Unexpected Domino Effect - Brielle & Domino.

[Afterhoursclub]

There definitely was a moment in which Brielle blacked out, if only for a few seconds, but it happened-

When she came back, her brain had to "refamiliarize" with the scene, her current context: Every single muscle on her body was hurting like hell, she was rapidly drawing short breaths, heart pumping fast, and now... a pulsating headache, a consequence of the hard slam against the locker. The Brit was lying down on her side, cheek pressed against the cold floor, feeling the weight of her eyelids increasing.

"Uughh..." A few moans escaped her lips, lacking the strength to stand up by herself.

If it had been up to her, Brielle could have easily stayed there, motionless for the rest of the night until staff members or other fighters found her the next day. Having already burned the last of what little stamina she had left... after the grueling encounter, and the start of their impromptu "rematch" with the model.

However, it didn't really take much brainpower to predict that Domino would have different plans for her... for them.

"Hmph... Fuck... off..." She muttered under her breath, noticing the Model's shadow already looming over her, his eyes beaming among his obscured features while standing between her and the ceiling lamps. Still fighting the fact that she could not move to defend herself... even though her sharpest weapon had never been any of her muscles-

"Enjoying... ugh... yourself, p-pretty boy?" She spat out, about the only thing she could do at that moment.

A pained grunt, when her arm was yanked, forcing her to stand up, and then she was turned around as if she was nothing more than a prop, having no strength left to push the model back.

Without wasting a single second, Domino pressed their figures together, locking her legs with his own, trapping her right arm behind his back, effectively rendering the limb useless, and locking his arm behind her neck to trap her in a textbook Abdominal stretch. His bare torso was grinding against her back while twisting her entire frame.

"Arghh... ahh..." The strain was immediate; every single muscle in her abdominal region tensed against her will, her back burning with each passing second, her abs began to pop up from under her slick skin due to the constant tension of the stretch, and almost every limb of hers was immobilized.

Her whole face contorted into a pained grimace, baring her teeth and closing her eyes. Her only free limb clawing desperately at his knee, but the padding negated any significant damage.

"Ohh... F-Fuck..." Her entire abdomen was on fire. She shook her head before turning toward him, her eyes focusing on his purple orbs. A mixture of anger and tiredness at first, until a faint smirk drew across the corner of her mouth. Hitting at a small bit of enjoyment, even in such a predicament...

"T- this... all you... got?" She shot, between gritted teeth.

[CyanDimitrik]

Anger was a thing Domino wasn't quite expecting to see. But thankfully, it quickly vanished into something... a little more familiar. Going too rough wasn't his original intention. That one, he's laying on her! But he's not going to pretend that the last moments of their match didn't beg for a follow-up. And the way she'd gone for him when it came down to it all but confirmed it to him.

So, regrets? Here? Not really. She's goading him on. Dare he suppose it, she's even indulging. There's no way he's going to deny her. Or himself, at this point.

"Not a chance..."

He could feel how little resistance she could offer him at this point. He could take his time with her now, to enjoy it. So as he straightens himself further, wrenching the woman sideways at an ever-increasing angle, he lets his hand slide inwards again. Fingers begin coursing along skin, feeling out the firm ridges of her abdominals just beneath the hem of her corset.

"Just giving you a chance to breathe first. Gotta have enough air to scream for me," he teases.

His palm comes to rest flush against the center of her taut midsection, fingers splayed. He leans back, stretching her tighter, reducing the chance to clench and brace before suddenly pressing his fingertips hard into her midsection, isolating her core abdominal muscles and squeezing in an abdominal stretch-stomach claw combination. The Sterling Stretch!