Typical Prey: The Beast vs. March "The Hare" Michel [Match Debut]

[DeVir]

"Wow."

It was a loaded word that fled March's lips as Beast bounced off her knees and onto his face. Wow, that was the last ounce of effort in her body. Wow, that had worked. Wow, everything hurt. Wow, the crowd was loud and demanding for her to cover him. The green eyes that had been squinting into the lights above her bulged out of her head. "Oh shit!" Cover him! She found one more spurt to push her elbow underneath her and roll her body over once so she flopped onto his back.

"Fuck, why are you-" She had to turn him over. Looking like a dog nosing some dead-weight obstacle out of its way, March lowered her arm beneath him and drove her shoulder into his side. With her knees, she pushed against him. "Move... move... move...", she ordered, but he didn't. She had to give it her all, and when he finally careened, she unceremoniously flopped atop him like it was a dramatic movie and he was her dead lover.

After all that, she might have this. "One!" It was bittersweet since she should have come out here like her hair was on fire, taken what she wanted, won over the crowd, proven her value, put herself at the top of the food chain, all that shit. But she was rubbing it in the face of a guy who had humiliated her and his goth queen arm candy, and that had a whole lot of value to March, too. A squeal started to rise in her chest when she heard: "Two!"

[BlackAkuma]

To the surprise of no one, Beast didn’t help March roll him over to his back. In fact, he did his best to deadweigth her as much as possible, making sure she had to exert the maximum effort to roll him over. Call it spite. He wasn’t about to make this any easier for her than he had to. If he were going to go down, he would do so while being a pain in the ass.

But he was going down. There was no stopping that, now. He did try, twitching underneath her, trying to force his aching back to move. But the spine was the center for so many things in the human body, and while he was sure he hadn't taken any permanent damage, the backstabber had left him temporarily immobile. He’d be fine in a minute, but sixty seconds was twenty times too long.

1.

2.

”3…!”

The crowd went wild, gleefully celebrating their heroine's victory. It wasn’t often than a debuting wrestler won their first match in LAW. They were often used as rating fodders, with people turning in to see some newbie getting chewed up and spit up. People were so used to the trend that when someone broke, it turned heads. March had the world’s attention.

She also had Beauty’s, and now the woman was coming in to get a closer look. As the bell rang and the audience applauded, she came off the announcer’s desk, slinked up the steps, slipped through the ropes and made her way towards her downed husband and his victorious opponent. Not in a rush, not trying to ambush her, making no effort to hide. She wanted the woman to see her coming.

[DeVir]

"AHHH!"

The squeal that did emerge struck a tone between primal, thrilled, and relieved. The California Hare had enough of a jolt to push herself off of him and roll onto her back a few feet away, but outside of that, all she could do was raise her arms to the cheering crowd, throw up some bunny (HARE) ears with her fingers, and let all the good that would come out of this course through her noggin. People could post pictures and clips of her bent around the turnbuckle or hefted to the ceiling or looking as stupid as they wanted, and every time she would remind them how she won. The part where she had jabbed him in the eye tried to wriggle into her mind and have her trying to come up with some excuse, but she pushed that aside. "Winner!"

She was announced as the winner, and the ref tried to coax her to her feet so she could raise her arm. "I don't want to," March told her, breathlessly. "I'm the winner. The winner gets to do what she wants. Didn't you know that?" Whatever the ref said in response, March didn't notice; she saw Morticia on her way over. Her defenses raised what little they could, with her snapping her head up and resting on her elbows to defend herself from an attack. But most attacks required the attacker to become... aggressive. Beauty looked like she was taking a walk around her queendom, taking in March like she was a freshly bloomed flower.

The chick was still damn hot, too. She looked better up close. March eyed her.

"Told you you had to take a loser home." Her shit-eating grin could have infuriated monks. Impatience at the silence won out as she debated what the woman wanted. "You got a problem with that? 'Cause if you do, it should be with him."

[BlackAkuma]

Beauty winced as she entered the ring, as March’s piercing cry emanated through the rafters. The woman had a high pitch, but she wouldn’t deny the young wrestler her moment in the sun. She still remembered what it was like to score her first win in a major promotion, the thrill of it, the sheer exhilaration as the crowd roared, and she took in all their admiration. The most incredible feeling in the world, she swore, but such feelings could be fleeting. Best to temper them with a dose of reality.

That was where she came in. But she would address that in a moment. For now, she approached with open arms, lest she prompt the woman to attack. Her hackles were clearly raised already, though, to Beauty’s eyes, it seemed that March was also enjoying the view. She knew when someone was looking her way with lust, and she made sure to milk every step along the way, giving her all the best angles.

”That you did.” Beauty brushed past the referee, who worriedly put herself between them. She wasn’t about to start a fight while wearing high heels and a dress, even if she was inclined to 'avenge’ her husband. ”And I’ve no problem with that. Why would I? You won, fair and square.” She had a half-laugh, the barest hint of a giggle. ”Mostly.”

Before she went on, her attention came to Beast as he began to sit up, grumbling curses. Beauty promptly ended that with a foot against his chest, pushing him back to the canvas and pinning him under her heels. From there, she stepped on top of his chest and crushed him beneath her total weight, standing tall, perfectly balanced. Her husband knew her place - no resistance, no fighting. He merely lay there and grit his teeth as the points dug into his bare skin, suffering in silence.

”Better.” She enjoyed his agony for a few moments, before looking back March’s way. ”Natasha Vasilev. Beauty, if you prefer nicknames. I enjoyed the show, excellent work, but I wonder…” She leaned forward, ever-so-slightly, putting more weight on Beast in the process. ”...could you do it again? Against someone with a more feminine touch, perhaps?”

[DeVir]

March, an expert in sarcasm, didn't recognize a wealth of sarcasm in Morticia's voice. That was probably because she added the mostly addendum to her declaration that March had won fair. The Hare saw fit to defend herself, as usual, when she could sense she was being called on some of her mischief. "Hey, I didn't tell him to keep his eye in the way when I was feeling around for an escape. Things happen. I've gotten poked in the eye the same way before." At that point, she realized the woman hadn't said a word about the eye, and March was digging her own grave deeper. She zipped her lips for once.

So they weren't swingers. They were kinky. March's face betrayed the thoughts and emotions scuttling through her head seeing her stand on top of him in those killer heels while he lay there, taking it. Kind of hot. Kind of freaky. Her mouth moved ahead of her brain. "Every guy I know would throw a hissy fit having that done to them in public. Big macho men. You must really have him whipped." With her adrenaline waning, she couldn't summon the thoughtfulness from the mush to realize that was yet another thing to avoid saying aloud (to most people, anyway).

It was also a testament to how intriguing she found them that she was distracted away from her celebration.

Beauty. "Beauty! Beauty and the Beast." March said it as if it weren't obvious, pointing back and forth at the two of them. She truly needed a nap. For days. So caught up in her revelation, she initially missed the intention behind Beauty's question and started to utter a bland answer: sure, she had beaten a ton of women before. There wasn't much difference except most of the- she meant her. She meant her. And she meant something by that feminine touch, too. Something saucy. Or maybe she always sounded saucy.

"Some would say I have a feminine touch, too," March told her, a surprisingly smooth recovery. She tapped at her lips. "Don't you think? Don't you think?" She leaned over to try and look into Beast's agonized face. "So I think I can pull it off."

[BlackAkuma]

Cute, but a bit of a blabbermouth, this one. March was clearly not accustomed to people telling her to shut up. Or, maybe she was, and she had just learned not to care. Either way, she had a habit of giving up bad facts about herself, something that Beauty could easily exploit. ”Is that a fact?” She took a step to the side, bringing a foot to his pectorals and leaving a reddened mark in her wake. It looked worse than it actually was. She had done this enough to know precisely where to stand, how to apply the right amount of weight, maximizing the pain but minimizing the damage. ”I think you might be surprised what you could entice a man to do, March. It only requires the proper motivation.” She gazed down towards Beast from the corner of her eye. ”Isn’t that right, slave?”

”Yes, mistress.” Beast’s words came out as a hoarse croak, strained and groaning, as if each syllable made his state worse. Music to her ears.

It took a moment for March to catch her meaning, but when she did, she seemed appropriately intrigued by it, playing along and even trying to match Beauty in the coy department. The woman was tired, so taking her on now wouldn’t have been fitting, but she got the impression that they were on the same page for a future bout. That deal did need sealing, however.

As March leaned over to look down at her husband, Beauty brought a finger to her chin and tipped it upward, bringing them face-to-face. She swooped in and pressed their lips together for a flash of a kiss - quick, hot, steaming, with just a taste of tongue, stealing a taste. Just the right mix of sweat and saliva. Delicious.

”I agree wholeheartedly.” She pulled away and licked her lips, making sure she didn’t miss a single drop. ”A match, then. You and I. I trust a week is enough time for your recovery?”

[DeVir]

March, who would never voice the admission, had never gotten a man to lie beneath her heels and take the pain without throwing her off, she supposed. She also couldn't decide if it was something to be proud of; she wasn't sure any sort of relationship was her style, even one with someone lying down for her all the time. To that end, she looked primarily confused as she watched the exchange. "I guess this works if you don't want to spend on carpet." Fifty Shades had been awful, but maybe she should watch it again while she was having to sit still for her post-match checkup. Or like, the hot parts. So she would understand.

She didn't understand Beauty's touch of her chin, either. She scrunched up her face initially. "I'm not gonna lie under yo- ohmmmmph..."

March might as well have blacked out; she surrendered, stunned, to the kiss, eyes widening. All that stayed with her after the moment passed was that it was a damn good kiss, and she wanted more. It only tickled her as sudden and strange when she thought about it too deeply, and sitting there in the ring with people watching, she convinced herself not to think about it too deeply. She dabbed at her lips with the back of her hand and checked for swapped lipstick just to have something to do. "So my... feminine... touch worked on you then?", she asked, ignoring that Beauty had all but said that herself. "I'm a pretty big deal tonight. Not that it surprises me." Trying her darndest to sound cool didn't sound cool at all.

But she could sound cool enough when the woman challenged her to a match. To her, there seemed to be some of that "you beat him, but can you beat me?" to Beauty's request, and that lit the competitive fire. Her confusion turned to sharp-eyed audaciousness. "Heck, give me a few hours, and I'll be ready to go." It wasn't total bluster, but March was betting she wouldn't take it too seriously either way. Especially since it took her a good ten seconds to get to her feet.

"So you're on, even if it won't end any different. 'Cause it's still me."

[BlackAkuma]

The crowd crowed as their lips met, but as far as Beauty was concerned, they might as well have been miles away. The only thing that concerned her now with the soft, plush lips that her own were locked with, as she and March enjoyed their moment. Sudden kisses like this were always a risk, bearing the chance that the recipient might be less than receptive, and she was prepared for a slap coming her way - fortunately, that worry was unfounded. March was willing. More than willing. Needless to say, she wasn’t the only one that was craving for more.

Another time, though. Soon, soon.

Beauty could’ve said a few things to spoil March’s self-congratulations, but she decided against it. The woman had earned herself a hard-fought victory, she was owed a dose of boosted pride. No sense in knocking that down now when it would be so much better in a more intimate venue, later.

Beauty finally stepped off of Beast’s body, allowing him roll over and push his way up. He took care to avoid March’s gaze and keep his head low, never allowing himself to stand higher than Beauty herself. Without a word, he made his way over to the ropes and sat on the middle one, opening the way for his mistress.

”Best not to push your luck, and I want you at your best. A week it will be.” Her voice was soothing but stern, brooking no more argument on the matter. ”Besides, I need time to speak with management. I’d like to add a few special…” She rolled her wrist about as she searched for the right word in English. Such a boring language. ”...stipulations to our bout. Nuances. You’ll see.”

Beauty gave one last look over March, head to toe, taking in every inch of her luscious young body, before she promptly strolled past her and made her way through the ropes offered. From there, she and her husband promptly made their way up the ramp, never looking back a single time, before they retreated back into the shadows from whence they’d come.