Not So Solitary Confinement - Audrey Trovita vs Callum "Brick" McRae (D)

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

Deep down, Audrey really did not know what else she expected.

In the brief flash of panic, she was at war with herself; to let go of the pad, or not. On one hand, she could defy him and hold it closer, if only to metaphorically spit in his face. But on the other, she'd already seen the number printed on it, whether Callum realized it or not, so she didn't need to strangle it like a lifeline. And there was, possibly, a remote chance that he might let her go free if she complied. At least, that's what she told herself. Whereas holding on to it for any length of time was the path that guaranteed he'd subject her to further abuse until she finally obeyed. However, in the heat of the moment with her body in agony, there really was only one choice.

But Callum, predictably, did not let her go once the pad hit the mat. And why would he? He was in total control, with no incentive to give that up regardless of whether Audrey had obeyed or not. The redhead continued to squirm, her body stretched and bent backwards, offering anyone in the front rows quite the upskirt angle with nothing left to the imagination. Her feet shuffled and scrambled to maintain her balance, all while shifting in an attempt to find some angle that would alleviate the torment. Her back and chest both ached from maintaining the awkward position, and the strain on her neck and ribcage from the choke kept her on her feet. She was warm and sweaty, her breathing difficult not only because of the choke, but from the effort it was taking just to keep her body arched so deeply.

Both hands were now free to pry at the arm locked tight around her throat, hoping to loosen his grip enough to free her head, but he gave her nothing. Every flex of his muscles undid whatever progress she'd made... and that was assuming he wasn't simply allowing her to gain ground just to steal it back again. Her grunts and groans and whimpers of protest proved as effective as her fingers. For all her endurance, endurance was all she could offer; she remained entirely at his mercy.

And then came the punishment. Forcibly shifting her position so he could have a clearer shot, Callum's free fist came down square on her chest. Audrey let out a surprised cry to accompany the breath that was pulled out of her from the impact. Her body recoiled awkwardly, torn between maintaining the painful arch and responding to the blow by caving in on itself, while her legs buckled under the sheer force. She managed to remain on her feet - in large part because Callum wrenched violently on her neck, ensuring she would not simply crumple off her feet from the hit. It had the side effect of drawing another cry from the redhead, this one a bit more desperate.

Judging by his reaction, however, Callum was not satisfied with the results of his attack. Audrey sucked in another hasty, strangled breath, grit her teeth, and braced herself for a follow-up blow. But what she got instead was so, so much worse.

Callum again shifted positions, and Audrey again scrambled to maintain her arch, lest she falter and suffer even more disastrous damage. But instead of another fist to the chest, he grabbed at the fabric of her top, pulling tight and casually sliding it to the side. The fabric which had so nobly protected her up to this point finally gave way, exposing her freckled breast to the air. And he wasted no time in sampling the prize he uncovered beneath, his palm rolling over her breast and reinvigorating the blush on the redhead's cheeks, already feeling herself harden from the contact.

"Wh- hey! N-no!"

Her protest came out sounding more like a needy moan than resistance, which only deepened the embarrassment. Worse, she was too busy fighting to breathe, leaving her no spare limbs with which to cover herself. No matter how many times she'd been shown off like this, it never got any less humiliating, especially when she was so powerless to fight back, but for now, endurance remained her only ally.

To her surprise (and relief), his hand withdrew after only one clean grope. But Audrey wasn't given time to consider why; she got her answer before the question had even fully formed in her mind. Her breast bounced in response to the stinging slap, and Audrey yelped in pain, the briefest of pleasures erased in an instant. That was going to leave a mark, one she knew she'd be feeling hours from now... and one which doubled in intensity as a result of a second smack! Audrey cried out again, this time with her eyes watering from both the sting and the strain it added to her arched spine. She heard him chuckle, but did not trust her voice to reprimand him yet.

“…If you beg, I’ll stop. How ‘bout that?.”

Immediately, Audrey found herself in the same position as before, with only a seconds to answer. The rebellious side of her wanted to bark out a resounding 'no!' - she'd fallen for that trap once already, and gotten her chest slapped for her efforts. She had no bargaining chips here, and they both knew it. There was no guarantee he'd actually keep his word if she complied. But if she didn't... well, she knew what to expect. He'd continue slapping her breast until she couldn't take it anymore and she was forced to beg for mercy anyway.

Which essentially left her with a single option, the same one she'd had earlier; Obey and pray.

Tears in her eyes, she choked out, "P-please stop...", her voice small and weak with restrained sobs. Her cheeks burned furiously, a mixture of humiliation and shame. Her chest and ribs ached from the prolonged stretch, and only worsening as her chest heaved with quick, hasty gasps as she fought against hyperventilating. "Ngh... please..."

Without really thinking about it, she let go of his arm and sent her elbow into him. The angle afforded her little leverage or force, but she had to do something - anything - to make herself look less pathetic while she begged for mercy. Whether or not her feeble attempt at a counterattack helped that appearance or amplified it, however, remained to be seen...

[Parker]

After all the shit she had been spouting off with, the choked-out plea was music to his ears, a fragile little sound that tasted like victory. For a split second, he considered it, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. She’d actually done it. The little firecracker had simmered out, just like he had asked. But then her elbow came up, a pathetic, desperate little shove against his ribs. It was less an attack and more a spasm of dying pride. If that had been her attempt at making some sort of statement, it fell flat.

The amusement vanished, replaced by a low, guttural growl that vibrated through his chest and into hers. He didn't even flinch from the weak blow. Instead, he punished it. The arm around her throat tightened like a vice, cutting off her air completely. He used his other hand to snatch her wrist, his grip like iron, and he wrenched her arm down and under her back, forcing it into a position that threatened to pop her shoulder from its socket.

His boots tromped along the canvas as he backed up, slow at first, where her sneakers' soles could dance across the mat to try and hold her lower body up, but as his pace quickened, he would drag Audrey while gravity clutched at her, making his choke iron-clad. Just as he reached the ropes, he stopped dead, a hard bracing stomp to pivot from, swinging her body up and over into a release that would send her careening like a spiralling discus over the ropes and into the cage wall as forceful as he could manage.

“Beggin’ and fightin’ in the same breath?” he snarled, his voice a hot, spitting on the canvas out of indignation. The sickening clang of her ragdolled body hitting the steel was the only answer he needed. She crumpled to the thin mat between the ropes and the cage, a tangled heap of limbs and shattered defiance. He watched her for a moment, a predator admiring his handiwork.

He crouched down, reaching through the ropes to grab a fistful of her hair and yanking her head up, then shoving it against the metal grating to look out at the horrified faces in the crowd.. “You just don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice dangerously calm. He roughly dragged her face across the cage fencing, giving her a hard shove back to the canvas.

With a lean, he brought his weight forward, resting his elbows on the middle rope. Callum watched her menacingly, looping his fingers into the opening in her stolen panties. He began wringing the fabric out between clenched fingers, stretching it taut, preparing to make use of it, no doubt for nefarious purposes.

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

If her elbowing had done anything besides make Callum angry, Audrey could not tell. She felt him growl in annoyance despite her own trembling - from both concern and from the strain of maintaining her body's arched position for so long. That was all the warning she got before his arm tightened around her throat, cutting off what little flow of air she'd had access to. Immediately, she tried to cry out, but could force out no sound, not even a choked garble. Her scream died in her throat as her arm was twisted roughly behind her back, her entire body jerking in response to the pain instead.

Then he moved. Audrey hadn't expected it, and stumbled to keep her feet flush with the ground after that first step. But he picked up his pace before Audrey found her footing, leaving her to be dragged by the throat to wherever he was taking her. The strain of having her neck pull the rest of her body along had tears leaking from her eyes, her sobs as stifled as her screams.

Somehow, that agony only magnified as she was spun, heaved, and literally thrown by the throat over the ropes. Her feet kicked, no longer scraping against the mat as they sailed through the air. The release had happened so fast that the first sound she made was a cry of protest as her body collided with the linked cage. The impact rattled the whole cage, and the reverberations of the sound drowned out all others in the redhead's ears as she hit the ring apron like a bag of bricks.

The sudden impact on the hardest area of the mat rocked her enough to trigger a gasp, followed by a wheeze as the sudden inhalation burned her lungs. Her hand whipped up to her throat, tenderly rubbing her wound with flinching fingers, as though she were afraid her windpipe would be completely crushed if she touched it. She tried to move her head, only to scream and recoil as a tug on her hair sent another spark of pain into her neck. She spared a moment to untangle her hair from the chain links, but the tug had done most of the hard work already by that point. The rest of her form moved only lightly, attempting to collect her bearings and not pressure her limbs for fear of injuring herself further.

But caution would quickly be thrown out the window. Audrey yelped in surprise and terror as she was repositioned by her hair, peeling her face off the mat and slamming her into the cage wall. The eye closest squeezed shut, knowing it would be all too easy to lose her vision if she weren't careful, while her other was left squinting out at the spectators. Their reactions were mixed, although her attention was naturally drawn more towards those not looking on with horror... likely because she'd never had time to re-cover her exposed breast, although who knows what kinds of views they'd been treated to so far. One hand reached up, fingers clawing at the links in a feeble attempt at supporting herself.

Callum gave her inner fears no concern, however, instead grinding her face against the chain link mesh before slamming her back down to the apron, triggering another squeal of anguish. She writhed there for a moment, unaware what Callum's attention had shifted to. Her hand was closer to the cage than the ropes, and with an embarrassing amount of effort, Audrey clawed her way back to her knees, still facing away, out towards the audience, now covering what little she could of her chest with her other limb.

When she spoke, her voice was raspy and strangled, trembling as much as her body, as though it pained her simply to make sounds. But apparently, insulting him was a higher importance. "Y-you... fuckin' asshole..."

Certainly not the most creative line ever, but thinking for the redhead was as difficult as breathing at present, and swears were the only weapon she had.