Sheila Morgan vs Kuroi Kamikaze II - Bound by Bloodlust

[PuroQueen]

Sheila wasn't the only one wishing she could whip out a fancy submission hold right about now. Kuroi had a few killer moves herself she had yet to try out on her opponent. But if her last attempt had taught her anything, it was that now was not the time for experimentation. She needed to put this bitch down like the mad dog she was, and for that, she was gonna stick to the basics - which she had to admit, were working surprisingly well. Even now, as Kuroi thrashed and squeezed her opponent with all the force her heavy arms could muster, the skilled martial artist couldn't help but slowly come to enjoy the move's simplicity and effectiveness. Not to mention its versatility.

"I gotta hand it to you, Sheila... you almost had me there," Kuroi hissed in her opponent's ear, taking a break from her loveless kisses to press her lips forward against Sheila's ear. "It wasn't easy bucking your fat ass off of me. In fact, I figure you owe me a little bit for my troubles, don't ya think?" Kuroi quipped between short breaths. Sheila responded as she often did, swinging her fist behind and bashing Kuroi in the face.

The first few hits caught Kuroi good, causing her to wail out loud as bruised knuckles repeatedly marked up her face. But that wasn't enough to convince her to release her hold. In fact, quite the opposite. Kuroi doubled down, unleashing a loud, vicious growl before throwing their combined weight backward, transforming the hold so that she was on her back, with Sheila wrapped up tightly in front of her. While it wouldn't completely prevent her opponent from swinging more fists her way, the extra leverage would certainly make any more efforts on Sheila's part even more futile.

Spoiler

With her position secured, the question of what came next would become painfully obvious to them both. Kuroi's main arm tightened its grip around Sheila's throat even further, while her other hand crept downwards in pursuit of more fortuitous ventures. Her fingers crawled overtop Sheila's voluptuous breast, cupping underneath her mammary and giving her boob a painful squeeze. "Oh girl, it doesn't matter how many times I get my hands on you, these tits of yours never get old," Kuroi chortled as she nibbled at Sheila's earlobe, digging her nails deep into her opponent's exposed flesh. But Kuroi was just getting started. Her legs had thrown themselves over the top of Sheila's frame, enclosing the women's midsection between her muscled thighs. Her feet locked together at the ankles, with heels purposely resting over the top of her opponent's nether regions. "Don't go sleepin' on me yet, bitch. I want you to enjoy this," a sultry tone laced Kuroi's words as her tongue lapped at Sheila's neck and ear.

Her foot kicked into action soon after, angling downwards and rubbing vivaciously against Sheila's covered crotch. The fabric did little to impede her vigor, her heel digging deep into her opponent's pussy with fast, rough strokes. "Pay attention this time ref! Your girl's gonna blow!" Kuroi preemptively declared, laughing with wild delight between hungry kisses.

[BlackAkuma]

The kissing was bad enough, but at least Sheila was starting to get used to it. This was a hentai match, some feeling up came with the territory. It was more than a little annoying that Kuroi seemed hell bent on making her into a living fucktoy every chance she got, but she could endure it, especially if it meant that she could repay the bitch in kind.

But what really got to her, what truly drove her insane, was Kuroi’s idea of pillow talk. That hissing in her ears. Taunting. Teasing. Tickling the fine hairs on her neck. Every word made her skin crawl, more so when she talked as if she didn’t have any doubts about the way this was going to, like it was all wrapped up. Arrogant, cocky, crazy bitch.

…and what was with the crack about her being fat? The two of them were close to the same size and weight, last she checked. Not that Sheila cared too much about what people thought of her looks, but she couldn't even make sense of that one.

Bashing her in the face like that felt good, but it was a fleeting treat, as Kuroi just moved back and doubled down on the hold. Gripping tight, too tight, and that wasn’t the only problem she had to deal with. There was the hand on her tits, the nutjob’s favorite playthings, but that wasn’t nearly as big a problem as the main attraction - the feet. Rubbing at her pussy, working her over once more, making up for all the time Kuroi had lost and bringing her back to the brink. Sheila shivered at the sensory overload, knowing that her opponent wasn’t wrong - she was on the cusp of exploding, a balloon with a needle heading straight for it, primed to pop.

The idea came to her in a flash, born out of pure desperation. With Kuroi so busy having her fill of tits, the hold on her neck was loosened - not gone entirely, but enough to let her hands do other things, if only for a couple of seconds. That was all she needed, too, as she reached and fumbled at Kuroi’s ankles, looking to unhook them, pushing them away from her crotch.

That wouldn’t be enough by itself, since they could always go right back. But, in that moment, Sheila threw her legs up, kicked at the middle rope, and sent her body rolling on top of her opponent, coming down butt first just above Kuroi’s head, her legs spread wide. She kept the hold on, too, making sure that her opponent’s shoulders stayed on the mat. A good setup for a pin.

The referee agreed, too, as he slid over and started the count. ”1…!”

[PuroQueen]

Contrary to her disparaging version of sweet talk, Kuroi was loving every inch of her opponent's body. Especially now that it was firmly in her grasp, she couldn't find a single flaw or imperfection in Sheila's form. From her silky blonde hair down to her twitching toes, Kuroi reveled in it all. Of course, she wouldn't tell Sheila any of that. Oh no, Kuroi liked to denigrate her girls, and make them feel vulnerable and insecure. Call it a kink - It made owning them just that much more satisfying. Although she knew Sheila was far from the type of gal to crack because of a few mean words, the resulting scoffs from her opponent made the uncouth remarks well worth it in her mind.

But that was only a small drop in the growing well of delight Kuroi steadily drank from. Between molesting her favorite pair of tits, choking her opponent lifeless, and giving a footjob so rabid it could have started a fire, Kuroi was spoiled for choice when it came to dominating her rival. But multitasking always required a little bit of compromise, even if Kuroi somehow made it look easy. In this case, Kuroi's chokehold would have to suffer in favor of her other, much more salacious attacks. As satisfying as it would have been to see this bitch spasm into unconsciousness, knocking Sheila out again wouldn't win her the match, but making her orgasm would. And judging by the sounds Sheila was making, and the trickling wetness slowly coating the sole of her foot, Kuroi could tell she was pretty damn close to making it happen. The revelation was almost enough to no longer make Kuroi crave that oh-so-fabled perfect win. This was all she needed right now, a writhing, wiggling, squirting cunt trapped in her embrace. A few more strokes was all it would take, a few more strokes and victory would be hers.

No sooner did the thought occur than Kuroi realized her foot had been suddenly thrust sideways, no longer within reach of its prize. Kuroi's lustful grind came to a screeching halt as her head peaked over Sheila's shoulder, enraged to see the source of the disruption. Her opponent had summoned just enough resilience to unwound Kuroi's ankles, thus freeing Sheila's lower half. No matter, Kuroi could always just tangle them back up again. Except, she wouldn't have a chance. Sheila had already seized the moment to kick her legs off the ropes and swivel her entire weight over top of the martial artist!

The first count didn't even register in Kuroi's mind. She was still too busy trying to figure out why her world was suddenly upside down, with her neck and shoulders compressed against the mat and her feet flailing in the air.

"TWO!"

And her hands... why weren't Sheila's round, gorgeous, voluptuous tits in her palms anymore? And her lips! Why were they gasping for air, and not at Sheila's neck, smooching, devouring, claiming what was rightfully hers, what she had earned through blood and sweat!? No...

"THR-"

Half a second longer, and the world would have been over. One more miniscule moment of befuddlement and doubt, and Kuroi would have been duped into giving her opponent her first fall. But once again, her instincts had guided her well, giving her just enough wit to kick out and roll over at the last possible millisecond. But Kuroi's landing was messy and lopsided, boggled by the weight of indescribable confusion and rage. She straightened herself out just in time to see the sight of her opponent's loins, visibly damp and moistened from her previous efforts. Kuroi turned her head to the referee, a look of pleading in her eyes. The official only offered a simple shake of his head. Sheila hadn't orgasmed. Kuroi had failed once again.

"AAAARGH! - JUST FUCKING DIE THEN!" Kuroi screamed with a throat piercing cry, before pouncing forward to tackle her opponent wherever she stood. Even if Sheila had composed herself, Kuroi would try and wrestle her back to the mat, placing herself in an overtop mount with fists raised high above her head. Now it was Kuroi's turn to be wild and reckless, giving little concern for the lingering cravings of lust and desire as she attempted to hammer her fists into Sheila's face. Her punches were typical at first, straightforward and powerful jabs into Sheila's temple and skull. But they quickly took on a much more unhinged form, raining down like a pummeling gorilla as Kuroi sought to make her opponent hurt, anywhere and anyway she could in a fit of unfiltered angst over her rival's unbelievable upset.

[BlackAkuma]

If you asked Sheila where she got this move from, she couldn't answer for the life of her. She had the vague notion that she’d seen it done somewhere before, in some old match she watched on a promotion that she couldn't recall at the top of her head, but the specifics eluded her. She’d seen a lot of wrestling in her time in a lot of different places, and every once in a while that tree would shake off some useful fruit. No real explanation for it, that was just the way she thought.

But fuck, did it work. While it wouldn’t win her the match outright, he counter had succeeded in putting Kuroi’s shoulders on the mat, which was a big achievement considering she’d been on the verge of passing out in a pool of her own juices. Just three seconds, that was all she was asking for.

One.

Two.

Three-

”Fuck!”

Sheila spat out as her opponent burst out of the pinfall, saving herself at the last second. She flopped to her back, groaning at the loss, knowing that she’d been so close to making progress only to fail at the final hurdle. It felt like she and Kuroi had been fighting for hours, and she still hadn't reached the halfway mark. Could she ever, at this point? Was that her last chance?

It was a concern, a big concern, but not the main one she had to deal with right now. No, her biggest problem was the raging demoness that was still very much alive and dangerous right now. She had to get up, needed to be on her feet before-

Too late. Kuroi pounced, just as Sheila managed to get a single foot on the ground, dropping her back on the mat and crawling up her body. Sheila tried to buck her off, but the woman was too quick, too wiley, too determined for that to happen. She was caught, pinned, and then the punches came raining down. Sheila brought her arms up in defense, and at first she managed to keep a few from connecting, but as they came faster and wilder and harder, that turned into a losing effort. Kuroi was bashing away her face in an insane fury, battering her skull back and forth, cutting her open across the forehead and coating her face in crimson. A rabid, feral onslaught that Sheila was helpless to repel.

All she could do, for the moment, was survive.

[PuroQueen]

The pounding increased in ferocity as the seconds ticked by, with Kuroi even throwing in a few twelve-to-six elbow strikes that did an excellent job of slicing and digging into her opponent's skull. Like a rabies-infected animal, spittle and saliva dripped messily from Kuroi's lips, mixing with the reddish ooze quickly seeping out of Sheila's burgeoning cuts and scrapes. After what seemed like an eternity, Kuroi roughly grabbed her opponent's hair, smashing their heads together so that Sheila's blood-soaked face was right up against hers.

"You think you're so clever. You think you're better than me, HUH!?" Kuroi roared, screaming in Sheila's face with deafening rage. Her naked chest heaved with each ragged breath as she glared at her rival, the blood trickling from her nose looking like a minor injury in comparison to her opponent's features. Nonetheless, Kuroi's eyes burned with a fierce intensity, a fire fueled by the pain and anger coursing through her body. With a low growl, Kuroi jerked Sheila's hair once more so that they were even closer, her panting, warm breath washing against her opponent's face. "Well look at you now Sheila, you pathetic bitch." Kuroi whispered, her harsh words all of a sudden taking on an oddly gentle tone. "It doesn't matter what I do. Beat you, fuck you. You always find a way to bounce back. You just don't know when to give up, do you? So what is it then Sheila, how do I break you!?" Kuroi hissed, gently brushing away a strand of Sheila's hair to get a better look at her eyes, as if the answer was to be found somewhere inside.

"Shhhh - NO! Don't tell me!" The crazed fighter suddenly interjected with a giggle, nuzzling the tip of her nose against her opponent's counterpart. "We'll find out soon enough... together." Her grin slowly widened into that familiar smile of hers, one that was heightened with an extra dose of crazy, courtesy of all the hell they'd both been through tonight. But if Kuroi was looking for closure in Sheila's eyes, she would find none. Instead, she'd find something else entirely.

"I fuckin' love hating you, Sheila."

Kuroi threw herself at her opponent as soon as the words had left her lips. The small distance between them closed instantaneously as she mashed her mouth into Sheila's, forcefully prying her lips open with her tongue until the muscle had breached its way inside. Kuroi closed her eyes, losing all awareness of space and time as she clamored over her foe, desperately trying to keep her down as she pushed her tongue deeper and deeper inside. The welcome taste of blood and adrenaline filled her senses, concocted with the familiar tang that she had come to love as Sheila's unique flavor. From a tactical perspective, her position wasn't doing her any favors. Aside from her legs straddling the brawler's side, and the bare breasts pressed down against Sheila's, Kuroi wasn't doing much to restrain her opponent aside from kissing her. But she didn't care; none of that mattered. Even if she did tangle the cunt up in the wildest hold imaginable, Sheila would just go on to perform another last-minute miraculous feat. So why even bother? Kuroi was doing this because, truth be told, she had never met a girl who had riled her up this much before. So why the fuck not?

For a woman who had been off her rocker long before she had even met the Wild One, Sheila sure was driving Kuroi off the deep end.

[BlackAkuma]

Though Sheila was certain that the beating couldn't have gone on for too long, no more than a few seconds, it felt exponentially longer to her reckoning. It probably didn’t help that she drifted out of consciousness once or twice in there, taking a flash knockout by one punch, only to be reawakened by another. Every time she’d come back, Kuroi would be looking back at her with those manic eyes, flashing above with each punch, as her world descended into a haze of black and red.

The final time she came back, Kuroi had stopped punching her. Her right eye was swollen shut, couldn't see much more than shadows out of it, but the left worked about as well as it ever did, and she could tell that her opponent was saying…something. Sheila wanted to write it off as another one of her insane ramblings, and it probably was, but this one had a different tone. Almost soothing. Loving. Caring.

Weird. Very fucking weird.

Whatever she was saying, Sheila knew what was coming next. She was at the end of her rope, running on fumes, her brain scattered after that onslaught. All Kuroi would have to do was strip her, fuck her, and this could all be over. No more 1UPs, no more hail marys. One push, and she was done.

Kuroi seemed to know it, too, and Sheila prepared herself for the worst as she burst into motion. Throwing herself forward, reeling back, reaching out and…kissing her.

That alone wouldn’t have been surprising, Sheila had lost count of all the kisses this woman had given her tonight alone. But this one was different, more tender than any that had come before. Still rough, like anything between them, but it felt more genuine, less sloppy, like something between two lovers. It took the Wild One totally off guard, but not as much as what came next.

Sheila reciprocated.

Her own tongue was getting into the act, sliding into Kuroi’s mouth before she knew what was happening, and she didn’t pull it back, either. She accepted the embrace. Welcomed it. Partly because she needed the chance to recover, but she could also admit that it was good. Damn good. A stark reminder that Kuroi ticked off a lot of the boxes on what Sheila looked for in a partner - strong, aggressive, forceful, and while her being a lunatic was a turnoff, she’d take that over being boring anyday. Was she falling for Kuroi?

No. Fuck no. But she wasn’t hating this, and there was a real temptation to lean into it and let nature take its course. Forget the match. Just get it out of their systems and be done with it.

But then she looked up towards the corner and got a better idea.

Sheila picked up the pace, embracing Kuroi, getting tight, getting faster, giving Kuroi back everything she was giving. That changed, however, when she threw her hips up hard, pushed her opponent off, and tried to send ram her head into the turnbuckle pads.

[PuroQueen]

Lovemaking was too tame a word to capture the raw energy of the two fighters' embrace. It was a kiss born of vitriol and venom, teeth clashing, and tongues dueling for dominance. Yet, beneath the anger and animosity, there was a twisted elegance in the way their lips met. Kuroi no longer sought victory but the dizzying rush of sensation, to merge with her enemy's primal force.

Sheila's retaliation confirmed that she felt it too; her response was immediate and aggressive, her arms snaking around Kuroi's body with a powerful grip. The kiss deepened, the taste of sweat and blood mingling in their mouths as they surrendered to the dark desire burning between them. Kuroi's fingers roamed down Sheila's spine, tracing the curves of her body with feverish need. With each breath, each moan, the hunger grew, a maelstrom of violence and passion that threatened to consume her whole. The sound of their ragged breaths and the wet smack of their lips filled the air, drowning out everything else. Kuroi was lost in the moment, drunk on the power of their mutual loathing: Only hate itself could have given birth to such feverish ecstasy.

Which only left her perfectly susceptible to a sudden, violent jolt from Sheila's body, throwing Kuroi's weight off-balance and sending her headfirst into the unforgiving turnbuckle! The impact reverberated through her skull, sending a shockwave of pain and disorientation through her entire body.

For a moment, Kuroi felt completely detached from her senses, her vision swimming with dizziness and confusion. Her ears rang with a high-pitched whine, drowning out the sounds of the crowd and their distant roars. But instead of anger or rage, maniacal laughter erupted from Kuroi's throat, a twisted response to Sheila's predictable defiance. Of course, this bitch still wanted to fight. Of course.

Slowly, painfully, Kuroi's awareness began to return to her. She was dimly aware of the blood pounding in her ears and the taste of copper in her mouth, a result of biting her tongue in the impact. Her hands gripped onto the middle ropes, barely inching her body upwards at a sloth's pace before she gave out completely. She didn't realize just how spent she was until now. Her body was slumped against the turnbuckle, legs too weak and unsteady beneath her. Her hands clutched at her throbbing head, trying to soothe the pain and dull the pounding. What should have been a minor inconvenience had managed to stun her completely. The remnants of Sheila's blood still smeared on her forehead told her that her opponent couldn't be much better off, but still, all Kuroi could do was try to regain her senses and recover, hoping that her body would cooperate when the time came.

[BlackAkuma]

So, how did Sheila feel about Kuroi? It was complicated. Extremely, definitely, disturbingly complicated, she was starting to realize.
She was pretty sure she hated this woman, and not just because of the messed up way their match had gone. She’d never met someone so determined to humiliate her at every turn, trying to show her up with such a sick, dogged determination. It wasn’t just enough for Kuroi to win, she was clearly determined to straight up dominate her. She said as much time and again, showed it when she groped her tits and kissed her and worked her to feverish orgasms. Sheila didn’t mind the rough play, but she’d never been the type to let anyone control her, least of all an insane Japanese bitch with an asymmetrical taste in clothing.

There was stuff she needed to work out, questions she needed to answer, truths she needed to face, but she put it all on the backburner. For now, she wanted to focus on one thing and one thing alone: caving Kuroi’s skull in.

So, while a small - but real - part of her didn’t want to end their little diversion, she pushed through it and sent her foe hurtling upwards, hammering her into the pads and giving her the opening she’d been craving. Her best chance, her last chance.

”You want to fuck, Kuroi?” She joined in her opponent’s laughter for a moment. ”Fine. Let’s fuck.”

Sheila rolled to her chest and stood up, relying almost wholly on the ropes to support her as she got to her feet. Once up, she teetered, tottered, and came close to falling flat again, but managed to stay straight by some small miracle. She could pass out from dehydration and blood loss later. Now, she was finishing this.

Reaching down, she grabbed Kuroi by the ankles and hoisted her up, taking advantage of her stunned state to manipulate her. She brought her legs up on top the top pad, crossed her ankles under the top rope, and left her to dangle upside, helpless and wide open for whatever Sheila had next.

She had ideas, too. Wild, dangerous ideas.

[PuroQueen]

The ropes had never seemed so far away, so distant and out of reach. Though Kuroi was slumped just beneath them, she could barely even get her hands to cling onto the bottom rung for support. Her world was still revolving too fast, kept in a torrential tailspin from the whirlwind forces of confusion, seething, and regret. She'd poured everything into tearing Sheila apart, everything. And what did she have to show for it? A busted up nose, a scrambled up brain, and an opponent who just refused to be fucked with.

A familiar fury and rage seeped into her mind, but this time, even that wouldn't be enough to reignite her senses. She was spent, utterly depleted. Every moment Sheila slowly crawled towards could have been a useful one, Kuroi needed every second she could to recover. But as her opponent inched closer and closer, Kuroi's own energy reserves refused to refill at the same pace. But she wasn't afraid. There wasn't a thing Sheila could do to her that could possibly make her abhor her any more than she did right now.

"Nah girl, you got it all wrong. I don't wanna fuck." Kuroi groaned as her opponent teetered even closer. "I wanna defile you. I... I wanna ram you raw" Kuroi cackled, unintimidated by her opponent's ever encroaching presence. The obscene rantings were the only things giving Kuroi a little hope right, a little energy to claw her fingers to the second rope. If she could just make her way to her feet, then maybe she still make it all happen. After all, Sheila still hadn't even scored a single fall yet. All Kuroi needed was one last chance to put her down, for good this time, then pump away like there was no tomorrow.

"I wanna pound you till your dry, till your voice box ruptures from all the begging you'll be doing, till - Uuuagh...! Fuckoff!" Kuroi moaned, her feeble efforts suddenly sent to a grinding halt. Sheila had reached the downed fighter before she had even had a chance to make it to her knees, grabbing a hold of her ankles and suddenly flipping her world upside down. Kuroi tried to fight it back, growling and grunting as she hurled petty slaps at Sheila legs, truly pathetic attempts to unbalance her opponent.

Kuroi dangled upside down, legs locked on the other side of the turnbuckle, powerless to untangle themselves. Her hands continued to flail forward, fists trying to pound at the girl's core, but she knew the punches wouldn't amount to much, not in this state at least. Kuroi was forced to resort to truly desperate measures, digging her fingers into the waistband of her opponent's lower garment, as if that would somehow prevent her from enacting whatever dastardly plan she had in store for her next. But deep down, Kuroi knew that there was just no stopping the brawler. There never was.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila heard Kuroi, loud and clear, as the woman proceeded to list off all the things she wanted to do to her, the things that she would’ve likely done if she was given half a chance. Even the referee, who’d no doubt seen a lot of the things she was talking about happen firsthand, seemed a shade freaked out to hear it all, and she didn’t blame them. It wasn’t just what she said, but the way she said it, letting it all out with that manic, crazed expression that came out during her wildest moments. A lot of wrestlers pretended to be crazy, trying to psyche their opponents out, playing up a gimmick and spicing things up for the camera.

Not this woman, though. She meant every word she said. Total psycho. But then, maybe Sheila was, too. ”Yeah. Maybe one day you’ll get to do all of that shit.” She had a little chuckle as she locked Kuroi’s ankles together, trapping her on the tree. ”Just not tonight.”

With her opponent trapped, Sheila took a moment to admire her work and make sure it would hold, at least for the next few moments. Kuroi’s own weight was keeping her in place, and while the woman probably could’ve escaped if she was fresh, right now she was too haggard to pull her way out. They both were, but only one of them was free at the moment. Like this Sheila could’ve done dozens of things that would’ve damaged Kuroi, but none of them would be enough to make up for the ground she’d lost in the fight. Right now, she could only see one option.

Sheila made her way over the corner, slipped out onto the apron, and proceeded to climb her way up to the top, moving as fast as she could with her hobbled body. She nearly slipped halfway up, but managed to get it together to finish the ascent, making it all the way up and perching on the top. The crowd could see what was about to happen and their voices grew, building with anticipation after every step.

Sheila stood all the way up, ran her thumb across throat, took aim, then put everything she had left into launching herself off the top rope, flying across the ring. She drew her legs in as she came soaring towards her prone opponent and shot her feet out at just the right time, looking to nail her square in the face with one of her deadliest moves - Border to Border.