Between Snakes and Domino Pieces - Brielle Morgan VS Domino

[Afterhoursclub]

Standard One VS One
Winner decided via pinfall, submission, or knockout

Brielle's time as an active member of the LAW roster had been relatively short so far. The dark-haired girl had come to the promotion following in the footsteps of her cousin, Ashley Morgan. However, for Brielle, wrestling was much more than destroying an opponent in the ring, showing everyone how strong one was, and that sort of deal...

For the mischievous goth girl, it was about dominance, about slowly controlling the pace of the match, conquering an adversary, and finishing them off in splendid fashion... but on top of everything... it was about having fun. Of course, Brielle's own distorted version of "having fun" included her standing over a defeated opponent while laughing her ass off.

She accepted almost any offer and any stipulation thrown at her. The goth girl only cared about having a good time at the expense of her victims. And tonight, she was going to have the opportunity to do just that. A standard ONE VS ONE, that offered no shortage of excitement. Especially since she was going up against a male opponent.

"Delightful!" were Brielle's first words the moment she saw a picture of Domino, already imagining the boy trapped in her clutches. She was eager to commence, and as soon as the arena speakers hit her music, New Evil by Nocturna she appeared through the curtains.

"Entering the ring, from London, England- Weighting 170 lbs- She is the Smiling Viper, Brielle Morgan"

Brielle Morgan

Her hips swaying from side to side, casting a look of confidence toward the crowd, hiding the wicked intentions behind her smile. Her eyes, clear orbs that seemed to reach directly into people's souls, quickly scanned the place. Observing the multitude of faces in the stands, before settling onto the ring in the middle.

The agile goth slid swiftly under the bottom rope and, once inside the ring, remained on her knees for a moment. She savored the moment, eager for the match to begin, keen to prove she was better than anyone who opposed her and to give everyone an unforgettable spectacle.

Brielle jumped up to her feet and gracefully danced her way toward the corner, as if listening to a ghostly symphony that only she could hear. There she patiently waited, it was almost playtime...

[CyanDimitrik]

It's such a unique setup, Domino considers. Since joining LAW, he's not wrestled a single male. The booking tends to not favor it. They want to see men and women wrestle. But the ladies? They're abundantly facing off against each other in the ring. Why does this stand out to him now of all times?

Because he's listening to Brielle's stats as she makes her way down to the ring. She'd be a nightmare against most women, he imagines. And she'll be a fun, exciting contender in the ring against him. Someone the audience won't think is a foregone conclusion. Taking her down, even though she's new to the brand, will mean something. It'll make a statement. And he can fully hope she goes on to trash opponents after him, just to ensure it.

The arena dims as a hush falls over the audience.

The trickling strings of his music begins filtering through the speakers, his video playing on the tron. Silver and white laserlights dance around the stage overlooking the crowd.

Video

As the vocals begin and his highlight reel kicks on, Domino steps out into the light. A pair of spotlights converge over him, bathing his sleekly muscled frame in radiance, highlighting the black and white motif of his trunks, boots, and pads, highlighting every toned contour of physique. His arms raise to either side, reaching high into the air as his head tips back.

"And her opponent!," begins the announcer. "From Providence, Rhode Island! Weighing in at 188 lbs.! The Model of Perfection! DOMINOOO!"

And a single slash forward in a crossing X, spurring a pair of white sparks bursting from the stage at either side. His head lifts again, deep amethyst gaze cast out over the sea of glittering cellphone cameras, confident and boyish smile playing on his face.

Domino!

His focus turns to the ring and the goth girl occupying it. Smile still brightening his features, he squints towards her and points - marking her. And then he sets off, striding towards the ring with all the purpose and determination of someone with a mission. Upon reaching the apron, he grabs the middle rope and swings himself up onto the ring's edge in a single, fluid motion - then up and over with a clean, adroit vault to land on the mat on the other side.

Passing her, Domino spares her another quick, appraising look on his way to the turnbuckle before climbing it. His right fist thumbs against his chest twice before pointing out at the roaring crowd. One final, noteworthy salute to the fans.

At last, he drops with a twist to move into his designated corner. The referee-girl, notably shorter than the both of them, busies herself patting him down. Normally he'd shoo her away when she gets a little... extra inspecting during the search, but his focus is set squarely on Brielle. She has a certain dangerous attractiveness, he decides. Body like a Greek goddess, looks to be his height.

Oh yeah. She'll do.

[Afterhoursclub]

Brielle lifted her gaze the moment her opponent's music blasted through the speakers. The lights dimmed, and suddenly, there it was... Domino.

The crowd erupted in cheers, including Brielle herself. To anyone who didn't know her—or any of the Morgans—she seemed like a happy, innocent girl, simply excited to be part of such an event. But beneath her enthusiasm lay a very different truth. Her gray eyes and devilish grin concealed mischievous intentions. She was there to have fun, while tearing her poor opponent piece by piece in the process. This boy, Domino, seemed like the perfect subject: slim and fit, with plenty of energy, and apparently adored by his fans. He checked all the boxes on her list of perfect victims.

From the moment Domino entered the ring, Brielle's eyes remained fixed on him, giving him a quick, teasing wink as soon as their gazes met. "Such a pretty face," Brielle thought to herself. "It will look great squeezed between my legs!" She laughed, leaning her back on the corner, one hand on her chin. Still inspecting her foe's physique.

After a brief pause, Brielle walked to the middle of the ring.

"Well, then -handsome!" the goth girl teased, "You plan to keep me waiting for long?" she said, gesturing for Domino to come closer. Eager for the starting bell.

[CyanDimitrik]

Something about the way she's looking at him seems... predatory? But in a fun way, maybe. It's difficult to pin down. And Domino is equally sure Brielle, in the physical sense, will also provide an interesting challenge to pin. But he has every intention to do just that; an indulgent glance over her figure, reflecting on her smoothly toned body from shoulders and arms to her mostly bared abdominals, and back up again. There's always something that feels a little off about pinning a typical girl - pinning someone toned and lean like Brielle is going to be exhilarating. A rush.

Or he hopes, anyway.

Her comment draws an amused half-smile from the model, and he steps out of his corner to stand across from her, separated by mere feet. "Not at all," he replies airily. "Just waitin' for the-"

"Ready!?," calls the referee-girl. "Wrestle!"

"-that."

With a wave of her arm, the girl signals the bell to begin the match. *DING*

Domino's stance instantly changes to a readied posture, knees bent and arms raised in preparation to either receive her or go on the offensive. But he doesn't rush in. His amethyst gaze is locked onto her eyes, studying her, measuring her as he takes some steps to circle with her. But ultimately, he'll close the distance to meet with his opponent, one hand seizing for her elbow, the other for her collar to test her ability to meet him head-on.

[Afterhoursclub]

Brielle smiled. Domino was cute... and often, cute boys made for the best playthings. She was now looking forward to this match more than ever.

The starting bell rang, cutting the boys mid-sentence. Something that got a chuckle out of the goth gal, but far from being a candid gesture, her lips were filled with devilish intentions. She wanted to take the lead right from the start: The dark-haired girl decided to humor Domino, as she saw him carefully approaching her, trying to get into a collar and elbow tie-up. Brielle's movements were slow and calculated. She leaned down with her knees bent, a bit of eagerness, as the girl could barely contain her laugh...

Their hands drew closer and closer, but just before contact, Brielle began to raise hers, trying to get Domino to follow her movement. Almost as if mocking the boy's height, even though they were pretty much tied in that regard, just as their limbs reached as high as they could get, the British devil suddenly pressed forward, slamming chest-first against Domino's body with a loud -THUD-

"Ha!" she shouted, with a mischievous grin.

A mocking move that struck as a gesture of dominance and tease, letting the model know that, as playful as she might look, she was as tough as they come.

[CyanDimitrik]

Domino was ready to get the match underway, to get the show going. She's a big gal - not in an insulting way, but a chick who's 5'10" and toned like she can hold her own is a rarity. So he isn't going into this too cocky; he needs to feel her out first. See what she's capable of. Then, then he can pivot to the audience and turn it into a statement.

But for now, that statement is going to end in a question mark. Because her first gambit is to deny the lockup, and instead raise her arms high into the air, as if he were shorter than her. Though he's seen this plenty, never has he ever been subjected to it, himself. It gets a confused look at first, a glance upwards to her hands, then a dubious look trained back down on her face. He doesn't have to ask it vocally, it's written on his face: really?

If Domino were an underhanded person, he'd take the clearly presented advantage for what it is and fire a quick shot into the girl's vulnerable belly; find out what she's made of in the direct sense. But that's not how he rolls. He knows the audience wants to see this contest, and in a straight test of strength, he gives himself the edge. And so, with a humored smirk, his hands raise to meet hers.

Bump!

Suddenly, breasts thud into Domino's pecs, with a belted half-laugh that surprises the audience as much as it does him. The impact knocks him back a step, his arms lowering again to his sides quickly as if expecting more, but no additional follow-up comes! She just...

...she just boob-checked him.

Well, if he wanted to get a feel for her, this is a Hell of a way to do it.

"Aaalright, you," he drawls, hooding his gaze at her. "I'm startin' to think you're not taking me seriously."

Despite his words, the tone is humored - at least for now. A hint of playfulness to it. She might actually be taking him seriously, but this is her way of having some fun before they get down to it. He has no doubts that she wants to win, but he can appreciate a little humanizing out the gate.

He closes in again, however, this time not looking for a lockup. Instead, his movements are fluid precision, attempting to divert and sweep around behind her back, all the better to lock his arms tight against her stomach. His front pressed squarely into her back, hips to rear, and arms firmly biting into her abdominal region, Domino attempts to get the match started with a waistlock!

[Afterhoursclub]

A devilish smile stretched from ear to ear on Brielle's face. She knew too well what she was doing, and she also knew how much this would confuse the model boy in front of her eyes...

"Oh, I'm taking you very seriously, love!..." Her tone was still coated with the same teasing mockery she had since the very beginning. She enjoyed playing with Domino, never letting him know what exactly she was thinking, the true intentions behind her moves and gestures... when she was being actually serious, and when she wasn't...

All this formed part of Brielle's persona; she just couldn't help herself. In a promotion where everybody strived to look tough and badass, the mischievous goth was happy with just twisting everyone's arm.

She laughed, watching Domino circle her. She raised her arms, attempting to go for another lock-up, but the boy ducked and swiftly slid right behind her. Trapping Brielle in a tight waist lock.

"Ugh..." she grunted, instantly grabbing Domino's hands and trying to pry the hold open. But it was too tight.

"Oh, my... You are quite excited about this, aren't you?" Brielle uttered, turning her head to the side while taking advantage of their proximity to whisper into the boy's ear. "Me too..." a last sentence, with her breath brushing right over Domino's skin, and her lips almost kissing his neck.

[CyanDimitrik]

Domino sunk the waistlock in, and he wasn't about to let it go easily. In training, it was important to not do anything as a throwaway. Nothing without purpose. No wasted energy. If you headlocked someone, headlock them like you meant to win with that headlock. If you waistlock someone, cinch it in like you intend to win with that waistlock. So when she pushes on his hands, she finds the hold tightly secure around her middle. Domino unabashedly presses himself against her back, his toned contours firm against her back and shoulders, his hips tight against her rear. The arms squeeze inwards, testing the durability of the girl's abdominal muscles, feeling out her own sleek core with his hands.

None of this does anything to lessen the impact of her teasing, minx-y countermeasures. His head turns just a hair towards her, side-eyeing her face at this proximity that only becomes more intimate as she leans in. Her warm breath licks against his skin, and his body instinctively brushes against hers - subtle to everyone else in the arena but her. She'll feel every inch of the heavy, singular grind.

Domino doesn't shy back, however. The streamlined musculature along his forearms flex, pulling in against her stomach tighter in a squeeze. His face turns a little closer to her, whispering back, "Oh, you're trouble..."

[Afterhoursclub]

"Ugh...Hmph!" A faint groan escapes Brielle's lips as Domino's hold only gets tighter and tighter. No matter how hard she tried to pull the boy's arms away, she was not going anywhere. Still, even though she was trapped, the goth gal enjoyed the proximity of their bodies. This often gave her a chance to tease and try to get under her foe's skin... something that the devilish viper had achieved in many a match before...

Domino's will was strong, however. Paying no attention to her words... regardless, this didn't stop Brielle from continuing with her playful shenanigans.

"Only if you want me to be, love..." she replied to the model's words almost instantly, still struggling to break free.

At that moment, Brielle decided to switch strategies. She broke her grip on Domino's hands and leaned back into him. Taking advantage of the intimate proximity, she rolled one arm right under the boy's chin and back around his neck, pulling him even tighter.

"I love to cuddle, sweetheart..." she continued to whisper into Domino's ear. "But... I like to get a little rough, too."

Brielle gave the model a quick kiss on his cheek and suddenly pulled him even more, keeping his chin tightly pressed against her shoulder. Then, she dropped to the mat in a seated position.

She hoped her weight would be enough to pull Domino down with her, and if she was successful, she would slam the model boy down against her shoulder with a sudden jawbreaker the moment she hit the mat. Hopefully, giving her a chance to recover.

[CyanDimitrik]

Domino could appreciate a couple things about Brielle. First, she has an insanely good body. As he presses in against her midsection, he can feel every chiseled outline and contour of her abdominals. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't into it. And every press of her backside against his hips emphasizes the appreciation, unable to do much to very physical response to both the contact with her body and how she loads it suggestively.

She is definitely trouble.

And that's the second thing he can appreciate. On the one hand, it's annoying being distracted in a match with someone when his career's trajectory is on the line. On the other, he has to appreciate someone who can have a little fun in the process of a match. He's passionate about wrestling. She must be, too. If you didn't enjoy it and its quirks when it came to mixed wrestling, it'd be a miserably nerve-wracking experience.

She stops struggling with his arms, letting him reassert his grip around her waist. It redoubles instantly, and he finally starts to smirk back at her. Is she giving in to the position, daring him to transition it? Daring him to keep working her midsection just to see if she can endure it? She leans into him, and one hand turns flat, brushing a palm along the bared skin between her corset and hips.

"Is that right?"

Oh, dammit. That was a telegraph. Now he feels stupid. For all of about half a second on the way down with her as she drops, bending forward until his jaw collides with her knee. He instantly releases her from the grapple, standing ramrod straight for a second, arms pinwheeling loosely before he drops back to the mat in a dazed sprawl, arms spread to either side.