Irene Inger VS Domino

As it turned out, Irene was a little exhausted, and she was scooting back from Domino as he did the same, moving backwards until she was pressed against the ring ropes.

“I couldn't breathe, you ass,” Irene growled at her opponent, still panting heavily. Aching from all his previous attacks, and embarrassed by the telling, if small, stain that had visibly formed between her legs, Irene wasn't in the position to launch another offensive yet. She grabbed the ropes and tried to hoist herself up, keeping an eye on Domino as she slowly rose to her feet. Depending on how quickly her opponent went back on the attack, she entertained the idea of jumping out of the ring to catch her breath, and if he followed her, she could have a laugh smashing his head into the nearest ring post!

"Fair's fair!," Domino retorts. "Smushin' my face in your ladybits, tryin' to suffocate me."

And the fact that she's still topless wasn't lost on him, either. Him, nor the audience. Though he can't tell from this distance how aroused their grapple left her, his own discretion has been, well, compromised. Wrestling trunks don't hide much, and he's doing his level best not to think about it. There's a fair blush on his face, though. Try as he might, he is aware of his situation.

He draws himself back up to his boots, his frame rising and falling more noticeably with the wear of the match. And true to his typical style, he has no intention to let her recuperate any more than he has to! He dashes towards her, hoping to ram the flat of his upper-thigh into her stomach. He's avoiding using the end of his knee, because that could really hurt if she had the wherewithal to get out of the way and he biffed it into the turnbuckle. So hopefully he's faster than she is energetic!

"We're not done until you're flat on your back, doc!"

“Fair's fair, huh?” Irene grumbled at him, her voice expressing the combination of sexual tension and plain, old regular tension that she was still feeling. As the two of them got to their feet, Domino wasted no time and charged her. Irene tried to counterattack, and extended her left foot up and out, hoping to catch his stomach or crotch on the end of it as he rammed into her.

Unfortunately, Domino had all the momentum coming forward, and the weakened girl really didn't know how well her extended boot would defend her. If she got roughed up by this too bad, or Domino recovered too early, she could be in for a world of hurt soon.

The force Irene musters is not significant - not by Domino's standards. It's more the placement that makes all the difference.

He charges forward, ready to capitalize on her weakened form, only to catch her boot between the legs. And in this state, that's just... just not cool. Breath catches in his throat, eyes widen in shock, and that momentum works for all the wrong reasons. He all but bounces off of her, staggering back, mouth agape and looking mortified at her. All the pain, shock, and disbelief that she'd take such a route is written plainly on his face - and perhaps even a little betrayal! They hardly know each other, but he's guilty of getting his hopes up for finding someone nice in the ring. It's a rare treat, you know?

He's not budging. Semi-hunched forward, forced into a temporary lock, Domino can only stare at her.

Irene looked on as Domino bounced off of her, and she didn't even feel that much pressure on her foot as he did. She hadn't quite seen where her foot connected with him, as her gaze had been affixed to his upper body, but it had to be somewhere important for it to hurt him this much. Wait a minute...

“Oh shit, did that hit you between the...” Irene trailed off, a huge grin on her face as the brawler stumbled back, holding the space between his legs in pain. Unaware that Domino was feeling more pain than just the physical kind, Irene didn't censor her reaction and laughed, leaning against the ring rope behind her. “Oh, that just sucks! I guess you'd better think twice before you run at someone looking to hit her with...” she trailed off again, but not to laugh this time. Irene caught a glimpse of Domino looking at her, and that glare of his was scary.

“You're mad...,” she said plainly, as if that needed to be said. He wasn't mad in a playful, combative way either...no, he was mad in a kind of way that made her want to put some space between them. Since she had no more room to retreat in the ring, she squeezed between the ring ropes and jumped right the hell out of it, backing up a good few meters from the edge of the ring.

“Now, Domino, hang on, I was aiming for your stomach,” she tried to defend herself, although it wasn't really true – she hadn't been “aiming” so much as hoping to get lucky, and boy had she gotten (un)lucky. In any case, Irene widened her stance and extended her arms for the possibility of him following her out. It seemed like they wouldn't be getting intimate with one another for awhile.

Mad? Hurt? Domino's not even sure, himself. Ask again when the dust of shock settles. Her retreat has the same effect on him as it might with a blackbear. He takes one stiff step, then another, forcing the tension out of his lower region. The overall effect of his slow, lumbering pace is likely more menacing than he intends, made only worse when he growls out a strained, "Come'ere..."

First the biting, then the low blow! She'd defended the bite like she'd never even heard of the rules, so could he actually believe she wasn't aiming for the hit she scored? He's skeptical. And whether it was intentional or not, he owes her now. She looks like she's ready for him, and he doesn't have the ability to overwhelm her with a rush. But she's not safe outside the ring; he slides out from under the bottom rope when he reaches the corner, and should he land safely, he'll lead with a hard overhand smash aimed to land square atop her head.

Because she's short like that.

“Oh, come on Dom, you and I were mashing our hips against each other just half a minute ago,” the girl lectured, “after that, is a single oddly aimed kick all it takes to ruin your mood?”

She was still using the nickname 'Dom'. To him, it had been a cute term of endearment, but she just couldn't be bothered to use his full name, not in a setting like this. When every second she spent talking was a second her agitated silverback gorilla of an opponent got closer to her, she needed to get her point across somewhat concisely. Hell, she had wasted too much time talking already. Until Domino calmed down, the girl would just have to go back to doing what she had come here to do in the first place: fight without holding back until she had either won or been beaten to a pulp.

Domino's feet slammed down on the floor outside the ring as he confronted her, launching a punch straight at her noggin. Irene ducked down and ran toward him, the punch landing on her back with a thud as Irene shoulder checked him. The girl bit her lip; even when Domino's punches failed to hit their marks, they still hurt. Pushing forward, Irene tried to back Domino into the corner post, where she intended to work him over further if he couldn't stop her.

One!

Two!

The referee is quick to begin the count-out.

Outside the ring, no cuteness registers; no dissuasive arguments. She broke the rules twice, and laughed the second, more painful time. The world's not in balance. He has to make it right, and the only way to do that is going to be giving her a pounding. Hell, he can't even think about the eroticism of wrestling a girl who's already half-nude. He's not one of those guys who gets a thrill out of having their manhood stomped.

On that same note, Domino's still not recovered from it. His movements are stiff and labored, and therefore provides little resistance when she dives into him. His back hits the corner post with a yelp! "Augh!" But with her bent over and determination to pay her back burning in him, he grits his teeth and tries to lock his arm around her head to keep her bent over, with the express purpose of driving his knee into her stomach.

Domino offers no words at this time. It's simply on.

A slightly sadistic smile crossed Irene's face as she banged Domino into the corner of the wrestling ring. Things were getting interesting again, in the more traditionally violent way. Domino was playing for keeps, however, just like her, and the boy didn't hesitate to fight back as soon as he got into trouble.

To that end, Irene gasped for air as Domino assaulted her stomach with his knee, an arm keeping her in the bent over position. The girl didn't like that, in fact she was sick to death of Domino knocking the wind out of her all the time. Without hesitation, the girl raised a foot and brought it down hard on one of Domino's, at the same time pulling at his arms with both hands in an attempt to free herself.

Three!

Four!

Her heel slams down over Domino's boot, eliciting another yelp of pain from the male. That, paired with her struggling, sees popping free of his grip. Thankfully by now, the ache from the low blow has dulled and his maneuverability is returning to him. And seeing her head lift before him gives him an immediate idea. His hands swing in, aiming to slap his palms to her ears - courtesy of her previous tactic. And should that land, he has every intention to grab her shoulder, pivot with her, and lead her forehead against that corner post.