Irene Inger VS Domino

Five!

With Domino's hold on her head released, Irene forced herself up only to see his arms closing in on her head. “Aaaahhh!” the girl screamed as the pop his hands made against her skull sent her into a daze. That made Irene mad, having her own tactics used against her! The fuming girl wanted to punch Domino until he was in a coma, but he was one step ahead of her as his arm embraced her and forced her forward, slamming her forehead into the solid metal ring post. This time, Irene didn't scream, she just grunted in agony as the hit sent a sharp spike of pain into her head and down her body. When it was over, Irene felt like jello and had to grab the ring post she had just been driven into to keep her wobbling knees from giving out under her.

“You'll pay for that,” Irene seethed, feeling like she was going to throw up as her head throbbed. Though she was weak, the power of fresh rage forced her to keep going. All but throwing herself at her foe, Irene grasped his head as firmly as her trembling hands could and forced his head forward and down just as her knee came up, trying to bash his skull against it. But that was only to daze him; if it worked, Irene would try to grab his arm and work it around the corner post, then pull his forearm toward her to hyper-extend his elbow joint painfully against it. So help her, she was going to keep this up until one of them couldn't move anymore.

Six!

A smug look of satisfaction crosses Domino's face as she makes her threat. That hit, he owed her. Possibly more, for the degrading nature of the low blow. But the referee's counting is starting to reach the high end of the levy, so it might be time to take this back into the ring. And considering how hard he felt her head bang into that corner post, he's confident he can shove her back onto the mat without much trouble.

'Cept that ain't what happens.

She takes him by surprise by grabbing his head, and he immediately lifts his hands to try and deflect her away. This resistance keeps the blow to his head from being too severe, but he's still reeling from the sudden pull and bash. She gets ahold of his arm and hooks it around the turnbuckle to begin pulling, the strain immediately felt along the arm. "Nn'gah!"

The young model narrows his eyes on her, trying to focus out the pain and escape before too much damage could be done. To that end, he attempts to throw a wild elbow or forearm (whichever's closer, he isn't being picky!) towards her brow, hoping to jar her grip loose.

"Off me!"

Seven!

Irene looked up at the ref, who was shouting down at the two of them. The young upstart really didn't care about what the match rules dictated, but that didn't mean she was willing to break them to the point of disqualification. As Domino started fighting for his release and threw an elbow into her side, Irene realized it was time to get back into the ring. She yanked his arm one more time before releasing it, and grabbed the lower ring rope, using it to pull herself up onto the canvas. Irene's recent batterings had taken a toll on her, however, and the girl moved slowly getting back into the ring. She sat down on the canvas and moved her legs safely inside, before lowering her body down to roll the rest of it in. Meanwhile, she forgot to watch Domino for signs of activity.

Eight!

The elbow didn't tag as well as Domino had hoped, and the longer she kept working his arm over, the worse it was. Not to mention the angrier he became. She's making it difficult to feel vindicated! With that last yank, he lets out a fresh cry of pain, only to whip the arm back when released, drawing it in towards his chest with a hiss.

He knows he can't waste time getting back in the ring. He's never been counted out, and it's potentially the lamest way to go! He grabs onto the lower rope with the arm that isn't currently sore and hauls himself up onto the ring apron. The thought crosses his mind to just hurry the heck up and get into the ring, but Irene doesn't appear to be paying him any mind. That's a golden opportunity; one he can't pass up.

Nine!

While the audience is cheering for the brutality of the match as well as the sight of a totally top-nude female, Domino performs a small feat of acrobatic finesse worthy of his cruiserweight status. He springs into the air, landing his boots on the top rope, and uses that bounce to launch himself at her! Depending on how far onto her feet she's gotten by this point, the attack will manifest in one of two ways: should she be standing, or at least mostly standing, she'll be met with a high-angle missile dropkick. If she's still lying down, or even on all fours, a double highflying double knee-drop is in order!

As Irene stumbled back into the ring, the girl looked around for the sight of her discarded sports bra. Her breasts were getting cold, and since Domino was still too angry over her totally accidental groin attack to be tempted by the possibility of hentai shenanigans, there wasn't much chance of them coming in handy. As she staggered to her feet, however, a shadow passed over her head as Domino's elevated figure obscured some of the overhead lights. Turning to look at him, the color in her face drained as she realized what he was planning to do.

“Oh you dick!” Irene screamed as Domino launched himself at her. She tried to run out of range of his attack, but Domino's boots struck the back of the girl's head, eliciting a shrill yelp from the girl as she was sent sailing right back down to the canvas. The girl struck the ground, face down, not even mustering a scream as a shock washed over her. The science girl's entire body ached, yet felt strangely numb at the same time. Panting, Irene mustered enough strength to move away from her opponent, dragging herself to the ring ropes and sitting against them to rest. The boy's heavy attacks were making it hard for her to fight back, and he didn't seem nearly as tired as she was. The fight seemed a foregone conclusion at this point, but something in Irene wouldn't let her submit. Her mind kept bringing her back to earlier in the fight, when the two had been much friendlier with one another. Some part of her was still entertaining the idea that the two of them could go back to that, no matter how savagely they were fighting now.

In the meantime, the girl watched her foe, a glum expression on her face, as she waited to see what he would do next.

Thaaaat's about the reaction Domino would expect from her at this point. He can feel her body snap over when those boots connect to the back of her head, shortly before landing on his hip. It's not precisely a comfortable landing, but one he's made a hundred or so times before in training and matches alike. It doesn't slow him down too much by itself. It's the exertion and the harsh turn the match has taken that's taking its toll on him. His body is aching, his right arm is sore, and he's a bit lightheaded. His skin is coated in a light sheen of sweat, mostly bare skin glistening under the bright overhead lights.

The young model shifts to his knees and his gaze focuses on Irene against the ropes. And that morose look on her face registers. His severe expression softens a little. Is she upset because he's beating on her? Or because of the way things have turned? Maybe because he's going too hard on her? He feels a little better about that low blow after landing the dropkick, so... 'Maybe I should cool it.'

Domino suddenly gives her a meek little smile, perhaps even a touch apologetic. He moves to his feet and closes the distance, with every intention to lean down and hook his arms under hers, hoping to haul her up to her feet and hug her to himself. He doesn't immediately set to abuse the girl, if successful. He just whispers, "I'm gonna end this. But I don't wanna go too far. So, just... don't think I'm being condescending or anything, 'kay? Is it worse to tap out or be pinned?"

That is, unless she interrupts what he's saying.

A deep sigh escaped from Irene's lungs as Domino started walking toward her. For her, today hadn't been great. She was clearly on the losing end of the match, having lagged slightly behind Domino's performance throughout most of it. She was sore everywhere, and her head hurt so badly that she couldn't even handle staring up due to the harsh overhead lights, which forced her to shut them even though her opponent was closing in to seal her fate.

She could handle all that, though. Physical pain would fade with some Aleve, ice packs, a hot bath, and some rest, all of which were waiting for her at home. However, the emotional kind of pain, the kind she was currently feeling, knowing that her first meaningful encounter with the opposite sex that had occurred outside of academia had been ruined with a single poorly-aimed kick to the crotch? Yeah, there wasn't enough Aleve in the world to get rid of that.

Fortunately, as Domino pulled Irene to her feet and hugged her without the intent to crush her midsection, she realized that maybe she wouldn't have to worry about that.

“Oh, sweet, you're not mad anymore,” Irene muttered, returning his embrace by resting her arms around his shoulders. Out in the stands, the crowd let out a massive, synchronized “awww!” as the two opponents made nice with each other. Hearing them made Irene gag, however, as she was sick to death of having a thousand slackjaws reacting to everything she did. Frankly, being kicked in the back of the head wasn't her least favorite part of this whole experience.

When Domino gave her the warning that he was about to pound his newest victory out of her, the girl tensed up, tightening her grip around his head as she was worried that the fight would be resuming right then and there. However, the boy decided to give her multiple options for her defeat instead. Yaaay...

“Well, I wouldn't say that either of those methods is...worse, exactly,” Irene pondered Domino's question as she peeled herself away from him, standing on her own as she'd had enough time to recover a little energy. “That said, pins are just boring. It's just you holding my shoulders to the mat for three seconds,” Irene snorted, making a raspberry sound with her tongue to drive the point home. With what she was about to say, Irene was playing with fire, but nevertheless...

“If you're giving me the choice, let's see one of your submissions.”

On the other hand, Domino soaks up the saccharine cooing of the audience. He fully accepts his role as a "face," and making nice goes with that. Besides, these displays of humanity can be a refreshing change of pace. Save the truly brutal ferocity for when someone has it coming - when there's truly someone he despises opposite him in the ring. Irene, he didn't despise. She's... opportunistic, but it seems like she isn't particularly trying to be nasty. He can let it go.

The fact that he can feel those warm, perky breasts pressing into his chest doesn't hurt. Perhaps moreover, he can feel her heart pounding against him. It's endearing, even if it isn't intentional.

"I'm a guy. You hit certain areas, I'm gonna be salty," he muses quietly to her. But when she withdraws, he lets her go. His hand lifts to draw his index finger along the edge of her jaw. "It doesn't have to be boring. It'd be me, lying on top of you, face to face, feeling your skin, grinding, driving you into a frenzy of desire..."

...

He suddenly grabs for her shoulders to begin walking her with him towards the center of the ring. "But hey! Your call!," he chirps, that playful edge returning to his voice.

Irene froze up as Domino caressed her jawline, and as he talked about what his pin attempt would've looked like, she felt her nipples harden a little. Hopefully, he didn't notice that. Then he started dragging her toward the center of the ring for a submission maneuver, the teaser.

“Meh,” Irene muttered, shrugging her shoulders as best she could with Domino's hands firmly grasping them. “Like I said, pins last three seconds. I don't care how good you look, pretty boy, you can't do anything worthwhile in that time.”

As Irene and Domino reached the center of the ring, Irene started struggling against Domino's grasp on her shoulders, attempting to separate the two of them. It was more of a playful, token effort than a real attempt to turn the match around, and Irene hoped Domino would realize that her little squirms were nothing more than that. The girl was afraid that it would look like she had thrown the fight if she didn't do something to protest what was about to happen, and that could get her fired if the AFW managers were feeling mean.

“Hurry up, Dom, before I decide to kick your balls again,” Irene said, “and please, don't feel the need to be gentle.”

Domino was paying the girl very close attention. His gaze was practically burning on her while he delivered that sultry would-be scenario. So does he notice? Well, is she top-nude? Of course he noticed. It went exactly how he'd hoped, even if she tries to play it off afterwards.

Once he reaches the center of the ring with her, she begins struggling. He's taken by surprise at first, losing his grip on her. But she doesn't immediately shoot for the ropes or launch into a counter-attack, and that clues him in quickly enough. She gets a quick ghost of a smile he hopes will reassure her for what he's about to do.

His left hand grabs for the back of her neck to hold her in place, but his grip isn't rough - just firm. His other hand would appear to fire a punch for the center of her stomach, his body jerking with the motion to imply more force than actually manifests. In reality, it'll be no more than a bump against the midsection. Once, twice, and a third time, which he lets linger a third time to signal the combination is over. He's hoping she'll pick up the cue and double over, all 'stunned'.

"You sure about that? It's... harsh."