Irene Inger VS Domino

Irene braced herself as Domino grabbed the back of her head and swung the arm on his opposite side into her stomach, only for it to barely touch her. It quickly became apparent to Irene that Domino was trying to help her sell her defeat to the ref and any other officials who might be watching closely. It was a nice gesture, but Irene couldn't help feeling ashamed that Domino felt the need to treat her so delicately. To her, his concerns about holding back for her sake just had the effect of sapping her pride in what she believed to have been a first match well fought, even if Domino's ultimate victory had demonstrated that there was more work to be done on refining her skills. She wouldn't have any man or woman in this league thinking she was weak, Domino included, so when he asked her if she really wanted him to get rough with her, she answered in no uncertain terms.

“Your concerns are sweet, Domino,” Irene said as she bent herself forward to clutch her stomach in imaginary pain, speaking softly so the ref wouldn't hear her, “but I don't want you to treat me like some delicate flower. I want you to treat me like what I am: your opponent. You can get sweet with me after the match is over...in fact...I'd kind of like that,” she said, blushing fiercely and looking away from him. Her romantic thoughts only lasted a moment before her focus returned to the issue at hand.

“Right now, however, I'm going to make sure people know that even if they beat me, I'm no pushover. Now stop wussing around and end this fight like you mean it!”

As she talks, Domino positions himself behind her back, his hips pressing firmly against her rear. He slips a foot between her legs to nudge her feet a bit wider apart to deepen her stance and hooks his left leg over her left thigh. He whisks her long black hair out of the way before leaning his body over hers, his bare front pressing against her bare back. His right arm wraps around her stomach to draw her more upright.

He draws in a slow breath, exhaling a warm sigh against her ear. He can't think about being sweet on her later. He can only think about making this a spectacular finish - the sort that proves she's submitting to him for reasons of pain and nothing else. "Alrighty, then."

His left fist suddenly thrusts into the air, signalling his finisher is about to be locked on - on a nearly-nude opponent no less. This will be different. Definitely one for the cameras. And just as soon as he receives the pop from the fans, he swings his upper-body under her right arm and extends the left arm over her shoulders and behind her neck. Now fully in position, the young model will straighten his back to snap the girl's upper-body backwards and to the side, pulling her body taut and leaning on her stomach muscles in an abdominal stretch.

The finishing touches are soon to follow. With the girl bent backwards and strained, her midsection is stretched and defenseless. The fingers of his right hand dig into her abs in a stomach claw, his index finger slipping into her belly button to clamp.

The girl's chosen finisher: The Sterling Stretch.

Irene inhaled deeply as Domino worked a leg in between hers, forcibly spreading her legs apart as he pressed himself into her. As her dominant opponent wrapped his body around hers, she bit her lip and blushed as her nipples hardened again. Even though this embrace wasn't meant to be arousing, she found it a bit titillating nonetheless. Her tenor changed quickly, however, as Domino suddenly twisted her body to the side, pulling her harshly over his toned abdominal muscles to trap her in the single most uncomfortable and painful position she had ever been in.

The science girl's entire body starting twitching involuntarily as the girl groaned in pain – a groan that quickly became a shrill scream as Domino added to the torture with his free hand. He pressed an index finger into her belly button and grasped her poor stomach with the rest of his hand, crushing and mauling at her exposed flesh. It felt like the girl was being torn apart by four horses. It was especially bad considering the height difference between the diminutive girl and her taller opponent: it made the hold tug even harder on her soft midsection as Domino forced her body to contort upward with his straightening back.

Irene shut her eyes tight, letting out a soft, breathless scream as Domino's wrenching hand and body stole her breath away, literally.

“Is that...is that all you've got?” Irene hissed at her opponent, putting on a tough facade even though the mere act of speaking was torture for her. She was determined to outlast him for as long as she could, but even now she felt like she was on the verge of crying for mercy, and it hadn't been more than a few seconds.

The stadium erupts into cheer when Irene's body is twisted and the pain of the hold is written clearly on her face. Anyone beyond the first few rows simply can't hear any of her cries due to the volume. It's a savage bunch, the Tension audience.

Domino continues to work her over, originally considering sliding the hand up from her stomach to play with her breast. But after she'd insisted he go all out, it'd be kind of an insult not to. So the twist continues, the fingers clench firmer into her abs. He eases up only enough to tease her with a moment of relief, only to jerk harder to the side, pulling her body in two directions to create a ripping sensation along her front. The motions cause his hips to grind into her backside steadily, firmly, no space left between their warm bodies.

"Tap out or pass out!," he shouts to her, neck craned to look down at her face.

Every time Domino's body twitched, another scream from Irene's lips filled the arena. It felt like her ribs were being ripped right out of her chest, and each wrench of this agonizing hold hurt worse than the last. The girl tried to struggle against his grip, but the pain was already unbearable without her motions making it worse. The girl frantically moved her arms around in an effort to gain some kind of leverage to fight her way out of the hold, but one of them was trapped behind Domino's body, and the other couldn't reach anything important. There was nowhere for the girl to go, nothing she could do without feeling like her stomach was going to rupture.

Irene snarled at Domino, her head twisting painfully to look at him as he ordered her to submit. “Don't get smug with me, you son of aAAAUUGGHH!” Irene roared as Domino crushed down on her stomach, driving her senses mad, and definitely not in a good way! Paralyzed by the pain, Irene stopped breathing, incapable of doing anything else that would upset her stomach more.

Her legs started wobbling slightly as a shock echoed through her body. She whimpered, and as her body began to numb, an early warning sign of an honest to god acute stress reaction, Irene whimpered and reluctantly abandoned her struggle. “Alright, you win, you win, I submit, let me go, please!”

Domino clenches his hand tighter into her midsection, gouging her belly button and forcing her body into a sharper twist as she starts to sass him. And soon enough, he starts to feel the telltale tensing through her body. She's on edge. If she doesn't submit soon, she very well may pass out. And so far, she's in the running for Most Stubborn Girl In The World - her and Kira Malcolm.

Fortunately, it doesn't come to that. She vocalizes her submission, and the referee quickly begins flailing to signal the bell. Domino relents on the twist and immediately draws his hand back from her midriff, letting relief flood through her system. He takes a step back to let her stand on her own, his right hand immediately taken by the ref to raise as the victor.

Domino's eyes are glued to Irene, though, concerned. The fight got rough, and his submission is anything but gentle. Only one person has ever not submitted to it. At least he's pretty sure he didn't go too far.

As soon as Domino released her, Irene fell to her knees, too tired and sore to support her own weight, at least for the moment. Kneeling on the ground, Irene clutched her stomach, leaning forward and taking a prostrate position to minimize the aching in her battered stomach. It still hurt, but the girl's breathing became deeper and less labored as her midsection was able to recuperate from the stretched out position it had just been in.

As the crowd cheered for the match's result, Irene looked up at her conqueror with tired, unfocused eyes. Despite the pain she was in, she wasn't mad at Domino for beating her. It was a fight, after all, so these things were bound to happen. Although, after nearly being torn in half, the girl was a little annoyed that the altar boy had managed to hold such a grudge against her over a single lousy kick to the crotch.

“You're a cruel boy, Domino,” Irene mumbled, giving him a weak smile, “but I guess you beat me fair and square. Now, I really hate to ask, but might you help a poor girl out by helping me up?”

Irene doesn't even have to ask. She gets to, mind you, but it's not necessary. The moment the referee has released his hand, the teen drops beside Irene to loop an arm around her waist and draw her closest arm over his shoulders.

"Psh, no more cruel than you," he murmurs to her. "Besides, you wanted me to go all out on that hold. Remember? There's a reason I use it to finish people off!" He'll raise with her, albeit slowly to lessen the amount of pain and strain even that much will put on her body. "Let's get'cha to the ropes, and I'll get your top for ya. Unless you plan on marching back to the lockers all... free'n loose." The teen cants his head towards her with an eyebrow quirked and playful smile tugging his lips.

Either way, he begins to process of slowly guiding her to the ropes, careful to keep pace with her.

Domino demonstrated his chivalrous character by embracing Irene and helping her to her feet. She hadn't even finished her request for his help before she felt her arm being tugged around his shoulder, as the boy locked his sweaty body to hers. At the feeling, Irene didn't blush – she changed color entirely, her face turning crimson as her insides warmed up. As aloof as she tried to act, she couldn't hide a certain fondness for this guy.

Irene limped with Domino toward the ring ropes and retrieved her lab coat, which had managed to spend the entire match undisturbed, hanging right where she had left it at the battle's start. Taking a seat on the middle rope and holding the top one for support, Irene waited for Domino to retrieve her sports bra for her. It was lying a distance away, on the opposite end of the ring. While he fetched it, Irene worked up the courage to ask Domino something she had been wanting to mention for several minutes now.

“You know, Dom, even though you wound up beating me, I have to admit I really enjoyed being around you today. Well, except for when you kicked me in the head, that kind of sucked.”

Irene blushed fiercely, looking away from Domino as he started walking back toward her. She was nervous about the prospect of what she was about to say to him.

“Even though the match is over now, I wanted to know: do you think you might want to spend more time with me? I'd really love to get to know you better, without the damn audience watching us, and if we decided we like each other, who knows? Maybe you could spend much longer than three seconds showing me how you would've pinned me at the end of this match. Or let me kiss some of the bruises I left on you until they feel better. These are euphemisms for sex, in case you weren't getting that.”

Irene looked back at Domino as he arrived at the spot where she was sitting. “So, what do you say?”

Though Domino is hiding it better, don't be fooled; he's very aware of her state of undress. In fact, it's on his mind moreso now that he's not having to think about some new way to beat on her or avoid getting beaten on. And he's doing his best to not check her out. For some reason, it feels wrong to do so now that the match is over.

As he walks along, he stays quiet and just listens to what she has to say. He collects her sportstop and makes his way back to her, a thoroughly bemused smile on his face by now. He can't say he saw this coming, and for a while, he's unable to respond. Not because he doesn't know what he wants, but because he's so taken aback by it.

Her top is passed back over to her, and he clears his throat softly. "Well, I.. I had to tag ya back for the kick earlier. Cosmic balance or whatever," he excuses. "But..." A hand finds the back of his head, brushing through his hair. "Sounds good. No cameras, no audience, just you'n me." He nips onto his lower lip and a hint of color reaches his cheeks. "And, uh, yeah. I was picking up what you were laying down, doc. Don't worry."

Domino moves closer to her and leans in to carefully pull the ropes further apart, placing a boot on the middle rope and holding the top to make a gap for her. Of course, he'll be waiting until her balance isn't completely dependent on them. "It's Drake, by the way. Drake."