Rachel Carin vs Amy Poford- Unstoppable

"That's not it, I..." Amy fell backwards with Rachel's takedown, grunting a little as she fell on her back. Beg? Who said anything about-

The voice screamed, and everything came crashing down at once. The pre-fight soreness, the unwarranted suspicion, the lack of attacks, even her response to Amy's question at the beginning of their match... Rachel wasn't some tough as nails broad from the street; Rachel was whipped. Amy knew that Rachel had lost each of her matches, but she didn't know how, but apparently she had been absolutely squashed, and now had accepted somehow that all of her opponents were going to be sadistic bitches who wanted nothing more than to hear her cry for mercy.

And her resilience, the fire in her eyes, the resistance she was putting up... that wasn't a fighter's determination; that was the iron will of a survivor.

Amy grit her teeth. Fuck. Fuck. This was Blaise all over again. No, it was worse than that. Blaise was asking for it; it seemed like things just happened to Rachel.

Worst of all, Amy hadn't been holding back on this girl, and now she felt guilty. She needed to end the fight. Right now, though, Rachel had Amy down, arms around her legs, and Amy's back to the mat. Amy put her fists up by her face, and waited for Rachel to make the next move.

As she finally had a decent fighting position, Rachel's panting practically started to sound like growling. She pulled herself up, mounting the other girl, and began throwing wild fists at her face and abdomen. Having only done hardcore matches up until this point, she hadn't even considered if such a move was legal, but even if it wasn't she was not going to give an inch if she didn't have to.

Ah, so this was what it was like to be on the bottom in a ground and pound. It was... terrifying. The person on top loomed threateningly over the person on the bottom, blocking out a great deal of the arena lights. She also had full range of motion, while the person on the bottom did not, plus the added bonus of gravity. She felt a sudden pang of sympathy for her past opponents. Maybe a little less for Daisuke.

Rachel's punches were wild and unfocused, so Amy was able to largely protect her head by turtling up. But she couldn't do anything about the shots to her midsection without exposing her face, and as a result she was getting worked over but good down there; she was definitely going to find bruises later. Before too long, she took a deep breath, then bucked up, hoping to unbalance Rachel enough to knock her off her perch.

In her weakened state, it didn't take much to get Rachel to fall off of her mount. With a yelp, she came crashing to the mat, but not without taking one final swing for Amy's stomach. The match had worn her thin, and she was audibly trying to get herself off her back, but thus far it wasn't working out, instead just shaking and groaning where she lie.

Not nearly as weakened as Rachel, Amy was able to find her feet without too much trouble, though her belly stung from Rachel's repeated blows. Now that Amy had figured things out, she was reluctant to let this match go any further than it had to. But Rachel had proven that she wouldn't go down to a submission, which left only two other options. And while Amy was confident that she could knock this girl out with her own ground and pound, she didn't want to go overboard if she didn't have to. So that left pinfall.

She was holding back. Fucking Drake.

Amy needed a big move to lay Rachel out before securing her pin, and she knew just the one. But she needed Rachel standing for it. So she reached down and dragged Rachel up- by the armpits, this time- until she was in a standing position. Barring any sort of counter, Amy would kick out at Rachel's belly to make her keel over. Amy would then pull Rachel's head in between Amy's legs, then lift her up by the waist. Finally, she'd jump and sit out, drilling Rachel's head into the mat for a piledriver.

Rachel put up little resistance as she was brought again to her feet, groggy and tired and frustrated by all of it. Her vision started to blur up just in time to keep her from seeing the boot headed for her stomach once again, and with a loud cough she bent over. As she was lifted into the air, her mind flashed back to her first match with Mari Fuuma, and she gritted her teeth not only in preparation for the incoming blow to her head, but for whatever humiliation her opponent would subject herself to once she was vulnerable.

The women crashed into the mat- Amy on her bottom, and Rachel on her head- and, once Rachel's body was fully horizontal, Amy wasted no time in securing the pin, hooking a leg and pinning down Rachel's shoulders with her own.

The ref knelt down and slapped the mat.

1!

Rachel's head spun, the ringing in her ears dulling out the sound of the countdown nearby. As her leg was lifted above her, she tensed up, tears slightly welling in the corners of her eyes, as she anticipated some sort of humiliation.

2!

3!

The bell rang, and Amy disengaged her pin. But she didn't get up. She wasn't sure if Rachel was still going to harbor bad feelings or distrust for Amy afterwards, but she wanted to make sure that Rachel heard her words, so she leaned in close to Rachel and spoke quietly. "Hey, I don't know your life, but if you ever want to talk or hang out or something, I can give you my number, and I'll treat you to lunch." Then she stood up. The ref took one of her arms and raised it in victory, but she offered the other to Rachel to help her find her feet. Amy put on a warm smile. "Good match!"

Probably the biggest surprise for Rachel came after the match, as her opponent offered what seemed to be her friendship. The entire time, there was no taunting, no insults and no barbaric humiliation, and now it was over. She wasn't so sure what the paycheck would look like this time, but she got to leave with her dignity, despite all her expectations.

As Amy reached her hand down to help her up, she took it with a look of bewilderment in her eyes. After some effort to stay standing, she felt like it was high time she actually returned the politeness she was receiving. "Uh, yeah.. good match. Yeah..." between the soreness and the shock, she wasn't quite sure what to say, but she needed to say something. Something more than just "yeah."

"Yeah, sure... we could hang out. H-hey... I don't know that I actually even got your name."