Emilia Hawthorne vs Blaise Cameron

Emi finishes the volley of slams with a final nail to the gut from her rear, laughing to herself in a cruel manner as Blaise sinks into the corner like a limp ragdoll, barely hanging by his arms on the rope. A soft, cruel laugh escaped from her mouth as she turned and knelt down, her hair brushing Blaise's cheek and her lips inches from his ear as she whispers to the male wrestler, her breath enough to tickle him lightly.

"Did you enjoy that? You're truly a masterpiece in the making right now, Blaise~" Her tone was manic, almost unhinged. She was clearly enjoying herself. "As for my research on you...well, that depends on when you become a threat in the ring." A coy smirk. "Which isn't any time soon~"

She stood up and began to pace over to the turnbuckle directly opposite her helpless opponent. Gripping the ropes, Emi raised her right arm, holding up her index and middle finger to the crowd. She brought them down to press against her lips, but this time, she then moved her right arm down to hold against a red tattoo of a scorpion on the right thigh of her leg, which she had got at the beginning of her wrestling career. Her face held rare concentration as Emi braced her legs and pelted towards Blaise yet again. This time, she hoped to smash her right thigh directly into Blaise's face against the turnbuckle, aiming the spot with the tattoo specifically at his right cheek.

"Gosh...," breathes Blaise. "...I sure hope.. that confidence.. doesn't come back to bite'cha..." His head lifts to look at her with a dazed, defiant smirk.

His midsection is definitely hurting at this point. Those rear-poundings she delivered have left his core unwilling to flex right now, unable to support his weight just yet. His legs feel a bit rubbery, but he's not down on the mat just yet. He's thankful for the moment of respite when she takes off to the opposite corner of the ring, taking it for all it's worth. He begins breathing deeply, soothing out the pain, watching that elegant, svelte body of hers turn and pose.

Then she charges him.

Emi's feet thump across the mat. Blaise's eyes narrow with an as-yet-unseen keenness. In a blur of motion, the teen weaves out of the way, letting her slam her body into the turnbuckle! And in that instant, he grabs at her head and yanks it down backwards to slam the back of her head against his knee in a stylized stunner!

...

Blaise's mind comes back to reality in time to see a scorpion tattoo in perfect clarity before it slams into his face. His head is jilted back, impacting against the turnbuckle. The young grapple's body tenses at the moment of impact, but he doesn't make a sound. His mind is blanked out. If it weren't for the padding in the corner, he'd likely be bleeding pretty hard. But his arms slip free of the ropes and he starts to drop forward.

If left to his own devices, Blaise will falls to the mat and lie chest-first in the corner, his arms down at his sides and motionless, but for the steady shifting of his body as he breathes. He's... going to need a moment. He can hear the crowd. He can feel the mat under him. He knows he's vulnerable, but he can't will his body to move yet.

Emi held her thigh against Blaise's face for a couple of seconds before she drew back, watching him crumple to the ground with satisfaction. He lay face down, where he belonged, in desperate need of aid or a show of mercy from the vicious  beauty who was savagely destroying him.

Emi decided to grant him one. He had to be commended for taking those assaults in such a breathtaking way. She made to lean down and grab a clump of Blaise's brown hair, dragging him on his stomach without any care with a hand on her hip. She would then toss him to the ground, and then deliver a harsh kick to his side to roll him on his battered front.

The Silver Scorpion would then attempt the first pin in the match, by lying sensually down upon Blaise. Her chest would press into his stomach, her index finger would trace teasingly along the black trim of his sapphire trunks and her thighs would rest on either side of his head, giving him a very generous, close up and personal look at the very rear end that had been pounding him only moments ago. The referee of the match would approach to begin the count, as Emi gave a small smile, clearly anticipating victory...

Blaise is aware of a number of fingers tangling themselves in his soft hair. The next sensation is a sharp sting, eliciting a yelp! Blaise's limbs squirm and wobble along the mat as he's pulled along, doing his best to lessen the pain. The referee even moves in to fuss. Hair-pulling is supposed to be illegal!

Of course, it's not enforced or anything. She just... she just wants Emilia to know that she's disappointed in her. That's all.

Blaise finds himself flopped down in the center of the ring. His mind is racing, his limbs starting to squirm. But he soon finds a fresh pain surging up along his side as he's kicked rolled over onto his back. His body lies sprawled out before her, supine, stomach rising and falling heavily with each rapid breath.

Finally, he feels Emi's weight settle over him, and in a pin that's just... it's hard to concentrate. He can't decide whether he likes this or hates it. One the one hand, he knows what she's doing. She's pinning him down, asserting her dominance. On the other hand, feeling her body press over him in this way is exquisite. Her breasts press into his toned abdominals, each breath causing him to mash into them. He bare stomach rests over his chest, and the feel of her bare, feminine abs resting on him is sensuous enough. Her rear, while certainly perfect, is less appealing to him than the hips themselves. Were they a little closer, he might be inclined to sneak in a little nuzzling. Feeling her fingers tracing along the trim of his trunks, so teasingly close to his firming manhood, is enough to drive him a little wild.

Emi can easily feel his heart racing against her stomach, breathing a little faster under her. He desires her. There's no doubt about that, and he's struggling just with the notion of wanting to break the pin and not let it continue for as long as she'll allow.

The referee slaps the mat. "One!"

Thump, thump, thump.

Emi heard the heart of her opponent practically bang against his chest, eager to burst out under the sensation of her pin. His breathing had regained a bit of speed from the torn, ragged mess it was a moment ago. Push the right areas and a guy will be eating out of your hand. With a triumphant smirk, Emi began to tap the tip of Blaise's trunks with her finger, resting her free hand's palm against her face in a lax manner. She was that positive of victory.

"Looks like you couldn't quite stand against me in the ring~" She sang with a cruel voice.

The referee slapped the mat once more. "Two!"

Blaise hears the referee strike the mat the first time. But he's tuned in to Emi's body; to feeling her shift against him, breathing over him. His strength has returned enough to place his left hand to her waist, touching over her narrow waist. His right knee steeples as she continues to play over his trunks, doing his best to his his growing arousal. His heavy, humid breaths wash between her bare thighs.

The referee strikes the mat for the second count.

She's taunting him again, but that seems more like her native tongue. And how can he be mad at her while she's on him like this? Still, he has more energy than this. He can keep going. This respite is all he needs. His body aches, his head is starting a dull throb, but he isn't done. He can turn this match around and... maybe give her a taste of this pin with him on top.

As the referee starts to drop her hand for the third count, his right hand shoots into the air, popping his shoulder off the mat.

"We ain't done yet, beautiful...," comes his voice from between her legs.

Emi closes her eyes, preparing to embrace the sweet taste of her first victory in AFW. Truth be told, she wish it had gone on for a bit longer, but what more memorable way to perform a pin and make an impression than this? An entourage of male wrestlers no doubt captivated by her would be lining up outside her dressing room to demand a match, and one by one, she'd dismantle them all.

Emi awaited the third slam of the mat, signifying that the referee had counted to three and that was the end of the match.

It never came.

Instead, she heard a defiant voice that caused her eyes to open. She turned over with a frown, and was startled to see Blaise had managed to break the pin. This pin, designed to dominate any man and leave them breathless and at her mercy! Emi's body shook with silent fury at the development, before her body eased. But she gave Blaise a fierce glare that would send even hardened criminals fleeing in fear.

"Fine by me." She said, her voice dangerously tense as she pushed herself off of Blaise and rose up, stepping one leg over his head and standing a small distance away from him. "I'm perfectly happy to dish out more punishment on you." Indeed, the thought of that prospect caused her anger to melt into happiness, as she bounced on the balls of her feet, awaiting Blaise to stand.

Oh, she shouldn't be too upset. There's a strong chance Blaise is going to be hung up on this feeling for the rest of the night, and then some. His heartbeat and labored breaths aren't entirely due to the match itself. Not to mention the evidence that's right in front of her face - what she's been toying with for two very long seconds. In fact, she can likely feel his fingers curling against her bare ribs, scritching indulgently against her skin without even thinking about it.

Blaise can feel her body quake with anger, and her expression did nothing to mask it. That defiant smirk finds his face again, and he even quirks a challenging eyebrow at her from this awkward position of being more or less between her thighs. When she pushes off of him, the teen rolls opposite of her to end on his hands and knees. There, he takes a few seconds to simply breathe and try to come down from the exhilarating feeling of her pressing over him like that. In the meantime, he spares a hand to run through his hair, whisking through the brown locks.

He finds his footing and lifts to his full height... and suddenly springs sideways towards her, chambering the left leg before thrusting it out in a sidekick aimed for the girl's bare midriff! "Hyah!"

His rebellious smirk and cocky eyebrow were enough to make the girl scowl as she awaited him to rose. She prided herself on breaking the eager spirits of energetic wrestlers, but Blaise was optimistic on a whole other level. It was to the point of sheer naivety. Well, she would just have to stop toying with him...mostly~

As Blaise lifts himself to stand up properly, the male wrestler rushes to the side, his left leg poised to thrust out in a sidekick aimed at Emi's soft, feminine abs. She gave a knowing smirk as he came at her, and brought her taped hands up to counter as the Silver Scorpion caught him by his boot. Immediately, she would channel her strength to throw Blaise's leg to the right, intending to use the momentum to spin him around so his back was to hers.

If she was successful, Emi would launch her arms out and hook her right arm around Blaise's collar, bringing him down to hunch slightly as her left hand clenched her right one. The move would be a headlock, pressing her toned bicep into Blaise's neck to cause some pressure on him. The manuever itself would press the male wrestler against Emi's soft right breast as she squeezed tightly.

Blaise's leg pistons out forcefully, ready to hammer into the girl's body. But to his surprise, she catches his boot! He doesn't have long enough to reverse the situation into his favor, but he does have long enough to give an exasperated, "Aw, come on!" He was so sure he'd catch her off-guard with that one!

She slings his leg wide, and since he's interested in staying upright, he flows with the motion to end with his back facing her. Immediately after, he feels her feminine arm lock down over his neck and collar, forcing him to bend forward. To his surprise, even her feminine biceps feel nice. And the fact that the hold forces his cheek to press into her perky breast. His arms instinctively move around her waist, one hand resting on that belly he's yet to score a hit on.

As the pressure increases, the teen smiles wryly. "Nnh... knew ya couldn't keep your hands off me...," he teases. For as much as he's getting beaten up and she's making every effort to disdain him, he's still 100% spunk

He's been in a headlock recently, though. It was from a different angle, but it gives him enough mental wherewithal to counter it! His own streamlined biceps tense around her slender waist to get a solid lock, and with a grunt of effort, the teen attempts to heft her into the air, arch his back, and drop to the mat, leading with her landing head and shoulders first!