Hard Core POW: Lily Belle vs Elsa Grey

Lily was not a woman easily embarrassed. She had made a living out of being shameless and provocative, but what little pride she had in herself as a wrestler was blasted by this overwhelming defeat. There was no denying that she had been utterly crushed by this German giantess. Dark tresses clung to her forehead, wet with a trickle of blood that dripped down over her nose and into her eyes where it mingled with her tears. Unable to suppress the humiliating bleating sounds she made as she writhed from the pain and fear this woman had struck her with, Lily waited as Elsa retrieved the restraints.

Even over her own blubbering Lily could hear the rattle of the metal implements as they were carried back towards her. Submissively she raised her trembling wrists up to accept her shackles, but quickly withdrew them as a brutal stomp landed upon her soft belly causing her to fold up briefly with a convulsive and inarticulate sound emanating from her throat.

Flopping exhausted and beaten back down onto the floor the woman lay still as the metal collar was fixed about her neck. On other situations she might have enjoyed the feeling, would have even felt sexier in bondage, but tonight it was a symbol of her pathetic showing. The audience, at least some of them, had come here to see two women battle and instead saw a little girl paddled like a rank amateur. Sniffling loudly she gave only a sharp whimper as a hard boot flipped her over onto her stomach and her wrists locked behind the small of her back.

Following the frauline's orders and the lead of the chain she tried to rise, but without her hands or even shoulders down to assist her it proved a difficult task. For a few seconds Lily wriggled and flopped like a hooked fish until she was able to tuck her legs up beneath her and slowly rise. She stood like a drunkard, wavering side to side as her knees knocked together with quivering born of both fear and exhaustion. "y-yes.... mistress." The words were scarcely audible, just hoping that capitulation might earn her some leniency in the times that would follow.

"Good girl," Elsa cooed seductively, watching as her victim worked her way to her feet through considerable effort. "Come along now," she added, pulling on the chain as she made her way towards the exit of the arena, giving a little tug now and then to see if her battered plaything could stay on her feet. While there wasn't much she could do to this girl in private she had not already done in front of a crowd, she looked forward to the little ways she could keep breaking Lily, turning back to admire her work as she did. She licked her lips as she looked over her prey's beaten body, covered in fresh marks, sticky with blood, sweat, and the feminine juices that clung to her leg like a badge of shame. This was certainly one of the more satisfying matches Elsa had participated in, and given her track record, that was saying something.

Lily was not a woman easily humiliated, having little shame to speak of, but Elsa had certainly found a way. She had expected this to be a mismatch when she accepted it, but she had thought she would have at least been able to put up a fight against the bavarian bombshell. She had been absolutely crushed, several times over if she was honest. Physically, mentally, sexually Elsa had demolished her every step of the way. Bloody, beaten, and drained she staggered after her mistress like a zombie. Tears still streaked her face, her truest mark of shame. She hadn't cried in the ring since she was still a little newbie in the mud ring and someone had accidentally elbowed her in the nose.

At the third tug of her chain the unsteady slave lost her balance and fell onto her hands and knees with a loud clang upon the ramp. With a whimper and a groan Lily would half crawl after Elsa as she scrambled to get back up to her feet. "S-sorry, mistress..."

"Pathetic," Elsa sneered with mock disappointment as her obedient slave lost her balance. In truth, it was to be expected that Lily wouldn't be able to muster much strength after the beating she received, but showing sympathy now would just ruin the fun, in Elsa's eyes. "Your apologies mean nothing," she scoffed, "you will show me how sorry you are when I make you beg." A gloved hand snatched a fistful of the brunette's hair as she increased her pace, allowing Lily to either follow along at the speed Elsa moved or be dragged behind by the hairs on her head.

The crowd's reaction to the brutality of this match had been mixed, though not largely in Elsa's favor. Some actively booed in disaproval of the violence and human degredation, some gave in to their base pleasures and cheered for the buxom dominatrix, and some were simply disappointed with the one-sidedness of the match. However, while a crowd this size could hardly be kept under one mindset, a noticeable quiet fell over the arena as Elsa dragged her victim backstage and out of sight by the hair. Some of the jeers and cheers persisted, of course, but a sort of morose sense of humanity fell over much as the crowd as they watched this young woman pulled away to a fate they could hardly imagine.

Lily let out a shrill cry as she was seized by her dark tresses and dragged after her mistress. Unable to keep her feet under her she was half dragged out of the arena, crawling as best she could upon her bruised knees. Elsa's anger, and the rejection of her apology actually conjured renewed tears to Lily's eyes.

What? Why am I crying? She's just doing the dominatrix thing, it's who she is... Oh, god, am I actually crying because she's mad at me? Ugh, no way I'm really this pathetic...

As the two of them drifted out of view of the general arena, noise returned gradually, and then all at once as the usual chatter began anew. TV commentators tried to spin what had just happened in a dramatic and story-charged light, but deep down everyone there knew what they had witnessed was not just for show.

Elsa herself had to hide her own creeping grin as new tears came running down her victim's cheeks, her sense of satisfaction growing that much stronger. The intimidating woman marched through the locker room with her prize in tow, not stopping for even the most basic shred of dignity. So far as Elsa was concerned, this woman was hers now, and if she wanted to get home from their night of "fun" even slightly dressed, she'd have to find out how she was going to do that on her own. That was a night away, however, and there was plenty of fun yet to be had, as soon as they were out of this arena.

Winner: Elsa Grey by Handcuff and Collar