When the Music's Over

Sitting against the ropes in a dazed state, Irene felt Jessica seize her leg. Before she knew it, she was sliding across the ring, hissing in pain as her bare back was dragged along the canvas. Staring up at the towering woman, Irene glared at her, wanting to strike back immediately but not having the energy to do so. She was just starting to writhe on the mat in an effort to push herself up, when Jessica descended with an elbow to smash her back down. The ring shook as Jessica's elbow drove itself into her soft stomach.

“Huagh!” Irene cried, struggling to breathe as the air was forced out of her lungs. Her whole chest felt it as pain rippled out from the point of the impact, but Irene was stubborn to a fault. Before Jessica could get up, Irene reached up and tried to grab her head, one hand cupping her chin and the other seizing her by the roots of her hair. Pushing with one hand and pulling with the other, she started twisting Jessica's head to stress her vertebrae. The Violent Violet wasn't restrained in any way, so she would be able to put a stop to it, but Irene wanted to fight her every step of the way.

“I could mess you up so badly right now,” Irene muttered, knowing the sort of spinal cord injury she could threaten by targeting Jessica's neck like this. Irene wasn't going to wrench hard enough to risk it, but submission contests were won with fear as much as pain. Even the strongest woman could be made to submit if she feared for her safety, and Irene wanted to see if she could intimidate Jessica in spite of the size difference between them.

Jessica was elated, for a second. Her hard elbow was driving into Irene's soft gut, and Jessica exhaled as she hit the ground. That move would have made her dad proud. Hell, it made her pretty proud. Now, Jessica was in a perfect position to strike, and put away Irene for the second time in three days. Or would have been in a perfect position, had Irene not recovered quickly and thrown her weight into a painful and impromptu submission.

Neither the hand under her chin nor the hand wrenching her hair were terribly strong, but they did their jobs effectively. As much as it pained her, Irene was right. She could fuck Jessica up really badly right now. Submissions could be taught, throws could be taught, even mic skills could be taught, but there was no teaching that snap decision. She gritted and closed her eyes, and did her best to predict where Irene would be jerking her next. Even if Jessica had a year to impart all the knowledge that she knew, she could not give any information on how to be a total asshole in the ring who would do anything to win. That was something innate.

And it was something that Irene definitely had. Had the Violent Violet been in her opponent's shoes, she probably would have pulled a similar stunt. Irene was little, and Jessica was big, so the scientist had to do something to cross the gap in size and power. Jessica could not really blame her at the end of the day. But it was very far from the end of the day, and Jessica was fucking livid. She threw elbows, kicked, did whatever she could to get out of this hold. Her thrashing was not as violent as it could be, as she had to protect her neck, after all.

No matter what Irene tried to do in this position, Jessica still had an advantage on top of her, free to move and defend herself. Her immense strength made her flailing resistance much more dangerous than it might have been otherwise, and when an errant elbow hammered her directly in the right breast, Irene finally gave up and released her hold on Jessica's neck.

Wincing in pain, she tried to wiggle her way out from under Jessica. A hand went up to massage her sore boob; there would probably be a bruise there later, a mark that Jessica might appreciate seeing, a visible reminder of just how strong she was. For now, Irene was still in the fight, although hurting from the blows she'd been dealt by her fearsome opponent. She struggled on the ground, willing her sore muscles to bear her weight once more. Getting back up was hard, with a shortness of breath and a sharp pain in her stomach from the elbow drop, but she was relentless. Jessica was probably hurting from the twist to her neck, and she would undoubtedly be on the hunt to pay it back with added interest. If Irene didn't get back into fighting position fast, things were only going to get worse for her.

Irene let go. This last time, when Jessica swung backwards, she hit something soft with her hard elbow. That was enough to free her head, and Jessica used her newfound liberty to roll forward and get the hell away from the situation. Irene was not pursuing her, which was awfully wise. But then again, Irene was letting her regain her energy and stew, which was terribly unwise. The Violent Violet rose and turned to face the smaller woman.

"That was fucked up," her voice lacked irony, but she more than made up for it with malice. Jessica cricked her neck back and forth to make sure that she was ok. "I have done a lot of super fucked up things. Reckon you know that better than anyone. But I can't recall the last time I went for anyone's neck." Nothing too out of the ordinary. Jessica's voice rang out, clear and unrepentant. It wasn't necessarily a line she would not cross. It was just a line that she had not crossed yet.

It was fine if she was letting Irene get set. She needed a little bit of setting herself. Jessica hunkered down into her wrestling stance, and slowly approached Irene. "Not saying it was the worst of ideas. Just it was not a spectacular idea to do that shit to me." Her steps were measured. She wanted to see what Irene would do, to see if she could scare her into making a mistake. Because Jessica was there, full of malintent, ready to grab the little bitch and make her pay.

Was Jessica Wright, the Violent Violet, actually lecturing Irene on her offensive of choice? The college girl could scarcely believe what she was hearing, but it was telling that Jessica felt the need to take her to task, and as she spoke, Irene grinned.

“Aw, did I scare you, Jessica?” Irene drawled, stepping forward slowly to re-engage. “Good. Fear is an important part of submission wrestling, because fear will get a woman to tap before an injury happens. I wasn't going to hurt you, but you knew that I could have, and that's what matters. Now come on, Jessica. Come here and see if you can scare me into submission.”

Irene extended her arms, spread her stance, and waited for Jessica to charge. Mocking and goading one of the most dangerous women in Friction had to seem crazy, but there was a method to Irene's madness. She was attempting to impart her philosophy as a submission wrestler onto Jessica, to change Jessica's approach toward other opponents going forward. If the Violent Violet could gain an appreciation for psychological warfare, maybe she wouldn't feel the need to cripple her enemies instead. Naive, perhaps, but Irene was a stubborn little girl.

Jessica blinked. She could scarcely believe the words that were coming from Irene's mouth. They were fairly accurate, in all fairness, but the underlying tone of them was totally absurd. After everything that had happened, the night before, the match, everything, Irene was still talking shit. When the little scientist ended her speech, Jessica dug her heel in. Like a bull sizing up a matador, Jessica gazed at the woman.

She did not respond with words. That would have been too seemly, too normal, too unlike Jessica. The Violent Violet charged forward, he feet all but colliding with the canvas with fury unknown. Her purple hair flew backward as Jessica closed the distance between the two as quickly as she could. Her neck, the same neck that Irene had grievously threatened, was lowered. There was not even the hint of turning back.

The closer she got, the more obvious it was that Jessica had no real plan, unlike Irene. She was big and strong, and she wanted to use her size and might to solve all her problems. It was a clear repudiation of the ideas that Irene had just espoused, and Jessica brought her elbow up to catch Irene in a cross body whatever. She came, and she came hard.

Hoo boy, the look on Jessica's face! The Violent Violet was mad, and Irene's heart started racing as she mentally prepared herself for the consequences. No doubt her ruthless lover would hurt her for this, but Irene had quickly acquired a taste for sexual masochism. It was shameful to admit, but she loved to be broken down and used by her sex partners, and Jessica was the most dominant woman there was. Irene just needed to fuel her passion a bit, to make her angry, so that she would really relish the opportunity to fuck Irene's big brain out once this spar was over.

Of course, Jessica needed to reclaim her authority for any of this to happen, and Irene was making that very hard for her. The decision to launch herself into a furious charge was of dubious strategic merit, and as soon as she entered arm's reach, Irene shifted to the side and grabbed her. With one arm grabbing her outstretched elbow and the other grasping her head, Irene turned and used Jessica's momentum to shove her straight into the ropes behind them, chest first.

She wanted to see if she could trap Jessica between herself and the edge of the ring, but Irene could feel the power rippling through her as the two made contact. Stopping her momentum on the ropes would be like stopping a truck, and Irene shuddered as she was reminded of just how powerful the Violent Violet was.

Jessica did not wonder how this was going to end. There was no reason to imagine the consequences for her actions. Irene was meat, and Jessica was both the butcher and the diner. And Jessica was very hungry. The scientist sidestepped her, which was about as good of a decision as she could have made at the time, and Jessica moved forward. Unbothered. She charged at the ropes, and came bounding off of them.

If that was what Irene wanted, then she had better want for something better. Jessica had a plan now, and that plan was a good one. She bounded forward, making sure to only go a few steps. Then the Violent Violet took off into the air, and pitched her long, muscled legs forward.

Missile dropkick. Ruthless, powerful, and almost entirely uncalled for in the situation. Still, it came, fast and hard. Her purple eyes did not waver from her opponent as she soared through the air. If Irene thought she had her trapped, thought she had Jessica at a disadvantage, she was sorely mistaken.

With Jessica's momentum redirected, Irene gave chase, expecting to pin her opponent to the ropes before she could bounce off of them. Unfortunately, the edge of the ring was further away than Irene realized, and Jessica was as fast as she was strong. She sprung from the ropes like a wild animal and went airborne. Irene could scarcely believe what she was seeing, but when the mighty dropkick connected, she really felt it.

“Aaaahhh!” Irene shrieked as Jessica's boots crushed her chest. It had been a head-on collision, with Irene's own forward momentum resulting in even more impact from the already devastating attack. Her body was catapulted backward by the force of the blow, hitting the canvas hard enough for the thunderous slam to be heard outside the gym. When it was over, the haughty Irene was left sprawled out on the mat, whimpering and clutching her chest as unrelenting agony consumed her.

She was fine, in the sense that there was no lasting damage, but the single, overwhelming strike had left her feeling as if she was on death's door. Her chest felt like it was caught in a vice, and it was a struggle just to keep breathing. With any cogent defense wiped out, she was easy prey for her vicious opponent.

Jessica was moving quickly. She landed on the mat, and it kinda hurt, but Jessica had no time to take proper care of herself. No, her quarry, who was launching into all sorts of soliloquies, found it necessary to try and fuck with her neck, and Jessica was not going to let that fly. It seemed that as soon as she landed she was right back up, her motor burning hot and her rage burning hotter.

Jessica only took a few steps to get to Irene. The scientist had not expected Jessica to explode like that, which was a damn shame. A cornered opponent is the most dangerous foe, and Jessica was an entirely different animal when her back was up against the wall. Her methodical movements had her looming over her opponent now, bending over slightly. A few other girls in the gym were looking on now. They could tell that the outcome was not going to be good for Irene.

And they were right. Without much delay, Jessica bent down and picked Irene up. She pulled the woman up into the air and over her shoulders. Torture rack. If Irene wanted to go on and on about submissions, fine. Jessica was going to do a submission her way. It was going to be something that required a ton of strength, and more than a healthy dose of malice.