SD III: The Dasher Challenge

While Carmen wasn’t exactly a high-flyer on her best day, she was far from slow, either - she just preferred to employ her speed when it came to footwork and doling out quick strikes, turning her strengths as a boxer into her strengths as a wrestler. But she wanted to be well-rounded, too, and that meant adding some moves to her repertoire that weren’t commonly seen from a wrestler of her size and build, moves she’d been saving for a rainy day. Dasher was the perfect guinea pig.
 
She didn’t expect the pin to work, but she was surprised to get a two-count off it all the same, and all she could guess was that she’d caught Dasher off-guard, which would make him sloppier, which would make him easier to handle. Sure enough, as soon as she rolled to her feet and rose back up, she had an angry clothesline heading her way, one that could put her flat on her back if it connected. A shame it wouldn’t be.
 
Carmen rushed forward to meet him and promptly ducked under the blow at the last second, but that wasn’t all she did. As she moved underneath, she reached up to grab the swinging arm, pulling it towards her chest as she came around behind him. After a quick leap, her legs wrapped around his other arm, and from there it was just a matter of helping gravity out - she attempted to fall down and bring Dasher’s shoulders to the mat once more, going for a crucifix pin.

After having been duly educated on Carmen's striking expertise by means of her fists to his prodigious jaw, Dasher saw no reason to believe that he would see anything else from the impertinent striker. She was merely a mediocre boxer who takes advantage of her boxing techniques by employing them where they were never meant to be utilized. In a wrestling ring against proper grapplers who are unaccustomed to facing someone with that form of training. Dasher confidently saw right through Carmen's cowardly methods, and was intent to expose her lack of grappling prowess to the world before suddenly having his chauvinistic assumptions turned on their head. Along with the rest of his muscled frame before he thrust his legs up and barely kicked out of the surprise pin attempt.

Dasher now barreling towards Carmen with the sheer power of a human freight train and with about just as much subtlety. His right arm cocked back and aiming squarely at that bald head of yours before he found himself whiffing completely and caught completely off guard by the sudden entrapment of his other arm and the substantial weight leveraging himself backward. Dasher noticing his predicament several seconds too late as he eventually collapsing backward like a timbering redwood and found himself pinned to the canvas once again!!

"One!"

"Two!"

Dasher's legs kicking repeatedly in the air before one more concerted effort saw him shooting them upward and muscling out of the crucifix pin. Thousands in attendance rallying behind the underdog Latina and having counted along with the pin count and groaning just as audibly when he freed himself. Teeming with frustration and red-faced with indignation, Dasher would stomp off towards the robes and would violently shake them while letting out a burly yell. The infuriated grappler than tugging on the ref's shirt and yanking him in front of him to start a rather colorful shouting match with the ref, barking loudly in Japanese in regards to Carmen not taking this match seriously and even accusing the referee of performing a fast count on him...

And down he went. Carmen would have to thank Army when she had the chance, knowing full well that her success at the moment had a lot to do with their training together. Finding larger training partners to work with was hard, and he’d given her a great taste of what it was like to go against bigger wrestlers, let her try out moves like the Crucifix to really get a feel for them. This was the test, and so far she was passing.

Dasher broke out of the pin, just as she expected him to, though it did work even better than she’d hoped. Almost a three count. Fairly close. The idea of getting Dasher with a simple pin was enough to make even her smile, particularly when she imagined the way he’d blow his top of being beaten by a woman. In his debut match.

Granted, he wasn’t taking the two count well, either. She rolled to her feet and popped up quick, expecting him to be coming at her again with full steam, only to see him arguing with the referee like a spoiled child. As if they weren’t in the middle of a match. As if she wasn’t a real considered.

That figured.

”Hey!” Carmen approached him from behind, arms folded over her chest. ”Enough, stop complaining.” She gave him a tap on the shoulder. ’We have a match-”

The burly veterans temper tantrum was a culmination of him seemingly being incapable of laying one single solitary finger on the slippery Latina evading his attacks and making him look like a damn fool with her cowardly shenanigans. Spineless techniques that kept her from stepping up to him and taking her thrashing like a man.

Echoing boos began swirling around the squared circle from what was undoubtedly a jarring stop in what was suddenly becoming a rather thrilling match-up, rife with surprise takedowns, split-second counters, and constant heart-pounding near-falls. Which all came to skidding halt from the gruff veteran suddenly putting a disappointing end to the excitement by aggressively blustering and bellowing right into the face of the pin-stripped official who was doing his best to deescalate the situation. Dasher hurling accusations of a fast-count by slapping the back of his hand into his other palm repeatedly...

...until he felt the tap on his shoulder and immediately ensnared Carmen's arm with his own, than straightening their arms at a stiffened and contorted angle!! Rendering Carmen in a vulnerable position that left her incapable of defending herself and blocking what was coming. A vitriolic and maddened glare in Dasher's eyes before he cocked his free arm behind him and put every ounce of his muscled frame into a massive Lariat, one that he himself would collapse to his knees from afterward!!

Carmen Rodriguez was on the floor. She was staring up at the ceiling, wide-eyed and wondering how the hell she’d gotten there in the first place, and why her body felt like she’d been run over a by a car.

As if to answer the question, her memory began to stitch things together and remind her of what had just occurred. Dasher had been running his mouth to the referee, complaining about completely baseless things. It wasn’t unexpected - she was doing well, and that fact was likely beyond his ability to properly comprehend. That didn’t make his caterwauling any less irritating.

So she’d approached him, and then he’d grabbed her arm and trapped her, and then he’d clubbed her in the face so hard she did a full rotation, and that was how she got on her back like this and why her brain was scrambled. Made perfect sense.

Carmen would’ve smacked her forehead for being so dumb, if she’d only had the energy. At present, the best she could do was roll over to her chest and vainly start pushing up, attempting to get back to her feet. She would need a minute, though, and she doubted Dasher would let her have.

Any wrestler worth his salt would tell you that theatrics and subterfuge were as naturally integral to the profession as any back-breaking submission or high-flying slam. Flashy shows of bravado can rile up the crowd and playing possum in the corner could be just the strategy to turn the tide of the match in an instant...

...and feigning a blustering argument with the referee could coax your slippery opponent into lowering her guard, and be punished for her gullibility with a cocked back meathook clothesline square into that insolent face of hers. Dasher than tumbling over himself to collapse to his hands and knees from the overwhelming force he had leveled Carmen over with. The unbelievably satisfying feeling of striking some offense paydirt hardly quelling his bubbling indignation as pushed himself upward stomped over towards the rattled latina.

"クソの雌犬!!" Dasher viciously belted out while grasping Carmen by the cuff of her shirt, Japanese censors backstage already on the job of cutting out any further expletive slips of the tongue from the enraged grappler.

The seething chauvinist who would waste little time in stuffing Carmen's bald head within the sweaty and constricting confines of his meaty thighs before lining them up perfectly with a corner turnbuckle on the other side of the ring. A locked in grip around Carmen's waist and a muscled heave upwards would have her placed on his shoulders with a birds-eye view of the wide-eyed audience. Dasher than taking a charging rush to the other side of the ring with a bellowing yell before pitching Carmen forward and attempting a brutal turnbuckle powerbomb!!!

Carmen had just met Dasher and her brain wasn’t working at optimal efficiency at the moment, but even she was clearheaded to realize that the next few moments of her life were going to be filled with lots of pain and a good deal of body damage. There was blood and the water, and this shark was on the hunt.


Had to get up. Had to fight. Had to survive.

She’d just begun to rise, when Dasher came over to help her along in the roughest way possible, hauling her back to her feet with a rough tug, yelling curses in her face for good measure. She might’ve had an appropriate response for him, too, but before she had the chance, things were set in motion for a devastating end.

She found her head between his legs in the next moment, and in the moment after that, she was lifted up onto his shoulders for the telltale powerbomb position. That would’ve been bad enough by itself, coming from a man with his formidable power, but as her began to move forward, Carmen realized he had something more creative in mind.

She was sent hurling forward through the air with a fearsome throw, one that ended when her back crashed hard into the nearest turnbuckle. To say it hurt would be an understatement, as her back practically erupted in pain. Carmen stumbling out of the corner on wobbly legs, hissing in pain as she caressed her back, her eyes screwed tight.

Even with his sculpted physique and with all that imposing strength at his malicious disposal, the relative ease with which the burly grappler hauled Carmen onto his shoulders was still an intimidating sight to behold. Carmen going from languishing on the canvas to being propped up on his shoulders and awaiting destruction in practically no time at all. Dasher having ample kindling to fuel his adrenalized onslaught after having been made a fool of by this insolent shrew for the last several minutes.

All of which he intended to pay back tenfold as he took off stampeding towards the opposite side of the ring despite being blinded by Carmen's crotch in his face. Thankfully his honed ring instincts made him aware of where he was in the ring at all times, and those instincts clued him in on when to send the Latina flying into the remorseless turnbuckle powerbomb. The shaking turnbuckle vibrating wildly from the unsettling impact with Carmen stumbling drunkenly into his waiting arms.

After sneaking an arm over her shoulder and the other between her thighs to clutch her backside, a seamless tugging pull would now have the Latina held tightly and horizontally to his chiseled pecs. After parading her around the ring briefly in a display of dominant control, Dasher would stand tall in the middle of the ring and drop to one knee three separate times. Each time slamming her side-first against his leg before twirling her around to drive her spine first against his bent knee one final time for a spinning side slam backbreaker.

As bad as that hit was, Carmen counted her blessings, knowing it could've been far, far worse, given the way she'd come crashing down on her shoulder. She couldn’t dislocated it, broken something, and while she was in far too much pain to operate most of those bones at the moment, she could tell that everything was in its proper place within body. Aside from, maybe, her lunch.

The only question was whether or not Dasher had launched her that way on purpose, or if she just so happened to fall in a relatively safe way. She doubted she’d ever know for sure, though it didn’t seem like her well-being was a priority in the veteran’s mind. Especially given what happened next.

Carmen could only grunt in protest as she was hauled up like she was a small, unruly child, easily carried against Dasher’s slick chest. What happened next, though, was anything but childlike.

’Unh!”

Down she came, her spine crashing hard into Dasher’s side, sending bolts of pain throughout her body.

”Nhn!”

Again, even worse than before.

”Graah!”

The final blow earned a loud, rare yelp from Carmen, and that was all before he ended the brutal assault, putting her in a spin cycle that only ended when she came down hard with the final backbreaker, a move that sent her into spasms on the mat.

Continuing the momentum fueled assault with seamless fluidity, Dasher hauled Carmen off of her feet as she unknowingly stumbled into his meaty hands. Dasher knew that eventually Carmen's insufferable agility and cowardly elusiveness would finally backfire on her. No one was capable of evading attacks for the entire duration of a match, and eventually all of her luck would run out in a satisfyingly barbaric fashion.

As evidenced by the consecutive back-breaking maneuvers Dasher was putting her through, each one more vicious than the last and finally earning those pained screams he had been looking forward to hearing. Dasher having a wild-eyed look in his eyes as he slammed her down onto his waiting knee three consecutive times before letting out a burly yell while twisting her in mid-air. Sympathetic groans from the audience sounding off in conjunction with the unsettling collision of spine over knee.

Dasher than continuing to feed off of his adrenalized onslaught by slowly standing back up and encroaching upon the languishing striker at his feet. A beady eyed glare centering dead on her as he panted exhaustively. Dasher than bending down to disrespectfully slap the back of her head with cruel and expletive laden insults in his booming Japanese voice. His insults having a punctuation mark in the form of Dasher leaping up and driving both of his knees into Carmen's lower spine.