Selina Lash vs. Dmitri Markov Voronov - The Joy of Submission

Match Type: Hardcore
Victory Conditions: Victory by pinfall, submission, or KO

***

Dmitri was starting to suspect that someone in booking was out to get him. He didn’t know who, didn’t know why, couldn’t fathom what he’d done to draw the ire of whoever was in charge, but given the pattern of his AFW career, it was the only real conclusion.

It was hard enough for him to get matches. He put in the requests, but it wasn’t like he was in high demand with the fanbase, so it was rare for him to be put into rotation. He’d get action every four or five months, and then it was right back on the shelf. Not making much money, not much chance of moving up, and his record was abysmal.

When he did get matches, they tended to be low calibur affairs, not much fanfare to them, not a whole lot of eyeballs focused his way. That was the case today - a dark match, not televised, against a completely unknown opponent.

Oh, and it was hardcore.

That part bugged Dmitri when he first heard about the match, and it was bugging him even now, as he stood in his corner of the ring and stretched, waiting for his opponent to come out.. He could understand why he’d be chosen for a debut match - he was a low risk property, a good person to put up against an untested talent. That was just solid business. But having it be a hardcore match? He’d never wrestled that before. Never shown any propensity for this sort of match. So why the stipulation?

It was sticking with him, a thought crawling at the back of his head, but he did his best to push it to the side. If he was fast enough, he could end this match before the hardcore nature even become a factor. That was the goal, then.

As Dmitri stewed in his corner thinking about all of the slights he may have made towards the certainly insane booker at the AFW, another figure watched him from a dark corner of entrance area. The blackened orbs of the figure watched the man in the ring stretch as the time ticked on and on. Oh, how the company that had brought her on had so many rules to obey about the smallest things. Even now, she was being signaled to make her way out to the ring, a slightly upbeat tune playing and creating an echo as the small audience and the man waited expectantly for the figure to walk out and reveal themselves. The music continued to play on and on, one of the stage assistants began to grow a harsh tone, asking her something about her hearing.

The Black eyes narrowed, it was all so staged, so boring and predictable. The entire thing had been done countless times by everyone in this industry before: play the music, put on a nice little show, earn some cash, then waddle off to whatever life one was to live. Yet, if the figure was to get what she wanted, she had to follow the procedure. Of course, that did not mean she would do it their way.

Rather then step out into the premade show the cast and crew had painstakingly set up, the figure walked off, leaving a dumbfounded assistant to run after her. Of course, she had no intention of leaving, not after they had provided her with a chance for some…release. No, instead, she was walking towards the side of the entrance area, where a fuse box was close by all nice and convenient. Without a moment’s hesitation, and much to the assistant’s surprise, the figure simply flung the fuse box open and started flipping switches randomly, the light show and music suddenly cutting off abruptly before finally all the lights in the arena followed suit.

Only then was she satisfied, the woman pushing the assistant out of the way, following the sounds of confused murmurs to find the entryway to the ring.
As she walked on the ramp, the murmurs of the audience died down slightly, hearing the quiet click clack of shoes. The persons stride seemed slow, but it was difficult to tell as some of the whispers and quiet conversation were still going. It was only the loud CRACK that was like a sudden bolt of thunder that silenced everyone in the crowd.

It was too dark to see anything, and yet somehow the footsteps were slow, but sure, like the person had walked the way a thousand times before hand. The steps seemed to suddenly stop, roughly around one of the corners of the ring. The dead silence was deafening, everyone trying to listen and find where the person whom the footsteps belonged to.

But it would not be dead silence for dear Dmitri. A quiet whisper, so quick it could be mistaken as a strange thought, crawled into his ear like a spider.

“Little Pig…”

Finally, the lights came back on, and a scantly clad figure stood at the other corner of the ring. The blackened eyes only stood to highlight the golden iris that glared at the man across from her, her firm yet attractive musculature and female charms were on full display as she held a tightly wound whip in her hands.

It seemed Selina, the Princess of Pleasure and Punishment, had finally arrived.

Needless to say, but Dmitri was not exactly comforted when the lights went out. He’d been standing there, simply standing and thinking and humming to himself, waiting for his opponent come out, when all of the sudden...blackness. The entire arena went dark, leaving him and 10,000 of his countrymen looking about, confused and confounded. A blackout? Wasn’t unheard of, but it seemed like a weird time for it. There was no earthquake, it wasn’t raining, and he was pretty sure that the AFW would’ve been ready if this was a scheduled thing. In fact, the generators should’ve kicked in by now, and…

...wait. What was that noise?

At first Dmitri just thought it was the air conditioning or something coming back on, maybe the generator trying to restart, some random noise like that. But now, it was too close and it was getting closer. Rhythmic and steady, too, like footsteps. Closer and closer still, until a sharp, harsh sound rang through the air.

Dmitri hissed and recoiled as the sound seemed to cut through the air and rattle his senses, leaving him to wince in the dark. It was clear now, that wasn’t a ‘something’, but a ‘someone’. A ‘someone’ who was whispering to him in the darkness, with a voice that sounded too feral to be coming from a human’s lips.

And yet, when the lights came on, a human was exactly what he found himself looking at. Ostensibly, anyway.

The first thing that he noticed was that his opponent was taller than him. Chances were that some of that had to do with the attire she wore, with those high-heels adding some inches, but even if you subtracted those, she would still tower over him, looking down at him with those glittering, piercing eyes. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t really need to - this was his opponent, and the match was on.

Dmitri decided prudence was the best option here, and he went into his fighting stance right away, bouncing on his heels and staying a few feet away from Selina and that whip of hers. For now he was more than content to let her make the first move. He needed to analyze this for a bit, make sure it was as serious as the vibes told him.

So, this was the kind of squirt a place like AFW hides in their little reserves? He was more than a little disappointing once she got up close, the guy looked like he was barley over eighteen and should be working in an office serving coffee to some overpaid manager. He was a looker, that much she would give him, but his white pajamas seemed to ruin what little he had going for him in the intimidation department. Overall, he posed so little of a threat, Selina began to wonder if she could really have any kind of fun with him before he broke like a used toy.  She pulled the whip that was coiled around her hands tighter, insuring its quality while making a quick snap noise.

Well, there was only one way to find out how durable the boy actually was.

Oh, how cautious the young man seemed, keeping his distance while hopping from one foot to the next. He was watching her closely, that much was obvious, but she could tell it was not out of lust. He was waiting for her opening move, analyzing her and what she was capable of just by looking at her.  The thought that such a small morsel of an opponent was trying to be so tactical at the start of a match earned a raised eyebrow from the not so secret sadist.

If he was going to wait for her to make the first strike, then she would have to oblige. He was still a few feet away, and she had little intention of walking over towards him. After all, it was the master who calls, and the dog who comes. Rather, she let her intentions be known right of the bat, releasing her grip from her whip and letting the taught leather fall to the floor. The only thing left in her grip was the handle, which she held tightly like it was the tail end of a deadly viper.

With a movement that held power and experience, Selina arm moved much like the weapon she held, the whip quickly slicing through the air, looking to snap itself across the chest of the poor fool that was standing against her. She did so without even taking a single step from her corner, and all while staring at him with a remorseless glare, analyzing him as much as he did her.

As usual, the Tension audience was having more than a little fun at Dmitri’s expense. As he cautiously moved around Selina, looking her over from head to high-heel, jeers and jokes came from the audience like a bad stench, permeating the area. He was a coward for not rushing in, stupid for not trying to rush her head on, afraid of a pumped up dominatrix.

If this had been a few years ago, he might’ve even agreed with the crowd’s assessment, but that was the great thing about losing as much as he did. Several years in the AFW had taught Dmitri caution, that he should always assume the worst when it came to his foes.

Was it possible this was just an act on Selina’s part, that she wasn’t as formidable as her foreboding appearance suggested?

Was he willing to take that chance? Nope. So he hung on the periphery for a moment, hoping it would be a good idea to hang back. He was wrong on that count, but it was a nice try.

He raised an eyebrow when she let the whip drop to her side, and by that time, it was already too late. He’d seen people use whips as a weapon in movies and games before - silly, but not an unheard of concept. He never expected anyone could use it practically, though. Didn’t think it would be anything more than a gimmick.

Dmitri was proven wrong the second her lash sliced into chest, making him cry out as it bit through his gi to the tender flesh below. He didn’t have to look to know it left a red mark on his skin, a not-too-subtle way to confirm that distance was on her side. If he didn’t want her to pick him apart at a distance, there was only one real choice.

Dmitri took a quick breath, then charged in full speed, closing the distance in a flash. Starting strong, he swung his leg low, targeting her knees, figuring it would be best to exploit her interesting choice in footwear.

As Dmitri was quickly realizing, Selina was more than prepared to fight at distance if that was what her opponent chose to do. Perhaps he thought of her weapon as a mere prop, something she simply carried around with her because it went well with her costume and got the freaks in the audience going. Besides, what right minded person would use a whip as a weapon? It required range, incredibly difficult to aim precisely, and if the user was inexperienced, it was completely useless.

It was too bad then that Selina had worked long and hard practicing with her weapon of choice, marking a spot on his chest and unleashing a violent crack of thunder to impact upon it. Her skill held true, and the very spot she was eyeing suddenly shifted violently, the man screaming in agony as her weapon bit deep into his flesh and gave his nerves a searing hot kiss, from her to him.

Much to her surprise, Dimitri did not fall over on the floor broken in half by her attack. Instead, he seemed to stifle his cry that gave her so much joy, her eyes still glowing like gold as he regained his composure and started to think rationally again. Perhaps he would not be the hapless dog that was mercilessly thrown at her as she first imagined.

Before she could pull her whip back for another strike, the boy ran at her with an unexpected amount of speed and quickly closed the distance between them. Selina quickly retracted her whip, wrapping it around her forearm just as Dmitri came inches away from her. The boy wasted no time, pulling a leg back and kicking her.

An annoyed “Tsk!” escaped the mask. The boy was not just mindlessly swinging his leg, but rather going for the knees, looking to destabilize her and put her on guard. The fact that it worked irritated Selina more then the pain did, the sadist losing balance, stumbling to stay steady on her heels.

“Loathsome little-!”

To keep from falling, her hand lashed out, looking to grip the boy’s shoulder to steady herself. All while the arm wrapped in her whip came swinging down towards his head, looking to pay him back for his little stunt.

This match was in its infancy, barely even started, and Dmitri was already getting a good idea of what the game plan needed to be. She was big and strong and slow. He was little and weaker and fast. The objective was to hit her more than she hit him.

A lot more, preferably. But, then, knowing what he needed to do was a different thing than actually do it.

Things didn’t look that bad to start with - after all, his first attempt at an attack not only landed, but landed well. Selina was intimidating and dangerous and he really didn’t like the fact that she already had a weapon and the clear propensity to use it...but okay. This was nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d been trained for this sort of thing. He was ready.

That was what he thought, at least. In practice…

He hadn’t expected her to grab him like that, using his own body to keep herself level, and he really hadn’t expected her hissing words to come his way. He tried to pull away, get back into his ideal range, but her grip was tight. Maybe he could’ve pulled away, sure, but not before she could get in a good hit. A good hit.

While it wasn’t the strong blow he’d ever taken, not even the strongest from a woman, it was not a weak blow by any stretch of the imagination, and it left Dmitri’s world appropriately rocked. The hit spun him around and left him staggering, needing to take a few steps before he could regain his senses. When he did, he turned to Selina with arms raised, a tight defensive position. He had the strong feeling that she wouldn’t let his little lapse go unpunished.

Selina’s aim appeared to be right on the mark, with not only her arm grasping Dmitri’s shoulder, but also her fist tattooing a nice knuckled-sized red mark across his cheek. It seemed he had not been expecting a counter attack of any sort, judging by his lovely expression of surprised agony. The dominatrix eyes lit up at the sight of Dmitri’s pained face, and like a feline with cat nip her eyes followed it all the way until it was cutoff by the back of his head. Why did he have to turn away? She wasn’t done looking yet!

For every step he took trying to stagger away from her, Selina took one closer to him, following the ex-businessman so close and exact she could have been considered a twisted shadow of Dmitri. By the time he reared back around, there was hardly any distance between the two combatants, and what little was space there was ceased to exist after Selina lurched forward, both of her hands looking to clasp Dmitri’s wrists and pull his arms apart, attempting to literally tear his defense apart. If she succeeded, her chest would press right up against his, their faces so close Dmitri could hear her breath echo in her mask.

“Piggyyyy~” Selina said in a quiet sing song tone, “I want you to show meeee that CUTE face again!” In her excitement, Selina started to squeeze her foe’s wrists with a crushing grip, her eyes were so focused on Dmitri, it was possible she was unaware of her grip strength, the whip handle in her right hand being forced into the martial artists wrist, but weakening the overall grip of the domme.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know which one~ I’ll have you make that face, ~One way or the ooootherrr~”

If Dmitri was still groggy, or had yet formed a plan of attack, Selina would simply toss him over towards a corner of the ring with the intent of trapping him there for her future punishments.

This was a poor start, Dmitri couldn’t deny that, but he could already see some ways to turn this around. Selina was a tall woman, a powerful woman, crazier than just about anyone else he’d encountered, but he didn’t get the impression that she was a real martial artist, not in the truest sense. If he could take her head on, make this about technique, force her to fight on even terms, he was confident that this would became a fight he’d win.

He just needed to get his footing, meet her head on, and then-

”Woah.”

That ‘woah’ came from the surprise of turning around and having this destroyer of a woman in his face. Before he could react, she was reaching out, grabbing him by the wrist, and pulling him in uncomfortably close - though he wasn’t sure what amount of distance would’ve been comfortable with a woman like this. The other side of the planet, perhaps.

But no. She was right here. In his face. Whispering, sending shivers down his spine, holding him steady with an implacable grip. Maybe, just maybe, Dmitri could’ve wriggled out of it, but he was hurled away like trash before he had the chance, and he found himself with his back against the corner. The last position he wanted to be in, right now.

Knowing he needed to be out and fast, he tried to retaliate. Instead of languishing in the corner, he grabbed the ropes, yanked his way out, and shot his leg out with a lunging kick, attempting to plant his heel deep into her stomach and earn some room.

Despite how she looked and how she conducted herself, Selina had a good eye for character. Even as she squeezed the poor man’s wrists in her excitement, her inhuman eyes licked across his features, grasping every emotion he displayed and clinging onto it in her memory. Disgust, fear, and surprise. It was no look a man would normally give a woman, and yet such sharp and pointed emotions seem to make the scantily clad domme even more excited, adding to the strength of her throw.

Seeing him crash against the turnbuckle, trapped like an animal with nowhere to go filled the masked menace with a mixed variety of emotions. She had complete control of him so far, something Selina desired most of all when she performed, and yet the softer side of her, the one she desperately hid when entering in the ring, felt bad for this poor soul that she was selfishly using to make herself feel better…

Selina moved quick, approaching her prey with more ill intent. He seemed hurt, but she could tell this man was no fool. If she gave him any quarter, he looked more then capable of turning things around on her, and taking her precious control away.

She must have underestimated Dmitri’s endurance, but the man in front of her recovered quicker then she expected. Right as she was moving in to strike at him once more, his foot moved faster then she ever could have expected. The kick struck dead on, ramming into Selina’s feminine abs and stopping her dead in her tracks. The black eyes widened in shock as Dimitri’s foe retreated a few steps, holding her stomach as the fires of pain ran wild on her insides. She was hunched over from the kick, her face flushed red for all to see, even with the mask and makeup. When she finally raised her head and looked back up at Dmitri, those black and gold eyes were filled with…

Pleasure?

Selina was sure to leave the arm that had the whip coiled around it open. She let the leather fall to the ground as she moved her arm once more, looking to strike at the man using the weapons long reach, and attempting to force him to keep his distance as she recovered from his blow. If he got too close while she was in this state, and began to riddle her body with blows…she was not sure if she could remain in calm, or worse, control herself.