Akino Sanada vs Armando ‘Army’ Rodriguez - This Is Awkward

Army was starting to get the distinct impression that Akino didn’t like him very much.

Maybe it was the way she looked at him like a roach that had suddenly wandered into her kitchen. Or maybe it was the way she kept clearly trying to fuck with his head. Or maybe it was the way she was continually using his crotch for target practice. But somehow…

It wasn’t a comforting thought, and Army didn’t have long to dwell on it, either - Akino was not of a mind to give him much recovery time. She was on him a moment later, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him into a tight choke, challenging his ability to breath. That would’ve been bad enough by itself, but then she went to his ear and started whispering honeyed words, tickling his senses. She had this deep, husky voice, one that made him quiver, a sensation she could no doubt feel with their bodies tight like this. Those breasts against his back, her hips grinding against him, her lips only inches away from his ear…

...just like she’d done with Carmen…

Nope. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Army surged with renewed vigor and thrust forward, making a hard crawl towards the ropes, eager to grab one and end this right-the-fuck-now.

All was right with the world and Akino's sadistically foreboding smirk was clear evidence of that. The grappling Gods gifting her the helpless and dim-witted brother of the ex-girlfriend who betrayed her for championship gold, and square in the middle of the ring to boot. Which was exactly where she wanted this match to go down, and where she flexed her taut, milky thighs around the rippled musculature of his sculpted abdomen whilst crossing her ankles. Old Armando here had the type of rippling physique that probably had all the ladies itching for a one on one late night sparring session under the covers...but for Akino, it was squeezing the life out of this Hispanic heartthrob that made her just feel all warm and mushy inside.

"Mmm...Just the way I like'em too...Big'N'Dumb'N'Blue in the face~..." Akino menacingly whispered while cranking down on the sleeper and vehemently attaching them both together, ratcheting up their muggy body temperatures and feeling eachother's sweaty warmth with the swell of her crotch slyly dry humping against his lower spine just to make it abundantly clear to Army that he wasn't the only one quivering here. "Psst...hey...wanna know a secret?...nothing waters my flower quite like feelin someone writhe and blubber for air before passing the fuck out. Well...cept for this one thing your sister did with her tongue where she-"

"Three!"

"Four!"

"Whoops...to be continued, at least until I catch you again. And maybe you can sweet-talk me into spilling the beans on what gets Carmen's motor running, too~..." Akino let loose on the rear-naked choke and started backpedaling with a sadistic sneer, feeling satisfied that she gave Army some food for thought with a dash of downright mindfuckery.

vIt took a lot of will for Army to not tap out, right then and there. Not because Akino’s submission hold hurt - though, yes, it did, but not just for that reason. Pain was something he’d learned to deal with, and he could put up with submission holds far better than when he first began his Tension tenure. If it were just that, he’d get on with his day, no problem.

But good God, Akino’s mindgames were making this match unbearable. The worst part was knowing damn well what she was doing, but being wholly unable to stop the effect it was having. And it really, really, really wasn’t helping that he was 99.9999999% sure that she was getting off on this, if the way she was humping his spine served as any indication.

He hoped the wetness he was feeling on his lower back was just sweat. Words could not describe how much he hoped.

The ropes were the only mercy he could find, and Akino her sweet time letting go, making sure to get in a few heated words before she rolled off. Army shuddered at the treatment and started to push up - until he realized just how much it had gotten to him, and the effects that it was having on certain lower extremities.

Nope. Nope, not fighting her like this.

Instead of taking her head on, Army rolled out of the ring and made his way to the crowd, adjusting his shorts as he went. He marched over to the the nearest fan with a large drink, a rather portly man in Dasher Inoba t-shirt, a small detail that made what he would do next that much easier.

”Gimme.”

Army reached out, snatched the man’s drink away, and proceeded to pour it all over his head and shoulders, letting the ice cold soda, spill all over him. It was refreshing for one thing, but more to the point, it was the closest thing to a cold shower he could get at the moment. It would have to do, fuck it.

Taking a deep breath, he spun about and charged back into the ring, popping up to his feet as quick as he could to get back into the fight. That detour might’ve left him open for whatever Akino had planned, but it was worth the trouble.

Of all the words to describe what just happened, "Therapeutic" would most definitely be close to the bottom of any red-blooded male's list who was currently watching Akino get her proverbial rocks off feeling Armando begin to drift away into sweet slumber. But that was the best way to describe what all of this meant to Akino, in terms of not only getting a firm foothold back in the match...but slowly beginning to retake what Carmen robbed her of aside from championship gold. A killer instinct that had long been dormant since her ex-lover went and stabbed a knife in her back the minute she shoved sand into her eye. It may not have been the right Rodriquez that she was enacting revenge upon, but for now it would have to do. Beggars couldn't be choosers, but she did intend to have old Armando here begging for mercy by the time she was through. Akino slinking off of Army with catlike smoothness and a predatorial gleam to her sole eye as her loins quaked and quivered from the thought of finishing where she left off the minute Army gets his well-defined ass back into the ring.

"...eww...now that's just unsanitary. Suppose I should take it as a compliment though, dude's getting all hot and bothered over little old me." Akino quipped with a slouched over posture with her hands on her knees at Armando taking a refreshing Coco-Cola shower to cool himself off and hopefully afford him a little shrinkage to deflate the tent she noticed he was beginning to pitch in his trousers. Hey...no harm in Army getting off on all of this just like she was. Why should she have all the fun? Heck she might have some fun with him about it later at how he was getting a stiffy like a horny pre-teen. The sadistic maid tugging and readjusting her gloves with a foreboding smile before taking off sprinting as the Hispanic heartthrob re-entered the ring. A newfound fearlessness guiding her swift-footed steps before she plowed her knee right into his abdomen, followed with another vicious punt with her hands clasped behind his broad back and pale cheek nuzzling up against Army's. "Lookit you...getting back into the fray just like that...Am I spoze to take that as you being too dumb to run...you getting a schoolboy crush on me...or you just wantin to get back to us rubbing all up on eachother?!"

So. Back into the fray. Army, dealing with his sister’s ex-lover, an erotic sadist with an axe to grind and a weird maid fetish. As silly as it was, the Coke had helped to lower his heat a bit, but he knew that was a temporary measure - it wouldn’t take too much to get him back to where he was a minute ago. And Akino definitely knew that, too. Problems, problems.

The fucked up thing? If Akino hadn’t dated Carmen, it wouldn’t even be a thing. He’d even be down for it.

God, he was going to have to take the AFW on those therapist sessions they offered.

For now, though, he was just going to have to grin and bear it, though Akino was determined to make that as hard as possible. She was on him the moment he got back to his feet, pulling him in close and throwing hard knees into his abs. He’d figured her for more of the submission type, but her striking game was pretty on point, too - and, of course, she made sure to mix in her special brand of taunting.

”Lady, do you have a fucking off switch?” He gritted his teeth, soldiering through the knees, and jerked his head away from hers. At first, it looked like he was just trying to get away from the nuzzling - and he was - but it was also to create some space, so he could bring his skull forward and slam it into hers with a wild headbutt.

It may have been hidden beneath several maliciously gut churning knee strikes and cryptically uttered sweet nothings whispered into his ear, but underneath it all was a hinted compliment towards Army gallantly storming back into the breaches without so much as a moment of hesitation or inkling of tactical forethought. Old Armando here was certainly quite the gentleman to not leave a lady waiting like that, but all this meant was that Army favored having good looks over having much of a brain in that blockhead of his. Which, as Akino mentioned earlier, was exactly how she liked her men/prey.

"Mmm...I'll take that as you being too dumb to run. Sides'...tough for me to turn off that when smackin you around keeps turning me the fuck on..." Akino salaciously and spitefully whispered into the striker's earlobe while hugging him tighter so his shredded pectorals grinded all up on her supple, soft breasts...that is until, he jutted that blockhead of his back before clocking their foreheads together. Akino seething with a yelping growl as she stumbled backwards with a wobbling quiver to her legs, her sole eye squinting shut with a hand to her aching noggin and several choice words directed towards Armando...

"GODDAMNCHEAPSHOTTINGASSHOLE!!!"

You know, Akino wasn’t wrong, that was a little cheap of Army. Headbutts weren’t illegal in the AFW so far as he knew - granted, the refs sucked, so you could never be sure - but that didn’t mean it was just okay for him to resort to such dirty tactics. There should’ve been some decorum, right?

So, he would’ve, normally, been inclined to cut Akino some slack. Save for one, tiny thing…

”Oh, my bad, I get a little testy when people kick me in the balls.”

Yeah, that was about it.

Well, with that out of his system, Army decided it was time to get back to business. Akino was staggering, and he aimed to make the best of that, charging in hard and low for a shoulder tackle, looking to ram her hard into the nearest turnbuckle.

Technically...Armando was the one who made the ill-timed leap that just so happened to have his junk being slammed onto where Akino just so happened to be extending her foot into the air. But the otaku-maid was in no rational state of mind to be arguing the semantics of nutshots, not when she was coping with a tremendous headache and cursing up a storm at the Hispanic striker who was the cause of it all. Akino didn't know what was it with this Rodriguez family and cheap shots to her head and/or face, but she had little time to ruminate on it all before being tackled out of her dazed languishing.

"...*Grr*...do a helluva lot more than kick you in the balls by the time I'm-OOF!!!" Akino's boots skidded along the canvas with her cheeks puffed and sole eye stark wide from being shoulder tackled by Armando clear across the ring and spine first into the corner turnbuckle. Which she wearily slumped into with her arms slung over the adjacent ropes and the breath rammed straight out of her.

When in doubt, nothing did the trick like good old brute force. It was the one thing that rarely failed Army in Tension. He could go up against submission master who’d twist him into knots, take on women who could dodge his punches with ease, but when it came to sheer brute force, he always had enough to get the job done.

That would be the case today, as a well timed shoulder tackle was enough to send Akino flying, launching her into the corner. Exactly where he wanted her to be. Didn’t matter whether it was a boxing or wrestling ring, corners were death when you were taking on a Rodriguez, and he’d show her exactly why that was.

Instead of moving in right away, Army took a big jump back, landing in the middle of the ring and coming down to a crouch, his fist planted on the mat. He spat off the side, snorted, and then took off a full speed towards her, closing in with long, powerful strides. He waited until he was close enough, then leaped up and spun about in the air, looking to crash into her with his back and hammer her into the turnbuckle with his full weight.

Size disadvantage was always just such an unfair hurdle for Akino to have struggle to overcome every time she had beef with some muscle-bound lunkhead. Present company included. For all the intricate submission techniques and joint-locking contortions she can conjure up, all it takes is some roided-out jock to have his brawn overpower her brains and leave her in about as compromising a situation as she was in right now. Rattled and sagging deeply into the corner after having the air gut-checked out of her by the rampaging Rodriquez sibling.

"...*pant*...*pant*..." Akino gasped out with a grimacing squirm afterwards as she clenched onto the adjacent top ropes while shuffling her legs around to start supporting her weight again...before the cheers of the crowd and the sudden blotting out of the lights in front of her compelled her to gawk forward before getting squashed the between the rock-hard musculature of Army's toned back, and the hard place of the unrelenting turnbuckle behind her. The side of her flinching face and her voluptuous chest smushed against the sweat-smeared bod weighing against her until Armando allowed Akino the breathing room to well, breathe...and than promptly slump down to her cotten-pantied butt, winded and knocked for a loop.