SS 19 Blade Uehara vs. Beauty Ichigaya

As Blade struggled in her grasp, Beauty breathed in deep and took a good, long whiff of her hair, making the most of the opportunity. There was something about the scent of sweat that made her tingle, and she had the smell of her rival committed to memory. An earthy, dirty sort of fragrance that teased the noise and made it twitch, but not overly unpleasant. Certainly something she could grow accustomed to, perhaps savor.

She had a short, knowing laugh at Blade’s question, and leaned forward enough for her long hair to fall over the smaller wrestler’s head, her curls shadowing their faces. It would give them some added privacy, and she threw in some grunts and squirms to sell the effort between them both...and give her an opportunity to rub up against her foe and feel their bodies press together.

”Is it really that hard to envision?” She brought her lips close to Blade’s ear, whispering hot words right into it. ”Perhaps you can come by my apartment after I’ve won this match, and I can help you paint the picture.”

Yeah, Yeah. Blade knew it was a stupid question to ask as soon as she said it. But she figured it was worth a try at least. One last attempt at making sure all of what transpired in that dressing room wasn't just some lucid hallucination from her spiked adrenaline high and perhaps that shrimp salad she'd had for dinner. Or maybe it was just something being in the water around here. Blade didn't care. She just wanted there to be a logical explanation for what the hell just happened back there. But all she got was Beauty locking her down further into the Full Nelson that had her arms dangling pitiably into the air and...and...

*...The hell...Is...Is she?...* Blade glanced behind her to confirm that Beauty was, indeed, sniffing her sweat-mopped hair and getting a whiff of her tangent musk like some psycho stalker who had cut out pictures of the Okinawan taped all over their room. Oh hell no. Blade seethed vehemently and started hating everything about this. How Beauty's strength had rendered her a limp rag-doll. How the Beaut melded them together to the point where Beauty's swelled breasts mushed against her back and Blade's pert rump was perfectly hugging the smooth inner thighs and warm crotch of the prim narcissist....or how Beauty keeps fucking insisting she's going to win. "Making a lot of assumptions there, aren't you? Primo being that you're gonna beat me..." Blade bitterly retorted with her head turned in Beauty's direction, scowling with a fire in her eyes, but was still jelly in Ichigaya's strengthened clutches.

Beauty’s amazing features scrunched up as Blade turned her way, showing some of that familiar fire. While it was a trait that she’d come to admire and desire, it was something she needed to extinguish for them to proceed in the direction she wanted - this was all about bringing Blade to heel, in the end. While she had hoped to work in some carrot along those efforts, she was more than willing to start resorting to the stick.

”Still harboring some confusion about the way this will go, I see.” She straight up all the way and poured more pressure into the hold. ”Not a problem. I know how to handle that.”

And with that, Beauty began the march back to the ring, dragging Blade along for the ride. Every few steps, she’d wrenched the hold and jerk her opponent about, making sure the fight was taken out of her, but she would always go right back to it afterwards. Slow, steady, unrelenting.

She only stopped when she finally made it to the ring, and promptly tossed the smaller woman in under the ropes. That done, she hopped up on the apron and proceeded to make her way back inside, too, keen on bringing this all to a close.

Amidst all of her battered fatigue, sapped energy reserves, and oddly detailed daydreams like an infatuated schoolgirl...this was about the only thing Blade could tangibly latch onto. The only thing she recognized as an undeniable aspect about herself that offered her something to concentrate on instead of all the warm fuzzies, the fluttering butterflies, and the bloomed swell of Beaut's breasts against her back. And that thing was how she just straight up hated to lose, whether it was to Beauty, the Won Siblings, Maiden Sakurazaki. Whoever. That was it. Nothing special. Just stubborn pride...but it'd have to do for now...

"I'll...handle you...ya...oversized...beauty pageant...reject..." Uh-oh. This was bad. Blade's retorts were getting worse by the second. Her lack of imagination coinciding with a lack of strength put towards resisting whatever was going on around her. She was not quite lifeless but getting there as she occasionally peered her head up to notice through half-lidded eyes that they were being maneuvering back towards the ring. A sight she only got a flinching glimpse of before the Beaut torqued in the hold and paraded Blade around like a pitiable lowlife being escorted towards the gallows, and by doing, so their ultimate fate. Only it'd be the Okinawan's wrestling career being sent to it’s ultimate demise. Blade rolled inside to a lifeless flop, face pressed into the canvas until whatever fight she had left in her compelled her to press her hands into the floor and start soldiering up to her hands and knees...

And back in the ring they were. Beauty let out a long, contented sigh as she hauled BLde in there, glad that they had made this rather odd journey. It wasn’t something she had anticipated when she started this, she hadn’t planned on revealing her feelings in this manner, but it had all worked out. It was fate, in a way, and now that she had laid out her opponent’s choices, all she had to do was execute. A glorious path was laid about before her, and she merely had to walk it.

Beauty slid into the ring and rose to her feet, using the ropes for support as she loomed large. Rubbing her chin, she contemplated her options for a moment. Her temptation was to just powerbomb Blade into submission, but perhaps that wasn’t the best tactic - it ran the risk of knocking her out, after all, which ran counter to her objectives. But Toshimi had given her some interesting advice on how best to make Blade squeal those desired words…

”The Venus of Submissions says hello, by the way.” Beauty reached down and grabbed a hold of her foe’s leg, gripping it tight by the ankles. ”When this is over, the three of us should have a little dinner date. Discuss employment opportunities.”

From there, it was a simple matter of grabbing Blade’s leg, slinging it over her shoulder, sitting down and pulling it along the small of her back with a seated Stretch Muffler - her newest finishing move, the Angel Breaker. Effective, easy-to-use, and excruciating. It would only be a matter of time before Blade caved...

Blade only had vague notions about where she even was at the present moment. The wavering jostles of the floor beneath her clued her into the fact she was indeed back inside the ring, but the fatigue of the match had taken its toll. Beauty had been an overpowering force of nature that high-flyers like herself inherently struggled against, and this was before she started filling her head with obnoxious visions of romantic entanglements between the pair. Man, Blade wished they could just go back to hating each-other's guts like the good old days. But as of right now she couldn't look any more defeated. The Okinawan babbling incoherently into the canvas, drenched in sweat and seemingly about to bathed in failure as well given how the beauteous powerhouse was pompously strutting around her and contemplating how best to score the win...until she decided on a submission that Blade has to thank someone else she hates for.

"RAAAAGH!!!" Blade let her opinion be known with a deafening volume, screaming out loud once Beauty started really cranking in the same submission Toshimi once defeated her with. Half of her anguished face mashed into the canvas as her flexibility and endurance was being brought to their limits and beyond, one hand reaching outward to nothing in particular before she just clamped onto her scruffy hair. The referee dutifully requesting if the fallen high-flyer was willing to mutter two simple words that would put her out of this misery...end her AFW wrestling career...and in essence surrender herself utterly to Beauty's whims. A prospect...that was beginning to become enticing. And why wouldn't it when everything was pain. She had nothing left. Beauty was her better, than and now. She's going to banish her from another wrestling league and prove that fact again. Why was she even fighting anymore? Who cares if she-

"...chizuru?..." One whispered word later, Blade gnashed her teeth and slammed her fist into the canvas to leverage herself a few inches upward...and immediately extended her other arm right at the Beaut's face for a clawing handful of Ichigaya's face for a blinding eye-rake.

They should take a trip somewhere after this. There were plenty of luxurious hotspots in Japan, but she doubted Blade had ever left the county, so this would be the perfect opportunity for it. Somewhere far and exotic. Hawaii? She had heard good things about Hawaii. Did Blade like surfing? She struck Beauty as someone who would like surfing. Or maybe they could try something more remote. Shanghai? Italy? The British countryside? There were so many possibilities, so many places they could…

”Chizuru?”

Did she hear that right? Was Blade talking about Chizuru? Why? After all they’d been through, why would that little waif of a woman pop into her head now of all times?

She was about to ask that very question out loud in a less than pleasant fashion, when Blade reached up and gave her the most unpleasant surprise - claws raking hard across her face. Beauty screamed and dropped her hold immediately, falling on her back and rubbing her eyes as she flopped about. Nothing had been damage - she hoped - but it was massively irritating, making her eyes water.

Don't ask Blade where any of this was coming from. What she felt right now...she didn't even know what it was. Or if the person she was thinking about right now, her smiling brightness with an extended hand reaching out to her...Blade didn't have the slightest inkling in the world that she'd felt the same. But...what Blade did know without a shadow of a doubt, was that she saw Blade as her hero. And heroes don't fucking quit...they don't kowtow to some high-class, obsessive, vainglorious snob aiming to take full control of her livelihood and mold them together into what they think is the perfect life without so much as her input in the matter. And they definitely don't FUCKING TAP-OUT WHEN THEY'VE STILL GOT SOME LAST DROPS OF GAS IN THE TANK!!!!!

"...oooph...You...God Damn You..." Blade seethed after flopping back down to the canvas, turning her head to Beauty with jagged teeth ferocity and a glare as venomous as the tone in her voice. She hopped up on her one good leg at the moment, but settled into bull-rushing the Beaut into the ropes right behind her. Years of grappling know-how enabling her to purposefully entangle Beauty's arms, leaving her in roped up in a crucifix position that the referee was chastising her for and started struggling in attempting to undo after the Okinawan rolled under the bottom rope with a dedicated and hobbled stride towards the announcer's table. Scrounging through it with papers flying a flutter and confused announcer's rolling back on their chairs, until Blade found what she was looking for and slide back into the ring. Breathing deeply with her arms hooked at her sides in a straight-lined waltz taken back to Beauty.

"Alright...you want us to become a couple so bad?~...Whatsay we start with something alotta couples do...and that is...TO START LOOKING LIKE EACHOTHER!!!" Blade bellowed out maniacally with a dramatic reveal of the scissors she has in her hand, wide-eyed madness in her eyes as she started snipping it several times before continuing. "Whaddya say BEAUTY~...Just a few cuts hear and there and you'll have a haircut exactly like mine. Short, scruffy, and split ends everywhere. But I'm afraid there not going to be calling you Beauty for much longer after everyone gets to witness you're new military grade hair-do. But hey, that's the price of love right? Or you can say I quit, right here and now. If not...maybe I can toss in a cool new facial scar that'll make you a hit with all the biker chicks..."

”You’re sure?”

”I mean, I’m pretty sure, but-”

”I want you to actually look! Do you see any broken skin? Anything?”

”I mean, you’ve got a little about the eye, but I think that’ll heal soon enough, so-”

In hindsight, Beauty really should have been more concerned about the situation she found herself in. She had just been blindsided and dragged around the ring by Blade, then caught up in the ropes, crucifix style. It was kind of kinky in a way, but she got the distinct idea that wasn’t what her future lover had in mind. There was all sorts of trouble she could’ve gotten up to in a match like this, with a position like this.

But at the moment she was a little too busy worrying about the potential damage to her face, and getting the referee to check her face, making sure there was no permanent damage. Her face was a valuable asset, and she had to be sure it was in proper condition before they continued.

Before they could continue, however…

”What?” Beauty looked on, wide-eyed, as Blade approached with scissors in hand and a maniacal look on her face. Those eyes continued to widen as she spoke and delivered her ultimatum, presenting Beauty with a cruel choice.

”You wouldn’t...you wouldn’t dare!” Beauty stuttered, her voice betraying her. Surely, Blade wouldn’t dare touch the masterwork that was her hair, would she? All the years of meticulous care, the conditioner, the appointments, the hours taken every day to make sure it had the right amount of balance and shine. She took pride in having the greatest, most wondrous hair in all of wrestling, and no woman could claim her throne in that regard.

”You’re bluffing!” But at the same time, Blade kicked her legs and turned her head from side to side, trying in vain to put more space between her and the deadly, devious scissors.

Horror movie monstrosities approached Beauty with less malicious intent than the Psychotic Okinawan now encroaching upon the rope-tied narcissist. Blade's elongated shadow blackening Beauty's crucified entrapment, eerily snipping her scissors with cackling giggles that her shoulders shuttered to as if all semblances of Blade's sanity had flew the cuckoo's nest. The only official who could have prevented this barber shop reenactment from transpiring stepped beside the hysterical high-flyer, chastising for her bringing such a potentially dangerous weapon into the mix and began talking sense to her...but for all her troubles would just get pie faced and sent tumbling across the ring without even having diverted Blade's attention from the Beaut. Whom she'd now be standing in front of, pausing briefly to salaciously lick the blunt side of her scissors in a kinky display from one whose never known to do so...

"MmM...yoU kNoW IchigaYa...a fuNNY thinG haPPens wheN yoU puSH sOmeOne righT To thE edge of A cLiff...when yoU tOrMent someOne and HaVE theIr baCkS to THE waLL...you wanna know what happens~..." Blade lurched forward to whisper those final words in a hushed voice, a tender and affectionate tone upended by the Beaut having her oh so precious face clamped down on so she could look into Blade's psychopathic eyesight. "...they realize they have nothing left to lose. You've beaten the shit out of me for years. You've had me exiled from Japan...taken my homeland, my livelihood, my family, my friends from me. If I don't get to defeat you today...I can at least leave Japan knowing I've taken something just as precious from you. So, how would you like it? A little off the top? A trim off the sides? Oh, a giant bald spot right in the middle of your head. You know Friar Tuck, right?" Blade tugged a handful of Beauty's hair up into the air, gleaming scissors taking their sweet time motioning towards the strands...closer...closer...