Sion Eltnam vs Mistress Paige: It's just basic chemistry! (For Killcarrion)

As Sion got Paige into position and leapt from the ropes, she felt a bit of uncharacteristic excitement. It was something she was unaccustomed to, the purplehead much more accustomed to cold, calculating efficiency. Simple questions of risk and benefit, especially important with the high flying moves she was well suited to. As she landed upon Paige's shoulders, however, there was something else replacing all that.

When her motion was brought to a sudden halt, however, that excitement turned to horror just as suddenly as it had been sparked to begin with. Her breath caught as Paige stood upright once again, leaving the captive purplehead entirely aware of just how high up she was right now. Before she could do much to struggle out, however, a tingling current ran up her spine as Paige started nuzzling her, taking full advantage of the way her head was stuck between Sion's thighs. A heated sigh crossed her lips as she looked down at Paige, matters not helped at all as the domme groped the tactician's firm derriere.

"O-Oh no..." she moaned out quietly, part of her well aware of what was about to happen and the rest thoroughly distracted by Paige's treatment.

Someone whose as accustomed as Paige was to scene stealing with marquee performances delivered off of whatever paltry bit roles the struggling actress could find, knew all too well about withholding her true potential until the moment was just right. Even if doing so meant enduring one hellacious strike after another until the tactician grew overconfident throughout her string of offensive maneuvers. Sion underestimating both the substantial strength Paige had hidden at her disposal, and how the vaudevillian can take strikes in stride so long as eventually it gets Paige within arm's reach and more importantly, up close and personal.

"Mmm~..." Paige hummed blissfully into Sion's warm sweetspot mushed against her elated visage, blushing radiantly and even hiking the tactician up to buck her further against the domme's pleasure-seeking lips. A reaffirmed posture that had the villainous dominatrix standing center stage while she tenderly made Sion feel right at home and become far too salaciously enraptured to consider notions as silly as "escaping" or "winning the match". Not when the tactician's crotch twinged with humid moistness and shapely backside was lovingly groped~...as pleasurable a distraction as Sion could have asked for to perhaps not notice Paige begin stepping towards the nearby turnbuckle to administer a booming buckle bomb against the padded corner.

This was going to suck. There was no getting around that, and Sion was well aware of it. Paige had thoroughly outmaneuvered her to get to this point, endured a withering barrage of blows, and now it had paid off handsomely. Perched atop the domme's shoulders, however, Sion was thoroughly distracted from appreciating all this by Paige's efforts at her lower lips, the purplehead twitching and moaning with the other woman's ministrations.

The embarrassment and arousal were soon overwhelmed by panic, however, as Sion started falling. Torn out of the air with heart-dropping speed, Sion was slammed against the turnbuckle in with a thunderous buckle bomb, the impact knocking the air clean out of the purplehead and sending spikes of pain racing up her back.

Sion arched her back with a breathless yelp, then collapsed back against the turnbuckle, legs splayed out and arms over the second ropes on either side, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, and lips slightly parted as she gasped for breath, looking up at Paige through her sweat-matted bangs. The other woman was silhouetted in the arena lights, and Sion's breath caught at the imposing figure she cut, the way she was looking down at her stirring something in the smaller woman's core.

An addendum that Paige may suggest Sion supplement to the tactician's assuredly in-depth list of wrestling strategies, is perhaps refrain from willingly offering a debauched sensual artiste like Paige such unfettered access to one's heavenly flower with no discernible means of escaping should plans go awry. Because, as expected, the vaudevillian would instinctively take advantage and become downright rejuvenated from the indulgent honey-suckling of Sion's generously presented muff until the pair themselves were hopelessly adrift in a passionate imprisonment of their own making. One where only Paige had the keys to Sion's release...

...which Paige figured wouldn't be until after sneakily waltzing themselves into position for the buckle bomb. The flamboyant dominatrix snapping her head back with a dramatic flick of her wild hairstyle, sporting a crimson hue and a feral smile upon swishing her tongue over her soft lips. "...*pant*...Such fatigued despair and soul crushing hopelessness...How can I resist tasting of it myself~..." Paige sashayed over towards the cornered tactician and escorted her towards the middle of the ring by palming Sion's pale cheeks. At that point taking the first plunge by lusciously making out with the purplehead until the humming and lickerish smooch became upended by a topsy-turvy spinning placement of Sion upside-down before Paige took the second plunge atop the crown of her foe's cranium in her Long Kiss Goodnight finisher.