PDSM vs. Wolf and Cub - Old Fashioned

Wolf knew this wasn’t going to end well the moment he threw himself back into the ring, but he didn’t have much choice - he could’ve waited outside the ring, yes, but in a tag match like this, where his opponents had no trouble isolating him at their will, it was too big of a gamble. Not to mention, he absolutely did not like the way they were zeroing in on his daughter. They hadn’t involved her physically, not yet, but it felt inevitable if things kept going as they were going.

He needed to put a stop to it. Retake control. The only place to do that was back in the ring, so back in the ring he went.

And he immediately wound up hating that decision.

Dia wasn’t the biggest woman he’d ever met, but she wasn’t the smallest by any margin. Stiff. Well-built. Lots of sinewy, corded muscle. She was strong, strong enough to do serious damage to any standing opponent. But a grounded one? She could really go to work with that, and she proved it when her efforts came down on Wolf.

Stomp after stomp after stomp after stomp drilled into Wolf, hampering any and all efforts to rise. He’d place his hand on the mat, only to have it hammered on the canvas. He’d raise his head, only to have it battered down. He rolled left, she was there. He rolled right, she was there. No escaping her punishment, no escaping the damage.

Finally, his ring awareness came to save him, as he reached and grabbed the bottom rope to get the referee’s assistance - though he doubted Dia was the type to not milk a five-count for all it was worth.

Like a roach that would never die, Wolf endured all of Día’s cruel stomps on his defenseless body. Like the pro he was, he endured the pain, tanked the damage done to him and somehow managed to think with a clear mind thorough the situation. Many others would have faltered through the pain. They would give up, curl themselves in a defensive position and try to shut out the cruel world until the raining blows stopped hammering their bodies. Suffering and fear were both delicious mind killers, and yet the wolf still had his wits about him.

Like Día had done mere minutes before hand, Wolf used the referee to his advantage. Or rather, the rules to his advantage. Día was never very good at keeping track of the rules, so when the referee started doing a count, it caught her off guard a bit. She was in the middle of grinding her heel into his back when she heard the referee shout the number two. After a quick glance, she spotted Wolf’s gargantuan hand around the bottom rope. That action cost her another second. Now she only had two more before she was disqualified.

“Damnit!”

With her last second, Día quickly swung her leg to kick Wolf in the side before turning around and leaving him where he lay. She cast a nasty look t the official, but she knew there was very little she could do until Wolf was back on his feet. The demon actually began to chew the tips of one of her gloves, a habit she gained when she grew irritated or stressed during battle. Her foot even began to tap, as she waited for the mountain of a man to rise with his wounded leg.

Have to do everything myself…so many rules…always have to stop, I swear…

Cheyenne knew it wouldn’t be the easiest thing to watch her father getting beaten up and not be able to immediately do anything, but she hadn’t quite banked on just how hard it would really be. There she stood, watching on the apron, as this giant snake of a woman drilled him into the mat like a hammer with a rusty nail. All she had to do was jump in and stop, push her away, do something to buy her father some time - but he wouldn’t approve. That wasn’t their way.

So all she could do was wait and watch, no matter how ugly it got. And boy, was it getting ugly fast

Sure enough, even after he grabbed the ropes, Dia kept pouring on the pressure, battering him left and right and left again. The referee intervened, just not fast enough for his liking, and he still had to take a few nasty shots here and there, but the beating did end. Finally.

Gritting and groaning, he kept his hold tight on the rope and used it for support as he lumbered his way up, his cracking every step of the way. He managed to stand, with a few stumbles along the way, and turned to face Dia with his arms outstretched and fingers wiggling. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

”Dad!” Cheyenne called out behind him, stretching her hand out and waving it about. ”Make the tag, make the tag!”

Wolf merely shook his head and moved forward, looking to engage with this woman once again. There was still no need to get Cheyenne involved. He’d been through worse than this - not much worse, but worse. He could endure. It was just a matter of having his head on straight, thinking it all out and formulating the right approach.

Día had figured Wolf would go to make a tag at this point. He looked pretty rough, even by her own twisted standards. Scratches, bruises and decolorated skin decorated the man in a chaotic pattern. His leg didn’t look do good. It was the main focus of the PDSM’s onslaught and it showed. The joint was getting swollen thanks to the constant abuse, to the point Wolf almost appeared to be limping around.

Cheyenne had begun shouting for her father to make a tag, to swap out and get some rest and take a break from his injuries. Día had no plans on letting him get away so easily, but to her surprise, and to the shock of many, Wolf shook his head and got back into his stance. Even the Demon of domination had to take a minute to appreciate that…though not for the same reason’s others might.

“Still fighting? Well, you really don’t look like you’re capable of doing anything]…tut tut. Don’t you want to tag in your sweet young cub? You can get a nice break while she fights in your stead. After all, I’m still as fresh as a daisy…better even, after kicking your ass up and down the ring side.” Her taunting words grew sharper as she grinned from ear to ear, “Go ahead! She’s right there! All you have to do is reach for her.”

Día paused only long enough so that it would be clear Wolf wasn’t tagging in.

“No? Well, suite yourself. A glutton for punishment, I can work with that.”

Día would go so far as to tease Wolf, gesturing with a red finger for him to come to her, the smug smile never fading away.

“Come here cur! Prove to me your worth my time. Otherwise I’ll take my disappointment out on someone else~” Día chuckled, her blood red lenses turning towards the worried Cub.[/color]

Needless to say, but Dia’s taunting wasn’t giving him a real incentive to tag his daughter in - quite the opposite, in fact. Even with all the damage he’d incurred, all the pain he’d endured, all he’d suffered in PDSM’s clutches, he wasn’t quite ready to call it quits. Not if that meant putting Cheyenne in his place. Maybe one day she’d be right for this level of competition, but not yet. Not now. It wouldn’t make him popular or win him any points with his daughter, but he was doing this alone.

While Dia was busy talking, she wasn’t talking, a fact he was grateful for. It didn’t give him too long to recover, but a little time was better than no time at all, and he used it wisely. Deep breaths, measured and controlled, in and out, focusing. He was hurt, yes, and he would’ve been in better shape if this all occurred during his younger years, but a lifetime of rigorous training made him far hardier than most at his age. He could endure. He could survive. He could fight through this and make his opponent pay for even thinking about touching Cheyenne with that disgusting finger of hers.

”You want me?” He brought his hands up and resumed a fighting stance - one with wobbly legs, but that passed after a moment. He could do this. ”I’m right here!”

Wolf gave himself a harsh slap on the face, psyching up, then rushed forward to take Dia head-on, rushing her way in a mad charge. He brought his arms up and ducked low, looking to tackle her and ram the woman into the nearest neutral turnbuckle, put her in a place where his size and strength advantage could easily win the day.

Día couldn’t help but laugh. The big bad Wolf’s legs were shaking like a young dough standing for the first time. This was what she was supposed to be afraid of? This old, battered man? He was too stubborn to even let his daughter come in and take the fall for him. A shame, since she was exactly the type both Día an Selina absolutely loved getting their hands on.

Still, if this was how he wanted to be bested, then she would grant him his last wish. The demon smirked as Wolf slapped his own face, her hand unconsciously waving him off, as though he were a simple joke. Even with his shaky legs, and strange habits, Día was sure to keep an eye on him. Her taunts were measured and aimed, looking to poke him in his soft spots and try to get a reaction. He didn’t budge at all, really an impressive display of patience that few ever had before.

But then he blasted off. He wasn’t the quickest person Día had ever seen, but he was still much faster than she ever expected him to be. He had a damaged leg, and yet he was charging at her like a belligerent bull! In a quick bid of surprised desperation, she swung a hard-right hook, looking to hopefully knock him off course. Alas, Wolf must have expected such a tactic, or had seen it before as he ducked down under her fist and snatched her off the ground. His shoulder was broad and strong, and with little effort, the demon of domination was thrown against the corner post, a quick jolt of pain shooting up her spin as she became trapped between a Wolf and a hard place.

It wasn’t easy for Wolf to move like this, having to soldier through the pain in his leg every step of the way, his bulk making every movement pure agony. It wasn’t quite at the level that there’d be a real threat of injury, he was fairly certain of that, but it was getting far closer to that point that he was comfortable with. He needed to end this, and he needed to end it soon, so this desperate push was going to have to be his last gasp before the tank dried out.

Thankfully, it seemed to work - better than he was expecting, at any rate. He came in hard, and it seemed like his initiative paid off, as he was able to drive her back hard and get Dia to the ropes, using his bulk to keep her in place. Everything seemed to work out well at first, and he even let himself smile for a moment, sensing this was starting to get back into his control.

This wasn’t meant to last, however. All that damage was taking its toll, and it all culminated at once, as her collapsed to his one good knee, losing the momentary advantage. Knowing he was in a bad position, he raised his arms up in defense, but it was just a saving throw - he had no idea what this woman would be coming at him with now, wide open to her attacks.

Thankfully, the evil red lenses kept Dias eyes from being visible. Otherwise, Wolf might have seen the surprised terror in her eyes as he completely closed the distance in the blinks of an eye, then managed to totally duck under her counter attack! Before she knew it, she was actually stuck in the corner with this fucking behemoth of a man! For a minute, she was in a total panic, the back of her mind already coming up with a hasty apology in a bid for self-preservation. Her usually scowl was turned into a shaky frown as Wolf seemed to stare her down with an intent glare!

But then he fell down.

The shock on his body from coming to such a sudden stop was too much for his beaten joint. Even with Día used as a cushion, too much force was being applied to the veteran’s knee, and so he fell to his one good knee, both fighters instantly recognizing the opportunity such a vulnerability presented, and the damage that could be done!

Wolf brought up his arms, turtling his defense as embarrassment and rage took hold of Dia. Like a true maniac, she began to pant as her blood boiled and her fangs were bared once again, the woman taking on the image of a true demon as she glared down at Wolf like a force of nature!

Without Mercy, a hailstorm of fists and blows smashed across his back and even his neck! The woman swung with fury and power; her opening volley akin to a shotgun blast that damaged a wide area of Wolf’s defense just to create some cracks. What came next was far more precise. A straight shot right into Wolf’s arms, sharp and direct. Like a pickaxe tearing at a stone was, Día continued to beat Wolf’s arm’s raw, not even stopping for bruises or welts that might form due to her onslaught.

If Wolf had yet to rise from his defenseless state, the Día would bring out one of her deadliest attacks in an attempt to finally put down this old dog. The Darkness Spear! Her cold hands would go right past his beaten defense, grab ahold of his long hair, and without mercy, SLAM his head into her knee as though it were a public execution rather than a match!

Wolf had been on his knees, trying in vain to rise and cursing his luck. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, PDSM had done a decent job of working his leg, the sort of long term tactic that many wrestlers didn’t have the patience for, and this was a prime example of how it could pay dividends. It didn’t matter how strong he was, it didn’t matter how weak they were - if he couldn’t use one of his legs, his entire repertoire was either hampered or nullified. He was down, he was open, this was the perfect time to strike, and Dia did not waste that opportunity.

Credit where credit was due - Dia was a strange woman, possibly insane, with a weird taste in clothing and a lewd gimmick that had no place in wrestling, but good Lord, the woman could punch.

The blows came down like a hailstorm, relentless and without mercy. He had his arms up in a good position to block them, but like this, on his knees, there was only so much he could hope to deflect. One came through his guard, then another, and another, cracking him against the face, the jaw, the eyes. After a few moments, it didn’t even seem like she was trying to break through, so much as she was attacking his arms themselves, whipping away at them to chip at his guard. It was a precise, targeted sort of attack, and it gave the impression that she was looking for something, setting up. But what for?

He found out soon enough, as she grabbed his head and shot her knee out like a bullet, cracking him square in the middle of his face. Wolf’s head flew back and the rest of his body came along for the ride, as the entire world went white, his vision filling with stars. He came down for a hard crash on his back and laid still, staring up at the ceiling in a daze, blinking as his mind tried to put everything back together into a coherent picture.

From the sidelines, Cheyenne hissed and recoiled. This was hardly the first time she’d seen her father taking hits like that, she’d watched all his old matches throughout her life. But, somehow, being in the ring made it a different experience than seeing him on Youtube or even looking on from the audience. Here, she could feel the impacts, and that made the whole thing more visceral.

Like a gun, Día’s knee fired up and into Wolf’s skull, sending a painful shockwave right through his head! The audience could see the man’s head whip back as violently as Selina’s signature weapon, Wolf slowly losing his grip on reality as he came crashing down onto the canvas floor. His world was lit only by the overhead lights, and the deafening jeers of the crowd. Día would only shake her wrists a bit, as they had grown sore from such violent and continuous blows. They had grown a bit numb, all the way up to her digits, and that weird static-shock feeling in her hands was really starting to get on her nerves.

“God damn…He can just take a licking and keep on ticking. Guess that’s why he was such a big shot back in the day. My this must be very embarrassing for you, Darling…Seeing your Father in such a shameful state. I mean, it’s a blast for me! The only thing that might be entertaining…is hearing you scream! But…mother always said to finish your food before eating dessert!”

And said food was the groaning piece of flesh on the floor. God how he was annoying. Why on earth couldn’t he just stop breathing? Now that would be an entertaining twist in the script! The PDSM would certainly go down in infamy! Oh, she was sure Selina would agree…but their manager would probably put them in caskets as well. Decisions decisions.

Well, seeing as Wolf was still awake, there was still some work that needed to be done. She would attempt to collect Wolf from the floor. It wasn’t an easy task, but should she managed to drag the lug over to her corner, She and Selina would use the tag-in grace period to have some fun double-teaming Wolf in a far more violent affair.

“Selina…what say we have some quality time tearing your weird boyfriend of the hour apart?”

“Heheheheehehehee~! If you can even pick him up, moron!”