Anya Volkova vs Dmitri Markov - From Russia without love

Fair play was just something not to be expected from Anya. If the Russian had something at hand she could use to improve her chance of winning she was just going to take it and use it on her advantage. And the Blonde Wolf found so amazing how gullible and easy to fook Dmitri was proving to be. It was either as if the man had never faced a real rival before or that he had faced them but learnt nothing from the experience. Of course the man had shown some resilience when he managed to throw Anya off him, but for the time being every ruse Anya had thought had worked.

That was how the Russian went with a blunt butthead to Dmitri’s forehead. It wasn’t the best of her plans ever, and Anya paid some price in the form of some pain for herself, but in the end it worked out pretty well as her rival broke the locked test of strength. When she saw Dmitri reeling and staggered at the impact she knew it was her time to act. Her moves weren’t the most orthodox ones but they bore fruit, so the Wolf never thought of changing her moveset. With a sudden leg sweep she tripped Dmitri to get him on the mat once more.

“You need some discipline, boy. If I get you on the ground you. Stay. On. The. Ground!” Anya would use every pause in her intimidating speech to get a stomp on her downed rival, in a maneuver that would surely soften him and make him think twice before she would cross her again.

Dmitri wasn’t the toughest man in Tension, but he wasn't exactly made of cardboard, either. He could take a good hit, and if he had enough time, just a couple of more seconds, he would be able to recover from a hit like this and get back on a good foot for the match.

It seemed like Anya realized that, too, because she was not of a mind to let him have that precious time.

Dmitri squawked as a swift kick hit his legs, a well-done sweep that was more than sufficient to drop him flat on his back and knock the wind out of him. Even with that, however, he was on the verge of rising up again, would’ve been able to if not for the stomp. Several brutal, rapid stomps. The first two crashed hard into his stomach, and while he managed to curl up for the ones that came after, they weren’t much more pleasant.

He was hurting. He was aching. He was losing. It was far too early in the match for any of that, which meant it might be a good idea to make a retreat, and that was exactly what he did. Dmitri broke into a roll, trying to make his way out of the ropes and to the floor, hoping he could get a quick reprieve at ringside.

Anya was used to that point to having wimps as rivals, wannabes lookin tough but breaking at the first taste of her punishing. That was the reason she found herself surprised when Dmitri wouldn’t take her stomping that happily. The man curled in a ball and all while receiving the beating, but something in his face and his movements showed some spirit burning inside him, some willpower preventing him from submitting to the Russian’s desires. And Anya didn’t like being denied at all.

Just when Anya was planning what to do next, her rival cowered and rolled away, making his way below the ropes and fleeing to the ringside. Anya opened her arms boasting while the crowd booed at her. “What is this, some kind of joke?” Having her rivals running away from her wasn’t disappointing but insulting. Now she wanted to give that man a lesson, and in order to do that the Wolf would run and slip below the lowest rope in pursue of her rival, not wanting to give him any kind of window to recover, she would keep the pressure going while trying to get a hold at Dmitri.

The crowd didn’t seem any more thrilled for Dmitri’s retreat than Anya did, giving him a fresh batch of boos the second he touched down. No, it wasn’t exactly the most glamorous moment of his Tension career - though, now that he thought about it, it wasn’t like there was strong competition in that category. Regardless, it was needed - he had to put a little space between him and Anya, just to recoup and gather himself.

And she seemed to know that, too, because she was bent on not giving him that coveted space. He hadn’t been on the floor long before he heard a commotion coming from behind him and, sure enough, he looked over his shoulder and saw her heading his way, looking all kinds of ticked off.

Well, if this was how it had to be…

Steeling himself, Dmitri turned to face her, knowing it was his only real choice. When she was close enough, he went on the attack, moving in and shooting his leg out for a sidekick, one aimed right at her midsection to fold her in half.

Anya loved being seen as this cunning, fierce force to be reckoned, as someone with ice cold gaze and a short fuse, to inspire in her rivals genuine fear in case they could spur her anger. In fact, that was the Russian’s hope since her fighting skills weren’t actually that good. She was an average fighter but not the best there is, and if a rival managed to see through her looks and façade she could get in real trouble. That was the reason she used to rouse the crowd and make her rival’s unsettled. For Anya all this was a battle that started in the realm of the mind.

And it looked like that strategy was serving the Wolf well. Her rival looked somehow scared despite his size and strength, cowering outside of the ring as Anya boasted. But that wouldn’t be for much longer as Dmitri decided not only to come back to the ring but to show why is he a powerful tae kwon do fighter with a sudden kick to her side than made all air in Anya’s lungs escape her and bend her body, her hands around her pained midsection, open for anything the man could devise.

Dmitri was surprised when the kick wound up working. In retrospect, he really shouldn’t have been. He’d been launching kicks like that for years, hit it dozens of times, scored with it constantly at his Tae Kwon Do tourneys and taken down opponents far bigger than Anya. It was some miracle, it wasn’t a fluke. There were things he could do well and kicking was one of them.

He returned to his ready position as Anya reeled from the blow and pushed past his hesitation, knowing this was a golden window he couldn’t afford to pass up.

Moving in, he closed the gap by spinning, moving around in a full rotation as he neared her, picking up speed and momentum in the twist. At the end of it, he lashed out, swinging his leg wide to catch her in the face with a hurricane kick - a risky move, yes, but damaging if he managed to land it, and he couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity.

It looked like Dmitri was growing more and more confident by the second. It was an obvious outcome to the realization that Anya could be frightening and cold, but she wasn’t as skillful as a lifelong trained tae-kwon-do fighter. As he managed to get more of his skillful kicks hitting the Russian woman the man would be able to reassure himself and realize the obvious: in terms of physical strength and fighting prowess he had a better chance to win.

And it looked like Dmitri was willing to use this newfound self-confidence to execute bolder and stronger moves. He decided to start by spinning around to throw a hurricane kick that was just too fast for the eye. Anya got hit in the side of her face and immediately sent on her stomach as her hands cupped her face in search for any damage beyond her hurt pride. But the Wolf wouldn’t throw the towel that easily. She wouldn’t be denied. Instead, Anya would writhe on the mat trying to look weak and dazed, provoking a reaction out of Dmitri. If the man got close enough for her to spring her trat she would go for a nasty crotch claw aimed to hurt Dmitri as much as she could.

Dmitri wasn’t stupid. Despite the opinions of AFW message boards, he was a reasonably intelligent man, with a wealth of experience inside the ring and out of it. He could learn from experiences. He could adapt. He tried to keep himself in a clear mindset, didn’t want to leave himself open to tricks, especially with such a wily foe.

So, as he moved towards Anya, he was aware that, maybe, things were not all what they seemed. He was going for the pin, but he was on the lookout for anything she might do, any little trick she might pull.

Except grabbing his crotch. That one took him by surprise.

Dmitri squawked as her claws dug deep into groin, clamping on tight and squeezing. The referee moved in to chastise Anya and separate them, but the damage had already been done. He flopped to his side and rolled about, grabbing his aching package and kicking his legs around, hissing at the pain. ”Damn it, damn it-”

Anya wasn’t the best of wrestlers, but she understood to some extent the human psyche, how it worked and how to get advantage of that knowledge when dealing with power exchanges. Thanks to all that learning she knew that the moment one was the most fragile was exactly when that person was feeling the most confident, and oh she was going to make use of that. Dmitri looked now a little more relaxed and reassured, feeling confident now that he had managed to hit Anya with a couple of powerful kicks.

That was exactly the reason why the man wouldn’t be expecting the Russian to come at him with one of the dirtiest, nastiest moves one could execute in pro wrestling. Anya squeezed the man’s crotch for as long as she could before Dmitri could squirm out of the hold with some help from the referee. “What! It was a chance grab! Stop pestering!” She tried to scoff the ref while focusing her attention back on Dmitri who was agonizing on the mat, just as she intended. She wanted her rival in pain and weakened so she could do whatever she pleased, and she was just about to add some more pain to the mix. Stomping on him once to render him immobile, Anya would reach for his legs so she would lock a figure four leglock while laughing cruelly.

Dmitri was kind of hating life right now.

It wasn’t because of his aching balls - not just because of that. That was certainly a huge part of it, yes, but it had more to do with the situation as a whole. He’d come into this match with the right mindset, or so he thought. Be bold, be aggressive, be respectful, and he’d hoped it would get him different results. That was turning out to not be the case, as he found himself in an achingly familiar position. On his back, hurting, while a woman attempted to put him in a punishing hold.

Some things just never changed.

Anya’s choice, as it so happened, was the figure-four, a move he’d been on the receiving end of before. He couldn’t say he liked it any more now than he did back then, either - maybe ever less so now, thanks to her crazed laughing. Crying out, squirming, he did his best to ignore all that and focus on his escape, trying to pull away and drag them both towards the ropes.