Teuila Matautia vs. Prayuth Sakda - Hammer and Tongs

Even reeling, she was like a cornered animal, striking out wildly at Prayuth in what may have been a clean opening with anyone else. Close, almost able to clip him with her wild swing, hungry to sink her teeth into him for payback for his cheeky opening gambit. He was fast, annoyingly so… so there was more to jump cuts and frame skips to his work in the film industry. This wasn’t the setting she wanted to find this out, preferring to leave that for the extra features in the bluray release.

Dropped to her knee, she was forced to surrender her offense, dropping her palms to the mat to catch herself from an embarrassing faceplant. She threw her head back, short brunette hair whipping from her face to lock eyes on her adversary as he bound towards her. With a hard push she straightened herself up, no time to actually rise, he was going to be on her far too fast. Her eyes quaked, taking in his movement and body language, trying for a hard read on what was coming next. It was a snap judgement he would be going for her head, the real question was how. He was inside now, closer than he needed to be for one of his kicks. Something flashy? An elbow? A knee?


The moment he stepped up on her braced knee she knew what this was, twisting her body to throw a shoulder forward. As his knee came up she had her arm up, elbow tucked to catch the blow before it built enough momentum in the pit on her arm, stopping it dead. She surged up to her feet, snapping her other arm out to wrap it around his leg supporting himself up to rip him off his purchase, taking a staggering step forward with him lifted in her arms. With a roar she threw his weight up and leaned hers forward, trying to brace her body against his to bring them both down to the canvas in a ring shaking spinebuster.

It had all been going so well, too.

Prayuth could tell that Teuilia was strong, anybody could see that, the woman was built like a six-foot tall Samoan tank. His instincts told him to be wary of the cannons she called arms and stay well out of her reach, but things were going well so far. It didn’t matter how strong she was - if she couldn’t touch him, it didn’t mean shit. He’d taken down bigger guys before. Nothing new.

Pray was feeling good. Good enough to get a little creative. Flex. Stunt on her. There was this big, wide opening, waiting to be exploited, ready to be seized, he moved in, planted his foot on her knee, and then…

She caught his knee.

She caught his knee.

Pray had all of a half-second to be shocked by that, before he was hoisted up like a small child, pulled against her, and spiked on the canvas, his back driven into it with earth-shattering force. ”Shit!” He croaked that word out on impact, with a few unintelligible muttering to follow, as he was given a firsthand demonstration about why that move was called a spinebuster. The pain shot all through his back, leaving him writhing beneath her. ”Shit. Shit.” He winced hard and hissed through his teeth. ”Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit.”

From standing to point of impact there had been no wasted movement. Their bodies hadn't even settled on the mat when her boots pushed up onto her toes, driving her weight selectively down on top of Prayuth from a slanted angle, using her weight to hold him down. She slipped over top of him, using her palms to help drag herself without giving him any space to move. Solid groundwork, pure positioning as she moved up his chest to where she wanted to be. She spread her legs, slamming her knees down to the mat and drawing in her tight muscular thighs to pinch the sides of her opponents midsection. Not squeezing, securing. Throwing her head back, she rose to straddle on top of him, breathing heavily as she glared down at him like a hornet with broken wings that had just stung her repeatedly. For just a moment, it looked as though she was going to say something, but when her taped hair shot up, the only talking she seemed to want to do was with her fist.

Lurching forward she leaned into tight, heavy swings, hooking her fists around to try and clobber him with one and then the other. With all the timing of a team of workers hammering in a railroad spike, she was getting the job done in her own way with some good old ground and pound. It would only last as long as the man beneath her failed to defend against it though. The moment he offered her some form of defensive shell with his arms, she would snap a hand out, trying to roughly part his attempts to keep her out. No longer would she try to hammer him with a knuckle, twisting back her whole body with a reared arm, she would drop her entire upper body forward with a meaty elbow to try and blow him apart, repeating the process. While most of the women in Tension were content to shove a man's face between their tits and giggle like idiots, Teiula was out here to show them she could batter anyone they put in the ring with her regardless of how much the movie star's face might be insured for.

Okay, she’d gotten him good with that one. Prayuth could admit that. Kind of hard to deny, really. Holy hell, this woman was strong.

But not a problem. He knew how wrestling matches worked, and they could be a lot slower paced than any kickboxing match. They were early in, and now was the point where Teuila would stand up, play to the crowd, get the chants going. Or maybe she’d go for a quick pin or a submission. He was in good enough shape to kick out and the ropes were close, no worry there. He just had to hold out, get back to his feet, and...then…

...fuck, she was going to ground and pound him.

He’d been in this situation enough times to recognize what her straddling his waist meant, but he was so surprised by it coming up in this match that it took him a moment to process. The realization sunk in soon, along with a stiff shot to his face, rocking his skull to the side. Another one came after that, and while it knocked the sense out of him, he still had his instinct. Up came the arms, defending his precious brain, but the Samoan slaughter didn’t stop there - Teuila grabbed his arm, pulled him out of his shell, and laid in with the elbows. Good ones, too. He might’ve admired the technique and power, if he wasn’t so busy getting his skull caved in.

Three of those were about he was willing to take. Prayuth was tough, tougher than most would expect, but there were only so many times he could take hits like this and stay in the waking world. He needed her off, fast, and to that end he planted his feet hard on the canvas and thrusted up with a hard bridge, twisted to the side as he rose in an attempt to hurl her off. Not the easiest thing, and it wouldn’t do much more than create space even if it did work, but he was fine with that at the moment.

There was a serious temptation to spit his witty little while back in his face when she cracked open his guard like a walnut. Laying into him full on with her elbow was the very definition of cathartic, but a deep dark out of anger wanted to rub salt in the wounds as she inflicted them. She fought that side of her back, that niggling ugly part that tempted her now with satisfaction but would end with regrets. She could gloat all she wanted after the fact, in private with her brothers over that phone call she owed them. Until then she should keep things as professional and she could and not let them degrade to a bunch of childish shit talking.

Wham!
Wham!
Wham!

She didn't slow, didn't wait to see if Prayuth had gone glassy eyed or not as her elbows rocked him. The referee was looking over them both keeping a close eye. If the movie star broke or submitted it was their job to care and call it, not Teuila's. In truth she half expected this was all but over. The moment she climbed on top of him, she had expected him to crumble pretty fast. To his credit, he weathered her blows well and when the time came was able to think clearly enough with his rattled brain to buck hard enough to interrupt her rhythm.

It had been fast and powerful when he suddenly snapped into a bridge, enough to catch her by surprise. While not especially tall, she was no stranger to the fact she was on the heavier side when it came to throwing her weight around in the ring. Had she been careless or was Prayuth actually that good? His attempt to throw was potent, sending her shoulder first into the canvas. Rather than fight the motion she leaned into it, scraping off the mat with her boots at the last moment to propel herself into the ring and turning the fumble into a shoulder roll that gave her distance as she popped up onto her knee. Peering back at the movie star with narrowed eyes, she rose to her feet and turned on her heel to face him in two very stiff motions making her feel more like a Terminator than a woman. Wordlessly she started trudging towards him, flexing her fingers hungrily to get her hands on him again.

Words could not express how glad Prayuth was to get Teuila off of him. He’d never been in MMA, but he was familiar enough with it to know that her ground game was up there, top notch, way more brutal and direct than you would’ve expected from a pro-wrestler. If he hadn’t managed to throw her off, there was real, strong chance that she would’ve knocked him right the fuck out. That was the last thing his reputation needed - pictures of him on his back, unconscious, his face pulped by a Hawaiin She-Hulk.

It was the last thing his face needed, too. As he sat up and rose, he did a quick check on his brow, swept his fingers along the area she’d hit, and sure enough, he got a sting and the sensation of something wet that damn sure wasn’t sweat. She’d busted his brow open - not a big cut, it wouldn’t need stitches, but enough that it would be easy to see in a few seconds. Just great.

”Fuck, you mad at me? I think you’re mad, at-”

He was on his way up, coming up slow, when he looked over his shoulders and saw Teuila coming his way in a death march. For one abstract, distant instant, he wondered if she had ever considered a career in movies - he knew a few directors who were on the lookout for someone her size and experience. Good presence, unique look, careers had been built on far less. The thought didn’t last long, however, as he had to focus on more important matters, like not his head ripped off his shoulders.

The sight of her advancing was enough to put some energy in his step, and he backstepped quick, getting away from her and putting up a tight guard. He was still woozy from the head banging, but he could move well enough to keep some distance. Enough to survive.

He hoped.

When her face bubbled over Teuila was a monstrous woman to behold. It was part of her she hated most, something her father had often lectured her about trying to control if she wished to be successful. Try as she might though, her buttons were easily pressed and once they were all bets were off. The crowd didn't seem to mind though. They thrilled at this no nonsense woman battering competition, her fans had even come to expect it from her. It was something she had still yet to come to grips with as far as it went with her career, but she was trying. She didn't want to be that person who ended careers or broke bodies, she just wanted to wrestle and earn her own way past the merits of her family name. Why did everyone have to test her and make it so difficult to keep a level head?

She met his words with a flat grim look, one that questioned his sanity without so much as uttering a word. He had done very little to win her favor. There was a reason it was ill advised to meet your heroes… or at least the people playing at being a hero in the movies. They had a way to turn out like this, the real Prayuth who seemed to lack the charm of written script and hamefisted love interests to carry his overbearing personality. Rather than let out a torrent of scathing words, she simply opted to let her emotions start to simmer and just not to the question in the affirmative. She hoped without an open dialogue, he would have less reason to talk and more reason to just fight.

Teuila had never been approached for a role in a movie before, though there had been a time where she considered a career in hollywood. Not front and center in front of the camera, but as a stunt woman. Action flicks were almost always on in her house, she practically drowned in the combined testosterone of her brothers almost always on display. Had it not been for her family expectations and her love of the sport, she might never have made it quite this far. Still, her fan could have provided plenty of examples of her on the television. Her runs in Ninja Warrior and strong woman competitions being the obvious go to for such a thing. The now notorious body slam competition and the thwarted mugging that blazed the news a close second. Most embarrassing her involvement in local commercials shilling for businesses back home where she appeared alongside her father when she was… eight or so? She tried to forget those days. While recent days offers had come in for commercials, she wasn't really up for throwing her face out there just yet, not until she accomplished something here in AFW.

Despite momentum burning down, she didn't seem in a terrible rush. She could see that even though they had traded blows, she had dealt his psyche a heavy blow as well. There was a lacking confidence now, a knowing caution. He had underestimated her from the start and now he was coming to understand just how dangerous she could be. To be fair, she hadn't respected his abilities as much as she should have at the start of the bout either and learned her lesson already. Perhaps there was some hope for humility here, an understanding of common ground the two could share in the spirit of competition… but she honestly just wanted to knock his head off still. Maybe her brothers would settle from a bit of his blood on a handkerchief in place of an autograph. If nothing else it would have her personal touch.

She shifted from side to side in small half steps on her slow approach, using the wide angle of their distance to make up spacing with a lazy ease to combat Prayuth's more nimble positioning. She wasn't going to outmaneuver him on even ground. The guy was like a mosquito buzzing about, but she tried to corral him, making him burn up precious energy to avoid her. One thing she wasn't looking forward to was closing the gap between those kicks of his… but like rolling off a bag said it was better to just get it over with. After a less than impressive game of cat and mouse, she suddenly shifted gear to bull charge her way in. Arms tucked into her body, head lowered for protection, looking to drive herself through any blows coming her way to shoulder check the movie star into the turnbuckles.

”Oooooo, look out, she’s coming for you!”

”Try and play dead, she might lose interest!”

”Pretty boy bit off way more than he can chew…”

Ugh. There it was, the last thing Prayuth needed: hecklers.

He could hear them coming through as he backpedaled away from the advancing Teuila, and while his Japanese wasn’t top notch, he could suss out enough to know this was the last thing he needed for his image. He’d already lost matches, sure, but getting outwrestled was one thing. Getting bullied around the ring, chased, hunted? That was the last thing he needed floating around the internet. He could already imagine the Twitter posts, the GIFs, the memes, the goddamn memes…his publicist was going to have her work cut out for him, win or lose.

No, fuck the ‘or’ part. He was winning this. Just wasn’t solid on the ‘how’, not just yet.

For whatever reason, Teuila didn’t give chase on him right away, gave him a couple of precious seconds to straighten up. Maybe being cautious, maybe to intimidate him - if it was the latter, it worked. He’d seen that kind of look before, but always on men, and men that he could handle. If there was any friendliness there, ever. It was gone - it was all about pounding him into the mat. . He had enough time to bring up his stance, at least. A little wobbly with it, but solid overall. What he really needed here was some kind of plan, a way to beat this woman back, but it was a little hard to focus when she was bearing down on him.

And, just like that, time was up.

She came in, low and fast, and while he normally would’ve been nimble enough to avoid it, the combination of their position and his hurting made that out of the question. She caught him with her shoulder and rammed him into the nearest corner, knocking the wind clean out of him. Painful? Fuck yeah. But it wasn’t all bad, because he rush had put her in range of his two deadliest weapons: His knees.

Instead of letting her rise up after the collision, he reached up and wrapped his arms around her head, keeping her in tight, close, pressed again. He planted his right foot on the floor and raised his left leg, shooting his knee towards her middle, targeting the ribs. Once, twice, thrice - as many times as he could get away with before she put a stop to it, he’d go for it, knowing he had a damage deficit to make up for.

Chiseled features and all the photos holling in the world couldn't stop Teuila from compacting her opponent up against the turnbuckles. She carried with her the force of a wrecking ball, something Prayuth was no doubt very well acquainted with by now. It was unexpected when he hooked an arm around her neck, grasping for anything he could. She had an answer for that one fully prepared in the way of a suplex he had just unwillingly made easier for her. The stiff knee to her body however did catch her off guard. Though the impact was muted with a dull smack, it shook the islanders ribs fiercely threatening to do far more damage than she would have expected. The second one came quick, but her muscles were already tensed and ready taking it far more gracefully than the first.

Tucking an arm down underneath her, she booked Prayuth's leg, clutching it close before he had a chance to draw it back for another knee. Two was more than enough she had decided. Taking a wide low stance, she hefted his weight with all her might. Teuila aimed to pull him slightly up out of the corner before thrusting herself forward, trying to take him into the turnbuckles again though with far less momentum than the last time. The initial plan still hadn't been lost, just altered. She would attempt to use the bounce back from the corner as a means to snap backwards, trying to bring the movie star up and over in a tight packed northern lights suplex.

An attempt to bridge the move into a pin though would prove fruitless as she arched her back only for midsection to give out on her, still too raw from the two big knees she had taken full on. Fine enough, she would abandon her intentions and move to sit herself back up with a strain, looking to find her footing again while her opponent recovered.

Prayuth would be lying if he said some part of all this wasn’t making him feel nostalgic. With all the glitz and glamour, his body had started to forget what it was like to get down and dirty - sure, he did all his stunts, put himself through the ringer, but that was nothing quite like the stress he took in a real fight. Aggression. Intensity. Drive. This was the sort of thing he’d been all about before he got in front of the cameras, when he was making his way through the ranks back in Thailand. Took him back.

That first knee was like a time machine, taking him back to the last time he’d truly hammered someone with it. Judging from the reaction, he hadn’t lost his raw power, could still deliver some serious impact. Even though the second one didn’t go as deep as he would’ve liked, they were taking a toll.

He could’ve hammered her like that all day, and he might’ve done just that if she hadn’t gotten smart and caught his leg. Prayuth braced himself as he was slammed against the turnbuckle once more - it sucked, but nowhere near as much as what happened next.

Teuila’s suplex sent him rolling towards the edge of the ring, ass-over-teakettle. He might’ve flopped right out of the ring, if not for the ropes stopping the trip short. Aching, he grabbed the middle one and began pulling himself, planting one foot on the canvas, then another. As much as it hurt, it was nice to see that his own attacks still had her hurting. ”What’s wrong, huh? A little soft in the middle?”