Krystyna Afineevsky vs. Moon Sin-Jae - Bait and Switch

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, or KO.

***

Sin was a woman of simple needs, really. She only wanted two things, at the base - sex and violence. They were her peanut butter and chocolate, something she didn’t need to have together, but enjoyed it so much more when they were. A perfect pairing.

But she was like a junkie. She needed her fix, and not just any high would do. She needed more. She wanted new thrills, wanted it faster, hotter, stronger, wilder. Wanted to try something fresh. New ways to fuck, new ways to break bodies, new ways to get out those delicious screams. That was why she loved the AFW so much, why she kept coming here even though there were more than enough underground arenas around the city and she had Zoey and Chloe on tap. The twisted minds in the AFW could always come up with some fun stuff. Always willing to scratch her itches, provided she found the right people and gave them the proper encouragement.

This time, it all worked out for her. Sin got exactly what she wanted, what she’d been demanding for a few weeks now - an oil match.


Sin showed up at the proper time and place, and was greeted with this beauty of a ring. She’d always been a fan of oil wrestling, loving the way bodies looked as they slipped and slid over each other, the heat, the passion, the shine all over the forms. It was the sort of thing that had warmed up more than a few of her colder nights, could get her in the mood no matter how cold she was, but she’d never gotten the chance to partake herself. N

Now, that was being rectified, and she had a hot pick to do it with, too. Krystyna Afineevsky. Blonde, Russian, huge tits, so she ticked off quite a few boxes off the gate. Word was that she was looking to get back in the game, and management had decided this was a good way to do it. She couldn’t disagree. A woman like that, body like that in oil? That was Sin’s idea of a perfect time.


She made her way into the AFW’s oil ring, stepping into it with her bare feet, one at a time. She took a moment to get used to that sensation. Warm. Slick. Sticking to her skin, worming through her toes. Felt good, just on her soles, working through her toes.

Ready for this. Hungry.

AFW's intercom system was often utilized for purposes pertaining to announcing match winners, new rules, and other such official declarations in the event of wrestlers needing their own privacy or if the usage of an official was unneeded for whatever reason. In today's case, it was in actuality for the safety and well-being of an official who could wind up being on the receiving of a competitor's wrath upon delivering some...potentially upsetting news. Now Sin would only have a square box on the wall to direct any justified ire towards. "Hello, yes...umm, we regret to you inform that Ms. Afineevsky will be unable to participate in today's matchup. For reasons pertaining to...uh, it says here on her note...classified covert ops at the behest of Mother Russia..." The feeble-voiced announcer scratched the side of his head with a brief pause taking up a few seconds before continuing onward. "We humbly apologize for all of this confusion, but not to worry though. We've actually secured a replacement opponent who's actually somewhat of expert in the field of oil matches...and oil in general, actually. Enjoy~..."

The blip of the intercom turning off would be upended by the abrupt thrusting open of both wooden doors leading into the oil-themed arena, an elongated shadow of a muscled individual creeping across the floor until it's originator waltzed inside with skin tanned brown and hair...unknown.

~Yusuf~:

"Ahhh~...Such a glorious day to indulge in the most time-honored of traditions, and with a grappling partner as equally enthused as I am, I see..." Yusuf merrily exclaimed at the preparedness of his adversary already appearing to get comfortable within the oiled up ring, lugging around a massive wooden barrel over his shoulder which he'd promptly slam down onto the floor beside him. "There is no need to use the federations subpar offering's, my dear. For I have generously brought more than enough of mine own high quality and supremely rich in texture oil for use in today's matchup~...Oh, but where are my manners? Apologies, hanımım. You are speaking with Yusuf Yazoğlu, titan of the oil trade in my beloved homeland of Turkey, and an expert in all matters oil~..." Yusuf pounded his mighty chest with a balled up fist during his introductions, chin held high and as welcoming a smile someone as intimidating, and awkward, as him can produce.

Sin was going to murder someone.

She’d never killed anyone before this, no, though she liked giving off the impression that she had. She’d fought in places where she likely could’ve gotten away with it, too. It wasn’t out of some care for human life or anything so pathetic - no, she didn't much care for that, if an opponent suffered an ‘unfortunate accident’ in her match, it wouldn’t have cost her a second of sleep. But straight up killing someone was just too messy, too risky, too problematic. It brought on complications that she cared little for, so it was a line she stayed away from.

Until now. Until today. Until someone - she didn’t know who, but someone - screwed her over. She wasn’t sure who she had to blame, but she would find whoever that was. One day.

For now, though, that was a small thought in her head. Most of her brain’s processing power was devoted to figuring out just what the fuck she was looking at. It was a man, a human male, she was about 90% sure of that, but everything else was just off the wall. Jacked like crazy. Red skin, like his entire body was just one big blush. That hair - blue hair. She’d seen blue hair before, sure, one out of every two girls in Friction had weird colors in their hair, hell, she dyed hers from time to time, but that? It was light blue, and it was all over, and he even put that shit on his beard. Who dyes a beard?

Her facial expressions ran the gamut - shock, surprise, confusion, repulsion, apprehension, before settling on her current favorite: rage. ”What the fuck? What the actual fuck?!” She shrieked towards the intercom and stepped forward, so taken off guard that she nearly slipped in the oil and needed a second to correct herself. ”You want me to wrestle that? Are you serious? Are you fucking high?”

The trepidation and awkwardly high-pitched inflection within the scolded employee's voice showcased his nervousness at addressing Sin, who somehow got him fearful of physical reprisal despite it being downright impossible given the nature and definition of an intercom system. He pulled the short straw among him and his fellow producers when it came to who would be delivering the bad news, for now answering all of her questions in as logical and professional a manner as he can muster. "W-We do profusely apologize for the mix-up Ms. Sin, but refusing to compete today will in fact be a breach of your contract, and leave you subject to a hefty fine and possible suspension. But do bear in mind that defeating such a heralded competitor as THE Yusuf Yazoğlu may put you in the running for a title belt, and management may see fit to allow you to choice your next competitor, win or lose...so uh...Good Luck~...phew, man she's a nasty-huh? Whaddya mean I gotta press the button to-"

*Hmm...what a curious young woman. A tad vulgar, but spirited~...She truly has a blazing fire in her belly...* Yusuf pondered with his hand propped beneath his chin, bottom lip puckered out and brow intensely furrowed as he continued his thorough assessment while she was barking up at the sky. She could stand to bulk up some given her lean physique, but he knew not everyone could attain the prolific and golden tanned muscles he possesses. Sin was a fiesty scrapper, through and through. Although he couldn't help but become bewildered by that ridiculous hairstyle of hers. Twin-tailed with rings around them as if she were some manner of bull creature...the degree of hair starch to make it stick out like that must cost her a fortune in hair starch alone!!! "Easy now, hanimim...those who are quick to temper are just as quick to defeat." Yusuf bellowed his pearl of wisdom merrily, lifting up his barrel overhead until oil began cascading down over his rippling physique before setting it down once more. "Come now, a simple one on one match is nothing to be afraid of, and it will be an educational opportunity of the glory and honor involved in a proper oil wrestling match, my friend~..." Patting and smearing his oil all over him, Yusuf smiled wholesomely while approaching mid-ring.

The talk about fines was enough to make Sin’s lip tighten up, for just the time being. She wasn’t bad on money, but she didn’t have enough scratch to take a hit like that without needing some handouts. Going to Chloe for extra was an option, she knew that the blonde would help her out if she asked - but fuck that. She’d gone through life without needing charity, and she was keeping that up for as long as she could.

”Fucking, stupid, bullshit, 젠장…” She let her words trail off to a muttering spree after the announcer was finished doing his damage control. She didn’t give a fuck about title shots, but the idea of picking any opponent she wanted did appeal. There was a nice laundry list of men and women she wanted to get her hands and feet on in this company. Natsuko Arisawa, Annette Weber, Aphrodite, those idiots in the speedos…

Fuck it. It’d just be a ten minute match. That was, what? 1% of her day? Something like that? She could work with that.

She looked with narrowed eyes as Yusuf went about oiling himself, giving all shiny and slicked out. Sin, for her part, had forgotten to bring her giant barrel of oil, so she had to make do with rubbing what she found in the ring over her body, getting nice and lathered up as she made her way to the mid-ring. ”’Proper oil match’. Right.” She gave her neck a good crack and started to bounce on her toe - or tried to, anyway. She managed two taps before the slippery substance got the better of her and left her stumbling, nearly falling flat on her ass.

”Fucking hell…” She straightened up fast and looked up at Yusuf, still trying to process what she was seeing as real. ”So you’re some kind of bigshot oil wrestling...champ? Is that even a real thing?”

All of that ill-tempered surliness and muttered profanities would stand in blaring contrast to the jovial sunshine emanating from across the room as the tanned oilman would merrily apply his precious oil to his massive physique. All while contentedly humming his favorite Turkish folk-song and reminiscing about the old country~...every application of his skin slickening grease always had him harkening back to tussling with opponent's in the grassy fields of his homeland. A time honored tradition and one of the oldest known sports in recorded history, and one that most people would know not to ask him about since Yosuf is a veritable scholar when it comes to his encyclopedic knowledge of oil wrestling...so you can imagine his beaming glee when Sin inadvertently asked him about his life's passion. Yosuf propping his balled fists on his waist with a brightened smile and puffing his chest out after drenching himself accordingly.

"Why of course it is young hanimim~... Why, did you know that the most important oil wrestling festival in all the world has taken place every year since 1346 in Edirne, Turkey? It is titled Kirkpinar and---“kispet,” or leather trousers, are what typically worn by---the champion of Turkey, known as Başpehlivan is a cherished---" What would seem like hours, but merely be a few minutes, would pass by as Yosuf ceaselessly discharged the excruciating details about his profession until he caught himself in mid-spiel with widened eyes. "Whoops, but I digress~...we can discuss this further at another time. Your exuberant enthusiasm towards learning more about my cherished grappling heritage is most appreciated, but the time has come for us to start the dance, no?~..." Yosuf cracked his neck from side to side and widened his stance by reaching his arms far out to the side, encroaching slowly but deliberately.

Sin had been promised a hot, sweaty oil match against a blonde with big, juicy tits. At the bare minimum, this would’ve resulted in her getting to roll around with that blonde for fifteen minutes, and at most she would’ve had a blast of a time, stretching her out, smothering her, squeezing her, wrenching screams from those honeyed lips.

Instead, she was going to have to wrestle with a big, sweaty Turkish nutball with hair what looked like some kind of sea creature stuck to his head.

What could’ve possibly made this day worse? What could’ve possibly pissed her off even more?

Being fucking mansplained, that was what. And worse than that, being mansplained on shit she couldn’t have given less of a shit about.

She was too busy gritting her teeth, trying to maintain her balance, to tell him to fuck right off, and she only managed to get right by the time he finished. The match was on, time to get moving.

She looked up and saw Yusuf closing in, nearing with those massive arms of his, covering way too much real estate. She knew how to deal with these types, though. Moving in, she ducked low and swung her leg out, looking to him with a sweep kick, taking him off at the ankles…

...that was the plan, at least. In practice, however, she wound up slipping on the oil, tumbling about, and crashing into his legs like a bowling ball, arms flailing all the way.

Ah, Yusuf could be a thoroughbred kukla sometimes. His wife has often chastised him for going off on such long-winded tangents like those, often times needing to sharply elbow him in his sides to interrupt his profusely intricate lecture on oil wrestling when their company had merely asked about the weather. He dutifully promised her to work on this monotonous and pontificating habit of his. But when someone so enthusiastically asked him about his culture's most treasured past-time, why the temptation was far too enticing!!! In spite of having to cut his monologue short, he immensely appreciated Sin's interest and started taking a liking to the perpetually scowling woman with the ridiculous hair-style. He only wished he'd taken her up on his offer to use his homemade oil instead of whatever low-cost brand this wrestling federation was using.

Regardless, Yusuf figured that showing young Sin firsthand the grappling wondrous of his profession would go a much farther way in educating her on the subject rather than merely jaw-jacking between them. He was indeed freshly oiled up and was overcome with his grappling spirit within as he attained a widened stance and centered his level of gravity, all approaches that Sin was curiously not adapting. He knew for a certainty that if she did not do the same, than she would assuredly-*Yah, there she goes...*-slip and fall. Comically so as a matter of fact and bowling right at his feet, bringing a wholesome smile to Yusuf's oddly proportioned face with his hands on his waist from how much of an adorable little scamp Sin was turning out to be. But one that The Golden Greased Lion would pounce down upon with his arms wide for a squish-squashing Oil Splash~...

So, yeah, this was not one of Sin’s proudest moments. In her defense, she hadn’t expected to do a whole lot of kicking today, thinking she’d be able to handle Krys with more seduction than anything. The idea had been to lay it on thick, get her nice and hot and bothered, then start squeezing her away in scissorholds.

It would've been fun, it would’ve been steamy, but it wasn’t going to work on this guy. She doubted she could even get her legs around his waist for a bodyscissor, let alone crush the guy, and she got the distinct impression that he wasn’t the sort to get worked up over slipping around with a hot body. Might not have even swung that way.

So she was stuck with Plan B. The problem being, of course, that she didn’t know what Plan B was.

This was no time to think it up, either, as she found herself flat on the floor, trying to keep her sense of things. Hating life in general, she was about to push her way up, when she noticed the world suddenly turn much darker.

”Ohfuck-”

Yusuf came down on Sin like a big, redskinned avalanche, hammering her into the mat and sending oil flying in every direction. With all that weight on top of her, all she could do was make a mad scramble, trying to squeeze her way out before he did...whatever he was about to do. Something she wouldn’t like, damn sure on that.

Sin's earlier unbalanced stance and reckless approach were all certified rookie mistakes if Yusuf had ever seen one. Patience is invaluable when one engages in oil matches that in his beloved home country could take up to an hour before a winner is decided. Still, inexperienced though Sin was in the ancient martial art that Yusuf took an infinite amount of pride in, he could absolutely respect Sin's eagerness and tenacity towards getting down to the nitty gritty, so to speak. Therefore, Yusuf responded in kind by not hesitating to come splashing down upon her with pure oil-slathered strength.

"Far too eager, Hanimim~...Whatsay you and I go for a spin, yes?" Yosuf merrily bellowed to the thrashing Korean beneath him before squirming both of his brawny arms around her from behind, afterwards proceeding to start twirling and barreling them both around their encircled mat. Oil splashing all around them and obviously adding to their accelerated velocity to a nigh cartoonish degree until Yusuf would settle to splotched a slam down upon her. Arising off of her and onto his knees to the sides besides the now oil slicked Sin, her pale skin glistening with a shimmer from now being well and truly oiled-up~...