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

In pain. Flat on her chest. Buried underneath a mass of red muscle.

Sin was kind of hating life right now.

In the back of her head, she was thinking about all the things she could’ve been doing at the moment. Things like, say, having sex with Chloe. Hitting the gym, doing some squats, going for a sprint on the treadmill. A walk in the park? Sure, that was fun every now and then. This, though? This was so far and away removed from her idea of pleasure.

But she was going to win. She was going to take this red-and-blue pain in her ass down and win and get the hottest, sexiest match of her life, so help her fucking god.

She just wasn’t sure how, yet. And she wouldn't’ have any real time to figure out until she got this hulk off her, until she got on her feet, and until she figured out how to maneuver in this shit. Yusuf didn’t seem at all keen on giving her the chance, either, as he took hold of her and put her in a wild spin cycle, flipping her over and over, rolling her about, leaving to flop here and there and here again, tossed about like a fish, helpless and aloof.

”Get the fuck-” She sqauwked, struggling to even get out a single sentence. ”Get off! Fucking...ah!”

Gazing in befuddlement for the first time, wrestlers would never guess that the hulking mass of tanned Turkish muscles before them was deceptively swift for someone his size. Especially when the oil tycoon is all greased up and raring for action alongside his able-bodied competition, and even moreso when that adversary is a comparable lightweight when compared to himself and the floor is as oil-slickened as the both of them are. All of these factors and perhaps more leading to a cartoonishly accelerated fit of spiraling rotation all around the bathing arena that had them bounding off of the walls and seemed to have no end in sight.

Disorientation always served a capable oil wrestler well when tussling around on the dirt with a man of substantial weight and muscled girth, and Yusuf believed the same to be applicable to the scowling beauty beneath him who apparently still is capable of snarling out obscenities at least. The Gentlemanly Oil Baron taking care not to "cop a feel" in all of the spinning of course, although knowing that irksome line may be broached eventually. For now though, he'd acquiesce to Sin's spastic request by abruptly coming to a stop on his back with the Sin laying atop him and gazing up at the ceiling before a pelvic thrust and shove would have her splatting off and to the sides. "HutTutTut...It seems you have much to learn if you hope to succeed in this profession, Hanimim~..." Yusuf advised after rising up to one knee beside her.

What the fuck was going on?

Sin had a good sense for combat, had a way of feeling the battlefield and seeing sense in the middle of chaos, but it was all failing her, here. She knew wrestling in oil could be a crazy experience - hell, that was most of the fun. But that was with two people who were on the same level. Yusuf moved through the stuff like he was at home with it, like he was used to being in it all the time and had complete control of every bit of his frame. She had to imagine it would’ve been impressive, too, a really amazing sight to see, if she wasn’t on the receiving end.

”Fuuuuuuuck.” She let out a long groan as he released her, letting her flopping off over to her chest. She took a few seconds to refill her lungs and just...think. Tempting as it was to just turn tail and fuck all of this, she knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel, still remembered the promise she’d gotten at the start of all this. She had to hold on, wait for her opportunity, and then…

Oh, that would do.

With Yusuf kneeling nearby, Sin decided to make her move. She propped up on her hand and knees, swung around, and whipped her leg about in a wild arc, trying to hit in the face with a quick as she moved. It was a sloppy move and it’d probably wind up in her taking another spill, but if the end result had him getting dropped? Yeah, she was okay with it.

Yusuf's expertise in this matter did indeed harken back to when he was merely a scrawny Turkish youth still learning the basics of his grappling profession and competing in the junior league division of oil wrestling. Being brought up within a family who cherished the tradition like few other families meant becoming accustomed to grease slathered maneuverings at an early age. Even after having achieved his muscled mass, Yusuf was still capable of greased gliding and slicked slides that made him deceptively nimble for a Turk of his stature, which explains how he was capable of performing such a discombobulating spin cycle like greased lightning...

But even the turkish Oil Tycoon needed to relent eventually. Yusuf mercifully shutting down the roller-coaster to prevent himself from potentially suffering dizzy spells, but in part to allow his pointy-haired compatriot time to recoup and collect herself out of the kindness of his heart knowing that Sin was not as adept at this form of grappling as he himself was. Yusuf propped upon his knees with arms folded and allowing Sin to do just that when her wildly arcing kick aimed for his head ended up missing him completely and swiffed right in front of his face...but in the process several drops of oil splattered him in the eyes and briefly blinded him as he started rubbing and tended to his eyes immediately with some colorful language in his native tongue.

Fuck, fuck, fuck she missed! That would’ve sucked enough in a normal situation, and embarrassing whif, but here it had worse consequences than just making her look dumb. The momentum for her blow made her tumble, had her rolling on the mat head over heels, and ugly path that left her flopping over to her chest, with Yusuf behind her. She knew damn well just how bad of a position that was, and realized her only prayer here was to get up and move away and hope that he...couldn’t…

Huh. The guy had oil in his eyes.

For one thing, that was funny. For another thing, this was a golden opportunity, and the first one that came her way all match. It was one that she couldn’t squander, either, so she brought in a scrambling sloppy dash forward, closed in on him fast, and did the first move that came to mind - she brought her legs up and shot them out fast, trying to hit him in his big-ass chest with a dropkick. It was far from the best one in history, but it’d have to do, given the circumstances.

Typically Yosuf would seek to embolden the type of rapacious and ravenous yearning for combat that Sin has so cravenly exhibited this very day, and in doing so help to tame that bestial tendency towards a more centered focus on proper positioning when it comes to oil wrestling. Yosuf having trained many a brash and energetic young pupil who needed to have their bad grappling habits curtailed while acquiring skills that help them with any rambunctious temperaments or savage inclination.

Except that Sin was proving herself to be quite the irksome novice indeed. Evident from her lashing out at the brawny Turk after he'd opted to give her a few seconds to compose herself with a sweeping kick that missed the mark but managed to sprinkle globs of high quality oil right in Yosuf's eyes. The Oil Tycoon taking time to regain his eyesight through fastidious eye wiping, but was nevertheless blinded long enough to get stamped right in his broad pectorals by a leaping dropkick that leveled the Turkish giant down to his back with a hardy oomph. Afterwards sluggishly he'd roll over into his front for the first step towards attempting to rising up to his hands and knees.

Sin managed to knock Yosuf down. That might not have seemed like a big deal, it was kind of a give in a match, but she saw it as something more. He was a big dude, after all, she was pretty much anything but a big dude, and he was damn sure better in this oil than she was. It was the closest thing to a strong opening she’d had since this match began, and she had doubts anything like it would be coming her way again.

So now what? She had a process to these things. When she got her opponent down, she either fucked them or fucked them up - kick them in the head, stomp their stomach, maybe work the pants off and show them what her toes could do. That sort of thing.

With Yosuf? Nope. She wasn’t in the mood for lewd, and she wasn’t even going to try something like an axe kick in this stuff. She needed something she knew would work.

Like, say, choking? Choking a bitch out. Worthy a try.

She came down from the dropkick and scrambled to her feet, kicking up oil in every direction as she moved in a rush, practically running on all fours to close the distance. She leaped when she was close enough, pounced, and came crashing down his back. Her legs wrapped around his waist...okay, she tried to wrap her legs around his waist, but the fucker was too big for that. Her arms could get around his neck, though, and locked them in tight with a sleeperhold, wrenching his neck from side to side as she powered down.

In spite of his stacked physique or career's worth of matches wrestling down and enduring ferocious strikes from fellow oil-shined grapplers, Yosuf was nevertheless impressed by the explosive dynamite behind Sin's dropkick. The hidden strength in her legs was nothing to scoff at, it seemed. No wonder the rapacious little she-devil consistently attempted to thrash out at him with all manner of swinging kicks and sweeping punts whenever she had the opportunity. He'd daresay that he'd be in quite the pickle if she ever connected cleanly against that robust jawline of his. Not to say he wasn't currently in a bit of a predicament already what with only having just now regained his vision after being knocked off of his feet to an oil smacked twack upon his broad back.

"Oof...well, no one can say you're lacking the strength to match that blazing fire in your belly." Yosuf complimented in between his lurching attempts to arise upward while crinking and cracking his neck side to side with a hand on the back of his head, although it was swiftly stalled by Sin never ceasing to take advantage of any and all opportunities. The Oil Tycoon hacking a chortled breathe from the wretched in sleeperhold and subsequent torquing twists from side to side with her grease-slathered breasts mushed against his broad back. Although it was the sensation of her legs struggling to wrap around his waist that give him an idea. One that entailed Yosuf to begin steadily soldiering up to his sturdy legs, where he'd slip his head free thanks to their oiled up conditions by pushing up on Sin's arms. Afterward sliding Sin over his shoulder and across his bare chest for an attempted side-walk oil splashing slam.

Many people would’ve been humbled by Yosuf’s comment. To hear such praise from a fellow martial artist wasn’t a common occurrence, especially from one with such a storied - if unorthodox - background. It was the kind of recognition that most fighters craved. An admission of pure skill, the result of countless hours spent training and bottomless dedication.

Sin, however, was less than gracious. [”Shutthefuckupandgotosleep!”

She didn’t care much for that kind of flattery in normal circumstances, but coming from a guy like this blubbery blueberry? No, fuck that. All she wanted was for him to go the fuck to sleep, and she was perfectly content choking him out until that happened. Maybe for a minute or so after, too, just to be on the safe side.

He had other ideas, though. His ideas involved pushing up and struggling, making her hold on his neck far, far harder than it had been a second ago, more than she could maintain. He slipped free from her grasp, but that was only the start of the problems - they were made that much worse when he jerked forward, whipped her through the air, and brought her crashing to the mat, creating an eruption of oil on impact and hammering her spine.

Sin cried out from under his bulk and went into a thrashing fit. It was all she could do to feebly push him off and try to slip away, hoping to make some space, any at all, to recover.

Unbeknownst to the perpetually seething Sin, Yusuf was actually somewhat of a fashion magnate in his beloved homeland. The Oil Baron having revolutionized hair-styling itself when it came to his circular helmet hair/mustache combination with baffled fashionistas wondering how he concocted such a bold, daring, and practically impossible to replicate hairdo. Therefore, Yusuf was considering offering Sin a suggestion when it came to her arachnid inspired apparel, and that was perhaps adopting more of cat-themed motif to perhaps match her scrappy and claws out fighting style. One that Yusuf came to respect with time as he had to demonstrate his own level of aggressive overpowering to circumvent her scathing pugnaciousness in one oil slicked splash on the mat.

"...*pant*...Phew, that was quite the close one, Hanimim. Seems as though it's safe to say you've taken my breathe away with such a competitive performance~..." Yusuf merrily joked while rotating his neck all around to get the creaks out while breathing free air again, but knowing better than to let lighthearted banter distract himself from capitalizing on a downed and skilled opponent. The retreating Sin would soon find herself swooped down upon by the greased lion, whose muscled mass would weigh down on her from the sides with one arm sliding over her shoulder and his other hand taking an indecent grip upon her spider-webbed bikini backside. The foreign intrusion of his thumb betwixt her oil-shined cheeks being the scandalous grip taken before attempting an alley-ooping heaving up and splash down.