Re: It's No Cakewalk

by BritBrat Sat Sep 18, 2021 7:04 am

Among the many things that Pierre was thinking of, aside from escaping, were thoughts of annoyance and anger. For most people who have not stepped into the world of grappling arts, or just people never getting into a fight, the sudden realization of being choked out and starved of oxygen would bring about panic, which is a surefire way to tire yourself out. It’s not an experience that they’re used to, which is understandable. But for someone liken Pierre, it’s a feeling he’s all acquainted to. Be it by someone’s hands, legs, other limbs, his own collar, and heck, even a belt (that last one requires a bit of backstory for anyone to understand), there’s a myriad of ways to take someone’s breath away in the literal sense. Those who have trained for the longest time like the Cannck did would find chokeholds easier to deal with than holds requiring hyperextension and putting limbs in places and pressure than average. Unlike those holds, chokeholds still give time before one’s body shuts down. That’s not to say that locking someone in an armbar or a kimura (double wristlock for the wrestling purists) is a surefire way to get a tap out. For example, the brutal nature of martial arts, even MMA, has people pushing their bodies past their limits, never backing down, and never willing to surrender. Hence how you would see someone trapped and surprisingly managing to escape when everyone thought their defeat was a foregone conclusion. One could argue that such behavior is admirable, necessary, and worthwhile on the sport’s grandest stages. At the highest level of any physically taxing sport, sacrifices must be made. However, this attitude trickles down to the lower levels, which is exceedingly dangerous for younger and less experienced fighters, making such culture toxic.

The first MMA bout that he saw was utterly one-sided of a mismatch. One couldn’t compete with the other in any area of MMA. As the bout dragged on, the repeated leg kicks were started to take their toll. The man was reduced to hobbling, and he had little chance of victory when the “championship rounds” started. The media knew it, the referee knew it, the man’s corner likely knew it as well. Nevertheless, the fight went the complete five rounds. It shouldn’t have made it this far, but such behavior is anathema to MMA culture. Valued a glamorized Spartan ethos that never considers the consequences of its “come back with your shield – or one it,” mantra. Fans, fighters, coaches, and everyone in between agree almost unanimously that getting knocked out is better than quitting on your stool between rounds and that (s)napping is better than tapping. It’s better to let a fighter “go out on their shield” than stop a fight too early, robbing the winner of undisputed victory and the loser of honor in defeat.

Such thinking has even permeated Pierre also. The many times he lost because of knockout, most notably in PPV, is proof of that. Having to deal with a sudden gogoplata isn’t so much the issue in this case. It’s the idea of another person not being as upfront as they ought to. Which has happened constantly during his stay in Japan. From the botched Olympic tryout to Tension’s biggest (and only) Pay-Per-View, it had opened his eyes about an industry dominated by artifice. "Pourtant tu supportes la tromperie..." Sure, in the business world, one would have to prepare for cozenage and disguise; it can be a dirty game that they play. Though in this case, he’s not a happy bunny of seemingly being deceived. Especially with someone whose a future employer. One hand gripped at Gwen’s foot near his neck while the other made its way down to the waist of the haughty heiress. "Merde... je ne peux pas..." Despite the attempt made that failed, the French-Canadian made another attempt, this time working slowly just to get a good enough base. One foot would be plastered onto the frosted flooring, his heel digging deep into the pastry that he felt the canvas underneath the layering. All the while, his fingers unconsciously, almost imperceptibly rubbing in circles on the exposed ball of her foot. He didn’t speak much, partly because it would be a waste of time, but knowing Gwendolyn’s knowledge of French meant he couldn’t really hide anything from her. Still, he slowly worked to get the plan set in motion with whatever breath he still had in his body. His other hand pushed on the waist, seeking to peel her body off to the side, which was a crucial task even before she hunched over to let her stomach press upon his face. The Quebecoise felt the heat from his own breath and smelled the lovely scent coming from Gwen. The body heat emitting from her own body brings forth that scent, even more, giving an almost hypnotizing effect that could be enough to pacify many men. "Get...off...!!" All except Pierre, who would bring the other leg up before planting it down to bring his hips up for another bridge. The best-case scenario is him rolling off the snooty socialite and making his way on top of Gwen. The worst case is he slips again and remains underneath the dominating weight of the British aristocrat.

by **killcarrion** Tue Oct 05, 2021 12:31 am

In spite of how patently obvious it may appear to the unsophisticated eye, Gwendolyn considers herself wholeheartedly innocent of any alleged acts of subterfuge on her part. Not since first greeting the head shaven Quebecois at her doorstep earlier in the night had she imparted any information that could be considered untruthful. Even during the parts of her greeting and conversation that consisted of her prattling on about her family vacations without knowing Pierre had long since abandoned his potential employer for rudely flirting with the maids. Never once did she explicitly detail a complete lack of foreknowledge in BJJ. That was merely his own assumption to make when she clearly would have corrected him had he done his due diligence and asked her when he had the chance. So the blame of misunderstanding could just as easily be levied upon Pierre's shoulders just as easily as it could be weighed down upon Gwendolyn's, in the heiress' snobbish mind anyway. Of course, there are those who would consider a lie by omission as a lie all the same, but Gwen was never one to quibble over minute details or point accusatory fingers. Why should see when nothing meaningful would come of living in the past know that they've already moved well past that point? The forward thinking aristocrat believing that enlightened and enterprising quality of hers to simply be one of her numerous positive attributes. Qualities about her that Pierre would eventually become acutely aware of over time should he secure the position he'd come to apply for this night.

One such quality being her exceptional adherence to what those aforementioned instructors taught in regards to how best to apply those specific chokeholds, including the one that Pierre was experiencing firsthand himself. She was fancifully curious enough to wonder what the Canuck would grade her applied submission, seeing as how it will be his specific responsibility to further Gwen's MMA grappling tutelage and expand her knowledge of takedowns, chokeholds, submissions and the like. Amidst all of his uncivilized swearing and accusations of deception, the least he could do was perhaps levy some constructive criticism or helpful building blocks for her to build upon. Twas most unbecoming of an instructor to refrain from imparting such educational judgment, although in retrospect, perhaps his complete lack of breathing capacity is about as resoundingly positive a critique Gwendolyn could ask for. However, as benevolently fair and diplomatic that she is, the snobbish socialite would contemplate allowing Pierre another round to demonstrate his grappling skills seeing as how he may have taken by surprise from the heiress' nimble monkey flip and mounted gogoplata. She would rather earn her win decisively than with the storm cloud of accusatory deception darkening her achievement. Such was the glorious generosity she was fit to bestow~...but only after Pierre opts to wisely submit and save himself the humbling embarrassment of passing out in a most uncompromising position.

"Hut-tut-tut. Have you never heard of maintaining grace under pressure? Keeping a cool head, and such. Although I may be a humble amateur when compared to a veritable expert such as yourself, isn't it considered a wise tactic to admit when you're beaten and submit rather than risk injury~...Some gentle taps on my thigh and you'll be free to breathe all you wish." Gwendolyn melodically imparted in a sing-song tone of voice, a direct contradiction to the applied pressure upon his throat taking his breathe away with every passing second. The pompous blueblood feeling those specific breathes wafted against her midsection once he could practically graze his lips against her taut abdomen, which she would not exactly be averse to should he become so delirious from her illustrious beauty and the lack of oxygen that he begins to rightfully begin properly worshiping her. The studly Canuck proved more tenacious than expected however as he began making concerted efforts and considerable headway in dislodging her with tugging yanks on her waist and scrounging legwork on his part. "Ohhh, very well. Way to spoil a lady's fun~..." A reluctant comment made before the heiress would shimmy to the side and off of Pierre's throat, but with the downtrodden grappler still within her leggy grasp as she swiftly stuffed his shaven head betwixt her heavenly thighs in mid-transition with her ankles crossed behind him. A seated and strained triangle choke applied that at the very least allowed him to breathe once again...to an extent.

by BritBrat Thu Nov 04, 2021 3:30 pm

Years of mistrust has clouded Pierre's mind in more ways than one. In hindsight, it could be seen as a overreaction from the Cannuk by jumping into conclusions. The French-Canadian liked to believe that he could detect foul play afoot, knowing when someone is trying to decieve him to gain an advantage. Too many times has Pierre's chances be crushed because of untrustworthy individuals, even down to his chances at the Olympic stage. In some cases, it could be justified, yet his instincts have led Pierre to make bad decisions to worsen a situation. Pointing the accusatory finger at everyone just made things worse for him. And if everyone was an enemy then enemies is all that the deluded Quebecois will see. Especially his would be employer.

The haughy heiress might not have intended any foul play, especially as she's on the hunt to find a tutor to further expand her arsenal. Gwendolyn isn't to be expected to walk on eggshells when handling Pierre, neither would she care about his deteriorating mental state. Although this would have been the chance for Pierre to show that he could assess and break down every move Gwen makes, he's now treating the whole thing as a match to win. A victory over his future employer might not exactly garner favour in the chance of securing a role, but he didn't want Gwen to think she could easily walk over him. Far from it. There were a lot of things Pierre had to balance, juggling so many stuff in his hands that one was bound to fall and break. Pierre bucked the snooty socialite off himself, using Gwen's amateurish base against her. Although a mounted gogoplata was solid, a guy like Pierre was still capable of powering out of holds like these. Which is something Gwendolyn should consider when choosing the right tools. Pierre should expect that Gwendolyn knew that could happen, not just in the realm of martial arts, but even in wrestling. Stronger, bigger women can use their size to break free, which makes grappling a human chess match. Making sure to place each limb at the right place to secure victory.

The French-Canadian moved over, seeking to push his advantage now that the proverbial tables have turned. However, he's constantly reminded of the substance that he's wrestling in, the veritable judoka maybe free, but not out of the woods yet. Which is just the case when the Cannuk notices her legs were still nearby and they quickly went to action. Pierre has been in plenty of Sankakus in his lifetime, and although they only work as a pin in Judo, the Quebecois still knew how strong a good squeeze can be. Instead of one leg just placed to cut off his breathing, Pierre felt the full force of Gwendolyn's scissors. She may not held the title of "Queen of Scissors", but the ballet-trained limbs were no joke in delivering the kind of power to knock out even the biggest foe. Still face down, Pierre coughed and grunted. His face straining from the squeeze, not wishing to buckle just yet. Thing about fighters like him is that they try to push on for escape, even in situations like these. Powerful as they are, the Quebecois wasn't ready to admit defeat just yet. His hands gripped on the powerful gams, Pierre's legs scrambling along the cake filled ring to find purchase. Just like the modified gogoplata, escaping isn't going to be the most easiest job he'd have to do.

by **killcarrion** Sun Nov 07, 2021 1:54 am

Tallied points continued to be added or subtracted in Gwendolyn's head in regards to Pierre's performance evaluation this night, unbeknownst to him a process that began the second he stepped foot within her palatial abode and continued onward to this very moment. For now the heiress opted to keep the official score count to herself until the end of their cake slathered scrambling, although she will attest that some deductions may be in place for the rather ironic juxtaposition of their reversed respective positions. Figuratively, and perhaps quite literally. Gwendolyn finding herself to be the one doling out pearls of grappling wisdom towards her struggling adversary when Monsieur Pierre should be the individual subduing his dainty aggressor given he's auditioning for a coaching position. She did find it rather curious how her admittedly rudimentary background in BJJ was able to usurp and surmount Pierre's more extensive training and Olympic athleticism, but Gwendolyn was never one to extraneously scrutinize gifted stallions when presented with one. Being in so dominant control of a hapless and squirming adversary beneath her could scarcely be considered an undesirable position to find herself in~...

However, Gwendolyn was willing to bestow some modicum of leeway towards the struggling Quebecois and believe he was capable of offering quite the substantial challenge should they have been wrestling within more conventional grappling circumstances. She found herself utterly unbalanced and comically sliding about with flailing arms whenever she attempted something as fundamental as full forward motion, and would certainly not offer this specific match as one to be judged upon by those wishing to ascertain Gwen's grappling expertise. Pierre should be grateful for the noblewoman's rarefied benevolence in this matter, but even if he were aware of this generosity, she assumed that he wouldn't be using what little oxygen being afforded to him in fawning Gwendolyn with praise, deserving of it though she may be. For now she concentrated on applying the gogoplata as well as she could given the frosting flavored flooring, swishing herself left and right to maintain her mounted position to swiveled softness of her backside upon the floored French-Canadian throughout his initial struggles and pawing at her exquisite thighs. A valiant attempt that was woefully gaining little momentum.

"Very well. One can never say I failed in offering you a chance at gracefully accepting defeat. Patience is but one among many of mine own virtues, succulently sweet though mine own impending victory will be~..." Gwendolyn lusciously enunciated as one of her index fingers reached down to trail some frosting from the side and tasting of the delicious sweetness between her pink lips. She was pleased to verify that the hours upon hours of cooking endeavors performed by her staff of maids did indeed process a pastry that was divinely delectable and worthy of her refined taste buds. Although eventually Pierre's thrashing made it apparent to Gwendolyn that the Quebecois was not about to become so easily pacified by the BJJ maneuver, and therefore opted to flip the proverbial script by readjusting herself so she was now shuffled over to her side with the leg scissor still applied. The noblewoman eventually propping herself atop one hand while elevating her entire frame into the air, attaining a grip upon one of her ankles to further the tightening squeeze-play from the smooth muscles of her toned thighs for her renowned Royal Oppression finisher~...

by BritBrat Tue Nov 09, 2021 10:45 am

Long forgotten were what's at stake in this "match" in the mind of the French-Canadian, though one would make an argument that his own mind is currently juggling with a lot of things. Things that relate to this frosty-filled fracas and others that are outside the tasty treat that both tumble with. In short, it's nothing but a mess, similar to the cake that they fight in. Pierre liked to think that he could at least keep things cool, but the utter unconventionalism of how this battle is going has him struggling to keep in check. Just as hard to find a solid grip within the cake, it was tricky enough to try to gain favour with the enigmatic employer. While it is true that the trainer should be the one to speak wisdom and guidance, there was also a threat that the Quebecois would say something wrong that would soon his chances at the job. Hence why opting to stay silent and just figuring out how to take the air out of the socialite's sails was for the best. While that wouldn't be healthy, especially when it comes to the performance of his "interview", it's better than the other options he had. Pierre doubted someone like Gwen would take his inner struggles to consideration. Not when there's much better choices out there.

Still, it's hard enough to say anything when a pair of legs are putting the squeeze on you. Trying to talk when oxygen is but a scarse resource was a silly thing to do. Make every breath count and seek to cease this momentum. In a way, the Quebecois seemed to have done just that, bucking Gwendolyn off his Olympic-trained frame. All things considered, the mounted gogoplata was well applied and despite the rudimentary application, Gwendolyn seems to know what she's doing. Such praise wouldn't be uttered, but it's worthy to note Pierre's not dealing with some novice. In a contrasting manner, despite the fact that he shoved her off, it wasn't to the distance that he hoped. The time he was stuck between a cake and a hard shin did sap his energy to fling her a good distance. In this case, Pierre unwittingly found himself out of the pot and into the fire.

Made even worse once Gwendolyn started to transition into something within her wheelhouse. Pierre may not have done all that research on the haughy heiress, but what little he's done in that quick trip to her manor, showed him one of the moves she uses to put someone away. Pierre's back curled as his upper body began to lift off the cake itself, which was no small feat when his chin is nestled behind Gwen's knee, and the crushing pressure became a coiling fortress. The elevated figure four headscissor brought Pierre to a gurgle, the cake still plastered on his chiseled front. He's been in quite a few triangle chokes in the past, Sankaku Jime if you're from Judo, and the strength the aristocract put in that hold made prying out a wasted undertaking. Which is why as his hand gripped on the bed that crushed his throat, the Québécois attempted something different. The elevated status of both competitors meant that shifting his legs under him is an easier task than before. The cake making it even more so. Time was of the essence, especially after the gogoplata as he felt his form weakening as less air is received. With one burst of energy, Pierre pushed off his feet, with the strength to hoist Gwendolyn up with him. The awkward moment would hopefully bring Gwendolyn to a surprised state as his arms wrapped around her body, making sure she doesn't go anywhere for what was to come. A brief moment where her form is glued to his from the cake, his own stiffening bulge ever so near her flawless facial features, Gwen's head hovering the sweet substance... before he'd fall down to his knees, bringing Gwen's skull to a plunge past the deep cake. A tombstone piledriver might not be within his wheelhouse, but it certainly would do the trick.

by **killcarrion** Mon Nov 29, 2021 12:47 am

Contrary to those who might view Gwendolyn's methodologies as eccentric and bordering on the preposterous, there was in fact some measure of practicality in her decision making practices tonight. Much like how the heiress' work environment can deteriorate into a veritable pressure cooker with mergers and acquisitions needing to be tended to all while outwitting cutthroat corporate rivals forever striving towards usurping the balance of industrial power and influence in their favor, Pierre's position could entail performing his duties amongst less than ideal circumstances. Mayhaps Gwendolyn rearranges her schedule to position her regimented training spar with Pierre at 6:30 in the morning with only a half hour's notice for the Quebecois, who must now arrive at her estate punctual and prepared or risk the pink-slipped consequences. Or perhaps a task is assigned to him on a fanciful whim, such as feeding and walking the ravenous guard dogs who've been trained to become savagely vigilant around strangers. Being capable of adapting on the fly and complying with whatever bafflingly unorthodox or potentially tormenting tasks Gwendolyn assigns to him would position Pierre leagues above whoever else applies for this esteemed and ludicrously high-paying position.

Grappling on a surface as ho-hum as mere padded mats was all well and good, but demonstrating his fighting technique in an environment this inhibiting was how the noblewoman truly wished to test his mettle. Points for endurance were assuredly issued for withstanding the mounted gogoplata that would have had other applicants submitting within half the time he was entrapped. Indubitably a sign of his Olympic caliber training and what separates him from those who failed to even quality for the event. The scarcity of wafted breathes felt against the inner contours of her thighs showcasing how the Quebecois was dutifully strategizing and keeping his calm in spite of his dire predicament and the deluge of delectable distractions abounding all around him. Including but not limited to Gwen's lush lips suckling upon her frosting covered finger. Pierre even somehow amassing the willpower and strength to unseat the heiress from her perched position of authority...although he may have been preferring the gogoplata to what followed. As it compelled Gwendolyn to employ a finisher few could attest to escaping and infamous for being the maneuver which humbled the Tension legend known as Clyde Gastin into a rasping submission and what some theorize into an early retirement as well.

"Submitting is still on the table, Monsieur Vuillard. Might one consider conserving one's energy for a potential second round? It may assuage one's pride to make you aware that win or lose, you'll be vacating the premises with a complimentary slice of cake on your way out the door~..." Gwendolyn pompously pontificated over her shoulder as Pierre chortled out strained breathes with his cranium clutched between her calf and creamy thigh. A fair modicum of concentration was being utilized on the heiress' part as well from keeping herself aloft on such potentially slippery flooring. Although she immediately regretted not assigning some of that aforementioned concentration in noticing Pierre begin to soldier himself upward along with an unwilling aristocrat. Gwendolyn initially yelping with a panic stricken visage before becoming precariously positioned upside down from a commanding waistlock. Her cake slathered softness melded against his chiseled definition with what was an uncomfortable proximity of her snobbish visage to his pronounced package, whatever nudged contact made thankfully usurped by the piledriver pasting her downward to a boomed splat. Gwen's stiffened legs drooping at the knee, and once allowed to plummet she would do just that in a splayed out and dazed stupor.

by BritBrat Wed Jan 12, 2022 9:05 pm

One could find the irony when it came to what transpired, no doubt lost in the French-Canadian’s mind. Oxygen-deprived as it may be at this point in time. He liked to think that he’d be practical in the ring, at least when it came to getting his hands on his opponent. Although his entrances and actions may come off as frivolous to most, they still showed the proficiency needed to deliver a great deal of damage. Just that Pierre doesn’t shy away from a bit of ‘playing to the crowd’. He’d like to think he’s not at Gwendolyn’s level of eccentrics, but what he was able to pull off was certainly far from practical. Whilst there been some counters to a typical headscissior, this particular variation was perhaps the most difficult. It left the victim in such an awkward position to counter, let alone escape. Pierre has heard of the snooty socialite’s storied skill in dance, and knowing how strong they can be (though certain experience with dancer girls he hooked up with) a squeeze from them would be a nightmare to deal with. That particular variation had been what given her victory in many occasions since it’s adoption, and the chances of tapping out and/or passing out had such a high probability. For a wrestler, it would be difficult to find any sort of reprieve that didn’t involve submitting.

However, few things had to be taken to account. First thing was Pierre himself. It’s not the first time that he had legs wrapped around his head, but it was of a different variation known as Sankaku Jime. While it would work the same way as a scissor, the move’s nature is that of a pinning hold. Because of it’s nature of not being a submission hold, it was second nature for judokas to struggle to get out. Given his near Olympic level, the Quebecoise is used to fighting his way out of situations that otherwise seemed impossible to get out of. No doubt putting the men and even women to shame. The other thing was Gwendolyn not expecting it. Which is no fault of her own, since surrendering is such a foregone conclusion that she can stand pat and wait. Like a snake waiting for the prey to tire itself out. Problem was this ‘prey’ had a lot of strength to break free and it was going to take some effort on her part to wither him down into submission. Certainly put Clyde Gastin to shame, considering how easy he succumbed to the hold. Then again, the modern day cowboy probably didn’t think of this when he was the first one to have the honor of being trapped in it. Not that he’s around to take pointers from the French-Canadian of bringing himself up to his feet, with the haughty heiress hoisted upside down in the air. Pierre couldn’t see the panic stricken face, but he could feel it along his prominent package and the shrieks she let out. It certainly wasn’t expected, but she’s too late to do anything as the inevitable came from being put in this position. No doubt wasn’t planning to have her whole head dunked into the cake, but even further to the canvas. Pierre felt her legs letting up soon as the impact reverberated their bodies, the piledriver hitting the right spot. Probably would need a masseuse to treat that spine…which now brings thoughts that the Quebecoise might find himself doing as part of being a trainer.

Not that he has secured that job role yet, but he was in a chance to do so. It’s right there for the taking as Gwendolyn slumps on the frosting covered floor, but Pierre needed a breather. It was well deserved after the effort he put into fighting out of the socialite’s submissions. “Someone’s…having their…complimentary slice of cake…” Pierre said with a horse voice, no doubt bringing much air into his body. His neck felt like it was close to being chopped off by Gwen’s thighs, the feeling still permeating moments after they left his throat. Once he felt he’s had sufficient breaths to function, Pierre grabbed a handful of Gwendolyn’s golden curls, lifting her head from the cake covered canvas, seeing her visage marred with the frosted coating of the cake, unconscious as she probably is. “Heh…look at that…I can breathe as much as I want…and didn’t need to give a few gentle taps. For what it’s worth…damn strong legs you got.” He sneered before dropping her face down to the cake once more before moving on top of her, sitting on top of her golden crown. His legs placed on either side of her body, hooking his calves underneath her armpits as the Canadian judoka maneuvered around her while he still can. Having her folded up would be discomforting enough, as well as her face plastered on the cake, but Pierre seeks to sprinkle in some more as his arms grabbed hers and began to wrench them behind her back. Pierre knew her ballet would grant her plenty of flexibility, but even the body has it’s limits, especially once she’ll feel her arms almost being ripped out of their sockets.

by **killcarrion** Wed Jan 26, 2022 8:17 pm

Ever the industrious venture capitalist, Gwendolyn seldom shied away from promising endeavors that walked the straight and narrow line between being outright unsafe undertakings and surefire campaigns that guaranteed one's investment back at the very least. For when it came to future business projects it was those ventures in the middle, whose future remained a nebulous mystery, were where true profitability rested. Gwendolyn prides herself in possessing a visionary's mindset in these matters while still having the forethought to impartially measure an idea's pros and cons beforehand to help mitigate possible losses. Shrewd rationale such as this came into play when deciding Pierre's conquered fate tonight rested betwixt her sublime thighs which strained and went taut within her Royal Oppression finisher. It's history of subduing dim-witted simpleton's such as a certain notoriously conquered cowboy's all but guaranteed a similar denouement in regards to the French-Canadian grappler currently rasping out breathes and assuredly on the cusp of submitting. Unfortunately, the caliber of athletic competition within Tension apparently progressed leaps and bounds beyond the inadequate wrestling skills of blonde cowboys with more libido than brains.

Stupefied by the strength of will and quite literal strength necessary to disentangle himself from her submission in such a manner, Gwendolyn squirmed and struggled to undo what had long since been done as she felt a pair of strong arms tighten around her petite waist. Making her fulsome softness inseparable from the Quebecois's toned physique. The snobbish socialite being ill-prepared to cope with let alone counter this lamentable and undignified turn of events with a view just as mortifying and one she'd much rather appreciate from afar. Muffled groans becoming muted out against the substantial swell of what Gwendolyn did not need to see firsthand in order to confirm and therefore closed her eyes until the boom was proverbially dropped. The cake-splattering impact cascading from the crown of her cranium to the bottom of her feet like a a jolt of electricity that left her stiffened before becoming limpened jelly in his arms. Evident by how utterly she collapsed upon being released into a splayed out slump with naught but the sounds of her own soft groaning and Pierre's inane commentary overheard. In spite of it meaning her humiliating defeat by his hands, Gwendolyn somehow regretted not actually being rendered unconscious to spare herself from his braggadocios blustering.

"...*Tch*...ever....the opportunist. Well, I'll...ensure you'll have your cake...and eat it too..." Gwendolyn bitterly replied after having regained some of her faculties from the extended breather the pair were taking thanks to Pierre's fatigued exhaustion from withstanding her submission finisher. Despite the reprieve however, she was understandably unable to reclaim much else due to the stunning aftereffects of being drilled into the canvas much akin to a hammered nail. Gwendolyn's dire straits devolving expeditiously upon being unwillingly jostled over onto her front side from Pierre's grip on her locks and with her flinching grimace buried into a face caking splat. Underneath which she fumed and bristled until her head would arise from beneath the richly layered frosting...before being smushed right back down from Pierre daring to sit his admittedly toned backside upon her crown. Incensing her enough to not notice her arms becoming locked within his legs until they were being utilized as a fulcrum to over-extend her arms. Some of the cake around her head plastered and shifted about to allow her room to breathe, or in this case snarl through gnashed teeth with her flexible legs spread wide to the sides. Emphatically locked down in the submission and under Pierre's control within a position unattainable by those without extensive ballet training, Gwendolyn struggled mightily for several excruciating seconds until swishing both of her legs behind her. Performing this task was exhausting enough though, and for now she remained captured with an occasional uplift to her frosting slathered rump that wiggled slightly when she settled back down while tapping her tips of her feet into the caked canvas from the strain.

by BritBrat Wed Feb 02, 2022 12:58 pm

While coming off as irritating for the would-be employer, such bluster does not come without merit to justify it. Of course, as a potential trainer, gloating over someone wouldn’t be in good taste in terms of teaching someone to get better. Regardless of who the student is, there’s still a modicum of decorum that those imparting knowledge must uphold. And such behavior would be the cause of why they are left discouraged to go further. On the back of that, this might not curry favor with Gwen since she’s still the one that will be the one to decide her fate. Which, in the Quebecoise being so swept up in the competitive nature, Gwendolyn’s wishes to be tested, also notwithstanding, is something that had been forgotten. Despite all that, Pierre felt that it was a justified response to it all. There wasn’t a man or woman that has escaped the snooty socialite’s squeeze, and that is after his throat was crushed and constricted before that. It is a shame that such a feat is not televised for the world to see, and he’d half expect Gwendolyn not to utter that he was the first to escape. Such a thing would undoubtedly ruin the reputation that she’d most likely built over the years since its inception. Rumors went about that went in another name, the Cowboy Constrictor. He doesn’t have quite the same ring as Royal Oppression, but it might have been something that ended his career afterward. Digression aside, the French-Canadian wouldn’t mind having this one thing that he could keep. It would be something between Gwen and him alone, but that’s one good accomplishment over so many disappointments in his life.

Although he did manage to break free without falling into unconsciousness, he was close to the darkness enveloping him. And thus, it took a while for him to move after this. However, the piledriver would have done a number on the haughty heiress, granting him moments to gather his strength. Not too long, of course; his chance to recover is also the same for his opponent. Pierre breathed in deep, letting all the air just fill his lungs once more. At least as much as he could while still reeling from the feeling of Gwen’s legs imprinting on his throat, Pierre expected the bitter reply, but he figured Gwen would be much worse off than he is after being hammered down like a nail. But they had their moment; now the fun begins. At least for the Quebecoise. Manipulating and moving Gwen’s body around was easy enough since she’s not in a position to oppose him, making his move. It’s probably ironic in a way for a guy to be sitting on top of a woman, but such thoughts weren't in his mind as Pierre parked his backside on top of the Imperial Rose. As expected, she wouldn’t have any idea what was happening until she felt the strain on her joints. Gwendolyn still put up a struggle underneath, just like Pierre did, having that competitive spirit ablaze.

Defeat certainly wasn’t on her mind, and she tried with what she could. “I’ll…be kind to offer the…same opportunity to submit…Madame Bettencourt. I’d be remiss…if I severely injured my first student….” It wouldn’t be right if he didn’t give the same advice as Gwen did before. Knowing her, she’d want to show the same grit and never surrender attitude that Pierre showed early. Perhaps that’s something he would have taught first thing. Upon seeing the Imperial Rose’s legs somehow being moved behind her instead of in front, he’d surmised that Gwen also had the same drive. Mind you, seeing such flawless flexibility in motion; this up close was awe-inspiring. Good thing he didn’t go for a Boston Crab. That might not have been effective.

“Can’t say I didn’t offer….” Pierre muttered quietly to himself. And after moments of wrenching Gwen’s arms to the point they might pop out, he began to move above. He wasn’t going to wait for whatever Gwen might have in store for a counter and instead moved with her. “Still got spirit in you….I’d say my never-quit attitude must be rubbing off on you. Picking things up so quickly.” Pierre planted his feet before rising to his feet, still holding Gwen’s arms. However, he began to form a double underhook as he moved upwards, taking the heiress with him. With her head in the position of something familiar. Something that she would know as countless of her foes left destroyed with that move. “You’ve tasted the cake…now it’s time to have a taste of your own medicine!”

by **killcarrion** Sun Feb 20, 2022 10:35 pm

One could never say that certain advantages were never inherently bequeathed to Gwendolyn by means of her birthright and birthright alone. Even though it was only through her tenacity and noble-minded diligence that she managed to make the utmost usage of the plethora of tools at her disposal to become the virtuous paragon of sophistication, brilliance, beauty, and elegance that she embodies to this day...an extravagant deluge of capital and perks does have its advantages. Once upon a time when she was but a spirited tyke did she query towards her Mother as to why everyone simply didn't use their own private helicopters for their traveling conveyance. Age, wisdom, and an advanced understanding of the Calculus-Based Principles of Economics eventually answering all of these questions for her. As a matter of fact, the solitary nature of wrestling may have been one of the underlying motivations behind Gwendolyn becoming so thoroughly engrossed with the elegant brutality that was this ancient sport dating back thousands of years. One's acclaimed success or humbling defeat mattered solely on the physical capabilities and honed training you bring into the ring with you. Twas a venue through which Gwendolyn could demonstrate her unparalleled fitness and physique without the boons of her lineage becoming a factor in the slightest.

...of course, Gwendolyn hesitated to believe the ancient Greeks participated in bouts within cake filled rings such as these. Plus they were garbed in disturbingly less apparel then even wrestlers in today's day and age. Regardless, at this current moment, not only were Gwen's vast riches to no avail, but neither was time particularly on her side. Not when she was being stretched to an extraneous degree with an obnoxiously adept Quebecois grappler anchoring her down. Gwendolyn begrudgingly willing to refer to Pierre as such if he was capable of implementing this taxing of a submission on her. One that was incapacitating as well given he'd be hyper-extending both of her arms behind her after hooking them underneath his legs in the process. Whatever seething discontent she'd end up scowling out being blubbered into the frosting flavored delicacies which her frazzled facials were being squashed into below. The entire wretched scene being the resulting causality of the posh blueblood perhaps underestimating Pierre's strength levels and apparently submission techniques as the strain on her arms began breaching upon her own limitations. A fidgeting squirm of her legs beginning to clue her on as to her only viable and actually quite obvious avenue of escape from both the tormenting submission and Pierre's equally agonizing and arrogant bravado.

"Tch...whatever you claim to be rubbing off on me...Hgh...it is most certainly not your attitude..." Gwendolyn huffed out in grimaced vexation, in regards to what exactly she would allow the Quebecois to ponder. For now though, merely fathoming the notion of submitting to Pierre was ample enough motivation for the heiress to begin showcasing the degree to which her flexibility is attuned. Seamlessly swiveling one leg behind her at a time in wide-arcing rotations until she was beginning to perch herself on her knees, which was a substantially more advantageous position to potentially free herself than with her legs spread out in a "V" shape. An observation that Pierre regrettably noticed as well and therefore raised the stakes while concurrently raising Gwendolyn up as well. She recognized her predicament immediately, albeit with motions and sights unfamiliar to her once both of her arms were hooked behind her and offered the disconcerting view of the floor from between his tightened thighs with the irksome swell of his package against the back of her neck. At first seething with indignation from Pierre having the brazen impertinence to attempt to defeat Gwendolyn with her own vaunted finisher, her squirming resistance added up to nothing more than an undignified sway of her royal backside thanks to the numbness felt in her anguished arms. However, a familiar idea dawned upon her. And with one whiplashing upheaval of her leg behind her back, the Quebecois would be thwacked with a bare-footed Scorpion Kick. One whose impact would not be lessened despite the caked splat that came with it.

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