Trent Masters vs. Gwendolyn DuPont Bettencourt

With the Masterpiece groaning in effort trying to escape the headlock, he did not anticipate that Gwendolyn would transition the submission move into an offensive strike by running forward and slamming his face onto the oiled mats for a bulldog strike. The slam left him dazed, he rolled over onto his back and clutched his face while trying to get the residue oil off from his face. This allowed the blonde to back up into the same set of turnbuckles she just used to perform the bulldog and carry herself up onto the middle ropes.

She sized her foe up before leaping up in the air, attempting a diving split-legged leg drop upon Trent's chest! However, the Masterpiece was on to her clever tactic and played possum for when she leaped up the air the Masterpiece would roll out of the way and let Gwen land on nothing but the mats to miss her target. "Alas Madam Gwen, you are far from joining us let alone leading. Prove your worth in the ring" he said before grabbing her by the hair to pull her onto her knees.

The Masterpiece would lean forward, wrapping his arm around her neck to trap her in a dragon sleeper submission but would modify the hold so that he would have her beautiful face trapped right under his oiled armpit to transition the dragon sleeper into a dragon smother. "Tell me, how does it feel to be wrestling a real man?" he mocked.

Given the faction leader's cerebral wrestling acumen and pronounced physique indicating the relative ease with which her adversary could potentially brute force his through any dire predicament, Gwendolyn felt it behooved her not to dilly-dally in regards to capitalizing upon Trent's facial smashing misfortune. Although admittedly unable to deny herself the opportunity to cater to her flair for the theatrical as she ascended the corner turnbuckle intent on executing an enticingly extravagant leg-drop rather than a more practical grounded submission. A tactical error only just than dawning upon the snobbish socialite whilst in mid-descent as the ring canvas made for a substantially less forgiving landing pad.

Gwendolyn scrunched her pristine facials through gnashed teeth which were undoubtedly stifling certain uncivilized epithets that a lady of her prestigious stature knew better than to sully her maidenly lips with. She remained slouched over with clawed hands in visceral vexation whilst still in her perfect leg split position and testament to her wondrous flexibility, albeit undone once Trent seized upon his own opportunity by snagging the heiress' golden curls into a dragon sleeper under the most irksome of conditions. "HMMFFPH!!!" Gwendolyn's well justified protests being muffled out beneath certain odious confines as she was angled backwards, her supply greased contours puffed out and one hand snatched onto Trent's bicep in concerted efforts to wriggle herself free.

Wanting to stamp his authority as the leader of the Dominion and thus being the best wrestler in the faction, he could not let even a wrestler like Gwendolyn usurp his position despite her own wrestling acumen. All it took was one small mistake and the Masterpiece found himself back in the driver seat of this wrestling match by taking advantage of the Heiress's misfortunes.

Now, the Masterpiece found himself in a most favorable position, with him behind the blonde wrestler trapping her in a dragon sleeper. The traditional dragon sleeper did not last long though as the Masterpiece was looking to put some more spice and humiliation in the move, adjusting his positioning ever so slightly to have his oiled underarms pressed against her facial features to smother her a move which he dubbed the dragon smother.

When she grabbed his bicep and started to struggle, Trent retaliated by wrapping his legs around her torso, giving her a firm squeeze in a added body scissor on top of the smother. "You must forgive me for putting you in such a humiliating move but surely you understand we must do whatever it takes to win and in style. On the flip side, you now know what a real man smells and tastes like! I must admit though, my oil isn't as expensive as yours but I assure you....it will get the job done" he smirked.

Trent would stretch himself backward a bit, allowing him more leverage. "Give up" he sternly.

Benevolent though Gwendolyn could become when graciously accepting formalized apologies from fellow members of the societal elite, it was safe to surmise that certain offenses would decidedly not be so easily pardoned. Whatever lingering aches below the waist sustained from the heiress' botched split leg drop were supplanted by her masterful adversary pouncing upon the posh blueblood and binding her within his muscle flexing prowess. Contests of sheer strength and brute force were precisely the types of predicaments Gwendolyn sought to abstain from in this match, and for reasons which were self-evident given the ease with which she was taken down to the canvas and ensnared within an imprisonment that offended her in a variety of aspects.

Gwendolyn bristled in loathed disgust practically immediately upon being tucked within the odorous crevice, a sentiment that continued onward as Trent cranked in the submission that further smeared his musk pungent underarm against her posh countenance. Stifling her repulsed disdain from a sophisticated lady of her distinction being subjected to this, although not without a fidgeting resistance that had her golden boots skidding against the slicked canvas and which inadvertently begin perking her oil smoothed posterior against Trent's pronounced package. A serendipitous distraction in Gwendolyn's concerted efforts to stamp her feet against the canvas before thrusting herself backward until her adversary's back was flattened against the canvas. A pin attempt and enticing showcasing of the regal aristocrat's flexibility as she balanced on her tiptoes.

"1!"

Despite Trent wanting Gwendolyn to join the illustrious Dominion faction as their fourth member and first female member, he was not going to give her any favours at all. She would have to earn her way into the ranks. Though she was former champion, Trent would still have her go through this initiation test. So far she had impressed but now found herself in trouble because she was trapped in the clutches of the masterful submission technique of Mr. Masters himself.

A bit of humiliation and a pit of pain was the perfect submission technique and the blonde found herself being trapped in a dragon smother and body scissor submission. Without saying a word in response to his question, Gwen would press her boots against the mat and scoot backwards to push Trent down to his back with her on top to fold him up in a clever pin.

After the count of "1" Trent would release the body scissor and plant his sole to the mat and push up, forcing the two to sit up once more into the same position however this time he had to relinquish the body scissor leaving Gwen trapped in just the armpit smother.

"A clever attempt. Bravo." he said before tightening the grip of the submission. "However, it is going to take more than that unfortunately. Gwendolyn, this must truly be embarrassing for you to be in such a position. I would advise you to submit but rest assure I plan to humiliate and submit you two more times. All is fair in love and wrestling" he said as things got more intense and competitive between the tag team partners.

Doubt abounded within Gwendolyn as to whether the other Dominion members were subjected to rites of passage this...distasteful. Muscled brawn being torqued upon her confined cranium and all words of objection stifled against the overbearing underarm submission. A mortifying predicament she rightfully rebelled against with a noblewoman's pride and a limber upheaval that initiated a pin attempt alongside unlatching Trent's legs from around her petite waist, but was ultimately unsuccessful in granting Gwendolyn the liberating freedom she so fervently yearned for. Instead being settled back down in a disheartening undoing of the heiress' efforts, albeit with less escaping initiative being taken by Gwendolyn as the strained submission being paying it's dividends. Oil smeared perspiration coated both competitors who were now practically sticking to each-other given the length of time with which the snobbish highborn was being subdued.

The Imperial Rose seemingly began wilting with naught but infrequent upticks to one of her splayed legs seen as tangible motions considering she was incapable of breathing in resuscitating air not tainted in humid warmth and repugnant body odor. Aghast from the masterfully locked in technique and its mortifying confines against her smushed facials, none would have begrudged the frazzled aristocrat if she submitted to The Masterpiece's vaunted strength, technique, and pungently masculine musk. Except in one adrenaline fueled reprisal Gwendolyn would reenact her previous upheaval except manage to sprightly balance herself upside down, a feat only capable due to Trent's bodyscissors now having been undone. Tipping herself backward and yanking her noggin free with a hearty inhale and stark wide eyes before slumping to the canvas with her arms and legs splayed out in fatigued, blushing exhaustion.

It certainly did not have to be this way, the Masterpiece had offered a chance for Gwendolyn to be their valet/manager instead of being an active member in their wrestling faction but the blueblood would not accept his offer until and unless she would have an esteemed place on their faction as a wrestler and equal! The Masterpiece was ready to give her that position on the condition they have this match which of course he was going to do more than his best to prove Gwendolyn wrong!

Trapped in the submission for quite some time, Trent and Gwen were going back and forth in this clash as was evident from their sweat and coil coated frames. Gwen was subjected to a humiliating submission with her face being smothered by his underarms. She did well to try and switch it up and go for the pin and against any lesser wrestler it might have worked but not against the Masterpiece who shifted back up and got them back to the status quo albeit without the body scissor.

Without a word in response to his taunts, Gwen continued her efforts to escape by leaning backwards a bit before using her impressive acrobatic ability to get herself upside down and flip over behind him, using the oil to slip his head free and ended up behind him! However, despite her advantageous position she was too exhausted to make a comeback move and instead slumped to the mats with her arms and legs splayed out.

Trent smirked as he slowly got back up to his feet, adjusted his briefs and pressed his boot against her shoulder to flip her over onto her back before mounting her in a schoolgirl pin position, having his briefs press up against her chin as he looked down. Trent flexed his arms and posed over her triumphantly. "Gwendolyn, do you accept defeat and quit this wrestling match? If so, I can offer you a place by my side as my valet" he said.

The referee noticed the pin and would slide down, doing her job as she started the count on Gwen. "One!"

The explanation for Gwendolyn's uncharacteristic complacency in regards to Trent's boastful braggadocio was rightfully attributed to her obvious incapability to mouth words not muffled into incoherent gibberish. Otherwise The Masterpiece would have been capable of conversing with the elegantly eloquent heiress, although her retorts and rejoinders may not have been on par with the sublime discourse as befitting an heiress of her exalted stature. Not when she was under such physical duress for such an extended period of time. Spine angled backward with Trent's raw strength flexing down on and enfeebling the noblewoman, alongside a veritable eternity spent being uncomfortably acquainted with Trent's sweaty underarm and the musked odor within. Hence Gwendolyn's inability to capitalize on her newfound freedom after accomplishing such a balletic feat of agility to escape her entrapment as she found herself breathing out exhausted pants to a splayed out splat against the greased over canvas.

"...*pant*...*pant*..." Simultaneous relief and dread was the unwelcome order of emotions Gwendolyn experienced as she languished below. Recognizing how dangerously close she was to becoming embarrassingly submitted by The Masterpiece, but acknowledging an athlete of his caliber would scarcely pass up the opportunity to further his advantage. Gwendolyn being woefully proven correct when she huffed out from the grease slathered faction leader nestled atop her, making good on his accursed promise to humiliate her with his swelled suggestiveness against her chin and flexed posturing. Showcasing his dominance over the pompous aristocrat, facials scrunched from between his thighs and uttering "That...Master Trent...would be too bold..." before her legs would slip underneath his arms and roll him backward onto his head and shoulders. Immediately afterward spiraling them to the side so he was on his front side with Gwen settled onto his back with a single-leg Boston Crab applied.

So far everything was going according to the Masterpiece's master plan. Inviting Gwendolyn to his group was a calculated move and a risk on his part. He knew having such a resourceful woman with countless accolades would be benefit for the group and the partnership would be mutual with Gwendolyn having some muscle around to do her biddings for her. However, he did not plan on playing second best to one of the best wrestlers in AFW and hence this masterful plan on having one of the best by his side but beating her by humiliation to let her and everyone else know his place on the top of the mountain.

After smothering her for a long period with his underarm, he found himself atop of her chest and scooted forward to have his briefs dangerously close her mouth for a facesit smother. He gave her a choice to submit, one which she rebuked instantly which caused him to scoot forward to make good on his promise to win by humiliation submission. However, the crafty blueblood would use her long legs and flexibility to curl her legs towards his underarm and hook them before rolling the two over to roll Trent over onto his head and shoulders for a nifty counter.

"Tch, impossible" he grunted and soon found himself turned over onto his front while Gwendolyn in one swift motion settled onto his back with a single-leg Boston Crab applied. "Guuugh! Owwww" he moaned as his leg was being curled backwards to his head and his back was in pain. "Heh, owww a-as expected from one such yourself...." he smirked despite in pain.

The Masterpiece attempted to use his free leg to aid himself in crawling forward towards the ring ropes while the oiled conditions also seemed to assist him in crawling.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry, as Gwendolyn would have quoted. Trent's schemed machinations, while strategically viable in their own right, regretfully hinged on him being capable of reigning victorious over the dignified aristocrat. A lofty feat that precious few can claim to have accomplished. Even for individuals of Master Trent's prestigious grappling expertise, whom was lamentably proving to be a gentleman of his word when it came to his proclaimed usage of debasing submissions and situations to rattle the heiress. However, demoralizing though these shameful experiences may have been whilst under her adversary's control, Gwendolyn's noble pride endured until she found a moment of hubris taken upon on Trent's part that the blueblood could seize advantage of. Leading to their positions being switched with the heiress mounted upon the small of his back, his angled leg snatched into the Boston Crab, and herself back in the proverbial saddle.

Gwendolyn huffed out through pursed lips as she further torqued back on the Masterpiece's strained appendage, casting a spiteful glare over her shoulder at the back of Trent's head once he started making headway towards shimmying along the greased flooring. Not unexpected from the calculating aristocrat, although far sooner that she would have preferred. "...Hmph, verily. Although, what you'll soon be taught by mine own divine hands is that the unexpected, is also indeed within mine own wheelhouse." Gwendolyn smugly enunciated before abruptly abandoning her cinched in submission maneuver and allowing his entrapped leg to collapse, although soon afterward swiveling herself around to begin applying a camel clutch. Situating both of the Masterpiece's muscled arms over her knees with hands interlocked beneath his chin...but only to better aid in extending her left arm around his head, and present his facials within her own armpit in a Dragon Clutch instead.