Layla McCarthy vs Lynette de Villiers

Layla's tricky manuever had given her half the suess she had hoped for. She had taken Lynette down to the mat, but not in the more painful fall that she had been intending. Still, she couldn't argue with the results. Lynette was off her feet, and Layla still had a firm grip on one of her ankles. The little fighter had the French girl right where she wanted her.

"You're not going anywhere!" Layla declared as Lynette squirmed and struggled, ad reafirmed her grip on her ankle in the most brutal of ways. Wrapping one of her arms around her opponant's foot, Layal would then start to sharply twist in in the other hand, trying to trap Lynette in an ankle lock submission.

Lynette had tried to free herself from Layla's insistant hold repeatedly, kicking wildly and trying to jerk her foot away, but Layla's tenacity had held strong. Then, suddenly, pain exploded in her ankle as she felt it twisted hard into an ankle-lock, and a high-pitched shriek that sounded far less confident than Lynette had been demonstrating escaped from her lips.

Damn! She thought, trying to quiet herself after that particularly embarrassing scream; she sounded helpless! As Layla seemed locked upon her, Lynette fought through the waves of pain to try to realize a way out of this hold. There was no way she'd submit so early! Not a chance!

Finding no stability to try to reverse the counter right away, she began a slow but steady crawl towards the ringside, to the ropes, her fingers outstretched as they tried to grab onto the mockingly smooth ring floor and pull herself to the edge of the fighting square. If she could only get to the ropes...even if Layla refused to release her, being at ringside would give her an opportunity for more ways to find leverage and free herself from this damnable hold! If it kept up too long, she'd seriously hurt her ankle, and if Lynette couldn't stand, she'd be drastically disadvantaged for the rest of the match.

Bit by bit, the french woman dragged both her and the offending Layla towards the ringside. Do not lose here...do not lose here... she repeated to herself, gritting her teeth, little gasps of weakness still slipping out from her mouth.

Do not lose here!

Lynette's scream of pain was like music to Layla's ears, causing a smile to spread across Layla's face. To have this haughty woman at her mercy was nothing short of satisfying. Keeping one of Lynette's legs trapped in her arms, Layla gave a sharp twist of her ankle to give her bursts of pain every so often.

Then Layla felt herself start to move, her body moving with Lynette's as she crawled her way to the ropes. Layla growled irritably. SHe wasn't aboutto give this hold up so easily. Before Lynette could fully make her way to the ropes, Layla would wrench on Lynette's ankle as hard as she could, looking to slow Lynette's way to the ropes, or stop it all together.

The pain was intense, but Lynette's determination to escape was moreso. Clawing across the ring, yelping out with excruciating gasps every so often, Lynette was thankful she was as tall as she was; because of her height, there were less inches to have to traverse just to escape this merciless submission.

After what seemed like an eternity, and a few instances of a Layla's ruthless twists delaying her progress, Lynette finally managed to get both hands upon the bottom rope, and without waiting any further, pulled herself towards the ropes, aiming to slide through them, off of the ring apron and out of the ring to collect herself and recover. If Layla did not release her immediately from the rope break, Lynette would drag her out as well...now that she had something to hold on to, de Villiers intended to take instant advantage of her strength. If Layla refused to let go and was successfully dragged out, there were a lot of hard things outside of the ring that the french woman would adore throwing Layla against, and Lynette was far from above such tactics.

It was a battle of will powers between Layla and Lynette, with Layla trying to keep Lynette trapped in the submission and her opponant desperately trying to escape from it. Unfortunately for Layla she was lacking in the brute strength department, and keeping a tall girl like Lynette down wasn't exactly easy. And so eventually Lynette would reach the ropes, much to Layla's annoyance. She actually intended to hold Lynette a few seconds longer after the rope break, but the bigger woman surprised her by actually pulling herself out of the ring. Layla gasped in surprise, nearly being pulled out of the ring with her, but immediately let go of the Frenh woman's ankle before that could happen.

Layla glared down at Lynette from inside the ring, a little miffed that she had managed to get away from her. Her mouth, however, soon curled into a smirk. Raising her arm, Layla beckoned Lynette forth with her finger, much like Lynette had to Layla earlier. Now it was Layla's turn to dispense with the arrogant gestures.

As Lynette slid from the ring, she at last felt Layla's hands abandon her ankle, and free at last, her head-first escape of the ring shifted into a careful little tumble to the floor. She rose, her ankle burning, and readily turned back to face the smaller girl in the ring. Finding that Layla was not following, Lynette took the time to test weight on her ankle, giving it pressure as the jagged shards of pain began to disappate, and thankfully, she concluded that no permanent damage had been sustained.

The french woman scowled as she prowled around the ring, her little limp slowly easing back into a controlled gait, taking every ring count available to restore as much feeling in her ankle as possible. As Layla mocked her from within the ring, Lynette returned a sharp ultramarine glare, one that was darkly filled with cruel promises of tenfold suffering. This time, she was silent.

When she could afford to stay outside no longer, Lynette's pomp returned, and the french girl rounded to the ring steps and stepped up them, tense and ready if Layla tried to attack her by the turnbuckle. She steps were slow and deliberate, again insinuating that Lynette was worth the time that she made Layla wait. She made it worse by smiling prettily and pretending to tip her hat to Layla, as if applauding someone for the most trivial accomplishment. Lynette had picked up that this sort of thing really irked the green-clad girl, but she was also willing to bet that while getting her mad might make her fight harder, it would probably make her fight more stupidly too. And so long as Lynette could remain standing, she was sure that Layla hitting as hard as she could would still not hit hard enough, at least compared to how hard Lynette would hit back.

With her eyes locked on Layla's and determined to get back into the ring before Layla could attack her, Lynette put one hand on the turnbuckle and with an impressive flourish, swept her legs sideway over the top rope with all the fluid grace of a balanced gymnast, and then landed neatly in the corner. Leaning into her own fighting stance, Lynette pursed her lips into a condescending sneer, and finally spoke again.

"L'amener."

Layla's gaze followed Lynette around the ring, making sure she would notice if the woman decided to pick up any weapons on her way, but it seemed like that wouldn't be the case. As the ref girl counted down the time when Lynette would have to face Layla in the ring again, the smaller girl took the time to recount her strategy. Much of it involved takng Lynette apart, and knocking her down a few pegs with some humble humiliation.

When the time came for Lynette to get bak in the ring, Layla tensed up into readiness. SHe tried her best to kep her anger down, which was a hard task to do when faced with an infuriating woman like Lynette. Much as she wanted to, a second charge at the French woman probably wouldn't end well for her. Lynette wouldn't fall for the same trick twice. She'd have to tread carefully for now. Layla would cautiously aprroach Lynette, not attacking just yet, but she knew she would have to eventually.

As Layla held back, Lynette lifted a thin eyebrow at the pause. Then, a devious smile crept over her face. Keeping her distance, Lynette slowly and watchfully began circling Layla, sizing her up, taking free looks at the smaller girl's form. Lynette stopped, cast a glance over the crowd, and then looking back to Layla leaned forward, lowering her center of gravity as she raised her hand out, offering her palm to Layla invitingly.

There was no doubt about it: Lynette was asking Layla to partake in a fingerlock test of strength, a classic wrestling device. A sly smile crept over the french debutante's face. She was testing Layla's ego. If she accepted, she'd be locked in a hold in which Lynette had a distinct advantage. If she refused, she'd look like a coward to the spectators, and perhaps to anyone else watching...and she'd give Lynette the pleasure of watching her hesitate in the face of an open challenge.

Cerebral? Lynette excelled at these kinds of tactics.

Layla circled with Lynette, trying to keep out of range from those kiks of hers while contemplating what her next move should be. Before she could reach a conclusion, Lynette made the first move, offering her a test of strength.

Layla scowled at Lynette. Part of her knew that acepting the challenge was a bad idea, but the other part of her didn't want to show weakness. Ever since she learned how to fight Layla had never backed down from a challenge. This one would be no different it seemed. And so raising her shorter arms, Layla would entwine her fingers with Lynette's. and one they were loked up, would start pushing against her with all her might.

The devious smile shifted into a delighted grin as Layla agreed to Lynette's proposition, and the two women locked into a clean grapple, hand to hand, to test their mettle.

As soon as Layla pressed forcefully into Lynette's hands, the taller french woman met it equally, bracing her feet, and staunchly refused to budge. For a fair moment, Lynette simply watched Layla, pressing with all of her might, and while the 4'9 girl ended up being stronger than Lynette had expected, it was still not enough to budge the woman who had a full foot height advantage.

Then, Lynette pushed offensively, pressing against and down upon Layla, trying to make her bend back over where she stood...that is, unless Lynette was able to force her down to her knees, which would be even more gratifying.

"I applaud your spirit..." She whispered, leaned forward enough to press most of her top half against Layla, her words slipping sensually into the smaller fighter's ear. "But not quite enough, mon cher..."