Dixie Clemets vs. PHDoom

Dixie was panting, her breath labored. She had to get back up, back up on her feet. She was starting to feel kind of stupid. After all, she had let Doom rise back up instead of trying to finish her when she had the chance. She hadn't expecting Doom to be able to launch right back into another assault like this, and now she was paying the cost for underestimating the woman yet again.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, to steady her nerves, and began to push herself back up...but as she began to do so, she was met with the elbow of Doom, driving straight into her spine, right into the small of her back. With another choked cry, the cowgirl went back down, this time fully on her front, lying belly down against the mat. Her head turned to the side, the side of her face lying against the canvas. That had hurt, and she didn't think she could take much more of Doom striking at her back. She needed to get back up, she absolutely had to, or at least roll over so she could face up. Problem was, she was feeling damn tired and damn hurt, the simple elbow going a long way towards keeping her down.

Doom's legs still felt unstable and weak, beneath her, even as she pulled herself onto her knees. The sheer visceral thrill of feeling her elbow collide with Dixie's back had been gratifying, but Doom was beginning to feel the need to end this. A deeply ingrained part of Doom's psyche wanted to push this, to deliver as much pain and suffering to Dixie's body as she could, but Doom could feel that the end was near. Watching the cowgirl doubled over, reveling in the pain she'd inflicted on her, Doom prepared to put an end to the veteran crowd favorite's struggles.

More slowly than she would have liked, Doom began to attempt taking control of Dixie's body, trying to force her into a submission move. Doom attempted to get a solid hold of Dixie's arm, and trap it between her legs. If she could manage that, Doom would then try to wrap her arm's around her opponent's neck, to force her down to the mat and choke the life out of her using a crossface submission.

Doom's eyes traveled up and down Dixie's panting, exhausted form, taking immense satisfaction out of the cowgirl's suffering. If she weren't enjoying the view quite so much, or if she hadn't been so exhausted, Doom may have realized how slowly she was actually moving. But to her mind, in that moment, Dixie was at her mercy, and the end was imminent.

Dixie felt week, as she felt Doom grabbing her arm and jerking it between her legs. She wasn't sure what was coming, but she knew it wasn't good. Her worries only multiplied when she felt Doom's arm snaking forward, wrapping around her neck, pulling her into the crossface.

"Nn...o-oh gawd..." she drawled out, as the punk began to work her over with the hold, bending her back into the submission. She was already in pain enough, but the crossface was only making it worse, sending shockwaves of agony up and down the cowgirl's body. With her one free hand, Dixie reached up, trying to grab helplessly at Doom's arms. She didn't think she could pry it loose, in fact she knew she couldn't do it, but she had to do something. She couldn't just lie there and suffer in the hold. It was hard to try and withstand it though. Every moment was like a new hell for the Texan, and she was seriously, seriously close to giving in, and finally submitting to Doom.

Through all of the noise and the pain, through her exhaustion and hate, the world was finally coming completely into focus for Doom. She could feel Dixie's body squirming beneath her, feel her drawl of agony as she clenched hard on the cowgirl's neck. Doom herself was at her limits, exhausted, aching, but she relished ever second of pain she was able to subject this woman to. More than that, however, Doom was relishing in the futile cries of encouragement that the arena was offering to Dixie, trying hopelessly to rally behind the blond veteran.

Caught up in her own sadism, Doom's focus shifted away from the hold itself, and more onto grandstanding for the audience. Relishing in their hatred of her, Doom leaned back, displaying her proud and dominant figure situated on top of Dixie. And while her preening tightened the hold on Dixie's neck, her legs had loosed their grip on Dixie's arm, and shifted Doom's body off balance, a bit. If she was aware of this, Doom was far too busy taunting all of those in attendance, tonight, to care. All Doom had to do now, she thought, was lean back and wait to hear the Texan scream her submission.

Dixie tried to hang on, she tried to withstand the excruciating pain of the submission. It was so hard though. Even after wearing Doom down so much, the punk was still packing some crazy strength. For a second time, the cowgirl began to debate whether or not she should tap out or not, but then...then she heard the roars of the crowd, the encouragement of the audience yelling at her to escape, and to fight back.

She couldn't give in. No way, not yet. She couldn't disappoint the fans, and more importantly she couldn't let Doom, she couldn't let this awful, awful woman score a win over her. She had to fight back. She had to win.

She stifled her cries, biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from yelling out again. Her arm lashed out, letting go of Doom's choking arm, and started to grasp at the mat. If she could just summon up her strength, she could pull herself to the ropes. They weren't that far away, but as long as Doom was holding on like this it was going to be a Herculean effort to make it to them. She had to at least try though, and not just lie there and let Doom break her down.

But then...then, suddenly, she felt Doom shifting atop her, leaning back to give the crowd a better view of herself. She felt the woman's legs loosening their hold on her arm, and she knew her chance had arrived. With a mighty yell, she began to jerk her arm free, pulling it straight out of Doom's legs. She felt the punk's body growing off-balance atop her, and she knew exactly what to do. She quickly planted both of her palms against the match, and with a second, louder roar, she pushed down on that mat, trying to buck her body upwards, in an attempt to break Doom's balance completely. She hoped the sudden movement would throw Doom off of her, and in the process break the hold, but she could only hope her effort would work.

Doom was positively reveling in her situation. She took in the jeers of the audience, the disappointed shouts and cries of the audience as she dominated their girl. The feeling of Dixie, writhing in agony underneath her. Any moment now, Doom was going to hear that ridiculous accent cry out her submission, and prove to everyone watching that Doom was a force to be reckoned with, even within her first match in AFW. In spite of her reservations over the crowd, Doom was proud to put herself on display, in this moment. Not to display herself, not to titillate, but to show everyone backstage what they were going to have to contend with, once Doom was finished, here.

Doom was so caught up in this, so lost in trying to give the most dominant display possible, that she had completely forgotten about Dixie until the last possible moment. The sudden roar, seeming to come from the very base of Dixie's throat, threw Doom off, allowing the cowgirl's arm to escape her leg scissor hold. The second roar, however, accompanied by Dixie bucking upward, managed to throw Doom completely off-balance. While she tried not to lose contact entirely, Doom couldn't help but tumble backward. One arm still wrapped (rather harmlessly) around Dixie's shoulder, Doom's shoulders nonetheless collided heavily with the mat. And with the shift happened so suddenly, and Doom already so battered and off-balance, the only response she had for the moment was a long string of incredibly nasty invectives as Doom tried to get her bearings.

As soon as Doom was thrown off of her, Dixie collapsed to the mat again, facedown against the canvas. Her hair, matted down by her sweat, spread out around her like a halo, her arms lied weakly at her side. She was glad she was able to thrown the punk off of herself, but at the same time she didn't know what to do next. She was tired, and had barely any energy left. She didn't even know if she could get back up, let alone find a way to actually win this!

She lied there, listening to the roar of the crowd, screaming at her to get up, screaming for her to get back up to her feet. She relished those cheers. She was glad the crowd was still on her side. She just needed to actually do what everyone was telling her to do, no matter how hard it was, no matter how much it hurt.

The blonde lied there for several more moments, then with a weak sigh began to push herself up again, trying to get back to her hands and knees. It was baby steps. She'd worry about getting back up on her feet after she was back on her hands and knees, and then find a way to handle the rest of the match from there.

Doom lay flat on her back, her shoulders flat, trying to draw enough air into her body to get moving again. On the one hand, she was deeply irritated to have lost her grip on Dixie's neck. On the other, it felt far better than Doom would have liked to admit, to have this moment of respite It was stupid of her to let her balance slip, sloppy and weak to let Dixie escape, but it happened. Taking a deep, wet breath through grit teeth, Doom resolved to take all of the frustration she held over that out on the cowgirl's body. As soon as she could pull herself off the damned mat.

Doom raised her head just enough to look at Dixie's prone form. Doom's chest pumped up and down, rapidly, as she tried to get enough air into her body to resume her assault. Dixie's repeated beatings had taken a toll on Doom's body, tonight. Every muscle in her body ached, her eyelids fluttered reflexively with every effort Doom made to roll off her back. But she could see Dixie beginning to rise, and every instinct in her body told Doom that she had to do the same.

As Doom rolled up onto her shoulders, trying to get back on top of her feet, the roar of the crowd rang in her ears. She could hear them, cheering Dixie on, their voices trying to spur Dixie on to crush the upstart punk. The cheers made Doom grit her teeth, tightened the sneer at the edge of her lips. The more the AFW crowd cheered, the more Doom wanted to transcend her broken and battered body to crush their hopes and dreams. Finally, rolling off of her sweating, battered back, Doom performed a kip-up to her feet. Off-balance, punch drunk and exhausted, she let out a breathless laugh. Doom staggered on her feet; she attempted to move towards Dixie, but her rush to a horizontal base had left her far too imbalanced to close the distance to her foe. Still, Doom stalked her prey, ready to close in and crush her foe, the moment her feet were back beneath her …

Dixie strained herself, forcing her body to move, forcing herself up onto her hands and knees. It was so hard. Doom had pushed her completely to her limit. Her entire body was sore, was hurting. She could barely even keep her eyes open. If it wasn't for the fact that Doom was right there (and no doubt getting up onto her own feet), Dixie would have just lied there, trying to take a moment to rest. She couldn't afford that luxury though. She had to get back up on her feet. She had to get up and figure out how to end this once and for all.

The Texan finally managed to push up to her hands and knees, letting out a weak sigh of relief. That was the first step. Now she just needed to take the next one. She lifted her head up, pausing for a moment to take another slow, deep breath, when it suddenly happened. Her hands just seemed to slip out from under her. Dixie didn't know whether it was exhaustion or whether it was just her body giving up, but the moment her hands slipped she went right back down, ending up face first on the mat again. A low whimper came from her lips, as she turned her head slowly to the side, closing her eyes halfway. This was it. She knew this was the end. She was lying on her belly again, stuck on the mat, and just could not find the energy to rise again.

Dixie finally felt like giving up. She just couldn't find the strength to make another attempt to her feet. She only hoped that if Doom was standing, that the punk would finish things quickly for her.

Doom stumbled forward, unable to secure any kind of balance beneath herself. She only saw Dixie crumbled across the mat before her, breathlessly staggering across the mat. Any minute, now, Doom knew that she'd be wrapping her foe up and finally putting this match away. But as she glared down at Dixie, seeing the cowgirl lying prone and vulnerable, completely at the mercy of Doom, she couldn't help but revel in the moment.

Leaning forward, perhaps more than she should, Doom's lips curled into a sneer. Her face lingering above the cowgirl, she puckered her lips into a taunting kiss. "Come on, now," Doom said, "won't you fight back? Or is a real fight too much for you? Huh? What?" Doom fell to her hands and knees as she taunted Dixie, coming down to a horizontal base, entirely too eager to get into Dixie's face and give up every advantage, just to taunt the cowgirl. Without worrying about leverage, or her opponents, Doom kept her eyes focused on Dixie's battered body, practically salivating, ready to capitalize on whatever defense the cowgirl could muster, at this point in the match.