Post by alyadmirer on May 24, 2016 20:44:13 GMT
These days it was a rare occasion for Bethany Christian to make the trip to Bangor. The FAWN executive much preferred her plush high rise office in Orlando, with its floor to ceiling panoramic windows and lakeside view. Nevertheless, one of the scouting teams had signed a new wrestler from Open Fight Night and that meant she would attend the newcomer’s first match in-person to vet the signing.
“So you were the head of the scouting team in charge of signing this new wrestler...what’s your name again?” asked Bethany.
“Justine Adams, ma’am,” replied the associate director of talent evaluation.
“...Adams,” finished Bethany. “Before we get started, can you explain why my records show two wrestlers were signed to contracts when your instructions were clear to only offer one roster spot?”
Justine fidgeted uncomfortably. “Yoona Park, uhh, that’s the wrestler we had planned on signing...
The FAWN executive cocked an eyebrow.
“...she insisted that we also take on her opponent from that night. She was willing to surrender her entire salary in order to get the second wrestler signed. Don’t worry about the extra wrestler though, she’s just a talentless hack. We had our doctors fudge her physical examination and place her on injured reserve indefinitely. She won’t receive a paycheck and she won’t be allowed in the arena for insurance liability purposes, and soon enough she’ll quit on her own when she sees that there’s no place for her here.”
“How underhanded of you. I love it!” laughed Bethany. “Now tell me about this...Yoona Park. She must have left quite the impression for you to acquiesce to her demands.”
“Young, pretty, and brash,” surmised Justine. “Seems to know every submission hold in the book. Basically turned her opponent into a human pretzel at the end of their match.”
“What you just said could describe any one of a dozen wrestlers on our roster,” scoffed Bethany. “What makes this one special?”
“Sex. She wields sex as weapon against her opponents. And not like that maniac Severe either. Severe is sadistic, she just wants to hurt her opponents and see them suffer. That’s not sex, that’s torture. Yoona, though, well...I guess you had to have been there to see it. It was almost tender and romantic. When it was over, I swear her opponent had this little smile on her face like she just had the best lay of her life, even though she just got choked unconscious.”
Bethany chuckled, “Well now, that is interesting. The French woman is in the Jungle tonight, I say we throw them together and see what comes of it. Torture versus sex. Sadist versus romantic. What do you think will happen?”
“Severe is more experienced, and a whole lot more vicious. I think our newcomer gets the skin flayed from her back,” Justine stated matter-of-factly. “Yoona could certainly use the lesson in humility,” she added after a moment’s consideration.
--------------------------------------
“Ladies and gentlemen, for tonight’s match scheduled for one fall, introducing first our newcomer from San Diego, California, coming in at 5’7” and 128 pounds --- Yooooonnnnaaaa!”
YOONA:
For the first time in a long time, Yoona had butterflies in her stomach before a match. She wasn’t shy, not by a long shot, but she had to admit that hearing her name announced over the PA followed by the cheers of ten thousand people put her a bit on edge. It also didn’t help that this was only her second ring match, and her first match not so much a competition as a technical showcase against a live training dummy. Not that she’d ever tell Camille that, of course.
Yoona’s thoughts were interrupted by the arena PA system blaring to life. The upbeat opening strains of Girl Generation’s “Gee” promptly banished her nervousness -- nothing made her cheer up faster than singing and dancing to catchy K-pop tunes. Yoona stepped into view on the catwalk with a megawatt smile. Wearing black panties, a low cut, body-hugging tank top that extended halfway down her rump, and wraps around her hands and wrists, Yoona danced along in perfect, choreographed rhythm to the music as she pranced and gyrated her way to the ring, clearly enjoying the moment.
Although the audience was not familiar with her, they gave Yoona a raucous welcome worthy of a conquering hero. To say that Paulette Severe was not well liked by the Jungle Dwellers would be an understatement. The dominatrix had a penchant for indulging a bit too much in her sadism and sending her opponents to the hospital. As much as the fans revelled in the tawdry spectacle of sex and violence, intentionally injuring another wrestler was simply a bridge too far. Any wrestler who opposed Paulette was immediately the most popular woman in the arena, and tonight Yoona was their avatar of righteous fury.
Yoona climbed into the ring and finished her song and dance number. Turning to one section of the crowd, she winked and blew a kiss, drawing a chorus of catcalls and whistles. The salute, however, was meant for one fan in particular in the front row, a young woman in yoga leggings and a hoodie, her face largely obscured by the hood pulled loosely over her head.
CAMILLE COSWORTH:
Camille Cosworth returned Yoona’s gesture by silently putting her index finger to her puckered lips, as if to say Shhhh, this is our secret. She was prohibited from entering the premises as a wrestler due to being put on a bogus medical probation, but technically there was nothing wrong with her attending as a fan. Even so, Camille opted to exercise discretion -- brazenly flouting the rules via a technicality would surely have repercussions if the brass were to find out.
The thundercrack of a whip and an explosion of pyrotechnics announced the arrival of Paulette Severe. Unlike Yoona, Paulette did not dance or preen for the crowd as the jeers rained down. If Paulette felt any sense of joy or fun, it certainly didn’t show on her expression. The only emotion visible on the French woman’s lovely features was contempt, both for the audience and for her opponent. Paulette was a woman concerned only with business, and tonight’s business was to make the clueless tart in the ring scream and beg for mercy. Dressed in a revealing white corset with matching sheer white satin gloves, panties, and garters, the blonde strutted straight towards the ring unaccompanied by music except for the staccato clicks of her high heeled ankle boots against the steel walkway, her wavy golden tresses bouncing with every step.
PAULETTE SEVERE:
Paulette climbed into the center of the ring and cracked her whip as if to demand silence from the audience. Lounging in the corner, Yoona got her first good look at her opponent. The pictures did no justice to the voluptuous young French woman. The low cut corset and sheer underwear left very little to the imagination and Yoona couldn’t stop herself from ogling the dominatrix. Oblivious to her unflattering expression being caught on the Jumbotron, Yoona stood there staring as a dollop of saliva threatened to drool from the corner of her mouth. Camille frowned and a disapproving growl rumbled in her throat. Paulette had already earned her enmity.
Suddenly the business end of Paulette’s whip sailed through the air, cracking inches in front of Yoona’s nose and abruptly bringing her back to reality as she scrambled to wipe the drool off her own chin. Satisfied that she had her opponent’s full attention, Paulette tossed the whip aside to the referee as the bell rang to signal the official start of the match.
After anxiously checking to see that her nose was still intact, Yoona slouched against the turnbuckle once more. She made her best bedroom eyes at the French woman while suggestively waggling her hips and cocking an eyebrow.
“Voulez vous coucher avec-moi?” asked Yoona, loudly enough to be picked up by the directional microphones at ringside and amplified over the PA. Yoona couldn’t resist cracking a smug, self-satisfied grin as her one-liner drew a cheer from the audience. Lost in the roar of the crowd was the sound of Camille’s molars grinding against each other in agitation.
The dominatrix was less impressed by Yoona’s French. Taking three long strides from the center of the ring, Paulette closed the distance and slapped the Korean woman in the mouth. “A five dollar whore should know her place,” sneered Paulette as the audience collectively OOHHHHHH’ed. Camille found herself breathing a sigh of relief.
Although the slap was hard enough to draw first blood and sharply turn her head to the side, Yoona remained unflustered and unmoved from her spot corner. Yoona smiled and tilted her head up to look Paulette in the eyes, her bare feet and slouched posture leaving her with a several inch height disadvantage against the blonde’s high heeled boots.
“For a girl like you, I could go down to two dollars,” said Yoona, eliciting more cheers and laughter from the audience. Camille pinched the bridge of her nose and took several deep breaths as she slowly counted to ten in her head.
Paulette raised her right hand as if to slap Yoona again, but instead reached out and gently wiped a drop of blood from Yoona’s lip, leaving a small red stain on the thumb of her white satin glove. Paulette caressed Yoona’s cheek as she took another step closer, and now the two wrestlers were standing practically belly to belly.
“Ma cherie, I hear you like to finish your matches with, how do you say, la petite mort?” Paulette said in a soft, beguiling tone of French-accented English as her left hand snaked around Yoona’s waist and drew her even closer until they were touching at the hips.
Yoona stared blankly for several seconds.
Paulette smiled seductively at her.
The audience quietly waited with bated breath.
Camille groaned audibly.
Yoona stared blankly for several more seconds.
“I have no idea what you just said,” she finally confessed.
“ORGASM!” shouted one helpful fan, “LA PETITE MORT MEANS ORGASM!”
“THANK YOU, RANDOM STRANGER!” Yoona shouted, before turning back to Paulette. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” She licked her lips in a way that she hoped was sexy looking rather than hungry looking.
“Oh ma cherie,” cooed Paulette, “there is so much you have to learn about sex.”
Paulette’s right hand gently traced a path from Yoona’s cheek down to her left breast. “You think sex is about attraction --”
Her thumb slowly drew circles on Yoona’s left nipple as her palm cupped the breast. “-- about desire --”
Paulette’s left hand slid under Yoona’s underwear and massaged her firm buttock. “-- about pleasure.” Yoona closed her eyes and tilted her head back as a smile crept onto her face.
“But you see, ma cherie,” Paulette whispered sweetly into Yoona’s ear, “the key to sex is --”
Paulette’s right knee forcefully rammed into Yoona’s groin. Yoona’s eyes shot open, then squeezed shut again in a grimace as she crumpled to the mat with an agonized groan.
“Pain,” Paulette finished coldly, her erstwhile seductive smile twisting into a vicious sneer.
The din of ten thousand people booing filled the arena. Camille released a breath that she wasn’t even aware she had been holding for the last thirty seconds. Oh thank God, she thought, Thank God they’re going to fight now.
Paulette threw her head back in a haughty laugh. “This is why you are a whore, ma cherie. You mindlessly indulge in carnal pleasures without comprehension, without reason. It is pain that keeps us alive, and it is through pain that we may dominate others and subjugate them to our will. Without mastery of pain we are no better than animals. Tonight, I will make you understand.”
Paulette grabbed a handful of dark hair and dragged Yoona to her feet. Yoona was still too stunned from the cheap shot to put up much resistance when the dominatrix wrapped her arms around her lower rib cage. With a grunt of effort, the blonde tightened her grip and yanked Yoona several inches off the mat.
Though she was quite a bit stronger than she looked, Paulette still did not have the power necessary to force a submission via bear hug, especially not on a relatively fresh wrestler of the same size. After ragdolling and thrashing Yoona about for a few seconds, and after hearing a few satisfying moans of pain from the Korean wrestler, Paulette dipped into a slight crouch then explosively popped her hips out while arching back and tossing her victim backwards in a belly to belly suplex.
Yoona flipped through the air like a caber at a Scottish strongman competition. Having learned her lesson from Camille’s hurricanrana, she had the presence of mind to tuck her head before the crash landing and took most of the impact on her back and left shoulder. She groggily rolled towards the edge of the ring and rose to one knee, right hand grasping the middle rope for support.
Before Yoona could fully regain her footing, Paulette was upon her again with another bear hug. This time Yoona was prepared. Somewhat. As Paulette prepared to send her flying with another suplex, Yoona suddenly brought her head forward in a powerful headbutt. Instead of using the thick frontal bone of her forehead to smash the delicate features of Paulette’s face such as the nose or cheek bones, however, Yoona’s poorly aimed headbutt struck Paulette dead center on the forehead too. The jarring bone-on-bone impact made a sickening POP that caused the entire audience to wince in empathetic pain. Nevertheless, the strike had its intended effect as Paulette released Yoona and held her throbbing head while unleashing a torrent of French curse words.
“ARGH! FUCK!” cried Yoona as she also stumbled around holding her head. “BUT IT’S ALWAYS SO EFFECTIVE ON TV…!”
Camille couldn’t contain a fit of giggles as she watched the slapstick scene play out. Yoona was constantly lecturing her on not using flashy moves she saw on TV just because they looked spectacular, so she indulged in some schadenfreude as Yoona paid the price for not heeding her own advice.
Paulette recovered first. “You stupid, stupid whore!” she screamed in rage as she charged forward and sent a right hook into Yoona’s jaw. The blow sent Yoona staggering backwards until she crashed into the corner turnbuckle. As Yoona leaned against the turnbuckle for support, Paulette launched another right handed haymaker at her face. Yoona quickly brought up her left arm to block, precisely angled in a way so that the dominatrix’s fist would impact against the point of her elbow.
Paulette sharply yelped in pain as her knuckles smashed into the much larger, harder bones in Yoona’s elbow. She broke off her assault as she gripped her right wrist, checking to see if she had broken her own hand. Granted a brief reprieve, Yoona took a second to shake the cobwebs out of her head and then began her counterattack. Her right hand shot out at Paulette’s face. The French woman instinctively tilted her head to her right and Yoona’s hand sailed past without making contact.
Paulette didn’t realize until too late that it was never a punch. Yoona’s right hand clasped around the back of the dominatrix’s neck and pulled, forcing her to stoop forward, then completed the clinch by interlocking the digits on her left hand with the ones on her right. Grip secured, Yoona smashed a powerful knee strike into Paulette’s diaphragm.
Paulette gasped for breath as all the air was forced out of her lungs. She barely managed to wrap both her arms around her midsection before a second knee came knocking. Then a third, a fourth, and a fifth. Yoona was relentless in her attack, changing the angles and directions of her knee strikes, probing for a gap in Paulette’s defense. The dominatrix found herself driven backwards by the onslaught, and soon she was backed into a corner. With her opponent trapped, Yoona went into a frenzy, throwing out every kind of strike she knew and the kitchen sink to boot, even as the referee screamed at her to get her opponent off the ropes.
Up in the arena’s executive suite, Bethany Christian watched with a bemused smile on her face. “You and I have very different ideas of ‘tender’ and ‘romantic’ Adams,” she chuckled.
“This-this wasn’t at all how she fought the other night!” sputtered Justine. “That’s an entirely different fighter out there than what we scouted!”.
“Maybe you just did a poor job of scouting her,” the CEO countered. Justine could only stammer wordlessly.
Paulette was lying on the ground desperately trying to cover up as Yoona held onto the turnbuckle for support while furiously stomping at the French woman’s head and chest.
“Whatever the case, it would seem that our new recruit is as vicious as they come,” Bethany added with a grin.
The referee finally managed to separate the two wrestlers and stop the assault. Yoona went to an opposite corner and leaned against the ropes, catching her breath and appreciating her handiwork. Paulette’s opening low blow had put her in a sour mood, and Yoona was looking to finish the match in a quick and brutal manner.
Paulette crawled to her hands and knees with a groan. She had blocked and absorbed most of the headshots with her arms, but doing so came at the cost of leaving her rib cage open and undefended against Yoona’s knees and stomps. The French woman felt like a slab of beef that had just been tenderized with a jackhammer.
Seeing her opponent back on her feet, Yoona went over and dragged Paulette by the hair to the center of the ring, then sent her crashing to the mat again with a knee to the face. Yoona immediately followed up by flipping her over and applying a jujigatame arm bar. Paulette shrieked in pain as her left elbow joint started bending the wrong way.
Yoona grinned smugly. This had been even easier than her first match. She turned her head towards Camille’s section of the audience and shouted, “See! I told you I was a total badaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH----!”
Paulette had taken advantage of Yoona’s right leg lying across her upper chest by sinking her pearly white teeth into Yoona’s thigh. The Korean wrestler promptly released the arm bar and tended to her leg while Paulette quickly pulled her arm free and scrambled to her feet. The bitten area had already turned an ugly shade of purple, complete with bite marks.
“OH MY GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Yoona screamed. “WHO BITES IN --- UGH!” She was cut off when Paulette punted her in the back of her head.
The audience showered Paulette with boos as she rubbed her elbow, trying to restore feeling back in her left hand and forearm. Once she was satisfied that there was no lasting damage to her arm, the dominatrix sent two more spiteful kicks into the abdomen of her grounded, semi-conscious opponent.
Dazed and hurting, Yoona rolled into a face down prone position to protect her vulnerable belly. Paulette continued to press the offensive by sitting on Yoona’s back and locking her hands underneath Yoona’s chin. The dominatrix leaned back as far as she could, stretching and bending her opponent’s body into a perfect semi-circle with a camel clutch. Yoona’s back was sufficiently limber that the hold was not particularly distressing, although the pressure building in her neck was still extremely uncomfortable.
Confident that she had the upper hand, Paulette took advantage of her captive audience to launch into another monologue. “Yoona, Yoona, Yoona,” she whispered, “I had such high hopes for you. When I saw you gleefully humiliate and destroy that hapless little whelp on Open Fight Night with one submission after another, I thought I had found a kindred spirit. Finally, here was someone who understood the joy in dominating others, in taking from them their pride, their dignity, their power. Someone who reveled in breaking the spirit as well as the flesh!”
Yoona gripped Paulette’s wrists and strained against them, trying to pry the dominatrix’s hands from her throat.
“Then you had to ruin it all,” Paulette hissed acrimoniously. “That trollop actually enjoyed it when you finished her off. And now you share your bed with her! Don’t think for a second that I didn’t recognize her in the crowd! That look on her face whenever I touch you, that’s jealousy! You broke her and now she has the temerity to get jealous, as if she has the right to expect anything from you! As if you belong to her! This is what happens when you give them pleasure instead of pain! They start to think they’re the ones in control! They start to dictate -- ARRGH!”
With a sudden burst of effort, Yoona ripped free of Paulette’s grip and bucked the blonde off her back. Both wrestlers quickly rose back to their feet, and Yoona rubbed the back of her sore neck. Without a moment’s hesitation the dominatrix lunged at Yoona, looking to take off her head with a massive clothesline.
The clothesline was too telegraphed to be effective. Yoona ducked under Paulette’s outstretched right arm, and pivoted so that she was standing behind the French woman. Yoona quickly secured a standing rear naked choke, making sure not to leave any part of her arm vulnerable to another bite. She was still too careless with her positioning, however, as she painfully found out when Paulette forcefully stomped a high-heeled boot into the instep of her bare foot.
Yoona let loose an inhuman screech and collapsed to the mat clutching her right foot. The stiletto heel had not impaled her foot as she immediately feared, nor did it even break the skin, but the injury was excruciating nonetheless.
Paulette was quickly upon her again, dragging Yoona upright by the arm. The dominatrix wrenched Yoona up by the waist and flipped the Korean wrestler up onto her right shoulder, securing a Canadian backbreaker.
“UGGH!” groaned Yoona as her lumbar vertebrae were crushed against the French woman’s shoulder.
“You are very flexible, ma cherie,” the dominatrix taunted, “but even you must have your limits.” Paulette dipped into a half squat then sprung back up, sending another jolt through Yoona’s body and eliciting a gasp of pain. Deciding that she liked the sound of Yoona in agony, Paulette repeated her squat maneuver three more times. With each successive shock to her spine, Yoona’s gasps came out a little more desperate and a little more anguished than previously. Nevertheless, she vehemently shook her head when the referee asked if she wanted to quit.
Paulette laughed. “You have some fight in you yet, ma cherie. That will make it all the more satisfying when I crush your will.” The French woman turned so that both of them were facing Camille in the audience, and then as a final taunt, she fondled Yoona’s right breast with her left hand even while she maintained the backbreaker. This time, however, Camille’s expression did not betray any feelings of resentment or jealousy. Her face was frozen in a mask of fear and concern, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.
“I want that harlot to see the look on your face when I break you, the way you should have broken her,” Paulette whispered menacingly.
Suddenly the French woman dropped to her knees. Instead of a muted gasp, the massive jolt forced a full blown scream from Yoona as her spine audibly crunched. Her body bounced a couple of inches off of Paulette’s right shoulder, then lifelessly flopped to the mat. The audience groaned in despair as their hopes for vicarious retribution against the dominatrix laid motionless in the ring. Camille bit her bottom lip and tried to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.
Paulette was not finished, however. She raised Yoona to a seated position with her legs splayed out in a V in front of her, then secured both of the Korean wrestler’s arms in a double chicken wing hold and flipped forward into a bridge, completing her variant of the Cattle Mutilation which she appropriately dubbed La Soumission.
Yoona was forced to bend forward until her forehead was touching the mat between her knees. Even for a wrestler like Yoona who was seemingly made of rubber, the stretching and tearing in her hamstrings, glutes, spine, and shoulders were horrendous. The pressure on her already injured lumbar vertebrae was particularly tortuous. A cry of surrender made it halfway up her throat before she grit her teeth together and swallowed it. Any other time she would have submitted, but Yoona was determined to not start off her official FAWN career with a loss, at least not while she was still conscious.
Taking several deep breaths to clear her head, Yoona began to formulate an escape plan. In her current position with her legs out in front of her she had no leverage to resist, so first she had to get her legs under her hips. Slowly, agonizingly, Yoona spread her legs out more and more until she was in a full center split with her upper body pressed against the ground. Then she rolled her hips forward and pulled her legs back in. Now she had her legs laid out straight behind her rather than in front, which at least alleviated the pressure in her hamstrings, glutes, and spine.
Step one was complete, she had successfully transitioned from La Soumission into a standard Cattle Mutilation. There was still the matter of the double chicken wing hold threatening to dislocate both her shoulders, however. Yoona took about half a minute to catch her breath and mentally prepare herself for the more difficult second part of her escape.
Free to use her legs for leverage again, Yoona began rolling her body left and right. The twisting and turning made the pain in her shoulders so much worse, but she knew this was the only way out of her current predicament. Paulette struggled to maintain her balance in her bridge while Yoona was rocking the both of them left and right. When she sensed Paulette was teetering, Yoona suddenly rolled to her left as hard as she could, screaming from the effort. Paulette swore loudly in French as she toppled over. Now the dominatrix was lying face down with Yoona lying face up on top of her. With even more leverage in this position, Yoona torqued her body and ripped her arms free, first right then left, finally escaping the previously inescapable La Soumission.
The audience erupted into cheers at the completion of Yoona’s Houdini act. Camille laughed incredulously, and giddy with emotion, hugged the first person she could get her hands on. The lanky, pimply-faced high schooler hesitated only a moment before he hugged her back with one arm, the other hand snapping a selfie of Camille’s embrace with his smartphone. He uploaded the picture to Facebook and Instagram, with the overly ambitious caption My future wife <3 <3 <3.
Meanwhile in the ring both wrestlers were back on their feet and circling each other. Yoona struck first, landing a front kick to the gut that doubled over the dominatrix. As she closed the distance to follow up, however, Paulette suddenly reached up and poked Yoona in the right eye with her thumb. Yoona cried out in pain and stopped the attack to hold her face as the fans once again showered Paulette with jeers for her cheap shot tactics.
Paulette didn’t care what the peasants in the cheap seats thought of her. Taking advantage of her stunned opponent, Paulette grabbed Yoona’s right arm and draped it over her neck. Then she placed her left hand between Yoona’s thighs and hoisted the Korean wrestler up across her shoulders into a torture rack. The dominatrix bounced her victim a few times to add to the agony.
Yoona once again had to fight back the urge to submit, although she knew her already brutalized spine couldn’t take much more punishment. She had to act quickly, before the submission hold sapped even more of her strength. Taking a deep breath, Yoona simultaneously cocked back her left arm and left leg. Then in one explosive move, she violently crunched both limbs together, smashing Paulette’s skull between her knee and elbow.
The dominatrix immediately went rubber-legged and fell on her back, landing on Yoona. Yoona winced and grimaced from the inadvertent back body drop, but she kept her composure. She quickly scissored Paulette’s left arm between her two legs, and then tucked Paulette’s right forearm underneath her own right arm pit. Paulette was dazed but not out, and she struggled and strained against Yoona’s double arm crucifix hold.
“LET GO OF ME, WHORE!” she bellowed. “I’M GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF WHEN I -- !”
Paulette’s threat was interrupted by Yoona’s left elbow smashing into her temple.
And then another elbow.
Then another.
And another.
Yoona felt Paulette’s body go limp and stop struggling after the third elbow, but she threw another half dozen just to be sure. Finally, she released the crucifix and exhaustedly covered the dominatrix in a simple cross body pin as she signaled for the referee to start counting.
ONE
TWO
THREE
It was a formality, the referee could have counted to three hundred.
“The winner of this match, by pinfall -- Yoooooonnnnaaaa!” enthusiastically announced the PA.
The audience exploded into cheers and a standing ovation. Any time Paulette Severe was laid out unconscious was a time for celebration, as far as the Jungle Dwellers were concerned. Camille was so excited and relieved that she once again grabbed the lucky high schooler next to her and kissed him right on the lips.
Yoona pushed herself up to a kneeling position and took a deep breath. The roar of ten thousand people, hearing her name over the PA, the excitement of barely squeaking out a win, it was all overwhelming. She was practically intoxicated from the adrenaline and endorphins coursing through her veins. Yoona suddenly found herself inexplicably and powerfully aroused. The French woman was not wrong about how Yoona liked to end her matches.
Yoona waddled over on her knees to the still unconscious Paulette and straddled her face. The roar of the audience reached a second crescendo as they realized what Yoona was preparing to do. Yoona hesitated, however. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Camille kissing what appeared to be a scrawny kid no older than 18. Yoona promptly stood up from Paulette’s face, to the disappointment of the crowd.
“Call the medic,” she instructed the referee as she gestured at Paulette. Without another word, Yoona stepped out of the ring and made a beeline for Camille.
Unsure of what came over herself, Camille had finally broken off her kiss, and now she was feeling very, very awkward. “I--uh--s-sorry about that,” she stammered.
“Will you marry me?” asked the teenager, emboldened by the kiss.
“What?!” yelled Camille, “Look, kid -- ooofff!”
Camille was totally caught off guard when Yoona tackled her to the floor. “Y-Yoona! I--I--”
“Sex. Now,” demanded Yoona as she pulled the hoodie up and over Camille’s head and tossed it on the ground.
“What are you doing?!” Camille asked, completely flabbergasted.
Yoona pulled off Camille’s shoes and socks, and started tugging on the waistband of her yoga leggings. “Get naked,” she commanded.
“Yoona! No! There are ten thousand people here --” Camille protested.
“I know, isn’t that so hot?” Yoona licked the soles of Camille’s feet, trying to put her in the mood.
“This is embarrassing! Knock it o----ooooooooohhhh wow that feels good,” Camille moaned while still trying to stop Yoona from peeling off her pants.
“Fine, keep your pants on. Doesn’t matter,” said Yoona. She sat down facing Camille then scissored their legs together and started thrusting her hips.
Camille covered her face with the discarded hoodie when she noticed the camera crew closing in. Not only did she want to hide her face from the executives, she also didn’t want her impending O-face being broadcast on TV for all her family and friends to see. She chewed on a mouthful of sweater and moaned loudly.
A handful of minutes later, both women had suffered the Little Death.
“Let’s get out of here,” panted Camille as she helped Yoona to her feet. They collected Camille’s discarded clothes then sprinted for the exit as the fans showered them with chants of “ME NEXT!”
Bethany Christian impassively watched everything unfold from the executive suite. “Well, that’s certainly the first time we’ve ever provided that kind of up close and personal fan-service,” she mused. “Adams, please send a memo telling Yoona to try to refrain from sexually assaulting random fans in the future. This one seems to have enjoyed it -- really enjoyed it actually, I could hear her even with that ridiculous sweater over her face -- but it could be a legal quagmire if someone presses charges.”
“Yes ma’am,” replied Justine, “I’ll make sure she knows to not do that in the future.” She pulled out her phone and quickly typed an email to Yoona.
Yoona, congratulations on your victory tonight. We must ask, however, that in the future you do not engage in any kind of physical interaction with the fans that may be misconstrued as sexual misconduct. Consider this your first and last warning. What you did tonight was not acceptable as it puts both yourself and the entire federation at great risk of potential lawsuits.
“What did you think of the match?” asked Justine after she sent the email.
“Not impressed, Adams,” the executive replied flatly, “Not impressed at all.”
Justine blanched. “W-what? Why is that? I thought the newcomer showed a great variety of skills.”
“Yes, that’s the problem,” replied Bethany. “She had all kinds of skills that were not in your scouting report. You did not, for example, mention anything about her kickboxing or her extraordinary flexibility, and that’s ultimately what won her the match tonight.”
“Ma’am, I-I don’t see how that makes Yoona a less impressive wrestler,” sputtered Justine.
“Adams, you imbecile,” sighed Bethany, “I didn’t come here to evaluate Park. Do you know why? Because she sent us videos of her wrestling weeks ago. I’ve already watched them with de Cyr, and we already made the decision to send someone to San Diego to personally recruit her, except she showed up on your doorstep before our man got out to California. We would have gotten her even without you, so don’t for a second think that signing her to a contract is some sort of great victory for you.”
Justine looked absolutely flummoxed.
“The real reason I’m here,” continued Bethany, “is to evaluate your ability as a talent scout, and I must say I am gravely disappointed. Your report on her was woefully incomplete because you clearly never watched any of the videos she sent in. One of them was literally just a seven minute highlight reel of flying knee strikes to the face, set to the music of Pachelbel’s Canon. How can you not know about her kickboxing after that? I shudder to think of how many diamonds in the rough you’ve missed because you couldn’t bother to do your job and watch some video.”
Justine stammered wordlessly as she tried and failed to find a way to defend herself.
“Let me put this to you as clearly as I can. From this day onwards, if we find out you let even a single talented wrestler fall through the cracks, you are done at FAWN and we will make sure you never work in this business again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to catch the red-eye back to Orlando,” concluded the executive as she walked out of the room.
Justine slumped into her chair as she considered the gravity of Bethany Christian’s words. She had worked so hard to climb the corporate ladder to get to where she was today, and now that was all in danger, all because of Yoona. If that little slut hadn’t walked into Open Fight Night, then none of this would have happened, she thought to herself.
Suddenly her phone buzzed with a new notification. It was an email reply from Yoona.
doesnt matter had sex ^________^
Flippant and aggravating as always. Justine thought for a minute about how to get back at the disrespectful tramp who was endangering her career. She typed another email to Yoona.
I am scheduling you for a rematch with Paulette Severe. For the rematch it will be no holds barred and win via submissions only. I want to see some of those skills you showed on Open Fight Night. If you win I’ll take your friend off injured reserve and give her a match of her choosing as well.
Justine sent the email then closed her eyes and fantasized about the dominatrix whipping Yoona until she was a sobbing, bloody mess. Just the thought of it brought a smile to her lips.
Her phone buzzed again. Another reply from Yoona.
lol k
Something in those four characters made Justine’s blood boil, and she smashed her cell phone against the hardwood floor. She couldn’t wait until Paulette destroyed her.
“So you were the head of the scouting team in charge of signing this new wrestler...what’s your name again?” asked Bethany.
“Justine Adams, ma’am,” replied the associate director of talent evaluation.
“...Adams,” finished Bethany. “Before we get started, can you explain why my records show two wrestlers were signed to contracts when your instructions were clear to only offer one roster spot?”
Justine fidgeted uncomfortably. “Yoona Park, uhh, that’s the wrestler we had planned on signing...
The FAWN executive cocked an eyebrow.
“...she insisted that we also take on her opponent from that night. She was willing to surrender her entire salary in order to get the second wrestler signed. Don’t worry about the extra wrestler though, she’s just a talentless hack. We had our doctors fudge her physical examination and place her on injured reserve indefinitely. She won’t receive a paycheck and she won’t be allowed in the arena for insurance liability purposes, and soon enough she’ll quit on her own when she sees that there’s no place for her here.”
“How underhanded of you. I love it!” laughed Bethany. “Now tell me about this...Yoona Park. She must have left quite the impression for you to acquiesce to her demands.”
“Young, pretty, and brash,” surmised Justine. “Seems to know every submission hold in the book. Basically turned her opponent into a human pretzel at the end of their match.”
“What you just said could describe any one of a dozen wrestlers on our roster,” scoffed Bethany. “What makes this one special?”
“Sex. She wields sex as weapon against her opponents. And not like that maniac Severe either. Severe is sadistic, she just wants to hurt her opponents and see them suffer. That’s not sex, that’s torture. Yoona, though, well...I guess you had to have been there to see it. It was almost tender and romantic. When it was over, I swear her opponent had this little smile on her face like she just had the best lay of her life, even though she just got choked unconscious.”
Bethany chuckled, “Well now, that is interesting. The French woman is in the Jungle tonight, I say we throw them together and see what comes of it. Torture versus sex. Sadist versus romantic. What do you think will happen?”
“Severe is more experienced, and a whole lot more vicious. I think our newcomer gets the skin flayed from her back,” Justine stated matter-of-factly. “Yoona could certainly use the lesson in humility,” she added after a moment’s consideration.
--------------------------------------
“Ladies and gentlemen, for tonight’s match scheduled for one fall, introducing first our newcomer from San Diego, California, coming in at 5’7” and 128 pounds --- Yooooonnnnaaaa!”
YOONA:
For the first time in a long time, Yoona had butterflies in her stomach before a match. She wasn’t shy, not by a long shot, but she had to admit that hearing her name announced over the PA followed by the cheers of ten thousand people put her a bit on edge. It also didn’t help that this was only her second ring match, and her first match not so much a competition as a technical showcase against a live training dummy. Not that she’d ever tell Camille that, of course.
Yoona’s thoughts were interrupted by the arena PA system blaring to life. The upbeat opening strains of Girl Generation’s “Gee” promptly banished her nervousness -- nothing made her cheer up faster than singing and dancing to catchy K-pop tunes. Yoona stepped into view on the catwalk with a megawatt smile. Wearing black panties, a low cut, body-hugging tank top that extended halfway down her rump, and wraps around her hands and wrists, Yoona danced along in perfect, choreographed rhythm to the music as she pranced and gyrated her way to the ring, clearly enjoying the moment.
Although the audience was not familiar with her, they gave Yoona a raucous welcome worthy of a conquering hero. To say that Paulette Severe was not well liked by the Jungle Dwellers would be an understatement. The dominatrix had a penchant for indulging a bit too much in her sadism and sending her opponents to the hospital. As much as the fans revelled in the tawdry spectacle of sex and violence, intentionally injuring another wrestler was simply a bridge too far. Any wrestler who opposed Paulette was immediately the most popular woman in the arena, and tonight Yoona was their avatar of righteous fury.
Yoona climbed into the ring and finished her song and dance number. Turning to one section of the crowd, she winked and blew a kiss, drawing a chorus of catcalls and whistles. The salute, however, was meant for one fan in particular in the front row, a young woman in yoga leggings and a hoodie, her face largely obscured by the hood pulled loosely over her head.
CAMILLE COSWORTH:
Camille Cosworth returned Yoona’s gesture by silently putting her index finger to her puckered lips, as if to say Shhhh, this is our secret. She was prohibited from entering the premises as a wrestler due to being put on a bogus medical probation, but technically there was nothing wrong with her attending as a fan. Even so, Camille opted to exercise discretion -- brazenly flouting the rules via a technicality would surely have repercussions if the brass were to find out.
The thundercrack of a whip and an explosion of pyrotechnics announced the arrival of Paulette Severe. Unlike Yoona, Paulette did not dance or preen for the crowd as the jeers rained down. If Paulette felt any sense of joy or fun, it certainly didn’t show on her expression. The only emotion visible on the French woman’s lovely features was contempt, both for the audience and for her opponent. Paulette was a woman concerned only with business, and tonight’s business was to make the clueless tart in the ring scream and beg for mercy. Dressed in a revealing white corset with matching sheer white satin gloves, panties, and garters, the blonde strutted straight towards the ring unaccompanied by music except for the staccato clicks of her high heeled ankle boots against the steel walkway, her wavy golden tresses bouncing with every step.
PAULETTE SEVERE:
Paulette climbed into the center of the ring and cracked her whip as if to demand silence from the audience. Lounging in the corner, Yoona got her first good look at her opponent. The pictures did no justice to the voluptuous young French woman. The low cut corset and sheer underwear left very little to the imagination and Yoona couldn’t stop herself from ogling the dominatrix. Oblivious to her unflattering expression being caught on the Jumbotron, Yoona stood there staring as a dollop of saliva threatened to drool from the corner of her mouth. Camille frowned and a disapproving growl rumbled in her throat. Paulette had already earned her enmity.
Suddenly the business end of Paulette’s whip sailed through the air, cracking inches in front of Yoona’s nose and abruptly bringing her back to reality as she scrambled to wipe the drool off her own chin. Satisfied that she had her opponent’s full attention, Paulette tossed the whip aside to the referee as the bell rang to signal the official start of the match.
After anxiously checking to see that her nose was still intact, Yoona slouched against the turnbuckle once more. She made her best bedroom eyes at the French woman while suggestively waggling her hips and cocking an eyebrow.
“Voulez vous coucher avec-moi?” asked Yoona, loudly enough to be picked up by the directional microphones at ringside and amplified over the PA. Yoona couldn’t resist cracking a smug, self-satisfied grin as her one-liner drew a cheer from the audience. Lost in the roar of the crowd was the sound of Camille’s molars grinding against each other in agitation.
The dominatrix was less impressed by Yoona’s French. Taking three long strides from the center of the ring, Paulette closed the distance and slapped the Korean woman in the mouth. “A five dollar whore should know her place,” sneered Paulette as the audience collectively OOHHHHHH’ed. Camille found herself breathing a sigh of relief.
Although the slap was hard enough to draw first blood and sharply turn her head to the side, Yoona remained unflustered and unmoved from her spot corner. Yoona smiled and tilted her head up to look Paulette in the eyes, her bare feet and slouched posture leaving her with a several inch height disadvantage against the blonde’s high heeled boots.
“For a girl like you, I could go down to two dollars,” said Yoona, eliciting more cheers and laughter from the audience. Camille pinched the bridge of her nose and took several deep breaths as she slowly counted to ten in her head.
Paulette raised her right hand as if to slap Yoona again, but instead reached out and gently wiped a drop of blood from Yoona’s lip, leaving a small red stain on the thumb of her white satin glove. Paulette caressed Yoona’s cheek as she took another step closer, and now the two wrestlers were standing practically belly to belly.
“Ma cherie, I hear you like to finish your matches with, how do you say, la petite mort?” Paulette said in a soft, beguiling tone of French-accented English as her left hand snaked around Yoona’s waist and drew her even closer until they were touching at the hips.
Yoona stared blankly for several seconds.
Paulette smiled seductively at her.
The audience quietly waited with bated breath.
Camille groaned audibly.
Yoona stared blankly for several more seconds.
“I have no idea what you just said,” she finally confessed.
“ORGASM!” shouted one helpful fan, “LA PETITE MORT MEANS ORGASM!”
“THANK YOU, RANDOM STRANGER!” Yoona shouted, before turning back to Paulette. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” She licked her lips in a way that she hoped was sexy looking rather than hungry looking.
“Oh ma cherie,” cooed Paulette, “there is so much you have to learn about sex.”
Paulette’s right hand gently traced a path from Yoona’s cheek down to her left breast. “You think sex is about attraction --”
Her thumb slowly drew circles on Yoona’s left nipple as her palm cupped the breast. “-- about desire --”
Paulette’s left hand slid under Yoona’s underwear and massaged her firm buttock. “-- about pleasure.” Yoona closed her eyes and tilted her head back as a smile crept onto her face.
“But you see, ma cherie,” Paulette whispered sweetly into Yoona’s ear, “the key to sex is --”
Paulette’s right knee forcefully rammed into Yoona’s groin. Yoona’s eyes shot open, then squeezed shut again in a grimace as she crumpled to the mat with an agonized groan.
“Pain,” Paulette finished coldly, her erstwhile seductive smile twisting into a vicious sneer.
The din of ten thousand people booing filled the arena. Camille released a breath that she wasn’t even aware she had been holding for the last thirty seconds. Oh thank God, she thought, Thank God they’re going to fight now.
Paulette threw her head back in a haughty laugh. “This is why you are a whore, ma cherie. You mindlessly indulge in carnal pleasures without comprehension, without reason. It is pain that keeps us alive, and it is through pain that we may dominate others and subjugate them to our will. Without mastery of pain we are no better than animals. Tonight, I will make you understand.”
Paulette grabbed a handful of dark hair and dragged Yoona to her feet. Yoona was still too stunned from the cheap shot to put up much resistance when the dominatrix wrapped her arms around her lower rib cage. With a grunt of effort, the blonde tightened her grip and yanked Yoona several inches off the mat.
Though she was quite a bit stronger than she looked, Paulette still did not have the power necessary to force a submission via bear hug, especially not on a relatively fresh wrestler of the same size. After ragdolling and thrashing Yoona about for a few seconds, and after hearing a few satisfying moans of pain from the Korean wrestler, Paulette dipped into a slight crouch then explosively popped her hips out while arching back and tossing her victim backwards in a belly to belly suplex.
Yoona flipped through the air like a caber at a Scottish strongman competition. Having learned her lesson from Camille’s hurricanrana, she had the presence of mind to tuck her head before the crash landing and took most of the impact on her back and left shoulder. She groggily rolled towards the edge of the ring and rose to one knee, right hand grasping the middle rope for support.
Before Yoona could fully regain her footing, Paulette was upon her again with another bear hug. This time Yoona was prepared. Somewhat. As Paulette prepared to send her flying with another suplex, Yoona suddenly brought her head forward in a powerful headbutt. Instead of using the thick frontal bone of her forehead to smash the delicate features of Paulette’s face such as the nose or cheek bones, however, Yoona’s poorly aimed headbutt struck Paulette dead center on the forehead too. The jarring bone-on-bone impact made a sickening POP that caused the entire audience to wince in empathetic pain. Nevertheless, the strike had its intended effect as Paulette released Yoona and held her throbbing head while unleashing a torrent of French curse words.
“ARGH! FUCK!” cried Yoona as she also stumbled around holding her head. “BUT IT’S ALWAYS SO EFFECTIVE ON TV…!”
Camille couldn’t contain a fit of giggles as she watched the slapstick scene play out. Yoona was constantly lecturing her on not using flashy moves she saw on TV just because they looked spectacular, so she indulged in some schadenfreude as Yoona paid the price for not heeding her own advice.
Paulette recovered first. “You stupid, stupid whore!” she screamed in rage as she charged forward and sent a right hook into Yoona’s jaw. The blow sent Yoona staggering backwards until she crashed into the corner turnbuckle. As Yoona leaned against the turnbuckle for support, Paulette launched another right handed haymaker at her face. Yoona quickly brought up her left arm to block, precisely angled in a way so that the dominatrix’s fist would impact against the point of her elbow.
Paulette sharply yelped in pain as her knuckles smashed into the much larger, harder bones in Yoona’s elbow. She broke off her assault as she gripped her right wrist, checking to see if she had broken her own hand. Granted a brief reprieve, Yoona took a second to shake the cobwebs out of her head and then began her counterattack. Her right hand shot out at Paulette’s face. The French woman instinctively tilted her head to her right and Yoona’s hand sailed past without making contact.
Paulette didn’t realize until too late that it was never a punch. Yoona’s right hand clasped around the back of the dominatrix’s neck and pulled, forcing her to stoop forward, then completed the clinch by interlocking the digits on her left hand with the ones on her right. Grip secured, Yoona smashed a powerful knee strike into Paulette’s diaphragm.
Paulette gasped for breath as all the air was forced out of her lungs. She barely managed to wrap both her arms around her midsection before a second knee came knocking. Then a third, a fourth, and a fifth. Yoona was relentless in her attack, changing the angles and directions of her knee strikes, probing for a gap in Paulette’s defense. The dominatrix found herself driven backwards by the onslaught, and soon she was backed into a corner. With her opponent trapped, Yoona went into a frenzy, throwing out every kind of strike she knew and the kitchen sink to boot, even as the referee screamed at her to get her opponent off the ropes.
Up in the arena’s executive suite, Bethany Christian watched with a bemused smile on her face. “You and I have very different ideas of ‘tender’ and ‘romantic’ Adams,” she chuckled.
“This-this wasn’t at all how she fought the other night!” sputtered Justine. “That’s an entirely different fighter out there than what we scouted!”.
“Maybe you just did a poor job of scouting her,” the CEO countered. Justine could only stammer wordlessly.
Paulette was lying on the ground desperately trying to cover up as Yoona held onto the turnbuckle for support while furiously stomping at the French woman’s head and chest.
“Whatever the case, it would seem that our new recruit is as vicious as they come,” Bethany added with a grin.
The referee finally managed to separate the two wrestlers and stop the assault. Yoona went to an opposite corner and leaned against the ropes, catching her breath and appreciating her handiwork. Paulette’s opening low blow had put her in a sour mood, and Yoona was looking to finish the match in a quick and brutal manner.
Paulette crawled to her hands and knees with a groan. She had blocked and absorbed most of the headshots with her arms, but doing so came at the cost of leaving her rib cage open and undefended against Yoona’s knees and stomps. The French woman felt like a slab of beef that had just been tenderized with a jackhammer.
Seeing her opponent back on her feet, Yoona went over and dragged Paulette by the hair to the center of the ring, then sent her crashing to the mat again with a knee to the face. Yoona immediately followed up by flipping her over and applying a jujigatame arm bar. Paulette shrieked in pain as her left elbow joint started bending the wrong way.
Yoona grinned smugly. This had been even easier than her first match. She turned her head towards Camille’s section of the audience and shouted, “See! I told you I was a total badaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH----!”
Paulette had taken advantage of Yoona’s right leg lying across her upper chest by sinking her pearly white teeth into Yoona’s thigh. The Korean wrestler promptly released the arm bar and tended to her leg while Paulette quickly pulled her arm free and scrambled to her feet. The bitten area had already turned an ugly shade of purple, complete with bite marks.
“OH MY GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Yoona screamed. “WHO BITES IN --- UGH!” She was cut off when Paulette punted her in the back of her head.
The audience showered Paulette with boos as she rubbed her elbow, trying to restore feeling back in her left hand and forearm. Once she was satisfied that there was no lasting damage to her arm, the dominatrix sent two more spiteful kicks into the abdomen of her grounded, semi-conscious opponent.
Dazed and hurting, Yoona rolled into a face down prone position to protect her vulnerable belly. Paulette continued to press the offensive by sitting on Yoona’s back and locking her hands underneath Yoona’s chin. The dominatrix leaned back as far as she could, stretching and bending her opponent’s body into a perfect semi-circle with a camel clutch. Yoona’s back was sufficiently limber that the hold was not particularly distressing, although the pressure building in her neck was still extremely uncomfortable.
Confident that she had the upper hand, Paulette took advantage of her captive audience to launch into another monologue. “Yoona, Yoona, Yoona,” she whispered, “I had such high hopes for you. When I saw you gleefully humiliate and destroy that hapless little whelp on Open Fight Night with one submission after another, I thought I had found a kindred spirit. Finally, here was someone who understood the joy in dominating others, in taking from them their pride, their dignity, their power. Someone who reveled in breaking the spirit as well as the flesh!”
Yoona gripped Paulette’s wrists and strained against them, trying to pry the dominatrix’s hands from her throat.
“Then you had to ruin it all,” Paulette hissed acrimoniously. “That trollop actually enjoyed it when you finished her off. And now you share your bed with her! Don’t think for a second that I didn’t recognize her in the crowd! That look on her face whenever I touch you, that’s jealousy! You broke her and now she has the temerity to get jealous, as if she has the right to expect anything from you! As if you belong to her! This is what happens when you give them pleasure instead of pain! They start to think they’re the ones in control! They start to dictate -- ARRGH!”
With a sudden burst of effort, Yoona ripped free of Paulette’s grip and bucked the blonde off her back. Both wrestlers quickly rose back to their feet, and Yoona rubbed the back of her sore neck. Without a moment’s hesitation the dominatrix lunged at Yoona, looking to take off her head with a massive clothesline.
The clothesline was too telegraphed to be effective. Yoona ducked under Paulette’s outstretched right arm, and pivoted so that she was standing behind the French woman. Yoona quickly secured a standing rear naked choke, making sure not to leave any part of her arm vulnerable to another bite. She was still too careless with her positioning, however, as she painfully found out when Paulette forcefully stomped a high-heeled boot into the instep of her bare foot.
Yoona let loose an inhuman screech and collapsed to the mat clutching her right foot. The stiletto heel had not impaled her foot as she immediately feared, nor did it even break the skin, but the injury was excruciating nonetheless.
Paulette was quickly upon her again, dragging Yoona upright by the arm. The dominatrix wrenched Yoona up by the waist and flipped the Korean wrestler up onto her right shoulder, securing a Canadian backbreaker.
“UGGH!” groaned Yoona as her lumbar vertebrae were crushed against the French woman’s shoulder.
“You are very flexible, ma cherie,” the dominatrix taunted, “but even you must have your limits.” Paulette dipped into a half squat then sprung back up, sending another jolt through Yoona’s body and eliciting a gasp of pain. Deciding that she liked the sound of Yoona in agony, Paulette repeated her squat maneuver three more times. With each successive shock to her spine, Yoona’s gasps came out a little more desperate and a little more anguished than previously. Nevertheless, she vehemently shook her head when the referee asked if she wanted to quit.
Paulette laughed. “You have some fight in you yet, ma cherie. That will make it all the more satisfying when I crush your will.” The French woman turned so that both of them were facing Camille in the audience, and then as a final taunt, she fondled Yoona’s right breast with her left hand even while she maintained the backbreaker. This time, however, Camille’s expression did not betray any feelings of resentment or jealousy. Her face was frozen in a mask of fear and concern, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.
“I want that harlot to see the look on your face when I break you, the way you should have broken her,” Paulette whispered menacingly.
Suddenly the French woman dropped to her knees. Instead of a muted gasp, the massive jolt forced a full blown scream from Yoona as her spine audibly crunched. Her body bounced a couple of inches off of Paulette’s right shoulder, then lifelessly flopped to the mat. The audience groaned in despair as their hopes for vicarious retribution against the dominatrix laid motionless in the ring. Camille bit her bottom lip and tried to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.
Paulette was not finished, however. She raised Yoona to a seated position with her legs splayed out in a V in front of her, then secured both of the Korean wrestler’s arms in a double chicken wing hold and flipped forward into a bridge, completing her variant of the Cattle Mutilation which she appropriately dubbed La Soumission.
Yoona was forced to bend forward until her forehead was touching the mat between her knees. Even for a wrestler like Yoona who was seemingly made of rubber, the stretching and tearing in her hamstrings, glutes, spine, and shoulders were horrendous. The pressure on her already injured lumbar vertebrae was particularly tortuous. A cry of surrender made it halfway up her throat before she grit her teeth together and swallowed it. Any other time she would have submitted, but Yoona was determined to not start off her official FAWN career with a loss, at least not while she was still conscious.
Taking several deep breaths to clear her head, Yoona began to formulate an escape plan. In her current position with her legs out in front of her she had no leverage to resist, so first she had to get her legs under her hips. Slowly, agonizingly, Yoona spread her legs out more and more until she was in a full center split with her upper body pressed against the ground. Then she rolled her hips forward and pulled her legs back in. Now she had her legs laid out straight behind her rather than in front, which at least alleviated the pressure in her hamstrings, glutes, and spine.
Step one was complete, she had successfully transitioned from La Soumission into a standard Cattle Mutilation. There was still the matter of the double chicken wing hold threatening to dislocate both her shoulders, however. Yoona took about half a minute to catch her breath and mentally prepare herself for the more difficult second part of her escape.
Free to use her legs for leverage again, Yoona began rolling her body left and right. The twisting and turning made the pain in her shoulders so much worse, but she knew this was the only way out of her current predicament. Paulette struggled to maintain her balance in her bridge while Yoona was rocking the both of them left and right. When she sensed Paulette was teetering, Yoona suddenly rolled to her left as hard as she could, screaming from the effort. Paulette swore loudly in French as she toppled over. Now the dominatrix was lying face down with Yoona lying face up on top of her. With even more leverage in this position, Yoona torqued her body and ripped her arms free, first right then left, finally escaping the previously inescapable La Soumission.
The audience erupted into cheers at the completion of Yoona’s Houdini act. Camille laughed incredulously, and giddy with emotion, hugged the first person she could get her hands on. The lanky, pimply-faced high schooler hesitated only a moment before he hugged her back with one arm, the other hand snapping a selfie of Camille’s embrace with his smartphone. He uploaded the picture to Facebook and Instagram, with the overly ambitious caption My future wife <3 <3 <3.
Meanwhile in the ring both wrestlers were back on their feet and circling each other. Yoona struck first, landing a front kick to the gut that doubled over the dominatrix. As she closed the distance to follow up, however, Paulette suddenly reached up and poked Yoona in the right eye with her thumb. Yoona cried out in pain and stopped the attack to hold her face as the fans once again showered Paulette with jeers for her cheap shot tactics.
Paulette didn’t care what the peasants in the cheap seats thought of her. Taking advantage of her stunned opponent, Paulette grabbed Yoona’s right arm and draped it over her neck. Then she placed her left hand between Yoona’s thighs and hoisted the Korean wrestler up across her shoulders into a torture rack. The dominatrix bounced her victim a few times to add to the agony.
Yoona once again had to fight back the urge to submit, although she knew her already brutalized spine couldn’t take much more punishment. She had to act quickly, before the submission hold sapped even more of her strength. Taking a deep breath, Yoona simultaneously cocked back her left arm and left leg. Then in one explosive move, she violently crunched both limbs together, smashing Paulette’s skull between her knee and elbow.
The dominatrix immediately went rubber-legged and fell on her back, landing on Yoona. Yoona winced and grimaced from the inadvertent back body drop, but she kept her composure. She quickly scissored Paulette’s left arm between her two legs, and then tucked Paulette’s right forearm underneath her own right arm pit. Paulette was dazed but not out, and she struggled and strained against Yoona’s double arm crucifix hold.
“LET GO OF ME, WHORE!” she bellowed. “I’M GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF WHEN I -- !”
Paulette’s threat was interrupted by Yoona’s left elbow smashing into her temple.
And then another elbow.
Then another.
And another.
Yoona felt Paulette’s body go limp and stop struggling after the third elbow, but she threw another half dozen just to be sure. Finally, she released the crucifix and exhaustedly covered the dominatrix in a simple cross body pin as she signaled for the referee to start counting.
ONE
TWO
THREE
It was a formality, the referee could have counted to three hundred.
“The winner of this match, by pinfall -- Yoooooonnnnaaaa!” enthusiastically announced the PA.
The audience exploded into cheers and a standing ovation. Any time Paulette Severe was laid out unconscious was a time for celebration, as far as the Jungle Dwellers were concerned. Camille was so excited and relieved that she once again grabbed the lucky high schooler next to her and kissed him right on the lips.
Yoona pushed herself up to a kneeling position and took a deep breath. The roar of ten thousand people, hearing her name over the PA, the excitement of barely squeaking out a win, it was all overwhelming. She was practically intoxicated from the adrenaline and endorphins coursing through her veins. Yoona suddenly found herself inexplicably and powerfully aroused. The French woman was not wrong about how Yoona liked to end her matches.
Yoona waddled over on her knees to the still unconscious Paulette and straddled her face. The roar of the audience reached a second crescendo as they realized what Yoona was preparing to do. Yoona hesitated, however. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Camille kissing what appeared to be a scrawny kid no older than 18. Yoona promptly stood up from Paulette’s face, to the disappointment of the crowd.
“Call the medic,” she instructed the referee as she gestured at Paulette. Without another word, Yoona stepped out of the ring and made a beeline for Camille.
Unsure of what came over herself, Camille had finally broken off her kiss, and now she was feeling very, very awkward. “I--uh--s-sorry about that,” she stammered.
“Will you marry me?” asked the teenager, emboldened by the kiss.
“What?!” yelled Camille, “Look, kid -- ooofff!”
Camille was totally caught off guard when Yoona tackled her to the floor. “Y-Yoona! I--I--”
“Sex. Now,” demanded Yoona as she pulled the hoodie up and over Camille’s head and tossed it on the ground.
“What are you doing?!” Camille asked, completely flabbergasted.
Yoona pulled off Camille’s shoes and socks, and started tugging on the waistband of her yoga leggings. “Get naked,” she commanded.
“Yoona! No! There are ten thousand people here --” Camille protested.
“I know, isn’t that so hot?” Yoona licked the soles of Camille’s feet, trying to put her in the mood.
“This is embarrassing! Knock it o----ooooooooohhhh wow that feels good,” Camille moaned while still trying to stop Yoona from peeling off her pants.
“Fine, keep your pants on. Doesn’t matter,” said Yoona. She sat down facing Camille then scissored their legs together and started thrusting her hips.
Camille covered her face with the discarded hoodie when she noticed the camera crew closing in. Not only did she want to hide her face from the executives, she also didn’t want her impending O-face being broadcast on TV for all her family and friends to see. She chewed on a mouthful of sweater and moaned loudly.
A handful of minutes later, both women had suffered the Little Death.
“Let’s get out of here,” panted Camille as she helped Yoona to her feet. They collected Camille’s discarded clothes then sprinted for the exit as the fans showered them with chants of “ME NEXT!”
Bethany Christian impassively watched everything unfold from the executive suite. “Well, that’s certainly the first time we’ve ever provided that kind of up close and personal fan-service,” she mused. “Adams, please send a memo telling Yoona to try to refrain from sexually assaulting random fans in the future. This one seems to have enjoyed it -- really enjoyed it actually, I could hear her even with that ridiculous sweater over her face -- but it could be a legal quagmire if someone presses charges.”
“Yes ma’am,” replied Justine, “I’ll make sure she knows to not do that in the future.” She pulled out her phone and quickly typed an email to Yoona.
Yoona, congratulations on your victory tonight. We must ask, however, that in the future you do not engage in any kind of physical interaction with the fans that may be misconstrued as sexual misconduct. Consider this your first and last warning. What you did tonight was not acceptable as it puts both yourself and the entire federation at great risk of potential lawsuits.
“What did you think of the match?” asked Justine after she sent the email.
“Not impressed, Adams,” the executive replied flatly, “Not impressed at all.”
Justine blanched. “W-what? Why is that? I thought the newcomer showed a great variety of skills.”
“Yes, that’s the problem,” replied Bethany. “She had all kinds of skills that were not in your scouting report. You did not, for example, mention anything about her kickboxing or her extraordinary flexibility, and that’s ultimately what won her the match tonight.”
“Ma’am, I-I don’t see how that makes Yoona a less impressive wrestler,” sputtered Justine.
“Adams, you imbecile,” sighed Bethany, “I didn’t come here to evaluate Park. Do you know why? Because she sent us videos of her wrestling weeks ago. I’ve already watched them with de Cyr, and we already made the decision to send someone to San Diego to personally recruit her, except she showed up on your doorstep before our man got out to California. We would have gotten her even without you, so don’t for a second think that signing her to a contract is some sort of great victory for you.”
Justine looked absolutely flummoxed.
“The real reason I’m here,” continued Bethany, “is to evaluate your ability as a talent scout, and I must say I am gravely disappointed. Your report on her was woefully incomplete because you clearly never watched any of the videos she sent in. One of them was literally just a seven minute highlight reel of flying knee strikes to the face, set to the music of Pachelbel’s Canon. How can you not know about her kickboxing after that? I shudder to think of how many diamonds in the rough you’ve missed because you couldn’t bother to do your job and watch some video.”
Justine stammered wordlessly as she tried and failed to find a way to defend herself.
“Let me put this to you as clearly as I can. From this day onwards, if we find out you let even a single talented wrestler fall through the cracks, you are done at FAWN and we will make sure you never work in this business again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to catch the red-eye back to Orlando,” concluded the executive as she walked out of the room.
Justine slumped into her chair as she considered the gravity of Bethany Christian’s words. She had worked so hard to climb the corporate ladder to get to where she was today, and now that was all in danger, all because of Yoona. If that little slut hadn’t walked into Open Fight Night, then none of this would have happened, she thought to herself.
Suddenly her phone buzzed with a new notification. It was an email reply from Yoona.
doesnt matter had sex ^________^
Flippant and aggravating as always. Justine thought for a minute about how to get back at the disrespectful tramp who was endangering her career. She typed another email to Yoona.
I am scheduling you for a rematch with Paulette Severe. For the rematch it will be no holds barred and win via submissions only. I want to see some of those skills you showed on Open Fight Night. If you win I’ll take your friend off injured reserve and give her a match of her choosing as well.
Justine sent the email then closed her eyes and fantasized about the dominatrix whipping Yoona until she was a sobbing, bloody mess. Just the thought of it brought a smile to her lips.
Her phone buzzed again. Another reply from Yoona.
lol k
Something in those four characters made Justine’s blood boil, and she smashed her cell phone against the hardwood floor. She couldn’t wait until Paulette destroyed her.
