Mud Match: Sydney Deschain vs. Yoona Park

---The Slaughtered Lamb---


YOONA PARK


CAMILLE COSWORTH


“I can’t believe you chose mud as a venue, babe,” Yoona said while Camille wrapped her hands. “I thought you weren’t into the tawdry shit and this is about as fucking tawdry as you can get.”

“Syd chose this, not me,” Cosworth answered as she gave Park’s handwraps a final check and then looked around the room. The center area had been cleared of tables and chairs in order to place a large inflatable pool about ten feet in diameter that would serve as the battleground. On the other side of the bar, Sydney was chatting it up with a few of the wrestlers who had accepted Yoona’s open invitation for anyone on the roster to attend.

SYDNEY DESCHAIN


More notable, however, was the fact that all of Park’s guests seemed to be in Deschain’s corner. Despite being popular with the fans, the Korean was not well-liked within the locker room due to her flagrant disregard for seniority and her penchant for making an embarrassing spectacle out of her fallen opponents for her own amusement and titillation. Even the trio of executives in attendance at Yoona’s personal invitation were firmly anti-Park, although they at least maintained a veneer of neutrality for the sake of appearances.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Yoona?” Camille asked with a fretful tone while she braided her girlfriend’s long black hair into a sturdy bun. “Look around, everyone’s against us. And there’s no way that Sydney chose mud wrestling just for the heck of it. She must have some sort of plan --”

Yoona smiled slightly at her girlfriend’s concern, then she put her hands on Cosworth’s hips and reeled her in close.

“You’re right, babe. Grandma’s holding all the cards. She’s got crowd support. She’s got homefield advantage. She’s got a plan. She’s got more years of wrestling experience than I have of being alive. Every advantage she could want, she has. But me? I’ve got something much better.”

Park raised her right fist and lightly thumped it against Camille’s sternum twice.

“I’ve got hope. You and me against the world… I’d take those odds any fucking day of the week.”

Finished tending to the Korean’s hair, Camille cupped both hands around Yoona’s face and put their foreheads together. Not quite able to ad-lib words of encouragement suitable for the biggest match of her girlfriend’s young career against an opponent that had won twelve straight against the cream of the crop that FAWN had to offer, she elected to quote from Park’s favorite TV show.

“What do we say to the God of Death?”

“Fuck off, douchebag.”

“Eloquent as always.”

The couple shared a soft chuckle, then Yoona turned towards the inflatable pool with arms outstretched in a T shape.

“Born too early to explore the stars. Born too late to explore the Earth,” she announced for all to hear, a hint of wistful melancholy in her voice.

Then an insolent, lopsided sneer spread across her face, and she pointed a finger at her opponent who was already waiting expectantly inside the mud-filled ring.

“Born just in the nick of fucking time to kick your fat head back to the age of dinosaurs!” Park called out, the feigned melancholy evaporating away to reveal her usual flippant mischievousness.

“Yeah, because that worked so well for you last time,” Sydney snorted as she stood with hands on hips, decidedly unimpressed.

At first glance, there were visible differences from when she had last seen the young Korean in person over a year ago. With time spent on a beach traded for time spent in a professional grade gym, Park was accordingly a good deal less tanned all over and a good deal more defined in her abdomen and shoulders. Despite the stronger physique, Deschain was both irritated and disappointed that Yoona had made so few adjustments to her style even though fighting in sand was worlds apart from fighting in a ring. To Sydney, a failure to adapt was a sign of complacency, and there was nothing she abhorred more in a young wrestler.

Not that this particular young wrestler cared what she thought, however.

Dismissing Deschain’s comment with a roll of her eyes and a left-handed jerk-off motion, Yoona stepped over the wall of the inflatable pool and into the mud. The cold, viscous slop came up to mid-shin, and Park only needed a couple of seconds to decide that she hated the feeling of it oozing and squishing beneath her feet.

“Great. Fucking great,” she muttered to herself before shouting at Sydney, “You just made me ruin my pedicure, asshole! You couldn’t pick something like a bouncy castle or a ball pit?!”

“Be glad that I’m even giving you a match, kitten,” Deschain scoffed. “As far as I’m concerned, the puzzle of Yoona Park was solved a long time ago. I thought you’d add something to your arsenal in all this time, but I guess that’s my fault for overestimating you.”

“Get off your high horse, grandma,” Yoona retorted. “You’ve been using the same tired-ass techniques for so long that they have hieroglyphics of your moves!”

“Are you going to actually wrestle or did you plan on talking me into submission?”

“Stupid fucking question. You know exactly how I’m going to get your submission, and there isn’t a goddamned thing you can do about it!”

Pleasantries exchanged, Yoona stepped into the breech with her left leg forward and her right fist chambered. Sydney brought her arms up to defend against the telegraphed blow, and that was exactly when Park rapidly shifted gears to twist her torso the other way and piston a pair of Left Uppercuts into her opponent’s unguarded abdomen. The punches forced Deschain back a step and a half while she adjusted her guard to protect against a third identical blow, and Yoona immediately swung her right leg forward and up in a high Snap Kick aimed directly at her opponent’s chin.

The goop around her leg slowed the kick considerably, however, thereby giving Sydney ample time to sidestep out of the way, leaving Park’s foot to hit nothing but air -- although she did succeed in inadvertently flinging mud over the gathered spectators. Unfortunately for Yoona, she had forgotten to account for both the viscosity and the slipperiness of the mud, and when she tried to plant her right leg again after her whiffed kick, her right foot kept sliding forward until she fell into a klutzy, accidental set of Front Splits.

The small crowd groaned in sympathetic pain at what would have been a badly pulled groin and six weeks on the injured list for most ladies, although Park suffered this indignity with little more than a tweaked ego. Rather than any physical ailment, she seemed more concerned by the mud that now covered almost the entirety of her lower half. She started to groan in disgust when she felt the sludge seeping into her undercarriage, and that was when Sydney dipped her right hand into the mud and cracked an open handed slap across Yoona’s left cheek, eliciting a furious screech from the Korean as she tried and failed to grab Deschain before the veteran backed out of range.

“FUCK!” Park spat with frustration as she slapped her hands in the mud, wiped her cheek on her shoulder, and stood back up. “Count yourself lucky, grandma. I would have punted your head across the fucking Pacific if we were on my beach in San Diego.”

“Guess what, Yoona?” Sydney blithely said as she sidestepped a lunging Superman Punch that was again impaired by the lack of solid footing. “You’re NOT on your beach in San Diego.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Yoona growled as she pivoted and clinched her opponent with a Muay Thai clasp and prepared to test Deschain’s intestinal fortitude with a series of gut-churning Knee Strikes.

“So stop fighting like you are,” Sydney replied -- the goopy lubricant on Park’s hands letting her slip out of the clinch before even the first strike -- and then she countered with a brawny Side Headlock. “Or else you’re going to keep getting embarrassed.”

To drive that last point home, she squeezed Yoona’s temples between her ribs and her right bicep before kicking her own legs out in front and dropping down to send Park face first into the mud with a Bulldog. The two wrestlers landed with a wet-sounding splat, and Yoona immediately bounced up to hands and knees as she began spitting the gunk out of her mouth.

She was still working on getting the taste off her lips when Sydney sat on the small of Park’s back, sending her into the mud once more with a plop. Straddling her opponent, Deschain reached forward to lace her fingers underneath Yoona’s chin and then yanked backwards on the Camel Clutch to bend the limber Korean ingenue into an semicircular arc.

“Quit wasting time with your shitty, ineffective holds!” Park snarled, sounding far more angry than hurt.

Sydney knew that Yoona was too fresh and too flexible to be in danger of submission, so she did not bother asking. Instead, she switched to a one-handed grip on Park’s chin and used her other hand to reach backwards and deliver a series of humiliating swats to Yoona’s firm derrière.

“This is what you get for being a mouthy brat who doesn't respect her elders.”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

A few of the spectating wrestlers began to giggle, which only rankled Yoona even more.

“Laugh it up now, you chucklefucks! I'll fucking wreck you all!” she screamed, although the threat was much less menacing than she'd hoped, given that she was in the process of being spanked.

Ever the faithful girlfriend, Camille defied the gigglers and the eye rolls from management to smack a supportive hand against the side of the pit. “C’mon Yoona, you got this! Don’t let her get under your skin!”

Deschain noted this, shifted her slappin’ hand back to Park’s chin and reefed back on the Camel Clutch until the Korean lovely was staring up into her face.

“You don’t have the slightest idea how lucky you are to have her, do you?”

Yoona snarled, smacked her hands against the older woman’s thighs and dug as hard as she could, but the slick mud robbed her talons of the worst of their bite.

“Go f*ck yourself, Oldie Hawn. I don’t need a fossil like you telling me how special she GGUUHHPPHMM MMMRRRGHHH!”

The Mangler ‘plopped’ Park’s head down into the mud and held it there for a good five seconds. Then she lifted Yoona’s noggin back into view and put her lips to the catfighter’s ear.

“Call me a fossil one more time, little girl. See what it gets you.”

“Goddamn, you been sucking off dinosaurs again, bytch? Your breath smells like a fossil dug out of a septic tanKEEERRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!”

Sydney let go of the Chinlock, pulled her hands out wide and then CLAPPED ‘em against Park’s ears in a ferocious Bell Ringer! Disoriented almost to the point of nausea, Yoona could only set her hands in the mud and gasp after Sydney rose to her feet. She was still fighting through the worst of it when the Marvel grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her head back at an unpleasant angle. To make things worse, Syd planted her right knee against the nape of Yoona’s neck, then pushed onto her toes and dropped down to GLORP the younger woman’s face into the mud for the second time in less than a minute.

A handful of hair plucked Park’s mug from the sludge and allowed Syd to ask, “Anything else to say, wise-ass?”

“Fuuuuhhh… go f*ck a stegosaurus, dino douchNNNNGGGGHHH!”

Sydney reared back and cuffed a nasty Forearm Smash to the side of her opponent’s head. Yoona managed to keep her features clear of the mud this time around, but it took so much of her focus to do so that she couldn’t stop the other brunette from seizing her ankles. The vast majority of those assembled cheered when Sydney rolled the Korean onto her back, only Camille blanched, understandably worried that Deschain might target Yoona’s feet. That’s why she actually loosed a relieved sigh when Sydney stepped through Park’s ‘V’d stems and planted her right foot beside her opponent’s right hip.

In the next instant she crossed Yoona’s left leg across her intruding stem and tucked that shin into the pit of Park’s right knee, which she promptly claimed in both hands. With Yoona’s usually dangerous stems tied up in something very much like a Figure Four, Deschain rolled the docile battler over onto her tummy and neatly angled Park’s right shin against her own. In a standard wrestling ring, the penthouse or even the beach this alone wouldn’t have been problematic, however the depth of the mud meant Yoona had to push up to keep her face out of the sludge, which in turn meant an unpleasant (albeit it far from unbearable) strain on her back.

After a moment to assess the situation, Syd looked down at her foe and issued a simple command. “Hands, Yoona.”

“Yep, that’s what these are, Skeletor.” Park sassed without an instant’s hesitation. “And they’ll be wrecking your shyt sooner than latOOWWW!”

The veteran leaned down and SMACKED her palms against Park’s kidneys.

“Hands, Yoona.”

“You’ve got two of your own, don’t ya, fugNNGGGHH!”

Sydney slapped the Korean’s sides hard enough to elicit the faintest grimace from Cassandra Vale as she poured the latest round of drinks.

“One more chance, brat. Give me your hands. Or suffer.”

“Oooohhhh, well now you’ve just gone and piqued my curiositTIIIERRRRRRGGGHHHH F*CK YOU!”

Deschain grabbed Park’s briefs in both hands and yanked ‘em up and forward at a vile angle. Forced to defend against the wedgie less that ancient shytbird try to saw her in half, Park reached back with one hand and cursed something most unkind when Sydney seized her wrist. The other hand was corralled immediately thereafter and then her spine was puuuuuuuuulled back in a modified Surfboard that left the beach fighter tied in a gummy knot.

The Mangler let her younger rival feel the strain for the better part of fifteen seconds before she jostled the hold a little harder. “You give, Yoona?”

Park didn’t even bother to shake her head, “Why the hell would I do that? I’ve dealt with worse strain in Caity Mason’s yoga NNNNGGHHHH!”

The rest of the guests moaned along with Cosworth when Sydney pulled back even farther and planted her left foot between Yoona’s shoulders. Pushing down on Park’s torso even as she relinquished the Wristlocks, Syd SPLORTED Yoona’s mug into the muck with a hatefully emphatic Curbstomp. To make matters worse, Deschain kept her stampin’ foot planted in the aftermath, letting Park gurgle and retch until she stepped off.

CURBSTOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRupuW-tNMw

Yoona raised her head immediately, the lovely brunette sucking wind something fierce in the aftermath of the dizzying impact. In no particular mood for to show mercy, Syd plunged a hand into Park’s hair and hauled her out of the mud in fits and starts. For once too woozy to formulate any trash talk, Yoona only hissed when the veteran slipped her left arm around the Korean’s neck and palmed her right hand against the back of Yoona’s head. Palming her own left bicep for extra leverage, Syd bore down on the Sleeper and leaned forward, forcing Park to carry even more weight.

Instinct kicked in at once as Yoona’s right arm came up and gouged several elbow strikes into the other brunette’s right hip. Syd grimaced, soaked it up and kinked Yoona’s neck a little harder. Choking off a whine of frustration behind clenched teeth, Park pounded the older woman’s side several more times, but couldn’t convince Deschain to break her grip. Shifting to another tactic, she braced both hands against the underside of Sydney’s left arm and pushed up until the crook of her elbow was snug against Yoona’s mou--

“OOOWWWW!” Syd snarled as Park chomped down. “One warning, Yoona. Stop bitERRRRGGGGHHHHH!”

Camille was about to cheer her girlfriend’s tenacious escape when Deschain dipped her knees and popped her hips to fling Yoona up, over and down into a facedown belly flop with the oozy mud. The THWHAP-PLOP of Park’s landing was all but drowned out by the small crowd, who seemed to be savoring the sight of the arrogant exotique taken apart bit by bit.

SLEEPER SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHpYDp-MX6g

Sydney didn’t acknowledge the support, she kept her eyes on Yoona as the black clad battler slowly rose to all fours.

“Do you want to call it, Yoona?” she asked softly.

“Do you?” Park growled without looking up.

Syd sighed and shook her head, “Then get up and wrestle.”

Somehow hating that simple command more than any of the indignities heaped upon her by Paulette Severe, Yoona clambered to her feet, raised her hands and twitched one finger.

“Whenever you’re ready, grandma.”

“You’re the one in a hole, Park. Come on, try to dig yourself--”

Park reared back on her left heel and brought her right leg whipping up n’ around to-- Syd ducked, caught the sailing limb over her left shoulder and wrapped her arms around the back of Yoona’s head in an awkward standing Cradle.

Forehead to forehead, she muttered, “You never should’ve asked for this, YoNNEERRRRRGAAAAHHH!”

Yoona darted forward, twisted her head to one side and sank her teeth into the bridge of the other brunette’s nose! Gnawing and chewing until the Marvel was forced to release her clasp, Park stuffed a single Kneelift into Deschain’s midriff, then pulled her into a rough but effective Front Facelock. Then she kicked her legs forward and dropped down onto her back to SPLAT-THUNK Sydney’s forehead into the mud with a DDT!

DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv4gBuDXARw

Keeping hold of the Front Facelock as she laid in the mud on her back after the sloppy impact of the DDT, Yoona wrapped her thighs around her opponent’s waist and crossed her ankles while laying on her back in the mud. Pushing out with with her legs while arching her back, Park tried to forcefully remove Sydney’s head with a grounded Guillotine Choke, although the choke portion of the submission hold was perhaps redundant with the Mangler’s head submerged in the mud.

“What’s the matter, asshats?!” she called to the murmuring peanut gallery. “Shit’s not funny any more? Go ahead, laugh! Next person whoMRRRRGGLGGGLLGGG!!!”

Yoona was mid sentence when Deschain palmed her face with one hand and forced her head under the sludge as well. Both ladies thrashed about and gurgled for about fifteen seconds before Park disengaged her hooks and shoved Sydney aside, allowing each wrestler to regroup and refill her lungs with oxygen with heavy pants.

Frustrated by her opponent’s escape, the Korean launched herself forward with a growl, attempting to re-engage with a Shoulder Tackle. Sydney recovered a bit faster than she expected, however, and Deschain was able to get upright moments before Park’s shoulder drove into her chest. Splaying her legs out behind her like a pair of kickstands to avoid the takedown, the slippery footing nevertheless meant she was driven backwards by Yoona’s momentum until her heels slid up against the wall of the inflatable pool.

Adjusting her grip to lock Park in an Elbow and Collar tie up, Sydney pushed off against the wall with one foot to reverse direction and regain some of the turf she had ceded until Yoona managed to clamp on the brakes, putting the two wrestlers at a deadlock more or less in the center of the pool.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” Deschain casually stated, seemingly nonplussed as her opponent treated her to a less-than-legal yank of her hair.

“You’ve gotten older,” Park snorted, releasing her hair hold to shove the older brunette away with a rough Pie-Face.

Sydney shook the excess mud off her hands as best she could, then wiped her face and clucked her tongue. ”What would you have without me, Yoona? Without FAWN?”

“Unparalleled beauty, a killer body, peerless fighting skills, piles of money, a totally bitchin’ car,” the smirking, insolent Korean immediately rattled off. “All eight hundred and two Pokemon, the complete works of Jean-Claude Van Damme on DVD and Blu Ray, a five star eBay rating, a seven terabyte porn library, the record for fastest knockout at the Kumite --”

“And what wouldn’t you have?” Deschain interrupted, gesturing towards Camille with a slight nod of her head.

The smirk immediately disappeared from Yoona’s face and she reflexively clenched her fists.

“If you have something to say, just fucking say it,” she said coldly.

“You’ve got more than you deserve. And instead of thanking your lucky stars, you’ve become even more of a wretched, miserable cunt than the brat I smothered out on that beach --”

Park had heard enough. While normally not one to slap because she felt that punches or elbows to the face were much more straightforward and effective, Yoona could not deny that there was something viscerally satisfying and cathartic about cracking an open handed smack across Deschain’s cheek that turned the Mangler’s head ninety degrees to the side.

Turning her back to her opponent, Park reached over her right shoulder to grasp Sydney’s head in a Three Quarters Facelock and tried to flip the veteran to the ground with a Snapmare, only for Deschain to block her throw by forcefully pushing both hands against Yoona’s hips. Park let out a low growl of frustration and was about to attempt the first Ace Crusher of her career when a short, stubby punch to her right kidney made her yelp in pain and loosen her grip. Sydney slammed home another punch to Yoona’s floating ribs, then she hooked her left knee over Park’s left hip while tucking the ingenue’s right bicep under her left arm.

“What’d I say about wasting time with your shitty, ineffective holds?!” Yoona huffed. “This shit doesn’t even hurrrRRRRRTTTT!”

Against most other wrestlers, Park could have stayed in an Abdominal Stretch indefinitely with a smile and a wink. Deschain, however, was not like most wrestlers. The wily veteran knew all the subtle tricks for positioning and weight distribution that let her both neutralize the common Hip Toss escape while also twisting and stretching the sinews of even the most elastic opponents those last couple of inches that separated uncomfortable from painful. Judging from the high-pitched wail that had just escaped from her lips, Yoona had shot right past painful and landed directly in excruciating.

“Hang in there!” Camille called out, trying and failing to hide the concern in her voice.

“Calm your tits, babe! I’m wearing her downnnNNRRRGGGHH GOD! FUCK!” Park screamed as Sydney placed a hand on her right hip then squatted down to increase the stretch even more.

“Give it up,” Deschain said as she applied an Abdominal Claw to her opponent’s taut oblique muscles. “You have your limits and I know how to find them.”

Feeling the searing heat in muscles she never even knew she had, Yoona locked eyes with her girlfriend at the edge of the inflatable pool. Looking at Cosworth somehow always made her feel better, even when she was slowly getting torn apart.

“Wipe that look off your face, Cam! Grandma’s going to tap out any second noooOOOWWW OWWW!”

Of course, sometimes better was still terrible.

After working the hold for another ten seconds or so, Sydney released the Abdominal Claw to grasp Yoona’s jaw, and turned the trapped wrestler’s head around so that they were face-to-face.

“How long before you drag Camille down with you, Park? Before she’s caught in the crossfire of all the vitriol that’s directed at you?”

“Fight through it, Yoona! You’ve been through worse!” Camille shouted, trying to be as helpful as possible short of physically intervening.

“She really is too good for you,” Deschain said flatly.

“I know,” Yoona whispered through clenched teeth.

Perhaps caught off-guard by the decidedly un-cheeky response, Sydney failed to defend herself when Park reached up with her free left arm and stabbed her fingers into Deschain’s throat. Suddenly unable to get air through her windpipe, Sydney finally released the Abdominal Stretch as her hands instinctively shot to her neck.

“HAHAHA! EXACTLY AS PLANNED!” Yoona facetiously exclaimed, shifting back to impudent in a fraction of a second.

She took a brief moment to massage her strained abdominal muscles, then secured another Three Quarters Facelock on the wheezing, defenseless Mangler. This time Sydney offered no resistance and Park was able to successfully complete the Snapmare, sending Deschain into a front somersault that ended with the seat of her trunks splashing into the mud. Still keeping her hands around the sides of her opponent’s head even after the throw, Yoona yanked Sydney backward while shooting her right leg forward, and knee met skull halfway with a sickening impact that had everyone in the room cringing.

With Deschain curled into a fetal position cradling her head in her arms, Park took the time to treat herself to a more extensive abdominal massage. The hold had her in much more dire straits than she would have admitted, and while she had surrendered to Abdominal Stretches before, that was all back when she was first learning to fight. Nowadays, she was embarrassed by just the thought of tapping out to what most wrestlers considered a rest hold, and that meant she had to reassert her dominance and assuage her ego.

Yoona pulled Sydney into a sitting position, then knelt down behind her. She wrenched Deschain’s arms backwards as if to apply a Surfboard but then she trapped the limbs by tucking them into the pits of her own knees, the Mangler still woozy from taking a knee to the back of the head to muster any resistance. Having firmly established control for the time being, Park gripped Sydney’s top in both hands then forcefully yanked in opposite directions, tearing the material apart and leaving Deschain topless.

Meanwhile at poolside, Camille sighed so heavily that she nearly collapsed her lungs. Cassandra wordlessly offered her a pat on the back and a double shot of some mystery alcohol, which Cosworth immediately gulped down while she watched Yoona help herself to two handfuls of her opponent’s breasts.

A few hard squeezes that straddled the line between playful and vindictive quickly dissipated the concussive fog in Sydney’s mind, and she groaned in displeasure, “Hrnngghh… d-don’t do things you’re going to regret… P-Park...”

“Quit your whining,” Yoona chortled. “Old ladies should be grateful for any action they can get!”

The Korean focused her attention on her opponent’s now-erect nipples, pinching the buds between thumb and forefinger, and the subsequent pushing, pulling, rubbing, and twisting soon had Sydney biting her bottom lip while she fitfully squirmed and kicked her feet in the mud to no avail. Finally, after what felt like hours to Deschain but what was more like thirty seconds to everyone else, Park got bored of the nipple attack and decided to move on to something else.

Releasing her pincers, Yoona reached forward to snare one of Sydney’s ankles in each hand before leaning back once more to wrench Deschain's legs vertical with a double legged Stump Puller.

“Don't tap out yet, Skeletor,” Park taunted. “This is just the foreplay.”

Yoona spread her arms out in a T, adding a Wishbone to the already painful Stump Puller and earning a few groans of agony from the trapped wrestler. Sydney was in no danger of submitting just yet, though she knew that her hamstrings and groin were weakening by the second, making her more and more vulnerable to Park’s finishing maneuver. With all four limbs tied up, however, there was little she could do except to suffer, bide her time, and wait for Yoona to give her an opening.

Perhaps as payback for the Abdominal Stretch, Park worked her opponent’s legs like a rowing machine for a while longer -- opening and closing, forward and back, left and right. After she felt had drained the last bit of resistance from those once-dangerous limbs, Yoona let go of the Wishbone Stump Puller. Unhooking Sydney’s arms from behind her knees, Park shoved Deschain into the mud face-up and quickly pivoted into a straddle on her opponent’s hips. Yoona reached back to grab Sydney’s right ankle, leaned forward to complete the leg stretch, and fell directly into the Mangler’s trap.

As soon as the Korean leaned forward, Deschain’s left hand shot up and clamped around her cheeks in a vise-like grip. Sydney squeezed with all her strength, forcing Yoona’s mouth to open, and then with her right hand she shoved a glob of mud directly into Park’s gaping maw. The surprise mud-feeding distracted Yoona enough to lose her balance, allowing Deschain to wrench her right ankle free and then toss the both of them into a barrel roll that resulted in a reversal of their positions, putting the younger wrestler on her back and underneath the veteran. Yoona was still coughing up her latest meal when Sydney clubbed a forearm across her face, sending her into a daze.

“I warned you not to do something you’d regret,” Deschain said ominously as she hooked her fingers under Park’s skimpy bikini top and tore it away with one hand.

Tossing Park’s top away earned the veteran battler a small round of applause from the guests, but Sydney paid it no mind, as the whole of her attention was honed in on tormenting her flexible foe. Hooking her legs around and beneath Yoona’s, the Mangler collected the other brunette’s wrists in both hands and pinned them well overhead even as she stretched the Double Leg Grapevine wide. As with the Abdominal Stretch before it, the Korean’s normal resistance to such stretching attacks seemed null and void as Sydney dusted off tricks she’d used to submit ballerinas, swimmers, contortionists and even a remarkably sadistic acrobat. Putting incredible strain on Park’s hips, inner thighs and groin, Sydney leaned down and in, forcing her mud-slicked breasts into Yoona’s upturned features.

Park fought it at once, the limber lovely twisting squirming to keep her passages free of the debilitating décolletage. She managed to twist her head loose after about ten seconds and though she didn’t much care for the ragged sound of her breathing, Park was still smiling when she huffed, “You actually got more up top than I thought, sweet cheeks! I’m really gonna enjoy working them over while I’m sitting on your ERRRRRRGGGHH!”

Syd pried Yoona’s legs even farther apart and grrrrrrrrrround her tits against the catfighter’s cheek to force her even deeper into the muck.

“What the f*ck are you doing?” Yoona grunted. “Pins don’t count and this isn’t nearly enough to make me--”

Park’s mouth snapped shut when Syd started to count, “One… two… three…” The strategist part of Yoona’s brain told her to calm the hell down, don’t bother wasting any extra energy escaping a hold that couldn’t win her rival the match. But the warrior part of Yoona’s brain, the part that absolutely could not STAND being controlled in such a domineering fashion, twisted and bucked like a live wire, her straining glutes making heavy smack-smack-smack sounds in the mud. To make matters worse, the Korean’s efforts couldn’t disrupt the superfluous pin, meaning she sat there and fumed while the Technical Marvel ran up the score.

“Four… five… six… seven… eight… nine… ten! You’re done, baby!”

Yoona shook her head in disgust as the older wrestler pushed up without relinquishing the Grapevine. “Big f*cking deal, a hog pinned me in the mud. How could I have ever seen that comGUURRRHHHK!”

Deschain halved her control on Park’s wrists and repaid another indignity in the form of a short, open-fingered thrust to the hollow of Yoona’s throat. Retching in the most unpleasant of fashions, Park twisted out from beneath her attacker and curled into a loose ball as Syd got to her feet.

“Do you quit, Yoona?” Syd asked as the snarky sexbomb’s respiration returned to something like normal.

Yoona shook her head ‘no’, then added, “I’m done submitting to you, Deschain. Deal with it.”

“I suppose I’ll have to.” Situated by the Korean’s head, Sydney kicked her left leg forward, let the shadow fall over her opponent, then dropped to her tush to THWHUMP the meatiest part of her thigh across the side of Park’s neck.

A few rows away, Camille grimaced and rubbed at the side of her neck without realizing. “C’mon Yoona,” she called over the quiet buzz of Deschain supporters, “You can get back into this, you just have to catch your breath.”

Sydney thought that was probably accurate, which was why she quickly PWAAAKED a heavy Hammer Punch into the tawny battler’s ribs. Yoona coughed and doubled up a little more, allowing Deschain to pluck her from the muck without the slightest bit of resistance. Resisting a strong urge to simply vent all her anger on the catfighter’s most sensitive parts, Syd instead pumped the broadest part of her thigh across Park’s tummy and hooked an arm over one shoulder. Slipping her other arm between Yoona’s stems, Deschain scooped the tawny stunner onto her shoulder for a Body Slam, only instead of depositing her in the mud she stamped to the far side of their goopy arena and carefully laid Park across the wide, slightly rough edge of the inflatable pit.

“You know how to use your knees properly, that’s a real talent,” Syd admitted even as she swung around on Park’s right side and grabbed a double handful of hair.

“Huuuuhhh…. I know how to use everything properly, grandma,” Yoona moaned as she struggled to clear the cobwebs. “And I’ll be happy to show you them all, starting with my asSSSSEEERRRRGGGGHHH!”

Syd pounded her left knee into the base of Yoona’s neck with a THWUMP that made those assembled cringe. “You’re the one in need of a lesson, Park. Sydney said after two more Kneelifts. “A little humility is going to look good on you.”

Cringing into the overhead lights, Yoona reached back with both hands and grabbed Sydney’s wrists, “That’s it, I’m finishing you with the Front Face Sit, grandma. That way you can see how good I look when I’m grinding ERGH! RRGGHH! GNNHH! AAAGGH! BYTCH!”

Deschain tenderized the Korean’s neck with half a dozen more Kneelifts, then shifted around to a loose Full Nelson sort of grip and lifted Park up until she was perched slumped and glassy eyed on the edge of the pit. Behind her, Syd laid a remarkably light hand on the brunette’s hunched shoulders. “It’s over, Yoona. Say it and you can go home to Camille.”

Park shook her head, even though the pain it sent through her neck was nothing short of excruciating.

“I’m gonna go home with her win or lose, Skeletor. Might as well be as a winOH SHYT, DON’T YOU WHOOAANNNGGHH!”

The Mangler pinned Yoona’s right arm overhead in a Half Nelson and wrapped her left arm around Park’s waist. Then she clamped down, pulled her off the wall and flipped her up, over and down, Yoona turned inside out a heartbeat before she THWHAP-SPLATTED into the mud in a facedown sprawl.

On one knee after the hellacious Suplex, Sydney looked from Cam to Yoona and back again. “What do you say, Camille?” she asked in a soft tone. “Can she really keep going?”

Cosworth closed her eyes and swallowed a lump the size of a softball. Hearing the story of Park’s loss on the beach had been bad, seeing her taken apart from only a few yards away was infinitely worse. She genuinely didn’t want to see Yoona take any more punishment, but she knew throwing in the towel for her would be the worst sort of betrayal imaginable. So after a moment she nodded once.

“If she says she can go, she can go. Please don’t ask me again, Sydney.”

Deschain nodded in return, crawled up behind the wounded beach fighter and shoveled her onto her back. From there she lifted her into a seat, then slid in behind and claimed possession of the brunette’s wrists. Yoona started to kick and squirm when the Marvel stretched her limbs wide, but Syd had no trouble threading her legs around those defenseless biceps and crossing them against Yoona’s aching neck. Lotus Lock sank in deep, Syd puuuuussssshed forward with her legs even as she craaaaaaaaanked back on Park’s captured wrists.

For once Yoona didn’t start with sass. Rather she rolled and dipped her shoulders, trying her damndest to slip from the gammy coil.

“You think you’re the only one who worked on her technique in the last year, Yoona?” Syd asked after the catfighter smacked an angry heel into the sludge. “I studied every bit of your footage I could find after our match on the beach. You may be unbreakable, but I can tear you in ways no one in California ever did. So give up before this goes any--”

“F*ck. Off. Dinosaur,” Park enunciated very clearly. “You humiliated me on my own sand. I don’t leave this pit until that score is sett--”

The promise broke down into a furious hiss as Sydney leaned forward and took the Korean’s nubs between thumb and forefinger. Her breathing slow and heavy, Yoona muttered, “Do your worst, DeschaiIIIIIEEEEE!”

Sydney pinched the younger woman’s nipples so forcefully Yoona feared she meant to take them as a literal trophy. “You really need to stop telling me that, Yoona.” Syd remarked as she repaid the earlier slight with humiliating, eye-watering interest.

Park had no trash talk at the ready, in fact she didn’t respond at all, she was far too busy focusing on choking down the traitorous words she felt bubbling in the back of her throat. It took several seconds, but the Korean did kill the urge and she celebrated its passing by gouging her claws into the veteran’s ribs. She heard Syd grunt and that was a good thing, unfortunately any joy she might’ve taken in the sound was promptly blotted out by another wicked twist of her nipples.

“Bytch,” Yoona spat it with more fervor than she’d reserved for anyone but perhaps Brewster or Severe. “You’re gonna pay for f*cking with me, I swear to--”

“Then get started, why don’t you?” Deschain barked. “Shut your goddamned mouth, stop preening for all these people you supposedly couldn’t care less about and start trying to win the f*cking match! Can you do that, Yoona? Or do you wanna just sit here and suffer until Camille decides to throw in the towel for EEERRRGGGGHHH! Yeah, that’s a start. Now do better!”

Yoona’s arms weren’t nearly as flexible as her legs, yet she managed to get her hands up and over the curves of the veteran’s breasts. Squeezing and kneading with white-knuckled ferocity, Park growled, “Let go or I’ll tear them off, I swear to God I GUUURRRRKAAAAHHHHH FAAAAAAHHHK!”

Sydney did as her opponent bade but only so she could reach up and slip three fingers of each hand into the sides of the younger brunette’s mouth! Fishhooks secured, Syd wrenched back and poured even more pressure into the Lotus, doing her damndest to break Park’s spirit, or possibly her shoulders.

“YOU’RE DONE, PARK!” Sydney almost shouted, the first hint of frustration creeping into her tone. “Just give it up and move onto a fight you can actually OOOWWWWWWW YOU CUNT!”

Yoona narrowed the focus of her claws to the American’s buds, causing Syd’s fingers to shift a little and that’s when Yoona chomped down on her fingers! Resilient though she was, Deschain wasn’t about to sacrifice any extremities to a punk like Yoona Park, so she undid her legs, put both feet between the other brunette’s shoulders and sent her tumbling away with a rough Mule Kick. Yoona twisted aside at the last second to prevent another facedown landing, but that meant she landed on her left shoulder and the bolt of pain that resulted forced a sob of anguish from her lips.

Stuffing a fist into her mouth to muffle the rest of the noise (she couldn’t bear the thought of Cosworth agonizing over her condition) Yoona took a few deep breaths, then pushed up and twisted around on one knee. Sydney watched her from a short distance away, the Marvel settled into a nearly identical pose. “Let Cosworth take you home.” Deschain said after the silence spun out for almost ten seconds. “Take a shower, soak in the hot tub, sleep until noon, whatever makes you feel better. But don’t come at me again, Yoona. Nothing good can come of it.”

Yoona smiled, a white slash in the middle of all the gray. “Oh, don’t let the trash talk fool you, old timer. You’re plenty good. And you’ll cum over and over before I’m done.”

Deschain sighed and beckoned her tenacious rival forward. “Fine, if that’s the way you want NNNNGGGGGGHHH!”

Park launched off her back foot to hit the Mangler with a low flying tackle that knocked the both of ‘em sprawling. Momentum meant that Yoona started on top, but Syd latched onto her hair almost at once and then they were rolling back n’ forth, all pretense at technique thrown away in a simple quest to claim the top mou--

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Yoona slipped a leg between her opponent’s thighs and punished Sydney’s crotch with a Kneelift that made the whole audience cringe. Rolling Deschain onto her back at once, Park slid aboard in a full body pin and strengthened her hooks with a Double Leg Grapevine.

Nose to nose with the groaning grappler, Yoona whispered, “You have hurt me in ways I haven‘t felt since my first year as a dancer. Tortured me in ways I didn’t think were even possible anymore. Please, allow me to return the favor.”

First order of business was repaying Deschain for the meal earlier in the match. Resisting the urge to just pound her foe into hamburger, Park grabbed a handful of mud and then smeared it all over Sydney’s mouth and nose.

“You like that, huh?! You like that?! Eat it! EAT IT!” Yoona screamed as she repeatedly tried to force the muck down Deschain’s gullet, relenting only after she had turned Sydney into a coughing, sputtering mess.

“Look at us, grandma. You were the pre-eminent wrestler of the 18th century, and I once punched someone so hard that it dissolved the Soviet Union, and yet here we are rubbing each other’s faces in the mud like a couple of schoolgirls,” Park whimsically mused as she propped herself up with two hands on Deschain’s shoulders while still working the Double Leg Grapevine. “Why do you think that is?”

Sydney was still too busy spitting out the gunk in her mouth, so Yoona answered her own rhetorical question, “Because it feels good.”

With that said, she served her rival one last helping of mud, then she sank her talons deep into Deschain’s breasts, drawing a gurgling groan from the trapped wrestler. Not finished yet, Yoona suddenly pitched to her right, rolling both of them over so that Sydney has now on top of her while still trapped in the Double Leg Grapevine. With a burst of effort, Park pushed up with all four limbs and hoisted Sydney up into the air, trapping the veteran brunette in a wicked combination of Breast Claw and Reverse Romero Stretch.

“Remember this one, Deschain?” Yoona said coldly, all traces of whimsy and humor gone. “I’ve been waiting a long fucking time to do this.”

Park’s cattier version of the Reverse Romero Stretch left her opponent’s arms free, and Sydney took advantage by landing a couple of withering slaps across her captor’s face, but then Yoona responded with a vicious squeeze of her breasts and a hard jounce of her legs and the resulting agony reduced her efforts to little more than limp, futile pawing.

Not even bothering to ask for a submission because it would be so much more satisfying if volunteered, the vindictive Korean used every trick in her book to make the hold as agonizing as possible for her victim. She opened her legs as wide as she could, and when that drew a piteous wail but no surrender, she began repeatedly lowering and raising Sydney’s upper body to put hellacious pressure on the Mangler’s spine.

Yoona’s weakened shoulder and abdominal muscles meant that the Reverse Romero Stretch was taking a heavy toll on herself, however. Even craning her neck to keep her face above the mud was starting to get exhausting. Frustrated that Deschain had yet to submit despite her agonized howling and caterwauling, Park subjected her to one final, hard bounce and then tossed her off to the side.

The Korean tried to massage some of the stiffness out of her own neck and shoulders, and then she heard her opponent’s tired-yet-defiant sounding voice taunting her, “Face it, Yoona. I’m tougher than you. Quit wasting time with your shitty, ineffective holds.”

Hearing her own words from earlier in the match thrown back in her face practically made her blood boil with rage. Cutting her breather short, Yoona knee-walked over to Sydney who seemed to be in poor shape in spite of her taunt. A quick Double Axehandle Smash to the liver preemptively quelled any resistance from Deschain, and then Yoona laid out perpendicular across Sydney’s abdomen, facing her legs. She pulled Deschain’s left thigh up against her own chest, then she shifted her grip so that her left forearm was wedged in the pit of the knee while her right hand gripped the foot, and then she yanked as hard as she could to forcibly flex the captured limb, simultaneously driving the sharp bones of her forearm into the calf muscle while twisting the ankle.

“AHHH!!!” Sydney screamed as the combination Calf Crusher and Ankle Lock set her entire lower left leg ablaze with pain. “AHHHH GOD! YOU BITCH!”

Working with grim purpose, the uncharacteristically silent Korean clasped her left hand on her right forearm for even more leverage and yanked back again. When that still didn’t get the job done, she scissored her ankles around Sydney’s right calf to take control of that limb as well, and then Yoona straightened her legs while arching her back, stretching Deschain’s right leg out to the side and adding a brutal leg split to the hold.

“NO! GODDAMN IT! NONONONO SHIIIIIIIIT!” Sydney shrieked as her groin muscles and hamstrings threatened to snap like cheap rubber bands after being previously weakened by the Wishbone Stump Puller and Reverse Romero Stretch.

Camille watched and winced from a few feet away, absentmindedly and nervously chewing on her fingernails. While Yoona had yet to debut this particular hold in a match, she had come up with it several months prior with Cosworth serving as a practice dummy. Park had named it the Crab Clutch, for the way that it left Camille limping bow-legged even when the hold was only applied for a few seconds at half of maximum force, and Yoona had intended to use it to send Adelaide Brewster directly to infirmary. For her to use her secret weapon now against Sydney suggested a level of animosity and desperation that made Cosworth very, very uncomfortable.

Still trapped in the Crab Clutch, Deschain hammered and clawed at Yoona’s exposed back, leaving bruises and scratches that would have been rather ugly had it not been for the mud covering them. Park retaliated by increasing pressure to all three parts of the submission, forcing Deschain to abandon her attack and instead tear at her own hair to distract herself, lest she spontaneously succumb to the ever-intensifying pain.

“You’re finished,” Yoona hissed, her first words in several minutes. “Walk out or get carried out, it’s your choice, but you’re finished.”

Something in the worn-down sound of Park’s voice triggered a renewed wave of determination in Sydney. Drawing upon her last reserves, she clamped her hands on Park’s trapezius muscles on either side of the neck and then squeezed until her knuckles turned white. Nearly delirious with anguish herself, Deschain didn’t bother to find the precise nerve clusters, but with the amount of damage already inflicted to Yoona’s neck and shoulders, it didn’t matter.

The effect on Park was near instantaneous, her eyes and mouth widening in hurt and shock. The supernova of pain at the base of her neck was so intense that her whole body went limp as she nearly lost consciousness, although the feeling of her face splashing down into the cold mud brought her back to her senses somewhat.

Sydney quickly freed herself from what remained of the Crab Clutch, unable to choke back a few sobs of relief as her legs returned to a normal angle. There was still a job to be done, however, and the Korean was starting to shake off the debilitating effects of the desperation Neck Pinch. Gritting her teeth and doing her best to ignore her own ailments, Deschain crawled over and dragged Yoona into a kneeling position.

“You’re good, Park, I’ll admit that. But do you know what your problem is?” Sydney whispered into her opponent’s ear. “There’s a whole other league light-years beyond ‘good’ and you’re not there.”

Message delivered, she tucked Park’s head under her right arm in a Reverse Facelock and sat back on her haunches to wrench Yoona’s vulnerable neck backwards. Things got even worse for the trapped Korean when Deschain re-applied a savage Abdominal Claw right in the center of her taut and tenderized belly.

For once, Yoona did not offer any rejoinder or trash talk. Instead she tucked her left hand behind her back, and slid it down the front of Sydney’s trunks. She didn’t have the angle to apply a proper Crotch Claw, so her ministrations took on a much different nature, instinctively probing and prodding even when she seemed on the verge of having her head torn off and her abdomen ripped open. It was a Hail Mary attempt, and at first it appeared futile, but after twenty long, agonizing seconds she felt a subtle tremor run through Sydney’s body, giving her a glimmer of hope.

“Stop it,” Deschain growled, trying to keep her voice as steady and authoritative as possible while she delivered a series of hard slaps to Park’s devastated belly.

Yoona’s fingers kept working...

“N-Not gonna w-w-work, k-kitten,” Sydney huffed, her voice noticeably strained as she made a fist and ground her knuckles into the Korean’s abdominal muscles.

...and working...

“Hnnnrrrggghh… Nooo… oooohhhh...” Deschain moaned as she dug her fingernails deep into Park’s flesh and repeatedly raked her hand from hip to breast, carving furrows even through the protective layer of mud.

...and working...

Feeling her hips start to involuntarily buck in rhythm with the Korean’s manipulations, Sydney released the Dragon Sleeper and forcefully shoved her opponent away with a furious, frustrated scream. Had she persevered she likely could have forced a submission or a knockout in exchange for surrendering an orgasm, but in Deschain’s mind that would have been a pyrrhic victory at best. After what happened on the beach in San Diego, she was not about to let Park sexually dominate her ever again.

Meanwhile, Yoona looked to be in no condition to dominate anything. Unmoved from where she fell after Sydney pushed her away, Park was propped up on her knees and draped facedown across the wall of the inflatable pool, her arms and head limply spilling out over the top. She didn’t appear to be conscious, and in fact she didn’t even appear to be alive except for the soft wheezing that accompanied every labored breath.

In no hurry to press the offensive, Deschain stayed on her hands and knees for a good amount of time trying to regain her composure. Once the fire between her legs had cooled from a raging inferno to a slow burn she pushed to a stand, only to cry out in pain and collapse back to her knees, her groin now throbbing in an entirely different manner thanks to the Korean’s repeated submissions targeted at her lower body.

It made no difference though, as Park still hadn’t moved a millimeter from her spot, giving Sydney all the time she needed to crawl over and drag her opponent off the wall and back into the mud. Arranging her rival into a sitting position, Deschain took a seat in Yoona’s lap and wrapped her legs around the younger brunette’s waist while pinning both of Park’s arms with a seated Bear Hug.

“You like being between my legs, Yoona?” Sydney snarled at her still insensate opponent. “Let me oblige you.”

Deschain crossed her ankles and squeezed her thighs together as forcefully as she could. It was hardly the best Bodyscissor of her career given the state of her legs, but Yoona’s midsection was in even worse condition, which was evident by the way snapped back to her senses once the constriction began.

“S-S-Stop... S-Stoooooooop…” Park groaned, her eyes starting to well with tears.

Ignoring both the Korean’s pleas and the strain in her own legs, Sydney clamped down harder on both the Bear Hug and the Bodyscissor. Yoona tried counterattacking with a Headbutt, but her aching neck rendered it a weak, ineffectual attempt.

“Give it up,” Deschain commanded, sending another pulse through her limbs.

“No… Nooooo… N-Never...” Yoona piteously sobbed while shaking her head, not sounding the least bit convincing, not even to her own ears.

“Better women than you have submitted to less, Yoona,” Sydney said. “I'd tell you that there's no shame in losing, but we both know that's not true, don't we?”

The Korean knew all too well the price of surrender, but it didn’t seem like she had much of a choice. With every last neuron in her brain screaming for her to give in, Park drew in a deep, ragged breath, opened her mouth, and --

“YYAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!!”

-- emptied her lungs in a deafening, high-pitched banshee’s wail less than twelve inches away from Sydney’s ear. Whether it was a clever sonic assault or merely the last gasp of a proud warrior pushed past her limits would remain a mystery, but the ear-splitting effect was the same.

Deschain instinctively cupped her own ears to block out the cacophony of sound and fury, and that was all the opportunity that Yoona needed to rake her across the eyes. To her credit Sydney maintained the mental focus to not slacken her Bodyscissor even as she tried to decide whether to shield her ringing ears or her burning eyes, though in the end it turned out to be neither, as Park trapped her arms behind her back with a Double Underhook.

Pushing to her haunches with Deschain still latched around her waist and effectively sitting in her lap, Yoona crunched her opponent into an uncomfortable looking ball. What was moments ago an almost assured victory for Sydney now became a pact of mutual destruction -- her Bodyscissor versus Park’s Royal Butterfly -- although it seemed as if the veteran had the decisive advantage, as she had spent a great deal of time and effort targeting Yoona’s midsection while her own spine and shoulders had been relatively undamaged save for a brief stint in the Reverse Romero Stretch.

“You're not going to outlast me, Park,” Sydney grunted into the side of the Korean’s ribs. “I'll cut you in half before you submit me.”

Perhaps sensing that this was her last stand, Yoona marshaled what little strength she had left, and rose from her haunches into a deep squat, cleverly using Deschain’s weight as a counterbalance to her own in order to stay on her feet. The shift in position made all the difference, as the Royal Butterfly was now locked in even tighter with the veteran’s bottom sagging down in between Yoona’s parted thighs, and the tension also started to build in Sydney’s much-abused hips, hamstrings, and groin.

A shuddering, agonized gasp escaped Deschain’s lips. Unhooking the Bodyscissor would have alleviated much of the pressure, at the cost of leaving her trapped in the Royal Butterfly with no way out and no means of counterattack. She tried to hold on long enough to squeeze a submission from her opponent, but Park squatted even lower to increase the strain, and Sydney felt her legs giving out, slipping and slipping and slipping until they finally pried apart thirty seconds later.

“You've lost,” Yoona murmured, her voice cold and triumphant.

With her Bodyscissor broken and her once powerful legs dangling lifeless by the crooks of her knees on either side of Park’s hips, there was little for Deschain to do except clench her fists and steel herself. The Korean was hardly a powerhouse and she had already taken a tremendous amount of punishment, so there was the chance the Mangler’s pain tolerance could outlast her opponent’s stamina.

“It’s… not over…” Sydney hissed. “When I get out --”

Whap!

Yoona thrust her hips forward and lightly smacked her crotch against her foe’s.

“What are you…?”

Whap, whap, whap!

“I told you, grandma.”

Whap whap whap whap whap!

“N-Nooo… Not… not like this…!” Deschain moaned, hating the sound of the despair in her quivering voice.

Whapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhap!

“I. Fucking. Told you.”

Whapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhap!

Sydney choked back another moan, the ecstasy in her loins somehow adding to the agony in her spine and vice versa in a terrible, wonderful feedback loop. She could feel Park’s breathing starting to get hot and heavy as well, but the nymphomaniac ingenue seemed to draw strength from her own arousal. Meanwhile for the veteran, it was a only a question of whether pain or pleasure would overwhelm her first, and by the two minute mark it seemed like it would be a photo finish.

Bitterly swallowing her pride, Deschain unclenched her right fist then fluttered her open hand in the air. The submission was clear as day, but Yoona only chuckled and continued her two-pronged assault, grinding away while jostling the Double Underhook.

“Did you honestly think that would stop me?” she said, her voice low and husky.

“Y-You… you heartless… b-b-bbiiiiiiiitchhh…”

Maintaining her domineering hold, Park waddled over to the edge of the pool and turned so that she could look members of the small crowd directly in the eyes.

“This… This is Sydney Deschain,” Yoona called to the assembled spectators while still thrusting her hips rhythmically, her own voice little more than breathy moans at this point. “For an entire goddamn year she humiliated the whole lot of you. Ran roughshod over this entire fucking federation. Made the best of you -- Burlingame, Clayton, Bates, Daniel, even that cunt nugget Brewster -- look like useless piles of shit. You fucknuts let her ride off into the sunset twelve and oh. Twelve and fucking-oh! And look at her now… dominated in every way someone can be dominated.”

Sensing that Deschain was on the brink, Park abruptly let go of her hold, denying her opponent that orgasmic release to further twist the knife. Not that she was finished, however. Grabbing two handfuls of dark, muddy hair, she dragged a helpless, defenseless Sydney into a kneeling position.

“Sorry grandma, but your O-face is old news. This time, the pleasure’s all mine.”

Yoona tore away her own bikini bottoms, then stepped over Deschain’s shoulders and locked on a Reverse Standing Headscissors. Forcing Sydney’s upturned face into her naked undercarriage, Park threw herself into slow, sensuous sweeps over the mewling veteran’s nose and lips while groping and fondling Deschain’s breasts. Normally, she would have sprinted through the finish line with a gush and a scream to provide some theatrics for her adoring fans, but now she treated herself to a much more indulgent, much more pleasurable ride.

Already on the precipice herself, it didn't take long for Yoona’s orgasm to arrive. Rather than crashing like a wave, it ebbed and flowed like the tides, waxing and waning, sending delightful spasms from head to toe every few seconds and eliciting soft, subdued gasps from her lips. The climax went on and on and on and on, and when it finally receded for good, she stood still for a while with her eyes closed, lost in her own world and savoring the last of the aftershocks. Satisfied that she had wrung every last drop of pleasure from her body, she draped the now-unconscious Mangler face-up across the wall of the inflatable pool, a warning to all would-be opponents.

Finally, Park climbed out and directed her ire at the executives, “I just carried a charisma-less, arthritic dinosaur to the best goddamn match you morons will ever see in your lives. Now get your dicks out of your hands and think about how many pay-per-views I could be selling if you gave me some real competition.”

With the room quietly murmuring at her brashness, Yoona turned towards her girlfriend with a lopsided grin, only for the look to be wiped from her face when she saw that Camille wasn't there.

Cosworth had actually slipped out unnoticed sometime during the middle of Park’s ranting diatribe. She’d found it galling and despicable that Yoona would heap on the humiliation even after Sydney had surrendered, and unable to stomach anymore, she had opted to wait in the car instead. Sitting in Eleanor’s driver seat, she’d been silently fuming for nearly thirty minutes now.

The passenger side door opened and Park slid into the car before shutting the door again. Without turning her head, Camille glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw that Yoona was still stark naked, although she had at least showered and dried off. Cosworth returned her gaze front and center away from her girlfriend, and the pair sat in awkward silence for a minute or two.

“I won,” Yoona finally said, her voice hoarse and raspy ever since her primal scream that had been the decisive turning point.

“I know.”

Another long period of silence.

“The next time I have a huge, career-defining victory, do you think you could FUCKING BE THERE?!”

“I was there, Yoona,” Camille said, making a concerted effort to avoid eye contact. “Maybe if you weren't so preoccupied with your joy ride afterwards --”

“Is that what's gotten you so goddamned pissy?!” Park interrupted. “You knew what kind of match this would be! You said you were okay with it, and now you’re whining about me taking a victory lap?!”

“Oh my God, listen to yourself, Yoona! A victory lap?! You went out of your way to humiliate Sydney even after she surrendered! Getting catty during the match is one thing, but what you did was something else entirely!”

“Do you think Deschain wouldn’t do the same to me?!” Yoona snarled. “Did you fucking forget happened in San Diego?! Do you ever bitch her out about that?!”

“Oh, come on…” Cosworth groaned. “That was over a year ago, and I wasn’t even there. What good would it do for me to dredge that up now?”

“And what I did was over twenty minutes ago and you weren’t there either, so what’s your fucking point?!”

Camille pinched the bridge of her nose and sucked a sharp inhale of breath through her teeth. “My point is that Sydney accepted this match as a personal favor to me, and what you did also reflects poorly on me, so --”

“Why do you care what she thinks?” Yoona snapped. “I don’t give a shit and neither should you.”

Cosworth sighed in exasperation. There was so much more she needed to say, but with her girlfriend’s emotions running high after a grueling battle, any discussion would only devolve into a futile shouting match. Deciding to table this particular conversation for another day, Camille got out of the car and motioned for Park to switch over to the driver’s seat.

“Ugh, whatever. Let’s just go home. You drive.”


---Three Days Later---

Alone in the small locker room located off northeast corner of the backyard gym jokingly referred to as ‘the Hellhole’ by its few regulars, Camille Cosworth let her eyes trail along the names taped to the front of each dented locker and fought hard to keep her bottom lip from trembling.

Vale
Crane
Burlingame
Lemarchand
Treymane

At eye level was ‘Cosworth’, the tape and marker still looking impossibly fresh compared to the other five names. Cam swallowed, blinked a few times, swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Damn it, Yoona,” she whispered. “Couldn’t you just…”

She fell quiet, having no idea how to end the idea. Sighing again, Cosworth reached up, worked a nail under the edge of the tape and started to peel it off the--

“And I thought I was ballsy,” said a voice from behind her.

Camille ‘eeped’ and spun around to find Maddy Crane watching her from the door that lead out into the main room. “Maddy! I was just getting, I mean, I thought I should--”

“Sneak in through the side door and clean out your locker while most of us are either away for the holidays or busting our asses in one of Syd’s submission seminars? Shyt, Camille, I’ve seen some brazen behavior in this very room, but sneaking out like a f*cking thief? I thought Park was supposed to be the Douchenozzle in your relationship.”

The 90 Second Wonder rooted her feet to the floor to keep from swaying in an imaginary breeze. This was exactly what she’d hoped to avoid, not because she believed Maddy was right (though she kinda did. Ok, maybe a lot more than kinda) but because at the moment she couldn’t bear to meet the redhead’s gaze, let alone Sydney’s.

“Mads… Maddy, I know what you think. I know what everyone thinks. But it’s not true. I didn’t know Yoona was going to fight the way she did. I didn’t know what she had planned for after the match was over. If I had I would’ve--”

“Asked Syd to make the match?” Crane interrupted. “Given her a little heads up, maybe? Or maybe you would’ve just sat back and watched your rampaging mega-twat of a f*ck buddy eke out the cheapest of cheap wins over the woman who’s been helping you go from a goddamned spot monkey to something like an actual professional wrestler. Tell me Cosworth, what exactly would you have done differently?”

Camille didn’t shrink from the redhead’s words, but she didn’t offer a defense either.

“I didn’t know, Maddy,” she whispered. “Believe me or not, I didn’t know.”

The Sultana of Slapstick sighed, anger and disgust at war on her face.

“For what it’s worth, I believe you, Cam. Doesn’t change what happened though. Nor does it change the fact that your girlfriend is a self-aggrandizing asshat who wants a straight shot to the Main Event without actually earning it. Most of all, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re too gutless to call her out on her bullshyt.”

Maddy looked her over one more time, opened her mouth to say something, ultimately thought better of it, “Whatever. See you at work, Cam. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way--”

“Who are you talking to, Maddy?” someone called from out in the central room. “Are you cutting a promo on the tiles again?”

The voice was closer now and Camille almost groaned aloud when she recognized Sydney.

Without taking her eyes off the worried brunette, Crane answered, “Flippy Shyt McLovesacunt was just cleaning out her locker.”

A moment later Deschain appeared in the door, noted Camille and swatted the Princess of the Punchline on the arm, “Oh Maddy, don’t be rude. Go on, get back to the ring. Veronica’s just about mastered the Inverted Cloverleaf, I want to see if you can engineer an escape hatch.”

Crane nodded, but didn’t move. “What about her?”

“Leave her to me.” Apparently satisfied, Maddy stepped out of sight, leaving Camille to find her words again. Thankfully Deschain spoke before she could screw things up further. “What’re you doing, Cam?”

Cosworth shifted aside and pointed a thumb at the partially-peeled tape. “I was just getting my stuff. Figured the locker space would be better used by someone else.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, because of what Yoona… I didn’t know!” Camille blurted those last three words as her eyes got damp at the corners. “I didn’t know she was gonna take it that far, I thought she was gonna be all leg stretches and kneelifts and Triangle Chokes but then she went all Miriam on you and I’ve felt about two inches tall for the last few days because I asked you to do the match as a favor to me and she--”

“Breathe, Camille,” Deschain interrupted. Cam did, though it wasn’t as steady as she would’ve liked. “Tell me, how long do you think I’ve been doing this? Wrestling, that is.”

Startled out of her funk by the unexpected question, Camille mulled it over, “Ummmmh… fifteen years or so?”

The Mangler smiled. “Off by a decade. Twenty-five years, Cam. Had my first pro match a little after my fifteenth birthday. Celebrated my eighteenth birthday by submitting a rather bytchy redhead in an Apartment House Catfight. So tell me, in twenty-five years in this line of work, do you REALLY think Yoona Park is the first woman to drag a win out of my trunks?”

“Well, no,” Camille replied. “But that doesn’t change the fact you made the match because I--”

“You’re her girlfriend, Camille. Not her keeper. And I knew the risks going in. Yoona’s a lot of things, but subtle about her intentions isn’t one of them. Am I HAPPY she submitted me, then went full Old School FAWN? Of course not. But it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last, though if I have my way there won’t be many more like that. Yoona wanted it more, that’s why she won and I lost. Nothing more to it than that. Now, if you still feel the need to empty your locker, I’ll leave you to it. But if you’d rather stick around for a while I know Lenore would appreciate a fourth for this drill we’ve been running.”

Deschain started to leave, but stopped when Cosworth called her back.

“You’d really let me keep training here?”

“Why not? I haven’t seen someone with your raw potential since Maggie Connor came through here a few years back. And I do believe you still owe me a closer look at that, what do you call it again?”

“Ninety Seconds of Awesome,” Cam said with a small smile.

“Yes, that. I’m interested to see just how much faster or stronger you are in such a state. You did promise to show me, as I recall.”

The younger brunette put a hand on the locker (‘her’ locker) and carefully ran her thumb across the tape, pressing it back into place. “Thanks, Sydney. I promise I won’t let you down.”

“I’m sure you won’t, Camille. But since I’m sure our arrangement will be a source of contention for your better half, might I offer you some… information. To use as you see fit, of course.”

“Sure.”

“I beat Yoona in her adopted hometown, she beat me in mine. Far as I’m concerned, we’re done, that ledger is balanced. If she comes after me again, however, I’ll…” Deschain trailed off as she considered her words. “I’ll hurt her, Camille. She might not miss a single night of ring time, but I would hurt her and I’d make sure everyone knew she was hurt. That’s not a threat or a bargaining chip, that’s simply my position on the issue of Yoona Park. What we’ve got right now is a sort of catfighter’s détente. If she moves to break it, she’ll be very sorry. Do you believe what I’m telling you?”

Cam nodded once. “Yes. I’ll do my best to keep her away, but I can’t tell her anything about this otherwise she’d be banging on the door in a second.”

“I know she would and I appreciate your position. Just remember what I said earlier. You’re her girlfriend, not her keeper. Now go on. Get changed and hit the ring, there’s still another two hours to go.” Sydney rapped her knuckles against the door frame and headed back to the ring, leaving Camille to fish the workout clothes from her bag.

She’d worry about Yoona later, right now she was just happy to keep her name on that row of lockers.