NEW - NOIR EXTREME WRESTLING
Established: 2025-11-13
Chat room: #Noir
- Pro wrestling
- Long-term roleplay
- Descriptive writing
- Female / Female
- Extreme violence
In the night underground of New York, the NEW women wrestle for pride, pain, and redemption — no rules, no mercy, no glamour. We are a sisterhood.
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Starring
Mina Anderson
For the first time, since I started in NOIR, I'm nervous about the kind of reception I'm going to get? The crowd were perplexed when I left after announcing this match and all the week the online discourse has been fanatically divisive. So no different than any other time. Some have been calling me the unworthy challenger with my one and two record. Others have been calling you the unworthy champion with your one and two record since winning the belt. This is a chance for one of us to prove our critics wrong. I suppose it depends which Sara comes out tonight? The one's scared of herself and weighed down by that clunky old belt? Or that feral, spiteful Lioness? It's almost time. I'll get the answer to my questions soon.
The arena fades into a rich neon pink hue and the arena bristles with a collective murmur. There's dry ice whisking across the stage, hiding the floor lights which flicker and beam upwards capturing my silhouetted figure, standing with my weight slinked on one leg and an arm crooked and resting on the flaring curve of my jutted hip, above the outline of pleats dancing flirtatiously around against the breeze from a couple of fans. My other arm snaps up above my head as my music starts to pick up speed and with a click of my fingers, a halo of pink pyro erupts over my head and rains down around me casting my statuesque form in dancing neon hues. And then the spot light falls on me a chorus of whistles comes down on me from the ground. I stand there unashamed, head held high and completely still but for the flicker of my hair and ripple of my skirt around a pair of tight, hot pink booty shorts and soon enough the intial blast of hostility has passed over me and evened out in a mix of jeers and cheers. I've owned every defeat and every mistake I've made here just as eagerly as the successes and the fans that are still with me.. They Appreciate that. Or they just appreciate the looks, the way move, like a catwalk model devouring the runway under kitten heels as I make my way to ring, prance up the steps and slink low and under the top rope before I start parading around the ring, blowing kisses out into a sea of mesmerised faces
Sara León
As I pick up the championship belt, it feels extremely heavy. I place it over my shoulder as though it were made of solid gold, unconsciously influenced by you. Who am I kidding? I’m actually terrified. That trembling in my fingers, that knot in my stomach, that growing anxiety in my chest... It’s all because of you. You’re the person I’ve brutalized more savagely than anyone else in Noir, and yet you’re the person I fear the most. And it has nothing to do with some backstage beating that anyone could have given me. It has to do with the harsh truth that I feel like you’re the wrestler in this federation who knows me best, and the only one deliberately trying to bring out the worst in me. I haven’t bothered paying attention to that huge online uproar you caused when you revealed yourself as my attacker, though I do know there’s no way you’ve lost all your supporters. After all, you’re still the N.E.W. wrestler who sells the most merchandise. With your porcelain-doll looks, your appropriation of the color pink, your spectacular presentation, and your mystical aura, you could be a terrible person and you’d still have the upper hand over me when it comes to popularity. And that only adds to my insecurity. After all, I feel like you have nothing to lose in this match, and that the fight isn’t so much about the title as it is about my own image, which is confusing and terrifying. I’m not a diva, I never have been. I’m just a wrestler trying to prove that I’m good enough, and for some reason, you hate that.
A staff member gets my attention and pulls me out of my thoughts. I swallow hard and nod, taking my place behind the curtain and watching through it as the pink disappears from the arena, giving way to my own choice of colors for this match. My music hits as the arena is bathed in neon lilac and black, the colors of N.E.W. I want to make it clear, to the crowd, to you, and to myself, that I’m coming out here to defend this federation, that I represent it, and that I will never put myself above it. I step through the curtain with a firm stride and my eyes fixed on the ring, greeted by an unexpectedly near-unanimous round of applause. It catches me off guard, and the cheers gradually begin to ease my nerves. I’m still their champion, after all. I still represent them, even after my turbulent reign. The last time I fought you, everyone booed me, and this feels refreshing. I look at you with a crooked smile, my confidence renewed, convinced that what happened last time won’t happen again. However, the applause and cheers begin to fade, and the fans’ faces start turning pale. I stop halfway down the ramp as my music begins to stutter, with no idea what’s happening...
Mina Anderson
The crowd are behind you, their noble champion, moving through the gauntlet of cheering fans as if carried by their admiration and affection. II waltz over to the edge of the ring to watch you approach, this could be a good omen for me. The ever shifting colour scheme of your gear's muted into the purple hues of Noir it's self as if you've willfully taken on their hopes, expectations and demands onto those those toned shoulders. You're strong, far superiority to me in athleticism and skill but if you keep trying to balance that fickle and shifting weight, then I have a chance. My eyes never leave you, nor does the little half smile playing across my bee-stung lips ever fade. I look every bit like I know something you precisely because I do. The bell hasn't rang yet but the battle is already in full swing and just as I am weak where you are strong, the inverse is just as true. The crowd notice the attack before you do. That's the wave of unease spreading through the air and seeping through your skin to grin you somewhere between mind and soul. Smouldering Sapphires flick upward, directing you to screen playing your B-roll behind you...
Erin was able to use her arcane abelites to project a dark mirror onto that very same screen. I wonder how much credit she deserves for taming the lioness, ever since, it seems you've been wielding excuses the way you used to wield chairs. My methods are different, it only took a flutter of my lashes toward one of the video technicians to weaponise your very own pageantry. There's fork in your path waiting within the ring, but right now you're captivated, surely unable to resist watching the montage flashing across the screen. The footage is grainy and dimly lit but there you are. And there I am, pushing a tazer into your stomach and sending you in macabre spasms. To everyone watching it looks like brazen torture, no different to the ordeal you put me through but you know there was so much more to that fateful night. As the camera's cropped in on your tear streaked face, it was the little lies you tell your self that seeped away, the pretence that tumbled from your screaming mouth. Snap cuts show my fist cracking across your jaw, then a humbling slap and then the shrill crack of my belt whipping and breaking through the audio jarringly with your entrance music. I can only this is taking you back to where I want you, feeling the weight of your belt and the folly of your reign. Remember how when the last walls where beaten down, you admitted to sadistic glee you took torturing me. It shouldn't be too hard to work, I told you that night what my intentions were...
"So you'll have a choice. Make me say "I quit" and you can keep that belt anchoring you down. But you wont be able to hide behind it anymore. Everyone will see what you are. The monster that's scared of the light. Or.. You can be free from it all. You can be the woman you want to be"
By now your music has played to it's finish leaving you alone in limbo with the tense mumbling around you for company. But the video rolls on, only now the message is for those fans that were lost in their adoration for you just minutes ago. On the screen I'm gently tipping a water bottle into your parched mouth and my fingers stroking your cheek, offering comfort and kindness, because despite what you tell yourself, I do not hate you Lioness. Then a series of flash cuts shows you breaking you own pin when you had me beaten, driving into thumb tacks with a piledriver and that final devastating chair shot to bound and gagged victim replayed in triplicate along the sicken metallic clatter. All just to remind everyone... to really hammer home the cruelty you showed me. And then.. There's silence. Heavy, deafly silence. The screens dark and dead. In fact the only rays of light lead you to the ring, where I'm waiting with my foot pushing down the middle rope welcoming you into the ring.
Sara León
I begin to turn around slowly, raising my head until I’m looking at the huge screen where the NEW logo was just moments ago. Now, however, I begin to turn pale as I watch the footage of my torture. I suppose anyone would think it’s the memory of the pain that terrifies me. However, as I see my tear-streaked face magnified on the screen, I manage to bring back those moments when you stripped me of my masks, my fears and my desires, and dared to expose me before you and before myself. I feel like I can’t breathe, and my only desire is to be able to run toward the ring and fight as though my opponent didn’t matter. To feel the pain of your submission holds, the thud of my body against the ring... I can endure that, I can fight against it. But my eyes never leave the screen, hypnotic and macabre. I run my fingers over the scars on my stomach as soon as I see the footage of your lashes. Your words echo in my head again, words that have been tormenting me ever since you said them to me, and that I’ve tried to bury in my mind all these days. The belt feels heavy again as I continue trying to withstand the most devastating psychological attack I’ve suffered since Erin defeated me.
The footage of you giving me water wasn’t something I expected to see in this montage, and yet it affects me far more than I expected. I don’t want to turn around for fear of seeing your perceptive gaze fixed on mine, I don’t want to make myself even more vulnerable before you, I don’t want to show you that you’ve outsmarted me, that I feel like a puppet in your hands. The footage of what I did to you the last time we stepped into a ring appears before the Noir crowd once again, a reminder to all my fans of who I was that night, and of what you’re trying to prove. The crowd is fickle and has a short memory, so you’ve made sure to lay all the cards on the table again. All my hope of being able to step into that ring and face you, my greatest enemy in Noir, without the crowd knowing everything that’s at stake, crumbles.
The lights go out and the entire arena falls silent. I slowly turn around, seeing that illuminated path leading me directly to the ring, where you seem to be waiting for me. I feel the fans’ eyes on me, and I feel small and naked. I bite my lip to hide the trembling in my legs and arms. I’m as white as snow, every trace of color drained from my cheeks, and I take the belt off my shoulder and clutch it against my chest with both hands. I begin walking toward the ring in complete silence, while my head is an absolute chaos of thoughts and voices. I have to keep telling myself over and over that your dilemma is false, that I can be the champion I want to be, that I can defeat you easily, just like last time, and remain N.E.W.’s hero. I have a real chance to prove that you’re wrong about me, that I can control my dark side and keep this belt. When I reach the ring, I freeze. I gesture with my eyes to a member of staff, who approaches, and I hand them the title with trembling hands. Then I make a small jump onto the ring apron, and slowly slip between the ropes through the space you’re leaving me. My gaze meets yours for a moment in a fateful instant when I know those blue eyes have managed to pierce my soul and understand everything going through my head.
Mina Anderson
As if seeking to break the uneasy silence, the announcer lays out the rules of the match in all their pointed simplicity. Win by getting the opponent to admit defeat into the mic so everyone can hear it, loud clear and undisputed. You need only go back to that dark place you took us to where you had me whimpering, crying and begging you just to take your win while you layered humiliation and cruelty over cruelty. For me too, their are two obvious paths one leading to vindication and the other to glory and perhaps.. One more, much for sinful and unspoken. My pulse is racing as I watch you tremble like a withdrawing addict as you hand over the belt and accept my invitation. We're eye to eye and I take a step which brings me into your space so close you can smell the mix of rosewater and warm peachy scents speckled feather like over my china doll skin. Those bluue eyes are locked onto yours, surveying the damage even as the glitter on my checks sparkles under the light, hinting at the laughter I'm witholding. Of I let it tumble from my waxy pink lips then all the nervous energy pulsing through my body would come tumbling out unzipped. From the moment I answered your call and came fluttering into your den on your terms, no relationship has defined my time more than this one. Tonight the stage was mine to set and "I'm grateful you accepted my invitation... Thank You Sara". My voice is sugar sweet even as I try to pour salt in raw wounds before simply giving you a little wink and retreating to my corner.
Sara León
As soon as I enter the ring, I begin to listen to the match stipulations, imposed by you. In truth, hearing them relaxes me. Knowing that there are certain rules, an objective... Thinking about the fight... I’m not actually a submission master like Misaki, but my most devastating finisher is a submission hold, all of Noir knows that. I flex my fingers as I think about my chickenwing while backing away, and I realize that you’re following me, so I stop and let you invade my personal space, right in the center of the ring. Your scent intoxicates me and brings a flood of all kinds of memories that makes me dizzy. Your screams of pain in this very ring, your hurtful words backstage... People know your appearance, your color, your sound and your aesthetic, but your scent, as exotic as everything else surrounding you, is something you reserve only for your opponents. I try to hold your gaze, but in those blue eyes I see no challenge or hatred, not even analysis... The only thing I perceive is amusement, as though you were genuinely enjoying having me here at this moment. My eyes shift nervously, trying to withstand your gaze, while I can’t stop noticing your beauty. There’s something about you, and there always has been, that genuinely fascinates me. And feeling vulnerable beneath that blue gaze is both terrifying and exciting.
However, the moment you utter your phrase, chosen and crafted down to the smallest detail, my expression crumbles, letting you know just how easily you can unsettle me. That expression of gratitude with my name was something you repeated endlessly the night you tortured me, and something about it feels genuine, and perhaps that’s why I find it so difficult to dismiss it from my mind as mere provocation. With your sweet voice still echoing in my head, I retreat to my corner with my heart pounding violently against my chest and my muscles tense, feeling paralyzed and forcing myself to move across the canvas, trying to steady my breathing as I wait for the bell to ring.
Mina Anderson
The bell comes too quickly for me. Even from across the ring I can see you squirming, your own mind tying in knots while you wrestle with your own demons. Perhaps you'll shrink rather than face them and that alone will be enough to tip the balance and and give me victory. That's an exciting thought but one I'm quick to dismiss. Setting the mood music is one thing but the dance is far more unpredictable. I step out with a casual hipsway that flicks my skirt out just enough to let the hem of my short peek out. It's same outfit I debuted in of course cause even angels know that the devil is in the little details. As I approach, still wearing that cat that got the cream smile so proudly, I reach up and wiggle my fingers high in the air, inviting you come join me and link up. That too is a deliberate choice, despite your size I want you up close where I can keep whispering sweet somethings into your ear.
Sara León
The familiar sound of the bell acts as a regulator in my head. The match is still what matters. I close my eyes and breathe in and out, opening them knowing that it’s your face, not your body, that I have to fight against. And sure enough, there you are, smiling mischievously at me and raising your hand. I watch your fingers wiggle as if you were playing an invisible harp, and I try to rationalize the situation. You’re probably hoping I’ll attack you aggressively and try to take control of the match as quickly as possible, so I decide to accept a test of strength where I know I’ll soon have the upper hand. Still, I don’t smile. I carefully approach the center of the ring, rubbing my nose with my thumb for a moment as I bend my legs and slowly raise one hand, watching yours until I interlace my fingers with yours, then doing the same with the other hand, until our hands are mutually locked together. That’s when I plant my boots on the canvas and begin pushing forward, avoiding looking you in the eyes at all costs
Mina Anderson
I drag a kitten heel across the rough musty canvas, storied with blood, sweat and tears. All the glitzy costumes and brilliant stages ultimate decorate what is a violent and harsh place. It's much more your den than mine, but I've came with a plan. So I've spread my base and anchored my feet as we lace one hand and then the other. You push, I push back flexing my calves as I press into the floor as arch my body with a flick of my tail bone that has us eye to eye again, teeth bared in exertion like a pair of animals. "Does that feel better lioness?" I coo, mischief still dancing across my features. "I know you've been itching to get your claws into me". Despite the grin you are succeeding. A small victory when I'm forced despite the strain starting to burn in biceps to take a step back toward my corner. And then another and another and the crowd are starting bristle back to life, cheering their respective champion willing us on. You're picking up pace now as one victory makes the next come more easily til I'm back peddling while the boards shake underneath us. And when I feel we're close enough, I plant a foot and try to pivot my body and swing you right around into the waiting turnbuckle!
Sara León
I press my lips together in response to your taunt, trying at first to ignore it and then realizing that I’m better off embracing it. I really had been wanting to get my hands on you, to feel your resistance and know that I can take out my frustration on you without consequences. When I manage to take the first step forward, a small crooked smile slips across my lips. I shoot you a quick glance, hoping to catch a tiny glimpse of doubt or fear, and when I think I see it, I increase the pressure. The crowd finally comes alive, filling that suffocating silence that had been wrecking my nerves. I manage to push you toward the corner, my own confidence growing, until I try to give one hard sho— "Woah... Uffff!!!" My own momentum betrays me and you manage to spin me around. My back crashes into the turnbuckles and I’m trapped by you. My hands release yours and reach for the top ropes to keep my balance
momentum shifts and carries me into a little celebration. I curtsie left then right side of the target with my hands held high in the air looking for like a cheerleader right now that a contender for the toughest woman in the business. "Gimme an F.. Gimme an A.. and then, Find Out!!". With that I turn my body and slink back onto my back foot, setting myself to deliver some long awaited revenge for a changing room incident. While your balancing yourself I draw my knee into my body and thrust my boot up in a piston like superkick aimed to land square across your chin!
Mina Anderson
So far, everything is coming up Mina. I twirl in a flurry of silky tresses and see you go thudding into the turnbuckle while my own momentum shifts and carries me into a little celebration. I curtsies left then right side of the target with my hands held high in the air looking for like a cheerleader right now that a contender for the toughest woman in the business. "Gimme an F.. Gimme an A.. and then, Find Out!!". With that I turn my body and slink back onto my back foot, setting myself to deliver some long awaited revenge for a changing room incident. While your balancing yourself I draw my knee into my body and thrust my boot up in a piston like superkick aimed to land square across your chin!
Sara León
"UNGHPH!!" The sole of your boot suddenly slams into my chin in a quick and devastating superkick barely a few seconds into the match. A few drops of saliva fly upward as my whole body gives a little hop and my head snaps back. My hair goes flying over the top ropes and, if it weren’t for the grip of my hands, I would have collapsed into a seated position on the canvas. Instead, I’m left slumped against the turnbuckles with my head rolling on my neck in a complete daze, while my legs buckle and my arms hang from the ropes
Mina Anderson
My shirt ripples back over those attention grabbing, stretchy short shorts as I hop back after the kick lands and leaves you dazed and dangling from the corner ropes like a slam of meat just waiting to be tenderised. This couldn't be going better! At every turn you have proven just as predictable as I had hoped.. no... Manifested! I keep my eyes locked on you as I skip back toward the far corner of the ring with pep in my step and a clear sequence worked and practised obsessively over the last week. One that will hurt and wear you down sure, but more than that, one that with energise the crowd and recapture their imagination. The louder I can get them cheering for me, I hope, the lonier and more isolated you'll feel. The closer you'll come to that breaking point. How you might break is anyone's guess but I'm getting ahead of myself when I should be focused on what's dead ahead of me right now. A struggling champion and... an easy target? I hop forward and onto the balls of my feet then tumble forward, closing the distance between us in a double cartwheel that has short pleats tumbling and my hair whipping behing me like a brilliant streamer with almost glows under the stage lights. I land on my feet in front of you, torquing my hips so my rears careening forward you bare stomach. I'm trying to drive the air from your body and slam you back into the corner, pinned against the press of my back...
Sara León
Despite the crowd having come back to life, their confusion over the situation makes them remain somewhat cautious, not entirely sure who to cheer for and who to boo. However, wrestling isn't always about picking sides. Your athletic and graceful movements immediately captivate a large part of the audience, and I can feel the fans' excitement growing the moment I see you coming toward me like a huge pink blur... "UUGGHHH!" Until your ass slams into my abs, pinning me against the corner. My arms slip free from the ropes, and I would've fallen if it weren't for the pressure of your back against me, keeping me in an awkward position as I gasp and groan, trying to catch my breath. My hands press against your back, pushing weakly forward while the crowd applauds your display
Mina Anderson
I can feel your hands on my back, pushing without any real force. Certainly not enough to hamper me too much but I grab the ropes either side to anchor myself and wiggle waggle my tush into your body. In part I want to make sure you can't regain your breath easily, in part it's just to embarrass you and get a portion of the crowd salivating for more, Cause I do have plenty more to dish out. It all starts with a feline, sensuous stretch and rolls friction lite lycra against flesh and lifts the "Angel" logo on my chest high under the stage lights as I hook an arm behind your neck to draw your so close you can feel my voice whisp across your cheek in playful waves. "Hear that Kitten? I think they're forgiving me. Not so sure about you though". With that, I flick my feet out from under me, still trying to hold onto your neck, so you'll be pulled down as I land on my ass, and eat a thunderous neckbreaker!
Sara León
Your wiggling works perfectly as part of your theatrical display, keeping the crowd lively and attentive, but despite my dazed state, the match has only just begun, and I still have plenty of fight left in me. Your stretching and taunting have a demoralizing effect on me, but they also give me time to reassess the situation. And the instant you kick your feet out from under you, I grab the wrist of the arm you have around my neck and unwind it from there, immediately yanking your arm hard downward while simultaneously raising one knee, using your own momentum to make you rotate and trying to drive my knee into your beautiful face in midair!
Mina Anderson
My feet have already left the ground when you yank on my arm and twist my body toward you. The counter attack is improvised, clumbsy and maybe even a little desperate, but it breaks my sequence before I can really raise the roof on the Hammerstrein. My temple ricochets with your knee with a dull thud which shorts out my central nervous system for a heartbeat. As I land on my rear, I flop down onto my side at your feet but my system is already rebooting. "nnnuunnnn, You lucky... oaf". I groan as I plant my hands on the rough, weathered canvas and twist my hips to turn onto all fours so I can look up and try to shift onto one knee where I can at least use my hands to defend myself from this grounded position...
Sara León
I take a second to breathe and shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from my mind, while you chalk my counterattack up to luck. Then I step toward you as you plant one knee on the mat and wrap my arm around your neck in a front headlock, pressing your cheek against my side and bringing my free hand to your miniskirt. "You're the lucky one that I don't want to make you bleed, Mina..." I tell you, betraying my intrusive thoughts as I bend my knees and pull hard at your waist, trying to hoist you into the air and flip your entire body over, looking to throw you backward and into the corner with a supplex!
Mina Anderson
I'm still on all fours when you sink and clasp my head into your side so tight n' snug that my cheek squishes and pushes my lips into a half puckered pout. Hardly the most dignified moment in my fledgling and troubled career. You pile on another little insult when you grab my skirt and hike it up as you haul me up but right now, you're guiding to where I want to be, back on my feet and I'm wearing those snug little booty shorts underneath for immodest moments like this, where I'm doubled over, flexing and squirming to try and slip free. Those in the crowd that stayed in Team Sara are starting to raise the decibels, so are the folks still torn between us. They can see the momentum swinging as you plant your feet. I can feel it too as I paw at your back and beat my gloved fists into your body yet just before you lift me, you come right out and tell me that mentally and emotionally, I have you right where I want you! The waist of my skirt bites into my pelvis as I lift off and see the arena swirl around me in a flash a second before my back crashes into the padded turnbukles and drives the air from my lungs.. "HnnnggKKKK!!" My legs catch at the knees, hooking over the to ropes either side of the corner so I'm left handing upside down with my hair pooled across the canvas like a mop and my bare, taut midsection tensing til my abs tint through as I twist and squirm to get free!
Sara León
The fall to the mat is awkward; being too close to the corner, you don't complete the full arc and end up hanging from the ropes, while I grit my teeth and try to get back to my feet, watching you out of the corner of my eye and seeing you in such a vulnerable position. My first attack is completely instinctive, throwing a kick into those perfectly exposed abs as I bite my lower lip and let you squirm some more, turning around and heading toward the center of the ring. I crouch down slightly to look at you and tuck my hair behind my ears before charging toward you and leaping at the last moment, tucking my legs in and then extending them forcefully, trying to smash the soles of my boots into your face with a low dropkick!
Mina Anderson
I'm still trying to regain my breath after that heavy, awkward impact that's still echoing at the small of my back and between my shoulder blades, where I hit the corner hardest. The "Angel" blazed across my chest distorts and stretches out as I draw in great lungfuls of stale air, all while I watch you rise and show just a flicker of anticipation for the situation your find yourself in, with you rival tangled up and squirming before you. "uunnppHH!!". I grunt as you rob more precious oxygen from my body and wretch my body back into the corner, buying the time you need to circle back across the ring and charge forward. I can see you closing in but right now there's no where to run or hide. I get my hands between you and my porcelain features only for sheer momentum to break through the improvised guard and smash into my face.. "aaaarRRKKKK!". My hair lifts and, ripples, flicking out across the apron as the back of my head clunks on the ring post and my eyes flutter and glaze. I'm unaware of my legs sliding across the ropes til I'm hanging loosely, held up only by my ankles still draped on the top rope....
Sara León
My boots connect with your arms and eventually your head, sending me sliding across the mat and under the ropes until I end up with half my body outside the ring. I finish sliding all the way out in one fluid motion, as if I'd planned it, rolling until I end up at ringside, where I lean forward and let my hair fall over my face before lifting my head and sweeping it all back behind me, while a large part of the crowd applauds. A shy smile of pure happiness escapes me. I really can be that wrestler, after all. I approach you again from behind, and from outside the ring I grab you by your pink hair, trying to start smashing your head against the bottom turnbuckle, again and again, hoping you'll eventually fall completely onto the mat
Mina Anderson
I'm clutching my face as I hang there, like the shaft of an archers bow with my top straining to maintain my modesty against the quickening swell and retreat of my chest, betraying my quickening breath. I can sense how vulnerable i am like this, even if my head is spinning and my mind is groggy from that double boot. My hips sway, flicking folded pleats across my stomach as I teeter there, light catching every strained crease of my silky little shorts as I shift and stretch while blood floods into my head helping to keep me disorientated. Somewhere in the haze I can hear the crowd responding to you flicking back your hair and letting the excitement and danger of occasion creep through you.. Or perhaps, simply reawaken? I feel your hands tugging on my silky, cascading curls and my scalp ignite as you pull me back and everything shakes and turns red. Kaledescopic colours erupt in time with the crowds "Oooobhh!" Each comes as the back of my head clunks on the ring post sending the jolt all the up my spine.. "ughh... uugghhh HhyyccckK!!" On the third my hips flock forward enough to lift my feet up and over the ropes. Then I flop onto my tummy, chest pillowed at my side after my body lands with a heavy slap.. My looking up, through a mess of pink curls at you. Glassy eyes rolling around in my head as I slur a few words of mocking encouragement.. "thasssss.. tha.... spear-ritttt!"
Sara León
When you finally fall face-first, I make as if to climb back into the ring, but your words leave me frozen for a second. I stare at you intensely and with a certain confusion, unaware that I'm making it obvious that anything you say is going to affect me far more than I realize. I grab you by one wrist and start dragging your body toward the corner, feeling my heart pounding against my chest and my skin prickling at the mere thought of driving your spine into the corner post and folding you in half. But before I can do it, I stop. I look around and force myself to relax. I can make you submit without letting my anger take over. I release your wrist and leap into the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. I grab you by the ankles and drag you across the mat until you're in the center, face-down, where I try to fold your legs over my thigh, looking to start locking you in a sharpshooter
Mina Anderson
You hesitation and indecision gives me precious seconds to regain some composure and situational awareness. Slowly, the world is coming back into focus as I look out past the ring post and into the sea of dimly fit faces and banners stretching all the back and into the heavens. I can sense your movement, clambering into the ring as I regain some breath but I'm still laid out prone and defenseless when you get yourself in gear and grab my foot. The other foot bounces off the mat as you drag me as if I wear a bag of garbage behind you, rough canvas angering my skint he whole time. That's the least of my worries though because when you have me stranded in the centre of the ring, a glance over my shoulder tells me waht your planning. "nnngGG.. You are.. sucha... Base bitch!" I hiss back while you cross my ankles around your thigh and lock in the hold. It ignites, like torchpaper fizzing through my upper thigh til I throw my head back and let out a cry of pain. The ref's hovering around with the mic in hand, but I ignore her. There's no chance I'm letting you get through this so quickly or so easily. My cries turn to a low, feral growl as I clentch my teeth and plant my hands, then start to press my body up to take some of the strain out of my thigh....
13:41 Sara_León: I twist my lips into a smile when you call me basic, knowing you're only trying to provoke me. I've just locked in the submission hold and start leaning back as I begin to drop my weight onto your back, and your cry of pain confirms that you're definitely in trouble. "Come on, Mina..." I tell you between low, breathless gasps. "Say it and put an end to this charade. You know I'll get it out of you sooner or later, there's no point putting yourself through this," I tell you in an almost condescending voice, while my hands grip your knees and slowly pull your thighs upward, trying to cause you a little more pain with every passing second
Mina Anderson
Your weights starting to press down into the curve of my rear and my lower back, spreading the attritional in a serpentine strain which bites around my hip and flexed, trembling thigh where rivets of sweat are rolling and glistening under the hot, stifling stage lights. The crowds starting to bristle at the thought their champ could brush aside my challange so quickly. THe Ref's hunched in front of me, bringing the mic close just as you spout up so smug and patronising. So utterly misguiding that I actually break out a shrill pained laughter. And with that a chorus of wannabe angels erupt in a maelstrorm of noise that gives me that surge of adrenaline I need to keep pushing through the sharp, trembling back and pad my hands back across the mat, narrowing myself behind you til I can reach out for your ankle and sweep it from under you and send your hurtling forward, in danger of face planting into the waiting, spiteful canvas!
Sara León
The referee's microphone picks up your laughter, which echoes throughout the arena like a taunt wrapping itself around me. I cling to your legs then, trying to remind myself that I'm in control of the match and in control of your body, and trying not to let myself be intimidated. But the truth is that that damn laugh has left me absolutely terrified, and the paralysis keeps me from realizing that you're crawling toward my legs, and then. "What...? WOAH!!!" Your hand sweeps my ankle out from under me with an unexpected motion and I completely lose my balance, immediately releasing your legs and hurtling forward, where I take two steps to keep myself from falling onto the mat, but instead I land against the bottom rope, making it bounce as I grab onto it and start turning around, gripping the middle rope with both hands as I begin getting back to my feet and look around for you
Mina Anderson
A wave of relief washes over me when you release my legs and go stumbling forwards. My knees drop onto the mat and I roll onto my side, taking a moment to bring my hurt leg into my body and run my fingers over that clammy, creamy flesh and knead some of the tension of of my thigh. More time to lick that wound would be nice, but it's luxury I don't have, so I swing my legs out in front of me and start climbing to my feet while your propping yourself up on the rope and using them to get back up. In truth, you had the better of that intial exchange but look at you, every bit the cowardly lioness, which I suppose makes me the wizardess of OZ trying to use theatre to break your spirit. So when I approach, my footsteps are small and tight, a longer stride after all would betray the lingering pain and damage to my leg. WIth these little short skip steps I can partially hide my limp as I close in wearing a cheek dimpling smile. "If that's all you've got then this is going to a long night for you". I lunge forward, reaching out to try and plant the heel of my palm into your chin and push back. I'm trying to bully you right up and over the top rope!
Sara León
When I finally see you, you're no longer writhing on the mat, but walking toward me as if nothing had happened. Confusion spreads across my face, and your mocking taunt manages to get under my skin as I finally make it all the way back to my feet, giving you enough time to attack me before I can do the same. "Believe me, you haven't seen anyth— UGHHH!!" Your palm SLAMS hard into my chin and my head snaps upward and backward, leaving much of my weight resting on my shoulder blades and the top rope, causing my body to rotate over it. My vision spins as my body tumbles awkwardly to ringside, making me fall humiliatingly right beside the ring apron, where I quickly bring a hand to my chin and try to straighten out my neck, attempting to get my head back into the match
Mina Anderson
I feel your body bend and go tumbling heels over head to the ringside, where the commentary table is just behind you close enough that you can hear the resident experts naratation, as ever as fickle as the wind. They're sure you don't stand a chance and even for me, it looks promising right now as I peek over the edge of the ring for a sight before I follow up. It's a simple attack. I grab the top rope and use it to vault myself up and over side bodied and try to crash down atop you!
Sara León
I'm still rubbing my chin and trying to get back to my feet, paying no attention to my surroundings, when suddenly it feels like I've been hit by a steamroller. Maybe because of the surprise, or the awkward position of my body, or because I never saw it coming... But your body lands on mine and crushes me all over, making my limbs bend unnaturally and leaving me buried beneath you, groaning and grunting and writhing like an animal that's been run over
Mina Anderson
"GgyuuuFFFFF!!!" I'm winded too by the crude and clumsy landing, but you most definitely fare worse from the follow up with leaves us splayed out on the ground in a tangle of limbs with me on top and you flattened underneath me... By the time I'm moving with any purpose the roar of the crowd has peaks and eased back into the excited rumble and I can just about hear the commentators. "Oh my God. Did you See that!". "Yes. I'm sat right beside you". You can feel my hands pad and grasp at you as I peel myself away and plant my knees on the ground beside. There I take a moment to flick my hair out of my face and flatten my skirt down around my flaring hips. Then it's back to business. "Come on you.. Time to meet the staff". I giggle as I grab your hair and start to get up to my feet, intent of dragging you to the commentator table and slamming your face against it to keep you stunned....
Sara León
Your small, soft hands press against my body and brush over my skin as you pull away from me, and I roll slightly to make the awkward separation easier. I raise one hand to grab the ring apron and try to get back to my feet, but you get ahead of my movements and grab me by the hair. "Eckkkk...." Making me grunt as I'm forcibly pulled up, first onto my knees and finally to my feet to ease the tug, while my vision is still blurred. My movements are erratic and guided by you, until finally... -BONKKK!!- My face SLAMS into the commentary table and bounces back upward as I bring one hand to my nose and my legs buckle and wobble, threatening to collapse and leave me sitting beside the commentary table, completely dazed
Mina Anderson
My hand is still tangled in your hair as you faceplant into the desk with a collect "Oh". I'm wrapping that rich dark silk around my palm to keep the grip tighten and painful as you come back up clutching your face, only my hold on you keeping you up right. "Things are looking bad for the champ". One commentator observes. "Sara's not looking good.". I keep you within earshot. They're doing my work for me right now and I need the break to recover my breath and plot out whats coming next.. "Some do call her the unworthy Champ". I'm moving to your side so I can place a hand on your abbs and use it to try and haul you up and over my head horizontally before stepping back and letting you drop, face first toward the table again!
Sara León
I move my hand away from my nose and see a small spot of blood, while I can still feel your hand twisting into my hair as if you want to make sure I can't get away from you. I glance sideways at the commentators with growing hatred, but I'm still extremely dizzy and unable to snap at them. Then I feel your hand plant itself against my abs, and the entire arena watches you put on an impressive display of strength as you lift me over your head. "Wooohhh!!" I scream, turning pale and looking utterly stunned. The commentators start backing away and clearing everything they can off the table. "What's she going to do!! Don't do it, Mina!! Don't—" -BROOOOWWMM!!!- My entire body crashes down onto the cluttered commentary table, onto their papers, cables, mics, and electronic equipment, leaving me sprawled face-down as the commentators shout in astonishment and describe the sorry state I'm in, barely moving like a wounded snake as I try to process the pain and humiliation
Mina Anderson
The table shudders under for a moment and threatens to collapse under the impact of your body slapping across the smooth wooden surface. That was my intention but the tables been rebuilt stronger after the last time a fighter was smashed through it. That, I decide is one of life's little blessings as I watch you laying there stunned and so vulnerable. I'll probably never have a chance to show I can compete in the big leagues of NOIR than I have right now. "The Angel's looking radiant". The announcer comments to everyone live streaming this. "The Lioness... Well... she looks wounded..." I place my hands on the back of your head and push down, smooshing your face into the surface as I climb up, still favouring one aching leg. Again as I rise, I try to peel you up into a doubled over position so I swing one leg up and rest the back of my thigh across the back of your neck. Noise is building around the arena again. Anticipation rising all around as I raise a hand to signal what's coming. The Sword of Damocles. Uninterrupted, I'll swing my standing leg out, let gravity do its thing and bring us both down and through the table!
Sara León
I feel your hands pressing against the back of my neck as I groan and huff. My nose is crushed against the table, leaving a small crimson pool that soaks into some white papers. The commentary sinks deeper and deeper into my spirit, which is slowly crumbling. I didn't come out to this arena to get beaten down and hand the title over to that... pink doll. As soon as you start trying to pull me up, I realize just how bad a state I'm really in. My body hurts almost everywhere I can think of, and I'm left doubled over as I feel your thigh against the back of my neck. You take a second to raise your hand toward the crowd, and that's more than enough time. I shift slightly so that your thigh rests on my shoulder instead of my neck, while at the same time I grab your other leg and lift it onto my free shoulder, leaving you sitting on my shoulders as I grip your soft, fleshy thighs in my hands and the crowd roars in surprise. Then I turn slightly, trying not to lose my balance, and attempt to leap off the commentary table while throwing you forward at the same time, looking to split the table in half with your body in a powerbomb!
Mina Anderson
I swing my leg out, fully expecting to smash your face back down and turn that puddle of blood into a lake. Only.. I'm not moving.. I'm hovering and lifting higher into the air!? Your grip on my thigh guides me higher and higher til my legs are draped over your shoulder and my skirts brushing across your face as I start to squirm and wriggle. You feel my fists pop pop popping of your shoulders, making it harder for you to keep your balance and set yourself just right but somehow, you manage it. "oh no!". I gasp as I feel you lift up then drive me, flying downward in a flurry of flailing limbs and CRASH through the fable. Splinters bite into my back, snare my shorts and rake across my thighs as I hit the table then the ground in a devastating double tab that leaves me jerking upward, eyes rolled back as I choke and cough and gasp in pain.. "eeerrKKKaaaiIIIEEEEEE!!"
Sara León
Just as you land on the floor and I finally let go of you, I drop down into a sitting position off to one side, until my temple touches the ringside floor, and I stay there panting and feeling the sweat run down my body. The entire crowd is going completely wild now, watching both of us sprawled on the floor after witnessing such brutality, but I still need to recover from all the punishment you’ve put me through. I turn my head just enough to see your legs sticking out from the broken table, and I smile slightly as I picture you finally down and battered. After a few seconds, I start moving again, but this time toward the ring apron, mechanically pulling random objects out from underneath it and leaving them on the edge of the ring until I find what I’m looking for. I grab a kendo stick and make my way toward you, kicking aside the pieces of table surrounding you and crouching down to try to turn you over onto your stomach. If I manage it, I’d sit on your lower back while trying to place the kendo stick across your throat and start pulling it upward and backward...
Mina Anderson
I'm laying there, speaking through a gap in the debris that's been churned up around me. I can feel the dry bite of saw dust at the back of my throat every time my chest lifts and swells with a desperate intake of breath as I lay there while the echo of the impact rolls across my body in waves. It's only now that I'm aware of where I'm hurt. All across my back, my ribs, my neck, head and tailbone. Little wonder when I try to move, my limbs don't want to cooperate. The ringing in my ears is starting to fade a little, enough I can hear the noise in the arena lifting with excitement. Whatever you're up to, it can't be good. When the debris cleared and light beams down into my glazed eyes I manage to lift a hand to block it out and to see you looming over me. I kick out.. OR I try to kick out.. In truth a kitten heel lifts, moves to the side a little and then drops again leaving you free to roll me over and climb onto the narrow base of your back. You use the curve of my rear as a base to your saddle. The stick in your hands becomes reigns to snare me and peel my heavy, heaving chest off the ground as you pull back my head til I'm fighting through clenched teeth just to draw much needed breath... "nnnrrssspppff!"
Sara León
My hands grip both ends of the stick with all the strength they can muster, as I pull my arms back and arch my back while trying to bring the back of your head against my abs, trying to bend your battered back at the same time as I press hard against the arteries in your neck. "UP, MINA!!" I shout with a slight hint of sadism, not realizing that your groans are making me enjoy this. The referee approaches with the mic in her hand and steps over the debris until she's close to us, in case you decide to submit. I start sliding the stick slightly upward to press against your chin and give your throat enough room for you to speak. "GIVE UP!!" I yell at you, starting to lose my temper. "GIVE UP OR I'LL BREAK YOU IN HALF!!"
Mina Anderson
The pad of my fingerless gloves slides over one side of the stick and then the other, wrapping my pink crowned fingers around it to offer at least some resistance against your hold. They seem so out of place in all the carnage around us, and yet, it's you that keeps showing that you fundamentally have misunderstood what this is. You're treating it like a submission match where you technical ability can shine rather than the formless fight it is. Formless but you are still in control right now. The more you lean back, the more the musckles in my back clench up and little cuts and bruises scream with anger. "nnnrrnnnn.. nnnrrrnnnn!". I hiss as drool froths up and seeps down my chin and my cheeks bellow when that dumbass ref looms over me. She's just as clueless as you are.. I can't speak with the wooden stick jammed into my throat so tight its bowing across my windpipe, so I settle for shaking my head and letting sweat soak tresses tumble over my reddening, glittering features!
Sara León
You shake your head and the referee looks at me with resignation, and I realize that dragging this out would serve no purpose, so I start getting back to my feet without letting go of the kendo stick, therefore keeping your face off the ground. Then I plant my boot on the back of your neck and start pressing downward, crushing your neck between my boot and the stick as I begin bending it with my hands, waiting for it to finally snap in two and for the pressure of my foot to send your face straight into the floor
Mina Anderson
I can feel you moving behind me, over me shifting the angle of your attack as you cast your shadow across the ground in front of me. A string of drool stretches from my gaping mouth and splats across the ground underneath me. ALl around that spot, the world is starting to pulse in and out of focus and the noise in the arena is starting to sound distant. Under my choker, surely a bruise is forming as the stick bends into it and your weight presses down. Somewhere in the haze, I realise we're on the same side in a way.. We both want to break the stick. I start flexing it with you, even as it chokes tighter and tighter until.. crack.. I hear the wood give and crack and fianlly snap so I drop, face down in the splinters broken panels.. "awuughh... nnnnggg.... fffspppphhh".
Sara León
My boot plunges toward the ground until your head crashes into it, making me lean backward with the two pieces of the stick in each hand and a few splinters still flying through the air. Then I look down at you, panting like a dog and feeling the heat of the arena make the sweat running over my skin boil. And I feel... Really good... As if the panic and pressure to measure up in this match were gradually dissolving. I've wanted to hurt you for days, with some strange force holding that urge back. I crouch down and grab you by the hair, kneeling beside you and bringing your head close to my face, allowing myself a few seconds to smell your perfume and let that pleasant sensation intoxicate me. Without realizing it, I start enjoying having you at my feet and under my control, as I begin pulling your hair and dragging you through the debris with violent tugs, before grabbing you by the miniskirt with one hand and throwing you under the bottom rope. The crowd's tone begins to change, but I no longer notice. I look back, taking in the wreckage we've made of the commentary table, and smile to myself before sliding between the ropes and moving to the center of the ring. No longer afraid, but with a certain sense of relief or liberation that I can't quite explain
Mina Anderson
I lay there, star fished at your feet, with only the occasion lull of my head under your boot, or shuffled slide of a knee showing I'm still conscious, barely. You hunch down beside me, able to peel my face out of the debris and see the splinters littering my cute, painted features. The sweet scene of my perfumes mixed with the fresh layer of sweat gleaming over every inch of bare, China doll flesh offered up so generously by the iconic outfit I wear. A few pearls of blood gleam across my cheeks and brow, almost camoflagued by the glitter and blush painted across my face... almost.. Somewhere in all noise there's a quiet moment where our eyes meet and somewhere behind all the haze swirling through my mind I can sense, that maybe, in a sense I'm starting to achieve a kind of victory here. That's a validating notion and.. a terrifying one. It's not one I can sit with long though. Your hauling me by the hair, igniting fire across my scalp and drawing squeak and chirps that make for the most sweet of melodies for you right now.. "arrrhhh eeekkk.. nnnrrgggg!" I try to keep pace as you jerk and pull til your bunching up my skirt at my waist, showing off how much shorts strain and tense as I stumble and roll under the rope before coming to a stop on my side. I'm still stirring out of my stupor as you move around me and pose in the centre of the ring as if about to let out an unbridled roar... "ooOOhhh... Awwwhgaaa... gaawww...sa.... sarrrahhh....."
Sara León
I grab a metal chair and a bag of thumbtacks from the corner before heading toward the center of the ring. I pass by you, giving your head a condescending shove with my boot to move you out of my way, as I position the folded chair properly in the center of the ring and start pouring the thumbtacks onto it, letting their clinking echo throughout the Hammerstein Ballroom. I toss the empty bag aside as I look at you when you murmur my name, then approach you, crouching down and extending one of your arms so I can stomp down hard on your hand while grabbing you by the hair and bending your head back to force you to look at me. "Did you say my name, Mina?? Is there something you want to say to me or the referee??" I tell you, staring straight into those blue eyes as I make sure your fingers are going through hell beneath the leather of my boot. The desire for you to submit is still there, but you can see something much deeper in my eyes, a primal, restrained satisfaction flooding every one of my features, like water from a dam when it's released
Mina Anderson
Pink strands whip across my face in diagonal streaks when you push my head and get to work. The noise is really starting to peak around the ring, a maelstrom of noise and malice from competing sets of fans and the not small minority here unaffiliated to either of us but drawn by the promise of brutality and malice. I'm moving again at least, spurred on by the ratta tat tat threat of those tacks pouring forth and gleaming brilliantly across and around the waiting chair. I plant my hands and haul my hips into the air, sliding my feet out for grip. Thats when your boot comes crunching down on one hand and I throw my head back, eyes widen with pain. "hhhhyyyrriieEEEeeeEe... aarrnnn.. aaarrrhhllee!". You're in face again, with a feral look in your eyes that makes you unrecognisable from the pious dreary bitch that's been shuffling around at least since Erin showed you that dark mirror. Perhaps even longer. Perhaps since you first got your hands on the belt I fully intend to smash into your face before we're done. Right now though, that couldn't be further from my mind. THere's just your fiery eyes and grinning face leering over me. You still have my hair, peeling my body up til my chests plumped against the canvas. "I just wanted ta...". My gaze lowers a littler from your face, to your neck. Then with my free hand, I swing up trying to catch you out a well placed throat punch!
Sara León
My eyes lock onto your full pink lips, waiting to hear you say anything, any taunt that might give me even more reason to lift you off the mat and send you flying. Or perhaps a plea for mercy... My eyes widen with anticipation, wanting to hear your sweet voice under these circumstances, whatever you have to say, and then... -THUUUCKKK!!- Your free fist arcs through the air and ends up buried in my throat, making me believe for a few seconds that you've broken the bones in my neck and driven them into my windpipe. My head snaps backward, and consequently so does my body, making me release your stomped hand and fall ass-first onto the mat, rolling until I'm lying on my side as I clutch my throat with both hands and writhe in pain trying to breathe, until finally a hoarse, rasping roar bursts from my lungs: "AAAARGGGGGHHHHHH!! BIIITCH!!!"
Mina Anderson
There's a flash of satisfaction as you go reeling back as if choking on something other than your own smugness! But I'm not in great shape either. A few claret tracks litter my face like cobwebs. There are more around my shoulders where a few twig like splitters still protrude. But it's my hand that I'm cradling as I wince and wiggle my fingers. One feel stiff and rigid. The way it's swelling up I can't tell if its s bruise or a break. It's my left hand rather than the dominant one but it's still going to a problem right as the match is starting to unravel and resemble the battle I envisioned from the start. You're rolling around a few feet away as I plant my feet and for the first time in what seems like an age, get up and feel my skirt tumble back down over my sinfully tight short shorts. "Bitch? Surely youc an be more creative than that?" I hiss even though I'm flat out of imagination too. So I step in and swing a boot like I was trying to score a penalty kick, aimed right at your bare midsection!
Sara León
"UUNNGGHHHHH!!!" Your boot sinks into my stomach as my entire body folds even further, leaving me almost in the fetal position, a stream of saliva spraying from my mouth as my arms leave my throat and move to my abdomen. I stay curled up like that for a few seconds, coughing, writhing, and gasping, feeling the blood from my nose already soaking my lips and making me taste my own blood. However, your little taunt draws a faint smile from me through the pain. "Oh, believe me... I'm dying to unleash my creativity on you, angel..."
Mina Anderson
Back on top and in control. It's an exhilarating feeling to let my momentum swing me through your crumpling body so I'm stood with my back to you yet keen aware of how your slithering and wheezing behind my kitten heels while I stand with hands on my hips drinking in the energy all around me. "You're reign's the only thing that's dying tonight Sara. Listen.. It's what they all want." Or at least it's what alof of them want. The fans are split fairly evenly but it's mine that are making all the noise right now, chanting "Ang-Gel Ang-Gel Ang-Gel!". The noise is only gonna go up if I get my way. But the only thing you'll hear is your brain rattling around in your skull. I shuffle back bringing my feet either side of your head before I drop onto all fours. From there I try to clamp my thighs around your head and start rocking my pelvis into the mat, face planting you over and over again as long as I can til My legs slip free and I slink away like the cat that's got the cream...
Published: 10 days ago, viewed 51 times.
Sara León
7 days agoContinues in Part 2: https://venus.chatfighters.com/story/90916
Concludes in Part 3: https://venus.chatfighters.com/story/90917