Only Pro Chat-Wrestling

14:03 Dutch: I make my way into the arena first, walking towards the ring with confident strides looking to shine in the OPCW event, and as I arrive ringside I climb the steps and slide into the ring through the top ropes. Wearing black sports shorts and no shirt I walk into my corner and start stretching and bending for warmup while waiting for my opponent. Then I finish up and raise my right arm, flexing my bicep and smiling friendly while asking "Are you ready for this?"

14:03 Dutch:

14:13 NattyFights: The lights dim as a deep, rhythmic beat pulses through the arena. The crowd buzzes with anticipation. I take a deep breath—this is my debut, my time. Announcer: "Making her way to the ring, hailing from Southeast Asia, standing at 5'6" and weighing in at 138 pounds, the sensation... Natty!!" Fog rolls from the stage as golden lights flicker. I step out, my black robe flowing behind me, hood up. I take a slow, deliberate step forward, the crowd's eyes on me. At the top of the ramp, I pause and smirk, soaking in the moment. With a dramatic flair, I throw my arms wide, tossing the hood back and revealing my black swimsuit underneath. The sleek design clings to my body, the white boots and padding completing my look. The cheers grow louder as I strut down the ramp, each step confident, feeding off the energy. Dutch is already in the ring, but I don’t even look at him. This is my stage. At the apron, I pause, place a hand on the rope, and throw my head back, striking a powerful pose. I slip into the ring, head to the center, and stretch my arms wide, lifting my head high with a grin. The crowd roars as I climb the turnbuckle, raising one fist in the air, exuding confidence and dominance. I leap down, walk to the opposite corner, and stare directly into the camera, smirking. I flex my arms, showing off my power, and hop down again, heading to my corner. The air is electric. The bell’s about to ring, and I’m ready to make sure everyone remembers my name.

14:13 NattyFights:

14:17 Dutch: Impressed by your entrance I look you over and enjoy the view as I see you flex as well, but confident in my strength and having a size advantage as I stand 5'10" and 175 lbs I keep a smile on my face while I wait for the bell to ring, eager to get my hands on my new opponent. Then the bell rings and I immediately move out of my corner with my hands held out in front of me, raising them towards you as I invite you to lock up with me in the center of the ring "Show me what you've got, girl!" I say in anticipation.

14:20 NattyFights: As the bell rings, I see you step out of your corner with that confident smile on your face. You’re bigger, sure—5'10" and 175 lbs, while I’m standing at 5'6", but I’m not intimidated. In fact, the thought of this intergender match gets my blood pumping even more. You want to see what I’ve got? Oh, you’re about to find out. I circle around you, keeping my eyes locked on yours, smirking as I size you up. "You think size is everything, huh?" I taunt, but my focus is sharp. You’ve got your hands raised, inviting me to lock up, and I know that you think you can overpower me. Well, let’s see about that. I dart in, locking up with you in the center of the ring. For a second, you push, trying to throw your weight around. But I’ve trained for moments like this. I use my speed and technique, shifting my body low, slipping my arm under yours, and spinning behind you with a quick amateur wrestling move. I’ve got your back now, one arm wrapped around your waist.

14:21 NattyFights: I drop down and try to sweep your leg, taking you off balance.

14:25 Dutch: I smile as you reach for my hands, and I try to interlock my fingers with your and squeeze them around your hands, but as I flex my upper body muscles and push forward you surprise me with your speed and slip behind me, making me stumble forward while you sweep one my legs out from under me. "Whoa!" I exclaim in surprise and lose my balance as I fall towards the mat, trying to land on my elbow and roll forward in an attempt to reduce the impact and roll away from you.

14:28 NattyFights: As you roll forward and escape my grasp, I quickly scramble to my feet, keeping my momentum sharp. You may have slipped out of my attempt to control you with that side headlock, but I’m far from done. I rise smoothly and put my arms up again, smirking as I circle around you. "You didn’t expect that, did you?" I tease, my eyes locked on you, watching your every movement. "Come on, Dutch, I thought you wanted to see what I’ve got." I keep my stance low, light on my feet as I move, ready to engage again. The crowd’s energy fuels me as I circle around the ring, waiting for you to make your next move. My smirk grows wider, taunting you with a playful confidence, inviting you to test me again. "Let’s see if you can keep up this time."

14:34 Dutch: I escape before you can take advantage and get back to my feet while keeping my eyes on you to avoid any surprises. Seeing your confidence rise as you scored the first move, but now I carefully approach you and reach out for your right wrist with both hands, trying to yank you off balance and towards me while I sidestep and try to slip behind your back with your wrist still in my hand, attempting to twist it behind your back for a hammerlock attempt "My turn, honey"

14:36 NattyFights: As you grab my right wrist, yanking me towards you with a firm grip, I feel the pull throw me off balance. My breath catches as you sidestep, skillfully maneuvering behind me and twisting my arm into a hammerlock. The sudden pressure shoots pain up my arm, and I let out a sharp squeak, the discomfort evident.

14:37 NattyFights: With my arm wrenched behind me, I can feel the heat of the match starting to build, my body responding with the onset of sweat. Despite the pain, I focus, my mind racing for a counter. I take a quick, steadying breath and shift my weight, stepping to the side to create some space between us.

14:38 NattyFights: With a swift move, I moved behind you, twisting under your arm, and in one fluid motion, I reverse our positions. Now behind you, I secure your arm in a hammerlock, pressing it up slightly to let you feel the sting.

14:42 Dutch: I wrench your arm up against your back and slowly start increasing the pressure, hearing your breathing as you struggle while I push myself up close against your back, getting ready for my follow up move as you step to the side and skillfully counter my move. "wh..ayt!?" I exclaim surprised now with my arm twisted behind my back. "ngggh!" I grunt as I flex my arm, trying to resist as long as I can while I push my right foot back between your legs, hooking it behind your ankle and pulling my leg forward, trying to pull yours out from under you, hoping to take you off balance and force you to let go.

14:45 NattyFights: You grunt, flexing your arm, trying to power out of the hold, but I’m keeping my grip firm. Then, you push your foot back between my legs, hooking it behind my ankle. Your movement catches me off guard, and you yank forward, pulling my leg with yours. I lose my balance and stumble backward. Despite the fall, my instincts kick in—I'm not just going to let this slip away. As I fall, I grab onto you, using your momentum against you. I roll you up into a tight bridging pin, pressing my back against your shoulders and arching to keep you locked in. "Got you now!" I say, feeling the referee slide into position for the count.

14:49 Dutch: I take you off balance and feel the pressure on my arm lift, but then your hands grab hold of me and before I realize what's happening you take me down with you and roll me up for a surprise pin. I hear the count start and it takes me a moment to collect my bearings, but I flex my muscles and at the count of two I kick out with a loud grunt to avoid a humiliating pin early in the match.

14:53 NattyFights: As you kick out with a forceful grunt at the count of two, breaking the pin, the intensity of the match escalates. I quickly scramble to my feet, not wanting to lose the momentum I've gained. As you rise to a kneeling position, slightly disoriented from the sudden roll-up, I seize the opportunity. With a swift motion, I dash towards you and deliver a solid knee strike to your chest, pushing you back against the ropes. The impact reverberates through the ring, and the crowd reacts to the aggressive move. You're forced against the ropes, momentarily stunned by the knee strike. Not giving you a chance to recover, I grab your arm and pull you up to your feet with a firm grip. I use all my strength to whip you across the ring, sending you running towards the opposite ropes. As you rebound off the ropes and come charging back towards me, I prepare for my next move, jumping into the air and trying to take you down with a dropkick!

14:58 Dutch: As I get up you are already all over me and drive me into the ropes, grunting in pain as you whip me into the ropes on the other side while I gasp for air. Trying to slow myself a little as I bounce out of the ropes to give me time to react as I see you charging at me, but as you jump up and kick your feet forward I kick my feet forward low over the mat, leaning back and letting myself drop as I try to slide under your dropkick, hoping you'll crash down against the canvas while I turn and get back onto all fours.

15:00 NattyFights: I leap into the air for a dropkick, aiming to take you down with a direct hit. But you're quicker than I anticipated. With a clever maneuver, you slide low across the mat, dodging beneath my flying feet. My eyes widen as I realize I'm about to hit nothing but air. I crash onto the mat with a heavy thud, the impact jarring through my body. I quickly push away the sting of the fall, scrambling to regain my footing. I'm aware that any moment of vulnerability could be costly. As I hustle to my feet, I keep a wary eye on you, making sure you're not closing in to capitalize on my mistake. My muscles tense, ready to move at the slightest hint of your approach.

15:04 Dutch: I hear you land and smile as I turn around hoping for you to be stunned, but you are already getting back to your feet. Still trying to keep the advantage I get back to my feet, trying to be up before you and rush towards you with as little sound as possible, trying to surprise you as I close in while you turn around and I extend my arm... Moving to your side I try to smack my arm across your upper chest, hoping I can stun you with a clothesline attempt.

15:09 NattyFights: As I spin around to face you, the match's intensity amplifies. You've already regained your footing and are moving swiftly towards me with stealth. Before I can fully assess the situation, your arm swings out, aiming directly for my upper chest. The sudden clothesline hits with an audible smack, my sweat spraying into the air like a fine mist under the arena lights. The force of your blow sends me crashing back onto the canvas. The impact reverberates through my body, and for a moment, the breath is knocked out of me. I lay there, trying to gather my senses, feeling the momentum shift as you seize the upper hand.

15:14 Dutch: My arm connects and I hear you land on your back again as I pass you and turn around to find you spread out on your back. "Not so fast anymore?" I taunt as my confidence return after your strong start. Standing at your head and looking over your body I reach down and grab you with both hands, trying to yank your stunned body back to your feet as I slide my arms around your abs from behind. Grabbing my own wrists I flex my biceps and pull your back against my chest, attempting to crush the strength out of your body in a reverse bearhug.

15:18 NattyFights: As I lie on the mat, dazed from the force of your clothesline, I hear your taunt echo through the ring. Your confidence is palpable, but I'm not ready to concede just yet. You grab me by the shoulders, pulling my still reeling body to its feet. Before I can fully regain my composure, I feel your arms slide around my midsection from behind, locking me in a tight reverse bearhug. Your grip tightens, and the pressure builds against my ribs and back, squeezing the air from my lungs. I let out a yell, the pain and the intensity of the hold setting my nerves alight. The sweat beads on my skin, making your grip slick but no less punishing. Desperate to break free and turn the match back in my favor, I start to throw elbows back, aiming blindly but with determination. Each movement sends a jolt of pain through my body, but I focus on the hope that one sharp elbow will find its target—your face.

15:23 Dutch: My biceps flex against your skin, feeling a thin layer of sweat on my body as well from the intense match so far, but my hold is locked in well enough to keep you there while I hear you suffer as I bend your ribs. But it's not enough to to overpower you as you start swinging your elbow, and while I'm focused focused on squeezing I can still evade the first one by tilting my head, but the next one is aimed better and smacks into my cheek. My hold weakens and I stagger to the side to keep my balance, and as I lose my advantage I try to twist my body to the side before letting you go, hoping I can toss you across the canvas while I reach for my jaw with my hand.

15:32 NattyFights: Determined to break free, I continue to swing my elbows back. You manage to dodge the first, but persistence pays off. My second elbow connects solidly with your cheek, the impact forcing a grunt from you and loosening your hold. I feel your body stagger, and you twist, attempting to throw me across the canvas. However, your disorientation from the hit gives me a crucial moment. I slip out of your loosened grip and quickly catch my breath, seizing the brief window of opportunity. As you reach for your jaw and try to recover, I step in, hooking my arm around your neck and leveraging your bent posture. With a swift, powerful motion, I lift and then drop you onto the mat with a backdrop driver!

15:39 Dutch: Unable to toss you I stagger backwards while I shake my head to recover but then I feel your arm lock around my neck as you show off your strength and lift me up and slam me down before I can react. "unngggh!" I grunt out loud as the ring shakes as I land on my shoulders first as my arms and legs drop on my side, shaking my head to regain my senses.

15:44 NattyFights: As you stagger and try to shake off the effects of the elbow strike, I quickly wipe the sweat from my brow, capitalizing on your momentary disorientation. I move swiftly, grasping your arm to help you to your feet, not out of courtesy but to set you up for the next punishing move. With a firm grip, I position you exactly where I need you. My other arm encircles your torso, pulling you in close for just a second as if to steady you, but the intent is clear. In one fluid motion, I lift you slightly off the mat, then forcefully drop you down across my posted knee. Your back meets my knee with a harsh impact, a classic backbreaker! "You thought you had me, didn't you?" I taunt

15:50 Dutch: Still weakened by the impact you pull me back to my feet and I try to resist, pushing my hand against your body but it slips off when you lift me off the canvas again. My eyes widen as I can't do anything else but brace for impact, but I scream out in pain loud as I land with my back across your knee instead of the canvas. My back arches across your knee and my eyes close for a moment as the pain shoots through my body. Weakened by your hard hitting slams I hear you taunt, but stammer out "nn..o.o." as I raise my hands, pushing one against your body and the other under your chin, trying to roll off your knee before you make it even worse for me.

15:54 NattyFights: Hearing your stammered protest, I can sense your resilience waning, but I know the match isn't over until it's over. Quickly, I slide you off my knee, not out of mercy but to transition into something even more debilitating. I drag you by the arms to the center of the ring, ensuring there's no rope in easy reach for you to grab. With a swift motion, I turn you onto your back and then flip you onto your stomach. I sit down on your back, hooking your legs under my arms. I lean back, pulling your legs towards me as I lock in a tight Boston crab. The position arches your back even further, the strain visible as I apply more pressure. "Come on, Dutch! Tap out! It's over," I shout over the roar of the crowd, my voice firm and commanding.

16:01 Dutch: "wh..at.. no.." I stammer out as you drag me away from the ropes, unable to resist but trying to regain my senses while you do so, but you grab my legs and turn me over onto my abs without mercy. Seeing the ropes far away my eyes widen as you overpower my legs and bend my body. The pain is visible on my face and I try to resist, feeling my muscles strain but I'm unable to stop you from bending me. But desperately I still try to fight back as I ball my right fist and push my face flat on the canvas, rolling slightly onto my left shoulder hoping it creates enough space as I throw my arm backwards in an attempt to slam my elbow into your ribs hoping I can still escape.

16:06 NattyFights: As you try to fight back, rolling slightly onto your shoulder in a desperate attempt to create space, I can feel the tension in your muscles under my grip. Your right fist clenches, and you manage to throw an elbow backward, aiming for my ribs. The impact forces me to reconsider my position; I release the Boston crab, unwilling to risk you landing another hit that could shift the momentum of the match. I quickly pull you back up to your feet, noting your fatigue and the pain etched across your face. Without giving you a moment to recover, I shove you towards the corner of the ring. You stumble and crash against the turnbuckles, the impact causing you to slump slightly. I step in close, throwing a series of sharp backhand chops across your chest. Each slap echoes through the arena, drawing reactions from the crowd with every hit. The sound of skin meeting skin is sharp and quick, marking my control over the match. As the crowd reacts to the chops, I decide to add humiliation to the physical challenge. I press forward, smothering your face against my armpit. The sweat from the match makes the contact all the more uncomfortable for you. "How do you like that?" I taunt, pressing harder as I use my body to pin you against the corner, ensuring you're overwhelmed not just by the pain but by the intense closeness and heat of the battle.

16:15 Dutch: I feel the pressure lift as you release the boston crab, but before I can escape you force me into the corner where I stay on my feet only by the support of the cornerpost and my arms dangling over the ropes, left vulnerable against your chops, feeling the pain increase with every hit and realizing I'll be feeling that all week. Feeling overwhelmed I am relieved as you stop, but then I feel you pull my face into your armpit! "mmfff..." Barely able to breathe I try to keep my feet under me for support while you try to squash me between your hot body and the cornerpost. Unable to hide my arousal as our bodies grind together I still resist and reach for your chin with my hand, trying to bend your head backwards hoping I can pop my head free from your humiliating smother.

16:20 NattyFights: Reluctantly, I release you from the smother, stepping back as you stagger out of the corner, gasping for air. I watch you closely, every movement calculated. As you come towards me, still disoriented, I backpedal slightly, timing my next move with precision. Just as you close in, I snap forward with a sharp toe kick to your midsection, halting your advance and doubling you over in pain. Seizing the moment, I quickly grab your head, tucking it between my thighs in preparation for a devastating move. With a strong grip around your waist, I lift you up, positioning you upside down. The crowd rises in anticipation as I pause for a brief second, then drive you headfirst into the mat with a powerful piledriver. The impact sends a shockwave through the ring, and I can feel the finality of the move as I cover you for the pin. Laying across you, I hook one of your legs, pressing down firmly to ensure you can't kick out. "Count!" I yell to the referee, my chest heaving with exertion, ready to claim the victory after a hard-fought match. The referee slides into position, hand slapping the mat.

16:27 Dutch: I push free from your smother and stagger out of the corner still thinking I can turn the tables, but before I reach you I'm bent over gasping for air from your well aimed kick. My hands grab the back of your thighs when you trap my head between them but I'm weakened too much to pull free. You pull my feel off the canvas and flip me upside down while I stammer out "nn.n.o.o." but without mercy you slam me down hard! All but knocked out my arms drop to my side, motionless as you cover my body for the pin. The continues the count with 2, but all I can do is grunt and groan in pain waiting for the inevitable count of 3...

16:31 NattyFights: After the intense match, my entire body is covered in a layer of sweat, evidence of the hard-fought battle I just endured in the ring. The bright lights above the arena make the droplets glistening on my skin even more visible, reflecting off each bead as I move and speak. My hair is soaked, clinging to my forehead and neck, a mess of wet strands that tell the story of my physical exertion. As I raise my arms to celebrate or grip the microphone to address the crowd, the muscles in my arms and shoulders shine, highlighted by the sheen of sweat that coats them. My wrestling attire feels like a second skin, drenched and clinging to every contour of my physique

16:32 NattyFights: Droplets of sweat run down my face and neck as I speak, sparkling under the arena lights. Despite the physical toll, this sheen of sweat is a badge of honor, signifying the intensity and passion with which I fought, pushing me to endure and ultimately triumph in this challenging confrontation. As I climb onto the second turnbuckle to bask in the roar of the crowd,"Tonight," I begin, my voice echoing through the arena, "you witnessed what determination looks like! This ring," I gesture broadly, "is where I prove that size doesn't define strength. That courage and tenacity can take down any opponent, no matter how big they are!" The crowd cheers wildly, feeding off my energy as I continue, "Dutch put up a good fight, but tonight was my night!" I let the microphone drop slightly, sweeping my gaze over the sea of faces. "So, whoever's next, better watch out, because I'm ready for anyone, anytime. This is my ring, and I'm here to stay!" Dropping the mic, I throw one last triumphant fist into the air, the cheers of the crowd fueling my pride, ready for whatever comes next.