Inspired by the wrestler Mutiny.
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The arena seemed to shake as the fans roared. Their bloodlust had been building steadily, and now, thirty minutes into the match, it seemed that the climax was only moments, maybe seconds, away.
"Ask him!" the blonde told the ref.
The woman's golden hair rippled in the arena lights. She stood in the exact center of the ring, bending forward. In between her powerful, curvy thighs, she had the man's arms trapped. He sat helplessly, his legs splayed out in front of him, his arms pulled back, elbows touching, caught in between his opponent's sexy legs. His mouth was distorted, almost comically, as the woman had hooked two fingers of each of her hands inside his cheeks, stretching and twisting his tender skin.
"Do you submit?" the ref asked, holding the microphone to his face.
The woman relaxed her hold on his mouth so that he could answer.
"No," he managed to grunt, shaking his head.
"Give me the microphone," the blonde tormentress commanded. She took the mic from the ref and looked down at her beaten victim, squirming before her. Her cleavage bounced inside her red one-piece wrestling singlet as she laughed at his agony. Reaching down with her right hand, she dragged her scarlet nails from the man's navel up the length of his chest, red lines marking her painful progress.
She held the microphone in front of his face with her left hand while she squeezed his throat with her right, again digging her nails into his tender skin.
"Say the words," she commanded.
He remained silent other than his groans of pain.
She twisted his head painfully backward, so that he was looking straight up into her face. The arena lights glistened on her moist, red lips, as she ran her tongue around her mouth in anticipation.
She adjusted her grip and squeezed again. The man felt as though she would decapitate him with her one small hand. Suddenly he could take no more.
"I give! I give! Stop! Please!"
"Say the words," she commanded.
"I submit!"
