Sista A Vs Karen Starring II: Retracing Steps

Karen couldn't rise if she wanted to. The shot was picture perfect, the equivalent of a spear straight to the gut. Karen's eyes had already watered somewhat from the sheer pain of the move, a dribble forming on her mouth and drooping from her lips from the sheer force of it being knocked from her. Raising her head slowly, she'd intent to shoot Sista A the darkest look she could muster, only to this time find her foe using both legs against her.

Her stance used against her, Sista A swung the leg around somewhat pristinely again in a picture perfect motion; catching Karen fully in the cheek and sending the blonde straight to her back. She'd lay in a spread eagle position, wheezing, hands unsure whether to rub the pain in her stomach or the fresh pain to her head.

Sista was smiling. Oh, she'd started out smiling, had smiled throughout the match so far, and would continue to smile if given half a chance. But when she nailed Karen with the Shining Wizard, her grin almost reached Cheshire levels. It wasn't every day that you got the opportunity to pull off a move like that, but it sure as hell felt good.

She rolled off Karen after the blonde came flopping down, and as much as her first instinct was to get up and gloat, she knew how rare this opportunity could be. Second time around, no mistakes.

Sista A popped back up to her feet, jumped up, then flopped down on Karen’s chest, pinning her down while the referee slid in.

”1…!”

Now make no mistake, Karen was by no means a queen of taekwondo. Save for a push kick or occasional big boot, the big blonde rarely used her legs in such a manner. But she didn't need to be a pro in said techniques to know that a kick as painful as a Shining wizard required not only skill to perform, but excellent timing. Or a placid, easy to hit foe.

Her heavy frame would hit the mat neatly, arms spread, before Sista A's frame found itself on top. Her foe was by no means a heavyweight, but even a kawaii pressing down on Karen right about now would of felt crushing, considering her head had just nearly been taken off her shoulders.

Eye's closed, the referee's follow-up call of "2!..." Came as easy as the first, before Karen's eyes finally opened, watching the hand of the referee come down for what would of been the finishing blow. Suddenly spurring alive, she'd raise her right as high as she could, saving herself with not a moment to spare. Although with her head still swirling like a waltzer, Karen certainly wouldn't of said no to a spare moment herself.

As much as Sista A hated Ms. Spencer, she felt they had certain things in common. Bust size, obviously. Hair color. But, most surprisingly, she thought they were both teachers in their own little way. Ms. Spencer liked to dispense knowledge with lesson plans and pop quizzes. Sista A liked to educate people with her fists and feet, teaching them what they already should’ve known: that she was better than them.

She’d thought that Karen was picking up on the lesson well enough. Apparently not. She didn’t have the good sense to stay down when she was pinned by her betters. That was an easy fix.

Only a moment after she pushed up, Sista A started hammering her in the face with vicious rights, pummeling her back into the mat as the referee insisted she back off.

She would. In a moment. She was enjoying herself too much to slam on the brakes.

Part of Karen suspected Sista A would somewhat back off after the failed pin attempt. Maybe throw a taunt, regain her composure, or even wind up a hell of a follow-up kick. It's what Karen would certainly do, had she had the reins as much as her opponent had now. Sadly, she wasn't allowed such a moment.

Mounted by the smaller but by no means lesser woman, Karen would soon come to realise that whilst Sista A specialised in the use of her legs, her fists weren't exactly soft either. The first strike would connect neatly, not only snapping Karen's head backwards and sideways, but straight away shooting a huge amount of spittle from her mouth directly onto the canvas. Her arms would come up to try to prevent the follow-up strikes, but they weren't exactly helping. Not after the first strike hit the nail right on the head, with extreme force to boot.

Left, right, right, right, left, left, left, right, left, right, left…

Sista A hammered away at Karen’s defenses with reckless and wild abandon, alternating at random and enjoying every second of it. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who’d wrecked Aisha when they’d fought months ago. She wasn’t any weaker than she’d been back then, but something was off. Something was different.

Not that Sista A gave a single shit. Hardly her problems.

After a final, vicious blow, Sista A popped back up to her feet and drove her heel into Karen’s gut, making sure the spike went in deep. A second after it connected, she turned away from the titaness with arms raised high and her thumbs pointed downwards, looking out in the huddled masses.

”Who’s the baddest bitch in the building?! Huh?!”

Karen's own defence had turned to a simple pair of arms trying to keep between the strikes. They weren't held firm, as Karen simply didn't have the ability to do so currently. They were simply a pair of limbs being forced repeatedly back into Karen's previously smug mug, that is of course when Sista A's strikes weren't connecting directly.

She'd immediately try to draw breath as the more toned figure finally relented, own stomach rising as she drew said breath, before a harsh gut stomp crushed it right back out of her. Her head would shoot up in a second of pure agony, before sinking back to the canvas. Her face wasn't bruised, yet, but her features had all the redness and swelling of a woman that would definitely wake up with puffy cheeks. At minimum.

Turning onto her side, the blonde would painstakingly turn her big body into a push up position of sorts, before letting loose a saliva-filled cough. She'd splutter heavily, regaining her breath, but at this point, the majority of the audience felt like Karen was simply putting fuel into a broken engine. She was practically delaying the inevitable.

As fun as this was, Sista A couldn't lose sight of the prize. Not now. Not when things were so firmly in hand that she could almost taste the victory on her lips, savor the sweet moment when she put this bitch down for the three count.

She had so many sweet ideas on how to get to that point, too.

First, though, business had to be dealt with. She wanted Karen flat.

As the behemoth brute rose up, Sista A ran up towards her from the side, closing in with a long stride. When she was close enough, she jumped up, placed the back of her heel against Karen’s neck, then hammered her skull into the floor with a vicious curb stomp, slamming her face to the mat with all her weight behind it.

Karen, completely unaware, set herself perfectly up for a wide arrange of leg based manoeuvres, all of them terrifying. Another swinging shining wizard. A possibly career ending punt kick. A life threatening curb stomp.

The latter, somewhat brutally, seemed to be the choice of the day for Sista A, as the more toned, controlling figure regained distance with her downed prey just as quickly as she had lost it, extending foot without counter from Karen. The blonde was lucky on her part; had her foe chose to stomp directly on her head, the results would of been all reminisce of a R-Rated film. Whilst having her neck stepped on hurt like hell, Karen could at least thank that her head was simply slammed against the mat, rather than outright crushed.

Screaming in outright agony, the bigger woman went numb as her head slurred, drooling somewhat unsightly. She wasn't out cold; but the pain in her cheek and skull in general, almost made her wish she was.

And down went the bitch.

The arena collectively winced away as Karen’s head hit the mat with dangerous force, driven home by the fearsome blow, the impact echoing through the stands. Even the referee, a seasoned veteran in her own right, wound up shrinking away from the violence.

The only person who didn’t seem to care about Karen’s wellbeing was the woman doing the damage herself. Sista A’s smile was wide and briight, watching her hated foe wither underneath her heel. Right where she belong. Right where she would stay.

Sista A bent down and flipped Karen over with a mighty heave, getting the titan on her back. With that done, she stood up, placed a heel on her heaving bosom, and went for a cocky pin.

”Stay down.” Sista A commanded Karen as the referee went for the count. A part of her almost hoped the big girl wouldn’t take her advice.

”1…!”