Handcuffs: Youth Vs. Experience! Diao-chan Vs. Lynette

Junko could barely hear the words of the french woman, her head was throbbing and she blinked away the blurry vision of the mat in front of her. Her head lifted up, only to be pushed back into the mat by Lynette's boot. Her right hand scratched at the mat but she could do nothing more. She knew the end was coming and her heart pounded. She wondered as well if she really did have any kind of shot to win the match or if she was a fool from the beginning. Her body shivered as the first cuff clasped around her rest and she closed her eyes in silent resignation.

In this pristine moment of clarity, looking down at her beaten, barely moving opponent, Lynette smugly concluded that the match was over, even though that pretty little wrist of Diao-chan remained unchained. Glancing up darkly at the crowd and flashing an aristocratic smile to them all, Lynette would lean down to forcibly 'arrange' Junko, pulling her off of her stomach and onto her knees, only to shove her back down to the mat so her rear was perked up for the spectators to take one last look at before the match was truly over.

Keeping an eye on the general demeanor of Diao-chan's consciousness, and ready to stomp her back down should she make an attempt to stand, Lynette circled her prey, a new fire licking at the corners of her gaze, like a predator inspecting its kill. She finally paused behind her foe, and purred sweetly, honeyed foreign words meant for Diao-chan alone: "Bravo, madame...Vous ne devriez pas vous blâmer. Il est destinÃe..."

Then, with a sudden streak of playful cruelty, her fingers hooked in the empty half of the handcuffs that leashed Diao-chan's left wrist and her foot returning to the back of Diao-chan's neck, Lynette jerked up hard, wringing Diao-chan's arm back behind her making the position likely even more pained and demoralizing for the older wrestler.

Junko had been waiting for the clasp of the cuff to go across her second hand but it never came. She felt Lynette shifting and adjusting but not winning. Her eyes widened as she was roughly hauled up and forced to expose her ass tot he crowd. Her shorts were so low cut and tight that the crowd did indeed get a nice view of her still quite supple bum. Even still, those who were exceptionally keen in their ogling would see A shot of Junko's breasts, her school girl top falling down and revealing her sports bra just enough.

But as embarrassing as it was, Junko was more concerned with other things. She heard Lynette speak and mumbled something back in Japanese. If the two wanted to not talk to each other, Junko could arrange it. She winced as her head was slammed painfully back down but still noticed Lynette's haughty attitude. She was being disrespected again and was not going to stand for it. She lashed out a mule like kic from her position hoping to slam her heel as hard as she could right at the point of Lynette's knee, smashing into the girl's patella as much as possible. If she could succeed a kick like that would be both painful and unbalancing. Could she really possibly turn the fight around? As long as Lynette didn't see it coming she might have a chance.

Lynette's confident aplomb was legendary; in school, she had ruthlessly clawed her way to the top tier of all of her interests and studies, and she wore the mantle of the de Villiers name with an air that demanded satisfaction from all of her pursuits. Here in the AFW, it appeared that little had changed. She had not regretted her decision to further punish and embarrass Diao-chan before cuffing her wrists and cleanly claiming her match point; it would serve as an example to all watchers, the solo fighters, the rival factions, and to those who doubted Lynette's drive to become the most respected (and feared, if necessary) name in the league.

That was, she had not regretted it until Diao-chan's heel snapped backward, hard and vehemently, into Lynette's knee. In one moment, the french fatale had the entire match scenario wrapped around her finger, easily guiding the fight to its appropriate conclusion while Junko lay prone, hardly stirring and expectantly waiting to lose.

As a surge of white-hot pain clutched her knee, Lynette's eyes widened as she withheld the pain for a brave few moments, before she cried out in agony and her legs buckled beneath her. Falling onto her side, Lynette grasped at her leg, her first thought infinitely thankful that there had been no tell-tale 'crack' in her kneecap. It was quickly drowned, however, by uncharacteristic little gasps and more characteristic angry hisses and snaps, a stream of french curses trickling from her lips.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Her inner thoughts screamed. So the fight wasn't over yet. Lesson learned.

Junko gritted her teeth when she felt her heel connect with Lynette's knee. Her fingers clenched into tight fists and her heard began to pound. Her ear twitched as she waited for a sound to confirm the damage. Her eyes widened for a moment when it did not come. N-no way... She'd think but would be comforted by the cry that soon came and the small reverberation of the mat as Lynette collapsed. She pushed herself up, panting as she ran on adrenaline now. A new spark of life burned in her and she was ready to take it to Lynette now. She wasn't feeling playful anymore. disrespected twice now, she was looking to teach Lynette a real lesson.

Junko spun around and looked at the agonizing Lynette with a gleam in her eye. "You didn't learn your lesson the first time... momma's going to have to really spank you good." She practically growled the words as she reached out for the ankle of Lynette's injured leg. If she could grab it, she'd press the heel of her boot against the side of Lynette's knee and pull on the ankle to try and painfully bend the knee in a different way. If she could work the french girl's knee over, she might even be able to equal out the punishment Lynette had delivered to her earlier.