Gemma Faraday vs. Teddy Cat Hori: Going Hardcore

Gemma let out a loud, chest-deflating sigh of relief, as she realized she'd gotten her arm up, before the referee had managed to finish the count. "Thank God," she said, in a low voice. The time she'd gotten to rest had paid off, but she was going to need more, she figured. Hell, really, what she needed was about a week in some ice water and a small crate of whiskey if she was going to properly recover, but that wasn't going to happen, right now.

So, when Teddy began yanking her back to her feet, Gemma couldn't really offer any resistance other than a pained wince. The British girl let her arms hang limply at her sides, trying to conserve energy. Teddy had taken her to her limits, tonight. Beyond them, in some regards, as she realized her inner thighs were still lightly trembling. Now, she just prayed to survive long enough to get her bearings.

While Teddy pushed her back to the turnbuckle, Gemma briefly flashed back through every agonizing loss she'd suffered in AFW. They'd all felt a lot like this one. That sense of impending doom, waiting for whatever final horror was about to befall her battered body, right up until the end. She had come so close this time too, dammit! Just one more chance, she told herself- just one more rally, if she could only muster it!

Gemma bit her lip as she got her bum planted on the turnbuckle. She didn't know what a "kitty-plex" was, but she was betting that taking one was not nearly as adorable as hearing about it. Looking at Teddy's struggling, lean figure as she put Gemma into place, Gemma realized this was her window. Her last chance to turn things around. She needed this, desperately! Biting her lip even harder, Gemma shot out with an elbow right to Teddy's toned abs. Then, another, and another. Repeatedly, the British girl would hammer away at her feline foe, until she could manage to unseat the cat girl and knock her right off of the turnbuckle, hopefully to that chair waiting menacingly below them! Otherwise, it was going to be another long, heartbreaking night for the white-haired British steampunker!

Teddy had been about to set Gemma up for...whatever the fuck a "Kitty-Plex" was, when a hard fist shot into her stomach, followed by several more, each shot forcing a gasp out of Teddy's lips, the girl struggling to keep her breath and her balance before another hard shot made her lose both, falling back off the turnbuckle and landing back first on the same chair she intended for Gemma!

"Aaaagh-aghh!"

Teddy cried, arching her back as she landed on the hard steel, whimpering and writhing on the ground, the crowd cheering as they sensed a comeback!

Gemma gasped, as she watched Teddy come crashing down onto the chair, below. "Damn," she whispered, not having expected her counter to go off quite that well. She winced at the sight of the cute little cat girl writhing on the ground, her lean body in clear agony. Gemma sympathized, but reminded herself that if it weren't Teddy down there, it would definitely be her. And this match would be ending in another brutal loss.

Gemma could feel the beads of sweat running down her face, trickling down her top and disappearing into the depths of her cleavage. Her body was in a strange state. She was still in absolute agony, with the brutal hardcore beating that Teddy had dished out. The rest of her, however, was still in the afterglow of the ... unexpected twist, the match had taken beneath the ring. Gemma shook her head, her braids coming a bit more loose as she did so. Pushing it all aside as best she could, Gemma knew that this was her shot. If she was going to finish this off, it had to be now. She had to put aside the pain, and whatever fondness she might have for Teddy, and put an end to this match.

Gemma ran her index finger between her lips before raising it into the air, as if trying to gauge the wind in the enclosed arena. Some of her longtime fans knew what that signalled: Gemma was going all-in, attempting the "Bombing Run," her signature top-rope finish. Biting her lip, Gemma lifted both boots to the top of the turnbuckle, bracing herself for liftoff.

With a pump of her toned legs, Gemma threw herself off of the top turnbuckle and into the air. She spun around in a whirlwind of white hair and brown leather, coming down in a 450 Splash. The two young women had thrown everything they had at one another, tonight, but Gemma was breaking out one last, big gun. Her Bombing Run dive, bringing herself crashing down onto the prone Teddy, driving her hard into the steel chair!

The impact rang through the arena, as did Gemma's own cry. "AAAOOWW!" she wailed. The move was a risky one, causing herself some harm to deliver (hopefully) even greater pain to her opponent. Gemma, Teddy and the chair all rocked up off the mat, in a tangle of women and steel. Rising to her knees, Gemma clutched her arms over her aching chest, where she'd absorbed most of the impact. Biting back any further moans of agony, Gemma knew the job wasn't done. Leaning forward, she pressed her body down onto Teddy's, hooking a leg, and looking to the ref, desperately.

The ref came down, and slapped the mat. "ONE!"

The 450 connected perfectly, Teddy's limbs flailing upwards, her eyes widening, mouth open in a perfect "O" with a loud gasp, any and all air left in her body forced out of her from the hard impact of the splash onto her bare stomach, the chair her only crushing her body between the two, her barefooted body collapsing back onto the mat.

She shook, her body going into minor convulsions before going still, her head hanging to the side, chest rising and falling ever so slightly as she lay limp, groaning weakly in pain and exhaustion, seeing several blurry kitties mrowing in sympathy for her as Gemma went for the pin, the ref girl continuing her count!

"TWO!"

Hearing the count get closer, Gemma's entire body was quivering with anticipation. She'd put herself through hell, heaven and back again, for this moment. Her body still felt like it was going to collapse in on itself after that Bomber Run, but she still pushed into the pinfall.

Gemma pushed with everything she had, actually. She pressed her chest as firmly as she could against Teddy's firm, quivering body. She could feel the cat girl's convulsions, but wouldn't let her up. Gemma needed this win desperately, and as she pressed her own figure into Teddy, she bit her lip, knowing that she had to do everything she could, to get it.

"THREE!" the ref called out, finally, slapping the mat hard. The crowd came alive, as the opening strings of Gemma's entrance music began to play on the loudspeaker. Gemma released her grip on Teddy, then, but couldn't quite roll off of her. Instead, the Brit's body sank into Teddy's, going soft and limp. Gemma could hardly believe it; it had been so long since she'd won, it was almost difficult to process. Tears rimmed Gemma's eyes, as she turned her head upward and looked to the cheering fans. Still not pulling herself up off of Teddy's body, Gemma let the ref girl pick her arm up, and raise her hand in victory. Gemma had been in some hard-fought matches, but this one was something else. This one was a grueling test of endurance, in every aspect that made AFW so challenging. This was her win, and nothing was going to take that away from her.

Teddy was too busy trying to remember what breathing was to even hear the three count, or hear the bell ring.

It took several minutes before she really came too again, dispersing the flying kitties of her brain to hear the music, the crowd, feel and see Gemma laying on top of her...like...really snug on top of her...*blush*

It was soon obvious. Gemma had one, and Teddy had been defeated in her second AFW match. After all that effort too. The girls had put on one hell of a hardcore match, and while Teddy was disappointed to have been defeated, she couldn't help but feel proud of them both, giving Gemma a pat on the back.

"C-Congratulations Gemma-Nya...but...um...could you move? I think I need a medic to stand..."

She groaned, her entire exhausted body dripping in sweat and aching in pain.

Gemma let out a loud, strained-sounding gasp, and rolled off of Teddy. Landing on her back, the Brit let the ref raise her hand, but it was going to be a long time before she was going to be getting back up to her feet. Chest heaving as she struggled to breathe, every muscle in her torso aching, hindsight made it seem like a miracle that she'd had the strength and will to even turn over, and get in the pin.

But she had, finally. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Gemma had scored a victory in AFW! She let out a laugh of relief, which would have lasted a bit longer if not for the fact that laughing hurt so incredibly much.

The Brit put a hand gently on Teddy's toned abs, after the ref released her. Gemma lay back, smiling appreciatively, as she took in the cheers of the fans. It had been a tight match all the way through, right up to the end. A match that could have just as easily gone the other way. Rubbing Teddy's abs gently, Gemma still couldn't help smiling.

"Good Kitty," she said, "gooood kitty ..." It had been a hell of a night, and a hell of a win. And as narrow as it was, it was Gemma's win. Gemma took in every moment of this, resolving that she had to do this whole 'winning' thing more often. For now, though, she just needed to register all she could of this moment in her memory, lying there with Teddy, while they waited for help in getting their utterly spent bodies out of the ring.