Southern Hospitality: Dakota vs Taurus Mask (D)

Her mother had always extolled the virtues of finding a good strong man who could sweep her off her feet, but Dakota couldn’t help but feel this wasn’t what momma had in mind. As she swung a wide arm with intent to knock Taurus mask’s head clean off the shoulder, he dipped and took it upon himself to hoist her up like a rag doll. Her stomach lurched with the sudden motion of being draped across his shoulders, thinking for a moment he was just going to scoop her up and over onto the steel but she came to a stop before that. She roiled as his meaty hands clamped down on her neck and thigh, getting a wild flail of her free leg to annoy his sense of balance.

“Now listen here you big oa-oohh shoot!” Dakota clenched her teeth at the ripcord spin, her hair whipping wildly back as her face was buffeted with centrifugal air pressure. Her eyes narrowed to thin slits, unable to keep open by the wind. What had she had for lunch? Whatever it was, each rotation was making it more and more likely to show itself across the floor. She blindly flapped her arms, slapping and clawing at Taurus Mask’s head and face, trying to dissuade him from keeping her spinning round and round.

Dakota hit the ringside ground with a hard slap that had the front row cringing. There had been no graceful way to land, throwing all her wrestling training out the window when she got lost in Taurus Mask’s spin cycle. She writhing on the floor, sucking in pained hisses of air through her teeth and kicking at the ground with one boot. Taking the match to the outside had been a huge mistake, one that might well cost her the match without even a proper finish. She could hear the ref counting and being honest with herself, she wasn't sure she’d be able to muster up the strength to get up that quick. She’d have to try though. Tucking an arm beneath her she began the rise only to be tramped back to the floor by her stumbling opponent. “Ugh…”

She exhaled hard, cheek pressed to the floor as she watched him slide back into the ring, her hat still perched atop his head. Her lower lip jutted out a bit, her pained expression turning more sour at the thought this was how things were going to end. Counted out while that big heap of dog turds pranced around the ring in her damn hat. No sir, she wouldn’t stand for that… well in this case she would only because she needed to get back into the ring.

She army crawled, planting for forearms in front of herself to drag her weight through the trench that was the ringside area. The apron fabric was her ladder, grasping handfuls as she hauled herself up on wobbling legs all the while swearing under her breath with each unintentional bend of her back that sent a debilitating pain through her body. By the eight count, she had managed to prop an arm onto the apron proper and grab hold of the bottom rope. From here, she would grin her teeth and bear the pain as her body burned up at the effort. Just before the count hit ten she had managed to flop herself through the bottom and middle ropes to crumple on the mat, not much better off now than she had been out there.

Dakota was practically wiped out at this point having used the last of her energy to make it back into the ring. She needed a moment to recuperate if she was going to put up much more of a fight. It was nice to have the crowd at her back and rooting her on, but having just clued in her obnoxious opponent to her reentry made it just as much of a curse. She watched with tired eyes in helplessness as Taurus Mask marched across the ring towards her. She couldn't do much, just reaching out to grasp for the ropes.

When her dragged her partially upright through, it had been more than enough to make her fingers slip away leaving her stranded and at his mercy as she was bent over and crushed under his arm. She let out a soft groan, her features mashed up against Taurus Mask’s flexed muscles. Where he traveled, she was forced to follow half dragged along the way with fumbled steps. It wasn’t long before she was hoisted upside down, a teetering display for the audience to gawk at. She might have been impressed had it been someone more humble and less… like Reggie. Instead, all she could feel was embarrassment over having talked so much trash only to be here now.

After all the blood flowing to her head had reddened her face, she was snapped around to be sent rocketing towards the mat. The impact was shattering, knocking any air she had left in her body from her lungs in a choked gasp and being left crushed beneath Reggie’s weight on top of her. Her head lulled back, lidded eyes struggling to keep themselves open as she lay still beneath him.

As she lay beneath Taurus Mask, she could feel this was it. His weight felt impossibly heavy on top of her as if she had gotten wedged underneath a pallet of meat. Even trying to take in a shallow breath proved to be difficult with his body pressing the air out of her lungs. The count however never came. Had she blacked out? Was it already over? He came away from her, allowing her to take in a deep breath that was sorely needed.

When his thick hands grabbed hold of her again, she didn't seem to understand why, much like the onlookers watching Reggie having to prop a nearly rag-dolled Dakota up. He was strong enough to handle her dead weight, forcefully bending her down and hauling her head between his thighs. There was no choice but to endure the indignity of his onslaught. She had tried to speak but it had come out so soft the mix of the crowd jeering over the overkill and those cheering Taurus Mask on for his dominant display drowned her out completely. When he cracked her backside with his palm her legs buckled, unable to keep herself upright even after that.

Up she went, folded up on his shoulders like a broken doll as he displayed her to the arena again. She could feel his heated breath between her legs, the sensation of his face buried against her crotch causing a shameful rush of pink to her cheeks for what felt like an eternity. With a sudden rush her denim shorts were jammed up her backside, giving the audience one last good look at her perfect posterior with one cheek a healthy reddened hue from the slap. It all came crashing down with an impact that shook the ring and left Dakota on the verge of unconsciousness as she lay exactly where she was planted, legs up over her head and body compressed under him.

The referee slid down into place, performing what seemed only like a formality now. Taking wide arching swings to slap the mat with an added enthusiasm reserved for when the official knew the end was final.

“One!”

“Two!”

As Taurus Mask slipped away, gravity reclaimed Dakota’s limp body, slumping her back across the canvas. Eventually, her legs would arch up and drop back to the mat as well, her heels bouncing off the ring just before they stilled. She remained sprawled out in defeat, in a stage between consciousness where she could be aware of the rampant showboating taking place over the husk that had been her, but was unable to do anything about it past suffering the indignity of it all. The only saving grace she had left was that she had avoided letting Reggie know his face betwixt her thighs had felt shamefully good. She turned her head with a slow roll of her neck, the blush already having faded from the begrudged encounter.

It was a bitter pill to swallow that this jackass of a man had bested her, but she had to admit to herself at the very least he had been strong, too strong for her to take head-on. Going outside of the ring had been a good equalizer for her but getting caught out there had done her in. She’d been a bit too greedy and he had been a bit too resilient. She couldn’t blame anyone but herself… Then she felt the brim of her hat bounce off her chest. She could blame him for being a huge ass. She turned her head, squinting daggers at Reggie from the mat but had nothing more to say. She’d take her loss sporting like in protest to her opponent’s boasting. She also wasn't terribly keen on him powerbombing her again if she sassed him any further…