Chapter 3: Champion's Regret
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The apartment was dimly lit, the faint glow of the television casting shadows across the room. Cynara lounged on her worn-out couch, the remote in her hand, her eyes fixed on the screen. The tape rewound with a soft whir, the image of Jenny charging at her like a bull flickering in reverse. “Here she comes, trying to get some leverage,” Cynara muttered, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Predictable.” She pressed play, watching herself sidestep with practiced ease, Jenny’s momentum carrying her forward in a clumsy arc. “Almost felt bad for her there,” Cynara said, rewinding again. “She really thought that was gonna work.” She paused the tape, zooming in on Jenny’s face, frozen in mid-realization. “See that confusion? That’s when I knew I had her.”
Her finger hovered over the remote, the anticipation thick in the air. The tape resumed, showing her hands darting down, gripping the waistband of Jenny’s bikini bottoms. “Now for the fun part,” Cynara murmured, her voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Time to send her flying.” She leaned forward, her breath catching as the image of Jenny’s body being yanked forward played out. “I’ve never understood why they wear those things,” Cynara said, shaking her head in mock confusion. “They’re practically begging to be grabbed.” The tape showed her grip tightening, the fabric digging into Jenny’s skin, her body swinging wildly. “Should’ve worn something more practical,” Cynara sneered. “Like a chastity belt.”
The sound of Jenny’s scream echoed through the apartment, sharp and panicked. Cynara’s lips curled into a wicked grin as she watched the moment unfold. “I bet she was regretting that thong right about then,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “Probably got a wedgie to go with that concussion.” On the screen, Jenny’s body hurtled through the air, her arms flailing, her face a mask of fear. Cynara’s grip on the remote tightened, her knuckles white. “She let out a small scream, and it wasn’t about her head hitting the wall,” she said, her tone almost gleeful. “She may be a tigress, but our little Jenny is a modest tigress.” The tape paused again, Jenny’s face frozen in a mixture of terror and embarrassment. “I bet she’s never had anyone grab her panties like that before.”
The sickening thud of Jenny’s body hitting the wall reverberated through the room, the sound sharp and final. Cynara leaned back, her eyes never leaving the screen. “She should’ve been worrying about the wall,” she said, her voice cold and detached. “But I guess she had other things on her mind.” The tape showed Jenny’s head snapping back, her body crumpling to the floor in a heap. “See her hit full?” Cynara asked, her voice tinged with satisfaction. “She didn’t even have a chance to get her hands up to cushion the blow.” The image replayed, the sound of Jenny’s skull hitting the wall echoing in the silence. “Remember the sound her head made?” Cynara whispered, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “Sweetest sound I ever heard.”
The tape continued, showing Jenny lying motionless on the floor, her eyes closed, her body limp. Cynara’s expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like regret crossing her face. “Don’t think she’ll ever forget it either,” she said, her voice low and thoughtful. “Time makes the sound a lot worse than it was originally.” She fast-forwarded the tape, the images blurring until it froze on the next fall. “I wonder if she still gets headaches from that,” Cynara mused, her tone casual. “Probably does. Concussions are a bitch.” The screen showed Marco rushing over to Jenny, his face etched with concern. “Hope she learned her lesson,” Cynara said, her voice hardening. “Next time, she’ll think twice before stepping into my apartment.”
The image froze again, this time on her standing over Jenny, her eyes cold and unyielding. Cynara grabbed the remote, her thumb pressing down hard on the power button. “Enough reminiscing,” she said, her voice sharp and final. “Time to finish this.” The screen went black, the room falling into silence. She sat there for a moment, the weight of the match still heavy on her shoulders. Then, with a sigh, she stood, the remote clattering onto the coffee table as she walked away, leaving the darkness behind.
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The tape clicked back on, the scene resetting to Jenny struggling to stand after the wall slam. Cynara leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “Now the real fun begins,” she whispered, her voice husky and low. “Time to break her spirit.” She watched herself move in, her expression cold and calculating, her body coiled like a spring.
The screen showed her grabbing Jenny by the hair, yanking her to her knees with a sharp tug. Jenny’s gasp of pain was almost drowned out by the crowd’s roar. “Never give them a chance to breathe,” Cynara said, her voice a low growl. “That’s when they start to think.” She paused the tape, zooming in on Jenny’s face, her eyes wide with fear and pain.
Cynara mounted Jenny’s back, her weight pressing down hard, her thighs clamping around Jenny’s waist. “Love this position,” she said, her voice laced with satisfaction. “They’re completely helpless. Like a turtle on its back.” She leaned forward, her breath hot against Jenny’s ear, her lips curling into a cruel smile.
On the screen, Jenny squirmed beneath her, her body twisting and contorting in a desperate attempt to escape. “See how she’s fighting?” Cynara said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Such a waste of energy.” She increased the pressure, her fingers digging into Jenny’s back muscles, her nails leaving red marks on her skin.
Cynara spread Jenny’s legs wide, her thighs pressing against her inner thighs, her weight forcing her down. “Gotta make it personal,” she said, her voice low and suggestive. “Gotta let her know who’s in control.” She leaned in closer, her breath hot against Jenny’s ear, her lips brushing against her skin.
The tape picked up Jenny’s muffled moans, her voice strained with pain and humiliation. “Hear that?” Cynara said, a cruel smile spreading across her face. “That’s the sound of surrender.” She increased the pressure, her fingers digging deeper into Jenny’s back muscles, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks.
“Gotta find those pressure points,” Cynara said, her voice a whisper. “Gotta make her scream.” She twisted her hips, grinding down hard, her weight pressing Jenny into the carpet. The sound of Jenny’s gasp echoed through the room, sharp and panicked.
On the screen, Jenny’s body began to jerk spasmodically, her muscles twitching uncontrollably. “There it is,” Cynara said, her voice filled with triumph. “The breaking point.” She leaned forward, her breath hot against Jenny’s ear, her lips brushing against her skin.
Jenny’s head twisted from side to side, her eyes squeezed shut, her face contorted with agony. “See that?” Cynara said, pointing at the screen. “That’s her giving up. That’s her admitting defeat.” She increased the pressure, her fingers digging deeper into Jenny’s back muscles, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks.
Cynara held the position for a few agonizing seconds, savoring Jenny’s pain and humiliation. “Gotta make it last,” she said, her voice a purr. “Gotta let her know who’s boss.” She leaned forward, her breath hot against Jenny’s ear, her lips brushing against her skin.
Finally, Cynara released the pressure, but not before giving Jenny’s legs a sharp twist. “A little souvenir,” she said, her voice laced with malice. “Something to remember me by.” She stood up, her body loose and relaxed, her eyes scanning the crowd.
The tape showed Cynara standing up, her body loose and relaxed, her eyes scanning the crowd. “Time to play to the audience,” she said, her voice smooth and confident. “Gotta give them a show.” She stretched her arms above her head, her muscles flexing, her breasts straining against her bikini top.
“Let them get a good look,” she said, her voice dripping with vanity. “Let them see what a real champion looks like.” She strutted around the ring, her hips swaying, her eyes meeting the gaze of the men in the audience.
“Hear them breathing?” she said, her voice filled with satisfaction. “They’re mesmerized. They’re in awe.” She paused in the center of the ring, striking a pose, her eyes burning with intensity. “That’s what gets me going,” she said, her voice a whisper. “That’s what gets me psyched for the next fall.”
The tape cut to black, leaving Cynara alone in the darkness, her mind racing with thoughts of domination and victory. She sat there for a moment, the weight of the match still heavy on her shoulders. Then, with a sigh, she stood, the remote clattering onto the coffee table as she walked away, leaving the darkness behind.
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The tape clicked back on, the scene resetting to Jenny struggling to stand after the wall slam. Cynara leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “Now the real fun begins,” she whispered, her voice husky and low. “Time to break her spirit.” She watched herself move in, her expression cold and calculating, her body coiled like a spring.
The screen showed her grabbing Jenny by the hair, yanking her to her knees with a sharp tug. Jenny’s gasp of pain was almost drowned out by the crowd’s roar. “Never give them a chance to breathe,” Cynara said, her voice a low growl. “That’s when they start to think.” She paused the tape, zooming in on Jenny’s face, her eyes wide with fear and pain.
Cynara mounted Jenny’s back, her weight pressing down hard, her thighs clamping around Jenny’s waist. “Love this position,” she said, her voice laced with satisfaction. “They’re completely helpless. Like a turtle on its back.” She leaned forward, her breath hot against Jenny’s ear, her lips curling into a cruel smile.
On the screen, Jenny squirmed beneath her, her body twisting and contorting in a desperate attempt to escape. “See how she’s fighting?” Cynara said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Such a waste of energy.” She increased the pressure, her fingers digging into Jenny’s back muscles, her nails leaving red marks on her skin.
Cynara spread Jenny’s legs wide, her thighs pressing against her inner thighs, her weight forcing her down. “Gotta make it personal,” she said, her voice low and suggestive. “Gotta let her know who’s in control.” She leaned in closer, her breath hot against Jenny’s ear, her lips brushing against her skin.
The tape picked up Jenny’s muffled moans, her voice strained with pain and humiliation. “Hear that?” Cynara said, a cruel smile spreading across her face. “That’s the sound of surrender.” She increased the pressure, her fingers digging deeper into Jenny’s back muscles, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks.
“Gotta find those pressure points,” Cynara said, her voice a whisper. “Gotta make her scream.” She twisted her hips, grinding down hard, her weight pressing Jenny into the carpet. The sound of Jenny’s gasp echoed through the room, sharp and panicked.
On the screen, Jenny’s body began to jerk spasmodically, her muscles twitching uncontrollably. “There it is,” Cynara said, her voice filled with triumph. “The breaking point.” She leaned forward, her breath hot against Jenny’s ear, her lips brushing against her skin.
Jenny’s head twisted from side to side, her eyes squeezed shut, her face contorted with agony. “See that?” Cynara said, pointing at the screen. “That’s her giving up. That’s her admitting defeat.” She increased the pressure, her fingers digging deeper into Jenny’s back muscles, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks.
Cynara held the position for a few agonizing seconds, savoring Jenny’s pain and humiliation. “Gotta make it last,” she said, her voice a purr. “Gotta let her know who’s boss.” She leaned forward, her breath hot against Jenny’s ear, her lips brushing against her skin.
Finally, Cynara released the pressure, but not before giving Jenny’s legs a sharp twist. “A little souvenir,” she said, her voice laced with malice. “Something to remember me by.” She stood up, her body loose and relaxed, her eyes scanning the crowd.
The tape showed Cynara standing up, her body loose and relaxed, her eyes scanning the crowd. “Time to play to the audience,” she said, her voice smooth and confident. “Gotta give them a show.” She stretched her arms above her head, her muscles flexing, her breasts straining against her bikini top.
“Let them get a good look,” she said, her voice dripping with vanity. “Let them see what a real champion looks like.” She strutted around the ring, her hips swaying, her eyes meeting the gaze of the men in the audience.
“Hear them breathing?” she said, her voice filled with satisfaction. “They’re mesmerized. They’re in awe.” She paused in the center of the ring, striking a pose, her eyes burning with intensity. “That’s what gets me going,” she said, her voice a whisper. “That’s what gets me psyched for the next fall.”
The tape cut to black, leaving Cynara alone in the darkness, her mind racing with thoughts of domination and victory. She sat there for a moment, the weight of the match still heavy on her shoulders.
The tape flickered, showing the start of the second fall. Cynara smirked, reaching for another beer. "Alright, time to let her think she's got a chance," she muttered. On screen, she allowed Jenny to take the offensive, absorbing a few blows with practiced ease.
"See that bra grab?" Cynara said, pointing at the screen. "Classic Cynara move. Always gets 'em riled up." The tape showed her reaching out, her fingers hooking under the strap of Jenny's bikini top, giving it a sharp tug. Jenny flinched, her eyes widening in surprise.
"She was so worried about her tits popping out," Cynara chuckled, shaking her head. "Like anyone gives a shit. They're all fake anyway." The tape showed Jenny adjusting her top, her face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
"There's the punch," Cynara said, wincing slightly as she watched Jenny's fist connect with her ribs. "Felt that one for days. Bitch hits hard." The tape showed her staggering backward, her breath catching in her throat.
"Gotta play it cool, though," Cynara said, her voice low and deliberate. "Can't let her know she got to me." The tape showed her shaking her head, a defiant grin spreading across her face. She gestured mockingly for Jenny to come at her again.
"See how angry she is?" Cynara said, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's what I want. Let her get all worked up, waste her energy." The tape showed Jenny charging at her, her fists flying, her face contorted with rage.
"Just gotta weather the storm," Cynara said, her voice calm and controlled. "Let her tire herself out." The tape showed her dodging and weaving, absorbing the blows, waiting for Jenny to make a mistake.
"There's the choke," Cynara said, her voice rising in excitement. "She really thought she had me there." The tape showed Jenny wrapping her arms around her neck, squeezing hard, her face flushed with effort.
"Felt my windpipe closing up," Cynara admitted, her voice tinged with respect. "That little bitch is strong. But I'm stronger." The tape showed her struggling against the choke, her face turning red, her muscles straining.
"See that punch to the temple?" Cynara said, wincing again. "That one rattled my brain. Saw stars for a minute there." The tape showed Jenny’s fist connecting with her head, the impact sending her staggering backward.
"But I didn't go down," Cynara said, her voice filled with pride. "Never give 'em the satisfaction." The tape showed her shaking her head, clearing her vision, a defiant grin spreading across her face.
"Look at her face," Cynara said, pointing at the screen. "She's gone berserk. Doesn't care about looking pretty anymore. Just wants to win." The tape showed Jenny’s face contorted with rage, her hair flying, her eyes burning with intensity.
"That's when you know you've broken them," Cynara said, her voice low and dangerous. "When they stop caring about anything but winning. When they're willing to do anything to get it."
"She's not pretty, but she's mean," Cynara said, a hint of respect in her voice. "And mean is dangerous." The tape showed Jenny stalking towards her, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey.
Cynara paused the tape, the image of Jenny’s snarling face frozen on the screen. "Alright, Jenny," she whispered, her eyes burning with a cold, hard light. "Let's see what you've got." She reached for another beer, her mind racing with thoughts of that shocking violent second fall. The apartment fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the TV as Cynara prepared for the penultimate act, the agony of that belt Jenny used to choke the weakened champ mercilessly.
The tape flickered back to life, the image of Jenny’s eyes darting around the penthouse, wild and unhinged. "She’s searching for something," Cynara murmured, her voice low and measured. "I didn’t realize it at the time, but..." She trailed off, her eyes narrowing as Jenny suddenly dove behind the plush white couch. The movement was quick, almost feral, her bikini-clad body disappearing into the shadows. "What the hell is she doing?" Cynara muttered, more to herself than anyone else. The camera angle shifted, showing Jenny rummaging behind the couch, her ass wiggling provocatively as she dug through the space. "Probably looking for a weapon," Cynara said, a flicker of unease creeping into her voice. Her fingers tightened around the remote, her knuckles whitening as she watched the scene unfold.
Jenny emerged from behind the couch, her face triumphant, clutching a thick, dark leather belt. "Oh, shit," Cynara said, her eyes widening. "That’s...that’s Mr. Thompson’s belt. I’ve seen him wearing that thing." A shiver ran down her spine, her mind racing with questions. "Wonder where he got it from? And what he used it for?" The belt gleamed in the penthouse lights, the leather worn but sturdy, the buckle catching the light. Jenny cracked it like a whip, the sharp snap echoing through the room. The crowd roared, sensing the shift in momentum, their cheers a deafening wave of excitement. "She’s gone completely psycho," Cynara whispered, her voice barely audible. "This isn’t wrestling anymore. This is something else."
Jenny advanced, her eyes locked on Cynara, the belt held high above her head like a weapon of war. "I tried to back away, but she was too fast," Cynara said, her voice tight with remembered fear. "She was like a woman possessed. I couldn’t believe this was happening." The tape showed Cynara’s feet shuffling backward, her hands raised defensively, but Jenny was relentless. The belt snaked out, the leather wrapping around Cynara’s neck with a sickening thud. "That’s when the pain started," Cynara said, her voice hoarse. "I’ll never forget that feeling. The leather biting into my flesh, the air being cut off..." Her hands clawed at the belt, her nails scraping against the rough material, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
Jenny pulled back on the belt, her face contorted with rage, her muscles straining as she tightened her grip. Cynara gasped for air, her hands clawing desperately at the leather, her vision beginning to blur. "I couldn’t breathe," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I was suffocating. I thought I was going to die." The tape showed her legs buckling, her body trembling as she fought to stay upright. Jenny twisted the belt, grinding the leather into Cynara’s throat, the pain excruciating. "It felt like my skin was being ripped off," Cynara said, wincing at the memory. "I could feel the blood trickling down my neck." Her vision darkened, her body went limp, and she collapsed to the floor, convulsing as the belt tightened further. "I was gone," she said, her voice flat. "I was completely out of it. I don’t remember anything after that."
The tape showed Jenny standing over her, chest heaving, face flushed with triumph. She dropped the belt and pinned Cynara’s shoulders to the carpet, her weight pressing down hard. Marco, the referee, rushed over, slapping the plush rug three times. "And that’s it," Cynara said, her voice devoid of emotion. "I lost. Just like that." The crowd roared, their cheers deafening, their excitement palpable. Jenny released the pin and stood up, her eyes scanning the crowd, a smug smile spreading across her face. She leaned down suddenly, her teeth sinking into Cynara’s big toe, biting down hard. "That fucking bitch!" Cynara exclaimed, her voice filled with rage. "That was completely uncalled for. You can beat me, but you don’t humiliate me like that." The tape showed Cynara’s face contorting with pain and disgust, her body twitching as Jenny’s teeth dug into her flesh.
Jenny strutted around the room, basking in the cheers of the crowd, her arms raised in victory. She flexed her muscles, her eyes gleaming with pride, her body glistening with sweat. "Look at her," Cynara said, her voice dripping with venom. "Enjoying her moment in the sun. Thinking she’s won." The camera panned to Jenny’s face, her smile wide and triumphant, her confidence unshakable. Cynara paused the tape, the image of Jenny’s face frozen on the screen. "She has no idea what’s coming," Cynara said, her voice low and dangerous. "She thinks she’s beaten me. But this is far from over. This is just the beginning." The screen went black, leaving Cynara alone in the darkness, her mind filled with thoughts of revenge.