Next Stop: Humiliation Station! Casimir vs. Francesca Poem

Casimir wasn't expecting the kid to actually be good. No, he was expecting another match where he had complete control over his opponent. He should have done his research on the kid, clearly. He gave a small grunt as Francesca managed to launch himself onto his face, crotch first, making a small growl. Though Francesca probably shouldn't have made the comment about it being boring. He took a moment -- and laughed once more. "Sorry, is this your attempt at humiliating me? I thought this was the only move you could actually do."

With a grin he moved to reach up -- and grab for Francesca's face. If he did it properly, his hands would cover the other man's eyes. He pulled back on his head, trying to get him off of him in the the first place. The plan was for him to yank Francesca back, into his raised legs, so he would be able to get him in a nice, tight headscissor. It wouldn't be in the position he was looking for -- Francesca would be facing away from his crotch, sadly -- but it would do for now. As long as he managed to crank the hold in, at least.

"Huh?!" Francesca yelped in surprise once Casimir started talking in the same taunting tone which he was so inelegantly using earlier, apparently completely unaffected by the position which the boy was sure to at least help him in his course to victory. This kind of position would make almost anyone at least blush or a little bit flustered yet this guy seemed to have no problem with where Francesca was currently balanced, sending a fearful shiver up the boys spine as his expression became more panicked, Francesca immediately trying to squirm off of his foe once he realised he was in a vulnerable place but not moving quick enough to avoid the hand grasping his feminine face!

"Nyaaaaa!!" Francesca squealed as he found himself being moved into some form of hold, desperately trying to push against Casimir to try and avoid it but not having nearly as much strength as he required to properly resist it and getting moved backwards into the perfect headscissor which his opponent had so graciously set-up for him. "Ehek!! Eeee!!" The boy chocked as he found his breathing limited once again, pitifully squirming in-between his foes powerful legs while attempting and failing to part his legs with the use of some weak pulling.

Casimir was embarrassed that he had been caught in that hold by the much smaller man -- but he didn't let himself show it. The first attack was the easiest for him to prepare for -- it was what came after that he found himself harder to catch. So he managed to at least reverse it, though another couple of moves like that and he would surely be beet read. "What's wrong, cutie? Thought you were more humiliating than that?" he taunted as he managed to lock him into a nice headscissor. "God, I could just eat you up like this. You're so…hilariously weak!" Another booming laugh came from the blue haired man, before he let go of the headscissor.

The issue with Casimir was that he was also full of pride to go along with his sadism. He stood up slowly, moving to grab for Francesca and pull him up. He would then go to shove the other wrestler into the corner, not even taking the time to see if he was stunned before he began to flex for the crowd. The audience began to jeer, and loudly, making Casimir just laugh and laugh -- before he tried to charge at Francesca in the corner, not even looking to see if he was still there. He was too proud of himself to even bother looking.

"Eeeehh!! Huuuhhh!!" Francesca groaned in response to Casimir's usual mocking words as he continued to try and break himself free of the tight hold despite them. The boy wriggling around to the best of his ability while making sure to constantly keep using his hands to try and separate his foes legs. Although he wasn't getting anywhere very quickly with this particular struggling technique, it was either continue trying it or do nothing at all until he fell unconscious or Casimir got bored and decided to switch up the positions a bit.

Not long later just such a thing happened as Francesca felt himself being pulled back up to his feet, releasing another air withdrawn gasp as he was able to properly breath once again, not even bothering to try and resist as he was aggressively shoved away from his foe, limply collapsing in the corner with his arms resting on the ropes and his head limply drooping backwards. Upon hearing the loud jeering of the audience and amused laughter of his opponent however, Francesca used all of his might to refocus his gaze forwards, just about managing to throw all of his light weight to one side to roll out the way of the devastating charge before it had chance to properly connect!

Casimir gave a small grin as he managed to switch up the positions, but then he was caught by his own affinity to showboat. He had charged straight for Francesca in the corner, and he knew that he would win this match -- what easier way than to get him too tired to resist the humiliation? He grinned a bit wider, but it had ended up with him just slamming straight into the corner of the ring, head first. With a yelp, the blue-haired man stumbled back a bit, reaching up and clutching his head as he tried to stop moving, if only for a second; he felt like the world was spinning for a moment.

"You little bitch," he cursed, moving to try and find out where he went. "I'm going to make sure you regret this." He snarled, moving to turn around and charge at him once more. Of course, the charge was highly telegraphed, so it was probably going to be very easy to dodge. But he was starting to get angrier and angrier, that much was clear.

Once Casimir charged headfirst into the corner like nothing more than a stupid bull Francesca couldn't help but laugh, doing his best to subdue it due to him not really wanting his opponent to know his whereabouts in the ring any sooner than he had to. With the quiet chuckle quickly subsiding the boy continued to smile as he positioned himself infront of another one of the corners, waiting for what he knew Casimir would do next so he could best take advantage of the muscly yet mentally lacking mans anger.

Seeing the second charge coming from a mile off Francesca nimbly hopped to the side once he deemed Casimir was close enough, playfully sticking out his leg as he moved to provide something for his larger foe to trip over, the same amused smile sill present on his face. If everything went to plan Casimir would clumsily trip over once again, hopefully going headfirst and knocking himself with enough force to lose his balance and fall.

If there was anything Casimir hated almost as much as losing, it was being laughed at. So when Francesca laughed, it did nothing but enrage him further, giving Francesca more leeway, as such. While things wouldn't be nearly as thought through and probably highly telegraphed, Francesca still needed to make sure to stay away from him, keep from getting between his hands -- because once he grabbed on, he wouldn't let go. But for right now, Francesca was safe so long as he remembered that much.

He rushed forward, as expected -- and tripped easily over that extended foot, slamming into the corner with a yelp! It was like a scene out of a cartoon -- and the audience burst into laughter, as a result. His head spun from the blow he took, but he was aware enough to feel his temper come to a tipping point. For once, he stayed down; he waited, acting like he was still recovering from the blow to his head, turning around in the corner and slumping there. If Francesca came close enough, he would try and move quickly and spear him to the mat.

"Aha! Now I've got to say that both looked and sounded like it really hurt!" Francesca giggled to himself as he stood away from Casimir for the moment, simply wanting to take a second or so to admire the fact that he had managed to get such a larger opponent down to the canvas by using almost nothing more than his nimble dodging skills. "I think they said something once about the bigger they are the harder they fall? Not quite sure though." The boy continued to chirp cheerfully, not at all catching onto his opponents surprisingly clever acting as he unknowingly moved in closer.

With only enough time for his eyes to snap open in horror Francesca suddenly found himself being aggressively speared into the canvas by his much larger opponent, a yelp of both fear and surprise escaping him as the two of them collided with the unpleasantly hard surface, a bolt of pain quickly shooting into his back and leaving a lingering stinging sensation as he was forced to just lay there sprawled out underneath his foe, now rendered completely helpless for whatever might happen next.

The fact that Francesca was still giggling just helped him recover from the attack that much quicker; the teasing surely didn't help Francesca's case in Casimir's head, as he planned what he was going to do to the boy when he got him down on the mat. Once Francesca got within grip, he struck, like a tiger leaping on its prey. He almost seemed to have forgotten the theme of the match was humiliation; he was going for blood, that much was clear. He straddled Francesca's smaller body with a sneer, looking down on him. "I'll show you something that'll look and sound like it hurts," he remarked, before moving to slam his fist straight into his opponent's face.

Casimir's rage was apparent in his face, if not in his punches. He wasn't going for a hold, he wasn't even trying to break any of Francesca's bones; he just wanted to punch him until he couldn't punch anymore. Of course, it left plenty of openings for Francesca to reverse things. But at the moment, Casimir didn't even notice the holes in his defense; all he knew was that he was going to mess up Francesca's pretty face.