Susan Howard vs Misaki "Maiden" Sakurazaki

Susan was going to counter Makoto. Valley was sure of that. She wasn’t quite sure how, no, but she was certain it would happen in some form. Just from her brief time tussling with the woman, she could tell the redhead was a bit more hardy than she appear, tougher than you would think at a glance. That shot her leg had hurt, no doubt, but it wouldn’t fog up her head all that much, which you needed to do if you were going for a corner assault. Plus, the Black Belt Demon wasn’t all that fast on her feet. Not super slow, no, but for all the reasons a wrestler might go barefoot, it wasn’t to increase their running speed.

So, the match was about to turn away from her favor, Valley was about 95% sure on that. The question, then was what should she do about that. Warn Black Belt Demon. She could, yes, and it would save her some pain.

On the other hand, it would be funny to see her get squeezed in those legs, too, especially after all the ruckus she’d made a minute ago when it happened to her.

...yeah, option B. That was fine.

Sure enough, Makoto wound up running into a kick, one that bent her over and put her in a prime position for what came next. Valley almost felt sorry for the Black Belt Demon - she just had to put up with those legs around her waist. But around the neck? Oh, that’d hurt for weeks. ”Oopsie.”

Makoto cried out and fell to her knees, going into a spastic fit as those muscular thighs clamped on. She twisted left and right, pulled at them, beat at the thigh, but nothing worked - she was trapped in the vise, couldn’t breath, and her world was rapidly growing dark.

Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to put up with it for long, as the referee was already counting it off for the ropes. But five seconds could be a long, long time, especially when your head was being squashed like a rotten grape.

In reality, Susan’s torture in the dual hold lasted only a handful of seconds. But each of those seconds felt like an eternity. Maiden and Kikuchi were bending the redhead so far and so forcefully that she felt like any second now either her spine would snap or her legs would be ripped right off of her. She howled and wailed, clawing in helpless desperation on the mat. The agony was so unbearable tears had welled up and started to ruin her makeup.

By the mercy of some deity, it all finally came to an end when referees stormed the ring and forced the two women off of her. Susan continued to writhe and wallow in pain while her assailants were led away. She saw Kikuchi thrashing in the clutches of several referees, and heard the words shrieked at her. Seething so furiously her anger was almost strong enough to dull some of her pain, Susan hissed at the one referee who was still in the ring, a woman who was checking on her wounded legs while trying to flag down the doctors.

“Mic!”

The ref seemed surprised, but went to grab a mic from the announce table and brought it back to Susan. The model’s legs hurt so bad she couldn’t even get to her knees, much less stand. But she dragged herself to the side of the ring facing Kikuchi, one and gripping the bottom rope, the other holding the mic to her lips as she leaned through the ropes and shouted.

“You want me at Avalanche?! YOU’VE GOT IT!”

And with that she threw the mic down, just in time for the doctors to come into the ring and start checking on her. But all the while, even while her face continued to distort in reaction to the immense pain in her legs, Susan’s vengeful glare remained on Kikuchi. She didn’t care what kind of shape she was in going into Avalanche. There was no way in hell she was going to let that woman get away with this...