Level 2

Launching out of your corner as the bell rings to signal the second round, your eyes are laser-focused on your voluptuous rival as she saunters up to meet you in the middle.

Not even bothering to take on a formal grappling stance, she lets out an exaggerated yawn you warily approach with narrowed eyes and twitching fingers.

She clearly isn’t taking you seriously yet.

“Time to change that,” you think to yourself, extending one hand for a test of strength as you two finally enter striking range.

With a slight smirk, the judoka fighter steps forward with her dominant hand stretching towards yours.

Fingers are just about to touch when suddenly…

“Hah!” Springing forward, you feign a lockup only to slip right underneath her outstretched forearms before fully making contact.

“Ooh, the ol’ bait and switch!” the ring announcer so ‘astutely’ notes, as you cinch in a rear waistlock before the ebony woman could twirl back around.

Squeezing your right waist with your left hand, you plant your feet firmly on the canvas and simply squeeze for everything you’ve got.

An audible grunt escapes the sexfighter’s lips as your sizable forearms press against her lower sternum, keeping her anchored to you and your considerable upper body strength.

Tossing her raven black hair back irritably, she tries using her slimmer figure to wriggle free, but to no avail.

She squirms and struggles even more in the next few seconds, but you simply won’t let go.

Cocking a smirk despite her bodily protests, you can’t help but tease her, “Guess you can’t think your way out of brute strength, huh Kayla?”

That finally seemed to give the sexfighter some pause.

Suddenly abandoning her efforts to free herself, she reluctantly confesses to you, “Brute strength, I could never compete with. However…”

A gloating declaration is halfway formed in your mouth before she finishes with a smirk of her own, “Sheer stupidity? Now that I can work with.”

Instead of taunting her even more, the next word to come out of your mouth is a very loud, “Ow fuck!”

Clamping down on your waist, she grabs your index finger and very violently twists it upwards in a manner that it was not meant to be twisted.

Wincing in both surprise and pain as she very nearly dislocated your finger, that momentary lapse in concentration allows the judoka fighter just enough time to twist out of your waistlock and emerge on your right.

Still grabbing hold of your left arm, she twists it downwards in a very painful wristlock, utilizing only the most minimum of effort on her part to cause you the maximum amount of discomfort.

“Once again, Kayla is showing exactly why she is the Mistress of Submissions,” the announcer exclaims, much to your visibly (and physical) chagrin.

Continuing to twist your joint in a very unnatural position, she aims a swift kick at the back of your knee to bring you down to her level.

Falling in a kneeling position with your left arm almost completely neutralized by just one of her dainty hands manipulating your wrist.

“Leaving your hands wide open for your opponent? They must not have taught you that in wrestling school,” she playfully mocks you, knowing full well you can’t respond given the amount of misery written across your grimacing expression.

But that didn’t stop her from lifting one leg up to your struggling expression, her pretty, pedicured toes wriggling with anticipation just inches from your ****, well, everything.

“But…” Her lips curl into a truly sadistic grin as she swings her foot back like a deadly pendulum about to deliver bodily destruction. “Let’s see how well they taught you to take an ass kicking.”