Pushing and pulling

Grabbing the collar of her kimono you can probably push the girl back and forth, you reflect, tripping her lighter body to the ground. From there, maybe, you can have a chance. These and others thoughts are crowding in your mind, drawing piece by piece a draft of a strategy. Following the plan that is so taking shape, you collect all the energies in your hands, ready to shoot them out. Sadly for you, Grace has a different plan for your match; as you step forward she shifts her posture, messing your tactic up. Swiflty, the girl throws a sidekick to your upper body, targeting your abs and hitting you hard. The strike hurts and you cannot avoid being thrust back. Recklessly, Grace keeps up the pressure on you, highing her kicks and targeting your face and head. You don't have an answer to the storm of thwacks that suddenly rains over your head and shoulders; one female foot slaps your face, the other lands hardly on your ear, her toes smash your mouth and a moment later a taste of blood spills over your tongue.

Scared and disoriented before this pounding, you can only shrink away, losing ground. Your retreat is short-lived and in a blink your back is already slammed over the wall of the dojo. Your opponent throws a last vicious frontal kick to your ribcage, nailing your back to the wall. "Enough?", she asks dominantly, understanding that you are done. As a point of fact, fighting her has become the last of your thoughts. You feel dizzy and the oxygen doesn't flow regularly trough your lungs. "Yes! Enough!", it's the only answer that you can give unreflectively. "Wow, Grace!", one of her gym mates underlines enthusiastically, "You have broken him just using your feet!", "Yes it was great!", another continues, "Why don't you make kissing them?". The girl looks at you, intensifying the pressure of her slender foot and so making an implicit threat.