She wont quit easily

Bayley’s arms shot back. She drove a sharp, desperate elbow straight into Lyra’s face, catching her across the cheek and nose. The impact broke the crossface. Lyra staggered back with a furious cry, both hands flying up to clutch her face as fresh pain bloomed and more blood smeared across her skin.

Bayley didn’t waste the second of freedom. She frantically hooked her fingers under the black Victoria’s Secret waistband still stretched tight across her forehead and yanked it forward and down, peeling the atomic wedgie off her head. The stretched fabric snapped free with a sharp elastic pop, though the rest of the panties remained deeply buried between her legs. She sucked in a ragged breath and spun around, ready to fight—

Lyra was already moving.

Eyes blazing with pure anger, Lyra planted one foot and drove a vicious kick straight up between Bayley’s thighs. The boot connected solidly with the already-sensitive, wedgied crotch. Bayley let out a high, broken yelp of pure agony. Her knees buckled instantly and she dropped hard onto the gravel, both hands flying between her legs as she curled forward, gasping and trembling from the brutal impact.

Lyra stood over her, still holding her own bloodied face, chest heaving.

She looks at Bayleys tights