TheCrimsonRisk
Ryonani Teamster
- Joined
- Jun 10, 2010
Here's a story I originally intended to add to the Punishment Series thread as it seemed like a good fit thematically. I expanded more than I planned and it just became a full length story. So there ya go. WWE Diva Aksana recently changed her ring gear to something more my style so now I'm crushing on her hard. She wasn't exactly hard to look at before. The premise of this story is derived from a real life botch that occurred a few weeks ago. I like to think that the consequences for Aksana in real life were not so severe.
Aksana – Her Last Mistake
Injuries were a fact of life in the dangerous world of professional wrestling. This was particularly true in the WWE, the highest level of competition in the business. Accidents happen. Aksana reminded herself of this as she paced nervously backstage.
A recent match with Naomi had gone badly. What should have been an uneventful mid-card encounter on an episode of RAW turned sour when she used a rough tactic to escape a pinning predicament. Naomi was underneath her trying to get her off balance and rather than maneuver out of it, Aksana dropped right down on top of her. The former bodybuilder’s knee smacked against Naomi’s face. Everyone around ringside, including the referee and the announcers knew Naomi was injured. Aksana wanted to press on, but the referee gave Naomi time to recover. Moments later, Naomi would end up winning the match. A frustrated Aksana stormed to the back. She would later learn that she had fractured Naomi’s eye socket.
Normally, an injury like that wouldn’t be a big deal. But Naomi was one of the stars of the WWE’s hit reality show Total Divas. If this in any way jeopardized their ability to film, it could prove costly. Someone would have to pay the price.
Aksana worked on her apology, though it rankled her to have to do so. “Isn’t this wrestling? Aren’t we supposed to be doing anything to win? Gaaaah!” She muttered to herself bitterly. “Maybe if I was on stupid TV show...what dummies watch that garbage anyway?”
“Actually, I find the show to be quite compelling.”
Aksana turned to find herself face to face with Stephanie McMahon. The boss’s daughter. The most powerful woman in the WWE. She had a smile on her face that did little to assuage Aksana’s fears.
“Ah, hello Mrs. McMahon...er, Helmsley...McMahon-Helmsley...Mrs. Stephanie...?” Aksana stumbled over her honorifics. Her thick Baltic accent interfered with her English speaking at the best of times; combined with her current anxiety she was a mess. The Chief Brand Officer of the WWE had been away on a business trip and this would be their first conversation since the incident.
“Aksana, you seem worried.”
“Worried? No. Me? Why...it’s just that...I’m sure you hear about Naomi. Mrs. Stephanie, I’m telling you I...”
Stephanie motioned for her to be silent. “Hey, I saw the footage. I called an informal meeting to discuss what to do about it. We know you would never try to injure another wrestler. You were sloppy, not malicious.”
Aksana breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes! That is what I try to tell them, but...”
“Still,” Stephanie continued. “Naomi has a lot of friends. Not just here, but with the Total Divas crew and VH1 and, well, it would look bad if we didn’t address the situation somehow. I’m sure you understand.” She paused, letting Aksana squirm. “You were supposed to have a tag match tonight. I’m cancelling that.”
That was what Aksana was afraid of. Being taken off of RAW. She’d gotten used to the exposure (and the paychecks) that came with regularly appearing on the WWE’s top show. She nearly dropped to her knees right then and there to beg for forgiveness, but it turned out to be unnecessary.
“Instead, I’m booking you in a singles match!”
A singles match? To Aksana, that seemed like the opposite of a punishment.
“I want you to welcome one of our NXT rookies to the prime time. Can you do that for us, Aksana? It would go a long way towards repairing your reputation backstage.”
A singles match against a rookie? It was almost too good to be true. Aksana was excited. She found Stephanie to be a wise, fair woman. Maybe she saw real potential in Aksana. “Of course, boss! I will put on good match for you, I promise.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will, dear. Good luck.” Stephanie walked away, a Cheshire grin plastered on her face.
*****
Aksana stood in the ring, cycling through potential opponents in her head. She was a vision in her shiny red wrestling outfit. With lacy strings running up the middle of the one-piece gear and black knee high boots, Aksana willingly evoked the image of a dominatrix. In truth, there was a sweetness to her that she had to hide to protect herself in the cutthroat world of professional wrestling. She’d shown flashes of it in private moments with small clusters of fans, but for the most part she enjoyed playing the part of the vile temptress.
Normally, this is where she would take the time to stretch provocatively, teasing the men in the audience with her otherworldly curves. She might even make eye contact with one lucky schlub and blow him a kiss. But she was preparing herself. Just when she’d come to the realization that there wasn’t a single lady from NXT she should be afraid of, one of them walked out onto the stage.
It was Lana. She was dressed in a professional looking pantsuit, not fit for a wrestling match. But that means...oh no...
Stomping his way through the curtain was Lana’s client, the monstrous Alexander Rusev. Clad in little more than a gladiator’s skirt, every inch of the power lifter’s physique could be seen. There were audible gasps from the crowd as it dawned upon them that The Authority had booked an obvious mismatch. Rumours of Aksana’s gaff had made the rounds, so some fans were aware that this was meant to be some sort of demented slap on the wrist.
Lana spoke into a microphone: “Greetings, Aksana! Alexander and I are here on behalf of Mrs. Stephanie McMahon. You make mistake.” Her Moscow roots meant she shared speech patterns with the luscious Lithuanian they’d been sent to deal with. “And mistakes...must be dealt with.” As she spoke, Lana and Rusev made their way down to the ring. Aksana hadn’t moved, frozen as she tried to figure out how to get out of this.
“One more thing, Aksana. If you lose by count-out or disqualification, then you lose job. Good luck.” Lana handed the mic to an official and took her place by Rusev’s corner.
No count-out. No disqualification. Maybe Aksana could fake an injury or just concede right off the bat, but the implication was clear that if she didn’t put in an honest effort then she would be fired. She would have to fight.
Without hesitation, Aksana ran to the ropes to build momentum. She sprang back towards the centre of the ring, charging as fast she could. Her forearm shot out and connected with Rusev’s face, right under his chin! It was a blow that would have had any Diva seeing stars. To Rusev, it was no more than the sting of an insect.
She repeated the attack, this time leaping as she struck to land higher on his face. Her elbow sank into his cheek and she saw his head turn...then turn back, unshaken. His eyes were locked on her, taking her in from her legs all the way up her exposed front. They came to a rest around on her cleavage. Rusev licked his lips lustily. “Again.” He said, challenging her.
Aksana gagged in surprise. Most of the men in the company had some sense of decorum unlike this beast. “You...ugh!” She reared back to deliver a slap to his face. Instead of a satisfying smack, she felt his thick hand enclose around her wrist. He let out a hearty laugh, and then pulled her hand close to his mouth for a sloppy kiss. The ensuing nausea was only made worse as he forced her to run her fingers through the forest of hair on his chest.
“Auuuggh! Stop it...what...what is this?!?” She beat a fist against his body, which only made her knuckles sore. Her boot pressed against his thigh as she tried to pull away. There was nothing she could do to escape his grasp.
“Rusev...” Lana commanded from ringside. “Hit.”
Suddenly, Rusev tensed up. He created some space between him and Aksana, angling his body so that he could land a devastating spinning heel kick on her jaw. Seeing Aksana’s head snap back, her knees turned to jelly, the horrified audience didn’t know what to think. She’d presented herself as a vain, arrogant character on television, but nobody thought she deserved to be thrown in the ring with a monster.
Aksana lay on her back, massaging her jaw. It was a miracle she hadn’t lost a tooth. Rusev forced her to stand and applied a side headlock. He balled up his fist and raised it into the air. A fan in the front row yelled for him to stop. The plea went unanswered. Rusev’s fist was driven into Aksana’s face, crunching against her orbital bone. Her arms drooped towards the mat, lamely bopping up and down as Rusev punched her in the face over and over again. More fans started to object as Aksana’s face was tenderized like a slab of beef.
After about a dozen punches, Rusev launched Aksana toward the ropes with an Irish whip. She didn’t so much run as stumble back and forth, completely unaware of where she was. As she neared the centre of the ring, she could see a large figure coming towards her. Rusev obliterated her with a running body block, his massive frame eclipsing her. The collision sent her flying through the air and tumbling across the canvass. The referee went to go check on her. He was willing to call off the match if she’d suffered any serious injuries. Lana made sure that didn’t happen.
“Don’t do anything foolish. Mrs. Stephanie McMahon said she wanted a show. We wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would we? And that goes to you too, stupid girl. Do not even think about giving up now.” Lana looked back to her client. “Rusev. Crush.”
The referee could do nothing to stop Rusev from dragging Aksana off of the mat. She was hoisted up onto his shoulders, facing the ground. He stood stock still, listening to the crowd boo, looking to Aksana for instruction. She nodded. Rusev roared and fell back, slamming Aksana onto the mat with a Samoan drop! She was squashed by three hundred pounds of unforgiving fat and muscle falling on top of her. The announce team could be heard speculating on the number of ribs that must have cracked.
Rusev sat up, chuckling. He was having more fun than he’d ever had in a match before. “Get up, Aksana! Fight.” There was no response from the fallen Diva, who was curled up defensively with her arms covering her stomach. He grabbed the back of her one-piece and hauled her up onto her feet. “Fight. Not over.” Somehow he’d managed to get her standing. A stray leaf could have knocked her on her ass in the condition she was in. The cameraman on the apron zoomed in to capture the miserable look on her face.
“No more...” She begged.
Rusev delivered a light slap to her face, which caused her to fall limply against him. “Ha ha ha! Rusev not pillow.” He grabbed her shoulders and drove a Thai knee into her, just underneath her breasts. They bounced upwards as her body collapsed downwards. Seeing Aksana on her hands and knees filled Rusev’s head with all kinds of unsavoury thoughts. He took a step back, relishing the sight. His right leg extended straight into the air. The audience might have appreciated the surprising flexibility if it wasn’t for what happened next. He brought his heel down across the back of Aksana’s neck, nearly decapitating her with an axe kick! She immediately crumpled to the mat, twitching violently.
There were no more instructions needed. Rusev knew exactly what to do next. He sat down on Aksana’s back, mercilessly squishing her decimated midsection. Her arms were secured and his hands enclosed her mouth, completing the traditional camel clutch hold that Lana had dubbed “The Accolade”. Aksana began to whine in protest before the hold had even been fully applied.
“McMahon say punish. Rusev punish.” He said coldly. Then he cranked up the pressure, causing intense pain to rush through Aksana’s whole body. He allowed her a short, piercing scream before adjusting his grip to silence her. Her dull whimpering was just as satisfying to him. She spent hours sculpting her muscles and now they were on the verge of tearing. If this was supposed to be her punishment, it was hard to imagine anything worse than what was happening to her now.
Luckily, Aksana was still cognizant enough to know how to submit. The referee had wanted to stop this match before it even started, so when he asked her if she wanted to quit, the slightest nod was all he needed to call for the bell. Aksana also tapped her hand against Rusev’s thigh, desperate to communicate to her attacker that she’d had enough. The bell rang repeatedly, but Rusev did not let go. He gave another tug, forcing Aksana’s chest to jut out. She feared that her spine could not withstand being in the camel clutch a second longer.
“Stop, Rusev.” Lana had entered the ring. The referee was relieved to see Rusev release the hold. He went to check on Aksana, but Lana brushed him aside. Rusev still straddled Aksana menacingly. Lana knelt down and tilted Aksana’s head up so they would be face to face. “You don’t make mistake anymore, yes? Be more careful in future.”
Aksana had almost forgotten why this whole scenario had been set up. The thought that a complete accident had brought such cruelty upon her caused her to break down emotionally. She started crying, which drew enormous sympathy from the crowd (not that it would do her any good). “I...sorry...Naomi...never again...”
Lana was pleased. “Yes. Sorry is good. Never again.” She stood up; her hands on her hips in a commanding pose. She raised a fist, signalling for Rusev to slap on The Accolade again.
More screaming. More whimpering. More unnatural grinding of joints and bones. Aksana could not even blink; the camel clutch was causing her such torment. Wet, sorrowful tears forced their way past shut eyelids. Lana continued to taunt her, so engrossed in Aksana’s torture that she was now instinctively slinging insults in Russian. Aksana might have only understood some of the words, but there was no mistaking the complete and utter humiliation she was experiencing. Rusev worked the agonizing hold to maximum effect, not allowing Aksana to escape into unconsciousness.
The message delivered, Lana gestured for Rusev to exit the ring with her. He let go one limb at a time, letting Aksana ooze onto the mat. He gazed down at her in appreciation of his own handiwork. The crowd was in a frenzy now, calling for his head. Aksana had never had such support for her. This new reaction could turn out well for her in the future, not that it registered at the moment. The only thing on her mind was how she wanted the hurting to stop.
Rusev turned her onto her side and cradled her head in his arms. He leaned in to lick the tears off of her face. His tongue ran up the side of her cheeks, the taste of this beautiful woman almost overwhelming him. When Aksana realized what was happening, she sobbed with renewed urgency.
“Anytime. Rematch.” Rusev said, laughing. Nobody else joined in.
After the carnage was over, the medics were allowed to go and check on Aksana. The fans cheered feverishly, as if they could wish her back to health. It would be a while before she could appreciate the sentiment.
Aksana – Her Last Mistake
Injuries were a fact of life in the dangerous world of professional wrestling. This was particularly true in the WWE, the highest level of competition in the business. Accidents happen. Aksana reminded herself of this as she paced nervously backstage.
A recent match with Naomi had gone badly. What should have been an uneventful mid-card encounter on an episode of RAW turned sour when she used a rough tactic to escape a pinning predicament. Naomi was underneath her trying to get her off balance and rather than maneuver out of it, Aksana dropped right down on top of her. The former bodybuilder’s knee smacked against Naomi’s face. Everyone around ringside, including the referee and the announcers knew Naomi was injured. Aksana wanted to press on, but the referee gave Naomi time to recover. Moments later, Naomi would end up winning the match. A frustrated Aksana stormed to the back. She would later learn that she had fractured Naomi’s eye socket.
Normally, an injury like that wouldn’t be a big deal. But Naomi was one of the stars of the WWE’s hit reality show Total Divas. If this in any way jeopardized their ability to film, it could prove costly. Someone would have to pay the price.
Aksana worked on her apology, though it rankled her to have to do so. “Isn’t this wrestling? Aren’t we supposed to be doing anything to win? Gaaaah!” She muttered to herself bitterly. “Maybe if I was on stupid TV show...what dummies watch that garbage anyway?”
“Actually, I find the show to be quite compelling.”
Aksana turned to find herself face to face with Stephanie McMahon. The boss’s daughter. The most powerful woman in the WWE. She had a smile on her face that did little to assuage Aksana’s fears.
“Ah, hello Mrs. McMahon...er, Helmsley...McMahon-Helmsley...Mrs. Stephanie...?” Aksana stumbled over her honorifics. Her thick Baltic accent interfered with her English speaking at the best of times; combined with her current anxiety she was a mess. The Chief Brand Officer of the WWE had been away on a business trip and this would be their first conversation since the incident.
“Aksana, you seem worried.”
“Worried? No. Me? Why...it’s just that...I’m sure you hear about Naomi. Mrs. Stephanie, I’m telling you I...”
Stephanie motioned for her to be silent. “Hey, I saw the footage. I called an informal meeting to discuss what to do about it. We know you would never try to injure another wrestler. You were sloppy, not malicious.”
Aksana breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes! That is what I try to tell them, but...”
“Still,” Stephanie continued. “Naomi has a lot of friends. Not just here, but with the Total Divas crew and VH1 and, well, it would look bad if we didn’t address the situation somehow. I’m sure you understand.” She paused, letting Aksana squirm. “You were supposed to have a tag match tonight. I’m cancelling that.”
That was what Aksana was afraid of. Being taken off of RAW. She’d gotten used to the exposure (and the paychecks) that came with regularly appearing on the WWE’s top show. She nearly dropped to her knees right then and there to beg for forgiveness, but it turned out to be unnecessary.
“Instead, I’m booking you in a singles match!”
A singles match? To Aksana, that seemed like the opposite of a punishment.
“I want you to welcome one of our NXT rookies to the prime time. Can you do that for us, Aksana? It would go a long way towards repairing your reputation backstage.”
A singles match against a rookie? It was almost too good to be true. Aksana was excited. She found Stephanie to be a wise, fair woman. Maybe she saw real potential in Aksana. “Of course, boss! I will put on good match for you, I promise.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will, dear. Good luck.” Stephanie walked away, a Cheshire grin plastered on her face.
*****
Aksana stood in the ring, cycling through potential opponents in her head. She was a vision in her shiny red wrestling outfit. With lacy strings running up the middle of the one-piece gear and black knee high boots, Aksana willingly evoked the image of a dominatrix. In truth, there was a sweetness to her that she had to hide to protect herself in the cutthroat world of professional wrestling. She’d shown flashes of it in private moments with small clusters of fans, but for the most part she enjoyed playing the part of the vile temptress.
Normally, this is where she would take the time to stretch provocatively, teasing the men in the audience with her otherworldly curves. She might even make eye contact with one lucky schlub and blow him a kiss. But she was preparing herself. Just when she’d come to the realization that there wasn’t a single lady from NXT she should be afraid of, one of them walked out onto the stage.
It was Lana. She was dressed in a professional looking pantsuit, not fit for a wrestling match. But that means...oh no...
Stomping his way through the curtain was Lana’s client, the monstrous Alexander Rusev. Clad in little more than a gladiator’s skirt, every inch of the power lifter’s physique could be seen. There were audible gasps from the crowd as it dawned upon them that The Authority had booked an obvious mismatch. Rumours of Aksana’s gaff had made the rounds, so some fans were aware that this was meant to be some sort of demented slap on the wrist.
Lana spoke into a microphone: “Greetings, Aksana! Alexander and I are here on behalf of Mrs. Stephanie McMahon. You make mistake.” Her Moscow roots meant she shared speech patterns with the luscious Lithuanian they’d been sent to deal with. “And mistakes...must be dealt with.” As she spoke, Lana and Rusev made their way down to the ring. Aksana hadn’t moved, frozen as she tried to figure out how to get out of this.
“One more thing, Aksana. If you lose by count-out or disqualification, then you lose job. Good luck.” Lana handed the mic to an official and took her place by Rusev’s corner.
No count-out. No disqualification. Maybe Aksana could fake an injury or just concede right off the bat, but the implication was clear that if she didn’t put in an honest effort then she would be fired. She would have to fight.
Without hesitation, Aksana ran to the ropes to build momentum. She sprang back towards the centre of the ring, charging as fast she could. Her forearm shot out and connected with Rusev’s face, right under his chin! It was a blow that would have had any Diva seeing stars. To Rusev, it was no more than the sting of an insect.
She repeated the attack, this time leaping as she struck to land higher on his face. Her elbow sank into his cheek and she saw his head turn...then turn back, unshaken. His eyes were locked on her, taking her in from her legs all the way up her exposed front. They came to a rest around on her cleavage. Rusev licked his lips lustily. “Again.” He said, challenging her.
Aksana gagged in surprise. Most of the men in the company had some sense of decorum unlike this beast. “You...ugh!” She reared back to deliver a slap to his face. Instead of a satisfying smack, she felt his thick hand enclose around her wrist. He let out a hearty laugh, and then pulled her hand close to his mouth for a sloppy kiss. The ensuing nausea was only made worse as he forced her to run her fingers through the forest of hair on his chest.
“Auuuggh! Stop it...what...what is this?!?” She beat a fist against his body, which only made her knuckles sore. Her boot pressed against his thigh as she tried to pull away. There was nothing she could do to escape his grasp.
“Rusev...” Lana commanded from ringside. “Hit.”
Suddenly, Rusev tensed up. He created some space between him and Aksana, angling his body so that he could land a devastating spinning heel kick on her jaw. Seeing Aksana’s head snap back, her knees turned to jelly, the horrified audience didn’t know what to think. She’d presented herself as a vain, arrogant character on television, but nobody thought she deserved to be thrown in the ring with a monster.
Aksana lay on her back, massaging her jaw. It was a miracle she hadn’t lost a tooth. Rusev forced her to stand and applied a side headlock. He balled up his fist and raised it into the air. A fan in the front row yelled for him to stop. The plea went unanswered. Rusev’s fist was driven into Aksana’s face, crunching against her orbital bone. Her arms drooped towards the mat, lamely bopping up and down as Rusev punched her in the face over and over again. More fans started to object as Aksana’s face was tenderized like a slab of beef.
After about a dozen punches, Rusev launched Aksana toward the ropes with an Irish whip. She didn’t so much run as stumble back and forth, completely unaware of where she was. As she neared the centre of the ring, she could see a large figure coming towards her. Rusev obliterated her with a running body block, his massive frame eclipsing her. The collision sent her flying through the air and tumbling across the canvass. The referee went to go check on her. He was willing to call off the match if she’d suffered any serious injuries. Lana made sure that didn’t happen.
“Don’t do anything foolish. Mrs. Stephanie McMahon said she wanted a show. We wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would we? And that goes to you too, stupid girl. Do not even think about giving up now.” Lana looked back to her client. “Rusev. Crush.”
The referee could do nothing to stop Rusev from dragging Aksana off of the mat. She was hoisted up onto his shoulders, facing the ground. He stood stock still, listening to the crowd boo, looking to Aksana for instruction. She nodded. Rusev roared and fell back, slamming Aksana onto the mat with a Samoan drop! She was squashed by three hundred pounds of unforgiving fat and muscle falling on top of her. The announce team could be heard speculating on the number of ribs that must have cracked.
Rusev sat up, chuckling. He was having more fun than he’d ever had in a match before. “Get up, Aksana! Fight.” There was no response from the fallen Diva, who was curled up defensively with her arms covering her stomach. He grabbed the back of her one-piece and hauled her up onto her feet. “Fight. Not over.” Somehow he’d managed to get her standing. A stray leaf could have knocked her on her ass in the condition she was in. The cameraman on the apron zoomed in to capture the miserable look on her face.
“No more...” She begged.
Rusev delivered a light slap to her face, which caused her to fall limply against him. “Ha ha ha! Rusev not pillow.” He grabbed her shoulders and drove a Thai knee into her, just underneath her breasts. They bounced upwards as her body collapsed downwards. Seeing Aksana on her hands and knees filled Rusev’s head with all kinds of unsavoury thoughts. He took a step back, relishing the sight. His right leg extended straight into the air. The audience might have appreciated the surprising flexibility if it wasn’t for what happened next. He brought his heel down across the back of Aksana’s neck, nearly decapitating her with an axe kick! She immediately crumpled to the mat, twitching violently.
There were no more instructions needed. Rusev knew exactly what to do next. He sat down on Aksana’s back, mercilessly squishing her decimated midsection. Her arms were secured and his hands enclosed her mouth, completing the traditional camel clutch hold that Lana had dubbed “The Accolade”. Aksana began to whine in protest before the hold had even been fully applied.
“McMahon say punish. Rusev punish.” He said coldly. Then he cranked up the pressure, causing intense pain to rush through Aksana’s whole body. He allowed her a short, piercing scream before adjusting his grip to silence her. Her dull whimpering was just as satisfying to him. She spent hours sculpting her muscles and now they were on the verge of tearing. If this was supposed to be her punishment, it was hard to imagine anything worse than what was happening to her now.
Luckily, Aksana was still cognizant enough to know how to submit. The referee had wanted to stop this match before it even started, so when he asked her if she wanted to quit, the slightest nod was all he needed to call for the bell. Aksana also tapped her hand against Rusev’s thigh, desperate to communicate to her attacker that she’d had enough. The bell rang repeatedly, but Rusev did not let go. He gave another tug, forcing Aksana’s chest to jut out. She feared that her spine could not withstand being in the camel clutch a second longer.
“Stop, Rusev.” Lana had entered the ring. The referee was relieved to see Rusev release the hold. He went to check on Aksana, but Lana brushed him aside. Rusev still straddled Aksana menacingly. Lana knelt down and tilted Aksana’s head up so they would be face to face. “You don’t make mistake anymore, yes? Be more careful in future.”
Aksana had almost forgotten why this whole scenario had been set up. The thought that a complete accident had brought such cruelty upon her caused her to break down emotionally. She started crying, which drew enormous sympathy from the crowd (not that it would do her any good). “I...sorry...Naomi...never again...”
Lana was pleased. “Yes. Sorry is good. Never again.” She stood up; her hands on her hips in a commanding pose. She raised a fist, signalling for Rusev to slap on The Accolade again.
More screaming. More whimpering. More unnatural grinding of joints and bones. Aksana could not even blink; the camel clutch was causing her such torment. Wet, sorrowful tears forced their way past shut eyelids. Lana continued to taunt her, so engrossed in Aksana’s torture that she was now instinctively slinging insults in Russian. Aksana might have only understood some of the words, but there was no mistaking the complete and utter humiliation she was experiencing. Rusev worked the agonizing hold to maximum effect, not allowing Aksana to escape into unconsciousness.
The message delivered, Lana gestured for Rusev to exit the ring with her. He let go one limb at a time, letting Aksana ooze onto the mat. He gazed down at her in appreciation of his own handiwork. The crowd was in a frenzy now, calling for his head. Aksana had never had such support for her. This new reaction could turn out well for her in the future, not that it registered at the moment. The only thing on her mind was how she wanted the hurting to stop.
Rusev turned her onto her side and cradled her head in his arms. He leaned in to lick the tears off of her face. His tongue ran up the side of her cheeks, the taste of this beautiful woman almost overwhelming him. When Aksana realized what was happening, she sobbed with renewed urgency.
“Anytime. Rematch.” Rusev said, laughing. Nobody else joined in.
After the carnage was over, the medics were allowed to go and check on Aksana. The fans cheered feverishly, as if they could wish her back to health. It would be a while before she could appreciate the sentiment.
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