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Battle LA Inaugural Tournament Round 1, Match 3 of 8 by Markus Wolf

Sydney Virtuous vs Maria Ferrari

Mark of the Wolf 

Aaahhh, I miei occhi (Aaahhh, my eyes)!!!” 

There were two brunettes in the ring facing each other, and one had suddenly spun around, away from the other, clutching her face with both her hands as she did. She was wearing an azzurro light blue swimsuit with a stylized Italian flag over her left breast. She had just been on the receiving end of a despicable attempt to stab her in the eyes. Even though she had managed to shut her eyes in time, the surprise attack had left the Italian howling in pain, stumbling blindly away from the center of the ring where her opponent stood. 

This was Maria Ferrari of Firenze (Florence), and this was not how she had envisioned her pro wrestling career would begin in America.

“Ooooo…” a collective groan of sympathy rose from the spectator stands. A few shouted warnings directed at the Italian girl came from audience members who could plainly see what Maria could not. Before she could do anything else, the blinded brunette felt her head being jerked backwards, her hair being twisted painfully in the process by as her attacker used it for leverage. 

Lasciami andare (Let me go)!” she yelled, digging her heels into the canvas and resist the pull on her hair. “Let me go!” she repeated herself in Italian-accented English.

“Watch the hair!” Maria heard the referee warn her opponent. “And I’m pretty that was an eye gouge earlier. Don’t push your luck!”

“What? Hair? Eyes?” Maria heard the American-accented reply in a tone of disbelief.  “I’m just getting a good grip for my next move, ref.” 

Maria felt the pull on her scalp once more as her opponent compelled her to follow. The other brunette looked down at her before responding to the Italian’s cries. “Andale??? Let’s go?” She shrugged sheepishly before declaring, “Suuure, whatever you say, girl!” 

“Aaaieee—!!!” Maria blurted out as she felt the pull on her hair increase in strength. She lifted her eyelids partway to see where she was being led. When she saw the incoming turnbuckle, she cried out in protest and tried to grab the top rope to lessen the inevitable impact.


“No hair pullin’, ref! Honest!” Maria’s attacker raised both her hands in the air, looking stupefied as she protested her innocence. The ref glared at her before checking on the Italian who had just been introduced to the turnbuckle. The collision had left Maria dazed, unable to do more than blurt out some incoherent sounds. She grabbed the top rope with her right hand for support, shaking her head as she raised her left hand to her forehead. When she felt her opponent’s hands cradle the back of her head as well as cup her chin, she had almost no time to react before she was reintroduced to the top turnbuckle.


And again. 


Ancora (Again).


E di nuovo (And again). 


Basta, per favore (Please, stop)…

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Just over a minute ago, Maria had been waving to the audience, blushing as they applauded her. The welcome she had received had been surprisingly warm despite the fact that she had chosen to wear national colors. She had been preoccupied with showing her gratitude at first, waving and blowing kisses. Once inside the ring, the brunette had teased the audience with a routine that she had composed herself.  With Britney Spears’ Break the Ice playing in the background, Maria had launched into an impromptu and playful pseudo striptease. This song had seemed appropriate to her given that she was brand new to the country and to the LA crowd, and she wanted to use a bit of naughty in her entrance to win them over. 

Let me break the ice

Allow me to get you right

But you warm up to me

Baby I can make you feel

Let me break the ice

Allow me to get you right

But you warm up to me

Baby I can make you feel (hot, hot, hot)

Dancing in time to her theme, she lifted her right leg high into the air, its bare skin gleaming under the lights except where it was covered by a blue kneepad. Her foot lay within a white Adidas ankle boot with blue laces and accents to match her suit. Resting her boot on the top rope, she slowly worked her white hooded warmup jacket down her shoulders. All this time, she wore a brilliant smile on her face that showcased her immaculate teeth. Her jacket featured an eye-catching “ITALIA” printed in the same blue as her swimsuit down the right sleeve, along with a small, formal Italian flag over her left breast. As she slowly removed it to reveal round, well-proportioned breasts, perky nipples, and flat, toned abs encased in light blue spandex.  Maria had been applauded and greeted with loud whistles. In return, she had climbed up to the middle rope and leaned over the turnbuckle to blow more kisses at the audience, intentionally thrusting her shapely, blue-wrapped butt outwards as she did so. She looked completely natural and at ease throughout her introduction, and won herself much adoration in the process.   

Ironically, the young, attractive Florentine had in fact garnered little attention at the pre-tournament press conference held the preceding week. The pretty Japanese reporter she had spoken to had impressed with her working command of English, as well as a smattering of Italian phrases she had learnt just for the interview. Maria had done her best to convey in English a summary of her introduction to wrestling, and later, to professional wrestling. Her cousins from Australia and America had actually first introduced her to pro wrestling via magazines and TV, but she found the scripted nature of the sport as well as its emphasis on spectacle and drama to be unappealing. She found the lack of seriousness about female wrestling and wrestlers to also be at odds with her personal experience with female combat. 

During her teenage years, Maria became enthralled by the idea of wrestling other girls after her first experience, a scrappy affair that had spontaneously erupted following dance practice. She and her friend had threatened to tear each other’s hair out and rip each other’s leotards over some minor issue that she could not even recall. Both had rolled around on the mats with the other girls screaming support for one or the other, pulling hair and jockeying for position, eventually trading schoolgirl pins. Secretly, Maria and her opponent had enjoyed scrapping so much that they agreed to try it again in private. Less screaming, no interruptions, just two girls competing to see who would end up on top, trading control with each fall.   

Submission wrestling in private gradually became a regular affair for Maria, a hobby she took up with a group of like-minded friends. Sessions were simple to arrange at the home of one girl whose parents were often away on business, and all they needed were mats, which attracted little suspicion. Maria came to regard this first as a healthy form of exercise. Although initially scrappy, their matches became longer, and more intense. She and her friends gradually came to think of themselves as athletes, tough, fit, and skilled. Still, the longer she competed within her circle of friends and invited rivals, the less important winning and losing became. Instead, Maria’s wrestling circle came to feel like a sisterhood, which would settle their disputes through wrestling, but more importantly, bonded and grew through their shared love of the sport. 

Maria shared few details about this part of her life with Signorina Sasaki, other than to reveal that submission wrestling against her friends was how she had gotten interested in female combat. 

After graduating from university, Maria had dabbled with the idea of earning a living with her wrestling skills. She had had some experience modeling but yearned to do more than look pretty; she wanted to look pretty while beating up another girl. She was, however, not ready to wrestle in the fierce yet sensual submission style in public, especially when she would have to wrestle complete strangers. Her views on pro wrestling started to soften, particularly when she came to know more about joshi puroresu in Japan. The reduced emphasis on drama and story, and increased emphasis on action and athleticism seemed like a good compromise to someone who was seeking a paid opportunity to test herself against other girls. It also seemed to provide an excuse for traveling abroad. 

Professional wrestling opportunities were limited in Italy, so she eventually auditioned for a Belgian promotion with a female division. This company valued and nurtured technical wrestling skills among its talent, and did not script its match outcomes. The nature of competition appealed to Maria, although the ladies’ division was considerably smaller and attracted less attention than the men. She was also not given a steady contract, since she was literally learning the ropes despite her experience in the submission sport. 

It was therefore no surprise that when Battle Japan issued a call for new talent for its Los Angeles-based expansion, Maria responded immediately. The prospect of being able to wrestle in the world’s largest market for the sport was enticing. She had sent in a video of a submission match that she had done against a friend and a pro match she did against one of the veterans in her company. Both had been closely fought contests that eventually saw the fiery Maria triumph; in the former with a sexy, commanding grapevine pin, and in the latter by subduing her stubborn foe with a well-executed figure four leglock. Somehow, her gamble worked, and the Italian received an invitation to participate in the company’s inaugural tournament.

She had accepted eagerly, even though there was no guarantee of future work with the company, and even though she would be footing the bill for her own expenses. Fortunately, she had an uncle who lived close to Los Angeles who was willing to host her for the duration of her “business travel”.

Maria also remembered her opponent being introduced as Sydney Virtuous, an American. During her interview, Sydney had been congenial, and had appeared to be relatively new to wrestling. When asked about her past experience, she had mentioned some backyard, some school, and some indie experience without any specifics. The Italian starlet had therefore assumed that she would be facing a fellow newcomer, and she was comfortable with that.  

La virtuosa (The virtuous one)? It was a curious name. One that piqued her interest and stayed in her memory.

The American girl was of the same height as the Florentine (163 cm or 5’ 4”), weighted about 50 kg (112 for the former vs 110 lb for the latter), and had a similar build (31-24-32” vs 31-25-32”). Sydney’s complexion was tanned from exposure to the California sun and just a few shades lighter than Maria’s olive skin, although her hair was a strikingly similar shade of caramel brown, and identical in length, reaching past the shoulders and ending just above midback. Sydney had worn her hair straight, keeping her appearance rather demure for the press conference. She had even agreed to pose for a faceoff photo with Maria, both girls playing along by getting their hands up into lockup position. It seemed as if their match would be a fair one. 

Sydney had entered the ring before Maria, stepping through the ropes without a lot of fanfare, though with a classic American soft rock tune playing in the background, Angel of the Morning, sans vocals by Juice Newton. She had chosen unmistakably patriotic colors for her ring gear, having chosen to match white faux leather jacket was matched with an eye-catching, glossy Asics navy blue one piece that sported red piping, along with red calf-length Converse boots with white trim and navy laces. She wore no hose but the skin on her legs glowed under the lights. A mixture of Chinese characters and art on her back, as well a wolf tattoo on her left arm, were revealed when she shed her white jacket, handing it to an eager assistant. Sydney seemed to be a perfect representation of San Diego as she acknowledged the applause and whistles she was receiving.

“Virtuous girls don’t get tattoos, or do they?” said one post on social media, a tongue-in-cheek comment on Sydney’s newly revealed body art. 

Smiling subtly, she had proceeded to start warming up while awaiting her opponent’s arrival, batting her eyelashes occasionally as she gazed through large, wide set brown eyes at the audience. Sydney had kept her entrance routine simple and subdued, instead of trying to outdo the memorable entrances staged by notably Natasha and Brandi in the preceding matches.

When Maria glimpsed her opponent from afar, she was surprised by her rather different appearance compared with the press conference. In addition to the eye-catching body art, Sydney was wearing her hair, which was straight before, in a more elaborate style for the match, with wavier tresses and soft curls than Maria’s simpler, straighter hairdo. The Italian had anticipated a good deal of hair pulling, and did not waste any more time and effort on her hair than was necessary to make it look tidy and presentable; the American, on the other hand, seemed quite proud of her mane, and made sure to use it to enhance her feminine appeal. Sydney also sported a good amount of eye makeup, too much in Maria’s opinion, as opposed to the latter’s emphasis on looking as if she was not wearing makeup, perhaps reflecting a cultural difference between the two women. Sydney did have a nice ass, but Maria felt confident that she held the advantage in the looks department over the American who she felt was trying too hard to distract others from her obvious plainness.

Physical appearance aside, nothing else seemed too different from their previous meeting. As the two girls approached to shake hands, however, Maria’s eyes lingered on the wolf tattoo, though, which had been hidden before by a long sleeve. As they wished each other good luck, the Italian way of saying the same thing quickly came to mind.  

In bocca al lupo (Into the mouth of the wolf). 

The ringing of the opening bell, however, dispelled that thought quickly. Maria needed her full attention on the match. 

Sydney held up her left hand with fingers spread, offering to test her strength against Maria’s. The Italian had accepted gamely, raising her right hand to meet it. She was keen to test herself against la virtuosa, and hopefully overcome her similarly built adversary in a fair contest. Maria had barely accepted the offered left hand with her right, however, when her opponent’s right hand came up. Maria had assumed they were going to lock up with both hands and raised her left hand in anticipation; instead, Sydney’s right hand had instead darted towards her eyes, causing her to shut them on reflex.

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Mamma miala mia testa (Ohhh… my head)…” the olive-complexioned brunette groaned weakly. She felt as if her head had just been treated like a ball of dough that had been pounded into shape by her opponent. Her head was aching badly and she was finding hard to concentrate, as if her skull were filled with wool. She shook her head but she could not clear the feeling. Her arms hung over the top rope as she leaned forward, and her legs felt shaky. 

Perhaps she had accepted that invitation to test her strength too eagerly. Maria cursed her own naiveté; she had assumed too readily that her opponent would be honorable. 

“Ohhh, you poor thing!” she heard Sydney exclaim as her head was drawn backwards once more, this time by the hair. “Sorry, but no snoozing. These folks paid good money to see some action, so let’s give them a good show, okay?”

“Nnnh…l-let go…” Looking out at the stands, she seemed to see stars against a dark sky; in reality, she was probably looking at camera flashes going off among the audience who were seated in stands that were less brightly lit than the ring. She muttered to herself as she reached for her aching forehead.  Her legs felt shaky, she felt woozy, and she had to grip the top rope for support on either side of the turnbuckle in the neutral corner. 

While still trying to find her footing, Maria suddenly found herself caught in a rear chinlock. This caused her to let go of the top rope and try to grab her attacker’s hands instead. That was when she felt herself suddenly being pulled back by a force greater than she had either expected or could resist. Her fall was suddenly interrupted by her opponent’s knees jabbing sharply and abruptly into her back. The double knee backbreaker sent Maria bouncing upwards and rolling to her left on to the mat, coming to a stop near the ropes where she lay face down in a groaning heap, holding her aching back with her right hand. She heard Sydney sniggering over her as she clawed at the canvas, trying her hardest to will herself up. 

“Gosh, pro wrestling in Italy must be fulla amateurs I guess, if you’re a rising star! Maybe I could be national champion if ever go over there!”

Preoccupied with her own pain, Maria did not understand all of what her opponent had just said it seemed to be an attempt to belittle her. But her tone seemed to imply childlike disbelief rather than a malicious insult. 

Sydney Virtuous? That name was either deliberately ironic or impossibly accurate. 

Whatever it was, Maria desperately needed to turn the situation around. She felt her enemy’s boot press down on her head as the crowd booed. The Italian was unsure if the booing was directed at her for her failure to land even a single blow so far, or if it was directed at her attacker instead for her unsportsmanlike behavior. 

What she was certain of, however, was that her opponent was not about to let up. 

Piove sul bagnato (When it rains, it pours), so the saying went. 

Maria hoped that the boos were directed at her attacker. It was humiliating being held down like that, in front of a crowd that was forming its impression of her. Certainly, her friends had posed with their foot on her head or face or even a smother at the end of particularly emotional submission contests, but the right to do so had been earned in every instance. Sydney cared not about such formalities, evidently.  

Eventually, the Italian felt the pressure on her head lift. Sydney’s boots planted themselves instead on either side of her body, under her arms. Maria heard the crowd boo again before her upper arms were gripped by her opponent’s hands, and her upper body lifted up from the mat. As the American’s tight ass pressed down on her back, she felt her arms get hooked over Sydney’s thighs, and her hands trapped under the backs of her assailant’s knees. She felt the smooth skin on the back of her opponent’s hand caress her cheek mockingly before one gripped Maria’s chin and lifted her jaw while the other tugged on her hair, pulling the Italian’s head backwards for a nasty-looking camel clutch. At first, Maria found the pain from her neck and spine to be distressing but bearable. Hence, she did her best to check her reaction. 

When her attacker started pulling on her hair to get a response from her, the Italian yelped but just shook her head. A stealthy pinch and tweak of her right nipple earned another yelp and a grimace. This was followed by Sydney’s fingers inserting themselves into her nostrils and starting to pull her nose upwards; at this point, Maria guessed that former was getting impatient for some sign of suffering.

“Aaahhh!!! Fa male!!!” screamed the Italian girl, finding it difficult to say anything as her opponent squished her cheeks together while still pulling on her nose, grotesquely distorting Maria’s beautiful features. 

“Look at that. Finally got you to exercise those vocal cords. Think I made your pretty little face look better too!” Her opponent seemed hellbent on humiliating her on top of punishing her physically, but again, strangely, there was no malice at all evident from her tone. 

The referee was on her knees, an arm’s length away from both competitors. She looked directly at the suffering Florentine, and spoke loudly to capture her attention, “Maria, do you submit?” 

The Italian opened one eye, her right, while at the same time using her right hand to grab the hand that her attacker had latched on to her jaw. 

Sydney looked at the ref and smiled before looking down at her opponent. “If it’s too much to bear, just tell her you’re done, and I’ll let you go!” she reassured Maria.

“Maria, do you submit? Do you give up?” the referee repeated herself clearly and loudly, deliberately ignoring Sydney. 

“No!!! No give up!” the Italian managed to sputter out of her distorted mouth, drawing the ire of her adversary. 

“Oh, guess you still want more, huh?” the American released her victim’s hair and face, allowing the Italian’s upper half to fall to the canvas. She now went for Maria’s wrists, crossing her arms under her chin before pulling them back across the brunette’s throat. At the same time, she dismounted the Italian and fell back to a sitting position. At the same time, she pulled her victim up to a kneeling position and jammed her knees against Maria’s shoulders, digging her boot tips into the Italian’s aching back before bending her back into the shape of a sexy C, all the while strangling her with her own arms by maintaining the straight jacket hold.

Merda (Shit)…” Maria sputtered, stunned that she had been caught in such a debilitating hold. She found herself with her head hanging upside down, staring at the girl who was threatening to end her US debut in utter humiliation. She was starting to feel dizzy from the flow of blood towards her brain. Her tongue started to inch out her mouth, and her eyes started to roll upwards into the back of her skull. She was also having serious trouble breathing, and was in danger of passing out. 

Her attacker seemed genuinely concerned even as she strangled the Italian into submission. This confused the crowd that wanted to boo her as the villain. 

“Don’t be stubborn, Maria,” she advised her victim gently. “It’s time to give up. You’re no match for me. Live to fight another day.”

Maria had found herself in some painful holds in her submission wrestling experience, but she had also learnt how to escape some dire situations before. Twisting her forearms, Maria took advantage of the growing slickness of her sweaty skin to test the grip that her attacker had on her wrists. Cunning and experience were her tools for overcoming Sydney control.

Indeed, the control that the dominant brunette currently had proved to be less than perfect. Her straight jacket unraveled gradually thanks to the sweat building up on her palms as well as victim’s arms. As she fell forward, Maria felt her opponent’s feet push against the small of her back, adding to her momentum. The Italian broke her fall with both hands, but she was barely able to get up on her hands and knees when she felt a sharp blow to her back that knocked her down again, flat against the canvas. Her opponent’s right arm wrapped around her throat, bicep bulging as Maria found herself caught in a sleeperhold. Yet another submission attempt, but the Italian had had enough of the one-sided affair. Her hand went for her attacker’s lush brown mane; when she felt the soft curls in her hand, Maria gripped them tight and jerked downwards as hard as she could. 

Sydney’s chin crashed into the top of her opponent’s skull. The unexpected jawbreaker caused the American to rethink her submission attempt, allowing the Italian to turn around and club the side of her opponent’s head with her right forearm. Still preoccupied with her aching jaw, the wrestler in red, white, and blue was knocked off balance, and landed on the mat lying on her left side. 

“Owww…” groaned the fallen brunette. 

Maria rubbed sore spot on the top of her head. Her gamble had paid off, and now she had both her opponent’s boots in front of her as she turned around, getting up on one knee. Before the American could retract them, she grabbed both her red-booted feet by the ankles and stood up. 

“My turn,” smiled the Italian, just before she smashed her right boot into the back of her opponent’s left thigh. As her opponent grabbed her aching biceps femoris with her left hand, she looked up at Maria with a look of shock mixed with agony. At the same time, her mouth opened to plead, her right hand spread open. She looked pitiful, causing her attacker to hesitate for a moment. 

“No, don’t!” 

Maria was incensed at what she decided was a farcical act. She answered her opponent by jamming her left boot again into the back of the latter’s left thigh.

Sydney squealed, hurting after that second nutshot. Her opponent had wrested control of the match from her, and was unsympathetic in her retaliation for the domination that Sydney had dished out thus far. Her cries of pain were genuine, and her big brown eyes pleaded for sympathy as she started at her attacker. Maria was aggravated by the fact that this girl seemed to be playing the victim. The American covered her navy-clad crotch with her left hand, emphasizing her vulnerability and the fact that she was at her attacker’s mercy. When the Italian screwed up her mouth, she gave away the fact that Sydney’s behavior was getting to her. 

Maria kept her temper in check, however, and went for a spinning toe hold, crossing Sydney’s left leg around her right. While Sydney tried to kick at Maria with her free right leg, catching her right breast with a glancing blow, the Italian gritted her teeth and snagged her purple boot. Positioning Sydney’s right leg under her left boot, Maria proceeded to before pressing the boot down across her right knee while at the same time, lifting her right boot from behind the ankle. Sydney made a desperate swing to try and grab at her attacker, but Maria quickly dropped to her seat to secure the figure 4 leglock. 

Her attacker’s left calf was pressing down on her left leg, her right boot firmly in Maria’s hands and caught between the Italian girl’s thighs. Sydney screamed in response to the pain from her right knee. She shot up to a sitting position first, trying to resist, and flailed her right hand about, trying in vain to grab at Maria or swat at the Italian’s left leg. Failing to gain any relief that way, she fell back to the canvas, and tried to reach behind her for the ropes, which proved to be just a little bit out of reach. Sitting up again, Sydney did her best to plant both hands firmly on the mat, and inch herself back even as she yelled out loud, refusing to submit when the referee asked. As she flopped back again, she arched her back, roaring as she stretched. For her effort, she got a touch on the lower rope, and the referee quickly called for a break.

Maria did not attempt to prolong the hold, releasing her opponent quickly. Sydney rolled into the corner, curling up and holding her left knee when she stopped. “Yeowww, that hurt!” she whimpered pitifully. She was still curled up when she felt her left foot being caught once more by a pair of hands.

Ancora una volta! One more time!” Sydney looked up to see Maria smiling in the wake of her sarcastic remark. 

“No!!! Please! Leggooo!” Raising her right boot, the American smashed her heel into her opponent’s navy-clad tush as she turned around. A second strike to her rear caused Maria to stumble forward towards the center of the ring, losing her grip on Sydney’s left boot. As Maria fell on her hands and knees, Sydney was quick to get up behind her, doing her best to avoid putting weight on her left knee. 

“You’re not getting lucky twice, you meanie!” the virtuous brunette growled as she slinked up behind her opposite number, using her left hand to swat the Italian across her blue-clad ass while she was still on all fours, making it jiggle under her suit. This move angered but distracted Maria, causing her to straighten up, which allowed Sydney to snag her easily by the hair. Pulling Maria’s head back, Sydney quickly shoved it forward into the mat to stun her opponent. While the olive-skinned brunette went down again on her knees and elbows, the lighter-skinned brunette crawled on top of her and pushed her down. The Italian girl resisted fiercely, trying to turn under the American’s weight. Sydney knew that with her bum knee, she could not keep up with her opponent for too long. She latched her left hand on to Maria’s butt again, pulling and groping it for further distraction. Playing grab ass, though was not Sydney’s goal. Grinning cruelly, she forced her index and middle fingers through the spandex guarding Maria’s anus. This hook allowed the American girl to pinch her opponent’s tailbone against her left thumb, a most embarrassing and uncomfortable hold for the latter. 

The rude shock of this despicable move caused the Italian girl’s eyes and mouth to open wide opened in shock as her lay under her assailant, her cheeks flushed as red as Sydney’s boots. She tightened up her glutes on reflex, but this only helped anchor the anal hook that the San Diegan had sunk inside her. Maria cried out on reflex, hating how Sydney’s fingers felt up her rear, but found that her voice was stopped up inside her throat. A muted squeak emerged from her mouth while she tried to reach out for the nearest rope.


The referee was quick to position herself to try and find out what Sydney was up to, but the American girl had already used the anal hook as she had intended, to position herself on top of her opponent. She quickly scissored Maria’s right arm between her thighs, hooked her own right arm under the Italian girl’s left armpit and reached around the back of her head. As Maria’s top half was peeled from the mat, Sydney snagged her victim’s right wrist using her left hand while torquing the trapped girl’s neck. The double underhook crossface looked perfect, with Maria lying on her right side and Sydney on her left, restraining the movement of both her arms. 

The ref, seeing no problem, fired off the necessary question, “Do you submit?”

Maria, teeth gritted and face still red, struggled to resist the crossface. She wanted to scream an expletive, even though the referee was not the subject of her ire. Instead, she spat out a forceful “NO!!!” 

The referee’s eyebrow went up when she heard the next part. 

“Help! Lei imbroglia!!! She… cheats!!!”. 

“Cheat? Me?” Sydney raised the question innocently as she struggled with her stubborn opponent. The ref and the navy-clad brunette traded glances, but the official had seen nothing that was worthy of disqualification. “How am I cheating???” 

Maria answered that question by throwing her left knee up to catch the incredulous Sydney in the head. The impact was not forceful enough to make her undo the crossface, but the American let go of her right wrist so that she could hook her opponent’s nostrils like she did before in her camel clutch. Only this time, she was using the two fingers she had just dug into the Italian’s rear end. Maria closed her eyes, unable to prevent this egregious act. 

Puttana (Bitch)!!!” seethed the Italian.

The American looked simultaneously flabbergasted and livid.  “Did you just call me a puta?” she asked incredulously. 

The Virtuous One’s persistent attempts at humiliation had only served to infuriate Maria; she responded not with words, but with action, firing her left knee upwards again towards Sydney’s head.


After receiving the second knee to her head, Sydney was starting to see red. She released the nose hook and tried to instead grab her right wrist again to tighten up the crossface once more. The Italian girl was, naturally, less than cooperative. Turning to her left and spreading her legs to stabilize herself, Maria attempted to catch Sydney by surprise and press her shoulders to the mat. Silently, she gave thanks when she was successful at triggering a first count from the ref. 

Meno male (Thank goodness).


Sydney, unwilling to give up the positional advantage that she held, undid the crossface to avoid being pinned. As soon as Maria attempted to sit up, however, her opponent threw her right leg over her head and tried to hook it across her throat to bring her back down with a headscissors while scooping her left leg off the canvas by wrapping her left arm up around the back of Maria’s left knee; however, the Italian’s right arm came up to interfere with the headscissors while her left hand grabbed and pushed at Sydney’s left forearm to keep her from hooking her leg perfectly. Once more, the American found herself being denied the kill. The ref, seeing that the two wrestlers were hopelessly entangled, with neither holding a clear advantage, ordered them to break. 

As they disentangled themselves, however, the painted beauty jammed a thumb into the nerve-rich back of her opponent’s left knee, causing the Italian girl to yelp in pain and halt her struggling. Both girls rolled away from each other before starting to get to their feet. Maria glared at Sydney intensely, finding her growing hatred for l’americana impossible to hide. L’italiana picked at the spandex that her opponent had forced inside her rear end, still shocked that the American girl had gone that far. 

“You—,” Maria growled, “—you are sick. Depravato (Depraved)!” 

“What??? Me??? What did I do???” Sydney batted her eyes in disbelief, pressing both hands to her chest in incredulity. “You even called me a puta, you awful person!”

Un lupo in veste di agnello (A wolf in sheep’s clothing), the Italian thought to herself as she spied the wolf tattoo above the left hand that the American had used to violate her. 

Sydney cringed as she tried to distribute her weight equally between both feet. She was still loath to put much weight on her left knee, but now, she had evened things up a little by making Maria uncomfortable in the same leg. It seemed as if the match was going to be decided by whoever could pull off an inescapable hold first. Both wrestlers got their arms up, starting a slow circle as their eyes narrowed.

“Go ahead, make your move,” Sydney dared her opponent, taunting the Italian by beckoning her with the same two fingers she had violated her with earlier. 

Prima tu,” Maria replied with an angry hiss, wondering if the American was baiting her, mocking her, or truly oblivious. “You first.” 

Sydney shrugged and smiled. “If you say so!” 

She took a forceful step forward with her right foot, at the same time swinging her right forearm towards Maria’s chest. The Italian, however, sidestepped to her own right, and swiveled on her left foot. As Sydney’s forearm went wide and missed its intended target, Maria’ swung her right foot into the exposed back of Sydney’s left leg. This blow brought the American girl down on her right knee, which put her in position for Maria to lift her foot and deliver a splendidly aimed toe kick to the American’s belly. 

Sydney went down on both knees, her right arm wrapped around her midsection and her left hand pressed against the canvas, grimacing in pain. Her opponent could feel no pity for la virtuosa, or rather, la peccatrice (the sinner). Raising her shapely right leg into the air like the ballerina she once trained to become, Maria immediately swung it downwards in like an axe, slamming the back of her white boot into the back of Sydney’s neck, flattening her against the mat. Glancing down at the painted back of her American foe, the Italian knew exactly what she wanted to do next. Maria targeted the prone Sydney’s left leg, scooping it up to apply an over-the-shoulder single leg crab. The American screamed when she realized what her opponent was planning to do, her ass being lifted into the air and her navy-clad crotch being exposed in the process as Maria adjusted Sydney’s left leg over her neck.

“So vulgar!” the Italian chided her opponent, slapping her lightly between the legs for emphasis. The slap was also calculated to distract the American, threatening her with reprisal for all the dirty moves she had used thus far. She followed by pulling down hard on Sydney’s left shin, punishing her already hurting left knee. As the American screamed in pain, eliciting a measure of sympathy from the crowd, Maria’s expression hardened. She felt a familiar high that she associated with being in control, and being on the verge of victory. Her normally perky nipples stiffened, erect not from sexual excitement, but from the feeling of finally being in firm control of her opponent’s fate. Maria had always enjoyed being in a position of dominance. As Sydney struggled beneath her, her navy-clad crotch embarrassingly exposed, the Italian delivered her ultimatum with stern finality. 

“You. Yield. Now.”

The pain and her unwillingness to lose, however, were both powerful motivators for Sydney, however. Using her free arms, the American crawled away from Maria’s right foot before she could throw it across Sydney’s throat to keep her in place. The brunette with the body art did a little circle and quickly attempted to sit up, messing up Maria’s execution of her finisher. Maria lunged at Sydney to keep her from escaping, but she was met by Sydney’s right forearm, which connected her jaw and knocked her back on her ass. This allowed the Virtuous One to free herself and slide backwards safely away from her would-be conqueror.

As Maria sat momentarily stunned on the mat, Sydney was quick to spring to her feet and stage a counterattack. The navy-clad brunette rushed forward and smashed her right knee into Maria’s face, a vicious attack that knocked the brunette in light blue flat on her back. The Italian was left groaning in pain as she covered her face with her hands, making sure that her teeth were still intact. To make sure she stayed there, and set her up for the finish, Sydney strode up to her left side and executed a quick elbow drop on her fallen opponent. As she drove her left elbow deep into Maria’s blue-covered belly, the Italian jackknifed instantly before folding up and rolling over reflexively to her right side, laying there with arms wrapped around her tummy while groaning in pain. Sydney’s target, her opponent’s shapely left leg, was now ripe for the taking. 

After making her earlier escape from Maria’s submission attempt, Sydney had already decided on an eye for an eye; she would use the same move Maria had attempted to make her submit to against the Italian. She would, however, show the Italian how to do it the right way.

Snatching up her opponent’s left leg, Sydney lifted it over her neck while at the same time, pulling down across her left shoulder, turning the Italian over completely in the process so that she lay on her front. The American made sure to avoid the mistake that her opponent had made earlier; she used her right knee to keep Maria’s left thigh aloft while using her body weight to pin Maria to the mat. Sydney kept her left knee on her victim’s back while pushing her head down with her left hand. The Italian’s right arm was trapped under her chest, making it difficult for her to resist. When she attempted to push up, Sydney simply used her right hand to push Maria’s left leg further forward across her neck, forcing her to do an excruciating leg split. It was a stretch muffler with a very different and sadistic twist. While stressing the Italian girl’s knee, the American was also testing the flexibility of her hamstrings, hip flexors, and her abs. The way that the ref was positioned relative to the two girls also afforded the attacker an opportunity that despite her ring name, she would not pass up. With the official directly in front of Maria, her attention focused on whether the Italian would submit, she did not notice Sydney’s slide her right hand down to her exposed groin. The Italian gasped when she felt a slap on her barely covered kitty, payback for what she had done to Sydney earlier. 

“So vulgar!” the American mocked her victim in the same way that she had been mocked earlier. What followed next, however, caused a chill to run up Maria’s spine.

That was a warning,” Sydney now whispered in a threatening voice. Her hand teased the Florentine’s wide open kitty before grabbing it lightly, a fingernail grazing against the thin spandex layer covering it. “Now, tell me, are you going to submit?” 

Finally, la virtuosa seemed to have shed her disguise. Maria gulped as she felt the claw running back and forth along her crotch. The pain from her left knee, from the various parts of her body being stretched to the limit of their flexibility, coupled with the threat to her vulnerable pussy all combined to cause the girl in light blue unimaginable distress. 

Non oserebbe, vero (She wouldn’t dare, would she)? she asked herself even as she dug the fingernails on her free left hand into the canvas, almost biting the mat covering to keep herself from screaming out loud. “Let me go,” demanded the Florentine, trying to keep up a brave front, doing her best to make herself sound defiant. Fear, however, was inevitably threatening to seize control of her despite her best efforts to resist it. 

That defiance earned her a painful tug on her mane, followed by an even wider leg split as Sydney used her left hand now to pull on Maria’s left boot. The suffering Italian opened her mouth, but kept her instinct to scream in check. She could feel a sob rising to her chest, but she continued to fight it. When she felt Sydney’s fingers push through the blue spandex covering her sex, however, the figurative dam broke. 

“R-r-refereee, pleeease!” Maria squealed. She was too far from the ropes for a break, and escape from her assailant seemed impossible. 

“Do you submit?” the referee asked, laser-focused on the Italian girl’s face, its pretty features distorted by the pain and distress being inflicted on its owner. 

“You… will… submit…!” Sydney commanded sternly through clenched teeth. The Virtuous One seemed to have been consumed by the Devil, a cruel grin starting to form on her face. The Jekyll and Hyde transformation stunned some of those watching from the stands, who watched helplessly as she sought to destroy her opponent physically and psychologically. Her index and middle fingers intruded further into Maria’s sex, as far as her suit’s constraints would permit, and started to push in and out subtly. Never had an opponent been this brazen when wrestling her, and the Italian could feel her will to resist crumble. 

No… mai (No… never)…” Maria gasped, continuing to hold out, hoping, praying for intervention. Sydney stopped the assault on her pussy as the referee circled around to check on things, but the San Diegan did not relent when it came to her opponent’s leg. Her right hand slipped into Maria’s left leghole, across her ass cheeks, her fingers resurfacing after passing through her right leghole. Using her opponent’s suit against her, Sydney jerked the blue spandex upwards into the groove between her butt cheeks, inflicting a painful wedgie on Maria that caused her to shriek. As the Florentine tried to stifle her scream, her assailant left her cheeks hanging out of her suit before running her right hand up Maria’s left thigh again. Sydney simultaneously leaned forward to apply her full body weight on the Florentine’s back while pulling down on the tongue of her left boot to worsen the tension on her hamstrings.  

“Give up, or I will make you regret it!”

Maria was despondent. The pain was becoming unbearable. As flexible as she was, she felt as if the Hyde version of Sydney might just tear her hamstrings to get the victory she desired. 

Reluctantly, the Italian started to tap the canvas. First a lone tap. 

Followed by another. 

And a third.

Mi arrendo (I surrender).

The referee reacted and signaled for the final bell.


Sydney did not relent immediately after the bell. The navy-clad brunette cranked the maintained the stretch muffler for a little, pointing discretely, perhaps unconsciously, at the cameltoe she had inflicted on her opponent. The Italian girl’s labia and slit, hugged uncomfortably tight by blue spandex, had been rendered so prominent by the wedgie inflicted on her earlier that they provided a delectable subject for many a camera. 

This humiliation was far from Maria’s mind, however. Still suffering from the hold she had just submitted to, she bit her lip, fighting the urge to scream. She was unwilling to give her victorious opponent any more satisfaction than she was already experiencing. The hapless brunette in blue slapped at the mat repeatedly, forcefully to induce the referee to intervene.

“This is for being stubborn,” Sydney seethed, unwilling to accept her vanquished opponent’s surrender.

S-smettiiila (Stop that)! P-per favooore (Please)!” Maria begged, almost in tears. She could not remember any opponent treating her the way that Sydney was treating her. “Stop! Please… referee, stop herrr!!!”

“Stop? Me?” Sydney growled, sounding positively vindictive. Her personality seemed to have done a complete 180 from before or at the beginning of the match. “You thought you could just walk all over me, didn’t you? You arrogant little… bitch.” 

As the ref demanded that the navy-clad wrestler release her opponent, the American girl deliberately took her time. As the timekeeper rang the final bell once more, she started to remove her body weight from the vanquished Italian’s back, but suddenly jerked Maria’s head cruelly off the mat by her hair before smashing her face back down. At last, Sydney tossed the beaten girl’s tortured leg down to the mat and rose to her feet, using her foot to roll Maria’s body aside before she allowed the ref to take her right hand and formally declare her the winer.

“The winner of this contest, by submission—”

“Better get used to losing,” Sydney sneered as she walked towards Maria, who lay on her back, massaging her left leg with one hand while covering her face with the other. Parking her right boot firmly on Maria’s sternum, between her twin orbs, the victorious Sydney began to address her beaten adversary. “Y’know, my nonna used to say that in Italian, you say ‘into the mouth of the wolf’ when you wishing someone good luck, and that person would reply with something like ‘I hope the wolf croaks’.”

“—Sydneyyy… Virtuous!!!”

Maria was shocked by this voluntary revelation, that her opponent was either Italian or part-Italian by descent. She was reminded of what she was thinking at the start of the match when that wolf tattoo had caught her attention. 

“Nothing to say?” the American asked while pressing down on her defeated opponent’s chest with her boot.

Maria’s eyes blazed. She could not accept this defeat.

In boca al lupo is someone wishing you good luck, and crepi il lupo (May the wolf die) is what we say in reply,” Maria managed in a hoarse voice, trying to resist the pressure being placed on her chest.

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Sydney grinned, parking her right hand on her raised right thigh. She did not care if it was or not. Raising her left hand to the side of her face, she flashed the wolf tattoo at the defeated Maria. “Guess you mistook this wolf for a sheep, and too bad for you, cuz this wolf didn’t croak,” the American grinned as she stabbed her right thumb into the center of her navy-clad chest. 

“We will see… next time…” the defiant Italian started to answer, at the same time forming a fist with her right hand, but the victorious San Diegan interrupted by spitting at her face. 

Arrivederci (Until we meet again). Although if I were you, I would hope there is no next time.”

Pushing down again on the Italian’s chest, Sydney stepped painfully off the beaten beauty and made her way through the ropes. As she departed the ring, Maria rolled over and propped her upper body up with her elbows. The audience expected her to be filled with despair, but instead, she wiped the spittle from her face using the back of her right hand, and slapped the mat loudly with the same hand.

Non riposerò, non vacillerò (I will not rest. I will not falter)!” she declared, yelling at the painted back of her departing vanquisher, who heard none of Maria’s words. Her opponent expected her to simply disappear after a decisive defeat. The fiery maiden from Firenze, however, had instead decided that she was going to train even harder for a comeback. Her revenge would be to become even better than she was, and when she met Sydney again, she would show the American just how much better. 

Time was her friend. 

La vendetta non e’ mai ben fatta in fretta (revenge is never well done in a hurry).  

The End.

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