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Description

The momentum was short lived as Raye was more prepared this trip to the mat. To say she was prepared for the kill would be incorrect.   It sort of just happened as sometimes does in a fight. The scramble of legs and arms and bodies and each fighter attempting to impose their own will on the match and bodies end up in odd positions.

Waists and heads are reached for, legs and arms are grabbed.   It’s wrestling and grappling in it’s most basic form.

In the struggle Raye and a wrist, Cynthia a solid grip on the waist.    They both adjusted and in the end the adjustments were in roughly the same direction.   Raye got the advantage and pulled Cynthia in far enough to snare Cynthia’s head.

“Shit” Cynthia mumbled and struggled mightily in the opposite direction, but was a tick too slow.

Raye’s thick and strong thigh’s had found their mark a shade before Cynthia could react.

Many at the gym and in the league had fallen victim to Raye’s scissorhold, whether matches or practice.

None had found a way out.

Cynthia tried but she was in a poor spot to defend, front facing and in the triangle.   The struggle didn’t last long as Raye powered up the hold.

Cynthia could feel the lightheadedness beginning to set in and tried for one more frantic escape to try to save her championship run, but her frantic really wasn’t that much resistance at all.

“Fuck … I GIVEE!” she finally resigned, tapping somewhere between firmly and desperately on Raye’s hip.

“That’s it, Raye! You’ve won!” Elizabeth started toward the pile but per the norm, Raye had already began loosening and removing her legs from Cynthia's trapped arm and head.

Raye sprung to her feet, Cynthia rolled away and they both sort of stared at one another.

Description

The momentum was short lived as Raye was more prepared this trip to the mat. To say she was prepared for the kill would be incorrect.   It sort of just happened as sometimes does in a fight. The scramble of legs and arms and bodies and each fighter attempting to impose their own will on the match and bodies end up in odd positions.

Waists and heads are reached for, legs and arms are grabbed.   It’s wrestling and grappling in it’s most basic form.

In the struggle Raye and a wrist, Cynthia a solid grip on the waist.    They both adjusted and in the end the adjustments were in roughly the same direction.   Raye got the advantage and pulled Cynthia in far enough to snare Cynthia’s head.

“Shit” Cynthia mumbled and struggled mightily in the opposite direction, but was a tick too slow.

Raye’s thick and strong thigh’s had found their mark a shade before Cynthia could react.

Many at the gym and in the league had fallen victim to Raye’s scissorhold, whether matches or practice.

None had found a way out.

Cynthia tried but she was in a poor spot to defend, front facing and in the triangle.   The struggle didn’t last long as Raye powered up the hold.

Cynthia could feel the lightheadedness beginning to set in and tried for one more frantic escape to try to save her championship run, but her frantic really wasn’t that much resistance at all.

“Fuck … I GIVEE!” she finally resigned, tapping somewhere between firmly and desperately on Raye’s hip.

“That’s it, Raye! You’ve won!” Elizabeth started toward the pile but per the norm, Raye had already began loosening and removing her legs from Cynthia's trapped arm and head.

Raye sprung to her feet, Cynthia rolled away and they both sort of stared at one another.