Widow leaned back in her chair as the match ended. Mercy had fucked up again... shown how vulnerable she was... and she felt she could use it as she looked down at Tracer who was doing the usual prep work for Widow's matches, worshiping her legs and feet that stuck out from her robe.
Tracer sucked hungrily on Widow's toes as if they were all she'd be allowed to eat all night, looking up at her with wide, content eyes. She'd been shown how weak she was in their old match, and she never wanted to leave her mistress' side when she could protect her so well. Even when they were scheduled for matches together in the ring, it was a sight to see that was more sadistic art than a match. She ran her hands over her strong purple thighs. "You've never looked so ready, mistress," she praised.
Widow just sighed as she used a foot to toy with Tracer's exposed tits, "I don't even need to be, Symmetra is easy prey. I might bring her back her for a good penalty fucking..."
"Mm, you know how jealous I get when you hurt someone besides me," she sighed with a smile. "Not that t doesn't turn me on somefin awful." She patted one of Widow's calves fondly. "Think these ladykillers are all good to go. Don't forget not to make her cry too fast this time. You know how we all love a show, roight?"
Widow just grinned before snapping her toned legs tightly around Tracer's neck, choking her. Slowly she bent forward with utter grace to place a kiss on the girl's gasping lips, "I am well aware..." before bending back and releasing the hold to stand over her.
Tracer gasped and gagged, doing her best not to drool over the perfect and oiled legs. Her eyes went wide as she gasped, still a little sore from her match and shivering at how pathetically weak Widow always made her feel. She just nodded as best she could in the vice like grip, looking more like a seizure victim as she kissed at her thighs.
Widow gave a deft pat to Tracer's cheek before strutting away from the coughing girl and to the door to go to her match, "Have a bath prepared for my return, make sure it stays hot! If it is cold... I don't need to say... Oh, and put some of your juices in zere wiz rose water... I find it softens my skin..." Before she closed the door.
Symmetra was in her classic, open-hipped dress, meticulously practicing her kicks and strikes in the mirror. The perfectionist architect was finding her blows were about 2 degrees off from usual, and she hated it. She'd have to up her carb intake to get her muscles back in line. But it was still most of the way, which was good enough for most. Symmetra, win or lose, wanted to be sure that SHE was always at her best. Shaking it off, she thumbed a few last bits of lipstick from the edges of her mouth and started out for the ring. She was something of a lower middle tier overall, but she had her share of fans that flashed "Symmetra is Perfection" signs and the like as she bent over low to flash some of her coffee-colored hips as she entered the ring.
Widow strut into the ring to a chorus of boos and a few solitary cheers. She waved nonetheless. These peasants wouldn't know talent it it jammed its pussy in their face. Her rope rustled about her as she slipped into the ring and eyed her opponent.
Symmetra looked at her seriously and took a sturdy stance, her own toned legs and big hips spread wide. "Keep an eye on her, ref," she warned as Zenyatta came over to pat her down. "You know she's a sneaky little witch with some dirty tricks up her dirty twat." Some of the crowd laughed and cheered at the amplified warning.
Zenyatta just gave a nod, "I endeavor to make sure no rule is broken, regardless of the combatants." Widow just flipped her off from behind Zen's back. As the ref turned to her, Widow then dropped her robe to reveal her tight one piece suit which compressed her large tits to look like no more than b cups and showed off her winning legs. Zen patted her down as well as Widow just grinned at Symmetra.
Sym sneered back in a mock-smile as the omnic motioned for the bell, floating back to a neutral corner as they women circled, Symmetra careful to take up a precise circle to optimize her mobility. She didn't have the raw might or size of some of the others, but she worked hard to keep up all she could. She would finally rush in to lock up with Widow's shoulders, trying to power into her and push her back. After a few seconds of resistance, she'd go for her real target and try to kick the heel of her boot into one of Widow's prized and powerful thighs
Sym's first part of the plan worked well, forcing the two of them into a lock up, Widow grunting at the fact that she was now forced to use her less optimal upper body. But Sym's kick to the thigh was almost useless. The sheer muscle mass of the thigh deflected the attack and any force it might have exerted back into Sym!
Symmetra bounced off harmlessly, the crowd giving a brief cheer with a somewhat disappointed gasp. Symmetra frowned and tried another, not wanting Widow to use them on her in full force. When the three shots failed, she instead pulled on Widow's arm and leaned back, trying to force her into a short but tactical clothesline
Widow flew towards the Indian's arm but simply dodged under it like a game of limbo, giving a grin at Symmetra but not giving any indication that she was about to counter attack. It was almost as if this match was a joke to her.
Symmetra spun around quickly, but angered as Widow simply did nothing. "Don't get cocky, you walking corpse," she threatened, trying to throw a speedy backhand chop across her corseted purple tits
Widow just laughed and dodged away from the chop, spinning behind Symmetra and throwing her hand into the Indian's hair to muss it up, "Mmmm, right back at you, OCDyke"
Symmetra let out a shrill shriek of rage, fussing her hands through her hair as Widow likely expected for a quick fix. Her particular mindset was a topic of much discussion, but she had always set it aside as best she could by focusing on her wrestling. She grabbed for Widow's arm again, but rather than locking up, trying to zi behind her and pull a chicken wing up behind her back. "You'll pay for that, you creepy bully!"
Widow did not expect Symmetra to recover so quickly and was quickly caught in the painful chicken wing, giving out a stifled scream as the cold metal of Symmetra arm pulled up on her.
The metal digits dug into Widow's wrist, steering her around the ring as the crowd popped for the start of the comeback. She'd give it one more crank before she'd run for the farthest corner, trying to smash Widow's tits into a ringpost as fast and precisely as she could.
Widow's mind began to race. This was unexpected. Perhaps the Indian had learned? In any case, this was now a fight. Widow gave out a yell as her already compressed tits were forced into the post accurately.
"Looks like that was right on target! Say what you will about Symmetra, but I think she just turned Widow's nipples from outie to innie on that one!" Soldier announced as Symmetra let Widow bounce off the ropes and let her go. Instead of following, she darted for the corner, making some fast calculations and jumping up, kicking off the middle turnbuckle and trying to spin kick at Widow's head.
Widow felt relief at being released and grinned to herself. Symmetra had gotten in close with her and had started beating her... but open fighting was more her style anyway. Ignoring the pain in her breasts, Widow dived under the spin kick while sending a fist to connect with the soft flesh under Symmetra's knee.
Symmetra landed gracefully when her kick missed, but the punch made her shout in pain and fell to her knee, clutching it painfully. "Oh SHIT!" she wailed, Widow basically employing the same plan she'd had for her. She turned and threw another kick at her calf, trying to return the favor once again
Widow grinned. Sym had obviously not learned her lesson from her first attack as her kick did minimal damage to Widow's toned calf. Widow had her weak points, certainly, but few were in her flawless legs. The French woman just laughed as she performed a painful looking leg drop on Sym's waist.
The dense thigh slammed down on Symmetra belly, making her flop on the mats and hug her stomach painfully. The crowd OOHed in sympathy pain as she tried to roll over and grab the ropes to get back up
Knowing Zen was watching, Widow let the Indian get back up. She was liking the girl's audacity. It would just make her more amusing to break... and make her hers...
Symmetra wiped some sweat from her face and turned back at her opponent, flexing her metallic hand a few times. She wound it up and rushed at Widow, trying to feint with the clearly stronger limb just to deliver a bunch of hard, quicker shots with her organic limb instead to her head
Widow fell for it, getting several quick shots to the head, making her moan in shock and pain as she backed up from the heavy attack.
Symmetra tried to seize the match again, grabbing Widow in a headlock and pressing her thumb against some nerves in her neck, trying to force her to her knees. "Come on, you fat assed blueberry! Give up!" she demanded. "Submit! Yield! Relent!"
Widow fought against the pain and, making sure it was out of Zen's line of sight, sent a clawed hand up into Sym's dress to claw at her pussy.
Symmetra gave a high scream, the good-natured android not looking fast enough to catch the attack. Sym couldn't hold it for long as she jumped off, rubbing her crotch and pointing accusingly for the ref as her eyes watered.
While the Omnic just shrugged in confusion, Widow jumped on Sym's back, getting her python like legs wrapped around her waist and began to squeeze while her arms put her in a choke hold. She bent forward to lick at the Indian's ear and whisper, "You shouldn't have worn such a long dres..."
Sym gasped and fell over backward, clawing at Widow's arms and legs in a blind panic. She clearly knew the trouble she was in, caught on the mats in one of Widow's nastier holds. She tried to elbow back at her arm or ribs, whatever she could to try to escape
Widow continued to maintain her hold and laughed almost wickedly as she tightened her grip. A struggle was expected and she had prepared for any elbows that might come her way, making sure to stay toward the center of Sym's back.
Symmetra’s breathing grew heavier as her stomach was squashed between the vice-like thighs, resorting to trying to drag herself towards the ropes with her robotic arm while the organic still scratched and bashed at Widow's knee. Zenyatta checked on her for a submission, and she shook her head with a vacant but focused stare on her face.
Seeing her prey was trying to get to the ropes, Widow dropped her legs from Sym's waist and planted them firmly on the ground to hold her in place, while one of her hands yanked down on one side of the dress, giving an uneven view of Sym's caramel breasts.
Symmetra gave a sharp gasp as the dress came down partly to one side, exposing one of her tits and half of the other. Symmetra struggled to try to fix it the fine but torn dress, cursing furiously under her breath before she tried to turn her weight onto one leg and mule kick back at Widow with a face of absolute, purest outrage. "THAT was my favorite dress, you cobweb cunted witch!"
Widow dodged the kick and brought a hand down and around to rip at the dress bit that dangled between Sym's legs. Widow laughed, "Well I must say you have very poor taste in fashion..."
The flap ripped out of her thighs as she snarled furiously, her calculating composure lost as she turned and clawed at Widow's cool skin in a frenzy. "I hate you! I hate you!" she ranted. "This is why EVERYone hates you! This is why you think slaves are friends!"
Widow just rolled her eyes and stuffed the flap into Sym's mouth, a grin on her face and whispered in her ear, "You're right on zat I don't have friends, but I was never under ze delusion that I had any... Why? Do you want to be my friend?" She placed a chilling kiss on Sym's pressure point, one of her hands grabbing the Indian's flailing claws and almost gently forcing it to her side.
Symmetra blood ran cold at the cool kiss to the tender spot, momentarily weakened and disoriented as she was forced to the mats again. Her breath came out with an involuntary shudder, a few tears coming from her eyes as the air hit her body unevenly and she choked on her own sweaty dress. She shook her head in a miserable attempt at defiance, her unsteady breath too little after the crushing scissor before as her other hand weakly shoved at Widow's face. Her head games were clearly starting to take a grip on the fight.
Widow raised an eyebrow, "No? Pity... I would have liked to have you as a friend... But I suppose a slave will be just as good, I'll just have to BREAK you first!" With the word 'break' she send a fist slamming down the Indian's stomach before rolling them over so Sym was forced face down on the mat and Widow sat on her back, lifting up her back flap and revealing her under garment covered ass.
Sym rolled onto her stomach with a groan, shaking her head rapidly. "No... no please... I'll be a friend. I barely have Mei at this point..." Constructs she knew, but people... her brown, thonged bottom was flashed to the crowd as she squirmed weakly. "Please stop. Stop stop stop I can't stand it... this fucking dress!" she hissed, as if that were the worst part of it all.
Widow laughed and yelled out to the arena, "Ze bitch is complaining about wearing her dress! Shall I take it off her!" Cheers of agreement erupted from the crowd but Widow just shook her head, "You are all ze perverts!" That earned her a bunch of boos in return before she whispered in Sym's ear, "You'll keep it on... you will until you beat me or I say... And I believe zere is only one real solution..."
Symmetra gave one last wild squirm of a struggle before tears ran down her cheeks. "You're heartless," she whimpered with a mix of frightened and angry glare. She reached out and tried to tap out, if she would be allowed.
Zenyatta simply shook his head, "I am sorry Symmetra but the match is to one fall, not including submissions..." Widow laughed, "See Symmetra? I'm simply obeying ze rules." With that, she stood and grabbed a hold of Sym's rather luxurious dark locks to pull her up with her, grinning to the booing crowd.
Symmetra yelped out miserably, forced to rise with the pull to minimize the pain and stumbling in her still off-center dress, spitting out the makeshift gag at last. She still struggled to cover one of her breasts better with the dress as she kicked frantically at Widow's legs again, shoving at her breasts hard
Widow simply through her roughly into the ring post to make her stop flailing and moved in to give several painful slaps to the face, tits, and some punches to the belly.
The body blows were too much for her to block, her dress still falling off her body. "What do you want already?" she cursed, clearly sweating and disoriented. "Stop it with your... UNF! Your games," she grunted, holding her stomach from the last belly punch
Widow leaned in and laughed, "But I have having so much fun!" She yanked down Sym's head to put her in a headlock before lifting the Indian into the air before throwing her to the mat behind her.
Symmetra was easily lifted up and suplexed back to the mats, bouncing off her round rump as she landed. She winced and held her back, her sharp-featured face twisting in pain as she saw she had no easy way out, trying to force herself to focus on at least fighting back enough to make sure Widow wouldn't just enjoy herself...
Widow strut over to her victim and lifted her off the mat by the hair again and sent her into the ropes to bounce off them, while running to the opposite ropes to bounce of them. The two sent towards each other with full force and Widow setting out her arm in a horrific clothesline.
Sym seemed set on course for the clothesline, but she ducked under it and swiftly turned back around. She raised one of her nimble legs and hooked it over Widow's arm, pulling back on her head and up on her arm, flexing the leg to try to force up Widow into the elaborate and angular hold to twist her out of shape
Widow, not expecting this, was caught and fell chest first to the ground as Symmetra pulled her arm back toward her. Widow's yellow eyes widened in alarm, realizing Symmetra was going for her signature move, The Ordered Knot! And though Widow knew it was mostly for submission, she also knew it would still hurt a lot if completed!
Symmetra pulled up on the one arm, wrapping her legs around the other as she pulled it back and pressed her chest and stomach against the back of Widow's head like a living set of stocks. "I will shape order from your chaos," she hissed, trying to stretch and bend Widow's arms back behind her back sharply.
Widow let out a yell as her back bent in pain as her arms were pulled behind her! Using all her willpower, she lifted her legs from behind her and in an amazing feat of agility, locked her titan legs around Sym's neck, yanking her back and freeing her arms from the move.
Symmetra yelped as the strange neck scissor threw her back down, Widow's inhuman flexibility and anatomy outdoing her otherwise punishing stretch. She landed hard and rolled a few yards, finally pulling herself up. Much to the fans' delight, she finally grew fed up and yanked the dress off over her head, wrapping it in her hands and trying to loop it around Widow's neck for a stranglehold. "This is punishment for your crimes, you witch!" she snarled as she lashed out
Widow had been having fun before. But now, it was over. As Symmetra attempted to strangle her with her dress, Widow threw an elbow back to collide with the Indian's head, with all the force she could muster.
The big, dense noise was heard far off as Symettra's legs and arms went limp, her eyes rolling back at the elbow smashed into her temple and she fell to the mats. She looked utterly motionless, not out cold but her body rocked by the vicious and powerful hit to the sore spot. Her head throbbed and her body was sluggish to react now... she had to get up! Her plans were in ruins, and she had to salvage all that she could.
Widow, swift as a lioness taking down her prey, jumped onto Symmetra's stomach and began raining heavy fist after fist of cold fury onto the Indian's unprotected face, tits, and any other body part that got in their way. A harsh fury lit the yellow eyes ablaze as Widow began swearing out in French.
The crowd shouted and booed as she as Symettra's defenseless face was beaten around, and her bare breasts mashed and squashed by Widow's fists. She put up her robotic arm in a pathetic guard to minimize the impact, but she was indeed slow and glassy-eyed as she was beaten and her lip split and her eye and nose swelling from the brutal blows.
Finally, Widow stopped her assault and sprawled out atop her opponent for a pin, whispering, "I offered you my friendship, now you will have my wrath... slave..."
Sym had the last of the fight beaten out of her, tears running from her face as she laid in only her thong. She couldn't resist even the simple pin apart from a brief look of... perhaps it was sympathy? Strange as it was, she knew Widow wasn't quite right, and it struck a bit of a chord with her in a strange, defeated sort of way. She could call her whatever she wanted at this point...
Zen finished the count and Widow's haunting theme played over the speakers to a throng of boos from the crowd. But the French woman paid no attention, instead, lifting Symmetra onto her shoulders and out of the ring, heading towards backstage. As she strut, she kept an almost gentle elegance as she carried Symmetra backstage with her.
Symmetra curled up defensively at her defeat, but she was carried along easily enough. She wriggled a bit on her shoulder as easily as some prop. "What are you going to do with me?" she groaned dizzily, her round hips pointed out for the displeased crowd.
The answer was simple, "Whatever I wish..." as the two entered the backstage. Widow's long gate brought them to her dressing room quick enough. Widow entered with a flourish and lay her out on the cot in her room, "Tracer! See to the slut! My bath better be ready!"continued http://luffy316.blogspot.com/2016/11/overwatch-wrestling-4-symmetras.html
