Post by Deleted on Feb 24, 2023 5:52:35 GMT -5
Valentine’s Day.
It was the day after Sonya committed her heinous attack on Punisher. She’d nailed his lips shut with a nailgun and ensured the world wouldn’t be polluted via his seeds by piercing the half-inch of manhood that rested between his legs.
It felt exhilarating in the moment.
She should’ve felt great afterwards.
She didn’t. She’d compromised her entire belief system to lower herself to wrestling’s level, all for a sliver of revenge.
Worse, she may have pissed off Punisher even more, and THAT was scary. What’s that old saying? When seeking revenge, dig two graves?
“Sonya?”
Duncan Ryder, the GOAT and Final Boss Champion of Level Up, was waving his hand in front of her.
“Sorry. Come again?”
Ryder gestured to the waiter at Dorsia, the Marvelous Mike Mason of fine dining, who awaited her order.
“Bring everything. Full send.”
“Everything?” The waiter replied.
“EEEEEEEVERYTHIIIIIING!” She yelled at him. Duncan flinched back in his seat and looked around uncomfortably, mouthing apologies to the annoyed faces that turned towards the outburst.
He nodded and turned to Duncan, who fumbled the menu in hand, unsure.
“Uh, I’ll have anything she's having that doesn't have an animal in it."
The waiter's shoulders slumped and he left. Poor guy.
“Really, Duncan?” She chided. He shrugged.
“What? You sprung this on me at the 11th hour. That menu is in French I swear. No idea what any of it is.”
Sonya slow-blinked.
“Riiight. And why are you sitting over there? You’re my Valentine for this day.”
Benson patted the area next to her in the booth seat. Ryder cocked his head like a confused puppy. Trick? Test? Genuine? He obliged in typical awkwardness. Her peripherals caught the form of a tall, bulky man and she instinctively hitched her arm with Duncan’s, seeking refuge from Punisher whom she just knew was already coming to get her.
It wasn’t him.
“Duncan? This is the part where you drape your arm over me. I’m your Valentine for the moment.”
Again, awkward, he obliged. She relaxed. She felt safe from Big Pun. Safe from everything actually.
The food came. The wine too. More wine. And more wine. She abused the red beverage until Duncan was surprisingly able to talk her into stopping before she got drunk. Tipsy she was though.
For Duncan it sucked that it took her getting tipsy to be a reasonable human-like person instead of the despicable woman she is. He steered the discussion away from Punisher and wrestling and when the stay at Dorsia was over, Duncan felt the first instance of enjoyment around her in the six months he’d been her trainer.
Back at the estate, she escorted him to his room on the way to hers, and when he opened the door she sauntered in without invitation.
“I’ve never asked you how your lodging’s been.” She flopped her beguiling buttocks upon the edge of his bed and bounced some, kicking her Ugg fur booted feet playfully.
“Better than the assorted motel rooms I've been living in. Or the van,” he replied tiredly.
"Wow, thanks for the glowing review." Sonya surveyed the room and found it boring. Too much wrestling stuff.
“Do you not have a sportsball poster or something? Hey! What’s that?” Among the items she found was a poster of herself from West Coast Rumble.
“The night you won the title. I’m proud of you. Why not commemorate it?”
“Aww." She remarked in honeyed tone.
Another bout of awkwardness crept between them.
“Well, I’m tuckered.” Duncan announced and opened the door.
“Oh?” She lingered for a moment. “Ok??? Well, goodnight. Thanks for saving Valentine’s, hero.”
He nodded. “My pleasure and uh, you too."
She gestured for a hug as she passed, and he obliged with hesitance. He tensed when she unexpectedly gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek that left cherry red imprints in their wake.
And with that, she departed.
—--------
Friday, 2-24-23
Sonya fell across the mat completely spent. Every fiber in her body felt the desperation in her training, another session she’d requested extra hours for - an unheard of demand that’d caught Duncan off guard for nearly two weeks now.
“You’re becoming relentless,” Ryder said as he slumped into a corner, also spent from running her through another set of scenario based drills she might come across in her war against Punisher on Brawl.
“I have to be.” She squeaked back, laboriously sitting up. “I can’t let him win, Duncan. I’d give 25 wins and the title back to claim this one from him. After what he did-” She paused. Her tummy roiled as the memory of her degradation surfaced. Punisher hadn’t defeated her that night. He’d ruined her. From that night and until the end of time she would have to live with the memes and gifs of his simulated ravaging of her virtue and womanhood being spread among the media.
“He’s just…. So tall.. And powerful though.”
Duncan helped her up and aided her to the corner.
“True. He’s six-foot-four and you’re five-foot-six, but..” He tapped her temple. “Between the ears you’re ten feet tall.”
A pained laugh fled her.
“Duh, but that’s the thing. I’ve beaten people smarter, more skilled, faster, more decorated, people just better than him… and I was able to figure out a way to get to them… but with him it’s just different. He just doesn't feel anything physically, mentally, or emotionally. I literally shot his junk with a nail gun. That’s an injury nobody walks off, but he showed up on Twitter frothing at the chance to maul me. Nothing I do fazes him.”
“Oh it fazed him, Ms. B,” chimed Norris as he strutted past them and headed toward the film study room. “He won’t be 100% and I’m gonna dick-kick him every chance I get, and you’re gonna do the same when you see me pulling a distraction.”
Norris hadn’t bothered broaching the topic of using Sonya’s doppelganger, Regina, for the match. This was personal and he, just as much as Sonya, wanted THE Sonya Benson to strike down the monster.
“Is that really your gameplan?” Asked Duncan.
“Fuck yes. It’s all we got. We’re down a man. Dipshit Raven banned Smith from ringside.”
Duncan pinched the bridge of his nose. Norris had a point and Ryder couldn’t believe he was about to encourage it, but it truly was all she had if the winds shifted badly.
“Normally I wouldn't endorse that but after what he did, I think he deserves everything he has coming. Hell, you might as well go all out. Hide some brass knux and blinding powder in your attire too.”
“Maybe you could-”
“I’m not going to try to talk you out of it but I didn't say I'd participate. I'm your trainer, not your henchman.” He quickly clarified.
He expected a rebuttal but surprisingly she respected his wishes.
BUZZ!!!
The break between drills was over. Though drained, she began the next set with him, impressing the iconic champion with the added determination.