"Harder, damn it!" Bea commanded, a bit of bloody spittle being flung out of her mouth as she barked another order. "I said hit me har-" she tried to say as her words were cut off by a gray-toned fist meeting her face and sending the karate prodigy stumbling back from the weight of the blow.
Her prized Machamp winced as he saw his trainer forced to take a knee as the full brunt of the pain flowed through the petite Gym Leader, even more so since his punch was what caused the hurt to affect his trainer like this.
Machamp was certain that most other trainers weren't nearly as hands-on with their Pokemon as Bea was, much less this overtly violent, but the Galarian Fighting-type specialist assured her ace that she had learned such training regimes from their region's absolute best.
Such claims still did little to soothe the anxious four-armed behemoth as his trainer aimed a round-house kick towards his head, of which he effortlessly blocked and responded with by throwing her, hard, onto the matted floor of their dojo. Another wave of nervousness washing over him as his trainer didn't move for several moments from her position on the mat. The air he was holding in only being exhaled as Bea flipped herself over and onto her hands and knees as she struggled to stand.
The thick blue shock pad absorbed the brunt of the impact, but the same couldn't be said for Bea's ego as she propped herself up on all fours, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to realign her senses. She was frustrated at how easily she allowed herself to be countered and mon-handled like that. She was better than this. She knew she was! She would get up in a few seconds and show her Machamp that she deserved to be his trainer. That she was tough enough to mantle the burden her parents bestowed upon her when they left ownership of the dojo to their daughter.
Unfortunately, the previous damage dealt to her in their protection-less spar was beginning to take its toll on her body. Ugly, purple blemishes were already forming underneath her sweat-soaked workout attire. Dark violet evidence of her inability to protect herself properly against the many limbs of her Machamp. Dried crimson turned a murky brown stained her karate top as more fell out of a busted nose and swollen gums onto the growing wet mark resting upon her chest.
"I-is that all you... A-all you got, you big wimp?" Bea stammered in between gasps for air as she slowly rose to stand on wobbly legs. The determined look in her eyes was offset by the sorry state she was in. Weak-knee'd legs struggling to stay standing as her arms could barely bend into a proper battle stance without eliciting a pained grunt and teary eyes from the formerly cute karate master.
Machamp didn't want to continue battering his trainer's body. He was already well aware that his trainer was one of the toughest humans he had ever met, she didn't need to prove anything to him, not like this, not by being beaten into a bloody pulp by a mon with twice the amount of arms than her with triple the weight and height. The hell-bent gleam in her smoky orbs and the "bring-it-on" gesture of her hand goaded him into continuing his senseless assault against her body, however. Her pride would be forever damaged far more than her flesh if he let up the power behind his punches or the strength supporting his throws for even a moment. Bea would never accept half-hearted effort from herself, much less her Pokemon. With a heavy sigh, Machamp did what any good mon would do for their partner. He obeyed.
A blazing fast Sky Uppercut flew through the air and toward Bea's chin. Credit where it's due, she managed to barely dodge the blow by ducking down, where she responded with a quick sweep of the legs in an attempt to dislodge the sturdiness of her Machamp's stance. The difference in remaining stamina between the two was far too great, sadly, and the vigor of her kick aimed at Machamp's heels was pitiful. He stood his ground without buckling and the only reward for her gusto was a punt to the gut which pushed her away and onto her well-toned glutes.
Surprisingly, however, she recovered in what seemed like an instant as two lighting speed jabs hit Machamp square in the torso and muzzle nearly the moment she jumped up off of her butt. She had aimed a third blow, a particularly heavy-handed haymaker aimed at his belly, but the surprise of her quickness had worn off and he was ready for it by the time it came. With a side-step and begrudging resolve, he dodged it and grabbed her arm, rapidly positioning himself and her wayward limb behind her in a classic hold.
Bea struggled, as she always would against an opponent, but Machamp knew she wouldn't be able to escape his grip on her. His arm held her own limb staunch against her backside, while one of his free hands held her head and neck in a painless but absolute choke-hold. She wouldn't be getting out, and Machamp was happy to finally have a reason for her to admit submission and accept defeat. The slight angle her nose was in alongside the river of maroon still flowing from it steadily made him worried he had accidentally broken her nasal organ. He would need to administer aid soon to avoid any permanent damage to her precious snooze, something he'd forever feel guilty about it if it did.
Bea's ceaseless attempts at escape wouldn't stop, however. She continued to try and break out of her muscled bindings fruitlessly, a viciousness in her subdued movements and nastiness in her barks uncharacteristic of her even at most angry.
"LET ME GO!" she screamed. "I'm not done yet, I'm not losing this time!" she said bitterly. A crazed fury in her words and demanding defiance powering her actions as she did the only thing she thought she could do in her rage-fueled haze.
She bit down onto the hand holding her neck, and she bit down hard.
"ARUGH" bellowed the multi-appendaged monster more out of sheer surprise than genuine pain. In all their years of training, even when he was a tiny Machop, Bea had never once bitten him. A wave of confusion on how to react shook through him as Bea took the slackening of his grip on her to escape his clutches. She turned around, and with one vitriol fueled straight into Machamp's belly, his head instinctively bowed forward and down, still too shocked from the bite to react properly. With her only chance at victory laid out in front of her, she took it without hesitation.
She brought her leg as far up into the air as she could despite her soreness. So high that'd put even a Mienshao to shame in sheer flexibility, and then she brought it right back down as fast and as hard as she can, right onto the back of Machamp's skull to meet sky-blue training mat.
For what seemed like an eternity, no sound was made, save for the desperate, sharp intakes of air repeatedly filling the overworked confines of Bea's lungs. Almost twenty whole seconds had passed before a grin the size of a Wailord spread itself over Bea's face. A sparkling shine of pearly white contrasted by the bruised and bloody visage holding it.
"I-I did it!" Bea chortled out in joyous laughter. "I won! I beat you!" she giggled as any remaining weariness in her body was swiftly replaced with the recovering wind of rejuvenation that only sweet victory can bring. She stood there, basking in it, she had done it. She had beaten her strongest Pokemon in a one-on-one spar. Her parents would be so proud of her.
Machamp, on the other hand, was not defeated. He was upset. His trainer had broken one of the unspoken rules of a proper match by refusing to accept defeat, much less by pulling an illegal move such as using teeth in a competition of the hands and legs like all true martial arts are.
He was angry, and what feelings of mercy he had towards his trainer during their Kumite had evaporated. She needed to be reminded of the rules of karate, of respecting your opponent, and the purity of discipline. He needed to teach her now before the degrading poison of her "win" tainted her mind and corrupted the teachings that were passed down to her from her Master.
Bea didn't notice her Machamp rise up from behind her as she indulged in the smugness of having out-matched her mon. She did pay heed, however, to the hand grasping her shoulder and the massive fist burying itself deeply into her belly the moment she turned around.
She doubled over as her eyes nearly bulged out of her skull from the sheer strength behind the blow. A chunk of vomit mixed with clumps of blood fell out of her mouth as pain reverberated throughout her body. Not a single moment of respite was given to her as another gray-skinned mitt grabbed her head by the hair and cruelly yanked her upwards, just to have her skull be met with a third meat hook that bashed her mug into a mess of red pulp tinged against brown.
One more punch, then another, and another after that repeated the brutality of Machamp's demonstration in respect to his trainer. A pool of red had formed beneath Bea as her visage was made into mulch. She can hardly think as dull mixed with sharp pain took her in and out of unconsciousness, but if she hadn't passed out from the barrage of five-fingered slugs to her thinker, she surely fell into unconsented dreamland as her darling Machamp brought her chin upwards, and then swiftly downwards onto his knee. Humorously mimicking the final move that had given her "victory" minutes before.
Machamp grimly picked up Bea's by her hair once more to get a good look at what was left of her face. A bungled assortment of dried and fresh blood swished in alongside spittle, vomit, snot, and salty tears. He moved a single finger in front of her eyes to see if she would track the movements, but her peepers simply looked on blankly and unthinkingly. She had passed out, small mercy among the flurry of pain she had just received.
With another heavy sigh, Machamp picked up his trainer and carried her bridal style into the small infirmary of their dojo. There he took the time the bandage, clean, and nurse her wounds to the best of his abilities. He gave her medicine and healing balms strong enough to ensure the concussion she almost certainly had wouldn't damage her permanently, but he deliberately withheld the strong anti-pain medication and hid it away.
She needed to learn her lesson and having the worst of the punishment made moot by medicinal salves and soothing would mean he'd just have to teach her it once again later on, and he'd hate to have to do that. He was a good mon to his trainer, after all.