Post by hawkeye on May 11, 2020 0:41:10 GMT
Standing before the curtains, Sammie had long come to learn that her pre-match nerves would never leave her, regardless of what she had overcome. Perfectly petite, the young Brit closed her eyes as she thought on all the well wishes she had been showered with on her route to this latest threshold. She was blessed with friends aplenty, and from that she drew strength, their faith in her battling the fears that, even now, years after the accident, threatened to undo her.
She inhaled deeply, holding it as she opened her eyes, lightly drumming the tips of her fingers atop the EuroAsia Title strapped snugly about her waist, ten pounds of gold and leather meaning the world to her as she carried it with pride. Samantha could hear the crowd waiting for her just on the opposite side of the curtain and, as she exhaled slowly, she felt her moment coming, the Announcer calling for her arrival.
One heartbeat.
Two…
…and she stepped out into the arena, the bright lights above exploding into new life as…
FEEL INVINCIBLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gco_SAvHVSM
…erupted from the loud speakers, the FAWNatics officially losing their collective sh*t upon the arrival of the People’s Princess. She smiled, bright and true, throwing up her arms into the air as she felt heady from the experience, FAWN’s Favourite Girl Next Door standing in at five foot four and one hundred ten pounds of instant heartbreak.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
As caught up in the moment as her supporters, Sammie wiggled her fingers up on high before bringing her hands together, the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance following her example as they collectively clapped…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…before she pointed dramatically towards the squared circle, pyrokinetics exploding to either side of her to add an exclamation point to her declaration!!
With the crowd now suitably in full voice, the Upstart Supreme shot off down the ramp at a spirited pace, darting left and right at irregular intervals, intuition guiding her to those in most need of a little love, delivering short hugs to make their evenings.
Soon enough, the squared circle was a mere few yards before her, and the EurAsia Champion accelerated at a sprint, leaping the final distance and springing her lithe physique up onto the apron. Riding the momentum, she grasped the top ropes and cleanly vaulted over the uppermost coil, landing lightly before she marched to centre ring.
Having reached her destination, she exhaled deeply, elated and beaming as she bit down on her bottom lip, saluting the FAWNatics one last time before unbuckling her Title. Somewhat begrudgingly, she handed it to the Official and, as he held it high for the whole crowd to witness, she resolved to claim it back before the night was over.
Keeping herself limber, and after surrendering to a brief pat down, the EurAsia Champion respectfully retreated to one corner, waiting for her latest Challenger.
She did not have to wait long, not when…
BAD THINGS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA
…emerged from the loud speakers, and a curvy brunette emerged from behind the curtains when she was good and ready, strolling out into view and coming to a full stop at centre stage. In one hand, Lady Lydia Lethbridge brandished an elegantly crafted, gleaming, ebony cane, one tipped with a beautifully sculptured, silver forged wolfs head, glowering as though it had picked up the scent of blood. She planted it in the ground before her, clasping it imperiously with both palms, tipping up her chin just so as she looked to the left with faint disregard, before offering the right the very same disdain, her dark, covetous eyes ultimately coming to a rest on the ring before her.
LADY LYDIA LETHBRIDGE
Standing in at five foot two and one hundred seventeen pounds, she flashed a grin of ill intent, one that displayed far too many teeth to be friendly, before setting off down the ramp at a stately pace. As she sauntered towards the squared circle, she thrust the head of her cane in the direction of those in the crowd that especially displeased her. There was no shortage of candidates, the FAWNatics not shy in showering her with scorn, and she marked each and every one to be added to her ledger, one that already dripped with blood.
Shortly after her arrival, a second member of the Commonwealth made her presence known, albeit to considerably less fanfare, one Cleona Flynn striding out onto the ramp in her Ladyship’s wake without even a hint of introduction. She didn’t need any, the Scottish Sociopath making her statement back at March to War, flattening Samantha Sinclair in a smattering of seconds, and leaving her unconscious on the canvas.
CLEONA FLYNN
Standing in at five foot six and one hundred fifty-two pounds, the redhead could not go unnoticed, even without the spotlight following her progress down the aisle, the ‘hired help’ of her Ladyship keeping a respectful distance from her employer until Lethbridge reached the steel steps. She put on the gas for her last few strides, climbing up onto the apron and, once there, sat down on the middle rope whilst lifting the top, allowing The Penthouse Belle to duck into the confines of the squared circle with all of the pomp that was her due.
Cleona followed her inside, receiving barely an acknowledgment for her troubles, finding the nearest corner and setting up camp, the eyes of the enforcer for Sammie only.
Lydia, not missing a stride, arrived at the centre of the canvas and turned regally on the spot, planting her cane with authority before her and lightly drumming the tip of one finger against the snout of the wolfs head. Noggin lowered just slightly, Lethbridge bore the biggest of dark eyes right down the lens of the hard camera, her lips spreading into a smile that prominently displayed her sharpest teeth.
Finally, she was the mistress of her own tale, as it should have been from the start and, as everyone would soon learn, no-one kept from Lethbridge what was her due. Satisfied for the time being that she had made a statement, she turned her attention to Sinclair, her manner coy and yet far from friendly.
Sammie, to her regret, had not taken her eyes off Cleona.
“So fretful,” Lethbridge teased, playing with her morsel. “Why so concerned?” Lydia cooed waving a perfectly poised hand vaguely in the direction of her hired muscle. “Ms. Flynn here is merely my associate, her presence a matter of morale support.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Sammie nodded, exhaling slowly, remembering all too well the sheer power that struggled to be contained with the physique of Cleona Flynn, the Scottish Sociopath a force of nature on the only occasion that she had met her. Sinclair tried her best to not look nervous, but it took longer than she hoped to strengthen her resolve, the miniature brunette nodding to herself before turning her attention to Lethbridge.”
Her next words caught Lydia flat footed, “To be honest, I’m a little relieved. I might have had a similar idea myself, and I would hate to think that I wasted her time.”
Lethbridge, mildly irritated by the intrigue, perked her brow in question but, before she could vocalise it…
MADE FOR THIS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIwbSq-bomk
…burst into life over the loud speakers and, unexpectantly, the stage was bathed in renewed illumination, the Supergirl of Sheffield, Summer Hopkins, standing at its centre.
SUMMER HOPKINS
Remembering all of her coaching, Summer popped into a jaunty, little bicep flex with one of her long stems crossed ever so slightly in front of the other, capturing everyone’s attention, including that of the Gladiatrix photographers.
While she didn’t quite possess the sheer, domineering presence of her elder sibling, Cassie, Baby Hopkins was physically sublime non the less, every inch of her a sleek and athletic in all the right places as her form fitting attire hugged her like a jealous lover, five foot seven and one hundred and twenty-eight pounds of instant heartbreak.
Faced with the crowds overwhelming response, she heroically fought down the desire to blush, the masses serenading her with cheers as they were extremely pleased to see her. Emboldened by their support, the wallflower turned starlet pivoted into a spiral with her arms outstretched, the walls of her childhood insecurities toppled by the positive reinforcement. Summer was living a dream, and she was giddy with embarrassment, bringing her hands back together in the shape of a heart, one that mirrored the cut-out silhouette in her sapphire top.
She set off down the ramp, spotlight accompanying her the entire way, eating up the distance with long strides in no time at all. As the British Bombshell 2.0, her blonde curls bounced atop her shoulders, and as the ring swiftly approached, she arrived at it without hesitation, diverting to Sammie’s corner at a sudden dash.
As she reached the apron she jumped, deftly making the distance with both of her long legs before sweeping them up and over the top rope, lifting one lithe stem up and over the uppermost coil before following up with the other, deliberately offering the nearest camera a cheeky shot of her firm buttocks in the process, no doubt done so at the behest of her sponsor, especially with the words ‘YOU WISH!!’ stencilled across the young women’s firm, crimson clad cheeks in white, girlish script.
Arriving at Sinclair’s side, she popped into a second, jaunty bicep flex for the FAWNatics continued appreciation, Summer feeling heady from the experience.
Her unexpected arrival tonight was crowned by a growing chant that rippled through the crowd, one that had been cemented at March to War, and was currently being encouraged by the brunette who had invited her.
“MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!!”
Sensing a threat to her Ladyship with this counter to her own presence, Cleona shoved out from the corner, joining Lethbridge as centre ring and cracking her knuckles. The representatives of the Upstart Nation responded to her overt show of aggression in kind, both Sammie and Summer holding their ground before advancing forwards.
For a brief moment, it seemed as though all pretences of civility were about to be cast aside, before the Official dived into the shrinking space between the four young women, displaying either a great deal of courage, or a distinct lack of intelligence.
“Hold it!” he demanded, the FAWNatics watching on with considerable interest, waiting with baited breath for this particular powder keg to explode. “This is a one on one contest!” the man in black and white reclarified, refusing to budge on that notion. “Your associates can stay, but they do so outside the ring, understood?”
There was a pregnant pause when no-one answered.
To the man in black and white’s relief, it passed.
The People’s Princess nodded, perpetually pleasant to the Official as always, Sammie motioning her thanks to Hopkins at her side, wordlessly letting her know that it was ok for her hold fire outside the squared circle. Summer nodded back, keeping her baby blues on Flynn as she moved to exit the ring, the Supergirl of Sheffield resolved to only get involved if she was needed.
Lethbridge gave no verbal confirmation, dismissing Ms. Flynn with an irritable wave of one hand, handing off her cane for safe keeping as she did so.
Soon enough, only Samantha and Lydia remained on the canvas, which the Official was far happier about, wasting no further time as he called for the bell to begin the contest.
Lydia, refusing to betray any slip in her composure, grinned wolfishly in her fellow Brits direction, darting a glance in the direction of Summers, “Paranoid, my dear?”
“Maybe a little,” Sammie conceded, ducking low as the two lithe, young athletes circled slowly, shooting a wary glance of her own in the direction of Flynn. “Given what big teeth you have.”
“You have no idea,” Lydia grinned all the more, the two, perfectly petite Brits surging forwards by unspoken command and locking up in a fierce Collar and Elbow tie up. For several long moments, the Champion and Challenger writhed for superior leverage, grunting and flexing, their eyes now only for each other.
Sammie felt her heart flutter as, barely an inch, she buckled first, and Lethbridge was swift to seize advantage, bellowing out in victory as she twisted and turned, spinning out of the embrace with one of her foe’s wrists captured. Twisting that arm like a wringer, Lydia forced Sinclair to fold forwards, the EurAsia Champion grasping at her own shoulder as the joint flared up in misery, protesting the sharp rotation.
Steeling her resolve, Sammie dived forwards into a neat little roll, one that returned her captured limb to its proper alignment and sprung her back up to standing. As quick on her feet as any other Lightweight, the miniature brunette transitioned her grip to grasp the wrist of her opponent, catching Lethbridge flatfooted and tucking up behind her, expertly contorting the Princess of Privilege into a Chickenwing.
Lydia grunted, not at all approving, the grimace on her features disguised by a snarl as she inhaled deeply, her bountiful bosom hiking before she demonstrated her own willingness to ride a wave of pain if it meant escaping her predicament. With an uncomfortable twist and pivot of her own, she was able to nimbly rotate out of the hold and, as both brunettes looked to counter each other’s footing, it was Lethbridge who would regain the upper hand, circling around Sammie’s back and snapping on a STIFF Sleeper!!
While the young Brit briefly stiffened in the sapping embrace, the People’s Princess began slackening almost immediately, unsteady on her feet as Lydia reefed back on her hold. Reaching up to the bicep that restricted her airways, Sinclair tugged on that limb as she was pulled this way and that with sharp jerks away from the safety of any ring ropes, pretty peepers fluttering as her heart skipped a panicked beat. An especially severe twist on the hold dropped Sammie down to one knee, the FAWNatics despairing as her lustre faded by the moment and, as one of her arms began to sway idly at her thigh, a shimmy in Sinclair’s swaying posture betrayed her desire to collapse.
Lydia bore down on her hold all the harder, grinning with wolfish delight as she scented a swift victory, her heart beating heavily as she pressed down on her opponent’s shoulders, feeling the other girls will crumbling as it was overwhelmed by the weight of Lethbridge’s ambition.
The Legionnaire’s in attendance, unwilling to surrender, and spurred on by the Summer Hopkins at ringside, followed the example of the Supergirl of Sheffield by bringing their hands together. All too quickly, a rapid, three beat rhythm built up in pace, soon filling the rafters with their percussion. The Upstart Nation’s anthem for war.
Scrunching her button nose, Sammie defiantly stayed on one knee, refusing to slump further even as her lips parted slightly, her cheeks reddening as her eyelids felt heavy. Lydia twisted her hold once more, and Sinclair released a pained erk, but instead of toppling, the brunette slooooooowly pushed her way back up towards standing…
…with a snarl of frustration, Lethbridge let go of the Sleeper and, even as Sammie inhaled a deep, relieved breath, Lydia transitioned her grip to two claw holds of the other Brit’s hair. She savagely YANKED backwards, forcing a pained yelp from the Upstart Supreme as the Penthouse Belle dropped down to one knee, CRACKING the small of her opponent’s back across a posted thigh.
HAIR PULLED BACKBREAKER: @ 0:04
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kp1ONO6OOGA
Sammie spasmed with a low groan, petite body folding the wrong way as her arms popped out at her sides, her thighs all a shimmy as Lethbridge dragged her back up to vertical, still retaining a grip on the girl’s mane.
“Watch the hair,” the Official warned, beginning his count without delivering any further. “ONE! TWO!!”
With delicious glee, Lydia patently ignored him with the self-assurance of someone who probably knew the rules better than he did, turning on the spot and viciously YANKING on her opponent’s curls violently enough to rip the young woman from off her feet. With a heart-breaking cry, Sammie sailed through the air before coming back down with a crash, rolling with the landing and cradling her head.
Dusting off her hands, Lydia sauntered on over to Sinclair, the Princess of Privilege evidently in no hurry, even as the EurAsia Champion was finding her knees. Again, Lethbridge snatched her by the hair, pulling on those curls in vindictive fashion, warming to her subject as she tugged SHARPLY on her prize.
“Lydia!” the Official warned again, his tone stern.
“Or what?” Lethbridge turned the entirety of her gaze to the man in black and white, her eyes sultry and grin wicked. When he hesitated, she yanked on Sammie’s hair even harder, Lydia dragging the girls pained features closer to the aristocrat’s sex. “No, no, please do go on. Explain to me the consequences of my actions. Will you intervene in any meaningful capacity, or can you do little more than scream protests? Counting, peon, is all that you are here for, so be a good lamb before I consider adding you to my dinner.”
The Official, dumbfounded, had no immediate retort…
…Sammie, however, was anything but, Babyfaced Dander rising as she suddenly surged up onto her feet, Sinclair pulling free from her bullying hold and RAMMED a sweet, little knee lift right up into the Challengers tummy. With a great guff of air, Lydia folded forwards, big brown eyes wide as she both wheezed and stuttered.
Sinclair, freckled cheeks all aglow, stepped back a half pace before, displaying wonderful flexibility, she whipped her right stem skywards until she pressed it almost vertical against her body. With a (adorable) war cry, she swung it back down, CRACKING Lethbridge across the back of her exposed shoulders with a beautiful axe kick!!
With a grunt, Lydia dropped down to her knees, this time expressing pain as she exposed her teeth to the hard camera.
Sammie didn’t stick around to observe her handiwork, instead setting off at a sprint that took her to the opposite set of ring ropes. She leapt into the rubber coated steel, support from the FAWNatics following her as the coils embraced her, snapping taunt as they sprung her back across the canvas. At considerable speed, she returned to Lethbridge, the curvy brunette popped back up to one knee which, as Sinclair hopped into the air, left her wide open to receive a flying knee right to her jaw!!
GOLDEN WIZARD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4GgKThHoZAA
The CRACK!! was audible to those sitting several rows back and, almost immediately after Lydia’s noggin was sent snapping backwards, the rest of body soon followed, her Ladyship slumping to the mat in a heap.
Sammie wasted not a second, throwing herself atop her for…
ONE!
T…
Even with her head scrambled, Lethbridge threw up her shoulder, denying Sinclair her victory at this juncture. Undaunted, Sammie got right back down to business, the People’s Princess tucking her palms beneath her groggy foes shoulders and tugging her back up to standing. Once vertical, she took possession of one of Lydia’s wrists…
…only for the Penthouse Belle to resort to her default setting, reaching out with her free hand and RAKING her fingers down across Sammie’s peepers!! With a surprised cry, Sinclair turned away, palming her baby brown’s as they watered defensively, blinded and completely at a loss as to her surroundings.
The FAWNatics called fowl, but the Official saw nothing, Lethbridge taking full advantage of everyone else’s inability to do anything. Capturing her foes arm, she TWISTED it out into its full extension, rotating Sammie’s shoulder painfully before, with expert repositioning, she folded the same limb in tight against the other brunettes back, completing the Hammerlock.
Sinclair, even blinded as she was, was more than aware that she was in danger and attempted to retaliate, swinging her left arm behind her in hopes of connecting with her elbow. Unfortunately, all she accomplished was assisting Lydia no end, the curvy Brit neatly ducking below the swinging limb and tucking it behind her shoulders. With Sammie all nicely wrapped, Lethbridge extended her own free arm, pivoted her hips before whipping herself around, damn near beheading the Upstart Supreme with a wicked Lariat.
HAMMERLOCK LARIAT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVmoJTPiFAo
With a pained grunt, Sinclair was sent tumbling backwards to the canvas, landing hard on her shoulders as her stems kicked up into the air. The moment Sammie settled in a heap, Lydia rolled her over onto her front, taking full advantage of her the other girls rattled state and throwing herself across her back. No sooner had she settled, Lethbridge wrapped her arm around Sinclair’s throat for a second Sleeper, this time riding her rival flat against the canvas, attempting to choke her whilst her pelvis thrust down against Sammie’s taunt buttocks.
Sinclair stiffened visibly as she erked out a protest, her lithe body shivering as her lips popped slightly open, her eyes fluttering to half lidded as she struggled to inhale. As the tips of her boots scrapped across the canvas, Lydia bore down atop of her even more, wrenching the Sleeper with short jerks, encouraging a wince with each one, before she leaned over, grinning in wolfish delight as she bit down on her foe’s ear.
“Why must you struggle?” the Princess of Privilege whispered between nips, grinding her hips as she forced fresh moans from the ensnared Sammie. “We both know you’re my dinner.”
Sinclair, freckled cheeks growing redder by the moment, shook her head as much as she was able before, with considerable will, she braced one of her elbows down against the canvas, before following up with the second. With a great deal of effort, she slooooooowly pushed her upper body up into an arch and, with even more determination, she began to draaaaaaaag herself across the mat.
Summer was there at ringside, and while Sammie couldn’t quite see her, she could hear her well enough, inching both herself and her rider across the canvas one painful stretch at a time. Fuelled by the unbridled encouragement from her close friend, Sinclair refused to give up, even as she began fading even more swiftly, reaching out with her hand for ropes she hoped desperately were there…
…and she GRABBED the bottom coil just before she could pass out, the EurAsia Champion clinging onto to it as though doing so would stop her from drowning. The FAWNatics were elated, Lethbridge was somewhat less so.
To the surprise of many, Lydia dismounted her straddle before the Official could even begin insisting that she break, the Challenger never the less palming the back of the Champions noggin and SCRUBBING her freckled cheek viciously across the canvas before parting. Fuming, Lethbridge paced away, tugging on the rim of her gloves to tighten them about her claws. She had barely left the scene of her last crime before she almost immediately returned to it, the Official’s attention wavering to Sammie as Lydia stalked back in.
Before he could catch the sudden movement, Lethbridge had already reached down and snagged both of Sinclair’s pliant ankles, lifting her athletic stems into the air, and then YANKED the other young woman right off the canvas and up into the air. Ripped from the ropes, Sammie came back to earth all too quickly, landing with a harsh bump which left her feeling even more disoriented that before.
The FAWNatics derided the lack of sportsmanship, and the man in black and white was evidently keen to verbalise their displeasure in a more official manner. “Lydia!”
“That is Your Ladyship[/u]!” she snapped back at him; her patience having worn thin. “And she is out of the ring ropes, so find some other matter to fret over, I have business to conclude!”
Dismissing the man’s presence, she returned to stalking Sinclair, zeroing in on the People’s Princess and, with the girl rolled up to sitting, she viciously STAMPED down hard on the young woman’s fingers!!
Sammie yelped, not even trying to contain her cry, cradling her wounded paw to her torso as the crowd winced in sympathy. If she had still been groggy before, that sharp sting cut through the fog, Sinclair biting her bottom lip as she rolled up to her knees, her abused hand still shaking as she held it close.
Lydia, lacking much by way of mercy, snatched her by the hair and began yanking Sammie up to standing, sensing weakness to be exploited…
…a narrative which Sinclair possessed zeroed desire to continue being a part of, steeling her resolve as she powered up to standing, catching Lethbridge off guard as she cupped both of her palms behind her foes head. A moment later, the Upstart Supreme popped up into the air, tucked her athletic stems in tight to her body, and dropped backwards with a great deal of momentum. Her Ladyship was forced to fold forwards with her and, before anyone could react, as the canvas provided a sudden stop to their momentum, Sammie’s knees were RAMMED right up into Lydia’s chin with considerable force!!
SAMMIE SURPRISE!!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqPyYY8v0_c
Taking the full force of the hit, Lethbridge sprung back up to vertical, her arms spinning in a windmill and as she stumbled on her feet. For several steps, her dark eyes looking distinctly blurry, it looked as though she would tumble over but, somehow, she retained her boot leather, shaking her head as the world spun around her.
In contrast, Sammie inhaled a deep breath before LAUNCHING her way by up to vertical by way of FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up, the crowd delighted by the display of athletic prowess before she bounded into a fresh sprint. Riding the wave of Babyfaced Momentum, Sinclair zeroed in on her opponent and, as a woozy Lydia attempted to counter with a hasty clothesline, Sammie ducked beneath it with seeming ease, hooking the limb on the way past before fluidly flipping her own petite mass up, around and over Lethbridge’s shoulders. Completing her trip back down to the canvas before the thoroughly confused Lydia knew what was happening, Sinclair caught her in a front headlock, threw herself backwards, and PLANTED the Penthouse Belle with a Floatover DDT!!
FLOATOVER DDT!!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_alIKpkpIFA
With the crown of her head spiked into the canvas, Lydia entire physique turned rigid for a heartbeat before she slumped onto on the mat, curvy buttock twitching as she was rolled over onto her back. Sammie threw herself atop of her Challenger, collecting one of the girls stems for…
ONE!
TWO!!
Lethbridge threw up a shoulder, refusing to stay down, rolling with the momentum of her escape as she attempted to create distance.
Sammie pursued, determined to maintain pressure, and all too quickly the two young women were tangling once more, up onto their knees and grappling for advantage. For a moment, Sinclair appeared to have the upper hand, securing greater leverage before Lydia grabbed her by the hair, YANKING her head back sharply and felicitating a pained cry from her fellow Brit.
Encouraged by the discomfort of the EurAsia Champion, the Princess of Privilege followed up with a swift rabbit punch to her rivals curled throat, forcing a startled Sammie to both choke and slump visibly. As grossly illegal as the strike had been, Lydia took full advantage of the infraction none the less, grinning wolfishly as she pushed up to her feet and, with Sinclair reeling, forcibly shoved the other young women’s noggin in tight between her thighs.
Lethbridge SQUEEZED her curvy stems together with vindictive force to both make her point and to force a shocked groan to escape from Sammie, the slim brunette’s temples protesting as she could feel her head being crushed, the rest of her body shivering from the pressure. Wrapping her arms about Sinclair’s midriff, Lydia prepared to bully her up to boot leather, folded forwards and at her lack of mercy.
Sammie, however, was evidently done with playing damsel, the People’s Princess wrapping her own arms about the back of her opponent’s constricting stems and, with both a yank and quick reverse, caught a suddenly wide-eyed Lethbridge off guard and swept her off her feet! Lydia toppled backwards to the canvas, landing with a grunt and a sharp cry of protest whilst Sammie stood tall before her, freckled cheeks flushed crimson now that she was free.
Retaining her grip of her adversary’s powerful stems, Sinclair rolled Lethbridge over onto her front and, before Lydia could recover, Sammie turned herself back to front and squatting, tucking her fellow Brits ankles beneath her shoulders as she did so, locking in a perfect Boston Crab!!
BOSTON CRAB: @0:15
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7p89PSfeWZ4
Perhaps appropriately, Lethbridge HOWLED in protest, her back forcibly curled to it’s limit as the rest of her body shivered, muscles twitching as the base of her spine cramped. As Sammie sat back a little further, Lydia cried out anew, Her Ladyship shaking her head almost violently in denial as the FAWNatics demanded that she surrender.
She defied them, refusing to concede to Sinclair, the miniature Brit planting her elbow down hand against the canvas as she began to drag herself across the mat. Inch by painful inch, Lydia made slow progress, desperate to reach the closest set of ring topes before her resolve could give out. With an especially frantic cry, she stretched out for the bottom coil, straining to grasp the rubber coated steel…
…only to realise, to the despair of the Penthouse Belle, that the bottom rope was still an inch or so out of reach.
The FAWNatics began clapping, willing her to capitulate, Lydia’s fingers trembling as her dark eyes began tearing…
…and Cleona, at ringside, surged forwards. Grasping the bottom rope herself, the Scottish Sociopath shoved the rubber coated steel forwards and within reach of Lethbridge, Lydia SNATCHING a hold of it as though her life depended on it.
The FAWNatics called fowl, the Official delivered a reprimand, but could not deny that the Penthouse Belle was indeed now in the ropes. He turned to deliver the bad news to Sammie, but the Upstart Supreme had already released her hold, nodding in understanding even in the face of disappointment.
“It’s fine,” Sinclair insisted with gracious nod, holding up her hands to confirm that there would be no protest. “Just do me a favour, and remind Flynn to not get involved.”
With the Official moving off to do precisely that, Sammie inhaled deeply before stepping backwards, remaining laser focused on her objective as she exhaled and crouched lower, ready and limber to explode into action. With nerves aplenty, and the FAWNatics waiting with baited breath, she shook her pert, little booty as she prepped to pounce, a pained Lethbridge dragging herself slowly back up to vertical.
Just as the Princess of Privilege returned to stable footing, the EurAsia Championed darted forwards, bracing herself at the last pace and, like a bolt of lightning, she unleashed her athletic right stem up and out in a beautiful Sammie Kick…
…which Lydia, perhaps sensing danger, threw herself to the canvas to avoid danger…
…the Official, however, much to the horror of everyone involved except Lethbridge, turned around from his scolding of Cleona at ringside, and ATE the entirety of Sammie’s boot leather instead!!
The man in black and white hit the canvas hard and Sinclair, Babyface to her core, was filled with immediate remorse, covering her mouth even as the arena was being filled with the CRACK!! of her unintentional blow. As he crumbled into a heap, Sammie was by his side, immediately checking on his well being and offering her apologies, distraught with what she had done.
As well meaning as she was being, the People pleaded with Sinclair to keep her to stay focused, Lydia already crouched low on her blindside and grinning with far too many teeth, fully prepared to both pounce and devour their Princess.
Darting her eyes in Flynn’s direction, her hired help read Lethbridge’s intentions as clear as day, tossing the ebony cane entrusted into her possession into the ring for Lydia to snatch out of the air. As Sammie turned about, the FAWNatics cried out a warning, but it was all far too late as Her Ladyship sprung her trap, charging forwards and WHACKING the sleekly sculptured, silver wolfs head into her fellow Brits unsuspecting temple.
Boneless, Sammie slumped to the canvas, the Upstart Supreme not even twitching as she lay crumpled in a heap, pretty peepers well and truly closed as she breathed fitfully. Imperiously, Lethbridge stood over her toppled foe, her heart beating franticly in the face of impending victory, and all of the fantasies she was now free to fulfil upon Sinclair.
The FAWNatics protested, damn near deafening in their efforts to be heard, but the Official remained unresponsive on the groaned as he showed no signs of waking. The tone of the arena changed swiftly however, those cries transforming into cheers as, having apparently seen enough cheating, the Supergirl of Sheffield, Summer Hopkins, abandoned her post outside the squared circle and dived to her friend’s defence.
Cleona Flynn responded to this invasion, moving immediately to intercept the threat to Her Ladyship, diving into the squared circle also. All too quickly, the two hardbodies met at centre ring, those watching whooping with delight as Lydia, smaller than the duo, ducked for cover in slightly less than regale fashion.
With a collision of strong bodies, both Summer and Cleona writhed for advantage and, as Flynn seemed set on overpowering the British Bombshell, the beloved blonde instead managed to slip out of her foes grasp and circle around to her blindside. Circling her arms about the redhead’s solid midriff, the five-foot seven babe braced herself and, with a burst of effort, POWERED Flynn up and over, ripping her off her feet before DRIVING her back down into the deck across her neck and shoulders!!
German Suplex
www.youtube.com/watch?v=onoVfL1Bf4s
Given the circumstances, attempting a pinfall wasn’t worth a single, solitary damn, so Summer released her aggressor, allowing Cleona to fold sideways to the mat with a pained grunt.
With her mind only on Sinclair, Summer was back up on her feet on her flash, scanning the canvas for Sammie’s position. Flynn however, was far from done, rolling with her rough landing and finding her own boot leather just as quickly as her brightly coloured counterpart. The two charged again and, at centre ring, Summer showed no signs of backing down, instead collecting Cleona up in a tight hug and, with another impressive display, powered Flynn back off her feet with a Belly to Belly Suplex!!
Belly to Belly Suplex
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0M-y4zt1uWM
Releasing her unwilling cargo mid-flight, Summer left the Scot to her fate, the redhead hitting the canvas hard and sent bouncing across the mat, cursing as much as she grunted in pain.
The FAWNatics ate it up, loving this turn of events, filling the arena with cheers as the Supergirl of Sheffield remained on the front foot. Back up to vertical in an instant, Summer crouch herself low and ready, fully prepared to keep Cleona on her heels and to continue dominating the ring…
…until Lydia interjected, turning the tables as she struck with predatory intent, weaponizing her cane for a second time and SLAMMING its wolf headed tip into the small of the British Bombshell’s spine! Summer yelped, sharp and heart breaking, her stems losing their fibre as she dropped down to one knee, pretty peepers closing as she cradled her throbbing back.
Cleona, sensing weakness, was on her in an instant, the Scottish Sociopath seizing her blonde counterpart long before she could recover and, with impressive might, muscled all one hundred twenty-eight beautiful pounds of her up and over onto her shoulders. Having bullied Baby Hopkins into the Argentine Backbreaker, Flynn inflicted further control over her newly minted rival by reefing back on the hold, carrying Summer high above the ring and, whilst pulling down on both the trapped girls firm thigh and on her cool neck, she viciously bent the young woman’s already wounded back into an increasingly painful curve.
Utterly dominant, Cleona paraded the submissive Supergirl of Sheffield high above the ring, pausing before the Hard Camera to immortalise the moment. Statement made, Flynn suddenly hurled herself backwards, PLANTING Summer into the deck with a brutal Celtic Drop!!
CELTIC DROP: @0:15 Onwards
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xG3K3agXbG4
Hopkins resulting groan was as hollow as it was loud, the young woman rolling over onto her front as she struggled to inhale, the muscles in her back spasming and the same time her winded gut quivered. Heroically, Summer tried to get up, but even the Supergirl of Sheffield required time to recover after such merciless abuse.
Her Ladyship had no intention of providing, Lydia having resumed command of the ring, ebony cane planted on the canvas before her and manner imperious. “Remove her,” Lethbridge commanded, her grin betraying nothing but delighted malice. “Make an example of her.”
Cleona complied, grabbing Summer by both the belt of her shorts and her proud mane even as the young woman was finding her hands and knees. Bracing herself, Flynn inhaled a deep breath before dragging Hopkins to her feet, and then unceremoniously tossing her back out of the ring. Unable to resist, Summer tumbled out of control, shoved out through the ropes, bouncing off the apron with a crack, before DROPPING to the cold concrete outside the squared circle with a thump.
With Lethbridge watching on, Cleona was relentless in her pursuit, ducking between the top and middle ropes, Flynn dropping down to the concrete in a far more controlled manner. To her mild surprise, Summer had already made some progress from her crash landing, pulling herself across the harsh surface and, stubbornly, was using the Announcer Table to slowly pull herself back up to vertical.
Tilting her head slightly, Flynn watched her foes progress with detached interest, before grabbing the back of the blonde’s noggin and SLAMMING her face first into the rigid desk!!
Summer bucked hard before slumping into a stunned heap, folded forwards over the table and barely moving, her baby blues half lidded as her buttocks twitched. Peeling the wreckage of the British Bombshell off the Announcers Table, the Scottish Sociopath muscled her foes suddenly flaccid, submissive frame back up over her shoulders, powering her into place as though she weighed nothing, taking possession of Sammie’s chosen champion as though she intended to keep the young woman for herself.
No-one seemed to be in a position to say otherwise.
Lady Lydia Lethbridge, still safely tucked away within the confines of the squared circle, could not have looked more pleased as she observed her hired helps handiwork. Her manner was coy and her grin feral, all obstacles now removed, her Ladyship free to do whatever pleased her. With cane still in hand, she…
…ATE the entirety of a Sammie Kick as she turned about, Summer having bought Sinclair enough time to recover with her sacrifice!! A loud, triumphant CRACK!! filled the arena as the underside of her boot connected squarely with Lydia’s chin and the Penthouse Belle, knocked senseless by the strike, toppled backwards like a felled oak.
Sammie followed soon after, still weak in the knees as she scrambled over the stunned Lethbridge, hooking one of her fellow Brit’s nerveless limbs and rolling her up into a tight pin.
For several long moments, the FAWNatics watching panicked as they remembered the Official being in no fit state himself, but much to their relief, he had come to enough to drag himself over and being counting.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
The bell rang, confirming that the swift turn around had proved successful, the Announcer declaring that Samantha Sinclair was still the EurAsia Champion!!
The FAWNatics erupted in the positive, and Sammie exhaled deeply, acutely aware that there was a portion of this match that she would never remember. Her temple throbbed where she had been struck by the cane and, with a wince and long groan, the miniature brunette managed to pull herself back up to sitting. With assistance from the Official, she was just about able to find boot leather and she gratefully accepted the return of her gold-plated Title.
She was just about to apologise for kicking him in the face, when the mood in the arena shifted, becoming considerably more tense as, with a grunt of effort, Cleona Flynn deposited her human cargo back into the ring with an impressive toss. Summer’s athletic frame landed with a bump and rolled over onto her back before coming a stop, Hopkins settling in a spread-eagled star fish as Cleona followed her in.
Utterly ignoring everyone else, Flynn climbed into the squared circle, following the remains of her victim and Sammie’s friend, towering over the stunned Summer and, with silent intent, stepped on the girl’s throat. She applied only a little pressure, just enough to illicit a mournful moan to escape from Hopkin’s pert bosom.
She had the entirety of Sinclair’s attention and, as the People’s Princess, filled with Babyfaced Dander, moved to surge forwards, Cleona applied just a little more pressure. Sammie was stopped in her tracks, Summer wincing as her whole body twitched, a short spasm that exemplified her mounting danger.
Flynn, however, remained calm, tilting her head before looking up at Sammie, the powerhouse waving vaguely in the direction of the brunettes EurAsia Gold, her tone dangerously low and even. “Mayhem,” she declared, her meaning could not be clearer.
Sinclair nodded, intensely concerned for Summer’s continued wellbeing, wanting nothing more than to rush to side and, evidently, willing to agree to anything to secure it.
Cleona titled her head, looking back down at Summer before rolling her shoulders, the blonde who had thrown her around like a ragdoll now moaning at her feet. “Last Woman Standing,” Cleona amended, knowing how to apply leverage.
“Fine!” Sammie agreed without hesitation, button nose scrunching and Babyfaced dander rising, perfectly petite body tensing as if she were one last provocation away from throwing down here and now.
Cleona, for a long moment, let her threat linger, before relieving the pressure of her foot upon Summer’s exposed throat.
Sammie exhaled in relief, as did the FAWNatics, Flynn stepping back and repeating her ultimatum. “Mayhem,” she exhaled, the powerhouse steady and composed.
“Last Woman Standing.”
She inhaled deeply, holding it as she opened her eyes, lightly drumming the tips of her fingers atop the EuroAsia Title strapped snugly about her waist, ten pounds of gold and leather meaning the world to her as she carried it with pride. Samantha could hear the crowd waiting for her just on the opposite side of the curtain and, as she exhaled slowly, she felt her moment coming, the Announcer calling for her arrival.
One heartbeat.
Two…
…and she stepped out into the arena, the bright lights above exploding into new life as…
FEEL INVINCIBLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gco_SAvHVSM
…erupted from the loud speakers, the FAWNatics officially losing their collective sh*t upon the arrival of the People’s Princess. She smiled, bright and true, throwing up her arms into the air as she felt heady from the experience, FAWN’s Favourite Girl Next Door standing in at five foot four and one hundred ten pounds of instant heartbreak.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
As caught up in the moment as her supporters, Sammie wiggled her fingers up on high before bringing her hands together, the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance following her example as they collectively clapped…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…before she pointed dramatically towards the squared circle, pyrokinetics exploding to either side of her to add an exclamation point to her declaration!!
With the crowd now suitably in full voice, the Upstart Supreme shot off down the ramp at a spirited pace, darting left and right at irregular intervals, intuition guiding her to those in most need of a little love, delivering short hugs to make their evenings.
Soon enough, the squared circle was a mere few yards before her, and the EurAsia Champion accelerated at a sprint, leaping the final distance and springing her lithe physique up onto the apron. Riding the momentum, she grasped the top ropes and cleanly vaulted over the uppermost coil, landing lightly before she marched to centre ring.
Having reached her destination, she exhaled deeply, elated and beaming as she bit down on her bottom lip, saluting the FAWNatics one last time before unbuckling her Title. Somewhat begrudgingly, she handed it to the Official and, as he held it high for the whole crowd to witness, she resolved to claim it back before the night was over.
Keeping herself limber, and after surrendering to a brief pat down, the EurAsia Champion respectfully retreated to one corner, waiting for her latest Challenger.
She did not have to wait long, not when…
BAD THINGS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA
…emerged from the loud speakers, and a curvy brunette emerged from behind the curtains when she was good and ready, strolling out into view and coming to a full stop at centre stage. In one hand, Lady Lydia Lethbridge brandished an elegantly crafted, gleaming, ebony cane, one tipped with a beautifully sculptured, silver forged wolfs head, glowering as though it had picked up the scent of blood. She planted it in the ground before her, clasping it imperiously with both palms, tipping up her chin just so as she looked to the left with faint disregard, before offering the right the very same disdain, her dark, covetous eyes ultimately coming to a rest on the ring before her.
LADY LYDIA LETHBRIDGE
Standing in at five foot two and one hundred seventeen pounds, she flashed a grin of ill intent, one that displayed far too many teeth to be friendly, before setting off down the ramp at a stately pace. As she sauntered towards the squared circle, she thrust the head of her cane in the direction of those in the crowd that especially displeased her. There was no shortage of candidates, the FAWNatics not shy in showering her with scorn, and she marked each and every one to be added to her ledger, one that already dripped with blood.
Shortly after her arrival, a second member of the Commonwealth made her presence known, albeit to considerably less fanfare, one Cleona Flynn striding out onto the ramp in her Ladyship’s wake without even a hint of introduction. She didn’t need any, the Scottish Sociopath making her statement back at March to War, flattening Samantha Sinclair in a smattering of seconds, and leaving her unconscious on the canvas.
CLEONA FLYNN
Standing in at five foot six and one hundred fifty-two pounds, the redhead could not go unnoticed, even without the spotlight following her progress down the aisle, the ‘hired help’ of her Ladyship keeping a respectful distance from her employer until Lethbridge reached the steel steps. She put on the gas for her last few strides, climbing up onto the apron and, once there, sat down on the middle rope whilst lifting the top, allowing The Penthouse Belle to duck into the confines of the squared circle with all of the pomp that was her due.
Cleona followed her inside, receiving barely an acknowledgment for her troubles, finding the nearest corner and setting up camp, the eyes of the enforcer for Sammie only.
Lydia, not missing a stride, arrived at the centre of the canvas and turned regally on the spot, planting her cane with authority before her and lightly drumming the tip of one finger against the snout of the wolfs head. Noggin lowered just slightly, Lethbridge bore the biggest of dark eyes right down the lens of the hard camera, her lips spreading into a smile that prominently displayed her sharpest teeth.
Finally, she was the mistress of her own tale, as it should have been from the start and, as everyone would soon learn, no-one kept from Lethbridge what was her due. Satisfied for the time being that she had made a statement, she turned her attention to Sinclair, her manner coy and yet far from friendly.
Sammie, to her regret, had not taken her eyes off Cleona.
“So fretful,” Lethbridge teased, playing with her morsel. “Why so concerned?” Lydia cooed waving a perfectly poised hand vaguely in the direction of her hired muscle. “Ms. Flynn here is merely my associate, her presence a matter of morale support.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Sammie nodded, exhaling slowly, remembering all too well the sheer power that struggled to be contained with the physique of Cleona Flynn, the Scottish Sociopath a force of nature on the only occasion that she had met her. Sinclair tried her best to not look nervous, but it took longer than she hoped to strengthen her resolve, the miniature brunette nodding to herself before turning her attention to Lethbridge.”
Her next words caught Lydia flat footed, “To be honest, I’m a little relieved. I might have had a similar idea myself, and I would hate to think that I wasted her time.”
Lethbridge, mildly irritated by the intrigue, perked her brow in question but, before she could vocalise it…
MADE FOR THIS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIwbSq-bomk
…burst into life over the loud speakers and, unexpectantly, the stage was bathed in renewed illumination, the Supergirl of Sheffield, Summer Hopkins, standing at its centre.
SUMMER HOPKINS
Remembering all of her coaching, Summer popped into a jaunty, little bicep flex with one of her long stems crossed ever so slightly in front of the other, capturing everyone’s attention, including that of the Gladiatrix photographers.
While she didn’t quite possess the sheer, domineering presence of her elder sibling, Cassie, Baby Hopkins was physically sublime non the less, every inch of her a sleek and athletic in all the right places as her form fitting attire hugged her like a jealous lover, five foot seven and one hundred and twenty-eight pounds of instant heartbreak.
Faced with the crowds overwhelming response, she heroically fought down the desire to blush, the masses serenading her with cheers as they were extremely pleased to see her. Emboldened by their support, the wallflower turned starlet pivoted into a spiral with her arms outstretched, the walls of her childhood insecurities toppled by the positive reinforcement. Summer was living a dream, and she was giddy with embarrassment, bringing her hands back together in the shape of a heart, one that mirrored the cut-out silhouette in her sapphire top.
She set off down the ramp, spotlight accompanying her the entire way, eating up the distance with long strides in no time at all. As the British Bombshell 2.0, her blonde curls bounced atop her shoulders, and as the ring swiftly approached, she arrived at it without hesitation, diverting to Sammie’s corner at a sudden dash.
As she reached the apron she jumped, deftly making the distance with both of her long legs before sweeping them up and over the top rope, lifting one lithe stem up and over the uppermost coil before following up with the other, deliberately offering the nearest camera a cheeky shot of her firm buttocks in the process, no doubt done so at the behest of her sponsor, especially with the words ‘YOU WISH!!’ stencilled across the young women’s firm, crimson clad cheeks in white, girlish script.
Arriving at Sinclair’s side, she popped into a second, jaunty bicep flex for the FAWNatics continued appreciation, Summer feeling heady from the experience.
Her unexpected arrival tonight was crowned by a growing chant that rippled through the crowd, one that had been cemented at March to War, and was currently being encouraged by the brunette who had invited her.
“MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!!”
Sensing a threat to her Ladyship with this counter to her own presence, Cleona shoved out from the corner, joining Lethbridge as centre ring and cracking her knuckles. The representatives of the Upstart Nation responded to her overt show of aggression in kind, both Sammie and Summer holding their ground before advancing forwards.
For a brief moment, it seemed as though all pretences of civility were about to be cast aside, before the Official dived into the shrinking space between the four young women, displaying either a great deal of courage, or a distinct lack of intelligence.
“Hold it!” he demanded, the FAWNatics watching on with considerable interest, waiting with baited breath for this particular powder keg to explode. “This is a one on one contest!” the man in black and white reclarified, refusing to budge on that notion. “Your associates can stay, but they do so outside the ring, understood?”
There was a pregnant pause when no-one answered.
To the man in black and white’s relief, it passed.
The People’s Princess nodded, perpetually pleasant to the Official as always, Sammie motioning her thanks to Hopkins at her side, wordlessly letting her know that it was ok for her hold fire outside the squared circle. Summer nodded back, keeping her baby blues on Flynn as she moved to exit the ring, the Supergirl of Sheffield resolved to only get involved if she was needed.
Lethbridge gave no verbal confirmation, dismissing Ms. Flynn with an irritable wave of one hand, handing off her cane for safe keeping as she did so.
Soon enough, only Samantha and Lydia remained on the canvas, which the Official was far happier about, wasting no further time as he called for the bell to begin the contest.
Lydia, refusing to betray any slip in her composure, grinned wolfishly in her fellow Brits direction, darting a glance in the direction of Summers, “Paranoid, my dear?”
“Maybe a little,” Sammie conceded, ducking low as the two lithe, young athletes circled slowly, shooting a wary glance of her own in the direction of Flynn. “Given what big teeth you have.”
“You have no idea,” Lydia grinned all the more, the two, perfectly petite Brits surging forwards by unspoken command and locking up in a fierce Collar and Elbow tie up. For several long moments, the Champion and Challenger writhed for superior leverage, grunting and flexing, their eyes now only for each other.
Sammie felt her heart flutter as, barely an inch, she buckled first, and Lethbridge was swift to seize advantage, bellowing out in victory as she twisted and turned, spinning out of the embrace with one of her foe’s wrists captured. Twisting that arm like a wringer, Lydia forced Sinclair to fold forwards, the EurAsia Champion grasping at her own shoulder as the joint flared up in misery, protesting the sharp rotation.
Steeling her resolve, Sammie dived forwards into a neat little roll, one that returned her captured limb to its proper alignment and sprung her back up to standing. As quick on her feet as any other Lightweight, the miniature brunette transitioned her grip to grasp the wrist of her opponent, catching Lethbridge flatfooted and tucking up behind her, expertly contorting the Princess of Privilege into a Chickenwing.
Lydia grunted, not at all approving, the grimace on her features disguised by a snarl as she inhaled deeply, her bountiful bosom hiking before she demonstrated her own willingness to ride a wave of pain if it meant escaping her predicament. With an uncomfortable twist and pivot of her own, she was able to nimbly rotate out of the hold and, as both brunettes looked to counter each other’s footing, it was Lethbridge who would regain the upper hand, circling around Sammie’s back and snapping on a STIFF Sleeper!!
While the young Brit briefly stiffened in the sapping embrace, the People’s Princess began slackening almost immediately, unsteady on her feet as Lydia reefed back on her hold. Reaching up to the bicep that restricted her airways, Sinclair tugged on that limb as she was pulled this way and that with sharp jerks away from the safety of any ring ropes, pretty peepers fluttering as her heart skipped a panicked beat. An especially severe twist on the hold dropped Sammie down to one knee, the FAWNatics despairing as her lustre faded by the moment and, as one of her arms began to sway idly at her thigh, a shimmy in Sinclair’s swaying posture betrayed her desire to collapse.
Lydia bore down on her hold all the harder, grinning with wolfish delight as she scented a swift victory, her heart beating heavily as she pressed down on her opponent’s shoulders, feeling the other girls will crumbling as it was overwhelmed by the weight of Lethbridge’s ambition.
The Legionnaire’s in attendance, unwilling to surrender, and spurred on by the Summer Hopkins at ringside, followed the example of the Supergirl of Sheffield by bringing their hands together. All too quickly, a rapid, three beat rhythm built up in pace, soon filling the rafters with their percussion. The Upstart Nation’s anthem for war.
Scrunching her button nose, Sammie defiantly stayed on one knee, refusing to slump further even as her lips parted slightly, her cheeks reddening as her eyelids felt heavy. Lydia twisted her hold once more, and Sinclair released a pained erk, but instead of toppling, the brunette slooooooowly pushed her way back up towards standing…
…with a snarl of frustration, Lethbridge let go of the Sleeper and, even as Sammie inhaled a deep, relieved breath, Lydia transitioned her grip to two claw holds of the other Brit’s hair. She savagely YANKED backwards, forcing a pained yelp from the Upstart Supreme as the Penthouse Belle dropped down to one knee, CRACKING the small of her opponent’s back across a posted thigh.
HAIR PULLED BACKBREAKER: @ 0:04
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kp1ONO6OOGA
Sammie spasmed with a low groan, petite body folding the wrong way as her arms popped out at her sides, her thighs all a shimmy as Lethbridge dragged her back up to vertical, still retaining a grip on the girl’s mane.
“Watch the hair,” the Official warned, beginning his count without delivering any further. “ONE! TWO!!”
With delicious glee, Lydia patently ignored him with the self-assurance of someone who probably knew the rules better than he did, turning on the spot and viciously YANKING on her opponent’s curls violently enough to rip the young woman from off her feet. With a heart-breaking cry, Sammie sailed through the air before coming back down with a crash, rolling with the landing and cradling her head.
Dusting off her hands, Lydia sauntered on over to Sinclair, the Princess of Privilege evidently in no hurry, even as the EurAsia Champion was finding her knees. Again, Lethbridge snatched her by the hair, pulling on those curls in vindictive fashion, warming to her subject as she tugged SHARPLY on her prize.
“Lydia!” the Official warned again, his tone stern.
“Or what?” Lethbridge turned the entirety of her gaze to the man in black and white, her eyes sultry and grin wicked. When he hesitated, she yanked on Sammie’s hair even harder, Lydia dragging the girls pained features closer to the aristocrat’s sex. “No, no, please do go on. Explain to me the consequences of my actions. Will you intervene in any meaningful capacity, or can you do little more than scream protests? Counting, peon, is all that you are here for, so be a good lamb before I consider adding you to my dinner.”
The Official, dumbfounded, had no immediate retort…
…Sammie, however, was anything but, Babyfaced Dander rising as she suddenly surged up onto her feet, Sinclair pulling free from her bullying hold and RAMMED a sweet, little knee lift right up into the Challengers tummy. With a great guff of air, Lydia folded forwards, big brown eyes wide as she both wheezed and stuttered.
Sinclair, freckled cheeks all aglow, stepped back a half pace before, displaying wonderful flexibility, she whipped her right stem skywards until she pressed it almost vertical against her body. With a (adorable) war cry, she swung it back down, CRACKING Lethbridge across the back of her exposed shoulders with a beautiful axe kick!!
With a grunt, Lydia dropped down to her knees, this time expressing pain as she exposed her teeth to the hard camera.
Sammie didn’t stick around to observe her handiwork, instead setting off at a sprint that took her to the opposite set of ring ropes. She leapt into the rubber coated steel, support from the FAWNatics following her as the coils embraced her, snapping taunt as they sprung her back across the canvas. At considerable speed, she returned to Lethbridge, the curvy brunette popped back up to one knee which, as Sinclair hopped into the air, left her wide open to receive a flying knee right to her jaw!!
GOLDEN WIZARD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4GgKThHoZAA
The CRACK!! was audible to those sitting several rows back and, almost immediately after Lydia’s noggin was sent snapping backwards, the rest of body soon followed, her Ladyship slumping to the mat in a heap.
Sammie wasted not a second, throwing herself atop her for…
ONE!
T…
Even with her head scrambled, Lethbridge threw up her shoulder, denying Sinclair her victory at this juncture. Undaunted, Sammie got right back down to business, the People’s Princess tucking her palms beneath her groggy foes shoulders and tugging her back up to standing. Once vertical, she took possession of one of Lydia’s wrists…
…only for the Penthouse Belle to resort to her default setting, reaching out with her free hand and RAKING her fingers down across Sammie’s peepers!! With a surprised cry, Sinclair turned away, palming her baby brown’s as they watered defensively, blinded and completely at a loss as to her surroundings.
The FAWNatics called fowl, but the Official saw nothing, Lethbridge taking full advantage of everyone else’s inability to do anything. Capturing her foes arm, she TWISTED it out into its full extension, rotating Sammie’s shoulder painfully before, with expert repositioning, she folded the same limb in tight against the other brunettes back, completing the Hammerlock.
Sinclair, even blinded as she was, was more than aware that she was in danger and attempted to retaliate, swinging her left arm behind her in hopes of connecting with her elbow. Unfortunately, all she accomplished was assisting Lydia no end, the curvy Brit neatly ducking below the swinging limb and tucking it behind her shoulders. With Sammie all nicely wrapped, Lethbridge extended her own free arm, pivoted her hips before whipping herself around, damn near beheading the Upstart Supreme with a wicked Lariat.
HAMMERLOCK LARIAT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVmoJTPiFAo
With a pained grunt, Sinclair was sent tumbling backwards to the canvas, landing hard on her shoulders as her stems kicked up into the air. The moment Sammie settled in a heap, Lydia rolled her over onto her front, taking full advantage of her the other girls rattled state and throwing herself across her back. No sooner had she settled, Lethbridge wrapped her arm around Sinclair’s throat for a second Sleeper, this time riding her rival flat against the canvas, attempting to choke her whilst her pelvis thrust down against Sammie’s taunt buttocks.
Sinclair stiffened visibly as she erked out a protest, her lithe body shivering as her lips popped slightly open, her eyes fluttering to half lidded as she struggled to inhale. As the tips of her boots scrapped across the canvas, Lydia bore down atop of her even more, wrenching the Sleeper with short jerks, encouraging a wince with each one, before she leaned over, grinning in wolfish delight as she bit down on her foe’s ear.
“Why must you struggle?” the Princess of Privilege whispered between nips, grinding her hips as she forced fresh moans from the ensnared Sammie. “We both know you’re my dinner.”
Sinclair, freckled cheeks growing redder by the moment, shook her head as much as she was able before, with considerable will, she braced one of her elbows down against the canvas, before following up with the second. With a great deal of effort, she slooooooowly pushed her upper body up into an arch and, with even more determination, she began to draaaaaaaag herself across the mat.
Summer was there at ringside, and while Sammie couldn’t quite see her, she could hear her well enough, inching both herself and her rider across the canvas one painful stretch at a time. Fuelled by the unbridled encouragement from her close friend, Sinclair refused to give up, even as she began fading even more swiftly, reaching out with her hand for ropes she hoped desperately were there…
…and she GRABBED the bottom coil just before she could pass out, the EurAsia Champion clinging onto to it as though doing so would stop her from drowning. The FAWNatics were elated, Lethbridge was somewhat less so.
To the surprise of many, Lydia dismounted her straddle before the Official could even begin insisting that she break, the Challenger never the less palming the back of the Champions noggin and SCRUBBING her freckled cheek viciously across the canvas before parting. Fuming, Lethbridge paced away, tugging on the rim of her gloves to tighten them about her claws. She had barely left the scene of her last crime before she almost immediately returned to it, the Official’s attention wavering to Sammie as Lydia stalked back in.
Before he could catch the sudden movement, Lethbridge had already reached down and snagged both of Sinclair’s pliant ankles, lifting her athletic stems into the air, and then YANKED the other young woman right off the canvas and up into the air. Ripped from the ropes, Sammie came back to earth all too quickly, landing with a harsh bump which left her feeling even more disoriented that before.
The FAWNatics derided the lack of sportsmanship, and the man in black and white was evidently keen to verbalise their displeasure in a more official manner. “Lydia!”
“That is Your Ladyship[/u]!” she snapped back at him; her patience having worn thin. “And she is out of the ring ropes, so find some other matter to fret over, I have business to conclude!”
Dismissing the man’s presence, she returned to stalking Sinclair, zeroing in on the People’s Princess and, with the girl rolled up to sitting, she viciously STAMPED down hard on the young woman’s fingers!!
Sammie yelped, not even trying to contain her cry, cradling her wounded paw to her torso as the crowd winced in sympathy. If she had still been groggy before, that sharp sting cut through the fog, Sinclair biting her bottom lip as she rolled up to her knees, her abused hand still shaking as she held it close.
Lydia, lacking much by way of mercy, snatched her by the hair and began yanking Sammie up to standing, sensing weakness to be exploited…
…a narrative which Sinclair possessed zeroed desire to continue being a part of, steeling her resolve as she powered up to standing, catching Lethbridge off guard as she cupped both of her palms behind her foes head. A moment later, the Upstart Supreme popped up into the air, tucked her athletic stems in tight to her body, and dropped backwards with a great deal of momentum. Her Ladyship was forced to fold forwards with her and, before anyone could react, as the canvas provided a sudden stop to their momentum, Sammie’s knees were RAMMED right up into Lydia’s chin with considerable force!!
SAMMIE SURPRISE!!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqPyYY8v0_c
Taking the full force of the hit, Lethbridge sprung back up to vertical, her arms spinning in a windmill and as she stumbled on her feet. For several steps, her dark eyes looking distinctly blurry, it looked as though she would tumble over but, somehow, she retained her boot leather, shaking her head as the world spun around her.
In contrast, Sammie inhaled a deep breath before LAUNCHING her way by up to vertical by way of FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up, the crowd delighted by the display of athletic prowess before she bounded into a fresh sprint. Riding the wave of Babyfaced Momentum, Sinclair zeroed in on her opponent and, as a woozy Lydia attempted to counter with a hasty clothesline, Sammie ducked beneath it with seeming ease, hooking the limb on the way past before fluidly flipping her own petite mass up, around and over Lethbridge’s shoulders. Completing her trip back down to the canvas before the thoroughly confused Lydia knew what was happening, Sinclair caught her in a front headlock, threw herself backwards, and PLANTED the Penthouse Belle with a Floatover DDT!!
FLOATOVER DDT!!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_alIKpkpIFA
With the crown of her head spiked into the canvas, Lydia entire physique turned rigid for a heartbeat before she slumped onto on the mat, curvy buttock twitching as she was rolled over onto her back. Sammie threw herself atop of her Challenger, collecting one of the girls stems for…
ONE!
TWO!!
Lethbridge threw up a shoulder, refusing to stay down, rolling with the momentum of her escape as she attempted to create distance.
Sammie pursued, determined to maintain pressure, and all too quickly the two young women were tangling once more, up onto their knees and grappling for advantage. For a moment, Sinclair appeared to have the upper hand, securing greater leverage before Lydia grabbed her by the hair, YANKING her head back sharply and felicitating a pained cry from her fellow Brit.
Encouraged by the discomfort of the EurAsia Champion, the Princess of Privilege followed up with a swift rabbit punch to her rivals curled throat, forcing a startled Sammie to both choke and slump visibly. As grossly illegal as the strike had been, Lydia took full advantage of the infraction none the less, grinning wolfishly as she pushed up to her feet and, with Sinclair reeling, forcibly shoved the other young women’s noggin in tight between her thighs.
Lethbridge SQUEEZED her curvy stems together with vindictive force to both make her point and to force a shocked groan to escape from Sammie, the slim brunette’s temples protesting as she could feel her head being crushed, the rest of her body shivering from the pressure. Wrapping her arms about Sinclair’s midriff, Lydia prepared to bully her up to boot leather, folded forwards and at her lack of mercy.
Sammie, however, was evidently done with playing damsel, the People’s Princess wrapping her own arms about the back of her opponent’s constricting stems and, with both a yank and quick reverse, caught a suddenly wide-eyed Lethbridge off guard and swept her off her feet! Lydia toppled backwards to the canvas, landing with a grunt and a sharp cry of protest whilst Sammie stood tall before her, freckled cheeks flushed crimson now that she was free.
Retaining her grip of her adversary’s powerful stems, Sinclair rolled Lethbridge over onto her front and, before Lydia could recover, Sammie turned herself back to front and squatting, tucking her fellow Brits ankles beneath her shoulders as she did so, locking in a perfect Boston Crab!!
BOSTON CRAB: @0:15
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7p89PSfeWZ4
Perhaps appropriately, Lethbridge HOWLED in protest, her back forcibly curled to it’s limit as the rest of her body shivered, muscles twitching as the base of her spine cramped. As Sammie sat back a little further, Lydia cried out anew, Her Ladyship shaking her head almost violently in denial as the FAWNatics demanded that she surrender.
She defied them, refusing to concede to Sinclair, the miniature Brit planting her elbow down hand against the canvas as she began to drag herself across the mat. Inch by painful inch, Lydia made slow progress, desperate to reach the closest set of ring topes before her resolve could give out. With an especially frantic cry, she stretched out for the bottom coil, straining to grasp the rubber coated steel…
…only to realise, to the despair of the Penthouse Belle, that the bottom rope was still an inch or so out of reach.
The FAWNatics began clapping, willing her to capitulate, Lydia’s fingers trembling as her dark eyes began tearing…
…and Cleona, at ringside, surged forwards. Grasping the bottom rope herself, the Scottish Sociopath shoved the rubber coated steel forwards and within reach of Lethbridge, Lydia SNATCHING a hold of it as though her life depended on it.
The FAWNatics called fowl, the Official delivered a reprimand, but could not deny that the Penthouse Belle was indeed now in the ropes. He turned to deliver the bad news to Sammie, but the Upstart Supreme had already released her hold, nodding in understanding even in the face of disappointment.
“It’s fine,” Sinclair insisted with gracious nod, holding up her hands to confirm that there would be no protest. “Just do me a favour, and remind Flynn to not get involved.”
With the Official moving off to do precisely that, Sammie inhaled deeply before stepping backwards, remaining laser focused on her objective as she exhaled and crouched lower, ready and limber to explode into action. With nerves aplenty, and the FAWNatics waiting with baited breath, she shook her pert, little booty as she prepped to pounce, a pained Lethbridge dragging herself slowly back up to vertical.
Just as the Princess of Privilege returned to stable footing, the EurAsia Championed darted forwards, bracing herself at the last pace and, like a bolt of lightning, she unleashed her athletic right stem up and out in a beautiful Sammie Kick…
…which Lydia, perhaps sensing danger, threw herself to the canvas to avoid danger…
…the Official, however, much to the horror of everyone involved except Lethbridge, turned around from his scolding of Cleona at ringside, and ATE the entirety of Sammie’s boot leather instead!!
The man in black and white hit the canvas hard and Sinclair, Babyface to her core, was filled with immediate remorse, covering her mouth even as the arena was being filled with the CRACK!! of her unintentional blow. As he crumbled into a heap, Sammie was by his side, immediately checking on his well being and offering her apologies, distraught with what she had done.
As well meaning as she was being, the People pleaded with Sinclair to keep her to stay focused, Lydia already crouched low on her blindside and grinning with far too many teeth, fully prepared to both pounce and devour their Princess.
Darting her eyes in Flynn’s direction, her hired help read Lethbridge’s intentions as clear as day, tossing the ebony cane entrusted into her possession into the ring for Lydia to snatch out of the air. As Sammie turned about, the FAWNatics cried out a warning, but it was all far too late as Her Ladyship sprung her trap, charging forwards and WHACKING the sleekly sculptured, silver wolfs head into her fellow Brits unsuspecting temple.
Boneless, Sammie slumped to the canvas, the Upstart Supreme not even twitching as she lay crumpled in a heap, pretty peepers well and truly closed as she breathed fitfully. Imperiously, Lethbridge stood over her toppled foe, her heart beating franticly in the face of impending victory, and all of the fantasies she was now free to fulfil upon Sinclair.
The FAWNatics protested, damn near deafening in their efforts to be heard, but the Official remained unresponsive on the groaned as he showed no signs of waking. The tone of the arena changed swiftly however, those cries transforming into cheers as, having apparently seen enough cheating, the Supergirl of Sheffield, Summer Hopkins, abandoned her post outside the squared circle and dived to her friend’s defence.
Cleona Flynn responded to this invasion, moving immediately to intercept the threat to Her Ladyship, diving into the squared circle also. All too quickly, the two hardbodies met at centre ring, those watching whooping with delight as Lydia, smaller than the duo, ducked for cover in slightly less than regale fashion.
With a collision of strong bodies, both Summer and Cleona writhed for advantage and, as Flynn seemed set on overpowering the British Bombshell, the beloved blonde instead managed to slip out of her foes grasp and circle around to her blindside. Circling her arms about the redhead’s solid midriff, the five-foot seven babe braced herself and, with a burst of effort, POWERED Flynn up and over, ripping her off her feet before DRIVING her back down into the deck across her neck and shoulders!!
German Suplex
www.youtube.com/watch?v=onoVfL1Bf4s
Given the circumstances, attempting a pinfall wasn’t worth a single, solitary damn, so Summer released her aggressor, allowing Cleona to fold sideways to the mat with a pained grunt.
With her mind only on Sinclair, Summer was back up on her feet on her flash, scanning the canvas for Sammie’s position. Flynn however, was far from done, rolling with her rough landing and finding her own boot leather just as quickly as her brightly coloured counterpart. The two charged again and, at centre ring, Summer showed no signs of backing down, instead collecting Cleona up in a tight hug and, with another impressive display, powered Flynn back off her feet with a Belly to Belly Suplex!!
Belly to Belly Suplex
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0M-y4zt1uWM
Releasing her unwilling cargo mid-flight, Summer left the Scot to her fate, the redhead hitting the canvas hard and sent bouncing across the mat, cursing as much as she grunted in pain.
The FAWNatics ate it up, loving this turn of events, filling the arena with cheers as the Supergirl of Sheffield remained on the front foot. Back up to vertical in an instant, Summer crouch herself low and ready, fully prepared to keep Cleona on her heels and to continue dominating the ring…
…until Lydia interjected, turning the tables as she struck with predatory intent, weaponizing her cane for a second time and SLAMMING its wolf headed tip into the small of the British Bombshell’s spine! Summer yelped, sharp and heart breaking, her stems losing their fibre as she dropped down to one knee, pretty peepers closing as she cradled her throbbing back.
Cleona, sensing weakness, was on her in an instant, the Scottish Sociopath seizing her blonde counterpart long before she could recover and, with impressive might, muscled all one hundred twenty-eight beautiful pounds of her up and over onto her shoulders. Having bullied Baby Hopkins into the Argentine Backbreaker, Flynn inflicted further control over her newly minted rival by reefing back on the hold, carrying Summer high above the ring and, whilst pulling down on both the trapped girls firm thigh and on her cool neck, she viciously bent the young woman’s already wounded back into an increasingly painful curve.
Utterly dominant, Cleona paraded the submissive Supergirl of Sheffield high above the ring, pausing before the Hard Camera to immortalise the moment. Statement made, Flynn suddenly hurled herself backwards, PLANTING Summer into the deck with a brutal Celtic Drop!!
CELTIC DROP: @0:15 Onwards
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xG3K3agXbG4
Hopkins resulting groan was as hollow as it was loud, the young woman rolling over onto her front as she struggled to inhale, the muscles in her back spasming and the same time her winded gut quivered. Heroically, Summer tried to get up, but even the Supergirl of Sheffield required time to recover after such merciless abuse.
Her Ladyship had no intention of providing, Lydia having resumed command of the ring, ebony cane planted on the canvas before her and manner imperious. “Remove her,” Lethbridge commanded, her grin betraying nothing but delighted malice. “Make an example of her.”
Cleona complied, grabbing Summer by both the belt of her shorts and her proud mane even as the young woman was finding her hands and knees. Bracing herself, Flynn inhaled a deep breath before dragging Hopkins to her feet, and then unceremoniously tossing her back out of the ring. Unable to resist, Summer tumbled out of control, shoved out through the ropes, bouncing off the apron with a crack, before DROPPING to the cold concrete outside the squared circle with a thump.
With Lethbridge watching on, Cleona was relentless in her pursuit, ducking between the top and middle ropes, Flynn dropping down to the concrete in a far more controlled manner. To her mild surprise, Summer had already made some progress from her crash landing, pulling herself across the harsh surface and, stubbornly, was using the Announcer Table to slowly pull herself back up to vertical.
Tilting her head slightly, Flynn watched her foes progress with detached interest, before grabbing the back of the blonde’s noggin and SLAMMING her face first into the rigid desk!!
Summer bucked hard before slumping into a stunned heap, folded forwards over the table and barely moving, her baby blues half lidded as her buttocks twitched. Peeling the wreckage of the British Bombshell off the Announcers Table, the Scottish Sociopath muscled her foes suddenly flaccid, submissive frame back up over her shoulders, powering her into place as though she weighed nothing, taking possession of Sammie’s chosen champion as though she intended to keep the young woman for herself.
No-one seemed to be in a position to say otherwise.
Lady Lydia Lethbridge, still safely tucked away within the confines of the squared circle, could not have looked more pleased as she observed her hired helps handiwork. Her manner was coy and her grin feral, all obstacles now removed, her Ladyship free to do whatever pleased her. With cane still in hand, she…
…ATE the entirety of a Sammie Kick as she turned about, Summer having bought Sinclair enough time to recover with her sacrifice!! A loud, triumphant CRACK!! filled the arena as the underside of her boot connected squarely with Lydia’s chin and the Penthouse Belle, knocked senseless by the strike, toppled backwards like a felled oak.
Sammie followed soon after, still weak in the knees as she scrambled over the stunned Lethbridge, hooking one of her fellow Brit’s nerveless limbs and rolling her up into a tight pin.
For several long moments, the FAWNatics watching panicked as they remembered the Official being in no fit state himself, but much to their relief, he had come to enough to drag himself over and being counting.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
The bell rang, confirming that the swift turn around had proved successful, the Announcer declaring that Samantha Sinclair was still the EurAsia Champion!!
The FAWNatics erupted in the positive, and Sammie exhaled deeply, acutely aware that there was a portion of this match that she would never remember. Her temple throbbed where she had been struck by the cane and, with a wince and long groan, the miniature brunette managed to pull herself back up to sitting. With assistance from the Official, she was just about able to find boot leather and she gratefully accepted the return of her gold-plated Title.
She was just about to apologise for kicking him in the face, when the mood in the arena shifted, becoming considerably more tense as, with a grunt of effort, Cleona Flynn deposited her human cargo back into the ring with an impressive toss. Summer’s athletic frame landed with a bump and rolled over onto her back before coming a stop, Hopkins settling in a spread-eagled star fish as Cleona followed her in.
Utterly ignoring everyone else, Flynn climbed into the squared circle, following the remains of her victim and Sammie’s friend, towering over the stunned Summer and, with silent intent, stepped on the girl’s throat. She applied only a little pressure, just enough to illicit a mournful moan to escape from Hopkin’s pert bosom.
She had the entirety of Sinclair’s attention and, as the People’s Princess, filled with Babyfaced Dander, moved to surge forwards, Cleona applied just a little more pressure. Sammie was stopped in her tracks, Summer wincing as her whole body twitched, a short spasm that exemplified her mounting danger.
Flynn, however, remained calm, tilting her head before looking up at Sammie, the powerhouse waving vaguely in the direction of the brunettes EurAsia Gold, her tone dangerously low and even. “Mayhem,” she declared, her meaning could not be clearer.
Sinclair nodded, intensely concerned for Summer’s continued wellbeing, wanting nothing more than to rush to side and, evidently, willing to agree to anything to secure it.
Cleona titled her head, looking back down at Summer before rolling her shoulders, the blonde who had thrown her around like a ragdoll now moaning at her feet. “Last Woman Standing,” Cleona amended, knowing how to apply leverage.
“Fine!” Sammie agreed without hesitation, button nose scrunching and Babyfaced dander rising, perfectly petite body tensing as if she were one last provocation away from throwing down here and now.
Cleona, for a long moment, let her threat linger, before relieving the pressure of her foot upon Summer’s exposed throat.
Sammie exhaled in relief, as did the FAWNatics, Flynn stepping back and repeating her ultimatum. “Mayhem,” she exhaled, the powerhouse steady and composed.
“Last Woman Standing.”