Hazeema McMurray vs. Rue Ann Mackenna

HAZEEMA VS RUE II



As personnel prepare the ring for the next match’s special stipulations the camera pans over the crowd, scores of cheering fans leap out of their chairs pulling the graphics of their t-shirts toward the lens and raising signs like We Want The Londons! and Sammie for World Champ! The eyes of the FAWNtron pause on a particularly rowdy group of fans in the front row. This lucky bunch had the good fortune to be seated next to some celebrity guests. Dressed in a semi-casual orange blouse and black jeans, a former star of the indies and multiple promotions overseas: The “Rica Chica'' Catalina Melocoton!



CATALINA MELOCOTON





One of the biggest stars to never sign with FAWN or WOLF aside from guest appearances, The Puerto Rican Dream has been mostly absent from the ring for the last two years training her daughter for her in-ring debut. Seated to Catalina’s right and wearing a lovely baby blue dress suitable for church or a night out with your parents, Elisa Melocoton.



ELISA MELOCOTON





The potential Mother-daughter tag team has been the talk of the dirt sheets and there have been rumours abound of the Melocotons signing to a new promotion, and it looks like Kent Allard’s Twitter followers have been proven right once again. With genuine smiles on their faces they wave to the camera, Elisa visibly more excited. Her inexperience being on camera adorably obvious. Looks like the ring crew is done their preparations, let’s get back to the show!



Tonight’s PPV has the unexpected rematch of Hazeema McMurray’s debut against Rue Ann Mackenna. She fought valiantly against Hell’s Hillbilly and impressed many, including Rue Ann Mackenna! McMurray had little in-ring experience but had shown a high level of technical mastery and spirit… however, Rue has made a career of crushing the spirits of hopeful heroines her whole career. Power and brutal tactics won the day, Rue destroying the Canuck for the final third of the match, including a cringe-inducing double foot stomp to the breasts from the top rope to the steel steps. Despite her sadistic moves Rue Ann showed a little mercy (by her standards) and protected Hazeema from a handsy fan and left things alone after the 3 count, even offering an olive branch after the win. Most would have rejected it after such a public humiliation and beating, but Hazeema could see the good in Mackenna few saw and far less experienced. Striking up a friendship that baffles most of the locker room, Hazeema and Rue will do battle tonight in a CAGE MATCH. If that wasn’t apparent by the imposing enclosure lowering over the ring the announcer informs the FAWNatics...



“The following match will take place in a STEEL CAGE! Winning comes via pinfall, knockout, or submission! Our first participant…”



The FAWNtron screen goes stark white, a rubber stamp slams down leaving an imprint of the Canadian flag in red ink. A baritone heavy, men’s choir sings “OOOHHHHH, CAAAAANNNAADAAAA!!”



www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDgQdr8ZkTw&t=26s



Meglovania from the hit video game Undertale fills the air with adrenaline-pumping electronica. The screen swirls with colours as it transitions to a 16-bit sword and sorcery video game featuring a chesty witch of a heroine, casting spells and fighting monsters.



Bouncing with giddiness through the curtain is the Northern Coalition’s Manager and Dungeon Master, Hazeema McMurray.



HAZEEMA MCMURRAY





Practically skipping from one side of the stage to the other, the leader of FAWN most neighbourly and quirkiest stable is ready and raring to show her skills in her second PPV match for the top promotion. The Pakistani-Canadian has her bombshell body covered in a black bodysuit with a deep V-neckline and wide shoulder straps. A diamond of material is cut away to show off her belly button, two sets of black bands reach from her center and mound to where her shelf of an ass starts and ends. The ensemble has a swath of material from her neck that travels between her awe-inspiring breasts that connects to a gold ring, where two other strips travel under each breast to the back where it is an entirely a breathable mesh. Black ankle boots covered her feet and as always, her dark brown hair swung near her ribs tied in two pigtails with short braids.



RING GEAR







“From Letterkenny Ontario, Canada! Representing The Northern Coalition! Standing at 160cm and weighing in at 54kg! The High Caster of The City in the Sky!” The announcer looks confused by that last statement, “Hazeema McMurrayyyy!!”



The DM&M zig-zags across the ramp slap the hands of eager (and drooling) fans. Normally she’d be accompanied by one or both other members of the Northern Coalition, but her fellow Canadians agreed to stay away until any post-match activities are done should they occur, as per Rue Ann’s challenge to the friendly rookie. Before making the final trek into the Squared Circle Hazeema stops and takes in the frightening sight before her. The towering structure is a cold grey block of chain-link fence, the more abrasive side built inward to make any bumps extra uncomfortable. It’s a roofed cage, each corner of the ceiling and from the center, chains dangle from an apparatus attached to the arena’s rafters. The grid walls pressed tightly to the sides of the ring turning the apron into a dead end. As a rare break from tradition various weapons of wrestling culture and dangerous objects no matter what the situation hangs from the cage’s ceiling: chairs, kendo sticks, and brass knuckles, oh my!



Craning her neck at the size of the cage, Hazeema gulps nervously,” Did not expect this would be my second PPV match when I started training…” Casting off her nervousness with some headshaking and some bouncing off her feet, and subsequently her chest (nearly causing several heart attacks in the first row) McMurray marches through the cell door.



Reaching the ring Hazeema takes the bottom rope in two hands, leans back, and slingshots between the cables into the Squared Circle. Landing in a squat handstand she flips onto her feet with her hands in the air. The FAWNatics applaud the newbie’s show of athleticism and the subsequent jiggling that comes after.



Hazeema basks in the respectful applause for a few moments before heading to her corner for what would usually be her pre-match inspection for foreign objects. Given the nature of the bout, there was no point in it, so it was more of a last-minute check if Hazeema changed her mind and she wanted to sneak out the back. The zebra officiating today will be the world’s largest and most likely handsomest referee, Reginald Worthington III.







The British beefcake dwarfs the suddenly flushed young woman as he pats her down, “It’s good to see you back, this will be a fan-favourite. I can tell,” he smiles and McMurray’s knees visibly knock, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”



Sweet Shatner! Those eyes! And those shoulders! She squeaks out a “thanks bud,” physically restraining herself from leaning into his firm hands.



The announcer’s voice echoes out again. “Her opponent for this contest, hailing from Bath County, Kentucky, standing at five feet, four inches tall and weighing in at one hundred twenty-five pounds, Hell’s Favorite Hillbilly… Rue Ann MacKenna!



“BURY THEM DEEP” BY GHOULTOWN:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_kn2rtuc4o

Rue Ann Mackenna





The slow, steady guitar riff of Rue Ann’s ring music is immediately drowned out by jeering fans, but you’d think they were cheering her the way the redhead was smiling. She’s staring straight ahead at the cage, licking her lips like a hungry mountain lion. Her black singlet split to her navel, barely trying to hide her goods. The toes of her naked feet are doing a little dance on the cold metal of the entrance ramp, she hasn’t been this excited for a match in a minute.



As she gets closer to the ring, Rue Ann breaks into a run, hops up onto the guardrail, and jumps onto the cage, landing just outside the middle and top ropes. She clings to the cage like a wild animal but gives Hazeema a huge, surprisingly friendly smile. “Hey, kitten! You miss me?” She winks. “Well, improve your aim!”



Rue Ann drops to the concrete floor and runs to the cage door, slamming it behind her. A ring attendant moves to lock the cage as the Kentucky villain advances towards Hazeema.



“Real talk,” Rue says in her twang. “This is different than our last match. I ain’t gonna pretend I took it easy on you last time, but we both know there’s stuff I avoided that I normally don’t. Can’t do it this time. You gotta beat me or…” Rue almost seems regretful. “Well, you’ve seen FAWN matches. Fight your ass off, okay?”



Hazeema claps a hand on Mackenna’s shoulder and tilts her head down in a nod, appreciating the redhead’s concern and upfrontness. “No worries Tim Curry, I always do. And I took your advice and got some help in my rough and tumble skills. Apparently, a wrestler here named Cassava heard The Coalition was looking and DM’d me contact info for a Baseball Valkyrie. A kind, old veteran from LAW that’s been tutoring me in getting down and dirty. Not THAT kind.” Hazeema clarified, seeing a lecherous glint in Rue Ann’s eye and a smirk on her lips.



Hands clasped behind his back, referee Reginald leans toward the women, politely requesting that Rue Ann steps back so he can perform the usual formalities. “Pardon me, ladies. I hate to intrude but I must check Ms. Mackenna for foreign objects before we can begin the festiviwhsheynow see here!.”



A coquettish Rue Ann plays with his right nipple through his stripes, the significantly larger man sputters and retreats clumsily from her probing fingers like a spider was crawling on him. The FAWNatics have a hearty laugh as she purrs at Worthington,” Well aren’t you eager to get your hands on me.” Rue Ann finally walks to her corner, rolling her hips in a way that she knew was eye-catching. Hazeema certainly thought so. Reginald did as well but was too distracted trying to regain his composure to appreciate the view. Hoping his face wasn’t red, Reginald quietly asked Hazeema to wait in her corner, she nodded and off the Canuck went. Mackenna threw her arms over the top ropes and thrust her body out, chin up to the sky and breasts threatening to spill out of her one-piece. If Rue’s intent wasn’t clear, the whistles and catcalls from the crowd clued Reginald in on how detailed she wanted her body search to be. Shaking his head in bafflement, the brawny British official does his check with his usual professional manner, causing groans of disappointment in the crowd and a pout from Rue Ann.



Hold on a moment…



Reginald sees a glint of something pocketed away in the seam of Rue Ann’s gear just over her left breast. A referee has actually found a gimmick before the match! Mark the calendar!! Perhaps the proudest moment of Worthington’s career, he tries to keep his voice steady, “Ms. Mackenna, I’m afraid I’ll have to confiscate the object you have hidden there...” Reggie makes a very vague gesture to Mackenna’s chest.



Rue Ann cocks her head to the side, a mocking expression of confusion on her face, "I'm not hiding anything… if you think I'm fibbing you'll have to get in there and prove it." Pulling her arms off the ropes Rue clasps her hands behind her back and shakes her shoulders back and forth causing a relatively minor earthquake throughout her bosom. Nearly going cross-eyed trying to follow the jiggling (so he wouldn't lose track of the weapon) Reginald steps away rubbing his chin, caught between upholding his oath as an officer for the regulations of the one true sport that is professional wrestling… and his desire not to be sent as a pervert fondling a woman's unmentionables in public.



Behind the official's back unseen by Worthington, Rue Ann is hyping up the crowd with her hands, adding some peer pressure to her gambit. Normally the Orlando crowd is very against the Kentuckian's whims but in this instance? They are 110% behind this zebra getting to second base! The rowdy audience chanting "REG-GIE! REG-GIE! REG-GIE!" Still facing away from the vexing redhead, the Alpha zebra places his hands on his hips with a look of determination and steels himself. He's an official, he needs to lay down the law! So, he'll ask very politely and hope to heavens Ms. Mackenna sees reason… Reginald turns back to the rambunctious wrassler, "Now see here Ms.-Ahh!!"



Hands moving quicker than a dog with the Thanksgiving turkey, Mackenna snatches Worthington's wrists and slaps his wide palms on her juggs! Rue's and Reggie's eyes widen and mouths hang in shock, but the redhead's expression is purely for show. Her shockingly skilled fingers manipulating his, the referee is guided through a thorough groping of Rue Ann's bounty. The crowd’s going nuts at this display and the match hasn’t started yet! Rue Ann’s voice is breathy and falsely chiding,” You dirty, dirty, brute.” All the while forcing Reginald’s hands to tweak her nipples. While Reginald is taller and physically stronger than… Well, most people in the world, but Rue Ann is deceptively powerful and he doesn’t want to hurt her in the struggle. So, Reginald can only comically sputter objections as Mackenna uses him as a personal massager.



Back in the Babyface corner Hazeema watches this spectacle and feels a little lonely. Crossing her arms under her chest Hazeema glances down at her cleavage and plays out the large ref doing the same to her muttering, "Mmm… I'd rather do that in private…"



Now properly warmed up Rue Ann decides the big lug has had enough and let’s go of his hands, to her delight Ref Reginald gives her a few squeezes on his own before realizing he's free and darts back to center ring like a scalded dog. Beaming, Rue Ann reaches into the wide opening of her singlet and pulls out the MacGuffin that started this miniplay, a 70's style skinny microphone that could be curved around Mackenna's pulchritude.



“This has all been fun and all” Rue Ann booms, her voice still seeming tiny over the sound system, “but the FAWNatics came here for a fucking match!” For once, Rue Ann is cheered by the crowd for something not involved fondling a downed opponent. “And we’re gonna give ‘em one. Now,” the hillbilly motions to the cage. “Obviously this is meant to keep us in and others out - hopefully preventing me from breaking another person’s arm!” The FAWNatics cheer at the memory of Rue Ann’s assault on a fan who groped Hazeema months ago. Some even hold up signs with printed screencaps of the incident. Rue shakes her head.



“It’s really weird to be cheered,” she mutters, getting some laughs. “Now, we all know you have friends who deeply adore and are protective of you.” Again, a pop from the fans rises and Rue Ann rides it out. “I can respect that. Hell, I obviously felt a little protective of you last time. But the kid gloves are off tonight and we’re gonna go to town on each other.” With that, the mere thought of what these two women can and will do to each other causes everyone to lose their collective mind. Rue pulls the mic from her lips, allowing them to get it out of their system, for two minutes. Finally, she resumes. “Now, while your friends -all fine people, by the way - will understandably okay with anything you choose to do to me, I have a slight suspicion watching me strip you, suck you, bend you over, and fuck you might be a bit much for them.”



Hearing this, Hazeema blushes a red the Canadian flag would be envious of.



“And, frankly, I don’t think a mere cage is going to be enough to keep them out if they’re really wanting to protect your honor. So, I have… a solution.” Rue’s hand slips under her right tit and retrieves a deceptively small wireless control with one button. She raises it dramatically and presses it.



The cage lurches. The chains attached to each of the four corners raise the cage, ring and all inside from the arena floor, and slowly raise it twenty feet off the ground. Hazeema and Reginald instantly topple, but Rue - aided by foresight and a history of training to keep footing on logs in rivers by her mother - stares sweetly. When the cage reaches its stopping point, Rue Ann continues. “First off,” she points at the front rows, “HAHAHA FUCK YOU! You thought you’d be ringside for all of this show!” The first rows boo while everyone else laughs. “Second,” she looks at Hazeema, “consider this your second FAWN lesson: nothing here goes how you planned.”



Not expecting this turn of events in her wildest dreams Hazeema fell to the canvas with the first lurch of the cage elevating off the ground. The Coalition manager pushes herself to all fours and uses the ropes of her corner to slowly get back to standing on shaky stems. To Hazeema’s knowledge, she wasn’t afraid of heights, but each subtle sway of structure in its hanging state felt very WRONG. Gripping the top rope with a white-knuckled grip Hazeema whips her head around the ring, seeing through the chain-link walls shocked and delighted faces on the FAWNatics. They have a special spot in history for seeing this first of its kind match. The official’s still getting his airlegs on the mat, scooting back on his butt into the corner to safely raise himself.



Mackenna pushes her work-reimbursed microphone through a gap in the cage and lets it drop aaalllll the way down where it shatters into pieces on the now bare concrete floor. The sound system lets out a painful shriek that causes everyone, including Hazeema, to momentarily shudder. The high-pitched electronic squeal is like a starting pistol to Rue Ann who bolts out of her corner with echoing stomps, blazing across the ring to drive her shoulder into the Canadian’s belly.



“Goouhh!!”



McMurray’s driven hard in the corner! The gigantic apparatus tilts slightly in the direction of Rue’s powerful tackle. Grabbing the middle ropes, Rue Ann pulls herself into repeated shoulderchecks to Hazeema’s midsection, grunting with every gut churning blow the DM&M is forced into a seat on the second turnbuckle. Finally, on sturdy feet Ref. Worthington motions for the bell, officially starting the match.



Rue Ann hauls back and backhands Hazeema across her mighty juggs, rocking them nearly from their cradle of cloth. Fans recoil at the thundercrack. The hillbilly digs her jagged nails into soft sweater meat and drags Hazeema from the corner, twisting the breasts and scratching them, before using Hazeema’s chest as a grip to sling her to the mat. The Canadian rolls, landing in a seated position, clutching her wounded tits.



The Hellbillly bounds off the cables behind the DM&M and races towards her. A barefoot connects to the back of Hazeema’s skull, throwing her forward. Rue Ann keeps racing, launching herself to the ropes and rebounding towards Hazeema, who looks up in time to see a milky knee aimed at her face. She flinches but has the forethought to cross her arms in front of her as a guard, it stops the worst of the blow but Rue Ann’s knee still knocks her forearms into her face hard enough to force Hazeema flat. Rue Ann practically skips back to Hazeema’s side, the new altitude seemingly having no effect on her in-ring game, going into a deep crouch Rue leaps straight into the air and kicks her legs out. Her Kentucky rump looking to flatten McMurray’s Canadian teats. Arms vibrating from Mackenna’s knee strike, McMurray can’t push herself up or roll away in time to avoid Rue Ann’s ass turning her Natural Twenties to Natural Ones.



Mackenna stays seated on her Canadian cushion as McMurray lets out a pitiful groan between the Hillbilly’s splayed legs, “Gouhhhoo…” Rue Ann leans down and lightly slaps at her cheek smiling coyly, “ aren’t you glad you asked for this rematch?” Rue rubs in her early domination with a few grinds of her hips on Hazeema’s chest before pushing up. Reaching back down Mackenna pulls up Hazeema by the pigtails for the next phase of ass-whuppin'.



Rue Ann slithers Hazeema’s shaky body and slides her hands into the Canadian’s crotch. Fingers dip beyond the flimsy fabric and rub and explore Hazeema briefly, eliciting a shocked gasp. As if that was the trigger, Rue Ann switches to a double crotch claw and bends back, sending Hazeema spilling in a clumsy variant of the German Suplex. Rue Ann holds Hazeema there just enough for her boobs to dislodge, the DM&M’s dark nipples briefly appearing from their holsters before MacKenna lets her spill to the side.



Rue stands up and rips Hazeema to her hair by her pigtails. She walks to the ropes and runs Hazeema’s face over the top rope and presses her throat down on the rubber-coated steel. Grabbing the middle cable, Rue Ann pulls it over Hazeema’s head and releases it. The dark beauty is trapped and choking. What’s more, the cage isn’t exactly far away so, as she struggles, Hazeema scratches her face against the rough chain links of the cage.



Rue Ann leans down and slips her fingers into the crotch of Hazeema’s gear again. Two fingertips press gently between the DM&Ms unseen lips and begin to dive. Hazeema’s eyes widen at the sensation. Then Rue Ann leans into her ear.



“You shouldn’t have asked for a rematch,” Rue says. Her voice is flat and cold, even unnerving. Her accent is barely there. With no emotion, she continues. “I’m going to fuck you in this ring, Hazeema. I’m going to break you in ways you never dreamed you could be shattered. Every person in this arena is going to watch you stripped, humiliated, penetrated, and humbled. Your friends are going to watch you whittled away to nothing and then, I’m going to invade every opening I can on your gorgeous bruised form. You will be dragged from this ring wet, bleeding, and knowing you never had a chance of stopping me from doing everything I’ve wanted to do to you since we first met.” Rue stands behind Hazeema, grinding her crotch into the trapped manager’s perfect ass. She removes her hand from Hazeema’s nethers, ceasing her tease, and yanks pigtails back. Hazeema gags and flails.



“You’re going to either leave the business tonight or be my little fucking whore for the rest of your life. Maybe both.” With that, Rue drives an elbow into the small of Hazeema’s back, dropping her to her knees. Rue runs to the cables behind them, bounds off them and runs back. She leaps, aiming a bare foot at Hazeema’s crotch. At Hell’s Hillbilly’s words Hazeema’s blood runs cold and her heart beats erratically as fear starts to pick at her resolve. She knew how intense Rue Ann could be from personal experience but with their new friendship, she thought their rematch would be… less bone-chilling at least! Still trapped in the cables against the cage wall Hazeema squirms to get free like a fox in a beartrap, totally willing to chew off a leg to get away from this threatening atmosphere. Hazeema pulls down hard on the top rope getting a modicum of breathing room. Voice hoarse from strangulation and shaking just the tiniest bit, she questions.” Rue?... What the fu-”



The heel of Rue Ann’s barefoot slams into Hazeema’s holiest of holies, thrusting her into the side of the cage. BWANG! The DM&M shrieks as her entire lower half ripples with agony followed by numbness. Her knees buckle and she slumps as much as the choking ropes will allow.



Rue Ann jumps on Hazeema’s back, bouncing like she’s riding a drugged rodeo bull, and immediately begins scratching the manager’s face. For Hazeema, though, this activates something in her. The brutality, the disrespect, the - even though they’re opponents - sense of betrayal. She feels a barbarian’s rage welling up inside her and mentally, she adds hit points to her base score and gives herself a strength and constitution modifier. Reaching up Hazeema buries her claws into Rue’s milky white thighs and rips them out, leaving deep red gashes. The Kentucky girl bellows and falls back, letting Hazeema slip free. While the redhead bends over, cursing at the pain, Hazeema Terminator-walks towards her with new purpose.



Mackenna straightens up with fury in her eyes only for them to water from the Bytch Slap Hazeema CRACKs across her cheek. Nearly losing her balance as her head whips to the side, Rue Ann uses the momentum for a big left hook that’s stopped in its infancy with a Mongolian Chop to the neck.



MONGOLIAN CHOP

www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8ajD4qszaY



Grasping her throat, a choking Rue Ann steps on fenceposts in an inadvertent retreat, getting chopped in the throat makes a body do weird things. Her rage no where near sated, Hazeema gives a retaliatory Double Chop to Mackenna’s large front that, while not as loud as the redhead’s earlier backhand it certainly gets its share of winces from the crowd. Instinctively Mackenna’s hands drop to protect her precious puppies and McMurray tans her other cheek with another CRACKing Bytch Slap! This pimpette hand turns the Kentucky Killer away from her frenemy, the hard catching a rare shot of Rue Ann holding her cheek looking cowed. It also watches her worried expression as Rue Ann is caught in a Full Nelson, lifted off her feet and driven glutes first into the canvas!



BUBBLE BUTT BOMB

www.youtube.com/watch?v=RjwPTfyTZUo



Rue’s certain she’s leaving a perfect imprint of a perfect rural ass on the ring floor when she gets up. Vibrations run up her tailbone through her spine, she could feel Hazeema’s anger behind the move in hand with the searing ache in her tuchas. The redhead’s cry of pain turns into surprise when Hazeema raises her legs under Rue Ann’s armpits and crosses them over her neck, a hold that will require a chiropractor for Mackenna later tonight.



LOTUS LOCK

youtu.be/A9HERoQmbNs?list=PLeRPsdtvusXhWvVG0GUhYwYeACcIwmmfV&t=191



Hazeema pushes off the mat with her hands in a seesaw motion to coax some painful grunts out of the American before resting her buns on the canvas, taking some starch out of the hold for a newly sadist take on a classic. Hazeema raises her hands arches her fingers into claws, holding them threateningly over Mackenna’s back, “You want to get rough? I’m a Rough Rider!”



A hint of the Rue Hazeema thought she knew escapes Rue’s lips. “Well, I do like it rough.” Not amused, Hazeema tightens her legs, causing strain on Rue Ann. Putting tines to spine Hazeema does three quick rakes of Rue Ann’s back, “AIE! AIE! AIEE!” and places them back on the mat for leverage. Reginald drops down beside them.



“What do you say, Rue?” he asks.



“I say… your breath is too minty,” she gags. Reginald instinctively breaths into his hand and smells, confused. Rue Ann’s powerful legs brace against the mat and lift, pushing Hazeema back. The DM&M’s credit, she doesn’t dislodge. But Rue Ann manages to topple them both onto their sides.



Hazeema, no longer having the mat to help crank up the pain, releases the lock. She stands and yanks Rue up by the mane. Hazeema cracks an uppercut into Rue’s mouth, sending her back to the corner. The hick slinks down to the second turnbuckle, dazed, her legs partly spread. Remembering her earlier crotch agony, The Canadian bolts towards Rue and aims a knee for the redneck’s baby holster.



Rue Ann blinks out of her daze and almost voices a plea for mercy for her fun zone, “Whoawhoa!” and darts to the side dodging a debilitating low blow. Hazeema raises her hands in time to touch the turnbuckle safety with her shin. Mackenna throws herself against McMurray’s back and locks in a standing sleeper. McMurray got her chin down in time to keep it from being a match ender but she needs to get out quick or be at the American’s mercy. Ignoring the dainty hands clawing at her choking arm Rue Ann walks them back to the middle of the ring. Growling to the back of Hazeema’s head, a position she plans to be in many times in the future, an amused Mackenna purrs, “looks like you took my advice and learned to fight a little dirtaaIEEE!!”



An electric shock runs through Mackenna’s body as Hazeema’s mule kick hits her center with deadly accuracy. Rue Ann’s hands drop from Hazeema’s neck and cup her nethers. Hazeema takes the hunched Rue Ann’s right wrist and twists it behind her in a loose hammerlock while sidling to the Kentuckian’s left. The DM&M hooks her right leg back and around the hillbilly’s left knee and falls to the side, rolling herself onto her back and Mackenna onto her right arm. The pulling and twisting of her body make Rue bark out a curse and sit up instinctively. Making it easy for McMurray to wrap the hick’s head between her tan calf and thigh and pull back Rue’s free hand by the wrist, putting some major torque on the ginger’s neck and most of her upper body.



MIXED BAG OF HOLDING

youtu.be/K4ySsmLI5Qg?t=59



Rue Ann’s eyes bug out as she starts to feel the pangs of the strange hold playing with her nerves. Gritting her teeth to stop any wussy screams she yells out, “Rahrrrr! I hate this mooove!!!” Hazeema smiles spitefully, a rare thing for her.



“Everybody does.”



Time flows differently for Rue Ann while she’s in the bag, for the observer maybe a minute and a half passes as she sslloowwllly inches across the canvas for a ropebreak, for the Kentuckian, it feels like years. Just close enough to press a toe into the bottom cable she cries out “break!” Hazeema jostles Rue Ann’s neck and arms getting some high-pitched grunts out of the bully, cruelly stating, “Hate to be a rules lawyer but no rope breaks don’t count here.” Close by, the official watches on and confirms. “That’s correct Ms. Mackenna, do you want to call it?”



Rue Ann spits back at the zebra, or should if she could move her neck in his direction. “Not on your life, sexy!”



Hazeema keeps the Yank tortured in the Mixed bag for a count of ten before letting Rue Ann puddle to the canvas. She could have kept the hold going till Rue surrendered, but Hazeema knew it would be a long time before she quit, and Bethany Christian would not abide such a lag on her show. In pro wrestling, you can succeed as both a winner or a loser but you can NEVER be boring. The Pakistani-Canadian pushes off the canvas and adjusts her ring togs to take her pies off the window sill. There’s an audible groan of disappointment from many in the audience and McMurray rolls her eyes. She gives her top an unnecessary adjustment to give them some conciliatory jiggles that are much appreciated before she walks over to collect Rue Ann, the 2nd generation star still groaning on the mat slowly working the kinks out of her body.



Hazeema takes a handful of flame-red hair and uses it as a leash to pull the hillbilly up. With some bass in her voice Hazeema says, “I’m starting to think our friendship doesn’t include much respect if you think you can say that kinda horse hockey to me-AHH!”



Mackenna lands a thunderous chop to some Canadian jubblies, the tremors from the slap threatening to spill Hazeema’s goodies once again. Quickly dipping to take McMurray’s right leg, Hazeema has to hop in place or risk going to ground with the stronger farm girl. Not that staying up was much better. Rue peppered her lesson with more and more overhand chops to Hazeema’s redding chest.



“There ain’t no respect in the ring! SLAP!CRACK! CRACK! You’re either strong enough to survive here or go somewhere safer! CRACK!CRACK!CRACK! You gettin me, girl? Whaa!?”



The High Caster somersaults on her plant foot flipping Rue Ann chest-first onto the canvas. Pinning Rue’s left arm under her thigh Hazeema reaches over to take Rue’s right arm and pulls it under her chin for a self-induced sleeper! Good and pissed now, Hazeema yells “I don’t what this move is called, so I’m naming it Chamomile! Cause it's putting you to sleep!



youtu.be/k5dwOX_Z4H8?list=PLeRPsdtvusXhWvVG0GUhYwYeACcIwmmfV&t=16



Rue grits her teeth as her arm chokes her. Despite all of Rue Ann’s brute strength, Hazeema has her in a hell of a bind. She turns her neck to try to reduce the pressure on her throat and notices Hazeema’s hand is in bite range. She cranes her neck, parts her pearly teeth, and…



Hazeema screeches, “CRIT! CRIT!” as she tries to yank her hand from Rue’s mouth. “Ref, teeth!”



“It’s legal,” Reginald says sadly.



“And one-dee-free dawmage plus free,” Rue mutters through her closed jaws.



Hazeema attempts to weather the pain but it’s just too much and she releases her hold on Rue Ann. Rue, however, doesn’t release her teeth. Instead, she jerks her jaws to the side for extra hurt, without thinking, Hazeema clobbers Rue with her off-hand, scoring max damage. The hillbilly falls to the side, cupping her jaw.



Hazeema gets up, shaking her mitt. She looks around. It seems like no matter what she does, Hell’s Hillbilly seems to absorb the hold and come back snapping - literally. Hazeema’s eyes trail up to the top of the cage to an aluminum bat. Maybe it’s best to end this all as soon as possible.



The DM&M passes her climb check and jumps up the side of the cage, moving at a good speed. She finally reaches the top and extends a hand for the bat, barely touching it with her fingertips. That’s when she feels the cage rocking with heavy footsteps.



Below, Rue Ann has gathered herself up and, seeing Hazeema trying to bring in weapons, bolts to the ropes opposite her opponent. Rue whips herself off the cables and rushes towards Hazeema’s side. Bounding over the ropes, Rue slams into the cage and forces it to start swinging. She hops off the chain-link wall to the canvas and runs across again, timing it to perfectly slam into that side to make the swing more violent. The crowd screams in horror as they watch the tiny might repeat the process a few more times, making the cage dangerously re-enact a pendulum.



In the cage, Reginald has grabbed onto the ropes for dear life, looking seasick. High above, Hazeema has forsaken the bat and clings to the chain-link for dear life. She watches the fans roar below her and feels dizzy and, to her embarrassment, terrified. She knew Rue was wild but this?! She feels her grip on the cage loosening as her head swims. Before she knows it, Hazeema is plummeting in a swinging death trap!



The dark beauty slams into the center of the mat and tumbles uncontrollably, slamming into the cage side, then on the next swing back she bangs her shoulder on the bottom strand, the rubber-coated steel can really injure someone if they don’t hit the cables properly. Hazeema rolls back, managing to stop dead-center of the Squared Circle and pants to catch her breath. She can’t stand up, not while the cage is rocking, not while her heart’s racing. From the corner of her eye, Hazeema sees Rue scaling the cage where she once was. The Dungeon Master flips on her back to keep an eye on her clever foe as Rue’s hand slips into her singlet, under her breast. As the cage does a return swing, Rue cat-leaps from the side of the cage. Hazeema sees a glint of something in Rue’s hand as she soars towards her.



Hazeema’s equilibrium is too off from the fall to move, she stands mouth agape as Mackenna crashes into her! The Kentucky Killer’s knee strategically placed to crush Hazeema’s kitty upon impact, she lets out a howl to the heavens that turns into a groan when Mackenna’s body slaps down on hers on the rebound, the American’s large chest pancaking Hazeema’s against her ribs. Heel or not, the crowd loves a high spot. They shower Rue Ann Mackenna with cheers as she straddles her writhing prey. Drinking in the sight of a timid Hazeema whimpering under her, Rue Ann lifts her head off the matt by a pigtail “I’ll admit, you’re tougher than you were in our last go around,” she presses a light kiss to Hazeema’s temple that appeared to be, and was, genuine. “Let’s see if that Valkyrie of yours taught you some free Object handling…”



MacKenna raises the metal gimmick in her hand and brings it done hard on McMurray’s cheek, the trapped Canadian yells out of pain but mostly out of fear. Going by the rural ravager’s speech earlier she expected some kind of combination hammer/cheese grater. She blinks confused, eyes darting around answers and weakly slapping at Mackenna’s arms.



Rue grins, muscling Hazeema’s hand down so she can trap them between her thighs. “Don’t get the joke? Hang on. “She takes Hazeema by the chin and points her face toward the FAWNtron, now emblazoned in red across her cheek was ‘MADE IN AMERICA’ It was a rubber stamp.



Hazeema is incensed! “You dirty Yankee! I’ll- AHH! AHH! RAHHH!” Rue Ann brings the stamp down over and over, making sure as much of Hazeema’s creamy skin as possible tells the same, clear message. Even taking Hazeema’s breasts out of their sheath for the second time tonight. She gives each nipple a teasing tweak before hammering the stamp down and grinding it in, each areola a tempting target.



Hazeema’s face is nearly as red as the ink on her tits, “Too far! She hisses, “Grrwarrrr!” The rage-fueled Canuck frees her hand and takes a swipe at Rue Ann’s face. The ginger rolls back catching her feet in McMurray’s gut. She flips Hazeema over, grabbing the pigtails as the Canadian is directly above her. Hazeema slams to the canvas, shaking the cage even more. Rue Ann flips on top of her.



“Just remember, Hazzy,” Rue giggles in her twang. “Yer the apple of my eye!” She brings the stamp down, handle-first, into Hazeema’s left eye. The bellow of fury from the pinned woman would send most people running. She manages to knock the stamp from Rue Ann’s hand, sending it from the cage into the fans. Hazeema watches it go, clutching her eye. She glares back up at Rue just in time to catch a bitch slap on the right cheek.



Rue hops up to her feet then jumps, tucking her legs up. She drives both knees into Hazeema’s gut, winding her. The beauty rolls to her side and gapes for air. Rue smiles at the ceiling. “Toy time!” she laughs as she scampers up the side of the cage. Eyeing the myriad of goodies available, Rue Ann bites her tongue in concentration as she looks for the right tool for the right level of pain and humiliation. Hazeema is her friend, after all. Rue wants her hurt but not injured, passing on the steel chair, barbed wire bat, and horsewhip (what the hell, Bethany?) she spies something made of wood.



“Well, hello there... “



As Mackenna searches for just the right tool Hazeema crawls over to the eastern side of the ring and digs her hand into the ring skirt, searching for something hidden. She smiles almost maniacally as her fingers brush something solid, Hazeema takes hold and pulls up an object long and hard, she stashed this sucker away while the ring was being set up. McMurray grumbles under her breath. “Baseball Valkyrie was a good teacher. Kids-skate is over bud…”



Rue Ann Mackenna lands back on the canvas with a ‘thump’ turning to face the Canadian with a bit of a smirk, holding a polished cricket bat in her hands. Giving it a twirl she muses, “I don’t see the ‘Miriam Gaimen Approved’ insignia, so we’ll have to really put this spanking paddle through its paces to test how much…” Rue trails off when she spots the small hole in the ring skirt and sees Hazeema has prepared a weapon way ahead of match time. Mackenna giggles, “Well aren’t you cute! You little stereotype!”



Holding a black, Toronto Maple Leafs branded hockey stick in both hands, The Northern Coalition member looks reenergized and ready to fight. Hazeema thrusts it forward a few times like she’s backing away a cherry picker from her team’s zone. She flicks her thumb near the blade and makes a clicking sound with her tongue, “Safety's off, girl. Get ready for some Biscuits Top Titties Bardownskis!”



Rue Ann’s face goes blank and she stares confused at the curvy Canuck, “wha?” Hazeema rolls her eyes. No appreciation for hockey in this country, “I'm gonna beat your ass!” Mackenna blinks and nods in understanding, “Ahh, okay. I get ya. Hyiahh!” With a yell that was mostly for fun. Rue rushes forward with Hazeema mirroring her charge, the two clashing with their weapons grinding against each other in an X. For a good 20 seconds, they circle in a contest of force, only separating briefly to ‘clunk!” back together. The morning after a fan will upload this clip of the match with ’Duel of The Fates’ playing over it. They separate a little farther this time, Hazeema holds the stick high for a downward strike like a samurai warrior and high steps into her swing. The American is fully ignorant of the sport her weapon’s for and escapes to the side with the cricket bat on her shoulder like Rex Hudler for a shot across the back, but McMurray senses it coming and swiftly brings her hockey stick to an angle behind her; protecting her neck and spine.



The redhead mentally shrugs and swings her cricket bat with the practice of a golf pro, SMACKing the flat side of the bat across Hazeema’s glorious glutes. With a squeaky yelp Hazeema stumbles forward and looks over and a giggling Rue, hindquarters still jiggling. The hillbilly is bright and unapologetic, “You know you like it!”



Hazeema glares, not wanting to dignify the slight truth to that statement. Instead, she swings the flat side of her hockey stick, slapping Rue across her boobs. Her tits dislodge from her top for the world to see. McMurray smirks. “You know you like it,” she replies.



“Touché,” Rue says. She lunges forward with the cricket bat but a childhood of street hockey serves Hazeema well. She deftly blocks, pushing the bat to the side, and brings the stick’s blade across Rue’s eyes. The Kentucky Killer is blinded, giving Hazeema a shot to trip her. As Rue falls to the canvas, Hazeema drives the tip of the stick’s head straight between her legs. Rue Ann gasps. Too shocked and hurt at that moment to scream.



And then the blade slams across Rue’s jaws, sending a spray of spit and red across the ring.



“Sorry, Yank,” Hazeema gloats. “But you brought the wrong gear to the wrong sport.”



Rue Ann licks her teeth to make sure she had the same number she started with, “We’ll see if you feel that way when I jam the big end of this thing up your asAHH!” The DM&M pounces on the prone bully ramming her hockey stick lengthwise across her chest. She bisects those pale mountains twice more before pressing down hard, doing her damndest to turn Rue into the lucky cousin of that alien in Total Recall. Mackenna’s heels beat a frantic beat against the canvas as her puppies are treated most unfairly. “Is this payback for when I stomped on your titties from the post? AIEEE!!” Teeth bared in anger Hazeema uses her stick like a rolling pin up and down the expanse of Mackenna’s chest, then upped her pain play by lining the hockey stick across Rue’s nipples and rubbing the stick side to side rapidly. She wanted those nips to be as red as Rue’s hair when she was done! She spits in Mackenna’s face “Not till you reminded me!”



Rue was in mid reply explaining she planned to make up for that with several lewd acts but was cut off when the Coalitionist switched targets and brought the stick down on her neck for an extended choke. Lapsed rules in this stipulation or not, Ref. Worthington had to draw a line somewhere. Kneeling near their heads he spoke, “I’m afraid choking is still frowned upon in this setting, miss. You’ll have to break that now.” McMurray broke the crude laminectomy without complaint, “just softening her up, sir.” pushing off the canvas with her stick Hazeema kicks away the cricket bat. Rue Ann was too busy coughing to stop her, but she wouldn’t have tried anyway. Cricket didn’t seem to be her game.



Rue Ann rolls over onto all fours and pushes herself up. The tip of the hockey stick’s handle bites deep into the small of Rue Ann’s back. She flattens to the canvas. Hazeema straddles Rue’s torso, hauls back, and slams the stick so hard across the hillbilly’s crown it snaps! Looking sadly at the broken stick, Hazeema sighs. She drops to her knees and rips the splintered wood down MacKenna’s spine.



“AAAIEFUCKFUCKSHITFUCK!!”



After Rue stops shrieking and cursing, Hazeema sadly flings the stick’s remnants aside. “Time to submit, Kit,” Hazeema spits. “Your night ride’s over.” Grinding her knees in the red wound she’d made on Rue’s back, Hazeema cups the woman’s chin and cranks back in a rough Camel Clutch.



Reginald, again, is on the mat. “Do you--”



“NO!” Rue Ann barks, all snide jokes gone. She reaches up with an unsteady hand and grabs at Hazeema’s fingers, trying to bend them all backwards. Her first attempt does nothing but annoys the DND Darling, so Hazeema cranks that camel further with a searing dig of the knee into the spine for good measure. Rue’s third attempt gets some success, prying Hazeema’s right middle finger away from her chin and near 90 degrees before the Canadian breaks the clasp and THUNKs Rue Ann’s head into the mat. Stepping on Mackenna’s back on route to the corner she climbs up to snag another weapon. This one a long swath of black leather with a grooved handle for gripping. On one side of the strip it was detailed Gaiman Approved, on the other, Sanders Tested. Hopping down from the top ropes the slightest of tremors goes through the elevated cage, McMurray walks toward a hobbling Rue Ann, slowly crawling away from the crazed Canadian. Hazeema’s eyes lock on her alabaster ass. The pigtailed pulveriser takes a handful of ring togs with one hand as she raises the whipping leather in the air to a raucous cheer, “Let’s see how you like it.”



Hazeema brings the strap down and Rue reaches up, grabbing her attacker’s wrist. The DM&M didn’t expect this and stares slack-jawed. Rue pushes herself up in a flash and yanks Hazeema forward into a brutal sucker punch. The ring rookie folds, dropping the strap.



“I like it just fine,” Rue Ann says. She headbutts Hazeema in the mouth, shoving her in the corner. Rue bends down and scoops up the strap. Hazeema doesn’t want the power dynamic to shift and rushes forward, only to be clocked right across the jaw again. Hazeema spins and stops, facing the corner. The hillbilly raises the strap and brings it down across Hazeema’s back.



CRACK!



The strap reverberates across the arena. Still, Rue looks disappointed. “We can do better.” She plants a foot in Hazeema’s back and rips at the fabric of her gear, pulling it till it tears. In moments, Hazeema is stripped to her waist. The strap comes down again, and again on McMurray’s bare back. The manager turns, desperately trying to block the blows. MacKenna answers with a punch in the throat followed by a fist sinking deep into Hazeema’s gut. All air drives from her lungs and she slumps.



“Now,” Rue hisses, “now we have fun.” She grabs Hazeema’s legs and yanks, flipping her upside down. She hoists her broken toy up into a tree of woe. Fingers trace Hazeema’s pussy. “Pleasure or pain,” Rue says. She smiles. “Let’s go for both.”



With that ominous goal set, she cracks the whip across Hazeema’s tummy. At the first touch of leather to flesh the manager turns from highly trained wrestler to little girl, Hazeema shudders violently and shrieks! Rue gives her another slash painting her stomach with a light red welt McMurray frantically tries to cover as much of her midsection with her arms, Mackenna drops a knee on the Canadian’s forehead to stun her. Taking her wrists Rue Ann places them atop each other and keeps them pinned with her foot as she tees off Hazeema’s body with the strap. Not swinging with her full strength to avoid breaking skin, Rue travels up and down with the leather adding large stripes of red flesh to mix in with the Made in America stamps. Pausing every few hits to tickle and tease Hazeema’s slit to confuse her senses. Rue gives two slow, deliberate shots to each of McMurray’s breasts, the rookie’s howls making the audience flinch. Mackenna presses in close touching tummy north to south and gives Hazeema’s center a Loooong lick, with a little dart of the tongue to her love button before untying her legs letting her fall into a shuddering matchbook.



Mackenna picks McMurray back up and re-ties her in the tree of woe, this time McMurray’s tearful face toward the cage and her bodacious butt eye-level with Rue Ann. The whipping sapped the strength out of the Canuck’s arms so they droop onto the mat lifelessly. Rue rubs her hands across McMurray’s rump roast, groping and pinching. Digging her nails and jostling the cheeks, “when was your birthday? I think I owe you a spanking.”



The crack across Hazeema’s ass filled the arena. If the ring post weren’t blocking her face the FAWNatics would see how agonized and embarrassed she was at her current predicament. Another crack followed, the Canuck’s generous rear proportions shaking back and forth. A third crack and Hazeema screams out in pain. Rue drops to be next to Hazeema’s ear.



“That’s what I’ve been wanting,” she growls. “But save your voice. You’ve got a lot of screaming to do and I’d hate for you to get hoarse.”



Rue stands and traces a line around Hazeema’s womanhood. “But this is the real prize, isn’t it?” The hillbilly can feel Hazeema’s body tense at her touch. “Oh, baby, no. It’ll feel so good. You won’t even mind the fact you’re losing to me.” She drives a knee between Hazeema’s shoulder blades. “And, make no mistake. You’re losing. Badly.” The redhead starts to slip her fingers under the fabric to dig for Hazeema’s treasure but she stops. A weird look crosses Rue’s face. “No. Not now. The time’s wrong,” she mutters.”



Hazeema waits in confusion as she feels the shake of Rue’s feet walking away from her. Was that… empathy? Pity? Hazeema didn’t know what to make of it, but she absolutely knew what to make of what came next - a missile dropkick to the back. Hazeema grunts as her breasts are sandwiched into the turnbuckle before her legs dislodge and she topples to the mat, landing in a jumble.



The tremors of the ring floor travel through Hazeema’s body causing all manner of jiggling through her still and puddled form. Rue Ann takes a moment to catch a breath and clear the fog of lust clouding her mind. The randy redhead takes a seat on the middle cable and fans herself, her whipping arm dangling but Rue’s grip around her favourite toy remains firm. Reginald Worthington drops beside the beleaguered Hazeema and places a hand on her shoulder, “Ms. McMurray, do you want me to stop the match? You fought bravely but there’s no sense in getting injured, you have a long career ahead of you.” The rich, delightfully accented voice of the much thirsted-after referee rouses Hazeema from her haze. Worthington’s presence did little to calm the fire Rue Ann had stoked in her nethers and in fact, enhanced it. Pushing all distracting thoughts away Hazeema places her hand on the mat and slowly powers to hands and knees. Murmuring to the official, “Not yet… I still have a chance.” Biting the inside of his bottom lip Reginald stands and turns to an approaching Rue, “Match stipulations aside, and job be darned, if Hazeema doesn’t show some offence or if I think your punching down, I’m stopping this fight.”



To his surprise the notorious heel acquiesced, quietly answering, “Okay. That’s fair.” Her shifting moods of “lecherous bully” and “stone-cold mauler” fading to reveal a deeply conflicted woman, staring off to the middle distance before re-steeling herself. Rue Ann works the ends of McMurray’s pigtails around her the fingers of her free hand and sets on a stroll along the perimeter of the ring, the nude and sore Canuck yelps as she feels her hair being yanked from her scalp as she’s fully dragged for three steps, her abused nipples running over the coarse canvas. Hazeema is forced into a swift trot on all fours or risk a scalping, the young rookie promenades like an out of shape dog on a leash. Rue Ann swings her leather strap above her head in a wide circle, yelling out through a torrent of boos, “Let give a hand for Hazeema! She fought a good match, right folks!?”



This seemingly disingenuous show of support brings forth scathing hatred from the FAWNatics. The vast majority of the audience letting loose with hisses, boos, insults and damning assessments of her mother’s social life. Even the subtle undulations of Hazeema’s nude body only drew a few whistles and catcalls so strong was the fans ire for Rue Ann Mackenna. The Kentucky Killer fumed, not because she was hated by the crowd. That was normal. She wanted the crowd to encourage her current victim and hopefully future lover. Mackenna knows if the crowd gets behind Hazeema the Coalitionist could lose 100 matches and Bethany Christian would still book her. Subconsciously pulling harder on the yelping Hazeema’s pigtails Rue Ann increases her pace. The crane-held camera following behind the pair zooms in on The Dungeon Master’s farm strong backside as she crawls behind her enemy. Mackenna angrily whips at the cage walls trying to urge the audience to support the babyface, “Come on, you city-dwelling shit sippers! Show some damn love to this womaAAH!”



All this disrespect has McMurray’s blood up. She whips an arm through MacKenna’s legs, not for an entirely justified low blow, but to perform the most dangerous move in all of professional wrestling…



ROLL UP

www.youtube.com/watch?v=FA6nJe_bHWM



“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUC-!!” Mackenna swore like a sailor’s drunken father, clawing and kicking at the air ferociously to get out from under a nude Hazeema’s weight (something Rue would never think she’d do).



ONE!!



TWO!!!



THRE- RUE KICKS OUT!!!!



The agrarian American goes into a full handstand kicking out of the pin! Rue flops onto her stomach and gets to her feet as Hazeema pushes off a knee to CLAP Rue’s breasts with an overhand chop. When Mackenna crosses her arms over her trembling jubblies The DM&M takes the back of the ginger’s neck and pulls her into a battery of kneelifts to the gut. With Mackenna’s paunch properly pulverized Hazeema shoves the hillbilly’s head down and her left armpit, working her arms under Rue’s and resetting the clasp to secure a Reverse Full nelson. Hazeema adds on more blows keep her stunned, this time pumping her the broadside of her left thigh into Rue’s softening middle. Judging that the American has the right noodle-like consistency, McMurray pops her hips lifting Rue off her feet and onto her captor. Now shins to thighs with the submission disciplined Canadian. Hazeema cranks on the hold, shifting side to side and bouncing on her toes to make the pressure on Rue Ann’s neck unbearable. Too occupied to keep her voice steady to sound menacing, Hazeema warns, “I’m gonna knock you out now, and you wake you’ll be buying all the beer after my hand gets raised.” The High Caster of the City in The Sky jumps up as high as she can, kicking her legs out and dropping on her splendidly generous ass cheeks. Rue Ann gets a much harsher landing, her tailbone getting a rattling that travels up her spine and spreading numbness to her extremities!



DRACONIAN DROP

youtu.be/9ZhkjrIqRZU?t=117



Mackenna falls on her back between McMurray’s stems, arms flat and head lolling. McMurray throws one of Rue’s legs aside and pulls the other one in as she climbs aboard in a backpress cover. Her bare breasts pulling at her chin, the MADE IN AMERICA ink stamps are still visible among the whip marks.



ONE!!



TWO!!!



THRE- NOOO!!!



Rue shoves her way out of the pin and turns onto her side, Hazeema stares dumbfounded at Referee Worthington as he holds up two fingers. She huffs through her nose and shoves herself onto her haunches.



Rue affords Hazeema a weary smile. “Nice of you to join us, Ms. McMurray.” The ginger’s face flickers to almost concern. “Was worried you’d given up.”



She starts to push up but Hazeema gets up first, driving a knee between Rue’s eyes. “Concern noted,” Hazeema replies, glaring down at Rue Ann. She rolls Rue onto her stomach and grabs a leg, pulling it back in a half-crab. Rue pounds the mat, obviously finally getting worn down. McMurray hates to admit it, but a lot of that is just from working her over. Still, she refuses to submit.



Hazeema draws in a long, deep breath. This pipsqueak is tougher than makes sense. She thinks about all the humiliation MacKenna has dished out on her and glares. Maybe… it’s time for payback.



Hazeema raises a hand and brings it down between Rue’s legs. Rue screams at the twat swat. The scream gets the fans to cheer. The cheers fuel Hazeema, who begins slapping down harder and faster like “fire crotch” is less an insult to gingers, and more a condition Rue has and she’s trying to beat out the flames!



Finally, Hazeema releases, letting Rue Ann’s leg slap against the canvas. “Still with me?” Hazeema asks. Receiving no answers, she shrugs “No troubles, Bubbles.” Rue slowly pushes up and starts to crawl to the ropes, hoping to pull herself up and start returning fire. A forearm slips under her throat and yanks her back into a chinklock. Hazeema’s hot, angry breath hits the back of Rue’s head. “Now, I get to have fun.”



Power courses through the Canadian python circling Rue’s neck, a few vengeful squeezes and jerks before McMurray pulls her voluptuous cargo up with the chinlock and backtracks deeper into the ring. Keeping the redhead tucked in her arm, Hazeema turns away and drops to the mat, Rue’s strong back bending across the rookie’s.



INVERTED HEADLOCK BACKBREAKER

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ljr6aTgdR4A



Mackenna recoils off Hazeema with her feet flat on the canvas, for a moment it’s like she’s in an invisible lounge chair before ‘thawping’ listlessly on her back, Faced scrunched in pain. The tiniest of tears in the corners of her shut eyes, Rue Ann tries to massage her neck and back at the same time. Sputtering out, “Y-you… arGHHOO!” Rue Ann’s eyes and mouth pop open wide as Hazeema drops shins first on her stomach. The Kentucky Killer bellows out and turns onto her side when McMurray gets off with a kneeling flip, Rue’s feet kick erratically as her insides settle to their default settings. Hazeema almost covers her frenemy but holds back. It’d be a waste of time she thinks, the manager of The Northern Coalition looks around the ceiling of the raised cage for a match-ending weapon. It’s got to be unexpected, effective... Hazeema spies something oddly shaped hanging above the nearest corner and a bright smile grows across her face. Hilarious. Mackenna powers to hands and knees before she’s collapsed with an elbow drop, pushing off the redhead’s shoulder blades McMurray scurries towards the turnbuckles and climbs like she hasn’t been fighting a war for the last twenty minutes.



Rue Ann plants a fist against the canvas and powers to her knees, wiping a hand over her perspiring face, “dammit, ma will have my hide for showboatin’ before the match is over...” Not feeling a storm of tiny fists or the torture being contorted into a 3D puzzle, Rue Ann rightly believes Hazeema has gone to the high rent district. Leaping to her feet with far more vitality than she should, Rue Ann has a fist cocked back and ready to knock McMurray from the sky… and she freezes. Descending from the wrasslin heavens is Hazeema; backlit by the house lights so in Rue’s eyes she is unto an angel. Slightly frayed, brown pigtails flying in the wind, bare bosom bouncing on her chest, firm legs bowed back like she’s a mid slam dunk for the Toronto Raptors, and a face twisted in a strangely beautiful snarl. It’s not this striking visage that stops Rue Ann Mackenna, oh no. It's that Hazeema McMurray is swinging down a large, grinning, FAWN-approved pinata of Rue’s former partner in crime and betrayer, Trisha Belle!



TRISHA BELLE





In what could only be seen as an act of karmic retribution for her heelish ways, Rue’s flabbergasted face is rammed inside the pinata! Stumbling to a seat on the ground, the party game covers her entire head from the neck up. The Trisha Belle pinata is more cartoonish than realistic, the style could be described as ‘chibi’. With the legs and arms out wide, it looked like Rue Ann attempted an Electric Chair maneuver that went HORRIBLY wrong.



The humor of the situation is replaced with gasps of horror from the FAWNatics as Hazeema charges the blind, stumbling Rue Ann with a baseball bat. She slams the Louisville slugger across Rue’s covered face. The pinata explodes into pieces, sending paper project Trisha in all directions. But no candy came out. Thankfully, neither did Rue’s brains. Instead, silver toy jacks proliferated everywhere, skittering all around the ring and out into the fans. Many, however, stay embedded in Rue’s face. She dizzily looks to Hazeema, who cut off any quip she had with a boot that sinks the barbed toys in more and knocks Rue backwards.



Rue falls to her back and Hazeema falls on top of her, draping her tired form across the ginger and raising her hand in triumph.



ONE…



TWO…



THRE--



Rue shoves her shoulder up. Hazeema looks down, completely horrified. “HOW, RUE?!” She demands.



“It… wasn’t easy,” the redneck says, pulling bloody jacks from her cheek. “Cuz your tits felt real nice on me.”



Hazeema starts to yell, but something in Rue’s dopey grin makes her laugh. And that makes Rue laugh back. Moments later, they’re cackling.



The referee looks at both women nervously. “Are you two okay?” he asks.



Hazeema, still laughing, shakes her head. “No, we’re really not.”



“Not even close,” Rue cackles, picking more jacks out.



With a sigh of exhaustion, Hazeema takes Rue’s picking arm and forces it into a hammerlock, grunting “Come on up!” Forcing Mackenna to her feet by the Chickenwing she wrenches on it before Irish whipping the perplexing brawler to a set of ropes. Racing after her Hazeema drops to her buns in a straight-legged seat and sweeps Rue’s her legs out from under her on the return trip. Mackenna gets her hands up in time to break her fall, but not the low flying, Single Leg Dropkick Hazeema blasts her cheek with. The remaining steel jacks fly off Rue’s face and sprawl on the canvas, Ref. Worthington does his duty and collects a few of them before someone gets a foot injury or worse.



youtu.be/hl0aT4gB-bc?t=16



McMurray’s running out of ideas, but she’s trying not to let that slip to Mackenna. Taking the woozy Kentuckian in a facelock Hazeema takes her up and spikes her down with a snap DDT, Rue Ann slumps forward on the mat, her rump raised in the air before slinking down. Hazeema shoves Rue onto her front and gets up. No point in trying for a pin until she’s mush. Giving a stomp to the forehead as a parting gift, Hazeema who’s too tired to run at this point quickly hobbles to the nearest corner for a Frog Splash. Not one of her usual moves but this has been a night of firsts for the Letterkenny Farmgirl.



As the DM&M climbs Rue Ann stirs, either awakened by the growing roar of the crowd or by the restless itching of tiny cuts from the jacks, shaking her head she mutters, “someone in the back is getting a fisting tomorrow…” picking a Jack out from an uncomfortable place. Perched on the top ropes Hazeema slowly rises, the cries of the FAWNatics hitting a fever pitch! Raising a fist in the air for luck Hazeema takes to the air like a proud Canadian goose! Hazeema spreads herself wide in the air for maximum- Rue Ann bolts up and catches Hazeema in a fireman’s carry!!



Hazeema kicks and flails for all the good it does but Rue marches her to a large cluster of jacks. “You want down?” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she drops McMurray in a Fireman’s Carry Facebuster.



FIREMAN CARRY FACEBUSTER:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLOeoQQm7hw



The ring and cage shake with Hazeema’s body slamming into the plywood. She feels the tiny steel barbs of scattered Jacks sink into her half-naked body, vanishing down her cleavage, and bellows.



Rue sits on her back and drapes Hazeema’s arms across her knees. She pulls Hazeema back into a camel clutch with one slight alteration. Rue’s fingers dive into The High Caster’s mouth for a mandible claw. She pulls back so hard that fans expect to hear a snap from Hazeema’s back. Reginald shuffles over, kicking jacks about, and bows to check.



“Miss Hazeema, do you want to end this?” he pleads, unable to watch much more.



Hazeema vigorously shakes her head a “no.”



Rue Ann, however, admires the jacks Reginald knocked closer. “Hey, Zebra. Thanks.”



“For what?” he asks.



Rue Ann releases the mandible claw, palms the back if Hazeema’s head, and faceplants her into the jacks. Reginald looks in horror as Rue grinds Hazeema’s shrieking face back into the mess.



“Don’t you think that’s enough?” Reginald demands.



“Did you hear a submission?” Rue replies coldly.



He did not, but he did hear Hazeema’s chilling, muffled screams as the jacks changed the topography of her face. Reginald almost called for the match to end for the Pakistani-Canadian’s safety when Mackenna stopped of her own volition. Standing in a straddle of the writhing Canuck Rue pulls on her pigtails to show Hazeema’s wracked front to the cringing crowd, trees flowing down her cheeks, she sported a few small cuts of her own and more than few jacks hanging on like mountaineers to her face and breasts. Rue Ann lets go of a pigtail and uses the hand to wipe away the toys from McMurray’s form. Her voice eerily calm, Rue asked, “Alright. How about a Meat Shower and we call it a day?”



Hazeema couldn’t give a coherent answer, she was too mentally shaken by the face grinding. Only letting out jumbled sounds of pain and refusal as Mackenna grabbed the underside of a tit and lifted her to her feet by a breast and a pigtail. Half dragging her near the corner Rue Ann reaches over, setting a gutwrench hold to plant the Dungeon Master with a sidewalk slam, get her good and horizontal for the hillbilly’s finisher; an Avalanche Seated Senton with a Front Sleeper for dessert.



Feeling the American’s arms loop across her belly and lift her in the air, fear and desperation run cold through McMurray’s veins. Pain is momentarily forgotten and Hazeema pumps a knee into Rue Ann’s large chest, one doesn’t do more than make a distracting wobble in the redhead’s mammaries so Hazeema does it again, and again, and again! The fifth knee’s the charm, Rue drops McMurray into a rough crabwalk and staggers back clutching her abused titty. Hazeema gets up with a growl that turns into a yell as she cracks Mackenna with a left hook. Mackenna fires back but Hazeema blocks and gives a solid jab to the breadbasket. Taking Rue Ann by the back of the head McMurray pulls her into a run and slams her headfirst into a side of the cage. Bwang! The chain-link bend outward and rattle but the hanging cage stays steady, Rue falls into a deep lean on the top rope, her heavy breasts hanging over the cable. A wordless cry of impending victory comes out of Hazeema this time, grabbing Rue and running her across the canvas for another cage thro- Rue reverses! Hell’s hillbilly nearly takes the coalitionist off her feet with a kneelift to the navel. Taking her by the scruff of the neck and meaty butt cheek, Mackenna gives her the bum’s rush into the other side of the cage. BWANG! The sound of McMurray hitting metal was much louder than Rue’s impact, and the cage trembled more visibly. Hazeema falls to her knees on the inside of the ring, weakly grabbing for something to stop the room from spinning. Mackenna doesn’t give her the time, picking her up by the back of the neck she gives the rookie a fast and painful trip to the third cage wall. BWANG!A harsher impact than before, the structure visibly tilts in the direction of the throw. Hazeema puddles on the ring’s apron against the rough chain link fence, twitching. Rue takes McMurray by the head and pulls her back and up. The manager’s legs, while wobbling, still had life in them. So, Rue does what she has to. Rue Ann Mackenna practically throws Hazeema through the 4th and last untouched wall of the cage. BWANG!! The structure very noticeably moving with the rookie’s splatter. The crowd groans and pales when McMurray hits the steel like wet pasta, trailing down awkwardly till she settles under the bottom cable.



Rue looks down at Hazeema. It’s clearly done. She just needs to do the paperwork. She picks up and drops the Canadian a few feet from a ring post. She climbs it. Rue Ann leaps and lands in Hazeema’s stomach. As Hazeema folds up, Rue Ann grabs her face and stuffs it in her breasts for a smother. Rue’s finisher. The Meat Shower.



Reginald lifts Hazeema’s wrist. It flops.



Reginald lifts Hazeema’s wrist again. It flops.



Reginald lifts Hazeema’s wrist one last time.



It flops.



The bell sounds. “YOUR WINNER, BY KNOCKOUT… RUE ANN MACKENNA!”



The fans boo as loud as they can while the cage is slowly lowered. Rue Ann rises, drinking in the hate, then looks at Reginald. “Wake her.”



“I think enough--”



Rue spins on him. “FUCK YOU, WAKE HER! She AGREED to this. She will be AWAKE for this.”



The official looks livid but he knows it’s true. He stoops and attempts to round Hazeema.



He kneels beside the ruined beauty. Nude, bruised, covered in whip marks, red ink, and scratches from Jacks. Depending on what Rue does next, this could be the end of McMurray’s career. When Reginald’s gentle prodding doesn’t rouse Hazeema he reaches into his back pocket for a capsule and breaks it under her nose.



“GUHFfKk!!”



With a snort, Hazeema is driven violently awake. Eyes blinking unfocused, Hazeema looks around and sees that the cage is back to its terrestrial setting. Crestfallen she turns to Worthington, asking sadly, “I lost, didn’t I?” He nods solemnly, putting a hand on her shoulder, “You did. But you put on an amazing show, miss.”



Rue shoves Reginald out of the way. “Bets a bet. You're mine to do with as I please. As everyone watches. No help. No stopping till I’m pleased.” She crosses her arms. “Or do you want out?”



Hazeema looks down. “No. No, you won. I made the wager. I’m… I’m yours to do with as you please.” She braces for the worst FAWN can offer. Her morale is crushed. She waits for the woman she thought of as kind of a friend to begin the humiliation. The betrayal.



A hand cups Hazeema’s chin. Her face is lifted to greet Rue Ann’s, who is beaming a warm, loving smile. “You did great, Maple Tits. Proud of you.”



Rue Ann leans down and gives Hazeema a long, tender kiss, holding her naked body close. Then, when she pulls back, Rue Ann rises, walks to the cage door, opens it, and leaves.



Hazeema is dumbstruck. Staring after the exiting Rue Ann with lips tingling. She shakes out of her daze and looks at the equally confused, yet relieved official. Very frazzled she exclaims, “What the Doug Ford!?” Reginald shrugs his massive shoulders, “I have no idea, but I’m glad for it. Let’s get you some medical attention, eh miss?”



Before she answers Hazeema’s teammates in The Coalition break through the curtains. La Sombra runs full speed to check on her friend while Olunike Waite walks more leisurely, carrying two six-packs of Puppers. As Rue passes Waite breaks one off and offers it with a silent nod of respect. Rue Ann waves it away politely, “No thanks, you guys go celebrate. We just had a major Mania moment.”



Waite nods again, knowing this was a pivotal moment for Rue for a number of reasons observed, but unsaid. When the tall drink of Eska enters the ring, she passes a beer to Sombra and Hazeema, who were hugging and happy crying, and one to Worthington who was too polite to decline.



Backstage, Rue Ann feels a robe placed over her shoulders. She knows who it is instantly.



“Thanks, Mama,” she says quietly.



JOLENE MACKENNA:





“Hell of a fight,” the elder MacKenna says. “You beat her to a pulp.”



“She did the same to me,” Rue adds as she walks to her dressing room.



After a pause, Jolene states, “You didn’t finish her off.”



“Yes, I did,” Rue Ann corrects. “The rules said I got to do whatever I wanted with her. I did. Isn’t that the way of your old stable? Hedonism wasn’t a group about just fucking, it was about getting exactly what you wanted.” She looks up at her mother. “I did that.”



“It’s a bad plan, girl,” Jolene says. “The good ‘uns, they’re trouble.”



“You were a good un’,” Rue reminds her mom.



“And when I needed them, not a damned one was there for me. Girls like her, baby, they got their friends. You’re an addition, nothin’ more.” The walk into Rue’s dressing room where Jolene begins working on wounds. “I never knew sisterhood till I gave that life up. Girls like that Sinclair girl, or Bunny whatever, or them Londons - they care about you until you even look dingy ‘cuz they don’t HAVE to care about you. But the girls who get their hands dirty… they’re the ones who get friendship. Who get love.”



“Okay, Mama,” Rue replies.



Jolene sighs. “I always knew you were gonna be trouble.” She pecked Rue’s forehead. “That’s why I love you, I guess.”



Rue says nothing, just stared out the dressing room window, tasted the flavor of another woman on her lips, and regrets not kissing her longer.