Post by SammieSinclair on Sept 14, 2014 19:48:42 GMT
...Mary could scarcely believe that she was doing it, the painfully shy young competitor, a teen still on the cusp of womanhood hurtling her miniature mass across the ring at increasingly breakneck speeds. She was smiling, her timid nature being momentarily beaten into submission by her own adrenaline and pounding heart, her sneakered feet pitter pattering across the canvas as her athletic stems, wrapped in leg warmers right up to her knees, encouraged her to sprint faster than she had ever run before.
Mary 'Mouse' Sinclair
The FAWNatics cheered, filling the small arena with nothing but goodwill as the latest addition to their affections turned into a red headed blur, cheeks flushed an equally bashful crimson. She hit the ropes as hard as she could manage, momentum thankfully making up for a general lack of might and the coils contorted to their maximum extension, snapping back and launching the Angel of the Isle towards her first ever professional opponent at a ludicrous pace.
She could scarcely believe that she was doing it, the Little Sister of FAWNS Lightweight Champion, the Little Sparrow, about to win her first ever match. Mary measured her pace as she had watched her elder sibling do a thousand times before and leapt, her sash of sapphire blue billowing in her self propelled breeze as she dived into a delightful cross body press!
Sascha Savarino clearly had other plans, the exotically stunning temptress pushing upwards from her forced penitence on one knee and right back up to standing, twisting her beguilingly curvaceous frame about and spreading her arms out wide. She snatched the Hurricane Heroine right out the air like the Featherweight the younger woman was and snapped them both about in a wickedly sharp spiral, slamming the far smaller frame of her opponent spine first into the mat!
Sascha Savarino
Mary barely had time to flutter her heart in panic as she gasped and kicked her sublimely athletic stems in mid flight. As she was making her suddenly disastrous descent, she shook her head and ‘MEEPED!’ in fear, those fleeting attempts to escape unsurprisingly proving fruitless. The cheers of the FAWNatics collectively caught in their throats and turned to groans, Mary answering them with a bellowing “GASP!” as she was slammed back first into the canvas, the much stronger frame of Savarino following a mere moment later to further batter her already battered body.
Sascha popped away from the ring rattling impact with a sneer that was sickeningly self indulgent, the Villainous Violet up onto her knees and then her soft, overly comfortable booties in short order. Mary remained fallen, whimpering as she arched her pounded back in pain, pushing up onto her elbows as her suddenly ascendant adversary adjusted her golden micro mini, the self proclaimed ‘Only Girl of Gold’ far more satisfied with the new, or as she would say, restored order of things.
Savarino “tsked” in distaste as she patently ignored the boos of the gathered FAWNatics, paying them no mind as the tanned beauty wiped away at her pristinely gleaming attire, horrified by the filth and germs that had been left there by the dirty little urchin she was being forced to compete with. It was but the latest insult to be laid at her feet in a long line of disrespect that this federation insisted be heaped upon her, and as always she was forced to endure despite the continued indignity of her predicament.
“You are as filthy as your sister!” she hissed the final word as a sneer, no love lost between Vexed Viper and the Babyfaced People’s Princess, “you are most certainly a Sinclair!”
Sascha didn’t wait for a response, instead leaping into a run herself as the increasingly fatigued Mary struggled her way back up to sitting. Sascha didn’t quite have the same pep when hitting the ropes as many other Lightweights, but there was certainly a lethality to her coil assisted charge that was underestimated at everyone’s peril. She returned to centre ring far sooner that her teen opponent could force herself back up to vertical and...ground to a sudden stop?
The Lebanese Tease killed her own momentum, shocking everyone at the bizarre turn of events until she dropped down sharply onto one knee and scornfully cracked the youngest fighter in FAWN with a dismissively cruel slap across a cherub cheek.
@2:45
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2APzaryS2qw&list=PLPuOyWan3CRtU4T4QNMmzOGdhKdcLL2Qr&index=26
It was certainly harsh enough to sting, and with equal turns of pain and shock Mary’s noggin was whipped sideways beneath the condescending impact. She dropped back down from sitting and onto her elbow, the unfortunate victim of Savarino’s callous actions; the girl who proudly wore the colours of her family, the yellow/gold of the Sinclairs encircling her petite frame as a feather light swimsuit one piece, being belittled in front of the FAWNatics.
They did not appreciate it, the gathered masses eager to welcome the latest arrival of a beloved wrestling family into their midst heckling the source of her forced embarrassment with gusto.
Sascha, however, cared far too little for their clearly misplaced distaste, allowing herself a pause to slink her way back up to standing so she could pose and display her lusciously lithe frame, arms curled outwards and one knee popped upwards, smiling with sickening satisfaction. She mooooaned quietly to herself as her dark eyes half fluttered before she sighed deeply, a pleasurable expression as the Vicious Vixen renewed her offensive far too quickly to be of value to her opponent.
Savarino grabbed one arm of the still sitting Mary and, wrist squeezed tightly; she lifted and twisted the captured limb uncomfortably at the shoulder. The renewed YIP from the Angel of Adventure convinced her that she remained on the right path and, as her lips twisted into a cruel smirk, she pivoted her hips, stretched out one divinely sculptured, impossibly long, golden tanned stem out straight, inhaling a short breadth before whipping it about in a wickedly fast kick!
There was a meaty SMACK!! as her otherwise plush bootie struck hard and squarely between the shoulder blades of the currently outmatched teen. The rookie released an understandable shout of pain as the back row clearly heard the blistering CRACK, her posture buckling into a curve as she shivered from the aftershocks, leaning forwards with a grimace.
Mary continued to do likewise as a second kick; this one even swifter and no more forgiving buried itself even deeper into her back. Sascha grinned behind her, pleased with her work thus far, allowing herself the briefest moment to imagine she was doing this to someone else who shared the same lineage.
The Vexed Viper dropped down onto the canvas, momentarily content that the red headed cutie had been suitably tenderised, and added a second arm to join the already captured first. Mary protested with a shaking of her head, but it made little difference as Sascha saddled up behind her sitting foe, a wrist seized in each hand as she pulled those limbs back into an awkward V, straining the slight muscle structure that the rookie had been nurturing.
To make things worse she shifted her posture and slammed her knee in deep into the spine of her opponent, Sascha adding leverage to the hold as she pushed, pulled and twisted, compiling ever greater strain and torque with every minute adjustment.
@5:00
www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5hbIpFUtM4&list=PLPuOyWan3CRtU4T4QNMmzOGdhKdcLL2Qr&index=9
“WELL, WHAT YOU WAITING FOR YOU IMBECILE!?!” she snapped at the Official, the Vicious Vixen adding a few choice words concerning the man’s parentage for good measure. “CAN’T YOU HEAR HER SQUEEL? TAP THIS LITTLE TART OUT!!”
To her credit, Mary was desperate to contain her mounting misery, but as her arms were twisted and contorted and her back was popped and strained in a manner it was never meant to, the Teen discovered that she lacked the fortitude that one only learned from experience. She vocalised her pain, crying out despite the quivering of her lower lip to hold it in, her increasingly pained mewls as heartbreaking as they were sincere. The Teen Tornado shook her head, tears beading at the corner of her eyes, the heel of her right sneaker banging on the canvas. As her petite mass shivered and she was wrenched and twisted, the young girl summoned every ounce of will that was in her family’s nature to not tap out.
The Official shook his head, confirming that Mary had yet to relent, and Sascha’s answer was to sneer an exasperated “tut,” once again forced to endure the torrid practice of witling her foe down into an even greasier stain than she already was.
With an exasperated sigh, Savarino not only released her hold but threw those captured limbs downwards, Mary squeaking out a fresh mewl of pain as her tiny fists SLAPPED down hard against the canvas. With a whiplash motion she swung both of her wounded paws back up to her torso, instinctively cradling them to her petite bosom whilst Sascha stomped huffily back up to standing behind her.
Relief flooded through Mary’s body in the aftermath of the submission, the Flower of Fortune almost blinded to the dangers that were still so very near. Every fibre within her tiny being were trying to convince her to roll over and curl into an even smaller ball, but before she could even consider surrendering to such an impulse, it was the taller brunette that she was facing that would have none of it. She yelped in protest as Savarino grabbed her roughly beneath one slender shoulder and vindictively by her hair, yanking her back up to standing with sharp jerks.
Sascha indulged her need to exercise her simmering spite towards her fellow competitors, the veteran who had never quite made it always keen to further beat down fresh novices with promise. With her victim suitably vertical she switched her grip for one of wrist, pivoting her sublimely sculptured mass to both yank and curl the smaller Mary into an Irish Whip, her intention to reintroduce the Whirlwind Wonder to the ropes that had so dramatically failed her at the last hurdle.
The Teen Titan hit them, the coils wrapping about her sprinting frame just as they had before, but now the FAWNatics were fearing the worst as such a charge was now against her will. She collided and bounced off them, beating a pace back towards the centre ring with seemingly the same velocity as an unleashed bullet, the Villainous Viper waiting to gobble the ‘Mouse’ right up.
But then, as several of her new fans covered the eyes in worry for the coming impact, Mary steeled her nerve and ducked her head down low, pouting firmly as she narrowed her bright eyes with intent. She ducked, darting beneath the grasping limbs of Savarino who remained ignorant of the sudden change in her opponent’s demeanour, catching nothing but vacant air.
With her sneakers skidding across the canvas, Mary halted her own charge, spiralling into a sharp turn that made it appear she was sliding across ice, her miniature mass circling her new rival as she circumvented the women’s defences, arrived behind her and wrapped a pair of arms about her waist. With a tightening of her grip, a popping of her own hips and the tiniest of grunts, Mary heaved her unwilling cargo backward, toppling the taller woman down onto the canvas!
@4:20
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XL-2ASM_Sg&list=PLPuOyWan3CRuLxKLwYthDjPd_UwyW9N8j
With a string of sharp sounding curses, the dark haired beauty was deposited down firmly onto the matt with a THUD, head over heels with her barely concealed, firm buttocks pointed upwards towards the ceiling! She thrashed at the indignity like an especially furious hellcat as her predicament was further compounded, the Hurricane Heroine pouncing and slamming as much of her not overly considerable weight down atop her already folded legs, pressing her downwards into an even tighter, even more intolerable ball! She squirmed and spat, cursed and berated as Mary held on for dear life, squeaking and meeping as she rode the most volatile of broncos!
The Official dropped down immediately to the canvas, the FAWNatics now cheering this sudden change in fortunes, willing it to completion.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
With a strong sense of survival preservation, Mary launched herself away the very fraction of a second the man in black and white slapped the canvas for the final, required time. Sasha inadvertently aided in the Angel of Adventures efforts to scamper by bursting outwards from her ball as a self propelled explosion, her lower limbs all but providing an ideal jumping platform and hurling her cherub cheeked antagonist away and towards safety.
With all the momentum she could wish for at her disposal, and only a featherweight mass to concern her, the leap of the Teen Tornado almost took her clean across the ring. She didn’t take the time to linger, Mary already shooting off at a dash the moment her sneakers hit the canvas, the youngest fighter in FAWN slipping down into a swift slide that took her straight beneath the bottom rope and to the concrete outside the squared circle. She popped back down onto her feet and hopped several feet away before she considered turning, Savarino busy tearing her way back up to standing herself, distraught beyond all reason by this most inconceivable of slights being made against...against her fabulous self!!
“Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by pinfall...” the Announcer began, but Sascha was having none of it, spitting and cursing as she paced erratically one way and then the other, yanking at her own, shimmering mane in disbelieving distress!
“NO!” she screeched the word in accusation, all but spitting venom at the man who held the microphone and refusing to listen, “NO! DON’T YOU DARE! DON’T YOU DARE!!”
“...Mary! ‘Mouse’! Sinclair!!”
The FAWNatics bellowed out a collective cheer, and Savarino answered it with a scream of her own, the entirety of her hatred now focused on the rookie who stood outside the ring and beyond her reach. The sting of curses that erupted from between her lips were impressive but largely incomprehensible, the self proclaimed ‘Only Girl of Gold’ erratically switching between languages as none of them suitably encapsulated her mounting fury.
Mary, likewise, similarly found herself unable to contain herself, the tiny bundle of starlight shaking with visible delight as she squeaked and grinned and made the tiniest of hops as she struggled to express her joy. The thrill of victory warred with her almost painful shyness, and she bounced about in small circles, struggling to find a north as the Pixie Battler turned a bright, embarrassed and thrilled crimson.
“I won!” she squeaked, bobbing up and down with the smallest hops, the sincerest of joyful smiles upon her grinning features, “I won! I won! I WON!!”
Mary 'Mouse' Sinclair
The FAWNatics cheered, filling the small arena with nothing but goodwill as the latest addition to their affections turned into a red headed blur, cheeks flushed an equally bashful crimson. She hit the ropes as hard as she could manage, momentum thankfully making up for a general lack of might and the coils contorted to their maximum extension, snapping back and launching the Angel of the Isle towards her first ever professional opponent at a ludicrous pace.
She could scarcely believe that she was doing it, the Little Sister of FAWNS Lightweight Champion, the Little Sparrow, about to win her first ever match. Mary measured her pace as she had watched her elder sibling do a thousand times before and leapt, her sash of sapphire blue billowing in her self propelled breeze as she dived into a delightful cross body press!
Sascha Savarino clearly had other plans, the exotically stunning temptress pushing upwards from her forced penitence on one knee and right back up to standing, twisting her beguilingly curvaceous frame about and spreading her arms out wide. She snatched the Hurricane Heroine right out the air like the Featherweight the younger woman was and snapped them both about in a wickedly sharp spiral, slamming the far smaller frame of her opponent spine first into the mat!
Sascha Savarino
Mary barely had time to flutter her heart in panic as she gasped and kicked her sublimely athletic stems in mid flight. As she was making her suddenly disastrous descent, she shook her head and ‘MEEPED!’ in fear, those fleeting attempts to escape unsurprisingly proving fruitless. The cheers of the FAWNatics collectively caught in their throats and turned to groans, Mary answering them with a bellowing “GASP!” as she was slammed back first into the canvas, the much stronger frame of Savarino following a mere moment later to further batter her already battered body.
Sascha popped away from the ring rattling impact with a sneer that was sickeningly self indulgent, the Villainous Violet up onto her knees and then her soft, overly comfortable booties in short order. Mary remained fallen, whimpering as she arched her pounded back in pain, pushing up onto her elbows as her suddenly ascendant adversary adjusted her golden micro mini, the self proclaimed ‘Only Girl of Gold’ far more satisfied with the new, or as she would say, restored order of things.
Savarino “tsked” in distaste as she patently ignored the boos of the gathered FAWNatics, paying them no mind as the tanned beauty wiped away at her pristinely gleaming attire, horrified by the filth and germs that had been left there by the dirty little urchin she was being forced to compete with. It was but the latest insult to be laid at her feet in a long line of disrespect that this federation insisted be heaped upon her, and as always she was forced to endure despite the continued indignity of her predicament.
“You are as filthy as your sister!” she hissed the final word as a sneer, no love lost between Vexed Viper and the Babyfaced People’s Princess, “you are most certainly a Sinclair!”
Sascha didn’t wait for a response, instead leaping into a run herself as the increasingly fatigued Mary struggled her way back up to sitting. Sascha didn’t quite have the same pep when hitting the ropes as many other Lightweights, but there was certainly a lethality to her coil assisted charge that was underestimated at everyone’s peril. She returned to centre ring far sooner that her teen opponent could force herself back up to vertical and...ground to a sudden stop?
The Lebanese Tease killed her own momentum, shocking everyone at the bizarre turn of events until she dropped down sharply onto one knee and scornfully cracked the youngest fighter in FAWN with a dismissively cruel slap across a cherub cheek.
@2:45
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2APzaryS2qw&list=PLPuOyWan3CRtU4T4QNMmzOGdhKdcLL2Qr&index=26
It was certainly harsh enough to sting, and with equal turns of pain and shock Mary’s noggin was whipped sideways beneath the condescending impact. She dropped back down from sitting and onto her elbow, the unfortunate victim of Savarino’s callous actions; the girl who proudly wore the colours of her family, the yellow/gold of the Sinclairs encircling her petite frame as a feather light swimsuit one piece, being belittled in front of the FAWNatics.
They did not appreciate it, the gathered masses eager to welcome the latest arrival of a beloved wrestling family into their midst heckling the source of her forced embarrassment with gusto.
Sascha, however, cared far too little for their clearly misplaced distaste, allowing herself a pause to slink her way back up to standing so she could pose and display her lusciously lithe frame, arms curled outwards and one knee popped upwards, smiling with sickening satisfaction. She mooooaned quietly to herself as her dark eyes half fluttered before she sighed deeply, a pleasurable expression as the Vicious Vixen renewed her offensive far too quickly to be of value to her opponent.
Savarino grabbed one arm of the still sitting Mary and, wrist squeezed tightly; she lifted and twisted the captured limb uncomfortably at the shoulder. The renewed YIP from the Angel of Adventure convinced her that she remained on the right path and, as her lips twisted into a cruel smirk, she pivoted her hips, stretched out one divinely sculptured, impossibly long, golden tanned stem out straight, inhaling a short breadth before whipping it about in a wickedly fast kick!
There was a meaty SMACK!! as her otherwise plush bootie struck hard and squarely between the shoulder blades of the currently outmatched teen. The rookie released an understandable shout of pain as the back row clearly heard the blistering CRACK, her posture buckling into a curve as she shivered from the aftershocks, leaning forwards with a grimace.
Mary continued to do likewise as a second kick; this one even swifter and no more forgiving buried itself even deeper into her back. Sascha grinned behind her, pleased with her work thus far, allowing herself the briefest moment to imagine she was doing this to someone else who shared the same lineage.
The Vexed Viper dropped down onto the canvas, momentarily content that the red headed cutie had been suitably tenderised, and added a second arm to join the already captured first. Mary protested with a shaking of her head, but it made little difference as Sascha saddled up behind her sitting foe, a wrist seized in each hand as she pulled those limbs back into an awkward V, straining the slight muscle structure that the rookie had been nurturing.
To make things worse she shifted her posture and slammed her knee in deep into the spine of her opponent, Sascha adding leverage to the hold as she pushed, pulled and twisted, compiling ever greater strain and torque with every minute adjustment.
@5:00
www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5hbIpFUtM4&list=PLPuOyWan3CRtU4T4QNMmzOGdhKdcLL2Qr&index=9
“WELL, WHAT YOU WAITING FOR YOU IMBECILE!?!” she snapped at the Official, the Vicious Vixen adding a few choice words concerning the man’s parentage for good measure. “CAN’T YOU HEAR HER SQUEEL? TAP THIS LITTLE TART OUT!!”
To her credit, Mary was desperate to contain her mounting misery, but as her arms were twisted and contorted and her back was popped and strained in a manner it was never meant to, the Teen discovered that she lacked the fortitude that one only learned from experience. She vocalised her pain, crying out despite the quivering of her lower lip to hold it in, her increasingly pained mewls as heartbreaking as they were sincere. The Teen Tornado shook her head, tears beading at the corner of her eyes, the heel of her right sneaker banging on the canvas. As her petite mass shivered and she was wrenched and twisted, the young girl summoned every ounce of will that was in her family’s nature to not tap out.
The Official shook his head, confirming that Mary had yet to relent, and Sascha’s answer was to sneer an exasperated “tut,” once again forced to endure the torrid practice of witling her foe down into an even greasier stain than she already was.
With an exasperated sigh, Savarino not only released her hold but threw those captured limbs downwards, Mary squeaking out a fresh mewl of pain as her tiny fists SLAPPED down hard against the canvas. With a whiplash motion she swung both of her wounded paws back up to her torso, instinctively cradling them to her petite bosom whilst Sascha stomped huffily back up to standing behind her.
Relief flooded through Mary’s body in the aftermath of the submission, the Flower of Fortune almost blinded to the dangers that were still so very near. Every fibre within her tiny being were trying to convince her to roll over and curl into an even smaller ball, but before she could even consider surrendering to such an impulse, it was the taller brunette that she was facing that would have none of it. She yelped in protest as Savarino grabbed her roughly beneath one slender shoulder and vindictively by her hair, yanking her back up to standing with sharp jerks.
Sascha indulged her need to exercise her simmering spite towards her fellow competitors, the veteran who had never quite made it always keen to further beat down fresh novices with promise. With her victim suitably vertical she switched her grip for one of wrist, pivoting her sublimely sculptured mass to both yank and curl the smaller Mary into an Irish Whip, her intention to reintroduce the Whirlwind Wonder to the ropes that had so dramatically failed her at the last hurdle.
The Teen Titan hit them, the coils wrapping about her sprinting frame just as they had before, but now the FAWNatics were fearing the worst as such a charge was now against her will. She collided and bounced off them, beating a pace back towards the centre ring with seemingly the same velocity as an unleashed bullet, the Villainous Viper waiting to gobble the ‘Mouse’ right up.
But then, as several of her new fans covered the eyes in worry for the coming impact, Mary steeled her nerve and ducked her head down low, pouting firmly as she narrowed her bright eyes with intent. She ducked, darting beneath the grasping limbs of Savarino who remained ignorant of the sudden change in her opponent’s demeanour, catching nothing but vacant air.
With her sneakers skidding across the canvas, Mary halted her own charge, spiralling into a sharp turn that made it appear she was sliding across ice, her miniature mass circling her new rival as she circumvented the women’s defences, arrived behind her and wrapped a pair of arms about her waist. With a tightening of her grip, a popping of her own hips and the tiniest of grunts, Mary heaved her unwilling cargo backward, toppling the taller woman down onto the canvas!
@4:20
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XL-2ASM_Sg&list=PLPuOyWan3CRuLxKLwYthDjPd_UwyW9N8j
With a string of sharp sounding curses, the dark haired beauty was deposited down firmly onto the matt with a THUD, head over heels with her barely concealed, firm buttocks pointed upwards towards the ceiling! She thrashed at the indignity like an especially furious hellcat as her predicament was further compounded, the Hurricane Heroine pouncing and slamming as much of her not overly considerable weight down atop her already folded legs, pressing her downwards into an even tighter, even more intolerable ball! She squirmed and spat, cursed and berated as Mary held on for dear life, squeaking and meeping as she rode the most volatile of broncos!
The Official dropped down immediately to the canvas, the FAWNatics now cheering this sudden change in fortunes, willing it to completion.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
With a strong sense of survival preservation, Mary launched herself away the very fraction of a second the man in black and white slapped the canvas for the final, required time. Sasha inadvertently aided in the Angel of Adventures efforts to scamper by bursting outwards from her ball as a self propelled explosion, her lower limbs all but providing an ideal jumping platform and hurling her cherub cheeked antagonist away and towards safety.
With all the momentum she could wish for at her disposal, and only a featherweight mass to concern her, the leap of the Teen Tornado almost took her clean across the ring. She didn’t take the time to linger, Mary already shooting off at a dash the moment her sneakers hit the canvas, the youngest fighter in FAWN slipping down into a swift slide that took her straight beneath the bottom rope and to the concrete outside the squared circle. She popped back down onto her feet and hopped several feet away before she considered turning, Savarino busy tearing her way back up to standing herself, distraught beyond all reason by this most inconceivable of slights being made against...against her fabulous self!!
“Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by pinfall...” the Announcer began, but Sascha was having none of it, spitting and cursing as she paced erratically one way and then the other, yanking at her own, shimmering mane in disbelieving distress!
“NO!” she screeched the word in accusation, all but spitting venom at the man who held the microphone and refusing to listen, “NO! DON’T YOU DARE! DON’T YOU DARE!!”
“...Mary! ‘Mouse’! Sinclair!!”
The FAWNatics bellowed out a collective cheer, and Savarino answered it with a scream of her own, the entirety of her hatred now focused on the rookie who stood outside the ring and beyond her reach. The sting of curses that erupted from between her lips were impressive but largely incomprehensible, the self proclaimed ‘Only Girl of Gold’ erratically switching between languages as none of them suitably encapsulated her mounting fury.
Mary, likewise, similarly found herself unable to contain herself, the tiny bundle of starlight shaking with visible delight as she squeaked and grinned and made the tiniest of hops as she struggled to express her joy. The thrill of victory warred with her almost painful shyness, and she bounced about in small circles, struggling to find a north as the Pixie Battler turned a bright, embarrassed and thrilled crimson.
“I won!” she squeaked, bobbing up and down with the smallest hops, the sincerest of joyful smiles upon her grinning features, “I won! I won! I WON!!”
