Post by hawkeye on Sept 6, 2021 15:49:00 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Stillwater Minnesota, she stands at five feet five inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and thirty-five pounds. They call her the Sweet Disaster, this is BRIDGET STROUD!”
BE LEGENDARY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kmidz2s4scM
The capacity crowd of FAWNatics leapt to their feet when the lights went purple and a dozen spotlights played over that mass of humanity. Then the speakers offered up Pop Evil’s ‘Be Legendary’ and the ‘tron showed selections from Stroud’s ring career thus far interspersed with footage from her tenure in the world of rock climbing. The frenetic sweep of lights continued through most of the first verse, though their pace seemed to increase as the sound system roared:
Our name in stone, forever more.
We want more!
We want more!
We want more!
BRIDGET STROUD:
The spots abruptly trained themselves on the entryway with the third recitation and Bridget stormed through the curtain, the brunette dubbed Sweet Disaster skidding to a stop at the top of the stage just to throw her arms up for a brawny double bicep flex. Chants of ‘STROUD! STROUD! STROUD!’ rang out at once, a building roar crafted by fans of her indy stint as well as the new fans she’d made during her time in the FAWN Arena.
Smile fading to a flinty stare as the noise continued to swell, Bridget pivoted ‘round on one heel and swung her hips in time to their chant while pointing to the white ‘Sweet Disaster’ insignia stretched across her purple briefs.
Another about-face followed shortly thereafter and the copper-skinned brunette hardbody took off down the ramp, Bridget going with arms outstretched to properly thank everyone lending their support to her cause. For tonight’s shot at redemption against the malicious Madam Guillotine, Stroud wore the aforementioned purple trunks, a halter-style bikini top with one cup done in matching white and the other in a spangly purple, purple and white armbands that crisscrossed at bicep and forearm to meet at wrist and shoulder, white pads with a purple splatter pattern and purple wrestling boots that ended a few inches shy of her knees. A study in frenetic energy the entire way to ringside, Bridget made a high-speed circuit of the front row, then leapt to the apron to the top rope and stayed there for a several seconds to bask in the roar of the crowd. Once she hopped down Stroud moved over to referee Craig Long and offered him her pads and boots.
“You happen to speak any French, Craig?” Bridget asked once the zebra had granted his stamp of approval.
“Afraid not. I took a couple years of Italian in high school and some Spanish in high school. Why?”
“Just hoping someone other than Anciline would realize when Kathy’s trying to submit. Guess I’ll just have to make her tap, won’t I?”
“It’s the other universal language.” Craig agreed with a nod.
Stroud laughed, though the expression faded as she turned her attention to the stage. “Time to find out if you’re bi-lingual, you evil brat.” she murmured.
Silent until Bridget’s music faded, the Announcer swept a hand toward the stage and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce Anciline de Cyr!”
There was not even a hint of sarcasm in his words, yet the crowd reacted like the poor dope had just told the most horrible joke they’d ever heard. Loud to begin with, their jeers and derision grew all the louder when the former World Champion and current FAWN executive brushed the curtain aside and took her rightful place on the center of the stage. Showing their feelings the same concern a boot would show an anthill (which was to say, none whatsoever) de Cyr waited through the noise, knowing full well these cretins would tire themselves out sooner than later.
ANCILINE DE CYR:
Turning her attention to the squared circle and the business to be tended to within it, the French legend started down the ramp with her nose ever so slightly upturned. While not dressed for battle de Cyr still cut an impressive figure accentuated by a long sleeved, black slim-fit blouse and an equally flattering midnight-blue pencil skirt that ended two inches above the knee.
Mounting the steps without once drawing within reach of the perpetual loafers that made up the Orlando masses, de Cyr waited on the apron until Craig Long hurried over and took a seat on the second rope to allow her proper passage. From there she approached the Announcer and laid claim to his microphone.
“Get it all out of your system, please.” Anciline said with no preamble whatsoever. “I have something important to say and I’m only willing to endure so much of your boorish verbal flatulence.”
The crowd didn’t care much for her tone and let her know with another round of spirited boos.
Anciline sighed, raised her voice to be heard over the din. “At Summer Swelter, a crime was committed. My protégé was robbed of her rightful victory by the brash, impetuous girl skulking in the corner to my right.” De Cyr pivoted to Bridget, who greeted her with a saucy wink and smile. “Unfortunately for you Mademoiselle Stroud, three seconds do not a winner make, no matter what the record book might show. Your ‘victory’ was pyrrhic at best and an embarrassing fraud at worst. Such disgusting breaches of etiquette are not to be tolerated, as you’ve already learned. But the embarrassment you suffered two months prior will pale in comparison to what befalls you tonight.” Turning her back on Bridget when the brunette’s expression darkened, Anciline graced the crowd with a presence they did not deserve. “Introducing Mademoiselle Stroud’s opponent and destroyer, hailing from Marseilles, France, she stands at five feet five inches and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-four pounds, she is KATHRYN de CHEVALIER!”
LA GRENADE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=85m-Qgo9_nE
Over the pulse of a guitar and Clara Luciani’s ‘La Grenade‘, the curtain parted, and the aristocrat in the ring was joined by a phenom atop the ramp. Patently unimpressed even before she made her presence known, Kathryn managed to look even more disgusted after mere heartbeats among the FAWNatics. As per usual the French ingénue was dressed for battle, her flawless, porcelain skin standing in stark contrast to the black fightin’ two piece that hugged her curvaceous frame, the bottoms tied at her hips, and a web of lacing across her bust connecting one cup to the other, while still offering the most tantalizing view of the considerable cleavage behind those laces. From her fingertips to a little beyond each elbow stretched elegant, dark red, nylon opera gloves, while a set of stockings of the same material and color rose to mid thigh, garters connecting them to her briefs. To complete her look, she sported a pair of black leather ankle boots, not at all unlike the sort of footwear de Cyr favored during her reign of terror.
KATHRYN DE CHEVALIER:
Already bored of the rabble that made up her domain, de Chevalier perked up considerably when she locked eyes with the woman who had snuck one out from under her at Summer Swelter. Eyes narrowing to haughty, furious slots, Kathryn started toward the ring without even a single derisive word for the American idiots. The opposite was far from true, as the aisle-side FAWNatics made it a goal to focus all of their disdain on Anciline’s protégé and to their credit it was in fact very, very loud. But sheer volume wasn’t nearly enough to faze the aristocratic blonde, not when she had Stroud in her sights.
Craig was still waiting by the apron to bid de Chevalier welcome, but Anciline shooed him aside to do the honor herself. Offering a single nod to her manager and mentor, Kathryn went straight for the center of the ring and might have made it to Bridget’s corner if not for the timely interjection of the referee.
Ending the encroachment with a raised hand and a hissed <“Idiot!”> de Chevalier backed into her corner and settled in, to suffer through the last, albeit seemingly endless moments of the scheming cheater Bridget Stroud.
Blonde and brunette were out of their corners the instant the bell sounded, both quite eager to repay the slights they’d endured during their first encounter at Summer Swelter. Lips twisted into a smirk as she drank in the anger on Stroud’s face, de Chevalier started to say something only to elect silence when Bridget lunged in for a Collar & Elbow NO! Bridget went low and around in a beautiful go-behind that let her slap a Waistlock on the startled Frenchwoman. Hands locked tight, she yanked Kathryn off her feet and treated her to a violent rag-doll shake before she twisted her hips and dumped the curvaceous blonde onto all fours like it was nothing.
“Get up!” Stroud barked even as she snapped a taunting kick into de Chevalier’s rump. “Get up and fight you chickenshyt coward!”
De Chevalier did just that, the infuriated battler on her feet in a blink and locked up with Stroud immediately thereafter. Clamping onto the insolent American with a handful of hair and cheeks (she’d mashed Bridget’s mug into an embarrassing fish face) Kathryn gave the brunette a hard shake and sneered, <“Don’t EVER lay a hand on me, unworthy loser PIGUUUGGHHH!”>
Stroud twisted on her left foot so she could bring her right thigh up into the other wrestler’s belly with a big broadside Kneelift. Neither this nor the second attempt were enough to break de Chevalier’s grip entirely, yet they loosened it enough for the brunette to twist ‘round behind by only sacrificing a few strands of hair. Another go behind led to another Waistlock and led to another swift Takedown, but now Stroud dropped to her knees which meant de Chevalier landed flat on her chest and belly. Straddling the blonde’s back as soon as she landed, Stroud dug her knees into Kathryn’s flanks so she couldn’t escape before Sweet Disaster mussed her hair in a showing that was as enthusiastic as it was rude!
“What’s wrong, don’t like disrespect Kathy?” Stroud taunted over her foe’s furious hissing. “Don’t like getting treated shabby?” Bridget buried a hand in the blonde’s hair, wrenched her head back and peppered both cheeks with quick, taunting slaps! “You better start liking it, because I’m doin’ it bell to bell!”
<“The f*ck you will, pig!”> Kathryn fumed as she struggled in the confines of the mount. <“Get your sloppy ass off me before I HHHRRRGGGGHH!”>
Bridget doubled down on the hair-hold to ensure there was even more momentum when she THUMPED the arrogant wrestler’s face into the thinly-sheathed plywood! De Chevalier groaned, a sound of pain that changed to one of fury and humiliation when Stroud slapped the back of her head several more times, then stretched out atop her blonde cushion and spun through a half circle that left her straddling the back of Kathryn’s skull. This was a terrible position for a smother, but a perfect one for paddling de Chevalier’s haughty behind, which is exactly what Bridget did, a quick pitter-patter spanking that got the FAWNatics on their feet a few seconds before Kathryn finally did the same.
Wide-eyed with rage in the wake of such derisive treatment, the French Fatale threw herself at Stroud with talons aimed straight for the brunette’s eyes--“NNNGGGHHHH!” Bridget stepped in and twisted to the side, bringing her left arm up as she did to THWHAP that bicep offa de Chevalier’s chin with a perfect European Uppercut! Caught flush by the blow, Kathryn wheeled around and would’ve pitched chest-first into the ropes if the former rock climbing standout hadn’t grabbed her by the waistband and the scruff of the neck! Whipping around so they both faced the opposite side of the squared circle, Bridget rushed across the canvas and pitched de Chevalier over the top rope to land at Anciline’s feet!
“You’re her translator, right?” Bridget asked the legend over the noise of those assembled. “Tell your girl I’m gonna whip her smarmy, cheap-shotting ass all night long!” Promise made, Stroud retreated to the middle of the ring and stretched her arms wide to bask in the love of the crowd.
Kathryn on the other hand didn’t bask in anything, though she was positively boiling by the time she returned to boot-leather about five seconds into Long’s count. Upper lip curled in a hateful sneer, the blonde bombshell lunged for the apron only to cry out in surprised fury when Anciline grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her backward! Rounding on the legend in a trice, de Chevalier stepped close and hissed, <“What the hell do you think you’re do--”>
CRACK!
Kathryn’s surprise grew to genuine astonishment when de Cyr raised a hand and fetched her a brisk slap across the face. <“Get a hold of yourself this instant.” the executive and former World Champion said in response to the younger woman’s wide, incredulous eyes. <“She is goading you again, Kathryn. Trying to draw you into another mistake. Do you really want to go zero for two against that impudent girl?”>
De Chevalier clenched her jaw, but made no effort to stifle the growl behind it as she shook her head ‘no’. <“Then take a deep breath.”> Anciline went on. <“Remember who you are and what you’re capable of. Mademoiselle already knows how painful it is to cheat you out of a win. Show her how much worse it gets when she loses. Smother the brat early and often. Be patient in your efforts. Implacable. She will yield. You will stand victorious.”>
Kathryn nodded once. <“I will make her beg.”>
This seemed to satisfy de Cyr, so Kathryn returned her attention to the ring and climbed onto the apron with about three seconds to spare. Flicking a dismissive hand in the brunette’s direction even as she glared daggers at the official, de Chevalier waited until Long was between his charges before she slipped back into the ring. <“Come to me, pig.”> the Frenchwoman called to her foe with beckoning fingers. <“It’s time you learned that simple humiliation is only the--”>
“Shut your mouth.” Bridget snapped as she began to close on de Chevalier. “Does that one translate easy enough? Or how about this one? Talk shyt, get--”
’Hit’ never made it off her tongue because Kathryn pounced on her to initiate the most spirited clench of the match so far. From up on tiptoe to down on one knee and everything in between, blonde and brunette put their considerable strength into marching her foe around the squared circle, but neither could control her foe for more than a couple of steps before she’d find herself back on the defensive. This sort of stalemate often resulted in a break-apart shove sooner than later, but Bridget and Kathryn caromed around the ring for more than fifteen seconds without showing any interest in letting go. It wasn’t until Stroud finally succeeded in forcing her opponent into a corner that de Chevalier hooked a foot over the bottom rope and demanded, <“Break!”>
Craig, who’d been diligently brushing up on the two years of French he’d taken in high school, patted Stroud on the right shoulder and said, “Ease off, Bridget. Let’s have a clean break, ok?”
Stroud wasn’t certain that was possible considering her opposition, but she dutifully broke the grapple, raised her hands overhead and-- Sweet Disaster feigned a step back only to brazenly chest up on the French Fatale, her more modest assets still quite effective at pressing de Chevalier’s girls snug to her own sternum. “Hope you like pressure, baby.” Stroud told Kathryn as she backpedaled away before the blonde could fully process the American’s audacity. “Because I’m gonna be on you all night. Gonna have you huffing and puffing like an old lady by the time this is OOOFFFHHH!”
De Chevalier stormed out of the corner and raised her hands for another Lock-Up only to lunge in on one knee to deliver a Headbutt that THWHUMPED the pit of Bridget’s stomach! Unprepared for the heavy body blow, Stroud folded up and promptly got caught in a Headlock that Kathryn used to sling her over one hip en route to a BOOMING return to the canvas! Stretched out on her left side, Kathryn cranked down on the simple hold while simultaneously keeping her head pulled back to avoid Stroud’s flailing hands.
<“Now pig, you belong to me.”> de Chevalier purred as her latest constriction earned a loud groan from Minnesota Wild. Pleased by the sound, Kathryn rocked in place to increase the pressure, then halved the Headlock to snatch Stroud’s left wrist when she tried to pound some punches into her stomach. <“Such pathetic flailing.”> the Frenchwoman sniffed after she’d secured Bridget’s forearm between her thighs in a snug Scissors. <“If you’re going to squirm and writhe, you can at least make it worth my time.”>
Down to one free hand, Stroud balled it into a fist and pounded away at her attacker’s shoulders and upper back. “Snide bytch, leggo of MMMMPPPHHHHH!”
De Chevalier yoked up and sidled forward to force Bridget’s startled mug into the curve of her left breast! Stroud squealed, beat her heels against the mat, then raked her nails down the blonde’s back, all to no avail. <“Why do you struggle, pig?”> Kathryn teased. <“Surely you understand this is your destiny? This pitiable squalling and squealing is not actual competition, it’s simply a harbinger of inevitable domination. A warning to the rest of the American trash that I am a raging fire here to burn away all of their disgusting mediocritOHNOYOUDON’T!”>
Stroud, coming to realize she couldn’t just power free of her predicament, reached ‘round the blonde’s lower back to grab hold at her right hip. From there she rolled from left to right, a shift that stacked de Chevalier on her shoulders for a count of…
ONE…
TWO…
Kathryn popped her hips simultaneous with ‘TWO!’ to return to their original arrangement, only now she aggressively smashed her breast down on the brunette’s face instead of simply smothering her. <“You will NOT steal from me again, thief-pig!”> de Chevalier hissed into her foe’s increasingly flushed features. <“You will do nothing but beg and plead for the mercy of my HHRRRGGHH!”>
The blonde had leaned quite a bit closer to deliver her galling prophecy and Bridget made her pay for it by ‘smecking’ an Iron Claw atop those haughty features! The surprise of her counter grip allowed Stroud to twist her head to one side, thus allowing her to breathe while still enduring the painful strain of the Headlock and the concerning pressure of French jugg-weight. Bridget didn’t panic though, she pressed the flat of her palm against Kathryn’s nose and continued to bear down on the blonde’s skull with a grip that’d quickly become recognized as one of the strongest in FAWN. “Yuuuhhhh… you squeeze me, I squeeze you, punk.” Stroud gasped after she’d managed a few deep breaths. “And we both know I squeeze harder than yoOOOWWW!”
Disgusted by the sound of her opponent’s voice, de Chevalier halved the Headlock again, crooked the fingers on that hand into a talon and raaaaaaaaked them across Bridget’s eyes! Doing so didn’t end the Iron Claw but it loosened to such a degree that Kathryn just grabbed hold of the American’s wrist and prized it off her face. She followed this with another harsh rake of Stroud’s eyes, despite the protests of Craig Long, the fans and Bridget herself. <“Your defiance is pathetic. It would be beneath contempt if not for the shameful error of our previous meeting.”> the French Fatale hissed as she used a double handful of hair to bring the brunette to verticality. <“But this is a mistake I mean to correct in short order. And it starts by smashing you to a mewling paste!”>
Stroud didn’t get a chance to answer before de Chevalier helped herself to a wrist and sent her sprinting across the squared circle to BWUNG spine-first against the turnbuckles! Kathryn hung back long enough to ensure there would be no evasive cowardice from Sweet Disaster and once convinced she took off after her prey at top speed. The impact of buckles against back told Bridget all she needed to know of her placement in the ring, unfortunately it didn’t tell her anything about her opponent and this information remained a mystery up until the moment de Chevalier took to the skies and THWHAPPED every bit of her hundred and thirty-plus pounds against the blinded brunette in a gorgeous Avalanche Splash!
AVALANCHE SPLASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb0z_r8-XFE
Bouncing away from the collision like it was nothing, Kathryn noted Stroud trying to stumble away so she pressed a hand to the other wrestler’s sternum and shoved her into position. <“Where do you think you’re going, pig?”> she sneered. <“Your freedom requires a heavy toll, one you’re not prepared to--”>
“Guuuhhh, can’t you just shut the f*ck up?” Stroud huffed. “I’m so sick of your stupid mouHHRRGGH!”
Infuriated by the interruption, de Chevalier grabbed the middle rope on either side of her prey to ensure that much more ‘oomph’ on the half dozen Shoulderblocks she drilled into the pit of the American’s tummy! Calling a halt to this offensive as soon as she heard the official hurry over, Kathryn spun around on one heel and chased the poor dope halfway across the ring with a malicious stream of invective in her native tongue. Craig didn’t know what any of it meant, but by the time he’d regained his bearings de Chevalier had returned to the corner where Stroud gasped for air. <“I wonder, pig. Are you simply short of breath or are you coming to grips with your own crushing inadequacies? Don’t tell me now, I’d rather make an educated guess.”>
No response which was just as it should be. Filling her hands with the brunette’s hair for the simple joy of wrenching her foe’s head to and fro, the black-clad Frenchwoman climbed onto the bottom rope so her dangerous curves were perfectly lined up with Bridget’s fa--“MMMMRRRRPPPPHHHH!”
Already muffled, Stroud’s startled yelp was totally overwhelmed by the roar of the crowd when de Chevalier guided the brunette’s face into her all enveloping cleavage! Palming her own elbows for extra pressure, Kat rolled her shoulders back ‘n forth while slowly but surely tightening the coil of her arms. Offering those assembled a snide, knowing smile as she continued to pour punishment from her decanter of décolletage, de Chevalier noted, <“The quality of her wails suggest she’s having something of an existential crisis, though all the suckling and snuffling COULD be an indicator of poor cardio.”> She gave Bridget another rough scrubbin’, then leaned down and planted a kiss on the crown of her skull.
This close quarters domination would’ve continued if not for Craig, who hurried over to his charges and simply began to count. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR!”
Kat hopped down, wiped a hand over her chest and promptly CRAAACKED that sweat-damp palm across Sweet Disaster’s cheek! <“This is not an escape, pig.”> the blonde explained after she’d helped herself to another Wristlock. <“This is me allowing you to stumble away so I may run you to ground at my leisure.”>
With that she stepped back, dropped a hip and yanked Stroud forward into--“OOOOFFFFHH!” De Chevalier pulled Bridget into a huge Kneelift, then reset the Irish Whip and sent the brunette on her way to the far corner. Unlike her previous trip, Stroud couldn’t muster the wherewithal to turn around, meaning she hit the top turnbuckle chest-first with a BWUUUNG that earned a grimace of sympathetic anguish from several ringside FAWNatics. These empathetic souls were still rubbing at their sternums when Kathryn worsened Bridget’s situation by crushing her with the second Avalanche Splash in less than a minute!
REAR AVALANCHE SPLASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DMFy9CxoA8
Quick to mount the second rope, de Chevalier pressed both hands to Stroud’s face, then slipped her index fingers into the sides of Bridget’s mouth to peel her lips back in a garish smile! <“Smile, pig!”> de Chevalier demanded of the protesting brunette. <“Better yet, oink for your disgusting followers!”> Removing the fishhooks so she could cup Stroud’s chin in her right hand, the Frenchwoman jammed her middle and index fingers into the brunette’s nostrils and wrenched her head back at a sharp angle!
The pain of those encroaching digits broke through the fog in Bridget’s mind and she scrabbled at Kathryn’s wrists all while shouting “ROPES!” in a high, nasal whine.
Distorted though they were, the intention of her wails were unmistakable and it wasn’t more than a few seconds before Craig Long was closing in to check on his charges. “All right Kathryn, hop down from there and let’s have a clean--” He didn’t have to say ‘break’ because de Chevalier dismounted without need of further prompting, she even had both hands raised to shoulder lev-- jeers from the Slaybor Day throng as the busty blonde made a show of wiping her fingers clean between her opponent’s shoulders.
Treating the zebra to a raised eyebrow in response to his disapproving look, Kathryn asked, <“She is trash, no? I am simply doing my part to dispose of her in the proper fashion.”> The soft chuckle from Anciline told Long de Chevalier wasn’t nearly as sincere as her tone indicated, but it was still a clean break so he gave her the benefit of a doubt only to immediately regret it when she rushed in and slammed a shoulder into the center of Bridget’s back!
Patently ignoring Craig now, Kathryn seized Stroud’s wrists and tossed her arms over the top rope, then reached through the gap between top and middle strands to lay claim to them once more. From there she raised her right foot, braced it between the American’s shoulders and puuuuussssshed forward while craaaaaaanking back on those captured arms in a particularly cruel variation on the Surfboard!
“AAAAHHHH FAAAAAAAAAHK!” Bridget shrieked in abject anguish as Kathryn tried to tear her shoulders out of socket. “GODDAMMNED BYTCH, LEMME GOOOOOOO!”
Long proved a bit more diplomatic (albeit no less emphatic) in his order, or rather, count, of “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
De Chevalier released the Surfboard with a disgusted flourish, buried both hands in Stroud’s hair and dragged her out of the buck--“NNGGH!” Bridget’s knees shivered when Kathryn slammed a Headbutt into the nape of her neck, but the tenacious grip on her hair ensured Sweet Disaster didn’t collapse just yet. Relinquishing the hair-hold only after she’d slipped her head beneath Stroud’s left arm, de Chevalier wrapped her right arm around the other wrestler’s waist and pressed her left hand to the back of foe’s left thigh. From there she muscled Bridget up onto her right shoulder, stomped forward and treated her to a slumped seat in the high rent district. <“Take a moment to enjoy this view, pig.”> Kathryn taunted after she’d climbed onto the middle rope. <“Surely you will never achieve such heights again, not even should you scale another of your pathetic mountains.”>
Stroud offered no reply to this, so the French Fatale repeated her previous steps to secure the Backdrop Suplex, only from a much greater elevation. Muscling the former rock climber into an awkward perch on the top turnbuckle, Kathryn dipped her knees and hoisted Stroud free of her moorings in preparation for the long, long trip to--‘OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!’ from the crowd when Minnesota Wild twisted over and around, Bridget stretched out full length atop de Chevalier’s chest to transform the Suplex into a sawed-off Crossbody that brought her down on Kathryn with a ring-shivering THAWHAM!
Kathryn’s legs shot skyward on impact, so Bridget hooked them both and swiftly transitioned to a Back Press that kept the squirming blonde glued to the canvas through…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Kat disappointed the FAWNatics and greatly relieved her mentor by bucking free of the pin approximately half a second before ‘THREE!’
Aghast at the notion of her protégé coughing up another one to the damnably tenacious brunette, Anciline pounded both palms against the apron and shouted, <“To me, Kathryn! To me, you must regroup!”>
For all her haughtiness de Chevalier did not argue with the older woman, indeed she wasted no time barreling in the direction of de Cyr’s voice. Nerves soothed considerably once she’d hooked an arm around Kathryn’s waist and drawn her under the bottom rope, Anciline pulled the younger woman away from the squared circle to whisper some guidance in one ear. <“I know it is difficult, but you must resist your desire to humiliate this one, at least for the moment.”>
De Chevalier was still achy and disoriented in the wake of the thwarted Superplex, but that didn’t stop her from shaking her head ‘no’. <“Shuuuhhh… she stole my victory, Anciline. She must be made to suff--”>
<“And she will, once you’ve won.”> de Cyr interrupted. <“But if you don’t curb these gaudy theatrics she will steal ANOTHER victory and then you will know true humilia--”>
A thunderous roar from the crowd drew their attention to the ring just in time to watch Bridget Stroud vault over the top rope in a Suicide Crossbody! Anciline stepped back without hesitation or grabbing hold of her charge, a lapse which proved disastrous for Kathryn as Sweet Disaster smashed her to the thinly-padded concrete floor!
SUICIDE PLANCHA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mx8dRfdwFxY
Bridget scrambled to one knee, snatched hold of the Frenchwoman’s hair and yanked her noggin up for at least half a dozen straight right hands administered directly to her foe’s forehead. De Cyr took a half step back, a small movement that still caused Stroud to rise to her full height in the blink of an eye. “Don’t even think about it.” she warned the executive. “This is between she and I.”
“It most certainly is.” Anciline answered in perfect English. “Which is why I would suggest you don’t waste your breath threatening me.”
Bridget started to reply, but held off in favor of delivering a single quick (and perfectly placed) Elbow Drop to the pit of Kathryn’s stomach. Filling her hands with golden locks when de Chevalier rolled to one side, the brunette yanked her head off the floor just to give it a single spiteful bounce. With Kathryn suitably stunned, Minnesota Wild returned her attention to the FAWN executive. “I’m not threatening you, Anciline. If I was, I’d be a lot less polite about it.”
De Cyr offered no comment, so Bridget doubled down on the hair-hold, hauled the blonde to verticality and bundled her under the bottom rope with a few rude shoves. Stroud slid in after her, popped up and raced to the far side as Kathryn clambered to all fours. The French Fatale had just regained her footing when Bridget almost tore her out of her boots with a Spear that buried one shoulder in the blonde’s vulnerable belly!
The crowd wanted a cover but Bridget ignored them in favor of tugging her adversary to a woozy seat. “Where’s that trash talk now, huh baby? Where’d it go?” Stroud questioned de Chevalier as she took the other wrester’s left wrist in her right hand and vice versa.
<“Shuuuhhh…shut your mouth, pig.”> Kathryn groaned. <“Your words disgust MMMRRRGGGHH!”>
Bridget drove a knee between her blonde’s shoulders and wrenched back on her grips to secure a nasty Straightjacket Chinlock that had de Chevalier rasping and beating her heels against the canvas. The predicament brought Craig Long over to check for a submission, at least that’s what he would’ve done if Stroud didn’t get to her feet and force Kathryn to do the same.
<“Free yourself, Kathryn.”> Anciline told her charge. <“She mustn’t be allowed to gain any momen--”>
Bridget leapt, jammed her knees between de Chevalier’s shoulders and laid out on her back to THWHUMP all the air from her prey with a pitiless Lungblower! The jarring jolt bounced Kathryn onto her knees, but with Stroud’s Straightjacket still in place she couldn’t create much in the way of separation. Indeed she was yanked even closer when Minnesota Wild (now seated directly behind her penitent adversary) wedged her feet into the Frenchwoman’s thighs and wrenched her back into a spine-wrenching arch atop the points of her knees!
LUNGBLOWER & STRAIGHTJACKET STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARVQud4UKPw
“Run your mouth now, baby.” Bridget demanded as she glared down into her opponent’s strained, upturned face. “Go on, I said run your mouth now!”
<“Kiss my ass, pig.”> de Chevalier’s tone required no translation. <“This is but a mild inconvenience, I will still make you beg before AAAARRRRRGGGHHHHH STAAAAAAAAAHHHHP YOU BYTCH!”>
Stroud worked her knees a little higher while simultaneously YANKING down on the Straightjacket over and over again in a concentrated effort to snap Kathryn’s will. This rough treatment also set the terrible tyro’s juggs a jostling in their cups and raised a round of salacious cheers and whistles that made her loathe Bridget Stroud all the more. Slowing to a stop after almost ten seconds of creative chiropractic exercises, the brunette leaned in even closer and planted a smooch on the center of Kathryn’s forehead before aggressively grrrrrriiiiiinding the point of her chin across that same spot!
<“INSUFFERABLE PIG!”> de Chevalier roared, her usual haughty ennui cracking in places to show the pain and embarrassment lurking just underneath. <“I’ll make you scream for daring to demean RRRGGGGGHHH!”>
Stroud loosened the hold enough to shift her right foot from Kathryn’s thigh to the center of her back before she yoked it down tight again! Doing so put even more strain on the blonde’s spine and the FAWNatics weren’t whistling anymore, now they were demanding she ‘TAP! TAP! TAP!’
“What do you say, Kathryn?” Craig was as close to the action as he dared. “Do you submit? Just nod yes or no!”
<“NO!”> Kathryn barked, her voice quite ragged from the constriction of the Straightjacket. <“This vacuous tramp is no match for MEEEEEAAAARRRRHHHH!”
Bridget switched back to her original double knee arrangement and treated the Frenchwoman to another round of chin-grinding, this time focusing on the bridge of Kathryn’s nose. “Wanna know what I think?” Brunette and blonde were eye to eye, despite their vastly different arrangements.
<“You don’t think, pig.”>
“I think you’re an overrated piece of trash.”
<“Your words are so much meaningless noise, bytch.”>
“I think you’re nothing more than a playground bully with a slightly bigger budget.”
<“Squeal all you can now, it will be much more difficult when I’m--”>
“And I think these people are going to lose their shyt when I rip your top off and throw it into the third row.”
A long moment of silence before de Chevalier hissed, <“You wouldn’t dare.”>
“I knew you understood.” Stroud’s dark eyes gleamed. “Then understand this, I’m going to submit you in the middle of this ring,” she pulled her feet away, sidled forward and locked both legs around Kathryn’s waist with an audible ‘smeck’, “and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it!”
The change in focus from spine to ribs didn’t make things easier for the Frenchwoman, if anything her features flushed a few shades darker as Bridget worked to cut her in half with the Scissors. <“Put the pain out of your mind, Kathryn.”> Anciline called from the outside in a tone that suggested she knew this was far easier said than done. <“Her holds are strong, but her will is not. Escape this trifling annoyance and she will--yes! Just like that!”>
Kathryn didn’t actually escape, but she got her lower legs out from underneath, which in turn made it much easier to scoot and slide her way toward-- <“NNNNGGGGGHHH!”>
Another groan from Kathryn and a curse from Anciline when Bridget rolled the blonde onto her stomach and maneuvered her way into a heavy seat in the hollow of her foe’s aching spine! Feet planted flat, Stroud hunched forward, then leaned back on her heels, the former rock climbing standout putting her considerable strength toward bending de Chevalier into a sobbing ‘C’.
“What do you say, Kathryn?” Long asked after another fifteen seconds of grim-faced squirming from the trapped blonde.
No outburst now, Anciline’s protégé only shook her head ‘no’ and continued inching her way across the mat. Stroud made no effort to stop this progress, instead she focused on making Kathryn’s journey as hellish as possible by constantly jostling the blonde’s crisscrossed forearms over her throat. To make matters worse she’d occasionally hoist her butt off of the blonde’s lower back and hold the squat for a second or two before smashing down on de Chevalier’s vulnerable vertebrae. Also worth noting was the abrupt lack of trash talk between the rivals. Their earlier taunting and disrespect had given way to grim silence as the blonde strove to escape her debilitating confines and the brunette sought to submit her adversary in the center of the ring.
Bridget’s grip never wavered but neither did Kathryn’s progress and after an awkward, shuffling half circle turn she managed to drape her right foot over the bottom rope. <“Break, damn you.”> de Chevalier hissed. <“Get your disgusting ass off of me.”>
Stroud finally relinquished her control over Kathryn’s wrists, allowing the curvaceous blonde to slop to the mat with a heavy sigh. So deep was her relief that she didn’t realize Sweet Disaster hadn’t stood up until Bridget grabbed hold of her biceps and yanked them up and back to drape across the planks of her thighs! <“ROPES!”> the infuriated blonde shrieked even as she tucked her chin to protect against the Camel Clutch. <“GET YOUR SLOPPY ASS OFF ME, YOU CHEATING OOOHHH HOW DARE YOU!?”>
Bridget raised both hands like she meant to secure the Chinlock, instead she reached down and grabbed a copious handful of French jugg! Attacking those vulnerable orbs with all the strength honed during her previous occupation, Bridget tried to gouge some quit out of de Chevalier’s chest up until the moment the ref hurried over. Then she tugged in opposite directions so she could SMACK ‘em together in time with Craig’s count of, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Stroud got up and stomped away from the ropes, leaving a furious, wide-eyed Kathryn to rise to one knee while holding a protective arm to her chest. Tuning out the crowd noise to stare a hole through the blonde, Bridget spared a glance at her palms and grimaced like she’d touched something filthy. “That’s all you’ve got, isn’t it?” she asked. “Nothing but attitude and tits. I’ve already taken your attitude, which means those sad sacks are next.”
<“Ignore her.”> Anciline ordered her charge. <“You have reached the ropes, so take a moment to rest. Even better, come out here and catch your bre--KATHRYN, NO!”>
De Chevalier never heard her mansion’s advice. She’d stopped hearing anything the instant the American pig’s derisive words reached her ears. Scrambling to verticality with no thought save humiliation, Kathryn pounced on Bridg--“HHHFFFFHHHH!” Stroud stepped to one side and brought her left knee up into the Frenchwoman’s tummy. Angling her left arm across Kathryn’s chest before she could do more than start to double over, Bridget reached around with her free hand, snatched hold of those sleek black briefs and made most of them disappear just as Minnesota Wild yanked de Chevalier high into the air! Rocked Bottoms usually ended with her opponent delivered full force unto the deck, tonight however Bridget dropped to one knee and angled her foe across the posted joint with a hellacious Backbreaker that drained all the color from Anciline’s face. Kathryn hit the deck with all the grace of a dropped rock, one that was promptly covered by Bridget, who hooked the blonde’s legs in a Back Press that folded her in half for a count of…
ROCKED BOTTOMS BREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyECndDRuhE
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
De Chevalier twitched a shoulder up to earn incredulous jeers from the crowd and wide-eyed astonishment from Stroud. “The hell, Craig?” she huffed to the official. “That was three!”
“It was close, but it was still two. Match is still live, Bridget.”
Sweet Disaster sighed, buried her hands in Kathryn’s hair and hauled her to “AAARRRRHHH DAMMIT!” A startled shriek from Bridget when Kathryn raked a talon across her eyes! Stroud scrambled to her full height and backpedaled away from her adversary while de Chevalier barrel rolled to the edge of the ring and tumbled to the floor within inches of her manager.
Sinking to one knee beside the younger woman, Anci laid a hand on Kathryn’s shoulder and murmured, <“She is manipulating you again, Kathryn. She knows anger makes you sloppy and is making the most of--”>
<“She humiliated me!”> de Chevalier hissed even as she braced both hands to the small of her aching back. <“I will not allow that little nothing to do with me as she--”>
<“If you don’t learn to control your temper, Mademoiselle Stroud will treat you however she sees fit. And there will be nothing you can do about it.”>
Kathryn’s gaze, which had been fixed on the brunette, whipped to de Cyr. <“I control my own fate, Anciline. You would do well to remember that.”>
<“I have not forgotten, cherie. Now, do be so kind as to listen.”>
The former World Champion and current executive leaned in to whisper in her protégé’s ear. In the span of perhaps five seconds Kathryn’s expression went from neutral, to amused, to abject fury. Drawing away from the other blonde as she got to her feet, de Chevalier swept a hand toward the ramp and barked, <“Enough of your idiocy! I don’t need anyone’s advice to finish this pig!”> She locked eyes with Bridget as she said the last, her palpable scorn prompting the brunette to beckon her back to the squared circle.
“Enough whining, sweetie.” she called. “Get your lazy, pampered ass in here!”
Baring her teeth in a ferocious snarl, Kathryn lunged under the bottom rope, popped to verticality and swung for the fences with a Haymaker aimed at Stroud’s chin. Bridget avoided the first, ducked the second and pounded a punch into the blonde’s belly to stop the third. With those dangerous hands slowed down she snatched a Wristlock, dropped her hips and sent de Chevalier into the ropes with an Irish Whip. Kat hit with a ‘twang’ bounced out and came back twice as fast, her right arm whipping out like a scythe to--
Stroud dipped, hooked the exposed limb with her own arm and whipped ’round behind Kathryn to trap the other arm in identical fashion. Bracing herself even as Bridget started to pull on the Backslide, de Chevalier locked eyes with Craig, then glanced over his shoulder at something on the apron that’d stolen her attention. Startled, the ref turned to check on this possible interference which just happened to coincide with the moment, Kathryn whipped a Mule Kick up between her opponent’s thighs!
Bridget groaned and went weak in the knees, an exceptionally troubling development when she was still locked arm in arm with the Frenchwoman. Swinging around in a half circle so she didn’t have to deal with Long’s stupid face when he discovered her deception, de Chevalier slipped her right arm free, then reached down and grabbed Stroud’s left ankle. Soon as it was hers she pulled the American’s leg up and braced that shin against her thigh, then muscled Bridget into the air so she could re-secure her right arm. With Minnesota Wild strapped tight to the strong plank of her back, Kathryn hopped up and dropped to her knees to violently jar her foe’s spine from neck to tailbone! Bridget bounced loose and slopped to the deck flat on her face while Kathryn took a moment to smooth down her hair and make a few minor adjustments to her togs.
GORY NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrD8-EIRYvs
<“Excellent work, cherie.”> Anciline called, the older woman looking far more confident in the wake of their ruse. <“But now is not the time to dawdle. Finish her. Make her pay.”>
She didn’t have to say anything, de Chevalier’s hands were already in Bridget’s hair and hauling her upward, the black-clad beauty all smiles as she wedged Stroud’s noggin between her thighs. Bearing down hard enough to make the brunette mewl, Kathryn slipped her hands beneath Bridget’s biceps to butterfly her arms, but rather than lock her hands she hunched forward and cupped those hands to the back of Stroud’s thighs, just above the pits of her knees. Then she dipped a little deeper and hoisted Minnesota Wild upside down in a splay-legged bundle that the FAWNatics knew meant impending doom. Bridget knew it too and she squirmed as much as she could, but the combination of Low Blow and Neckbreaker meant she could do more than grimace and brace for impact as a grinning de Chevalier swung around to display her prize to all four sides of the arena.
<“Now pig, you finally learn your place in this world.”> Kathryn explained mere heartbeats before she rocked back on her heels and dropped to a seat to THWHUNK the crown of Stroud’s skull into the canvas!
FRANCAIS PAR LE SANG VERSE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4STU9glZDl8
De Chevalier’s grips weren’t strong enough to keep Bridget from tumbling onto her side, though she didn’t roll so far that Kathryn had to do more than reach out a hand to grab hold of the American’s hip. Drawing her onto her back with a single strong tug, de Chevalier swung a leg across her foe’s torso to straddle her waist at the same moment she claimed each wrist and pinned them high overhead.
“Hrrrrggghhhh….uuuuugggghhhh… yuhhh… you cheating bytch.” Stroud groaned when Kathryn slipped her calves beneath the brunette’s and stretched her stems at an agonizing angle via a Double-Leg Grapevine.
<“Shut up, pig.”> de Chevalier cooed to her wriggling rival. <“I’ve grown tired of your squealing.”> With that she stretched the Grapevine that much wider and brought her chest down on Bridget’s pale, strained face! The Maginot Line was hardly the showiest finisher in FAWN, yet no one could argue with the efficacy as everyone in the first several rows (no to mention the entirety of the at home audience) heard Bridget’s groans rise to panicked squeals when Kathryn secured the Breast Smother.
Denied all but the thinnest and most humid of air, Stroud twisted from side to side, first in an effort to free her head, then to keep a shoulder off the mat once Craig knelt beside the action and counted out…
ONE…
TWO…
Bridget raised her right shoulder.
Kathryn smirked, shifted her perch and ‘smecked’ her breasts back & forth against the brunette’s features for several seconds to ‘punch’ her into a stupor good for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Stroud’s left shoulder came up, albeit less energetically than her previous effort.
<“Do not resist. Defeat calls your name, pig.”>
De Chevalier pressed in all the tighter, her sternum grinding Bridget’s nose at an agonizing angle while Long counted…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOO!
Sweet Disaster didn’t actually free herself that time, Kathryn simply raised her chest to allow the red-faced wrestler one last gasp before she applied the Smother even tighter than before! Bridget offered a pitiable little murmur and some soft shifting as the ref and the crowd joined forces to count a demoralized…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The victorious Frenchwoman made no effort to move, instead she held her position, just pouring out the last bit of jugg to make sure there was no way Stroud would hear the Announcer confirm, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… KATHRYN DE CHEVALIER!”
Kathryn made no indication she’d heard her name, so intent was the blonde on doling out more jugg. Sated only when she spied the deep red flush of her opponent’s forehead, de Chevalier reared back on her haunches and mad a show of wiping the perspiration from her décolletage.
<“Take this with my regards.”> Kathryn flicked a dappled mist down onto the brunette’s upturned features. <“And in return, I shall have…”> she reached down with one hand, grabbed Stroud’s top between the cups and peeled it off with several violent tugs. <“This gaudy little trinket.”>
No response from the insensate American, which was exactly as it should be. Rising to verticality after using the shorn lyrca to swat her opponent’s breasts, de Chevalier put one boot on those conquered curves while hoisting the top overhead like a newly won championship.
<“This is mine now, pig.”> she cooed to Bridget. <“Should you dare to challenge me again, I’ll leave you with nothing but knee-pads.”>
Already dreaming of the shame she’d inflict if the whelp were foolish enough to challenge her one more time, Kathryn moved her foot to Bridget’s face and kept it there until the feed cut over to a highlight reel for tonight’s World Title tilt.
BE LEGENDARY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kmidz2s4scM
The capacity crowd of FAWNatics leapt to their feet when the lights went purple and a dozen spotlights played over that mass of humanity. Then the speakers offered up Pop Evil’s ‘Be Legendary’ and the ‘tron showed selections from Stroud’s ring career thus far interspersed with footage from her tenure in the world of rock climbing. The frenetic sweep of lights continued through most of the first verse, though their pace seemed to increase as the sound system roared:
Our name in stone, forever more.
We want more!
We want more!
We want more!
BRIDGET STROUD:
The spots abruptly trained themselves on the entryway with the third recitation and Bridget stormed through the curtain, the brunette dubbed Sweet Disaster skidding to a stop at the top of the stage just to throw her arms up for a brawny double bicep flex. Chants of ‘STROUD! STROUD! STROUD!’ rang out at once, a building roar crafted by fans of her indy stint as well as the new fans she’d made during her time in the FAWN Arena.
Smile fading to a flinty stare as the noise continued to swell, Bridget pivoted ‘round on one heel and swung her hips in time to their chant while pointing to the white ‘Sweet Disaster’ insignia stretched across her purple briefs.
Another about-face followed shortly thereafter and the copper-skinned brunette hardbody took off down the ramp, Bridget going with arms outstretched to properly thank everyone lending their support to her cause. For tonight’s shot at redemption against the malicious Madam Guillotine, Stroud wore the aforementioned purple trunks, a halter-style bikini top with one cup done in matching white and the other in a spangly purple, purple and white armbands that crisscrossed at bicep and forearm to meet at wrist and shoulder, white pads with a purple splatter pattern and purple wrestling boots that ended a few inches shy of her knees. A study in frenetic energy the entire way to ringside, Bridget made a high-speed circuit of the front row, then leapt to the apron to the top rope and stayed there for a several seconds to bask in the roar of the crowd. Once she hopped down Stroud moved over to referee Craig Long and offered him her pads and boots.
“You happen to speak any French, Craig?” Bridget asked once the zebra had granted his stamp of approval.
“Afraid not. I took a couple years of Italian in high school and some Spanish in high school. Why?”
“Just hoping someone other than Anciline would realize when Kathy’s trying to submit. Guess I’ll just have to make her tap, won’t I?”
“It’s the other universal language.” Craig agreed with a nod.
Stroud laughed, though the expression faded as she turned her attention to the stage. “Time to find out if you’re bi-lingual, you evil brat.” she murmured.
Silent until Bridget’s music faded, the Announcer swept a hand toward the stage and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce Anciline de Cyr!”
There was not even a hint of sarcasm in his words, yet the crowd reacted like the poor dope had just told the most horrible joke they’d ever heard. Loud to begin with, their jeers and derision grew all the louder when the former World Champion and current FAWN executive brushed the curtain aside and took her rightful place on the center of the stage. Showing their feelings the same concern a boot would show an anthill (which was to say, none whatsoever) de Cyr waited through the noise, knowing full well these cretins would tire themselves out sooner than later.
ANCILINE DE CYR:
Turning her attention to the squared circle and the business to be tended to within it, the French legend started down the ramp with her nose ever so slightly upturned. While not dressed for battle de Cyr still cut an impressive figure accentuated by a long sleeved, black slim-fit blouse and an equally flattering midnight-blue pencil skirt that ended two inches above the knee.
Mounting the steps without once drawing within reach of the perpetual loafers that made up the Orlando masses, de Cyr waited on the apron until Craig Long hurried over and took a seat on the second rope to allow her proper passage. From there she approached the Announcer and laid claim to his microphone.
“Get it all out of your system, please.” Anciline said with no preamble whatsoever. “I have something important to say and I’m only willing to endure so much of your boorish verbal flatulence.”
The crowd didn’t care much for her tone and let her know with another round of spirited boos.
Anciline sighed, raised her voice to be heard over the din. “At Summer Swelter, a crime was committed. My protégé was robbed of her rightful victory by the brash, impetuous girl skulking in the corner to my right.” De Cyr pivoted to Bridget, who greeted her with a saucy wink and smile. “Unfortunately for you Mademoiselle Stroud, three seconds do not a winner make, no matter what the record book might show. Your ‘victory’ was pyrrhic at best and an embarrassing fraud at worst. Such disgusting breaches of etiquette are not to be tolerated, as you’ve already learned. But the embarrassment you suffered two months prior will pale in comparison to what befalls you tonight.” Turning her back on Bridget when the brunette’s expression darkened, Anciline graced the crowd with a presence they did not deserve. “Introducing Mademoiselle Stroud’s opponent and destroyer, hailing from Marseilles, France, she stands at five feet five inches and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-four pounds, she is KATHRYN de CHEVALIER!”
LA GRENADE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=85m-Qgo9_nE
Over the pulse of a guitar and Clara Luciani’s ‘La Grenade‘, the curtain parted, and the aristocrat in the ring was joined by a phenom atop the ramp. Patently unimpressed even before she made her presence known, Kathryn managed to look even more disgusted after mere heartbeats among the FAWNatics. As per usual the French ingénue was dressed for battle, her flawless, porcelain skin standing in stark contrast to the black fightin’ two piece that hugged her curvaceous frame, the bottoms tied at her hips, and a web of lacing across her bust connecting one cup to the other, while still offering the most tantalizing view of the considerable cleavage behind those laces. From her fingertips to a little beyond each elbow stretched elegant, dark red, nylon opera gloves, while a set of stockings of the same material and color rose to mid thigh, garters connecting them to her briefs. To complete her look, she sported a pair of black leather ankle boots, not at all unlike the sort of footwear de Cyr favored during her reign of terror.
KATHRYN DE CHEVALIER:
Already bored of the rabble that made up her domain, de Chevalier perked up considerably when she locked eyes with the woman who had snuck one out from under her at Summer Swelter. Eyes narrowing to haughty, furious slots, Kathryn started toward the ring without even a single derisive word for the American idiots. The opposite was far from true, as the aisle-side FAWNatics made it a goal to focus all of their disdain on Anciline’s protégé and to their credit it was in fact very, very loud. But sheer volume wasn’t nearly enough to faze the aristocratic blonde, not when she had Stroud in her sights.
Craig was still waiting by the apron to bid de Chevalier welcome, but Anciline shooed him aside to do the honor herself. Offering a single nod to her manager and mentor, Kathryn went straight for the center of the ring and might have made it to Bridget’s corner if not for the timely interjection of the referee.
Ending the encroachment with a raised hand and a hissed <“Idiot!”> de Chevalier backed into her corner and settled in, to suffer through the last, albeit seemingly endless moments of the scheming cheater Bridget Stroud.
Blonde and brunette were out of their corners the instant the bell sounded, both quite eager to repay the slights they’d endured during their first encounter at Summer Swelter. Lips twisted into a smirk as she drank in the anger on Stroud’s face, de Chevalier started to say something only to elect silence when Bridget lunged in for a Collar & Elbow NO! Bridget went low and around in a beautiful go-behind that let her slap a Waistlock on the startled Frenchwoman. Hands locked tight, she yanked Kathryn off her feet and treated her to a violent rag-doll shake before she twisted her hips and dumped the curvaceous blonde onto all fours like it was nothing.
“Get up!” Stroud barked even as she snapped a taunting kick into de Chevalier’s rump. “Get up and fight you chickenshyt coward!”
De Chevalier did just that, the infuriated battler on her feet in a blink and locked up with Stroud immediately thereafter. Clamping onto the insolent American with a handful of hair and cheeks (she’d mashed Bridget’s mug into an embarrassing fish face) Kathryn gave the brunette a hard shake and sneered, <“Don’t EVER lay a hand on me, unworthy loser PIGUUUGGHHH!”>
Stroud twisted on her left foot so she could bring her right thigh up into the other wrestler’s belly with a big broadside Kneelift. Neither this nor the second attempt were enough to break de Chevalier’s grip entirely, yet they loosened it enough for the brunette to twist ‘round behind by only sacrificing a few strands of hair. Another go behind led to another Waistlock and led to another swift Takedown, but now Stroud dropped to her knees which meant de Chevalier landed flat on her chest and belly. Straddling the blonde’s back as soon as she landed, Stroud dug her knees into Kathryn’s flanks so she couldn’t escape before Sweet Disaster mussed her hair in a showing that was as enthusiastic as it was rude!
“What’s wrong, don’t like disrespect Kathy?” Stroud taunted over her foe’s furious hissing. “Don’t like getting treated shabby?” Bridget buried a hand in the blonde’s hair, wrenched her head back and peppered both cheeks with quick, taunting slaps! “You better start liking it, because I’m doin’ it bell to bell!”
<“The f*ck you will, pig!”> Kathryn fumed as she struggled in the confines of the mount. <“Get your sloppy ass off me before I HHHRRRGGGGHH!”>
Bridget doubled down on the hair-hold to ensure there was even more momentum when she THUMPED the arrogant wrestler’s face into the thinly-sheathed plywood! De Chevalier groaned, a sound of pain that changed to one of fury and humiliation when Stroud slapped the back of her head several more times, then stretched out atop her blonde cushion and spun through a half circle that left her straddling the back of Kathryn’s skull. This was a terrible position for a smother, but a perfect one for paddling de Chevalier’s haughty behind, which is exactly what Bridget did, a quick pitter-patter spanking that got the FAWNatics on their feet a few seconds before Kathryn finally did the same.
Wide-eyed with rage in the wake of such derisive treatment, the French Fatale threw herself at Stroud with talons aimed straight for the brunette’s eyes--“NNNGGGHHHH!” Bridget stepped in and twisted to the side, bringing her left arm up as she did to THWHAP that bicep offa de Chevalier’s chin with a perfect European Uppercut! Caught flush by the blow, Kathryn wheeled around and would’ve pitched chest-first into the ropes if the former rock climbing standout hadn’t grabbed her by the waistband and the scruff of the neck! Whipping around so they both faced the opposite side of the squared circle, Bridget rushed across the canvas and pitched de Chevalier over the top rope to land at Anciline’s feet!
“You’re her translator, right?” Bridget asked the legend over the noise of those assembled. “Tell your girl I’m gonna whip her smarmy, cheap-shotting ass all night long!” Promise made, Stroud retreated to the middle of the ring and stretched her arms wide to bask in the love of the crowd.
Kathryn on the other hand didn’t bask in anything, though she was positively boiling by the time she returned to boot-leather about five seconds into Long’s count. Upper lip curled in a hateful sneer, the blonde bombshell lunged for the apron only to cry out in surprised fury when Anciline grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her backward! Rounding on the legend in a trice, de Chevalier stepped close and hissed, <“What the hell do you think you’re do--”>
CRACK!
Kathryn’s surprise grew to genuine astonishment when de Cyr raised a hand and fetched her a brisk slap across the face. <“Get a hold of yourself this instant.” the executive and former World Champion said in response to the younger woman’s wide, incredulous eyes. <“She is goading you again, Kathryn. Trying to draw you into another mistake. Do you really want to go zero for two against that impudent girl?”>
De Chevalier clenched her jaw, but made no effort to stifle the growl behind it as she shook her head ‘no’. <“Then take a deep breath.”> Anciline went on. <“Remember who you are and what you’re capable of. Mademoiselle already knows how painful it is to cheat you out of a win. Show her how much worse it gets when she loses. Smother the brat early and often. Be patient in your efforts. Implacable. She will yield. You will stand victorious.”>
Kathryn nodded once. <“I will make her beg.”>
This seemed to satisfy de Cyr, so Kathryn returned her attention to the ring and climbed onto the apron with about three seconds to spare. Flicking a dismissive hand in the brunette’s direction even as she glared daggers at the official, de Chevalier waited until Long was between his charges before she slipped back into the ring. <“Come to me, pig.”> the Frenchwoman called to her foe with beckoning fingers. <“It’s time you learned that simple humiliation is only the--”>
“Shut your mouth.” Bridget snapped as she began to close on de Chevalier. “Does that one translate easy enough? Or how about this one? Talk shyt, get--”
’Hit’ never made it off her tongue because Kathryn pounced on her to initiate the most spirited clench of the match so far. From up on tiptoe to down on one knee and everything in between, blonde and brunette put their considerable strength into marching her foe around the squared circle, but neither could control her foe for more than a couple of steps before she’d find herself back on the defensive. This sort of stalemate often resulted in a break-apart shove sooner than later, but Bridget and Kathryn caromed around the ring for more than fifteen seconds without showing any interest in letting go. It wasn’t until Stroud finally succeeded in forcing her opponent into a corner that de Chevalier hooked a foot over the bottom rope and demanded, <“Break!”>
Craig, who’d been diligently brushing up on the two years of French he’d taken in high school, patted Stroud on the right shoulder and said, “Ease off, Bridget. Let’s have a clean break, ok?”
Stroud wasn’t certain that was possible considering her opposition, but she dutifully broke the grapple, raised her hands overhead and-- Sweet Disaster feigned a step back only to brazenly chest up on the French Fatale, her more modest assets still quite effective at pressing de Chevalier’s girls snug to her own sternum. “Hope you like pressure, baby.” Stroud told Kathryn as she backpedaled away before the blonde could fully process the American’s audacity. “Because I’m gonna be on you all night. Gonna have you huffing and puffing like an old lady by the time this is OOOFFFHHH!”
De Chevalier stormed out of the corner and raised her hands for another Lock-Up only to lunge in on one knee to deliver a Headbutt that THWHUMPED the pit of Bridget’s stomach! Unprepared for the heavy body blow, Stroud folded up and promptly got caught in a Headlock that Kathryn used to sling her over one hip en route to a BOOMING return to the canvas! Stretched out on her left side, Kathryn cranked down on the simple hold while simultaneously keeping her head pulled back to avoid Stroud’s flailing hands.
<“Now pig, you belong to me.”> de Chevalier purred as her latest constriction earned a loud groan from Minnesota Wild. Pleased by the sound, Kathryn rocked in place to increase the pressure, then halved the Headlock to snatch Stroud’s left wrist when she tried to pound some punches into her stomach. <“Such pathetic flailing.”> the Frenchwoman sniffed after she’d secured Bridget’s forearm between her thighs in a snug Scissors. <“If you’re going to squirm and writhe, you can at least make it worth my time.”>
Down to one free hand, Stroud balled it into a fist and pounded away at her attacker’s shoulders and upper back. “Snide bytch, leggo of MMMMPPPHHHHH!”
De Chevalier yoked up and sidled forward to force Bridget’s startled mug into the curve of her left breast! Stroud squealed, beat her heels against the mat, then raked her nails down the blonde’s back, all to no avail. <“Why do you struggle, pig?”> Kathryn teased. <“Surely you understand this is your destiny? This pitiable squalling and squealing is not actual competition, it’s simply a harbinger of inevitable domination. A warning to the rest of the American trash that I am a raging fire here to burn away all of their disgusting mediocritOHNOYOUDON’T!”>
Stroud, coming to realize she couldn’t just power free of her predicament, reached ‘round the blonde’s lower back to grab hold at her right hip. From there she rolled from left to right, a shift that stacked de Chevalier on her shoulders for a count of…
ONE…
TWO…
Kathryn popped her hips simultaneous with ‘TWO!’ to return to their original arrangement, only now she aggressively smashed her breast down on the brunette’s face instead of simply smothering her. <“You will NOT steal from me again, thief-pig!”> de Chevalier hissed into her foe’s increasingly flushed features. <“You will do nothing but beg and plead for the mercy of my HHRRRGGHH!”>
The blonde had leaned quite a bit closer to deliver her galling prophecy and Bridget made her pay for it by ‘smecking’ an Iron Claw atop those haughty features! The surprise of her counter grip allowed Stroud to twist her head to one side, thus allowing her to breathe while still enduring the painful strain of the Headlock and the concerning pressure of French jugg-weight. Bridget didn’t panic though, she pressed the flat of her palm against Kathryn’s nose and continued to bear down on the blonde’s skull with a grip that’d quickly become recognized as one of the strongest in FAWN. “Yuuuhhhh… you squeeze me, I squeeze you, punk.” Stroud gasped after she’d managed a few deep breaths. “And we both know I squeeze harder than yoOOOWWW!”
Disgusted by the sound of her opponent’s voice, de Chevalier halved the Headlock again, crooked the fingers on that hand into a talon and raaaaaaaaked them across Bridget’s eyes! Doing so didn’t end the Iron Claw but it loosened to such a degree that Kathryn just grabbed hold of the American’s wrist and prized it off her face. She followed this with another harsh rake of Stroud’s eyes, despite the protests of Craig Long, the fans and Bridget herself. <“Your defiance is pathetic. It would be beneath contempt if not for the shameful error of our previous meeting.”> the French Fatale hissed as she used a double handful of hair to bring the brunette to verticality. <“But this is a mistake I mean to correct in short order. And it starts by smashing you to a mewling paste!”>
Stroud didn’t get a chance to answer before de Chevalier helped herself to a wrist and sent her sprinting across the squared circle to BWUNG spine-first against the turnbuckles! Kathryn hung back long enough to ensure there would be no evasive cowardice from Sweet Disaster and once convinced she took off after her prey at top speed. The impact of buckles against back told Bridget all she needed to know of her placement in the ring, unfortunately it didn’t tell her anything about her opponent and this information remained a mystery up until the moment de Chevalier took to the skies and THWHAPPED every bit of her hundred and thirty-plus pounds against the blinded brunette in a gorgeous Avalanche Splash!
AVALANCHE SPLASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb0z_r8-XFE
Bouncing away from the collision like it was nothing, Kathryn noted Stroud trying to stumble away so she pressed a hand to the other wrestler’s sternum and shoved her into position. <“Where do you think you’re going, pig?”> she sneered. <“Your freedom requires a heavy toll, one you’re not prepared to--”>
“Guuuhhh, can’t you just shut the f*ck up?” Stroud huffed. “I’m so sick of your stupid mouHHRRGGH!”
Infuriated by the interruption, de Chevalier grabbed the middle rope on either side of her prey to ensure that much more ‘oomph’ on the half dozen Shoulderblocks she drilled into the pit of the American’s tummy! Calling a halt to this offensive as soon as she heard the official hurry over, Kathryn spun around on one heel and chased the poor dope halfway across the ring with a malicious stream of invective in her native tongue. Craig didn’t know what any of it meant, but by the time he’d regained his bearings de Chevalier had returned to the corner where Stroud gasped for air. <“I wonder, pig. Are you simply short of breath or are you coming to grips with your own crushing inadequacies? Don’t tell me now, I’d rather make an educated guess.”>
No response which was just as it should be. Filling her hands with the brunette’s hair for the simple joy of wrenching her foe’s head to and fro, the black-clad Frenchwoman climbed onto the bottom rope so her dangerous curves were perfectly lined up with Bridget’s fa--“MMMMRRRRPPPPHHHH!”
Already muffled, Stroud’s startled yelp was totally overwhelmed by the roar of the crowd when de Chevalier guided the brunette’s face into her all enveloping cleavage! Palming her own elbows for extra pressure, Kat rolled her shoulders back ‘n forth while slowly but surely tightening the coil of her arms. Offering those assembled a snide, knowing smile as she continued to pour punishment from her decanter of décolletage, de Chevalier noted, <“The quality of her wails suggest she’s having something of an existential crisis, though all the suckling and snuffling COULD be an indicator of poor cardio.”> She gave Bridget another rough scrubbin’, then leaned down and planted a kiss on the crown of her skull.
This close quarters domination would’ve continued if not for Craig, who hurried over to his charges and simply began to count. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR!”
Kat hopped down, wiped a hand over her chest and promptly CRAAACKED that sweat-damp palm across Sweet Disaster’s cheek! <“This is not an escape, pig.”> the blonde explained after she’d helped herself to another Wristlock. <“This is me allowing you to stumble away so I may run you to ground at my leisure.”>
With that she stepped back, dropped a hip and yanked Stroud forward into--“OOOOFFFFHH!” De Chevalier pulled Bridget into a huge Kneelift, then reset the Irish Whip and sent the brunette on her way to the far corner. Unlike her previous trip, Stroud couldn’t muster the wherewithal to turn around, meaning she hit the top turnbuckle chest-first with a BWUUUNG that earned a grimace of sympathetic anguish from several ringside FAWNatics. These empathetic souls were still rubbing at their sternums when Kathryn worsened Bridget’s situation by crushing her with the second Avalanche Splash in less than a minute!
REAR AVALANCHE SPLASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DMFy9CxoA8
Quick to mount the second rope, de Chevalier pressed both hands to Stroud’s face, then slipped her index fingers into the sides of Bridget’s mouth to peel her lips back in a garish smile! <“Smile, pig!”> de Chevalier demanded of the protesting brunette. <“Better yet, oink for your disgusting followers!”> Removing the fishhooks so she could cup Stroud’s chin in her right hand, the Frenchwoman jammed her middle and index fingers into the brunette’s nostrils and wrenched her head back at a sharp angle!
The pain of those encroaching digits broke through the fog in Bridget’s mind and she scrabbled at Kathryn’s wrists all while shouting “ROPES!” in a high, nasal whine.
Distorted though they were, the intention of her wails were unmistakable and it wasn’t more than a few seconds before Craig Long was closing in to check on his charges. “All right Kathryn, hop down from there and let’s have a clean--” He didn’t have to say ‘break’ because de Chevalier dismounted without need of further prompting, she even had both hands raised to shoulder lev-- jeers from the Slaybor Day throng as the busty blonde made a show of wiping her fingers clean between her opponent’s shoulders.
Treating the zebra to a raised eyebrow in response to his disapproving look, Kathryn asked, <“She is trash, no? I am simply doing my part to dispose of her in the proper fashion.”> The soft chuckle from Anciline told Long de Chevalier wasn’t nearly as sincere as her tone indicated, but it was still a clean break so he gave her the benefit of a doubt only to immediately regret it when she rushed in and slammed a shoulder into the center of Bridget’s back!
Patently ignoring Craig now, Kathryn seized Stroud’s wrists and tossed her arms over the top rope, then reached through the gap between top and middle strands to lay claim to them once more. From there she raised her right foot, braced it between the American’s shoulders and puuuuussssshed forward while craaaaaaanking back on those captured arms in a particularly cruel variation on the Surfboard!
“AAAAHHHH FAAAAAAAAAHK!” Bridget shrieked in abject anguish as Kathryn tried to tear her shoulders out of socket. “GODDAMMNED BYTCH, LEMME GOOOOOOO!”
Long proved a bit more diplomatic (albeit no less emphatic) in his order, or rather, count, of “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
De Chevalier released the Surfboard with a disgusted flourish, buried both hands in Stroud’s hair and dragged her out of the buck--“NNGGH!” Bridget’s knees shivered when Kathryn slammed a Headbutt into the nape of her neck, but the tenacious grip on her hair ensured Sweet Disaster didn’t collapse just yet. Relinquishing the hair-hold only after she’d slipped her head beneath Stroud’s left arm, de Chevalier wrapped her right arm around the other wrestler’s waist and pressed her left hand to the back of foe’s left thigh. From there she muscled Bridget up onto her right shoulder, stomped forward and treated her to a slumped seat in the high rent district. <“Take a moment to enjoy this view, pig.”> Kathryn taunted after she’d climbed onto the middle rope. <“Surely you will never achieve such heights again, not even should you scale another of your pathetic mountains.”>
Stroud offered no reply to this, so the French Fatale repeated her previous steps to secure the Backdrop Suplex, only from a much greater elevation. Muscling the former rock climber into an awkward perch on the top turnbuckle, Kathryn dipped her knees and hoisted Stroud free of her moorings in preparation for the long, long trip to--‘OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!’ from the crowd when Minnesota Wild twisted over and around, Bridget stretched out full length atop de Chevalier’s chest to transform the Suplex into a sawed-off Crossbody that brought her down on Kathryn with a ring-shivering THAWHAM!
Kathryn’s legs shot skyward on impact, so Bridget hooked them both and swiftly transitioned to a Back Press that kept the squirming blonde glued to the canvas through…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Kat disappointed the FAWNatics and greatly relieved her mentor by bucking free of the pin approximately half a second before ‘THREE!’
Aghast at the notion of her protégé coughing up another one to the damnably tenacious brunette, Anciline pounded both palms against the apron and shouted, <“To me, Kathryn! To me, you must regroup!”>
For all her haughtiness de Chevalier did not argue with the older woman, indeed she wasted no time barreling in the direction of de Cyr’s voice. Nerves soothed considerably once she’d hooked an arm around Kathryn’s waist and drawn her under the bottom rope, Anciline pulled the younger woman away from the squared circle to whisper some guidance in one ear. <“I know it is difficult, but you must resist your desire to humiliate this one, at least for the moment.”>
De Chevalier was still achy and disoriented in the wake of the thwarted Superplex, but that didn’t stop her from shaking her head ‘no’. <“Shuuuhhh… she stole my victory, Anciline. She must be made to suff--”>
<“And she will, once you’ve won.”> de Cyr interrupted. <“But if you don’t curb these gaudy theatrics she will steal ANOTHER victory and then you will know true humilia--”>
A thunderous roar from the crowd drew their attention to the ring just in time to watch Bridget Stroud vault over the top rope in a Suicide Crossbody! Anciline stepped back without hesitation or grabbing hold of her charge, a lapse which proved disastrous for Kathryn as Sweet Disaster smashed her to the thinly-padded concrete floor!
SUICIDE PLANCHA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mx8dRfdwFxY
Bridget scrambled to one knee, snatched hold of the Frenchwoman’s hair and yanked her noggin up for at least half a dozen straight right hands administered directly to her foe’s forehead. De Cyr took a half step back, a small movement that still caused Stroud to rise to her full height in the blink of an eye. “Don’t even think about it.” she warned the executive. “This is between she and I.”
“It most certainly is.” Anciline answered in perfect English. “Which is why I would suggest you don’t waste your breath threatening me.”
Bridget started to reply, but held off in favor of delivering a single quick (and perfectly placed) Elbow Drop to the pit of Kathryn’s stomach. Filling her hands with golden locks when de Chevalier rolled to one side, the brunette yanked her head off the floor just to give it a single spiteful bounce. With Kathryn suitably stunned, Minnesota Wild returned her attention to the FAWN executive. “I’m not threatening you, Anciline. If I was, I’d be a lot less polite about it.”
De Cyr offered no comment, so Bridget doubled down on the hair-hold, hauled the blonde to verticality and bundled her under the bottom rope with a few rude shoves. Stroud slid in after her, popped up and raced to the far side as Kathryn clambered to all fours. The French Fatale had just regained her footing when Bridget almost tore her out of her boots with a Spear that buried one shoulder in the blonde’s vulnerable belly!
The crowd wanted a cover but Bridget ignored them in favor of tugging her adversary to a woozy seat. “Where’s that trash talk now, huh baby? Where’d it go?” Stroud questioned de Chevalier as she took the other wrester’s left wrist in her right hand and vice versa.
<“Shuuuhhh…shut your mouth, pig.”> Kathryn groaned. <“Your words disgust MMMRRRGGGHH!”>
Bridget drove a knee between her blonde’s shoulders and wrenched back on her grips to secure a nasty Straightjacket Chinlock that had de Chevalier rasping and beating her heels against the canvas. The predicament brought Craig Long over to check for a submission, at least that’s what he would’ve done if Stroud didn’t get to her feet and force Kathryn to do the same.
<“Free yourself, Kathryn.”> Anciline told her charge. <“She mustn’t be allowed to gain any momen--”>
Bridget leapt, jammed her knees between de Chevalier’s shoulders and laid out on her back to THWHUMP all the air from her prey with a pitiless Lungblower! The jarring jolt bounced Kathryn onto her knees, but with Stroud’s Straightjacket still in place she couldn’t create much in the way of separation. Indeed she was yanked even closer when Minnesota Wild (now seated directly behind her penitent adversary) wedged her feet into the Frenchwoman’s thighs and wrenched her back into a spine-wrenching arch atop the points of her knees!
LUNGBLOWER & STRAIGHTJACKET STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARVQud4UKPw
“Run your mouth now, baby.” Bridget demanded as she glared down into her opponent’s strained, upturned face. “Go on, I said run your mouth now!”
<“Kiss my ass, pig.”> de Chevalier’s tone required no translation. <“This is but a mild inconvenience, I will still make you beg before AAAARRRRRGGGHHHHH STAAAAAAAAAHHHHP YOU BYTCH!”>
Stroud worked her knees a little higher while simultaneously YANKING down on the Straightjacket over and over again in a concentrated effort to snap Kathryn’s will. This rough treatment also set the terrible tyro’s juggs a jostling in their cups and raised a round of salacious cheers and whistles that made her loathe Bridget Stroud all the more. Slowing to a stop after almost ten seconds of creative chiropractic exercises, the brunette leaned in even closer and planted a smooch on the center of Kathryn’s forehead before aggressively grrrrrriiiiiinding the point of her chin across that same spot!
<“INSUFFERABLE PIG!”> de Chevalier roared, her usual haughty ennui cracking in places to show the pain and embarrassment lurking just underneath. <“I’ll make you scream for daring to demean RRRGGGGGHHH!”>
Stroud loosened the hold enough to shift her right foot from Kathryn’s thigh to the center of her back before she yoked it down tight again! Doing so put even more strain on the blonde’s spine and the FAWNatics weren’t whistling anymore, now they were demanding she ‘TAP! TAP! TAP!’
“What do you say, Kathryn?” Craig was as close to the action as he dared. “Do you submit? Just nod yes or no!”
<“NO!”> Kathryn barked, her voice quite ragged from the constriction of the Straightjacket. <“This vacuous tramp is no match for MEEEEEAAAARRRRHHHH!”
Bridget switched back to her original double knee arrangement and treated the Frenchwoman to another round of chin-grinding, this time focusing on the bridge of Kathryn’s nose. “Wanna know what I think?” Brunette and blonde were eye to eye, despite their vastly different arrangements.
<“You don’t think, pig.”>
“I think you’re an overrated piece of trash.”
<“Your words are so much meaningless noise, bytch.”>
“I think you’re nothing more than a playground bully with a slightly bigger budget.”
<“Squeal all you can now, it will be much more difficult when I’m--”>
“And I think these people are going to lose their shyt when I rip your top off and throw it into the third row.”
A long moment of silence before de Chevalier hissed, <“You wouldn’t dare.”>
“I knew you understood.” Stroud’s dark eyes gleamed. “Then understand this, I’m going to submit you in the middle of this ring,” she pulled her feet away, sidled forward and locked both legs around Kathryn’s waist with an audible ‘smeck’, “and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it!”
The change in focus from spine to ribs didn’t make things easier for the Frenchwoman, if anything her features flushed a few shades darker as Bridget worked to cut her in half with the Scissors. <“Put the pain out of your mind, Kathryn.”> Anciline called from the outside in a tone that suggested she knew this was far easier said than done. <“Her holds are strong, but her will is not. Escape this trifling annoyance and she will--yes! Just like that!”>
Kathryn didn’t actually escape, but she got her lower legs out from underneath, which in turn made it much easier to scoot and slide her way toward-- <“NNNNGGGGGHHH!”>
Another groan from Kathryn and a curse from Anciline when Bridget rolled the blonde onto her stomach and maneuvered her way into a heavy seat in the hollow of her foe’s aching spine! Feet planted flat, Stroud hunched forward, then leaned back on her heels, the former rock climbing standout putting her considerable strength toward bending de Chevalier into a sobbing ‘C’.
“What do you say, Kathryn?” Long asked after another fifteen seconds of grim-faced squirming from the trapped blonde.
No outburst now, Anciline’s protégé only shook her head ‘no’ and continued inching her way across the mat. Stroud made no effort to stop this progress, instead she focused on making Kathryn’s journey as hellish as possible by constantly jostling the blonde’s crisscrossed forearms over her throat. To make matters worse she’d occasionally hoist her butt off of the blonde’s lower back and hold the squat for a second or two before smashing down on de Chevalier’s vulnerable vertebrae. Also worth noting was the abrupt lack of trash talk between the rivals. Their earlier taunting and disrespect had given way to grim silence as the blonde strove to escape her debilitating confines and the brunette sought to submit her adversary in the center of the ring.
Bridget’s grip never wavered but neither did Kathryn’s progress and after an awkward, shuffling half circle turn she managed to drape her right foot over the bottom rope. <“Break, damn you.”> de Chevalier hissed. <“Get your disgusting ass off of me.”>
Stroud finally relinquished her control over Kathryn’s wrists, allowing the curvaceous blonde to slop to the mat with a heavy sigh. So deep was her relief that she didn’t realize Sweet Disaster hadn’t stood up until Bridget grabbed hold of her biceps and yanked them up and back to drape across the planks of her thighs! <“ROPES!”> the infuriated blonde shrieked even as she tucked her chin to protect against the Camel Clutch. <“GET YOUR SLOPPY ASS OFF ME, YOU CHEATING OOOHHH HOW DARE YOU!?”>
Bridget raised both hands like she meant to secure the Chinlock, instead she reached down and grabbed a copious handful of French jugg! Attacking those vulnerable orbs with all the strength honed during her previous occupation, Bridget tried to gouge some quit out of de Chevalier’s chest up until the moment the ref hurried over. Then she tugged in opposite directions so she could SMACK ‘em together in time with Craig’s count of, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Stroud got up and stomped away from the ropes, leaving a furious, wide-eyed Kathryn to rise to one knee while holding a protective arm to her chest. Tuning out the crowd noise to stare a hole through the blonde, Bridget spared a glance at her palms and grimaced like she’d touched something filthy. “That’s all you’ve got, isn’t it?” she asked. “Nothing but attitude and tits. I’ve already taken your attitude, which means those sad sacks are next.”
<“Ignore her.”> Anciline ordered her charge. <“You have reached the ropes, so take a moment to rest. Even better, come out here and catch your bre--KATHRYN, NO!”>
De Chevalier never heard her mansion’s advice. She’d stopped hearing anything the instant the American pig’s derisive words reached her ears. Scrambling to verticality with no thought save humiliation, Kathryn pounced on Bridg--“HHHFFFFHHHH!” Stroud stepped to one side and brought her left knee up into the Frenchwoman’s tummy. Angling her left arm across Kathryn’s chest before she could do more than start to double over, Bridget reached around with her free hand, snatched hold of those sleek black briefs and made most of them disappear just as Minnesota Wild yanked de Chevalier high into the air! Rocked Bottoms usually ended with her opponent delivered full force unto the deck, tonight however Bridget dropped to one knee and angled her foe across the posted joint with a hellacious Backbreaker that drained all the color from Anciline’s face. Kathryn hit the deck with all the grace of a dropped rock, one that was promptly covered by Bridget, who hooked the blonde’s legs in a Back Press that folded her in half for a count of…
ROCKED BOTTOMS BREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyECndDRuhE
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
De Chevalier twitched a shoulder up to earn incredulous jeers from the crowd and wide-eyed astonishment from Stroud. “The hell, Craig?” she huffed to the official. “That was three!”
“It was close, but it was still two. Match is still live, Bridget.”
Sweet Disaster sighed, buried her hands in Kathryn’s hair and hauled her to “AAARRRRHHH DAMMIT!” A startled shriek from Bridget when Kathryn raked a talon across her eyes! Stroud scrambled to her full height and backpedaled away from her adversary while de Chevalier barrel rolled to the edge of the ring and tumbled to the floor within inches of her manager.
Sinking to one knee beside the younger woman, Anci laid a hand on Kathryn’s shoulder and murmured, <“She is manipulating you again, Kathryn. She knows anger makes you sloppy and is making the most of--”>
<“She humiliated me!”> de Chevalier hissed even as she braced both hands to the small of her aching back. <“I will not allow that little nothing to do with me as she--”>
<“If you don’t learn to control your temper, Mademoiselle Stroud will treat you however she sees fit. And there will be nothing you can do about it.”>
Kathryn’s gaze, which had been fixed on the brunette, whipped to de Cyr. <“I control my own fate, Anciline. You would do well to remember that.”>
<“I have not forgotten, cherie. Now, do be so kind as to listen.”>
The former World Champion and current executive leaned in to whisper in her protégé’s ear. In the span of perhaps five seconds Kathryn’s expression went from neutral, to amused, to abject fury. Drawing away from the other blonde as she got to her feet, de Chevalier swept a hand toward the ramp and barked, <“Enough of your idiocy! I don’t need anyone’s advice to finish this pig!”> She locked eyes with Bridget as she said the last, her palpable scorn prompting the brunette to beckon her back to the squared circle.
“Enough whining, sweetie.” she called. “Get your lazy, pampered ass in here!”
Baring her teeth in a ferocious snarl, Kathryn lunged under the bottom rope, popped to verticality and swung for the fences with a Haymaker aimed at Stroud’s chin. Bridget avoided the first, ducked the second and pounded a punch into the blonde’s belly to stop the third. With those dangerous hands slowed down she snatched a Wristlock, dropped her hips and sent de Chevalier into the ropes with an Irish Whip. Kat hit with a ‘twang’ bounced out and came back twice as fast, her right arm whipping out like a scythe to--
Stroud dipped, hooked the exposed limb with her own arm and whipped ’round behind Kathryn to trap the other arm in identical fashion. Bracing herself even as Bridget started to pull on the Backslide, de Chevalier locked eyes with Craig, then glanced over his shoulder at something on the apron that’d stolen her attention. Startled, the ref turned to check on this possible interference which just happened to coincide with the moment, Kathryn whipped a Mule Kick up between her opponent’s thighs!
Bridget groaned and went weak in the knees, an exceptionally troubling development when she was still locked arm in arm with the Frenchwoman. Swinging around in a half circle so she didn’t have to deal with Long’s stupid face when he discovered her deception, de Chevalier slipped her right arm free, then reached down and grabbed Stroud’s left ankle. Soon as it was hers she pulled the American’s leg up and braced that shin against her thigh, then muscled Bridget into the air so she could re-secure her right arm. With Minnesota Wild strapped tight to the strong plank of her back, Kathryn hopped up and dropped to her knees to violently jar her foe’s spine from neck to tailbone! Bridget bounced loose and slopped to the deck flat on her face while Kathryn took a moment to smooth down her hair and make a few minor adjustments to her togs.
GORY NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrD8-EIRYvs
<“Excellent work, cherie.”> Anciline called, the older woman looking far more confident in the wake of their ruse. <“But now is not the time to dawdle. Finish her. Make her pay.”>
She didn’t have to say anything, de Chevalier’s hands were already in Bridget’s hair and hauling her upward, the black-clad beauty all smiles as she wedged Stroud’s noggin between her thighs. Bearing down hard enough to make the brunette mewl, Kathryn slipped her hands beneath Bridget’s biceps to butterfly her arms, but rather than lock her hands she hunched forward and cupped those hands to the back of Stroud’s thighs, just above the pits of her knees. Then she dipped a little deeper and hoisted Minnesota Wild upside down in a splay-legged bundle that the FAWNatics knew meant impending doom. Bridget knew it too and she squirmed as much as she could, but the combination of Low Blow and Neckbreaker meant she could do more than grimace and brace for impact as a grinning de Chevalier swung around to display her prize to all four sides of the arena.
<“Now pig, you finally learn your place in this world.”> Kathryn explained mere heartbeats before she rocked back on her heels and dropped to a seat to THWHUNK the crown of Stroud’s skull into the canvas!
FRANCAIS PAR LE SANG VERSE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4STU9glZDl8
De Chevalier’s grips weren’t strong enough to keep Bridget from tumbling onto her side, though she didn’t roll so far that Kathryn had to do more than reach out a hand to grab hold of the American’s hip. Drawing her onto her back with a single strong tug, de Chevalier swung a leg across her foe’s torso to straddle her waist at the same moment she claimed each wrist and pinned them high overhead.
“Hrrrrggghhhh….uuuuugggghhhh… yuhhh… you cheating bytch.” Stroud groaned when Kathryn slipped her calves beneath the brunette’s and stretched her stems at an agonizing angle via a Double-Leg Grapevine.
<“Shut up, pig.”> de Chevalier cooed to her wriggling rival. <“I’ve grown tired of your squealing.”> With that she stretched the Grapevine that much wider and brought her chest down on Bridget’s pale, strained face! The Maginot Line was hardly the showiest finisher in FAWN, yet no one could argue with the efficacy as everyone in the first several rows (no to mention the entirety of the at home audience) heard Bridget’s groans rise to panicked squeals when Kathryn secured the Breast Smother.
Denied all but the thinnest and most humid of air, Stroud twisted from side to side, first in an effort to free her head, then to keep a shoulder off the mat once Craig knelt beside the action and counted out…
ONE…
TWO…
Bridget raised her right shoulder.
Kathryn smirked, shifted her perch and ‘smecked’ her breasts back & forth against the brunette’s features for several seconds to ‘punch’ her into a stupor good for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Stroud’s left shoulder came up, albeit less energetically than her previous effort.
<“Do not resist. Defeat calls your name, pig.”>
De Chevalier pressed in all the tighter, her sternum grinding Bridget’s nose at an agonizing angle while Long counted…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOO!
Sweet Disaster didn’t actually free herself that time, Kathryn simply raised her chest to allow the red-faced wrestler one last gasp before she applied the Smother even tighter than before! Bridget offered a pitiable little murmur and some soft shifting as the ref and the crowd joined forces to count a demoralized…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The victorious Frenchwoman made no effort to move, instead she held her position, just pouring out the last bit of jugg to make sure there was no way Stroud would hear the Announcer confirm, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… KATHRYN DE CHEVALIER!”
Kathryn made no indication she’d heard her name, so intent was the blonde on doling out more jugg. Sated only when she spied the deep red flush of her opponent’s forehead, de Chevalier reared back on her haunches and mad a show of wiping the perspiration from her décolletage.
<“Take this with my regards.”> Kathryn flicked a dappled mist down onto the brunette’s upturned features. <“And in return, I shall have…”> she reached down with one hand, grabbed Stroud’s top between the cups and peeled it off with several violent tugs. <“This gaudy little trinket.”>
No response from the insensate American, which was exactly as it should be. Rising to verticality after using the shorn lyrca to swat her opponent’s breasts, de Chevalier put one boot on those conquered curves while hoisting the top overhead like a newly won championship.
<“This is mine now, pig.”> she cooed to Bridget. <“Should you dare to challenge me again, I’ll leave you with nothing but knee-pads.”>
Already dreaming of the shame she’d inflict if the whelp were foolish enough to challenge her one more time, Kathryn moved her foot to Bridget’s face and kept it there until the feed cut over to a highlight reel for tonight’s World Title tilt.