Post by hawkeye on Oct 11, 2021 0:29:10 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Blue Bay, Florida, stands at five feet three inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and seventeen pounds. She is the Slappin’ Sensation MACY RENQUIST!”
MESS AROUND:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJlFKmfZGL4
MACY RENQUIST:
A twangy guitar riff floated through the speakers, their massive amplification the only thing preventing the tune from being overwhelmed by the thousand-fold ’UH-OH’s! bellowed by the FAWNatics as the Beach Blaster made her arrival at the biggest show of the year. Hands stuffed into the pockets of her pink & white varsity jacket, the svelte blonde striker reached up and pulled away one of her oversized headphones, then nodded and set it back into place. “Damn, you guys are LOUD. Means I’m gonna have to slap Liz extra hard.” she waited a beat before winking to the camera. “Not that I’m complaining.”
On that note Macy started down the aisle, the former Lightweight Champion shooting back and forth to share the tiniest bit of her percussive palms with all those outstretched to greet her. A quick circuit around the squared circle let her do the same for everyone at ringside, then it was onto the apron and through the ropes in the blink of an eye. Claiming the center like her name was written there, Renquist’s million watt smile grew that much wider once she doffed her jacket to reveal a strappy white two piece with pink trim and matching accents. Her knee and elbow pads were an identical black, while the ankle wraps she wore in place of boots were matte pink, an homage to her Astonishing trainer.
Revealed to be almost solid muscle and sinew once shod of her varsity jacket and headphones, Macy offered her wrists, elbows, knees and ankles to Al Carpenter who found nothing untoward in his final inspection. “You’re good, Macy. You can go to the far corner and wait for the bell, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Renquist replied. “But I think I’ll stay right here, just because. Lizzie’s been talking a loooooooooot of shyt recently. I want her to know I heard it all. And I’m ready to retort.”
Carpenter didn’t much like the sound of that, but he wasn’t about to waste precious energy arguing with the Beach Blaster. If their first battle was any indication, he’d need everything he had to keep up with these two.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Liverpool, England, she stands five feet five inches tall and weighs in at fifty-four and a half kilos, she is the Boarding School Princess, ELIZABETH CROMWELL!”
That name raised a roar so disgusted you’d have been forgiven for wondering if the concession stands had perhaps run out of beer or heaven for fend, nacho cheese. Neither of these were true, though they might’ve been more tolerable than the woman in question, who swished through the curtain accompanied by the pleasantly ominous chords of The Female of the Species.
THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IV122X7ycvQ
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
Drawing to a half in the center of the spotlight, Elizabeth Cromwell looked out on the sold-out crowd with the disgust of a woman forced to breath deep from the downwind breeze off a landfill in high summer. Indeed her disgust was so great that the brunette might’ve been physically ill if not for the medicinal benefits of the stereo middle fingers she raised for the uncultured Floridian flotsam. Finally cracking a smirk when her disdain raised another heartfelt round of ‘CROMWELL SUCKS!’ chants, the Young Lioness stopped poking at the trash and turned her attention to the woman in the ring. Dark eyes flashing nastily, Elizabeth hissed, “I hope you enjoyed the parade march, slattern. The return trip will be infinitely less pleasant.”
Oh so eager to correct the nauseating mistake of Red, White & Bruised, the Boarding School Princess started down the ramp. For this year’s ‘Mania showing she wore her standard dark blue, boy-cut spandex briefs that barely reached below the slim curve of her backside. Above was a halter-style bikini top containing a twisting blend of red, white and blue with a black outline of the British flag on her right breast. Black boots and pads finish the attire.
Ignoring the crowd (save to occasionally flip them off or note some poor unfortunate’s dreadful lack of hygiene) Elizabeth made brisk time to the foot of the stairs, which she climbed without hesitation. Claiming the apron with the same sort of possessiveness Macy had shown only moments prior, Cromwell wiped the soles of her boots clean, then slipped through the strands and went straight for Macy, one former Lightweight Champion brazenly chesting up on another while the crowd urged them to bypass the last of the niceties and just start throwing hands.
Cliché though it sounds, ‘Mania was FAWN’s biggest show of the year, even multi-time champions dealt with butterflies in their stomach or took a few extra moments to soak in the energy of the crowd when they had a match on the card. And yet for all of that, Macy Renquist and Elizabeth Cromwell could’ve been facing off in a derelict gym in some forgotten industrial district of a dead-end town that hadn’t been on a map for decades for all the attention they paid their surroundings.
Separated by nothing more than a single strong inhalation (despite the best efforts of Al Carpenter) the Lightweight stars didn’t move throughout the final recitation of the rules until a sneer from Cromwell had the Englishwoman and the American grinding their foreheads like they meant to draw blood. “Your vaunted return ends tonight, you pathetic little fraud.” Cromwell promised the blonde. “If by some miracle I don’t break your ankles, I promise[/I] your spirit will be so much shattered glass to be swept into the dustbin of hist--”
“Get all that shyt-talk out of your system now, Mary Sloppins.” Macy interrupted. “You won’t be able to do much more than burble for a straw after I’ve dislocated your fragile--”
‘Jaw’ was interrupted by the CLANG of the bell, but Lizzie must’ve gleaned the Beach Blaster’s intention because she rocked Macy back on her heels with a rough two-handed shove, then followed with a bull-whip of a forehand slap that just CRAAACKED across Renquist’s mouth!
“I am the best of this or any other division!” Cromwell explained over the incredulous ‘Oooooooohhhhh’s!’ of the capacity crowd. “I will defeat you, you will proclaim my dominance for all to hear and you will never show your face in this ring ever agNNNGGGGGHHH!”
Renquist slapped her twice, one right after the other, then punctuated with a shove that put the brunette down on her butt with an audible plop! Sinking to her haunches to once again lock eyes with the furious battler, Macy adopted a suitably prim tone as she said, “Why Ms. Cromwell, I do proclaim that you have the single most slappable face of ANY tacky tramp I’ve ever--”
Lizzie scrambled to one knee and launched herself at the blonde with a low tackle that left her straddling Renquist’s waist. “You will learn to shut your mouth!” Cromwell promised even as she made Macy shriek with a white-knuckle double fistful of long blonde locks. “You will learn to respect your betters!” She drove the back of Renquist’s skull against the deck with an ugly BWUNK, halved her hair-hold and back-handed the American’s cheek for emphasis. “Most of all, you will learn to feaRRRGGOOOWWW!”
Technical skills be damned, Macy filled her fingers with Elizabeth’s hair and yanked her head back and forth almost half a dozen times before spilling her off to one side. Claiming the mount for herself immediately thereafter, Renquist rose onto her knees, then dropped her butt once, twice, three times upon the other wrestler’s modest curves! Cromwell grunted, pressed her hands to the blonde’s backside, then cursed aloud when Macy grabbed her wrists and pinned them high overhead.
“You want respect, Liz?” Macy snarled after she’d crossed the Briton’s wrists into an ‘X’ she could control with one hand. “You’re gonna have to earn it, but I (smack!) don’t (smack!) think (smack!) you (smack!) CAN!” Renquist finished that flurry of light swats with a single gaudy CRAAACK that swiveled her rival’s head to the side! It was loud and it looked painful (as the welt blossoming on Lizzie’s cheek could attest) but it certainly wasn’t enough to finish a former Lightweight Champion, not that this stopped the blonde from sidling up into a Schoolgirl Pin almost high enough to qualify as a Front Face Sit. Al dove in beside the action, checked Lizzie’s shoulders and counted out…
ONE…
TWO…
The Boarding School Princess kicked her legs up, threaded them under Macy’s biceps and popped her hips to turn the Schoolgirl into a Sunset Flip! Renquist squirmed wildly but her shoulders remained on the mat, which meant the ref would’ve been able to make another count if Cromwell hadn’t forsaken the Waistlock in favor smecking a claw to the center of the blonde’s trunks!
The pain got Macy off her back like the canvas was electrified, unfortunately the somersault that broke Lizzie’s grip left the Slappin’ Sensation on her knees at the perfect level for another low-flying tackle. “Right back where you started, tramp!” Cromwell hissed as the rivals engaged in some particularly enthusiastic hand-fighting. “Looking up at the lights is right where you beNNNGGHHH!”
Renquist tugged a wrist free of Lizzie’s grip and delivered a tart slap to the brunette’s mouth. “Wrong vantage point, cutie.” she growled. “I’ve always got the high ground looking down on your prissy little assSRRGGH!”
The Young Lioness ignored the urge of an answering slap in favor of burying a hand in the blonde’s hair. Just like that she yanked her head up while bringing her own whipping down to THWHUNK the blonde across the bridge of the nose with an eye-watering Headbutt! The concussive collision slowed Renquist enough for Cromwell to take decisive control of her wrists and perhaps more importantly, she snaked her legs around the American’s ste--
“Eeeeerrrrrgggggggghhhhh!” Macy groaned through gritted teeth when the Englishwoman wrenched her legs apart at a near perfect forty-five degree angle. The Double-Leg Grapevine was painful enough, it grew all the more troublesome once Lizzie forced Macy’s hands overhead and pinned them together with one grasping claw. Right hand free, she peppered the American’s cheeks with light slaps, then caught them between thumb and forefinger and squeeeeeeeezed her features into a Fish-Face that was as painful as it was embarrassing.
“You need to show the proper deference for my prissy little ass, lest you find it firmly planted atop your tacky, whining features!” Macy spat an unintelligible curse that devolved into more groaning when Liz stretched the Grapevine a little wider. “You’re no match for me.” Cromwell murmured as she forced brazen eye contact with her rival. “Whatever minor technical prowess you’ve been gifted will never overcome the fact that you lack a fighter’s wiRRRRHHH!”
Macy slipped a hand free of the brunette’s control and rather than deliver another slap or some face-mushing of her own, she grabbed hold just above the nape of Lizzie’s neck and yanked her head back at a sharp angle. The sudden kink in her neck made Cromwell let loose of the blonde’s mug in favor of trying to free her hair. “You want to talk about will, Liz? You better hope mine is stronger than you think because it’s the only thing stopping me from slapping the teeth out of your OOOOOWWWWWWWW BYTCH!”
Roars from the crowd accompanied Renquist’s shriek when Cromwell gave up on breaking the hair-hold in favor of reapplying her claw to the Floridian’s white trunks! “Yes, yes I am.” Lizzie agreed with her prey. “I fought my way through the best the world has to offer to hone my skills and earn a spot on this roster. What did you do, Renquist? Slap around a few drunk tourists on an empty stretch of beach?” Elizabeth paused, smiled as another callous constriction coaxed a cry from Macy. “Simply besting you in a contest of wrestling proves nothing. I intend to pick you apart in a fight. To humiliate you with the whole world watch AAAAARRRRHHHHHH!”
Still holding onto Lizzie’s hair, Macy used her grip to pull the Briton in close so she could channel Adelaide Brewster and bite down on the side of her opponent’s neck! “Hey Macy, no biting! You know better than that!” Carpenter barked to the blonde as she continued to chow down.
“Is that the best you can do?” Cromwell’s breath hitched in her throat, probably because Renquist was still chewing on it. “Let me show you how it’s UUUGGGGHHH!”
Macy got her other hand free, promptly flattened it into a paddle and delivered it to the side of her foe’s skull! Lizzie rolled away with ringing ear and gnawed neck while the blonde clambered to one knee and winced when she pressed a hand to her burning center. “Try for my trunks again, Liz.” the Slappin’ Sensation growled after she’d regained her feet. “And I’ll break every finger on that hand.”
Elizabeth, who’d been focused on the stinging crescent that marked the side of her neck, regarded the American with a baleful glare. “I’ll recall this bluster when you’re sobbing your submission.” she promised. “And then I’ll squeeze that nasty--”
Macy sprang at the brunette leading with curved claws, but rather than go for Cromwell’s hair or face she went low and swept ‘round behind her fellow former Lightweight Champion. Lizzie tried a go-behind of her own in response, but Renquist snatched hold of her waist, then snaked her left leg over and around the Briton’s left stem. “NO!” the BSP cried out as she instinctively reached for the ropes. “LET GO OF RRRRHHHHHHHHH!” She’d been reaching with her right arm when Macy dipped her torso beneath the exposed limb and wrenched it backward for safe (albeit extremely painful) keeping under her left arm. “What were you saying, Liz? You wanted to show me something?” the Beach Blaster palmed the side of Elizabeth’s face with her left hand and pushed down over and over to crank the brunette’s neck while simultaneously bending her torso over the painful plank of her left thigh. “Gonna show me how to reverse this hold? Or maybe you’ll show me how to tap like a bytch at ‘Mania!”
MACY'S ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiEEGJvortQ
“Nuuuuhhh… never give you the satisfaction, twat.” Cromwell countered. “I’d die before I’d submit to youOOOOOOHHHH OOOOOOWWWWWWW!”
Renquist resumed her previous jouncing, the blonde using every bit of her sinewy strength to break Elizabeth over her svelte thigh. “Don’t worry about that, cutie. I’m not going to kill you.” Macy offered Cromwell a smirk as the Abdominal Stretch continued doing its work. “But you might wish you were dead.”
“I wish you’d plug that open sewer you call a moutNGH!”
Renquist’s right hand came up for what started as a parade wave and ended as a snappy SLAP to the Englishwoman’s porcelain flank! “Want more, little miss priss?” Macy asked.
“More?” Lizzie sounded confused. “I wasn’t aware you’d given me anyNGH! NGH! NGH!”
Renquist delivered three slaps in rapid succession to leave a bright pink brand on her opponent’s taut midsection. “That right there? That’s what you started.” Macy added another slap for emphasis. “I can keep working on your soft little tummy or I can reach back here…” loud cheers from the FAWNatics when Renquist slap-slap-SLAPPED Lizzie’s backside, then gave it a taunting squeeze ‘n shake. “Any preference?”
Cromwell didn’t answer immediately because she wanted her voice perfectly level in the wake of those painful swats. “Your shoulder will give out long before I do, bytch. All you’re doing is ensuring I’m nice and warm when it comes time to settle down on your fa--” Lizzie’s threat ended with a clack of teeth when Macy reached around front, took the Englishwoman’s waistband between thumb and forefinger and snapped it against her abs.
“How about I go at your trunks, Liz? That’s only fair, right?”
“You must have a death-wish.” Cromwell hissed. “Thinking you can treat me like common trashHHHRRRRRRHHHH!”
Macy jabbed her index finger into the brunette’s navel and clamped down like she meant to scoop out quit by the handful! “Oh, there’s nothing common about you, cutie. I think you’re the most extraordinary trash I’ve ever encount--”
“PISS OFF!” Lizzie tried to straighten up out of the Abdominal Stretch and got bent almost double over the blonde’s thigh for her troubles.
“Tap out and maybe I will.” Macy wasn’t teasing now, her tone was grave, utterly without humor. “Tell Al and all these people that you’re just a shyt-talking poseur and maybe I’ll forget about you threatening to cripple OOOOWWWWWWWWW!”
Even when mostly immobilized the Young Lioness proved an exceptionally dangerous predator, as Renquist discovered when Cromwell reached down with her free hand and clamped down on three of the blonde’s toes like she meant to snap them off! Give Macy credit, she endured to toe twisting long enough to deliver almost half a dozen more Slaps to Elizabeth’s rapidly-reddening abs, but Cromwell proved equally tenacious with the small joint manipulation and the Beach Blaster was ultimately forced to release her hooks for some much needed separatNO! Lizzie gave up her own grip just to pound a fist down on the American’s toes, thus slowing her escape to a crawl.
In the same instant she straightened up and swept around behind the hobbling striker to apply an identical version of the hold she’d so recently escaped. Well, almost identical. Where Macy kept both feet on the mat for her Abdominal Stretch, Cromwell maintained the traditional arrangement only long enough to trap and really craaaaaaaaank back on Renquist’s right arm. Once that was set she hopped up and snaked her right leg over Macy’s hip, then crossed her ankles and made the Floridian gasp with a violent constriction!
LIZZIE'S ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9Mq8UdmN5E
Noting the clear distress on his charge’s face, Al Carpenter inched closer to the action and asked, “What do you say, Macy? Need to throw in the--”
“All I need is for you to get back and shut up.” Lizzie barked. “Even if she was ready to burble her shame, I’m hardly ready to let her--”
“Stick it up your ass.” Renquist interrupted. “I can take everything you dish out, prin--” Macy fell into a grim silence when Cromwell poured more pressure into the Scissors while also fastening a white-knuckle clamp on the Slappin’ Sensation’s right shoulder.
“What did you say to me?” Elizabeth asked, her voice charged with menace disguised as casual curiosity.
Macy grimaced, managed a step toward the ropes and suffered a long squeeze for her insolence. “You heard me.” she grunted.
“Yes I did. But I want you to say it again.”
The blonde took another step, huffed at the consequences. “I said I can take everything you can dish out, princessSSOOOOOOWWWWWW GAAAAAHHHD!”
Cromwell removed the claw from Renquist’s shoulder only to get a much louder reaction (from both her opponent and the FAWNatics) when she gouged that same talon into the Beach Blaster’s crotch! “There, there, dear. No need for lies.” Lizzie’s purred into the blonde’s ear as she continued to worry and ravage at Macy’s undercarriage. “We both know you don’t have the wherewithal to endure a fraction of the hell I can put you through, so why don’t you look into the camera and tell them you submit!”
Renquist shook her head ‘no’, lurched one step closer to the strands and almost took a knee when Elizabeth raked her from crotch to navel, not once, but more than half a dozen times! “I don’t settle for such slovenly real estate.” the Boarding School Princess continued to pour poisoned honey into Macy’s ear even as she treated the blonde’s togs to a possessive pat. “But it will no doubt make an interesting, albeit undeniably garish, conversation piece for my collect--”
Angry silence from the Briton as Renquist resumed her awkward trek to the strands. Cromwell didn’t try to stop her however, instead she continued to squeeze and wrench on the more, shall we say, professional elements of the Abdominal Stretch until the Beach Blaster reached out a hand and grabbed hold. “Break.” she demanded. “Break the hold damn you, I’m in the ropOOOOOWWWWWWWW FAAAAAAHHK!”
Lizzie paused her attack only long enough to slip her hand beneath the blonde’s waistband, thus bypassing those scant lycra defenses for a direct attack on Macy’s crotch. “Tell them.” she cooed in Renquist’s ear as the intimate grip continued to cause bulges and ripples in those defenseless togs. “Tell them you’re so much trash beneath my--”
“Break the hold, Elizabeth! Don’t make me tell you again!” Carpenter barked. “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Cromwell released with a derisive flourish, swiped her clawin’ hand across Macy’s pain-stamped face, then put both hands against her shoulders and sent her tumbling between the top and middle rope with a hard shove! The Beach Blaster was still latched onto the second strand and it was that grip that allowed her to finish on the apron rather than the flo--“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH BYTCH!”
More pained wails from the knock-kneed Floridian when Lizzie grabbed hold of her wrist, leaned down and began to chew on her fingers! Macy snarled and tried to slap the brunette’s head around sideways, alas the combination of claw-induced wooziness and the presence of the rubber-coated steel rendered her efforts quite ineffective. Al Carpenter had a much easier time of it, forcing the break from his charge with another brisk count of ‘FOUR!’
“All right, all right, she’s in the ropes, I understand!” Cromwell raised her hands and took several steps backward. “Good lord Carpenter, when did you become such a mollycoddle?”
“What? Who are you calling a mollycoddle? Ummhh, what’s a molly--”
The Young Lioness rushed the ropes, hopped up and delivered a Dropkick to Renquist’s head and left shoulder! Woefully unprepared for the cheap shot, Macy’s grip disintegrated and she tumbled to the floor in an awkward heap. Back in the ring, Lizzie grabbed hold of the top rope, mounted the second and raised her arms in a showy ‘V’. The boos started at once, not that they troubled Cromwell in the slightest. Indeed she answered with a cheery parade wave and a deep, theatrical bow. “Thank you! Thank you!” she taunted the FAWNatics. “You truly are the sorriest collection of vestigial humanity ever gathered to bask in my greatness! Please, escort this filth from my sight and then step into traffic at your earliest convenience!”
She would’ve continued in that vein if a bit of movement directly beneath her hadn’t drawn the Englishwoman’s attention. For Macy Renquist had grabbed hold of the apron in both hands and valiantly hauling herself uprig--THUMP! Cromwell hopped off her perch and came down full force, the soles of her boots just mashing the blonde’s fingers! Cackling with delight as Macy sobbed and yanked her hands away, Lizzie spun ‘round on her heel and sprinted to the far side of the ring. Heartbeats passed before she returned and then some, the vindictive brunette throwing herself into a headfirst dive over the middle rop--“NNNNNNNGGGGHHH!”
The Slappin’ Sensation proved she was a master of myriad strikes by lunging forward to THWHACK a Forearm Smash into the side of Lizzie’s face! Her dreams of flight dashed, Cromwell wound up hanging limp across the second strand, her face almost level with the apron. As for Macy, she took several deep breaths, then raked a hand through her hair as she mulled the next move. As of yet undecided, she pointed her right shoulder at the Briton, drew that arm back across her torso and casually CRAAACKED a Slap between Cromwell’s shoulders!
“TRAMP!” Lizzie wailed over the ‘WOO!’ of the crowd. “Keep your tacky hands off of RGH! RGH! RGH!”
Macy tattooed Liz’s back with half a dozen more slaps before she snatched a double handful of hair. Yanking her foe’s head up as she leaned in close, the blonde whispered, “So you want to catfight, huh? I didn’t think you had the guts to lose like that on a stage this big.”
“Yuuuhhh… you don’t know what it means to lose, twat.” Lizzie groaned, her words slightly slurred after the brutal head shot. “Not to me. Not when it leaves a marHRRGHAAAAARRRRRRHHHHH FAAAAAAAAAHK!”
Macy jerked the brunette’s noggin a little higher only to slam it against the rough edge of the apron! Of course one measly impact didn’t nearly make up for all the trunk torture she’d endured earlier in the match, so Renquist doubled down on her grip and began to draaaaaag Cromwell’s forehead back and forth along a six inch length of canvas. Elizabeth shrieked and fought like a wildcat, alas her positioning was awful and she couldn’t do much more than bat and scrabble at the Floridian’s forearms.
Such aggressive treatment administered outside the squared circle was sort of a gray area in the world of FAWN officiating, yet Al Carpenter kept things as consistent as he could by rattling off an internal ‘FIVE’ count before he cleared his throat and said, “That’s enough Macy. Get her off the ropes. And back in the ring. Preferably in that ord--well, one of two is ok, I guess.”
Trading her hold on the Englishwoman’s hair for a tawdry grip on her waistband, Renquist punished Lizzie with a scathing wedgie forceful enough to transfer her from the ropes to the floor. The Young Lioness landed with a forceful ‘SPLAT!’ that was immediately overwhelmed by her breathless groan and appreciative cheers from the crowd. Finally allowing herself a moment of respite, Macy placed her hands on her hips and took several deep breaths while Cromwell tried and failed to the same. Without appearing to think about it, she leaned down and delivered two quick Slaps, one to each breast.
“Did you think getting dropped on your head at Red, White & Bruised was embarrassing, Liz?” Renquist chided when the other Lightweight groaned and draped an arm across her chest. “Cutie, that was Easy Mode. We switched to Hard Mode the instant you started in on my trunks. And that means I don’t feel bad about this!”
Macy brushed that protecting limb aside, fashioned her hands into spades and grabbed hold of her rival’s modest curves! “BYTCH!” Lizzie grabbed hold of the blonde’s wrists, then sat up and scrambled to one knee, all while fighting to break Renquist’s grip. “GET YOUR FILTHY BEACH RAT PAWS OFF OF UUUUNNNNNGGGGHHH!”
The Slappin’ Sensation ‘helped’ Cromwell to boot-leather only to charge / ram her spine-first into the steel guardrail! Still in firm possession of her foe’s girls in the wake of that jarring impact, Macy kneaded and squeezed for several seconds before slotting a thigh between Lizzie’s legs for a short, but painful Kneelift to the crotch.
“Huuuuhhhh…how dare you.” the Boarding School Princess sounded nothing like herself as she tried to maintain verticality by keeping one arm (her right) stubbornly draped over the guardrail. “You will rue the day you thought to HHMMMMPPHHH!”
“Would you shut up?” Renquist abandoned one of her claws to cup that hand over her rival’s mouth. “I’m trying to listen to the count!” A short stretch of (relative) silence, then a clear ‘EIGHT!’ from Carpenter. “PLENTY of time!” Macy noted with exaggerated relief. Turning her attention to a woman in the front row, she went on. “Excuse me, sorry to trouble you, but this bytch is in way over her head. Can she borrow your chair to sit down for a while?”
The fan grinned, sprang out of her seat and offered it to Renquist, who shook her head ‘no’ and motioned to a spot beside her. “Just set it down there, Lizzie needs to take a load off, fast.” She did as bade and Macy sat Elizabeth down just as she’d promised. “Come on, Liz. Defend yourself.” the Beach Blaster demanded in the midst of another white-knuckle squeeze.
“Tacky slattern.” Lizzie grabbed hold of the American’s wrists, tried to pull them loose. “You have no idea what you’ve--” surprise from Cromwell and those assembled when Macy relinquished the catty clamp seemingly without provocation. Glancing up even as she threw a hand across her chest, the question in Lizzie’s eyes got blasted into the third row when the former Lightweight Champion reared back and CRAAACKED her across the face courtesy of the night’s stiffest Bytch Slap!
The Young Lioness rocked back in the chair, its front legs actually leaving the floor for a moment before Renquist, put a hand on Cromwell’s knee and pushed down. “Buuuhhh… buuuhhhh… bytch.” Lizzie mumbled louder than she’d intended, possibly in an effort to be heard over the ringing in her ears. “Such disrespect will not be tolerat--”
Macy, who’d shifted her attention back to the FAWNatics after pinking Elizabeth’s cheek, turned to the seated battler and upended a good four-fifths of one of those ridiculously expensive beers onto the brunette’s head! The suds did what the slap could not, the shock of it causing Lizzie to throw herself backward with such force that she toppled the chair and somersaulted to an incredulous, sputtering stop on all fours.
“Damn,” Renquist told the front rowers after she’d drained the remaining beer. “That tastes as good as it felt. Well… almost.”
“YOU VILE COW!” Lizzie shrieked those three words from her knees even as she swept beer-soaked hair out of her face. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, TREATING ME LIKE SOME--”
Volcanic indignation blossomed to truly righteous fury once Renquist tossed the empty cup at her penitent adversary. Cromwell swatted it out of the air, got to her feet and raced straight for the waiting blonde. Macy didn’t shy away, indeed she took a half step forward and bent over double to drive her right shoulder into the Englishwoman’s midsection. Bracing her hands against Elizabeth’s thighs at the moment of contact, the Beach Blaster straightened up to hurl the Boarding School Princess up, over and of course, down, Cromwell landing with a breathtaking THAWHUMP that earned groans of sympathetic anguish from even Lizzie’s staunchest detractors.
Delighted by the humbling drubbing she’d inflicted on the arrogant brat, Macy went to clap some invisible dust off her hands only to pause when she heard Carpenter’s count hit “EIGHTEEN!” Under the bottom rope in an instant, she raised a warding hand and said, “I know, I left the garbage out. Lemme go get it, I’ll be right back.”
The official didn’t bother to reply, he merely held his tongue and hoped the blonde would do as she’d indicated. In this he was not disappointed, as Renquist hauled Cromwell to verticality with a handful of trunks and tresses and slung her back into the squared circle. Macy slid in afterward, buried both hands in Lizzie’s lager-soaked locks and got to her feet while forcing the Briton to do the same. A single Kneelift to the belly kept Liz from arguing with the hair-hold, or would have if Renquist decided to maintain it. Instead she let go and whipped ‘round on Cromwell’s six so she could wrench the brunette’s arms behind her back in a Double Chickenwing.
“How am I treating you, Liz?” Macy whispered in Elizabeth’s ear as she tightened the simple grip. “Like trash? Or something even worse?”
“Truuuu…trash is too good for the likes of you, harNNNGHH!”
The Slappin’ Sensation sank into a deep crouch and peeled off a pristine bridge that tore Cromwell off her feet and PLANTED her on the back of her head and shoulders. Shoulders down, ass-up in the wake of the Tiger Suplex, Elizabeth remained the picture of hapless defeat through Carpenter’s count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
BRIDGING TIGER SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlY1JtKteKI
Disappointment for Macy and the rest of the FAWNatics when Cromwell twisted over onto her belly with perhaps half a second to spare. Knelt beside the vulnerable Briton, Renquist put her hands on her knees and huffed, “You still want to fight, Liz? That’s good, it sure felt like you were going to quit out there on the floor.”
“I… I don’t have it in me to quit, slattern.” Elizabeth groaned as she tried to pull herself together. “That is in fact the only arena where you will prove my superioRRRHHHHH!”
Macy smote her brunette with a windmilling Slap between the shoulders followed by another that scalded the slim curve of Lizzie’s glutes! “You’re entitled to your opinion, cutie.” Renquist’s hands were back in Cromwell’s hair, the blonde tugging her rival’s head from side to side while simultaneously scraping her off the mat. “But I’d like to check in with reality for a slightly less biased take, ok?”
The unprintable string of vile invective pouring forth from the Boarding School Princess suggested that she didn’t give a damn about Macy’s plans, unfortunately she was too woozy to do more than flap and paw at her attacker’s wrists. Macy made no effort to swat the Englishwoman’s defenses down because it meant she didn’t have to reach as far when she abruptly laid claim to Lizzie’s right wrist and pulled that arm snug under her chin, Cut-Throat style. Eyes going wide as she felt Renquist’s free (right) hand pressed to her shoulder, Cromwell lunged toward the ropes but only made it a few steps before the Beach Blaster yanked her back and around in a dizzying half circle that was just a precursor to the Bytch Mak--“OOOOOOWWWWWW!”
Lizzie couldn’t fight her way to the ropes, yet the whiplash repositioning meant both wrestlers were off balance and Cromwell made the most of it by stamping, then grrrriiinding her right heel down on the blonde’s right foot! Abandoning her hooks to tend to her mashed toes, Renquist hobble-hopped away from Cromwell only to wind up flat on her back when the Briton caught hold of her plant foot and yanked it out from underneath!
Wounded toes be damned, Macy drew her other leg in close and lashed out just as quickly, the vulnerable blonde landing a couple strong shots to her opponent’s left thigh. Lizzie hissed in pain, yet wouldn’t relinquish her grip. In fact she grabbed hold of Macy’s toes and twisted like she wanted to snap them off all at once! “SUBMIT!” Cromwell barked as she continued the small-joint manipulation. “Submit right now, you bytch!”
“F*CK YOU!” Renquist countered with more kicks aimed at the front and side of the brunette’s left thigh. “LEGGO OF MY GODDAMNED FOO--AAAAAAAWWWW GAAAAAAAAAAAHD!” Resounding boos from the ‘Mania crowd when Elizabeth leaned down and began to bite her prey’s toes! An agonizing attack for sure, though hardly a sustainable one as Al Carpenter was quick to note.
“Hey! No biting Lizzie! C’mon, knock that off!” The Young Lioness continued to gnash and gnaw, forcing the ref to count off, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Cromwell spat out her treat and forced that leg as far up and back as human anatomy would allow. This adjustment would’ve transformed Elizabeth’s attack into a full blown Wishbone if she’d bothered to pin Macy’s other foot to the mat. But such technical details were currently beyond Lizzie, who chose to further her advantage by driving the point of her boot into the fork of Renquist’s crotch! The resultant shudder racked Macy from head to toe, thus ensuring she was in no condition to prevent Cromwell from tucking her injured foot beneath the Englishwoman’s armpit.
Finally flashing a smile after she’d cupped her other hand over the Floridian’s knee, Lizzie set her feet and promised, “Now, you disgusting little harlot, I’m going to finish what Alves started so amateurishly.” With that she flipped Macy onto her stomach, stepped over and sat down deep, the Boarding School Princess claiming a heavy, domineering perch atop the small of her prey’s back.
HALF BOSTON CRAB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgoK3cNgHDI
Hands buried in her own hair in a desperate attempt to spread out the pain caused by the Single Leg Crab, Renquist gamely shook her head ‘no’ when Carpenter dropped to one knee beside the action. “How are you doing, Macy? Need me to call for the bell?”
“NO!” Renquist answered after she’d traded in her hair-hold for a tenacious grip on the canvas. “Just get out of the way, Al. I’ve got some ropes to RRRRGGHHHH!”
Elizabeth eased up a little so she could slide backward and settle into a new seat squarely between the Floridian’s shoulders. “You’re going nowhere, slattern!” the Young Lioness promised as she put more on more pressure on her opponent’s wrenched knee. “And don’t even think about simply tapping the mat. I want to hear you begging for merc--”
Jaw clenched to prevent another loud scream, Macy puuuuuusssshed up in spite of the brunette’s encroaching weight and began dragging the both of ‘em toward the sanctuary of the strands.
“You insolent little toe rag, do you think I’d waste precious oxygen speaking to you if I wasn’t deadly serious?” Cromwell barked at the struggling Beach Blaster.
“Thuuuuhhhh… that’s exactly what I think.” Macy growled. “I’ve never met a bytch more in love with the sound of her own voice.”
Uncharacteristic silence from Elizabeth, so the blonde redoubled her escape efforts. She’d drawn to within a foot of the bottom rope when Lizzie shifted Macy’s trapped leg from under one arm to between her thighs an instant before she laid out in a heavy sprawl on the blonde’s back. Just like that she locked both hands against Renquist’s jaw and CRANKED up on the STF!
STF:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cgoseVfUCrI
“You’ll grow to love the sound of my voice, beach rat.” Cromwell cooed to her struggling victim. “Or perhaps you’ll hate it so much a single word will make you burst into tears. Are you going to cry, huh? Let’s hear you bawl!” The Boarding School Princess yoked Macy’s head up and down close to a dozen times and while she did in fact scream quite loudly, she refused to surrender. Carpenter also refrained from asking again, though he kept a close eye on the trapped wrestler’s slow progress. “Tap out.” Lizzie had shifted from occasional barbs to a steady stream of trash talk murmured into Macy’s ear. “Admit you’re helpless and I’ll let you trudge up the ramp with your head down. Deny me and you’ll leave on a stretcher wearing nothing but the loser’s tee-shirt. If you’re lucky.”
Renquist was all of four inches from the strands now, but her right arm was already stretched out full length and it was wavering dangerously. “Yes, that’s right.” Lizzie was all smiles as she planted a kiss on Macy’s feverish cheek. “Resign yourself to--”
The Slappin’ Sensation gouged her left elbow into the deck and used it slide forward just enough to grab the bottom rope. “Muuuhhh… make the most of that four count, you prissy bytch.” Renquist groaned. “I’ll be making you quit soon enouNGH! NGH! NGH! HHHRRRRGGHHH!”
An infuriated Lizzie abandoned the Chinlock to bury her hands in the blonde’s hair and then SLAMMED her face against the mat half a dozen times before scraping those delicate features back and forth until Al reached an emphatic ‘FOUR!’ Not about to tolerate any more of the ref’s nattering, Elizabeth released the STF and slid out onto the floor.
“Still grasping at the ropes, are we?” Cromwell swatted the blonde’s right hand, which was indeed clamped around the bottom strand. “I’m afraid that’s not nearly enough to compete with someone of my calibRRHHHH!”
Macy let go and flicked that hand under the rope to CRAAACK Liz across the cheek! “Yeah,” Renquist taunted over the cheers of the crowd, “you DO slap like someone of fine OOOOOOOHHHHHH FAAAAAAAAAAAHK!”
Elizabeth snatched the blonde’s right wrist in one hand, then wrenched her index and middle fingers apart and nocked them against the bottom rope. After that she grabbed hold of those vulnerable digits and squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezed as hard as she could! “SLAP ME AGAIN!” Cromwell screamed at the squalling American. “DO IT AND I’LL SNAP YOUR FINGERS ONE BY ONE!”
“CRAZY BYTCH!” Macy thrashed like a downed power-line as she fought to free her trapped hand. “F*CKING LET GO OF MEEE-AAAARRRRGGHHH!”
Elizabeth did as ordered, unfortunately it was only to palm the blonde’s noggin and dig her thumbs into Renquist’s eyes! “For Chrissakes, Liz, get off her eyes!” Al shouted from somewhere high overhead.
The Boarding School Princess bared her teeth, dug her claws a little deeper and shook Macy’s head like a terrier shakes a rat. “THAT’S the kind of sniveling I want!” she snarled to the writhing blonde. “Throw in a little pleading and you’ll be halfway ther--”
“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!” Lizzie released the illegal grip with obvious disgust while Renquist raised both hands to protect her stinging--NO! Shouts of outrage from the FAWNatics and a wail of distress from the Beach Blaster when Cromwell laid claim to her right wrist and drew that arm out under the bottom rope. Left foot braced against the apron for additional leverage, Elizabeth pushed off to yank the side of Macy’s neck into the rubber-coated steel!
“GODDAMN YOU!” Renquist grabbed the rope with her free hand and tried to force it up over her head but she only succeeded in scraping her ear and cheek something fierce. GET OFFA ME, I’M IN THE ROPESSSAAAAAHHHHH GAAAAWW F*CKING STOP BITING!”
Having resumed her chewing mere heartbeats prior, Lizzie kept at her malicious mastication with special attention paid to the blonde’s index and middle fingers. She would’ve kept at it for quite a bit longer if not for another abrupt count from Al Carpenter.
“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped at him. “I am on the floor, a position that ensures me a--”
“Let go of her wrist and you can have a full twenty seconds.” Carpenter interrupted.
“I most certainly will not. This belongs to me now. Isn’t that right, Macy?” She punctuated the claim by pulling the American’s fingers apart in an involuntary Vulcan peace sign.
The Slappin’ Sensation grit her teeth and moaned while continuing to paw and push at the rubber-coated steel. “Get her off, Al.” she hissed. “Get her off before she--”
Cromwell removed her foot from the apron which allowed Macy to draw back from the ropes even though her wrist was still in the Briton’s possession. This thought was still fresh on her mind when Elizabeth stretched that injured hand out flat, then planted a knee atop it so she could boost herself onto the apron! This brought on a fresh round of flailing, Macy burying her face in the crook of her left elbow so she could muffle another anguished scream.
“One more four count, Elizabeth.” Al’s tone was grave. “You don’t let go, I call for the bell, then file paperwork to have you suspended.”
The Young Lioness glared up at him, clearly unwilling to give up her prize even now. “You don’t have the spine, Carp--”
“One. Two. Three. Four.”
Elizabeth stood up and Macy rolled away at once, the blonde sobbing with relief as she curled up around her mangled hand. Finally turning her attention to the cacophony of jeers accosting her from all sides, Cromwell took an insufferably long time to smooth her hair down and ‘flick’ her bottoms back into place. Once she felt presentable (or at least as presentable as the Orlando trash deserved), the brunette slipped through the strands and strutted toward the flattened blonde.
“Slap me now.” she bent down and SMACKED Macy’s ass. “Slap me now, I said.” Renquist cursed, clambered to all fours (three of four, actually), absorbing several more slaps to the back of the head and shoulders in the process. “Come now slattern, this is the biggest show of the year! The whole world is watching! Surely you won’t allow me to slap you at will, like you were nothing more than COMMON (SLAP!) FLORIDA (SLAP!) BEACH (SLAP!) TRANNGGGHH!”
Macy balled her left hand into a fist and buried it in the brunette’s navel! Lizzie grunted, reached for the penitent wrestler’s hair and soaked up three more punches to the belly. The last shot doubled Cromwell over, though she didn’t stay there long because the Beach Blaster reared back and CRAAACKED her across the mouth with a resounding Bytch Slap!
Elizabeth’s head snapped back and the rest of her followed, the staggering separation allowing Macy enough time to regain her feet. “You think I need both hands to put you down?” the blonde huffed as she walked down the Young Lioness. “Just a glimpse of your prissy face is motivation enough to slap it into the first--”
Cromwell shrieked like a banshee and lunged at Renquist, her left hand sweeping a wide arc toward Macy’s fa-- “AAAHHHH F*CK YOOOOOUUUUUUU!”
The Slappin’ Sensation raised her right arm to deflect the blow only to scream bloody murder when Lizzie grabbed her fingers and bent them back at an ungodly angle! Renquist’s legs shivered like insane tuning forks, a condition that prompted Cromwell to stuff a huge Kneelift into the pit of her rival’s stomach. Macy crumpled to her knees, tried to rise and was promptly hobbled by another merciless squeeze of her hurtin’ hand. Yet a third constriction earned a keening ‘don’t hurt me!’ sob from Renquist, so Lizzie let go, buried a talon in the blonde’s hair and jerked her head back to force blazing eye contact.
“The lesson is over and you have been found sorely lacking. All that remains is dismissal. In in your case, expulsion.”
“Guuuhhh… go to hell, LizZZNNNGGHH!”
The Boarding School Princess slapped her rival across the face, then slapped on a Front Facelock and hauled Macy upright. Immediately thereafter she reached her right arm across the Floridian’s waist, palmed her right hip and deftly scooped Renquist onto her right shoulder. Macy was still settling into her new perch when Cromwell kicked both legs forward and dropped to her butt to THAWHONK the crown of Renquist’s skull into the deck with revolting force! Dismissed from contention and consciousness by the Prep School Expulsion, a starfished Macy offered nothing save a soft groan when Lizzie climbed into a seat that brought the full weight of her undercarriage to bear on Renquist’s nose and mouth. Flashing a demure smile that didn’t come anywhere near her eyes, Elizabeth pressed her thighs together and laid her hands on her thighs while Al and the FAWNatics tolled off a dispirited…
PREP SCHOOL EXPULSION:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_iI6MuTBkg
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Expression shifting from demure to diabolical at the sound of the bell, the Young Lioness made a show of bouncing in place as the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… ELIZABETH CROMWELL!”
The jeers were already loud, they rose to glass-threatening levels when Lizzie pushed up and swiveled around into a sort of Sidesaddle Face Sit that allowed her to look into the hard cam while keeping Macy buried in buttock.
“You have no idea how tempting it is to stomp your hands into oblivion.” Cromwell addressed the camera, though her words were clearly for the blonde snuffling against her haunches. “Doing so would rid me of your odious presence once and for all, however it would also leave our series tied at one. No matter that it was a fluke, I’ll be damned if I let ANY record proclaim you as my equal. So, dear Macy. I’ll leave you your hands… and this…” Lizzie bit her bottom lip as she bore down and ground taut little figure eights on Renquist’s slumbering mug.
“In return for my generosity, I’ll take this.” she grabbed Macy’s top between the cups and snatched it away with a single violent yank.
On her feet shortly thereafter, the Young Lioness tucked the shorn top in against her right hip and planted that foot atop Renquist’s chest for one more Gladiatrix-worthy shot before the feed cut to a promo for the Tag Team Title match.
MESS AROUND:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJlFKmfZGL4
MACY RENQUIST:
A twangy guitar riff floated through the speakers, their massive amplification the only thing preventing the tune from being overwhelmed by the thousand-fold ’UH-OH’s! bellowed by the FAWNatics as the Beach Blaster made her arrival at the biggest show of the year. Hands stuffed into the pockets of her pink & white varsity jacket, the svelte blonde striker reached up and pulled away one of her oversized headphones, then nodded and set it back into place. “Damn, you guys are LOUD. Means I’m gonna have to slap Liz extra hard.” she waited a beat before winking to the camera. “Not that I’m complaining.”
On that note Macy started down the aisle, the former Lightweight Champion shooting back and forth to share the tiniest bit of her percussive palms with all those outstretched to greet her. A quick circuit around the squared circle let her do the same for everyone at ringside, then it was onto the apron and through the ropes in the blink of an eye. Claiming the center like her name was written there, Renquist’s million watt smile grew that much wider once she doffed her jacket to reveal a strappy white two piece with pink trim and matching accents. Her knee and elbow pads were an identical black, while the ankle wraps she wore in place of boots were matte pink, an homage to her Astonishing trainer.
Revealed to be almost solid muscle and sinew once shod of her varsity jacket and headphones, Macy offered her wrists, elbows, knees and ankles to Al Carpenter who found nothing untoward in his final inspection. “You’re good, Macy. You can go to the far corner and wait for the bell, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Renquist replied. “But I think I’ll stay right here, just because. Lizzie’s been talking a loooooooooot of shyt recently. I want her to know I heard it all. And I’m ready to retort.”
Carpenter didn’t much like the sound of that, but he wasn’t about to waste precious energy arguing with the Beach Blaster. If their first battle was any indication, he’d need everything he had to keep up with these two.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Liverpool, England, she stands five feet five inches tall and weighs in at fifty-four and a half kilos, she is the Boarding School Princess, ELIZABETH CROMWELL!”
That name raised a roar so disgusted you’d have been forgiven for wondering if the concession stands had perhaps run out of beer or heaven for fend, nacho cheese. Neither of these were true, though they might’ve been more tolerable than the woman in question, who swished through the curtain accompanied by the pleasantly ominous chords of The Female of the Species.
THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IV122X7ycvQ
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
Drawing to a half in the center of the spotlight, Elizabeth Cromwell looked out on the sold-out crowd with the disgust of a woman forced to breath deep from the downwind breeze off a landfill in high summer. Indeed her disgust was so great that the brunette might’ve been physically ill if not for the medicinal benefits of the stereo middle fingers she raised for the uncultured Floridian flotsam. Finally cracking a smirk when her disdain raised another heartfelt round of ‘CROMWELL SUCKS!’ chants, the Young Lioness stopped poking at the trash and turned her attention to the woman in the ring. Dark eyes flashing nastily, Elizabeth hissed, “I hope you enjoyed the parade march, slattern. The return trip will be infinitely less pleasant.”
Oh so eager to correct the nauseating mistake of Red, White & Bruised, the Boarding School Princess started down the ramp. For this year’s ‘Mania showing she wore her standard dark blue, boy-cut spandex briefs that barely reached below the slim curve of her backside. Above was a halter-style bikini top containing a twisting blend of red, white and blue with a black outline of the British flag on her right breast. Black boots and pads finish the attire.
Ignoring the crowd (save to occasionally flip them off or note some poor unfortunate’s dreadful lack of hygiene) Elizabeth made brisk time to the foot of the stairs, which she climbed without hesitation. Claiming the apron with the same sort of possessiveness Macy had shown only moments prior, Cromwell wiped the soles of her boots clean, then slipped through the strands and went straight for Macy, one former Lightweight Champion brazenly chesting up on another while the crowd urged them to bypass the last of the niceties and just start throwing hands.
Cliché though it sounds, ‘Mania was FAWN’s biggest show of the year, even multi-time champions dealt with butterflies in their stomach or took a few extra moments to soak in the energy of the crowd when they had a match on the card. And yet for all of that, Macy Renquist and Elizabeth Cromwell could’ve been facing off in a derelict gym in some forgotten industrial district of a dead-end town that hadn’t been on a map for decades for all the attention they paid their surroundings.
Separated by nothing more than a single strong inhalation (despite the best efforts of Al Carpenter) the Lightweight stars didn’t move throughout the final recitation of the rules until a sneer from Cromwell had the Englishwoman and the American grinding their foreheads like they meant to draw blood. “Your vaunted return ends tonight, you pathetic little fraud.” Cromwell promised the blonde. “If by some miracle I don’t break your ankles, I promise[/I] your spirit will be so much shattered glass to be swept into the dustbin of hist--”
“Get all that shyt-talk out of your system now, Mary Sloppins.” Macy interrupted. “You won’t be able to do much more than burble for a straw after I’ve dislocated your fragile--”
‘Jaw’ was interrupted by the CLANG of the bell, but Lizzie must’ve gleaned the Beach Blaster’s intention because she rocked Macy back on her heels with a rough two-handed shove, then followed with a bull-whip of a forehand slap that just CRAAACKED across Renquist’s mouth!
“I am the best of this or any other division!” Cromwell explained over the incredulous ‘Oooooooohhhhh’s!’ of the capacity crowd. “I will defeat you, you will proclaim my dominance for all to hear and you will never show your face in this ring ever agNNNGGGGGHHH!”
Renquist slapped her twice, one right after the other, then punctuated with a shove that put the brunette down on her butt with an audible plop! Sinking to her haunches to once again lock eyes with the furious battler, Macy adopted a suitably prim tone as she said, “Why Ms. Cromwell, I do proclaim that you have the single most slappable face of ANY tacky tramp I’ve ever--”
Lizzie scrambled to one knee and launched herself at the blonde with a low tackle that left her straddling Renquist’s waist. “You will learn to shut your mouth!” Cromwell promised even as she made Macy shriek with a white-knuckle double fistful of long blonde locks. “You will learn to respect your betters!” She drove the back of Renquist’s skull against the deck with an ugly BWUNK, halved her hair-hold and back-handed the American’s cheek for emphasis. “Most of all, you will learn to feaRRRGGOOOWWW!”
Technical skills be damned, Macy filled her fingers with Elizabeth’s hair and yanked her head back and forth almost half a dozen times before spilling her off to one side. Claiming the mount for herself immediately thereafter, Renquist rose onto her knees, then dropped her butt once, twice, three times upon the other wrestler’s modest curves! Cromwell grunted, pressed her hands to the blonde’s backside, then cursed aloud when Macy grabbed her wrists and pinned them high overhead.
“You want respect, Liz?” Macy snarled after she’d crossed the Briton’s wrists into an ‘X’ she could control with one hand. “You’re gonna have to earn it, but I (smack!) don’t (smack!) think (smack!) you (smack!) CAN!” Renquist finished that flurry of light swats with a single gaudy CRAAACK that swiveled her rival’s head to the side! It was loud and it looked painful (as the welt blossoming on Lizzie’s cheek could attest) but it certainly wasn’t enough to finish a former Lightweight Champion, not that this stopped the blonde from sidling up into a Schoolgirl Pin almost high enough to qualify as a Front Face Sit. Al dove in beside the action, checked Lizzie’s shoulders and counted out…
ONE…
TWO…
The Boarding School Princess kicked her legs up, threaded them under Macy’s biceps and popped her hips to turn the Schoolgirl into a Sunset Flip! Renquist squirmed wildly but her shoulders remained on the mat, which meant the ref would’ve been able to make another count if Cromwell hadn’t forsaken the Waistlock in favor smecking a claw to the center of the blonde’s trunks!
The pain got Macy off her back like the canvas was electrified, unfortunately the somersault that broke Lizzie’s grip left the Slappin’ Sensation on her knees at the perfect level for another low-flying tackle. “Right back where you started, tramp!” Cromwell hissed as the rivals engaged in some particularly enthusiastic hand-fighting. “Looking up at the lights is right where you beNNNGGHHH!”
Renquist tugged a wrist free of Lizzie’s grip and delivered a tart slap to the brunette’s mouth. “Wrong vantage point, cutie.” she growled. “I’ve always got the high ground looking down on your prissy little assSRRGGH!”
The Young Lioness ignored the urge of an answering slap in favor of burying a hand in the blonde’s hair. Just like that she yanked her head up while bringing her own whipping down to THWHUNK the blonde across the bridge of the nose with an eye-watering Headbutt! The concussive collision slowed Renquist enough for Cromwell to take decisive control of her wrists and perhaps more importantly, she snaked her legs around the American’s ste--
“Eeeeerrrrrgggggggghhhhh!” Macy groaned through gritted teeth when the Englishwoman wrenched her legs apart at a near perfect forty-five degree angle. The Double-Leg Grapevine was painful enough, it grew all the more troublesome once Lizzie forced Macy’s hands overhead and pinned them together with one grasping claw. Right hand free, she peppered the American’s cheeks with light slaps, then caught them between thumb and forefinger and squeeeeeeeezed her features into a Fish-Face that was as painful as it was embarrassing.
“You need to show the proper deference for my prissy little ass, lest you find it firmly planted atop your tacky, whining features!” Macy spat an unintelligible curse that devolved into more groaning when Liz stretched the Grapevine a little wider. “You’re no match for me.” Cromwell murmured as she forced brazen eye contact with her rival. “Whatever minor technical prowess you’ve been gifted will never overcome the fact that you lack a fighter’s wiRRRRHHH!”
Macy slipped a hand free of the brunette’s control and rather than deliver another slap or some face-mushing of her own, she grabbed hold just above the nape of Lizzie’s neck and yanked her head back at a sharp angle. The sudden kink in her neck made Cromwell let loose of the blonde’s mug in favor of trying to free her hair. “You want to talk about will, Liz? You better hope mine is stronger than you think because it’s the only thing stopping me from slapping the teeth out of your OOOOOWWWWWWWW BYTCH!”
Roars from the crowd accompanied Renquist’s shriek when Cromwell gave up on breaking the hair-hold in favor of reapplying her claw to the Floridian’s white trunks! “Yes, yes I am.” Lizzie agreed with her prey. “I fought my way through the best the world has to offer to hone my skills and earn a spot on this roster. What did you do, Renquist? Slap around a few drunk tourists on an empty stretch of beach?” Elizabeth paused, smiled as another callous constriction coaxed a cry from Macy. “Simply besting you in a contest of wrestling proves nothing. I intend to pick you apart in a fight. To humiliate you with the whole world watch AAAAARRRRHHHHHH!”
Still holding onto Lizzie’s hair, Macy used her grip to pull the Briton in close so she could channel Adelaide Brewster and bite down on the side of her opponent’s neck! “Hey Macy, no biting! You know better than that!” Carpenter barked to the blonde as she continued to chow down.
“Is that the best you can do?” Cromwell’s breath hitched in her throat, probably because Renquist was still chewing on it. “Let me show you how it’s UUUGGGGHHH!”
Macy got her other hand free, promptly flattened it into a paddle and delivered it to the side of her foe’s skull! Lizzie rolled away with ringing ear and gnawed neck while the blonde clambered to one knee and winced when she pressed a hand to her burning center. “Try for my trunks again, Liz.” the Slappin’ Sensation growled after she’d regained her feet. “And I’ll break every finger on that hand.”
Elizabeth, who’d been focused on the stinging crescent that marked the side of her neck, regarded the American with a baleful glare. “I’ll recall this bluster when you’re sobbing your submission.” she promised. “And then I’ll squeeze that nasty--”
Macy sprang at the brunette leading with curved claws, but rather than go for Cromwell’s hair or face she went low and swept ‘round behind her fellow former Lightweight Champion. Lizzie tried a go-behind of her own in response, but Renquist snatched hold of her waist, then snaked her left leg over and around the Briton’s left stem. “NO!” the BSP cried out as she instinctively reached for the ropes. “LET GO OF RRRRHHHHHHHHH!” She’d been reaching with her right arm when Macy dipped her torso beneath the exposed limb and wrenched it backward for safe (albeit extremely painful) keeping under her left arm. “What were you saying, Liz? You wanted to show me something?” the Beach Blaster palmed the side of Elizabeth’s face with her left hand and pushed down over and over to crank the brunette’s neck while simultaneously bending her torso over the painful plank of her left thigh. “Gonna show me how to reverse this hold? Or maybe you’ll show me how to tap like a bytch at ‘Mania!”
MACY'S ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiEEGJvortQ
“Nuuuuhhh… never give you the satisfaction, twat.” Cromwell countered. “I’d die before I’d submit to youOOOOOOHHHH OOOOOOWWWWWWW!”
Renquist resumed her previous jouncing, the blonde using every bit of her sinewy strength to break Elizabeth over her svelte thigh. “Don’t worry about that, cutie. I’m not going to kill you.” Macy offered Cromwell a smirk as the Abdominal Stretch continued doing its work. “But you might wish you were dead.”
“I wish you’d plug that open sewer you call a moutNGH!”
Renquist’s right hand came up for what started as a parade wave and ended as a snappy SLAP to the Englishwoman’s porcelain flank! “Want more, little miss priss?” Macy asked.
“More?” Lizzie sounded confused. “I wasn’t aware you’d given me anyNGH! NGH! NGH!”
Renquist delivered three slaps in rapid succession to leave a bright pink brand on her opponent’s taut midsection. “That right there? That’s what you started.” Macy added another slap for emphasis. “I can keep working on your soft little tummy or I can reach back here…” loud cheers from the FAWNatics when Renquist slap-slap-SLAPPED Lizzie’s backside, then gave it a taunting squeeze ‘n shake. “Any preference?”
Cromwell didn’t answer immediately because she wanted her voice perfectly level in the wake of those painful swats. “Your shoulder will give out long before I do, bytch. All you’re doing is ensuring I’m nice and warm when it comes time to settle down on your fa--” Lizzie’s threat ended with a clack of teeth when Macy reached around front, took the Englishwoman’s waistband between thumb and forefinger and snapped it against her abs.
“How about I go at your trunks, Liz? That’s only fair, right?”
“You must have a death-wish.” Cromwell hissed. “Thinking you can treat me like common trashHHHRRRRRRHHHH!”
Macy jabbed her index finger into the brunette’s navel and clamped down like she meant to scoop out quit by the handful! “Oh, there’s nothing common about you, cutie. I think you’re the most extraordinary trash I’ve ever encount--”
“PISS OFF!” Lizzie tried to straighten up out of the Abdominal Stretch and got bent almost double over the blonde’s thigh for her troubles.
“Tap out and maybe I will.” Macy wasn’t teasing now, her tone was grave, utterly without humor. “Tell Al and all these people that you’re just a shyt-talking poseur and maybe I’ll forget about you threatening to cripple OOOOWWWWWWWWW!”
Even when mostly immobilized the Young Lioness proved an exceptionally dangerous predator, as Renquist discovered when Cromwell reached down with her free hand and clamped down on three of the blonde’s toes like she meant to snap them off! Give Macy credit, she endured to toe twisting long enough to deliver almost half a dozen more Slaps to Elizabeth’s rapidly-reddening abs, but Cromwell proved equally tenacious with the small joint manipulation and the Beach Blaster was ultimately forced to release her hooks for some much needed separatNO! Lizzie gave up her own grip just to pound a fist down on the American’s toes, thus slowing her escape to a crawl.
In the same instant she straightened up and swept around behind the hobbling striker to apply an identical version of the hold she’d so recently escaped. Well, almost identical. Where Macy kept both feet on the mat for her Abdominal Stretch, Cromwell maintained the traditional arrangement only long enough to trap and really craaaaaaaaank back on Renquist’s right arm. Once that was set she hopped up and snaked her right leg over Macy’s hip, then crossed her ankles and made the Floridian gasp with a violent constriction!
LIZZIE'S ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9Mq8UdmN5E
Noting the clear distress on his charge’s face, Al Carpenter inched closer to the action and asked, “What do you say, Macy? Need to throw in the--”
“All I need is for you to get back and shut up.” Lizzie barked. “Even if she was ready to burble her shame, I’m hardly ready to let her--”
“Stick it up your ass.” Renquist interrupted. “I can take everything you dish out, prin--” Macy fell into a grim silence when Cromwell poured more pressure into the Scissors while also fastening a white-knuckle clamp on the Slappin’ Sensation’s right shoulder.
“What did you say to me?” Elizabeth asked, her voice charged with menace disguised as casual curiosity.
Macy grimaced, managed a step toward the ropes and suffered a long squeeze for her insolence. “You heard me.” she grunted.
“Yes I did. But I want you to say it again.”
The blonde took another step, huffed at the consequences. “I said I can take everything you can dish out, princessSSOOOOOOWWWWWW GAAAAAHHHD!”
Cromwell removed the claw from Renquist’s shoulder only to get a much louder reaction (from both her opponent and the FAWNatics) when she gouged that same talon into the Beach Blaster’s crotch! “There, there, dear. No need for lies.” Lizzie’s purred into the blonde’s ear as she continued to worry and ravage at Macy’s undercarriage. “We both know you don’t have the wherewithal to endure a fraction of the hell I can put you through, so why don’t you look into the camera and tell them you submit!”
Renquist shook her head ‘no’, lurched one step closer to the strands and almost took a knee when Elizabeth raked her from crotch to navel, not once, but more than half a dozen times! “I don’t settle for such slovenly real estate.” the Boarding School Princess continued to pour poisoned honey into Macy’s ear even as she treated the blonde’s togs to a possessive pat. “But it will no doubt make an interesting, albeit undeniably garish, conversation piece for my collect--”
Angry silence from the Briton as Renquist resumed her awkward trek to the strands. Cromwell didn’t try to stop her however, instead she continued to squeeze and wrench on the more, shall we say, professional elements of the Abdominal Stretch until the Beach Blaster reached out a hand and grabbed hold. “Break.” she demanded. “Break the hold damn you, I’m in the ropOOOOOWWWWWWWW FAAAAAAHHK!”
Lizzie paused her attack only long enough to slip her hand beneath the blonde’s waistband, thus bypassing those scant lycra defenses for a direct attack on Macy’s crotch. “Tell them.” she cooed in Renquist’s ear as the intimate grip continued to cause bulges and ripples in those defenseless togs. “Tell them you’re so much trash beneath my--”
“Break the hold, Elizabeth! Don’t make me tell you again!” Carpenter barked. “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Cromwell released with a derisive flourish, swiped her clawin’ hand across Macy’s pain-stamped face, then put both hands against her shoulders and sent her tumbling between the top and middle rope with a hard shove! The Beach Blaster was still latched onto the second strand and it was that grip that allowed her to finish on the apron rather than the flo--“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH BYTCH!”
More pained wails from the knock-kneed Floridian when Lizzie grabbed hold of her wrist, leaned down and began to chew on her fingers! Macy snarled and tried to slap the brunette’s head around sideways, alas the combination of claw-induced wooziness and the presence of the rubber-coated steel rendered her efforts quite ineffective. Al Carpenter had a much easier time of it, forcing the break from his charge with another brisk count of ‘FOUR!’
“All right, all right, she’s in the ropes, I understand!” Cromwell raised her hands and took several steps backward. “Good lord Carpenter, when did you become such a mollycoddle?”
“What? Who are you calling a mollycoddle? Ummhh, what’s a molly--”
The Young Lioness rushed the ropes, hopped up and delivered a Dropkick to Renquist’s head and left shoulder! Woefully unprepared for the cheap shot, Macy’s grip disintegrated and she tumbled to the floor in an awkward heap. Back in the ring, Lizzie grabbed hold of the top rope, mounted the second and raised her arms in a showy ‘V’. The boos started at once, not that they troubled Cromwell in the slightest. Indeed she answered with a cheery parade wave and a deep, theatrical bow. “Thank you! Thank you!” she taunted the FAWNatics. “You truly are the sorriest collection of vestigial humanity ever gathered to bask in my greatness! Please, escort this filth from my sight and then step into traffic at your earliest convenience!”
She would’ve continued in that vein if a bit of movement directly beneath her hadn’t drawn the Englishwoman’s attention. For Macy Renquist had grabbed hold of the apron in both hands and valiantly hauling herself uprig--THUMP! Cromwell hopped off her perch and came down full force, the soles of her boots just mashing the blonde’s fingers! Cackling with delight as Macy sobbed and yanked her hands away, Lizzie spun ‘round on her heel and sprinted to the far side of the ring. Heartbeats passed before she returned and then some, the vindictive brunette throwing herself into a headfirst dive over the middle rop--“NNNNNNNGGGGHHH!”
The Slappin’ Sensation proved she was a master of myriad strikes by lunging forward to THWHACK a Forearm Smash into the side of Lizzie’s face! Her dreams of flight dashed, Cromwell wound up hanging limp across the second strand, her face almost level with the apron. As for Macy, she took several deep breaths, then raked a hand through her hair as she mulled the next move. As of yet undecided, she pointed her right shoulder at the Briton, drew that arm back across her torso and casually CRAAACKED a Slap between Cromwell’s shoulders!
“TRAMP!” Lizzie wailed over the ‘WOO!’ of the crowd. “Keep your tacky hands off of RGH! RGH! RGH!”
Macy tattooed Liz’s back with half a dozen more slaps before she snatched a double handful of hair. Yanking her foe’s head up as she leaned in close, the blonde whispered, “So you want to catfight, huh? I didn’t think you had the guts to lose like that on a stage this big.”
“Yuuuhhh… you don’t know what it means to lose, twat.” Lizzie groaned, her words slightly slurred after the brutal head shot. “Not to me. Not when it leaves a marHRRGHAAAAARRRRRRHHHHH FAAAAAAAAAHK!”
Macy jerked the brunette’s noggin a little higher only to slam it against the rough edge of the apron! Of course one measly impact didn’t nearly make up for all the trunk torture she’d endured earlier in the match, so Renquist doubled down on her grip and began to draaaaaag Cromwell’s forehead back and forth along a six inch length of canvas. Elizabeth shrieked and fought like a wildcat, alas her positioning was awful and she couldn’t do much more than bat and scrabble at the Floridian’s forearms.
Such aggressive treatment administered outside the squared circle was sort of a gray area in the world of FAWN officiating, yet Al Carpenter kept things as consistent as he could by rattling off an internal ‘FIVE’ count before he cleared his throat and said, “That’s enough Macy. Get her off the ropes. And back in the ring. Preferably in that ord--well, one of two is ok, I guess.”
Trading her hold on the Englishwoman’s hair for a tawdry grip on her waistband, Renquist punished Lizzie with a scathing wedgie forceful enough to transfer her from the ropes to the floor. The Young Lioness landed with a forceful ‘SPLAT!’ that was immediately overwhelmed by her breathless groan and appreciative cheers from the crowd. Finally allowing herself a moment of respite, Macy placed her hands on her hips and took several deep breaths while Cromwell tried and failed to the same. Without appearing to think about it, she leaned down and delivered two quick Slaps, one to each breast.
“Did you think getting dropped on your head at Red, White & Bruised was embarrassing, Liz?” Renquist chided when the other Lightweight groaned and draped an arm across her chest. “Cutie, that was Easy Mode. We switched to Hard Mode the instant you started in on my trunks. And that means I don’t feel bad about this!”
Macy brushed that protecting limb aside, fashioned her hands into spades and grabbed hold of her rival’s modest curves! “BYTCH!” Lizzie grabbed hold of the blonde’s wrists, then sat up and scrambled to one knee, all while fighting to break Renquist’s grip. “GET YOUR FILTHY BEACH RAT PAWS OFF OF UUUUNNNNNGGGGHHH!”
The Slappin’ Sensation ‘helped’ Cromwell to boot-leather only to charge / ram her spine-first into the steel guardrail! Still in firm possession of her foe’s girls in the wake of that jarring impact, Macy kneaded and squeezed for several seconds before slotting a thigh between Lizzie’s legs for a short, but painful Kneelift to the crotch.
“Huuuuhhhh…how dare you.” the Boarding School Princess sounded nothing like herself as she tried to maintain verticality by keeping one arm (her right) stubbornly draped over the guardrail. “You will rue the day you thought to HHMMMMPPHHH!”
“Would you shut up?” Renquist abandoned one of her claws to cup that hand over her rival’s mouth. “I’m trying to listen to the count!” A short stretch of (relative) silence, then a clear ‘EIGHT!’ from Carpenter. “PLENTY of time!” Macy noted with exaggerated relief. Turning her attention to a woman in the front row, she went on. “Excuse me, sorry to trouble you, but this bytch is in way over her head. Can she borrow your chair to sit down for a while?”
The fan grinned, sprang out of her seat and offered it to Renquist, who shook her head ‘no’ and motioned to a spot beside her. “Just set it down there, Lizzie needs to take a load off, fast.” She did as bade and Macy sat Elizabeth down just as she’d promised. “Come on, Liz. Defend yourself.” the Beach Blaster demanded in the midst of another white-knuckle squeeze.
“Tacky slattern.” Lizzie grabbed hold of the American’s wrists, tried to pull them loose. “You have no idea what you’ve--” surprise from Cromwell and those assembled when Macy relinquished the catty clamp seemingly without provocation. Glancing up even as she threw a hand across her chest, the question in Lizzie’s eyes got blasted into the third row when the former Lightweight Champion reared back and CRAAACKED her across the face courtesy of the night’s stiffest Bytch Slap!
The Young Lioness rocked back in the chair, its front legs actually leaving the floor for a moment before Renquist, put a hand on Cromwell’s knee and pushed down. “Buuuhhh… buuuhhhh… bytch.” Lizzie mumbled louder than she’d intended, possibly in an effort to be heard over the ringing in her ears. “Such disrespect will not be tolerat--”
Macy, who’d shifted her attention back to the FAWNatics after pinking Elizabeth’s cheek, turned to the seated battler and upended a good four-fifths of one of those ridiculously expensive beers onto the brunette’s head! The suds did what the slap could not, the shock of it causing Lizzie to throw herself backward with such force that she toppled the chair and somersaulted to an incredulous, sputtering stop on all fours.
“Damn,” Renquist told the front rowers after she’d drained the remaining beer. “That tastes as good as it felt. Well… almost.”
“YOU VILE COW!” Lizzie shrieked those three words from her knees even as she swept beer-soaked hair out of her face. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, TREATING ME LIKE SOME--”
Volcanic indignation blossomed to truly righteous fury once Renquist tossed the empty cup at her penitent adversary. Cromwell swatted it out of the air, got to her feet and raced straight for the waiting blonde. Macy didn’t shy away, indeed she took a half step forward and bent over double to drive her right shoulder into the Englishwoman’s midsection. Bracing her hands against Elizabeth’s thighs at the moment of contact, the Beach Blaster straightened up to hurl the Boarding School Princess up, over and of course, down, Cromwell landing with a breathtaking THAWHUMP that earned groans of sympathetic anguish from even Lizzie’s staunchest detractors.
Delighted by the humbling drubbing she’d inflicted on the arrogant brat, Macy went to clap some invisible dust off her hands only to pause when she heard Carpenter’s count hit “EIGHTEEN!” Under the bottom rope in an instant, she raised a warding hand and said, “I know, I left the garbage out. Lemme go get it, I’ll be right back.”
The official didn’t bother to reply, he merely held his tongue and hoped the blonde would do as she’d indicated. In this he was not disappointed, as Renquist hauled Cromwell to verticality with a handful of trunks and tresses and slung her back into the squared circle. Macy slid in afterward, buried both hands in Lizzie’s lager-soaked locks and got to her feet while forcing the Briton to do the same. A single Kneelift to the belly kept Liz from arguing with the hair-hold, or would have if Renquist decided to maintain it. Instead she let go and whipped ‘round on Cromwell’s six so she could wrench the brunette’s arms behind her back in a Double Chickenwing.
“How am I treating you, Liz?” Macy whispered in Elizabeth’s ear as she tightened the simple grip. “Like trash? Or something even worse?”
“Truuuu…trash is too good for the likes of you, harNNNGHH!”
The Slappin’ Sensation sank into a deep crouch and peeled off a pristine bridge that tore Cromwell off her feet and PLANTED her on the back of her head and shoulders. Shoulders down, ass-up in the wake of the Tiger Suplex, Elizabeth remained the picture of hapless defeat through Carpenter’s count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
BRIDGING TIGER SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlY1JtKteKI
Disappointment for Macy and the rest of the FAWNatics when Cromwell twisted over onto her belly with perhaps half a second to spare. Knelt beside the vulnerable Briton, Renquist put her hands on her knees and huffed, “You still want to fight, Liz? That’s good, it sure felt like you were going to quit out there on the floor.”
“I… I don’t have it in me to quit, slattern.” Elizabeth groaned as she tried to pull herself together. “That is in fact the only arena where you will prove my superioRRRHHHHH!”
Macy smote her brunette with a windmilling Slap between the shoulders followed by another that scalded the slim curve of Lizzie’s glutes! “You’re entitled to your opinion, cutie.” Renquist’s hands were back in Cromwell’s hair, the blonde tugging her rival’s head from side to side while simultaneously scraping her off the mat. “But I’d like to check in with reality for a slightly less biased take, ok?”
The unprintable string of vile invective pouring forth from the Boarding School Princess suggested that she didn’t give a damn about Macy’s plans, unfortunately she was too woozy to do more than flap and paw at her attacker’s wrists. Macy made no effort to swat the Englishwoman’s defenses down because it meant she didn’t have to reach as far when she abruptly laid claim to Lizzie’s right wrist and pulled that arm snug under her chin, Cut-Throat style. Eyes going wide as she felt Renquist’s free (right) hand pressed to her shoulder, Cromwell lunged toward the ropes but only made it a few steps before the Beach Blaster yanked her back and around in a dizzying half circle that was just a precursor to the Bytch Mak--“OOOOOOWWWWWW!”
Lizzie couldn’t fight her way to the ropes, yet the whiplash repositioning meant both wrestlers were off balance and Cromwell made the most of it by stamping, then grrrriiinding her right heel down on the blonde’s right foot! Abandoning her hooks to tend to her mashed toes, Renquist hobble-hopped away from Cromwell only to wind up flat on her back when the Briton caught hold of her plant foot and yanked it out from underneath!
Wounded toes be damned, Macy drew her other leg in close and lashed out just as quickly, the vulnerable blonde landing a couple strong shots to her opponent’s left thigh. Lizzie hissed in pain, yet wouldn’t relinquish her grip. In fact she grabbed hold of Macy’s toes and twisted like she wanted to snap them off all at once! “SUBMIT!” Cromwell barked as she continued the small-joint manipulation. “Submit right now, you bytch!”
“F*CK YOU!” Renquist countered with more kicks aimed at the front and side of the brunette’s left thigh. “LEGGO OF MY GODDAMNED FOO--AAAAAAAWWWW GAAAAAAAAAAAHD!” Resounding boos from the ‘Mania crowd when Elizabeth leaned down and began to bite her prey’s toes! An agonizing attack for sure, though hardly a sustainable one as Al Carpenter was quick to note.
“Hey! No biting Lizzie! C’mon, knock that off!” The Young Lioness continued to gnash and gnaw, forcing the ref to count off, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Cromwell spat out her treat and forced that leg as far up and back as human anatomy would allow. This adjustment would’ve transformed Elizabeth’s attack into a full blown Wishbone if she’d bothered to pin Macy’s other foot to the mat. But such technical details were currently beyond Lizzie, who chose to further her advantage by driving the point of her boot into the fork of Renquist’s crotch! The resultant shudder racked Macy from head to toe, thus ensuring she was in no condition to prevent Cromwell from tucking her injured foot beneath the Englishwoman’s armpit.
Finally flashing a smile after she’d cupped her other hand over the Floridian’s knee, Lizzie set her feet and promised, “Now, you disgusting little harlot, I’m going to finish what Alves started so amateurishly.” With that she flipped Macy onto her stomach, stepped over and sat down deep, the Boarding School Princess claiming a heavy, domineering perch atop the small of her prey’s back.
HALF BOSTON CRAB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgoK3cNgHDI
Hands buried in her own hair in a desperate attempt to spread out the pain caused by the Single Leg Crab, Renquist gamely shook her head ‘no’ when Carpenter dropped to one knee beside the action. “How are you doing, Macy? Need me to call for the bell?”
“NO!” Renquist answered after she’d traded in her hair-hold for a tenacious grip on the canvas. “Just get out of the way, Al. I’ve got some ropes to RRRRGGHHHH!”
Elizabeth eased up a little so she could slide backward and settle into a new seat squarely between the Floridian’s shoulders. “You’re going nowhere, slattern!” the Young Lioness promised as she put more on more pressure on her opponent’s wrenched knee. “And don’t even think about simply tapping the mat. I want to hear you begging for merc--”
Jaw clenched to prevent another loud scream, Macy puuuuuusssshed up in spite of the brunette’s encroaching weight and began dragging the both of ‘em toward the sanctuary of the strands.
“You insolent little toe rag, do you think I’d waste precious oxygen speaking to you if I wasn’t deadly serious?” Cromwell barked at the struggling Beach Blaster.
“Thuuuuhhhh… that’s exactly what I think.” Macy growled. “I’ve never met a bytch more in love with the sound of her own voice.”
Uncharacteristic silence from Elizabeth, so the blonde redoubled her escape efforts. She’d drawn to within a foot of the bottom rope when Lizzie shifted Macy’s trapped leg from under one arm to between her thighs an instant before she laid out in a heavy sprawl on the blonde’s back. Just like that she locked both hands against Renquist’s jaw and CRANKED up on the STF!
STF:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cgoseVfUCrI
“You’ll grow to love the sound of my voice, beach rat.” Cromwell cooed to her struggling victim. “Or perhaps you’ll hate it so much a single word will make you burst into tears. Are you going to cry, huh? Let’s hear you bawl!” The Boarding School Princess yoked Macy’s head up and down close to a dozen times and while she did in fact scream quite loudly, she refused to surrender. Carpenter also refrained from asking again, though he kept a close eye on the trapped wrestler’s slow progress. “Tap out.” Lizzie had shifted from occasional barbs to a steady stream of trash talk murmured into Macy’s ear. “Admit you’re helpless and I’ll let you trudge up the ramp with your head down. Deny me and you’ll leave on a stretcher wearing nothing but the loser’s tee-shirt. If you’re lucky.”
Renquist was all of four inches from the strands now, but her right arm was already stretched out full length and it was wavering dangerously. “Yes, that’s right.” Lizzie was all smiles as she planted a kiss on Macy’s feverish cheek. “Resign yourself to--”
The Slappin’ Sensation gouged her left elbow into the deck and used it slide forward just enough to grab the bottom rope. “Muuuhhh… make the most of that four count, you prissy bytch.” Renquist groaned. “I’ll be making you quit soon enouNGH! NGH! NGH! HHHRRRRGGHHH!”
An infuriated Lizzie abandoned the Chinlock to bury her hands in the blonde’s hair and then SLAMMED her face against the mat half a dozen times before scraping those delicate features back and forth until Al reached an emphatic ‘FOUR!’ Not about to tolerate any more of the ref’s nattering, Elizabeth released the STF and slid out onto the floor.
“Still grasping at the ropes, are we?” Cromwell swatted the blonde’s right hand, which was indeed clamped around the bottom strand. “I’m afraid that’s not nearly enough to compete with someone of my calibRRHHHH!”
Macy let go and flicked that hand under the rope to CRAAACK Liz across the cheek! “Yeah,” Renquist taunted over the cheers of the crowd, “you DO slap like someone of fine OOOOOOOHHHHHH FAAAAAAAAAAAHK!”
Elizabeth snatched the blonde’s right wrist in one hand, then wrenched her index and middle fingers apart and nocked them against the bottom rope. After that she grabbed hold of those vulnerable digits and squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezed as hard as she could! “SLAP ME AGAIN!” Cromwell screamed at the squalling American. “DO IT AND I’LL SNAP YOUR FINGERS ONE BY ONE!”
“CRAZY BYTCH!” Macy thrashed like a downed power-line as she fought to free her trapped hand. “F*CKING LET GO OF MEEE-AAAARRRRGGHHH!”
Elizabeth did as ordered, unfortunately it was only to palm the blonde’s noggin and dig her thumbs into Renquist’s eyes! “For Chrissakes, Liz, get off her eyes!” Al shouted from somewhere high overhead.
The Boarding School Princess bared her teeth, dug her claws a little deeper and shook Macy’s head like a terrier shakes a rat. “THAT’S the kind of sniveling I want!” she snarled to the writhing blonde. “Throw in a little pleading and you’ll be halfway ther--”
“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!” Lizzie released the illegal grip with obvious disgust while Renquist raised both hands to protect her stinging--NO! Shouts of outrage from the FAWNatics and a wail of distress from the Beach Blaster when Cromwell laid claim to her right wrist and drew that arm out under the bottom rope. Left foot braced against the apron for additional leverage, Elizabeth pushed off to yank the side of Macy’s neck into the rubber-coated steel!
“GODDAMN YOU!” Renquist grabbed the rope with her free hand and tried to force it up over her head but she only succeeded in scraping her ear and cheek something fierce. GET OFFA ME, I’M IN THE ROPESSSAAAAAHHHHH GAAAAWW F*CKING STOP BITING!”
Having resumed her chewing mere heartbeats prior, Lizzie kept at her malicious mastication with special attention paid to the blonde’s index and middle fingers. She would’ve kept at it for quite a bit longer if not for another abrupt count from Al Carpenter.
“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped at him. “I am on the floor, a position that ensures me a--”
“Let go of her wrist and you can have a full twenty seconds.” Carpenter interrupted.
“I most certainly will not. This belongs to me now. Isn’t that right, Macy?” She punctuated the claim by pulling the American’s fingers apart in an involuntary Vulcan peace sign.
The Slappin’ Sensation grit her teeth and moaned while continuing to paw and push at the rubber-coated steel. “Get her off, Al.” she hissed. “Get her off before she--”
Cromwell removed her foot from the apron which allowed Macy to draw back from the ropes even though her wrist was still in the Briton’s possession. This thought was still fresh on her mind when Elizabeth stretched that injured hand out flat, then planted a knee atop it so she could boost herself onto the apron! This brought on a fresh round of flailing, Macy burying her face in the crook of her left elbow so she could muffle another anguished scream.
“One more four count, Elizabeth.” Al’s tone was grave. “You don’t let go, I call for the bell, then file paperwork to have you suspended.”
The Young Lioness glared up at him, clearly unwilling to give up her prize even now. “You don’t have the spine, Carp--”
“One. Two. Three. Four.”
Elizabeth stood up and Macy rolled away at once, the blonde sobbing with relief as she curled up around her mangled hand. Finally turning her attention to the cacophony of jeers accosting her from all sides, Cromwell took an insufferably long time to smooth her hair down and ‘flick’ her bottoms back into place. Once she felt presentable (or at least as presentable as the Orlando trash deserved), the brunette slipped through the strands and strutted toward the flattened blonde.
“Slap me now.” she bent down and SMACKED Macy’s ass. “Slap me now, I said.” Renquist cursed, clambered to all fours (three of four, actually), absorbing several more slaps to the back of the head and shoulders in the process. “Come now slattern, this is the biggest show of the year! The whole world is watching! Surely you won’t allow me to slap you at will, like you were nothing more than COMMON (SLAP!) FLORIDA (SLAP!) BEACH (SLAP!) TRANNGGGHH!”
Macy balled her left hand into a fist and buried it in the brunette’s navel! Lizzie grunted, reached for the penitent wrestler’s hair and soaked up three more punches to the belly. The last shot doubled Cromwell over, though she didn’t stay there long because the Beach Blaster reared back and CRAAACKED her across the mouth with a resounding Bytch Slap!
Elizabeth’s head snapped back and the rest of her followed, the staggering separation allowing Macy enough time to regain her feet. “You think I need both hands to put you down?” the blonde huffed as she walked down the Young Lioness. “Just a glimpse of your prissy face is motivation enough to slap it into the first--”
Cromwell shrieked like a banshee and lunged at Renquist, her left hand sweeping a wide arc toward Macy’s fa-- “AAAHHHH F*CK YOOOOOUUUUUUU!”
The Slappin’ Sensation raised her right arm to deflect the blow only to scream bloody murder when Lizzie grabbed her fingers and bent them back at an ungodly angle! Renquist’s legs shivered like insane tuning forks, a condition that prompted Cromwell to stuff a huge Kneelift into the pit of her rival’s stomach. Macy crumpled to her knees, tried to rise and was promptly hobbled by another merciless squeeze of her hurtin’ hand. Yet a third constriction earned a keening ‘don’t hurt me!’ sob from Renquist, so Lizzie let go, buried a talon in the blonde’s hair and jerked her head back to force blazing eye contact.
“The lesson is over and you have been found sorely lacking. All that remains is dismissal. In in your case, expulsion.”
“Guuuhhh… go to hell, LizZZNNNGGHH!”
The Boarding School Princess slapped her rival across the face, then slapped on a Front Facelock and hauled Macy upright. Immediately thereafter she reached her right arm across the Floridian’s waist, palmed her right hip and deftly scooped Renquist onto her right shoulder. Macy was still settling into her new perch when Cromwell kicked both legs forward and dropped to her butt to THAWHONK the crown of Renquist’s skull into the deck with revolting force! Dismissed from contention and consciousness by the Prep School Expulsion, a starfished Macy offered nothing save a soft groan when Lizzie climbed into a seat that brought the full weight of her undercarriage to bear on Renquist’s nose and mouth. Flashing a demure smile that didn’t come anywhere near her eyes, Elizabeth pressed her thighs together and laid her hands on her thighs while Al and the FAWNatics tolled off a dispirited…
PREP SCHOOL EXPULSION:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_iI6MuTBkg
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Expression shifting from demure to diabolical at the sound of the bell, the Young Lioness made a show of bouncing in place as the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… ELIZABETH CROMWELL!”
The jeers were already loud, they rose to glass-threatening levels when Lizzie pushed up and swiveled around into a sort of Sidesaddle Face Sit that allowed her to look into the hard cam while keeping Macy buried in buttock.
“You have no idea how tempting it is to stomp your hands into oblivion.” Cromwell addressed the camera, though her words were clearly for the blonde snuffling against her haunches. “Doing so would rid me of your odious presence once and for all, however it would also leave our series tied at one. No matter that it was a fluke, I’ll be damned if I let ANY record proclaim you as my equal. So, dear Macy. I’ll leave you your hands… and this…” Lizzie bit her bottom lip as she bore down and ground taut little figure eights on Renquist’s slumbering mug.
“In return for my generosity, I’ll take this.” she grabbed Macy’s top between the cups and snatched it away with a single violent yank.
On her feet shortly thereafter, the Young Lioness tucked the shorn top in against her right hip and planted that foot atop Renquist’s chest for one more Gladiatrix-worthy shot before the feed cut to a promo for the Tag Team Title match.