Post by SammieSinclair on Sept 16, 2014 13:30:52 GMT
...Alexis hit the corner turnbuckle far harder than she would have liked, the centre of her back spiked by the exposed metal buckle that a certain, conniving little skank had seen fit to rip off the padded cover from earlier in the contest. She remembered that little incident all too clearly now as the steel dug itself deep into her smooth, ivory skin with a groan inducing intensity that entirely bypassed the essentially nonexistent defences of her red and white striped, sports bra top.
Alexis Atlantic
Many of a competitor would have immediately surrendered to their body’s instinct to slump and momentarily surrender to the torment, but the short stacked American liked to believe she was made of sterner stuff and, even more so, she liked to prove it. The scrappy blonde shook it off and squared her impressive shoulders, blue eyes spying the rapidly approaching brunette that was her opponent, applying a fierce smirk to her features as the ‘Marvellous’ Marvela Marcille sought to take advantage.
Marvela Marcille
As the brunette lightweight leapt into an Avalanche Splash, Alexis swung both her forearms up and her right knee in a defensive posture, greeting the attack like an especially game hedgehog. Marvela had time to open her own brown eyes wide in alarm before her own momentum impaled her on the protective and suddenly very pointy limbs!
Marcille jack knifed away, grunting as she was expelled from her chosen target, gasping as she suddenly found herself shuddering for new breadth, the inevitable conclusion of being knifed by an elbow between her bosoms. She retreated, one hand held palm outwards as she window washed the air for a time out, the other cradling her crimson clad chest. She shook her head, eyes wide with horror, calling for an interval as she had already done more than once tonight.
Alexis uncurled from her surprisingly effective ball and pushed her fighting fit mass out of the corner with an eager grunt. She shook her head out and rolled her shoulders as she advanced quickly, both young woman gleaming with a fresh sheen of sweat, both having gone all out for almost the entire match’s length. The contest had gone on far longer than the attitudes of the elitist Marcille would approve of, but not nearly long enough for the brawling tendencies of Atlantic.
“Not going how you imagined?” Alexis questioned, not showing a hint of intimidation for the former World Champion of the Rumble Roses Federation, shrugging her shoulders before swinging an almighty haymaker with her right fist. “Fair fights are like that!”
As match winning blows go, it would have impressed any boxer had it connected, but the brunette dropped her facade of being helpless and blocked it with an expertly raised forearm. The two limbs met each other high with a small thud, rattling them both with shards of pain that ran straight down to each other’s shoulders, but with Marvela the one to expect it, she was far better placed to retaliate.
She responded with a left uppercut barely a heartbeat later, her up swinging fist planting itself deep into the impressively firm midriff of the smaller Atlantic sister. Alexis GUFFED for air as the impact landed firmly, pulverising already tenderised abs from earlier and lifting the crowd favourite right up onto her blue booted tip toes, the young woman staggering as she withdrew.
“Your delusions persist despite the fairly obvious,” Marcille condescended with a snippy tone as she advanced, unwilling to give the same distance she herself had begged for not moments earlier. “But strays must be put out of their misery.”
Winded, and admittedly as weary as she was, Alexis was in little position to do much otherwise as Marvela cupped her right shoulder and capitalised on her current unbalanced frame to spiral her a full one eighty. Now front to back with her freshly minted rival, Marcille slid in close to the blondes back, slipping her head beneath one limp arm, encircling her back whilst cupping the competitive young woman’s firm, powerful right thigh.
Hiding the effort required to do so like a self obsessed pro, the brunette bent her knees before popping her wide eyed opponent high into the air, almost boosting the other young woman’s buttocks up to shoulder height. Alexis bucked her hips in obvious defiance, but these proved to be futile efforts at best as the Brunette fell backwards, bringing her unwilling cargo with her in a falling Backdrop Slam.
@4:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pXNd0Xi57Gk&list=PLPuOyWan3CRtvAueY2CzTLJJehBWV1ver
The smallest of the Atlantic Sisters grunted a hollow groan as the back of her head and shoulders slammed down hard against the canvas, the thud of the abused plywood boards echoing her own moan. They buckled and then snapped back, just like she did, the wonderfully, competitively compact form of the battling blonde cradling into a small ball before popping back out to straight, her pulverised body bouncing one inch off the canvas before she crumbled over onto her side.
She continued groaning; Alexis pained and yet clearly still conscious, tapping the toes of one of her blue boots sideways against the canvas as she fought to gather her resources. Her fallen posture was a worrying contrast to the quickly sitting brunette against whom she had fought so valiantly, Marvela no doubt weary but relishing her superiority, smirking as she turned her chin up at the watching FAWNatics, smug in her satisfaction at proving them all so very wrong.
Her contempt returned a thousand fold as she turned her undivided attention back to the slowly stirring Alexis, scorn written across her otherwise flawless features as the former (undefeated) Champion of another Federation scoffed the pitiful attempts on display to match her. She rolled over onto one, crimson clad thigh before pushing up to standing, grabbing and yanking on the dirty blonde locks of her new rival, reminding the other young woman to remember her position in the pecking order from now on as she dragged the unwilling scrapper back up to kneeling.
Alexis, with one blue eye closed and wincing, allowed her cheeks to flush an angry crimson as she pulled back her right fist and then threw it forwards in fury. With her finely honed bicep tensed and her fingers clenched, her knuckles made direct impact with the unguarded tummy of the Elegant Elitist, a supportive cry from the gathered masses greeting the defiant gesture. And yet, while it landed true, it was obvious to everyone that it lacked the power she had wielded so readily before, no more so than to the target of her aggression.
Marvela “guffed” out a small huff as her abs were punished by a set of well aimed knuckles, but it was smile that followed the small, involuntary hop backwards of her toes across the canvas. It was a bewildered, mildly exasperated expression upon witnessing the antics of an especially slow child, but if anyone was fooled by such mannerisms being good natured, they were to be swiftly proven wrong.
“You ignorant!” she switched to the sneer she wore so well and LAUNCHED her right knee upwards, one fantastically sculptured limb snapping into a strike that POUNDED the blunt bone squarely between the storm blue peepers of the reeling Alexis, her hands dug deep into the outmatched fighters blonde mane to keep her docile. The blow was crippling, Atlantic’s kneeling body juddering with a sharp jerk, arms flailing upwards into the air to either side with a severe spasm before flopping and swaying lifeless.
“Impudent!” a second knee followed the first, just as forceful and somehow even more vindictive, the flag attired frame of the miniature beauty slumping as she recoiled, her firm, stars and striped attired toosh resting forlornly against the heels of her own boots.
“TROLL!” the ‘Marvellous’ Marvela lost her cool composure for that single moment, the third and final knee strike burying itself between the bewildered and surely blinded peepers of her opponent. Alexis shuddered but barely jerked, too many receptors shut down beneath the rapid influx of severe, blunt force trauma to her noggin finally rendering her close enough to compliant for the brunettes liking.
Marcille released her hold of her rivals dirty blonde mane and was (not openly) quietly impressed to witness that she was in fact still fractionally conscious. Atlantic remained kneeling, even insensible as she now was, and Marvela found it all amusing enough to let the moment linger, raising her arms up and silently asking the FAWNatics if they finally understood.
She was simply too good for this most pitiful of arenas.
With a firm, satisfied sigh she brought her right leg back up, the magnificent stem the secret desire and envy of many of those watching, planting the sole of her crimson boot between the bosoms of her defeated foe and shoved hard, kicking her dismissively down onto the canvas. Much to the spectator’s distress, Atlantic compliantly crumpled over onto her back, folding at the knees so that the heels of her boots pushed up into her own, taunt buttocks, and her shoulders rested on the mat, the crowd favourite finally felled in this hard fought contest.
Marvela possessed no interest in showing respect as she remained standing, swishing her hair imperiously across one shoulder before keeping her foot in place, the sole of her boot planted between her defeated rival’s breasts. It was the only effort she was prepared to make by way of pin and, as she smiled indulgently to her ‘beloved’ masses she planted one hand on shapely hip whilst holding the other high, motioning with a condescending thumbs down.
The Official, well versed to such dramatics regardless of how much he may dislike them, dropped down to the canvas with a professionalism that few in the area would have been willing to match. He began his count, Alexis answering with barely a fluttering of her usually steely peepers.
ONE!
TWO!!
THR...NO!!
Atlantic thrust up a shoulder with an angry grunt, a familiar series of grumbles upon her lips as she not only rolled free but slapped her hand hard against the offending boot planted like a flag upon her body. She was recovering quickly, now that she had spurned herself back to life as only Hardbodies, even those of the miniature variety could, showing reserves of stamina of which Marcille was most displeased.
Marvela answered the pedestrians slap against her ankle with an indignant gasp but clamped down hard on any further utterances, it would not do for her ‘sea of admirers’ to witness her fluster, vindicated or not. Instead she remained tight lipped as the crimson clad, former fan favourite ducked low and collected her resilient opponent the moment she had pushed up onto her hands and knees, fiercely cupping the blonde by her proud mane and beneath her chin. The weary and still woozy Alexis was dragged upwards with a violently twisted tug, the grunt of pain pleasing to the Magnificent Marvel that was now free to toy with her, the stars and striped clad, fiercely fighting beauty little better off now than she was before, and she was dragged towards a firm side headlock.
She clearly didn’t like the thought of that, not as braced her blue boots apart upon the canvas and pressed one fist in tight against her other palm. With a fresh grunt, this time born of determination, Atlantic pointed her elbow and swung it upwards, momentum added with her other arm and then some as tensed her sleek and strong biceps, the pointed joint landed true and dug deep into a bare, unprepared and utterly unprotected midriff!!
Marvela “GUFFED!!” a great GASP of escaping air as she was hupped clean up onto her tip toes, her cheeks almost exploding from her otherwise stunning features as she struggled to catch up. Alexis wasn’t finished though, and the blonde threw a second elbow, a third swiftly following which, if anything, was filled with even more righteous vigour. Marcille was lifted clean off her feet with the last one, landing with a small bob and a dangerously shaky shimmy in her knees, arms wrapped about her gulping tummy as her eyes were spread wider than they ever had been before.
As satisfying as it was to doll out some retribution, the flag attired brawler didn’t hang around to enjoy her handiwork, not when there was more work to be doled out. After inhaling a short breadth that her freshly minted rival was suddenly so short on, Atlantic narrowed her inspiringly focused gaze and shot off towards the ring ropes, the Lightweight as eager to embrace them as any other of her weight class, despite her lack of a high flying reputation. She hit them confidently enough, turning at the last moment to allow the coils to embrace her shoulders, the moment lingering as they stretched about her gorgeous frame and she zeroed in on her target like a bird of prey before they snapped taunt and, with an almost audible snap, they propelled her back towards centre ring at blistering speeds.
Marvela was still gasping, folded forwards and retreating as quickly as her shaky, sublimely sculptured stems would allow her, head shaking and tear stained orbs wet with panic as the damnible Atlantic zeroed in, a deer if there ever was one caught in the rapidly approaching headli...
The FAWNatics gasped in despair as she displayed the fortitude that had won her a World Title elsewhere, battling through her own pains and casting aside the facade of panic as she unfurled from her penitent stance to launch a blistering up swinging kick. With a victorious CRY, one that sounded dangerously akin to a magician revealing her tricks, she buried the toes of her boot deep into the carved tummy of Alexis, rapidly exchanging their fates from earlier.
Much to the crowds despair, it was the turn of Atlantic to be caught unawares, a mighty GROAN!! accompanying her failed charge as she was almost upended, every inch of her stunning frame shuddering with expelled breath as her body almost crumbled. She stumbled forwards haphazardly, rocking from left to right as she took her turn to encircle an abused midriff, moaning with juddering exhales as she turned into a rough half circle, defiant even now as she was determined to remain standing.
It proved to be a moot gesture, the shouts of warning from the crowd going unheeded as she met a waiting Marvela, the brunette allowing herself a moment of satisfaction as she stuffed the difficult blondes head between her own firm thighs. She clenched, enjoying the feel of that and the involuntary jerk that ran the length of her rivals body, reaching forwards to slap the equally young woman’s sides and collect a pair of powerful arms in a double underhook.
While she perhaps seemed prepared to deliver a pedigree, Marvela considered that to be far too banal and instead opted to be generous, reminding her former fanbase just how exactly she had won the coveted World Championship of the Rumble Roses Federation. She dipped her knees and with an excited shout displayed her own might, lifting the boots of Alexis clean of the canvas and rotating the stunning brawler into a full circle high into the air as if flying the flag the defeated girl wore. At the apex she released, driving Atlantic ground wards with devastating force, the rightly feared Bombastic Bomb claiming its first victim in almost a year...
@0:45.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lVniF7hWPc&list=PLPuOyWan3CRtvAueY2CzTLJJehBWV1ver
If Alexis cried out, then to her relief it was silent, her blue eyes blank from the moment her back, shoulders and head met the canvas with a worrying CRACK of abused boards. Both bodies bounced from the impact, but clearly only one was victorious as Marvela followed through, the shapely stems of the broken blond lifeless at the knees over the brunettes tensed shoulders, pelvis pressed in possessively against buttocks as Marcille rolled up the surely unconscious Atlantic for a new pin.
The Official was there once more...
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
This time there was no doubt, and Marcille made sure as she indulgently smirked down into the defeated features of her new Rival, claiming the first scalp of their feud as she held the pin for longer than need be. Their foreheads met, as she savoured the moment, certain to make eye contact, they vacancy of the blue orbs she gazed into all the more delicious.
She finally got up, allowing Alexis to flop out of her forced ball into a limp limbed spread eagle, returning her boot to the other young woman’s chest where it belonged, stamping her foot as though planting a flag. The FAWNatics did not approve, but she most certainly did, holding her arms out high and smiling proudly, accepting the accolades that no longer existed with all of the good grace that only she, the ‘Original’ People’s Princess could summon.
If the Neanderthals in charge were going to force her to start at the bottom once more, then so be it, but while she was here then it was only right to remind everyone what it now meant to be so.
It meant to be in her kingdom.
Alexis Atlantic
Many of a competitor would have immediately surrendered to their body’s instinct to slump and momentarily surrender to the torment, but the short stacked American liked to believe she was made of sterner stuff and, even more so, she liked to prove it. The scrappy blonde shook it off and squared her impressive shoulders, blue eyes spying the rapidly approaching brunette that was her opponent, applying a fierce smirk to her features as the ‘Marvellous’ Marvela Marcille sought to take advantage.
Marvela Marcille
As the brunette lightweight leapt into an Avalanche Splash, Alexis swung both her forearms up and her right knee in a defensive posture, greeting the attack like an especially game hedgehog. Marvela had time to open her own brown eyes wide in alarm before her own momentum impaled her on the protective and suddenly very pointy limbs!
Marcille jack knifed away, grunting as she was expelled from her chosen target, gasping as she suddenly found herself shuddering for new breadth, the inevitable conclusion of being knifed by an elbow between her bosoms. She retreated, one hand held palm outwards as she window washed the air for a time out, the other cradling her crimson clad chest. She shook her head, eyes wide with horror, calling for an interval as she had already done more than once tonight.
Alexis uncurled from her surprisingly effective ball and pushed her fighting fit mass out of the corner with an eager grunt. She shook her head out and rolled her shoulders as she advanced quickly, both young woman gleaming with a fresh sheen of sweat, both having gone all out for almost the entire match’s length. The contest had gone on far longer than the attitudes of the elitist Marcille would approve of, but not nearly long enough for the brawling tendencies of Atlantic.
“Not going how you imagined?” Alexis questioned, not showing a hint of intimidation for the former World Champion of the Rumble Roses Federation, shrugging her shoulders before swinging an almighty haymaker with her right fist. “Fair fights are like that!”
As match winning blows go, it would have impressed any boxer had it connected, but the brunette dropped her facade of being helpless and blocked it with an expertly raised forearm. The two limbs met each other high with a small thud, rattling them both with shards of pain that ran straight down to each other’s shoulders, but with Marvela the one to expect it, she was far better placed to retaliate.
She responded with a left uppercut barely a heartbeat later, her up swinging fist planting itself deep into the impressively firm midriff of the smaller Atlantic sister. Alexis GUFFED for air as the impact landed firmly, pulverising already tenderised abs from earlier and lifting the crowd favourite right up onto her blue booted tip toes, the young woman staggering as she withdrew.
“Your delusions persist despite the fairly obvious,” Marcille condescended with a snippy tone as she advanced, unwilling to give the same distance she herself had begged for not moments earlier. “But strays must be put out of their misery.”
Winded, and admittedly as weary as she was, Alexis was in little position to do much otherwise as Marvela cupped her right shoulder and capitalised on her current unbalanced frame to spiral her a full one eighty. Now front to back with her freshly minted rival, Marcille slid in close to the blondes back, slipping her head beneath one limp arm, encircling her back whilst cupping the competitive young woman’s firm, powerful right thigh.
Hiding the effort required to do so like a self obsessed pro, the brunette bent her knees before popping her wide eyed opponent high into the air, almost boosting the other young woman’s buttocks up to shoulder height. Alexis bucked her hips in obvious defiance, but these proved to be futile efforts at best as the Brunette fell backwards, bringing her unwilling cargo with her in a falling Backdrop Slam.
@4:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pXNd0Xi57Gk&list=PLPuOyWan3CRtvAueY2CzTLJJehBWV1ver
The smallest of the Atlantic Sisters grunted a hollow groan as the back of her head and shoulders slammed down hard against the canvas, the thud of the abused plywood boards echoing her own moan. They buckled and then snapped back, just like she did, the wonderfully, competitively compact form of the battling blonde cradling into a small ball before popping back out to straight, her pulverised body bouncing one inch off the canvas before she crumbled over onto her side.
She continued groaning; Alexis pained and yet clearly still conscious, tapping the toes of one of her blue boots sideways against the canvas as she fought to gather her resources. Her fallen posture was a worrying contrast to the quickly sitting brunette against whom she had fought so valiantly, Marvela no doubt weary but relishing her superiority, smirking as she turned her chin up at the watching FAWNatics, smug in her satisfaction at proving them all so very wrong.
Her contempt returned a thousand fold as she turned her undivided attention back to the slowly stirring Alexis, scorn written across her otherwise flawless features as the former (undefeated) Champion of another Federation scoffed the pitiful attempts on display to match her. She rolled over onto one, crimson clad thigh before pushing up to standing, grabbing and yanking on the dirty blonde locks of her new rival, reminding the other young woman to remember her position in the pecking order from now on as she dragged the unwilling scrapper back up to kneeling.
Alexis, with one blue eye closed and wincing, allowed her cheeks to flush an angry crimson as she pulled back her right fist and then threw it forwards in fury. With her finely honed bicep tensed and her fingers clenched, her knuckles made direct impact with the unguarded tummy of the Elegant Elitist, a supportive cry from the gathered masses greeting the defiant gesture. And yet, while it landed true, it was obvious to everyone that it lacked the power she had wielded so readily before, no more so than to the target of her aggression.
Marvela “guffed” out a small huff as her abs were punished by a set of well aimed knuckles, but it was smile that followed the small, involuntary hop backwards of her toes across the canvas. It was a bewildered, mildly exasperated expression upon witnessing the antics of an especially slow child, but if anyone was fooled by such mannerisms being good natured, they were to be swiftly proven wrong.
“You ignorant!” she switched to the sneer she wore so well and LAUNCHED her right knee upwards, one fantastically sculptured limb snapping into a strike that POUNDED the blunt bone squarely between the storm blue peepers of the reeling Alexis, her hands dug deep into the outmatched fighters blonde mane to keep her docile. The blow was crippling, Atlantic’s kneeling body juddering with a sharp jerk, arms flailing upwards into the air to either side with a severe spasm before flopping and swaying lifeless.
“Impudent!” a second knee followed the first, just as forceful and somehow even more vindictive, the flag attired frame of the miniature beauty slumping as she recoiled, her firm, stars and striped attired toosh resting forlornly against the heels of her own boots.
“TROLL!” the ‘Marvellous’ Marvela lost her cool composure for that single moment, the third and final knee strike burying itself between the bewildered and surely blinded peepers of her opponent. Alexis shuddered but barely jerked, too many receptors shut down beneath the rapid influx of severe, blunt force trauma to her noggin finally rendering her close enough to compliant for the brunettes liking.
Marcille released her hold of her rivals dirty blonde mane and was (not openly) quietly impressed to witness that she was in fact still fractionally conscious. Atlantic remained kneeling, even insensible as she now was, and Marvela found it all amusing enough to let the moment linger, raising her arms up and silently asking the FAWNatics if they finally understood.
She was simply too good for this most pitiful of arenas.
With a firm, satisfied sigh she brought her right leg back up, the magnificent stem the secret desire and envy of many of those watching, planting the sole of her crimson boot between the bosoms of her defeated foe and shoved hard, kicking her dismissively down onto the canvas. Much to the spectator’s distress, Atlantic compliantly crumpled over onto her back, folding at the knees so that the heels of her boots pushed up into her own, taunt buttocks, and her shoulders rested on the mat, the crowd favourite finally felled in this hard fought contest.
Marvela possessed no interest in showing respect as she remained standing, swishing her hair imperiously across one shoulder before keeping her foot in place, the sole of her boot planted between her defeated rival’s breasts. It was the only effort she was prepared to make by way of pin and, as she smiled indulgently to her ‘beloved’ masses she planted one hand on shapely hip whilst holding the other high, motioning with a condescending thumbs down.
The Official, well versed to such dramatics regardless of how much he may dislike them, dropped down to the canvas with a professionalism that few in the area would have been willing to match. He began his count, Alexis answering with barely a fluttering of her usually steely peepers.
ONE!
TWO!!
THR...NO!!
Atlantic thrust up a shoulder with an angry grunt, a familiar series of grumbles upon her lips as she not only rolled free but slapped her hand hard against the offending boot planted like a flag upon her body. She was recovering quickly, now that she had spurned herself back to life as only Hardbodies, even those of the miniature variety could, showing reserves of stamina of which Marcille was most displeased.
Marvela answered the pedestrians slap against her ankle with an indignant gasp but clamped down hard on any further utterances, it would not do for her ‘sea of admirers’ to witness her fluster, vindicated or not. Instead she remained tight lipped as the crimson clad, former fan favourite ducked low and collected her resilient opponent the moment she had pushed up onto her hands and knees, fiercely cupping the blonde by her proud mane and beneath her chin. The weary and still woozy Alexis was dragged upwards with a violently twisted tug, the grunt of pain pleasing to the Magnificent Marvel that was now free to toy with her, the stars and striped clad, fiercely fighting beauty little better off now than she was before, and she was dragged towards a firm side headlock.
She clearly didn’t like the thought of that, not as braced her blue boots apart upon the canvas and pressed one fist in tight against her other palm. With a fresh grunt, this time born of determination, Atlantic pointed her elbow and swung it upwards, momentum added with her other arm and then some as tensed her sleek and strong biceps, the pointed joint landed true and dug deep into a bare, unprepared and utterly unprotected midriff!!
Marvela “GUFFED!!” a great GASP of escaping air as she was hupped clean up onto her tip toes, her cheeks almost exploding from her otherwise stunning features as she struggled to catch up. Alexis wasn’t finished though, and the blonde threw a second elbow, a third swiftly following which, if anything, was filled with even more righteous vigour. Marcille was lifted clean off her feet with the last one, landing with a small bob and a dangerously shaky shimmy in her knees, arms wrapped about her gulping tummy as her eyes were spread wider than they ever had been before.
As satisfying as it was to doll out some retribution, the flag attired brawler didn’t hang around to enjoy her handiwork, not when there was more work to be doled out. After inhaling a short breadth that her freshly minted rival was suddenly so short on, Atlantic narrowed her inspiringly focused gaze and shot off towards the ring ropes, the Lightweight as eager to embrace them as any other of her weight class, despite her lack of a high flying reputation. She hit them confidently enough, turning at the last moment to allow the coils to embrace her shoulders, the moment lingering as they stretched about her gorgeous frame and she zeroed in on her target like a bird of prey before they snapped taunt and, with an almost audible snap, they propelled her back towards centre ring at blistering speeds.
Marvela was still gasping, folded forwards and retreating as quickly as her shaky, sublimely sculptured stems would allow her, head shaking and tear stained orbs wet with panic as the damnible Atlantic zeroed in, a deer if there ever was one caught in the rapidly approaching headli...
The FAWNatics gasped in despair as she displayed the fortitude that had won her a World Title elsewhere, battling through her own pains and casting aside the facade of panic as she unfurled from her penitent stance to launch a blistering up swinging kick. With a victorious CRY, one that sounded dangerously akin to a magician revealing her tricks, she buried the toes of her boot deep into the carved tummy of Alexis, rapidly exchanging their fates from earlier.
Much to the crowds despair, it was the turn of Atlantic to be caught unawares, a mighty GROAN!! accompanying her failed charge as she was almost upended, every inch of her stunning frame shuddering with expelled breath as her body almost crumbled. She stumbled forwards haphazardly, rocking from left to right as she took her turn to encircle an abused midriff, moaning with juddering exhales as she turned into a rough half circle, defiant even now as she was determined to remain standing.
It proved to be a moot gesture, the shouts of warning from the crowd going unheeded as she met a waiting Marvela, the brunette allowing herself a moment of satisfaction as she stuffed the difficult blondes head between her own firm thighs. She clenched, enjoying the feel of that and the involuntary jerk that ran the length of her rivals body, reaching forwards to slap the equally young woman’s sides and collect a pair of powerful arms in a double underhook.
While she perhaps seemed prepared to deliver a pedigree, Marvela considered that to be far too banal and instead opted to be generous, reminding her former fanbase just how exactly she had won the coveted World Championship of the Rumble Roses Federation. She dipped her knees and with an excited shout displayed her own might, lifting the boots of Alexis clean of the canvas and rotating the stunning brawler into a full circle high into the air as if flying the flag the defeated girl wore. At the apex she released, driving Atlantic ground wards with devastating force, the rightly feared Bombastic Bomb claiming its first victim in almost a year...
@0:45.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lVniF7hWPc&list=PLPuOyWan3CRtvAueY2CzTLJJehBWV1ver
If Alexis cried out, then to her relief it was silent, her blue eyes blank from the moment her back, shoulders and head met the canvas with a worrying CRACK of abused boards. Both bodies bounced from the impact, but clearly only one was victorious as Marvela followed through, the shapely stems of the broken blond lifeless at the knees over the brunettes tensed shoulders, pelvis pressed in possessively against buttocks as Marcille rolled up the surely unconscious Atlantic for a new pin.
The Official was there once more...
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
This time there was no doubt, and Marcille made sure as she indulgently smirked down into the defeated features of her new Rival, claiming the first scalp of their feud as she held the pin for longer than need be. Their foreheads met, as she savoured the moment, certain to make eye contact, they vacancy of the blue orbs she gazed into all the more delicious.
She finally got up, allowing Alexis to flop out of her forced ball into a limp limbed spread eagle, returning her boot to the other young woman’s chest where it belonged, stamping her foot as though planting a flag. The FAWNatics did not approve, but she most certainly did, holding her arms out high and smiling proudly, accepting the accolades that no longer existed with all of the good grace that only she, the ‘Original’ People’s Princess could summon.
If the Neanderthals in charge were going to force her to start at the bottom once more, then so be it, but while she was here then it was only right to remind everyone what it now meant to be so.
It meant to be in her kingdom.
