Post by SammieSinclair on Dec 20, 2014 19:05:31 GMT
The crowd was abuzz…pun only partially intended…over the fact that history was being made in FAWN tonight: For the first time ever outside of Japan, an Electrified Cage Match would take place! The steel cage will be continually charged with 5mA’s of current, the acceptable limit of voltage that will not produce burns or ventricular fibrillation…enough to produce a mild shock if in contact for several seconds, and increasing discomfort for longer periods. Other than this, it will be a standard cage match…meaning that to win, a wrestler will have to scale the wall of the cage and climb over the top, subjecting herself to jolting current the entire time.
“Haunted” by the Pogues pumps from the arena’s PA system as Moira Kane tears open the curtain and stalks out, raising her arms to encourage the raucous cheers of her fans.
Moira Kane
The Galwegian is decked out in a two-piece of green so dark, it almost seems black, with a gold embossed shamrock on her right buttock, and gold lamé ankle boots. She struts down the aisleway with such a cocky swagger, it blatantly suggests she isn’t the least bit worried about her opponent this evening, nor the hazards of the match itself.
She slaps a few of the many outstretched hands, and blows a kiss to one supporter who holds aloft a sign which reads in Gaelic, MOIRA…TABHAIR I NA STANGADH! Passing the extra contingent of medics standing by at ringside, she then climbs the steps up to the ring apron, then slips steps into the open door of the cage and slips between the ropes.
“Introducing first, standing five feet six inches tall, and weighing in at one-hundred and thirty-two pounds, from Galway, Ireland, she is a favoured daughter of the Emerald Isle, MOIRRRRA KAAAAAAANE!” The Irishwoman throws her arms in the air to bask in the cheers as she struts around the ring, awaiting her opponent.
With the flaxen-haired Irishwoman situated in FAWN’s Circuit Chamber, “Wildflower” by JaneDear Girls announces the next woman to place herself in harm’s way.
“Wildflower”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0IhlquYlI
Beth Jenkins
An infamous cowgirl appears and the welcome is far from welcoming. The freckled redhead is clad in her trademark attire, Arizona state flag patterned vest—small enough to leave a sliver of midsection bare—blue thong bottoms and matching chaps. Her feet are adorned in a pair of battered old cowboy boots, spurs clicking against the floor as she saunters down the aisle. A coiled lasso is attached to her hip, and sitting atop her head is a cowboy hat with a curved brim.
Ignoring the jeers and catcalls from the arena crowd, the Pale Rider strides directly and determinedly toward the squared circle and the charged chain link surrounding it. The redhead looks as though she’s headed down the Main Street of old Tombstone at high noon, keeping out of the reach of those extending for a handshake or high-five as if they’re contaminated.
As she reaches the ring, the PA makes Kane’s foe an official one.
“And her opponent...hailing from Tombstone, Arizona, standing 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing in at 124lbs…this is… BAREBACK BETH JENKINS!”
Passing the gate, the redhead walks to the announcer’s table. Beth turns in her spurs, lasso and ten-gallon for a microphone. Bareback raises the stick to her rosy lips as she walks back to the chamber door and strides up the steps. Halting just inside the entrance, she hesitates.
“Kane. You may or may not know it,” Jenkins informs, “but you are in for the shock of your life.”
The crowd groans at the pun, Beth seemingly enjoying their pain. Jenkins turns toward the FAWNatics.
“You’re all are writing me off, while those damnable Bloodwinds are riding high. Well, things change ladies and gents. And I’m going to live to see both of them under my boots without an ounce of gold within a mile of either of them.”
Bareback turns back to Moira who stifles a yawn.
“But I’m going to make a statement first, something to catch their and everyone else’s attention. And lassie, it’ll be a night you will never forget.”
Beth tosses the stick away and slides through the ropes. A FAWN flunky with heavy gloves shuts and locks the door behind Jenkins, the auburn-haired grappler taking a quick look to her rear at the sound of the CLANG before claiming the unoccupied corner opposite the blonde. Beth drops into an expectant crouch, nodding and badmouthing Moira not quite under her breath.
The words seem to get Kane’s Irish up, but she holds her ground until the CLANG of the bell. Instantly, both women circle, getting a feel for their caged environment. There is no more than a foot behind the rubber-coated steel strands and the electrified steel grating behind it, something both the eyes of Beth and Moira draw in as they cast glances to their sides before refocusing on each other.
In that instant, the women throw their bodies toward the other, coming together in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Both jockey for position and leverage and it’s an even fight for long tense seconds before Kane begins backing Beth toward the ropes.
Knowing well what lies close behind the cables, Jenkins gives up the ground grudgingly until her back is pressed tight to the strands. Slipping a forearm under Beth’s jaw, Moira pushes the crown of the auburn-haired grappler’s noggin closer to the chain link. But the squirming Bareback manages to slide to the side. The two waltz around the squared circle, each trying to swing the other into first contact with the cage.
Finally, Kane gets Beth back pedalling again, though this time the redhead has the corner behind her. Not quite as fearsome, Jenkins lets the flaxen-haired Irishwoman push her in, ready to call for a break the second her back touches corner. But as Beth’s ivory-skinned shoulders press against the top buckle, a second later, a stinging shock zaps the blue-eyed cowgirl, Jenkins yipping in pain.
Beth is shocked, quite literally, to find the top buckles have been wired with leads from the cage, each electrified in addition to the steel mesh.
It’s a pleasant surprise for Kane who keep a yelping Beth pressed tight, intermittent surges coursing through Jenkins until Moira decides to garner a bigger advantage the old-fashioned way. Switching her grip to a wrist, the Irishwoman whips Bareback toward the opposite corner and the Arizona native is sent on her horse toward the buckles.
Unable to halt her momentum, Beth crashes in back first. Her spine arches in pain not only from the force of the impact, but from another little reminder from Electrical Workers Union 482. The sting is enough for Beth to lose her concentration on the fast-arriving Kane. Moira launches from a few feet out, planning to bury the freckled Bareback under an avalanche of Irish.
But as the blonde goes airborne, Beth grabs the ropes to her right and tugs herself out of the way, leaving the multiple-time former tag champion nothing but air and wired buckle in front of her. Moira goes wide-eyed, her chest lands on the top cushioning and it takes but a second for the charge to enter.
Kane yelps as she bounces off, eyes clenched shut as she winces in pain. Moira stumbles toward centre stage, wrapping her bosom with a draping arm as she staggers. Racing from behind and beside, Beth captures Moira’s noggin in a tight side headlock. It takes but a step for her to launch and BULLDOG Kane’s face into the thinly-covered plywood.
Moira’s braincase bounces off the mat and she barrel rolls to her back next to a seated Jenkins. Blinking her hazel peepers, Moira shakes out a few cobwebs as a predatory grin emerges on the lips of the redhead.
A boot stomp to the bread basket folds Kane up and leaves her gasping, as Jenkins then gets a fistful of golden mane and yanks the Irish lass back up to her feet. Tucking Moira’s head under her right arm, the Arizonan gets a good grasp of her opponent’s briefs, dips her knees, and with a small grunt hoists the blonde up. She holds Moira perfectly vertically for a long heartbeat, then brings her back to the mat with a spine-bruising suplex. Kane arches her back in painful protest, then collapses back to the canvas.
Quickly climbing back up to her feet, Beth looks down at her dazed opponent with a knowing smirk. She then suddenly drops to her knees, using the momentum of gravity to put added impact behind the closed fist that drills right between Moira’s Irish eyes, which are most definitely not smiling afterward.
Not giving the blonde any chance at all to recover, the cowgirl subjects her adversary to three quick suplexes worthy of Wendy Smith, leaving Moira little more than a green-clad ragdoll. Now the menacing smirk returns to the cowgirl’s lips as she pulls Kane back up to her feet, wraps her arms around her waist from behind, and lifts her up.
However, rather than delivering yet another suplex, she instead charges forward, holding her squirming cargo aloft, until she reaches the corner, where she deposits Moira into the corner. Unfortunately for the blonde, that entails her groin being driven into the top turnbuckle, the attendant sending a jolting electric shock through her nether region, bringing forth a pained yelp.
Kane begins to fall, which pulls her free of the electrified turnbuckle…but her straits are no less dire, as her knees hook over the top ropes, trapping her in a Tree of Woe. As Kane tries to pull herself free, her efforts are stymied by a series of stomps to her torso, followed by a boot scrape across her eyes.
Fully satisfied with herself now, Jenkins pulls her opponent’s legs free of the ropes, letting her drop fully to the mat. Once more using her victim’s hair as her handhold, Beth hauls the dazed Irish lass up and drags her over to the ropes. Holding Moira’s hair with both hands now, Beth pushes her head over the top strand, pressing it against the cage, and raking her face back and forth across the steel mesh! Kane howls in pained protest, but offers little more in the way of resistance.
Having waited the appropriate tick on the clock, FAWN’s resident electrician sends a burst of static through the chain link and the scrubbing of Moira’s features against the cage isn’t the only pain coursing through her body as a tremor racks her frame from the alternating current.
The bolt sends both women bouncing away from the steel, each landing on her ass, though the blonde’s current-enhanced tumble leaves her in more of a daze than Bareback. The redhead wraps her legs around Moira’s midriff from behind, locking her ankles in front of Kane and pressing her thighs and calves tight. Constricting around Moira’s tummy, the body scissors forces a throaty gasp from the reeling Irishwoman, but Jenkins has more in mind.
Snaking her arms under, over, and around those of the Galway native, Beth secures a full nelson by locking her fingers behind Moira’s neck. She whips the blonde’s head from one side to another with obvious relish then shifts her booty off the mat by leaning waaay back. Keeping Moira in her lap as she launches, Beth nearly gets both sets of cheeks pointed to the rafters before sending Kane’s CRASHING down into the thinly-covered plywood with a keister bounce.
The shockwave makes an impression on both Kane’s tailbone and the look on her face and when Beth leeeans back to repeat the process, Moira’s head shakes in anxiety. THWUMP. Ass hits canvas again, Moira’s mug twisting in pain, Kane trying to reach to protect her derriere but unable, her arms still trapped in the nelson.
“ONE MORE TIME,” Bareback shouts and the crowd can’t help themselves but approve. Kane shakes her head wildly, but of course, Moira can’t deny the cowgirl and the blonde’s booty THWUMPS into the deck again even harder.
With the Irish lass mewling, Beth releases her grip and scissors, Kane’s hands shooting to her glutes to massage away the pain. As she kneads, Beth rises. The auburn-haired grappler sinks a set of nails into Moira’s scalp and rips Kane to her feet. Transferring her grip to a wrist, Jenkins aims her foe at the far buckles and heaves the Irishwoman. Moira speeds across the canvas and turns into a body-rattling collision.
The tawny blonde slinks down the corner, ending on her bruised behind, legs extended in front of her, golden locks framing her drooping noggin. Across the ring, Bareback raises her right arm and swings a mock lasso overhead before sprinting toward the downed blonde. A few feet out she takes off, legs extended in front of her. Beth’s ass finds a jarring landing on Moira’s chest and Jenkins gets about busting her bronco. Bouncing and thrusting up and down on the increasingly dumbfounded Moira, Beth racks up a full ten-spot of busting, leaving the dazed Kane a sad Irish panda.
Dismounting her filly, Beth takes a tour of the ring, finding a smattering of applause for her efforts. She raises both hands high, firing off her six-shooters before holstering them and turning her attention back to the battered Kane. Moira uses the ropes on either side of the corner to tug her way up, hopping away from leaning against the top buckle before the ever ready attendant can put some volts through her.
The tag team superstar returns her attention to the redhead in the ring when she hears the sound of canvas pounded by boots. Already halfway through her circling approach, the freckled cowgirl swings a Discus Clothesline toward Moira’s clavicle to send Kane her sputtering back to the deck once more.
DISCUS CLOTHESLINE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFe0xFSaMPM
But when Jenkins’ scythe-like arm swings toward her foe, Moira finds the senses to dip under. With Beth’s back to her after the miss, Kane is able to grab some shoulder and some hip and sends Jenkins on a bum’s rush toward the ropes and over. Beth’s forehead CRASHES into the fencing, drawing an ‘OOOOH’ from the crowd, but the bounce of skull against mesh isn’t long enough for any sparks to fly.
Looking mightily disappointed, a recovering Moira grabs a wobbly Beth by the same body parts and runs her to the opposite side of the cage. The ‘THWANK’ of head against makes some FAWNatics cringe and sends Bareback’s baby blues to crossing. This time when Beth rebounds from the collision, she’s turns into a European Uppercut from Moira that floors the cowgirl.
Kane quickly drops to her backside next to the Arizonan, only then Moira remembering to take it easy on her still aching rump. Folding her legs up next to Beth’s ribs, she rolls the bewildered redhead under the bottom rope. A cursing Jenkins grasps at the cable but gets shoved past and pressed tight to the steel mesh, Beth’s chest and pelvis making contact. And despite Jenkins’ pleas, the switchflipper does his job, passing through a burst of electrical current that gets the redhead twitching.
Delighted at the sight, the Irish blonde keeps Bareback pushed tight, ivory-skinned cowgirl on the barbie, when a second pulse courses through the yelping Jenkins, her body thrashing. The thought of knocking Beth out by electrical current might have pleasantly passed through Kane’s thoughts, but before a third charge can blast the trapped Jenkins, Moira pulls her knees in and hops to her feet, allowing Jenkins room to roll from contact with the cage and flop in under the ropes.
Moira’s quickly tugs Beth to her feet. But from nowhere, presumably the electricity providing her a little unexpected energy, Jenkins’ body tightens, muscles constricting, and she throws a clothesline at Kane’s throat. Only the second time is not the charm for the redhead, as she swings and misses again. Moira snuggles close to her foe’s hip, wrapping an arm around Beth’s midriff. Kane lifts the cowgirl high, Jenkins’ legs stretching out in front of her before the blonde turns possible suplex into a brutal faceplant, Moira BURYING Beth into the mat with a vicious backdrop Facebuster.
BACKDROP FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JgrQJgAarg
When Beth bounces to her back, Moira ends in a pinning reverse straddle atop her. It’s left to the crowd to chant...
ONE…
TWO…
... and reflexively Bareback throws a shoulder up in time.
Kane, clearly enjoying herself mid-revenge, piefaces a rising Beth back to horizontal and ascends above her foe, ending in a forward straddling stance.
“Ye really didna think yud be beatin’ a Kane een a scrap like thees, didya?” Moira queries.
When she gets no response from the dazzled redhead, Kane takes a long look at the cage. Getting up and over was going to be one damn painful climb, but one simple fact made it doable. Irish. She is. The stirring rodeo hussy at her feet isn’t.
Moira watches with a satisfied smirk as Beth slowly, cluelessly pushes first to one knee and then up the rest of the way, head bowed, legs rubbery. Before the redhead can get barely a step forward, Moira surges to her and grabs Jenkins’ braincase in a ¾ facelock over her right shoulder. The rest is practiced perfection as Kane lays out and SPIKES Beth’s face into the deck with a Celtic Cutter.
CELTIC CUTTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJaEhXtMYqc
Beth violently bounces off the canvas, barrel rolling to her back and ending in a spreadeagle next to the seated Kane.
Now, the cage REALLY called the blonde’s name. Biting a lip, she starts to push up and move toward the electrified steel that stood between her and a win.
Pushing herself up to her feet, the blonde steps toward the edge of the ring with a small but noticeable limp. She then pauses, looking the steel mesh up and down before her eyes fix on the top. With the gate latched shut, the only means of escape would be scaling the cage itself…a risky proposition under normal circumstances, but in this instance, all the more difficult.
Taking a deep breath, Moira slowly exhales it and says softly to herself, with a slightly rueful tone, “Well, nothin’ ventured, nothin’ gained.” She then climbs up the ropes, holding off as long as she can before she has no choice but to grasp the cage wall. As her fingers slip between the electrified steel mesh, she grits her teeth and narrows her eyes, fresh beads of sweat breaking out across her milky flesh as she tries to scale the wall as swiftly as she possibly can. She takes some small relief from the fact that her boots insulate her feet from the low-level current, but she still gives short, sharp gasps whenever her body draws too near to the fence, and her breasts glance against it. For once, she’s quite satisfied that her elder sister Maeve is the better-endowed of the two.
She’s really starting to feel the jolt as she advances to the top of the cage, as the muscles at the base of her neck and in her shoulders tighten, and her hands start to go numb. Still, she continues her relentless climb, knowing that victory is only moments away. Finally reaching the apex, she cautiously swings her left leg over. Unwilling to suppress a smile of supreme satisfaction, Kane looks out at the roaring crowd. It takes her a few long moments to realize that many of them are frantically waving their arms and pointing at the ring.
Looking down over her right shoulder, Kane sees a sight that gives her a start: the enraged face of Jenkins, climbing the ropes below, arms outstretched and hands grasping toward her. A second later, the Irish lass feels her opponent’s hands clasp around her ankle, then yank her toehold free of the cage. With nothing else at the moment available to support her, Moira finds gravity does its work. Most unfortunately for her, that means her crotch drops down hard onto the top bar of the cage.
Now, even in the best of circumstances, such a predicament is one of the worst things which can befall a wrestler. Compound that with the electrical current pulsing through the steel bar between her thighs, the one now pressed tight against her womanhood, which is protected…such as it is…only by the thin, sweaty fabric of her trunks, and one can only cringe in sympathy as her piercing howl of anguish slashes through the arena’s dank air.
With Beth still clutching tightly to her leg, it’s no surprise that the blonde tumbles to her side. As she falls, she collides with the rodeo queen, and both land thuddingly in a heap of tangled limbs between the ropes and the jolting cage wall. Snarled in the strands, both suffer from the parts of their bodies pressed up against the steel mesh. Finally, both are able to drag themselves free of the cables, and they collapse in exhausted heaps to the mat. There they lay, save for the shudders of their battered bodies and the heaving of their chests, no other signs of wakefulness are revealed. And with no referee within the cage, there is no twenty count to disqualification.
One minute ticks by…then two…and three. Suddenly, as if on cue, both sigh deeply and begin to stir.
With both returning to something approaching coherence, the women use each other to rise, blonde climbing up redhead and vice versa. And while the freckled cowgirl scores first with a balled fist sinking into Kane’s abs, Moira responds with a right cross that turns Bareback’s head on a swivel. Rocked by the Irishwoman’s fisticuffs, Beth staggers away in fencepost holes. Grabbing Jenkins from behind by a shoulder and some waistband, Kane bum-rushes Beth to the chain link. Moira tosses her head-first over the top, the Arizonan CLANGING against the steel.
Jenkins’ head snaps back wickedly as she ends slumped between the ropes and fence. The redhead pushes up back to the ring, keeping clear of the current, that is until Moira places a boot between Jenkins’ shoulderblades and presses her chest and face against the cage.
The arbiter waits three seconds and sends a dose of AC through the steel. Beth gurgles as the current moves through her, Jenkins trying to curse through lips pursed by the mesh.
“I’d keep ya here until ya quit, ya scragger,” Moira informs, “but dems ain’t da rules, so it’s time I be climbin’ these walls unimpeded.”
Kane relents just after the second shockwave is sent through Beth and Bareback pools on the mat where she shudders, the remnants of the electricity leaving her.
Still, when the blonde turns to walk to the opposite side of the fenced and squared circle, an arm circles around Moira’s ankle.
“Are ya kiddin’ me?” Kane asks, noticing the impediment. “Fine, let me give you a little more of da juice.”
The Galway native reaches over the cables, sinking her fingers into Beth’s scalp, yanking her up so they’re face to face. “Remember, ya asked for it, didn’ya.”
Like a bolt from the blue, Beth wraps her hands around the back of Kane’s braincase and drops to her knees, hotshotting Moira’s neck across the steel-coated cable. The blonde stumbles away, gasping and choking, hands at her own reddened throat. Meanwhile, Beth crawls through the ropes and rises.
Approaching Moira from behind, the cowgirl slides her arms under and around those of the Irishwoman, clasping her hands behind Kane’s neck in a full nelson. Before Moira can affect a counter, the nasty auburn-haired grappler rips Kane off the deck in violent fashion and SPIKES her face into the deck with her signature Sun Devil.
SUN DEVIL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAb_rWoMSmQ&feature=related
Beth hovers on all fours over the dazed blonde, Moira face down and twitching, though not from any current this time. Bareback, instead of heading to the nearest wall to climb the cage, gathers a handful of flaxen locks and hauls Moira to rubbery verticality.
Leading the dazed Kane to the nearest corner, Bareback gathers momentum as she approaches and SLAMS Moira’s head into the top buckle, the blonde’s noggin bouncing back too fast for any application of current. Beth repeats the process a full TEN times, rattling Kane’s senses if not providing a shock to the wobbly blonde.
A glassy-eyed Moira turns to face the snarling redhead, sending a misguided haymaker over a ducking Beth. Dipping below, Jenkins uses Kane’s lack of balance to sweep the former tag champ off her feet. Like a babe in her arms, Beth vaults Moira to a seat on the top buckle.
With the count to current on, and a bewildered Kane seemingly unaware, Jenkins climbs not only the corner but Moira as well. Using her foe’s shoulders as steps, the redhead balances precariously, fingers wrapping around the chain link. Beth grits her teeth as the inevitable shock courses through her system. Below her, derriere pressed tight to the buckle, the same current races through the Irishwoman’s cheeks and up and down her tailbone and spine.
Beth bites her bottom lip as the sting makes her want to release the mesh, but she refuses. Instead she keeps Moira’s butt in place like she’s cooking an Irish ham. Kane yelps in anguish as the plentiful surface area seems to send more volts through her supple frame.
After what seems like ten but is more like two seconds, Beth digs one boot into the grating and mule kicks the blonde in the back of the head with the other. Moira is sent somersaulting to the canvas, landing harshly on the deck with Jenkins already half way up the cage.
With the crowd captivated, their buzz growing with each step up, Beth yips in pain one handhold from the top as another bolt of electricity is sent through the steel. The sound seems to awaken Kane.
Turning to see Beth forcing her way through another shock and then continuing to climb, Kane stumbles to the corner and climbs after her.
The cowgirl reaches the top and swings a leg over. She raises a right hand to circle a mock lasso overhead before starting to draw the back stem over as well when she feels a tight grip on the ankle. Keeping Bareback straddled across the top of the cage, Moira forces Beth to endure another burst of voltage to her crotch, Jenkins howling in pain.
Kane has her own amps to overcome but when this round ends, she starts to climb once more while Jenkins seems frozen on her metal saddle, teary-eyed. Kane reaches the top and swings a leg over to join her foe. Seated, facing each other, Moira lays in with a right hand, but Beth comes back with one of her own. Back and forth the battle rages, Jenkins taking one sweeping right fist that nearly sends her crashing back to the canvas far below.
Somehow, the redhead regains her balance and, when her hand swings back toward Kane, it’s a thumb shooting to Moira’s left eye. Kane howls in anguish, blinded by the old school underhandedness. With the partially sightless Kane in grasping distance, the blonde’s head lowered. Beth grabs a handful of golden locks and SLAMS her face into the metal just as another surge of current courses through the cage.
While Beth endures another lightning strike to her privates, Moira’s head snaps back like it’s about to shoot out of orbit. The whiplashing braincase takes Kane’s body with it and, with the FAWNatics gasping, Moira tumbles from the heights. The blonde backflips bonelessly to the deck, landing flat on her back.
Not surprisingly, there she remains in a wide spreadeagle, motionless. With EMTs not waiting for the formality of Jenkins’ descent, the men rush to open the door to get to the electrocuted Moira. <br>
Above, Beth swings a leg over and climbs down the outside. Fearing her time is running out before the next shocker, Jenkins drops from seven feet up and lands in a jumbled heap on the floor.
Immediately, the bell signals the end of the festivities, the crowd roaring at the freckled cowgirl’s effort, even if Beth is sure to infuriate them in the near future. Raising an arm high, her chin still drooping to her chest, an exhausted and delighted Bareback listens to the official call.
“Your winner…escaping the Cage of Current…Beth Jenkins.”
While medics rouse the overcome blond inside the steel, Jenkins, who’d fallen down the lightweight ladder, climbs not only to her feet to more than a little applause, but back in the running for the upper portion of the card. Literally shocking a possible tag team FAWN Hall of Famer into a stupor had a way of making a memorable mark with matchmakers; at least as big as any branding Beth had put on any average foe’s backside.
“Haunted” by the Pogues pumps from the arena’s PA system as Moira Kane tears open the curtain and stalks out, raising her arms to encourage the raucous cheers of her fans.
Moira Kane
The Galwegian is decked out in a two-piece of green so dark, it almost seems black, with a gold embossed shamrock on her right buttock, and gold lamé ankle boots. She struts down the aisleway with such a cocky swagger, it blatantly suggests she isn’t the least bit worried about her opponent this evening, nor the hazards of the match itself.
She slaps a few of the many outstretched hands, and blows a kiss to one supporter who holds aloft a sign which reads in Gaelic, MOIRA…TABHAIR I NA STANGADH! Passing the extra contingent of medics standing by at ringside, she then climbs the steps up to the ring apron, then slips steps into the open door of the cage and slips between the ropes.
“Introducing first, standing five feet six inches tall, and weighing in at one-hundred and thirty-two pounds, from Galway, Ireland, she is a favoured daughter of the Emerald Isle, MOIRRRRA KAAAAAAANE!” The Irishwoman throws her arms in the air to bask in the cheers as she struts around the ring, awaiting her opponent.
With the flaxen-haired Irishwoman situated in FAWN’s Circuit Chamber, “Wildflower” by JaneDear Girls announces the next woman to place herself in harm’s way.
“Wildflower”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0IhlquYlI
Beth Jenkins
An infamous cowgirl appears and the welcome is far from welcoming. The freckled redhead is clad in her trademark attire, Arizona state flag patterned vest—small enough to leave a sliver of midsection bare—blue thong bottoms and matching chaps. Her feet are adorned in a pair of battered old cowboy boots, spurs clicking against the floor as she saunters down the aisle. A coiled lasso is attached to her hip, and sitting atop her head is a cowboy hat with a curved brim.
Ignoring the jeers and catcalls from the arena crowd, the Pale Rider strides directly and determinedly toward the squared circle and the charged chain link surrounding it. The redhead looks as though she’s headed down the Main Street of old Tombstone at high noon, keeping out of the reach of those extending for a handshake or high-five as if they’re contaminated.
As she reaches the ring, the PA makes Kane’s foe an official one.
“And her opponent...hailing from Tombstone, Arizona, standing 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing in at 124lbs…this is… BAREBACK BETH JENKINS!”
Passing the gate, the redhead walks to the announcer’s table. Beth turns in her spurs, lasso and ten-gallon for a microphone. Bareback raises the stick to her rosy lips as she walks back to the chamber door and strides up the steps. Halting just inside the entrance, she hesitates.
“Kane. You may or may not know it,” Jenkins informs, “but you are in for the shock of your life.”
The crowd groans at the pun, Beth seemingly enjoying their pain. Jenkins turns toward the FAWNatics.
“You’re all are writing me off, while those damnable Bloodwinds are riding high. Well, things change ladies and gents. And I’m going to live to see both of them under my boots without an ounce of gold within a mile of either of them.”
Bareback turns back to Moira who stifles a yawn.
“But I’m going to make a statement first, something to catch their and everyone else’s attention. And lassie, it’ll be a night you will never forget.”
Beth tosses the stick away and slides through the ropes. A FAWN flunky with heavy gloves shuts and locks the door behind Jenkins, the auburn-haired grappler taking a quick look to her rear at the sound of the CLANG before claiming the unoccupied corner opposite the blonde. Beth drops into an expectant crouch, nodding and badmouthing Moira not quite under her breath.
The words seem to get Kane’s Irish up, but she holds her ground until the CLANG of the bell. Instantly, both women circle, getting a feel for their caged environment. There is no more than a foot behind the rubber-coated steel strands and the electrified steel grating behind it, something both the eyes of Beth and Moira draw in as they cast glances to their sides before refocusing on each other.
In that instant, the women throw their bodies toward the other, coming together in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Both jockey for position and leverage and it’s an even fight for long tense seconds before Kane begins backing Beth toward the ropes.
Knowing well what lies close behind the cables, Jenkins gives up the ground grudgingly until her back is pressed tight to the strands. Slipping a forearm under Beth’s jaw, Moira pushes the crown of the auburn-haired grappler’s noggin closer to the chain link. But the squirming Bareback manages to slide to the side. The two waltz around the squared circle, each trying to swing the other into first contact with the cage.
Finally, Kane gets Beth back pedalling again, though this time the redhead has the corner behind her. Not quite as fearsome, Jenkins lets the flaxen-haired Irishwoman push her in, ready to call for a break the second her back touches corner. But as Beth’s ivory-skinned shoulders press against the top buckle, a second later, a stinging shock zaps the blue-eyed cowgirl, Jenkins yipping in pain.
Beth is shocked, quite literally, to find the top buckles have been wired with leads from the cage, each electrified in addition to the steel mesh.
It’s a pleasant surprise for Kane who keep a yelping Beth pressed tight, intermittent surges coursing through Jenkins until Moira decides to garner a bigger advantage the old-fashioned way. Switching her grip to a wrist, the Irishwoman whips Bareback toward the opposite corner and the Arizona native is sent on her horse toward the buckles.
Unable to halt her momentum, Beth crashes in back first. Her spine arches in pain not only from the force of the impact, but from another little reminder from Electrical Workers Union 482. The sting is enough for Beth to lose her concentration on the fast-arriving Kane. Moira launches from a few feet out, planning to bury the freckled Bareback under an avalanche of Irish.
But as the blonde goes airborne, Beth grabs the ropes to her right and tugs herself out of the way, leaving the multiple-time former tag champion nothing but air and wired buckle in front of her. Moira goes wide-eyed, her chest lands on the top cushioning and it takes but a second for the charge to enter.
Kane yelps as she bounces off, eyes clenched shut as she winces in pain. Moira stumbles toward centre stage, wrapping her bosom with a draping arm as she staggers. Racing from behind and beside, Beth captures Moira’s noggin in a tight side headlock. It takes but a step for her to launch and BULLDOG Kane’s face into the thinly-covered plywood.
Moira’s braincase bounces off the mat and she barrel rolls to her back next to a seated Jenkins. Blinking her hazel peepers, Moira shakes out a few cobwebs as a predatory grin emerges on the lips of the redhead.
A boot stomp to the bread basket folds Kane up and leaves her gasping, as Jenkins then gets a fistful of golden mane and yanks the Irish lass back up to her feet. Tucking Moira’s head under her right arm, the Arizonan gets a good grasp of her opponent’s briefs, dips her knees, and with a small grunt hoists the blonde up. She holds Moira perfectly vertically for a long heartbeat, then brings her back to the mat with a spine-bruising suplex. Kane arches her back in painful protest, then collapses back to the canvas.
Quickly climbing back up to her feet, Beth looks down at her dazed opponent with a knowing smirk. She then suddenly drops to her knees, using the momentum of gravity to put added impact behind the closed fist that drills right between Moira’s Irish eyes, which are most definitely not smiling afterward.
Not giving the blonde any chance at all to recover, the cowgirl subjects her adversary to three quick suplexes worthy of Wendy Smith, leaving Moira little more than a green-clad ragdoll. Now the menacing smirk returns to the cowgirl’s lips as she pulls Kane back up to her feet, wraps her arms around her waist from behind, and lifts her up.
However, rather than delivering yet another suplex, she instead charges forward, holding her squirming cargo aloft, until she reaches the corner, where she deposits Moira into the corner. Unfortunately for the blonde, that entails her groin being driven into the top turnbuckle, the attendant sending a jolting electric shock through her nether region, bringing forth a pained yelp.
Kane begins to fall, which pulls her free of the electrified turnbuckle…but her straits are no less dire, as her knees hook over the top ropes, trapping her in a Tree of Woe. As Kane tries to pull herself free, her efforts are stymied by a series of stomps to her torso, followed by a boot scrape across her eyes.
Fully satisfied with herself now, Jenkins pulls her opponent’s legs free of the ropes, letting her drop fully to the mat. Once more using her victim’s hair as her handhold, Beth hauls the dazed Irish lass up and drags her over to the ropes. Holding Moira’s hair with both hands now, Beth pushes her head over the top strand, pressing it against the cage, and raking her face back and forth across the steel mesh! Kane howls in pained protest, but offers little more in the way of resistance.
Having waited the appropriate tick on the clock, FAWN’s resident electrician sends a burst of static through the chain link and the scrubbing of Moira’s features against the cage isn’t the only pain coursing through her body as a tremor racks her frame from the alternating current.
The bolt sends both women bouncing away from the steel, each landing on her ass, though the blonde’s current-enhanced tumble leaves her in more of a daze than Bareback. The redhead wraps her legs around Moira’s midriff from behind, locking her ankles in front of Kane and pressing her thighs and calves tight. Constricting around Moira’s tummy, the body scissors forces a throaty gasp from the reeling Irishwoman, but Jenkins has more in mind.
Snaking her arms under, over, and around those of the Galway native, Beth secures a full nelson by locking her fingers behind Moira’s neck. She whips the blonde’s head from one side to another with obvious relish then shifts her booty off the mat by leaning waaay back. Keeping Moira in her lap as she launches, Beth nearly gets both sets of cheeks pointed to the rafters before sending Kane’s CRASHING down into the thinly-covered plywood with a keister bounce.
The shockwave makes an impression on both Kane’s tailbone and the look on her face and when Beth leeeans back to repeat the process, Moira’s head shakes in anxiety. THWUMP. Ass hits canvas again, Moira’s mug twisting in pain, Kane trying to reach to protect her derriere but unable, her arms still trapped in the nelson.
“ONE MORE TIME,” Bareback shouts and the crowd can’t help themselves but approve. Kane shakes her head wildly, but of course, Moira can’t deny the cowgirl and the blonde’s booty THWUMPS into the deck again even harder.
With the Irish lass mewling, Beth releases her grip and scissors, Kane’s hands shooting to her glutes to massage away the pain. As she kneads, Beth rises. The auburn-haired grappler sinks a set of nails into Moira’s scalp and rips Kane to her feet. Transferring her grip to a wrist, Jenkins aims her foe at the far buckles and heaves the Irishwoman. Moira speeds across the canvas and turns into a body-rattling collision.
The tawny blonde slinks down the corner, ending on her bruised behind, legs extended in front of her, golden locks framing her drooping noggin. Across the ring, Bareback raises her right arm and swings a mock lasso overhead before sprinting toward the downed blonde. A few feet out she takes off, legs extended in front of her. Beth’s ass finds a jarring landing on Moira’s chest and Jenkins gets about busting her bronco. Bouncing and thrusting up and down on the increasingly dumbfounded Moira, Beth racks up a full ten-spot of busting, leaving the dazed Kane a sad Irish panda.
Dismounting her filly, Beth takes a tour of the ring, finding a smattering of applause for her efforts. She raises both hands high, firing off her six-shooters before holstering them and turning her attention back to the battered Kane. Moira uses the ropes on either side of the corner to tug her way up, hopping away from leaning against the top buckle before the ever ready attendant can put some volts through her.
The tag team superstar returns her attention to the redhead in the ring when she hears the sound of canvas pounded by boots. Already halfway through her circling approach, the freckled cowgirl swings a Discus Clothesline toward Moira’s clavicle to send Kane her sputtering back to the deck once more.
DISCUS CLOTHESLINE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFe0xFSaMPM
But when Jenkins’ scythe-like arm swings toward her foe, Moira finds the senses to dip under. With Beth’s back to her after the miss, Kane is able to grab some shoulder and some hip and sends Jenkins on a bum’s rush toward the ropes and over. Beth’s forehead CRASHES into the fencing, drawing an ‘OOOOH’ from the crowd, but the bounce of skull against mesh isn’t long enough for any sparks to fly.
Looking mightily disappointed, a recovering Moira grabs a wobbly Beth by the same body parts and runs her to the opposite side of the cage. The ‘THWANK’ of head against makes some FAWNatics cringe and sends Bareback’s baby blues to crossing. This time when Beth rebounds from the collision, she’s turns into a European Uppercut from Moira that floors the cowgirl.
Kane quickly drops to her backside next to the Arizonan, only then Moira remembering to take it easy on her still aching rump. Folding her legs up next to Beth’s ribs, she rolls the bewildered redhead under the bottom rope. A cursing Jenkins grasps at the cable but gets shoved past and pressed tight to the steel mesh, Beth’s chest and pelvis making contact. And despite Jenkins’ pleas, the switchflipper does his job, passing through a burst of electrical current that gets the redhead twitching.
Delighted at the sight, the Irish blonde keeps Bareback pushed tight, ivory-skinned cowgirl on the barbie, when a second pulse courses through the yelping Jenkins, her body thrashing. The thought of knocking Beth out by electrical current might have pleasantly passed through Kane’s thoughts, but before a third charge can blast the trapped Jenkins, Moira pulls her knees in and hops to her feet, allowing Jenkins room to roll from contact with the cage and flop in under the ropes.
Moira’s quickly tugs Beth to her feet. But from nowhere, presumably the electricity providing her a little unexpected energy, Jenkins’ body tightens, muscles constricting, and she throws a clothesline at Kane’s throat. Only the second time is not the charm for the redhead, as she swings and misses again. Moira snuggles close to her foe’s hip, wrapping an arm around Beth’s midriff. Kane lifts the cowgirl high, Jenkins’ legs stretching out in front of her before the blonde turns possible suplex into a brutal faceplant, Moira BURYING Beth into the mat with a vicious backdrop Facebuster.
BACKDROP FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JgrQJgAarg
When Beth bounces to her back, Moira ends in a pinning reverse straddle atop her. It’s left to the crowd to chant...
ONE…
TWO…
... and reflexively Bareback throws a shoulder up in time.
Kane, clearly enjoying herself mid-revenge, piefaces a rising Beth back to horizontal and ascends above her foe, ending in a forward straddling stance.
“Ye really didna think yud be beatin’ a Kane een a scrap like thees, didya?” Moira queries.
When she gets no response from the dazzled redhead, Kane takes a long look at the cage. Getting up and over was going to be one damn painful climb, but one simple fact made it doable. Irish. She is. The stirring rodeo hussy at her feet isn’t.
Moira watches with a satisfied smirk as Beth slowly, cluelessly pushes first to one knee and then up the rest of the way, head bowed, legs rubbery. Before the redhead can get barely a step forward, Moira surges to her and grabs Jenkins’ braincase in a ¾ facelock over her right shoulder. The rest is practiced perfection as Kane lays out and SPIKES Beth’s face into the deck with a Celtic Cutter.
CELTIC CUTTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJaEhXtMYqc
Beth violently bounces off the canvas, barrel rolling to her back and ending in a spreadeagle next to the seated Kane.
Now, the cage REALLY called the blonde’s name. Biting a lip, she starts to push up and move toward the electrified steel that stood between her and a win.
Pushing herself up to her feet, the blonde steps toward the edge of the ring with a small but noticeable limp. She then pauses, looking the steel mesh up and down before her eyes fix on the top. With the gate latched shut, the only means of escape would be scaling the cage itself…a risky proposition under normal circumstances, but in this instance, all the more difficult.
Taking a deep breath, Moira slowly exhales it and says softly to herself, with a slightly rueful tone, “Well, nothin’ ventured, nothin’ gained.” She then climbs up the ropes, holding off as long as she can before she has no choice but to grasp the cage wall. As her fingers slip between the electrified steel mesh, she grits her teeth and narrows her eyes, fresh beads of sweat breaking out across her milky flesh as she tries to scale the wall as swiftly as she possibly can. She takes some small relief from the fact that her boots insulate her feet from the low-level current, but she still gives short, sharp gasps whenever her body draws too near to the fence, and her breasts glance against it. For once, she’s quite satisfied that her elder sister Maeve is the better-endowed of the two.
She’s really starting to feel the jolt as she advances to the top of the cage, as the muscles at the base of her neck and in her shoulders tighten, and her hands start to go numb. Still, she continues her relentless climb, knowing that victory is only moments away. Finally reaching the apex, she cautiously swings her left leg over. Unwilling to suppress a smile of supreme satisfaction, Kane looks out at the roaring crowd. It takes her a few long moments to realize that many of them are frantically waving their arms and pointing at the ring.
Looking down over her right shoulder, Kane sees a sight that gives her a start: the enraged face of Jenkins, climbing the ropes below, arms outstretched and hands grasping toward her. A second later, the Irish lass feels her opponent’s hands clasp around her ankle, then yank her toehold free of the cage. With nothing else at the moment available to support her, Moira finds gravity does its work. Most unfortunately for her, that means her crotch drops down hard onto the top bar of the cage.
Now, even in the best of circumstances, such a predicament is one of the worst things which can befall a wrestler. Compound that with the electrical current pulsing through the steel bar between her thighs, the one now pressed tight against her womanhood, which is protected…such as it is…only by the thin, sweaty fabric of her trunks, and one can only cringe in sympathy as her piercing howl of anguish slashes through the arena’s dank air.
With Beth still clutching tightly to her leg, it’s no surprise that the blonde tumbles to her side. As she falls, she collides with the rodeo queen, and both land thuddingly in a heap of tangled limbs between the ropes and the jolting cage wall. Snarled in the strands, both suffer from the parts of their bodies pressed up against the steel mesh. Finally, both are able to drag themselves free of the cables, and they collapse in exhausted heaps to the mat. There they lay, save for the shudders of their battered bodies and the heaving of their chests, no other signs of wakefulness are revealed. And with no referee within the cage, there is no twenty count to disqualification.
One minute ticks by…then two…and three. Suddenly, as if on cue, both sigh deeply and begin to stir.
With both returning to something approaching coherence, the women use each other to rise, blonde climbing up redhead and vice versa. And while the freckled cowgirl scores first with a balled fist sinking into Kane’s abs, Moira responds with a right cross that turns Bareback’s head on a swivel. Rocked by the Irishwoman’s fisticuffs, Beth staggers away in fencepost holes. Grabbing Jenkins from behind by a shoulder and some waistband, Kane bum-rushes Beth to the chain link. Moira tosses her head-first over the top, the Arizonan CLANGING against the steel.
Jenkins’ head snaps back wickedly as she ends slumped between the ropes and fence. The redhead pushes up back to the ring, keeping clear of the current, that is until Moira places a boot between Jenkins’ shoulderblades and presses her chest and face against the cage.
The arbiter waits three seconds and sends a dose of AC through the steel. Beth gurgles as the current moves through her, Jenkins trying to curse through lips pursed by the mesh.
“I’d keep ya here until ya quit, ya scragger,” Moira informs, “but dems ain’t da rules, so it’s time I be climbin’ these walls unimpeded.”
Kane relents just after the second shockwave is sent through Beth and Bareback pools on the mat where she shudders, the remnants of the electricity leaving her.
Still, when the blonde turns to walk to the opposite side of the fenced and squared circle, an arm circles around Moira’s ankle.
“Are ya kiddin’ me?” Kane asks, noticing the impediment. “Fine, let me give you a little more of da juice.”
The Galway native reaches over the cables, sinking her fingers into Beth’s scalp, yanking her up so they’re face to face. “Remember, ya asked for it, didn’ya.”
Like a bolt from the blue, Beth wraps her hands around the back of Kane’s braincase and drops to her knees, hotshotting Moira’s neck across the steel-coated cable. The blonde stumbles away, gasping and choking, hands at her own reddened throat. Meanwhile, Beth crawls through the ropes and rises.
Approaching Moira from behind, the cowgirl slides her arms under and around those of the Irishwoman, clasping her hands behind Kane’s neck in a full nelson. Before Moira can affect a counter, the nasty auburn-haired grappler rips Kane off the deck in violent fashion and SPIKES her face into the deck with her signature Sun Devil.
SUN DEVIL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAb_rWoMSmQ&feature=related
Beth hovers on all fours over the dazed blonde, Moira face down and twitching, though not from any current this time. Bareback, instead of heading to the nearest wall to climb the cage, gathers a handful of flaxen locks and hauls Moira to rubbery verticality.
Leading the dazed Kane to the nearest corner, Bareback gathers momentum as she approaches and SLAMS Moira’s head into the top buckle, the blonde’s noggin bouncing back too fast for any application of current. Beth repeats the process a full TEN times, rattling Kane’s senses if not providing a shock to the wobbly blonde.
A glassy-eyed Moira turns to face the snarling redhead, sending a misguided haymaker over a ducking Beth. Dipping below, Jenkins uses Kane’s lack of balance to sweep the former tag champ off her feet. Like a babe in her arms, Beth vaults Moira to a seat on the top buckle.
With the count to current on, and a bewildered Kane seemingly unaware, Jenkins climbs not only the corner but Moira as well. Using her foe’s shoulders as steps, the redhead balances precariously, fingers wrapping around the chain link. Beth grits her teeth as the inevitable shock courses through her system. Below her, derriere pressed tight to the buckle, the same current races through the Irishwoman’s cheeks and up and down her tailbone and spine.
Beth bites her bottom lip as the sting makes her want to release the mesh, but she refuses. Instead she keeps Moira’s butt in place like she’s cooking an Irish ham. Kane yelps in anguish as the plentiful surface area seems to send more volts through her supple frame.
After what seems like ten but is more like two seconds, Beth digs one boot into the grating and mule kicks the blonde in the back of the head with the other. Moira is sent somersaulting to the canvas, landing harshly on the deck with Jenkins already half way up the cage.
With the crowd captivated, their buzz growing with each step up, Beth yips in pain one handhold from the top as another bolt of electricity is sent through the steel. The sound seems to awaken Kane.
Turning to see Beth forcing her way through another shock and then continuing to climb, Kane stumbles to the corner and climbs after her.
The cowgirl reaches the top and swings a leg over. She raises a right hand to circle a mock lasso overhead before starting to draw the back stem over as well when she feels a tight grip on the ankle. Keeping Bareback straddled across the top of the cage, Moira forces Beth to endure another burst of voltage to her crotch, Jenkins howling in pain.
Kane has her own amps to overcome but when this round ends, she starts to climb once more while Jenkins seems frozen on her metal saddle, teary-eyed. Kane reaches the top and swings a leg over to join her foe. Seated, facing each other, Moira lays in with a right hand, but Beth comes back with one of her own. Back and forth the battle rages, Jenkins taking one sweeping right fist that nearly sends her crashing back to the canvas far below.
Somehow, the redhead regains her balance and, when her hand swings back toward Kane, it’s a thumb shooting to Moira’s left eye. Kane howls in anguish, blinded by the old school underhandedness. With the partially sightless Kane in grasping distance, the blonde’s head lowered. Beth grabs a handful of golden locks and SLAMS her face into the metal just as another surge of current courses through the cage.
While Beth endures another lightning strike to her privates, Moira’s head snaps back like it’s about to shoot out of orbit. The whiplashing braincase takes Kane’s body with it and, with the FAWNatics gasping, Moira tumbles from the heights. The blonde backflips bonelessly to the deck, landing flat on her back.
Not surprisingly, there she remains in a wide spreadeagle, motionless. With EMTs not waiting for the formality of Jenkins’ descent, the men rush to open the door to get to the electrocuted Moira. <br>
Above, Beth swings a leg over and climbs down the outside. Fearing her time is running out before the next shocker, Jenkins drops from seven feet up and lands in a jumbled heap on the floor.
Immediately, the bell signals the end of the festivities, the crowd roaring at the freckled cowgirl’s effort, even if Beth is sure to infuriate them in the near future. Raising an arm high, her chin still drooping to her chest, an exhausted and delighted Bareback listens to the official call.
“Your winner…escaping the Cage of Current…Beth Jenkins.”
While medics rouse the overcome blond inside the steel, Jenkins, who’d fallen down the lightweight ladder, climbs not only to her feet to more than a little applause, but back in the running for the upper portion of the card. Literally shocking a possible tag team FAWN Hall of Famer into a stupor had a way of making a memorable mark with matchmakers; at least as big as any branding Beth had put on any average foe’s backside.