Post by SammieSinclair on Dec 20, 2014 19:08:44 GMT
The crowd had settled into a constant buzz from their earlier state of noisy revelry, but they had little time to rest as they were hit by a Halestorm, namely the stylish thumping beat of that band’s smashing hit ‘I Get Off’.
I GET OFF:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=naIT6XfsjAw&ob=av2e
CASSIDY WOOLRIDGE:
Looking fierce and flawless, to be honest well beyond the level of wrestling success she’d achieved, particularly as of late, Chicago’s North Shore Narcissist burned bright under the spotlight while drawing the unadulterated ire of the crowd. The emotion of the assembled crystallizes on contact when seeing the snotty sorority sister.
Clad in a seductively small and strategically situated zebra print twist-tie bikini with white pads and boots, the Alpha Bitch of the Kappa Delts reviewed Orlando’s great unwashed with a sneer. Her FAWN career inert on the house show circuit, the despicable Chi-town cheater looked determined to make someone pay tonight and gain a jump start back to perpetual pay-per-view status.
With the blonde soaking the hate, not bothering to shake it off, she started down the aisle to the sound of the stupid Announcer telling everyone what they already knew.
“Ladies and gentlemen tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. First, from Chicago, Illinois, standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds, she is the Windy City Wildcat…CASSIDY WOOLRIDGE!”
Cass, who barely scraped in under the lightweight limit, scoffed and snorted her way down from the stage, screaming at anyone with the gall to try and touch her, each and every one of them to be treated as some freshman turd.
Finally, she spotted someone with a placard complimentary of the North Shore Hottie, ‘Cassidy makes the Second City first!’.
The flaxen-haired lovely raised a hand for a high-five only to draw it back with a laugh when the man attempted to tag his heroine.
“Moron. Like I’d touch you!” Woolridge shouted, laughing at the disillusioned admirer. “Support me or don’t. I don’t fuckin care. Either way you’re still not laying a hand on the best piece of ass this place has to offer.”
Reaching the ring steps, the Chicagoan let her crystal blue eyes wander through the arena. Not hiding her contempt for everyone and everything, she strode up and slid through the ropes. The blonde set herself mid-ring and spread her arms wide, then moved her fingers to her shoulders and trailed them down her slinky, ivory frame, the crowd transfixed enough to relent in their catcalls, if only for a moment, zebra stripes never looking so alluring.
Cassidy spun on her heels and moved to the ropes nearest the entrance, nose in the air, a slight shake of her head.
“Get your ass out here, rookie. And take your damn beating.”
Woolridge’s mouth was still going a mile a minute when the FAWN’tron flickered from glorious HD to a ghostly black & white. For viewers at home, the whole arena underwent the same chromatic bleaching. Alongside this grayscale scheme came a decidedly modern combination of guitar and drums, the thrumming beat that heralded Social Distortion’s ‘Machine Gun Blues’. Shortly thereafter the Magnificent Moll strode through the curtain.
MACHINE GUN BLUES:
VERONICA TREYMANE:
Dressed in a half length (it ended about mid-thigh) grey trench coat and matching fedora, Veronica Treymane broke into a knowing smile when the sold out crowd roared ’SHOW US THE HEAT!’ She tapped a finger to one ear. “What was that?” ‘SHOW US THE HEAT!’ came at her even louder than before. “All right, you asked for it.” Veronica whipped open the coat with her free hand and raised the replica Thompson sub machinegun to the rafters. “ALL EYES ON ME, YOUSE MUGS!” she called. “THIS SCORE’S GOIN’ DOWN RIGHT NOW!” Displaying a technique worthy of any noir-era femme fatale, Veronica squeezed the trigger and swept it back ‘n forth to rake the air with a blistering line of pyro that did a damned good job imitating real artillery. When the clip was exhausted Treymane raised it to her lips, blew smoke off the barrel and started her way toward the squared circle.
Granted permission to resume his duties only when the Thompson was done talking, the Announcer said, “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Bridgeport California, she stands at five feet eight inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-four pounds. She is the Neo-Noir Knockout… VERONICA TREYMANE!”
With the blonde moving fast and the coat flapping out in her wake, the FAWN faithful got a much better view of her ring attire. Tonight she sported boy-cut trunks in grey with white pinstripes and topped with a sturdy white belt. The top was a matching one-third length bustier with small buttons running up the centre and white edging atop the cups. These halves were connected thin white suspenders, while her pads at knee and elbow were charcoal grey. The outfit was finished with matte-black boots that rose to mid-shin.
Pausing for the occasional ‘Wanted Poster’ with her growing fan base, Treymane made her way down the aisle, then went left at the end and headed up the steel steps where she placed a hand on the brim of her fedora. Headgear properly secured, the Dangerous Dame slipped through the ropes and strode to the official to whom she handed her firepower. She shrugged the trench coat loose immediately thereafter and draped it over his arm. “You know the drill, Shamus. Put it somewhere Solis can’t threaten the smarks.”
Merle sighed. “I’m never gonna hear the end of that, am I?”
“No you will not.” Veronica answered with a grin. She would’ve offered her wrists, elbows and knees right then and there, but Cassidy had stomped to the centre of the ring to better direct the flood of her trash talk straight at the other blonde. “Looks like you’ll have to check me out over there, stripes. I’ve got a Daisy that needs tending.” More than ready to do a little emphatic weeding, she stepped out for her first face to face with the North Shore Narcissist.
Cassidy’s steady tirade of trash talk had softened to a poisonous murmur during Merle’s last minute instructions but once the ref stepped back and the bell CLANGED it hit full volume at once. “Remind me again how some… THING like you is polluting my wrestling ring.” she sneered. “All I hear from the internet trolls and the fatass smarks is how you’re supposed to be the great babyface future of this company. Well I’m standing closer to you than they ever will and you want to know what I see?”
Veronica arched one eyebrow ever so slightly. “Do telLLLNNNGGHHH!”
Woolridge brought a hand up, pressed it against the other blonde’s cheek and shoved straight forward, twisting Treymane’s neck at a sharp angle with an ‘Oh no she din’t!’ worthy pie face. Most would’ve paused to savor the look on their opponent’s face, but not Cassidy Woolridge. She stormed into the breach at once, her lips less than half an inch from Veronica’s ear, one index finger jabbing into the Neo-Noir Knockout’s chest to punctuate every word. “Don’t fucking talk to me, frosh, In fact, don’t even fucking LOOK at me unless you have my express permis--”
CRAAACK!
Veronica stepped away and belted Cassidy across the cheek with a scintillating backhand. Unlike her foe, Treymane did indeed take a moment to admire her handiwork; she especially liked the knuckle-shaped welt blossoming on the other blonde’s fair skin. “Sure you don’t want me to talk, Daisy?” she said when Cassidy fixed her with a gaze that could’ve broiled steel. “Looks to me like you won’t be able to handle much of the strong OOOOFFFFHH!”
Woolridge came in low and fast, slamming a shoulder into Treymane’s navel. Gripping her upper thighs, Cassidy muscled her burden a few feet off the mat, then dove forward and down, driving Veronica into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a heavy THWHUMP! Enraged by the very idea that Treymane would lay a hand on her; the Wildcat mounted the prone blonde, grabbed a double handful of hair and yanked her head up at a sharp angle. Soon as it was up she BWUNKED it back down, Woolridge electing blunt force trauma over finesse with the basketball-esque bouncing.
“YOU THINK YOU CAN (BWUNK!) BYTCH SLAP ME (BWUNK!) AND LIVE? (BWUNK!) WHO THE FUCK (BWUNK!) DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? (BWUNK!) YOU’RE NOTHING, (BWUNK!) THAT’S WHO YOU ARE!” (BWUNK!)
Cassidy stopped the bludgeoning, yanked Veronica’s aching noggin off the mat once more and leaned in so they were almost nose to nose. “You’re nothing, frosh. And by the time you realize it you’ll be begging to clean my boots with your tonNNNNGGHHHHH!”
Treymane slammed a short Headbutt between Woolridge’s eyes, knocking the aggrieved aggressor back on her haunches. Still pinned under Cassidy’s lissom bulk, the Pinstripe Powerhouse sat up as best she could, grabbed a huge handful of flaxen locks and slammed her to the right, thus THWUMPING the side of her attacker’s skull into the canvas. Cass rolled onto her stomach and instinctively cradled her head in both hands, so Treymane scrambled onto the small of her tush and promptly raaaaaaaaaaaked her fingers down the Sorority Sadist’s back.
“This tooth and claw catfight nonsense isn’t really my scene, Daisy.” Veronica admitted after putting even more weight behind the second rake. “But if that’s how you want it, I’ll play along.”
As proof of her willingness to do so she pressed both palms into the back of Woolridge’s head and made a great show of mussing her hair before she helped herself to a double handful and scrubbed her yowling features back n’ forth across the canvas. Cassidy kicked and squirmed, her talons lashing dangerously close to Treymane’s face yet never actually finding their target. This abuse continued unabated for perhaps five seconds, so Merle stepped in and ordered, “All right, get her face off the mat. Don’t make me ask twice, Veronica.”
Treymane stopped scrubbin’, but didn’t remove her hands from Woolridge’s locks. Instead she flashed the zebra a wink. “Whatever you say, copper.” Then she planted her feet flat and CRAAAAANKED up on Cassidy’s head in a modified Camel Clutch that probably hurt the Chicagoan’s scalp more than it did her neck or shoulders.
Wailing in pain and rage, Woolridge wrapped her hands around the other blonde’s wrists and dug in with her nails, perfectly happy to draw blood as long as it got her out of the hellish hold. “LEGGO!” she bellowed. “BYTCH, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE STARTING RIGHT OOOFFHH!”
Veronica tossed her head aside when Merle reached ‘FOUR’ on his count, then stood up and made a point of planting a boot on Cassidy’s backside as she stepped away. The North Shore Narcissist was up almost at once and she spent perhaps a heartbeat or two smoothing out her battle-frayed hair. Both hands were already crooked into claws by the time Veronica said, “You’re looking a little shabby there, Daisy. Maybe we should try an actual wrestling match? Yeah you’ll lose, but maybe you won’t be squalling like a brat when I NNNGGHHHRRRRAAAAAHHH!”
Cassidy pounced and slammed those claws of hers into the sturdy slope of Treymane’s chest. Squeezing and pushing with equal ferocity, Woolridge quickly backed Veronica into the nearest corner and kept right on shoving even after the Dangerous Dame had nowhere to go. “I can see you’re not afraid of me.” Cassidy snarled through gritted teeth as she mauled opposing rack. “That’s good, I like it when they start out with a little pride, it--” she twisted her head to the side when Treymane snagged a hold of her hair, then twisted again and bit down on the intruding digits. Veronica squealed then let go almost at once so Woolridge spat her out and kept at it. “Yeah, I like the ones who feel strong at the start. Makes it so much more satisfying when they’re on their knees sobbing for OOOWW YOU BYTCH!”
Increasingly aware that she was in a very different kind of fight against this particular Hellcat, Veronica busted out a technique she hasn’t used since that party in her senior year when Gratia Thane tried to slap her out by Calvin’s pool. She latched onto Cassidy’s nubs through the thin armour of her zebra-print lyrca and TWISTED like she was searching for a radio station on the other side of the dial.
The fire in her own bounty died down for a moment and Treymane used the reprieve to shove her way out of the buckles. Soon as she had a little clearance the Pinstripe Powerhouse transitioned into a far more traditional Side Headlock, albeit one applied with the same roughhousing intensity of her previous offense. Trapping Cassidy’s noggin in the triangle of her forearm, bicep and left breast, Treymane stuffed her left hip into the pit of Woolridge’s stomach, then jerked her up n’ over and rode her all the way to the mat with a BOOMING Headlock Takedown.
Not about to relinquish her grip on the Sorority Sadist, Veronica made sure to angle Cass’s face so her mouth and nose were pressed tight against the swell of her breast, effectively transforming the Headlock into a Smother. “Made a big mistake running your yap to me, Daisy.” Treymane muttered between long constrictions. “Should’ve just stayed on the penthouse carpets, that’s the only place your nasty shit is worth any AAAAAHHHH FAAAAAHHHK!”
Woolridge bit into the encroaching jugg and didn’t let go until Veronica broke the Headlock and pounded a few desperate shots into the side of her skull. Stepping between the blondes as they rose, Merle extended a hand in both directions. “That’s it! Enough of this biting and hair pulling shyt or I’ll call it right now! Understood?”
Veronica didn’t say anything but Cassidy shook her head ‘no’ at once. Spinning away from them both, she stormed over to the edge of the ring to call for a mic, which was hastily provided. “No, I don’t understand, asshole! You say no biting and no hair pulling? I say fahk you, that’s how I fight! I say I’m down for Penthouse Rules if Turner Classic Movies over there thinks she’s tuff enough!”
“Explain.” Treymane growled.
Cassidy started to scoff, so Merle held up a finger to keep her quiet. “No disqualifications as long as you don’t leave the ring.” he said. “Pins are to the count of five and can’t be broken by rope breaks. Submission holds cannot be broken by reaching the ropes, save for chokeholds like Sleepers. Basically the only thing you can’t do is claw your opponent’s eyes out.”
Veronica offered Cassidy a hard smile. “And here I thought there were no rules. That’s how you want it, Daisy? Fine. You got it.”
Treymane barely got the words out of her mouth when a boot from Northwestern’s most notorious sorority sister flashed in the blink of an eye, plunging into the midriff of the Pinstripe Putz. Doubled, her deep brown eyes bulging, Treymane gasped while Woolridge collected Veronica’s noggin in a tight Side Headlock.
“You’re right for once,” Cass chuckled. “I got it.”
With her left arm wrapping close, the Wildcat balled her right hand into a fist and buried it into Treymane’s forehead one, two, three times, the third sending a wobble through the blonde noob’s stems.
Spreading her right set of digits wide, Cassidy turned in her fist for a curled claw and raked the fingers across Veronica’s eyes one, two, three times.
“Kidding, girlfriend,” Woolridge chirped as the blinded blonde howls in pain. “You can claw your opponent’s eyes out too.”
The queen of Satan’s sorority released her Headlock and shoved a sightless Veronica away disdainfully, raising both arms to the unhappy attendees. Cassidy turned and measured the staggering Treymane and, when the Pinstripe Powerhouse stopped to wipe her tear-filled peepers, Woolridge split her foe’s wickets from behind with a punt to the privates. Veronica’s jaw dropped as quickly as her toes rose to their tips. Pulling her right boot from between Veronica’s thighs, Woolridge placed the sole on the ass of the brown-eyed girl and shoved forward, Ronnie falling to her knees, hands buried between.
“So how many people understand how stupid this girl is, accepting Penthouse Rules with me?” the Chicago native shouted .
More than a few hands shot up, not including Cassidy’s, and when Woolridge got close enough to Treymane, she tugged one of Veronica’s hands away from its tending and raised it high as well.
A growly Veronica tugged the limb away from the green-eyed monster so Cass yanked the rookie up by her scalp instead. Knees still knocking, the blonde seemed frozen as the Sorority Queen ducked and scooped an arm between her foe’s legs, lifting the bigger woman off the deck and onto a shoulder. But instead of slamming Veronica to the deck, Cassidy dropped to one knee and spiked Treymane’s tummy across the raised version, busting Veronica’s gut.
It took but a second for Cassidy to begin her signature Hazing. Pushing down on the back of Veronica’s head with one hand, Woolridge fashioned the other into a paddle and sent Treymane through an old fashioned spanking machine before dumping the tyro into a pile at her feet.
“See,” Cassidy chided, “where you went wrong was not asking for Outhouse Rules. I ‘d imagine you’re a LOT more used to those.”
With Veronica on hands and knees in front of her, still swaddling her midsection with one arm, Cassidy hauled the Capone wannabe to vertical, exchanging her grip for a wrist. She sent Treymane on her horse, Veronica careening across the canvas before turning and CRASHING into the buckles with enough force to unhinge her legs and leave her seated on the mat, legs extended.
The sight was a red flag for Woolridge who immediately sprinted across the canvas seemingly ready to bust a bronco. But as she reached the target she slowed. Instead, she turned in a 180 and STUFFED her pert little bubble backside into Veronica’s mug, swabbing Treymane‘s face in a filthy figure-8 that had no doubt seen more than its fair share of grinding out in the clubs on Division Street.
Getting her fill of the Stink Face and then some, a sputtering Veronica pressed her palms against Cassidy’s thighs and tried to shove her away, but with no leverage, Woolridge scrubbed away at her leisure the stripe-shirted, fun-hater silenced under the new rules of the fight.
With her hips growing weary, Cassidy turned and stuck an index finger into the chest of her opponent.
“You haven’t even seen the penthouse yet, bytchyaaaOOWWW.”
The Pinstripe Powerhouse, having snatched Woolridge’s finger, bent it back as she rose in front of the Chicago coed and she continued sending the digit in a direction it wasn’t meant to go until Cass was on her knees.
But before she could break it or more likely convert the grip into some other form of payback, Woolridge looped an Uppercut with her free arm between the rookie’s thighs, this time a forearm smashing into the undercarriage of Treymane, halting any momentum the Pinstripe Powerhouse was hoping to find.
With the grip on Cassidy’s pointer instantly gone, Veronica dropped to her knees, features twisted in agony. The blondes knelt in front of each other. But while Treymane looked petrified, Cassidy turned her hands into two sets of talons and SANK them into the thinly-sheathed bosom of her fellow blonde
Squeezing for all she’s worth, flexing and digging in her nails, Cass drew a series of pained yips from her foe that grew louder and more sustained when Cassidy draws Veronica to her feet by the handholds on her rival’s breasts.
“Is the explanation sinking in now,” Cass purred, “or is it just my nails?”
Woolridge launched Veronica into a front flip in a mammarific version of a Hip Toss. Treymane ended on her booty, the landing sending a shockwave up and down the rookie’s spine. And when the Wildcat followed it up with a Soccer Kick to the backbone, Veronica’s vertebrae arched in pain, the Pinstriped One’s pursed lips bursting open.
After the boot, the Sorority Queen took a victory lap, goading the jeering FAWNatics and loving every second of having the hapless noob trapped in her playground. By the time Woolridge made it back to Treymane, the bigger blonde was on her feet, but still unaware of Cass’ location. Leaping from behind like a green-eyed feline, Cassidy wrapped an arm around Veronica’s throat and laid out, ripping Treymane off her feet and POUNDING her into the deck with her signature Sorority Row.
SORORITY ROW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOYLrSI0K7U
Woolridge gleefully floated over to a lateral press, hooking a leg and Merle slid down beside the flaxen-haired beauties, slapping the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Reflexively shoving a shoulder off before the THREE, Veronica saved her pride, though she still had two additional seconds to save the match under the Penthouse Rules.
“Makes the night a little longer,” Cassidy admitted to her foe, knowing she didn’t get all that close to the clincher, “but a three second pin, five seconds, ten seconds? It isn’t going to matter when I make you whimper and scream I QUIT. Problem is, I’m not going to stop until you beg to be sent back to Bangor. A verbal contract to send you back to the bushes. Because that’s where bytches like you belong.”
Treymane snorted derisively, a sound Woolridge wasn’t used to hearing out of a chick who’d had her ass kicked from pillar to post for the last few minutes. “Lemme tell you something, Daisy.” she muttered while struggling to her knees. “There’s girls in Bangor that would eat your punk ass aliVERRRGGHHH!”
Not about to take that shyt from some wannabe pledge, Cassidy plunged her hands into Veronica’s hair and slammed her face against the mat for several seconds of overenthusiastic scrubbing. Calling it to a halt only when the other blonde’s keening got to be too much for her ears to take, Woolridge stood up, forced the vulnerable tyro to all fours and reeled her into a Standing Headscissors. “While this fat ass certainly makes for a great set of bongos,” the Wildcat proved it by CLAPPING both hands against Veronica’s glutes, “I wouldn’t want to be accused of infringing on Lisa’s gimmick, especially not with the mood she’s been in lately. Guess that means I’ll have to find some other way to make you suffer.”
Her solution wasn’t long in coming, as she curled her fingers under the bottom edges of Treymane’s pinstriped briefs and yaaaaaaaaaaaanked more than enough to bare a good three quarters of her foe’s bum. “Oh yeah, I know it hurts, sweetie,” Cass yanked the material back n’ forth, sawing it into opposing undercarriage, “but don’t worry. This hurts more.” Bending her knees slightly, Woolridge jerked up and back, using nothing more than the stretchy briefs to try and hoist the Neo-Noir Knockout into place for a Piledriver.
Treymane’s togs did exactly what they were supposed to do, alas the woman wearing them proved far less cooperative. Legs kicking furiously, Veronica forced Cassidy to return her to the canvas, a blessed relief despite her newly-minted thong. Disgusted, Woolridge bore down on the Headscissors and gave the wedgie another violent side to side tug. “Bytch, if these things tear before I drop you on your head I swear you’re gonna eat WHOOOOAAHHHH!”
Able to capitalize on her strength advantage for what felt like the first time tonight, Veronica gripped her foe just above and behind the knees, then straightened up so that the Sorority Sadist was draped down her back like the world’s meanest cape. This shift in alignment made Woolridge forget all about the wedgie, as she was suddenly far more interested in getting loose before the rookie bytch could try whatever it was she had in mind. “Set me down right now frosh or I swear you’ll WHOOAANNNNGGHHH!” Veronica snapped her prey up n’ over and sat out, adding her own momentum to the already powerful descent that THWHAMMED Cassidy spine-first into the mat.
SIT-OUT ALABAMA SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMQKpMgwui8
Jolted hard by the powerful impact, Woolridge cradled the back of her head in both hands and would’ve turned onto her side if Treymane hadn’t maintained control of her ankles. For a moment Veronica considered trying for a pin, but then she remembered the extended count and the savage glee Woolridge had taken in humiliating her since the bell began. “All right sister, you wanna fight like an alley cat, that’s how we’ll fight. Just don’t come crying to me when you hafta sing like a canary.”
Scooting back from the prone blonde without letting loose of her boots, Veronica pulled her right leg up, wedged that foot into the fork of Cass’s thighs and pushed forward while simultaneously wrenching back on those captured ankles. No disrespect to Woolridge’s singing voice, but the note she produced in the seconds immediately following the Wishbone were less beautiful canary song and far more wet cat trapped in a burlap sack.
Sat up straight by the merciless grinding against her centre, Cassidy grabbed Veronica’s ankle with both hands and when that didn’t work she leaned forward as best she could and sank her talons into Treymane’s thigh. “Leggo right now, fucker.” the Wildcat snarled through clenched teeth. “If I have to tell you twice it’ll be so much worse for NNNNNNGGHHH FAAAHHHK!”
Veronica did indeed remove her foot from Woolridge’s groin, but only so she could THWHUMP it with a short, brutal Mule Kick. The resultant spasm wrenched her feet loose of the other blonde’s clutches; unfortunately she couldn’t do much more than flop onto her stomach and fold in around her throbbing crotch. Veronica stood up and eyed the scene with some satisfaction, though her smirk curdled into a snarl when she oh so gingerly plucked her distended togs back to the factory preset.
Sighing with relief once the job was done, Treymane started forward, then drew back as a thought crossed her mind. “This job wasn’t supposed to be personal, Daisy. But when a no class tramp threatens to make me beg for mercy, I tend to take it very personally.” As if tone of voice wasn’t proof enough, the Pinstripe Powerhouse suddenly charged her foe, hopped into the air and raised her right knee to chest level. Planting that foot against Woolridge’s upturned tush, Veronica stamped down with all her weight to THWHAM Cass’s hips into the mat. As Curbstomps went it wasn’t nearly effective as those delivered to the back of the neck, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant and spoke volumes as to the level of respect Treymane had for her adversary.
Unprepared for the attack on her haunches, Woolridge grunted unpleasantly, rolled a short distance clear and pushed to her knees amidst peals of laughter from the FAWNatics. Green eyes tossing sparks in the wake of what she saw as an unforgivable humiliation, Cassidy raked hair off her face and snarled, “Bytch, you have no idea who you’re screwing with.”
Veronica kept a safe distance; though she raised a hand and beckoned the North Shore Narcissist join her. “I know exactly who you are. You’re the mouthy Daisy with my boot tread tattooing her ass. You’re right about one thing though. I wouldn’t screw you for all the gold in Fort Knox.”
Snarling her hate, Cassidy Woolridge sprang to vertical and raced at Treymane with her claws poised to slash and rend. The Dangerous Dame held her ground ‘til the last moment, then snatched hold of her foe’s left wrist in both hands and twisted around on her six. Wedging Woolridge’s hand between her shoulders with a Hammerlock, Veronica kept it secured with one hand so she could slip under Cass’s right arm and come out squeaky clean on the other side. A Kneelift THWHUMPED between Woolridge’s thighs wasn’t actually necessary for Veronica’s plans but it did her heart good and it did double the savage slut over that much faster. With the Hammerlock still in place, Treymane caught Cassidy’s head in a Front Facelock, then bent her knees and hoisted the lissome lovely directly overhead. Veronica let her hang there just long enough to think about it, then kicked a leg forward and laid out on her back to THWHAM Woolridge down full force atop her pinioned arm.
HAMMERLOCK SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=08aFCME7qLI
Cassidy bounced to a seat and pulled her injured wing tight to her chest only to snarl her displeasure when Treymane snatched her by the elbow and pulled her arm back. Veronica repeated the tactic with her other arm, then very quickly wedged Woolridge’s forearms into the pits of her knees, effectively allowing the Neo-Noir Knockout to use the vice of her thighs and calves to keep Cass’s claws out of the equation.
“What’d you say you were going to do to me?” Veronica leaned in over one shoulder and pressed her cheek to Woolridge’s, a not so subtle reminder of the control she exerted. “Oh that’s right! You were going to make me whimper. Make me quit. Make me beg to go back to Bangor.”
Cassidy jerked hard, but it only sent a painful jolt through her shoulders. “That’s right, bytch. Don’t get too comfortable, because that’s coming real soon.”
Veronica nodded, then whispered. “So, was that before or after I showed your tits to the world?”
The Wildcat went stone still. “Do it and you’re dead. Don’t test me OOOHHH YOU FAHKING BYTCH!”
Treymane yanked her opponent’s top down to thunderous cheers which only grew louder when she cupped her hands over Cassidy’s breasts and squeezed until her knuckles turned white.
The official started to scold the Pinstripe Powerhouse but held his powder, realizing Veronica’s cattiness was par for the course under the rules of engagement. And for the next several seconds, Cassidy looked terribly upset she’d ever thought about the Penthouse, howling as Treymane ripped into her chest, digging and kneading. The Sorority Queen tried to break her arms free, but they remained pinned to her back by Veronica’s mass.
Squirming and writhing, Woolridge yelped out a loud ‘NO’ when the official asked if she wanted to surrender, paying a heavy price to have the Neo Noir Knockout relent, and Treymane treated Cass to a flex of her digits in retribution that drew an agonized howl.
“Maybe YOU should head to Maine, sweetheart,” Veronica informed before giving one more twisting tug for the road and then releasing.
Cassidy reflexively dropped to her chest, hands tucked underneath, cupping the ravaged bosom and keeping it out of range as Treymane circled above, landing the occasional boot to the ribs or shoulders when the Chicagoan tried to rise. Finally, Treymane sauntered to a corner behind the flustered and furious Wildcat.
“Here kitty, kitty,” Veronica called to her fellow blonde as Cassidy rose, her hands falling away from her reddened, bare breasts. “What would make you feel at home, kitty?” Treymane asked.
Responding to sound rather than content, the wincing Woolridge spun to face off against her foe and lived to regret it when Veronica surged toward her in a cyclone–esque spin. Treymane lifted a big boot that collided violently with Cassidy’s chin. The Windy City native knocked into a wicked pirouette by the kick, Veronica’s ‘Chicago Lightning’ sending Cass screwing herself into the deck and landing in a heap akin to a drunken Indian-style seat.
CHICAGO LIGHTNING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vN3jJgwDcXU
The head of the gobsmacked beauty bobbled like a doll of the same name, but somehow the catty Chitown native remained on her cheeks and not her side. Not hesitating, Veronica hauled the dazed catfighter to her feet. From Cassidy’s side, Veronica stepped a leg over that of Woolridge and stretched her tall sturdy frame horizontally across the brat’s back. Slipping her upper body under Cassidy’s far arm while she made the opposite limb her Pumphandle, Treymane had her mewling foe ready for launch
“Nuhhohh,” the Sorority Queen pleaded softly. Woolridge was drowned out by the delighted FAWNatics who prepared to watch Cassidy’s ‘Journey Into Fear’.
Veronica vaulted the slighter grappler off the deck with practiced ease, scooping her foe as high as her shoulders. Treymane genuflected and nearly broke Cassidy in two with the force of her Backbreaker.
JOURNEY INTO FEAR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-2mVWZigWA
Before Veronica could keep the Windy City Wildcat stretched across her knee, the boneless Cassidy spilled to the deck. The rookie mounts her in a forward-facing straddle of the waist and hooked her hands into curled talons, both sinking them into Cassidy’s exposed plums while also pressing her flat for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Woolridge shrieked and threw a shoulder up.
A startled Veronica shrugged as she released her tear-inducing handholds.
“Frankly, I expected less,” she announced, “but there are plenty more shots in my Tommy.”
Veronica hauled a battered Cass to her feet, the smaller blonde looking very small indeed, not to mention quiet. With the wrist of Woolridge in her control, Veronica bent it back, wrapping the arm around Cassidy’s throat, ready to knock the Chicagoan into next week with her signature ‘Kiss Me Deadly’.
But playing to the Penthouse crowd for a second or two came back to bite the Neo Noir Knockout when, before she could launch and break Cassidy’s flawless face, the ferocious Wildcat reappeared with a Kneelift that parted Veronica’s thighs. Treymane jolted onto tiptoes, her grip on Woolridge falling away immediately.
Slumped and seemingly frozen, her brown eyes bugging, the Pinstripe Powerhouse was unable to react as her topless foe gasped her way to recovery while grasping Treymane’s pinstriped top. Cass slips her fingers underneath then ripped the buttons out down the middle, separating the covering. Veronica’s gurls released, Woolridge maintained her grip on one side of the split garment and swung Veronica through a full 360 to finally relieve her of the garment. Running to the ropes, Cassidy threw it to Souvenirland and returned her gaze to the bigger blonde.
Drawing close from Veronica’s six, Cassidy bared her talons and scraped them from shoulders to ass, leaving ten long red welts down the entirety of her foe’s back. Veronica squealed in pain, her spine arching in agony. But Cass wasn’t done. Using her nails, she makes a new set across the expanse from side to side, leaving a set of redlined boxes in a pattern. Again, Treymane howled, this time stumbling forward as her vertebrae curved beneath the stinging scratches.
When Veronica made the mistake of leaning against a set of ropes facing the crowd, Cassidy was there from behind, forcing the throat of the Pinstripe Powerhouse down across the rubber-coated steel. As Treymane’s face grew rosy, her eyes bugging, Cassidy just leans in harder, knowing no count was coming.
“Are you starting to understand you cosplaying bush leaguer? This is my penthouse…MINE!”
The Sorority Queen relented, but only to turn the bigger blonde 45 degrees. Cassidy scooped her foe off the deck with an arm behind Veronica’s legs and another behind her back. Sending her high, for could’ve been a Side Suplex, Cassidy instead hoisted Veronica back down on her feet, or would have if Treymane’s crotch hadn’t met the top rope and prevented the Knockout’s boot leather from reaching the canvas.
With a wincing, mewling Pinstriper pressing her hands against the cable, trying to relieve some of the pressure on her undercarriage, Cassidy grabbed the strand on either side of Veronica and rammed the cable up and down, thrusting it higher between Treymane’s thighs, Veronica taking a most unwelcome ride courtesy the Windy City Kitty.
“Now,” Woolridge shouted in the yelping Veronica’s ear, “why don’t you tell me how much you like that maple syrup up North.”
Cass rammed the rubber-coated steel HIGH.
“TELL ME!”
Alas, that was a demand Veronica couldn’t honour even if she wanted to (which she didn’t). With the top rope digging deep into her undercarriage she was reduced to little more than a hapless cowgirl strapped to the back of a bucking bronc, one’s who’s machinations were controlled entirely by Cassidy Woolridge.
Suddenly determined to be the first woman in FAWN history to ever win with such a tactic, the North Shore Wildcat set her feet and jerked up all the harder, digging deep into her reserves to saw Treymane in half from the bottom up. “GO ON, BYTCH!” she shrieked to the yowling blonde. “BEG FOR MERCY AND MAYBE I’LL LET YOU GO BEFORE NNNNGGHH!”
Veronica locked her ankles beneath the middle rope not because it alleviated the pain, but to keep herself from falling off when she let go of the ropes and clouted her rival across the cheek with an impromptu Polish Hammer. Stumbling back a few steps, Woolridge cleared her head quickly enough and returned with a vengeance. She feigned another grab for the ropes and when Treymane tried to intercept her Cass snatched hold of her hair instead and jerked down hard, thus trapping her prey into a Tree of Woe that was as unpleasant as it was awkward. “You’re gonna scream my name, new meat.” Woolridge hissed at the trapped battler. “Scream it so loud these idiots will hear it right up until the time the ambulance doors swing shut.”
This ominous threat was met with more mindless mewling, so Cassidy rounded on one heel and ran to the other side of the ring. Returning with a respectable head of steam, the Sorority Queen dove into a perfect Baseball Slide which itself transformed into Low Dropkick that THWHACKED her heels into Treymane’s chin. The Dangerous Dame’s legs finally slipped loose of the top rope and hit the canvas in an ungainly pratfall that did nothing for her already breathless state.
FROSH SQUASH @ 00:47
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXZ9h8_s1lc
Though Veronica looked as defenceless as anyone could remember, Cassidy didn’t attempt a cover. Rather she buried her hands in Treymane’s sweat-soaked hair and hauled her to boot-leather. Said verticality grew all the more tenuous when Woolridge landed another Kneelift, this one just above the navel. Bent over double by the almost Low Blow, she couldn’t stop Woolridge from reeling her into a Standing Headscissors. “Should’ve peeled these off ten minutes ago.” Cassidy said of Veronica’s bottoms, of which she’d helped herself to a large double handful. “Glad I didn’t, though. They’re actually proving quite useful.” To prove it she ripped Treymane off her feet with a heartless wedgie and sat out as soon as the other blonde was upside down, the crown of Veronica’s skull THWHUNKING against the canvas with nauseating force.
WEDGIE ASSISTED PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohinUBX5k_E
All languid smiles and bedroom eyes after the wedgie-assisted Piledriver left Treymane pooled out in a starfish, Cassidy climbed into a high, knee-splayed Front Face Sit, one that brought the centre of her trunks into grinding, humiliating contact with her prey’s muzzle. Teasing Treymane’s tits simply because she could, Woolridge timed her tweaks and plucks to coincide with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVOOOOOOOO!
Cassidy exploded to her feet with a wail of furious pain, the reason for which the FAWNatics didn’t pinpoint until they saw the North Shore Narcissist’s right hand pressed tight to a spot on the inside of her left thigh. “SLUTTY BYTCH!” Woolridge shrieked at the slowly rising blonde. “STAND UP SO I CAN FEED YOU YOUR FACE!”
Veronica did exactly that in spite of the fan’s warnings. Even in her current condition she wouldn’t turn down a challenge from the likes of Cassidy Woolridge. Noble and foolish in equal measure, the Neo-Noir Knockout’s own grit and determination made it that much easier for the other blonde to plot her next move. Stalking off to Treymane’s left, Cass drew a bead on her opponent’s temple, then wheeled around and ran the ropes once more. Veronica was still doubled over when she came back so Woolridge straightened her up with a THWHAPPING Kneelift, the first half of a brutal Two For One Ladies Night Special. Knocked up on her toes by the blow, Treymane swung around in a drunken circle, seemingly unaware of Cassidy’s journey to the opposite side of the ring and the Clothesline she brought back with her.
But ‘seemingly’ was a very dangerous word, as everyone in the FAWN arena was reminded when the Pinstripe Powerhouse lunged out of her stupor and caught Woolridge flush on the chin with a straight right hand. Stopped in her tracks by the jab, Cass was too stunned to react much when Veronica lit up her cheek with a left handed Bytch Slap, though her legs shimmied dangerously after the bigger blonde, palmed the back of her head and jerked her down into a THWHONKING Kneelift. Hands dropped limp at her sides, Woolridge could only stand there and watch as Treymane spun around in a tight little circle and came out the other side with a Discus Lariat that THWHAMMED across her clavicle.
DRIVE BY NIGHT FLURRY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ueSykZ920dg
Both ladies went down in the wake of the Drive By Night Flurry, however Woolridge was the only one who landed on her back, so Veronica draped an arm across her chest for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVOOOOOOOO!
Cassidy slung Veronica’s arm aside and rolled onto her stomach, where she collected herself for several seconds before struggling to her feet. “That’s it.” she growled low in the back of her throat. “That is fucking it. Time you got a real taste of the Penthouse, bytch.” Right hand curled into a vicious ‘C’ Cass slunk around in front of the other blonde, her claw trailing in mystic passes that would surely grow far more focused the instant Treymane regained her feet. Sure enough, Veronica stood up and Cassidy lashed out, the latter earning a piercing sob from the former courtesy of the Crotch Claw. “GIVE IT UP!” The Wildcat bellowed into her foe’s pain-crimped face. “GIVE IT UP OR I’LL STRIP YOU DOWN TO BOOTS AND PADSSEEERGGGGHHHH!”
Treymane laced her hands across the back of Cass’s neck and twisted her head sharply toward her left shoulder. Bearing down on Woolridge’s neck even as the Sorority Queen mauled her centre, Veronica set her feet, jostled her hips from side to side and almost sobbed with relief when Cassidy abandoned her grip to fight the Cravate. Desperate to remove the catfighter’s vertical base, Treymane dipped her knees and yanked up, forcing Woolridge to hop up and lace her legs around opposing waist. Even in those dire straits Cassidy’s legs proved sadistically strong so rather than endure them a moment longer the Pinstripe Powerhouse lurched around in a ragged circle, rocked back on her heels and dropped to her tush. The Maltese Noose snapped taut with a soft thump, then Cassidy’s head whiplashed up n’ down at a velocity often reserved for minor car accidents. Laid flat on her back by the brutal drop, Woolridge moaned softly when Veronica pushed her ankles up over her head, then slid forward and sat down on those upturned haunches in an exhausted Matchbook. There was no question of Cassidy’s shoulders being down, so Merle slapped off…
MALTESE NOOSE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3amQS-IQFLc
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVE!
The bell sounded and Veronica slopped forward onto her tummy, where she stayed all through the Announcer’s confirmation. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… VERONICA TREYMANE!”
Treymane rolled onto her back and started to raise an arm, only for the ref to take her by the wrist and return her to boot-leather for a proper victory pose. Vaguely aware that Merle was situated in front of her and not beside, Veronica groaned, “What’s the hapse, Shamus? Since when have you taken to bodyguarding?”
“Since you lost your top.” he replied. “You want a tee-shirt, Veronica? There’s always a stash ringside.”
Thusly reminded of her partial nudity, Treymane placed an arm over her chest, then stepped aside and looked down at the prone Wildcat. “Tee-shirts aren’t really my style. Trophies and trade-offs though. That’s speaking my language.” Brushing past the official, she trudged over to a patch of canvas empty save for Cassidy’s shorn top. With the scale properly balanced, she walked back to Cass, placed a foot on her fluttering tummy and raised both hands high for the Gladiatrix money shot. She was about to thank the fans for their support when a change in their tone turned Treymane’s attention to the top of the stage.
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
The formerly empty space just this side of the curtains was now occupied by a tall, bronzed-skinned brunette in a slinky black dress with gold shoulderpads and an equally shimmery crescent cut high atop her left thigh. Booing vociferously the instant they identified Alexis Suguitan, the crowd soon channeled its vitriol into a ‘YOU SUCK!’ chant powerful enough to rival any of those directed at her mentor, one Portia Ophelia VanBuren. But neither Alexis or Veronica paid the chant any mind, as they were too busy eying one another, the brunette regarding the blonde with a mildly impressed smile that the victor returned as a sort of wary curiosity.
Alexis said something then and though noise and distance were too far for her to hear it outright, the FAWN’tron had blown Suguitan up something huge and Treymane had no problem reading her lips.
‘Not bad. Keep it up, Ronnie.’
Displeased by the idea that she’d drawn the attention of the Associates, Veronica walked to the ropes and shouted, “Did she send you?” Alexis only waved and flitted through the curtain. “What the hell, Rachel?” Treymane muttered under her breath, her voice totally free of the gun moll inflection she used whenever the cameras were rolling. “If you wanted to talk, all you had to do was ask.”
Brushing the incident aside after a moment’s pause, she set out on a circuit of the posts, mounting each one to make sure everyone got a good glimpse of Cassidy’s top and the guns that’d taken her down.
I GET OFF:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=naIT6XfsjAw&ob=av2e
CASSIDY WOOLRIDGE:
Looking fierce and flawless, to be honest well beyond the level of wrestling success she’d achieved, particularly as of late, Chicago’s North Shore Narcissist burned bright under the spotlight while drawing the unadulterated ire of the crowd. The emotion of the assembled crystallizes on contact when seeing the snotty sorority sister.
Clad in a seductively small and strategically situated zebra print twist-tie bikini with white pads and boots, the Alpha Bitch of the Kappa Delts reviewed Orlando’s great unwashed with a sneer. Her FAWN career inert on the house show circuit, the despicable Chi-town cheater looked determined to make someone pay tonight and gain a jump start back to perpetual pay-per-view status.
With the blonde soaking the hate, not bothering to shake it off, she started down the aisle to the sound of the stupid Announcer telling everyone what they already knew.
“Ladies and gentlemen tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. First, from Chicago, Illinois, standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds, she is the Windy City Wildcat…CASSIDY WOOLRIDGE!”
Cass, who barely scraped in under the lightweight limit, scoffed and snorted her way down from the stage, screaming at anyone with the gall to try and touch her, each and every one of them to be treated as some freshman turd.
Finally, she spotted someone with a placard complimentary of the North Shore Hottie, ‘Cassidy makes the Second City first!’.
The flaxen-haired lovely raised a hand for a high-five only to draw it back with a laugh when the man attempted to tag his heroine.
“Moron. Like I’d touch you!” Woolridge shouted, laughing at the disillusioned admirer. “Support me or don’t. I don’t fuckin care. Either way you’re still not laying a hand on the best piece of ass this place has to offer.”
Reaching the ring steps, the Chicagoan let her crystal blue eyes wander through the arena. Not hiding her contempt for everyone and everything, she strode up and slid through the ropes. The blonde set herself mid-ring and spread her arms wide, then moved her fingers to her shoulders and trailed them down her slinky, ivory frame, the crowd transfixed enough to relent in their catcalls, if only for a moment, zebra stripes never looking so alluring.
Cassidy spun on her heels and moved to the ropes nearest the entrance, nose in the air, a slight shake of her head.
“Get your ass out here, rookie. And take your damn beating.”
Woolridge’s mouth was still going a mile a minute when the FAWN’tron flickered from glorious HD to a ghostly black & white. For viewers at home, the whole arena underwent the same chromatic bleaching. Alongside this grayscale scheme came a decidedly modern combination of guitar and drums, the thrumming beat that heralded Social Distortion’s ‘Machine Gun Blues’. Shortly thereafter the Magnificent Moll strode through the curtain.
MACHINE GUN BLUES:
VERONICA TREYMANE:
Dressed in a half length (it ended about mid-thigh) grey trench coat and matching fedora, Veronica Treymane broke into a knowing smile when the sold out crowd roared ’SHOW US THE HEAT!’ She tapped a finger to one ear. “What was that?” ‘SHOW US THE HEAT!’ came at her even louder than before. “All right, you asked for it.” Veronica whipped open the coat with her free hand and raised the replica Thompson sub machinegun to the rafters. “ALL EYES ON ME, YOUSE MUGS!” she called. “THIS SCORE’S GOIN’ DOWN RIGHT NOW!” Displaying a technique worthy of any noir-era femme fatale, Veronica squeezed the trigger and swept it back ‘n forth to rake the air with a blistering line of pyro that did a damned good job imitating real artillery. When the clip was exhausted Treymane raised it to her lips, blew smoke off the barrel and started her way toward the squared circle.
Granted permission to resume his duties only when the Thompson was done talking, the Announcer said, “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Bridgeport California, she stands at five feet eight inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-four pounds. She is the Neo-Noir Knockout… VERONICA TREYMANE!”
With the blonde moving fast and the coat flapping out in her wake, the FAWN faithful got a much better view of her ring attire. Tonight she sported boy-cut trunks in grey with white pinstripes and topped with a sturdy white belt. The top was a matching one-third length bustier with small buttons running up the centre and white edging atop the cups. These halves were connected thin white suspenders, while her pads at knee and elbow were charcoal grey. The outfit was finished with matte-black boots that rose to mid-shin.
Pausing for the occasional ‘Wanted Poster’ with her growing fan base, Treymane made her way down the aisle, then went left at the end and headed up the steel steps where she placed a hand on the brim of her fedora. Headgear properly secured, the Dangerous Dame slipped through the ropes and strode to the official to whom she handed her firepower. She shrugged the trench coat loose immediately thereafter and draped it over his arm. “You know the drill, Shamus. Put it somewhere Solis can’t threaten the smarks.”
Merle sighed. “I’m never gonna hear the end of that, am I?”
“No you will not.” Veronica answered with a grin. She would’ve offered her wrists, elbows and knees right then and there, but Cassidy had stomped to the centre of the ring to better direct the flood of her trash talk straight at the other blonde. “Looks like you’ll have to check me out over there, stripes. I’ve got a Daisy that needs tending.” More than ready to do a little emphatic weeding, she stepped out for her first face to face with the North Shore Narcissist.
Cassidy’s steady tirade of trash talk had softened to a poisonous murmur during Merle’s last minute instructions but once the ref stepped back and the bell CLANGED it hit full volume at once. “Remind me again how some… THING like you is polluting my wrestling ring.” she sneered. “All I hear from the internet trolls and the fatass smarks is how you’re supposed to be the great babyface future of this company. Well I’m standing closer to you than they ever will and you want to know what I see?”
Veronica arched one eyebrow ever so slightly. “Do telLLLNNNGGHHH!”
Woolridge brought a hand up, pressed it against the other blonde’s cheek and shoved straight forward, twisting Treymane’s neck at a sharp angle with an ‘Oh no she din’t!’ worthy pie face. Most would’ve paused to savor the look on their opponent’s face, but not Cassidy Woolridge. She stormed into the breach at once, her lips less than half an inch from Veronica’s ear, one index finger jabbing into the Neo-Noir Knockout’s chest to punctuate every word. “Don’t fucking talk to me, frosh, In fact, don’t even fucking LOOK at me unless you have my express permis--”
CRAAACK!
Veronica stepped away and belted Cassidy across the cheek with a scintillating backhand. Unlike her foe, Treymane did indeed take a moment to admire her handiwork; she especially liked the knuckle-shaped welt blossoming on the other blonde’s fair skin. “Sure you don’t want me to talk, Daisy?” she said when Cassidy fixed her with a gaze that could’ve broiled steel. “Looks to me like you won’t be able to handle much of the strong OOOOFFFFHH!”
Woolridge came in low and fast, slamming a shoulder into Treymane’s navel. Gripping her upper thighs, Cassidy muscled her burden a few feet off the mat, then dove forward and down, driving Veronica into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a heavy THWHUMP! Enraged by the very idea that Treymane would lay a hand on her; the Wildcat mounted the prone blonde, grabbed a double handful of hair and yanked her head up at a sharp angle. Soon as it was up she BWUNKED it back down, Woolridge electing blunt force trauma over finesse with the basketball-esque bouncing.
“YOU THINK YOU CAN (BWUNK!) BYTCH SLAP ME (BWUNK!) AND LIVE? (BWUNK!) WHO THE FUCK (BWUNK!) DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? (BWUNK!) YOU’RE NOTHING, (BWUNK!) THAT’S WHO YOU ARE!” (BWUNK!)
Cassidy stopped the bludgeoning, yanked Veronica’s aching noggin off the mat once more and leaned in so they were almost nose to nose. “You’re nothing, frosh. And by the time you realize it you’ll be begging to clean my boots with your tonNNNNGGHHHHH!”
Treymane slammed a short Headbutt between Woolridge’s eyes, knocking the aggrieved aggressor back on her haunches. Still pinned under Cassidy’s lissom bulk, the Pinstripe Powerhouse sat up as best she could, grabbed a huge handful of flaxen locks and slammed her to the right, thus THWUMPING the side of her attacker’s skull into the canvas. Cass rolled onto her stomach and instinctively cradled her head in both hands, so Treymane scrambled onto the small of her tush and promptly raaaaaaaaaaaked her fingers down the Sorority Sadist’s back.
“This tooth and claw catfight nonsense isn’t really my scene, Daisy.” Veronica admitted after putting even more weight behind the second rake. “But if that’s how you want it, I’ll play along.”
As proof of her willingness to do so she pressed both palms into the back of Woolridge’s head and made a great show of mussing her hair before she helped herself to a double handful and scrubbed her yowling features back n’ forth across the canvas. Cassidy kicked and squirmed, her talons lashing dangerously close to Treymane’s face yet never actually finding their target. This abuse continued unabated for perhaps five seconds, so Merle stepped in and ordered, “All right, get her face off the mat. Don’t make me ask twice, Veronica.”
Treymane stopped scrubbin’, but didn’t remove her hands from Woolridge’s locks. Instead she flashed the zebra a wink. “Whatever you say, copper.” Then she planted her feet flat and CRAAAAANKED up on Cassidy’s head in a modified Camel Clutch that probably hurt the Chicagoan’s scalp more than it did her neck or shoulders.
Wailing in pain and rage, Woolridge wrapped her hands around the other blonde’s wrists and dug in with her nails, perfectly happy to draw blood as long as it got her out of the hellish hold. “LEGGO!” she bellowed. “BYTCH, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE STARTING RIGHT OOOFFHH!”
Veronica tossed her head aside when Merle reached ‘FOUR’ on his count, then stood up and made a point of planting a boot on Cassidy’s backside as she stepped away. The North Shore Narcissist was up almost at once and she spent perhaps a heartbeat or two smoothing out her battle-frayed hair. Both hands were already crooked into claws by the time Veronica said, “You’re looking a little shabby there, Daisy. Maybe we should try an actual wrestling match? Yeah you’ll lose, but maybe you won’t be squalling like a brat when I NNNGGHHHRRRRAAAAAHHH!”
Cassidy pounced and slammed those claws of hers into the sturdy slope of Treymane’s chest. Squeezing and pushing with equal ferocity, Woolridge quickly backed Veronica into the nearest corner and kept right on shoving even after the Dangerous Dame had nowhere to go. “I can see you’re not afraid of me.” Cassidy snarled through gritted teeth as she mauled opposing rack. “That’s good, I like it when they start out with a little pride, it--” she twisted her head to the side when Treymane snagged a hold of her hair, then twisted again and bit down on the intruding digits. Veronica squealed then let go almost at once so Woolridge spat her out and kept at it. “Yeah, I like the ones who feel strong at the start. Makes it so much more satisfying when they’re on their knees sobbing for OOOWW YOU BYTCH!”
Increasingly aware that she was in a very different kind of fight against this particular Hellcat, Veronica busted out a technique she hasn’t used since that party in her senior year when Gratia Thane tried to slap her out by Calvin’s pool. She latched onto Cassidy’s nubs through the thin armour of her zebra-print lyrca and TWISTED like she was searching for a radio station on the other side of the dial.
The fire in her own bounty died down for a moment and Treymane used the reprieve to shove her way out of the buckles. Soon as she had a little clearance the Pinstripe Powerhouse transitioned into a far more traditional Side Headlock, albeit one applied with the same roughhousing intensity of her previous offense. Trapping Cassidy’s noggin in the triangle of her forearm, bicep and left breast, Treymane stuffed her left hip into the pit of Woolridge’s stomach, then jerked her up n’ over and rode her all the way to the mat with a BOOMING Headlock Takedown.
Not about to relinquish her grip on the Sorority Sadist, Veronica made sure to angle Cass’s face so her mouth and nose were pressed tight against the swell of her breast, effectively transforming the Headlock into a Smother. “Made a big mistake running your yap to me, Daisy.” Treymane muttered between long constrictions. “Should’ve just stayed on the penthouse carpets, that’s the only place your nasty shit is worth any AAAAAHHHH FAAAAAHHHK!”
Woolridge bit into the encroaching jugg and didn’t let go until Veronica broke the Headlock and pounded a few desperate shots into the side of her skull. Stepping between the blondes as they rose, Merle extended a hand in both directions. “That’s it! Enough of this biting and hair pulling shyt or I’ll call it right now! Understood?”
Veronica didn’t say anything but Cassidy shook her head ‘no’ at once. Spinning away from them both, she stormed over to the edge of the ring to call for a mic, which was hastily provided. “No, I don’t understand, asshole! You say no biting and no hair pulling? I say fahk you, that’s how I fight! I say I’m down for Penthouse Rules if Turner Classic Movies over there thinks she’s tuff enough!”
“Explain.” Treymane growled.
Cassidy started to scoff, so Merle held up a finger to keep her quiet. “No disqualifications as long as you don’t leave the ring.” he said. “Pins are to the count of five and can’t be broken by rope breaks. Submission holds cannot be broken by reaching the ropes, save for chokeholds like Sleepers. Basically the only thing you can’t do is claw your opponent’s eyes out.”
Veronica offered Cassidy a hard smile. “And here I thought there were no rules. That’s how you want it, Daisy? Fine. You got it.”
Treymane barely got the words out of her mouth when a boot from Northwestern’s most notorious sorority sister flashed in the blink of an eye, plunging into the midriff of the Pinstripe Putz. Doubled, her deep brown eyes bulging, Treymane gasped while Woolridge collected Veronica’s noggin in a tight Side Headlock.
“You’re right for once,” Cass chuckled. “I got it.”
With her left arm wrapping close, the Wildcat balled her right hand into a fist and buried it into Treymane’s forehead one, two, three times, the third sending a wobble through the blonde noob’s stems.
Spreading her right set of digits wide, Cassidy turned in her fist for a curled claw and raked the fingers across Veronica’s eyes one, two, three times.
“Kidding, girlfriend,” Woolridge chirped as the blinded blonde howls in pain. “You can claw your opponent’s eyes out too.”
The queen of Satan’s sorority released her Headlock and shoved a sightless Veronica away disdainfully, raising both arms to the unhappy attendees. Cassidy turned and measured the staggering Treymane and, when the Pinstripe Powerhouse stopped to wipe her tear-filled peepers, Woolridge split her foe’s wickets from behind with a punt to the privates. Veronica’s jaw dropped as quickly as her toes rose to their tips. Pulling her right boot from between Veronica’s thighs, Woolridge placed the sole on the ass of the brown-eyed girl and shoved forward, Ronnie falling to her knees, hands buried between.
“So how many people understand how stupid this girl is, accepting Penthouse Rules with me?” the Chicago native shouted .
More than a few hands shot up, not including Cassidy’s, and when Woolridge got close enough to Treymane, she tugged one of Veronica’s hands away from its tending and raised it high as well.
A growly Veronica tugged the limb away from the green-eyed monster so Cass yanked the rookie up by her scalp instead. Knees still knocking, the blonde seemed frozen as the Sorority Queen ducked and scooped an arm between her foe’s legs, lifting the bigger woman off the deck and onto a shoulder. But instead of slamming Veronica to the deck, Cassidy dropped to one knee and spiked Treymane’s tummy across the raised version, busting Veronica’s gut.
It took but a second for Cassidy to begin her signature Hazing. Pushing down on the back of Veronica’s head with one hand, Woolridge fashioned the other into a paddle and sent Treymane through an old fashioned spanking machine before dumping the tyro into a pile at her feet.
“See,” Cassidy chided, “where you went wrong was not asking for Outhouse Rules. I ‘d imagine you’re a LOT more used to those.”
With Veronica on hands and knees in front of her, still swaddling her midsection with one arm, Cassidy hauled the Capone wannabe to vertical, exchanging her grip for a wrist. She sent Treymane on her horse, Veronica careening across the canvas before turning and CRASHING into the buckles with enough force to unhinge her legs and leave her seated on the mat, legs extended.
The sight was a red flag for Woolridge who immediately sprinted across the canvas seemingly ready to bust a bronco. But as she reached the target she slowed. Instead, she turned in a 180 and STUFFED her pert little bubble backside into Veronica’s mug, swabbing Treymane‘s face in a filthy figure-8 that had no doubt seen more than its fair share of grinding out in the clubs on Division Street.
Getting her fill of the Stink Face and then some, a sputtering Veronica pressed her palms against Cassidy’s thighs and tried to shove her away, but with no leverage, Woolridge scrubbed away at her leisure the stripe-shirted, fun-hater silenced under the new rules of the fight.
With her hips growing weary, Cassidy turned and stuck an index finger into the chest of her opponent.
“You haven’t even seen the penthouse yet, bytchyaaaOOWWW.”
The Pinstripe Powerhouse, having snatched Woolridge’s finger, bent it back as she rose in front of the Chicago coed and she continued sending the digit in a direction it wasn’t meant to go until Cass was on her knees.
But before she could break it or more likely convert the grip into some other form of payback, Woolridge looped an Uppercut with her free arm between the rookie’s thighs, this time a forearm smashing into the undercarriage of Treymane, halting any momentum the Pinstripe Powerhouse was hoping to find.
With the grip on Cassidy’s pointer instantly gone, Veronica dropped to her knees, features twisted in agony. The blondes knelt in front of each other. But while Treymane looked petrified, Cassidy turned her hands into two sets of talons and SANK them into the thinly-sheathed bosom of her fellow blonde
Squeezing for all she’s worth, flexing and digging in her nails, Cass drew a series of pained yips from her foe that grew louder and more sustained when Cassidy draws Veronica to her feet by the handholds on her rival’s breasts.
“Is the explanation sinking in now,” Cass purred, “or is it just my nails?”
Woolridge launched Veronica into a front flip in a mammarific version of a Hip Toss. Treymane ended on her booty, the landing sending a shockwave up and down the rookie’s spine. And when the Wildcat followed it up with a Soccer Kick to the backbone, Veronica’s vertebrae arched in pain, the Pinstriped One’s pursed lips bursting open.
After the boot, the Sorority Queen took a victory lap, goading the jeering FAWNatics and loving every second of having the hapless noob trapped in her playground. By the time Woolridge made it back to Treymane, the bigger blonde was on her feet, but still unaware of Cass’ location. Leaping from behind like a green-eyed feline, Cassidy wrapped an arm around Veronica’s throat and laid out, ripping Treymane off her feet and POUNDING her into the deck with her signature Sorority Row.
SORORITY ROW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOYLrSI0K7U
Woolridge gleefully floated over to a lateral press, hooking a leg and Merle slid down beside the flaxen-haired beauties, slapping the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Reflexively shoving a shoulder off before the THREE, Veronica saved her pride, though she still had two additional seconds to save the match under the Penthouse Rules.
“Makes the night a little longer,” Cassidy admitted to her foe, knowing she didn’t get all that close to the clincher, “but a three second pin, five seconds, ten seconds? It isn’t going to matter when I make you whimper and scream I QUIT. Problem is, I’m not going to stop until you beg to be sent back to Bangor. A verbal contract to send you back to the bushes. Because that’s where bytches like you belong.”
Treymane snorted derisively, a sound Woolridge wasn’t used to hearing out of a chick who’d had her ass kicked from pillar to post for the last few minutes. “Lemme tell you something, Daisy.” she muttered while struggling to her knees. “There’s girls in Bangor that would eat your punk ass aliVERRRGGHHH!”
Not about to take that shyt from some wannabe pledge, Cassidy plunged her hands into Veronica’s hair and slammed her face against the mat for several seconds of overenthusiastic scrubbing. Calling it to a halt only when the other blonde’s keening got to be too much for her ears to take, Woolridge stood up, forced the vulnerable tyro to all fours and reeled her into a Standing Headscissors. “While this fat ass certainly makes for a great set of bongos,” the Wildcat proved it by CLAPPING both hands against Veronica’s glutes, “I wouldn’t want to be accused of infringing on Lisa’s gimmick, especially not with the mood she’s been in lately. Guess that means I’ll have to find some other way to make you suffer.”
Her solution wasn’t long in coming, as she curled her fingers under the bottom edges of Treymane’s pinstriped briefs and yaaaaaaaaaaaanked more than enough to bare a good three quarters of her foe’s bum. “Oh yeah, I know it hurts, sweetie,” Cass yanked the material back n’ forth, sawing it into opposing undercarriage, “but don’t worry. This hurts more.” Bending her knees slightly, Woolridge jerked up and back, using nothing more than the stretchy briefs to try and hoist the Neo-Noir Knockout into place for a Piledriver.
Treymane’s togs did exactly what they were supposed to do, alas the woman wearing them proved far less cooperative. Legs kicking furiously, Veronica forced Cassidy to return her to the canvas, a blessed relief despite her newly-minted thong. Disgusted, Woolridge bore down on the Headscissors and gave the wedgie another violent side to side tug. “Bytch, if these things tear before I drop you on your head I swear you’re gonna eat WHOOOOAAHHHH!”
Able to capitalize on her strength advantage for what felt like the first time tonight, Veronica gripped her foe just above and behind the knees, then straightened up so that the Sorority Sadist was draped down her back like the world’s meanest cape. This shift in alignment made Woolridge forget all about the wedgie, as she was suddenly far more interested in getting loose before the rookie bytch could try whatever it was she had in mind. “Set me down right now frosh or I swear you’ll WHOOAANNNNGGHHH!” Veronica snapped her prey up n’ over and sat out, adding her own momentum to the already powerful descent that THWHAMMED Cassidy spine-first into the mat.
SIT-OUT ALABAMA SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMQKpMgwui8
Jolted hard by the powerful impact, Woolridge cradled the back of her head in both hands and would’ve turned onto her side if Treymane hadn’t maintained control of her ankles. For a moment Veronica considered trying for a pin, but then she remembered the extended count and the savage glee Woolridge had taken in humiliating her since the bell began. “All right sister, you wanna fight like an alley cat, that’s how we’ll fight. Just don’t come crying to me when you hafta sing like a canary.”
Scooting back from the prone blonde without letting loose of her boots, Veronica pulled her right leg up, wedged that foot into the fork of Cass’s thighs and pushed forward while simultaneously wrenching back on those captured ankles. No disrespect to Woolridge’s singing voice, but the note she produced in the seconds immediately following the Wishbone were less beautiful canary song and far more wet cat trapped in a burlap sack.
Sat up straight by the merciless grinding against her centre, Cassidy grabbed Veronica’s ankle with both hands and when that didn’t work she leaned forward as best she could and sank her talons into Treymane’s thigh. “Leggo right now, fucker.” the Wildcat snarled through clenched teeth. “If I have to tell you twice it’ll be so much worse for NNNNNNGGHHH FAAAHHHK!”
Veronica did indeed remove her foot from Woolridge’s groin, but only so she could THWHUMP it with a short, brutal Mule Kick. The resultant spasm wrenched her feet loose of the other blonde’s clutches; unfortunately she couldn’t do much more than flop onto her stomach and fold in around her throbbing crotch. Veronica stood up and eyed the scene with some satisfaction, though her smirk curdled into a snarl when she oh so gingerly plucked her distended togs back to the factory preset.
Sighing with relief once the job was done, Treymane started forward, then drew back as a thought crossed her mind. “This job wasn’t supposed to be personal, Daisy. But when a no class tramp threatens to make me beg for mercy, I tend to take it very personally.” As if tone of voice wasn’t proof enough, the Pinstripe Powerhouse suddenly charged her foe, hopped into the air and raised her right knee to chest level. Planting that foot against Woolridge’s upturned tush, Veronica stamped down with all her weight to THWHAM Cass’s hips into the mat. As Curbstomps went it wasn’t nearly effective as those delivered to the back of the neck, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant and spoke volumes as to the level of respect Treymane had for her adversary.
Unprepared for the attack on her haunches, Woolridge grunted unpleasantly, rolled a short distance clear and pushed to her knees amidst peals of laughter from the FAWNatics. Green eyes tossing sparks in the wake of what she saw as an unforgivable humiliation, Cassidy raked hair off her face and snarled, “Bytch, you have no idea who you’re screwing with.”
Veronica kept a safe distance; though she raised a hand and beckoned the North Shore Narcissist join her. “I know exactly who you are. You’re the mouthy Daisy with my boot tread tattooing her ass. You’re right about one thing though. I wouldn’t screw you for all the gold in Fort Knox.”
Snarling her hate, Cassidy Woolridge sprang to vertical and raced at Treymane with her claws poised to slash and rend. The Dangerous Dame held her ground ‘til the last moment, then snatched hold of her foe’s left wrist in both hands and twisted around on her six. Wedging Woolridge’s hand between her shoulders with a Hammerlock, Veronica kept it secured with one hand so she could slip under Cass’s right arm and come out squeaky clean on the other side. A Kneelift THWHUMPED between Woolridge’s thighs wasn’t actually necessary for Veronica’s plans but it did her heart good and it did double the savage slut over that much faster. With the Hammerlock still in place, Treymane caught Cassidy’s head in a Front Facelock, then bent her knees and hoisted the lissome lovely directly overhead. Veronica let her hang there just long enough to think about it, then kicked a leg forward and laid out on her back to THWHAM Woolridge down full force atop her pinioned arm.
HAMMERLOCK SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=08aFCME7qLI
Cassidy bounced to a seat and pulled her injured wing tight to her chest only to snarl her displeasure when Treymane snatched her by the elbow and pulled her arm back. Veronica repeated the tactic with her other arm, then very quickly wedged Woolridge’s forearms into the pits of her knees, effectively allowing the Neo-Noir Knockout to use the vice of her thighs and calves to keep Cass’s claws out of the equation.
“What’d you say you were going to do to me?” Veronica leaned in over one shoulder and pressed her cheek to Woolridge’s, a not so subtle reminder of the control she exerted. “Oh that’s right! You were going to make me whimper. Make me quit. Make me beg to go back to Bangor.”
Cassidy jerked hard, but it only sent a painful jolt through her shoulders. “That’s right, bytch. Don’t get too comfortable, because that’s coming real soon.”
Veronica nodded, then whispered. “So, was that before or after I showed your tits to the world?”
The Wildcat went stone still. “Do it and you’re dead. Don’t test me OOOHHH YOU FAHKING BYTCH!”
Treymane yanked her opponent’s top down to thunderous cheers which only grew louder when she cupped her hands over Cassidy’s breasts and squeezed until her knuckles turned white.
The official started to scold the Pinstripe Powerhouse but held his powder, realizing Veronica’s cattiness was par for the course under the rules of engagement. And for the next several seconds, Cassidy looked terribly upset she’d ever thought about the Penthouse, howling as Treymane ripped into her chest, digging and kneading. The Sorority Queen tried to break her arms free, but they remained pinned to her back by Veronica’s mass.
Squirming and writhing, Woolridge yelped out a loud ‘NO’ when the official asked if she wanted to surrender, paying a heavy price to have the Neo Noir Knockout relent, and Treymane treated Cass to a flex of her digits in retribution that drew an agonized howl.
“Maybe YOU should head to Maine, sweetheart,” Veronica informed before giving one more twisting tug for the road and then releasing.
Cassidy reflexively dropped to her chest, hands tucked underneath, cupping the ravaged bosom and keeping it out of range as Treymane circled above, landing the occasional boot to the ribs or shoulders when the Chicagoan tried to rise. Finally, Treymane sauntered to a corner behind the flustered and furious Wildcat.
“Here kitty, kitty,” Veronica called to her fellow blonde as Cassidy rose, her hands falling away from her reddened, bare breasts. “What would make you feel at home, kitty?” Treymane asked.
Responding to sound rather than content, the wincing Woolridge spun to face off against her foe and lived to regret it when Veronica surged toward her in a cyclone–esque spin. Treymane lifted a big boot that collided violently with Cassidy’s chin. The Windy City native knocked into a wicked pirouette by the kick, Veronica’s ‘Chicago Lightning’ sending Cass screwing herself into the deck and landing in a heap akin to a drunken Indian-style seat.
CHICAGO LIGHTNING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vN3jJgwDcXU
The head of the gobsmacked beauty bobbled like a doll of the same name, but somehow the catty Chitown native remained on her cheeks and not her side. Not hesitating, Veronica hauled the dazed catfighter to her feet. From Cassidy’s side, Veronica stepped a leg over that of Woolridge and stretched her tall sturdy frame horizontally across the brat’s back. Slipping her upper body under Cassidy’s far arm while she made the opposite limb her Pumphandle, Treymane had her mewling foe ready for launch
“Nuhhohh,” the Sorority Queen pleaded softly. Woolridge was drowned out by the delighted FAWNatics who prepared to watch Cassidy’s ‘Journey Into Fear’.
Veronica vaulted the slighter grappler off the deck with practiced ease, scooping her foe as high as her shoulders. Treymane genuflected and nearly broke Cassidy in two with the force of her Backbreaker.
JOURNEY INTO FEAR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-2mVWZigWA
Before Veronica could keep the Windy City Wildcat stretched across her knee, the boneless Cassidy spilled to the deck. The rookie mounts her in a forward-facing straddle of the waist and hooked her hands into curled talons, both sinking them into Cassidy’s exposed plums while also pressing her flat for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Woolridge shrieked and threw a shoulder up.
A startled Veronica shrugged as she released her tear-inducing handholds.
“Frankly, I expected less,” she announced, “but there are plenty more shots in my Tommy.”
Veronica hauled a battered Cass to her feet, the smaller blonde looking very small indeed, not to mention quiet. With the wrist of Woolridge in her control, Veronica bent it back, wrapping the arm around Cassidy’s throat, ready to knock the Chicagoan into next week with her signature ‘Kiss Me Deadly’.
But playing to the Penthouse crowd for a second or two came back to bite the Neo Noir Knockout when, before she could launch and break Cassidy’s flawless face, the ferocious Wildcat reappeared with a Kneelift that parted Veronica’s thighs. Treymane jolted onto tiptoes, her grip on Woolridge falling away immediately.
Slumped and seemingly frozen, her brown eyes bugging, the Pinstripe Powerhouse was unable to react as her topless foe gasped her way to recovery while grasping Treymane’s pinstriped top. Cass slips her fingers underneath then ripped the buttons out down the middle, separating the covering. Veronica’s gurls released, Woolridge maintained her grip on one side of the split garment and swung Veronica through a full 360 to finally relieve her of the garment. Running to the ropes, Cassidy threw it to Souvenirland and returned her gaze to the bigger blonde.
Drawing close from Veronica’s six, Cassidy bared her talons and scraped them from shoulders to ass, leaving ten long red welts down the entirety of her foe’s back. Veronica squealed in pain, her spine arching in agony. But Cass wasn’t done. Using her nails, she makes a new set across the expanse from side to side, leaving a set of redlined boxes in a pattern. Again, Treymane howled, this time stumbling forward as her vertebrae curved beneath the stinging scratches.
When Veronica made the mistake of leaning against a set of ropes facing the crowd, Cassidy was there from behind, forcing the throat of the Pinstripe Powerhouse down across the rubber-coated steel. As Treymane’s face grew rosy, her eyes bugging, Cassidy just leans in harder, knowing no count was coming.
“Are you starting to understand you cosplaying bush leaguer? This is my penthouse…MINE!”
The Sorority Queen relented, but only to turn the bigger blonde 45 degrees. Cassidy scooped her foe off the deck with an arm behind Veronica’s legs and another behind her back. Sending her high, for could’ve been a Side Suplex, Cassidy instead hoisted Veronica back down on her feet, or would have if Treymane’s crotch hadn’t met the top rope and prevented the Knockout’s boot leather from reaching the canvas.
With a wincing, mewling Pinstriper pressing her hands against the cable, trying to relieve some of the pressure on her undercarriage, Cassidy grabbed the strand on either side of Veronica and rammed the cable up and down, thrusting it higher between Treymane’s thighs, Veronica taking a most unwelcome ride courtesy the Windy City Kitty.
“Now,” Woolridge shouted in the yelping Veronica’s ear, “why don’t you tell me how much you like that maple syrup up North.”
Cass rammed the rubber-coated steel HIGH.
“TELL ME!”
Alas, that was a demand Veronica couldn’t honour even if she wanted to (which she didn’t). With the top rope digging deep into her undercarriage she was reduced to little more than a hapless cowgirl strapped to the back of a bucking bronc, one’s who’s machinations were controlled entirely by Cassidy Woolridge.
Suddenly determined to be the first woman in FAWN history to ever win with such a tactic, the North Shore Wildcat set her feet and jerked up all the harder, digging deep into her reserves to saw Treymane in half from the bottom up. “GO ON, BYTCH!” she shrieked to the yowling blonde. “BEG FOR MERCY AND MAYBE I’LL LET YOU GO BEFORE NNNNGGHH!”
Veronica locked her ankles beneath the middle rope not because it alleviated the pain, but to keep herself from falling off when she let go of the ropes and clouted her rival across the cheek with an impromptu Polish Hammer. Stumbling back a few steps, Woolridge cleared her head quickly enough and returned with a vengeance. She feigned another grab for the ropes and when Treymane tried to intercept her Cass snatched hold of her hair instead and jerked down hard, thus trapping her prey into a Tree of Woe that was as unpleasant as it was awkward. “You’re gonna scream my name, new meat.” Woolridge hissed at the trapped battler. “Scream it so loud these idiots will hear it right up until the time the ambulance doors swing shut.”
This ominous threat was met with more mindless mewling, so Cassidy rounded on one heel and ran to the other side of the ring. Returning with a respectable head of steam, the Sorority Queen dove into a perfect Baseball Slide which itself transformed into Low Dropkick that THWHACKED her heels into Treymane’s chin. The Dangerous Dame’s legs finally slipped loose of the top rope and hit the canvas in an ungainly pratfall that did nothing for her already breathless state.
FROSH SQUASH @ 00:47
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXZ9h8_s1lc
Though Veronica looked as defenceless as anyone could remember, Cassidy didn’t attempt a cover. Rather she buried her hands in Treymane’s sweat-soaked hair and hauled her to boot-leather. Said verticality grew all the more tenuous when Woolridge landed another Kneelift, this one just above the navel. Bent over double by the almost Low Blow, she couldn’t stop Woolridge from reeling her into a Standing Headscissors. “Should’ve peeled these off ten minutes ago.” Cassidy said of Veronica’s bottoms, of which she’d helped herself to a large double handful. “Glad I didn’t, though. They’re actually proving quite useful.” To prove it she ripped Treymane off her feet with a heartless wedgie and sat out as soon as the other blonde was upside down, the crown of Veronica’s skull THWHUNKING against the canvas with nauseating force.
WEDGIE ASSISTED PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohinUBX5k_E
All languid smiles and bedroom eyes after the wedgie-assisted Piledriver left Treymane pooled out in a starfish, Cassidy climbed into a high, knee-splayed Front Face Sit, one that brought the centre of her trunks into grinding, humiliating contact with her prey’s muzzle. Teasing Treymane’s tits simply because she could, Woolridge timed her tweaks and plucks to coincide with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVOOOOOOOO!
Cassidy exploded to her feet with a wail of furious pain, the reason for which the FAWNatics didn’t pinpoint until they saw the North Shore Narcissist’s right hand pressed tight to a spot on the inside of her left thigh. “SLUTTY BYTCH!” Woolridge shrieked at the slowly rising blonde. “STAND UP SO I CAN FEED YOU YOUR FACE!”
Veronica did exactly that in spite of the fan’s warnings. Even in her current condition she wouldn’t turn down a challenge from the likes of Cassidy Woolridge. Noble and foolish in equal measure, the Neo-Noir Knockout’s own grit and determination made it that much easier for the other blonde to plot her next move. Stalking off to Treymane’s left, Cass drew a bead on her opponent’s temple, then wheeled around and ran the ropes once more. Veronica was still doubled over when she came back so Woolridge straightened her up with a THWHAPPING Kneelift, the first half of a brutal Two For One Ladies Night Special. Knocked up on her toes by the blow, Treymane swung around in a drunken circle, seemingly unaware of Cassidy’s journey to the opposite side of the ring and the Clothesline she brought back with her.
But ‘seemingly’ was a very dangerous word, as everyone in the FAWN arena was reminded when the Pinstripe Powerhouse lunged out of her stupor and caught Woolridge flush on the chin with a straight right hand. Stopped in her tracks by the jab, Cass was too stunned to react much when Veronica lit up her cheek with a left handed Bytch Slap, though her legs shimmied dangerously after the bigger blonde, palmed the back of her head and jerked her down into a THWHONKING Kneelift. Hands dropped limp at her sides, Woolridge could only stand there and watch as Treymane spun around in a tight little circle and came out the other side with a Discus Lariat that THWHAMMED across her clavicle.
DRIVE BY NIGHT FLURRY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ueSykZ920dg
Both ladies went down in the wake of the Drive By Night Flurry, however Woolridge was the only one who landed on her back, so Veronica draped an arm across her chest for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVOOOOOOOO!
Cassidy slung Veronica’s arm aside and rolled onto her stomach, where she collected herself for several seconds before struggling to her feet. “That’s it.” she growled low in the back of her throat. “That is fucking it. Time you got a real taste of the Penthouse, bytch.” Right hand curled into a vicious ‘C’ Cass slunk around in front of the other blonde, her claw trailing in mystic passes that would surely grow far more focused the instant Treymane regained her feet. Sure enough, Veronica stood up and Cassidy lashed out, the latter earning a piercing sob from the former courtesy of the Crotch Claw. “GIVE IT UP!” The Wildcat bellowed into her foe’s pain-crimped face. “GIVE IT UP OR I’LL STRIP YOU DOWN TO BOOTS AND PADSSEEERGGGGHHHH!”
Treymane laced her hands across the back of Cass’s neck and twisted her head sharply toward her left shoulder. Bearing down on Woolridge’s neck even as the Sorority Queen mauled her centre, Veronica set her feet, jostled her hips from side to side and almost sobbed with relief when Cassidy abandoned her grip to fight the Cravate. Desperate to remove the catfighter’s vertical base, Treymane dipped her knees and yanked up, forcing Woolridge to hop up and lace her legs around opposing waist. Even in those dire straits Cassidy’s legs proved sadistically strong so rather than endure them a moment longer the Pinstripe Powerhouse lurched around in a ragged circle, rocked back on her heels and dropped to her tush. The Maltese Noose snapped taut with a soft thump, then Cassidy’s head whiplashed up n’ down at a velocity often reserved for minor car accidents. Laid flat on her back by the brutal drop, Woolridge moaned softly when Veronica pushed her ankles up over her head, then slid forward and sat down on those upturned haunches in an exhausted Matchbook. There was no question of Cassidy’s shoulders being down, so Merle slapped off…
MALTESE NOOSE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3amQS-IQFLc
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVE!
The bell sounded and Veronica slopped forward onto her tummy, where she stayed all through the Announcer’s confirmation. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… VERONICA TREYMANE!”
Treymane rolled onto her back and started to raise an arm, only for the ref to take her by the wrist and return her to boot-leather for a proper victory pose. Vaguely aware that Merle was situated in front of her and not beside, Veronica groaned, “What’s the hapse, Shamus? Since when have you taken to bodyguarding?”
“Since you lost your top.” he replied. “You want a tee-shirt, Veronica? There’s always a stash ringside.”
Thusly reminded of her partial nudity, Treymane placed an arm over her chest, then stepped aside and looked down at the prone Wildcat. “Tee-shirts aren’t really my style. Trophies and trade-offs though. That’s speaking my language.” Brushing past the official, she trudged over to a patch of canvas empty save for Cassidy’s shorn top. With the scale properly balanced, she walked back to Cass, placed a foot on her fluttering tummy and raised both hands high for the Gladiatrix money shot. She was about to thank the fans for their support when a change in their tone turned Treymane’s attention to the top of the stage.
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
The formerly empty space just this side of the curtains was now occupied by a tall, bronzed-skinned brunette in a slinky black dress with gold shoulderpads and an equally shimmery crescent cut high atop her left thigh. Booing vociferously the instant they identified Alexis Suguitan, the crowd soon channeled its vitriol into a ‘YOU SUCK!’ chant powerful enough to rival any of those directed at her mentor, one Portia Ophelia VanBuren. But neither Alexis or Veronica paid the chant any mind, as they were too busy eying one another, the brunette regarding the blonde with a mildly impressed smile that the victor returned as a sort of wary curiosity.
Alexis said something then and though noise and distance were too far for her to hear it outright, the FAWN’tron had blown Suguitan up something huge and Treymane had no problem reading her lips.
‘Not bad. Keep it up, Ronnie.’
Displeased by the idea that she’d drawn the attention of the Associates, Veronica walked to the ropes and shouted, “Did she send you?” Alexis only waved and flitted through the curtain. “What the hell, Rachel?” Treymane muttered under her breath, her voice totally free of the gun moll inflection she used whenever the cameras were rolling. “If you wanted to talk, all you had to do was ask.”
Brushing the incident aside after a moment’s pause, she set out on a circuit of the posts, mounting each one to make sure everyone got a good glimpse of Cassidy’s top and the guns that’d taken her down.