Post by bigfan on Apr 3, 2018 18:00:19 GMT
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the Announcer came to centre stage, bringing a microphone to his lips and capturing the crowd’s attention, their anticipation palpable. “The following contest will be for One Fall. Introducing first,” the Announcer began, although he scarcely needed to, the FAWNatics already amped for the appearance of the most Babyfaced of Brits, “Hailing from Nottingham, England, she is the People’s Princess, SAMANTHA!! SINCLAIR!!!”
GOOD TIME
www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_56H2DJct0
As the music hit, it was impossible to harbour thoughts of misgivings, its peppiness familiar and enticing, the promise that it made uncompromising, the Globe Trotting Heroine always returning to her home in FAWN!
The moment Samantha Sinclair appeared on stage, that was when the FAWNatics truly lost their sh*t, the Leader of the Upstart Nation sporting a new soundtrack and standing as tall as her perfectly petite mass would allow her, catching the light in all the right places as she whipped both her arms up high and waved. Five foot four and one hundred and ten pounds of athletically sculptured, miniature might, Sammie Sinclair was every inch the People’s Princess as she cheered back, shimmering in her golden/yellow attire with her dimple, freckled cheeks flushing a delightful shade of crimson.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
Sporting her ever familiar ensemble, family colours bright and on show, Sinclair’s identity was impossible to confuse. Her sports bra remained the same, smoothly curved about her small, proud bosom, leaving her softly sculptured tummy bare and her upraised arms the same way. About her hips snugly sat short skirt which, with a generous slit running up the right side, revealed a wonderful shot of her firm thigh as the baby brown eyed darling hopped up onto her tip toes and spiralled. Her boots were a bright blue and reached upwards to just beneath her kneecaps, tanned from firm leather and sporting lacing right up the front.
With the flourish of her spiral completed, the People’s Princess set her feet apart and kept her fingers wiggling heavenwards, nodding to her followers with a knowing smirk just before she lead them in her usual declaration of intent, a three beat mantra that the Legionnaires watching were always a part of. Once they were ready, she brought her hands together...
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
With her statement of intent made clear she pointed directly towards the squared circle, a hearty explosion of pyrokenetics erupting to either side of the stage that she was standing on. Samantha Sinclair was here and, with a joy induced skip she headed down the aisle at a swift sprint, the second generation superstar with chocolate curls bouncing free about her slender shoulders now a little older, a little wiser and a worthy inheritor of her Father’s legacy. The girl was now a young woman, and she was looking all the bolder for it.
Fearless? Perhaps not, but nerve?
She most defiantly had nerve.
The moment Sinclair reached the squared circle, the Golden Girl took her short detour right ways and, much to the delight of those who found themselves closet, Sammie began clapping every outstretched hand that she discovered, paying particular attention to the youngest in attendance. Beating a fast track around the ring, she soon found herself back at start, a run, skip and jump taking her clean up onto the apron. Grasping the top coil with both her paws, the Bright Eyed Wonder leaned back and, following a cheeky shake her pert buttocks, she shot right over the top rope with an applause worthy sault.
Landing lightly on her feet and clapping once more, she paused only to snag a microphone held out politely by the closest stage hand, his reward a quick smirk that was as sweet as it was endearing. The Loyalists in the audience, which was just about all of them, continued to rain down support even as their darling turned sharply on the spot, bringing her stick to her lips with a fresh smirk. Before she could say a word however, she was interrupted, the Legionnaires beginning a chant that was only building in momentum. Born into the business, the People’s Princess knew when it was best to just let them roll.
The FAWNatics didn’t need much encouragement, memories still fresh from the Little Sparrows most recent PPV’s at the Globe Spanning Promotion that was FAWN. Be it either her emergence as the winner of a Fatal Four Way contest in which she won a converted ‘title’ in the federation that the crowd were now chanting, or the duplicity she had suffered at the hands of her former tag team partner, the Red Headed Hellcat, Elizabeth Cromwell, promptly ending their alliance. The World’s Best Brits had been undone, but one still remained as far as the FAWNatics were concerned...
“WORLD’S BEST BRIT! WORLD’S BEST BRIT! WORLD’S BEST BRIT!”
Sammie’s heartbreaking smile grew only wider, freckled cheeks tinting a bashful crimson.
“Awwwww,” Sinclair’s features grew only redder, “you sure do know how to make a girl feel welcome! Might have to go on tour overseas more often!”
The reaction she received was a resounding “NO!!” and cries of good natured denial, Samantha herself a perfect picture of innocent surprise, for while the Loyalist Legionnaires’ of FAWN were fully prepared for their Little Sparrow to fly, they would much prefer that she do so in Orlando.
“No?” she replied, playing the crowd like a fiddle, the audience loving single minute of it.
“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” the countered, attempting to win her over with their ‘complex’ debate.
“Alright, fine,” she smirked, Sinclair clearly already having no intention of going anywhere else anytime soon, but there was never any harm in engaging her fanbase. “Then I guess I’ll stick around then! Besides this tummy,” she made of show of lightly tapping her softly sculpted tummy, the insinuation, “has been feeling a little bare for far too long, I figure it’s time I do something about that right?”
The roar she received in response was all the reply that she could need, her endearing grin back in place, the mic returning to her lips one last time.
“First things first though,” she turned back to the curtains, Sinclair’s smile fading as the Leader of the Upstart Nation turned her thoughts from future endeavours to the here and now.
“Baby wants her bottle...”
With the crowd just barely willing to calm back down, and Sammie prepping herself in her chosen corner, he continued with proceedings.
“Her opponent this evening,” the he boomed, “hailing from Bath County, Kentucky… RUE ANN MACKENNA!”
BURY THEM DEEP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_kn2rtuc4o
The first few guitar chords of “Bury Them Deep” begin to strum and the arena lights dim. At the entrance ramp appears a shapely silhouette for a familiar redhead. Rue Ann wastes no time with theatrics though, and bursts through – her bare feel slapping on the arena floor. She is adorned in her usual black singlet, cut to below her navel. Her ample cleavage is concealed, for once, with a white t-shirt adorned with red lettering: “Princesses Are Meant to be Overthrown.” The insinuation isn't lost on the FAWNatics, either, and the boos are endless.
RUE ANN MCKENNA
Rue smiles at the sound, drinking it in.
But some FAWNatics are happy to see her. Some hoping she'll wipe the smug goodness off of Sammie's face, others hoping to see a glimpse of the Rue Ann who showed kindness and sportsmanship against Crimson. As she nears the ring Rue strips the shirt off and tosses it to a fan. She hops the ring's skirt and slides between the ropes. She eyes up Sammie and blows her a kiss. She looks at the referee and gestures to the mic in Sinclair's hand. The official makes a “me get it?” gesture.
“Do you honestly trust me to approach an opponent before a match?” Rue Ann asks.
The referee doesn't need to answer. He approaches the People's Princess and takes the microphone, bringing it back to the hillbilly. Rue Ann fiddles with the microphone, wiping it down as if she can remove all of the British that's touched it. She blows into the mic’s head and feedback barrels through the arena. Fans, ref, and Sammie wince. Rue almost looks embarrassed, fiddling with it again. She raises it to speak, but no words are amplified.
The fans begin to laugh as Rue shakes the mic, as if sound is stuck in it. Again, feedback and everyone winces. By this time, Sammie is getting impatient and crosses her arms in her corner. Rue raises the mic to her lips finally, takes in a deep breath…
And flings the mic across the ring with amazing precision!!
If this were a knife, if would have embedded itself into Sammie's forehead. However, it's a blunt object and it, instead, beans the Brit between the peepers. Sinclair instinctively clutches her forehead and yelps. As she does, Rue Ann plows across the ring and buries a shoulder into Sinclair's midsection. Sammie's back slams against the turnbuckles. Before she can react, though, Rue Ann palms the back of her head and shoves her forward over an outstretched leg. Sinclair falls, but catches herself with her hands.
As the bell frantically rings, Rue grabs a fistful of Sammie's hair and pulls her up. “Welcome back, princess,” Rue hisses. She raises an elbow to drop into the top of Sinclair's skull. “Just in time to be crowned!”
Sinclair’s peepers were still fluttering in stunned confusion when Rue grabbed a fistful of her chocolate curls, dragging the winded young women up onto her knees by her roots. Blindsided, she never the less raised her right arm upwards to vaguely fend off some manner of offence, but with the Upstart disorientated, such efforts were futile at best.
With the point of Rue’s elbow driven home with cruel efficiency, Sammie’s noggin bobbed sharply from the blunt force trauma, her right arm dropping almost as soon as she had raised it, her palm pawing at the other girl’s firm hip.
The fans are horrified by the display and jeer, which feeds Rue more and more. She raises her hands like a dictator, beckoning more hate from the subjects. She looks down at Sammie. “You didn't go all the way down. I'm impressed. Of course, if that's a habit, my sympathies to your lady.” Rue Ann kicks Sammie across the jaw, laying her out on her side.
Rue Ann drops to her butt behind Sammie and grabs one of the Princess's calves. Grabbing a handful of tresses as well, Rue pulls her captured Sammie bits back while placing a foot in the middle of her back. The referee sets into an immediate count, getting all the way to four almost immediately. Rue Ann releases the hair but not the leg, glaring at the ref. “HEY! Fast counts are only when they benefit me!”
“Sportsmanship is of a benefit to everyone,” he croaks.
Rue glares, and the referee remembers Rue losing to Crimson when she played by the rules. He nervously tugs at his collar as Rue rises. “Come on, Princess.” She grabs Sammie's locks to pull her up for a hairmare. “You're late for the ball.”
The waylaid Samantha released the smallest of groans as she was yanked up by her curls once more, forced to trot in a small half circle on uncertain stems before the red head threatened to toss her right back down onto the canvas. That was until her Sinclair resolve kicked in, the Little Sparrow not prone to wilting under a little pressure, the young women waiting for her moment before she stood before her opponent.
“I’m never late,” she retorted, reaching out with both arms and palming the back of Rue Ann’s neck. Dropping to her knees and falling sharply, gravity became her ally as she tucked her own head in tight, aiming to catch the loudmouth with a stunning Jawbreaker!
Sammie slams to the mat and rattles all of Rue's fillings. The Hillbilly Nightmare stumbles back before landing on her but like a stunned toddler. MacKenna laughs, though, rubbing her mouth. “This might be worth having gotten out of bed fo--” Rue doesn't finish the sentence. A boot across the mouth interrupts her. Sinclair may be tiny but she packs a wallop, and Rue splays out from the impact.
The fans rally again, seeing their beloved hero return with fight. Rue Ann is noticeably less thrilled.
MacKenna pushes herself up slowly, shaking her head. “Okay, now you're just annoying,” Rue grumbles. “Am I gonna have to clip your wings?”
The question receives no verbal answer, which isn't shocking. Rue's used to FAWN's fighters not being a chatty as her, with the exception of Trixie. But Rue briefly wonders if Sammie hit her harder than she realized as she seems to be seeing double. A split second too late, she realizes what she sees is two boot bottoms aimed at her face as Sinclair flies off the ropes in a missile dropkick.
The ‘WOOP!” from the Legionnaires was almost as loud as the SMACK!! of leather meeting features as Rue Ann recoiled from the impact as though shot. Knocked flat from the assault, she was soon joined on the canvas by the perpetrator of the assault, the bright eyed Sinclair rolling over onto her back.
Blinking several times, as if only now regaining her bearings, the People’s Princess inhaled a deep breath, swung up her athletic stems skywards, rolled up onto her slender shoulders and positively LAUNCHED her perfectly petite frame right up to standing with FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up!! The crowd POPPED! upon witnessing the familiar sight, a rallying cry for her supporters for the most Babyfaced of Brits.
“If it’s any consolation Mackenna, if you choice to stay down” Sinclair attempted to sound as intimidating as possible, before shooting back off for the ropes. This time she met them with a hop, her feet effortlessly finding the middle rope in unison, a shout on her lips as she used the taunt coil as a springboard. Leaping into a beguiling arc, Sammie glided through the air, preparing to connect with a Lionsault.
“I won’t think any less of you!”
Sammie's lionsault is textbook, slamming across Rue and shaking the ring. The official falls to begin the pin count.
ONE…
But before two, Sinclair is hoisted and tossed from Rue's body like a sack of potatoes. It's a quick reminder that the mountain girl is a bit stronger than her tiny stature shows. Still, it's a bit humbling for Rue to even have a one count so early.
“You sound like a kitten making ultimatums,” Rue Ann laughs, but then ponders her own tiny voice. This time, the laugh is genuine as she rises to her feet. “I probably shouldn't talk on that.” The moment is so genuine and honest, it actually catches the Golden Girl off-guard for a moment. That's all Rue Ann needs to slam a mighty, open-palm across Sammie's chest. The crack sounds light lightening and the Princess actually stumbles back, clutching the impact. But Sinclair isn't a wilting flower and slams a palm across Rue's breasts. Rue, however, doesn't stumble back and her large rack takes the hit.
KRACK! Rue hammers down on Sinclair's chest with another chop, nearly knocking her on her back. The Brit bucks up, gritting her teeth, and returns another chop.
Again, aside from a boob jiggle and a smirk from Rue, there was no noticeable reaction. Rue pulls back and sends a third chop...
But this time, Sammie is prepared. Sinclair side-stepping and grabbing Rue's by the wrist. Using momentum, Sammie manages to judo throw Rue Ann to the mat.
MacKenna lands on her stomach. But Sammie doesn't release the wrist, instead dropping to her knees in Rue's back while twisting the arm up to her shoulder blades. The official drops to the mat to check for a submission. Rue Ann shakes her head, instead palming the mat and slowly dragging herself and Sammie closer to the bottom rope.
Sinclair didn’t much like the look of that, the slight frame of the Former Lightweight Champion proving inefficient to keep the malcontent beneath her nailed to the canvas. Opting not to take on this particular losing battle she pivoted, retaining her grip of her opponent’s twisted limb as she found her feet, and used the painful torque of Rue Ann’s shoulder to force the other young women up onto her feet.
With the red head hissing, Sinclair twisted the captured limb further, folding it up behind the other girls back in a tight Chickenwing, more than a few of the Legionnaires watching detecting the tutor liege of one Wendy Smith. “Remind me Rue,” the Bright Eyed Wonder couldn’t help but display the smallest smirk, her tone betraying nothing but determined sincerity, “is this the part where I would fold like a paper bag?”
Releasing her hold, not waiting for an answer, Samantha shoved MacKenna forwards. It was little more than a step or two, the red heads base far too sturdy, but it was more than enough room for Sinclair to steal a further pace backwards herself, and wind up for a blistering Sammie Kick!! to an adversaries jaw.
The boot cracks against Rue's jaw and the ginger falls flat on her back. Sammie sighs in relief as she closes in on the chesty villain, reaching down to grab her. However, as much as the kick hurt, it didn't take Rue out of the fight. A heel of a bare foot slams up between Sammie's thighs into her holiest of holies. Her lips round into a perfect “O” shape and Sinclair crumples forward, clutching her crotch. She doesn't fall to her knees but Sammie crouches, catching her breath.
Rue looks up, clutching her jaw, and smiles. “THAT is where you fold like a paper bag.” Rue tucks her knees to her chest and slams both feet, like a mule, into Sammie's face. The fan favourite spills backwards.
Rue stands, shaking out the cobwebs. “I'll give you this, you're better at grappling than I expected,” Rue says. “You also got some strong legs, lady. You deserve more credit than some folks give you.”
MacKenna kicks Sinclair onto her belly. “And since I know you can take it.” Rue pulls Sammie's leg up for a Boston Crab. As she locks it in place, she raises one of her feet and aims it over Sammie's groin. “Let's put the pedal to the metal.”
The Boston Crab alone was enough to illicit a groan from the momentarily paralysed Sinclair, but the STOMP!! to her most private region forced out a GASP!! from the Bright Eyed Wonder. With her free leg spasming, the shapely stem kicking out against the canvas, Sammie bucked from head to toe, firm buttocks clenching as her vindictive rival groooooound her heel in deeper. Sinclair continued to shiver as she shut her eyes tighter, her cheek against the mat as she clenched her fists tightly, biting on her bottom lip in an attempt to hold in a whimper. Rue Ann only took that as encouragement to rotate her heel more sharply, driving her weight down fully onto one of the most sought out possessions in FAWN.
“What do you say Sammie?” the Official enquired, prepared to end it.
The Most Prolific of the Sinclair’s opened her mouth slightly... but only to mouth a refusal. Gritting her teeth, the petite brunette inhaled sharply, pushing up onto her elbows and, inch by painful inch, began her own journey to the closest set of ring ropes.
Rue looks back at Sammie, seeing her desperately inch towards the ropes. “Oh, hey,” MacKenna says, “remember when I tried that?” Rue Ann releases the trapped leg and falls backwards, twisting her torso enough to drive an elbow into the back of Sammie's neck. The People's Princess slams into the mat with a groan.
Rue Ann hops up, reinvigorated by the turn of events, and pulls Sammie to her feet by her hair. SLAM! Rue drives a fist into Sammie's belly, folding her. The Kentucky Menace forces the Princess to stand up straight before sling shooting her into the ropes, catching her with an outstretched arm across the neck on the rebound.
Sammie starts to fall backwards but Rue Ann grabs the swiftly ragdolled young women by her top's neckline and pulls her back to her feet, also somehow managing not to expose Sinclair's goods. Again, the slings Sammie into the ropes. The Upstart's fans brace for another clothesline but this time Rue Ann lets Sinclair slam, face first, into her cleavage.
As Sammie starts to stumble backwards, Rue Ann reaches behind her and grabs both of her wrists. The Hillbilly Hellion crosses Sinclair's wrists and pulls them tight, driving the Brit close to her warm body. With the wrists crossed and locked, Rue Ann engulfs Sammie in a tight face-to-face bearhug, lifting her off her feet. The pain is instant as Rue Ann, curvy and top-strong, constricts her prey close to her large breasts.
“This isn't so bad, is it?” Rue Ann coos. “Come on. You're cute. I'm cute.” Rue Ann winks as she grinds herself into the trapped wrestler. “I mean, I know you prefer Dunbars but you two aren't exclusive, right? Know what, don't say anything yet. Take some time to think on it.” Rue pulls her arms up, wrenching Sammie's wrists higher, while trying to lower Sinclair into a waiting bearhug-smother combo.
The Leader of the Upstart Nation could scarcely do more than moan as her new rival asserted emphatic dominance, tightening her coils with each moment. She tried to keep her eyes focused on her opponents, fighting to remain defiant, but as her peepers began to slowly flutter, they looked anything but. The toes of her boots circled lazily a good inch off the canvas, unable to find purchase, and a fresh, viciously firm pulse from the red heads powerful biceps caused her spine to spasm and her legs to pop open, shapely stems bucking to lift and wrap around her foes rigid hips, exposing the inners of Sammie’s cool, firm thighs to the attentions of Rue Ann’s own, eager sex.
Sinclair “GASPED!”, brown eyes opening wide for just a moment before they fluttered back to half lidded, slender shoulders slumping as her spritely frame shuddered. She moaned, wiggling as best she could, fighting with diminishing reserves as they were bodily squeezed right out of her. “N...no,” she insisted, shaking her head slowly, “...no!”
She wrenched herself backwards, determined to deny Rue Ann the satisfaction of a smother, although the burst of effort seemed to sap her further, the beloved brunette’s noggin rolling backwards, exposing her throat like a wounded animal.
Rue giggles. “Oh, honey, if you're not ready, why didn't you say so? We can stick to foreplay for now.”
Rue pivots, aiming Sammie's back at a corner. She heaves Sinclair up and breaks into a run. MacKenna slams Sinclair into the turnbuckles like a train driving a doll into a brick wall. Upstart fans cry out in horror and anger to see Sammie handled so cruelly. But to Rue, it's not enough. There needs to be a bit of humiliation.
Rue Ann kneels down and drapes Sammie over her shoulders. Standing up, she raises Sinclair in a Gorilla Press to remind the fans – and Sammie – of her strength. She pumps the good girl up and down like it's a work out, then runs to the edge of the ring, making to hurl Sinclair in the audience.
Fans cry out, begging her not to.
Rue Ann laughs, turns and runs to the other side of the ring to mimic the same thing.
Again, fans plead.
Rue Ann instead lowers Sammie into a Fireman's Carry and walks to a nearby corner. Scaling to the top ropes, she eyes the metal stairs below. “I hope you've been doing your crunches, Princess,” Rue says as she adjusts her prisoner, “cuz this might hurt a tender tummy.” With that, MacKenna prepares to drop Sinclair out of the ring, onto the steps, with a Fireman's Carry Gutbuster.
Sammie, however, was not one you allowed time to recover, however fleeting as it may seem. As Rue Ann released enough of her hold to launch her idle cargo, the Tiny Titan took her opportunity to escape, wiggling free from her opponents intended trajectory and landing precariously with her boots braced on the top ropes, one either side of the turnbuckle.
As the FAWNatics gasped with hopeful surprise, Sinclair took advantage of the red heads befuddlement, tucking the stronger young woman into a tight, front headlock. She didn’t waste any time, knowing that she couldn’t keep her captive, and in a moment of heart skipping insanity, shoved her way clear from her perch, pivoting sharply through the air as she did so.
With a (not exactly intimidating) war cry, the petite brunette dragged her new rival right around with her, looking to yank her towards the distant canvas with a blistering, Avalanche Tornado DDT...
AVALANCHE TORNADO DDT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pn_aFBN6oE
Rue Ann collides with canvas in a heap, landing on her shoulders. Sinclair wastes no time dragging her to centre ring, ignoring her aches and pains as best she could before going for the pin.
ONE…
TWO…
T--
Rue Ann bucks, dislodging the former champ.
Most would be annoyed but Sammie seems more determined than ever. She leaps over Rue Ann's body in a handstand before dropping a knee into the Kentucky woman's gut.
Rue Ann tries to play off as though it doesn't hurt but no one buys her no sell. MacKenna shoves Sinclair to the side and pushes herself up, but the legacy fighter is already on her feet and jumps onto the redhead's back. Cupping her knees under Rue Ann's chin, Sammie drives her knees into the villain's back in a sort of lungblower from behind.
Rue Ann stumbles forward, falling at the base of a ringpost. Turning over, she looks up just in time to see Sinclair coming in for a landing, slamming across her chest for a Bronco Buster. The fans cheer wildly as Sammie rides the bucking bronco, noticing a LOT more padding than normal thanks to all the chest Rue's mama gave her.
Sammie seems to be having a fine time until, suddenly; she looks horrified and bolts off of Rue Ann. She wipes her hands under her gold skirt, glaring at Rue Ann.
The hillbilly grins. “Oh, so Trixie's the only one who gets to have fun in the ring?” She smacks her lips. “Not my preferred flavour, but I feel I understand Wendy a little better now.”
Sammie's eyes narrow. “Well, if you really wanted a taste--” As Rue Ann stumbles up, Sammie slings herself onto MacKenna for a Hurricanrana.
Taking flight, just as she had done a hundred times before, Sinclair snapped her limber lower limbs about the noggin of the red head, snapping her spritely frame about in a wild spiral. The Legionnaires popped as their Heroine embraced momentum, ripping MacKenna off her own balance, dragging her into a wild stumble that resulted in the powerhouse slamming her forehead against the top turnbuckle once released.
With Rue Ann blinking and cursing into a backwards stumble, the English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions was back on her feet in a flash, riding her second wind as only a Babyface could. Saddling up behind the much strong woman, the brunette was set on proving that a little leverage could offset her own shortcomings, circling her arms about the red heads tummy.
“Only one woman gets the goods, Rue Ann,” Sammie promised, bracing her own stems and preparing to rip her new Rival up and over with a Belly to Back Suplex, “and your sure as heck are no Wendy Smith!!”
Rue's shoulders slam into the mat, but the ref doesn't even drop to count before she rolls to the side. Both women hop up.
“You're right,” Rue yells, more aggressive in her ascent, grabbing Sammie by the neckline again. “I'm better!” She punctuates it with a headbutt. Sammie seems dazed but immediately snaps back and grabs Rue by the black straps of barely-there singlet.
“I doubt it!” she bellows, returning the headbutt to Rue. Both women stumble back, shaking the cobwebs out.
Rue returns with a roundhouse kick, but Sammie flips backwards in a style that would make the choreographers of the Matrix proud, catching herself on her hands while kicking her own legs up. She manages to boot Rue Ann under the chin, the redneck stumbling backwards, before Sinclair landed back on her own feet.
As Rue teeters off balance, Sammie bounds herself off of the ropes and tries to spear into Rue Ann.
Unfortunately for her, MacKenna is still built pretty stable and manages to catch her as the Brit puts a shoulder in her gut. Rue Ann clamps a headlock around Sammie's neck. The Golden Girl, refusing to give up control, decides to test how limber she is by throwing a kick backwards towards Rue's surprised features.
The Scorpion Kick was not only beguiling to witness, it also connected the sole of Sinclair’s blue boot to the features of her foe, the Legionnaires rallying to their heroines cause with ever greater tempo. Rue Ann backpedalled, frustrated by unfolding events, leaning against the ring ropes as she shook free the cobwebs. As she pushed free from the coils, her opponent was already advancing, Sammie sprinting at a breakneck pace!
The Globe Trotting Heroine took flight once again, preparing to topple her top heavy foe by way of a sweet Lou Thesv Press...
Only for MacKenna to catch her in mid flight! A murmur of panic rippled throughout the arena as the Redhead wasted no time on ceremony, cupping the smaller brunette by her firm little buttocks and WHIPPING for forwards in a brutal Spinebuster!! Sammie’s back SMASHED against the canvas, forcing her to buck fiercely and sputter out a pained cry, the dazed young women shivering before she slumped winded, her arms spread open wide and her right leg pointed up at the knee.
Sliding forwards, Rue Ann laces her legs around Sammie's and slams her open talents onto her breasts, grabs and twisting the Brit's sweet meats while she lowers herself in a pin. The official falls to count.
ONE!…
TW--
Sammie bucks a shoulder up but doesn't fully dislodge Rue again.
MacKenna pulls Sammie to her feet by her chest, yanking her around like a helpless toy. But Sammie manages to pry a few claws out of her chest and bend them backwards, making Rue Ann relent on the claw hold.
Sinclair sends a kick to the side of Rue's leg, bending it downward, before whipping herself into the ropes behind her. Sinclair uses the momentum to launch into another dropkick, but she's not quite recovered from the Spinebuster and isn't close to full strength.
Rue Ann sees it coming by a mile, sidesteps, and catches Sammie mid flight. Shifting the Brit around, Rue Ann hoists Sammie up above her and falls backwards to catch her across the top rope with a Stungun.
STUNGUN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHPkP2HIFio
The cable bites into Sammie's neck and she crumples to the mat.
Rue Ann looks down, smiling. “That looks like it hurt. Might have done something to your neck.” She takes hold of Sammie's brown locks and pulls her from the ropes. Dragging her to the middle of the ring, Rue drops Sammie. “Let's have a look,” she purrs as she sits on Sammie's back and cups under her chin for a camel clutch.
As flexible as she was, the FAWNatics knew that their Heroine shouldn’t be able to curl that far backwards, her spine curling into a wicked looking C, the young woman shivering with scarcely contained pain. Sammie groooooaned as her spine protested, her moan low and persistent as her eyes fluttered, the vigour of the Upstart Supreme vanishing along with her stolen momentum. Her breathing became laboured as her small bosom was forcibly thrust outwards, the Gladiatrix Photographers more than happy to capture the moment as the crowd favourite’s arms dropped leaden, the toe of one boot kicking lightly against the canvas.
She shook her head slowly, as best she could, the only sign of defiance she could currently muster as the Official asked for her submission.
Rue Ann cranks the hold back a little more before finally releasing and letting Sammie snap to the mat. Most of the fans are screaming for Rue's blood, but a few in the front have a different cheer.
“STRIP HER! STRIP HER!” a handful of fans scream to Rue. Rue Ann shakes her head.
“Sorry, boys. She's taken.” Rue Ann looks into a camera, sauntering over with a wink. “Donna, her nudity will always belong to you as far as I'm concerned.” She looks back at Sammie's prone form and licks her lips. “But you can do a lot while keeping your clothing on. Youth Group taught me that.”
Rue Ann goes back towards the prone Sammie and snakes a hand under her skirt, caressing her thighs. “Now, hon, we're gonna have some real fun so you can see what you're missing.” Rue rolls Sammie onto her back and scoops her up, holding the Golden Girl upside down in a belly-to-belly bearhug. If Sammie weren't so spent, there's no way this would fly but, as is, Sinclair just hangs suspended from Rue's coiling arms, her mouth and nose bumping against Rue's womanhood. To the horror – or, in some cases, pleasure – Rue's tongue laps out randomly, flicking at Sammie's thighs, exposed by her skirt falling away. She parades and squeezes the former Lightweight Champ, earning fresh moans from her captive, before taking her to a corner and hanging Sammie upside down in a Tree of Woe
The referee begins an instant count but Rue Ann isn't deterred. As it turns out, she can get a LOT of belly punches in during four seconds, Sinclair groaning, flinching and capitulating a little more beneath each one. After the last of the flurry, Rue Ann turns around and looks enraged, pointing just past the ref. “Really, Wendy?! You want to go?!”
The official spins around to look for Sammie's avenging girlfriend. But she's not there. Rue grabs Sammie by the shoulders and pulls her up like a pendulum, ready to ring her bell.
Despite the protests from the Legionnaire’s, MacKenna is free to let loose, swinging the ragdolled Sinclair back down in a wicked whiplash motion. The brunette’s noggin SMACKS!! off the bottom turnbuckle and, with a violent shockwave rippling throughout her petite body, the shapely stems of the Little Sparrow loosen, inadvertently freeing her from her ‘tree’, and she bodily drops to the canvas.
After a few moments of indulging in the sight of her dominance, the Red Head is only mildly surprised to see a semblance of life remaining within the People’s Princess, the spritely young women raising her right hand and grasping the middle rope. With an audible groan, the yellow clad grappler dragged herself up slowly, eventually settling to sitting in her original corner, breathing heavily and pretty peepers half lidded.
Works for me, Rue Ann thinks to herself as she wraps her legs over the bottom ropes and shoves her crotch into the Princess's face. Technically, it's a Bronco Buster but it's more of a Bronco Grind, really. Sammie feels the barely sheathed outline of Rue Ann's sex rub all over her nose and lips, pressing down hard into her face.
Rue Ann locks her legs around the ringpost and crushes her crotch into Sammie's face for a smother. She gets a good half a minute before the official finally turns around and sees what's going on. A hasty count begins and Rue releases as five is reached, tumbling backwards like an acrobat and hopping up. Her face betrays frustration. “RUDE!” she bellows at the ref, pointing a finger. “I don't interrupt you when you're having a moment!” The hillbilly adjusts the crotch of her singlet to fully cover lest anything escape before pulling Sammie from the corner.
Rue pulls Sammie from the corner and slings to the mat again. Sitting on the back of Sinclair's head, Rue Ann pulls back Sammie's legs and stretches her torso out in a punishing Boston Crab. Sammie's skirt falls away to reveal her shapely thighs and blue undies. Rue Ann parts the legs, forcing the trapped fighter into splits, but focuses on what's between.
“Rue Ann,” the ref chides, “I've had enough. Low blow and you're DQed.”
Rue Ann feigns being hurt. “I'm not gonna hurt her!” She slides two fingers gently along Sammie's sex, caressing. “Does this look like it hurts?” The referee blushes a bit, but is forced to admit this isn't illegal. Not in FAWN, at least. He drops to his knees to check for submission. Sammie's eyes are remain unfocused as she bites her lower lip but shakes her head no. To Rue Ann, that just means apply pressure and quicken speed. Sammie violently refuses to submit. Rue Ann refuses to relent and this continues.
“Come on,” the referee says to MacKenna, obviously uncomfortable. “End this.”
“Oh? Should I? I can think of a way,” the redhead snickers.
The official becomes stern again suddenly. “No low blows.”
“No low blows,” Rue Ann assures, leaning forward. “But licks are legal, right?” Rue Ann lowers her lips to Sammie's groin and gently presses her tongue to just the right spot. Undies or not, the bulge of Sammie's eyes betray Rue knows what she's doing. The Golden Girl squirms, trying to pull away, but MacKenna takes Sammie's legs and tucks them tightly under her arms.
Sinclair grits her teeth, fighting desperately not to give Rue Ann the benefit of hearing any sounds of pleasure or even shock. Rue Ann seems more cantered on the task at hand, working her tongue and occasionally involving her fingers, but always staying outside of clothing.
The referee, turning a bright red, is unsure what to do. Technically Rue Ann isn't breaking rules. She's not hurting Sammie. Kind of the opposite. Finally, he kneels. “Sammie, do you submit?”
“Yes, Sammie,” Rue Ann adds, taking a break. “Do you submit to me?” She immediately sets back to her task.
“N-n-n-NO!” Sinclair blurts, shaking her head furiously. But her legs are trembling and the shake is moving working its way towards the rest of her body. Fans and Gladiatrix photographers alike a straining to get shots of this from every angle. But the only thing in Sammie's mind is a mingling of pain and overwhelming sensation. Then, she feels it. She's at the brink. She's almost there.
Rue Ann release her legs and lets Sammie flop to the mat, stopping just short of release. The hillbilly sits on the mat and pulls the Upstart in-between her thighs, locking on a body scissor. “Are you having fun, Sammie?” The gently presses her palms onto Sinclair's chest as she whispers into her ear, “Sure feels like you enjoyed that.”
The young women released a sharp “ugh!” as she was effortlessly captured once again, her trim tummy ruthlessly constricted between a pair of immensely powerful thighs. With each pulse from McKenna’s lower limbs, Sammie groaned, her own athletic legs spasming impotently as her head bobbled atop slender shoulders, her will sapped further with each new embrace.
“Bite me,” the Former Lightweight Champion remained defiant, one arm reaching for the ropes that lay several yards away.
“Soon enough,” Rue Ann promised with a malicious coo, opting to pile on the pressure further, wrapping her right arm about the throat of her new foe and using the other to lock the girls head in place. With a Sleeper Hold now solidly secured upon a grounded Sammie, the end was surely in sight. The slight frame of the Bright Eyed Wonder turned rigid for several moments before she slumped, her boneless body rocked slowly back and forth as her eyelids fluttered shut.
Rue Ann exerted further pressure as if to just make her point before the Official could move in, noting that Sinclair was unresponsive, regardless of the urgings of the Legionnaire’s watching. The man in black and white raised her limp right arm up, and it dropped lifelessly...
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRI...NO!!
Sammie’s eyes began to slowly reopen as her palm hovered midway in the air, refusing to topple to the canvas for the third and final time. She began to struggle, the small brunette huffing as much as she was able, the Loyalists in attendance beating a frantic, three beat rhythm for their heroine as she struggled her way desperately towards the closest set of ring ropes, the Upstart Nation anthem for war!
“Oh, my God,” Rue snaps with annoyance. “Really? We're doing this rallying crap?” The hillbilly palms the mat, releasing the sleeper hold, and tightens her vice lock her legs have on Sammie. “Come ON! Let's get to the good part, where you're naked and face down in my boobs!”
The battling Brit squeaks as she's crushed further but sends a few choice elbows behind herself, right into Rue Ann's ribs. This does little but antagonize the Kentucky nightmare to squeeze harder, forcing a long, shocked moan from Sammie's throat that will surely be remixed for nefarious purposes by YouTubers for years to come. Still, Sinclair is far from out. Reaching behind her, she cups MacKenna in the back of the head and slams her own head into Rue's face. Once, twice, third time's the charm. The ginger releases her scissor hold and rolls backwards, cupping her face.
Sammie stands on unsteady legs, rubbing her waist and glaring at her opponent. MacKenna is still distracted, seeing stars, so the Princess steadies herself against the ring topes for just a moment before launching forwards for a renewed Sammie Kick!
The strike seems to lack its usual conviction however, and Rue Ann's vision clears just in time to see the boot aimed at her jaw coming, and crisply caught the athletic stem. Tossing it aside and forcing the Leader of the Upstart Nation into a spiral, the red head grasped the spent young woman by her wrist and, after a dominant YANK!! whipped her spritely frame towards the furthest set of ring ropes.
Launched into a sprint, Sinclair turned about at the last moment and threw herself into them across her back, bracing for the recoil. Like a willing ally, the coils pulled taunt and sprung her back into the ring at even greater speeds, eyes of baby brown clearing a little further as she zeroed in on her opponent.
McKenna stepped forwards to connect with a brutal clothesline, but Sammie was having none of it, not as she neatly dipped beneath the scything limb and carried straight on over to the opposite set of ring ropes. The Legionnaires were daring to find their voices again as their heroine eluded capture, Sinclair rebounding off the coils for a second time.
Only Rue Ann was prepared for her return, grinning with feral anticipation as she sidestepped Sinclair’s charge briskly and scooped her Rival’s spritely frame clean off the canvas as though she weighed nothing. Effortlessly uprooted and ready to be planted by way of Sidewalk Slam, Sammie appeared to be in a poor position. Only momentum was a bytch and, much to the red heads astonishment, the Tiny Titan’s miniature mass just continued going, swinging upwards like a pendulum in Rue Ann’s seemingly restrictive grasp until the brunettes beguiling stems SNAPPED!! tight about McKenna’s surprised head!
Releasing her (utterly endearing, not at all intimidating) war cry, the resurgent Sinclair WHIPPED her upper body about to keep that pendulum going and, with Rue Ann’s eyes open wide, YANKED the farm girl down face first to the canvas by way of a Headscissor Takedown.
Headscissor Takedown: @1:00
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tkVbjswarPw
Unwilling to allow her victory slip away, even with features throbbing from the enforced impact with several sheets of plywood, the indignant McKenna was back on her feet quickly, rubbing her own nose furiously. Unfortunately for her, Sammie was as equally unwilling to allow her fragile third wind to do likewise, finding her own feet just a fraction a moment later.
It proved to be swift enough, the English Import of Perfectly Petite Proportions striking out once again with a shapely stem, burying the sole of her sapphire boot DEEP into the toned tummy of the red head opposite. Rue Ann GUFFED! out a loud gasp, taking her turn to feel breathless as she was forced to fold forwards.
Sinclair wasn’t waiting, not even looking back as the FAWNatics WHOOPED with renewed joy, feeling the momentum shifting, their heroine now sprinting towards the ropes under her own momentum. She rebounded swiftly and, just before she would connect with opponent, opted instead to take flight, the Gladiatrix Photographers just as eager to capture the moment as the small brunette leapt into a beguiling forward sault. It wasn’t all for show however, one delightful stem weaponised for the occasion and, as gravity took hold, she brought the back of her thigh down HARD across the back of her foes head.
STILL she wasn’t finished, not even as the red head was planted right back down into the canvas and rolled painfully onto her back. Sammie was back on her feet again in no time, resurging as only a Babyface could, sprinting towards the opposite set of ring ropes as the FAWNatics lost their collective sh*t. Rebounding off them, Sinclair dived into a beautiful forward roll before finding her feet and leaping, her miniature mass tucking in tight before she spread out to land atop her reeling opponent with a delightful Splash!
Sammie Surge!: @4:44
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xr9zoCHZBEw&t=417s
Even Rue Ann’s solid mass was forced to fold beneath the plummeting brunette, and as the red heads sturdy stems kicked up, the Upstart Supreme captured one for good luck, securing for herself a fresh pin.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOO!!
McKenna not only kicked free, but she all but THREW the smaller girl right off her, Sinclair sent tumbling across the canvas.
Neither young woman was swift to get back up this time and, for the FAWNatics, the elation from just moments before switched rapidly to concern. Sinclair’s reserves had seemingly been spent on one last explosion, and now she was ripe for exploitation as she struggled to begin rising, the shaky Rue Ann far more assertive in her own ascent.
“Alright, fine,” Rue Ann groused as she massaged the side of her own jaw, “feel better? Good, because now we’re don...”
McKenna didn’t finish her sentence, utterly unable to do so in fact as, when she zeroed in on the weak kneed Sammie, the Little Sparrow spun her entire frame about with one last cry! The Spinning Sammie Kick!! whipped around with brutal efficiency and SLAMMED the heel of the girls sapphire boot flush against the cheek of the astonished red head.
Rue Ann spun a full one eighty and, before her brain could catch back up with what had just happened, Sinclair tucked in close behind her and secured a solid Belly to Back Suplex. Positively ROARING with as much effort as she was able, Sammie took a play out of her girlfriends playbook and uprooted the stronger young women clean off her feet, swinging her up and over before PLANTING McKenna across the back of her own shoulders.
Sammie Suplex: @3:36
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nv7WCrF8DyQ&t=4s
The red head slumped as the brunette bridged her trim tummy towards the rafters, securing a fresh pinfall, the Official dropping swiftly to the canvas.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
Sammie slumped in paralysed relief as she released of the shell-shocked McKenna, the Kentucky girl flopping over onto her side as the brunette who had just barely secured victory lay equally as exhausted. The last thing Sinclair wanted to do right now was get back up, but after considerable prompting from the Official, and the deafening encouragement from the fans watching, the People’s Princess willingly found the will to do so, struggling upwards back up onto her feet.
The roars of approval increased in tempo as the Official raised her hand in victory and the relieved, freckled Sammie smiled back sweetly, determination the only thing keeping her on boot leather.
“WORLD’S BEST BRIT! WORLD’S BEST BRIT! WORLD’S BEST BRIT!” the Legionnaires returned to chanting, echoing the earlier sentiment, and it was with a swelling in her chest that the young woman acknowledged it. She nodded in return, holding both of her hands up high, knowing full well that a day would not go by in which she wouldn’t have to earn it.
But that was tomorrow, today she was just thankful to be home.
GOOD TIME
www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_56H2DJct0
As the music hit, it was impossible to harbour thoughts of misgivings, its peppiness familiar and enticing, the promise that it made uncompromising, the Globe Trotting Heroine always returning to her home in FAWN!
The moment Samantha Sinclair appeared on stage, that was when the FAWNatics truly lost their sh*t, the Leader of the Upstart Nation sporting a new soundtrack and standing as tall as her perfectly petite mass would allow her, catching the light in all the right places as she whipped both her arms up high and waved. Five foot four and one hundred and ten pounds of athletically sculptured, miniature might, Sammie Sinclair was every inch the People’s Princess as she cheered back, shimmering in her golden/yellow attire with her dimple, freckled cheeks flushing a delightful shade of crimson.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
Sporting her ever familiar ensemble, family colours bright and on show, Sinclair’s identity was impossible to confuse. Her sports bra remained the same, smoothly curved about her small, proud bosom, leaving her softly sculptured tummy bare and her upraised arms the same way. About her hips snugly sat short skirt which, with a generous slit running up the right side, revealed a wonderful shot of her firm thigh as the baby brown eyed darling hopped up onto her tip toes and spiralled. Her boots were a bright blue and reached upwards to just beneath her kneecaps, tanned from firm leather and sporting lacing right up the front.
With the flourish of her spiral completed, the People’s Princess set her feet apart and kept her fingers wiggling heavenwards, nodding to her followers with a knowing smirk just before she lead them in her usual declaration of intent, a three beat mantra that the Legionnaires watching were always a part of. Once they were ready, she brought her hands together...
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
With her statement of intent made clear she pointed directly towards the squared circle, a hearty explosion of pyrokenetics erupting to either side of the stage that she was standing on. Samantha Sinclair was here and, with a joy induced skip she headed down the aisle at a swift sprint, the second generation superstar with chocolate curls bouncing free about her slender shoulders now a little older, a little wiser and a worthy inheritor of her Father’s legacy. The girl was now a young woman, and she was looking all the bolder for it.
Fearless? Perhaps not, but nerve?
She most defiantly had nerve.
The moment Sinclair reached the squared circle, the Golden Girl took her short detour right ways and, much to the delight of those who found themselves closet, Sammie began clapping every outstretched hand that she discovered, paying particular attention to the youngest in attendance. Beating a fast track around the ring, she soon found herself back at start, a run, skip and jump taking her clean up onto the apron. Grasping the top coil with both her paws, the Bright Eyed Wonder leaned back and, following a cheeky shake her pert buttocks, she shot right over the top rope with an applause worthy sault.
Landing lightly on her feet and clapping once more, she paused only to snag a microphone held out politely by the closest stage hand, his reward a quick smirk that was as sweet as it was endearing. The Loyalists in the audience, which was just about all of them, continued to rain down support even as their darling turned sharply on the spot, bringing her stick to her lips with a fresh smirk. Before she could say a word however, she was interrupted, the Legionnaires beginning a chant that was only building in momentum. Born into the business, the People’s Princess knew when it was best to just let them roll.
The FAWNatics didn’t need much encouragement, memories still fresh from the Little Sparrows most recent PPV’s at the Globe Spanning Promotion that was FAWN. Be it either her emergence as the winner of a Fatal Four Way contest in which she won a converted ‘title’ in the federation that the crowd were now chanting, or the duplicity she had suffered at the hands of her former tag team partner, the Red Headed Hellcat, Elizabeth Cromwell, promptly ending their alliance. The World’s Best Brits had been undone, but one still remained as far as the FAWNatics were concerned...
“WORLD’S BEST BRIT! WORLD’S BEST BRIT! WORLD’S BEST BRIT!”
Sammie’s heartbreaking smile grew only wider, freckled cheeks tinting a bashful crimson.
“Awwwww,” Sinclair’s features grew only redder, “you sure do know how to make a girl feel welcome! Might have to go on tour overseas more often!”
The reaction she received was a resounding “NO!!” and cries of good natured denial, Samantha herself a perfect picture of innocent surprise, for while the Loyalist Legionnaires’ of FAWN were fully prepared for their Little Sparrow to fly, they would much prefer that she do so in Orlando.
“No?” she replied, playing the crowd like a fiddle, the audience loving single minute of it.
“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” the countered, attempting to win her over with their ‘complex’ debate.
“Alright, fine,” she smirked, Sinclair clearly already having no intention of going anywhere else anytime soon, but there was never any harm in engaging her fanbase. “Then I guess I’ll stick around then! Besides this tummy,” she made of show of lightly tapping her softly sculpted tummy, the insinuation, “has been feeling a little bare for far too long, I figure it’s time I do something about that right?”
The roar she received in response was all the reply that she could need, her endearing grin back in place, the mic returning to her lips one last time.
“First things first though,” she turned back to the curtains, Sinclair’s smile fading as the Leader of the Upstart Nation turned her thoughts from future endeavours to the here and now.
“Baby wants her bottle...”
With the crowd just barely willing to calm back down, and Sammie prepping herself in her chosen corner, he continued with proceedings.
“Her opponent this evening,” the he boomed, “hailing from Bath County, Kentucky… RUE ANN MACKENNA!”
BURY THEM DEEP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_kn2rtuc4o
The first few guitar chords of “Bury Them Deep” begin to strum and the arena lights dim. At the entrance ramp appears a shapely silhouette for a familiar redhead. Rue Ann wastes no time with theatrics though, and bursts through – her bare feel slapping on the arena floor. She is adorned in her usual black singlet, cut to below her navel. Her ample cleavage is concealed, for once, with a white t-shirt adorned with red lettering: “Princesses Are Meant to be Overthrown.” The insinuation isn't lost on the FAWNatics, either, and the boos are endless.
RUE ANN MCKENNA
Rue smiles at the sound, drinking it in.
But some FAWNatics are happy to see her. Some hoping she'll wipe the smug goodness off of Sammie's face, others hoping to see a glimpse of the Rue Ann who showed kindness and sportsmanship against Crimson. As she nears the ring Rue strips the shirt off and tosses it to a fan. She hops the ring's skirt and slides between the ropes. She eyes up Sammie and blows her a kiss. She looks at the referee and gestures to the mic in Sinclair's hand. The official makes a “me get it?” gesture.
“Do you honestly trust me to approach an opponent before a match?” Rue Ann asks.
The referee doesn't need to answer. He approaches the People's Princess and takes the microphone, bringing it back to the hillbilly. Rue Ann fiddles with the microphone, wiping it down as if she can remove all of the British that's touched it. She blows into the mic’s head and feedback barrels through the arena. Fans, ref, and Sammie wince. Rue almost looks embarrassed, fiddling with it again. She raises it to speak, but no words are amplified.
The fans begin to laugh as Rue shakes the mic, as if sound is stuck in it. Again, feedback and everyone winces. By this time, Sammie is getting impatient and crosses her arms in her corner. Rue raises the mic to her lips finally, takes in a deep breath…
And flings the mic across the ring with amazing precision!!
If this were a knife, if would have embedded itself into Sammie's forehead. However, it's a blunt object and it, instead, beans the Brit between the peepers. Sinclair instinctively clutches her forehead and yelps. As she does, Rue Ann plows across the ring and buries a shoulder into Sinclair's midsection. Sammie's back slams against the turnbuckles. Before she can react, though, Rue Ann palms the back of her head and shoves her forward over an outstretched leg. Sinclair falls, but catches herself with her hands.
As the bell frantically rings, Rue grabs a fistful of Sammie's hair and pulls her up. “Welcome back, princess,” Rue hisses. She raises an elbow to drop into the top of Sinclair's skull. “Just in time to be crowned!”
Sinclair’s peepers were still fluttering in stunned confusion when Rue grabbed a fistful of her chocolate curls, dragging the winded young women up onto her knees by her roots. Blindsided, she never the less raised her right arm upwards to vaguely fend off some manner of offence, but with the Upstart disorientated, such efforts were futile at best.
With the point of Rue’s elbow driven home with cruel efficiency, Sammie’s noggin bobbed sharply from the blunt force trauma, her right arm dropping almost as soon as she had raised it, her palm pawing at the other girl’s firm hip.
The fans are horrified by the display and jeer, which feeds Rue more and more. She raises her hands like a dictator, beckoning more hate from the subjects. She looks down at Sammie. “You didn't go all the way down. I'm impressed. Of course, if that's a habit, my sympathies to your lady.” Rue Ann kicks Sammie across the jaw, laying her out on her side.
Rue Ann drops to her butt behind Sammie and grabs one of the Princess's calves. Grabbing a handful of tresses as well, Rue pulls her captured Sammie bits back while placing a foot in the middle of her back. The referee sets into an immediate count, getting all the way to four almost immediately. Rue Ann releases the hair but not the leg, glaring at the ref. “HEY! Fast counts are only when they benefit me!”
“Sportsmanship is of a benefit to everyone,” he croaks.
Rue glares, and the referee remembers Rue losing to Crimson when she played by the rules. He nervously tugs at his collar as Rue rises. “Come on, Princess.” She grabs Sammie's locks to pull her up for a hairmare. “You're late for the ball.”
The waylaid Samantha released the smallest of groans as she was yanked up by her curls once more, forced to trot in a small half circle on uncertain stems before the red head threatened to toss her right back down onto the canvas. That was until her Sinclair resolve kicked in, the Little Sparrow not prone to wilting under a little pressure, the young women waiting for her moment before she stood before her opponent.
“I’m never late,” she retorted, reaching out with both arms and palming the back of Rue Ann’s neck. Dropping to her knees and falling sharply, gravity became her ally as she tucked her own head in tight, aiming to catch the loudmouth with a stunning Jawbreaker!
Sammie slams to the mat and rattles all of Rue's fillings. The Hillbilly Nightmare stumbles back before landing on her but like a stunned toddler. MacKenna laughs, though, rubbing her mouth. “This might be worth having gotten out of bed fo--” Rue doesn't finish the sentence. A boot across the mouth interrupts her. Sinclair may be tiny but she packs a wallop, and Rue splays out from the impact.
The fans rally again, seeing their beloved hero return with fight. Rue Ann is noticeably less thrilled.
MacKenna pushes herself up slowly, shaking her head. “Okay, now you're just annoying,” Rue grumbles. “Am I gonna have to clip your wings?”
The question receives no verbal answer, which isn't shocking. Rue's used to FAWN's fighters not being a chatty as her, with the exception of Trixie. But Rue briefly wonders if Sammie hit her harder than she realized as she seems to be seeing double. A split second too late, she realizes what she sees is two boot bottoms aimed at her face as Sinclair flies off the ropes in a missile dropkick.
The ‘WOOP!” from the Legionnaires was almost as loud as the SMACK!! of leather meeting features as Rue Ann recoiled from the impact as though shot. Knocked flat from the assault, she was soon joined on the canvas by the perpetrator of the assault, the bright eyed Sinclair rolling over onto her back.
Blinking several times, as if only now regaining her bearings, the People’s Princess inhaled a deep breath, swung up her athletic stems skywards, rolled up onto her slender shoulders and positively LAUNCHED her perfectly petite frame right up to standing with FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up!! The crowd POPPED! upon witnessing the familiar sight, a rallying cry for her supporters for the most Babyfaced of Brits.
“If it’s any consolation Mackenna, if you choice to stay down” Sinclair attempted to sound as intimidating as possible, before shooting back off for the ropes. This time she met them with a hop, her feet effortlessly finding the middle rope in unison, a shout on her lips as she used the taunt coil as a springboard. Leaping into a beguiling arc, Sammie glided through the air, preparing to connect with a Lionsault.
“I won’t think any less of you!”
Sammie's lionsault is textbook, slamming across Rue and shaking the ring. The official falls to begin the pin count.
ONE…
But before two, Sinclair is hoisted and tossed from Rue's body like a sack of potatoes. It's a quick reminder that the mountain girl is a bit stronger than her tiny stature shows. Still, it's a bit humbling for Rue to even have a one count so early.
“You sound like a kitten making ultimatums,” Rue Ann laughs, but then ponders her own tiny voice. This time, the laugh is genuine as she rises to her feet. “I probably shouldn't talk on that.” The moment is so genuine and honest, it actually catches the Golden Girl off-guard for a moment. That's all Rue Ann needs to slam a mighty, open-palm across Sammie's chest. The crack sounds light lightening and the Princess actually stumbles back, clutching the impact. But Sinclair isn't a wilting flower and slams a palm across Rue's breasts. Rue, however, doesn't stumble back and her large rack takes the hit.
KRACK! Rue hammers down on Sinclair's chest with another chop, nearly knocking her on her back. The Brit bucks up, gritting her teeth, and returns another chop.
Again, aside from a boob jiggle and a smirk from Rue, there was no noticeable reaction. Rue pulls back and sends a third chop...
But this time, Sammie is prepared. Sinclair side-stepping and grabbing Rue's by the wrist. Using momentum, Sammie manages to judo throw Rue Ann to the mat.
MacKenna lands on her stomach. But Sammie doesn't release the wrist, instead dropping to her knees in Rue's back while twisting the arm up to her shoulder blades. The official drops to the mat to check for a submission. Rue Ann shakes her head, instead palming the mat and slowly dragging herself and Sammie closer to the bottom rope.
Sinclair didn’t much like the look of that, the slight frame of the Former Lightweight Champion proving inefficient to keep the malcontent beneath her nailed to the canvas. Opting not to take on this particular losing battle she pivoted, retaining her grip of her opponent’s twisted limb as she found her feet, and used the painful torque of Rue Ann’s shoulder to force the other young women up onto her feet.
With the red head hissing, Sinclair twisted the captured limb further, folding it up behind the other girls back in a tight Chickenwing, more than a few of the Legionnaires watching detecting the tutor liege of one Wendy Smith. “Remind me Rue,” the Bright Eyed Wonder couldn’t help but display the smallest smirk, her tone betraying nothing but determined sincerity, “is this the part where I would fold like a paper bag?”
Releasing her hold, not waiting for an answer, Samantha shoved MacKenna forwards. It was little more than a step or two, the red heads base far too sturdy, but it was more than enough room for Sinclair to steal a further pace backwards herself, and wind up for a blistering Sammie Kick!! to an adversaries jaw.
The boot cracks against Rue's jaw and the ginger falls flat on her back. Sammie sighs in relief as she closes in on the chesty villain, reaching down to grab her. However, as much as the kick hurt, it didn't take Rue out of the fight. A heel of a bare foot slams up between Sammie's thighs into her holiest of holies. Her lips round into a perfect “O” shape and Sinclair crumples forward, clutching her crotch. She doesn't fall to her knees but Sammie crouches, catching her breath.
Rue looks up, clutching her jaw, and smiles. “THAT is where you fold like a paper bag.” Rue tucks her knees to her chest and slams both feet, like a mule, into Sammie's face. The fan favourite spills backwards.
Rue stands, shaking out the cobwebs. “I'll give you this, you're better at grappling than I expected,” Rue says. “You also got some strong legs, lady. You deserve more credit than some folks give you.”
MacKenna kicks Sinclair onto her belly. “And since I know you can take it.” Rue pulls Sammie's leg up for a Boston Crab. As she locks it in place, she raises one of her feet and aims it over Sammie's groin. “Let's put the pedal to the metal.”
The Boston Crab alone was enough to illicit a groan from the momentarily paralysed Sinclair, but the STOMP!! to her most private region forced out a GASP!! from the Bright Eyed Wonder. With her free leg spasming, the shapely stem kicking out against the canvas, Sammie bucked from head to toe, firm buttocks clenching as her vindictive rival groooooound her heel in deeper. Sinclair continued to shiver as she shut her eyes tighter, her cheek against the mat as she clenched her fists tightly, biting on her bottom lip in an attempt to hold in a whimper. Rue Ann only took that as encouragement to rotate her heel more sharply, driving her weight down fully onto one of the most sought out possessions in FAWN.
“What do you say Sammie?” the Official enquired, prepared to end it.
The Most Prolific of the Sinclair’s opened her mouth slightly... but only to mouth a refusal. Gritting her teeth, the petite brunette inhaled sharply, pushing up onto her elbows and, inch by painful inch, began her own journey to the closest set of ring ropes.
Rue looks back at Sammie, seeing her desperately inch towards the ropes. “Oh, hey,” MacKenna says, “remember when I tried that?” Rue Ann releases the trapped leg and falls backwards, twisting her torso enough to drive an elbow into the back of Sammie's neck. The People's Princess slams into the mat with a groan.
Rue Ann hops up, reinvigorated by the turn of events, and pulls Sammie to her feet by her hair. SLAM! Rue drives a fist into Sammie's belly, folding her. The Kentucky Menace forces the Princess to stand up straight before sling shooting her into the ropes, catching her with an outstretched arm across the neck on the rebound.
Sammie starts to fall backwards but Rue Ann grabs the swiftly ragdolled young women by her top's neckline and pulls her back to her feet, also somehow managing not to expose Sinclair's goods. Again, the slings Sammie into the ropes. The Upstart's fans brace for another clothesline but this time Rue Ann lets Sinclair slam, face first, into her cleavage.
As Sammie starts to stumble backwards, Rue Ann reaches behind her and grabs both of her wrists. The Hillbilly Hellion crosses Sinclair's wrists and pulls them tight, driving the Brit close to her warm body. With the wrists crossed and locked, Rue Ann engulfs Sammie in a tight face-to-face bearhug, lifting her off her feet. The pain is instant as Rue Ann, curvy and top-strong, constricts her prey close to her large breasts.
“This isn't so bad, is it?” Rue Ann coos. “Come on. You're cute. I'm cute.” Rue Ann winks as she grinds herself into the trapped wrestler. “I mean, I know you prefer Dunbars but you two aren't exclusive, right? Know what, don't say anything yet. Take some time to think on it.” Rue pulls her arms up, wrenching Sammie's wrists higher, while trying to lower Sinclair into a waiting bearhug-smother combo.
The Leader of the Upstart Nation could scarcely do more than moan as her new rival asserted emphatic dominance, tightening her coils with each moment. She tried to keep her eyes focused on her opponents, fighting to remain defiant, but as her peepers began to slowly flutter, they looked anything but. The toes of her boots circled lazily a good inch off the canvas, unable to find purchase, and a fresh, viciously firm pulse from the red heads powerful biceps caused her spine to spasm and her legs to pop open, shapely stems bucking to lift and wrap around her foes rigid hips, exposing the inners of Sammie’s cool, firm thighs to the attentions of Rue Ann’s own, eager sex.
Sinclair “GASPED!”, brown eyes opening wide for just a moment before they fluttered back to half lidded, slender shoulders slumping as her spritely frame shuddered. She moaned, wiggling as best she could, fighting with diminishing reserves as they were bodily squeezed right out of her. “N...no,” she insisted, shaking her head slowly, “...no!”
She wrenched herself backwards, determined to deny Rue Ann the satisfaction of a smother, although the burst of effort seemed to sap her further, the beloved brunette’s noggin rolling backwards, exposing her throat like a wounded animal.
Rue giggles. “Oh, honey, if you're not ready, why didn't you say so? We can stick to foreplay for now.”
Rue pivots, aiming Sammie's back at a corner. She heaves Sinclair up and breaks into a run. MacKenna slams Sinclair into the turnbuckles like a train driving a doll into a brick wall. Upstart fans cry out in horror and anger to see Sammie handled so cruelly. But to Rue, it's not enough. There needs to be a bit of humiliation.
Rue Ann kneels down and drapes Sammie over her shoulders. Standing up, she raises Sinclair in a Gorilla Press to remind the fans – and Sammie – of her strength. She pumps the good girl up and down like it's a work out, then runs to the edge of the ring, making to hurl Sinclair in the audience.
Fans cry out, begging her not to.
Rue Ann laughs, turns and runs to the other side of the ring to mimic the same thing.
Again, fans plead.
Rue Ann instead lowers Sammie into a Fireman's Carry and walks to a nearby corner. Scaling to the top ropes, she eyes the metal stairs below. “I hope you've been doing your crunches, Princess,” Rue says as she adjusts her prisoner, “cuz this might hurt a tender tummy.” With that, MacKenna prepares to drop Sinclair out of the ring, onto the steps, with a Fireman's Carry Gutbuster.
Sammie, however, was not one you allowed time to recover, however fleeting as it may seem. As Rue Ann released enough of her hold to launch her idle cargo, the Tiny Titan took her opportunity to escape, wiggling free from her opponents intended trajectory and landing precariously with her boots braced on the top ropes, one either side of the turnbuckle.
As the FAWNatics gasped with hopeful surprise, Sinclair took advantage of the red heads befuddlement, tucking the stronger young woman into a tight, front headlock. She didn’t waste any time, knowing that she couldn’t keep her captive, and in a moment of heart skipping insanity, shoved her way clear from her perch, pivoting sharply through the air as she did so.
With a (not exactly intimidating) war cry, the petite brunette dragged her new rival right around with her, looking to yank her towards the distant canvas with a blistering, Avalanche Tornado DDT...
AVALANCHE TORNADO DDT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pn_aFBN6oE
Rue Ann collides with canvas in a heap, landing on her shoulders. Sinclair wastes no time dragging her to centre ring, ignoring her aches and pains as best she could before going for the pin.
ONE…
TWO…
T--
Rue Ann bucks, dislodging the former champ.
Most would be annoyed but Sammie seems more determined than ever. She leaps over Rue Ann's body in a handstand before dropping a knee into the Kentucky woman's gut.
Rue Ann tries to play off as though it doesn't hurt but no one buys her no sell. MacKenna shoves Sinclair to the side and pushes herself up, but the legacy fighter is already on her feet and jumps onto the redhead's back. Cupping her knees under Rue Ann's chin, Sammie drives her knees into the villain's back in a sort of lungblower from behind.
Rue Ann stumbles forward, falling at the base of a ringpost. Turning over, she looks up just in time to see Sinclair coming in for a landing, slamming across her chest for a Bronco Buster. The fans cheer wildly as Sammie rides the bucking bronco, noticing a LOT more padding than normal thanks to all the chest Rue's mama gave her.
Sammie seems to be having a fine time until, suddenly; she looks horrified and bolts off of Rue Ann. She wipes her hands under her gold skirt, glaring at Rue Ann.
The hillbilly grins. “Oh, so Trixie's the only one who gets to have fun in the ring?” She smacks her lips. “Not my preferred flavour, but I feel I understand Wendy a little better now.”
Sammie's eyes narrow. “Well, if you really wanted a taste--” As Rue Ann stumbles up, Sammie slings herself onto MacKenna for a Hurricanrana.
Taking flight, just as she had done a hundred times before, Sinclair snapped her limber lower limbs about the noggin of the red head, snapping her spritely frame about in a wild spiral. The Legionnaires popped as their Heroine embraced momentum, ripping MacKenna off her own balance, dragging her into a wild stumble that resulted in the powerhouse slamming her forehead against the top turnbuckle once released.
With Rue Ann blinking and cursing into a backwards stumble, the English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions was back on her feet in a flash, riding her second wind as only a Babyface could. Saddling up behind the much strong woman, the brunette was set on proving that a little leverage could offset her own shortcomings, circling her arms about the red heads tummy.
“Only one woman gets the goods, Rue Ann,” Sammie promised, bracing her own stems and preparing to rip her new Rival up and over with a Belly to Back Suplex, “and your sure as heck are no Wendy Smith!!”
Rue's shoulders slam into the mat, but the ref doesn't even drop to count before she rolls to the side. Both women hop up.
“You're right,” Rue yells, more aggressive in her ascent, grabbing Sammie by the neckline again. “I'm better!” She punctuates it with a headbutt. Sammie seems dazed but immediately snaps back and grabs Rue by the black straps of barely-there singlet.
“I doubt it!” she bellows, returning the headbutt to Rue. Both women stumble back, shaking the cobwebs out.
Rue returns with a roundhouse kick, but Sammie flips backwards in a style that would make the choreographers of the Matrix proud, catching herself on her hands while kicking her own legs up. She manages to boot Rue Ann under the chin, the redneck stumbling backwards, before Sinclair landed back on her own feet.
As Rue teeters off balance, Sammie bounds herself off of the ropes and tries to spear into Rue Ann.
Unfortunately for her, MacKenna is still built pretty stable and manages to catch her as the Brit puts a shoulder in her gut. Rue Ann clamps a headlock around Sammie's neck. The Golden Girl, refusing to give up control, decides to test how limber she is by throwing a kick backwards towards Rue's surprised features.
The Scorpion Kick was not only beguiling to witness, it also connected the sole of Sinclair’s blue boot to the features of her foe, the Legionnaires rallying to their heroines cause with ever greater tempo. Rue Ann backpedalled, frustrated by unfolding events, leaning against the ring ropes as she shook free the cobwebs. As she pushed free from the coils, her opponent was already advancing, Sammie sprinting at a breakneck pace!
The Globe Trotting Heroine took flight once again, preparing to topple her top heavy foe by way of a sweet Lou Thesv Press...
Only for MacKenna to catch her in mid flight! A murmur of panic rippled throughout the arena as the Redhead wasted no time on ceremony, cupping the smaller brunette by her firm little buttocks and WHIPPING for forwards in a brutal Spinebuster!! Sammie’s back SMASHED against the canvas, forcing her to buck fiercely and sputter out a pained cry, the dazed young women shivering before she slumped winded, her arms spread open wide and her right leg pointed up at the knee.
Sliding forwards, Rue Ann laces her legs around Sammie's and slams her open talents onto her breasts, grabs and twisting the Brit's sweet meats while she lowers herself in a pin. The official falls to count.
ONE!…
TW--
Sammie bucks a shoulder up but doesn't fully dislodge Rue again.
MacKenna pulls Sammie to her feet by her chest, yanking her around like a helpless toy. But Sammie manages to pry a few claws out of her chest and bend them backwards, making Rue Ann relent on the claw hold.
Sinclair sends a kick to the side of Rue's leg, bending it downward, before whipping herself into the ropes behind her. Sinclair uses the momentum to launch into another dropkick, but she's not quite recovered from the Spinebuster and isn't close to full strength.
Rue Ann sees it coming by a mile, sidesteps, and catches Sammie mid flight. Shifting the Brit around, Rue Ann hoists Sammie up above her and falls backwards to catch her across the top rope with a Stungun.
STUNGUN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHPkP2HIFio
The cable bites into Sammie's neck and she crumples to the mat.
Rue Ann looks down, smiling. “That looks like it hurt. Might have done something to your neck.” She takes hold of Sammie's brown locks and pulls her from the ropes. Dragging her to the middle of the ring, Rue drops Sammie. “Let's have a look,” she purrs as she sits on Sammie's back and cups under her chin for a camel clutch.
As flexible as she was, the FAWNatics knew that their Heroine shouldn’t be able to curl that far backwards, her spine curling into a wicked looking C, the young woman shivering with scarcely contained pain. Sammie groooooaned as her spine protested, her moan low and persistent as her eyes fluttered, the vigour of the Upstart Supreme vanishing along with her stolen momentum. Her breathing became laboured as her small bosom was forcibly thrust outwards, the Gladiatrix Photographers more than happy to capture the moment as the crowd favourite’s arms dropped leaden, the toe of one boot kicking lightly against the canvas.
She shook her head slowly, as best she could, the only sign of defiance she could currently muster as the Official asked for her submission.
Rue Ann cranks the hold back a little more before finally releasing and letting Sammie snap to the mat. Most of the fans are screaming for Rue's blood, but a few in the front have a different cheer.
“STRIP HER! STRIP HER!” a handful of fans scream to Rue. Rue Ann shakes her head.
“Sorry, boys. She's taken.” Rue Ann looks into a camera, sauntering over with a wink. “Donna, her nudity will always belong to you as far as I'm concerned.” She looks back at Sammie's prone form and licks her lips. “But you can do a lot while keeping your clothing on. Youth Group taught me that.”
Rue Ann goes back towards the prone Sammie and snakes a hand under her skirt, caressing her thighs. “Now, hon, we're gonna have some real fun so you can see what you're missing.” Rue rolls Sammie onto her back and scoops her up, holding the Golden Girl upside down in a belly-to-belly bearhug. If Sammie weren't so spent, there's no way this would fly but, as is, Sinclair just hangs suspended from Rue's coiling arms, her mouth and nose bumping against Rue's womanhood. To the horror – or, in some cases, pleasure – Rue's tongue laps out randomly, flicking at Sammie's thighs, exposed by her skirt falling away. She parades and squeezes the former Lightweight Champ, earning fresh moans from her captive, before taking her to a corner and hanging Sammie upside down in a Tree of Woe
The referee begins an instant count but Rue Ann isn't deterred. As it turns out, she can get a LOT of belly punches in during four seconds, Sinclair groaning, flinching and capitulating a little more beneath each one. After the last of the flurry, Rue Ann turns around and looks enraged, pointing just past the ref. “Really, Wendy?! You want to go?!”
The official spins around to look for Sammie's avenging girlfriend. But she's not there. Rue grabs Sammie by the shoulders and pulls her up like a pendulum, ready to ring her bell.
Despite the protests from the Legionnaire’s, MacKenna is free to let loose, swinging the ragdolled Sinclair back down in a wicked whiplash motion. The brunette’s noggin SMACKS!! off the bottom turnbuckle and, with a violent shockwave rippling throughout her petite body, the shapely stems of the Little Sparrow loosen, inadvertently freeing her from her ‘tree’, and she bodily drops to the canvas.
After a few moments of indulging in the sight of her dominance, the Red Head is only mildly surprised to see a semblance of life remaining within the People’s Princess, the spritely young women raising her right hand and grasping the middle rope. With an audible groan, the yellow clad grappler dragged herself up slowly, eventually settling to sitting in her original corner, breathing heavily and pretty peepers half lidded.
Works for me, Rue Ann thinks to herself as she wraps her legs over the bottom ropes and shoves her crotch into the Princess's face. Technically, it's a Bronco Buster but it's more of a Bronco Grind, really. Sammie feels the barely sheathed outline of Rue Ann's sex rub all over her nose and lips, pressing down hard into her face.
Rue Ann locks her legs around the ringpost and crushes her crotch into Sammie's face for a smother. She gets a good half a minute before the official finally turns around and sees what's going on. A hasty count begins and Rue releases as five is reached, tumbling backwards like an acrobat and hopping up. Her face betrays frustration. “RUDE!” she bellows at the ref, pointing a finger. “I don't interrupt you when you're having a moment!” The hillbilly adjusts the crotch of her singlet to fully cover lest anything escape before pulling Sammie from the corner.
Rue pulls Sammie from the corner and slings to the mat again. Sitting on the back of Sinclair's head, Rue Ann pulls back Sammie's legs and stretches her torso out in a punishing Boston Crab. Sammie's skirt falls away to reveal her shapely thighs and blue undies. Rue Ann parts the legs, forcing the trapped fighter into splits, but focuses on what's between.
“Rue Ann,” the ref chides, “I've had enough. Low blow and you're DQed.”
Rue Ann feigns being hurt. “I'm not gonna hurt her!” She slides two fingers gently along Sammie's sex, caressing. “Does this look like it hurts?” The referee blushes a bit, but is forced to admit this isn't illegal. Not in FAWN, at least. He drops to his knees to check for submission. Sammie's eyes are remain unfocused as she bites her lower lip but shakes her head no. To Rue Ann, that just means apply pressure and quicken speed. Sammie violently refuses to submit. Rue Ann refuses to relent and this continues.
“Come on,” the referee says to MacKenna, obviously uncomfortable. “End this.”
“Oh? Should I? I can think of a way,” the redhead snickers.
The official becomes stern again suddenly. “No low blows.”
“No low blows,” Rue Ann assures, leaning forward. “But licks are legal, right?” Rue Ann lowers her lips to Sammie's groin and gently presses her tongue to just the right spot. Undies or not, the bulge of Sammie's eyes betray Rue knows what she's doing. The Golden Girl squirms, trying to pull away, but MacKenna takes Sammie's legs and tucks them tightly under her arms.
Sinclair grits her teeth, fighting desperately not to give Rue Ann the benefit of hearing any sounds of pleasure or even shock. Rue Ann seems more cantered on the task at hand, working her tongue and occasionally involving her fingers, but always staying outside of clothing.
The referee, turning a bright red, is unsure what to do. Technically Rue Ann isn't breaking rules. She's not hurting Sammie. Kind of the opposite. Finally, he kneels. “Sammie, do you submit?”
“Yes, Sammie,” Rue Ann adds, taking a break. “Do you submit to me?” She immediately sets back to her task.
“N-n-n-NO!” Sinclair blurts, shaking her head furiously. But her legs are trembling and the shake is moving working its way towards the rest of her body. Fans and Gladiatrix photographers alike a straining to get shots of this from every angle. But the only thing in Sammie's mind is a mingling of pain and overwhelming sensation. Then, she feels it. She's at the brink. She's almost there.
Rue Ann release her legs and lets Sammie flop to the mat, stopping just short of release. The hillbilly sits on the mat and pulls the Upstart in-between her thighs, locking on a body scissor. “Are you having fun, Sammie?” The gently presses her palms onto Sinclair's chest as she whispers into her ear, “Sure feels like you enjoyed that.”
The young women released a sharp “ugh!” as she was effortlessly captured once again, her trim tummy ruthlessly constricted between a pair of immensely powerful thighs. With each pulse from McKenna’s lower limbs, Sammie groaned, her own athletic legs spasming impotently as her head bobbled atop slender shoulders, her will sapped further with each new embrace.
“Bite me,” the Former Lightweight Champion remained defiant, one arm reaching for the ropes that lay several yards away.
“Soon enough,” Rue Ann promised with a malicious coo, opting to pile on the pressure further, wrapping her right arm about the throat of her new foe and using the other to lock the girls head in place. With a Sleeper Hold now solidly secured upon a grounded Sammie, the end was surely in sight. The slight frame of the Bright Eyed Wonder turned rigid for several moments before she slumped, her boneless body rocked slowly back and forth as her eyelids fluttered shut.
Rue Ann exerted further pressure as if to just make her point before the Official could move in, noting that Sinclair was unresponsive, regardless of the urgings of the Legionnaire’s watching. The man in black and white raised her limp right arm up, and it dropped lifelessly...
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRI...NO!!
Sammie’s eyes began to slowly reopen as her palm hovered midway in the air, refusing to topple to the canvas for the third and final time. She began to struggle, the small brunette huffing as much as she was able, the Loyalists in attendance beating a frantic, three beat rhythm for their heroine as she struggled her way desperately towards the closest set of ring ropes, the Upstart Nation anthem for war!
“Oh, my God,” Rue snaps with annoyance. “Really? We're doing this rallying crap?” The hillbilly palms the mat, releasing the sleeper hold, and tightens her vice lock her legs have on Sammie. “Come ON! Let's get to the good part, where you're naked and face down in my boobs!”
The battling Brit squeaks as she's crushed further but sends a few choice elbows behind herself, right into Rue Ann's ribs. This does little but antagonize the Kentucky nightmare to squeeze harder, forcing a long, shocked moan from Sammie's throat that will surely be remixed for nefarious purposes by YouTubers for years to come. Still, Sinclair is far from out. Reaching behind her, she cups MacKenna in the back of the head and slams her own head into Rue's face. Once, twice, third time's the charm. The ginger releases her scissor hold and rolls backwards, cupping her face.
Sammie stands on unsteady legs, rubbing her waist and glaring at her opponent. MacKenna is still distracted, seeing stars, so the Princess steadies herself against the ring topes for just a moment before launching forwards for a renewed Sammie Kick!
The strike seems to lack its usual conviction however, and Rue Ann's vision clears just in time to see the boot aimed at her jaw coming, and crisply caught the athletic stem. Tossing it aside and forcing the Leader of the Upstart Nation into a spiral, the red head grasped the spent young woman by her wrist and, after a dominant YANK!! whipped her spritely frame towards the furthest set of ring ropes.
Launched into a sprint, Sinclair turned about at the last moment and threw herself into them across her back, bracing for the recoil. Like a willing ally, the coils pulled taunt and sprung her back into the ring at even greater speeds, eyes of baby brown clearing a little further as she zeroed in on her opponent.
McKenna stepped forwards to connect with a brutal clothesline, but Sammie was having none of it, not as she neatly dipped beneath the scything limb and carried straight on over to the opposite set of ring ropes. The Legionnaires were daring to find their voices again as their heroine eluded capture, Sinclair rebounding off the coils for a second time.
Only Rue Ann was prepared for her return, grinning with feral anticipation as she sidestepped Sinclair’s charge briskly and scooped her Rival’s spritely frame clean off the canvas as though she weighed nothing. Effortlessly uprooted and ready to be planted by way of Sidewalk Slam, Sammie appeared to be in a poor position. Only momentum was a bytch and, much to the red heads astonishment, the Tiny Titan’s miniature mass just continued going, swinging upwards like a pendulum in Rue Ann’s seemingly restrictive grasp until the brunettes beguiling stems SNAPPED!! tight about McKenna’s surprised head!
Releasing her (utterly endearing, not at all intimidating) war cry, the resurgent Sinclair WHIPPED her upper body about to keep that pendulum going and, with Rue Ann’s eyes open wide, YANKED the farm girl down face first to the canvas by way of a Headscissor Takedown.
Headscissor Takedown: @1:00
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tkVbjswarPw
Unwilling to allow her victory slip away, even with features throbbing from the enforced impact with several sheets of plywood, the indignant McKenna was back on her feet quickly, rubbing her own nose furiously. Unfortunately for her, Sammie was as equally unwilling to allow her fragile third wind to do likewise, finding her own feet just a fraction a moment later.
It proved to be swift enough, the English Import of Perfectly Petite Proportions striking out once again with a shapely stem, burying the sole of her sapphire boot DEEP into the toned tummy of the red head opposite. Rue Ann GUFFED! out a loud gasp, taking her turn to feel breathless as she was forced to fold forwards.
Sinclair wasn’t waiting, not even looking back as the FAWNatics WHOOPED with renewed joy, feeling the momentum shifting, their heroine now sprinting towards the ropes under her own momentum. She rebounded swiftly and, just before she would connect with opponent, opted instead to take flight, the Gladiatrix Photographers just as eager to capture the moment as the small brunette leapt into a beguiling forward sault. It wasn’t all for show however, one delightful stem weaponised for the occasion and, as gravity took hold, she brought the back of her thigh down HARD across the back of her foes head.
STILL she wasn’t finished, not even as the red head was planted right back down into the canvas and rolled painfully onto her back. Sammie was back on her feet again in no time, resurging as only a Babyface could, sprinting towards the opposite set of ring ropes as the FAWNatics lost their collective sh*t. Rebounding off them, Sinclair dived into a beautiful forward roll before finding her feet and leaping, her miniature mass tucking in tight before she spread out to land atop her reeling opponent with a delightful Splash!
Sammie Surge!: @4:44
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xr9zoCHZBEw&t=417s
Even Rue Ann’s solid mass was forced to fold beneath the plummeting brunette, and as the red heads sturdy stems kicked up, the Upstart Supreme captured one for good luck, securing for herself a fresh pin.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOO!!
McKenna not only kicked free, but she all but THREW the smaller girl right off her, Sinclair sent tumbling across the canvas.
Neither young woman was swift to get back up this time and, for the FAWNatics, the elation from just moments before switched rapidly to concern. Sinclair’s reserves had seemingly been spent on one last explosion, and now she was ripe for exploitation as she struggled to begin rising, the shaky Rue Ann far more assertive in her own ascent.
“Alright, fine,” Rue Ann groused as she massaged the side of her own jaw, “feel better? Good, because now we’re don...”
McKenna didn’t finish her sentence, utterly unable to do so in fact as, when she zeroed in on the weak kneed Sammie, the Little Sparrow spun her entire frame about with one last cry! The Spinning Sammie Kick!! whipped around with brutal efficiency and SLAMMED the heel of the girls sapphire boot flush against the cheek of the astonished red head.
Rue Ann spun a full one eighty and, before her brain could catch back up with what had just happened, Sinclair tucked in close behind her and secured a solid Belly to Back Suplex. Positively ROARING with as much effort as she was able, Sammie took a play out of her girlfriends playbook and uprooted the stronger young women clean off her feet, swinging her up and over before PLANTING McKenna across the back of her own shoulders.
Sammie Suplex: @3:36
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nv7WCrF8DyQ&t=4s
The red head slumped as the brunette bridged her trim tummy towards the rafters, securing a fresh pinfall, the Official dropping swiftly to the canvas.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
Sammie slumped in paralysed relief as she released of the shell-shocked McKenna, the Kentucky girl flopping over onto her side as the brunette who had just barely secured victory lay equally as exhausted. The last thing Sinclair wanted to do right now was get back up, but after considerable prompting from the Official, and the deafening encouragement from the fans watching, the People’s Princess willingly found the will to do so, struggling upwards back up onto her feet.
The roars of approval increased in tempo as the Official raised her hand in victory and the relieved, freckled Sammie smiled back sweetly, determination the only thing keeping her on boot leather.
“WORLD’S BEST BRIT! WORLD’S BEST BRIT! WORLD’S BEST BRIT!” the Legionnaires returned to chanting, echoing the earlier sentiment, and it was with a swelling in her chest that the young woman acknowledged it. She nodded in return, holding both of her hands up high, knowing full well that a day would not go by in which she wouldn’t have to earn it.
But that was tomorrow, today she was just thankful to be home.