Post by EmmaWoods007 on Aug 10, 2018 8:38:21 GMT
One Month Ago…
SCARLET SINCLAIR
Scarlet wasn’t in the mood for visitors, facing the wall as she curled up on the uncomfortable bedding, the light hurting her eyes. She realised, of course, she didn’t have much a choice in the matter given where she had wound up yet again after drinks were had, heated words were exchanged, and she assumed fists were flown. Twenty years old, and she was already as familiar with her local Police Stations holding cells as she was her own room.
When her visitor cleared her throat, however, surprise alone was enough to make the miniature brunette roll over and sit up in surprise, painfully blinking several times just to make sure. She repressed a deep-seated groan as she met the look of disapproval from her elder sibling, the People’s Princess, Samantha Sinclair.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
“Sam,” she greeted, having the good sense to at least appear momentarily sheepish as her throat crocked and felt worryingly raw.
“Scarlet,” Sammie returned, sighing deeply as she unfolded her arms, evidently determined to extend an olive branch despite her mounting frustrations. “Do you have any idea how far I’ve had to fly to bail you out?”
The youngest of the two furrowed her brow in confusion, folding her own arms in response to her sister opening her own, stubbornly refusing to be cowed. “Where’s Mum?”
“Mum needs a break from you,” Sammie sighed again, looking all the world as though weight were being added to her shoulders. “And this,” the older sibling motioned vaguely about the holding cell she had paid good money to get her sister out of, “this is the last thing Dad needs to be worrying about. Three times in three weeks, this has to stop.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Scarlet grumbled, feeling resentful at the scolding, standing up and shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. “Just because you’re the oldest.”
“No,” Sammie agreed, internally fretting over how her little sister had come to this, and as to where it might lead. “I get to tell you what to do because I’m the tallest. Still don’t know how that’s the case.”
The two stood in uncomfortable silence, one unwilling to surrender ground, the other no longer sure how to do so. Once they had been so close…
“Well, did they have it coming?” Sammie asked, catching Scarlet in the back foot, the smallest of the two blinking in surprise. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, having the good sense to finally look just a little bit contrite.
“Alright then, we move on,” Sammie pulled her sister into a one armed hug, one the smaller of the two was far more reluctant to share, however perplexed she remained. “I packed you a bag.”
“A bag?” Scarlet blinked several times, truly flabbergasted by this turn of events, “What? Why?”
“I told you,” Sammie reminded her sister, pushing a backpack into her befuddled grasp. “Mum and Dad need a break from you, so now you’re my problem.”
“Your problem?” Scarlet questioned, pulling the bag over her shoulders.
“My problem, now come on,” Sammie turned about sharply, forcing the younger woman to keep pace, “I’m pointing that temper of yours in the right direction.”
**********
Now…
SCARLET SINCLAIR
DAISY LEMAY
When the Official asked Scarlet if she wanted to submit, she really, really, REALLY wanted to say yes, the diminutive brunette strapped over the right shoulder of the joyful Daisy LeMay by way of Canadian Backbreaker. The small of her back protested with a fresh pop and crack each and every time she was vindictively jostled up and down, the muscles in her back having long given up in trying to support the enforced, agonising arch of her spine, forcing her to hang limp as she was jostled this way and that. Both of her arms and legs hung limply high above the mat, her thighs and shoulders spasming in sympathy for the punishment being dished out upon her centre mass, the brown eyes of the petite young woman pressed closed as her parted lips released short, sharp groans of misery. The youngest of the Sinclair’s felt like she was about to be snapped in two across the shoulder joint of the giggling blonde who seemed intent on doing exactly that, a pair of hands strapped down hard across the trim tummy of the entrapped Scarlet, holding her in place.
She shivered from head to toe as she inhaled deeply, her bosom hiking as she felt the words of capitulation rising rapidly to her throat…
Scarlet didn’t get the chance to voice them, ‘saved’ from the ignominy of tapping out during her first match on TV by her own opponent of all people, LeMay dropping sharply to her knees with a delighted yip. The sudden drop and, more to the point, the squally sudden stop all but snapped Sinclair’s already abused back into a brutally painful arch, the Rookies cry soundless as her eyes snapped open wide and a savage jolt ran the entire length of her petite mass, the young woman momentarily insensible as she was shrugged dismissively to the canvas, puddling across her front in a sweaty heap.
By comparison, the pink clad, Babyface Pretender looked positively radiant, curls bouncing as she hopped back up onto her feet, performing a merry skip about the ring as if the audience were chanting her name. In reality they were doing nothing of the sort, the FAWNatics having seen through the buxom blonde years ago, her cherub cheeks and butter wouldn’t melt persona a flimsy façade for the corner cutting, backstabbing, conniving opportunist beneath. Not that she seemed to much care, LeMay enjoying herself far too much to give single damn about what people were actually saying, living in her own world as often as she did the real one.
Having completed her self indulgent circle of the ring, she came to a stop with both a hop and a skip right back next to the fallen Scarlet, leaning forwards with her hands tucked behind her back as she tilted her head just so.
“Aww, what’s the matter Stumpy Sinclair?” she cooed with mock concern, the smaller brunette, shivering in pain, struggling to push herself back up onto her hands and knees. “Feeling a little bit sore, a little bit redundant? It really must suck to be third in line.”
When Scarlet didn’t answer, Daisy’s beatific expression switched swiftly into a petulant snarl and she positively STAMPED her right boot down on Sinclair’s unprotected fingers, flattening them against the mat!!
The smaller brunette YELPED as she recoiled away from the cruel stomp, shooting up to kneeling as she clutched her wounded paw close to her chest, feeling her fingers throb following the impact.
Daisy slapped her about the back of her head for such an undignified display, grabbing two claw holds of the young women’s hair for good measure as she began yanking her back up to vertical. “Speak when spoken to,” LeMay chided, tugging and pulling all the while, “you Brits are supposed to be polite!”
Scarlet, however, took exception to the slap, short temper flaring with a scrunching of her forehead and flaring of her nose, the diminutive scrapper reaching up without warning and grabbing the startled blonde about the back her head with both hands. Sinclair dropped, this time voluntarily, falling to her own knees and dragging the noggin of her opponent right along with her, DRIVING Daisy’s chin right onto the crown of her noggin, the CRACK!! of the impromptu Jawbreaker heard by everyone in the front rows.
Daisy shot back up to standing as though she had been struck by lightning, blinking rapidly as her brain struggled to catch back up with reality, the FAWNatics popping as they witnessed the unfolding reversal in fortunes.
Scarlet didn’t hear them, not with the blood pumping in her ears, not as she stood back up and her heart beat furiously inside of her chest, not as she bulled through her own aches and pains and grabbed the reeling LeMay by two fistfuls of her blonde curls, returning the earlier favour.
A Bytch got treated how a Bytch behaved.
Sinclair jumped, spreading her diminutive stems out wide into a V as she forcibly YANKED!! down hard on her duel handholds, ripping the panicked Daisy right off her feel and sent her sailing features first towards the canvas, the Sit Out Facebuster planting LeMay emphatically against the deck with a plywood flexing ‘THUNK!!”
86’d
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ORkycckLLE
While Scarlet hit the canvas with a not entirely comfortable drop to her buttocks, Daisy’s faceplant could very well be all that she wrote. The blonde jack knifed from the collision right back up onto her knees before she teetered and flopped right back down to whence she came, her noggin bouncing to a stop between Sinclair’s spread open thighs.
The miniature brunette didn’t pause to bask in the accolades of her newly minted supporters, most of which were still racing to catch up with the rapid change in events themselves, and instead immediately shovelled the shipwrecked LeMay over onto her back. Scarlet hooked both legs of opponent and curled her up into a tight ball, pink clad buttocks pointed towards the rafters, flash photography not missing out on the moment as Sinclair secured for herself a pin.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
Scarlet let go of her opponents’ pliant stems the moment the bell rang and lay back exhausted over the top of the shell-shocked blonde. Only after the Officials prompting did the fatigued young woman drag herself back up to standing, her dander still up as the man in black and white raised her right arm.
The FAWNatics in attendance at the small venue were in high spirits, eager to get behind the little sister of the People’s Princess, and she had to admit, if only to herself, those cheers did make her feel a little better…
That being said, as Daisy began rolling over close by, painfully rising to her hands and knees, it was all Scarlet could do to resist STOMPING down hard on the other girls exposed fingers. Her own digits still stung like a mother f*cker, and she was eager for the blonde to understand the source of her distemper.
She didn’t however, the youngest of the Sinclair’s swallowing her resentment, doing her best to keep it bottled up inside. The match was over, and she was trying really hard to behave…
SCARLET SINCLAIR
Scarlet wasn’t in the mood for visitors, facing the wall as she curled up on the uncomfortable bedding, the light hurting her eyes. She realised, of course, she didn’t have much a choice in the matter given where she had wound up yet again after drinks were had, heated words were exchanged, and she assumed fists were flown. Twenty years old, and she was already as familiar with her local Police Stations holding cells as she was her own room.
When her visitor cleared her throat, however, surprise alone was enough to make the miniature brunette roll over and sit up in surprise, painfully blinking several times just to make sure. She repressed a deep-seated groan as she met the look of disapproval from her elder sibling, the People’s Princess, Samantha Sinclair.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
“Sam,” she greeted, having the good sense to at least appear momentarily sheepish as her throat crocked and felt worryingly raw.
“Scarlet,” Sammie returned, sighing deeply as she unfolded her arms, evidently determined to extend an olive branch despite her mounting frustrations. “Do you have any idea how far I’ve had to fly to bail you out?”
The youngest of the two furrowed her brow in confusion, folding her own arms in response to her sister opening her own, stubbornly refusing to be cowed. “Where’s Mum?”
“Mum needs a break from you,” Sammie sighed again, looking all the world as though weight were being added to her shoulders. “And this,” the older sibling motioned vaguely about the holding cell she had paid good money to get her sister out of, “this is the last thing Dad needs to be worrying about. Three times in three weeks, this has to stop.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Scarlet grumbled, feeling resentful at the scolding, standing up and shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. “Just because you’re the oldest.”
“No,” Sammie agreed, internally fretting over how her little sister had come to this, and as to where it might lead. “I get to tell you what to do because I’m the tallest. Still don’t know how that’s the case.”
The two stood in uncomfortable silence, one unwilling to surrender ground, the other no longer sure how to do so. Once they had been so close…
“Well, did they have it coming?” Sammie asked, catching Scarlet in the back foot, the smallest of the two blinking in surprise. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, having the good sense to finally look just a little bit contrite.
“Alright then, we move on,” Sammie pulled her sister into a one armed hug, one the smaller of the two was far more reluctant to share, however perplexed she remained. “I packed you a bag.”
“A bag?” Scarlet blinked several times, truly flabbergasted by this turn of events, “What? Why?”
“I told you,” Sammie reminded her sister, pushing a backpack into her befuddled grasp. “Mum and Dad need a break from you, so now you’re my problem.”
“Your problem?” Scarlet questioned, pulling the bag over her shoulders.
“My problem, now come on,” Sammie turned about sharply, forcing the younger woman to keep pace, “I’m pointing that temper of yours in the right direction.”
**********
Now…
SCARLET SINCLAIR
DAISY LEMAY
When the Official asked Scarlet if she wanted to submit, she really, really, REALLY wanted to say yes, the diminutive brunette strapped over the right shoulder of the joyful Daisy LeMay by way of Canadian Backbreaker. The small of her back protested with a fresh pop and crack each and every time she was vindictively jostled up and down, the muscles in her back having long given up in trying to support the enforced, agonising arch of her spine, forcing her to hang limp as she was jostled this way and that. Both of her arms and legs hung limply high above the mat, her thighs and shoulders spasming in sympathy for the punishment being dished out upon her centre mass, the brown eyes of the petite young woman pressed closed as her parted lips released short, sharp groans of misery. The youngest of the Sinclair’s felt like she was about to be snapped in two across the shoulder joint of the giggling blonde who seemed intent on doing exactly that, a pair of hands strapped down hard across the trim tummy of the entrapped Scarlet, holding her in place.
She shivered from head to toe as she inhaled deeply, her bosom hiking as she felt the words of capitulation rising rapidly to her throat…
Scarlet didn’t get the chance to voice them, ‘saved’ from the ignominy of tapping out during her first match on TV by her own opponent of all people, LeMay dropping sharply to her knees with a delighted yip. The sudden drop and, more to the point, the squally sudden stop all but snapped Sinclair’s already abused back into a brutally painful arch, the Rookies cry soundless as her eyes snapped open wide and a savage jolt ran the entire length of her petite mass, the young woman momentarily insensible as she was shrugged dismissively to the canvas, puddling across her front in a sweaty heap.
By comparison, the pink clad, Babyface Pretender looked positively radiant, curls bouncing as she hopped back up onto her feet, performing a merry skip about the ring as if the audience were chanting her name. In reality they were doing nothing of the sort, the FAWNatics having seen through the buxom blonde years ago, her cherub cheeks and butter wouldn’t melt persona a flimsy façade for the corner cutting, backstabbing, conniving opportunist beneath. Not that she seemed to much care, LeMay enjoying herself far too much to give single damn about what people were actually saying, living in her own world as often as she did the real one.
Having completed her self indulgent circle of the ring, she came to a stop with both a hop and a skip right back next to the fallen Scarlet, leaning forwards with her hands tucked behind her back as she tilted her head just so.
“Aww, what’s the matter Stumpy Sinclair?” she cooed with mock concern, the smaller brunette, shivering in pain, struggling to push herself back up onto her hands and knees. “Feeling a little bit sore, a little bit redundant? It really must suck to be third in line.”
When Scarlet didn’t answer, Daisy’s beatific expression switched swiftly into a petulant snarl and she positively STAMPED her right boot down on Sinclair’s unprotected fingers, flattening them against the mat!!
The smaller brunette YELPED as she recoiled away from the cruel stomp, shooting up to kneeling as she clutched her wounded paw close to her chest, feeling her fingers throb following the impact.
Daisy slapped her about the back of her head for such an undignified display, grabbing two claw holds of the young women’s hair for good measure as she began yanking her back up to vertical. “Speak when spoken to,” LeMay chided, tugging and pulling all the while, “you Brits are supposed to be polite!”
Scarlet, however, took exception to the slap, short temper flaring with a scrunching of her forehead and flaring of her nose, the diminutive scrapper reaching up without warning and grabbing the startled blonde about the back her head with both hands. Sinclair dropped, this time voluntarily, falling to her own knees and dragging the noggin of her opponent right along with her, DRIVING Daisy’s chin right onto the crown of her noggin, the CRACK!! of the impromptu Jawbreaker heard by everyone in the front rows.
Daisy shot back up to standing as though she had been struck by lightning, blinking rapidly as her brain struggled to catch back up with reality, the FAWNatics popping as they witnessed the unfolding reversal in fortunes.
Scarlet didn’t hear them, not with the blood pumping in her ears, not as she stood back up and her heart beat furiously inside of her chest, not as she bulled through her own aches and pains and grabbed the reeling LeMay by two fistfuls of her blonde curls, returning the earlier favour.
A Bytch got treated how a Bytch behaved.
Sinclair jumped, spreading her diminutive stems out wide into a V as she forcibly YANKED!! down hard on her duel handholds, ripping the panicked Daisy right off her feel and sent her sailing features first towards the canvas, the Sit Out Facebuster planting LeMay emphatically against the deck with a plywood flexing ‘THUNK!!”
86’d
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ORkycckLLE
While Scarlet hit the canvas with a not entirely comfortable drop to her buttocks, Daisy’s faceplant could very well be all that she wrote. The blonde jack knifed from the collision right back up onto her knees before she teetered and flopped right back down to whence she came, her noggin bouncing to a stop between Sinclair’s spread open thighs.
The miniature brunette didn’t pause to bask in the accolades of her newly minted supporters, most of which were still racing to catch up with the rapid change in events themselves, and instead immediately shovelled the shipwrecked LeMay over onto her back. Scarlet hooked both legs of opponent and curled her up into a tight ball, pink clad buttocks pointed towards the rafters, flash photography not missing out on the moment as Sinclair secured for herself a pin.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
Scarlet let go of her opponents’ pliant stems the moment the bell rang and lay back exhausted over the top of the shell-shocked blonde. Only after the Officials prompting did the fatigued young woman drag herself back up to standing, her dander still up as the man in black and white raised her right arm.
The FAWNatics in attendance at the small venue were in high spirits, eager to get behind the little sister of the People’s Princess, and she had to admit, if only to herself, those cheers did make her feel a little better…
That being said, as Daisy began rolling over close by, painfully rising to her hands and knees, it was all Scarlet could do to resist STOMPING down hard on the other girls exposed fingers. Her own digits still stung like a mother f*cker, and she was eager for the blonde to understand the source of her distemper.
She didn’t however, the youngest of the Sinclair’s swallowing her resentment, doing her best to keep it bottled up inside. The match was over, and she was trying really hard to behave…