Post by EmmaWoods007 on Nov 20, 2018 16:37:57 GMT
Backstage…
After exhaling a deep, nervous sigh, Raelene managed a small smile, the young women looking at herself in the full-length mirror of the small changing room. She hadn’t gotten changed yet, still attired as she was for the road, her duffle bag sat unopened on the bench beside her, the leggy, lithe brunette standing on the verge of the big time, and all the more nervous now because of it.
“You can do this,” she told herself, willing it to be true, “you can do this.”
‘Paying your dues’ had proven to be a bigger bill than Raelene had originally expected, the cost to be paid not only metaphorical, but emotional and physical as well. The Starr Sisters had come to FAWN Developmental as little more than teenagers, armed with nothing other than dreams, ambition and, to top it all off, a get rich quick scheme. In hindsight, their naivety had been shocking, truths had been hard learned and, for the time being at least, her sister had gone home to reconsider her options.
Raelene, for her own part, had chosen to stay, to stick it out, to try even harder and then, when the effort to succeed had proven to be almost more than she could endure, she now found herself standing here, officially on the Main Roster. The House Show circuit remained a thousand miles away from the PPV’s, but it was just as distant from the Jungle, her career moving forwards into a most critical juncture.
Make or break…
She smiled again, this time more assertively, exhaling sharply as she prepped her game face, remembering well one of her coaches many mantras rattling about her head, Carol Courage had never lacked for them.
‘If you don’t bet on yourself, how can you expect anyone else to?’
The big time.
Her time.
Finally, at last.
“You can do this!”
**********
The Arena…
The crowd was getting restless, almost everyone now seated in the modest arena, eagerly waiting for the festivities to begin. They would not have to wait long, even so, they refused to remain silent as they had been promised both a Jungle Graduation, and the return of a former IC Champion for the evenings opening contest, the venue positively buzzing in anticipation. That building excitement was rewarded as…
Stamp On The Ground
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dX87zWN2E4g
…burst out of the small halls modest sound system and, at centre stage, illuminated by the house lights, now stood the wonderfully lithe physique of the radiant Raelene Starr, one step placed ever so slightly in front of the other, her chin tucked forwards and a baton held motionlessly in her right hand.
RAELENE STARR
There she remained, the light catching her curves in all the right places, almost regal in her repose as the opening chords of her theme music encouraged the crowds good will with a rhythmic beat of upbeat tones. As the whispers of ‘Stamp on the ground, move it all around,’ crept into the melody, the youthful Raelene began nodding in time with the hypnotic music’s beat until, finally, as the song ramped up to fuel volume, Starr burst into life with the same lustre as her namesake.
She was a blur of beguiling motion, the FAWNatics cheering in appreciation as the scantly clad, lithesome young woman pivoted and turned in an endlessly fluid, baton twirling routine that was a wonder to behold, not a step out of place nor a movement out of rhythm as her smile melted hearts left and right, dexterously making her way down to the ring as though she was part of a procession worthy of the grandest marches, accompanying her towards victory.
About her torso and tummy, she was clad in little more than a hot pink, one piece that clung to her physique so tightly she might as well not be wearing it at all, the form fitting material leaving the vast majority of her shoulders and all of her deliciously firm thighs bare, a plunge down her back likewise leaving nothing to the imagination until it curved to a stop just above her perky buttocks. About her fists she wore white, fingerless gloves and her boots, reaching up to the middle of her calves were the same colour, Raelene having shed the uniform of yesterday, and replaced it with this new, daring number.
Those watching didn’t seem too much mind, fully appreciating every inch of Starr’s five foot seven, one hundred and twenty-five-pound physique as she twisted and twirled, spinning her baton from one hand to the other in a hypnotic blur of motion, never once looking like she was about to drop it.
Scarcely ten feet from the ring, Raelene evidently felt the need to up the tempo, briefly marching on the spot, ‘stamping on the ground’ as her music suggested she should. The small crowd joined in, utterly unable to resist, clapping in time with the beat as Starr nodded in appreciation.
Suddenly, without warning, Raelene THREW her baton skywards and, before anyone could follow their instincts to watch it sail into the air, they were instead enraptured by her. Starr launched into a quick sprint and then, just as quickly, leapt into a bewildering series of forward flips before she pivoted to a fluid stop and, raising one hand up high, caught the descending baton with the flash of a triumphant smile and without even looking up.
The appreciative audience roared in approval and, feeling as though she had suitably won her new, televised audience over, she turned smartly about on the spot and, following a cheeky shimmy of her hips, hopped up onto the apron before rolling beneath the bottom rope. She popped back up to her feet in no time and, after holding her baton up high for one last cheer from those watching, she surrendered her prop to the waiting Official for safe keeping.
Satisfied that everything was in good order, Raelene was feeling like a million bucks now that she was actually out on the stage, moving over to a free corner before settling in. Now her nerves were those of impatience, her lithe frame filled with all too familiar ambition.
It was then that the Houselights fell…
Devil
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XxlaJQGve7s
An unnatural air of trepidation fell about the arena, the tight confines suddenly claustrophobic, the slow creep of for boding summoning a chill that was uncommon. A slim slit of crimson red illuminated through the curtains, the identity of the arriving competitor not a mystery and yet, from reputation and history, a palpable sense of unease gathered over those watching.
Erika Eisenberg emerged amongst the stark and piercing beat of that opening rhythm, the melody as unsettling as it was threatening, the curvaceous carnivore striding with purpose, with desire, her pace unceasing and her gaze entrancing, ice blue and calculating, alluring... perilous...
ERIKA EISENBERG
Attired in the skin of the dead, the blonde destroyer hugged tightly by the two piece, dark tan, snake skin top and slim line shorts, elbow long, fingerless gloves and knee high boots, she was every inch the Titan the FAWNatics remembered her to be. Slowly, with cold, methodical, malicious intent, she circled the ring, refusing to acknowledge the unsettled bystanders, that stare, that piercing, ravenous stare soaking in the ground upon which she would feed upon her would be rival.
Once the undisputed Queen of Misery, Eisenberg’s statuesque physique heralded an overriding sense of dread, of cold, malicious intent, five foot nine and one hundred of forty pounds of insatiable hunger that could not be slaked.
Suddenly, with a burst of speed, she all but leapt up onto the apron, proceeding to almost effortlessly lift one long, stunningly powerful leg over the top rope, followed quickly by the other, a slight, mirthless smile finally rising to her coldly intense features.
That smallest of mirthless smiles remained upon her features as the houselights returned with agonizing slowness and she found her corner as though she owned it, her eyes unfaltering from the almost painfully young brunette opposite, the veteran, titanic blonde inhaling slowly… yet deeply in anticipation.
Meanwhile, Raelene was earning herself an Oscar as she appeared composed in her own corner, her expression stoic as that ravenous, ice blue stare sized her up like a gourmet feast. She resisted the urge to swallow, the German super athlete opposite as domineering up close as she had been led to believe, if not more so, the two inches and fifteen pounds she was giving up seeming to be considerably more in her imagination. She gripped the ropes to either side of her tightly, willing her heart to beat slower, searching for that core of confidence, of self-belief instilled in her by Carol Courage.
“RAE-LENE!!” someone began shouting from the crowd in open defiance of the aura of dread that had accompanied Erika into the arena.
“RAE-LENE!!” the same stranger repeated, a girl from the audience who brought her hands together in accompaniment, demanding others take up the call.
They did so, one after another until a dozen, two dozen, a hundred voices all began chanting and applauding in unison, snapping the pink clad athlete from her hypnotic stupor.
“RAE-LENE!! RAE-LENE!! RAE-LENE!! RAE-LENE!! RAE-LENE!!”
Confused, she looked about, searching for the instigator for this unexpected, spirit lifting uproar, to her surprise, to her barely contained joy, her eyes locked with a blonde young woman sitting in the front row, her own flesh and blood. Jaelene Starr!!
JAELENE STARR
“KICK HER ASS!!” Jaelene shouted from one of the best seats in the house, satisfied that she had riled up the crowd into a frenzy of support for her sibling.
As for herself, regardless of the thousands of questions running through her mind at the unexpected arrival of her former Tag Team Partner at ringside, Raelene felt positively lighter, uplifted by the chants of the audience, emboldened!! She nodded in appreciation, a heartfelt gesture directed at her sister, before the leggy brunette turned the entirety of her attention back towards the Curvaceous Carnivore.
Yes, she was a super athlete, yes, she was to be respected and yes, she was even intimidating, but she had been defeated before… and it was now down to Raelene to prove that she could be defeated again.
So loud was the growing support of the audience, that she almost missed the sound of the bell. Fortunately, she didn’t, and as such neither competitor was caught flat footed as they pushed out from their respective corners.
They circled one another for several moments, Raelene light footed and assured, Eisenberg methodical and intense, her stare, ice blue and ravenous, never wavering from her chosen morsel. The statuesque blonde, sublimely moulded, leaned her posture forwards and motioned with a single figure, her lips twitching in anticipation, inviting the lamb to slaughter.
Raelene, unwilling to be daunted, accepted the implied challenge and surged forward, Erika inhaling deeply with scarcely repressed hunger and matching her foes pace, the two sculptured athletes colliding at centre ring with a SMACK of firm flesh, the collar and elbow tie up locked in tight. The FAWNatics roared with approval at the official commencement of festivities, but even as the duo writhed for superior leverage, Starr quickly realised her own error, her heart skipping a concerned beat as Eisenberg, her features scarcely an inch before her own, dominated every inch of the embrace, the lips of the Curvaceous Carnivore twitching into a smirk.
Just as the struggling brunettes’ knees began sinking, Starr wincing as her back began curling, Erika’s ruby lips parted cold grin before, with a display of both power and contempt, she physically SHOVED Raelene away. The brunette scarcely retained her balance as she was pushed backwards, finding herself forcibly returned to her corner before she was able to regain her footing, her back thumping against the turnbuckles.
Starr remained there for several moments longer than she was content with, her arms draped along the top ropes as she regained her bearings, forcing her breathing to remain even as her eyes, dark brown, never wavered from her opponent. The super athlete stared right on back, unflustered and composed, her lips parting in anticipation.
“Come Little Lamb,” Eisenberg beckoned, backing off from the centre by half a pace, her invitation as viperous as her movements were silky. “Time for slaughter.”
Raelene frowned ever so slightly, disliking the condescension, but as the FAWNatics began to resume clapping, rallied by her sister at ringside, Starr began nodding to herself in rhythm with a personal beat, hardening her resolve. If Eisenberg wanted to show off, then the pink clad athlete was fully prepared to do likewise.
Erika’s smirk grew all the wider as, once again, she inhaled deeply as her adversary surged forwards to meet the German Super Athlete pound for pound, lunging forwards herself to complete the collision of young, nubile flesh…
Only for Raelene to avoid that perilous embrace altogether, the Sensational Show-Off instead dexterously diving forwards into a delightful roll that took her clean beneath the Collar and Elbow Tie Up that she couldn’t win.
Instead she hit the canvas with a perfectly controlled tumble, popping right back up onto her feet on her opponents’ blindside. Even as Eisenberg pivoted to compensate, her efforts slowed from being overbalanced, Starr was already halfway through twisting her own, slender physique far more sharply about on the spot. She leapt, a continuation of what appeared to be a single, effortlessly fluid motion, capturing the attention of the FAWNatics as she flipped her wonderfully leggy physique up and over to deliver a ‘sweet as you like’ Pele Kick to the side of Erika’s noggin!
Eisenberg’s smirk vanished the moment her opponent’s boot connected with the side of her cheek, snapping her head sideways and forcing the blonde to take a half stumble. She sneered, her ears ringing, the Curvaceous Carnivore recovering quickly to.
Raelene didn’t miss a beat, Starr finding her feet and whipping the crowd into a frenzy as she remained a blur of beautiful perpetual motion. Even as Erika was still recoiling, Starr was forcing jaws to drop as she leapt, almost from standing, all the way up to the top turnbuckle!!
She didn’t hesitate, not even for a moment, Raelene perched upon two of the top ring ropes for just a fraction of a second, facing outwards towards the audience, before she launched herself backwards into the ring. Airborne was, perhaps, where she was born to be as, during flight, she spun herself about a full three sixty before Cross Body Splashing the upright Eisenberg with all of her one hundred and twenty-five pounds!
Unprepared for such a swift assault, the crowd watched on in amazement as the unbalanced Erika was toppled in record time, the Curvaceous Carnivore bowled over to the mat with an unexpected thud, Starr coming down to earth atop of her.
TURNBUCKLE CORKSCREW SPLASH: @7:36
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FbvY6fAMoX0
ONE!
Perhaps the Official had been premature in dropping to the canvas to begin the count, perhaps he had simply gotten carried away as, before his palm had reached the mat for the first time, Eisenberg was thrusting a shoulder up, and Raelene had already dismounted. The momentum of the brunette had not even slowed as the duo of contestants had hit the deck, and she was up on her feet again in a flash, beating Erika back up to vertical by several seconds.
She made good use of that time, racing towards the closest set of turnbuckles, saluting even to the audience as she climbed one and then another with swift, assured strides. Before she reached the apex of her climb, she pushed herself free from her temporary perch and spun herself about whilst airborne, bringing her elbow around and, in mid-flight, positively CRACKED! her weaponised joint into the OTHER cheek of the Perfect Predator!
“Two for two,” she reminded the domineering blonde as Erika was forced to swivel sideways from the collision, red welts now appearing of both sides of her classically sculptured features. The FAWNatics ate up the saunter in Raelene’s hips as she stuck her own landing, even daring to strike a pose with her back to her opponent whilst the blonde remained dazed.
“SHALL WE FIND OUT WHAT ELSE I CAN SPANK BEFORE FOR CAN LIFT A FINGER?” Raelene cried out to the FAWNatics and, while the resounding reply from the suddenly boisterous masses was most certainly in the positive, she didn’t wait for an answer before she began moving. She set off at a sprint, the leggy brunette clearing the distance to the opposite set of turnbuckles in no time and…
…Unfortunately, she had not accounted for Eisenberg’s own powers of acceleration, the statuesque blonde having silenced the ringing in her ears in the time her emboldened adversary had taken to whip up her supporters, and launched into a charge of her own!!
The FAWNatics cried out a warning, Jaelene in the front row in particular, but such protests may as well of fallen on deaf ears for all of the difference it made for Raelene, the young women caught with no-where left to go besides between a rock and a hard place. With no time to react, the pink clad athlete was all but bull rushed into the corner she had been running towards, CRASHING! into the turnbuckles front first as the domineering physique of the Curvaceous Carnivore SLAMMED into her back, the Avalanche Splash wedging the smaller of the two opponents deep into the corner.
Raelene’s gutted groan was audible to those sitting several rows back, Starr shivering as she slumped, her head drooping forwards as she struggled to regain her breath, held in place by her adversary. Erika, however, did not keep her there long, stepping back half a pace and turning the brunette about, grabbing a possessive hold of her hair before folding her forwards.
After applying a Standing Headscissors, flexing her own, powerful thighs for effect, she leaned forwards and encircled her foes trim tummy with both of her arms. With seemingly little effort, Erika lifted her lithe rival off the deck and carried her upside down, the girl’s long legs pointing upwards towards the rafters, her head still perched perilously between the German’s domineering hips.
“No!” Raelene exhaled the involuntary protest as she was possessively carried to centre ring, struggling as defiantly as she could the moment her head began to clear, all to no avail. Once you were within the embrace of Eisenberg, there was to be no release from it.
“Oh my,” Erika replied, displaying her opponent for the hard camera, “yes.”
Suddenly she dropped, Raelene closing her eyes as she was brought down with her, Eisenberg executing a Sit Out Piledriver without even a hint of remorse.
Sit Out Piledriver: @4:39
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wy-pOPvYFT4
With the crown of her skull NAILED into the canvas and the top of her spine compressing wickedly, Raelene recoiled from head to toe, spasming violently as she flopped down onto the canvas. Her right thigh twitched from just a few moments as her pert bosom hiked with a pained breath before she puddled into a pile of pliant, quivering flesh.
Eisenberg went for the pin, sublimely leaning forwards with just one palm planted on Starr’s stilled chest, feeling the girls stuttering heartbeat as Erika stared into the hard camera, her lips curling into a slow, dangerously enticing smirk.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE…
Erika grabbed Raelene by the hair and YANKED the shell-shocked Rookie right up to sitting, voluntarily breaking her own pin. Her smirk grew all the more dangerous as Raelene remained limp in her embrace, her eyes fluttering just barely half open, the FAWNatics erupting with protests, both at the lack of sportsmanship, and in concern for Starr’s continued well-being.
Eisenberg drank it all in, eyes of ice blue scanning the audience, settling on one delectable treat in particular, Jaelene simmering in fury on the wrong side the same barricades she was grasping with a white-knuckle grip. Erika leaned down, slowly, deliberately teasing the tip of her tongue along the cheek of her passive opponent, indulging in her flavour.
On the wrong side of the barricades, Jaelene was apocalyptic, fully prepared to leap over the very same metalwork that she had chosen to sit behind and was forced to remain where she was by the efforts of security.
Eisenberg smiled derisively in response before turning the entirety of her attention back to the girl within her embrace, the moaning Raelene. “Come Little Lamb,” Erika cooed with an undercurrent of danger, “just a little longer.”
The Curvaceous Carnivore, her appetite scarcely slaked, slid her way up to standing, cradling her opponent by her head as she nudged and cajoled her towards vertical, whispering sweet nothings into her ear to entice her drowsy foe…
Raelene, however, was no longer as shell-shocked as she appeared, the beguiling brunette with the longest legs in the Lightweight Division grimacing as she was scooped up onto her knees! Just before she was forced to find her feet, the tallest of the Starr Sisters had used her reprieve well, regaining her senses and, before the Perfect Predator realised that her Prey had begun playing Possum, Raelene cupped the back of the blonde’s head with both of her palms and DROPPED back down to her own knees!
Forcibly dragged forwards by her rapidly descending opponent, Erika gritted her teeth with a loud hiss as the underside of her jaw CRACKED against the crown of the resurgent brunette. The impact whipped Eisenberg’s head backwards, a whiplash motion that was soon followed by the rest of her body, the classical beauty teetering on her powerful legs.
Raelene, dissatisfied by her new Rival’s lack of progress down to the canvas, opted to help her the rest of the way there, the aerialist finding her own feet just long enough to launch into a standing dropkick! The soles of her boots connected solidly with the torso of the German opposite, and the already unbalanced Amazonian competitor was sent tumbling, an involuntary grunt escaping from her body.
As Eisenberg collapsed into a corner, a growl upon her lips as her buttocks hit the canvas, her back pressed up against the turnbuckles, Starr made her own landing with far more pizazz. The brunette was back on her feet in no time, much to the delight of the FAWNatics who cheered her on and, while a full confessional from the aspiring brunette would later reveal that the world was still spinning from the effects of the piledriver, she had no intentions of letting it show.
Instead the Sensational Show-Off did what she did best, and set off at a run before Erika could begin peeling herself out of her prison. Zeroing in on her adversary, Raelene grabbed the uppermost coils to either side of the top turnbuckle and, with a sweet as you like pop of her hips, swung her legs backwards like a pendulum. After generating enough momentum, the swing took the entirety of her lithe physique up and over into an impromptu handstand, the highest coils in the ring acting as her base.
The FAWNatics gasped at the sight, although they had little time to appreciate it, Starr inhaling a short breath before she swung the entirety of weaponised physique back down, creating a wicked degree of velocity on the backswing. At the last moment she brought her knees up to her chest and SLAMMED both of those joints into Erika’s unprotected features!
Eisenberg’s head SNAPPED backwards, her noggin rebounding off the middle turnbuckles, her forehead blasted by the collision. Her arms jostled with a sharp spasm up and over the centre ring ropes, hanging limply after doing so, her fingers twitching erratically as she slumped deeper into her seat.
Raelene wasn’t done, not by a long shot, popping back from the impact and landing deftly before turning about, the enthusiasm of those watching growing in spades as she shot off at a sprint. She reached the opposite corner in no time flat and, after raising one hand high to an appreciative audience, she charged right on back towards her foe!
She leapt the last pace, tucking her knees back up into her chest in mid-air, the FAWNatics WHOOPING once more as those very same, lithe limbs BURIED themselves deep into the wide-open torso of the Perfect Predator!
Eisenberg exhaled a deep, breathy groan as her body was forcibly impaled by a set of knees, her arms spasming again, this time the snake skinned sleeved limps popping back into the confines of the ring, coming to rest idly by her hips. She was visibly compacted even further into her increasingly tight prison.
Rebound Double Knee Drop/Running Double Knee Smash Combo:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=znyyRz3Kij4
Much to her relief, the world had stopped spinning by the time Raelene popped away from the second collision and, while she had a beaming smile and high salute for the adoring public, she had nothing of the sort for the growling Erika. Leaning down, she grabbed the woman by her own mane, and began to jostle the Teutonic Titan back up onto her feet, peeling her out of the corner.
“All’s fair in love and war,” Starr warned, breathing the threat into the blonde’s ear, “but don’t think that you can toy with me.”
Forcing the gutted Erika down into a side headlock, Raelene shot up one arm for an additional salute, encouraging the crowd to promptly pop on command, before the Sleek Siren set off into a short run with Eisenberg brought in toe. After perhaps four strides, Starr popped her knees to take flight, leading her adversary along for a Bulldog…
Eisenberg, however, had no intention of being led towards anything as, when Raelene reached the apex of her leap, the Curvaceous Carnivore raised her own arms, grasped the brunette by her hips, and SHOVED with as much force that she could muster. This proved to be a considerable amount as the blonde’s head was not only popped free from its enforced embrace but, more importantly, Starr was sent hurtling through the air!
With her planned trajectory knocked perilously off course, Raelene landed on the mat hard, bouncing with a cry of pain as a harsh jolt of fire ran up the length of her back, the brunette both wincing and momentarily paralysed as she curled her spine.
“I will do as I like, Little Lamb,” Eisenberg cooed as she wiped something from her cheek, a scowl finding its way to her porcelain features. She shot off at a sprint without further warning and delivered a savagely direct football kick to the underside of Starr’s wide-open jaw, the strike worthy of being included in many a penalty shoot-out!
With Raelene’s head snapping backwards, Erika was striding to a stop even as the lithe brunette flopped backwards, her arms spread out by way of starfish. Starr showed some signs of life, a pained expression betraying that she remained consciousness, and she gamely tried to sit back up before slumping.
Eisenberg was there to collect her, methodical, precise, predatory in her movements as she peeled the ailing athlete back off the deck, persistently prompting the young woman to regain her feet, before folding her forwards into a firm, front headlock.
“Sheep are not permitted to dictate terms,” Erika decreed, her free hand grasping her opponent by her bare thigh, the blonde standing imperiously at centre ring. “When the time has come for slaughter.”
With a tensing of her own frame, she popped the entirety Raelene’s physique up into the air, domineeringly holding her suspended, upsides down, in what appeared to a Stalling Suplex position, the toes of the girl’s boots pointing towards the rafters. She remained motionless, carrying her burden without a great deal of discernible effort, before dropping her so suddenly it earned a gasp of horror from those watching, Jaelene in particular from behind the barricades!
The plummet straight down to earth was further intensified as Erika adjusted the trajectory of her opponent, repositioning the Sensational Show-Off with the deafest of touches to land, neck first, across the top of Eisenberg’s bent and posted thigh!!
Vertical Suplex Neckbreaker:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKuFxO7ipHY
Raelene’s jolted at such a severe angle, many watching were forced to wince in sympathy, the young woman planted down onto the deck in a boneless heap, her bosom rising only slightly.
Erika followed through by planting only a single palm down hard atop Starr’s forehead, prompting the Official to drop down to the canvas to begin counting, her eyes, penetrating, once more boring into the brunette’s sibling at ringside, her smile filled with ravenous intent.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE…
Eisenberg switched her grip and, after grabbing her opponent’s hair, YANKED!! Raelene right back up to sitting, the Curvaceous Carnivore dissatisfied with her labours. She repositioned her hands once again, this time settling both of her palms to either side of her adversary’s head, and began SQUEEZING the submissive girls noggin in a viciously sadistic vice, patently ignoring the protests of both the Official, and the FAWNatics, for once again interrupting her own count.
Starr’s eyes, as she remained seated at centre ring, began to flutter open as her brow creased in misery, the young woman forced to wake up to a new nightmare as a groan, soft and low to begin with, pushed it’s way free from between her parted lips. After a few seconds, as Erika flexed her biceps and rolled her powerful shoulders, that protracted moan turned into an increasingly high-pitched cry, the pressure being exerted against her cranium beyond anything that she had previously experienced, the warnings that she had been given paling in comparison to the reality.
The Curvaceous Carnivore would not let up, twisting the ailing Starr’s head left and then right, an ominous ‘crick’ accompanying both movements. Eisenberg’s own chest began hiking in unison with those same clicks, the noises made by another warrior’s body capitulating by degrees and, if it were possible, she adjusted her posture and applied even MORE pressure than she had previously.
Raelene’s lower lip was set to trembling and, as her pretty peepers began rolling backwards into her own head, she inhaled a deep, pained breath to…
Eisenberg shoved her aside before she could voice her surrender, the brunette shuddering as she flopped over, relief flooding every inch of her sublime frame. Her thighs twitched for several seconds before she started moving, the American draaaaaaging herself across the canvas, breathing fitfully as she searched blindly for the dubious safety of the ropes.
She found them, eventually, almost oblivious to her surroundings, her fingers curling around the bottom coil, as Erika languidly stalked her every step of the way, a reaper in the waiting, much to the despair of the FAWNatics watching.
With commendable effort, and a grimace of determination, the Sensational Show Off pulled herself quivering up to the second set of ring ropes, which helped her find her knees and, with a deep breath, to almost haul herself back up to vertical. She didn’t quite make it, a shimmy in her thighs, the pink clad aerialist folded forwards and looking as though she may well still collapse at a moment’s notice.
Erika observed with her head tilted, before she zeroed in for what many, for the brunette’s sake, hoped would be the end of it tonight…
Only for Raelene to seize upon some remainder of defiance, the Jungle Graduate kicking backwards with one of her highly coveted stems and positively MULE KICKING Eisenberg square in her rigid midriff!
Erika, unprepared, guffed out a bellow of air as she folded forwards, almost falling to one knee as the sole of her opponents boot penetrated deep into her six pack.
That, it seemed, was more or less where Starr wanted Eisenberg to be as, with Babyface tenacity, she spun about sharply on the spot and followed up one kick with another! The sole of her boot made contact for a second time, PLANTING!! itself against her blonde tormentors’ cheek, positively SLAPPING!! the spit from her opponent’s mouth and forcing the Snake Skinned Sadist to snap around in a full, one-eighty turn.
Back Kick followed by Roundhouse Kick:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yzhaz4cGdD4
Raelene could barely keep herself standing, a fact that was abundantly clear to everyone who possessed eyes to see, but given what she had in mind next, she wouldn’t need to remain vertical for long. Instead, with her opponent standing with back to her, Starr darted forwards the two paces that separated them and leapt, cupping her opponents chin from behind. From there, it was only a matter of letting gravity do the hard work as she yanked backwards with as must strength as she could still muster, jamming her own knee’s up against her chest at the same time.
The hissing Eisenberg was ripped backwards into the Lungblower, a howl escaping her as a pair weaponised joints buried themselves deep between her shoulder blades and, the moment she was released, she jack knifed away onto the canvas. She didn’t stay down long, the Amazonian German cradling her back as she shuffled upwards onto her knees, but her movements were quite clearly restricted.
Lungblower
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKyrNcjcmLc
Raelene, displaying commendable tenacity, was once again using the ring ropes to drag herself back up to standing, knowing that she possessed only the scantest of seconds to capitalise, her sister keen to remind her of that as she shouted (and insistently pointed) from ringside. Starr nodded, turning herself about with a visible shimmy in her thighs to lean backwards against the top coils, before pointing both of her index figures up high towards the rafters.
It was a shorthand for her most die-hard supporters, and while only a fraction of those in attendance tonight were familiar with her work in the Jungle, more than enough of them were present to make a respectable, unified cry of…
“LIGHT HER UP!!”
…be heard around all four corners of the arena.
As though they were a starter pistol, Raelene shot off at a sprint, zeroing in on her kneeling tormentor and, at the last moment, leapt into a beautiful forward sault, catching her opponents head as she flew past. Once again, gravity proved to be a valued ally, tag teaming on this occasion with momentum to DRAG the Hardbody Horror forwards and DRIVING her features face first into the barely yielding plywood…
Starr Bomb
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHfZLUH0d08
…and Eisenberg recoiled as though as though she had been planted into concrete!!
Unfortunately, much to the dismay of those watching, Eisenberg continued rolling as she returned to the deck, managing to avoid Raelene’s follow up as she dived in an attempt to secure a quick pin.
Frustrated, Starr slapped the palms of her hands against the deck before running them through her brunette mane. Her sister was riling the FAWNatics back up again at ringside, the majority in attendance soon chanting her name as Eisenberg was already pulling herself back together again scarcely a few yards.
Weary beyond measure, Raelene knew she should have lost this match twice over already, but she was determined to ensure that Eisenberg would come to rue indulging her sadistic streak. Starr pushed herself back up onto boot leather and, as Erika had found one knee herself, she grabbed the far stronger blonde by her own curls.
“I warned you,” Raelene declared, her own bosom heaving as she prepared to secure leverage, “I said, don’t toy with me!”
In the months that were to follow, Starr would grudgingly accept that she couldn’t actively recall what happened next, her understanding of events drawn entirely from watching the reruns. One moment she was in the ascendency, next she was being grabbed by her hips and THRUST high up into the air, the entire crowd joining her gasp of surprise before she was WHIPLASHED back down to earth, PLANTED into the mat by way of a devastating Spinebuster!!
Spinebuster
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZNztSk4jnE
Starr sputtered and coughed as her arms and legs recoiled up into the air before the Sensational Show-Off flopped into a dishevelled heap, her body shivering from head to toe. She groaned as Eisenberg knelt over her remains, the brunette offering not even a whimper of protest as she was rolled over onto her front, the Curvaceous Carnivore sliding her own, dominant physique down and across the soft contours of her decimated back.
“You are but one of those I crave for, Little Lamb,” Erika exhaled slowly into the brunette’s ear, before her breath prickled the back of the girl’s exposed neck. “But for tonight, you shall be a delectable treat.”
Eisenberg waited on no further ceremony, bearing down atop her opponent and, with frightful finality, locked the younger women in an ironclad Sleeperhold. Raelene stiffened from head to toe, the tips of her boots scraping impotently across the canvas, but with the entirety of the Super Athlete pressed down atop her, there was no-where left for Starr to go.
She convulsed, a short, sharp spasm as Erika exerted further torque, creaking Raelene’s spine slightly into a tight curve and, as something popped with an ominous crack, the Sensational Show-Off slumped into a suffocated heap, quivering with each new tense of her opponent’s bicep.
The Official dropped down to the canvas to check on his charge, finding the brunettes peepers fluttering and vacant, he raised one of the girl’s arms as the Snaked Skinned Sadist continued to exert rhythmic pressure. He let go Starr’s wrist and the limb dropped…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…with visible relief, the Official popped back up to standing and called immediately for the bell, the Announcer setting in stone the conclusion of the contest.
All the while, even as her name echoed across the loud speakers, Eisenberg refused to release her ‘Little Lamb’ from her embrace, rocking the Sensational Show-Off into a fitful slumber long after the bell had gone.
After exhaling a deep, nervous sigh, Raelene managed a small smile, the young women looking at herself in the full-length mirror of the small changing room. She hadn’t gotten changed yet, still attired as she was for the road, her duffle bag sat unopened on the bench beside her, the leggy, lithe brunette standing on the verge of the big time, and all the more nervous now because of it.
“You can do this,” she told herself, willing it to be true, “you can do this.”
‘Paying your dues’ had proven to be a bigger bill than Raelene had originally expected, the cost to be paid not only metaphorical, but emotional and physical as well. The Starr Sisters had come to FAWN Developmental as little more than teenagers, armed with nothing other than dreams, ambition and, to top it all off, a get rich quick scheme. In hindsight, their naivety had been shocking, truths had been hard learned and, for the time being at least, her sister had gone home to reconsider her options.
Raelene, for her own part, had chosen to stay, to stick it out, to try even harder and then, when the effort to succeed had proven to be almost more than she could endure, she now found herself standing here, officially on the Main Roster. The House Show circuit remained a thousand miles away from the PPV’s, but it was just as distant from the Jungle, her career moving forwards into a most critical juncture.
Make or break…
She smiled again, this time more assertively, exhaling sharply as she prepped her game face, remembering well one of her coaches many mantras rattling about her head, Carol Courage had never lacked for them.
‘If you don’t bet on yourself, how can you expect anyone else to?’
The big time.
Her time.
Finally, at last.
“You can do this!”
**********
The Arena…
The crowd was getting restless, almost everyone now seated in the modest arena, eagerly waiting for the festivities to begin. They would not have to wait long, even so, they refused to remain silent as they had been promised both a Jungle Graduation, and the return of a former IC Champion for the evenings opening contest, the venue positively buzzing in anticipation. That building excitement was rewarded as…
Stamp On The Ground
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dX87zWN2E4g
…burst out of the small halls modest sound system and, at centre stage, illuminated by the house lights, now stood the wonderfully lithe physique of the radiant Raelene Starr, one step placed ever so slightly in front of the other, her chin tucked forwards and a baton held motionlessly in her right hand.
RAELENE STARR
There she remained, the light catching her curves in all the right places, almost regal in her repose as the opening chords of her theme music encouraged the crowds good will with a rhythmic beat of upbeat tones. As the whispers of ‘Stamp on the ground, move it all around,’ crept into the melody, the youthful Raelene began nodding in time with the hypnotic music’s beat until, finally, as the song ramped up to fuel volume, Starr burst into life with the same lustre as her namesake.
She was a blur of beguiling motion, the FAWNatics cheering in appreciation as the scantly clad, lithesome young woman pivoted and turned in an endlessly fluid, baton twirling routine that was a wonder to behold, not a step out of place nor a movement out of rhythm as her smile melted hearts left and right, dexterously making her way down to the ring as though she was part of a procession worthy of the grandest marches, accompanying her towards victory.
About her torso and tummy, she was clad in little more than a hot pink, one piece that clung to her physique so tightly she might as well not be wearing it at all, the form fitting material leaving the vast majority of her shoulders and all of her deliciously firm thighs bare, a plunge down her back likewise leaving nothing to the imagination until it curved to a stop just above her perky buttocks. About her fists she wore white, fingerless gloves and her boots, reaching up to the middle of her calves were the same colour, Raelene having shed the uniform of yesterday, and replaced it with this new, daring number.
Those watching didn’t seem too much mind, fully appreciating every inch of Starr’s five foot seven, one hundred and twenty-five-pound physique as she twisted and twirled, spinning her baton from one hand to the other in a hypnotic blur of motion, never once looking like she was about to drop it.
Scarcely ten feet from the ring, Raelene evidently felt the need to up the tempo, briefly marching on the spot, ‘stamping on the ground’ as her music suggested she should. The small crowd joined in, utterly unable to resist, clapping in time with the beat as Starr nodded in appreciation.
Suddenly, without warning, Raelene THREW her baton skywards and, before anyone could follow their instincts to watch it sail into the air, they were instead enraptured by her. Starr launched into a quick sprint and then, just as quickly, leapt into a bewildering series of forward flips before she pivoted to a fluid stop and, raising one hand up high, caught the descending baton with the flash of a triumphant smile and without even looking up.
The appreciative audience roared in approval and, feeling as though she had suitably won her new, televised audience over, she turned smartly about on the spot and, following a cheeky shimmy of her hips, hopped up onto the apron before rolling beneath the bottom rope. She popped back up to her feet in no time and, after holding her baton up high for one last cheer from those watching, she surrendered her prop to the waiting Official for safe keeping.
Satisfied that everything was in good order, Raelene was feeling like a million bucks now that she was actually out on the stage, moving over to a free corner before settling in. Now her nerves were those of impatience, her lithe frame filled with all too familiar ambition.
It was then that the Houselights fell…
Devil
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XxlaJQGve7s
An unnatural air of trepidation fell about the arena, the tight confines suddenly claustrophobic, the slow creep of for boding summoning a chill that was uncommon. A slim slit of crimson red illuminated through the curtains, the identity of the arriving competitor not a mystery and yet, from reputation and history, a palpable sense of unease gathered over those watching.
Erika Eisenberg emerged amongst the stark and piercing beat of that opening rhythm, the melody as unsettling as it was threatening, the curvaceous carnivore striding with purpose, with desire, her pace unceasing and her gaze entrancing, ice blue and calculating, alluring... perilous...
ERIKA EISENBERG
Attired in the skin of the dead, the blonde destroyer hugged tightly by the two piece, dark tan, snake skin top and slim line shorts, elbow long, fingerless gloves and knee high boots, she was every inch the Titan the FAWNatics remembered her to be. Slowly, with cold, methodical, malicious intent, she circled the ring, refusing to acknowledge the unsettled bystanders, that stare, that piercing, ravenous stare soaking in the ground upon which she would feed upon her would be rival.
Once the undisputed Queen of Misery, Eisenberg’s statuesque physique heralded an overriding sense of dread, of cold, malicious intent, five foot nine and one hundred of forty pounds of insatiable hunger that could not be slaked.
Suddenly, with a burst of speed, she all but leapt up onto the apron, proceeding to almost effortlessly lift one long, stunningly powerful leg over the top rope, followed quickly by the other, a slight, mirthless smile finally rising to her coldly intense features.
That smallest of mirthless smiles remained upon her features as the houselights returned with agonizing slowness and she found her corner as though she owned it, her eyes unfaltering from the almost painfully young brunette opposite, the veteran, titanic blonde inhaling slowly… yet deeply in anticipation.
Meanwhile, Raelene was earning herself an Oscar as she appeared composed in her own corner, her expression stoic as that ravenous, ice blue stare sized her up like a gourmet feast. She resisted the urge to swallow, the German super athlete opposite as domineering up close as she had been led to believe, if not more so, the two inches and fifteen pounds she was giving up seeming to be considerably more in her imagination. She gripped the ropes to either side of her tightly, willing her heart to beat slower, searching for that core of confidence, of self-belief instilled in her by Carol Courage.
“RAE-LENE!!” someone began shouting from the crowd in open defiance of the aura of dread that had accompanied Erika into the arena.
“RAE-LENE!!” the same stranger repeated, a girl from the audience who brought her hands together in accompaniment, demanding others take up the call.
They did so, one after another until a dozen, two dozen, a hundred voices all began chanting and applauding in unison, snapping the pink clad athlete from her hypnotic stupor.
“RAE-LENE!! RAE-LENE!! RAE-LENE!! RAE-LENE!! RAE-LENE!!”
Confused, she looked about, searching for the instigator for this unexpected, spirit lifting uproar, to her surprise, to her barely contained joy, her eyes locked with a blonde young woman sitting in the front row, her own flesh and blood. Jaelene Starr!!
JAELENE STARR
“KICK HER ASS!!” Jaelene shouted from one of the best seats in the house, satisfied that she had riled up the crowd into a frenzy of support for her sibling.
As for herself, regardless of the thousands of questions running through her mind at the unexpected arrival of her former Tag Team Partner at ringside, Raelene felt positively lighter, uplifted by the chants of the audience, emboldened!! She nodded in appreciation, a heartfelt gesture directed at her sister, before the leggy brunette turned the entirety of her attention back towards the Curvaceous Carnivore.
Yes, she was a super athlete, yes, she was to be respected and yes, she was even intimidating, but she had been defeated before… and it was now down to Raelene to prove that she could be defeated again.
So loud was the growing support of the audience, that she almost missed the sound of the bell. Fortunately, she didn’t, and as such neither competitor was caught flat footed as they pushed out from their respective corners.
They circled one another for several moments, Raelene light footed and assured, Eisenberg methodical and intense, her stare, ice blue and ravenous, never wavering from her chosen morsel. The statuesque blonde, sublimely moulded, leaned her posture forwards and motioned with a single figure, her lips twitching in anticipation, inviting the lamb to slaughter.
Raelene, unwilling to be daunted, accepted the implied challenge and surged forward, Erika inhaling deeply with scarcely repressed hunger and matching her foes pace, the two sculptured athletes colliding at centre ring with a SMACK of firm flesh, the collar and elbow tie up locked in tight. The FAWNatics roared with approval at the official commencement of festivities, but even as the duo writhed for superior leverage, Starr quickly realised her own error, her heart skipping a concerned beat as Eisenberg, her features scarcely an inch before her own, dominated every inch of the embrace, the lips of the Curvaceous Carnivore twitching into a smirk.
Just as the struggling brunettes’ knees began sinking, Starr wincing as her back began curling, Erika’s ruby lips parted cold grin before, with a display of both power and contempt, she physically SHOVED Raelene away. The brunette scarcely retained her balance as she was pushed backwards, finding herself forcibly returned to her corner before she was able to regain her footing, her back thumping against the turnbuckles.
Starr remained there for several moments longer than she was content with, her arms draped along the top ropes as she regained her bearings, forcing her breathing to remain even as her eyes, dark brown, never wavered from her opponent. The super athlete stared right on back, unflustered and composed, her lips parting in anticipation.
“Come Little Lamb,” Eisenberg beckoned, backing off from the centre by half a pace, her invitation as viperous as her movements were silky. “Time for slaughter.”
Raelene frowned ever so slightly, disliking the condescension, but as the FAWNatics began to resume clapping, rallied by her sister at ringside, Starr began nodding to herself in rhythm with a personal beat, hardening her resolve. If Eisenberg wanted to show off, then the pink clad athlete was fully prepared to do likewise.
Erika’s smirk grew all the wider as, once again, she inhaled deeply as her adversary surged forwards to meet the German Super Athlete pound for pound, lunging forwards herself to complete the collision of young, nubile flesh…
Only for Raelene to avoid that perilous embrace altogether, the Sensational Show-Off instead dexterously diving forwards into a delightful roll that took her clean beneath the Collar and Elbow Tie Up that she couldn’t win.
Instead she hit the canvas with a perfectly controlled tumble, popping right back up onto her feet on her opponents’ blindside. Even as Eisenberg pivoted to compensate, her efforts slowed from being overbalanced, Starr was already halfway through twisting her own, slender physique far more sharply about on the spot. She leapt, a continuation of what appeared to be a single, effortlessly fluid motion, capturing the attention of the FAWNatics as she flipped her wonderfully leggy physique up and over to deliver a ‘sweet as you like’ Pele Kick to the side of Erika’s noggin!
Eisenberg’s smirk vanished the moment her opponent’s boot connected with the side of her cheek, snapping her head sideways and forcing the blonde to take a half stumble. She sneered, her ears ringing, the Curvaceous Carnivore recovering quickly to.
Raelene didn’t miss a beat, Starr finding her feet and whipping the crowd into a frenzy as she remained a blur of beautiful perpetual motion. Even as Erika was still recoiling, Starr was forcing jaws to drop as she leapt, almost from standing, all the way up to the top turnbuckle!!
She didn’t hesitate, not even for a moment, Raelene perched upon two of the top ring ropes for just a fraction of a second, facing outwards towards the audience, before she launched herself backwards into the ring. Airborne was, perhaps, where she was born to be as, during flight, she spun herself about a full three sixty before Cross Body Splashing the upright Eisenberg with all of her one hundred and twenty-five pounds!
Unprepared for such a swift assault, the crowd watched on in amazement as the unbalanced Erika was toppled in record time, the Curvaceous Carnivore bowled over to the mat with an unexpected thud, Starr coming down to earth atop of her.
TURNBUCKLE CORKSCREW SPLASH: @7:36
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FbvY6fAMoX0
ONE!
Perhaps the Official had been premature in dropping to the canvas to begin the count, perhaps he had simply gotten carried away as, before his palm had reached the mat for the first time, Eisenberg was thrusting a shoulder up, and Raelene had already dismounted. The momentum of the brunette had not even slowed as the duo of contestants had hit the deck, and she was up on her feet again in a flash, beating Erika back up to vertical by several seconds.
She made good use of that time, racing towards the closest set of turnbuckles, saluting even to the audience as she climbed one and then another with swift, assured strides. Before she reached the apex of her climb, she pushed herself free from her temporary perch and spun herself about whilst airborne, bringing her elbow around and, in mid-flight, positively CRACKED! her weaponised joint into the OTHER cheek of the Perfect Predator!
“Two for two,” she reminded the domineering blonde as Erika was forced to swivel sideways from the collision, red welts now appearing of both sides of her classically sculptured features. The FAWNatics ate up the saunter in Raelene’s hips as she stuck her own landing, even daring to strike a pose with her back to her opponent whilst the blonde remained dazed.
“SHALL WE FIND OUT WHAT ELSE I CAN SPANK BEFORE FOR CAN LIFT A FINGER?” Raelene cried out to the FAWNatics and, while the resounding reply from the suddenly boisterous masses was most certainly in the positive, she didn’t wait for an answer before she began moving. She set off at a sprint, the leggy brunette clearing the distance to the opposite set of turnbuckles in no time and…
…Unfortunately, she had not accounted for Eisenberg’s own powers of acceleration, the statuesque blonde having silenced the ringing in her ears in the time her emboldened adversary had taken to whip up her supporters, and launched into a charge of her own!!
The FAWNatics cried out a warning, Jaelene in the front row in particular, but such protests may as well of fallen on deaf ears for all of the difference it made for Raelene, the young women caught with no-where left to go besides between a rock and a hard place. With no time to react, the pink clad athlete was all but bull rushed into the corner she had been running towards, CRASHING! into the turnbuckles front first as the domineering physique of the Curvaceous Carnivore SLAMMED into her back, the Avalanche Splash wedging the smaller of the two opponents deep into the corner.
Raelene’s gutted groan was audible to those sitting several rows back, Starr shivering as she slumped, her head drooping forwards as she struggled to regain her breath, held in place by her adversary. Erika, however, did not keep her there long, stepping back half a pace and turning the brunette about, grabbing a possessive hold of her hair before folding her forwards.
After applying a Standing Headscissors, flexing her own, powerful thighs for effect, she leaned forwards and encircled her foes trim tummy with both of her arms. With seemingly little effort, Erika lifted her lithe rival off the deck and carried her upside down, the girl’s long legs pointing upwards towards the rafters, her head still perched perilously between the German’s domineering hips.
“No!” Raelene exhaled the involuntary protest as she was possessively carried to centre ring, struggling as defiantly as she could the moment her head began to clear, all to no avail. Once you were within the embrace of Eisenberg, there was to be no release from it.
“Oh my,” Erika replied, displaying her opponent for the hard camera, “yes.”
Suddenly she dropped, Raelene closing her eyes as she was brought down with her, Eisenberg executing a Sit Out Piledriver without even a hint of remorse.
Sit Out Piledriver: @4:39
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wy-pOPvYFT4
With the crown of her skull NAILED into the canvas and the top of her spine compressing wickedly, Raelene recoiled from head to toe, spasming violently as she flopped down onto the canvas. Her right thigh twitched from just a few moments as her pert bosom hiked with a pained breath before she puddled into a pile of pliant, quivering flesh.
Eisenberg went for the pin, sublimely leaning forwards with just one palm planted on Starr’s stilled chest, feeling the girls stuttering heartbeat as Erika stared into the hard camera, her lips curling into a slow, dangerously enticing smirk.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE…
Erika grabbed Raelene by the hair and YANKED the shell-shocked Rookie right up to sitting, voluntarily breaking her own pin. Her smirk grew all the more dangerous as Raelene remained limp in her embrace, her eyes fluttering just barely half open, the FAWNatics erupting with protests, both at the lack of sportsmanship, and in concern for Starr’s continued well-being.
Eisenberg drank it all in, eyes of ice blue scanning the audience, settling on one delectable treat in particular, Jaelene simmering in fury on the wrong side the same barricades she was grasping with a white-knuckle grip. Erika leaned down, slowly, deliberately teasing the tip of her tongue along the cheek of her passive opponent, indulging in her flavour.
On the wrong side of the barricades, Jaelene was apocalyptic, fully prepared to leap over the very same metalwork that she had chosen to sit behind and was forced to remain where she was by the efforts of security.
Eisenberg smiled derisively in response before turning the entirety of her attention back to the girl within her embrace, the moaning Raelene. “Come Little Lamb,” Erika cooed with an undercurrent of danger, “just a little longer.”
The Curvaceous Carnivore, her appetite scarcely slaked, slid her way up to standing, cradling her opponent by her head as she nudged and cajoled her towards vertical, whispering sweet nothings into her ear to entice her drowsy foe…
Raelene, however, was no longer as shell-shocked as she appeared, the beguiling brunette with the longest legs in the Lightweight Division grimacing as she was scooped up onto her knees! Just before she was forced to find her feet, the tallest of the Starr Sisters had used her reprieve well, regaining her senses and, before the Perfect Predator realised that her Prey had begun playing Possum, Raelene cupped the back of the blonde’s head with both of her palms and DROPPED back down to her own knees!
Forcibly dragged forwards by her rapidly descending opponent, Erika gritted her teeth with a loud hiss as the underside of her jaw CRACKED against the crown of the resurgent brunette. The impact whipped Eisenberg’s head backwards, a whiplash motion that was soon followed by the rest of her body, the classical beauty teetering on her powerful legs.
Raelene, dissatisfied by her new Rival’s lack of progress down to the canvas, opted to help her the rest of the way there, the aerialist finding her own feet just long enough to launch into a standing dropkick! The soles of her boots connected solidly with the torso of the German opposite, and the already unbalanced Amazonian competitor was sent tumbling, an involuntary grunt escaping from her body.
As Eisenberg collapsed into a corner, a growl upon her lips as her buttocks hit the canvas, her back pressed up against the turnbuckles, Starr made her own landing with far more pizazz. The brunette was back on her feet in no time, much to the delight of the FAWNatics who cheered her on and, while a full confessional from the aspiring brunette would later reveal that the world was still spinning from the effects of the piledriver, she had no intentions of letting it show.
Instead the Sensational Show-Off did what she did best, and set off at a run before Erika could begin peeling herself out of her prison. Zeroing in on her adversary, Raelene grabbed the uppermost coils to either side of the top turnbuckle and, with a sweet as you like pop of her hips, swung her legs backwards like a pendulum. After generating enough momentum, the swing took the entirety of her lithe physique up and over into an impromptu handstand, the highest coils in the ring acting as her base.
The FAWNatics gasped at the sight, although they had little time to appreciate it, Starr inhaling a short breath before she swung the entirety of weaponised physique back down, creating a wicked degree of velocity on the backswing. At the last moment she brought her knees up to her chest and SLAMMED both of those joints into Erika’s unprotected features!
Eisenberg’s head SNAPPED backwards, her noggin rebounding off the middle turnbuckles, her forehead blasted by the collision. Her arms jostled with a sharp spasm up and over the centre ring ropes, hanging limply after doing so, her fingers twitching erratically as she slumped deeper into her seat.
Raelene wasn’t done, not by a long shot, popping back from the impact and landing deftly before turning about, the enthusiasm of those watching growing in spades as she shot off at a sprint. She reached the opposite corner in no time flat and, after raising one hand high to an appreciative audience, she charged right on back towards her foe!
She leapt the last pace, tucking her knees back up into her chest in mid-air, the FAWNatics WHOOPING once more as those very same, lithe limbs BURIED themselves deep into the wide-open torso of the Perfect Predator!
Eisenberg exhaled a deep, breathy groan as her body was forcibly impaled by a set of knees, her arms spasming again, this time the snake skinned sleeved limps popping back into the confines of the ring, coming to rest idly by her hips. She was visibly compacted even further into her increasingly tight prison.
Rebound Double Knee Drop/Running Double Knee Smash Combo:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=znyyRz3Kij4
Much to her relief, the world had stopped spinning by the time Raelene popped away from the second collision and, while she had a beaming smile and high salute for the adoring public, she had nothing of the sort for the growling Erika. Leaning down, she grabbed the woman by her own mane, and began to jostle the Teutonic Titan back up onto her feet, peeling her out of the corner.
“All’s fair in love and war,” Starr warned, breathing the threat into the blonde’s ear, “but don’t think that you can toy with me.”
Forcing the gutted Erika down into a side headlock, Raelene shot up one arm for an additional salute, encouraging the crowd to promptly pop on command, before the Sleek Siren set off into a short run with Eisenberg brought in toe. After perhaps four strides, Starr popped her knees to take flight, leading her adversary along for a Bulldog…
Eisenberg, however, had no intention of being led towards anything as, when Raelene reached the apex of her leap, the Curvaceous Carnivore raised her own arms, grasped the brunette by her hips, and SHOVED with as much force that she could muster. This proved to be a considerable amount as the blonde’s head was not only popped free from its enforced embrace but, more importantly, Starr was sent hurtling through the air!
With her planned trajectory knocked perilously off course, Raelene landed on the mat hard, bouncing with a cry of pain as a harsh jolt of fire ran up the length of her back, the brunette both wincing and momentarily paralysed as she curled her spine.
“I will do as I like, Little Lamb,” Eisenberg cooed as she wiped something from her cheek, a scowl finding its way to her porcelain features. She shot off at a sprint without further warning and delivered a savagely direct football kick to the underside of Starr’s wide-open jaw, the strike worthy of being included in many a penalty shoot-out!
With Raelene’s head snapping backwards, Erika was striding to a stop even as the lithe brunette flopped backwards, her arms spread out by way of starfish. Starr showed some signs of life, a pained expression betraying that she remained consciousness, and she gamely tried to sit back up before slumping.
Eisenberg was there to collect her, methodical, precise, predatory in her movements as she peeled the ailing athlete back off the deck, persistently prompting the young woman to regain her feet, before folding her forwards into a firm, front headlock.
“Sheep are not permitted to dictate terms,” Erika decreed, her free hand grasping her opponent by her bare thigh, the blonde standing imperiously at centre ring. “When the time has come for slaughter.”
With a tensing of her own frame, she popped the entirety Raelene’s physique up into the air, domineeringly holding her suspended, upsides down, in what appeared to a Stalling Suplex position, the toes of the girl’s boots pointing towards the rafters. She remained motionless, carrying her burden without a great deal of discernible effort, before dropping her so suddenly it earned a gasp of horror from those watching, Jaelene in particular from behind the barricades!
The plummet straight down to earth was further intensified as Erika adjusted the trajectory of her opponent, repositioning the Sensational Show-Off with the deafest of touches to land, neck first, across the top of Eisenberg’s bent and posted thigh!!
Vertical Suplex Neckbreaker:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKuFxO7ipHY
Raelene’s jolted at such a severe angle, many watching were forced to wince in sympathy, the young woman planted down onto the deck in a boneless heap, her bosom rising only slightly.
Erika followed through by planting only a single palm down hard atop Starr’s forehead, prompting the Official to drop down to the canvas to begin counting, her eyes, penetrating, once more boring into the brunette’s sibling at ringside, her smile filled with ravenous intent.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE…
Eisenberg switched her grip and, after grabbing her opponent’s hair, YANKED!! Raelene right back up to sitting, the Curvaceous Carnivore dissatisfied with her labours. She repositioned her hands once again, this time settling both of her palms to either side of her adversary’s head, and began SQUEEZING the submissive girls noggin in a viciously sadistic vice, patently ignoring the protests of both the Official, and the FAWNatics, for once again interrupting her own count.
Starr’s eyes, as she remained seated at centre ring, began to flutter open as her brow creased in misery, the young woman forced to wake up to a new nightmare as a groan, soft and low to begin with, pushed it’s way free from between her parted lips. After a few seconds, as Erika flexed her biceps and rolled her powerful shoulders, that protracted moan turned into an increasingly high-pitched cry, the pressure being exerted against her cranium beyond anything that she had previously experienced, the warnings that she had been given paling in comparison to the reality.
The Curvaceous Carnivore would not let up, twisting the ailing Starr’s head left and then right, an ominous ‘crick’ accompanying both movements. Eisenberg’s own chest began hiking in unison with those same clicks, the noises made by another warrior’s body capitulating by degrees and, if it were possible, she adjusted her posture and applied even MORE pressure than she had previously.
Raelene’s lower lip was set to trembling and, as her pretty peepers began rolling backwards into her own head, she inhaled a deep, pained breath to…
Eisenberg shoved her aside before she could voice her surrender, the brunette shuddering as she flopped over, relief flooding every inch of her sublime frame. Her thighs twitched for several seconds before she started moving, the American draaaaaaging herself across the canvas, breathing fitfully as she searched blindly for the dubious safety of the ropes.
She found them, eventually, almost oblivious to her surroundings, her fingers curling around the bottom coil, as Erika languidly stalked her every step of the way, a reaper in the waiting, much to the despair of the FAWNatics watching.
With commendable effort, and a grimace of determination, the Sensational Show Off pulled herself quivering up to the second set of ring ropes, which helped her find her knees and, with a deep breath, to almost haul herself back up to vertical. She didn’t quite make it, a shimmy in her thighs, the pink clad aerialist folded forwards and looking as though she may well still collapse at a moment’s notice.
Erika observed with her head tilted, before she zeroed in for what many, for the brunette’s sake, hoped would be the end of it tonight…
Only for Raelene to seize upon some remainder of defiance, the Jungle Graduate kicking backwards with one of her highly coveted stems and positively MULE KICKING Eisenberg square in her rigid midriff!
Erika, unprepared, guffed out a bellow of air as she folded forwards, almost falling to one knee as the sole of her opponents boot penetrated deep into her six pack.
That, it seemed, was more or less where Starr wanted Eisenberg to be as, with Babyface tenacity, she spun about sharply on the spot and followed up one kick with another! The sole of her boot made contact for a second time, PLANTING!! itself against her blonde tormentors’ cheek, positively SLAPPING!! the spit from her opponent’s mouth and forcing the Snake Skinned Sadist to snap around in a full, one-eighty turn.
Back Kick followed by Roundhouse Kick:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yzhaz4cGdD4
Raelene could barely keep herself standing, a fact that was abundantly clear to everyone who possessed eyes to see, but given what she had in mind next, she wouldn’t need to remain vertical for long. Instead, with her opponent standing with back to her, Starr darted forwards the two paces that separated them and leapt, cupping her opponents chin from behind. From there, it was only a matter of letting gravity do the hard work as she yanked backwards with as must strength as she could still muster, jamming her own knee’s up against her chest at the same time.
The hissing Eisenberg was ripped backwards into the Lungblower, a howl escaping her as a pair weaponised joints buried themselves deep between her shoulder blades and, the moment she was released, she jack knifed away onto the canvas. She didn’t stay down long, the Amazonian German cradling her back as she shuffled upwards onto her knees, but her movements were quite clearly restricted.
Lungblower
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKyrNcjcmLc
Raelene, displaying commendable tenacity, was once again using the ring ropes to drag herself back up to standing, knowing that she possessed only the scantest of seconds to capitalise, her sister keen to remind her of that as she shouted (and insistently pointed) from ringside. Starr nodded, turning herself about with a visible shimmy in her thighs to lean backwards against the top coils, before pointing both of her index figures up high towards the rafters.
It was a shorthand for her most die-hard supporters, and while only a fraction of those in attendance tonight were familiar with her work in the Jungle, more than enough of them were present to make a respectable, unified cry of…
“LIGHT HER UP!!”
…be heard around all four corners of the arena.
As though they were a starter pistol, Raelene shot off at a sprint, zeroing in on her kneeling tormentor and, at the last moment, leapt into a beautiful forward sault, catching her opponents head as she flew past. Once again, gravity proved to be a valued ally, tag teaming on this occasion with momentum to DRAG the Hardbody Horror forwards and DRIVING her features face first into the barely yielding plywood…
Starr Bomb
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHfZLUH0d08
…and Eisenberg recoiled as though as though she had been planted into concrete!!
Unfortunately, much to the dismay of those watching, Eisenberg continued rolling as she returned to the deck, managing to avoid Raelene’s follow up as she dived in an attempt to secure a quick pin.
Frustrated, Starr slapped the palms of her hands against the deck before running them through her brunette mane. Her sister was riling the FAWNatics back up again at ringside, the majority in attendance soon chanting her name as Eisenberg was already pulling herself back together again scarcely a few yards.
Weary beyond measure, Raelene knew she should have lost this match twice over already, but she was determined to ensure that Eisenberg would come to rue indulging her sadistic streak. Starr pushed herself back up onto boot leather and, as Erika had found one knee herself, she grabbed the far stronger blonde by her own curls.
“I warned you,” Raelene declared, her own bosom heaving as she prepared to secure leverage, “I said, don’t toy with me!”
In the months that were to follow, Starr would grudgingly accept that she couldn’t actively recall what happened next, her understanding of events drawn entirely from watching the reruns. One moment she was in the ascendency, next she was being grabbed by her hips and THRUST high up into the air, the entire crowd joining her gasp of surprise before she was WHIPLASHED back down to earth, PLANTED into the mat by way of a devastating Spinebuster!!
Spinebuster
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZNztSk4jnE
Starr sputtered and coughed as her arms and legs recoiled up into the air before the Sensational Show-Off flopped into a dishevelled heap, her body shivering from head to toe. She groaned as Eisenberg knelt over her remains, the brunette offering not even a whimper of protest as she was rolled over onto her front, the Curvaceous Carnivore sliding her own, dominant physique down and across the soft contours of her decimated back.
“You are but one of those I crave for, Little Lamb,” Erika exhaled slowly into the brunette’s ear, before her breath prickled the back of the girl’s exposed neck. “But for tonight, you shall be a delectable treat.”
Eisenberg waited on no further ceremony, bearing down atop her opponent and, with frightful finality, locked the younger women in an ironclad Sleeperhold. Raelene stiffened from head to toe, the tips of her boots scraping impotently across the canvas, but with the entirety of the Super Athlete pressed down atop her, there was no-where left for Starr to go.
She convulsed, a short, sharp spasm as Erika exerted further torque, creaking Raelene’s spine slightly into a tight curve and, as something popped with an ominous crack, the Sensational Show-Off slumped into a suffocated heap, quivering with each new tense of her opponent’s bicep.
The Official dropped down to the canvas to check on his charge, finding the brunettes peepers fluttering and vacant, he raised one of the girl’s arms as the Snaked Skinned Sadist continued to exert rhythmic pressure. He let go Starr’s wrist and the limb dropped…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…with visible relief, the Official popped back up to standing and called immediately for the bell, the Announcer setting in stone the conclusion of the contest.
All the while, even as her name echoed across the loud speakers, Eisenberg refused to release her ‘Little Lamb’ from her embrace, rocking the Sensational Show-Off into a fitful slumber long after the bell had gone.
