Post by walkindude on Dec 5, 2018 23:12:23 GMT
Having a boring Wednesday, friends? Have no fear, the Oil Report is here with a quartet of clashes to help you power through the rest of the week, with the action bookended by none other than the Raven herself. She ended October in impressive fashion, can she do the same this month or does a bout of Cold November Pain herald a truly Bleak December for Lenore? You'll have to read on to find out!
~rf
**************
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
Bodyscissors snug around her opponent’s slim waist, Lenore Lemarchand hunched forward, slipped her left arm around the other woman’s throat and wrenched her head backward in a painfully snug Inverted Facelock. In the same breath she laid out flat, raised her crossed legs and squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezed down those vulnerable ribs. This raised a round of thrashing and squirming from her adversary, but Lemarchand weathered the storm and it wasn’t long before the resistance faded to manageable levels.
“Now as I understand it,” Lenore said over the excited buzz of the house show crowd, “This contract was offered to either member of your team. And while I won’t deny that the Oil Pit is a great equalizer when it comes to height and weight differences, sweetie, I have to ask, what in the HELL possessed you to take this match?”
FERAL:
Feral responded with guttural curse so Lemarchand bore down on the Beast Choker once more, the Fair & Radiant Maiden jostling her Scissors and reefing back on the Dragon Sleeper to keep grinding away at the faltering Lightweight. Displeased by the lack of response, Lenore twisted her head in the direction of Feral’s partner and arched an eyebrow in the hopes that Savage could bring light to the dark of her ignorance.
SAVAGE:
Savage watched from the edge of the pit, worry for her girlfriend plain on her face. She’d spent the match shouting words of encouragement to Feral, trying to help her get the hang of the Pit on the fly. She noticed Lenore's eyes on her, and she met her gaze. "She insisted on proving she wasn't the dead weight of the team, which is complete bullshyt, but here we are." she answered for Feral, who was too busy trying to wriggle free to engage the Raven in conversation
“Hmmmmmmmhhh.” Lemarchand’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as she processed this information. “Bullshyt indeed, considering you executed a perfect Phoenix Splash in that match against the War Party. Yes, you got fooled by the Halfmoon Switch, but who hasn’t? And I can appreciate the desire to get back out there as fast as you can, yet the Pit is a different landscape altogether, as I think you’re starting to learn.” Lenore flattened her free hand into a paddle and CRAAACKED Feral’s taut tummy once, twice, three times. This she followed with a splay-fingered claw grip on those exposed abs, the Raven making sure to gouge the point of her index finger deep into Feral’s navel.
“Submit.” she demanded. “Don’t make me pile on.”
Savage grimaced and looked away, not wanting to see her soulmate get tortured, a foregone conclusion at this point, although she put up a decent fight for her first time wrestling in oil. The statuesque blonde knew her partner was supremely stubborn and would not give it up easily. Indeed, as she looked away, Feral growled out a "F*CK YOU!!" in between the pained guttural noises she was making at having her taut tummy mauled. With one final burst of energy, she managed to twist free, but it was clear she did not have a game plan further than escape, and it was plain that she was all but spent.
Lenore got to her knees and took a moment to slick some hair back behind her ears. That done, she crawled across the Pit to Feral and seized an ankle in both hands. The exhausted Wild One tried to wrest loose, but Lemarchand quickly crossed her feet in a compressed ‘X’ and stuffed the smaller woman’s heels against her tush. The crowd buzzed in anticipation and indeed Lenore didn’t make them wait long before she slid forward to secure a seat on her opponent’s knotted stems. “Give me your hands.”
Feral’s answer came as a middle finger angled over one shoulder.
“I said give me your hands!” The Raven reached out to either side, then brought her hands down and in to SPANK off her rival’s ribs! Feral groaned, but tucked her hands beneath her chest which would’ve been a sound strategy if it didn’t allow Lemarchand to just tee off on her tawny flanks. Half a dozen more shots brought Feral’s hands back into play and Lenore took command of each neat as you please. Quick to put a curve in the Wild One’s spine with that nasty Surfboard, the leggy brunette looked to Savage and said, “Will she listen to you? Tell her to give it up.”
Savage crossed her arms "Pride's always been her Achilles heel, Miss Lemarchand. All me telling her to give it up would accomplish is a week of me sleeping on the couch for the betrayal. Much as I hate it, I think you know the way this has to end. Just...please don't do more to her than you need to, okay?"
“Is that true?” Lenore cranked on her Wristlocks, further exacerbating the curve in her prey’s back. “You’d really make her sleep on the couch when she’s just trying to keep you from getting hurt? Stubborn with a high pain tolerance is a DANGEROUS combination, girl. So submit before you have to find out just HOW dangerous.” Lemarchand bounced up ‘n down on Feral’s trapped legs and leaaaaaaaaaaned back until the tips of her oil-slicked hair was brushing the floor of the Pit.
Feral roared in a primal mixture of pain, anger, and defiance. "She knows she's done, just as well as you and I do, ma'am...But she won't give up." Savage spoke for her through gritted teeth. "She reckons surrender carries greater shame than being knocked out."
The Raven shook her head. “Foolish. Why get carried out on your shield when you can carry it yourself? But if it’s a knock out you want…” Lenore released the Wristlocks, knotted her hands into a single fist and THWHUMPED it down into the hollow of Feral’s defenseless back! The Wild One jolted like she’d been touched with a live wire, but didn’t roll off her stomach until Lemarchand sidled around and turned her with a Half Nelson. Positioned beside her opponent’s head, Lenore swung one long leg over and settled her glutes down atop Feral’s nose.
“Oil Baroness might not be an officially recognized title,” she said of the legend stretched across the seat of her shiny black briefs, “but it’s not something to take lightly either.” Lemarchand shifted just enough to brace the soles of her feet against the sides of Feral’s head, thus ensuring the lightweight lovely couldn’t turn away from the gluteal dungeon. “Remember that the next time you think about proving a point at my expense.”
Feral groaned and slapped at the encroaching buns before digging in with what little remained of her energy.
Lenore grimaced, fashioned her own hands into claws and sank them deep into Feral’s tummy. “Lucky you brought a character witness to ringside.” the Courtier noted. “Usually I’d be exploring your top or your trunks by now.”
Savage growled at the threat as Feral impotently smacks Lenore's crushing backside. "That'd be a mistake, Miss Lemachand, one that I couldn't ignore." She tried to keep her cool at the edge of the Pit, but her posture had gotten more aggressive as she waits for her lover to stop thrashing about, signaling the end of this one-sided match-up.
Lenore glanced over one shoulder, eyes narrowed on Savage. “You fighting her battles isn’t going to a damned thing for this burgeoning inferiority complex she’s got going. If watching this makes you uncomfortable,” she paused for a moment to buff Feral’s mouth and nose with a paint-shaker swish of her hips, “Either stay in the back or teach her to fight smarter.”
The blonde held her tongue, so Lemarchand leaned forward, hooked Savage under the knees and neatly tucked them under her knees in a Reverse Matchbook. The increased pressure on her diaphragm forced what little remained of Feral’s oxygen from her lungs to the curve of Lenore’s glutes with a breathy little wheeze. Those scrabbling hands slowed almost at once and after less than ten seconds Feral’s knuckles were limp against the blue floor of the Pit. Lenore shifted her attention to Merle the referee. “She’s out. Count her down.”
There was no question of Feral’s shoulders being down, so the zebra raised a hand and brought it down against the ridge of the Pit. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE!” He turned and showed a signal to the Timekeeper, who sounded the bell promptly.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Announcer called as Lenore got to her feet, “Your winner via pin-fall… LENORE LEMARCHAND!”
At the sound of the bell, Savage vaulted into the pit, nearly bowling Merle over to tend to Feral as Lenore got to her feet and smoothed out her hair and preened for the crowd. The Blonde Bomber cradled Feral in her arms, worriedly waiting for her to regain consciousness, which she shortly did with a series of wheezing coughs, leading Savage to hug her tight "Thank god..." she muttered before getting to her feet and slinging her girlfriend over her shoulder. She grasped Lenore by the arm to get her attention, prompting the Raven' eyes to narrow, expecting some sort of attack. She was mildly surprised to see the bigger girl stick her hand out to her in a show of respect and sportsmanship. "Since Feral can't," she explained, "Thank you for the match, Miss Lemarchand. You sure as hell lived up to your reputation."
Sportsmanship wasn’t something Lenore experienced in the oil and she was hesitant to reciprocate a gesture from a woman called ‘Savage’ but the Raven considered herself an excellent judge of character and after a moment she shook the blonde’s hand. “You’re welcome. But it doesn’t address the problem. You’re too good to be relegated to protecting that one from fights she never should have taken. This ended… as well as could be expected I suppose, but if she’d been in here against Gabby Mendoza? Or Amara Singh? Hell, Sue Burlingame. It could’ve been a LOT uglier, even if you were close by. Those women wouldn’t give a damn that she was out of her depth. They’d just punish her, submit her and probably humiliate her in the aftermath.” Lemarchand withdrew her hand so she could point a finger at Feral. “Make her understand. She may not be a weak link now, but perception is reality and if that doesn’t change she could bring BOTH of you down. Understand?”
Savage frowned but bit her tongue, instead saying "Thank you for the advice, I'll take it to heart." Lenore grunted and nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to leave before Savage's voice halts her again "For the record...I don't fight her battles, and she doesn't fight mine. But our hearts beat as one, Miss Lemarchand, and we look out for each other. That is our biggest strength; Our solidarity. Together, there's nothing we can't accomplish. I truly believe that, and so does she."
“Then get her on the same page.” Lenore replied. “Because from what I’ve seen the looking out for each other is all on you. There are worse things out there than the Halfmoons. And if you’re going to take them on….” Lemarchand started to say something, ultimately decided against it. “Best of luck to you. Both of you.” She turned away and climbed over the wall of the Pit, the victorious battler raising the Raven sigil high overhead as she strode down the aisle amidst an enthusiastic round of applause.
*******
Although their rivalry in FAWN faded through recent years, with Bareback Beth Jenkins not having been seen on FAWN television since being eliminated from the Queens of the Ring tourney as part of the Rough Riders early in the year, it seemed nothing could fire up a hot bowl of rancor like a splash in FAWN’s Oil Pit.
BETH JENKINS:
NYSSA BLOODWIND:
With Nyssa Bloodwind having shown a real aptitude for the oil in an impressive dismantling of Domi Daly, FAWN suits were anxious to get her back in action for the next ‘Pit Stop’ card and who better as her foe than her fellow Arizonan and opposite number in both personality and appearance?
What the duo had in common was a deep hatred of losing to the other and thus far it’s been shown true in slick, slippery fashion with tonight’s action. Beth edged into control as ten minutes ticked by, Jenkins leaning a knee deep between the shoulderblades of the seated Bloodwind. The oil-glazed Native American flashed her pearlies in a grimace, Beth cupping her laced fingers under Nyssa’s chin and reefing back, arching the back and neck of her tawny rival.
“It’s so good to be back,” Bareback grunted. “There’s nothing like beating down a Bloodwind.”
Beth exchanged possession of Nyssa’s chin for a grip on either of the Navajo’s wrists. She pulled Bloodwind’s arms behind her, using them like handlebars.
“Time to submit, bytch. Just like the good ole days.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Jenkins.” Nyssa grunted even as she shook her head ‘no’ for the official. “But we both know that the only quitter in this Pit is youNNNNGGGHH!”
Not about to take any sass from her arch nemesis, Beth got to her feet without relinquishing her Wristlocks meaning there was no way for Bloodwind to defend herself when the redhead came back down and THWHUMPED her right knee between the Arizonan’s shoulders. “Did YOU just call ME a quitter?” Beth sneered, her voice heavy with incredulity. “Just for that I’m not just gonna beat you. I’ll hogtie you like the pig you are.”
Nyssa continued to twist her wrists even though it did nothing for the growing ache in her shoulders. “Kuuuhhhh… keep running that mouth, honey.” she grunted. “It’ll make it all the more satisfying when I brand your punk ass with that tacky tattoo guHUUUURGGGGHHHHH!”
Bloodwind’s predicament went from painful to troublesome when the Babe from Boot Hill transitioned from a Surfboard to a Straightjacket and from troublesome to traumatizing when she rolled Nyssa onto her belly and climbed aboard her lower back for an agonizing variation on the Camel Clutch! “That ain’t never gonna happen, buttercup.” Jenkins cooed into her prey’s ear. “But I’d be happy to smear your face all over the mat, if you’d like.” Nyssa most certainly did not like, which was why the redhead took such great joy in THWHUMPING Bloodwind’s face and chest against the slippery blue plastic before CRAAAAAAANKING back on the Camel Clutch.
Putting her rodeo skills to what she considered very good use, Bareback Beth rode Bloodwind ragged, just THUMPING the Navajo into the Pit floor time after time, Bloodwind's flawless features leading the way with her arms occupied in the straightjacket grip. Satisfied when the FAWNatics counted out the final of ten faceplants, Beth releases Nyssa's wrists and claimed a standard Camel, bending the glistening Bloodwind in a backbreaking arc, the golden brown skin scantily covered by the Native American's faux deerskin bikini.
A mewling Nyssa was forced to look into the blazing lights above the Pit, the lamps making the oil warm and, if anything, more slippery. Nyssa tried to use the greased skin-to-skin contact as a way of escape but the ruby-red bikini-ed Jenkins knew how to keep her fillies in check and kept stretching out Bloodwind's vertebrae. Jenkins kept things simple in her demands. "TAP!" she shouted in Nyssa's ear. "Or you're going to be in traction." Beth unhooked the digits making her cup and sent the index fingers of each hand fish hooking into the corner of Nyssa's mouth, creating a gruesome smile on the Navajo warrior.
The Bitchy Bridle earned groans of sympathy from the capacity crowd as well as official Craig Long, who once again asked Bloodwind for her surrender. Nyssa couldn’t well answer with a mouthful of talons so she shook her head ‘no’, much to the redhead’s disgust. “Don’t think I won’t ruin this pretty little smile of yours.” she taunted. “Wrecking your overrated ass is a damned fine way to let Mendoza and Lemarchand know I’m gonna be tagging them with my brand sooner than OOOOWWWW SHYT!”
Nyssa finally got at an angle where she could chomp down on Jenkins’s fingers and she wasted no time in doing exactly that. Far less interested in her rival’s dentistry now that the Arizonan was fighting back, Beth yanked her hands away, stood up and immediately dropped into a squat to THWHUMP her butt against the small of Bloodwind’s back. “Still biting, huh?” she slapped the back of Nyssa’s head a few times. “Guess you’re not as tame as I thought. We’ll have to work on that.” With that, she got to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “On your knees, shytbird.” Jenkins demanded. “Don’t waste my time.”
Nyssa moaned, braced her hands against the mat and slowly forced her way to all fours. Above, Beth taunted the audience with a knowing wink, then leapt up and raised her legs to waist level to ensure an atomic butt-- “UUUUUNNNNNGGGHHH!” Bloodwind rolled onto her back and pulled both knees across her chest, thus ensuring that Jenkins endured a most unpleasant landing. It wasn’t all sweetness and light for Nyssa either as Beth’s weight compressed her legs against her sternum, but she was finally free to tend to her aches and pains once the redhead tumbled away and the Nubile Navajo counted that as a victory.
Hand plastered to the base of her backbone, Nyssa still managed to prop herself in a seated position, watching a balled Beth bury her hands into her bruised kitty. Jenkins's baby blues welling, Bareback let fly with a string of expletives as she slowly forced her way up to vertical. Features twisted in pain, Bareback looked as though she's been on a horse for a couple days straight, such was her wide stance. On her knees, Nyssa watched the bowed legs with some satisfaction. She motioned Beth to come get her and Jenkins gritted her teeth as she waddled toward Bloodwind.
When Beth was within a couple feet, the Navajo surged forward, swinging an arm between Beth's pale stems. She momentarily collected Jenkins in a kneeling Fireman's Carry on the way to flipping her foe to the Pit floor. Turning, she scrambled toward the spilled Beth, diving on top of her in a full body to body pin, north-south style. Great minds thinking alike, each wrapped a lower-leg Scissors around the head of their foe and tried to make their calves as useful as their thighs in wearing the other down.
The strained tableau of copper atop alabaster earned the usual show of tawdry support from the more prurient FAWNatics, yet there was nothing sexy about the pressure each woman poured onto the pate of her rival. Nyssa had the better position at first glance, she was stretched out atop Beth after all. But what she gained in leverage she lost in vision, as Jenkins’s Scissors meant the former LW champ’s forehead was pressed firm against the floor of the Pit. As for Beth, she didn’t much care for looking up at the lights with her noggin flanked by Bloodwind’s thighs, yet the redhead made the most of her situation by CRAAAACKING her hands against Nyssa’s gleaming glutes after only a few seconds of stalemate.
“Get your scrawny ass legs away from my head, Bloodwind.” she grunted. Nyssa grumbled something that had to be a denial, considering it was followed by a prolonged squeeze and a sharp rake of well-manicured nails down her flanks. “Fine, if that’s how you want it.” Jenkins took hold of Nyssa’s waistband and YANKED like she meant to make it disappear! Bloodwind wailed in pain and outrage but didn’t have the positioning to answer with a retaliatory wedgie. Instead she wormed her arms around the redhead’s thighs and tried to tumble ‘em both onto their sides.
Still in dueling Scissors, Beth on her left shoulder and hip and Nyssa on her right, the women poured every ounce of strength into their head-bracketing stems and it's the cowgirl who blinked first. The redhead's concentration broken from causing Nyssa pain to prying at Bloodwind's greasy golden-brown gams, trying desperately to free herself. Having apparently won the Scissors Face-off, the Navajo warrior shook free of what's left of the Scissors from Jenkins. She rotated her frame well outside the ability of Beth's legs to reach her while maintaining the crushing power of her own pressing lower limbs.
"Care to reevaluate?" Nyssa asked with syrupy sweetness. Bareback Beth raked both sets of nails down the glistening legs of her foe, unlocking Bloodwind's scissors. The freed, freckled fighter shook out some cobwebs and slowly struggled toward her feet on the slippery surface. Bloodwind was already there and waiting, landing a set of Tomahawk Chops into either nape of Beth's ivory neck. One set drew a pained grimace as Beth's legs gave a shudder, a second set drove Jenkins to her knees. Nyssa then grabbed a handful of Bareback's strawberry blonde mop to hold her in place and jolted her jaw with a raised knee.
Beth’s head whipped away from the Kneelift, but the Babe from Boot Hill SMECKED Nyssa’s tummy with a few woozy slaps, a sure sign to Nyssa that she still had work to do. Jostling the redhead’s noggin from side to side, Bloodwind set her feet and pak-pak-PAAAKED half a dozen more Kneelifts between the opposing Arizonan’s eyes before quickly transitioning into a Standing Headscissors. “I think it’s pretty obvious my legs are stronger.” Nyssa said with a teasing smirk. “But there’s no reason we can’t show yours off a little while longer.”
“Eeeerrrggghhh… keep talking, Bloodynose.” Beth huffed. “You’re gonna wish you’d stayed quiet once HEY! STOP THAT! NO, DOOOOOOON’T!”
But Bloodwind, who’d already stuffed Jenkins’s left ankle into the pit of her right knee, paid these histrionics no mind. Instead she grabbed her nemesis’s right foot and pulled up to trap those stems in a quick yet effective Deathlock. Hooks properly set, she dipped her knees and sloooooooooooowly muscled Beth up until she could strengthen her control with a Half Waistlock. “How you doing down there, baby?” Nyssa chided as she continued to tug and crank on those knotted legs. “Ready to admit you’re done?”
“GO TO HELL!” Jenkins shouted. “I’M GONNA--” Bloodwind hopped up, kicked her legs out straight and landed on her butt to THWHONK the crown of Beth’s skull into the Pit floor with one of, if not thee best, Piledrivers in FAWN. Jenkins actually bounced back on her heels, wavered there for a moment, then timbered into the shallow, oily sea with a thoroughly out of it SPU-LAT!
Even with the Pit's padding, the impact of the perfect Piledriver knocked Bareback Beth's consciousness clean out of Dodge. Left in a snoozing spread eagle, Jenkins' body spasmed involuntarily a few times before falling still. In a state of silence were the Pitside FAWNatics, all of ’em shocked at Nyssa's ability to somehow keep her feet planted on the slippery surface while collecting and planting the glistening ivory-skinned cowgirl in Boot Hill.
Seated next to the splayed Bareback, Nyssa slid her ass across the oily floor then the greased alabaster body of the demolished Jenkins. The rare Pit knockout had the crowd confused but Bloodwind seemed to have expected nothing less, taking a domineering seat on Beth's chest, her calves bracketing Bareback on either side. The Navajo snatched a handful of strawberry blonde locks and lifted the noggin of the blasted cowgirl. "Have you learned that Natives do it better?" Bloodwind nodded Beth's creased cranium for her. "Now go back to Tombstone and never come back or I might get personal next time. Understand?" Nyssa again nodded for the freckled, fallen fighter then tossed Jenkins' braincase away.
Bloodwind pushed to her feet, planting a foot on the battered bosom of the cratered cowgirl. She turned to a lens. "There is no royalty in this Pit. Only survivors. And I'll outlast them all."
******
GINNIFER CHADWICK:
SUSANNAH BURLINGAME:
Having noted the success, not to mention general delight, of her partner at dominating the opposition in FAWN’s newest medium, ‘Gorgeous’ Ginnifer Chadwick decided to try her hand in the Oil Pit at a House Show in Sarasota earlier in the month. Her first outings proved unqualified successes, the sturdy blonde battler defeating Frankie Sellers and then Marisa Fuentes with her Gorgeous Hammerlock, much to the displeasure of those in attendance. Of course the Gorgeous One wasn’t satisfied with such low hanging fruit for very long. With the aforementioned victories under the slim pink belt of her fightin’ black two-piece, Chadwick sauntered down to the Pit at a Friday night show in Tallahassee and demanded that ‘any tramp who thinks she can hang with me get down here right now so I can show her how very, very wrong she is.’
Open challenges in FAWN tended to be high risk, high reward affairs and this proved no different as none other than former World Champion and current Ace of the Black Court Sue Burlingame strolled down to the Pit and stepped inside with nothing more than a smirk and a beckoning finger for the suddenly silent blonde.
The next fifteen minutes or so proved remarkably back and forth, with the younger wrestler holding her own against the Rainmaker’s offensive efforts and even countering with her own on a few occasions. But Burlingame wasn’t a two (almost three) time World Champion for no reason and eventually she caught Chadwick where we currently find her -- a slumped seat with Burlingame’s right leg flung over that shoulder, the Courtier’s heel snug against Ginnifer’s inner thigh to keep that leg from causing too much trouble. As for her arms, they’re stretched out in a wide ‘Y’ shape with the left bent awkwardly across the gleaming plank of her opponent’s thigh. Above the seated battler, Burlingame smiled and waggled her hips just enough to grind ‘em against the back of Ginnifer’s noggin. “You’ve been doing good so far, Ginny.” she teased. “I hope you don’t intend to start boring me now.”
If Chadwick was waiting for a rhythmic clap to accumulate among the FAWNatics and provide the impetus to escape, the crowd was growing increasingly tardy and Gabby's G-Thang partner's fluttering biceps failed to force her free. Leaning her head forward, The Gorgeous One, grimacing in pain and frustration used a little ingenuity, slamming her noggin backwards, the aft portion of her braincase ramming into Susan's crotch.
It's not power-packed but considering the placement, it's enough to convince the oily Ace to release and dismount, waddling away a few steps, trying to swallow any sign of pain. She regained her focus and stepped to the still seated Ginnifer, sending a soccer kick toward Chadwick's lower spine. The greased and glistening blonde leaned to the side and captured Burlingame's calf between her ribs and right bicep. Yanking the possessed limb forward, Ginnifer spilled the future FAWN Hall of Famer to her backside with ease, the slippery blue plastic aiding the youngster in her gambit. She turned and Scissors up on Sue's lower limb, using an Ankle Lock at the near end to try and unscrew Burlingame's foot from the remainder of her leg.
“How’s that, Bytch-Face?” Chadwick sneered as she put some hard miles on the veteran’s ankle. “Still feeling bored?”
Sue swatted the floor with both hands, shook her head ‘no’, either for Ginnifer, the ref or both. “Not bored, disappointed.” Burlingame grunted. “Figured your mom would’ve taught you to hook a better Ankle Lock than OOOOWWWW DAMMIT BYTCH!”
Ginnifer halved her grip on Sue’s foot to clamp down on her toes, which she promptly tried to twist off! “Yeah, you’re not so tough!” the blonde taunted. “No wonder you had to suck up to West to keep yourself relevant! Without them to back you up you’d have been jerking curtains years agNGH!”
Sue sat up with one hand braced flat for leverage. The other she curled into a fist and brought down on the meat of Chadwick’s thigh once, twice, three times.”
Ginnifer grimaced, but didn’t abandon the Ankle Lock, in fact she poured on that much more pressure. “That it, slut? I thought you would at least make me work before I sat on your fa--”
Sue reached out with viper quickness to snatch a huge handful of the blonde’s oil-soaked locks. Pulling Chadwick’s head forward and down, Burlingame flattened her other hand into a paddle and slapped the side of the newcomer’s noggin. “Let go of my foot, cutie.” the Ace demanded. “Unless you want me to slap the taste out of that filthy little mouth.”
Apparently convinced Burlingame just might, Ginnifer acceded to Susan's order. But as quickly, she barrel rolled atop Susan's tawny gams and unloaded her folded alabaster versions into a horizontal stomp to Susan's gurls. The piston-like legs flattened Sue to the Pit floor at rocket speed and, with her body on top, Ginnifer found the oil to her liking, sliding up Burlingame's frame. Her ass settled atop Sue's bosom and her legs started to encircle the pained visage of the Ace. Ivory thighs framed Sue's cheeks and jaws, Ginnifer locking her ankles over Susan's head and bringing the crushing power of her Headscissors to bear. She only increased the strength by wiggling further up Burlingame until Chadwick's crotch was tight to Susan's chin, the Gorgeous One looking to gain a pressure-packed knockout with her thighs instead of a surrender.
"Say nighty-night you ancient relic."
Susan didn’t like the blonde’s tone in the slightest, alas there wasn’t much she could do about it in her current position. Looking to change that as swiftly as possible, she reached around with both hands and gave the newcomer a taste of championship claws in the form of dual raaaaaaaakes along glute and thigh. Chadwick sneered, grabbed one wrist and THUMPED that hand against the floor of the Pit. “Nice try, Bytch Face. Do it again and I’ll give you a face full of NGH! NGH! NGH!”
Susan brought her right knee up fast, driving the point of it into Chadwick’s lower back until the blonde tossed the wrist away to hook the taller woman’s encroaching leg behind the knee. “Still not taking me seriously, huh?” she taunted. “You’re gonna regret that!” The Gorgeous One plunged her free hand into Sue’s hair and jerked forward, stuffing the Courtier’s incredulous features against her undercarriage! “Yeah, how’s that feel? Huh? How’s that feel you old bytch?”
Now that her legs and trunks were doing the heavy lifting, Ginnifer relinquished her hair hold just to indulge in an aggressive radio-dial twist on Burlingame’s left nipple. “Give it up, hag! You’re finished!” Burlingame squealed a nonsense reply, her left heel beating against the Pit for several seconds before she brought it up in an attempt to hook the blonde’s arm.
Dishing out 'the dial' just cause she could, the second-gen superstar got a little too much into the gameplay and not the put-away. Burlingame's rising lower limb slipped under the blonde's armpit and wrapped around her right shoulder. Straightening her leg before Ginnifer could clamp it down in a Matchbook, Chadwick's peeled off the greasy face of the Ace. Susan coughed to life, dark eyes a bit blurry from lack of oxygen under the Gorgeous One's seat. A bit flustered by the turn of events, Gin Blossom back somersaulted to her haunches, poised for an attack from Burlingame that's not quite ready, Sue still sputtering and getting off her back. Ginnifer knee-walked across the slick plastic and reached Burlingame with the tawny-skinned brunette reaching the same position. The women threw their bikini-clad bodies against each other, seeking leverage to flatten the other. Chadwick doesn't fold, literally or figuratively, as chins dug into opposing napes and biceps flex in oily relief.
"It's my time," Ginnifer insisted. "G-Thang is the thang." yt
Susan didn’t reply with words, rather she hand-fights with the blonde until she’s able to catch one wrist in a tight clamp. Just like that she wrenched it behind Chadwick’s back and torqued up in a Hammerlock. Scowling, Ginnifer grabbed a handful of hair and gave it a hard yank. “My wrist is stronger than your roots, Bytch Face.” she explained. “Now let go before I feed you these tacky extensOOOOWWWWW FAHK!”
Burlingame treated the Gorgeous One to a lesson in classic AHW tactics when she wedged the point of her chin in just below Ginnifer’s jawline and dug around like she was trying to drill straight through! Chadwick forgot all about Sue’s hair in her effort to halt the painful tactic. Alas, Burlingame did not forget about the blonde’s other wrist and she caught it as deftly as she had the first. A second Hammerlock followed, both of Ginnifer’s arms pinned snug behind her back, those lean limbs trapped in place thanks to the S-grip Sue used to complete her unorthodox Bear Hug. “Gotta say, you need no instruction on how to be a brat.” the Rainmaker said after the first protracted squeeze. “But being a bytch? Sweetie, there’s a whole LOT I can teach you.” With that she went back to the Chin Gouge, Sue going at the softest parts of Ginnifer’s neck.
With her arms deftly removed from the battle and the pain in her trapezius growing by the second, Ginnifer progressively leaning in the direction of Sue's subtle attack, Chadwick tried to wrest her arms loose. While she did, Burlingame advanced on her knees, thumping her bronzed body into Ginnifer's. One collision wobbled the blonde, the next sent the greased Gorgeous One flopping to her back, thighs folded atop calves, arms still stuck behind her. Susan's frame landed on top, her arms also occupied behind and now under Gabby's partner. But Burlingame had gravity and baby oil on her side, Sue's torso sliding down the backward angle Ginnifer now occupied, The Ace's cleavage slowly sliding toward her chin.
Gin Blossom's face twisted from side to side as the glistening bosom approached. "You better not even think," Chadwick warned. "Because if yoummmppphhh." Ginnifer's wriggling couldn’t prevent Susan's rack from burying the mouth and nose of the Gorgeous One, giving Chadwick even more impetus to try and wriggle free.
“Not just thinking about it sweetheart. I’m doing it!” Sue was all smiles as she scrubbed and buffed her girls across the other wrestler’s struggling features. But effective and photogenic though the position was, Burlingame didn’t much like having her arms out of play, so she worked the JMD mount for a few more seconds before letting loose and pulling her hands out from under the sputtering blonde. Then she reared back into a more traditional mount and CRAAACKED a gaudy bytch slap across Ginnifer’s cheek while she was gasping for air! Sue liked the sound of it so much she slapped Chadwick again, then grabbed her wrists when the Gorgeous One raised a guard.
“C’mon, you’re not just gonna let an old lady slap you out, are ya cutie?” she teased.
“Bytch, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into!” Chadwick threatened. “I’m gonna strip you down when I get outta--” she wrested her hands free and twisted around onto her belly in hopes of sliding free of Burlingame’s mount. This proved a disastrous mistake as the Ace immediately caught her biceps and wrenched ‘em back over the oil-sheened planks of the thighs.
A Camel Clutch would’ve been problematic enough, unfortunately for Ginnifer the former World Champ had something different in mind. Hunching forward, Burlingame curled her right arm under the blonde’s chin and then drew back to craaaaaaaaaaaank Chadwick’s neck. “Ooooohhhh, looks like you’re in real trouble now!” Sue teased as she poured it on with the Root of All Evil. “I wonder how it could possibly get worse?” The answer of course, was jugg-work, Sue treating herself to some white-knuckled vengeance on Ginnifer’s left nipple.
Ginnifer screeched in pain as her legs flailed wildly, toes sliding over top of the oiled plastic as she tried to move within her foe's grasp. Chadwick fought to get her knees under her but Susan's lowered backside spared her no room to do so. Forced to stare at the beaming lights over the Pit as Susan's Root curved her vertebrae at an incredible angle, Ginnifer's air and bloodflow were cut to minuscule levels from the tight, brawny grip around her throat. The Evil of Susan's finisher only multiplied by the slick surface and the delight with which the FAWNatics seemed to revel in Gin Blossom's increasingly close demise. Knowing she's stuck but not wanting to admit, Ginnifer was overcome by the increasing feeling of floating out of her body, the busted blonde forced to surrender before she becomes nothing but a ragdoll in Burlingame's arms.
Susan released the pincer when Chadwick slapped a surrender out on the floor, but she kept the Root otherwise intact to she could treat the crowd to a bicep flex and three sharp, taunting slaps to the underside of the Gorgeous One’s left breast once she was declared the winner. Taking a moment to catch her breath and mop a forearm across her brow once the grip’s been relinquished, Sue moved south down the blonde’s back and teased going for the clasp on her top only to roll her onto her back instead. “There was a lot of tuff talk coming outta here earlier.” Sue patted the blonde’s flushed cheek. “Time you found out what happens when you can’t back it up.”
“Scuuuhhh…. screw you, bytch face.” Chadwick moaned. “You had to win that fight inside my topMMMMMPPPPHHHHH!”
Susan whipped around and slid back to settle down with all her weight on Ginnifer’s upturned nose. Arms trapped overhead, Chadwick could only squirm and twist when Burlingame finally removed her top with a snappy little flourish. Draping this trophy across the back of her neck, the Ace ‘smecked’ both hands down on the blonde’s undefended bounty, then began the slow, thorough process of introducing Ginnifer to the best seat in the house.
Already down to dregs as far as her reserves were concerned, the Gorgeous One succumbed to unconsciousness in less than thirty seconds, not that this stopped Sue from reminding Ginnifer… and any other potential adversaries, that she was as dangerous in the Pit as she was in the squared circle.
********
GABBY MENDOZA:
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
It wasn’t often that a non-title match closed a FAWN show, even on the House Show circuit. But that’s just what the good folks in Gainesville got on the fed’s last stop and not a one of them seemed to mind the lack of a golden prize at the top of the card. Which wasn’t to say the contest was without stakes, far from it. Indeed there was a palpable big fight feel in the air the very moment Lenore Lemarchand stepped into the Oil Pit to defend her official unofficial title of Oil Baroness against the undefeated Baby Faced Killer, Gabby Mendoza.
The pace proved frenetic from the outset, with both brunettes practically hurling themselves at their adversary to gain an advantage only to have their fortunes reversed and reversed again, often within the span of seconds. So it went for more than twenty minutes, the Raven and her gum chompin’ challenger torturing one another with a nearly impossible to call blend of saloon brawling, technical submission brilliance and penthouse catfight savagery. Another five minutes passed before the pace finally began to slow, with Lemarchand gluing Mendoza to the floor of the Pit courtesy of a Headlock made all the more uncomfortable thanks to Lenore scissoring the Texan’s left arm between her thighs.
Yet Mendoza proved a tenacious foe even down a hand and with her chin wedged into the crook of Lemarchand’s armpit. She’d plunged her left hand into Lenore’s hair and pulled like she meant to take the Courtier’s scalp instead of her briefs. The Fair & Radiant Maiden endured this punishment for several seconds before she freed up one hand and repaid the Lethal Latina with a hair pull of her own.
“Let go of my hair, Mendoza.” Lemarchand growled. “Or this’ll only get worse.”
Gabby answered with her hardest yank yet. “F*ckin’ right it will, bytch face.” she huffed. “I’ll make you scream when I get out of thiSSMMMMMRRRRPPPPHHHHH!”
Lenore stopped pulling and started smothering, pressing that hand over Gabby’s mouth and nose! Pinching the former Lightweight Champ’s nostrils between thumb and forefinger, Lemarchand snarled, “You’re not going anywhere, honey. Not unless you’re ready to give up those pretty little briefs. Only fair after all, since mine are on the line already.”
The Babyfaced Killer shook her head, trying to uncover her breathing passages but couldn’t quite get free sufficiently to find a big gulp of oxygen. She let her fingers slip free of Lenore's brunette locks. Not waiting to see if the Raven would return the favor, La Chica Pertoleo instead snatched Lemarchand's wrist and ripped off the covering palm and pinching fingers. Mendoza spat out her pink wad in order to get bigger and better lungfuls. She slipped across the blue plastic covering of the Pit, trying to get her legs under but it's a difficult task with one arm captured and the other occupied.
Meanwhile, Lenore still tugged viciously at the ebony ponytail of the Texan, using it as a handle. "It must be a terrible thing, Lenore huffed, "to believe you have a chance when you don't. You beat some stiffs. But this is my Pit, little girl."
Gabby growled in effort and managed to get her legs folded beneath her. On her knees with Lenore on her pert, ivory backside still scissoring her left arm, Mendoza tried to unlock the snaking stems in the most direct way possible, striking at the 'keyhole'. The would-be usurper to the Baroness leaned forward, stuffing a palm heel strike toward the center of Lenore's title-affirming trunks.
Lemarchand grunted in distressed irritation as the challenger caught her once, twice, three times. The last shot freed Mendoza’s trapped arm but she still remained mired in the Headlock, which only got tighter when Lenore locked her hands in a white knuckled S-clasp. Scrambling to her knees with Gabby’s mug smooshed up against the curves of her modest chest, the Courtier knee-walked over to the edge of the Pit and BWONKED Mendoza’s forehead against the wall. It didn’t have nearly the impact of canvas or even a turnbuckle, but it was still rather disorienting and extremely disrespectful as far as Gabby was concerned.
The proximity of that smothering bounty would’ve ensured a particularly toothsome escape on any other night, alas the oil and Lenore’s hatefully snug grip ensured the Terrible Texan couldn’t get her chew on. Anger growing in time with the blood pounding at her temples, Mendoza returned to the hair hold and yaaaaaaaaanked hard enough to make Lenore hiss in anguish. A good start, but Gabby demanded full freedom, so she raked Lemarchand’s belly, then slid that hand south in search of more vulnerable--
“Don’t think so, bytch.” Lenore halved the Headlock to seize the other brunette’s wrist. “Keep your gummy little fingers away from OOOOOOOOWWWWW SHYT!”
Mendoza twisted into the slippery coil and bit down hard, the thin lycra of Lemarchand’s top offering nothing in the way of protection.
Springing free of the Headlock by way of her chomping choppers, Gabby showed she could chew more than gum, gnawing on Lenore's side-boob. With freedom garnered, Mendoza was more than willing to bring an end to her snack. She quickly used the oil to fully extricate herself from the previously octopus-like Courtier, slipping her left arm from between the loosened stems of her oily rival.
On more or less even terms for the first time in minutes, Gabby didn’t consider pulling back for an instant. Instead she dove on top of the butt-scooting Raven. Going full body-on-body, the glistening Latina slithered her legs around the dangerous lower limbs of the Baroness, controlling them as best she could in a Grapevine. Gabby used the slippery Pit floor to sneak her arms underneath Lenore's spine and cinch the limbs into a tight Bear Hug, hoping to squeeze the air from the Unfair and Shadowy Bitch. Gabby drew a gasp and a forced exhale then a groan as she bore down. Unfortunately, the Courtier didn’t waste her time in prying at the embrace. Instead she wrapped her arms behind the head of La Chica Petroleo and STUFFED the greasy features of Mendoza's baby face into her glazed gurls.
“Bite me again, see what happens.” Lenore threatened in the midst of trying to crimp Gabby’s nose against her sternum. “Maybe you’ll have the chance to tap out before you pass UUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH!”
Mendoza doubled down on the Bear Hug and Grapevine simultaneously to earn a low, reverberating groan of pain from her opponent. Much as Gabby would’ve loved crushing Lemarchand body to body, she knew she had get free of the Front Sleeper sooner than later, so she abandoned the Hug in favor of burying both hands in the taller brunette’s hair. A few quick thumps against the Pit floor didn’t do the trick so she palmed the Raven’s noggin on either side and clawing at her eyes! Lenore groaned, turned her head to one side and traded her coil for an especially vicious tug on Gabby’s hair. The Texan endured this without complaint, in fact she managed a smile once she turned her head away from Lemarchand’s smother.
“Let go of my hair, bytch face.” she huffed after a few deep breaths. “Or I’ll treat these tiny tits like a wad of Big League Chew!”
“Keep away from my top, Mendoza.” the Raven warned. “Otherwise I’ll make you paAAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!”
Gabby didn’t take too kindly to threats, so she bit down on Lenore’s bust just as she’d promised. “Give up!” she demanded once she’d taken a break several seconds later. “Before I have to chew you up and spit you OOOOOOOFFFFFFFHHHHHHH!”
Lenore wrenched her legs free of the Grapevine and immediately set about rearranging the Latina’s midsection with a gut-churning Bodyscissors. Rocked back onto her haunches by the power of the Courtier’s Scissors, Mendoza only clawed at those encroaching thighs for a heartbeat or two before she retaliated with her own Palm Smother and a pincer grip on the nipple she’d targeted prior.
"You think I'm playing," Gabby grunted. "But I'm going to pass you out and mess you up. I could OWN any lightweight , but I want more. Today the Pit. Tomorrow the World." Mendoza dialed up the pressure literally, forcing Lenore to shriek into the Latina's smothering, greasy palm. Unsatisfied with the nip grip over Lemarchand's lycra, she slipped her hand underneath and went right to the source. Meanwhile, Lenore flexed her thighs, drawing a moan from Mendoza, the Raven crushing both sets of ribs of La Chica Petroleo.
Deciding the smother was working too slowly, Gabby pulled her palm and curled it into a fist, sending it careening toward Lenore's jawline. The Baroness got a forearm up to block the blow and delivered another pulse through her legs, forcing a grimacing Gabby to pull her hands into defense, trying to work some slack between her oily sides and the bracketing ivory stems. Even with grease between their skin, Lenore's Scissors ground away, convincing Mendoza to interlock her fingers in a Double Axhandle and senT them down in a blow toward her foe's bloodpumper, hopping to defibrillate the Raven then bury her under an avalanche of smooth, slippery golden-brown tummy.
Hands otherwise occupied by the Baby Faced Killer’s claws, Lenore couldn’t muster an adequate defense before the Axehandle THUMPED against her sternum. Already short of breath, the Fair & Radiant Maiden let out a woozy ‘OOOOFFFFH!’ when Mendoza connected once, then twice.
Sighing with relief when those damned Scissors finally loosened, Gabby braced her hands against the sides of Lemarchand’s knees and pushed down to slide her way to freedom. Quickly settling into a heavy straddle of the Baroness’s waist, Mendoza collected her wrists, then thumped them against the Pit floor before leaning forward to reapply the Double Leg Grapevine AND a face smudging Tummy Smother! “Ohhh, that feels nice!” Gabby giggled as Lenore wailed against her oil-slicked midsection. “So do you want to give it up now or do I have to crush your nose first?”
Lemarchand twisted like a live wire but the Lethal Latina held her fast, Gabby proving an expert at distributing her weight to ride out the worst of it. “I told you, this Pit is mine.” the tawny brunette chided after she’d wedged Lenore’s wrists together. “That means you’re mine too!”
With the Raven’s hands sufficiently corralled, Gabby reached down between her own splayed stems to wreak havoc on Lenore’s crotch, Mendoza’s callous claw honing in on the outline of her foe’s womanhood clearly limned against those straining black trunks.
Shuddering under the forceful execution of her two-pronged attack, Lenore was ground beneath the Babyfaced Killer's belly button while being ravaged below by her delving digits. The Terrible Texan, noticing her masticated Hubba Bubba, sugar-free of course, removed her Crotch Claw long enough to snatch the nearby wad and go low again. This time she 'chewed' both the gum and Lenore's kitty simultaneously, working the wad into the Raven's privates, going nuclear on the fading Courtier.
"Gin Blossom had the tougher task last weekend, so-called Baroness," Gabby huffed. "But I'll get Burlingame next. Both of them." Having forced a muffled howl from Lenore into her tummy with another particularly heinous squeeze of her foe's hotbox, Gabby withdrew her hand from beneath the triangle of spandex, gum not emerging with her. Left hand joins right behind Lenore's noggin, forcing the Raven's beak and lips further into glistening, golden abs.
"Tap now. Or don't. Either way I'm making you as scared of the Pit as you made Amara."
In far more trouble tonight than she’d ever experienced against the Empress, Lenore forced herself to ignore the disgusting gummy intrusion in favor of larger concerns. Vision tunneling thanks to the asphyxiating blanket of the challenger’s tummy, Lemarchand set her freed hands to work, just slapping and pounding at Mendoza’s sturdy flanks.
“Not enough!” Gabby chirped. “Just admit it, bytch face! You bit off more than you can chew and I’m the only real Oil Baroness this place will ever neEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!”
Lenore grabbed a double handful of Mendoza’s scant magenta briefs and pulled them up like she meant to saw the smaller brunette in half! Wincing in pain, Gabby freed one hand to reach back and try to prize the Courtier’s talons from her waistband. “Let go.” she grunted. “I mean it, slut. Let go of my bottoms or I’ll AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH DAMMIT!”
Lemarchand paid back an earlier indignity with crippling interest when she pressed her lips to Mendoza’s navel and chomped down as hard as she could! Mendoza pulled away from the bite on instinct but this proved a costly error as not only did it give the Raven a chance to breathe, it allowed her to thread her legs around Gabby’s in a Grapevine administered from below. Breathing deep for what came next, Lenore clamped down on Mendoza’s biceps and hoisted her into the air for a spine-wrenching Reverse Romero Special!
REVERSE ROMERO SPECIAL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzZIlodNTOE
Lemarchand had no idea how long she’d be able to keep the hold applied, so she jostled and jounced Gabby as hard as she could to exacerbate the painful U-curve in the Lethal Latina’s spine. “Who’s scared now, bytch?” Lenore rasped. “Better yet, who’s the Baroness?”
In a brutal combination of both shock and pain, Gabby's eyes dark eyes bulged with both. Hardly believing the force of muscle and will involved in her new position, her legs stretched, her backbone suddenly feeling as though it might be snapped, Lenore's hands dug into her armpits to keep her aloft above while her raised legs keep Mendoza airborne on the lower end. Having gone from stretch run to stretched like taffy, anxiety filled the eyes of the extended Latina. Each limb captured in the ingenious display, Gabby could do little but drip baby oil onto the torturer from below.
"Say it," Lenore demanded succinctly.
Mendoza shook her head, spraying oil with her pony and squeaked out a 'no' from nearly pursed lips. She couldn’t keep this up, Mendoza seemed to be telling herself.
But second after long second the Baroness did.
Gabby tried to swing her arms and reach Lenore's face with her fists, but Lemarchand cleverly moved her grips to Gabby's biceps, cutting her foe's reach and leaving Mendoza far short. Lenore added a violent shake, widening her legs even further and Gabby was soon sobbing.
"How in the hell?" she cried to no one in particular "How are you?"
"I'm more than a talker, little girl." Lenore grunted.
And as the FAWNatics watched in stunned silence, Gabby began pleading for release from the agony, finally screaming the magic words.
"You're the Baroness! I give. I GIVE!"
The bell sounded at once, but Lenore Gabby repeat her admission several more times before she shoved her to one side. Quivering with exertion now that the battle was over, Lemarchand clambered to verticality and planted one heel between Mendoza’s breasts before offering the fans and the Gladiatrix photogs a double bicep flex. She was just about to hoist the Raven sigil when Gabby put a hand against her foot and shoved it away.
“Guuuhhhh…. get offa me, bytch face.”
Eyes flashing dark and mean, the Fair & Radiant Maiden raised that foot again only to bring it THUMPING down in the pit of her foe’s stomach! Mendoza sat up or at least tried to, she’d barely made it halfway when Lenore grabbed her shoulders and forced her flat. Kneeling above the Texan’s head, Lemarchand toddled forward and sat down hard enough to engulf Gabby’s nose between her bunched buttocks. “Yeah, I’m the Baroness.” she repeated as Mendoza squealed into her undercarriage. “And you know what you are? You’re just a wad of gum that needs to get scraped off the floor of my Pit!”
With that she undid the bow at the center of Gabby’s top and set to work on the other brunette’s nubs with a malicious double pincer.
Mendoza wailed even louder, the sound muffled to little more than a pleasant buzz against the Courtier’s nethers. Tweaking and twisting until Gabby’s protests had faded to a soft burble, Emily’s Lady in Waiting abruptly hunched over, hooked her thumbs into the leg holes of Mendoza’s bottoms and slowly peeeeeled them down her ankles. On her feet once she’d fully divested Gabby of her attire, Lenore held the trophy high overhead, the victorious battler making sure to turn to all four sides of the arena to show off the ‘Eat It, Bytch Face!’ emblazoned across the seat.
“I know, I know, I can’t leave you like this, with nothing but the loser tee-shirt to wear to the back.” Lemarchand told the greasy-faced challenger. “Here, I’ve got an accessory I think you’ll like.”
Grimacing, she slid a hand into her trunks and gently removed the gum Mendoza had inflicted upon her earlier. The crowd let loose with an ‘OH NO SHE DIN’T!’ gasp, but of course Lenore did, the vindictive battler doubling over to stick it directly between Gabby’s eyes.
“Chew on that, bytch face.” She showed off the oil-soaked trophy once more, then strutted out of the Pit, leaving Gabby to slumber fitfully while the crowd filed out into the night.
~rf
**************
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
Bodyscissors snug around her opponent’s slim waist, Lenore Lemarchand hunched forward, slipped her left arm around the other woman’s throat and wrenched her head backward in a painfully snug Inverted Facelock. In the same breath she laid out flat, raised her crossed legs and squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezed down those vulnerable ribs. This raised a round of thrashing and squirming from her adversary, but Lemarchand weathered the storm and it wasn’t long before the resistance faded to manageable levels.
“Now as I understand it,” Lenore said over the excited buzz of the house show crowd, “This contract was offered to either member of your team. And while I won’t deny that the Oil Pit is a great equalizer when it comes to height and weight differences, sweetie, I have to ask, what in the HELL possessed you to take this match?”
FERAL:
Feral responded with guttural curse so Lemarchand bore down on the Beast Choker once more, the Fair & Radiant Maiden jostling her Scissors and reefing back on the Dragon Sleeper to keep grinding away at the faltering Lightweight. Displeased by the lack of response, Lenore twisted her head in the direction of Feral’s partner and arched an eyebrow in the hopes that Savage could bring light to the dark of her ignorance.
SAVAGE:
Savage watched from the edge of the pit, worry for her girlfriend plain on her face. She’d spent the match shouting words of encouragement to Feral, trying to help her get the hang of the Pit on the fly. She noticed Lenore's eyes on her, and she met her gaze. "She insisted on proving she wasn't the dead weight of the team, which is complete bullshyt, but here we are." she answered for Feral, who was too busy trying to wriggle free to engage the Raven in conversation
“Hmmmmmmmhhh.” Lemarchand’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as she processed this information. “Bullshyt indeed, considering you executed a perfect Phoenix Splash in that match against the War Party. Yes, you got fooled by the Halfmoon Switch, but who hasn’t? And I can appreciate the desire to get back out there as fast as you can, yet the Pit is a different landscape altogether, as I think you’re starting to learn.” Lenore flattened her free hand into a paddle and CRAAACKED Feral’s taut tummy once, twice, three times. This she followed with a splay-fingered claw grip on those exposed abs, the Raven making sure to gouge the point of her index finger deep into Feral’s navel.
“Submit.” she demanded. “Don’t make me pile on.”
Savage grimaced and looked away, not wanting to see her soulmate get tortured, a foregone conclusion at this point, although she put up a decent fight for her first time wrestling in oil. The statuesque blonde knew her partner was supremely stubborn and would not give it up easily. Indeed, as she looked away, Feral growled out a "F*CK YOU!!" in between the pained guttural noises she was making at having her taut tummy mauled. With one final burst of energy, she managed to twist free, but it was clear she did not have a game plan further than escape, and it was plain that she was all but spent.
Lenore got to her knees and took a moment to slick some hair back behind her ears. That done, she crawled across the Pit to Feral and seized an ankle in both hands. The exhausted Wild One tried to wrest loose, but Lemarchand quickly crossed her feet in a compressed ‘X’ and stuffed the smaller woman’s heels against her tush. The crowd buzzed in anticipation and indeed Lenore didn’t make them wait long before she slid forward to secure a seat on her opponent’s knotted stems. “Give me your hands.”
Feral’s answer came as a middle finger angled over one shoulder.
“I said give me your hands!” The Raven reached out to either side, then brought her hands down and in to SPANK off her rival’s ribs! Feral groaned, but tucked her hands beneath her chest which would’ve been a sound strategy if it didn’t allow Lemarchand to just tee off on her tawny flanks. Half a dozen more shots brought Feral’s hands back into play and Lenore took command of each neat as you please. Quick to put a curve in the Wild One’s spine with that nasty Surfboard, the leggy brunette looked to Savage and said, “Will she listen to you? Tell her to give it up.”
Savage crossed her arms "Pride's always been her Achilles heel, Miss Lemarchand. All me telling her to give it up would accomplish is a week of me sleeping on the couch for the betrayal. Much as I hate it, I think you know the way this has to end. Just...please don't do more to her than you need to, okay?"
“Is that true?” Lenore cranked on her Wristlocks, further exacerbating the curve in her prey’s back. “You’d really make her sleep on the couch when she’s just trying to keep you from getting hurt? Stubborn with a high pain tolerance is a DANGEROUS combination, girl. So submit before you have to find out just HOW dangerous.” Lemarchand bounced up ‘n down on Feral’s trapped legs and leaaaaaaaaaaned back until the tips of her oil-slicked hair was brushing the floor of the Pit.
Feral roared in a primal mixture of pain, anger, and defiance. "She knows she's done, just as well as you and I do, ma'am...But she won't give up." Savage spoke for her through gritted teeth. "She reckons surrender carries greater shame than being knocked out."
The Raven shook her head. “Foolish. Why get carried out on your shield when you can carry it yourself? But if it’s a knock out you want…” Lenore released the Wristlocks, knotted her hands into a single fist and THWHUMPED it down into the hollow of Feral’s defenseless back! The Wild One jolted like she’d been touched with a live wire, but didn’t roll off her stomach until Lemarchand sidled around and turned her with a Half Nelson. Positioned beside her opponent’s head, Lenore swung one long leg over and settled her glutes down atop Feral’s nose.
“Oil Baroness might not be an officially recognized title,” she said of the legend stretched across the seat of her shiny black briefs, “but it’s not something to take lightly either.” Lemarchand shifted just enough to brace the soles of her feet against the sides of Feral’s head, thus ensuring the lightweight lovely couldn’t turn away from the gluteal dungeon. “Remember that the next time you think about proving a point at my expense.”
Feral groaned and slapped at the encroaching buns before digging in with what little remained of her energy.
Lenore grimaced, fashioned her own hands into claws and sank them deep into Feral’s tummy. “Lucky you brought a character witness to ringside.” the Courtier noted. “Usually I’d be exploring your top or your trunks by now.”
Savage growled at the threat as Feral impotently smacks Lenore's crushing backside. "That'd be a mistake, Miss Lemachand, one that I couldn't ignore." She tried to keep her cool at the edge of the Pit, but her posture had gotten more aggressive as she waits for her lover to stop thrashing about, signaling the end of this one-sided match-up.
Lenore glanced over one shoulder, eyes narrowed on Savage. “You fighting her battles isn’t going to a damned thing for this burgeoning inferiority complex she’s got going. If watching this makes you uncomfortable,” she paused for a moment to buff Feral’s mouth and nose with a paint-shaker swish of her hips, “Either stay in the back or teach her to fight smarter.”
The blonde held her tongue, so Lemarchand leaned forward, hooked Savage under the knees and neatly tucked them under her knees in a Reverse Matchbook. The increased pressure on her diaphragm forced what little remained of Feral’s oxygen from her lungs to the curve of Lenore’s glutes with a breathy little wheeze. Those scrabbling hands slowed almost at once and after less than ten seconds Feral’s knuckles were limp against the blue floor of the Pit. Lenore shifted her attention to Merle the referee. “She’s out. Count her down.”
There was no question of Feral’s shoulders being down, so the zebra raised a hand and brought it down against the ridge of the Pit. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE!” He turned and showed a signal to the Timekeeper, who sounded the bell promptly.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Announcer called as Lenore got to her feet, “Your winner via pin-fall… LENORE LEMARCHAND!”
At the sound of the bell, Savage vaulted into the pit, nearly bowling Merle over to tend to Feral as Lenore got to her feet and smoothed out her hair and preened for the crowd. The Blonde Bomber cradled Feral in her arms, worriedly waiting for her to regain consciousness, which she shortly did with a series of wheezing coughs, leading Savage to hug her tight "Thank god..." she muttered before getting to her feet and slinging her girlfriend over her shoulder. She grasped Lenore by the arm to get her attention, prompting the Raven' eyes to narrow, expecting some sort of attack. She was mildly surprised to see the bigger girl stick her hand out to her in a show of respect and sportsmanship. "Since Feral can't," she explained, "Thank you for the match, Miss Lemarchand. You sure as hell lived up to your reputation."
Sportsmanship wasn’t something Lenore experienced in the oil and she was hesitant to reciprocate a gesture from a woman called ‘Savage’ but the Raven considered herself an excellent judge of character and after a moment she shook the blonde’s hand. “You’re welcome. But it doesn’t address the problem. You’re too good to be relegated to protecting that one from fights she never should have taken. This ended… as well as could be expected I suppose, but if she’d been in here against Gabby Mendoza? Or Amara Singh? Hell, Sue Burlingame. It could’ve been a LOT uglier, even if you were close by. Those women wouldn’t give a damn that she was out of her depth. They’d just punish her, submit her and probably humiliate her in the aftermath.” Lemarchand withdrew her hand so she could point a finger at Feral. “Make her understand. She may not be a weak link now, but perception is reality and if that doesn’t change she could bring BOTH of you down. Understand?”
Savage frowned but bit her tongue, instead saying "Thank you for the advice, I'll take it to heart." Lenore grunted and nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to leave before Savage's voice halts her again "For the record...I don't fight her battles, and she doesn't fight mine. But our hearts beat as one, Miss Lemarchand, and we look out for each other. That is our biggest strength; Our solidarity. Together, there's nothing we can't accomplish. I truly believe that, and so does she."
“Then get her on the same page.” Lenore replied. “Because from what I’ve seen the looking out for each other is all on you. There are worse things out there than the Halfmoons. And if you’re going to take them on….” Lemarchand started to say something, ultimately decided against it. “Best of luck to you. Both of you.” She turned away and climbed over the wall of the Pit, the victorious battler raising the Raven sigil high overhead as she strode down the aisle amidst an enthusiastic round of applause.
*******
Although their rivalry in FAWN faded through recent years, with Bareback Beth Jenkins not having been seen on FAWN television since being eliminated from the Queens of the Ring tourney as part of the Rough Riders early in the year, it seemed nothing could fire up a hot bowl of rancor like a splash in FAWN’s Oil Pit.
BETH JENKINS:
NYSSA BLOODWIND:
With Nyssa Bloodwind having shown a real aptitude for the oil in an impressive dismantling of Domi Daly, FAWN suits were anxious to get her back in action for the next ‘Pit Stop’ card and who better as her foe than her fellow Arizonan and opposite number in both personality and appearance?
What the duo had in common was a deep hatred of losing to the other and thus far it’s been shown true in slick, slippery fashion with tonight’s action. Beth edged into control as ten minutes ticked by, Jenkins leaning a knee deep between the shoulderblades of the seated Bloodwind. The oil-glazed Native American flashed her pearlies in a grimace, Beth cupping her laced fingers under Nyssa’s chin and reefing back, arching the back and neck of her tawny rival.
“It’s so good to be back,” Bareback grunted. “There’s nothing like beating down a Bloodwind.”
Beth exchanged possession of Nyssa’s chin for a grip on either of the Navajo’s wrists. She pulled Bloodwind’s arms behind her, using them like handlebars.
“Time to submit, bytch. Just like the good ole days.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Jenkins.” Nyssa grunted even as she shook her head ‘no’ for the official. “But we both know that the only quitter in this Pit is youNNNNGGGHH!”
Not about to take any sass from her arch nemesis, Beth got to her feet without relinquishing her Wristlocks meaning there was no way for Bloodwind to defend herself when the redhead came back down and THWHUMPED her right knee between the Arizonan’s shoulders. “Did YOU just call ME a quitter?” Beth sneered, her voice heavy with incredulity. “Just for that I’m not just gonna beat you. I’ll hogtie you like the pig you are.”
Nyssa continued to twist her wrists even though it did nothing for the growing ache in her shoulders. “Kuuuhhhh… keep running that mouth, honey.” she grunted. “It’ll make it all the more satisfying when I brand your punk ass with that tacky tattoo guHUUUURGGGGHHHHH!”
Bloodwind’s predicament went from painful to troublesome when the Babe from Boot Hill transitioned from a Surfboard to a Straightjacket and from troublesome to traumatizing when she rolled Nyssa onto her belly and climbed aboard her lower back for an agonizing variation on the Camel Clutch! “That ain’t never gonna happen, buttercup.” Jenkins cooed into her prey’s ear. “But I’d be happy to smear your face all over the mat, if you’d like.” Nyssa most certainly did not like, which was why the redhead took such great joy in THWHUMPING Bloodwind’s face and chest against the slippery blue plastic before CRAAAAAAANKING back on the Camel Clutch.
Putting her rodeo skills to what she considered very good use, Bareback Beth rode Bloodwind ragged, just THUMPING the Navajo into the Pit floor time after time, Bloodwind's flawless features leading the way with her arms occupied in the straightjacket grip. Satisfied when the FAWNatics counted out the final of ten faceplants, Beth releases Nyssa's wrists and claimed a standard Camel, bending the glistening Bloodwind in a backbreaking arc, the golden brown skin scantily covered by the Native American's faux deerskin bikini.
A mewling Nyssa was forced to look into the blazing lights above the Pit, the lamps making the oil warm and, if anything, more slippery. Nyssa tried to use the greased skin-to-skin contact as a way of escape but the ruby-red bikini-ed Jenkins knew how to keep her fillies in check and kept stretching out Bloodwind's vertebrae. Jenkins kept things simple in her demands. "TAP!" she shouted in Nyssa's ear. "Or you're going to be in traction." Beth unhooked the digits making her cup and sent the index fingers of each hand fish hooking into the corner of Nyssa's mouth, creating a gruesome smile on the Navajo warrior.
The Bitchy Bridle earned groans of sympathy from the capacity crowd as well as official Craig Long, who once again asked Bloodwind for her surrender. Nyssa couldn’t well answer with a mouthful of talons so she shook her head ‘no’, much to the redhead’s disgust. “Don’t think I won’t ruin this pretty little smile of yours.” she taunted. “Wrecking your overrated ass is a damned fine way to let Mendoza and Lemarchand know I’m gonna be tagging them with my brand sooner than OOOOWWWW SHYT!”
Nyssa finally got at an angle where she could chomp down on Jenkins’s fingers and she wasted no time in doing exactly that. Far less interested in her rival’s dentistry now that the Arizonan was fighting back, Beth yanked her hands away, stood up and immediately dropped into a squat to THWHUMP her butt against the small of Bloodwind’s back. “Still biting, huh?” she slapped the back of Nyssa’s head a few times. “Guess you’re not as tame as I thought. We’ll have to work on that.” With that, she got to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “On your knees, shytbird.” Jenkins demanded. “Don’t waste my time.”
Nyssa moaned, braced her hands against the mat and slowly forced her way to all fours. Above, Beth taunted the audience with a knowing wink, then leapt up and raised her legs to waist level to ensure an atomic butt-- “UUUUUNNNNNGGGHHH!” Bloodwind rolled onto her back and pulled both knees across her chest, thus ensuring that Jenkins endured a most unpleasant landing. It wasn’t all sweetness and light for Nyssa either as Beth’s weight compressed her legs against her sternum, but she was finally free to tend to her aches and pains once the redhead tumbled away and the Nubile Navajo counted that as a victory.
Hand plastered to the base of her backbone, Nyssa still managed to prop herself in a seated position, watching a balled Beth bury her hands into her bruised kitty. Jenkins's baby blues welling, Bareback let fly with a string of expletives as she slowly forced her way up to vertical. Features twisted in pain, Bareback looked as though she's been on a horse for a couple days straight, such was her wide stance. On her knees, Nyssa watched the bowed legs with some satisfaction. She motioned Beth to come get her and Jenkins gritted her teeth as she waddled toward Bloodwind.
When Beth was within a couple feet, the Navajo surged forward, swinging an arm between Beth's pale stems. She momentarily collected Jenkins in a kneeling Fireman's Carry on the way to flipping her foe to the Pit floor. Turning, she scrambled toward the spilled Beth, diving on top of her in a full body to body pin, north-south style. Great minds thinking alike, each wrapped a lower-leg Scissors around the head of their foe and tried to make their calves as useful as their thighs in wearing the other down.
The strained tableau of copper atop alabaster earned the usual show of tawdry support from the more prurient FAWNatics, yet there was nothing sexy about the pressure each woman poured onto the pate of her rival. Nyssa had the better position at first glance, she was stretched out atop Beth after all. But what she gained in leverage she lost in vision, as Jenkins’s Scissors meant the former LW champ’s forehead was pressed firm against the floor of the Pit. As for Beth, she didn’t much care for looking up at the lights with her noggin flanked by Bloodwind’s thighs, yet the redhead made the most of her situation by CRAAAACKING her hands against Nyssa’s gleaming glutes after only a few seconds of stalemate.
“Get your scrawny ass legs away from my head, Bloodwind.” she grunted. Nyssa grumbled something that had to be a denial, considering it was followed by a prolonged squeeze and a sharp rake of well-manicured nails down her flanks. “Fine, if that’s how you want it.” Jenkins took hold of Nyssa’s waistband and YANKED like she meant to make it disappear! Bloodwind wailed in pain and outrage but didn’t have the positioning to answer with a retaliatory wedgie. Instead she wormed her arms around the redhead’s thighs and tried to tumble ‘em both onto their sides.
Still in dueling Scissors, Beth on her left shoulder and hip and Nyssa on her right, the women poured every ounce of strength into their head-bracketing stems and it's the cowgirl who blinked first. The redhead's concentration broken from causing Nyssa pain to prying at Bloodwind's greasy golden-brown gams, trying desperately to free herself. Having apparently won the Scissors Face-off, the Navajo warrior shook free of what's left of the Scissors from Jenkins. She rotated her frame well outside the ability of Beth's legs to reach her while maintaining the crushing power of her own pressing lower limbs.
"Care to reevaluate?" Nyssa asked with syrupy sweetness. Bareback Beth raked both sets of nails down the glistening legs of her foe, unlocking Bloodwind's scissors. The freed, freckled fighter shook out some cobwebs and slowly struggled toward her feet on the slippery surface. Bloodwind was already there and waiting, landing a set of Tomahawk Chops into either nape of Beth's ivory neck. One set drew a pained grimace as Beth's legs gave a shudder, a second set drove Jenkins to her knees. Nyssa then grabbed a handful of Bareback's strawberry blonde mop to hold her in place and jolted her jaw with a raised knee.
Beth’s head whipped away from the Kneelift, but the Babe from Boot Hill SMECKED Nyssa’s tummy with a few woozy slaps, a sure sign to Nyssa that she still had work to do. Jostling the redhead’s noggin from side to side, Bloodwind set her feet and pak-pak-PAAAKED half a dozen more Kneelifts between the opposing Arizonan’s eyes before quickly transitioning into a Standing Headscissors. “I think it’s pretty obvious my legs are stronger.” Nyssa said with a teasing smirk. “But there’s no reason we can’t show yours off a little while longer.”
“Eeeerrrggghhh… keep talking, Bloodynose.” Beth huffed. “You’re gonna wish you’d stayed quiet once HEY! STOP THAT! NO, DOOOOOOON’T!”
But Bloodwind, who’d already stuffed Jenkins’s left ankle into the pit of her right knee, paid these histrionics no mind. Instead she grabbed her nemesis’s right foot and pulled up to trap those stems in a quick yet effective Deathlock. Hooks properly set, she dipped her knees and sloooooooooooowly muscled Beth up until she could strengthen her control with a Half Waistlock. “How you doing down there, baby?” Nyssa chided as she continued to tug and crank on those knotted legs. “Ready to admit you’re done?”
“GO TO HELL!” Jenkins shouted. “I’M GONNA--” Bloodwind hopped up, kicked her legs out straight and landed on her butt to THWHONK the crown of Beth’s skull into the Pit floor with one of, if not thee best, Piledrivers in FAWN. Jenkins actually bounced back on her heels, wavered there for a moment, then timbered into the shallow, oily sea with a thoroughly out of it SPU-LAT!
Even with the Pit's padding, the impact of the perfect Piledriver knocked Bareback Beth's consciousness clean out of Dodge. Left in a snoozing spread eagle, Jenkins' body spasmed involuntarily a few times before falling still. In a state of silence were the Pitside FAWNatics, all of ’em shocked at Nyssa's ability to somehow keep her feet planted on the slippery surface while collecting and planting the glistening ivory-skinned cowgirl in Boot Hill.
Seated next to the splayed Bareback, Nyssa slid her ass across the oily floor then the greased alabaster body of the demolished Jenkins. The rare Pit knockout had the crowd confused but Bloodwind seemed to have expected nothing less, taking a domineering seat on Beth's chest, her calves bracketing Bareback on either side. The Navajo snatched a handful of strawberry blonde locks and lifted the noggin of the blasted cowgirl. "Have you learned that Natives do it better?" Bloodwind nodded Beth's creased cranium for her. "Now go back to Tombstone and never come back or I might get personal next time. Understand?" Nyssa again nodded for the freckled, fallen fighter then tossed Jenkins' braincase away.
Bloodwind pushed to her feet, planting a foot on the battered bosom of the cratered cowgirl. She turned to a lens. "There is no royalty in this Pit. Only survivors. And I'll outlast them all."
******
GINNIFER CHADWICK:
SUSANNAH BURLINGAME:
Having noted the success, not to mention general delight, of her partner at dominating the opposition in FAWN’s newest medium, ‘Gorgeous’ Ginnifer Chadwick decided to try her hand in the Oil Pit at a House Show in Sarasota earlier in the month. Her first outings proved unqualified successes, the sturdy blonde battler defeating Frankie Sellers and then Marisa Fuentes with her Gorgeous Hammerlock, much to the displeasure of those in attendance. Of course the Gorgeous One wasn’t satisfied with such low hanging fruit for very long. With the aforementioned victories under the slim pink belt of her fightin’ black two-piece, Chadwick sauntered down to the Pit at a Friday night show in Tallahassee and demanded that ‘any tramp who thinks she can hang with me get down here right now so I can show her how very, very wrong she is.’
Open challenges in FAWN tended to be high risk, high reward affairs and this proved no different as none other than former World Champion and current Ace of the Black Court Sue Burlingame strolled down to the Pit and stepped inside with nothing more than a smirk and a beckoning finger for the suddenly silent blonde.
The next fifteen minutes or so proved remarkably back and forth, with the younger wrestler holding her own against the Rainmaker’s offensive efforts and even countering with her own on a few occasions. But Burlingame wasn’t a two (almost three) time World Champion for no reason and eventually she caught Chadwick where we currently find her -- a slumped seat with Burlingame’s right leg flung over that shoulder, the Courtier’s heel snug against Ginnifer’s inner thigh to keep that leg from causing too much trouble. As for her arms, they’re stretched out in a wide ‘Y’ shape with the left bent awkwardly across the gleaming plank of her opponent’s thigh. Above the seated battler, Burlingame smiled and waggled her hips just enough to grind ‘em against the back of Ginnifer’s noggin. “You’ve been doing good so far, Ginny.” she teased. “I hope you don’t intend to start boring me now.”
If Chadwick was waiting for a rhythmic clap to accumulate among the FAWNatics and provide the impetus to escape, the crowd was growing increasingly tardy and Gabby's G-Thang partner's fluttering biceps failed to force her free. Leaning her head forward, The Gorgeous One, grimacing in pain and frustration used a little ingenuity, slamming her noggin backwards, the aft portion of her braincase ramming into Susan's crotch.
It's not power-packed but considering the placement, it's enough to convince the oily Ace to release and dismount, waddling away a few steps, trying to swallow any sign of pain. She regained her focus and stepped to the still seated Ginnifer, sending a soccer kick toward Chadwick's lower spine. The greased and glistening blonde leaned to the side and captured Burlingame's calf between her ribs and right bicep. Yanking the possessed limb forward, Ginnifer spilled the future FAWN Hall of Famer to her backside with ease, the slippery blue plastic aiding the youngster in her gambit. She turned and Scissors up on Sue's lower limb, using an Ankle Lock at the near end to try and unscrew Burlingame's foot from the remainder of her leg.
“How’s that, Bytch-Face?” Chadwick sneered as she put some hard miles on the veteran’s ankle. “Still feeling bored?”
Sue swatted the floor with both hands, shook her head ‘no’, either for Ginnifer, the ref or both. “Not bored, disappointed.” Burlingame grunted. “Figured your mom would’ve taught you to hook a better Ankle Lock than OOOOWWWW DAMMIT BYTCH!”
Ginnifer halved her grip on Sue’s foot to clamp down on her toes, which she promptly tried to twist off! “Yeah, you’re not so tough!” the blonde taunted. “No wonder you had to suck up to West to keep yourself relevant! Without them to back you up you’d have been jerking curtains years agNGH!”
Sue sat up with one hand braced flat for leverage. The other she curled into a fist and brought down on the meat of Chadwick’s thigh once, twice, three times.”
Ginnifer grimaced, but didn’t abandon the Ankle Lock, in fact she poured on that much more pressure. “That it, slut? I thought you would at least make me work before I sat on your fa--”
Sue reached out with viper quickness to snatch a huge handful of the blonde’s oil-soaked locks. Pulling Chadwick’s head forward and down, Burlingame flattened her other hand into a paddle and slapped the side of the newcomer’s noggin. “Let go of my foot, cutie.” the Ace demanded. “Unless you want me to slap the taste out of that filthy little mouth.”
Apparently convinced Burlingame just might, Ginnifer acceded to Susan's order. But as quickly, she barrel rolled atop Susan's tawny gams and unloaded her folded alabaster versions into a horizontal stomp to Susan's gurls. The piston-like legs flattened Sue to the Pit floor at rocket speed and, with her body on top, Ginnifer found the oil to her liking, sliding up Burlingame's frame. Her ass settled atop Sue's bosom and her legs started to encircle the pained visage of the Ace. Ivory thighs framed Sue's cheeks and jaws, Ginnifer locking her ankles over Susan's head and bringing the crushing power of her Headscissors to bear. She only increased the strength by wiggling further up Burlingame until Chadwick's crotch was tight to Susan's chin, the Gorgeous One looking to gain a pressure-packed knockout with her thighs instead of a surrender.
"Say nighty-night you ancient relic."
Susan didn’t like the blonde’s tone in the slightest, alas there wasn’t much she could do about it in her current position. Looking to change that as swiftly as possible, she reached around with both hands and gave the newcomer a taste of championship claws in the form of dual raaaaaaaakes along glute and thigh. Chadwick sneered, grabbed one wrist and THUMPED that hand against the floor of the Pit. “Nice try, Bytch Face. Do it again and I’ll give you a face full of NGH! NGH! NGH!”
Susan brought her right knee up fast, driving the point of it into Chadwick’s lower back until the blonde tossed the wrist away to hook the taller woman’s encroaching leg behind the knee. “Still not taking me seriously, huh?” she taunted. “You’re gonna regret that!” The Gorgeous One plunged her free hand into Sue’s hair and jerked forward, stuffing the Courtier’s incredulous features against her undercarriage! “Yeah, how’s that feel? Huh? How’s that feel you old bytch?”
Now that her legs and trunks were doing the heavy lifting, Ginnifer relinquished her hair hold just to indulge in an aggressive radio-dial twist on Burlingame’s left nipple. “Give it up, hag! You’re finished!” Burlingame squealed a nonsense reply, her left heel beating against the Pit for several seconds before she brought it up in an attempt to hook the blonde’s arm.
Dishing out 'the dial' just cause she could, the second-gen superstar got a little too much into the gameplay and not the put-away. Burlingame's rising lower limb slipped under the blonde's armpit and wrapped around her right shoulder. Straightening her leg before Ginnifer could clamp it down in a Matchbook, Chadwick's peeled off the greasy face of the Ace. Susan coughed to life, dark eyes a bit blurry from lack of oxygen under the Gorgeous One's seat. A bit flustered by the turn of events, Gin Blossom back somersaulted to her haunches, poised for an attack from Burlingame that's not quite ready, Sue still sputtering and getting off her back. Ginnifer knee-walked across the slick plastic and reached Burlingame with the tawny-skinned brunette reaching the same position. The women threw their bikini-clad bodies against each other, seeking leverage to flatten the other. Chadwick doesn't fold, literally or figuratively, as chins dug into opposing napes and biceps flex in oily relief.
"It's my time," Ginnifer insisted. "G-Thang is the thang." yt
Susan didn’t reply with words, rather she hand-fights with the blonde until she’s able to catch one wrist in a tight clamp. Just like that she wrenched it behind Chadwick’s back and torqued up in a Hammerlock. Scowling, Ginnifer grabbed a handful of hair and gave it a hard yank. “My wrist is stronger than your roots, Bytch Face.” she explained. “Now let go before I feed you these tacky extensOOOOWWWWW FAHK!”
Burlingame treated the Gorgeous One to a lesson in classic AHW tactics when she wedged the point of her chin in just below Ginnifer’s jawline and dug around like she was trying to drill straight through! Chadwick forgot all about Sue’s hair in her effort to halt the painful tactic. Alas, Burlingame did not forget about the blonde’s other wrist and she caught it as deftly as she had the first. A second Hammerlock followed, both of Ginnifer’s arms pinned snug behind her back, those lean limbs trapped in place thanks to the S-grip Sue used to complete her unorthodox Bear Hug. “Gotta say, you need no instruction on how to be a brat.” the Rainmaker said after the first protracted squeeze. “But being a bytch? Sweetie, there’s a whole LOT I can teach you.” With that she went back to the Chin Gouge, Sue going at the softest parts of Ginnifer’s neck.
With her arms deftly removed from the battle and the pain in her trapezius growing by the second, Ginnifer progressively leaning in the direction of Sue's subtle attack, Chadwick tried to wrest her arms loose. While she did, Burlingame advanced on her knees, thumping her bronzed body into Ginnifer's. One collision wobbled the blonde, the next sent the greased Gorgeous One flopping to her back, thighs folded atop calves, arms still stuck behind her. Susan's frame landed on top, her arms also occupied behind and now under Gabby's partner. But Burlingame had gravity and baby oil on her side, Sue's torso sliding down the backward angle Ginnifer now occupied, The Ace's cleavage slowly sliding toward her chin.
Gin Blossom's face twisted from side to side as the glistening bosom approached. "You better not even think," Chadwick warned. "Because if yoummmppphhh." Ginnifer's wriggling couldn’t prevent Susan's rack from burying the mouth and nose of the Gorgeous One, giving Chadwick even more impetus to try and wriggle free.
“Not just thinking about it sweetheart. I’m doing it!” Sue was all smiles as she scrubbed and buffed her girls across the other wrestler’s struggling features. But effective and photogenic though the position was, Burlingame didn’t much like having her arms out of play, so she worked the JMD mount for a few more seconds before letting loose and pulling her hands out from under the sputtering blonde. Then she reared back into a more traditional mount and CRAAACKED a gaudy bytch slap across Ginnifer’s cheek while she was gasping for air! Sue liked the sound of it so much she slapped Chadwick again, then grabbed her wrists when the Gorgeous One raised a guard.
“C’mon, you’re not just gonna let an old lady slap you out, are ya cutie?” she teased.
“Bytch, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into!” Chadwick threatened. “I’m gonna strip you down when I get outta--” she wrested her hands free and twisted around onto her belly in hopes of sliding free of Burlingame’s mount. This proved a disastrous mistake as the Ace immediately caught her biceps and wrenched ‘em back over the oil-sheened planks of the thighs.
A Camel Clutch would’ve been problematic enough, unfortunately for Ginnifer the former World Champ had something different in mind. Hunching forward, Burlingame curled her right arm under the blonde’s chin and then drew back to craaaaaaaaaaaank Chadwick’s neck. “Ooooohhhh, looks like you’re in real trouble now!” Sue teased as she poured it on with the Root of All Evil. “I wonder how it could possibly get worse?” The answer of course, was jugg-work, Sue treating herself to some white-knuckled vengeance on Ginnifer’s left nipple.
Ginnifer screeched in pain as her legs flailed wildly, toes sliding over top of the oiled plastic as she tried to move within her foe's grasp. Chadwick fought to get her knees under her but Susan's lowered backside spared her no room to do so. Forced to stare at the beaming lights over the Pit as Susan's Root curved her vertebrae at an incredible angle, Ginnifer's air and bloodflow were cut to minuscule levels from the tight, brawny grip around her throat. The Evil of Susan's finisher only multiplied by the slick surface and the delight with which the FAWNatics seemed to revel in Gin Blossom's increasingly close demise. Knowing she's stuck but not wanting to admit, Ginnifer was overcome by the increasing feeling of floating out of her body, the busted blonde forced to surrender before she becomes nothing but a ragdoll in Burlingame's arms.
Susan released the pincer when Chadwick slapped a surrender out on the floor, but she kept the Root otherwise intact to she could treat the crowd to a bicep flex and three sharp, taunting slaps to the underside of the Gorgeous One’s left breast once she was declared the winner. Taking a moment to catch her breath and mop a forearm across her brow once the grip’s been relinquished, Sue moved south down the blonde’s back and teased going for the clasp on her top only to roll her onto her back instead. “There was a lot of tuff talk coming outta here earlier.” Sue patted the blonde’s flushed cheek. “Time you found out what happens when you can’t back it up.”
“Scuuuhhh…. screw you, bytch face.” Chadwick moaned. “You had to win that fight inside my topMMMMMPPPPHHHHH!”
Susan whipped around and slid back to settle down with all her weight on Ginnifer’s upturned nose. Arms trapped overhead, Chadwick could only squirm and twist when Burlingame finally removed her top with a snappy little flourish. Draping this trophy across the back of her neck, the Ace ‘smecked’ both hands down on the blonde’s undefended bounty, then began the slow, thorough process of introducing Ginnifer to the best seat in the house.
Already down to dregs as far as her reserves were concerned, the Gorgeous One succumbed to unconsciousness in less than thirty seconds, not that this stopped Sue from reminding Ginnifer… and any other potential adversaries, that she was as dangerous in the Pit as she was in the squared circle.
********
GABBY MENDOZA:
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
It wasn’t often that a non-title match closed a FAWN show, even on the House Show circuit. But that’s just what the good folks in Gainesville got on the fed’s last stop and not a one of them seemed to mind the lack of a golden prize at the top of the card. Which wasn’t to say the contest was without stakes, far from it. Indeed there was a palpable big fight feel in the air the very moment Lenore Lemarchand stepped into the Oil Pit to defend her official unofficial title of Oil Baroness against the undefeated Baby Faced Killer, Gabby Mendoza.
The pace proved frenetic from the outset, with both brunettes practically hurling themselves at their adversary to gain an advantage only to have their fortunes reversed and reversed again, often within the span of seconds. So it went for more than twenty minutes, the Raven and her gum chompin’ challenger torturing one another with a nearly impossible to call blend of saloon brawling, technical submission brilliance and penthouse catfight savagery. Another five minutes passed before the pace finally began to slow, with Lemarchand gluing Mendoza to the floor of the Pit courtesy of a Headlock made all the more uncomfortable thanks to Lenore scissoring the Texan’s left arm between her thighs.
Yet Mendoza proved a tenacious foe even down a hand and with her chin wedged into the crook of Lemarchand’s armpit. She’d plunged her left hand into Lenore’s hair and pulled like she meant to take the Courtier’s scalp instead of her briefs. The Fair & Radiant Maiden endured this punishment for several seconds before she freed up one hand and repaid the Lethal Latina with a hair pull of her own.
“Let go of my hair, Mendoza.” Lemarchand growled. “Or this’ll only get worse.”
Gabby answered with her hardest yank yet. “F*ckin’ right it will, bytch face.” she huffed. “I’ll make you scream when I get out of thiSSMMMMMRRRRPPPPHHHHH!”
Lenore stopped pulling and started smothering, pressing that hand over Gabby’s mouth and nose! Pinching the former Lightweight Champ’s nostrils between thumb and forefinger, Lemarchand snarled, “You’re not going anywhere, honey. Not unless you’re ready to give up those pretty little briefs. Only fair after all, since mine are on the line already.”
The Babyfaced Killer shook her head, trying to uncover her breathing passages but couldn’t quite get free sufficiently to find a big gulp of oxygen. She let her fingers slip free of Lenore's brunette locks. Not waiting to see if the Raven would return the favor, La Chica Pertoleo instead snatched Lemarchand's wrist and ripped off the covering palm and pinching fingers. Mendoza spat out her pink wad in order to get bigger and better lungfuls. She slipped across the blue plastic covering of the Pit, trying to get her legs under but it's a difficult task with one arm captured and the other occupied.
Meanwhile, Lenore still tugged viciously at the ebony ponytail of the Texan, using it as a handle. "It must be a terrible thing, Lenore huffed, "to believe you have a chance when you don't. You beat some stiffs. But this is my Pit, little girl."
Gabby growled in effort and managed to get her legs folded beneath her. On her knees with Lenore on her pert, ivory backside still scissoring her left arm, Mendoza tried to unlock the snaking stems in the most direct way possible, striking at the 'keyhole'. The would-be usurper to the Baroness leaned forward, stuffing a palm heel strike toward the center of Lenore's title-affirming trunks.
Lemarchand grunted in distressed irritation as the challenger caught her once, twice, three times. The last shot freed Mendoza’s trapped arm but she still remained mired in the Headlock, which only got tighter when Lenore locked her hands in a white knuckled S-clasp. Scrambling to her knees with Gabby’s mug smooshed up against the curves of her modest chest, the Courtier knee-walked over to the edge of the Pit and BWONKED Mendoza’s forehead against the wall. It didn’t have nearly the impact of canvas or even a turnbuckle, but it was still rather disorienting and extremely disrespectful as far as Gabby was concerned.
The proximity of that smothering bounty would’ve ensured a particularly toothsome escape on any other night, alas the oil and Lenore’s hatefully snug grip ensured the Terrible Texan couldn’t get her chew on. Anger growing in time with the blood pounding at her temples, Mendoza returned to the hair hold and yaaaaaaaaanked hard enough to make Lenore hiss in anguish. A good start, but Gabby demanded full freedom, so she raked Lemarchand’s belly, then slid that hand south in search of more vulnerable--
“Don’t think so, bytch.” Lenore halved the Headlock to seize the other brunette’s wrist. “Keep your gummy little fingers away from OOOOOOOOWWWWW SHYT!”
Mendoza twisted into the slippery coil and bit down hard, the thin lycra of Lemarchand’s top offering nothing in the way of protection.
Springing free of the Headlock by way of her chomping choppers, Gabby showed she could chew more than gum, gnawing on Lenore's side-boob. With freedom garnered, Mendoza was more than willing to bring an end to her snack. She quickly used the oil to fully extricate herself from the previously octopus-like Courtier, slipping her left arm from between the loosened stems of her oily rival.
On more or less even terms for the first time in minutes, Gabby didn’t consider pulling back for an instant. Instead she dove on top of the butt-scooting Raven. Going full body-on-body, the glistening Latina slithered her legs around the dangerous lower limbs of the Baroness, controlling them as best she could in a Grapevine. Gabby used the slippery Pit floor to sneak her arms underneath Lenore's spine and cinch the limbs into a tight Bear Hug, hoping to squeeze the air from the Unfair and Shadowy Bitch. Gabby drew a gasp and a forced exhale then a groan as she bore down. Unfortunately, the Courtier didn’t waste her time in prying at the embrace. Instead she wrapped her arms behind the head of La Chica Petroleo and STUFFED the greasy features of Mendoza's baby face into her glazed gurls.
“Bite me again, see what happens.” Lenore threatened in the midst of trying to crimp Gabby’s nose against her sternum. “Maybe you’ll have the chance to tap out before you pass UUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH!”
Mendoza doubled down on the Bear Hug and Grapevine simultaneously to earn a low, reverberating groan of pain from her opponent. Much as Gabby would’ve loved crushing Lemarchand body to body, she knew she had get free of the Front Sleeper sooner than later, so she abandoned the Hug in favor of burying both hands in the taller brunette’s hair. A few quick thumps against the Pit floor didn’t do the trick so she palmed the Raven’s noggin on either side and clawing at her eyes! Lenore groaned, turned her head to one side and traded her coil for an especially vicious tug on Gabby’s hair. The Texan endured this without complaint, in fact she managed a smile once she turned her head away from Lemarchand’s smother.
“Let go of my hair, bytch face.” she huffed after a few deep breaths. “Or I’ll treat these tiny tits like a wad of Big League Chew!”
“Keep away from my top, Mendoza.” the Raven warned. “Otherwise I’ll make you paAAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!”
Gabby didn’t take too kindly to threats, so she bit down on Lenore’s bust just as she’d promised. “Give up!” she demanded once she’d taken a break several seconds later. “Before I have to chew you up and spit you OOOOOOOFFFFFFFHHHHHHH!”
Lenore wrenched her legs free of the Grapevine and immediately set about rearranging the Latina’s midsection with a gut-churning Bodyscissors. Rocked back onto her haunches by the power of the Courtier’s Scissors, Mendoza only clawed at those encroaching thighs for a heartbeat or two before she retaliated with her own Palm Smother and a pincer grip on the nipple she’d targeted prior.
"You think I'm playing," Gabby grunted. "But I'm going to pass you out and mess you up. I could OWN any lightweight , but I want more. Today the Pit. Tomorrow the World." Mendoza dialed up the pressure literally, forcing Lenore to shriek into the Latina's smothering, greasy palm. Unsatisfied with the nip grip over Lemarchand's lycra, she slipped her hand underneath and went right to the source. Meanwhile, Lenore flexed her thighs, drawing a moan from Mendoza, the Raven crushing both sets of ribs of La Chica Petroleo.
Deciding the smother was working too slowly, Gabby pulled her palm and curled it into a fist, sending it careening toward Lenore's jawline. The Baroness got a forearm up to block the blow and delivered another pulse through her legs, forcing a grimacing Gabby to pull her hands into defense, trying to work some slack between her oily sides and the bracketing ivory stems. Even with grease between their skin, Lenore's Scissors ground away, convincing Mendoza to interlock her fingers in a Double Axhandle and senT them down in a blow toward her foe's bloodpumper, hopping to defibrillate the Raven then bury her under an avalanche of smooth, slippery golden-brown tummy.
Hands otherwise occupied by the Baby Faced Killer’s claws, Lenore couldn’t muster an adequate defense before the Axehandle THUMPED against her sternum. Already short of breath, the Fair & Radiant Maiden let out a woozy ‘OOOOFFFFH!’ when Mendoza connected once, then twice.
Sighing with relief when those damned Scissors finally loosened, Gabby braced her hands against the sides of Lemarchand’s knees and pushed down to slide her way to freedom. Quickly settling into a heavy straddle of the Baroness’s waist, Mendoza collected her wrists, then thumped them against the Pit floor before leaning forward to reapply the Double Leg Grapevine AND a face smudging Tummy Smother! “Ohhh, that feels nice!” Gabby giggled as Lenore wailed against her oil-slicked midsection. “So do you want to give it up now or do I have to crush your nose first?”
Lemarchand twisted like a live wire but the Lethal Latina held her fast, Gabby proving an expert at distributing her weight to ride out the worst of it. “I told you, this Pit is mine.” the tawny brunette chided after she’d wedged Lenore’s wrists together. “That means you’re mine too!”
With the Raven’s hands sufficiently corralled, Gabby reached down between her own splayed stems to wreak havoc on Lenore’s crotch, Mendoza’s callous claw honing in on the outline of her foe’s womanhood clearly limned against those straining black trunks.
Shuddering under the forceful execution of her two-pronged attack, Lenore was ground beneath the Babyfaced Killer's belly button while being ravaged below by her delving digits. The Terrible Texan, noticing her masticated Hubba Bubba, sugar-free of course, removed her Crotch Claw long enough to snatch the nearby wad and go low again. This time she 'chewed' both the gum and Lenore's kitty simultaneously, working the wad into the Raven's privates, going nuclear on the fading Courtier.
"Gin Blossom had the tougher task last weekend, so-called Baroness," Gabby huffed. "But I'll get Burlingame next. Both of them." Having forced a muffled howl from Lenore into her tummy with another particularly heinous squeeze of her foe's hotbox, Gabby withdrew her hand from beneath the triangle of spandex, gum not emerging with her. Left hand joins right behind Lenore's noggin, forcing the Raven's beak and lips further into glistening, golden abs.
"Tap now. Or don't. Either way I'm making you as scared of the Pit as you made Amara."
In far more trouble tonight than she’d ever experienced against the Empress, Lenore forced herself to ignore the disgusting gummy intrusion in favor of larger concerns. Vision tunneling thanks to the asphyxiating blanket of the challenger’s tummy, Lemarchand set her freed hands to work, just slapping and pounding at Mendoza’s sturdy flanks.
“Not enough!” Gabby chirped. “Just admit it, bytch face! You bit off more than you can chew and I’m the only real Oil Baroness this place will ever neEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!”
Lenore grabbed a double handful of Mendoza’s scant magenta briefs and pulled them up like she meant to saw the smaller brunette in half! Wincing in pain, Gabby freed one hand to reach back and try to prize the Courtier’s talons from her waistband. “Let go.” she grunted. “I mean it, slut. Let go of my bottoms or I’ll AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH DAMMIT!”
Lemarchand paid back an earlier indignity with crippling interest when she pressed her lips to Mendoza’s navel and chomped down as hard as she could! Mendoza pulled away from the bite on instinct but this proved a costly error as not only did it give the Raven a chance to breathe, it allowed her to thread her legs around Gabby’s in a Grapevine administered from below. Breathing deep for what came next, Lenore clamped down on Mendoza’s biceps and hoisted her into the air for a spine-wrenching Reverse Romero Special!
REVERSE ROMERO SPECIAL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzZIlodNTOE
Lemarchand had no idea how long she’d be able to keep the hold applied, so she jostled and jounced Gabby as hard as she could to exacerbate the painful U-curve in the Lethal Latina’s spine. “Who’s scared now, bytch?” Lenore rasped. “Better yet, who’s the Baroness?”
In a brutal combination of both shock and pain, Gabby's eyes dark eyes bulged with both. Hardly believing the force of muscle and will involved in her new position, her legs stretched, her backbone suddenly feeling as though it might be snapped, Lenore's hands dug into her armpits to keep her aloft above while her raised legs keep Mendoza airborne on the lower end. Having gone from stretch run to stretched like taffy, anxiety filled the eyes of the extended Latina. Each limb captured in the ingenious display, Gabby could do little but drip baby oil onto the torturer from below.
"Say it," Lenore demanded succinctly.
Mendoza shook her head, spraying oil with her pony and squeaked out a 'no' from nearly pursed lips. She couldn’t keep this up, Mendoza seemed to be telling herself.
But second after long second the Baroness did.
Gabby tried to swing her arms and reach Lenore's face with her fists, but Lemarchand cleverly moved her grips to Gabby's biceps, cutting her foe's reach and leaving Mendoza far short. Lenore added a violent shake, widening her legs even further and Gabby was soon sobbing.
"How in the hell?" she cried to no one in particular "How are you?"
"I'm more than a talker, little girl." Lenore grunted.
And as the FAWNatics watched in stunned silence, Gabby began pleading for release from the agony, finally screaming the magic words.
"You're the Baroness! I give. I GIVE!"
The bell sounded at once, but Lenore Gabby repeat her admission several more times before she shoved her to one side. Quivering with exertion now that the battle was over, Lemarchand clambered to verticality and planted one heel between Mendoza’s breasts before offering the fans and the Gladiatrix photogs a double bicep flex. She was just about to hoist the Raven sigil when Gabby put a hand against her foot and shoved it away.
“Guuuhhhh…. get offa me, bytch face.”
Eyes flashing dark and mean, the Fair & Radiant Maiden raised that foot again only to bring it THUMPING down in the pit of her foe’s stomach! Mendoza sat up or at least tried to, she’d barely made it halfway when Lenore grabbed her shoulders and forced her flat. Kneeling above the Texan’s head, Lemarchand toddled forward and sat down hard enough to engulf Gabby’s nose between her bunched buttocks. “Yeah, I’m the Baroness.” she repeated as Mendoza squealed into her undercarriage. “And you know what you are? You’re just a wad of gum that needs to get scraped off the floor of my Pit!”
With that she undid the bow at the center of Gabby’s top and set to work on the other brunette’s nubs with a malicious double pincer.
Mendoza wailed even louder, the sound muffled to little more than a pleasant buzz against the Courtier’s nethers. Tweaking and twisting until Gabby’s protests had faded to a soft burble, Emily’s Lady in Waiting abruptly hunched over, hooked her thumbs into the leg holes of Mendoza’s bottoms and slowly peeeeeled them down her ankles. On her feet once she’d fully divested Gabby of her attire, Lenore held the trophy high overhead, the victorious battler making sure to turn to all four sides of the arena to show off the ‘Eat It, Bytch Face!’ emblazoned across the seat.
“I know, I know, I can’t leave you like this, with nothing but the loser tee-shirt to wear to the back.” Lemarchand told the greasy-faced challenger. “Here, I’ve got an accessory I think you’ll like.”
Grimacing, she slid a hand into her trunks and gently removed the gum Mendoza had inflicted upon her earlier. The crowd let loose with an ‘OH NO SHE DIN’T!’ gasp, but of course Lenore did, the vindictive battler doubling over to stick it directly between Gabby’s eyes.
“Chew on that, bytch face.” She showed off the oil-soaked trophy once more, then strutted out of the Pit, leaving Gabby to slumber fitfully while the crowd filed out into the night.
