Post by walkindude on Jan 6, 2019 3:38:30 GMT
Hello Friends,
Ring in 2019 with the best Oil Pit action from the last month of 2018, complete with an intense altercation between Pit newcomers, a high-stakes clash between flyweight stars and Lenore Lemarchand's steepest challenge yet! Can the Baroness stroll into the new year as FAWN's undisputed Queen of the Oil? Or will she tumble to the slippery wayside as a new warrior takes on her mantle? Read on to find out!
~RF
******
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
“Don’t think I didn’t recognize that look on your smug little face.” Elizabeth Cromwell grunted as she settled into a weary seat on the small of her opponent’s back. “You thought this was going to be easy, didn’t you? Thought I was permanently damaged goods after that sweaty idiot robbed me of a well-deserved victory?”
AVERY CHRISTIAN:
Beneath her, Avery Christian managed to get her hands flat against the floor of the Pit following a few seconds of awkward scrabbling. “I didn’t give a shyt if you were damaged goods coming INTO this match.” the curvaceous brunette grunted. “But you’re damned sure going to be on the trash heap when I get finished with youUUNNNNGGGHHH EEERRRRRHHHH BYTCH!”
The Boarding School Princess combined a quick Butt Bounce with a savage double handful of her opponent’s hair, then continued to puuuuuuuuuuull until Christian’s feet beat an erratic, splattery tattoo against the slick blue floor. Delighted by the feel of the strumpet wriggling beneath her, Cromwell halved the hair-pull to patter several slaps against Avery’s cheeks before sliding that hand down for a greedy grip on the brunette’s juggs. “Nepotism might’ve put you in the Pit, Avery Christian.” Lizzie sneered. “Unfortunately it is the cruelty of Elizabeth Cromwell that will drive you from it in a single, sobbing stroke.”
The glistening, freckled Brit dug her digits into the excess bounty the Boss' kid enjoyed. It would not do to be beneath such a bosom, no not at all. But shredding it from above was a sheer delight as was the mewling from Christian. Avery damn well had some obvious tools but a torn ACL put her on the shelf and in the time since she'd been back, it seemed she might have been better off staying there. Giving up her udderly painful grasp, Elizabeth pivoted, spinning to a reverse straddle. She snatched the bad wheel, Avery's left, and wrenched away on the limb, bending and twisting, Cromwell dutifully working the weak spot. Christian bit her lower lip, brown eyes welling. Another violent yank drew a yelp and curse from Boss Junior. It also gave her a shot of adrenaline to try and use the slippery surface to wriggle out from under Elizabeth's mount, kicking her leg as she tried to free herself, accepting the pain the accompanied the attempt.
Lizzie didn’t appreciate the jail-break in the slightest and she expressed her displeasure with Avery’s efforts by threading her fingers between the brunette’s toes for a sharp, mean-spirited twist! “Mummy’s money can’t buy you out of this one, my sniveling little cushion.” Cromwell sniped. “Better to just bawl your surrender now and let me enjoy the fruits of a glorious victorEERRRRGGGGHHH!”
Christian braced on one elbow, twisted ‘round as best she could and hooked a handful of Lizzie’s royal blue bottoms for a malicious wedgie. “You must be outta your effin’ mind if you think I’m gonna submit to you.” Avery huffed. “ Scrawny little pipsqueak like you? I’ll finish you off whenever I feel like OOOOOOOWWWWWWW!”
Cromwell abandoned the toe-twist for another hard hair-pull, then a half Chinlock that had her tugging Avery’s ankle toward the back of her skull in a sort of AHW catfight approved Bow & Arrow. “Watch your mouth, bytch.” Lizzie hissed. “Lest you find out what happens when I decide you aren’t worth my merAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Surprise, surprise, Avery wasn’t interested in mercy, as evidenced by the callous way she slipped out of the Chinlock and CHOMPED down on Cromwell’s encroaching hand!
Reacting as if Baby Boss ripped out a chunk of her hand with the clench of her teeth, Cromwell released her hold above to pull her hand free from Avery's choppers then brought her other hand to it to massage away the pain and bite marks. With Lizzie mightily distracted by the incisors incisions in her mitt, Christian's able to slink out from under the auburn-haired grappler. Having been down for a healthy portion of the Pit battle, Avery breathed a sigh of relief for a moment as she scooted to a seat on the oily surface. She folded her legs and waited for Elizabeth to come calling.
It didn’t take long for the self-proclaimed Best Brit to arrive and Baby Boss let loose, unfolding her stems at the risen Lizzie's knees. The glistening Liverpool native plopped to the Pit floor on said bruised joints, grimacing. Immediately, Avery snatched a wrist of her foe and pulled Lizzie's torso between her now extended gams. Christian clamped a Scissors around Cromwell's ivory-skinned waist, crushing ribs from both sides. A groaning, gasping Elizabeth had her eyes opened to the power Christian could provide from her legs and, as Avery slid Lizzie toward her through the greasy Scissors, she moved Cromwell's increasingly fearful features toward the massive mountains of flesh growing ever closer.
"Mom picked you for a reason, bytch!" Avery growled.
Far too concerned about Christian’s encroaching curves to bother with a verbal retort, Lizzie planted her free hand against the floor, but found no purchase there. Rearing back on her haunches delayed the inevitable for at least a moment, alas Avery still had control over one hand and she repaid the tootsie torture with an equally nasty gnawing on those frantic fingers! “MISERABLE TROLLOP!” the Englishwoman railed. “SPIT ME OUT THIS INSTNNNNGGGGHH!”
Christian sat up halfway, just far enough to CRAAACK a rough slap across the other wrestler’s mouth. Then she turned her Wristlock into a Knuckle-Lock and bent Lizzie’s hand back toward her own forearm in a nasty game of mercy. “Not a chance, baby.” she sneered. “At least not until you’ve motorboated yourself hoarse against my UNGH!”
Cromwell curled her free hand into a fist and pwaaaked it against the brunette’s belly. “If someone is destined for humiliation tonight, it is you, braOOOOFFFFFHHHH!”
Avery redoubled her efforts on the Bodyscissors, then flattened her free hand into a paddle and paintbrushed Lizzie’s cheek once, twice, thrice! “Humiliating is having to start my campaign with a curtain jerker like you!” the black-clad battler sneered. “But once you’re burbling beneath my juggs I’ll turn my attention to someone like Nyssa Bloodwind or even Lenore herEEERRRRRHHHHH-- leggo, bytch.”
Lizzie, who’d filled her remaining hand with a death-grip on Christian’s right breast, did no such thing. “I do believe one of us is in for a lesson in abject suffering.” she said gravely. “I promise it’s not me.”
Though she had a handful of Avery, clenching the breast with all the strength her greasy grip could manage, Lizzie's efforts to break free were absolutely fruitless. And while Bethany's baby girl gritted her teeth through the grasp on her teat, she continued to draw her foe's freckled, frazzled face closer to her cavernous cleavage. To move Cromwell toward her face-enveloped doom, Christian had to allow some oily slack and Elizabeth decided to throw caution to the wind. She couldn't go backward but maybe…
Lizzie pushed forward, sliding through the keyhole of Avery's stems. Not expecting Cromwell to join in her effort to force the Brit toward her, Christian was unprepared for the brat. Lizzie got a faceful for a split-second but then slid over the top of the twin peaks and once her hips cleared the greased inner thighs of her foe, she's birthed out of the Scissors, ending in a scrambling Schoolgirl Press of the Baby Boss. Lizzie's thighs folded atop her calves, the limbs bracketing Avery's disbelieving mug.
"You ever get tired of being a disappointment to Mommy?" Elizabeth snorted.
“You’re the only disappointment around heEEEERRRRRHHHH BYTCH!” Avery’s growl devolved into a wail of pain as Cromwell once again targeted her chest, albeit with both hands this time.
“Oh, I’ve had my share of ups and downs.” the Briton admitted during this terrible tweaking. “But I always bounce back. And I don’t just land on my feet, more often than not I land on a most comfortable seat!” The Boarding School Princess jostled up and down, driving her pert little tush into Avery’s neck to emphasize the point. “Speaking of which, are you ready to tell the world you’re little better than my cushion? Or do I have to maul these fulsome tits of your for a little while longWHOOOAAAAHHH!”
Avery kicked her legs up, hooked her calves under Cromwell’s biceps and pulled back to bring the Bratty Brit to the Pit floor in an improvised Sunset Flip. No pins in the oil of course, not that Christian had anything so technical on her mind. Soon as she’d made her seat the brunette knotted her fists into a Double Axehandle and THWHUMPED it into the pit of Cromwell’s stomach. “Did you really think you were going to win, bytch?” she snapped at the bug-eyed battler. “You’re just here to pad my highlight reel!” Avery followed up with three more spiteful Belly Smashes, then raaaaaaaaked her claws down Lizzie’s chest half a dozen times before settling in for a vindictive, white-knuckle grip on Cromwell’s modest bounty.
Cromwell's deep guttural groans from the impact of the Axhandle turned to shrieks of pain from the scoring of her spandex-covered cups to mewls of protest when Avery squeezed the tender tissue of the so-called Best Brit. The world had been turned upside down in an instant by the Baby Boss. Cromwell at least had her legs in front of most of Christian, keeping her head out of range of any concussive blows, but the way Avery cattily ravaged what she had available brought Lizzie to sobs.
The sneering grin of Avery drove Cromwell to engage. She grasped at Christian's wrists, trying to control the attack. Widening her legs instead of fashioning them into a Scissors, Cromwell swung them together, hoping to provide an unusual Ear-Ringer with her calves. Those legs clunked against Avery's temples more than the curvy brunette's ears, but at least the impact rattled Christian enough for Elizabeth to scramble to her haunches and meet Avery on equal ground. The auburn-haired grappler went face to face, lacing her fingers with Christian's and testing her strength against the pneumatic Baby Boss, each woman leaning her oily spandex and the contents beneath into the other. It's a maneuver that seems ill-conceived and indeed Avery began to bend the Brit back, threatening to fold Lizzie over, thighs atop calves and back atop oily blue plastic.
“Yeah, that’s right scrawny.” Avery teased as Cromwell’s bend turned into a full bridge, one made all the more awkward since her legs were folded beneath that rapidly-shrinking arch. Knees splayed wide, Christian slid into place atop Lizzie’s tummy and bounced up and down, a blatant receipt for the treatment she’d endured so recently.
“EEERRRRRGHHH!” Cromwell strained as best she could, but Avery just banged her hands against the floor, a show of dominance that earned a round of tawdry hooting from somewhere a few rows back.
“Hear that?” she told the flustered Brit. “They can’t wait to see me finish you off!”
“Then do it if you can.” Elizabeth sneered. “Or are you waiting for mummy to give you permisMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHH!”
Avery leaned forward and pressed down, that fight-winning rack fully engulfing her opponent’s strained features. “Just wanted to see if you had any last words, bytch. Since you don’t…” the fireplug brunette rolled her shoulders repeatedly, all the better to smeck, smeck, smeck her oily firepower against the mewling expanse of Lizzie’s face. “Oooooooohhhhhh, your breathing is so shallow!” Avery teased. “Don’t tell me you never got smothered by anything better than a C-Cup back when you were AAAAAWWWWWWWWW FAAAAAAHHHHHHK!”
Christian’s top-heavy humiliation came to an abrupt, painful end when Lizzie managed to sink her teeth into those smothering curves! Prizing her hands free of the American’s grip, Cromwell buried her hands in Avery’s hair and bucked her hips in hopes in a desperate effort to throw Christian aside.
Determined not to be out-catted by the bosomy brunette even if she was about to be smothered into oily oblivion by an avalanche of Avery, Lizzie gnawed at the white meat Christian used to try and put Elizabeth in dreamland. The greasy, freckled fighter threw her pelvis into the task of her frantic escape attempt and she fashioned Christian's long dark mop into a makeshift rope then tugged to the side. Unprepared for the impromptu feline maneuver, Avery collapsed to her right hip and shoulder.
A gasping greasy-faced Lizzie emerged from the satiny oven of Avery's chest, her lower limbs unfolding. Drawing in huge gulps of air, Cromwell knew she couldn’t take time for full recovery lest she end up back in the fleshy furnace. She forced the barrel roll onward to a full reversal, the disheveled Cromwell ending in a full body pin of the buxom brunette. Pivoting her upper body, Cromwell threw a nasty right forearm into Avery's jaw, craacking her foe's features in the opposite direction. "Not...f*cking...again" Elizabeth shouted, punctuating each word with a following forearm smash, Cromwell resolved not to fall prey and again end up another wrestler's dishrag like she had with Estrina.
Stunned by the flurry of forearms, Christian raised a hand in an effort to defend her face from further punishment, but Lizzie swatted it aside and pinked her cheek with a slap for good measure. A second slap was more for Cromwell’s pleasure than for any real strategic merit, but it didn’t stop the brunette’s head from twisting to the side with the impact. Scrambling to a full mount immediately thereafter, Lizzie finalized her escape with a few spiteful Butt Bounces on Avery’s girls, then twisted around and slid back just far enough to settle her pert glutes down atop the bumfuzzled brunette.
“Oh please, like I’d bother with such low hanging fruit!” Cromwell scoffed when Christian immediately covered her curves with both hands. “I’ve got something far more satisfying in mind!” With that she leaned forward, hooked her arms around Avery’s thighs and pulled them back into a perfect Reverse Matchbook. Careful to arrange her weight in a way that made some sort of leggy counterattack all but impossible, the Best Brit Brat swatted at her foe’s rump for a moment, but this was no Bittersweet Symphony. Instead it had more in common with the vaunted Portia 9-11, as Avery discovered when Lizzie affixed a brutal claw to her undercarriage!
“THAT’S RIGHT, SNIFFLE AND SQUEAL!” Cromwell shouted as Christian bleated into her buttocks. “THEN YOU CAN-- Ooooohhhh, have you had enough already?” Lizzie’s tone dripped poisonous insincerity as Avery stopped pawing at her rump and slapped the mat instead. The sharp-eyed ref spotted it and called for the bell at once, not that the resounding CLANG inspired Lizzie to leave her perch.
No, Christian only drew fresh air again when the Announcer bellowed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission… ELIZABETH CROMWELL!” and the woman in question sprang to verticality with her arms raised in a tawdry ‘V’.
Making a valiant, almost successful effort to hide the surprise on her face, Lizzie turned her focus downward and kicked off the celebration with three quick but pitiless stomps to Avery’s gulping midsection! “Now I see why your mum made this match, sweet girl.” Cromwell purred after she’d tucked some hair behind her ears and ‘flicked’ her distended bottoms into place. “It is a sterling example of what the Americans call ‘Tough Love’. Apparently she’s tired of your complacent mediocrity and decided I was the best woman to beat it out of you.”
Still stunned by the speed with which the Englishwoman had not just turned the tide, but drowned her in it, Avery Christian rolled to all fours and grunted, “You got lucky, Cromwell. It won’t happen aga--”
CRAAACK!
Lizzie leaned down and lashed a hard, clapping swat across the brunette’s backside. This was followed by a handful of hair that collected Avery’s dark tresses in a greasy forward leaning topknot. “Luck had nothing to do with it, strumpet. I steeled myself, you wilted, simple as that.” She flattened her hand and swatted Christian’s rump a second time. “Now on your feeNGH!”
Avery reared back on her knees and jabbed an elbow into the Brit’s trim tummy. “Get your damned hands off me you disgusting pit sniffAAAARRRRRHHHHHHH!”
The Boarding School Princess raaaaaaaaaaaked her nails across Avery’s eyes, forcing the curvaceous brunette to collapse to all fours. Enraged by mention of her November humiliation, Lizzie hopped aboard Christian’s lower back and locked her legs tight. It might’ve been an attempt at a pony ride, but Avery rose almost at once, only to lose her balance on the slippery floor. Landing roughly on her side, Cromwell snaked her arms around Avery’s neck in a rough Sleeper, then rolled onto her back with the Bodyscissors still in place. Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeezing with every bit of vim and vigor she could muster, Lizzie rode out almost twenty seconds of thrashing with the sort of manic determination one usually noted in Miranda’s most faithful. Indeed she was still wrenching the Sleeper from side to side when Merle eased his way into the Pit and jostled her shoulder. “Let her go, Lizzie. She’s out.”
Lizzie blinked several times, shook her head as if to clear it, then nodded to the official. But rather than release her hooks she only shifted them down, the lithe Englishwoman treating herself to a greedy double handful of her opponent’s lolling juggs.
“Don’t you EVER dismiss me.” Cromwell’s lips were in Avery’s ear, but her dark eyes were locked on the camera so the target of her ire was far from obvious. After a final squeeze she released both grips and sent Christian tumbling onto her belly with a dismissive little kick before rising to her full height. She tapped her wrist and offered it to Merle. “Raise my hand.” Merle did and Elizabeth Cromwell preened like a queen. Silencing the busty ingénue didn’t erase last month’s debacle by a long shot, but it eased the sting a great deal. And God save the next poor trollop that dared mention it in her presence.
********
TIFFANY MAYES:
Seated comfortably in the small of her heathen opposition’s back, Tiffany Mayes collected the poor unfortunate’s hair in a drippy ponytail and yanked straight up just so she could get better access to the other woman’s chin. Once she had it, the Inquisitor took her prey’s bottom lip between thumb and forefinger and treated it to a slow, malicious twist. “Surely you didn’t think a mere change of venue could save you from our attention, sister?” Mayes asked. “Busy though we may be, you are never far from Miranda’s thoughts. Which means you are never far from mine.”
NYSSA BLOODWIND:
Snarling around the zealot’s steely fingers, Nyssa Bloodwind ‘splacked’ frustrated feet against the floor of the Pit even as she fought to secure a grip around Tiff’s pinchin’ wrist. It took the work of several hard seconds, but eventually she freed her lip from the blonde’s merciless ministrations. “I actually didn’t think you or any of the other tract hoarders would bother with the Oil.” the Nubile Navajo huffed. “Figured you were too much of a prude to strip down for NNNNNGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!”
Tiffany craaaaaaaaaaanked back on the hair-pull and to make matters worse, she collected Bloodwind’s right ankle in her other hand. Tugging on both ends it sure looked like she meant to touch Nyssa’s toes to the back of her skull sooner than later. “That’s where you’re wrong, sister.” Tiffany teased. “Shame is a burden of those unfamiliar with Righteous work. Me? I was more than happy to punish you within this particular Pit of Iniquity.
Mayes bounced head and leg toward each other rather than moving them in one continuous movement, drawing yips of pain with each stairstepping extension. "And when you're a cripple," Tiffany continued, "you can pray to see if the God you worship heals you." Bloodwind growls and shimmies her tawny frame beneath the domineering blonde Churchgoer. Unfortunately, with one leg occupied, Nyssa did a better job at spinning like a top across the slippery plastic than accomplishing anything of value. The effort had the Navajo huffing but still stuck, which seemed to please the Inquisitor to no end. Lifting her lightly tanned cheeks a few inches off Bloodwind's back, she SLAMMED her derriere into the base of Nyssa's spinal column. Thankfully, the impact and the oil have an upside too, allowing Bloodwind to slip her lower limb loose. It dropped to the Pit floor, Nyssa instant in her relief. She used her limited freedom to roll to her back under Tiffany's greasy mount. Hands moving to Mayes' hips, she tried to heave the blonde off to the right, but the Inquisitor's low center of gravity and the slick grips made it nigh impossible. With new targets made available to her, Tiffany fashioned a pointed right elbow and DROVE into the cleft of Nyssa's breasts. The Native American's dark eyes rolled halfway to white, Nyssa feeling like her heart skipped several beats.
Pleased by the jolt that passed through the heathen’s gleaming frame, Mayes raised her elbow and brought it down a second time! Bloodwind shuddered again, but she managed to get a hand on the blonde’s chin for a halfhearted push. Tiffany’s only acknowledgement was a single hard slap that CRAAACKED Nyssa’s head to one side. “I’ve waited to have you to myself for a long time, sister. Don‘t think this will be over quickly.”
Mayes rose to a crouch, all the better to shovel the brunette onto her belly. From there she turned her back on Bloodwind, left foot planted carefully between the Arizonan’s stems. Helping herself to Nyssa’s left ankle, she wedged it into the pit of the brunette’s right knee, then claimed the right ankle and drew it in tight against her left calf to secure the gammy knot.
“Tacky bytch.” Nyssa planted her elbows and tried to tear free of the trap with no noticeable results. “Why don’t you steal someone else’s movEEERRRRHHHHHH!”
Tiffany grabbed another huge handful of hair and pulled until the former Lightweight Champion raised as far as her arms would allow. “I’ve stolen NOTHING, sister.” Mayes opined. “I simply appropriated a heathen tool and made it something far better.” With that she put her right foot across Bloodwind’s shoulders and stomped down to THWHONK the heathen’s forehead against the Pit floor courtesy a vile Curbstomp.
Left in a facedown stupor, Nyssa’s torment was far from over. Above her, Tiffany dropped backward into a flawless bridge, but rather than cup Bloodwind’s chin she slipped fore and index fingers into the Navajo’s mouth and puuuuuuulled her smile a few inches wider! (yt)
Tough to maintain under ideal conditions, Mayes made it all the harder with her fish-hooks and the oily surface that was her base for the humiliating Deathlock. Nevertheless, the Inquisitor was not without her zeal and she tugged back on the cheeks of the Navajo warrior, Bloodwind lifting her head to remove the pressure as best she could.
"Repent," Tiffany grunts, "and beg for forgiveness. It may be granted."
Instead, the determined Nyssa was able to grab Tiffany's wrists and carefully unhook Mayes' digits, Bloodwind's chest and face plopped to the Pit floor, layering another coating of baby oil on her already glistening features. She spat out some Johnson & Johnson from between her lips and, when Tiffany unknotted her legs, Nyssa slithered forward, trying to gain some space. Being the veteran of the Pit, Bloodwind and the oddsmakers thought she might stroll against the Schoolgirl turned Zealot, but Tiffany had dominated, turning the Pit into her altar of Eternal Midnight.
On her feet and stalking, Mayes dropprf a knee between the shoulderblades of Nyssa, the Native arching in agony around the impaling knee cap. Grabbing each of Bloodwind's wrists, the Inquisitor created a slippery but stable Surfboard, threatening to pull Nyssa's arms out at the sockets. "There's only so many times I can be merciful," Tiffany assured. A grimacing Nyssa, legs flailing as they pushed over the oily plastic with no purchase, surely had a hard time in seeing the mercy granted so far, her fight ebbing perceptibly. yt
“I don’t give a damn about your mercy.” Bloodwind grunted. “We both know the Church doesn’t even believe in the concept, let alone practice it. So stop wasting your breaNNNGGGHHH!”
Mayes slid her knee up to the nape of Nyssa’s neck and leaned in with all her weight, thus forcing the former champion’s face against the slick floor while putting even more pressure on her splayed shoulders. “Don’t you dare lecture me about what my sisters and I believe.” the blonde hissed. “You don’t have the physical strength or the spiritual wherewithal to challenge me on the subject.” Withdrawing her knee without warning, Tiffany rolled Bloodwind to a seat, then transformed her Surfboard to a Straightjacket by crisscrossing the heathen’s forearms against her own throat. Pleased by the surprised little gasp this new tactic earned, Mayes drew the Straightjacket that much tighter, earning a pained gurgle from the necktied Navajo.
Outside the Pit, Al Carpenter patted the top of the wall and asked, “What do you say, Nyssa? Need to call it?”
“Nuuuhhhhh…. NO!” Bloodwind rasped. “She’s not gonna finish me like HHUUURRGGGHHHH!”
The Inquisitor grrrrrrrrroound her knee and jostled the Straightjacket up and down, just mashing Nyssa’s mouth and nose with her traitorous forearms. But hellish though it was, Bloodwind did not give in. In fact she started to THUMP a heel against the Pit, a simple beat that was soon picked up by the Bloodwind Nation all across the arena. “Rally all the support you wish, sister.” Tiffany growled. “It will not save you from the jaws of Midni--”
Nyssa twisted hard right, the tenacious Arizonan fighting to one knee without actually escaping the Straightjacket. Emboldened by this shift, Nyssa started to nod along with the beat before she tried to rise.
Though perhaps Miranda's most sadistic true believer, there's a hint of concern in the blonde's eyes as her straightjacket grip began to slide from Nyssa's wrists as Blooodwind managed to turn forty-five then ninety degrees. Concern became disbelief when the Nubile Navajo spun on her slippery backside to face her Inquisitor, breaking the 'jacket' then thrusting her folded legs forward into Tiffany's chest. The heavy grunt of the Churchgoer was quickly followed with a backward somersault from the force of the impact, Mayes ending on her chest near Nyssa's greasy feet. Bloodwind butt-scooted forward over the slippery plastic while grabbing the blonde's idle left wrist. She tugged the arm toward her and, in turn drags Tiffany's head in the same direction until the blonde's chin is on Bloodwind's crotch. Tawny-skinned legs wrapped like dual serpents around the back of Mayes' braincase, Nyssa locking her ankles. She squeezed all she could force out of her flexing, glistening thighs and into Tiffany's temples, the gray matter within being pressurized, Mayes' face growing rosier by the second. Tiffany burbled and huffed, hands pressing to Nyssa's thighs, shoving pointlessly against the Scissors.
"You can ask," Nyssa informed, "but you'll get as much mercy as you give."
The Inquisitor did no such thing, instead she pushed forward into the brunette’s trap, trying to gain just enough ground to--THERE! Mayes wrapped her hand around Nyssa’s throat and squeezed, her nails digging in deep. Bloodwind growled, coughed, shook her head ‘no’. Still squeeeeeeeezing like she meant to take Tiffany’s head off, she wrapped a hand around the zealot’s thumb and PULLED until the blonde jerked her hand away to prevent more damage.
“Torture’s not so fun, is it sweetie?” Nyssa grabbed a handful of hair and tugged to emphasize the point. “You want to tap out or can I send you off into my own brand of darknOOOOWWW DAMMIT!”
Tiff brought her own claws into the fray, the true believer raaaaaaaaaking two sets of nails down bronzed thighs. Bloodwind squirmed beneath those wicked talons, but refused to abandon the Scissors, so she snatched hold of Mayes’s wrists and pulled her arms away from the suffocating Scissors. “Go to sleep, honey.” Nyssa grunted. “Unless you want to tap out before it gets that farRRRRRGGGGGHHH!”
Bloodwind gave the blonde back her wrists post-haste when Mayes dug the point of her chin into the Navajo’s crotch. Placing her palms flat against the Pit floor, Tiffany bicycled her legs until she’d made it to her knees. The Scissors were still quite snug around her neck but now she had the heathen stacked on her shoulders and much better leverage with which to effect her escape. Curling one hand into a fist, she pwak-pwak-PWAAAKED a few punches into the brunette’s belly, then GOUGED at her navel with the tip of her index finger. “Release me, Bloodwind.” she huffed. “Unless you’re ready to EERRRHHH NOOOOOO UUNNNNNGGGHH!”
Nyssa crunched up, buried both hands in Tiffany’s hair and pulled back as hard as she could to effectively flip the Churchgoer onto her back in a slow motion ‘Rana that came to a halt with the Navajo seated atop her opponent’s chest with those damnable Scissors transformed into an equally dangerous Schoolgirl Pin.
Having been turned head over heels by the clever little heathen, Tiffany looked up from between the bracketing folded legs of the Nubile Navajo, Bloodwind's shins pressing down on the blonde's wriggling biceps. "Time to pray?" Nyssa asked with a predatory smirk. She banged her knees inward, thumping the inside of the joints against Mayes' temples, then scooted her crotch up to Tiffany's chin.
Sensing an unflattering end, the Inquisitor bucked with as much strength as she could muster though it seems she finds dominating most of the match could be nearly as draining as taking the punishment and what's more the super-fit Native has gas to burn in the Midnight Oil. The blonde's legs pushed toward the rafters, gently bucking Bloodwind until Nyssa puts a stop to it, reaching back and hooking the inside of her right elbow in the pit of the Churchgoer's left knee then doing likewise on the opposite side, trussing Mayes in a Matchbook.
All the blonde could do is wriggle and twist, hoping the oil would open a door to an escape, but Nyssa's Pit game was strong and her experience useful. She nuzzled her undercarriage to Tiffany's bitten lower lip, bringing the lightly tanned legs of the Inquisitor with her, Tiffany stacked even more vertically than before.
"Time to tap, schoolgirl," Nyssa affirmed, using the moniker from Mayes' past 'life' to tweak her.
“Never.” Mayes growled, her voice given the tiniest bit of echo thanks to Bloodwind’s pressing thighs. She twisted and fought to escape the heathen’s grasp, alas Nyssa’s coils didn’t so much as tremble. Refusing to give into frustration, the Inquisitor snarled, “Don’t think this is over, sister. I promise you any pleasure derived from this position is strictly pyrrhiCMMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHH!”
The Nubile Navajo inched up that last little bit, sealing her blonde off from the nose on down. Far more exhausted than her words seemed to indicate, Bloodwind leaaaaaaaaned forward until her forehead was touching the slippery blue floor. “Nighty-night, Tiff.” the brunette muttered. “Hope you like naptime in MY darkness!”
Ankles wrenched over her head by the strain of Bloodwind’s Matchbook, Tiffany could only squirm and buck, the blonde burning through a dangerous amount of oxygen in a final attempt to escape the diaphragm-crushing trap. In the end it remained an attempt and nothing more, Mayes slowly but surely fading until the once incessant wriggling of her rump was nothing more than the occasional dull twitch.
Eventually that faded too.
Shortly thereafter Nyssa looked up, her eyes seeking Al Carpenter. “She’s out, Al. Count her down.”
The ref flattened one hand and slapped the inner wall of the pit. “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE!”
The bell CLANGED and Nyssa released the Matchbook so she could slop over onto her back next to the slumbering zealot. Eventually she raised an arm and pumped it twice, much to the delight of the crowd. “I’m not a heathen and I’m sure as hell not your sister.” she wheezed to Tiffany. “But if you’ve gotta call me anything, Baroness to Be has a nice ring to it.”
********
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
The match was scheduled for a thirty minute time limit and usually that was fine, but the discreet little timer below the ‘tron said 06:58 and the FAWNatics started to worry about the dreaded ’time limit draw’. As for the women in the Pit, they were far too preoccupied to fetter themselves with such petty concerns, after all, there was a title on the line. Stretched out on her left side, Alexis Suguitan tightened her coil and was rewarded with a soft, breathy groan from her adversary. “Give it up, bytch.” she huffed. “Otherwise I’ll squeeze you out and take those briefs for MMMMMPPPHH!”
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
Lenore Lemarchand adjusted her own grip, twisting Alexis’s face back into the gleaming confines of her modest décolletage. Doing her best to flatten the Filipino Phenom’s nose against her sternum, Lenore slung a leg over Suguitan’s hip, hoping to keep her mired in place. “Title’s mine and the briefs stay with me, Lexie.” she grunted. “But I’m happy to accept yours.”
Alexis responded with muffled grunts, trying to pull her features free of the Baroness' bosom. The bytch had a hell of a grip on her soaked ebon mop and she hated to give up her Scissors, but breathing regularly was becoming extremely important and her golden-brown legs loosened, giving her more ability to create some slack while taking away the pressure on the Raven. The Filipino Phenom had taken a break from the FAWN wars after being moved by Bethany to mid-card status and beating Lenore in her Pit would mark the beginning of Act Three. She shoved both palms into Lenore's shoulders and was able to break loose. She slide back a few feet and clambered to her haunches, drawing in deep breaths and wondering why Lemarchand seemed fresh as a daisy, if a very oily one. "You had a good run, but I'm too big and too bad. Ask Portia."
Lenore mirrored Alexis’s position, took a moment to tuck some hair behind her ears. “Believe me, I’ve tried tracking your old boss down. But that ass kicking you doled out must’ve made a lasting impression because Baby is WAY off the grid. Doesn’t mean you’re good enough to take me down, though. Maybe whipping your ass will finally get her attention.”
Alexis snorted and came forward when Lemarchand beckoned, the pair of brunettes meeting in the middle with an oily ‘smeck!’ Working quickly to get her arms around Alexis’s waist, Lenore squeezed tight and wrenched to one side, trying to bring her challenger back to the floor.
While Lenore went low, Alexis started to wrap her arms around the Raven's noggin, hoping to pull her into a slippery Side Headlock where she could whip her foe to the slick plastic that covered the Pit. But Lenore secured her grip prior. She cinched the Hug tight, alabaster biceps glistening, drawing a throaty gasp from Alexis with the Hug and, when Lemarchand drove to the Filipino's left, Sugutian's shoulder bounced into the oily padding. Trying to regain a base before her foe could consolidate, Alexis tried to sneak her arms inside those of the Raven and break the coil. She succeeded in getting inside but then found out why when Lenore cinched tight again, her limbs now stuck within the embrace. The arms allowed for a little more room to draw in breath, but aside from having her soles slipping over the oily Pit, Alexis struggled under lockdown.
The position was quite awkward, but Lenore was nothing if not patient and she slowly buy surely managed to work one leg over Suguitan’s torso. Knees planted close to Alexis’s hips, Lenore pressed her chin into the hollow of her foe’s shoulder and worked the Hug up until it was snugged just beneath the other brunette’s armpits.
Grunting as she was forced to carry the Baroness’s weight, Alexis continued to work her own Hug, occasionally halving her grip so she could pound at Lemarchand’s ribs or slap at her slick glutes. “Get off me!” she snapped after an especially hard squeeze from above.
Lenore shook her head ‘no’ and snuggled in a little closer. “You want me to let go? Break my grip.” she murmured in the Penthouse Panther’s ear. “Or you can cede the Pit to me.” She pressed down and worked her torso from side to side, adding a little chest to chest scrub for Alexis’s continued displeasure.
Her size made useless by Lenore's slick maneuvering of her frame; the heat from the lights, percolating oil, the Raven's warm breath on her cheeks and the tight torso to torso presence of her foe made Alexis feel a bit faint. Never dreaming the battle would last so long, Suguitan could feel her energy waning with each humiliating swipe across her body. Alexis abruptly gave up on any embrace of her own and moved her hands to Lemarchand's hips, trying to barrel roll her ivory-skinned tormentor. It was a bold move but one she needed to make. Her heart flew as the sweep to her left got the duo rolling and she's on top, but it's only for a split-second as the Oil Baroness had the experience to predict the gambit and simply kept the roll going to a full 360, ending on top of Suguitan once more, Alexis even more gassed than before.
Ending her hug without so much as a word, Lenore grabbed hold of Alexis’s wrists and pinned her arms high overhead. In the same breath she twined her feet under Suguitan’s ankles and stretched them into a wide, unpleasant ‘V’.
Full Body Pin, Lenore Lemarchand to Alexis Suguitan.
Forcing the CEO’s wrists together in a tight bundle, the Raven stretched the Grapevine a little wider, then raised her hips and smacked them into Alexis’s tummy. She repeated the tactic several more times, then channeled her inner Pandora by pressing her breasts against the struggling battler’s oil-slicked features. “You may be a panther in the penthouse, but you’re a kitten in the oil.” Lenore was all smiles with her one cheek pressed against he crown of Suguitan’s skull. “Do you want to admit it out loud or are you gonna be a brat and make the techs carry you out of here?”
Feeling drained and dominated, the Raven pancaking her below in a steady drumbeat of pelvic thrusts, forcing more out of her than she ever expected Lemarchand could, the Filipino tried to wrestle her arms free. Despite the slick goo, she couldn’t break her wrists loose from within Lemarchand's palms. But without Lenore's arms available to lock her head in place, the Raven's smother was spotty, Alexis able to twist her face to the side and get some air. The oily alabaster of the Baroness again lifted off a few inches and she THWHACKED her bikini-clad bod into that of the woman who ended a legend's career and did so with impunity.
"Don't think you can ride out five more minutes and get the draw. You don't want to know what I can do to you over five minutes."
The dripping arrogance from the Raven provided a burst of energy. Alexis tried to get her legs free but the grapevines was too f*cking snug and with the lower limbs widened, there's no way to buck Lenore off. Eventually the Panther was able to free one hand. She buried it into Lenore's dark, matted mane and tried to peel at least part of the Courtier away from her.
Jaw set as Suguitan tugged at her hair, Lenore thrust her hips down and streeeeeetched the other brunette’s gleaming stems a little wider. “Getting catty, are we ‘Lexie?” she growled. “I can do that too.”
Enduring the hand in her hair to keep Alexis’s other hand pinned to the floor, Lemarchand curled her unoccupied hand into a talon and helped herself to a greedy grip on the challenger’s left breast. The oil-soaked lycra provided no protection whatsoever, as evidenced by Suguitan’s moan of pain when the Raven squeezed hard. “Amara wore gold against me too.” Lenore huffed. “Didn’t work for her. Won’t work for WHOOANNNNGGGHH!”
Alexis finally wrenched her other hand loose of Lemarchand’s grip and she celebrated with a hard punch to the ribs. Unwilling to grant any level of skirmish to the domineering Baroness, Suguitan matched Lenore’s chest grip with one of her own, the Penthouse Panther happily reminding Lemarchand’s nipples what she could do with her claws. “You can’t hang with me, skinny.” she taunted. “Soon as I get my claws hooked in I’ll tear you apart!”
Having terrorized Lenore early with these tactics, bringing the penthouse to the pit, Alexis went all in again, getting back to her bread and butter. Lemarchand steered the fight away for long stretches and was all the better for it, but now the trip home would end her run as Oil Baronness in the cattiest way possible.
The golden-brown Phenom poured it on with her talons, both of Lenore's gurls feeling the wrath of the Panther and as a wincing Lemarchand was distracted by the plucking and tweasing, Alexis trying to turn Lenore to her back and switch positions. She threw her mass to the left and forced the Raven to nearly ninety degrees. The effort and failure forced a loud sigh out of the Filipino but Lenore was surely at a tipping point. Alexis grunted loudly, putting everything she has left and couldn’t get the Raven to even forty-five degrees, Lenore's earlier handiwork apparently having drained her enough to keep Suguitan from being able to upend her as was Lemarchand's own stinging grip. If she could just get out of the Grapevine that let Lenore kept her unbreakable base. Alexis loosened her pincer from one nub and reached around to send a rake down the glistening ivory back of her foe to convince her.
Lenore winced as Suguitan scored her back and made the exotique pay for it with another hard-hearted squeeze. Currently losing the claw battle two to one, Lenore flattened her free hand into a paddle and slapped Alexis’s cheek no less than half a dozen times!
Suguitan couldn’t block with both hands occupied, so she bore down that much harder and raaaaaaaaaaaaked the Baroness’s back a second time. In the same breath she tried to wrest her legs free of Lemarchand’s control, but the other brunette continued to impose her will on the war down below. She was readying for a third run down the Raven’s back when Lenore stopped slapping and mashed the Phenom’s cheeks together in a humiliating fish face. “That all you got, ‘Lexie? No wonder you haven’t found a way out of VanBuren’s shadOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!”
Alexis snatched hold of those championship briefs and gave them a monstrous tug that served as excellent therapy AND finally flopped the Courtier onto her back! Baring her teeth in a vicious grin as she scrambled into the mount, Alexis sneered, “All right, bytch. Time to pluck your feathers.”
Alexis hurriedly slipped her lower limbs free of the Grapevine and folded them underneath her as she moved to a straddle of Lenore's waist, a 'chewing' grip into Lemarchand's left bosom joined by a right palm clenching around Lenore's throat. "Take down the Baroness," Alexis huffed as Lenore's face turned a glowing pink, her windpipe being shut by the catty Filipino. "And my stock goes way the hell up!" Suguitan, seeing the timer reach the two-minute warning, scooted up Lenore's frame, placing her golden-brown booty on the Raven's chest. With her clawing hand freed to do further damage, she sank it into the Courtier's scalp to hold Lenore's head in place and released her choking right-handed grasp to pull that arm back and deliver a time-saving forearm shiver to Lenore's jaw that could put her out on the spot.
The wind-up was definitely intimidating, but it also gave Lemarchand enough time to plant her feet against the floor of the pit. Bridging up the instant Alexis brought the hammer down, she managed to send the Panther’s shot into the floor instead of her mouth. Of course the evasion only wedged her chin that much deeper into the fork of Alexis’s crotch and Suguitan wasn’t about to be denied. Clamping her thighs tight against the Courtier’s cheeks, Alexis maintained the hair-pull as she twisted her other hand to one side so she could cover the Baroness’s mouth with her palm. Pinching the other brunette’s nostrils between thumb and forefinger, Suguitan taunted, “You want to tap out, bytch? C’mon, I want to see if you have the guts to peel off that title and hand it to NNNGGGGHHHH!”
Lenore popped her hips and jammed both knees into Alexis’s lower back. Then she hooked her legs around the challenger’s waist and squeeeeeeeeeezed as hard as she could in hopes of tumbling the Panther off her scratching post.
Seeing concern in Lenore's dark eyes as she cut off the bytch's air supply. Alexis was laying down the ground rules for how the match would end when the Raven's knees JAMMED into her back. Lenore slipped the lower portion of her stems around the glistening midriff of the Panther and locked her ankles in front, thumping her heels into Alexis' navel for good measure. Lexie went bug-eyed from the unexpected invasion. Her hands reflexively moved away from her smother to try and unhook Lenore's Scissors, but before she could manage, the Black Courtier forced her sinewy, ivory stems forward. Alexis tried to fight the power in the gams, her arms pinwheeling to stay mounted, but she tumbled over, ending on her back, legs airborne and quickly collected by the hooking guns of the Raven.
As positions and fortunes were radically changed the bell CLANGED to bring the match to an end. But Lenore, showing she'd considered this possibility, immediately demanded another five minutes. The ref agreed to the extension if Alexis made it unanimous. Giving up Suguitan's legs for a moment, Lenore's right hand covered Alexis' mouth, the mumbling 'NMMMMPPHHH' never acknowledged. Lenore sank the left hand into Alexis' oily mop and nodded the Filipino's head for her. Satisfied, the zebra put five minutes back on the board, the crowd roaring its approval.
Granted reprieve from the tyranny of the clock, Lenore used her grip on Alexis’s hair to yank her head off the floor, then BWUMP it back down. Now the bottom of the Oil Pit had infinitely more give than that of a standard ring, but it still but it still put a glassy sheen in the Phenom’s dark eyes. She followed with a second bounce, then let loose of Suguitan’s locks to paintbrush her cheeks forehand and backhand.
“Never had to go into overtime before.” Lemarchand noted as she slid through the Filipino’s splayed stems. “An impressive effort, not that it’s going to do you much good.”
“Bytch!” Alexis moaned as she found her face framed by Lenore’s thighs, “I never agreed to anything!”
“Oh, do you want to submit?” the Raven teased. “Say it loud enough for the ref to hear you, please!”
“Screw you! Alexis whipped her legs up but Lemarchand was ready for just such a reaction and deftly hooked her behind the knees. With the Panther knotted up tight, Lenore leaaaaaaaaaaned forward until her forehead touched the mat and Alexis’s bronzed booty was pointed at the rafters. Knees spread wide, Lemarchand ground her crotch against the challenger’s muzzle and teased, “Ready to give?”
Alexis mumbled something unintelligible, but her buns swung from side to side in a sign Lenore interpreted as ‘no’. Satisfied, she held the Matchbook for several more seconds, then tossed Suguitan’s legs aside and straightened up. Just like that she turned around set her glutes on the point of ‘Lexie’s chin, forcing her to look up at the stylized oil derrick and ‘BARRONESS’ on Lenore’s championship togs. “Portia showed you this a few times, right?” she asked. “Would you tell me how mine compares?” She pushed up and slid back, engulfing Suguitan’s nose a heartbeat before she crooked her left hand into a spade and affixed it to the swath of defenseless golden lycra armoring her rival’s undercarriage!
VanBuren's pilfered 911 firmly affixed, Alexis howled in agony but the sound was mostly swallowed by Lenore's domineering cheeks. Never had Portia managed to put Lexie in the ultimate position of dominance and never had Baby been so foolish as to give advice on how to get out of it. So the Panther's hands pressed against Lenore's hips as ineffectively as many had against Portia‘s. She shoved for all she had remaining but the effort gains barely a budge. With Lemarchand expertly ripping into her kitty in addition to smothering her into semiconscious oblivion, Alexis made the only choice she feels available to her. She uncurled her bared talons and instead of raking the Raven's thighs, she frantically slapped them, signaling her surrender as best she can, the muffled pleas from below not registering to anyone but Lenore's eardrums and undercarriage.
"Oh. Didn't you know?" Lenore asked as she began to grrrrrrrrrind her crotch against Alexis’s face. "No submissions in overtime. Besides you made me work extra and I have to show the next girl what running out the clock will mean for her chances.”
Alexis moaned and kept on tapping, the tenor of her, ahem, vibrations, picking up a new urgency as Lemarchand began sweeping her center over the cartography of Suguitan’s defenseless features. In search of a most emphatic exclamation point, Lenore suddenly hooked her fingers into claws and raaaaaaaaaaaked Suguitan from navel to rack. Eyes lighting on Alexis’s sodden, slippery briefs, Lenore spread her opponent’s thighs wide, then made Suguitan sob against her buns with a white knuckle pincer grip administered to her foe’s defenseless camel toe.
Eventually the high pitched keen died away to the softest of burbles, Suguitan settling out into a used up starfish. One last pinch drew no response from the slumbering brunette, so Lemarchand treated her to a penthouse worthy nipple twist just to be sure. Barely a whimper against her briefs, so she looked to the ref and said, “Make it official, please.” The official swatted the wall of the Pit and Lenore accompanied his count with sharp tugs on her prey’s nubs.
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVE!
Showing the camera a satisfied smile once she was announced the victrix, Lenore finished her work on those defenseless juggs with a possessive little squeeze. “You’ve taken me further than anyone before you.” Lemarchand said to the slumbering Panther. “That should be enough to spare you now, but the fact of the matter is, I don’t like you. And I know that if our positions were reversed you’d make me play scratching post until the refs pulled you off. So I’m going to add your bottoms to all the others.” She leaned forward, hooked her thumbs into the hips of Suguitan’s bottoms and sloooooooooowly peeled them down the other brunette’s legs.
Rising with her trophy, the Oil Baroness held it overhead, turning this way and that to show off that glittery $ to the whole arena. Eventually she put one foot on Suguitan’s cheek and turned her head to one side, Lemarchand displaying her foe’s face and togs in a single domineering pose. Then she tucked those purloined briefs against her own hip so she could hoist the Raven sigil to the rafters until the ref told her they were out of time almost thirty seconds later.
Ring in 2019 with the best Oil Pit action from the last month of 2018, complete with an intense altercation between Pit newcomers, a high-stakes clash between flyweight stars and Lenore Lemarchand's steepest challenge yet! Can the Baroness stroll into the new year as FAWN's undisputed Queen of the Oil? Or will she tumble to the slippery wayside as a new warrior takes on her mantle? Read on to find out!
~RF
******
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
“Don’t think I didn’t recognize that look on your smug little face.” Elizabeth Cromwell grunted as she settled into a weary seat on the small of her opponent’s back. “You thought this was going to be easy, didn’t you? Thought I was permanently damaged goods after that sweaty idiot robbed me of a well-deserved victory?”
AVERY CHRISTIAN:
Beneath her, Avery Christian managed to get her hands flat against the floor of the Pit following a few seconds of awkward scrabbling. “I didn’t give a shyt if you were damaged goods coming INTO this match.” the curvaceous brunette grunted. “But you’re damned sure going to be on the trash heap when I get finished with youUUNNNNGGGHHH EEERRRRRHHHH BYTCH!”
The Boarding School Princess combined a quick Butt Bounce with a savage double handful of her opponent’s hair, then continued to puuuuuuuuuuull until Christian’s feet beat an erratic, splattery tattoo against the slick blue floor. Delighted by the feel of the strumpet wriggling beneath her, Cromwell halved the hair-pull to patter several slaps against Avery’s cheeks before sliding that hand down for a greedy grip on the brunette’s juggs. “Nepotism might’ve put you in the Pit, Avery Christian.” Lizzie sneered. “Unfortunately it is the cruelty of Elizabeth Cromwell that will drive you from it in a single, sobbing stroke.”
The glistening, freckled Brit dug her digits into the excess bounty the Boss' kid enjoyed. It would not do to be beneath such a bosom, no not at all. But shredding it from above was a sheer delight as was the mewling from Christian. Avery damn well had some obvious tools but a torn ACL put her on the shelf and in the time since she'd been back, it seemed she might have been better off staying there. Giving up her udderly painful grasp, Elizabeth pivoted, spinning to a reverse straddle. She snatched the bad wheel, Avery's left, and wrenched away on the limb, bending and twisting, Cromwell dutifully working the weak spot. Christian bit her lower lip, brown eyes welling. Another violent yank drew a yelp and curse from Boss Junior. It also gave her a shot of adrenaline to try and use the slippery surface to wriggle out from under Elizabeth's mount, kicking her leg as she tried to free herself, accepting the pain the accompanied the attempt.
Lizzie didn’t appreciate the jail-break in the slightest and she expressed her displeasure with Avery’s efforts by threading her fingers between the brunette’s toes for a sharp, mean-spirited twist! “Mummy’s money can’t buy you out of this one, my sniveling little cushion.” Cromwell sniped. “Better to just bawl your surrender now and let me enjoy the fruits of a glorious victorEERRRRGGGGHHH!”
Christian braced on one elbow, twisted ‘round as best she could and hooked a handful of Lizzie’s royal blue bottoms for a malicious wedgie. “You must be outta your effin’ mind if you think I’m gonna submit to you.” Avery huffed. “ Scrawny little pipsqueak like you? I’ll finish you off whenever I feel like OOOOOOOWWWWWWW!”
Cromwell abandoned the toe-twist for another hard hair-pull, then a half Chinlock that had her tugging Avery’s ankle toward the back of her skull in a sort of AHW catfight approved Bow & Arrow. “Watch your mouth, bytch.” Lizzie hissed. “Lest you find out what happens when I decide you aren’t worth my merAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Surprise, surprise, Avery wasn’t interested in mercy, as evidenced by the callous way she slipped out of the Chinlock and CHOMPED down on Cromwell’s encroaching hand!
Reacting as if Baby Boss ripped out a chunk of her hand with the clench of her teeth, Cromwell released her hold above to pull her hand free from Avery's choppers then brought her other hand to it to massage away the pain and bite marks. With Lizzie mightily distracted by the incisors incisions in her mitt, Christian's able to slink out from under the auburn-haired grappler. Having been down for a healthy portion of the Pit battle, Avery breathed a sigh of relief for a moment as she scooted to a seat on the oily surface. She folded her legs and waited for Elizabeth to come calling.
It didn’t take long for the self-proclaimed Best Brit to arrive and Baby Boss let loose, unfolding her stems at the risen Lizzie's knees. The glistening Liverpool native plopped to the Pit floor on said bruised joints, grimacing. Immediately, Avery snatched a wrist of her foe and pulled Lizzie's torso between her now extended gams. Christian clamped a Scissors around Cromwell's ivory-skinned waist, crushing ribs from both sides. A groaning, gasping Elizabeth had her eyes opened to the power Christian could provide from her legs and, as Avery slid Lizzie toward her through the greasy Scissors, she moved Cromwell's increasingly fearful features toward the massive mountains of flesh growing ever closer.
"Mom picked you for a reason, bytch!" Avery growled.
Far too concerned about Christian’s encroaching curves to bother with a verbal retort, Lizzie planted her free hand against the floor, but found no purchase there. Rearing back on her haunches delayed the inevitable for at least a moment, alas Avery still had control over one hand and she repaid the tootsie torture with an equally nasty gnawing on those frantic fingers! “MISERABLE TROLLOP!” the Englishwoman railed. “SPIT ME OUT THIS INSTNNNNGGGGHH!”
Christian sat up halfway, just far enough to CRAAACK a rough slap across the other wrestler’s mouth. Then she turned her Wristlock into a Knuckle-Lock and bent Lizzie’s hand back toward her own forearm in a nasty game of mercy. “Not a chance, baby.” she sneered. “At least not until you’ve motorboated yourself hoarse against my UNGH!”
Cromwell curled her free hand into a fist and pwaaaked it against the brunette’s belly. “If someone is destined for humiliation tonight, it is you, braOOOOFFFFFHHHH!”
Avery redoubled her efforts on the Bodyscissors, then flattened her free hand into a paddle and paintbrushed Lizzie’s cheek once, twice, thrice! “Humiliating is having to start my campaign with a curtain jerker like you!” the black-clad battler sneered. “But once you’re burbling beneath my juggs I’ll turn my attention to someone like Nyssa Bloodwind or even Lenore herEEERRRRRHHHHH-- leggo, bytch.”
Lizzie, who’d filled her remaining hand with a death-grip on Christian’s right breast, did no such thing. “I do believe one of us is in for a lesson in abject suffering.” she said gravely. “I promise it’s not me.”
Though she had a handful of Avery, clenching the breast with all the strength her greasy grip could manage, Lizzie's efforts to break free were absolutely fruitless. And while Bethany's baby girl gritted her teeth through the grasp on her teat, she continued to draw her foe's freckled, frazzled face closer to her cavernous cleavage. To move Cromwell toward her face-enveloped doom, Christian had to allow some oily slack and Elizabeth decided to throw caution to the wind. She couldn't go backward but maybe…
Lizzie pushed forward, sliding through the keyhole of Avery's stems. Not expecting Cromwell to join in her effort to force the Brit toward her, Christian was unprepared for the brat. Lizzie got a faceful for a split-second but then slid over the top of the twin peaks and once her hips cleared the greased inner thighs of her foe, she's birthed out of the Scissors, ending in a scrambling Schoolgirl Press of the Baby Boss. Lizzie's thighs folded atop her calves, the limbs bracketing Avery's disbelieving mug.
"You ever get tired of being a disappointment to Mommy?" Elizabeth snorted.
“You’re the only disappointment around heEEEERRRRRHHHH BYTCH!” Avery’s growl devolved into a wail of pain as Cromwell once again targeted her chest, albeit with both hands this time.
“Oh, I’ve had my share of ups and downs.” the Briton admitted during this terrible tweaking. “But I always bounce back. And I don’t just land on my feet, more often than not I land on a most comfortable seat!” The Boarding School Princess jostled up and down, driving her pert little tush into Avery’s neck to emphasize the point. “Speaking of which, are you ready to tell the world you’re little better than my cushion? Or do I have to maul these fulsome tits of your for a little while longWHOOOAAAAHHH!”
Avery kicked her legs up, hooked her calves under Cromwell’s biceps and pulled back to bring the Bratty Brit to the Pit floor in an improvised Sunset Flip. No pins in the oil of course, not that Christian had anything so technical on her mind. Soon as she’d made her seat the brunette knotted her fists into a Double Axehandle and THWHUMPED it into the pit of Cromwell’s stomach. “Did you really think you were going to win, bytch?” she snapped at the bug-eyed battler. “You’re just here to pad my highlight reel!” Avery followed up with three more spiteful Belly Smashes, then raaaaaaaaked her claws down Lizzie’s chest half a dozen times before settling in for a vindictive, white-knuckle grip on Cromwell’s modest bounty.
Cromwell's deep guttural groans from the impact of the Axhandle turned to shrieks of pain from the scoring of her spandex-covered cups to mewls of protest when Avery squeezed the tender tissue of the so-called Best Brit. The world had been turned upside down in an instant by the Baby Boss. Cromwell at least had her legs in front of most of Christian, keeping her head out of range of any concussive blows, but the way Avery cattily ravaged what she had available brought Lizzie to sobs.
The sneering grin of Avery drove Cromwell to engage. She grasped at Christian's wrists, trying to control the attack. Widening her legs instead of fashioning them into a Scissors, Cromwell swung them together, hoping to provide an unusual Ear-Ringer with her calves. Those legs clunked against Avery's temples more than the curvy brunette's ears, but at least the impact rattled Christian enough for Elizabeth to scramble to her haunches and meet Avery on equal ground. The auburn-haired grappler went face to face, lacing her fingers with Christian's and testing her strength against the pneumatic Baby Boss, each woman leaning her oily spandex and the contents beneath into the other. It's a maneuver that seems ill-conceived and indeed Avery began to bend the Brit back, threatening to fold Lizzie over, thighs atop calves and back atop oily blue plastic.
“Yeah, that’s right scrawny.” Avery teased as Cromwell’s bend turned into a full bridge, one made all the more awkward since her legs were folded beneath that rapidly-shrinking arch. Knees splayed wide, Christian slid into place atop Lizzie’s tummy and bounced up and down, a blatant receipt for the treatment she’d endured so recently.
“EEERRRRRGHHH!” Cromwell strained as best she could, but Avery just banged her hands against the floor, a show of dominance that earned a round of tawdry hooting from somewhere a few rows back.
“Hear that?” she told the flustered Brit. “They can’t wait to see me finish you off!”
“Then do it if you can.” Elizabeth sneered. “Or are you waiting for mummy to give you permisMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHH!”
Avery leaned forward and pressed down, that fight-winning rack fully engulfing her opponent’s strained features. “Just wanted to see if you had any last words, bytch. Since you don’t…” the fireplug brunette rolled her shoulders repeatedly, all the better to smeck, smeck, smeck her oily firepower against the mewling expanse of Lizzie’s face. “Oooooooohhhhhh, your breathing is so shallow!” Avery teased. “Don’t tell me you never got smothered by anything better than a C-Cup back when you were AAAAAWWWWWWWWW FAAAAAAHHHHHHK!”
Christian’s top-heavy humiliation came to an abrupt, painful end when Lizzie managed to sink her teeth into those smothering curves! Prizing her hands free of the American’s grip, Cromwell buried her hands in Avery’s hair and bucked her hips in hopes in a desperate effort to throw Christian aside.
Determined not to be out-catted by the bosomy brunette even if she was about to be smothered into oily oblivion by an avalanche of Avery, Lizzie gnawed at the white meat Christian used to try and put Elizabeth in dreamland. The greasy, freckled fighter threw her pelvis into the task of her frantic escape attempt and she fashioned Christian's long dark mop into a makeshift rope then tugged to the side. Unprepared for the impromptu feline maneuver, Avery collapsed to her right hip and shoulder.
A gasping greasy-faced Lizzie emerged from the satiny oven of Avery's chest, her lower limbs unfolding. Drawing in huge gulps of air, Cromwell knew she couldn’t take time for full recovery lest she end up back in the fleshy furnace. She forced the barrel roll onward to a full reversal, the disheveled Cromwell ending in a full body pin of the buxom brunette. Pivoting her upper body, Cromwell threw a nasty right forearm into Avery's jaw, craacking her foe's features in the opposite direction. "Not...f*cking...again" Elizabeth shouted, punctuating each word with a following forearm smash, Cromwell resolved not to fall prey and again end up another wrestler's dishrag like she had with Estrina.
Stunned by the flurry of forearms, Christian raised a hand in an effort to defend her face from further punishment, but Lizzie swatted it aside and pinked her cheek with a slap for good measure. A second slap was more for Cromwell’s pleasure than for any real strategic merit, but it didn’t stop the brunette’s head from twisting to the side with the impact. Scrambling to a full mount immediately thereafter, Lizzie finalized her escape with a few spiteful Butt Bounces on Avery’s girls, then twisted around and slid back just far enough to settle her pert glutes down atop the bumfuzzled brunette.
“Oh please, like I’d bother with such low hanging fruit!” Cromwell scoffed when Christian immediately covered her curves with both hands. “I’ve got something far more satisfying in mind!” With that she leaned forward, hooked her arms around Avery’s thighs and pulled them back into a perfect Reverse Matchbook. Careful to arrange her weight in a way that made some sort of leggy counterattack all but impossible, the Best Brit Brat swatted at her foe’s rump for a moment, but this was no Bittersweet Symphony. Instead it had more in common with the vaunted Portia 9-11, as Avery discovered when Lizzie affixed a brutal claw to her undercarriage!
“THAT’S RIGHT, SNIFFLE AND SQUEAL!” Cromwell shouted as Christian bleated into her buttocks. “THEN YOU CAN-- Ooooohhhh, have you had enough already?” Lizzie’s tone dripped poisonous insincerity as Avery stopped pawing at her rump and slapped the mat instead. The sharp-eyed ref spotted it and called for the bell at once, not that the resounding CLANG inspired Lizzie to leave her perch.
No, Christian only drew fresh air again when the Announcer bellowed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission… ELIZABETH CROMWELL!” and the woman in question sprang to verticality with her arms raised in a tawdry ‘V’.
Making a valiant, almost successful effort to hide the surprise on her face, Lizzie turned her focus downward and kicked off the celebration with three quick but pitiless stomps to Avery’s gulping midsection! “Now I see why your mum made this match, sweet girl.” Cromwell purred after she’d tucked some hair behind her ears and ‘flicked’ her distended bottoms into place. “It is a sterling example of what the Americans call ‘Tough Love’. Apparently she’s tired of your complacent mediocrity and decided I was the best woman to beat it out of you.”
Still stunned by the speed with which the Englishwoman had not just turned the tide, but drowned her in it, Avery Christian rolled to all fours and grunted, “You got lucky, Cromwell. It won’t happen aga--”
CRAAACK!
Lizzie leaned down and lashed a hard, clapping swat across the brunette’s backside. This was followed by a handful of hair that collected Avery’s dark tresses in a greasy forward leaning topknot. “Luck had nothing to do with it, strumpet. I steeled myself, you wilted, simple as that.” She flattened her hand and swatted Christian’s rump a second time. “Now on your feeNGH!”
Avery reared back on her knees and jabbed an elbow into the Brit’s trim tummy. “Get your damned hands off me you disgusting pit sniffAAAARRRRRHHHHHHH!”
The Boarding School Princess raaaaaaaaaaaked her nails across Avery’s eyes, forcing the curvaceous brunette to collapse to all fours. Enraged by mention of her November humiliation, Lizzie hopped aboard Christian’s lower back and locked her legs tight. It might’ve been an attempt at a pony ride, but Avery rose almost at once, only to lose her balance on the slippery floor. Landing roughly on her side, Cromwell snaked her arms around Avery’s neck in a rough Sleeper, then rolled onto her back with the Bodyscissors still in place. Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeezing with every bit of vim and vigor she could muster, Lizzie rode out almost twenty seconds of thrashing with the sort of manic determination one usually noted in Miranda’s most faithful. Indeed she was still wrenching the Sleeper from side to side when Merle eased his way into the Pit and jostled her shoulder. “Let her go, Lizzie. She’s out.”
Lizzie blinked several times, shook her head as if to clear it, then nodded to the official. But rather than release her hooks she only shifted them down, the lithe Englishwoman treating herself to a greedy double handful of her opponent’s lolling juggs.
“Don’t you EVER dismiss me.” Cromwell’s lips were in Avery’s ear, but her dark eyes were locked on the camera so the target of her ire was far from obvious. After a final squeeze she released both grips and sent Christian tumbling onto her belly with a dismissive little kick before rising to her full height. She tapped her wrist and offered it to Merle. “Raise my hand.” Merle did and Elizabeth Cromwell preened like a queen. Silencing the busty ingénue didn’t erase last month’s debacle by a long shot, but it eased the sting a great deal. And God save the next poor trollop that dared mention it in her presence.
********
TIFFANY MAYES:
Seated comfortably in the small of her heathen opposition’s back, Tiffany Mayes collected the poor unfortunate’s hair in a drippy ponytail and yanked straight up just so she could get better access to the other woman’s chin. Once she had it, the Inquisitor took her prey’s bottom lip between thumb and forefinger and treated it to a slow, malicious twist. “Surely you didn’t think a mere change of venue could save you from our attention, sister?” Mayes asked. “Busy though we may be, you are never far from Miranda’s thoughts. Which means you are never far from mine.”
NYSSA BLOODWIND:
Snarling around the zealot’s steely fingers, Nyssa Bloodwind ‘splacked’ frustrated feet against the floor of the Pit even as she fought to secure a grip around Tiff’s pinchin’ wrist. It took the work of several hard seconds, but eventually she freed her lip from the blonde’s merciless ministrations. “I actually didn’t think you or any of the other tract hoarders would bother with the Oil.” the Nubile Navajo huffed. “Figured you were too much of a prude to strip down for NNNNNGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!”
Tiffany craaaaaaaaaaanked back on the hair-pull and to make matters worse, she collected Bloodwind’s right ankle in her other hand. Tugging on both ends it sure looked like she meant to touch Nyssa’s toes to the back of her skull sooner than later. “That’s where you’re wrong, sister.” Tiffany teased. “Shame is a burden of those unfamiliar with Righteous work. Me? I was more than happy to punish you within this particular Pit of Iniquity.
Mayes bounced head and leg toward each other rather than moving them in one continuous movement, drawing yips of pain with each stairstepping extension. "And when you're a cripple," Tiffany continued, "you can pray to see if the God you worship heals you." Bloodwind growls and shimmies her tawny frame beneath the domineering blonde Churchgoer. Unfortunately, with one leg occupied, Nyssa did a better job at spinning like a top across the slippery plastic than accomplishing anything of value. The effort had the Navajo huffing but still stuck, which seemed to please the Inquisitor to no end. Lifting her lightly tanned cheeks a few inches off Bloodwind's back, she SLAMMED her derriere into the base of Nyssa's spinal column. Thankfully, the impact and the oil have an upside too, allowing Bloodwind to slip her lower limb loose. It dropped to the Pit floor, Nyssa instant in her relief. She used her limited freedom to roll to her back under Tiffany's greasy mount. Hands moving to Mayes' hips, she tried to heave the blonde off to the right, but the Inquisitor's low center of gravity and the slick grips made it nigh impossible. With new targets made available to her, Tiffany fashioned a pointed right elbow and DROVE into the cleft of Nyssa's breasts. The Native American's dark eyes rolled halfway to white, Nyssa feeling like her heart skipped several beats.
Pleased by the jolt that passed through the heathen’s gleaming frame, Mayes raised her elbow and brought it down a second time! Bloodwind shuddered again, but she managed to get a hand on the blonde’s chin for a halfhearted push. Tiffany’s only acknowledgement was a single hard slap that CRAAACKED Nyssa’s head to one side. “I’ve waited to have you to myself for a long time, sister. Don‘t think this will be over quickly.”
Mayes rose to a crouch, all the better to shovel the brunette onto her belly. From there she turned her back on Bloodwind, left foot planted carefully between the Arizonan’s stems. Helping herself to Nyssa’s left ankle, she wedged it into the pit of the brunette’s right knee, then claimed the right ankle and drew it in tight against her left calf to secure the gammy knot.
“Tacky bytch.” Nyssa planted her elbows and tried to tear free of the trap with no noticeable results. “Why don’t you steal someone else’s movEEERRRRHHHHHH!”
Tiffany grabbed another huge handful of hair and pulled until the former Lightweight Champion raised as far as her arms would allow. “I’ve stolen NOTHING, sister.” Mayes opined. “I simply appropriated a heathen tool and made it something far better.” With that she put her right foot across Bloodwind’s shoulders and stomped down to THWHONK the heathen’s forehead against the Pit floor courtesy a vile Curbstomp.
Left in a facedown stupor, Nyssa’s torment was far from over. Above her, Tiffany dropped backward into a flawless bridge, but rather than cup Bloodwind’s chin she slipped fore and index fingers into the Navajo’s mouth and puuuuuuulled her smile a few inches wider! (yt)
Tough to maintain under ideal conditions, Mayes made it all the harder with her fish-hooks and the oily surface that was her base for the humiliating Deathlock. Nevertheless, the Inquisitor was not without her zeal and she tugged back on the cheeks of the Navajo warrior, Bloodwind lifting her head to remove the pressure as best she could.
"Repent," Tiffany grunts, "and beg for forgiveness. It may be granted."
Instead, the determined Nyssa was able to grab Tiffany's wrists and carefully unhook Mayes' digits, Bloodwind's chest and face plopped to the Pit floor, layering another coating of baby oil on her already glistening features. She spat out some Johnson & Johnson from between her lips and, when Tiffany unknotted her legs, Nyssa slithered forward, trying to gain some space. Being the veteran of the Pit, Bloodwind and the oddsmakers thought she might stroll against the Schoolgirl turned Zealot, but Tiffany had dominated, turning the Pit into her altar of Eternal Midnight.
On her feet and stalking, Mayes dropprf a knee between the shoulderblades of Nyssa, the Native arching in agony around the impaling knee cap. Grabbing each of Bloodwind's wrists, the Inquisitor created a slippery but stable Surfboard, threatening to pull Nyssa's arms out at the sockets. "There's only so many times I can be merciful," Tiffany assured. A grimacing Nyssa, legs flailing as they pushed over the oily plastic with no purchase, surely had a hard time in seeing the mercy granted so far, her fight ebbing perceptibly. yt
“I don’t give a damn about your mercy.” Bloodwind grunted. “We both know the Church doesn’t even believe in the concept, let alone practice it. So stop wasting your breaNNNGGGHHH!”
Mayes slid her knee up to the nape of Nyssa’s neck and leaned in with all her weight, thus forcing the former champion’s face against the slick floor while putting even more pressure on her splayed shoulders. “Don’t you dare lecture me about what my sisters and I believe.” the blonde hissed. “You don’t have the physical strength or the spiritual wherewithal to challenge me on the subject.” Withdrawing her knee without warning, Tiffany rolled Bloodwind to a seat, then transformed her Surfboard to a Straightjacket by crisscrossing the heathen’s forearms against her own throat. Pleased by the surprised little gasp this new tactic earned, Mayes drew the Straightjacket that much tighter, earning a pained gurgle from the necktied Navajo.
Outside the Pit, Al Carpenter patted the top of the wall and asked, “What do you say, Nyssa? Need to call it?”
“Nuuuhhhhh…. NO!” Bloodwind rasped. “She’s not gonna finish me like HHUUURRGGGHHHH!”
The Inquisitor grrrrrrrrroound her knee and jostled the Straightjacket up and down, just mashing Nyssa’s mouth and nose with her traitorous forearms. But hellish though it was, Bloodwind did not give in. In fact she started to THUMP a heel against the Pit, a simple beat that was soon picked up by the Bloodwind Nation all across the arena. “Rally all the support you wish, sister.” Tiffany growled. “It will not save you from the jaws of Midni--”
Nyssa twisted hard right, the tenacious Arizonan fighting to one knee without actually escaping the Straightjacket. Emboldened by this shift, Nyssa started to nod along with the beat before she tried to rise.
Though perhaps Miranda's most sadistic true believer, there's a hint of concern in the blonde's eyes as her straightjacket grip began to slide from Nyssa's wrists as Blooodwind managed to turn forty-five then ninety degrees. Concern became disbelief when the Nubile Navajo spun on her slippery backside to face her Inquisitor, breaking the 'jacket' then thrusting her folded legs forward into Tiffany's chest. The heavy grunt of the Churchgoer was quickly followed with a backward somersault from the force of the impact, Mayes ending on her chest near Nyssa's greasy feet. Bloodwind butt-scooted forward over the slippery plastic while grabbing the blonde's idle left wrist. She tugged the arm toward her and, in turn drags Tiffany's head in the same direction until the blonde's chin is on Bloodwind's crotch. Tawny-skinned legs wrapped like dual serpents around the back of Mayes' braincase, Nyssa locking her ankles. She squeezed all she could force out of her flexing, glistening thighs and into Tiffany's temples, the gray matter within being pressurized, Mayes' face growing rosier by the second. Tiffany burbled and huffed, hands pressing to Nyssa's thighs, shoving pointlessly against the Scissors.
"You can ask," Nyssa informed, "but you'll get as much mercy as you give."
The Inquisitor did no such thing, instead she pushed forward into the brunette’s trap, trying to gain just enough ground to--THERE! Mayes wrapped her hand around Nyssa’s throat and squeezed, her nails digging in deep. Bloodwind growled, coughed, shook her head ‘no’. Still squeeeeeeeezing like she meant to take Tiffany’s head off, she wrapped a hand around the zealot’s thumb and PULLED until the blonde jerked her hand away to prevent more damage.
“Torture’s not so fun, is it sweetie?” Nyssa grabbed a handful of hair and tugged to emphasize the point. “You want to tap out or can I send you off into my own brand of darknOOOOWWW DAMMIT!”
Tiff brought her own claws into the fray, the true believer raaaaaaaaaking two sets of nails down bronzed thighs. Bloodwind squirmed beneath those wicked talons, but refused to abandon the Scissors, so she snatched hold of Mayes’s wrists and pulled her arms away from the suffocating Scissors. “Go to sleep, honey.” Nyssa grunted. “Unless you want to tap out before it gets that farRRRRRGGGGGHHH!”
Bloodwind gave the blonde back her wrists post-haste when Mayes dug the point of her chin into the Navajo’s crotch. Placing her palms flat against the Pit floor, Tiffany bicycled her legs until she’d made it to her knees. The Scissors were still quite snug around her neck but now she had the heathen stacked on her shoulders and much better leverage with which to effect her escape. Curling one hand into a fist, she pwak-pwak-PWAAAKED a few punches into the brunette’s belly, then GOUGED at her navel with the tip of her index finger. “Release me, Bloodwind.” she huffed. “Unless you’re ready to EERRRHHH NOOOOOO UUNNNNNGGGHH!”
Nyssa crunched up, buried both hands in Tiffany’s hair and pulled back as hard as she could to effectively flip the Churchgoer onto her back in a slow motion ‘Rana that came to a halt with the Navajo seated atop her opponent’s chest with those damnable Scissors transformed into an equally dangerous Schoolgirl Pin.
Having been turned head over heels by the clever little heathen, Tiffany looked up from between the bracketing folded legs of the Nubile Navajo, Bloodwind's shins pressing down on the blonde's wriggling biceps. "Time to pray?" Nyssa asked with a predatory smirk. She banged her knees inward, thumping the inside of the joints against Mayes' temples, then scooted her crotch up to Tiffany's chin.
Sensing an unflattering end, the Inquisitor bucked with as much strength as she could muster though it seems she finds dominating most of the match could be nearly as draining as taking the punishment and what's more the super-fit Native has gas to burn in the Midnight Oil. The blonde's legs pushed toward the rafters, gently bucking Bloodwind until Nyssa puts a stop to it, reaching back and hooking the inside of her right elbow in the pit of the Churchgoer's left knee then doing likewise on the opposite side, trussing Mayes in a Matchbook.
All the blonde could do is wriggle and twist, hoping the oil would open a door to an escape, but Nyssa's Pit game was strong and her experience useful. She nuzzled her undercarriage to Tiffany's bitten lower lip, bringing the lightly tanned legs of the Inquisitor with her, Tiffany stacked even more vertically than before.
"Time to tap, schoolgirl," Nyssa affirmed, using the moniker from Mayes' past 'life' to tweak her.
“Never.” Mayes growled, her voice given the tiniest bit of echo thanks to Bloodwind’s pressing thighs. She twisted and fought to escape the heathen’s grasp, alas Nyssa’s coils didn’t so much as tremble. Refusing to give into frustration, the Inquisitor snarled, “Don’t think this is over, sister. I promise you any pleasure derived from this position is strictly pyrrhiCMMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHH!”
The Nubile Navajo inched up that last little bit, sealing her blonde off from the nose on down. Far more exhausted than her words seemed to indicate, Bloodwind leaaaaaaaaned forward until her forehead was touching the slippery blue floor. “Nighty-night, Tiff.” the brunette muttered. “Hope you like naptime in MY darkness!”
Ankles wrenched over her head by the strain of Bloodwind’s Matchbook, Tiffany could only squirm and buck, the blonde burning through a dangerous amount of oxygen in a final attempt to escape the diaphragm-crushing trap. In the end it remained an attempt and nothing more, Mayes slowly but surely fading until the once incessant wriggling of her rump was nothing more than the occasional dull twitch.
Eventually that faded too.
Shortly thereafter Nyssa looked up, her eyes seeking Al Carpenter. “She’s out, Al. Count her down.”
The ref flattened one hand and slapped the inner wall of the pit. “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE!”
The bell CLANGED and Nyssa released the Matchbook so she could slop over onto her back next to the slumbering zealot. Eventually she raised an arm and pumped it twice, much to the delight of the crowd. “I’m not a heathen and I’m sure as hell not your sister.” she wheezed to Tiffany. “But if you’ve gotta call me anything, Baroness to Be has a nice ring to it.”
********
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
The match was scheduled for a thirty minute time limit and usually that was fine, but the discreet little timer below the ‘tron said 06:58 and the FAWNatics started to worry about the dreaded ’time limit draw’. As for the women in the Pit, they were far too preoccupied to fetter themselves with such petty concerns, after all, there was a title on the line. Stretched out on her left side, Alexis Suguitan tightened her coil and was rewarded with a soft, breathy groan from her adversary. “Give it up, bytch.” she huffed. “Otherwise I’ll squeeze you out and take those briefs for MMMMMPPPHH!”
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
Lenore Lemarchand adjusted her own grip, twisting Alexis’s face back into the gleaming confines of her modest décolletage. Doing her best to flatten the Filipino Phenom’s nose against her sternum, Lenore slung a leg over Suguitan’s hip, hoping to keep her mired in place. “Title’s mine and the briefs stay with me, Lexie.” she grunted. “But I’m happy to accept yours.”
Alexis responded with muffled grunts, trying to pull her features free of the Baroness' bosom. The bytch had a hell of a grip on her soaked ebon mop and she hated to give up her Scissors, but breathing regularly was becoming extremely important and her golden-brown legs loosened, giving her more ability to create some slack while taking away the pressure on the Raven. The Filipino Phenom had taken a break from the FAWN wars after being moved by Bethany to mid-card status and beating Lenore in her Pit would mark the beginning of Act Three. She shoved both palms into Lenore's shoulders and was able to break loose. She slide back a few feet and clambered to her haunches, drawing in deep breaths and wondering why Lemarchand seemed fresh as a daisy, if a very oily one. "You had a good run, but I'm too big and too bad. Ask Portia."
Lenore mirrored Alexis’s position, took a moment to tuck some hair behind her ears. “Believe me, I’ve tried tracking your old boss down. But that ass kicking you doled out must’ve made a lasting impression because Baby is WAY off the grid. Doesn’t mean you’re good enough to take me down, though. Maybe whipping your ass will finally get her attention.”
Alexis snorted and came forward when Lemarchand beckoned, the pair of brunettes meeting in the middle with an oily ‘smeck!’ Working quickly to get her arms around Alexis’s waist, Lenore squeezed tight and wrenched to one side, trying to bring her challenger back to the floor.
While Lenore went low, Alexis started to wrap her arms around the Raven's noggin, hoping to pull her into a slippery Side Headlock where she could whip her foe to the slick plastic that covered the Pit. But Lenore secured her grip prior. She cinched the Hug tight, alabaster biceps glistening, drawing a throaty gasp from Alexis with the Hug and, when Lemarchand drove to the Filipino's left, Sugutian's shoulder bounced into the oily padding. Trying to regain a base before her foe could consolidate, Alexis tried to sneak her arms inside those of the Raven and break the coil. She succeeded in getting inside but then found out why when Lenore cinched tight again, her limbs now stuck within the embrace. The arms allowed for a little more room to draw in breath, but aside from having her soles slipping over the oily Pit, Alexis struggled under lockdown.
The position was quite awkward, but Lenore was nothing if not patient and she slowly buy surely managed to work one leg over Suguitan’s torso. Knees planted close to Alexis’s hips, Lenore pressed her chin into the hollow of her foe’s shoulder and worked the Hug up until it was snugged just beneath the other brunette’s armpits.
Grunting as she was forced to carry the Baroness’s weight, Alexis continued to work her own Hug, occasionally halving her grip so she could pound at Lemarchand’s ribs or slap at her slick glutes. “Get off me!” she snapped after an especially hard squeeze from above.
Lenore shook her head ‘no’ and snuggled in a little closer. “You want me to let go? Break my grip.” she murmured in the Penthouse Panther’s ear. “Or you can cede the Pit to me.” She pressed down and worked her torso from side to side, adding a little chest to chest scrub for Alexis’s continued displeasure.
Her size made useless by Lenore's slick maneuvering of her frame; the heat from the lights, percolating oil, the Raven's warm breath on her cheeks and the tight torso to torso presence of her foe made Alexis feel a bit faint. Never dreaming the battle would last so long, Suguitan could feel her energy waning with each humiliating swipe across her body. Alexis abruptly gave up on any embrace of her own and moved her hands to Lemarchand's hips, trying to barrel roll her ivory-skinned tormentor. It was a bold move but one she needed to make. Her heart flew as the sweep to her left got the duo rolling and she's on top, but it's only for a split-second as the Oil Baroness had the experience to predict the gambit and simply kept the roll going to a full 360, ending on top of Suguitan once more, Alexis even more gassed than before.
Ending her hug without so much as a word, Lenore grabbed hold of Alexis’s wrists and pinned her arms high overhead. In the same breath she twined her feet under Suguitan’s ankles and stretched them into a wide, unpleasant ‘V’.
Full Body Pin, Lenore Lemarchand to Alexis Suguitan.
Forcing the CEO’s wrists together in a tight bundle, the Raven stretched the Grapevine a little wider, then raised her hips and smacked them into Alexis’s tummy. She repeated the tactic several more times, then channeled her inner Pandora by pressing her breasts against the struggling battler’s oil-slicked features. “You may be a panther in the penthouse, but you’re a kitten in the oil.” Lenore was all smiles with her one cheek pressed against he crown of Suguitan’s skull. “Do you want to admit it out loud or are you gonna be a brat and make the techs carry you out of here?”
Feeling drained and dominated, the Raven pancaking her below in a steady drumbeat of pelvic thrusts, forcing more out of her than she ever expected Lemarchand could, the Filipino tried to wrestle her arms free. Despite the slick goo, she couldn’t break her wrists loose from within Lemarchand's palms. But without Lenore's arms available to lock her head in place, the Raven's smother was spotty, Alexis able to twist her face to the side and get some air. The oily alabaster of the Baroness again lifted off a few inches and she THWHACKED her bikini-clad bod into that of the woman who ended a legend's career and did so with impunity.
"Don't think you can ride out five more minutes and get the draw. You don't want to know what I can do to you over five minutes."
The dripping arrogance from the Raven provided a burst of energy. Alexis tried to get her legs free but the grapevines was too f*cking snug and with the lower limbs widened, there's no way to buck Lenore off. Eventually the Panther was able to free one hand. She buried it into Lenore's dark, matted mane and tried to peel at least part of the Courtier away from her.
Jaw set as Suguitan tugged at her hair, Lenore thrust her hips down and streeeeeetched the other brunette’s gleaming stems a little wider. “Getting catty, are we ‘Lexie?” she growled. “I can do that too.”
Enduring the hand in her hair to keep Alexis’s other hand pinned to the floor, Lemarchand curled her unoccupied hand into a talon and helped herself to a greedy grip on the challenger’s left breast. The oil-soaked lycra provided no protection whatsoever, as evidenced by Suguitan’s moan of pain when the Raven squeezed hard. “Amara wore gold against me too.” Lenore huffed. “Didn’t work for her. Won’t work for WHOOANNNNGGGHH!”
Alexis finally wrenched her other hand loose of Lemarchand’s grip and she celebrated with a hard punch to the ribs. Unwilling to grant any level of skirmish to the domineering Baroness, Suguitan matched Lenore’s chest grip with one of her own, the Penthouse Panther happily reminding Lemarchand’s nipples what she could do with her claws. “You can’t hang with me, skinny.” she taunted. “Soon as I get my claws hooked in I’ll tear you apart!”
Having terrorized Lenore early with these tactics, bringing the penthouse to the pit, Alexis went all in again, getting back to her bread and butter. Lemarchand steered the fight away for long stretches and was all the better for it, but now the trip home would end her run as Oil Baronness in the cattiest way possible.
The golden-brown Phenom poured it on with her talons, both of Lenore's gurls feeling the wrath of the Panther and as a wincing Lemarchand was distracted by the plucking and tweasing, Alexis trying to turn Lenore to her back and switch positions. She threw her mass to the left and forced the Raven to nearly ninety degrees. The effort and failure forced a loud sigh out of the Filipino but Lenore was surely at a tipping point. Alexis grunted loudly, putting everything she has left and couldn’t get the Raven to even forty-five degrees, Lenore's earlier handiwork apparently having drained her enough to keep Suguitan from being able to upend her as was Lemarchand's own stinging grip. If she could just get out of the Grapevine that let Lenore kept her unbreakable base. Alexis loosened her pincer from one nub and reached around to send a rake down the glistening ivory back of her foe to convince her.
Lenore winced as Suguitan scored her back and made the exotique pay for it with another hard-hearted squeeze. Currently losing the claw battle two to one, Lenore flattened her free hand into a paddle and slapped Alexis’s cheek no less than half a dozen times!
Suguitan couldn’t block with both hands occupied, so she bore down that much harder and raaaaaaaaaaaaked the Baroness’s back a second time. In the same breath she tried to wrest her legs free of Lemarchand’s control, but the other brunette continued to impose her will on the war down below. She was readying for a third run down the Raven’s back when Lenore stopped slapping and mashed the Phenom’s cheeks together in a humiliating fish face. “That all you got, ‘Lexie? No wonder you haven’t found a way out of VanBuren’s shadOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!”
Alexis snatched hold of those championship briefs and gave them a monstrous tug that served as excellent therapy AND finally flopped the Courtier onto her back! Baring her teeth in a vicious grin as she scrambled into the mount, Alexis sneered, “All right, bytch. Time to pluck your feathers.”
Alexis hurriedly slipped her lower limbs free of the Grapevine and folded them underneath her as she moved to a straddle of Lenore's waist, a 'chewing' grip into Lemarchand's left bosom joined by a right palm clenching around Lenore's throat. "Take down the Baroness," Alexis huffed as Lenore's face turned a glowing pink, her windpipe being shut by the catty Filipino. "And my stock goes way the hell up!" Suguitan, seeing the timer reach the two-minute warning, scooted up Lenore's frame, placing her golden-brown booty on the Raven's chest. With her clawing hand freed to do further damage, she sank it into the Courtier's scalp to hold Lenore's head in place and released her choking right-handed grasp to pull that arm back and deliver a time-saving forearm shiver to Lenore's jaw that could put her out on the spot.
The wind-up was definitely intimidating, but it also gave Lemarchand enough time to plant her feet against the floor of the pit. Bridging up the instant Alexis brought the hammer down, she managed to send the Panther’s shot into the floor instead of her mouth. Of course the evasion only wedged her chin that much deeper into the fork of Alexis’s crotch and Suguitan wasn’t about to be denied. Clamping her thighs tight against the Courtier’s cheeks, Alexis maintained the hair-pull as she twisted her other hand to one side so she could cover the Baroness’s mouth with her palm. Pinching the other brunette’s nostrils between thumb and forefinger, Suguitan taunted, “You want to tap out, bytch? C’mon, I want to see if you have the guts to peel off that title and hand it to NNNGGGGHHHH!”
Lenore popped her hips and jammed both knees into Alexis’s lower back. Then she hooked her legs around the challenger’s waist and squeeeeeeeeeezed as hard as she could in hopes of tumbling the Panther off her scratching post.
Seeing concern in Lenore's dark eyes as she cut off the bytch's air supply. Alexis was laying down the ground rules for how the match would end when the Raven's knees JAMMED into her back. Lenore slipped the lower portion of her stems around the glistening midriff of the Panther and locked her ankles in front, thumping her heels into Alexis' navel for good measure. Lexie went bug-eyed from the unexpected invasion. Her hands reflexively moved away from her smother to try and unhook Lenore's Scissors, but before she could manage, the Black Courtier forced her sinewy, ivory stems forward. Alexis tried to fight the power in the gams, her arms pinwheeling to stay mounted, but she tumbled over, ending on her back, legs airborne and quickly collected by the hooking guns of the Raven.
As positions and fortunes were radically changed the bell CLANGED to bring the match to an end. But Lenore, showing she'd considered this possibility, immediately demanded another five minutes. The ref agreed to the extension if Alexis made it unanimous. Giving up Suguitan's legs for a moment, Lenore's right hand covered Alexis' mouth, the mumbling 'NMMMMPPHHH' never acknowledged. Lenore sank the left hand into Alexis' oily mop and nodded the Filipino's head for her. Satisfied, the zebra put five minutes back on the board, the crowd roaring its approval.
Granted reprieve from the tyranny of the clock, Lenore used her grip on Alexis’s hair to yank her head off the floor, then BWUMP it back down. Now the bottom of the Oil Pit had infinitely more give than that of a standard ring, but it still but it still put a glassy sheen in the Phenom’s dark eyes. She followed with a second bounce, then let loose of Suguitan’s locks to paintbrush her cheeks forehand and backhand.
“Never had to go into overtime before.” Lemarchand noted as she slid through the Filipino’s splayed stems. “An impressive effort, not that it’s going to do you much good.”
“Bytch!” Alexis moaned as she found her face framed by Lenore’s thighs, “I never agreed to anything!”
“Oh, do you want to submit?” the Raven teased. “Say it loud enough for the ref to hear you, please!”
“Screw you! Alexis whipped her legs up but Lemarchand was ready for just such a reaction and deftly hooked her behind the knees. With the Panther knotted up tight, Lenore leaaaaaaaaaaned forward until her forehead touched the mat and Alexis’s bronzed booty was pointed at the rafters. Knees spread wide, Lemarchand ground her crotch against the challenger’s muzzle and teased, “Ready to give?”
Alexis mumbled something unintelligible, but her buns swung from side to side in a sign Lenore interpreted as ‘no’. Satisfied, she held the Matchbook for several more seconds, then tossed Suguitan’s legs aside and straightened up. Just like that she turned around set her glutes on the point of ‘Lexie’s chin, forcing her to look up at the stylized oil derrick and ‘BARRONESS’ on Lenore’s championship togs. “Portia showed you this a few times, right?” she asked. “Would you tell me how mine compares?” She pushed up and slid back, engulfing Suguitan’s nose a heartbeat before she crooked her left hand into a spade and affixed it to the swath of defenseless golden lycra armoring her rival’s undercarriage!
VanBuren's pilfered 911 firmly affixed, Alexis howled in agony but the sound was mostly swallowed by Lenore's domineering cheeks. Never had Portia managed to put Lexie in the ultimate position of dominance and never had Baby been so foolish as to give advice on how to get out of it. So the Panther's hands pressed against Lenore's hips as ineffectively as many had against Portia‘s. She shoved for all she had remaining but the effort gains barely a budge. With Lemarchand expertly ripping into her kitty in addition to smothering her into semiconscious oblivion, Alexis made the only choice she feels available to her. She uncurled her bared talons and instead of raking the Raven's thighs, she frantically slapped them, signaling her surrender as best she can, the muffled pleas from below not registering to anyone but Lenore's eardrums and undercarriage.
"Oh. Didn't you know?" Lenore asked as she began to grrrrrrrrrind her crotch against Alexis’s face. "No submissions in overtime. Besides you made me work extra and I have to show the next girl what running out the clock will mean for her chances.”
Alexis moaned and kept on tapping, the tenor of her, ahem, vibrations, picking up a new urgency as Lemarchand began sweeping her center over the cartography of Suguitan’s defenseless features. In search of a most emphatic exclamation point, Lenore suddenly hooked her fingers into claws and raaaaaaaaaaaked Suguitan from navel to rack. Eyes lighting on Alexis’s sodden, slippery briefs, Lenore spread her opponent’s thighs wide, then made Suguitan sob against her buns with a white knuckle pincer grip administered to her foe’s defenseless camel toe.
Eventually the high pitched keen died away to the softest of burbles, Suguitan settling out into a used up starfish. One last pinch drew no response from the slumbering brunette, so Lemarchand treated her to a penthouse worthy nipple twist just to be sure. Barely a whimper against her briefs, so she looked to the ref and said, “Make it official, please.” The official swatted the wall of the Pit and Lenore accompanied his count with sharp tugs on her prey’s nubs.
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVE!
Showing the camera a satisfied smile once she was announced the victrix, Lenore finished her work on those defenseless juggs with a possessive little squeeze. “You’ve taken me further than anyone before you.” Lemarchand said to the slumbering Panther. “That should be enough to spare you now, but the fact of the matter is, I don’t like you. And I know that if our positions were reversed you’d make me play scratching post until the refs pulled you off. So I’m going to add your bottoms to all the others.” She leaned forward, hooked her thumbs into the hips of Suguitan’s bottoms and sloooooooooowly peeled them down the other brunette’s legs.
Rising with her trophy, the Oil Baroness held it overhead, turning this way and that to show off that glittery $ to the whole arena. Eventually she put one foot on Suguitan’s cheek and turned her head to one side, Lemarchand displaying her foe’s face and togs in a single domineering pose. Then she tucked those purloined briefs against her own hip so she could hoist the Raven sigil to the rafters until the ref told her they were out of time almost thirty seconds later.