Post by walkindude on May 11, 2019 12:04:31 GMT
Hello friends,
We've got a quartet of oily highlights for this month's report, including a pairing of two newcomers making their first appearance in the Pit.
Enjoy!
~RF
Apologies to anyone who looked at this in the first 20 minutes and found nothing but broken links. Imgur tried to do me dirty, but it's all good now.
********
Those with a predilection for believing Latinas ruled the Pit couldn't have been unhappy to see the next pairing scheduled and the battle thus far did not disappoint. Luisa Campos, Pearls to Marisol Ayala's Diamonds had taken to the oil in January. She left a greasy victor, dispatching a blonde who is now a #1 tag contender in her wake. If the Brazilian figured to have an easier time of it with a bite-sized Mexican up from The Jungle she clearly had learned differently.
LUISA CAMPOS:
SOSHANA SOTO:
After a cup of coffee in the bigs, Soshana Soto made a name and a difference in Bangor, becoming a beloved face from South of the Border near the Northern one. The spicy but never salty Latina was proving too fast and yes slippery for Pearls to dominate. In fact, after a dozen minutes, it's Luisa who's flat on her back in a single file. Despite the treacherous footing on the baby oil-drenched plastic, the diminutive Lil So-So stands next to her huffing foe, back to Campos. She back-flipped into a Moonsault CRUSHING Luisa under the splash, tummies THWACKING together in the Johnson & Johnson. Luisa's dark eyes bulged as she jackknifed under the Energizer Bunny from La Paz. Above, in the front row of the stands, another recent refugee from The Jungle, her Cuban sister Sofia Garcia led the cheers along with a more familiar face, Soledad Sanchez, the Latina blood thick in the air and seemingly all in support of Lil So-So.
Satisfied by the sound and feel of the Moonsault, Soto popped to her feet, took a few steps back and rushed forward, the diminutive ingénue clearly not worried about the oil interfering with her-- Soshana hopped up and tumbled forward in a low-flying Somersault Senton that THUMPED every bit of her weight against Campos’ already throbbing midsection!
On her feet almost immediately thereafter, Lil’ So-So whipped around on one heel, leapt into the air and delivered a THIRD gut-crushing to Luisa’s tummy! “What’s wrong babe, not feeling so tuff when you can’t tag out?” Soto’s tone was weary but satisfied as she straddled the Brazilian’s hips.
“Juuuuhhhh… just shut your mouth, beeyotch.” Campos moaned. “Don’t make me tell you twicOOOHHHMMMPPPHHH!”
Soshana laced her hands behind Luisa’s head and hauled her to a protesting seat. What looked like a Guillotine Choke in the beginning turned out a little more…’spirited’ let us say, when Soto cinched her arms around the other brunette’s noggin and drew her down into a deep Front Sleeper! Furious over such an indignity, Luisa immediately reached for those constraining arms only to have her attention diverted by the snug Scissors Soshana wrapped around her waist!
“Not going anywhere, baby!” Soto giggled. “Actually, that’s not true. You’re going down!”
Bearing down on both holds, Soshana leaned left and laid out on her side to bring both brunettes down into the warm, slippery oil. Delighted to see the arrogant tag specialist suffering in such a predicament, the FAWNatics started in with a ‘TAP!’ chant loud enough to reach through the fog rapidly filling Campos’ head.
With the thought of losing to a FAWN and Pit newbie effectively giving her what might be one last shot of adrenaline, Luisa smecked fist after fist into Lil So-So's ribs. Desperate to break the hold of someone she'd clearly underestimated, Campos traded her fists in for her elbows and the bony points prove quite distracting to Soto. The Mexican groaned softly with each impact, her face twisting in pain. Knowing if she could just hold on, Pearls would be hers, but the increasing ache finally convinced Soshana to release and roll away from the Rio native.
Lil So-So rubbed at the reddened blotches on her rib cage, snorting in anger. "Big mistake, chica," she grunted. Seeing Luisa up her knees and generously offering her six o'clock, So-So surged toward her target, leaping from a few feet out. Her knees crashed into Luisa's shoulderblades and she rode the Brazilian down to a modified Curbstomp of sorts, or inverted Thesz Press.
Whatever you preferred, Luisa's face was buried in the greasy blue plastic with Mexican Fire on her haunches atop Campos, shins on biceps. "You should have tapped. Now you'll be spitting out baby oil for days." The feisty Lil So-So sought to make sure, swiping Campos' features into a little pool collecting a few inches to the left of Luisa's nose.
Luisa squealed in protest, the usually elegant battler unable to believe that this little trollop was treating HER so shabbily. Fighting this growing panic as best she could, ‘Pearls’ planted her hands against the slippery blue floor and puuuuuuushed up far enough to get her face outta scrubbin’ range. “Disgusting tramp!” she barked. “I’m going to savor tearing you apaOOOOFFFFHHHH!”
Soshana bounced to her feet and immediately dropped into a deep squat that THUMPED her buns against the small of Campos’ back! “You just don’t learn, do you sweetie?” Soto teased. “Girls spitting oil usually shouldn’t talk that trash!” Luisa had no response for this, which was just how Lil So-So wanted it. Twisting around in a half circle, the recent Jungle graduate leaned forward, collected Campos’ ankles in both hands and bent her legs backward so she could tuck opposing shins beneath her armpits.
Hands clasped tight to keep the Boston Crab in place, Soshana thum-thum-thumped her butt against Luisa’s lower back before she slid her perch north by several inches. “Sitting on your shoulders now, honey!” Soto bopped in place to emphasize the point. “If I scoot back anymore I’ll be touching your toes to your shoulders!”
Campos' glistening face screwed up in frustration and agony, her right hand hovering over the Pit floor, her left hand buried in her matted raven locks, yanking at her ebony mane to spread the pain. "You can't...can't!"
"I can't?" Soshana huffed, shimmying farther toward the Brazilian's braincase and squatting lower, threatening to snap Luisa's spinal column with the Crab. "It's simple. Quit and you can scurry back under the apron of Diamonds."
A furious shriek emanated from Pearls. She pushed up on her palms, ducked and tucked her head and somersaulted out of immediate trouble, Soto's greasy soles working against her to keep the submission in place. She staggered in a backpedal over the splayed Campos. Not wanting the nasty Brazilian on her feet, evening the odds, Lil So-So charges her foe, only for Luisa to shoot a foot up from her reclined position, driving it into the red, white and green trunks of the diminutive Latina.
Kitty crunched, Soto was fozen, rising to tiptoes as the crowd MOANED in sympathy. She mewled in pain, hands buried between her thighs. "How? she squeaked.
"Could I?" Luisa completed. "Because I'm elite and you're a fluffy lil mascot." Campos ground her foot in deep, Soshana doubling over farther, her eyes welling. "And now you're mine." Luisa pushed wearily to her feet and rocked Lil So-So to her back with a vicious European Uppercut that left Soto gazing blankly up at Campos, palms still tight to her crotch, likely wondering what went wrong. yt
Luisa on the other hand was all smiles, her ahem ‘pearly whites’ on obvious display as she took the time to stomp n’ stroll all around the fallen brunette. “Should’ve finished me when you had the chance, trash heap.” Campos sniffed. “Now I’m going to show these idiots what happens to obnoxious little urchins that try to embarrass me.”
“Nuuuuhhh… no try about it, brat.” Soto groaned. “It wasn’t just the strain that made you reHEY! DON’T YOU NNNNNGGGHHH!”
Luisa snatched the other brunette’s ankles, stretched her legs wide and promptly dropped to her knees to THUMP a Headbutt into the newcomer’s trunks! The crowd didn’t like it one bit, which was probably why Campos took such great joy in collecting her foe’s shins under her arms. Taking a moment to glance around the Pit, Luisa gauged distances before taking a few steps back. Thus satisfied with the arrangement, she rocked back on her heels and laid out flat, a move that peeled Lil So-So out of the oil just long enough to THWHAP her chest and tummy-first against the wall of the Pit!
Stretched out almost directly beneath the stunned tyro, Luisa drew her knees up high and jostled Soto’s captured stems until she tumbled back and-- “AAAAAAWWWW GAAAAAAAWWWWWD!” Soshana wailed right along with the FAWNatics because she landed directly atop the Brazilian’s posted knees.
“Oooohhh, what’s the matter? Did you hurt your fragile little back?” Luisa bobbled her knees up and down to exacerbate the cruel arch in her prey’s spine. “Then give up if you can’t handle it, bytch!”
From above, Sofia and Soledad shouted at Soto to hang on, but the agonizing arch was terrifying to observe let alone survive and within seconds Lil So-So was howling in pain, her arms flailing. She's able to reach Luisa's tawny thighs and scrapes at the muscular stems, but Campos only responded by pulling her knees further toward her chest. The bony joints pushed farther into the small of Soshana's spine and her back increases its awful arch.
The crowd and her cohorts chanted ‘PLEASE...DON'T...TAP!’ and Lil So-So refused the Brazilian's demand. She tried to use her greased skin to wriggle out of the backbreaking predicament, but it's Luisa that was able to rotate from underneath. Corralling both of Soto's weakened legs with one wrapping right arm, the Brazilian pivoted ninety degrees so her knees were perpendicular to the diminutive Latina's spinal column. Luisa sealed the deal when she circled her left arm around Soshana's throat. The infuriated crowd let loose with a torrent of boos as Campos pilfered a FAWN legend's iconic Bridge and sent Lil So-So into a different, more extreme version of her previous torture.
The Mexican beauty sobbed as London's now Luisa's Bridge threatened to dislodge several vertebrae. After a dozen seconds, Soto could take no more, waving wildly in the air with one arm, tapping Campos' thigh with the hand of the other as she screamed her surrender.
Luisa cranked down on both ends of her purloined Bridge until the bell sounded half a dozen times and even then she made a point to buck Soto clear instead of simply releasing her grip. Making a show of her post-match ablutions, Campos spun to one knee, flicked her hair behind her ears and treated her tush to a single saucy swat. These movements were measured, almost languid, but there was nothing languid in the ferocious way she grabbed Soshana’s ankles and draaaaaaaaaaagged her into the center of the Pit!
“I TOLD YOU YOU’D PAY!” Campos snarled after she’d planted a knee in the small of Soto’s anguished back. “And I don’t mean to make you wait, slut.”
Fingers crooked into claws, she raked Lil So-So’s back half a dozen times, then ‘snapped’ the knot on her bikini top and tore it loose with a gaudy flourish. Some scattered cheers were quickly replaced with full-fledged outrage when Luisa slipped the shorn top into Soshana’s mouth and wrenched her head back in a vicious, makeshift bridle!
“C’mon loser, gimme a pony-ride!” Campos transferred her weapon to one hand so she could SPANK Soto’s squirming glutes. “Don’t make me tell you twice, princess. I absolutely HATE to repeat my--”
Stereo ‘sploots’ on the other side of the pit drew Luisa’s attention away from her prey and just like that the Brazilian Bombshell was on her feet and running for cover to escape the arrival of Sofia and Soledad. Possessed of a heretofore untapped well of agility, Campos leapt, caught the top of the Pit wall and pulllllled herself up over the edge in all of maybe two seconds.
“Cheap trash!” Pearls shouted down at the intruding brunettes. “How dare you deny me my rightful prize!”
Crouched beside Soshana and Sofia, Soledad rose to her full height and stretched her arms wide. “You want it, Luisa? Come and get it.”
Luisa DID think about it, but in the end decided she’d deal with these meddlers in her own time. Skewering Sanchez with a particularly poisonous glare, she stormed away from the Pit, thus leaving the fresher brunettes to tend to their fallen friend.
********
SAVAGE:
MOLLY O’CANNON:
The two oil debutantes meet in the center of the pit, Savage wearing a skimpy tiger-print bikini, while Molly has forgone her usual pirate-themed attire, settling instead on an equally skimpy black bikini with skull on each of her overflowing cups, and a Jolly Roger emblazoned on her rear. The busty fighters eye each other up and down, mere inches from each other and smirking appreciatively. Indeed, this face off makes for a captivating image, one that the photographers for Gladiatrix don’t pass up.
Savage licks her lips thoughtfully, “Hmmm...So this is your first time in the Oil Pit, too, huh?” she purrs, taking a step towards her opponent.
“Nay, lass,” Molly answers with a good hearted chuckle, matching Savage’s movements with a step forward of her own, “I’ve not set foot in these waters in FAWN, ‘tis true. But I be not a stranger to this environ.” The two women chest up to each other, pressing their prodigious bosoms against each other, grinning at each other like Cheshire cats as they continue to size each other up.
“So,” Savage coos, looking like she’d like to jump Molly’s bones as much as fight her, “the way I see it...we can either have some fun - trying to win, of course, I ain’t stepping aside for you - and give these fine people a show.” she gestures to the rowdy, catcalling FAWNatics, chomping at the bit to see these buxom beauties go at it, “Or, it can be a knock-down, drag-out from jump street. And I don’t know about you, but…” she flicks a finger at the teeny string at Molly’s hip, “I’d sure like to keep things as civil as possible. But it’s your call, Treasure Chest...how nasty d’ya wanna get?”
“Hmmm…” Molly ponders the blonde’s words, and responds with a quick squeeze of Savage’s rear, “Lookin’ the way ye do, landlubber, I’d say we’re of the same mind. A friendly competition it is, then! But I don’t intend to just hand me bounty over to ye so easily either, lassie! I’ll keep it as…”fun,” as ye put it...as you do.” She winks at the bigger girl, then snakes her arms around Savage’s waist. The Blonde Bomber nods and follows suit, pushing their slick, glistening breasts even closer together. “A test of strength to begin with, then, me sweetie!”
“Whenever you’re ready, darlin’!” And with that, the two women tighten their grips on each other in a mutual bearhug. The grapplers grunt and groan as they struggle against one another, the oil making a lasting grip exceedingly difficult. Slowly, Savage makes progress, pushing the smaller redhead back inch by inch, until her back is against the wall of the Pit. There’s no corner or rope break in an Oil Pit match, so no five-count is forthcoming. Nevertheless, the oil-slick combatants slowly unwrap themselves from one another, and Savage takes a step back, giving Molly a playful tap on the chest with both hands, perhaps a little lower than is customary on the chest. Still, Molly doesn’t seem to mind, smirking at her opponent and giving her chest a little shimmy to make them jiggle some more as the crowd applauds both the show of sportsmanship and the display of flesh.
“That’s some muscle you got there, lass.” she compliments her friendly (at least for now) adversary, “It takes a mighty woman to push ol’ Molly around like that!”
Savage dips her head respectfully to Molly, “Living on the streets for four years forced me to get strong real quick! You’re no slouch, yourself! I’ve gotta say, after dealing with those Halfmoon bitches, it’s nice to be staring across at someone that ain’t out for my blood!”
“Aye,” Molly nods in agreement as she shakes her limbs out and steps back out from the wall, “I’d rather not have things turn ugly between us! I’d much prefer something...sweeter...from ye.” She winks at her.
“Glad we’re on the same page where that’s concerned,” she smiles and winks back, taking another step back to let Molly have some space to gather herself. “Your move, Cap’n,” she grins, taking a grappler’s stance. Molly nods and holds her hands out in front of her as the women tentatively entangle their fingers together. Once both of their hands are locked together, the two of them throw themselves at one another, their slick bodies colliding with a thud as the grunt and struggle against one another in a Greco-Roman knuckle lock, trying to get a leverage advantage against one another. Once more, while Molly is no pushover, Savage’s height and strength advantage make the difference, as she slowly is able to bend the Dread Pirate backwards into a forced bridge. Molly’s grunts get louder as she struggles to power out of the bridge, only for those grunts turn into cries when Savage, knuckles still locked with hers, lifts herself off the slippery floor, bringing her knees down onto Molly’s taut tummy. Although the initial impact and added weight certainly hurts, Molly’s experience allows her to use Savage’s momentum to help her wriggle free, using their slickness to slide away from the statuesque blonde who slips and tumbles with a splash to the floor. Molly capitalizes on her opponent’s loss of balance, quickly crawling over to Savage and snaking her arms around her waist from behind. In an impressive show of strength in her own right, she lifts the bigger girl off the wet floor, and slams her back into the oil with another splash, about a hundred-eighty degrees from where she was.
“Yer a naughty one, aren’t ye?” she purrs into Savage’s ear, giving her earlobe a little lick. She then rides the bigger girl, tenaciously hanging on as she tries to shake her loose. “I like it, I do...But bad girls…” she slides up Savage’s back, spinning herself so she’s facing her feet end, “...need discipline! I’ve not me cat with me, sweetheart, but ye’ll feel the rope’s end all the same!” And with that, the busty buccaneer begins to slap out a sea shanty on Savage’s firm backside. The crowd cheers as Molly’s makeshift bongos jiggle and ripple with each smack. For her part, Savage squeals with each spank, and she kicks her legs, but doesn’t seem to be doing much else to try and free herself. Her fun done after close to a dozen playful swats, Molly slides off the Blonde Bomber, leaving her to rub her reddened cheeks, her lewd smile betraying her thoughts. However, she doesn’t notice the redhead backing into her until it’s too late, and thus, as Molly forces her head up by her flaxen locks, Savage is forced to Swab the Deck.
SWAB THE DECK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfDl9CQJn5s
After a few passes of her backside into Savage’s face, Molly lets up before she loses her balance in the oil, maintaining her grip on her opponent’s hair. She drags Savage up to her feet, and lifts her up. She then brings her down, crotch-first, on her knee with a back-rattling Shiver Me Timbers. The statuesque blonde staggers back, clutching her lower back, only to eat a stiff Yardarm that sends her splashing into the oil on her back.
SHIVER ME TIMBERS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7edAGvHvXTw
YARDARM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5FncrokitI
Savage groans as she tries to shake the cobwebs. THAT was not so fun, she thought as she shook her head. Her eyes then widen as she sees a pair of black-clad boobs lowering themselves down over her face, as Molly introduces her to her Treasure Chest.
TREASURE CHEST:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rTq2XPUzjno&t=3s
“Shhhh! Sh! Sh! Sh!” Molly shushes her victim as she plants a kiss on the top of her head, continuing to smother the blonde. “This has been fun, me matey! But I told ye from the start I’d not just let you have yer way with me! ‘Tis time for you to take a caulk!” Savage flails and slaps at Molly’s back and rear, to no avail. “Come now, lassie,” she entreats as the slaps begin to lose their steam, “let’s see those deadlights go dim, me lovely, then we can go splice the mainbrace together and have some fun!” she coos with delight, feeling Savage’s mouth against her bosom, crying out muffled screams of panic. Then, suddenly, the Blonde Bomber locks her hands around Molly’s lower back, the strength of the hold seeming to suggest she was getting her second wind. With a (muffled, again) roar of determination, Savage rolls over, switching their positions. Shifting her own position above the Dread Pirate, to a kneeling position between Molly’s legs, she powers the redhead up, getting to her own feet from kneeling, then drives her down with a wicked spinebuster that creates a massive splash.
SPINEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sktI5eIIXfA
Molly rolls onto her side to alleviate the throbbing pain in her back while Savage bends over, hands on her knees, trying to get air back into her lungs. Molly finally manages to get to all fours when Savage finally brings herself up to full height. “So,” Molly grunts, looking up at the bigger girl as the fans revel at the pirate’s dangling cleavage, “it’s batten down the hatches now, is it?”
Savage nods slowly, “‘fraid so, Molly. Fun’s fun, but one of us has to win this thing, and I intend for it to be me!” Wanting to press her advantage, Savage then bends over and wraps her arms around Molly’s waist in a gutwrench position. Bearing down, she ignores Molly’s yelps of protest and lifts her up draping her over her right shoulder in an agonizing Canadian Backbreaker.
CANADIAN BACKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PJKVJTHDX8
“AAAAAAARGGGH!! YE FOUL STRUMPET!” Molly bellows as Savage begins bouncing the buxom redhead up and down in the painful hold, “AVAST!! AVAST!!”
“You want me to stop, honey?” Savage answers, declining the Captain’s orders, “Just give me two little words...a little tap tap tap will do the job, too!” she giggles, hoping that she’s not pouring it on too badly.
“What do you say, Molly?” Craig Long asks the Dread Pirate. Up until now, the referee was content to stay in the background while the to women went about their playful antics. Now that it seemed they were getting serious, he was quick to step in and do his job, “You wanna submit?”
“GRRRRRRR!!!” Molly growls as her lower back continues to be tortured, the oil providing no relief to Savage’s powerful grip,”N-NAY!!” She answers, “It’ll take more’n this for that wench to get me to cry uncle!!”
Savage sighs and shakes her head regretfully. She doesn’t want to hurt Molly...not unless she finds out she’s into that sort of thing, anyway...but she needs to send a message; She will NOT be taken lightly! Not in the ring, and not in the Pit, either. “Have it your way.” she says, almost mournfully. The good news is she finally ends Molly’s suffering in the Canadian Backbreaker. The bad news is that she follows it up with a crushing inverted shoulderbreaker!
INVERTED SHOULDERBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3zJs4f7yO0
The busty buccaneer lets out a wail of agony as her shoulder comes down hard on the Blonde Bomber’s knee. Savage holds her in place for a few moments, before releasing her, and pushing her over, causing Molly to tumble, face down, in the shallow pool of oil on the Pit’s floor. Molly sputters as she spits out some of the foul-tasting oil as she struggles to get to all fours when she feels the sole of Savage’s foot press down on the back of the redhead’s neck, pushing her head back down into the oil. The crowd cheers in appreciation of this show of dominance, while Savage holds Molly’s thrashing body in place like this for a few moments, making no play to the audience. She doesn’t want to humiliate Molly, though that’s likely the end result. Her goal in doing this, as stated before, is to send a message to all the other oil combatants in the back. When she finally lets Molly up, she takes a step back to give her space to recover and regain her senses. Molly coughs and wheezes as she slowly works her way to a kneeling position. She then looks up to see Savage, waiting patiently for her opponent to ready herself.
“Oi!” she barks as she motions for Long to hand her a towel to wipe her eyes, a request to which he swiftly complies, “I thought we were keeping things friendly, aye? There’s no need to keelhaul me like that, lass!”
Savage nods, understanding her frustration, “I’m sorry Molly, but I need to make sure those bitches in the back - the ones that ain’t gonna keep things so friendly - know that I ain’t someone to fuck around with! I’m sorry I gotta send a message at your expense, I really am. I hope there ain’t gonna be no hard feelings when it’s all said and done, win or lose…”
Molly scowls as she clambers to her feet, “Well…” she begins, regarding the statuesque blonde, “I certainly understand needin’ ta fly your colors show ye ain’t to be trifled with. Yer apology is accepted, in the humor it’s been offered. Just know I ain’t down for the count yet, either, lassie!” she grins and motions for Savage to come to her, flirtily, with her index finger. Savage returns the grin and saunters over to her, swaying her hips seductively, indicating that none of the sexual tension between the top-heavy combatants has been diminished. They attempt a collar-and-elbow tieup, but the slickness of the oil on their flesh makes such a lockup almost impossible. Molly comes to this realization a half-step quicker than her younger adversary, and drops to her knees, flipping the bigger girl onto her back with a fireman’s carry. Savage yelps as she’s thrown head over heels into the oil.
Savage doesn’t have time to recover or roll to safety, as no sooner is she on her back than Molly is scrambling to position herself above the biker chick. Hiking her bikini bottoms up a little to expose even more cheek than she already had, the redhead slowly lowers herself down onto her prey, obscuring the pretty blonde’s facial features with her rear, taking Savage on a particularly sexy trip down to Davy Jones’ Locker.
DAVY JONES’ LOCKER @ 00:53
www.youtube.com/watch?v=w7Bkf5Drpxo
“Ahhh!” Molly sighs with satisfaction as Savage struggles underneath her, hands pressed to the pirate’s glutes to try and push her off to no avail, “that’s better!” She proceeds to put on a particularly lewd show for the FAWN Faithful, gyrating, grinding on Savage’s face, nibbling on her left pinky while her right hand brushes back some of her crimson locks, then slowly sliding down, across her face, her neck, her chest, and her tummy, much to the raunchy delight of the fans. “Ohhhhh, lassie!” she purrs, “whatever it is ye be doin’ down there, keep at it! It feels soooo good!” For her part, Savage isn’t actually doing anything to prompt such a response, save for her panicked cries buzzing against Molly’s crotch. One thing that is happening, however, is that, in spite of herself, Savage is getting very turned on by Molly’s antics, a fact that the Dread Pirate notes as she bends down to cup a hand over Savage’s bikini bottoms, giving them a few gentle passes, causing the blonde’s whole body to shiver. “Ohh! Very naughty indeed! Though, to be fair, I’d be lyin’ if I said ye weren’t getting me a little moist in the trunks meself. Here…” she draws herself back up to sitting back on her haunches. Still not giving Savage any relief from her gluteral prison, but that’s neither here nor there. “Let me help ye, me sweetie…” with that, she peels Savage’s oil-soaked bikini top up onto her chest, exposing her massive bosom. “Mmmm! A fine bounty, I’d say…” she coos, and upon hearing the approving cheers of the fans, she adds, “and I think these fine people agree!” She then plants her hands on Savage’s treasure trove, gently massaging and kneading the blonde’s teats. “I must admit,” she purrs as she pinches her nipples lightly, rolling them between her thumb and index finger to further blissful squeals down below, “I be a bit envious of that dusky lass of yers. I can’t wait to taste ye...and her, if she be willin’...in private, assumin’ we both be agreeable when this is all over.” No answer is forthcoming, not that Savage is in a position to give one, given that her face was currently being engulfed by Molly’s posterior.
However, the statuesque blonde did not idly accept her predicament, either. She squirmed and wriggled the entire time Molly had been molesting her and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. The Dread Pirate assumed, as most would, that her writhing was a feeble attempt to free herself, which is exactly what Savage had hoped for. Realizing early on just how solid Molly’s facesitting technique was, she realized that just bucking the redhead off of her wasn’t going to work, she was actually getting a feel for the push and pull of the slickness of their bodies, the shallow layer of oil on the floor, and so on. Having, to her satisfaction, sussed out the necessary environmental information, she put her plan of escape into motion. Doing her best to put aside her carnal desires, made all the harder by the busty buccaneer having a field day with her naughty bits, she turns slightly to one side, luckily not drawing Molly’s attention, and then quickly turns her whole body in the opposite direction, the lack of friction granted by the oil allowing Savage to turn onto her stomach in one rapid motion, sending Molly sliding off of her with a yelp of surprise. That done, the Blonde Bomber then pushes herself up and slides across the floor, creating some separation between the two lusty combatants.
“Clever girl,” Molly smirks as she clambers to her feet, “I knew ye were my kinda gal!”
Savage returns the smirk with one of her own as she likewise gets to her feet, pulling her top off (it was barely hanging on anyway) and tossing it away, giving some lucky fan a souvenir. “Thanks. The feeling’s mutual. Whattaya say we finish this so we can go have some real fun?” he purrs as she motions for Molly to bring it with both hands. Molly nods, grinning wickedly, before she lunges at the topless statuesque blonde. Savage wasn’t expecting it, but is barely able to sidestep the clumsy grasp, ducking and grabbing Molly’s right arm. As Savage pulls the ripcord, Molly gasps as she’s suddenly pulled into a cobra clutch that quickly becomes a variation of her signature Black Noise uranage backbreaker.
BLACK NOISE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0RWPOYIjwO0
Molly slides off of Savage’s knee, yelling out in pain. The Blonde Bomber then backs up a few steps, waiting for her moment to strike. Pushing herself up onto her haunches from all fours, Molly is quickly put onto her back with a running big boot from the bruising biker. Seeing her friendly adversary looming over her, Molly puts up a hand in front of her to try and placate Savage.
“Belay…” she manages to sputter out, “belay...Let’s parley, here...before ye do somethin’ we’ll both regret.”
“Sorry…” Savage shakes her head as she kneels down to get nose to nose with her, “we both knew only one of us could walk out of here a winner.” With that she clasps her hands behind Molly’s skull and pulls them into her massive bosom, smothering the redhead to the raucous approval of the crowd. “You treated me to an up close and personal look at your cannons, Molly...Only fair I return the favor. Only difference is, you ain’t gettin’ free!” As Molly shrieks into Savage’s chest and flails, she slowly realizes the truth of the blonde’s words. Her hands are locked tight, her head isn’t going anywhere, in spite of the slick mix of oil and sweat drenching both of their voluptuous bodies. Molly quickly comes to the conclusion that she has two choices: Tap, and save a little bit of her dignity; or be stubborn and sleep with the fishes. The pat-pat-pat of her hand on Savage’s backside signals her final decision as Long quickly calls for the bell.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!! Your winner, via submission...SAVAGE!!!”
The crowd roars in appreciation of one of the racier oil matches they’ve seen in awhile as Savage quickly releases Molly, her clutch at the back of the pirate’s head becoming a cradle, as she sets her down gently. The two of them smile at each other, sharing a little moment between them, before Savage finally speaks up.
“I’m glad you tapped…” she says as she takes her hand to pull her up to a seated position, “I was hoping I wasn’t going to have to put you to sleep.”
“Aye…” Molly replies with a twinkle in her eye, “though, truth be told, there be many, far worse ways to go.” They share a chuckle before returning to the matter at hand, “So, what d’ya say, lass? Might ye and Feral be up for spendin’ a night in the Captain’s quarters?” she asks with a smirk.
Savage licks her lips, making her answer obvious, “Ohhh, yeah...Feral will have to be...persuaded...But I think I can convince her.” she answers with a wink.
“Ahhh, splendid!” the Dread Pirate chirps, sliding a hand across Savage’s bare back, sending a tingle up the blonde’s spine, “I’ll have me cabin boy put me finest spirits on ice, and tell him to fire up the hot tub before he takes his leave for the night.”
Savage gasps and blinks, “Hot tub?”
“Aye,” Molly answers with a grin, “a pirate I may be, but this be not the eighteenth century. I like to live the high life with the spoils of me conquests! I’ve got me a penthouse apartment not three blocks from here, with all the luxuries you and yer luv could ask for!”
Savage grins back at Molly, her mind flooding with the possibilities of the night before them, “Y’know? I think it just got a lot easier to convince Feral to join us…”
Molly grins, “Thought so…” she then leans in and gives her conqueror a sweet kiss on the cheek, “Now, go give yer fans a victory lap, me lovely. Ye’ve earned it! I’ll catch up with the two of you in an hour, aye?”
She smiles and nods, “Aye aye, Cap’n!” With that, both women get to their feet, Molly raising Savage’s arm in victory and giving her a pat on the back as she walks away. Savage meanwhile takes that aforementioned victory lap, waving to the fans and posing for them. Remembering that she tossed away her bikini top, she cups her large breasts and gives them a playful shake for the fans, and does a little shimmy to make them jiggle to the raunchy glee of the FAWN Faithful. She then throws the horns with both hands, which is reciprocated by many in the audience, as she makes her exit from her first (but certainly not last) foray into the Oil Pit.
********
Jumping right back on the oily horse, Elizabeth Cromwell, having fallen flat on her face in her attempt to unseat the Dubai Diva, Zoë Scott, as FAWN Lightweight champion, was back in the Pit to reclaim momentum she'd discovered in the greasy fightscape. But the freckled fighter had found the going surprisingly sticky against fellow Brit Honey Harris. After a particularly humbling experience against Yoona Park, as most losses to the Eurasian champion were, Honey receded to The Jungle for more seasoning.
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
HONEY HARRIS:
The taste of the seasoning so far tonight was salty as Harris had been up more than down against the increasingly flustered Lizzie. The blonde rode Cromwell like a collegiate grappler, Honey tight to the auburn-haired Englishwoman's back, one arm circling the BSP's tummy, the other tight to the inside of Lizzie's near elbow. Though Honey wasn’t accumulating any 'riding time', she's forcing Elizabeth to carry her mass and wearing down the huffing, puffing, glistening Liverpudlian. Harris dug her chin into the nape of Cromwell's neck and made her hug a double-arm variety, trying to squeeze more of the life from the one-time phenom and Lightweight title holder.
“Unseemly trollop.” Lizzie grimaced as Honey did unpleasant things with the point of her chin. “You’re going to wish you were still freezing your arse off in Bangor by the time I’m done with WHOOOOOFFFFFHHHH!”
Harris powered to her knees, thus forcing Cromwell to do the same. This was followed by an energetic bit of rag-dollery with the Young Lioness cast in the roll of ‘Raggedy Lizzie’ much to her chagrin. Eventually Honey slowed the pace, though this was only a respite in that it took her a bit of scooting and sliding to get ‘em over to the gleaming blue wall of the Pit. “You’re doing an awful lot of talking for a chick on the losing end of a Bear Hug.” Harris muttered. “Frankly I’m tired of hearing it, but if you wanna keep running your mouth you can say it to the wall.”
Disgusted by the confidence in the blonde’s voice, Cromwell dug her talons into the side and tried to pull / slide her way out of the other wrestler’s grip. “I’ll speak to you whenever and however I please, you miserable little NNNNNNGGGGGHHHH!”
Honey reared back, then powered forward, all the better to SMECK Lizzie’s face, chest and tummy against the wall. “I said I don’t want to hear it!” Harris repeated. “Oh, and consider this payback from earlier.” Halving her Hug, Honey buried a hand in Cromwell’s hair, wedged her cheek against the side of the Pit and indulged in the rarely seen but extremely effective vertical face scrub!
Cromwell tried to return some trash talk but with her cheek pressed tight to the Pit wall it came out as an unintelligible burble. Lizzie threw an elbow blindly behind her but Harris caught it before it connected. She chicken-winged the limb and quickly did likewise with Elizabeth's opposite number. Honey swung the redhead away from the wall then swept her back in, banging the Boarding School Princess against it. With minimal padding, the impact rocked the already reeling Lizzie and when Harris heaved Cromwell toward the middle, releasing in a sort of discus throw, the blonde watched Lizzie lose her footing and faceplant dead center.
The crowd roars its approval, still bitter about how Elizabeth had turned against the Upstart Supreme, Sammie Sinclair. Honey's after her countrywoman quickly, leaping above the facedown, splayed Cromwell, dropping a knee into the base of Lizzie's shiny spine. The self-proclaimed Best Brit yelped in anguish, arching her vertebrae in response to the pain. In her red-white-and-blue bikini, Cromwell tried to slither out from beneath the point of Honey's knee.
“Where do you think you’re going, girl?” Honey asked after she’d filled a hand with the other Briton’s hair. “We’re not finished roughhousing yet!” she emphasized this point by yaaaaaaaaaaanking on Cromwell’s shoulder-length locks.
“Cheap bytch.” Lizzie groaned. “If we were in the ring I’d have NNNNNNGGGGGHHH!”
Harris cupped her free hand under Elizabeth’s chin and pulled back, wrenching her foe’s neck with an impromptu Camel Clutch. “If we were in the ring you would’ve already found half a dozen shortcuts, then you’d have whined about the ref being biased when he called you on your crap.”
Snarling in pain, anger and a whole lotta frustration, Lizzie didn’t just claw at the blonde’s encroaching forearm, she GOUGED at it. “Shut your mouth, just shut your bloody mouth why don’t NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH!”
Honey, proving herself a quick study in the relaxed environs of the Pit, bounced Cromwell’s noggin against the floor no less than half a dozen times, then doubled down on the hair-hold for an energetic round of more traditional scrubbing! Lizzie enjoyed this treatment just as much as the previous (which was to say, not at all) and her mood grew even more bilious when Honey spun around in a half circle and quickly collected both ankles. Butt resting snug in the hollow of Cromwell’s back, Harris tucked opposing shins beneath her armpits and leaned back to complete a particularly snug Boston Crab.
Already situated for maximum curvature of Cromwell's backbone, Harris used the oil to slide her derriere up Lizzie's back, bringing the captured legs with her. Elizabeth howled in anguish as the blonde continued to push her advantage on the flagging BSP. Growing more desperate, Cromwell tried to reach behind her and latch onto some piece of her fellow Englishwoman. And while her fingers did trickle over Harris' hammies, she couldn’t get a good grip on the slippery stems. Instead, Lizzie turned her attention toward locomotion in the forward direction, struggling with the greased plastic to pull out the back door.
Despite Honey's best efforts, the oil worked in favor of Cromwell's escape. Feeling the arc in her foe's back lessen and Elizabeth's groaning lowering in volume, Honey cut short her Crab, letting her foe's limbs slip from her grasp. She turned and held her position, watching intently as Elizabeth slithered to the wall, Cromwell turning when she reached her goal to sit against the vertical plane, knowing she couldn’t be attacked from the rear. But what Honey could do was charge from the front. Cromwell's eyes widened as Harris kept her feet, shooting across the oily plastic at a near-full sprint. Honey forward flipped into a Senton-like splash of Elizabeth's chest and face. Blasted, Lizzie timbered to a shoulder in a daze while Honey scrambles to her feet to an ovation, the time at The Jungle obviously having done her good.
Honey paused to acknowledge the cheers, albeit briefly. Much as she wanted to join in the crowd’s celebration, she didn’t quite dare until the Young Lioness was totally de-clawed. To that end she hurried over to Lizzie, grabbed a double handful of hair and hauled her to verticality. This arrangement didn’t last long as Harris doubled the other Brit over to stuff her noggin between oil-slicked thighs for a Standing Headscissors. Lizzie protested with some ineffectual wriggling, but Honey quashed this by simply wrapping her arms around the redhead’s waist while she backpedaled to the center of the Pit. Once there she relinquished the Waistlock long enough to SLAP both hands against Cromwell’s tush, a saucy little flourish that did nothing but strengthen her burgeoning fan-base.
From there she reapplied the Waistlock, dipped her knees and let out a breathy little grunt as she muscled Elizabeth up onto the ball of her right shoulder for a spine-wrenching Canadian Backbreaker!
“AAAAAAAWWWWWWW GAAAAAAAAAAHD!” Lizzie shrieked as Harris bounced up ‘n down to exacerbate the strain on her already aching vertebrae.
“Give up, sweetie!” Honey dug her knotted fists into the BSP’s tummy to make things all the more uncomfortable. “Give up before I fold you in halAARRRGGGHHH!”
The FAWNatics were treated to the unfamiliar sound of Honey Harris wailing in agony, courtesy of the cruelly crooked fingers a desperate Cromwell had hooked into her mouth and nose. “Leggo you nasty slag.” the Lioness growled. “Leggo, leggo, leggo!”
Eyes tearing against the catty desperation of her foe, Honey tried to shake Cromwell's fingers out of her 'face holes' to no effect. Even a drop to her knees to displace some of Elizabeth's vertebrae with the Canadian didn’t do the trick. Cromwell's guttural groan sounded like she's reacting to being snapped in two, but her curled claws continue to dig and Honey had to throw the redhead away.
On her knees, Harris rubbed at her burning features with a palm while clearing her welled eyes with the back of the other hand. Somehow, perhaps working on a last shot of adrenaline, Cromwell's ambulatory and upright. She snagged Honey's wrists from behind and pulled the blonde's arms back. Sticking the meat of her right sole on the back of Harris' braincase she DROVE Honey Blossom's face into the Pit floor with a Curbstomp from a high-rise level.
Not only did Cromwell send Honey's mug crashing into the deck but Lizzie ground it into the blue plastic like she's butting out a stale cigarette. With Honey flattened on her chest and face, the catfighter from Liverpool grabbed double handfuls of Honey's flaxen locks and planted two bare feet in the small of her foe's back. With wild abandon and revenge on her mind, not to mention her Prep School Pull being perfectly legal in the Pit, Cromwell leaned back in her cruel version of a Durfboard, Honey worriedly yelping from the burning in her scalp and growing anguish in her spinal column.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH STAAAAAAAAHHHHHP!” Honey wailed in stunned, almost incredulous anguish, such was the swiftness of her reversal of fortune. Pinned liked a bug beneath the spikes of Cromwell’s heels, her neck wrenched back at a hateful angle that only grew worse with each passing second, the blonde ingénue swatted at Lizzie’s forearms, rocked her hips from side to side, but couldn’t find a way out of the PSP.
Above her, Cromwell bobbled in place and wrenched the other wrestler’s head from side to side, putting even more strain on her neck. “GIVE UP, BRAT!” the Young Lioness demanded. “OR I’LL RIP YOUR HAIR OUT AND FEED IT TO YOU!”
“NUUUUHHHHH…. NO!” Honey waggled a finger to make sure the ref and the fans knew she was still in the fight. “I WON’T OOOOOOOOHHHHHH GAAAAAAHH!”
Cromwell kicked her feet forward and landed with her butt THUMPING into Harris’ rapidly softening spine. In the same breath she hooked her shins in under Honey’s jaw, crossed her ankles and leaaaaaaaaaaaaaaned back as far as gravity would allow. “WHAT WAS THAT, LITTLE GIRL? I COULDN’T HEAR--”
Honey reached out and swatted the Pit floor with both hands, then reached back and slapped Lizzie’s calf to make sure there was no mistake.
Releasing her grip as soon as the bell sounded, Cromwell tumbled to her belly and stayed there for a good five seconds before making it to one knee. “Thuuuhhhh… that’s right.” Lizzie said between rasping gasps. “Buuuhhh… best Brit ever… and don’t you forget it.”
The words were said with conviction and there was no doubt Lizzie meant ‘em, but one glance at her face was enough to confirm what she and the audience already knew… Honey Harris was a Brit to watch.
********
Coming up short in the cage battle to wrest the lightweight title from Zoë Scott, Strawberry decided to jump back on an oily horse in tonight’s Pit battlefield in Kissimmee. And the Upstart showed no fear, entering against a hot property in California Quake Kat Braddock. Though the Brat emerged on the wrong end of a war against Kylie Sanders, she’d since established herself in the oil with a convincing triumph over Cosette LeBlanc. The power packed, flaxen-haired fireplug likewise used her thick frame to bully the flexible, slender beauty in the early going and, after ten minutes of near domination, looks like she’s going to slide to an easy win.
KAT ‘THE BRAT’ BRADDOCK:
CHLOE FIELDS:
Kat rode the back of the flattened Chloe in a full body plaster, Braddock in a flattering green bikini showing off her curves, Fields in her trademark pink. Braddock latched onto Chloe’s dark locks and swept Fields’ face from side to side across the greasy blue plastic of the Pit floor. “Steroids couldn’t give you the muscle you need to beat me,” Chrissy’s Cali find growled at the grunting Strawberry, Fields trying to break free but unable. Kat drew the Upstart’s noggin back and THUMPED it into the light padding under the plastic.
“Zoë ain’t nothin’ compared to me,” Kat informed Chloe, as Braddock began snaking her arms around ‘berry’s braincase, weaving one of Fields’ arms within the knot, trying to secure a Cobra Clutch and send the brunette to dreamland.
Braddock secured the Half Nelson easily enough, but the back mount actually made it rather difficult to reach under the brunette, especially with Fields squirming like a downed power-line. Irritated by resistance, Kat clambered to both knees, curled her free hand into a spade and raaaaaaaaaaked it down her adversary’s back. “Want more of that, small fry?” she sneered. “Then give me your skinny little arm!”
Not about to do give into this preening brat, ‘Berry shifted in the mount as best she could, all the better to drive the point of her elbow into the meat of Braddock’s left thigh. “Pound sand, dummy! You wanna beat me, you’ll have to do it the hard NNNNGGGGHHH!”
Kat snatched a massive handful of Chloe’s ponytail, wrenched her noggin back and then THUNKED her forehead into the slippery floor of the Pit. “Keep it then, bytch. Why should I have to settle for your arm when I can crush your pathetic little bod?”
Eager to answer this question with action, Kat got to her feet and sauntered to the far side of the Pit, the pneumatic blonde ingénue making sure to show off the curves that’d bury soon bury this simpering moppet. The FAWNatics didn’t care for this prophecy very much, so Braddock flipped ‘em off, then bounced in place to send a few tremors through the Pit before she rushed down her own back-trail and leapt into the air for a low flying Frog Splash that’d-- SPLATHWHAP!
Chloe rolled toward her attacker at the last possible moment, leaving Kat to land on a recently vacated and utterly unwelcoming patch of gleaming floor.
The discomfort registered in the Brat's hazel eyes. The empty landing wasn’t quite the mistake it would be in the ring but there's still a sting to the impact and the same for having been suckered by stick girl. Kat rose to her haunches and rubbed her reddened tummy. Meanwhile, a risen Chloe raced in from Braddock's six. She latched onto Kat's cranium on the fly-by, landing on her taut little booty while SPIKING Kat's forehead into the Pit floor with a Bulldog. Braddock absently flopped to her back from the force of the blow and Strawberry scrambled atop the sassy rookie in a full body pin.
Fields slipped her lower limbs around those of the blonde in dual Grapevines and stretches Braddock's shorter legs wide. "At least your nickname is truth in advertising," Fields admitted. The Upstart swept a backhand grip behind Kat's neck, pulling her foe's head forward and chin down, trying to wear the sturdy Cali girl down with a Guillotine.
Braddock grimaced as Chloe streeeeetched her legs with the Grapevine, but the Guillotine wasn’t sunshine and rainbows either. Grimacing as she tried to pull her head free from the brunette’s grasp, Kat flattened her hands into paddles and CRAAACKED Fields’ flanks half a dozen times. “Get offa me, twiggUUUUGGGGGHHH!”
Chloe stretched the Brat a little wider, raised her hips and drove them Braddock’s gulping tummy. “Maybe you should knock the ‘tude outta your voice before you make requests, hmmmh?”
“Nuuhhh… not a request, bytch. It’s a demanEEERRRRGGGGHHH!”
Fields jostled the blonde’s head back ‘n forth, back ‘n forth, a ferocious little terrier shake to make sure curvy crusher knew she wasn’t in control of the situation. “Watch your mouth, Brat!” Chloe demanded with uncharacteristic sternness. “Unless you want to see what happens when an Upstart gets angOOOOOOOFFFHHHHH!”
Braddock wrapped her arms around the brunette’s trim midsection and squeeeeeeeeeezed until Fields’ dark eyes went wide. “So you want a contest?” Kat growled. “Fine baby, let’s see who holds on the longest!”
Kat's little biceps bulged as she cinched her arms tight around the tawny, glistening abdomen of the Upstart. Stubbornly, Fields tightened her grip and widened her legs. But suddenly a soft mewl escaped the former Cirque du Soleil's performer's lips and her Guillotine grip loosens. Panicking as her breath continued to be forced out as soon as it comes in, Chloe released altogether and tried to pry her arms under the powerful embrace of the curvy Quake.
A plaintive 'stahhp' under Chloe's breath only prompted Braddock to close the noose tighter and Strawberry gave up her 'vines as well. She pushed at Kat's shoulders, trying to break loose. "That's right," Braddock grunted. "But too little, too late." Fields arched in her attempt to create slack and free herself but The Brat was unrelenting. Deciding to take the more direct approach, Chloe SLAMMED a right forearm into Braddock's left temple, determined to loosen the blonde's breathtaking embrace enough to slide her oil-coated frame out of Kat's girdle.
Braddock growled, clenched her teeth and poured even more power into the Bear Hug. “What did I say, shrimp? Too little! Too latNGH! NGH! NGH!”
Chloe planted her non-bludgeoning hand against the blonde’s chest and let loose with three more Forearm Smashes, each aimed at the side of her opponent’s head. Give the Brat her due, she soaked them up without complaint, but Chrissy had trained her not to take undefended shots if she could avoid it, so the Californian popped her hips and rolled over to switch positions with the startled brunette. From there she reared back on her knees, which allowed her to haul Fields into a tummy on tummy clen--
“OOOOHHHHHH!” Kat’s features crumpled in nauseated surprise when Chloe threaded her legs around the blonde’s waist and bore down with all her might!
“Still think this is over?” Fields grunted. “I think we’re just getting started!” To that end she hooked an arm around the back of Braddock’s noggin, all the better to keep her in place while she unleashed a barrage of short, stiff Forearm Smashes!
Upstart Nation roared to life as Kat's head pivoted more and more with each blow. Fields' sinewy thighs continued to flex, pressing into the midriff of the curvy blonde. As strong as Kat's hug was, Braddock's arms were tiring and the feeling of HER abs pinching in pain from Strawberry's Scissors made keeping the embrace in place all the more difficult. Giving up her Hug, Kat used her arms to bracket her head from the battering blows of the Upstart.
But while her temples were protected, Chloe found another avenue. Using the grip behind the Quake's braincase, Fields drew the blonde's head forward as she shot her own to meet Kat's, Headbutting Braddock between the eyes. Kat's peepers went glassy and her arms wobbled before falling to her side. Not wanting Kat's considerable cleavage to collapse upon her, Chloe barrel rolled her way topside, keeping the Scissors in play while pulling Kat to a seat and ending in the blonde's lap.
With Braddock in a daze, Chloe unhooked her Bodyscissors and slide the slippery stems to the bobbling noggin of the Brat. Chloe clamped her tawny thighs into the cheeks and temples of her foe, locking her ankles behind while pulling Kat's chin to the juncture of her thighs. Palms of the Pit floor, Chloe rose up, tightening her leg muscles like a vise around the head of the Cali blonde. "You ready to tap to a wimp?”
Cheeks flushed with more than just the strain of the Scissors, Braddock planted her hands against the floor of the Pit and bicycled her legs until she managed to scramble onto her knees. Doing so stacked Fields on her shoulders but the lack of pins in the oil meant the blonde was far more than three seconds from freedom. This didn’t seem to bother the Quake, as she coiled both arms around the brunette’s waist and slooooooooowly muscled her offa the floor past her hips, past her chest, all the way past her shoulders for what would surely be one helluva Power-NO!
Demonstrating a poise borne of battles against the most vicious names the Lightweight Division could offer, Chloe pounded a pair of Hammer Fists into the bridge of Kat’s nose, then popped her hips for a backward swing that ripped Braddock from her moorings and deposited her flat on her back! Fields’ improvised ‘Rana was just as useless for pins as Braddock’s Matchbook, of course, Chloe wasn’t thinking about a cover. With her gams framing the Californian’s pink mug, ‘Berry brought her thighs together and hunched over until her forehead was pressed against the slick floor! “Still gotcha, Bratty!” Chloe giggled as she squeezed and smothered at the same time. “Get out if you ca--NOPE!” Braddock grabbed for those bright pink bottoms, luckily Fields caught hold of her wrists and stretched those protesting arms in a wide ‘T’ shape. “Go on, see if you can throw a tantrum strong enough to get you outta this!”
Never expecting to be in such a precarious position, the curvy blonde jostled her rider as best she can but the flipping, disorienting trip to the Pit floor and the pressure of the Headscissors making her feel under water had the struggling Brat looking up at a giggling Upstart with worry. Kat willed her arms up to throttle Chloe but Strawberry had gravity and game play on her side and the limbs remained glued to the slippery plastic. Braddock could hear Chrissy's voice in her head, and how she couldn't allow an Upstart to show her up. Kat thrust her pelvis, grunting furiously.
Nothing.
Nothing but the feeling that Chloe, with her supposed stick legs, might squeeze the eyes from her sockets with the growing pressure. When Kat's vision started to darken, the busty blonde could do nothing in return but admit the impossible. Unable to tap, she raspily provides her verbal surrender, eyes welling at the bitter sight of a delighted Chloe gazing down on her framed face.
The CLANG of the bell struggled against the roar of the crowd, as did the Announcer when he called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission… CHLOE FIELDS!”
YEAH!” Chloe straightened up and shot both arms overhead in a gaudy, victorious ‘V’ that earned yet another round of incredulous cheering. Nodding appreciatively at the show of support, Fields let out a deep breath, then took a moment to tuck some hair behind her ears. From there she put her hands on her knees and looked down at Kat. “Probably stupid to waste my breath telling you to be nice.” she admitted to the exhausted, fuming blonde. “So instead I’ll warn you to watch your mouth the next time you’re in the ring…” Chloe reached down and tapped Braddock on the nose, “… or the Oil, with me. ‘Kay, sweetie?”
he Brat was too worn out to answer, so Fields bounced to verticality and quickly planted a foot atop those conquered curves while earning a whole ‘nother round of applause with a jaunty ‘Lookit the winner!’ double bicep flex.
We've got a quartet of oily highlights for this month's report, including a pairing of two newcomers making their first appearance in the Pit.
Enjoy!
~RF
Apologies to anyone who looked at this in the first 20 minutes and found nothing but broken links. Imgur tried to do me dirty, but it's all good now.
********
Those with a predilection for believing Latinas ruled the Pit couldn't have been unhappy to see the next pairing scheduled and the battle thus far did not disappoint. Luisa Campos, Pearls to Marisol Ayala's Diamonds had taken to the oil in January. She left a greasy victor, dispatching a blonde who is now a #1 tag contender in her wake. If the Brazilian figured to have an easier time of it with a bite-sized Mexican up from The Jungle she clearly had learned differently.
LUISA CAMPOS:
SOSHANA SOTO:
After a cup of coffee in the bigs, Soshana Soto made a name and a difference in Bangor, becoming a beloved face from South of the Border near the Northern one. The spicy but never salty Latina was proving too fast and yes slippery for Pearls to dominate. In fact, after a dozen minutes, it's Luisa who's flat on her back in a single file. Despite the treacherous footing on the baby oil-drenched plastic, the diminutive Lil So-So stands next to her huffing foe, back to Campos. She back-flipped into a Moonsault CRUSHING Luisa under the splash, tummies THWACKING together in the Johnson & Johnson. Luisa's dark eyes bulged as she jackknifed under the Energizer Bunny from La Paz. Above, in the front row of the stands, another recent refugee from The Jungle, her Cuban sister Sofia Garcia led the cheers along with a more familiar face, Soledad Sanchez, the Latina blood thick in the air and seemingly all in support of Lil So-So.
Satisfied by the sound and feel of the Moonsault, Soto popped to her feet, took a few steps back and rushed forward, the diminutive ingénue clearly not worried about the oil interfering with her-- Soshana hopped up and tumbled forward in a low-flying Somersault Senton that THUMPED every bit of her weight against Campos’ already throbbing midsection!
On her feet almost immediately thereafter, Lil’ So-So whipped around on one heel, leapt into the air and delivered a THIRD gut-crushing to Luisa’s tummy! “What’s wrong babe, not feeling so tuff when you can’t tag out?” Soto’s tone was weary but satisfied as she straddled the Brazilian’s hips.
“Juuuuhhhh… just shut your mouth, beeyotch.” Campos moaned. “Don’t make me tell you twicOOOHHHMMMPPPHHH!”
Soshana laced her hands behind Luisa’s head and hauled her to a protesting seat. What looked like a Guillotine Choke in the beginning turned out a little more…’spirited’ let us say, when Soto cinched her arms around the other brunette’s noggin and drew her down into a deep Front Sleeper! Furious over such an indignity, Luisa immediately reached for those constraining arms only to have her attention diverted by the snug Scissors Soshana wrapped around her waist!
“Not going anywhere, baby!” Soto giggled. “Actually, that’s not true. You’re going down!”
Bearing down on both holds, Soshana leaned left and laid out on her side to bring both brunettes down into the warm, slippery oil. Delighted to see the arrogant tag specialist suffering in such a predicament, the FAWNatics started in with a ‘TAP!’ chant loud enough to reach through the fog rapidly filling Campos’ head.
With the thought of losing to a FAWN and Pit newbie effectively giving her what might be one last shot of adrenaline, Luisa smecked fist after fist into Lil So-So's ribs. Desperate to break the hold of someone she'd clearly underestimated, Campos traded her fists in for her elbows and the bony points prove quite distracting to Soto. The Mexican groaned softly with each impact, her face twisting in pain. Knowing if she could just hold on, Pearls would be hers, but the increasing ache finally convinced Soshana to release and roll away from the Rio native.
Lil So-So rubbed at the reddened blotches on her rib cage, snorting in anger. "Big mistake, chica," she grunted. Seeing Luisa up her knees and generously offering her six o'clock, So-So surged toward her target, leaping from a few feet out. Her knees crashed into Luisa's shoulderblades and she rode the Brazilian down to a modified Curbstomp of sorts, or inverted Thesz Press.
Whatever you preferred, Luisa's face was buried in the greasy blue plastic with Mexican Fire on her haunches atop Campos, shins on biceps. "You should have tapped. Now you'll be spitting out baby oil for days." The feisty Lil So-So sought to make sure, swiping Campos' features into a little pool collecting a few inches to the left of Luisa's nose.
Luisa squealed in protest, the usually elegant battler unable to believe that this little trollop was treating HER so shabbily. Fighting this growing panic as best she could, ‘Pearls’ planted her hands against the slippery blue floor and puuuuuuushed up far enough to get her face outta scrubbin’ range. “Disgusting tramp!” she barked. “I’m going to savor tearing you apaOOOOFFFFHHHH!”
Soshana bounced to her feet and immediately dropped into a deep squat that THUMPED her buns against the small of Campos’ back! “You just don’t learn, do you sweetie?” Soto teased. “Girls spitting oil usually shouldn’t talk that trash!” Luisa had no response for this, which was just how Lil So-So wanted it. Twisting around in a half circle, the recent Jungle graduate leaned forward, collected Campos’ ankles in both hands and bent her legs backward so she could tuck opposing shins beneath her armpits.
Hands clasped tight to keep the Boston Crab in place, Soshana thum-thum-thumped her butt against Luisa’s lower back before she slid her perch north by several inches. “Sitting on your shoulders now, honey!” Soto bopped in place to emphasize the point. “If I scoot back anymore I’ll be touching your toes to your shoulders!”
Campos' glistening face screwed up in frustration and agony, her right hand hovering over the Pit floor, her left hand buried in her matted raven locks, yanking at her ebony mane to spread the pain. "You can't...can't!"
"I can't?" Soshana huffed, shimmying farther toward the Brazilian's braincase and squatting lower, threatening to snap Luisa's spinal column with the Crab. "It's simple. Quit and you can scurry back under the apron of Diamonds."
A furious shriek emanated from Pearls. She pushed up on her palms, ducked and tucked her head and somersaulted out of immediate trouble, Soto's greasy soles working against her to keep the submission in place. She staggered in a backpedal over the splayed Campos. Not wanting the nasty Brazilian on her feet, evening the odds, Lil So-So charges her foe, only for Luisa to shoot a foot up from her reclined position, driving it into the red, white and green trunks of the diminutive Latina.
Kitty crunched, Soto was fozen, rising to tiptoes as the crowd MOANED in sympathy. She mewled in pain, hands buried between her thighs. "How? she squeaked.
"Could I?" Luisa completed. "Because I'm elite and you're a fluffy lil mascot." Campos ground her foot in deep, Soshana doubling over farther, her eyes welling. "And now you're mine." Luisa pushed wearily to her feet and rocked Lil So-So to her back with a vicious European Uppercut that left Soto gazing blankly up at Campos, palms still tight to her crotch, likely wondering what went wrong. yt
Luisa on the other hand was all smiles, her ahem ‘pearly whites’ on obvious display as she took the time to stomp n’ stroll all around the fallen brunette. “Should’ve finished me when you had the chance, trash heap.” Campos sniffed. “Now I’m going to show these idiots what happens to obnoxious little urchins that try to embarrass me.”
“Nuuuuhhh… no try about it, brat.” Soto groaned. “It wasn’t just the strain that made you reHEY! DON’T YOU NNNNNGGGHHH!”
Luisa snatched the other brunette’s ankles, stretched her legs wide and promptly dropped to her knees to THUMP a Headbutt into the newcomer’s trunks! The crowd didn’t like it one bit, which was probably why Campos took such great joy in collecting her foe’s shins under her arms. Taking a moment to glance around the Pit, Luisa gauged distances before taking a few steps back. Thus satisfied with the arrangement, she rocked back on her heels and laid out flat, a move that peeled Lil So-So out of the oil just long enough to THWHAP her chest and tummy-first against the wall of the Pit!
Stretched out almost directly beneath the stunned tyro, Luisa drew her knees up high and jostled Soto’s captured stems until she tumbled back and-- “AAAAAAWWWW GAAAAAAAWWWWWD!” Soshana wailed right along with the FAWNatics because she landed directly atop the Brazilian’s posted knees.
“Oooohhh, what’s the matter? Did you hurt your fragile little back?” Luisa bobbled her knees up and down to exacerbate the cruel arch in her prey’s spine. “Then give up if you can’t handle it, bytch!”
From above, Sofia and Soledad shouted at Soto to hang on, but the agonizing arch was terrifying to observe let alone survive and within seconds Lil So-So was howling in pain, her arms flailing. She's able to reach Luisa's tawny thighs and scrapes at the muscular stems, but Campos only responded by pulling her knees further toward her chest. The bony joints pushed farther into the small of Soshana's spine and her back increases its awful arch.
The crowd and her cohorts chanted ‘PLEASE...DON'T...TAP!’ and Lil So-So refused the Brazilian's demand. She tried to use her greased skin to wriggle out of the backbreaking predicament, but it's Luisa that was able to rotate from underneath. Corralling both of Soto's weakened legs with one wrapping right arm, the Brazilian pivoted ninety degrees so her knees were perpendicular to the diminutive Latina's spinal column. Luisa sealed the deal when she circled her left arm around Soshana's throat. The infuriated crowd let loose with a torrent of boos as Campos pilfered a FAWN legend's iconic Bridge and sent Lil So-So into a different, more extreme version of her previous torture.
The Mexican beauty sobbed as London's now Luisa's Bridge threatened to dislodge several vertebrae. After a dozen seconds, Soto could take no more, waving wildly in the air with one arm, tapping Campos' thigh with the hand of the other as she screamed her surrender.
Luisa cranked down on both ends of her purloined Bridge until the bell sounded half a dozen times and even then she made a point to buck Soto clear instead of simply releasing her grip. Making a show of her post-match ablutions, Campos spun to one knee, flicked her hair behind her ears and treated her tush to a single saucy swat. These movements were measured, almost languid, but there was nothing languid in the ferocious way she grabbed Soshana’s ankles and draaaaaaaaaaagged her into the center of the Pit!
“I TOLD YOU YOU’D PAY!” Campos snarled after she’d planted a knee in the small of Soto’s anguished back. “And I don’t mean to make you wait, slut.”
Fingers crooked into claws, she raked Lil So-So’s back half a dozen times, then ‘snapped’ the knot on her bikini top and tore it loose with a gaudy flourish. Some scattered cheers were quickly replaced with full-fledged outrage when Luisa slipped the shorn top into Soshana’s mouth and wrenched her head back in a vicious, makeshift bridle!
“C’mon loser, gimme a pony-ride!” Campos transferred her weapon to one hand so she could SPANK Soto’s squirming glutes. “Don’t make me tell you twice, princess. I absolutely HATE to repeat my--”
Stereo ‘sploots’ on the other side of the pit drew Luisa’s attention away from her prey and just like that the Brazilian Bombshell was on her feet and running for cover to escape the arrival of Sofia and Soledad. Possessed of a heretofore untapped well of agility, Campos leapt, caught the top of the Pit wall and pulllllled herself up over the edge in all of maybe two seconds.
“Cheap trash!” Pearls shouted down at the intruding brunettes. “How dare you deny me my rightful prize!”
Crouched beside Soshana and Sofia, Soledad rose to her full height and stretched her arms wide. “You want it, Luisa? Come and get it.”
Luisa DID think about it, but in the end decided she’d deal with these meddlers in her own time. Skewering Sanchez with a particularly poisonous glare, she stormed away from the Pit, thus leaving the fresher brunettes to tend to their fallen friend.
********
SAVAGE:
MOLLY O’CANNON:
The two oil debutantes meet in the center of the pit, Savage wearing a skimpy tiger-print bikini, while Molly has forgone her usual pirate-themed attire, settling instead on an equally skimpy black bikini with skull on each of her overflowing cups, and a Jolly Roger emblazoned on her rear. The busty fighters eye each other up and down, mere inches from each other and smirking appreciatively. Indeed, this face off makes for a captivating image, one that the photographers for Gladiatrix don’t pass up.
Savage licks her lips thoughtfully, “Hmmm...So this is your first time in the Oil Pit, too, huh?” she purrs, taking a step towards her opponent.
“Nay, lass,” Molly answers with a good hearted chuckle, matching Savage’s movements with a step forward of her own, “I’ve not set foot in these waters in FAWN, ‘tis true. But I be not a stranger to this environ.” The two women chest up to each other, pressing their prodigious bosoms against each other, grinning at each other like Cheshire cats as they continue to size each other up.
“So,” Savage coos, looking like she’d like to jump Molly’s bones as much as fight her, “the way I see it...we can either have some fun - trying to win, of course, I ain’t stepping aside for you - and give these fine people a show.” she gestures to the rowdy, catcalling FAWNatics, chomping at the bit to see these buxom beauties go at it, “Or, it can be a knock-down, drag-out from jump street. And I don’t know about you, but…” she flicks a finger at the teeny string at Molly’s hip, “I’d sure like to keep things as civil as possible. But it’s your call, Treasure Chest...how nasty d’ya wanna get?”
“Hmmm…” Molly ponders the blonde’s words, and responds with a quick squeeze of Savage’s rear, “Lookin’ the way ye do, landlubber, I’d say we’re of the same mind. A friendly competition it is, then! But I don’t intend to just hand me bounty over to ye so easily either, lassie! I’ll keep it as…”fun,” as ye put it...as you do.” She winks at the bigger girl, then snakes her arms around Savage’s waist. The Blonde Bomber nods and follows suit, pushing their slick, glistening breasts even closer together. “A test of strength to begin with, then, me sweetie!”
“Whenever you’re ready, darlin’!” And with that, the two women tighten their grips on each other in a mutual bearhug. The grapplers grunt and groan as they struggle against one another, the oil making a lasting grip exceedingly difficult. Slowly, Savage makes progress, pushing the smaller redhead back inch by inch, until her back is against the wall of the Pit. There’s no corner or rope break in an Oil Pit match, so no five-count is forthcoming. Nevertheless, the oil-slick combatants slowly unwrap themselves from one another, and Savage takes a step back, giving Molly a playful tap on the chest with both hands, perhaps a little lower than is customary on the chest. Still, Molly doesn’t seem to mind, smirking at her opponent and giving her chest a little shimmy to make them jiggle some more as the crowd applauds both the show of sportsmanship and the display of flesh.
“That’s some muscle you got there, lass.” she compliments her friendly (at least for now) adversary, “It takes a mighty woman to push ol’ Molly around like that!”
Savage dips her head respectfully to Molly, “Living on the streets for four years forced me to get strong real quick! You’re no slouch, yourself! I’ve gotta say, after dealing with those Halfmoon bitches, it’s nice to be staring across at someone that ain’t out for my blood!”
“Aye,” Molly nods in agreement as she shakes her limbs out and steps back out from the wall, “I’d rather not have things turn ugly between us! I’d much prefer something...sweeter...from ye.” She winks at her.
“Glad we’re on the same page where that’s concerned,” she smiles and winks back, taking another step back to let Molly have some space to gather herself. “Your move, Cap’n,” she grins, taking a grappler’s stance. Molly nods and holds her hands out in front of her as the women tentatively entangle their fingers together. Once both of their hands are locked together, the two of them throw themselves at one another, their slick bodies colliding with a thud as the grunt and struggle against one another in a Greco-Roman knuckle lock, trying to get a leverage advantage against one another. Once more, while Molly is no pushover, Savage’s height and strength advantage make the difference, as she slowly is able to bend the Dread Pirate backwards into a forced bridge. Molly’s grunts get louder as she struggles to power out of the bridge, only for those grunts turn into cries when Savage, knuckles still locked with hers, lifts herself off the slippery floor, bringing her knees down onto Molly’s taut tummy. Although the initial impact and added weight certainly hurts, Molly’s experience allows her to use Savage’s momentum to help her wriggle free, using their slickness to slide away from the statuesque blonde who slips and tumbles with a splash to the floor. Molly capitalizes on her opponent’s loss of balance, quickly crawling over to Savage and snaking her arms around her waist from behind. In an impressive show of strength in her own right, she lifts the bigger girl off the wet floor, and slams her back into the oil with another splash, about a hundred-eighty degrees from where she was.
“Yer a naughty one, aren’t ye?” she purrs into Savage’s ear, giving her earlobe a little lick. She then rides the bigger girl, tenaciously hanging on as she tries to shake her loose. “I like it, I do...But bad girls…” she slides up Savage’s back, spinning herself so she’s facing her feet end, “...need discipline! I’ve not me cat with me, sweetheart, but ye’ll feel the rope’s end all the same!” And with that, the busty buccaneer begins to slap out a sea shanty on Savage’s firm backside. The crowd cheers as Molly’s makeshift bongos jiggle and ripple with each smack. For her part, Savage squeals with each spank, and she kicks her legs, but doesn’t seem to be doing much else to try and free herself. Her fun done after close to a dozen playful swats, Molly slides off the Blonde Bomber, leaving her to rub her reddened cheeks, her lewd smile betraying her thoughts. However, she doesn’t notice the redhead backing into her until it’s too late, and thus, as Molly forces her head up by her flaxen locks, Savage is forced to Swab the Deck.
SWAB THE DECK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfDl9CQJn5s
After a few passes of her backside into Savage’s face, Molly lets up before she loses her balance in the oil, maintaining her grip on her opponent’s hair. She drags Savage up to her feet, and lifts her up. She then brings her down, crotch-first, on her knee with a back-rattling Shiver Me Timbers. The statuesque blonde staggers back, clutching her lower back, only to eat a stiff Yardarm that sends her splashing into the oil on her back.
SHIVER ME TIMBERS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7edAGvHvXTw
YARDARM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5FncrokitI
Savage groans as she tries to shake the cobwebs. THAT was not so fun, she thought as she shook her head. Her eyes then widen as she sees a pair of black-clad boobs lowering themselves down over her face, as Molly introduces her to her Treasure Chest.
TREASURE CHEST:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rTq2XPUzjno&t=3s
“Shhhh! Sh! Sh! Sh!” Molly shushes her victim as she plants a kiss on the top of her head, continuing to smother the blonde. “This has been fun, me matey! But I told ye from the start I’d not just let you have yer way with me! ‘Tis time for you to take a caulk!” Savage flails and slaps at Molly’s back and rear, to no avail. “Come now, lassie,” she entreats as the slaps begin to lose their steam, “let’s see those deadlights go dim, me lovely, then we can go splice the mainbrace together and have some fun!” she coos with delight, feeling Savage’s mouth against her bosom, crying out muffled screams of panic. Then, suddenly, the Blonde Bomber locks her hands around Molly’s lower back, the strength of the hold seeming to suggest she was getting her second wind. With a (muffled, again) roar of determination, Savage rolls over, switching their positions. Shifting her own position above the Dread Pirate, to a kneeling position between Molly’s legs, she powers the redhead up, getting to her own feet from kneeling, then drives her down with a wicked spinebuster that creates a massive splash.
SPINEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sktI5eIIXfA
Molly rolls onto her side to alleviate the throbbing pain in her back while Savage bends over, hands on her knees, trying to get air back into her lungs. Molly finally manages to get to all fours when Savage finally brings herself up to full height. “So,” Molly grunts, looking up at the bigger girl as the fans revel at the pirate’s dangling cleavage, “it’s batten down the hatches now, is it?”
Savage nods slowly, “‘fraid so, Molly. Fun’s fun, but one of us has to win this thing, and I intend for it to be me!” Wanting to press her advantage, Savage then bends over and wraps her arms around Molly’s waist in a gutwrench position. Bearing down, she ignores Molly’s yelps of protest and lifts her up draping her over her right shoulder in an agonizing Canadian Backbreaker.
CANADIAN BACKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PJKVJTHDX8
“AAAAAAARGGGH!! YE FOUL STRUMPET!” Molly bellows as Savage begins bouncing the buxom redhead up and down in the painful hold, “AVAST!! AVAST!!”
“You want me to stop, honey?” Savage answers, declining the Captain’s orders, “Just give me two little words...a little tap tap tap will do the job, too!” she giggles, hoping that she’s not pouring it on too badly.
“What do you say, Molly?” Craig Long asks the Dread Pirate. Up until now, the referee was content to stay in the background while the to women went about their playful antics. Now that it seemed they were getting serious, he was quick to step in and do his job, “You wanna submit?”
“GRRRRRRR!!!” Molly growls as her lower back continues to be tortured, the oil providing no relief to Savage’s powerful grip,”N-NAY!!” She answers, “It’ll take more’n this for that wench to get me to cry uncle!!”
Savage sighs and shakes her head regretfully. She doesn’t want to hurt Molly...not unless she finds out she’s into that sort of thing, anyway...but she needs to send a message; She will NOT be taken lightly! Not in the ring, and not in the Pit, either. “Have it your way.” she says, almost mournfully. The good news is she finally ends Molly’s suffering in the Canadian Backbreaker. The bad news is that she follows it up with a crushing inverted shoulderbreaker!
INVERTED SHOULDERBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3zJs4f7yO0
The busty buccaneer lets out a wail of agony as her shoulder comes down hard on the Blonde Bomber’s knee. Savage holds her in place for a few moments, before releasing her, and pushing her over, causing Molly to tumble, face down, in the shallow pool of oil on the Pit’s floor. Molly sputters as she spits out some of the foul-tasting oil as she struggles to get to all fours when she feels the sole of Savage’s foot press down on the back of the redhead’s neck, pushing her head back down into the oil. The crowd cheers in appreciation of this show of dominance, while Savage holds Molly’s thrashing body in place like this for a few moments, making no play to the audience. She doesn’t want to humiliate Molly, though that’s likely the end result. Her goal in doing this, as stated before, is to send a message to all the other oil combatants in the back. When she finally lets Molly up, she takes a step back to give her space to recover and regain her senses. Molly coughs and wheezes as she slowly works her way to a kneeling position. She then looks up to see Savage, waiting patiently for her opponent to ready herself.
“Oi!” she barks as she motions for Long to hand her a towel to wipe her eyes, a request to which he swiftly complies, “I thought we were keeping things friendly, aye? There’s no need to keelhaul me like that, lass!”
Savage nods, understanding her frustration, “I’m sorry Molly, but I need to make sure those bitches in the back - the ones that ain’t gonna keep things so friendly - know that I ain’t someone to fuck around with! I’m sorry I gotta send a message at your expense, I really am. I hope there ain’t gonna be no hard feelings when it’s all said and done, win or lose…”
Molly scowls as she clambers to her feet, “Well…” she begins, regarding the statuesque blonde, “I certainly understand needin’ ta fly your colors show ye ain’t to be trifled with. Yer apology is accepted, in the humor it’s been offered. Just know I ain’t down for the count yet, either, lassie!” she grins and motions for Savage to come to her, flirtily, with her index finger. Savage returns the grin and saunters over to her, swaying her hips seductively, indicating that none of the sexual tension between the top-heavy combatants has been diminished. They attempt a collar-and-elbow tieup, but the slickness of the oil on their flesh makes such a lockup almost impossible. Molly comes to this realization a half-step quicker than her younger adversary, and drops to her knees, flipping the bigger girl onto her back with a fireman’s carry. Savage yelps as she’s thrown head over heels into the oil.
Savage doesn’t have time to recover or roll to safety, as no sooner is she on her back than Molly is scrambling to position herself above the biker chick. Hiking her bikini bottoms up a little to expose even more cheek than she already had, the redhead slowly lowers herself down onto her prey, obscuring the pretty blonde’s facial features with her rear, taking Savage on a particularly sexy trip down to Davy Jones’ Locker.
DAVY JONES’ LOCKER @ 00:53
www.youtube.com/watch?v=w7Bkf5Drpxo
“Ahhh!” Molly sighs with satisfaction as Savage struggles underneath her, hands pressed to the pirate’s glutes to try and push her off to no avail, “that’s better!” She proceeds to put on a particularly lewd show for the FAWN Faithful, gyrating, grinding on Savage’s face, nibbling on her left pinky while her right hand brushes back some of her crimson locks, then slowly sliding down, across her face, her neck, her chest, and her tummy, much to the raunchy delight of the fans. “Ohhhhh, lassie!” she purrs, “whatever it is ye be doin’ down there, keep at it! It feels soooo good!” For her part, Savage isn’t actually doing anything to prompt such a response, save for her panicked cries buzzing against Molly’s crotch. One thing that is happening, however, is that, in spite of herself, Savage is getting very turned on by Molly’s antics, a fact that the Dread Pirate notes as she bends down to cup a hand over Savage’s bikini bottoms, giving them a few gentle passes, causing the blonde’s whole body to shiver. “Ohh! Very naughty indeed! Though, to be fair, I’d be lyin’ if I said ye weren’t getting me a little moist in the trunks meself. Here…” she draws herself back up to sitting back on her haunches. Still not giving Savage any relief from her gluteral prison, but that’s neither here nor there. “Let me help ye, me sweetie…” with that, she peels Savage’s oil-soaked bikini top up onto her chest, exposing her massive bosom. “Mmmm! A fine bounty, I’d say…” she coos, and upon hearing the approving cheers of the fans, she adds, “and I think these fine people agree!” She then plants her hands on Savage’s treasure trove, gently massaging and kneading the blonde’s teats. “I must admit,” she purrs as she pinches her nipples lightly, rolling them between her thumb and index finger to further blissful squeals down below, “I be a bit envious of that dusky lass of yers. I can’t wait to taste ye...and her, if she be willin’...in private, assumin’ we both be agreeable when this is all over.” No answer is forthcoming, not that Savage is in a position to give one, given that her face was currently being engulfed by Molly’s posterior.
However, the statuesque blonde did not idly accept her predicament, either. She squirmed and wriggled the entire time Molly had been molesting her and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. The Dread Pirate assumed, as most would, that her writhing was a feeble attempt to free herself, which is exactly what Savage had hoped for. Realizing early on just how solid Molly’s facesitting technique was, she realized that just bucking the redhead off of her wasn’t going to work, she was actually getting a feel for the push and pull of the slickness of their bodies, the shallow layer of oil on the floor, and so on. Having, to her satisfaction, sussed out the necessary environmental information, she put her plan of escape into motion. Doing her best to put aside her carnal desires, made all the harder by the busty buccaneer having a field day with her naughty bits, she turns slightly to one side, luckily not drawing Molly’s attention, and then quickly turns her whole body in the opposite direction, the lack of friction granted by the oil allowing Savage to turn onto her stomach in one rapid motion, sending Molly sliding off of her with a yelp of surprise. That done, the Blonde Bomber then pushes herself up and slides across the floor, creating some separation between the two lusty combatants.
“Clever girl,” Molly smirks as she clambers to her feet, “I knew ye were my kinda gal!”
Savage returns the smirk with one of her own as she likewise gets to her feet, pulling her top off (it was barely hanging on anyway) and tossing it away, giving some lucky fan a souvenir. “Thanks. The feeling’s mutual. Whattaya say we finish this so we can go have some real fun?” he purrs as she motions for Molly to bring it with both hands. Molly nods, grinning wickedly, before she lunges at the topless statuesque blonde. Savage wasn’t expecting it, but is barely able to sidestep the clumsy grasp, ducking and grabbing Molly’s right arm. As Savage pulls the ripcord, Molly gasps as she’s suddenly pulled into a cobra clutch that quickly becomes a variation of her signature Black Noise uranage backbreaker.
BLACK NOISE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0RWPOYIjwO0
Molly slides off of Savage’s knee, yelling out in pain. The Blonde Bomber then backs up a few steps, waiting for her moment to strike. Pushing herself up onto her haunches from all fours, Molly is quickly put onto her back with a running big boot from the bruising biker. Seeing her friendly adversary looming over her, Molly puts up a hand in front of her to try and placate Savage.
“Belay…” she manages to sputter out, “belay...Let’s parley, here...before ye do somethin’ we’ll both regret.”
“Sorry…” Savage shakes her head as she kneels down to get nose to nose with her, “we both knew only one of us could walk out of here a winner.” With that she clasps her hands behind Molly’s skull and pulls them into her massive bosom, smothering the redhead to the raucous approval of the crowd. “You treated me to an up close and personal look at your cannons, Molly...Only fair I return the favor. Only difference is, you ain’t gettin’ free!” As Molly shrieks into Savage’s chest and flails, she slowly realizes the truth of the blonde’s words. Her hands are locked tight, her head isn’t going anywhere, in spite of the slick mix of oil and sweat drenching both of their voluptuous bodies. Molly quickly comes to the conclusion that she has two choices: Tap, and save a little bit of her dignity; or be stubborn and sleep with the fishes. The pat-pat-pat of her hand on Savage’s backside signals her final decision as Long quickly calls for the bell.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!! Your winner, via submission...SAVAGE!!!”
The crowd roars in appreciation of one of the racier oil matches they’ve seen in awhile as Savage quickly releases Molly, her clutch at the back of the pirate’s head becoming a cradle, as she sets her down gently. The two of them smile at each other, sharing a little moment between them, before Savage finally speaks up.
“I’m glad you tapped…” she says as she takes her hand to pull her up to a seated position, “I was hoping I wasn’t going to have to put you to sleep.”
“Aye…” Molly replies with a twinkle in her eye, “though, truth be told, there be many, far worse ways to go.” They share a chuckle before returning to the matter at hand, “So, what d’ya say, lass? Might ye and Feral be up for spendin’ a night in the Captain’s quarters?” she asks with a smirk.
Savage licks her lips, making her answer obvious, “Ohhh, yeah...Feral will have to be...persuaded...But I think I can convince her.” she answers with a wink.
“Ahhh, splendid!” the Dread Pirate chirps, sliding a hand across Savage’s bare back, sending a tingle up the blonde’s spine, “I’ll have me cabin boy put me finest spirits on ice, and tell him to fire up the hot tub before he takes his leave for the night.”
Savage gasps and blinks, “Hot tub?”
“Aye,” Molly answers with a grin, “a pirate I may be, but this be not the eighteenth century. I like to live the high life with the spoils of me conquests! I’ve got me a penthouse apartment not three blocks from here, with all the luxuries you and yer luv could ask for!”
Savage grins back at Molly, her mind flooding with the possibilities of the night before them, “Y’know? I think it just got a lot easier to convince Feral to join us…”
Molly grins, “Thought so…” she then leans in and gives her conqueror a sweet kiss on the cheek, “Now, go give yer fans a victory lap, me lovely. Ye’ve earned it! I’ll catch up with the two of you in an hour, aye?”
She smiles and nods, “Aye aye, Cap’n!” With that, both women get to their feet, Molly raising Savage’s arm in victory and giving her a pat on the back as she walks away. Savage meanwhile takes that aforementioned victory lap, waving to the fans and posing for them. Remembering that she tossed away her bikini top, she cups her large breasts and gives them a playful shake for the fans, and does a little shimmy to make them jiggle to the raunchy glee of the FAWN Faithful. She then throws the horns with both hands, which is reciprocated by many in the audience, as she makes her exit from her first (but certainly not last) foray into the Oil Pit.
********
Jumping right back on the oily horse, Elizabeth Cromwell, having fallen flat on her face in her attempt to unseat the Dubai Diva, Zoë Scott, as FAWN Lightweight champion, was back in the Pit to reclaim momentum she'd discovered in the greasy fightscape. But the freckled fighter had found the going surprisingly sticky against fellow Brit Honey Harris. After a particularly humbling experience against Yoona Park, as most losses to the Eurasian champion were, Honey receded to The Jungle for more seasoning.
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
HONEY HARRIS:
The taste of the seasoning so far tonight was salty as Harris had been up more than down against the increasingly flustered Lizzie. The blonde rode Cromwell like a collegiate grappler, Honey tight to the auburn-haired Englishwoman's back, one arm circling the BSP's tummy, the other tight to the inside of Lizzie's near elbow. Though Honey wasn’t accumulating any 'riding time', she's forcing Elizabeth to carry her mass and wearing down the huffing, puffing, glistening Liverpudlian. Harris dug her chin into the nape of Cromwell's neck and made her hug a double-arm variety, trying to squeeze more of the life from the one-time phenom and Lightweight title holder.
“Unseemly trollop.” Lizzie grimaced as Honey did unpleasant things with the point of her chin. “You’re going to wish you were still freezing your arse off in Bangor by the time I’m done with WHOOOOOFFFFFHHHH!”
Harris powered to her knees, thus forcing Cromwell to do the same. This was followed by an energetic bit of rag-dollery with the Young Lioness cast in the roll of ‘Raggedy Lizzie’ much to her chagrin. Eventually Honey slowed the pace, though this was only a respite in that it took her a bit of scooting and sliding to get ‘em over to the gleaming blue wall of the Pit. “You’re doing an awful lot of talking for a chick on the losing end of a Bear Hug.” Harris muttered. “Frankly I’m tired of hearing it, but if you wanna keep running your mouth you can say it to the wall.”
Disgusted by the confidence in the blonde’s voice, Cromwell dug her talons into the side and tried to pull / slide her way out of the other wrestler’s grip. “I’ll speak to you whenever and however I please, you miserable little NNNNNNGGGGGHHHH!”
Honey reared back, then powered forward, all the better to SMECK Lizzie’s face, chest and tummy against the wall. “I said I don’t want to hear it!” Harris repeated. “Oh, and consider this payback from earlier.” Halving her Hug, Honey buried a hand in Cromwell’s hair, wedged her cheek against the side of the Pit and indulged in the rarely seen but extremely effective vertical face scrub!
Cromwell tried to return some trash talk but with her cheek pressed tight to the Pit wall it came out as an unintelligible burble. Lizzie threw an elbow blindly behind her but Harris caught it before it connected. She chicken-winged the limb and quickly did likewise with Elizabeth's opposite number. Honey swung the redhead away from the wall then swept her back in, banging the Boarding School Princess against it. With minimal padding, the impact rocked the already reeling Lizzie and when Harris heaved Cromwell toward the middle, releasing in a sort of discus throw, the blonde watched Lizzie lose her footing and faceplant dead center.
The crowd roars its approval, still bitter about how Elizabeth had turned against the Upstart Supreme, Sammie Sinclair. Honey's after her countrywoman quickly, leaping above the facedown, splayed Cromwell, dropping a knee into the base of Lizzie's shiny spine. The self-proclaimed Best Brit yelped in anguish, arching her vertebrae in response to the pain. In her red-white-and-blue bikini, Cromwell tried to slither out from beneath the point of Honey's knee.
“Where do you think you’re going, girl?” Honey asked after she’d filled a hand with the other Briton’s hair. “We’re not finished roughhousing yet!” she emphasized this point by yaaaaaaaaaaanking on Cromwell’s shoulder-length locks.
“Cheap bytch.” Lizzie groaned. “If we were in the ring I’d have NNNNNNGGGGGHHH!”
Harris cupped her free hand under Elizabeth’s chin and pulled back, wrenching her foe’s neck with an impromptu Camel Clutch. “If we were in the ring you would’ve already found half a dozen shortcuts, then you’d have whined about the ref being biased when he called you on your crap.”
Snarling in pain, anger and a whole lotta frustration, Lizzie didn’t just claw at the blonde’s encroaching forearm, she GOUGED at it. “Shut your mouth, just shut your bloody mouth why don’t NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH!”
Honey, proving herself a quick study in the relaxed environs of the Pit, bounced Cromwell’s noggin against the floor no less than half a dozen times, then doubled down on the hair-hold for an energetic round of more traditional scrubbing! Lizzie enjoyed this treatment just as much as the previous (which was to say, not at all) and her mood grew even more bilious when Honey spun around in a half circle and quickly collected both ankles. Butt resting snug in the hollow of Cromwell’s back, Harris tucked opposing shins beneath her armpits and leaned back to complete a particularly snug Boston Crab.
Already situated for maximum curvature of Cromwell's backbone, Harris used the oil to slide her derriere up Lizzie's back, bringing the captured legs with her. Elizabeth howled in anguish as the blonde continued to push her advantage on the flagging BSP. Growing more desperate, Cromwell tried to reach behind her and latch onto some piece of her fellow Englishwoman. And while her fingers did trickle over Harris' hammies, she couldn’t get a good grip on the slippery stems. Instead, Lizzie turned her attention toward locomotion in the forward direction, struggling with the greased plastic to pull out the back door.
Despite Honey's best efforts, the oil worked in favor of Cromwell's escape. Feeling the arc in her foe's back lessen and Elizabeth's groaning lowering in volume, Honey cut short her Crab, letting her foe's limbs slip from her grasp. She turned and held her position, watching intently as Elizabeth slithered to the wall, Cromwell turning when she reached her goal to sit against the vertical plane, knowing she couldn’t be attacked from the rear. But what Honey could do was charge from the front. Cromwell's eyes widened as Harris kept her feet, shooting across the oily plastic at a near-full sprint. Honey forward flipped into a Senton-like splash of Elizabeth's chest and face. Blasted, Lizzie timbered to a shoulder in a daze while Honey scrambles to her feet to an ovation, the time at The Jungle obviously having done her good.
Honey paused to acknowledge the cheers, albeit briefly. Much as she wanted to join in the crowd’s celebration, she didn’t quite dare until the Young Lioness was totally de-clawed. To that end she hurried over to Lizzie, grabbed a double handful of hair and hauled her to verticality. This arrangement didn’t last long as Harris doubled the other Brit over to stuff her noggin between oil-slicked thighs for a Standing Headscissors. Lizzie protested with some ineffectual wriggling, but Honey quashed this by simply wrapping her arms around the redhead’s waist while she backpedaled to the center of the Pit. Once there she relinquished the Waistlock long enough to SLAP both hands against Cromwell’s tush, a saucy little flourish that did nothing but strengthen her burgeoning fan-base.
From there she reapplied the Waistlock, dipped her knees and let out a breathy little grunt as she muscled Elizabeth up onto the ball of her right shoulder for a spine-wrenching Canadian Backbreaker!
“AAAAAAAWWWWWWW GAAAAAAAAAAHD!” Lizzie shrieked as Harris bounced up ‘n down to exacerbate the strain on her already aching vertebrae.
“Give up, sweetie!” Honey dug her knotted fists into the BSP’s tummy to make things all the more uncomfortable. “Give up before I fold you in halAARRRGGGHHH!”
The FAWNatics were treated to the unfamiliar sound of Honey Harris wailing in agony, courtesy of the cruelly crooked fingers a desperate Cromwell had hooked into her mouth and nose. “Leggo you nasty slag.” the Lioness growled. “Leggo, leggo, leggo!”
Eyes tearing against the catty desperation of her foe, Honey tried to shake Cromwell's fingers out of her 'face holes' to no effect. Even a drop to her knees to displace some of Elizabeth's vertebrae with the Canadian didn’t do the trick. Cromwell's guttural groan sounded like she's reacting to being snapped in two, but her curled claws continue to dig and Honey had to throw the redhead away.
On her knees, Harris rubbed at her burning features with a palm while clearing her welled eyes with the back of the other hand. Somehow, perhaps working on a last shot of adrenaline, Cromwell's ambulatory and upright. She snagged Honey's wrists from behind and pulled the blonde's arms back. Sticking the meat of her right sole on the back of Harris' braincase she DROVE Honey Blossom's face into the Pit floor with a Curbstomp from a high-rise level.
Not only did Cromwell send Honey's mug crashing into the deck but Lizzie ground it into the blue plastic like she's butting out a stale cigarette. With Honey flattened on her chest and face, the catfighter from Liverpool grabbed double handfuls of Honey's flaxen locks and planted two bare feet in the small of her foe's back. With wild abandon and revenge on her mind, not to mention her Prep School Pull being perfectly legal in the Pit, Cromwell leaned back in her cruel version of a Durfboard, Honey worriedly yelping from the burning in her scalp and growing anguish in her spinal column.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH STAAAAAAAAHHHHHP!” Honey wailed in stunned, almost incredulous anguish, such was the swiftness of her reversal of fortune. Pinned liked a bug beneath the spikes of Cromwell’s heels, her neck wrenched back at a hateful angle that only grew worse with each passing second, the blonde ingénue swatted at Lizzie’s forearms, rocked her hips from side to side, but couldn’t find a way out of the PSP.
Above her, Cromwell bobbled in place and wrenched the other wrestler’s head from side to side, putting even more strain on her neck. “GIVE UP, BRAT!” the Young Lioness demanded. “OR I’LL RIP YOUR HAIR OUT AND FEED IT TO YOU!”
“NUUUUHHHHH…. NO!” Honey waggled a finger to make sure the ref and the fans knew she was still in the fight. “I WON’T OOOOOOOOHHHHHH GAAAAAAHH!”
Cromwell kicked her feet forward and landed with her butt THUMPING into Harris’ rapidly softening spine. In the same breath she hooked her shins in under Honey’s jaw, crossed her ankles and leaaaaaaaaaaaaaaned back as far as gravity would allow. “WHAT WAS THAT, LITTLE GIRL? I COULDN’T HEAR--”
Honey reached out and swatted the Pit floor with both hands, then reached back and slapped Lizzie’s calf to make sure there was no mistake.
Releasing her grip as soon as the bell sounded, Cromwell tumbled to her belly and stayed there for a good five seconds before making it to one knee. “Thuuuhhhh… that’s right.” Lizzie said between rasping gasps. “Buuuhhh… best Brit ever… and don’t you forget it.”
The words were said with conviction and there was no doubt Lizzie meant ‘em, but one glance at her face was enough to confirm what she and the audience already knew… Honey Harris was a Brit to watch.
********
Coming up short in the cage battle to wrest the lightweight title from Zoë Scott, Strawberry decided to jump back on an oily horse in tonight’s Pit battlefield in Kissimmee. And the Upstart showed no fear, entering against a hot property in California Quake Kat Braddock. Though the Brat emerged on the wrong end of a war against Kylie Sanders, she’d since established herself in the oil with a convincing triumph over Cosette LeBlanc. The power packed, flaxen-haired fireplug likewise used her thick frame to bully the flexible, slender beauty in the early going and, after ten minutes of near domination, looks like she’s going to slide to an easy win.
KAT ‘THE BRAT’ BRADDOCK:
CHLOE FIELDS:
Kat rode the back of the flattened Chloe in a full body plaster, Braddock in a flattering green bikini showing off her curves, Fields in her trademark pink. Braddock latched onto Chloe’s dark locks and swept Fields’ face from side to side across the greasy blue plastic of the Pit floor. “Steroids couldn’t give you the muscle you need to beat me,” Chrissy’s Cali find growled at the grunting Strawberry, Fields trying to break free but unable. Kat drew the Upstart’s noggin back and THUMPED it into the light padding under the plastic.
“Zoë ain’t nothin’ compared to me,” Kat informed Chloe, as Braddock began snaking her arms around ‘berry’s braincase, weaving one of Fields’ arms within the knot, trying to secure a Cobra Clutch and send the brunette to dreamland.
Braddock secured the Half Nelson easily enough, but the back mount actually made it rather difficult to reach under the brunette, especially with Fields squirming like a downed power-line. Irritated by resistance, Kat clambered to both knees, curled her free hand into a spade and raaaaaaaaaaked it down her adversary’s back. “Want more of that, small fry?” she sneered. “Then give me your skinny little arm!”
Not about to do give into this preening brat, ‘Berry shifted in the mount as best she could, all the better to drive the point of her elbow into the meat of Braddock’s left thigh. “Pound sand, dummy! You wanna beat me, you’ll have to do it the hard NNNNGGGGHHH!”
Kat snatched a massive handful of Chloe’s ponytail, wrenched her noggin back and then THUNKED her forehead into the slippery floor of the Pit. “Keep it then, bytch. Why should I have to settle for your arm when I can crush your pathetic little bod?”
Eager to answer this question with action, Kat got to her feet and sauntered to the far side of the Pit, the pneumatic blonde ingénue making sure to show off the curves that’d bury soon bury this simpering moppet. The FAWNatics didn’t care for this prophecy very much, so Braddock flipped ‘em off, then bounced in place to send a few tremors through the Pit before she rushed down her own back-trail and leapt into the air for a low flying Frog Splash that’d-- SPLATHWHAP!
Chloe rolled toward her attacker at the last possible moment, leaving Kat to land on a recently vacated and utterly unwelcoming patch of gleaming floor.
The discomfort registered in the Brat's hazel eyes. The empty landing wasn’t quite the mistake it would be in the ring but there's still a sting to the impact and the same for having been suckered by stick girl. Kat rose to her haunches and rubbed her reddened tummy. Meanwhile, a risen Chloe raced in from Braddock's six. She latched onto Kat's cranium on the fly-by, landing on her taut little booty while SPIKING Kat's forehead into the Pit floor with a Bulldog. Braddock absently flopped to her back from the force of the blow and Strawberry scrambled atop the sassy rookie in a full body pin.
Fields slipped her lower limbs around those of the blonde in dual Grapevines and stretches Braddock's shorter legs wide. "At least your nickname is truth in advertising," Fields admitted. The Upstart swept a backhand grip behind Kat's neck, pulling her foe's head forward and chin down, trying to wear the sturdy Cali girl down with a Guillotine.
Braddock grimaced as Chloe streeeeetched her legs with the Grapevine, but the Guillotine wasn’t sunshine and rainbows either. Grimacing as she tried to pull her head free from the brunette’s grasp, Kat flattened her hands into paddles and CRAAACKED Fields’ flanks half a dozen times. “Get offa me, twiggUUUUGGGGGHHH!”
Chloe stretched the Brat a little wider, raised her hips and drove them Braddock’s gulping tummy. “Maybe you should knock the ‘tude outta your voice before you make requests, hmmmh?”
“Nuuhhh… not a request, bytch. It’s a demanEEERRRRGGGGHHH!”
Fields jostled the blonde’s head back ‘n forth, back ‘n forth, a ferocious little terrier shake to make sure curvy crusher knew she wasn’t in control of the situation. “Watch your mouth, Brat!” Chloe demanded with uncharacteristic sternness. “Unless you want to see what happens when an Upstart gets angOOOOOOOFFFHHHHH!”
Braddock wrapped her arms around the brunette’s trim midsection and squeeeeeeeeeezed until Fields’ dark eyes went wide. “So you want a contest?” Kat growled. “Fine baby, let’s see who holds on the longest!”
Kat's little biceps bulged as she cinched her arms tight around the tawny, glistening abdomen of the Upstart. Stubbornly, Fields tightened her grip and widened her legs. But suddenly a soft mewl escaped the former Cirque du Soleil's performer's lips and her Guillotine grip loosens. Panicking as her breath continued to be forced out as soon as it comes in, Chloe released altogether and tried to pry her arms under the powerful embrace of the curvy Quake.
A plaintive 'stahhp' under Chloe's breath only prompted Braddock to close the noose tighter and Strawberry gave up her 'vines as well. She pushed at Kat's shoulders, trying to break loose. "That's right," Braddock grunted. "But too little, too late." Fields arched in her attempt to create slack and free herself but The Brat was unrelenting. Deciding to take the more direct approach, Chloe SLAMMED a right forearm into Braddock's left temple, determined to loosen the blonde's breathtaking embrace enough to slide her oil-coated frame out of Kat's girdle.
Braddock growled, clenched her teeth and poured even more power into the Bear Hug. “What did I say, shrimp? Too little! Too latNGH! NGH! NGH!”
Chloe planted her non-bludgeoning hand against the blonde’s chest and let loose with three more Forearm Smashes, each aimed at the side of her opponent’s head. Give the Brat her due, she soaked them up without complaint, but Chrissy had trained her not to take undefended shots if she could avoid it, so the Californian popped her hips and rolled over to switch positions with the startled brunette. From there she reared back on her knees, which allowed her to haul Fields into a tummy on tummy clen--
“OOOOHHHHHH!” Kat’s features crumpled in nauseated surprise when Chloe threaded her legs around the blonde’s waist and bore down with all her might!
“Still think this is over?” Fields grunted. “I think we’re just getting started!” To that end she hooked an arm around the back of Braddock’s noggin, all the better to keep her in place while she unleashed a barrage of short, stiff Forearm Smashes!
Upstart Nation roared to life as Kat's head pivoted more and more with each blow. Fields' sinewy thighs continued to flex, pressing into the midriff of the curvy blonde. As strong as Kat's hug was, Braddock's arms were tiring and the feeling of HER abs pinching in pain from Strawberry's Scissors made keeping the embrace in place all the more difficult. Giving up her Hug, Kat used her arms to bracket her head from the battering blows of the Upstart.
But while her temples were protected, Chloe found another avenue. Using the grip behind the Quake's braincase, Fields drew the blonde's head forward as she shot her own to meet Kat's, Headbutting Braddock between the eyes. Kat's peepers went glassy and her arms wobbled before falling to her side. Not wanting Kat's considerable cleavage to collapse upon her, Chloe barrel rolled her way topside, keeping the Scissors in play while pulling Kat to a seat and ending in the blonde's lap.
With Braddock in a daze, Chloe unhooked her Bodyscissors and slide the slippery stems to the bobbling noggin of the Brat. Chloe clamped her tawny thighs into the cheeks and temples of her foe, locking her ankles behind while pulling Kat's chin to the juncture of her thighs. Palms of the Pit floor, Chloe rose up, tightening her leg muscles like a vise around the head of the Cali blonde. "You ready to tap to a wimp?”
Cheeks flushed with more than just the strain of the Scissors, Braddock planted her hands against the floor of the Pit and bicycled her legs until she managed to scramble onto her knees. Doing so stacked Fields on her shoulders but the lack of pins in the oil meant the blonde was far more than three seconds from freedom. This didn’t seem to bother the Quake, as she coiled both arms around the brunette’s waist and slooooooooowly muscled her offa the floor past her hips, past her chest, all the way past her shoulders for what would surely be one helluva Power-NO!
Demonstrating a poise borne of battles against the most vicious names the Lightweight Division could offer, Chloe pounded a pair of Hammer Fists into the bridge of Kat’s nose, then popped her hips for a backward swing that ripped Braddock from her moorings and deposited her flat on her back! Fields’ improvised ‘Rana was just as useless for pins as Braddock’s Matchbook, of course, Chloe wasn’t thinking about a cover. With her gams framing the Californian’s pink mug, ‘Berry brought her thighs together and hunched over until her forehead was pressed against the slick floor! “Still gotcha, Bratty!” Chloe giggled as she squeezed and smothered at the same time. “Get out if you ca--NOPE!” Braddock grabbed for those bright pink bottoms, luckily Fields caught hold of her wrists and stretched those protesting arms in a wide ‘T’ shape. “Go on, see if you can throw a tantrum strong enough to get you outta this!”
Never expecting to be in such a precarious position, the curvy blonde jostled her rider as best she can but the flipping, disorienting trip to the Pit floor and the pressure of the Headscissors making her feel under water had the struggling Brat looking up at a giggling Upstart with worry. Kat willed her arms up to throttle Chloe but Strawberry had gravity and game play on her side and the limbs remained glued to the slippery plastic. Braddock could hear Chrissy's voice in her head, and how she couldn't allow an Upstart to show her up. Kat thrust her pelvis, grunting furiously.
Nothing.
Nothing but the feeling that Chloe, with her supposed stick legs, might squeeze the eyes from her sockets with the growing pressure. When Kat's vision started to darken, the busty blonde could do nothing in return but admit the impossible. Unable to tap, she raspily provides her verbal surrender, eyes welling at the bitter sight of a delighted Chloe gazing down on her framed face.
The CLANG of the bell struggled against the roar of the crowd, as did the Announcer when he called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission… CHLOE FIELDS!”
YEAH!” Chloe straightened up and shot both arms overhead in a gaudy, victorious ‘V’ that earned yet another round of incredulous cheering. Nodding appreciatively at the show of support, Fields let out a deep breath, then took a moment to tuck some hair behind her ears. From there she put her hands on her knees and looked down at Kat. “Probably stupid to waste my breath telling you to be nice.” she admitted to the exhausted, fuming blonde. “So instead I’ll warn you to watch your mouth the next time you’re in the ring…” Chloe reached down and tapped Braddock on the nose, “… or the Oil, with me. ‘Kay, sweetie?”
he Brat was too worn out to answer, so Fields bounced to verticality and quickly planted a foot atop those conquered curves while earning a whole ‘nother round of applause with a jaunty ‘Lookit the winner!’ double bicep flex.