Post by walkindude on Sept 14, 2019 13:42:31 GMT
Good morning friends,
Apologies for the delay for August's edition of the Oil Report, I've spent the last three weeks dealing with a combination of Dorian related prep and restoration. All is finally as it should be, and thus the fun can resume. Here are three of the more interesting encounters from last month, we hope you enjoy 'em.
~RF
*******
The Mitchells made the summer of Everyone’s Most Hated a disaster, Cynthia once and likely forever proving herself the better wrestler, forcing Kylie to submit within a wild Mortal Cyn atop a cage. And last month, little sis Skye blasted the Platinum Pixie in a rout the Sweethearts perpetrate against Hot & Bothered and the Kanes to keep the tag titles. Though any number of people in FAWN might rightfully claim to be Kylie Sanders’ kryptonite, the Mitchells made clear they’re a dynasty when it comes to Krypton’s periodic table. Thus, when Elizabeth Cromwell and Chloe Fields were pegged to be the top of the August oil card to become #1 contender for the bubble-blowing Oil Baroness at the Pre-Mania Pit stop the following month, and Skylar was tagged as a powerful gold-wearing lead-in to that match, Sanders made sure she’s the first in line to sign the dotted line.
KYLIE SANDERS:
SKYLAR MITCHELL:
As tonight’s Pit opener squished into its fifth minute, the energetic, slick youngster was making Kylie a doleful mop, Vanilla Chill no doubt wishing she’d left bad enough alone when it came to the Mitchells. Skye rode Kylie’s back, her pert chest on Sanders’ shoulderblades. The brunette’s arms latched in a Crossface grip, twisting the blonde’s noggin violently to the side. Mitchell widened her glistening ivory stems in her purple bikini bottoms, making sure the squirming Sanders, in her black with yellow-gold trim couldn’t use the baby oil to slip free of the domineering second-gen star.
“You just don’t learn, do you?” Skye grunted in Ky’s ear, the Hawkeye’s short silvery bob leaving her aural canal wide open for any manner of smack talk, mild though it may be. What’s not mild was another wrench of that Crossface grip and the brunette snakeed her legs around the pale stems of Chill for good measure, grapevining Sanders’ limbs wide.
The Pleasant Valley Pariah waggled a frantic ‘no, no, no!’ to make sure that the idiot ref and the mouth-breathing fans knew she wasn’t about to tap out to the ‘littlest Mitchell. “Yuuuuhhh… you’re the one that hasn’t learned anything, brat.” Ky growled as she tried to secure any sort of grip on the youngster’s encroaching forearm. “That gold around your waist doesn’t mean spit in here and your last name means even lesSSSEEERRRHHH!”
The slippery Sweetheart made a point of swiping her knotted fists back and forth across Sanders’ nose even as she craaaaaaaaaaanked back on her Carolina twist on the classic Dare Snare. “You don’t get to talk about my name.” Mitchell said with uncharacteristic coldness. “Not after you threw yours away to become an off-brand Portia VanBurOOOWWWWW!”
Kylie finally succeeded in chomping down on the meaty base of her attacker’s thumb, however the immediate escape she’d expected (read: hoped) for didn’t materialize as Skye endured the malicious chewing. Pretty face twisted with determination and not a little anger, the brunette relinquished the Crossface and converted it to a simple Chinlock. Wrenching her gnawed hand free a heartbeat later, Skye flattened it into a paddle and SLAPPED Sanders’ left ear hard enough to make the Iowan’s head ring!
Sliding to her knees to assume a heavier perch on the blonde’s lower back, Mitchell shook the sting out of her hand, then leaned forward again and slid her arms under the former World Champion’s biceps. “Let’s see you bite your way outta this, babe.” Feet planted on the Pit floor, Skye yanked up and leaaaaaaaaaaaaned back, the vengeful Sweetheart bending Kylie’s spine with an emphatic Full Nelson Camel Clutch.
Chill's spinal column curved in an ever-increasing arch, Skye leaning back in stages until she's nearly bridging. The Carolina Cutie forced Sanders to gaze into the blinding lights above the Pit, the heat of the lamps, making the oil warm and even more slick. From the rim above, the ref called out to the agonized blonde. "Whaddya say, Kylie?"
Ky grunted as she shook her head, less convincingly this time, then Sanders let out a squeal as Skylar touched the crown of her head to Kylie's hammies, the Iowan's frame turned into a disconcerting 'C' shape. "Ya already quit against Cynthia. Ya proved you can do it. Say it!" Skye insists.
Chill mewled pitifully but the magic words, as close as they might be, didn’t come and finally Mitchell released. Kylie's body snapped flat to the canvas, the oil on the blue plastic Pit floor splurshing under the aching veteran. Kylie always claimed the Pit was a gimmick gone wrong, but making Mitchell pay was too good to pass up.
Now Skylar's cruising.
Spinning her butt atop Kylie's slippery derriere, Mitchell transferred to a reverse straddle position, collecting each of Kylie's ankles and rising to a crouch. If she couldn't break Kylie's back and will going one way, maybe the opposite direction would do the job. And the glistening Skylar limboed into a back-cracking Crab. Kylie's hands sank into her silvery pixie cut, pulling the short strands to spread the pain, Skye proving the expert at submissions people might expect from someone growing up in a family of wrestling phenoms.
"You're a tough old girl, but you've got a breaking point. Let's see if we can't find it."
The crowd was more than willing to help Kylie look, as evidenced by the thunderous ‘TAP!’ chants they threw her way. Yet for all her flaws (and the ex-Corps in attendance could list a veritable litany) Kylie Sanders had never been a quitter and she continued to defy that damned chant in spite of the ever shrinking distance between her toes and the back of her skull.
Above her, Skye Mitchell continued to slide backward, though a quietly certain voice in the back of her head said that Sanders wasn’t ready to give in. Quashing it for the moment, the Sweetheart slid to one knee then rose to her full height to-- Kylie pushed up on her hands, tucked her chin snug against her chest and swung / skidded through her opponent’s legs to end up in front of the Tag Team Champ. Admittedly startled by the veteran’s nimble escape, Mitchell kept her cool AND her grip on Sanders’ stems to keep the blonde under control while she mulled her next--
“OOOOOHHHH YOU NASTY CHEAT!” Skye yowled in abject agony when Kylie sat up and secured her right hand between the brunette’s thighs.
“No cheating in the Oil Pit, brat.” FAWN’s Most Hated sneered at her suffering prey. “I’m surprised your slutty sister didn’t explain that to you before HEY WHOOOAAAANNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Straightening up despite the nauseating pain in her nethers, Mitchell laid out flat on her back to hurk Kylie up outta the oil with a slick Slingshot that sent the Pernicious Pixie soaring into SPLU-THWHAP! A mixed chorus of delight and sympathy as Kylie planted face, chest and belly-first against the high blue wall of the Oil Pit. She remained glued there for a heartbeat or two, then her legs gave out and she slid to her knees with a soft, ignominious squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak.
Skye shook off the vile (but could one really say unexpected?) attack from Sanders to her kitty. She turned to find Chill 'praying' to the Pit wall, forehead resting against it as she slumped to her haunches. "You're a one-trick pony at this point, aren't ya Vanilla?" Skye sent a soccer kick to the base of Sanders' spine that has the Platinum Pixie throwing her shoulderblades back in reflexive anguish. Mitchell grabbed her foe's greasy braincase and pulled Kylie to her feet but kept her flagging foe pushed tight to the wall, Ky eating oil from the side of the Pit.
Skye threw a forearm into the same tender attack point and Sanders yelped in pain. She swung around in a 180 with elbow pointed only for Skye to duck under and impale Chill's alabaster abs with a fist. Kylie's hazel peepers bulged as she raggedly gasped shortened breaths. As Skye rose, Kylie oozed down Mitchell, her arms loosely wrapping around the Carolina Cutie's thighs as the brunette claimed as much as she can grab from Kylie's platinum blonde bob. She tugged the Hawkeye's head back, forcing Ky to look up to the fan favorite's baby blues.
"I'm not going to drag this out," Skye promised. "Which is more than you deserve."
Kylie screeched in anger, her arms cinching around Mitchell's ivory stems. Powering up, the manic Sanders elevated the bundled lower half of her foe off the Pit floor. Kylie pivoted and SLAMMED Skye's spine into the wall behind her. Less cushioned than the floor, Mitchell's body rippled from the impact, a guttural groan emanating from her parted lips when Ky draws her back and used Skye as a battering ram once more.
Hands knotted just below the curve of Skye’s buns, Sanders thum-thum-thum-THUMPED the startled brunette into the slippery wall no less than half a dozen times. Eventually Mitchell managed to secure a Scissors and the resultant squeeze slowed the former World Champion enough for Skye to pound a few quick punches into her blonde’s pate. “Two choices, Ky.” the tag champ huffed. “You either put me down. Or I put you dowNNNNGGHHH WHOOOAAHH EEEERRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Sanders bounced her burden off the wall one more time, then backed off, pivoted around on one foot and snapped forward and down to THAWHUMP the Littlest Mitchell down flat with a resounding Spinebuster! The landing bounced Skye to a slumped seat within easy slappin’ distance, but Sanders stayed her hand and got to her feet instead. Backing off as quickly as the oil would allow, the Pleasant Valley Pariah suddenly charged in and lashed out with her right leg in a Penalty Kick that THWHACKED against the youngster’s sternum!
Stretched into a vulnerable starfish by the heavy strike, Mitchell closed her eyes against the harsh overhead lights and sucked in all the breath she could in hopes of-- “OOOOFFFFFFFFFHHHH!”
Sanders buried her heels in the brunette’s belly with a Mushroom Stomp that compounded Mitchell’s gut-shot anguish. “Oh, just shut the hell up!” Kylie scoffed to the jeering throng as she stomped away from the retching Southerner. “Did you idiots really think little sister had what it took to stop me? Well let me tell you something--” Sanders whipped around and went straight back at Skye. Dipping low on approach, she snagged the brunette at wrist and thigh and tumbled through a seemingly effortless somersault that brought her back to verticality with a squirming Skye draped across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry.
“She’s ALMOST as pathetic as all of you haters.” With that she went up on tiptoe and laid out on her left side to THWHUNK the back of Skye’s head and neck into the Pit floor courtesy of FAWN’s oiliest Chill Valley Driver.
ROLLING CHILL VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Knb22RdMRs
Kneeling in exhaustion next to the suddenly vulnerable brunette, Kylie forced herself into action knowing she couldn’t let a tick go to waste against any member of the ridiculously resourceful Mitchell clan. As Skye squished over to her chest, a risen Sanders mounted her foe in a reverse standing straddle. Collecting each of the Carolina Cutie's feet, Chill crossed Skylar's legs at the ankles so she had one handle instead of two. The Platinum Pixie then straightened instead of dipping into a crouch to get Mitchell on a more vertical plane. Once standing over Skye's shoulderblades, only then did the deceitful, elfin blonde, lower into an agonizing bridge. Sanders dropped the crown of her head to the Pit floor with her 'Chilled Crab Legs' secure and Skye shrieking in agony, Mitchell's back and legs bent and twisted in anguish-inducing positions.
CHILLED CRAB LEGS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHIcB8uQIf0
Able to balance on her skull, Kylie demanded Skylar surrender, almost seeming to hope more than command. But the incredible torque on Mitchell's vertebrae was much louder than the threat of the Platinum Pixie and after a dozen seconds of the brutalization, Mitchell could take no more, enthusiastically tapping, splashing oil outward from her plummeting palm strikes.
The ref called for the bell and perhaps surprisingly, Kylie instantly released and collapsed, her backside landing atop the back of Skye's cranium, forcing the brunette to eat oil. It's clear Kylie was enjoying survival more than any thoughts of revenge and indeed it's Skylar moving before the depleted Chill.
The Sweetheart pushed out from under the reclining Sanders and elevated to her knees, Kylie lying in the oil in front of her with a shit-eating grin aimed at Skye. "Good match, champ." she chuckled, raising her arms high and wide on the horizontal plane she inhabited. "But look who's better."
Skye's nose crinkled and it looked like she just might take some frustrations out but instead she only shook her head. "You remember who's the champ." Mitchell responded before heading to the lowered ladder, leaving Kylie to lie in the warm oil and enjoy her small piece of payback against Cynthia's sibling.
*********
CAITY MASON:
It’d been a long, dry (figuratively speaking) stretch of months for Lenore Lemarchand since she’d surrendered the crown of Oil Baroness to Gabby Mendoza in heartbreaking fashion. And though the Raven had sorely wanted to get back in the proverbial oily saddle more times than she could count, the constant threat of the Church of Eternal Midnight and her own blood feud with Adelaide Brewster had kept the longest reigning Baroness from even setting foot in her slippery domain… until tonight. Caity Mason, the ‘Best Coast’ catfighting phenom had come down to the Pit and laid down an open challenge for any woman in the locker room willing to get buried beneath her dangerous curves. Silence reigned for almost twenty seconds and Mason was about to expand her search to any of the busted-wannabe strippers in the audience when ‘Hush’ hit the speakers and the Kissimmee crowd came unglued. Looming Buried Alive match be damned, Lenore Lemarchand was in the mood to scrub a bytch all over the Oil Pit floor and that’s just what she meant to do.
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
Mason, already stripped down to a barely there red bikini, welcomed the former Baroness’ acceptance and the fight was on the instant Lemarchand’s toes touched the oil. The first ten minutes was far more catfight than traditional oil wrestling, as the brunettes kept their hands locked in the other’s hair while stomping around the snug confines to either bounce her foe’s head offa the wall of the Pit or to SLAP opposing mouth as hard as they could. Eventually the battle went to the ground and Lemarchand took control almost at once, the Raven snuggling in on Caity’s left with a Bodyscissors across the waist that had the catfighter groaning in breathless anguish. Of course Lenore couldn’t let it *just* be a Bodyscissors, which was why she repeatedly raaaaaaaaaaked her opponent’s high, haughty glutes and added in the occasional stinging wedgie for good measure.
Not that Mason was one to simply endure such punishment with quiet good humor, quite the opposite in fact. She squalled, scratched and squirmed through every second of it until she was able to break Lemarchand’s trap with a stern grip on the front of her waistband. Working the Inverted Wedgie like a part-time job, Caity wrested free and after a bit more tumbling ended up in quite the advantageous position with her legs threaded around Lenore’s biceps and the back of the Courtier’s head resting in her lap. Bouncing up and down to put even more strain on her rival’s biceps, Mason was all smiles as she casually plucked away the royal purple cups sheathing Lenore’s bounty.
“How did you EVER run this place?” Caity scoffed. “If you’d dared fight me while you were Baroness I would’ve finished you off just like--” she raised both hands as if to snap her fingers but instead she darted down, caught hold of Lenore’s nipples and twissssssssssssted as hard as she could!
Of course any match against the Raven was a chance for a signature win, even if slight, but in the Pit? Caity could bust out completely by busting the former Pit Boss out of her top and beating her. One task accomplished, Mason set about the other, dialing into her sweet spot with Lenore's nubs. Caity seemingly tried to twist them off and, while Lemarchand bit her lower lip, she refused to utter a sound. After all, she was the Baroness.
"You'll have to do better," Lenore grunted.
Unfortunately for the Raven's brood, Mason's ready to build on her advantage. Leaving the cattiness behind, for a moment at least, Caity snatched Lenore's near arm, two palms wrapping around the Courtier's wrist. As she scissored the right, Mason tried to dislocate the left, Lenore stretched out in a crucifix position, glistening, topless, ivory frame reflecting the glaring lights above. "You're in with a whole 'nother level of badass tonight, Courtesan," Caity hissed, tugging back on her lever, threatening to unhinge both her foe's elbow and shoulder. "Anna's been showing me some things. And frankly, I'm better at them."
Lenore shook her head ‘no’ both to deny the official’s inquiries and to question her opponent’s assertion. “Better than who?” she scoffed. “Anna? Please. Girl might need a personality transplant but she’s a better wrestler than you’ll ever EEERRRRGGGHH!”
Mason gave up one of her handholds to score Lemarchand from navel to sternum no less than half a dozen times. This she followed with another round of sadistic tweaking, Caity shifting from left to right and back again as she tried to break through the Fair & Radiant Maiden’s defenses. “Aren’t you supposed to fight Adelaide in like a week?” the Best Coaster mused. “Hope she’s not gonna be pissed that I humiliated you on some random house shoOHHHH HEY!”
Arms denied her, Lenore planted both feet and thrust up as hard as she could. It was hardly the most acrobatic escape of her career, yet it freed her arms from Mason’s grasp and she tumbled through to land atop Caity’s chest in a rough Crossbody. “Not a good idea bringing her up, slut.” Lemarchand snarled over a burst of energetic hand fighting that saw her trap one of Mason’s wrists in both hands while the catfighter’s other arm was trapped between her thighs. “Because when Adelaide’s on my mind all I can think about is the new and interesting things I’ll do to make her suffer. Things like this…”
Lenore freed one hand from the wrist-grip, reached down and dug crooked fingers into the scant triangle of fabric protecting her opponent’s crotch.
Mason went board stiff as Lenore invaded her very personal space, trying to dig through the red spandex, the baby oil giving the space age fabric a little more give, allowing the Raven to push and hook her talons deeper into Caity's kitty. The fish-hooking grasp forced a yelp out of Mason, experienced catfighter or no. She tried to shove Lemarchand off as part of a series of electrified spasms, each flashing when Lenore gouged deeper into Caity's crotch.
"You...you," Mason stammers, twisting her body amidst the anguish and desperation. "You're going to get worsAHHHHH!" Caity howls in agony as the Raven gave one final squeeeeze then pulls her hand out balled it and SLAMMED it deep between Caity's thighs. Mason's dark eyes bulged as a deep guttural groan escaped her lips.
Lenore allowed her foe to roll away and curl into a sobbing ball. The Black Courtier turned to the nearest lens. "Gabby!" Lenore pointed at Mason. "You" she mouthed. She turned her attention back to her foe and lined up a Soccer Kick to the skull but as her leg swung like a pendulum to crash into Caity's cranium, Mason shot her hands forward and wrapped them around Lenore's raised ankle before the Raven could finish her strike. Caity yanked backward, sending Lenore tumbling to her backside, more embarrassed than hurt. Mason, slid her way to a wall for protection, forcing Lenore to approach in plain sight as Caity tried to work through the throbbing from below.
Hurrying to her knees in the wake of the wiffed kick, Lemarchand closed in carefully, her hands raised to chest level to ward off any attacks from the-- Mason lashed out with a kick that would’ve split the Raven’s chin if she hadn’t swatted it aside at the last instant. A second kick grazed off her hip, but didn’t slow Lenore enough to keep her from getting all up in the Best Coaster’s busine--“NNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!”
Lemarchand threw her head back in surprise and pain when Caity ‘smecked’ those summer-tan thighs around her trim waist. “Mendoza? You’re really going to invoke that tween queen when you’re being eclipsed by MY hotness?” Mason sounded genuinely offended. “Bytch, I am going to enjoy cleaning this floor with your tears.” Lenore started to reply only to get cut off when Caity leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the other brunette’s waist. “Pathetic.” Mason scoffed as her bust dominated the Bear Hug and Lemarchand’s more modest curves. “I mean, we can’t really call it a tit fight if yours have already given up, can we?” She scrubbed her chest back ‘n forth, making it impossible for Lenore to ignore the grind.
“Wuuuuhhh… we’ll see how much fight they have when I’m AAARRRRHHH OOOOWWWW!”
Mason leaned in and chomped down on the side of her prey’s neck! Whether this be a direct nod to Lemarchand’s nemesis or simply her own proclivity for catty techniques, no one knew and really it didn’t matter did it? Knowing Caity’s motivations didn’t soften the former Baroness’ screams in the slightest.
Mason withdrew her incisors, leaving indentations though no blood. With Lemarchand rightly distracted, backpedaling a step, face etched in pain, Caity kicked Lenore's right leg wide with a shot to the inner part of the Courtier's knee. With the boulevard to broken dreams and pulverized pussies wide open, the Best Coaster drove a raised knee right down Grand Central, POUNDING it into the former Baroness. Lenore went bug-eyed, her knees knocking, Lemarchand sounding as if she might add vomit to the oily Pit floor.
"Did I cause you some indigestion, bytch?" Caity asked. The slinky brunette didn’t give the Raven a chance to answer. Scooping her arms under the curve of Lenore's ivory glutes, Caity lifted the Courtier off the slippery plastic and pivoted, tossing the Raven's sinewy frame into the Pit wall. Leaning into the oily edifice with both hands to the left of her foe, Mason showed the pain of Lenore's earlier attack is relenting. She shoved the underside of her foot beneath Lenore's chin and stretched her stems into a damn near perfect set of splits, Caity looking like she's putting together a resume tape for Leggs Inc. as she crushed Lenore's windpipe, pressing her fellow brunette tight to the wall like a bug on a card.
Lemarchand’s feet splattered and slid in the oil as she fought for purchase against the unrelenting pressure on her throat and chin. For a moment it looked as though she might succeed, then Mason dashed those hopes by reaching down for her own claw to Lenore’s vulnerable nethers!
“AAAAAAAWWWWWWWW FAAAAAAAAHHHHK!” Lenore sobbed as Caity repaid the earlier grip with eye-watering interest.
“Give it up, skank!” the catfighter demanded. “Your bony ass is no match for my overwhelming OOOOWWWW DAMMIT!”
Lemarchand finally prized Mason’s foot from her neck and made the other brunette pay by sinking her teeth into the slippery sole! Caity abandoned the claw and hobbled away, but not so far that she couldn’t tag Lenore’s bare bust with a stinging slap. “No more playing around now, bytch!” Mason snapped. “I’m going to smother you out and maul those tiny tits until you--” CRAAACK!
Lenore stung Caity’s girls with a two handed Overhand Slap, that she immediately followed with an identical, albeit underhanded version! Juggs ‘a jostle as she stumbled back a step, Mason hadn’t quite caught her balance when Lemarchand shoved off the wall and clamped down on a titty twister of her own! “Who do you think you’re talking to, bytch?” she snarled over the first sharp pinch. “This is still my Pit!” Lenore added validity to this claim by using her salacious grip to force Mason up on tiptoe.
With Mason's dark eyes beginning to pool from the stinging twists to her front-end weaponry, Lenore thrust a knee into Caity's navel, doubling Mason over. With her hands now free to venture, Lenore tugged the Best Coaster's skull between her thighs and clamped on a Standing Headscissors. It's not an easy task for the Black Courtier, considering the tenderness that remained, but Lemarchand fought through the pain in order to teach the wannabe a lesson. Wrapping her arms around the gulping, greasy waist of her foe, the Raven flipped Mason up her body, catching her in a seated position on her shoulders.
But instead of immediately Powerbombing Caity into the lightly-padded, blue plastic of the Pit floor, she swung her cargo toward the wall, SLAMMING temple and shoulder and hip into the side. Not once or twice but three times! Finally turning away from the wall with a glassy-eyed Caity in tow, Lenore heaved the dazed brunette to SQUERSH/CRASH atop the enclosure's floor. The impact drew the crowd to its feet and left a splattered Mason in a motionless, demolished spreadeagle, soaking in the oil, looking like she's the next course about to be cooked for the Raven's favorite meal.
Breathing hard after the rough, mean-spirited battle, Lenore stomped over to Caity’s head, swung around on one foot and dropped to her knees, all the better to engulf opposing nose between those purple-sheathed buttocks. Mason was too stunned to do much more than snuffle and squirm when her air became butt-filtered, though she found a new well-spring of energy once the Raven pulled aside that red top and began to twist in earnest.
“MMMMRRRRRRRPPPPPHHHHHH!” Caity wailed in muffled anguish. “HHHRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHH!”
“Can’t hear you!” Lenore taunted as she continued to pluck and pinch, tweak and tease. “You’re gonna have to speak up!” To better emphasize this order she puuuuuuuuuuulled on Mason’s nubs, the slow insistent tugging enough to lift Caity’s back out of the oil before she finally had enough and began slapping the oil with both hands.
Lenore let it go for a few seconds before she rose up on her knees and demanded, “Say it, Mason!”
“I give.” Caity gulped. “I give. Just get that bony ass offa my MMMMMRRRRPPPPPHHHHH!”
Lemarchand settled down for a bit of enthusiastic wriggling that didn’t stop until long after Mason had fallen still. Galvanized by this return to her favorite perch, the Raven fixed her attention on the nearest camera and said, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Gabs. Soon as I’m finished with Brewster, I’m taking back what’s mine.”
********
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
Liverpool’s Boarding School Princess sometimes seemed on an island amidst the Oil Pit dominance of the many Latinas who’d made the venue a haven. But after making Marisa Fuentes and Luisa Campos back to back bytches, the Scouser crowed about a three-peat in tonight’s #1 contender slip-n-slide to close the show.
CHLOE FIELDS:
For the first several minutes, the freckled redhead backed up every bombastic assertion, gutting her fellow would-be challenger Chloe Fields from the get-go. With an early invading knee Cromwell proceeded to keep the high flyer grounded in the oily blue plastic of the Pit floor, Strawberry’s face flushing as her fight to regain even terms continues to be blocked at every turn through bullying and bashing.
Currently riding the Latina’s back in a kneeling straddle, Elizabeth sank her nails into the matted ponytail of the brunette, yanking Fields’ head off the deck. She released and flattened her palm across the back of Chloe’s cranium then PIEFACED the Upstart’s dimpled mug into the oil, cute little beak SPLURSHING into the greasy goo.
“EAT IT,” Cromwell demanded, trying to mop up the slick substance with Chloe’s face, Fields sputtering and flailing, disgraced by the beaming Brit. Strawberry's own slippery success over Kat Braddock, Rose Evans and Ginnifer Chadwick profoundly in her rear view mirror at the moment.
“Nuuuuhhhh… NEVER!” Fields sputtered after managing to pull her face out of the oil. “You’re not gonna push me around this Pit, ElizabeAAAAAAARRGGHHH!”
Cromwell relinquished the ponytail control to slip both index fingers into her opponent’s mouth. Wrenching the former LW’s champ’s mouth back in an expression more suitable for October than late August, Lizzie sighed and said, “Does the feel like I’m pushing you around, peon? No, no it does not. If you took some time to work through the sugar-coated panic crowding your thoughts, you would understand that I’m actually much closer to tearing your fugly face off!” The Young Lioness emphasized this rather gruesome image by adding each middle finger to the nefarious hooking. Smiling sweetly as she clawed and gouged at the insides of her brunette’s mouth, Lizzie added, “Now, are you going to give up while still possessed of a modicum of dignity or will you force me to humiliate you the same way I did poor little Pearls?”
Lest Chloe or anyone else forget that particular indignity, Cromwell relinquished one of her hooks to reach back for a little pluck ‘n snap of Fields’ defenseless pink waistband.
“Yuuuhhh… you wouldn’t!” Chloe stammered around those encroaching fingers.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Dear me, I fear you’re hallucinHEYWHOOOAANNNNGGH!”
The Upstart caught hold of Cromwell’s wrist and popped it free of her mug, then tossed it aside and slid back out between Lizzie’s legs all in the span between heartbeats. Soon as she was on the Brit’s six she caught hold of Cromwell’s ankles and jerked her legs out from under, leaving the Boarding School Princess to THWUMP down flat on her chest and tummy! Chloe pounced on her at once, the pink-clad battler not exactly sure of her next move, save that she meant to keep Cromwell ‘berried’ beneath an Upstart avalanche.
Fields got as much air as she could manage, leaping into the air above Lizzie's spine and frog splashing down across the redhead's vertebrae in a Crossbody landing, forcing a burst of breath from the BSP. Strawberry snatched an arm and created a Chickenwing with the limb, drawing a yelp from the Englishwoman. On top for the first time in the oily battle, Fields sighed with relief while she wrenched on the arm.
"You were saying?" the Upstart asked before snagging the opposite number when Elizabeth tried to find a hold on her favorite handle, Fields' long dark ponytail. Sliding to a crouching, forward-facing straddle, her elbows hooked around Cromwell's, Chloe gave her innovative Underhook clutch a test. She leeeeaned back into a bridge, testing the ivory frame of the wincing brat. Soon, Elizabeth was yelping in pain, her dark eyes pointed to the rafters.
"Latinas do it better, gringa," Chloe informed, and Lizzie wasn’t in the best position to argue, grunting and groaning as she swiveled her hips and tried to unlock her arms from Chloe's. It’s Fields who changed the equation when she unfolded her legs from beneath to in front and Scissors her calves around the sides of Cromwell's throat, locking her ankles in front and turning the Pit into a house of horrors for the freckled fighter.
The innovative anguish of Fields’ ‘Strawberry Clamp’ had Lizzie squalling in misery and a great many FAWNatics chanting ‘TAP! TAP! TAP!’ Chloe herself wasn’t so certain the Brit was ready to concede just yet, but that didn’t stop her from crossing her ankles and leaaaaaaaaaaaaaaning back on the painful stretch to put that much more pressure on Cromwell’s neck and shoulders. “How do you like it, huh? How do you like it, ya big meanie?”
“Puuuuuhhh… piss off!” Elizabeth keened from the depths of her gammy prison. “You don’t have what it takes to beat meEERRRRMMMPPPGGGGHHH!”
Chloe abandoned the Scissors and drew her knees up almost to her chest so she could press the soles of her feet against the back of Cromwell’s noggin, which in turn forced the fuming Englishwoman’s face into the oil! “What was that?” Chloe giggled. “You’re starting to feel the burn from this Latina Hea--”
There was a loud ‘sploosh’ from behind her, and Fields felt displaced oil patter against her back. Confused, she started to look over one shoulder only to let out a surprised ‘EEP!’ as a pair of arms slipped around her waist.
Crushing down on the Waistlock that might as well have been a Bear Hug, Pandora hoisted Chloe off her prey and gave the brunette a violent shake. “Been hearing an awful lot about this Latina Heat.” the blonde colossus smirked. “Figured it was time I experienced it for myself.”
PANDORA:
Doe eyes bulging, Fields swung from side to side like a rag doll in the tanned arms of FAWN's Most Feared. The leader of the organization's most terrifying trio and tag team titleholders, The Three, Pandora pivoted and tossed the comparatively tiny Upstart into the Pit wall, Chloe SLAMMING in face and chest first and sliding down to pool in the oil at the wall's base.
A beaming Pandy in a shimmering, metallic gold bikini smiled at the splattered Fields. She raised her arms high and wide toward the jeering crowd as she sidled to a slowly rising Cromwell, Elizabeth unaware of the unrivaled specimen behind her. Pandora scooped Elizabeth up the rest of the way under her arms and with one swift heave, flipped Cromwell to a spot across her right shoulder, the Brit's front end draping down her chest. Spinning in the same direction she'd heaved Strawberry, Pandy charged to the wall next to Chloe and DROVE Elizabeth into the oily edifice ass over tea kettle, Lizzie's spine CRASHING into the wall.
Pandora then dropped the demolished redhead on the crown of her skull in a sort of release Piledriver. Cromwell remained in a headstand for a split-second before her legs dropped away from the wall and she SPLURSHED to a facedown position a few inches from the groaning Chloe, Cromwell unmoving.
Looking like a frightened, greasy deer in some bountiful, glistening headlights, Fields only became more awestruck as Pandora untied her top and let it fall to the floor. Chloe's feet pushed/skidded over the slippery surface. Finally, she made it to her feet with the help of the wall behind her. She turned to take a look and consider the possibility of an escape, but the Upstart set the thought aside, clenches her jaw and rushed the topless behemoth.
Give the brunette credit, she leapt at Panny with everything she had and damned if she didn’t manage to hook one arm around the interloper’s head to land a few awkward, albeit energetic punches… but then the former World Champion cinched her arms around Fields’ slim waist and sent her into a flailing frenzy with a single prolonged squeeze.
“Oooohhhhhh, what’s wrong?” Panny giggled in such a way that suggested she knew damned well what was wrong. “That heat not hot enough to get it done against a real woman?”
Chloe couldn’t manage a cogent answer which seemed to irritate the Destroyer. Halving the Bear Hug without so much as a word of warning, Pandora scooped Chloe up and draped her across her shoulders with the brunette looking up at the lights. Then she cupped a hand over Fields’ chin and another over one thigh so she could bounce and jounce in place, the crowd cringing in sympathetic anguish as Panny tried to snap her victim in half with a Torture Rack!
“Wanna give, candy ass?” the blonde chided after perhaps ten spine-wrenching seconds.
“Nuuuuhhh… NO! NO!” Chloe wailed. “CHEATERS NEVER PROSPER, PANDOWHOOOAAHH OOOOHHH CRAAAANNNNNNGGGGGHHH!”
Pandora earned a round of impressed cheers when she powered her burden (burden is probably overstating it, actually) straight from the Torture Rack to a Powerbomb stall. Grabbing hold of Chloe’s togs at each hip, Panny split the brunette’s cheeks with a Last Ride inspired wedgie that was promptly forgotten when the former World Champion twisted around and THAWHAMTHUMPED the Upstart down flat across Elizabeth’s gulping tummy! Chloe bounced on impact and landed directly beside her one-time opposition. It might’ve been poetic if Pandora hadn’t strutted away just to rush back the way she’d came and take to the skies for the biggest of Big Splashes, the Womanly Wonder just OBLITERATING both wrestlers beneath her curvaceous frame!
Pandora laid across the stilled wreckage of both Chloe and Elizabeth, chin placed in the crook of both palms, elbows on the Pit floor to prop. Some of the more cheeky in the crowd counted to 'TEN' as the blonde Amazon remained across what's left of the original combatants. After the count, Pandora slid to a full body-on-bodies pin, cupping her prodigious and freed bosom into the suckling lips of both women. As enormous as Pandora's assets are they couldn’t fully smother out both Chloe and Elizabeth and neither awakened from the feel of flesh on their lips in any case. Deciding she's done with her toys, Pandy pushed to her feet and calls for a microphone. She snatched it from the air and brought it to her creased smirk as she planted a sole on Chloe's crotch.
"THESE are the kind of women battling for a number one contender position? There's only one woman who owns any and every environment she chooses. Ring. Beach. Pit. These little wannabes have woken what every roster member fears, a motivated, no, pissed Pandora. I will be the Baroness. For Life."
Pandora tossed the stick aside, turned and SPLASHED both women across the abdomens, Chloe and Cromwell jackknifing softly, reflexively under the curvaceous blonde, thankfully for them, still not of their right faculties enough to feel the pain in their ribs they would later in the dressing room.
Pandy shoved off using the freckled carcass of Cromwell to rise. She kicked some oil onto the remains and demanded a ladder to make her exit from the Pit, allowing the FAWN staff to swab up what's left of the Upstart and the Boarding School Princess.
Apologies for the delay for August's edition of the Oil Report, I've spent the last three weeks dealing with a combination of Dorian related prep and restoration. All is finally as it should be, and thus the fun can resume. Here are three of the more interesting encounters from last month, we hope you enjoy 'em.
~RF
*******
The Mitchells made the summer of Everyone’s Most Hated a disaster, Cynthia once and likely forever proving herself the better wrestler, forcing Kylie to submit within a wild Mortal Cyn atop a cage. And last month, little sis Skye blasted the Platinum Pixie in a rout the Sweethearts perpetrate against Hot & Bothered and the Kanes to keep the tag titles. Though any number of people in FAWN might rightfully claim to be Kylie Sanders’ kryptonite, the Mitchells made clear they’re a dynasty when it comes to Krypton’s periodic table. Thus, when Elizabeth Cromwell and Chloe Fields were pegged to be the top of the August oil card to become #1 contender for the bubble-blowing Oil Baroness at the Pre-Mania Pit stop the following month, and Skylar was tagged as a powerful gold-wearing lead-in to that match, Sanders made sure she’s the first in line to sign the dotted line.
KYLIE SANDERS:
SKYLAR MITCHELL:
As tonight’s Pit opener squished into its fifth minute, the energetic, slick youngster was making Kylie a doleful mop, Vanilla Chill no doubt wishing she’d left bad enough alone when it came to the Mitchells. Skye rode Kylie’s back, her pert chest on Sanders’ shoulderblades. The brunette’s arms latched in a Crossface grip, twisting the blonde’s noggin violently to the side. Mitchell widened her glistening ivory stems in her purple bikini bottoms, making sure the squirming Sanders, in her black with yellow-gold trim couldn’t use the baby oil to slip free of the domineering second-gen star.
“You just don’t learn, do you?” Skye grunted in Ky’s ear, the Hawkeye’s short silvery bob leaving her aural canal wide open for any manner of smack talk, mild though it may be. What’s not mild was another wrench of that Crossface grip and the brunette snakeed her legs around the pale stems of Chill for good measure, grapevining Sanders’ limbs wide.
The Pleasant Valley Pariah waggled a frantic ‘no, no, no!’ to make sure that the idiot ref and the mouth-breathing fans knew she wasn’t about to tap out to the ‘littlest Mitchell. “Yuuuuhhh… you’re the one that hasn’t learned anything, brat.” Ky growled as she tried to secure any sort of grip on the youngster’s encroaching forearm. “That gold around your waist doesn’t mean spit in here and your last name means even lesSSSEEERRRHHH!”
The slippery Sweetheart made a point of swiping her knotted fists back and forth across Sanders’ nose even as she craaaaaaaaaaanked back on her Carolina twist on the classic Dare Snare. “You don’t get to talk about my name.” Mitchell said with uncharacteristic coldness. “Not after you threw yours away to become an off-brand Portia VanBurOOOWWWWW!”
Kylie finally succeeded in chomping down on the meaty base of her attacker’s thumb, however the immediate escape she’d expected (read: hoped) for didn’t materialize as Skye endured the malicious chewing. Pretty face twisted with determination and not a little anger, the brunette relinquished the Crossface and converted it to a simple Chinlock. Wrenching her gnawed hand free a heartbeat later, Skye flattened it into a paddle and SLAPPED Sanders’ left ear hard enough to make the Iowan’s head ring!
Sliding to her knees to assume a heavier perch on the blonde’s lower back, Mitchell shook the sting out of her hand, then leaned forward again and slid her arms under the former World Champion’s biceps. “Let’s see you bite your way outta this, babe.” Feet planted on the Pit floor, Skye yanked up and leaaaaaaaaaaaaned back, the vengeful Sweetheart bending Kylie’s spine with an emphatic Full Nelson Camel Clutch.
Chill's spinal column curved in an ever-increasing arch, Skye leaning back in stages until she's nearly bridging. The Carolina Cutie forced Sanders to gaze into the blinding lights above the Pit, the heat of the lamps, making the oil warm and even more slick. From the rim above, the ref called out to the agonized blonde. "Whaddya say, Kylie?"
Ky grunted as she shook her head, less convincingly this time, then Sanders let out a squeal as Skylar touched the crown of her head to Kylie's hammies, the Iowan's frame turned into a disconcerting 'C' shape. "Ya already quit against Cynthia. Ya proved you can do it. Say it!" Skye insists.
Chill mewled pitifully but the magic words, as close as they might be, didn’t come and finally Mitchell released. Kylie's body snapped flat to the canvas, the oil on the blue plastic Pit floor splurshing under the aching veteran. Kylie always claimed the Pit was a gimmick gone wrong, but making Mitchell pay was too good to pass up.
Now Skylar's cruising.
Spinning her butt atop Kylie's slippery derriere, Mitchell transferred to a reverse straddle position, collecting each of Kylie's ankles and rising to a crouch. If she couldn't break Kylie's back and will going one way, maybe the opposite direction would do the job. And the glistening Skylar limboed into a back-cracking Crab. Kylie's hands sank into her silvery pixie cut, pulling the short strands to spread the pain, Skye proving the expert at submissions people might expect from someone growing up in a family of wrestling phenoms.
"You're a tough old girl, but you've got a breaking point. Let's see if we can't find it."
The crowd was more than willing to help Kylie look, as evidenced by the thunderous ‘TAP!’ chants they threw her way. Yet for all her flaws (and the ex-Corps in attendance could list a veritable litany) Kylie Sanders had never been a quitter and she continued to defy that damned chant in spite of the ever shrinking distance between her toes and the back of her skull.
Above her, Skye Mitchell continued to slide backward, though a quietly certain voice in the back of her head said that Sanders wasn’t ready to give in. Quashing it for the moment, the Sweetheart slid to one knee then rose to her full height to-- Kylie pushed up on her hands, tucked her chin snug against her chest and swung / skidded through her opponent’s legs to end up in front of the Tag Team Champ. Admittedly startled by the veteran’s nimble escape, Mitchell kept her cool AND her grip on Sanders’ stems to keep the blonde under control while she mulled her next--
“OOOOOHHHH YOU NASTY CHEAT!” Skye yowled in abject agony when Kylie sat up and secured her right hand between the brunette’s thighs.
“No cheating in the Oil Pit, brat.” FAWN’s Most Hated sneered at her suffering prey. “I’m surprised your slutty sister didn’t explain that to you before HEY WHOOOAAAANNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Straightening up despite the nauseating pain in her nethers, Mitchell laid out flat on her back to hurk Kylie up outta the oil with a slick Slingshot that sent the Pernicious Pixie soaring into SPLU-THWHAP! A mixed chorus of delight and sympathy as Kylie planted face, chest and belly-first against the high blue wall of the Oil Pit. She remained glued there for a heartbeat or two, then her legs gave out and she slid to her knees with a soft, ignominious squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak.
Skye shook off the vile (but could one really say unexpected?) attack from Sanders to her kitty. She turned to find Chill 'praying' to the Pit wall, forehead resting against it as she slumped to her haunches. "You're a one-trick pony at this point, aren't ya Vanilla?" Skye sent a soccer kick to the base of Sanders' spine that has the Platinum Pixie throwing her shoulderblades back in reflexive anguish. Mitchell grabbed her foe's greasy braincase and pulled Kylie to her feet but kept her flagging foe pushed tight to the wall, Ky eating oil from the side of the Pit.
Skye threw a forearm into the same tender attack point and Sanders yelped in pain. She swung around in a 180 with elbow pointed only for Skye to duck under and impale Chill's alabaster abs with a fist. Kylie's hazel peepers bulged as she raggedly gasped shortened breaths. As Skye rose, Kylie oozed down Mitchell, her arms loosely wrapping around the Carolina Cutie's thighs as the brunette claimed as much as she can grab from Kylie's platinum blonde bob. She tugged the Hawkeye's head back, forcing Ky to look up to the fan favorite's baby blues.
"I'm not going to drag this out," Skye promised. "Which is more than you deserve."
Kylie screeched in anger, her arms cinching around Mitchell's ivory stems. Powering up, the manic Sanders elevated the bundled lower half of her foe off the Pit floor. Kylie pivoted and SLAMMED Skye's spine into the wall behind her. Less cushioned than the floor, Mitchell's body rippled from the impact, a guttural groan emanating from her parted lips when Ky draws her back and used Skye as a battering ram once more.
Hands knotted just below the curve of Skye’s buns, Sanders thum-thum-thum-THUMPED the startled brunette into the slippery wall no less than half a dozen times. Eventually Mitchell managed to secure a Scissors and the resultant squeeze slowed the former World Champion enough for Skye to pound a few quick punches into her blonde’s pate. “Two choices, Ky.” the tag champ huffed. “You either put me down. Or I put you dowNNNNGGHHH WHOOOAAHH EEEERRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Sanders bounced her burden off the wall one more time, then backed off, pivoted around on one foot and snapped forward and down to THAWHUMP the Littlest Mitchell down flat with a resounding Spinebuster! The landing bounced Skye to a slumped seat within easy slappin’ distance, but Sanders stayed her hand and got to her feet instead. Backing off as quickly as the oil would allow, the Pleasant Valley Pariah suddenly charged in and lashed out with her right leg in a Penalty Kick that THWHACKED against the youngster’s sternum!
Stretched into a vulnerable starfish by the heavy strike, Mitchell closed her eyes against the harsh overhead lights and sucked in all the breath she could in hopes of-- “OOOOFFFFFFFFFHHHH!”
Sanders buried her heels in the brunette’s belly with a Mushroom Stomp that compounded Mitchell’s gut-shot anguish. “Oh, just shut the hell up!” Kylie scoffed to the jeering throng as she stomped away from the retching Southerner. “Did you idiots really think little sister had what it took to stop me? Well let me tell you something--” Sanders whipped around and went straight back at Skye. Dipping low on approach, she snagged the brunette at wrist and thigh and tumbled through a seemingly effortless somersault that brought her back to verticality with a squirming Skye draped across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry.
“She’s ALMOST as pathetic as all of you haters.” With that she went up on tiptoe and laid out on her left side to THWHUNK the back of Skye’s head and neck into the Pit floor courtesy of FAWN’s oiliest Chill Valley Driver.
ROLLING CHILL VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Knb22RdMRs
Kneeling in exhaustion next to the suddenly vulnerable brunette, Kylie forced herself into action knowing she couldn’t let a tick go to waste against any member of the ridiculously resourceful Mitchell clan. As Skye squished over to her chest, a risen Sanders mounted her foe in a reverse standing straddle. Collecting each of the Carolina Cutie's feet, Chill crossed Skylar's legs at the ankles so she had one handle instead of two. The Platinum Pixie then straightened instead of dipping into a crouch to get Mitchell on a more vertical plane. Once standing over Skye's shoulderblades, only then did the deceitful, elfin blonde, lower into an agonizing bridge. Sanders dropped the crown of her head to the Pit floor with her 'Chilled Crab Legs' secure and Skye shrieking in agony, Mitchell's back and legs bent and twisted in anguish-inducing positions.
CHILLED CRAB LEGS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHIcB8uQIf0
Able to balance on her skull, Kylie demanded Skylar surrender, almost seeming to hope more than command. But the incredible torque on Mitchell's vertebrae was much louder than the threat of the Platinum Pixie and after a dozen seconds of the brutalization, Mitchell could take no more, enthusiastically tapping, splashing oil outward from her plummeting palm strikes.
The ref called for the bell and perhaps surprisingly, Kylie instantly released and collapsed, her backside landing atop the back of Skye's cranium, forcing the brunette to eat oil. It's clear Kylie was enjoying survival more than any thoughts of revenge and indeed it's Skylar moving before the depleted Chill.
The Sweetheart pushed out from under the reclining Sanders and elevated to her knees, Kylie lying in the oil in front of her with a shit-eating grin aimed at Skye. "Good match, champ." she chuckled, raising her arms high and wide on the horizontal plane she inhabited. "But look who's better."
Skye's nose crinkled and it looked like she just might take some frustrations out but instead she only shook her head. "You remember who's the champ." Mitchell responded before heading to the lowered ladder, leaving Kylie to lie in the warm oil and enjoy her small piece of payback against Cynthia's sibling.
*********
CAITY MASON:
It’d been a long, dry (figuratively speaking) stretch of months for Lenore Lemarchand since she’d surrendered the crown of Oil Baroness to Gabby Mendoza in heartbreaking fashion. And though the Raven had sorely wanted to get back in the proverbial oily saddle more times than she could count, the constant threat of the Church of Eternal Midnight and her own blood feud with Adelaide Brewster had kept the longest reigning Baroness from even setting foot in her slippery domain… until tonight. Caity Mason, the ‘Best Coast’ catfighting phenom had come down to the Pit and laid down an open challenge for any woman in the locker room willing to get buried beneath her dangerous curves. Silence reigned for almost twenty seconds and Mason was about to expand her search to any of the busted-wannabe strippers in the audience when ‘Hush’ hit the speakers and the Kissimmee crowd came unglued. Looming Buried Alive match be damned, Lenore Lemarchand was in the mood to scrub a bytch all over the Oil Pit floor and that’s just what she meant to do.
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
Mason, already stripped down to a barely there red bikini, welcomed the former Baroness’ acceptance and the fight was on the instant Lemarchand’s toes touched the oil. The first ten minutes was far more catfight than traditional oil wrestling, as the brunettes kept their hands locked in the other’s hair while stomping around the snug confines to either bounce her foe’s head offa the wall of the Pit or to SLAP opposing mouth as hard as they could. Eventually the battle went to the ground and Lemarchand took control almost at once, the Raven snuggling in on Caity’s left with a Bodyscissors across the waist that had the catfighter groaning in breathless anguish. Of course Lenore couldn’t let it *just* be a Bodyscissors, which was why she repeatedly raaaaaaaaaaked her opponent’s high, haughty glutes and added in the occasional stinging wedgie for good measure.
Not that Mason was one to simply endure such punishment with quiet good humor, quite the opposite in fact. She squalled, scratched and squirmed through every second of it until she was able to break Lemarchand’s trap with a stern grip on the front of her waistband. Working the Inverted Wedgie like a part-time job, Caity wrested free and after a bit more tumbling ended up in quite the advantageous position with her legs threaded around Lenore’s biceps and the back of the Courtier’s head resting in her lap. Bouncing up and down to put even more strain on her rival’s biceps, Mason was all smiles as she casually plucked away the royal purple cups sheathing Lenore’s bounty.
“How did you EVER run this place?” Caity scoffed. “If you’d dared fight me while you were Baroness I would’ve finished you off just like--” she raised both hands as if to snap her fingers but instead she darted down, caught hold of Lenore’s nipples and twissssssssssssted as hard as she could!
Of course any match against the Raven was a chance for a signature win, even if slight, but in the Pit? Caity could bust out completely by busting the former Pit Boss out of her top and beating her. One task accomplished, Mason set about the other, dialing into her sweet spot with Lenore's nubs. Caity seemingly tried to twist them off and, while Lemarchand bit her lower lip, she refused to utter a sound. After all, she was the Baroness.
"You'll have to do better," Lenore grunted.
Unfortunately for the Raven's brood, Mason's ready to build on her advantage. Leaving the cattiness behind, for a moment at least, Caity snatched Lenore's near arm, two palms wrapping around the Courtier's wrist. As she scissored the right, Mason tried to dislocate the left, Lenore stretched out in a crucifix position, glistening, topless, ivory frame reflecting the glaring lights above. "You're in with a whole 'nother level of badass tonight, Courtesan," Caity hissed, tugging back on her lever, threatening to unhinge both her foe's elbow and shoulder. "Anna's been showing me some things. And frankly, I'm better at them."
Lenore shook her head ‘no’ both to deny the official’s inquiries and to question her opponent’s assertion. “Better than who?” she scoffed. “Anna? Please. Girl might need a personality transplant but she’s a better wrestler than you’ll ever EEERRRRGGGHH!”
Mason gave up one of her handholds to score Lemarchand from navel to sternum no less than half a dozen times. This she followed with another round of sadistic tweaking, Caity shifting from left to right and back again as she tried to break through the Fair & Radiant Maiden’s defenses. “Aren’t you supposed to fight Adelaide in like a week?” the Best Coaster mused. “Hope she’s not gonna be pissed that I humiliated you on some random house shoOHHHH HEY!”
Arms denied her, Lenore planted both feet and thrust up as hard as she could. It was hardly the most acrobatic escape of her career, yet it freed her arms from Mason’s grasp and she tumbled through to land atop Caity’s chest in a rough Crossbody. “Not a good idea bringing her up, slut.” Lemarchand snarled over a burst of energetic hand fighting that saw her trap one of Mason’s wrists in both hands while the catfighter’s other arm was trapped between her thighs. “Because when Adelaide’s on my mind all I can think about is the new and interesting things I’ll do to make her suffer. Things like this…”
Lenore freed one hand from the wrist-grip, reached down and dug crooked fingers into the scant triangle of fabric protecting her opponent’s crotch.
Mason went board stiff as Lenore invaded her very personal space, trying to dig through the red spandex, the baby oil giving the space age fabric a little more give, allowing the Raven to push and hook her talons deeper into Caity's kitty. The fish-hooking grasp forced a yelp out of Mason, experienced catfighter or no. She tried to shove Lemarchand off as part of a series of electrified spasms, each flashing when Lenore gouged deeper into Caity's crotch.
"You...you," Mason stammers, twisting her body amidst the anguish and desperation. "You're going to get worsAHHHHH!" Caity howls in agony as the Raven gave one final squeeeeze then pulls her hand out balled it and SLAMMED it deep between Caity's thighs. Mason's dark eyes bulged as a deep guttural groan escaped her lips.
Lenore allowed her foe to roll away and curl into a sobbing ball. The Black Courtier turned to the nearest lens. "Gabby!" Lenore pointed at Mason. "You" she mouthed. She turned her attention back to her foe and lined up a Soccer Kick to the skull but as her leg swung like a pendulum to crash into Caity's cranium, Mason shot her hands forward and wrapped them around Lenore's raised ankle before the Raven could finish her strike. Caity yanked backward, sending Lenore tumbling to her backside, more embarrassed than hurt. Mason, slid her way to a wall for protection, forcing Lenore to approach in plain sight as Caity tried to work through the throbbing from below.
Hurrying to her knees in the wake of the wiffed kick, Lemarchand closed in carefully, her hands raised to chest level to ward off any attacks from the-- Mason lashed out with a kick that would’ve split the Raven’s chin if she hadn’t swatted it aside at the last instant. A second kick grazed off her hip, but didn’t slow Lenore enough to keep her from getting all up in the Best Coaster’s busine--“NNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!”
Lemarchand threw her head back in surprise and pain when Caity ‘smecked’ those summer-tan thighs around her trim waist. “Mendoza? You’re really going to invoke that tween queen when you’re being eclipsed by MY hotness?” Mason sounded genuinely offended. “Bytch, I am going to enjoy cleaning this floor with your tears.” Lenore started to reply only to get cut off when Caity leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the other brunette’s waist. “Pathetic.” Mason scoffed as her bust dominated the Bear Hug and Lemarchand’s more modest curves. “I mean, we can’t really call it a tit fight if yours have already given up, can we?” She scrubbed her chest back ‘n forth, making it impossible for Lenore to ignore the grind.
“Wuuuuhhh… we’ll see how much fight they have when I’m AAARRRRHHH OOOOWWWW!”
Mason leaned in and chomped down on the side of her prey’s neck! Whether this be a direct nod to Lemarchand’s nemesis or simply her own proclivity for catty techniques, no one knew and really it didn’t matter did it? Knowing Caity’s motivations didn’t soften the former Baroness’ screams in the slightest.
Mason withdrew her incisors, leaving indentations though no blood. With Lemarchand rightly distracted, backpedaling a step, face etched in pain, Caity kicked Lenore's right leg wide with a shot to the inner part of the Courtier's knee. With the boulevard to broken dreams and pulverized pussies wide open, the Best Coaster drove a raised knee right down Grand Central, POUNDING it into the former Baroness. Lenore went bug-eyed, her knees knocking, Lemarchand sounding as if she might add vomit to the oily Pit floor.
"Did I cause you some indigestion, bytch?" Caity asked. The slinky brunette didn’t give the Raven a chance to answer. Scooping her arms under the curve of Lenore's ivory glutes, Caity lifted the Courtier off the slippery plastic and pivoted, tossing the Raven's sinewy frame into the Pit wall. Leaning into the oily edifice with both hands to the left of her foe, Mason showed the pain of Lenore's earlier attack is relenting. She shoved the underside of her foot beneath Lenore's chin and stretched her stems into a damn near perfect set of splits, Caity looking like she's putting together a resume tape for Leggs Inc. as she crushed Lenore's windpipe, pressing her fellow brunette tight to the wall like a bug on a card.
Lemarchand’s feet splattered and slid in the oil as she fought for purchase against the unrelenting pressure on her throat and chin. For a moment it looked as though she might succeed, then Mason dashed those hopes by reaching down for her own claw to Lenore’s vulnerable nethers!
“AAAAAAAWWWWWWWW FAAAAAAAAHHHHK!” Lenore sobbed as Caity repaid the earlier grip with eye-watering interest.
“Give it up, skank!” the catfighter demanded. “Your bony ass is no match for my overwhelming OOOOWWWW DAMMIT!”
Lemarchand finally prized Mason’s foot from her neck and made the other brunette pay by sinking her teeth into the slippery sole! Caity abandoned the claw and hobbled away, but not so far that she couldn’t tag Lenore’s bare bust with a stinging slap. “No more playing around now, bytch!” Mason snapped. “I’m going to smother you out and maul those tiny tits until you--” CRAAACK!
Lenore stung Caity’s girls with a two handed Overhand Slap, that she immediately followed with an identical, albeit underhanded version! Juggs ‘a jostle as she stumbled back a step, Mason hadn’t quite caught her balance when Lemarchand shoved off the wall and clamped down on a titty twister of her own! “Who do you think you’re talking to, bytch?” she snarled over the first sharp pinch. “This is still my Pit!” Lenore added validity to this claim by using her salacious grip to force Mason up on tiptoe.
With Mason's dark eyes beginning to pool from the stinging twists to her front-end weaponry, Lenore thrust a knee into Caity's navel, doubling Mason over. With her hands now free to venture, Lenore tugged the Best Coaster's skull between her thighs and clamped on a Standing Headscissors. It's not an easy task for the Black Courtier, considering the tenderness that remained, but Lemarchand fought through the pain in order to teach the wannabe a lesson. Wrapping her arms around the gulping, greasy waist of her foe, the Raven flipped Mason up her body, catching her in a seated position on her shoulders.
But instead of immediately Powerbombing Caity into the lightly-padded, blue plastic of the Pit floor, she swung her cargo toward the wall, SLAMMING temple and shoulder and hip into the side. Not once or twice but three times! Finally turning away from the wall with a glassy-eyed Caity in tow, Lenore heaved the dazed brunette to SQUERSH/CRASH atop the enclosure's floor. The impact drew the crowd to its feet and left a splattered Mason in a motionless, demolished spreadeagle, soaking in the oil, looking like she's the next course about to be cooked for the Raven's favorite meal.
Breathing hard after the rough, mean-spirited battle, Lenore stomped over to Caity’s head, swung around on one foot and dropped to her knees, all the better to engulf opposing nose between those purple-sheathed buttocks. Mason was too stunned to do much more than snuffle and squirm when her air became butt-filtered, though she found a new well-spring of energy once the Raven pulled aside that red top and began to twist in earnest.
“MMMMRRRRRRRPPPPPHHHHHH!” Caity wailed in muffled anguish. “HHHRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHH!”
“Can’t hear you!” Lenore taunted as she continued to pluck and pinch, tweak and tease. “You’re gonna have to speak up!” To better emphasize this order she puuuuuuuuuuulled on Mason’s nubs, the slow insistent tugging enough to lift Caity’s back out of the oil before she finally had enough and began slapping the oil with both hands.
Lenore let it go for a few seconds before she rose up on her knees and demanded, “Say it, Mason!”
“I give.” Caity gulped. “I give. Just get that bony ass offa my MMMMMRRRRPPPPPHHHHH!”
Lemarchand settled down for a bit of enthusiastic wriggling that didn’t stop until long after Mason had fallen still. Galvanized by this return to her favorite perch, the Raven fixed her attention on the nearest camera and said, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Gabs. Soon as I’m finished with Brewster, I’m taking back what’s mine.”
********
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
Liverpool’s Boarding School Princess sometimes seemed on an island amidst the Oil Pit dominance of the many Latinas who’d made the venue a haven. But after making Marisa Fuentes and Luisa Campos back to back bytches, the Scouser crowed about a three-peat in tonight’s #1 contender slip-n-slide to close the show.
CHLOE FIELDS:
For the first several minutes, the freckled redhead backed up every bombastic assertion, gutting her fellow would-be challenger Chloe Fields from the get-go. With an early invading knee Cromwell proceeded to keep the high flyer grounded in the oily blue plastic of the Pit floor, Strawberry’s face flushing as her fight to regain even terms continues to be blocked at every turn through bullying and bashing.
Currently riding the Latina’s back in a kneeling straddle, Elizabeth sank her nails into the matted ponytail of the brunette, yanking Fields’ head off the deck. She released and flattened her palm across the back of Chloe’s cranium then PIEFACED the Upstart’s dimpled mug into the oil, cute little beak SPLURSHING into the greasy goo.
“EAT IT,” Cromwell demanded, trying to mop up the slick substance with Chloe’s face, Fields sputtering and flailing, disgraced by the beaming Brit. Strawberry's own slippery success over Kat Braddock, Rose Evans and Ginnifer Chadwick profoundly in her rear view mirror at the moment.
“Nuuuuhhhh… NEVER!” Fields sputtered after managing to pull her face out of the oil. “You’re not gonna push me around this Pit, ElizabeAAAAAAARRGGHHH!”
Cromwell relinquished the ponytail control to slip both index fingers into her opponent’s mouth. Wrenching the former LW’s champ’s mouth back in an expression more suitable for October than late August, Lizzie sighed and said, “Does the feel like I’m pushing you around, peon? No, no it does not. If you took some time to work through the sugar-coated panic crowding your thoughts, you would understand that I’m actually much closer to tearing your fugly face off!” The Young Lioness emphasized this rather gruesome image by adding each middle finger to the nefarious hooking. Smiling sweetly as she clawed and gouged at the insides of her brunette’s mouth, Lizzie added, “Now, are you going to give up while still possessed of a modicum of dignity or will you force me to humiliate you the same way I did poor little Pearls?”
Lest Chloe or anyone else forget that particular indignity, Cromwell relinquished one of her hooks to reach back for a little pluck ‘n snap of Fields’ defenseless pink waistband.
“Yuuuhhh… you wouldn’t!” Chloe stammered around those encroaching fingers.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Dear me, I fear you’re hallucinHEYWHOOOAANNNNGGH!”
The Upstart caught hold of Cromwell’s wrist and popped it free of her mug, then tossed it aside and slid back out between Lizzie’s legs all in the span between heartbeats. Soon as she was on the Brit’s six she caught hold of Cromwell’s ankles and jerked her legs out from under, leaving the Boarding School Princess to THWUMP down flat on her chest and tummy! Chloe pounced on her at once, the pink-clad battler not exactly sure of her next move, save that she meant to keep Cromwell ‘berried’ beneath an Upstart avalanche.
Fields got as much air as she could manage, leaping into the air above Lizzie's spine and frog splashing down across the redhead's vertebrae in a Crossbody landing, forcing a burst of breath from the BSP. Strawberry snatched an arm and created a Chickenwing with the limb, drawing a yelp from the Englishwoman. On top for the first time in the oily battle, Fields sighed with relief while she wrenched on the arm.
"You were saying?" the Upstart asked before snagging the opposite number when Elizabeth tried to find a hold on her favorite handle, Fields' long dark ponytail. Sliding to a crouching, forward-facing straddle, her elbows hooked around Cromwell's, Chloe gave her innovative Underhook clutch a test. She leeeeaned back into a bridge, testing the ivory frame of the wincing brat. Soon, Elizabeth was yelping in pain, her dark eyes pointed to the rafters.
"Latinas do it better, gringa," Chloe informed, and Lizzie wasn’t in the best position to argue, grunting and groaning as she swiveled her hips and tried to unlock her arms from Chloe's. It’s Fields who changed the equation when she unfolded her legs from beneath to in front and Scissors her calves around the sides of Cromwell's throat, locking her ankles in front and turning the Pit into a house of horrors for the freckled fighter.
The innovative anguish of Fields’ ‘Strawberry Clamp’ had Lizzie squalling in misery and a great many FAWNatics chanting ‘TAP! TAP! TAP!’ Chloe herself wasn’t so certain the Brit was ready to concede just yet, but that didn’t stop her from crossing her ankles and leaaaaaaaaaaaaaaning back on the painful stretch to put that much more pressure on Cromwell’s neck and shoulders. “How do you like it, huh? How do you like it, ya big meanie?”
“Puuuuuhhh… piss off!” Elizabeth keened from the depths of her gammy prison. “You don’t have what it takes to beat meEERRRRMMMPPPGGGGHHH!”
Chloe abandoned the Scissors and drew her knees up almost to her chest so she could press the soles of her feet against the back of Cromwell’s noggin, which in turn forced the fuming Englishwoman’s face into the oil! “What was that?” Chloe giggled. “You’re starting to feel the burn from this Latina Hea--”
There was a loud ‘sploosh’ from behind her, and Fields felt displaced oil patter against her back. Confused, she started to look over one shoulder only to let out a surprised ‘EEP!’ as a pair of arms slipped around her waist.
Crushing down on the Waistlock that might as well have been a Bear Hug, Pandora hoisted Chloe off her prey and gave the brunette a violent shake. “Been hearing an awful lot about this Latina Heat.” the blonde colossus smirked. “Figured it was time I experienced it for myself.”
PANDORA:
Doe eyes bulging, Fields swung from side to side like a rag doll in the tanned arms of FAWN's Most Feared. The leader of the organization's most terrifying trio and tag team titleholders, The Three, Pandora pivoted and tossed the comparatively tiny Upstart into the Pit wall, Chloe SLAMMING in face and chest first and sliding down to pool in the oil at the wall's base.
A beaming Pandy in a shimmering, metallic gold bikini smiled at the splattered Fields. She raised her arms high and wide toward the jeering crowd as she sidled to a slowly rising Cromwell, Elizabeth unaware of the unrivaled specimen behind her. Pandora scooped Elizabeth up the rest of the way under her arms and with one swift heave, flipped Cromwell to a spot across her right shoulder, the Brit's front end draping down her chest. Spinning in the same direction she'd heaved Strawberry, Pandy charged to the wall next to Chloe and DROVE Elizabeth into the oily edifice ass over tea kettle, Lizzie's spine CRASHING into the wall.
Pandora then dropped the demolished redhead on the crown of her skull in a sort of release Piledriver. Cromwell remained in a headstand for a split-second before her legs dropped away from the wall and she SPLURSHED to a facedown position a few inches from the groaning Chloe, Cromwell unmoving.
Looking like a frightened, greasy deer in some bountiful, glistening headlights, Fields only became more awestruck as Pandora untied her top and let it fall to the floor. Chloe's feet pushed/skidded over the slippery surface. Finally, she made it to her feet with the help of the wall behind her. She turned to take a look and consider the possibility of an escape, but the Upstart set the thought aside, clenches her jaw and rushed the topless behemoth.
Give the brunette credit, she leapt at Panny with everything she had and damned if she didn’t manage to hook one arm around the interloper’s head to land a few awkward, albeit energetic punches… but then the former World Champion cinched her arms around Fields’ slim waist and sent her into a flailing frenzy with a single prolonged squeeze.
“Oooohhhhhh, what’s wrong?” Panny giggled in such a way that suggested she knew damned well what was wrong. “That heat not hot enough to get it done against a real woman?”
Chloe couldn’t manage a cogent answer which seemed to irritate the Destroyer. Halving the Bear Hug without so much as a word of warning, Pandora scooped Chloe up and draped her across her shoulders with the brunette looking up at the lights. Then she cupped a hand over Fields’ chin and another over one thigh so she could bounce and jounce in place, the crowd cringing in sympathetic anguish as Panny tried to snap her victim in half with a Torture Rack!
“Wanna give, candy ass?” the blonde chided after perhaps ten spine-wrenching seconds.
“Nuuuuhhh… NO! NO!” Chloe wailed. “CHEATERS NEVER PROSPER, PANDOWHOOOAAHH OOOOHHH CRAAAANNNNNNGGGGGHHH!”
Pandora earned a round of impressed cheers when she powered her burden (burden is probably overstating it, actually) straight from the Torture Rack to a Powerbomb stall. Grabbing hold of Chloe’s togs at each hip, Panny split the brunette’s cheeks with a Last Ride inspired wedgie that was promptly forgotten when the former World Champion twisted around and THAWHAMTHUMPED the Upstart down flat across Elizabeth’s gulping tummy! Chloe bounced on impact and landed directly beside her one-time opposition. It might’ve been poetic if Pandora hadn’t strutted away just to rush back the way she’d came and take to the skies for the biggest of Big Splashes, the Womanly Wonder just OBLITERATING both wrestlers beneath her curvaceous frame!
Pandora laid across the stilled wreckage of both Chloe and Elizabeth, chin placed in the crook of both palms, elbows on the Pit floor to prop. Some of the more cheeky in the crowd counted to 'TEN' as the blonde Amazon remained across what's left of the original combatants. After the count, Pandora slid to a full body-on-bodies pin, cupping her prodigious and freed bosom into the suckling lips of both women. As enormous as Pandora's assets are they couldn’t fully smother out both Chloe and Elizabeth and neither awakened from the feel of flesh on their lips in any case. Deciding she's done with her toys, Pandy pushed to her feet and calls for a microphone. She snatched it from the air and brought it to her creased smirk as she planted a sole on Chloe's crotch.
"THESE are the kind of women battling for a number one contender position? There's only one woman who owns any and every environment she chooses. Ring. Beach. Pit. These little wannabes have woken what every roster member fears, a motivated, no, pissed Pandora. I will be the Baroness. For Life."
Pandora tossed the stick aside, turned and SPLASHED both women across the abdomens, Chloe and Cromwell jackknifing softly, reflexively under the curvaceous blonde, thankfully for them, still not of their right faculties enough to feel the pain in their ribs they would later in the dressing room.
Pandy shoved off using the freckled carcass of Cromwell to rise. She kicked some oil onto the remains and demanded a ladder to make her exit from the Pit, allowing the FAWN staff to swab up what's left of the Upstart and the Boarding School Princess.