Post by hawkeye on Apr 13, 2020 0:54:16 GMT
This year’s march was almost over, though there was one final stretch before the audience could add this malevolent marathon to their list of accomplishments. Knowing this, the Announcer stepped into the spotlight and proclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for our Main Event! The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN World Championship! Introducing first, she is the challenger. Hailing from Princeton, New Jersey, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds. She is the Inquisitor, the Queen of Broken Hearts…. TIFFANY MAYES!”
TIFFANY MAYES:
His words were answered by a jangling bell that quickly gave way to guitars and drums, the former cutting out a simple riff which the latter strengthened with a staccato stomp. The Church might’ve been gone but the Inquisitor’s anthem was the same, as was the FAWNatics reaction thereto, the sold out crowd jeering quite vociferously as ‘Heaven Knows’ played Mayes through the curtain. Greeting the heathens with the same disgust they showed her, Tiffany stretched her arms wide, then brought her hands together in a show of dedication to tonight‘s task. Once that baleful benediction was through, she showed an evil smile and started down the aisle with bad intentions obvious in every step.
For tonight’s exorcism, Miranda Wainright’s one time Queen of Hearts sported a bandeau bikini of black leather, as well as matte black pads at knee and elbow and shiny black wrestling shoes. Righteous according to the annals of Eternal Midnight, others might’ve called it sinful, though no one dared voice such a blasphemous opinion as she stalked by. Measured in her approach thus far, Tiffany abruptly exploded into a sprint when she reached the foot of the ramp. Going from the floor to the apron to the top rope in the span between heartbeats, Mayes turned to face the crowd, her arms spread wide once more. They still didn’t appear all that receptive to her beliefs, so the challenger flipped them off, then launched herself backward with a gorgeous flip that brought her down in the center of the squared circle.
Greeting Nick Castle with the same distinctive hand gesture, Mayes blew past the Senior Official though she did deign to offer her elbows and knees once her back was to the turnbuckles. She never took her eyes off the stage, however. The Illusion of Earthly Perfection was so close the Inquisitor could smell her. And she intended to break the devilish dream on her rack before the night was over.
Again! Again!
Lisa stomped as she paced backstage in angry disbelief. How far would Christian push this narrative? If the boss didn’t know what’s good for her, she might get more perfection than she knows what to do with.
This time some delusional leather-club fetishist awaited her, a slightly familiar, so-called Inquisitor receiving cheers from the Wannadreams, or at least a few. It wasn’t any divine intervention that’d given this bleached blonde Torquemada an opportunity to puncture her perfection, but meddling of a far more earthly sort. And she was damned tired of it. Still, when it came to FAWN’s worst offenders, it could be worse. She could be dealing with the nutcase that thought she was a vampire. Or the one that talked to a stuffed bear. Lisa shook off this almost imperfect rationalization. No matter the level of insanity, Tiffany Mayes was nothing more than handmaiden to a deposed madwoman, a psychotic acolyte living with dreams of catechismic grandeur.
As Mayes’ music fades, The Dream readied herself to jump back on Christian’s carousel of crazy. She would be portrayed as one of the inmates of FAWN’s growing asylum. The lead patient in a study of schizophrenia. Instead of the Personification of Perfection she is.
Thankfully, the thoughts were scattered from Lisa’s troubled mind when a loud bang began an immaculate light show that filled the upper stage. A split second behind, the opening chords of the classic ‘O Fortuna’ replaced the blazing fireworks.
O FORTUNA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GD3VsesSBsw
The jeers of the FAWNatics rose to a crescendo along with the stirring music as the icon moved to center stage, taking the spotlight figuratively and literally. The crowd spewed their venom and Lisa looked upon them with utter disdain, every single one jealous of her perfection instead of rightfully celebrating it.
LISA DREAM:
Having sent a chill down the spine of Dreamophile and Dreamophobe alike, Lisa lowered her gaze upon herself, there the further proof of her impeccable ability wrapped around her midriff, the FAWN World Championship belt evidence of perfection even the most obtuse Orlandian could not avoid or deny.
Satisfied with her bask, The Dream began her champion’s promenade, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection moving gracefully down the ramp and aisle, then ascending the ring steps with all the surety of someone who’s known from birth she’s without a single shortcoming.
Lisa halted and took a long look around the unfriendly confines before sticking a leather-clad leg through and followed the cowskin-covered limb into the battleground.
The Luscious One moved to the middle, unfastens her belt, and raised it high, staring a hole through her challenger. She had a microphone in her opposite hand.
“I hope you’ve been praying, Wannadream. And that your deity takes pity on you. Because I won’t!”
Tiffany sent a venomous sneer in the direction of The Dream. At least this kind of crazy wouldn’t try to rip her head off at the earliest opportunity, like Mayhem. Already an improvement. Still, Lisa notices Mayes didn’t seem at all impressed with her faultlessness. True insanity indeed.
Dream was clad in her iconic, skin-tight, black leather; Lisa wearing her customary sleeveless vest, cut to give her pert bosom room to breathe but otherwise covering her alabaster tummy, only a slight rim of skin showing. Her long, black cowhide pants reached down to her black boots, the Dreamophiles, again frustrated at not being able to view the flawless, alabaster stems of the Personification of Perfection. A series of leather ‘strings’ cobweb across her back to keep the vest in place, though they also leave a considerable portion of her ivory back in view.
Having failed to impress the Inquisitor, Lisa decided she’s had enough testifying and moves to her corner, handing over her title and stick to a nearby attendant, the Snnouncer using the lull to herald the arrival of The Dream.
“And her opponent, from New York, New York, standing five feet six inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and seventeen pounds, she is the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection… and YOUR FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…LISA DREAM!”
The beautiful dark-haired Dream stretched both sets of limbs, keeping a watchful set of brown pools on her dogmatic challenger, Lisa ignoring the jeers and leers of the jealous Dreamophobes.
“Well,” Dream complained to Castle, her eyebrows raising. “Are you going to let me bury this rabble before midnight or not?”
Nick called for the bell and the match was underway with the clang of the bell.
Though she was never what you might call pleased to share her ring with an obvious Wannadream, Lisa at least looked less irritated than she had during her two prior title defenses. Oh, the leather-clad blonde’s presence was still a foul affront to her superlative sensibilities, but this one wasn’t drooling, chewing on her own hair or babbling to an imaginary friend and that was a marked improvement. Strolling forth once the match was live, Lisa’s perfect features crimped in some vague recognition as the challenger approached. Drawing to a stop several steps in front of her adversary, the Ultimate Image looked Tiffany up and down, then asked, “Weren’t you a brunette the last time I kicked your ass? And a schoolgirl?”
Mayes stopped, but didn’t miss a beat with her answer. “Weren’t you young enough to wear trunks the last time I kicked your ass? And sa--”
The Dream lashed a Bytch Slap at the shorter wrestler’s face, only to curse in most un-Dreamy fashion when Tiff dipped low and slipped ‘round behind. Catching hold of a snug Waistlock, Mayes dropped her hips and-- Lisa grabbed hold of the challenger’s wrists and held on tight, stuffing Tiffany’s takedown attempt. Mayes grunted, dug her clasped fists into Dream’s midriff and would’ve tried again if the Living Legend hadn’t jacked her jaw with a quick Back Elbow.
Tearing loose of the Waistlock as soon as Tiffany’s grip loosened up, Lisa spun through a go-behind of her own, grabbed a double handful of hair and simply yanked back to drive Mayes down flat with a Hair-Pull Mat Slam! Tiffany landed hard, rolled through to all fours and scrambled to verticality to “NNGGGHHH!” The Ultimate Image snapped off a quick Standing Roundhouse that clapped her right foot offa the side of her opponent’s skull! Dropped to the deck for the second time in almost as many seconds, Mayes wriggled in distressed protest when Lisa sank to her knees and settled into a casually smug Crossbody that earned…
HAIR PULL SLAM & DREAMY KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-ZE1-PE0cw
ONE…
TWO…
Tiffany powered out just after ‘TWO!’, but she couldn’t clear off quickly enough to stop Lisa from catching hold of her hair. “Yes, you were most certainly a brunette schoolgirl the first time we met.” Dream proclaimed in the midst of seizing Mayes’ wrists, left in right and vice-versa. Once that was done she pulled the crisscrossed forearms tight against the blonde’s throat and planted a knee between Mayes shoulders to complete the Straightjacket Chinlock. “That settles the question of what you were before, but what are you now?” Dream mused. “Besides my latest victim of course.” she emphasized this obvious fact by rudely jostling Tiffany’s hands up and down, up and down.
STRAIGHTJACKET CHINLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYZhmomowCQ
“Grrrrhhhhh… you wanna know what I am, heathen?” Mayes growled after she’d brushed off a question of surrender from Nick Castle. “I’m the righteous avenger that’s going to put an end to you AND your blasphemous red alter-egNNNNGGGHHH!”
Lisa stood up only to drop back to her previous position, the Reflection of Perfection just driving the point of that knee between her prey’s shoulders. “Ooooooohhhhh, THAT’S right.” Dream said in the tone of someone who’d just snapped their fingers. “You were one of Miranda’s brainwashed little puppets. You do know she’s long gone, don’t you, Wannadream? Trying to carry on the work in her absence just makes you look crazy.”
“Spuuuhhh…. spoken like a true expeRRRGHHHH!”
Smile falling away as that vile assignation left her opponent’s flawed lips, Lisa yanked the straightjacket up across Mayes’ mouth and nose and pulled back harder than ever. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to call me that, Wannadream. Especially when you’re moaning and gibbering to yourse--”
Tiffany leaned into Lisa’s posted knee, planted her feet and abruptly twisted to one knee. This didn’t actually free her from the Straightjacket, but it got her off of The Dream’s knee and from there it was only a matter of seconds before she powered to vertica--“OFH! OFH! OOFFFHH!”
Lisa rose alongside for the sole purpose of smashing the broadside of her thigh across the smaller wrestler’s lower back. “Don’t think you’re escaping this Perfect Prison so easily my hapless little convert.” the FAWN World Champion sneered. “In fact, you’re not going anywhere until you swear fealty to my righteous PerfectNNNNGGGHH!”
Tiffany raised a foot and STAMPED on The Dream’s right foot! As before this didn’t free her from the Straightjacket, so Mayes took a big step forward and dropped to one knee to flip Lisa onto her tush with a modified Snapmare. “You’re going to regret that, Wannadream.” Dream huffed as she rubbed her stinging tailbone. “I don’t take kindly to heretics in the Church of Flawless Dre--”
THWHACK! Tiffany smote a vicious Soccer Kick between Lisa’s shoulders, the force of it more than enough to freeze Lisa’s flawless phalanges into imperfect talons clawing at the air. Mayes had no problems letting Dream grasp at phantoms, it meant she wasn’t seeking out the challenger when the Inquisitor made a beeline for the ropes directly ahead of the seated champion. Lisa saw Tiffany leave and return, yet that seemed to be all she could do, the usually pugnacious perfectionist reduced to mere spectator until the moment Mayes caught her chin in both hands and flipped over at high speed, Mayes landing stretched out flat to THAWHUNK the base of her opponent’s skull against the deck!
BASEMENT BLOCKBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvSsXxvBhtI
Lisa bounced to a seat and rolled onto her stomach at once, the brunette’s forehead pressed to the mat so she could swaddle her noggin in both hands. Already on her feet, Tiffany leaned in to grab Dream’s hair only to draw back at the last moment. Turning away from the penitent lovely without so much as a word, Mayes ran the ropes to Lisa’s left. Picking up more speed with every step, Tiffany zeroed in on her target and slid in like a runner stealing home, the former Churchgoer THWHUMPING her heels into the brunette’s exposed ribs! Lisa ‘oooffffhed!’ and tumbled onto her stomach, the Ultimate Image dismissing the throb in her head for fresher, more nauseating agonies.
Dreamophobes everywhere urged Mayes to go for the cover, a suggestion she summarily ignored in favor of driving one heel down into The Dream’s tummy! Lisa sat up only to get knocked right back down courtesy of a short Penalty Kick delivered betwixt the eyes. Cheekily skipping over the retching battler on her way to the far corner, Mayes didn’t go to the high rent district, rather she whipped around on one heel and raced down her own back-trail. She was only a few long steps out when she took to the skies for a floaty head-first back-flip that brought her THWHUMPING down atop Lisa’s exposed tummy. Now Tiffany hooked the far leg and rolled into a tight Back Press that pointed Lisa’s perfect posterior at the lights for…
STANDING SHOOTING STAR PRESS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kZguYky3Oo
ONE…
TWO…
Dream kicked free simultaneous with ‘TWO’, Lisa perhaps a bit winded but nowhere near finished.
“What you call perfection is nothing more than heresy.” Tiffany told the Ultimate Image after she’d sidled behind The Dream and caught hold of her right wrist. “I’ll make you admit your sins in front of the world, heathen.” Mayes added. “I’ll make you suffer.”
“More than this?” Lisa grunted. “That hardly seems likeRRRRGGGHHHHHH!”
Tiff folded Lisa’s arm up behind her head, reached through the ‘triangle’ created by bicep and forearm with her own right hand to double down on the other brunette’s captured wrist. Reefing back and down on the simple hold, Mayes allowed herself a wicked, knowing smile as the so called ‘Ultimate Image’ writhed in her grasp.
INQUISITOR'S GRASP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVSO7B6Y3rs
“Confess whenever you’re ready, heathen. It will do wonders for whatever’s left of your miserable soul.”
Lisa growled, but it quickly turned to a mewling wince when the devout blonde wrenched Lisa’s captured limb all the farther.
“Sing for me, heathen,” Tiffany demanded. “The Church may have been reduced to its core, but I am its truth and its light and upon your beltless carcass I will rebuild it.”
The Dream leaned back into Mayes’ chest and together they rose, the World Champion grimacing through the ascension, ignoring the Inquisitor’s best efforts. The brunette spun out of the Armlock but not out of Tiffany’s grasp and Mayes yanked Lisa toward her, ramming her chest into the extended right shoulder of The Dream, apparently trying to dislocate it.
Lisa yelped in pain and the anguish only grew when the Churchgoer and apparently soon-to-be Churchbuilder used The Dream’s arm like a bull whip, cracking it and sending a yipping Lisa up to tiptoes in intense discomfort.
“You may try to create a flaw in perfection butAHHHHH”
Tiffany cracked the ‘whip’ again, shutting Lisa’s trap instantly. Dream supported her right arm with a clamping left palm against her bicep, teeth gritting in pain.
“Time for your exodus, flawed heathen,” Mayes pronounced.
She pivoted and used her handle to shoot Dream into a sprint to the far ropes. The champ rebounded, fire in her eyes. It was one thing to call her a heathen. But flawed? For that the Wannadream would pay.
Lisa charged at the stationed Mayes, planning to run roughshod with a dipped shoulder. But Tiffany bent at the waist, pressed her palms into the leather over Lisa’s legs and VAULTED her foe high into the Orlando night.
Lisa gracefully flipped though the trip to the canvas. Her landing was less than perfect, the Dream’s spine CRASHING into the canvas. The Ultimate Image twisted and arched in pain from the landing and a risen Mayes added to the backache with a whistling kick to her foe’s lower vertebrae.
The previously agnostic crowd got behind the Inquisitor and the blonde seemed a bit taken aback to see a few voluntary converts in the crowd. Tiffany motioned she’s going to break Lisa, ending the Dream’s reign and the support grew.
With Dream seated on the deck, legs extended, Tiffany snatched the champ’s left and raised the limb, quickly stepping on The Dream’s right ankle, pinning the opposite number to the mat. Lisa looked up, well aware what Miss Immoral Majority had in mind. She raised her palms and shook her head.
“If you know what’s good for youAHHHHHGAWWWD!”
There’s also a noticeable and disturbing ripping sound heard alongside Lisa’s howl.
The Luscious One was in agony as the Inquisitor dropped in the opposite direction of her pinned limb, forcing an awful set of splits from Lisa with the blonde’s Wishbone Leg Splitter. As Mayes rolled to her feet, Lisa’s lower limbs remained wide, her hands burying into the strained groin muscles between, a conspicuous split in the black leather at either juncture of inner thigh to torso, the skin tightness of Lisa’s leather backfiring as she received two new vents showing milky white skin created by the Churchbuilder.
Lisa’s welled eyes blinked away tears. She saw Mayes was presenting perfection without her permission and fury grew in the dark, flooded pools of The Dream.
It made no matter to the rampaging challenger who raced off the ropes and NAILED Lisa’s forehead with the point of her right knee, flattening Dream to the canvas in a shellshocked spreadeagle.
Tiffany skidded to a stop and, instead of covering the splayed title holder, she placed a boot sole against Lisa’s crotch. Grabbing the end of the left pant leg of Lisa’s leather, she tugged mightily, quickly increasing the size of the tear. Dream returned to coherence slowly with the continued tearing sound of her cowskin and the painful pressure on her womanhood.
“Let’s see if what you claim is true,” Mayes grunted between each breathy pull.
Finally, the shredding pants gave way and the blonde yanked off a full leg-worth of leather, showing off at least half a set of black lace panties beneath. The beaming alabaster perfection of Lisa’s lower left limb glowed like a beacon to the roaring crowd, the throng viscerally loving the sight so few enjoyed and the obvious distress it caused the apoplectic brunette.
“How? HOW DARE YOU?!” Lisa screamed in a stammer.
The challenger dared, twirling her prize, the leather lasso spinning above her head before Mayes tossed it into the stands and, by night’s end, Ebay.
The hammer throw of The Dream’s pant sleeve allowed Lisa to scoot on her partially bared butt cheek to the ropes and use them to rise. She hobbled along the cables, still working off the effects of the leg splitter, Tiffany quickly on the prowl after the champ.
A familiar froth grew in the corner of Lisa’s lips as she limped next to the strands, keeping an elbow crooked around the top as she mumbles incoherently. Nick closed with the champ, first insisting The Dream move away from the ropes, but a feral growl sent him off in a different direction. Nick didn’t bother counting, perhaps presuming the Inquisitor will remove the issue. Indeed, the blonde scoffed as she pushed past the official.
“I’ve dealt with the Black Queen and her minions,” Mayes barked at Castle. “I’m supposed to be frightened by some Red Bytch?”
Tiffany turned her attention back to her foe and found Lisa’s halted her retreat during the challenger’s discussion with the zebra, in fact turning on her foe and lifting her bared, ivory leg. She PLANTED the boot at the end into Tiffany’s crotch, the punt connecting with a meaty THWACK sending a shiver through many within range of the sound.
It’s the Churchbuilder’s turn to rise to tippy toes, jaw dropping wide, eyes saucers.
“Pray,” Lisa hissed, eyes spinning like a top, the telltale Scarlet personality of The Dream emerging. She lifted her ruby-tipped nails and scraped them across the widened brown pools of the frozen Mayes. Tiffany shrieked in pain and blindly waddled off, knees knocking.
“Pray to Miranda or the Vampire or to Heaven Above because it’s too late to pray you don’t bring out Ruby Red.”
Seemingly shot with three vials of adrenaline, The Dream charged a stooped Mayes, the challenger trying to stop hyperventilating from the vile double-play of Lisa’s alter ego.
Red Lisa zoomed in from the side and brought the hammer down, showing even in her Scarlet State Lisa could do more than rip and tear. The champ left the blonde facedown and lifeless from an emphatic Dreamsicle. Lisa’s overhand Clothesline to the back of Tiffany’s neck delivered the Inquisitor into the canvas and Dreamland all at once.
The frothing Lisa dropped to her knees, dark eyes shooting from side to side. Having forgotten for a moment what she’s to do with Mayes’ broken body, The Dream recovered enough of her wits to roll the blonde to her back and drop across the challenger’s chest for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Divine Intervention or the Devil’s own luck, whatever it was, it helped Tiffany Mayes get a shoulder off the mat with half a second to spare. Still deep in the throes of her red madness, Lisa snapped a few incoherencies at Nick Castle before returning her ire to the gobsmacked blonde. Burying both hands in Tiff’s hair, Red Lisa scrambled to verticality and forced Mayes to do the same but once they reached their destination she seemed at a loss for what to do nex--
‘Oooooooohhhhh OOOOOHHHHHHH!’ the sold out crowd murmured, then groaned when Red Lisa stepped back and began to spin in place without relinquishing her hold on Mayes’ hair. The result was more a twirl than Giant Swing because the challenger never actually left her feet, however her long locks were stretched to their utmost and her pained keening grew louder by the second. A bit farther removed from the action than he would’ve liked (he didn’t want to get clobbered by either of his charges) Nick Castle shouted, “Let go of her hair, Lisa! Let go I said!” The Vermillion Villainess only laughed like a loon and continued to spin, thus forcing the Senior Official to call out, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Red Lisa let loose, the sudden un-tethering sending her opponent careening into the ropes and back, both trips made in a nauseatingly awkward lurch. The off kilter approach didn’t bother Red Lisa in the slightest, she waited motionless in the center of the squared circle, her arms spread wide until-- she lunged in and hooked her right arm beneath Mayes’ right bicep so that the blonde’s arm was snugged tight against the side of the champion’s neck. In the same instant she snaked her right arm around Tiffany’s neck and grabbed hold of her own left forearm which was up at that level because Red Lisa had gone back to tugging and yanking at her own hair!
RED CLUTCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptwfVBLzeSc
This wasn’t immediately apparent due to thrashing and twisting from both wrestlers, indeed Nick almost warned Lisa to get her hand outta Tiffany’s hair before he realized the Perfect Psychopath was inflicting this particular punishment on herself. Eventually recognizing the trap as a sort of Standing Triangle Choke, Castle got as close as he dared before asking, “You still in this, Tiffany? What do you say, need me to call for the bell?”
“Nuuuuhhhh… NO!” she burbled. “I won’t fall to a madwomAAARGGGHH!”
Red Lisa yanked the smaller wrestler up on tiptoe and ragdolled her for several seconds presumably because she enjoyed all the squealing and squirming. “Heh, heh, heh.” the Crimson Calamity giggled in her prey’s ear. “Drift off into my pretty red nightmare, WannadreRRGGHH! RRGGGHH! RRGGHHH!”
Not nearly so helpless as the World Champion might’ve guessed, Mayes balled her left hand into a fist and pounded several quick, shiv-like shots into her tormentor’s right flank. When that didn’t pop the lock on Red Lisa’s demented trap, the challenger inquired as to the location of the brunette’s waistband and once she found it, raised it by several inches. This rough adjustment displeased both incarnations of the FAWN World Champ so she dipped her knees and hauled Tiffany into the sky, the former Churchgoer’s legs swinging up under Red Lisa’s stranglin’ arm even as she laid out on her back to THAWHAM Mayes down flat!
SIDE EFFECT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7i4tstYrO7s
Enduring far worse than dry mouth and dizziness in the wake of this Side Effect, Mayes offered nothing in the way of meaningful resistance when the brunette stretched out atop her chest and bundled both legs tight for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Tiffany kicked out, the force of it flopping the vulnerable blonde onto her stomach. Above her, Red Lisa closed her eyes and Lisa Dream opened them. Breathing heavily, the Ultimate Image ran her hands through her hair and looked around until she found the referee. “Good lord, Castle. I just had the worst nightmare. I was wrestling that urchin Tiffany Mayes and she actually had the AUDACITY to attack my…” The Dream’s hands ventured south to pat her thighs, one still sheathed in its leather armor, the other… the other…”
Eyes wide, Lisa patted her bare thigh, looked down and shrieked in perfectly incredulous rage. On her feet in the blink of an eye, Dream went straight for Nick, who backpedaled until he bumped into the far corner. “WHERE IS IT?” she bellowed in his face. WHERE DID THAT… THAT… TROGLODYTE WANNADREAM PUT MY LEATHER?”
Castle tipped his head in the direction of the front row. “She threw it to the crowd, Lisa. Let it go, it’s gone.”
Lisa didn’t wait around to refute this ludicrous claim, she simply stormed to the hard camera side, mounted the second rope and shrieked, “GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME YOU’LL NEVER SEE MY PERFECTION AGAIN!”
The idiots gathered for March to War cuh-learly didn’t grasp the severity of this threat because they responded with a veritable wall of cheers that did nothing for Lisa’s state of mind. Hopping down from her perch before their concentrated flaws could infect her perfection, The Dream turned her back on the jeering throng and took several deep breaths.
“It’s fine. It’s FINE. You can put Raker on retainer to track, then sue the ass off whatever pathetic mouth-breathing Wannadream ever dared to put their nacho-smeared fingers on…”
Lisa trailed off when she realized Tiffany Mayes was slowly making her way to all fours. Hot Red Rage boiled up at the back of her throat, but The Dream clenched her perfect pearlies until the worst of it faded into the background. “So, you want to show perfection to the masses, do you, Wannadream?” she almost whispered. “Well if you’re going to attempt such a feat, you should at least do it right.”
With that, Dream hooked her fingers into the split seam in her surviving leather and tore it loose with several maniacal yanks! This raised a cacophonous roar from the FAWNatics, not that Lisa paid it any mind. Focused on nothing but the shorn leather held tight in both hands and the penitent Wannadream responsible for this sartorial blasphemy, The Dream stalked up behind Mayes and deftly wrapped the leather garrote around her opponent’s throat!
“GUUUUHHHHRRRRK!” Tiffany reared back on her haunches, both hands flying to the shorn pant-leg digging into her windpipe.
“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?” Lisa screamed at the flailing challenger. “ANSWER ME, WANNADREAM! IS THIS WHAT YOU WANNGGHH!”
Mayes fought to one knee, reached over her head with both hands and grabbed hold of Lisa’s hair just to drop to her butt which in turn drilled the champ’s chin into the crown of her skull! The Jawbreaker loosened that damned leather enough for Tiff to tear it away, it did not however slow Lisa long enough to get her out of The Dream’s grasp. Catching Mayes by trunks and tresses as she rose, the Reflection of Perfection whipped ‘round in a half circle and charged to the other side of the ring where she promptly tossed the Inquisitor over the top NO!
Tiffany caught hold of the strands and pulled herself onto the apron, much to Lisa’s disgust. “Get your miserable Wannadream ass out of my OOFFFFHHH!” Mayes shot a Shoulderblock between the top and middle rope to send The Dream back clutching her midsection. Making quick note of the champ’s position, Tiffany slung her right leg over the middle rope, stepped on the bottom and launched herself into the squared circle with a pretty little leap that turned downright ugly when she wrapped her arms around Lisa’s head and right arm and dropped to the deck to THAWHONK Lisa’s perfect pate into the thinly-sheathed plywood courtesy of a Springboard Tornado Flatliner.
SPRINGBOARD TORNADO FLATLINER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVWfB7O9qJY
Straddling The Dream’s waist as soon as she flopped onto her back, Tiffany reached back and hooked a leg behind the knee to ensure she earned the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Seemingly off in a DreamWorld of her own, the lifeless Lisa spasmed back to semi-coherence, shooting a shoulder off the mat, disappointing the masses. The brunette rolled to her side, but was stuck there, her senses trying to catch her reflexes.
The Inquisitor wasn’t in the best of condition either, but the Churchmaker was at least of her own twisted, dogmatic mind. She pushed to her feet, giving Castle a death stare for not performing his job appropriately.
As The Dream made it to a seated position, Mayes turned her attention back to the World Champion, sinking her nails into the scalp of the Reflection of Perfection. The blonde ripped a wobbling Lisa to her feet and ROCKED her with a pair of European Uppercuts. Tiffany backpedaled to the ropes behind her and rebounded into a feet-first leap toward The Dream. Her tanned legs cinched tight around Dream’s cranium, the momentum of her flight swinging the blonde and Lisa around in an orbit that moved from one revolution to two and three. Finally, Mayes released her Flying Headscissors and Lisa’s sent flipping through the air, skidding to a halt near a corner.
AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 MAYES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjXm_uNjpbI
Drunkenly, The Dream pushed to her feet and fell into the buckles behind her, throwing an arm over either set of ropes to stay upright. Within seconds, Tiffany RAMMED her with a flying Hip Check. She dipped and scooped the rattled Dream off her feet, tipping Lisa over and into Body Slam position. But instead of sending her foe’s spine crashing to the canvas, Mayes set the pits of The Dream’s knees over the top cable on either side and trapped Lisa’s luscious and bare legs within the ropes.
With an overturned Lisa trapped in the Inquisitor’s Tree of Woe, a snarling Tiffany jogged to the opposite buckles and charged. Taking to the air from a few feet out, the challenger sent a gutting Dropkick into Dream’s midriff, waking Lisa into a fit of breathless coughs and groans. Unfortunately for the Ultimate Image, she remained stuck in the Tree, a delighted Mayes bouncing to her feet.
“You’re worthless to my new Church,” Tiffany pronounced to the writhing, panicking Dream, “but I envision a place of honor for your rosy counterpart.”
Lisa shrieked in fury but was quickly shut down when Tiffany dropped an elbow into Lisa’s perfect privates, a loud groan emanating from the crowd, many mid-sympathy pain. The silver lining from the vile crotch shot, Lisa tumbled from the Tree and settled in a fetal ball, hands buried between her alabaster lower limbs.
“Before Red can join and help me rebuild my Church, you must be cleansed,” Tiffany informs.
She sank her fingers into the champ’s dark locks and pulled The Dream out of her shell, tugging Lisa to rubbery legs. Mayes dipped and swung an arm through Lisa’s trembling stems. She ‘hupped’ the Personification of Perfection across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry, holding to seemingly let Lisa understand the error of her ways, then tossed her foe’s legs out behind her, laying out and demolishing Lisa with her throwback ‘It’s Academic’.
IT’S ACADEMIC:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dx8tFnjrTLQ
The wrecked Dream absently flopped to her back, splayed in a spreadeagle. Mayes moved to a penitent position next to the destroyed Dream. The blonde raised both hands high, palms pointed heavenward before throwing them down upon Lisa, one landing on her foe’s chest, the other her tummy, perhaps hoping to cast out the original Lisa with the arrogant pin.
Castle dropped beside the domineering display and slapped the mat for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
From somewhere in the depths of a legendary career, in FAWN and elsewhere, Lisa Dream refused to relinquish her title, eking a shoulder off the canvas.
A furious Mayes pulled the dazed Lisa to a seat and sent forearm after forearm into The Dream’s flawless features before tossing the dilapidated Dream away in frustration. Tiffany rose to her feet and ran her fingers through her long golden locks.
“I will use you to remake MY CHURCH,” a steaming Mayes insisted. “For if so-called perfection can be pacified AND I take my place on the highest altar of the organization, no one can deny me.”
The proclamation allowed Lisa to roll to her chest and weakly push to hands and knees. She turned her head to the hovering blonde and shook her head.
“It’s just a Dream,” Lisa bleated ironically.
The title holder paid for her comment with a vicious kick to the temple that left Dream out on her face and chest. But instead of rolling Lisa to her back and proceeding to another pin, Mayes mounted her foe in a standing, reverse-facing straddle. The blonde lowered to snatch both of Lisa’s legs at the ankles and settled into a crouch, arching The Dream’s vertebrae in directions they were never meant to go.
The pain revived the champion, but quickly The Dream wished it hadn’t. As the Inquisitor leaned back, moving Dream’s heels closer to her shoulderblades, Lisa bit her lip, sending her fingers into her own locks and yanking, this time to spread the pain instead of the crazy. Tiffany dropped into a vile bridge, amping the anguish and Lisa could resist no longer, howling in agony.
“Surrender.” Mayes implored. “Surrender your delusion of perfection to me. Become my disciple and the pain will be removed forever.”
Nick dropped to his haunches in front of the wailing champion.
“Just say the word, Lisa. I’ll get you out of this.”
The Dream removed her hands from her mane and took a swipe at the official but missed. She shook her head violently when she’s asked again.
Apparently determining The Dream needed further testimony, Tiffany rolled out of her bridge, releasing the bedeviling Boston Crab, ending on her knees. She gave a massage to her lower back before lacing her fingers into a Double Axhandle and ramming the joined fists into the base of Lisa’s spinal column. The momentary relief of release was replaced with new waves of pain for The Dream as she arched in anguish, then rolled to her back protect the point of torture from the Inquisitor.
The blonde used Lisa’s positioning instead, keeping her axhandle tight and thrusting it down into the raised midriff of the champion, impaling the Ultimate Image, flattening Lisa to the canvas.
Mayes placed a palm upon Dream’s forehead. As Castle dropped for another atypical pin, Tiffany shook her head.
“No. She must learn her place before becoming the first of my flock reborn.”
Rising, the Inquisitor slowly maneuvers the barely conscious Lisa to her feet. It’s an ordeal, but nevertheless, it’s managed by the challenger.
With Lisa, bent at the waist, Tiffany wrapped her left arm over the back of Lisa’s neck, securing a Front Facelock, while grapevining her near leg with that of The Dream. She’s ready to bring MayesDay to FAWN more than a month early and turn an ascendant Dream into an obedient devotee of the Church and its new leader and World Champion.
The Inquisitor hunched forward over her opponent’s vulnerable frame, then snapped back NO! Dream sank to her right knee, effectively stuffing that righteous head-drop for at least another couple of seconds. Far from amused by the delay of her inevitable apotheosis, Mayes grabbed hold of that beleaguered leather waistband and used it to haul the wounded champion to vertic--Lisa crumpled again, either through exhaustion or the nauseating proximity of so much imperfection.
Dark eyes cold and hard, Tiffany squeeeeeeeeeeezed the Front Facelock, but made no effort to yank Lisa to her feet. Instead she demanded, “Rise, you piece of heathen trash.”
“Kuuuuhhhhh… kiss my Perfect ass, you pathetic WannadreaAAAAARRRRRRHHHHHHH!”
Tiffany spidered her free hand beneath the World Champ’s waistline, caught hold of the simple lace panties beneath and yanked a fistful out for those assembled to inspect! That insidious wedgie brought The Dream to her feet at once, perhaps a bit too fast as the abrupt shift in position forced Mayes to backpedal to keep her balance. In the end that was all the window Perfection needed to fashion an escape. Slapping her arms around the blonde’s midsection in a tight Waistlock, Lisa dipped low and popped her hips to take Tiffany up, over and down onto her back with a snappy Northern Lights Suplex.
Already close to the action, Nick Castle was in perfect position to count the pin but he never had to because the Ultimate Image somersaulted backward over the prone challenger and scrambled to boot-leather without even trying for a cover. This didn’t mean a respite for Mayes, just the opposite actually. Soon as she was upright Lisa took to the skies in an impressive vertical leap and THWHUMPED both heels into Tiff’s sternum! The resultant jolt from her imperfect crash-pad meant Lisa dropped into an awkward bum on tummy landing, but she made the best of it by hooking Mayes’ legs behind the knees and leaning forward in a snug Matchbook that lasted through…
NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX & DOUBLE STOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhGBnl2RfBg
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Tiff got a shoulder off the mat half a second before ‘THREE’ and Lisa scrambled to her feet at once, not to continue the assault but to march right up to Nick Castle so she could demand, “I WANT HER DISQUALIFIED! THAT WANNADREAM RUINED A PERFECT PAIR OF PANTS AND USED MY TRUNKS TO GAIN AN ILLEGAL ADVANTAGE!”
“Lisa, if I disqualified her for that wedgie, I’d have to disqualify you whenever you conducted a Bittersweet Symphony. Now you don’t want that, do you?”
Lisa raised a finger to object, then lowered it without comment. After a moment she said, “Wannadream still owes me a pair of pants.”
The sound of imperfect shuffling on her six got Dream’s attention and she rounded on the challenger at once, Lisa rushing to bury her hands in Mayes’ hair so she could control the pace of her prey’s return to verticality. Punishing the blonde’s abs with a few well-timed Kneelifts, Lisa twisted in place and deftly transitioned from hair-hold to Three Quarters Facelock, which in turn gave way to a Snapmare that put the Inquisitor flat on her butt in the middle of the ring. Now that Tiff’s placement was perfect (or at least as close to perfect as a Wannadream could ever achieve) Lisa ran the ropes in front of the challenger and returned in a dead sprint that meant maximum impact when she THWONKED her right knee between the seated blonde’s eyes!
NIGHTMARE ON DREAM STREET:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOVnw6IwVWw
Knocked into a glassy-eyed sprawl by the mind-numbing horror of that Nightmare on Dream Street, Mayes only burbled soft nothings when Lisa circled back and scraped her off the mat with a double handful of hair. “Did you really think I was some fusty old icon you could simply desecrate en route to the gold?” The Dream growled after shoving Tiffany’s noggin between her thighs. “That you could have your way with perfection and there would be no consequences?” Lisa trailed off as she let her fingertips ‘walk’ down the taut curve of the Inquisitor’s glutes. “Well I’m here to tell you, Wannadream… there are ALWAYS consequences.”
In this case the consequences came in two acts, the first being a scathing wedgie that made a good three quarters of Tiffany’s already scant briefs disappear in the span between heartbeats. That was only prologue, however. The Dream’s true vengeance began when she cupped her hands into Perfect Paddles and unleashed some perilous percussion on her prey’s bared buns. Even the most tin-eared of Dreamophobes found themselves tapping a toe along with that gorgeous gluteal riffing, Lisa’s hands fading to a fearsome flicker though there was no missing the myriad palm-shaped welts that blossomed on her foe’s buns.
The Bittersweet Symphony lasted for upwards of ten seconds, ultimately culminating with a mercilessly loud double slap, Lisa’s percussive palms just CRA-CRAAACKING offa Mayes devastated derriere. Rather than toss her instrument aside at the end of the show, Lisa relinquished the Headscissors only to catch the smaller wrestler’s noggin in a Front Facelock. Slinging Tiffany’s near arm across her shoulders, the Ultimate Image hooked her foe’s left leg in a snug standing cradle, then bent her knees and powered the smaller wrestler overhead for a Fisherman’s Bust-- Dream swung Mayes back the way she’d came while simultaneously dropping to her butt, Lisa with the seamless segue to the Sit-Out Powerbomb marked the Third Verse in her Ode to Perfection. Tiffany bounced on impact, just not high or far enough to prevent Dream from gluing her to the canvas with a one-legged cradle good for…
ODE TO PERFECTION, VERSE THREE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaLjZhQ8YYE
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Mayes shot a shoulder up and twisted onto her belly, the Inquisitor escaping by the slimmest of margins. Gripped by an incredulity that would’ve paralyzed a lesser will, Lisa clambered to her feet, rounded on Castle and screamed, “THAT. WAS. THREE!”
Nick shook his head. “Sorry Lis, it was only two--”
Dream was on him in a single long bound, one hand on the man’s collar while the other drew back for a face-tingling bytch slap. “Don’t even THINK about it, Dream.” the ref said as calmly as he could. “Touch me and I’ll call for the--”
CRAAACK!
Lisa slapped her own face once, twice, three times, then crooked that hand into a claw and scored her perfection from forehead to chin almost half a dozen times!
“Stop it Dream!” Castle barked. “Get a hold of yourself and focus on the ma--”
Red Lisa looked up, offering the senior official a smile like charring paper. “Dream’s not here, Mr. Doctor.”
Such proximity to Red Lisa was the last thing Nick Castle wanted, thankfully the Violent Vermillion Vixen dismissed him with a snort and stalked back to Tiffany Mayes, who’d just made it to her feet. A Forearm Smash across the shoulders froze the challenger’s already scrambled defenses, allowing Red Lisa ample time to twist ‘round back to back and cup her right hand across the blonde’s chin. Catching hold of Mayes’ right wrist in her left hand, Lisa stretched the limb away from her opponent’s torso, then kicked her right leg forward and whipped it back to lay out on her tummy in relative comfort while poor Tiffany landed with every bit of her weight CRASHING down on the back of her head and shoulders!
PERCHANCE TO DREAM @ 00:03
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLJ89fhy0gU
Somersaulting onto her tummy following the cruel landing, Mayes mumbled something that might’ve been a plea for mercy, alas it fell on Red ears. Muscling the challenger’s deadweight off the mat in stages, the Ultimate Image of Human Depravity spun in place, cupped the back of Tiffany’s skull with her right hand and neutralized her left arm by draping it across her shoulders. Holding that wrist tight, Red Lisa whipped her right leg up, then down, the champ coming down on her tummy for the second time in less than a minute, only now poor Mayes THAWHONKED down on the crown of her skull!
DAY DREAMER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLJ89fhy0gU
Tent-spiked, then starfished by the gawdawful Day Dreamer, Tiffany offered nothing butt breathless nuzzled supplications to Red Lisa’s domineering tush when she scurried forward and planted that ruined leather atop upturned mug. Hip grinding and other theatrics were wholly unnecessary, yet that didn’t stop Big Red from ‘smacking’ both hands down on her throne’s tummy even as Castle swooped in to count the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Red Lisa grinned, dug her perfect talons into Tiffany’s gulping abs while the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall and STILL the FAWN World Champion… LISA DREAM!”
Even the nasty pair of tummy-tucking belly claws weren’t waking Mayes from her deep slumber and Red Lisa was not satisfied with the lack of response.
“You wanted me? You got me, bytch!” she shrieked. The Scarlet Psychotic lifted her cheeks and bounced them atop the beak of the broken blonde, ignoring Castle’s pleas to rise from the demolished Inquisitor.
“I’m just showing this it’s proper respect,” she frothed, spitting some bubbles from the corner of her mouth as she ranted at the backpedaling Nick.
She continued to use Tiffany’s head as a butt basketball while turning to the nearest lens.
“Don’t tell you know who!” she giggled. “She doesn’t like it when I’m in the driver’s seat.”
Red Lisa lowered into said seat and started to slide forward and back, slowly at first, then increasing her speed. Her eyes rolled white as she panted heavily, the crowd in stunned and rapt silence as Big Red released her Big ‘O’, screaming to the back row at climax.
The victor dismounted the vanquished, deep breaths diminishing as she relaxed on her haunches, leaving Mayes glazed. And as her pulse slowed, the Ultimate Image seeped into her meat suit.
Aghast at not what she’s done to Tiffany but that she allowed the fans to see what only those approaching her perfection should, The Dream rolled out of the ring and snatched her belt from an attendant. She strode up the aisle and ramp in a perfect snit, clearly unhappy Red claimed tonight’s defense, the dripping juice down her ivory thighs evidence she couldn’t deny.
********
TIFFANY MAYES:
His words were answered by a jangling bell that quickly gave way to guitars and drums, the former cutting out a simple riff which the latter strengthened with a staccato stomp. The Church might’ve been gone but the Inquisitor’s anthem was the same, as was the FAWNatics reaction thereto, the sold out crowd jeering quite vociferously as ‘Heaven Knows’ played Mayes through the curtain. Greeting the heathens with the same disgust they showed her, Tiffany stretched her arms wide, then brought her hands together in a show of dedication to tonight‘s task. Once that baleful benediction was through, she showed an evil smile and started down the aisle with bad intentions obvious in every step.
For tonight’s exorcism, Miranda Wainright’s one time Queen of Hearts sported a bandeau bikini of black leather, as well as matte black pads at knee and elbow and shiny black wrestling shoes. Righteous according to the annals of Eternal Midnight, others might’ve called it sinful, though no one dared voice such a blasphemous opinion as she stalked by. Measured in her approach thus far, Tiffany abruptly exploded into a sprint when she reached the foot of the ramp. Going from the floor to the apron to the top rope in the span between heartbeats, Mayes turned to face the crowd, her arms spread wide once more. They still didn’t appear all that receptive to her beliefs, so the challenger flipped them off, then launched herself backward with a gorgeous flip that brought her down in the center of the squared circle.
Greeting Nick Castle with the same distinctive hand gesture, Mayes blew past the Senior Official though she did deign to offer her elbows and knees once her back was to the turnbuckles. She never took her eyes off the stage, however. The Illusion of Earthly Perfection was so close the Inquisitor could smell her. And she intended to break the devilish dream on her rack before the night was over.
Again! Again!
Lisa stomped as she paced backstage in angry disbelief. How far would Christian push this narrative? If the boss didn’t know what’s good for her, she might get more perfection than she knows what to do with.
This time some delusional leather-club fetishist awaited her, a slightly familiar, so-called Inquisitor receiving cheers from the Wannadreams, or at least a few. It wasn’t any divine intervention that’d given this bleached blonde Torquemada an opportunity to puncture her perfection, but meddling of a far more earthly sort. And she was damned tired of it. Still, when it came to FAWN’s worst offenders, it could be worse. She could be dealing with the nutcase that thought she was a vampire. Or the one that talked to a stuffed bear. Lisa shook off this almost imperfect rationalization. No matter the level of insanity, Tiffany Mayes was nothing more than handmaiden to a deposed madwoman, a psychotic acolyte living with dreams of catechismic grandeur.
As Mayes’ music fades, The Dream readied herself to jump back on Christian’s carousel of crazy. She would be portrayed as one of the inmates of FAWN’s growing asylum. The lead patient in a study of schizophrenia. Instead of the Personification of Perfection she is.
Thankfully, the thoughts were scattered from Lisa’s troubled mind when a loud bang began an immaculate light show that filled the upper stage. A split second behind, the opening chords of the classic ‘O Fortuna’ replaced the blazing fireworks.
O FORTUNA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GD3VsesSBsw
The jeers of the FAWNatics rose to a crescendo along with the stirring music as the icon moved to center stage, taking the spotlight figuratively and literally. The crowd spewed their venom and Lisa looked upon them with utter disdain, every single one jealous of her perfection instead of rightfully celebrating it.
LISA DREAM:
Having sent a chill down the spine of Dreamophile and Dreamophobe alike, Lisa lowered her gaze upon herself, there the further proof of her impeccable ability wrapped around her midriff, the FAWN World Championship belt evidence of perfection even the most obtuse Orlandian could not avoid or deny.
Satisfied with her bask, The Dream began her champion’s promenade, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection moving gracefully down the ramp and aisle, then ascending the ring steps with all the surety of someone who’s known from birth she’s without a single shortcoming.
Lisa halted and took a long look around the unfriendly confines before sticking a leather-clad leg through and followed the cowskin-covered limb into the battleground.
The Luscious One moved to the middle, unfastens her belt, and raised it high, staring a hole through her challenger. She had a microphone in her opposite hand.
“I hope you’ve been praying, Wannadream. And that your deity takes pity on you. Because I won’t!”
Tiffany sent a venomous sneer in the direction of The Dream. At least this kind of crazy wouldn’t try to rip her head off at the earliest opportunity, like Mayhem. Already an improvement. Still, Lisa notices Mayes didn’t seem at all impressed with her faultlessness. True insanity indeed.
Dream was clad in her iconic, skin-tight, black leather; Lisa wearing her customary sleeveless vest, cut to give her pert bosom room to breathe but otherwise covering her alabaster tummy, only a slight rim of skin showing. Her long, black cowhide pants reached down to her black boots, the Dreamophiles, again frustrated at not being able to view the flawless, alabaster stems of the Personification of Perfection. A series of leather ‘strings’ cobweb across her back to keep the vest in place, though they also leave a considerable portion of her ivory back in view.
Having failed to impress the Inquisitor, Lisa decided she’s had enough testifying and moves to her corner, handing over her title and stick to a nearby attendant, the Snnouncer using the lull to herald the arrival of The Dream.
“And her opponent, from New York, New York, standing five feet six inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and seventeen pounds, she is the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection… and YOUR FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…LISA DREAM!”
The beautiful dark-haired Dream stretched both sets of limbs, keeping a watchful set of brown pools on her dogmatic challenger, Lisa ignoring the jeers and leers of the jealous Dreamophobes.
“Well,” Dream complained to Castle, her eyebrows raising. “Are you going to let me bury this rabble before midnight or not?”
Nick called for the bell and the match was underway with the clang of the bell.
Though she was never what you might call pleased to share her ring with an obvious Wannadream, Lisa at least looked less irritated than she had during her two prior title defenses. Oh, the leather-clad blonde’s presence was still a foul affront to her superlative sensibilities, but this one wasn’t drooling, chewing on her own hair or babbling to an imaginary friend and that was a marked improvement. Strolling forth once the match was live, Lisa’s perfect features crimped in some vague recognition as the challenger approached. Drawing to a stop several steps in front of her adversary, the Ultimate Image looked Tiffany up and down, then asked, “Weren’t you a brunette the last time I kicked your ass? And a schoolgirl?”
Mayes stopped, but didn’t miss a beat with her answer. “Weren’t you young enough to wear trunks the last time I kicked your ass? And sa--”
The Dream lashed a Bytch Slap at the shorter wrestler’s face, only to curse in most un-Dreamy fashion when Tiff dipped low and slipped ‘round behind. Catching hold of a snug Waistlock, Mayes dropped her hips and-- Lisa grabbed hold of the challenger’s wrists and held on tight, stuffing Tiffany’s takedown attempt. Mayes grunted, dug her clasped fists into Dream’s midriff and would’ve tried again if the Living Legend hadn’t jacked her jaw with a quick Back Elbow.
Tearing loose of the Waistlock as soon as Tiffany’s grip loosened up, Lisa spun through a go-behind of her own, grabbed a double handful of hair and simply yanked back to drive Mayes down flat with a Hair-Pull Mat Slam! Tiffany landed hard, rolled through to all fours and scrambled to verticality to “NNGGGHHH!” The Ultimate Image snapped off a quick Standing Roundhouse that clapped her right foot offa the side of her opponent’s skull! Dropped to the deck for the second time in almost as many seconds, Mayes wriggled in distressed protest when Lisa sank to her knees and settled into a casually smug Crossbody that earned…
HAIR PULL SLAM & DREAMY KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-ZE1-PE0cw
ONE…
TWO…
Tiffany powered out just after ‘TWO!’, but she couldn’t clear off quickly enough to stop Lisa from catching hold of her hair. “Yes, you were most certainly a brunette schoolgirl the first time we met.” Dream proclaimed in the midst of seizing Mayes’ wrists, left in right and vice-versa. Once that was done she pulled the crisscrossed forearms tight against the blonde’s throat and planted a knee between Mayes shoulders to complete the Straightjacket Chinlock. “That settles the question of what you were before, but what are you now?” Dream mused. “Besides my latest victim of course.” she emphasized this obvious fact by rudely jostling Tiffany’s hands up and down, up and down.
STRAIGHTJACKET CHINLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYZhmomowCQ
“Grrrrhhhhh… you wanna know what I am, heathen?” Mayes growled after she’d brushed off a question of surrender from Nick Castle. “I’m the righteous avenger that’s going to put an end to you AND your blasphemous red alter-egNNNNGGGHHH!”
Lisa stood up only to drop back to her previous position, the Reflection of Perfection just driving the point of that knee between her prey’s shoulders. “Ooooooohhhhh, THAT’S right.” Dream said in the tone of someone who’d just snapped their fingers. “You were one of Miranda’s brainwashed little puppets. You do know she’s long gone, don’t you, Wannadream? Trying to carry on the work in her absence just makes you look crazy.”
“Spuuuhhh…. spoken like a true expeRRRGHHHH!”
Smile falling away as that vile assignation left her opponent’s flawed lips, Lisa yanked the straightjacket up across Mayes’ mouth and nose and pulled back harder than ever. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to call me that, Wannadream. Especially when you’re moaning and gibbering to yourse--”
Tiffany leaned into Lisa’s posted knee, planted her feet and abruptly twisted to one knee. This didn’t actually free her from the Straightjacket, but it got her off of The Dream’s knee and from there it was only a matter of seconds before she powered to vertica--“OFH! OFH! OOFFFHH!”
Lisa rose alongside for the sole purpose of smashing the broadside of her thigh across the smaller wrestler’s lower back. “Don’t think you’re escaping this Perfect Prison so easily my hapless little convert.” the FAWN World Champion sneered. “In fact, you’re not going anywhere until you swear fealty to my righteous PerfectNNNNGGGHH!”
Tiffany raised a foot and STAMPED on The Dream’s right foot! As before this didn’t free her from the Straightjacket, so Mayes took a big step forward and dropped to one knee to flip Lisa onto her tush with a modified Snapmare. “You’re going to regret that, Wannadream.” Dream huffed as she rubbed her stinging tailbone. “I don’t take kindly to heretics in the Church of Flawless Dre--”
THWHACK! Tiffany smote a vicious Soccer Kick between Lisa’s shoulders, the force of it more than enough to freeze Lisa’s flawless phalanges into imperfect talons clawing at the air. Mayes had no problems letting Dream grasp at phantoms, it meant she wasn’t seeking out the challenger when the Inquisitor made a beeline for the ropes directly ahead of the seated champion. Lisa saw Tiffany leave and return, yet that seemed to be all she could do, the usually pugnacious perfectionist reduced to mere spectator until the moment Mayes caught her chin in both hands and flipped over at high speed, Mayes landing stretched out flat to THAWHUNK the base of her opponent’s skull against the deck!
BASEMENT BLOCKBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvSsXxvBhtI
Lisa bounced to a seat and rolled onto her stomach at once, the brunette’s forehead pressed to the mat so she could swaddle her noggin in both hands. Already on her feet, Tiffany leaned in to grab Dream’s hair only to draw back at the last moment. Turning away from the penitent lovely without so much as a word, Mayes ran the ropes to Lisa’s left. Picking up more speed with every step, Tiffany zeroed in on her target and slid in like a runner stealing home, the former Churchgoer THWHUMPING her heels into the brunette’s exposed ribs! Lisa ‘oooffffhed!’ and tumbled onto her stomach, the Ultimate Image dismissing the throb in her head for fresher, more nauseating agonies.
Dreamophobes everywhere urged Mayes to go for the cover, a suggestion she summarily ignored in favor of driving one heel down into The Dream’s tummy! Lisa sat up only to get knocked right back down courtesy of a short Penalty Kick delivered betwixt the eyes. Cheekily skipping over the retching battler on her way to the far corner, Mayes didn’t go to the high rent district, rather she whipped around on one heel and raced down her own back-trail. She was only a few long steps out when she took to the skies for a floaty head-first back-flip that brought her THWHUMPING down atop Lisa’s exposed tummy. Now Tiffany hooked the far leg and rolled into a tight Back Press that pointed Lisa’s perfect posterior at the lights for…
STANDING SHOOTING STAR PRESS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kZguYky3Oo
ONE…
TWO…
Dream kicked free simultaneous with ‘TWO’, Lisa perhaps a bit winded but nowhere near finished.
“What you call perfection is nothing more than heresy.” Tiffany told the Ultimate Image after she’d sidled behind The Dream and caught hold of her right wrist. “I’ll make you admit your sins in front of the world, heathen.” Mayes added. “I’ll make you suffer.”
“More than this?” Lisa grunted. “That hardly seems likeRRRRGGGHHHHHH!”
Tiff folded Lisa’s arm up behind her head, reached through the ‘triangle’ created by bicep and forearm with her own right hand to double down on the other brunette’s captured wrist. Reefing back and down on the simple hold, Mayes allowed herself a wicked, knowing smile as the so called ‘Ultimate Image’ writhed in her grasp.
INQUISITOR'S GRASP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVSO7B6Y3rs
“Confess whenever you’re ready, heathen. It will do wonders for whatever’s left of your miserable soul.”
Lisa growled, but it quickly turned to a mewling wince when the devout blonde wrenched Lisa’s captured limb all the farther.
“Sing for me, heathen,” Tiffany demanded. “The Church may have been reduced to its core, but I am its truth and its light and upon your beltless carcass I will rebuild it.”
The Dream leaned back into Mayes’ chest and together they rose, the World Champion grimacing through the ascension, ignoring the Inquisitor’s best efforts. The brunette spun out of the Armlock but not out of Tiffany’s grasp and Mayes yanked Lisa toward her, ramming her chest into the extended right shoulder of The Dream, apparently trying to dislocate it.
Lisa yelped in pain and the anguish only grew when the Churchgoer and apparently soon-to-be Churchbuilder used The Dream’s arm like a bull whip, cracking it and sending a yipping Lisa up to tiptoes in intense discomfort.
“You may try to create a flaw in perfection butAHHHHH”
Tiffany cracked the ‘whip’ again, shutting Lisa’s trap instantly. Dream supported her right arm with a clamping left palm against her bicep, teeth gritting in pain.
“Time for your exodus, flawed heathen,” Mayes pronounced.
She pivoted and used her handle to shoot Dream into a sprint to the far ropes. The champ rebounded, fire in her eyes. It was one thing to call her a heathen. But flawed? For that the Wannadream would pay.
Lisa charged at the stationed Mayes, planning to run roughshod with a dipped shoulder. But Tiffany bent at the waist, pressed her palms into the leather over Lisa’s legs and VAULTED her foe high into the Orlando night.
Lisa gracefully flipped though the trip to the canvas. Her landing was less than perfect, the Dream’s spine CRASHING into the canvas. The Ultimate Image twisted and arched in pain from the landing and a risen Mayes added to the backache with a whistling kick to her foe’s lower vertebrae.
The previously agnostic crowd got behind the Inquisitor and the blonde seemed a bit taken aback to see a few voluntary converts in the crowd. Tiffany motioned she’s going to break Lisa, ending the Dream’s reign and the support grew.
With Dream seated on the deck, legs extended, Tiffany snatched the champ’s left and raised the limb, quickly stepping on The Dream’s right ankle, pinning the opposite number to the mat. Lisa looked up, well aware what Miss Immoral Majority had in mind. She raised her palms and shook her head.
“If you know what’s good for youAHHHHHGAWWWD!”
There’s also a noticeable and disturbing ripping sound heard alongside Lisa’s howl.
The Luscious One was in agony as the Inquisitor dropped in the opposite direction of her pinned limb, forcing an awful set of splits from Lisa with the blonde’s Wishbone Leg Splitter. As Mayes rolled to her feet, Lisa’s lower limbs remained wide, her hands burying into the strained groin muscles between, a conspicuous split in the black leather at either juncture of inner thigh to torso, the skin tightness of Lisa’s leather backfiring as she received two new vents showing milky white skin created by the Churchbuilder.
Lisa’s welled eyes blinked away tears. She saw Mayes was presenting perfection without her permission and fury grew in the dark, flooded pools of The Dream.
It made no matter to the rampaging challenger who raced off the ropes and NAILED Lisa’s forehead with the point of her right knee, flattening Dream to the canvas in a shellshocked spreadeagle.
Tiffany skidded to a stop and, instead of covering the splayed title holder, she placed a boot sole against Lisa’s crotch. Grabbing the end of the left pant leg of Lisa’s leather, she tugged mightily, quickly increasing the size of the tear. Dream returned to coherence slowly with the continued tearing sound of her cowskin and the painful pressure on her womanhood.
“Let’s see if what you claim is true,” Mayes grunted between each breathy pull.
Finally, the shredding pants gave way and the blonde yanked off a full leg-worth of leather, showing off at least half a set of black lace panties beneath. The beaming alabaster perfection of Lisa’s lower left limb glowed like a beacon to the roaring crowd, the throng viscerally loving the sight so few enjoyed and the obvious distress it caused the apoplectic brunette.
“How? HOW DARE YOU?!” Lisa screamed in a stammer.
The challenger dared, twirling her prize, the leather lasso spinning above her head before Mayes tossed it into the stands and, by night’s end, Ebay.
The hammer throw of The Dream’s pant sleeve allowed Lisa to scoot on her partially bared butt cheek to the ropes and use them to rise. She hobbled along the cables, still working off the effects of the leg splitter, Tiffany quickly on the prowl after the champ.
A familiar froth grew in the corner of Lisa’s lips as she limped next to the strands, keeping an elbow crooked around the top as she mumbles incoherently. Nick closed with the champ, first insisting The Dream move away from the ropes, but a feral growl sent him off in a different direction. Nick didn’t bother counting, perhaps presuming the Inquisitor will remove the issue. Indeed, the blonde scoffed as she pushed past the official.
“I’ve dealt with the Black Queen and her minions,” Mayes barked at Castle. “I’m supposed to be frightened by some Red Bytch?”
Tiffany turned her attention back to her foe and found Lisa’s halted her retreat during the challenger’s discussion with the zebra, in fact turning on her foe and lifting her bared, ivory leg. She PLANTED the boot at the end into Tiffany’s crotch, the punt connecting with a meaty THWACK sending a shiver through many within range of the sound.
It’s the Churchbuilder’s turn to rise to tippy toes, jaw dropping wide, eyes saucers.
“Pray,” Lisa hissed, eyes spinning like a top, the telltale Scarlet personality of The Dream emerging. She lifted her ruby-tipped nails and scraped them across the widened brown pools of the frozen Mayes. Tiffany shrieked in pain and blindly waddled off, knees knocking.
“Pray to Miranda or the Vampire or to Heaven Above because it’s too late to pray you don’t bring out Ruby Red.”
Seemingly shot with three vials of adrenaline, The Dream charged a stooped Mayes, the challenger trying to stop hyperventilating from the vile double-play of Lisa’s alter ego.
Red Lisa zoomed in from the side and brought the hammer down, showing even in her Scarlet State Lisa could do more than rip and tear. The champ left the blonde facedown and lifeless from an emphatic Dreamsicle. Lisa’s overhand Clothesline to the back of Tiffany’s neck delivered the Inquisitor into the canvas and Dreamland all at once.
The frothing Lisa dropped to her knees, dark eyes shooting from side to side. Having forgotten for a moment what she’s to do with Mayes’ broken body, The Dream recovered enough of her wits to roll the blonde to her back and drop across the challenger’s chest for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Divine Intervention or the Devil’s own luck, whatever it was, it helped Tiffany Mayes get a shoulder off the mat with half a second to spare. Still deep in the throes of her red madness, Lisa snapped a few incoherencies at Nick Castle before returning her ire to the gobsmacked blonde. Burying both hands in Tiff’s hair, Red Lisa scrambled to verticality and forced Mayes to do the same but once they reached their destination she seemed at a loss for what to do nex--
‘Oooooooohhhhh OOOOOHHHHHHH!’ the sold out crowd murmured, then groaned when Red Lisa stepped back and began to spin in place without relinquishing her hold on Mayes’ hair. The result was more a twirl than Giant Swing because the challenger never actually left her feet, however her long locks were stretched to their utmost and her pained keening grew louder by the second. A bit farther removed from the action than he would’ve liked (he didn’t want to get clobbered by either of his charges) Nick Castle shouted, “Let go of her hair, Lisa! Let go I said!” The Vermillion Villainess only laughed like a loon and continued to spin, thus forcing the Senior Official to call out, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Red Lisa let loose, the sudden un-tethering sending her opponent careening into the ropes and back, both trips made in a nauseatingly awkward lurch. The off kilter approach didn’t bother Red Lisa in the slightest, she waited motionless in the center of the squared circle, her arms spread wide until-- she lunged in and hooked her right arm beneath Mayes’ right bicep so that the blonde’s arm was snugged tight against the side of the champion’s neck. In the same instant she snaked her right arm around Tiffany’s neck and grabbed hold of her own left forearm which was up at that level because Red Lisa had gone back to tugging and yanking at her own hair!
RED CLUTCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptwfVBLzeSc
This wasn’t immediately apparent due to thrashing and twisting from both wrestlers, indeed Nick almost warned Lisa to get her hand outta Tiffany’s hair before he realized the Perfect Psychopath was inflicting this particular punishment on herself. Eventually recognizing the trap as a sort of Standing Triangle Choke, Castle got as close as he dared before asking, “You still in this, Tiffany? What do you say, need me to call for the bell?”
“Nuuuuhhhh… NO!” she burbled. “I won’t fall to a madwomAAARGGGHH!”
Red Lisa yanked the smaller wrestler up on tiptoe and ragdolled her for several seconds presumably because she enjoyed all the squealing and squirming. “Heh, heh, heh.” the Crimson Calamity giggled in her prey’s ear. “Drift off into my pretty red nightmare, WannadreRRGGHH! RRGGGHH! RRGGHHH!”
Not nearly so helpless as the World Champion might’ve guessed, Mayes balled her left hand into a fist and pounded several quick, shiv-like shots into her tormentor’s right flank. When that didn’t pop the lock on Red Lisa’s demented trap, the challenger inquired as to the location of the brunette’s waistband and once she found it, raised it by several inches. This rough adjustment displeased both incarnations of the FAWN World Champ so she dipped her knees and hauled Tiffany into the sky, the former Churchgoer’s legs swinging up under Red Lisa’s stranglin’ arm even as she laid out on her back to THAWHAM Mayes down flat!
SIDE EFFECT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7i4tstYrO7s
Enduring far worse than dry mouth and dizziness in the wake of this Side Effect, Mayes offered nothing in the way of meaningful resistance when the brunette stretched out atop her chest and bundled both legs tight for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Tiffany kicked out, the force of it flopping the vulnerable blonde onto her stomach. Above her, Red Lisa closed her eyes and Lisa Dream opened them. Breathing heavily, the Ultimate Image ran her hands through her hair and looked around until she found the referee. “Good lord, Castle. I just had the worst nightmare. I was wrestling that urchin Tiffany Mayes and she actually had the AUDACITY to attack my…” The Dream’s hands ventured south to pat her thighs, one still sheathed in its leather armor, the other… the other…”
Eyes wide, Lisa patted her bare thigh, looked down and shrieked in perfectly incredulous rage. On her feet in the blink of an eye, Dream went straight for Nick, who backpedaled until he bumped into the far corner. “WHERE IS IT?” she bellowed in his face. WHERE DID THAT… THAT… TROGLODYTE WANNADREAM PUT MY LEATHER?”
Castle tipped his head in the direction of the front row. “She threw it to the crowd, Lisa. Let it go, it’s gone.”
Lisa didn’t wait around to refute this ludicrous claim, she simply stormed to the hard camera side, mounted the second rope and shrieked, “GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME YOU’LL NEVER SEE MY PERFECTION AGAIN!”
The idiots gathered for March to War cuh-learly didn’t grasp the severity of this threat because they responded with a veritable wall of cheers that did nothing for Lisa’s state of mind. Hopping down from her perch before their concentrated flaws could infect her perfection, The Dream turned her back on the jeering throng and took several deep breaths.
“It’s fine. It’s FINE. You can put Raker on retainer to track, then sue the ass off whatever pathetic mouth-breathing Wannadream ever dared to put their nacho-smeared fingers on…”
Lisa trailed off when she realized Tiffany Mayes was slowly making her way to all fours. Hot Red Rage boiled up at the back of her throat, but The Dream clenched her perfect pearlies until the worst of it faded into the background. “So, you want to show perfection to the masses, do you, Wannadream?” she almost whispered. “Well if you’re going to attempt such a feat, you should at least do it right.”
With that, Dream hooked her fingers into the split seam in her surviving leather and tore it loose with several maniacal yanks! This raised a cacophonous roar from the FAWNatics, not that Lisa paid it any mind. Focused on nothing but the shorn leather held tight in both hands and the penitent Wannadream responsible for this sartorial blasphemy, The Dream stalked up behind Mayes and deftly wrapped the leather garrote around her opponent’s throat!
“GUUUUHHHHRRRRK!” Tiffany reared back on her haunches, both hands flying to the shorn pant-leg digging into her windpipe.
“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?” Lisa screamed at the flailing challenger. “ANSWER ME, WANNADREAM! IS THIS WHAT YOU WANNGGHH!”
Mayes fought to one knee, reached over her head with both hands and grabbed hold of Lisa’s hair just to drop to her butt which in turn drilled the champ’s chin into the crown of her skull! The Jawbreaker loosened that damned leather enough for Tiff to tear it away, it did not however slow Lisa long enough to get her out of The Dream’s grasp. Catching Mayes by trunks and tresses as she rose, the Reflection of Perfection whipped ‘round in a half circle and charged to the other side of the ring where she promptly tossed the Inquisitor over the top NO!
Tiffany caught hold of the strands and pulled herself onto the apron, much to Lisa’s disgust. “Get your miserable Wannadream ass out of my OOFFFFHHH!” Mayes shot a Shoulderblock between the top and middle rope to send The Dream back clutching her midsection. Making quick note of the champ’s position, Tiffany slung her right leg over the middle rope, stepped on the bottom and launched herself into the squared circle with a pretty little leap that turned downright ugly when she wrapped her arms around Lisa’s head and right arm and dropped to the deck to THAWHONK Lisa’s perfect pate into the thinly-sheathed plywood courtesy of a Springboard Tornado Flatliner.
SPRINGBOARD TORNADO FLATLINER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVWfB7O9qJY
Straddling The Dream’s waist as soon as she flopped onto her back, Tiffany reached back and hooked a leg behind the knee to ensure she earned the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Seemingly off in a DreamWorld of her own, the lifeless Lisa spasmed back to semi-coherence, shooting a shoulder off the mat, disappointing the masses. The brunette rolled to her side, but was stuck there, her senses trying to catch her reflexes.
The Inquisitor wasn’t in the best of condition either, but the Churchmaker was at least of her own twisted, dogmatic mind. She pushed to her feet, giving Castle a death stare for not performing his job appropriately.
As The Dream made it to a seated position, Mayes turned her attention back to the World Champion, sinking her nails into the scalp of the Reflection of Perfection. The blonde ripped a wobbling Lisa to her feet and ROCKED her with a pair of European Uppercuts. Tiffany backpedaled to the ropes behind her and rebounded into a feet-first leap toward The Dream. Her tanned legs cinched tight around Dream’s cranium, the momentum of her flight swinging the blonde and Lisa around in an orbit that moved from one revolution to two and three. Finally, Mayes released her Flying Headscissors and Lisa’s sent flipping through the air, skidding to a halt near a corner.
AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 MAYES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjXm_uNjpbI
Drunkenly, The Dream pushed to her feet and fell into the buckles behind her, throwing an arm over either set of ropes to stay upright. Within seconds, Tiffany RAMMED her with a flying Hip Check. She dipped and scooped the rattled Dream off her feet, tipping Lisa over and into Body Slam position. But instead of sending her foe’s spine crashing to the canvas, Mayes set the pits of The Dream’s knees over the top cable on either side and trapped Lisa’s luscious and bare legs within the ropes.
With an overturned Lisa trapped in the Inquisitor’s Tree of Woe, a snarling Tiffany jogged to the opposite buckles and charged. Taking to the air from a few feet out, the challenger sent a gutting Dropkick into Dream’s midriff, waking Lisa into a fit of breathless coughs and groans. Unfortunately for the Ultimate Image, she remained stuck in the Tree, a delighted Mayes bouncing to her feet.
“You’re worthless to my new Church,” Tiffany pronounced to the writhing, panicking Dream, “but I envision a place of honor for your rosy counterpart.”
Lisa shrieked in fury but was quickly shut down when Tiffany dropped an elbow into Lisa’s perfect privates, a loud groan emanating from the crowd, many mid-sympathy pain. The silver lining from the vile crotch shot, Lisa tumbled from the Tree and settled in a fetal ball, hands buried between her alabaster lower limbs.
“Before Red can join and help me rebuild my Church, you must be cleansed,” Tiffany informs.
She sank her fingers into the champ’s dark locks and pulled The Dream out of her shell, tugging Lisa to rubbery legs. Mayes dipped and swung an arm through Lisa’s trembling stems. She ‘hupped’ the Personification of Perfection across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry, holding to seemingly let Lisa understand the error of her ways, then tossed her foe’s legs out behind her, laying out and demolishing Lisa with her throwback ‘It’s Academic’.
IT’S ACADEMIC:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dx8tFnjrTLQ
The wrecked Dream absently flopped to her back, splayed in a spreadeagle. Mayes moved to a penitent position next to the destroyed Dream. The blonde raised both hands high, palms pointed heavenward before throwing them down upon Lisa, one landing on her foe’s chest, the other her tummy, perhaps hoping to cast out the original Lisa with the arrogant pin.
Castle dropped beside the domineering display and slapped the mat for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
From somewhere in the depths of a legendary career, in FAWN and elsewhere, Lisa Dream refused to relinquish her title, eking a shoulder off the canvas.
A furious Mayes pulled the dazed Lisa to a seat and sent forearm after forearm into The Dream’s flawless features before tossing the dilapidated Dream away in frustration. Tiffany rose to her feet and ran her fingers through her long golden locks.
“I will use you to remake MY CHURCH,” a steaming Mayes insisted. “For if so-called perfection can be pacified AND I take my place on the highest altar of the organization, no one can deny me.”
The proclamation allowed Lisa to roll to her chest and weakly push to hands and knees. She turned her head to the hovering blonde and shook her head.
“It’s just a Dream,” Lisa bleated ironically.
The title holder paid for her comment with a vicious kick to the temple that left Dream out on her face and chest. But instead of rolling Lisa to her back and proceeding to another pin, Mayes mounted her foe in a standing, reverse-facing straddle. The blonde lowered to snatch both of Lisa’s legs at the ankles and settled into a crouch, arching The Dream’s vertebrae in directions they were never meant to go.
The pain revived the champion, but quickly The Dream wished it hadn’t. As the Inquisitor leaned back, moving Dream’s heels closer to her shoulderblades, Lisa bit her lip, sending her fingers into her own locks and yanking, this time to spread the pain instead of the crazy. Tiffany dropped into a vile bridge, amping the anguish and Lisa could resist no longer, howling in agony.
“Surrender.” Mayes implored. “Surrender your delusion of perfection to me. Become my disciple and the pain will be removed forever.”
Nick dropped to his haunches in front of the wailing champion.
“Just say the word, Lisa. I’ll get you out of this.”
The Dream removed her hands from her mane and took a swipe at the official but missed. She shook her head violently when she’s asked again.
Apparently determining The Dream needed further testimony, Tiffany rolled out of her bridge, releasing the bedeviling Boston Crab, ending on her knees. She gave a massage to her lower back before lacing her fingers into a Double Axhandle and ramming the joined fists into the base of Lisa’s spinal column. The momentary relief of release was replaced with new waves of pain for The Dream as she arched in anguish, then rolled to her back protect the point of torture from the Inquisitor.
The blonde used Lisa’s positioning instead, keeping her axhandle tight and thrusting it down into the raised midriff of the champion, impaling the Ultimate Image, flattening Lisa to the canvas.
Mayes placed a palm upon Dream’s forehead. As Castle dropped for another atypical pin, Tiffany shook her head.
“No. She must learn her place before becoming the first of my flock reborn.”
Rising, the Inquisitor slowly maneuvers the barely conscious Lisa to her feet. It’s an ordeal, but nevertheless, it’s managed by the challenger.
With Lisa, bent at the waist, Tiffany wrapped her left arm over the back of Lisa’s neck, securing a Front Facelock, while grapevining her near leg with that of The Dream. She’s ready to bring MayesDay to FAWN more than a month early and turn an ascendant Dream into an obedient devotee of the Church and its new leader and World Champion.
The Inquisitor hunched forward over her opponent’s vulnerable frame, then snapped back NO! Dream sank to her right knee, effectively stuffing that righteous head-drop for at least another couple of seconds. Far from amused by the delay of her inevitable apotheosis, Mayes grabbed hold of that beleaguered leather waistband and used it to haul the wounded champion to vertic--Lisa crumpled again, either through exhaustion or the nauseating proximity of so much imperfection.
Dark eyes cold and hard, Tiffany squeeeeeeeeeeezed the Front Facelock, but made no effort to yank Lisa to her feet. Instead she demanded, “Rise, you piece of heathen trash.”
“Kuuuuhhhhh… kiss my Perfect ass, you pathetic WannadreaAAAAARRRRRRHHHHHHH!”
Tiffany spidered her free hand beneath the World Champ’s waistline, caught hold of the simple lace panties beneath and yanked a fistful out for those assembled to inspect! That insidious wedgie brought The Dream to her feet at once, perhaps a bit too fast as the abrupt shift in position forced Mayes to backpedal to keep her balance. In the end that was all the window Perfection needed to fashion an escape. Slapping her arms around the blonde’s midsection in a tight Waistlock, Lisa dipped low and popped her hips to take Tiffany up, over and down onto her back with a snappy Northern Lights Suplex.
Already close to the action, Nick Castle was in perfect position to count the pin but he never had to because the Ultimate Image somersaulted backward over the prone challenger and scrambled to boot-leather without even trying for a cover. This didn’t mean a respite for Mayes, just the opposite actually. Soon as she was upright Lisa took to the skies in an impressive vertical leap and THWHUMPED both heels into Tiff’s sternum! The resultant jolt from her imperfect crash-pad meant Lisa dropped into an awkward bum on tummy landing, but she made the best of it by hooking Mayes’ legs behind the knees and leaning forward in a snug Matchbook that lasted through…
NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX & DOUBLE STOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhGBnl2RfBg
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Tiff got a shoulder off the mat half a second before ‘THREE’ and Lisa scrambled to her feet at once, not to continue the assault but to march right up to Nick Castle so she could demand, “I WANT HER DISQUALIFIED! THAT WANNADREAM RUINED A PERFECT PAIR OF PANTS AND USED MY TRUNKS TO GAIN AN ILLEGAL ADVANTAGE!”
“Lisa, if I disqualified her for that wedgie, I’d have to disqualify you whenever you conducted a Bittersweet Symphony. Now you don’t want that, do you?”
Lisa raised a finger to object, then lowered it without comment. After a moment she said, “Wannadream still owes me a pair of pants.”
The sound of imperfect shuffling on her six got Dream’s attention and she rounded on the challenger at once, Lisa rushing to bury her hands in Mayes’ hair so she could control the pace of her prey’s return to verticality. Punishing the blonde’s abs with a few well-timed Kneelifts, Lisa twisted in place and deftly transitioned from hair-hold to Three Quarters Facelock, which in turn gave way to a Snapmare that put the Inquisitor flat on her butt in the middle of the ring. Now that Tiff’s placement was perfect (or at least as close to perfect as a Wannadream could ever achieve) Lisa ran the ropes in front of the challenger and returned in a dead sprint that meant maximum impact when she THWONKED her right knee between the seated blonde’s eyes!
NIGHTMARE ON DREAM STREET:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOVnw6IwVWw
Knocked into a glassy-eyed sprawl by the mind-numbing horror of that Nightmare on Dream Street, Mayes only burbled soft nothings when Lisa circled back and scraped her off the mat with a double handful of hair. “Did you really think I was some fusty old icon you could simply desecrate en route to the gold?” The Dream growled after shoving Tiffany’s noggin between her thighs. “That you could have your way with perfection and there would be no consequences?” Lisa trailed off as she let her fingertips ‘walk’ down the taut curve of the Inquisitor’s glutes. “Well I’m here to tell you, Wannadream… there are ALWAYS consequences.”
In this case the consequences came in two acts, the first being a scathing wedgie that made a good three quarters of Tiffany’s already scant briefs disappear in the span between heartbeats. That was only prologue, however. The Dream’s true vengeance began when she cupped her hands into Perfect Paddles and unleashed some perilous percussion on her prey’s bared buns. Even the most tin-eared of Dreamophobes found themselves tapping a toe along with that gorgeous gluteal riffing, Lisa’s hands fading to a fearsome flicker though there was no missing the myriad palm-shaped welts that blossomed on her foe’s buns.
The Bittersweet Symphony lasted for upwards of ten seconds, ultimately culminating with a mercilessly loud double slap, Lisa’s percussive palms just CRA-CRAAACKING offa Mayes devastated derriere. Rather than toss her instrument aside at the end of the show, Lisa relinquished the Headscissors only to catch the smaller wrestler’s noggin in a Front Facelock. Slinging Tiffany’s near arm across her shoulders, the Ultimate Image hooked her foe’s left leg in a snug standing cradle, then bent her knees and powered the smaller wrestler overhead for a Fisherman’s Bust-- Dream swung Mayes back the way she’d came while simultaneously dropping to her butt, Lisa with the seamless segue to the Sit-Out Powerbomb marked the Third Verse in her Ode to Perfection. Tiffany bounced on impact, just not high or far enough to prevent Dream from gluing her to the canvas with a one-legged cradle good for…
ODE TO PERFECTION, VERSE THREE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaLjZhQ8YYE
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Mayes shot a shoulder up and twisted onto her belly, the Inquisitor escaping by the slimmest of margins. Gripped by an incredulity that would’ve paralyzed a lesser will, Lisa clambered to her feet, rounded on Castle and screamed, “THAT. WAS. THREE!”
Nick shook his head. “Sorry Lis, it was only two--”
Dream was on him in a single long bound, one hand on the man’s collar while the other drew back for a face-tingling bytch slap. “Don’t even THINK about it, Dream.” the ref said as calmly as he could. “Touch me and I’ll call for the--”
CRAAACK!
Lisa slapped her own face once, twice, three times, then crooked that hand into a claw and scored her perfection from forehead to chin almost half a dozen times!
“Stop it Dream!” Castle barked. “Get a hold of yourself and focus on the ma--”
Red Lisa looked up, offering the senior official a smile like charring paper. “Dream’s not here, Mr. Doctor.”
Such proximity to Red Lisa was the last thing Nick Castle wanted, thankfully the Violent Vermillion Vixen dismissed him with a snort and stalked back to Tiffany Mayes, who’d just made it to her feet. A Forearm Smash across the shoulders froze the challenger’s already scrambled defenses, allowing Red Lisa ample time to twist ‘round back to back and cup her right hand across the blonde’s chin. Catching hold of Mayes’ right wrist in her left hand, Lisa stretched the limb away from her opponent’s torso, then kicked her right leg forward and whipped it back to lay out on her tummy in relative comfort while poor Tiffany landed with every bit of her weight CRASHING down on the back of her head and shoulders!
PERCHANCE TO DREAM @ 00:03
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLJ89fhy0gU
Somersaulting onto her tummy following the cruel landing, Mayes mumbled something that might’ve been a plea for mercy, alas it fell on Red ears. Muscling the challenger’s deadweight off the mat in stages, the Ultimate Image of Human Depravity spun in place, cupped the back of Tiffany’s skull with her right hand and neutralized her left arm by draping it across her shoulders. Holding that wrist tight, Red Lisa whipped her right leg up, then down, the champ coming down on her tummy for the second time in less than a minute, only now poor Mayes THAWHONKED down on the crown of her skull!
DAY DREAMER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLJ89fhy0gU
Tent-spiked, then starfished by the gawdawful Day Dreamer, Tiffany offered nothing butt breathless nuzzled supplications to Red Lisa’s domineering tush when she scurried forward and planted that ruined leather atop upturned mug. Hip grinding and other theatrics were wholly unnecessary, yet that didn’t stop Big Red from ‘smacking’ both hands down on her throne’s tummy even as Castle swooped in to count the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Red Lisa grinned, dug her perfect talons into Tiffany’s gulping abs while the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall and STILL the FAWN World Champion… LISA DREAM!”
Even the nasty pair of tummy-tucking belly claws weren’t waking Mayes from her deep slumber and Red Lisa was not satisfied with the lack of response.
“You wanted me? You got me, bytch!” she shrieked. The Scarlet Psychotic lifted her cheeks and bounced them atop the beak of the broken blonde, ignoring Castle’s pleas to rise from the demolished Inquisitor.
“I’m just showing this it’s proper respect,” she frothed, spitting some bubbles from the corner of her mouth as she ranted at the backpedaling Nick.
She continued to use Tiffany’s head as a butt basketball while turning to the nearest lens.
“Don’t tell you know who!” she giggled. “She doesn’t like it when I’m in the driver’s seat.”
Red Lisa lowered into said seat and started to slide forward and back, slowly at first, then increasing her speed. Her eyes rolled white as she panted heavily, the crowd in stunned and rapt silence as Big Red released her Big ‘O’, screaming to the back row at climax.
The victor dismounted the vanquished, deep breaths diminishing as she relaxed on her haunches, leaving Mayes glazed. And as her pulse slowed, the Ultimate Image seeped into her meat suit.
Aghast at not what she’s done to Tiffany but that she allowed the fans to see what only those approaching her perfection should, The Dream rolled out of the ring and snatched her belt from an attendant. She strode up the aisle and ramp in a perfect snit, clearly unhappy Red claimed tonight’s defense, the dripping juice down her ivory thighs evidence she couldn’t deny.
********