Post by hawkeye on Apr 13, 2020 1:03:28 GMT
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
VS.
ALEJANDRA FERNANDEZ
EURASIA TITLE
MATCH
HELL IN A CELL
Even for the FAWNatics, accustomed as they were to spectacle, the sight of five tonnes of steel mesh and unyielding, impenetrable fencing descending from the ceiling was enough to chill one to the bone. Ominously, it dropped, the gargantuan frame not only large enough to swallow the ring entire, but all of its surrounding territories as well, the dimmed lighting casting the hellish structure in a crimson glow as it groaned and growled into place. With an audible ‘CLANG’ it settled into its new moorings, entrenched and foreboding, inviting two young women to enter… and only allowing one to leave as EurAsia Champion.
As more than one member of the audience swallowed to moisten suddenly parched throats, the Houselights slowly returned to normal…
…before the sound system burst into life, sending a tidal wave of elation throughout the ranks of the FAWNatics, heralding the arrival of the People’s Princess in all of her freckled cheeked glory.
FEEL INVINCIBLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gco_SAvHVSM
The packed arena officially lost their collective sh*t when the stage became illuminated, revealing the EurAsia Champion for all to see, standing tall and wrapped in the gold and sapphire of her family’s proud colours.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
Perfectly petite, the Upstart Supreme swung her arms up high and wiggled her fingers, flashing her most winning smile as she clued in her supporters that it was time for them to join in. So prompted, the People collectively brought their hands together in rhythm with their Princess…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…before following up with a loud cheer as the Babyfaced Darling pointed dramatically towards the squared circle, pyrokinetics exploding to either side of her on the entrance in a bombastic display.
Statement of intent made, the brunette of petite proportions set off down the ramp at a brisk and lively pace as she made her way to the ring, diverting from her destination as she spotted the youngest members of the audience in the front rows, delivering crisp high fives and passing out a few hugs to make their evenings.
Standing in at five foot four and one-hundred and ten pounds, her spirited demeanour made her every inch the crowd favourite. Daring and disarming, she melted even the most hardened of hearts.
About her trim midriff snuggly sat ten pounds of coveted strap, the EurAsia Title golden and gleaming and it was, as the tips of Sammie’s fingers drummed atop of it, clearly a cherished possession, one she had spent most of the year touring with across the two continents she represented. It was a punishing schedule, to always be spearheading the FAWN brand outside of the States, but it was one she accepted gladly, and would fight fiercely to retain.
Arriving at her destination, the lithe, gold clad grappler came to a temporary halt, setting pretty peppers upon the structure that had swallowed more than one career. Sammie licked her lips ever so slightly before exhaling deeply, closing her eyes as she fought down an all too familiar, oh so overwhelming fear that, even now, years after her accident, threatened to undo her.
Steeling her resolve, the Little Sparrow buried her trepidations with the same, Sinclair Spirit that had seen her overcome a crippling injury. She had survived a broken neck, Samantha reminded herself, she would survive this, regardless of the outcome.
Emboldened, Sammie opened her eyes of baby brown and darted forwards, her stride light as she approached the Cell’s entrance and she strode through, bounding up the steel steps before she slipped between the top and middle ropes. She pumped her little fist up into the air, and the Loyalist Legionnaires in the arena answered to her salute with gusto.
Somewhat reluctantly, Sinclair surrendered her EurAsia Title and handed it to the Official, resolving there and then to claim it back before the end of the evening. She was not surprised to find her Official for the contest was of the grey-haired variety, occasions such as these were rarely entrusted to the greenhorns of their profession.
He held up the gold plated, leather strap up high for all to see as Sammie turned her own eyes to the ramp, determined to not only meet, but finally bring an end to this particular, sustained assault on her Title.
She did not have to wait long…
THESE STREETS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FqbAASW_iLI
Without hesitation, the Challenger, Alejandra Fernandez surged through the curtains, her path to the ring straight and narrow, her regard for the audience settling somewhere between little and none, every inch of her chiselled physique primed to unleash violence at a moment’s notice. Her five foot three and one hundred- and twenty-two-pound frame was wrapped tightly in one hundred percent leather, the tightness of its curves leaving little to the imagination and exposing a great deal of glistening, ebony skin.
ALEJANDRA FERNANDEZ
Daisy LeMay was no-where to be seen, the bountiful blonde and ‘brains’ of Bad Reputation conspicuous in her absence, a wave of suspicion rippling throughout the ranks of the FAWNatics. Such misgivings did not prevent them from finding their voices however, a chorus of BOOs accompanying the arrival of the Mexican Mauler.
Alejandra paid them no heed, rolling her shoulders as she approached the massive, enclosed steel structure that was to be her prison for the foreseeable future and now, as she was faced with it for the first time in her career, she paused at its threshold. She snorted, dark eyes narrowing, and while it’s very presence could overwhelm even the stoutest of hearts, Fernandez inhaled deeply before vigorously pumping both of her arms, ‘reloading’ her biceps.
Slapping both of her palms against the steel mesh, the Prototype made her way through the entrance to the Cell and ascended the steel steps, entering the squared circle without further ceremony. She paused scarcely a foot from Samantha Sinclair, the Champion and Challenger separated by only the Official.
Neither backed down, both were ready to go.
“Just you and me now, Sinclair,” Alejandra rumbled, low and threatening, her broad stature poised and ready to advance. “No-body else.”
“Well, sure,” Sammie nodded, undeterred. “Glad we’re finally on the same page.”
Angered by the perceived slight, Alejandra opened her mouth to retort when…
BAD THINGS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA
…emerged from the sound system.
Mystified, all eyes turned to the stage, the FAWNatics stunned into silence until, finally, ‘I’m gonna do Bad Things,” heralded the arrival of one, Lady Lydia Lethbridge. She strode out into sight, perfectly poised, dark eyed and superior, tightly clasping a silver tipped, black cane in hand topped with a beautifully crafted, carnivorous wolf head, planting it into the ground in front of her as she, with covetous intent, surveyed the Kingdom that she was due.
LADY LYDIA LETHBRIDGE
The welcome of the masses was far from pleasant, but a Lady cared not for the opinions of the middle classes, and she indulged their scorn with an aloofness that betrayed that her lack of regard for them knew no bounds. Instead she silently revelled in their undivided attention, her own gaze turning to the squared circle, the condescending curl of her lips revealing her duplicitous intent.
Back inside the ring, Sammie, now deeply perplexed, looked to the Official for assistance, but given that she was rewarded with a shrug from the man in black and white, she looked to Fernandez. She was somewhat surprised to discover that Alejandra was clearly as much in the dark as she was, irritation writ both across her features, and in the tenseness of her shoulders.
Following a light nibbling on her bottom lip, the EurAsia Champion decided (as was usually the case) that the best course of action, was the most direct one.
“Be right back,” Sammie apologised to Alejandra, securing for herself a stick before striding on over to the closest set of ring ropes to the stage. She waited politely and, when it became obvious that Lethbridge wasn’t about to make the first move, Sinclair opened a dialogue with her fellow Brit.
“Lydia, right?” she began, perpetually pleasant as was her nature. “I don’t think we’ve met; can I help you.”
The look on the face of Lethbridge soured immediately, silently suggesting that she could not have been more offended if she had been directly addressed by a rodent. Holding out one, manicured hand, Lydia accepted a microphone of her own, retaining her place on the stage and lacing her tone with disdain.
“You will address me as your Ladyship,” she corrected the People’s Princess, annunciating her words slowly as though speaking to a slow-witted infant. “Or you will not address me at all.”
The FAWNatics didn’t take kindly to that, and she displayed even less regard for their feelings than she did her own Nations commoners.
“You will be silent,” she explained to the masses, her tone scathing, “your betters are conversing.”
They especially didn’t like that, but she continued on as though she had cowed them into submission.
“Fear not, little Chav’s,” Lydia returned the entirety of her (dis)regard to the squared circle. “I possess no desire to become involved in an event of such,” she paused, encompassing the towering, hellish construct before her with an idle wave of her hand, “prestige. But I do possess a certain, how should we say, investment in the sanctity of the prize at stake, so I would simply hate to see it mired by, what is the word… shenanigans?”
Samantha said nothing, resisting the urge to peek a protective glance at the coveted, EurAsia Title that Lethbridge was referring to, the ravenous desire that Lydia possessed for it practically palpable.
“With that in mind, I may have suggested to the powers that be that a,” her Ladyship paused, her expression coy and full of selfish delight. “Firmer hand be put in place to officiate this contest.”
KILLER INSIDE OF ME
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-ykAnJRPiw
…emerged from the sound system and, all too quickly, everyone came to see what Lethbridge intended.
Pushing her way out past the curtains, one Cleona Flynn appeared in all of her imposing glory, the ginger topped, Scottish Sociopath kitted out as though she were about to engage in a personal warpath, hands shoved firmly into the pockets of her leather jacket as she marched down the ramp. To date, little had been seen of her Ladyship’s personal enforcer, but what had been said behind the scenes at Developmental painted a picture of methodical violence, and overwhelming force.
CLEONA FLYNN
She strode in a straight line for the squared circle as though the infamous cage that surrounded it did not exist, paying it zero mind as she barged through the gate and approached the steel steps. With deliberately little ceremony, and even less regard, she pounded up the steel steps and ducked into the ring, at five foot six and one hundred fifty-two pounds, she domineered over her two charges in both height and weight, a ‘Gaelic Goddess’ within the Hell in a Cell.
“Alright mate,” Cleona addressed the Official directly, “you’re not needed, so get f*cked and all that.” She thrust her head in the direction of the exit, her lack of patience implying that he should get a move on.
He hesitated for a moment, the man in black and white listening to his earpiece before nodding reluctantly, evidently displeased with the turn this evening was taking. “Sorry girls,” he apologised to Sammie and Alejandra, “it’s all legit, there’s nothing I can do.”
Fernandez said nothing, her displeasure betrayed by the tension in her shoulders.
The People’s Princess, on the other hand, was far more diplomatic, offering him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he left. “It’ll be ok,” she promised, turning her eyes back to the newly arrived Cleona, her expression becoming considerably more wary, “I’m sure she’s on the level.”
Flynn snorted in amusement; it was an ugly sound within the foreboding structure, one that lingered for longer than it should.
As the Official exited the ring, the door was closed behind him, Lady Lydia Lethbridge passing by as the padlock sealed the Cell shut. She had sauntered down the aisle at a stately pace, her stride and manner regal as she brandished her silver tipped cane, graciously waving to the competitors for the evening as she made her way to the commentators table. Her smile radiated duplicitous intent, her presence an ill omen.
“Alright then, you two,” Cleona addressed both EurAsia Champion and Challenger without paying either one of them a great deal of attention, turning her back as she strode on over to the closest corner. She hauled herself up the turnbuckles until she could turn herself about and sit on the top one, satisfied with her position as she made herself comfortable.
“Get to it,” she prompted, waving her hand about in general disinterest. “Not much by way of rules in here until one of you is too f*cked up to keep going, so start wrecking each other’s sh*t already, so I can do what I have to and toss off.”
Regardless of what she had said, Sammie was less than convinced that the Gaelic Goddess was on the up and up, the Upstart Supreme undeniably wary as she adjusted her shorts and kept a concerned eye on Flynn. After a brief nip on her lip before inhaling deeply, she nodded in resolve to keep…
…Fernandez SLAMMED a boot deep into Sinclair’s unprotected tummy, taking full advantage of her Rival’s obvious distraction as she surged into the breach. The FAWNatics called fowl, but they had little grounds to protest, the girl of the affections folding forwards with a deep exhale as she almost dropped down to her knees, blindsided by the attack.
Alejandra kept her upright, grasping her by her shoulders and RAMMING a methodical kneelift right up into the folded young woman’s midriff. Sammie gasped again, momentarily jolted up onto her tip toes as her knees started to shimmy, threatening to give out even as she wrapped her arms about herself for protection.
Unfortunately, bowed as she was, that left her wide open to Fernandez rearing backwards, raising both of her arms above her head, and then SLAMMING a Double Axe Handle Smash down onto the vulnerable space between her shoulders. This time, Sinclair did drop down to her hands and knees, the WHACK to her spine accompanied by a yelp from the petitely packaged Brit, the People’s Princess rendered penitent before the Mexican Mauler.
Fernandez, still on her feet, kept both of her hands clasped together and, after inhaling deeply, leapt up into the air to achieve greater velocity before she SLAMMED both of her fists down into the small of her adversaries back, almost crumpling the young woman’s spine and flattening her to the deck.
GO SOUTH OF THE BOARDER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppsAJ7uc-2U
Alejandra remained on one knee, observing her handiwork with the Upstart Supreme splayed out before her, the Muscle of Bad Reputation wiping the back of her hand across her jaw as she, for the first time, turned her gaze warily in the direction of Cleona Flynn. The Scottish Sociopath seemed as disinterested in the pair under her charge as she did before and so, with a territorial flexing of her biceps, Fernandez turned her attention to the cage that surrounded them.
Dark thoughts forming, and with Sammie planting her palms on the canvas in an effort to push herself back up, Alejandra grabbed her opponent by the scruff of her neck and the belt of her shorts, rising quickly and dragging the lighter brunette with her. With a sharp pivot and a shout, she all but tossed the rubber kneed Brit through the top and middle ropes and to the outside of the ring.
The FAWNatics watching gasped with concern as the girl of their affections cleared the apron and damn near reached the Cell wall before she collided with the barely padded concrete outside the ring, a heart-breaking yelp escaping from her body as landed shoulder first.
Alejandra followed after, dropping down outside the ring and zeroing in on her prey with bullish intent, the anticipation from the Muscle of Bad Reputation bleeding of her in waves. Gamely, Sammie was already attempting to get back up onto her feet, finding one knee before Fernandez grabbed her by the throat. With a heave, she bodily lifted Sinclair the rest of the way off the deck, and SLAMMED her back first against the rigid, steel fencing that made up the Cell wall!
The brunette recoiled, the EurAsia Champion almost toppling back towards the floor with a pained grunt had Fernandez not retained her grip. Seizing a wrist, Alejandra pivoted and whipped the gold clad battler in the opposite direction, sending her towards a wicked collision with the apron!
Sammie collided with the hardest part of the ring front first, her tummy capitulating as a great gasp escaped her trim body, the young woman folding forwards. Her torso was now back inside the squared circle, whilst her stems continued to dangle out of it, Fernandez grasping her by the belt of her shorts to drag her back off her perch.
Somehow, as she was pulled away from the edge, Samantha remained standing, wincing with one arm dangling at her side as she swallowed ever so slightly, struggling to catch up with current events. She did manage to voice a small protest as Alejandra reclaimed her free wrist, but that was just about all she could accomplish before she was bullied into an insistent Irish Whip!
Set off at a sprint, Sinclair launched into an involuntary dash along the outside the ring and, as disaster loomed, some manner of survival instinct kicked in and she was, at the very least, able to turn herself about into the impending impact. Which was just as well, given that her destination was the steel steps, Sammie releasing a sharp YELP as she collided with the impromptu barricade with an audible CLANG!! echoing across the arena.
Following a tense spasm, the young woman collapsed into a slump, inhaling deeply as she leaned back against the furniture, her torso hiking with the sharp breaths as she otherwise remained still, sat with her stems spread out into a V and her hands laying idly at her thighs.
Rolling her neck first, Alejandra dropped down to one knee and moved swiftly into step two of her planned escalation, lifting the loose canvas to see what instrument of violence she could discover. She didn’t take long, the FAWNatics catching on all too quickly and serenading her with boos, even more so as she returned to vertical with a steel trashcan in hand.
“We’re done,” she promised in no uncertain terms, standing back up and grasping each end of her imposing weapon with her tensed fists. The low, measured timbre of her tone struggled to contain her violent obsession, the young woman advancing with trashcan raised high above her head, “I’m through with you standing in my way.”
Reaching her destination, she released a low growl and, shoulders primed, she swung down her weapon with all of her might…
…which caused more than a few FAWNatics to look away, which only ensured that they were unable to witness Sammie roll out of the way. With pretty peepers opening at the last moment, the People’s Princess peeled herself off the steel steps and rocked sharply to the side, much of her upper torso momentarily disappearing beneath the ring.
For Alejandra, this was a less than pleasant experience, with no Babyface to be sandwiched, Fernandez instead SMASHED her trashcan into noticeably unyielding furniture, the unexpected, jarring impact sending spasms spiking up to her shoulders and turning her fingers numb. She snapped out a snarl as she dropped her crumpled projectile and stumbled away, shaking out her arms in effort to regain feeling.
Clenching her fists, Fernandez buried her frustrations deep as she turned back around, shoulders squared as she resolved that this would not derail her, Sinclair still within reach as…
…the Upstart Supreme fully re-emerged from beneath the apron, crying out a (not exactly) fearsome war cry as she swung for the fences with her own, snagged weapon in hand. The FAWNatics WHOOPED as the liberated kendo stick WHACKED Alejandra across her thighs, the Prototype snapping out an uncharacteristic yelp of her own as she hopped away, her skin already swelling from the bamboos SLAP!!
“You know,” Sammie began, blinking rapidly a few times before shaking her head, regaining her senses and pushing herself back up to vertical. “This isn’t usually my thing,” she admitted, adjusting her grip on her mock sword as she released a deep huff, the scrunching her button nose a clear and present sign of her Babyfaced dander. “But given the circumstances,” she advanced, cutting off the Prototypes desire to regroup by WHACKING her a second time, her swing connecting with the back Alejandra’s shoulders, forcing her to yelp once again. “I can kind of see the appeal.”
Fernandez retreated, hugging the outside of the apron in her instinctual efforts to get away, but Sammie, somewhat disgruntled by her own mistreatment, gave steady chase, giving as good as got by delivering one CRACK!! after another with her bamboo weapon. After the fifth strike, Alejandra dropped down to one knee, still trying to get away as she clutched the canvas.
Sammie, as it happened, had one more swing to give, WHACKING!! the kendo stick over the back of her adversaries’ noggin, the integrity of the weapon in her hands finally giving out as it splintered down the middle. The audience voiced their disappointment that the salvo was apparently over as the Mexican Mauler slumped forwards, Sinclair looking at the hilt of her broken weapon with a pout.
“I suppose I could say something about the thickness of your skull,” Sammie released a small huff, discarding the remains of the kendo stick before tucking her palms beneath both of her Challengers shoulders. “But that would be mean,” Sinclair inhaled a deep breath, the EurAsia Champion attempting to bodily lift the uncooperative remains of her opponent back into the ring. “So, I won’t.”
With more effort than she was happy with, Samantha managed to lift, wedge and roll Alejandra back into the squared circle, dusting her hands off before she began to follow, pulling herself up onto the apron with assistance from the ropes. “I know it’s terribly tempting given the circumstances,” she started to reason, ducking low to step between the top and middle ropes. “But perhaps we could take all of this as a learning experience, and keep the rest of the festivities inside the ring. Sound good?”
Alejandra, haven risen up onto her hands and knees, didn’t offer an answer, cradling the back of her head as vivid welts became painfully visible across her shoulders. Samantha felt a little bad, as she advanced, but being as Fernandez had developed a nasty habit of cracking Sinclair over the head with her own Title over the course of last few months, she figured a little turnaround was fair play.
Slipping a palm back under one of Alejandra’s shoulders, Sammie prepared to hoist her up…
…only for Fernandez to pivot her hips sharply and SLAM her forearm up into the unprotected sex of the People’s Princess!! Forcibly popped up onto her tip toes by the punishing low blow, one tensed bicep wedged up between her split open thighs, the perfectly petite brunette circled her lips in a silent, shocked groan, her knees suddenly all of a shimmy as she almost toppled sideways.
Alejandra caught her, immediately capitalising on her crippling play, gathering the lighter young woman up into her grasp as she stood tall and, with bullish efficiency, muscled the smaller girl up to perch over one shoulder. With Sinclair’s trim tummy neatly folded forwards over the broad joint, and her momentarily paralysed legs hanging down over the back, Sammie was stiffly secured, high above the canvas, like an adorable sack of potatoes. Further solidifying her adversaries rising predicament, Fernandez clamped her free palm across the back of her foes neck, neatly locking her place with little chance of escape.
Panic rose quickly in the ranks of the FAWNatics, even as the Prototype inhaled deeply and began running across the ring, dead set of completing her charge with her increasingly dreaded, Running Powerslam!!
GRINGA KILLER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JUkTTyFc5s&t=29s
Building momentum across almost the full length of the ring, Alejandra released an aggressive shout, SLINGING Sammie earthwards and following through with her own, muscled physique as she SLAMMED!! the Upstart Supreme into the scarcely yielding plywood! The canvas flexed with an audible bang as Sammie released a loud, mournful groan, her shoulders planted and her trim tummy impaled with enough force that had put her down for the count before. A sharp spasm ran through the length of her legs as they kicked out in recoil, before she slumped out on the deck with a quivering in her thighs, and soft moans escaping from her compressed torso.
Fernandez, atop the flattened Sinclair, hooked one of the girl’s legs and prepared to pin the EurAsia Champion for her coveted Title. She exhaled deeply in time with each count that was about to follow.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE?
Alejandra, still breathing heavily, realised something was amiss, shoving up from her perch when enough adrenaline had been purged from her system for her to realise that no-one was counting. Shoving her way up to kneeling, she shot an accusatory glare in the direction of Cleona, the Scottish Sociopath infuriatingly still sat on the turnbuckles. With gritted teeth, the Mexican Mauler was about to make her displeasure known, when Flynn cut her off with a disinterested wave of her arm, vaguely pointing out the still moaning Sammie’s second stem.
Lo and behold, that athletic, left leg of Sinclair was indeed, perhaps fortuitously, tucked under the bottom rope, rendering any attempt at a pinfall null and void. Cursing her own, lack of ring awareness in the heat of the moment, Fernandez dropped down to pin Sammie for a second time, only now ensuring that she had both of the other young woman’s submissive legs hooked, rolling her up into an even tighter ball.
As for Cleona, she couldn’t quite bring herself to vacate her perch, but she did begin clapping her hands together by way of declaring a count.
ONE!
TWO!!
Sammie SHOVED up a shoulder, much to the delight of the FAWNatics, and much to the agitation of Alejandra. As if to visualise her frustration, she GRABBED Sinclair by her curls before SLAMMING a forearm down into the side of her noggin, forcing the brunette to remain plaint as she remained puddled on the mat. Further securing her grip of the Brits mane, Fernandez used both of her hand to haul her for back up to standing, bullying the stumbling girl towards centre ring with forceful tugs.
Exchanging her grip for one of Sammie’s wrists, Alejandra squared her own posture before pivoting about, launching her opponent into and Irish Whip.
Forced to do so, Sinclair dashed across the canvas, years of experience ensuring that she turned about as she arrived at the ring ropes, the athletic young women rebounding off the taunt coils at even greater velocity. She was sprinting now, returning to sender, and the Muscle of Bad Reputation had her lined up for a STIFF Clothesline…
…which the People’s Princess ducked clean underneath, neatly evading the impact that could have damn well, near beheaded her. She kept on going, the Brit building up speed as she stepped on the accelerator, a cheer building amongst the FAWNatics as Sammie suddenly dived forwards into a delightfully dynamic handstand. As she landed on her hands, and her feet whipped up into the air, momentum demanded that her stems keep on going over, and Sinclair was happy to oblige, athletic legs connecting with the second set of ring ropes at considerable speed and rebounding with enough force for her to rapidly reverse course.
In no time at all, Sinclair had returned to her feet and, with a fierce(?) cry, WHIPPED her perfectly petite physique up and over into a blistering, beautiful, Enziguri Kick!!
HANDSPRING ENZIGURI
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIzZGwdLhtU
Alejandra had turned around just in time to get WHACKED across the side of her head for her troubles, her eyes losing focus as the CRACK of boot leather meeting cheek filled the arena. Fernandez didn’t fall over, as much as she apparently wanted, the punch-drunk Prototype instead stumbling backwards in a dazed stupor, coming to a rest only once she reached the ring ropes behind her, and her arms became entangled in the top rope. There she slumped, shaking her head, having enough trouble trying to remember her own name, never mind understand what had just happened.
Sammie, perhaps only in comparison, was looking visibly better than her Challenger, although she did stumble upon returning to her feet. With a shake of her head, followed by nod of self-affirmation, Sinclair braced herself for action and lined herself up with Alejandra. Before anyone could have even thought of advising her otherwise, she shot off at a sprint, the crowd watching enrapt as she suddenly THREW herself into the air, FLINGING herself forwards into a Spear!!
With Fernandez a sitting duck, the Upstart Supreme positively IMPALED her toned midriff with her shoulder, Alejandra folding like a twig and, with a great deal of momentum behind them, both young women were sent hurtling through the top and middle ropes and CRASHING to the outside of the ring.
Ultimately, the concrete was waiting for them both, and as the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance began chanting…
“WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!! WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!! WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!!”
…both Champion and Challenger were left in pained heaps.
Even Cleona, still sat on her perch watching, was beginning to display signs of interest, although not enough to actually get down from the turnbuckles.
“One day,” Sammie exhaled painfully, rolling over onto her side before grasping the rigid, chain link fencing that made up the Cell’s wall, “I’ll follow my own advice.” With more than a little effort, she began to pull herself upwards, managing to find her knees before…
…an equally pained Alejandra GRABBED her by the back of her head, and violently SLAMMED her noggin into the steel with excessive force!!
Sammie’s eyes went vacant the moment her forehead collided with the unyielding barricade, those baby browns staying open but showing little signs of life. She offered no effort to pull away as she slumped back onto her haunches, Fernandez retaining her grip of her hair as the Mexican Mauler pushed herself back up to standing. With a grunt, and without ceremony, Alejandra shoved her free hand under Sinclair’s compliant shoulder and bodily hauled the slighter young woman up onto her feet, turning her about before grasping her firm thighs and hupping her up off of her feet.
With Sammie now back within her grasp, Fernandez adjusted her grip to securely hug her arms about the EurAsia Champions slim midriff, Sinclair’s athletic stems instinctively popping up to wrap about Alejandra’s own hips in reply. With deliberate intent, Fernandez FLEXED her biceps sharply, grinding her opponent with a tight squeeze, the petite Brit releasing a low moan as her pert bosom hiked from the dreaded constriction. She curled the moment the intense pressure was relented, her back leaning into a relieved arch, her pert bosom soon pointing upwards towards the ceiling.
Twisting her cargo to the left, Alejandra suddenly pivoted sharply to the right, quite literally ‘swinging for the fences’ and WHACKING her foes back, shoulders and noggin viciously into the unforgiving, steel mesh of the chambers walls. If Sammie wasn’t hanging limp before, she most certainly was now, moaning and groaning as Fernandez was free to have her way in transitioning her submissive cargo into a different embrace. Soon enough, Sinclair was secured, high above the concrete, by way of a Cross Body Press, and Alejandra had already picked out her next target.
With her shoulder’s rigid, The Muscle of Bad Reputation set off at a sprint and, while the FAWNatics called out in denial, there was no stopping her from SLAMMING the small of Sammie’s already abused back into an impossibly hard Ringpost!!
As something audible seemed to pop in the young woman’s spine, a sharp, mournful yelp escaped from the body of the People’s Princess, the flash of blinding pain snapping the brunette out of some of her stupor as she hung in a pained heap in her adversary’s arms. She blinked several times, trying to process the damage, and even as she continued to wince, Fernandez was still bodily carrying her about the ring with impunity.
With a distinct lack of care, Alejandra dropped Sinclair back onto the apron, breathing deeply yet methodically as she shoved her competitor beneath the bottom rope at a roll. Sammie came to a stop a few feet later, flopping out across her back with her limbs flung out in a spread eagle, button nose scrunched up in pain as her pert bosom hiked irregularly. Valiantly, she tried to get up, but nothing seemed to be responding, Sinclair instead slumping into a steaming puddle.
Fernandez, satisfied with her labour, grabbed the middle rope and began to haul her own weary frame back into the ring. She pulled one knee up onto the apron before pausing, dark eyes never leaving Sammie before her whilst she considered her options. The FAWNatics didn’t like where this was going, but they had no choice in the matter, not as Alejandra reversed course and dropped back down to the concrete. Without further hesitation, she dropped down to her knees and lifted the canvas, her upper torso disappearing beneath the bottom of the ring.
It didn’t take her long to secure an old favourite, pulling back out into sight with a good old-fashioned steel chair in hand. Clutching her weapon tightly, she stood back up to vertical and witnessed that Sinclair, the Upstart Supreme, nothing if not stubborn to the core, had managed to roll over onto her front and was, painfully slowly, pushing her way back onto her hands and knees.
Alejandra ducked back into the ring, rolling beneath the bottom rope and finding her feet far more swiftly than Sammie could ever hope to, Sinclair’s own footing shaky and uncertain. Fernandez, in a brief bout of sadism, considered allowing the Brit to fully recover her bearings, only to spike her with a chair shot the moment the girls clarity resurfaced, but she quickly thought better of it.
Raising her weapon high, the Prototype tensed her powerful shoulders and inhaled deeply…
…only for Sinclair, in a flash of desperation, to kick out low! With a WHACK, the sole of her boot connected with Alejandra’s exposed knee, Fernandez releasing a shocked yelp as the joint gave out beneath her. Forcibly penitent, the Mexican Mauler somehow managed to retain a hold of her weapon, holding it out before her as shield.
That, as it turned out, proved to be an error, Sammie riding a wave of Babyfaced momentum as she stepped back before SURGING forwards, lightning quick as her coveted, athletic right leg snapped out with a beautiful Sammie Kick!! The sole her boot SLAMMED against the folded face of the steel chair, and the impact went onto CRACK!! the furniture square against Alejandra’s exposed features!!
The FAWNatics erupted as Fernandez toppled over onto her side, dark eyes open yet vacant as she slumped down onto the canvas in a stunned heap.
The EurAsia Champion, in far too much pain to exercise greater fanfare, just about toppled down to the mat beside her, albeit under some measurement of control, the young woman rolling her Challenger over with a small huff before moving to secure a pinfall.
Even Cleona Flynn had seen fit to drop down from her perch of the turnbuckles, thankfully not taking too long to kneel down on the mat and begin counting…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
Sammie, with a deep exhale of relief, rolled free from her challenger as Alejandra remained unresponsive, the People’s Princess elated despite her various injuries, closing her eyes for a moment as the bell rang to confirm her victory, and the sound system burst bursting into life to play her music…
FEEL INVINCIBLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gco_SAvHVSM
With a visible wince, the petite brunette forced her way up to sitting, grimacing again before nodding to herself in positive, self-affirmation as she started to stand up. Somewhat surprised to find the outstretched arm of another to help her get back up, Sammie didn’t question the offer as she braced herself against the stronger woman, a weary thankyou forming on her lips for the Scot…
…until Cleona Flynn lived down to the crowd’s expectations and, without warning or hesitation, she ensnared the weakened EurAsia Champion tightly and RIPPED her up off her feet, near effortlessly muscling the perfectly petite Brit up into a spine wrenching wrack across her powerful shoulders. She then FLUNG herself backwards, pausing only to crank her blindsided victim once to pop an already abused vertebra, gravity, momentum and a great deal of personal power all combining in concert to bodily PLANT!! Samantha into the canvas!!
CELTIC DROP: @0:15 Onwards
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xG3K3agXbG4
The moment Sinclair was DRIVEN into the deck, her music stopped playing over the sound system, and the FAWNatics called fowl as one, their collective elation transforming into despair. Sammie bucked sharply with a loud groan, her small body forcibly emptied all of its air, the young woman folding sharply for an instant before flopping out across the mat. The recoil was enough to roll her over onto her front, and there she remained with her right stem twitching with small spasms.
Without even remarking on her ambush, Cleona wasted no time in getting back up to her feet, making note of the fallen Brits position as she turned herself about. Without ceremony, the crowd could only watch on as Flynn jumped, sat out in mid-flight, and DROPPED almost all one hundred and fifty-two of her pounds down hard on the back of the Upstart Supremes head and shoulders!!
LEG DROP: @0:09
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kU3mD9XZwkc
In a limp spasm, Sammie’s own, athletic stems kicked up into the air before they flopped back down to the deck, utterly impotent as the miniature brunette showed no further signs of life. Finally, Cleona saw fit to observe her handiwork, perhaps looking more bored by the devastation she wrought than any other emotion.
Outside the Cell, Lady Lydia Lethbridge saw fit to have her presence be more directly felt, emerging from her place behind the commentary table and politely applauding the efforts of her hired help. At a stately pace, she collected the EurAsia Title from the Timekeeper as various Officials were scrambling to unlock the Cell door. Just as they were able to do so, she shooed them away with a withering glare, striding into the hellish structure as though it were part of her Kingdom.
Flynn got up then, making her way over to the ropes as her Ladyship made her way towards the ring, Cleona spreading the top and middle coils to let the wicked brunette in. With scarcely a further glance in the direction of her ‘hired help’, Lethbridge sauntered on over to the fallen Sinclair’s side, and domineeringly planted an immaculate boot down on the small of the fallen young woman’s back, grinding her heel in a small circle as she did so.
“Let this be a lesson,” she said for the benefit of the hard camera, Lethbridge gazing thoughtfully at the beautifully carved, silver wolfs head mounted at the head of her cane. “In the nature of hierarchy. All that you possess,” she paused, turning her gaze wistfully to the gleaming, stolen, EurAsia Title within her grasp, “is mine to collect. Enjoy your bauble for the time being, my dear little commoner,” Lydia dropped the coveted strap down across the unresponsive shoulders of Sinclair, “I’ll be expecting payment at Spring Break.”
Without further word, her Ladyship stood imperiously for the hard camera, her boot mounted on the back of Samantha, her dominance asserted over a Princess.
BAD THINGS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA
VS.
ALEJANDRA FERNANDEZ
EURASIA TITLE
MATCH
HELL IN A CELL
Even for the FAWNatics, accustomed as they were to spectacle, the sight of five tonnes of steel mesh and unyielding, impenetrable fencing descending from the ceiling was enough to chill one to the bone. Ominously, it dropped, the gargantuan frame not only large enough to swallow the ring entire, but all of its surrounding territories as well, the dimmed lighting casting the hellish structure in a crimson glow as it groaned and growled into place. With an audible ‘CLANG’ it settled into its new moorings, entrenched and foreboding, inviting two young women to enter… and only allowing one to leave as EurAsia Champion.
As more than one member of the audience swallowed to moisten suddenly parched throats, the Houselights slowly returned to normal…
…before the sound system burst into life, sending a tidal wave of elation throughout the ranks of the FAWNatics, heralding the arrival of the People’s Princess in all of her freckled cheeked glory.
FEEL INVINCIBLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gco_SAvHVSM
The packed arena officially lost their collective sh*t when the stage became illuminated, revealing the EurAsia Champion for all to see, standing tall and wrapped in the gold and sapphire of her family’s proud colours.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
Perfectly petite, the Upstart Supreme swung her arms up high and wiggled her fingers, flashing her most winning smile as she clued in her supporters that it was time for them to join in. So prompted, the People collectively brought their hands together in rhythm with their Princess…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…before following up with a loud cheer as the Babyfaced Darling pointed dramatically towards the squared circle, pyrokinetics exploding to either side of her on the entrance in a bombastic display.
Statement of intent made, the brunette of petite proportions set off down the ramp at a brisk and lively pace as she made her way to the ring, diverting from her destination as she spotted the youngest members of the audience in the front rows, delivering crisp high fives and passing out a few hugs to make their evenings.
Standing in at five foot four and one-hundred and ten pounds, her spirited demeanour made her every inch the crowd favourite. Daring and disarming, she melted even the most hardened of hearts.
About her trim midriff snuggly sat ten pounds of coveted strap, the EurAsia Title golden and gleaming and it was, as the tips of Sammie’s fingers drummed atop of it, clearly a cherished possession, one she had spent most of the year touring with across the two continents she represented. It was a punishing schedule, to always be spearheading the FAWN brand outside of the States, but it was one she accepted gladly, and would fight fiercely to retain.
Arriving at her destination, the lithe, gold clad grappler came to a temporary halt, setting pretty peppers upon the structure that had swallowed more than one career. Sammie licked her lips ever so slightly before exhaling deeply, closing her eyes as she fought down an all too familiar, oh so overwhelming fear that, even now, years after her accident, threatened to undo her.
Steeling her resolve, the Little Sparrow buried her trepidations with the same, Sinclair Spirit that had seen her overcome a crippling injury. She had survived a broken neck, Samantha reminded herself, she would survive this, regardless of the outcome.
Emboldened, Sammie opened her eyes of baby brown and darted forwards, her stride light as she approached the Cell’s entrance and she strode through, bounding up the steel steps before she slipped between the top and middle ropes. She pumped her little fist up into the air, and the Loyalist Legionnaires in the arena answered to her salute with gusto.
Somewhat reluctantly, Sinclair surrendered her EurAsia Title and handed it to the Official, resolving there and then to claim it back before the end of the evening. She was not surprised to find her Official for the contest was of the grey-haired variety, occasions such as these were rarely entrusted to the greenhorns of their profession.
He held up the gold plated, leather strap up high for all to see as Sammie turned her own eyes to the ramp, determined to not only meet, but finally bring an end to this particular, sustained assault on her Title.
She did not have to wait long…
THESE STREETS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FqbAASW_iLI
Without hesitation, the Challenger, Alejandra Fernandez surged through the curtains, her path to the ring straight and narrow, her regard for the audience settling somewhere between little and none, every inch of her chiselled physique primed to unleash violence at a moment’s notice. Her five foot three and one hundred- and twenty-two-pound frame was wrapped tightly in one hundred percent leather, the tightness of its curves leaving little to the imagination and exposing a great deal of glistening, ebony skin.
ALEJANDRA FERNANDEZ
Daisy LeMay was no-where to be seen, the bountiful blonde and ‘brains’ of Bad Reputation conspicuous in her absence, a wave of suspicion rippling throughout the ranks of the FAWNatics. Such misgivings did not prevent them from finding their voices however, a chorus of BOOs accompanying the arrival of the Mexican Mauler.
Alejandra paid them no heed, rolling her shoulders as she approached the massive, enclosed steel structure that was to be her prison for the foreseeable future and now, as she was faced with it for the first time in her career, she paused at its threshold. She snorted, dark eyes narrowing, and while it’s very presence could overwhelm even the stoutest of hearts, Fernandez inhaled deeply before vigorously pumping both of her arms, ‘reloading’ her biceps.
Slapping both of her palms against the steel mesh, the Prototype made her way through the entrance to the Cell and ascended the steel steps, entering the squared circle without further ceremony. She paused scarcely a foot from Samantha Sinclair, the Champion and Challenger separated by only the Official.
Neither backed down, both were ready to go.
“Just you and me now, Sinclair,” Alejandra rumbled, low and threatening, her broad stature poised and ready to advance. “No-body else.”
“Well, sure,” Sammie nodded, undeterred. “Glad we’re finally on the same page.”
Angered by the perceived slight, Alejandra opened her mouth to retort when…
BAD THINGS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA
…emerged from the sound system.
Mystified, all eyes turned to the stage, the FAWNatics stunned into silence until, finally, ‘I’m gonna do Bad Things,” heralded the arrival of one, Lady Lydia Lethbridge. She strode out into sight, perfectly poised, dark eyed and superior, tightly clasping a silver tipped, black cane in hand topped with a beautifully crafted, carnivorous wolf head, planting it into the ground in front of her as she, with covetous intent, surveyed the Kingdom that she was due.
LADY LYDIA LETHBRIDGE
The welcome of the masses was far from pleasant, but a Lady cared not for the opinions of the middle classes, and she indulged their scorn with an aloofness that betrayed that her lack of regard for them knew no bounds. Instead she silently revelled in their undivided attention, her own gaze turning to the squared circle, the condescending curl of her lips revealing her duplicitous intent.
Back inside the ring, Sammie, now deeply perplexed, looked to the Official for assistance, but given that she was rewarded with a shrug from the man in black and white, she looked to Fernandez. She was somewhat surprised to discover that Alejandra was clearly as much in the dark as she was, irritation writ both across her features, and in the tenseness of her shoulders.
Following a light nibbling on her bottom lip, the EurAsia Champion decided (as was usually the case) that the best course of action, was the most direct one.
“Be right back,” Sammie apologised to Alejandra, securing for herself a stick before striding on over to the closest set of ring ropes to the stage. She waited politely and, when it became obvious that Lethbridge wasn’t about to make the first move, Sinclair opened a dialogue with her fellow Brit.
“Lydia, right?” she began, perpetually pleasant as was her nature. “I don’t think we’ve met; can I help you.”
The look on the face of Lethbridge soured immediately, silently suggesting that she could not have been more offended if she had been directly addressed by a rodent. Holding out one, manicured hand, Lydia accepted a microphone of her own, retaining her place on the stage and lacing her tone with disdain.
“You will address me as your Ladyship,” she corrected the People’s Princess, annunciating her words slowly as though speaking to a slow-witted infant. “Or you will not address me at all.”
The FAWNatics didn’t take kindly to that, and she displayed even less regard for their feelings than she did her own Nations commoners.
“You will be silent,” she explained to the masses, her tone scathing, “your betters are conversing.”
They especially didn’t like that, but she continued on as though she had cowed them into submission.
“Fear not, little Chav’s,” Lydia returned the entirety of her (dis)regard to the squared circle. “I possess no desire to become involved in an event of such,” she paused, encompassing the towering, hellish construct before her with an idle wave of her hand, “prestige. But I do possess a certain, how should we say, investment in the sanctity of the prize at stake, so I would simply hate to see it mired by, what is the word… shenanigans?”
Samantha said nothing, resisting the urge to peek a protective glance at the coveted, EurAsia Title that Lethbridge was referring to, the ravenous desire that Lydia possessed for it practically palpable.
“With that in mind, I may have suggested to the powers that be that a,” her Ladyship paused, her expression coy and full of selfish delight. “Firmer hand be put in place to officiate this contest.”
KILLER INSIDE OF ME
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-ykAnJRPiw
…emerged from the sound system and, all too quickly, everyone came to see what Lethbridge intended.
Pushing her way out past the curtains, one Cleona Flynn appeared in all of her imposing glory, the ginger topped, Scottish Sociopath kitted out as though she were about to engage in a personal warpath, hands shoved firmly into the pockets of her leather jacket as she marched down the ramp. To date, little had been seen of her Ladyship’s personal enforcer, but what had been said behind the scenes at Developmental painted a picture of methodical violence, and overwhelming force.
CLEONA FLYNN
She strode in a straight line for the squared circle as though the infamous cage that surrounded it did not exist, paying it zero mind as she barged through the gate and approached the steel steps. With deliberately little ceremony, and even less regard, she pounded up the steel steps and ducked into the ring, at five foot six and one hundred fifty-two pounds, she domineered over her two charges in both height and weight, a ‘Gaelic Goddess’ within the Hell in a Cell.
“Alright mate,” Cleona addressed the Official directly, “you’re not needed, so get f*cked and all that.” She thrust her head in the direction of the exit, her lack of patience implying that he should get a move on.
He hesitated for a moment, the man in black and white listening to his earpiece before nodding reluctantly, evidently displeased with the turn this evening was taking. “Sorry girls,” he apologised to Sammie and Alejandra, “it’s all legit, there’s nothing I can do.”
Fernandez said nothing, her displeasure betrayed by the tension in her shoulders.
The People’s Princess, on the other hand, was far more diplomatic, offering him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he left. “It’ll be ok,” she promised, turning her eyes back to the newly arrived Cleona, her expression becoming considerably more wary, “I’m sure she’s on the level.”
Flynn snorted in amusement; it was an ugly sound within the foreboding structure, one that lingered for longer than it should.
As the Official exited the ring, the door was closed behind him, Lady Lydia Lethbridge passing by as the padlock sealed the Cell shut. She had sauntered down the aisle at a stately pace, her stride and manner regal as she brandished her silver tipped cane, graciously waving to the competitors for the evening as she made her way to the commentators table. Her smile radiated duplicitous intent, her presence an ill omen.
“Alright then, you two,” Cleona addressed both EurAsia Champion and Challenger without paying either one of them a great deal of attention, turning her back as she strode on over to the closest corner. She hauled herself up the turnbuckles until she could turn herself about and sit on the top one, satisfied with her position as she made herself comfortable.
“Get to it,” she prompted, waving her hand about in general disinterest. “Not much by way of rules in here until one of you is too f*cked up to keep going, so start wrecking each other’s sh*t already, so I can do what I have to and toss off.”
Regardless of what she had said, Sammie was less than convinced that the Gaelic Goddess was on the up and up, the Upstart Supreme undeniably wary as she adjusted her shorts and kept a concerned eye on Flynn. After a brief nip on her lip before inhaling deeply, she nodded in resolve to keep…
…Fernandez SLAMMED a boot deep into Sinclair’s unprotected tummy, taking full advantage of her Rival’s obvious distraction as she surged into the breach. The FAWNatics called fowl, but they had little grounds to protest, the girl of the affections folding forwards with a deep exhale as she almost dropped down to her knees, blindsided by the attack.
Alejandra kept her upright, grasping her by her shoulders and RAMMING a methodical kneelift right up into the folded young woman’s midriff. Sammie gasped again, momentarily jolted up onto her tip toes as her knees started to shimmy, threatening to give out even as she wrapped her arms about herself for protection.
Unfortunately, bowed as she was, that left her wide open to Fernandez rearing backwards, raising both of her arms above her head, and then SLAMMING a Double Axe Handle Smash down onto the vulnerable space between her shoulders. This time, Sinclair did drop down to her hands and knees, the WHACK to her spine accompanied by a yelp from the petitely packaged Brit, the People’s Princess rendered penitent before the Mexican Mauler.
Fernandez, still on her feet, kept both of her hands clasped together and, after inhaling deeply, leapt up into the air to achieve greater velocity before she SLAMMED both of her fists down into the small of her adversaries back, almost crumpling the young woman’s spine and flattening her to the deck.
GO SOUTH OF THE BOARDER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppsAJ7uc-2U
Alejandra remained on one knee, observing her handiwork with the Upstart Supreme splayed out before her, the Muscle of Bad Reputation wiping the back of her hand across her jaw as she, for the first time, turned her gaze warily in the direction of Cleona Flynn. The Scottish Sociopath seemed as disinterested in the pair under her charge as she did before and so, with a territorial flexing of her biceps, Fernandez turned her attention to the cage that surrounded them.
Dark thoughts forming, and with Sammie planting her palms on the canvas in an effort to push herself back up, Alejandra grabbed her opponent by the scruff of her neck and the belt of her shorts, rising quickly and dragging the lighter brunette with her. With a sharp pivot and a shout, she all but tossed the rubber kneed Brit through the top and middle ropes and to the outside of the ring.
The FAWNatics watching gasped with concern as the girl of their affections cleared the apron and damn near reached the Cell wall before she collided with the barely padded concrete outside the ring, a heart-breaking yelp escaping from her body as landed shoulder first.
Alejandra followed after, dropping down outside the ring and zeroing in on her prey with bullish intent, the anticipation from the Muscle of Bad Reputation bleeding of her in waves. Gamely, Sammie was already attempting to get back up onto her feet, finding one knee before Fernandez grabbed her by the throat. With a heave, she bodily lifted Sinclair the rest of the way off the deck, and SLAMMED her back first against the rigid, steel fencing that made up the Cell wall!
The brunette recoiled, the EurAsia Champion almost toppling back towards the floor with a pained grunt had Fernandez not retained her grip. Seizing a wrist, Alejandra pivoted and whipped the gold clad battler in the opposite direction, sending her towards a wicked collision with the apron!
Sammie collided with the hardest part of the ring front first, her tummy capitulating as a great gasp escaped her trim body, the young woman folding forwards. Her torso was now back inside the squared circle, whilst her stems continued to dangle out of it, Fernandez grasping her by the belt of her shorts to drag her back off her perch.
Somehow, as she was pulled away from the edge, Samantha remained standing, wincing with one arm dangling at her side as she swallowed ever so slightly, struggling to catch up with current events. She did manage to voice a small protest as Alejandra reclaimed her free wrist, but that was just about all she could accomplish before she was bullied into an insistent Irish Whip!
Set off at a sprint, Sinclair launched into an involuntary dash along the outside the ring and, as disaster loomed, some manner of survival instinct kicked in and she was, at the very least, able to turn herself about into the impending impact. Which was just as well, given that her destination was the steel steps, Sammie releasing a sharp YELP as she collided with the impromptu barricade with an audible CLANG!! echoing across the arena.
Following a tense spasm, the young woman collapsed into a slump, inhaling deeply as she leaned back against the furniture, her torso hiking with the sharp breaths as she otherwise remained still, sat with her stems spread out into a V and her hands laying idly at her thighs.
Rolling her neck first, Alejandra dropped down to one knee and moved swiftly into step two of her planned escalation, lifting the loose canvas to see what instrument of violence she could discover. She didn’t take long, the FAWNatics catching on all too quickly and serenading her with boos, even more so as she returned to vertical with a steel trashcan in hand.
“We’re done,” she promised in no uncertain terms, standing back up and grasping each end of her imposing weapon with her tensed fists. The low, measured timbre of her tone struggled to contain her violent obsession, the young woman advancing with trashcan raised high above her head, “I’m through with you standing in my way.”
Reaching her destination, she released a low growl and, shoulders primed, she swung down her weapon with all of her might…
…which caused more than a few FAWNatics to look away, which only ensured that they were unable to witness Sammie roll out of the way. With pretty peepers opening at the last moment, the People’s Princess peeled herself off the steel steps and rocked sharply to the side, much of her upper torso momentarily disappearing beneath the ring.
For Alejandra, this was a less than pleasant experience, with no Babyface to be sandwiched, Fernandez instead SMASHED her trashcan into noticeably unyielding furniture, the unexpected, jarring impact sending spasms spiking up to her shoulders and turning her fingers numb. She snapped out a snarl as she dropped her crumpled projectile and stumbled away, shaking out her arms in effort to regain feeling.
Clenching her fists, Fernandez buried her frustrations deep as she turned back around, shoulders squared as she resolved that this would not derail her, Sinclair still within reach as…
…the Upstart Supreme fully re-emerged from beneath the apron, crying out a (not exactly) fearsome war cry as she swung for the fences with her own, snagged weapon in hand. The FAWNatics WHOOPED as the liberated kendo stick WHACKED Alejandra across her thighs, the Prototype snapping out an uncharacteristic yelp of her own as she hopped away, her skin already swelling from the bamboos SLAP!!
“You know,” Sammie began, blinking rapidly a few times before shaking her head, regaining her senses and pushing herself back up to vertical. “This isn’t usually my thing,” she admitted, adjusting her grip on her mock sword as she released a deep huff, the scrunching her button nose a clear and present sign of her Babyfaced dander. “But given the circumstances,” she advanced, cutting off the Prototypes desire to regroup by WHACKING her a second time, her swing connecting with the back Alejandra’s shoulders, forcing her to yelp once again. “I can kind of see the appeal.”
Fernandez retreated, hugging the outside of the apron in her instinctual efforts to get away, but Sammie, somewhat disgruntled by her own mistreatment, gave steady chase, giving as good as got by delivering one CRACK!! after another with her bamboo weapon. After the fifth strike, Alejandra dropped down to one knee, still trying to get away as she clutched the canvas.
Sammie, as it happened, had one more swing to give, WHACKING!! the kendo stick over the back of her adversaries’ noggin, the integrity of the weapon in her hands finally giving out as it splintered down the middle. The audience voiced their disappointment that the salvo was apparently over as the Mexican Mauler slumped forwards, Sinclair looking at the hilt of her broken weapon with a pout.
“I suppose I could say something about the thickness of your skull,” Sammie released a small huff, discarding the remains of the kendo stick before tucking her palms beneath both of her Challengers shoulders. “But that would be mean,” Sinclair inhaled a deep breath, the EurAsia Champion attempting to bodily lift the uncooperative remains of her opponent back into the ring. “So, I won’t.”
With more effort than she was happy with, Samantha managed to lift, wedge and roll Alejandra back into the squared circle, dusting her hands off before she began to follow, pulling herself up onto the apron with assistance from the ropes. “I know it’s terribly tempting given the circumstances,” she started to reason, ducking low to step between the top and middle ropes. “But perhaps we could take all of this as a learning experience, and keep the rest of the festivities inside the ring. Sound good?”
Alejandra, haven risen up onto her hands and knees, didn’t offer an answer, cradling the back of her head as vivid welts became painfully visible across her shoulders. Samantha felt a little bad, as she advanced, but being as Fernandez had developed a nasty habit of cracking Sinclair over the head with her own Title over the course of last few months, she figured a little turnaround was fair play.
Slipping a palm back under one of Alejandra’s shoulders, Sammie prepared to hoist her up…
…only for Fernandez to pivot her hips sharply and SLAM her forearm up into the unprotected sex of the People’s Princess!! Forcibly popped up onto her tip toes by the punishing low blow, one tensed bicep wedged up between her split open thighs, the perfectly petite brunette circled her lips in a silent, shocked groan, her knees suddenly all of a shimmy as she almost toppled sideways.
Alejandra caught her, immediately capitalising on her crippling play, gathering the lighter young woman up into her grasp as she stood tall and, with bullish efficiency, muscled the smaller girl up to perch over one shoulder. With Sinclair’s trim tummy neatly folded forwards over the broad joint, and her momentarily paralysed legs hanging down over the back, Sammie was stiffly secured, high above the canvas, like an adorable sack of potatoes. Further solidifying her adversaries rising predicament, Fernandez clamped her free palm across the back of her foes neck, neatly locking her place with little chance of escape.
Panic rose quickly in the ranks of the FAWNatics, even as the Prototype inhaled deeply and began running across the ring, dead set of completing her charge with her increasingly dreaded, Running Powerslam!!
GRINGA KILLER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JUkTTyFc5s&t=29s
Building momentum across almost the full length of the ring, Alejandra released an aggressive shout, SLINGING Sammie earthwards and following through with her own, muscled physique as she SLAMMED!! the Upstart Supreme into the scarcely yielding plywood! The canvas flexed with an audible bang as Sammie released a loud, mournful groan, her shoulders planted and her trim tummy impaled with enough force that had put her down for the count before. A sharp spasm ran through the length of her legs as they kicked out in recoil, before she slumped out on the deck with a quivering in her thighs, and soft moans escaping from her compressed torso.
Fernandez, atop the flattened Sinclair, hooked one of the girl’s legs and prepared to pin the EurAsia Champion for her coveted Title. She exhaled deeply in time with each count that was about to follow.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE?
Alejandra, still breathing heavily, realised something was amiss, shoving up from her perch when enough adrenaline had been purged from her system for her to realise that no-one was counting. Shoving her way up to kneeling, she shot an accusatory glare in the direction of Cleona, the Scottish Sociopath infuriatingly still sat on the turnbuckles. With gritted teeth, the Mexican Mauler was about to make her displeasure known, when Flynn cut her off with a disinterested wave of her arm, vaguely pointing out the still moaning Sammie’s second stem.
Lo and behold, that athletic, left leg of Sinclair was indeed, perhaps fortuitously, tucked under the bottom rope, rendering any attempt at a pinfall null and void. Cursing her own, lack of ring awareness in the heat of the moment, Fernandez dropped down to pin Sammie for a second time, only now ensuring that she had both of the other young woman’s submissive legs hooked, rolling her up into an even tighter ball.
As for Cleona, she couldn’t quite bring herself to vacate her perch, but she did begin clapping her hands together by way of declaring a count.
ONE!
TWO!!
Sammie SHOVED up a shoulder, much to the delight of the FAWNatics, and much to the agitation of Alejandra. As if to visualise her frustration, she GRABBED Sinclair by her curls before SLAMMING a forearm down into the side of her noggin, forcing the brunette to remain plaint as she remained puddled on the mat. Further securing her grip of the Brits mane, Fernandez used both of her hand to haul her for back up to standing, bullying the stumbling girl towards centre ring with forceful tugs.
Exchanging her grip for one of Sammie’s wrists, Alejandra squared her own posture before pivoting about, launching her opponent into and Irish Whip.
Forced to do so, Sinclair dashed across the canvas, years of experience ensuring that she turned about as she arrived at the ring ropes, the athletic young women rebounding off the taunt coils at even greater velocity. She was sprinting now, returning to sender, and the Muscle of Bad Reputation had her lined up for a STIFF Clothesline…
…which the People’s Princess ducked clean underneath, neatly evading the impact that could have damn well, near beheaded her. She kept on going, the Brit building up speed as she stepped on the accelerator, a cheer building amongst the FAWNatics as Sammie suddenly dived forwards into a delightfully dynamic handstand. As she landed on her hands, and her feet whipped up into the air, momentum demanded that her stems keep on going over, and Sinclair was happy to oblige, athletic legs connecting with the second set of ring ropes at considerable speed and rebounding with enough force for her to rapidly reverse course.
In no time at all, Sinclair had returned to her feet and, with a fierce(?) cry, WHIPPED her perfectly petite physique up and over into a blistering, beautiful, Enziguri Kick!!
HANDSPRING ENZIGURI
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIzZGwdLhtU
Alejandra had turned around just in time to get WHACKED across the side of her head for her troubles, her eyes losing focus as the CRACK of boot leather meeting cheek filled the arena. Fernandez didn’t fall over, as much as she apparently wanted, the punch-drunk Prototype instead stumbling backwards in a dazed stupor, coming to a rest only once she reached the ring ropes behind her, and her arms became entangled in the top rope. There she slumped, shaking her head, having enough trouble trying to remember her own name, never mind understand what had just happened.
Sammie, perhaps only in comparison, was looking visibly better than her Challenger, although she did stumble upon returning to her feet. With a shake of her head, followed by nod of self-affirmation, Sinclair braced herself for action and lined herself up with Alejandra. Before anyone could have even thought of advising her otherwise, she shot off at a sprint, the crowd watching enrapt as she suddenly THREW herself into the air, FLINGING herself forwards into a Spear!!
With Fernandez a sitting duck, the Upstart Supreme positively IMPALED her toned midriff with her shoulder, Alejandra folding like a twig and, with a great deal of momentum behind them, both young women were sent hurtling through the top and middle ropes and CRASHING to the outside of the ring.
Ultimately, the concrete was waiting for them both, and as the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance began chanting…
“WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!! WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!! WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!!”
…both Champion and Challenger were left in pained heaps.
Even Cleona, still sat on her perch watching, was beginning to display signs of interest, although not enough to actually get down from the turnbuckles.
“One day,” Sammie exhaled painfully, rolling over onto her side before grasping the rigid, chain link fencing that made up the Cell’s wall, “I’ll follow my own advice.” With more than a little effort, she began to pull herself upwards, managing to find her knees before…
…an equally pained Alejandra GRABBED her by the back of her head, and violently SLAMMED her noggin into the steel with excessive force!!
Sammie’s eyes went vacant the moment her forehead collided with the unyielding barricade, those baby browns staying open but showing little signs of life. She offered no effort to pull away as she slumped back onto her haunches, Fernandez retaining her grip of her hair as the Mexican Mauler pushed herself back up to standing. With a grunt, and without ceremony, Alejandra shoved her free hand under Sinclair’s compliant shoulder and bodily hauled the slighter young woman up onto her feet, turning her about before grasping her firm thighs and hupping her up off of her feet.
With Sammie now back within her grasp, Fernandez adjusted her grip to securely hug her arms about the EurAsia Champions slim midriff, Sinclair’s athletic stems instinctively popping up to wrap about Alejandra’s own hips in reply. With deliberate intent, Fernandez FLEXED her biceps sharply, grinding her opponent with a tight squeeze, the petite Brit releasing a low moan as her pert bosom hiked from the dreaded constriction. She curled the moment the intense pressure was relented, her back leaning into a relieved arch, her pert bosom soon pointing upwards towards the ceiling.
Twisting her cargo to the left, Alejandra suddenly pivoted sharply to the right, quite literally ‘swinging for the fences’ and WHACKING her foes back, shoulders and noggin viciously into the unforgiving, steel mesh of the chambers walls. If Sammie wasn’t hanging limp before, she most certainly was now, moaning and groaning as Fernandez was free to have her way in transitioning her submissive cargo into a different embrace. Soon enough, Sinclair was secured, high above the concrete, by way of a Cross Body Press, and Alejandra had already picked out her next target.
With her shoulder’s rigid, The Muscle of Bad Reputation set off at a sprint and, while the FAWNatics called out in denial, there was no stopping her from SLAMMING the small of Sammie’s already abused back into an impossibly hard Ringpost!!
As something audible seemed to pop in the young woman’s spine, a sharp, mournful yelp escaped from the body of the People’s Princess, the flash of blinding pain snapping the brunette out of some of her stupor as she hung in a pained heap in her adversary’s arms. She blinked several times, trying to process the damage, and even as she continued to wince, Fernandez was still bodily carrying her about the ring with impunity.
With a distinct lack of care, Alejandra dropped Sinclair back onto the apron, breathing deeply yet methodically as she shoved her competitor beneath the bottom rope at a roll. Sammie came to a stop a few feet later, flopping out across her back with her limbs flung out in a spread eagle, button nose scrunched up in pain as her pert bosom hiked irregularly. Valiantly, she tried to get up, but nothing seemed to be responding, Sinclair instead slumping into a steaming puddle.
Fernandez, satisfied with her labour, grabbed the middle rope and began to haul her own weary frame back into the ring. She pulled one knee up onto the apron before pausing, dark eyes never leaving Sammie before her whilst she considered her options. The FAWNatics didn’t like where this was going, but they had no choice in the matter, not as Alejandra reversed course and dropped back down to the concrete. Without further hesitation, she dropped down to her knees and lifted the canvas, her upper torso disappearing beneath the bottom of the ring.
It didn’t take her long to secure an old favourite, pulling back out into sight with a good old-fashioned steel chair in hand. Clutching her weapon tightly, she stood back up to vertical and witnessed that Sinclair, the Upstart Supreme, nothing if not stubborn to the core, had managed to roll over onto her front and was, painfully slowly, pushing her way back onto her hands and knees.
Alejandra ducked back into the ring, rolling beneath the bottom rope and finding her feet far more swiftly than Sammie could ever hope to, Sinclair’s own footing shaky and uncertain. Fernandez, in a brief bout of sadism, considered allowing the Brit to fully recover her bearings, only to spike her with a chair shot the moment the girls clarity resurfaced, but she quickly thought better of it.
Raising her weapon high, the Prototype tensed her powerful shoulders and inhaled deeply…
…only for Sinclair, in a flash of desperation, to kick out low! With a WHACK, the sole of her boot connected with Alejandra’s exposed knee, Fernandez releasing a shocked yelp as the joint gave out beneath her. Forcibly penitent, the Mexican Mauler somehow managed to retain a hold of her weapon, holding it out before her as shield.
That, as it turned out, proved to be an error, Sammie riding a wave of Babyfaced momentum as she stepped back before SURGING forwards, lightning quick as her coveted, athletic right leg snapped out with a beautiful Sammie Kick!! The sole her boot SLAMMED against the folded face of the steel chair, and the impact went onto CRACK!! the furniture square against Alejandra’s exposed features!!
The FAWNatics erupted as Fernandez toppled over onto her side, dark eyes open yet vacant as she slumped down onto the canvas in a stunned heap.
The EurAsia Champion, in far too much pain to exercise greater fanfare, just about toppled down to the mat beside her, albeit under some measurement of control, the young woman rolling her Challenger over with a small huff before moving to secure a pinfall.
Even Cleona Flynn had seen fit to drop down from her perch of the turnbuckles, thankfully not taking too long to kneel down on the mat and begin counting…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
Sammie, with a deep exhale of relief, rolled free from her challenger as Alejandra remained unresponsive, the People’s Princess elated despite her various injuries, closing her eyes for a moment as the bell rang to confirm her victory, and the sound system burst bursting into life to play her music…
FEEL INVINCIBLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gco_SAvHVSM
With a visible wince, the petite brunette forced her way up to sitting, grimacing again before nodding to herself in positive, self-affirmation as she started to stand up. Somewhat surprised to find the outstretched arm of another to help her get back up, Sammie didn’t question the offer as she braced herself against the stronger woman, a weary thankyou forming on her lips for the Scot…
…until Cleona Flynn lived down to the crowd’s expectations and, without warning or hesitation, she ensnared the weakened EurAsia Champion tightly and RIPPED her up off her feet, near effortlessly muscling the perfectly petite Brit up into a spine wrenching wrack across her powerful shoulders. She then FLUNG herself backwards, pausing only to crank her blindsided victim once to pop an already abused vertebra, gravity, momentum and a great deal of personal power all combining in concert to bodily PLANT!! Samantha into the canvas!!
CELTIC DROP: @0:15 Onwards
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xG3K3agXbG4
The moment Sinclair was DRIVEN into the deck, her music stopped playing over the sound system, and the FAWNatics called fowl as one, their collective elation transforming into despair. Sammie bucked sharply with a loud groan, her small body forcibly emptied all of its air, the young woman folding sharply for an instant before flopping out across the mat. The recoil was enough to roll her over onto her front, and there she remained with her right stem twitching with small spasms.
Without even remarking on her ambush, Cleona wasted no time in getting back up to her feet, making note of the fallen Brits position as she turned herself about. Without ceremony, the crowd could only watch on as Flynn jumped, sat out in mid-flight, and DROPPED almost all one hundred and fifty-two of her pounds down hard on the back of the Upstart Supremes head and shoulders!!
LEG DROP: @0:09
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kU3mD9XZwkc
In a limp spasm, Sammie’s own, athletic stems kicked up into the air before they flopped back down to the deck, utterly impotent as the miniature brunette showed no further signs of life. Finally, Cleona saw fit to observe her handiwork, perhaps looking more bored by the devastation she wrought than any other emotion.
Outside the Cell, Lady Lydia Lethbridge saw fit to have her presence be more directly felt, emerging from her place behind the commentary table and politely applauding the efforts of her hired help. At a stately pace, she collected the EurAsia Title from the Timekeeper as various Officials were scrambling to unlock the Cell door. Just as they were able to do so, she shooed them away with a withering glare, striding into the hellish structure as though it were part of her Kingdom.
Flynn got up then, making her way over to the ropes as her Ladyship made her way towards the ring, Cleona spreading the top and middle coils to let the wicked brunette in. With scarcely a further glance in the direction of her ‘hired help’, Lethbridge sauntered on over to the fallen Sinclair’s side, and domineeringly planted an immaculate boot down on the small of the fallen young woman’s back, grinding her heel in a small circle as she did so.
“Let this be a lesson,” she said for the benefit of the hard camera, Lethbridge gazing thoughtfully at the beautifully carved, silver wolfs head mounted at the head of her cane. “In the nature of hierarchy. All that you possess,” she paused, turning her gaze wistfully to the gleaming, stolen, EurAsia Title within her grasp, “is mine to collect. Enjoy your bauble for the time being, my dear little commoner,” Lydia dropped the coveted strap down across the unresponsive shoulders of Sinclair, “I’ll be expecting payment at Spring Break.”
Without further word, her Ladyship stood imperiously for the hard camera, her boot mounted on the back of Samantha, her dominance asserted over a Princess.
BAD THINGS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA