Post by samiamnot on Apr 26, 2020 23:05:07 GMT
The sound system of the arena sparks to life. “Laaaaaadies and gentlemen, our next contest is a standard bout premiering two of FAWN’s newest talents!” The prospect of fresh meat is enough to send the audience into an excited tizzy, like feeding chum to sharks. They hoot and scream for the new faces, each wondering who will be paraded before them. After a few beats, the unseen voice booms again. “First, hailing from Leland, Mississippi… standing at five feet, eleven inches and one hundred forty-eight pounds… for the first time in FAWN…. TAFFY BLACK!
“THREE SHADES OF BLACK” BY HANK WILLIAMS III
TAFFY BLACK:
Guitars begin to strum through the sound system as a tall, muscular brunette storms into the entrance ramp. Adorned in a black leather jacket, a black lyca bra, black booty shorts, and dingy old Chuck Taylors, the woman stops only to take in the throngs of fans. She meets their adoration with a sneer and a double middle finger salute before stomping down the aisle.
It is immediately apparent she has no interest in being a fan favorite.
As some of the audience turn on her while others embrace her hate, Taffy stomps to the squared circle and hops up to the skirt. She grabs the top rope and handily hops over it. The Amazon stomps to the center ring while sliding the jacket off to reveal perfectly sculpted muscles. It is then she finally gives the FAWNatics something - a fast flex to reveal how ripped she is. The “and go fuck yourself” smirk on her face is just a cherry on the sundae. Her music dies and the referee attempts to usher her into the corner to check her.
While the ref does his work, the speakers crackle and the announcer’s voice booms across the arena. “Annnnd her opponent, from Bayamón, Puerto Rico… at five foot four inches and one hundred and thirty-six pounds… in her FAWN debut… ALEJANDRA ALICEA!”
“SOY YO” BY BOMBA ESTERO
ALEJANDRA ALICEA:
As the bouncing beat of the song rings out, a shorter, fiery Latina steps out onto the entrance ramp. Almost as chiseled as the taller Taffy, Alejandra shakes over her long, straight black locks as she spreads her arms out toward the crowd. It has the dual effect of showing off her fit body and reaching out to the fans as if she was ready to take the time to clap each and every hand that she can.
Maybe it is an elemental response to Black’s sneers and attitude or maybe it’s just in appreciation of how the woman’s attire, a halter-type style top emblazoned with a Puerto Rican flag motif of red, white, and blue with high cut blue Lycra shorts, shows off her body, but a good portion of the crowd breaks into cheers at Alejandra’s openness. It’s at that moment, with a pearly white smile on her lips, that the Latina makes her brisque way to the ring, moving with an athletic grace as she does, indeed, clap hands with any FAWNatics who stick their hands out to meet her.
In the ring, Taffy instinctively puts a finger in her mouth as if to gag herself.
Once Alejandra gets to ringside, she gamely hops up to the apron by the nearest corner, hops up to the second turnbuckle and does a little flex of her own, showing off for the grown frenzy of the FAWNatics over the new blood before hopping over the top rope and into the ring.
As the referee dutifully glides to the Latina spitfire Taffy motions to a ring attendant for a microphone. The young woman outside the ring in a FAWN staff shirt snags a microphone and hands it up to the taller woman.
Taffy turns and takes in Alejandra, licking her lips before speaking. “What… and I mean this with all the kindness I can muster… the fuck are you supposed to be?”
The booing is instant. Alejandra’s gaze snaps up beyond the referee at her taller opponent.
“You’re so… so… like, little, but kind of muscley? You look like someone took a Sanrio character and got it to work out.” Taffy laughs at the mere idea. “Like, are you Hello Kitty’s long lost cousin, Hello Loser?” The boos grow louder and Taffy turns her ire to the masses. “Look, I ain’t your mom so I don’t gotta pretend to love any of you so shut up!” She grins back at the Puerto Rican woman. “So tell me, Hefty Smurf, how many apples you benchpressing these days? Seven? Eight? I bet you give Gargamel a run for his money.
Perhaps a bit surprisingly, Alejandra takes the first few insults in stride, a slightly amused smile on her face as she nods slowly. As Taffy takes a breath in between her barrage of words, the Latina puts her hands on her hips and speaks up. “You’ve got a good sense of humor, nena.” She cracks her neck audibly and rolls her muscular shoulders. “But I’ve never seen anyone win a fight with their mouth. Are you going to--”
Taffy holds up a hand and just talks right over her opponent. “No, no, kidding aside. I’m sure where you come from, you’re like the strongest Monchichi or pokemon or whatever. But now,” Taffy practically laughs while gesturing around the ring. “You’re here with me. So let’s just show everyone who’s really strongest.” A solitary hand raises in the universal move for a test of strength. “C’mon, half-pint. Everyone whatcha got.” Taffy tosses the mic and waits for a reaction.
The answer is swift and silent as Alejandra immediately snaps her hand into Taffy’s, the humor gone from her face and replaced entirely by fire. This is not going to be some slow, methodical test of strength, both women clearly eager to show their dominance, and a split-second later, their other hands slam together. The FAWNatics hush for a moment. While Alejandra has put herself squarely in their corner, Taffy’s domineering size makes her victory in this contest likely.
And at first, that is how it goes down. As both women’s powerful physiques strain, muscles flaring into relief as they push against each other, Black’s sheer height and leverage advantage turns the fit Puerto Rican’s initial push into an inevitable backslide. Arms quavering with effort, Alejandra tries to make every inch her hands spread to her sides cost all the effort possible, but it looks to be a losing fight. A sick smirk splits Taffy’s lips as the Amazonian wrestler pushes onward, even as sweat beads on each woman’s brow.
But just before Taffy manages to snap Alejandra’s arms all the way down and take full control of the hold, a growl rumbles in the Latina’s throat, and she digs down deep. The descent stops, and as that growl erupts into a roar, Alejandra pushes back. Taffy’s eyes widen in disbelief as what she saw as a pint-sized pushover starts to muscle her way back into control. Inch by painful inch, Alejandra rises, but this cannot last. It is clearly taking a tremendous effort to win this moment, but instead of simply using more of her strength to regain control, Taffy opts for the cheap option, suddenly thrusting a big knee out the moment the Latina has pushed back to a vertical base. The shot blasts Alejandra right in her chiseled abs, breaking her grip as it knocks the wind out of her.
Alejandra backs up, bent over and clutching her midsection. She immediately feels jagged nails dive into her ebony tresses and rake the back of her scalp. “Aww, po’ bay-beh,” Taffy coos. “You fell down. Lemme help you UP!” On “up” Taffy pivots slinging the smaller fighter into the cables by her own long hair. Alejandra bounds off the ropes awkwardly, only to return and meet a Chuck Taylor to the mouth.
Alejandra falls to her back but she is far from out. Immediately she sees the silhouette of Black above her and rolls to the side before that same shoe slams into the part of the mat her face once was.
Alicea pushes herself up, managing to get to a crouch before Black again snags her by the mane. “I ain’t done with you yet, meat,” Taffy hisses as she winds her claw into Alejandra’s hair as best she can. Over the protests of the referee about hair pulling, Taffy pulls her free hand back in a cocked fist. “How about a little off the top?”
With her hair in a twisted claw, Alejandra has no place to go, so she does the one thing she knows how to do: endure. Muscles tense and ready as the punch cracks across the Latina’s chin, hard enough to dull her vision and hard enough that Taffy lets go, just to see her little plaything spin from the blow. Alejandra twists and falls, arms draped over the top ropes in a daze.
The FAWNatics break out into a chorus of boos, anticipating that Taffy is going to savage the smaller girl, and it looks like they might be right as Black steps forward, murder in her eyes and hands ready to choke Alejandra over the top rope. But just as she is about to get that hold, Alicea seems to come back to life. She suddenly pushes off the top rope in a surge, throwing a back elbow in the process. Taffy, caught off-guard, takes the elbow right between her breasts and staggers back from the impact.
“You’re right, nena,” Alejandra spits out as she throws her back into the strands she had just left. “We aren’t done yet!” Bouncing right back off the ropes, the Latina spitfire throws herself into a jumping shoulder black, hoping to combine strength and athleticism to take the big woman off her feet.
The impact is stunning and Taffy is handily knocked off her feet. Going ass over teakettle, Taffy slams back-first into the canvas with Alejandra on top of her. Alejandra plants her palms onto Taffy’s chest and pushes herself up, whipping her long hair back from her eyes, before smirking down at her obviously shocked opponent. The smaller newcomer hauls back and slams an open-handed chop just above Taffy’s breasts and the hollow crack fills the auditorium. Taffy’s face flushes with pain and rage, but she seems almost incapable of acting.
So much the better for Alejandra, who slides off her mount and grabs Taffy’s right arm. Sliding the appendage between her own thighs, Alejandra drapes her legs over Taffy’s chest and sinches in an armbar. The howls of anguish one would expect from such a muscular woman trying to rip off one’s arm aren’t present, but the immediate flush to Taffy’s face betrays the agony.
“Look!” Alejandra giggles. “I’m having a Taffy pull!”
Black peers back at her attacker, hate simmering. “Never… heard that… before,” she grunts with sarcasm as she begins rocking to her side, trying to pull herself closer to the ropes. While Alejandra leans back and redoubles her efforts with a grunt of effort, the pain isn’t enough to keep the long-limbed Taffy from getting a foot on the ropes.
The referee is right there, attentive for once in a blue moon, and begins to count as he calls for the break. The bronzed Puerto Rican beauty is quick to follow the rules, letting the hold go and rolling to her feet. Taffy, on the other hand, looks to be slow to rise and favors her right arm badly.
Alejandra grins, bouncing on her toes as she feels the momentum building inside of her, and the moment Taffy clambers to her feet, she moves in to capitalize. As she snatches the Amazon’s wounded arm, Alicea discovers to her chagrin that Black wasn’t nearly as hurt as she let on, suddenly yanking back with all her weight and might.
Perhaps if Alejandra had been ready, she could have braced against the pull or ducked the short-arm clothesline that followed, but she fell for Taffy’s ploy, hook, line, and sinker. It’s all she can do to twist at the last moment, but all that accomplishes is keeping her head still attached to her body as Black’s blow blasts her off her feet, almost sending her flipping a full turn with its raw power and momentum.
Even as Alicea hits the mat in a heap, though, there is a spot of hope, as it is clear that Black’s hurt arm wasn’t all trickery. Taffy’s face is still a grimace as she turns to the downed and groaning Latina, rubbing her right elbow and shoulder to try to get it back to a hundred percent again.
“That actually hurt,” she growls as malicious intent is clear in her eyes. “Guess even a flea can bite.”
Taffy yanks Alejandra by the scruff of the neck and slings her into a corner. The padding on the turnbuckles offers a minimum of protection for the impact. The taller woman advances, shaking out her arm, just as the young Latina raises her head to address Taffy.
Whatever words Alejandra had planned to deliver are lost in a ferocious backhand across the mouth that snaps her head to the side. The bitch slap knocks both sense from her head and taste from her mouth. Frankly, it’s a hit she simply never expected to just hurt so damn much.
Taffy cups Alejandra’s chin and pushes her head back up. “Oh, and since you’ve seemed to enjoy touching mine a couple of times.” Another deafening crack, this time across Alejandra’s breasts. The Puerto Rican holds back her urge to sound out the pain, but the open-hand chop from Taffy’s left hand steals a precious cry out. Taffy cackles. “Yeah, when it comes to slappin’ little hoes around, I’m ambidextrous.” Alejandra begins to sag slightly when a large shoe slams into her throat, choking her into the corner.
The referee finally acts. “C’mon, Taffy. You know the rules. Let her go.”
Taffy looks back to the ref and smiles sweetly as she sings a familiar song. “Let her go… let her go...can’t hold her back anymore... let her go--”
The referee throws up a finger, followed by a second, and a third. By the fourth finger, the Amazon knows a DQ is coming so she releases the foot and reaches for her foe’s head. As the pressure is released, Alejandra slumps in the corner, her chest heaving as she manages a gasp of clean air.
For Taffy’s part, though, she seems nonplussed as she struts out of the corner. A good portion of the FAWNatics on hand have clearly chosen what side of the fence the woman-in-black is on, and their chorus of boos is nothing but sweet wine to Black as she drinks it in.
“What a bunch of ungrateful shits,” she bellows out into the crowd. “I thought you people liked winners?!” Black thumbs her nose as she turns back on the downed Latina still trying to recover from her beating so far in this match, her raven tresses a messy curtain over her face. “Fine then. I’ll get my satisfaction with you, Little Miss High-And-Mighty.” Taffy snorts as she reaches down to grab a hold of those luscious locks. “Emphasis on the little.”
Alicea begins to stir with a mixture of anger and pain the moment Black starts to yank up on her hair once again. Forced to comply with the big woman’s tugging or risk losing her scalp, Alejandra is dragged up to her feet, but through the pain running through her, the muscular Latina suddenly fires off a shot into Black’s chiseled gut. Despite Taffy’s obvious resilience, she flinches from the hard shot even though she doesn’t loosen her grip… not that Alejandra lets that stop her. Without a pause, she rears back and launches another powerful right, a blow hard enough to stagger the towering woman back a step.
But just as Alejandra cocks back for a third blow, one sure to break Black’s grip on her, the vicious grappler snarls, her wounded arm lashing out to twin into the Puerto Rican’s hair before suddenly pulling with all her might. Alejandra lets out a scream of agony as she is yanked off her feet hair first before Taffy twists and releases, sending the smaller fighter hurtling across the ring for a painful crash chest-first on the mat.
“Oooh, someone thought they were gonna show me what for!” Taffy chuckles, her Mississippi twang making itself evident. She lifts Alejandra’s right leg and soars a kick into her thigh. It’s a small mercy that Taffy doesn’t wear wrestling boots, which have a stiffer toe than her ancient Chuck Taylor sneakers, but it still hurts like a cramp from hell. A second kick flies in but, either by design or because of Alejandra’s movement, it misses her thigh and instead slams into her undercarriage for a perfect field goal of pain.
The referee steps in, wagging a finger. “No low blows!”
“Tell her not to move her pussy into my kick!” Taffy protests. Taffy hoists the captured leg and slams the knee into the mat. This time Alejandra only offers a grunt of recognition, refusing the bully any satisfaction. Taffy watches her enemy slowly try to push her way up, partly for the satisfaction of how much she’d done to her so far, partly because Alejandra has a surprisingly nice ass. Still, work to be done. As the Latina pushes herself up to all fours, she feels the canvas shake. Alejandra looks up in time to see Taffy bounding off the ropes and rushing towards her, aiming to plant her face back with a monstrous curb stomp.
CURB STOMP:
The Latina tries to roll, but with the punishment that she’s already absorbed, her body just can’t deliver. The sickening crack of a shoe sole on flesh booms through the arena, only matched by the crash of Alejandra’s head on the canvas. Taffy looks like the cat that stole the cream, if the cat also stabbed five other cats to get it, as Alejandra recoils off the matt, arms instinctively clutching her tortured skull before sprawling flat on her back, seemingly dead to the world save for the rise and fall of her gorgeous breasts. There’s a moment of silence out in the crowd until one FAWNatic breaks the silence with, “Is she dead?!”
Taffy snickers as she dusts off her hands. “No, but she’s toast.” Then she idly drops to the mat over Alejandra, leaning on the Latina’s chest back first with an admittedly lazy pin. Not that Black needed to hook the leg. Little Miss Muscles was out like a light. The ref dutifully drops to count the pinfall, even as some of the crowd breaks into a sudden round of cheers, a vain attempt to rally the beaten Alejandra back into the fight.
ONE…
TWO…
TH--
Taffy blinks as the fit beauty under her somehow stirs to life, managing a surprisingly strong kickout that bucks the Amazon almost up to a sitting position. Frustration fills her eyes and a growl roils in the back of her throat as she stomps to her feet, ignoring Alejandra for the moment to focus her ire on the referee.
“What kind of slow-ass count was that?!” Black roars as she slaps her hands together to mime a count. “One, two, three! Just like that, alright?” She seems completely unconcerned with her opponent and also ignores the rising cheers of the crowd.
A mistake, as it rises louder with every inch the Puerto Rican makes to rise. Her teeth are gritted, her chest heaves, and sweat drips off her rapidly bruising chin, but she gets to her hands and knees, then up to one knee before Taffy finally catches on. With a grimace of frustration, Black turns… right into a pair of red-and-white boots as a perfect dropkick graces her jaw. Unprepared and off-guard, the impact blasts her clean off her feet even as Alejandra lands a little roughly herself, still not anywhere fully recovered from her previous beating.
Still, the moment the Latina lands on her belly, she pushes back up as fast as she can. “You can’t beat a Borica so easy,” she growls between breaths as she charges toward her surprised opponent, still flat on her back. The split-second before coming up on her, Alejandra springs up, aiming for a pinpoint elbow drop right for the big woman’s gut.
The elbow slams into Taffy’s perfect abs, driving deep. Taffy’s mouth forms a perfect O as all the air rushes from her and she rolls to her side. This, of course, isn’t close to good enough for Alejandra - not after all the indignity that she’s been forced to suffer in such a short time.
“Where’s all that talk, Miss Thing?” Alejandra demands as she rises. Her accent seems to thicken with her rage. “Come on, where’s all that talk?” She punctuates “talk” with another elbow drop, this time into Taffy’s ribs. Taffy’s mouth stretches to bellow but nothing comes out, still winded from the first elbow.
Alejandra stands up, raising her arms to the cheering fans. She turns to see Taffy stumbling, trying to push herself up while cradling her midsection. The Spitfire leans down and cups Taffy’s chin, forcing her to look up at her. “Oh, by the way, you seemed to have misplaced something. I believe this is yours.”
What follows is a crack so loud that most people are stunned to learn a support beam in the auditorium snapping hadn’t been the culprit. Instead, it’s Alejandra’s hand driving right across Taffy’s face, sending a stream of spit from her flapping lips. Surprisingly, Taffy doesn’t topple, but her wits are scrambled. Alejandra merely pulls her hair from her face and smiles.
“Yeah, I can go down that road too so don’t start what you can’t finish.” Alejandra grabs Taffy’s better rams and slings her backward into the ropes. As the Southern Amazon rebounds she attempts to clip Alicea’s head off with a clothesline but the smaller woman is too quick and deftly ducks. Instead, Alejandra shoves Taffy harder to the cables ahead and, on the rebound, catches her and lifts her up, holding her aloft for a moment for all - especially Taffy - to take in her athleticism before bringing her down in a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.
TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER:
Taffy slides from Alejandra’s knee and to the canvas. Learning from her opponent’s mistake, Alejandra hooks Taffy’s leg for a pin.
ONE…
T--
Taffy bucks, dislodging Alejandra. Alejandra had known it was a longshot but worth trying. She rises, scoffing, “I was offering you an easy way out. But if you’d rather tap, Taffy, let’s get a tap.” She moves behind Taffy and drops to a seat, wrapping her legs around Black’s neck in preparation for a figure four necklock. Taffy seems shocked at first and is a hair too slow to react and get a hand up to block the hold, and then the next second, Alejandra’s thick, chiseled thighs and calves bulge as she locks in the hold.
Black’s expression turns from shock and surprise to torturous pain as the Latina’s powerful legs torque the Southern woman’s neck and squeeze on important blood vessels. As her face reddens, she struggles to deny Alejandra any satisfaction of a cry or a yell, but that gets a thousand times worse when Alicea plants both her hands on the canvas and pushes up, elevating her torso and doubling down on the leverage on Taffy’s neck. To add insult to injury, Alejandra even smiles to the crowd, putting on a brave face through her own pain and fatigue, then keeps herself suspended with only one arm to show off an exquisitely chiseled bicep.
The FAWNatics that rallied behind the Puerto Rican Spitfire let out a round of appreciative cheers at her showmanship, and Taffy herself is strangely pleased because while that bit of showboating impresses the fans, it relieves just an iota of pressure. Just enough to let the big brawler slip a hand into Alejandra’s muscular legs, shift her head, and do the only thing she can think to do to get free: chomp down on the calf by her chin.
The expression change of Alejandra’s face will undoubtedly be an animated GIF used as a reaction across social media for years to come. The look of total pride and excitement quickly morphing into howling pain as strong teeth clamp into her muscle will be comedy gold to everyone but her. Before she can mount any type of defense, however, Taffy has slipped from her prison and scurried to the ropes, as far from Alejandra as she can get.
The referee kneels to check on Alejandra. “That psycho bit me!” she blurts. The referee looks to Taffy, who’s rubbing her neck.
“Bullshit, she got a cramp,” Taffy replies.
“There are teeth marks on my calf!” Alejandra says as she struggles to rise.
“It was a hell of a cramp,” Taffy adds with a smirk. The taller woman lunges at Alejandra, taking a wild swing. It would have taken the head off of a less prepared fighter but Alicea easily dips and drives an axe handle into Taffy’s belly. Taffy halts and steps back only to be met with an elbow driven across her face. Before Black can try to evade any more, Alejandra reaches forward and pulls Taffy into a belly-to-belly bearhug, lifting her off her feet.
The crowd cheers as Alejandra wrenches her grip tighter and tighter, feeling the ribs in her hug groan while Taffy’s arms flop around uselessly at her side. The only problem is the height difference puts Taffy’s large breasts right in her eyes. Above her, Alejandra hears laughter.
“You think your ribs snapping is funny?” Alejandra growls.
“No,” Taffy chortles, “but this is gonna be a laugh riot.” Immediately Taffy yanks up her bra to expose her breasts.
Alejandra stares in utter shock. She knows of what happens in FAWN but this is something she wasn’t prepared for. She finds herself gobsmacked, horrified, and impressed at the form and, frankly, large nipple size on Taffy.
That is, until Taffy slams her tits into Alejandra’s face and pulls the bra down over the back of Alejandra’s head. Taffy’s good arm wraps around the Puerto Rican’s head, locking her face into a breast smother, while her injured arm - still impressively capable - begins taking shots into the back of Alicea’s ribs.
While she had experienced much in her years wrestling in Puerto Rico, this simply is a situation that Alejandra hadn’t trained for. Her first instinct was to double-down, try to just squeeze tighter and win the struggle that way, but the problems with that were many. She couldn’t breathe, smothered by rather tantalizing breasts, each shot to her ribs added to her agony, and though loathe to admit it, she was maybe just a hint turned on. Her muscular arms start to go limp as she began to fade, her knees start to turn to jelly, and as the world goes grey, Taffy shows some form of mercy as she yanks Alejandra away from her impressive rack and out of her bra.
But that is no mercy at all. It is only a set-up for more pain. Taffy, sucking in her first full breath in minutes now that Alejandra wasn’t crushing her ribcage or her throat, takes a surprisingly spritely shuffle step back from the groggy, stumbling Latina then comes back in with a terrifyingly fast savate kick!
SAVATE KICK:
Black’s big Chuck Taylor slams into Alicea’s chin like a runaway freight train, and the blow levels the weakened wrestler like a felled tree. Though Alejandra hits the canvas hard, Taffy is clearly feeling the match catching up with her as well as she sinks to one knee. Wrapping her good arm around her aching ribcage, the Louisiana Amazon takes this brief respite to get back some steam.
This time, Alejandra does not immediately start pushing back to her feet. Only one leg languidly kicks, as if trying to desperately kick start her pummeled body. A cruel smirk crawls across Taffy’s face as she pushes to her feet.
“Didn’t you make a crack about pulling Taffy earlier, short stuff?” she snarks as she stomps over to the downed Spitfire. “Oh, right, you can’t answer me ‘cause I kicked your brain out through your skull.” Black roughly snatches Alicea’s left arm and pulls up, the half-unconscious powerhouse limply rolling onto her side with the motion. “Now, I’m going to show you a real Taffy’s Pull, and we’ll see who’s tapping out, bitch.”
It was the liquid agony that came when Taffy pulls up on Alejandra’s muscular arm with all her prodigious might while slamming a big foot right down on the Latina’s rib cage that wakes her right up. Though Alejandra is a proud woman, she feels no shame when she lets out a torturous scream as Taffy applies terrible pressure on her arm, shoulder, and ribs, but that scream turns into a drawn-out, “NO!” when the ref drops to check on her.
Taffy keeps the pull going a bit longer than necessary. She knows Alejandra won’t submit to this but she feels she owes her for what the imp did to her own arm. Finally, she releases the arm, only to step with all her weight onto Alejandra’s ribs and move behind her. To drive the point home she sends a swift and cruel kick to the base of the mighty mite’s skull. FAWNatics cringe in horror. A lone, angry, “BOO!” sounds from the front row.
Taffy runs to the ropes. “Really? You think a fucking ‘boo’ is gonna hurt my feelings?” she laughs at a pudgy balding man in the front. She points at him. “For your lack of creativity, I’ve got to punish her more.” Taffy goes to Alejandra, who is still except for anguished panting on the canvas, and pulls her up and places her over her shoulders, her back to the back of Taffy’s head. She struts back to the ropes and smiles at the fan. “This is for you, fucker.” And immediately she begins pulling Alenjandra’s head and feet back in an accordion rack, desperately trying to get the two to touch.
ACCORDION RACK:
Anguished moans play from Alejandra’s lungs and, frankly, Taffy loves every note. When it’s obvious her captive is going to offer no struggles against her, Taffy walks to the center of the ring. She adjusts the hold slightly before dropping Alejandra face-first to the mat in a devastating F5.
F5:
When the ring stops shaking from the impact, Alejandra is splayed out like a slightly warm corpse, and Taffy is left standing, seething, and strangely unsatisfied. Instead of going for the pin, the smart move to win, Black stomps over to the semi-conscious Puerto Rican and kicks her over roughly from her back to flat on her chest. Faint signs of life look to stir in Alicea, the fingers of her right hand start to flex, almost as if she is trying to grip the mat to crawl to the ropes, and the sight of that only looks to frustrate Taffy.
“Just give the fuck up already!” she roars as she suddenly knelt down to snatch Alejandra by the chin. Cupping it, Taffy then drops the rest of the way down while yanking back with both arms. A moment’s shifting and Alejandra lets out a fresh growl of pain, what likely was a scream muffled by having her jaw clamped shut by the pressure of the hold. Once it was cinched in, Taffy took the time to make this proper, freeing one hand for a moment to pull the Latina’s sculpted arms back over her knees.
CAMEL CLUTCH:
Taffy pulls and yanks, closing her eyes as she tries to wring the words she so wants out of the proud wrestler’s lips, but nothing comes out but pained grunts. The ref drops down to check on Alejandra, certain she is just passed out as her arms seem to be limp over the Amazon’s knees, but that only raises Black’s ire.
“Fuck you, stripes!” she barks out as she lets off the pressure just a bit. “I don’t want you to fuck with her. I want this bitch to give up!”
And it is that demand that seems to spark some last ember in Alejandra’s heart. As Taffy shoes the referee off with one hand, the fiery Puerto Rican’s arms flex and her eyes half-open. The growl of agony seems to twist into one of effort as she starts to desperately push with her knees. Black doesn’t notice, not immediately, not until she feels herself shift upward, and by then, Alejandra has a knee under them both. Taffy swiftly moves to counter, to clamp back on the clutch and shift her balance, but she is too late, as Alejandra manages to pull her other knee under her as she clamps both arms around Black’s thighs.
With a thunderous cry of pure effort and strain, Alicea thrusts up with both powerful legs and just as suddenly, as soon as she is half standing with Taffy trying to desperately keep a hold over her back, Alejandra drops back abruptly. Black’s back hits the canvas hard, then all of the Latina’s weight and muscle squashes her between them, compounded by her sheer shock at being put in this situation.
Alejandra rolls off Taffy, too addled and drained to roll back into a pin, and for a long moment, both women lie spent on the mat. Still, before the referee can begin a double count-out, both women stir. Taffy rolls on to her hands and knees, and Alejandra manages to crawl to the ropes. As she pulls herself up strand by strand, Taffy slams the mat with her palms in pain and frustration.
Alejandra shoots the tantrum-throwing Amazon a grim, painful smile. “Don’t know how to say quit where I come from,” she gets out between panting breaths. “You do, you might as well be dead.”
Black has no pithy comeback this time. Instead, she surges to her feet and charges, looking fit to just tear the Latina’s head off in her rage with a lariat, but that’s when Alejandra pushes herself off the cables. She uses her shorter stature to her advantage, slipping under the blow that would have torn her apart, and catches Taffy around the mid-section with one of her own strong arms. Her other arm loops under Taffy’s leg, and with a primal roar, the pint-sized powerhouse pulls Black up into what first looks to be a back suplex. But in mid-throw, she turns the Amazon sideways in midair and falls back with both knees up, guiding Black down into a Lumbar Check!
LUMBAR CHECK:
Taffy falls off Alejandra’s knees, her back a web of agony as she flops to the canvas from the Latina’s finishing move. A roar of cheers explodes across the arena at the Spitfire’s show of strength and heart… but those cheers start to taper when they realize that Alicea is in no better shape than her opponent. As if that last huge move took every last bit of effort out of her, Alejandra takes a full four seconds sprawled out on the mat and trying to recuperate before she can even think to roll over and crawl towards the wiped-out Southern girl to go for a pin.
By the time she pulls herself over Taffy, it is clear that Black is recuperating. Still, despite that, she doesn’t throw Alejandra off right away and the ref drops for a pin.
ONE!...
TWO!...
And that’s when Taffy roughly shoves her spent opponent off her to break the pin, much to the chagrin of the FAWNatics.
Alejandra looks down, exhausted, at the larger wrestler. She offers a weak smile. “Gotta hand it to you. You got some toughness to back that mouth up.”
Taffy pushes herself up to her elbows, also wearing, and smiles back. “Yeah, well, you ain’t--” the smile vanishes and a stream of spit shoots from Taffy’s lips into Alejandra’s eye. The moment shocks Alejandra, but not as much as the speed in which Taffy is up and pounces on her like a feral cat. Thumbs sink into her eyes as Alejandra’s falls back onto her back. They stay there, keeping her blind as two knees drive just beneath her diaphragm and force all the breath from her body.
She feels Taffy’s form clumsily slink behind her body. The thumbs leave her eyes but all Alejandra can see are stars and blurs through water. But she feels the arm slip under her neck and another brace behind her head. She knows it’s a sleeper. She opens her mouth but merely gapes like a carp on dry land, swallowing at air.
The referee checks Alejandra for submission. In her ear, she hears Taffy’s weary voice. “You submit or you go to sleep. And this is FAWN. You signed the same consent forms I did. You know what I can and WILL do to you if I have you at my mercy. Submit or be my toy.
Alejandra knows this isn’t a hollow threat. She does know the forms she signed. She’s seen past pay-per-views, where some of the matches are practically sex with punching. She knows the risk is real.
But she also knows her pride.
Vainly attempting to speak, she forces out a hoarse but defiant, “I… will never… submit to you!” as loud as she can, so that the mics pick it up and all the fans watching at home know well what she’s declared.
Taffy’s face grows redder and redder. This is not what she wants. And, sure, she plans on doing horrible things to Alejandra one way or another, but the first win being a submission would make it so much sweeter. But she knows that’s not how it will play out.
To the shock of all, Taffy releases the sleeper and stands. Alejandra slumps to her side, hungrily pulling in oxygen. “Fine,” Taggy growls. She reaches down and pulls Alejandra up, sliding her across her shoulders. She strides to the center of the ring where she ends the match with a Burning Hammer.
BURNING HAMMER:
Alejandra’s head slams into the canvas and the spitfire is extinguished. Taffy offers an insulting pin, a foot planted between Alejandra’s ample chest. As the FAWNatics boo, the referee counts.
ONE….
TWO…
THREE!
The bell rings and the announcer sparks up as the referee raises Taffy’s hand. “Your winner by pinfall… TAFFY BLACK!”
Taffy yanks her arm from the official like a pouting child and glares back at Alejandra’s still body.
This isn’t what she wanted. But she’ll take it. She leans down and slides her fingers into the prone woman’s top, considering a stripping. Something to play with. But a voice nags her.
It’s not fun if she’s out.
The fury boils over and Taffy loses herself. She rises and begins to angrily boot Alejandra in the face and body. The official screams for her to stop but she can’t control it. The more she realizes the Latina won’t be begging at her feet, naked and humiliated, the more she hates her. She loses track of the kicks. If she can’t have the fluids of pleasure, she’ll have blood.
Then the missile dropkick from behind. Taffy stumbles forward but catches herself. She spins around.
TRIXIE DECKER:
A petite goth woman stands up and glares at her. “You won. Now fuck off.”
Taffy smiles. “Guess I’m getting some pleas--”
Another dropkick from behind. She whips around and glares.
KELLI LOVE:
A bubbly blonde in pink lingerie and boots stares at her with icy blue eyes. “You won. You don’t have to be a cunt about it.”
The FAWNatics cheer at the return of faces they hadn’t seen in too long. But Taffy isn’t impressed. “A Hot Topic Employee and a blow-up doll are s’posed to stop me?”
ALOISIA BERGE:
SELIA BRACH:
KANAKO AKIYAMA:
A voice to Taffy’s side speaks out in a thick German accent. “Look, if you don’t like fair fights, we’ll give you an unfair fight.” Taffy turns and sees a statuesque Polynesian woman in a red two-piece and boots next to a tiny blonde in a black weightlifting singlet. Next to the powerlifter is another, more petite Asian in a halter top, leather jacket, and toght jeans.
Taffy starts to make a crack about the smaller fighters but then notices the little blonde’s muscles. Then she notices the shorter Asian woman whip out and stretch out a collapsible police baton.
“Be smart… for once in your life,” Kanako growls.
This… this might be bad.
Taffy raises a defiant finger. “Okay, first off!” she shouts angrily - then bolts, sliding under the bottom rope and running up the aisle.
Kelli smiles. “It’s good to be back.”
Trixie kneels next to Alejandra. “Too bad this place is the same as it’s always been.”
“AHEM!” Kelli says, clearing her throat. “Remember, I was the trained lifeguard.” She stoops and checks on Alejandra. “Hey, you in there?”
Groggily, the Latina’s eyes flutter open, and a look of pain, confusion, and relief flashes over her face. “Madre de Dios…” She obviously still a bit dazed as she rubs her aching skull. She takes in the faces of the gorgeous women above her and hears what sounds like thousands of voices chanting her name and applauding her. “Did I win…? Or am I in Heaven because I’m surrounded by angels?”
“THREE SHADES OF BLACK” BY HANK WILLIAMS III
TAFFY BLACK:
Guitars begin to strum through the sound system as a tall, muscular brunette storms into the entrance ramp. Adorned in a black leather jacket, a black lyca bra, black booty shorts, and dingy old Chuck Taylors, the woman stops only to take in the throngs of fans. She meets their adoration with a sneer and a double middle finger salute before stomping down the aisle.
It is immediately apparent she has no interest in being a fan favorite.
As some of the audience turn on her while others embrace her hate, Taffy stomps to the squared circle and hops up to the skirt. She grabs the top rope and handily hops over it. The Amazon stomps to the center ring while sliding the jacket off to reveal perfectly sculpted muscles. It is then she finally gives the FAWNatics something - a fast flex to reveal how ripped she is. The “and go fuck yourself” smirk on her face is just a cherry on the sundae. Her music dies and the referee attempts to usher her into the corner to check her.
While the ref does his work, the speakers crackle and the announcer’s voice booms across the arena. “Annnnd her opponent, from Bayamón, Puerto Rico… at five foot four inches and one hundred and thirty-six pounds… in her FAWN debut… ALEJANDRA ALICEA!”
“SOY YO” BY BOMBA ESTERO
ALEJANDRA ALICEA:
As the bouncing beat of the song rings out, a shorter, fiery Latina steps out onto the entrance ramp. Almost as chiseled as the taller Taffy, Alejandra shakes over her long, straight black locks as she spreads her arms out toward the crowd. It has the dual effect of showing off her fit body and reaching out to the fans as if she was ready to take the time to clap each and every hand that she can.
Maybe it is an elemental response to Black’s sneers and attitude or maybe it’s just in appreciation of how the woman’s attire, a halter-type style top emblazoned with a Puerto Rican flag motif of red, white, and blue with high cut blue Lycra shorts, shows off her body, but a good portion of the crowd breaks into cheers at Alejandra’s openness. It’s at that moment, with a pearly white smile on her lips, that the Latina makes her brisque way to the ring, moving with an athletic grace as she does, indeed, clap hands with any FAWNatics who stick their hands out to meet her.
In the ring, Taffy instinctively puts a finger in her mouth as if to gag herself.
Once Alejandra gets to ringside, she gamely hops up to the apron by the nearest corner, hops up to the second turnbuckle and does a little flex of her own, showing off for the grown frenzy of the FAWNatics over the new blood before hopping over the top rope and into the ring.
As the referee dutifully glides to the Latina spitfire Taffy motions to a ring attendant for a microphone. The young woman outside the ring in a FAWN staff shirt snags a microphone and hands it up to the taller woman.
Taffy turns and takes in Alejandra, licking her lips before speaking. “What… and I mean this with all the kindness I can muster… the fuck are you supposed to be?”
The booing is instant. Alejandra’s gaze snaps up beyond the referee at her taller opponent.
“You’re so… so… like, little, but kind of muscley? You look like someone took a Sanrio character and got it to work out.” Taffy laughs at the mere idea. “Like, are you Hello Kitty’s long lost cousin, Hello Loser?” The boos grow louder and Taffy turns her ire to the masses. “Look, I ain’t your mom so I don’t gotta pretend to love any of you so shut up!” She grins back at the Puerto Rican woman. “So tell me, Hefty Smurf, how many apples you benchpressing these days? Seven? Eight? I bet you give Gargamel a run for his money.
Perhaps a bit surprisingly, Alejandra takes the first few insults in stride, a slightly amused smile on her face as she nods slowly. As Taffy takes a breath in between her barrage of words, the Latina puts her hands on her hips and speaks up. “You’ve got a good sense of humor, nena.” She cracks her neck audibly and rolls her muscular shoulders. “But I’ve never seen anyone win a fight with their mouth. Are you going to--”
Taffy holds up a hand and just talks right over her opponent. “No, no, kidding aside. I’m sure where you come from, you’re like the strongest Monchichi or pokemon or whatever. But now,” Taffy practically laughs while gesturing around the ring. “You’re here with me. So let’s just show everyone who’s really strongest.” A solitary hand raises in the universal move for a test of strength. “C’mon, half-pint. Everyone whatcha got.” Taffy tosses the mic and waits for a reaction.
The answer is swift and silent as Alejandra immediately snaps her hand into Taffy’s, the humor gone from her face and replaced entirely by fire. This is not going to be some slow, methodical test of strength, both women clearly eager to show their dominance, and a split-second later, their other hands slam together. The FAWNatics hush for a moment. While Alejandra has put herself squarely in their corner, Taffy’s domineering size makes her victory in this contest likely.
And at first, that is how it goes down. As both women’s powerful physiques strain, muscles flaring into relief as they push against each other, Black’s sheer height and leverage advantage turns the fit Puerto Rican’s initial push into an inevitable backslide. Arms quavering with effort, Alejandra tries to make every inch her hands spread to her sides cost all the effort possible, but it looks to be a losing fight. A sick smirk splits Taffy’s lips as the Amazonian wrestler pushes onward, even as sweat beads on each woman’s brow.
But just before Taffy manages to snap Alejandra’s arms all the way down and take full control of the hold, a growl rumbles in the Latina’s throat, and she digs down deep. The descent stops, and as that growl erupts into a roar, Alejandra pushes back. Taffy’s eyes widen in disbelief as what she saw as a pint-sized pushover starts to muscle her way back into control. Inch by painful inch, Alejandra rises, but this cannot last. It is clearly taking a tremendous effort to win this moment, but instead of simply using more of her strength to regain control, Taffy opts for the cheap option, suddenly thrusting a big knee out the moment the Latina has pushed back to a vertical base. The shot blasts Alejandra right in her chiseled abs, breaking her grip as it knocks the wind out of her.
Alejandra backs up, bent over and clutching her midsection. She immediately feels jagged nails dive into her ebony tresses and rake the back of her scalp. “Aww, po’ bay-beh,” Taffy coos. “You fell down. Lemme help you UP!” On “up” Taffy pivots slinging the smaller fighter into the cables by her own long hair. Alejandra bounds off the ropes awkwardly, only to return and meet a Chuck Taylor to the mouth.
Alejandra falls to her back but she is far from out. Immediately she sees the silhouette of Black above her and rolls to the side before that same shoe slams into the part of the mat her face once was.
Alicea pushes herself up, managing to get to a crouch before Black again snags her by the mane. “I ain’t done with you yet, meat,” Taffy hisses as she winds her claw into Alejandra’s hair as best she can. Over the protests of the referee about hair pulling, Taffy pulls her free hand back in a cocked fist. “How about a little off the top?”
With her hair in a twisted claw, Alejandra has no place to go, so she does the one thing she knows how to do: endure. Muscles tense and ready as the punch cracks across the Latina’s chin, hard enough to dull her vision and hard enough that Taffy lets go, just to see her little plaything spin from the blow. Alejandra twists and falls, arms draped over the top ropes in a daze.
The FAWNatics break out into a chorus of boos, anticipating that Taffy is going to savage the smaller girl, and it looks like they might be right as Black steps forward, murder in her eyes and hands ready to choke Alejandra over the top rope. But just as she is about to get that hold, Alicea seems to come back to life. She suddenly pushes off the top rope in a surge, throwing a back elbow in the process. Taffy, caught off-guard, takes the elbow right between her breasts and staggers back from the impact.
“You’re right, nena,” Alejandra spits out as she throws her back into the strands she had just left. “We aren’t done yet!” Bouncing right back off the ropes, the Latina spitfire throws herself into a jumping shoulder black, hoping to combine strength and athleticism to take the big woman off her feet.
The impact is stunning and Taffy is handily knocked off her feet. Going ass over teakettle, Taffy slams back-first into the canvas with Alejandra on top of her. Alejandra plants her palms onto Taffy’s chest and pushes herself up, whipping her long hair back from her eyes, before smirking down at her obviously shocked opponent. The smaller newcomer hauls back and slams an open-handed chop just above Taffy’s breasts and the hollow crack fills the auditorium. Taffy’s face flushes with pain and rage, but she seems almost incapable of acting.
So much the better for Alejandra, who slides off her mount and grabs Taffy’s right arm. Sliding the appendage between her own thighs, Alejandra drapes her legs over Taffy’s chest and sinches in an armbar. The howls of anguish one would expect from such a muscular woman trying to rip off one’s arm aren’t present, but the immediate flush to Taffy’s face betrays the agony.
“Look!” Alejandra giggles. “I’m having a Taffy pull!”
Black peers back at her attacker, hate simmering. “Never… heard that… before,” she grunts with sarcasm as she begins rocking to her side, trying to pull herself closer to the ropes. While Alejandra leans back and redoubles her efforts with a grunt of effort, the pain isn’t enough to keep the long-limbed Taffy from getting a foot on the ropes.
The referee is right there, attentive for once in a blue moon, and begins to count as he calls for the break. The bronzed Puerto Rican beauty is quick to follow the rules, letting the hold go and rolling to her feet. Taffy, on the other hand, looks to be slow to rise and favors her right arm badly.
Alejandra grins, bouncing on her toes as she feels the momentum building inside of her, and the moment Taffy clambers to her feet, she moves in to capitalize. As she snatches the Amazon’s wounded arm, Alicea discovers to her chagrin that Black wasn’t nearly as hurt as she let on, suddenly yanking back with all her weight and might.
Perhaps if Alejandra had been ready, she could have braced against the pull or ducked the short-arm clothesline that followed, but she fell for Taffy’s ploy, hook, line, and sinker. It’s all she can do to twist at the last moment, but all that accomplishes is keeping her head still attached to her body as Black’s blow blasts her off her feet, almost sending her flipping a full turn with its raw power and momentum.
Even as Alicea hits the mat in a heap, though, there is a spot of hope, as it is clear that Black’s hurt arm wasn’t all trickery. Taffy’s face is still a grimace as she turns to the downed and groaning Latina, rubbing her right elbow and shoulder to try to get it back to a hundred percent again.
“That actually hurt,” she growls as malicious intent is clear in her eyes. “Guess even a flea can bite.”
Taffy yanks Alejandra by the scruff of the neck and slings her into a corner. The padding on the turnbuckles offers a minimum of protection for the impact. The taller woman advances, shaking out her arm, just as the young Latina raises her head to address Taffy.
Whatever words Alejandra had planned to deliver are lost in a ferocious backhand across the mouth that snaps her head to the side. The bitch slap knocks both sense from her head and taste from her mouth. Frankly, it’s a hit she simply never expected to just hurt so damn much.
Taffy cups Alejandra’s chin and pushes her head back up. “Oh, and since you’ve seemed to enjoy touching mine a couple of times.” Another deafening crack, this time across Alejandra’s breasts. The Puerto Rican holds back her urge to sound out the pain, but the open-hand chop from Taffy’s left hand steals a precious cry out. Taffy cackles. “Yeah, when it comes to slappin’ little hoes around, I’m ambidextrous.” Alejandra begins to sag slightly when a large shoe slams into her throat, choking her into the corner.
The referee finally acts. “C’mon, Taffy. You know the rules. Let her go.”
Taffy looks back to the ref and smiles sweetly as she sings a familiar song. “Let her go… let her go...can’t hold her back anymore... let her go--”
The referee throws up a finger, followed by a second, and a third. By the fourth finger, the Amazon knows a DQ is coming so she releases the foot and reaches for her foe’s head. As the pressure is released, Alejandra slumps in the corner, her chest heaving as she manages a gasp of clean air.
For Taffy’s part, though, she seems nonplussed as she struts out of the corner. A good portion of the FAWNatics on hand have clearly chosen what side of the fence the woman-in-black is on, and their chorus of boos is nothing but sweet wine to Black as she drinks it in.
“What a bunch of ungrateful shits,” she bellows out into the crowd. “I thought you people liked winners?!” Black thumbs her nose as she turns back on the downed Latina still trying to recover from her beating so far in this match, her raven tresses a messy curtain over her face. “Fine then. I’ll get my satisfaction with you, Little Miss High-And-Mighty.” Taffy snorts as she reaches down to grab a hold of those luscious locks. “Emphasis on the little.”
Alicea begins to stir with a mixture of anger and pain the moment Black starts to yank up on her hair once again. Forced to comply with the big woman’s tugging or risk losing her scalp, Alejandra is dragged up to her feet, but through the pain running through her, the muscular Latina suddenly fires off a shot into Black’s chiseled gut. Despite Taffy’s obvious resilience, she flinches from the hard shot even though she doesn’t loosen her grip… not that Alejandra lets that stop her. Without a pause, she rears back and launches another powerful right, a blow hard enough to stagger the towering woman back a step.
But just as Alejandra cocks back for a third blow, one sure to break Black’s grip on her, the vicious grappler snarls, her wounded arm lashing out to twin into the Puerto Rican’s hair before suddenly pulling with all her might. Alejandra lets out a scream of agony as she is yanked off her feet hair first before Taffy twists and releases, sending the smaller fighter hurtling across the ring for a painful crash chest-first on the mat.
“Oooh, someone thought they were gonna show me what for!” Taffy chuckles, her Mississippi twang making itself evident. She lifts Alejandra’s right leg and soars a kick into her thigh. It’s a small mercy that Taffy doesn’t wear wrestling boots, which have a stiffer toe than her ancient Chuck Taylor sneakers, but it still hurts like a cramp from hell. A second kick flies in but, either by design or because of Alejandra’s movement, it misses her thigh and instead slams into her undercarriage for a perfect field goal of pain.
The referee steps in, wagging a finger. “No low blows!”
“Tell her not to move her pussy into my kick!” Taffy protests. Taffy hoists the captured leg and slams the knee into the mat. This time Alejandra only offers a grunt of recognition, refusing the bully any satisfaction. Taffy watches her enemy slowly try to push her way up, partly for the satisfaction of how much she’d done to her so far, partly because Alejandra has a surprisingly nice ass. Still, work to be done. As the Latina pushes herself up to all fours, she feels the canvas shake. Alejandra looks up in time to see Taffy bounding off the ropes and rushing towards her, aiming to plant her face back with a monstrous curb stomp.
CURB STOMP:
The Latina tries to roll, but with the punishment that she’s already absorbed, her body just can’t deliver. The sickening crack of a shoe sole on flesh booms through the arena, only matched by the crash of Alejandra’s head on the canvas. Taffy looks like the cat that stole the cream, if the cat also stabbed five other cats to get it, as Alejandra recoils off the matt, arms instinctively clutching her tortured skull before sprawling flat on her back, seemingly dead to the world save for the rise and fall of her gorgeous breasts. There’s a moment of silence out in the crowd until one FAWNatic breaks the silence with, “Is she dead?!”
Taffy snickers as she dusts off her hands. “No, but she’s toast.” Then she idly drops to the mat over Alejandra, leaning on the Latina’s chest back first with an admittedly lazy pin. Not that Black needed to hook the leg. Little Miss Muscles was out like a light. The ref dutifully drops to count the pinfall, even as some of the crowd breaks into a sudden round of cheers, a vain attempt to rally the beaten Alejandra back into the fight.
ONE…
TWO…
TH--
Taffy blinks as the fit beauty under her somehow stirs to life, managing a surprisingly strong kickout that bucks the Amazon almost up to a sitting position. Frustration fills her eyes and a growl roils in the back of her throat as she stomps to her feet, ignoring Alejandra for the moment to focus her ire on the referee.
“What kind of slow-ass count was that?!” Black roars as she slaps her hands together to mime a count. “One, two, three! Just like that, alright?” She seems completely unconcerned with her opponent and also ignores the rising cheers of the crowd.
A mistake, as it rises louder with every inch the Puerto Rican makes to rise. Her teeth are gritted, her chest heaves, and sweat drips off her rapidly bruising chin, but she gets to her hands and knees, then up to one knee before Taffy finally catches on. With a grimace of frustration, Black turns… right into a pair of red-and-white boots as a perfect dropkick graces her jaw. Unprepared and off-guard, the impact blasts her clean off her feet even as Alejandra lands a little roughly herself, still not anywhere fully recovered from her previous beating.
Still, the moment the Latina lands on her belly, she pushes back up as fast as she can. “You can’t beat a Borica so easy,” she growls between breaths as she charges toward her surprised opponent, still flat on her back. The split-second before coming up on her, Alejandra springs up, aiming for a pinpoint elbow drop right for the big woman’s gut.
The elbow slams into Taffy’s perfect abs, driving deep. Taffy’s mouth forms a perfect O as all the air rushes from her and she rolls to her side. This, of course, isn’t close to good enough for Alejandra - not after all the indignity that she’s been forced to suffer in such a short time.
“Where’s all that talk, Miss Thing?” Alejandra demands as she rises. Her accent seems to thicken with her rage. “Come on, where’s all that talk?” She punctuates “talk” with another elbow drop, this time into Taffy’s ribs. Taffy’s mouth stretches to bellow but nothing comes out, still winded from the first elbow.
Alejandra stands up, raising her arms to the cheering fans. She turns to see Taffy stumbling, trying to push herself up while cradling her midsection. The Spitfire leans down and cups Taffy’s chin, forcing her to look up at her. “Oh, by the way, you seemed to have misplaced something. I believe this is yours.”
What follows is a crack so loud that most people are stunned to learn a support beam in the auditorium snapping hadn’t been the culprit. Instead, it’s Alejandra’s hand driving right across Taffy’s face, sending a stream of spit from her flapping lips. Surprisingly, Taffy doesn’t topple, but her wits are scrambled. Alejandra merely pulls her hair from her face and smiles.
“Yeah, I can go down that road too so don’t start what you can’t finish.” Alejandra grabs Taffy’s better rams and slings her backward into the ropes. As the Southern Amazon rebounds she attempts to clip Alicea’s head off with a clothesline but the smaller woman is too quick and deftly ducks. Instead, Alejandra shoves Taffy harder to the cables ahead and, on the rebound, catches her and lifts her up, holding her aloft for a moment for all - especially Taffy - to take in her athleticism before bringing her down in a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.
TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER:
Taffy slides from Alejandra’s knee and to the canvas. Learning from her opponent’s mistake, Alejandra hooks Taffy’s leg for a pin.
ONE…
T--
Taffy bucks, dislodging Alejandra. Alejandra had known it was a longshot but worth trying. She rises, scoffing, “I was offering you an easy way out. But if you’d rather tap, Taffy, let’s get a tap.” She moves behind Taffy and drops to a seat, wrapping her legs around Black’s neck in preparation for a figure four necklock. Taffy seems shocked at first and is a hair too slow to react and get a hand up to block the hold, and then the next second, Alejandra’s thick, chiseled thighs and calves bulge as she locks in the hold.
Black’s expression turns from shock and surprise to torturous pain as the Latina’s powerful legs torque the Southern woman’s neck and squeeze on important blood vessels. As her face reddens, she struggles to deny Alejandra any satisfaction of a cry or a yell, but that gets a thousand times worse when Alicea plants both her hands on the canvas and pushes up, elevating her torso and doubling down on the leverage on Taffy’s neck. To add insult to injury, Alejandra even smiles to the crowd, putting on a brave face through her own pain and fatigue, then keeps herself suspended with only one arm to show off an exquisitely chiseled bicep.
The FAWNatics that rallied behind the Puerto Rican Spitfire let out a round of appreciative cheers at her showmanship, and Taffy herself is strangely pleased because while that bit of showboating impresses the fans, it relieves just an iota of pressure. Just enough to let the big brawler slip a hand into Alejandra’s muscular legs, shift her head, and do the only thing she can think to do to get free: chomp down on the calf by her chin.
The expression change of Alejandra’s face will undoubtedly be an animated GIF used as a reaction across social media for years to come. The look of total pride and excitement quickly morphing into howling pain as strong teeth clamp into her muscle will be comedy gold to everyone but her. Before she can mount any type of defense, however, Taffy has slipped from her prison and scurried to the ropes, as far from Alejandra as she can get.
The referee kneels to check on Alejandra. “That psycho bit me!” she blurts. The referee looks to Taffy, who’s rubbing her neck.
“Bullshit, she got a cramp,” Taffy replies.
“There are teeth marks on my calf!” Alejandra says as she struggles to rise.
“It was a hell of a cramp,” Taffy adds with a smirk. The taller woman lunges at Alejandra, taking a wild swing. It would have taken the head off of a less prepared fighter but Alicea easily dips and drives an axe handle into Taffy’s belly. Taffy halts and steps back only to be met with an elbow driven across her face. Before Black can try to evade any more, Alejandra reaches forward and pulls Taffy into a belly-to-belly bearhug, lifting her off her feet.
The crowd cheers as Alejandra wrenches her grip tighter and tighter, feeling the ribs in her hug groan while Taffy’s arms flop around uselessly at her side. The only problem is the height difference puts Taffy’s large breasts right in her eyes. Above her, Alejandra hears laughter.
“You think your ribs snapping is funny?” Alejandra growls.
“No,” Taffy chortles, “but this is gonna be a laugh riot.” Immediately Taffy yanks up her bra to expose her breasts.
Alejandra stares in utter shock. She knows of what happens in FAWN but this is something she wasn’t prepared for. She finds herself gobsmacked, horrified, and impressed at the form and, frankly, large nipple size on Taffy.
That is, until Taffy slams her tits into Alejandra’s face and pulls the bra down over the back of Alejandra’s head. Taffy’s good arm wraps around the Puerto Rican’s head, locking her face into a breast smother, while her injured arm - still impressively capable - begins taking shots into the back of Alicea’s ribs.
While she had experienced much in her years wrestling in Puerto Rico, this simply is a situation that Alejandra hadn’t trained for. Her first instinct was to double-down, try to just squeeze tighter and win the struggle that way, but the problems with that were many. She couldn’t breathe, smothered by rather tantalizing breasts, each shot to her ribs added to her agony, and though loathe to admit it, she was maybe just a hint turned on. Her muscular arms start to go limp as she began to fade, her knees start to turn to jelly, and as the world goes grey, Taffy shows some form of mercy as she yanks Alejandra away from her impressive rack and out of her bra.
But that is no mercy at all. It is only a set-up for more pain. Taffy, sucking in her first full breath in minutes now that Alejandra wasn’t crushing her ribcage or her throat, takes a surprisingly spritely shuffle step back from the groggy, stumbling Latina then comes back in with a terrifyingly fast savate kick!
SAVATE KICK:
Black’s big Chuck Taylor slams into Alicea’s chin like a runaway freight train, and the blow levels the weakened wrestler like a felled tree. Though Alejandra hits the canvas hard, Taffy is clearly feeling the match catching up with her as well as she sinks to one knee. Wrapping her good arm around her aching ribcage, the Louisiana Amazon takes this brief respite to get back some steam.
This time, Alejandra does not immediately start pushing back to her feet. Only one leg languidly kicks, as if trying to desperately kick start her pummeled body. A cruel smirk crawls across Taffy’s face as she pushes to her feet.
“Didn’t you make a crack about pulling Taffy earlier, short stuff?” she snarks as she stomps over to the downed Spitfire. “Oh, right, you can’t answer me ‘cause I kicked your brain out through your skull.” Black roughly snatches Alicea’s left arm and pulls up, the half-unconscious powerhouse limply rolling onto her side with the motion. “Now, I’m going to show you a real Taffy’s Pull, and we’ll see who’s tapping out, bitch.”
It was the liquid agony that came when Taffy pulls up on Alejandra’s muscular arm with all her prodigious might while slamming a big foot right down on the Latina’s rib cage that wakes her right up. Though Alejandra is a proud woman, she feels no shame when she lets out a torturous scream as Taffy applies terrible pressure on her arm, shoulder, and ribs, but that scream turns into a drawn-out, “NO!” when the ref drops to check on her.
Taffy keeps the pull going a bit longer than necessary. She knows Alejandra won’t submit to this but she feels she owes her for what the imp did to her own arm. Finally, she releases the arm, only to step with all her weight onto Alejandra’s ribs and move behind her. To drive the point home she sends a swift and cruel kick to the base of the mighty mite’s skull. FAWNatics cringe in horror. A lone, angry, “BOO!” sounds from the front row.
Taffy runs to the ropes. “Really? You think a fucking ‘boo’ is gonna hurt my feelings?” she laughs at a pudgy balding man in the front. She points at him. “For your lack of creativity, I’ve got to punish her more.” Taffy goes to Alejandra, who is still except for anguished panting on the canvas, and pulls her up and places her over her shoulders, her back to the back of Taffy’s head. She struts back to the ropes and smiles at the fan. “This is for you, fucker.” And immediately she begins pulling Alenjandra’s head and feet back in an accordion rack, desperately trying to get the two to touch.
ACCORDION RACK:
Anguished moans play from Alejandra’s lungs and, frankly, Taffy loves every note. When it’s obvious her captive is going to offer no struggles against her, Taffy walks to the center of the ring. She adjusts the hold slightly before dropping Alejandra face-first to the mat in a devastating F5.
F5:
When the ring stops shaking from the impact, Alejandra is splayed out like a slightly warm corpse, and Taffy is left standing, seething, and strangely unsatisfied. Instead of going for the pin, the smart move to win, Black stomps over to the semi-conscious Puerto Rican and kicks her over roughly from her back to flat on her chest. Faint signs of life look to stir in Alicea, the fingers of her right hand start to flex, almost as if she is trying to grip the mat to crawl to the ropes, and the sight of that only looks to frustrate Taffy.
“Just give the fuck up already!” she roars as she suddenly knelt down to snatch Alejandra by the chin. Cupping it, Taffy then drops the rest of the way down while yanking back with both arms. A moment’s shifting and Alejandra lets out a fresh growl of pain, what likely was a scream muffled by having her jaw clamped shut by the pressure of the hold. Once it was cinched in, Taffy took the time to make this proper, freeing one hand for a moment to pull the Latina’s sculpted arms back over her knees.
CAMEL CLUTCH:
Taffy pulls and yanks, closing her eyes as she tries to wring the words she so wants out of the proud wrestler’s lips, but nothing comes out but pained grunts. The ref drops down to check on Alejandra, certain she is just passed out as her arms seem to be limp over the Amazon’s knees, but that only raises Black’s ire.
“Fuck you, stripes!” she barks out as she lets off the pressure just a bit. “I don’t want you to fuck with her. I want this bitch to give up!”
And it is that demand that seems to spark some last ember in Alejandra’s heart. As Taffy shoes the referee off with one hand, the fiery Puerto Rican’s arms flex and her eyes half-open. The growl of agony seems to twist into one of effort as she starts to desperately push with her knees. Black doesn’t notice, not immediately, not until she feels herself shift upward, and by then, Alejandra has a knee under them both. Taffy swiftly moves to counter, to clamp back on the clutch and shift her balance, but she is too late, as Alejandra manages to pull her other knee under her as she clamps both arms around Black’s thighs.
With a thunderous cry of pure effort and strain, Alicea thrusts up with both powerful legs and just as suddenly, as soon as she is half standing with Taffy trying to desperately keep a hold over her back, Alejandra drops back abruptly. Black’s back hits the canvas hard, then all of the Latina’s weight and muscle squashes her between them, compounded by her sheer shock at being put in this situation.
Alejandra rolls off Taffy, too addled and drained to roll back into a pin, and for a long moment, both women lie spent on the mat. Still, before the referee can begin a double count-out, both women stir. Taffy rolls on to her hands and knees, and Alejandra manages to crawl to the ropes. As she pulls herself up strand by strand, Taffy slams the mat with her palms in pain and frustration.
Alejandra shoots the tantrum-throwing Amazon a grim, painful smile. “Don’t know how to say quit where I come from,” she gets out between panting breaths. “You do, you might as well be dead.”
Black has no pithy comeback this time. Instead, she surges to her feet and charges, looking fit to just tear the Latina’s head off in her rage with a lariat, but that’s when Alejandra pushes herself off the cables. She uses her shorter stature to her advantage, slipping under the blow that would have torn her apart, and catches Taffy around the mid-section with one of her own strong arms. Her other arm loops under Taffy’s leg, and with a primal roar, the pint-sized powerhouse pulls Black up into what first looks to be a back suplex. But in mid-throw, she turns the Amazon sideways in midair and falls back with both knees up, guiding Black down into a Lumbar Check!
LUMBAR CHECK:
Taffy falls off Alejandra’s knees, her back a web of agony as she flops to the canvas from the Latina’s finishing move. A roar of cheers explodes across the arena at the Spitfire’s show of strength and heart… but those cheers start to taper when they realize that Alicea is in no better shape than her opponent. As if that last huge move took every last bit of effort out of her, Alejandra takes a full four seconds sprawled out on the mat and trying to recuperate before she can even think to roll over and crawl towards the wiped-out Southern girl to go for a pin.
By the time she pulls herself over Taffy, it is clear that Black is recuperating. Still, despite that, she doesn’t throw Alejandra off right away and the ref drops for a pin.
ONE!...
TWO!...
And that’s when Taffy roughly shoves her spent opponent off her to break the pin, much to the chagrin of the FAWNatics.
Alejandra looks down, exhausted, at the larger wrestler. She offers a weak smile. “Gotta hand it to you. You got some toughness to back that mouth up.”
Taffy pushes herself up to her elbows, also wearing, and smiles back. “Yeah, well, you ain’t--” the smile vanishes and a stream of spit shoots from Taffy’s lips into Alejandra’s eye. The moment shocks Alejandra, but not as much as the speed in which Taffy is up and pounces on her like a feral cat. Thumbs sink into her eyes as Alejandra’s falls back onto her back. They stay there, keeping her blind as two knees drive just beneath her diaphragm and force all the breath from her body.
She feels Taffy’s form clumsily slink behind her body. The thumbs leave her eyes but all Alejandra can see are stars and blurs through water. But she feels the arm slip under her neck and another brace behind her head. She knows it’s a sleeper. She opens her mouth but merely gapes like a carp on dry land, swallowing at air.
The referee checks Alejandra for submission. In her ear, she hears Taffy’s weary voice. “You submit or you go to sleep. And this is FAWN. You signed the same consent forms I did. You know what I can and WILL do to you if I have you at my mercy. Submit or be my toy.
Alejandra knows this isn’t a hollow threat. She does know the forms she signed. She’s seen past pay-per-views, where some of the matches are practically sex with punching. She knows the risk is real.
But she also knows her pride.
Vainly attempting to speak, she forces out a hoarse but defiant, “I… will never… submit to you!” as loud as she can, so that the mics pick it up and all the fans watching at home know well what she’s declared.
Taffy’s face grows redder and redder. This is not what she wants. And, sure, she plans on doing horrible things to Alejandra one way or another, but the first win being a submission would make it so much sweeter. But she knows that’s not how it will play out.
To the shock of all, Taffy releases the sleeper and stands. Alejandra slumps to her side, hungrily pulling in oxygen. “Fine,” Taggy growls. She reaches down and pulls Alejandra up, sliding her across her shoulders. She strides to the center of the ring where she ends the match with a Burning Hammer.
BURNING HAMMER:
Alejandra’s head slams into the canvas and the spitfire is extinguished. Taffy offers an insulting pin, a foot planted between Alejandra’s ample chest. As the FAWNatics boo, the referee counts.
ONE….
TWO…
THREE!
The bell rings and the announcer sparks up as the referee raises Taffy’s hand. “Your winner by pinfall… TAFFY BLACK!”
Taffy yanks her arm from the official like a pouting child and glares back at Alejandra’s still body.
This isn’t what she wanted. But she’ll take it. She leans down and slides her fingers into the prone woman’s top, considering a stripping. Something to play with. But a voice nags her.
It’s not fun if she’s out.
The fury boils over and Taffy loses herself. She rises and begins to angrily boot Alejandra in the face and body. The official screams for her to stop but she can’t control it. The more she realizes the Latina won’t be begging at her feet, naked and humiliated, the more she hates her. She loses track of the kicks. If she can’t have the fluids of pleasure, she’ll have blood.
Then the missile dropkick from behind. Taffy stumbles forward but catches herself. She spins around.
TRIXIE DECKER:
A petite goth woman stands up and glares at her. “You won. Now fuck off.”
Taffy smiles. “Guess I’m getting some pleas--”
Another dropkick from behind. She whips around and glares.
KELLI LOVE:
A bubbly blonde in pink lingerie and boots stares at her with icy blue eyes. “You won. You don’t have to be a cunt about it.”
The FAWNatics cheer at the return of faces they hadn’t seen in too long. But Taffy isn’t impressed. “A Hot Topic Employee and a blow-up doll are s’posed to stop me?”
ALOISIA BERGE:
SELIA BRACH:
KANAKO AKIYAMA:
A voice to Taffy’s side speaks out in a thick German accent. “Look, if you don’t like fair fights, we’ll give you an unfair fight.” Taffy turns and sees a statuesque Polynesian woman in a red two-piece and boots next to a tiny blonde in a black weightlifting singlet. Next to the powerlifter is another, more petite Asian in a halter top, leather jacket, and toght jeans.
Taffy starts to make a crack about the smaller fighters but then notices the little blonde’s muscles. Then she notices the shorter Asian woman whip out and stretch out a collapsible police baton.
“Be smart… for once in your life,” Kanako growls.
This… this might be bad.
Taffy raises a defiant finger. “Okay, first off!” she shouts angrily - then bolts, sliding under the bottom rope and running up the aisle.
Kelli smiles. “It’s good to be back.”
Trixie kneels next to Alejandra. “Too bad this place is the same as it’s always been.”
“AHEM!” Kelli says, clearing her throat. “Remember, I was the trained lifeguard.” She stoops and checks on Alejandra. “Hey, you in there?”
Groggily, the Latina’s eyes flutter open, and a look of pain, confusion, and relief flashes over her face. “Madre de Dios…” She obviously still a bit dazed as she rubs her aching skull. She takes in the faces of the gorgeous women above her and hears what sounds like thousands of voices chanting her name and applauding her. “Did I win…? Or am I in Heaven because I’m surrounded by angels?”