Post by hawkeye on Jun 11, 2020 1:03:49 GMT
Sammie inhaled, feeling nervous to her core, standing just before the curtains with ten pounds of oh so precious, EurAsia gold and leather strapped snugly about her slim tummy. It was a cherished possession, one she fought hard to defend and tonight was to be no different. Perfectly petite, she stood at five foot four and one hundred ten pounds, the Brit Brunette composing herself before the threshold as she prepared to face a steep challenge, closing her eyes as she anticipated the moment.
Cleona Flynn.
Last Women Standing.
Everything on the line.
Sammie exhaled deeply and opened her eyes, hopping from one foot to the other until a helpful stagehand gave the signal, Sinclair nodding in return before stepping forwards, just as…
FEEL INVINCIBLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gco_SAvHVSM
…erupted from the loud speakers, the FAWNatics officially losing their collective sh*t upon the arrival of the People’s Princess. She smiled, bright and true, throwing her arms up into the air as she felt heady from the experience, FAWN’s Favourite Girl Next Door standing in at five foot four and one hundred ten pounds of instant heartbreak.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
As caught up in the moment as her supporters, Sammie wiggled her fingers before bringing her hands together, the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance following her lead as they collectively clapped…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…before she pointed dramatically towards the squared circle, pyrokinetics exploding to either side of her to add an exclamation point to her declaration!!
With the crowd now suitably in full voice, the Upstart Supreme shot off down the ramp at a spirited pace, darting left and then right at irregular intervals, intuition guiding her to those in most need of a little attention, delivering short hugs to make their collective evenings.
Soon enough, the squared circle was a mere few yards before her, and the EurAsia Champion accelerated at a sprint, leaping the final distance and springing her lithe physique up onto the apron. Riding the momentum, she grasped the top ropes and cleanly vaulted over the uppermost coil, landing lightly before she marched to centre ring.
There she met William, her Official for the evening, a gentleman with greying hair and, one could argue, had far more years behind him than he still had in front. Sammie liked him a great deal, he had officiated several of her father’s matches in years gone by, and a fairer hand she could not ask for. That affection went both ways, and his concern could not be hidden from her perception.
“It’s fine,” Sinclair insisted, the Upstart Supreme flashing him her most assuring smile. “I’ve fought bigger.”
“Oh,” William nodded, performing his due diligence with a pat down, searching for concealed weapons he knew damn well wouldn’t be there. “How did that go?”
Sammie’s smile faltered only slightly, her memory returning to times past. “Not so great,” she admitted, stealing her resolve with a shrug. “But that was then, and this now. Flynn has no idea of what’s about to hit her.”
William nodded in agreement and, somewhat reluctantly, Sinclair unbuckled the EurAsia Title free from about her toned tummy and handed the strap over for to him for safe keeping, vowing to herself then and there to win it back by the end of the evening.
“I’ve got this,” she reaffirmed, the People’s Princess finding her corner, preparing herself for the next storm to arrive, keeping herself limber. “You’ve had your fun Cleona, now it’s my turn.”
It felt like a lifetime, but in reality, it was but a few moments before…
BAD THINGS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA
…began blaring from the loud speakers, and a curvy brunette emerged from behind the curtains when she was good and ready, strolling out into view and coming to a full stop at centre stage. In one hand, Lady Lydia Lethbridge brandished an elegantly crafted, gleaming, ebony cane, one tipped with a beautifully sculptured, silver forged wolfs head, glowering as though it had picked up the scent of blood. She planted it in the ground before her, clasping it imperiously with both palms, tipping up her chin up just so as she looked to the left with faint disregard, before offering the right the very same disdain, her dark, covetous eyes ultimately coming to a rest on the ring before her.
LADY LYDIA LETHBRIDGE
Standing in at five foot two and one hundred seventeen pounds, she flashed a grin of ill intent, one filled to overflowing with smug satisfaction as, from places best left unknown, she procured a microphone. Remaining on the stage, she brought the stick up to her lips, her big, covetous eyes unwavering from the Upstart Supreme in the ring.
“Halfwits and Simpletons,” she began, her smirk widening into a near feral grin, filled with barely restrained hunger, enduring the cascade of boos being rained down upon her as though they did not exist. “As forewarned, allow me to introduce your NEXT EurAsia Champion, my firm, right hand, CLEONA! FLYNN!!”
KILLER INSIDE OF ME
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-ykAnJRPiw
…emerged from the sound system and, all too soon, the Celtic Constrictor arrived on the stage.
CLEONA FLYNN
She didn’t pause as she made her presence known, standing in at five foot six and one hundred fifty two pounds, the Redheaded Reaper cut an imposing silhouette as she marched down the ramp, not batting an eyelid as she passed her Ladyship on the stage and cut the most direct route possible to the squared circle. There was no ceremony in her stride as she zeroed in on her objective, stalwart and unflinching in the face of, what should be, the biggest night of her career, Cleona declaring neither fanfare nor boasts.
Lydia fell into step a few paces behind her hired help, setting off down the ramp at a stately pace. As she sauntered towards the squared circle, she thrust the head of her cane in the direction of those in the crowd that especially displeased her. There was no shortage of candidates, the FAWNatics not shy in showering her with scorn, and she marked out each and every one to be disciplined later.
With only a few yards separating Flynn from the ring, Cleona picked up the pace, the Scottish Sociopath leaping up onto the apron and, as if she were not one of the stars of the evening, she sat down on the middle rope and lifted the top, waiting patiently for Lethbridge to join her.
Unhurried, Lydia ascended the steel steps, the Princess of Privilege ducking neatly through the hole provided by her ‘firm right hand’, displaying not even a hint of appreciation before she sauntered towards centre ring, imperiously planting her ebony cane into the canvas before her. She smirked, wicked to the core.
Flynn followed her in a moment later, the Redheaded Reaper seemingly in no further hurry, exhaling deeply before rolling her shoulders, shrugging off her leather jacket with the words ‘GET WRECKED’ stencilled across the back. To the surprise of the FAWNatics Cleona looked, if anything, faintly bored with the unfolding drama, far from being a young woman on the cusp of achieving considerable success.
Sammie, unsure of where this was going, refused to be bullied by the Commonwealth as she strode forwards, the EurAsia Champion meeting Lydia at centre ring.
“Sinclair,” Lethbridge purred, her wide grin displaying her sharpest teeth, the tips of her fingers drumming the silver wolf head of her cane.
“Lydia,” Sammie nodded back, noticeably more cordial as the two Brits stood eye to eye.
“There is no need for matters to escalate,” Lethbridge reasoned, although her tone betrayed her condescension. “Feel free to concede.”
The People’s Princess didn’t miss a beat, saying all she needed to by breaking eye contact with Lydia, and instead locked stares with the only other woman in the ring that actually mattered to her tonight. “Feel free to get out of the way.”
Lethbridge tutted, as though she were disappointed, shaking her head before licking her top lip. Turning away, she marched past Cleona, pausing only to whisper some manner of command to the Scot before departing the squared circle. Flynn nodded before striding to centre ring, meeting Sammie there for the first time in scheduled contest. Sinclair met her gaze, having to look up slightly to do so. It was not the two inches that separated them in height that Sammie found daunting, it was the forty-two extra pounds of muscle that she found concerning.
Sinclair hid it well, she would overcome.
It was in her blood to do so.
“Alright, ladies,” William appeared beside them, preparing to bring the match to a start. “You should both know how this goes, but just to be clear, this is Last Woman Standing. No pin falls, no submissions, no count outs, no disqualifications, no rope breaks. The match continues until one or both of you cannot answer my count of ten. If I start counting, neither of you is to engage. Understood?”
Sammie nodded.
Cleona yawned.
“Right then,” the official sighed, standing back and coaxing the two young women do likewise.
Both Sinclair and Flynn retreated a half pace.
William called for the bell.
Cleona strode forwards…
…and Sinclair met her at centre ring, the People’s Princess springing into action as she braced her frame and then SNAPPED her right, athletic stem high up into the air like a bolt of lightning!! With an audible CRACK she slammed her boot into the underside of Cleona’s jaw, NAILING!! the Scottish Sociopath with a beautiful Sammie Kick!!
Flynn’s head whipped back sharply from the recoil, spit flying out from between her clenched teeth as the FAWNatics ERUPTED in shared joy, the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance making themselves heard as their heroine struck. Cleona stumbled, retreating one step and then two, an all too familiar shimmy in her knees before she…
…didn’t tumble over!!
Instead, she folded forwards, clutching her jaw and shaking her head as she expelled a string curses in Gaelic dialect, each one sounding more irritated than the one before. The arena fell into silence as Flynn didn’t hit the deck as she was supposed to, the Celtic Constrictor instead shrugging off the match ending strike without even losing her footing.
Even Sammie was surprised, the EurAsia Champion having upended dozens of opponents the world over with that very same blow, and she had to recover quickly to prevent a fresh flutter of nerves from becoming visible on her features.
“F*ck a duck,” Cleona complained, flexing her jaw after she stood up straight, repositioning herself opposite Sinclair with perhaps a tiny bit more respect. “That actually hurt. Enough of that now, I don’t have all day.”
Flynn advanced, flexing her sore cheek, threatening to shorten the distance between herself and Sammie before the perfectly petite Brit had time to recover her composure. No such luck for Cleona on that front however, the Sinclair Sisters made of sterner stuff that they were given credit for, the smaller brunette darting forwards as well in time with her Challenger.
The Upstart Supreme had no desire to lock up however, refusing to play to her opponent’s own strengths, and she instead ducked low and darted between Flynn’s steel corded limbs. She shot on by, speed her greatest ally in this contest, hurtling her beautifully sinewy physique towards the opposite sent of ring ropes. She turned about before throwing herself against them, feeling them pull taunt and prepared to be catapulted back across the ring at even greater velocity…
…only for Lydia Lethbridge, still outside the ring where she intended to remain for the duration, grabbed her by the ankle and prevented any opportunity to build momentum!
The FAWNatics cried foul as, caught unawares, Sammie stumbled forwards, a surprised shout escaping her lips as her sprint became a stumble. Unsteady, she was easy prey for Flynn, who scooped the People’s Princess up into her arms and muscled her up and across her shoulders as though she weighed nothing. With her stunning cargo strapped in place by way of Fireman’s Carry, Cleona assured that her palms were secured across the nape of Sinclair’s neck and about one of her firm thighs, no-where for her foe to go as the Redheaded Reaper THREW herself backwards for an already dreaded, Celtic Drop!!
CELTIC DROP: @0:15 Onwards
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xG3K3agXbG4
With a loud and heartfelt GROAN, Sammie found herself flattened between the weight of Flynn’s rigid shoulders and the barely yielding plywood, SLAMMED into the mat with enough force to kick her stems up into the air before they flopped out in a heap. She trembled as she rolled over onto her front, the toe of one of her boots tapping a distress call down onto the canvas as Cleona, none the worse for wear, powered her way back up to standing.
Flynn wasted no time in turning about, just as she made equally little fanfare as she leapt into the air and sat out, looking for all the world as though she were just going through the motions as she prepared to land a Leg Drop!! The last time she had connected at March to War, Sammie had not gotten back up under her own power, and tonight that would prove disastrous as gravity brought her swiftly back to earth…
…Sinclair’s memory, however, was more than long enough to remember where this was going and, with a stubborn streak a mile wide, the minatures Brit rolled her way to safety, just barely avoiding being flattened beneath one hundred and fifty-two pounds of body weight.
With her landing pad no longer being in the shape of a small person, Cleona released a loud, single syllable curse as her round buttocks instead connected with the canvas! The loud THUMP and sharp recoil bounced her back up to one knee, cradling her tail bone as Lydia, at ringside, pointed her cane at the Official as if she had something valid to protest.
Sammie was back up onto her feet first, Babyface resilient as, with a neat spiral, she returned to boot leather a fraction of a second before an irate Flynn could find hers. Sinclair didn’t stay on them for long, the athletic Brit spinning about and throwing herself into the air, kicking out with a delightful Drop Kick that NAILED Cleona clean against her torso!
With a sharp exhale, Cleona back peddled two full steps before regaining her balance, all in the time it took for Sammie to return to earth with a controlled bump. It took Sinclair exactly zero seconds to realise that her opponent was still upright and, not pausing, she was back on her feet in a flash. Again, she advanced, and again she launched into a second, beautiful Drop Kick, this time accompanied by a (not as fearsome as she imagined) war cry as she NAILED!! Flynn with the underside of her boot leather even harder than before!!
Flynn grunted, continuing her enforced retreat before she dropped down to one knee!! Still, she would not tumble to the canvas, but Sammie was making progress. Riding her momentum, Sinclair scrunched her button nose with determination and rolled herself backwards onto her shoulders before, with a cheer from the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance, the People’s Princess dramatically powered back up to her feet by way of FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up!!
Not hesitating for a second, she darted forwards at a sprint, spotting her foe dropped down to penitent position, gauging the distance before taking to the air, SLAMMING her weaponised knee into Cleona’s temple with a stunning Golden Wizard!!
GOLDEN WIZARD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiHreVqEhsY
The WHACK!! echoed out across the front rows and, as Sammie sailed past, the Scottish Sociopath was ROCKED back onto her haunches. The FAWNatics held their collective breath as the hardbody Brit teetered further and further to the side… until a low growl pushed out from her lips and she stubbornly straightened herself back up to kneeling, preventing herself from falling.
Hiding her disbelief well, Sinclair pushed herself back off her pert booty, setting her sights on getting right back to work. Setting herself, Sammie lined up her target, puffing out her freckled cheeks before, to the delight of the crowd watching, she snapped out her right, athletic stem to deliver a sweet as you like Sammie Kick!! One that would surely do the trick this time…
…only for Cleona to catch the coveted limb a good inch from her features!! Holding Sinclair’s ankle in both hands, Flynn shook her head slowly before blinking a few times to clear the cobwebs. Her senses so gathered, she glowered at Sammie in mild irritation.
“What did I say?” the Scot questioned as she pushed herself back up to standing, undoing all of Sinclair’s hard work as she kept a hold of her foes leg. Sammie was hopping on her free stem, searching for a way out, but when Cleona yanked hard on her new possession, the smaller young woman was forced to stumble forwards and tumble right into her grasp. “I said less of that!”
Long before Sinclair could formulate an escape, the Celtic Constrictor wrapped both of her strong arms about the slim brunettes toned waist, and pulled the EurAsia Champion in tight into a FIERCE Bearhug! Sammie GASPED as Cleona pulsed her biceps, the very first constriction winding the petite Brit and popping the brunette up onto the tippiest of her tip toes, Champion and Challenger now eye to eye as the former was well and truly captured by the latter, exactly where she didn’t want to be.
The second pulse from Flynn’s strong biceps was accompanied by a forceful GROWL from the Redheaded Reaper and a mournful GROAN from the EurAsia Champion, the stiff spasm that ran the length of Sinclair’s stems jerking her clean off her boot leather as her athletic legs involuntarily wrapped up and around her Challenger’s wider hips. With her thighs now open wide about Cleona’s probing pelvis, Sammie bit down on her bottom lip, closing her pretty peepers as she shoved her palms down on her foes encircling coils.
There was no give to be found in those steel corded pythons, despite Sammie’s best efforts to pry her way loose, her lips parting into a wide, shocked GASP as, Flynn tightened her grip even further, Sinclair’s pert bosom hiking in response to the sudden increase in pressure. With a long and plaintive moan, the petitely packaged Brit pushed back on Cleona’s rigid shoulders, but a third sharp tightening of limbs robbed the Upstart Supreme of even that token resistance, the young woman’s arms slowly sliding down to sway at her sides as her head began to bob idly on her slim shoulders.
With her fellow Brit looking increasingly lethargic, her breath coming out in short grunts, pretty peepers fluttering to half lidded, Cleona turned on the spot slowly, displaying to the world what would, on any other evening, be all but an assured victory. Just in case that the implications were not clear to all of those watching, Lethbridge was regally applauding outside the ring, showboating to the hard camera as Sinclair was on the verge of passing out.
As Flynn continued to work her smaller foe over in stages, squeezing just a little bit more every few heartbeats, Sammie was soon hanging limp in her grasp, slumped forwards against her opponent and moving only when she was prompted, constricted into submission in shockingly short order. The grunt that Cleona released did not sound impressed.
“All that talk,” Flynn exhaled, looking disappointed, “I expected you to last longer.”
“Ms. Flynn,” the Official stepped in with a polite reminder, growing increasingly concerned over Sammie’s increasingly slack frame. “Unless you let go, I can’t start counting.”
“Oh,” Cleona shrugged, inadvertently bobbing Sinclair’s head up and down as she did so. “I know.”
Without further word, Flynn picked out the far corner and barrelled into a sudden charge, closing the distance with frightening speed before she SLAMMED the People’s Princess back first into the turnbuckles!! Sammie all but howled in response, the sudden, sharp pain that wracked her smaller body doing a great deal to snap her out of her enforced stupor, the young woman grimacing as she turned rigid in her opponents grasp.
Cleona released her ensnared cargo, dropping Sinclair back down to her own boot leather and, for just a moment, it looked like she might even remain standing. Her athletic thighs, however, had other ideas entirely as, with a quiver, they immediately gave out, Sammie slumping to a seat in the corner, her little, taunt booty coming down to the canvas with a small bump. Greedily, she inhaled deep breaths, her lungs filling back up with much needed oxygen as her peepers began to flutter open.
She needed a great deal more time to fully recover, but Flynn wasn’t about to provide, grasping the top ropes to either side the of the uppermost turnbuckle, the Scottish Sociopath reared back before driving back forwards and SLAMMING her boot down HARD onto Sinclair’s unprotected torso. With GRUNTS and GROANS, Sammie bucked but was unable to resist as Cleona followed up her first stomp with a further two more, driving the brunette deeper into the mat and leaving her in a stupor.
Satisfied that Sinclair had been suitably plastered flat against the deck, the girl’s arms and legs spread out in a starfish, Flynn hauled herself up to the second turnbuckle. The FAWNatics, already despairing current events, begged for Cleona to not follow through, but evidently, she was not listening as, after pushing off from her perch on the ropes, the Celtic Constrictor was airborne for scarcely a second before she plummeted back down to earth.
Gravity had apparently decided to be a bytch to Sammie tonight as it dragged all one hundred and fifty-two pounds of her Challenger to the ground at a great deal of speed, almost every single bit of the Scots weight DROPPING down atop Sinclair’s petite body with a BANG!! Jolted with a sharp spasm, the EurAsia Champions stems kicked up almost violently into the air before they flopped back down on the matt, spreading out in a wide V with her right boot twitching.
Sammie, otherwise, did not move, her expression vacant as Cleona remained sat atop her, looking down at the freckled Brit with visible detachment, Sinclair showing no signs of resistance. It was not lost on the People that their Princess was unmoving on the canvas, her shoulders pinned to the mat well past a three count.
“Cleona,” William once again felt the need to step in. “I can’t start counting until you…”
“I know!” Cleona figuratively swatted him away. “I’m not thick, give me a minute,” she insisted, still gazing down at Sammie’s glazed features, as though she were hypnotised by the sight. She grunted after a little longer, hauling herself up off Sinclair and returning to boot leather, the young woman she had squashed beneath her inhaling a deep, desperate breath the moment her lungs were no longer being crushed.
William wasted no time in stepping in and beginning his count, feeling somehow traitorous for hoping that the match would end here.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!
FIVE!!!!!
With a visible grimace, Sammie winced and released a long groooooooan, forcibly rolling herself over as she exhaled deeply, grasping a hold of the bottom rope before she allowed herself to relax slightly. Following a deep, pained sigh, Sinclair fluttered her pretty peppers open and, with a scrunch of her button nose, she began to drag herself across the canvas, managing to reach the middle rope as the Official likewise reached…
SIX!!!!!!
SEVEN!!!!!!!
…and, by the time he reached…
EIGHT!!!!!!!!
…Sammie grabbed the top rope and HAULED herself back up to vertical with a defiant shout, the Upstart Supreme beating the ten count to the relief of the FAWNatics. That, unfortunately, was also all of the incentive that Cleona required to zero back in, the Redheaded Reaper stalking her smaller foe down with single minded intent.
“Should have stayed down,” Flynn explained calmly, her demeanour seeming to be more put out than angry, grabbing Sinclair by her throat before the brunette had even pushed herself out of the ropes. “Was trying to do you a favour.” With Sammie just barely on her feet, Cleona shoved her other hand under the girl’s shoulder before, with a sharp pivot, she released a loud shout and hauled the People’s Princess clean up off the canvas, hurling her lightweight, petite mass through the air with a monstrous Biel Toss!!
GAELIC TOSS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1mpGRPthwU
Clearing almost the entire length of the ring, Sinclair came back to earth with a crash, releasing a pained yelp as she tried her best to go limp and ride the momentum. Ride it she did, the plywood flexing beneath her athletic frame, sending shockwaves through her small body that bounced her back up onto her knees in a less than pleasant fashion, Sammie slumping forwards and wrapping her arms about the middle rope. She blinked a few times as she clung to it, her vision blurry as she gazed out at the FAWNatics, feeling lethargic as all the Brit wanted to do was lay down.
Sinclair shook her head, not allowing herself to do that, the EurAsia Champion summoning her reserves and puffing out her freckled cheeks as grabbed the top rope and began to haul herself to boot leather. She had just barely reached it when she heard the thundering of stampeding steps, the crowd warning her of impending danger and, Sammie being forever mindful of her faithful supporters, heeded their advice and then some.
As Flynn zeroed in on her blindside, preparing to behead her with a clothesline, she finally listened to her bodies demands and dropped back to earth. At least, she did so part way, still grasping the top rope she YANKED the rubber coated steel downwards by several inches and, as such, with Sinclair deftly avoiding Cleona’s collision, the Scottish Sociopath instead crashed into the coils that were no longer braced in the right position.
To the delight of those watching, Flynn had no chance of halting her own momentum, cursing the entire way as she was suddenly sent flipping ass over head over the top rope. On her descent to the outside of the ring, she smacked the apron with her shoulder with a wince inducing THUMP, which spiralled her over once again so that she landed on the padded concrete on her feet. She stumbled regardless, clutching her shoulder as her left hand felt numb.
Sammie, watching Cleona make her landing, shook her head a few times to clear free a few cobwebs before wincing, her freckled cheeks rosy as her ribs ached in protest. She inhaled deeply, willing herself to power on, a short nod of self-affirmation accompanying the EurAsia Champion springing back up onto her feet and her sudden dash in the opposite direction. This was no retreat however, far from it, the petite brunette flinging herself into the furthest set of set of ring ropes at great speed before rebounding back at even greater velocity. As she rapidly approached where she had started, Sinclair LAUNCHED her lithe physique into the air, the Upstart Supreme sailing clean over the top rope and flipping herself over, SLAMMING all one hundred and ten of her pounds into Cleona’s unsuspecting torso with a beautiful, Flying Senton!!
The FAWNatics erupted, filling the air with loud chants of…
“WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!! WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!! WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!!”
…as Flynn recoiled from the collision, stumbling backwards until the small of her back cracked against the barricades, the Scot wincing with a hiss as she dropped down to one knee.
In a wonderful display of agility, Sammie rode the rebound of her own, in flight senton to flip through the air and land on her feet, Sinclair spiralling about on her boot leather and thrusting both of her little fists up into the air. She released a shout, one filled with belief, and the FAWNatics answered with a collective yell of their own, lifting the rafters with their support.
Sinclair was light on her feet as she turned about…
…peepers of baby brown snapping open wide as Lady Lydia Lethbridge was charging her down on her six, ebony black cane clasped in both of her hands and the silver wolfs head set to SLAM into Sammie’s exposed temple…
…only for the Little Sparrow to prove herself wily in the face of sudden danger!! The brunette ducked low to avoid the very same, underhanded strike that had almost cost Sinclair her Title at Spring Break, the two passing by barely a hairs breath. Both young Brits spun on the spot sharply, fiercely competitive as Lethbridge prepared to swing again…
…only to be cut short by a blistering Sammie Kick!!
Unlike Cleona, Lydia went down like she’d been beheaded, poleaxed to the floor after the sole of her countrywoman’s boot SMACKED!! the underside of her jaw, damn near knocking her out and sending her to the barely padded floor. Somehow, the FAWNatics were even more elated, their heroine turning the tide against all comers and…
…Flynn cut short the party, arriving without warning and hitting like a hurricane, her thick, right arm extended and catching Sammie across her slim shoulders with a BRUTAL clothesline!! Sinclair was ripped off her feet, sent tumbling backwards as her stems whipped up into the air, the young woman joining Lethbridge on the barely padded concrete with a harsh thump across the back of her head and shoulders.
Sammie flopped out in a stunned heap, her expression woozy as Cleona towered over her, flexing the fingers of her left hand to get some blood back, the Scot frustratingly calm in the face of all of this activity. She reached down, the Celtic Constrictor peeling the remains of her fellow Brit off the concrete, grabbing her by the base of her neck and one arm before she pivoted and THREW Sinclair into a mad dash via an Irish Whip!!
She did not have to go far, Sinclair’s lithe stems giving out, but not quite before she reached her unwanted target, Cleona providing her with enough forced momentum to turn about and SLAM back first into the waiting and unyielding Steel Steps!! The CLANG!! filled the arena and Sammie released a pained yelp, short and heart breaking as she slumped into a heap. Sitting became her default setting, her back braced up against the pitiless furniture, the breathing of the People’s Princess shallowing.
Cleona lined her up, calmly leaning forwards into a crouch as she measured the distance, judging her moment before she powered herself forwards into a run. In no time at all, she zeroed in on Sinclair and…
…Sammie did what currently came easiest, slumping over onto her side and, for the most part, momentarily disappearing beneath the apron. Only realising that her target was no longer there when it was already too late, Flynn attempted to slam on the brakes, but to no avail, her knee SLAMMING into the steps instead of her much softer adversary!!
Cleona yelled, spiralling away from the disastrous collision and hopping for several, agonised steps, her right leg almost useless as she braced herself against the ringside to retain what was left of her footing.
Meanwhile, Sammie, given a chance to regain a breather, popped back out from beneath the apron, the petite brunette shaking her head to stop her ears from rings. She had no weapon in hand, as some people expected, the thought perhaps not even occurring to her whilst she had been under the ring. After a few calming breaths, however, Sinclair shook her head again before looking backwards over her shoulder at the unsteady Flynn, the button nose of the EurAsia Champion scrunching up in both dander and determination.
She turned herself around, braced both of her palms against the edge of the steel steps and, with a deep inhale, she released a (adorable) shout as she CHARGED forwards, driving the metallic furniture before like a snow plough into the back of the Scot’s knees!! With a CLANG accompanying Flynn’s shout, the Redheaded Reaper was FINALLY upended off her feet and sent tumbling to the floor!!
With the Challenger finally down, the FAWNatics were elated, bringing their hands together in support as they dared to believe that their heroine might actually pull it off.
Cleona was cursing, muttering the Gaelic words out through her clenched teeth as she clutched at her lower limbs, rolling over on her side and displaying zero desire to get back up. Sammie briefly considered charging back in, her whole-body aching, but she quashed down that instinct, stepping back a few strides to allow the Official to begin counting.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!
Flynn slapped one of her palms down on the barely padded concrete, psyching herself up as she began standing, reaching for a hold of the apron to haul herself up.
FIVE!!!!!
SIX!!!!!!
It was slow going, but she was determined, the Gaelic Goddess forcing her lower limbs to obey her demands.
SEVEN!!!!!!!
“Ye cheeky bytch,” Flynn smirked ruefully, looking the most engaged she had done so all evening. With a shove away from the apron, Cleona returned to her feet, unsteady to be certain, but most defiantly vertical. The crowd were disappointed, but there was only one thing for it.
Without hesitation, Sammie threw herself into a charge, sprinting alongside the ring and, using the steel steps as a ramped, the Upstart Supreme positively LAUNCHED herself into the air, every inch a Champion as she returned to the fray with a beautiful Cross Body Splash…
…before Flynn caught her clean out of the sky!!
From elation to despair, the FAWNatics could only watch on as their heroine was snatched from the heavens, the People’s Princess swung bodily up and over in a Cross-Body Press before she was SLAMMED!! into the barely padded concrete!! Crushed between her opponent and the very floor itself, Sinclair’s athletic stems kicked out with a spasm before they flopped out into a wide V, the young Brit groaning as her body quivered.
She tried to get up, she really did, but almost as soon as Sammie lifted one slim shoulder, she slumped back down in a heap, her expression mournful and her lithe body spent.
Just about the only person in the whole arena pleased to see it was Lydia Lethbridge, the Princess of Privilege seething as she rubbed ruefully at her jaw. “Finisher it!” she demanded; her mood significantly soured after being kicked in the face twice in two PPV’s hard enough to knock her unconscious. “The table,” she insisted, jabbing her ebony cane in the direction of the announcers. “Use the table!!”
Cleona, detached, looked between where her Ladyship was pointing and the downed Sinclair, shrugging after a moment and peeling the Upstart Supreme off the deck. It was short journey to the commenters desk, the FAWNatics protesting the entire way, and the duo sat behind it quickly scrambled towards safety, not wanting any part of what was about to unfold. Unceremoniously, Flynn BOUNCED Sammie’s already pacified frame head first off the robust table, knocking the young woman well and truly senseless.
Sinclair didn’t move, her upper body left to slump forwards over the top of the desk, her legs supporting exactly none of her weight as Cleona, not exactly gracefully climbed her way up onto the furniture. With her now stood atop it, the protests of the crowd grew even louder, intensifying as she looked around the arena and took in their reaction. The Scottish Sociopath looked to Lethbridge; Lydia nodded in approval.
Without another word, Cleona stepped forwards, leapt, threw her legs out in front of her…
…and there was no avoiding the Leg Drop this time, Sammie a sitting duck as all one hundred and fifty-two pounds of Celtic Constrictor CRASHED!! down atop the back of the young woman’s back, head and shoulders!! Compounding the devastation, the Commentators Table collapsed, giving out beneath the hellacious Leg Drop and BURIED the People’s Princess beneath a mountain of debris.
The FAWNatics gasped, many looked away and, between the wreckage and Flynn, there was not much that could be still seen of the EurAsian Champion, one of the brunette’s lithe stems sticking out in view of the hard camera, kicking out with erratic twitches.
Understandably concerned, the Official was desperate to begin counting.
“No!” Lethbridge insisted, marching into the chaos as Cleona was dragging herself out of the wreckage, having endured no soft landing herself. “Inside the ring!” she demanded, jabbing her cane in the direction of the squared circle. “Where everyone can see, I want everyone to see!!”
Again, with parts of her anatomy bruised that should never be bruised, Flynn looked between her Ladyship and then what remained of Sinclair. Sammie wasn’t moving, it was doubtful she was even still awake. Cleona shrugged, getting back down to business. Like a cavewoman, she grabbed Sinclair by her ankle and began to drag her senseless remains from the debris, pulling her across the concrete before reaching the ring.
As Flynn saw about deadlifting the flaccid remained of the Perfectly Petite Brit back into the squared circle, shovelling her under the bottom rope, Lethbridge was pursuing her own task. Threatening to utilise her cane as a weapon, she BERATED the Timekeeper until he surrendered ten pounds of gold and leather strap into her possession, the brunette snatching from him the highly coveted, EurAsian Championship as though her Firm Right Hand had already won it.
The crowd didn’t like where this was going, neither did the Official but all were powerless to stop it.
Lethbridge slid into the ring, striding imperiously to its centre where Flynn had ultimately deposited Sinclair on the mat, the Upstart Supreme still unresponsive as she lay on her front. With a great deal of smugness, Lydia got down to one knee and lifted Sammie’s noggin slightly, the young woman oblivious to her impending peril, and slid the EurAsia down onto the mat. Lowering Sinclair’s head, the young woman’s cheek came to rest of her own, cherished possession, freckled features wincing just slightly before settling.
With Lethbridge backing away, Cleona knew what she wanted, the Redheaded Reaper striding forwards, leaping, throwing her legs out in front of her…
…and all but FLATTENING Sammie’s poor noggin between a significant amount of force and her own, EurAsia Gold!! Sinclair’s stems bucked up into the air with a violent spasm before flopping out on the deck, her firm thighs twitching as her Title Reign slipped away.
The Official began counting the moment Cleona dismounted.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!
FIVE!!!!!
SIX!!!!!!
SEVEN!!!!!!!
EIGHT!!!!!!!!
NINE!!!!!!!!!
TEN!!!!!!!!!!
The bell rang, and the FAWNatics were forced to accept the inevitable, the Announcer moving in to make it official before her Ladyship ruthlessly cut him out.
She was delighted, the aristocratic Brit, filled with cruel satisfaction as she reached out and tugged the EurAsia Title free from beneath Sammie’s unconscious features, stripping it from her possession and taking it for her own. After staring at the gleaming faceplate for several seconds with dark, covetous eyes, she slipped the ten pounds of gold and leather strap up and over her own shoulder as if it were she who was the new champion.
Flynn did not protest.
If anything, with the whole thing concluded and the People’s Princess an unconscious heap, the Gaelic Goddess looked more bored now than ever, a far cry from what one would expect from a young woman who had just achieved a benchmark in their career.
“Halfwits and Simpletons,” Lydia breached, grinning and displaying her sharpest teeth, a microphone in hand so that no-one could ignore her. “As I foretold, I present to you the NEW EurAsia Champion, my Firm Right Hand, CLEONA! FLYNN!!”
Straightening her shoulders, the Redheaded Reaper stood tall, the remains of her beloved predecessor splayed out on the mat behind her.
Cleona Flynn.
Last Women Standing.
Everything on the line.
Sammie exhaled deeply and opened her eyes, hopping from one foot to the other until a helpful stagehand gave the signal, Sinclair nodding in return before stepping forwards, just as…
FEEL INVINCIBLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gco_SAvHVSM
…erupted from the loud speakers, the FAWNatics officially losing their collective sh*t upon the arrival of the People’s Princess. She smiled, bright and true, throwing her arms up into the air as she felt heady from the experience, FAWN’s Favourite Girl Next Door standing in at five foot four and one hundred ten pounds of instant heartbreak.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
As caught up in the moment as her supporters, Sammie wiggled her fingers before bringing her hands together, the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance following her lead as they collectively clapped…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…before she pointed dramatically towards the squared circle, pyrokinetics exploding to either side of her to add an exclamation point to her declaration!!
With the crowd now suitably in full voice, the Upstart Supreme shot off down the ramp at a spirited pace, darting left and then right at irregular intervals, intuition guiding her to those in most need of a little attention, delivering short hugs to make their collective evenings.
Soon enough, the squared circle was a mere few yards before her, and the EurAsia Champion accelerated at a sprint, leaping the final distance and springing her lithe physique up onto the apron. Riding the momentum, she grasped the top ropes and cleanly vaulted over the uppermost coil, landing lightly before she marched to centre ring.
There she met William, her Official for the evening, a gentleman with greying hair and, one could argue, had far more years behind him than he still had in front. Sammie liked him a great deal, he had officiated several of her father’s matches in years gone by, and a fairer hand she could not ask for. That affection went both ways, and his concern could not be hidden from her perception.
“It’s fine,” Sinclair insisted, the Upstart Supreme flashing him her most assuring smile. “I’ve fought bigger.”
“Oh,” William nodded, performing his due diligence with a pat down, searching for concealed weapons he knew damn well wouldn’t be there. “How did that go?”
Sammie’s smile faltered only slightly, her memory returning to times past. “Not so great,” she admitted, stealing her resolve with a shrug. “But that was then, and this now. Flynn has no idea of what’s about to hit her.”
William nodded in agreement and, somewhat reluctantly, Sinclair unbuckled the EurAsia Title free from about her toned tummy and handed the strap over for to him for safe keeping, vowing to herself then and there to win it back by the end of the evening.
“I’ve got this,” she reaffirmed, the People’s Princess finding her corner, preparing herself for the next storm to arrive, keeping herself limber. “You’ve had your fun Cleona, now it’s my turn.”
It felt like a lifetime, but in reality, it was but a few moments before…
BAD THINGS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA
…began blaring from the loud speakers, and a curvy brunette emerged from behind the curtains when she was good and ready, strolling out into view and coming to a full stop at centre stage. In one hand, Lady Lydia Lethbridge brandished an elegantly crafted, gleaming, ebony cane, one tipped with a beautifully sculptured, silver forged wolfs head, glowering as though it had picked up the scent of blood. She planted it in the ground before her, clasping it imperiously with both palms, tipping up her chin up just so as she looked to the left with faint disregard, before offering the right the very same disdain, her dark, covetous eyes ultimately coming to a rest on the ring before her.
LADY LYDIA LETHBRIDGE
Standing in at five foot two and one hundred seventeen pounds, she flashed a grin of ill intent, one filled to overflowing with smug satisfaction as, from places best left unknown, she procured a microphone. Remaining on the stage, she brought the stick up to her lips, her big, covetous eyes unwavering from the Upstart Supreme in the ring.
“Halfwits and Simpletons,” she began, her smirk widening into a near feral grin, filled with barely restrained hunger, enduring the cascade of boos being rained down upon her as though they did not exist. “As forewarned, allow me to introduce your NEXT EurAsia Champion, my firm, right hand, CLEONA! FLYNN!!”
KILLER INSIDE OF ME
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-ykAnJRPiw
…emerged from the sound system and, all too soon, the Celtic Constrictor arrived on the stage.
CLEONA FLYNN
She didn’t pause as she made her presence known, standing in at five foot six and one hundred fifty two pounds, the Redheaded Reaper cut an imposing silhouette as she marched down the ramp, not batting an eyelid as she passed her Ladyship on the stage and cut the most direct route possible to the squared circle. There was no ceremony in her stride as she zeroed in on her objective, stalwart and unflinching in the face of, what should be, the biggest night of her career, Cleona declaring neither fanfare nor boasts.
Lydia fell into step a few paces behind her hired help, setting off down the ramp at a stately pace. As she sauntered towards the squared circle, she thrust the head of her cane in the direction of those in the crowd that especially displeased her. There was no shortage of candidates, the FAWNatics not shy in showering her with scorn, and she marked out each and every one to be disciplined later.
With only a few yards separating Flynn from the ring, Cleona picked up the pace, the Scottish Sociopath leaping up onto the apron and, as if she were not one of the stars of the evening, she sat down on the middle rope and lifted the top, waiting patiently for Lethbridge to join her.
Unhurried, Lydia ascended the steel steps, the Princess of Privilege ducking neatly through the hole provided by her ‘firm right hand’, displaying not even a hint of appreciation before she sauntered towards centre ring, imperiously planting her ebony cane into the canvas before her. She smirked, wicked to the core.
Flynn followed her in a moment later, the Redheaded Reaper seemingly in no further hurry, exhaling deeply before rolling her shoulders, shrugging off her leather jacket with the words ‘GET WRECKED’ stencilled across the back. To the surprise of the FAWNatics Cleona looked, if anything, faintly bored with the unfolding drama, far from being a young woman on the cusp of achieving considerable success.
Sammie, unsure of where this was going, refused to be bullied by the Commonwealth as she strode forwards, the EurAsia Champion meeting Lydia at centre ring.
“Sinclair,” Lethbridge purred, her wide grin displaying her sharpest teeth, the tips of her fingers drumming the silver wolf head of her cane.
“Lydia,” Sammie nodded back, noticeably more cordial as the two Brits stood eye to eye.
“There is no need for matters to escalate,” Lethbridge reasoned, although her tone betrayed her condescension. “Feel free to concede.”
The People’s Princess didn’t miss a beat, saying all she needed to by breaking eye contact with Lydia, and instead locked stares with the only other woman in the ring that actually mattered to her tonight. “Feel free to get out of the way.”
Lethbridge tutted, as though she were disappointed, shaking her head before licking her top lip. Turning away, she marched past Cleona, pausing only to whisper some manner of command to the Scot before departing the squared circle. Flynn nodded before striding to centre ring, meeting Sammie there for the first time in scheduled contest. Sinclair met her gaze, having to look up slightly to do so. It was not the two inches that separated them in height that Sammie found daunting, it was the forty-two extra pounds of muscle that she found concerning.
Sinclair hid it well, she would overcome.
It was in her blood to do so.
“Alright, ladies,” William appeared beside them, preparing to bring the match to a start. “You should both know how this goes, but just to be clear, this is Last Woman Standing. No pin falls, no submissions, no count outs, no disqualifications, no rope breaks. The match continues until one or both of you cannot answer my count of ten. If I start counting, neither of you is to engage. Understood?”
Sammie nodded.
Cleona yawned.
“Right then,” the official sighed, standing back and coaxing the two young women do likewise.
Both Sinclair and Flynn retreated a half pace.
William called for the bell.
Cleona strode forwards…
…and Sinclair met her at centre ring, the People’s Princess springing into action as she braced her frame and then SNAPPED her right, athletic stem high up into the air like a bolt of lightning!! With an audible CRACK she slammed her boot into the underside of Cleona’s jaw, NAILING!! the Scottish Sociopath with a beautiful Sammie Kick!!
Flynn’s head whipped back sharply from the recoil, spit flying out from between her clenched teeth as the FAWNatics ERUPTED in shared joy, the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance making themselves heard as their heroine struck. Cleona stumbled, retreating one step and then two, an all too familiar shimmy in her knees before she…
…didn’t tumble over!!
Instead, she folded forwards, clutching her jaw and shaking her head as she expelled a string curses in Gaelic dialect, each one sounding more irritated than the one before. The arena fell into silence as Flynn didn’t hit the deck as she was supposed to, the Celtic Constrictor instead shrugging off the match ending strike without even losing her footing.
Even Sammie was surprised, the EurAsia Champion having upended dozens of opponents the world over with that very same blow, and she had to recover quickly to prevent a fresh flutter of nerves from becoming visible on her features.
“F*ck a duck,” Cleona complained, flexing her jaw after she stood up straight, repositioning herself opposite Sinclair with perhaps a tiny bit more respect. “That actually hurt. Enough of that now, I don’t have all day.”
Flynn advanced, flexing her sore cheek, threatening to shorten the distance between herself and Sammie before the perfectly petite Brit had time to recover her composure. No such luck for Cleona on that front however, the Sinclair Sisters made of sterner stuff that they were given credit for, the smaller brunette darting forwards as well in time with her Challenger.
The Upstart Supreme had no desire to lock up however, refusing to play to her opponent’s own strengths, and she instead ducked low and darted between Flynn’s steel corded limbs. She shot on by, speed her greatest ally in this contest, hurtling her beautifully sinewy physique towards the opposite sent of ring ropes. She turned about before throwing herself against them, feeling them pull taunt and prepared to be catapulted back across the ring at even greater velocity…
…only for Lydia Lethbridge, still outside the ring where she intended to remain for the duration, grabbed her by the ankle and prevented any opportunity to build momentum!
The FAWNatics cried foul as, caught unawares, Sammie stumbled forwards, a surprised shout escaping her lips as her sprint became a stumble. Unsteady, she was easy prey for Flynn, who scooped the People’s Princess up into her arms and muscled her up and across her shoulders as though she weighed nothing. With her stunning cargo strapped in place by way of Fireman’s Carry, Cleona assured that her palms were secured across the nape of Sinclair’s neck and about one of her firm thighs, no-where for her foe to go as the Redheaded Reaper THREW herself backwards for an already dreaded, Celtic Drop!!
CELTIC DROP: @0:15 Onwards
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xG3K3agXbG4
With a loud and heartfelt GROAN, Sammie found herself flattened between the weight of Flynn’s rigid shoulders and the barely yielding plywood, SLAMMED into the mat with enough force to kick her stems up into the air before they flopped out in a heap. She trembled as she rolled over onto her front, the toe of one of her boots tapping a distress call down onto the canvas as Cleona, none the worse for wear, powered her way back up to standing.
Flynn wasted no time in turning about, just as she made equally little fanfare as she leapt into the air and sat out, looking for all the world as though she were just going through the motions as she prepared to land a Leg Drop!! The last time she had connected at March to War, Sammie had not gotten back up under her own power, and tonight that would prove disastrous as gravity brought her swiftly back to earth…
…Sinclair’s memory, however, was more than long enough to remember where this was going and, with a stubborn streak a mile wide, the minatures Brit rolled her way to safety, just barely avoiding being flattened beneath one hundred and fifty-two pounds of body weight.
With her landing pad no longer being in the shape of a small person, Cleona released a loud, single syllable curse as her round buttocks instead connected with the canvas! The loud THUMP and sharp recoil bounced her back up to one knee, cradling her tail bone as Lydia, at ringside, pointed her cane at the Official as if she had something valid to protest.
Sammie was back up onto her feet first, Babyface resilient as, with a neat spiral, she returned to boot leather a fraction of a second before an irate Flynn could find hers. Sinclair didn’t stay on them for long, the athletic Brit spinning about and throwing herself into the air, kicking out with a delightful Drop Kick that NAILED Cleona clean against her torso!
With a sharp exhale, Cleona back peddled two full steps before regaining her balance, all in the time it took for Sammie to return to earth with a controlled bump. It took Sinclair exactly zero seconds to realise that her opponent was still upright and, not pausing, she was back on her feet in a flash. Again, she advanced, and again she launched into a second, beautiful Drop Kick, this time accompanied by a (not as fearsome as she imagined) war cry as she NAILED!! Flynn with the underside of her boot leather even harder than before!!
Flynn grunted, continuing her enforced retreat before she dropped down to one knee!! Still, she would not tumble to the canvas, but Sammie was making progress. Riding her momentum, Sinclair scrunched her button nose with determination and rolled herself backwards onto her shoulders before, with a cheer from the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance, the People’s Princess dramatically powered back up to her feet by way of FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up!!
Not hesitating for a second, she darted forwards at a sprint, spotting her foe dropped down to penitent position, gauging the distance before taking to the air, SLAMMING her weaponised knee into Cleona’s temple with a stunning Golden Wizard!!
GOLDEN WIZARD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiHreVqEhsY
The WHACK!! echoed out across the front rows and, as Sammie sailed past, the Scottish Sociopath was ROCKED back onto her haunches. The FAWNatics held their collective breath as the hardbody Brit teetered further and further to the side… until a low growl pushed out from her lips and she stubbornly straightened herself back up to kneeling, preventing herself from falling.
Hiding her disbelief well, Sinclair pushed herself back off her pert booty, setting her sights on getting right back to work. Setting herself, Sammie lined up her target, puffing out her freckled cheeks before, to the delight of the crowd watching, she snapped out her right, athletic stem to deliver a sweet as you like Sammie Kick!! One that would surely do the trick this time…
…only for Cleona to catch the coveted limb a good inch from her features!! Holding Sinclair’s ankle in both hands, Flynn shook her head slowly before blinking a few times to clear the cobwebs. Her senses so gathered, she glowered at Sammie in mild irritation.
“What did I say?” the Scot questioned as she pushed herself back up to standing, undoing all of Sinclair’s hard work as she kept a hold of her foes leg. Sammie was hopping on her free stem, searching for a way out, but when Cleona yanked hard on her new possession, the smaller young woman was forced to stumble forwards and tumble right into her grasp. “I said less of that!”
Long before Sinclair could formulate an escape, the Celtic Constrictor wrapped both of her strong arms about the slim brunettes toned waist, and pulled the EurAsia Champion in tight into a FIERCE Bearhug! Sammie GASPED as Cleona pulsed her biceps, the very first constriction winding the petite Brit and popping the brunette up onto the tippiest of her tip toes, Champion and Challenger now eye to eye as the former was well and truly captured by the latter, exactly where she didn’t want to be.
The second pulse from Flynn’s strong biceps was accompanied by a forceful GROWL from the Redheaded Reaper and a mournful GROAN from the EurAsia Champion, the stiff spasm that ran the length of Sinclair’s stems jerking her clean off her boot leather as her athletic legs involuntarily wrapped up and around her Challenger’s wider hips. With her thighs now open wide about Cleona’s probing pelvis, Sammie bit down on her bottom lip, closing her pretty peepers as she shoved her palms down on her foes encircling coils.
There was no give to be found in those steel corded pythons, despite Sammie’s best efforts to pry her way loose, her lips parting into a wide, shocked GASP as, Flynn tightened her grip even further, Sinclair’s pert bosom hiking in response to the sudden increase in pressure. With a long and plaintive moan, the petitely packaged Brit pushed back on Cleona’s rigid shoulders, but a third sharp tightening of limbs robbed the Upstart Supreme of even that token resistance, the young woman’s arms slowly sliding down to sway at her sides as her head began to bob idly on her slim shoulders.
With her fellow Brit looking increasingly lethargic, her breath coming out in short grunts, pretty peepers fluttering to half lidded, Cleona turned on the spot slowly, displaying to the world what would, on any other evening, be all but an assured victory. Just in case that the implications were not clear to all of those watching, Lethbridge was regally applauding outside the ring, showboating to the hard camera as Sinclair was on the verge of passing out.
As Flynn continued to work her smaller foe over in stages, squeezing just a little bit more every few heartbeats, Sammie was soon hanging limp in her grasp, slumped forwards against her opponent and moving only when she was prompted, constricted into submission in shockingly short order. The grunt that Cleona released did not sound impressed.
“All that talk,” Flynn exhaled, looking disappointed, “I expected you to last longer.”
“Ms. Flynn,” the Official stepped in with a polite reminder, growing increasingly concerned over Sammie’s increasingly slack frame. “Unless you let go, I can’t start counting.”
“Oh,” Cleona shrugged, inadvertently bobbing Sinclair’s head up and down as she did so. “I know.”
Without further word, Flynn picked out the far corner and barrelled into a sudden charge, closing the distance with frightening speed before she SLAMMED the People’s Princess back first into the turnbuckles!! Sammie all but howled in response, the sudden, sharp pain that wracked her smaller body doing a great deal to snap her out of her enforced stupor, the young woman grimacing as she turned rigid in her opponents grasp.
Cleona released her ensnared cargo, dropping Sinclair back down to her own boot leather and, for just a moment, it looked like she might even remain standing. Her athletic thighs, however, had other ideas entirely as, with a quiver, they immediately gave out, Sammie slumping to a seat in the corner, her little, taunt booty coming down to the canvas with a small bump. Greedily, she inhaled deep breaths, her lungs filling back up with much needed oxygen as her peepers began to flutter open.
She needed a great deal more time to fully recover, but Flynn wasn’t about to provide, grasping the top ropes to either side the of the uppermost turnbuckle, the Scottish Sociopath reared back before driving back forwards and SLAMMING her boot down HARD onto Sinclair’s unprotected torso. With GRUNTS and GROANS, Sammie bucked but was unable to resist as Cleona followed up her first stomp with a further two more, driving the brunette deeper into the mat and leaving her in a stupor.
Satisfied that Sinclair had been suitably plastered flat against the deck, the girl’s arms and legs spread out in a starfish, Flynn hauled herself up to the second turnbuckle. The FAWNatics, already despairing current events, begged for Cleona to not follow through, but evidently, she was not listening as, after pushing off from her perch on the ropes, the Celtic Constrictor was airborne for scarcely a second before she plummeted back down to earth.
Gravity had apparently decided to be a bytch to Sammie tonight as it dragged all one hundred and fifty-two pounds of her Challenger to the ground at a great deal of speed, almost every single bit of the Scots weight DROPPING down atop Sinclair’s petite body with a BANG!! Jolted with a sharp spasm, the EurAsia Champions stems kicked up almost violently into the air before they flopped back down on the matt, spreading out in a wide V with her right boot twitching.
Sammie, otherwise, did not move, her expression vacant as Cleona remained sat atop her, looking down at the freckled Brit with visible detachment, Sinclair showing no signs of resistance. It was not lost on the People that their Princess was unmoving on the canvas, her shoulders pinned to the mat well past a three count.
“Cleona,” William once again felt the need to step in. “I can’t start counting until you…”
“I know!” Cleona figuratively swatted him away. “I’m not thick, give me a minute,” she insisted, still gazing down at Sammie’s glazed features, as though she were hypnotised by the sight. She grunted after a little longer, hauling herself up off Sinclair and returning to boot leather, the young woman she had squashed beneath her inhaling a deep, desperate breath the moment her lungs were no longer being crushed.
William wasted no time in stepping in and beginning his count, feeling somehow traitorous for hoping that the match would end here.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!
FIVE!!!!!
With a visible grimace, Sammie winced and released a long groooooooan, forcibly rolling herself over as she exhaled deeply, grasping a hold of the bottom rope before she allowed herself to relax slightly. Following a deep, pained sigh, Sinclair fluttered her pretty peppers open and, with a scrunch of her button nose, she began to drag herself across the canvas, managing to reach the middle rope as the Official likewise reached…
SIX!!!!!!
SEVEN!!!!!!!
…and, by the time he reached…
EIGHT!!!!!!!!
…Sammie grabbed the top rope and HAULED herself back up to vertical with a defiant shout, the Upstart Supreme beating the ten count to the relief of the FAWNatics. That, unfortunately, was also all of the incentive that Cleona required to zero back in, the Redheaded Reaper stalking her smaller foe down with single minded intent.
“Should have stayed down,” Flynn explained calmly, her demeanour seeming to be more put out than angry, grabbing Sinclair by her throat before the brunette had even pushed herself out of the ropes. “Was trying to do you a favour.” With Sammie just barely on her feet, Cleona shoved her other hand under the girl’s shoulder before, with a sharp pivot, she released a loud shout and hauled the People’s Princess clean up off the canvas, hurling her lightweight, petite mass through the air with a monstrous Biel Toss!!
GAELIC TOSS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1mpGRPthwU
Clearing almost the entire length of the ring, Sinclair came back to earth with a crash, releasing a pained yelp as she tried her best to go limp and ride the momentum. Ride it she did, the plywood flexing beneath her athletic frame, sending shockwaves through her small body that bounced her back up onto her knees in a less than pleasant fashion, Sammie slumping forwards and wrapping her arms about the middle rope. She blinked a few times as she clung to it, her vision blurry as she gazed out at the FAWNatics, feeling lethargic as all the Brit wanted to do was lay down.
Sinclair shook her head, not allowing herself to do that, the EurAsia Champion summoning her reserves and puffing out her freckled cheeks as grabbed the top rope and began to haul herself to boot leather. She had just barely reached it when she heard the thundering of stampeding steps, the crowd warning her of impending danger and, Sammie being forever mindful of her faithful supporters, heeded their advice and then some.
As Flynn zeroed in on her blindside, preparing to behead her with a clothesline, she finally listened to her bodies demands and dropped back to earth. At least, she did so part way, still grasping the top rope she YANKED the rubber coated steel downwards by several inches and, as such, with Sinclair deftly avoiding Cleona’s collision, the Scottish Sociopath instead crashed into the coils that were no longer braced in the right position.
To the delight of those watching, Flynn had no chance of halting her own momentum, cursing the entire way as she was suddenly sent flipping ass over head over the top rope. On her descent to the outside of the ring, she smacked the apron with her shoulder with a wince inducing THUMP, which spiralled her over once again so that she landed on the padded concrete on her feet. She stumbled regardless, clutching her shoulder as her left hand felt numb.
Sammie, watching Cleona make her landing, shook her head a few times to clear free a few cobwebs before wincing, her freckled cheeks rosy as her ribs ached in protest. She inhaled deeply, willing herself to power on, a short nod of self-affirmation accompanying the EurAsia Champion springing back up onto her feet and her sudden dash in the opposite direction. This was no retreat however, far from it, the petite brunette flinging herself into the furthest set of set of ring ropes at great speed before rebounding back at even greater velocity. As she rapidly approached where she had started, Sinclair LAUNCHED her lithe physique into the air, the Upstart Supreme sailing clean over the top rope and flipping herself over, SLAMMING all one hundred and ten of her pounds into Cleona’s unsuspecting torso with a beautiful, Flying Senton!!
The FAWNatics erupted, filling the air with loud chants of…
“WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!! WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!! WORLDS! BEST!! BRIT!!!”
…as Flynn recoiled from the collision, stumbling backwards until the small of her back cracked against the barricades, the Scot wincing with a hiss as she dropped down to one knee.
In a wonderful display of agility, Sammie rode the rebound of her own, in flight senton to flip through the air and land on her feet, Sinclair spiralling about on her boot leather and thrusting both of her little fists up into the air. She released a shout, one filled with belief, and the FAWNatics answered with a collective yell of their own, lifting the rafters with their support.
Sinclair was light on her feet as she turned about…
…peepers of baby brown snapping open wide as Lady Lydia Lethbridge was charging her down on her six, ebony black cane clasped in both of her hands and the silver wolfs head set to SLAM into Sammie’s exposed temple…
…only for the Little Sparrow to prove herself wily in the face of sudden danger!! The brunette ducked low to avoid the very same, underhanded strike that had almost cost Sinclair her Title at Spring Break, the two passing by barely a hairs breath. Both young Brits spun on the spot sharply, fiercely competitive as Lethbridge prepared to swing again…
…only to be cut short by a blistering Sammie Kick!!
Unlike Cleona, Lydia went down like she’d been beheaded, poleaxed to the floor after the sole of her countrywoman’s boot SMACKED!! the underside of her jaw, damn near knocking her out and sending her to the barely padded floor. Somehow, the FAWNatics were even more elated, their heroine turning the tide against all comers and…
…Flynn cut short the party, arriving without warning and hitting like a hurricane, her thick, right arm extended and catching Sammie across her slim shoulders with a BRUTAL clothesline!! Sinclair was ripped off her feet, sent tumbling backwards as her stems whipped up into the air, the young woman joining Lethbridge on the barely padded concrete with a harsh thump across the back of her head and shoulders.
Sammie flopped out in a stunned heap, her expression woozy as Cleona towered over her, flexing the fingers of her left hand to get some blood back, the Scot frustratingly calm in the face of all of this activity. She reached down, the Celtic Constrictor peeling the remains of her fellow Brit off the concrete, grabbing her by the base of her neck and one arm before she pivoted and THREW Sinclair into a mad dash via an Irish Whip!!
She did not have to go far, Sinclair’s lithe stems giving out, but not quite before she reached her unwanted target, Cleona providing her with enough forced momentum to turn about and SLAM back first into the waiting and unyielding Steel Steps!! The CLANG!! filled the arena and Sammie released a pained yelp, short and heart breaking as she slumped into a heap. Sitting became her default setting, her back braced up against the pitiless furniture, the breathing of the People’s Princess shallowing.
Cleona lined her up, calmly leaning forwards into a crouch as she measured the distance, judging her moment before she powered herself forwards into a run. In no time at all, she zeroed in on Sinclair and…
…Sammie did what currently came easiest, slumping over onto her side and, for the most part, momentarily disappearing beneath the apron. Only realising that her target was no longer there when it was already too late, Flynn attempted to slam on the brakes, but to no avail, her knee SLAMMING into the steps instead of her much softer adversary!!
Cleona yelled, spiralling away from the disastrous collision and hopping for several, agonised steps, her right leg almost useless as she braced herself against the ringside to retain what was left of her footing.
Meanwhile, Sammie, given a chance to regain a breather, popped back out from beneath the apron, the petite brunette shaking her head to stop her ears from rings. She had no weapon in hand, as some people expected, the thought perhaps not even occurring to her whilst she had been under the ring. After a few calming breaths, however, Sinclair shook her head again before looking backwards over her shoulder at the unsteady Flynn, the button nose of the EurAsia Champion scrunching up in both dander and determination.
She turned herself around, braced both of her palms against the edge of the steel steps and, with a deep inhale, she released a (adorable) shout as she CHARGED forwards, driving the metallic furniture before like a snow plough into the back of the Scot’s knees!! With a CLANG accompanying Flynn’s shout, the Redheaded Reaper was FINALLY upended off her feet and sent tumbling to the floor!!
With the Challenger finally down, the FAWNatics were elated, bringing their hands together in support as they dared to believe that their heroine might actually pull it off.
Cleona was cursing, muttering the Gaelic words out through her clenched teeth as she clutched at her lower limbs, rolling over on her side and displaying zero desire to get back up. Sammie briefly considered charging back in, her whole-body aching, but she quashed down that instinct, stepping back a few strides to allow the Official to begin counting.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!
Flynn slapped one of her palms down on the barely padded concrete, psyching herself up as she began standing, reaching for a hold of the apron to haul herself up.
FIVE!!!!!
SIX!!!!!!
It was slow going, but she was determined, the Gaelic Goddess forcing her lower limbs to obey her demands.
SEVEN!!!!!!!
“Ye cheeky bytch,” Flynn smirked ruefully, looking the most engaged she had done so all evening. With a shove away from the apron, Cleona returned to her feet, unsteady to be certain, but most defiantly vertical. The crowd were disappointed, but there was only one thing for it.
Without hesitation, Sammie threw herself into a charge, sprinting alongside the ring and, using the steel steps as a ramped, the Upstart Supreme positively LAUNCHED herself into the air, every inch a Champion as she returned to the fray with a beautiful Cross Body Splash…
…before Flynn caught her clean out of the sky!!
From elation to despair, the FAWNatics could only watch on as their heroine was snatched from the heavens, the People’s Princess swung bodily up and over in a Cross-Body Press before she was SLAMMED!! into the barely padded concrete!! Crushed between her opponent and the very floor itself, Sinclair’s athletic stems kicked out with a spasm before they flopped out into a wide V, the young Brit groaning as her body quivered.
She tried to get up, she really did, but almost as soon as Sammie lifted one slim shoulder, she slumped back down in a heap, her expression mournful and her lithe body spent.
Just about the only person in the whole arena pleased to see it was Lydia Lethbridge, the Princess of Privilege seething as she rubbed ruefully at her jaw. “Finisher it!” she demanded; her mood significantly soured after being kicked in the face twice in two PPV’s hard enough to knock her unconscious. “The table,” she insisted, jabbing her ebony cane in the direction of the announcers. “Use the table!!”
Cleona, detached, looked between where her Ladyship was pointing and the downed Sinclair, shrugging after a moment and peeling the Upstart Supreme off the deck. It was short journey to the commenters desk, the FAWNatics protesting the entire way, and the duo sat behind it quickly scrambled towards safety, not wanting any part of what was about to unfold. Unceremoniously, Flynn BOUNCED Sammie’s already pacified frame head first off the robust table, knocking the young woman well and truly senseless.
Sinclair didn’t move, her upper body left to slump forwards over the top of the desk, her legs supporting exactly none of her weight as Cleona, not exactly gracefully climbed her way up onto the furniture. With her now stood atop it, the protests of the crowd grew even louder, intensifying as she looked around the arena and took in their reaction. The Scottish Sociopath looked to Lethbridge; Lydia nodded in approval.
Without another word, Cleona stepped forwards, leapt, threw her legs out in front of her…
…and there was no avoiding the Leg Drop this time, Sammie a sitting duck as all one hundred and fifty-two pounds of Celtic Constrictor CRASHED!! down atop the back of the young woman’s back, head and shoulders!! Compounding the devastation, the Commentators Table collapsed, giving out beneath the hellacious Leg Drop and BURIED the People’s Princess beneath a mountain of debris.
The FAWNatics gasped, many looked away and, between the wreckage and Flynn, there was not much that could be still seen of the EurAsian Champion, one of the brunette’s lithe stems sticking out in view of the hard camera, kicking out with erratic twitches.
Understandably concerned, the Official was desperate to begin counting.
“No!” Lethbridge insisted, marching into the chaos as Cleona was dragging herself out of the wreckage, having endured no soft landing herself. “Inside the ring!” she demanded, jabbing her cane in the direction of the squared circle. “Where everyone can see, I want everyone to see!!”
Again, with parts of her anatomy bruised that should never be bruised, Flynn looked between her Ladyship and then what remained of Sinclair. Sammie wasn’t moving, it was doubtful she was even still awake. Cleona shrugged, getting back down to business. Like a cavewoman, she grabbed Sinclair by her ankle and began to drag her senseless remains from the debris, pulling her across the concrete before reaching the ring.
As Flynn saw about deadlifting the flaccid remained of the Perfectly Petite Brit back into the squared circle, shovelling her under the bottom rope, Lethbridge was pursuing her own task. Threatening to utilise her cane as a weapon, she BERATED the Timekeeper until he surrendered ten pounds of gold and leather strap into her possession, the brunette snatching from him the highly coveted, EurAsian Championship as though her Firm Right Hand had already won it.
The crowd didn’t like where this was going, neither did the Official but all were powerless to stop it.
Lethbridge slid into the ring, striding imperiously to its centre where Flynn had ultimately deposited Sinclair on the mat, the Upstart Supreme still unresponsive as she lay on her front. With a great deal of smugness, Lydia got down to one knee and lifted Sammie’s noggin slightly, the young woman oblivious to her impending peril, and slid the EurAsia down onto the mat. Lowering Sinclair’s head, the young woman’s cheek came to rest of her own, cherished possession, freckled features wincing just slightly before settling.
With Lethbridge backing away, Cleona knew what she wanted, the Redheaded Reaper striding forwards, leaping, throwing her legs out in front of her…
…and all but FLATTENING Sammie’s poor noggin between a significant amount of force and her own, EurAsia Gold!! Sinclair’s stems bucked up into the air with a violent spasm before flopping out on the deck, her firm thighs twitching as her Title Reign slipped away.
The Official began counting the moment Cleona dismounted.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!
FIVE!!!!!
SIX!!!!!!
SEVEN!!!!!!!
EIGHT!!!!!!!!
NINE!!!!!!!!!
TEN!!!!!!!!!!
The bell rang, and the FAWNatics were forced to accept the inevitable, the Announcer moving in to make it official before her Ladyship ruthlessly cut him out.
She was delighted, the aristocratic Brit, filled with cruel satisfaction as she reached out and tugged the EurAsia Title free from beneath Sammie’s unconscious features, stripping it from her possession and taking it for her own. After staring at the gleaming faceplate for several seconds with dark, covetous eyes, she slipped the ten pounds of gold and leather strap up and over her own shoulder as if it were she who was the new champion.
Flynn did not protest.
If anything, with the whole thing concluded and the People’s Princess an unconscious heap, the Gaelic Goddess looked more bored now than ever, a far cry from what one would expect from a young woman who had just achieved a benchmark in their career.
“Halfwits and Simpletons,” Lydia breached, grinning and displaying her sharpest teeth, a microphone in hand so that no-one could ignore her. “As I foretold, I present to you the NEW EurAsia Champion, my Firm Right Hand, CLEONA! FLYNN!!”
Straightening her shoulders, the Redheaded Reaper stood tall, the remains of her beloved predecessor splayed out on the mat behind her.