Post by EmmaWoods007 on Aug 9, 2020 14:06:05 GMT
ALISON ATLANTIC Vs. ISABELLA KANE
With the Main Event fast approaching, the FAWNatics waited with baited breath until…
GIANTS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gc6QsGmgg00
…burst into life over the loud speakers. Mere moments later, a single spotlight shone down and silhouetted the sleek, well-crafted physique of the All-American Athlete, the Patriot Princess standing with her palms clasped together above her head before she thrust out her hands out wide, pointing to both sides of the arena as the lyrics…
“I’m gonna SLAY SOME GIANTS!!’
…boomed out over the sound system. An explosion of pyrokinetics accompanied her salute to the FAWNatics, and they responded to Alison Atlantic in kind, welcoming the return of the former, G.B.W Champion both back to American soil, and their promotion. Returning to the ranks after a few years of seasoning, the Lean Lioness began to stride down to the squared circle with an assured swagger, the five foot seven, one hundred twenty-eight-pound Bendyback imperious in her manner and yet inviting in demeanour, her cool smile melting hearts whilst she remained in a world apart.
ALISON ATLANTIC
She was ethereal, forever just out of reach, a dream for the faithful and a kind word for the downtrodden.
With her eye on the prize, Alison ascended the steel steps and marched down the apron, wiping her feet before fluidly sliding into the ring between the top and middle ropes. Once inside the squared circle, she once again clasped her palms above her head before swiftly striking both of her arms out to the opposite sides of the arena, laying her claim to a new Kingdom before she turned slowly on the spot.
With her eyes coming to settle on the curtains, Atlantic withdrew a few steps and kept herself limber, standing tall and most certainly ready as she awaited her opponent.
She did not have to wait long, not with…
BAD CHILD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bb4YEp9pjO0
…bleeding from the speakers, the stage falling dark as did much of the arena.
A single trail of crimson appeared soon after, leading from the stage all the way to the squared circle, illuminated by a glow from up above and guiding the way. There was but one stalker of that path, and her name was Isabella Kane, her Ladyship the last of her dying line and the harbinger of dark times to come. With one, athletic leg sliding fluidly in front of the other, the Scarlet Princess glided to the ring akin to an aloof predator, dark eyes always searching and the twitch of her lips always cold. Five foot seven and one hundred thirty pounds, she was the sensual sadist, every inch of her alluring, and yet every bite deadly.
ISABELLA KANE
She paused at the threshold, turning her full attention to one member of the audience, the rowdy FAWNatics quickly shutting up and, beneath her piercing gaze, promptly sat down and silently promised to behave from now on. Satisfied that her point had been made, that she could cow the filthy masses with nary a word spoken, Kane ascended the steel steps with poise, gliding between the top and middle ropes to enter the ring, her temperature rising now that she was so close to inflicting violence.
The lights returned to normal and, finally, Isabella turned her cool gaze to her opponent.
“Oh my,” she positively purred, low and threatening, dark, couvertes eyes drinking in every inch of the subline athlete before her. Alison didn’t flinch, meeting Isabella’s stare without fear. “Have we been acquainted?” Kane queried, pacing across the ring and, raising her right, gloved hand, she ever to slightly traced the tip of her index finger along the gleaming curves of Atlantic shoulders as she slowly circled her upcoming foe.
Alison, whilst she did not pull away, remained poised none the less, her own emerald peepers tracking her opponent’s movements every, fluid step of the way.
“I think not,” Isabella concluded, coming to a stop only once she had committed every curve of her fresh adversary to memory, the tip of her finger pressed lightly atop the blonde’s heart. “I would recall such a tall glass of… sultry.”
Atlantic was unhurried as, in one fluid, measured motion, she slid Kane’s probing limb away from her largely bare torso, her eyes locking with Kane’s. “You can’t afford me.”
“Oh my,” Kane all but purred, withdrawing half a stride with a twitch of her lips, the glint of her eyes betraying the venom in her smile. “We are delicious, aren’t we?”
Alison didn’t take the bait, imperious in her own stature, the All-American Athlete indomitable before the Lithe Lady. Distance was created between them, eyes locked every step of the way, and as they gazed into one another’s souls, the FAWNatics anticipation grew by several decibels. Just as the crowd was surely about to pop, the Official called for the bell!!
Without further invitation, the two ladies of high society began to circle, their paces measured and assured as they sized one another up, an unspoken agreement leading to a swift advance which resulted in a collision at centre ring. With a duo of grunts, both Alison and Isabella writhed in a Collar and Elbow tie up, athletic limbs intertwined and searching for even a moments weakness. Still, their eyes remained locked and, just as it seemed their foreheads would come to touching, it was Kane who seized upon Atlantic’s first, fleeting moment of distraction.
With swift, whiplash movements, the Red Princess adjusted her posture to spin and twist around to Alison’s back, twisting the right arm of the Lean Lioness with her and contorting it into a stiff Hammerlock! Tucked in tight against her foes back, Isabella glided in even closer and, without warning, slipped her warm lips up tight against the curve of Atlantic’s long, cool neck, prickling the skin of the blonde’s tender throat.
Alison stiffened at the uninvited attentions, even more so than she did the sharp twist of her shoulder, the Patriot Princess surrendering a wince and involuntary exhale as she felt a devious, deliberate nip upon her quickening pulse. Atlantic recovered quickly, proud by nature, the All-American Athlete doubled down on her efforts to escape, this time seizing on Kane’s momentary distraction to twist and turn her way to freedom, swiftly pivoting herself about until she was now settled front to back with the unsated, Sensual Sadist!
Wasting no further time to apply her own hold, she wrapped both of her arms about the trim midriff of Isabella and, with technique that only the finest of schools could provide, she positively powered the other Bendyback within her grasp up and over with a beautiful German Suplex!!
GERMAN SUPLEX
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikC0fIBUck4
The back of Kane’s head and shoulders connected with the canvas with a THUD!!, rattling the plywood and setting the ring itself to shaking, momentum momentarily folding Murders Favoured Daughter into a tight package before she was released by Alison and flopped over onto her side.
Even rattled as she was, it would take more than a single collision with the canvas to keep the likes of Isabella glued to it, and so the aristocratic Brit quickly regained her bearings and rolled over onto her back. Before she could rise however, the FAWNatics were enrapt as the perfectly poised, elegantly curved, Patriot Princess placed a single boot down upon her adversary’s chest to imperiously press Kane back down flat against the canvas.
Once again, they gazed into each other’s eyes, the brunette flat against the mat and the blonde looking down, the Gladiatrix photographers scrambling to capture the moment for prosperity.
“Perhaps you’re hard of hearing,” Atlantic spoke without haste, the Lean Lioness cool and collected in her every, subtle mannerism, unflinching in the face of Isabelle’s insatiable impulses. “You can’t afford me.”
Kane didn’t blink, nor did she attempt to remove the single boot that had her planted to the deck, and yet she looked far from repentant in the face of reprimand. Instead, she felt her heart quicken, drinking in the commanding lioness before her, lips twitching with renewed desire as, for the Stalker of the Crimson Path, fascination became obsession…
Rendered momentarily breathless, Alison Atlantic was wedged in tight against one corner, the top turnbuckle digging in deep between her shoulder blades as her arms were pulled out and ensnared amongst the uppermost ropes. She grimaced for a moment, head swimming in a daze as Isabella Kane cupped a palm beneath the blonde’s chin and, with cool delight, cranked the other young women’s head back. Currently powerless to resist, Alison’s upper body followed suit, stiffening by the second as her spine was forcibly curled the wrong way over the top turnbuckle and, in turn, the rest of her lithe physique was stretched to its limit. Her bare, trim tummy trembled from the strain, her sleek midriff glistening beneath the bright lights above as Kane took in the sight of her pulled taunt, quivering figure as though she were a delectable, sugary treat.
The Red Princess did not indulge for long however, bringing her free hand to bare and, with her fingers acting as talons, she dug her digits DEEP! into Atlantics exposed tummy.
The All-American Athlete, as proud as she was, still was unable to prevent a howl was escaping her lips, the blonde somehow stiffening even further as the claw savaged her midriff. With vicious twists and turns, Kane expertly dragged from her foe cries of fresh pain as she probed for every point of weakness.
Alison closed her eyes, her breaths coming out in ragged, irregular gasps as her sculptured centre was ravaged, hips bucking as much as they were able in a fruitless effort to twist her way free. Via sheer force of will, Atlantic clamped down on her groans, forcing her lips to become sealed even as her resistance only proved to drive the Sensual Sadist before her to griiiiiiiiind her claw in even deeper!!
“Alright Kane,” the man in black and white stepped in to break it up. While the Ladies of FAWN were granted greater leeway with the rules that most Federations (largely because Bethany would have the Officials balls if he broke up a ‘good thing’ too early), they still had their limits. “She’s in the ropes, break it up.”
As Isabella spared him not even the scantest bit of attention, far too enraptured with her sultry, quivering adversary as she was, the man in black and white employed the only weapon he had remaining in his limited arsenal, the not entirely effective five count.
“ONE! TWO!! THREE!!! FOUR!!!! FI…”
Kane stepped away, disengaging her claw with scantly a breath left to spare and, with a glide in her stride, left Atlantic behind her to slump in the corner. Deep, long and slow, Isabella inhaled a gratuitously indulgent breath, Murders Favoured Daughter savouring the moment as carnal delight saturated her very veins. With a quirk of her lips that was as viperous as it was inviting, the Lady of High Society turned on the spot to…
…eat the entirety of a perfectly delivered, Bicycle Knee Strike!!
Bicycle Knee Strike
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDeBs7ZGCVI
To the delight of the FAWNatics, Alison had launched herself out of the corner like an arrow, her right knee connecting with Isabelle’s jaw as if it were a precision shot from a rifle. Kane, unsuspecting as she had been, was rocked to her core by the impact, stumbling in a haphazard half circle before she could even begin to regain her bearings. For just a moment, it looked as though she might topple, but she just barely managed to stand tall at the last second, blurry eyes searching for her assailant.
She wasn’t hard to find, the Lean Lioness a blur of perpetual motion now that she had been freed from her torment in the corner, the Bendyback Blonde zeroing back in on the Brit Aristocrat with a beguiling, Discuss Clothesline!!
DISCUSS CLOTHESLINE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nbZN3e89s18
Her forearm connected with a meaty WHACK!!, damn near beheading the brunette and sending her tumbling backwards onto the deck. Isabella landed badly, limbs turning leaden as certain lights had been momentarily switched off, her right thigh twitching as something vital in her braincase struggled to turn back on.
Unfortunately for Alison, she was in no position to take immediate advantage, a vicious stab of agony gripping her slim tummy as her adrenaline, for just a second, began to ebb. With a shimmy in her own thighs, the proud blonde dropped to her own knees, the Patriot Princess wincing as she wrapped one arm about her mercilessly mauled midriff. With shoulders quivering, she steeled her resolve, closing her eyes for just a moment as she could hear Kane stirring towards her own recovery.
She would not buckle, Atlantic promised herself, she would not succumb to the insatiable thirst of the Crimson Path’s Chosen Stalker.
On this particular evening, the cold concrete outside the ring had not proven to be an ally of either of the young women competing tonight. After a particularly nasty tumble, both ladies had been left laid out on the cool, unforgiving surface, the FAWNatics urging one of their number to recover before the other.
Their collective hopes, however, would ultimately be dashed as the Lithe Lady was the first to begin showing new signs of life, waking with a start and a sharp inhale of hissing breath.
Alison, by comparison, remained in a dazed state, splayed out on her back and moaning as she gazed up, with half lidded peepers, towards the rafters high above. Her breathing was measured yet shallow, and the soft rise and fall of her pert bosom whilst she lay in such a vulnerable state only added fuel to the fire of Kane’s growing obsession, gazing upon the fallen blonde with a covetous expression.
Somewhat dishevelled, but no less viperous, Isabelle rose to one knee before finding her full height, her mannerisms sleek as she paced towards her new, favourite foe. Unable to resist the urge to lick her lips, she reached forwards to grasp Atlantic by her wrists and, met with little to no resistance to her attentions, she tugged the shellshocked, All-American Athlete back up to sitting. After a little more insistence, Alison was returned to standing, albeit she did not remain vertical for long, Kane folding her forwards into a bow and securing the blonde in a STIFF headlock.
The FAWNatics responded with concern as Isabella also secured a firm hold of her opponents’ belt, fully believing they knew where this was going next…
…only for a sudden war cry from Atlantic to change their minds!
Perhaps woken by her stupor by impending disaster, Alison suddenly braced her previously slack posture and, wrapping her arms about Isabella’s waist, she powered herself forwards! Caught off balance by the sudden shift in momentum, Kane was driven backwards at a stumble until, with an audible WHACK!!, the small of her spine was RAMMED!! into the apron!!
Kane howled as her back was bent awkwardly about the hardest part of the ring, a shimmy in her knees as her thighs went numb, the Red Princess releasing her own hold of the Lean Lioness as her body protested with a blinding flare of pain.
Alison wasted little time in capitalising, retreating just half a step before positively surging her way back to fully vertical, a shout on her lips as she CLOCKED!! Isabella beneath her chin with a beautifully precise, perfectly executed, European Uppercut!
Kane was rocked right up onto her tip toes after her foes athletic limb solidly connected with the underside of her jaw and, a moment later, she slumped backwards against the apron in a daze. She didn’t quite tumble, but she was evidently in no fit state to do anything else, barely aware of her surroundings as her eyes struggled to regain focus.
For her own part, following the surge of match saving adrenaline, Atlantic stumbled away from her opponent until she arrived at the commentary table. The crowd serenaded her with support as she leant against it heavily, forcibly returning her heavy breathing to a measured and controlled pace. Reasserting her beloved poise, the Patriot Princess stood tall, reaching back to pull free her loose pony tail from its bonds to allow her glorious mane of golden curls to fall freely about her glistening shoulders. It was a signal that her faithful knew all too well, one that promised that Alison was now set on ending this contest.
With Kane still looking punch drunk, Atlantic returned to her crimson clad opponent and somewhat unceremoniously both muscled and shoved the Brit back into the ring. A second shove sent her into a roll which both pushed her deeper into the squared circle, and seemed to jog some semblance of awareness back into place, the groggy brunette beginning to push her way back up onto her hands and knees as Alison likewise used the ropes to help pull herself up onto the apron.
Atlantic remained a pace ahead of the slowly rousing Isabella, and she slipped between the top and middle rope to…
…meet Kane’s own, unexpectantly rapid resurgence as the brunette surged back up to her feet to stiffly PUNT!! the blindsided Alison clean across her temple!! There had been no war cry issued from Isabella, the Sensual Sadist striking without warning as she cracked the beautiful blonde before her clean across her head and, with a gasp from the FAWNatics, Alison slumped into a leaden heap like a puppet with her strings cut.
With Atlantic slumped forwards over the middle rope, long stems still hanging down outside the ring, Murders Favoured Daughter recollected the limp limbed, All-American Athlete back into a STIFF headlock. With measured steps in reverse, she slowly draaaaaaaaged her foe forwards across the coil she was precariously perched upon until only her ankles remained upon the ropes.
The smallest of smiles found the lips of Isabelle Kane before she suddenly THREW herself backwards, dragging the helpless Alison Atlantic with her and SPIKING!! the crown of the Lean Lioness wickedly into the canvas!!
ROPE HUNG DDT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=JVi9BYugOgo
The plywood shook and Alison recoiled, a ripple running through her spine before she slumped down boneless of the deck, a sharp spasm running throughout her right leg before she lay still.
Isabella exhaled, pulse racing and heart beating, victory within her grasp as, with Atlantic now quivering in her grasp, she smiled at the hard camera as she retained her tight headlock. Slowly, methodically and with deliberate intent, Isabelle rose to standing and brought Alison with her, the proud blonde dead weight and clay for her to play with. Grasping a hold of her adversaries’ belt, she forcibly hupped Atlantic’s lithe, lower limbs up to wrap about Kane’s hips, the Brit securing the already oblivious American into the tightest of small packages.
She held her there for a moment, the defiant lady of high society, Kane savouring the anticipation before HURLING herself backwards, the Sensual Sadist NAILING!! the crown of the Patriot Princess DEEP!! into the plywood, shaking the ring and robbing her of any remaining sense of consciousness.
DETHRONER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yckm0_xjeqw
Boneless, Alison stiffened for just one moment longer before inevitably slumping over onto her side. Isabella followed, viperous in the sleekness of her of her movements as she rolled Atlantic onto her back and slid across her top. Slowly, she entwined her lithe, lower limbs with the athletic stems of her bold foe and, grasping the other woman’s now complaint wrists, placed them firmly above the blonde’s own head, Kane laying atop Atlantic, from bosom to pelvis, and her lips to hers.
“I do believe,” Kane purred, sliding her attentions down across Alison’s tender cheek before seeking the girl’s fully exposed throat, pulse beating softly beneath her uninvited affections. “Payment has been received,” Isabella continued to boast, her probe becoming a kiss before she locked her lips about her treasured prize, suckling at the blonde’s cool flesh when it prickled from her teasing.
Instinctively, Alison responded, the body reacting to the sensual invasion as a shiver ran the length of her spine, her long, coveted neck curving in invitation to the sensations. With Atlantic, in her submissive state and barely conscious, Kane helped herself to her prize with insistent suckling, writhing gently atop the yielding blonde as the Official dropped down to the canvas to begin the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!
Even as the bell rang, and the sound system returned to life with…
BAD CHILD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bb4YEp9pjO0
…to confirm her victory, the Stalker of the Crimson Path refused to part with her prey, remaining atop the fallen, Patriot Princess even as the lights began to dim, Alison left to her utter lack of mercy.
GIANTS
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gc6QsGmgg00
…burst into life over the loud speakers. Mere moments later, a single spotlight shone down and silhouetted the sleek, well-crafted physique of the All-American Athlete, the Patriot Princess standing with her palms clasped together above her head before she thrust out her hands out wide, pointing to both sides of the arena as the lyrics…
“I’m gonna SLAY SOME GIANTS!!’
…boomed out over the sound system. An explosion of pyrokinetics accompanied her salute to the FAWNatics, and they responded to Alison Atlantic in kind, welcoming the return of the former, G.B.W Champion both back to American soil, and their promotion. Returning to the ranks after a few years of seasoning, the Lean Lioness began to stride down to the squared circle with an assured swagger, the five foot seven, one hundred twenty-eight-pound Bendyback imperious in her manner and yet inviting in demeanour, her cool smile melting hearts whilst she remained in a world apart.
ALISON ATLANTIC
She was ethereal, forever just out of reach, a dream for the faithful and a kind word for the downtrodden.
With her eye on the prize, Alison ascended the steel steps and marched down the apron, wiping her feet before fluidly sliding into the ring between the top and middle ropes. Once inside the squared circle, she once again clasped her palms above her head before swiftly striking both of her arms out to the opposite sides of the arena, laying her claim to a new Kingdom before she turned slowly on the spot.
With her eyes coming to settle on the curtains, Atlantic withdrew a few steps and kept herself limber, standing tall and most certainly ready as she awaited her opponent.
She did not have to wait long, not with…
BAD CHILD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bb4YEp9pjO0
…bleeding from the speakers, the stage falling dark as did much of the arena.
A single trail of crimson appeared soon after, leading from the stage all the way to the squared circle, illuminated by a glow from up above and guiding the way. There was but one stalker of that path, and her name was Isabella Kane, her Ladyship the last of her dying line and the harbinger of dark times to come. With one, athletic leg sliding fluidly in front of the other, the Scarlet Princess glided to the ring akin to an aloof predator, dark eyes always searching and the twitch of her lips always cold. Five foot seven and one hundred thirty pounds, she was the sensual sadist, every inch of her alluring, and yet every bite deadly.
ISABELLA KANE
She paused at the threshold, turning her full attention to one member of the audience, the rowdy FAWNatics quickly shutting up and, beneath her piercing gaze, promptly sat down and silently promised to behave from now on. Satisfied that her point had been made, that she could cow the filthy masses with nary a word spoken, Kane ascended the steel steps with poise, gliding between the top and middle ropes to enter the ring, her temperature rising now that she was so close to inflicting violence.
The lights returned to normal and, finally, Isabella turned her cool gaze to her opponent.
“Oh my,” she positively purred, low and threatening, dark, couvertes eyes drinking in every inch of the subline athlete before her. Alison didn’t flinch, meeting Isabella’s stare without fear. “Have we been acquainted?” Kane queried, pacing across the ring and, raising her right, gloved hand, she ever to slightly traced the tip of her index finger along the gleaming curves of Atlantic shoulders as she slowly circled her upcoming foe.
Alison, whilst she did not pull away, remained poised none the less, her own emerald peepers tracking her opponent’s movements every, fluid step of the way.
“I think not,” Isabella concluded, coming to a stop only once she had committed every curve of her fresh adversary to memory, the tip of her finger pressed lightly atop the blonde’s heart. “I would recall such a tall glass of… sultry.”
Atlantic was unhurried as, in one fluid, measured motion, she slid Kane’s probing limb away from her largely bare torso, her eyes locking with Kane’s. “You can’t afford me.”
“Oh my,” Kane all but purred, withdrawing half a stride with a twitch of her lips, the glint of her eyes betraying the venom in her smile. “We are delicious, aren’t we?”
Alison didn’t take the bait, imperious in her own stature, the All-American Athlete indomitable before the Lithe Lady. Distance was created between them, eyes locked every step of the way, and as they gazed into one another’s souls, the FAWNatics anticipation grew by several decibels. Just as the crowd was surely about to pop, the Official called for the bell!!
Without further invitation, the two ladies of high society began to circle, their paces measured and assured as they sized one another up, an unspoken agreement leading to a swift advance which resulted in a collision at centre ring. With a duo of grunts, both Alison and Isabella writhed in a Collar and Elbow tie up, athletic limbs intertwined and searching for even a moments weakness. Still, their eyes remained locked and, just as it seemed their foreheads would come to touching, it was Kane who seized upon Atlantic’s first, fleeting moment of distraction.
With swift, whiplash movements, the Red Princess adjusted her posture to spin and twist around to Alison’s back, twisting the right arm of the Lean Lioness with her and contorting it into a stiff Hammerlock! Tucked in tight against her foes back, Isabella glided in even closer and, without warning, slipped her warm lips up tight against the curve of Atlantic’s long, cool neck, prickling the skin of the blonde’s tender throat.
Alison stiffened at the uninvited attentions, even more so than she did the sharp twist of her shoulder, the Patriot Princess surrendering a wince and involuntary exhale as she felt a devious, deliberate nip upon her quickening pulse. Atlantic recovered quickly, proud by nature, the All-American Athlete doubled down on her efforts to escape, this time seizing on Kane’s momentary distraction to twist and turn her way to freedom, swiftly pivoting herself about until she was now settled front to back with the unsated, Sensual Sadist!
Wasting no further time to apply her own hold, she wrapped both of her arms about the trim midriff of Isabella and, with technique that only the finest of schools could provide, she positively powered the other Bendyback within her grasp up and over with a beautiful German Suplex!!
GERMAN SUPLEX
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikC0fIBUck4
The back of Kane’s head and shoulders connected with the canvas with a THUD!!, rattling the plywood and setting the ring itself to shaking, momentum momentarily folding Murders Favoured Daughter into a tight package before she was released by Alison and flopped over onto her side.
Even rattled as she was, it would take more than a single collision with the canvas to keep the likes of Isabella glued to it, and so the aristocratic Brit quickly regained her bearings and rolled over onto her back. Before she could rise however, the FAWNatics were enrapt as the perfectly poised, elegantly curved, Patriot Princess placed a single boot down upon her adversary’s chest to imperiously press Kane back down flat against the canvas.
Once again, they gazed into each other’s eyes, the brunette flat against the mat and the blonde looking down, the Gladiatrix photographers scrambling to capture the moment for prosperity.
“Perhaps you’re hard of hearing,” Atlantic spoke without haste, the Lean Lioness cool and collected in her every, subtle mannerism, unflinching in the face of Isabelle’s insatiable impulses. “You can’t afford me.”
Kane didn’t blink, nor did she attempt to remove the single boot that had her planted to the deck, and yet she looked far from repentant in the face of reprimand. Instead, she felt her heart quicken, drinking in the commanding lioness before her, lips twitching with renewed desire as, for the Stalker of the Crimson Path, fascination became obsession…
[[INTERMISSION]]
Rendered momentarily breathless, Alison Atlantic was wedged in tight against one corner, the top turnbuckle digging in deep between her shoulder blades as her arms were pulled out and ensnared amongst the uppermost ropes. She grimaced for a moment, head swimming in a daze as Isabella Kane cupped a palm beneath the blonde’s chin and, with cool delight, cranked the other young women’s head back. Currently powerless to resist, Alison’s upper body followed suit, stiffening by the second as her spine was forcibly curled the wrong way over the top turnbuckle and, in turn, the rest of her lithe physique was stretched to its limit. Her bare, trim tummy trembled from the strain, her sleek midriff glistening beneath the bright lights above as Kane took in the sight of her pulled taunt, quivering figure as though she were a delectable, sugary treat.
The Red Princess did not indulge for long however, bringing her free hand to bare and, with her fingers acting as talons, she dug her digits DEEP! into Atlantics exposed tummy.
The All-American Athlete, as proud as she was, still was unable to prevent a howl was escaping her lips, the blonde somehow stiffening even further as the claw savaged her midriff. With vicious twists and turns, Kane expertly dragged from her foe cries of fresh pain as she probed for every point of weakness.
Alison closed her eyes, her breaths coming out in ragged, irregular gasps as her sculptured centre was ravaged, hips bucking as much as they were able in a fruitless effort to twist her way free. Via sheer force of will, Atlantic clamped down on her groans, forcing her lips to become sealed even as her resistance only proved to drive the Sensual Sadist before her to griiiiiiiiind her claw in even deeper!!
“Alright Kane,” the man in black and white stepped in to break it up. While the Ladies of FAWN were granted greater leeway with the rules that most Federations (largely because Bethany would have the Officials balls if he broke up a ‘good thing’ too early), they still had their limits. “She’s in the ropes, break it up.”
As Isabella spared him not even the scantest bit of attention, far too enraptured with her sultry, quivering adversary as she was, the man in black and white employed the only weapon he had remaining in his limited arsenal, the not entirely effective five count.
“ONE! TWO!! THREE!!! FOUR!!!! FI…”
Kane stepped away, disengaging her claw with scantly a breath left to spare and, with a glide in her stride, left Atlantic behind her to slump in the corner. Deep, long and slow, Isabella inhaled a gratuitously indulgent breath, Murders Favoured Daughter savouring the moment as carnal delight saturated her very veins. With a quirk of her lips that was as viperous as it was inviting, the Lady of High Society turned on the spot to…
…eat the entirety of a perfectly delivered, Bicycle Knee Strike!!
Bicycle Knee Strike
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDeBs7ZGCVI
To the delight of the FAWNatics, Alison had launched herself out of the corner like an arrow, her right knee connecting with Isabelle’s jaw as if it were a precision shot from a rifle. Kane, unsuspecting as she had been, was rocked to her core by the impact, stumbling in a haphazard half circle before she could even begin to regain her bearings. For just a moment, it looked as though she might topple, but she just barely managed to stand tall at the last second, blurry eyes searching for her assailant.
She wasn’t hard to find, the Lean Lioness a blur of perpetual motion now that she had been freed from her torment in the corner, the Bendyback Blonde zeroing back in on the Brit Aristocrat with a beguiling, Discuss Clothesline!!
DISCUSS CLOTHESLINE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nbZN3e89s18
Her forearm connected with a meaty WHACK!!, damn near beheading the brunette and sending her tumbling backwards onto the deck. Isabella landed badly, limbs turning leaden as certain lights had been momentarily switched off, her right thigh twitching as something vital in her braincase struggled to turn back on.
Unfortunately for Alison, she was in no position to take immediate advantage, a vicious stab of agony gripping her slim tummy as her adrenaline, for just a second, began to ebb. With a shimmy in her own thighs, the proud blonde dropped to her own knees, the Patriot Princess wincing as she wrapped one arm about her mercilessly mauled midriff. With shoulders quivering, she steeled her resolve, closing her eyes for just a moment as she could hear Kane stirring towards her own recovery.
She would not buckle, Atlantic promised herself, she would not succumb to the insatiable thirst of the Crimson Path’s Chosen Stalker.
[[INTERMISSION]]
On this particular evening, the cold concrete outside the ring had not proven to be an ally of either of the young women competing tonight. After a particularly nasty tumble, both ladies had been left laid out on the cool, unforgiving surface, the FAWNatics urging one of their number to recover before the other.
Their collective hopes, however, would ultimately be dashed as the Lithe Lady was the first to begin showing new signs of life, waking with a start and a sharp inhale of hissing breath.
Alison, by comparison, remained in a dazed state, splayed out on her back and moaning as she gazed up, with half lidded peepers, towards the rafters high above. Her breathing was measured yet shallow, and the soft rise and fall of her pert bosom whilst she lay in such a vulnerable state only added fuel to the fire of Kane’s growing obsession, gazing upon the fallen blonde with a covetous expression.
Somewhat dishevelled, but no less viperous, Isabelle rose to one knee before finding her full height, her mannerisms sleek as she paced towards her new, favourite foe. Unable to resist the urge to lick her lips, she reached forwards to grasp Atlantic by her wrists and, met with little to no resistance to her attentions, she tugged the shellshocked, All-American Athlete back up to sitting. After a little more insistence, Alison was returned to standing, albeit she did not remain vertical for long, Kane folding her forwards into a bow and securing the blonde in a STIFF headlock.
The FAWNatics responded with concern as Isabella also secured a firm hold of her opponents’ belt, fully believing they knew where this was going next…
…only for a sudden war cry from Atlantic to change their minds!
Perhaps woken by her stupor by impending disaster, Alison suddenly braced her previously slack posture and, wrapping her arms about Isabella’s waist, she powered herself forwards! Caught off balance by the sudden shift in momentum, Kane was driven backwards at a stumble until, with an audible WHACK!!, the small of her spine was RAMMED!! into the apron!!
Kane howled as her back was bent awkwardly about the hardest part of the ring, a shimmy in her knees as her thighs went numb, the Red Princess releasing her own hold of the Lean Lioness as her body protested with a blinding flare of pain.
Alison wasted little time in capitalising, retreating just half a step before positively surging her way back to fully vertical, a shout on her lips as she CLOCKED!! Isabella beneath her chin with a beautifully precise, perfectly executed, European Uppercut!
Kane was rocked right up onto her tip toes after her foes athletic limb solidly connected with the underside of her jaw and, a moment later, she slumped backwards against the apron in a daze. She didn’t quite tumble, but she was evidently in no fit state to do anything else, barely aware of her surroundings as her eyes struggled to regain focus.
For her own part, following the surge of match saving adrenaline, Atlantic stumbled away from her opponent until she arrived at the commentary table. The crowd serenaded her with support as she leant against it heavily, forcibly returning her heavy breathing to a measured and controlled pace. Reasserting her beloved poise, the Patriot Princess stood tall, reaching back to pull free her loose pony tail from its bonds to allow her glorious mane of golden curls to fall freely about her glistening shoulders. It was a signal that her faithful knew all too well, one that promised that Alison was now set on ending this contest.
With Kane still looking punch drunk, Atlantic returned to her crimson clad opponent and somewhat unceremoniously both muscled and shoved the Brit back into the ring. A second shove sent her into a roll which both pushed her deeper into the squared circle, and seemed to jog some semblance of awareness back into place, the groggy brunette beginning to push her way back up onto her hands and knees as Alison likewise used the ropes to help pull herself up onto the apron.
Atlantic remained a pace ahead of the slowly rousing Isabella, and she slipped between the top and middle rope to…
…meet Kane’s own, unexpectantly rapid resurgence as the brunette surged back up to her feet to stiffly PUNT!! the blindsided Alison clean across her temple!! There had been no war cry issued from Isabella, the Sensual Sadist striking without warning as she cracked the beautiful blonde before her clean across her head and, with a gasp from the FAWNatics, Alison slumped into a leaden heap like a puppet with her strings cut.
With Atlantic slumped forwards over the middle rope, long stems still hanging down outside the ring, Murders Favoured Daughter recollected the limp limbed, All-American Athlete back into a STIFF headlock. With measured steps in reverse, she slowly draaaaaaaaged her foe forwards across the coil she was precariously perched upon until only her ankles remained upon the ropes.
The smallest of smiles found the lips of Isabelle Kane before she suddenly THREW herself backwards, dragging the helpless Alison Atlantic with her and SPIKING!! the crown of the Lean Lioness wickedly into the canvas!!
ROPE HUNG DDT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=JVi9BYugOgo
The plywood shook and Alison recoiled, a ripple running through her spine before she slumped down boneless of the deck, a sharp spasm running throughout her right leg before she lay still.
Isabella exhaled, pulse racing and heart beating, victory within her grasp as, with Atlantic now quivering in her grasp, she smiled at the hard camera as she retained her tight headlock. Slowly, methodically and with deliberate intent, Isabelle rose to standing and brought Alison with her, the proud blonde dead weight and clay for her to play with. Grasping a hold of her adversaries’ belt, she forcibly hupped Atlantic’s lithe, lower limbs up to wrap about Kane’s hips, the Brit securing the already oblivious American into the tightest of small packages.
She held her there for a moment, the defiant lady of high society, Kane savouring the anticipation before HURLING herself backwards, the Sensual Sadist NAILING!! the crown of the Patriot Princess DEEP!! into the plywood, shaking the ring and robbing her of any remaining sense of consciousness.
DETHRONER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yckm0_xjeqw
Boneless, Alison stiffened for just one moment longer before inevitably slumping over onto her side. Isabella followed, viperous in the sleekness of her of her movements as she rolled Atlantic onto her back and slid across her top. Slowly, she entwined her lithe, lower limbs with the athletic stems of her bold foe and, grasping the other woman’s now complaint wrists, placed them firmly above the blonde’s own head, Kane laying atop Atlantic, from bosom to pelvis, and her lips to hers.
“I do believe,” Kane purred, sliding her attentions down across Alison’s tender cheek before seeking the girl’s fully exposed throat, pulse beating softly beneath her uninvited affections. “Payment has been received,” Isabella continued to boast, her probe becoming a kiss before she locked her lips about her treasured prize, suckling at the blonde’s cool flesh when it prickled from her teasing.
Instinctively, Alison responded, the body reacting to the sensual invasion as a shiver ran the length of her spine, her long, coveted neck curving in invitation to the sensations. With Atlantic, in her submissive state and barely conscious, Kane helped herself to her prize with insistent suckling, writhing gently atop the yielding blonde as the Official dropped down to the canvas to begin the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!
Even as the bell rang, and the sound system returned to life with…
BAD CHILD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bb4YEp9pjO0
…to confirm her victory, the Stalker of the Crimson Path refused to part with her prey, remaining atop the fallen, Patriot Princess even as the lights began to dim, Alison left to her utter lack of mercy.