Post by EmmaWoods007 on Feb 18, 2021 9:29:00 GMT
ALISON ATLANTIC
CARLA CRASH
AMANDA DARK
…This was not the first time Crash had crossed swords with an Atlantic, yet frustratingly Alison was proving to be even more of a handful than Alexis. Finally, however, she had managed to beat the majority of the starch out of the proud blonde and, with the Patriot Princess now wedged up tight against one corner, arms draped over the top ropes and breathing shallow, her damn, spirited pride had finally buckled as well.
Bracing her palm beneath her foes chin, Carla pushed back on her foes noggin and rolled her foes lithe body back until it was stretched to its limit, Crash opting to keep Atlantic pliant by beating the other young woman, raining down two, stiff Forearm Smashes down against her glistening, largely bare torso. The Hollywood Hooligan was rewarded by a duo of deflated groans in accompaniment with each strike, Alison’s usually piercing blue eyes looking mournful and her poise crumbling, the Lean Lioness capitulating to the aggression of the Boulevard Bytch.
As much as Carla would prefer to be forcing those sounds of submission from one Summer Hopkins, her fellow American would have to do for the time being as Crash pulled herself back. Satisfied that Atlantic had little left remaining in her to retaliate, the brawler grabbed Alison by both of her firm buttocks and, when the blonde of high society didn’t present a protest, she muscled the All-American Athlete up to sitting on the tope turnbuckle, which is where the other young woman slumped.
The FAWNatics were trying their collective best to rally their flag attired favourite’s spirits back into the contest, but she scarcely seemed to even be able raise her head as Carla climbed up to the second turnbuckle in front of her. Sparing the chanting crowd a disdainful, disbelieving shake of her head, she shouted out to them…
“SHE’S DONE!” Crash insisted with authority, “FINISHED!”
As much as the FAWNatics tried to insist otherwise, they didn’t really have a convincing rebuttal, not as the Hardcore Hellcat slung one of her flagging adversaries’ arms over her shoulders, gripped her belt and bullied the compliant Atlantic up to standing on the top ropes. Right to the end, the crowd hoped…
…until Crash successfully powered Alison skywards high above the canvas, the tips of her boots pointed upwards towards the rafters for several seconds before Carla fell backwards!! A Superplex was always a sight to behold, and it was no less so this evening, even if the crowd felt as though the wrong person was on the wrong end of it.
Back first, Atlantic SLAMMED down across the canvas with enough force to jolt her entire, athletic frame a good half a foot back up into the air before the resulting recoil sent her springing by back to sitting. She might have stayed that way had Carla not grabbed her by her pony tail and yanked her back down to laying flat, straddling her proud foes hips and pressing down on the other girls’ shoulders.
The Official was on point to begin the pinfall…
ONE!
TWO!!
THR…
Alison SHOVED up a shoulder with a renewed shout, some manner of life returning to her body as she rolled over to one side.
The FAWNatics cheered, hopeful for a recovery.
Crash, still straddling the blonde’s hips, shook her head with a different opinion.
“I’m calling bullshit,” she insisted, eyeing the Official.
The man in black and white shook his head, “Two and a half.”
Ruefully, Carla shook her head again, unconvinced, “Bullshit.”
Exhaling a deep breath, she looked to the outside of the ring to her sponsor but, to her complete lack of surprise, Amanda Dark was barely paying attention. The Mother of Midnight was sat back against the barricades and nursing a hangover, debatably not even awake.
Putting the sight out of mind, Crash got back up to her feet, collecting the increasingly alert Atlantic with her and dragging her all the way up to boot leather. With a pivot and yank, she launched Alison into a sprint back towards the corner they had just come from by way of Irish Whip, her opponent only just managing to turn herself about in time to collide with the turnbuckles across her shoulders. She grimaced while absorbing the bone rattling collision, but Atlantic resisted the urge to slump back to sitting on the middle pad.
Carla back peddled several steps and, psyching up, threw herself forwards into a charge with a shout surging upwards from her torso. At the last stride, she whipped up her right leg to SMASH the sole of her boot clean against the blonde’s temple…
…only for the Patriot Princess to duck her head neatly to one side and deftly avoid the wicked collision!
With an involuntary cry of alarm emerging from her lips, a wide-eyed Crash kept traveling forwards until she was pressed up awkwardly against Alison, her right leg slung up and over the other young woman’s shoulder. Atlantic not only secured it, but also grabbed Carla by the belt, walked them both out of the corner to the delight of the FAWNatics, turned about and then, with spirit flaring back to life, she expertly tossed the Hollywood Hooligan up and over with a sweet Capture Suplex!!
CAPTURE SUPLEX
www.youtube.com/watch?v=91XEXEUCdlc
“OH SHI…” were the syllables to leave Carla’s lips before she was DUMPED back down across the across her shoulders, bucking from the landing an audible hiss of pain and rolling away. She was relatively quick to get back up to her feet, unwilling to let momentum slip from her grasp again…
…only to find that Alison was that little step faster, feeding on adrenaline as she met Crash’s advance with one of her own, the FAWNatics captivated as she pivoted sharply on the spot, continued to spiral and then WHIP her long, right up and around to SMACK the face of her boot against Carla’s cheek!!
CROSS ATLANTIC STRIKE: @1:45
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYZHiN9Me1k
Crash didn’t quite tumble over, the Boulevard Bytch stumbling blindly and in a daze before she slumped against a set of turnbuckles, clinging to them as though they were a life raft.
Alison took a much-needed moment to collect herself, her poise returning with each measured breath as she paced a circle on over to the opposite corner, willing away the last of her daze. The crowd were behind her and, with their chanting, she was able to find solid ground, nodding to herself as she turned around and lined up her now shellshocked opponent.
The Lean Lioness made her decision, hunkering down low as she pulled her hair loose from its pony tail to let her blonde mane fall free about her shoulders. She was calling her shot, and the FAWNatics responded, building the anticipation with each passing second as Carla stumbled out from the corner, Atlantic ready to unleash her spear…
…but was interrupted before she could take her first step!! Amanda Dark was suddenly there, the Mother of Midnight briefly reaching beneath the bottom rope and grabbing a hold of her right ankle. It hadn’t been enough to trip her, and it was too quick for the Official to spot, but it had halted Alison in her tracks just as she pulled the trigger and everyone in the arena, aside from the man in black and white knew it!!
Protests rained down from every corner of the hall and Atlantic turned about to look at Dark, warning the brunette with a poised look from her piercing blue peepers to not get involved. They had met once before, while the All-American Athlete had still been in developmental, but the Former G.B.W. Champion wasn’t that rookie anymore, and the ring veteran didn’t have the same power over her.
Amanda backed up, but she looked far from apologetic, Alison maintaining a steady gaze until she was no longer a threat. She turned about and…
…was NAILED by a disastrous Big Boot, a charging Hardcore Hellcat damn near taking Atlantic’s head off as the crowd erupted with boos!!
BIG BOOT: @0:55
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFiRaiMXdaA
Alison went down hard, all efforts to try and get back up doomed to fail.
Crash was on her in an instant, franticly going for the throat in her opponent’s moment of weakness, tugging the dazed blonde to her feet and dragging her towards centre ring. Folding Alison forwards, she pulled the reeling young woman towards her and stuffed her head between her thighs. Not slowing, Carla slipped both of her arms beneath Atlantic’s shoulders, applying one underhook after the other before bracing her back, popping her knees and, with a deep breath, powered the Patriot Princess clean off the deck!
Lifting until Alison was held vertical with the canvas, her boots pointing upwards towards the rafters, the Hollywood Hooligan didn’t wait on ceremony before sitting out and SPIKING the crown of the Lean Lioness into the deck with vindictive force!!
REALITY CHECK
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoqK1XUmJOM
With a savage jolt running the length of her athletic body, Atlantic slumped into a ragged, dejected heap between her opponents open thighs and could only stare blankly at the lights above with half lidded peepers, Crash collecting both of the young women’s stems and compressing her down tight for a pinfall.
The Official began his count…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE…
Carla tossed Alison’s lifeless legs aside and broke up the count.
The FAWNatics booed, and the Official had more than a few harsh words prepared for the display of poor sportsmanship.
“Come on, Crash,” he protested. “You took her out, let it be done.”
“You know something, Chief?” Carla stated whilst still sitting, rolling her neck before doing likewise with shoulders. “A few months ago, I would have agreed with you but lately?” She paused, pushing herself back up to standing and hauling the deadweight of Atlantic up with her, the All-American Athlete almost entirely unresponsive.
“I am sick of these limp wristed pretenders thinking that they can hang with a real Bytch like me!” she spat, bringing voice to her frustrations. “I’m the real deal,” Crash continued, tugging Alison’s remains forwards back into a Standing Headscissors, reapplying the double underhook before powering Atlantic’s unresponsive frame to hanging suspended upside down with the canvas, and then…
…she DROPPED!!
Nailing the already defeated blonde with a second Reality Check in less than sixty seconds!!
Many FAWNatics looked away, the rest saw their heroine spasm sharply before flopping out into a boneless heap, right leg twitching for a few seconds before becoming still. She was finished, nothing at all left to give for the rest of this evening, ivory complexation glistening with perspiration as her bosom was just barely rose and fell.
Carla got up, pumped out her arms and then, in a supreme display of domination planted just one boot atop her opponents’ bosom, all that was needed to pin the Patriot Princess to the canvas.
The Official dropped down to the mat, counting…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
…confirming her victory.
RISE UP
www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4Ukq0O53wE
…returned to the loud speakers, and Carla didn’t shift from her position, keeping her proverbial flag planted on the chest of her new rival, photographers on hand to capture the moment for prosperity.
CARLA CRASH
AMANDA DARK
…This was not the first time Crash had crossed swords with an Atlantic, yet frustratingly Alison was proving to be even more of a handful than Alexis. Finally, however, she had managed to beat the majority of the starch out of the proud blonde and, with the Patriot Princess now wedged up tight against one corner, arms draped over the top ropes and breathing shallow, her damn, spirited pride had finally buckled as well.
Bracing her palm beneath her foes chin, Carla pushed back on her foes noggin and rolled her foes lithe body back until it was stretched to its limit, Crash opting to keep Atlantic pliant by beating the other young woman, raining down two, stiff Forearm Smashes down against her glistening, largely bare torso. The Hollywood Hooligan was rewarded by a duo of deflated groans in accompaniment with each strike, Alison’s usually piercing blue eyes looking mournful and her poise crumbling, the Lean Lioness capitulating to the aggression of the Boulevard Bytch.
As much as Carla would prefer to be forcing those sounds of submission from one Summer Hopkins, her fellow American would have to do for the time being as Crash pulled herself back. Satisfied that Atlantic had little left remaining in her to retaliate, the brawler grabbed Alison by both of her firm buttocks and, when the blonde of high society didn’t present a protest, she muscled the All-American Athlete up to sitting on the tope turnbuckle, which is where the other young woman slumped.
The FAWNatics were trying their collective best to rally their flag attired favourite’s spirits back into the contest, but she scarcely seemed to even be able raise her head as Carla climbed up to the second turnbuckle in front of her. Sparing the chanting crowd a disdainful, disbelieving shake of her head, she shouted out to them…
“SHE’S DONE!” Crash insisted with authority, “FINISHED!”
As much as the FAWNatics tried to insist otherwise, they didn’t really have a convincing rebuttal, not as the Hardcore Hellcat slung one of her flagging adversaries’ arms over her shoulders, gripped her belt and bullied the compliant Atlantic up to standing on the top ropes. Right to the end, the crowd hoped…
…until Crash successfully powered Alison skywards high above the canvas, the tips of her boots pointed upwards towards the rafters for several seconds before Carla fell backwards!! A Superplex was always a sight to behold, and it was no less so this evening, even if the crowd felt as though the wrong person was on the wrong end of it.
Back first, Atlantic SLAMMED down across the canvas with enough force to jolt her entire, athletic frame a good half a foot back up into the air before the resulting recoil sent her springing by back to sitting. She might have stayed that way had Carla not grabbed her by her pony tail and yanked her back down to laying flat, straddling her proud foes hips and pressing down on the other girls’ shoulders.
The Official was on point to begin the pinfall…
ONE!
TWO!!
THR…
Alison SHOVED up a shoulder with a renewed shout, some manner of life returning to her body as she rolled over to one side.
The FAWNatics cheered, hopeful for a recovery.
Crash, still straddling the blonde’s hips, shook her head with a different opinion.
“I’m calling bullshit,” she insisted, eyeing the Official.
The man in black and white shook his head, “Two and a half.”
Ruefully, Carla shook her head again, unconvinced, “Bullshit.”
Exhaling a deep breath, she looked to the outside of the ring to her sponsor but, to her complete lack of surprise, Amanda Dark was barely paying attention. The Mother of Midnight was sat back against the barricades and nursing a hangover, debatably not even awake.
Putting the sight out of mind, Crash got back up to her feet, collecting the increasingly alert Atlantic with her and dragging her all the way up to boot leather. With a pivot and yank, she launched Alison into a sprint back towards the corner they had just come from by way of Irish Whip, her opponent only just managing to turn herself about in time to collide with the turnbuckles across her shoulders. She grimaced while absorbing the bone rattling collision, but Atlantic resisted the urge to slump back to sitting on the middle pad.
Carla back peddled several steps and, psyching up, threw herself forwards into a charge with a shout surging upwards from her torso. At the last stride, she whipped up her right leg to SMASH the sole of her boot clean against the blonde’s temple…
…only for the Patriot Princess to duck her head neatly to one side and deftly avoid the wicked collision!
With an involuntary cry of alarm emerging from her lips, a wide-eyed Crash kept traveling forwards until she was pressed up awkwardly against Alison, her right leg slung up and over the other young woman’s shoulder. Atlantic not only secured it, but also grabbed Carla by the belt, walked them both out of the corner to the delight of the FAWNatics, turned about and then, with spirit flaring back to life, she expertly tossed the Hollywood Hooligan up and over with a sweet Capture Suplex!!
CAPTURE SUPLEX
www.youtube.com/watch?v=91XEXEUCdlc
“OH SHI…” were the syllables to leave Carla’s lips before she was DUMPED back down across the across her shoulders, bucking from the landing an audible hiss of pain and rolling away. She was relatively quick to get back up to her feet, unwilling to let momentum slip from her grasp again…
…only to find that Alison was that little step faster, feeding on adrenaline as she met Crash’s advance with one of her own, the FAWNatics captivated as she pivoted sharply on the spot, continued to spiral and then WHIP her long, right up and around to SMACK the face of her boot against Carla’s cheek!!
CROSS ATLANTIC STRIKE: @1:45
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYZHiN9Me1k
Crash didn’t quite tumble over, the Boulevard Bytch stumbling blindly and in a daze before she slumped against a set of turnbuckles, clinging to them as though they were a life raft.
Alison took a much-needed moment to collect herself, her poise returning with each measured breath as she paced a circle on over to the opposite corner, willing away the last of her daze. The crowd were behind her and, with their chanting, she was able to find solid ground, nodding to herself as she turned around and lined up her now shellshocked opponent.
The Lean Lioness made her decision, hunkering down low as she pulled her hair loose from its pony tail to let her blonde mane fall free about her shoulders. She was calling her shot, and the FAWNatics responded, building the anticipation with each passing second as Carla stumbled out from the corner, Atlantic ready to unleash her spear…
…but was interrupted before she could take her first step!! Amanda Dark was suddenly there, the Mother of Midnight briefly reaching beneath the bottom rope and grabbing a hold of her right ankle. It hadn’t been enough to trip her, and it was too quick for the Official to spot, but it had halted Alison in her tracks just as she pulled the trigger and everyone in the arena, aside from the man in black and white knew it!!
Protests rained down from every corner of the hall and Atlantic turned about to look at Dark, warning the brunette with a poised look from her piercing blue peepers to not get involved. They had met once before, while the All-American Athlete had still been in developmental, but the Former G.B.W. Champion wasn’t that rookie anymore, and the ring veteran didn’t have the same power over her.
Amanda backed up, but she looked far from apologetic, Alison maintaining a steady gaze until she was no longer a threat. She turned about and…
…was NAILED by a disastrous Big Boot, a charging Hardcore Hellcat damn near taking Atlantic’s head off as the crowd erupted with boos!!
BIG BOOT: @0:55
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFiRaiMXdaA
Alison went down hard, all efforts to try and get back up doomed to fail.
Crash was on her in an instant, franticly going for the throat in her opponent’s moment of weakness, tugging the dazed blonde to her feet and dragging her towards centre ring. Folding Alison forwards, she pulled the reeling young woman towards her and stuffed her head between her thighs. Not slowing, Carla slipped both of her arms beneath Atlantic’s shoulders, applying one underhook after the other before bracing her back, popping her knees and, with a deep breath, powered the Patriot Princess clean off the deck!
Lifting until Alison was held vertical with the canvas, her boots pointing upwards towards the rafters, the Hollywood Hooligan didn’t wait on ceremony before sitting out and SPIKING the crown of the Lean Lioness into the deck with vindictive force!!
REALITY CHECK
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoqK1XUmJOM
With a savage jolt running the length of her athletic body, Atlantic slumped into a ragged, dejected heap between her opponents open thighs and could only stare blankly at the lights above with half lidded peepers, Crash collecting both of the young women’s stems and compressing her down tight for a pinfall.
The Official began his count…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE…
Carla tossed Alison’s lifeless legs aside and broke up the count.
The FAWNatics booed, and the Official had more than a few harsh words prepared for the display of poor sportsmanship.
“Come on, Crash,” he protested. “You took her out, let it be done.”
“You know something, Chief?” Carla stated whilst still sitting, rolling her neck before doing likewise with shoulders. “A few months ago, I would have agreed with you but lately?” She paused, pushing herself back up to standing and hauling the deadweight of Atlantic up with her, the All-American Athlete almost entirely unresponsive.
“I am sick of these limp wristed pretenders thinking that they can hang with a real Bytch like me!” she spat, bringing voice to her frustrations. “I’m the real deal,” Crash continued, tugging Alison’s remains forwards back into a Standing Headscissors, reapplying the double underhook before powering Atlantic’s unresponsive frame to hanging suspended upside down with the canvas, and then…
…she DROPPED!!
Nailing the already defeated blonde with a second Reality Check in less than sixty seconds!!
Many FAWNatics looked away, the rest saw their heroine spasm sharply before flopping out into a boneless heap, right leg twitching for a few seconds before becoming still. She was finished, nothing at all left to give for the rest of this evening, ivory complexation glistening with perspiration as her bosom was just barely rose and fell.
Carla got up, pumped out her arms and then, in a supreme display of domination planted just one boot atop her opponents’ bosom, all that was needed to pin the Patriot Princess to the canvas.
The Official dropped down to the mat, counting…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
…confirming her victory.
RISE UP
www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4Ukq0O53wE
…returned to the loud speakers, and Carla didn’t shift from her position, keeping her proverbial flag planted on the chest of her new rival, photographers on hand to capture the moment for prosperity.