Eurasian #1 contenders four-way elimination

As the night continued to roll on, the FAWNatics could scarcely believe all that had already transpired and yet, somehow, the show was still heating up. With baited breath they waited as the Announcer came to centre stage, bringing his mic up to his lips to declare…



“Ladies and Gentleman, the following contest will be a Number One Contenders Match for the EurAsia Title!!”



The crowd cheered, very vocal in their support, eager to discover just who would be next in their efforts to topple the Gaelic Goddess, Cleona Flynn from her throne.



“The Winner will be decided in a Four Way Elimination Match, the last woman standing will be the New Number One Contender! Introducing first, hailing fro…”



BAD THINGS

www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKzwSsxkpTA



…burst into life over the loud speakers, interrupting the gentlemen before he could continue, sending a ripple of confusion through the masses for, surely, Cleona Flynn’s own benefactor wouldn’t be involved in a contest for the Redheaded Reaper’s coveted gold? A sense of disquiet fell across the FAWNatics, sensing duplicity and, when they found the same look of confusion upon the features of the Announcer, they knew something underhanded was in the works.



Moments later, a curvy brunette emerged from behind the curtains uninvited, 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, tipped with a beautifully sculptured, silver forged, glowering wolfs head. She planted it in the ground before her, clasping it imperiously with both palms.



Tipping her chin up just so, 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, for once, she allowed her very presence alone to speak for her, before the aristocrat set 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.



The crowd watched her every step of the way, expecting her to reveal some manner of trickery at a moments notice, her regal poise just barely hiding the endless machinations whirling about in her mind.



She passed the steel steps with nary even a consideration of ascending them, pacing down the side of the apron as she instead approached the commentary table with a faint disregard for those already sitting there. She came to stand before them, planting her cane and assessing the team behind the desk with an imperious tilt of her chin and a withering, devastating perk of her right brow.



No more needed to be said as space was hastily created and a chair made vacant, Her Ladyship making her way to it with a look of contempt and managing to convey a remarkable amount of scorn with but a single tut. Taking her place at the commentary table, the benefactor of the EurAsia Champion put on her headset, folded her legs and, with scarcely a look at the Announcer, curtly waved in his direction, allowing him to know that he may continue.



The gentlemen in question, a little put out by the interruption, cleared his throat and promptly got back on track, beginning again like the pro that he was.



“Introducing first, hail fro…”



OH MY MY

www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7TN-TpkET8



…erupted into life over the loud speakers for a second time and, with a deep sigh of barely repressed exasperation, the man at centre ring found himself cut off twice in a row.



The crowd were evidently much happier with circumstances than he was, being as the bombastic track heralded the arrival of the youngest member of the Sinclair clan, the forever scrappy Scarlet!



Predictably enough, Scarlet was swift to appear, practically bursting through the curtains before skidding to an abrupt halt, eyes filled of mischief and sporting a smirk, five foot two and one-hundred and ten pounds of Miniature Mauler perpetually ready to unleash her roar.



SCARLET SINCLAIR

















She remained rooted on the spot, gauging the FAWNatics applause, the brunette standing with her hands on her hips and her head tilted to one side. With an expression of exaggerated pondering, she quickly delivered a shake of her head, decreeing that her reception had not been suitably robust.



Stepping back for just a second, Scarlet threw her arms back up into the air and, taking their cue, the FAWNatics rose their ovation by several decibels further.



Seemingly satisfied with the crowds renewed efforts, she flashed a fresh smirk and set off down the ramp on her way to the squared circle, taking no small amount of time to flirt with each cute boy (and one cameraman) she encountered. She paused for a few moments longer before one lucky chap in particular and, based on her animations and a little lip reading, suggestions seemed to be made concerning ‘butt stuff’ and ‘Mary’. Scarlet seemed to think it over…



…before swatting the underside of his cup, drenching the young man in his own booze just to make it clear that he had overstepped.



As the crowd heckled his misfortune, Scarlet flashed a fresh grin and turned her back on the gentlemen, swatting her own little booty just to let him know what he was missing out on before she dashed the last few yards to the ring, diving beneath the bottom rope and rolling up onto her feet, light footed in stride as she shot the Announcer at centre ring a wink before cutting a B-Line for the furthest set of turnbuckles. She climbed them quickly and raised her arms up high, delivering one last salute to the adoring masses before, eagle eyed, she spotted Lydia at the commentary table.



The two exchanged looks, Lethbridge displaying visible contempt, and Scarlet resisting the urge to rub her jaw, remembering how sore it had been left after Lydia had kicked her in the face. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have held it against her, all’s fair the squared circle after all but, first, the match between them had already been over and second, perhaps worse, it hadn’t even been about Scarlet.



Lethbridge had kicked her in the face to make a statement back at Sammie and, as much as the Youngest Sinclair loved her big sister, she refused to be the footnote in someone else’s story.



Not even Samantha Sinclair’s.



Scarlet flashed Lydia the universal hand signal of ‘I’m Watching You’ and Lethbridge merely scowled back, shaking her head and dismissing the Barroom Brit out of hand. The little brunette decided that she would need to fix that before too long, hopping down to the canvas to stand ready in one corner, but for the moment she had bigger things to consider. With the cheekiest of expressions, she mimicked Lydia’s earlier gesture, albeit with more good humour, allowing the Announcer to know that he may continue.



With a world-weary sigh and the smallest shake of his head, the Gentlemen brought the stick back up to speak.



“And introducing second,” he paused for a moment, briefly looking to the curtains in preparation of being cut off. Not even a rustle, and the speakers remained silent. Feeling more confident, he continued with, “Hailing fro…”



POWER

www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhTHJyRjVIc



…burst into life over the sound system and, this time, the Announcers deep sigh of frustration was audible as his duties were undermined yet again!



All eyes were on the entrance however as, there at centre stage, stood the Mistress of Mayhem, all five foot seven and one hundred thirty pounds of unrepentant hooligan already armed and most certainly dangerous. With feet braced apart and arms spread open wide, the Brit flashed a crooked grin and allowed the FAWNatics to drink every inch of her in, as much in love with herself as anyone else ever could be, and scintillating to the touch.



REBECCA REIGN









Once a Babyface in the making, the now infamous Rebecca Reign had chosen a far easier path to stardom and, wielding a kendo stick in one hand, she answered the jeers of her heartbroken faithful with a stiff, one fingered salute before she began marching down the ramp. With a swagger in her stride and a cockiness in her stature, she revelled in the boos that were rained down upon her, protected from their ire by a nigh on impenetrable shield of her ego.



She made her way to the ring in swift order, still brandishing her weapon, tapping the tip of it against the apron as she strode past on her way to the steel steps. Upon reaching the furniture, she ascended them quickly and, pausing only to deliver a fresh, one fingered salute back out towards the heckling masses, she ducked into the squared circle between the top and middle ropes.



Reign finally set her kendo stick down within reach on the apron and, upon making eye contact with Scarlet, she wasted exactly zero time in mocking the smaller Brit.



“Run along stunty,” she condescended, bringing her hand up flat to a distance off the canvas that was a few inches above Sinclair’s noggin. “You have to be this tall to ride this train.”



“Get bent,” Scarlet retaliated, the Babe of Brawl no stranger to smack talk. “I wouldn’t ride your train if the tickets were free.”



Reign responded with a one fingered salute and Scarlet shot back with the two fingered variety, the duo immediately matching their respective dislike for one another within seconds of meeting.



“Alright Jeeves,” Rebecca turned her attention to the Announcer. “Get the next one out, we haven’t got all night.”



The gentlemen in question, understandably, hesitated to immediately take action, weary already for the evening as he returned to centre ring. He brought his mic up to his lips and inhaled deeply, just waiting for the proverbial football to be yanked away again…



“Introducing next,” he began, hesitating as he dared a look at the curtains.



Nothing.



No sign of impending interruption.



“Hailing from Paris, France,” he paused, his wariness visible.



Still, nothing.



He dared himself to relax, easing back into his roll and continuing with confidence.



“The Phoenician and Olympian Incarnate, FIONA! PHOENIX!!”



Immediately, the house lights fell and, over the loud speakers, emerged…



LEGEND IS BORN

www.youtube.com/watch?v=TY9j2oJu62Q



Moments later, a single spotlight lit up the stage, silhouetting the young woman standing imperious at its centre, arms upraised high and gilded in the tapestry of royalty, regal in nature and ethereal in presence. She beguiled where she stared, and she shattered peoples hopes with her scorn, the pathway before her towards the ring growing slowly in illumination before she started to step down, five foot eight and one hundred thirty pounds of breath-taking poise and perfect precision.



FIONA PHOENIX













She was in no hurry, striding the path towards the squared circle, long legs stepping one in front of the other as she indulged in the ceremony of her own fanfare, her hypnotising physique kept well and truly out of reach of even those sitting closest.



Arriving at the steel steps, she paused only upon reaching the ring ropes, demanding that some manner of stagehand open them for her. With her chin tipped up just so, she waited impatiently for one of the gentlemen to respond to her silent command. Only when one of them finally caught on and jumped onto the apron, raising the top and sitting down on the middle, did Fiona slip regally into the squared circle, glowering at the poor man for his tardiness.



Her quite ire didn’t end there, not as she took her place at centre ring and graced the much put-upon Announcer with a withering stare, ensuring that he knew that she was not pleased in his performance in declaring her arrival. She dismissed him with a swift swish of her open palm and, as the house lights began to return to normal illumination, Fiona made her way over to one the last free corners.



There, Phoenix unclasped her extravagant robe and placed it neatly on the apron.



“I’m taking that,” Scarlet piped up from the other side of the ring, nodding at the garment. “Just letting you know.”



Fiona graced the smallest young woman within the squared circle with a venomous glare, “You wouldn’t dare.”



Sinclair couldn’t help herself, hunkering low and shaking her little booty as though she were about to pounce, the glint in her eye promising mischief in the making.



“Oh,” Scarlet retorted, “I think I might.”



Phoenix prepared to deliver a fresh rebuttal but, after her lip curled, she instead looked away, decreeing that the rodent was not worth her attention.



With a slight frown, Sinclair noted that. Seemed there were a few things that she needed to set right tonight.



The ring was filling up fast, and yet there was still one corner vacant, and those FAWNatics who had access to tonight’s card were quick to remember who it must be, anticipation rising sharply as the Announcer returned to the rings centre, clearing his throat one final time.



“And last,” he began, feeling increasingly confident that he would be able to finish his sentence. “Hailing from the United Kingdom, the Supergirl of Sheffield, SUMMER! HOPKINS!!”



MADE FOR THIS

www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIwbSq-bomk



…burst into life over the loud speakers and the stage was bathed in renewed illumination, the Girl of Steel, Summer Hopkins, standing at its centre.



SUMMER HOPKINS













Remembering all of her coaching, Summer popped into a jaunty, little bicep flex with one of her long stems crossed ever so slightly in front of the other, capturing everyone’s attention, including that of the Gladiatrix photographers.



While she didn’t quite possess the sheer, domineering presence of her elder sibling, Cassie, Baby Hopkins was physically sublime non the less, every inch of her a sleek and athletic in all the right places as her form fitting attire hugged her like a jealous lover, five foot seven and one hundred and twenty-eight pounds of instant heartbreak.



Faced with the crowds overwhelming response, she heroically fought down the desire to blush, the masses serenading her with cheers as they were extremely pleased to see her. Emboldened by their support, the wallflower turned starlet pivoted into a spiral with her arms outstretched, the walls of her childhood insecurities toppled by the positive reinforcement. Summer was living a dream, and she was giddy with embarrassment, bringing her hands back together in the shape of a heart, one that mirrored the cut-out silhouette in her sapphire top.



She set off down the ramp, spotlight accompanying her the entire way, eating up the distance with long strides in no time at all. As the British Bombshell 2.0, her blonde curls bounced atop her shoulders, and as the ring swiftly approached, she arrived at it without hesitation, diverting to the closest corner at a sudden dash.



As she reached the apron she jumped, deftly making the distance with both of her long legs before sweeping them up and over the top rope, lifting one lithe stem up and over the uppermost coil before following up with the second, deliberately offering the nearest camera (and inadvertently an extremely hungry looking Rebecca Reign) a cheeky shot of her firm buttocks in the process, no doubt done so at the behest of her sponsor, especially with the words ‘YOU WISH!!’ stencilled across the young women’s firm, crimson clad cheeks in white, girlish script.



Arriving at centre ring, she popped into a second, jaunty bicep flex for the FAWNatics continued appreciation, Summer as endearing as could be.



Soon enough, a fresh chant rippled through the crowd that only grew in momentum.



“MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!!”



They shouted, apparently having picked their favourite for the contest, and Summer bit down on her bottom lip before offering them a renewed wave.



“You’re made for something,” Rebecca observed, her eyes having not left Hopkins from the moment the leggy blonde had appeared on the stage. She was smirking, not even trying to hide her attraction, meeting Summer in person for the first time, and immediately regretting not signing for FAWN sooner. “That’s for damn sure.”



The Supergirl of Sheffield was caught a little flat footed, her cheeks flushing crimson before she could master the reaction. “Thank you?”



Scarlet rolled her eyes with a ‘this is lame’ groan.



“Seriously,” Reign went one, absently flicking Scarlet a fresh, one fingered salute, Sinclair responding with her own two. “Where have you been all my life?”



Summer adjusted her top slightly, not quite sure what to do, trying her best to not look so awkward, “Sheffield?”



“Damn, girl,” Rebecca settled back in her corner, eyes not leaving Hopkins, taking in every inch of her sculptured physique. “When we start getting physical, I might just forget why I’m out here.”



Summer had no idea how to reply to that, so instead she fought down a fresh bout of embarrassment, and adjusted her tight-fitting shorts.



She had a match to win, the blonde reminded herself, focus on that.



“To be continued,” Rebecca promised, leaving the other young women be and turning her attention to the other duo of athletes. Someone was going to get their head kicked off their shoulders, she just hadn’t decided which one yet.



As for the Announcer, pleased that his duties were done for this particular contest, began to make his way from the ring, passing the Official on his way out and wishing him luck.



Somewhat ruefully, the man in black and white laughed, taking his place at the centre of the squared circle, raised his hand high, and then called for the bell…



…Fiona was the first to react, poised like a thoroughbred waiting for the pistol and…



…dropped to the canvas before rolling straight out of the ring!



The FAWNatics immediately began heckling the infamous athlete for her hasty retreat to the outside, but the Phoenician cared not for their opinions, stepping back from the squared circle with measured paces and removing herself from danger. She regarded the other three, young women still in the ring with faint condescension, her manner haughty.



“Get to it then,” Phoenix commanded, all the while keeping out of the line of fire…



…or so she thought!!



Not one to pass up an opportunity to stick it to a snotty cow, Scarlet sprinted across the ring, leapt at the last pace and positively hurled herself up and over the top rope.



The FAWNatics cheered in appreciation as she spun up and over before connecting with a wide-eyed Fiona with a sweet little Senton, knocking the Paris Native off her feet and sending them both tumbling to the concrete.



OVER THE TOP ROPE SENTON: @0:14

www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1TpF4uMFU8



“Well,” Rebecca observed before pushing out from her corner. “That was unexpected, looks like it’s you and me, Babe.”



“Don’t call me Babe,” Summer requested, wanting to be taken seriously as she began matching Reign’s pace, the duo of Brits soon circling, the distance between them shortening with each stride.



“Sure thing, Gorgeous,” Rebecca flashed a crooked grin as, by unspoken signal, they both surged forwards to lock up tightly at centre ring.



In reply, as they writhed for leverage against one another, grunting and groaning with ever increasing effort, Hopkins scrunched up her nose ever so slightly. The expression was not as stern as she was hoping, and Reigns only smiled more.



“How about BeutifuohHEY!!” Rebecca suddenly exclaimed as Summer tactically adjusted her grip and expertly Hip Tossed the brunette, sending her tumbling head over heels before she hit the canvas across her back. Bouncing off the mat with a short grunt, Reign rolled with the momentum and popped back to one knee, lips quirking with a fresh grin and a repentant shake of her noggin.



“Alright,” Rebecca said as she pushed her way back up to her feet, soon matching pace with Hopkins as the two resumed circling, Summer readjusting her tight-fitting shorts and resisting the urge to bite her bottom lip in a bout of nervous energy. “Hard to get it is.”



By that same unspoken signal, the duo surged forwards once again, slapping together in a firm shoulder and elbow tie and up and struggling for position, neither young woman giving an inch. With their foreheads almost pressed up together, they matched each other’s gaze…



…before Rebecca darted her lips forwards and locked them about Summers!!



Startled, the Supergirl of Sheffield’s bright blue eyes opened wide as Reigns not only opened a new front on their grapple, but also immediately took control of it, Hopkins experiencing an unexpected heady rush and her posture slackening. Rebecca took full advantage, deftly dismantling the blondes guard and, (somewhat reluctantly) breaking the lip lock so that she could take her turn Hip Tossing her opponent up and over through the air!



Still feeling a little flustered, Summer landed with a jolt across her taunt booty, wincing as a spasm ran up the length of her spine before she pushed up to one knee. Unfortunately, the Havok Hellion was right on her, the raven-haired renegade snuggling in close to her back and, towering over her penitent foe, snapped shut a deft Sleeper!



Again, Summer’s eyes opened wide, feeling a strong bicep lock tight about her throat, her arms instinctively rising up to try and pry that constricting limb loose. As Reign flexed, however, adjusting her posture to bore down on the blondes back, and there was to be no give in her embrace, Summer tugging for release to no avail. It didn’t take long for the effects to become visible, her cheeks turning crimson and a groan slipping free from her softly parting lips but, even as her struggles seemed fruitless and her body trembled, she would not give in to panic.



Instead, she gave up on trying to pry her way free, Hopkin’s vision already clouding, and instead brought her own hands together before defiantly scrunching up her nose. With an audible grunt, she threw her right arm backwards and SLAMMED her elbow against Rebecca’s ribs, earning a pained curse from her assailant. Summer did it again, connecting a little more solidly and Reign gritted her teeth before, having found her range, Hopkins pooled her resolve and THREW back her most solid elbow strike yet!



Rebecca yelped, her ribcage protesting the abuse and she let go of her fellow Brit, preparing to back peddle away and create a little distance…



…Summer, however, was having none of it, adrenaline pumping as she caught a retreating Reigns in her grip on her way back up to vertical, sweeping her up off her feet and carrying her up into a Cross Body Press. Bracing her posture, the British Bombshell then set all jaws to dropping as, with a heart stirring shout, she POWERED an astonished Rebecca skywards with a Military Press!!



The FAWNatics roared with approval as she held the Mistress of Mayhem aloft, even turning on the spot for a second before letting Reign’s drop over six feet to the canvas!!



MILITARY PRESS SLAM: @3:00

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dPEWMiR6ERw



Rebecca landed with a THUMP and a great gasp of pained air, following a panicked shout and, after she bounced an inch off the deck, Reign displayed the better part of valour by rolling with the momentum to make her escape. She swiftly arrived at one corner and propped herself up against the turnbuckles, gazing back up at Summer who stood at centre ring.



In full voice, the FAWNatics were chanting…



“MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!! MADE! FOR!! THIS!!!”



…and Summer, flushed with exertion and looking glorious, bit down on her bottom lip and, feeling both heady and little playful, matched Rebecca’s gaze and popped into her crowd pleasing, jaunty little bicep flex.



“How about just calling me Summer?” she suggested as she stood in the ascendency, the packed arena eating it up.



“Oh yeah,” Reign couldn’t contain her burgeoning attraction, “I’m tapping that.”



Meanwhile, outside the ring, Fiona’s indignation could not be measured, the Phoenician fuming in silence after she peeled herself off the concrete, one hand braced against the barricades as she stumbled along its length. She was too busy musing on what vicious vengeance she would inflict upon Scarlet to initially realise that her path was about to be blocked.



Standing before her was an especially burly looking stagehand, the gentlemen towering over her with his arms folded and barring her path. Phoenix was about to demand to know the meaning of this before she saw past his broad physique to the commentary table, Lydia sat there aloof and with her stems folded, granting Fiona only half a disdainful look before, with an absent wave of her hand, the Penthouse Belle implied that this particular area was ‘off limits’.



If Fiona’s mood had been curdling before, it was positively foul now, the violet clad athlete about to unleash the entirety of her scorn on the man before her. She didn’t have chance to get the words out, however, not as his eyes opened wide and he chose to ignore all of Lethbridge’s commands as he hastily dived to one side, Phoenix quickly finding out why as she turned about and ATE the entirety of a gut-wrenching Spear!!



Fiona was damn near impaled as Scarlet threw herself through the air, SLAMMING her shoulder into Phoenix’s sculptured tummy and driving most of the air out of her body. With so much momentum behind them, the Olympian Incarnate was ripped off her feet, both herself and the Miniature Mauler continuing to tumble backwards until they CRASHED into the panicked frame of the still sitting Lydia!!



Several cries filled the air as three young women became hopelessly entangled, limbs and chairs scattering in all directions before, following a great deal of noise, they came to a stop, the FAWNatics enrapt with the carnage.



Scarlet was first to pop free from the mess that she had created, looking a little frazzled but otherwise unfazed, pumping her little fist up into the air upon receiving a fresh cheer from the FAWNatics. She exhaled deeply, her blood pumping quickly with a grin on her expression, hopping up and down as she regathered her bearings.



“Oh hey,” she declared upon spotting a dazed Lethbridge still splayed out on the concrete. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” Before she could turtle up, Scarlet hopped down to straddle the Princess of Privilege, sitting astride her hips and began to rain several short, sharp punches to the aristocrat’s noggin!!



As satisfying as it felt, the Youngest of the Sinclair’s would later be lectured on the finer points of minding her surroundings, a freshly risen Phoenix snatching her by the scruff of her neck while she was distracted.



Scarlet protested, scrappy as always but, when Fiona also grabbed her by her belt, it was a short pace before she was being tossed about and SLAMMED shoulder first into a barricade! The little brunette cried out as she felt her bones rattle, but the French Native refused to let go, continuing to carry her down the line until they reached the apron.



Lining her cargo up, Phoenix swung Sinclair again, spinning the smaller young woman about to WHACK her against the hardest part of the ring with a crunch! This time, Scarlet GRUNTED her displeasure, her posture growing slack as a vengeful Fiona continued to carry her like luggage, the brunette’s toes dragging across the concrete as they approached the steel steps.



The FAWNatics, not liking where this was going, voiced the collective protests as Phoenix lined Sinclair up, stepped back, and the SWUNG her opponent like a pendulum, DRIVING the crown of the girl’s noggin directly into the unyielding furniture with a CLANG!!



Scarlet was flaccid in her grasp now, arms and legs dangling limp down towards the concrete, swaying from Fiona’s grip before her leaden frame was dropped to the floor.



Stepping away and stretching her arms out wide, Phoenix leaned her head back and inhaled a long and measured breath, turning slowly on the spot to parade herself before a heckling crowd. Olympian Incarnate, she was beguiling to behold, but her visible contempt for all she surveyed soured the heart of even the most smitten of spectators. With an upturn of her nose, the violet clad warrior turned her attention back to the shellshocked Sinclair, first nudging the girl with the toe of her boot before delivering stiffer kicks, bullying the smaller young woman to sitting with her back to the steel steps.



Fiona began to backpedal, focusing her indignation towards one very specific target, measuring the distance before…



…she was cut off at the pass, the voices of the FAWNatics raising in a sudden cheer as, almost out of no-where, Summer burst into view after sprinting across the canvas and diving into a baseball slide. Beneath the bottom ropes, she NAILED Phoenix with the soles of her boots, and the Elegant Empress released a sharp cry as she recoiled for the blow impacting her ribs!



Out of control, Fiona stumbled several paces before she was forced to release a second, pained shout, her hip cracking against the side of the Spanish Announce Table! With a grimace, she pushed herself away…



…only to be met by an extended limb, Hopkins appearing before her and connecting with a clothesline that rocked the French Native clean off her feet, sending her tumbling head over heels across the table. Battered and bruised by the broadcast equipment as she rolled over, Phoenix didn’t stop until she unceremoniously landed in the laps of the Commentators, the Gentlemen in question astonished to have a stunning young woman deposited there.



“Sorry,” Summer apologised to them immediately, momentarily sheepish as she tucked a lose hair behind her ear and wracked her memory for what she hoped was the right translation. “Siento?”



She was relieved to discover that they seemed to understand her, but that didn’t seem too much help with the unescapable reality that they were well and truly tangled up with a spitting furious Fiona. Caught in a bout of indecision, she briefly considered helping…



…before Rebecca NAILED her across the back of her head with a STIFF elbow!



Stunned from the blow, and with the FAWNatics booing, the blindsided Summer flopped forwards over the top of the Spanish Announce Table. She blinked a few times, feeling dizzy and, as she lay there, Reign took a chance to fully appreciate Hopkins upturned, firm buttocks now that they were so conveniently withing reach, and she couldn’t help herself but deliver a swift spank, squeezing one of those forbidden cheeks for good measure.



Summer released a surprised gasp as her whole body stiffened following the uninvited grope, her senses clearing slightly as she started to push up from the table. She didn’t get far under her own power, the Havok Hellion tugging her the rest of the way up before she was ready and, grasping her new rival’s shoulders, proceeded to SHOVE Hopkins backwards in a swift retreat until the small of her back CRACKED against the edge of the unforgiving apron.



She released a heart-breaking yelp as a tremor ran down the length of her long legs, and Summer would have slumped over to one side if Rebecca didn’t force her to stay upright.



“Sorry to interrupt,” Reigns shrugged slightly before raising her right hand up high. After a moment’s hesitation, she brought it swinging back down, delivering a stinging CHOP on the centre of Hopkin’s chest, knocking just a little more starch out of the blonde’s posture as she gasped with a pained wince. “But I’m not done flirting with you yet.”



“Is… is this…” Summer muttered slightly as she was looking a bit shaky, attempting to push back on her fellow Brits shoulders without much success. “Is this really the best time?”



“Why not?” Reign questioned whilst leaning in, ducking low for just a moment to slide her right arm between the Girl of Steel’s open thighs, bracing herself as she wrapped her left across the blonde’s shoulders. With a burst of effort, she swept the crowd favourite off her feet before muscling her up into a Crossbody Press, carrying her above the concrete whilst Hopkins, in no position to resist, could only shake her head in protest of what could be coming next. “Where else am I going to meet a nice girl like you?”



Picking her spot, Rebecca charged forwards, picking up speed with every pace before she forcibly wrapped the small of the defenceless Summer’s back about a steel post with a WHACK!! Hopkins yelped, her voice filling the arena and breaking hearts, twitching with sharp spasms in her new rival’s secure grip as her right leg kicked erratically.



The blonde grimaced as she both tried and failed to slip free, Hopkin’s only able to shake her head slightly as she felt Reign adjust her grip, lifting her cargo a little higher as she stepped back. Pausing only so that the nearest camera could get the best shot, Rebecca dropped down to one knee, following up the abuse to the crowd favourites spine by bending her the wrong way over her posted joint!!



The impact was as sudden as it was sharp and Summer couldn’t help but release a second yelp, the small of her back planted and across the length of a firm thigh, and forcibly jolted to its full extension. With her breathing now laboured and face a mask of anguish, a fresh moan slipped free from her torso before she was rolled off of the inhumane pedestal and sent dropping the short distance to the concrete.



Hopkins lay there without attempting to get up, one cheek pressed down against the floor as she closed her eyes in her efforts to recover.



Satisfied that her fellow Brit, at least for the moment, would be staying grounded, Rebecca swatted the young woman of her affections on her pert buttocks before stroking her on the shoulder.



“How about you sit this one out for a bit?” Reign suggested, not at all averse to seeing the Supergirl of Sheffield laid out in front of her. “Let me clear the field a bit, and we can get back to a little me and you time, sound good?”



Summer didn’t answer, too busy biting her bottom lip and groaning, both trying and failing to get back up.



“Good girl,” Rebecca leant forwards, whispering into the blonde’s ear. “You should let me make it up to you.”



Getting back up, the Mistress of Mayhem stretched out her full frame as she turned about, her eyes lighting up and her lips quirking as she spotted Scarlet, the youngest woman in the fight still sat backwards against the steel steps.



“Well, hello stunty,” Reign condescended, feeling like all of her dreams were coming true as she hunkered low. “Bad day?” she questioned, gauging the distance between them. “How about I make it a little bit worse?”



Without further word, she shot off at a sprint, closing the distance between the athletes swiftly before she brought her right leg up…



…and Sinclair ducked to the side, neatly avoiding the charging Big Boot and forcing the wide-eyed Rebecca to SLAM her own foot into the unyielding steel steps!! Reign released a sharp cry as a shockwave ran the full length of her overextended leg, and pain flooded her senses as she cursed with pained yowls, stumbling away from the misjudged impact and clutching her suddenly numb thigh.



She didn’t quite fall over, mostly hopping on one foot as she paced haphazardly along the length of the apron, hissing and spitting as she tried to bring life back to her leg.



Scarlet was looking much more lively, not entirely sure how much she had missed but, giving that peeps still seemed to be hurling themselves about (and trying to kick her in the head), she assumed the match was still ongoing. Getting up to her feet and briefly rubbing the fresh lump on her head, she placed her palms down on the edge of the steel steps, braced herself and then, with a surprisingly loud Warcry, the Barroom Brit started to charge forwards with the furniture in front of her, using it like a plough as she made a B-Line for Rebecca.



The taller Brit just barely saw the danger coming before the steel steps were SLAMMED into her one, remaining good knee with a CLANG, Reign’s abrupt cry almost soundless as she was whacked off her feet. First, she fell forwards, bouncing off the furniture before rebounding backwards to land on the cold concrete in a heap.



Scarlet climbed up to stand on top of the steps, looking pleased with herself, dusting off her hands as she looked down at the toppled Rebecca.



“Tall enough for you now?” she queried with a wink before, after a little hop, the Babe of Brawl leapt from her perch and led the way back down to earth with her right knee!! Dropping the joint square against Reign’s taunt gut, she forced a great GUFF of expelled air to eject from Rebecca’s folding body, Sinclair almost pinning the bigger girl to the concrete beneath her one hundred and ten pounds coming in for a landing!



Scarlet rolled with the momentum before bouncing back up to her feet, swinging her hands up onto the air to whip the FAWNatics into an appropriate sounding frenzy, answering their shouts with one of her own. With chocolate curls bouncing atop her shoulders, the youngest of the Sinclair’s returned to Rebecca, puffing out her cheeks as she did her very best to muscle the five-foot seven athlete back up to her feet. Being five foot two herself, this proved to be trickier than Scarlet had hoped, her cheeks puffing out even further after she finally shovelled her winded foe up onto the apron.



Stepping back for a moment to catch her breath, Sinclair inhaled a deep breath and shook her head, taking a moment to tentatively paw at the still growing bump on her noggin. It was tender to the touch, but she could live with it, at least until she could find an appropriate distraction later.



In the time it took to regather her bearings, Rebecca was pulling herself up to vertical as well, using the ring ropes as assistance as she tentatively attempted to put weight on either of her protesting knees. She didn’t get far before Scarlet leapt up onto the apron to stand in front of her, snagging a hold of the other Brit by her noggin and tugging her forwards into a tight Front Headlock.



Sinclair raised her free hand up high as a clenched first, whooping out a Warcry before she prepared to DRIVE the Havok Hellion crown first into the deck…



…only for Reign to deny her the hellacious DDT, the raven-haired warrior instead gritting her teeth, bracing her posture and setting her palms on Scarlet’s unsuspecting hips. With a shout of her own, Rebecca suddenly powered a wide-eyed Sinclair high up into the air as she stood up to vertical, lifting the Lightweight up overhead before tossing her back down to the canvas with a slam!!



Scarlet howled as she hit the hardest part of the ring across her shoulders and a worrying angle of her neck, crashing back down to earth from a great height on the wrong end of a bone rattling descent. She bounced off the ringside and flopped over the edge, dropping to the concrete in a shuddering heap.



As for Reign, she fell backwards as well, landing on her buttocks and remaining sat on the apron, grasping onto the ring ropes as her knees throbbed. She grimaced for a few seconds, unwelcome sensations shooting up and down her long legs before gritting her teeth.



Elsewhere, Summer was scraping herself off the concrete, pushing her way up onto her knees and, with a pained grimace, she cradled the small of her throbbing back. The FAWNatics closest to her had begun clapping, bringing their hands together in support, Hopkins nodding back to them in appreciation before…



…Phoenix came up behind her and, with a sneer, caught her up tightly in a STIFF Sleeper!!



For a second time tonight, Summer found herself in the crippling embrace, eyes of bright blue snapping open as her whole, kneeling posture stiffened, instinctively tugging on the arm that was wrapped about her throat. She bucked when Fiona applied further pressure, adding a swift bit of grinding torque to her embrace that forced Hopkins to quiver, the British Bombshell in danger of capitulating quickly.



She responded immediately, swinging her right elbow backwards to connect with the ribcage of the Elegant Empress, but Summer connected with significantly less power than she had done in her first escape. So much so, Phoenix was able to ride out a further two blows to her exposed side whilst displaying little discomfort, piling on the pressure whilst Hopkins arms, lacking the reserves to continue, slowly slumped down to sway idly by her sides.



Summer was flagging, her breathing becoming shallow as she began to sway slightly, her peepers fluttering to half lidded as her expression was growing slack. She fought to stay conscious, moaning as Fiona delivered a fresh twist of her neck, the blonde grimacing as her lips parted.



“They call you Supergirl?” Phoenix scoffed, leaning down on the increasingly submissive blondes back, taking advantage of every ounce of leverage that she now possessed. She curled her lip, further displaying contempt. “You are nothing more than a false idol,” she insisted, adjusting her grip just slightly to constrict her secured Sleeperhold even tighter, taking delight in the fresh shivers of her surprisingly strong foe. “A hollow athlete that does not belong in the same ri…”



Her taunt would remain forever unfinished, Hopkins scrunching up her nose in a bout of determination and, digging deep for reserves she reached back to hook both of her foe’s thighs. With a cry of support from the FAWNatics, the British Bombshell powered her way up to standing and carried Phoenix up into the air like a backpack, bracing herself before charging into reverse and SLAMMING the Phoenician spine first into the apron!!



Fiona yelped as the small of her back lit up with fresh agony and, almost immediately, she let go of her grip about Hopkin’s throat, unable to retain the hold as she was dropped back down onto her boot leather. She swayed on her feet, legs feeling numb, leaning backwards against the ring whilst Summer, feeling flush and inhaling deep breaths of air, stumbled forwards.



Both young women needed a few seconds to recover and, with a fresh sneer, it was phoenix who was first to take action, ignoring the protests of her spine in order to lock back up with a still flagging Hopkins. The moment she put her hands on the blonde, however, did the Brit turn around, sling one of the surprised Phoenix’s arms over her shoulders, encircled her hips and then, with a proud shout, swept Fiona up off her boot leather and powered her up and over with a beautiful Backdrop Suplex!!



BACKDROP SUPLEX

www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NkjJfrD2dA



The Olympian Incarnate GRUNTED after she was DROPPED down onto the all too cold concrete across her shoulders and bounced away from the harsh landing to roll all the way up to sitting. She swayed there, looking woozy and operating on autopilot whilst Summer was the complete opposite, looking more alive with each passing second.



Taking some advice from her sponsor, Hopkins fought down a fresh bout of insecurity as she made sure her booty was facing the closest camera before she neatly snapped the hem of her shorts back into place. She felt a little naughty, but the crowd ate it up, and she couldn’t help but be a little giddy following the whistles of appreciation.



“It’s pronounced Supergirl,” Summer proclaimed with emphasis on the crowd gifted title, albeit still a little breathlessly. She hunkered ready a low (not quite realising that she was now inadvertently swishing her pert booty right at the still, very attentive camera), as a wincing and bleary-eyed Fiona was fighting her way back up to her feet.



“And unlike you, as an athlete,” Hopkins continued with Phoenix stepping forwards and Summer pouncing to meet her, spinning on the spot after a swift step and sweeping one of her long legs up and around through the air. She WHACKED Fiona across her shoulders with a stunning Leg Lariat, one that damn near took the other young woman’s head off and sent her tumbling right back down to the floor.



“I’m all natural”



LEG LARIAT

www.youtube.com/watch?v=jukc9NywmD8



Meanwhile, the opposite side of the ring, Rebecca was busy recollecting Scarlet, somewhat unceremoniously tossing the smallest young woman in the contest back into the squared circle, following after her groggy looking foe a second or two after.



The Official, for his part, actually looked faintly relieved that someone had finally decided to take the action back inside the ring. Strictly speaking, there was nothing illegal about what anyone was doing outside of the ring ropes, given the nature of the match, but things rarely remained civil when their charges left the boarders of the canvas.



It didn’t take long for Reign to zero back in on her opponent, crossing the distance across the ring between them in short order but, stubborn as a mule, she found the Youngest of the Sinclair’s pushing her way up to one knee.



“Aww,” Rebecca taunted, swatting Scarlet across the back of her head, “who’s a feisty little munchkin? You are!” Snagging the Miniature Mauler her hair, she began to bully her foes diminutive stature back to fully vertical…



…only for the little brunette to swat her grasping hand away and, throwing her head forwards, managed to CRACK their heads together with a wicked looking headbutt!!



HEADBUTT

www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPU0qCNDtMc



Both recoiled, stumbling backwards, the FAWNatics collectively wincing in sympathy as they clutched at their features, the duo swaying this way and that as they exchanged deeply personal (and creatively rude) curses. They went on to recover more or less at the same time, shaking their noggins and stalking forwards, blinking in an effort to clear their respective visions…



…and Reign was the first one to do it, taking the wind right back out of Sinclair’s sails with a STIFF club of her forearm across the smaller girl’s cheek!!



With her eyes flashing vacant, Scarlet teetered on the spot and would likely have fallen forwards had Rebecca not decided to support her. She was far from being altruistic however, grasping the weary brunette in front of her by the base of her neck, holding her stead before winding up and BEATING!! her across her chest with a FIERCE forearm, the WHACK of the collision echoing out across the arena.



Sinclair GUFFED out a groan as she remained rooted on the spot, now being held up by her foes other arm before Reign followed up her first blow by then BEATING Scarlet across her back with a second meaty CRACK!! Sinclair grooooooaned again, unable to contain it, the force of the impact sending her folding forwards.



Rebecca, however, was only just warming up to her tune, the Mistress of Mayhem snagging her fellow Brits neck yet again and tugging her back up to vertical. She repeated the process a duo of more times, a twin set of forearm strikes battering her opponents front and then back, almost quite literally beating her senseless as many suspected that Scarlet was already out on her feet.



CLUBBING FOREARMS: @6:13

www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9mmoLfuKV0



Reign had apparently come to the same conclusion and so, turning Sinclair about to face front towards the hard camera, the raven-haired warrior slipped both of her arms beneath her fellow Brits, linked her fingers together behind the base of the young woman’s neck and then locked in a FIRM Full Nelson!



Seemingly woken up a little by the sudden pressure being exerted down on her spine, Scarlet did stiffen from her head right down to her toe in a brief effort to escape. It didn’t last long, Rebecca twisting her captive sharply to one side with a fierce jostle before repeating the process to the left, the already drained lightweight quickly hanging limp in her grip and swaying to her whims. Her eyes were already half lidded before Reign exerted one last, savage flex down hard against the base of her neck before releasing one half of the Full Nelson.



Turning to one side, with Sinclair still secure, the Havok Hellion dropped down to one knee and whipped her captive backwards, SLAMMING the Babe of Brawl across her posted thigh in a BRUTAL Backbreaker!!



Scarlet jerked from the collision and released a pained grunt, her whole body now flaccid as, for just a second more, she was propped up by Rebecca. Reign completed Sinclair’s disastrous descent to the canvas by NAILING her with one final forearm across her chest, colliding with a meaty impact that damn near drove all of the remaining air from her petite body.



LAST WORD

www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kNXiQK2wes



Released, Scarlet slumped to the deck and stayed there, easy pickings for Reign to drop down atop her, press one hand across her cheek and hook one of her athletic stems, prompting the Official to drop down to the canvas for a pinfall.



ONE!



TWO!!



THREE!!!



The bell chimed less than a second later, and the Announcer returned to his duties from ringside.



“Scarlet Sinclair has been eliminated,” he declared with a great deal of ceremony, the FAWNatics voicing their disappointment as Rebecca tossed her fellow Brits limp leg aside.



“Now then,” Reign rolled her shoulders to work out some kinks as she blinked a few times. “Where did I leave my wife to be?”



Not a moment later, Fiona was rolled back into the ring, quickly followed by Summer climbing up onto the apron. Soon enough, all three remaining athletes were back in the squared circle, and Phoenix was pushing her way up onto her hands and knees. She almost made it back to boot leather under her own power, but Hopkins was there to intercept, booting her in her trim tummy to empty her of air and fold her forwards.



So positioned, Summer tugged her forwards into a Front Headlock, slung one of the platinum blonde’s arms up and over her shoulders and snagged her by the belt of her shorts. Inhaling a deep, calming breath, Hopkins powered the Elegant Empress up until she was hanging upside down and suspended vertical with the canvas, the tips of her boots pointed up to the rafters.



Summer held her there, much to the delight of the FAWNatics, the beloved Girl of Steel displaying her awesome power before she picked her moment to release. Fiona dropped for a heart skipping second before Hopkins caught her, quickly encircling the other young woman’s hips and snugging her in close before the blonde DROPPED down to sitting and landed on her much-converted booty, NAILING the crown of the Phoenician’s noggin into the plywood with a gorgeous Vertical Suplex Piledriver!!



FROM SUMMER WITH LOVE

www.youtube.com/watch?v=syNv610tAc8



What was left of Fiona’s senses were knocked into next month as her skull was spiked into the canvas, her whole body turning rigid before she slumped in an obliterated heap between Summer’s open thighs. Hopkins caught one of the athlete’s long legs before it could flop lifelessly to the mat, and compacted the Frenchwomen down into a tight ball.



Again, the Official was on point to begin his count…



ONE!



TWO!!



THREE!!!



…and this time, the FAWNatics cheered as the Announcer confirmed what they all knew.



“Fiona Phoenix has been eliminated!!”



And then there was two.



Neither wasted any time in getting back up and, as Summer adjusted her shorts and hunkered low, the duo began circling, the two caught each other’s gaze.



“Round two?” Hopkins suggested, keeping herself poised and ready to move forwards, fighting to keep her breaths steady and nipping her bottom lip. It was a habit she couldn’t break, and Rebecca couldn’t bring herself to stop watching.



“I’m up for rounds three, four, five, take your pick,” Reign shot back with her crooked grin. “Just tell me how many times you want to be worked over, and I’ll step up to the plate.”



Summer cleared her throat, not sure how to counter, her cheeks tinting crimson so she opted to let her actions speak for her. Hopkins shot forwards and Rebecca met her advance, the duo resuming their lock up with a straining of young flesh, flexing for control of their competitive embrace. For a moment, it looked like the Girl of Steel would be driven down to one knee, but she rebounded with a fresh surge of effort that caught Reign on the back foot.



With and shout, Summer was able to break down Rebecca’s guard and spun the raven-haired warrior about, quickly tucking in close to her back and wrapping her arms around her waist. Clasping her hands together, she briefly exerted a little pressure, rewarded with a guff of air escaping her foes body and, after bracing herself, Hopkins suddenly hauled her Reign off her feet and powered her up and over in a sweeping arc, completely a deft German Suplex!



Reign GRUNTED as she shoulders were PLANTED against the mat, her stems flipping so that her buttocks were pointed upwards towards the rafters, the Mistress of Mayhem rolled up into a ball as Summer retained her grip about her waist and popped herself up into a sleek bridge.



BRIDGING GERMAN SUPLEX

www.youtube.com/watch?v=YoT1SymmUDk



The Official began his count.



ONE!



TWO!!



Rebecca kicked out, earning the brief ire of the crowd as both Summer and herself were equally quick in getting back up to their respective feet. They connected once again in a fierce lock up, almost forehead to forehead as they struggled and strained. Again, Hopkins was almost driven down onto one knee…



…and this time, Reign was able to take advantage, the Havok Hellion tugging the blonde jostling with her for position back up to her feet before she was ready, and yanking her off balance. With Summer experiencing momentary panic, Rebecca spun the Supergirl of Sheffield around and locked her up tight in her dreaded Full Nelson!!



Her arms slipped under her adversary’s shoulders before she clasped her palms together at the base of the crowd favourites neck, robbing the young woman of almost all of her leverage and immediately began to apply pressure to the blonde’s spine. The effect was almost immediate, Hopkins groaning in her grasp as her long legs turned a little rubbery, Reign twisting her captive SHARPLY to the left with a firm jostle before doing likewise to the right, wringing loose a great of Summer’s starch and expertly draining her of power.



Reign brought Hopkins back to standing up straight, flexing her biceps to apply even more torque on her soul sapping submission and Hopkin’s, to the horror of those watching, had become rag dolled in Rebecca’s grasp in shockingly short order.



Satisfied that the hard camera had received a good look at the gorgeous bombshell dangling limp in her embrace, the raven-haired warrior released half of her nelson and stood to one side. She dropped sharply to one knee and, with Summer still hooked, she whipped her fellow Brit along with her to drive her spine first across her rigid, posted thigh for a ruthless backbreaker!



LAST WORD

www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kNXiQK2wes



As the second victim tonight of the ruthless finisher, Hopkins released a short, pained grunt as her athletic frame jerked, turning stiff for a second before she slumped into a curl over her opponent’s unflinching leg. She managed to moan slightly as Reign snagged her by her hair, Rebecca lifting up head up for a second just so that she could SLAM her back down against the deck with a stiff, CLUBBING forearm to her barely rising chest.



Summer answered that heavy blow with a deflated groan and, when she splayed out across the canvas in a starfish, Reign threw herself atop the leggy blonde and clutched at her wrists. Planting the young woman’s hands above her own head, Rebecca lay atop her fellow Brit bosom to bosom, entangling their stems as she gazed into the girl’s glassy expression.



As the Official dropped down to count, Reign brought her lips down to press against Hopkins unguarded own in time with the palm strikes of the man in black and white, indulging her impending victory with a trio of stolen kisses…



ONCE!



TWICE!!



THRI…



Summer kicked out, blinking several times as she inhaled deeply, rolling over onto one side as the FAWNatics cheered her escape. Rebecca was still straddling her hips, but made no effort to immediately pin her again.



“You…you could….” Hopkin’s exhaled, rolling back over onto her shoulders with a rapid rise and fall of her pert bosom, blinking a few more times as she tried to clear her head. “You could at least buy me dinner first.”



“What can I say,” Reign smirked, dismounting her perch as she grabbed a wincing Summer by her bright hair, bullying the young woman towards her feet. “I like to start with desert.”



Just as a wobbly looking Hopkins found her boot leather…



…. she suddenly surged the rest of the way back up to vertical, unleashing a heroic cry as both adrenaline and sheer, stubborn pride kicking in to give her a second lease of life. Summer not only swung for the fences, but the Girl of Steel connected, her forearm CLOCKING Rebecca right beneath her chin with a European Uppercut for the ages, rocking the Mistress of Mayhem right back on her heels and damn near turning her lights out.



She didn’t quite topple over though, which was ideal for Summer in the long run, the weary blonde almost falling over herself before she caught herself. The Brit did likewise with Reign, grasping the groggy grappler and folding her forwards, pulling her into a firm Front Headlock. After slinging one of her foe’s arms over her shoulders, she grabbed a hold of Rebecca’s belt and braced herself, preparing to…



WHACK!!



As one, the FAWNatics cried fowl as Fiona Phoenix, who had never left the ring, CRACKED a blindsided Hopkins with Reign’s Kendo Stick!! Summer yelped, immediately letting go of her opponent, wincing as she bit down HARD on her bottom lip and almost dropped down to the one knee. A second, vicious CRACK from the kendo stick convinced her to exactly that, and Hopkins was now gasping, the skin on her back screaming from the violent whipping it was receiving.



Fiona, a sneer on her lips and seething, lined Summer up and CRACKED her a third time, connecting across the back of the blonde’s head which left the young woman shellshocked and dropping forwards onto her palms.



Tossing the stolen weapon aside, and ignoring the protests of the Official, Phoenix back peddled several paces and lined the Brit up. The Phoenician was poised, vengeful in her aspect, seething at being ‘undermined’ in her debute for FAWN, her eyes only for…



“HEY!!” a beaten and bruised Scarlet spoke up from outside the squared circle, demanding the attention of the haughty, Paris Native. The Babe of Brawl had been receiving attentions from onsite medics for the last several minutes, her senses cleared, she was dead set on keeping a promise.



“Got your stuff!” Sinclair declared, ignoring (or perhaps because of) the duo of bumps to her head, leaning against the apron before she snagged Fiona’s extravagantly tailored robe for her own.



Phoenix’s reaction was immediate, but even as the incensed athlete was dropping back down to the canvas to roll rapidly out the ring, the Miniature Mauler was already doing a runner, stolen property in her grasp as she darted up the ramp. Surprisingly swift, she disappeared beyond the curtains before the Olympian Incarnate could catch up with her, all manner of threats following as she too vanished backstage.



Once again, Summer was left along with Rebecca, but now Reign was the only one still on her feet. The Mistress of Mayhem wasn’t entirely certain as to just what had just transpired but, whilst cradling both her side and her chin, she found an ailing Hopkins before her and decided it didn’t matter.



Marching on forwards, she reached down and wrapped both of her arms about the penitent blondes quivering tummy, leaning on top of her as she delivered a squeeze to keep the other young woman pliant. Her fellow Brit moaned but made no effort to pull away, and Rebecca took that small sign of a surrender as a green light to continue, bracing her posture before released a long shout, powering all one hundred and twenty-eight pounds of British Bombshell up off the deck.



With a heave, she muscled Summer into the air to sit astride her shoulders, keeping her flagging foe there for just half a second before SLINGING her back down, DUMPING head and shoulders first against an unyielding set of Turnbuckles via a devastating Bucklebomb!!



DEADLIFT BUCKLE BOMB

www.youtube.com/watch?v=GgAosC-pAIw



Already reeling, Hopkins was damn near knocked senseless, her vision fading as she GRUNTED from the impact, slumping down to sitting on the middle buckle as her arms draped limply over the top ropes. Her noggin rolled forwards on her shoulders as she moaned in defeat, scarcely still awake with Reign standing tall before her.



With Summer now dazed, Rebecca grasped her by both wrists and pulled her free from the corner, tugging her towards centre ring before, with a sharp jerk, she forced Hopkin’s to body up against her as Reign slipped her arms snugly about the blonde’s unresponsive slim waist. Hesitating for just one moment to savour the anticipation, the Mistress of Mayhem flexed her strong biceps and snapped her trap shut, encircling the Girl of Steel in a FIERCE Bearhug!!



Summer GASPED, her eyes opening wide as her chin was perched on her new rival’s shoulder, her body stiffening as she was overpowered. Her senses still clouded she, none the less, tried valiantly to break free. Her efforts, however, were found wanting, her body already robbed of much of it vaunted power. Hopkins palms pressed fruitlessly against her foes tensed biceps and her long legs straitened to no avail, no amount of the gentle writhing she was still able to summon enabling her to find even an inch of room to escape.



Rebecca had it all, and she ruthlessly used it, tightening her constriction to maximum effect and rhythmically driving from Summer’s body her last remaining stamina. The blonde within her grasp moaned in time with the practiced flex, capitulating a little further with each pained exhale, and Reign’s heart could not have been beating faster, unable to resist wrapping the Supergirl of Sheffield up even tighter into her embrace, inhaling her opposites golden hair and intoxicated by her proximity.



“How about we call it?” the Havok Hellion enquired, methodical in applying steady pressure, not letting up now that she finally had Summer swooning. “You throw in the towel, we put this behind us and we celebrate my impending victory at Spring Break?”



Hopkins didn’t answer, releasing only soft moans, the blonde wincing as she struggled to hold on, succumbing by staggered inches. She still would not surrender, even with her left arm slumping to hang down by her side.



Rebecca hadn’t thought it possible, but Summer’s stubborn resilience was making her even more turned on, a crooked grin finding its way to her features as, after bracing herself, she SQUEEEEEZED all the more!



A short, loud, heady GROAN of despair shot free from the Brits body as her whole frame, however briefly, stiffened from head to toe, her cheek popping free from Reigns firm shoulder so that the two could gaze into each other’s eyes. A long moooooan of capitulation soon followed as, first, her right arm joined her left in swaying lifeless by her side, palms tapping against her own thighs as her peepers fought to stay open. Her shoulders followed second before her whole frame collapsed, wavering in her foes grasp as Rebecca’s persistent, insistent pulses drained her of her last remaining strength.



The Official moved in…



“Don’t,” Reigns stopped him with but a word, her eyes only for Summer’s. “She’s still got a little left, I want it all.”



Hopkins blinked a few times, fighting to hold on, wincing for a few seconds before her expression slackened. She slowly exhaled one final breath…



…before she suddenly darted her lips forwards, and locked them about Rebecca’s own!!



Reign was not the only to be surprised by the sudden joust, her eyes opening wide for a second, the FAWNatics sitting up straight in their seats as they gasped. Many started to hoot and holler the unexpected display and, recovering quickly, Rebecca surrendered to her lust and returned the kiss tenfold. Far more experienced in the art of seduction, she quickly dismantled Summer’s offensive, pushing the weary blonde back onto the defensive, before she quickly overran those barricades as well. In a handful of seconds she took full, domineering control of the lip lock, the British Bombshell now succumbing to her in every way possible, rag dolled in her grasp and accepting all of her advances.



Rebecca held nothing back as she ate Hopkins up, right up until their lips broke apart and, feeling flustered herself, the raven-haired warrior inhaled a deep, heady breath. At the same time, Summer exhaled a soft sigh, reeling from the conflicting sensations running rampant through her drained body and her head lolled backwards on her shoulders, fully exposing the sleek curve of her long neck.



There was no resisting it, Reign darting her head in and locking her lips tight about the blonde’s cool, supple throat, holding Hopkins close as she suckled for all it was worth, forcibly, loud and refusing to let go. Summer’s bosom hiked sharply as she GASPED a fresh breath, her eyes snapping open wide before fluttering to half lidded, her athletic frame swaying this way and that as straggled, wounded moans slipped from her lips as she offered no more resistance to Rebecca having her way, truly a damsel in distress.



The FAWNatics could not look away…



…nor was Rebecca paying attention to what she was doing, so wrapped up was she in indulging her baser instincts, she was oblivious to the fact that she was no longer squeezing the life out Hopkins, but instead merely holding her possessively.



Summer’s eyes started to flutter open, wincing as she was slowly coming too, her heart beating quickly as she hung limp in her rival’s grasp as her fellow Brit worried ever more insistently at her throat. She bit down on her bottom lip, her chest hiking with sharp groans as Rebecca had her way, enduring the sensory assault as best she could as, with no constriction to rob her of breath, her strength was gradually returning.



With a suggestive moooooan, the Supergirl of Sheffield closed her eyes and leaned her head further back, inviting even more attentions across her unexplored neck as she exercised every ounce of her will to not just flat out succumb to her foes experienced wiles.



Finally, after what seemed like several minutes, the Mistress of Mayhem released her near frenzied lip lock about the blonde’s throat, ceasing in her greedy suckling with deep, heady breaths. She jostled the limp Hopkins in her grip so she could look at her glassy expression, the young woman’s cheeks flushed a bright crimson and practically glowing.



Reign was still hungry.



“Now tell me you didn’t enjoy…”



Summer KNEED her in the groin, shocking the FAWNatics watching and damn near paralysing Rebecca on the spot. As Reign sputtered incoherently in inconsistent gasps, wide eyes and disbelieving, a still flustered Hopkins did feel a teeny but guilty but, given the circumstances, both she and her faithful followers gave her a pass.



“Sorry,” the Brit did still apologise as the Havok Hellion stumbled back a full step, leaving Summer to stand under her own power. “Not my usually wheelhouse, put you were being a little handsy. Besides…”



The Supergirl of Sheffield inhaled a deep breath and, with a fresh look of determination, she delivered a quick boot to Rebecca’s tummy, folding the other young woman forwards. She wasted no time in tugging Reign forwards into a Front Headlock and, after slinging one of her arms up and over her shoulders, Hopkins snagged the raven-haired warrior’s belt before bracing her own posture. With one finally surge of effort, she powered Rebecca off the deck, lifting her skywards until she hung vertical with the canvas and her boots pointed upwards towards the ceiling.



Summer held her there, the crowd cheering as the British Bombshell dug deep for one final statement, suddenly letting Reign go and, as she fell, catching her in a snug squeeze about her waist. Hopkins dropped the moment she recollected her cargo, landing on the canvas on her taunt booty whilst NAILING!! her opponent into the plywood crown first!!



FROM SUMMER WITH LOVE

www.youtube.com/watch?v=syNv610tAc8



Rebecca’s whole body stiffened as a sharp shockwave ran the full length of her compressed spine but, after she jolted back up a good inch from her crash landing, she slumped down into a wet noodled heap between Summer’s thighs. Hopkins snagged one of her legs and pulled in down tight against her foe’s own torso, preparing to finish off the evening.



“I told you to buy me dinner first.”



The Official dropped down to the canvas to begin counting, the crowd doing so along with him.



ONE!



TWO!!



THRECRAAAACK!!!



Lady Lydia Lethbridge, no longer on commentary, had dived into the ring and WHACKED the unsuspecting Girl of Steel across the back of her skull, NAILING her with the silver tipped wolfs head of her cane!!



Summer was knocked unconscious the moment Lethbridge connected with her ambush, the benefactor of the EurAsia Champion taking the fate of this match into her own hands.



The FAWNatics called fowl, declaring their displeasure, but not one shout of theirs mattered as Hopkins, her lights well and truly out, slumped over to one side and didn’t even twitch. She lay there, utterly at others mercy and, back on her feet, the Princess of Privilege could not have looked more pleased with herself, brandishing her cane and pacing without a care.



“Lydia!” the Official added his own protests to that of the FAWNatics.



“Oh, shush,” Lethbridge brushed him aside with an irritated flick of one wrist. “I am well within my rights to intervene, there are no rules that I have broken.”



The man in black and white wanted to disagree but, tragically, there was nothing he could do. Given the nature of Four Way Eliminations, there were no count outs or Disqualifications. Pinfalls or Submissions were the only way to win and, in all technically, the entire Roster could have gotten involved in the contest and it still wouldn’t be thrown out.



“Fret not,” Lydia cooed with an undertone of venom, slipping her toe against Hopkin’s shoulder and tipping her over onto her back. She followed up by reaching down to clasp an equally senseless Reign by her wrist, and tugged her atop the unresponsive Summer. “I will leave you to your duties.”



She stepped back then, but did not vacate the ring, instead planting her cane in the deck before her and smiled pleasantly.



The Official didn’t like it, the crowd even less so, but he dropped down to the canvas regardless to begin his count…



ONE!



TWO!!



THREE!!!



…and then called for the bell, the FAWNatics filling the arena with boos as the Announcer made the outcome of match beyond dispute.



“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the Announcer completed took his turn in driving the point home. “Your winner by Pinfall, and the new Number One Contender for the EurAsia Title, the Mistress of Mayhem, REBECCA! REIGN!”



Lydia flashed a near feral grin, displaying just a few too many teeth to be cordial, setting her boot atop Rebecca’s back, and effectively pinning two young women beneath her heel at the same time.



As…



POWER

www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhTHJyRjVIc



…returned to the loud speakers, it was obvious to everyone that Reign may well have been declared the victor, but the Penthouse Belle was the only one in the ring who was getting what she wants.