Post by hawkeye on Feb 6, 2022 21:53:45 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Street Fight! That means there are no count-outs, no disqualifications and falls count anywhere! Introducing first, hailing from Liverpool, England, she stands five feet five inches tall and weighs in at fifty-four and a half kilos, she is the Boarding School Princess, ELIZABETH CROMWELL!”
Vitriol and rancor exploded from all sides, the FAWNatics always happy to let the World’s Worst Brit know what they thought of her pitiless strategies and boundless arrogance. Problem was, the woman in question already knew all this and it only emboldened her efforts to draw their ire. Thus the contemptuous smirk on her lips when she swished through the curtain accompanied by the pleasantly ominous chords of The Female of the Species.
THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IV122X7ycvQ
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
Drawing to a half in the center of the spotlight, Elizabeth Cromwell looked out on the sold-out crowd with the obvious disdain of a woman forced to ply her craft in front of thousands of unworthy cretins. Indeed her disgust was so obvious that it might’ve been overwhelming if she hadn’t relieved the pressure by kissing the tips of her fingers before slapping them the slim curve of one hip. “Kiss it, idiots.” she sniped over the raucous ‘CROMWELL SUCKS!’ chants. “Better yet, don’t. I know exactly where you’ve been.” Tone set, she turned her attention to the ring and started down the ramp.
Eschewing her usual rumblin’ two-piece in favor of something a bit more suitable for a street fight, the former Lightweight champion wore painted on black jeans, a charcoal gray tank-top and perhaps most telling, several wraps of tape around her wrists and hands. Her dark hair, usually worn loose, was pulled back in a simple ponytail to better keep it from the grasp of grubby blonde fingers.
Ignoring the crowd unless it was to remind them just how badly she was going to humiliate the beach trash that was her opposition, Cromwell made brisk time to the foot of the stairs, which she climbed without hesitation. Claiming the apron like it was hers by birthright, Lizzie wiped the soles of her boots clean, then slipped through the strands and took up residence in the middle of the ring. Didn’t pose for the hard camera though, the Briton’s attention was trained exclusively on the curtain and the prey cowering behind it.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Blue Bay, Florida, stands at five feet three inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and seventeen pounds. She is the Slappin’ Sensation MACY RENQUIST!”
MESS AROUND:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJlFKmfZGL4
MACY RENQUIST:
Disdain turned to delight as a twangy guitar riff floated through the speakers, their massive amplification the only thing preventing the tune from being overwhelmed by the thousand-fold ’UH-OH’s! bellowed by the sold-out crowd as the Beach Blaster returned to the PPV stage. Hands stuffed into the pockets of her pink & white varsity jacket, the svelte blonde striker reached up and pulled away one of her oversized headphones, then nodded and set it back into place. “Oh Lizzie,” she almost whispered, “I am going to WRECK you.”
Promise made, Macy started down the aisle, the former Lightweight Champion shooting back and forth to share the tiniest bit of her percussive palms with all those outstretched to greet her. A quick circuit around the squared circle let her do the same for everyone at ringside, then it was onto the apron and through the ropes in the span between heartbeats. Eyes locked on Elizabeth, Macy’s hard smirk grew into a beaming grin when she doffed her jacket to reveal a snug white tank-top, faded jeans torn at the knees and bright pink wrestling shoes, the latter a nod to her ‘astonishing’ trainer. Like Cromwell, she’d chosen to wrap her hands for the battle ahead.
“What’re you hanging back for, Lizzie?” Macy asked as Al Carpenter checked her knees, elbows and hands. “This is a street fight, isn’t it? You can take a swing whenever you like.”
“Yes I can.” Elizabeth sniffed. “But not until the bell rings. I’m not about to endure another four months of you whining about cheap shots.”
Renquist’s eyes narrowed. “Sweetie, you’re going to endure a hell of a lot worse than--”
Cromwell whirled around and strode to her corner, brazenly dismissing her rival only moments before they’d try to tear one another to tiny, weeping pieces.
CLANG!
“Hello again! Macy, isn‘t it?” Elizabeth tittered as she sauntered from her corner at the sound of the bell. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the splint on your hand… or my arse on your nose.”
The fingers on Renquist’s right hand twitched at the reminder of her ‘Mania anguish. She’d lost a full six weeks of ring time thanks to the Briton’s vicious tactics at the end of their last match and Macy meant to make her suffer for each and every second she’d spent on the bench. Taking a moment to draw in a deep breath, the former Lightweight Champion let it out slow before she answered, “You’ll remember me soon enough, Liz. It’ll all come rushing back the moment I slap your haughty little face sideways.”
Cromwell’s dark eyes gleamed as she stretched her arms wide. “I’m right here, you impudent little toe rag. All you have to do is muster the courage to remove your narrow arse from the buckles and--” Lizzie took a giant step back when Renquist practically launched herself toward the center of the squared circle. She wasn’t quite sprinting, but it didn’t take the Slappin’ Sensation more than a few long strides to close in on-- Lizzie slipped a hand into the hip pocket of her jeans, brought out a fistful of *something* and hurled it at the blonde’s facNO!
Renquist dipped low and pushed off her back foot to not only avoid what she vaguely recognized was a cloud of salt but to THUMP the ball of her left shoulder into the Englishwoman’s trim tummy! Continuing to drive forward even as she pulled Lizzie’s stems out from underneath, Macy smashed her rival to the deck with a Double Leg Takedown, then scrambled into a seat on the other Lightweight’s waist and unleashed a veritable fusillade of Slaps!
“Come on, bytch!” Renquist barked down at the brunette as she covered up behind a hasty guard. “Where you hiding, Lizzie? You really think you can cower like this in a street fi--”
“F*ck off, slag!” Elizabeth sneered. “Everyone in this building knows I’ll have you weeping like a toddler when this is all ovNGH! NGH! NGH! EERRRRHHH! HAIR! HAIRRNNGGH!”
Not about to wear out her paddlin’ palms on the other wrestler’s forearms, Renquist slapped around Cromwell’s defenses to crack a few shots offa the sides of her head before snatching a massive handful of hair. “Who the hell are you whining to?” Macy jostled her foe’s head back and forth to emphasize the question. “Al? He’s just here to ring the bell again once you start crYOOOOWW BYTCH!”
Lizzie abandoned defense in favor of dishing out hurt by the handful, or rather handfuls, as the Young Lioness filled her claws with the Floridian’s pert bounty. “Don’t think the extra layers will save you!” Cromwell worked her wrists back and forth even as she tried to tear holes in Renquist’s plain white tank-top. “I’ll peel them all away to leave you bloody and crying on HHRRGGGH!”
Rather than burn energy prizing loose from the claw, Macy balled her right hand into a fist and brought it down on the center of Elizabeth’s forehead! This loosened Cromwell’s grip enough for Renquist to swat it away before she grabbed Lizzie by the hair and hauled her to an almost-seat. Elizabeth countered with a savage hair-pull of her own and for several seconds they maintained this arrangement, blonde and brunette nearly nose to nose as they tried to draw tears in the simplest way possible.
“Did you think ‘Mania was the worst slight I could heap upon you, slag?” Lizzie hissed. “Hobbling from ringside on crutches will look like an absolute godsend after you’re carted out on a stretcher, just sobbing and bleeding to the strains of my antheHEYMMMRRRHHHH!”
Macy relinquished her grip on Cromwell’s hair so she could snatch the back of the brunette’s tank-top and yank it up over her head, hockey-fight style! “Keep running your mouth and I swear they’ll have to wire your jaw shut.” Renquist threatened as she began to slap away at her opponent’s head.
The tank-trap had Cromwell writhing like a snake with a broken back, the usually meticulous Briton reduced to blinded flailing thanks to her own traitorous clothing. “CHEAP WHORE!” Lizzie’s rage was barely muffled by the straining fabric. “YOU’LL NEED MORE THAN THAT TO-- CRAAAAAACK!
Macy drew back and clouted Cromwell a good one, the great arcing Bitch Slap more than enough to swivel the other wrestler’s head sideways. “You want more?” Renquist asked through clenched teeth. “You want more? I’ll give you more, baby!” Resuming her previous grip on Lizzie’s distended tank-top, the blonde stretched a length of it into a rough bridle and crammed it into her rival’s mouth!
“RRRRRGGGGHHHH! HHHRRRRRRMMMMHH!” Cromwell bucked like a madwoman and though it wasn’t enough to free her from the suffocating predicament, she ensured Macy paid a high cost for her perch by driving several knees into the curve of her opponent’s lower back.
Yanking the spit-dampened fabric away after several more seconds, Renquist ground it against the underside of Cromwell’s nose while she asked, “Had enough, Lizzie? You’re sobbing like a girl who’s had enou--”
“NEVER!” the Young Lioness roared. “I’LL NEVER CONCEDE TO TRASH LIKE--”
Liz did finish her sentence with ‘you’, but no one actually heard it because Macy interrupted by peeling off the Briton’s tank-top with several sharp yanks. Barely resisting the urge to cram the garment into her rival’s mouth, Renquist threw it away instead, then grabbed hold of Cromwell’s left wrist and pulled that arm up and out. In the same instant she rolled from her knees to her back, the Beach Blaster deftly threading her legs around the brunette’s head in a stifling Figure Four. To make matters worse, Macy angled Cromwell’s left bicep snug beneath her own throat to make it a Triangle Choke instead of a standard Headscissors. Right shin crooked in the pit of her left knee so she could bring even more pressure to bear, Macy pushed out with her hips while pulling back on the Briton’s captured wrist and repeatedly jouncing her legs.
“You think I’m just going to let you concede, Crommie?” she huffed. “No chance. Concession’s too good for a bytch like you, the only thing I’ll let you do is SUBMIT!”
At that, Al Carpenter dropped to one knee beside his charges and asked, “What do you say, Elizabeth? Need me to--”
“Shut it!” she snapped. “This is little more than a mild inconvenHHHHRRRRK!”
The Young Lioness sounded confident in spite of her grinding teeth and clenched jaw, yet the growing flush in her cheeks told the official she was still in very real danger. He was about to voice this opinion when Renquist growled, “Tap out, brat. If you pass out I’ll strip you bare after the WHOOAAH!”
Lizzie slipped the thumb of her free hand through one of Macy’s belt loops while simultaneously scrambling onto her knees! Doing so did not break the Triangle Choke, but it stacked the surprised blonde up on her shoulders for a count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The Slappin’ Sensation relinquished the hold and booted her opponent away with half a second to spare. Back on her feet by the time Lizzie made it to all fours, Renquist strode over and hauled the other wrestler to her knees with a massive handful of ha--“NNNNNGGGGGHH!” Macy’s volcanic rage curdled to wide-eyed, nauseated shock when Cromwell THWUMPED the underside of her right forearm between the Floridian’s thighs in a massive Uppercut!
Returning to her full height even as Macy doubled over in gut-shot anguish, Elizabeth filled her hands with her rival’s hair, then hauled her up on tiptoes and dropped to one knee to drive Renquist’s forehead into the posted joint! Macy bounced back with enough force to regain her feet, so Cromwell did the same only to surge forward and down to THWHUNK the base of her opponent’s skull into the mat with a huge Hair-Pull Mat Slam! Renquist jolted to a seat without freeing her hair from Elizabeth’s talons, thus ensuring it was only a matter of heartbeats before the Englishwoman slammed her head against the canvas a second time.
No bouncing this time, the Beach Blaster could only turn onto her stomach, so Cromwell scrambled aboard and dropped the full weight of her rump into the small of the other wrestler’s back. “Give me those.” Lizzie hissed as she slapped / grabbed at Macy’s biceps. “I SAID GIVE ME THOSE!” The Young Lioness snatched hold of the American’s elbows, yanked her arms up and back to roughly drape them over the denim-sheathed expanse of her thighs.
Macy, forgetting for a moment that she was in a street fight and not a wrestling match, pressed her chin to her sternum in an attempt to guard against a Camel Clutch. Unfortunately for her Elizabeth didn’t even consider such a technical approach, rather she wrapped a few lengths of the Floridian’s ponytail around one fist and puuuuuuuuuulled as hard as she could!
“AARRRHH F*CK!” Renquist roared as her foe tried to quite literally snatch her bald. “LEGGO OF MY HAIR YOU CHEAP BYTCHHHRGGHH!” Cromwell forced Macy’s head forward, craned her free hand back and THWHAPPED a vicious Forearm Smash into the nape of her rival’s neck.
“Let go of my hair!” Lizzie sneered in a mocking falsetto. “Let go of my hair, I’m far too fragile for a real fight! Oh please Elizabeth, stop hurting--”
“F*ck you.” the Slappin’ Sensation hissed through clenched teeth. “You wouldn’t know a real fight if it--HEY! STOPPIT! DON’T YOU OOOOOHHH OOOOOOWWW BYTCH!”
Snatching hold of Renquist’s ponytail just beneath the simple pink hair-tie she’d used to keep it in place, Cromwell pulled it loose with several hard tugs, then mussed Macy’s long locks and resumed her previous pulling, this time with a double handful! “Pray tell Macy, what aspect of your current circumstances fails to meet your standards for a ‘real’ right? Are you not shrieking loud enough? Could your crying be that much uglier? Tell me, you hapless little slattern and rest assured I will do everything in my power to ensure that you NEVER seek out such a contest ever ag--”
A look of almost comical surprise passed over the Briton’s face when Renquist shifted her weight and slid her right knee into position against the canvas. Now off balance in her previously comfortable seat, Cromwell kept yanking and tearing at Macy’s hair, but she also got to her feet so she could THUMP a Butt Bomb into the center of Renquist’s spine as soon as she made it to her knees! The bum-on-back impact forced Macy down flat, though Elizabeth was quick to re-trap her arms.
“You‘ve yet to answer my question, you sniveling piece of trash.” Lizzie’s tone was quite pleasant as she threaded her hands beneath the blonde’s chin. “Perhaps it’s too vexing, shall I offer you an easier one?” Mashing the heels of her palms into the trapped beauty’s cheeks, Cromwell leaned in close and cooed, “Who’s the best wrestler in the Lightweight Division?”
“You’re in the ring with her, bytch.”
Elizabeth looked unperturbed, though she made a point of jouncing her rival’s head up and down. “Who’s the best?”
“Me.”
“Enough of your lies, brat. Who’s the best?”
“Weren’t you listening? I am!”
“One more chance.” Cromwell hissed. “Who’s the best? Say her name.”
“Macy RenquiSSHHHRRRRGGGAAHHH!”
Three fingers on each side (index, middle and ring), that’s how many Lizzie slipped into Macy’s mouth before pulling back with every bit of her sinewy strength. “Don’t waste your breath.” the brunette told Al Carpenter when he came over to check on Macy. “This slag forfeited the right to submit to you long ago. Her only hope of escaping my not so tender mercies is to beg me directOOOOOWWWWWWW WHORE!”
The Fishhook was hellishly painful and Renquist already knew she’d hate the look on her face when she went back to watch the match, but she endured it for the sole purpose of biting down on Elizabeth’s encroaching fingers just as hard as she could! Cromwell shrieked to wake the dead and yanked her digits free of the blonde’s gnashing maw before scrambling to verticality with both hands held protectively against her chest.
As for Macy, she instinctively rolled in the opposite direction and didn’t bother rising to one knee until she felt the slightly-yielding springiness of the bottom rope. Wincing as she pressed a hand to her stinging scalp, the Beach Blaster smoothed her hair as best she could and stared daggers through Lizzie, who was eyeing her with similar fury.
Lips curled in a smile like charring paper, the brunette asked, “What’s wrong, little harlot? Did I pull your pretty hair too hard? Next time I’ll pull out a fistful.”
“Try it and I’ll break your fingers, bytch.” Renquist answered once she’d made it to her feet. “Swear to God, I’ll break your fingers.”
Cromwell sniffed in obvious disdain. “Please. We both know you don’t have the will for such threats. That’s why I left ‘Mania a winner and you spent the night with your hand in an ice ba--”
“Gonna wish you hadn’t worn a belt tonight, Liz.” Macy interrupted. “Especially after I tear it off and lay it across your back a few dozen times.”
Elizabeth’s dark eyes narrowed to slots as she touched a thumb to the delicate silver clasp just below her navel. “Will you now?”
“Yes I will. And sooner than you’d like.”
A buzz became a murmur that grew into a rumble when Cromwell undid the clasp and pulled that strip of black leather loose with a dry, sibilant hiss. Renquist had expected the Briton to let the belt hang from her fist, so she was mildly surprised when Elizabeth wrapped it around her right hand over and over again. “So you want me belt, sand trash?” she chirped. “Come over here and I’ll give it to--”
Macy did as bade, the lissome blonde almost flying across the ring to meet her rival’s challenge with a Bytch Slap locked and loaded! The Young Lioness saw what was coming but instead of trying to beat her blonde to the punch, she raised her left hand to bait out a quick slap before snatching a fistful of Renquist’s hair! Hissing with delight when a single hard tug shivered her opponent’s knees, Elizabeth wrenched the Floridian’s head back to better expose her chin for a leather-wrapped Haymak--“NNGGHHHH!”
Macy fired a second slap, one that struck Cromwell’s right ear with a flat CRACK! Two more followed in rapid succession, both overhand efforts that jostled Lizzie’s girls within the tastefully sporty confines of her black sports-bra. One more earned her the Briton’s back, a heavy forehand to the tummy that raised an immediate welt on her foe’s pale abdomen. Stuffing a hand into Macy’s face to create a little confusion as she turned around, Elizabeth didn’t even make it three steps before Renquist hooked her fingers into the strap of her sports-bra and pulled as hard as she could. Eyes going wide as she laid a protective arm across her chest, Lizzie started to voice a warning that became a pained yelp when Macy let that straining lycra snap against her bare back with a sound like ice cracking on a country pond!
The Boarding School Princess jolted and lurched forward, her belt-wrapped hand straining for the ropes while her left rubbed at the new-- “UUUFFFFHHH!” The Slappin’ Sensation smashed a shoulder into Cromwell’s back and drove her the rest of the way to the ropes where she promptly looped an arm around the brunette’s waist and began to HAMMER Forearm Smashes into Elizabeth’s lower back.
“BYTCH, GET OFF ME!” Cromwell roared as she tried to persuade Renquist the hell away with a flurry of Back Elbows fired over her right shoulder. Macy pulled away to avoid the first few shots, then went low to duck in and drive a shoulder into the small of her opponent’s back. “Ropes! Ropes goddammit!” Cromwell hooked an arm over the top rope to remind the idiots she’d reached sanctuary. “Get away from me you savERRHH!”
Renquist reached around with both hands already curled into talons, pressed them to the brunette’s tummy and yanked in opposite directions to score Lizzie’s midriff with a swift Tiger Claw! Elizabeth cursed, looked for the idiot Carpenter for assistance but didn’t lay an eye on him before the Slappin’ Sensation straightened up and CLAPPED both ears with a whistling Bell Ringer!
Pressing in tight against Lizzie’s back as she finally went woozy against the strands, Macy gouged her chin into the side of the brunette’s neck when she whispered in her ear. “How many times do I have to remind you, princess? There’s no help in the ropes. I thought a bad-ass catfighter like you would rrrggggghhhh!”
Elizabeth reached back, grabbed hold of the Floridian’s hair and pulled as hard as she could. “You’ll forgive me for the lapse,” Cromwell hissed as she tried to bare a patch of her rival’s scalp, “I’m afraid the overwhelming stench of your mediocrity is dulling my usually razor sharp sensOOOOOWWWWW YOU TROLLOP!”
Despite the beachy beginnings of her combative career, Macy Renquist considered herself a wrestler first and foremost, so it surprised everyone (herself included) when she reached through the ropes to clamp her claws onto the Brit’s modest bosom! “Wail all you want.” Macy sneered, her breath hot and angry against Elizabeth’s cheek. “But you’re not getting out of these ropes until I hear tears on NNNGGHH!”
Cromwell raised her right foot and brought it down hard, her heel smashing onto the blonde’s toes! This would’ve earned her freedom in a previous encounter as Renquist always fought barefoot, tonight however she’d chosen sturdy wrestling shoes and while the stomp was hardly pleasant, the padding allowed her to endure even when the Boarding School Princess began to grind her heel. “Hrrhhh… any tears shed in your presence are strictly joy or hilarity.” Lizzie rasped as she continued to mangle the blonde’s foot while Macy ravaged her girls. “Your best offensive efforts are just that. OffensAAAAIIIIIEEEEEE!”
Surprised, albeit delighted cheers when Renquist narrowed her focus to pincers, that pitiless plucking earning a yowl from Cromwell as she went weak in the knees. “You want offensive, Miss Priss?” Renquist hissed. “See how you like this.”
A single Kneelift to the lower back slowed Lizzie enough for Macy to pull her away from the ropes, then bend her over and shove her upper body between the top and middle ropes. A huge handful of hair made Cromwell yelp and also straightened her up, which allowed the Beach Blaster to thread her arms over the top rope. The cattier-minded FAWNatics hoped Renquist would resume her previous strategy, but the blonde slid her grips back to Cromwell’s wrists while simultaneously bracing her left foot against the hollow of the other wrestler’s back.
“NNNNNNGGAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Lizzie couldn’t suppress a shriek once Macy pulled back on her wrists to put incredible strain on the Englishwoman’s shoulders and spine with a rope-assisted Surfboard.
“Ask her!” Renquist told Al once she’d worked the hold for about ten seconds. “Ask her if she quits!”
“What do you say, Elizabeth?” Al got as close as he dared while remaining out of possible swiping range. “Need me to call for the bell?”
Cromwell shook her head ‘no’ at once, though the pain stamped upon her delicate features suggested it wasn’t as easy a denial as it might’ve been only a minute prior. Her refusal didn’t bother Macy at all, indeed she seemed more determined than ever when she pulled her foot away, then THUMPED it into the center of her opponent’s back.
“Remember how you tried to break my fingers at ‘Mania?” Now it was the blonde grinding her heel against Lizzie’s vertebrae. “How you exploited the count and the ref to do as much damage as quickly as possible?”
“Oh yes.” Cromwell sneered. “I loved every second of NNNNGGGHH!”
Renquist stomped / pulled again, the increased strain thrusting the Young Lioness’ chest out in a fashion she would’ve found galling if she wasn’t worried about her shoulders separating. “I know you did.” Macy huffed. “Can you imagine how much I enjoy not having to deal with a couEEERRRRHHHHHH!”
Just such a thought had already crossed Cromwell’s mind and she knew she had to escape the blonde’s machinations with all due haste. To that end she began to work her wrists back and forth, slowly at first, then faster and faster. These efforts didn’t free her hands, but they forced Renquist to adjust her own grips to keep the Surfboard snug and that’s when the Englishwoman flicked a foot backward and drove it into her attacker’s shin!
Macy let loose and hobbled backward, the former Lightweight Champion hopping on her other foot while she tried to massage the pain away. As for Cromwell, she pulled her arms away from the ropes and immediately tumbled out of the ring to land in rough heap on the thin blue mats below. Impact not withstanding, the mats were pleasantly cool and Lizzie might’ve stayed there for quite some time if not for the hateful roar of those idiot fans and one simple, galling fact.
She was losing.
The disgusting blonde had stripped her down and shown her off like she was little more than Daytona-grade bikini meat and that was simply unacceptable. “You screamed for me once,” Cromwell whispered as she tightened her right hand around the belt that somehow hadn’t come loose, “you’ll scream even louder tonight.”
With that promise in mind the Boarding School Princess clambered to one knee, then grabbed onto the apron and hauled herself upright to--THUMP! Macy dove under the bottom rope with a Baseball Slide Dropkick that smashed Elizabeth’s chest and sent her backpedaling across the narrow aisle to collide with the steel guardrail!
“Should’ve known I’d have to bring the fight to you.” Renquist muttered as she scrambled to verticality. “That’s fine though, I love watching you run away.” On that note the Slappin’ Sensation took to her heels and did some running of her own, Macy sprinting to the far side of the squared circle just to come back with a low, predatory dive that took her through the space between the bottom and middle ro--TWAAAAAANG! Elizabeth rushed forward, grabbed the bottom strand and yanked it up so Macy went face-first into the rubber-coated steel!
Eyes shiny with involuntary tears, Renquist hit the mat and wrapped her head in her arms, thus ensuring she couldn’t defend herself when Cromwell rolled her onto her back. “I hope you enjoyed that illusion of dominance.” Liz cooed to the blonde as she helped herself to a double handful of hair. “Because I promise the reality of your situation is far less pleasant.”
To that end she pulled Macy a little way out, then twisted around and set the back of the Floridian’s head against her right shoulder. Another few steps ensured Renquist of an unenviable landing when Cromwell went up on tiptoe and dropped to a seat to THWHUNK the blonde’s noggin with a nasty Hangman’s Neckbreaker! Renquist jolted like a downed power-line, then curled into a tight ball with both arms swaddling the back of her skull.
Beside her, Elizabeth Cromwell made a show of smoothing out her hair before pushing to one knee. “You dared strip me for the amusement of these slavering hyenas.” the brunette murmured after she’d grabbed hold of Macy’s tank-top. “Therefore it’s only fair that I sate their awful appetite in similar fashion.”
“Guuuuuhhh… go f*ck yourself you nasty HHHRRRRHHHH!”
Macy’s answer was interrupted by Cromwell carrying out her threat, the brunette furiously pulling and wrenching on her foe’s tank-top in an effort to peel it over her head. The Slappin’ Sensation didn’t make it easy, in fact her resistance irked Lizzie to such an extent that the Briton released her grip when the distended garment was bunched up across her opponent’s face. Rolling onto her knees as soon as she realized she’d won the tug of war, Macy started to wriggle her top back into its previous alignment when--“AAAAAWWW FAAAAAAAAAHK!” the blonde shrieked, her world exploding in anguish thanks to the pitiless touch of leather on bare skin.
“My, my, that welt is lovely!” Elizabeth cooed over the jeers of the crowd and the groans of her opposition. “Seems lonely, though. Perhaps I can…” she lashed out with the belt again, this time laying an angry red stripe across Macy’s tummy!
Renquist wailed, rolled away and scrambled to her feet, the former Lightweight Champion finally succeeding in tugging her traitorous tank-top down into a far less obtrusive (and slightly more protective) arrange--“NNNNGGHHH!” Cromwell rushed in and caught her opponent flush in the chest with a Dropkick made all the worse by dint of driving Renquist into the side of the steel steps with an echoing BWANG!
Tossing her belt onto the apron after she’d scrambled to verticality, Lizzie grabbed a double handful of Macy’s hair and hauled her upright with several sharp tugs. “What do you think I’ll see first?” Cromwell growled. “Blood or tears? Wait, don’t guess. I’d rather be surprised!”
Not like Macy got the chance to offer a reply of any sort, Lizzie simply stormed across the aisle and whipped Renquist off her feet with a Hair Mare that BWAAANGED the Beach Blaster against the steel barrier with enough force to bruise the shins of a few fans in the front row. Macy hit the floor in a groaning heap, one arm wrapped around the back of her skull while the other tried to protect her welted midsection.
Extremely pleased by the agonized, defenseless condition of her rival, Liz murmured, “Now, let’s get you out of that rag, shall we?” Renquist responded with groans rather than sass, thus ensuring Cromwell looked suitably insufferable when she bent over and pulled Macy’s tank-top away with one, two, three aggressive yanks. Smirking in the face of the resultant vitriol, Elizabeth earned some cheers by teasing a toss of that shorn top only to snatch them all back by tearing it in half with a low, vaguely sibilant rrrrrrrriiiiiiiiip!
“Get up, trollop.” Lizzie nudged the American’s gulping tummy with the toe of one shoe. “If I have to bend down to pick you off the floor, I promise you’ll lose some OOFFFHHH!”
Renquist sat up and drove a single straight punch into the Briton’s navel! That shot was enough to back the Boarding School Princess up, unfortunately it wasn’t enough to let Macy regain her feet as she was still rising when the brunette rushed in, snatched a massive fistful of hair and SMASHED the back of her head against the guardrail!
That concussive collision turned Renquist’s legs to water and she dropped to her butt in a slumped sprawl that made her lap a perfect seat for the Young Lioness. Palming the other woman’s noggin in her hands, Cromwell tilted Macy’s head backward to force some smoldering eye contact. “You’re helpless, beach trash.” Liz cooed. “And I want to hear you admit it as loud as you possibly can. Don’t make me wait or I’ll make you suffeerrrrgggghhh!”
Macy reached up with both hands and clamped down on the brunette’s modest bounty. “That feel helpless to you, prisSSUUUUNNNGGHHH!”
Elizabeth smashed a Headbutt between Renquist’s eyes which in turn banged the back of her head against the barricade! Brushing her foe’s claws away with minimal fuss, Cromwell plunged her hands into Macy’s hair and quickly drew it backward into a ponytail that she proceeded to wrap around the sturdy metal column behind the blonde’s head. “Did you really think a relaxed rule set would favor you?” Elizabeth sneered as she tied those long locks in an ugly knot. “You poor, deluded, little slattern, you were never going to best HHRRRGGGHH!”
Not yet fully aware what the Briton had done to her, Renquist interrupted Lizzie with a brisk slap, then shoved her aside and started to ri--“Nnnnhhhh! What the? Sneaky bytch, what’ve you donURRGH!”
Cromwell put a stop to those insolent questions with a couple hard punches to the Beach Blaster’s belly before climbing back onto Renquist’s lap. “What’ve I done?” Lizzie teased as she tapped the tip of Macy’s nose. “So far I’ve whipped you with a belt, stripped you of your top and tied your greasy hair to this undeserving barricade. Alas, that’s just the start. Because now… I’m going to make you CRY!”
The Young Lioness crooked her hands into claws and began to rake Macy’s breasts with devilish relish! Renquist didn’t actually cry (at least not to Elizabeth’s satisfaction) though the keening noise emanating from deep in her throat told the brunette she was on the right path. Shifting from raking to squeezing, Cromwell jostled her wrists violently and hissed, “Show me those tears you strutting little poseur! Bawl for my pleasure or I’ll tear claw you to ribbEEERRRRHH!”
Understanding that her options were quite limited at the moment, Macy Renquist grabbed onto her opponent’s pert bust and began to knead like she was working particularly stiff dough! “Come on then, cupcake.” the Slappin’ Sensation rasped. “Give it all you’ve got. I’ll do the same and we’ll see who cries first.”
Elizabeth’s brow crinkled in consternation, the former Lightweight Champion both infuriated and intrigued by the challenge. “Your terms are acceptable.” she hissed. “I hope you chose waterproof mascarOOOWWWW!”
Macy doubled down on her own efforts, the usually technically-minded grappler returning to her catty beach wrestling roots to rip, rake, scrape and score her rival’s girls! The unexpected increase in aggression threw Cromwell off long enough for Renquist to slip her hands under the snug armor of Elizabeth’s sports-bra. “Desperate brat.” Macy grunted. “Surprised you didn’t try to tie my hands behind my back TOOOOOHHHHH GAAAAAHHH!”
Not about to give any ground in this belligerent bust battle, Cromwell went under her opponent’s top as well, but where Macy chose to claw, she chose to pinch, the callous brunette tweasing and tweaking as hard as the close confines would allow. “As if I need such a ridiculous handicap to humiliate the likes of you.” Lizzie hissed. “My will and wiles are so far beyond yours well… it almost brings a tear to my eye!” With that she twisted her wrists once, twice, three times, then pulled as hard as she could, the resultant jolt of anguish causing Renquist to throw her head back in a loud wail that was cut off the instant she BANGED against the damned guardrail.
Amping up her efforts even as she watched a gleam gather at the corners of Macy’s eyes, Lizzie leaned in and planted a kiss on one cheek before she whispered, “Submit to me, beach trash. Whisper surrender before you cry out to the official and I’ll allow you to leave with your jeans around your waist and not your ankAAAARRRRHHHH VILE SLAG!”
Cromwell’s desire to hear her rival’s shame proved a costly error as it allowed the Beach Blaster to dart forward and chomp down on the side of her neck! Forgetting all about her cruel clawing, Elizabeth pushed Macy back with enough force to shift that whole section of the barricade by several inches. Just like that she regained her footing and--“NNNGGHHH!”
Renquist pulled both knees to her chest and slammed a massive Mule Kick into the Englishwoman’s tummy! Cromwell folded up around those encroaching feet even as she flew across the aisle looking like a shotgunned thug in a Jon Woo flick. Indeed, Lizzie’s arc of descent had barely begun when she THWHUNKED shoulders-first into the edge of the ring apron! That impact turned her arc into a straight vertical plunge and Cromwell landed flat on her butt, the brunette’s usual haughtiness replaced with woozy hurt as she gingerly massaged the base of her neck with one hand.
Things weren‘t much better for Macy, though her movements were more frenetic as she fumbled and tugged at her own hair in hopes of freeing herself from the Young Lioness’ damnable trap. Cursing aloud when several seconds of work brought no discernable progress, Renquist asked, “Hey, can someone back there help me out? A nasty brat’s wreaked havoc on my hair.”
There was a bit of shifting in chairs before someone said, “Yeah, sure. Ummmh, what do you want me to do?”
“Just undo the knots in my hair, please.” the Beach Blaster answered. “And if you can do it before she’s back on her feet I’ll give you my headphones.”
“Really? Ok, gimme a sec.) This was followed by a sound very much like fingers hastily scrubbed against a napkin and win or lose Renquist decided she’d sign her headphones too because this guy was considerate enough to not get Cheeto dust or pizza sauce in her hair.
Back in the shadow of the squared circle, Lizzie Cromwell rolled to all fours, then grabbed hold of the apron and used it to haul herself upright. Speaking as quietly as she could, Macy muttered, “Not trying to rush you my dude, but if you could--”
“Done!”
The pressure at the nape of her neck disappeared and Renquist was up in a blink with both hands raised high overhead to--CRAAAAAACK! Elizabeth wailed in confused pain, twisted around to locate her attacker and--CRAAAAAACK! Macy caught her again, the stereo slap jostling the brunette’s modest juggs within their lycra confines!
“BYTCH!” Cromwell roared before sweeping Renquist into a sloppy clench that sent both women barreling into the guardrail with a painful BWANG. “You’re going to wish you’d stayed tied up.” Elizabeth hissed as she wrapped her hands against Macy’s throat and began to squeeze. “Then you’d have an excuse for losing. But now? Now you simply have to acknowledge that I’m bettAAAAUUUUGGGGGHHH!”
The FAWNatic who’d freed Renquist from her follicular prison thrust a beer in her direction and Macy snatched it for the sole purpose of hurling the contents in the Englishwoman’s face!
Wailing in incredulous outrage, Cromwell threw it into full reverse, both hands swiping at her be-sudsed features as she tried to put some distance between herself and the disgusting Floridian. She’d made it maybe half the length of the ring when Macy caught up, the resurgent blonde yanking her rival’s arms behind her back in a rough Double Chickenwing. Cromwell went taut and raised a foot as soon as she was seized but she didn’t connect with the Low Blow because Renquist interrupted it with a single Kneelift that skewered her opponent’s tailbone! Elizabeth’s legs went loose enough for Macy to peel her away from the guardrail and once they were clear she dipped her legs and popped her hips to take the Boarding School Princess up, over, and down onto the back of her head and shoulders courtesy a huge Tiger Suplex!
The throw left Cromwell stacked up ass over teakettle, but the Slappin’ Sensation made no effort to hold her there. Instead she rolled to one knee and took several deep, steadying breaths. Feeling much better shortly thereafter, Macy shoveled the Briton onto her stomach, then took hold of her wrists and pulled them out so her palms were flat on the blue mats. “Been waiting a while for this, you bytch.” Renquist explained as she carefully set her feet atop the brunette’s hands.
“Guuuuhhhh… get your bloody arse offa me, beach trasSSSHHAAAARRRHH!”
A mixture of cheers and sympathetic groans from the audience when Macy stood up and began to grrrrrrrrriiiiind Cromwell’s hands beneath the soles of her shoes! “BYTCH!” Lizzie shrieked as scrambled to her knees, a shift that didn’t free her from the blonde’s nasty trap. “GET OFF OF ME OR I’LL--” Rather than waste energy finishing the threat, the Young Lioness reared back as far as she could in anticipation of slamming a Headbutt into Macy’s gro--CRAAAAAACK!
Renquist foiled the effort with a whistling Bytch Slap that hit hard enough to make Cromwell’s ears ring! Bolstered by the pleasantly warm tingle in her slappin’ hand, Macy buried the other in her rival’s hair and wrenched her head backward so Elizabeth was squinting into the overhead lights.
“What’re you gonna do, princess?” Renquist asked quietly. She followed her question with a second slap, not quite as hard as the first, but more than enough to make the brunette bare her teeth in pain and anger. Apparently that wasn’t enough for Macy, who proceeded to slap the penitent Lioness three, four, five more times, each new round accompanied by a repetition of her question, “What’re you gonna do?”
“I’M GONNA RUIN YOU!” Lizzie roared. She never stopped trying to free her hands, but the barrage of unprotected slaps were slowly eroding her resistance, as well as her reaction time. “Cheating tramp.” she hissed after another head-swiveling shot. “You know I’d ruin you in a fair fight, that’s why you’re NNNGGGGHHH!”
The Beach Blaster stretched her arms into a huge ‘T’ just to bring her hands together on either side of Cromwell’s noggin in a colossal Bell Ringer! Elizabeth slumped in place, her forehead almost touching the protective mats. Above her, Macy took a moment to catch her breath in the hope of subduing the anger that’d welled up when the Englishwoman hit her with the ‘F’ word.
“Fair? You don’t get to use that word after ‘Mania. In fact, if you really want to talk fair…” Renquist slid her left foot from Cromwell’s right hand, then grabbed hold of that wrist and pulled her arm up at an angle that forced the brunette to return to her knees.
“Yuuuuuhhhh…. you miserable slattern.” Elizabeth mumbled over the awful keening in her ears. “You don’t deserve to breathe my air, let alone share my rinGOOOOOOOWW STAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHP!”
Macy, who’d slipped three of the brunette’s fingers into her mouth for some mean-spirited nibbling, did no such thing. “CARPENTER YOU LUMMOX, SHE’S BITING MEEEEAAAAAAARRRRRRHHHHH!”
This didn’t come as a revelation to Al, he’d watched their entire war from the edge of the squared circle without making an effort to interfere because neither wrestler had sought a submission since they went to the floor. Not content to simply chew, Macy pulled Lizzie’s fingers out of her mouth, then wrapped a hand around those vulnerable digits and began to bend them backward!
“Not fun is it, prissy?” Renquist muttered. “Being tortured in front of a huge audience? Using everything you’ve got to escape, but failing at every turn because--”
“BECAUSE YOU’RE WEAK!” Elizabeth screamed at her rival. “YOU’RE NOT EVEN A REAL WRESTLER, YOU’RE JUST SOME YOUTUBE SIDESHOW FREAAAAAAAWWWWW SHYT!”
Macy added her other hand to the grip on Cromwell’s fingers and repaid another torment from ‘Mania by yanking them into an ungodly ‘V’ shape. “Where do you want to finish this, Lizzie?” Renquist hissed. “Out here, on the ‘street’? Or back in the ring, like wrestlers? Your wish is my command, prissy.”
“THEN EAT SHYT AND DIE!” Cromwell raged. “JUST LEGGO OF MY BLOODY HANDS BEFORE YOU AAARRRRRHHHHH!” The Slappin’ Sensation cranked the Wishbone harder than ever before finally slinging Elizabeth’s mangled hand away.
Hand pressed to her chest, the brunette threw herself under the bottom rope, scrambled to her feet and made a beeline for Al Carpenter. “Hold her back!” she demanded to the official. “Bytch is trying to maimAAAAARRRRRHHHHH!”
Lizzie shrieked at the top of her lungs when Macy crept up from behind and CRAAAAAACKED her between the shoulders with a massive Overhand Bytch Slap. Snatching hold of Cromwell’s right wrist when the Briton reached to investigate the welt, Renquist turned her foe around, then took a giant step back and dipped her knees to send Elizabeth racing toward a corner on the far side of the ring.
So relieved to be out of the blonde’s clutches that she almost didn’t notice the buckles closing in, Cromwell regained her wits at the last second and swung around to ensure she hit back-first. Painful though it was, she was grateful for the adjustment as it meant she got a split-second to prepare for rushing her way with a Running Bytch Sl--“NNNGGGGHHHH!” Lizzie hoisted her knees and slammed a huge Mule Kick into the American’s sternum!
“GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD, SLAG!” Cromwell bellowed as Macy staggered back toward the center of the ring. “YOUR SLAPS ARE SHYT! YOU ARE SH--”
Macy rushed her again so Elizabeth lowered a shoulder and stuffed it into the American’s midriff! She straightened up with every intention of launching Renquist over the top rope to the floor below, so you can imagine her surprise when Macy clamped her legs around the brunette’s noggin and grabbed the rubber-coated steel in both hands. This was certainly better than a plunge to the floor, but it was still fraught with peril since Cromwell promptly wrapped her arms around the Floridian’s calves so she could rip her out of the corner for-- ‘OOOOOHHH!’ from the incredulous FAWNatics as Macy swung in tight against Lizzie’s back, wrapped her up in a Waistlock and spun through to flip her rival end over end for a THWHONKING skull-on-canvas collision!
CREATURE FROM THE BLUE LAGOON @ 1:39
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2m-CxqPbVoQ&t=109s
Somersaulted onto her knees by the Creature from the Blue Lagoon, Cromwell didn’t even wheeze when the blonde shoved her flat and climbed aboard, Renquist gouging her knees into Elizabeth’s flanks so she could palm her shoulders and offer a ferocious nod for count of the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The Beach Blaster was on her feet at once, the exhausted former champ actually roaring with triumph when the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… MACY RENQUIST!”
Carpenter moved in to raise her hand, but Macy only tolerated it for a few seconds before pulling away. Eyes locked on the prone, insensate form of Elizabeth Cromwell, she circled around to her rival’s feet, then bent down and earned a confused murmur from the crowd when she began…pulling at Lizzie’s shoes?
“Ummh, Macy? You ok?” Al asked after his charge liberated one sneaker and set to work on the other.
“Much better now, Al.” she answered without hesitation. “Just needed to get these out of the way. Otherwise I couldn’t…” Renquist tromped a few steps north, then grabbed hold of the brunette’s waistband and started to yank!
The ref didn’t much approve but the crowd sure as hell loved, their volume growing louder and louder as the Slappin’ Sensation got some revenge for ‘Mania by stripping away Elizabeth’s street fight armor to leave her clad in nothing but a sports bra and strappy black panties.
“That’s what you f*cking get!” Renquist barked down at Cromwell after the denim was discarded and her foe was beginning to stir. “That’s just what you goddamned deserve, you--”
“I’m going to rip you apart.” Elizabeth hissed in a mixture of humiliation and fury. “Do you think this is over, beach trash? Next time we fight I’ll NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! STOP! STOP IT YOU VILE TWAT!”
Macy straddled the brunette’s waist and started slapping away, the victrix landing nearly a dozen shots to her foe’s face and chest before Al prized her off. “MAKE ME!” Renquist barked in response. She fought like a madwoman but Carpenter wouldn’t let go until Elizabeth managed to slide out of the ring. “Enjoy that walk of shame, bytch.” Macy hissed to the departing grappler. “The next one will be even worse.”
“You have no idea how right you are.” Cromwell replied as she started limping up the ramp. “You’re going to bawl when I take my revenge. Just a constant stream of blubbering tears and quitter snot pouring down your fa--”
Renquist scooped of Lizzie’s jeans, rushed the ropes and tossed them after the departing brunette. “Wipe your tears with that, loser.”
The Young Lioness made no move to retrieve her clothes, she just stood there watching Macy with dark, hating eyes. “Hear my words and hear them well, Macy Renquist.” she said softly. “This is the LAST time you will ever have your hand raised after a match with me. There is a reckoning, no, a shaming, coming. And it will destroy you.”
“Whenever you want, Elizabeth.” Macy murmured. “Whenever you want, wherever you want, however you want.”
Cromwell offered no answer, she just turned her back after a final sniff and stomped up the ramp without a word to even the most vocal of hecklers.
Macy watched the Englishwoman go, almost took off after her. In the end she decided against it. Finishing things with Lizzie could wait until the brat worked up her courage again. Tonight she had a victory circuit to strut. And a pair of headphones to sign.
Vitriol and rancor exploded from all sides, the FAWNatics always happy to let the World’s Worst Brit know what they thought of her pitiless strategies and boundless arrogance. Problem was, the woman in question already knew all this and it only emboldened her efforts to draw their ire. Thus the contemptuous smirk on her lips when she swished through the curtain accompanied by the pleasantly ominous chords of The Female of the Species.
THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IV122X7ycvQ
ELIZABETH CROMWELL:
Drawing to a half in the center of the spotlight, Elizabeth Cromwell looked out on the sold-out crowd with the obvious disdain of a woman forced to ply her craft in front of thousands of unworthy cretins. Indeed her disgust was so obvious that it might’ve been overwhelming if she hadn’t relieved the pressure by kissing the tips of her fingers before slapping them the slim curve of one hip. “Kiss it, idiots.” she sniped over the raucous ‘CROMWELL SUCKS!’ chants. “Better yet, don’t. I know exactly where you’ve been.” Tone set, she turned her attention to the ring and started down the ramp.
Eschewing her usual rumblin’ two-piece in favor of something a bit more suitable for a street fight, the former Lightweight champion wore painted on black jeans, a charcoal gray tank-top and perhaps most telling, several wraps of tape around her wrists and hands. Her dark hair, usually worn loose, was pulled back in a simple ponytail to better keep it from the grasp of grubby blonde fingers.
Ignoring the crowd unless it was to remind them just how badly she was going to humiliate the beach trash that was her opposition, Cromwell made brisk time to the foot of the stairs, which she climbed without hesitation. Claiming the apron like it was hers by birthright, Lizzie wiped the soles of her boots clean, then slipped through the strands and took up residence in the middle of the ring. Didn’t pose for the hard camera though, the Briton’s attention was trained exclusively on the curtain and the prey cowering behind it.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Blue Bay, Florida, stands at five feet three inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and seventeen pounds. She is the Slappin’ Sensation MACY RENQUIST!”
MESS AROUND:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJlFKmfZGL4
MACY RENQUIST:
Disdain turned to delight as a twangy guitar riff floated through the speakers, their massive amplification the only thing preventing the tune from being overwhelmed by the thousand-fold ’UH-OH’s! bellowed by the sold-out crowd as the Beach Blaster returned to the PPV stage. Hands stuffed into the pockets of her pink & white varsity jacket, the svelte blonde striker reached up and pulled away one of her oversized headphones, then nodded and set it back into place. “Oh Lizzie,” she almost whispered, “I am going to WRECK you.”
Promise made, Macy started down the aisle, the former Lightweight Champion shooting back and forth to share the tiniest bit of her percussive palms with all those outstretched to greet her. A quick circuit around the squared circle let her do the same for everyone at ringside, then it was onto the apron and through the ropes in the span between heartbeats. Eyes locked on Elizabeth, Macy’s hard smirk grew into a beaming grin when she doffed her jacket to reveal a snug white tank-top, faded jeans torn at the knees and bright pink wrestling shoes, the latter a nod to her ‘astonishing’ trainer. Like Cromwell, she’d chosen to wrap her hands for the battle ahead.
“What’re you hanging back for, Lizzie?” Macy asked as Al Carpenter checked her knees, elbows and hands. “This is a street fight, isn’t it? You can take a swing whenever you like.”
“Yes I can.” Elizabeth sniffed. “But not until the bell rings. I’m not about to endure another four months of you whining about cheap shots.”
Renquist’s eyes narrowed. “Sweetie, you’re going to endure a hell of a lot worse than--”
Cromwell whirled around and strode to her corner, brazenly dismissing her rival only moments before they’d try to tear one another to tiny, weeping pieces.
CLANG!
“Hello again! Macy, isn‘t it?” Elizabeth tittered as she sauntered from her corner at the sound of the bell. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the splint on your hand… or my arse on your nose.”
The fingers on Renquist’s right hand twitched at the reminder of her ‘Mania anguish. She’d lost a full six weeks of ring time thanks to the Briton’s vicious tactics at the end of their last match and Macy meant to make her suffer for each and every second she’d spent on the bench. Taking a moment to draw in a deep breath, the former Lightweight Champion let it out slow before she answered, “You’ll remember me soon enough, Liz. It’ll all come rushing back the moment I slap your haughty little face sideways.”
Cromwell’s dark eyes gleamed as she stretched her arms wide. “I’m right here, you impudent little toe rag. All you have to do is muster the courage to remove your narrow arse from the buckles and--” Lizzie took a giant step back when Renquist practically launched herself toward the center of the squared circle. She wasn’t quite sprinting, but it didn’t take the Slappin’ Sensation more than a few long strides to close in on-- Lizzie slipped a hand into the hip pocket of her jeans, brought out a fistful of *something* and hurled it at the blonde’s facNO!
Renquist dipped low and pushed off her back foot to not only avoid what she vaguely recognized was a cloud of salt but to THUMP the ball of her left shoulder into the Englishwoman’s trim tummy! Continuing to drive forward even as she pulled Lizzie’s stems out from underneath, Macy smashed her rival to the deck with a Double Leg Takedown, then scrambled into a seat on the other Lightweight’s waist and unleashed a veritable fusillade of Slaps!
“Come on, bytch!” Renquist barked down at the brunette as she covered up behind a hasty guard. “Where you hiding, Lizzie? You really think you can cower like this in a street fi--”
“F*ck off, slag!” Elizabeth sneered. “Everyone in this building knows I’ll have you weeping like a toddler when this is all ovNGH! NGH! NGH! EERRRRHHH! HAIR! HAIRRNNGGH!”
Not about to wear out her paddlin’ palms on the other wrestler’s forearms, Renquist slapped around Cromwell’s defenses to crack a few shots offa the sides of her head before snatching a massive handful of hair. “Who the hell are you whining to?” Macy jostled her foe’s head back and forth to emphasize the question. “Al? He’s just here to ring the bell again once you start crYOOOOWW BYTCH!”
Lizzie abandoned defense in favor of dishing out hurt by the handful, or rather handfuls, as the Young Lioness filled her claws with the Floridian’s pert bounty. “Don’t think the extra layers will save you!” Cromwell worked her wrists back and forth even as she tried to tear holes in Renquist’s plain white tank-top. “I’ll peel them all away to leave you bloody and crying on HHRRGGGH!”
Rather than burn energy prizing loose from the claw, Macy balled her right hand into a fist and brought it down on the center of Elizabeth’s forehead! This loosened Cromwell’s grip enough for Renquist to swat it away before she grabbed Lizzie by the hair and hauled her to an almost-seat. Elizabeth countered with a savage hair-pull of her own and for several seconds they maintained this arrangement, blonde and brunette nearly nose to nose as they tried to draw tears in the simplest way possible.
“Did you think ‘Mania was the worst slight I could heap upon you, slag?” Lizzie hissed. “Hobbling from ringside on crutches will look like an absolute godsend after you’re carted out on a stretcher, just sobbing and bleeding to the strains of my antheHEYMMMRRRHHHH!”
Macy relinquished her grip on Cromwell’s hair so she could snatch the back of the brunette’s tank-top and yank it up over her head, hockey-fight style! “Keep running your mouth and I swear they’ll have to wire your jaw shut.” Renquist threatened as she began to slap away at her opponent’s head.
The tank-trap had Cromwell writhing like a snake with a broken back, the usually meticulous Briton reduced to blinded flailing thanks to her own traitorous clothing. “CHEAP WHORE!” Lizzie’s rage was barely muffled by the straining fabric. “YOU’LL NEED MORE THAN THAT TO-- CRAAAAAACK!
Macy drew back and clouted Cromwell a good one, the great arcing Bitch Slap more than enough to swivel the other wrestler’s head sideways. “You want more?” Renquist asked through clenched teeth. “You want more? I’ll give you more, baby!” Resuming her previous grip on Lizzie’s distended tank-top, the blonde stretched a length of it into a rough bridle and crammed it into her rival’s mouth!
“RRRRRGGGGHHHH! HHHRRRRRRMMMMHH!” Cromwell bucked like a madwoman and though it wasn’t enough to free her from the suffocating predicament, she ensured Macy paid a high cost for her perch by driving several knees into the curve of her opponent’s lower back.
Yanking the spit-dampened fabric away after several more seconds, Renquist ground it against the underside of Cromwell’s nose while she asked, “Had enough, Lizzie? You’re sobbing like a girl who’s had enou--”
“NEVER!” the Young Lioness roared. “I’LL NEVER CONCEDE TO TRASH LIKE--”
Liz did finish her sentence with ‘you’, but no one actually heard it because Macy interrupted by peeling off the Briton’s tank-top with several sharp yanks. Barely resisting the urge to cram the garment into her rival’s mouth, Renquist threw it away instead, then grabbed hold of Cromwell’s left wrist and pulled that arm up and out. In the same instant she rolled from her knees to her back, the Beach Blaster deftly threading her legs around the brunette’s head in a stifling Figure Four. To make matters worse, Macy angled Cromwell’s left bicep snug beneath her own throat to make it a Triangle Choke instead of a standard Headscissors. Right shin crooked in the pit of her left knee so she could bring even more pressure to bear, Macy pushed out with her hips while pulling back on the Briton’s captured wrist and repeatedly jouncing her legs.
“You think I’m just going to let you concede, Crommie?” she huffed. “No chance. Concession’s too good for a bytch like you, the only thing I’ll let you do is SUBMIT!”
At that, Al Carpenter dropped to one knee beside his charges and asked, “What do you say, Elizabeth? Need me to--”
“Shut it!” she snapped. “This is little more than a mild inconvenHHHHRRRRK!”
The Young Lioness sounded confident in spite of her grinding teeth and clenched jaw, yet the growing flush in her cheeks told the official she was still in very real danger. He was about to voice this opinion when Renquist growled, “Tap out, brat. If you pass out I’ll strip you bare after the WHOOAAH!”
Lizzie slipped the thumb of her free hand through one of Macy’s belt loops while simultaneously scrambling onto her knees! Doing so did not break the Triangle Choke, but it stacked the surprised blonde up on her shoulders for a count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The Slappin’ Sensation relinquished the hold and booted her opponent away with half a second to spare. Back on her feet by the time Lizzie made it to all fours, Renquist strode over and hauled the other wrestler to her knees with a massive handful of ha--“NNNNNGGGGGHH!” Macy’s volcanic rage curdled to wide-eyed, nauseated shock when Cromwell THWUMPED the underside of her right forearm between the Floridian’s thighs in a massive Uppercut!
Returning to her full height even as Macy doubled over in gut-shot anguish, Elizabeth filled her hands with her rival’s hair, then hauled her up on tiptoes and dropped to one knee to drive Renquist’s forehead into the posted joint! Macy bounced back with enough force to regain her feet, so Cromwell did the same only to surge forward and down to THWHUNK the base of her opponent’s skull into the mat with a huge Hair-Pull Mat Slam! Renquist jolted to a seat without freeing her hair from Elizabeth’s talons, thus ensuring it was only a matter of heartbeats before the Englishwoman slammed her head against the canvas a second time.
No bouncing this time, the Beach Blaster could only turn onto her stomach, so Cromwell scrambled aboard and dropped the full weight of her rump into the small of the other wrestler’s back. “Give me those.” Lizzie hissed as she slapped / grabbed at Macy’s biceps. “I SAID GIVE ME THOSE!” The Young Lioness snatched hold of the American’s elbows, yanked her arms up and back to roughly drape them over the denim-sheathed expanse of her thighs.
Macy, forgetting for a moment that she was in a street fight and not a wrestling match, pressed her chin to her sternum in an attempt to guard against a Camel Clutch. Unfortunately for her Elizabeth didn’t even consider such a technical approach, rather she wrapped a few lengths of the Floridian’s ponytail around one fist and puuuuuuuuuulled as hard as she could!
“AARRRHH F*CK!” Renquist roared as her foe tried to quite literally snatch her bald. “LEGGO OF MY HAIR YOU CHEAP BYTCHHHRGGHH!” Cromwell forced Macy’s head forward, craned her free hand back and THWHAPPED a vicious Forearm Smash into the nape of her rival’s neck.
“Let go of my hair!” Lizzie sneered in a mocking falsetto. “Let go of my hair, I’m far too fragile for a real fight! Oh please Elizabeth, stop hurting--”
“F*ck you.” the Slappin’ Sensation hissed through clenched teeth. “You wouldn’t know a real fight if it--HEY! STOPPIT! DON’T YOU OOOOOHHH OOOOOOWWW BYTCH!”
Snatching hold of Renquist’s ponytail just beneath the simple pink hair-tie she’d used to keep it in place, Cromwell pulled it loose with several hard tugs, then mussed Macy’s long locks and resumed her previous pulling, this time with a double handful! “Pray tell Macy, what aspect of your current circumstances fails to meet your standards for a ‘real’ right? Are you not shrieking loud enough? Could your crying be that much uglier? Tell me, you hapless little slattern and rest assured I will do everything in my power to ensure that you NEVER seek out such a contest ever ag--”
A look of almost comical surprise passed over the Briton’s face when Renquist shifted her weight and slid her right knee into position against the canvas. Now off balance in her previously comfortable seat, Cromwell kept yanking and tearing at Macy’s hair, but she also got to her feet so she could THUMP a Butt Bomb into the center of Renquist’s spine as soon as she made it to her knees! The bum-on-back impact forced Macy down flat, though Elizabeth was quick to re-trap her arms.
“You‘ve yet to answer my question, you sniveling piece of trash.” Lizzie’s tone was quite pleasant as she threaded her hands beneath the blonde’s chin. “Perhaps it’s too vexing, shall I offer you an easier one?” Mashing the heels of her palms into the trapped beauty’s cheeks, Cromwell leaned in close and cooed, “Who’s the best wrestler in the Lightweight Division?”
“You’re in the ring with her, bytch.”
Elizabeth looked unperturbed, though she made a point of jouncing her rival’s head up and down. “Who’s the best?”
“Me.”
“Enough of your lies, brat. Who’s the best?”
“Weren’t you listening? I am!”
“One more chance.” Cromwell hissed. “Who’s the best? Say her name.”
“Macy RenquiSSHHHRRRRGGGAAHHH!”
Three fingers on each side (index, middle and ring), that’s how many Lizzie slipped into Macy’s mouth before pulling back with every bit of her sinewy strength. “Don’t waste your breath.” the brunette told Al Carpenter when he came over to check on Macy. “This slag forfeited the right to submit to you long ago. Her only hope of escaping my not so tender mercies is to beg me directOOOOOWWWWWWW WHORE!”
The Fishhook was hellishly painful and Renquist already knew she’d hate the look on her face when she went back to watch the match, but she endured it for the sole purpose of biting down on Elizabeth’s encroaching fingers just as hard as she could! Cromwell shrieked to wake the dead and yanked her digits free of the blonde’s gnashing maw before scrambling to verticality with both hands held protectively against her chest.
As for Macy, she instinctively rolled in the opposite direction and didn’t bother rising to one knee until she felt the slightly-yielding springiness of the bottom rope. Wincing as she pressed a hand to her stinging scalp, the Beach Blaster smoothed her hair as best she could and stared daggers through Lizzie, who was eyeing her with similar fury.
Lips curled in a smile like charring paper, the brunette asked, “What’s wrong, little harlot? Did I pull your pretty hair too hard? Next time I’ll pull out a fistful.”
“Try it and I’ll break your fingers, bytch.” Renquist answered once she’d made it to her feet. “Swear to God, I’ll break your fingers.”
Cromwell sniffed in obvious disdain. “Please. We both know you don’t have the will for such threats. That’s why I left ‘Mania a winner and you spent the night with your hand in an ice ba--”
“Gonna wish you hadn’t worn a belt tonight, Liz.” Macy interrupted. “Especially after I tear it off and lay it across your back a few dozen times.”
Elizabeth’s dark eyes narrowed to slots as she touched a thumb to the delicate silver clasp just below her navel. “Will you now?”
“Yes I will. And sooner than you’d like.”
A buzz became a murmur that grew into a rumble when Cromwell undid the clasp and pulled that strip of black leather loose with a dry, sibilant hiss. Renquist had expected the Briton to let the belt hang from her fist, so she was mildly surprised when Elizabeth wrapped it around her right hand over and over again. “So you want me belt, sand trash?” she chirped. “Come over here and I’ll give it to--”
Macy did as bade, the lissome blonde almost flying across the ring to meet her rival’s challenge with a Bytch Slap locked and loaded! The Young Lioness saw what was coming but instead of trying to beat her blonde to the punch, she raised her left hand to bait out a quick slap before snatching a fistful of Renquist’s hair! Hissing with delight when a single hard tug shivered her opponent’s knees, Elizabeth wrenched the Floridian’s head back to better expose her chin for a leather-wrapped Haymak--“NNGGHHHH!”
Macy fired a second slap, one that struck Cromwell’s right ear with a flat CRACK! Two more followed in rapid succession, both overhand efforts that jostled Lizzie’s girls within the tastefully sporty confines of her black sports-bra. One more earned her the Briton’s back, a heavy forehand to the tummy that raised an immediate welt on her foe’s pale abdomen. Stuffing a hand into Macy’s face to create a little confusion as she turned around, Elizabeth didn’t even make it three steps before Renquist hooked her fingers into the strap of her sports-bra and pulled as hard as she could. Eyes going wide as she laid a protective arm across her chest, Lizzie started to voice a warning that became a pained yelp when Macy let that straining lycra snap against her bare back with a sound like ice cracking on a country pond!
The Boarding School Princess jolted and lurched forward, her belt-wrapped hand straining for the ropes while her left rubbed at the new-- “UUUFFFFHHH!” The Slappin’ Sensation smashed a shoulder into Cromwell’s back and drove her the rest of the way to the ropes where she promptly looped an arm around the brunette’s waist and began to HAMMER Forearm Smashes into Elizabeth’s lower back.
“BYTCH, GET OFF ME!” Cromwell roared as she tried to persuade Renquist the hell away with a flurry of Back Elbows fired over her right shoulder. Macy pulled away to avoid the first few shots, then went low to duck in and drive a shoulder into the small of her opponent’s back. “Ropes! Ropes goddammit!” Cromwell hooked an arm over the top rope to remind the idiots she’d reached sanctuary. “Get away from me you savERRHH!”
Renquist reached around with both hands already curled into talons, pressed them to the brunette’s tummy and yanked in opposite directions to score Lizzie’s midriff with a swift Tiger Claw! Elizabeth cursed, looked for the idiot Carpenter for assistance but didn’t lay an eye on him before the Slappin’ Sensation straightened up and CLAPPED both ears with a whistling Bell Ringer!
Pressing in tight against Lizzie’s back as she finally went woozy against the strands, Macy gouged her chin into the side of the brunette’s neck when she whispered in her ear. “How many times do I have to remind you, princess? There’s no help in the ropes. I thought a bad-ass catfighter like you would rrrggggghhhh!”
Elizabeth reached back, grabbed hold of the Floridian’s hair and pulled as hard as she could. “You’ll forgive me for the lapse,” Cromwell hissed as she tried to bare a patch of her rival’s scalp, “I’m afraid the overwhelming stench of your mediocrity is dulling my usually razor sharp sensOOOOOWWWWW YOU TROLLOP!”
Despite the beachy beginnings of her combative career, Macy Renquist considered herself a wrestler first and foremost, so it surprised everyone (herself included) when she reached through the ropes to clamp her claws onto the Brit’s modest bosom! “Wail all you want.” Macy sneered, her breath hot and angry against Elizabeth’s cheek. “But you’re not getting out of these ropes until I hear tears on NNNGGHH!”
Cromwell raised her right foot and brought it down hard, her heel smashing onto the blonde’s toes! This would’ve earned her freedom in a previous encounter as Renquist always fought barefoot, tonight however she’d chosen sturdy wrestling shoes and while the stomp was hardly pleasant, the padding allowed her to endure even when the Boarding School Princess began to grind her heel. “Hrrhhh… any tears shed in your presence are strictly joy or hilarity.” Lizzie rasped as she continued to mangle the blonde’s foot while Macy ravaged her girls. “Your best offensive efforts are just that. OffensAAAAIIIIIEEEEEE!”
Surprised, albeit delighted cheers when Renquist narrowed her focus to pincers, that pitiless plucking earning a yowl from Cromwell as she went weak in the knees. “You want offensive, Miss Priss?” Renquist hissed. “See how you like this.”
A single Kneelift to the lower back slowed Lizzie enough for Macy to pull her away from the ropes, then bend her over and shove her upper body between the top and middle ropes. A huge handful of hair made Cromwell yelp and also straightened her up, which allowed the Beach Blaster to thread her arms over the top rope. The cattier-minded FAWNatics hoped Renquist would resume her previous strategy, but the blonde slid her grips back to Cromwell’s wrists while simultaneously bracing her left foot against the hollow of the other wrestler’s back.
“NNNNNNGGAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Lizzie couldn’t suppress a shriek once Macy pulled back on her wrists to put incredible strain on the Englishwoman’s shoulders and spine with a rope-assisted Surfboard.
“Ask her!” Renquist told Al once she’d worked the hold for about ten seconds. “Ask her if she quits!”
“What do you say, Elizabeth?” Al got as close as he dared while remaining out of possible swiping range. “Need me to call for the bell?”
Cromwell shook her head ‘no’ at once, though the pain stamped upon her delicate features suggested it wasn’t as easy a denial as it might’ve been only a minute prior. Her refusal didn’t bother Macy at all, indeed she seemed more determined than ever when she pulled her foot away, then THUMPED it into the center of her opponent’s back.
“Remember how you tried to break my fingers at ‘Mania?” Now it was the blonde grinding her heel against Lizzie’s vertebrae. “How you exploited the count and the ref to do as much damage as quickly as possible?”
“Oh yes.” Cromwell sneered. “I loved every second of NNNNGGGHH!”
Renquist stomped / pulled again, the increased strain thrusting the Young Lioness’ chest out in a fashion she would’ve found galling if she wasn’t worried about her shoulders separating. “I know you did.” Macy huffed. “Can you imagine how much I enjoy not having to deal with a couEEERRRRHHHHHH!”
Just such a thought had already crossed Cromwell’s mind and she knew she had to escape the blonde’s machinations with all due haste. To that end she began to work her wrists back and forth, slowly at first, then faster and faster. These efforts didn’t free her hands, but they forced Renquist to adjust her own grips to keep the Surfboard snug and that’s when the Englishwoman flicked a foot backward and drove it into her attacker’s shin!
Macy let loose and hobbled backward, the former Lightweight Champion hopping on her other foot while she tried to massage the pain away. As for Cromwell, she pulled her arms away from the ropes and immediately tumbled out of the ring to land in rough heap on the thin blue mats below. Impact not withstanding, the mats were pleasantly cool and Lizzie might’ve stayed there for quite some time if not for the hateful roar of those idiot fans and one simple, galling fact.
She was losing.
The disgusting blonde had stripped her down and shown her off like she was little more than Daytona-grade bikini meat and that was simply unacceptable. “You screamed for me once,” Cromwell whispered as she tightened her right hand around the belt that somehow hadn’t come loose, “you’ll scream even louder tonight.”
With that promise in mind the Boarding School Princess clambered to one knee, then grabbed onto the apron and hauled herself upright to--THUMP! Macy dove under the bottom rope with a Baseball Slide Dropkick that smashed Elizabeth’s chest and sent her backpedaling across the narrow aisle to collide with the steel guardrail!
“Should’ve known I’d have to bring the fight to you.” Renquist muttered as she scrambled to verticality. “That’s fine though, I love watching you run away.” On that note the Slappin’ Sensation took to her heels and did some running of her own, Macy sprinting to the far side of the squared circle just to come back with a low, predatory dive that took her through the space between the bottom and middle ro--TWAAAAAANG! Elizabeth rushed forward, grabbed the bottom strand and yanked it up so Macy went face-first into the rubber-coated steel!
Eyes shiny with involuntary tears, Renquist hit the mat and wrapped her head in her arms, thus ensuring she couldn’t defend herself when Cromwell rolled her onto her back. “I hope you enjoyed that illusion of dominance.” Liz cooed to the blonde as she helped herself to a double handful of hair. “Because I promise the reality of your situation is far less pleasant.”
To that end she pulled Macy a little way out, then twisted around and set the back of the Floridian’s head against her right shoulder. Another few steps ensured Renquist of an unenviable landing when Cromwell went up on tiptoe and dropped to a seat to THWHUNK the blonde’s noggin with a nasty Hangman’s Neckbreaker! Renquist jolted like a downed power-line, then curled into a tight ball with both arms swaddling the back of her skull.
Beside her, Elizabeth Cromwell made a show of smoothing out her hair before pushing to one knee. “You dared strip me for the amusement of these slavering hyenas.” the brunette murmured after she’d grabbed hold of Macy’s tank-top. “Therefore it’s only fair that I sate their awful appetite in similar fashion.”
“Guuuuuhhh… go f*ck yourself you nasty HHHRRRRHHHH!”
Macy’s answer was interrupted by Cromwell carrying out her threat, the brunette furiously pulling and wrenching on her foe’s tank-top in an effort to peel it over her head. The Slappin’ Sensation didn’t make it easy, in fact her resistance irked Lizzie to such an extent that the Briton released her grip when the distended garment was bunched up across her opponent’s face. Rolling onto her knees as soon as she realized she’d won the tug of war, Macy started to wriggle her top back into its previous alignment when--“AAAAAWWW FAAAAAAAAAHK!” the blonde shrieked, her world exploding in anguish thanks to the pitiless touch of leather on bare skin.
“My, my, that welt is lovely!” Elizabeth cooed over the jeers of the crowd and the groans of her opposition. “Seems lonely, though. Perhaps I can…” she lashed out with the belt again, this time laying an angry red stripe across Macy’s tummy!
Renquist wailed, rolled away and scrambled to her feet, the former Lightweight Champion finally succeeding in tugging her traitorous tank-top down into a far less obtrusive (and slightly more protective) arrange--“NNNNGGHHH!” Cromwell rushed in and caught her opponent flush in the chest with a Dropkick made all the worse by dint of driving Renquist into the side of the steel steps with an echoing BWANG!
Tossing her belt onto the apron after she’d scrambled to verticality, Lizzie grabbed a double handful of Macy’s hair and hauled her upright with several sharp tugs. “What do you think I’ll see first?” Cromwell growled. “Blood or tears? Wait, don’t guess. I’d rather be surprised!”
Not like Macy got the chance to offer a reply of any sort, Lizzie simply stormed across the aisle and whipped Renquist off her feet with a Hair Mare that BWAAANGED the Beach Blaster against the steel barrier with enough force to bruise the shins of a few fans in the front row. Macy hit the floor in a groaning heap, one arm wrapped around the back of her skull while the other tried to protect her welted midsection.
Extremely pleased by the agonized, defenseless condition of her rival, Liz murmured, “Now, let’s get you out of that rag, shall we?” Renquist responded with groans rather than sass, thus ensuring Cromwell looked suitably insufferable when she bent over and pulled Macy’s tank-top away with one, two, three aggressive yanks. Smirking in the face of the resultant vitriol, Elizabeth earned some cheers by teasing a toss of that shorn top only to snatch them all back by tearing it in half with a low, vaguely sibilant rrrrrrrriiiiiiiiip!
“Get up, trollop.” Lizzie nudged the American’s gulping tummy with the toe of one shoe. “If I have to bend down to pick you off the floor, I promise you’ll lose some OOFFFHHH!”
Renquist sat up and drove a single straight punch into the Briton’s navel! That shot was enough to back the Boarding School Princess up, unfortunately it wasn’t enough to let Macy regain her feet as she was still rising when the brunette rushed in, snatched a massive fistful of hair and SMASHED the back of her head against the guardrail!
That concussive collision turned Renquist’s legs to water and she dropped to her butt in a slumped sprawl that made her lap a perfect seat for the Young Lioness. Palming the other woman’s noggin in her hands, Cromwell tilted Macy’s head backward to force some smoldering eye contact. “You’re helpless, beach trash.” Liz cooed. “And I want to hear you admit it as loud as you possibly can. Don’t make me wait or I’ll make you suffeerrrrgggghhh!”
Macy reached up with both hands and clamped down on the brunette’s modest bounty. “That feel helpless to you, prisSSUUUUNNNGGHHH!”
Elizabeth smashed a Headbutt between Renquist’s eyes which in turn banged the back of her head against the barricade! Brushing her foe’s claws away with minimal fuss, Cromwell plunged her hands into Macy’s hair and quickly drew it backward into a ponytail that she proceeded to wrap around the sturdy metal column behind the blonde’s head. “Did you really think a relaxed rule set would favor you?” Elizabeth sneered as she tied those long locks in an ugly knot. “You poor, deluded, little slattern, you were never going to best HHRRRGGGHH!”
Not yet fully aware what the Briton had done to her, Renquist interrupted Lizzie with a brisk slap, then shoved her aside and started to ri--“Nnnnhhhh! What the? Sneaky bytch, what’ve you donURRGH!”
Cromwell put a stop to those insolent questions with a couple hard punches to the Beach Blaster’s belly before climbing back onto Renquist’s lap. “What’ve I done?” Lizzie teased as she tapped the tip of Macy’s nose. “So far I’ve whipped you with a belt, stripped you of your top and tied your greasy hair to this undeserving barricade. Alas, that’s just the start. Because now… I’m going to make you CRY!”
The Young Lioness crooked her hands into claws and began to rake Macy’s breasts with devilish relish! Renquist didn’t actually cry (at least not to Elizabeth’s satisfaction) though the keening noise emanating from deep in her throat told the brunette she was on the right path. Shifting from raking to squeezing, Cromwell jostled her wrists violently and hissed, “Show me those tears you strutting little poseur! Bawl for my pleasure or I’ll tear claw you to ribbEEERRRRHH!”
Understanding that her options were quite limited at the moment, Macy Renquist grabbed onto her opponent’s pert bust and began to knead like she was working particularly stiff dough! “Come on then, cupcake.” the Slappin’ Sensation rasped. “Give it all you’ve got. I’ll do the same and we’ll see who cries first.”
Elizabeth’s brow crinkled in consternation, the former Lightweight Champion both infuriated and intrigued by the challenge. “Your terms are acceptable.” she hissed. “I hope you chose waterproof mascarOOOWWWW!”
Macy doubled down on her own efforts, the usually technically-minded grappler returning to her catty beach wrestling roots to rip, rake, scrape and score her rival’s girls! The unexpected increase in aggression threw Cromwell off long enough for Renquist to slip her hands under the snug armor of Elizabeth’s sports-bra. “Desperate brat.” Macy grunted. “Surprised you didn’t try to tie my hands behind my back TOOOOOHHHHH GAAAAAHHH!”
Not about to give any ground in this belligerent bust battle, Cromwell went under her opponent’s top as well, but where Macy chose to claw, she chose to pinch, the callous brunette tweasing and tweaking as hard as the close confines would allow. “As if I need such a ridiculous handicap to humiliate the likes of you.” Lizzie hissed. “My will and wiles are so far beyond yours well… it almost brings a tear to my eye!” With that she twisted her wrists once, twice, three times, then pulled as hard as she could, the resultant jolt of anguish causing Renquist to throw her head back in a loud wail that was cut off the instant she BANGED against the damned guardrail.
Amping up her efforts even as she watched a gleam gather at the corners of Macy’s eyes, Lizzie leaned in and planted a kiss on one cheek before she whispered, “Submit to me, beach trash. Whisper surrender before you cry out to the official and I’ll allow you to leave with your jeans around your waist and not your ankAAAARRRRHHHH VILE SLAG!”
Cromwell’s desire to hear her rival’s shame proved a costly error as it allowed the Beach Blaster to dart forward and chomp down on the side of her neck! Forgetting all about her cruel clawing, Elizabeth pushed Macy back with enough force to shift that whole section of the barricade by several inches. Just like that she regained her footing and--“NNNGGHHH!”
Renquist pulled both knees to her chest and slammed a massive Mule Kick into the Englishwoman’s tummy! Cromwell folded up around those encroaching feet even as she flew across the aisle looking like a shotgunned thug in a Jon Woo flick. Indeed, Lizzie’s arc of descent had barely begun when she THWHUNKED shoulders-first into the edge of the ring apron! That impact turned her arc into a straight vertical plunge and Cromwell landed flat on her butt, the brunette’s usual haughtiness replaced with woozy hurt as she gingerly massaged the base of her neck with one hand.
Things weren‘t much better for Macy, though her movements were more frenetic as she fumbled and tugged at her own hair in hopes of freeing herself from the Young Lioness’ damnable trap. Cursing aloud when several seconds of work brought no discernable progress, Renquist asked, “Hey, can someone back there help me out? A nasty brat’s wreaked havoc on my hair.”
There was a bit of shifting in chairs before someone said, “Yeah, sure. Ummmh, what do you want me to do?”
“Just undo the knots in my hair, please.” the Beach Blaster answered. “And if you can do it before she’s back on her feet I’ll give you my headphones.”
“Really? Ok, gimme a sec.) This was followed by a sound very much like fingers hastily scrubbed against a napkin and win or lose Renquist decided she’d sign her headphones too because this guy was considerate enough to not get Cheeto dust or pizza sauce in her hair.
Back in the shadow of the squared circle, Lizzie Cromwell rolled to all fours, then grabbed hold of the apron and used it to haul herself upright. Speaking as quietly as she could, Macy muttered, “Not trying to rush you my dude, but if you could--”
“Done!”
The pressure at the nape of her neck disappeared and Renquist was up in a blink with both hands raised high overhead to--CRAAAAAACK! Elizabeth wailed in confused pain, twisted around to locate her attacker and--CRAAAAAACK! Macy caught her again, the stereo slap jostling the brunette’s modest juggs within their lycra confines!
“BYTCH!” Cromwell roared before sweeping Renquist into a sloppy clench that sent both women barreling into the guardrail with a painful BWANG. “You’re going to wish you’d stayed tied up.” Elizabeth hissed as she wrapped her hands against Macy’s throat and began to squeeze. “Then you’d have an excuse for losing. But now? Now you simply have to acknowledge that I’m bettAAAAUUUUGGGGGHHH!”
The FAWNatic who’d freed Renquist from her follicular prison thrust a beer in her direction and Macy snatched it for the sole purpose of hurling the contents in the Englishwoman’s face!
Wailing in incredulous outrage, Cromwell threw it into full reverse, both hands swiping at her be-sudsed features as she tried to put some distance between herself and the disgusting Floridian. She’d made it maybe half the length of the ring when Macy caught up, the resurgent blonde yanking her rival’s arms behind her back in a rough Double Chickenwing. Cromwell went taut and raised a foot as soon as she was seized but she didn’t connect with the Low Blow because Renquist interrupted it with a single Kneelift that skewered her opponent’s tailbone! Elizabeth’s legs went loose enough for Macy to peel her away from the guardrail and once they were clear she dipped her legs and popped her hips to take the Boarding School Princess up, over, and down onto the back of her head and shoulders courtesy a huge Tiger Suplex!
The throw left Cromwell stacked up ass over teakettle, but the Slappin’ Sensation made no effort to hold her there. Instead she rolled to one knee and took several deep, steadying breaths. Feeling much better shortly thereafter, Macy shoveled the Briton onto her stomach, then took hold of her wrists and pulled them out so her palms were flat on the blue mats. “Been waiting a while for this, you bytch.” Renquist explained as she carefully set her feet atop the brunette’s hands.
“Guuuuhhhh… get your bloody arse offa me, beach trasSSSHHAAAARRRHH!”
A mixture of cheers and sympathetic groans from the audience when Macy stood up and began to grrrrrrrrriiiiind Cromwell’s hands beneath the soles of her shoes! “BYTCH!” Lizzie shrieked as scrambled to her knees, a shift that didn’t free her from the blonde’s nasty trap. “GET OFF OF ME OR I’LL--” Rather than waste energy finishing the threat, the Young Lioness reared back as far as she could in anticipation of slamming a Headbutt into Macy’s gro--CRAAAAAACK!
Renquist foiled the effort with a whistling Bytch Slap that hit hard enough to make Cromwell’s ears ring! Bolstered by the pleasantly warm tingle in her slappin’ hand, Macy buried the other in her rival’s hair and wrenched her head backward so Elizabeth was squinting into the overhead lights.
“What’re you gonna do, princess?” Renquist asked quietly. She followed her question with a second slap, not quite as hard as the first, but more than enough to make the brunette bare her teeth in pain and anger. Apparently that wasn’t enough for Macy, who proceeded to slap the penitent Lioness three, four, five more times, each new round accompanied by a repetition of her question, “What’re you gonna do?”
“I’M GONNA RUIN YOU!” Lizzie roared. She never stopped trying to free her hands, but the barrage of unprotected slaps were slowly eroding her resistance, as well as her reaction time. “Cheating tramp.” she hissed after another head-swiveling shot. “You know I’d ruin you in a fair fight, that’s why you’re NNNGGGGHHH!”
The Beach Blaster stretched her arms into a huge ‘T’ just to bring her hands together on either side of Cromwell’s noggin in a colossal Bell Ringer! Elizabeth slumped in place, her forehead almost touching the protective mats. Above her, Macy took a moment to catch her breath in the hope of subduing the anger that’d welled up when the Englishwoman hit her with the ‘F’ word.
“Fair? You don’t get to use that word after ‘Mania. In fact, if you really want to talk fair…” Renquist slid her left foot from Cromwell’s right hand, then grabbed hold of that wrist and pulled her arm up at an angle that forced the brunette to return to her knees.
“Yuuuuuhhhh…. you miserable slattern.” Elizabeth mumbled over the awful keening in her ears. “You don’t deserve to breathe my air, let alone share my rinGOOOOOOOWW STAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHP!”
Macy, who’d slipped three of the brunette’s fingers into her mouth for some mean-spirited nibbling, did no such thing. “CARPENTER YOU LUMMOX, SHE’S BITING MEEEEAAAAAAARRRRRRHHHHH!”
This didn’t come as a revelation to Al, he’d watched their entire war from the edge of the squared circle without making an effort to interfere because neither wrestler had sought a submission since they went to the floor. Not content to simply chew, Macy pulled Lizzie’s fingers out of her mouth, then wrapped a hand around those vulnerable digits and began to bend them backward!
“Not fun is it, prissy?” Renquist muttered. “Being tortured in front of a huge audience? Using everything you’ve got to escape, but failing at every turn because--”
“BECAUSE YOU’RE WEAK!” Elizabeth screamed at her rival. “YOU’RE NOT EVEN A REAL WRESTLER, YOU’RE JUST SOME YOUTUBE SIDESHOW FREAAAAAAAWWWWW SHYT!”
Macy added her other hand to the grip on Cromwell’s fingers and repaid another torment from ‘Mania by yanking them into an ungodly ‘V’ shape. “Where do you want to finish this, Lizzie?” Renquist hissed. “Out here, on the ‘street’? Or back in the ring, like wrestlers? Your wish is my command, prissy.”
“THEN EAT SHYT AND DIE!” Cromwell raged. “JUST LEGGO OF MY BLOODY HANDS BEFORE YOU AAARRRRRHHHHH!” The Slappin’ Sensation cranked the Wishbone harder than ever before finally slinging Elizabeth’s mangled hand away.
Hand pressed to her chest, the brunette threw herself under the bottom rope, scrambled to her feet and made a beeline for Al Carpenter. “Hold her back!” she demanded to the official. “Bytch is trying to maimAAAAARRRRRHHHHH!”
Lizzie shrieked at the top of her lungs when Macy crept up from behind and CRAAAAAACKED her between the shoulders with a massive Overhand Bytch Slap. Snatching hold of Cromwell’s right wrist when the Briton reached to investigate the welt, Renquist turned her foe around, then took a giant step back and dipped her knees to send Elizabeth racing toward a corner on the far side of the ring.
So relieved to be out of the blonde’s clutches that she almost didn’t notice the buckles closing in, Cromwell regained her wits at the last second and swung around to ensure she hit back-first. Painful though it was, she was grateful for the adjustment as it meant she got a split-second to prepare for rushing her way with a Running Bytch Sl--“NNNGGGGHHHH!” Lizzie hoisted her knees and slammed a huge Mule Kick into the American’s sternum!
“GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD, SLAG!” Cromwell bellowed as Macy staggered back toward the center of the ring. “YOUR SLAPS ARE SHYT! YOU ARE SH--”
Macy rushed her again so Elizabeth lowered a shoulder and stuffed it into the American’s midriff! She straightened up with every intention of launching Renquist over the top rope to the floor below, so you can imagine her surprise when Macy clamped her legs around the brunette’s noggin and grabbed the rubber-coated steel in both hands. This was certainly better than a plunge to the floor, but it was still fraught with peril since Cromwell promptly wrapped her arms around the Floridian’s calves so she could rip her out of the corner for-- ‘OOOOOHHH!’ from the incredulous FAWNatics as Macy swung in tight against Lizzie’s back, wrapped her up in a Waistlock and spun through to flip her rival end over end for a THWHONKING skull-on-canvas collision!
CREATURE FROM THE BLUE LAGOON @ 1:39
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2m-CxqPbVoQ&t=109s
Somersaulted onto her knees by the Creature from the Blue Lagoon, Cromwell didn’t even wheeze when the blonde shoved her flat and climbed aboard, Renquist gouging her knees into Elizabeth’s flanks so she could palm her shoulders and offer a ferocious nod for count of the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The Beach Blaster was on her feet at once, the exhausted former champ actually roaring with triumph when the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… MACY RENQUIST!”
Carpenter moved in to raise her hand, but Macy only tolerated it for a few seconds before pulling away. Eyes locked on the prone, insensate form of Elizabeth Cromwell, she circled around to her rival’s feet, then bent down and earned a confused murmur from the crowd when she began…pulling at Lizzie’s shoes?
“Ummh, Macy? You ok?” Al asked after his charge liberated one sneaker and set to work on the other.
“Much better now, Al.” she answered without hesitation. “Just needed to get these out of the way. Otherwise I couldn’t…” Renquist tromped a few steps north, then grabbed hold of the brunette’s waistband and started to yank!
The ref didn’t much approve but the crowd sure as hell loved, their volume growing louder and louder as the Slappin’ Sensation got some revenge for ‘Mania by stripping away Elizabeth’s street fight armor to leave her clad in nothing but a sports bra and strappy black panties.
“That’s what you f*cking get!” Renquist barked down at Cromwell after the denim was discarded and her foe was beginning to stir. “That’s just what you goddamned deserve, you--”
“I’m going to rip you apart.” Elizabeth hissed in a mixture of humiliation and fury. “Do you think this is over, beach trash? Next time we fight I’ll NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! STOP! STOP IT YOU VILE TWAT!”
Macy straddled the brunette’s waist and started slapping away, the victrix landing nearly a dozen shots to her foe’s face and chest before Al prized her off. “MAKE ME!” Renquist barked in response. She fought like a madwoman but Carpenter wouldn’t let go until Elizabeth managed to slide out of the ring. “Enjoy that walk of shame, bytch.” Macy hissed to the departing grappler. “The next one will be even worse.”
“You have no idea how right you are.” Cromwell replied as she started limping up the ramp. “You’re going to bawl when I take my revenge. Just a constant stream of blubbering tears and quitter snot pouring down your fa--”
Renquist scooped of Lizzie’s jeans, rushed the ropes and tossed them after the departing brunette. “Wipe your tears with that, loser.”
The Young Lioness made no move to retrieve her clothes, she just stood there watching Macy with dark, hating eyes. “Hear my words and hear them well, Macy Renquist.” she said softly. “This is the LAST time you will ever have your hand raised after a match with me. There is a reckoning, no, a shaming, coming. And it will destroy you.”
“Whenever you want, Elizabeth.” Macy murmured. “Whenever you want, wherever you want, however you want.”
Cromwell offered no answer, she just turned her back after a final sniff and stomped up the ramp without a word to even the most vocal of hecklers.
Macy watched the Englishwoman go, almost took off after her. In the end she decided against it. Finishing things with Lizzie could wait until the brat worked up her courage again. Tonight she had a victory circuit to strut. And a pair of headphones to sign.