Post by SammieSinclair on Sept 19, 2014 6:01:11 GMT
It was, without a doubt, one of the most highly anticipated rematches in recent FAWN memory. Earlier in the year, Mariska Barinova returned after a lengthy absence from the league, with a new look, new attitude and new skils. But if her return was a surprise, what she accomplished that evening was a genuine shocker! Not only did she defeat Ivy Armstrong fair and square, but she then proceeded to humiliate the ‘Bama Slamma by knocking her out with her own fabled finisher, the Southern Charm.
Indeed, since that event, the Russian has insisted that reporters and commentators refer to that hold, regardless of who employs it, by her name for it: The Red Star. Suffice it to say, Armstrong has utterly refused to do so, but she’s had no reluctance to demand a return match in order to avenge herself. Now, at last, the two women…each possessing pairs of the finest legs that have ever trod a FAWN ring…are meeting again.
Fans had eagerly counted the days until the match arrived, until at last the moment had come. “Ladies and gentlemen,” blared the announcer. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Uriah, Alabama, she stands five feet eight tall and weighs one-hundred and twenty pounds...she is a former FAWN World Champion, and the very first Television Champ...she is...IIIIIVYYYYYYY AAAAAAAARMSTROOOOOOONG!!!”
Stunning in a red and black satin corset and matching black panties, Ivy reached out to slap palms and brush fingertips with many of the outstretched hands, while her green eyes scanned the crowd for supportive signs. One neatly lettered posterboard reads: BACK TO RUSSIA, WITH CHARM!
Next, the voice from the PA announces, “And her opponent, hailing from Volgograd, Russia, standing five feet, seven inches tall and weighing in at one-hundred and ten pounds, she is…MARISKAAAAA BAAARANOOOOOOVAAAAAA!!!”
As the curtain parts, the blonde strides out, her long, colt-like legs carrying her down the aisle with an almost arrogant haughtiness. She is garbed in a black satin corset bustier with black lace fringe, and a black mini tutu skirt. Her magnificent legs are encased in black fishnets, while on her feet are black ballet slippers. Completing the dark look is deep purple mascara over her eyes. She spots a supportive sign in the crowd…RED STARS FALL ON ALABAMA TONIGHT…and she gives her booster a wink. In the ring, she removes the skirt and hands it to an attendant, revealing her black satin panties.
As the each enter the ring, the Russian…the very epitome of smugness…demands a microphone, and before one and all she challenges Armstrong to “what you Americans call ‘Indian Leg Wrestling’…that is, unless you are afraid?” Never one to back down from a challenge, Ivy accepts, and both wrestlers lay on their backs nearly side-by-side, but each facing the opposite direction.
Both battlers then each lifts her right leg straight up before they hook their gams together behind the knees. With small grunts, they then struggle against one another, the fans cheering them on (with the Armstrong contingent noticeably louder).
Now, it’s common knowledge that Ivy possesses some of the most powerful legs in the sport, and against virtually any other foe, victory in a contest such as this would be almost a given. However, Barinova is not any other foe…she is a former professional ballerina. And if there is any woman in FAWN who can give Armstrong’s stems a run for their money, it’s the Russian. A fact which she demonstratively proves as she slowly drives the limb of her rival backward, the redhead’s grunts turning to a small, sharp whine as she is overpowered.
Before she knows what is happening, Ivy’s leg is pressed all the way down, her rear end thrust up into the air as she squirms helplessly. If this were during the match itself, there would be nothing she could do to prevent being pinned for the three count right now. Propped up on her elbows, the grinning blonde savors her small triumph. As in their previous encounter, she had employed psychology to outwit her adversary, luring the prideful American into accepting a test she almost certainly could not win. Barinova can rightly compliment herself on having knocked the proud redhead down another peg.
Finally releasing her hapless rival, Mariska saunters over to her corner to await for start of the formal match. But she is halted in her passage by the sharp words of her opponent: “Just hold on there, sugah! We played your game…now we play mine!” Without another word, the redhead lays down on her stomach, positioning her right arm on her elbow and holding her open hand up. The message is crystal clear: an arm wrestling contest.
Mariska warily considers the offer, then concludes she could not refuse it without appearing weak…although the temptation to instead stomp away at the redhead now foolishly prone on her stomach is difficult to resist. Joining Armstrong on the mat, the two clasp their right hands together, and an instant later their bodies tense mightily as each tries to force the other’s arm back and down.
And despite a determined effort, it is clear very quickly into the contest that Barinova is steadily losing ground. A lifetime of ballet may have made her legs twin pistons of devastation, but her upper body did not compare in terms of raw strength. Ivy, on the other hand, not only had mindboggling gams of her own, but years of chores on her Mama’s farm had allowed her to build up her entire body. As any country girl can tell you, hauling bales of hay will do wonders for your deltoids, biceps and triceps!
It would be wise for Mariska to simply concede this contest and conserve her remaining strength for the match to come. However, absolutely determined to not lose an inch of ground to the redhead, Barinova pours as much of her power as she can into her arm, teeth gritted, brow furrowed and beads of sweat breaking out across her skin. It’s an impressive effort, and it does manage to stave off defeat for another minute or so. But eventually, inevitably, her arm is pressed to the canvas. With a smug little grin, Ivy chuckles in triumph. Jumping up to her feet, she graciously offers her hand to help her adversary up, but the blonde derisively refuses the offer. Rising up and stalking back to her corner, she massages her now aching right arm, and silently curses herself for falling into the same trap she had sprung on her opponent just minutes before.
Now however, the time for the real contest has begun.
Unspoken between them beforehand…but understood implicitly from the moment this match was announced…was that this would be a contest of leg holds. Given that these two women possessed some of the finest gams to ever grace the FAWN ring, it could hardly be anything but.
Before the echo of the opening bell’s clang can even fade, the battle erupts between them, as each throws caution to the wind and rush toward each other. They lock up and struggle in center ring for several moments, until Barinova is able to execute a wristlock into a hammerlock, only instants later to Irish whip her opponent to the ropes. Armstrong bounds off of the ropes and rushes back toward the awaiting Russian, but if the blonde is expecting to retain her control of the match, she is rudely shown otherwise, courtesy of a push off dropkick that sends her flat onto her back.
Under other circumstances, the ‘Bama Slamma would have executed a sequence of any number of holds meant to wear her adversary down. However, she now forsakes that strategy and goes straight for a submission hold. Although she knows it’s far too early in the match to hope to draw a surrender from her rival, she also knows full well she has to wear down the Russian’s lethal limbs if she can have any hope of winning. So, to begin that process, she applies a Stretch Muffler.
http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXAVxiAThgo
However, as she moves to transition into a Cloverleaf, Mariska manages to execute an escape, culminating in a small package. Whether or not she could have scored a three count then and there remains academic, as the blonde releases the hold herself. As stated, pinfalls are of no interest to either woman tonight…they will accept nothing less than the submission of her rival, as her vaunted legs are tortured beyond all capacity to resist.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQHci_2Jv6A
Pressing her advantage, Barinova locks on a Gorilla Clutch, and displays her cruelty by letting her opponent have false hope of escape; Ivy drags herself across the canvas, only to be pulled back with only bare inches remaining between her outstretched hand and the rope. The redhead can only scream as the Russian torques up the pressure.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPHttH4BXpg
Now begins a tutorial, at least for the fans, as Barinova begins taking her nemesis through a litany of leg holds, each more agonizing than the last. She moves from the Hizajujigateme…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqKvbLf8bT8 (@ 2:06)
To the Sasorigateme…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hafznPCNaqM (@ 00:59)
And seems to have things well in hand with a Muta Lock…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3tPIUEQCEA (@ 5:19)
Amazingly, Armstrong is able to withstand all of the punishment, and she’s even able to turn the tide. Kneedrops to Mariska’s inner knees set the stage for a Turnpost Figure Four. The referee starts his count, as Ivy is outside of the ring as she applies it, and she waits until the count of four-and-three-quarters before releasing her victim.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5F0UWq7I-s (@ 4:28)
Back in the ring, the ‘Bama Slamma demonstrates that she’s able to teach the Bolshoi Ballerina a thing or two as well. First, she snared her from behind in a good old fashioned bodyscissors, the redhead’s sculpted gams squeezing the Russian’s waist like a vise grip. But that quickly metamorphasized into a Rolling Cradle, with Mariska wailing in shock and distress as she’s rolled over again and again.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AjIYdFdW_ks (@ 00:06)
Releasing her hold, Armstrong lets her rival stagger back up to her feet…only to be met with a Double Knee Facebuster!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_7ULkCLEN4 (@ 6:36)
Pulling the blonde back up by her hair and wrist, Ivy then attempts an Irish whip to the ropes, only to have Barinova manage to reverse it. However, as the American is thrown to the cables, she actually increases her pace, building speed as she suddenly somersaults forward to a handstand; her legs rebounding off of the strands, she flips back up to her feet, and uses the momentum to launch a Damage Reflex dropkick that levels Mariska.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQvVHsv2lTM (@ 00:30)
Upping the ante, the redhead locks on a Grapevine Ankle Hold, drawing forth piercing screams from the Russian…helped in no small part by Armstrong, rarely missing an opportunity for mischief, sinking her teeth into her adversary’s foot, which is only scantly protected by her ballet slippers.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TcGaZFJhoGU (@ 2:51)
Ultimately, Barinova is able to turn the tide…or, more precisely, the battle denigrates to a wild melee that neither savage beauty can control for long. Their magnificent legs are mottled with purpling bruises as they punish one another mercilessly. To the referee’s seemingly endless queries of “How about it…ready to give?”, he is met with flurries of “No! No! NO!” and “Nyet! Nyet! NYET!”, delivered through gritted teeth, as gasping rasps, or as agonized shrieks.
The minutes tick by…ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty. Both warriors are driven to their limits of exhaustion, and then pushed beyond, yet still neither so much as contemplates for an instant the option of submission. It becomes clear that this battle will only end with one beauty unconscious…or crippled.
The crippling option seems very viable once Barinova applies a Lotus Lock on her opponent. The redhead screams her throat raw as her tormentor’s impossibly powerful legs tighten their vise on her arms, straining the limbs to the cusp of pulling her shoulders from their sockets. The zebra once more asks his obligatory question, but this time, the only response from Ivy is a gurgling “Nnnnnnnnnuuuuuuhhhhh”…and then her head flops forward. For several long seconds, it appears to all that the Bama Slamma has been driven into unconsciousness from the pain.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5CGS_25qzc
But then suddenly her head snaps up, her green eyes wide and wild, and she gives a defiant howl. Mariska is unperturbed by her rival’s revitalization; indeed, she was briefly disappointed that her opponent was seemingly spent and beaten. Because the Russian isn’t interested in drawing a submission…she wants to conquer Armstrong yet again with her Red Star.
Releasing her Lotus, the blonde kicks her opponent in the back of her head, causing Ivy to flop face-first to the mat. Then the Russian crawls on all fours…her legs now too depleted to allow her to stand unaided…until she is seated on the canvas just above her victim’s head.
Barinova then grabs the redhead by her seat-soaked mane and pulls her face first into the Russian’s satin-covered crotch. The blonde then clamps her thighs around Armstrong’s head and locks her ankles. The crushing pain shocks Ivy from her stupor, and she begins to thrash wildly. Luckily for her, Mariska was unable to grab her wrists to immobilize her arms, which would have left the American utterly helpless.
Still, as the ballerina’s milky-white thighs pulsed around her skull, and as her breath was cut off as her mouth and nose were pressed up against her adversary’s groin, Ivy knew she was less than a minute away from being knocked out. Thus, she had to work swiftly if she had any hope of escape.
Getting her knees up under herself, and pushing up with her arms, she astonished everyone…most of all Mariska…by slowly but steadily managing to get to one knee, then pushing up and actually standing. All the while, the Russian kept her finisher locked on, so Armstrong was lifting the full weight of her opponent up off of the canvas with her. Finally upright, Ivy began to spin around, subjecting Barinova to a crude Tilt-A-Whirl, until finally the centrifugal force caused the blonde’s legs to snap open and she went sailing through the air, landing with a thud on the mat.
Somewhat stunned by this unexpected turn of events, Mariska sat up…and was met with a dropkick to the face that splayed her upon the canvas again, icy blue eyes now glassy and staring at the arena ceiling with a particular lack of perception.
On all fours, Armstrong grunts as she rolls the Russian over onto her belly. And now it is her turn to apply her identical finisher, the much more legendary Southern Charm. And as she’s canny enough to make certain she has a tight grasp on both of her rival’s wrists, the blonde has little hope of executing her own flabbergasting escape.
Ivy feels the short, hot breaths of her foe through the thin fabric of her panties, and sees the lights accentuate the musculature of her fabled legs as she pours every last bit of remaining strength into them. Mariska’s legs wriggle and her body squirms, but no serious attempts at powering out are made. She simply has nothing left in the tank.
Kneeling down as Barinova’s movements grow sluggish, until they cease altogether, the referee says, “Give me her arm Ivy, so I can check and see if she’s still awake.”
“Nothin’ doin’”, the Bama Slamma murmurs. “Ah’m not letting any bit of her go until you ring that bell!” Thus, the official has to improvise, and in an act that seems altogether fitting for this battle of stems, he lifts Barinova’s right leg once, twice, thrice…and all three times it thumps limply back to the canvas.
Satisfied, the ref signals for the bell, and the crowd erupts with a deafening roar. Releasing her hold, Armstrong tries to rise, but her legs…already asked of so much this night…simply crumple under her. She rolls under the ropes, and throws her arms around the shoulders of two ringside attendants, who slowly help her up the aisle. Not the most noble of exits, but certainly better than that of her beaten rival, who is carried from the ring on a stretcher.
*****
"Well, that's it for tonight, ladies and gentlemen," says Joanna. "It's been a great night of action, and we look forward to having you join us each and every week for more exciting SATURDAY NIGHT END GAMES!"
Indeed, since that event, the Russian has insisted that reporters and commentators refer to that hold, regardless of who employs it, by her name for it: The Red Star. Suffice it to say, Armstrong has utterly refused to do so, but she’s had no reluctance to demand a return match in order to avenge herself. Now, at last, the two women…each possessing pairs of the finest legs that have ever trod a FAWN ring…are meeting again.
Fans had eagerly counted the days until the match arrived, until at last the moment had come. “Ladies and gentlemen,” blared the announcer. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Uriah, Alabama, she stands five feet eight tall and weighs one-hundred and twenty pounds...she is a former FAWN World Champion, and the very first Television Champ...she is...IIIIIVYYYYYYY AAAAAAAARMSTROOOOOOONG!!!”
Stunning in a red and black satin corset and matching black panties, Ivy reached out to slap palms and brush fingertips with many of the outstretched hands, while her green eyes scanned the crowd for supportive signs. One neatly lettered posterboard reads: BACK TO RUSSIA, WITH CHARM!
Next, the voice from the PA announces, “And her opponent, hailing from Volgograd, Russia, standing five feet, seven inches tall and weighing in at one-hundred and ten pounds, she is…MARISKAAAAA BAAARANOOOOOOVAAAAAA!!!”
As the curtain parts, the blonde strides out, her long, colt-like legs carrying her down the aisle with an almost arrogant haughtiness. She is garbed in a black satin corset bustier with black lace fringe, and a black mini tutu skirt. Her magnificent legs are encased in black fishnets, while on her feet are black ballet slippers. Completing the dark look is deep purple mascara over her eyes. She spots a supportive sign in the crowd…RED STARS FALL ON ALABAMA TONIGHT…and she gives her booster a wink. In the ring, she removes the skirt and hands it to an attendant, revealing her black satin panties.
As the each enter the ring, the Russian…the very epitome of smugness…demands a microphone, and before one and all she challenges Armstrong to “what you Americans call ‘Indian Leg Wrestling’…that is, unless you are afraid?” Never one to back down from a challenge, Ivy accepts, and both wrestlers lay on their backs nearly side-by-side, but each facing the opposite direction.
Both battlers then each lifts her right leg straight up before they hook their gams together behind the knees. With small grunts, they then struggle against one another, the fans cheering them on (with the Armstrong contingent noticeably louder).
Now, it’s common knowledge that Ivy possesses some of the most powerful legs in the sport, and against virtually any other foe, victory in a contest such as this would be almost a given. However, Barinova is not any other foe…she is a former professional ballerina. And if there is any woman in FAWN who can give Armstrong’s stems a run for their money, it’s the Russian. A fact which she demonstratively proves as she slowly drives the limb of her rival backward, the redhead’s grunts turning to a small, sharp whine as she is overpowered.
Before she knows what is happening, Ivy’s leg is pressed all the way down, her rear end thrust up into the air as she squirms helplessly. If this were during the match itself, there would be nothing she could do to prevent being pinned for the three count right now. Propped up on her elbows, the grinning blonde savors her small triumph. As in their previous encounter, she had employed psychology to outwit her adversary, luring the prideful American into accepting a test she almost certainly could not win. Barinova can rightly compliment herself on having knocked the proud redhead down another peg.
Finally releasing her hapless rival, Mariska saunters over to her corner to await for start of the formal match. But she is halted in her passage by the sharp words of her opponent: “Just hold on there, sugah! We played your game…now we play mine!” Without another word, the redhead lays down on her stomach, positioning her right arm on her elbow and holding her open hand up. The message is crystal clear: an arm wrestling contest.
Mariska warily considers the offer, then concludes she could not refuse it without appearing weak…although the temptation to instead stomp away at the redhead now foolishly prone on her stomach is difficult to resist. Joining Armstrong on the mat, the two clasp their right hands together, and an instant later their bodies tense mightily as each tries to force the other’s arm back and down.
And despite a determined effort, it is clear very quickly into the contest that Barinova is steadily losing ground. A lifetime of ballet may have made her legs twin pistons of devastation, but her upper body did not compare in terms of raw strength. Ivy, on the other hand, not only had mindboggling gams of her own, but years of chores on her Mama’s farm had allowed her to build up her entire body. As any country girl can tell you, hauling bales of hay will do wonders for your deltoids, biceps and triceps!
It would be wise for Mariska to simply concede this contest and conserve her remaining strength for the match to come. However, absolutely determined to not lose an inch of ground to the redhead, Barinova pours as much of her power as she can into her arm, teeth gritted, brow furrowed and beads of sweat breaking out across her skin. It’s an impressive effort, and it does manage to stave off defeat for another minute or so. But eventually, inevitably, her arm is pressed to the canvas. With a smug little grin, Ivy chuckles in triumph. Jumping up to her feet, she graciously offers her hand to help her adversary up, but the blonde derisively refuses the offer. Rising up and stalking back to her corner, she massages her now aching right arm, and silently curses herself for falling into the same trap she had sprung on her opponent just minutes before.
Now however, the time for the real contest has begun.
Unspoken between them beforehand…but understood implicitly from the moment this match was announced…was that this would be a contest of leg holds. Given that these two women possessed some of the finest gams to ever grace the FAWN ring, it could hardly be anything but.
Before the echo of the opening bell’s clang can even fade, the battle erupts between them, as each throws caution to the wind and rush toward each other. They lock up and struggle in center ring for several moments, until Barinova is able to execute a wristlock into a hammerlock, only instants later to Irish whip her opponent to the ropes. Armstrong bounds off of the ropes and rushes back toward the awaiting Russian, but if the blonde is expecting to retain her control of the match, she is rudely shown otherwise, courtesy of a push off dropkick that sends her flat onto her back.
Under other circumstances, the ‘Bama Slamma would have executed a sequence of any number of holds meant to wear her adversary down. However, she now forsakes that strategy and goes straight for a submission hold. Although she knows it’s far too early in the match to hope to draw a surrender from her rival, she also knows full well she has to wear down the Russian’s lethal limbs if she can have any hope of winning. So, to begin that process, she applies a Stretch Muffler.
http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXAVxiAThgo
However, as she moves to transition into a Cloverleaf, Mariska manages to execute an escape, culminating in a small package. Whether or not she could have scored a three count then and there remains academic, as the blonde releases the hold herself. As stated, pinfalls are of no interest to either woman tonight…they will accept nothing less than the submission of her rival, as her vaunted legs are tortured beyond all capacity to resist.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQHci_2Jv6A
Pressing her advantage, Barinova locks on a Gorilla Clutch, and displays her cruelty by letting her opponent have false hope of escape; Ivy drags herself across the canvas, only to be pulled back with only bare inches remaining between her outstretched hand and the rope. The redhead can only scream as the Russian torques up the pressure.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPHttH4BXpg
Now begins a tutorial, at least for the fans, as Barinova begins taking her nemesis through a litany of leg holds, each more agonizing than the last. She moves from the Hizajujigateme…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqKvbLf8bT8 (@ 2:06)
To the Sasorigateme…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hafznPCNaqM (@ 00:59)
And seems to have things well in hand with a Muta Lock…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3tPIUEQCEA (@ 5:19)
Amazingly, Armstrong is able to withstand all of the punishment, and she’s even able to turn the tide. Kneedrops to Mariska’s inner knees set the stage for a Turnpost Figure Four. The referee starts his count, as Ivy is outside of the ring as she applies it, and she waits until the count of four-and-three-quarters before releasing her victim.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5F0UWq7I-s (@ 4:28)
Back in the ring, the ‘Bama Slamma demonstrates that she’s able to teach the Bolshoi Ballerina a thing or two as well. First, she snared her from behind in a good old fashioned bodyscissors, the redhead’s sculpted gams squeezing the Russian’s waist like a vise grip. But that quickly metamorphasized into a Rolling Cradle, with Mariska wailing in shock and distress as she’s rolled over again and again.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AjIYdFdW_ks (@ 00:06)
Releasing her hold, Armstrong lets her rival stagger back up to her feet…only to be met with a Double Knee Facebuster!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_7ULkCLEN4 (@ 6:36)
Pulling the blonde back up by her hair and wrist, Ivy then attempts an Irish whip to the ropes, only to have Barinova manage to reverse it. However, as the American is thrown to the cables, she actually increases her pace, building speed as she suddenly somersaults forward to a handstand; her legs rebounding off of the strands, she flips back up to her feet, and uses the momentum to launch a Damage Reflex dropkick that levels Mariska.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQvVHsv2lTM (@ 00:30)
Upping the ante, the redhead locks on a Grapevine Ankle Hold, drawing forth piercing screams from the Russian…helped in no small part by Armstrong, rarely missing an opportunity for mischief, sinking her teeth into her adversary’s foot, which is only scantly protected by her ballet slippers.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TcGaZFJhoGU (@ 2:51)
Ultimately, Barinova is able to turn the tide…or, more precisely, the battle denigrates to a wild melee that neither savage beauty can control for long. Their magnificent legs are mottled with purpling bruises as they punish one another mercilessly. To the referee’s seemingly endless queries of “How about it…ready to give?”, he is met with flurries of “No! No! NO!” and “Nyet! Nyet! NYET!”, delivered through gritted teeth, as gasping rasps, or as agonized shrieks.
The minutes tick by…ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty. Both warriors are driven to their limits of exhaustion, and then pushed beyond, yet still neither so much as contemplates for an instant the option of submission. It becomes clear that this battle will only end with one beauty unconscious…or crippled.
The crippling option seems very viable once Barinova applies a Lotus Lock on her opponent. The redhead screams her throat raw as her tormentor’s impossibly powerful legs tighten their vise on her arms, straining the limbs to the cusp of pulling her shoulders from their sockets. The zebra once more asks his obligatory question, but this time, the only response from Ivy is a gurgling “Nnnnnnnnnuuuuuuhhhhh”…and then her head flops forward. For several long seconds, it appears to all that the Bama Slamma has been driven into unconsciousness from the pain.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5CGS_25qzc
But then suddenly her head snaps up, her green eyes wide and wild, and she gives a defiant howl. Mariska is unperturbed by her rival’s revitalization; indeed, she was briefly disappointed that her opponent was seemingly spent and beaten. Because the Russian isn’t interested in drawing a submission…she wants to conquer Armstrong yet again with her Red Star.
Releasing her Lotus, the blonde kicks her opponent in the back of her head, causing Ivy to flop face-first to the mat. Then the Russian crawls on all fours…her legs now too depleted to allow her to stand unaided…until she is seated on the canvas just above her victim’s head.
Barinova then grabs the redhead by her seat-soaked mane and pulls her face first into the Russian’s satin-covered crotch. The blonde then clamps her thighs around Armstrong’s head and locks her ankles. The crushing pain shocks Ivy from her stupor, and she begins to thrash wildly. Luckily for her, Mariska was unable to grab her wrists to immobilize her arms, which would have left the American utterly helpless.
Still, as the ballerina’s milky-white thighs pulsed around her skull, and as her breath was cut off as her mouth and nose were pressed up against her adversary’s groin, Ivy knew she was less than a minute away from being knocked out. Thus, she had to work swiftly if she had any hope of escape.
Getting her knees up under herself, and pushing up with her arms, she astonished everyone…most of all Mariska…by slowly but steadily managing to get to one knee, then pushing up and actually standing. All the while, the Russian kept her finisher locked on, so Armstrong was lifting the full weight of her opponent up off of the canvas with her. Finally upright, Ivy began to spin around, subjecting Barinova to a crude Tilt-A-Whirl, until finally the centrifugal force caused the blonde’s legs to snap open and she went sailing through the air, landing with a thud on the mat.
Somewhat stunned by this unexpected turn of events, Mariska sat up…and was met with a dropkick to the face that splayed her upon the canvas again, icy blue eyes now glassy and staring at the arena ceiling with a particular lack of perception.
On all fours, Armstrong grunts as she rolls the Russian over onto her belly. And now it is her turn to apply her identical finisher, the much more legendary Southern Charm. And as she’s canny enough to make certain she has a tight grasp on both of her rival’s wrists, the blonde has little hope of executing her own flabbergasting escape.
Ivy feels the short, hot breaths of her foe through the thin fabric of her panties, and sees the lights accentuate the musculature of her fabled legs as she pours every last bit of remaining strength into them. Mariska’s legs wriggle and her body squirms, but no serious attempts at powering out are made. She simply has nothing left in the tank.
Kneeling down as Barinova’s movements grow sluggish, until they cease altogether, the referee says, “Give me her arm Ivy, so I can check and see if she’s still awake.”
“Nothin’ doin’”, the Bama Slamma murmurs. “Ah’m not letting any bit of her go until you ring that bell!” Thus, the official has to improvise, and in an act that seems altogether fitting for this battle of stems, he lifts Barinova’s right leg once, twice, thrice…and all three times it thumps limply back to the canvas.
Satisfied, the ref signals for the bell, and the crowd erupts with a deafening roar. Releasing her hold, Armstrong tries to rise, but her legs…already asked of so much this night…simply crumple under her. She rolls under the ropes, and throws her arms around the shoulders of two ringside attendants, who slowly help her up the aisle. Not the most noble of exits, but certainly better than that of her beaten rival, who is carried from the ring on a stretcher.
*****
"Well, that's it for tonight, ladies and gentlemen," says Joanna. "It's been a great night of action, and we look forward to having you join us each and every week for more exciting SATURDAY NIGHT END GAMES!"
