Post by hawkeye on Apr 11, 2023 1:48:07 GMT
The night had gotten off to an exciting start already, but this early in the evening, one thing was certain: there would still be PLENTY of surprises in store for the FAWNatics tonight.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer declares, “your next contest is scheduled for one fall, with a 20 minute time limit. Introducing first…”
As his voice trails off, for a moment the only sound is the excited murmur of the crowd, eager to see what might be next on the card. With plenty of anticipated matchups yet to come, whatever the answer might be would no doubt receive a positive response. But when the silence is broken by the rolling bass of Michelle Branch’s “Best You Ever”, the house responds with excited—albeit VERY much surprised—cheers.
”BEST YOU EVER”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lN_Lxfeed9A
The announcer once again raises his mic. “Hailing from Reading, Berkshire in the United Kingdom… She stands five feet five inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-three pounds. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back to FAWN… HOOONNNEEEYYY HAAARRRRRRIIISSS!!!!!”
HONEY HARRIS:
Honey grabs the edges of the curtain on both sides and BURSTS through onto the stage, making her return to the FAWN Arena for the first time in over three and a half years. The young, blonde British spitfire skips to a halt on one foot, her left knee raised as she pumps her right fist to the crowd. “C’MON, LET’S GO!!!!!” Harris bellows, a bright smile gracing her youthful features—and the FAWNatics happily oblige, rising and roaring in support of the youthful Brit. A couple of smartarses attempt to get an ironic “HO-LY POOP!” chant going, remembering full well Honey’s nearly pathological aversion to profanity. But while the intent on their part might have been ironic, the majority of the crowd picks it up with sincerity, leaving the Sweet Sensation little choice but to chuckle at the absurdity.
Honey brings a hand to her chest, tapping her heart before making her way toward the ring at a brisk pace. But of course, she doesn’t go SO fast that she bypasses slapping any offered hand or occasionally pausing for an embrace. The closer she gets to the ring, the louder it seems that the crowd cheers, as they gain more of an opportunity to take her in. The youngster’s well-shaped legs are bared, a hint of gold bikini style bottoms (with black trim) just visible beneath the hem a gold tee. Upon the front read the words “SWEET AS” in black type, directly above an illustration of a pot of honey. On the back, below the words “BUT WITH A” is a cartoon bee abdomen—complete with stinger.
Harris practically skips up the ring steps, that smile never leaving her features as she wipes her boots on the skirt of the apron. Honey slips through the ropes and mounts the second rope, tapping her fist to her heart twice more before blowing a kiss to the full house. Maintaining her perch, the blonde’s hands move to the hem of her shirt, which she peels overhead to reveal a bikini top with matches her black trimmed gold shorts. Balling the garment in her right hand, the Brit cocks her arm and scans the crowd—a gesture which brings a few FAWNatics hands rising in anticipation. Choosing a lucky fan, Harris sends the shirt flying into the crowd.
As Honey hops back to the canvas, referee Craig Long casually strolls over to her, giving the blonde a small pat on the back. “Welcome back, kid,” he tells her, as the announcer steps forward to continue the introductions…
… only before he can speak, another voice comes over the sound system. A decidedly more feminine voice. A voice belonging to another lady who hadn’t been seen much recently, though more recently than the prodigal Briton. And unlike Honey’s recent arrival status, this voice belongs to someone who’s been a part of FAWN pretty much since Day One…
CHRISSY DANIEL:
“Yeah yeah yeah,” the Killer Imp purrs, her voice dripping with derision and disdain. “Let’s all give a warm welcome back to the second most pathetic English Muffin Top to ever grace a FAWN ring.” Daniel sets her mic in the crook of her elbow, just long enough to lead a round of… well, mocking applause on her part. But the FAWNatics are much more gracious.
Honey, meanwhile, looks down quizzically at her belly, patting it with both hands before looking back up to Craig Long. Who, for his part, simply gives a shrug. “I… I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
Harris turns her attention back up the ramp. Sure enough, the Imp is dressed for battle, clad in a shiny leather two piece that straddles the line between black and silver, with black pads and boots completing the ensemble. Raising the stick again, Daniel continues. “Miss Honey Harris, I have simply two words for you: …”
Chrissy lets her voice trailing off, leaving both the woman in the ring and the men and women in the stands to ponder just what those words might be. And it’s almost a certainty that they turn out to be NOT what anyone expected to hear. Least of all Honey.
“You’re welcome.”
Honey frowns in confusion, the FAWNatics mumbling in a similar state.
“I mean,” Chrissy explains, “ did you think FAWN called you out of the blue, out of the kindness of their heart? Oh, no no no… You’re here because I put in a call to my good friend, Anci…”
By this staff, Honey has taken the announcer’s mic for herself. “So you’re saying you pulled some strings to bring me back? Why? Desperate to recapture your youth and reclaim some relevancy after Kat kicked you to the curb?”
“Puh-leaze, putz,” Daniel sneers. “I’d destroy you before I broke a sweat. But I’m glad you mentioned the Brat, because I did learn something from her…”
“How to count to five?” Harris asks with a grin.
The FAWNatics utter a collective gasp, but Chrissy just flashes the blonde Brit a smirk of her own. “I learned who I can count on. I learned the importance of family…”
Family?
Missy???
“See, a few weeks back, I got a phone call. From my darling niece…”
And suddenly, the FAWNatics are buzzing in shock. Missy had a kid??? When??? Where??? Ho… well, no one really has any doubts about THAT part.
“And she tells me she’s just signed to FAWN,” the Imp carries on, once the startled buzz of the crowd starts to die down. “So we got to talking about who she should debut against. And really, there was only one choice. I mean, we could’ve gone with the runt. But let’s be honest, we all know SHE’S never gonna measure up to Auntie. And besides…”
Chrissy pauses again. Just for a moment.
“SHE at least had the decency to TRY to forge her own identity.”
The FAWNatics gasp again. But Honey brushes off the jab. “Sticks and stones, Chrissy,” the blonde says. “You can talk your girl up all you want, but if you think you can scare me, or intimidate me, you’re wrong. If you thought they were gonna bring me in to be a welcome mat for you and your niece, you just made a big mistake. Because I came back here cause I have unfinished business. And I’m about to make some noise… ironically enough, by shutting you up, and shutting your niece down. So come on. Bring her out. Let’s go.”
“Your funeral,” Chrissy grins maliciously, taking a step back and pivoting toward the entrance, sweeping an arm back… and dropping the mic as she does. The thump of the stick hitting the ground mingles with a pulse of percussion, that then gives way to a Bulgarian chorus…
”PARASITE EVE”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=racmy7Y9P4M
As the frantic opening fanfare of “Parasite Eve” yields to a more ominous mixture of a throbbing bass and a periodic electronic beat. Then a curvaceous young blonde, about three inches taller than her aunt and possessing a rack every bit worthy of the Daniel name, pushes through the curtains. She is dressed in a fuchsia fightin’ two piece, the bottoms secured by a wide white belt with a star shaped buckle. A large white star adorns the seat of the bottoms, with the name ‘DANIEL’ inscribed within. A smaller white star graces each of the top’s cups, which does yeoman work supporting and accentuating the blonde’s bounty. She wears black boots, though they too continue the star motif, with a shower of tiny stars curving above and around the outer ankle of each boot. Her wrist tape and elbow pads are also fuchsia, while her knee pads are white.
STARLA “SISSY” DANIEL
Chrissy’s niece saunters over to her, the Imp rising up to give her niece a hearty hug. With the mic resting on the ground, the elder Daniel’s words are for her niece to hear alone. “Make a statement, Sissy,” she tells her.
Sissy rolls her eyes and groans. “Pleeease don’t call me that…”
As Sissy pulls away, the Imp gives her niece a supportive swat on the tush before heading backstage. The younger Daniel heads toward the aisle, and as she does, a cold, feminine voice observes the following…
“Please remain calm,
The end has arrived,
We cannot save you,
Enjoy the ride,
This is the moment
You’ve been waiting for,
Don’t call it a warning,
This is a war”
All the while, this blonde bombshell remains poised on the stage, her eyes sparkling with malevolence as she regards the ring before her, and everyone in it.
At last, she begins to saunter down the aisle, the ire of the crowd seeming to grow the closer she gets to the ring. She comes to a halt, however, when confronted by one particular fan—a young man of about 20, sporting a “Sensational” Shea London t-shirt. The curvy blonde rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t pretend you’re not gonna be cheering your ass off when I’m jugging this bytch out five minutes from now,” she remarks.
She makes her way up the stairs, casually moving toward the middle of the apron. At which point, she suddenly spins her back to the ropes, extending both arms wide and clutching the top rope with each hand, her feet shifting into a broadened stance. The blonde throws her head back, casting her eyes up toward the rafters. In a sense, her body almost takes on the form of one of those stars adorning her gear. After a moment, she shuffles her feet back together, and her legs then propel her into a flip over the top rope.
And that display of athleticism earns her a grudging round of support as the announcer—his microphone reclaimed from Honey steps forward. “And introducing, hailing from Manhattan Beach, California… weighing in at one hundred and thirty-one pounds…”
Smirking, the voluptuous blonde steps toward the center of the ring.
“She is the Next Generation of Carnal Carnage… the Shooting Star of Seduction… She is SIIISSSSSSUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH…”
Without warning, Daniel turns toward the announcer, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him forward. While her right knee shoots up, SLAMMING between his legs. As those legs buckle, the blonde snatches the mic away from him, turning away to let him crumple to his knees.
“The name,” she says, “is STARLA Daniel. LEARN it. LOVE it. NEVER forget it!”
Daniel ‘THWAP’s the mic into the groaning announcer’s chest, leaving him little choice but to take it as he tumbles and rolls under the bottom rope. At that point, Craig Long calls for the bell, and both blonde’s commence to circling the ring. As they do, a solitary voice in the crowd emerges over the din of wordless cheers and applause. That one voice is quickly followed by more and more, until finally an arena full of FAWNatics are chanting just one thing…
“SIS-SY! SIS-SY! SIS-SY!”
Starla’s hands fly to her head, her palms pressing against her ears for a moment, before her fingers slide into her hair, the potential nepo baby fuming more and more by the second as the chant grows ever louder. For her part, Honey doesn’t join in, but she does encourage the FAWNatics to keep turning up the volume with a wave of her hand toward the ceiling. “SHUT UP!!!” Starla shouts. Her eyes screwing shut for an instant. When the audience fails to honor that request, she hisses, “SHUT YOUR F*CKING MOUTHS, OR IT’S THIS BYTCH WHO’S GONNA PAY FOR IT!!!”
A bemused Honey can’t help but grin. “Guess you’re just gonna have to shut ‘em up, aren’t you?” she teases, her body tensing as the two blonde’s draw closer.
“We’ll see if you’re still smiling when they’ve stopped their chanting and started cheering your motorboating me,” Starla counters.
Deciding the time for words had passed, Honey doesn’t bother answering. Instead, she lunges forward, Starla answering in kid, British and American blonde surging into a collar and elbow tie up. After a few moments jockeying for control, it’s Honey who emerges with the advantage—and with Starla’s head wedged against Honey’s side, secured in a tight side headlock. The crowd cheers, but their joy proves transient as Daniel worms her way out. But while escaping the headlock, the Shooting Star of Seduction keeps possession of Harris’ arm, cranking it up behind her back in a hammerlock. Daniel leans in, pointedly letting her gurls push into Honey’s back as she whispers, “You’re gonna wish you’d stayed in Jolly Old Ehhhhrrruuuuuhhhhh…”
The Sweet Sensation dips, managing to reverse Starla’s hammerlock into one of her own. And now it’s the Brit’s turn to nuzzle into her foe’s back. “YOU’RE gonna be the one wishing I didn’t come back,” Harris mutters. “You can have a nice long talk with your aunt about the checks her mouth writes for nauuuuuuuggghhhhhhhh…”
Daniel works her way out of the hammerlock, and now it’s HER turn to reach up and wrap an arm around Honey’s neck, drawing the Brit into a snug side headlock of her own. Keeping her foe’s face smushed against her side (not to mention her side boob), Starla purrs, “Just an appetizer. You’re gonna know ‘em like the back of your hand before the night’s over.”
“Weee… uhhhllll… see… about THAT…” Honey pants, punctuating the fine word by pushing her way out of the headlock and shooting Starla into the ropes. Immediately, the Sweet Sensation drops to the canvas, forcing Daniel to jump over her as the voluptuous American blonde hurtles back toward her opponent. Honey scrambles back to her feet, wheeling around just as Starla shoots toward her again, this time lowering her shoulder. It would have been more of a traditional tackle than a spear, had it connected. But Harris shows off her hops with a leapfrog. Feeling the breeze against her back as she whiffs on the tackle, Starla decides that’s wiser to hit the brakes than to shoot back off the ropes. But while one blonde gathers her momentum, the other channels hers, Honey diving into a forward role the instant her boots touch down against the mat. Springing back to her feet, the Sweet Sensational swivels to face a turning Starla, the curvier blonde not quite having re-acquired a lock on her prey. Harris takes advantage, launching into an abbreviated tumbling run—one which ends with her back to Daniel’s face. Vaulting backwards from that position, Harris lands astride her opponent’s shoulders. Clamping her thighs tight against the American’s noggin, Honey throws her weight backwards, RIPPING Daniel from her moorings and SPIKING the curvaceous blonde’s skull with a handspring reverse rana.
HANDSPRING REVERSE RANA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eiqaYVTnZoM
There is not the single slightest trace of irony that accompanies the “HO-LY POOP!” chant the FAWNatics give that impressive display, while the Shooting Star of Seduction comes falling to Earth, left in a shuddering heap flat on her back. Wasting no time, Honey applies the lateral press, hooking a leg and scoring the…
ONE…
TWO…
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Starla kicks out.
The crowd groans, but even with as impressive an impact as it had appeared, no one really expected that to be the finish. And fortunately, that no one includes Honey herself, because she doesn’t protest the near fall. Instead, she rises, hauling Daniel up with her. Taking her foe’s wrist, the Sweet Sensation starts to send the American blonde off with an Irish whip, only for Starla to dig in her heels and reverse it. But Harris isn’t quite ready to cede control of the contest yet. Leaping onto the middle rope, she springboards back toward her adversary, twisting her frame in flight, her chest connecting with Starla’s in a crossbody…
One of the hallmarks of Chrissy Daniel as a fighter had always been the incredible, deceptive strength and power she possessed in her barely over five foot frame. Starla’s being a little taller might have made it less surprising, but it’s not particularly less impressive when she only takes a half stumbling step back before gathering her balance, one arm wrapped up and under Honey’s back, the other threaded her legs. But the truly impressive comes when Daniel stuffs one hand into the Brit’s bosom, the other into her crotch, and THRUSTS the squirming blonde up and overhead with a military press.
Clearly, that trademark Daniel strength had not skipped a generation.
Suspended high in the air and helpless, Honey can only kick her legs, hoping against hope that she can somehow knock her opponent off balance and let her drop harmlessly to her feet. Unfortunately for the Brit, however, Starla gives up her footing voluntarily, dropping to one knee—and viciously depositing the Sweet Sensation across her posted knee, belly first. “UNNNNNGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH,” an impaled Honey moans, the collision of her yielding abs with Daniel’s knee sending her spilling to the mat, where she rolls over to her back, her right arm falling across her gulping tummy.
MILITARY PRESS GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=drt4IU0AZM8
Rising from her knee, Starla hairhauls a breathless, woozy Honey to her feet and starts to send her toward the knee ropes with an Irish whip. There’s no reversal from the British blonde… but there’s also no release from Daniel, and just as Harris’ back hits the ropes, the Shooting Star of Seduction yanks back on Honey’s arm, pulling the more experienced blonde into a swift and brutal kneelift to the pit of Honey’s already traumatized stomach. The Sweet Sensation doubles over, her legs buckling, but before she can collapse, Starla uses that continued grip on the Brit’s wrist to send her racing off with another Irish whip. This time she lets go, confident in the knowledge that her opponent doesn’t have the wind to summon a counter. Sure enough, the ropes shoot Honey back toward her, and Daniel drives ANOTHER ruthless kneelift into the pit of Honey’s belly, sending her flipping over the American blonde’s knee and crashing to the canvas.
Nudging the breathless Brit over with her boot, the Shooting Star of Seduction steps between Honey’s thighs, pushing the blonde’s left boot into the pit of her right knee before folding that gam and hooking Harris’ right boot around Daniel’s calf. With her victim’s legs securely trussed up, Starla spares a moment to slip a finger into each leghole and adjust her trunks before raising her other foot and pressing it down against the Sweet Sensation’s neck. With her legs knotted and Starla’s nearly full weight pinning her upper body to the mat, Harris can do little more than groan, her left arm reaching and sweeping for the bottom rope… which remains several frustrating feet out of her reach. A sympathetic Craig Long drops to one knee beside the pair. “You wanna give, Honey?”
Denied the ability to shake her head, Harris mutters, “Aggghhhhh…. Nuuuhhhoooooooo…”
“Who gives a sh*t what this bytch wants?” Starla snarls. “If she’s too stupid to know when she’s beat…” Smirking, Daniel adds a little insult to injury, placing her hands on her thighs and proceeding to do a few squats, Honey groaning in anguish with each descent of the curvier blonde…
… but she doesn’t give.
Fortunately for Honey, Starla soon grows bored of this particular form of torture. Stepping off the Brit’s neck, the Shooting Star of Seduction pulls Honey up, but only long enough to put her flat on her ass with a snapmare. Taking a small step back, Daniel then UNLOADS with a soccer kick to Harris’ back. The Sweet Sensation draws her closed fists up to her chest, Honey throwing her head back as she lets out a howl of pain. Tensing her shoulders, Harris climbs up to her knees, but that proves to be a mistake. Coming up behind her adversary, Daniel grabs the Brit’s arms and pulls back. Planting a foot against the back of Honey’s neck, Starla stomps down—sending the Sweet Sensation’s face SMASHING into the bottom turnbuckle!
TURNBUCKLE CURBSTOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCAyYx0Bssc
Harris’ body instantly loses all tension, her left arm spilling through the ropes as she’s left lying with her cheek resting on the leather padding of the bottom buckle. There was a greater than zero chance that Daniel might be able to score a three count, if she just pulled the Brit out of the corner and covered her. But she’s not finished. Snatching a handful of Honey’s flaxen lock, Starla pulls her up, turning the more experienced blonde’s back to the buckles before nudging Honey’s arms over the top rope. Bending down, Chrissy’s niece takes Honey’s right ankle and threads that leg over the middle rope before doing the same with the left, leaving Harris’ gams helplessly splayed open… only that turns out not to be Starla’s first target. No, first the voluptuous blonde spends a few seconds punishing Honey’s more modest gurls, treating the Brit’s boobs like speed bags.
THEN she takes a step back, and unleashes a SAVAGE sweeping kick to Honey’s nether regions. The Sweet Sensation’s eyes shoot crossed as her upper body pitches forward. Harris’ left leg extricates itself before her right does, and the British blonde melts into a mewling seat against the buckles. Moving to Honey’s feet, Starla grabs her foe’s ankles and drags her out of the corner, Daniel stuffs Harris’ boots under her arms before stepping over her back, in the process rolling Honey over to her belly. The Shooting Star of Seduction then sinks into a deep crouch, seemingly ready to apply a Boston Crab. But instead of settling in, Starla reaches down, her hands seeking out and finding the Brit’s wrists. Once she possesses them, Daniel rises up, hoisting Honey off the mat and into a Reverse Pendulum Swing, the curvier blonde adding a sassy swish of her hips as she swings the Sweet Sensation to and fro.
REVERSE PENDULUM SWING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=acZlAARxvyM
“What do you say, Honey?” Craig asks. Only before the British blonde can even offer an answer, Starla lets her go, Harris landing in a sprawled heap between Daniel’s feet. Hairhauling Honey up onto rubbery legs, the Shooting Star of Seduction takes her wrist and lines her up with the far corner, sending Harris off with an Irish whip. Daniel promptly charges in behind her, but Honey’s legs soon prove deceptively resilient, the Sweet Sensation springing onto the middle rope. Launching herself back at Starla, Harris’ butt strikes the American’s ample chest, Daniel’s arms instinctively snaking around Honey’s waist to catch her. As gravity pulls the British blonde downward, her hands drop to the canvas, Harris pushing herself up—just far enough to whip her body through Starla’s parted stems, her momentum pulling Daniel off her feet and sending the Shooting Star of Seduction SLAMMING face first into the middle turnbuckle via Honey’s trademark Honeycomb Facebuster.
HONEYCOMB FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYdS-j2LZXA
This sudden turn of the tide brings the FAWNatics to their feet, and Honey feeds off the energy of those cheers, their vocal support soothing every ache and pain in her body as the adrenaline starts to course through her voice. Scrambling to her feet, Harris races to the opposite corner. Leaping into the corner, the Sweet Sensation’s right food lands on the middle buckle as her right hand swoops down to slap the top, while Starla slumps to a reclining position against the opposite buckles. Launching herself back toward the splattered, buxom blonde, Honey throws herself into the air, her legs swooping up toward the rafters, until the Brit’s taut backside SLAMS into Daniel’s mug, Chrissy’s niece learning all about Honey’s Sting in Its Tail.
STING IN ITS TAIL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEnEnOzqsAY
Harris rolls away from the impact, the Brit’s momentum actually enough to propel her back to her feet for an instant, until she stumbles and drops back to her knees. Luckily, she’s able to regain her footing again before Daniel can recover. Grabbing the American’s ankles, Honey pulls her out of the corner, the circles around to the voluptuous blonde’s head. Reaching under Starla’s arms, the Sweet Sensation lifts her to a seated position before placing the crown of her skull against the left crook of Daniel’s neck. Underhooking the American’s arms, Honey’s flips forward, over her foe, forcing Starla’s upper body to fold down between her parted legs, Harris maintaining the bridge as she cranks on Daniel’s arms. While Honey keeps working the Cattle Mutilation, much to the FAWNatics’ delight, it’s now Starla who finds herself being asked by Craig Long whether she wants to call it a night.
“NO!” Daniel snaps. “NO FUGGHIINN’ WAAAYYYYAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”
Harris keeps working the hold for as long as she’s able, but eventually the strain of holding the bridge becomes too much. Reluctantly, she releases the hold, rolling away as Starla crawls over toward the ropes. Both blondes struggle to their feet, Honey making it just a little quicker than her adversary, Daniel using the ropes to pull herself up. As the curvaceous blonde turns away from the cables, the Sweet Sensation charges her, leaping and landing with her boots atop Daniel’s thighs. As Starla’s arms wrap around behind the Brit’s knees, Honey throws her weight toward the ropes, forcing the Shooting Star of Seduction to turn back toward the cables. Harris drops back, until her back hits the top rope and is launched into reverse. Honey’s hands move to the back of Daniel’s head as she continues to ascend, pushing the American’s noggin between her thighs as she flips over her, the FAWNatics losing their collective poop when the Sweet Sensation connects with an emphatic Reading Destroyer!
READING DESTROYER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6IkGmxvfbN8
Starla tumbles over to her knees, remaining slumped there, practically senseless until Honey pushes her over to her back. The Sweet Sensation drops to a seat atop Daniel’s chest, facing her feet, reaching to gather up and hook both legs as Craig Long slides into position. And the crowd is ready to blow the roof off the joint when Harris puts the finishing touches on this nepo baby’s debut.
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Starla throws her left fist into the air, raising her shoulder off the mat and breaking the count.
Incredulous, Honey slumps backward, burying her face in her hands in disbelief as the small of her back rests against Daniel’s right shoulder. Say what you will about this naughty Dottie, Honey had to hand it to her: she’s resilient.
Willing herself back to her feet, and willing down the disappointment of having been denied victory, the Sweet Sensation pulls her foe up to her feet, and attempts to send her off with an Irish whip. But Starla shows even greater resilience, digging in her heels and reversing it—even as her legs continue to look a little rubbery. Even as she shoots back toward the curvaceous blonde, Harris still feels in control. She leaps at her opponent, swiveling to face away from her opponent, the Sweet Sensation’s legs slipping around Starla’s waist as her upper body plummets toward the mat.
There are few in the business more adept at using the wheelbarrow than Honey Harris, but this time, Daniel is ready. The British blonde pushes off the canvas, but before she can whip her body around to face Starla execute her intended DDT, the curvaceous blonde’s arms snake underneath Honey’s. And where Daniel’s fingers lace together behind the Brit’s head, the Shooting Star of Seduction transforms the Sweet Sensation’s wheelbarrow into an elevated full nelson. Honey can only shake her head, before Daniel hops up and opens her legs wide, SLAMMING Harris down between them with an emphatic sitout facebuster than knocks the British blonde damn near into next week.
SIT OUT FULL NELSON FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZ_bfo9ztYg
Chrissy’s niece shoves the splattered Brit clear from between her legs, rolling Honey over to her back. But she foregoes the cover. Instead, she snatches a handful of the Brit’s blonde locks as she climbs to her feet, pulling the Sweet Sensation up with her just far enough to roughly shove Harris’ head between her thighs when she clamps on a standing headscissors. Bending forward, Daniel slips her arms under Honey’s waist, and then the Shooting Star of Seduction swings the more experience blonde up onto her right shoulder, strapping Honey into a Canadian backbreaker.
Starla makes sure to bounce on her heels. And no doubt many of the FAWNatics would have appreciated the resulting jiggle of Starla’s jugs, if they weren’t preoccupied with the anguished wails from Honey as her spine is punished by Daniel’s shoulder. But before Craig can even start to ask if the Brit wants to surrender, Chrissy’s niece is in motion, charging toward the near corner with her cargo. Closing in, Daniel swings Harris forward and down, as if executing a Dominator—only instead of slamming Honey face and chest first to the canvas, the Shooting Star of Seduction deposits her rival belly first across the top turnbuckle.
“NNNYYYYYUUUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” Harris moans, the impact enough to knock the wind out of her, leaving her hanging awkwardly when her head and arms slumping toward the mat and her legs kicking absently at the air outside the ring. Climbing onto the middle rope in front of her, Starla pushes Honey back, until the Sweet Sensation is left on an awkward perch, with her crotch resting on the thin metal station connecting the buckle to the ringpost. Pushing the Brit’s head under her left arm, Daniel underhooks Honey’s wings, pops her hips, and sends her CRASHING to the mat via the American’s Falling Star Suplex.
FALLING STAR SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Orz-JWT9QEI
And still, she doesn’t cover.
Climbing to her feet, Chrissy’s niece pulls Honey up once more, and once again guides her into a standing headscissor. Only this time, she reaches under the Brit’s torso, gathering up the Sweet Sensation’s all but limp arms. Crossing Honey’s arms, holding both wrists in one hand, she then reaches through from above to claim Harris’ right hand with her right, followed by the left hand with her left. Starla then swings her foe upward, as if preparing for a powerbomb—only thanks to the positioning of her arms holding Honey’s hands, the Brit’s legs sweep down her shoulders, Daniel settling into a wide crouch to allow Harris’ thighs to land atop hers, holding Honey facing her for a moment. Finally releasing the Brit’s hands, the Shooting Star of Seduction locks her left arm around her opponent’s neck, while Honey’s newly freed arms spill absently toward her own thighs, wrapping around Daniel’s back in a loose embrace. Starla then takes a couple of steps toward the center of the ring, making sure the Sweet Sensation is nowhere near the ropes when she drops back, putting a decisive bow on her debut by DRILLING the crown of Honey’s skull into the canvas.
BORN TO BE A STARLA:
youtu.be/SIrJ_t3xm-o?t=233
Honey flops over onto her back, weakly twitching but otherwise motionless. And finally, Starla goes for the cover, bypassing hooking the leg… but plunging a hand into the Brit’s damp locks.
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?
??
Daniel sits up, pulling an insensate Honey Harris up with her, breaking the count. “… the hell, Starla???” Craig protests.
But the voluptuous blonde ignores him. Casually, she tosses Harris aside, leaving the Sweet Sensation to spill over onto her tummy. Getting to her feet, she folds Honey’s legs at the knees before stepping up onto her thighs. Hooking the British blonde’s boots over her calves, Starla leans forward, claiming her foes arms before rocking back, dropping to a seat on the mat. But instead of hoisted Honey aloft for the full Romero, Daniel keeps the British blonde on her knees, pulling back on her foe’s arms until Harris’ upper body is practically parallel to the ceiling. The strain on Honey’s knees is immediate and excruciating, jolting her back to a state of semiconsciousness…
… but it’s also soon the LEAST of Honey’s worries.
Starla laces her arms underneath Honey’s as she leans forward… an act with guides the Brit’s upside-down face directly into Starla’s cavernous cleavage!
DANIEL DREAMMAKER, inspired by:
youtu.be/zBX4N6U0css?t=214
The diabolical genius of Starla’s cruelty quickly becomes clear—at least to the FAWNatics, if not to the barely conscious Honey. The complete restriction of her mobility, coupled with the strain being placed on her knees… not to mention the strain on her neck, her head being forced back at such an unnatural angle… and that’s before getting into the disorienting effects of not only Starla’s ample jugs depriving the Brit of her vision, but the blood rushing to her brain coupled with the oxygen starvation…
It’s completely overwhelming.
Honey’s arms spasm back to life, but only for a moment, her movements all but completely involuntary. And the cease almost as soon as they begin. Craig Long doesn’t even bother checking arm, partly because he’s certain that the Sweet Sensation is alright out, but also because he doesn’t trust Daniel to have another trick or two up her sleeve. Mercifully, he calls for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
From the timekeeper’s table, the announcer declares, “Ladies and gentlemen, your wInner… by knockout… SIII…”
With the Dreammaker still locked in tight, Starla turns her head to glare in his direction.
“STTTAAARRRLLLAAA DAAANNNIIIEELLL!!!!!” the suitably chastised announcer concludes.
Just as Craig starts to order the Shooting Star of Seduction to release the hold, she complies, climbing to her knees and letting the greasy faced Honey slump against her. Reaching around, Starla takes the Brit’s right hand, curling the fingers into a fist, but pushing the thumb up and out. That thumb she raises toward Honey’s chin, the overhead lights glistening off a line of drool trailing down toward her jaw.
And Starla pushes that thumb past Honey’s slightly parted lips.
“Who’s the sissy now, bytch?”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer declares, “your next contest is scheduled for one fall, with a 20 minute time limit. Introducing first…”
As his voice trails off, for a moment the only sound is the excited murmur of the crowd, eager to see what might be next on the card. With plenty of anticipated matchups yet to come, whatever the answer might be would no doubt receive a positive response. But when the silence is broken by the rolling bass of Michelle Branch’s “Best You Ever”, the house responds with excited—albeit VERY much surprised—cheers.
”BEST YOU EVER”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lN_Lxfeed9A
The announcer once again raises his mic. “Hailing from Reading, Berkshire in the United Kingdom… She stands five feet five inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-three pounds. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back to FAWN… HOOONNNEEEYYY HAAARRRRRRIIISSS!!!!!”
HONEY HARRIS:
Honey grabs the edges of the curtain on both sides and BURSTS through onto the stage, making her return to the FAWN Arena for the first time in over three and a half years. The young, blonde British spitfire skips to a halt on one foot, her left knee raised as she pumps her right fist to the crowd. “C’MON, LET’S GO!!!!!” Harris bellows, a bright smile gracing her youthful features—and the FAWNatics happily oblige, rising and roaring in support of the youthful Brit. A couple of smartarses attempt to get an ironic “HO-LY POOP!” chant going, remembering full well Honey’s nearly pathological aversion to profanity. But while the intent on their part might have been ironic, the majority of the crowd picks it up with sincerity, leaving the Sweet Sensation little choice but to chuckle at the absurdity.
Honey brings a hand to her chest, tapping her heart before making her way toward the ring at a brisk pace. But of course, she doesn’t go SO fast that she bypasses slapping any offered hand or occasionally pausing for an embrace. The closer she gets to the ring, the louder it seems that the crowd cheers, as they gain more of an opportunity to take her in. The youngster’s well-shaped legs are bared, a hint of gold bikini style bottoms (with black trim) just visible beneath the hem a gold tee. Upon the front read the words “SWEET AS” in black type, directly above an illustration of a pot of honey. On the back, below the words “BUT WITH A” is a cartoon bee abdomen—complete with stinger.
Harris practically skips up the ring steps, that smile never leaving her features as she wipes her boots on the skirt of the apron. Honey slips through the ropes and mounts the second rope, tapping her fist to her heart twice more before blowing a kiss to the full house. Maintaining her perch, the blonde’s hands move to the hem of her shirt, which she peels overhead to reveal a bikini top with matches her black trimmed gold shorts. Balling the garment in her right hand, the Brit cocks her arm and scans the crowd—a gesture which brings a few FAWNatics hands rising in anticipation. Choosing a lucky fan, Harris sends the shirt flying into the crowd.
As Honey hops back to the canvas, referee Craig Long casually strolls over to her, giving the blonde a small pat on the back. “Welcome back, kid,” he tells her, as the announcer steps forward to continue the introductions…
… only before he can speak, another voice comes over the sound system. A decidedly more feminine voice. A voice belonging to another lady who hadn’t been seen much recently, though more recently than the prodigal Briton. And unlike Honey’s recent arrival status, this voice belongs to someone who’s been a part of FAWN pretty much since Day One…
CHRISSY DANIEL:
“Yeah yeah yeah,” the Killer Imp purrs, her voice dripping with derision and disdain. “Let’s all give a warm welcome back to the second most pathetic English Muffin Top to ever grace a FAWN ring.” Daniel sets her mic in the crook of her elbow, just long enough to lead a round of… well, mocking applause on her part. But the FAWNatics are much more gracious.
Honey, meanwhile, looks down quizzically at her belly, patting it with both hands before looking back up to Craig Long. Who, for his part, simply gives a shrug. “I… I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
Harris turns her attention back up the ramp. Sure enough, the Imp is dressed for battle, clad in a shiny leather two piece that straddles the line between black and silver, with black pads and boots completing the ensemble. Raising the stick again, Daniel continues. “Miss Honey Harris, I have simply two words for you: …”
Chrissy lets her voice trailing off, leaving both the woman in the ring and the men and women in the stands to ponder just what those words might be. And it’s almost a certainty that they turn out to be NOT what anyone expected to hear. Least of all Honey.
“You’re welcome.”
Honey frowns in confusion, the FAWNatics mumbling in a similar state.
“I mean,” Chrissy explains, “ did you think FAWN called you out of the blue, out of the kindness of their heart? Oh, no no no… You’re here because I put in a call to my good friend, Anci…”
By this staff, Honey has taken the announcer’s mic for herself. “So you’re saying you pulled some strings to bring me back? Why? Desperate to recapture your youth and reclaim some relevancy after Kat kicked you to the curb?”
“Puh-leaze, putz,” Daniel sneers. “I’d destroy you before I broke a sweat. But I’m glad you mentioned the Brat, because I did learn something from her…”
“How to count to five?” Harris asks with a grin.
The FAWNatics utter a collective gasp, but Chrissy just flashes the blonde Brit a smirk of her own. “I learned who I can count on. I learned the importance of family…”
Family?
Missy???
“See, a few weeks back, I got a phone call. From my darling niece…”
And suddenly, the FAWNatics are buzzing in shock. Missy had a kid??? When??? Where??? Ho… well, no one really has any doubts about THAT part.
“And she tells me she’s just signed to FAWN,” the Imp carries on, once the startled buzz of the crowd starts to die down. “So we got to talking about who she should debut against. And really, there was only one choice. I mean, we could’ve gone with the runt. But let’s be honest, we all know SHE’S never gonna measure up to Auntie. And besides…”
Chrissy pauses again. Just for a moment.
“SHE at least had the decency to TRY to forge her own identity.”
The FAWNatics gasp again. But Honey brushes off the jab. “Sticks and stones, Chrissy,” the blonde says. “You can talk your girl up all you want, but if you think you can scare me, or intimidate me, you’re wrong. If you thought they were gonna bring me in to be a welcome mat for you and your niece, you just made a big mistake. Because I came back here cause I have unfinished business. And I’m about to make some noise… ironically enough, by shutting you up, and shutting your niece down. So come on. Bring her out. Let’s go.”
“Your funeral,” Chrissy grins maliciously, taking a step back and pivoting toward the entrance, sweeping an arm back… and dropping the mic as she does. The thump of the stick hitting the ground mingles with a pulse of percussion, that then gives way to a Bulgarian chorus…
”PARASITE EVE”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=racmy7Y9P4M
As the frantic opening fanfare of “Parasite Eve” yields to a more ominous mixture of a throbbing bass and a periodic electronic beat. Then a curvaceous young blonde, about three inches taller than her aunt and possessing a rack every bit worthy of the Daniel name, pushes through the curtains. She is dressed in a fuchsia fightin’ two piece, the bottoms secured by a wide white belt with a star shaped buckle. A large white star adorns the seat of the bottoms, with the name ‘DANIEL’ inscribed within. A smaller white star graces each of the top’s cups, which does yeoman work supporting and accentuating the blonde’s bounty. She wears black boots, though they too continue the star motif, with a shower of tiny stars curving above and around the outer ankle of each boot. Her wrist tape and elbow pads are also fuchsia, while her knee pads are white.
STARLA “SISSY” DANIEL
Chrissy’s niece saunters over to her, the Imp rising up to give her niece a hearty hug. With the mic resting on the ground, the elder Daniel’s words are for her niece to hear alone. “Make a statement, Sissy,” she tells her.
Sissy rolls her eyes and groans. “Pleeease don’t call me that…”
As Sissy pulls away, the Imp gives her niece a supportive swat on the tush before heading backstage. The younger Daniel heads toward the aisle, and as she does, a cold, feminine voice observes the following…
“Please remain calm,
The end has arrived,
We cannot save you,
Enjoy the ride,
This is the moment
You’ve been waiting for,
Don’t call it a warning,
This is a war”
All the while, this blonde bombshell remains poised on the stage, her eyes sparkling with malevolence as she regards the ring before her, and everyone in it.
At last, she begins to saunter down the aisle, the ire of the crowd seeming to grow the closer she gets to the ring. She comes to a halt, however, when confronted by one particular fan—a young man of about 20, sporting a “Sensational” Shea London t-shirt. The curvy blonde rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t pretend you’re not gonna be cheering your ass off when I’m jugging this bytch out five minutes from now,” she remarks.
She makes her way up the stairs, casually moving toward the middle of the apron. At which point, she suddenly spins her back to the ropes, extending both arms wide and clutching the top rope with each hand, her feet shifting into a broadened stance. The blonde throws her head back, casting her eyes up toward the rafters. In a sense, her body almost takes on the form of one of those stars adorning her gear. After a moment, she shuffles her feet back together, and her legs then propel her into a flip over the top rope.
And that display of athleticism earns her a grudging round of support as the announcer—his microphone reclaimed from Honey steps forward. “And introducing, hailing from Manhattan Beach, California… weighing in at one hundred and thirty-one pounds…”
Smirking, the voluptuous blonde steps toward the center of the ring.
“She is the Next Generation of Carnal Carnage… the Shooting Star of Seduction… She is SIIISSSSSSUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH…”
Without warning, Daniel turns toward the announcer, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him forward. While her right knee shoots up, SLAMMING between his legs. As those legs buckle, the blonde snatches the mic away from him, turning away to let him crumple to his knees.
“The name,” she says, “is STARLA Daniel. LEARN it. LOVE it. NEVER forget it!”
Daniel ‘THWAP’s the mic into the groaning announcer’s chest, leaving him little choice but to take it as he tumbles and rolls under the bottom rope. At that point, Craig Long calls for the bell, and both blonde’s commence to circling the ring. As they do, a solitary voice in the crowd emerges over the din of wordless cheers and applause. That one voice is quickly followed by more and more, until finally an arena full of FAWNatics are chanting just one thing…
“SIS-SY! SIS-SY! SIS-SY!”
Starla’s hands fly to her head, her palms pressing against her ears for a moment, before her fingers slide into her hair, the potential nepo baby fuming more and more by the second as the chant grows ever louder. For her part, Honey doesn’t join in, but she does encourage the FAWNatics to keep turning up the volume with a wave of her hand toward the ceiling. “SHUT UP!!!” Starla shouts. Her eyes screwing shut for an instant. When the audience fails to honor that request, she hisses, “SHUT YOUR F*CKING MOUTHS, OR IT’S THIS BYTCH WHO’S GONNA PAY FOR IT!!!”
A bemused Honey can’t help but grin. “Guess you’re just gonna have to shut ‘em up, aren’t you?” she teases, her body tensing as the two blonde’s draw closer.
“We’ll see if you’re still smiling when they’ve stopped their chanting and started cheering your motorboating me,” Starla counters.
Deciding the time for words had passed, Honey doesn’t bother answering. Instead, she lunges forward, Starla answering in kid, British and American blonde surging into a collar and elbow tie up. After a few moments jockeying for control, it’s Honey who emerges with the advantage—and with Starla’s head wedged against Honey’s side, secured in a tight side headlock. The crowd cheers, but their joy proves transient as Daniel worms her way out. But while escaping the headlock, the Shooting Star of Seduction keeps possession of Harris’ arm, cranking it up behind her back in a hammerlock. Daniel leans in, pointedly letting her gurls push into Honey’s back as she whispers, “You’re gonna wish you’d stayed in Jolly Old Ehhhhrrruuuuuhhhhh…”
The Sweet Sensation dips, managing to reverse Starla’s hammerlock into one of her own. And now it’s the Brit’s turn to nuzzle into her foe’s back. “YOU’RE gonna be the one wishing I didn’t come back,” Harris mutters. “You can have a nice long talk with your aunt about the checks her mouth writes for nauuuuuuuggghhhhhhhh…”
Daniel works her way out of the hammerlock, and now it’s HER turn to reach up and wrap an arm around Honey’s neck, drawing the Brit into a snug side headlock of her own. Keeping her foe’s face smushed against her side (not to mention her side boob), Starla purrs, “Just an appetizer. You’re gonna know ‘em like the back of your hand before the night’s over.”
“Weee… uhhhllll… see… about THAT…” Honey pants, punctuating the fine word by pushing her way out of the headlock and shooting Starla into the ropes. Immediately, the Sweet Sensation drops to the canvas, forcing Daniel to jump over her as the voluptuous American blonde hurtles back toward her opponent. Honey scrambles back to her feet, wheeling around just as Starla shoots toward her again, this time lowering her shoulder. It would have been more of a traditional tackle than a spear, had it connected. But Harris shows off her hops with a leapfrog. Feeling the breeze against her back as she whiffs on the tackle, Starla decides that’s wiser to hit the brakes than to shoot back off the ropes. But while one blonde gathers her momentum, the other channels hers, Honey diving into a forward role the instant her boots touch down against the mat. Springing back to her feet, the Sweet Sensational swivels to face a turning Starla, the curvier blonde not quite having re-acquired a lock on her prey. Harris takes advantage, launching into an abbreviated tumbling run—one which ends with her back to Daniel’s face. Vaulting backwards from that position, Harris lands astride her opponent’s shoulders. Clamping her thighs tight against the American’s noggin, Honey throws her weight backwards, RIPPING Daniel from her moorings and SPIKING the curvaceous blonde’s skull with a handspring reverse rana.
HANDSPRING REVERSE RANA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eiqaYVTnZoM
There is not the single slightest trace of irony that accompanies the “HO-LY POOP!” chant the FAWNatics give that impressive display, while the Shooting Star of Seduction comes falling to Earth, left in a shuddering heap flat on her back. Wasting no time, Honey applies the lateral press, hooking a leg and scoring the…
ONE…
TWO…
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Starla kicks out.
The crowd groans, but even with as impressive an impact as it had appeared, no one really expected that to be the finish. And fortunately, that no one includes Honey herself, because she doesn’t protest the near fall. Instead, she rises, hauling Daniel up with her. Taking her foe’s wrist, the Sweet Sensation starts to send the American blonde off with an Irish whip, only for Starla to dig in her heels and reverse it. But Harris isn’t quite ready to cede control of the contest yet. Leaping onto the middle rope, she springboards back toward her adversary, twisting her frame in flight, her chest connecting with Starla’s in a crossbody…
One of the hallmarks of Chrissy Daniel as a fighter had always been the incredible, deceptive strength and power she possessed in her barely over five foot frame. Starla’s being a little taller might have made it less surprising, but it’s not particularly less impressive when she only takes a half stumbling step back before gathering her balance, one arm wrapped up and under Honey’s back, the other threaded her legs. But the truly impressive comes when Daniel stuffs one hand into the Brit’s bosom, the other into her crotch, and THRUSTS the squirming blonde up and overhead with a military press.
Clearly, that trademark Daniel strength had not skipped a generation.
Suspended high in the air and helpless, Honey can only kick her legs, hoping against hope that she can somehow knock her opponent off balance and let her drop harmlessly to her feet. Unfortunately for the Brit, however, Starla gives up her footing voluntarily, dropping to one knee—and viciously depositing the Sweet Sensation across her posted knee, belly first. “UNNNNNGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH,” an impaled Honey moans, the collision of her yielding abs with Daniel’s knee sending her spilling to the mat, where she rolls over to her back, her right arm falling across her gulping tummy.
MILITARY PRESS GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=drt4IU0AZM8
Rising from her knee, Starla hairhauls a breathless, woozy Honey to her feet and starts to send her toward the knee ropes with an Irish whip. There’s no reversal from the British blonde… but there’s also no release from Daniel, and just as Harris’ back hits the ropes, the Shooting Star of Seduction yanks back on Honey’s arm, pulling the more experienced blonde into a swift and brutal kneelift to the pit of Honey’s already traumatized stomach. The Sweet Sensation doubles over, her legs buckling, but before she can collapse, Starla uses that continued grip on the Brit’s wrist to send her racing off with another Irish whip. This time she lets go, confident in the knowledge that her opponent doesn’t have the wind to summon a counter. Sure enough, the ropes shoot Honey back toward her, and Daniel drives ANOTHER ruthless kneelift into the pit of Honey’s belly, sending her flipping over the American blonde’s knee and crashing to the canvas.
Nudging the breathless Brit over with her boot, the Shooting Star of Seduction steps between Honey’s thighs, pushing the blonde’s left boot into the pit of her right knee before folding that gam and hooking Harris’ right boot around Daniel’s calf. With her victim’s legs securely trussed up, Starla spares a moment to slip a finger into each leghole and adjust her trunks before raising her other foot and pressing it down against the Sweet Sensation’s neck. With her legs knotted and Starla’s nearly full weight pinning her upper body to the mat, Harris can do little more than groan, her left arm reaching and sweeping for the bottom rope… which remains several frustrating feet out of her reach. A sympathetic Craig Long drops to one knee beside the pair. “You wanna give, Honey?”
Denied the ability to shake her head, Harris mutters, “Aggghhhhh…. Nuuuhhhoooooooo…”
“Who gives a sh*t what this bytch wants?” Starla snarls. “If she’s too stupid to know when she’s beat…” Smirking, Daniel adds a little insult to injury, placing her hands on her thighs and proceeding to do a few squats, Honey groaning in anguish with each descent of the curvier blonde…
… but she doesn’t give.
Fortunately for Honey, Starla soon grows bored of this particular form of torture. Stepping off the Brit’s neck, the Shooting Star of Seduction pulls Honey up, but only long enough to put her flat on her ass with a snapmare. Taking a small step back, Daniel then UNLOADS with a soccer kick to Harris’ back. The Sweet Sensation draws her closed fists up to her chest, Honey throwing her head back as she lets out a howl of pain. Tensing her shoulders, Harris climbs up to her knees, but that proves to be a mistake. Coming up behind her adversary, Daniel grabs the Brit’s arms and pulls back. Planting a foot against the back of Honey’s neck, Starla stomps down—sending the Sweet Sensation’s face SMASHING into the bottom turnbuckle!
TURNBUCKLE CURBSTOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCAyYx0Bssc
Harris’ body instantly loses all tension, her left arm spilling through the ropes as she’s left lying with her cheek resting on the leather padding of the bottom buckle. There was a greater than zero chance that Daniel might be able to score a three count, if she just pulled the Brit out of the corner and covered her. But she’s not finished. Snatching a handful of Honey’s flaxen lock, Starla pulls her up, turning the more experienced blonde’s back to the buckles before nudging Honey’s arms over the top rope. Bending down, Chrissy’s niece takes Honey’s right ankle and threads that leg over the middle rope before doing the same with the left, leaving Harris’ gams helplessly splayed open… only that turns out not to be Starla’s first target. No, first the voluptuous blonde spends a few seconds punishing Honey’s more modest gurls, treating the Brit’s boobs like speed bags.
THEN she takes a step back, and unleashes a SAVAGE sweeping kick to Honey’s nether regions. The Sweet Sensation’s eyes shoot crossed as her upper body pitches forward. Harris’ left leg extricates itself before her right does, and the British blonde melts into a mewling seat against the buckles. Moving to Honey’s feet, Starla grabs her foe’s ankles and drags her out of the corner, Daniel stuffs Harris’ boots under her arms before stepping over her back, in the process rolling Honey over to her belly. The Shooting Star of Seduction then sinks into a deep crouch, seemingly ready to apply a Boston Crab. But instead of settling in, Starla reaches down, her hands seeking out and finding the Brit’s wrists. Once she possesses them, Daniel rises up, hoisting Honey off the mat and into a Reverse Pendulum Swing, the curvier blonde adding a sassy swish of her hips as she swings the Sweet Sensation to and fro.
REVERSE PENDULUM SWING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=acZlAARxvyM
“What do you say, Honey?” Craig asks. Only before the British blonde can even offer an answer, Starla lets her go, Harris landing in a sprawled heap between Daniel’s feet. Hairhauling Honey up onto rubbery legs, the Shooting Star of Seduction takes her wrist and lines her up with the far corner, sending Harris off with an Irish whip. Daniel promptly charges in behind her, but Honey’s legs soon prove deceptively resilient, the Sweet Sensation springing onto the middle rope. Launching herself back at Starla, Harris’ butt strikes the American’s ample chest, Daniel’s arms instinctively snaking around Honey’s waist to catch her. As gravity pulls the British blonde downward, her hands drop to the canvas, Harris pushing herself up—just far enough to whip her body through Starla’s parted stems, her momentum pulling Daniel off her feet and sending the Shooting Star of Seduction SLAMMING face first into the middle turnbuckle via Honey’s trademark Honeycomb Facebuster.
HONEYCOMB FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYdS-j2LZXA
This sudden turn of the tide brings the FAWNatics to their feet, and Honey feeds off the energy of those cheers, their vocal support soothing every ache and pain in her body as the adrenaline starts to course through her voice. Scrambling to her feet, Harris races to the opposite corner. Leaping into the corner, the Sweet Sensation’s right food lands on the middle buckle as her right hand swoops down to slap the top, while Starla slumps to a reclining position against the opposite buckles. Launching herself back toward the splattered, buxom blonde, Honey throws herself into the air, her legs swooping up toward the rafters, until the Brit’s taut backside SLAMS into Daniel’s mug, Chrissy’s niece learning all about Honey’s Sting in Its Tail.
STING IN ITS TAIL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEnEnOzqsAY
Harris rolls away from the impact, the Brit’s momentum actually enough to propel her back to her feet for an instant, until she stumbles and drops back to her knees. Luckily, she’s able to regain her footing again before Daniel can recover. Grabbing the American’s ankles, Honey pulls her out of the corner, the circles around to the voluptuous blonde’s head. Reaching under Starla’s arms, the Sweet Sensation lifts her to a seated position before placing the crown of her skull against the left crook of Daniel’s neck. Underhooking the American’s arms, Honey’s flips forward, over her foe, forcing Starla’s upper body to fold down between her parted legs, Harris maintaining the bridge as she cranks on Daniel’s arms. While Honey keeps working the Cattle Mutilation, much to the FAWNatics’ delight, it’s now Starla who finds herself being asked by Craig Long whether she wants to call it a night.
“NO!” Daniel snaps. “NO FUGGHIINN’ WAAAYYYYAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”
Harris keeps working the hold for as long as she’s able, but eventually the strain of holding the bridge becomes too much. Reluctantly, she releases the hold, rolling away as Starla crawls over toward the ropes. Both blondes struggle to their feet, Honey making it just a little quicker than her adversary, Daniel using the ropes to pull herself up. As the curvaceous blonde turns away from the cables, the Sweet Sensation charges her, leaping and landing with her boots atop Daniel’s thighs. As Starla’s arms wrap around behind the Brit’s knees, Honey throws her weight toward the ropes, forcing the Shooting Star of Seduction to turn back toward the cables. Harris drops back, until her back hits the top rope and is launched into reverse. Honey’s hands move to the back of Daniel’s head as she continues to ascend, pushing the American’s noggin between her thighs as she flips over her, the FAWNatics losing their collective poop when the Sweet Sensation connects with an emphatic Reading Destroyer!
READING DESTROYER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6IkGmxvfbN8
Starla tumbles over to her knees, remaining slumped there, practically senseless until Honey pushes her over to her back. The Sweet Sensation drops to a seat atop Daniel’s chest, facing her feet, reaching to gather up and hook both legs as Craig Long slides into position. And the crowd is ready to blow the roof off the joint when Harris puts the finishing touches on this nepo baby’s debut.
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Starla throws her left fist into the air, raising her shoulder off the mat and breaking the count.
Incredulous, Honey slumps backward, burying her face in her hands in disbelief as the small of her back rests against Daniel’s right shoulder. Say what you will about this naughty Dottie, Honey had to hand it to her: she’s resilient.
Willing herself back to her feet, and willing down the disappointment of having been denied victory, the Sweet Sensation pulls her foe up to her feet, and attempts to send her off with an Irish whip. But Starla shows even greater resilience, digging in her heels and reversing it—even as her legs continue to look a little rubbery. Even as she shoots back toward the curvaceous blonde, Harris still feels in control. She leaps at her opponent, swiveling to face away from her opponent, the Sweet Sensation’s legs slipping around Starla’s waist as her upper body plummets toward the mat.
There are few in the business more adept at using the wheelbarrow than Honey Harris, but this time, Daniel is ready. The British blonde pushes off the canvas, but before she can whip her body around to face Starla execute her intended DDT, the curvaceous blonde’s arms snake underneath Honey’s. And where Daniel’s fingers lace together behind the Brit’s head, the Shooting Star of Seduction transforms the Sweet Sensation’s wheelbarrow into an elevated full nelson. Honey can only shake her head, before Daniel hops up and opens her legs wide, SLAMMING Harris down between them with an emphatic sitout facebuster than knocks the British blonde damn near into next week.
SIT OUT FULL NELSON FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZ_bfo9ztYg
Chrissy’s niece shoves the splattered Brit clear from between her legs, rolling Honey over to her back. But she foregoes the cover. Instead, she snatches a handful of the Brit’s blonde locks as she climbs to her feet, pulling the Sweet Sensation up with her just far enough to roughly shove Harris’ head between her thighs when she clamps on a standing headscissors. Bending forward, Daniel slips her arms under Honey’s waist, and then the Shooting Star of Seduction swings the more experience blonde up onto her right shoulder, strapping Honey into a Canadian backbreaker.
Starla makes sure to bounce on her heels. And no doubt many of the FAWNatics would have appreciated the resulting jiggle of Starla’s jugs, if they weren’t preoccupied with the anguished wails from Honey as her spine is punished by Daniel’s shoulder. But before Craig can even start to ask if the Brit wants to surrender, Chrissy’s niece is in motion, charging toward the near corner with her cargo. Closing in, Daniel swings Harris forward and down, as if executing a Dominator—only instead of slamming Honey face and chest first to the canvas, the Shooting Star of Seduction deposits her rival belly first across the top turnbuckle.
“NNNYYYYYUUUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” Harris moans, the impact enough to knock the wind out of her, leaving her hanging awkwardly when her head and arms slumping toward the mat and her legs kicking absently at the air outside the ring. Climbing onto the middle rope in front of her, Starla pushes Honey back, until the Sweet Sensation is left on an awkward perch, with her crotch resting on the thin metal station connecting the buckle to the ringpost. Pushing the Brit’s head under her left arm, Daniel underhooks Honey’s wings, pops her hips, and sends her CRASHING to the mat via the American’s Falling Star Suplex.
FALLING STAR SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Orz-JWT9QEI
And still, she doesn’t cover.
Climbing to her feet, Chrissy’s niece pulls Honey up once more, and once again guides her into a standing headscissor. Only this time, she reaches under the Brit’s torso, gathering up the Sweet Sensation’s all but limp arms. Crossing Honey’s arms, holding both wrists in one hand, she then reaches through from above to claim Harris’ right hand with her right, followed by the left hand with her left. Starla then swings her foe upward, as if preparing for a powerbomb—only thanks to the positioning of her arms holding Honey’s hands, the Brit’s legs sweep down her shoulders, Daniel settling into a wide crouch to allow Harris’ thighs to land atop hers, holding Honey facing her for a moment. Finally releasing the Brit’s hands, the Shooting Star of Seduction locks her left arm around her opponent’s neck, while Honey’s newly freed arms spill absently toward her own thighs, wrapping around Daniel’s back in a loose embrace. Starla then takes a couple of steps toward the center of the ring, making sure the Sweet Sensation is nowhere near the ropes when she drops back, putting a decisive bow on her debut by DRILLING the crown of Honey’s skull into the canvas.
BORN TO BE A STARLA:
youtu.be/SIrJ_t3xm-o?t=233
Honey flops over onto her back, weakly twitching but otherwise motionless. And finally, Starla goes for the cover, bypassing hooking the leg… but plunging a hand into the Brit’s damp locks.
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?
??Daniel sits up, pulling an insensate Honey Harris up with her, breaking the count. “… the hell, Starla???” Craig protests.
But the voluptuous blonde ignores him. Casually, she tosses Harris aside, leaving the Sweet Sensation to spill over onto her tummy. Getting to her feet, she folds Honey’s legs at the knees before stepping up onto her thighs. Hooking the British blonde’s boots over her calves, Starla leans forward, claiming her foes arms before rocking back, dropping to a seat on the mat. But instead of hoisted Honey aloft for the full Romero, Daniel keeps the British blonde on her knees, pulling back on her foe’s arms until Harris’ upper body is practically parallel to the ceiling. The strain on Honey’s knees is immediate and excruciating, jolting her back to a state of semiconsciousness…
… but it’s also soon the LEAST of Honey’s worries.
Starla laces her arms underneath Honey’s as she leans forward… an act with guides the Brit’s upside-down face directly into Starla’s cavernous cleavage!
DANIEL DREAMMAKER, inspired by:
youtu.be/zBX4N6U0css?t=214
The diabolical genius of Starla’s cruelty quickly becomes clear—at least to the FAWNatics, if not to the barely conscious Honey. The complete restriction of her mobility, coupled with the strain being placed on her knees… not to mention the strain on her neck, her head being forced back at such an unnatural angle… and that’s before getting into the disorienting effects of not only Starla’s ample jugs depriving the Brit of her vision, but the blood rushing to her brain coupled with the oxygen starvation…
It’s completely overwhelming.
Honey’s arms spasm back to life, but only for a moment, her movements all but completely involuntary. And the cease almost as soon as they begin. Craig Long doesn’t even bother checking arm, partly because he’s certain that the Sweet Sensation is alright out, but also because he doesn’t trust Daniel to have another trick or two up her sleeve. Mercifully, he calls for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
From the timekeeper’s table, the announcer declares, “Ladies and gentlemen, your wInner… by knockout… SIII…”
With the Dreammaker still locked in tight, Starla turns her head to glare in his direction.
“STTTAAARRRLLLAAA DAAANNNIIIEELLL!!!!!” the suitably chastised announcer concludes.
Just as Craig starts to order the Shooting Star of Seduction to release the hold, she complies, climbing to her knees and letting the greasy faced Honey slump against her. Reaching around, Starla takes the Brit’s right hand, curling the fingers into a fist, but pushing the thumb up and out. That thumb she raises toward Honey’s chin, the overhead lights glistening off a line of drool trailing down toward her jaw.
And Starla pushes that thumb past Honey’s slightly parted lips.
“Who’s the sissy now, bytch?”