Post by EmmaWoods007 on Feb 9, 2024 10:03:44 GMT
ANNABELLE DARK
ALESSANDRA BIANCHI
…Alessandra was growing frustrated, the cracks showing in her cool, calculating composure, the Apex Intellect forcibly tugging and tearing at one of the top turnbuckles until she successfully tore the protective padding away. With the steel bracket exposed, she looked at least a little satisfied with herself as the FAWNatics, not liking where this was going, voiced their collective, mounting displeasure.
She ignored them, as she felt she should, the loyalties of the crowd as fickle as the wind in her estimation, and not worth the effort of chasing.
Turning about, Bianchi returned to the ailing Annabelle closer to the centre of the ring, tugging her slowly rising adversary the rest of the way back up to boot leather before proceeding to drag the slightly sleeker brunette along by her hair.
“You will never learn,” Alessandra derided with a low, breathless mutter, exchanging her grip for the other young woman’s wrist and, with a sharp pull, launched her into a sprint by way of Irish Whip…
…only for Dark to turn the tables, snatching a hold of Bianchi’s wrist the moment she let go and instead launched the suddenly wide eyed, Digital Damsel across the ring instead!
Irish Whip turned against her, Bianchi’s heart skipped a beat as she just barely turned herself about, and yet still she collided with the exposed turnbuckle just the same. She yelped as the steel stud buried itself deep between her shoulders, and stumbled forwards with a wince that furrowed her whole brow, the crowd cheering her misfortune.
To make matters worse Annabelle, tilting her head a fraction to one side, lined up her shot and then PUNTED her adversary clean between her thighs, boot finding its mark with a shocking degree of precision.
Alessandra’s gasp was silent, her mouth hanging open as she teetered on the spot, her whole-body rigid before Dark, following a mildly apologetic shrug, folded her forwards and tugged her into a firm Front Headlock.
“Annabelle,” the Official moved to reprimand the low blow.
“Yes, yes, I know,” Dark rolled her eyes, the Midnight Maiden utterly unrepentant. “Very naughty, I promise to behave from now on,” she remarked before immediately going back on her word, snagging a tight hold of her opposites briefs and YANKING them up in a wicked looking wedgie, Alessandra yelping with a sharp twitch.
“More or less,” Annabelle shrugged before bracing herself, popping her opponent’s lower body up off the canvas before quickly flinging herself into reverse, NAILING the crown of the Gorgeous Geek deep against the plywood by way of Implant DDT!!
IMPLANT DDT: @0:04
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWygQsQzCiI
Bianchi jerked with a sharp spasm; her pert little booty briefly thrust skywards towards the rafters, before she slumped in a heap.
Dark rolled her over, whipping her hair about with a flourish, straddling her rivals’ hips and pressing her palms down on the other young woman’s shoulders, pinning her to the mat for…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
…confirming her victory, much to the relief of those watching.
As coy as could be, Annabelle lent forwards and kissed the Apex Intellect on the cheek before whispering, “Send Irons my regards, I’m sure that she misses me.”
Alessandra scowled back at her with as much venom as she could still summon, wincing as her body betrayed her many aches and pains.
Annabelle, flush with victory, ignored her own and rose quickly to her feet, pale complexation sheathed in a glistening layer of perspiration as, smug as a feline who had just stolen someone’s supper, she raised her right hand up high to accept her accolades…
…and then GASPED in paralysed shock, a kneeling Bianchi’s right arm DRIVEN up deep between her open thighs.
With the crowd calling foul, the match already over, Dark took a trembling step forward before Alessandra collected her, snatching the Lightning Reaper by her hair and dragging her along for a handful of rapid strides. Arriving at their destination, the Digital Damsel wrenched back the ailing Annabelle’s noggin before whipping it forwards, BOUNCING her adversary’s forehead directly off the still exposed steel buckle!!
With the Promise of New Storms ruthlessly rendered visibly more flaccid, Bianchi dragged her along by her mane once again, leading her back to centre circle.
“You can give Irma your regards in person,” Alessandra muttered, her jaw set in a tight line. “After I serve you back up to her.”
Stuffing the stunned, Midnight Maidens head in tight between her thighs, she paused to make sure the whole world was watching before she knocked her lights out, “Simpleton.”
She reached down, preparing to encircle Annabelle’s softly gulping tummy…
….and got no further, not when the crowd erupted upon witnessing a petitely packaged blonde surging out from their number, deftly leaping the barricades and diving into the ring.
Bianchi, reacting swiftly to the sudden invasion, tossed Dark aside and spun on the spot, raising her defences…
…far too late, the Born Iconic Athlete, Gloria Style, taking the Gorgeous Geek clean off her feet with a beautiful clothesline!!
GLORIA STYLE
Alessandra went down hard but popped right back up, fuelled by desperation, turning about and…
…running straight into the waiting arms of the Blue-Eyed Babe, Gloria cupping her by her thighs and vaulting her counterpart up into the air before FLINGING right back down with a stunning Spinebuster!!
CRASHING down against the deck across her back and shoulders, the already war weary Bianchi bounced several inches and released a heady grunt. Instinctively, she chose the better part of valour, riding the momentum to roll out of the ring and escape to the outside. She immediately retreated, throwing a venomous glare in the direction of Style in the ring, silently seething to be the target of the All-American Angels retaliation against the Apex Nation.
Gloria, initially challenged Alessandra to step back into the confines of the squared circle with her arms outstretched. Upon it becoming obvious that she wouldn’t, Style flashed her most winning smile and dipped sleekly in a low bow with a crowd pleasing, booty displaying flourish.
As Bianchi withdrew and Annabelle started to come to, Gloria stood tall in the middle of the squared circle, gauntlet thrown back down to one, Darla Diane Davis…
ALESSANDRA BIANCHI
…Alessandra was growing frustrated, the cracks showing in her cool, calculating composure, the Apex Intellect forcibly tugging and tearing at one of the top turnbuckles until she successfully tore the protective padding away. With the steel bracket exposed, she looked at least a little satisfied with herself as the FAWNatics, not liking where this was going, voiced their collective, mounting displeasure.
She ignored them, as she felt she should, the loyalties of the crowd as fickle as the wind in her estimation, and not worth the effort of chasing.
Turning about, Bianchi returned to the ailing Annabelle closer to the centre of the ring, tugging her slowly rising adversary the rest of the way back up to boot leather before proceeding to drag the slightly sleeker brunette along by her hair.
“You will never learn,” Alessandra derided with a low, breathless mutter, exchanging her grip for the other young woman’s wrist and, with a sharp pull, launched her into a sprint by way of Irish Whip…
…only for Dark to turn the tables, snatching a hold of Bianchi’s wrist the moment she let go and instead launched the suddenly wide eyed, Digital Damsel across the ring instead!
Irish Whip turned against her, Bianchi’s heart skipped a beat as she just barely turned herself about, and yet still she collided with the exposed turnbuckle just the same. She yelped as the steel stud buried itself deep between her shoulders, and stumbled forwards with a wince that furrowed her whole brow, the crowd cheering her misfortune.
To make matters worse Annabelle, tilting her head a fraction to one side, lined up her shot and then PUNTED her adversary clean between her thighs, boot finding its mark with a shocking degree of precision.
Alessandra’s gasp was silent, her mouth hanging open as she teetered on the spot, her whole-body rigid before Dark, following a mildly apologetic shrug, folded her forwards and tugged her into a firm Front Headlock.
“Annabelle,” the Official moved to reprimand the low blow.
“Yes, yes, I know,” Dark rolled her eyes, the Midnight Maiden utterly unrepentant. “Very naughty, I promise to behave from now on,” she remarked before immediately going back on her word, snagging a tight hold of her opposites briefs and YANKING them up in a wicked looking wedgie, Alessandra yelping with a sharp twitch.
“More or less,” Annabelle shrugged before bracing herself, popping her opponent’s lower body up off the canvas before quickly flinging herself into reverse, NAILING the crown of the Gorgeous Geek deep against the plywood by way of Implant DDT!!
IMPLANT DDT: @0:04
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWygQsQzCiI
Bianchi jerked with a sharp spasm; her pert little booty briefly thrust skywards towards the rafters, before she slumped in a heap.
Dark rolled her over, whipping her hair about with a flourish, straddling her rivals’ hips and pressing her palms down on the other young woman’s shoulders, pinning her to the mat for…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
…confirming her victory, much to the relief of those watching.
As coy as could be, Annabelle lent forwards and kissed the Apex Intellect on the cheek before whispering, “Send Irons my regards, I’m sure that she misses me.”
Alessandra scowled back at her with as much venom as she could still summon, wincing as her body betrayed her many aches and pains.
Annabelle, flush with victory, ignored her own and rose quickly to her feet, pale complexation sheathed in a glistening layer of perspiration as, smug as a feline who had just stolen someone’s supper, she raised her right hand up high to accept her accolades…
…and then GASPED in paralysed shock, a kneeling Bianchi’s right arm DRIVEN up deep between her open thighs.
With the crowd calling foul, the match already over, Dark took a trembling step forward before Alessandra collected her, snatching the Lightning Reaper by her hair and dragging her along for a handful of rapid strides. Arriving at their destination, the Digital Damsel wrenched back the ailing Annabelle’s noggin before whipping it forwards, BOUNCING her adversary’s forehead directly off the still exposed steel buckle!!
With the Promise of New Storms ruthlessly rendered visibly more flaccid, Bianchi dragged her along by her mane once again, leading her back to centre circle.
“You can give Irma your regards in person,” Alessandra muttered, her jaw set in a tight line. “After I serve you back up to her.”
Stuffing the stunned, Midnight Maidens head in tight between her thighs, she paused to make sure the whole world was watching before she knocked her lights out, “Simpleton.”
She reached down, preparing to encircle Annabelle’s softly gulping tummy…
….and got no further, not when the crowd erupted upon witnessing a petitely packaged blonde surging out from their number, deftly leaping the barricades and diving into the ring.
Bianchi, reacting swiftly to the sudden invasion, tossed Dark aside and spun on the spot, raising her defences…
…far too late, the Born Iconic Athlete, Gloria Style, taking the Gorgeous Geek clean off her feet with a beautiful clothesline!!
GLORIA STYLE
Alessandra went down hard but popped right back up, fuelled by desperation, turning about and…
…running straight into the waiting arms of the Blue-Eyed Babe, Gloria cupping her by her thighs and vaulting her counterpart up into the air before FLINGING right back down with a stunning Spinebuster!!
CRASHING down against the deck across her back and shoulders, the already war weary Bianchi bounced several inches and released a heady grunt. Instinctively, she chose the better part of valour, riding the momentum to roll out of the ring and escape to the outside. She immediately retreated, throwing a venomous glare in the direction of Style in the ring, silently seething to be the target of the All-American Angels retaliation against the Apex Nation.
Gloria, initially challenged Alessandra to step back into the confines of the squared circle with her arms outstretched. Upon it becoming obvious that she wouldn’t, Style flashed her most winning smile and dipped sleekly in a low bow with a crowd pleasing, booty displaying flourish.
As Bianchi withdrew and Annabelle started to come to, Gloria stood tall in the middle of the squared circle, gauntlet thrown back down to one, Darla Diane Davis…