Post by SammieSinclair on Jan 10, 2015 9:12:19 GMT
One step away. Kylie had been here, one win away from the World Championship a few times in her career. The moments had been far between but very similar up to now, a considerable underdog entering and a deflated, demolished loser leaving. But tonight, as she bounced backstage before the final match of Season’s Beatings, a different vibe filled the air around the former Pleasant Valley Princess and new Queen of Mean.
“Sixty seconds…Kylie,” a man shouted.
The elfin blonde responded with nothing more than a grunt and moved to her jumping off point.
The flunky offered Sanders a possibly sincere “Good luck” and received a scowl in response.
“Keep it to yourself, doofus. Or give it to Emily.”
Sanders fluffed her flaxen locks, the strands growing longer than they’d been in a long while.
“Let’s go, damn it.”
The sound of The Clash started to fill the arena, namely a song from a certain album by the name of ‘London Calling’, and with it an absolute torrent of jeers that now rivaled Lisa Dream or even Portia VanBuren.
The Hawkeye pushes through and claimed a spot center stage. She hopped in place, ruby lips twisted in a smirk, rolling her shoulders and throwing a few shadow punches.
The FAWNactics soaked in the new look Kylie and ‘WOW’ seemed to be the collective word. Gone were the black lycra sports bra and boy-cut trunks, the Tigerhawk of her alma mater nowhere to be seen. Instead, she wore the garb from her recent Gladiatrix cover shoot, white lace bra top and similarly fashioned and brief lower togs with white boots and pads. Apparently bad girls could wear white.
Kylie started her trip down the ramp as The Clash continued…
“So alone I keep the wolves at bay…
And there’s only one thing I can say..ayy…ayy…
You didn’t stand by me…
No not at all…
You didn’t stand by me…
No way”
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYkQK8QsQ2w&index=3&list=LLU6MWpP-rt2kWv-tOm824HA
Energized by the hate, Ky ignored the reaching hands and oft-thrown jeers and insults, the pathetic pleas for her to come back to her senses finally and thankfully gone. Reaching the ring and rising up the steps, Kylie turned and took a view of the packed bowl, seemingly every seat occupied by the vapid fans that had jumped off the bandwagon. Kylie walked down the length of the apron and accepted a microphone from a flunky. While she did, the Announcer finally made her arrival official.
“Ladies and gentlemen it is time for our Main Event! The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a sixty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN World Championship! Introducing first, she is the challenger, hailing from Pleasant Valley, Iowa, she stands ative five feet four inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and fifteen pounds, this is…KYLIE SANDERS!”
The crowd only doubled its enmity and volume. Sanders slipped through the ropes and claimed the center of the ring. She lifted the microphone to pink, pastel lips.
“As you all know, I AM the uncrowned Lightweight and Intercontinental champion, having only lost to Nyssa Bloodwind because of a jealous referee and an illegal disqualification and having beaten Juliet Bloodwind to putty in a non-title affair.”
The crowd unloaded with their hate from every direction and Sanders promptly responded with a small knowing grin.
“And tonight, I top it off with my crowning achievement. To take the World Title back for the people, well, one person. Me. No longer do I have to carry the unrelenting burden of all your pathetic hopes and dreams. You losers made me one. Guess what…no longer.”
A chant erupted from the crowd that turns Kylie’s face sour. “TROLL… TROLL… TROLL!”
“Shut the hell up before I go out there and slap each and every last one of you.”
No use, the blonde was forced to continue with the fans providing their claim in the background.
“While the careers of the Bloodwinds temporarily survive by the skin of their teeth, I plan on permanently solving many of FAWN’s problems tonight by eliminating the head of the snake that is the Black Court. Without Emily, the rest of that pathetic creature will wither and die, leaving room enough for the most glorious titleholder in FAWN’s long and storied history…me…to flower. All eyes should be on me and will be on me. I’ve earned it. So Emily, you and your tired hired guns…”
Kylie seemed more than ready to continue her soliloquy well into the night, but she’s interrupted by a spit of static that portended the arrival of the woman from whom she would relieve FAWN’s top prize.
HANDLEBARS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=waRtcBy_GMI
When the static came the lights left, albeit not for long. Accompanied by the plinking introduction to ’Handlebars’, a bank of spotlights illuminated the squared circle, transforming it into an eight by eight grid of black and white squares, the only chessboard worthy of the architect of FAWN’s grand design. When Jonny 5 reminded everyone he could ‘keep rhythm with no metronome, no metronome’ Emily West stepped through the curtain.
EMILY WEST:
Pretty features remarkably solemn in the gloom, Emily stepped forward, reached to the small of her back and undid the clasp holding the World Title in place. This she raised overhead, a direct answer to the woman who thought she could take what was hers. The belt was still hoisted when the Announcer went on, “And introducing her opponent, representing the Black Court hailing from Dunwich Massachusetts, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in tonight at one-hundred and twenty-two pounds. She is the One Hundredth Percentile, the Black Queen and the reigning and defending FAWN World Champion… EMILY WEST!”
For her latest battle with her first and arguably greatest FAWN rival, Emily wore a gleaming black corset with half a dozen tiny silver buttons that started just below her sternum and ended just above her navel. Below, the corset flowed seamlessly into a matching black skirt edged in delicate white lace. Traveling yet farther south (across perhaps three inches of exquisitely toned thigh) West’s strong legs were armored in black nylon stockings topped by more lace (albeit in black) and shiny black wrestling boots that reached to just below the knee. Her big match look was accessorized with flat black pads at elbow and knee and a completed by a wide choker done in black velvet. From this choker hung a small onyx pendant carved into the shape of Emily’s favorite chess piece.
Oddly disinterested in what the crowd had to say on this night, Emily started down the aisle and would’ve blown by each and every one of them if she hadn’t saw a sign with a picture of Kylie that read:
THIS IS YOUR MESS, EM. CLEAN IT UP.
Emily paused, looked the woman holding the message dead in the eye and murmured, “That is EXACTLY what I intend to do, madam.” Looking to the squared circle with a renewed sense of purpose, the Sensual Scholar made her way to the steps, ascended them, then paused at the top while the canvas regained its usual appearance. Gliding between the ropes when everything was just so, West crossed the ring and mounted the far turnbuckles to better look out on all the pieces of her game board. After a moment she raised the title and tapped the faceplate three times.
I’m. So. Smart.
For once the pawns didn’t seem to disagree, a development which brought the tiniest smile to Emily’s lips. Hopping down from the buckles, she handed the belt to Senior Referee Nick Castle and offered her wrists, ankles, elbows and knees for a quick inspection. “There is a lesson that needs to be taught tonight, Nicholas.” she said once he was done. “I would consider it a favor if you let me teach it how I see fit.”
“Keep it within the rules and you can teach her for a full sixty minutes for all I care. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The bell sounded and the crowd roared all the louder, though theirs was not the sound of a throng eager to see a heroine triumph. Rather it was the incensed shriek of a betrayed friend hoping to see she who had wronged them receive a long overdue comeuppance. Dismissing it as so much sound and fury, Kylie Sanders stomped out to the center of the squared circle and claimed it as her very own because who the hell was going to stop her?
“Game time’s over, Emily. Now that I’ve exposed those two shytbirds for the frauds they are, it’s time the uncrowned Lightweight Champion and the uncrowned Intercontinental Champion became the crowned World Champion.” She paused to smile, her hazel eyes gleaming wickedly. “That I get to take it off your pompous, overrated, OVERPROTECTED ass is just icing.”
Emily had remained remarkably stoic throughout the challenger’s tirade, but the culmination of her old foe’s threats brought a wide grin to her face. Pushing off the buckles, she angled left and started to circle, forcing Kylie to turn with her. “While I am sure we are both eager for this reckoning, allow me a moment to recap the events that brought us to this precise moment.”
Ky raised her hands and curled them into claws, but she made no move to advance, not yet anyway. She’d let West burn through all her pretty words, then she’d cram them down the obnoxious bytch’s throat.
Seeing that Sanders wouldn’t interrupt, Emily went on. “Over the course of the last year you have been a part of two tag teams, one which ended when you allowed your partner to get injured and another which became a far more successful tandem the moment you were jettisoned. In singles competition you have been crushed by every visible member of my Court save for Lenore, and we all know what happens when the two of you share a ring. Those losses aside, you were defeated by yet ANOTHER former tag partner and made to surrender by your replacement shortly thereafter. Finally crushed by the weight of all these failures, you--”
Kylie pounced without saying a word, her right fist balled and swinging for the fences of Emily’s chin with a brutal Haymaker. What might’ve been a pace-setting shot whiffed into nothingness when West went low and threaded her ankles between Sanders’s lead foot. A single twitch from the champion put her challenger on the mat, Kylie’s chin thumping unpleasantly against the thinly-sheathed plywood.
Spinning clear of the Drop Toe Hold without missing a beat, West stood up and resumed her recitation. “As I was saying, the accumulated pressure of nearly nine months of failure finally proved too much for even your storied ego and with one savage act you dismissed the only group of people who never abandoned you, failure or otherwise.”
Up and circling again, Sanders stopped and actually gaped at the brunette. “YOU are giving me shit about getting rid of those oxygen wasters? They held me back for years! They kept me addicted to failure! They--”
“Were the only reason you ever beat me in that cage.” Emily said softly.
Kylie raked a hand through her hair, the other was pressed against her thigh in a white-knuckled fist. “You always did talk too much, West.”
The Amazing Academic took a step back, but kept the toes of one boot pressed to the canvas in front of her. Drawing a line between them, she added, “Don’t like my mouth, farm girl? Shut it.”
That was all the invitation Sanders needed and she came on like an Iowa thunderstorm, swift and merciless. Wading into West for the clinch, she didn’t bother with a traditional Collar & Elbow, choosing instead to go straight for the brunette’s hair. Emily hissed in pain but didn’t call to Castle, rather she hooked her fingers into Kylie’s blonde tousle and pulled for all she was worth. Foreheads grinding, noses brushing, the pair of longtime rivals staggered around the ring, skidding off the ropes and caroming off buckles all while the ref tried to break them up and the crowd urged them on.
Finally Kylie worked the Black Queen into a set of buckles and tummied up on her, forcing Emily to carry every bit of her hundred and fifteen pounds while simultaneously trying to rip out fistfuls of dark hair. “I should’ve ended you in that cage,” Sanders hissed to the wincing battler, “but I let you escape like a cockroach scurrying away when someone turns on the light. Not tonight, Emily. Tonight I show these people why I’m the next World Champ AND FAWN’s true Black Qu--”
Castle shouldered his way into the fray and wedged the wrestlers apart, a task no one envied. “I’m only going to say this once!” he barked. “This is not No DQ and it’s not Penthouse Rules either! You’re going to follow my commands or I’ll end this right now, are we clear?”
Emily smoothed back her stinging hair, then nodded. “Of course, Nicholas. Kylie and I were just reminiscing about old times.”
Sanders huffed in disgust. “You pretentious little twit, could you just shut up and fi--”
Emily snaked around the shield of the official to CRAAACK Ky’s cheek with a dismissive Bytch Slap. Maddened by the rebuke, Kylie grabbed the ref by the shoulders, shoved him out of the way and lunged for West only to find herself skewered on the point of her foe’s boot. Helping herself to another double fistful of Kylie’s flaxen locks, Em reared back and BWUUUNGED opposing noggin into the top buckle once, twice, thrice. Sanders started to wobble after that, so Em dropped to one knee, which forced her blonde to do the same. From there she BWUUUNGED Kylie’s forehead against the middle buckle three more times.
Stunned by the repeated blows, the Heartland Horror grabbed hold of the second rope to keep from giving any more ground, but Emily wouldn’t be denied and with a little rough maneuvering she forced Sanders down onto her tummy. Pressing Kylie’s face against the bottom buckle, West leaned in very close and whispered, “Same old Kylie. Lost to one Bloodwind on a disqualification, couldn’t beat the other when it counted and yet here you are contending for a world title. If nothing else you will go down in history as FAWN’s most spectacular example of upward failure.”
The Insidious Intellectual yanked Kylie’s head back, then BWUUUNGED it against the bottom buckle and scrubbed her features back n’ forth until Castle reached ‘FOUR!’ on a slightly accelerated count. Raising her hands to illustrate compliance, Emily stood up and took a step back only to bend over and SPANK a single swat against blonde glutes.
Kylie barely registered the sting from the slap, but the delighted cry from the crowd rang quite loud in her pulsing skull. Clambering to her knees, she took a moment to wipe her face, then stood up and turned around. “I may not have any use for those career-killing assholes anymore,” she told Emily, “but just this once I’m going to give them something they always wanted. I’m going to beat you to within an inch of your goddamned life.”
Emily offered her a smile utterly devoid of humor. “And just this once I will take control of the Corps, if only so they know what it means to have a leader who won’t abandon them.”
Kylie sucked in a hateful hiss, choked it down, then raised her right hand to the rafters. Emily had no qualms about a Test of Strength, she was however, a stickler for making sure things went through the proper channels. “Must I remind you that while you were having the worst year of your professional life I assumed leadership of the FAWN locker room and guided it through a period of stability it hasn’t seen in a decade? So if you want ANYTHING from me, Kylie Sanders… you’re going to ask for it on bended knee.”
With that she backed up to the center of the ring, where she promptly lifted her left hand overhead.
“I’m sorry,” Sanders said while lacing her fingers with those of West. “I don’t ask for anything anymore.” Kylie raised her opposite hand and cinched her fingers tight with Emily’s when they interlocked. “Particularly from people….” The blonde tensed as did her counterpart, little biceps pulsing. “…who’ve made a career out of taking credit…” Kylie huffed out a breath between words, starting to roll her wrists over the buxom brunette’s. “…for what other people…” a determined grin emerged on the elfin blonde as she pushed down. “…have…”
A grunt followed the word as her progress ground to a halt, smile turning to pursed lips then gritting teeth emerged. With the crowd hesitant to chant Emily’s name but doing so nonetheless, West forced up to even. Kylie shook her head in frustration and disbelief. And when Emily rolled her wrists over and Kylie started to descend, the FAWNatics showed no compunction regarding their support.
“I believe the word you were looking for…” West growled as Kylie lowered before her, desperation growing in Sanders’ visage. “ is…done”. And with the word released from her lips, Sanders indeed genuflected before the World Champion, the crowd eating up the inability for Kylie to rise despite her fruitless best efforts.
“Ask,” West said. “And ask nicely.”
Pl…pl…please,” Sanders stammered, gulping hard. “Please may I…KICK YOUR ASS.”
Kylie threw her weight backward, ending on the mat on a curled spine, her right boot placed on Emily’s pelvis. The Hawkeye used the laced fingers to pull a startled Emily toward her and flipped the brunette over her head. Handgrips broken, West landed on her pear-shaped derriere. Though Ky couldn’t see it, West winced noticeably, but she scrambled to her feet only a tick behind Kylie.
It’s enough for Sanders to secure a tight Side Headlock on the champion. Ky wrenched on West’s head and neck.
“Where’s the Court tonight? Have to have them on speed dial,” Kylie grunted. “Just surprised they didn’t come out with you.”
“Gave’em the night off,” Emily huffed as her hands came up to Sanders’ hips. “We both know I don’t need them for you.”
West shoved Kylie off and the Hawkeye used the supplied momentum to race to the ropes and rebound, ready to Spear the holy hell out of Emily on her return. But when Ky made the u-turn, her hazel eyes bugged wide, as the brunette was upon her, DRIVING a knee into Kylie’s midriff, doubling over the gasping blonde.
Emily took a wrist and quickly sent Sanders on her way for another run to the ropes. This time she allowed Kylie some lead time. The Hawkeye got several steps out of the strands before meeting up with a sprinting Emily who again used her knee as the weapon of choice, THRUSTING it into Kylie’s gut. A skewered Kylie flipped over the impaling joint and landed hard on her back and curled up the instant she touched down.
Behind her, Emily surged toward the seated Ky from behind. West briskly front flipped over Kylie’s right shoulder, grabbing Sanders’ noggin as she tumbled by. Em SPIKED skull into canvas, forehead meeting mat between Kylie’s extended stems. The Hawkeye’s braincase and upper body snapped back in whiplash-like fashion, Kylie spreading out in a horizontal single-file, cradling the back of her head, boot leather pattering against the canvas.
On the other end of the maneuver, West somersaulted to her feet and, without even looking behind her to see the results, she tapped at her temple, mouthing “TOO SMART”. Perhaps surprisingly, a fair portion of the crowd tapped at their temple and pointed at Emily, something that seemed to put West in good humor.
The busty brunette strode back to Kylie, shaking her head.
“It’s amazing how your capital with the Corps has dried up in less than a Miskatonic semester. A mile wide and an inch deep it seems.”
West reached down to pluck Kylie off the deck by a handful of flaxen locks, but Kylie did some reaching of her own. She tugged West into a forward roll and the Amazing Academic found herself squirming within a Small Package, shoulders planted to the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
Before the champ kept her reign in place with a kick-out. Both women clambered to their feet, the race an even one. But Emily fired first with a Toe Kick to the tummy. Only this time, Ky was ready, snatching the boot around the ankle before it could invade her abdomen. Kylie lifted the right leg high with one arm and tapped her right temple with a forefinger, cupid’s arrow-shaped lips curling into a smile. It’s short-lived mirth as Emily leapt off her planted foot and swung an Enzugiri up and around, CLAPPING into the temple Kylie had just finger-tapped a moment before. The force of the blow sent Kylie staggering drunkenly away, Sanders staying upright only with the help of the ropes, her back leaning heavily into the cables, Ky throwing her arms over the top before she tried to shake her senses back into place.
Alas Emily wasn’t in the mood to let up. She chased after the wayward blonde, yanking her off the ropes then shoving her to the middle. Catching up with Kylie center stage from behind, West captured Sanders’ left arm and folded it into a neat Hammerlock, wrenching hard enough to send a mewling Kylie up to tiptoes. Sanders spouting a chirpy “Bytch”.
With Kylie’s arm tied up, the curvy champ scooped Sanders off the deck from her side and laid out, sending Ky flopping over in a Backdrop Suplex, the elfin blonde landing on her bended arm. The Hawkeye howled and shuddered in pain, pulling the wing out from underneath her and cradling it gingerly. While she worked at the limb, Emily headed for the nearest set of buckles and scaled them easily. Rising to a stance on the top, staring in at her challenger, Emily’s chest heaves as she bounced in place a time or two, judging the distance she’ll need to land her Diving Kneedrop across Kylie’s chest.
DIVING KNEEDROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4GCUe6AcBGc
Not surprisingly, it’s right on target and the impact sent the bedraggled Kylie into another set of spasms. Meanwhile, Emily bounced to her feet and tapped a temple.
“I’m only using eight percent, people.” she admitted to the crowd. The Black Queen strutted regally to the former Pleasant Valley Princess and used her as a red carpet striding atop Kylie’s open tummy while walking to the other side of the ring.
Behind the champ, who seemed to enjoy the crowd being putty in her hands, a groaning, gagging Kylie rolled to her aching abdomen and pushes up to all fours, frozen there as she drew in deep breaths.
Once she was finished basking in whatever remedial glory those assembled could offer up, the Insidious Intellectual rounded on one heel and made her way back to Kylie, who’d made it to one knee in the interim. “I know you’re too proud to ask for a hand,” Emily said quietly, “which is why I’m going to give it to you without offGHOOAAAH!”
Sanders stuffed her right arm between the brunette’s thighs, hooked it around Em’s right thigh and surged to verticality in a textbook Fireman’s Carry. Slinging her other arm around the base of West’s skull before anyone save herself had fully processed the situation, Kylie whirled in a circle and bellowed, “LAST ONE, LOSERS! TAKE ALL THE PICTURES YOU NNNNGGGHHHH!”
Emily drilled the point of her elbow into the side of Sanders’s head once, twice, three times. They proved more than enough to loosen the challenger’s bonds and West slipped down her back to land in a tense crouch. Too infuriated with Kylie’s abrupt resurgence to bother with anything more complicated, the Amazing Academic seized hold of her opponent’s ankles and yanked them out from underneath. Already woozy following the elbows, Sanders’s head grew all the foggier when she toppled forward and THWHUNKED down hard on her face, chest and belly. Hands pressed her aching chin, Ky tried to roll toward the ropes, alas her progress was halted by the World Champion, who’d settled into a snug mount just above the pits of her foe’s knees.
“The messageboards will have a field day with this.” Em’s muttered as she went about cracking her knuckles and rolling her wrists. “They’ll say I’m going to turn face and turn the Court into the second coming of the Super Friends, but we both know that isn’t true. Because what I’m about to do isn’t for them. It’s strictly for you and I.”
Kylie pushed up on an elbow and looked back over her left shoulder. “Don’t even think about it, Emily. I swear, you do this and I’ll AAARRGGGHH FAAAAHHHK!”
West crossed her hands in a stubby ‘X’, then worked the ‘J’ curves of her thumbs and forefingers into the deep crease just beneath Kylie’s buttocks. Unable to stop themselves, several betrayed Corps shouted ‘BRILLIANT HAND!’ when Emily dug in and Kylie shrieked in pain. The blonde’s initial reaction entailed burying both hands in her hair, but the burn in her scalp started to fade after a few seconds while the burn in her thighs grew all the hotter. Removing them from her tousle with a grim snarl, Ky braced her left hand against the mat and reaaaaaaaaaaaached back with the right, trying desperately to get a hold on the brunette’s hair. Or claw her nose off, the Iowan wasn’t picky at this point.
It was a valiant effort, no one would deny that, unfortunately West had been utilizing this particular torture since she’d been a sophomore in college and she remained mere inches out of reach. Taking in the heat of Kylie’s desperation with a satisfied smile, Emily gooooouged her thumbs back n’ forth along that crease, all the while doing her best to peel the challenger’s thighs off the bone. After more than fifteen seconds of hapless squirming from the blonde, Emily murmured, “We’ve already had this conversation, Kylie. You can ask me to break the hold… or you can crawl across the canvas like any other pawn.”
Ky shook her head ’no’, silencing a less oblique question of submission from Castle before it could even leave his lips. “If I ask you for ANYTHING,” she rasped, “it’ll be to lick my boots. Got that, brainiaKKEERRRGGGGHHH!”
West bore down on the Hammy Clamp, forcing the blonde to scream into her elbow to deny the former Corps the pleasure of her pain. Fiercely determined to stuff the proverbial middle finger in all their smug faces, Sanders dug her fingers into the mat, then forced herself into the sturdiest push-up she could manage and started inching her way across the canvas. The going was worse than slow, it was exhausting, even with West not actively fighting her advance, the strain on her arms was immense and by the end Kylie was crawling along on her elbows. Tossing an arm over the bottom rope, she turned her head to one side and spat, “Please be so kind as to get your FAT ASS off me, your majestYYOOOOWWW BYTCH!”
While her fun with the Clamp might have been at an end, Emily treated herself to another few seconds of amusement by grabbing a massive double handful of Kylie’s white briefs and yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanked them up until the Hawkeye voiced a soprano warble that rivaled Eliza Bliss. Dragging herself out onto the apron the very instant West released the wedgie, Sanders sucked wind and plucked her violated togs into something much closer to their original alignment. Eventually she grabbed the middle rope in one hand and used it to drag herself to something like verticality. “You… miserable… bytch,” she growled at the Black Queen, who watched from only a few feet away. “I always knew you were a fahking sadist.”
Emily sighed, a quiet, disappointed sound. “Just as I always knew you were a spineless coward. But I desperately wanted to be wroNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Kylie lunged over the ropes and CRAAACKED West’s face with a walloping Bytch Slap fueled by six years of hatred. Knocked in wobbly circle by the surprise attack, Emily regained her equilibrium almost at once and raced toward the ropes, her shoulders dropping low for the Spear that would-- Kylie stepped aside and jabbed her right knee forward just in time to THWHUNK West’s noggin as she shot through the strands.
Saved from an ungodly fall to the floor by nothing but the taut expanse of the middle rope, West quickly found her position strengthened by Sanders, when the blonde snagged a double handful of hair. This was hardly a boon however, as the enraged Iowan immediately THWHUMPED her nerd crushin’ knee into Emily’s forehead and chest more than a half a dozen times in less than five seconds.
APRON KNEE STRIKES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBOGk5iQTvI
She would’ve happily gone on if not for Castle’s count, which he started far too quickly for the challenger’s liking. “Fine, you want me to stop with the knees?” she hit one more just for good measure. “I’ll stop with the knees. But you’re not going to like the alternative.” Reeling West’s head into a rough Front Facelock, Ky backed down the apron and tugged hard, forcing the stunned brunette to climb her way out onto the apron. “Wonder how you’ll do on I.Q. test after this match?” Sanders let the question hang for all of a heartbeat before she dropped to the floor and THWHUNKED Emily’s forehead to the apron with a brutal DDT. The Sensual Scholar jolted up at a near forty-five degree angle and probably would’ve tumbled to the floor if she hadn’t somehow looped an arm over the middle rope.
APRON DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UpEGzxjvfIc
Kylie provided her own assistance shortly thereafter, the rejuvenated blonde stuffing her old rival under the bottom rope like she was little more than a bag of laundry. Hanging back on the floor to gather her wits, Kylie took note of the brunette’s position and she felt like taking the high road, albeit in a literal sense, as her days of kowtowing to those idiot fans were emphatically over. Once the decision was made she hopped onto the apron and strutted to the nearest corner, which she climbed with no real sense of urgency. Rising to her full height over FAWN’s so called queen, Kylie looked out at the crowd, then raised her right hand and tapped her temple.
“I’m. So.” The Heartland Horror pulled it away and offered the throng a one fingered salute that had the whole place shivering with jeers. “Gold. Fahk you, you cretins.” With that she leapt out into the void, swung her right arm into a stubby ‘V’ and THWHUMPED the point of her elbow between Emily’s breasts courtesy of a Randy Savage Elbow Drop that had a whole legion of former Corps going ‘Ohhhhhhhhh Nooooooo!’
DIVING ELBOW DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WcwOjjYtQU
The point of her dagger sent home deep between the cleavage of the Queen, Sanders bounced to a stop and scrambled for Emily’s far leg. She rolls up the Amazing Academic into a tight ball, West’s shoulders planted on the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
And the champion kicked her way free, flopping to one side. Kylie took a moment to cast a threatening glance at the official, but knowing she’d come up a full second short, she used the look to plant a seed for next time rather than as a complaint about this one. Instead, she snatched a handful of long dark locks and pulled a wobbly West to her feet as she rose.
“Never,” Ky shouted then paintbrushed the taste out of Emily’s mouth, West’s head flying to the side, “…EVER steal my Farm Hand.”
When the champ’s head returned in the elfin blonde’s direction a balled fist joined it, but Kylie blocked the effort with a raised left arm and returned in spades. Sanders peppered Emily’s jaw and chin with a series of jabs that put West’s head on a spring until Kylie gave a kiss to her fist in front of a teetering Emily and delivered a right cross that decked her longtime rival.
Kylie blew off her fist like it’s the barrel of a smoking gun. She leapt into the air above the splayed brunette and Mushroom Stomped both of Emily’s gurls before rubbing the tread of her shoe leather into the thin sheath of material covering the champ’s chest. With scornful disdain, the Hawkeye stepped off FAWN’s World Champion and circled her like a diminutive flaxen-haired shark.
Ky motioned a wincing Emily to get up.
“So in your foolproof plan, was I supposed to be down where you are now?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it,” West responded in a series of grunts, “but you don’t have the intellect to understand any of my plans.”
“Uh huh,” Kylie retorted before stomping Emily’s left set of ribs and plucking both ankles off the deck.
“Well, this one does have me stumped.”
The Hawkeye lifted and spread Emily’s stems wide. She called out to the crowd.
You want it?”
Crickets chirped in response.
“Really? Even when you gave a damn, you wanted all of them to do it to me.”
Noticing squirming from the Queen that nearly freed her, the challenger returned her attention from the former Corps to West and delivered on her threat, STOMPING Emily’s center in vicious fashion. And there’s no IQ on heaven or earth that could save Emily from a blinding wave of pain that pulsed through her body.
As the maven of Miskatonic U’s hands flew to her nether region, Kylie stepped over the loosened limbs of her foe and started slowly backpedaling while curling up Emily’s body in a manner it was never designed to go. Only once Kylie’s backside was nearly touching West’s shoulderblades did Sanders settle with her Boston Crab.
“Now we wait,” Ky snarled from between clenched teeth, “to find out when you get smart enough to realize you don’t want any more.”
Emily couldn’t contain a soft mewl from escaping her lips, but likewise she didn’t stop from digging her claws into the canvas and working her way, if slowly, toward the ropes. Slipping a palm around the bottom cable, Emily didn’t give Kylie the satisfaction of asking for a break, grinding her pearlies as the referee did it for her. Not surprisingly, Sanders held on for another ’FOUR!’ before throwing Emily’s legs away, the Black Queen’s back unrolling, Em reflexively sighing in relief.
As Emily slowly tugged her way up to a kneeling position with the help of the strands, Kylie was more than a little impatient. Unable to contain herself as West seemed to milk her embrace of the rubber-coated steel, Kylie charged in and got a fist buried into her navel for the mistake. A wheeling Emily drove the balled fingers in, doubling a bug-eyed Kylie. But Ky responded in kind, sending a knee crashing into West’s left temple.
The Amazing Academic’s counterattack ended nearly before it began, Kylie next sank her fingers into Emily’s scalp and dragged her in a floundering kneel-walk to the nearest corner. The elfin blonde forced West’s arms over the middle ropes on either side of the corner then STUFFED the champ’s braincase under the middle buckle. With Emily’s body and legs extended toward center stage, the uncrowned Lightweight and Intercontinental champion strolled toward the opposite corner.
Turning, Kylie lifted an arm high, drawing a chorus of jeers from the former members of the Corps. Paying them no mind, the target in front of her VERY distracting, Sanders raced toward the wedged Brainiac. As she drew close, Kylie launched, her boots leading the way. They connected harshly with Emily’s derriere and the buxom brunette’s head and neck were JAMMED into the corner with enough force behind the Pleasant Valley Ass Kicking to send West tumbling out of her predicament and end in a facedown sprawl, cradling the back of her head while muttering some curses that might not be found in Webster’s.
Noticing the Black Queen’s positioning, Kylie didn’t turn the champ over for a pin. Instead, she climbed aboard in a squatting reverse straddle of Em’s waistline. Lifting a set of curled fingers high, some in the crowd forgot they’re no longer supposed to respond and an admittedly weak “FARM HAND” bleated through the assembled.
As Kylie’s digits descended toward the juncture of Emily’s gluteus and left hammy, the brunette’s lower leg swung up on the hinge of her knee. The heel of West’s boot THUMPED into Kylie’s lower abdomen ONE…TWO…THREE TIMES until Sanders was leaning backwards to take some of the sting from the hammer blows.
This brought her arms within range of an arching Emily who managed to lock elbows with those of her challenger and send the blonde back-somersaulting until Kylie was stacked on her shoulders, Emily rising to all fours to keep her that way for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The Hawkeye barely escaped the ingenious audibled Backslide by tumbling the rest of the way over and ending on her knees. A startled Kylie laced her fingers into a Double Axhandle to pound the back of West’s skull, but before she could, Emily improvised a Headbutt by charging like the world’s best looking bull, gutting Kylie’s already knotted tummy with the crown of her head.
With a deep loud grunt, Ky ended on her haunches, hugging her midriff, sucking air. In front of her, Emily rose to a full kneel and there champ and challenger remained for several long seconds, neither seemingly with the reserves to attack the other, that was until Emily swung an underhand claw into Kylie’s crotch. The southerly route immediately hit paydirt when the Queen clenched and sent an electric shock of anguish tensing every muscle of the elfin blonde, a mousy squeak emerging from the quickly moist-eyed Hawkeye.
“I know this is cheap, tawdry even.” West jostled her wrist and flexed her fingers, the minute adjustments more than enough to remind Kylie that her otherwise sturdy togs were no match for the World Champion’s grip. “It appeals only to the basest instincts of the lowest common denominator, and yet…” she reached out with her free hand and grabbed Sanders by the throat, not to strangle, but to force searing eye contact as she dominated the challenger in intimate fashion…”it’s still infinitely better treatment than you actually deservVERRRGGGGHHHH!”
Kylie latched both hands to Emily’s breasts and gave them a retaliatory squeeze before narrowing her focus to the brunette’s nipples. Twisting her wrists in opposite directions stopped Em’s mouth real quick, so Ky took the opportunity to retort. “You of all people have the gall to lecture me on who deserves what?” She sucked in a deep breath as Emily shifted her thumb’s angle of attack. “For years you told them that the Corps were using me up. That they’d shorten my career by a decade. That I wouldn’t know greatness until I kicked them to the curb. And now that I’ve finally done just that…” Sanders tightened her dual vise clamps and started to pull, which elicited a hiss of anguish from her opponent, “You’re siding with London and the Bloodwinds? What the hell is that shyt, EmilYYAAAAAGHH FAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
West abruptly transitioned from clawing to pinching and the burst of pain from down below was enough to loosen the blonde’s hold on her foe’s vaunted rack. Shaking loose of Kylie’s pincers, Emily coiled her free arm around the back of the other woman’s head and drew her into a Front Facelock while still maintaining the vile underhanded attack.
“Listen very closely my friend, because what you are about to hear comes so infrequently most believed it a mere rumor.” Emily hauled the both of ‘em to their feet, then stuffed her head under Kylie’s near arm. It looked for all the world like a standard Vertical Suplex attempt, save for the Insidious Intellectual’s rather non-traditional clamp on her foe’s womanhood. “I wanted to be wrong. I wanted you to succeed where all others had failed. Because FAWN already has its Black Queen. The opposing side though… she’s rather poorly championed, wouldn’t you say?”
Kylie wanted to tell the bloviating beeyotch to stuff it, but West’s control over her undercarriage was so complete that it paralyzed her whole frame. As such she offered no resistance when Emily dipped her knees and hoisted the hobbled blonde all the way to high noon. The Brain Trust and a great deal of the displaced Corps called for a Hemorrhage, but Emily wasn’t quite through showing Kylie the error of her ways, which was why she stomped to the edge of the ring and tossed her down gut-first on the top rope. Sanders hit with a meaty ‘TWANG!’ then bounced free and landed on her back with a dull, sweaty thud.
Emily allowed her a few seconds to tend to the fires between her thighs before she reached down and grabbed a huge handful of blonde locks. “Up, Ky. I said UP!” she YANKED on Sanders’s hair and the challenger jerked to one knee, her hands flying to Emily’s encroaching talon. Still holding her foe’s hair, West positioned herself off Kylie’s left side and murmured, “It’s time you finally learned the depth of my distaste for those who would upend the game board. And to answer the Corps about abandoning your post.”
“Ohhh you sanctimonious bytch, I am going the nose off your face, I swear to UUUUNNNNGGGGHH!”
Emily brought her right knee up and slammed it into the small of Sanders’ back. Kylie arched forward which made it all the easier for West to THWHUMP her left knee into the pit of opposing stomach. Doubled over by the force of it, the Iowan didn’t recognize the trap until Emily swung her right knee up and around to catch her just above the curve of her glutes. And so it went, Kylie rooted to the spot as the pistons of Emily’s knees put hard miles on her back and belly.
A full baker’s dozen finally unhinged Sanders’s knees and she went to all fours. What might’ve been a mercy in other circumstances turned into something else all together because West dropped with her, the Sensual Scholar making sure her left knee ended up stuffed beneath Ky’s tummy. Pressing one hand to the back of Sanders’s neck and the other to her tenderized spine, Emily looked out at the crowd and called, “It pains me to have to ask, but the question must be answered. Tell me Corps, NICE… or NAUGHTY?”
‘NAUGHTY!’ returned to her a thousand-fold, though Emily noted their collective voice was tinged with obvious regret. Nonetheless, a verdict was a verdict and Christmas needed Krampus just as much as it needed Santa. So Emily raised her right hand, flattened it into a paddle and brought it CRAAACKING down on Sanders’s cheeks. Kylie snarled and tried to struggle clear, but she was short of breath and West made it even worse by driving an elbow into the small of her back. That proved an effective pacifier so Emily returned to her spanking, which apparently included one blow for every shopping day since Thanksgiving plus another dozen to grow on. By the time she finished the exposed crescents of Ky’s buns were an angry sunburned pink that’d surely deepen to red before the night was over.
Shaking the tingle out of her spankin’ hand, Emily pulled Kylie’s head up with the other and leaned down so she could whisper in her ear. “Ours is a very simple story, Kylie. You are the hero. I am the villain. You would do well to remember that.” Message delivered, she grabbed Ky at shoulder and hip and tossed her from her knee like so much blonde garbage.
Seething with an anger she hadn’t felt since Krystal let her down against Krazy Shea, Sanders rolled all the way to the other side of the ring before she pushed to her knees. “You… I… hate… you. I fucking hate you.”
Emily shook her head sadly. “And therein lies our primary difference. I don’t hate you, Kylie. Never have. But somehow you always find a way to disappoint me.”
Sanders got to her feet, making a conscious effort not to tend to her stinging backside. “I love disappointing you, Emily. Someone has to. And taking the World Title… that’ll be the biggest disappointment of all.” She stormed to the middle of the squared circle and spread her arms wide. “Now get your ass out here and FIGHT ME!”
Emily obliged her and raised both fists to shoulder level when she saw Sanders do the same. Too angry to wait for West to close the gap herself, the Heartland Horror darted forward and ‘PWAAAKED!’ her rival’s cheek with a jab. Emily ‘uunnnggghed’ and fired off a shot of her own, the brunette’s knuckles finding blonde jaw with pinpoint accuracy. One blow from each side was more than enough to trigger a full scale firefight, one that saw both ladies clouting their enemy around the head and shoulders with closed fists, heedless of Castle’s repeated calls to ‘Open ‘em up, ladies!’
The FAWNatics, not quite able to wrap their heads around this rabbit hole they’d fallen into, found themselves roaring ‘BOO!’ whenever Kylie landed a punch and ‘YAY!’ whenever Emily swiveled her head in return. This two part chorus remained quite consistent until Emily dipped the challenger’s latest effort and retaliated with a half dozen Forearm Smashes to the chest.
Her latest fusillade stacked Kylie against the ropes and allowed the champ to lay claim to a wrist. Stepping back, she dropped her shoulders and started into an Irish Whip only to have Sanders reverse and send her to the ropes instead. Nonplussed, Emily bounced off the strands and came back with a Clothesline, which Kylie ducked en route to the same ropes Emily had just cleared.
Eyes locked as they charged from opposite sides of the ring, West and Sanders sprang the same trap at the same time, which meant trouble for both. Catching a huge double fistful of hair as they pounced, blonde and brunette swung through a violent midair circle and pulled the other face head-first into the mat, stereo Facebusters that left the crowd groaning in sympathy and both ladies flat on their backs in glassy-eyed sprawls.
As the women gave their head a shake, trying to slip their senses back into place, the FAWNatics pieced together perhaps the most unexpected chant in the organization’s history as ‘EM-UHH-LEE!’ slowly built to a crescendo.
Blonde and brunette responded in kind, each struggling to their feet. They moved simultaneously but while Emily approached Kylie with fist drawn, Sanders backpedaled into the ropes behind her. She burst out of the rubber-coated steel and slid on her knees back to the onrushing Emily, NAILING the Brainiac with a Sliding Gut Punch.
SLIDING GUT PUNCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEHvYvaEfgE
The meaty ‘smeck’ of fist to tummy reverberated and a grunting West doubled from the impact while Ky slid to a stop, having also stopped the first ever chant of West’s name. Sanders hopped to her feet and spun to a likewise turning Emily. She raced at the grimacing brunette and SPEARED the holy academia out of the buxom Black Queen, Emily folding around Ky’s deep, digging shoulder before being PLANTED into the canvas.
As West spread out in a splattered starfish next to the elfin blonde, the Hawkeye hooked both legs and folded FAWN’s summa cum laude into a matchbook for the glorious…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
West spasmed and popped free with a split-second to spare, rolling to her side as a disconsolate Kylie turned to the official.
“I’m the World Champion,” Ky insisted, a groundbreaking, earth-shattering, eleven and a half year-in-the-making event, but the zebra begged to differ. Sanders slapped the mat in frustration then added one to Emily’s gulping tummy.
Kylie gathered up West’s head in her hands and yanked the sweetly silent Em to her feet. The blonde tucked Emily’s noggin in a tight Side Headlock. “It’s my favorite of our time together when I get to show you how simple the world can be.”
Kylie surged toward the nearest buckle with the Amazing Academic in tow. The Hawkeye sprinted up the corner ropes and pushed off in a u-turn, ending with her sitting out and West’s forehead SLAMMING into the thinly-covered plywood. The impact of the Springboard Bulldog sent Emily barrel rolling to her back in a spreadeagle and Kylie covered posthaste, again hooking both legs for….
SPRINGBOARD BULLDOG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikPWDJ9tc44
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOO!
Emily denied the would-be number one by the slimmest of margins. Kylie rose to a kneel, running her hands through near shoulder-length hair. She shook her head and one word escaped her cupid’s-arrow lips.
“What?”
The question remained unspecified as Sanders moved to her feet and dragged an increasingly rubbery West on hands and knees with her. She led the battered champion to a corner and gave up her grip on Em’s long dark locks instead collecting her foe’s wrists as she moved behind West, Emily deprived of two of her all fours.
With the well-filled head of the Amazing Academic poised over the bottom buckle, Kylie placed a boot behind the Brainiac’s noggin.
“Let’s see if we can Drain the idea you’re some kind of genius right out of you.”
The challenger brutally curbstomped West’s head into the buckle in a violent homage to West’s Brain Drain.
BRAIN DRAIN @ 2:39
www.youtube.com/watch?v=05XDcBiPxmo
A delighted Kylie reveled in the boos, the crowd not happy with HER gimmick infringement. But Sanders wasn’t nearly done. She dragged the ragdolled Emily to her feet and scooped the buxom Queen off them, placing her in a seated position on the top buckle.
Kylie turned her back to the brunette and reached behind her to grasp the Black Queen’s arms. Using her renowned reserves, Ky ripped Emily off her perch, sending her front-flipping overhead to a CRASH landing with an Iconoclasm.
ICONOCLASM @ 00:17
www.youtube.com/watch?v=REPirgrbLC0
Demolished, Emily slid to a stop, limbs pointing to each direction on the compass. Kylie wipes her hands in satisfaction as she rose, but instead of going for the pin a third time, she collected Emily by the wrists and pulled her to just the right spot. The blonde moved to the corner and climbed up.
Taught by the best, namely Shea London, Sanders would still never be known as a top high flyer, but the turncoat could pull a maneuver out of her bag of tricks on occasion and, as she stared out into the crowd, the fans silenced until Ky gave them a certain international salute, Sanders back flipped into the air in fine form, Moonsaulting toward Emily’s open midriff.
Unfortunately for…well no one but Kylie it seemed, West pulled up her knees. Balling to offer the bony joints as a landing, Emily gutted the plummeting Hawkeye. Kylie rolled away hugging her belly and violently gagging. As the blonde suffered nearby, Emily struggled to a seat and wearily but, clearly satisfied, tapped her temple. Much of the crowd aped her in response.
The Black Queen rose, striding slowly but confidently to the retching blonde. Snatching a handful of flaxen locks, she tugged Sanders to her feet.
“A smarter woman than you would get the message. You have no idea what it takes to be a champion or what it means to be a leader. But if I have to give you refresher courses on that subject it’s not totally unsatisfying.”
In the blink of an eye, Kylie exploded into action, dipping while throwing an arm between Emily’s thighs to pop the buxom brunette onto her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry, ready to Pleasant Valley Drive Emily into incoherence and gain the big prize.
But as she flipped West off her shoulders the Insidious Intellectual added a little impetus behind Ky’s effort and she made a very important further quarter-turn, landing on her feet and out of Sanders’ grasp as Kylie sat out next to her.
Spinning into a dead run at the seated blonde, Emily delivered a vicious Soccer Kick to Kylie’s temple to make the a harrowing escape a flabbergasting reversal, the reverberating sound of boot to braincase drawing a loud ‘oooooh’ from the crowd.
SOCCER KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aBfHfW9uzo
Emily didn’t hover over the glassy-eyed blonde for long, instead dragging a numbed Kylie up by her head. In direct response to Sanders stealing her Brain Drain, Emily ‘hupped’ the ‘wet noodle’ of Kylie’s body onto her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. The FAWNatics screamed for the Driver. Emily had something different in mind though, instead tossing Kylie off in front of her. And as Kylie plummeted, Emily dropped to her back and ‘stabbed’ Sanders in the breadbasket with a Double Knee Gutbuster, sending Kylie’s already broken abdomen into fits as she rolled to her back, eviscerated.
DOUBLE KNEE GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFppvkJOlsg
Emily sat up, raked a hand through her hair and looked over at the challenger, who’d dlopped over onto her side in the wake of the brutal stomach pumping. She opened her mouth, then closed it, apparently thinking better of it. Instead she got to her feet and walked an angry circle around her crippled adversary. The Black Queen seemed on the verge of addressing Sanders on more than one occasion, but West didn’t actually speak until she dropped to one knee and forced it into the side of Kylie’s neck. Twining her fingers through the blonde’s sweat-soaked hair, she yanked up, putting a noticeable kink in the other woman’s throat.
“Hear my words and hear them well old friend, because I make this offer only once. Swear off this campaign of mindless violence and join the Court. With our assistance you can rebuild the Corps even better than before… you will achieve everything you ever wanted… and you will finally BE the woman you always wanted to be. But if you refuse,” Emily sighed heavily, as if the alternative pained her a great deal, “if you refuse me I can make these people forget the last four months in less than four minutes. You’ll go back to being a puling loser, only now you’ll be a puling loser with no support network. Answer me now, Kylie Sanders. Bend the knee to me only once and I’ll give you the world.”
Kylie tried to out from under the champ’s knee but Emily only bore down and jerked on the hair hold that much harder. Following a few deep, ragged breaths, she growled, “How many times… do I have to tell you to kiss my ass… before you’ll start listenNOOOOOOWWWWW BYTCH!”
Emily YANKED a tuft of blonde hair loose and tossed it aside without so much as a blink. This was followed by a swift, short knee to the back of Sanders’s skull. Lights dimmed by the brutal blow, Kylie could barely focus on standing up when Emily bade she do so, let alone stop the brunette from drawing her into a Front Facelock. With Sanders’s head tucked under left arm, West slung the challenger’s left arm across the back of her neck and finished preparing by snatching a handful of tights. The crowd knew the time was right for a Hemorrhage and though they had serious reservations about cheering the Amazing Academic, they waited patiently for her to tap her temple and were more than a little surprised when Ems simply hoisted Kylie to high noon.
Seconds ticked off the clock and the FAWNatics tolled them without missing a beat. ‘THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN… EIGHT… NINE… TEN… ELEVEN… TWELVE… THIRTEEN… FOURTEEN… FIFTEEN… SIXTEEN… SEVENTEEN… EIGHTEEN… NINETEEN…’
Emily kicked her right leg up in a kick worthy of the Rockettes and laid out on her back to THWHUNK the crown of her foe’s skull into the canvas courtesy of the fed’s most dangerous Brainbuster. The Heartland Horror jolted like she’d touched a live wire and would’ve almost certainly sat up in the wake of head trauma if only Emily had released the Facelock.
CEREBERAL HEMORRHAGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=L53TPig5wAM
But Emily had not released the Facelock. Indeed, the Sensual Scholar held on just as tightly, meaning Ky had no choice but to follow along when her attacker rolled onto her stomach and clambered to her feet. Set in much the same position she’d occupied a mere twenty or so seconds prior, Emily shook her head sadly and murmured, “I warned you this would happen. How often do I have to be right before you’ll start to listen?” Then she dropped her hips and muscled the knock-kneed blonde into place for her second Hemorrhage in as many NO!
West shifted her grips when Sanders reached two o’clock and suddenly the disgraced leader of the Corps was draped across her nemesis’s shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. If the FAWNatics had shown some hesitation in cheering the Hemorrhage, they showed absolutely none in blowing the roof off when Emily pushed up and dropped out on her left side to THAWHUNK the back of Sanders’s head and shoulders into the mat with a Pleasant Valley Driver. Emily floated over into a Lateral Press but rather than go for it she swung around into a full on straddle and slid forward until her crotch was pressed snugly against Kylie’s upturned face. Knees splayed wide, hands planted flat, Emily flipped hair out of her face and stared dead at the hard camera while she put an end to the nastiest temper tantrum in recent FAWN memory…
PLEASANT VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkxfVzRABbE
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounded and her music started to roll, but the victrix made no move until the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall and STILL the FAWN World Champion… EMILY WEST!”
More than a little displeased despite the favorable outcome, Emily got to her feet and allowed Nick to raise her hand, albeit only for a moment. Pulling away as soon as the formalities were properly observed, she stalked back to Sanders and dropped to one knee. Genuinely baffled for the first time in a very long while, West slipped a hand under Ky’s head and lifted it off the mat for closer observation. “What do I have to do to get through to you? I won’t cripple you. I won’t fuck you. And I certainly won’t store audio visual equipment within you. Yet you refuse to see reason, so the lessons continue. And I’m afraid they will grow all the harsher until you finally absorb the knowledge I am trying so desperately to impart.”
Ominously silent, Emily grabbed hold of Sanders’s top between the cups and yanked it free with a few quick tugs. While it would’ve made an excellent addition to her trophy case, the Black Queen had something different in mind for this particular garment. Holding it stretched taut, Emily pulled the white fabric into Ky’s mouth like a bridle, then tied it snug against the back of her head, effectively gagging the insensate beauty. Almost done, Emily sidled around to sit in the blonde’s lap and took Sanders’s head in her hands. “I told Shea the same thing I’m telling you.” she whispered. “Don’t even THINK about speaking my name until you’re ready to play the game again. Because if you come at me trying to upend the board a second time… I will end you, old friend. It will hurt me to do so, but it won’t stop me. Not for a second.”
With that class was dismissed and Emily set her pupil aside like just another book to be shelved and forgotten. Castle approached with the belt shortly thereafter and Emily took it from him, but not before she’d patted Kylie’s slumbering tummy. “Learn from this, Ky.” the Insidious Intellectual said when she’d regained her footing. “For those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Finished with one student, she turned to rest of her cheering class. “The woman in the ring with me… the woman bound and helpless at my feet… I consider her a friend. If I would do that to a friend, imagine what I might do to someone I held in less regard. Remember that before you would send another of your so called heroines against me.”
Patting the golden faceplate possessively, she draped the belt over one shoulder and made her way out of the ring, leaving the battered form of Kylie Sanders as a present for all those she’d spurned since Summer Swelter.
“Sixty seconds…Kylie,” a man shouted.
The elfin blonde responded with nothing more than a grunt and moved to her jumping off point.
The flunky offered Sanders a possibly sincere “Good luck” and received a scowl in response.
“Keep it to yourself, doofus. Or give it to Emily.”
Sanders fluffed her flaxen locks, the strands growing longer than they’d been in a long while.
“Let’s go, damn it.”
The sound of The Clash started to fill the arena, namely a song from a certain album by the name of ‘London Calling’, and with it an absolute torrent of jeers that now rivaled Lisa Dream or even Portia VanBuren.
The Hawkeye pushes through and claimed a spot center stage. She hopped in place, ruby lips twisted in a smirk, rolling her shoulders and throwing a few shadow punches.
The FAWNactics soaked in the new look Kylie and ‘WOW’ seemed to be the collective word. Gone were the black lycra sports bra and boy-cut trunks, the Tigerhawk of her alma mater nowhere to be seen. Instead, she wore the garb from her recent Gladiatrix cover shoot, white lace bra top and similarly fashioned and brief lower togs with white boots and pads. Apparently bad girls could wear white.
Kylie started her trip down the ramp as The Clash continued…
“So alone I keep the wolves at bay…
And there’s only one thing I can say..ayy…ayy…
You didn’t stand by me…
No not at all…
You didn’t stand by me…
No way”
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYkQK8QsQ2w&index=3&list=LLU6MWpP-rt2kWv-tOm824HA
Energized by the hate, Ky ignored the reaching hands and oft-thrown jeers and insults, the pathetic pleas for her to come back to her senses finally and thankfully gone. Reaching the ring and rising up the steps, Kylie turned and took a view of the packed bowl, seemingly every seat occupied by the vapid fans that had jumped off the bandwagon. Kylie walked down the length of the apron and accepted a microphone from a flunky. While she did, the Announcer finally made her arrival official.
“Ladies and gentlemen it is time for our Main Event! The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a sixty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN World Championship! Introducing first, she is the challenger, hailing from Pleasant Valley, Iowa, she stands ative five feet four inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and fifteen pounds, this is…KYLIE SANDERS!”
The crowd only doubled its enmity and volume. Sanders slipped through the ropes and claimed the center of the ring. She lifted the microphone to pink, pastel lips.
“As you all know, I AM the uncrowned Lightweight and Intercontinental champion, having only lost to Nyssa Bloodwind because of a jealous referee and an illegal disqualification and having beaten Juliet Bloodwind to putty in a non-title affair.”
The crowd unloaded with their hate from every direction and Sanders promptly responded with a small knowing grin.
“And tonight, I top it off with my crowning achievement. To take the World Title back for the people, well, one person. Me. No longer do I have to carry the unrelenting burden of all your pathetic hopes and dreams. You losers made me one. Guess what…no longer.”
A chant erupted from the crowd that turns Kylie’s face sour. “TROLL… TROLL… TROLL!”
“Shut the hell up before I go out there and slap each and every last one of you.”
No use, the blonde was forced to continue with the fans providing their claim in the background.
“While the careers of the Bloodwinds temporarily survive by the skin of their teeth, I plan on permanently solving many of FAWN’s problems tonight by eliminating the head of the snake that is the Black Court. Without Emily, the rest of that pathetic creature will wither and die, leaving room enough for the most glorious titleholder in FAWN’s long and storied history…me…to flower. All eyes should be on me and will be on me. I’ve earned it. So Emily, you and your tired hired guns…”
Kylie seemed more than ready to continue her soliloquy well into the night, but she’s interrupted by a spit of static that portended the arrival of the woman from whom she would relieve FAWN’s top prize.
HANDLEBARS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=waRtcBy_GMI
When the static came the lights left, albeit not for long. Accompanied by the plinking introduction to ’Handlebars’, a bank of spotlights illuminated the squared circle, transforming it into an eight by eight grid of black and white squares, the only chessboard worthy of the architect of FAWN’s grand design. When Jonny 5 reminded everyone he could ‘keep rhythm with no metronome, no metronome’ Emily West stepped through the curtain.
EMILY WEST:
Pretty features remarkably solemn in the gloom, Emily stepped forward, reached to the small of her back and undid the clasp holding the World Title in place. This she raised overhead, a direct answer to the woman who thought she could take what was hers. The belt was still hoisted when the Announcer went on, “And introducing her opponent, representing the Black Court hailing from Dunwich Massachusetts, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in tonight at one-hundred and twenty-two pounds. She is the One Hundredth Percentile, the Black Queen and the reigning and defending FAWN World Champion… EMILY WEST!”
For her latest battle with her first and arguably greatest FAWN rival, Emily wore a gleaming black corset with half a dozen tiny silver buttons that started just below her sternum and ended just above her navel. Below, the corset flowed seamlessly into a matching black skirt edged in delicate white lace. Traveling yet farther south (across perhaps three inches of exquisitely toned thigh) West’s strong legs were armored in black nylon stockings topped by more lace (albeit in black) and shiny black wrestling boots that reached to just below the knee. Her big match look was accessorized with flat black pads at elbow and knee and a completed by a wide choker done in black velvet. From this choker hung a small onyx pendant carved into the shape of Emily’s favorite chess piece.
Oddly disinterested in what the crowd had to say on this night, Emily started down the aisle and would’ve blown by each and every one of them if she hadn’t saw a sign with a picture of Kylie that read:
THIS IS YOUR MESS, EM. CLEAN IT UP.
Emily paused, looked the woman holding the message dead in the eye and murmured, “That is EXACTLY what I intend to do, madam.” Looking to the squared circle with a renewed sense of purpose, the Sensual Scholar made her way to the steps, ascended them, then paused at the top while the canvas regained its usual appearance. Gliding between the ropes when everything was just so, West crossed the ring and mounted the far turnbuckles to better look out on all the pieces of her game board. After a moment she raised the title and tapped the faceplate three times.
I’m. So. Smart.
For once the pawns didn’t seem to disagree, a development which brought the tiniest smile to Emily’s lips. Hopping down from the buckles, she handed the belt to Senior Referee Nick Castle and offered her wrists, ankles, elbows and knees for a quick inspection. “There is a lesson that needs to be taught tonight, Nicholas.” she said once he was done. “I would consider it a favor if you let me teach it how I see fit.”
“Keep it within the rules and you can teach her for a full sixty minutes for all I care. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The bell sounded and the crowd roared all the louder, though theirs was not the sound of a throng eager to see a heroine triumph. Rather it was the incensed shriek of a betrayed friend hoping to see she who had wronged them receive a long overdue comeuppance. Dismissing it as so much sound and fury, Kylie Sanders stomped out to the center of the squared circle and claimed it as her very own because who the hell was going to stop her?
“Game time’s over, Emily. Now that I’ve exposed those two shytbirds for the frauds they are, it’s time the uncrowned Lightweight Champion and the uncrowned Intercontinental Champion became the crowned World Champion.” She paused to smile, her hazel eyes gleaming wickedly. “That I get to take it off your pompous, overrated, OVERPROTECTED ass is just icing.”
Emily had remained remarkably stoic throughout the challenger’s tirade, but the culmination of her old foe’s threats brought a wide grin to her face. Pushing off the buckles, she angled left and started to circle, forcing Kylie to turn with her. “While I am sure we are both eager for this reckoning, allow me a moment to recap the events that brought us to this precise moment.”
Ky raised her hands and curled them into claws, but she made no move to advance, not yet anyway. She’d let West burn through all her pretty words, then she’d cram them down the obnoxious bytch’s throat.
Seeing that Sanders wouldn’t interrupt, Emily went on. “Over the course of the last year you have been a part of two tag teams, one which ended when you allowed your partner to get injured and another which became a far more successful tandem the moment you were jettisoned. In singles competition you have been crushed by every visible member of my Court save for Lenore, and we all know what happens when the two of you share a ring. Those losses aside, you were defeated by yet ANOTHER former tag partner and made to surrender by your replacement shortly thereafter. Finally crushed by the weight of all these failures, you--”
Kylie pounced without saying a word, her right fist balled and swinging for the fences of Emily’s chin with a brutal Haymaker. What might’ve been a pace-setting shot whiffed into nothingness when West went low and threaded her ankles between Sanders’s lead foot. A single twitch from the champion put her challenger on the mat, Kylie’s chin thumping unpleasantly against the thinly-sheathed plywood.
Spinning clear of the Drop Toe Hold without missing a beat, West stood up and resumed her recitation. “As I was saying, the accumulated pressure of nearly nine months of failure finally proved too much for even your storied ego and with one savage act you dismissed the only group of people who never abandoned you, failure or otherwise.”
Up and circling again, Sanders stopped and actually gaped at the brunette. “YOU are giving me shit about getting rid of those oxygen wasters? They held me back for years! They kept me addicted to failure! They--”
“Were the only reason you ever beat me in that cage.” Emily said softly.
Kylie raked a hand through her hair, the other was pressed against her thigh in a white-knuckled fist. “You always did talk too much, West.”
The Amazing Academic took a step back, but kept the toes of one boot pressed to the canvas in front of her. Drawing a line between them, she added, “Don’t like my mouth, farm girl? Shut it.”
That was all the invitation Sanders needed and she came on like an Iowa thunderstorm, swift and merciless. Wading into West for the clinch, she didn’t bother with a traditional Collar & Elbow, choosing instead to go straight for the brunette’s hair. Emily hissed in pain but didn’t call to Castle, rather she hooked her fingers into Kylie’s blonde tousle and pulled for all she was worth. Foreheads grinding, noses brushing, the pair of longtime rivals staggered around the ring, skidding off the ropes and caroming off buckles all while the ref tried to break them up and the crowd urged them on.
Finally Kylie worked the Black Queen into a set of buckles and tummied up on her, forcing Emily to carry every bit of her hundred and fifteen pounds while simultaneously trying to rip out fistfuls of dark hair. “I should’ve ended you in that cage,” Sanders hissed to the wincing battler, “but I let you escape like a cockroach scurrying away when someone turns on the light. Not tonight, Emily. Tonight I show these people why I’m the next World Champ AND FAWN’s true Black Qu--”
Castle shouldered his way into the fray and wedged the wrestlers apart, a task no one envied. “I’m only going to say this once!” he barked. “This is not No DQ and it’s not Penthouse Rules either! You’re going to follow my commands or I’ll end this right now, are we clear?”
Emily smoothed back her stinging hair, then nodded. “Of course, Nicholas. Kylie and I were just reminiscing about old times.”
Sanders huffed in disgust. “You pretentious little twit, could you just shut up and fi--”
Emily snaked around the shield of the official to CRAAACK Ky’s cheek with a dismissive Bytch Slap. Maddened by the rebuke, Kylie grabbed the ref by the shoulders, shoved him out of the way and lunged for West only to find herself skewered on the point of her foe’s boot. Helping herself to another double fistful of Kylie’s flaxen locks, Em reared back and BWUUUNGED opposing noggin into the top buckle once, twice, thrice. Sanders started to wobble after that, so Em dropped to one knee, which forced her blonde to do the same. From there she BWUUUNGED Kylie’s forehead against the middle buckle three more times.
Stunned by the repeated blows, the Heartland Horror grabbed hold of the second rope to keep from giving any more ground, but Emily wouldn’t be denied and with a little rough maneuvering she forced Sanders down onto her tummy. Pressing Kylie’s face against the bottom buckle, West leaned in very close and whispered, “Same old Kylie. Lost to one Bloodwind on a disqualification, couldn’t beat the other when it counted and yet here you are contending for a world title. If nothing else you will go down in history as FAWN’s most spectacular example of upward failure.”
The Insidious Intellectual yanked Kylie’s head back, then BWUUUNGED it against the bottom buckle and scrubbed her features back n’ forth until Castle reached ‘FOUR!’ on a slightly accelerated count. Raising her hands to illustrate compliance, Emily stood up and took a step back only to bend over and SPANK a single swat against blonde glutes.
Kylie barely registered the sting from the slap, but the delighted cry from the crowd rang quite loud in her pulsing skull. Clambering to her knees, she took a moment to wipe her face, then stood up and turned around. “I may not have any use for those career-killing assholes anymore,” she told Emily, “but just this once I’m going to give them something they always wanted. I’m going to beat you to within an inch of your goddamned life.”
Emily offered her a smile utterly devoid of humor. “And just this once I will take control of the Corps, if only so they know what it means to have a leader who won’t abandon them.”
Kylie sucked in a hateful hiss, choked it down, then raised her right hand to the rafters. Emily had no qualms about a Test of Strength, she was however, a stickler for making sure things went through the proper channels. “Must I remind you that while you were having the worst year of your professional life I assumed leadership of the FAWN locker room and guided it through a period of stability it hasn’t seen in a decade? So if you want ANYTHING from me, Kylie Sanders… you’re going to ask for it on bended knee.”
With that she backed up to the center of the ring, where she promptly lifted her left hand overhead.
“I’m sorry,” Sanders said while lacing her fingers with those of West. “I don’t ask for anything anymore.” Kylie raised her opposite hand and cinched her fingers tight with Emily’s when they interlocked. “Particularly from people….” The blonde tensed as did her counterpart, little biceps pulsing. “…who’ve made a career out of taking credit…” Kylie huffed out a breath between words, starting to roll her wrists over the buxom brunette’s. “…for what other people…” a determined grin emerged on the elfin blonde as she pushed down. “…have…”
A grunt followed the word as her progress ground to a halt, smile turning to pursed lips then gritting teeth emerged. With the crowd hesitant to chant Emily’s name but doing so nonetheless, West forced up to even. Kylie shook her head in frustration and disbelief. And when Emily rolled her wrists over and Kylie started to descend, the FAWNatics showed no compunction regarding their support.
“I believe the word you were looking for…” West growled as Kylie lowered before her, desperation growing in Sanders’ visage. “ is…done”. And with the word released from her lips, Sanders indeed genuflected before the World Champion, the crowd eating up the inability for Kylie to rise despite her fruitless best efforts.
“Ask,” West said. “And ask nicely.”
Pl…pl…please,” Sanders stammered, gulping hard. “Please may I…KICK YOUR ASS.”
Kylie threw her weight backward, ending on the mat on a curled spine, her right boot placed on Emily’s pelvis. The Hawkeye used the laced fingers to pull a startled Emily toward her and flipped the brunette over her head. Handgrips broken, West landed on her pear-shaped derriere. Though Ky couldn’t see it, West winced noticeably, but she scrambled to her feet only a tick behind Kylie.
It’s enough for Sanders to secure a tight Side Headlock on the champion. Ky wrenched on West’s head and neck.
“Where’s the Court tonight? Have to have them on speed dial,” Kylie grunted. “Just surprised they didn’t come out with you.”
“Gave’em the night off,” Emily huffed as her hands came up to Sanders’ hips. “We both know I don’t need them for you.”
West shoved Kylie off and the Hawkeye used the supplied momentum to race to the ropes and rebound, ready to Spear the holy hell out of Emily on her return. But when Ky made the u-turn, her hazel eyes bugged wide, as the brunette was upon her, DRIVING a knee into Kylie’s midriff, doubling over the gasping blonde.
Emily took a wrist and quickly sent Sanders on her way for another run to the ropes. This time she allowed Kylie some lead time. The Hawkeye got several steps out of the strands before meeting up with a sprinting Emily who again used her knee as the weapon of choice, THRUSTING it into Kylie’s gut. A skewered Kylie flipped over the impaling joint and landed hard on her back and curled up the instant she touched down.
Behind her, Emily surged toward the seated Ky from behind. West briskly front flipped over Kylie’s right shoulder, grabbing Sanders’ noggin as she tumbled by. Em SPIKED skull into canvas, forehead meeting mat between Kylie’s extended stems. The Hawkeye’s braincase and upper body snapped back in whiplash-like fashion, Kylie spreading out in a horizontal single-file, cradling the back of her head, boot leather pattering against the canvas.
On the other end of the maneuver, West somersaulted to her feet and, without even looking behind her to see the results, she tapped at her temple, mouthing “TOO SMART”. Perhaps surprisingly, a fair portion of the crowd tapped at their temple and pointed at Emily, something that seemed to put West in good humor.
The busty brunette strode back to Kylie, shaking her head.
“It’s amazing how your capital with the Corps has dried up in less than a Miskatonic semester. A mile wide and an inch deep it seems.”
West reached down to pluck Kylie off the deck by a handful of flaxen locks, but Kylie did some reaching of her own. She tugged West into a forward roll and the Amazing Academic found herself squirming within a Small Package, shoulders planted to the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
Before the champ kept her reign in place with a kick-out. Both women clambered to their feet, the race an even one. But Emily fired first with a Toe Kick to the tummy. Only this time, Ky was ready, snatching the boot around the ankle before it could invade her abdomen. Kylie lifted the right leg high with one arm and tapped her right temple with a forefinger, cupid’s arrow-shaped lips curling into a smile. It’s short-lived mirth as Emily leapt off her planted foot and swung an Enzugiri up and around, CLAPPING into the temple Kylie had just finger-tapped a moment before. The force of the blow sent Kylie staggering drunkenly away, Sanders staying upright only with the help of the ropes, her back leaning heavily into the cables, Ky throwing her arms over the top before she tried to shake her senses back into place.
Alas Emily wasn’t in the mood to let up. She chased after the wayward blonde, yanking her off the ropes then shoving her to the middle. Catching up with Kylie center stage from behind, West captured Sanders’ left arm and folded it into a neat Hammerlock, wrenching hard enough to send a mewling Kylie up to tiptoes. Sanders spouting a chirpy “Bytch”.
With Kylie’s arm tied up, the curvy champ scooped Sanders off the deck from her side and laid out, sending Ky flopping over in a Backdrop Suplex, the elfin blonde landing on her bended arm. The Hawkeye howled and shuddered in pain, pulling the wing out from underneath her and cradling it gingerly. While she worked at the limb, Emily headed for the nearest set of buckles and scaled them easily. Rising to a stance on the top, staring in at her challenger, Emily’s chest heaves as she bounced in place a time or two, judging the distance she’ll need to land her Diving Kneedrop across Kylie’s chest.
DIVING KNEEDROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4GCUe6AcBGc
Not surprisingly, it’s right on target and the impact sent the bedraggled Kylie into another set of spasms. Meanwhile, Emily bounced to her feet and tapped a temple.
“I’m only using eight percent, people.” she admitted to the crowd. The Black Queen strutted regally to the former Pleasant Valley Princess and used her as a red carpet striding atop Kylie’s open tummy while walking to the other side of the ring.
Behind the champ, who seemed to enjoy the crowd being putty in her hands, a groaning, gagging Kylie rolled to her aching abdomen and pushes up to all fours, frozen there as she drew in deep breaths.
Once she was finished basking in whatever remedial glory those assembled could offer up, the Insidious Intellectual rounded on one heel and made her way back to Kylie, who’d made it to one knee in the interim. “I know you’re too proud to ask for a hand,” Emily said quietly, “which is why I’m going to give it to you without offGHOOAAAH!”
Sanders stuffed her right arm between the brunette’s thighs, hooked it around Em’s right thigh and surged to verticality in a textbook Fireman’s Carry. Slinging her other arm around the base of West’s skull before anyone save herself had fully processed the situation, Kylie whirled in a circle and bellowed, “LAST ONE, LOSERS! TAKE ALL THE PICTURES YOU NNNNGGGHHHH!”
Emily drilled the point of her elbow into the side of Sanders’s head once, twice, three times. They proved more than enough to loosen the challenger’s bonds and West slipped down her back to land in a tense crouch. Too infuriated with Kylie’s abrupt resurgence to bother with anything more complicated, the Amazing Academic seized hold of her opponent’s ankles and yanked them out from underneath. Already woozy following the elbows, Sanders’s head grew all the foggier when she toppled forward and THWHUNKED down hard on her face, chest and belly. Hands pressed her aching chin, Ky tried to roll toward the ropes, alas her progress was halted by the World Champion, who’d settled into a snug mount just above the pits of her foe’s knees.
“The messageboards will have a field day with this.” Em’s muttered as she went about cracking her knuckles and rolling her wrists. “They’ll say I’m going to turn face and turn the Court into the second coming of the Super Friends, but we both know that isn’t true. Because what I’m about to do isn’t for them. It’s strictly for you and I.”
Kylie pushed up on an elbow and looked back over her left shoulder. “Don’t even think about it, Emily. I swear, you do this and I’ll AAARRGGGHH FAAAAHHHK!”
West crossed her hands in a stubby ‘X’, then worked the ‘J’ curves of her thumbs and forefingers into the deep crease just beneath Kylie’s buttocks. Unable to stop themselves, several betrayed Corps shouted ‘BRILLIANT HAND!’ when Emily dug in and Kylie shrieked in pain. The blonde’s initial reaction entailed burying both hands in her hair, but the burn in her scalp started to fade after a few seconds while the burn in her thighs grew all the hotter. Removing them from her tousle with a grim snarl, Ky braced her left hand against the mat and reaaaaaaaaaaaached back with the right, trying desperately to get a hold on the brunette’s hair. Or claw her nose off, the Iowan wasn’t picky at this point.
It was a valiant effort, no one would deny that, unfortunately West had been utilizing this particular torture since she’d been a sophomore in college and she remained mere inches out of reach. Taking in the heat of Kylie’s desperation with a satisfied smile, Emily gooooouged her thumbs back n’ forth along that crease, all the while doing her best to peel the challenger’s thighs off the bone. After more than fifteen seconds of hapless squirming from the blonde, Emily murmured, “We’ve already had this conversation, Kylie. You can ask me to break the hold… or you can crawl across the canvas like any other pawn.”
Ky shook her head ’no’, silencing a less oblique question of submission from Castle before it could even leave his lips. “If I ask you for ANYTHING,” she rasped, “it’ll be to lick my boots. Got that, brainiaKKEERRRGGGGHHH!”
West bore down on the Hammy Clamp, forcing the blonde to scream into her elbow to deny the former Corps the pleasure of her pain. Fiercely determined to stuff the proverbial middle finger in all their smug faces, Sanders dug her fingers into the mat, then forced herself into the sturdiest push-up she could manage and started inching her way across the canvas. The going was worse than slow, it was exhausting, even with West not actively fighting her advance, the strain on her arms was immense and by the end Kylie was crawling along on her elbows. Tossing an arm over the bottom rope, she turned her head to one side and spat, “Please be so kind as to get your FAT ASS off me, your majestYYOOOOWWW BYTCH!”
While her fun with the Clamp might have been at an end, Emily treated herself to another few seconds of amusement by grabbing a massive double handful of Kylie’s white briefs and yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanked them up until the Hawkeye voiced a soprano warble that rivaled Eliza Bliss. Dragging herself out onto the apron the very instant West released the wedgie, Sanders sucked wind and plucked her violated togs into something much closer to their original alignment. Eventually she grabbed the middle rope in one hand and used it to drag herself to something like verticality. “You… miserable… bytch,” she growled at the Black Queen, who watched from only a few feet away. “I always knew you were a fahking sadist.”
Emily sighed, a quiet, disappointed sound. “Just as I always knew you were a spineless coward. But I desperately wanted to be wroNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Kylie lunged over the ropes and CRAAACKED West’s face with a walloping Bytch Slap fueled by six years of hatred. Knocked in wobbly circle by the surprise attack, Emily regained her equilibrium almost at once and raced toward the ropes, her shoulders dropping low for the Spear that would-- Kylie stepped aside and jabbed her right knee forward just in time to THWHUNK West’s noggin as she shot through the strands.
Saved from an ungodly fall to the floor by nothing but the taut expanse of the middle rope, West quickly found her position strengthened by Sanders, when the blonde snagged a double handful of hair. This was hardly a boon however, as the enraged Iowan immediately THWHUMPED her nerd crushin’ knee into Emily’s forehead and chest more than a half a dozen times in less than five seconds.
APRON KNEE STRIKES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBOGk5iQTvI
She would’ve happily gone on if not for Castle’s count, which he started far too quickly for the challenger’s liking. “Fine, you want me to stop with the knees?” she hit one more just for good measure. “I’ll stop with the knees. But you’re not going to like the alternative.” Reeling West’s head into a rough Front Facelock, Ky backed down the apron and tugged hard, forcing the stunned brunette to climb her way out onto the apron. “Wonder how you’ll do on I.Q. test after this match?” Sanders let the question hang for all of a heartbeat before she dropped to the floor and THWHUNKED Emily’s forehead to the apron with a brutal DDT. The Sensual Scholar jolted up at a near forty-five degree angle and probably would’ve tumbled to the floor if she hadn’t somehow looped an arm over the middle rope.
APRON DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UpEGzxjvfIc
Kylie provided her own assistance shortly thereafter, the rejuvenated blonde stuffing her old rival under the bottom rope like she was little more than a bag of laundry. Hanging back on the floor to gather her wits, Kylie took note of the brunette’s position and she felt like taking the high road, albeit in a literal sense, as her days of kowtowing to those idiot fans were emphatically over. Once the decision was made she hopped onto the apron and strutted to the nearest corner, which she climbed with no real sense of urgency. Rising to her full height over FAWN’s so called queen, Kylie looked out at the crowd, then raised her right hand and tapped her temple.
“I’m. So.” The Heartland Horror pulled it away and offered the throng a one fingered salute that had the whole place shivering with jeers. “Gold. Fahk you, you cretins.” With that she leapt out into the void, swung her right arm into a stubby ‘V’ and THWHUMPED the point of her elbow between Emily’s breasts courtesy of a Randy Savage Elbow Drop that had a whole legion of former Corps going ‘Ohhhhhhhhh Nooooooo!’
DIVING ELBOW DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WcwOjjYtQU
The point of her dagger sent home deep between the cleavage of the Queen, Sanders bounced to a stop and scrambled for Emily’s far leg. She rolls up the Amazing Academic into a tight ball, West’s shoulders planted on the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
And the champion kicked her way free, flopping to one side. Kylie took a moment to cast a threatening glance at the official, but knowing she’d come up a full second short, she used the look to plant a seed for next time rather than as a complaint about this one. Instead, she snatched a handful of long dark locks and pulled a wobbly West to her feet as she rose.
“Never,” Ky shouted then paintbrushed the taste out of Emily’s mouth, West’s head flying to the side, “…EVER steal my Farm Hand.”
When the champ’s head returned in the elfin blonde’s direction a balled fist joined it, but Kylie blocked the effort with a raised left arm and returned in spades. Sanders peppered Emily’s jaw and chin with a series of jabs that put West’s head on a spring until Kylie gave a kiss to her fist in front of a teetering Emily and delivered a right cross that decked her longtime rival.
Kylie blew off her fist like it’s the barrel of a smoking gun. She leapt into the air above the splayed brunette and Mushroom Stomped both of Emily’s gurls before rubbing the tread of her shoe leather into the thin sheath of material covering the champ’s chest. With scornful disdain, the Hawkeye stepped off FAWN’s World Champion and circled her like a diminutive flaxen-haired shark.
Ky motioned a wincing Emily to get up.
“So in your foolproof plan, was I supposed to be down where you are now?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it,” West responded in a series of grunts, “but you don’t have the intellect to understand any of my plans.”
“Uh huh,” Kylie retorted before stomping Emily’s left set of ribs and plucking both ankles off the deck.
“Well, this one does have me stumped.”
The Hawkeye lifted and spread Emily’s stems wide. She called out to the crowd.
You want it?”
Crickets chirped in response.
“Really? Even when you gave a damn, you wanted all of them to do it to me.”
Noticing squirming from the Queen that nearly freed her, the challenger returned her attention from the former Corps to West and delivered on her threat, STOMPING Emily’s center in vicious fashion. And there’s no IQ on heaven or earth that could save Emily from a blinding wave of pain that pulsed through her body.
As the maven of Miskatonic U’s hands flew to her nether region, Kylie stepped over the loosened limbs of her foe and started slowly backpedaling while curling up Emily’s body in a manner it was never designed to go. Only once Kylie’s backside was nearly touching West’s shoulderblades did Sanders settle with her Boston Crab.
“Now we wait,” Ky snarled from between clenched teeth, “to find out when you get smart enough to realize you don’t want any more.”
Emily couldn’t contain a soft mewl from escaping her lips, but likewise she didn’t stop from digging her claws into the canvas and working her way, if slowly, toward the ropes. Slipping a palm around the bottom cable, Emily didn’t give Kylie the satisfaction of asking for a break, grinding her pearlies as the referee did it for her. Not surprisingly, Sanders held on for another ’FOUR!’ before throwing Emily’s legs away, the Black Queen’s back unrolling, Em reflexively sighing in relief.
As Emily slowly tugged her way up to a kneeling position with the help of the strands, Kylie was more than a little impatient. Unable to contain herself as West seemed to milk her embrace of the rubber-coated steel, Kylie charged in and got a fist buried into her navel for the mistake. A wheeling Emily drove the balled fingers in, doubling a bug-eyed Kylie. But Ky responded in kind, sending a knee crashing into West’s left temple.
The Amazing Academic’s counterattack ended nearly before it began, Kylie next sank her fingers into Emily’s scalp and dragged her in a floundering kneel-walk to the nearest corner. The elfin blonde forced West’s arms over the middle ropes on either side of the corner then STUFFED the champ’s braincase under the middle buckle. With Emily’s body and legs extended toward center stage, the uncrowned Lightweight and Intercontinental champion strolled toward the opposite corner.
Turning, Kylie lifted an arm high, drawing a chorus of jeers from the former members of the Corps. Paying them no mind, the target in front of her VERY distracting, Sanders raced toward the wedged Brainiac. As she drew close, Kylie launched, her boots leading the way. They connected harshly with Emily’s derriere and the buxom brunette’s head and neck were JAMMED into the corner with enough force behind the Pleasant Valley Ass Kicking to send West tumbling out of her predicament and end in a facedown sprawl, cradling the back of her head while muttering some curses that might not be found in Webster’s.
Noticing the Black Queen’s positioning, Kylie didn’t turn the champ over for a pin. Instead, she climbed aboard in a squatting reverse straddle of Em’s waistline. Lifting a set of curled fingers high, some in the crowd forgot they’re no longer supposed to respond and an admittedly weak “FARM HAND” bleated through the assembled.
As Kylie’s digits descended toward the juncture of Emily’s gluteus and left hammy, the brunette’s lower leg swung up on the hinge of her knee. The heel of West’s boot THUMPED into Kylie’s lower abdomen ONE…TWO…THREE TIMES until Sanders was leaning backwards to take some of the sting from the hammer blows.
This brought her arms within range of an arching Emily who managed to lock elbows with those of her challenger and send the blonde back-somersaulting until Kylie was stacked on her shoulders, Emily rising to all fours to keep her that way for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The Hawkeye barely escaped the ingenious audibled Backslide by tumbling the rest of the way over and ending on her knees. A startled Kylie laced her fingers into a Double Axhandle to pound the back of West’s skull, but before she could, Emily improvised a Headbutt by charging like the world’s best looking bull, gutting Kylie’s already knotted tummy with the crown of her head.
With a deep loud grunt, Ky ended on her haunches, hugging her midriff, sucking air. In front of her, Emily rose to a full kneel and there champ and challenger remained for several long seconds, neither seemingly with the reserves to attack the other, that was until Emily swung an underhand claw into Kylie’s crotch. The southerly route immediately hit paydirt when the Queen clenched and sent an electric shock of anguish tensing every muscle of the elfin blonde, a mousy squeak emerging from the quickly moist-eyed Hawkeye.
“I know this is cheap, tawdry even.” West jostled her wrist and flexed her fingers, the minute adjustments more than enough to remind Kylie that her otherwise sturdy togs were no match for the World Champion’s grip. “It appeals only to the basest instincts of the lowest common denominator, and yet…” she reached out with her free hand and grabbed Sanders by the throat, not to strangle, but to force searing eye contact as she dominated the challenger in intimate fashion…”it’s still infinitely better treatment than you actually deservVERRRGGGGHHHH!”
Kylie latched both hands to Emily’s breasts and gave them a retaliatory squeeze before narrowing her focus to the brunette’s nipples. Twisting her wrists in opposite directions stopped Em’s mouth real quick, so Ky took the opportunity to retort. “You of all people have the gall to lecture me on who deserves what?” She sucked in a deep breath as Emily shifted her thumb’s angle of attack. “For years you told them that the Corps were using me up. That they’d shorten my career by a decade. That I wouldn’t know greatness until I kicked them to the curb. And now that I’ve finally done just that…” Sanders tightened her dual vise clamps and started to pull, which elicited a hiss of anguish from her opponent, “You’re siding with London and the Bloodwinds? What the hell is that shyt, EmilYYAAAAAGHH FAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
West abruptly transitioned from clawing to pinching and the burst of pain from down below was enough to loosen the blonde’s hold on her foe’s vaunted rack. Shaking loose of Kylie’s pincers, Emily coiled her free arm around the back of the other woman’s head and drew her into a Front Facelock while still maintaining the vile underhanded attack.
“Listen very closely my friend, because what you are about to hear comes so infrequently most believed it a mere rumor.” Emily hauled the both of ‘em to their feet, then stuffed her head under Kylie’s near arm. It looked for all the world like a standard Vertical Suplex attempt, save for the Insidious Intellectual’s rather non-traditional clamp on her foe’s womanhood. “I wanted to be wrong. I wanted you to succeed where all others had failed. Because FAWN already has its Black Queen. The opposing side though… she’s rather poorly championed, wouldn’t you say?”
Kylie wanted to tell the bloviating beeyotch to stuff it, but West’s control over her undercarriage was so complete that it paralyzed her whole frame. As such she offered no resistance when Emily dipped her knees and hoisted the hobbled blonde all the way to high noon. The Brain Trust and a great deal of the displaced Corps called for a Hemorrhage, but Emily wasn’t quite through showing Kylie the error of her ways, which was why she stomped to the edge of the ring and tossed her down gut-first on the top rope. Sanders hit with a meaty ‘TWANG!’ then bounced free and landed on her back with a dull, sweaty thud.
Emily allowed her a few seconds to tend to the fires between her thighs before she reached down and grabbed a huge handful of blonde locks. “Up, Ky. I said UP!” she YANKED on Sanders’s hair and the challenger jerked to one knee, her hands flying to Emily’s encroaching talon. Still holding her foe’s hair, West positioned herself off Kylie’s left side and murmured, “It’s time you finally learned the depth of my distaste for those who would upend the game board. And to answer the Corps about abandoning your post.”
“Ohhh you sanctimonious bytch, I am going the nose off your face, I swear to UUUUNNNNGGGGHH!”
Emily brought her right knee up and slammed it into the small of Sanders’ back. Kylie arched forward which made it all the easier for West to THWHUMP her left knee into the pit of opposing stomach. Doubled over by the force of it, the Iowan didn’t recognize the trap until Emily swung her right knee up and around to catch her just above the curve of her glutes. And so it went, Kylie rooted to the spot as the pistons of Emily’s knees put hard miles on her back and belly.
A full baker’s dozen finally unhinged Sanders’s knees and she went to all fours. What might’ve been a mercy in other circumstances turned into something else all together because West dropped with her, the Sensual Scholar making sure her left knee ended up stuffed beneath Ky’s tummy. Pressing one hand to the back of Sanders’s neck and the other to her tenderized spine, Emily looked out at the crowd and called, “It pains me to have to ask, but the question must be answered. Tell me Corps, NICE… or NAUGHTY?”
‘NAUGHTY!’ returned to her a thousand-fold, though Emily noted their collective voice was tinged with obvious regret. Nonetheless, a verdict was a verdict and Christmas needed Krampus just as much as it needed Santa. So Emily raised her right hand, flattened it into a paddle and brought it CRAAACKING down on Sanders’s cheeks. Kylie snarled and tried to struggle clear, but she was short of breath and West made it even worse by driving an elbow into the small of her back. That proved an effective pacifier so Emily returned to her spanking, which apparently included one blow for every shopping day since Thanksgiving plus another dozen to grow on. By the time she finished the exposed crescents of Ky’s buns were an angry sunburned pink that’d surely deepen to red before the night was over.
Shaking the tingle out of her spankin’ hand, Emily pulled Kylie’s head up with the other and leaned down so she could whisper in her ear. “Ours is a very simple story, Kylie. You are the hero. I am the villain. You would do well to remember that.” Message delivered, she grabbed Ky at shoulder and hip and tossed her from her knee like so much blonde garbage.
Seething with an anger she hadn’t felt since Krystal let her down against Krazy Shea, Sanders rolled all the way to the other side of the ring before she pushed to her knees. “You… I… hate… you. I fucking hate you.”
Emily shook her head sadly. “And therein lies our primary difference. I don’t hate you, Kylie. Never have. But somehow you always find a way to disappoint me.”
Sanders got to her feet, making a conscious effort not to tend to her stinging backside. “I love disappointing you, Emily. Someone has to. And taking the World Title… that’ll be the biggest disappointment of all.” She stormed to the middle of the squared circle and spread her arms wide. “Now get your ass out here and FIGHT ME!”
Emily obliged her and raised both fists to shoulder level when she saw Sanders do the same. Too angry to wait for West to close the gap herself, the Heartland Horror darted forward and ‘PWAAAKED!’ her rival’s cheek with a jab. Emily ‘uunnnggghed’ and fired off a shot of her own, the brunette’s knuckles finding blonde jaw with pinpoint accuracy. One blow from each side was more than enough to trigger a full scale firefight, one that saw both ladies clouting their enemy around the head and shoulders with closed fists, heedless of Castle’s repeated calls to ‘Open ‘em up, ladies!’
The FAWNatics, not quite able to wrap their heads around this rabbit hole they’d fallen into, found themselves roaring ‘BOO!’ whenever Kylie landed a punch and ‘YAY!’ whenever Emily swiveled her head in return. This two part chorus remained quite consistent until Emily dipped the challenger’s latest effort and retaliated with a half dozen Forearm Smashes to the chest.
Her latest fusillade stacked Kylie against the ropes and allowed the champ to lay claim to a wrist. Stepping back, she dropped her shoulders and started into an Irish Whip only to have Sanders reverse and send her to the ropes instead. Nonplussed, Emily bounced off the strands and came back with a Clothesline, which Kylie ducked en route to the same ropes Emily had just cleared.
Eyes locked as they charged from opposite sides of the ring, West and Sanders sprang the same trap at the same time, which meant trouble for both. Catching a huge double fistful of hair as they pounced, blonde and brunette swung through a violent midair circle and pulled the other face head-first into the mat, stereo Facebusters that left the crowd groaning in sympathy and both ladies flat on their backs in glassy-eyed sprawls.
As the women gave their head a shake, trying to slip their senses back into place, the FAWNatics pieced together perhaps the most unexpected chant in the organization’s history as ‘EM-UHH-LEE!’ slowly built to a crescendo.
Blonde and brunette responded in kind, each struggling to their feet. They moved simultaneously but while Emily approached Kylie with fist drawn, Sanders backpedaled into the ropes behind her. She burst out of the rubber-coated steel and slid on her knees back to the onrushing Emily, NAILING the Brainiac with a Sliding Gut Punch.
SLIDING GUT PUNCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEHvYvaEfgE
The meaty ‘smeck’ of fist to tummy reverberated and a grunting West doubled from the impact while Ky slid to a stop, having also stopped the first ever chant of West’s name. Sanders hopped to her feet and spun to a likewise turning Emily. She raced at the grimacing brunette and SPEARED the holy academia out of the buxom Black Queen, Emily folding around Ky’s deep, digging shoulder before being PLANTED into the canvas.
As West spread out in a splattered starfish next to the elfin blonde, the Hawkeye hooked both legs and folded FAWN’s summa cum laude into a matchbook for the glorious…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
West spasmed and popped free with a split-second to spare, rolling to her side as a disconsolate Kylie turned to the official.
“I’m the World Champion,” Ky insisted, a groundbreaking, earth-shattering, eleven and a half year-in-the-making event, but the zebra begged to differ. Sanders slapped the mat in frustration then added one to Emily’s gulping tummy.
Kylie gathered up West’s head in her hands and yanked the sweetly silent Em to her feet. The blonde tucked Emily’s noggin in a tight Side Headlock. “It’s my favorite of our time together when I get to show you how simple the world can be.”
Kylie surged toward the nearest buckle with the Amazing Academic in tow. The Hawkeye sprinted up the corner ropes and pushed off in a u-turn, ending with her sitting out and West’s forehead SLAMMING into the thinly-covered plywood. The impact of the Springboard Bulldog sent Emily barrel rolling to her back in a spreadeagle and Kylie covered posthaste, again hooking both legs for….
SPRINGBOARD BULLDOG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikPWDJ9tc44
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOO!
Emily denied the would-be number one by the slimmest of margins. Kylie rose to a kneel, running her hands through near shoulder-length hair. She shook her head and one word escaped her cupid’s-arrow lips.
“What?”
The question remained unspecified as Sanders moved to her feet and dragged an increasingly rubbery West on hands and knees with her. She led the battered champion to a corner and gave up her grip on Em’s long dark locks instead collecting her foe’s wrists as she moved behind West, Emily deprived of two of her all fours.
With the well-filled head of the Amazing Academic poised over the bottom buckle, Kylie placed a boot behind the Brainiac’s noggin.
“Let’s see if we can Drain the idea you’re some kind of genius right out of you.”
The challenger brutally curbstomped West’s head into the buckle in a violent homage to West’s Brain Drain.
BRAIN DRAIN @ 2:39
www.youtube.com/watch?v=05XDcBiPxmo
A delighted Kylie reveled in the boos, the crowd not happy with HER gimmick infringement. But Sanders wasn’t nearly done. She dragged the ragdolled Emily to her feet and scooped the buxom Queen off them, placing her in a seated position on the top buckle.
Kylie turned her back to the brunette and reached behind her to grasp the Black Queen’s arms. Using her renowned reserves, Ky ripped Emily off her perch, sending her front-flipping overhead to a CRASH landing with an Iconoclasm.
ICONOCLASM @ 00:17
www.youtube.com/watch?v=REPirgrbLC0
Demolished, Emily slid to a stop, limbs pointing to each direction on the compass. Kylie wipes her hands in satisfaction as she rose, but instead of going for the pin a third time, she collected Emily by the wrists and pulled her to just the right spot. The blonde moved to the corner and climbed up.
Taught by the best, namely Shea London, Sanders would still never be known as a top high flyer, but the turncoat could pull a maneuver out of her bag of tricks on occasion and, as she stared out into the crowd, the fans silenced until Ky gave them a certain international salute, Sanders back flipped into the air in fine form, Moonsaulting toward Emily’s open midriff.
Unfortunately for…well no one but Kylie it seemed, West pulled up her knees. Balling to offer the bony joints as a landing, Emily gutted the plummeting Hawkeye. Kylie rolled away hugging her belly and violently gagging. As the blonde suffered nearby, Emily struggled to a seat and wearily but, clearly satisfied, tapped her temple. Much of the crowd aped her in response.
The Black Queen rose, striding slowly but confidently to the retching blonde. Snatching a handful of flaxen locks, she tugged Sanders to her feet.
“A smarter woman than you would get the message. You have no idea what it takes to be a champion or what it means to be a leader. But if I have to give you refresher courses on that subject it’s not totally unsatisfying.”
In the blink of an eye, Kylie exploded into action, dipping while throwing an arm between Emily’s thighs to pop the buxom brunette onto her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry, ready to Pleasant Valley Drive Emily into incoherence and gain the big prize.
But as she flipped West off her shoulders the Insidious Intellectual added a little impetus behind Ky’s effort and she made a very important further quarter-turn, landing on her feet and out of Sanders’ grasp as Kylie sat out next to her.
Spinning into a dead run at the seated blonde, Emily delivered a vicious Soccer Kick to Kylie’s temple to make the a harrowing escape a flabbergasting reversal, the reverberating sound of boot to braincase drawing a loud ‘oooooh’ from the crowd.
SOCCER KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aBfHfW9uzo
Emily didn’t hover over the glassy-eyed blonde for long, instead dragging a numbed Kylie up by her head. In direct response to Sanders stealing her Brain Drain, Emily ‘hupped’ the ‘wet noodle’ of Kylie’s body onto her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. The FAWNatics screamed for the Driver. Emily had something different in mind though, instead tossing Kylie off in front of her. And as Kylie plummeted, Emily dropped to her back and ‘stabbed’ Sanders in the breadbasket with a Double Knee Gutbuster, sending Kylie’s already broken abdomen into fits as she rolled to her back, eviscerated.
DOUBLE KNEE GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFppvkJOlsg
Emily sat up, raked a hand through her hair and looked over at the challenger, who’d dlopped over onto her side in the wake of the brutal stomach pumping. She opened her mouth, then closed it, apparently thinking better of it. Instead she got to her feet and walked an angry circle around her crippled adversary. The Black Queen seemed on the verge of addressing Sanders on more than one occasion, but West didn’t actually speak until she dropped to one knee and forced it into the side of Kylie’s neck. Twining her fingers through the blonde’s sweat-soaked hair, she yanked up, putting a noticeable kink in the other woman’s throat.
“Hear my words and hear them well old friend, because I make this offer only once. Swear off this campaign of mindless violence and join the Court. With our assistance you can rebuild the Corps even better than before… you will achieve everything you ever wanted… and you will finally BE the woman you always wanted to be. But if you refuse,” Emily sighed heavily, as if the alternative pained her a great deal, “if you refuse me I can make these people forget the last four months in less than four minutes. You’ll go back to being a puling loser, only now you’ll be a puling loser with no support network. Answer me now, Kylie Sanders. Bend the knee to me only once and I’ll give you the world.”
Kylie tried to out from under the champ’s knee but Emily only bore down and jerked on the hair hold that much harder. Following a few deep, ragged breaths, she growled, “How many times… do I have to tell you to kiss my ass… before you’ll start listenNOOOOOOWWWWW BYTCH!”
Emily YANKED a tuft of blonde hair loose and tossed it aside without so much as a blink. This was followed by a swift, short knee to the back of Sanders’s skull. Lights dimmed by the brutal blow, Kylie could barely focus on standing up when Emily bade she do so, let alone stop the brunette from drawing her into a Front Facelock. With Sanders’s head tucked under left arm, West slung the challenger’s left arm across the back of her neck and finished preparing by snatching a handful of tights. The crowd knew the time was right for a Hemorrhage and though they had serious reservations about cheering the Amazing Academic, they waited patiently for her to tap her temple and were more than a little surprised when Ems simply hoisted Kylie to high noon.
Seconds ticked off the clock and the FAWNatics tolled them without missing a beat. ‘THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN… EIGHT… NINE… TEN… ELEVEN… TWELVE… THIRTEEN… FOURTEEN… FIFTEEN… SIXTEEN… SEVENTEEN… EIGHTEEN… NINETEEN…’
Emily kicked her right leg up in a kick worthy of the Rockettes and laid out on her back to THWHUNK the crown of her foe’s skull into the canvas courtesy of the fed’s most dangerous Brainbuster. The Heartland Horror jolted like she’d touched a live wire and would’ve almost certainly sat up in the wake of head trauma if only Emily had released the Facelock.
CEREBERAL HEMORRHAGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=L53TPig5wAM
But Emily had not released the Facelock. Indeed, the Sensual Scholar held on just as tightly, meaning Ky had no choice but to follow along when her attacker rolled onto her stomach and clambered to her feet. Set in much the same position she’d occupied a mere twenty or so seconds prior, Emily shook her head sadly and murmured, “I warned you this would happen. How often do I have to be right before you’ll start to listen?” Then she dropped her hips and muscled the knock-kneed blonde into place for her second Hemorrhage in as many NO!
West shifted her grips when Sanders reached two o’clock and suddenly the disgraced leader of the Corps was draped across her nemesis’s shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. If the FAWNatics had shown some hesitation in cheering the Hemorrhage, they showed absolutely none in blowing the roof off when Emily pushed up and dropped out on her left side to THAWHUNK the back of Sanders’s head and shoulders into the mat with a Pleasant Valley Driver. Emily floated over into a Lateral Press but rather than go for it she swung around into a full on straddle and slid forward until her crotch was pressed snugly against Kylie’s upturned face. Knees splayed wide, hands planted flat, Emily flipped hair out of her face and stared dead at the hard camera while she put an end to the nastiest temper tantrum in recent FAWN memory…
PLEASANT VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkxfVzRABbE
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounded and her music started to roll, but the victrix made no move until the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall and STILL the FAWN World Champion… EMILY WEST!”
More than a little displeased despite the favorable outcome, Emily got to her feet and allowed Nick to raise her hand, albeit only for a moment. Pulling away as soon as the formalities were properly observed, she stalked back to Sanders and dropped to one knee. Genuinely baffled for the first time in a very long while, West slipped a hand under Ky’s head and lifted it off the mat for closer observation. “What do I have to do to get through to you? I won’t cripple you. I won’t fuck you. And I certainly won’t store audio visual equipment within you. Yet you refuse to see reason, so the lessons continue. And I’m afraid they will grow all the harsher until you finally absorb the knowledge I am trying so desperately to impart.”
Ominously silent, Emily grabbed hold of Sanders’s top between the cups and yanked it free with a few quick tugs. While it would’ve made an excellent addition to her trophy case, the Black Queen had something different in mind for this particular garment. Holding it stretched taut, Emily pulled the white fabric into Ky’s mouth like a bridle, then tied it snug against the back of her head, effectively gagging the insensate beauty. Almost done, Emily sidled around to sit in the blonde’s lap and took Sanders’s head in her hands. “I told Shea the same thing I’m telling you.” she whispered. “Don’t even THINK about speaking my name until you’re ready to play the game again. Because if you come at me trying to upend the board a second time… I will end you, old friend. It will hurt me to do so, but it won’t stop me. Not for a second.”
With that class was dismissed and Emily set her pupil aside like just another book to be shelved and forgotten. Castle approached with the belt shortly thereafter and Emily took it from him, but not before she’d patted Kylie’s slumbering tummy. “Learn from this, Ky.” the Insidious Intellectual said when she’d regained her footing. “For those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Finished with one student, she turned to rest of her cheering class. “The woman in the ring with me… the woman bound and helpless at my feet… I consider her a friend. If I would do that to a friend, imagine what I might do to someone I held in less regard. Remember that before you would send another of your so called heroines against me.”
Patting the golden faceplate possessively, she draped the belt over one shoulder and made her way out of the ring, leaving the battered form of Kylie Sanders as a present for all those she’d spurned since Summer Swelter.