Post by SammieSinclair on Jan 10, 2015 9:21:03 GMT
More than a little interested in the story that was about to unfold, the Announcer cleared his throat and looked over the hard camera as he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and it is the first match in a best of five series! Introducing first, representing the Black Court, hailing from Glen Echo Michigan, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-one pounds. She is the Fair and Radiant Maiden whom the angels name… LENORE LEMARCHAND!”
Kula Shaker’s cover of ‘Hush’ came on strong, causing several flocks of handmade ’Ravens’ to take to the skies, Lemarchand’s ever growing number of supporters slowly but surely gaining ground on all the boos. Those fans also offered up a rousing cheer when their dark eyed anti-heroine strode into view shortly thereafter. Smiling the tiniest bit, Lenore hooked her thumbs together and raised a Raven of her own overhead. When a nearby cameraman pulled in for a closer look she tipped it a smirk and noted, “Better not take your eyes off the screen, people. Because I’m about to steal this show.”
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
For her first match with one of FAWN’s most domineering champions in recent memory, Emily West’s lady in waiting wore deep purple boy-cut trunks and matching halter-style bikini top. Her elbow and kneepads were matte black, though the presence of the latter was a mystery as they were covered by bell-flared 'leggings' that started just south of mid-thigh and dropped to ankle length. The look was finished with shiny black boots and purple wrist tape that matched her togs.
Starting down the aisle as soon as she dropped her hands, Lenore was as dismissive as ever to those who dared boo her tactics, though it was worth noting she did pause for just a moment to acknowledge a fan holding an expertly rendered charcoal drawing of the brunette with her namesake bird perched on one shoulder. After that she took the steps at a brisk pace, hopped over the top rope and immediately mounted the second buckle of the nearest corner. Eyes locked on the stage, Lenore Lemarchand didn’t say a word, but everyone knew she was begging a certain Englishwoman to come through the curtain.
Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long.
The Raven’s anthem had only just faded from hearing when the Announcer continued, “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Richmond, England, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and fifteen pounds. She is the Oncoming Storm, this is… OLIVIA DARE!"
The Season’s Beatings crowd burst into thunderous roars when the sound system offered up the languid, somehow dangerous drumbeat of Hooverphonic’s ‘2Wicky’. A deluge already, the noise swelled past Category Five when the lissome Brit stunner flitted through the curtain and stopped atop the stage to greet her followers.
OLIVIA DARE:
For the first of what could be as many as five battles with the Black Court’s Rook, Dare wore a pair of stormy black bikini briefs edged with silver trim and cut high enough to give the throng a tantalizing view of her sculpted hips, thighs and calves. Her equally exquisite midriff sheathed in a matching black bustier and the rest of her ensemble was finished with short black wrestling shoes and silver knee and elbow pads.
Oh so eager to defend her spot against this woman who was so like herself, Olivia started down the ramp with her eyes boring through Lenore. More than willing to hold onto this silent staring contest the whole way to the squared circle, Olivia only broke it off when she saw a sign that read:
RAVENS CAN’T BRAVE ONE STORM, LET ALONE FIVE!
“She’s gonna have to face at least three.“ Dare told the camera with a small smile. “Of course she might beg off after five minutes, guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” Returning her attention to the challenge at hand, she made her way up the steps but made no move to enter because Lenore was still staring down from her perch on the second buckle.
Neither woman showed any sign of backing down, so referee Al Carpenter moved in after several seconds and patted Lemarchand on the side. “Go to your corner, Lenore, I need to check your pads and boots.“ She didn’t seem too thrilled by the prospect, but the brunette hopped down after another three seconds and stalked to the other side of the ring.
Now that she had the proper personal space, Olivia strutted up the steps and onto the apron where she turned her back to the strands. Arms looped over the rubber-coated steel, she dipped her knees and tumbled back, the former World Champion landing on her feet with no discernible effort. Spinning around on her heel, Olivia strutted to the middle of the ring and raised two fists to the rafters. Then she looked to Lenore and raised an index finger. “First blood sets the tone, luv. And I mean to take it fivefold before I’m done with you.”
The bell sounded and both women left their corners at once, not charging the center but certainly not taking their time either. Considering the directness of her opponent’s challenge, Olivia didn’t bother to circle, she merely raised her hands to shoulder level and leaned forward in a springy-limbed grappler’s crouch. Lenore joined her an instant thereafter and in what would be the first of several surprises in the next several minutes, Dare offered her hand. Perhaps more surprising, the Raven took it without so much as a sniff or a smirk.
“Best of five series is something else, Lenore.” the Englishwoman said softly. “The kind of thing that can make or break careers. You sure you’re ready for that?”
Lemarchand smiled ever so faintly and Dare knew the answer before her lips moved. “I’ve been working toward this day since the moment Emily offered me a job. The question is Olivia, are you ready for me?”
Olivia matched the smile with one of her own and beckoned her fingers invitingly. “You’ll have to lock up with me to find out, luv.”
Lenore obliged her without hesitation, the whip-strong brunette pushing in to catch the equally bendy blonde in a forceful Collar & Elbow Lock-Up. Their first skirmish was strong, though hardly furious, more a subtle testing of power than a violent shoving match. As the initiator Lemarchand had marginally better momentum and she pushed her foe back a step or two before Olivia stopped her momentum by dropping to one knee. A moment thereafter the Oncoming Storm rose up and forced Lenore to give up what little she’d earned and then some, but what might’ve been a full fledged march to the corner against a less disciplined opponent came to an abrupt halt when Lemarchand repeated the Brit’s penitent tactic. Feeling absolutely no inclination to break the clinch, Lenore rose to her full height and made like she was about to resume shoving when she slipped an arm around the back of Dare’s neck and reeled her into a tight Side Headlock.
“Get used to this, Olivia.” the brunette advised while compressing Dare’s cheek against the modest swell of her chest, “your head feels like it was designed to fit right there.”
Olivia didn’t respond with words, rather one hand was pressed to the small of the American’s back and the other worried at the knot of Lenore’s hands. Finding the grip too sturdy to break with sheer force, Olivia leaned into Lemarchand’s torso, then raised her right foot and snugged it against the other woman’s left shin and pressed down. That relatively minor exertion forced Lenore to one knee and while it didn’t break the Headlock outright it allowed the Blackbird to sidle around behind and-- a small burst of applause from the mat wrestling fans in attendance as Olivia slipped free, captured Lenore’s left wrist and pinned it up between her shoulders with a Hammerlock.
Lenore grimaced and patted her stinging shoulder for a moment, then reached back, attempting to get a hold of Olivia’s head. Dare pulled clear but her shifting allowed Lemarchand to regain her feet. Flashing a warning glance to Carpenter when it looked like he might ask a stupid question, the Raven took a few steps toward the ropes only to stop when Olivia jerked up on her pinioned arm.
“That’s the lazy way out, girl.” the Brit explained. “You want your arm back? You’ll have to take it from--” Lenore shifted a bit, reached back with her free arm and hooked it under Dare’s left bicep. Pulling up freed the Courtier from the Hammerlock and allowed her to swing around into a basic Wristlock. With wrist in one hand and bicep in the other, Lenore laid out and tossed Olivia to the canvas with an Armdrag of the most basic variety around. She still had control of Dare’s wrist and the Raven meant to make the most of it, alas, Olivia wasn’t nearly so generous and she somersaulted off her back to alleviate the pressure and return to boot leather.
“Not bad at all,” Lenore said of the blonde’s efforts, “still got your wrist though.” She bent Olivia’s hand back toward her elbow to prove it.
Olivia’s brief grimace of pain quickly blossomed into a smirk. “So you do. I wonder how long you’ll be able to keep it?” Lenore didn’t get to answer before the former FAWN World Champ dropped into another somersault, popped to her feet and reversed the torque on the Arm Wringer as neat as you please. Positioning herself behind Lenore’s outstretched wing, Dare halved the Wristlock to put her right hand against the Fair & Radiant Maiden’s left shoulder. From there she pushed down hard, the pressure of it forcing Lenore to the mat on her tummy with Olivia in full control of her arm.
“I can see you thinking about those ropes. Best not to think about them until absolutely necessary. Pretend it’s Pure Rul--”
Lenore pushed to one knee, tucked her free arm against her chest and tumbled over onto her back to negate the joint-lock without actually escaping it. Getting to her feet wasn’t hard after that, there was however the nagging question of her trapped arm. Seeking technique over brute force, she cupped Olivia’s chin in the palm of her right hand and pushed forward, straining the Englishwoman’s neck at an awkward angle. Olivia muttered, twisted her way free after a few seconds work. “Careful where you put your hands, Raven. Anything you stick near a girl’s mouth is liable to get bittOOFH!”
Lemarchand pounded a single punch into Olivia’s washboard abs and capitalized on the surprise of it by taking control of the Arm Wringer. Quickly coming to realize that she’d have to fight this match in as close a quarters as she could manage, Lemarchand segued into a Hammerlock of her own and pushed onto her toes, forcing Dare to do the same. “I’ve studied the tapes, Olivia, I know all the dirty little tricks you Brits pull out to win ‘legit’ wrestling matches. You want to bite, go ahead. Just know this. I bite back. I pinch too.”
Dare smirked through the twinge in her shoulder. “Oooohhh, that’s good to know. Just when I thought this was going to be borRRGGHH!”
Lenore cranked up again and this time it was the Brit taking a few steps toward the ropes. “Believe me sweet girl,” the brunette murmured, “this will be plenty of things, but boring isn’t one of th--”
Olivia hooked her left foot around into the pit of the Raven’s left knee and pushed down, forcing Lenore to kneel. Soon as she had the measure of things Dare stretched out flat as she could and rolled backward onto her knees. With the Hammerlock transformed into a harmless wrist grip, the Daredevil pulled Lemarchand in close and wrapped her free arm around the brunette’s head. Locking her hands as soon as she had Lemarchand’s pate under control, Olivia laid out on her tummy and pushed onto her toes, forcing the prone battler to carry her weight.
“How’s the canvas look from that angle, honey?” Dare chided while pulling up on the Facelock. “If you’re getting tired of it you could always tap--oh no, not that easy!” Lemarchand tried to twist her way out so Olivia twisted with her, an impromptu gator roll that brought the ladies pretty close to the ropes before they spiraled back the way they’d came. Knees splayed wide, Dare pushed up and bore down with all her weight to force Lenore’s forehead into the mat. “Five matches, dear heart. You asked for five matches and this is just the first. This is just the BEGINNING of the first. So I ask you again, are you sure you’re ready for NNNNGGGHHH!”
Lemarchand twisted loose (at the cost of a good scrape on her forehead) and promptly slapped on a Chancery of her own. “I didn’t challenge you because I wanted easy.” Lenore jostled her grip, chafing the trapped lovely’s ears. “I did it because I wanted to test myself against the best. And test her in return.” Case in point, she cupped her hands under the Englishwoman’s chin, then put her forehead against the mat and flipped forward to land on the tips of her toes, a low limber bridge that wrenched Olivia’s neck back at a sharp angle. Hands braced flat against the mat, Olivia shook her head ‘no’ when Al asked if she wanted to quit, not too forcefully though, as doing so exacerbated the pain in her neck.
Beside her, Lenore pushed up on her toes and jostled the Chinlock, looking for any sign of real distress in the former World Champion. Not seeing any, she pulled a bit harder, then asked, “Ready to give it up, ‘Livy?”
Dare snorted in spite of the pain. “Would you really want me to, Lenny?”
“Most certainly not. Still, if you insist on staying trapped I’ll have to make your stay that much more unpleasRRRGGGHHH!”
The Oncoming Storm reached over with her right hand splayed wide, laid it atop Lemarchand’s face and simultaneously squeezed and pushed, forcing her palm into the brunette’s nose while gouging into her temples. Lenore was forced to break her grip after only a few seconds, which allowed Olivia to regain control of the situation with a grounded Headlock. Taking the time to grrrrrrrriiiind the Raven’s ears in the vise of her bicep and forearm, Dare got to her feet, dragged Lemarchand up alongside, then popped her hips and slung the other bendy up, over and down with a throw that was equal parts Headlock Takedown and Hip Toss.
Olivia didn’t maintain her grip on Lenore’s head through the descent so she was free to roll clear, which she did while the canvas was still thrumming. Pushing to one knee within heartbeats of one another, blonde and brunette took a moment to adjust their togs and enjoy the loud ‘THIS IS WRESTLING!’ chant that’d broken out during the finale of their first exchange.
On her feet shortly thereafter, Olivia started to circle, though she didn’t close until Lenore returned to verticality too. Eyes alight, the Englishwoman raised curled fingers and said. “Excellent opening salvo, pretty bird. Are you ready for another?”
Lenore ‘snapped’ her waistband against her hips and nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, English.”
“Mind if I lead?”
“You’re welcome to tr--”
‘Try’ didn’t get all the way off her lips because Dare darted in and curled her left arm around the back of the American’s head. Jerking her down in the same motion, Olivia twisted into Lenore and brought her right arm slashing up in a European Uppercut that THWAPPED her fellow bendy’s chin. Lemarchand rocked back on her heels and staggered hard, one hand flying to her aching jaw. Though her legs looked brittle for a moment she didn’t go down, which both pleased and irritated the Blackbird.
When she’d steadied out, Lenore dropped her hand and gave Olivia a baleful look. “I guess we’re not wrestling anymore. What’s the matter, afraid I might embarrass you?”
Dare grinned wide, reached up with an index finger and tapped her chin. “What’s the matter, afraid you don’t hit as hard as little olOOOOFFFFFHHHH!”
Lenore stormed in all right but instead of retaliating with a European Uppercut of her own she reared back and THWHAPPED her left forearm full force into Olivia’s chest. Certain she could walk it off, Dare stamped around in a tight little circle until her breathing returned to normal a few seconds later. “My Uppercuts are special, honey.” Lemarchand explained with a sly smile. “You’ll get one when I want you to have one. Until then, just set your feet and try to keep NNNNNGGGHHH!”
Olivia checked Lenore’s chin with a second European Uppercut that sent her shambling toward the ropes. “Shouldn’t be greedy, little bird.” the blonde snarked at her retreating back. “It’s the holiday season after HUUFFH!”
The Fair & Radiant Maiden rushed her with a vengeful Forearm Smash, one that saw her elbow gouge painfully into Dare’s right breast. “I’ll get the other one next time if you stand still.” she told the grimacing Englishwoman. “My targets usually aren’t that smallLLERRGGGHH!”
A third European Uppercut ‘clacked’ Lenore’s teeth and after that conversation was in short supply as the pair of lissome lovelies clubbed away with their bludgeon of choice. More than half a dozen blows were exchanged on each side with neither woman earning a direct advantage until Dare caught Lemarchand coming in with a Bytch Slap that CRAAACKED the Courtier’s head to one side.
Far from satisfied while the American was still vertical, Olivia reared back and slapped her twice more, taking pains to make sure her slightly calloused palm connected with the same spot each time out. The third turned Lenore away in a woozy half circle, so Dare reached out, palmed her shoulder and turned her back to CRAAACK!
Lenore swiveled her neck with vicious backhand and followed up with an equally mean-spirited forehand. The third slap was really more a condescending pat, just something to focus Olivia’s attention when the Raven clasped both hands across the base of her neck. Pulling the blonde close as she stepped forward, Lemarchand pushed off with her right foot and THWHUMPED a high, hard Kneelift into her opponent’s torso. Olivia gasped in shock and pain as the force of it sent her hips thrusting back in a rather undignified fashion. She was in the midst of drawing a deep breath when Lenore came at her again, the curved point of her knee once again THWUMPING into Dare’s washboard abs with the sound of a baseball bat striking wet clay. Blasted back even farther by the follow-up, Olivia collapsed in a weary three point stance with the majority of her weight carried by the kickstand of her right arm.
Above her, a stone-faced Lenore dug her fingers into the Daredevil’s battle-damp hair and murmured, “Stand up, Olivia. I want to make you quit to the body, but I’ll knee you in the face if there’s no other option.”
Olivia took a deep breath and steadied her footing, but made no effort to rise. “You go ahead and do what needs to be done, dear heart. I’ll do the same and we’ll see who--”
Lemarchand blasted a sledgehammer of a Kneelift at the Brit’s skull, good thing Olivia got her forearms up to absorb the worst of the shock. More to the point, she grabbed hold of Lenore’s leg and folded it up under her, stuffing the brunette’s heel into the curve of her own glutes. The American recognized the trap an instant too late and she ‘eeped’ in surprise when Dare rose up and hoisted her off the canvas. The lift wasn’t much but then again it didn’t have to be, just enough for the Oncoming Storm to drop to one knee, thus providing an unpleasant landing for Lenore’s vulnerable shin. Lenore’s groan was cut off by a heavy ‘THWHUD’ when Olivia immediately popped up and bridged back to dump her rival squarely on the back of her head and shoulders with an emphatic Backdrop Suplex.
SHINBREAKER & BACKDROP SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGXNiiqTB2s
Quick to act even though her gut was still churning from those Kneelifts, Olivia crawled over to Lenore’s upturned haunches, palmed her heels in either hand and pushed onto her toes to keep her pinned down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Emily’s Lady in Waiting bucked free and flopped onto her belly, presumably to escape another cover. Dare thought about trying again if only to make the brunette expend more energy in escaping, but her pride had been shaken by those blows to her midsection and she wanted to balance that ledger as quickly as possible. Twining her fingers in Lenore’s hair, she stood up and forced her foe to do the same. From there she swung around on Lemarchand’s six and deftly slung her left leg over the Courtier’s left thigh. Then she dipped, hooked her left arm over Lenore’s right bicep and reefed back to secure the Abdominal Stretch.
“Weren’t very kind to my abs a few minutes ago, were you Lenore?” Olivia’s tone was soft and subtly mean as she settled into one of her favorite holds. “Damned near gutted my like a fish with nothing but your knee. That’s a talent I appreciate, even when I’m on the receiving end.”
“Glad to hear it,” Lemarchand grunted, “because I’m not through kneading the quit into your NGH!”
The Blackbird balled her left hand into a fist and punched Lenore flush in the navel. “Think you’re a little confused on our roles at the moment, luv. When I’ve got you caught like this…” she leaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaned back on the Abdominal Stretch which gave most of the arena an excellent view of Lemarchand’s midsection while causing nothing but problems for said midsection, “…I’m the baker and you’re the mewling lump of pastry dough.”
Lenore shook her head ‘no’ for Al, but saved her words for the Briton. “Mewling? You’ll have to work harder than this to get any mewling from meeeerrrrggggghhh!”
Olivia placed her right hand against the left side of her opponent’s tummy and dragged it across in one swift stroke, a modification of the classic ‘Tiger Claw’ technique that was a staple of English AHW. She followed the first with three more, then ‘SMACKED’ Lenore’s new welts with an open palm to make sure they stung properly. Satisfied by the soft groan heard trapped behind the brunette’s teeth, Dare curved her hand into spade and dug in deep, making sure her index finger gouged into the younger woman’s belly button.
Familiar with what Olivia could do to an undefended tummy with very little time (he’d helped salve Jenny’s welts on more than one occasion after she’d tangled with the Storm), Carpenter didn’t wait long to check on Lemarchand’s condition. “What do you say, Lenore? You hanging in there or have you had enough? If it gets to be too bad, just call out and I’ll--”
“Not necessary.” she answered through gritted teeth. “I’ve been doing crunches with Pandora and claw drills with Collins, Olivia’s fingers will cramp up long before I doAAAAAGGGHHHHH!”
All too aware that it’d be dangerous to give someone as resourceful as Lenore long enough to get accustomed to any given situation, the blonde abandoned her tummy work so she could lean down and take hold of the American’s ankle. This she proceeded to pull up and back, bending the limber gam into a wicked ‘J’ shape that put additional pressure on her abdomen and plant leg.
LEG TRAP ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=esKNh6Vni-M
“It seems you’re caught in a rather elegant snare, my little Raven.” Dare purred after ten long seconds. “And believe me when I tell you, there are so many ways I can punish you from this very position. So think long and hard the next time Algernon asks if you’d like to call it a nighHHEERROOOWW!”
Denied both legs and one arm, Lenore reached over and back with her left hand and took Dare’s right nipple in the pincer of her thumb and forefinger. Olivia grimaced and shook her head ‘no’, more in ‘not good enough, luv’ sort of way than to rebuke any question of submission. After a second or two to steady her breathing, she growled, “Let go, Lenore. Or I’ll remember this when you’re at my mercYGAAAAH!”
The Raven twisted and pulled, stretching the pliant flesh until the Englishwoman released her right leg. Feeling the Abdominal Stretch get the tiniest bit looser, Lemarchand gave the blonde’s nub a final tweak for good measure, then let loose and wrenched her way free of Dare’s clutches. Rather than escape to the ropes or even the floor, Lenore swung around behind the Daredevil and promptly repaid Olivia’s unkindness with an Abdominal Stretch of her own. But where Dare had gone with a more traditional approach, Lemarchand took a page out of the Tennessee Terror’s playbook. With Olivia’s left leg subdued beneath her own, the Fair & Radiant Maiden jerked the blonde’s left arm behind her back with a simple Chickenwing, then snaked her right arm over Olivia’s chin and pulled back, bending her neck courtesy of an unpleasant Inverted Facelock.
Harley Jo called it ‘Nothin’ Fancy’ and that was true enough but it was also hellaciously painful, as Dare could attest at that moment. Walking a careful line, Lemarchand made sure Olivia carried most of her weight while also enduring the heaviest possible strain on her lissome frame. “Told you I’d been watching lots of tape.” Lenore reminded the wriggling blonde once her breathing smoothed out. “I was quite impressed by how your countrywomen could hold the politest conversations while trying to rip each other’s hair out in handfuls. And the humiliations! God, they’re so much more elegant than over here! I especially like the one where the aggressor twists her opponent into some sort of hideous knot, then--” she leaned down and pecked a line of three quick kisses up the right side of Olivia’s exposed neck, “gives them a kiss to remind them how helpless they are.”
Olivia growled low in the back of her throat, the normally icy grappler genuinely angry for the first time since the bell sounded. “Enjoy it now, pretty bird. Helplessness is something I never tolerate for very lonNNNNGGHH!”
Lenore jerked back on the Inverted Facelock and dropped her hips a little lower, thus increasing the pressure on her bound adversary. “Oh, I think you’re going to tolerate this for quite a bit longer, ‘Liv. Just be grateful I decided not to pull your top out of the way before I hooked your head and armMMMRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Dare curled her left hand into a claw, snugged a few fingers into the pit of her attacker’s left knee and dug in, trying to force a crack in the otherwise seamless defenses of the Abdominal Stretch. “Gonna have to do better than that, Daredevil,” Lenore taunted through a pained sneer, “I’ve still got your neck and your OOOFFFHH!” She was about to say ‘arm’ when Dare tore free of the Chickenwing and immediately slammed her elbow into the American’s ribs.
Squirming around until Lemarchand was forced to switch the Inverted Facelock to a more manageable Sleeper, Olivia hit full reverse, driving the both of them into a far corner where Lenore hit with a low BWUUUNG! Sucking wind as she finally broke entirely loose, Dare snagged the top rope for leverage, then pulled her hips forward and thrust them back, just THUMPING the medicine ball curve of her buttocks into the pit of the brunette’s stomach. “Told’ya luv,” she rasped to the gaping Yank, “I’m never helpless for lonNNNNGGHHH!”
Lenore put a hand over her forehead, twisted in and drilled a European Uppercut across the back of her skull. Knocked forward by the unexpected shot, Olivia would’ve gone to all fours if the Raven hadn’t chased her down and snatched a handful of black waistband. Reeling her back into a grinding Waistlock, Lenore set her feet, dropped her hips and popped ‘em hard to toss the Blackbird up, over and back with a German Suplex that BWUUUNG-THUMPED her spine-first against the top turnbuckle.
TURNBUCKLE GERMAN SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9009YhVXVqI
Mouth dropped open in silent agony, Olivia slung a drunken arm over the top rope to make sure she didn’t plop down into prime Stink Face’ing territory. Moving like someone who’d just escaped a car accident, Dare stumbled away from the corner but only made it a few steps before Lenore caught up. The Courtier secured a Half Nelson and a Chickenwing right after the other, the pair of simple holds completely neutralizing Olivia’s usually dangerous arms. With the blonde’s legs in no condition to keep her rooted to anything, Lemarchand crouched and peeled off yet another bridge, this one THUNKING the Blackbird squarely on the back of her head and shoulders. Folded in half by a move her own partner popularized as the Soubrette-Plex, Olivia showed few signs of life while Carpenter swooped in to count…
STOLEN SOUBRETTE-PLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FnQrHnkN7eM
ONE…
TWO….
THRNOOOO!
She kicked free and flopped over onto her stomach with a good half second to spare. Not about to give the notoriously durable bendy any sort of breathing room, Lenore shoveled Olivia onto her back, climbed aboard her waist and proceeded to split her stems to bursting with a Double Leg Grapevine. Gripping the Englishwoman’s shoulders in either hand, Lemarchand pressed them against the mat in hopes of holding her down through…
ONE…
TWO…
Olivia slipped her shoulders free and CLAPPED a hard slap across Lenore’s cheek to boot, yet it wasn’t enough to free her stems from the Grapevine and after a bit of hand-fighting the brunette seized her opponent’s wrists. Slamming them to the canvas with a bit more force than necessary, Lemarchand forced her hips down against Dare’s gulping tummy and streeeeeeeeetched her legs that much wider to earn a little grimace of pain from the blonde.
“Don’t even think about trying to count her down, Carpenter.” she said without taking her eyes from Olivia’s. “We all know she’d get a shoulder up and frankly, pinning her would be too easy. I’d much rather show this sweet girl who’s legs are stronger.”
Smiling ever so slightly, she cranked Dare’s gams a little wider still and thrust her hips against blonde belly with a soft, heavy ‘smeck’. Dare grimaced and made some microadjustments but nothing more. It’d been a long time since she’d tangled with someone who’s legs rivaled hers and she wasn’t about to risk pulled hamstrings with angry bucking. That said, she wasn’t going to let Lemarchand stretch her uncontested, so she set her heels as best she could and inched her legs a little closer together. “I hope you’re here for the long game, luv.” Dare told the American. “Because these are the legs that have submitted every so called Destroyer in this promotion. Even from down here I’ve got enough power to snap you like a wishbo--”
Lenore shifted down a bit and pressed her hips to Olivia’s, their respective lycra’s making a quiet sliding sound as they met. That oh so subtle grind raised a lascivious roar from the crowd, forcing Lemarchand to speak louder than she would’ve liked. “You CAN be beaten leg to leg, ‘Liv. I saw Portia do it. It didn’t, ahem, come easy, and it was far tawdrier than I’d prefer to work, but she DID make you quit. Made you scream, in fact. And if I may speak boldly, anything that bytch can do,” Lenore forced her hips down and pressed hard enough to make Olivia curl her upper lip in a hateful snarl, “I can do better. So tell me, would you rather give in to the stretch… or the grind?” Lemarchand treated Olivia to a little bit of both and the crowd grew that much louder.
Dare on the other hand kept her response soft and almost non-threatening. “I’ll only warn you once, pretty bird. Take one more step down this path and I won’t just beat you. I’ll use you up and throw you away like a two-shilling doxie. Are we clear?” Lenore regarded her for a moment, then raised her hips and slid north to once again press down on the Briton’s tummy. Then she sent another jolt through the Grapevine and while Olivia dealt with that she brought the blonde’s wrists together so she could control them with one hand.
Alarmed, Dare started to twist and writhe, she absolutely did not want the Raven to have a hand free. Too late though, Lemarchand snugged Olivia’s jaw-line in the curve of her thumb and forefinger and said, “Warning acknowledged. Tell me, are you too delicate for this sort of treatment…” she released Dare’s face, reached back and clamped a stiff grip on the Blackbird’s trunks, “… or can you handle a little clawing?”
The blonde sucked in a sharp breath, it was the furthest thing from pleasant and more than a little humiliating, but Lemarchand made no moves to get under her togs and so she’d tolerate it just long enough to turn the tables. Forcing her lips into a nonchalant smile, Olivia purred, “Were you going to start clawing sometime? Or are you just teasinNNNGGGGHHHHH!”
Lenore squeezed the Claw and stretched the Grapevine, an ungodly combination that made even the seasoned Apartment Wrestler groan in pain. Up top, Lemarchand steadily increased the pressure on both holds in the hopes of getting a submission before the faint tingle in her own legs grew into cramps that would force her to abandon the Grapevine. Ravaging Olivia’s undercarriage while working very hard to keep her straining wrists together, Lenore slammed her hips into the flattened woman’s tummy and demanded, “Submit!”
“Stuff it, skagger!” Dare rasped, the hurt in her voice an able illustration of the effectiveness of her foe’s grip. “You’re not strong enough to get anything from MEEGGHHHHHH!”
Lemarchand slid a little bit higher still and pressed the flat plank of her midriff into Olivia’s face. The shift meant she couldn’t maintain the claw as before, so she took possession of the Englishwoman’s waistband and pulled it up in vindictive front wedgie. “She’s helpless!” the Fair & Radiant Maiden barked. “Count her down!”
Quick to act after playing spectator for the last couple of minutes, Al slid into place beside them and counted…
ONE…
TWO…
Olivia rolled to call the ref off, but Lemarchand pressed her flat immediately thereafter, the determined Courtier bracing her own forehead against the canvas to keep the squirming former World Champion down for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Olivia bucked her again so Lenore readjusted and treated her to a third faceful of tummy. “Getting closer, ‘Liv,” she huffed. “closer all the time.” True enough, Al checked the blonde’s shoulders, then counted off…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
The Oncoming Storm bit down on her foe’s aggressive abdominals and Lenore jerked free of her own volition, saving Dare with half a tick to go. Angered by what she took as an egregious breach of etiquette, Lenore stopped tugging on the blonde’s waistband so she could double down on the Wristlocks again. Sliding back down so they were nose to nose, Lemarchand snarled, “I keep my talon out of your trunks and you repay me with teeth? That’s going to cost you dearly, sweet giRNNNNGGGHHHH!”
Lenore’s fury had drawn her that much closer to the Briton and Dare made her pay for the lapse with a short, strong Headbutt across the bridge of the nose. A second shot between the eyes allowed ‘Liv to wrench one leg loose, the knee of which she promptly slotted between Lenore’s thighs as forcefully as possible. Lemarchand gasped and started to roll clear, so Dare gave her an extra little push to make sure the brunette ended up on her tummy.
So eager for vengeance she was practically thrumming, Olivia climbed aboard her rival’s back and stretched out like the gut-shot battler was the world’s most luxurious feather bed. Securing her mount with movements that looked simultaneously languid and quick, Dare hooked her ankles under Lenore’s and stretched them well beyond forty-five degrees with a single yank. In the same motion she slipped her hands under the brunette’s armpits, laced them across her chin and pulled back sharply. With the Dare Snare finally complete, Olivia sighed, turned her head to one side and winked to the hard camera. ‘Feisty.” she mouthed.
Beneath her, Lenore pulled at the Chinlock, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on her neck and chin. Dare let her try but she pulled back a little harder or worked the Grapevine a little wider anytime it looked like the Raven might gain some ground. Confident in her ability to keep the younger woman under control, Olivia leaned forward and planted a kiss on the top of Lemarchand’s noggin, another of those timeless UK AHW embarrassments.
“Things were a bit dodgy there for a moment, but now it’s all back in proper order, wouldn’t you say, Lenore?” she purred. “You’ve certainly got better legs than most, unfortunately for you I am not most. I am the longest reigning World Champion in FAWN history and when I say you’re going to submit to my legs, you will bloody well submit to my legs!”
Olivia tightened the screws by wrenching them wide, a violently sudden wishbone that sent fire licking up and down Lemarchand’s thighs. Well and truly ‘snared’, Lenore grabbed the Englishwoman’s wrists in an effort to wrest free of the Chinlock and only got another hard yank for her efforts.
Hearing the hurt in the trapped battler’s groan, Al went down on his haunches and asked,” What do you say, Lenore? Want to give it up?”
She didn’t bother with words or even a waggled finger, just an irritated, incredulous glare that told the zebra everything he needed to know. Pleased to wear down the upstart while simultaneously replenishing her own reserves, Olivia jiggled the Chinlock up n’ down, putting a series of tiny kinks in the brunette’s neck. And of course there was the Grapevine, which had rendered Lemarchand’s otherwise dangerous legs a non-issue, at least for the moment. Once she’d settled her own nerves and given the American a chance to realize she wasn’t going anywhere Dare didn’t damned well want her to go, the blonde snuggled in that much closer and murmured, “You may not want to give up now, but that’s because I’m still playing nice. After the pain you’ve put me through, I’m inclined to not play nice for much longer. Especially when there’s so many ways to torture you from this very position.”
Lenore knew the Oncoming Storm was telling the truth and she had no desire to experience even a fraction of Olivia’s chamber of horrors, but she wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of showing fear. So after a moment’s energetic wriggling did nothing to loosen Dare’s bonds or get her any closer to the ropes, Lemarchand made a simple challenge. “Do your worst, you mouthy bytch.”
Olivia grinned in the wake of this brunette defiance, it’d been far too long since she’d faced an opponent so much like herself. Relishing the opportunity to establish type superiority, she purred, “Oh, I intend to, pretty bird. But where to start? Do I pinch your nose shut?” She shifted the Chinlock up, caught Lemarchand’s nostrils between thumb and forefinger and crushed them closed.
Denied air, Lenore didn’t panic, she did however work to wiggle her head loose. No dice, Olivia’s hands stayed glued in place until the blonde murmured, “Or should I simply tear it off?” With that she hooked her index and middle fingers into the Courtier’s nostrils and pulled back, a vicious tactic if ever there was one. “Oh, what a delightful sound!” Dare said of the nasal whine forced from her foe’s lips. “Lets not neglect that lovely mouth while we’re thinking about it.” Lemarchand clenched her teeth in hopes of avoiding whatever came next, alas the tines in her nose made silence an impossibility and she couldn’t stop Olivia from slipping three fingers into the side of her mouth.
A savage fishhooking earned a warning from Carpenter and while there was some comfort in knowing the vindictive Brit would release it before ‘FOUR!’ it still meant there were several seconds of suffering to endure, which was more than enough time for Olivia to murmur, “Ready to give it up, little girl? Or can I keep playing with your face?”
By way of answer the Fair & Radiant Maiden grabbed the wrist of the hand attacking her nose and squeezed until she felt bones grind. Wincing despite her domineering position, Dare pulled her other claw from Lenore’s mouth, grabbed hold of her hair and THUNKED her forehead into the mat. That freed her other hand, so she doubled down on the back of Lemarchand’s noggin and proceeded to make her wail with several seconds of overenthusiastic scrubbing. Even blind and stretched, the brunette managed to bury her hands in the Daredevil’s hair and the strength of her pulling forced Olivia to BWUNK her face against the mat once, twice three times.
“Enough with the hair, that goes for both of you!” Al told the panting ladies. “Olivia, you can stretch her all you want, but no more of that face ripping crap, you hear me?” Lenore, keep out of her hair!”
Lemarchand was too busy checking her abraded features to reply, Olivia on the other hand was quick to say, “Not to worry, sir. I’m done clawing at this pretty little bird.” Then she leaned in, brushed her lips against Lenore’s ear and added, “The humiliation, however, is just getting started.”
True to word she arched her hips and thrust them into Lenore’s glutes with a loud SMACK that was utterly lost in the thunderous roar of the FAWNatics. Lenore’s face, which was already flushed pink after the scrubbing she’d endured, deepened to full red as Dare continued to demonstrate her total control in the most domineering way possible. Breathing deep to keep the furious screams locked deep inside, the Raven growled, “Enjoy my ass all you’d like, ‘Liv. It’ll enjoy your nose before I leave this rinNNGGHH!”
Olivia rammed her rival’s taut tush one more time and grrrrrrooooound against it, much to the delight of everyone not named Lenore Lemarchand. “That’s a vivid imagination you have, dear. Perhaps you can use it to leave the ring believing I didn’t embarrass you in front of the whole EEERRRGGGHH!”
Lenore stopped worrying at the Chinlock and RAKED her fingers across the Brit’s eyes in a blindside swipe that was as effective as it was lucky. Yelping as the world went blurry, Olivia tried to regain the Snare, but Lemarchand finally got her arms free and she jammed an elbow into the blonde’s chin. Dare grunted and rolled one way while Lenore crawled in the other. She didn’t go all the way to the ropes, she did however create enough distance to take a few deep breath and check on her stinging features before clambering to boot leather.
Fully expecting Olivia to be on her feet already, Lenore was delighted to find the blonde still on one knee, rubbing at her stinging eyes. Stomping across the stretch of canvas, she drew her left arm back and whistled softly. Dare turned toward her without thinking and Lemarchand CRAAAACKED her across the cheek with a Bytch Slap that spun the startled Blackbird to all fours.
In the next instant she put a foot against the Englishwoman’s buns and stamped down, forcing her flat against the canvas. Hands on her hips, she shouted over the din, “KEEP THAT BONY ASS WHERE IT BELONGS. RIGHT UNDER MY FOOT.”
Olivia jerked free at once and scrambled up, a furious look on her pretty face. “Slapping my face when I was blind was cheap enough. Disparaging a clearly superior arse is just poor form. I’ll see that you pay for that, pretty bird.”
Lenore flipped some battle sweaty hair out of her face, then pointed to Olivia. Turning her hand over, she summoned the former World Champion forward with one beckoning finger. “You’ve worked up a pretty big tab too, sweet girl. You wanna settle up? I’m waiting right here… in the middle of MY ring.”
Dare shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, Lenore. When this is over I’m going to take the time to explain everything that is wrong with that sentence. But first…”
The Oncoming Storm rolled in and TWHAPPED a stiff Forearm Smash against her opponent’s chest. Lenore staggered, set her feet and returned fire with a shot that hit directly across the swell of Olivia’s modest bust. After the initial exchange their pace grew all the faster, neither woman bothering to assess their own condition before unleashing their next attack. Indeed, it quickly became too much hassle to exchange blows, so blonde and brunette hooked a hand across the back of her foe’s neck to keep them anchored in place while she thwhap-thwhap-THWHAPPED an increasingly swift stream of blows into chest and chin.
What looked to be a remarkably frenetic stalemate broke wide open when Olivia shifted angles and took Lenore under the chin with her stiffest European Uppercut yet. Rocked back on her heels, Lemarchand slopped sideways into the ropes and bounced out looking like a soft breeze might knock her down. Olivia had something far stronger in mind, so she sprinted at the tottering American and-- Lenore lunged, caught Olivia around the waist with a Gutwrench and hoisted her through a breathtaking 270-degree spin that ended with the Raven dropping to one knee and Dare landing atop it with a sickening THWHUMP! Shoving Olivia loose while the blonde was still paralyzed by the surprise Backbreaker, Lemarchand stretched out across her chest in a Lateral Press and hooked the far leg for…
TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_zleJLm3vg
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Dare kicked loose and rolled toward Lenore, so as not to immediately present her throbbing back to the Black Courtier. A wise move, unfortunately the length of the match and her desire to best the former World Champion had done nothing to dull the brunette’s instincts and she shoveled Olivia to her other side so she could pwak-pwakPWAK! a half dozen Forearm Smashes against the small of her back. Going for Dare’s locks only when the Briton rolled to all fours, Lenore hauled her upright with a few brisk tugs and quickly switched over to a Wristlock.
The Irish Whip sent Olivia barreling to the strands and back to her foe, who greeted her with open arms in the worst way imaginable. Bent almost double, Lemarchand snagged her right arm around Dare’s waist and snaked the left across her calves. Then she bundled the wounded Blackbird under her arm, pushed onto her tiptoes and sat out to THWHUNK Olivia flush on the back of her head and shoulders via a sheer-drop Sidewalk Slam. Still holding Dare’s legs trapped in one arm, Lemarchand doubled down on her coil and leaned waaaaaaaaaaaay back, putting all sorts of pressure on her foe’s tenderized vertebrae while Carpenter counted…
SHEER -DROP SIDEWALK SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BoK31J-RRAs
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Olivia kicked out, albeit a little slower than before, a detail that wasn’t lost on the Fair & Radiant Maiden. “I’m not out to hurt you, Dare.” she huffed while dragging the weary blonde to her knees. “But you will know you’ve been in a fight. And you’ll show me the respect I’ve earned.” A Kneelift doubled Olivia over and made her a prime candidate for the Standing Headscissors Lemarchand slipped over her ears. Part of her was sorely tempted to just squeeze a surrender from Dare on the spot and she did in fact treat the Oncoming Storm to a constriction that made her gasp in pain, but Lenore was still angry about having her ass ground like the pole in a strip club so she wrapped both arms around Dare’s waist and squeezed tight. Trap set, she whipped Olivia onto her shoulders and stomped to the nearest corner where she hurled her burden against top turnbuckle spine-first.
TURNBUCKLE POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNF7M6Swglw
The FAWNatics groaned alongside the suffering Englishwoman, but whereas they came to their feet she collapsed to her knees like a penitent in front of the Raven. Far from merciful, Lemarchand reeled her into another Standing Headscissors / Waistlock combination. The set-up was mere heartbeats old when Lenore swung the blonde up, not into a traditional Powerbomb stall, but one that saw both of Dare’s legs draped down the American’s right shoulder. Caught in the unenviable position, Olivia could only close her eyes and brace for impact when Lemarchand spun in a half circle and dropped to her knees, all the better to THWHUNK her opponent flat on her brutalized back.
OVER THE SHOULDER POWERBOMB HOLD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ESnQdby5dM
Tenacious as ever with that Waistlock, Lenore skidded forward until Olivia’s ankles were up around her ears and her shoulders were most definitely flat. Quick to act in spite of his cringing reaction to that last Powerbomb, Al swooped in to toll off…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Olivia didn’t kick out so much as she did slosh onto her tummy, the usually lissome battler looking like a common dishrag after Lenore’s latest savage salvo. That said, the match was still going and Lemarchand wasn’t about to let up, even if Dare’s reserves were nothing but dregs. That’s why she seized the Daredevil’s left wrist in both hands and started hauling her to boot leather in a series of harsh tugs. “You’re gonna have to learn to stay down, ‘Liv. Keep going at this rate and you’ll never make it through all five matches.”
Olivia just moaned and tried to pull her hand loose, but it was a weak effort and Lemarchand held firm. Soon as the Briton was upright Lenore jerked her forward into a simple Shoulderblock that knocked Olivia back on her heels. With Dare reeling at arms length, Lenore charged forward and dropped into a nimble baseball slide that took her between Olivia’s legs. Springing to her feet with Dare’s left wrist still firmly in her possession, Lenore stepped around and swung her left leg over the blonde’s head.
The Storm Chasers had grown steadily quieter since the Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker but now they roared back with a vengeance, the throng desperately trying to will their heroine an escape hatch from the Nevermore. Lemarchand ignored them entirely, the whole of her attention was devoted to Olivia’s right wrist, which was the last piece of this diabolical puzzle. Reaching through her foe’s splayed stems, Lenore grabbed her prize and pulled it back the way she’d came, thus completing the Double Pumphandle. Finally taking a moment to enjoy the fruits of her labors, the Raven flipped hair off her face and looked out at the crowd.
“Good as this was, it was just prologue. Remember that.”
Then she crouched the tiniest bit and jerked up as hard as she could, the momentum more than enough to lift / spin Olivia up and out into the freefall faceplant that would-- ‘OOOOHHHHHHHH!’ Incredulous cheers from the FAWNatics as Dare wrenched loose of the brunette’s clasp and landed on her feet while Lemarchand dropped to her butt with a dull ‘thump’. Wide-eyed with shock, Lenore scrambled to one knee and THWHUNK! Olivia pistoned forward and damned near murdered the brunette’s forehead with a Kneelift to the forehead.
Lenore crumpled forward onto her hands and knees, where she stayed while Dare spun around in a half circle. Backing up so the base of Lemarchand’s neck was pressed against her tush, Olivia reached down and hooked her arms around the Courtier’s biceps. Just like that she leaned forward and twisted around, a move that pulled Lenore to her feet and allowed the Englishwoman to stick her head between American stems. Looking for all the world like she was about to cadge an MDKristy, Olivia straightened up, then caught Lemarchand around the shins and dropped back into a gorgeous bridge that THWHUMPED the brunette square on the back of her head and shoulders. Using exhaustion to her benefit, Olivia pushed onto her toes and leaaaaaaaned back into her foe’s upturned haunches in the hopes of keeping her down for the…
REVERSE GORY SPECIAL BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijOBOhpC5wI
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Lenore shrugged her away and turned to one side, but the bell had already sounded. There was a lump in her throat and a knot in her stomach when the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… OLIVIA DARE!”
A short distance away, Olivia clambered to her feet and let Carpenter raise one hand high. Honing in on a ‘STORM WARNING!’ sign that spanned most of a row, she lifted an index finger and mouthed, ‘That’s one.’ She saluted two other sides of the arena before the final turn brought her face to face with a solemn-faced Lenore Lemarchand. Given the Court’s penchant for after the bell theatrics, Dare readied herself for anything and was mildly surprised when the brunette said, “I’m not going to say you got lucky, because we both know it’s not true. But I will tell you that’s not going to happen again. I can beat you, Olivia. I believed that coming in, now I know. You do too.”
“Knowing and proving are two different things, Lenore. And until you do both, neither matter in the slightest. That said, I look forward to seeing you try.” She extended a hand, just as she’d done at the start of the match. Lemarchand accepted the gesture, which pleased the crowd a great deal.
“You’re not going to have to wait long. February will be here before you know it. This is the last time I play catch up, Olivia.” Done with words for the time being, the Raven dropped Dare’s hand, slipped through the ropes and went up the ramp with her head bowed, not in defeat, but the deep concentration of someone going over every little detail of recent events.
Olivia watched her until she disappeared through the curtain, just to make sure Lemarchand didn’t try anything untoward. When no attack came, she headed to the corner nearest the hard camera and mounted the second turnbuckle. “The scoreboard says Blackbird: one, Raven: nothing!” she told the crowd. “And that’s the closest it’s ever going to get! Mark my words, I’ll run this score up as high as it’ll go!”
Kula Shaker’s cover of ‘Hush’ came on strong, causing several flocks of handmade ’Ravens’ to take to the skies, Lemarchand’s ever growing number of supporters slowly but surely gaining ground on all the boos. Those fans also offered up a rousing cheer when their dark eyed anti-heroine strode into view shortly thereafter. Smiling the tiniest bit, Lenore hooked her thumbs together and raised a Raven of her own overhead. When a nearby cameraman pulled in for a closer look she tipped it a smirk and noted, “Better not take your eyes off the screen, people. Because I’m about to steal this show.”
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
For her first match with one of FAWN’s most domineering champions in recent memory, Emily West’s lady in waiting wore deep purple boy-cut trunks and matching halter-style bikini top. Her elbow and kneepads were matte black, though the presence of the latter was a mystery as they were covered by bell-flared 'leggings' that started just south of mid-thigh and dropped to ankle length. The look was finished with shiny black boots and purple wrist tape that matched her togs.
Starting down the aisle as soon as she dropped her hands, Lenore was as dismissive as ever to those who dared boo her tactics, though it was worth noting she did pause for just a moment to acknowledge a fan holding an expertly rendered charcoal drawing of the brunette with her namesake bird perched on one shoulder. After that she took the steps at a brisk pace, hopped over the top rope and immediately mounted the second buckle of the nearest corner. Eyes locked on the stage, Lenore Lemarchand didn’t say a word, but everyone knew she was begging a certain Englishwoman to come through the curtain.
Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long.
The Raven’s anthem had only just faded from hearing when the Announcer continued, “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Richmond, England, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and fifteen pounds. She is the Oncoming Storm, this is… OLIVIA DARE!"
The Season’s Beatings crowd burst into thunderous roars when the sound system offered up the languid, somehow dangerous drumbeat of Hooverphonic’s ‘2Wicky’. A deluge already, the noise swelled past Category Five when the lissome Brit stunner flitted through the curtain and stopped atop the stage to greet her followers.
OLIVIA DARE:
For the first of what could be as many as five battles with the Black Court’s Rook, Dare wore a pair of stormy black bikini briefs edged with silver trim and cut high enough to give the throng a tantalizing view of her sculpted hips, thighs and calves. Her equally exquisite midriff sheathed in a matching black bustier and the rest of her ensemble was finished with short black wrestling shoes and silver knee and elbow pads.
Oh so eager to defend her spot against this woman who was so like herself, Olivia started down the ramp with her eyes boring through Lenore. More than willing to hold onto this silent staring contest the whole way to the squared circle, Olivia only broke it off when she saw a sign that read:
RAVENS CAN’T BRAVE ONE STORM, LET ALONE FIVE!
“She’s gonna have to face at least three.“ Dare told the camera with a small smile. “Of course she might beg off after five minutes, guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” Returning her attention to the challenge at hand, she made her way up the steps but made no move to enter because Lenore was still staring down from her perch on the second buckle.
Neither woman showed any sign of backing down, so referee Al Carpenter moved in after several seconds and patted Lemarchand on the side. “Go to your corner, Lenore, I need to check your pads and boots.“ She didn’t seem too thrilled by the prospect, but the brunette hopped down after another three seconds and stalked to the other side of the ring.
Now that she had the proper personal space, Olivia strutted up the steps and onto the apron where she turned her back to the strands. Arms looped over the rubber-coated steel, she dipped her knees and tumbled back, the former World Champion landing on her feet with no discernible effort. Spinning around on her heel, Olivia strutted to the middle of the ring and raised two fists to the rafters. Then she looked to Lenore and raised an index finger. “First blood sets the tone, luv. And I mean to take it fivefold before I’m done with you.”
The bell sounded and both women left their corners at once, not charging the center but certainly not taking their time either. Considering the directness of her opponent’s challenge, Olivia didn’t bother to circle, she merely raised her hands to shoulder level and leaned forward in a springy-limbed grappler’s crouch. Lenore joined her an instant thereafter and in what would be the first of several surprises in the next several minutes, Dare offered her hand. Perhaps more surprising, the Raven took it without so much as a sniff or a smirk.
“Best of five series is something else, Lenore.” the Englishwoman said softly. “The kind of thing that can make or break careers. You sure you’re ready for that?”
Lemarchand smiled ever so faintly and Dare knew the answer before her lips moved. “I’ve been working toward this day since the moment Emily offered me a job. The question is Olivia, are you ready for me?”
Olivia matched the smile with one of her own and beckoned her fingers invitingly. “You’ll have to lock up with me to find out, luv.”
Lenore obliged her without hesitation, the whip-strong brunette pushing in to catch the equally bendy blonde in a forceful Collar & Elbow Lock-Up. Their first skirmish was strong, though hardly furious, more a subtle testing of power than a violent shoving match. As the initiator Lemarchand had marginally better momentum and she pushed her foe back a step or two before Olivia stopped her momentum by dropping to one knee. A moment thereafter the Oncoming Storm rose up and forced Lenore to give up what little she’d earned and then some, but what might’ve been a full fledged march to the corner against a less disciplined opponent came to an abrupt halt when Lemarchand repeated the Brit’s penitent tactic. Feeling absolutely no inclination to break the clinch, Lenore rose to her full height and made like she was about to resume shoving when she slipped an arm around the back of Dare’s neck and reeled her into a tight Side Headlock.
“Get used to this, Olivia.” the brunette advised while compressing Dare’s cheek against the modest swell of her chest, “your head feels like it was designed to fit right there.”
Olivia didn’t respond with words, rather one hand was pressed to the small of the American’s back and the other worried at the knot of Lenore’s hands. Finding the grip too sturdy to break with sheer force, Olivia leaned into Lemarchand’s torso, then raised her right foot and snugged it against the other woman’s left shin and pressed down. That relatively minor exertion forced Lenore to one knee and while it didn’t break the Headlock outright it allowed the Blackbird to sidle around behind and-- a small burst of applause from the mat wrestling fans in attendance as Olivia slipped free, captured Lenore’s left wrist and pinned it up between her shoulders with a Hammerlock.
Lenore grimaced and patted her stinging shoulder for a moment, then reached back, attempting to get a hold of Olivia’s head. Dare pulled clear but her shifting allowed Lemarchand to regain her feet. Flashing a warning glance to Carpenter when it looked like he might ask a stupid question, the Raven took a few steps toward the ropes only to stop when Olivia jerked up on her pinioned arm.
“That’s the lazy way out, girl.” the Brit explained. “You want your arm back? You’ll have to take it from--” Lenore shifted a bit, reached back with her free arm and hooked it under Dare’s left bicep. Pulling up freed the Courtier from the Hammerlock and allowed her to swing around into a basic Wristlock. With wrist in one hand and bicep in the other, Lenore laid out and tossed Olivia to the canvas with an Armdrag of the most basic variety around. She still had control of Dare’s wrist and the Raven meant to make the most of it, alas, Olivia wasn’t nearly so generous and she somersaulted off her back to alleviate the pressure and return to boot leather.
“Not bad at all,” Lenore said of the blonde’s efforts, “still got your wrist though.” She bent Olivia’s hand back toward her elbow to prove it.
Olivia’s brief grimace of pain quickly blossomed into a smirk. “So you do. I wonder how long you’ll be able to keep it?” Lenore didn’t get to answer before the former FAWN World Champ dropped into another somersault, popped to her feet and reversed the torque on the Arm Wringer as neat as you please. Positioning herself behind Lenore’s outstretched wing, Dare halved the Wristlock to put her right hand against the Fair & Radiant Maiden’s left shoulder. From there she pushed down hard, the pressure of it forcing Lenore to the mat on her tummy with Olivia in full control of her arm.
“I can see you thinking about those ropes. Best not to think about them until absolutely necessary. Pretend it’s Pure Rul--”
Lenore pushed to one knee, tucked her free arm against her chest and tumbled over onto her back to negate the joint-lock without actually escaping it. Getting to her feet wasn’t hard after that, there was however the nagging question of her trapped arm. Seeking technique over brute force, she cupped Olivia’s chin in the palm of her right hand and pushed forward, straining the Englishwoman’s neck at an awkward angle. Olivia muttered, twisted her way free after a few seconds work. “Careful where you put your hands, Raven. Anything you stick near a girl’s mouth is liable to get bittOOFH!”
Lemarchand pounded a single punch into Olivia’s washboard abs and capitalized on the surprise of it by taking control of the Arm Wringer. Quickly coming to realize that she’d have to fight this match in as close a quarters as she could manage, Lemarchand segued into a Hammerlock of her own and pushed onto her toes, forcing Dare to do the same. “I’ve studied the tapes, Olivia, I know all the dirty little tricks you Brits pull out to win ‘legit’ wrestling matches. You want to bite, go ahead. Just know this. I bite back. I pinch too.”
Dare smirked through the twinge in her shoulder. “Oooohhh, that’s good to know. Just when I thought this was going to be borRRGGHH!”
Lenore cranked up again and this time it was the Brit taking a few steps toward the ropes. “Believe me sweet girl,” the brunette murmured, “this will be plenty of things, but boring isn’t one of th--”
Olivia hooked her left foot around into the pit of the Raven’s left knee and pushed down, forcing Lenore to kneel. Soon as she had the measure of things Dare stretched out flat as she could and rolled backward onto her knees. With the Hammerlock transformed into a harmless wrist grip, the Daredevil pulled Lemarchand in close and wrapped her free arm around the brunette’s head. Locking her hands as soon as she had Lemarchand’s pate under control, Olivia laid out on her tummy and pushed onto her toes, forcing the prone battler to carry her weight.
“How’s the canvas look from that angle, honey?” Dare chided while pulling up on the Facelock. “If you’re getting tired of it you could always tap--oh no, not that easy!” Lemarchand tried to twist her way out so Olivia twisted with her, an impromptu gator roll that brought the ladies pretty close to the ropes before they spiraled back the way they’d came. Knees splayed wide, Dare pushed up and bore down with all her weight to force Lenore’s forehead into the mat. “Five matches, dear heart. You asked for five matches and this is just the first. This is just the BEGINNING of the first. So I ask you again, are you sure you’re ready for NNNNGGGHHH!”
Lemarchand twisted loose (at the cost of a good scrape on her forehead) and promptly slapped on a Chancery of her own. “I didn’t challenge you because I wanted easy.” Lenore jostled her grip, chafing the trapped lovely’s ears. “I did it because I wanted to test myself against the best. And test her in return.” Case in point, she cupped her hands under the Englishwoman’s chin, then put her forehead against the mat and flipped forward to land on the tips of her toes, a low limber bridge that wrenched Olivia’s neck back at a sharp angle. Hands braced flat against the mat, Olivia shook her head ‘no’ when Al asked if she wanted to quit, not too forcefully though, as doing so exacerbated the pain in her neck.
Beside her, Lenore pushed up on her toes and jostled the Chinlock, looking for any sign of real distress in the former World Champion. Not seeing any, she pulled a bit harder, then asked, “Ready to give it up, ‘Livy?”
Dare snorted in spite of the pain. “Would you really want me to, Lenny?”
“Most certainly not. Still, if you insist on staying trapped I’ll have to make your stay that much more unpleasRRRGGGHHH!”
The Oncoming Storm reached over with her right hand splayed wide, laid it atop Lemarchand’s face and simultaneously squeezed and pushed, forcing her palm into the brunette’s nose while gouging into her temples. Lenore was forced to break her grip after only a few seconds, which allowed Olivia to regain control of the situation with a grounded Headlock. Taking the time to grrrrrrrriiiind the Raven’s ears in the vise of her bicep and forearm, Dare got to her feet, dragged Lemarchand up alongside, then popped her hips and slung the other bendy up, over and down with a throw that was equal parts Headlock Takedown and Hip Toss.
Olivia didn’t maintain her grip on Lenore’s head through the descent so she was free to roll clear, which she did while the canvas was still thrumming. Pushing to one knee within heartbeats of one another, blonde and brunette took a moment to adjust their togs and enjoy the loud ‘THIS IS WRESTLING!’ chant that’d broken out during the finale of their first exchange.
On her feet shortly thereafter, Olivia started to circle, though she didn’t close until Lenore returned to verticality too. Eyes alight, the Englishwoman raised curled fingers and said. “Excellent opening salvo, pretty bird. Are you ready for another?”
Lenore ‘snapped’ her waistband against her hips and nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, English.”
“Mind if I lead?”
“You’re welcome to tr--”
‘Try’ didn’t get all the way off her lips because Dare darted in and curled her left arm around the back of the American’s head. Jerking her down in the same motion, Olivia twisted into Lenore and brought her right arm slashing up in a European Uppercut that THWAPPED her fellow bendy’s chin. Lemarchand rocked back on her heels and staggered hard, one hand flying to her aching jaw. Though her legs looked brittle for a moment she didn’t go down, which both pleased and irritated the Blackbird.
When she’d steadied out, Lenore dropped her hand and gave Olivia a baleful look. “I guess we’re not wrestling anymore. What’s the matter, afraid I might embarrass you?”
Dare grinned wide, reached up with an index finger and tapped her chin. “What’s the matter, afraid you don’t hit as hard as little olOOOOFFFFFHHHH!”
Lenore stormed in all right but instead of retaliating with a European Uppercut of her own she reared back and THWHAPPED her left forearm full force into Olivia’s chest. Certain she could walk it off, Dare stamped around in a tight little circle until her breathing returned to normal a few seconds later. “My Uppercuts are special, honey.” Lemarchand explained with a sly smile. “You’ll get one when I want you to have one. Until then, just set your feet and try to keep NNNNNGGGHHH!”
Olivia checked Lenore’s chin with a second European Uppercut that sent her shambling toward the ropes. “Shouldn’t be greedy, little bird.” the blonde snarked at her retreating back. “It’s the holiday season after HUUFFH!”
The Fair & Radiant Maiden rushed her with a vengeful Forearm Smash, one that saw her elbow gouge painfully into Dare’s right breast. “I’ll get the other one next time if you stand still.” she told the grimacing Englishwoman. “My targets usually aren’t that smallLLERRGGGHH!”
A third European Uppercut ‘clacked’ Lenore’s teeth and after that conversation was in short supply as the pair of lissome lovelies clubbed away with their bludgeon of choice. More than half a dozen blows were exchanged on each side with neither woman earning a direct advantage until Dare caught Lemarchand coming in with a Bytch Slap that CRAAACKED the Courtier’s head to one side.
Far from satisfied while the American was still vertical, Olivia reared back and slapped her twice more, taking pains to make sure her slightly calloused palm connected with the same spot each time out. The third turned Lenore away in a woozy half circle, so Dare reached out, palmed her shoulder and turned her back to CRAAACK!
Lenore swiveled her neck with vicious backhand and followed up with an equally mean-spirited forehand. The third slap was really more a condescending pat, just something to focus Olivia’s attention when the Raven clasped both hands across the base of her neck. Pulling the blonde close as she stepped forward, Lemarchand pushed off with her right foot and THWHUMPED a high, hard Kneelift into her opponent’s torso. Olivia gasped in shock and pain as the force of it sent her hips thrusting back in a rather undignified fashion. She was in the midst of drawing a deep breath when Lenore came at her again, the curved point of her knee once again THWUMPING into Dare’s washboard abs with the sound of a baseball bat striking wet clay. Blasted back even farther by the follow-up, Olivia collapsed in a weary three point stance with the majority of her weight carried by the kickstand of her right arm.
Above her, a stone-faced Lenore dug her fingers into the Daredevil’s battle-damp hair and murmured, “Stand up, Olivia. I want to make you quit to the body, but I’ll knee you in the face if there’s no other option.”
Olivia took a deep breath and steadied her footing, but made no effort to rise. “You go ahead and do what needs to be done, dear heart. I’ll do the same and we’ll see who--”
Lemarchand blasted a sledgehammer of a Kneelift at the Brit’s skull, good thing Olivia got her forearms up to absorb the worst of the shock. More to the point, she grabbed hold of Lenore’s leg and folded it up under her, stuffing the brunette’s heel into the curve of her own glutes. The American recognized the trap an instant too late and she ‘eeped’ in surprise when Dare rose up and hoisted her off the canvas. The lift wasn’t much but then again it didn’t have to be, just enough for the Oncoming Storm to drop to one knee, thus providing an unpleasant landing for Lenore’s vulnerable shin. Lenore’s groan was cut off by a heavy ‘THWHUD’ when Olivia immediately popped up and bridged back to dump her rival squarely on the back of her head and shoulders with an emphatic Backdrop Suplex.
SHINBREAKER & BACKDROP SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGXNiiqTB2s
Quick to act even though her gut was still churning from those Kneelifts, Olivia crawled over to Lenore’s upturned haunches, palmed her heels in either hand and pushed onto her toes to keep her pinned down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Emily’s Lady in Waiting bucked free and flopped onto her belly, presumably to escape another cover. Dare thought about trying again if only to make the brunette expend more energy in escaping, but her pride had been shaken by those blows to her midsection and she wanted to balance that ledger as quickly as possible. Twining her fingers in Lenore’s hair, she stood up and forced her foe to do the same. From there she swung around on Lemarchand’s six and deftly slung her left leg over the Courtier’s left thigh. Then she dipped, hooked her left arm over Lenore’s right bicep and reefed back to secure the Abdominal Stretch.
“Weren’t very kind to my abs a few minutes ago, were you Lenore?” Olivia’s tone was soft and subtly mean as she settled into one of her favorite holds. “Damned near gutted my like a fish with nothing but your knee. That’s a talent I appreciate, even when I’m on the receiving end.”
“Glad to hear it,” Lemarchand grunted, “because I’m not through kneading the quit into your NGH!”
The Blackbird balled her left hand into a fist and punched Lenore flush in the navel. “Think you’re a little confused on our roles at the moment, luv. When I’ve got you caught like this…” she leaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaned back on the Abdominal Stretch which gave most of the arena an excellent view of Lemarchand’s midsection while causing nothing but problems for said midsection, “…I’m the baker and you’re the mewling lump of pastry dough.”
Lenore shook her head ‘no’ for Al, but saved her words for the Briton. “Mewling? You’ll have to work harder than this to get any mewling from meeeerrrrggggghhh!”
Olivia placed her right hand against the left side of her opponent’s tummy and dragged it across in one swift stroke, a modification of the classic ‘Tiger Claw’ technique that was a staple of English AHW. She followed the first with three more, then ‘SMACKED’ Lenore’s new welts with an open palm to make sure they stung properly. Satisfied by the soft groan heard trapped behind the brunette’s teeth, Dare curved her hand into spade and dug in deep, making sure her index finger gouged into the younger woman’s belly button.
Familiar with what Olivia could do to an undefended tummy with very little time (he’d helped salve Jenny’s welts on more than one occasion after she’d tangled with the Storm), Carpenter didn’t wait long to check on Lemarchand’s condition. “What do you say, Lenore? You hanging in there or have you had enough? If it gets to be too bad, just call out and I’ll--”
“Not necessary.” she answered through gritted teeth. “I’ve been doing crunches with Pandora and claw drills with Collins, Olivia’s fingers will cramp up long before I doAAAAAGGGHHHHH!”
All too aware that it’d be dangerous to give someone as resourceful as Lenore long enough to get accustomed to any given situation, the blonde abandoned her tummy work so she could lean down and take hold of the American’s ankle. This she proceeded to pull up and back, bending the limber gam into a wicked ‘J’ shape that put additional pressure on her abdomen and plant leg.
LEG TRAP ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=esKNh6Vni-M
“It seems you’re caught in a rather elegant snare, my little Raven.” Dare purred after ten long seconds. “And believe me when I tell you, there are so many ways I can punish you from this very position. So think long and hard the next time Algernon asks if you’d like to call it a nighHHEERROOOWW!”
Denied both legs and one arm, Lenore reached over and back with her left hand and took Dare’s right nipple in the pincer of her thumb and forefinger. Olivia grimaced and shook her head ‘no’, more in ‘not good enough, luv’ sort of way than to rebuke any question of submission. After a second or two to steady her breathing, she growled, “Let go, Lenore. Or I’ll remember this when you’re at my mercYGAAAAH!”
The Raven twisted and pulled, stretching the pliant flesh until the Englishwoman released her right leg. Feeling the Abdominal Stretch get the tiniest bit looser, Lemarchand gave the blonde’s nub a final tweak for good measure, then let loose and wrenched her way free of Dare’s clutches. Rather than escape to the ropes or even the floor, Lenore swung around behind the Daredevil and promptly repaid Olivia’s unkindness with an Abdominal Stretch of her own. But where Dare had gone with a more traditional approach, Lemarchand took a page out of the Tennessee Terror’s playbook. With Olivia’s left leg subdued beneath her own, the Fair & Radiant Maiden jerked the blonde’s left arm behind her back with a simple Chickenwing, then snaked her right arm over Olivia’s chin and pulled back, bending her neck courtesy of an unpleasant Inverted Facelock.
Harley Jo called it ‘Nothin’ Fancy’ and that was true enough but it was also hellaciously painful, as Dare could attest at that moment. Walking a careful line, Lemarchand made sure Olivia carried most of her weight while also enduring the heaviest possible strain on her lissome frame. “Told you I’d been watching lots of tape.” Lenore reminded the wriggling blonde once her breathing smoothed out. “I was quite impressed by how your countrywomen could hold the politest conversations while trying to rip each other’s hair out in handfuls. And the humiliations! God, they’re so much more elegant than over here! I especially like the one where the aggressor twists her opponent into some sort of hideous knot, then--” she leaned down and pecked a line of three quick kisses up the right side of Olivia’s exposed neck, “gives them a kiss to remind them how helpless they are.”
Olivia growled low in the back of her throat, the normally icy grappler genuinely angry for the first time since the bell sounded. “Enjoy it now, pretty bird. Helplessness is something I never tolerate for very lonNNNNGGHH!”
Lenore jerked back on the Inverted Facelock and dropped her hips a little lower, thus increasing the pressure on her bound adversary. “Oh, I think you’re going to tolerate this for quite a bit longer, ‘Liv. Just be grateful I decided not to pull your top out of the way before I hooked your head and armMMMRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Dare curled her left hand into a claw, snugged a few fingers into the pit of her attacker’s left knee and dug in, trying to force a crack in the otherwise seamless defenses of the Abdominal Stretch. “Gonna have to do better than that, Daredevil,” Lenore taunted through a pained sneer, “I’ve still got your neck and your OOOFFFHH!” She was about to say ‘arm’ when Dare tore free of the Chickenwing and immediately slammed her elbow into the American’s ribs.
Squirming around until Lemarchand was forced to switch the Inverted Facelock to a more manageable Sleeper, Olivia hit full reverse, driving the both of them into a far corner where Lenore hit with a low BWUUUNG! Sucking wind as she finally broke entirely loose, Dare snagged the top rope for leverage, then pulled her hips forward and thrust them back, just THUMPING the medicine ball curve of her buttocks into the pit of the brunette’s stomach. “Told’ya luv,” she rasped to the gaping Yank, “I’m never helpless for lonNNNNGGHHH!”
Lenore put a hand over her forehead, twisted in and drilled a European Uppercut across the back of her skull. Knocked forward by the unexpected shot, Olivia would’ve gone to all fours if the Raven hadn’t chased her down and snatched a handful of black waistband. Reeling her back into a grinding Waistlock, Lenore set her feet, dropped her hips and popped ‘em hard to toss the Blackbird up, over and back with a German Suplex that BWUUUNG-THUMPED her spine-first against the top turnbuckle.
TURNBUCKLE GERMAN SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9009YhVXVqI
Mouth dropped open in silent agony, Olivia slung a drunken arm over the top rope to make sure she didn’t plop down into prime Stink Face’ing territory. Moving like someone who’d just escaped a car accident, Dare stumbled away from the corner but only made it a few steps before Lenore caught up. The Courtier secured a Half Nelson and a Chickenwing right after the other, the pair of simple holds completely neutralizing Olivia’s usually dangerous arms. With the blonde’s legs in no condition to keep her rooted to anything, Lemarchand crouched and peeled off yet another bridge, this one THUNKING the Blackbird squarely on the back of her head and shoulders. Folded in half by a move her own partner popularized as the Soubrette-Plex, Olivia showed few signs of life while Carpenter swooped in to count…
STOLEN SOUBRETTE-PLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FnQrHnkN7eM
ONE…
TWO….
THRNOOOO!
She kicked free and flopped over onto her stomach with a good half second to spare. Not about to give the notoriously durable bendy any sort of breathing room, Lenore shoveled Olivia onto her back, climbed aboard her waist and proceeded to split her stems to bursting with a Double Leg Grapevine. Gripping the Englishwoman’s shoulders in either hand, Lemarchand pressed them against the mat in hopes of holding her down through…
ONE…
TWO…
Olivia slipped her shoulders free and CLAPPED a hard slap across Lenore’s cheek to boot, yet it wasn’t enough to free her stems from the Grapevine and after a bit of hand-fighting the brunette seized her opponent’s wrists. Slamming them to the canvas with a bit more force than necessary, Lemarchand forced her hips down against Dare’s gulping tummy and streeeeeeeeetched her legs that much wider to earn a little grimace of pain from the blonde.
“Don’t even think about trying to count her down, Carpenter.” she said without taking her eyes from Olivia’s. “We all know she’d get a shoulder up and frankly, pinning her would be too easy. I’d much rather show this sweet girl who’s legs are stronger.”
Smiling ever so slightly, she cranked Dare’s gams a little wider still and thrust her hips against blonde belly with a soft, heavy ‘smeck’. Dare grimaced and made some microadjustments but nothing more. It’d been a long time since she’d tangled with someone who’s legs rivaled hers and she wasn’t about to risk pulled hamstrings with angry bucking. That said, she wasn’t going to let Lemarchand stretch her uncontested, so she set her heels as best she could and inched her legs a little closer together. “I hope you’re here for the long game, luv.” Dare told the American. “Because these are the legs that have submitted every so called Destroyer in this promotion. Even from down here I’ve got enough power to snap you like a wishbo--”
Lenore shifted down a bit and pressed her hips to Olivia’s, their respective lycra’s making a quiet sliding sound as they met. That oh so subtle grind raised a lascivious roar from the crowd, forcing Lemarchand to speak louder than she would’ve liked. “You CAN be beaten leg to leg, ‘Liv. I saw Portia do it. It didn’t, ahem, come easy, and it was far tawdrier than I’d prefer to work, but she DID make you quit. Made you scream, in fact. And if I may speak boldly, anything that bytch can do,” Lenore forced her hips down and pressed hard enough to make Olivia curl her upper lip in a hateful snarl, “I can do better. So tell me, would you rather give in to the stretch… or the grind?” Lemarchand treated Olivia to a little bit of both and the crowd grew that much louder.
Dare on the other hand kept her response soft and almost non-threatening. “I’ll only warn you once, pretty bird. Take one more step down this path and I won’t just beat you. I’ll use you up and throw you away like a two-shilling doxie. Are we clear?” Lenore regarded her for a moment, then raised her hips and slid north to once again press down on the Briton’s tummy. Then she sent another jolt through the Grapevine and while Olivia dealt with that she brought the blonde’s wrists together so she could control them with one hand.
Alarmed, Dare started to twist and writhe, she absolutely did not want the Raven to have a hand free. Too late though, Lemarchand snugged Olivia’s jaw-line in the curve of her thumb and forefinger and said, “Warning acknowledged. Tell me, are you too delicate for this sort of treatment…” she released Dare’s face, reached back and clamped a stiff grip on the Blackbird’s trunks, “… or can you handle a little clawing?”
The blonde sucked in a sharp breath, it was the furthest thing from pleasant and more than a little humiliating, but Lemarchand made no moves to get under her togs and so she’d tolerate it just long enough to turn the tables. Forcing her lips into a nonchalant smile, Olivia purred, “Were you going to start clawing sometime? Or are you just teasinNNNGGGGHHHHH!”
Lenore squeezed the Claw and stretched the Grapevine, an ungodly combination that made even the seasoned Apartment Wrestler groan in pain. Up top, Lemarchand steadily increased the pressure on both holds in the hopes of getting a submission before the faint tingle in her own legs grew into cramps that would force her to abandon the Grapevine. Ravaging Olivia’s undercarriage while working very hard to keep her straining wrists together, Lenore slammed her hips into the flattened woman’s tummy and demanded, “Submit!”
“Stuff it, skagger!” Dare rasped, the hurt in her voice an able illustration of the effectiveness of her foe’s grip. “You’re not strong enough to get anything from MEEGGHHHHHH!”
Lemarchand slid a little bit higher still and pressed the flat plank of her midriff into Olivia’s face. The shift meant she couldn’t maintain the claw as before, so she took possession of the Englishwoman’s waistband and pulled it up in vindictive front wedgie. “She’s helpless!” the Fair & Radiant Maiden barked. “Count her down!”
Quick to act after playing spectator for the last couple of minutes, Al slid into place beside them and counted…
ONE…
TWO…
Olivia rolled to call the ref off, but Lemarchand pressed her flat immediately thereafter, the determined Courtier bracing her own forehead against the canvas to keep the squirming former World Champion down for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Olivia bucked her again so Lenore readjusted and treated her to a third faceful of tummy. “Getting closer, ‘Liv,” she huffed. “closer all the time.” True enough, Al checked the blonde’s shoulders, then counted off…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
The Oncoming Storm bit down on her foe’s aggressive abdominals and Lenore jerked free of her own volition, saving Dare with half a tick to go. Angered by what she took as an egregious breach of etiquette, Lenore stopped tugging on the blonde’s waistband so she could double down on the Wristlocks again. Sliding back down so they were nose to nose, Lemarchand snarled, “I keep my talon out of your trunks and you repay me with teeth? That’s going to cost you dearly, sweet giRNNNNGGGHHHH!”
Lenore’s fury had drawn her that much closer to the Briton and Dare made her pay for the lapse with a short, strong Headbutt across the bridge of the nose. A second shot between the eyes allowed ‘Liv to wrench one leg loose, the knee of which she promptly slotted between Lenore’s thighs as forcefully as possible. Lemarchand gasped and started to roll clear, so Dare gave her an extra little push to make sure the brunette ended up on her tummy.
So eager for vengeance she was practically thrumming, Olivia climbed aboard her rival’s back and stretched out like the gut-shot battler was the world’s most luxurious feather bed. Securing her mount with movements that looked simultaneously languid and quick, Dare hooked her ankles under Lenore’s and stretched them well beyond forty-five degrees with a single yank. In the same motion she slipped her hands under the brunette’s armpits, laced them across her chin and pulled back sharply. With the Dare Snare finally complete, Olivia sighed, turned her head to one side and winked to the hard camera. ‘Feisty.” she mouthed.
Beneath her, Lenore pulled at the Chinlock, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on her neck and chin. Dare let her try but she pulled back a little harder or worked the Grapevine a little wider anytime it looked like the Raven might gain some ground. Confident in her ability to keep the younger woman under control, Olivia leaned forward and planted a kiss on the top of Lemarchand’s noggin, another of those timeless UK AHW embarrassments.
“Things were a bit dodgy there for a moment, but now it’s all back in proper order, wouldn’t you say, Lenore?” she purred. “You’ve certainly got better legs than most, unfortunately for you I am not most. I am the longest reigning World Champion in FAWN history and when I say you’re going to submit to my legs, you will bloody well submit to my legs!”
Olivia tightened the screws by wrenching them wide, a violently sudden wishbone that sent fire licking up and down Lemarchand’s thighs. Well and truly ‘snared’, Lenore grabbed the Englishwoman’s wrists in an effort to wrest free of the Chinlock and only got another hard yank for her efforts.
Hearing the hurt in the trapped battler’s groan, Al went down on his haunches and asked,” What do you say, Lenore? Want to give it up?”
She didn’t bother with words or even a waggled finger, just an irritated, incredulous glare that told the zebra everything he needed to know. Pleased to wear down the upstart while simultaneously replenishing her own reserves, Olivia jiggled the Chinlock up n’ down, putting a series of tiny kinks in the brunette’s neck. And of course there was the Grapevine, which had rendered Lemarchand’s otherwise dangerous legs a non-issue, at least for the moment. Once she’d settled her own nerves and given the American a chance to realize she wasn’t going anywhere Dare didn’t damned well want her to go, the blonde snuggled in that much closer and murmured, “You may not want to give up now, but that’s because I’m still playing nice. After the pain you’ve put me through, I’m inclined to not play nice for much longer. Especially when there’s so many ways to torture you from this very position.”
Lenore knew the Oncoming Storm was telling the truth and she had no desire to experience even a fraction of Olivia’s chamber of horrors, but she wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of showing fear. So after a moment’s energetic wriggling did nothing to loosen Dare’s bonds or get her any closer to the ropes, Lemarchand made a simple challenge. “Do your worst, you mouthy bytch.”
Olivia grinned in the wake of this brunette defiance, it’d been far too long since she’d faced an opponent so much like herself. Relishing the opportunity to establish type superiority, she purred, “Oh, I intend to, pretty bird. But where to start? Do I pinch your nose shut?” She shifted the Chinlock up, caught Lemarchand’s nostrils between thumb and forefinger and crushed them closed.
Denied air, Lenore didn’t panic, she did however work to wiggle her head loose. No dice, Olivia’s hands stayed glued in place until the blonde murmured, “Or should I simply tear it off?” With that she hooked her index and middle fingers into the Courtier’s nostrils and pulled back, a vicious tactic if ever there was one. “Oh, what a delightful sound!” Dare said of the nasal whine forced from her foe’s lips. “Lets not neglect that lovely mouth while we’re thinking about it.” Lemarchand clenched her teeth in hopes of avoiding whatever came next, alas the tines in her nose made silence an impossibility and she couldn’t stop Olivia from slipping three fingers into the side of her mouth.
A savage fishhooking earned a warning from Carpenter and while there was some comfort in knowing the vindictive Brit would release it before ‘FOUR!’ it still meant there were several seconds of suffering to endure, which was more than enough time for Olivia to murmur, “Ready to give it up, little girl? Or can I keep playing with your face?”
By way of answer the Fair & Radiant Maiden grabbed the wrist of the hand attacking her nose and squeezed until she felt bones grind. Wincing despite her domineering position, Dare pulled her other claw from Lenore’s mouth, grabbed hold of her hair and THUNKED her forehead into the mat. That freed her other hand, so she doubled down on the back of Lemarchand’s noggin and proceeded to make her wail with several seconds of overenthusiastic scrubbing. Even blind and stretched, the brunette managed to bury her hands in the Daredevil’s hair and the strength of her pulling forced Olivia to BWUNK her face against the mat once, twice three times.
“Enough with the hair, that goes for both of you!” Al told the panting ladies. “Olivia, you can stretch her all you want, but no more of that face ripping crap, you hear me?” Lenore, keep out of her hair!”
Lemarchand was too busy checking her abraded features to reply, Olivia on the other hand was quick to say, “Not to worry, sir. I’m done clawing at this pretty little bird.” Then she leaned in, brushed her lips against Lenore’s ear and added, “The humiliation, however, is just getting started.”
True to word she arched her hips and thrust them into Lenore’s glutes with a loud SMACK that was utterly lost in the thunderous roar of the FAWNatics. Lenore’s face, which was already flushed pink after the scrubbing she’d endured, deepened to full red as Dare continued to demonstrate her total control in the most domineering way possible. Breathing deep to keep the furious screams locked deep inside, the Raven growled, “Enjoy my ass all you’d like, ‘Liv. It’ll enjoy your nose before I leave this rinNNGGHH!”
Olivia rammed her rival’s taut tush one more time and grrrrrrooooound against it, much to the delight of everyone not named Lenore Lemarchand. “That’s a vivid imagination you have, dear. Perhaps you can use it to leave the ring believing I didn’t embarrass you in front of the whole EEERRRGGGHH!”
Lenore stopped worrying at the Chinlock and RAKED her fingers across the Brit’s eyes in a blindside swipe that was as effective as it was lucky. Yelping as the world went blurry, Olivia tried to regain the Snare, but Lemarchand finally got her arms free and she jammed an elbow into the blonde’s chin. Dare grunted and rolled one way while Lenore crawled in the other. She didn’t go all the way to the ropes, she did however create enough distance to take a few deep breath and check on her stinging features before clambering to boot leather.
Fully expecting Olivia to be on her feet already, Lenore was delighted to find the blonde still on one knee, rubbing at her stinging eyes. Stomping across the stretch of canvas, she drew her left arm back and whistled softly. Dare turned toward her without thinking and Lemarchand CRAAAACKED her across the cheek with a Bytch Slap that spun the startled Blackbird to all fours.
In the next instant she put a foot against the Englishwoman’s buns and stamped down, forcing her flat against the canvas. Hands on her hips, she shouted over the din, “KEEP THAT BONY ASS WHERE IT BELONGS. RIGHT UNDER MY FOOT.”
Olivia jerked free at once and scrambled up, a furious look on her pretty face. “Slapping my face when I was blind was cheap enough. Disparaging a clearly superior arse is just poor form. I’ll see that you pay for that, pretty bird.”
Lenore flipped some battle sweaty hair out of her face, then pointed to Olivia. Turning her hand over, she summoned the former World Champion forward with one beckoning finger. “You’ve worked up a pretty big tab too, sweet girl. You wanna settle up? I’m waiting right here… in the middle of MY ring.”
Dare shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, Lenore. When this is over I’m going to take the time to explain everything that is wrong with that sentence. But first…”
The Oncoming Storm rolled in and TWHAPPED a stiff Forearm Smash against her opponent’s chest. Lenore staggered, set her feet and returned fire with a shot that hit directly across the swell of Olivia’s modest bust. After the initial exchange their pace grew all the faster, neither woman bothering to assess their own condition before unleashing their next attack. Indeed, it quickly became too much hassle to exchange blows, so blonde and brunette hooked a hand across the back of her foe’s neck to keep them anchored in place while she thwhap-thwhap-THWHAPPED an increasingly swift stream of blows into chest and chin.
What looked to be a remarkably frenetic stalemate broke wide open when Olivia shifted angles and took Lenore under the chin with her stiffest European Uppercut yet. Rocked back on her heels, Lemarchand slopped sideways into the ropes and bounced out looking like a soft breeze might knock her down. Olivia had something far stronger in mind, so she sprinted at the tottering American and-- Lenore lunged, caught Olivia around the waist with a Gutwrench and hoisted her through a breathtaking 270-degree spin that ended with the Raven dropping to one knee and Dare landing atop it with a sickening THWHUMP! Shoving Olivia loose while the blonde was still paralyzed by the surprise Backbreaker, Lemarchand stretched out across her chest in a Lateral Press and hooked the far leg for…
TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_zleJLm3vg
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Dare kicked loose and rolled toward Lenore, so as not to immediately present her throbbing back to the Black Courtier. A wise move, unfortunately the length of the match and her desire to best the former World Champion had done nothing to dull the brunette’s instincts and she shoveled Olivia to her other side so she could pwak-pwakPWAK! a half dozen Forearm Smashes against the small of her back. Going for Dare’s locks only when the Briton rolled to all fours, Lenore hauled her upright with a few brisk tugs and quickly switched over to a Wristlock.
The Irish Whip sent Olivia barreling to the strands and back to her foe, who greeted her with open arms in the worst way imaginable. Bent almost double, Lemarchand snagged her right arm around Dare’s waist and snaked the left across her calves. Then she bundled the wounded Blackbird under her arm, pushed onto her tiptoes and sat out to THWHUNK Olivia flush on the back of her head and shoulders via a sheer-drop Sidewalk Slam. Still holding Dare’s legs trapped in one arm, Lemarchand doubled down on her coil and leaned waaaaaaaaaaaay back, putting all sorts of pressure on her foe’s tenderized vertebrae while Carpenter counted…
SHEER -DROP SIDEWALK SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BoK31J-RRAs
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Olivia kicked out, albeit a little slower than before, a detail that wasn’t lost on the Fair & Radiant Maiden. “I’m not out to hurt you, Dare.” she huffed while dragging the weary blonde to her knees. “But you will know you’ve been in a fight. And you’ll show me the respect I’ve earned.” A Kneelift doubled Olivia over and made her a prime candidate for the Standing Headscissors Lemarchand slipped over her ears. Part of her was sorely tempted to just squeeze a surrender from Dare on the spot and she did in fact treat the Oncoming Storm to a constriction that made her gasp in pain, but Lenore was still angry about having her ass ground like the pole in a strip club so she wrapped both arms around Dare’s waist and squeezed tight. Trap set, she whipped Olivia onto her shoulders and stomped to the nearest corner where she hurled her burden against top turnbuckle spine-first.
TURNBUCKLE POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNF7M6Swglw
The FAWNatics groaned alongside the suffering Englishwoman, but whereas they came to their feet she collapsed to her knees like a penitent in front of the Raven. Far from merciful, Lemarchand reeled her into another Standing Headscissors / Waistlock combination. The set-up was mere heartbeats old when Lenore swung the blonde up, not into a traditional Powerbomb stall, but one that saw both of Dare’s legs draped down the American’s right shoulder. Caught in the unenviable position, Olivia could only close her eyes and brace for impact when Lemarchand spun in a half circle and dropped to her knees, all the better to THWHUNK her opponent flat on her brutalized back.
OVER THE SHOULDER POWERBOMB HOLD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ESnQdby5dM
Tenacious as ever with that Waistlock, Lenore skidded forward until Olivia’s ankles were up around her ears and her shoulders were most definitely flat. Quick to act in spite of his cringing reaction to that last Powerbomb, Al swooped in to toll off…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Olivia didn’t kick out so much as she did slosh onto her tummy, the usually lissome battler looking like a common dishrag after Lenore’s latest savage salvo. That said, the match was still going and Lemarchand wasn’t about to let up, even if Dare’s reserves were nothing but dregs. That’s why she seized the Daredevil’s left wrist in both hands and started hauling her to boot leather in a series of harsh tugs. “You’re gonna have to learn to stay down, ‘Liv. Keep going at this rate and you’ll never make it through all five matches.”
Olivia just moaned and tried to pull her hand loose, but it was a weak effort and Lemarchand held firm. Soon as the Briton was upright Lenore jerked her forward into a simple Shoulderblock that knocked Olivia back on her heels. With Dare reeling at arms length, Lenore charged forward and dropped into a nimble baseball slide that took her between Olivia’s legs. Springing to her feet with Dare’s left wrist still firmly in her possession, Lenore stepped around and swung her left leg over the blonde’s head.
The Storm Chasers had grown steadily quieter since the Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker but now they roared back with a vengeance, the throng desperately trying to will their heroine an escape hatch from the Nevermore. Lemarchand ignored them entirely, the whole of her attention was devoted to Olivia’s right wrist, which was the last piece of this diabolical puzzle. Reaching through her foe’s splayed stems, Lenore grabbed her prize and pulled it back the way she’d came, thus completing the Double Pumphandle. Finally taking a moment to enjoy the fruits of her labors, the Raven flipped hair off her face and looked out at the crowd.
“Good as this was, it was just prologue. Remember that.”
Then she crouched the tiniest bit and jerked up as hard as she could, the momentum more than enough to lift / spin Olivia up and out into the freefall faceplant that would-- ‘OOOOHHHHHHHH!’ Incredulous cheers from the FAWNatics as Dare wrenched loose of the brunette’s clasp and landed on her feet while Lemarchand dropped to her butt with a dull ‘thump’. Wide-eyed with shock, Lenore scrambled to one knee and THWHUNK! Olivia pistoned forward and damned near murdered the brunette’s forehead with a Kneelift to the forehead.
Lenore crumpled forward onto her hands and knees, where she stayed while Dare spun around in a half circle. Backing up so the base of Lemarchand’s neck was pressed against her tush, Olivia reached down and hooked her arms around the Courtier’s biceps. Just like that she leaned forward and twisted around, a move that pulled Lenore to her feet and allowed the Englishwoman to stick her head between American stems. Looking for all the world like she was about to cadge an MDKristy, Olivia straightened up, then caught Lemarchand around the shins and dropped back into a gorgeous bridge that THWHUMPED the brunette square on the back of her head and shoulders. Using exhaustion to her benefit, Olivia pushed onto her toes and leaaaaaaaned back into her foe’s upturned haunches in the hopes of keeping her down for the…
REVERSE GORY SPECIAL BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijOBOhpC5wI
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Lenore shrugged her away and turned to one side, but the bell had already sounded. There was a lump in her throat and a knot in her stomach when the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… OLIVIA DARE!”
A short distance away, Olivia clambered to her feet and let Carpenter raise one hand high. Honing in on a ‘STORM WARNING!’ sign that spanned most of a row, she lifted an index finger and mouthed, ‘That’s one.’ She saluted two other sides of the arena before the final turn brought her face to face with a solemn-faced Lenore Lemarchand. Given the Court’s penchant for after the bell theatrics, Dare readied herself for anything and was mildly surprised when the brunette said, “I’m not going to say you got lucky, because we both know it’s not true. But I will tell you that’s not going to happen again. I can beat you, Olivia. I believed that coming in, now I know. You do too.”
“Knowing and proving are two different things, Lenore. And until you do both, neither matter in the slightest. That said, I look forward to seeing you try.” She extended a hand, just as she’d done at the start of the match. Lemarchand accepted the gesture, which pleased the crowd a great deal.
“You’re not going to have to wait long. February will be here before you know it. This is the last time I play catch up, Olivia.” Done with words for the time being, the Raven dropped Dare’s hand, slipped through the ropes and went up the ramp with her head bowed, not in defeat, but the deep concentration of someone going over every little detail of recent events.
Olivia watched her until she disappeared through the curtain, just to make sure Lemarchand didn’t try anything untoward. When no attack came, she headed to the corner nearest the hard camera and mounted the second turnbuckle. “The scoreboard says Blackbird: one, Raven: nothing!” she told the crowd. “And that’s the closest it’s ever going to get! Mark my words, I’ll run this score up as high as it’ll go!”