Post by SammieSinclair on Mar 8, 2015 20:52:48 GMT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5zXinAj5TI
For a few, fleeting moments, the unfamiliar chords caught the FAWN Faithful flat footed, for while the undeniably upbeat rhythm encouraged a positive reception, it wouldn’t be the first time in recent memory that they had been deceived. The moment the all too familiar and all too endearing graphic for the Upstart Nation flashed into view upon FAWNTRON however, all hesitation was discarded and a hearty cheer ripped forth across the packed arena as the Loyalist Legionnaires, gathered in their thousands, pledged their allegiance to the peppiest of factions once more.
The moment Samantha Sinclair appeared on stage, accompanied by her new year track, that was when the FAWNatics truly lost their sh*t, the Leader of the Upstart Nation standing as tall as her perfectly petite mass would allow her, catching the light in all the right places as she whipped both her arms up high and waved. Five foot four and one hundred and ten pounds of athletically sculptured, miniature might, Sammie Sinclair was every inch the People’s Princess as she cheered back, shimmering in her golden/yellow attire and blushing fiercely with her dimple, freckled cheeks flushing a delightful crimson.
Her change in tunes was not the only alteration for a new year as, on her first PPV of twenty-fifteen she also sported a fresh variation on her snugly fitting and bright ensemble. Her sports bra remained the same, smoothly curved about her small, proud bosom, leaving her softly sculptured tummy bare and her upraised arms the same way. It was to be her boy cut shorts that had apparently vanished, replaced instead by a short skirt which, with a generous slit running up the right side, revealed a wonderful shot of her firm thigh as the baby brown eyed darling hopped up onto her tip toes and spiralled. Her boots were similarly altered, still bright blue and reaching upwards to just beneath her kneecaps, they were now tanned from firm leather and sported lacing right up the front.
With the flourish of her spiral completed, the People’s Princess set her feet apart and kept her fingers wiggling heavenwards, nodding to her followers with a knowing smirk and, as she brought her palms together for a loud CLAP!! the Loyalist Legionnaires followed through as one.
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
And with her statement of intent made clear she pointed directly towards the squared circle, a hearty explosion of pyrokenetics erupting to either side of the stage that she was standing on. Samantha Sinclair was here and, with a joy induced skip she head down the aisle at a swift sprint, the second generation superstar with chocolate curls bouncing free about her slender shoulders now a little older, a little wiser and, after the last year was no longer only of Championship Pedigree, she was of proven Championship Quality. The girl was now a young woman, and she was looking all the bolder for it.
Fearless? Perhaps not, the Little Sparrow would be the first to admit to her short fallings, but nerve?
She most defiantly had nerve.
The moment Sinclair reached the squared circle, the Golden Girl took her short detour right ways and, much to the delight of those who found themselves closet, Sammie began clapping every outstretched hand that she discovered, paying particular attention to the youngest in attendance. Beating a fast track around the ring, she soon found herself back at start, a run, skip and jump taking her clean up onto the apron. Grasping the top coil with both her paws, the Bright Eyed Wonder leaned back and, following a cheeky shake her pert buttocks, she shot right over the top rope with an applause worthy sault.
Landing lightly on her feet and clapping once more, she paused only to collecting the microphone from an all too willing Announcer, bringing the mic to lips with a slightly embarrassed grin.
“Like the new tunes?” she queried, her smile brightening further as the cheers increased in tempo, her first PPV appearance of the new year being well received, especially when she swished her hips to remind them of her new attire as well. “Glad to hear it! Unfortunately, that’s not the only thing we’re had to hear this month, in fact, this last month I’ve been hearing a whole heck of a lot from one person in particular.”
She paused for a moment, the People’s Princess indulging a dramatic moment as she attempted, and largely failed, to look as serious as possible.
“Now everyone is entitled to their opinion, and it’s pretty clear that Beth Jenkins has hers,” as the Loyalist Legionnaires began booing, Sammie made a motion for them to ‘calm down’, perhaps taking a page out Charlie Dawson’s book, her beloved Upstarts newest recruit. They didn’t much do so, but Sammie wasn’t about to scold them for it, “and she isn’t afraid about who knows it. Now you see, last year she fought me for my Lightweight Title, and had it not been for Soledad Sanchez, had it not been a Triple Threat Match, if it had been one on one, just me and her well, Beth believes that she had me beat. I’ve had some time to think on this and, well,” her answer was left hanging, Sinclair pulling out the moment, “I can admit that she might be right.”
The FAWNatics were frankly shocked to hear her say it, and most of them were not prepared to have it, vocally leaping to the Little Sparrows defence as if she were being blinded by misplaced modesty.
“No, its ok,” she smiled back sincerely, freckled cheeks reddening again in gratitude, “it’s true, and that’s not a bad thing. Beth is bigger than me, she’s stronger than me, she has more experience than me, she was the Lightweight Champion before me and, on that night, she had me tied up good and proper, she may even have had me outmatched. Had Soledad not been there, had she not been involved, well, maybe Beth could have beaten me. Of course,” she paused again, this time trailing her thought out with an impish smirk, “what could have been and what WOULD have been are two different things!”
The FAWNatics much preferred this train of thought, letting her know so with renewed applause.
“Beth believes that she would have won? That’s fine with me, what would be even better is if she would shut up already and come out here and prove it!! So come on Beth, I’m here, you’re here, let’s get it done!!”
With the sappy sweetheart of the People’s Mob making challenges she couldn’t back up and her followers blissful in their ridiculous allegiance to their Princess, “Wildflower” by Jane Dear Girls announces the next woman to place herself in harm’s way.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0IhlquYlI
FAWN’s infamous cowgirl appears and the welcome is far from welcoming. The freckled redhead is clad in her trademark attire, Arizona state flag patterned vest—small enough to leave a sliver of midsection bare—blue thong bottoms and matching chaps. Her feet are adorned in a pair of battered old cowboy boots, spurs clicking against the floor as she saunters down the aisle. A coiled lasso is attached to her hip, and sitting atop her head is a cowboy hat with a curved brim.
Ignoring the jeers and catcalls from the crowd, the Pale Rider strides directly and determinedly toward the squared circle. The redhead looks as though she’s headed down the Main Street of old Tombstone at high noon, keeping out of the reach of those extending for a handshake or high-five as if they’re contaminated.
As she reaches the ring, the PA makes Sammie’s foe an official one.
“And her opponent...hailing from Tombstone, Arizona, standing 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing in at 124lbs… BAREBACK BETH JENKINS!”
The redhead walks to the announcer’s table. Beth turns in her spurs, lasso and ten-gallon for a microphone. Bareback raises the stick to her rosy lips as she walks back to the ring steps and strides up. Halting just after she slips through the ropes.
“If it isn’t the Queen of the Upstarts,” Jenkins says, striding up and down the length of the ring, keeping her eyes on Sinclair. “How’s it feel to come back to earth? Now that everyone has figured you out, the wins are few and far between.”
The crowd is not at all happy with the comment and lets Jenkins know. Beth clearly doesn’t care.
“But those losses pale in comparison to the humiliation I’m going to heap on you, so get ready to take another break because you’ll need it.”
Beth tosses the stick away and moves back to her corner opposite the Upstart. The ginger cowgirl drops into an expectant crouch, nodding and badmouthing Sammie not quite under her breath.
Sammie made the smallest of short sighs, bouncing slightly between heel and toe and made herself comfortable in her own corner, eyes of baby brown not leaving Beth as she was taunted. She resisted the urge to scrunch her button nose in babyfaced anger, leaning forwards with her hands on knees as if she were ready to explode forwards the very moment she was given permission. Everything she had said about Beth being her physical superior had not been made in jest, the very real reality being that it was true, at the very least it was in all but one department.
“For the record Jenkins,” Sammie cut through Beth’s angry grumblings her own, bold statement, “I’ve never left Earth.”
As the bell rang the two Rivals were released from their inaction, the two Former Lightweight Champions zeroing in to lock up for the second time in their careers. Only as they smacked together with a fierce grapple of young limbs, Sinclair almost immediately surrendered the test of strength, instead opting to drop and curl backwards, attempting to roll her weight into a tumble and, with the soles of her new boots jutting upwards towards an opposing tummy, Monkey Flip the cowgirl high into the air!
Thumping her body into Sammie's and feeling it give delights Jenkins no end and she starts to push the Brit backwards toward the corner behind her foe. But Sinclair has different ideas. She drops to her back, propping her feet forward and up and into the redhead's thighs. A little too happy with forcing Sammie into reverse, Beth has all her weight moving forward and it proves the perfect advantage to send Jenkins tumbling over like a ginger monkey, Beth landing on her bum. The cowgirl grimaces, one hand going to her tailbone, but she's up quickly. Spinning toward Sammie, Beth's ready to pay her back with a simple right cross to the chin.
As if she were determined to sell the hell out of the world’s worst botched spot, Sammie threw herself backwards as though she had been pole axed, the swing and miss showing the air above the Upstarts head who was boss but little else. None the less, Sinclair hit the canvas across her shoulders and, with a perfect curling of her small frame soon revealed she was entirely in control of what she was doing, athletic stems shooting upwards as she weaponised FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up, wrapping her calves about Beth’s red headed noggin and attempted to wrench her off her feet by way of Frankensteiner...
@0:12
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yUMRpc1_dyY
Knowing better than anyone her fist had missed, Jenkins seems in a fog as to why Sammie's hit the deck. Nevertheless, Beth moves toward her foe, reaching down to gather up Sinclair's legs at the ankles. But well before she's able, the People's Princess sends her sinewy legs heavenward and again they clamp down around Beth's noggin. Yanking back with those stems, Sammie sends the Arizona cowgirl flying, Beth flipping forward and SLAMMING to the canvas on her backbone.
With Sammie mid-clinic on how to send a girl flying around the ring, Beth decides to stay down and buttscoots her way to a corner where she begs off, holding up a pair of plaintive palms before fashioning them into a 'T', asking the official to stop the match until she can compose herself.
As Jenkins was retreating, Sammie was moving, FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up being used for its intended purpose and positively shooting the Little Sparrow right up to vertical with a crowd pleasing flourish. A short wave and a spinning of her hips allowed Sinclair to quickly track down her opponent and, with Beth fashioning her own paws into a plea for a time out, Sam seemed to consider doing so with a titling of chocolate curled noggin.
The answer was evidently no as, with an impish impulse she was almost immediately poetry in motion, dashing across the mat and straight towards the sitting Jenkins, bouncing into a deft little hop just as she grasped the ropes to either side of the corner turnbuckle. With athletic stems spread open wide, she pendulum swung her pert, little buttocks downwards, the Cowgirl but a moment away from being on the wrong end of a bronco!
And the pert toosh THUMPS into Beth's chest, the cowgirl's body rattled by each thrust. As the impacts accumulate, Beth slips lower and lower until Sammie's skirt covers the head of Bareback for some pumps, the Brit's crotch CRUNCHING into Beth's features. The impact is no less jarring as the crowd counts Sammie up to "TEN". Only then does the ref's demand for Sinclair to get out of the ropes register and, when Sammie dismounts, Beth is left a dazed, glassy-eyed grappler. Jenkins lies vertical on the canvas, having completely slipped off the buckles, gazing blankly into the rafters above.
“Sammie,” the Official scolded the Leader of FAWN’s most Babyface Faction and, as the People’s Princess looked distinctly sheepish concerning her behaviour, he immediately stopped short of going further.
“I know, I know,” the People’s Princess made a respectful backpedal with her palms upraised, freckled cheeks a bright red as she smirked bashfully, “sometimes it can’t be helped. You realise that she’s no longer in the ropes right?” she helpfully pointed out to him and, as he flustered over an answer, Sammie took that as permission to resume and collected a pair of ankles.
“Remind me Beth,” Sinclair questioned whilst tugging on the shell shocked cowgirls boots and pulling the bigger lightweight towards centre ring, “is this the part where you would have been beating me?” Dropping her cargo, Samantha scooted to the side and, after a cute little pivot, flipping her entire frame backwards into the air, the backflip senton bringing her bare, softly sculptured tummy down to slap against Beth’s equally exposed midriff.
But as Sammie is airborne, the struggling Beth manages to pull her knees in and tuck her body in preparation of the Brit's landing. Sinclair's belly is blasted by the bony knees of the redhead and Sammie goes tumbling away after a loud 'oooof'.
Hugging her tummy, Sammie ends on her back, shifting from side to side, her face pinched in pain. Jenkins sits up and grunts out a soft "Yeah, it is."
Bareback struggles to her feet, trying to shake off the fast start by the Upstart. She corrals Sammie just as the button-cute Babyface makes her knees. Grabbing Sinclair around the noggin in a front facelock, Beth prepares to throw her weight backward, lay out, and send the crown of Sammie's head SMASHING into the deck with a DDT!!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8NDb2XuTIU
Sammie ‘erked!’ almost meekly as she was suddenly and securely corralled, pawing ineffectively at the limb wrapped about her throat as she was forced to remain penitent, her throat constricted and head squeezed. A severe wrench forced a louder, pained ‘ERK!!” from her smaller body and, as Beth threw herself backwards, it was Sinclair’s turn to follow and the crown of her delightful noggin was PLANTED into the mat!
Short the fall may have been, and yet it clearly remained devastating, Sammie’s back spasming into a felines curve before she slumped, the tip of one boot tapping out a code against the plywood as she shivered. After a short moment the Bright Eyed Wonder gamely placed her palms against the canvas to push herself upwards, only for them to slip after an aborted effort and she remained face downwards, groaning quietly as her blasted braincase struggled to catch up with the sudden reversal.
But while Sammie's forehead rests against the canvas, her bum is still raised and the newly vertical Beth is provided too inviting a target. She lines up and gives the bum a right soccer-style boot to the cheeks sending Sammie sprawling.
Growing in confidence, Beth plays to the crowd, making a pantomime lasso with her raised right hand before dropping a big elbow to the back of Sammie's skull. Jenkins seems to enjoy the soft 'yip' from the Upstart so she rises and drops it again and again. After the third, she shoves Sammie to her back, fashions her right hand into a claw and sinks the fingers into Sinclair's face and forehead, going old school with the iron claw. Her ruby nails dig into the facial features of the Brit, Beth pressing her left hand atop her right to increase the pressure.
Sammie’s lithe frame snapped from flaccid to rigid in an instant, the very moment the claws were clamped in place the Most Prolific of the Sinclair’s arched her trim tummy sharply up into the air, a cry upon her lips as though she had been electrocuted. After several, long seconds of her body trembling, rocked by the sheer intensity of the pain digging into her temples, the young women flopped, pretty peepers fluttering as she continued moaning, gazing almost blindly upwards into Beth’s self satisfied, unflinching gaze. Already driven down onto her back, there was no-where else for the Golden Girl to go, her fingers opening and closing erratically as the pain impulses to her brain struggled to comprehend what was happening.
Eventually she brought her arms up, the tortured young women hiking in a sharp breadth, popping her small bosom skywards as she grasped her opponent’s wrist. Wincing and whimpering, she tried to pull the talons free, her directions more instinctual than determined, the heels of her boots scraping backwards and forwards across the canvas with ever increasing urgency.
Beth grits her perfect pearlies, trying to keep the struggling Sammie down. The startled look on the cowgirl's face grows as the pained brunette continues on her upward path despite having Beth's digits inserted into her face.
The Brit first makes her knees and then her feet. Sinclair looks near ready to lose consciousness, but her looks are apparently deceiving. Unfortunately for Sammie's minions, an anxious Beth DRIVES a knee into the Upstart's gut once vertical, doubling her over. Moving her left hand to get a grip of Sammie's skirt, her right hand still flexing into Sinclair's face, Beth dips to gain the strength needed to lift the lightweight off the deck and THROW her back down with a CLAW SLAM and end this ridiculous stubbornness.
After being gutted so efficiently, Sammie’s wonderfully petite frame was putty in her taller rival’s hands, slumping in her opponents grasp as her world inexorably dimmed towards darkness. There was a small mewl as her skirt was hiked upwards to be used as leverage, perhaps the only sign of life as Beth proved that she was most defiantly the stronger of the duo, hupping the ragdolled Golden Girl clean off her boot leather and viciously DRILLING the abused base of the young women’s braincase back into the canvas!!
The rest of Sinclair followed soon after and, somehow, perhaps aided by her sheer vindictiveness, Beth had kept the will sapping claw hold in place, squeezing her opponent’s skull even as Sammie’s arms and legs bonelessly flopped out into a prone starfish. Beth, sensing opportunity, straddled the smaller brunette’s hips, firm buttocks planted possessively upon her new throne that was Sinclair’s trim tummy, boring down even harder with her vicious claw hold and demanding that the Official begin counting.
The man in stripes did precisely that, dropping to the mat and bringing his palm down with him...
One!
Tw...
With no leverage pressed down against them, Sammie threw up a slender shoulder, defiant even with her eyelids fluttering towards closing and her cry becoming a moan.
The cowgirl turns her pale, freckled face toward the official and the baby blues shoot out like a laser. "Not even two?" she protests.
The man shrugs.
Beth gets back to work, grasping a wrist of the flattened Upstart. She tugs Sammie to her feet, keeping her foe's left arm extended. The redhead hops one leg over the limb so she can have it scissored then reaches across the back of the brunette, grabbing for Sammie's right arm, hoping to slip her grip underneath, wrench back, and shred the abs of the People's Princess into pieces and into a submission.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWfw3Xf-sWQ
Sinclair was in a bad way and the Loyalist Legionnaires could see it, the Leader of the Upstart Nation precisely where she needed not to be and having her greatest advantage reduced to nothing. With her dimple cheeked noggin swaying from left to right upon slumped shoulders, she was being effortlessly trussed up for further torment just as she had been a year earlier, only this time there was no Soledad Sanchez to intervene. One arm was firmly secured and then the othe...
Sammie suddenly slipped her left arm free and, as a thousand voices caught in a thousand throats, the Tiny Titan dropped down onto the canvas, using the arm that the Cowgirl herself had thrust between her thighs to wrench an astonished Jenkins right off her feet. A rapid tumble and roll followed the unexpected collision between Beth and Canvas and Sammie, hooking a pair of terrific stems along the way, tucked her rival into a tight pinfall, the Official already there to begin counting...
Beth wiggles and waggles in Sammie's grip, shoulders pressed to the canvas, butt cheeks pointed to the ceiling and the crowd counts along with the totally unexpected...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
Jenkins breaks out of the ball in the nick of time!!!
Both women scramble to their feet, but the Cowgirl is there with just enough extra to again drive a knee into Sammie's aching abs, stopping the Upstart in her tracks with a chirpy grunt. Furious Sinclair had almost stolen the win, Beth bullies the smaller grappler to the nearest corner, then slides behind the Golden Girl. Wanting to tarnish her foe in a big way, Beth climbs the ropes behind her, ending with a stance on the middle cables while maintaining a clenched fist in Sammie's locks.
"That nose of hers really is going to be a button after this," she shouts, before placing a knee to the back of Sammie's skull, ready to ride her down to the canvas and splatter her with a Calf Branding
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vi-SMa18DQ0
With her second wind quite literally stolen the very moment she had tried to take it, Sammie was once again ragdolled within Beth’s ‘tender mercies’ delivered to a corner and, after a second kneelift to her aching, trim tummy before Jenkins began ascending, she was convinced her to remain compliant. There was a slight fluttering of alarm from the young women’s baby brown peepers, but there was little more that she could do as the Cowgirl road her like a surfboard towards the waiting canvas.
The THUNK!! of a sprites noggin being crushed between knee and plywood was mercifully louder than her grunt of misery, shapely stems bucking sharply upwards at the knee. The shockwave that rocked her body refused to stop there though, the English Import of Perfectly Petite Proportions thrust sideways up and over as the mat flexed beneath her abused body, vaulting her up towards sitting. She remained there for a long heartbeat, her hands puddled into the small space between her thighs before, with a miserable moan; she slopped over, arms tangling themselves up in the middle ropes as some part of her struggled for survival.
Knowing she had likely given Sinclair something at least close to a concussion, Beth shovels the dazed Sammie to her back, spreading her out like butter on toast. Bareback Beth crawls atop the smaller brunette in a full body pin, grapevining her legs around those of Sinclair, the redhead chest to chest and freckled nose to freckled nose for the...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE....
With the smallest of moans, Sammie thrust up a shoulder, breaking the count with but a moment to spare. Defiant though she was, she almost immediately returned to settled, a quite murmur upon her lips as her arm inadvertently slipped across her Rivals shoulders, holding her close as though in a tender embrace.
With Sammie's arm readily available, Beth gathers a tight grip on the limb and starts to push Sinclair over toward her back, ready to pin the arm amidst her legs if she could get to a kneel. The plan would then be to grab the near leg fold it up and around her body then shove a knee into Sammie's head when she had her tied in a particularly nasty knot Beth called the Buckle Bunny Twist.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qw55-BvV_fQ
If Samantha had been near unconscious before, she didn’t remain that way for long, Beth hooking one athletic limb and, with vindictive intent, WRENCHED the sculptured stem in entirely the wrong direction, contorting the Little Sparrows tiny frame into a agonising ‘O’, a heartfelt cry her only reply to be awoken. As much as she wanted to keep it in, the planted knee digging deep into the base of her once, terribly wounded neck forced her to do anything but, the young women clenching her peepers shut as she shook and shivered in agony. Blindly she thrust out with one, free arm, searching for any form of salvation, pert buttocks forced to point upwards by her opponent, her will reaching the limits of even its infamous tolerance.
But Sammie can hear her father in her ear and she scoots the extra inch or two she needs to wrap a palm around the bottom rope. She squeaks for a release and after four torturous seconds, Jenkins gives up her knotted Englishwoman. Sammie sighs as her body slips out of the submission, the People's Princess ending on her chest, mewling.
For her part, the redhead rises to her feet and grabs Sammie by the ankles.
Immediately Sinclair snatches hold of the rope with her opposite hand. When Beth tugs on the lower limbs, Sammie gets stretched out and, to fight being pulled away, her grips move to the middle rope and finally the top. Still, Bareback Beth tugs, but unable to rip her off, the freckled cowgirl decides to punt Sammie in the gut to loosen her up and then rip her away for a likely face-first planting to the canvas.
With her trim tummy already red and abused from repeated knee lifts, there were little defence remaining when Sammie, stretched to her full extension, was SPIKED!! by a missile loaded toe her unprotected midriff. Gutted from the moment of impact, the Bright Eyed Wonder ‘GUFFED’ out in alarm, freckled features puffing outwards as her miniature mass was bucked sharply upwards at the midway point, her fingers slipping free from the top rope so that, even in midflight, she could wrap her arms about her punished waist.
This proved to be an error as, with the Loyalist Legionnaires voicing their despair, gravity took hold, Sammie’s grip twanging free and the smaller brunette plummeted ground ward, her forehead SMACKING into the canvas with a wince inducting THUNK! Sinclair recoiled as though struck by lightning, whiplashing over onto her shoulders as she immediately switched the cradling of one pain for another, the Former Lightweight Champion at the ever decreasing mercy of her predecessor.
A grinning Beth raises an arm high to whirl a pantomime lasso above her head as she strolls around the battered Sinclair. Bareback places the heel of her cowboy boot atop Sammie's chest, arrogantly pinning the Brit for...
ONE!
TWO!!
...and Sammie throws a shoulder up to the obvious displeasure of Jenkins. "Have a hankerin' for more Beatdown, do you? Well that can be arranged."
Beth grabs Sinclair by her dark mop and drags Sammie to all fours. Beth mounts the Upstart, straddling her like a rider. She lifts her right hand high and curls it into a claw that starts to head behind her and Sammie, Beth rotating her right shoulder in order to deliver the crotch claw that made up her signature Eight Second Ride.
Just like the bad bronco that Beth had always decided that Samantha must be, the Most Prolific of the Sinclair’s refused to be a good mount and dropped her small body downwards, robbing Jenkins of her unwilling stead and rendering her unbalanced. Falling had proven to be an easy enough task for the battered Sammie to accomplish, but she had more in mind as she rolled sideways onto her back, scrunching up her button nose and reminding everyone than she was as much a scrapper as anyone.
Pulling her right stem in tight to her own, small bosom, the Golden Girl puffed out her freckled cheeks a little more and kicked upwards, the sole of one boot rocketing in-between the open thighs of an overconfident cowgirl.
Disappointed in having her ride ended so quickly by her bronco buckling, the redhead reaches down for another handful of mane when Sinclair shoots her boot upward into a rather surprising and sensitive area. The upward stomp finds its target and Beth's face instantly turns from dominant to anguished, her eyes almost instantly welling. Jenkins raises to tiptoes from the impact, rosy lips curling into an 'O'. Sinclair adds a quick retaliatory grind for good measure and that extra touch sends a mewling Bareback to her knees, hands buried deep between her thighs. The redhead tries to squeak out a curse at Sinclair but it won't come through the waves of pain from below.
“If it makes you feel any better,” an exhausted Sammie huffed, still splayed out across her back and unable to return to vertical as quickly as everyone would like, “I’ll be hearing about that from Chloe.” As satisfying as it had been, the surge of adrenaline wasn’t enough to spark her into action, the Leader of the Upstart Nation slumping as she largely remained idle, an aborted kip up confirming that she may very well be concussed, rapid blinking of baby browns refusing to refocus her vision.
In the end, the ropes proved to be ally to both young women, redhead and brunette tugging upon the coils at opposite ends of the squared circle in a race to find their feet. It was a race that Jenkins was destined to win, massaging her abused womanhood and scowling whilst the Tiny Titan opposite was only halfway to her objective. Setting off at a run, the Cowgirl had a knee ready to repay the most recent debt...
Only for Sammie to use gravity to her advantage, waiting until the last moment as she dropped down, grabbing the top rope and yanking it earthwards with her, avoiding the hurtling the joint and, hopefully, depriving Jenkins of any leverage to stop herself.
Focused on nothing else but hellacious payback for Sinclair's offense, Bareback's eyes go wide when Sammie makes the way open for an unexpected detour. The freckled cowgirl from the Southwest tries to grab the ropes as she goes sailing over, but her grip misses and she zooms past the outside apron, heading straight for the floor. A meaty thwack reverberates as she hits the thinly-padded cement and rolls to a pained heap. Jenkins leans against the steel barrier, FAWNatics reaching over to pat her on the head. And there she lies, trying to untangle her limbs and make her way to a seat.
Common sense would dictate that the match weary Sinclair leaves her bigger, stronger opponent be outside the ring to possibly be counted out and yet, for all her qualities, common sense was generally not considered to be amongst them. Instead she took off for the ropes opposite, the FAWNatics popping with applause as she displayed an increase in renewed vigour, the English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions soon launching off them like a rocket. She wasn’t finished just yet, returning to start and returning to acrobatics, ‘following’ Jenkins example and launching herself over the top coil, albeit by way of dive, a high risk splash packaged and delivered for Beth’s ‘enjoyment’.
@0:20
www.youtube.com/watch?v=10AInXN_P3o
Beth finds the wherewithal to push to her feet and that turns out to be very bad news for Bareback. Shoving away from the barricade behind her to get back to the apron, Jenkins makes it only half way there. Interrupting her is the rare flying Sammiebird and she swoops down toward Jenkins. Beth tries to get her arms up to catch the plummeting Sammie and she does to a degree, but the force with which the People's Princess SLAMS into Jenkins is all too much for Beth to deal with. The redhead tumbles over and Sinclair sandwiches her to the deck with Upstart authority, a loud 'ooooph' escaping Beth's lips as she's crushed underneath Sammie's awesome landing.
The FAWNatics roar with glee at the aerial assault and its success and it only grows when Sinclair rolls off the flattened Beth and kips to her feet with a flourish.
FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up received the usual pop that was as invigorating as it was vocal, Sammie’s next stop at the apron only a brief one as she shook her head and blinked her peepers. She waved a quick hand for the Legionnaires to confirm that she was ‘doing fine’ before she took one last moment to readjust her new skirt, tugging it downwards by a fraction into a slightly less revealing position. Deciding that the Loyalist’s in attendance deserved a bit better, the Upstart raised her hands up high and began clapping, a rapid three beat rhythm that was soon taken up by her followers and was her march to war.
“Any of this starting to sound familiar?” she queried, marching back on over to Jenkins and, with paws beneath the other young women’s shoulders, hoisted her back towards vertical. With a retaliatory kneelift from earlier keeping her equally freckled counterpart compliant, Sinclair tucked and rolled Beth back into the ring.
Up on the apron herself soon after, Sammie grasped the top rope and leaned backwards, mimicking her posture that heralded her arrival into the squared circle at the beginning of each contest. With a spring in her step, the petite brunette hurled her mass into a forwards flip, tucking into a neat little ball at the arcs apex and, instead of aiming to land gracefully upon her tootsies; she instead opted to weaponise her taunt little toosh, a butt drop aimed squarely for a Cowgirls bosoms.
Looking much the worse for wear, the redhead groans as she shakes her head softly from side to side, trying to rouse her body and brain to the increased level Sammie has brought the match. But as Beth starts to rise, Sammie is already slingshoting her way into the ring to join the battered cowgirl. Beth looks up to see brunette ball of Upstart tumbling through the air toward her. She tries to scoot out of the way, but the split-second she has doesn't prove enough time and...THUMP...Sammie's bum hits home.
The cheeky landing flattens Beth's modest chest and drives the wind right out of the ginger. As Sammie skids off the impact, Beth spasms from the attack but quickly falls motionless, starfished on the deck, seemingly out of her depth in trying to slow down the Upstart.
The People’s Princess on the other hand was doing anything but, popping back up onto her feet with a fresh bounce and delightful little twirl, brunette curls and golden skirt spinning in crowd pleasing unison. She looked every inch a past and future champion as she swept her right leg upwards, the athletic stem displaying her flexibility as she held it raised and braced against her shoulder. Freckled cheeks flushed a fresh tint of crimson as the crowd reaction confirmed that her original, signature manoeuvre and new attire revealed a bit more, taunt little buttock than she had perhaps imagined.
The Gladiatrix Photographers were happy enough to capture the moment and Sammie pushed up onto the tippy toes of her left foot and dropped downwards a second later into a rapid, plummeting splits, her right stem transformed into a scything limb, aimed to slam down across Beth’s shoulders for a thumping pin!!
@6:14: Sammie Scythe
www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0TH0r9vCIM
Sammie's extended leg SLAMS down across Beth's shoulders and chest, sending another shudder through the battered and beaten cowgirl. The pert patoot of Sinclair rests just south of Beth's chin, the redhead plastered under it for the...
ONE!
TWO!!
THREENOO!!!
Somehow Jenkins shoves up again, this time with the official's hand no more than an inch from the third slap. She rolls to her side under Sammie's relatively slight weight to make sure she couldn't get an immediate replay of the pinning attempt.
While the FAWNatics were convinced that the Official had gotten it wrong, Sammie knew immediately that he was right. As fond as she was of her original finisher, Sinclair had soon found out that didn’t have quite enough umpf to put away the big leaguers past development, and so her arsenal had evolved to become more ‘fearsome’. With a theatrical spinning of her lower limbs, Sammie was back up to vertical, encouraging Jenkins to return with her, pushing the unsteady Cowgirl away so she could deliver a tenderiser. The Bright Eyed Wonder needed her Rival splayed out and complaint for at least a few seconds, and Sammie Kick!! to the jaw was a good way to get there!
Beth struggles to her feet at Sinclair's urging, a mottled mess from the last several minutes of Sammie dominance. Once there, her blurry eyes seek the diminutive foe. Jenkins finally wobbles in Sammie's direction and the boot of Sinclair rises toward the redhead's jaw line...
But from nowhere, the cowgirl's hands rise as well and catch the approaching leather. Bareback holds Sammie's captured leg high and Sinclair is forced to hop on her opposite number. Before Sammie can turn it in to an enziguri kick, Beth reaches forward to try and corral the brunette's noggin into a front facelock so with that, and the leg in her possession turned into a cradle, she can send Sammie over and down with a fisherman's suplex.
Quickly tucked in and tied, pulled in close to Beth Jenkins and knotted up, Sammie was granted a few fleeting moments of panic. With no time to consider a counter, the smaller Sinclair was back in the last place to wanted, secure within the grasp of her much stronger rival, and despite a brief protest her smaller frame was ripped off her remaining peg, the petite frame of the Former Lightweight Champion hupped high into the air before being whipped straight back down into the mat, the back of her neck and shoulders DRILLED into the canvas!
With a grunt, groan and visible shiver, Sammie flopped out into a starfish, shuddering out a deep breath before she remained idle, the vigour of her resurgence proved fragile as the adrenaline was smashed right out of her small body.
Lying next to her foe, Beth looked no better and both women lie next to the other, drawing in deep breaths but little more for several seconds. In unison they start to rouse, slowly reaching all fours together. The two stretch for each other, grappling for control while they move to one knee and then finally to their feet. Getting her hands on Sammie's shoulders, Beth pushes her dark-haired rival back for a little elbow room. Finding it, the ginger cowgirl spins toward an approaching Sammie, looking to take her head off with a discus clothesline...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFe0xFSaMPM
Which Sammie barely saw coming, the Most prolific of the Sinclairs widening her pretty peepers as a forearm came hurtling towards her noggin. Ducking her head low she could almost feel the whistling wind shear creating a new parting, her curls billowing from the near impact as she instinctively dashed a few steps. The two young women were all but immediately spinning at the same time as the brunette made her own gambit, hoping that, on this occasion, the second time would prove to be the charm as she re-launched a renewed Sammie Kick...
And the boot catches the jaw of Bareback Beth flush. Jenkins spins in a drunken pirouette, the redhead somehow staying on her feet for a full 360 until Sammie gives Beth some of the medicine the cowgirl was hoping to prescribe to her, dropping the dazed Jenkins with a leaping clothesline that rips Beth off the deck. Jenkins' backbone and shoulders THUMP against the canvas and a momentary effort to use the impact to bounce back to a seated position proves fruitless. Instead, Beth settles to horizontal, staring blankly into the rafters, baby blues blinking wide, chest rolling as she draws in deep breaths, the freckled grappler showing the wear that comes with battling Sammie when she's on form.
As so often proves to be the case, momentum was a faithful ally to Babyface competitors everywhere, Sinclair’s brief flight through the air lending her landing a dashing, if slightly stumbling stride over to the nearest corner. She didn’t pause for breath, not with the stars aligning as she grasped the top ropes, the lights bright as the Golden Girl immediately began climbing. For a girl who harboured a secret fear of heights, she found her footing upon the top coils quickly enough, standing tall and balancing as though she was born there.
Looking outwards into the crowd, the Leader of the Upstart Nation raised her hands up high and began clapping, rallying the Loyalist Legionnaires in their common cause.
ONCE!
The thunderous percussion sounded about the entire arena, willing their little heroine to jump.
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
With the smallest nodding of her elfin head, Sammie tucked her petite body into crouch before she positively LAUNCHED skywards, diving backwards into the jaw dropping Sinclair Summer Slam!!
@1:24: Sinclair Summer Slam
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoxyK344sfs
Sammie launches HIGH into the Orlando night, the crowd roaring at an incredible volume as she takes off and spins through not one BUT TWO rotations above the splayed Jenkins. There seems to be a hint of awareness from Beth as her cowboy boots shuffle against the canvas in a withering attempt to push her from Sammie's destination. The effort proves in vain as Sinclair SPLASHES across the already bruised abdomen of the debilitated redhead. The THUMP of Sammie's landing draws a loud 'OOOOH' from the crowd and every last bit of breath and fight from Beth.
The cradle from Sammie is anticlimactic and likely unnecessary, still the Upstart balls the otherwise motionless and semiconscious Beth, the ginger's shoulders pressed to the canvas, her ass pointed to the ceiling for a loud and boisterous...
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5zXinAj5TI
Sammie pushed herself off from Jenkins the moment the Officials hand slapped the mat for the third time and her new music began playing for the second time tonight, the shattered Sinclair rolling away onto her knees as she released her rival, allowing the Cowgirls stems to flop out lifeless. After one more moment to collect herself, Sammie accepted the assistance of the Official to return to boot leather, enduring his brief examination to see if she really was concussed.
Apparently satisfied that she could indeed stand under her own power, the man in black in white raised her right arm high in victory and the People roared their approval for the triumphant Princess, the young women of their affections blushing a thankful crimson. She raised her other hand as the Official left her to it, moving on to see to the splayed out Jenkins whilst Sammie soaked up her moment, the Leader of the Upstart Nation playfully swishing her hips, performing a short, little dance as the FAWNatics cheered and she felt relief flooding through her small body.
It felt good to prove Jenkins wrong, at least on this occasion, it felt even better to be back to winning ways. She held onto the feeling even as she ached from button nose to tippy toes, approaching the closest corner and climbing to the second turnbuckle. With hands held high, she was ready for the future, and the next name that was already prepared to call her out.
For a few, fleeting moments, the unfamiliar chords caught the FAWN Faithful flat footed, for while the undeniably upbeat rhythm encouraged a positive reception, it wouldn’t be the first time in recent memory that they had been deceived. The moment the all too familiar and all too endearing graphic for the Upstart Nation flashed into view upon FAWNTRON however, all hesitation was discarded and a hearty cheer ripped forth across the packed arena as the Loyalist Legionnaires, gathered in their thousands, pledged their allegiance to the peppiest of factions once more.
The moment Samantha Sinclair appeared on stage, accompanied by her new year track, that was when the FAWNatics truly lost their sh*t, the Leader of the Upstart Nation standing as tall as her perfectly petite mass would allow her, catching the light in all the right places as she whipped both her arms up high and waved. Five foot four and one hundred and ten pounds of athletically sculptured, miniature might, Sammie Sinclair was every inch the People’s Princess as she cheered back, shimmering in her golden/yellow attire and blushing fiercely with her dimple, freckled cheeks flushing a delightful crimson.
Her change in tunes was not the only alteration for a new year as, on her first PPV of twenty-fifteen she also sported a fresh variation on her snugly fitting and bright ensemble. Her sports bra remained the same, smoothly curved about her small, proud bosom, leaving her softly sculptured tummy bare and her upraised arms the same way. It was to be her boy cut shorts that had apparently vanished, replaced instead by a short skirt which, with a generous slit running up the right side, revealed a wonderful shot of her firm thigh as the baby brown eyed darling hopped up onto her tip toes and spiralled. Her boots were similarly altered, still bright blue and reaching upwards to just beneath her kneecaps, they were now tanned from firm leather and sported lacing right up the front.
With the flourish of her spiral completed, the People’s Princess set her feet apart and kept her fingers wiggling heavenwards, nodding to her followers with a knowing smirk and, as she brought her palms together for a loud CLAP!! the Loyalist Legionnaires followed through as one.
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
And with her statement of intent made clear she pointed directly towards the squared circle, a hearty explosion of pyrokenetics erupting to either side of the stage that she was standing on. Samantha Sinclair was here and, with a joy induced skip she head down the aisle at a swift sprint, the second generation superstar with chocolate curls bouncing free about her slender shoulders now a little older, a little wiser and, after the last year was no longer only of Championship Pedigree, she was of proven Championship Quality. The girl was now a young woman, and she was looking all the bolder for it.
Fearless? Perhaps not, the Little Sparrow would be the first to admit to her short fallings, but nerve?
She most defiantly had nerve.
The moment Sinclair reached the squared circle, the Golden Girl took her short detour right ways and, much to the delight of those who found themselves closet, Sammie began clapping every outstretched hand that she discovered, paying particular attention to the youngest in attendance. Beating a fast track around the ring, she soon found herself back at start, a run, skip and jump taking her clean up onto the apron. Grasping the top coil with both her paws, the Bright Eyed Wonder leaned back and, following a cheeky shake her pert buttocks, she shot right over the top rope with an applause worthy sault.
Landing lightly on her feet and clapping once more, she paused only to collecting the microphone from an all too willing Announcer, bringing the mic to lips with a slightly embarrassed grin.
“Like the new tunes?” she queried, her smile brightening further as the cheers increased in tempo, her first PPV appearance of the new year being well received, especially when she swished her hips to remind them of her new attire as well. “Glad to hear it! Unfortunately, that’s not the only thing we’re had to hear this month, in fact, this last month I’ve been hearing a whole heck of a lot from one person in particular.”
She paused for a moment, the People’s Princess indulging a dramatic moment as she attempted, and largely failed, to look as serious as possible.
“Now everyone is entitled to their opinion, and it’s pretty clear that Beth Jenkins has hers,” as the Loyalist Legionnaires began booing, Sammie made a motion for them to ‘calm down’, perhaps taking a page out Charlie Dawson’s book, her beloved Upstarts newest recruit. They didn’t much do so, but Sammie wasn’t about to scold them for it, “and she isn’t afraid about who knows it. Now you see, last year she fought me for my Lightweight Title, and had it not been for Soledad Sanchez, had it not been a Triple Threat Match, if it had been one on one, just me and her well, Beth believes that she had me beat. I’ve had some time to think on this and, well,” her answer was left hanging, Sinclair pulling out the moment, “I can admit that she might be right.”
The FAWNatics were frankly shocked to hear her say it, and most of them were not prepared to have it, vocally leaping to the Little Sparrows defence as if she were being blinded by misplaced modesty.
“No, its ok,” she smiled back sincerely, freckled cheeks reddening again in gratitude, “it’s true, and that’s not a bad thing. Beth is bigger than me, she’s stronger than me, she has more experience than me, she was the Lightweight Champion before me and, on that night, she had me tied up good and proper, she may even have had me outmatched. Had Soledad not been there, had she not been involved, well, maybe Beth could have beaten me. Of course,” she paused again, this time trailing her thought out with an impish smirk, “what could have been and what WOULD have been are two different things!”
The FAWNatics much preferred this train of thought, letting her know so with renewed applause.
“Beth believes that she would have won? That’s fine with me, what would be even better is if she would shut up already and come out here and prove it!! So come on Beth, I’m here, you’re here, let’s get it done!!”
With the sappy sweetheart of the People’s Mob making challenges she couldn’t back up and her followers blissful in their ridiculous allegiance to their Princess, “Wildflower” by Jane Dear Girls announces the next woman to place herself in harm’s way.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0IhlquYlI
FAWN’s infamous cowgirl appears and the welcome is far from welcoming. The freckled redhead is clad in her trademark attire, Arizona state flag patterned vest—small enough to leave a sliver of midsection bare—blue thong bottoms and matching chaps. Her feet are adorned in a pair of battered old cowboy boots, spurs clicking against the floor as she saunters down the aisle. A coiled lasso is attached to her hip, and sitting atop her head is a cowboy hat with a curved brim.
Ignoring the jeers and catcalls from the crowd, the Pale Rider strides directly and determinedly toward the squared circle. The redhead looks as though she’s headed down the Main Street of old Tombstone at high noon, keeping out of the reach of those extending for a handshake or high-five as if they’re contaminated.
As she reaches the ring, the PA makes Sammie’s foe an official one.
“And her opponent...hailing from Tombstone, Arizona, standing 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing in at 124lbs… BAREBACK BETH JENKINS!”
The redhead walks to the announcer’s table. Beth turns in her spurs, lasso and ten-gallon for a microphone. Bareback raises the stick to her rosy lips as she walks back to the ring steps and strides up. Halting just after she slips through the ropes.
“If it isn’t the Queen of the Upstarts,” Jenkins says, striding up and down the length of the ring, keeping her eyes on Sinclair. “How’s it feel to come back to earth? Now that everyone has figured you out, the wins are few and far between.”
The crowd is not at all happy with the comment and lets Jenkins know. Beth clearly doesn’t care.
“But those losses pale in comparison to the humiliation I’m going to heap on you, so get ready to take another break because you’ll need it.”
Beth tosses the stick away and moves back to her corner opposite the Upstart. The ginger cowgirl drops into an expectant crouch, nodding and badmouthing Sammie not quite under her breath.
Sammie made the smallest of short sighs, bouncing slightly between heel and toe and made herself comfortable in her own corner, eyes of baby brown not leaving Beth as she was taunted. She resisted the urge to scrunch her button nose in babyfaced anger, leaning forwards with her hands on knees as if she were ready to explode forwards the very moment she was given permission. Everything she had said about Beth being her physical superior had not been made in jest, the very real reality being that it was true, at the very least it was in all but one department.
“For the record Jenkins,” Sammie cut through Beth’s angry grumblings her own, bold statement, “I’ve never left Earth.”
As the bell rang the two Rivals were released from their inaction, the two Former Lightweight Champions zeroing in to lock up for the second time in their careers. Only as they smacked together with a fierce grapple of young limbs, Sinclair almost immediately surrendered the test of strength, instead opting to drop and curl backwards, attempting to roll her weight into a tumble and, with the soles of her new boots jutting upwards towards an opposing tummy, Monkey Flip the cowgirl high into the air!
Thumping her body into Sammie's and feeling it give delights Jenkins no end and she starts to push the Brit backwards toward the corner behind her foe. But Sinclair has different ideas. She drops to her back, propping her feet forward and up and into the redhead's thighs. A little too happy with forcing Sammie into reverse, Beth has all her weight moving forward and it proves the perfect advantage to send Jenkins tumbling over like a ginger monkey, Beth landing on her bum. The cowgirl grimaces, one hand going to her tailbone, but she's up quickly. Spinning toward Sammie, Beth's ready to pay her back with a simple right cross to the chin.
As if she were determined to sell the hell out of the world’s worst botched spot, Sammie threw herself backwards as though she had been pole axed, the swing and miss showing the air above the Upstarts head who was boss but little else. None the less, Sinclair hit the canvas across her shoulders and, with a perfect curling of her small frame soon revealed she was entirely in control of what she was doing, athletic stems shooting upwards as she weaponised FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up, wrapping her calves about Beth’s red headed noggin and attempted to wrench her off her feet by way of Frankensteiner...
@0:12
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yUMRpc1_dyY
Knowing better than anyone her fist had missed, Jenkins seems in a fog as to why Sammie's hit the deck. Nevertheless, Beth moves toward her foe, reaching down to gather up Sinclair's legs at the ankles. But well before she's able, the People's Princess sends her sinewy legs heavenward and again they clamp down around Beth's noggin. Yanking back with those stems, Sammie sends the Arizona cowgirl flying, Beth flipping forward and SLAMMING to the canvas on her backbone.
With Sammie mid-clinic on how to send a girl flying around the ring, Beth decides to stay down and buttscoots her way to a corner where she begs off, holding up a pair of plaintive palms before fashioning them into a 'T', asking the official to stop the match until she can compose herself.
As Jenkins was retreating, Sammie was moving, FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up being used for its intended purpose and positively shooting the Little Sparrow right up to vertical with a crowd pleasing flourish. A short wave and a spinning of her hips allowed Sinclair to quickly track down her opponent and, with Beth fashioning her own paws into a plea for a time out, Sam seemed to consider doing so with a titling of chocolate curled noggin.
The answer was evidently no as, with an impish impulse she was almost immediately poetry in motion, dashing across the mat and straight towards the sitting Jenkins, bouncing into a deft little hop just as she grasped the ropes to either side of the corner turnbuckle. With athletic stems spread open wide, she pendulum swung her pert, little buttocks downwards, the Cowgirl but a moment away from being on the wrong end of a bronco!
And the pert toosh THUMPS into Beth's chest, the cowgirl's body rattled by each thrust. As the impacts accumulate, Beth slips lower and lower until Sammie's skirt covers the head of Bareback for some pumps, the Brit's crotch CRUNCHING into Beth's features. The impact is no less jarring as the crowd counts Sammie up to "TEN". Only then does the ref's demand for Sinclair to get out of the ropes register and, when Sammie dismounts, Beth is left a dazed, glassy-eyed grappler. Jenkins lies vertical on the canvas, having completely slipped off the buckles, gazing blankly into the rafters above.
“Sammie,” the Official scolded the Leader of FAWN’s most Babyface Faction and, as the People’s Princess looked distinctly sheepish concerning her behaviour, he immediately stopped short of going further.
“I know, I know,” the People’s Princess made a respectful backpedal with her palms upraised, freckled cheeks a bright red as she smirked bashfully, “sometimes it can’t be helped. You realise that she’s no longer in the ropes right?” she helpfully pointed out to him and, as he flustered over an answer, Sammie took that as permission to resume and collected a pair of ankles.
“Remind me Beth,” Sinclair questioned whilst tugging on the shell shocked cowgirls boots and pulling the bigger lightweight towards centre ring, “is this the part where you would have been beating me?” Dropping her cargo, Samantha scooted to the side and, after a cute little pivot, flipping her entire frame backwards into the air, the backflip senton bringing her bare, softly sculptured tummy down to slap against Beth’s equally exposed midriff.
But as Sammie is airborne, the struggling Beth manages to pull her knees in and tuck her body in preparation of the Brit's landing. Sinclair's belly is blasted by the bony knees of the redhead and Sammie goes tumbling away after a loud 'oooof'.
Hugging her tummy, Sammie ends on her back, shifting from side to side, her face pinched in pain. Jenkins sits up and grunts out a soft "Yeah, it is."
Bareback struggles to her feet, trying to shake off the fast start by the Upstart. She corrals Sammie just as the button-cute Babyface makes her knees. Grabbing Sinclair around the noggin in a front facelock, Beth prepares to throw her weight backward, lay out, and send the crown of Sammie's head SMASHING into the deck with a DDT!!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8NDb2XuTIU
Sammie ‘erked!’ almost meekly as she was suddenly and securely corralled, pawing ineffectively at the limb wrapped about her throat as she was forced to remain penitent, her throat constricted and head squeezed. A severe wrench forced a louder, pained ‘ERK!!” from her smaller body and, as Beth threw herself backwards, it was Sinclair’s turn to follow and the crown of her delightful noggin was PLANTED into the mat!
Short the fall may have been, and yet it clearly remained devastating, Sammie’s back spasming into a felines curve before she slumped, the tip of one boot tapping out a code against the plywood as she shivered. After a short moment the Bright Eyed Wonder gamely placed her palms against the canvas to push herself upwards, only for them to slip after an aborted effort and she remained face downwards, groaning quietly as her blasted braincase struggled to catch up with the sudden reversal.
But while Sammie's forehead rests against the canvas, her bum is still raised and the newly vertical Beth is provided too inviting a target. She lines up and gives the bum a right soccer-style boot to the cheeks sending Sammie sprawling.
Growing in confidence, Beth plays to the crowd, making a pantomime lasso with her raised right hand before dropping a big elbow to the back of Sammie's skull. Jenkins seems to enjoy the soft 'yip' from the Upstart so she rises and drops it again and again. After the third, she shoves Sammie to her back, fashions her right hand into a claw and sinks the fingers into Sinclair's face and forehead, going old school with the iron claw. Her ruby nails dig into the facial features of the Brit, Beth pressing her left hand atop her right to increase the pressure.
Sammie’s lithe frame snapped from flaccid to rigid in an instant, the very moment the claws were clamped in place the Most Prolific of the Sinclair’s arched her trim tummy sharply up into the air, a cry upon her lips as though she had been electrocuted. After several, long seconds of her body trembling, rocked by the sheer intensity of the pain digging into her temples, the young women flopped, pretty peepers fluttering as she continued moaning, gazing almost blindly upwards into Beth’s self satisfied, unflinching gaze. Already driven down onto her back, there was no-where else for the Golden Girl to go, her fingers opening and closing erratically as the pain impulses to her brain struggled to comprehend what was happening.
Eventually she brought her arms up, the tortured young women hiking in a sharp breadth, popping her small bosom skywards as she grasped her opponent’s wrist. Wincing and whimpering, she tried to pull the talons free, her directions more instinctual than determined, the heels of her boots scraping backwards and forwards across the canvas with ever increasing urgency.
Beth grits her perfect pearlies, trying to keep the struggling Sammie down. The startled look on the cowgirl's face grows as the pained brunette continues on her upward path despite having Beth's digits inserted into her face.
The Brit first makes her knees and then her feet. Sinclair looks near ready to lose consciousness, but her looks are apparently deceiving. Unfortunately for Sammie's minions, an anxious Beth DRIVES a knee into the Upstart's gut once vertical, doubling her over. Moving her left hand to get a grip of Sammie's skirt, her right hand still flexing into Sinclair's face, Beth dips to gain the strength needed to lift the lightweight off the deck and THROW her back down with a CLAW SLAM and end this ridiculous stubbornness.
After being gutted so efficiently, Sammie’s wonderfully petite frame was putty in her taller rival’s hands, slumping in her opponents grasp as her world inexorably dimmed towards darkness. There was a small mewl as her skirt was hiked upwards to be used as leverage, perhaps the only sign of life as Beth proved that she was most defiantly the stronger of the duo, hupping the ragdolled Golden Girl clean off her boot leather and viciously DRILLING the abused base of the young women’s braincase back into the canvas!!
The rest of Sinclair followed soon after and, somehow, perhaps aided by her sheer vindictiveness, Beth had kept the will sapping claw hold in place, squeezing her opponent’s skull even as Sammie’s arms and legs bonelessly flopped out into a prone starfish. Beth, sensing opportunity, straddled the smaller brunette’s hips, firm buttocks planted possessively upon her new throne that was Sinclair’s trim tummy, boring down even harder with her vicious claw hold and demanding that the Official begin counting.
The man in stripes did precisely that, dropping to the mat and bringing his palm down with him...
One!
Tw...
With no leverage pressed down against them, Sammie threw up a slender shoulder, defiant even with her eyelids fluttering towards closing and her cry becoming a moan.
The cowgirl turns her pale, freckled face toward the official and the baby blues shoot out like a laser. "Not even two?" she protests.
The man shrugs.
Beth gets back to work, grasping a wrist of the flattened Upstart. She tugs Sammie to her feet, keeping her foe's left arm extended. The redhead hops one leg over the limb so she can have it scissored then reaches across the back of the brunette, grabbing for Sammie's right arm, hoping to slip her grip underneath, wrench back, and shred the abs of the People's Princess into pieces and into a submission.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWfw3Xf-sWQ
Sinclair was in a bad way and the Loyalist Legionnaires could see it, the Leader of the Upstart Nation precisely where she needed not to be and having her greatest advantage reduced to nothing. With her dimple cheeked noggin swaying from left to right upon slumped shoulders, she was being effortlessly trussed up for further torment just as she had been a year earlier, only this time there was no Soledad Sanchez to intervene. One arm was firmly secured and then the othe...
Sammie suddenly slipped her left arm free and, as a thousand voices caught in a thousand throats, the Tiny Titan dropped down onto the canvas, using the arm that the Cowgirl herself had thrust between her thighs to wrench an astonished Jenkins right off her feet. A rapid tumble and roll followed the unexpected collision between Beth and Canvas and Sammie, hooking a pair of terrific stems along the way, tucked her rival into a tight pinfall, the Official already there to begin counting...
Beth wiggles and waggles in Sammie's grip, shoulders pressed to the canvas, butt cheeks pointed to the ceiling and the crowd counts along with the totally unexpected...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
Jenkins breaks out of the ball in the nick of time!!!
Both women scramble to their feet, but the Cowgirl is there with just enough extra to again drive a knee into Sammie's aching abs, stopping the Upstart in her tracks with a chirpy grunt. Furious Sinclair had almost stolen the win, Beth bullies the smaller grappler to the nearest corner, then slides behind the Golden Girl. Wanting to tarnish her foe in a big way, Beth climbs the ropes behind her, ending with a stance on the middle cables while maintaining a clenched fist in Sammie's locks.
"That nose of hers really is going to be a button after this," she shouts, before placing a knee to the back of Sammie's skull, ready to ride her down to the canvas and splatter her with a Calf Branding
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vi-SMa18DQ0
With her second wind quite literally stolen the very moment she had tried to take it, Sammie was once again ragdolled within Beth’s ‘tender mercies’ delivered to a corner and, after a second kneelift to her aching, trim tummy before Jenkins began ascending, she was convinced her to remain compliant. There was a slight fluttering of alarm from the young women’s baby brown peepers, but there was little more that she could do as the Cowgirl road her like a surfboard towards the waiting canvas.
The THUNK!! of a sprites noggin being crushed between knee and plywood was mercifully louder than her grunt of misery, shapely stems bucking sharply upwards at the knee. The shockwave that rocked her body refused to stop there though, the English Import of Perfectly Petite Proportions thrust sideways up and over as the mat flexed beneath her abused body, vaulting her up towards sitting. She remained there for a long heartbeat, her hands puddled into the small space between her thighs before, with a miserable moan; she slopped over, arms tangling themselves up in the middle ropes as some part of her struggled for survival.
Knowing she had likely given Sinclair something at least close to a concussion, Beth shovels the dazed Sammie to her back, spreading her out like butter on toast. Bareback Beth crawls atop the smaller brunette in a full body pin, grapevining her legs around those of Sinclair, the redhead chest to chest and freckled nose to freckled nose for the...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE....
With the smallest of moans, Sammie thrust up a shoulder, breaking the count with but a moment to spare. Defiant though she was, she almost immediately returned to settled, a quite murmur upon her lips as her arm inadvertently slipped across her Rivals shoulders, holding her close as though in a tender embrace.
With Sammie's arm readily available, Beth gathers a tight grip on the limb and starts to push Sinclair over toward her back, ready to pin the arm amidst her legs if she could get to a kneel. The plan would then be to grab the near leg fold it up and around her body then shove a knee into Sammie's head when she had her tied in a particularly nasty knot Beth called the Buckle Bunny Twist.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qw55-BvV_fQ
If Samantha had been near unconscious before, she didn’t remain that way for long, Beth hooking one athletic limb and, with vindictive intent, WRENCHED the sculptured stem in entirely the wrong direction, contorting the Little Sparrows tiny frame into a agonising ‘O’, a heartfelt cry her only reply to be awoken. As much as she wanted to keep it in, the planted knee digging deep into the base of her once, terribly wounded neck forced her to do anything but, the young women clenching her peepers shut as she shook and shivered in agony. Blindly she thrust out with one, free arm, searching for any form of salvation, pert buttocks forced to point upwards by her opponent, her will reaching the limits of even its infamous tolerance.
But Sammie can hear her father in her ear and she scoots the extra inch or two she needs to wrap a palm around the bottom rope. She squeaks for a release and after four torturous seconds, Jenkins gives up her knotted Englishwoman. Sammie sighs as her body slips out of the submission, the People's Princess ending on her chest, mewling.
For her part, the redhead rises to her feet and grabs Sammie by the ankles.
Immediately Sinclair snatches hold of the rope with her opposite hand. When Beth tugs on the lower limbs, Sammie gets stretched out and, to fight being pulled away, her grips move to the middle rope and finally the top. Still, Bareback Beth tugs, but unable to rip her off, the freckled cowgirl decides to punt Sammie in the gut to loosen her up and then rip her away for a likely face-first planting to the canvas.
With her trim tummy already red and abused from repeated knee lifts, there were little defence remaining when Sammie, stretched to her full extension, was SPIKED!! by a missile loaded toe her unprotected midriff. Gutted from the moment of impact, the Bright Eyed Wonder ‘GUFFED’ out in alarm, freckled features puffing outwards as her miniature mass was bucked sharply upwards at the midway point, her fingers slipping free from the top rope so that, even in midflight, she could wrap her arms about her punished waist.
This proved to be an error as, with the Loyalist Legionnaires voicing their despair, gravity took hold, Sammie’s grip twanging free and the smaller brunette plummeted ground ward, her forehead SMACKING into the canvas with a wince inducting THUNK! Sinclair recoiled as though struck by lightning, whiplashing over onto her shoulders as she immediately switched the cradling of one pain for another, the Former Lightweight Champion at the ever decreasing mercy of her predecessor.
A grinning Beth raises an arm high to whirl a pantomime lasso above her head as she strolls around the battered Sinclair. Bareback places the heel of her cowboy boot atop Sammie's chest, arrogantly pinning the Brit for...
ONE!
TWO!!
...and Sammie throws a shoulder up to the obvious displeasure of Jenkins. "Have a hankerin' for more Beatdown, do you? Well that can be arranged."
Beth grabs Sinclair by her dark mop and drags Sammie to all fours. Beth mounts the Upstart, straddling her like a rider. She lifts her right hand high and curls it into a claw that starts to head behind her and Sammie, Beth rotating her right shoulder in order to deliver the crotch claw that made up her signature Eight Second Ride.
Just like the bad bronco that Beth had always decided that Samantha must be, the Most Prolific of the Sinclair’s refused to be a good mount and dropped her small body downwards, robbing Jenkins of her unwilling stead and rendering her unbalanced. Falling had proven to be an easy enough task for the battered Sammie to accomplish, but she had more in mind as she rolled sideways onto her back, scrunching up her button nose and reminding everyone than she was as much a scrapper as anyone.
Pulling her right stem in tight to her own, small bosom, the Golden Girl puffed out her freckled cheeks a little more and kicked upwards, the sole of one boot rocketing in-between the open thighs of an overconfident cowgirl.
Disappointed in having her ride ended so quickly by her bronco buckling, the redhead reaches down for another handful of mane when Sinclair shoots her boot upward into a rather surprising and sensitive area. The upward stomp finds its target and Beth's face instantly turns from dominant to anguished, her eyes almost instantly welling. Jenkins raises to tiptoes from the impact, rosy lips curling into an 'O'. Sinclair adds a quick retaliatory grind for good measure and that extra touch sends a mewling Bareback to her knees, hands buried deep between her thighs. The redhead tries to squeak out a curse at Sinclair but it won't come through the waves of pain from below.
“If it makes you feel any better,” an exhausted Sammie huffed, still splayed out across her back and unable to return to vertical as quickly as everyone would like, “I’ll be hearing about that from Chloe.” As satisfying as it had been, the surge of adrenaline wasn’t enough to spark her into action, the Leader of the Upstart Nation slumping as she largely remained idle, an aborted kip up confirming that she may very well be concussed, rapid blinking of baby browns refusing to refocus her vision.
In the end, the ropes proved to be ally to both young women, redhead and brunette tugging upon the coils at opposite ends of the squared circle in a race to find their feet. It was a race that Jenkins was destined to win, massaging her abused womanhood and scowling whilst the Tiny Titan opposite was only halfway to her objective. Setting off at a run, the Cowgirl had a knee ready to repay the most recent debt...
Only for Sammie to use gravity to her advantage, waiting until the last moment as she dropped down, grabbing the top rope and yanking it earthwards with her, avoiding the hurtling the joint and, hopefully, depriving Jenkins of any leverage to stop herself.
Focused on nothing else but hellacious payback for Sinclair's offense, Bareback's eyes go wide when Sammie makes the way open for an unexpected detour. The freckled cowgirl from the Southwest tries to grab the ropes as she goes sailing over, but her grip misses and she zooms past the outside apron, heading straight for the floor. A meaty thwack reverberates as she hits the thinly-padded cement and rolls to a pained heap. Jenkins leans against the steel barrier, FAWNatics reaching over to pat her on the head. And there she lies, trying to untangle her limbs and make her way to a seat.
Common sense would dictate that the match weary Sinclair leaves her bigger, stronger opponent be outside the ring to possibly be counted out and yet, for all her qualities, common sense was generally not considered to be amongst them. Instead she took off for the ropes opposite, the FAWNatics popping with applause as she displayed an increase in renewed vigour, the English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions soon launching off them like a rocket. She wasn’t finished just yet, returning to start and returning to acrobatics, ‘following’ Jenkins example and launching herself over the top coil, albeit by way of dive, a high risk splash packaged and delivered for Beth’s ‘enjoyment’.
@0:20
www.youtube.com/watch?v=10AInXN_P3o
Beth finds the wherewithal to push to her feet and that turns out to be very bad news for Bareback. Shoving away from the barricade behind her to get back to the apron, Jenkins makes it only half way there. Interrupting her is the rare flying Sammiebird and she swoops down toward Jenkins. Beth tries to get her arms up to catch the plummeting Sammie and she does to a degree, but the force with which the People's Princess SLAMS into Jenkins is all too much for Beth to deal with. The redhead tumbles over and Sinclair sandwiches her to the deck with Upstart authority, a loud 'ooooph' escaping Beth's lips as she's crushed underneath Sammie's awesome landing.
The FAWNatics roar with glee at the aerial assault and its success and it only grows when Sinclair rolls off the flattened Beth and kips to her feet with a flourish.
FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up received the usual pop that was as invigorating as it was vocal, Sammie’s next stop at the apron only a brief one as she shook her head and blinked her peepers. She waved a quick hand for the Legionnaires to confirm that she was ‘doing fine’ before she took one last moment to readjust her new skirt, tugging it downwards by a fraction into a slightly less revealing position. Deciding that the Loyalist’s in attendance deserved a bit better, the Upstart raised her hands up high and began clapping, a rapid three beat rhythm that was soon taken up by her followers and was her march to war.
“Any of this starting to sound familiar?” she queried, marching back on over to Jenkins and, with paws beneath the other young women’s shoulders, hoisted her back towards vertical. With a retaliatory kneelift from earlier keeping her equally freckled counterpart compliant, Sinclair tucked and rolled Beth back into the ring.
Up on the apron herself soon after, Sammie grasped the top rope and leaned backwards, mimicking her posture that heralded her arrival into the squared circle at the beginning of each contest. With a spring in her step, the petite brunette hurled her mass into a forwards flip, tucking into a neat little ball at the arcs apex and, instead of aiming to land gracefully upon her tootsies; she instead opted to weaponise her taunt little toosh, a butt drop aimed squarely for a Cowgirls bosoms.
Looking much the worse for wear, the redhead groans as she shakes her head softly from side to side, trying to rouse her body and brain to the increased level Sammie has brought the match. But as Beth starts to rise, Sammie is already slingshoting her way into the ring to join the battered cowgirl. Beth looks up to see brunette ball of Upstart tumbling through the air toward her. She tries to scoot out of the way, but the split-second she has doesn't prove enough time and...THUMP...Sammie's bum hits home.
The cheeky landing flattens Beth's modest chest and drives the wind right out of the ginger. As Sammie skids off the impact, Beth spasms from the attack but quickly falls motionless, starfished on the deck, seemingly out of her depth in trying to slow down the Upstart.
The People’s Princess on the other hand was doing anything but, popping back up onto her feet with a fresh bounce and delightful little twirl, brunette curls and golden skirt spinning in crowd pleasing unison. She looked every inch a past and future champion as she swept her right leg upwards, the athletic stem displaying her flexibility as she held it raised and braced against her shoulder. Freckled cheeks flushed a fresh tint of crimson as the crowd reaction confirmed that her original, signature manoeuvre and new attire revealed a bit more, taunt little buttock than she had perhaps imagined.
The Gladiatrix Photographers were happy enough to capture the moment and Sammie pushed up onto the tippy toes of her left foot and dropped downwards a second later into a rapid, plummeting splits, her right stem transformed into a scything limb, aimed to slam down across Beth’s shoulders for a thumping pin!!
@6:14: Sammie Scythe
www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0TH0r9vCIM
Sammie's extended leg SLAMS down across Beth's shoulders and chest, sending another shudder through the battered and beaten cowgirl. The pert patoot of Sinclair rests just south of Beth's chin, the redhead plastered under it for the...
ONE!
TWO!!
THREENOO!!!
Somehow Jenkins shoves up again, this time with the official's hand no more than an inch from the third slap. She rolls to her side under Sammie's relatively slight weight to make sure she couldn't get an immediate replay of the pinning attempt.
While the FAWNatics were convinced that the Official had gotten it wrong, Sammie knew immediately that he was right. As fond as she was of her original finisher, Sinclair had soon found out that didn’t have quite enough umpf to put away the big leaguers past development, and so her arsenal had evolved to become more ‘fearsome’. With a theatrical spinning of her lower limbs, Sammie was back up to vertical, encouraging Jenkins to return with her, pushing the unsteady Cowgirl away so she could deliver a tenderiser. The Bright Eyed Wonder needed her Rival splayed out and complaint for at least a few seconds, and Sammie Kick!! to the jaw was a good way to get there!
Beth struggles to her feet at Sinclair's urging, a mottled mess from the last several minutes of Sammie dominance. Once there, her blurry eyes seek the diminutive foe. Jenkins finally wobbles in Sammie's direction and the boot of Sinclair rises toward the redhead's jaw line...
But from nowhere, the cowgirl's hands rise as well and catch the approaching leather. Bareback holds Sammie's captured leg high and Sinclair is forced to hop on her opposite number. Before Sammie can turn it in to an enziguri kick, Beth reaches forward to try and corral the brunette's noggin into a front facelock so with that, and the leg in her possession turned into a cradle, she can send Sammie over and down with a fisherman's suplex.
Quickly tucked in and tied, pulled in close to Beth Jenkins and knotted up, Sammie was granted a few fleeting moments of panic. With no time to consider a counter, the smaller Sinclair was back in the last place to wanted, secure within the grasp of her much stronger rival, and despite a brief protest her smaller frame was ripped off her remaining peg, the petite frame of the Former Lightweight Champion hupped high into the air before being whipped straight back down into the mat, the back of her neck and shoulders DRILLED into the canvas!
With a grunt, groan and visible shiver, Sammie flopped out into a starfish, shuddering out a deep breath before she remained idle, the vigour of her resurgence proved fragile as the adrenaline was smashed right out of her small body.
Lying next to her foe, Beth looked no better and both women lie next to the other, drawing in deep breaths but little more for several seconds. In unison they start to rouse, slowly reaching all fours together. The two stretch for each other, grappling for control while they move to one knee and then finally to their feet. Getting her hands on Sammie's shoulders, Beth pushes her dark-haired rival back for a little elbow room. Finding it, the ginger cowgirl spins toward an approaching Sammie, looking to take her head off with a discus clothesline...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFe0xFSaMPM
Which Sammie barely saw coming, the Most prolific of the Sinclairs widening her pretty peepers as a forearm came hurtling towards her noggin. Ducking her head low she could almost feel the whistling wind shear creating a new parting, her curls billowing from the near impact as she instinctively dashed a few steps. The two young women were all but immediately spinning at the same time as the brunette made her own gambit, hoping that, on this occasion, the second time would prove to be the charm as she re-launched a renewed Sammie Kick...
And the boot catches the jaw of Bareback Beth flush. Jenkins spins in a drunken pirouette, the redhead somehow staying on her feet for a full 360 until Sammie gives Beth some of the medicine the cowgirl was hoping to prescribe to her, dropping the dazed Jenkins with a leaping clothesline that rips Beth off the deck. Jenkins' backbone and shoulders THUMP against the canvas and a momentary effort to use the impact to bounce back to a seated position proves fruitless. Instead, Beth settles to horizontal, staring blankly into the rafters, baby blues blinking wide, chest rolling as she draws in deep breaths, the freckled grappler showing the wear that comes with battling Sammie when she's on form.
As so often proves to be the case, momentum was a faithful ally to Babyface competitors everywhere, Sinclair’s brief flight through the air lending her landing a dashing, if slightly stumbling stride over to the nearest corner. She didn’t pause for breath, not with the stars aligning as she grasped the top ropes, the lights bright as the Golden Girl immediately began climbing. For a girl who harboured a secret fear of heights, she found her footing upon the top coils quickly enough, standing tall and balancing as though she was born there.
Looking outwards into the crowd, the Leader of the Upstart Nation raised her hands up high and began clapping, rallying the Loyalist Legionnaires in their common cause.
ONCE!
The thunderous percussion sounded about the entire arena, willing their little heroine to jump.
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
With the smallest nodding of her elfin head, Sammie tucked her petite body into crouch before she positively LAUNCHED skywards, diving backwards into the jaw dropping Sinclair Summer Slam!!
@1:24: Sinclair Summer Slam
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoxyK344sfs
Sammie launches HIGH into the Orlando night, the crowd roaring at an incredible volume as she takes off and spins through not one BUT TWO rotations above the splayed Jenkins. There seems to be a hint of awareness from Beth as her cowboy boots shuffle against the canvas in a withering attempt to push her from Sammie's destination. The effort proves in vain as Sinclair SPLASHES across the already bruised abdomen of the debilitated redhead. The THUMP of Sammie's landing draws a loud 'OOOOH' from the crowd and every last bit of breath and fight from Beth.
The cradle from Sammie is anticlimactic and likely unnecessary, still the Upstart balls the otherwise motionless and semiconscious Beth, the ginger's shoulders pressed to the canvas, her ass pointed to the ceiling for a loud and boisterous...
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5zXinAj5TI
Sammie pushed herself off from Jenkins the moment the Officials hand slapped the mat for the third time and her new music began playing for the second time tonight, the shattered Sinclair rolling away onto her knees as she released her rival, allowing the Cowgirls stems to flop out lifeless. After one more moment to collect herself, Sammie accepted the assistance of the Official to return to boot leather, enduring his brief examination to see if she really was concussed.
Apparently satisfied that she could indeed stand under her own power, the man in black in white raised her right arm high in victory and the People roared their approval for the triumphant Princess, the young women of their affections blushing a thankful crimson. She raised her other hand as the Official left her to it, moving on to see to the splayed out Jenkins whilst Sammie soaked up her moment, the Leader of the Upstart Nation playfully swishing her hips, performing a short, little dance as the FAWNatics cheered and she felt relief flooding through her small body.
It felt good to prove Jenkins wrong, at least on this occasion, it felt even better to be back to winning ways. She held onto the feeling even as she ached from button nose to tippy toes, approaching the closest corner and climbing to the second turnbuckle. With hands held high, she was ready for the future, and the next name that was already prepared to call her out.