Post by alyadmirer on Jun 9, 2015 21:14:46 GMT
As the houselights fell, an unnatural air of trepidation fell about the arena, the slow creep of darkness summoning a chill that was uncommon. A slim slit of crimson red illuminated through the curtains, the identity of the arriving competitor not a mystery and yet, from reputation and history, a palpable sense of unease gathered amongst those watching.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XxlaJQGve7s
Erika Eisenberg emerged amongst the stark and piercing beat of that opening rhythm, the melody as unsettling as it was threatening, the curvaceous carnivore striding with purpose, with desire, her pace unceasing and her gaze entrancing, ice blue and calculating, alluring... perilous...
Erika Eisenberg
Attired in the skin of the dead, the blonde destroyer hugged tightly by the two piece, dark tan, snake skin top and slim line shorts, elbow long, fingerless gloves and knee high boots, she was every inch the Titan the FAWNatics feared her to be. Slowly, with cold, methodical, malicious intent, she circled the ring, refusing to acknowledge the shades that were the bystanders, moving like a predator pinning down her prey, that stare, that piercing, ravenous stare soaking in the ground upon which she would feed upon her volunteering challenger.
Suddenly, with a burst of speed, she all but leapt up onto the apron, proceeding to almost effortlessly lift one long, stunningly powerful leg over the top rope, followed quickly by the other, a slight, mirthless smile finally rising to her coldly intense features.
The Announcer, keeping his distance and finding his voice, cut through the pervading silence and made the coming contest official.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest will be an Open Challenge!! Introducing first, hailing from Berlin, Germany, standing in at 5’9” and 140lbs, the Perfect Predator, ERIKA! EISENBERG!”
That smallest of mirthless smiles remained upon her features as the houselights returned with agonising slowness, finding her corner as though she owned it, her eyes unfaltering from their gaze of the curtains which had yet to flutter open. Perhaps mockingly, perhaps sincerely, she licked her lips, a long trailing of her tongue, as the viper could hardly wait to sink her teeth in...
The FAWNatics followed her gaze, well aware of the torment and terror that Erika had sown in recent memory, unstoppable as she tore a ragged hole through their beloved favourites. Not in over a year had anyone pinned her, and still the challenge remained open, her appetite for suffering refusing to be slaked. Carol Courage had stood valiantly and yet still fallen, joining the bodies mounted before the destroyer’s feet, the Sublime Serpents throne still with room for more corpses...
The silence lingered, the shadows lengthened, the torch that needed tendering going unheeded...
It almost became unbearable...
... until the silence was broken, at long last, by the sonic assault of Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name ". The FAWNatics burst into a round of thunderous applause, knowing that while Erika might be a formidable foe, she would be facing possibly her most fierce opposition to date.
(“KILLING IN THE NAME
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8GKdH2GwaO4 )
“And her opponent,” the announcer resumes, “hailing from Tempe, AZ… she stands five feet six inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-five pounds… She is the one and only Tempe Temptress… JUUULLLIIIEEETTT BLLLOOOOOODDDWWWIIINNNDDD!!!!!!”
JULIET BLOODWIND
The Tempe Temptress emerges atop the ramp, to another deafening roar, her loss of the Intercontinental title doing precious little to dampen the FAWNatics’ love for her. Bloodwind exudes a flirtatious confidence as she struts down the steel toward the ring. The pigtailed Juliet slaps hands with the fans sitting along the ramp, her imitation deerskin string bikini and matching knee high boots leaving very little to the public's imagination, and receiving a rousing vocal endorsement. She arches a wry eyebrow at this sight of what had become an almost omnipresent sign: “CHOP ME, JULES!” But he drops that sign and flinches pretty quickly when Juliet indeed draws back her choppin’ hand.
Another fan waves a sign that had become even more a fixture, reading: "CONSIDER ME TEMPTED, TEMPE TEMPTRESS!"
And for the sentiment, as always, he is rewarded with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Bloodwind makes a complete circuit around the ring, continuing to press the flesh with the assembled fans. Her lap completed, Juliet moves quickly toward the ring, gracefully hopping onto the apron. With her back to the ropes, Juliet casts a quick glance over her shoulder at the official and the announcer before draping her arms over the top rope. The nubile Native American gives a suggestive wiggle of her hips before leaning backward, flipping herself over the top rope and landing on her feet inside the ring, Navajo Nation roaring its approval...
... and, for her part, the Tempe Temptress does NOT move to her corner. Instead, she marches straight up to Eisenberg, very nearly going chest to chest with the blonde, casting a hard gaze upward to compensate for the three inch difference in their height. “Know this, Erika,” Juliet snarls, even as the referee moves to create some space between the competitors. “I’m NOT frightened of you. Not... one... bit!”
Not a whisper of a syllable slithered from her lips as Eisenberg uncoiled, lusciously languid as she slipped her arms free from atop the ropes and slinked a full half step forwards to meet the courageous Temptress, eyes of ice blue tilted to ensnare those of darkest brown. With a long, sharp motion, Erika inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of her would be Rival as the Navajo stood undaunted, jaw clenched and shoulders firm even in the face of such a specimen.
The smile was slow in forming and mirthless in her intentions, lips quirking cruelly as Erika’s heart skipped a few beats faster. They parted for a moment, blood red and inviting, and yet before even a thought could linger, the Perfect Predator SURGED!! out of inaction, exploding into savage movement as she forcibly bodied her smaller foe backwards, arms snapping open before SLAMMING!! shut for a vicious Bearhug, the women attired in snakeskin ensnaring the beauty in deer for a suffocating embrace...
Eisenberg might not be known as a speedster, but the blonde Amazon struck with a viper’s quickness, her arms engulfing the Tempe Temptress before Juliet can even offer a squawk of protest. What probably would have been a high pitched “Eeep!” of startled alarm becomes an “Unnnnffffhhhh...” on a much lower register as Erika’s powerful arms begin to constrict. Almost as soon as she had welcomed Juliet into her arms, a shuffle of Eisenberg’s grasp lifts the Native American beauty off her feet, Bloodwind’s well-shaped legs rising to wrap around her opponent’s hips.
“C’mon, Erika,” the referee admonishes her...
Now, there is absolutely nothing illegal about a bearhug--except, of course, when one has been slapped on BEFORE the bell has rung. And rather than call for the bell, in this case the official considers it his duty to get these two separated--and to make sure Juliet is still in condition to go--first and foremost. While the ref can only use his words, a gasping Juliet tries to will her already quaking arms to rise, hoping to cock her elbows and clap them off against Eisenberg’s ears.
An audible hiss soon followed as Erika’s noggin was cracked between a pair of desperate elbows. She didn’t release, her embrace only intensified as if she were incensed by such a blunt retaliation, shoulders flexing as the German found an additional inch with which to constrict. With her opponents throat so near, the European indulged her appetite as she buried her still snarling lips in deep into the soft, cool hollow of the Native Americans smooth neck, securing her prize with a fierce suckle.
Just as the Official was about to admonish Eisenberg further, the Sublime Serpent suddenly pivoted into a rapid, powerful full circle, a low and loud growl proceeding a dominant shout the moment before she released, attempting to THROW!! Bloodwind across the ring and towards what should have been her corner, as though she were a discuss...
Juliet hits the mat HARD, skidding across the canvas and coming to a halt in a jumbled heap, just shy of the buckles. Immediately, the ref turns to the towering German, extending a reproachful finger toward her face. “You,” he barks, “stay BACK!”
His order given, the official moves toward the other competitor, Juliet slowly working her way up to a seated position. “How you feeling, Jules?” he asked. “You good to go?”
How was she feeling? Well, her lungs burned with each inhale, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. But the Tempe Temptress gives him a small nod. And it’s apparently not a convincing one. “You sure?” he asks again, as Juliet starts to pull herself up alongside the ropes.
“Just... ring... the damn bell,” Bloodwind hisses.
The zebra shrugs his shoulder, then waves a hand toward the timekeeper’s table.
Juliet staggers out of her corner, her legs threatening to falter on the first step, but she rights herself as she approaches the German predator. The Native American lifts her arms, seemingly going for a collar and elbow--only she instead plans to duck, aiming to slip in behind Eisenberg and apply a waistlock she could use to take the powerful blonde to the mat.
With a Bloodwind evading her grasp, Eisenberg curled her lip, setting her hips and planting her feet as Juliet attempted to leverage her to the canvas. The Amazonian blonde was having none of it, digging in her heels and giving not an inch, grasping a pair of her challenger’s wrists and, with a firm tug, broke them apart and elucidated a yelp from the Native American! Erika spun, coiling about her opponent to seize her within the same hold that Bloodwind had attempted...
Only for Juliet to counter, slipping free just as easily, evading the grasp before it could seal and continuing their dance, behind Eisenberg quickly enough to encircle her waist, slam her stem into the back of a thigh and cause the blonde to genuflect down onto one knee...
Juliet keeps putting her lower body to good use--more specifically this time, her feet. The dark haired beauty sends a pair of short, swift and ECHOING kicks right between Erika’s shoulder blades. The Tempe Temptress then takes off into a sprint, racing into the near ropes in front of the kneeling Eisenberg. Rebounding off the strands, Bloodwind hits the rubber coated steel and shoots back toward her opponent, launching into a low dropkick aimed at the German blonde’s jaw.
With her powerful shoulders tensing, the Harbinger of Horror ground a growl through her exposed teeth, her quite, seething anger tinged by pain following the blistering strikes against her body. Beginning to push back up, Bloodwind’s timing could not have been better, two pairs of deerskin boots slapping across the vipers jaw! Eisenberg grunted, head spinning sideways as the rest of her soon followed, albeit not in a fasion that was most expected. Many would tumble to the canvas; instead her violently enforced spiral took her upwards, momentum carrying the German Destroyer back up to her feet and, with her back turned, towards the nearest corner.
Bloodwind is back on her feet quickly--though not QUITE as quickly as her opponent, which leaves the Tempe Temptress momentarily slack-jawed. But Juliet shakes off her amazement--against a bigger, stronger and dangerous foe like Erika, every single second was crucial. She had NO time to be in awe. And, fortunately for her, the stunning German had NO way of knowing where Juliet was right now, with her back turned.
Bloodwind takes advantage of that to launch another dropkick, this one landing against Eisenberg’s back and sending the blonde crashing, chest first, into the buckles.
Scrambling to her feet, Juliet follows Eisenberg in, spinning the blonde to the corner before BLASTING the German’s bosom with a massive open hand chop--Navajo Nation responding to the resounding impact with a cry of “WHOOOOOOOOO!”
Snatching her foe’s wrist, the Tempe Temptress sets her feet, mustering all her strength into a MIGHTY Irish whip toward the opposite corner, planning to either follow her in with a running clothesline if Erika managed to remain upright, OR to DRIVE a knee into Eisenberg’s mug with a Panic Attack if she didn’t.
As the corner approached, Eisenberg twisted at the last moment, turning into the barely yielding turnbuckles with her shoulders, hissing none the less even as she allowed them to absorb the juddering impact. The recoil of the sudden stop forcibly ejected her back onto into the ring, impossibly long stems still refusing to crumble, the Curvaceous Carnivore and Navajo Native closing back in on one another at frightening speeds.
With Erika’s gait unsteady, it was Bloodwind who lead the initiative, the FAWNatics ‘WHOOPING’ as she leapt into a glorious clothesline... only for Eisenberg to catch her! So swiftly did it occur that many of those watching, those who were fiercely loyal to the Native American were still cheering even as the German snatched her from the air, encircling her hips and WHIPPING Juliet about for a Full Body Slam, Eisenberg following right behind her...
The ring shakes with the impact of the Tempe Temptress hitting the mat, followed by the Curvaceous Carnivore’s power-packed frame SLAMMING down on top of her. Eisenberg springs from the impact up to all fours, Juliet Bloodwind left sprawled underneath her, blonde and brunette forming a makeshift ‘X’. The might of Erika’s emphatic counter renders the former Intercontinental champion unable to do much more the spasm underneath her opponent, at least for the time being. And finally, the full crowd falls into a hushed, concerned silence...
With her deerskin clad rival quivering and compliant, Eisenberg’s manner became lethally languid, one hand trailing slowly across Bloodwind’s cheek. Gazing with malevolence to the hushed masses, blood red lips curling into the twitching of a smirk, she leaned down forwards to inhale deeply and savour the scent of her morsel. With the stroke of her fingers sliding into the clutch of a claw, Erika suddenly bore down with renewed vengeance, drilling her thumb and fingers deep into the temples of her victim!
Bloodwind’s eyes suddenly bulge in response to the abrupt pressure placed on her cranium, both hands instinctively flying upward to grasp and pry at Eisenberg’s wrist. But the German’s strength and her Navajo foe’s lack of leverage conspire to keep the blonde’s grip firmly in place, Juliet’s legs kicking and flailing. Somehow, though, the Tempe Temptress manages to summon enough muscle control to attempt to exert some direction over those kicks, trying to send her knees into Erika’s flank... even as Eisenberg’s crushing digits begin to compel Juliet’s tongue to push past her lips.
“Shhhhhh,” Erika cooed, leaning her lips forward to whisper in her foes ear, bearing down even harder and weathering the storm of retaliation as sweet excess. Pressed so tightly together, the Perfect Predator could savour every inch of her fresh prey, the feel of the deer’s heart beating as it fluttered with panic. “Now you are afraid,” she accused, flexing her fingers before kissing the women’s cheek.
With a sudden growl she suddenly righted, retaining her grip long enough to both drag and yank Juliet towards vertical with her, releasing only so that she could apply a new hold. “But fear will not save you!”` she warned, slipping arm between the Native American’s incredible thighs before, with what appeared to be minimal effort, muscled her skywards, slinging the smaller, courageous women up and over one, imperialistic shoulder. With a slim, taunt tummy tucked and arched across her unyielding joint, Eisenberg prepared to drop earthwards...
DROPDOWN GUTBUSTER: @4:00
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lx5Mo7oxcZ8
When Eisenberg’s knees hit the canvas, the jolt of the German’s landing runs all the way up her thighs, through her abdomen, past her chest and finally reaching her shoulders--one of which has the flaccid form of the Tempe Temptress folded across her. The removal of Erika’s claw hold had left the Navajo beauty’s body flooded with relief, and utterly unprepared for either the task of summoning a counter attack in the limited time provided by the Curvaceous Carnivore, or of absorbing the shockwave that is transferred from Eisenberg’s frame to hers. Bloodwind is sent several inches into the air before she falls to the canvas, her body attempting to curl into a protective shell--but the effort is thwarted by repeated convulsions.
Pleased with her progress, the Sublime Serpent inhaled deeply, leaning her head backwards as her spine curled, full bosom hiking as she indulged in her moment. Finding her feet soon after, Eisenberg seized her challenger once more, collecting both of the crowd favourites beloved pigtails and, by way of leverage, began dragging her slumped frame across the canvas by them.
With the bleatings of the Official going unheeded, Erika approached the furthest ropes, quite deliberately choosing the furthest target as she displayed her cargo. Finally satisfied, she released, a kick to Bloodwind’s ribs prompting her to roll over, one last tug perching the young woman’s throat over the bottom rope. The FAWNatics protested, the Harbinger of Horror revealed in their despair, dropping to one knee regardless to drive it towards the shoulders of her rival, intent on throttling her with the coils!
One hundred and forty pounds of Curvaceous Carnivore DRIVE Juliet’s windpipe into the taut, rubber coated steel. And while the cable has a small measure of elasticity to it, it’s not nearly enough to alleviate its choking effects. Again, the Tempe Temptress’ eyes begin to bulge, her boots drumming the canvas, beating out a frantic distress call. Bloodwind’s fingers wrap around the bottom rope, her biceps quaking as she tries to push upward, but Eisenberg will NOT be dislodged.
Only the referee’s count prompts the German to rise... but not for long. With a predatory smirk, Erika brings her knee plummeting down again, landing between Juliet’s shoulder blades and working to strangle the Tempe Temptress once more. With Navajo Nation unloading a torrent of jeers and insults, the official starts a new count, going the extra mile to impress Eisenberg by issuing it in her native tongue...
“EINS!
ZWEI!
DREI!
VIER!!!”
Erika rose, although to suggest that the Official possessed power felt flimsy as she scantly acknowledged his existence, barely allowing Juliet a moment as Erika slowly prowled in a small circle to survey her conquered kingdom. That moment was indeed fleeting, far too fleeting for those watching as Eisenberg leaned lower, the Perfect Predator retrieving her gasping her morsel, with another humiliating tug on her pigtails, dragged back up to standing.
“Trying times, for you and you ilk,” Eisenberg taunted, turning the Tempe Temptress about, the German moved to slap her arms closed with a terrifying embrace, intent on securing a vice like grip to pin Bloodwind’s own limbs to her sides before bearing down. “I hear, I... feel Hopkins still pining and London, poor little London, buried and left to moulder before we could embrace. I hear you have a sister,” Erika leaned forwards, whispering in the most silent of tones, “Perhaps she could substitute for sweet, succulent Shea...”
The threat to Nyssa seems to inject some steel back into the Tempe Temptress’ spine. The Navajo’s head slumps backward, most observers fearing the gesture a testament to Erika’s constriction... only her noggin swiftly reverses direction, sweeping forward, Bloodwind’s forehead SMASHING into the bridge of Eisenberg’s nose with a headbutt.
The Sublime Serpent let out a hiss, worthy of the creatures that had perished to provide her ring gear... but the blonde’s arms remain tight around her, and that limited Juliet’s options. Taking the quickest deep breath possible, the Tempe Temptress lets her head loll back, only to again change course, connecting with a SECOND headbutt... and this time, the Native American beauty can feel Eisenberg’s embrace ease--however slightly.
Bloodwind’s bosom presses into the blonde’s as she draws in a freer breath, but she wasn’t actually free yet. That would take one more headbutt, at least. And so, Juliet prepares to swing her forehead forward a third time, Navajo Nation ready to erupt the moment the Perfect Predator’s arms fell away...
And fall away they do, a snarl replacing Eisenberg’s hiss as Juliet stubbornly DRIVES with her noggin home for a third and final time, the CRACK audible several rows back and ringing between the blondes ears. Shaking her head, the German began to backpedal, an involuntary retreat she was scarcely aware of before her pace was halted, the turnbuckles pressing in between her shoulders as she became wedged within the confines of the nearest corner.
The Tempe Temptress lumbers in after her prey, the small tremor in her legs serving as a testament to the lingering damage of Erika’s offense. Still, the Navajo warrior’s gams support her long enough for her to reach the corner, where Bloodwind lowers her shoulder and RAMS it into Eisenberg’s stomach. Keeping her grip on the middle rope, Juliet draws back... only to thrust her shoulder forward a second time.
And then a third.
And a fourth.
And a FIFTH!
Bloodwind didn’t have a prayer of being able to match Eisenberg in a war of bearhugs, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have ways of depriving the Sublime Serpent of oxygen. Each blast of her shoulder forces a gasp from the German’s lips, the first few soft cries... but the last couple had been a little louder, delighting the FAWNatics to no end. Straightening up, Juliet grabs Erika’s wrist and starts to launch the blonde toward the opposite corner with an Irish whip...
...but Eisenberg still had enough breath to reverse it, the Tempe Temptress now racing toward that corner. Erika moves quickly to follow, but before Juliet’s chest or back can strike the buckles, Bloodwind instead leaps off her feet, landing on the middle buckle and spring boarding backward, twisting and extending an arm for an acrobatic clothesline.
With her own gaze narrowing, Eisenberg can see the Native American coming... and yet there is nothing the German can do to prevent it. Juliet’s forearm slams across the shoulders of the Sublime Serpent, dazzling the arena with her sheer audacity and, with plenty of heart behind her, the FAWNatics erupted as the flying beauty ripped the Amazonian blonde off of her feet, Erika grunting as she shot back first down towards the canvas!
Having gotten the powerful German off her feet, the Tempe Temptress knows exactly what to do next, draping herself across Erika’s chest and reaching to hook one long, luscious leg...
ONE!
TWO!!
Eisenberg kicks out.
The Sublime Serpent starts to rise, shaking a couple of stray cobwebs out of her head... and Bloodwind snatches a handful of gold tresses. Getting a little bit of payback for Erika’s earlier liberties with her pigtails, Juliet smirks as she drags the stooped blonde into the nearest corner. Keeping her grasp on Eisenberg’s tresses secure, the Navajo beauty BLASTS Erika’s face into the uppermost turnbuckle three times before spinning her, shoving the blonde back into the corner. And when the Tempe Temptress draws back her choppin’ hand, the FAWNatics are jubilant, more than ready to witness the Knife Edge Massacre.
KNIFE EDGE MASSACRE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8doUJsDnGL8
Grasping the top ropes, the arena ringing in her ears, Eisenberg tenses her shoulders to shove free from the corner... just as the first strike collides with her cleverage!! Within seconds a half dozen more followed, blistering strikes unloaded like lightning and CRACKING!! against pale skin so swiftly that one could be discerned from the next. Chop after chop after chop connected, alabaster flesh rapidly tanned crimson, an audible and insistent HISSSSS! bleeding out from between teeth as Erika suffered through an assault that had humbled Champions and toppled giants.
After a half down full seconds, and heaven knew how many strikes, Eisenberg noticeably slackened, still snarling as she began slumping, sinking into her prison. A full dozen seconds later, Juliet unloading her frustration and fury, and the titanic blonde was forcibly sat upon the middle turnbuckle, blonde noggin bobbing with pained spasms as her limp wristed fingers uncoiled from their tight grip of the ropes.
Juliet ends her barrage, only to claim a double helping of hair and yank Erika upright once more. Maintaining her grasp on Eisenberg’s main, the Tempe Temptress pivots and genuflects, taking the Amazonian blonde out of the corner with a hairmare.
Bloodwind doesn’t stay on one knee long, rising and turning again, slipping through the ropes. The Native American beauty makes quick work of scaling her way to the top turnbuckle--which works out well, as the Perfect Predator is already struggling to her feet. Fortunately, Eisenberg’s back is to the corner, and as she turns, Juliet leaps, fashioning her hand into a knife edge once again, this time aiming to slam a tomahawk chop into the crown of Erika’s skull.
Which connects with enough force to whip Eisenberg’s head back, the blondes sculptured physique recoiling into a curl as though she had been shot. She pivoted, impossibly slowly for such a fierce impact, pivoting precariously around onto one foot until she dropped like a mountain onto her knees. With her powerful frame leaking tension, she folded further towards the canvas, the mat rushing up to catch her before the Harbinger of Horror, like some monster of myth, halted her decent, palms slapping down against plywood as she refused to black out.
If the Curvaceous Carnivore wasn’t ready to go all the way down, then the Tempe Temptress had no problems with bringing her back to her feet. Grabbing another handful of flaxen tresses, Juliet yanks Erika up from all fours, releasing her foe’s hair as she turns away from the reeling German. Reaching back and over her shoulder, Bloodwind slaps a three quarters facelock on the blonde, then starts to sprint back toward the very corner she’d launched her tomahawk from.
While the chop might not have completely turned out Erika’s lights, the Bloodhawk Plunge would almost certainly leave the blonde Amazon served up for her finisher...
BLOODHAWK PLUNGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gMuGREYMsVs
Flying up the turnbuckles at a heart skipping sprint, the FAWNatics erupted with applause as the Tempe Temptress took control, the Lightweight contender taking the Destroyer to task as, with the soles of both feet, she shoved her way free of the corner...
...only for Eisenberg to take full advantage! At the apex of her foes flight, Erika dug in her heels and snapped her arms about Juliet’s trim midriff. Halting the pivot that was to drive her face first to the canvas, the Perfect Predator stole the momentum of Bloodwind’s own leap, instead falling backwards, dragging her unwilling cargo earthwards by way of an impromptu, colossal Side Suplex!
Juliet’s legs kick out widely in a frantic effort to regain control of the situation, but to no avail--Erika Eisenberg’s backward descent will not be halted. The Perfect Predator hardly needed anything to give her own impressive strength a boost, but she is PERFECTLY willing to take advantage of any assistance offered, and the combination of Bloodwind’s charge and Eisenberg’s strength serve to practically PLANT the Tempe Temptress’ skull and shoulders into the canvas.
The Navajo’s gams shoot heavenward, Bloodwind tumbling over, landing in a boneless sprawl, face down and twitching.
The one saving grace for the FAWNatics, following the disastrous aftermath of the prevented plunge, was that Eisenberg appeared to be in no better condition to take full advantage. The Sublime Serpent lay near supine, splayed out across her back with her lusciously long legs curled upwards at the knee, arms outstretched as her bosom rose slowly... and irregularly.
The Official looked between one and the other, awaiting for some sign of life that would prevent the beginning of his count, just as the crowd willed Bloodwind to be the first to start rising...
...such hope was fleeting, Eisenberg uncoiling, sliding into a roll that took her over onto her tummy, lips flickering into a smile and stamina surged. With dangerously beguiling sleekness, the titanic blonde slid up onto her all fours, shoulders rolling as she advanced and bore down in the immobile Tempe Temptress. With the merest of prompting she shovelled the pig tailed beauty onto her back before leveraging her up to sitting. Positioned behind the Native America, the German held her prey steady with one arm before raising the other up high, clenching her fist tightly in anticipation.
“Valiant,” she purred with the whispers of poison, “but fruitless!” she declared, swinging her forearm down to begin CLUBBING!! her challengers bosom with unrestrained vengeance...
“Unnnnnnnhhhhhh...” Juliet moans, initially with a softness that doesn’t do justice to that impact. But as those clubbing blows begin to accumulate, the Tempe Temptress’ cries grow louder, more plaintive. Unfortunately, while Erika’s torrent causes more and more anguish for the Navajo warrior, they DON’T do much to rouse Bloodwind out of her stupor--and Juliet’s positioning leaves the brunette few options for returning fire. The best the Tempe Temptress can manage is to sling some elbows backward, hoping to catch Eisenberg in the ribs with a lucky shot...
Whilst not catching Eisenberg with a noteworthy impact, the Harbinger of Horror did relent, battering the smaller women within her grasp with one last impact before pausing. There was to be no sense of mercy, not as she stood slowly, one fist recollecting the beauties pigtails and pulling her puddled frame towards vertical. Ducking low, the snakeskin clad tormentor hooked her arm between her deerskin clad rivals thighs and, with an indulgent growl of effort, muscled the stunner across her shoulders.
The FAWNatics murmured with concern, knowing an Argentine Backbreaker in the making, and yet their memories of Carol Courage being likewise held aloft at Spring Break confirming that worse was to come...
Getting Juliet strapped to her shoulders proves distressingly easy for the blonde Amazon, and yes indeed, that was only the appetizer. The Tempe Temptress barely had time to cry out before Eisenberg begins to spin, one rotation becoming five...
... five becoming TEN...
...TEN becoming FIFTEEN(!)...
... and FIFTEEN(!) reaching TWENTY(!!!!!) before the Sublime Serpent comes to a somewhat shuddering halt. It takes the German a moment to steady her own balance in the wake of her dizziness, but she does so--with a nauseous, woozy Tempe Temptress STILL locked into the rack. Bloodwind’s free arm and leg flail weakly, so much so that it’s difficult to ascertain whether the motions are of Juliet’s volition or spurred by Erika’s jostling.
“Jules?” the referee asks.
No answer...
The official takes the Navajo’s wrist, raising her arm slight...
...and when he lets go, Eisenberg makes a point of bouncing on the balls of her feet, sending a tremor through the limb, leaving the zebra none the wiser to Bloodwind’s true state for the time being.
Erika was more than aware, the twist of her lips curling with sublime malice as her eyes, ice blue and enticing, glistened with pleasure. With flexes of her biceps, she enforced fresh chirps of Bloodwind, creaking and popping vertebra with ease and considerable practice. As the Official appeared as though he were about to advance and check again, Eisenberg scowled, the Curvaceous Carnivore unwilling to share her morsel...
Suddenly she shifted, pre-empting his efforts to offer Juliet a way out, Erika shrugging her shoulders and lifting her cargo, gravity and her own power conspiring to snap the Native American in two, Eisenberg plummeting to one knee, one left posted in place with nothing but agony surely in the near future...
ARGENTINE BACKBREAKER INTO BACKBREAKER DROP: @0:55
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lo5bJxLm24k
And when Juliet’s spine meets Erika knee and thigh, there remains little doubt that the Tempe Temptress is indeed still conscious. “GYYYYAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” Bloodwind howls, bouncing away from the devastating impact and land flat on her backside on the mat, about a foot away from the Sublime Serpent.
There she remains, seated, her back arched, elbows cocked as her arms stretch out from her sides, the Navajo’s head thrown back as she lets out another cry of agony. But the brunette only manages to remain a sitting position for a second... maybe two... before she topples over onto her left hip, one hand reaching for the base of her spine as her right foot kicks at the canvas.
It is no terrible trial for Erika to retrieve her, fingers slipping beneath the back of the Natives top and, with insistent tugging, the brunette was dragged up to sitting. After moving her hands to the young women’s shoulders, the German dug her claws in deep, punishing the soft flesh and eliciting a fresh yelp. Satisfied that Bloodwind was tender, Eisenberg adjusted her grip, her palms moving to brace against each of Juliet’s temples before, with a whispered taunt preceding, she began to squeeze with ill intent.
“Jacobs would last longer...”
If Juliet had been able to hear the German’s blonde’s verbal dig, she would no doubt have been furious. But honestly, about the only thing the Tempe Temptress can hear at the moment is her own blood, POUNDING in her head as Eisenberg’s strong hands function as a vice.
Much as before, with the Native American seated and Erika behind her, Bloodwind has few options to counter. Unlike last time, the brunette cannot gather enough muscle control to wield her arms as weapons. Oh, they rise... momentarily, flopping more than thrashing.
The Navajo warrior’s jaws grows slack, a small stream of saliva escaping as her brown eyes first cross, and then begin to roll back, all the whites...
Suddenly, without warning nor prompting, the pressure released, Eisenberg pulling her hands free and, as a GASP! escaped the lips of Bloodwind, allowed the young women to slump. Erika was there to collect her, powerful thighs spread open as Juliet nestled neatly between them, one slim waist encircled by the blonde’s impossibly long legs. A soft squeeze was all that was required to begin with, before the Perfect Predator, her prey snugly ensnared, cranked up the pressure...
Bloodwind’s hands move to Erika’s powerful thighs, her palms pushing against Eisenberg’s muscle and skin with all the strength she could summon--which, frankly, at this point wasn’t a whole hell of a lot. One particularly forceful squeeze sends the Tempe Temptress’ upper body slumping ever so slightly to her right--as much as the blonde Amazon’s ensnaring gams would allow, at least. Continuing to push against those torturous thighs as hard as she could, Juliet’s noggin starts to loll toward her right shoulder, Bloodwind uttering a small, breathless moan.
Erika, by contrast, was breathing deeply, inhaling with deep groans as she curled backwards, supported by her palms as her bosom hiked, jutting upwards with pleasure as she BIT her bottom lip. Following a particularly emphatic moan, Eisenberg snapped her head back upwards, blonde mane almost wild as her cold features were now flushed with intensity, her smile wide as she FLEXED her feared thighs with irresistible purpose. Bringing her right hand around, she tugged suggestively upon Bloodwind’s brunettes tresses, pulling her pigtails free and allowing the Native American’s mane to tumble across her smooth shoulders, moulding her challenger towards her own preference.
Her hair falling free barely appears to register with the Tempe Temptress, Juliet’s eyelids beginning to flutter. Bloodwind’s body grows a little more heavy against Erika’s torso, the Navajo sagging deeper and deeper into her attacker. Juliet’s hands soon shift from pushing against Eisenberg’s thighs to merely slapping them... and fairly soon, not even that...
With the former Intercontinental Champion gradually succumbing, Eisenberg embraced her with ravenous hunger, slipping her arms about Bloodwind with deliberate slowness. With her embrace now all consuming, the Sublime Serpent leaned her head forwards, a fresh squeeze popping Juliet’s head backwards and exposing her circled lips, Erika claiming them with her own. Fiercely they locked together, the German working her jaw as she invaded, cutting off the brunettes airways in the same moment and, perhaps, very well stealing the courageous brunette’s very breath...
Suddenly, the only means the Tempe Temptress has left to breathe are her nostrils, and that’s HARDLY enough when the German blonde’s arms collapsing her ribcage and Eisenberg’s gams threatening to cut right through Bloodwind’s midsection. Juliet’s eyes flutter open, WIDE, the beautiful Navajo’s arms spasming--perhaps attempting to make a move toward pushing away from the Curvaceous Carnivore. But resisting the German’s three-pronged attack would require SIGNIFICANTLY more strength than Bloodwind has left. Again, Juliet’s eyes start to roll back, her lids RAPIDLY rising and falling as her arms start to fall limp...
Eisenberg didn’t wait for the final vestiges of life to fade from her challenger, the Harbinger of Horror releasing her holds with an uncoiling of powerful limbs, rolling her shoulders as; with deliberate precision she slipped one arm beneath Bloodwind’s shoulder, before repeating the process with the other. As she stood, towering within the ring, Juliet was brought with her; all the while the blonde’s fingers inching together until, inevitably, they LOCKED!! together behind the neck of the Tempe Temptress, the Full Nelson as restricting as it was humiliating.
Once Erika’s fingers had laced together, the Curvaceous Carnivore’s joined hands begin to push against the back of Juliet’s skull, forcing an oft, agonized moan out of the Tempe Temptress.
“I don’t think that’s going to help you...” Eisenberg whispers into her foe’s ear, before drawing herself up a little straighter. With the German’s four inch height advantage, Bloodwind soon finds her feet dangling over the canvas--and being deprived a vertical base only intensifies the torture of the nelson. Erika soon adds a little side-to-side swaying of her ragdoll of a foe, Juliet whimpering... but still managing to cough up a faltering “noooooooooooooooooooooooooo...” when the referee asks if she’s had enough.
Eisenberg did not complain, she did not shout nor protest, nor further intensify the pressure in a fit of frustrated rage. Instead she appeared serene, as regal as dark horror as the Gladiatrix Photographers captured the moment for immortality. She inhaled, long and sensual, eyes of crystal blue rolling backwards before she smiled, ruby lips parting before she released.
Bloodwind’s drop to the canvas was indeed and short one, and the Perfect Predator retained a firm enough grip upon her prey to prevent her from puddling, turning her about and folding the brunette forwards. The FAWNatics protested to no avail as Juliet’s curls were shoved between a pair of indomitable and flexing thighs, a ‘Silencer’ on the horizon...
Eisenberg did not immediately pull the trigger, waiting as relief flooded through the Native American’s fantastic physique, the relief from pressure dulling her senses and, within that vital moment, weakening her will.
“Yield,” she ‘offered’, letting it linger, “yield I will let you go...”
THE SILENCER: @1:15
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bevdRipdhY8
For a few moments--seconds, really, but seemingly much longer--Bloodwind remains bowed, arms hanging limp from her sides and toward the canvas. But then, the Tempe Temptress’ arms rise, ever so languidly, and wrap around Erika’s muscular thighs. Juliet’s “grip”, for lack of a better term, tightens... also a bit of a misnomer. And yet, with a harsh grunt that is mostly swallowed by Eisenberg’s headscissors. The Navajo warrior desperately attempts to straighten up, and to take the Sublime Serpent off her feet with a backdrop...
... but the blonde Amazon’s feet hardly even rise off the canvas.
Erika, however, suffers no hindrance in her own efforts. Taking the brunettes persistence as her reply, Eisenberg followed through on her unspoken threat, circling Juliet’s shivering tummy and, with a flexing of her biceps, swept the brunette off her feet with deceptive ease. Circling the former IC Champion about to sit the proud, young women on her shoulders, Eisenberg held Bloodwind in a Powerbomb Stall just long enough for the Navajo Naive to perceive her error... before swinging her back earthwards...
Only that wasn’t enough to the Sublime Serpent, the Titanic Blonde dropping backwards to the canvas as Bloodwind fell and, as she was meant to meet the mat with a brutal collision across her shoulders, Erika threw up both her knees to meet the plummeting Juliet’s spine instead, the devastating impact engineered to become crippling...
When Eisenberg’s knees meet the Native American’s back, Juliet’s eyes SNAP open wide and her mouth opens for a scream... only for absolutely NO sound to emerge. The Tempe Temptress hits the deck with nothing more than a whimper, Juliet landing on her hip before rolling over to her stomach. The Silencer leaves Bloodwind sprawled, spasming ever so slightly, but otherwise motionless, her right cheek pressed tight against the canvas...
With a smile twitching her lips, the Harbinger of Horror slid across the canvas, tucking the insensible Juliet over and, with predatory patience, the towering blonde entwined herself about the comparatively small brunette, ensnaring every limb as shoulders were pressed down against the canvas...
ONE!
TWO!!
Navajo Nation holds out hope for a miracle, but no such thing is forthcoming. Truthfully, the referee would have been able to count to at least TEN, and quite possibly TWENTY, but he contents himself with the traditional...
THREE!!!!!!
... that marks the end of a FAWN contest. The FAWNatics respond with a resounding chorus of boos as the official rises to his knees and waves toward the timekeeper’s table. The bell sounds, and our resident announcer states the distressingly obvious. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, via pinfall... ERRRIIIKKKAAA EIIISSSEEENNNBBBEEERRRGGG!!!!!’
Almost immediately the arena plunged into a pervading darkness, the only illumination a tint of crimson that swathed the ring in the colour of blood. Erika remained lowered across Juliet, encircling her frame and twisting her lips with a malicious smirk, her second Challenger vanquished and quivering beneath her. True to her intentions, Bloodwind was beaten, Championship Pedigree hers to play with as Eisenberg circled her hips.
With a sudden curl, the Curvaceous Carnivore rolled free of the submissive Tempe Temptress, trailing the tip of tongue across red lips. Leaving the ring with a slither, slipping beneath the ropes to the concrete below, she secured the wrists of Juliet and dragged her from the canvas as well. As though she were but the slightest of burdens, Eisenberg secured her deerskin clad trophy, slinging the brunette across one shoulder and, with a swivel in her powerful thighs, marched towards the curtains and took Bloodwind beyond them....
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XxlaJQGve7s
Erika Eisenberg emerged amongst the stark and piercing beat of that opening rhythm, the melody as unsettling as it was threatening, the curvaceous carnivore striding with purpose, with desire, her pace unceasing and her gaze entrancing, ice blue and calculating, alluring... perilous...
Erika Eisenberg
Attired in the skin of the dead, the blonde destroyer hugged tightly by the two piece, dark tan, snake skin top and slim line shorts, elbow long, fingerless gloves and knee high boots, she was every inch the Titan the FAWNatics feared her to be. Slowly, with cold, methodical, malicious intent, she circled the ring, refusing to acknowledge the shades that were the bystanders, moving like a predator pinning down her prey, that stare, that piercing, ravenous stare soaking in the ground upon which she would feed upon her volunteering challenger.
Suddenly, with a burst of speed, she all but leapt up onto the apron, proceeding to almost effortlessly lift one long, stunningly powerful leg over the top rope, followed quickly by the other, a slight, mirthless smile finally rising to her coldly intense features.
The Announcer, keeping his distance and finding his voice, cut through the pervading silence and made the coming contest official.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest will be an Open Challenge!! Introducing first, hailing from Berlin, Germany, standing in at 5’9” and 140lbs, the Perfect Predator, ERIKA! EISENBERG!”
That smallest of mirthless smiles remained upon her features as the houselights returned with agonising slowness, finding her corner as though she owned it, her eyes unfaltering from their gaze of the curtains which had yet to flutter open. Perhaps mockingly, perhaps sincerely, she licked her lips, a long trailing of her tongue, as the viper could hardly wait to sink her teeth in...
The FAWNatics followed her gaze, well aware of the torment and terror that Erika had sown in recent memory, unstoppable as she tore a ragged hole through their beloved favourites. Not in over a year had anyone pinned her, and still the challenge remained open, her appetite for suffering refusing to be slaked. Carol Courage had stood valiantly and yet still fallen, joining the bodies mounted before the destroyer’s feet, the Sublime Serpents throne still with room for more corpses...
The silence lingered, the shadows lengthened, the torch that needed tendering going unheeded...
It almost became unbearable...
... until the silence was broken, at long last, by the sonic assault of Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name ". The FAWNatics burst into a round of thunderous applause, knowing that while Erika might be a formidable foe, she would be facing possibly her most fierce opposition to date.
(“KILLING IN THE NAME
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8GKdH2GwaO4 )
“And her opponent,” the announcer resumes, “hailing from Tempe, AZ… she stands five feet six inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-five pounds… She is the one and only Tempe Temptress… JUUULLLIIIEEETTT BLLLOOOOOODDDWWWIIINNNDDD!!!!!!”
JULIET BLOODWIND
The Tempe Temptress emerges atop the ramp, to another deafening roar, her loss of the Intercontinental title doing precious little to dampen the FAWNatics’ love for her. Bloodwind exudes a flirtatious confidence as she struts down the steel toward the ring. The pigtailed Juliet slaps hands with the fans sitting along the ramp, her imitation deerskin string bikini and matching knee high boots leaving very little to the public's imagination, and receiving a rousing vocal endorsement. She arches a wry eyebrow at this sight of what had become an almost omnipresent sign: “CHOP ME, JULES!” But he drops that sign and flinches pretty quickly when Juliet indeed draws back her choppin’ hand.
Another fan waves a sign that had become even more a fixture, reading: "CONSIDER ME TEMPTED, TEMPE TEMPTRESS!"
And for the sentiment, as always, he is rewarded with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Bloodwind makes a complete circuit around the ring, continuing to press the flesh with the assembled fans. Her lap completed, Juliet moves quickly toward the ring, gracefully hopping onto the apron. With her back to the ropes, Juliet casts a quick glance over her shoulder at the official and the announcer before draping her arms over the top rope. The nubile Native American gives a suggestive wiggle of her hips before leaning backward, flipping herself over the top rope and landing on her feet inside the ring, Navajo Nation roaring its approval...
... and, for her part, the Tempe Temptress does NOT move to her corner. Instead, she marches straight up to Eisenberg, very nearly going chest to chest with the blonde, casting a hard gaze upward to compensate for the three inch difference in their height. “Know this, Erika,” Juliet snarls, even as the referee moves to create some space between the competitors. “I’m NOT frightened of you. Not... one... bit!”
Not a whisper of a syllable slithered from her lips as Eisenberg uncoiled, lusciously languid as she slipped her arms free from atop the ropes and slinked a full half step forwards to meet the courageous Temptress, eyes of ice blue tilted to ensnare those of darkest brown. With a long, sharp motion, Erika inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of her would be Rival as the Navajo stood undaunted, jaw clenched and shoulders firm even in the face of such a specimen.
The smile was slow in forming and mirthless in her intentions, lips quirking cruelly as Erika’s heart skipped a few beats faster. They parted for a moment, blood red and inviting, and yet before even a thought could linger, the Perfect Predator SURGED!! out of inaction, exploding into savage movement as she forcibly bodied her smaller foe backwards, arms snapping open before SLAMMING!! shut for a vicious Bearhug, the women attired in snakeskin ensnaring the beauty in deer for a suffocating embrace...
Eisenberg might not be known as a speedster, but the blonde Amazon struck with a viper’s quickness, her arms engulfing the Tempe Temptress before Juliet can even offer a squawk of protest. What probably would have been a high pitched “Eeep!” of startled alarm becomes an “Unnnnffffhhhh...” on a much lower register as Erika’s powerful arms begin to constrict. Almost as soon as she had welcomed Juliet into her arms, a shuffle of Eisenberg’s grasp lifts the Native American beauty off her feet, Bloodwind’s well-shaped legs rising to wrap around her opponent’s hips.
“C’mon, Erika,” the referee admonishes her...
Now, there is absolutely nothing illegal about a bearhug--except, of course, when one has been slapped on BEFORE the bell has rung. And rather than call for the bell, in this case the official considers it his duty to get these two separated--and to make sure Juliet is still in condition to go--first and foremost. While the ref can only use his words, a gasping Juliet tries to will her already quaking arms to rise, hoping to cock her elbows and clap them off against Eisenberg’s ears.
An audible hiss soon followed as Erika’s noggin was cracked between a pair of desperate elbows. She didn’t release, her embrace only intensified as if she were incensed by such a blunt retaliation, shoulders flexing as the German found an additional inch with which to constrict. With her opponents throat so near, the European indulged her appetite as she buried her still snarling lips in deep into the soft, cool hollow of the Native Americans smooth neck, securing her prize with a fierce suckle.
Just as the Official was about to admonish Eisenberg further, the Sublime Serpent suddenly pivoted into a rapid, powerful full circle, a low and loud growl proceeding a dominant shout the moment before she released, attempting to THROW!! Bloodwind across the ring and towards what should have been her corner, as though she were a discuss...
Juliet hits the mat HARD, skidding across the canvas and coming to a halt in a jumbled heap, just shy of the buckles. Immediately, the ref turns to the towering German, extending a reproachful finger toward her face. “You,” he barks, “stay BACK!”
His order given, the official moves toward the other competitor, Juliet slowly working her way up to a seated position. “How you feeling, Jules?” he asked. “You good to go?”
How was she feeling? Well, her lungs burned with each inhale, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. But the Tempe Temptress gives him a small nod. And it’s apparently not a convincing one. “You sure?” he asks again, as Juliet starts to pull herself up alongside the ropes.
“Just... ring... the damn bell,” Bloodwind hisses.
The zebra shrugs his shoulder, then waves a hand toward the timekeeper’s table.
Juliet staggers out of her corner, her legs threatening to falter on the first step, but she rights herself as she approaches the German predator. The Native American lifts her arms, seemingly going for a collar and elbow--only she instead plans to duck, aiming to slip in behind Eisenberg and apply a waistlock she could use to take the powerful blonde to the mat.
With a Bloodwind evading her grasp, Eisenberg curled her lip, setting her hips and planting her feet as Juliet attempted to leverage her to the canvas. The Amazonian blonde was having none of it, digging in her heels and giving not an inch, grasping a pair of her challenger’s wrists and, with a firm tug, broke them apart and elucidated a yelp from the Native American! Erika spun, coiling about her opponent to seize her within the same hold that Bloodwind had attempted...
Only for Juliet to counter, slipping free just as easily, evading the grasp before it could seal and continuing their dance, behind Eisenberg quickly enough to encircle her waist, slam her stem into the back of a thigh and cause the blonde to genuflect down onto one knee...
Juliet keeps putting her lower body to good use--more specifically this time, her feet. The dark haired beauty sends a pair of short, swift and ECHOING kicks right between Erika’s shoulder blades. The Tempe Temptress then takes off into a sprint, racing into the near ropes in front of the kneeling Eisenberg. Rebounding off the strands, Bloodwind hits the rubber coated steel and shoots back toward her opponent, launching into a low dropkick aimed at the German blonde’s jaw.
With her powerful shoulders tensing, the Harbinger of Horror ground a growl through her exposed teeth, her quite, seething anger tinged by pain following the blistering strikes against her body. Beginning to push back up, Bloodwind’s timing could not have been better, two pairs of deerskin boots slapping across the vipers jaw! Eisenberg grunted, head spinning sideways as the rest of her soon followed, albeit not in a fasion that was most expected. Many would tumble to the canvas; instead her violently enforced spiral took her upwards, momentum carrying the German Destroyer back up to her feet and, with her back turned, towards the nearest corner.
Bloodwind is back on her feet quickly--though not QUITE as quickly as her opponent, which leaves the Tempe Temptress momentarily slack-jawed. But Juliet shakes off her amazement--against a bigger, stronger and dangerous foe like Erika, every single second was crucial. She had NO time to be in awe. And, fortunately for her, the stunning German had NO way of knowing where Juliet was right now, with her back turned.
Bloodwind takes advantage of that to launch another dropkick, this one landing against Eisenberg’s back and sending the blonde crashing, chest first, into the buckles.
Scrambling to her feet, Juliet follows Eisenberg in, spinning the blonde to the corner before BLASTING the German’s bosom with a massive open hand chop--Navajo Nation responding to the resounding impact with a cry of “WHOOOOOOOOO!”
Snatching her foe’s wrist, the Tempe Temptress sets her feet, mustering all her strength into a MIGHTY Irish whip toward the opposite corner, planning to either follow her in with a running clothesline if Erika managed to remain upright, OR to DRIVE a knee into Eisenberg’s mug with a Panic Attack if she didn’t.
As the corner approached, Eisenberg twisted at the last moment, turning into the barely yielding turnbuckles with her shoulders, hissing none the less even as she allowed them to absorb the juddering impact. The recoil of the sudden stop forcibly ejected her back onto into the ring, impossibly long stems still refusing to crumble, the Curvaceous Carnivore and Navajo Native closing back in on one another at frightening speeds.
With Erika’s gait unsteady, it was Bloodwind who lead the initiative, the FAWNatics ‘WHOOPING’ as she leapt into a glorious clothesline... only for Eisenberg to catch her! So swiftly did it occur that many of those watching, those who were fiercely loyal to the Native American were still cheering even as the German snatched her from the air, encircling her hips and WHIPPING Juliet about for a Full Body Slam, Eisenberg following right behind her...
The ring shakes with the impact of the Tempe Temptress hitting the mat, followed by the Curvaceous Carnivore’s power-packed frame SLAMMING down on top of her. Eisenberg springs from the impact up to all fours, Juliet Bloodwind left sprawled underneath her, blonde and brunette forming a makeshift ‘X’. The might of Erika’s emphatic counter renders the former Intercontinental champion unable to do much more the spasm underneath her opponent, at least for the time being. And finally, the full crowd falls into a hushed, concerned silence...
With her deerskin clad rival quivering and compliant, Eisenberg’s manner became lethally languid, one hand trailing slowly across Bloodwind’s cheek. Gazing with malevolence to the hushed masses, blood red lips curling into the twitching of a smirk, she leaned down forwards to inhale deeply and savour the scent of her morsel. With the stroke of her fingers sliding into the clutch of a claw, Erika suddenly bore down with renewed vengeance, drilling her thumb and fingers deep into the temples of her victim!
Bloodwind’s eyes suddenly bulge in response to the abrupt pressure placed on her cranium, both hands instinctively flying upward to grasp and pry at Eisenberg’s wrist. But the German’s strength and her Navajo foe’s lack of leverage conspire to keep the blonde’s grip firmly in place, Juliet’s legs kicking and flailing. Somehow, though, the Tempe Temptress manages to summon enough muscle control to attempt to exert some direction over those kicks, trying to send her knees into Erika’s flank... even as Eisenberg’s crushing digits begin to compel Juliet’s tongue to push past her lips.
“Shhhhhh,” Erika cooed, leaning her lips forward to whisper in her foes ear, bearing down even harder and weathering the storm of retaliation as sweet excess. Pressed so tightly together, the Perfect Predator could savour every inch of her fresh prey, the feel of the deer’s heart beating as it fluttered with panic. “Now you are afraid,” she accused, flexing her fingers before kissing the women’s cheek.
With a sudden growl she suddenly righted, retaining her grip long enough to both drag and yank Juliet towards vertical with her, releasing only so that she could apply a new hold. “But fear will not save you!”` she warned, slipping arm between the Native American’s incredible thighs before, with what appeared to be minimal effort, muscled her skywards, slinging the smaller, courageous women up and over one, imperialistic shoulder. With a slim, taunt tummy tucked and arched across her unyielding joint, Eisenberg prepared to drop earthwards...
DROPDOWN GUTBUSTER: @4:00
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lx5Mo7oxcZ8
When Eisenberg’s knees hit the canvas, the jolt of the German’s landing runs all the way up her thighs, through her abdomen, past her chest and finally reaching her shoulders--one of which has the flaccid form of the Tempe Temptress folded across her. The removal of Erika’s claw hold had left the Navajo beauty’s body flooded with relief, and utterly unprepared for either the task of summoning a counter attack in the limited time provided by the Curvaceous Carnivore, or of absorbing the shockwave that is transferred from Eisenberg’s frame to hers. Bloodwind is sent several inches into the air before she falls to the canvas, her body attempting to curl into a protective shell--but the effort is thwarted by repeated convulsions.
Pleased with her progress, the Sublime Serpent inhaled deeply, leaning her head backwards as her spine curled, full bosom hiking as she indulged in her moment. Finding her feet soon after, Eisenberg seized her challenger once more, collecting both of the crowd favourites beloved pigtails and, by way of leverage, began dragging her slumped frame across the canvas by them.
With the bleatings of the Official going unheeded, Erika approached the furthest ropes, quite deliberately choosing the furthest target as she displayed her cargo. Finally satisfied, she released, a kick to Bloodwind’s ribs prompting her to roll over, one last tug perching the young woman’s throat over the bottom rope. The FAWNatics protested, the Harbinger of Horror revealed in their despair, dropping to one knee regardless to drive it towards the shoulders of her rival, intent on throttling her with the coils!
One hundred and forty pounds of Curvaceous Carnivore DRIVE Juliet’s windpipe into the taut, rubber coated steel. And while the cable has a small measure of elasticity to it, it’s not nearly enough to alleviate its choking effects. Again, the Tempe Temptress’ eyes begin to bulge, her boots drumming the canvas, beating out a frantic distress call. Bloodwind’s fingers wrap around the bottom rope, her biceps quaking as she tries to push upward, but Eisenberg will NOT be dislodged.
Only the referee’s count prompts the German to rise... but not for long. With a predatory smirk, Erika brings her knee plummeting down again, landing between Juliet’s shoulder blades and working to strangle the Tempe Temptress once more. With Navajo Nation unloading a torrent of jeers and insults, the official starts a new count, going the extra mile to impress Eisenberg by issuing it in her native tongue...
“EINS!
ZWEI!
DREI!
VIER!!!”
Erika rose, although to suggest that the Official possessed power felt flimsy as she scantly acknowledged his existence, barely allowing Juliet a moment as Erika slowly prowled in a small circle to survey her conquered kingdom. That moment was indeed fleeting, far too fleeting for those watching as Eisenberg leaned lower, the Perfect Predator retrieving her gasping her morsel, with another humiliating tug on her pigtails, dragged back up to standing.
“Trying times, for you and you ilk,” Eisenberg taunted, turning the Tempe Temptress about, the German moved to slap her arms closed with a terrifying embrace, intent on securing a vice like grip to pin Bloodwind’s own limbs to her sides before bearing down. “I hear, I... feel Hopkins still pining and London, poor little London, buried and left to moulder before we could embrace. I hear you have a sister,” Erika leaned forwards, whispering in the most silent of tones, “Perhaps she could substitute for sweet, succulent Shea...”
The threat to Nyssa seems to inject some steel back into the Tempe Temptress’ spine. The Navajo’s head slumps backward, most observers fearing the gesture a testament to Erika’s constriction... only her noggin swiftly reverses direction, sweeping forward, Bloodwind’s forehead SMASHING into the bridge of Eisenberg’s nose with a headbutt.
The Sublime Serpent let out a hiss, worthy of the creatures that had perished to provide her ring gear... but the blonde’s arms remain tight around her, and that limited Juliet’s options. Taking the quickest deep breath possible, the Tempe Temptress lets her head loll back, only to again change course, connecting with a SECOND headbutt... and this time, the Native American beauty can feel Eisenberg’s embrace ease--however slightly.
Bloodwind’s bosom presses into the blonde’s as she draws in a freer breath, but she wasn’t actually free yet. That would take one more headbutt, at least. And so, Juliet prepares to swing her forehead forward a third time, Navajo Nation ready to erupt the moment the Perfect Predator’s arms fell away...
And fall away they do, a snarl replacing Eisenberg’s hiss as Juliet stubbornly DRIVES with her noggin home for a third and final time, the CRACK audible several rows back and ringing between the blondes ears. Shaking her head, the German began to backpedal, an involuntary retreat she was scarcely aware of before her pace was halted, the turnbuckles pressing in between her shoulders as she became wedged within the confines of the nearest corner.
The Tempe Temptress lumbers in after her prey, the small tremor in her legs serving as a testament to the lingering damage of Erika’s offense. Still, the Navajo warrior’s gams support her long enough for her to reach the corner, where Bloodwind lowers her shoulder and RAMS it into Eisenberg’s stomach. Keeping her grip on the middle rope, Juliet draws back... only to thrust her shoulder forward a second time.
And then a third.
And a fourth.
And a FIFTH!
Bloodwind didn’t have a prayer of being able to match Eisenberg in a war of bearhugs, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have ways of depriving the Sublime Serpent of oxygen. Each blast of her shoulder forces a gasp from the German’s lips, the first few soft cries... but the last couple had been a little louder, delighting the FAWNatics to no end. Straightening up, Juliet grabs Erika’s wrist and starts to launch the blonde toward the opposite corner with an Irish whip...
...but Eisenberg still had enough breath to reverse it, the Tempe Temptress now racing toward that corner. Erika moves quickly to follow, but before Juliet’s chest or back can strike the buckles, Bloodwind instead leaps off her feet, landing on the middle buckle and spring boarding backward, twisting and extending an arm for an acrobatic clothesline.
With her own gaze narrowing, Eisenberg can see the Native American coming... and yet there is nothing the German can do to prevent it. Juliet’s forearm slams across the shoulders of the Sublime Serpent, dazzling the arena with her sheer audacity and, with plenty of heart behind her, the FAWNatics erupted as the flying beauty ripped the Amazonian blonde off of her feet, Erika grunting as she shot back first down towards the canvas!
Having gotten the powerful German off her feet, the Tempe Temptress knows exactly what to do next, draping herself across Erika’s chest and reaching to hook one long, luscious leg...
ONE!
TWO!!
Eisenberg kicks out.
The Sublime Serpent starts to rise, shaking a couple of stray cobwebs out of her head... and Bloodwind snatches a handful of gold tresses. Getting a little bit of payback for Erika’s earlier liberties with her pigtails, Juliet smirks as she drags the stooped blonde into the nearest corner. Keeping her grasp on Eisenberg’s tresses secure, the Navajo beauty BLASTS Erika’s face into the uppermost turnbuckle three times before spinning her, shoving the blonde back into the corner. And when the Tempe Temptress draws back her choppin’ hand, the FAWNatics are jubilant, more than ready to witness the Knife Edge Massacre.
KNIFE EDGE MASSACRE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8doUJsDnGL8
Grasping the top ropes, the arena ringing in her ears, Eisenberg tenses her shoulders to shove free from the corner... just as the first strike collides with her cleverage!! Within seconds a half dozen more followed, blistering strikes unloaded like lightning and CRACKING!! against pale skin so swiftly that one could be discerned from the next. Chop after chop after chop connected, alabaster flesh rapidly tanned crimson, an audible and insistent HISSSSS! bleeding out from between teeth as Erika suffered through an assault that had humbled Champions and toppled giants.
After a half down full seconds, and heaven knew how many strikes, Eisenberg noticeably slackened, still snarling as she began slumping, sinking into her prison. A full dozen seconds later, Juliet unloading her frustration and fury, and the titanic blonde was forcibly sat upon the middle turnbuckle, blonde noggin bobbing with pained spasms as her limp wristed fingers uncoiled from their tight grip of the ropes.
Juliet ends her barrage, only to claim a double helping of hair and yank Erika upright once more. Maintaining her grasp on Eisenberg’s main, the Tempe Temptress pivots and genuflects, taking the Amazonian blonde out of the corner with a hairmare.
Bloodwind doesn’t stay on one knee long, rising and turning again, slipping through the ropes. The Native American beauty makes quick work of scaling her way to the top turnbuckle--which works out well, as the Perfect Predator is already struggling to her feet. Fortunately, Eisenberg’s back is to the corner, and as she turns, Juliet leaps, fashioning her hand into a knife edge once again, this time aiming to slam a tomahawk chop into the crown of Erika’s skull.
Which connects with enough force to whip Eisenberg’s head back, the blondes sculptured physique recoiling into a curl as though she had been shot. She pivoted, impossibly slowly for such a fierce impact, pivoting precariously around onto one foot until she dropped like a mountain onto her knees. With her powerful frame leaking tension, she folded further towards the canvas, the mat rushing up to catch her before the Harbinger of Horror, like some monster of myth, halted her decent, palms slapping down against plywood as she refused to black out.
If the Curvaceous Carnivore wasn’t ready to go all the way down, then the Tempe Temptress had no problems with bringing her back to her feet. Grabbing another handful of flaxen tresses, Juliet yanks Erika up from all fours, releasing her foe’s hair as she turns away from the reeling German. Reaching back and over her shoulder, Bloodwind slaps a three quarters facelock on the blonde, then starts to sprint back toward the very corner she’d launched her tomahawk from.
While the chop might not have completely turned out Erika’s lights, the Bloodhawk Plunge would almost certainly leave the blonde Amazon served up for her finisher...
BLOODHAWK PLUNGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gMuGREYMsVs
Flying up the turnbuckles at a heart skipping sprint, the FAWNatics erupted with applause as the Tempe Temptress took control, the Lightweight contender taking the Destroyer to task as, with the soles of both feet, she shoved her way free of the corner...
...only for Eisenberg to take full advantage! At the apex of her foes flight, Erika dug in her heels and snapped her arms about Juliet’s trim midriff. Halting the pivot that was to drive her face first to the canvas, the Perfect Predator stole the momentum of Bloodwind’s own leap, instead falling backwards, dragging her unwilling cargo earthwards by way of an impromptu, colossal Side Suplex!
Juliet’s legs kick out widely in a frantic effort to regain control of the situation, but to no avail--Erika Eisenberg’s backward descent will not be halted. The Perfect Predator hardly needed anything to give her own impressive strength a boost, but she is PERFECTLY willing to take advantage of any assistance offered, and the combination of Bloodwind’s charge and Eisenberg’s strength serve to practically PLANT the Tempe Temptress’ skull and shoulders into the canvas.
The Navajo’s gams shoot heavenward, Bloodwind tumbling over, landing in a boneless sprawl, face down and twitching.
The one saving grace for the FAWNatics, following the disastrous aftermath of the prevented plunge, was that Eisenberg appeared to be in no better condition to take full advantage. The Sublime Serpent lay near supine, splayed out across her back with her lusciously long legs curled upwards at the knee, arms outstretched as her bosom rose slowly... and irregularly.
The Official looked between one and the other, awaiting for some sign of life that would prevent the beginning of his count, just as the crowd willed Bloodwind to be the first to start rising...
...such hope was fleeting, Eisenberg uncoiling, sliding into a roll that took her over onto her tummy, lips flickering into a smile and stamina surged. With dangerously beguiling sleekness, the titanic blonde slid up onto her all fours, shoulders rolling as she advanced and bore down in the immobile Tempe Temptress. With the merest of prompting she shovelled the pig tailed beauty onto her back before leveraging her up to sitting. Positioned behind the Native America, the German held her prey steady with one arm before raising the other up high, clenching her fist tightly in anticipation.
“Valiant,” she purred with the whispers of poison, “but fruitless!” she declared, swinging her forearm down to begin CLUBBING!! her challengers bosom with unrestrained vengeance...
“Unnnnnnnhhhhhh...” Juliet moans, initially with a softness that doesn’t do justice to that impact. But as those clubbing blows begin to accumulate, the Tempe Temptress’ cries grow louder, more plaintive. Unfortunately, while Erika’s torrent causes more and more anguish for the Navajo warrior, they DON’T do much to rouse Bloodwind out of her stupor--and Juliet’s positioning leaves the brunette few options for returning fire. The best the Tempe Temptress can manage is to sling some elbows backward, hoping to catch Eisenberg in the ribs with a lucky shot...
Whilst not catching Eisenberg with a noteworthy impact, the Harbinger of Horror did relent, battering the smaller women within her grasp with one last impact before pausing. There was to be no sense of mercy, not as she stood slowly, one fist recollecting the beauties pigtails and pulling her puddled frame towards vertical. Ducking low, the snakeskin clad tormentor hooked her arm between her deerskin clad rivals thighs and, with an indulgent growl of effort, muscled the stunner across her shoulders.
The FAWNatics murmured with concern, knowing an Argentine Backbreaker in the making, and yet their memories of Carol Courage being likewise held aloft at Spring Break confirming that worse was to come...
Getting Juliet strapped to her shoulders proves distressingly easy for the blonde Amazon, and yes indeed, that was only the appetizer. The Tempe Temptress barely had time to cry out before Eisenberg begins to spin, one rotation becoming five...
... five becoming TEN...
...TEN becoming FIFTEEN(!)...
... and FIFTEEN(!) reaching TWENTY(!!!!!) before the Sublime Serpent comes to a somewhat shuddering halt. It takes the German a moment to steady her own balance in the wake of her dizziness, but she does so--with a nauseous, woozy Tempe Temptress STILL locked into the rack. Bloodwind’s free arm and leg flail weakly, so much so that it’s difficult to ascertain whether the motions are of Juliet’s volition or spurred by Erika’s jostling.
“Jules?” the referee asks.
No answer...
The official takes the Navajo’s wrist, raising her arm slight...
...and when he lets go, Eisenberg makes a point of bouncing on the balls of her feet, sending a tremor through the limb, leaving the zebra none the wiser to Bloodwind’s true state for the time being.
Erika was more than aware, the twist of her lips curling with sublime malice as her eyes, ice blue and enticing, glistened with pleasure. With flexes of her biceps, she enforced fresh chirps of Bloodwind, creaking and popping vertebra with ease and considerable practice. As the Official appeared as though he were about to advance and check again, Eisenberg scowled, the Curvaceous Carnivore unwilling to share her morsel...
Suddenly she shifted, pre-empting his efforts to offer Juliet a way out, Erika shrugging her shoulders and lifting her cargo, gravity and her own power conspiring to snap the Native American in two, Eisenberg plummeting to one knee, one left posted in place with nothing but agony surely in the near future...
ARGENTINE BACKBREAKER INTO BACKBREAKER DROP: @0:55
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lo5bJxLm24k
And when Juliet’s spine meets Erika knee and thigh, there remains little doubt that the Tempe Temptress is indeed still conscious. “GYYYYAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” Bloodwind howls, bouncing away from the devastating impact and land flat on her backside on the mat, about a foot away from the Sublime Serpent.
There she remains, seated, her back arched, elbows cocked as her arms stretch out from her sides, the Navajo’s head thrown back as she lets out another cry of agony. But the brunette only manages to remain a sitting position for a second... maybe two... before she topples over onto her left hip, one hand reaching for the base of her spine as her right foot kicks at the canvas.
It is no terrible trial for Erika to retrieve her, fingers slipping beneath the back of the Natives top and, with insistent tugging, the brunette was dragged up to sitting. After moving her hands to the young women’s shoulders, the German dug her claws in deep, punishing the soft flesh and eliciting a fresh yelp. Satisfied that Bloodwind was tender, Eisenberg adjusted her grip, her palms moving to brace against each of Juliet’s temples before, with a whispered taunt preceding, she began to squeeze with ill intent.
“Jacobs would last longer...”
If Juliet had been able to hear the German’s blonde’s verbal dig, she would no doubt have been furious. But honestly, about the only thing the Tempe Temptress can hear at the moment is her own blood, POUNDING in her head as Eisenberg’s strong hands function as a vice.
Much as before, with the Native American seated and Erika behind her, Bloodwind has few options to counter. Unlike last time, the brunette cannot gather enough muscle control to wield her arms as weapons. Oh, they rise... momentarily, flopping more than thrashing.
The Navajo warrior’s jaws grows slack, a small stream of saliva escaping as her brown eyes first cross, and then begin to roll back, all the whites...
Suddenly, without warning nor prompting, the pressure released, Eisenberg pulling her hands free and, as a GASP! escaped the lips of Bloodwind, allowed the young women to slump. Erika was there to collect her, powerful thighs spread open as Juliet nestled neatly between them, one slim waist encircled by the blonde’s impossibly long legs. A soft squeeze was all that was required to begin with, before the Perfect Predator, her prey snugly ensnared, cranked up the pressure...
Bloodwind’s hands move to Erika’s powerful thighs, her palms pushing against Eisenberg’s muscle and skin with all the strength she could summon--which, frankly, at this point wasn’t a whole hell of a lot. One particularly forceful squeeze sends the Tempe Temptress’ upper body slumping ever so slightly to her right--as much as the blonde Amazon’s ensnaring gams would allow, at least. Continuing to push against those torturous thighs as hard as she could, Juliet’s noggin starts to loll toward her right shoulder, Bloodwind uttering a small, breathless moan.
Erika, by contrast, was breathing deeply, inhaling with deep groans as she curled backwards, supported by her palms as her bosom hiked, jutting upwards with pleasure as she BIT her bottom lip. Following a particularly emphatic moan, Eisenberg snapped her head back upwards, blonde mane almost wild as her cold features were now flushed with intensity, her smile wide as she FLEXED her feared thighs with irresistible purpose. Bringing her right hand around, she tugged suggestively upon Bloodwind’s brunettes tresses, pulling her pigtails free and allowing the Native American’s mane to tumble across her smooth shoulders, moulding her challenger towards her own preference.
Her hair falling free barely appears to register with the Tempe Temptress, Juliet’s eyelids beginning to flutter. Bloodwind’s body grows a little more heavy against Erika’s torso, the Navajo sagging deeper and deeper into her attacker. Juliet’s hands soon shift from pushing against Eisenberg’s thighs to merely slapping them... and fairly soon, not even that...
With the former Intercontinental Champion gradually succumbing, Eisenberg embraced her with ravenous hunger, slipping her arms about Bloodwind with deliberate slowness. With her embrace now all consuming, the Sublime Serpent leaned her head forwards, a fresh squeeze popping Juliet’s head backwards and exposing her circled lips, Erika claiming them with her own. Fiercely they locked together, the German working her jaw as she invaded, cutting off the brunettes airways in the same moment and, perhaps, very well stealing the courageous brunette’s very breath...
Suddenly, the only means the Tempe Temptress has left to breathe are her nostrils, and that’s HARDLY enough when the German blonde’s arms collapsing her ribcage and Eisenberg’s gams threatening to cut right through Bloodwind’s midsection. Juliet’s eyes flutter open, WIDE, the beautiful Navajo’s arms spasming--perhaps attempting to make a move toward pushing away from the Curvaceous Carnivore. But resisting the German’s three-pronged attack would require SIGNIFICANTLY more strength than Bloodwind has left. Again, Juliet’s eyes start to roll back, her lids RAPIDLY rising and falling as her arms start to fall limp...
Eisenberg didn’t wait for the final vestiges of life to fade from her challenger, the Harbinger of Horror releasing her holds with an uncoiling of powerful limbs, rolling her shoulders as; with deliberate precision she slipped one arm beneath Bloodwind’s shoulder, before repeating the process with the other. As she stood, towering within the ring, Juliet was brought with her; all the while the blonde’s fingers inching together until, inevitably, they LOCKED!! together behind the neck of the Tempe Temptress, the Full Nelson as restricting as it was humiliating.
Once Erika’s fingers had laced together, the Curvaceous Carnivore’s joined hands begin to push against the back of Juliet’s skull, forcing an oft, agonized moan out of the Tempe Temptress.
“I don’t think that’s going to help you...” Eisenberg whispers into her foe’s ear, before drawing herself up a little straighter. With the German’s four inch height advantage, Bloodwind soon finds her feet dangling over the canvas--and being deprived a vertical base only intensifies the torture of the nelson. Erika soon adds a little side-to-side swaying of her ragdoll of a foe, Juliet whimpering... but still managing to cough up a faltering “noooooooooooooooooooooooooo...” when the referee asks if she’s had enough.
Eisenberg did not complain, she did not shout nor protest, nor further intensify the pressure in a fit of frustrated rage. Instead she appeared serene, as regal as dark horror as the Gladiatrix Photographers captured the moment for immortality. She inhaled, long and sensual, eyes of crystal blue rolling backwards before she smiled, ruby lips parting before she released.
Bloodwind’s drop to the canvas was indeed and short one, and the Perfect Predator retained a firm enough grip upon her prey to prevent her from puddling, turning her about and folding the brunette forwards. The FAWNatics protested to no avail as Juliet’s curls were shoved between a pair of indomitable and flexing thighs, a ‘Silencer’ on the horizon...
Eisenberg did not immediately pull the trigger, waiting as relief flooded through the Native American’s fantastic physique, the relief from pressure dulling her senses and, within that vital moment, weakening her will.
“Yield,” she ‘offered’, letting it linger, “yield I will let you go...”
THE SILENCER: @1:15
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bevdRipdhY8
For a few moments--seconds, really, but seemingly much longer--Bloodwind remains bowed, arms hanging limp from her sides and toward the canvas. But then, the Tempe Temptress’ arms rise, ever so languidly, and wrap around Erika’s muscular thighs. Juliet’s “grip”, for lack of a better term, tightens... also a bit of a misnomer. And yet, with a harsh grunt that is mostly swallowed by Eisenberg’s headscissors. The Navajo warrior desperately attempts to straighten up, and to take the Sublime Serpent off her feet with a backdrop...
... but the blonde Amazon’s feet hardly even rise off the canvas.
Erika, however, suffers no hindrance in her own efforts. Taking the brunettes persistence as her reply, Eisenberg followed through on her unspoken threat, circling Juliet’s shivering tummy and, with a flexing of her biceps, swept the brunette off her feet with deceptive ease. Circling the former IC Champion about to sit the proud, young women on her shoulders, Eisenberg held Bloodwind in a Powerbomb Stall just long enough for the Navajo Naive to perceive her error... before swinging her back earthwards...
Only that wasn’t enough to the Sublime Serpent, the Titanic Blonde dropping backwards to the canvas as Bloodwind fell and, as she was meant to meet the mat with a brutal collision across her shoulders, Erika threw up both her knees to meet the plummeting Juliet’s spine instead, the devastating impact engineered to become crippling...
When Eisenberg’s knees meet the Native American’s back, Juliet’s eyes SNAP open wide and her mouth opens for a scream... only for absolutely NO sound to emerge. The Tempe Temptress hits the deck with nothing more than a whimper, Juliet landing on her hip before rolling over to her stomach. The Silencer leaves Bloodwind sprawled, spasming ever so slightly, but otherwise motionless, her right cheek pressed tight against the canvas...
With a smile twitching her lips, the Harbinger of Horror slid across the canvas, tucking the insensible Juliet over and, with predatory patience, the towering blonde entwined herself about the comparatively small brunette, ensnaring every limb as shoulders were pressed down against the canvas...
ONE!
TWO!!
Navajo Nation holds out hope for a miracle, but no such thing is forthcoming. Truthfully, the referee would have been able to count to at least TEN, and quite possibly TWENTY, but he contents himself with the traditional...
THREE!!!!!!
... that marks the end of a FAWN contest. The FAWNatics respond with a resounding chorus of boos as the official rises to his knees and waves toward the timekeeper’s table. The bell sounds, and our resident announcer states the distressingly obvious. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, via pinfall... ERRRIIIKKKAAA EIIISSSEEENNNBBBEEERRRGGG!!!!!’
Almost immediately the arena plunged into a pervading darkness, the only illumination a tint of crimson that swathed the ring in the colour of blood. Erika remained lowered across Juliet, encircling her frame and twisting her lips with a malicious smirk, her second Challenger vanquished and quivering beneath her. True to her intentions, Bloodwind was beaten, Championship Pedigree hers to play with as Eisenberg circled her hips.
With a sudden curl, the Curvaceous Carnivore rolled free of the submissive Tempe Temptress, trailing the tip of tongue across red lips. Leaving the ring with a slither, slipping beneath the ropes to the concrete below, she secured the wrists of Juliet and dragged her from the canvas as well. As though she were but the slightest of burdens, Eisenberg secured her deerskin clad trophy, slinging the brunette across one shoulder and, with a swivel in her powerful thighs, marched towards the curtains and took Bloodwind beyond them....