Post by alyadmirer on Oct 20, 2015 6:51:46 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen," FAWN’s resident man in the penguin suit begins, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit... and is for the FAWN Tag Team Championship! Introducing first, the challengers... Weighing in tonight at a total combined weight of two-hundred and sixty-eight pounds… Becky Clayton and Roxie McCrimmon… Ladies and gentlemen, together, they are… THE BIIIGGG GUUUNNNSSS!!!”
For a team with that name, there’s only one song that can mark their arrival. And sure enough, within moments, the FAWN Arena speakers begin to pump out AC/DC--in this instance, “Big Gun”. Not long after that, two of FAWN’s hardest hardbodies emerge at the top of the ramp, the former--and perhaps future--tag team champions of the world receiving a tremendous roar of approval from the sellout crowd.
“BIG GUN”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=a82cNcjw3iw
BECKY CLAYTON
ROXIE McCRIMMON
The Army of One Hot Chick sports what has now become her trademark ensemble. Having forsaken her standard one-piece after it been all but shredded by a certain Tennessee Terror, she has transitioned to a camouflage two piece with tie-sided bottoms and an eye catching ladder / double helix of lycra that runs from the center of her waistband all the way up to the bottom of her cups. She finishes it off with matching forest green pads and boots, though thanks to the artillery above, they could’ve been pink with yellow floral print and no one would’ve noticed.
The Beantown Bombshell, on the other hand, is clearly adorned in a different set of togs than her customary solo wear, though they are at least partially obscured by her usual Celtics jersey—tonight’s a green number 35. What can be seen below the hem of the Reggie Lewis uni is an extreme rarity in FAWN: pants. Well, “pants” is probably overstating matters. While it’s true that McCrimmon’s inner thighs are covered by shiny, camouflage patterned fabric, her outer legs are left bare save for a one-inch strap at the knee.
When Clayton has given the fans enough time to voice their appreciation, Becky starts her way down to the ring at a quick pace--but still taking the time to slap as many of the outstretched hands as she could reach. Roxanne follows alongside, doing her best to ensure that none of the front row fans are left out from the hand-slapping festivities. Ascending the steps, the Army of One Hot Chick slips through the ropes and headed straight for a far corner, hopping up onto the middle turnbuckle and snapping off a crisp salute to the roaring masses. McCrimmon races to the opposite corner, springing onto the middle buckle herself and pumping a fist—drawing a rousing cheer of her own.
From her perch, Roxie slips her fingers inside the hem of her jersey and pulls it overhead, revealing two more one-inch straps on the “pants”—one at mid-thigh and the other the waist—and a similarly camouflaged halter that leaves plenty of washboard stomach bared. Backed up by a whole platoon of her very own Howling Commandos, Becky drops down from her perch and turns to watch the enemy corner. Giving her partner a supportive slap on the shoulder, Roxie McCrimmon departs the ring, taking up station in the Big Guns corner.
The FAWNatics continue to shower the challengers with applause and appreciation, but their ovation is soon interrupted by a stomp-stomp-clap rhythm, though not one of the FAWNatics’ making. Soon after comes the voices of Iggy Azalea...
“HEAVY CROWN”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3f8_hp7Nc6I
“And now,” the announcer resumes, “introducing the champions...”
Those words send the crowd into raucous jeers.
“At a combined weight of four hundred and twenty-seven pounds… Representing the Black Court, Ashley Locke, Pandora and Adrianna Papadopoulos... they are... THE THHHRRREEEEEE!!!!! ”
The curtains part, and that serves as more than enough of a cue for the audience to lose their collective sh!t. And out step three physical specimens, who together form possibly the most imposing trio FAWN has ever seen.
PANDORA
Pandora’s age is a hard thing to guess just by appearances, but she’d likely be carded at the Arena bar. And while there aren’t many women on the roster that can make the likes of Maggie Connor, Becky Clayton and Roxie freakin’ McCrimmon look like lightweights, she would certainly qualify. She stands just south of 6 feet tall and more than pleasingly fills out her white bikini top. The lights seem to dance off Pandora’s impossibly bronzed, impossibly smooth stomach. And her taut undercarriage is sheathed in a matching set of bikini bottoms, with three aqua buttons befitting her Miami roots leading toward tied off stretches of fabric that extend halfway down her thighs.
And when your legs never end, that’s a LOOOONG way.
Ashley Locke...
To her right stands the former Goddess of Love. But with that moniker now relegated to history, Ashley Locke remains an Amazon, a statuesque blonde probably right at six feet with her boots and a good two thirds of that is probably leg. Said gams are exquisitely sculpted and look downright dangerous, as do her shoulders, abdominals and chest, the latter armored in a orangish-red leather bikini top decorated with an intricate pattern of small metal studs. Her bottoms match the top, as do her pads and boots, though the pads are basic lycra and lack any sort of adornment. A detail for the discerning eye, the outer edge of each boot is adorned with a the stylized head and shoulders of a black horse.
Adrianna Papadopoulos...
To Pandora’s left is FAWN’s certified Greek Goddess, Adrianna Papadopoulos. It’s immediately clear Adrianna regards the filthy, teeming masses much as she did before her time off among the immortals, like a deity gazing down from the heights. Her subjects stare, momentarily slackjawed at the Greek beauty, Addy in a black version of her original attire, only appropriate for a member of Emily West’s Black Court, the organization no doubt buoyed by her return.
Pappy adjusts her revealing bikini top, while the accompanying short, black, pleated skirt gives the look of a miniaturized toga, an occasional flash of the familiarly-hued blue panties still remaining beneath. Her elbow-pads and boots have gotten the Court treatment as well, going basic black.
With all three dressed for battle, combined with their introduction, both the Sisters and the crowd look a little on edge. Any combination of these three beauties posed a tall order. Which alignment of heavenly bodies would go into battle against them?
There is perhaps one clue: Pandora and Locke, the two-thirds of FAWN’s imposing three headed monster that had vanquished the Big Guns for the belts, carry the straps over their shoulders.
Pandora approaches the ring, her hindquarters perhaps not possessing quite the same degree of bootyliciousness as her former stablemate LaKeisha Bates—few do—but her hips make up for it with extra sass. The Three stop at the end of the aisle, and as Ellie Goulding’s voice replaces Iggy’s, Pandora and Ashley slowly raise their title belts into the air, each with one hand...
“This heavy crown
You can't always please the crowd
But I am still not bowing down
This heavy crown
It comes and goes around
And when it's time, I'll pass it proud..."
Just as the last line begins, the Beach Goddess and the Goddess of Love violently pull their belts back down, toward their abdomens.
“But bytch I got it now!”
The champions fan out--Pandora remaining in front of the ramp, while Ashley drifts to the right side of the ring and Pappy to the left. The Three then each climb onto the apron, leaving only the ropes behind Clayton and McCrimmon--the ones FURTHEST from the aisle--free and clear, should they feel like running.
Not that they EVER would.
Panny, Pappy and Locke each thread one luscious leg through the ropes and into the ring... and all three BURST through the ropes, Pandora and Ashley letting their belts fall as they charge the challengers. The element of surprise allows the Beach Goddess to get the better of the Beantown Bombshell, pulling her into a snug embrace before executing a crisp belly to belly suplex...
BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XgO5wCyeeE8
The numbers game allows Pappy and Ashley to gain the upper hand on the Army of One Hot Chick, blonde and brunette driving Becky into the ropes with an onslaught of forearms. Together, the Greek Goddess and the Goddess of Love claim a wrist, launching Clayton on her way into the ropes, then joining hands to meet the rebounding Army Brat with a dual clothesline...
... but after the initial sneak attack, Becky keeps her head up. OR, more accurately, she DUCKS her head, allowing her to evade the wicked clothesline. Ashley and Adrianna have to break the clasp of their hands to turn around and reacquire Clayton--and when they do, the Army of One Hot Chick connects with a double clothesline of her own!
Ashley races back to her feet, but Becky proves quicker, clamping on a front facelock and falling back to deliver a swift ane effective DDT. Clayton doesn’t QUITE beat Papadopoulos back to verticality, but she ducks the incoming punch from the Greek Goddess. Reaching an arm across Adrianna’s impressive chest, the Army Brat’s other arm wraps around her foe’s back. Popping her hips, Becky powers the voluptuous brunette off her feet, slamming her to the canvas with a uranage.
URANAGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sUQgAISWOA
But while one Gun is rallying, the other remains in trouble. With McCrimmon doubled over, Pandora wraps her arms around Roxie’s waist, and shows distressing ease in swinging the sculpted blonde onto her shoulder. She shows even greater ease in TOSSING the Beantown Bombshell to the mat, Roxie’s face and chest striking the canvas harshly enough from the Dominator that she bounces over to her back. The Beach Goddess takes a small step back, only to lay out, landing her Tummy Tuck splash across McCrimmon’s mug.
DOMINATOR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sDgsgIwHUg
Pandora rises to her knees--and in so doing takes a seat directly atop Roxie’s face! The match hasn’t even officially started yet, and already Pandora’s Box threatens to snuff out the fight in one-half of the challengers!
And unfortunately for Roxie, Becky Clayton still has her hands full at the moment--though that looks like it might be about to change when the Army of One Hot Chick connects with a Big Boot to Ashley Locke. Alas, the Army Brat only manages one step toward Pandora when her arms are hooked from behind, Adrianna Papadopoulos back to back with the challenge. The Greek Goddess leaning forward hoists Becky off her feet, after which Pappy drops to her knees, DRIVING Clayton’s head and shoulder into the mat with the Curse of the Lamia.
CURSE OF THE LAMIA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2wdxlYNk608
Meanwhile, feeling Roxie’s struggles fading to near nothingness, Pandora dismounts the Beantown Bombshell and scrapes the normally imposing physical specimen off the mat. Slipping her head under McCrimmon’s left arm, Pandora grabs her waist and powers the robobabe into the skies. At the peak of her ascent, with the crown of Roxie’s skull pointed toward the mat, the Beach Goddess wraps an arm around her neck and lays out, SPIKING McCrimmon’s noggin with All the Evils of the World.
ALL THE EVILS OF THE WORLD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lhsc7z6vfQc
Instinct, no doubt, compels McCrimmon to roll toward the ropes. to keep from getting pinned--even though that’s not yet a consideration. But Pandora has no problems in letting her depart, and she follows the Beantown Bombshell to the floor. With only two of the Three left in the ring, the referee calls for the bell--and earns one of the loudest boos of the night in the process. But he also receives a round of applause from Ashley Locke, while Adrianna Papadopoulos slings Becky Clayton across her shoulder. And as the Greek Goddess rushes toward the near corner, the Howling Commandos hold their breath...
... but it’s to no avail. Pappy sends Clayton crashing face first into the top turnbuckle, Clayton’s feet only briefly touching down as she turns back toward the voluptuous brunette, and stumbles DIRECTLY into the heart punch that concluded the Hand of Athena. The Army of One Hot Chick goes down, HARD, left sprawled and motionless in the center of the ring...
... and Adrianna finally takes her leave.
Ashley Locke drops to her backside, taking a seat in Becky’s lap before pulling the Army Brat up to a seated position--and then a little further, stuffing Clayton’s face into her cleavage. Becky bucks and thrashes for a few seconds, even landing a few clubbing blows to Aphrodite’s flanks--but Locke is determined. It’s only a matter of time before the Army of One Hot Chick’s arms fall limp. The official takes Becky’s left wrist, raising her arm...
It falls ONCE...
It falls TWICE...
It falls THREE TIMES!!!!
“THAT’S IT!” the ref shouts, calling for the bell. “IT’S OVER!”
DING! DING! DING!
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer tells an enraged audience, who only boo LOUDER as Ashley REFUSES to relinquish the front sleeper, “your winner, via knockout... THE THHHRRREEE!!!!!”
Pandora climbs the ringsteps majestically, a tag title belt slung across each shoulder as she slips through the ropes. Only when she passes one of the straps to Locke does Ashley break the jugg smother, allowing a greasy-faced Clayton to fall to her back, the previous tag team champions emphatically disposed of.
Who might be next?
For a team with that name, there’s only one song that can mark their arrival. And sure enough, within moments, the FAWN Arena speakers begin to pump out AC/DC--in this instance, “Big Gun”. Not long after that, two of FAWN’s hardest hardbodies emerge at the top of the ramp, the former--and perhaps future--tag team champions of the world receiving a tremendous roar of approval from the sellout crowd.
“BIG GUN”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=a82cNcjw3iw
BECKY CLAYTON
ROXIE McCRIMMON
The Army of One Hot Chick sports what has now become her trademark ensemble. Having forsaken her standard one-piece after it been all but shredded by a certain Tennessee Terror, she has transitioned to a camouflage two piece with tie-sided bottoms and an eye catching ladder / double helix of lycra that runs from the center of her waistband all the way up to the bottom of her cups. She finishes it off with matching forest green pads and boots, though thanks to the artillery above, they could’ve been pink with yellow floral print and no one would’ve noticed.
The Beantown Bombshell, on the other hand, is clearly adorned in a different set of togs than her customary solo wear, though they are at least partially obscured by her usual Celtics jersey—tonight’s a green number 35. What can be seen below the hem of the Reggie Lewis uni is an extreme rarity in FAWN: pants. Well, “pants” is probably overstating matters. While it’s true that McCrimmon’s inner thighs are covered by shiny, camouflage patterned fabric, her outer legs are left bare save for a one-inch strap at the knee.
When Clayton has given the fans enough time to voice their appreciation, Becky starts her way down to the ring at a quick pace--but still taking the time to slap as many of the outstretched hands as she could reach. Roxanne follows alongside, doing her best to ensure that none of the front row fans are left out from the hand-slapping festivities. Ascending the steps, the Army of One Hot Chick slips through the ropes and headed straight for a far corner, hopping up onto the middle turnbuckle and snapping off a crisp salute to the roaring masses. McCrimmon races to the opposite corner, springing onto the middle buckle herself and pumping a fist—drawing a rousing cheer of her own.
From her perch, Roxie slips her fingers inside the hem of her jersey and pulls it overhead, revealing two more one-inch straps on the “pants”—one at mid-thigh and the other the waist—and a similarly camouflaged halter that leaves plenty of washboard stomach bared. Backed up by a whole platoon of her very own Howling Commandos, Becky drops down from her perch and turns to watch the enemy corner. Giving her partner a supportive slap on the shoulder, Roxie McCrimmon departs the ring, taking up station in the Big Guns corner.
The FAWNatics continue to shower the challengers with applause and appreciation, but their ovation is soon interrupted by a stomp-stomp-clap rhythm, though not one of the FAWNatics’ making. Soon after comes the voices of Iggy Azalea...
“HEAVY CROWN”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3f8_hp7Nc6I
“And now,” the announcer resumes, “introducing the champions...”
Those words send the crowd into raucous jeers.
“At a combined weight of four hundred and twenty-seven pounds… Representing the Black Court, Ashley Locke, Pandora and Adrianna Papadopoulos... they are... THE THHHRRREEEEEE!!!!! ”
The curtains part, and that serves as more than enough of a cue for the audience to lose their collective sh!t. And out step three physical specimens, who together form possibly the most imposing trio FAWN has ever seen.
PANDORA
Pandora’s age is a hard thing to guess just by appearances, but she’d likely be carded at the Arena bar. And while there aren’t many women on the roster that can make the likes of Maggie Connor, Becky Clayton and Roxie freakin’ McCrimmon look like lightweights, she would certainly qualify. She stands just south of 6 feet tall and more than pleasingly fills out her white bikini top. The lights seem to dance off Pandora’s impossibly bronzed, impossibly smooth stomach. And her taut undercarriage is sheathed in a matching set of bikini bottoms, with three aqua buttons befitting her Miami roots leading toward tied off stretches of fabric that extend halfway down her thighs.
And when your legs never end, that’s a LOOOONG way.
Ashley Locke...
To her right stands the former Goddess of Love. But with that moniker now relegated to history, Ashley Locke remains an Amazon, a statuesque blonde probably right at six feet with her boots and a good two thirds of that is probably leg. Said gams are exquisitely sculpted and look downright dangerous, as do her shoulders, abdominals and chest, the latter armored in a orangish-red leather bikini top decorated with an intricate pattern of small metal studs. Her bottoms match the top, as do her pads and boots, though the pads are basic lycra and lack any sort of adornment. A detail for the discerning eye, the outer edge of each boot is adorned with a the stylized head and shoulders of a black horse.
Adrianna Papadopoulos...
To Pandora’s left is FAWN’s certified Greek Goddess, Adrianna Papadopoulos. It’s immediately clear Adrianna regards the filthy, teeming masses much as she did before her time off among the immortals, like a deity gazing down from the heights. Her subjects stare, momentarily slackjawed at the Greek beauty, Addy in a black version of her original attire, only appropriate for a member of Emily West’s Black Court, the organization no doubt buoyed by her return.
Pappy adjusts her revealing bikini top, while the accompanying short, black, pleated skirt gives the look of a miniaturized toga, an occasional flash of the familiarly-hued blue panties still remaining beneath. Her elbow-pads and boots have gotten the Court treatment as well, going basic black.
With all three dressed for battle, combined with their introduction, both the Sisters and the crowd look a little on edge. Any combination of these three beauties posed a tall order. Which alignment of heavenly bodies would go into battle against them?
There is perhaps one clue: Pandora and Locke, the two-thirds of FAWN’s imposing three headed monster that had vanquished the Big Guns for the belts, carry the straps over their shoulders.
Pandora approaches the ring, her hindquarters perhaps not possessing quite the same degree of bootyliciousness as her former stablemate LaKeisha Bates—few do—but her hips make up for it with extra sass. The Three stop at the end of the aisle, and as Ellie Goulding’s voice replaces Iggy’s, Pandora and Ashley slowly raise their title belts into the air, each with one hand...
“This heavy crown
You can't always please the crowd
But I am still not bowing down
This heavy crown
It comes and goes around
And when it's time, I'll pass it proud..."
Just as the last line begins, the Beach Goddess and the Goddess of Love violently pull their belts back down, toward their abdomens.
“But bytch I got it now!”
The champions fan out--Pandora remaining in front of the ramp, while Ashley drifts to the right side of the ring and Pappy to the left. The Three then each climb onto the apron, leaving only the ropes behind Clayton and McCrimmon--the ones FURTHEST from the aisle--free and clear, should they feel like running.
Not that they EVER would.
Panny, Pappy and Locke each thread one luscious leg through the ropes and into the ring... and all three BURST through the ropes, Pandora and Ashley letting their belts fall as they charge the challengers. The element of surprise allows the Beach Goddess to get the better of the Beantown Bombshell, pulling her into a snug embrace before executing a crisp belly to belly suplex...
BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XgO5wCyeeE8
The numbers game allows Pappy and Ashley to gain the upper hand on the Army of One Hot Chick, blonde and brunette driving Becky into the ropes with an onslaught of forearms. Together, the Greek Goddess and the Goddess of Love claim a wrist, launching Clayton on her way into the ropes, then joining hands to meet the rebounding Army Brat with a dual clothesline...
... but after the initial sneak attack, Becky keeps her head up. OR, more accurately, she DUCKS her head, allowing her to evade the wicked clothesline. Ashley and Adrianna have to break the clasp of their hands to turn around and reacquire Clayton--and when they do, the Army of One Hot Chick connects with a double clothesline of her own!
Ashley races back to her feet, but Becky proves quicker, clamping on a front facelock and falling back to deliver a swift ane effective DDT. Clayton doesn’t QUITE beat Papadopoulos back to verticality, but she ducks the incoming punch from the Greek Goddess. Reaching an arm across Adrianna’s impressive chest, the Army Brat’s other arm wraps around her foe’s back. Popping her hips, Becky powers the voluptuous brunette off her feet, slamming her to the canvas with a uranage.
URANAGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sUQgAISWOA
But while one Gun is rallying, the other remains in trouble. With McCrimmon doubled over, Pandora wraps her arms around Roxie’s waist, and shows distressing ease in swinging the sculpted blonde onto her shoulder. She shows even greater ease in TOSSING the Beantown Bombshell to the mat, Roxie’s face and chest striking the canvas harshly enough from the Dominator that she bounces over to her back. The Beach Goddess takes a small step back, only to lay out, landing her Tummy Tuck splash across McCrimmon’s mug.
DOMINATOR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sDgsgIwHUg
Pandora rises to her knees--and in so doing takes a seat directly atop Roxie’s face! The match hasn’t even officially started yet, and already Pandora’s Box threatens to snuff out the fight in one-half of the challengers!
And unfortunately for Roxie, Becky Clayton still has her hands full at the moment--though that looks like it might be about to change when the Army of One Hot Chick connects with a Big Boot to Ashley Locke. Alas, the Army Brat only manages one step toward Pandora when her arms are hooked from behind, Adrianna Papadopoulos back to back with the challenge. The Greek Goddess leaning forward hoists Becky off her feet, after which Pappy drops to her knees, DRIVING Clayton’s head and shoulder into the mat with the Curse of the Lamia.
CURSE OF THE LAMIA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2wdxlYNk608
Meanwhile, feeling Roxie’s struggles fading to near nothingness, Pandora dismounts the Beantown Bombshell and scrapes the normally imposing physical specimen off the mat. Slipping her head under McCrimmon’s left arm, Pandora grabs her waist and powers the robobabe into the skies. At the peak of her ascent, with the crown of Roxie’s skull pointed toward the mat, the Beach Goddess wraps an arm around her neck and lays out, SPIKING McCrimmon’s noggin with All the Evils of the World.
ALL THE EVILS OF THE WORLD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lhsc7z6vfQc
Instinct, no doubt, compels McCrimmon to roll toward the ropes. to keep from getting pinned--even though that’s not yet a consideration. But Pandora has no problems in letting her depart, and she follows the Beantown Bombshell to the floor. With only two of the Three left in the ring, the referee calls for the bell--and earns one of the loudest boos of the night in the process. But he also receives a round of applause from Ashley Locke, while Adrianna Papadopoulos slings Becky Clayton across her shoulder. And as the Greek Goddess rushes toward the near corner, the Howling Commandos hold their breath...
... but it’s to no avail. Pappy sends Clayton crashing face first into the top turnbuckle, Clayton’s feet only briefly touching down as she turns back toward the voluptuous brunette, and stumbles DIRECTLY into the heart punch that concluded the Hand of Athena. The Army of One Hot Chick goes down, HARD, left sprawled and motionless in the center of the ring...
... and Adrianna finally takes her leave.
Ashley Locke drops to her backside, taking a seat in Becky’s lap before pulling the Army Brat up to a seated position--and then a little further, stuffing Clayton’s face into her cleavage. Becky bucks and thrashes for a few seconds, even landing a few clubbing blows to Aphrodite’s flanks--but Locke is determined. It’s only a matter of time before the Army of One Hot Chick’s arms fall limp. The official takes Becky’s left wrist, raising her arm...
It falls ONCE...
It falls TWICE...
It falls THREE TIMES!!!!
“THAT’S IT!” the ref shouts, calling for the bell. “IT’S OVER!”
DING! DING! DING!
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer tells an enraged audience, who only boo LOUDER as Ashley REFUSES to relinquish the front sleeper, “your winner, via knockout... THE THHHRRREEE!!!!!”
Pandora climbs the ringsteps majestically, a tag title belt slung across each shoulder as she slips through the ropes. Only when she passes one of the straps to Locke does Ashley break the jugg smother, allowing a greasy-faced Clayton to fall to her back, the previous tag team champions emphatically disposed of.
Who might be next?