Post by alyadmirer on Dec 7, 2015 0:25:56 GMT
When Lady Gaga’s ‘Applause’ crashed through the arena the immediate response was the same in kind from the crowd, the FAWNatics clearly excited to see if a longtime veteran if recent favorite could start on a trek back toward the top or at least most highly regarded Mite.
APPLAUSE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pco91kroVgQ
The love echoed throughout the bowl, a reaction unthinkable not long ago, a healthy percentage of fans buying into the new attitude, whether or not it was from a place of respect and honor or from the need for applause.
DOMINIQUE DALY:
The leader of the Domi-Nation appeared with the first verse, the tawny little hardbody decked out in a gleaming white leotard dusted with tiny stars in red, white and blue. Strategic rips revealed several swatches of Daly’s trim midriff, her chiseled tummy matching the perfectly-sculptured shoulders, arms and thighs. The look was completed with matching white tape on her wrists and ankles and chalk powder on her palms and the soles of her bare feet.
Daly dipped her head and raised her hands to clap along with the chorus.
I live for the applause, applause, applause
I live for the applause-plause
Live for the applause-plause
Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me
The applause, applause, applause
Daly threw her head back, cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted “HIT IT!”
The lights turned strobe, flickering on and off so fast that even the most attentive fans couldn’t follow all of the effortlessly intricate series of tumbles, handsprings, flips and cartwheels that took the exotic brunette down the ramp. Tracking her was made all the more difficult by the thunderous trail of red and blue pyro that accompanied her journey from one end of the aisle to the other.
When the lights regained their equilibrium Daly was on the top turnbuckle. Spine tingling with the electricity of a thousand awed voices, Dominique threw her hands overhead in a ‘V’, then took their breath away again by launching into the sky for a spiraling descent planting her in the center of the ring.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Hailing from Portland, Oregon, she stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twelve pounds. She is the ORIGINAL Mighty Mite…and is now simply mitey awesome DOMINIQUE DALY!”
The crowd agreed with the announcement and roared as Domi “walked” in a handstand to her corner, flipped to her feet flawlessly, and settled into an expectant crouch for her foe.
“And introducing her opponent,--”
“Still your tongue, heathen.”
MIRANDA WAINRIGHT
ADELAIDE BREWSTER
The Announcer quieted down but the fans got real loud when Miranda Wainright and Adelaide Brewster breezed through the curtain atop the stage. Tonight Wainright wore a smart yellow and black plaid skirt, a deep yellow tank-top emblazoned with the phrase ‘Five minutes to Midnight’ in imposing gothic script and her ever present black hat. Adelaide wore an evening gown in the dark, ominous red of a Hunter’s Moon.
Dismissing the non-believers with little more than a sniff, Miranda raised her mic and proclaimed, “It is harvest time my poor lost lambs, a most righteous season if ever there was one. The crops have grown full and ripe, ready to be plucked, stored and put to good use at some later date.” She turned her attention to the brunette, singling her out with an imperious finger. “You are just such a crop, Dominique Daly. Ready, willing and able to do so much good for the world, yet if you remain in the field too long that promise will give way to so much rot. Such waste is intolerable to me, I would not have a talent such as yours go to waste. And heavens be praised, I have just the scythe for you.” Miranda stepped away from Adelaide, providing a clear path to the shadowy entryway.
“Introducing your opponent, hailing from Princeton New Jersey, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds. She is my scythe, my harvester, my Inquisitor, put your filthy, heathen hands together for the Queen of Hearts, TIFFANY MAYES!”
TIFFANY MAYES
Her proclamation was followed by jangling bell, which quickly gave way to guitars and drums, the former cutting out a simple riff which the latter strengthened with a staccato stomp. That was perhaps the only tie to the Tiffany Mayes prior to her conversion as the woman who brushed through the curtain in time with the first chorus of ‘Heaven Knows’ proved a far more dangerous individual indeed. Gone was the plaid skirt, the bustier, the shortened tie and even the dark brown locks. It’d all been replaced by a lot of lightly tanned, toned skin, a few swatches of black leather in the form of a bandeau style bikini top and matching bottoms, matte black pads and wrestling shoes and a long tangle of golden blonde hair almost identical to that of the Malevolent Moralizer.
Framed by her dark sisters, Mayes didn’t so much as blink until Wainright leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Then she licked her lips and made her way down the aisle with an almost serpentine swagger in her step. While the ’heathen’ Tiffany Mayes would’ve wasted time and energy interacting with everyone on the aisle, this new and improved version ignored them all, save for those dumb enough to reach for her. Those she swatted away without hesitation, as their heretical touch was far too much for her to endure.
Springing from the floor to the apron with feline grace, Tiffany slipped through the strands, then looked over her shoulder. “Rest easy, sisters.” she said softly. “I’ve got this.” Thus assured, Brewster and Wainright took their leave while Mayes took up residence in the middle of the squared circle. Eyes locked on Domi, she murmured, “You will join or you will suffer. Make this choice carefully, sister.” Daly held her tongue so Tiffany slid back into the opposite corner, where she endured the official’s touch just long enough to pass the final inspection.
The bell sounded and Tiffany came out of her corner with an odd mixture of swagger and purpose. It was in fact the stride of a woman handed a difficult yet rewarding task. Domi recognized it from tapes of herself walking the mats during her gymnastics days but she didn’t much like seeing it stamped across the features of her opponent. “Goal one,” the exotic little brunette said under her breath, “knock that stupid look off your face.”
Mayes didn’t catch the words, but she sensed heathen sass. “What was that, Dominique?”
“I said I’m going to knock that stupid look off your face, church lady. I just haven’t decided if I’ll slap it, kick it… or grind it.”
Wainright’s Grand Inquisitor looked nonplussed. “And just how do you plan to do that, pixie? With your sad, predictable, half speed off--”
Daly blazed off the buckles, took to the skies and snapped those sinewy stems open in anticipation of a Hurrica-- Tiffany dropped down and back in a gorgeous tumbling somersault that took her well out of the other woman’s range. Even so, Daly touched down like it was nothing and when Mayes popped to her feet the Tiny Terror was right there for a nose to nose staredown.
“Very nimble, Dominique. Almost good enough to catch me off guard, but then, ‘almost’ is the only thing you ever medaled in, wasn’t it? You almost beat Janel, you almost won a gold, you ALMOST proved yourself one of the most influential lightweights of a generation. Instead you’re little more than an afterthought in the division today. But that’s ok. You’ve got potential and there’s nothing Miranda appreciates more than potNNNGGGHH!”
Daly swiveled Tiffany’s head with a brisk slap, then slammed both hands against the Churchgoer’s chest and shoved her back on her heels. “I guess she’d have to love potential, wouldn’t she?” Domi snarked. “That’s the only reason she’d have any interest in a benchwarmer like NGGHWHOOFFHHH!”
Tiffany returned the Bytch Slap with interest, then busted out a straight vertical leap that ended with her astride the brunette’s shoulders. Half a heartbeat later she’d popped her hips and slung Daly to the canvas with the exact same ‘Rana Domi herself had missed a moment prior. Very much aware that she’d been out-quicked if only for a moment, Dominique rolled through the landing, sprang to her feet and wheeled around to square off with her foe for the third time in perhaps a minute. “I’ve only begun to unlock my potential, Daly.” the blonde cooed. “You on the other hand have nowhere to go but down… unless you welcome the blessed darkness of Eternal Midnight into your heart.”
Careful not to underestimate the former after school special again, Domi rubbed the sting out of her cheek, then shook her head ‘no’. “Not true, Mayes. There’s plenty of places I can go. Over you, for instance.” She raised her right hand and twiddled her fingers, daring the other lightweight to join her in a Test of Strength.
As eager to prove her devotion as any zealot, Tiffany matched her opponent’s pose and squeezed tight. Daly didn’t flinch, indeed she only raised her free hand. Mayes began to push a half second before their hands were locked and even that brief head start was enough to give her a clear advantage. Grimacing as her wrists were rolled back, Daly didn’t even think about bending the knee. Instead she arched her back in a bridge that left her balanced on her tiptoes and the crown of her skull. “Sad.” Tiffany chided. “I expected more, even if you’re only a near Olymp--”
Daly surged up off the mat, an amazing show of core strength and flexibility. She didn’t stop once she’d leveled off either, oh no. Domi kept right on going, her encroachment forcing Mayes to assume the bridge she’d just broken. “You couldn’t handle the Olympics, little girl.” Domi taunted. “You’re amateur hour all the way.”
Tiffany scoffed despite the awkward position. “I might believe you if there wasn’t a sloppy little roll hanging over your waistbaNNNGGGHH!”
Not about to take that sorta static from some demented 700 Club beeyotch, Domi pushed into a handstand, tucked her knees in high and brought all her bodyweight THUMPING down atop Tiffany’s washboard abs. Mayes shivered hard, almost buckled, then bridged stronger than before. “There’s some of the old Dominique Daly fire I’d heard so much about. Glad it hasn’t all been extinguished. Means there’s still something for me to do.”
“It’s gonna take a lot more than the Dite-Rite version of Miranda Wainright to snuff me out. Your gut though… I can already feel that quaking.”
Daly hopped off and launched herself straight up, presumably for a second Knee Drop. ‘Presumably’ being the operative word because Mayes rolled back on her shoulders and pulled her own legs up, all the better to brace her feet against the brunette’s tummy. Pushing off as hard as she could, Tiffany launched her adversary up n’ back and used their linked hands to peel herself off the mat. Far more important, she landed with her feet on Dominique’s thighs and laid out on her back to toss the Pernicious Pixie up, over and DOWN onto her back with a gorgeous Monkey Flip. Domi landed hard there was no question of that, yet the impact wasn’t enough to break her grip on Mayes’s fingers. After a second to breathe, she tilted her head back and growled, “Is that all you’ve got, slowpoke? I thought you were supposed to be fa--”
Tiffany bridged and Dominique did the same, the pair of gorgeous grapplers still nose to nose despite the fact that they were upside down. “Isn’t this supposed to be a Test of Strength, Daly?” the blonde snarked. “When’s the test supposed to start?” The words were barely out of her mouth when Domi torqued her hips and rolled onto her belly, forcing Tiff to do the same. Instead of rising, Daly pulled Mayes’s hands close and pinned them to the mat as best she could. “What do you think you’re doing? There’s nothing that will EERRGGAAAAHHHH!” Tiffany found out there was plenty the Mite could do when Domi slid her feet forward and planted them on the true believer’s hands.
Grip finally broken, Daly stood up and waved to the crowd while Tiffany struggled to extract her stinging digits. “Oh, isn’t that cute? You think you’re as slick as me!” Domi reached down and patted the blonde’s head before ruffling her hair. “Keep at it, Tiff! Say all your evil little prayers, pucker up to kiss Miranda’s butt every night and you just MIGHT be good enough to carry my bags one--”
Tiffany wrenched her right hand free and reared back for an Uppercut primed to split the brunette’s wickets. Too bad Domi bounced out of reach with a flawless back handspring that had even the surliest, old school ground n’ pound fans ooooohing and aaaaaahhing. Running down Mayes before the Inquisitor could regain her feet, Domi hopped and lashed her right leg toward the blonde’s temple in a gorgeous Shining-- nope! Tiff lowered her head, leaving Daly’s stem to soar harmlessly overhead. “Poor Domi. Always half a step too sloWWNNNNGGGHHHHH!” Dominique’s first shot might have whiffed, that’s why she’d prepared a back-up. With her left shin braced against the blonde’s planted leg, Daly launched a second kick that THWHACKED off the back of her foe’s skull.
BLACK MAGIC:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-8-dvx6C5Q
Felled by that old Black Magic, Mayes hit the deck shoulder-first before slopping onto her back. Domi was in the perfect spot to cover but instead she skipped over the stunned beauty and leapt skyward in a flawless back-flip that segued into an equally gorgeous Moonsault. Tiff’s legs shuddered with the impact and Domi hooked them both in a squirming bundle that pointed her tush toward the sky for…
ONE…
TWO…
and…half of THREE, though not the important hand-slapping portion.
Instead, Mayes kicked her way free of the pinning predicament, ending on her side, perhaps receiving the absent Miranda’s blessing as a means of escape. Whether that’s the case or not, Daly was already up, and with two handfuls of golden locks, RIPPING a wincing Tiffany to her feet.
“It really is time,” Domi said, rocking her foe with a wicked backhand chop to the chest, Mayes stumbling into backpedaling steps to the ropes behind her, “that you go back to school.”
Taking a wrist, Domi whipped the Inquisitor toward the opposite cables. Or that was the plan. A split-second change by Tiffany sent Daly off to the races instead and the Churchgoer headed toward the center of the ring to set up her chapel of pain, a special pew built for the exotic, vertically-challenged brunette. Stationed in Domi’s path, Mayes bent slightly to pluck the former gymnast off the deck and plant her with a Spinebuster that would send Daly’s column in all sorts of new directions.
But the springy beauty rose above such plans, flying high in a forward flip over the startled blonde, Daly planted her landing on the other side, stopping on a dime and making change. The taut and tawny-skinned Mite leapt into a gorgeous Dropkick that landed firmly on the jaw of a spinning Tiffany.
Mayes was dropped to the deck by the impact and Daly quickly kipped to her bare tootsies to the delight and applause of the FAWNatics. Hardly done, Dominique elevated, extending her abbreviated but sinewy stems both in front and behind her, the brunette landing an eye-catching, split-legged drop across the throat of the Churchgoer.
Tiffany shuddered from the unique maneuver, gasping and choking while Daly kept her right leg in place for the…
ONE…
TWO…
and Mayes pushed the limb off and away.
Hardly concerned or missing a beat, Domi was back up and sprinting. A fast-moving Daly was a dangerous beast indeed and the original Mite meant to prove it. Hitting the cables, Domi rebounded at full speed. As she approached the splayed Mayes, Daly effortlessly popped into a tucked forward flip, her knees headed toward the open midriff of Miranda’s minion.
But the confidence and assurance Tiffany had shown in recent matches manifested again as she rolled out of the way of the plummeting Domi cannonball and Daly’s knees THUMP against the thinly-covered plywood. Dominique yelped from the embarrassing and anguish-inducing miss. She rolled to her back turtling up in pain rather than to become a weapon.
A steely-eyed Tiffany, having rolled to a seat, gazed intently at the aching Mite, reveling in her baptism of agony. The blonde rose to make sure it continued, landing a half-dozen stomps to every available piece of the Portland native’s taut frame, the Inquisitor bruising thighs, ribs, shoulders and chest. Daly reached all fours for a moment only to have another stomp send her flat to her pert gurls and rock-hard abdomen.
“There’s only one way to rise to your potential,” Tiffany said, relenting long enough to yank Daly to her feet and then scoop an arm between her foe’s legs to vault the hurting brunette onto her right shoulder for a seeming slam. “And that’s see the light…” Tiffany sent Daly hurtling down but genuflected in front of the falling Dominique, the Mite’s lower back skewered by the bony joint.
“…and follow it into the Darkness,” Mayes finished, while pushing down on Domi’s chin on one side and her thighs on the other, Tiffany apparently trying to convince Daly of the Church’s first tenet; might makes right; while snapping the sinewy, mewling lightweight in half.
The ref bent down to check on Daly but before he could ask if she wanted to give, Tiffany raised her hands, locking them together, and drove a Double Axhandle into the chiseled abs of Daly. Domi had iron in her belly but the force of the blow made even her jackknife. Mayes disdainfully shoved the diminutive Pac Rim cutie to the deck, Daly cradling into a gurgling ball.
“If you insist on being another sacrifice that is your choice,” Tiffany tut-tuts, strolling around Daly, deciding what manner of torture would come next. The bendiness of the former gymnast made the decision slightly more difficult, but the blonde seemed to find an idea to her liking. She bullied a wincing Domi to her feet, blocked a right cross from the Mite, delivers a nasty forearm shiver that rocked Daly to her core, then wrapped her arms around Daly’s midriff in a reverse grip.
It quickly becomes clear why that’s Tiffany’s choice. The Inquisitor vaulted Daly off the deck, spinning her from head up to head down as she did. With the Mite overturned in front of her in Tombstone position, the crowd grew as silent as if it were Sunday in the cathedral. And again, the Churchgoer genuflected, this time brutally DRIVING Daly’s left shoulder into her posted knee.
Domi dropped to the canvas, howling and cradling close her devastated wing. She bit her lower lip, trying to cover a sob as she struggled to her perfect pear-shaped behind and butt scooted toward a corner. Tiffany watched peacefully, secure in the knowledge that she was about to deliver the cleansing fire Daly so needed.
“Have you finally had your ‘Come to Miranda’ moment, pixie?”
Daly growled an “FU” under her breath. She used her back to rise, pressing it tightly to the buckles behind her to get her chalkdust-covered soles beneath her. Tiffany charged and tried to splash the exotic brunette but Domi rolled clear, leaving nothing but empty corner for the wide-eyed blonde. Mayes SLAMMED not into the buckles but onto the brakes. And when Daly popped to her feet once more, she’s taken off them by a flash spin kick to her chin that laid the Mite out in a miniature spreadeagle
“If you don’t come to Church,” Mayes announced, “Church will happily come to you.”
The blonde beauty surged the few steps to the downed Dominique and front flipped into a breathtaking Somersault Senton that broke its way through Daly’s taut tummy musculature and CRUNCHED the abs in a way for which Daly was not prepared, Domi left a gagging wreck.
SOMERSAULT SENTON“
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuCaSdUbM84
Certain that the power of her righteousness had stripped the speed from the blaspheming brunette for the next several moments, Tiffany popped to her feet and strolled around Domi to take up residence in the corner directly behind her flattened foe. Standing with her left shoulder almost touching the top turnbuckle, Tiffany clasped her hands together at chest level and bowed her head. To the casual observer it looked like the blonde was deep in prayer, but the FAWN faithful had already noticed the twitch in her right leg. Soon it gave way to a full blown stomp, the sound of boot heel on canvas echoing like a funeral march as Daly rolled onto her aching stomach and started to rise. Give her credit, Mayes held her beat until Dominique was fully upright and turning her way. That’s when she hopped forward and PWAAAKED her right foot directly into the sore spot left by the Somersault Senton.
The former gymnast ‘guhhhhhhhed’ and crumpled to her knees, lucky not to land facedown considering how violently her hips flew back. Mayes caught her in a Front Facelock in an instant, then paused just long enough to murmur, “Let us pray.” She kicked both legs forward and laid out on her back, which THWONKED Daly’s forehead into the mat full force. Domi shuddered like a snake pinned under a heavy boot but couldn’t roll over until Mayes hooked the near arm in a Half Nelson and shoveled her onto her back.
SWEET GUT MUSIC @ LOW DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=q03Z6pzy27Y
Serene as the everafter, Tiffany pressed one forearm down against the side of her brunette’s jaw while her other hand mashed down on the strategic rips in Domi’s one piece. She hadn’t bothered to hook a leg but both of the non-believer’s shoulders were down so the ref slid in and counted…
ONE…
TWO…
Domi sat up with ‘TWO!’ a stern reminder that she was not to be taken lightly. “Your spirit in the face of inevitable defeat is impressive, Daly.” Tiffany noted with the slightest trace of admiration and pity. “But you would do well to save this energy for your arrival in the blessed darkness. After all you’d hardly be your best if you arrived to us as an empty shell.”
“Isn’t that how they got a hold of you, Tiff?” the stunned battler grunted. “Rumor has it Miranda and Tiffany beat your ass after you were exhausted, then fed you to Celia for three weeks of NNNGGHHH!”
Tiffany snatched a double handful of dark hair, got to her feet and immediately dropped to one knee to THUMP the joint between Daly’s shoulders. Taking advantage of her hair hold before the zebra could complain about it, Mayes hooked her left leg over Domi’s left arm and wrenched the limb out to one side, effectively removing it from the equation. In the same breath she trapped the Mite’s right arm in her left armpit and cupped that hand under Daly’s chin.
It wasn’t the worst stretch Daly had endured, not by a long shot, unfortunately it left her totally exposed as Tiffany demonstrated when she curled her right hand into a slight cup and SMACKED Dominique square in the face. Domi groaned, squirmed her right arm and reaaaaaaached her legs toward the ropes, all to absolutely no effect. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Tiffany SMACKED her a few more times, not arrogant little Bytch Slaps either, these were the designed to ring ears and loosen teeth. After nearly a dozen such blows the Churchgoer crooked her left arm all the way around Daly’s head and locked her hands at the base of the trapped woman’s neck.
GROUNDED DRAGON SLEEPER & PUNCHES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9oRWFGLB9E
“I know you take great pride in your flexibility, sister.” Tiffany murmured as she poured power into the Dragon Sleeper. “But pride not withstanding, the human neck can only take so much strain. Surrender to me before I discover your limNNNGGGGHH!”
Daly leaned back into the hold as far as she could, all the better to THWACK a kick into the blonde’s forehead. Mayes grunted, shook it off, then snarled unpleasantly when the ridiculously bendy brunette tagged her with a second kick. “And we all know you can run your mouth all night long.” Dominique sneered. “So maybe you should let me go before I knock your teeth down your throat!”
The Inquisitor’s response hit a snag when Daly slipped her left arm free and snatched a huge handful of blonde hair. “Is that the best you can muster, heathen?” Mayes growled through clenched teeth. “I thought you were mighty among your kinDEERRRGGGGHHH!” The ref started a count on the blatant hair pull which was all well and good for the laws of the land, but Tiffany answered to a darker power these days and it demanded a different kind of justice. So she freed her right hand from the Dragon Sleeper, curled it into a claw and SMECKED it against the modest swell of Daly’s right breast. “What say we test our respective grips, Dominique?” Tiff smirked through her grimace. “Care to place a wager on who seeks mercy first?”
Daly wasn’t about to ask for mercy, hell, she only released the hair hold for a second when the official reached ‘FOUR!’ “Good luck trying to make me quit with that weak ass grip.” the Mite sneered. “And good luck recruiting fresh blood with a huge hank of your scalp missAAARRRHHH YOU BYTCH!”
Tiffany broke the breast claw, stuffed that hand into the arm hole of Domi’s leotard and reattached her pincer grip, this time on the brunette’s nipple. Yowling in pain and embarrassment, Daly pulled the blonde’s head down as close to her as possible. Legs pulled in close, she braced her heels against the mat and puuuussssshed her way to verticality while still trapped in the Dragon Sleeper.
“YIELD HEATHEN!” Mayes shouted to her vulnerable adversary. “OR I SHALL BREAK YOU APART PIECE BY PIECNNNNGGGHHH!”
Dominique turned over in the Sleeper to transform it into a plain old Front Facelock. While this was far from pleasant it made for a much steadier base than her previous position and she wasted no time in taking advantage of it. Leaning into the zealot as best she could, Daly planted on her left foot and brought the right whipping back and over to THWHAP her foot between Tiff’s eyes. The grip around her noggin finally grew tolerable enough for the former gymnast to wrap her arms around Mayes’s waist. Hands locked, she dropped her knees and popped her hips to take Tiff onto her back with a snappy little Northern Lights Suplex. Domi bridged onto her toes as soon as she put the blonde down with the hopes of keeping her grounded through…
ONE…
TWO…
Tiffany SMACKED a palm into Daly’s ribs, breaking the cover with a full second to spare. Sore but feeling much better now that she was no longer mired in the Inquisitor’s clutches, Daly hopped to her feet and promptly pumped both of them into her opponent’s midriff. “Comin’ for your tits soon enough, punk.” she barked down at the retching blonde. “But first I’m gonna remind you who’s got the tuffest tummy in FAWN.”
To do so she fired off another Double Stomp and followed it with a Leaping Elbow Drop and a gorgeous Standing Splash all in the span of about five seconds. That last blow sent Mayes’s legs shooting off the mat, so Daly hooked the far stem and held on for…
ONE…
TWO…
Tiffany powered out, sat up and SMACKED Domi across the mouth just because she could. Daly blinked, growled and repaid the slight with a scathing slap of her own. “All right bytch, I’m through playing around. You wanna know why I’m the best? Let me show you!”
With that she snatched up Mayes’s right wrist in a Greco-Roman Knucklelock and used it to haul the blonde to her feet. After a wink to the fans she raced to the ropes, leapt onto the top and hopped off into a butt-first landing that provided more than enough ‘sproing!’ to send her flying backward in a gorgeous flip. Touching down like it was nothing, Daly hooked her arm under Tiffany’s and deposited her flat on her back courtesy of FAWN’s most gorgeous Hip Toss. Far from pleased by the heathen’s resurgence, a groaning Tiffany barrel rolled across the mat and dropped under the bottom rope to the relative safety of the floor.
WRISTLOCK SPRINGBOARD HIP TOSS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1Icy2v0Eps
Mayes landed deftly on the floor and angrily took off on a march around the ring, unable to envision why Daly so misunderstood the opportunity at hand. The former schoolgirl made it around one corner, but that put her in the flight path of the former gymnast. Having seen Tiffany grouse her way in a right angle around a ringpost, jawing with the heathens on the outside she had no interest in converting, Dominique took off on a sprint across the canvas.
The exotic, vertically-challenged brunette bypassed going through the ropes and instead launches over them just as Mayes turned to return her focus to her foe. It was truly unfortunate timing for the blonde, as the Plancha from the Mite sent Daly CRASHING down across Mayes. Tiffany tried to catch the diminutive brunette across her chest but there’s far too much momentum, and she’s flattened to the floor beneath the Pac Rim cutie.
Domi hopped up, leaving a blasted blonde at her bare feet. As the crowd called upon her to exact further punishment on the Churchgoer, Daly cheekily stepped those tootsies down on Mayes’ midriff as she crossed her, Tiffany groaning and rising in a slight jackknife. A curse threatened to escape Tiff’s lips but Domi interrupted with a tug of Mayes’s blonde locks that not only turned her words into a complaint to the official, but drew Mayes to verticality.
Exchanging her grip for a wrist, Dominique linef up Miranda’s Inquisitor toward the far barricade and whipprf Tiffany toward the steel. Mayes planted her feet, however, and reversed, only for Daly to reverse again. And with the original plan in place, it’s Wainwright’s acolyte that CLANGED into a collision with the steel barrier, Tiffany turning her back into the debilitating impact. To her credit, the stubborn Mayes staggered away from the steel, features etched in pain.
Domi was already on the move, sprinting at a speed even those a decade younger could rarely match, and LEVELED Tiffany with a leaping Shoulderblock that sent Mayes rocketing to the thinly padded cement floor. The meaty THWAP signified the power which Daly could muster through judicious use of her speed and sinew and no amount of prayer was helping the blonde to her feet at the moment.
Domi skidded to a stop, the crowd roaring at her newly won control, Daly showing her unique skill-set could be equally useful outside the confines of the squared circle. The Portland native slipped under the ropes for a moment before rolling back out, breaking the growing count. Collecting her foe, Daly provided the considerable assistance Mayes needed to reach unsteady feet.
From nowhere, the blonde drew a right uppercut up with her, sending it firmly into Daly’s taut tummy. The fist draws a soft ‘guhhh’ from Dominique, but the strength of her gut allowed the Mighty Mite to mostly ignore the effort, rip Tiffany’s head back by its suspiciously darker roots and SLAM her face into the rim of mat outside the ropes. Mayes’ noggin snapped back violently and she stumbled off drunkenly with Daly in hot pursuit.
Her forward motion halted by the ring steps, Tiffany leaned against the steel and was caught by the beaming brunette from behind. Daly started to turn Mayes toward the ring to throw her in, but some plaintive requests from the front rows broight a smile and she turned Tiffany back to the steps. Mayes shook her head as much as she’s able considering Domi’s grip on her golden locks.
“You will live to regret this, heathen,” she cries.
But the cheering affirmation from the FAWNatics made Daly’s choice for her. After all, she lived for the applause. AND SHE BANGED Mayes’ braincase into the top step, showing the willingness to get nasty that had long made the Mite someone loathed by the masses. Apparently smashing the face of a Churchgoer registered for good and all was immediately forgiven with the crowd.
Only now did Daly toss her rattled rival back in under the ropes, the Inquisitor rolling to a stop on her back, unable to rise. As Domi hopped to the canvas and viewed the waylaid Churchgoer on the mat, within easy striking distance of her nearly transcontinental flights, Daly headed up the corner post instead of entering directly. She bounded to the top with the greatest of ease and measured the battered blonde. Leaping HIGH into the stratosphere, Domi’s taut, tiny frame tucked into a ball at its apex before spreading out like a gorgeous ‘flying squirrel’, Daly aiming her Frog Splash across the open midriff of Mayes.
Unfortunately, Tiffany resurrected her awareness during Dominique’s downward flight, pulling up her knees and offering the bony joints as a landing strip. Domi’s almond-shaped, green peepers went wide as she couldn’t avoid being impaled by Mayes. Daly rolled away from the collision with a disturbing groan and gurgle, ending on her back, hugging her broken abdomen, the muscles within not offering enough protection to stop her from being gutted by Tiffany’s counter.
Both women remained horizontal in various stages of recovery for the next several seconds, the official starting his count on each until the former schoolgirl answered her inspirational call to convince or destroy.
Rising slowly and striding to Domi, Mayes sank her nails into the Mite’s scalp and plucked Daly to her feet. Once there, Tiffany released to dip and scoop an arm through Daly’s powerful if abbreviated legs. The Inquisitor lifted the former gymnast off the canvas, flipping her over and carrying the delectable cargo on her right shoulder, as if for a slam.
But instead, Tiffany turned to the corner, lowered and tucked Daly in tight, creasing the back of her foe’s knees over the top rope and knotting them there to create a particularly worrisome Tree of Woe.
With Domi trapped, sinewy ass over tea kettle, Mayes pushed away a complaining ref and bolted to mid-ring where she made a decisive u-turn and hustles back toward Daly, leaping when in range to deliver a crisp Dropkick to Daly’s already aching belly. The deep grunt from Dominique echoes through the front rows and provided fuel enough for Tiffany to scramble to her feet
With Daly still trapped in her Tree, squirming and grimacing, keeping a wary eye on the Churchgoer, Mayes sermonized once more, trying to convert the stubborn Mite. But before Domi could give an answer Tiffany raised a knife-edge of a right hand and CHOPPED it into Daly’s spandex-covered crotch. The FAWNatics released a full-throated groan of sympathy but it’s nothing in volume compared to the shriek escaping Domi’s lips, the Mite being able to see the vicious blow coming only adding to the terrible pain on impact.
Strong though it was, the chop-powered shudder that ripped through Daly’s tawny frame wasn’t enough to jostle her free from the Tree of Woe. So it wasn’t entirely surprising that the referee took it upon himself to extricate the inverted exotique and it was even less surprising when Mayes shooed him aside. “You needn’t sully your hands, arbiter.” she said brusquely. “Someone as spiritually weak as yourself might not be able to resist the contagion she carries. Thankfully I am ideally suited for the task.”
With that she grabbed a double handful of Dominique’s damp tousle and hoisted her into a slumped seat on the top turnbuckle. Of course that wasn’t exactly ‘off the ropes’ as the official was quick to point out, but Tiffany was far from finished. Still holding her foe’s hair, she coaxed Domi in a quarter circle and pulled her down so that the former Lightweight Champion was draped over the top ropes at chest and thighs with her tummy hanging exposed in the gap between. “Do you feel those butterflies in your stomach, Dominique?” Mayes had a huge handful of Daly’s hair and pulled back to better whisper in her ear. “They signal imminent exaltation or terror. Which one is entirely up to you.”
Domi knew she was in a bad way, unfortunately the failed splash and subsequent assault on her midsection meant the brunette could do little more than wriggle. “It’s exaltation, I’m sure.” she grunted. “The thought of kicking your sanctimonious ass just fills me with so much GUUUUHHHHH!”
Mayes tossed her foe’s head down, skipped back a few big steps and charged in with a high kick worthy of the Rock-ette’s. There was a THWHAP that sounded like a baseball bat striking yet clay, followed by a sympathetic groan from the crowd as Daly was launched off her vulnerable. The ‘aaaaawwww’s’ turned to ‘oooooooooh’s’ when Tiff positioned herself beneath the descending heathen and caught her in a Fireman’s Carry as neat as you please. Stomping to center of the squared circle like she was carrying nothing more consequential than a bag of laundry, Mayes spun in a quick circle, hit the brakes and slung Dominique off her shoulders to swing around on her six. Even Daly’s vaunted agility couldn’t save her from the Three Quarters Facelock that kept her glued to the blonde when Tiff laid out on one side and THAWHAMMED the former gymnast flat on her face, chest and tummy.
IT'S ACADEMIC:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6au2GvNBkw
Domi bounced up and flopped over into a defenseless starfish, a pose that didn’t change even when the Inquisitor palmed both of her shoulders and pressed down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Tiffany hadn’t hooked either leg, let alone applied any pressure across Domi’s midsection and she paid for it when the Mighty Mite kicked out with a heartbeat to spare. “Pitiful.” Mayes sniffed. “Clinging to the echoes and shadows of such an inglorious life. You’ll be so much better standing at our side… or crushed beneath our heels.”
Whether or not Daly had an option at this point was unclear, yet whatever happened would happen fast, as Tiffany wasted no time scraping her prey off the mat. Switching from hair-hold to Wristlock once both women were on their feet, Mayes pulled away, dropped a shoulder and hurled Dominique into the ropes on the far side of the ring. Lightning fast even when she was on autopilot, the limber little brunette bounced into the ropes and came off looking the tiniest bit steadier. Tiffany waited for her with knees dipped and fingers splayed -- when the time was right she thrust the latter into Daly’s midsection and pushed up as hard as she could to launch the heathen straight into the rafters. Posted fearlessly beneath Dominique’s descending shadow, Mayes spread her arms in anticipation of the second Fireman’s Carry in as many minu-‘OOOOHHHH!’
Incredulous joy from the FAWNatics when Daly landed across the zealot’s shoulders and immediately scissored her legs around Tiff’s left arm. Then she hooked an arm under the blonde’s right bicep and torqued backward to rip Mayes loose from her moorings. THWHUNK! Tiffany landed flush on the back of her head and shoulders before tumbling backward onto her knees.
DALY GRIND:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhQ4LtG1_rA
Galvanized by this sudden reversal of fortune, Domi scrambled to her feet with a bellow worthy of Autumn Sammain. While she almost always followed the Daly Grind with a pin attempt, Domi wasn’t quite ready for this fight to be over, not after the punishment she’d endured. So she circled around behind the penitent blonde, grabbed a double handful of hair and yanked Tiffany to verticality in a single savage tug. Working her head under Mayes’s left arm, she wrapped one arm around her waist and braced the other hand against the back of her left thigh. A Backdrop Suplex wasn’t a standard part of the Mite’s offense, but the crowd didn’t complain when she hoisted Tiff onto the point of her right shoulders. The script made a sharp break with tradition when Daly took a couple steps forward and tossed / twisted her burden around so that Tiffany’s legs landed astride her shoulders. Domi caught her gams in mid-air and forced the churchgoer down with all her strength, just PLANTING her against the deck with her brand new Mitey Bomb.
MITEY BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJE43K6FOfk
Looming over the splattered battler, Daly flipped hair off her face and muttered, “Who’s pitiful now, bytch?” She dropped, hooked the far leg and rolled Mayes up for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Tiffany lifted a shoulder off the mat, prompting boos from the crowd and irritated glare from Daly. Not mouthing off to the zebra proved a challenge, albeit one Domi passed with flying colors, probably because she’d already filled her hands with Mayes’s damp golden locks. “I don’t need to join your church to be converted, sweetheart.” Domi snarked to the woozy grapplerette. “Once that bell sounds we’ll both be converted. I’ll be a winner and you’ll be a loser.”
That said, she grabbed Tiff by the nape of the neck and charged the far corner as fast as her legs could carry her. BWUUUNG! Tiffany’s forehead hit the top turnbuckle hard enough to shimmy her knees but she didn’t go down and that was just as Daly intended. Sidling in from the left to slap on a Three Quarters Facelock, Dominique crouched down and launched herself up n’ over for “UUUUNNNNGGGGGGGHH!” Tiffany twisted loose of the former gymnast’s clutches and shoved her just hard enough to drop Domi gut-first across the top rope.
Eyes gaping, tummy burning, Daly bounced off the rubber-coated steel like she’d been launched and landed flat on her back. Instinctively drawing her knees up to protect her injured core, Daly huffed her dismay when Tiffany snatched hold of her ankles and folded them up beside her ears, matchbook style. No simple pin this, however. Mayes wedged her adversary’s footsies under the bottom rope, then grabbed the middle strand and pulled it down over the brunette’s ankles to keep her wedged in place.
“What the heck are you doing?” the ref griped to Miranda’s emissary. “You know I won’t count her down when her feet are in the ropes!” “Did I ask you to count her down, arbiter?”
Tiffany didn’t wait for an answer, she’d already hurried to the corner and leapt into the high rent district. Standing tall with her back to the wriggling heathen, the Inquisitor spread her arms wide and roared the Church’s edict at the top of her lungs. “HEAR ME NOW, FAWN! YOU WILL JOIN OUR REVIVAL OR YOU WILL BE DESTROYED BY OUR REVIVAL!”
Just what this meant for Dominique became painfully clear when the blonde crouched down and launched herself into the void. Curling into a tight ball while simultaneously twisting around in the opposite direction, Tiffany buzz-sawed through 450 degrees worth of Draconian Judgment before she stretched out and THAWHAMMED down atop the back of Daly’s upturned haunches. As if the normal Phoenix Splash wasn’t bad enough, this application ensued Domi was crushed beneath her own knees while putting ungodly pressure on her hamstrings.
Barely able to process what they’d witnessed, the crowd didn’t do much more than peep while Mayes grabbed Domi’s (now freed) ankles and draaaaaaaagged her well away from the safety of the ropes. They got a little louder when Tiffany straddled her waist, alas it was far too little, far too late. Shins astride her foe’s shoulders, the former Prep School Princess looked serene as a marble statue as she covered Domi’s face with her hands and nodded along for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounded, leaving the Announcer to confirm what everyone already knew. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… TIFFANY MAYES!”
At the sound of her foe’s name, Domi slid her mug away from Tiffany’s hands and moaned, “Yaaaaa….. yuuuuhhhhh…. you ruthless bytch. That could… could’ve crippled me.”
“Apparently I have more faith in your flexibility than you do, Dominique.” Tiffany smirked. “Yet another reason why you need the guidance of my sisters and I.”
Domi managed a weak shake of her head. ‘No’. “Never. I’ll never be one of Miranda’s robots, Mayes. But I will be the chick that knocks the faith right outta your ugly gguuuuhhhhrrrk!”
Tiffany wrapped a hand around Domi’s throat and squeezed. “You’ve been warned once, Dominique. There won’t be another. Balk my invitation a second time and your suffering will be a story to make Jungle recruits work all the harder.” She let go and SMACKED Daly once, a suitable parting gift for a truculent heathen. On her feet immediately thereafter, the Inquisitor raked a hand through her hair then glided out of the squared circle. “Let that be a lesson to everyone.” she told the camera who dared shadow her exit up the ramp. “Those who embrace Midnight will see their fortunes increase a thousandfold. Those who defy us will endure an unspeakable fate. So sayeth the Book of Wainright. Thus concludes today’s sermon.”
APPLAUSE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pco91kroVgQ
The love echoed throughout the bowl, a reaction unthinkable not long ago, a healthy percentage of fans buying into the new attitude, whether or not it was from a place of respect and honor or from the need for applause.
DOMINIQUE DALY:
The leader of the Domi-Nation appeared with the first verse, the tawny little hardbody decked out in a gleaming white leotard dusted with tiny stars in red, white and blue. Strategic rips revealed several swatches of Daly’s trim midriff, her chiseled tummy matching the perfectly-sculptured shoulders, arms and thighs. The look was completed with matching white tape on her wrists and ankles and chalk powder on her palms and the soles of her bare feet.
Daly dipped her head and raised her hands to clap along with the chorus.
I live for the applause, applause, applause
I live for the applause-plause
Live for the applause-plause
Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me
The applause, applause, applause
Daly threw her head back, cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted “HIT IT!”
The lights turned strobe, flickering on and off so fast that even the most attentive fans couldn’t follow all of the effortlessly intricate series of tumbles, handsprings, flips and cartwheels that took the exotic brunette down the ramp. Tracking her was made all the more difficult by the thunderous trail of red and blue pyro that accompanied her journey from one end of the aisle to the other.
When the lights regained their equilibrium Daly was on the top turnbuckle. Spine tingling with the electricity of a thousand awed voices, Dominique threw her hands overhead in a ‘V’, then took their breath away again by launching into the sky for a spiraling descent planting her in the center of the ring.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Hailing from Portland, Oregon, she stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twelve pounds. She is the ORIGINAL Mighty Mite…and is now simply mitey awesome DOMINIQUE DALY!”
The crowd agreed with the announcement and roared as Domi “walked” in a handstand to her corner, flipped to her feet flawlessly, and settled into an expectant crouch for her foe.
“And introducing her opponent,--”
“Still your tongue, heathen.”
MIRANDA WAINRIGHT
ADELAIDE BREWSTER
The Announcer quieted down but the fans got real loud when Miranda Wainright and Adelaide Brewster breezed through the curtain atop the stage. Tonight Wainright wore a smart yellow and black plaid skirt, a deep yellow tank-top emblazoned with the phrase ‘Five minutes to Midnight’ in imposing gothic script and her ever present black hat. Adelaide wore an evening gown in the dark, ominous red of a Hunter’s Moon.
Dismissing the non-believers with little more than a sniff, Miranda raised her mic and proclaimed, “It is harvest time my poor lost lambs, a most righteous season if ever there was one. The crops have grown full and ripe, ready to be plucked, stored and put to good use at some later date.” She turned her attention to the brunette, singling her out with an imperious finger. “You are just such a crop, Dominique Daly. Ready, willing and able to do so much good for the world, yet if you remain in the field too long that promise will give way to so much rot. Such waste is intolerable to me, I would not have a talent such as yours go to waste. And heavens be praised, I have just the scythe for you.” Miranda stepped away from Adelaide, providing a clear path to the shadowy entryway.
“Introducing your opponent, hailing from Princeton New Jersey, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds. She is my scythe, my harvester, my Inquisitor, put your filthy, heathen hands together for the Queen of Hearts, TIFFANY MAYES!”
TIFFANY MAYES
Her proclamation was followed by jangling bell, which quickly gave way to guitars and drums, the former cutting out a simple riff which the latter strengthened with a staccato stomp. That was perhaps the only tie to the Tiffany Mayes prior to her conversion as the woman who brushed through the curtain in time with the first chorus of ‘Heaven Knows’ proved a far more dangerous individual indeed. Gone was the plaid skirt, the bustier, the shortened tie and even the dark brown locks. It’d all been replaced by a lot of lightly tanned, toned skin, a few swatches of black leather in the form of a bandeau style bikini top and matching bottoms, matte black pads and wrestling shoes and a long tangle of golden blonde hair almost identical to that of the Malevolent Moralizer.
Framed by her dark sisters, Mayes didn’t so much as blink until Wainright leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Then she licked her lips and made her way down the aisle with an almost serpentine swagger in her step. While the ’heathen’ Tiffany Mayes would’ve wasted time and energy interacting with everyone on the aisle, this new and improved version ignored them all, save for those dumb enough to reach for her. Those she swatted away without hesitation, as their heretical touch was far too much for her to endure.
Springing from the floor to the apron with feline grace, Tiffany slipped through the strands, then looked over her shoulder. “Rest easy, sisters.” she said softly. “I’ve got this.” Thus assured, Brewster and Wainright took their leave while Mayes took up residence in the middle of the squared circle. Eyes locked on Domi, she murmured, “You will join or you will suffer. Make this choice carefully, sister.” Daly held her tongue so Tiffany slid back into the opposite corner, where she endured the official’s touch just long enough to pass the final inspection.
The bell sounded and Tiffany came out of her corner with an odd mixture of swagger and purpose. It was in fact the stride of a woman handed a difficult yet rewarding task. Domi recognized it from tapes of herself walking the mats during her gymnastics days but she didn’t much like seeing it stamped across the features of her opponent. “Goal one,” the exotic little brunette said under her breath, “knock that stupid look off your face.”
Mayes didn’t catch the words, but she sensed heathen sass. “What was that, Dominique?”
“I said I’m going to knock that stupid look off your face, church lady. I just haven’t decided if I’ll slap it, kick it… or grind it.”
Wainright’s Grand Inquisitor looked nonplussed. “And just how do you plan to do that, pixie? With your sad, predictable, half speed off--”
Daly blazed off the buckles, took to the skies and snapped those sinewy stems open in anticipation of a Hurrica-- Tiffany dropped down and back in a gorgeous tumbling somersault that took her well out of the other woman’s range. Even so, Daly touched down like it was nothing and when Mayes popped to her feet the Tiny Terror was right there for a nose to nose staredown.
“Very nimble, Dominique. Almost good enough to catch me off guard, but then, ‘almost’ is the only thing you ever medaled in, wasn’t it? You almost beat Janel, you almost won a gold, you ALMOST proved yourself one of the most influential lightweights of a generation. Instead you’re little more than an afterthought in the division today. But that’s ok. You’ve got potential and there’s nothing Miranda appreciates more than potNNNGGGHH!”
Daly swiveled Tiffany’s head with a brisk slap, then slammed both hands against the Churchgoer’s chest and shoved her back on her heels. “I guess she’d have to love potential, wouldn’t she?” Domi snarked. “That’s the only reason she’d have any interest in a benchwarmer like NGGHWHOOFFHHH!”
Tiffany returned the Bytch Slap with interest, then busted out a straight vertical leap that ended with her astride the brunette’s shoulders. Half a heartbeat later she’d popped her hips and slung Daly to the canvas with the exact same ‘Rana Domi herself had missed a moment prior. Very much aware that she’d been out-quicked if only for a moment, Dominique rolled through the landing, sprang to her feet and wheeled around to square off with her foe for the third time in perhaps a minute. “I’ve only begun to unlock my potential, Daly.” the blonde cooed. “You on the other hand have nowhere to go but down… unless you welcome the blessed darkness of Eternal Midnight into your heart.”
Careful not to underestimate the former after school special again, Domi rubbed the sting out of her cheek, then shook her head ‘no’. “Not true, Mayes. There’s plenty of places I can go. Over you, for instance.” She raised her right hand and twiddled her fingers, daring the other lightweight to join her in a Test of Strength.
As eager to prove her devotion as any zealot, Tiffany matched her opponent’s pose and squeezed tight. Daly didn’t flinch, indeed she only raised her free hand. Mayes began to push a half second before their hands were locked and even that brief head start was enough to give her a clear advantage. Grimacing as her wrists were rolled back, Daly didn’t even think about bending the knee. Instead she arched her back in a bridge that left her balanced on her tiptoes and the crown of her skull. “Sad.” Tiffany chided. “I expected more, even if you’re only a near Olymp--”
Daly surged up off the mat, an amazing show of core strength and flexibility. She didn’t stop once she’d leveled off either, oh no. Domi kept right on going, her encroachment forcing Mayes to assume the bridge she’d just broken. “You couldn’t handle the Olympics, little girl.” Domi taunted. “You’re amateur hour all the way.”
Tiffany scoffed despite the awkward position. “I might believe you if there wasn’t a sloppy little roll hanging over your waistbaNNNGGGHH!”
Not about to take that sorta static from some demented 700 Club beeyotch, Domi pushed into a handstand, tucked her knees in high and brought all her bodyweight THUMPING down atop Tiffany’s washboard abs. Mayes shivered hard, almost buckled, then bridged stronger than before. “There’s some of the old Dominique Daly fire I’d heard so much about. Glad it hasn’t all been extinguished. Means there’s still something for me to do.”
“It’s gonna take a lot more than the Dite-Rite version of Miranda Wainright to snuff me out. Your gut though… I can already feel that quaking.”
Daly hopped off and launched herself straight up, presumably for a second Knee Drop. ‘Presumably’ being the operative word because Mayes rolled back on her shoulders and pulled her own legs up, all the better to brace her feet against the brunette’s tummy. Pushing off as hard as she could, Tiffany launched her adversary up n’ back and used their linked hands to peel herself off the mat. Far more important, she landed with her feet on Dominique’s thighs and laid out on her back to toss the Pernicious Pixie up, over and DOWN onto her back with a gorgeous Monkey Flip. Domi landed hard there was no question of that, yet the impact wasn’t enough to break her grip on Mayes’s fingers. After a second to breathe, she tilted her head back and growled, “Is that all you’ve got, slowpoke? I thought you were supposed to be fa--”
Tiffany bridged and Dominique did the same, the pair of gorgeous grapplers still nose to nose despite the fact that they were upside down. “Isn’t this supposed to be a Test of Strength, Daly?” the blonde snarked. “When’s the test supposed to start?” The words were barely out of her mouth when Domi torqued her hips and rolled onto her belly, forcing Tiff to do the same. Instead of rising, Daly pulled Mayes’s hands close and pinned them to the mat as best she could. “What do you think you’re doing? There’s nothing that will EERRGGAAAAHHHH!” Tiffany found out there was plenty the Mite could do when Domi slid her feet forward and planted them on the true believer’s hands.
Grip finally broken, Daly stood up and waved to the crowd while Tiffany struggled to extract her stinging digits. “Oh, isn’t that cute? You think you’re as slick as me!” Domi reached down and patted the blonde’s head before ruffling her hair. “Keep at it, Tiff! Say all your evil little prayers, pucker up to kiss Miranda’s butt every night and you just MIGHT be good enough to carry my bags one--”
Tiffany wrenched her right hand free and reared back for an Uppercut primed to split the brunette’s wickets. Too bad Domi bounced out of reach with a flawless back handspring that had even the surliest, old school ground n’ pound fans ooooohing and aaaaaahhing. Running down Mayes before the Inquisitor could regain her feet, Domi hopped and lashed her right leg toward the blonde’s temple in a gorgeous Shining-- nope! Tiff lowered her head, leaving Daly’s stem to soar harmlessly overhead. “Poor Domi. Always half a step too sloWWNNNNGGGHHHHH!” Dominique’s first shot might have whiffed, that’s why she’d prepared a back-up. With her left shin braced against the blonde’s planted leg, Daly launched a second kick that THWHACKED off the back of her foe’s skull.
BLACK MAGIC:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-8-dvx6C5Q
Felled by that old Black Magic, Mayes hit the deck shoulder-first before slopping onto her back. Domi was in the perfect spot to cover but instead she skipped over the stunned beauty and leapt skyward in a flawless back-flip that segued into an equally gorgeous Moonsault. Tiff’s legs shuddered with the impact and Domi hooked them both in a squirming bundle that pointed her tush toward the sky for…
ONE…
TWO…
and…half of THREE, though not the important hand-slapping portion.
Instead, Mayes kicked her way free of the pinning predicament, ending on her side, perhaps receiving the absent Miranda’s blessing as a means of escape. Whether that’s the case or not, Daly was already up, and with two handfuls of golden locks, RIPPING a wincing Tiffany to her feet.
“It really is time,” Domi said, rocking her foe with a wicked backhand chop to the chest, Mayes stumbling into backpedaling steps to the ropes behind her, “that you go back to school.”
Taking a wrist, Domi whipped the Inquisitor toward the opposite cables. Or that was the plan. A split-second change by Tiffany sent Daly off to the races instead and the Churchgoer headed toward the center of the ring to set up her chapel of pain, a special pew built for the exotic, vertically-challenged brunette. Stationed in Domi’s path, Mayes bent slightly to pluck the former gymnast off the deck and plant her with a Spinebuster that would send Daly’s column in all sorts of new directions.
But the springy beauty rose above such plans, flying high in a forward flip over the startled blonde, Daly planted her landing on the other side, stopping on a dime and making change. The taut and tawny-skinned Mite leapt into a gorgeous Dropkick that landed firmly on the jaw of a spinning Tiffany.
Mayes was dropped to the deck by the impact and Daly quickly kipped to her bare tootsies to the delight and applause of the FAWNatics. Hardly done, Dominique elevated, extending her abbreviated but sinewy stems both in front and behind her, the brunette landing an eye-catching, split-legged drop across the throat of the Churchgoer.
Tiffany shuddered from the unique maneuver, gasping and choking while Daly kept her right leg in place for the…
ONE…
TWO…
and Mayes pushed the limb off and away.
Hardly concerned or missing a beat, Domi was back up and sprinting. A fast-moving Daly was a dangerous beast indeed and the original Mite meant to prove it. Hitting the cables, Domi rebounded at full speed. As she approached the splayed Mayes, Daly effortlessly popped into a tucked forward flip, her knees headed toward the open midriff of Miranda’s minion.
But the confidence and assurance Tiffany had shown in recent matches manifested again as she rolled out of the way of the plummeting Domi cannonball and Daly’s knees THUMP against the thinly-covered plywood. Dominique yelped from the embarrassing and anguish-inducing miss. She rolled to her back turtling up in pain rather than to become a weapon.
A steely-eyed Tiffany, having rolled to a seat, gazed intently at the aching Mite, reveling in her baptism of agony. The blonde rose to make sure it continued, landing a half-dozen stomps to every available piece of the Portland native’s taut frame, the Inquisitor bruising thighs, ribs, shoulders and chest. Daly reached all fours for a moment only to have another stomp send her flat to her pert gurls and rock-hard abdomen.
“There’s only one way to rise to your potential,” Tiffany said, relenting long enough to yank Daly to her feet and then scoop an arm between her foe’s legs to vault the hurting brunette onto her right shoulder for a seeming slam. “And that’s see the light…” Tiffany sent Daly hurtling down but genuflected in front of the falling Dominique, the Mite’s lower back skewered by the bony joint.
“…and follow it into the Darkness,” Mayes finished, while pushing down on Domi’s chin on one side and her thighs on the other, Tiffany apparently trying to convince Daly of the Church’s first tenet; might makes right; while snapping the sinewy, mewling lightweight in half.
The ref bent down to check on Daly but before he could ask if she wanted to give, Tiffany raised her hands, locking them together, and drove a Double Axhandle into the chiseled abs of Daly. Domi had iron in her belly but the force of the blow made even her jackknife. Mayes disdainfully shoved the diminutive Pac Rim cutie to the deck, Daly cradling into a gurgling ball.
“If you insist on being another sacrifice that is your choice,” Tiffany tut-tuts, strolling around Daly, deciding what manner of torture would come next. The bendiness of the former gymnast made the decision slightly more difficult, but the blonde seemed to find an idea to her liking. She bullied a wincing Domi to her feet, blocked a right cross from the Mite, delivers a nasty forearm shiver that rocked Daly to her core, then wrapped her arms around Daly’s midriff in a reverse grip.
It quickly becomes clear why that’s Tiffany’s choice. The Inquisitor vaulted Daly off the deck, spinning her from head up to head down as she did. With the Mite overturned in front of her in Tombstone position, the crowd grew as silent as if it were Sunday in the cathedral. And again, the Churchgoer genuflected, this time brutally DRIVING Daly’s left shoulder into her posted knee.
Domi dropped to the canvas, howling and cradling close her devastated wing. She bit her lower lip, trying to cover a sob as she struggled to her perfect pear-shaped behind and butt scooted toward a corner. Tiffany watched peacefully, secure in the knowledge that she was about to deliver the cleansing fire Daly so needed.
“Have you finally had your ‘Come to Miranda’ moment, pixie?”
Daly growled an “FU” under her breath. She used her back to rise, pressing it tightly to the buckles behind her to get her chalkdust-covered soles beneath her. Tiffany charged and tried to splash the exotic brunette but Domi rolled clear, leaving nothing but empty corner for the wide-eyed blonde. Mayes SLAMMED not into the buckles but onto the brakes. And when Daly popped to her feet once more, she’s taken off them by a flash spin kick to her chin that laid the Mite out in a miniature spreadeagle
“If you don’t come to Church,” Mayes announced, “Church will happily come to you.”
The blonde beauty surged the few steps to the downed Dominique and front flipped into a breathtaking Somersault Senton that broke its way through Daly’s taut tummy musculature and CRUNCHED the abs in a way for which Daly was not prepared, Domi left a gagging wreck.
SOMERSAULT SENTON“
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuCaSdUbM84
Certain that the power of her righteousness had stripped the speed from the blaspheming brunette for the next several moments, Tiffany popped to her feet and strolled around Domi to take up residence in the corner directly behind her flattened foe. Standing with her left shoulder almost touching the top turnbuckle, Tiffany clasped her hands together at chest level and bowed her head. To the casual observer it looked like the blonde was deep in prayer, but the FAWN faithful had already noticed the twitch in her right leg. Soon it gave way to a full blown stomp, the sound of boot heel on canvas echoing like a funeral march as Daly rolled onto her aching stomach and started to rise. Give her credit, Mayes held her beat until Dominique was fully upright and turning her way. That’s when she hopped forward and PWAAAKED her right foot directly into the sore spot left by the Somersault Senton.
The former gymnast ‘guhhhhhhhed’ and crumpled to her knees, lucky not to land facedown considering how violently her hips flew back. Mayes caught her in a Front Facelock in an instant, then paused just long enough to murmur, “Let us pray.” She kicked both legs forward and laid out on her back, which THWONKED Daly’s forehead into the mat full force. Domi shuddered like a snake pinned under a heavy boot but couldn’t roll over until Mayes hooked the near arm in a Half Nelson and shoveled her onto her back.
SWEET GUT MUSIC @ LOW DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=q03Z6pzy27Y
Serene as the everafter, Tiffany pressed one forearm down against the side of her brunette’s jaw while her other hand mashed down on the strategic rips in Domi’s one piece. She hadn’t bothered to hook a leg but both of the non-believer’s shoulders were down so the ref slid in and counted…
ONE…
TWO…
Domi sat up with ‘TWO!’ a stern reminder that she was not to be taken lightly. “Your spirit in the face of inevitable defeat is impressive, Daly.” Tiffany noted with the slightest trace of admiration and pity. “But you would do well to save this energy for your arrival in the blessed darkness. After all you’d hardly be your best if you arrived to us as an empty shell.”
“Isn’t that how they got a hold of you, Tiff?” the stunned battler grunted. “Rumor has it Miranda and Tiffany beat your ass after you were exhausted, then fed you to Celia for three weeks of NNNGGHHH!”
Tiffany snatched a double handful of dark hair, got to her feet and immediately dropped to one knee to THUMP the joint between Daly’s shoulders. Taking advantage of her hair hold before the zebra could complain about it, Mayes hooked her left leg over Domi’s left arm and wrenched the limb out to one side, effectively removing it from the equation. In the same breath she trapped the Mite’s right arm in her left armpit and cupped that hand under Daly’s chin.
It wasn’t the worst stretch Daly had endured, not by a long shot, unfortunately it left her totally exposed as Tiffany demonstrated when she curled her right hand into a slight cup and SMACKED Dominique square in the face. Domi groaned, squirmed her right arm and reaaaaaaached her legs toward the ropes, all to absolutely no effect. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Tiffany SMACKED her a few more times, not arrogant little Bytch Slaps either, these were the designed to ring ears and loosen teeth. After nearly a dozen such blows the Churchgoer crooked her left arm all the way around Daly’s head and locked her hands at the base of the trapped woman’s neck.
GROUNDED DRAGON SLEEPER & PUNCHES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9oRWFGLB9E
“I know you take great pride in your flexibility, sister.” Tiffany murmured as she poured power into the Dragon Sleeper. “But pride not withstanding, the human neck can only take so much strain. Surrender to me before I discover your limNNNGGGGHH!”
Daly leaned back into the hold as far as she could, all the better to THWACK a kick into the blonde’s forehead. Mayes grunted, shook it off, then snarled unpleasantly when the ridiculously bendy brunette tagged her with a second kick. “And we all know you can run your mouth all night long.” Dominique sneered. “So maybe you should let me go before I knock your teeth down your throat!”
The Inquisitor’s response hit a snag when Daly slipped her left arm free and snatched a huge handful of blonde hair. “Is that the best you can muster, heathen?” Mayes growled through clenched teeth. “I thought you were mighty among your kinDEERRRGGGGHHH!” The ref started a count on the blatant hair pull which was all well and good for the laws of the land, but Tiffany answered to a darker power these days and it demanded a different kind of justice. So she freed her right hand from the Dragon Sleeper, curled it into a claw and SMECKED it against the modest swell of Daly’s right breast. “What say we test our respective grips, Dominique?” Tiff smirked through her grimace. “Care to place a wager on who seeks mercy first?”
Daly wasn’t about to ask for mercy, hell, she only released the hair hold for a second when the official reached ‘FOUR!’ “Good luck trying to make me quit with that weak ass grip.” the Mite sneered. “And good luck recruiting fresh blood with a huge hank of your scalp missAAARRRHHH YOU BYTCH!”
Tiffany broke the breast claw, stuffed that hand into the arm hole of Domi’s leotard and reattached her pincer grip, this time on the brunette’s nipple. Yowling in pain and embarrassment, Daly pulled the blonde’s head down as close to her as possible. Legs pulled in close, she braced her heels against the mat and puuuussssshed her way to verticality while still trapped in the Dragon Sleeper.
“YIELD HEATHEN!” Mayes shouted to her vulnerable adversary. “OR I SHALL BREAK YOU APART PIECE BY PIECNNNNGGGHHH!”
Dominique turned over in the Sleeper to transform it into a plain old Front Facelock. While this was far from pleasant it made for a much steadier base than her previous position and she wasted no time in taking advantage of it. Leaning into the zealot as best she could, Daly planted on her left foot and brought the right whipping back and over to THWHAP her foot between Tiff’s eyes. The grip around her noggin finally grew tolerable enough for the former gymnast to wrap her arms around Mayes’s waist. Hands locked, she dropped her knees and popped her hips to take Tiff onto her back with a snappy little Northern Lights Suplex. Domi bridged onto her toes as soon as she put the blonde down with the hopes of keeping her grounded through…
ONE…
TWO…
Tiffany SMACKED a palm into Daly’s ribs, breaking the cover with a full second to spare. Sore but feeling much better now that she was no longer mired in the Inquisitor’s clutches, Daly hopped to her feet and promptly pumped both of them into her opponent’s midriff. “Comin’ for your tits soon enough, punk.” she barked down at the retching blonde. “But first I’m gonna remind you who’s got the tuffest tummy in FAWN.”
To do so she fired off another Double Stomp and followed it with a Leaping Elbow Drop and a gorgeous Standing Splash all in the span of about five seconds. That last blow sent Mayes’s legs shooting off the mat, so Daly hooked the far stem and held on for…
ONE…
TWO…
Tiffany powered out, sat up and SMACKED Domi across the mouth just because she could. Daly blinked, growled and repaid the slight with a scathing slap of her own. “All right bytch, I’m through playing around. You wanna know why I’m the best? Let me show you!”
With that she snatched up Mayes’s right wrist in a Greco-Roman Knucklelock and used it to haul the blonde to her feet. After a wink to the fans she raced to the ropes, leapt onto the top and hopped off into a butt-first landing that provided more than enough ‘sproing!’ to send her flying backward in a gorgeous flip. Touching down like it was nothing, Daly hooked her arm under Tiffany’s and deposited her flat on her back courtesy of FAWN’s most gorgeous Hip Toss. Far from pleased by the heathen’s resurgence, a groaning Tiffany barrel rolled across the mat and dropped under the bottom rope to the relative safety of the floor.
WRISTLOCK SPRINGBOARD HIP TOSS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1Icy2v0Eps
Mayes landed deftly on the floor and angrily took off on a march around the ring, unable to envision why Daly so misunderstood the opportunity at hand. The former schoolgirl made it around one corner, but that put her in the flight path of the former gymnast. Having seen Tiffany grouse her way in a right angle around a ringpost, jawing with the heathens on the outside she had no interest in converting, Dominique took off on a sprint across the canvas.
The exotic, vertically-challenged brunette bypassed going through the ropes and instead launches over them just as Mayes turned to return her focus to her foe. It was truly unfortunate timing for the blonde, as the Plancha from the Mite sent Daly CRASHING down across Mayes. Tiffany tried to catch the diminutive brunette across her chest but there’s far too much momentum, and she’s flattened to the floor beneath the Pac Rim cutie.
Domi hopped up, leaving a blasted blonde at her bare feet. As the crowd called upon her to exact further punishment on the Churchgoer, Daly cheekily stepped those tootsies down on Mayes’ midriff as she crossed her, Tiffany groaning and rising in a slight jackknife. A curse threatened to escape Tiff’s lips but Domi interrupted with a tug of Mayes’s blonde locks that not only turned her words into a complaint to the official, but drew Mayes to verticality.
Exchanging her grip for a wrist, Dominique linef up Miranda’s Inquisitor toward the far barricade and whipprf Tiffany toward the steel. Mayes planted her feet, however, and reversed, only for Daly to reverse again. And with the original plan in place, it’s Wainwright’s acolyte that CLANGED into a collision with the steel barrier, Tiffany turning her back into the debilitating impact. To her credit, the stubborn Mayes staggered away from the steel, features etched in pain.
Domi was already on the move, sprinting at a speed even those a decade younger could rarely match, and LEVELED Tiffany with a leaping Shoulderblock that sent Mayes rocketing to the thinly padded cement floor. The meaty THWAP signified the power which Daly could muster through judicious use of her speed and sinew and no amount of prayer was helping the blonde to her feet at the moment.
Domi skidded to a stop, the crowd roaring at her newly won control, Daly showing her unique skill-set could be equally useful outside the confines of the squared circle. The Portland native slipped under the ropes for a moment before rolling back out, breaking the growing count. Collecting her foe, Daly provided the considerable assistance Mayes needed to reach unsteady feet.
From nowhere, the blonde drew a right uppercut up with her, sending it firmly into Daly’s taut tummy. The fist draws a soft ‘guhhh’ from Dominique, but the strength of her gut allowed the Mighty Mite to mostly ignore the effort, rip Tiffany’s head back by its suspiciously darker roots and SLAM her face into the rim of mat outside the ropes. Mayes’ noggin snapped back violently and she stumbled off drunkenly with Daly in hot pursuit.
Her forward motion halted by the ring steps, Tiffany leaned against the steel and was caught by the beaming brunette from behind. Daly started to turn Mayes toward the ring to throw her in, but some plaintive requests from the front rows broight a smile and she turned Tiffany back to the steps. Mayes shook her head as much as she’s able considering Domi’s grip on her golden locks.
“You will live to regret this, heathen,” she cries.
But the cheering affirmation from the FAWNatics made Daly’s choice for her. After all, she lived for the applause. AND SHE BANGED Mayes’ braincase into the top step, showing the willingness to get nasty that had long made the Mite someone loathed by the masses. Apparently smashing the face of a Churchgoer registered for good and all was immediately forgiven with the crowd.
Only now did Daly toss her rattled rival back in under the ropes, the Inquisitor rolling to a stop on her back, unable to rise. As Domi hopped to the canvas and viewed the waylaid Churchgoer on the mat, within easy striking distance of her nearly transcontinental flights, Daly headed up the corner post instead of entering directly. She bounded to the top with the greatest of ease and measured the battered blonde. Leaping HIGH into the stratosphere, Domi’s taut, tiny frame tucked into a ball at its apex before spreading out like a gorgeous ‘flying squirrel’, Daly aiming her Frog Splash across the open midriff of Mayes.
Unfortunately, Tiffany resurrected her awareness during Dominique’s downward flight, pulling up her knees and offering the bony joints as a landing strip. Domi’s almond-shaped, green peepers went wide as she couldn’t avoid being impaled by Mayes. Daly rolled away from the collision with a disturbing groan and gurgle, ending on her back, hugging her broken abdomen, the muscles within not offering enough protection to stop her from being gutted by Tiffany’s counter.
Both women remained horizontal in various stages of recovery for the next several seconds, the official starting his count on each until the former schoolgirl answered her inspirational call to convince or destroy.
Rising slowly and striding to Domi, Mayes sank her nails into the Mite’s scalp and plucked Daly to her feet. Once there, Tiffany released to dip and scoop an arm through Daly’s powerful if abbreviated legs. The Inquisitor lifted the former gymnast off the canvas, flipping her over and carrying the delectable cargo on her right shoulder, as if for a slam.
But instead, Tiffany turned to the corner, lowered and tucked Daly in tight, creasing the back of her foe’s knees over the top rope and knotting them there to create a particularly worrisome Tree of Woe.
With Domi trapped, sinewy ass over tea kettle, Mayes pushed away a complaining ref and bolted to mid-ring where she made a decisive u-turn and hustles back toward Daly, leaping when in range to deliver a crisp Dropkick to Daly’s already aching belly. The deep grunt from Dominique echoes through the front rows and provided fuel enough for Tiffany to scramble to her feet
With Daly still trapped in her Tree, squirming and grimacing, keeping a wary eye on the Churchgoer, Mayes sermonized once more, trying to convert the stubborn Mite. But before Domi could give an answer Tiffany raised a knife-edge of a right hand and CHOPPED it into Daly’s spandex-covered crotch. The FAWNatics released a full-throated groan of sympathy but it’s nothing in volume compared to the shriek escaping Domi’s lips, the Mite being able to see the vicious blow coming only adding to the terrible pain on impact.
Strong though it was, the chop-powered shudder that ripped through Daly’s tawny frame wasn’t enough to jostle her free from the Tree of Woe. So it wasn’t entirely surprising that the referee took it upon himself to extricate the inverted exotique and it was even less surprising when Mayes shooed him aside. “You needn’t sully your hands, arbiter.” she said brusquely. “Someone as spiritually weak as yourself might not be able to resist the contagion she carries. Thankfully I am ideally suited for the task.”
With that she grabbed a double handful of Dominique’s damp tousle and hoisted her into a slumped seat on the top turnbuckle. Of course that wasn’t exactly ‘off the ropes’ as the official was quick to point out, but Tiffany was far from finished. Still holding her foe’s hair, she coaxed Domi in a quarter circle and pulled her down so that the former Lightweight Champion was draped over the top ropes at chest and thighs with her tummy hanging exposed in the gap between. “Do you feel those butterflies in your stomach, Dominique?” Mayes had a huge handful of Daly’s hair and pulled back to better whisper in her ear. “They signal imminent exaltation or terror. Which one is entirely up to you.”
Domi knew she was in a bad way, unfortunately the failed splash and subsequent assault on her midsection meant the brunette could do little more than wriggle. “It’s exaltation, I’m sure.” she grunted. “The thought of kicking your sanctimonious ass just fills me with so much GUUUUHHHHH!”
Mayes tossed her foe’s head down, skipped back a few big steps and charged in with a high kick worthy of the Rock-ette’s. There was a THWHAP that sounded like a baseball bat striking yet clay, followed by a sympathetic groan from the crowd as Daly was launched off her vulnerable. The ‘aaaaawwww’s’ turned to ‘oooooooooh’s’ when Tiff positioned herself beneath the descending heathen and caught her in a Fireman’s Carry as neat as you please. Stomping to center of the squared circle like she was carrying nothing more consequential than a bag of laundry, Mayes spun in a quick circle, hit the brakes and slung Dominique off her shoulders to swing around on her six. Even Daly’s vaunted agility couldn’t save her from the Three Quarters Facelock that kept her glued to the blonde when Tiff laid out on one side and THAWHAMMED the former gymnast flat on her face, chest and tummy.
IT'S ACADEMIC:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6au2GvNBkw
Domi bounced up and flopped over into a defenseless starfish, a pose that didn’t change even when the Inquisitor palmed both of her shoulders and pressed down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Tiffany hadn’t hooked either leg, let alone applied any pressure across Domi’s midsection and she paid for it when the Mighty Mite kicked out with a heartbeat to spare. “Pitiful.” Mayes sniffed. “Clinging to the echoes and shadows of such an inglorious life. You’ll be so much better standing at our side… or crushed beneath our heels.”
Whether or not Daly had an option at this point was unclear, yet whatever happened would happen fast, as Tiffany wasted no time scraping her prey off the mat. Switching from hair-hold to Wristlock once both women were on their feet, Mayes pulled away, dropped a shoulder and hurled Dominique into the ropes on the far side of the ring. Lightning fast even when she was on autopilot, the limber little brunette bounced into the ropes and came off looking the tiniest bit steadier. Tiffany waited for her with knees dipped and fingers splayed -- when the time was right she thrust the latter into Daly’s midsection and pushed up as hard as she could to launch the heathen straight into the rafters. Posted fearlessly beneath Dominique’s descending shadow, Mayes spread her arms in anticipation of the second Fireman’s Carry in as many minu-‘OOOOHHHH!’
Incredulous joy from the FAWNatics when Daly landed across the zealot’s shoulders and immediately scissored her legs around Tiff’s left arm. Then she hooked an arm under the blonde’s right bicep and torqued backward to rip Mayes loose from her moorings. THWHUNK! Tiffany landed flush on the back of her head and shoulders before tumbling backward onto her knees.
DALY GRIND:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhQ4LtG1_rA
Galvanized by this sudden reversal of fortune, Domi scrambled to her feet with a bellow worthy of Autumn Sammain. While she almost always followed the Daly Grind with a pin attempt, Domi wasn’t quite ready for this fight to be over, not after the punishment she’d endured. So she circled around behind the penitent blonde, grabbed a double handful of hair and yanked Tiffany to verticality in a single savage tug. Working her head under Mayes’s left arm, she wrapped one arm around her waist and braced the other hand against the back of her left thigh. A Backdrop Suplex wasn’t a standard part of the Mite’s offense, but the crowd didn’t complain when she hoisted Tiff onto the point of her right shoulders. The script made a sharp break with tradition when Daly took a couple steps forward and tossed / twisted her burden around so that Tiffany’s legs landed astride her shoulders. Domi caught her gams in mid-air and forced the churchgoer down with all her strength, just PLANTING her against the deck with her brand new Mitey Bomb.
MITEY BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJE43K6FOfk
Looming over the splattered battler, Daly flipped hair off her face and muttered, “Who’s pitiful now, bytch?” She dropped, hooked the far leg and rolled Mayes up for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Tiffany lifted a shoulder off the mat, prompting boos from the crowd and irritated glare from Daly. Not mouthing off to the zebra proved a challenge, albeit one Domi passed with flying colors, probably because she’d already filled her hands with Mayes’s damp golden locks. “I don’t need to join your church to be converted, sweetheart.” Domi snarked to the woozy grapplerette. “Once that bell sounds we’ll both be converted. I’ll be a winner and you’ll be a loser.”
That said, she grabbed Tiff by the nape of the neck and charged the far corner as fast as her legs could carry her. BWUUUNG! Tiffany’s forehead hit the top turnbuckle hard enough to shimmy her knees but she didn’t go down and that was just as Daly intended. Sidling in from the left to slap on a Three Quarters Facelock, Dominique crouched down and launched herself up n’ over for “UUUUNNNNGGGGGGGHH!” Tiffany twisted loose of the former gymnast’s clutches and shoved her just hard enough to drop Domi gut-first across the top rope.
Eyes gaping, tummy burning, Daly bounced off the rubber-coated steel like she’d been launched and landed flat on her back. Instinctively drawing her knees up to protect her injured core, Daly huffed her dismay when Tiffany snatched hold of her ankles and folded them up beside her ears, matchbook style. No simple pin this, however. Mayes wedged her adversary’s footsies under the bottom rope, then grabbed the middle strand and pulled it down over the brunette’s ankles to keep her wedged in place.
“What the heck are you doing?” the ref griped to Miranda’s emissary. “You know I won’t count her down when her feet are in the ropes!” “Did I ask you to count her down, arbiter?”
Tiffany didn’t wait for an answer, she’d already hurried to the corner and leapt into the high rent district. Standing tall with her back to the wriggling heathen, the Inquisitor spread her arms wide and roared the Church’s edict at the top of her lungs. “HEAR ME NOW, FAWN! YOU WILL JOIN OUR REVIVAL OR YOU WILL BE DESTROYED BY OUR REVIVAL!”
Just what this meant for Dominique became painfully clear when the blonde crouched down and launched herself into the void. Curling into a tight ball while simultaneously twisting around in the opposite direction, Tiffany buzz-sawed through 450 degrees worth of Draconian Judgment before she stretched out and THAWHAMMED down atop the back of Daly’s upturned haunches. As if the normal Phoenix Splash wasn’t bad enough, this application ensued Domi was crushed beneath her own knees while putting ungodly pressure on her hamstrings.
Barely able to process what they’d witnessed, the crowd didn’t do much more than peep while Mayes grabbed Domi’s (now freed) ankles and draaaaaaaagged her well away from the safety of the ropes. They got a little louder when Tiffany straddled her waist, alas it was far too little, far too late. Shins astride her foe’s shoulders, the former Prep School Princess looked serene as a marble statue as she covered Domi’s face with her hands and nodded along for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounded, leaving the Announcer to confirm what everyone already knew. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… TIFFANY MAYES!”
At the sound of her foe’s name, Domi slid her mug away from Tiffany’s hands and moaned, “Yaaaaa….. yuuuuhhhhh…. you ruthless bytch. That could… could’ve crippled me.”
“Apparently I have more faith in your flexibility than you do, Dominique.” Tiffany smirked. “Yet another reason why you need the guidance of my sisters and I.”
Domi managed a weak shake of her head. ‘No’. “Never. I’ll never be one of Miranda’s robots, Mayes. But I will be the chick that knocks the faith right outta your ugly gguuuuhhhhrrrk!”
Tiffany wrapped a hand around Domi’s throat and squeezed. “You’ve been warned once, Dominique. There won’t be another. Balk my invitation a second time and your suffering will be a story to make Jungle recruits work all the harder.” She let go and SMACKED Daly once, a suitable parting gift for a truculent heathen. On her feet immediately thereafter, the Inquisitor raked a hand through her hair then glided out of the squared circle. “Let that be a lesson to everyone.” she told the camera who dared shadow her exit up the ramp. “Those who embrace Midnight will see their fortunes increase a thousandfold. Those who defy us will endure an unspeakable fate. So sayeth the Book of Wainright. Thus concludes today’s sermon.”