Post by bigfan on Oct 1, 2016 19:31:30 GMT
Ordinarily Anna Sharpe's walk to the ring was measured, almost slow. But not tonight. Tonight Reverend & The Makers had barely gotten going and she was halfway down the ramp, rolling beneath the bottom rope and powering to her feet while the Announcer was still setting out the terms of this final encounter with Sammain. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit. There will be no disqualifications and no count-outs, and at the conclusion of the match the loser will submit to the winner for a five minute period.” The fans perked up at the promise of post-fight activities but the powerful Brit only gripped the top rope and muttered for her foe to hurry up.
"In the corner to my right, hailing from Islington, London, she stands five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred thirty pounds, ANNA SHARPE!”
ANNA SHARPE:
The crowd's creativity had produced any number of signs alluding to Caity's absence, as well as the run-in with Sammain that had preceded it. Anna planted her feet to stop herself from stomping over and tearing up every last one of them. “Get the fuck out here NOW, bitch!” she yelled up the ramp.
After several moments of tense silence, the Announcer cleared his throat. “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Tokyo Japan, she stands at one point seven meters tall and weighs in at fifty-nine point eight kilograms. She is the Dragon of Tokyo, the Joshi Kicking Machine, THIS IS… AUTUMN SAMMAIN!”
AUTUMN SAMMAIN:
Autumn came through the curtain at the sound of her name and didn’t stop moving, the limber brunette forgoing her usual kata and war cry to make a beeline for the squared circle. Icy in spite of the stakes, the Phenom ignored all the hands extended in her direction, tonight her attention was for Anna and Anna alone. Though her ring walk was short of its usual theatrics, the brunette’s attire remained the same, a jett black sports bra and matching bottoms which were all but obscured by the Joshi style ‘skirt’ that ended well above the knee. This garment was also dead black, save for several electric green slashes running from north to south. The rest of her outfit consisted of black kneepads, matching boots and fingerless green gloves that reached to just below her elbows.
Pace increasing quickly as she approached the ring, Sammain went from the floor to the apron in a single leap, then dipped through the strands and went straight for the Briton only to have step in her way. A gutsy move to say the least, yet it paid off long enough for Sharpe and Sammain to make it to their respective corners without throwing hands. Infinitely aware that laying out the few rules would be a colossal waste of breath, the zebra signaled the Timekeeper and got the hell out of the way.
Long stretches of playing nurse to Caity had given Anna's imagination plenty of time to fill the five minutes she'd have with the Phenom after the end of their match. In fact, so vividly had she done so that it had taken her a second to adjust to the sight of Autumn conscious and ambulatory in front of her. Then, working on the assumption that if there were no rules then there was no need to wait for the ref to explain anything, she went straight for Sammain without so much as a by-your-leave.
Autumn stood her ground to brawl with a mirthless smile, and they got to slugging with an intensity that enveloped them like a cloak, bundled together with their hate to the exclusion of all of it: the roaring crowd; the heat of the lights; their own forms on the video screen. Anna was punched onto her heels by the speed of the Dragon's fists but bounced off the ropes with a belting backhand across the mouth that had Autumn spraying spit like a busted hose as she was spun around.
“Last time you were out here your knickers were round your thighs,” Sharpe hissed, seizing Sammain by the back of the neck and swinging her into a THUMPING forehead on turnbuckle collision. “That'll seem dignified compared to how you end tonight.” Still with the grip on Autumn's neck she pulled the brunette out of the corner and wheeled in a circle that ended in her hurling Sammain between the ropes and down to the floor.
Confident she could set a pace no-one on the roster could match, Anna followed her foe to the outside in a hurry. Sammain had rolled on impact and was almost to her feet when Sharpe charged in with a Dropkick that sent the Dragon stumbling into the guardrail.
“F*ck her up, Autumn,” came the inevitable, witless shout from a couple rows back. This despite Sammain needing the support of the metal barrier to keep herself upright.
“Oh yes please, f*ck me up, tough girl,” Anna sneered as she scooped the Dragon off her feet with an arm shoved rudely between the legs. Sammain shrieked as the resulting Body Slam ended with her spine impacting the guardrail, which wobbled madly but somehow stayed standing under her weight. While she lay atop it Anna set to work pulling up the edge of the mat to reveal the concrete underneath. Pleased at the nervous hum in the crowd as the level of risk was amped up, the Brit lifted Autumn's head with a handful of lank hair, until Sammain's upper body was horizontal. “Gonna end you quick, Autumn. I want my five minutes.”
She stepped forward until Sammain's face was between her thighs and wrapped her arms round the brunette's torso, prepping to lift the hurting Phenom for a Tombstone Piledriver onto the concrete that would surely end the competitive contest part of the night. But Autumn fought it hard, first digging her nails in the back of Anna's knees, then opening her legs before bringing them smacking shut against Sharpe's head in a thightacular Bell Ringer.
The resultant loosening grip allowed Autumn to slither down the Brit's torso to the safety of the floor. Spinning on her ass she drove a mean little forearm between Sharpe's legs. Sammain rose to her knees as Anna slumped to hers.
“You feeling the pace, Anna? Don't think I'm putting you out of your misery that quickly.”
“What makes you think I'd have stopped because you were unconscious, sluAAGGHHH.”
Her brain frozen by Autumn's sudden underhand grip on her crotch, Anna stuck her butt out and tried to shuffle away, but Sammain knee walked after her. The Dragon's fury burned extra hot with the growing realization of just how close she'd come to being spiked on the concrete. “You want me to tell you how Caity begged?” she taunted, twisting her vicious grip until she saw tears run from Sharpe's eyes.
“Guuuhhhh…go on,” the Englishwoman croaked after Autumn ended the hold on her undercarriage. “Keep saying her name. Each one’s another tooth you leave on this goddamned floorRUUOOOFFFFFHHHHH!”
In no mood for threats from her blonde, Sammain stood up, swung around on Sharpe’s left side and THWHUMPED a huge Soccer Kick into her tummy. Anna folded up and went rolling into the barricade, which squealed and bounced off the shins of several front row fans. “Don’t act like she’s an innocent bystander in all this.” Autumn snarled as she made a slight adjustment to her skirt. “She enjoyed every second of humiliation you heaped on the likes of McKenzie and Sellers, not to mention all those cheap shots she took on me. Mason’s nothing but bikini meat with an attitude problem.”
The Gaijin Extraordinaire bent down, filled her fingers with Anna’s hair and hauled her into a penitent Front Facelock. “She deserved every bit of what I gave her… and you deserve so much more.” Sharpe made no reply, so Sammain tossed her rival’s near arm across her shoulders, then helped herself to a handful of waistband. Powering Anna to boot leather with a tug and an effortful grunt, the brunette popped her hips and THWHUMPED Anna out flat on the patch of concrete she’d exposed earlier in the skirmish.
“Eeeeerrrrggggggggghhhhhhh!” Sharpe’s back rose in a violent arch, one hand pressed to the small while the other pounded a furious beat against the offending floor. Apparently unsatisfied with her first attempt, Autumn peeled Anna off the floor and reeled her into an identical Facelock / togs grip combination, only from the other side of the bare patch this time around. “Don’t even think about NNNNNGGGGH F*CK!” the ballistic blonde shouted her hurt to the rafters when Sammain hit her with a second Snap Suplex in less than a minute.
SNAP SUPLEXES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_4XqYidBUQ
Anna landed on her tailbone and immediately crunched in on herself, forehead on her knees as she fought off the very worst of the pain. “I’m going to use every bit of this twenty minutes to grind you down, Anna.” Autumn’s hand was in her hair again, Sharpe hated the steely, possessive feel of the skinny bitch’s fingers trailing along her scalp, but at the moment she was too frozen with Suplex-shock to do much about it. “I’ll take it all the way to the last thirty seconds if I have to, but if it gets to be too much you can tap. Then you’ll only have five more minutes to endure.”
“Kiss my arse you savage, pretentious cunt.” Sharpe grabbed her attacker’s wrists in both hands and tried to prize it off her skull. “You’ll never make me quiTNNNNNGGHH!”
The Dragon planted on her left foot, pulled the right one all the way back and THWHACKED her prey with another murderous Soccer Kick. Anna gaped, her hands popping open to clutch at the air even as Sammain hauled her up yet again. A third Facelock followed, but rather than complete a hat trick of Snap Suplexes Autumn muscled Anna to high noon and kept her there. And kept her there. And kept her there. And kept her there until finally the FAWNatics reached ‘TWENTY!’ on their count. Whether or not the Dragon could’ve held on longer remained a mystery because that’s when she kicked one leg forward and laid out on her back to THAWHAP the hurtin’ powerhouse onto the bare floor.
DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1f1RvRvxq0
Anna moaned, rolled away from the hateful concrete and pushed to all fours. “Where you going, sweetie? Are you heading to the ring?” Sammain didn’t bother to pursue, she enjoyed watching the blonde crawl too much to interrupt. “You’re just swapping out concrete scrapes for canvas burns. Go ahead and crawl in though, I’ll be along to boot your ass up between your shoulders shortly.”
Anna flipped her off without looking back, clambered to boot leather and carefully eased her way under the bottom rope.
Autumn gave her a few seconds of lead time, then walked to the apron, hopped up and took the top strand in both hands. Feet spread at a slight angle, she leaaaaaaaaaned back, just patiently lining up her shot while Sharpe struggled to regain her vertical base.
Any comparison to a cat would not have amused Sammain. After all she was a Dragon, The Dragon, all ready to feast on the carcass of another rival. But what descriptor other than catlike sufficed for someone who could jump from the apron to balance on the top rope, and then into a leaping…
THWACK!
Anna's Clothesline blasted Autumn across the neck and shoulders before the elbow she had pointed for Sharpe's skull could land. The impact sent Sammain spinning through 360 like a foosball figure, to land on her tummy in a hurting sprawl, hands reaching for her throat while the air went out of the crowd with a gasp that was thousands strong.
Anna had fallen right back to her knees after delivering the shot. But the blonde's Suplex-induced aches were easier to ignore now Autumn was hurting too. She crawled to her grounded foe and lifted her head off the canvas with a spiteful tug of brunette hair. “I should have done this the first time you put your hands on Caity,” she hissed.
When she spat in Sammain's face it got another gasp. Shock, for sure, but mixed with a thrill of anticipation at how the Dragon would surely react. After all they'd seen, the dumb bastards still thought this was Autumn's fight to lose.
Sharpe took a moment to drink in the Phenom's utter incredulity then, as it melted into fury, slammed her forehead neatly into the canvas. Sammain's hands groped blindly for Anna's hair but the Brit took the tugging without complaint – the grip worked as a good indicator of Autumn's fading senses as Anna pounded out a thudding rhythm with her face. Soon Sammain's dangerous legs were reduced to kicking uselessly against the bottom rope. Her grip on Anna's locks faded sufficiently for Sharpe to shake herself free. The blonde knee-walked her way to a straddle of Autumn's shoulders and sat down hard. Taking a moment to brush damp hair from her face, she surveyed Sammain's terrain without enthusiasm. Bones. Bony angles where there should be curves.
Tired of the view, she span around on her mount and got her feet underneath her, then lifted Autumn's arms one after another to rest on her thighs. Linking her fingers under Sammain's chin she reared back in her first in-ring application of the Camel Clutch.
Not surprisingly, the Gaijin Extraordinaire gave the effort a scathing review.
“Unffhh. This is weak shit, Sharpe. Better stick to brawling,” Autumn's mouth was harder to shut than Cynthia Mitchell's legs (Despite herself, Anna was picking up on some of the FAWN gossip), but Sharpe didn't mind overmuch. The Brit leered down at her captive prey. The repeated impacts with the canvas had spread her disrespect in a gleaming trail across Sammain's face.
“If you'd seen the list of things Caity gave me to do to you tonight,” she murmured. “You'd have run to Key West as fast as those skinny legs could carry you, then kept right on going.”
“She cried… UFFHH…” Regardless of Autumn's scorn for the hold's effectiveness, she was finding it tough to get the words out. “She cried for you to come rescue her. Another… HMPPHH… Another thing you failed at, bitch.”
Sharpe gave up the Clutch and shoved Autumn's face into the canvas as dismissively as she could. “Know what I noticed, Sammain? The Cowgirl who whipped you raw just fought for the Championship. And the rich bitch who you couldn't put away was Champion for months. I see something shiny in my future once I'm done with you.”
“You're half right, princess. They do keep those hospital beds nice and polished.”
The Brit rolled off her foe and slid to the floor, where she seized Autumn's ankles with the intention of dragging her out of the ring. But Sammain grabbed the bottom rope on her way through, shook a foot loose and buried it in Anna's abs. Sharpe stumbled back with a grunt, allowing Autumn to find her footing on the mat.
Out of grudging respect for Sharpe's cardio, the Dragon took a defensive stance, expecting the blonde to get right back to it. But to her surprise Anna jogged round the corner and lifted the apron. Autumn heard the chorus of disapproval from the fans on that side before she saw the racquet Sharpe was spinning in her hands. The brunette smoothed her skirt with a sigh. As always, the weapon would be an added complication.
“Considering your career highlights before you soiled my ring.” Sammain huffed as Sharpe slid her way under the bottom rope. “Do you really think I’m worr--”
PWAAAP!
Anna lunged in with a sweeping right handed stroke that caught Autumn squarely on the left shoulder. It wasn’t exactly a shot from Leah Montoya’s brass cowbell, but it did sting something fierce and the waffle-patterned welt it left behind was more than a little irritating. Anna danced out of range, spun the racket in her hands and smirked when she heard someone in the crowd shout, “FIFTEEN, LOVE!”
“You know love is zero, right bytch?” Sharpe taunted as she started circling the brunette. “Just like you. A miserable little zero who thought she could stand in my wa--”
THWHAP!
The Englishwoman cringed when Sammain lit up her right thigh with a leg kick so savage it made everything from knee to hip go numb for a split second. “You’ve cried a lot of tears over this zero, Anna.” The return of Autumn’s smile just happened to coincide with the appearance of an ugly welt on Sharpe’s still tingling leg. “Is it because you missed being a joke on the tennis court? Or because you realized Mason liked snuggling my ass a whole lot more than--”
Anna threw the racquet straight at her nemesis’s face but damned if the Joshi Phenom didn’t catch it several inches shy of its target. No matter, it’d barely touched her hands when the Ballistic Brit stepped forward and THWHUMPED a vile Kneelift between Sammain’s thighs. Autumn groaned, dropped the racquet and doubled forward, her hands braced against her knees for much needed support. While it did keep her from crumbling to the mat, it also made it that much easier for Anna to force her into a glute-clenching Standing Headscissors.
Three months ago Sharpe would’ve clouted her foe’s back with heavy forearms or simply gone straight for the Piledriver. Now she flipped Sammain’s skirt up and hooked a huge handful of lyrca. The wedgie that followed made Autumn mewl in pain and embarrassment, Anna thought it’d make a great ring tone for when Caity called. “Go on and tap before I split you in half.” Sharpe taunted amidst sawing Sammain’s briefs back n’ forth. “Give up or I’ll make you eat th--”
“You’re pathetic.” Autumn countered through clenched teeth. “ Even after all this time, you haven’t learned a goddamned eeerrrrgghh… goddamned thing. Know the difference between you and Mason, Anna? She fought her heart out, even when she knew she was going to lose. You couldn’t muster a fraction of her fire you gutless cuWHOOWAAANNNNGGHH!”
Anna slapped on the Waistlock, hoisted her burden upside down and dropped to a seat to THAWHUNK Autumn’s noggin onto the fallen tennis racquet. The Dragon jolted loose and landed on her back in a glassy-eyed sprawl but the blonde didn’t considering hooking a leg for more than a second. Instead she mounted Sammain’s waist, grabbed the racquet in both hands and preeeessssssed it down against the vulnerable wrestler’s face!
“Submit bytch!” Sharpe bellowed as she put every ounce of her weight behind forcing the brunette’s face through the tightly strung mesh. “Beg for mercy before your fugly face gets that much worse!” Sammain keened and thrashed, but there was nothing of surrender in the sound, indeed it sounded much more like an enraged animal caught in a trap. The claws and slaps administered to Sharpe’s arms bespoke of a similarly defiant streak, one that Anna meant to break in the next five seconds. Pushing up on her knees, she leaaaaaaaned forward and sank down until her face was less than six inches removed from anguished Dragon.
“Scream, Autumn.” she cooed. “Scream Caity’s name before I grind you into nasty little cubEERRRRRRGGGAAAHHHHH FAAAHHHHKK!”
Autumn’s face couldn’t pass through the raquet’s mesh without considerably difficulty, her Mist on the other hand plumed up without impediment. The roiling emerald cloud caught Anna in the eyes and she rolled clear at once, the torture forgotten as she tried to swipe the mysterious gunk off her face. Beside her, Sammain sat up and put her face in her hands, the brunette gingerly ascertaining the damage the callous bytch had done with the goddamned racquet.
Fortunately it was mostly superficial. Painful and more than a little embarrassing, but Autumn had trained most of her life to endure pain, and the humiliation she had planned for Sharpe would make the griddle-pattern on her face look like nothing. The blinded Brit had lifted her top to wipe her eyes but the brief show of skin had gotten the crowd whistling approval, so she'd given that up with a frustrated flipping of the bird in their general direction. Autumn slid the racquet out of the way beneath the bottom rope and moved in on Sharpe's six.
Whatever other gifts she might have, at this early point in her career Anna's ring sense was still sorely lacking. She hissed and went to one knee as Autumn's foot lit up her kidney, bouncing right back up and spinning round, clutching at air. But Autumn was long gone.
“Over here, cunt.” No sooner had Sammain said it then she was elsewhere, diving at the Brit's knees to cut her down with a violent Chop Block made all the more devastating by the fact Anna hadn't seen it coming. Sharpe wailed and grabbed for the throbbing joint, rolling out onto the floor, where she was able to use the ring skirt to scrub her face at least partway clean of the muck from Autumn's mist. Unfortunately for Anna, restoring her sight only offered her a view of the incoming Dragon, Autumn having leapt feet first off the apron to fling Sharpe to the mat with a Headscissors Takedown.
“BitcOOOFFPPHHH.”
The Brit bounced and thumped into the metal rail, which wobbled but stayed upright, at least until Sammain's follow up Baseball Slide blasted Anna in the ribs, demolishing the barrier and leaving the Brit curled up and groaning at the feet of the first row of fans.
“No rules isn't working out so great for you, princess. Your crawl game is really picking up though,” Autumn teased, tugging her bottoms back into alignment. She'd been working with a wedgie ever since Anna dropped her on the racquet.
Sharpe was indeed making slow progress back toward the ring. The sight of her buttocks bunching up in her shorts as she struggled on all fours set Autumn's kicking foot tingling. The Dragon even took a moment to be playful, teasing the fans with an elaborate take-back before she booted the oblivious Brit in the ass.
“FUUUCCCKKK!” Sharpe grabbed for her backside, feeling like a truck had hit it, when she was tugged to her feet by the hair and flung shoulder first into the apron. Sammain followed her in and lit up her tits with an overhand slap that echoed like a snapped twig in the woods, and suddenly Anna was starting to hurt in too many places to keep track of. She tried to slide along the apron but the Joshi Phenom took her by the throat and leaned in close. The mesh pattern was fading from Sammain's face, although the hate was still bright.
“This is everything you wanted, Sharpe. The two of us out here in a straight up fight. Nothing to stop you beating the shit out of me like you told everyone a thousand times that you would. I gave you enough motivation. Your girl spent so long under my ass she could probably draw it from memory.” Autumn's thumb and fingers came together in a pincer movement around Anna's windpipe and the Brit coughed, her face turning red beneath the remnants of mist. “But you only thought you wanted it, didn't you bytch? Admit it, if you could wind things back to the moment you took that call, you'd leave Caity to suffer and run off back to coaching rich kids how to serve.”
Sharpe’s eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed in a fury as she finally understood the breadth and scope of Sammain’s disdain. But rather than hiss, curse or even fight to escape the stranglehold, the fuming Englishwoman buried one hand in her tormentor’s hair and the clamped the other around Autumn’s slender neck. Baring down with enough power to produce a supremely satisfying rasp in her opponent’s throat, Anna jerked Autumn in close and growled, “Shhhhut up and FIGHTEERRGGGHH!”
The Dragon obliged her in the form of a stiff Headbutt, the curve of her skull smashing into the bridge of her opponent’s nose.
Anna’s hooks loosened and Sammain started to shrug loose only to grunt in surprise and pain when the blonde doubled down and returned the Headbutt with interest!
Blinking away the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes, Autumn let loose of Sharpe’s throat and snatched a fistful of blonde locks, just above the hairline. A heartbeat later she pulled Sharpe forward and hit her with a second Headbutt. Anna’s knees went weak, she might’ve collapsed onto her butt if she hadn’t abandoned the choke and braced that hand against the apron. Breathing hard, Sammain yanked back on the Briton’s head so that Anna was forced to look up to meet her eyes.
“Give it up, Sharpe.” the Joshi Phenom huffed. “You think Mason will stay if I ruin you? I’ve already seen her making eyes at PandoNNNGGHHH!”
Anna couldn’t straighten up enough to answer with a Headbutt so she let loose of Autumn’s hair and turned her head nearly ninety degrees with a lip-bloodying Bytch Slap. “Luuuhhh… leave her out of this, you twat. This is between you and meEERRGGHHH!”
Autumn yanked the woozy blonde powerhouse to full verticality, drew her close and unleashed with a brutal flurry of Headbutts that forced Sharpe to backpedal with each new collision. No even exchange this, Anna did all the suffering, as one arm hooked the bottom rope while the other pushed fitfully against Sammain’s chest, shoulder, tummy or hip. The former kept her upright, the latter did absolutely nothing to dim the other woman’s fury. Indeed the skull on skull bludgeoning did not abate until Sharpe’s back and buttocks were pressed against the solid steel of the ring-post.
Flipping hair off her face, Autumn rest her forehead against Anna’s and took several deep breaths before she whispered, “I could spill your blood all over the floor, Sharpe. But I won’t. Not because I respect you as a fighter, I just don’t want to ruin a Face Sit with your ggggrrrrrhhhhhhh!”
Beaten into a near stupor by the Headbutts, Sharpe somehow raised a hand and applied it to the brunette’s left breast. The claw quickly narrowed in focus, Anna focusing on Autumn’s nipple with a brutal pincer that made her breath hitch and catch. “This… belongs… to me.” Sharpe whispered. “I’m going to stuff the mic in your face and make you bloody ADMIT IT when the match is ovAWWWWWW GAAAAHHHHD!”
Autumn slipped her dangerous fingers under Anna’s top like it wasn’t even there and doubled down on her nemesis’s hateful titty twister. Unable to maintain her own grip on Sammain’s bud, Sharpe grabbed the Dragon’s wrists and held on as tight as she could. “Leggo of me you bytch.” Anna hated the moan in her voice, but she could do nothing to quash it. “This isn’t wrestlinNNGGGGHH!”
Autumn pulled her prey away from the post, then drove her back into it, BWONKING Sharpe’s skull against the steel.
“You’re right, Anna. This isn’t wrestling. This is FAWN. And it’s time I gave you a proper welcome.” Breaking her clamp to spin the Briton around, the Gaijin Extraordinaire curled her left arm around Anna’s neck and pulled her close with a half-Sleeper. It would’ve been a full Sleeper, if Sammain hadn’t flattened her right hand into a paddle and slid it down the front of Anna’s waistband! Slipping three fingers into the gasping battler, Autumn set to work forcing a very specific kind of submission from her opponent, the efficacy of her efforts noted in the rhythmic ripples and bulges of that sweat-soaked black lycra.
“You...ungghh….you don't know what your doing down there, bitch.” But the quiver in Anna's voice gave the lie to that claim. The movement of her hips, too. Desperate to rid herself of Sammain's invading fingers the Brit backed up and squashed her against the ring post. Autumn grunted, then cursed as Sharpe's heavy boot came down on her foot. Trying her best to shut out the barrage of shouts from the crowd, the violated blonde drove herself backward over and over, hoping to make a Joshi escalope of Sammain's bony torso. Once Autumn was properly tenderized Anna grabbed the Dragon's wrist and pulled the questing digits from her bottoms with a snap of elastic and a gasp of pure relief. Having flung aside Sammain's arm, she stumbled away from her foe on legs that were more unsteady than she cared to admit.
“You want to take a minute, princess? You're looking a bit distracted.” Autumn pushed off from the ring post with a weary smile, then went wide-eyed in a hurry as the Brit charged at her with an energy level the Dragon hadn't expected, given the treatment she'd just dished out. Growling in fury, Anna got down low and tackled Autumn back where she came, into a spine-jarring collision with the steel post.
“I never need a minute, Sammain. And if you ever try something like that again I'll break every one of your fingers.” Breathing deep as Autumn melted into a slumping crouch in her arms, Anna stepped back and led the Dragon by the hair around the corner of the ring, away from those fans who had seen her so lewdly assaulted. She planted her feet and hurled Autumn against the hard edge of the ring, chasing the brunette in, so that when Sammain arched her back at the impact the Brit was there with a SMASHING Forearm across her foe's thrusting chest.
The clubbing shot got a gasp from the crowd at the rail. Autumn turned away hugging her goods and Anna butted her between the shoulders, earning a hissed “Bytch” for the effort.
“Damn right I am,” Sharpe muttered, before proving it by rolling up Sammain's sports bra, baring a good percentage of her perky boobs. After a quick groping squeeze confirmed the belief that the Dragon was working with nothing special, Anna went lower. First she turned Autumn round till they were face to face, then she flipped up that pesky skirt and worked her hands through the legholes of Sammain's bottoms, so that when she embraced the brunette in a Bearhug it was augmented by a particularly vicious wedgie.
“AAHHHHH YOU F*CKING WHORE!” Autumn wailed, pulling savagely on the hair at the back of Anna's head, the Brit having shrewdly burrowed in close to keep her features clear of Sammain's reprisals. In truth the hug wasn't Sharpe's best – the wedgie made the grip too awkward for that – but it was worth sacrificing a little effectiveness to add to Autumn's humiliation.
“Think of them watching back in that shytshack you grew up in,” Anna said, hot breath barely parting Autumn's sweat soaked hair. “Wearing their cute little Dragon t-shirts, so proud of everything they taught you about how to wrestle, the dignity of the life you lead.”
“Shut the fucunngghhhh!” Autumn trailed off into a sob of anguish as Sharpe summoned the strength to lift her off her feet, the material of her bottoms stretching to its limits.
“No! You shut up and listen, bytch!" Anna's voice was mean, and full of so much spite it fair dripped from her lips. "Turn your ugly head until you find a camera, and then tell anyone you care about to switch off their TV's the minute I pin your bony arse. Because if you make them watch what I do next they'll be even more ashamed of you than they already are.”
Anna’s words registered, but only as a vaguely troubling notion, something to be dealt with later. At the moment her primary concern was the steel band around her ribs and the goddamned garrote sawing into her undercarriage. Forced to admit that a hair-pull wasn’t going to get it done against a hardcase like Sharpe, Autumn put both hands on the blonde’s shoulders and puuuuuuuushed as hard as she could. It didn’t free her from the Englishwoman’s coil but it slid the brunette up just high enough to brace her shins on the sturdy planks of Anna’s thighs.
Irritated by the gulp and press of Sammain’s midsection against her cheek, Sharpe pulled the hug a little tighter and jostled the wedgie a little harder. “Nowhere for you to go now, pussy. Just close your eyes and tell the ref you can’t take any mogguuuurrrrkkkkk!”
Sammain slid her left hand between Anna’s face and her torso, then pushed out, forcing her opponent’s head back at an awkward angle. Though her forearm was pressed against Sharpe’s throat, it wasn’t actual choke, or at least, strangulation wasn’t the Dragon’s intent. Rather she just needed to create some separation between herself and Sharpe to ’THUMP!’ Anna grunted and staggered back a step when Sammain blasted the point of her right elbow into her forehead. She shrugged it off, tried to bring her head back in, but Autumn’s forearm kept her exposed and vulnerable to another half dozen elbow strikes.
Anna had been punched in the head more than once during her pre-FAWN career and plenty more after she stepped through the ropes, but they landed all over. Forehead, cheek, chin, etc. Not so with the goddamned brunette. Her elbows landed in the same spot above her right eyebrow every single time. Every. F*cking. One. Helpless to defend against the assault with her arms devoted to the Bear Hug, Sharpe suddenly sucked pushed up on her toes and “OOOOFFFFFHHHH!”
Autumn threaded her legs around Sharpe’s waist and bore down with a crushing Bodyscissors. Her counterattacks had done nothing for the hateful, unwanted thong, indeed it seemed to be riding even higher after the last flurry of offense. Teeth bared against the anguish, the Joshi Phenom bellowed her war cry and redoubled her efforts, Autumn’s right arm little more than a blur as she caromed shot after shot off Sharpe’s sku--THERE!
Anna’s hands came undone and she backed away, the woozy Englishwoman stumbling awkwardly as she pulled her hands from Sammain’s distended bottoms. Knees almost buckling when her feet touched the mat, Autumn screamed through the pain and lunged forward just quick enough to catch Sharpe’s hair. A stiff Toe Kick to the gut doubled the blonde over, leaving her an easy mark for the Standing Headscissors Autumn applied. Nearly out of her mind with anger and embarrassment after everything she’d been through, the Dragon didn’t even bother with a traditional Waistlock, she simply grabbed a double fistful of Sharpe’s bottoms and repaid the wedgie with cheek-baring, eye watering interest.
After a few seconds of this oh so understandable payback, Autumn dipped her knees and used the makeshift handle to haul the blonde off her feet. Anna’s heels were *just* pointing toward the rafters when the Dragon dropped to her tush and THWHUNKED the crown of her foe’s skull into the floor with a Piledriver.
Sharpe bounced away and rolled onto one side, the dazed powerhouse dividing her hands between her aching skull and her scandalously distended shorts.
Autumn fared little better, she’d collapsed onto her back in an exhausted starfish as soon as Anna’s skull made contact with the floor. Eyes closed, she mustered enough energy to fix her top, but that damned wedgie was just too much work, it’d have to wait until she was perched on Sharpe’s blubbering face.
There hadn't been a single pin attempt in the entirety of the match, Sammain realized, the thought pushing into her blurry mind all of a sudden as she staggered back to verticality. Granted they'd been out on the floor for a good chunk of it, but still…. “I guess we both wanted to take our sweet time. Isn't that right Sharpe?”
Anna had lifted her head at the sound of her name, so Autumn took the opportunity to drive her heel into the Brit's skull, flattening her back to the floor. Twin handfuls of hair and shorts rolled Anna under the ropes and Autumn followed her in and captured her nearest leg, which was kicking softly against the canvas.
The Dragon pushed her sweaty hair off her face and took control of the other leg, spreading Sharpe's limbs into a wide and vulnerable 'V'. The crowd went crazy at the setup for the Sharpshooter, and that had absolutely been Autumn's plan, what with the irony involved in the name, but holding the Brit so defenseless had her considering switching to something more brutal.
“Do it then, Sammain, you hypocritical piece of shyt,” Anna croaked, looking up to the sight of Autumn's foot hovering over her crotch.
The Dragon didn't answer at once. Instead she pursed her lips, planted her foot and folded Anna's muscular legs into an 'X'. Scrabble-wise an improvement on the 'V', but not much else about it was good for Sharpe, as Autumn slowly turned her onto her belly then straddled the Brit's back and sank into a deep, deep crouch with Anna's legs tucked in her pits.
“Bet you promised Caity you'd win this for her.” Autumn's interrogation came over the sound of Anna's screams. The brunette's voice trembled from the strain of forming yet another letter, this time a 'C' out of Anna's spine. “All kinds of promises. Staring into her eyes while you told here all the awful things you'd do to me. Promises you swore you wouldn't break.” Anna was crawling, inching her way pointlessly toward the ropes, a glistening trail of sweat marking the canvas behind her. Autumn let her make it a few feet, then dragged her back to the center of the ring and bore down harder. “The problem with that is, I promised Mason a few things too. By then she was asleep under my ass so she didn't hear them, but I keep my promises, Sharpe.”
“Caity, baby I'm sorry,” Anna panted, looking out wildly into the rows of fans. She'd bitten into her forearm so hard it had started to bleed.
Autumn tossed her aching head back to clear the hair from her eyes. Then she made good on her promise. Sweat popped on her forehead. She gritted her teeth as her ravaged backside bounced against the Brit's clammy back. “GIVE UP SHARPE! GIVE BYTCH!”
“AAAHHHHHHH! AAAGGHHHH! I QUIT I QUIT! STOP! STOP SAMMAIN STOP!” Anna's flailing hand slapped her final surrender.
Sammain nodded at the blonde’s capitulation, but she didn’t actually release the hold until the bell CLANGED and the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by submission… AUTUMN SAMMAIN! The five minute penalty will begin in thirty seconds!”
The crowd immediately started counting down so Autumn tossed Anna’s legs aside, stood up and let the official raise her hand. “A mic, please.” she told him after a moment. “Do you want me to delay the penalty period?” Sammain shook her head ‘no’. “This is part of the penalty. And I don’t need five minutes to make my point.”
Thus satisfied, the zebra strode to the edge of the ring and took the stick from the Announcer just as a countdown appeared on the FAWN’fron.
4:59
Accepting the mic immediately thereafter, the Joshi Phenom raised it to her lips and addressed the prone blonde. “Stand up, Sharpe. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
Sickened in a way she’d never felt after a loss on the court, Anna grimaced, clambered to one knee and then pushed to her feet.
“These people want to see me grind your face.” Autumn paused as the crowd roared agreement. “And they very well might, that all depends on you.”
Sharpe’s eyes narrowed as she raised her head to meet the brunette’s gaze. “What’s your game, Sammain?”
“You lost the game, Sharpe. This is something else. This is a choice.” The Dragon stepped closer, making sure there was no way the Englishwoman could or would look away from her. Seeing she had the blonde’s undivided attention, Autumn went on. “Option one, turn around, walk up that ramp and take your beaten ass on out of my arena, never to return. I figure that comes natural, considering it’s what you’ve done EVERY SINGLE TIME you’ve tasted defeat in the past. Oh, you’ll go one some podcast the next week and bytch about how the official was biased, the crowd was partisan or your opponent somehow cheated in a way that only you noticed, whatever the reason, you’ll find a reason why tapping out wasn’t your fault. Does that sound familiar, Anna? Does it sound like sound like something you’d do?”
Sharpe clenched her teeth and curled both hands into fists, her well-manicured nails biting into the soft skin of her palms. “What’s option two?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Stay in this ring, take the four plus minutes of punishment you’ve got coming and then clean yourself up so you can walk down the ramp tomorrow night. And the night after that. And the night after that. And every night after until you’ve finally earned your spot. So what’s it going to be, Anna Sharpe. You’re already a failed wrestler. Are you going to wake up tomorrow as a failed wrest--”
The strong blonde snatched the mic from Sammain’s hand, earning an interested ‘oooooooohhhhhhh’ from the fans. Without wasting another second (she wouldn’t have Autumn or her fans claiming she’d tried to run down the clock) Anna spat, “Do your worst you miserable scarecrow of a NNGGHH!”
Choice made, Autumn spun around on the spot and flicked out her left hand to TWHAP Sharpe’s jaw with a Uraken. Sharpe stumbled, dropped the microphone would’ve backed off if the brunette hadn’t claimed her wrist. Creating some distance with two giant steps, Sammain dropped into a deep crouch and slung Anna toward the strands for an Irish-- Autumn slammed the brakes, yanked Sharpe back the way she’d came and THWHUMPED a Kneelift into her belly. Anna doubled over and Autumn let her, the latter sinking to one knee while the former crumpled over the posted joint.
Looping her right arm over the small of Anna’s back, the Gaijin Extraordinaire looked at the clock and was pleased to see she still had 3:37 remaining. The glint in her eyes only intensified when she hooked her fingers into the Englishwoman’s waistband and pulled up and out at a near perfect forty-five degree angle. Anna gaped, then snapped her mouth shut, determined not to make a noise even as Sammain worked the hateful lycra like she meant to saw the blonde in half. Willfully ignoring the fact that these idiots were taking pictures of her practically bare backside, Sharpe let out a slow breath and sneered, “That the best you’ve got, twat? I’m disappointNNNNGGHHH!”
Autumn switched possession of the wedgie to her other hand, flattened the free hand into a slightly cupped paddle and laid a pink welt on strong curve of Sharpe’s glutes. “Had enough?” the brunette asked.
Anna swallowed a lump in her throat. “Of what?”
Sammain spanked her again, a set of six, three for each cheek. When she was done she tugged Sharpe’s involuntary thong back and forth. “Had enough?” Autumn’s tone hadn’t changed.
The battered Briton answered in the negative. “Not even a little. You’re a great warm-up for MasEEEERRRGGGGHHH!”
The painful paddling resumed, this time with a series of ten alternating blows. Sharpe held her silence throughout, but the wince on her face when Autumn traced a bright pink welt with one sharp-tipped finger told the crowd all they needed to know. “Remember how you laughed at McKenzie and Sellers when you spanked them until they cried?” Autumn asked. “I hope they’re enjoying this.”
Anger flashed across the blonde’s face. “You’re NEVER getting my tears, SammOOWWWWWW FAAAAAAAAAAAHHK!”
Autumn yanked on the wedgie so hard Anna’s tummy came off the brunette’s knee, which only meant her tush was that much closer to her tormentor’s smackin’ hand! No break in the shelling for this third set, Autumn simply kept the pace steady as Sharpe’s poor bum went from bright pink to deep red.
Absolutely certain this humiliation was almost over, Anna looked toward the stage and couldn’t stifle a moan when she saw 2:12. “Stop. Stop!” she called over the rhythmic sound of palm on glute. “Goddammit you bytch, stop spanking me!”
The demand was barely out of Anna’s mouth when Sammain grabbed her at hip and shoulder and dumped her onto her back! Hissing the instant her scalded buttocks touched the canvas, Anna tried to sit up but Autumn grabbed her shoulders and forced her down flat. “No!” Sharpe shook her head frantically, as if it could somehow stop Sammain from sliding into position directly above. “Don’t do it, bytch.” Anna growled. “You’ve proved your point, keep your ass off my MMMMMPPPPPPGGGGHHHHHHHH!”
Autumn pushed into a crouch, then spread her legs and slid forward into a perfect split that saw her backside envelope the Englishwoman’s features from forehead to chin. Pinned beneath cheeks that didn’t seem nearly as insubstantial as they had from a distance, Anna reached for the brunette’s waist, then squealed in pain when Sammain gripped her crotch in a white-knuckled claw! “Hands on the mat, Anna.” Autumn commanded. “Or I go under your waistband again.”
Galled at the thought of that sort of surrender in front of a packed house, Sharpe moaned and dropped her knuckles to the mat. Sammain squeezed her prey’s undercarriage a final time, before putting her hands on Anna’s gulping tummy. The next ninety seconds passed in a single gasp and grind for Autumn, whereas to Anna it seemed she spent an eternity mewling into the other woman’s togs.
Climax arrived with 00:10 left on the clock and it hit Anna like a knockout punch, the strong blonde finally swept away to darkness on a tide of cheers and one satisfied sigh. Remaining seated after the bell sounded for the last time, Autumn ran a hand through her hair and made a few minor adjustments to her skirt before standing on rubbery legs.
Motionless until she was steady enough to walk, Autumn started toward the ropes, paused and looked over her shoulder. In the end she remained silent. The Dragon had said all she needed to say. Whether or not Anna had listened… the world would find out soon enough.
"In the corner to my right, hailing from Islington, London, she stands five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred thirty pounds, ANNA SHARPE!”
ANNA SHARPE:
The crowd's creativity had produced any number of signs alluding to Caity's absence, as well as the run-in with Sammain that had preceded it. Anna planted her feet to stop herself from stomping over and tearing up every last one of them. “Get the fuck out here NOW, bitch!” she yelled up the ramp.
After several moments of tense silence, the Announcer cleared his throat. “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Tokyo Japan, she stands at one point seven meters tall and weighs in at fifty-nine point eight kilograms. She is the Dragon of Tokyo, the Joshi Kicking Machine, THIS IS… AUTUMN SAMMAIN!”
AUTUMN SAMMAIN:
Autumn came through the curtain at the sound of her name and didn’t stop moving, the limber brunette forgoing her usual kata and war cry to make a beeline for the squared circle. Icy in spite of the stakes, the Phenom ignored all the hands extended in her direction, tonight her attention was for Anna and Anna alone. Though her ring walk was short of its usual theatrics, the brunette’s attire remained the same, a jett black sports bra and matching bottoms which were all but obscured by the Joshi style ‘skirt’ that ended well above the knee. This garment was also dead black, save for several electric green slashes running from north to south. The rest of her outfit consisted of black kneepads, matching boots and fingerless green gloves that reached to just below her elbows.
Pace increasing quickly as she approached the ring, Sammain went from the floor to the apron in a single leap, then dipped through the strands and went straight for the Briton only to have step in her way. A gutsy move to say the least, yet it paid off long enough for Sharpe and Sammain to make it to their respective corners without throwing hands. Infinitely aware that laying out the few rules would be a colossal waste of breath, the zebra signaled the Timekeeper and got the hell out of the way.
Long stretches of playing nurse to Caity had given Anna's imagination plenty of time to fill the five minutes she'd have with the Phenom after the end of their match. In fact, so vividly had she done so that it had taken her a second to adjust to the sight of Autumn conscious and ambulatory in front of her. Then, working on the assumption that if there were no rules then there was no need to wait for the ref to explain anything, she went straight for Sammain without so much as a by-your-leave.
Autumn stood her ground to brawl with a mirthless smile, and they got to slugging with an intensity that enveloped them like a cloak, bundled together with their hate to the exclusion of all of it: the roaring crowd; the heat of the lights; their own forms on the video screen. Anna was punched onto her heels by the speed of the Dragon's fists but bounced off the ropes with a belting backhand across the mouth that had Autumn spraying spit like a busted hose as she was spun around.
“Last time you were out here your knickers were round your thighs,” Sharpe hissed, seizing Sammain by the back of the neck and swinging her into a THUMPING forehead on turnbuckle collision. “That'll seem dignified compared to how you end tonight.” Still with the grip on Autumn's neck she pulled the brunette out of the corner and wheeled in a circle that ended in her hurling Sammain between the ropes and down to the floor.
Confident she could set a pace no-one on the roster could match, Anna followed her foe to the outside in a hurry. Sammain had rolled on impact and was almost to her feet when Sharpe charged in with a Dropkick that sent the Dragon stumbling into the guardrail.
“F*ck her up, Autumn,” came the inevitable, witless shout from a couple rows back. This despite Sammain needing the support of the metal barrier to keep herself upright.
“Oh yes please, f*ck me up, tough girl,” Anna sneered as she scooped the Dragon off her feet with an arm shoved rudely between the legs. Sammain shrieked as the resulting Body Slam ended with her spine impacting the guardrail, which wobbled madly but somehow stayed standing under her weight. While she lay atop it Anna set to work pulling up the edge of the mat to reveal the concrete underneath. Pleased at the nervous hum in the crowd as the level of risk was amped up, the Brit lifted Autumn's head with a handful of lank hair, until Sammain's upper body was horizontal. “Gonna end you quick, Autumn. I want my five minutes.”
She stepped forward until Sammain's face was between her thighs and wrapped her arms round the brunette's torso, prepping to lift the hurting Phenom for a Tombstone Piledriver onto the concrete that would surely end the competitive contest part of the night. But Autumn fought it hard, first digging her nails in the back of Anna's knees, then opening her legs before bringing them smacking shut against Sharpe's head in a thightacular Bell Ringer.
The resultant loosening grip allowed Autumn to slither down the Brit's torso to the safety of the floor. Spinning on her ass she drove a mean little forearm between Sharpe's legs. Sammain rose to her knees as Anna slumped to hers.
“You feeling the pace, Anna? Don't think I'm putting you out of your misery that quickly.”
“What makes you think I'd have stopped because you were unconscious, sluAAGGHHH.”
Her brain frozen by Autumn's sudden underhand grip on her crotch, Anna stuck her butt out and tried to shuffle away, but Sammain knee walked after her. The Dragon's fury burned extra hot with the growing realization of just how close she'd come to being spiked on the concrete. “You want me to tell you how Caity begged?” she taunted, twisting her vicious grip until she saw tears run from Sharpe's eyes.
“Guuuhhhh…go on,” the Englishwoman croaked after Autumn ended the hold on her undercarriage. “Keep saying her name. Each one’s another tooth you leave on this goddamned floorRUUOOOFFFFFHHHHH!”
In no mood for threats from her blonde, Sammain stood up, swung around on Sharpe’s left side and THWHUMPED a huge Soccer Kick into her tummy. Anna folded up and went rolling into the barricade, which squealed and bounced off the shins of several front row fans. “Don’t act like she’s an innocent bystander in all this.” Autumn snarled as she made a slight adjustment to her skirt. “She enjoyed every second of humiliation you heaped on the likes of McKenzie and Sellers, not to mention all those cheap shots she took on me. Mason’s nothing but bikini meat with an attitude problem.”
The Gaijin Extraordinaire bent down, filled her fingers with Anna’s hair and hauled her into a penitent Front Facelock. “She deserved every bit of what I gave her… and you deserve so much more.” Sharpe made no reply, so Sammain tossed her rival’s near arm across her shoulders, then helped herself to a handful of waistband. Powering Anna to boot leather with a tug and an effortful grunt, the brunette popped her hips and THWHUMPED Anna out flat on the patch of concrete she’d exposed earlier in the skirmish.
“Eeeeerrrrggggggggghhhhhhh!” Sharpe’s back rose in a violent arch, one hand pressed to the small while the other pounded a furious beat against the offending floor. Apparently unsatisfied with her first attempt, Autumn peeled Anna off the floor and reeled her into an identical Facelock / togs grip combination, only from the other side of the bare patch this time around. “Don’t even think about NNNNNGGGGH F*CK!” the ballistic blonde shouted her hurt to the rafters when Sammain hit her with a second Snap Suplex in less than a minute.
SNAP SUPLEXES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_4XqYidBUQ
Anna landed on her tailbone and immediately crunched in on herself, forehead on her knees as she fought off the very worst of the pain. “I’m going to use every bit of this twenty minutes to grind you down, Anna.” Autumn’s hand was in her hair again, Sharpe hated the steely, possessive feel of the skinny bitch’s fingers trailing along her scalp, but at the moment she was too frozen with Suplex-shock to do much about it. “I’ll take it all the way to the last thirty seconds if I have to, but if it gets to be too much you can tap. Then you’ll only have five more minutes to endure.”
“Kiss my arse you savage, pretentious cunt.” Sharpe grabbed her attacker’s wrists in both hands and tried to prize it off her skull. “You’ll never make me quiTNNNNNGGHH!”
The Dragon planted on her left foot, pulled the right one all the way back and THWHACKED her prey with another murderous Soccer Kick. Anna gaped, her hands popping open to clutch at the air even as Sammain hauled her up yet again. A third Facelock followed, but rather than complete a hat trick of Snap Suplexes Autumn muscled Anna to high noon and kept her there. And kept her there. And kept her there. And kept her there until finally the FAWNatics reached ‘TWENTY!’ on their count. Whether or not the Dragon could’ve held on longer remained a mystery because that’s when she kicked one leg forward and laid out on her back to THAWHAP the hurtin’ powerhouse onto the bare floor.
DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1f1RvRvxq0
Anna moaned, rolled away from the hateful concrete and pushed to all fours. “Where you going, sweetie? Are you heading to the ring?” Sammain didn’t bother to pursue, she enjoyed watching the blonde crawl too much to interrupt. “You’re just swapping out concrete scrapes for canvas burns. Go ahead and crawl in though, I’ll be along to boot your ass up between your shoulders shortly.”
Anna flipped her off without looking back, clambered to boot leather and carefully eased her way under the bottom rope.
Autumn gave her a few seconds of lead time, then walked to the apron, hopped up and took the top strand in both hands. Feet spread at a slight angle, she leaaaaaaaaaned back, just patiently lining up her shot while Sharpe struggled to regain her vertical base.
Any comparison to a cat would not have amused Sammain. After all she was a Dragon, The Dragon, all ready to feast on the carcass of another rival. But what descriptor other than catlike sufficed for someone who could jump from the apron to balance on the top rope, and then into a leaping…
THWACK!
Anna's Clothesline blasted Autumn across the neck and shoulders before the elbow she had pointed for Sharpe's skull could land. The impact sent Sammain spinning through 360 like a foosball figure, to land on her tummy in a hurting sprawl, hands reaching for her throat while the air went out of the crowd with a gasp that was thousands strong.
Anna had fallen right back to her knees after delivering the shot. But the blonde's Suplex-induced aches were easier to ignore now Autumn was hurting too. She crawled to her grounded foe and lifted her head off the canvas with a spiteful tug of brunette hair. “I should have done this the first time you put your hands on Caity,” she hissed.
When she spat in Sammain's face it got another gasp. Shock, for sure, but mixed with a thrill of anticipation at how the Dragon would surely react. After all they'd seen, the dumb bastards still thought this was Autumn's fight to lose.
Sharpe took a moment to drink in the Phenom's utter incredulity then, as it melted into fury, slammed her forehead neatly into the canvas. Sammain's hands groped blindly for Anna's hair but the Brit took the tugging without complaint – the grip worked as a good indicator of Autumn's fading senses as Anna pounded out a thudding rhythm with her face. Soon Sammain's dangerous legs were reduced to kicking uselessly against the bottom rope. Her grip on Anna's locks faded sufficiently for Sharpe to shake herself free. The blonde knee-walked her way to a straddle of Autumn's shoulders and sat down hard. Taking a moment to brush damp hair from her face, she surveyed Sammain's terrain without enthusiasm. Bones. Bony angles where there should be curves.
Tired of the view, she span around on her mount and got her feet underneath her, then lifted Autumn's arms one after another to rest on her thighs. Linking her fingers under Sammain's chin she reared back in her first in-ring application of the Camel Clutch.
Not surprisingly, the Gaijin Extraordinaire gave the effort a scathing review.
“Unffhh. This is weak shit, Sharpe. Better stick to brawling,” Autumn's mouth was harder to shut than Cynthia Mitchell's legs (Despite herself, Anna was picking up on some of the FAWN gossip), but Sharpe didn't mind overmuch. The Brit leered down at her captive prey. The repeated impacts with the canvas had spread her disrespect in a gleaming trail across Sammain's face.
“If you'd seen the list of things Caity gave me to do to you tonight,” she murmured. “You'd have run to Key West as fast as those skinny legs could carry you, then kept right on going.”
“She cried… UFFHH…” Regardless of Autumn's scorn for the hold's effectiveness, she was finding it tough to get the words out. “She cried for you to come rescue her. Another… HMPPHH… Another thing you failed at, bitch.”
Sharpe gave up the Clutch and shoved Autumn's face into the canvas as dismissively as she could. “Know what I noticed, Sammain? The Cowgirl who whipped you raw just fought for the Championship. And the rich bitch who you couldn't put away was Champion for months. I see something shiny in my future once I'm done with you.”
“You're half right, princess. They do keep those hospital beds nice and polished.”
The Brit rolled off her foe and slid to the floor, where she seized Autumn's ankles with the intention of dragging her out of the ring. But Sammain grabbed the bottom rope on her way through, shook a foot loose and buried it in Anna's abs. Sharpe stumbled back with a grunt, allowing Autumn to find her footing on the mat.
Out of grudging respect for Sharpe's cardio, the Dragon took a defensive stance, expecting the blonde to get right back to it. But to her surprise Anna jogged round the corner and lifted the apron. Autumn heard the chorus of disapproval from the fans on that side before she saw the racquet Sharpe was spinning in her hands. The brunette smoothed her skirt with a sigh. As always, the weapon would be an added complication.
“Considering your career highlights before you soiled my ring.” Sammain huffed as Sharpe slid her way under the bottom rope. “Do you really think I’m worr--”
PWAAAP!
Anna lunged in with a sweeping right handed stroke that caught Autumn squarely on the left shoulder. It wasn’t exactly a shot from Leah Montoya’s brass cowbell, but it did sting something fierce and the waffle-patterned welt it left behind was more than a little irritating. Anna danced out of range, spun the racket in her hands and smirked when she heard someone in the crowd shout, “FIFTEEN, LOVE!”
“You know love is zero, right bytch?” Sharpe taunted as she started circling the brunette. “Just like you. A miserable little zero who thought she could stand in my wa--”
THWHAP!
The Englishwoman cringed when Sammain lit up her right thigh with a leg kick so savage it made everything from knee to hip go numb for a split second. “You’ve cried a lot of tears over this zero, Anna.” The return of Autumn’s smile just happened to coincide with the appearance of an ugly welt on Sharpe’s still tingling leg. “Is it because you missed being a joke on the tennis court? Or because you realized Mason liked snuggling my ass a whole lot more than--”
Anna threw the racquet straight at her nemesis’s face but damned if the Joshi Phenom didn’t catch it several inches shy of its target. No matter, it’d barely touched her hands when the Ballistic Brit stepped forward and THWHUMPED a vile Kneelift between Sammain’s thighs. Autumn groaned, dropped the racquet and doubled forward, her hands braced against her knees for much needed support. While it did keep her from crumbling to the mat, it also made it that much easier for Anna to force her into a glute-clenching Standing Headscissors.
Three months ago Sharpe would’ve clouted her foe’s back with heavy forearms or simply gone straight for the Piledriver. Now she flipped Sammain’s skirt up and hooked a huge handful of lyrca. The wedgie that followed made Autumn mewl in pain and embarrassment, Anna thought it’d make a great ring tone for when Caity called. “Go on and tap before I split you in half.” Sharpe taunted amidst sawing Sammain’s briefs back n’ forth. “Give up or I’ll make you eat th--”
“You’re pathetic.” Autumn countered through clenched teeth. “ Even after all this time, you haven’t learned a goddamned eeerrrrgghh… goddamned thing. Know the difference between you and Mason, Anna? She fought her heart out, even when she knew she was going to lose. You couldn’t muster a fraction of her fire you gutless cuWHOOWAAANNNNGGHH!”
Anna slapped on the Waistlock, hoisted her burden upside down and dropped to a seat to THAWHUNK Autumn’s noggin onto the fallen tennis racquet. The Dragon jolted loose and landed on her back in a glassy-eyed sprawl but the blonde didn’t considering hooking a leg for more than a second. Instead she mounted Sammain’s waist, grabbed the racquet in both hands and preeeessssssed it down against the vulnerable wrestler’s face!
“Submit bytch!” Sharpe bellowed as she put every ounce of her weight behind forcing the brunette’s face through the tightly strung mesh. “Beg for mercy before your fugly face gets that much worse!” Sammain keened and thrashed, but there was nothing of surrender in the sound, indeed it sounded much more like an enraged animal caught in a trap. The claws and slaps administered to Sharpe’s arms bespoke of a similarly defiant streak, one that Anna meant to break in the next five seconds. Pushing up on her knees, she leaaaaaaaned forward and sank down until her face was less than six inches removed from anguished Dragon.
“Scream, Autumn.” she cooed. “Scream Caity’s name before I grind you into nasty little cubEERRRRRRGGGAAAHHHHH FAAAHHHHKK!”
Autumn’s face couldn’t pass through the raquet’s mesh without considerably difficulty, her Mist on the other hand plumed up without impediment. The roiling emerald cloud caught Anna in the eyes and she rolled clear at once, the torture forgotten as she tried to swipe the mysterious gunk off her face. Beside her, Sammain sat up and put her face in her hands, the brunette gingerly ascertaining the damage the callous bytch had done with the goddamned racquet.
Fortunately it was mostly superficial. Painful and more than a little embarrassing, but Autumn had trained most of her life to endure pain, and the humiliation she had planned for Sharpe would make the griddle-pattern on her face look like nothing. The blinded Brit had lifted her top to wipe her eyes but the brief show of skin had gotten the crowd whistling approval, so she'd given that up with a frustrated flipping of the bird in their general direction. Autumn slid the racquet out of the way beneath the bottom rope and moved in on Sharpe's six.
Whatever other gifts she might have, at this early point in her career Anna's ring sense was still sorely lacking. She hissed and went to one knee as Autumn's foot lit up her kidney, bouncing right back up and spinning round, clutching at air. But Autumn was long gone.
“Over here, cunt.” No sooner had Sammain said it then she was elsewhere, diving at the Brit's knees to cut her down with a violent Chop Block made all the more devastating by the fact Anna hadn't seen it coming. Sharpe wailed and grabbed for the throbbing joint, rolling out onto the floor, where she was able to use the ring skirt to scrub her face at least partway clean of the muck from Autumn's mist. Unfortunately for Anna, restoring her sight only offered her a view of the incoming Dragon, Autumn having leapt feet first off the apron to fling Sharpe to the mat with a Headscissors Takedown.
“BitcOOOFFPPHHH.”
The Brit bounced and thumped into the metal rail, which wobbled but stayed upright, at least until Sammain's follow up Baseball Slide blasted Anna in the ribs, demolishing the barrier and leaving the Brit curled up and groaning at the feet of the first row of fans.
“No rules isn't working out so great for you, princess. Your crawl game is really picking up though,” Autumn teased, tugging her bottoms back into alignment. She'd been working with a wedgie ever since Anna dropped her on the racquet.
Sharpe was indeed making slow progress back toward the ring. The sight of her buttocks bunching up in her shorts as she struggled on all fours set Autumn's kicking foot tingling. The Dragon even took a moment to be playful, teasing the fans with an elaborate take-back before she booted the oblivious Brit in the ass.
“FUUUCCCKKK!” Sharpe grabbed for her backside, feeling like a truck had hit it, when she was tugged to her feet by the hair and flung shoulder first into the apron. Sammain followed her in and lit up her tits with an overhand slap that echoed like a snapped twig in the woods, and suddenly Anna was starting to hurt in too many places to keep track of. She tried to slide along the apron but the Joshi Phenom took her by the throat and leaned in close. The mesh pattern was fading from Sammain's face, although the hate was still bright.
“This is everything you wanted, Sharpe. The two of us out here in a straight up fight. Nothing to stop you beating the shit out of me like you told everyone a thousand times that you would. I gave you enough motivation. Your girl spent so long under my ass she could probably draw it from memory.” Autumn's thumb and fingers came together in a pincer movement around Anna's windpipe and the Brit coughed, her face turning red beneath the remnants of mist. “But you only thought you wanted it, didn't you bytch? Admit it, if you could wind things back to the moment you took that call, you'd leave Caity to suffer and run off back to coaching rich kids how to serve.”
Sharpe’s eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed in a fury as she finally understood the breadth and scope of Sammain’s disdain. But rather than hiss, curse or even fight to escape the stranglehold, the fuming Englishwoman buried one hand in her tormentor’s hair and the clamped the other around Autumn’s slender neck. Baring down with enough power to produce a supremely satisfying rasp in her opponent’s throat, Anna jerked Autumn in close and growled, “Shhhhut up and FIGHTEERRGGGHH!”
The Dragon obliged her in the form of a stiff Headbutt, the curve of her skull smashing into the bridge of her opponent’s nose.
Anna’s hooks loosened and Sammain started to shrug loose only to grunt in surprise and pain when the blonde doubled down and returned the Headbutt with interest!
Blinking away the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes, Autumn let loose of Sharpe’s throat and snatched a fistful of blonde locks, just above the hairline. A heartbeat later she pulled Sharpe forward and hit her with a second Headbutt. Anna’s knees went weak, she might’ve collapsed onto her butt if she hadn’t abandoned the choke and braced that hand against the apron. Breathing hard, Sammain yanked back on the Briton’s head so that Anna was forced to look up to meet her eyes.
“Give it up, Sharpe.” the Joshi Phenom huffed. “You think Mason will stay if I ruin you? I’ve already seen her making eyes at PandoNNNGGHHH!”
Anna couldn’t straighten up enough to answer with a Headbutt so she let loose of Autumn’s hair and turned her head nearly ninety degrees with a lip-bloodying Bytch Slap. “Luuuhhh… leave her out of this, you twat. This is between you and meEERRGGHHH!”
Autumn yanked the woozy blonde powerhouse to full verticality, drew her close and unleashed with a brutal flurry of Headbutts that forced Sharpe to backpedal with each new collision. No even exchange this, Anna did all the suffering, as one arm hooked the bottom rope while the other pushed fitfully against Sammain’s chest, shoulder, tummy or hip. The former kept her upright, the latter did absolutely nothing to dim the other woman’s fury. Indeed the skull on skull bludgeoning did not abate until Sharpe’s back and buttocks were pressed against the solid steel of the ring-post.
Flipping hair off her face, Autumn rest her forehead against Anna’s and took several deep breaths before she whispered, “I could spill your blood all over the floor, Sharpe. But I won’t. Not because I respect you as a fighter, I just don’t want to ruin a Face Sit with your ggggrrrrrhhhhhhh!”
Beaten into a near stupor by the Headbutts, Sharpe somehow raised a hand and applied it to the brunette’s left breast. The claw quickly narrowed in focus, Anna focusing on Autumn’s nipple with a brutal pincer that made her breath hitch and catch. “This… belongs… to me.” Sharpe whispered. “I’m going to stuff the mic in your face and make you bloody ADMIT IT when the match is ovAWWWWWW GAAAAHHHHD!”
Autumn slipped her dangerous fingers under Anna’s top like it wasn’t even there and doubled down on her nemesis’s hateful titty twister. Unable to maintain her own grip on Sammain’s bud, Sharpe grabbed the Dragon’s wrists and held on as tight as she could. “Leggo of me you bytch.” Anna hated the moan in her voice, but she could do nothing to quash it. “This isn’t wrestlinNNGGGGHH!”
Autumn pulled her prey away from the post, then drove her back into it, BWONKING Sharpe’s skull against the steel.
“You’re right, Anna. This isn’t wrestling. This is FAWN. And it’s time I gave you a proper welcome.” Breaking her clamp to spin the Briton around, the Gaijin Extraordinaire curled her left arm around Anna’s neck and pulled her close with a half-Sleeper. It would’ve been a full Sleeper, if Sammain hadn’t flattened her right hand into a paddle and slid it down the front of Anna’s waistband! Slipping three fingers into the gasping battler, Autumn set to work forcing a very specific kind of submission from her opponent, the efficacy of her efforts noted in the rhythmic ripples and bulges of that sweat-soaked black lycra.
“You...ungghh….you don't know what your doing down there, bitch.” But the quiver in Anna's voice gave the lie to that claim. The movement of her hips, too. Desperate to rid herself of Sammain's invading fingers the Brit backed up and squashed her against the ring post. Autumn grunted, then cursed as Sharpe's heavy boot came down on her foot. Trying her best to shut out the barrage of shouts from the crowd, the violated blonde drove herself backward over and over, hoping to make a Joshi escalope of Sammain's bony torso. Once Autumn was properly tenderized Anna grabbed the Dragon's wrist and pulled the questing digits from her bottoms with a snap of elastic and a gasp of pure relief. Having flung aside Sammain's arm, she stumbled away from her foe on legs that were more unsteady than she cared to admit.
“You want to take a minute, princess? You're looking a bit distracted.” Autumn pushed off from the ring post with a weary smile, then went wide-eyed in a hurry as the Brit charged at her with an energy level the Dragon hadn't expected, given the treatment she'd just dished out. Growling in fury, Anna got down low and tackled Autumn back where she came, into a spine-jarring collision with the steel post.
“I never need a minute, Sammain. And if you ever try something like that again I'll break every one of your fingers.” Breathing deep as Autumn melted into a slumping crouch in her arms, Anna stepped back and led the Dragon by the hair around the corner of the ring, away from those fans who had seen her so lewdly assaulted. She planted her feet and hurled Autumn against the hard edge of the ring, chasing the brunette in, so that when Sammain arched her back at the impact the Brit was there with a SMASHING Forearm across her foe's thrusting chest.
The clubbing shot got a gasp from the crowd at the rail. Autumn turned away hugging her goods and Anna butted her between the shoulders, earning a hissed “Bytch” for the effort.
“Damn right I am,” Sharpe muttered, before proving it by rolling up Sammain's sports bra, baring a good percentage of her perky boobs. After a quick groping squeeze confirmed the belief that the Dragon was working with nothing special, Anna went lower. First she turned Autumn round till they were face to face, then she flipped up that pesky skirt and worked her hands through the legholes of Sammain's bottoms, so that when she embraced the brunette in a Bearhug it was augmented by a particularly vicious wedgie.
“AAHHHHH YOU F*CKING WHORE!” Autumn wailed, pulling savagely on the hair at the back of Anna's head, the Brit having shrewdly burrowed in close to keep her features clear of Sammain's reprisals. In truth the hug wasn't Sharpe's best – the wedgie made the grip too awkward for that – but it was worth sacrificing a little effectiveness to add to Autumn's humiliation.
“Think of them watching back in that shytshack you grew up in,” Anna said, hot breath barely parting Autumn's sweat soaked hair. “Wearing their cute little Dragon t-shirts, so proud of everything they taught you about how to wrestle, the dignity of the life you lead.”
“Shut the fucunngghhhh!” Autumn trailed off into a sob of anguish as Sharpe summoned the strength to lift her off her feet, the material of her bottoms stretching to its limits.
“No! You shut up and listen, bytch!" Anna's voice was mean, and full of so much spite it fair dripped from her lips. "Turn your ugly head until you find a camera, and then tell anyone you care about to switch off their TV's the minute I pin your bony arse. Because if you make them watch what I do next they'll be even more ashamed of you than they already are.”
Anna’s words registered, but only as a vaguely troubling notion, something to be dealt with later. At the moment her primary concern was the steel band around her ribs and the goddamned garrote sawing into her undercarriage. Forced to admit that a hair-pull wasn’t going to get it done against a hardcase like Sharpe, Autumn put both hands on the blonde’s shoulders and puuuuuuuushed as hard as she could. It didn’t free her from the Englishwoman’s coil but it slid the brunette up just high enough to brace her shins on the sturdy planks of Anna’s thighs.
Irritated by the gulp and press of Sammain’s midsection against her cheek, Sharpe pulled the hug a little tighter and jostled the wedgie a little harder. “Nowhere for you to go now, pussy. Just close your eyes and tell the ref you can’t take any mogguuuurrrrkkkkk!”
Sammain slid her left hand between Anna’s face and her torso, then pushed out, forcing her opponent’s head back at an awkward angle. Though her forearm was pressed against Sharpe’s throat, it wasn’t actual choke, or at least, strangulation wasn’t the Dragon’s intent. Rather she just needed to create some separation between herself and Sharpe to ’THUMP!’ Anna grunted and staggered back a step when Sammain blasted the point of her right elbow into her forehead. She shrugged it off, tried to bring her head back in, but Autumn’s forearm kept her exposed and vulnerable to another half dozen elbow strikes.
Anna had been punched in the head more than once during her pre-FAWN career and plenty more after she stepped through the ropes, but they landed all over. Forehead, cheek, chin, etc. Not so with the goddamned brunette. Her elbows landed in the same spot above her right eyebrow every single time. Every. F*cking. One. Helpless to defend against the assault with her arms devoted to the Bear Hug, Sharpe suddenly sucked pushed up on her toes and “OOOOFFFFFHHHH!”
Autumn threaded her legs around Sharpe’s waist and bore down with a crushing Bodyscissors. Her counterattacks had done nothing for the hateful, unwanted thong, indeed it seemed to be riding even higher after the last flurry of offense. Teeth bared against the anguish, the Joshi Phenom bellowed her war cry and redoubled her efforts, Autumn’s right arm little more than a blur as she caromed shot after shot off Sharpe’s sku--THERE!
Anna’s hands came undone and she backed away, the woozy Englishwoman stumbling awkwardly as she pulled her hands from Sammain’s distended bottoms. Knees almost buckling when her feet touched the mat, Autumn screamed through the pain and lunged forward just quick enough to catch Sharpe’s hair. A stiff Toe Kick to the gut doubled the blonde over, leaving her an easy mark for the Standing Headscissors Autumn applied. Nearly out of her mind with anger and embarrassment after everything she’d been through, the Dragon didn’t even bother with a traditional Waistlock, she simply grabbed a double fistful of Sharpe’s bottoms and repaid the wedgie with cheek-baring, eye watering interest.
After a few seconds of this oh so understandable payback, Autumn dipped her knees and used the makeshift handle to haul the blonde off her feet. Anna’s heels were *just* pointing toward the rafters when the Dragon dropped to her tush and THWHUNKED the crown of her foe’s skull into the floor with a Piledriver.
Sharpe bounced away and rolled onto one side, the dazed powerhouse dividing her hands between her aching skull and her scandalously distended shorts.
Autumn fared little better, she’d collapsed onto her back in an exhausted starfish as soon as Anna’s skull made contact with the floor. Eyes closed, she mustered enough energy to fix her top, but that damned wedgie was just too much work, it’d have to wait until she was perched on Sharpe’s blubbering face.
There hadn't been a single pin attempt in the entirety of the match, Sammain realized, the thought pushing into her blurry mind all of a sudden as she staggered back to verticality. Granted they'd been out on the floor for a good chunk of it, but still…. “I guess we both wanted to take our sweet time. Isn't that right Sharpe?”
Anna had lifted her head at the sound of her name, so Autumn took the opportunity to drive her heel into the Brit's skull, flattening her back to the floor. Twin handfuls of hair and shorts rolled Anna under the ropes and Autumn followed her in and captured her nearest leg, which was kicking softly against the canvas.
The Dragon pushed her sweaty hair off her face and took control of the other leg, spreading Sharpe's limbs into a wide and vulnerable 'V'. The crowd went crazy at the setup for the Sharpshooter, and that had absolutely been Autumn's plan, what with the irony involved in the name, but holding the Brit so defenseless had her considering switching to something more brutal.
“Do it then, Sammain, you hypocritical piece of shyt,” Anna croaked, looking up to the sight of Autumn's foot hovering over her crotch.
The Dragon didn't answer at once. Instead she pursed her lips, planted her foot and folded Anna's muscular legs into an 'X'. Scrabble-wise an improvement on the 'V', but not much else about it was good for Sharpe, as Autumn slowly turned her onto her belly then straddled the Brit's back and sank into a deep, deep crouch with Anna's legs tucked in her pits.
“Bet you promised Caity you'd win this for her.” Autumn's interrogation came over the sound of Anna's screams. The brunette's voice trembled from the strain of forming yet another letter, this time a 'C' out of Anna's spine. “All kinds of promises. Staring into her eyes while you told here all the awful things you'd do to me. Promises you swore you wouldn't break.” Anna was crawling, inching her way pointlessly toward the ropes, a glistening trail of sweat marking the canvas behind her. Autumn let her make it a few feet, then dragged her back to the center of the ring and bore down harder. “The problem with that is, I promised Mason a few things too. By then she was asleep under my ass so she didn't hear them, but I keep my promises, Sharpe.”
“Caity, baby I'm sorry,” Anna panted, looking out wildly into the rows of fans. She'd bitten into her forearm so hard it had started to bleed.
Autumn tossed her aching head back to clear the hair from her eyes. Then she made good on her promise. Sweat popped on her forehead. She gritted her teeth as her ravaged backside bounced against the Brit's clammy back. “GIVE UP SHARPE! GIVE BYTCH!”
“AAAHHHHHHH! AAAGGHHHH! I QUIT I QUIT! STOP! STOP SAMMAIN STOP!” Anna's flailing hand slapped her final surrender.
Sammain nodded at the blonde’s capitulation, but she didn’t actually release the hold until the bell CLANGED and the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by submission… AUTUMN SAMMAIN! The five minute penalty will begin in thirty seconds!”
The crowd immediately started counting down so Autumn tossed Anna’s legs aside, stood up and let the official raise her hand. “A mic, please.” she told him after a moment. “Do you want me to delay the penalty period?” Sammain shook her head ‘no’. “This is part of the penalty. And I don’t need five minutes to make my point.”
Thus satisfied, the zebra strode to the edge of the ring and took the stick from the Announcer just as a countdown appeared on the FAWN’fron.
4:59
Accepting the mic immediately thereafter, the Joshi Phenom raised it to her lips and addressed the prone blonde. “Stand up, Sharpe. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
Sickened in a way she’d never felt after a loss on the court, Anna grimaced, clambered to one knee and then pushed to her feet.
“These people want to see me grind your face.” Autumn paused as the crowd roared agreement. “And they very well might, that all depends on you.”
Sharpe’s eyes narrowed as she raised her head to meet the brunette’s gaze. “What’s your game, Sammain?”
“You lost the game, Sharpe. This is something else. This is a choice.” The Dragon stepped closer, making sure there was no way the Englishwoman could or would look away from her. Seeing she had the blonde’s undivided attention, Autumn went on. “Option one, turn around, walk up that ramp and take your beaten ass on out of my arena, never to return. I figure that comes natural, considering it’s what you’ve done EVERY SINGLE TIME you’ve tasted defeat in the past. Oh, you’ll go one some podcast the next week and bytch about how the official was biased, the crowd was partisan or your opponent somehow cheated in a way that only you noticed, whatever the reason, you’ll find a reason why tapping out wasn’t your fault. Does that sound familiar, Anna? Does it sound like sound like something you’d do?”
Sharpe clenched her teeth and curled both hands into fists, her well-manicured nails biting into the soft skin of her palms. “What’s option two?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Stay in this ring, take the four plus minutes of punishment you’ve got coming and then clean yourself up so you can walk down the ramp tomorrow night. And the night after that. And the night after that. And every night after until you’ve finally earned your spot. So what’s it going to be, Anna Sharpe. You’re already a failed wrestler. Are you going to wake up tomorrow as a failed wrest--”
The strong blonde snatched the mic from Sammain’s hand, earning an interested ‘oooooooohhhhhhh’ from the fans. Without wasting another second (she wouldn’t have Autumn or her fans claiming she’d tried to run down the clock) Anna spat, “Do your worst you miserable scarecrow of a NNGGHH!”
Choice made, Autumn spun around on the spot and flicked out her left hand to TWHAP Sharpe’s jaw with a Uraken. Sharpe stumbled, dropped the microphone would’ve backed off if the brunette hadn’t claimed her wrist. Creating some distance with two giant steps, Sammain dropped into a deep crouch and slung Anna toward the strands for an Irish-- Autumn slammed the brakes, yanked Sharpe back the way she’d came and THWHUMPED a Kneelift into her belly. Anna doubled over and Autumn let her, the latter sinking to one knee while the former crumpled over the posted joint.
Looping her right arm over the small of Anna’s back, the Gaijin Extraordinaire looked at the clock and was pleased to see she still had 3:37 remaining. The glint in her eyes only intensified when she hooked her fingers into the Englishwoman’s waistband and pulled up and out at a near perfect forty-five degree angle. Anna gaped, then snapped her mouth shut, determined not to make a noise even as Sammain worked the hateful lycra like she meant to saw the blonde in half. Willfully ignoring the fact that these idiots were taking pictures of her practically bare backside, Sharpe let out a slow breath and sneered, “That the best you’ve got, twat? I’m disappointNNNNGGHHH!”
Autumn switched possession of the wedgie to her other hand, flattened the free hand into a slightly cupped paddle and laid a pink welt on strong curve of Sharpe’s glutes. “Had enough?” the brunette asked.
Anna swallowed a lump in her throat. “Of what?”
Sammain spanked her again, a set of six, three for each cheek. When she was done she tugged Sharpe’s involuntary thong back and forth. “Had enough?” Autumn’s tone hadn’t changed.
The battered Briton answered in the negative. “Not even a little. You’re a great warm-up for MasEEEERRRGGGGHHH!”
The painful paddling resumed, this time with a series of ten alternating blows. Sharpe held her silence throughout, but the wince on her face when Autumn traced a bright pink welt with one sharp-tipped finger told the crowd all they needed to know. “Remember how you laughed at McKenzie and Sellers when you spanked them until they cried?” Autumn asked. “I hope they’re enjoying this.”
Anger flashed across the blonde’s face. “You’re NEVER getting my tears, SammOOWWWWWW FAAAAAAAAAAAHHK!”
Autumn yanked on the wedgie so hard Anna’s tummy came off the brunette’s knee, which only meant her tush was that much closer to her tormentor’s smackin’ hand! No break in the shelling for this third set, Autumn simply kept the pace steady as Sharpe’s poor bum went from bright pink to deep red.
Absolutely certain this humiliation was almost over, Anna looked toward the stage and couldn’t stifle a moan when she saw 2:12. “Stop. Stop!” she called over the rhythmic sound of palm on glute. “Goddammit you bytch, stop spanking me!”
The demand was barely out of Anna’s mouth when Sammain grabbed her at hip and shoulder and dumped her onto her back! Hissing the instant her scalded buttocks touched the canvas, Anna tried to sit up but Autumn grabbed her shoulders and forced her down flat. “No!” Sharpe shook her head frantically, as if it could somehow stop Sammain from sliding into position directly above. “Don’t do it, bytch.” Anna growled. “You’ve proved your point, keep your ass off my MMMMMPPPPPPGGGGHHHHHHHH!”
Autumn pushed into a crouch, then spread her legs and slid forward into a perfect split that saw her backside envelope the Englishwoman’s features from forehead to chin. Pinned beneath cheeks that didn’t seem nearly as insubstantial as they had from a distance, Anna reached for the brunette’s waist, then squealed in pain when Sammain gripped her crotch in a white-knuckled claw! “Hands on the mat, Anna.” Autumn commanded. “Or I go under your waistband again.”
Galled at the thought of that sort of surrender in front of a packed house, Sharpe moaned and dropped her knuckles to the mat. Sammain squeezed her prey’s undercarriage a final time, before putting her hands on Anna’s gulping tummy. The next ninety seconds passed in a single gasp and grind for Autumn, whereas to Anna it seemed she spent an eternity mewling into the other woman’s togs.
Climax arrived with 00:10 left on the clock and it hit Anna like a knockout punch, the strong blonde finally swept away to darkness on a tide of cheers and one satisfied sigh. Remaining seated after the bell sounded for the last time, Autumn ran a hand through her hair and made a few minor adjustments to her skirt before standing on rubbery legs.
Motionless until she was steady enough to walk, Autumn started toward the ropes, paused and looked over her shoulder. In the end she remained silent. The Dragon had said all she needed to say. Whether or not Anna had listened… the world would find out soon enough.