Post by bigfan on May 7, 2017 1:29:11 GMT
The Vegas Strip was familiar territory for Caity Mason. Two years at USC had seen her make the trek into the desert most weekends. Face slapping contests, tit slapping contests, wedgie wars, belly punching. Caity thought she'd participated in all that the city had to offer.
Until.
“Hair bowling,” she read, looking down the list of Competitive Experiences euphemistically offered by her hotel. A phone call and a few hours later, she was in her underwear in a penthouse suite, her eyes flicking from a set of painted wooden pins to the other woman in the room. A redhead, and consequently cadaver pale. Caity yearned to leave her handprint on that flat belly. Alas, such frippery was not allowed.
They smoothed their glossy manes before taking firm, two-handed grips of one another. Thankfully, given how closely they’d be quartered, the redhead's breath was minty fresh. Caity flashed her a quick smile of appreciation for that before the buzzer sounded for go time.
They started to tug and pull and yank on their opponents long locks, each quickly forced into a hunched crouch as they shuffled across the thick carpet. They gasped and cursed, heads jerked to one side or the other but essentially stalemated until, with a sudden grunt, the redhead ripped Caity off her feet.
She rolled heavily across the carpet, though fortunately in the opposite direction to the pins. A gutter ball.
“Shit!” She examined a fresh burn on her thigh before getting back up. The redhead brushed a few strands of Caity’s hair from her fingers and they shared a look that seemed to say, What the hell are we doing?
****
On a lush green lawn a few properties over, Libby James ground her forearm across a Russian woman’s eyes and was rewarded with a hiss, courtesy of the stinging mix of sweat and sunscreen. In response the Eurotrash blonde yanked harder on Libby’s neon-green bottoms, twisting them round her fist. The wedgie burned, hurt, but the fight was almost done now, and Lib let the woman have her grip.
Slowly, Libby rotated her body ‘round the Russian’s head, like the hand of a clock, until they were inverted, and her belly was over the other blonde’s face. She wriggled her hands in under the Russian’s back to establish the hug, the heat of the woman’s torso a contrast to the cool of the sprinkler-damp grass.
She squeezed.
The Russian had great legs. Long and tanned; she could have hurt Libby with them if she better knew how to fight. Her calves hardened as she bridged up, hips high, grunting with effort, but Lib rode her down, squeezed again.
It broke her. Her panting breaths turned to sobs. She let go the wedgie and slapped at Libby’s back. “Stop. Stop. Fuck you, stop.”
That fuck you pissed Lib off. She sat back on her heels and roughly tugged the other blonde’s top off her chest, balled it inside her fist. She stood up. “You want it? Ask management to give you a price. Blyat.”
The Russian rolled onto her belly and pushed up to all fours, heavy tits hanging underneath her. Libby recognized her expression; she was already rationalizing the loss. Most likely they’d fight again within a week, only this time cheaper and meaner, with more money on the line.
Good, Lib thought.
She put some extra swivel into her hips as she walked away, waiting till she was out of sight to pull her bottoms back into place; she wanted the other blonde’s eyes on her butt.
****
“Hey girl, good fight. Bleached blonde Barbie looks like a real cow.”
In the parlance of the Vegas hotel fighters a cow was derogatory in a different sense, meaning a woman who could be beaten multiple times, milked for cash. Caity had learned the terminology back in her college days, from a sullen faced Czech who pulled hair like she'd been told it would earn her a green card.
“You saw?” Libby was occupied with fastening a robe round her sweat-shiny chassis. “Right now she's paying my airfare to Cabo. If we go another round tomorrow I'm flying first class.”
They got the usual array of stares as they passed through the pool area. Caity noticed that Lib put on a limp, and walked with her shoulders slumped, as if the fight had exhausted her, maybe even hurt her.
“You sneaky bitch.” Once they were inside and out of sight Caity slapped her ass and grinned. “I saw your little act.”
“That redhead by the bar looked like she wanted a piece. You know how it is Cait, make them think there's blood in the water. I mean, that's how I got you, right?”
Caity blushed at the memory. Half crazy from sunstroke, slapping pathetically at Libby's shoulders while the blonde heaved her off her feet and shook her like a ragdoll – she'd been out of her depth from the start against those brawny Aussie curves. But James had been right, Caity had heard in the bar the previous night that Libby was still hurting from a previous brawl. “Beat up so bad she can't lift her arms to dress herself,” had been the talk. Talk that had cost Caity her shiny red Mustang.
“I just threw the redhead by the bar into a set of bowling pins by her hair. That’s why she was staring.” Caity found a long auburn strand on her sleeve and held it pinched between her fingers. “Don’t laugh, bitch. I’ll take a win wherever I can get it right now.”
“Did you really get shot down by a nymphomaniac?” They’d reached Libby’s suite. She poured them both drinks and sat down, her robe falling open.
“You’re watching FAWN then?” Caity said, evading the question with a wave of her hand. “You know, you’d make more money there than you do here, I bet. You wouldn’t have to fight as often, either. I know the act isn’t always an act, Lib.”
Libby rubbed absently at an old bruise on her belly. “Who's to say they’d want me?”
That only made Caity snort. “False modesty is the number one sign of an asshole. They’d sign you up in a second. And besides, I’d put up the money the same way I did for Anna. C'mon Lib, do you really wanna spend the next five years hustling bored trophy wives for their husbands' blackjack money?”
Libby James refastened her robe and blew a loose lock of hair out of her vision. “I'll think about it,” she said. “You never know, maybe me and Anna can finally have that arm wrestle she was always pretending she wanted.”
****
Back in Orlando, Caity drove straight from the airport to a local gym. Since Sharpe’s match with Camille and the accompanying barrage of comparisons between the two pairings, the Cali Catfighter’s thoughts had been a whirl. She was ready for the simple pleasure of watching Anna work out.
Surprised to hear voices, Caity froze in the doorway, her greeting unspoken at the sight of Eve Choldstone and Calliope getting their sweat on alongside the newly minted Rookie of the Year.
“Hey baby.” Sharpe sat up on the stationary bike, lifted her feet out the pedals. “I didn’t think you’d be back for hours.” She leant back into Caity’s embrace, sighing with contentment.
“I switched to an earlier flight. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here.”
“Billie Jean likes hanging out with Evie and me,” Calliope said. The Queen of Outré Space was wearing a paint factory explosion’s of workout gear, Choldstone in dour gray. “And we live to serve.”
Both Eve and Anna cracked a smile at the tennis-related pun. Sharpe hopped off the bike and slightly awkwardly made the introductions. “Baby, you know Calliope and Eve, right? We’ve seen each other around at the gym a few times – you’ll like Cali, she’s fun.” This last bit said more in hope than expectation, Anna having already seen the expression on Caity's face.
“I know them. Eve’s the super scary monster who can’t stand the dark, or something. The other one isn’t even a real person, just a front for that supposed badass who can’t cope with real life.” Caity pulled her girl close, whispering, “I spent the whole flight back thinking about your butt. Can’t we tell them to fuck off?”
“Starfire. Sammain. Park. All knocked you out, am I right Sweet Cheeks? I’d keep her away from Asia when your planning the next vacation, Sharpe.” Eve's voice was dry, mocking.
She started to turn back to her weights when Caity grabbed her by the shoulder, span her round. “Sammain isn’t Asian, bitch. Now why don’t you clear out, before I turn out the lights and you start hyperventilating.”
“Hey! Leave Evie alone. Sh-” CRACCKKK! Caity backhanded Calliope across the cheek and stood there, chest heaving, as the Monster of the Midway touched her coloring skin.
Anna started to apologize when CRACCKKK! Calliope slapped Caity right back, turning the Best Coaster’s head in a blur of dark hair. “Does that feel real to you, Kitty?”
CRACK!!! Mason shifted her target to the swell of Calliope’s cleavage, sweat-dappled from the workout.
CRACK!!
CRACK!!
CRACK!!
The flurried exchange left them each with handprints blooming on their tits before Anna and Eve could separate them, bundle them away, each still snarling threats.
Out in the corridor, Anna finally let Caity go. Mason was breathing hard. She tugged the waistband of her bottoms back to alignment and smoothed out her hair. “Sick of getting treated like I can’t fight for shit. It’s not like I ever claimed I’m some sort of superstar, but I know how to hurt a bitch.” Slowly regaining her equilibrium, the Best Coaster pulled Anna in close. “You won't be able to do all the stuff I know you can if you're worrying about me all time."
********
Fortunately for those people in Marketing tasked with promoting their match, Caity and Calliope's abrupt confrontation in the gym was caught by a security camera. The footage had been quickly edited, packaged up, and so, primed by video of the two of them trying to raise welts on each other's tits, the crowd buzzed with anticipation of more as the Announcer made the introductions.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, from Calabasas, California, she weighs one hundred and twenty four pounds and stands five feet seven inches tall. She is the Evolutionary Miracle, CAITY MASON!”
The Best Coaster had awarded herself a new title but stayed faithful to Britney for her entrance, only this time 'Piece of Me's invitation was directed squarely to her opponent rather than offered as a knowing nod to the fans.
CAITY MASON:
Striding past a camera operator, she held her fingers up to the lens. “Hey Akeley, take a look at these nails. You think they're sharp enough to tear your freak mask right off?” Then she was climbing through the ropes into the ring, her outfit for the night an atypically plain white top and bottom.
As Mason stewed and occasionally snapped at some troglodyte trying to ogle her butt, the Announcer pocketed his notes and went on. “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Greentown Illinois, she stands at five feet six inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty-nine pounds. She is the One Woman Freakshow, the Monster of the Midway, this is CALLIOPE!”
A chorus of ’ONE OF US!’ echoed through the arena as the strumming guitars and near nonsense lyrics of At the Drive In’s ’One Armed Scissor’ hit the speakers. Eager for any reason to get up and roar, the sold out crowd leapt to its collective feet when the lights went into a kaleidoscopic whirl of every color imaginable. Shortly thereafter the Queen of Outré Space swept the curtain aside and dashed straight into that chromatic insanity with a smile on her face and a song in her heart. Skidding to a stop a short distance a little ways down the ramp, Calliope spread her arms wide and called, “HIDEY HO, NEIGHBORINO’S! DON’T MIND ME, I GOTTA WHUPPIN’ ON ANNIE’S KITTY CADDY!” She paused, thought it over. “Caddy Kitty? Hmmmmmhhhh…. EITHER WAY, IT’S WEDGIE TIME!”
CALLIOPE:
The Spring Break throng thought that sound just fine so Cali headed down the aisle secure in the knowledge that the fun was just getting started. For her match tonight she wore fluorescent orange sequined bikini bottoms and a zappy blue halter top. Her boots were a spit-polished black, her pads were dark red and the smiley face on the back of her trunks was a screaming zonky yellow. Reaching the foot of the ramp in no time at all, Calliope hurried up the steps, bounded over the ropes and quickly swept the official in a best of three Paper, Rock, Scissors. Once that was settled she allowed him to check her pads and boots, though she was clearly impatient to get on with the fun. Cleared of any potential foreign objects, Calliope dropped into a handstand and ‘walked’ backward to her corner, where she settled in to keep a bright, curious eye on the sneering brunette.
The bell sounded and Calliope was out of her corner in a trice, the One Woman Freak Show heading off to meet her opponent in a series of cartwheels, handsprings and back flips. This was hardly surprising to those assembled, they’d watched Cali long enough to know she couldn’t so much as slide through the ropes without turning it into a floor show. What was surprising however was Caity Mason’s equally prompt exit of the buckles. Almost a non-entity in the ring during Anna‘s march through the Rookie of the Year Tournament, the California Catfighter had recently remerged to tear through some local enhancement talents en route to a surprise victory over the Jungle’s Bailey Travis. Couple that with the backstage skirmish with the other woman in the ring and it seemed that FAWN was witnessing a whole new side of one Ms. Caity Mason.
Finishing her routine just as the other brunette closed in, Calliope flashed Caity a grin and a wave as she said, “Hey there, Kitty Cat! Feeling better tonight? You sure were in a rotten mood when I helped--”
Mason lashed out with an angry backhand slap that CRAAACKED the Frightener’s cheek hard enough to twist her head to the side. “I’m going to tell you this once, freak.” Caity sneered over the crowd’s jeering disapproval. “Stay the hell away from Anna. She’s here to win titles and kick ass, not pal around with twisted little misfit toys like you and--”
Mason shut up in a hurry when the Eclectic Eel spun around on her left heel, took to the skies and struck out with a kick that would’ve smashed her upside the head if she hadn’t jerked back at the last second. The evasion saved Mason’s noggin but it also threw her off balance and she tripped over her feet before dropping to her butt with a heavy ‘thump’. Above her, Calliope landed in a loose crouch and muttered, “No need to hiss, Kitty. Don’t forget, Billie Jean came to US asking for help. Probably wanted some friends that didn’t double as harpies“.
Caity scooted back a little ways and quickly got to her feet. “Anna’s never going to be friends with a certifiable piece of shyt like you.” the catty brunette lovely sneered. “I’m the only woman in that locker room worth her time.”
The mirth in Calliope’s eyes faded and for a moment Mason found herself staring down Candice Akeley. “Oh yeah, you’re a REAL asset around here, punk. That’s why Sharpe’s the Rookie of the Year and you got bounced in the first round. Tell me, is the sex just that good or does Anna have a soft spot for defenseless strays?”
Caity went pale with rage, unable to believe this mismatched cunt would dare speak to her this way. “What the f*ck did you just say to me, freak?”
Candice blinked and Calliope was back. “I said you sure talk a lot for a girl who wants to fight!”
Mason readied a response of the four letter variety only to find herself rocked back on her heels when the eccentric weirdo stormed forward and caught her in a Collar & Elbow Lock-Up. Though Caity was a little taller and a little heavier, Calliope had momentum on her side and she marched her foe back to the buckles in short order. In fact Mason’s butt was less than six inches from the corner when she snatched a double handful of Calliope’s green-tinted tresses and twisted in a half circle. Yelping as the catfighter tried to peel her scalp loose, Calliope’s situation grew that much worse when Mason slammed her into the corner and wedged herself in chest to chest.
Halving her hair-hold so she could simultaneously palm, rake and squeeze her opponent’s face, Caity barked, “I hope the voices in your head are all present and accounted for tonight, f*ckface. Because you’re going to need every one of them when I’m making you beg for mercy!” With that she wedged her hands between opposing torsos, clamped down on Calliope’s breasts and proceeded to squeeze until the freak was stamping her feet and the official was yammering for her to break the hold.
But Cali needed no encouragement to operate outside the supposed boundaries of a contest, and when the warnings from on high didn’t free her rack, she took matters into her own capable hands. Not just matters either, as her fingers journeyed south, clamping hold of Caity’s crotch through the thin material of the brunette’s bottoms.
“Fuck!” The Hulk-haired headcase had quite a grip, and Caity was quickly reduced to trying to pry herself free, digging her fingernails into Calliope’s wrist while at the same time being walked backwards out into the center of the ring.
“Spaying nasty kitty’s is a hell of a job, but someone has to do it,” Calliope announced to the arena, following up with an especially cruel twist of her hand. Caity groaned, and when she opened her eyes the Monster of the Midway was staring right into them. “Don’t you think I’m good at my job, Kitty Cat?”
Before the suffering Best Coaster could gasp out an answer, Cali had sent her on a ride into the ropes, to be greeted on her return by an outstretched right arm. Heart racing, crowd noise a din in her ears, Caity lowered her head and showed she was no forlorn hope by not just avoiding the Clothesline but turning on a dime and CRACKING her hand down across Calliope’s exposed back. Then, while the freak was cringing from the slap, Mason really gave her something to cry about, pulling Cali down by the shoulders while at the same time jumping up and tucking her legs in, the result a crisp Lungblower that was by some distance the most technical thing she had thus far pulled off inside a ring.
“Holy shit I’m good. It isn’t fair, right?” she shouted, before sitting her fine ass down on the slope of Calliope’s hurting back. The Queen of Outré Space grunted. Caity rapped her knuckles against Cali’s skull a few times, as if asking for admittance. “Hey! You wanna give the psycho an airing? That’s how you survive in this place, isn’t it? You hope everyone’s too scared of her to bother with shitty little you.” The suddenly ascendant catfighter took a handful of green hair from either side of Cali’s head and pulled hard enough to lift her upper body off the mat. “Well bring her on, let’s make this thing a handicap match. One of you can get a faceful of my tits and the other one go to sleep under my ass.” Unable to tell from the tone of the wailing whether it was indeed Calliope or Candice she was torturing, the Best Coaster kept up the tugging until the official’s protestations became too insistent.
“That’s it, I’m starting a count,” he said, stern as could be.
“Don’t bother. That greasy mop is no good for my skin.” Switching to a grip of her foe’s chin, Caity slid sidewards and rolled to her back on the canvas, pulling Cali’s head between her thighs. The Headscissors in place, Mason got to squeezing, her thighs turning hard against the struggling woman's cheeks. “Don’t worry about no-one being able to see your face, freak. As soon as I walked out here every single person in this place forgot you existed. Pretty sure I saw Eve checking out my ass.”
Cali’s answer was to crook her fingers into hooks and gouge ‘em deep into the meat of those encroaching thighs. Mason growled, squeezed the Headscissors a little harder and boosted her butt off the canvas to get that much more leverage. “Don’t be jealous, bytch.” Caity jostled her heels up n’ down, driving them into the other brunette’s crotch as payback for the clawing she’d endured earlier. “You’ll get to check out my ass too. Not to mention my tits and every other place I could stuff into your facEEERRRGHHH F*CK!”
Calliope’s clawing managed to loosen Mason’s grip just enough to twist her head to one side, which in turn let the Frightener sink her teeth into Caity’s right thigh!
Grimacing as her bum ‘thumped’ to the mat, Caity glared at the official and barked, “What, no warning for Girl Interrupted? Fine, I’ll deal with it myself!” Cupping one hand under Cali’s chin, Mason held her attacker’s head as steady as she could, all the better to CLAP the exposed half of her face with no less than a dozen ringing slaps! The chewing ended around the halfway mark, but Mason didn’t halt her countermeasures until she twisted Calliope’s face back toward the lights and hooked four fingers over her upper jaw.
“Bite me now, cunt!” the Best Coaster demanded as she tried to turn her prey into the world’s largest, oddest looking Pez Dispenser. “Go on, try to do something before I rip your fugly little face right WHOOOAAAHHHH!”
Calliope grabbed her opponent’s wrists, however she didn’t try to end the facial reconstruction. Instead she clamped down hard, planted her feet against the mat and twisted to the left. Caught unawares by this tactic, Mason was rolled onto her stomach and forced to relinquish her claws, as she didn’t want them pinned between the weirdo and the mat. Relegated to a simple squeeze once more, the hardbody brunette pressed her palms to the mat and grrrrrrround her thighs against Calliope’s ears. “Good job, freak. Now I don’t even have to look at you while I’m sanding your face offFEERRRROOOOOWWWW!”
Granted fresh angles of attack thanks to their new arrangement, the Monster of the Midway reached up, snagged a double handful of the catfighter’s white briefs and made them vanish between those flawless glutes in a hateful wedgie. “YOU BYTCH!” Mason’s voice sounded thick with anger and pain as the lycra sawed into her undercarriage. No stranger to that sort of attack, Caity held on for almost ten seconds before her legs gave way and Cali’s head came loose with an audible pop!
Rearing back on her haunches the instant she was free, Calliope planted one hand against the small of Mason’s back and made those haughty glutes pay with a barrage of slaps that had Caity and the FAWNatics howling for very different reasons. Ending the spanking only when her own palm began to tingle, the Queen of Outré Space scampered forward into a seat in the hollow of Caity’s back and bounced her butt a few times for good measure. “You talk a real nasty game, Kitty. I’m surprised Billie Jean didn’t have you de-clawed when she realized you couldn’t defend yourself.” Cali chided as she grabbed hold of Mason’s biceps and pulled them up and back, all the better to hook them over her thighs. “But seeing as how you all you wanna do is play mean and nasty…” Calliope grabbed Caity’s hair, wrenched her head back and leaned in so close her lips were brushing the Californian’s right ear. The voice that whispered to her belonged to Candice Akeley. “Then I am more than happy to indulge you.”
“You don’t scare me, f*cker.” Caity sneered, “Show me what you’ve got so I can give it back ten times worSE OH F*CK YOU!”
The rest of Mason’s roar was cut off by the capacity crowd, who couldn’t help but cheer as the Frightener relieved Caity of her top. Tossing the garment away without a second look, Candice curled one hand over Caity’s chin and jerked her head back to make sure the hard camera had a perfect view of her face. Her other hand went to the catfighter’s right nipple and applied a truly savage pincer.
“Give it up, trash bag.” Akeley sneered. “You’re no match for Cali and you are sure as F*CK no match for me!”
Well aware that she was being posed, Caity was less certain of whether Candice’s methods would bring in the official, and the efficacy of Akeley’s grip was such that Mason had no interest in waiting around for an answer. Still, her freedom came inadvertently, as her wriggling and squirming put her foot on the bottom rope, beginning a count. The Frightener worked her foe’s nipple for the full allotment of seconds, and for Caity it was a question of which could be made to stretch further, time or tit. She was close to tears when Candice signed off with a last, vicious twist.
While Caity tried to massage her hurt away, her opponent’s upbeat whistling gave the Best Coaster a clue that Calliope was once more back in charge. But it was the tune she’d chosen that got Mason’s attention in a hurry “What the fuck was that, bitch?” she sniffed, looking up hatefully.
For answer Calliope sang the line she’d just whistled. “Billie Jean is not my lover.” She ran her fingers through her hair, her smile disconcertingly shrewd. “Don’t worry, Kitty. You won’t have to find someone else to stroke your fur.”
Furious at even the teasing suggestion she might feel threatened by the freak's friendship with Anna, Caity started to spit back an answer when Calliope leapt high, delivering a painfully accurate Elbow to Caity's spine. Mason thrashed like the bony joint had been electrified, whining as she was brought to her feet by a scalp-scraping grip on her dark mane. Gritting her teeth, she started to raise her hands when the Eclectic Eel LIT UP her chest with an overhand slap that wasn’t quite a Chop but was certainly close enough to get a reaction out of the crowd. Mason crossed her arms over her rack, an imitation of modesty that only allowed the Monster of the Midway to tag her cheek, and suddenly Caity was on the verge of getting overrun.
Backing up into the ropes, she changed momentum with a well-aimed poke in the eye, pre-empting any sanction from the official with an upraised palm. “Don’t waste your breath. The bitch ripped my top off, right? Take it, put it on eBay and have a week in Cabo with the money. But leave me and this toxic sack of shyt to sort things out our way, ok?” Not waiting for an answer, Mason snatched Calliope up in a side Headlock and broke into a run, before leaving her feet and driving Cali’s face into the mat with a Bulldog.
The impact left the green-topped Queen of Outré Space on her belly, one foot toeing the canvas in a sorrowful beat. The sight was irresistible to Caity, a catfighter to her bones, whose fingers curled into claws whenever she saw even the smallest acreage of rakeable skin. She licked her lips and marked her foe from ass crack to bra strap, eight burning lines that had Calliope shrieking. Mason rolled her to her back so the fresh scratches could pick up some of that ring grime that would really make them sting.
The hypnotic swing of her unfettered tits had Caity picking off some of Cali's less loyal supports even before the catfighter climbed aboard and spread the beleaguered Frightener's legs with a muscle-straining Grapevine. Calliope's arms were temporarily pinned above her head by Caity's twin grips on her wrists, but her rolling shoulders stopped the official from treating it as a pin attempt. “You lied to the talking zebra, Kitty,” she grunted, bridging up in an effort to shake loose. “I saw the thrift store burning your nasty old clothes. They were giving people a rash.”
The Best Coaster's curvy backside stuck up high and proud as she rode Cali back down flat. “Think you're different, don't you freak? But I've had my claws in plenty of women like you. Cute face, nice round ass, with the right bra you can even scrape together some cleavage. Growing up you must have had your pick. But then the stage got bigger, the lights got brighter, the competition was women like me. Bodies you thought only existed in comic books.” All through her speech Caity had been stretching Calliope down below with the Grapevine, now suddenly she untangled their legs and slithered up to a seat on the Eclectic Eel's pumping abs. Cali grunted at the butt on belly impact, but more importantly she sat up slightly, just enough for the catfighter to wrap up her head, pulling her into a sweltering, sweaty Breast Smother. “That's it, fight it, bitch,” Mason grunted, for Calliope was twisting her head in search of air, punching blindly at Caity's flanks. “You honestly think I'd be jealous of you, Akeley? I've seen a lot of different ways of dealing with inadequacy. Most skanks just get fat, some start taking in rescue cats. But I never saw anyone pathetic enough to disappear inside her own head because she couldn't face the world.” Satisfied at her own explanation for her foe's ruptured psyche, Mason sat upright and squeezed harder, searching for that familiar sucking gasp against her tits.
But it didn’t come. Oh, Caity could feel the wannabe psycho’s exhalations against her tits, there was no way she could simply stop breathing, but the panicked gurgle and gasp of a bytch drowning in jugg wasn’t there and Mason didn’t like it one bit. Cupping her elbows for extra leverage, the curvaceous catfighter pulled her prey in that much closer and worked her shoulders back n’ forth, not for the tit slaps that always got the crowd (be they billion dollar financiers or the PBR and Pall Mall’s set) cranked up, but to compress and then bend Calliope’s nose against her sternum.
Eyes lighting as she finally heard the green-haired freak moan in pain, Mason kissed the top of her head and cooed, “Go on and tap out before I break your nose, asshole. Think I won’t do it? Go ask Anna why I can’t go back to IbizZOOOOWWWWWW YOU CUNT!”
Understandably intent on putting the other woman to sleep, Mason hadn’t noticed Calliope’s hands, which had stopped working her ribs and quietly spidered between the gulping, smecking tummies. Caity only smartened to their presence when Cali’s right thumb gouged DEEP into her belly button. As for the left, a wedgie had already paid dividends once tonight, now it did so again, albeit from a different angle. Hooked onto as much lycra as she could manage, Candice didn’t just pull, she pulled and jerked, flossing the slick material back n’ forth as viciously as she could.
Blindsided by a tactic more commonly found at a Penthouse Bout in Vegas, Mason held onto the Front Sleeper for all of five seconds before she tossed Calliope’s head back and belted a Forearm Smash across her mouth. Even that wasn’t enough to stop the Monster’s band-saw impression, so Caity fashioned a quick talon and raaaaaaked Calliope across the eyes. Cali shrieked and scooted away on her butt, thus granting Mason the freedom to roll away and gingerly, ‘GINGERLY’ deal with her distended togs. Breathing a sigh of relief when everything was back where it belonged, the Best Coaster turned baleful eyes and a curled upper lip on the woman who’d dared to play the AHW game with her.
“Congratulations, you crazy bytch.” Mason’s usual coquettishness was gone, replaced by a hateful rasp. “You’re the first skank in this dump that’s gone and earned the full Caity Mason treatment.”
The smile that answered told her Candice Akeley was back behind the wheel. “You sure about that, bikini meat? Word around the locker room is that you offered Autumn all sorts of things before she finally put you under. Oh but wait, that was in a yoga studio so I guess you’re--”
“F*CKING WHORE!” Caity leapt at Candice with ten glittering nails aimed at her eyes, alas the Ruthless Realist dipped beneath Mason’s attack and swept behind her in a single effortless motion. Gifted with an opportunity to really get under the brunette’s skin, Akeley grabbed her foe’s waistband yet again, then shouldered her forward and reeled her back into a PWAAAKING right hand straight to her right cheek! Caity winced and stumbled forward so Candice followed along and looped her right arm around the Californian’s waist and braced her left hand against her target’s left knee. There was an ‘eep!’ from Mason followed by a roar from the crowd as Akeley muscled Caity onto her right shoulder for what looked like a Backdrop Suplex. But instead of laying out or even dropping to one knee, Candice swung toward the nearest set of ropes and started forward! Absolutely certain that the freak was about to toss her over the top rope to the floor, Mason flailed wildly, then breathed a sigh of relief when the pits of her knees ’twanged’ against the top-- THWHUMP! Candice didn’t throw her foe to the floor, she did however use the elastic nature of the ropes to bounce Caity up and swing her around, all the better to drop the catfighter flat on her unbelievably impressive backside.
GRAVITRON:
“Hmmmmmmhhhh, looks like you didn’t like the Gravitron all that much.” Calliope giggled after she’d dropped to a seat and threaded her legs around Mason’s waist. “Maybe you’ll like this ride better, it’s a gentler version.”
Preoccupied by the pain in her tailbone, Caity didn’t fathom Cali’s meaning until the Frightener wrenched her legs apart with a Grapevine and trapped her arms overhead in a Full Nelson. “You’re asking for it, freak show.” Mason growled, her chin deep in her own cleavage. “No one gets away with showing me off like--”
“No talking once the ride starts, kitty.” With that Calliope rolled back on her haunches which in turn pulled Caity into a lap. Barely aware of the cameras scoping her vaunted tush, Caity’s face was already pinched in anticipation of -- the Queen of Outré Space rolled forward and THAWHAMMED her rival’s glutes into the canvas with a cringe-inducing Keister Bounce!
Repeated applications of the Bounce had the effect of showing off both Cali's lithe strength and Caity's spectacular booty. After five such, Mason was tempest-tossed, butt aching, boobs rolling on her chest, spitting hair out of her mouth. She sighed with sweet relief as Calliope's legs finally unhooked from her own, only to whine as she was dragged to her feet still locked in the Nelson. “What's the matter, Akeley? Can't handle me face-to-face?” she snarled, willing herself to vanquish the submissive tone from her voice.
“Why do you keep asking for Candice? Surely you can't be that afraid of little old me?” Cali jerked Mason’s head violently side to side, like she could shake an answer from her humiliated prisoner. Giggling to herself, she gently blew the glossy hair away from Caity’s ear, allowing her to whisper in it, “You remember this move, don’t you?” before ripping the catfighter off her feet with a Dragon Suplex.
Caity’s sporadic efforts to learn more about the terminology of her new occupation hadn’t amounted to much, but she’d experienced this brand of hurt already, courtesy of the Dragon herself. The landing was different this time though, as the Monster of the Midway held Caity in a bridging pin that brought in the official for a count.
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOO!!
Hopelessly disoriented, the brunette barely escaped the cover, her bicycling legs overbalancing her just in time to keep the bell at bay. She slid across the mat on her ass, aiming for the nearest corner. Already back on her feet, Calliope brushed some green hair back from her face and watched the Best Coaster’s progress with her head on one side. Mason scrambled back to verticality and adjusted her bottoms, which had ridden down her backside during her journey across the mat.
“Sammain did it better, you Carny bitch,” she snapped. But if Cali was bothered by the comparison she didn’t show it. Instead the One Woman Freak Show put one finger in the air as if to get a read on the direction of the wind. Apparently satisfied by the result, she cartwheeled toward Mason’s corner. Wholly thrown off by the show of unorthodoxy, to the point where she didn’t know whether to brace for a foot or a fist, Caity simply stood there and took it as Calliope brought a wagon wheel’s worth of momentum into her Forearm Smash across the catfighter’s exposed chest. “AAAHHH. MOTHERF*CKER!” Caity turned sideward and hugged her battered goods, only to be pulled out of the corner by her hair.
“Mind your language. This is an establishment for ladies,” the Eclectic Eel scolded her foe, giving Mason’s head another good shake before holding her bent over and punishing her with a series of Kneelifts to that already suffering rack.
Caity crossed her arms in front of her chest for protection. Dragged stumbling round the ring at the whim of her opponent, she was at least glad that her trailing hair was keeping everyone from seeing the blush of humiliation in her cheeks. “Shouldn’t the crazy bytch be getting a warning for grabbing my hair?” she grumbled.
The ref did indeed hurry over to start a count on the infraction, not that it proved much comfort to Mason when the green-haired freak pushed her away and started to spin! Already off balance, Caity stumbled and tripped over her own feet before she finally grabbed hold of Calliope’s wrists with both hands. That provided just enough anchor to keep her upright, alas she was still caught in the spin cycle until the ref reached ‘FOUR!’ and Cali released her traumatized tresses.
Abruptly unmoored, the Best Coaster let out a shrill little yelp and thumped down on her butt not too far from the ropes. Caity pushed up on her elbows, scooted back and hooked one arm over the second strand while she pointed an accusing finger in Calliope’s direction. “What the HELL is wrong with you, asshole?” she barked at the official. “Are you just gonna stand there and let her maul NNNNNGGHHHH!”
Calliope darted around the ref, charged in and threw herself into a low, feet-first skid that ended with both heels THWHUMPING against the other brunette’s crotch! “Good God, do you sound petulant!” Candice spat as she rose to her full height. “Maybe that’s why Anna’s having so much fun hanging out with Cali and Eve. She likes being around someone who isn’t a self centered, no-talent shytheel.”
Arms draped over the middle strand, Caity looked up with undisguised hatred in her dark eyes. “Wuuuuuhhhhh… watch your mouth you crazy GUUHHHHRRRRRRK!”
Akeley grabbed the top rope in both hands, crooked one leg up and laid it across the catfighter’s throat. Then she pushed off her plant foot and leeeeeeeeaaaaaaned forward, putting all her weight on Mason’s windpipe. No preemptive warning this time, the ref started right in on the count, getting all the way to ‘FOUR!’ before the Monster of the Midway backed off. “Need to learn to keep that pretty little mouth shut, Caity Cat.” Candice cooed to the gasping battler. “Otherwise Anna’s gonna wake up and kick your coattail-riding ass to the curb.”
Caity didn’t answer, she was too busy sidling through the ropes to a relatively safe place on the apron. Holding the cables in a death grip (pro rules still didn’t make any sense to her, but she’d memorized them to take advantage of situations such as these) Mason clambered to her feet and flicked the hair out of her eyes. “You pull hair like a Hooters waitress and you choke like sorority pledge. You think I’m threatened by Sharpe hanging out at FAWN’s answer to the Goth table? Bytch, the only reason I haven’t put you in the hospital is because she’s taken an interest in you.”
“The only reason? THAT’S the only reason?” Akeley sneered. “Mason, the only reason you haven’t put me in the hospital is because you can’t. Face it, princess. You might be competent, even great, when all you have to do is twist a nipple or pull some hair, but here? Baby, Sammain EXPOSED you. You’re little more than Anna’s jiggly valet, no threat to anyone with more than six weeks of wrestling training.”
Caity’s face was eerily pale, indeed the only color to be found was in her cheeks and eyes, both of which burned with a hateful fever. “Step to my face and say that, cunt.” she whispered.
“Why, so you can try to pull my throat down across the top rope?” Candice chortled. “Pass. You want to shut me up, jiggles? You’re gonna have to come to--”
Mason slipped between the strands and raced at the green haired witch. Claws primed and ready for Akeley’s filthy locks, the Best Coaster dipped low at the last second and slammed her right shoulder into her antagonist’s midriff. It wasn’t really a proper Spear, but Caity did sweep Akeley’s legs and the rivals went down in a heap, all pretense of skill and technique lost in a snarling, cursing fury as they tried to rend, gnash and otherwise torment any soft, vulnerable surface that drew within reach.
Candice had more exposed skin to work on, and oh, how she worked, but Caity’s formative weekends in Vegas had taught her well when it came to making weapons out of another woman’s attire. An eye-watering, bum-baring wedgie never went out of style, and one such froze Akeley in a belly-down tableau of human suffering, head thrown back, mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Panting, Caity blew hair off her face and scowled at the damage the Pitiless Pragmatist had done to her exposed chest. As pissed off as she could remember, and still holding Candice’s bottoms twisted in her fingers like reins, she knee-walked to the nearest corner, forcing her foe to make the trip with her or risk more damage down below.
“See how you like my ‘jiggle’ when it’s up in your face, bitch,” Caity muttered. Grunting and huffing, she propped Candice up against the turnbuckle then half-rose to her feet and SMASHED her knee against Akeley’s forehead. Candice's eyes crossed, her arms suddenly hanging limp. The brutal impact left the way clear for Mason to take a turn and show off her own version of the Stinkface. Putting her hips on paint-mixer setting, she gave the flailing Frightener a scouring that brought her back to the present in a hurry, her heels pounding the mat for succor. “Hey Harker, watch and learn. This is how the best ass in FAWN does it,” Caity yelled, signing off with a scandalous final grind then stepping out before the ref could interfere.
“Yuck! Bad Kitty!” Calliope groaned, wiping her face hard to rid it of the catfighter’s sweat. Mason grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out into the center while Cali tried to rearrange her bottoms.
“Thought so,” Caity nodded to herself at the freak’s re-emergence. “Akeley leaves you to take the rough stuff, I bet. Green-haired pussy.”
“Kitty doesn’t need green hair when she’s got such green eyes does she?” Calliope snapped back. “Jealous of Billie Jean, jealous of CandiAAGGGHHH.” Mason cut off the accusations with a no-nonsense stomp to Cali’s crotch, then, still holding captive the Eclectic Eel’s ankles, she pounded away on the taut meat of each inner thigh. The ring-rattling assault set Caity’s rack bouncing, sweaty black mane whipping hair-metal style. Ending the barrage only when she was in danger of running out of breath – whatever her eyepopping curves might say, Caity was no athlete – she threw the booted feet down dismissively and walked Calliope’s length, arms outstretched as she took in the crowd’s vocal disapproval.
“Do you dumb bastards even know why you cheer for her? You think she notices? She’s got melted cheese where regular people have a brain!” The catfighter took care to put her foot down on the flare of the freak’s green hair before taking hold of her wrists and HAULING her upper body off the canvas. The attempted scalping drew the official’s ire even as Caity smiled smugly. “What? I have to put my feet somewhere.”
True enough, but the doormat / Surfboard treatment was still an infraction and it wasn’t long before the official politely asked her to stop. She responded (not so politely, I might add) that the man in stripes could go piss up a rope, leaving him no choice but to start a count, which Mason milked to ‘FOUR!’ “Fine. Fine!” she snapped after leaving Calliope curled up on the mat at her feet. “I didn’t need this shyt on my hands any longer anyway, I swear this freak thinks chicken grease is conditioner!” Caity made a point of plucking several strands from her palms before tossing them away in disgust.
The crowd booed the derisive treatment and since Mason couldn’t slap them all for the disrespect, she twined one hand into Calliope’s hair and another into her already distended waistband.
“Up, freak. Or I’ll split you in half.” the brunette demanded even as she resumed the tush torturing tactic. Still woozy from the punishment in the turnbuckles, the One Woman Freak Show offered nothing but groans by way of resistance as Mason marched / led her over to the strands. Using her hair-hold to bend Cali double, Caity forced her upper body between the top and middle ropes, straightened her up and threaded her arms over the rubber-coated steel. “Took me a while to see the appeal of wrestling on an oversized roped off gym mat.” the Best Coaster said once her preparation was complete. “Now though, now I’m starting to get it.” Sidled in behind her hapless prey, Mason reached under Calliope’s arms and pulled her cups aside with a teasing little flourish.
“Yuuuhhh…. you better hope the official is on his game tonight, f*ckwit.” Candice snarled in the face of a whole lotta cameras. “If he’s not I’m going to ruin you before he gets the chance to pull me offa AAAAAAARRRRRGGGHHHHHH BYTCH!”
Caity pinched her foe’s nipples and twisted like she was in search of different radio stations on opposite ends of the dial. “Go on, pussy, give up!” Mason’s voice was cruel and teasing, her cheek wedged in against Akeley’s like she was looking for a selfie and not seeking a humiliating surrender. “Give it up or I’ll twist these off and give them to Anna as a presNNNNGGGGGHH!”
Candice steeled herself against the pain just long enough to bring her right foot whipping up n’ back in a Mule Kick that THWHUNKED between Mason’s thighs. Such a blatant Low Blow was often frowned upon by the ref, but he let it slide since it had come as defense against an equally illegal tactic.
Titty Twister forgotten as she stumbled away from the strands, Caity turned around in search of sanctuary, then wailed in fresh agony when the newly-freed Candice helped herself to a double handful of bikini bottoms and tried to raise them to shoulder level! “Don’t even THINK about giving up yet, honey.” Akeley cooed as she took lead in the torturous dance. “You and I are just getting started!”
Spinning Mason to face her, the Pitiless Pragmatist threw one arm over the brunette’s shoulders and slipped another between her legs. From there she hoisted Caity onto one shoulder, but instead of slamming her to the mat, she stomped to the closest corner and stuffed her burden against the buckles. A little bit of thrashing around got Mason’s ankles wedged under the top turnbuckle, Anna’s special friend strapped to the Tree of Woe. “Wanna know another advantage of fighting in a ring, Jiggles? It opens up whole new angles!”
With that she curled her left hand into a ‘C’ shaped spade, slipped it between the Californian’s thighs and squeeeeeeeeeeeeeezed her defenseless crotch as hard as she could! The crowd shrieked along with Mason, the former drowning out the latter although not by much. Delighted to see the Haughty Hottie suffering as she had made others to suffer, those assembled began to chant ‘TAP!’ even though the ref would force a break sooner than later.
Though Mason squeezed her eyes tight shut, the pain of the Claw bit hard. So she bit back. The Best Coaster pulled her foe's right leg closer, turned her head and sank her teeth into the Frightener's calf. As always, the hurt became easier to take once Caity was giving some in return, and although with the official's count disrupted by the new infraction she had actually bought herself some extra time on the end of the Claw, the wailing from due north was worth it.
Her tits squashed unbecomingly beneath her chin by gravity and the awkward position, the Cali Catfighter next reached a hand up and snatched Akeley's sweat-soaked bottoms before roughly pulling them down, baring her butt to a good percentage of the watching crowd, only her position in the corner saving her from the full 360 degrees of embarrassment.
“Hey!!!”
The release of the Crotch Claw followed that indignant howl. Caity opened her mouth and gasped with sweet relief but was very quickly lifted up by the hair and RIPPED from her moorings. She rolled across the canvas and came to a stop clutching her scalp, the mane-propelled voyage offering an unpleasant reminder of that last trip to Vegas.
“You're lucky, Candice. Someone in the Hiring Department must have a thing for flat asses,” she muttered, tossing her head back as she regained a somewhat wobbly verticality, the color draining out of her face after the blood-rush of dangling upside-down.
“Candice isn't the only one who can start a fire in your hold.” Calliope had pulled and tugged her attire back into its proper alignment and she looked unusually focused on her surroundings, and most particularly on Caity. “Kitty's a nasty hypocrite for forgetting that.”
CRACKKK!!! Heartily sick of the One Woman Freak Show and her strange verbal quirks, Caity drew her arm back and LIT UP Calliope's cleavage with a Knife Edge Chop. “There isn't anybody here called Kitty, you fucking crazy bitch.”
CRAAACKK!! Calliope came back with a Chop of her own that set Mason's bare breasts jiggling. “Awww, don't worry. Hear that siren? The fire truck will soon be here for those burning Kitty titties.”
CRACCKK!! CRRAACCKKK!!! CRACCKKK!! CCRRAAAACCKKK!!! Though the crowd quickly got into the fiery exchange, the two women only had eyes for each other, and the reddening line they were rapidly painting on their foe's rack.
It was the Cali Catfighter who broke first, turning away with a miserable hiss and crossing her arms across her chest. Calliope flashed the fans a winning grin before wrapping her arms round Mason's waist and bodying her into the ropes. Their sweating torsos were briefly welded together, and the rebound saw Caity pulled off her feet and stacked on her shoulders, Calliope's weight on her upturned legs.
The Roll-Up drew the ref in impressively fast given the way Caity's upturned hindquarters were churning, and he counted out….
ONE..
TWO…
THREE!
“NO!!” The Best Coaster freed herself a heartbeat too late, her exclamation coinciding with the CLANG of the bell. She rolled her fine self under the bottom rope to the floor as the Announcer made it official. “Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner, by pinfall...CALLIOPE!”
“Yay!” The Queen of Outré Space celebrated with a cartwheel and a deep bow to the appreciative crowd, who had developed quite a fondness for her various absurdities. “See the world famous animal tamer and herAAAAWWWWW. Abort. Abort,” she groaned, sinking to the mat with her hands stuffed between her legs.
Caity Mason gave the tennis racket she'd retrieved from beneath the ring a twirl before SMASHING it down frame first on Calliope's back. “BACK OFF,” she screamed at the official when he looked like interfering. A few more similar blows left the victorious Frightener a moaning wreck. Caity sent the racket skittering out of the ring and rolled Calliope onto her back. Leaning in close, she smoothed some strands of hair away from the downed woman's face. “Go on and hide as deep inside that mush as you like, Akeley, won't stop you learning how my ass tastes.”
Those hazel eyes flickered open at that, but Caity didn't wait to discover whether it was Calliope or Candice behind them. To a chorus of fury she lowered her spectacular backside into a sweaty Reverse Facesit and tried to make good on her promise, grinding down hard and mean until the ramp filled up with officials, at which point she vacated the ring for good, pushing past them with her head down, another loss already added to her Wikipedia page.