Post by alyadmirer on May 30, 2017 21:31:02 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer begins, “your following contest is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time limit. Introducing first, from Honolulu, Hawaii, standing five feet eight inches tall, Reagan Atkins... and her partner, from Adelaide, Australia, standing five feet seven inches tall, Mattie Knight... at a combined weight of two hundred and sixty-five pounds, together they are... THE SUUURRRFFF SIIISSSTTTEEERRRSSS!!!!!”
”MISIRLOU”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-y3h9p_c5-M
REAGAN ATKINS:
MATTIE KNIGHT:
The FAWN Arena’s speakers begin to pump out Dick Dale’s “Misirlou”, an instantly recognizable tune that gets nearly the entire crowd on their side right away. Any remaining reluctance on the part of the FAWNatics to embrace the novices is eliminated when the curtains part, and two drop dead gorgeous blondes--both of whom have very clearly spent plenty of time on the beach--stride onto the FAWN Arena’s ramp. Reagan--the slightly taller of the two--sports flame red bikini, Mattie--the babiest of babyfaces--a purple pair in the same style, Atkins and Knight both wearing white pads and NOT wearing any footwear. And each woman sports a tee in the same color as their respective two pieces, presenting the same statement in a sandy, golden font:
“BEACH PLEASE!”
Not having their services retained when FAWN’s developmental system was consolidated into Bangor had hurt, but Atkins and Knight had landed on their feet in a small scale but successful promotion based in Tampa. But the Sisters appear plenty pleased to have the opportunity to compete again in the FAWN Arena as they race down the aisle, Reagan slapping the hands of those along the right-hand side guardrail and Mattie doing likewise with the left. The duo continues on their opposing ways when they reach ringside, continuing to introduce themselves to the FAWNatics, their efforts only interrupted once the blondes reach the announce table.
There, Reagan and Mattie give EACH OTHER a high five, their hands each catching their partner’s backside on the downswing before Knight and Atkins pass by one another, both Sisters now slapping the same hands their partner had.
Stopping at the front of the ramp, Atkins and Knight hop onto the apron side by side, turning their back to the ropes. With a delightful little shimmy, Mattie sends her left hip bumping into Reagan’s right, the blondes then swiveling and, in one languid motion, sweeping through the ropes. Now inside the ring, the former Desert Divas tag champs claim a corner, and as Mattie begins to stretch, Reagan throws her back into the ropes, wrapping her arms around the top strand as she tests the firmness of the cables.
The surf rock fades from the air, but the silence doesn’t last long. A new set of strings begins to play over the speakers, these with a decidedly Latin tint—and a curiously familiar sound as well, though not one that is immediately recognized by much of the audience. “And their opponents,” the announcer resumes, “first from San Juan, Puerto Rico, standing five feet seven inches tall, Marisol Ayala… and her partner, from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, standing five feet four inches tall, Luisa Campos… at a combined weight of two hundred and fifty-seven pounds, together they are… DIIIAAAMMMOOONNNDDDSSS ANNNDDD PEEEAAARRRLLLSSS!!!!!”
”CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’ (LATIN)”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=61b9SvAlE10
MARISOL AYALA:
LUISA CAMPOS:
The announcer’s voice reverberates through the air for a few seconds before dissipating, and it proves a couple of seconds after that before Marisol Ayala and Luisa Campos deign to grace the FAWN Arena with the presence. Ayala takes the lead as they march down to the ring. The taller, curvier half of the duo is clad in a black velvet fightin’ one piece, the bottoms high waisted, the bikini top for the moment at least partially obscured by her unzipped, diamond studded black leather jacket—though Marisol’s impressive cleavage is in no way disguised. Around the Puerto Rican beauty’s neck is a narrow black choker, with white pads and boots completing the look.
Campos, meanwhile, sports a one piece—also in black velvet, with a keyhole design that bears her own cleavage, certainly more modest than her partner’s, but no less inviting. There are no shoulder straps with this design; instead, a string of pearls loops around her neck, connecting to the velvet just above that keyhole opening to hold the garment in place. Like her partner, she too sports white pads and boots. But Luisa also wears a pair of elbow length opera style gloves, and instead of a leather jacket, she wears an exceedingly long, black ring cape, its tail trailing behind her by a number of feet.
On the one hand, Luisa pays the audience no attention as she strides toward the ring, nose ever so slightly upturned and a sneer on her lips. On the other hand, the deliberateness of that march and the swish of her hips illustrates just how much she is aware, and how much she is enjoying being the center of attention—or at least, sharing the spotlight with Marisol, who not only acknowledges the crowd but has no issues jawing with them for each step toward the ring.
Marisol again takes the lead in heading up the stairs, and she KEEPS climbing, claiming the near ringpost as their corner and stepping up to the second rope, raising a triumphant fist into the air. Luisa, meanwhile, moves to the middle of the apron before sweeping through the ropes, her cape catching and trailing over the middle rope as she approaches the center of the ring. There, she brings her hands up to her shoulders and slips off her cape, allowing it to gather in a puddle behind her.
In the blondes’ corner, a spirited game of Rock Paper Scissors determines that Matilda will start the match, when her Rock blunts Reagan’s Scissors. It’s far more straight forward who will start the match on the other side when a thoroughly disinterested Luisa stifles a yawn and slips through the ropes. “You got this, babe?” Campos asks her partner.
For her part, Marisol seems THOROUGHLY engaged, swinging her arms in front of chest and rolling her shoulders as she loosens up. “Completely,” she replies. “Might even give you a nice night off…”
“Wellllllllllll…” the smaller brunette replies with a sly grin. “I MIGHT wanna play in a little bit.”
As Ayala nods knowingly, the bell sounds, bringing blonde and brunette out of their corners. The fairly evenly matched duo—same height, Knight maybe a couple of pounds slighter, if a little more streamlined—circle one another, drawing closer and closer, until finally locking up in the middle of the ring. And after a few moments of struggle, it’s the blonde who forces her foe to retreat, until Marisol’s back is pressed tight against the ropes.
“BREAK!” the referee shouts, and Mattie complies, stepping back with her hands raised.
“Welcome to the bigs, Sheila,” the Aussie smirks. “Takes more than big norks to belong here.”
Marisol’s only response is a mirthless chuckle as she pushes away from the cables, the duo promptly locking up for a second time. And after reversing positions, Matilda finds herself driven back into the ropes…
“Your turn, Marisol,” the official barks. “BREAK!”
Ayala nods and pulls her hands away… but then, she sends those open hands swooping down, her palms striking Knight’s “norks” with a loud, crisp, resounding ‘THWAAAAAAK!’ Even as the Puerto Rican beauty starts to take a step back, a pair of crimson handprints are beginning to form on the exposed skin left unprotected by Matilda’s bikini top. The stinging blow brought the Aussie blonde’s left hand to her bosom and raised her right foot momentarily into the air, but she recovers quickly.
Pain giving way to anger, Knight grabs the brunette’s shoulders and spins the duo around, pushing Ayala’s back up against the rubber coated steel. With a small shuffle to the side, Matilda draws her right hand back and unloads with a quick trio of open hand chops to Marisol’s considerable assets, each shot impacting just a little louder than the previous had. Leaning in, the young blonde grabs the newcomer’s wrist and launches her for a ride with an Irish whip.
And when the Puerto Rican bombshell returns toward her, Mattie leaps and delivers a dropkick that catches Ayala flush in the chest.
Both women scramble to their feet quickly, but Knight gets there juuuuust a little quicker, allowing her to pivot toward her corner and slap the outstretched hand of Reagan Atkins. Marisol attempts to take advantage of the blonde’s turned back, but before she can, Knight swivels and goes airborne again, connecting with a second dropkick to the chest. After the second dropkick, the rookie is a little slower to rise, and by the time she does, Knight is not only back to her feet, but Atkins is right by her side…
… and together, the Surf Sisters strike Marisol’s chest with a DOUBLE dropkick.
As Matilda departs, Reagan peels Marisol off the canvas. Slipping her head underneath the brunette’s right arm, the surfer from the Aloha State reaches one arm across Ayala’s chest and the other around her back. Then, with a small grunt, Atkins hups the newcomer off her feet, holding the writhing beauty against her torso for a moment in a pseudo bearhug. But Reagan then throws her weight backward, driving Marisol to the deck with her signature In the Pocket.
IN THE POCKET:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9EJ8vfaz-34
Rising quickly, Atkins yanks Marisol to her feet with a handful of hair before slapping on a wristlock. She then backs toward her corner, allowing Matilda to reach over the top rope and slap her shoulder. Joining her partner in the ring, she applies a wristlock of her own before both Surf Sisters deliver a swift kick to Ayala’s midsection. As the brunette’s legs buckle, Reagan releases her hold and heads to her corner. Knight, on the other hand, keeps her wristlock secured—and she quickly makes her way toward the near neutral corner. In an impressive display of agility, Mattie deftly climbs the turnbuckles to the top rope, which she begins to tightrope her way along, intending to deliver an arm drag from the middle of that uppermost cable…
… when Marisol gives the blonde’s arm a sharp, sudden tug. Matilda has no opportunity to regain her balance before her feet slip off the rubber coated steel, her downward flight stopped only when her crotch hits the top rope, drawing a sympathetic grimace from the crowd and a surprisingly soft moan from Knight herself. “MATTIE!” Reagan calls out, taking one step down the apron. But before she can get any further, Ayala charges and catches the concerned blonde with a forearm that sends Atkins flying from the ring and slamming into the guardrail below.
Turning, the voluptuous brunette heads over to her corner, where Luisa regards her approach with a smirk. “Knew I’d have to come in and save your ass eventually,” the smaller brunette says, her tone more tease than taunt, and the response Campos receives comes with a similar deliver.
“Shut up and get your ass in here,” Ayala replies, slapping her partner’s hand.
But Luisa DOESN’T enter the ring. Nor, for that matter, does Marisol depart. Instead, she swivels and hits the ropes directly across from Matilda, who remains precariously perched on the top rope, holding onto the cable with both hands for dear life. The vibrations from Ayala’s striking the ropes on the opposite side of the ring force the anguished blonde to grip the rope a little tighter, but not even that can save Knight when Marisol leaps into a mighty Big Boot, her heel SLAMMING into Mattie’s temple and sending the blonde CRASHING to the floor below.
Unaware of what has befallen her partner, but thoroughly incensed by what has happened to the pair of them, Reagan Atkins slides underneath the bottom rope. She promptly makes a beeline toward Marisol, but the official turns and intercepts her before she can get there. He begins to usher her back toward the blonde’s corner, a process in no way helped by Ayala’s jawing over the zebra’s shoulders, hurling insults at Atkins in both English and in Spanish…
… while on the floor, Luisa Campos pulls a mewling Mattie Knight off the concrete and sends her hurtling headlong into the ringsteps. The Aussie stunner strikes the steel hard enough to send the steps sliding about a foot out of place, while poor Matilda crumples to the floor in a moaning heap. The Brazilian brunette pulls her up and stuffs her onto the apron, sending Knight tumbling back into the ring with a shove before she follows suit.
Campos hairhauls the anguished blonde up to rubbery legs, and then—without releasing her grip on Knight’s locks—she takes a small step to the side. Luisa follows up by abruptly dropping to one knee, and using her grasp on Matilda’s mane, she viciously YANKS the taller woman down until Mattie’s back SLAMS into Ayala’s thigh and posted knee. Groaning, the Aussie tumbles to the deck, lying face down, her left hand reaching for the small of her aching back while her right arm falls across the back of her head.
HAIR PULL BACKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLjm9anYvbE
Climbing to her feet, Campos now takes TWO handfuls of hair as she pulls the blonde up. The Brazilian brunette takes a couple of retreating steps back toward her corner, but then she jumps into the air, extending her shapely legs in front of her in a wide ‘V’ and SLAMMING Mattie’s face into the canvas between her parted stems. Even after hitting the mat, however, Campos doesn’t relinquish her grip on the blonde’s tresses—and, seemingly unsatisfied with the sitout facebuster, Luisa starts scrubbing the canvas with Matilda’s mug, earning for herself a rebuke from the official and a cascade of boos from the audience.
Eventually, Luisa extricates her hands from Knight’s hair, which allows the punished blonde to roll over to her back. Rising, Campos heads to her corner—but she does so by taking a scenic route, first walking around to Mattie’s left flank before stuffing her heel into the blonde’s belly and walking across her to tag Marisol. Matilda rolls to her hip, coughing and curling up as Ayala slips through the ropes. Tugging her foe up by the hair, the Puerto Rican bombshell drags Mattie toward the Diamonds & Pearls corner, forcing the blonde in tight against the ropes—and making a point to ensure that Knight’s bosom is pressed against the top rope.
At which point, Marisol leans in against her prey, using her weight to press Mattie deeper into the taut rubber coated steel before she begins to force the Aussie’s body left and right, back and forth. Knight cannot help but cry out in agony as the sensitive flesh of her breasts is assaulted by the unrelenting cable, her only respite coming when the official steps in and begins his count…
“ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!”
Marisol steps back, but only for a moment. Before Mattie can pull away from the cables, Ayala pushes the blonde’s upper body underneath the top rope. Cupping Knight’s chin with her left hand, the cruel brunette pulls back on her jaw, forcing the Aussie’s shoulderblades into the top rope while the middle cable pushes into her tummy. Marisol then starts reigning down forearms, Mattie’s enflamed chest proving a most inviting target. And despite the crowd’s distaste for these raven-haired insurgents, it doesn’t take long for the FAWNatics to start counting off Ayala’s blows…
“ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!
FIVE!!!!!
SIX!!!!!!
SEVEN!!!!!!!
EIGHT!!!!!!!!
NINE!!!!!!!!!
TEN!!!!!!!!!!”
“MARISOL!!!!” the ref snaps, stepping in and pulling the Puerto Rican bombshell away from the teary-eyed blonde, his count having gone unheeded. As Mattie drops to her knees, sagging against the ropes, Ayala wheels around at the official, enraged.
“WHOSE SHOW DO YOU THINK THIS IS?” Marisol shouts, directly into his face. “DO YOU THINK ANYONE PAYS TO SEE YOU DRONE ON AND ON AND ON? NO, THEY PAY TO SEE HOT BABES BEAT THE SH!T OUT OF EACH OTHER! THEY PAY TO SEE A BABE TURNED INTO A SNIVELING BYTCH BEGGING FOR MERCY! AND YOUR ONLY JOB IS TO RING THE BELL AND THE START AND THE… HEY, STOP HER!!!!!”
Taking the ref by the shoulders, she spins him around so that he can see a livid Reagan Atkins racing toward them. He immediately takes a step to cut her off, barely even noticing the helpful shove Marisol had given him. One thing he absolutely fails to notice is the reason for Reagan’s intrusion, which is Luisa Campos on the floor, her hands wrapped around the back of Mattie’s neck, pulling the Aussie’s throat down across the middle rope and collapsing her windpipe. Knight’s feet frantically kick and drum at the canvas, but the sound of those kicks and stomps cannot overcome the angry shouts of her own partner, nor the concerned roar of the FAWNatics.
Campos relents of her own accord, retreating and climbing back onto the apron on the other side of the ringpost as Marisol steps in and pulls the wheezing blonde up from her knees. Turning Knight away from the ropes, Ayala slings an arm around the Aussie blonde’s neck and grabs her waistband with the other hand. Just as the official finally succeeds in ushering Atkins back into the Surf Sisters’ corner, Marisol pops her hips and swings Matilda into the air. Dropping her opponent’s shins across the top turnbuckle, the brunette allows the cables to whiplash her cargo back aloft—at which point Marisol pivots and drops, SLAMMING Mattie’s chest and stomach into the mat via her slingshot gourdbuster.
SLINGSHOT GOURDBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TnspDQ93uo
Rolling the devastated blonde over to her back, Marisol casually drapes herself across Matilda’s chest, not even bothering to hook a leg as the referee slides into position…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Knight gets a shoulder up.
Ayala’s only response to the thwarted pin is a sadistic smile, before she slaps her hands down upon Mattie’s breasts, the Aussie uttering a pitiable yelp as her opponent uses the blonde’s gurls to push up to her feet. Stooping down, the Puerto Rican beauty scoops Knight up against her impressive chest and carries Matilda into, at least from the Aussie’s viewpoint, the wrong corner.
Swinging her foe upside down, Marisol bends Matilda’s knees over the top rope, hooking the blonde’s ankles underneath the wiring fastening the top turnbuckle to the ringpost and strapping Knight to the Tree of Woe. She then begins delivering stomp after stomp to the Aussie’s chest, Luisa doing her partner a solid by holding onto Mattie’s feet so that the force of the barrage doesn’t extricate her from the Tree. “LET HER OUT, MARISOL!” the ref orders, but Ayala doesn’t stop—though she does hold up one hand for Campos to reach out and tag.
The brunettes trade places, Ayala slipping through the ropes and out onto the apron while Campos casually saunters toward the opposite corner. Suddenly, Luisa shifts from a stroll to a sprint, taking a swipe at Reagan which comes up empty—by design. After all, her goal had not been to knock Atkins off the apron, but rather to compel her into the ring. And sure enough, the idiot takes the bait. As the ref moves to cut her off, Luisa turns back toward her corner without breaking stride and dives into a low crossbody that connects with the suspended Knight’s chest.
The impact finally loosens Matilda from the bonds of the Tree, her battered body puddling into a heap in the corner. In a shocking display of kindness, Campos helps to pull the battered blonde up to a seated position, but it’s only a moment before the Brazilian beauty’s ulterior motives become clear, when she places the sole of her boot against the side of Mattie’s face and gets to scrubbin’. Campos manages to get in a couple of unperturbed passes before the referee makes it back to them, at which point Luisa ceases the assault and races into far ropes. Rebounding off the cables, the young brunette connects with one last boot to the side of the face, this one landing hard enough to send Matilda spilling through the ropes and tumbling to the floor below.
FACE WASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9eOGfaqy98
Pushing away from the cables, Campos turns away from the ropes and struts toward the enemy corner, arms extended wide at her sides. “NO WONDER FAWN SENT YOUR ASSES PACKING!” Luisa taunts Reagan, who to her credit this time stops herself with only one luscious leg threaded through the ropes.
“JUST WAIT…” Atkins snaps back, but unnoticed by anyone but the FAWNatics, down on the floor Marisol has pulled Mattie up to unsteady legs. Pulling Knight’s right arm across Ayala’s ample chest, the Puerto Rican bombshell reaches underneath Matilda’s ensnared wing to grasp the back of her right thigh. Then, with a grunt of effort, Marisol muscles the Aussie off her feet, SLAMMING her back into the scarcely padded floor with her waterwheel suplex.
WATERWHEEL SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK7hqYzTQ5Y
Ayala then shovels the broken blonde underneath the bottom rope, the official’s back still helpfully turned to her corner and Matilda’s partner still jaw jacking with Campos. Finally, Luisa throws up a dismissive hand and saunters away, while a moaning Matilda begins to slooooowly drag herself across the canvas. Rather than move to stop her, Campos merely throws her arms over the top rope and reclines against the cables, content to watch as the sweat-drenched Knight attempts to crawl toward possibly one of the most desperately needed tag in FAWN history. The FAWNatics, for their part, allow themselves a scant few seconds to voice their displeasure at Luisa’s arrogance before they begin stomping and clapping, cheering and chanting, urging the Aussie blonde toward her partner, Reagan straaaaaaaaaning to reach her hand into the ring as far as she can…
… but with Atkins still several feet away, Luisa explodes off the ropes, delivering a vicious stomp to the back of Mattie’s skull.
With Matilda properly halted, face down, Campos circles to the blonde’s legs. Stepping a boot between the Aussie’s thighs, Luisa folds her right leg at the knee, placing Knight’s shin against the back of her left knee. Folding the other leg to lock the right in place, the Brazilian brunette slips Mattie’s left foot behind her calf. Then, reaching down, Luisa gathers a handful of her opponent’s blonde hair, slipping the tresses underneath Mattie’s chin before suddenly and savagely YANKING upward, transforming the blonde’s own locks into something of a noose as her upper body is lifted into the air. Positioning a boot against the back of the surfer girl’s noggin, Campos lets go of Matilda’s hair as she STOMPS down, driving Knight’s features into the mat.
And with the Aussie’s bells still ringing, Luisa bridges back, securing a chinlock before CRANKING back, the gorgeous brunette damn near rising back to her full length as she administers a hold she calls her Pearl Choker.
PEARL CHOKER @4:46:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rkXCtfgfXqg
In her current condition, it probably would have only taken mere seconds for Campos to wring a submission out of her opponent with this particularly diabolical torture. And in a singles match, no doubt the victory would have been hers in short order. In THIS match, however, Reagan Atkins is able to slip into the ring and deliver a running double axe handle to Luisa’s vulnerable abdominals. The shot forces an immediate break to the hold, the brunette dropping to her knees and hugging her belly with one arm. But before she can try to press matters, the official intercedes, leading a furious Reagan back to her corner.
Meanwhile, Marisol raises her hands over her head and performs a conspicuously loud clap. Luisa takes her meaning immediately, falling to her back and rolling underneath the bottom rope as Ayala slips into the ring. As Campos heads back to her corner along the edge of the ring, the Puerto Rican bombshell nudges Mattie over to her back before taking her wrists. Pulling up on the blonde’s arm, Marisol begins delivering stomp after stomp after stomp after STOMP to the Aussie’s face and chest.
INVERTED SURFBOARD STOMPS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=f04hoJCrtt4
When the ref finally gets Reagan out of the ring and turns back toward the action, he does something of a doubletake at the sight of Marisol in the ring administering abuse. Turning toward the FAWNatics, he asks, “WAS THERE A TAG???”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!” the crowd reacts, very nearly in unison.
He steps toward Ayala. “Get out of thing, Marisol,” he orders.
“You deaf as well as blind?” the curvaceous brunette snarls. “I tagged! Didn’t you HEAR it?”
Thinking back, the zebra DOES remember something that sounded like a tag. And so, drawing the ire of the masses, he steps back with a shrug of his shoulders, allowing Ayala to stay in the ring. Releasing Matilda’s wrists, Marisol trades in that grip for a set of dual breast claws, the overwhelmed Aussie moaning as her foe’s talons dig into her abused mammaries. But moaning becomes wailing when Ayala uses her new handholds to lift Knight off the mat and to her feet.
Those wails then become HOWLS of utter agony when Marisol digs her claws in even tighter and hoists Matilda OFF her feet! At the apex of her ascent, Ayala releases one of her claws, and wraps that arm around her opponent’s thigh. She then violently swings Knight downward as she jumps into the air, SLAMMING the blonde’s body into the canvas between her parted stems, OBLITERATING the last vestiges of fighting spirit in the Aussie’s body with her Puta Bomb.
PUTA BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=f04hoJCrtt4
Continuing to palm Matilda’s breasts, Marisol holds her down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREENOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“AYYYYYYGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Mattie shrieks, roused out of her slumber when Ayala applies her breast claws AGAIN and uses them to pull Knight’s shoulders off the mat. With the crowd launching a downpour of jeers and whistles, Marisol climbs to her feet and pulls her foe up as well. Slipping Mattie’s left arm around her neck, the Puerto Rican bombshell allows Knight to slump against her as Ayala takes her right hand. Sauntering toward the Surf Sister’s corner, Marisol smirks as she raises Mattie’s right hand, holding it toward her partner’s outstretched hand, but leaving her fingertips JUUUUUUST out of reach…
… and then, the curvaceous brunette wheels around, whipping Mattie as well, sending the Aussie hurtling into the one corner she absolutely DID NOT want to go to.
Knight only has JUST enough wherewithal to turn her back into the buckles as she reaches her destination, her arms flopping over the top rope as her legs buckle. Following her finished opponent in, Marisol reaches over Mattie’s shoulder to tag Luisa, who promptly starts to scale her way toward the top rope. Arriving on her perch, Luisa grabs a handful of hair, pulling the blonde’s slumped head back until the back of her skull rests against Campos’ knee.
The Brazilian brunette then dives to the canvas, her knee RAMMING Mattie’s mug into the mat.
CALF BRANDING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDxV5kOQgS0
As Mattie flops over to her back, settling into a spasming mass of sweat-soaked flesh, Luisa climbs onto the Aussie’s lap and pulls the blonde up to a sitting position. Then, with a shocking level of tenderness, the Brazilian brunette begins to brush some stray, damp locks away from Knight’s eyes. “Shhhhhhhh,” Campos purrs, “we want the camera to be able to see your face, don’t we?”
Luisa’s caressing hand slip around to the back of Mattie’s head, gently gliding downward toward her neck, her curled fingers gathering as much of the Aussie’s tresses as they can… when, suddenly, Campos brings her hand back around to Matilda’s face. Specifically, to her mouth, Campos STUFFING as much of Knight’s locks as she can into her gaping maw. And before Mattie can even begin to cough any of it out, Luisa’s digits clamp down in a mandible claw! It’s a particularly disgusting variation on the mandible claw, which Campos refers to as the Gag Suppressant—and the combination of agony from the claw and the restriction of her airways thanks to her own hair is particularly effective. Knight’s arms spasm, weakly and uncontrollably, her protests muffled and garbled by Luisa’s fingers and Mattie’s tresses.
With certain defeat looming on the horizon, Reagan Atkins again slips through the ropes, rushing to come to the aid of her sister by another mister… but this time, the distance to cover is too great for Reagan, and before she can arrive, she charges directly into the lowered shoulder of Marisol Ayala, the Puerto Rican bombshell driving damn near all the air out of Atkins’ sails with a spear. Rolling to her back, Marisol pulls her foe on top of her, roughly shoving the breathless blonde’s face into her décolletage. She then compounds an already formidable front sleeper by slipping her legs around Reagan’s waist and adding a bodyscissors—a technique which she liked to call her Caribbean Getaway…
It’s only a matter of seconds before Atkins succumbs to oblivion. And while that doesn’t matter in regard to the official outcome of the match, only a moment or two later Mattie Knight’s feeble struggles come to a limp and lifeless halt. The referee doesn’t even bother checking her arm before calling for the bell.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer declares, while Marisol and Luisa each release their respective snoozing blonde, allowing each one to spill over to their backs, “your winners of the match, via knockout… DIIIAAAMMMOOONNNDDDSSS ANNNDDD PEEEAAARRRLLLSSS!!!!!”
Campos and Ayala climb to their feet, each brunette sporting a confident sneer as the referee raises their hands. No doubt the nights to come would not prove AS easy for these exotic imports, but Marisol and Luisa had absolutely succeeded in making an emphatic statement on this night.
”MISIRLOU”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-y3h9p_c5-M
REAGAN ATKINS:
MATTIE KNIGHT:
The FAWN Arena’s speakers begin to pump out Dick Dale’s “Misirlou”, an instantly recognizable tune that gets nearly the entire crowd on their side right away. Any remaining reluctance on the part of the FAWNatics to embrace the novices is eliminated when the curtains part, and two drop dead gorgeous blondes--both of whom have very clearly spent plenty of time on the beach--stride onto the FAWN Arena’s ramp. Reagan--the slightly taller of the two--sports flame red bikini, Mattie--the babiest of babyfaces--a purple pair in the same style, Atkins and Knight both wearing white pads and NOT wearing any footwear. And each woman sports a tee in the same color as their respective two pieces, presenting the same statement in a sandy, golden font:
“BEACH PLEASE!”
Not having their services retained when FAWN’s developmental system was consolidated into Bangor had hurt, but Atkins and Knight had landed on their feet in a small scale but successful promotion based in Tampa. But the Sisters appear plenty pleased to have the opportunity to compete again in the FAWN Arena as they race down the aisle, Reagan slapping the hands of those along the right-hand side guardrail and Mattie doing likewise with the left. The duo continues on their opposing ways when they reach ringside, continuing to introduce themselves to the FAWNatics, their efforts only interrupted once the blondes reach the announce table.
There, Reagan and Mattie give EACH OTHER a high five, their hands each catching their partner’s backside on the downswing before Knight and Atkins pass by one another, both Sisters now slapping the same hands their partner had.
Stopping at the front of the ramp, Atkins and Knight hop onto the apron side by side, turning their back to the ropes. With a delightful little shimmy, Mattie sends her left hip bumping into Reagan’s right, the blondes then swiveling and, in one languid motion, sweeping through the ropes. Now inside the ring, the former Desert Divas tag champs claim a corner, and as Mattie begins to stretch, Reagan throws her back into the ropes, wrapping her arms around the top strand as she tests the firmness of the cables.
The surf rock fades from the air, but the silence doesn’t last long. A new set of strings begins to play over the speakers, these with a decidedly Latin tint—and a curiously familiar sound as well, though not one that is immediately recognized by much of the audience. “And their opponents,” the announcer resumes, “first from San Juan, Puerto Rico, standing five feet seven inches tall, Marisol Ayala… and her partner, from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, standing five feet four inches tall, Luisa Campos… at a combined weight of two hundred and fifty-seven pounds, together they are… DIIIAAAMMMOOONNNDDDSSS ANNNDDD PEEEAAARRRLLLSSS!!!!!”
”CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’ (LATIN)”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=61b9SvAlE10
MARISOL AYALA:
LUISA CAMPOS:
The announcer’s voice reverberates through the air for a few seconds before dissipating, and it proves a couple of seconds after that before Marisol Ayala and Luisa Campos deign to grace the FAWN Arena with the presence. Ayala takes the lead as they march down to the ring. The taller, curvier half of the duo is clad in a black velvet fightin’ one piece, the bottoms high waisted, the bikini top for the moment at least partially obscured by her unzipped, diamond studded black leather jacket—though Marisol’s impressive cleavage is in no way disguised. Around the Puerto Rican beauty’s neck is a narrow black choker, with white pads and boots completing the look.
Campos, meanwhile, sports a one piece—also in black velvet, with a keyhole design that bears her own cleavage, certainly more modest than her partner’s, but no less inviting. There are no shoulder straps with this design; instead, a string of pearls loops around her neck, connecting to the velvet just above that keyhole opening to hold the garment in place. Like her partner, she too sports white pads and boots. But Luisa also wears a pair of elbow length opera style gloves, and instead of a leather jacket, she wears an exceedingly long, black ring cape, its tail trailing behind her by a number of feet.
On the one hand, Luisa pays the audience no attention as she strides toward the ring, nose ever so slightly upturned and a sneer on her lips. On the other hand, the deliberateness of that march and the swish of her hips illustrates just how much she is aware, and how much she is enjoying being the center of attention—or at least, sharing the spotlight with Marisol, who not only acknowledges the crowd but has no issues jawing with them for each step toward the ring.
Marisol again takes the lead in heading up the stairs, and she KEEPS climbing, claiming the near ringpost as their corner and stepping up to the second rope, raising a triumphant fist into the air. Luisa, meanwhile, moves to the middle of the apron before sweeping through the ropes, her cape catching and trailing over the middle rope as she approaches the center of the ring. There, she brings her hands up to her shoulders and slips off her cape, allowing it to gather in a puddle behind her.
In the blondes’ corner, a spirited game of Rock Paper Scissors determines that Matilda will start the match, when her Rock blunts Reagan’s Scissors. It’s far more straight forward who will start the match on the other side when a thoroughly disinterested Luisa stifles a yawn and slips through the ropes. “You got this, babe?” Campos asks her partner.
For her part, Marisol seems THOROUGHLY engaged, swinging her arms in front of chest and rolling her shoulders as she loosens up. “Completely,” she replies. “Might even give you a nice night off…”
“Wellllllllllll…” the smaller brunette replies with a sly grin. “I MIGHT wanna play in a little bit.”
As Ayala nods knowingly, the bell sounds, bringing blonde and brunette out of their corners. The fairly evenly matched duo—same height, Knight maybe a couple of pounds slighter, if a little more streamlined—circle one another, drawing closer and closer, until finally locking up in the middle of the ring. And after a few moments of struggle, it’s the blonde who forces her foe to retreat, until Marisol’s back is pressed tight against the ropes.
“BREAK!” the referee shouts, and Mattie complies, stepping back with her hands raised.
“Welcome to the bigs, Sheila,” the Aussie smirks. “Takes more than big norks to belong here.”
Marisol’s only response is a mirthless chuckle as she pushes away from the cables, the duo promptly locking up for a second time. And after reversing positions, Matilda finds herself driven back into the ropes…
“Your turn, Marisol,” the official barks. “BREAK!”
Ayala nods and pulls her hands away… but then, she sends those open hands swooping down, her palms striking Knight’s “norks” with a loud, crisp, resounding ‘THWAAAAAAK!’ Even as the Puerto Rican beauty starts to take a step back, a pair of crimson handprints are beginning to form on the exposed skin left unprotected by Matilda’s bikini top. The stinging blow brought the Aussie blonde’s left hand to her bosom and raised her right foot momentarily into the air, but she recovers quickly.
Pain giving way to anger, Knight grabs the brunette’s shoulders and spins the duo around, pushing Ayala’s back up against the rubber coated steel. With a small shuffle to the side, Matilda draws her right hand back and unloads with a quick trio of open hand chops to Marisol’s considerable assets, each shot impacting just a little louder than the previous had. Leaning in, the young blonde grabs the newcomer’s wrist and launches her for a ride with an Irish whip.
And when the Puerto Rican bombshell returns toward her, Mattie leaps and delivers a dropkick that catches Ayala flush in the chest.
Both women scramble to their feet quickly, but Knight gets there juuuuust a little quicker, allowing her to pivot toward her corner and slap the outstretched hand of Reagan Atkins. Marisol attempts to take advantage of the blonde’s turned back, but before she can, Knight swivels and goes airborne again, connecting with a second dropkick to the chest. After the second dropkick, the rookie is a little slower to rise, and by the time she does, Knight is not only back to her feet, but Atkins is right by her side…
… and together, the Surf Sisters strike Marisol’s chest with a DOUBLE dropkick.
As Matilda departs, Reagan peels Marisol off the canvas. Slipping her head underneath the brunette’s right arm, the surfer from the Aloha State reaches one arm across Ayala’s chest and the other around her back. Then, with a small grunt, Atkins hups the newcomer off her feet, holding the writhing beauty against her torso for a moment in a pseudo bearhug. But Reagan then throws her weight backward, driving Marisol to the deck with her signature In the Pocket.
IN THE POCKET:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9EJ8vfaz-34
Rising quickly, Atkins yanks Marisol to her feet with a handful of hair before slapping on a wristlock. She then backs toward her corner, allowing Matilda to reach over the top rope and slap her shoulder. Joining her partner in the ring, she applies a wristlock of her own before both Surf Sisters deliver a swift kick to Ayala’s midsection. As the brunette’s legs buckle, Reagan releases her hold and heads to her corner. Knight, on the other hand, keeps her wristlock secured—and she quickly makes her way toward the near neutral corner. In an impressive display of agility, Mattie deftly climbs the turnbuckles to the top rope, which she begins to tightrope her way along, intending to deliver an arm drag from the middle of that uppermost cable…
… when Marisol gives the blonde’s arm a sharp, sudden tug. Matilda has no opportunity to regain her balance before her feet slip off the rubber coated steel, her downward flight stopped only when her crotch hits the top rope, drawing a sympathetic grimace from the crowd and a surprisingly soft moan from Knight herself. “MATTIE!” Reagan calls out, taking one step down the apron. But before she can get any further, Ayala charges and catches the concerned blonde with a forearm that sends Atkins flying from the ring and slamming into the guardrail below.
Turning, the voluptuous brunette heads over to her corner, where Luisa regards her approach with a smirk. “Knew I’d have to come in and save your ass eventually,” the smaller brunette says, her tone more tease than taunt, and the response Campos receives comes with a similar deliver.
“Shut up and get your ass in here,” Ayala replies, slapping her partner’s hand.
But Luisa DOESN’T enter the ring. Nor, for that matter, does Marisol depart. Instead, she swivels and hits the ropes directly across from Matilda, who remains precariously perched on the top rope, holding onto the cable with both hands for dear life. The vibrations from Ayala’s striking the ropes on the opposite side of the ring force the anguished blonde to grip the rope a little tighter, but not even that can save Knight when Marisol leaps into a mighty Big Boot, her heel SLAMMING into Mattie’s temple and sending the blonde CRASHING to the floor below.
Unaware of what has befallen her partner, but thoroughly incensed by what has happened to the pair of them, Reagan Atkins slides underneath the bottom rope. She promptly makes a beeline toward Marisol, but the official turns and intercepts her before she can get there. He begins to usher her back toward the blonde’s corner, a process in no way helped by Ayala’s jawing over the zebra’s shoulders, hurling insults at Atkins in both English and in Spanish…
… while on the floor, Luisa Campos pulls a mewling Mattie Knight off the concrete and sends her hurtling headlong into the ringsteps. The Aussie stunner strikes the steel hard enough to send the steps sliding about a foot out of place, while poor Matilda crumples to the floor in a moaning heap. The Brazilian brunette pulls her up and stuffs her onto the apron, sending Knight tumbling back into the ring with a shove before she follows suit.
Campos hairhauls the anguished blonde up to rubbery legs, and then—without releasing her grip on Knight’s locks—she takes a small step to the side. Luisa follows up by abruptly dropping to one knee, and using her grasp on Matilda’s mane, she viciously YANKS the taller woman down until Mattie’s back SLAMS into Ayala’s thigh and posted knee. Groaning, the Aussie tumbles to the deck, lying face down, her left hand reaching for the small of her aching back while her right arm falls across the back of her head.
HAIR PULL BACKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLjm9anYvbE
Climbing to her feet, Campos now takes TWO handfuls of hair as she pulls the blonde up. The Brazilian brunette takes a couple of retreating steps back toward her corner, but then she jumps into the air, extending her shapely legs in front of her in a wide ‘V’ and SLAMMING Mattie’s face into the canvas between her parted stems. Even after hitting the mat, however, Campos doesn’t relinquish her grip on the blonde’s tresses—and, seemingly unsatisfied with the sitout facebuster, Luisa starts scrubbing the canvas with Matilda’s mug, earning for herself a rebuke from the official and a cascade of boos from the audience.
Eventually, Luisa extricates her hands from Knight’s hair, which allows the punished blonde to roll over to her back. Rising, Campos heads to her corner—but she does so by taking a scenic route, first walking around to Mattie’s left flank before stuffing her heel into the blonde’s belly and walking across her to tag Marisol. Matilda rolls to her hip, coughing and curling up as Ayala slips through the ropes. Tugging her foe up by the hair, the Puerto Rican bombshell drags Mattie toward the Diamonds & Pearls corner, forcing the blonde in tight against the ropes—and making a point to ensure that Knight’s bosom is pressed against the top rope.
At which point, Marisol leans in against her prey, using her weight to press Mattie deeper into the taut rubber coated steel before she begins to force the Aussie’s body left and right, back and forth. Knight cannot help but cry out in agony as the sensitive flesh of her breasts is assaulted by the unrelenting cable, her only respite coming when the official steps in and begins his count…
“ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!”
Marisol steps back, but only for a moment. Before Mattie can pull away from the cables, Ayala pushes the blonde’s upper body underneath the top rope. Cupping Knight’s chin with her left hand, the cruel brunette pulls back on her jaw, forcing the Aussie’s shoulderblades into the top rope while the middle cable pushes into her tummy. Marisol then starts reigning down forearms, Mattie’s enflamed chest proving a most inviting target. And despite the crowd’s distaste for these raven-haired insurgents, it doesn’t take long for the FAWNatics to start counting off Ayala’s blows…
“ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!
FIVE!!!!!
SIX!!!!!!
SEVEN!!!!!!!
EIGHT!!!!!!!!
NINE!!!!!!!!!
TEN!!!!!!!!!!”
“MARISOL!!!!” the ref snaps, stepping in and pulling the Puerto Rican bombshell away from the teary-eyed blonde, his count having gone unheeded. As Mattie drops to her knees, sagging against the ropes, Ayala wheels around at the official, enraged.
“WHOSE SHOW DO YOU THINK THIS IS?” Marisol shouts, directly into his face. “DO YOU THINK ANYONE PAYS TO SEE YOU DRONE ON AND ON AND ON? NO, THEY PAY TO SEE HOT BABES BEAT THE SH!T OUT OF EACH OTHER! THEY PAY TO SEE A BABE TURNED INTO A SNIVELING BYTCH BEGGING FOR MERCY! AND YOUR ONLY JOB IS TO RING THE BELL AND THE START AND THE… HEY, STOP HER!!!!!”
Taking the ref by the shoulders, she spins him around so that he can see a livid Reagan Atkins racing toward them. He immediately takes a step to cut her off, barely even noticing the helpful shove Marisol had given him. One thing he absolutely fails to notice is the reason for Reagan’s intrusion, which is Luisa Campos on the floor, her hands wrapped around the back of Mattie’s neck, pulling the Aussie’s throat down across the middle rope and collapsing her windpipe. Knight’s feet frantically kick and drum at the canvas, but the sound of those kicks and stomps cannot overcome the angry shouts of her own partner, nor the concerned roar of the FAWNatics.
Campos relents of her own accord, retreating and climbing back onto the apron on the other side of the ringpost as Marisol steps in and pulls the wheezing blonde up from her knees. Turning Knight away from the ropes, Ayala slings an arm around the Aussie blonde’s neck and grabs her waistband with the other hand. Just as the official finally succeeds in ushering Atkins back into the Surf Sisters’ corner, Marisol pops her hips and swings Matilda into the air. Dropping her opponent’s shins across the top turnbuckle, the brunette allows the cables to whiplash her cargo back aloft—at which point Marisol pivots and drops, SLAMMING Mattie’s chest and stomach into the mat via her slingshot gourdbuster.
SLINGSHOT GOURDBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TnspDQ93uo
Rolling the devastated blonde over to her back, Marisol casually drapes herself across Matilda’s chest, not even bothering to hook a leg as the referee slides into position…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Knight gets a shoulder up.
Ayala’s only response to the thwarted pin is a sadistic smile, before she slaps her hands down upon Mattie’s breasts, the Aussie uttering a pitiable yelp as her opponent uses the blonde’s gurls to push up to her feet. Stooping down, the Puerto Rican beauty scoops Knight up against her impressive chest and carries Matilda into, at least from the Aussie’s viewpoint, the wrong corner.
Swinging her foe upside down, Marisol bends Matilda’s knees over the top rope, hooking the blonde’s ankles underneath the wiring fastening the top turnbuckle to the ringpost and strapping Knight to the Tree of Woe. She then begins delivering stomp after stomp to the Aussie’s chest, Luisa doing her partner a solid by holding onto Mattie’s feet so that the force of the barrage doesn’t extricate her from the Tree. “LET HER OUT, MARISOL!” the ref orders, but Ayala doesn’t stop—though she does hold up one hand for Campos to reach out and tag.
The brunettes trade places, Ayala slipping through the ropes and out onto the apron while Campos casually saunters toward the opposite corner. Suddenly, Luisa shifts from a stroll to a sprint, taking a swipe at Reagan which comes up empty—by design. After all, her goal had not been to knock Atkins off the apron, but rather to compel her into the ring. And sure enough, the idiot takes the bait. As the ref moves to cut her off, Luisa turns back toward her corner without breaking stride and dives into a low crossbody that connects with the suspended Knight’s chest.
The impact finally loosens Matilda from the bonds of the Tree, her battered body puddling into a heap in the corner. In a shocking display of kindness, Campos helps to pull the battered blonde up to a seated position, but it’s only a moment before the Brazilian beauty’s ulterior motives become clear, when she places the sole of her boot against the side of Mattie’s face and gets to scrubbin’. Campos manages to get in a couple of unperturbed passes before the referee makes it back to them, at which point Luisa ceases the assault and races into far ropes. Rebounding off the cables, the young brunette connects with one last boot to the side of the face, this one landing hard enough to send Matilda spilling through the ropes and tumbling to the floor below.
FACE WASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9eOGfaqy98
Pushing away from the cables, Campos turns away from the ropes and struts toward the enemy corner, arms extended wide at her sides. “NO WONDER FAWN SENT YOUR ASSES PACKING!” Luisa taunts Reagan, who to her credit this time stops herself with only one luscious leg threaded through the ropes.
“JUST WAIT…” Atkins snaps back, but unnoticed by anyone but the FAWNatics, down on the floor Marisol has pulled Mattie up to unsteady legs. Pulling Knight’s right arm across Ayala’s ample chest, the Puerto Rican bombshell reaches underneath Matilda’s ensnared wing to grasp the back of her right thigh. Then, with a grunt of effort, Marisol muscles the Aussie off her feet, SLAMMING her back into the scarcely padded floor with her waterwheel suplex.
WATERWHEEL SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK7hqYzTQ5Y
Ayala then shovels the broken blonde underneath the bottom rope, the official’s back still helpfully turned to her corner and Matilda’s partner still jaw jacking with Campos. Finally, Luisa throws up a dismissive hand and saunters away, while a moaning Matilda begins to slooooowly drag herself across the canvas. Rather than move to stop her, Campos merely throws her arms over the top rope and reclines against the cables, content to watch as the sweat-drenched Knight attempts to crawl toward possibly one of the most desperately needed tag in FAWN history. The FAWNatics, for their part, allow themselves a scant few seconds to voice their displeasure at Luisa’s arrogance before they begin stomping and clapping, cheering and chanting, urging the Aussie blonde toward her partner, Reagan straaaaaaaaaning to reach her hand into the ring as far as she can…
… but with Atkins still several feet away, Luisa explodes off the ropes, delivering a vicious stomp to the back of Mattie’s skull.
With Matilda properly halted, face down, Campos circles to the blonde’s legs. Stepping a boot between the Aussie’s thighs, Luisa folds her right leg at the knee, placing Knight’s shin against the back of her left knee. Folding the other leg to lock the right in place, the Brazilian brunette slips Mattie’s left foot behind her calf. Then, reaching down, Luisa gathers a handful of her opponent’s blonde hair, slipping the tresses underneath Mattie’s chin before suddenly and savagely YANKING upward, transforming the blonde’s own locks into something of a noose as her upper body is lifted into the air. Positioning a boot against the back of the surfer girl’s noggin, Campos lets go of Matilda’s hair as she STOMPS down, driving Knight’s features into the mat.
And with the Aussie’s bells still ringing, Luisa bridges back, securing a chinlock before CRANKING back, the gorgeous brunette damn near rising back to her full length as she administers a hold she calls her Pearl Choker.
PEARL CHOKER @4:46:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rkXCtfgfXqg
In her current condition, it probably would have only taken mere seconds for Campos to wring a submission out of her opponent with this particularly diabolical torture. And in a singles match, no doubt the victory would have been hers in short order. In THIS match, however, Reagan Atkins is able to slip into the ring and deliver a running double axe handle to Luisa’s vulnerable abdominals. The shot forces an immediate break to the hold, the brunette dropping to her knees and hugging her belly with one arm. But before she can try to press matters, the official intercedes, leading a furious Reagan back to her corner.
Meanwhile, Marisol raises her hands over her head and performs a conspicuously loud clap. Luisa takes her meaning immediately, falling to her back and rolling underneath the bottom rope as Ayala slips into the ring. As Campos heads back to her corner along the edge of the ring, the Puerto Rican bombshell nudges Mattie over to her back before taking her wrists. Pulling up on the blonde’s arm, Marisol begins delivering stomp after stomp after stomp after STOMP to the Aussie’s face and chest.
INVERTED SURFBOARD STOMPS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=f04hoJCrtt4
When the ref finally gets Reagan out of the ring and turns back toward the action, he does something of a doubletake at the sight of Marisol in the ring administering abuse. Turning toward the FAWNatics, he asks, “WAS THERE A TAG???”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!” the crowd reacts, very nearly in unison.
He steps toward Ayala. “Get out of thing, Marisol,” he orders.
“You deaf as well as blind?” the curvaceous brunette snarls. “I tagged! Didn’t you HEAR it?”
Thinking back, the zebra DOES remember something that sounded like a tag. And so, drawing the ire of the masses, he steps back with a shrug of his shoulders, allowing Ayala to stay in the ring. Releasing Matilda’s wrists, Marisol trades in that grip for a set of dual breast claws, the overwhelmed Aussie moaning as her foe’s talons dig into her abused mammaries. But moaning becomes wailing when Ayala uses her new handholds to lift Knight off the mat and to her feet.
Those wails then become HOWLS of utter agony when Marisol digs her claws in even tighter and hoists Matilda OFF her feet! At the apex of her ascent, Ayala releases one of her claws, and wraps that arm around her opponent’s thigh. She then violently swings Knight downward as she jumps into the air, SLAMMING the blonde’s body into the canvas between her parted stems, OBLITERATING the last vestiges of fighting spirit in the Aussie’s body with her Puta Bomb.
PUTA BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=f04hoJCrtt4
Continuing to palm Matilda’s breasts, Marisol holds her down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREENOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“AYYYYYYGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Mattie shrieks, roused out of her slumber when Ayala applies her breast claws AGAIN and uses them to pull Knight’s shoulders off the mat. With the crowd launching a downpour of jeers and whistles, Marisol climbs to her feet and pulls her foe up as well. Slipping Mattie’s left arm around her neck, the Puerto Rican bombshell allows Knight to slump against her as Ayala takes her right hand. Sauntering toward the Surf Sister’s corner, Marisol smirks as she raises Mattie’s right hand, holding it toward her partner’s outstretched hand, but leaving her fingertips JUUUUUUST out of reach…
… and then, the curvaceous brunette wheels around, whipping Mattie as well, sending the Aussie hurtling into the one corner she absolutely DID NOT want to go to.
Knight only has JUST enough wherewithal to turn her back into the buckles as she reaches her destination, her arms flopping over the top rope as her legs buckle. Following her finished opponent in, Marisol reaches over Mattie’s shoulder to tag Luisa, who promptly starts to scale her way toward the top rope. Arriving on her perch, Luisa grabs a handful of hair, pulling the blonde’s slumped head back until the back of her skull rests against Campos’ knee.
The Brazilian brunette then dives to the canvas, her knee RAMMING Mattie’s mug into the mat.
CALF BRANDING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDxV5kOQgS0
As Mattie flops over to her back, settling into a spasming mass of sweat-soaked flesh, Luisa climbs onto the Aussie’s lap and pulls the blonde up to a sitting position. Then, with a shocking level of tenderness, the Brazilian brunette begins to brush some stray, damp locks away from Knight’s eyes. “Shhhhhhhh,” Campos purrs, “we want the camera to be able to see your face, don’t we?”
Luisa’s caressing hand slip around to the back of Mattie’s head, gently gliding downward toward her neck, her curled fingers gathering as much of the Aussie’s tresses as they can… when, suddenly, Campos brings her hand back around to Matilda’s face. Specifically, to her mouth, Campos STUFFING as much of Knight’s locks as she can into her gaping maw. And before Mattie can even begin to cough any of it out, Luisa’s digits clamp down in a mandible claw! It’s a particularly disgusting variation on the mandible claw, which Campos refers to as the Gag Suppressant—and the combination of agony from the claw and the restriction of her airways thanks to her own hair is particularly effective. Knight’s arms spasm, weakly and uncontrollably, her protests muffled and garbled by Luisa’s fingers and Mattie’s tresses.
With certain defeat looming on the horizon, Reagan Atkins again slips through the ropes, rushing to come to the aid of her sister by another mister… but this time, the distance to cover is too great for Reagan, and before she can arrive, she charges directly into the lowered shoulder of Marisol Ayala, the Puerto Rican bombshell driving damn near all the air out of Atkins’ sails with a spear. Rolling to her back, Marisol pulls her foe on top of her, roughly shoving the breathless blonde’s face into her décolletage. She then compounds an already formidable front sleeper by slipping her legs around Reagan’s waist and adding a bodyscissors—a technique which she liked to call her Caribbean Getaway…
It’s only a matter of seconds before Atkins succumbs to oblivion. And while that doesn’t matter in regard to the official outcome of the match, only a moment or two later Mattie Knight’s feeble struggles come to a limp and lifeless halt. The referee doesn’t even bother checking her arm before calling for the bell.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer declares, while Marisol and Luisa each release their respective snoozing blonde, allowing each one to spill over to their backs, “your winners of the match, via knockout… DIIIAAAMMMOOONNNDDDSSS ANNNDDD PEEEAAARRRLLLSSS!!!!!”
Campos and Ayala climb to their feet, each brunette sporting a confident sneer as the referee raises their hands. No doubt the nights to come would not prove AS easy for these exotic imports, but Marisol and Luisa had absolutely succeeded in making an emphatic statement on this night.