Post by bigfan on Jul 23, 2017 20:54:26 GMT
“So let me get this absolutely straight…”
Bethany Christian pinched the bridge of her nose and tried very hard not to let out a sigh. She was an extraordinarily patient woman, as her enemies in both the boardroom and the ring well knew. But the narcissistic megalomanic who had occupied her office for the last forty minutes was stretching her temper to breaking point.
BETHANY CHRISTIAN
“One has-been midget shows off her O-face in the middle of the ring courtesy of a Korean wannabe sex criminal.” Zoë Scott’s voice was full of artificial confusion, as if she still couldn’t quite believe what she was saying even though she’d spent most of the last month complaining about it. “Then that same night, has-been midget number two gets her ass kicked by the tiny child who somehow ended up as our lightweight champion. Then midget number 1, despite having literally been fucked on live TV a short time beforehand, comes back out and hurts the tiny child a bit..”
ZOË SCOTT
“And here’s where I struggle to understand. Because, despite them both being losers, has-been midget number one’s tiny loser ass is given MY title shot.”
Christian took a deep breath. “Zoë, it wasn’t your title shot. This was the champion’s choice, and she chose someone else…”
“SHE CHOSE A LOSER!” It was rare for the Dubai Diva to lose her temper with someone powerful, she normally saved that for her underlings and lackeys. But those hazel eyes blazed fury right now. “I’ve jumped through your hoops, I’ve proven I’m a god-damn winner. Zoë Scott is the rightful challenger, everyone is saying the best thing that ever happened to FAWN! And I wish you’d try not to scowl when I say that.”
In fact Bethany hadn’t done anything of the sort, nor had she pointed out that Scott was a winner only by virtue of some hairspray to her opponent’s eyes and a massive slice of luck. Zoë was clearly paranoid about this, so Christian stayed quiet as the smaller woman fixed her with a stare. “I did things the way real women should. I treated your tiny little girl champion like a grown up, and I got a childish tantrum in response.”
The irony of talking about childish tantrums wasn’t lost on FAWN’s commissioner, but she kept that to herself as well. “Zoë, I’m sorry things didn’t go your way. I’ll make sure that you are next in line whichever one of them comes out with the belt…”
“I don’t want to be ‘next’. I was born to be first! And that tiny little girl had damn well better win because I’m going to enjoy tanning her hide at the same time as I take away her belt!” Scott paused for a second, and her expression changed completely. “Or maybe I’ll just wait until the bell rings at Summer Swelter and then have Bel introduce that Fields child to my boot. Based on previous experience you’ll be begging me to have a title shot after that, yes?”
Christian stood up slowly and leaned forward, a subtle reminder of the height and power advantage she still possessed from her in-ring days. If Scott was cowed she didn’t show it, still seething on the other side of the mahogany, but it did at least make the exotic girl quieten down for a second.
“We have had months of disrupted main events already, Ms Scott, and you don’t yet have the fan interest Jenny Jacobs had when she did that. Besides which I’d have to fine you” Zoë let out a snort and gave her a sneering glare which made it clear exactly who much she was bothered by that prospect, but she didn’t say anything. After a second Bethany continued.
“You are frustrated, and I can understand why. I will make sure you get the first shot at whoever wins, but in the meantime maybe I can offer you an opportunity to take out some of that frustration.”
This time Zoë’s stare was incredulous. “Are you seriously going to try to palm me off with yet another nobody to beat up?” she scoffed.
“No Zoë, I’m giving you the opportunity to take out your frustrations. We’ll make it someone who’s got pedigree, probably a previous contender for the title so it looks nice and legit. And you get plenty of help so your hands don’t get too dirty. And any time you want, during or after the match, you can get a live mic so that you can tell everyone about how unfairly you’ve been treated.”
Scott looked away, clearly still furious. After a few moments of silence she stood up and leaned in too, her face now only a foot or so away from the FAWN Commissioner’s. “There are a few things I need you to remember, Ms Christian.” There was a clear sneer in her voice under the false politeness. “Number one, I don’t need help to mop up some nobody challenger or anyone else. My time is worth more than they are, but please don’t confuse me for someone who can’t get the job done.”
“Number two, I will beat up whatever loser you’re offering me, but if there isn’t a signed contract for a lightweight title match waiting in my dressing room when I get back there I’m going to be extremely disappointed.”
“And three…” Zoë leaned in further, Christian showing no sign at all of flinching. “Very soon I will be this promotion’s Lightweight Champion. And when I am the champion it will be me who makes the decisions”
The Commissioner didn’t say a thing, although her eyes looked angry. A smile spread across Zoë’s face. “Thank you for your time,” she said, sarcasm ringing in her voice. She backed away a little, still holding the older woman’s gaze, and then turned on her heel and swanned out of the room.
Behind her, Bethany sat back down at her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose again. After a second’s thought she reached for the nearby phone and raised the handset to her ear. “Hello. I’m afraid we’ll need to make some changes to Scott’s match. Draft a letter for her to give the referee if she needs it. And make sure there’s a mic down there waiting for Scott. Probably better get a bit more time set aside for the match too.”
The voice on the end of the line sounded both surprised and somewhat concerned. Bethany listened for a second then interrupted. “Yes, I know none of the paying customers want to hear her talk! But it was the only thing I could offer to get her out of the office. You’ll just have to trigger an ad break as soon as she picks up the mic.”
------------------------------ ------------------------------ ---------
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this next contest will be to one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Please welcome first, from San Antonio, Texas, she stands at five feet and three inches and weighs in tonight at 124lbs…please welcome the forever Young American...OLIVIA BARKER!
Train’s ‘All-American Girl’ rang out through the speakers, causing the audience to rise to their feet and welcome back a favourite. Olivia Barker hadn’t been on a PPV card since her unfortunate loss to her former partner some two years ago, but she was welcomed back with open arms by the raucous crowds.
OLIVIA BARKER
And it was pretty clear to see why! Clad in the San Antonio flag inspired gear she had adopted ever since her split from Polly Lockwood, Ollie was a stunning as ever. Her one piece’s plunging neckline showed off plenty of the buxom cleavage she’d been known for in her younger days, and the Texas lonestar just highlighted that trim midriff and strong, thick body. Her red hair hung down past her shoulders and framed a huge smile which let everyone know just how happy she was to be back on Pay-Per-View.
And she made that doubly clear as soon as she set off for the ring. Almost every fan along the entranceway got their own high five and she made a full trip around the ring to greet even more fans before ascending the steps. She gave a big double handed wave to all sides of the arena, receiving a huge ovation in response, before settling into her corner.
“And her opponent, hailing from Dubai, United Arab Emirates, she stands at five feet and four inches of height and weighs in at 119lbs please welcome…the Jetsetter and…ahem…”
The announcer’s voice paused for a second, and a hurried whisper-conversation could just about be heard through the mic. After a second he came back, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice as he read “The best thing to ever happen to FAWN…ZOË SCOTT!”
Kanye west’s synthesized voice shouted “ALL OF THE LIGHTS!”, the arena illuminations responding by cutting out everything except for a single pure-white spotlight. The Oil Baroness swaggered out onto the stage and into that pool, doing a quick dab and then raising both hands to ‘pop’ her flashbulb sigil just as the lights all roared back into a strobing frenzy.
Scott had opted for her usual gear tonight, her grey Calvin Klein-style sports bra cut low to show off her golden-tanned cleavage and the matching briefs showing off plenty of shapely leg. A pale leather jacket covered part of her torso and her eyes were also obscured behind a pair of massively overside Dior shades. After taking a second to reach down and brush an invisible speck from the Balenciaga race runners gracing her feet the Dubai Diva gave a smirk at the camera and sauntered off towards the ring.
ZOË SCOTT
She took her time climbing the steps and paused again on the apron, theatrically removing both her jacket and shades and handing them off to the side. At this point the lights returned to normal, illuminating the hulking figure of her assistant Isobel. Clad in her usual black strappy top and tight jeans, and with a big black Stetson totally failing to cover up her mass of blonde hair, Lamont took her boss’s accessories silently and tucked them safely on a chair by the announce table, settling next to them without saying a word.
ISOBEL LAMONT
Once she had safely delivered her jacket and hat into the hands of her assistant Zoë turned and completely ignored Merle, waiting patiently in his referee’s stripes, instead making a beeline for Olivia in the far corner. The brunette stepped forward aggressively in response, only for Scott to stop a few feet away, gesture to her hometown-inspired getup and ask, in a southern drawl which was very clearly affected, “You from Texas girl?”
Barker hadn’t expected the question but was happy to answer. “San Antonio born and raised. Texan and proud. You have a problem with that, trust fund?” She pre-empted the response to her own question by jostling forward again, closing to within inches of Scott’s face and ready to begin proceedings at a millisecond’s notice.
But it seemed that Zoë was quite so ready. Stepping back slightly and adopting a mildly offended tone she protested “I was born in Houston and raised to have Texan courtesy. I’da thought someone growing up by the Alamo would know all about that.” She offered a handshake which Ollie, stung to her Lonestar core by the insinuation about her manners, immediately accepted.
“I’m Olivia.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m sure you know who I am, but my assistant Isobel over there’s a Houston girl too.” Zoë glanced over her shoulder and gestured “Bel, where are your manners? Come greet the poor lady”.
Lamont had just settled onto a chair next to the timekeeper, but rose without any indication of complaint and clambered up into the ring. She padded over to Olivia, who was immediately suspicious and then found herself in a handshake so firm she suspected a trap until the big blonde released her, tipped her hat, and left as silently as she had arrived.
Having dealt with her obligation to courtesy Zoë turned to where Merle was still waiting patiently to perform his final checks. He bent to inspect her trainers, only to have a hand grab him by the collar and yank him back to standing.
“Listen Earl, I am not in a good mood. I should be winning the Lightweight Title tonight, but that little baby you call a champion can’t cope with facing a real woman so she’s fighting some dwarf instead. On top of this I had requested a proper referee, but apparently you are the only one available. So, if I get one indication that you’re trying to prolong this farce or give this poor loser a helping hand, my assistant is going to break your arm. Understand?”
“It’s ‘Merle’, miss, and I’ll call it down the line like I always do.” The man’s voice had enough of a tremor to satisfy Zoë that her point had been made, but Olivia was apparently not too happy. “Hey! She just threatened you! Are you going to stand forrrUGGGHHHH!”
Zoë spun 90 degrees and smashed a forearm into the San Antonian’s jaw. “You’ve had your courtesy girl, now you get a choice. Option one is that you lay down and we can get this farce over without wasting my precious time. Option two, I make a goddamn example out of you so that furry-loving midget realises who she’s messing wAAAAGGH”
Barker launched a palm-edge chop SMACKing into the socialite’s cleavage. “If you’da stayed in Texas you might’ve learned to stand up and fight instead of asking others to lie down. And Chloe is my friend and a real champion, you’re the one who should be DAaaH!”
Clearly not in the mood to be lectured on her values, Zoë launched another forearm smash and received another hard chop across her tits in return. The battle was joined without needing any words, the only noise for the next forty seconds or so was the SMECK of arms impacting on torso and the grunts and hisses of pain these caused. And the audience noise began to rise as it looked like Ollie, the brawnier of the two lightweights, was the one making progress.
Then, after a particularly spicy chop from the San Antonian quarter, Zoë stomped off in a little circle trying to get some feeling back into the reddening area around her breastbone. Olivia let out a little whoop at what she perceived as winning their little duel, but it died in her throat when the angry socialite spun back and give a hard double-handed shove. Barker sprawled backwards and found the ropes suddenly there behind her, rebounding with some force into a final, triumphant SMASH from Scott that took her off her feet.
Standing over the downed girl Zoë spread her arms wide and sneered “I’d tell you to get used to this view but I don’t plan on this lasting more than a few minutes. Stay down girl, or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
It was very tempting for Olivia to snark something out in response but instead she showed a lot more focus than her opponent had by swinging out a boot and smacking the brunette in the kneecap. Zoë let out a small involuntary yelp and staggered away, her taunt interrupted. Barker was quick to scramble back to her feet and follow.
She reached her opponent just as the Dubai Diva was turning around and launched a big clothesline which took the slightly lighter woman off her feet. This left her on her back with Barker standing over her, a complete reversal from a few seconds before. But unlike Scotty, the redhead wasn’t one for taunting. Instead she just lifted up her boot and brought it back down, stomping a mudhole in ribs, tits, tummy, and any other body part she could reach!
This time Scott let out a real screech, scrabbling with her hands and kicking her legs out frantically to get away from the San Antonian stomps. She managed to wriggle a short distance, Olivia following her every inch of the way and stomping down on anything she could, until eventually Zoë’s hand closed around the bottom rope. “Get her away from me this instant!” she screamed, Merle quickly complying and sliding a hand between the two grapplers.
Olivia Barker had never been much of a rule breaker, but she was mightily enjoying the feeling of stomping this wannabe Texan into the canvas and she needed a fair bit of persuading to back off. Zoë waved a hand at her, suggesting that she back off even more, continuing to complain to the referee even as she got back to her feet.
Merle stepped back, and Barker charged straight in again, ready to follow u her boots with fists. Unfortunately Zoë didn’t feel quite as happy about this, letting out another yelp and ducking her torso back under the ropes. Merle had no choice but to step back in again and usher Olivia away.
And that meant that he was in the perfect position for Zoë to hide behind. Stepping up behind the harried Zebra she popped an arm over his shoulder and flicked a thumb right into Barker’s right eye! The redhead turned away immediately, trying to preserve her peepers, and Zoë leaped around to follow up by taking a firm hold of those fiery locks.
“Hey! Stay away from her eyes Zoë!” Merle yelled, only just realising what had happened. “Get off her hair as well, don’t make me disqualify you!” Scott just sneered at him, but she kept both handfuls of red hair. Olivia was too busy tending to her hurt eye to prevent this, and she was taken for a vicious ride as the Jetsetter hauled her up and then sat out, driving her face-first into the matt.
SITOUT FACEBUSTER
youtu.be/F4vAI8u3FrA
The hasty facebuster wasn’t exactly a knockout shot but it was enough to put a fe stars in Ollie’s eyes. Zoë did her best to take advantage of this, rolling the heavier girl over onto her back and leaning forward to grasp one leg as Merle slid in to count…
ONE
TWnooo
As soon as her senses had recovered from the facebuster-induced shock Barker put two hands on Dubai tits and gave a big heave, sending the Jetsetter backwards and breaking the count. Zoë let out a snarl and leaned forwards to try again, eating an unorthodox but well-aimed kick from the supine redhead.
Rocked back on her haunches, the Dubai Diva could do nothing to prevent her curvy opponent from scrambling around and unleashing another vicious chop SMECKing into her cleavage. And Zoë clearly didn’t want any of this, performing a clumsy backwards roll and trying desperately to get some space again.
She scrabbled to her feet just in time to meet Olivia, who had risen into a three point stance and set off on a headlong charge. Scott was much too late to realise the danger, and as a result she took 124lbs of barrelling redhead square in the tummy. The impact sent her flying backwards to land on her back like a sack of potatoes, Barker sprawling over her and grasping one hamstring to roll her into a pin.
ONE
TWO…
Merles hand was just about to begin it’s third descent when Scott kicked her captured leg hard and punched one shoulder off the matt. In Merle’s excitement he actually missed where that hand went next, forming into a claw and raking back down again over Olivia’s eyes. The Young American abandoned any thoughts of a follow-up pin to tend to those stinging peepers.
With Barker still on her knees, Zoë took the opportunity to finally get a little breathing space and to slow things down. She slid around to the redhead’s six and waited there. Barker stood up and turned around straight into a Balenciaga sneaker which buried in her midriff and doubled her forwards. This left her in perfect position for Zoë to hook a quick front facelock and snap her body backwards.
SNAP DDT
youtu.be/SeJpHJdckoU
The sudden impact dropped Ollie on the crown of her head, and she completed an awkward looking forward roll to end up on her back. Scott seemed to briefly consider another pin, but changed her mind and hopped back to her feet. “I told you there would be consequences, girl!” she hissed.
Olivia was still prone and vulnerable, a tempting target for whatever ‘consequences’ Scott might have had in mind. She dashed off towards the nearest ropes, springing up before she got there and planting both feet squarely on the middle strand. The taut cable twanged down and then catapulted her upwards, performing a neat back somersault and then sending her knees and hips crashing down on top of Barker’s vulnerable chest!
SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT
youtu.be/ThxpvI3gSrk
Forced into an involuntary sit-up by the splash, Barker raised one hand to her crushed cleavage and then dropped to her back again. Zoë was quick to spin around and hook her leg up again, at the same time muttering “stay down” at the hurting redhead. And Merle, diligent as ever, slid in to count…
ONE
TWO
THnnnnnooooo
One strong San Antonian arm punched up off the canvas, causing a relieved cheer from the crowds. It seemed that the Dubai Diva couldn’t quite believe it though, letting out a snarl and yelling “STAY DOWN!”. She dropped an elbow into Ollie’s hurting face and then pressed that shoulder back down again, Merle starting a second count for…
ONE
TWOooooo
This time the kickout had a lot more authority, Barker flopping up onto her side and forcing Zoë to her knees. The brunette looked up at Merle with fury in her eyes, although her voice was more as if she was talking to a very slow child. “The number you are looking for is three, you incompetent loser. Here, I’ll give you one more try”. Scott pushed Barker over onto her back and pressed down once more to count…
ONE
…
Before his hand had even begun to drop a second time Ollie was up, smashing a forearm into Scott’s face and then sitting up to crash another into her chest. The Dubai native looked stunned, giving Barker plenty of time to wind up an even bigger forearm which smashed into Zoë’s sternum and sent her rolling backwards.
Scott ended up spreading out onto her back and had no chance to move before Barker was on her, driving two quick fists into her jaw and then hair-hauling the mewling brunette up to vertical. Zoë showed that surprising ring instinct in bringing a knee up, and it would have slammed into the redhead’s breadbasket if Ollie hadn’t just slapped it back down and smashed yet another chop into Scott’s bountiful décolletage.
“I know you think you’re hot stuff, rich girl” Ollie spoke quickly as she worked, a second chop sending Dubai boobs bouncing. “But there are millions of corner-cutting cheaters in this promotion. Trust me, I’ve met most of them. And the only thing special about you is how big of a chip you’ve got on your shoulders”
With the Oil Baroness suitably cowed, Olivia reached down and grabbed two handfuls of grey briefs, lifting up slightly into a nasty looking wedgie. Zoë let out another squeal but was powerless to do anything as Barker broke one half of her grip and looped the free arm into a guillotine position around the squirming brunette’s neck. With everything secured Ollie showed off her strength, lifting the taller woman up onto her torso and then sitting out to catapult her burden backwards.
GUILLOTINE DROP
youtu.be/i4SKRqctmKE
The back of Zoë’s head slammed into the canvas at full force. She could do little more than reach up to cradle it, preoccupied with shaking the stars out of her vision after such a hellacious head-drop. But worse was to come as Barker, still burning adrenaline, reached down and lifted her back to unsteady legs. “Maybe if you’da stayed in Texas you’d have learned not to talk down to women who can kick your ass.”
This time there was no chance of Scott even thinking of a counter, reduced to just swaying as the redheaded hardbody bent forwards and lifted her into a fireman’s carry. Straightening up, she adjusted her burden to drop a little further down her back, then reached down with one arm to cradle the woozy Brunette’s neck. Ollie paused for a second to acknowledge the roars of approval form the FAWNatics then dropped to her butt, spiking Zoë into the matt.
SAN ANTONIO SPUR
youtu.be/e8RUjNKqxoE
The Oil Baroness rolled bonelessly out of the collusion and sprawled on her back, eyes open but hazy, chest rising for short in-out breaths. She looked like she’d stay there all day if allowed, so Barker rolled over and grabbed her far leg to try her luck…
ONE
TWO
THRnooo
At ringside Isobel Lamont had climbed off her chair and was hurrying over to the ring, but she breathed a sigh of relief when Zoë juuuuuust managed to lift a shoulder up in time. Olivia turned to Merle with three fingers raised, looking shocked when he held up just two in response. She raked a hand through those auburn locks and then settled on a different plan. The rich bytch might be too awake to get pinned, but was she too stubborn to submit?
TO check this Barker stood up but kept a close hold on that captured gam, reaching down to collect the other ankle as well. Threading one her own pale leg between Scott’s tanned pins, she crossed one designer sneaker over the other kept a tight hold as she span through 180 degrees.
Scott had a second to register the danger she was in and start squirming, but it was much too late, as barker simply sat back and threw the full weight of her curvy frame into the Sharpshooter! “YEAH! She yelled to the crowd as Zoë started to squirm and wail in her grasp. “Give it up, trust fund!”
Merle was quickly over too, ducking down so he could be heard. “What do you say, Zoë?” he asked earnestly, “can you continue? Tell me something!” Scott was busy clutching at her lower back, but she spared him an angry glare. “Of…of course I don’t want to submit!” she snarled, the waver in her voice betraying her pain. “Just get…get out of my way…”
Up above Barker was enjoying every second of this, being back on the big FAWN stage with crowds roaring her on as she wrung the quit out of the spoiled brat. “Nowhere to go, baby, just tap out!” she yelled, leaning back a little more and getting an extra yelp from Zoë.
But it didn’t look like Zoë was really trying to get out, beyond a few perfunctory wriggles. Instead she frantically caught the eye of her assistant at ringside. “BEL!” she yelled, “Help me! Use the letter Bethany gave you and HELP MEE!”
Neither Merle nor Olivia seemed to know what she was talking about, but Isobel certainly did. She nodded once, stepped calmly over to the Heiress’s handbag by the announce desk and withdrew a piece of paper. She quickly showed that to both the timekeeper and ring announcer, who stared with bulging eyes as they read its contents. The two men shared a glance and then a shrug, the timekeeper shouting for Merle to come over. Unsurprisingly the referee was still concerned with checking on his charges, Zoë’s movement having stalled a little while ago and her hand starting to flatten in preparation.
Olivia had been oblivious to whatever was going on at ringside, but she saw the referee’s attention getting drawn away from her she suddenly felt worried, craning her neck but unable to see what was going on from her position. She was loathe to give up her hold, particularly since she could feel the quit coming off the stuck brunette, but this bytch was tricky and she didn’t want to be caught unawares.
Ollie released her hold, turning and driving a quick stomp into the base of the Oil Baroness’s hurting spine just to keep her in place. Then she jogged over to where Merle was having an urgent conversation with the ring announcer. She got there in time to hear the referee say “I don’t like this, but it looks official. You’d better make the announcement.”
“What announcement? What’s going on?” Olivia asked, Merle just about to explain when the announcer’s amplified voice beat him to it. “Ladies and gentlemen, by special order of Bethany Christian this match is now a no-disqualification contest!”
The crowd began booing almost immediately, but it took a few seconds for Barker to process what was going on. Then she shouted “WHAT!”, her face incredulous at this turn of events. Merle held both hands out placating.“I know Ollie,” he stammered, “and I’m sorry. But Bethany’s signed the letter and there’s nothing I can do…” Barker still looked shocked for a second, and then WHAM!.
The second the announcer’s voice had died away, Isobel Lamont had clambered up into the ring. With Ollie’s back turned in discussion with the referee, the big blonde had plenty of target to aim at and she used that opportunity to the full. Her thunderous Running Lariat clobbered into the back of Barker’s head and sent the curvy girl flying forwards and down to the matt.
“HEY! What the hell are you…” Merle’s voice was cut off when Zoë’s Fixer shouldered roughly past him and reached down to grab the back of Barker’s one-piece. She lifted the stunned redhead back to her feet with little apparent effort and THWUMPED a Kneelift into her Lonestar-clad tummy, guiding her head down between the blonde’s thick legs. Still ignoring the referee’s shocked whining, Lamont reached down around Olivia’s waist and lifted up again into textbook powerbomb stall position.
But Barker didn’t stay up there for long. Lamont was already pushing her forward as she turned around, slamming the smaller woman down into a vicious shoulder-first impact with the matt. Ollie’s head rocked backwards but Isobel wasn’t done, keeping hold of her grip and heaving upwards again, and straight back down. This second ‘Bomb was just as bad as the first, but there was still more to come as the big blonde lifted up one last time and kneeled out as she threw her insensate package forward.
TRIPLE POWERBOMB
When Lamont finally released her grip Olivia was a complete wreck of her former self, legs spreading out bonelessly, tummy gulping, eyes closed behind the hair which had been thrown into her face. Isobel stood back up, dusted herself off a little, and flicked a quick bird at Merle, who was standing back in stunned silence at the sudden shift in this match.
While all this had been going on Zoë Scott had been lying on the matt, recovering from the aches and pains she received at Barkers hands. But now that her fixer had done her job she rose, storming over and grabbing Merle by the shoulder to spin him around.
She jabbed a finger into his face as she spoke. “You have no more role here except to stay out of my way until I’m ready to finish things. Understand? Good!” She waved a hand at him and stomped over to the corner, holding out a hand to a FAWN tech in a wordless request for a microphone. “The match is still live miss!” he shouted to her, but Scott just turned a glare on him and held out her hand again. Looking slightly worried the man held out a mic and had it snatched straight from his grasps.
Zoë raised the mic to her lips. “Everyone in this building knows you’re seeing a travesty of justice tonight!” She shouted, the crowds agreeing even as they tried to drown her in boos. Scott just nodded along. “As you all know, I should be winning my lightweight title tonight. But instead you poor idiots have to watch a little girl and an old has been thrash around helplessly together.”
“Chloe Fields, I tried to treat you like a grown-up, I tried to make this easy, and you ran away like the little girl you are. So now I’m doing things the way you wanted.” She lowered the microphone a little and snapped her fingers at Bel. The big blonde jumped back into action again, lying down beside Barker’s devastated form looping her neck and shoulder between her arms, and then hauling upwards on those captive bodyparts at a horrific looking angle!
LAMENTATION
youtu.be/GzOqDFL0s8w
Olivia’s eyes snapped open and she immediately began to wail as the torturous hold ravaged her neck and shoulder. Merle bent down and started yelling immediately, but Scott pushed him out of the way as Isobel just pulled back harder. Once she’d stopped the annoying man from interfering Zoë knelt down and held the microphone to the redhead’s lips. Her scream echoed through the speakers and out into the arena, the crowd dropping to a worried hush as it did so.
After a second the mic was back at Scott’s lips. “Apparently you only respond to violence, Chloe. So here’s some for you. If I don’t have a signed contract for a title match at the next pay-per-view, this screaming person won’t be you yet. No, it’ll be one of your friends, those little Upstart losers. And then another, and then another, until you give me what I want.”
Scott dropped the microphone and tapped Bel on the shoulder, her fixer immediately letting go of her submission hold and rolling to her knees. Olivia slumped to her back, coughing and gulping in air as the Dubai Diva knelt over her. She slid her shins backwards, grapevining those sturdy legs, and then leaned forwards a little.
“It’s a shame to do this to a Texas rose” she said into Barker’s heavy lidded eyes, “but I did warn you that I had to make an example. Scott reached down and tugged on her own top, allowing that honey-tanned cleavage to spill out free and earning a cheer from the crowd which had otherwise been full of nothing but boos for the last few minutes. Then she looped one hand behind Ollie’s neck, used the other to grasp her red locks, and dropped her sweaty boobs down to cover the Young American’s face.
Despite her battered state Olivia put up one hell of a struggle, thrashing her arms and trying desperately to turn her head. But Zoë had stuck her hooks in deep and within thirty seconds those brave San-Antonian thrashings had become weak jerks and flutters. Scott could feel hot, heaving breaths on her tits and she held on tight as the brawny redhead finally fell still. And then carried on holding for a little while more.
After a few seconds of stillness Merle tried to step forwards, only for Lamont to get in his way and shove him back. “It’s ok, Bel. He may count her out now.” Zoë called calmly, her ‘assistant ‘ immediately stepping aside and letting the worried man do his job. Everyone in the arena knew what was going to be happen, but he still followed protocol, lifting Olivia’s arm and letting it fall…
ONCE
TWICE
And THREE TIMES
Merle gestured to the timekeeper then immediately tapped Scott on the shoulder. “Let her go, Zoë, you’ve won, the match is over! Scott gave no indication that she had heard, but the referee had heard enough by this point. “I might not be able to disqualify you but I can sure as hell overturn the decision, let her go!”
Zoë dropped the redhead like she was some sort of disgusting insect and jumped to her feet, barrelling into Merle even as she tugged her top back up. “You will not tell me what to do!” she yelled in his face. He just sidestepped her, going to check on the greasy-faced Barker as she went through the final stages of jugg-shock.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer’s voice boomed over the boos. “Your winner, by way of knockout…ZOË SCOTT!” The Oil baroness gave a deep bow, seemingly oblivious to the jeers raining down on her. Then she clicked her fingers at her assistant and sauntered out of the ring, proceeding back up the aisle as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
Bethany Christian pinched the bridge of her nose and tried very hard not to let out a sigh. She was an extraordinarily patient woman, as her enemies in both the boardroom and the ring well knew. But the narcissistic megalomanic who had occupied her office for the last forty minutes was stretching her temper to breaking point.
BETHANY CHRISTIAN
“One has-been midget shows off her O-face in the middle of the ring courtesy of a Korean wannabe sex criminal.” Zoë Scott’s voice was full of artificial confusion, as if she still couldn’t quite believe what she was saying even though she’d spent most of the last month complaining about it. “Then that same night, has-been midget number two gets her ass kicked by the tiny child who somehow ended up as our lightweight champion. Then midget number 1, despite having literally been fucked on live TV a short time beforehand, comes back out and hurts the tiny child a bit..”
ZOË SCOTT
“And here’s where I struggle to understand. Because, despite them both being losers, has-been midget number one’s tiny loser ass is given MY title shot.”
Christian took a deep breath. “Zoë, it wasn’t your title shot. This was the champion’s choice, and she chose someone else…”
“SHE CHOSE A LOSER!” It was rare for the Dubai Diva to lose her temper with someone powerful, she normally saved that for her underlings and lackeys. But those hazel eyes blazed fury right now. “I’ve jumped through your hoops, I’ve proven I’m a god-damn winner. Zoë Scott is the rightful challenger, everyone is saying the best thing that ever happened to FAWN! And I wish you’d try not to scowl when I say that.”
In fact Bethany hadn’t done anything of the sort, nor had she pointed out that Scott was a winner only by virtue of some hairspray to her opponent’s eyes and a massive slice of luck. Zoë was clearly paranoid about this, so Christian stayed quiet as the smaller woman fixed her with a stare. “I did things the way real women should. I treated your tiny little girl champion like a grown up, and I got a childish tantrum in response.”
The irony of talking about childish tantrums wasn’t lost on FAWN’s commissioner, but she kept that to herself as well. “Zoë, I’m sorry things didn’t go your way. I’ll make sure that you are next in line whichever one of them comes out with the belt…”
“I don’t want to be ‘next’. I was born to be first! And that tiny little girl had damn well better win because I’m going to enjoy tanning her hide at the same time as I take away her belt!” Scott paused for a second, and her expression changed completely. “Or maybe I’ll just wait until the bell rings at Summer Swelter and then have Bel introduce that Fields child to my boot. Based on previous experience you’ll be begging me to have a title shot after that, yes?”
Christian stood up slowly and leaned forward, a subtle reminder of the height and power advantage she still possessed from her in-ring days. If Scott was cowed she didn’t show it, still seething on the other side of the mahogany, but it did at least make the exotic girl quieten down for a second.
“We have had months of disrupted main events already, Ms Scott, and you don’t yet have the fan interest Jenny Jacobs had when she did that. Besides which I’d have to fine you” Zoë let out a snort and gave her a sneering glare which made it clear exactly who much she was bothered by that prospect, but she didn’t say anything. After a second Bethany continued.
“You are frustrated, and I can understand why. I will make sure you get the first shot at whoever wins, but in the meantime maybe I can offer you an opportunity to take out some of that frustration.”
This time Zoë’s stare was incredulous. “Are you seriously going to try to palm me off with yet another nobody to beat up?” she scoffed.
“No Zoë, I’m giving you the opportunity to take out your frustrations. We’ll make it someone who’s got pedigree, probably a previous contender for the title so it looks nice and legit. And you get plenty of help so your hands don’t get too dirty. And any time you want, during or after the match, you can get a live mic so that you can tell everyone about how unfairly you’ve been treated.”
Scott looked away, clearly still furious. After a few moments of silence she stood up and leaned in too, her face now only a foot or so away from the FAWN Commissioner’s. “There are a few things I need you to remember, Ms Christian.” There was a clear sneer in her voice under the false politeness. “Number one, I don’t need help to mop up some nobody challenger or anyone else. My time is worth more than they are, but please don’t confuse me for someone who can’t get the job done.”
“Number two, I will beat up whatever loser you’re offering me, but if there isn’t a signed contract for a lightweight title match waiting in my dressing room when I get back there I’m going to be extremely disappointed.”
“And three…” Zoë leaned in further, Christian showing no sign at all of flinching. “Very soon I will be this promotion’s Lightweight Champion. And when I am the champion it will be me who makes the decisions”
The Commissioner didn’t say a thing, although her eyes looked angry. A smile spread across Zoë’s face. “Thank you for your time,” she said, sarcasm ringing in her voice. She backed away a little, still holding the older woman’s gaze, and then turned on her heel and swanned out of the room.
Behind her, Bethany sat back down at her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose again. After a second’s thought she reached for the nearby phone and raised the handset to her ear. “Hello. I’m afraid we’ll need to make some changes to Scott’s match. Draft a letter for her to give the referee if she needs it. And make sure there’s a mic down there waiting for Scott. Probably better get a bit more time set aside for the match too.”
The voice on the end of the line sounded both surprised and somewhat concerned. Bethany listened for a second then interrupted. “Yes, I know none of the paying customers want to hear her talk! But it was the only thing I could offer to get her out of the office. You’ll just have to trigger an ad break as soon as she picks up the mic.”
------------------------------ ------------------------------ ---------
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this next contest will be to one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Please welcome first, from San Antonio, Texas, she stands at five feet and three inches and weighs in tonight at 124lbs…please welcome the forever Young American...OLIVIA BARKER!
Train’s ‘All-American Girl’ rang out through the speakers, causing the audience to rise to their feet and welcome back a favourite. Olivia Barker hadn’t been on a PPV card since her unfortunate loss to her former partner some two years ago, but she was welcomed back with open arms by the raucous crowds.
OLIVIA BARKER
And it was pretty clear to see why! Clad in the San Antonio flag inspired gear she had adopted ever since her split from Polly Lockwood, Ollie was a stunning as ever. Her one piece’s plunging neckline showed off plenty of the buxom cleavage she’d been known for in her younger days, and the Texas lonestar just highlighted that trim midriff and strong, thick body. Her red hair hung down past her shoulders and framed a huge smile which let everyone know just how happy she was to be back on Pay-Per-View.
And she made that doubly clear as soon as she set off for the ring. Almost every fan along the entranceway got their own high five and she made a full trip around the ring to greet even more fans before ascending the steps. She gave a big double handed wave to all sides of the arena, receiving a huge ovation in response, before settling into her corner.
“And her opponent, hailing from Dubai, United Arab Emirates, she stands at five feet and four inches of height and weighs in at 119lbs please welcome…the Jetsetter and…ahem…”
The announcer’s voice paused for a second, and a hurried whisper-conversation could just about be heard through the mic. After a second he came back, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice as he read “The best thing to ever happen to FAWN…ZOË SCOTT!”
Kanye west’s synthesized voice shouted “ALL OF THE LIGHTS!”, the arena illuminations responding by cutting out everything except for a single pure-white spotlight. The Oil Baroness swaggered out onto the stage and into that pool, doing a quick dab and then raising both hands to ‘pop’ her flashbulb sigil just as the lights all roared back into a strobing frenzy.
Scott had opted for her usual gear tonight, her grey Calvin Klein-style sports bra cut low to show off her golden-tanned cleavage and the matching briefs showing off plenty of shapely leg. A pale leather jacket covered part of her torso and her eyes were also obscured behind a pair of massively overside Dior shades. After taking a second to reach down and brush an invisible speck from the Balenciaga race runners gracing her feet the Dubai Diva gave a smirk at the camera and sauntered off towards the ring.
ZOË SCOTT
She took her time climbing the steps and paused again on the apron, theatrically removing both her jacket and shades and handing them off to the side. At this point the lights returned to normal, illuminating the hulking figure of her assistant Isobel. Clad in her usual black strappy top and tight jeans, and with a big black Stetson totally failing to cover up her mass of blonde hair, Lamont took her boss’s accessories silently and tucked them safely on a chair by the announce table, settling next to them without saying a word.
ISOBEL LAMONT
Once she had safely delivered her jacket and hat into the hands of her assistant Zoë turned and completely ignored Merle, waiting patiently in his referee’s stripes, instead making a beeline for Olivia in the far corner. The brunette stepped forward aggressively in response, only for Scott to stop a few feet away, gesture to her hometown-inspired getup and ask, in a southern drawl which was very clearly affected, “You from Texas girl?”
Barker hadn’t expected the question but was happy to answer. “San Antonio born and raised. Texan and proud. You have a problem with that, trust fund?” She pre-empted the response to her own question by jostling forward again, closing to within inches of Scott’s face and ready to begin proceedings at a millisecond’s notice.
But it seemed that Zoë was quite so ready. Stepping back slightly and adopting a mildly offended tone she protested “I was born in Houston and raised to have Texan courtesy. I’da thought someone growing up by the Alamo would know all about that.” She offered a handshake which Ollie, stung to her Lonestar core by the insinuation about her manners, immediately accepted.
“I’m Olivia.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m sure you know who I am, but my assistant Isobel over there’s a Houston girl too.” Zoë glanced over her shoulder and gestured “Bel, where are your manners? Come greet the poor lady”.
Lamont had just settled onto a chair next to the timekeeper, but rose without any indication of complaint and clambered up into the ring. She padded over to Olivia, who was immediately suspicious and then found herself in a handshake so firm she suspected a trap until the big blonde released her, tipped her hat, and left as silently as she had arrived.
Having dealt with her obligation to courtesy Zoë turned to where Merle was still waiting patiently to perform his final checks. He bent to inspect her trainers, only to have a hand grab him by the collar and yank him back to standing.
“Listen Earl, I am not in a good mood. I should be winning the Lightweight Title tonight, but that little baby you call a champion can’t cope with facing a real woman so she’s fighting some dwarf instead. On top of this I had requested a proper referee, but apparently you are the only one available. So, if I get one indication that you’re trying to prolong this farce or give this poor loser a helping hand, my assistant is going to break your arm. Understand?”
“It’s ‘Merle’, miss, and I’ll call it down the line like I always do.” The man’s voice had enough of a tremor to satisfy Zoë that her point had been made, but Olivia was apparently not too happy. “Hey! She just threatened you! Are you going to stand forrrUGGGHHHH!”
Zoë spun 90 degrees and smashed a forearm into the San Antonian’s jaw. “You’ve had your courtesy girl, now you get a choice. Option one is that you lay down and we can get this farce over without wasting my precious time. Option two, I make a goddamn example out of you so that furry-loving midget realises who she’s messing wAAAAGGH”
Barker launched a palm-edge chop SMACKing into the socialite’s cleavage. “If you’da stayed in Texas you might’ve learned to stand up and fight instead of asking others to lie down. And Chloe is my friend and a real champion, you’re the one who should be DAaaH!”
Clearly not in the mood to be lectured on her values, Zoë launched another forearm smash and received another hard chop across her tits in return. The battle was joined without needing any words, the only noise for the next forty seconds or so was the SMECK of arms impacting on torso and the grunts and hisses of pain these caused. And the audience noise began to rise as it looked like Ollie, the brawnier of the two lightweights, was the one making progress.
Then, after a particularly spicy chop from the San Antonian quarter, Zoë stomped off in a little circle trying to get some feeling back into the reddening area around her breastbone. Olivia let out a little whoop at what she perceived as winning their little duel, but it died in her throat when the angry socialite spun back and give a hard double-handed shove. Barker sprawled backwards and found the ropes suddenly there behind her, rebounding with some force into a final, triumphant SMASH from Scott that took her off her feet.
Standing over the downed girl Zoë spread her arms wide and sneered “I’d tell you to get used to this view but I don’t plan on this lasting more than a few minutes. Stay down girl, or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
It was very tempting for Olivia to snark something out in response but instead she showed a lot more focus than her opponent had by swinging out a boot and smacking the brunette in the kneecap. Zoë let out a small involuntary yelp and staggered away, her taunt interrupted. Barker was quick to scramble back to her feet and follow.
She reached her opponent just as the Dubai Diva was turning around and launched a big clothesline which took the slightly lighter woman off her feet. This left her on her back with Barker standing over her, a complete reversal from a few seconds before. But unlike Scotty, the redhead wasn’t one for taunting. Instead she just lifted up her boot and brought it back down, stomping a mudhole in ribs, tits, tummy, and any other body part she could reach!
This time Scott let out a real screech, scrabbling with her hands and kicking her legs out frantically to get away from the San Antonian stomps. She managed to wriggle a short distance, Olivia following her every inch of the way and stomping down on anything she could, until eventually Zoë’s hand closed around the bottom rope. “Get her away from me this instant!” she screamed, Merle quickly complying and sliding a hand between the two grapplers.
Olivia Barker had never been much of a rule breaker, but she was mightily enjoying the feeling of stomping this wannabe Texan into the canvas and she needed a fair bit of persuading to back off. Zoë waved a hand at her, suggesting that she back off even more, continuing to complain to the referee even as she got back to her feet.
Merle stepped back, and Barker charged straight in again, ready to follow u her boots with fists. Unfortunately Zoë didn’t feel quite as happy about this, letting out another yelp and ducking her torso back under the ropes. Merle had no choice but to step back in again and usher Olivia away.
And that meant that he was in the perfect position for Zoë to hide behind. Stepping up behind the harried Zebra she popped an arm over his shoulder and flicked a thumb right into Barker’s right eye! The redhead turned away immediately, trying to preserve her peepers, and Zoë leaped around to follow up by taking a firm hold of those fiery locks.
“Hey! Stay away from her eyes Zoë!” Merle yelled, only just realising what had happened. “Get off her hair as well, don’t make me disqualify you!” Scott just sneered at him, but she kept both handfuls of red hair. Olivia was too busy tending to her hurt eye to prevent this, and she was taken for a vicious ride as the Jetsetter hauled her up and then sat out, driving her face-first into the matt.
SITOUT FACEBUSTER
youtu.be/F4vAI8u3FrA
The hasty facebuster wasn’t exactly a knockout shot but it was enough to put a fe stars in Ollie’s eyes. Zoë did her best to take advantage of this, rolling the heavier girl over onto her back and leaning forward to grasp one leg as Merle slid in to count…
ONE
TWnooo
As soon as her senses had recovered from the facebuster-induced shock Barker put two hands on Dubai tits and gave a big heave, sending the Jetsetter backwards and breaking the count. Zoë let out a snarl and leaned forwards to try again, eating an unorthodox but well-aimed kick from the supine redhead.
Rocked back on her haunches, the Dubai Diva could do nothing to prevent her curvy opponent from scrambling around and unleashing another vicious chop SMECKing into her cleavage. And Zoë clearly didn’t want any of this, performing a clumsy backwards roll and trying desperately to get some space again.
She scrabbled to her feet just in time to meet Olivia, who had risen into a three point stance and set off on a headlong charge. Scott was much too late to realise the danger, and as a result she took 124lbs of barrelling redhead square in the tummy. The impact sent her flying backwards to land on her back like a sack of potatoes, Barker sprawling over her and grasping one hamstring to roll her into a pin.
ONE
TWO…
Merles hand was just about to begin it’s third descent when Scott kicked her captured leg hard and punched one shoulder off the matt. In Merle’s excitement he actually missed where that hand went next, forming into a claw and raking back down again over Olivia’s eyes. The Young American abandoned any thoughts of a follow-up pin to tend to those stinging peepers.
With Barker still on her knees, Zoë took the opportunity to finally get a little breathing space and to slow things down. She slid around to the redhead’s six and waited there. Barker stood up and turned around straight into a Balenciaga sneaker which buried in her midriff and doubled her forwards. This left her in perfect position for Zoë to hook a quick front facelock and snap her body backwards.
SNAP DDT
youtu.be/SeJpHJdckoU
The sudden impact dropped Ollie on the crown of her head, and she completed an awkward looking forward roll to end up on her back. Scott seemed to briefly consider another pin, but changed her mind and hopped back to her feet. “I told you there would be consequences, girl!” she hissed.
Olivia was still prone and vulnerable, a tempting target for whatever ‘consequences’ Scott might have had in mind. She dashed off towards the nearest ropes, springing up before she got there and planting both feet squarely on the middle strand. The taut cable twanged down and then catapulted her upwards, performing a neat back somersault and then sending her knees and hips crashing down on top of Barker’s vulnerable chest!
SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT
youtu.be/ThxpvI3gSrk
Forced into an involuntary sit-up by the splash, Barker raised one hand to her crushed cleavage and then dropped to her back again. Zoë was quick to spin around and hook her leg up again, at the same time muttering “stay down” at the hurting redhead. And Merle, diligent as ever, slid in to count…
ONE
TWO
THnnnnnooooo
One strong San Antonian arm punched up off the canvas, causing a relieved cheer from the crowds. It seemed that the Dubai Diva couldn’t quite believe it though, letting out a snarl and yelling “STAY DOWN!”. She dropped an elbow into Ollie’s hurting face and then pressed that shoulder back down again, Merle starting a second count for…
ONE
TWOooooo
This time the kickout had a lot more authority, Barker flopping up onto her side and forcing Zoë to her knees. The brunette looked up at Merle with fury in her eyes, although her voice was more as if she was talking to a very slow child. “The number you are looking for is three, you incompetent loser. Here, I’ll give you one more try”. Scott pushed Barker over onto her back and pressed down once more to count…
ONE
…
Before his hand had even begun to drop a second time Ollie was up, smashing a forearm into Scott’s face and then sitting up to crash another into her chest. The Dubai native looked stunned, giving Barker plenty of time to wind up an even bigger forearm which smashed into Zoë’s sternum and sent her rolling backwards.
Scott ended up spreading out onto her back and had no chance to move before Barker was on her, driving two quick fists into her jaw and then hair-hauling the mewling brunette up to vertical. Zoë showed that surprising ring instinct in bringing a knee up, and it would have slammed into the redhead’s breadbasket if Ollie hadn’t just slapped it back down and smashed yet another chop into Scott’s bountiful décolletage.
“I know you think you’re hot stuff, rich girl” Ollie spoke quickly as she worked, a second chop sending Dubai boobs bouncing. “But there are millions of corner-cutting cheaters in this promotion. Trust me, I’ve met most of them. And the only thing special about you is how big of a chip you’ve got on your shoulders”
With the Oil Baroness suitably cowed, Olivia reached down and grabbed two handfuls of grey briefs, lifting up slightly into a nasty looking wedgie. Zoë let out another squeal but was powerless to do anything as Barker broke one half of her grip and looped the free arm into a guillotine position around the squirming brunette’s neck. With everything secured Ollie showed off her strength, lifting the taller woman up onto her torso and then sitting out to catapult her burden backwards.
GUILLOTINE DROP
youtu.be/i4SKRqctmKE
The back of Zoë’s head slammed into the canvas at full force. She could do little more than reach up to cradle it, preoccupied with shaking the stars out of her vision after such a hellacious head-drop. But worse was to come as Barker, still burning adrenaline, reached down and lifted her back to unsteady legs. “Maybe if you’da stayed in Texas you’d have learned not to talk down to women who can kick your ass.”
This time there was no chance of Scott even thinking of a counter, reduced to just swaying as the redheaded hardbody bent forwards and lifted her into a fireman’s carry. Straightening up, she adjusted her burden to drop a little further down her back, then reached down with one arm to cradle the woozy Brunette’s neck. Ollie paused for a second to acknowledge the roars of approval form the FAWNatics then dropped to her butt, spiking Zoë into the matt.
SAN ANTONIO SPUR
youtu.be/e8RUjNKqxoE
The Oil Baroness rolled bonelessly out of the collusion and sprawled on her back, eyes open but hazy, chest rising for short in-out breaths. She looked like she’d stay there all day if allowed, so Barker rolled over and grabbed her far leg to try her luck…
ONE
TWO
THRnooo
At ringside Isobel Lamont had climbed off her chair and was hurrying over to the ring, but she breathed a sigh of relief when Zoë juuuuuust managed to lift a shoulder up in time. Olivia turned to Merle with three fingers raised, looking shocked when he held up just two in response. She raked a hand through those auburn locks and then settled on a different plan. The rich bytch might be too awake to get pinned, but was she too stubborn to submit?
TO check this Barker stood up but kept a close hold on that captured gam, reaching down to collect the other ankle as well. Threading one her own pale leg between Scott’s tanned pins, she crossed one designer sneaker over the other kept a tight hold as she span through 180 degrees.
Scott had a second to register the danger she was in and start squirming, but it was much too late, as barker simply sat back and threw the full weight of her curvy frame into the Sharpshooter! “YEAH! She yelled to the crowd as Zoë started to squirm and wail in her grasp. “Give it up, trust fund!”
Merle was quickly over too, ducking down so he could be heard. “What do you say, Zoë?” he asked earnestly, “can you continue? Tell me something!” Scott was busy clutching at her lower back, but she spared him an angry glare. “Of…of course I don’t want to submit!” she snarled, the waver in her voice betraying her pain. “Just get…get out of my way…”
Up above Barker was enjoying every second of this, being back on the big FAWN stage with crowds roaring her on as she wrung the quit out of the spoiled brat. “Nowhere to go, baby, just tap out!” she yelled, leaning back a little more and getting an extra yelp from Zoë.
But it didn’t look like Zoë was really trying to get out, beyond a few perfunctory wriggles. Instead she frantically caught the eye of her assistant at ringside. “BEL!” she yelled, “Help me! Use the letter Bethany gave you and HELP MEE!”
Neither Merle nor Olivia seemed to know what she was talking about, but Isobel certainly did. She nodded once, stepped calmly over to the Heiress’s handbag by the announce desk and withdrew a piece of paper. She quickly showed that to both the timekeeper and ring announcer, who stared with bulging eyes as they read its contents. The two men shared a glance and then a shrug, the timekeeper shouting for Merle to come over. Unsurprisingly the referee was still concerned with checking on his charges, Zoë’s movement having stalled a little while ago and her hand starting to flatten in preparation.
Olivia had been oblivious to whatever was going on at ringside, but she saw the referee’s attention getting drawn away from her she suddenly felt worried, craning her neck but unable to see what was going on from her position. She was loathe to give up her hold, particularly since she could feel the quit coming off the stuck brunette, but this bytch was tricky and she didn’t want to be caught unawares.
Ollie released her hold, turning and driving a quick stomp into the base of the Oil Baroness’s hurting spine just to keep her in place. Then she jogged over to where Merle was having an urgent conversation with the ring announcer. She got there in time to hear the referee say “I don’t like this, but it looks official. You’d better make the announcement.”
“What announcement? What’s going on?” Olivia asked, Merle just about to explain when the announcer’s amplified voice beat him to it. “Ladies and gentlemen, by special order of Bethany Christian this match is now a no-disqualification contest!”
The crowd began booing almost immediately, but it took a few seconds for Barker to process what was going on. Then she shouted “WHAT!”, her face incredulous at this turn of events. Merle held both hands out placating.“I know Ollie,” he stammered, “and I’m sorry. But Bethany’s signed the letter and there’s nothing I can do…” Barker still looked shocked for a second, and then WHAM!.
The second the announcer’s voice had died away, Isobel Lamont had clambered up into the ring. With Ollie’s back turned in discussion with the referee, the big blonde had plenty of target to aim at and she used that opportunity to the full. Her thunderous Running Lariat clobbered into the back of Barker’s head and sent the curvy girl flying forwards and down to the matt.
“HEY! What the hell are you…” Merle’s voice was cut off when Zoë’s Fixer shouldered roughly past him and reached down to grab the back of Barker’s one-piece. She lifted the stunned redhead back to her feet with little apparent effort and THWUMPED a Kneelift into her Lonestar-clad tummy, guiding her head down between the blonde’s thick legs. Still ignoring the referee’s shocked whining, Lamont reached down around Olivia’s waist and lifted up again into textbook powerbomb stall position.
But Barker didn’t stay up there for long. Lamont was already pushing her forward as she turned around, slamming the smaller woman down into a vicious shoulder-first impact with the matt. Ollie’s head rocked backwards but Isobel wasn’t done, keeping hold of her grip and heaving upwards again, and straight back down. This second ‘Bomb was just as bad as the first, but there was still more to come as the big blonde lifted up one last time and kneeled out as she threw her insensate package forward.
TRIPLE POWERBOMB
When Lamont finally released her grip Olivia was a complete wreck of her former self, legs spreading out bonelessly, tummy gulping, eyes closed behind the hair which had been thrown into her face. Isobel stood back up, dusted herself off a little, and flicked a quick bird at Merle, who was standing back in stunned silence at the sudden shift in this match.
While all this had been going on Zoë Scott had been lying on the matt, recovering from the aches and pains she received at Barkers hands. But now that her fixer had done her job she rose, storming over and grabbing Merle by the shoulder to spin him around.
She jabbed a finger into his face as she spoke. “You have no more role here except to stay out of my way until I’m ready to finish things. Understand? Good!” She waved a hand at him and stomped over to the corner, holding out a hand to a FAWN tech in a wordless request for a microphone. “The match is still live miss!” he shouted to her, but Scott just turned a glare on him and held out her hand again. Looking slightly worried the man held out a mic and had it snatched straight from his grasps.
Zoë raised the mic to her lips. “Everyone in this building knows you’re seeing a travesty of justice tonight!” She shouted, the crowds agreeing even as they tried to drown her in boos. Scott just nodded along. “As you all know, I should be winning my lightweight title tonight. But instead you poor idiots have to watch a little girl and an old has been thrash around helplessly together.”
“Chloe Fields, I tried to treat you like a grown-up, I tried to make this easy, and you ran away like the little girl you are. So now I’m doing things the way you wanted.” She lowered the microphone a little and snapped her fingers at Bel. The big blonde jumped back into action again, lying down beside Barker’s devastated form looping her neck and shoulder between her arms, and then hauling upwards on those captive bodyparts at a horrific looking angle!
LAMENTATION
youtu.be/GzOqDFL0s8w
Olivia’s eyes snapped open and she immediately began to wail as the torturous hold ravaged her neck and shoulder. Merle bent down and started yelling immediately, but Scott pushed him out of the way as Isobel just pulled back harder. Once she’d stopped the annoying man from interfering Zoë knelt down and held the microphone to the redhead’s lips. Her scream echoed through the speakers and out into the arena, the crowd dropping to a worried hush as it did so.
After a second the mic was back at Scott’s lips. “Apparently you only respond to violence, Chloe. So here’s some for you. If I don’t have a signed contract for a title match at the next pay-per-view, this screaming person won’t be you yet. No, it’ll be one of your friends, those little Upstart losers. And then another, and then another, until you give me what I want.”
Scott dropped the microphone and tapped Bel on the shoulder, her fixer immediately letting go of her submission hold and rolling to her knees. Olivia slumped to her back, coughing and gulping in air as the Dubai Diva knelt over her. She slid her shins backwards, grapevining those sturdy legs, and then leaned forwards a little.
“It’s a shame to do this to a Texas rose” she said into Barker’s heavy lidded eyes, “but I did warn you that I had to make an example. Scott reached down and tugged on her own top, allowing that honey-tanned cleavage to spill out free and earning a cheer from the crowd which had otherwise been full of nothing but boos for the last few minutes. Then she looped one hand behind Ollie’s neck, used the other to grasp her red locks, and dropped her sweaty boobs down to cover the Young American’s face.
Despite her battered state Olivia put up one hell of a struggle, thrashing her arms and trying desperately to turn her head. But Zoë had stuck her hooks in deep and within thirty seconds those brave San-Antonian thrashings had become weak jerks and flutters. Scott could feel hot, heaving breaths on her tits and she held on tight as the brawny redhead finally fell still. And then carried on holding for a little while more.
After a few seconds of stillness Merle tried to step forwards, only for Lamont to get in his way and shove him back. “It’s ok, Bel. He may count her out now.” Zoë called calmly, her ‘assistant ‘ immediately stepping aside and letting the worried man do his job. Everyone in the arena knew what was going to be happen, but he still followed protocol, lifting Olivia’s arm and letting it fall…
ONCE
TWICE
And THREE TIMES
Merle gestured to the timekeeper then immediately tapped Scott on the shoulder. “Let her go, Zoë, you’ve won, the match is over! Scott gave no indication that she had heard, but the referee had heard enough by this point. “I might not be able to disqualify you but I can sure as hell overturn the decision, let her go!”
Zoë dropped the redhead like she was some sort of disgusting insect and jumped to her feet, barrelling into Merle even as she tugged her top back up. “You will not tell me what to do!” she yelled in his face. He just sidestepped her, going to check on the greasy-faced Barker as she went through the final stages of jugg-shock.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer’s voice boomed over the boos. “Your winner, by way of knockout…ZOË SCOTT!” The Oil baroness gave a deep bow, seemingly oblivious to the jeers raining down on her. Then she clicked her fingers at her assistant and sauntered out of the ring, proceeding back up the aisle as if she didn’t have a care in the world.