Post by therjdt on Sept 1, 2017 22:37:06 GMT
The Left Turn at Albuquerque had experienced a bit of a downturn in fortunes in recent months as FAWN’s developmental Desert Divas had largely graduated either to the Jungle or to the big league of the promotion. But tonight those faithful fans in the area were being rewarded with a house show card featuring some of their most loved (and most hated) wrestlers who’d made their names right here in the building.
The show had opened up hot with the Surf Sisters putting on a clinic to overcome the Nightmare Children, a match which had decided the promotion’s tag titles a few years ago before both moved on to higher things. A dominant showing by Lark Russell over Gwen Morgan had come next, and then the Geek Squad had narrowly fallen to the recently returned War Party and their Uprising finisher.
The faithful had been promised a faceoff between past and future as Dirty Shannen Dennehy took on her niece Deidra at the top of the card. For many though the real main event would be another sight of the local-girl-made-good Charlie Dawson, rumoured to be facing Lyssa Zahn, arguably the Desert’s most successful export. But just beneath them on the bill was a showpiece submission match featuring two more high-profile alumni; Olivia Barker and Lady Lydia Lethbridge.
OLIVIA BARKER
LYDIA LETHBRIDGE
Both ladies had made recent re-emergences into FAWN itself, and both had come up sadly short. Ollie had the tougher experience, taking on Zoe Scott in what quickly became a handicap match and falling victim to the Oil Baroness’s henchwoman to end up smothered and covered. By contrast Lydia’s loss had been totally clean, the exciting Soshana Soto showing too much spark for the veteran Brit.
The match so far had been a study in contrasting responses to loss. Barker was certainly the more high profile grappler, the former tag champ’s boasting a strong FAWN pedigree and a relative advantage in size and strength. But while she seemed relatively downhearted at the cruel hand fortune had dealt her recently, the aristocrat was absolutely seething, and took all that frustration out on the former Young American.
This began before the opening bell with a furious ringside attack involving Lethbridge stomping Ollie’s pretty face into the ringside matting and repeatedly ramming the edge of a chair into both ankles. Barker had shown great fighting spirit to turn the tables, driving her ladyship’s head into a ringpost and then rolling her into the ring to finally start the match.
Once the match had officially begun Barker seemed keen to demonstrate her strength advantage, the curvy little redhead tossing Lydia up for a big Fireman’s Carry Gutbuster and then a flawlessly delivered gutwrench suplex which had left the Blue Blood gasping. But the Lethbridge family has long been known for its ability to find success by any means necessary and an extremely sneaky ‘accidental’ low headbutt to the crotch was enough to turn the tables back towards the Lady.
Ruthlessly, Lydia had focussed on Barker’s legs and ankles, first dropping her for consecutive shinbreakers and then pinning the squealing redhead to the matt with twin Hamstring Claws causing agonising cramps in her gams. Ollie eventually managed to roll over and get a brief respite from her tormentress, but Lethbridge delivered a series of brutal stomps to one ankle and then wrapped the other around the ropes, nearly dislocating the bones before the referees count backed her off.
“Ollie, you look awful beat up, are you able to continue?” He asked, concern etched in his face. Barker had to blink tears out of her red-rimmed eyes but she offered him a nod and a little grimace which looked like determination. That quickly changed to pain when she stood up, those previously strong legs now looking as wobbly as a newborn deer.
Despite the hurt Barker stepped forwards, arms up looking for a collar-and-elbow. Lethbridge joined quickly and made the most of her opponent’s diminished strength, dragging the hurting Texan into a tight headlock. Ollie set her legs and tried her best to jerk free, but all this earned was the rough sensation of her face grinding against the Blue Blood’s straining bustier.
“I assume you’ve developed a taste for tits on your face after that last trip to Orlando,” Lethbridge sneered. “I’ll allow you to take that trip into darkness again but only once you’ve been a good little trollop and screamed your submission to meOOOOOW BYTCH!”
Not wanting to listen to any more bile from the Brit’s mouth, Ollie gave a big yank on brunette hair and jerked herself backwards, earning her freedom and a screech from Lethbridge. Making the most of her newfound freedom she hooked in a tight headlock of her own, smiling along with the crowd jeers as she treated Lydia’s face to a good scrubbing from her own gurls.
A knelift to the Brit’s stomach kept her bent forwards and Ollie took great joy in keeping the enforced motorboat going a good deal longer. “How do you like it posh girl!” she yelled to almost universal crowd approval. In fact she was having so much fun scrubbing the snark off the Blue Blood’s face that she failed to notice one black boot raising up and STOMPING down onto her damaged ankle.
A wounded howl escaped Barker’s lips and she dropped sideways to the matt, all thoughts of offence abandoned as she cradled the throbbing joint. Lydia was angered beyond words by the low-born oaf’s treatment, but she knew just the way to take that anger out.
Snatching one of the redhead’s feet, Lethbridge twisted it cruelly at an angle and then jammed it between her legs. Ollie immediately began to moan, but the pitch only increased as Lydia grabbed her other foot and forced it in the opposite direction, stretching her body out so that Barker was trapped in the agonizing double-hell of the Lethbridge Lock!
LETHBRIDGE LOCK
The screams coming from the Young American were almost ungodly, and the referee was over in a trice. “Olivia, do you want to submit!” he yelled, barely able to make himself heard over the noise. Barker jammed one elbow pad into her mouth, biting down the pain as much as she could as the other hand frantically waggled no.
“Give up! Give up like the horrible common whore you are!” Lethbridge screamed down at her. Ollie’s hand went tearing at her own hair, pulling at her one-piece, anything to distract from the pain. Tears welled in her eyes, and finally after a particularly vicious jostle from her ladyship the floodgates burst.
“I SUBMIT! I SUBMIT” Ollie yelled over and over, both palms frantically tapping out on the mat, her own stomach, and anything else they could reach. The referee was up and shouting almost immediately, but Lethbridge showed no sign of letting up until the bell had rung, then she gave one last vicious jerk, earning a final caterwaul from the bawling Texan, before disengaging.
The referee had come back over to raise Lydia’s hand, but the aristocrat didn’t seem in the slightest bit interested. Instead she scrambled over to where Barker was still whimpering and wailing and stuffed the redhead’s face into the sweaty cavern of her corset-enhanced cleavage.
“Did you enjoy your little moment of rebellion, trollop?” Lydia sneered. “Happy to shove those vile udders in my face? Time for you to learn what happens when you disrespect your betters!” Any response Olivia offered was lost in the fleshy embrace, but the referee’s yelling in her ear was far louder. “Let her go Lydia, you have till five before I over turn the…”
“I have a counter offer,” Lethbridge glared up at him even as her hands pressed Ollie’s rapidly reddening face to her bosom. “Fetch me a microphone in the next five seconds and maybe I’ll let go before the worthless commoner croaks.”
Immediately the man was gesturing to a FAWN tech, and sure enough a live mic was produced within seconds. Lydia held on considerably longer, but eventually she allowed the Texan’s sweaty features to flop away from her breasts and knelt up. A quick adjustment of her top brought even more boos from the already jeering audience, but she raised the mic to her lips undeterred and…
”A friend in need’s a friend indeed”
PURE MORNING www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHQngnnHE_0
After a few confused seconds most of the small venue’s crowd had turned in the direction of the entranceway where the music seemed to be coming from. The source pretty quickly became apparent when a waif-life figure swanned out through the curtain with an almost comically huge 80s-style boombox over one shoulder. The tune pumping out was 90s alt-rock, and to confuse things even further the girl carrying it was dancing slowly to a beat only she could hear, which seemed closer to a classical waltz than teen angst indie.
LYRA FAULK
Lethbridge looked utterly confused. Most of the crowds carried on staring too, probably because at that moment the girl turned and gave them all a likely unintentional flash of a pale but perfectly formed derriere, barely covered by sparkly green hotpants. The brunette’s top was pretty eye catching too, sheer meshing leaving her lacy black bra clearly visible.
A loud ‘THWUMP’ from the ring had every head snapping back round on a swivel. In the confusion at the first girl’s entrance a second young woman had turned up. This one had clearly hopped over the barrier and up into the ring, and she charged from behind Lethbridge while the aristocrat was still staring at the ring. A high-velocity Big Boot drove the unsuspecting fireplug down hard to the canvas, but in seconds she was hauled back up again, Lydia as shocked as the rest of the crowd and unable to resist.
HARRIET LARKIN
The redheaded newcomer worked quickly, pulling the shorter woman’s head down and then hooking both the Brit’s arms up across her back. There was a slight pause, long enough for Lethbridge to start jerking futilely and for the crowd to take in the odd double-chevrons of paint over the new girl’s left eye. Then the stillness was broken, Larkin snapping to her back and SPIKING Lydia’s head almost through the canvas-covered plywood.
FALLS THE SHADOW www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyvtF48BHjA
Flopping over into a boneless somersault Lethbridge spread out onto her back, eyes open but gazing vacantly up into the lights above the ring. Another roar came from the audience, but she simply had too much fog in her brain to register anything. Which was a great shame for her, as Lyra had abandoned her boombox, sprinted to the ring and bounced high off the ropes to drop her leg down hard on the aristocrat’s throat.
FLIPPING LEGDROP www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tdJa7V8rsk
Her Ladyship spasmed up to sitting for a second and then rolled back prone again, shellshocked by the lightning fast assault. Above her the two interlopers came together in a quick but surprisingly handsy hug and then a kiss which was considerably longer, the crowd volume increasing for every second they lingered. Eventually Lyra pulled away and turned her head towards the pair’s victim, drawing a disappointed jeer from their audience and a slight frown of annoyance from Larkin.
“Can we fuck off now please? You know how I feel about New Mexico.” There was a nervous edge to Harriet’s voice and in her stance, although it calmed when Faulk absently laid a soothing hand on her cheek. “Don’t worry darl, we’ll be in Florida before you know it,” Lyra’s soft Aussie tone was hard to make out amongst the still-raucous crowd. “I just wanna get a quick look, ‘kay?” As she spoke she scrambled off, dropping to crawl over Lethbridge’s gulping torso.
She only had about ten seconds before Harriet decided it was time to hurry things along. “So who is she?” the redhead asked disinterestedly, scanning ringside. Faulk answered without looking up.
“Lady Lydia Lethbridge, 5’2” 117lbs. Recently appeared on the road in the big show, but that delightful arse was beaten flat by a rookie, which is probably why she’s back here. Logic dictates that she’s going to be back th…”
“Sucks for her. Shall we see if she’s hollow?”
Still focussed on Lethbridge’s vacant face, Lyra thought for a second then flashed her ‘friend’ a thumbs up. “This is the way your world ends, Lydia Lethbridge,” she murmured to the Brit, smile widening as those long eyelashes batted. “Not with a bang.”
She sat back on her haunches as Larkin’s hand came down and grabbed a handful of aristocratic hair. While the bigger woman dragged Lethbridge to unsteady feet Lyra swanned over to the nearest ropes, slipping neatly to the apron. Harriet hooked her own arms under Lydia’s, spun them both through opposing half-circles, and then lifted her ladyship up onto her back in a classic Gory Special.
The motion of lifting the dazed heiress into such an awkward position raised the crowd’s interest a few notches more, probably because the forced arch in Lethbridge’s spine caused a significant conflict between the corset top and her not insubstantial bosom. Faulk seemed to have noticed too, particularly when Lydia started weakly wriggling in the hold, and she was leaning forwards to get a closer look until Harriet glanced up and raised an eyebrow at her.
Wardrobe malfunction may have been on the audience’s mind at the start of the sequence but they quickly got something even more impressive when Lyra sprang to the top rope and used it to fling herself into an arcing somersault over her partner. At the apex of the leap she wrapped her hands around Lethbridge’s lolling noggin. The aristocrat’s pretty face was snapped down into the mat from a considerable height, sending her into a semiconscious dreamland and the crowd into a mixture of appreciative and sympathetic oooohs.
WHIMPER www.reddit.com/r/SquaredCircle/comments/6oo4m1/ccks_inkbomb/
Rolling gracefully to her feet, Faulk glanced down at the pile of blue-blooded wreckage and pouted at her partner. “I’m done now darl. And you still haven’t taken me to Disney World…” her voice was suddenly much more childlike than it had been previously.
“Anywhere but fucking here,” Larkin muttered, taking Lyra’s outstretched hand and leading her over to the ropes and out up the ramp.
The show had opened up hot with the Surf Sisters putting on a clinic to overcome the Nightmare Children, a match which had decided the promotion’s tag titles a few years ago before both moved on to higher things. A dominant showing by Lark Russell over Gwen Morgan had come next, and then the Geek Squad had narrowly fallen to the recently returned War Party and their Uprising finisher.
The faithful had been promised a faceoff between past and future as Dirty Shannen Dennehy took on her niece Deidra at the top of the card. For many though the real main event would be another sight of the local-girl-made-good Charlie Dawson, rumoured to be facing Lyssa Zahn, arguably the Desert’s most successful export. But just beneath them on the bill was a showpiece submission match featuring two more high-profile alumni; Olivia Barker and Lady Lydia Lethbridge.
OLIVIA BARKER
LYDIA LETHBRIDGE
Both ladies had made recent re-emergences into FAWN itself, and both had come up sadly short. Ollie had the tougher experience, taking on Zoe Scott in what quickly became a handicap match and falling victim to the Oil Baroness’s henchwoman to end up smothered and covered. By contrast Lydia’s loss had been totally clean, the exciting Soshana Soto showing too much spark for the veteran Brit.
The match so far had been a study in contrasting responses to loss. Barker was certainly the more high profile grappler, the former tag champ’s boasting a strong FAWN pedigree and a relative advantage in size and strength. But while she seemed relatively downhearted at the cruel hand fortune had dealt her recently, the aristocrat was absolutely seething, and took all that frustration out on the former Young American.
This began before the opening bell with a furious ringside attack involving Lethbridge stomping Ollie’s pretty face into the ringside matting and repeatedly ramming the edge of a chair into both ankles. Barker had shown great fighting spirit to turn the tables, driving her ladyship’s head into a ringpost and then rolling her into the ring to finally start the match.
Once the match had officially begun Barker seemed keen to demonstrate her strength advantage, the curvy little redhead tossing Lydia up for a big Fireman’s Carry Gutbuster and then a flawlessly delivered gutwrench suplex which had left the Blue Blood gasping. But the Lethbridge family has long been known for its ability to find success by any means necessary and an extremely sneaky ‘accidental’ low headbutt to the crotch was enough to turn the tables back towards the Lady.
Ruthlessly, Lydia had focussed on Barker’s legs and ankles, first dropping her for consecutive shinbreakers and then pinning the squealing redhead to the matt with twin Hamstring Claws causing agonising cramps in her gams. Ollie eventually managed to roll over and get a brief respite from her tormentress, but Lethbridge delivered a series of brutal stomps to one ankle and then wrapped the other around the ropes, nearly dislocating the bones before the referees count backed her off.
“Ollie, you look awful beat up, are you able to continue?” He asked, concern etched in his face. Barker had to blink tears out of her red-rimmed eyes but she offered him a nod and a little grimace which looked like determination. That quickly changed to pain when she stood up, those previously strong legs now looking as wobbly as a newborn deer.
Despite the hurt Barker stepped forwards, arms up looking for a collar-and-elbow. Lethbridge joined quickly and made the most of her opponent’s diminished strength, dragging the hurting Texan into a tight headlock. Ollie set her legs and tried her best to jerk free, but all this earned was the rough sensation of her face grinding against the Blue Blood’s straining bustier.
“I assume you’ve developed a taste for tits on your face after that last trip to Orlando,” Lethbridge sneered. “I’ll allow you to take that trip into darkness again but only once you’ve been a good little trollop and screamed your submission to meOOOOOW BYTCH!”
Not wanting to listen to any more bile from the Brit’s mouth, Ollie gave a big yank on brunette hair and jerked herself backwards, earning her freedom and a screech from Lethbridge. Making the most of her newfound freedom she hooked in a tight headlock of her own, smiling along with the crowd jeers as she treated Lydia’s face to a good scrubbing from her own gurls.
A knelift to the Brit’s stomach kept her bent forwards and Ollie took great joy in keeping the enforced motorboat going a good deal longer. “How do you like it posh girl!” she yelled to almost universal crowd approval. In fact she was having so much fun scrubbing the snark off the Blue Blood’s face that she failed to notice one black boot raising up and STOMPING down onto her damaged ankle.
A wounded howl escaped Barker’s lips and she dropped sideways to the matt, all thoughts of offence abandoned as she cradled the throbbing joint. Lydia was angered beyond words by the low-born oaf’s treatment, but she knew just the way to take that anger out.
Snatching one of the redhead’s feet, Lethbridge twisted it cruelly at an angle and then jammed it between her legs. Ollie immediately began to moan, but the pitch only increased as Lydia grabbed her other foot and forced it in the opposite direction, stretching her body out so that Barker was trapped in the agonizing double-hell of the Lethbridge Lock!
LETHBRIDGE LOCK
The screams coming from the Young American were almost ungodly, and the referee was over in a trice. “Olivia, do you want to submit!” he yelled, barely able to make himself heard over the noise. Barker jammed one elbow pad into her mouth, biting down the pain as much as she could as the other hand frantically waggled no.
“Give up! Give up like the horrible common whore you are!” Lethbridge screamed down at her. Ollie’s hand went tearing at her own hair, pulling at her one-piece, anything to distract from the pain. Tears welled in her eyes, and finally after a particularly vicious jostle from her ladyship the floodgates burst.
“I SUBMIT! I SUBMIT” Ollie yelled over and over, both palms frantically tapping out on the mat, her own stomach, and anything else they could reach. The referee was up and shouting almost immediately, but Lethbridge showed no sign of letting up until the bell had rung, then she gave one last vicious jerk, earning a final caterwaul from the bawling Texan, before disengaging.
The referee had come back over to raise Lydia’s hand, but the aristocrat didn’t seem in the slightest bit interested. Instead she scrambled over to where Barker was still whimpering and wailing and stuffed the redhead’s face into the sweaty cavern of her corset-enhanced cleavage.
“Did you enjoy your little moment of rebellion, trollop?” Lydia sneered. “Happy to shove those vile udders in my face? Time for you to learn what happens when you disrespect your betters!” Any response Olivia offered was lost in the fleshy embrace, but the referee’s yelling in her ear was far louder. “Let her go Lydia, you have till five before I over turn the…”
“I have a counter offer,” Lethbridge glared up at him even as her hands pressed Ollie’s rapidly reddening face to her bosom. “Fetch me a microphone in the next five seconds and maybe I’ll let go before the worthless commoner croaks.”
Immediately the man was gesturing to a FAWN tech, and sure enough a live mic was produced within seconds. Lydia held on considerably longer, but eventually she allowed the Texan’s sweaty features to flop away from her breasts and knelt up. A quick adjustment of her top brought even more boos from the already jeering audience, but she raised the mic to her lips undeterred and…
”A friend in need’s a friend indeed”
PURE MORNING www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHQngnnHE_0
After a few confused seconds most of the small venue’s crowd had turned in the direction of the entranceway where the music seemed to be coming from. The source pretty quickly became apparent when a waif-life figure swanned out through the curtain with an almost comically huge 80s-style boombox over one shoulder. The tune pumping out was 90s alt-rock, and to confuse things even further the girl carrying it was dancing slowly to a beat only she could hear, which seemed closer to a classical waltz than teen angst indie.
LYRA FAULK
Lethbridge looked utterly confused. Most of the crowds carried on staring too, probably because at that moment the girl turned and gave them all a likely unintentional flash of a pale but perfectly formed derriere, barely covered by sparkly green hotpants. The brunette’s top was pretty eye catching too, sheer meshing leaving her lacy black bra clearly visible.
A loud ‘THWUMP’ from the ring had every head snapping back round on a swivel. In the confusion at the first girl’s entrance a second young woman had turned up. This one had clearly hopped over the barrier and up into the ring, and she charged from behind Lethbridge while the aristocrat was still staring at the ring. A high-velocity Big Boot drove the unsuspecting fireplug down hard to the canvas, but in seconds she was hauled back up again, Lydia as shocked as the rest of the crowd and unable to resist.
HARRIET LARKIN
The redheaded newcomer worked quickly, pulling the shorter woman’s head down and then hooking both the Brit’s arms up across her back. There was a slight pause, long enough for Lethbridge to start jerking futilely and for the crowd to take in the odd double-chevrons of paint over the new girl’s left eye. Then the stillness was broken, Larkin snapping to her back and SPIKING Lydia’s head almost through the canvas-covered plywood.
FALLS THE SHADOW www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyvtF48BHjA
Flopping over into a boneless somersault Lethbridge spread out onto her back, eyes open but gazing vacantly up into the lights above the ring. Another roar came from the audience, but she simply had too much fog in her brain to register anything. Which was a great shame for her, as Lyra had abandoned her boombox, sprinted to the ring and bounced high off the ropes to drop her leg down hard on the aristocrat’s throat.
FLIPPING LEGDROP www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tdJa7V8rsk
Her Ladyship spasmed up to sitting for a second and then rolled back prone again, shellshocked by the lightning fast assault. Above her the two interlopers came together in a quick but surprisingly handsy hug and then a kiss which was considerably longer, the crowd volume increasing for every second they lingered. Eventually Lyra pulled away and turned her head towards the pair’s victim, drawing a disappointed jeer from their audience and a slight frown of annoyance from Larkin.
“Can we fuck off now please? You know how I feel about New Mexico.” There was a nervous edge to Harriet’s voice and in her stance, although it calmed when Faulk absently laid a soothing hand on her cheek. “Don’t worry darl, we’ll be in Florida before you know it,” Lyra’s soft Aussie tone was hard to make out amongst the still-raucous crowd. “I just wanna get a quick look, ‘kay?” As she spoke she scrambled off, dropping to crawl over Lethbridge’s gulping torso.
She only had about ten seconds before Harriet decided it was time to hurry things along. “So who is she?” the redhead asked disinterestedly, scanning ringside. Faulk answered without looking up.
“Lady Lydia Lethbridge, 5’2” 117lbs. Recently appeared on the road in the big show, but that delightful arse was beaten flat by a rookie, which is probably why she’s back here. Logic dictates that she’s going to be back th…”
“Sucks for her. Shall we see if she’s hollow?”
Still focussed on Lethbridge’s vacant face, Lyra thought for a second then flashed her ‘friend’ a thumbs up. “This is the way your world ends, Lydia Lethbridge,” she murmured to the Brit, smile widening as those long eyelashes batted. “Not with a bang.”
She sat back on her haunches as Larkin’s hand came down and grabbed a handful of aristocratic hair. While the bigger woman dragged Lethbridge to unsteady feet Lyra swanned over to the nearest ropes, slipping neatly to the apron. Harriet hooked her own arms under Lydia’s, spun them both through opposing half-circles, and then lifted her ladyship up onto her back in a classic Gory Special.
The motion of lifting the dazed heiress into such an awkward position raised the crowd’s interest a few notches more, probably because the forced arch in Lethbridge’s spine caused a significant conflict between the corset top and her not insubstantial bosom. Faulk seemed to have noticed too, particularly when Lydia started weakly wriggling in the hold, and she was leaning forwards to get a closer look until Harriet glanced up and raised an eyebrow at her.
Wardrobe malfunction may have been on the audience’s mind at the start of the sequence but they quickly got something even more impressive when Lyra sprang to the top rope and used it to fling herself into an arcing somersault over her partner. At the apex of the leap she wrapped her hands around Lethbridge’s lolling noggin. The aristocrat’s pretty face was snapped down into the mat from a considerable height, sending her into a semiconscious dreamland and the crowd into a mixture of appreciative and sympathetic oooohs.
WHIMPER www.reddit.com/r/SquaredCircle/comments/6oo4m1/ccks_inkbomb/
Rolling gracefully to her feet, Faulk glanced down at the pile of blue-blooded wreckage and pouted at her partner. “I’m done now darl. And you still haven’t taken me to Disney World…” her voice was suddenly much more childlike than it had been previously.
“Anywhere but fucking here,” Larkin muttered, taking Lyra’s outstretched hand and leading her over to the ropes and out up the ramp.