Post by bigfan on Oct 21, 2017 23:13:07 GMT
"Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Dubai, United Arab Emirates…standing at five feet and four inches of height and weighing in tonight at one hundred and seventeen pounds…she is the Diva, the Jetsetter, the...uh...the Rightful Lightweight Champion and…ahem…” A pause while the tuxedoed man frowned briefly at his notes, then shrugged and read on. “And the Best Thing that Ever Happened to FAWN…ZOE SCOTT!”
ALL OF THE LIGHTS!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAfFfqiYLp0
True to form, every light in the building went dark except for the five pure white spotlights, which gradually converged on a point at the top of the ramp. Usually this would be the point at which the woman herself would swagger onto the stage, but this was Fawnamania and Zoë Scott was not shy of making a spectacle. It quickly became clear that she was intending to do just that.
Instead of the Dubai Diva strutting out under her own power, she was reclined on a large and ornately decorated mattress, carried like a palanquin at each corner by men wearing all-black dress suits and balaclavas. Scott’s reclined state maximized the lush curves of her body, her grey Calvin Klein-branded sports bra threatening to spill out and the matching bottoms showing plenty of honey-tanned flank.
It seemed obvious that Scott had expected to carry the Lightweight Title out as an accompaniment for her first ever Fawnamania, but having been denied back at Red White and Bruised she had simply bought her own more conventional belt instead, gold-plated and shining out under the intense light. She had forgone her usual jacket, but retained the designer shades, these ones in matching gold and with Chanel branding stamped on the arms. And her feet were similarly blinged in grey and gold trainers with Balenciaga branding.
ZOE SCOTT:
Pausing to take in the adulation (or otherwise) of the crowds, Scott reached one hand up high and clicked her fingers, just as the bass and drums in her entrance music kicked in. This was the signal for the building lights to strobe back on again, a frenzy of flashes with her spotlight the only consistent illumination as she was carried down to the ring. Her bearers placed the mattress down and then backed off silently up the ramp, but Scotty didn’t begin to get up from her reclined position until a different hand reached down to help her.
Isobel Lamont had apparently arrived at ringside too, the personal assistant having made the journey without ever stepping into her employer’s spotlight. She was dressed in her usual painted-on jeans and strappy black top, with a big Stetson shading her face. Reaching down and giving a firm hand to her boss, the big blonde helped Zoë up to standing and walked her over to the ring steps, waiting to receive those expensive sunglasses.
ISOBEL LAMONT:
It seemed that Scott wasn’t quite ready to give the accessories up just yet though, pulling her smartphone out and taking a few quick selfie snaps with the Fawnamania logo behind her. Once she was satisfied she handed the phone to her assistant along with her shades and then waved the big blonde away, turning to the nearest cameraman and impatiently beckoning him in close.
“This should have been my crowning as the greatest Lightweight Champion of all time!” Scott snarled into the lens. “Jealously is a terrible thing, and that’s why everyone is conspiring to hold me down. But don’t worry, because tonight I’m taking apart some has-been ‘legend’ in this ring, and tomorrow I’ll be demanding that this organization gives me what’s rightfully mine.” Message sent, she clicked her fingers, dismissing the cameraman and swanning through the ropes and over to her corner.
With Scotty talking to (or rather AT) Bel, the Announcer returned for the second half of his duties. “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Richmond, England in the United Kingdom, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and fifteen pounds. She is the Oncoming Storm, this is… OLIVIA DARE!"
Still on their feet from jeering Zoe, the capacity crowd still seemed to jolt into the air when the speakers produced the somnolently aggressive drumbeat of Hooverphonic’s ‘2Wicky’. Their throat-born thunder crashed all the louder when the lithesome Englishwoman appeared atop the stage to greet her fans with an index finger raised high overhead.
OLIVIA DARE:
For her return to the immense, dazzling stage that was ’Mania, the former World Champion wore a pair of stormy black bikini briefs edged with silver trim and cut high enough to offer the audience a tantalizing view of her sculpted hips, thighs and calves. The other half of her ensemble included a matching bustier, also done in black and edged with silver. Short black wrestling shoes and silver knee and elbow pads rounded out the rest of her outfit. Thusly greeted, the bendyback standard bearer started down the aisle, Olivia careful to keep her eyes trained on the towering Texan her opposition brought to ringside. She’d just slapped an outstretched palm when a sign caught her attention.
SCOTTY THINKS IT’S A SPOTLIGHT
IT’S ACTUALLY A LIGHTNING BOLT!
“Or possibly a freight train.” Dare agreed with a knowing smile. “Either way I fear Ms. Scott is far too foolish to get out of the way in time.”
Continuing her way to the squared circle, Olivia strode up the steps, glided out onto the apron and set her back to the strands. Gifting the whole of the arena with a grin as she draped her arms over the top rope, Olivia dipped her knees and tumbled backward to land on her feet as her anthem reached a crescendo. “Lovely to see you again, Algernon.” Dare said as Al Carpenter walked over to check her wrists and knees. “Tell me, is the charming Zoë packing any weapons in her undersized attire?”
“Nothing but some perfume that probably costs more than my rent.” the ref joked. “Oh, and she demanded that I tell Lenore she wants a match as soon as, and I quote, your weird, scrawny poetry-reading ass works up the nerve.”
Olivia worked very hard not to laugh aloud. “Oh… dear. And will you deliver that particular communiqué to your lady love?”
“Mood she’s in? Hell no, I like being alive. All clear here, ’Liv. Head to your corner and I’ll get things started.”
Dare murmured her thanks and did just that, her attention already honed in on the abrasive newcomer on the opposite side of the ring.
As excited and delighted as any other FAWN talent to be back on the grandest stage of the year, Olivia wanted to come out of her corner like a proverbial thunderhead when the bell sounded, yet that cool voice in the back of her head suggested it would be wiser (and potentially more entertaining) to let the younger woman take point, at least in terms of claiming the center of the ring. So rather than rush out, she propped her elbows against the top rope and crossed one ankle over the other all while keeping an interested, albeit dispassionate eye on Zoë Scott.
Over on the other side of town Zoë pushed off with the bell, the oil baroness seemingly unintimidated by performing in her first ‘Mania. She’d only made it a step or two when Lamont, just on the edge of earshot, called after her “Remember the plan Scotty.”
Zoë didn’t take her eyes off Dare, who’d hadn’t yet left her corner for some unfathomable reason. “I know the plan!” she snapped. “Shock and awe early on, then I can do whatever I want when she’s defenseless. Now stop reciting platitudes and go look after my things.”
“Girl’s dangerous, Zoë.” the big blonde put extra emphasis on the second word. “Get lazy or complacent tonight and she’ll tie you in knots.”
“She’ll be crying long before that ever happens. Now go!” She pointed swiftly to where her handbag was stowed and got on the move again, Scott quickly reaching the center, still unoccupied save for Al Carpenter. “Excuse me, excuse me, Olivia number two!” Zoë clicked her fingers at the former World Champion and looked mildly surprised when Dare did not snap to attention.
Smiling inwardly at the irritation she saw on the ingénue’s face, Olivia looked around, then pointed to herself and mouthed ‘me’? without bothering to leave the buckles.
The Dubai Diva rolled her eyes. “Yes YOU, unless there’s another poor bytch afflicted with your idiot name. Do be so kind as to step forward and receive your beating. I’m about to make what Lemarchand did to you look like the passable scrawlings of a mildly talented child.”
Dare’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly, but her tone was still polite when she answered. “Is that so? I wonder how you intend to accomplish such a feat from all the way over there?”
Scotty almost stepped forward, but stopped herself. “Am I too close? I’m more than happy to take a few steps back while you waddle your narrow ass out--”
She would’ve said ‘here’ if Olivia hadn’t raised an index finger. “Rule number one, little girl. Power doesn’t travel.”
Zoë bit her bottom lip, shook her head and looked over to Lamont. “Bel, please tell this poor loser what happens when people make me wait?”
The Texan didn’t get a chance to answer because Scott turned on a dime and raced at Dare’s corner! Leaving the canvas several feet removed from her target, Scotty drew back one arm for an Elbow Smash and-- Olivia twisted aside like a cool breeze, leaving the gray-clad battler to BWUUUNG her arm into the thinly-padded top turnbuckle!
Cursing the skinny bytch’s sneakiness, Scotty started to spin around only to let out an ‘OOOFFFHH!’ when the Blackbird shoved her against the top buckle. The impact itself was more startling than painful, the actual hurt arrived in the form of Dare’s left thigh, the broadside of which she THWHAPPED across the small of the newcomer’s back immediately thereafter. Zoë yelped, spun around and promptly buried her hands in the blonde’s hair. Giving Dare a rough shake, she growled, “You have no idea who you’re messing NNNNGGGHH!”
Olivia used the point of her knee this time, digging in deep just north of Scotty’s navel. Freeing her noggin with a single flick of her neck, Olivia hooked her right arm around the back of Scott’s neck, pulled her down and in and THWHACKED her across the chin with FAWN’s prettiest European Uppercut! Zoë staggered back, might’ve gone down on her butt if the corner wasn’t there to slow her down. Though every fiber was screaming for Dare’s blood under her nails, she threaded her right foot between the top and middle ropes and looked to the official. “Break. Get this cheating savage away from--”
‘OOOOHHHH’S’ and several ‘OH NO SHE DIN’T!’ from the sold out crowd when Olivia pressed her left hand to Scotty’s cheek and almost bloodied her bottom lip with a blatantly disrespectful Pie Face. “Didn’t run that Lenore crack by your handler, did you?” Olivia’s hands were raised and her voice was once again all sweetness and light as she acquiesced to the clean break. “If you had, I suspect she would’ve told you it was a remarkably bad idea.”
Zoë wasn’t sure what angered her more. The fact that this has-been bytch punked her out so casually or that she called Lamont her handler. “Bel’s my assistant, not my handler.” she purred to the blonde. “Though she may very well be required to prize me off after I’ve torn you to sobbing pieces.”
“You?” Dare scoffed. “Dear girl, you’re nothing but SPAM in a swimsuit. Or off-brand Portia with a very deep tan. We both know I’ll play with you until I get bored, then I’ll point your pert little arse to the lights for three or treat the crowd to the sound of your wailing surrender.” She paused, clearly enjoying the tyro’s bubbling fury. “Perhaps I’ll even sit on your face. It IS your first ‘Mania, after--”
Scott exploded out of the corner and swept her foe into something that was equal parts hair pull and Collar & Elbow Lock-Up. Flowing into a Side Headlock before the ref could offer a complaint, Zoë mashed Olivia’s cheek against her breasts, then doubled her over and grrrrrrrrrrooooooound the former champion’s temple against her hip. “You? YOU are going to sit on MY face?” she sneered amidst Dare’s grunting and groaning. “Oh princess, I was only going to humble you. Now I’m gonna BREAK you!”
Hardly concerned with the nattering referee or the booing fans, Scott halved the Headlock so she could fill the other hand with Olivia’s hair. Several good solid yanks earned a wail and a count, so Zoë returned to a more legal configuration. The instant Carpenter backed off she hooked her fingers into Olivia’s nostrils and pulled like she meant to turn the Briton’s nose inside out! The Oncoming Storm voiced an unpleasantly nasal shriek that delighted Scotty to no end. “Oh come on, how can you complain about that?” she chided Al. “It’s such a lovely soOOOWWWW DAMMIT!”
Olivia twisted loose of her attacker’s grasp, snatched hold of Zoë’s clawin’ wrist and folded it up between her shoulders with a stiff Hammerlock. Forced onto tiptoes to relieve the worst of the torque, Scott balled her free hand into a fist and launched a Back Elbow over her shoulder in search of Dare’s chin. It was close, but Dare felt it coming and drew back at just the right time. With the Dubai Diva momentarily off balance, ‘Liv crooked her free hand into a claw, laid it on the brunette’s honey-brown tummy and raaaaaaaaaaked from one side to the other!
Zoë cursed, scraped the heel of one boot down Dare’s shin and paid for it with a quick Kneelift to each glute. Totally unwilling to cede any skirmish to the veteran, Scotty reached back, grabbed Olivia’s hair and pulled like she meant to snatch her bald. “You can’t win this, bytch.” she growled. “Don’t care how many titles you’ve won, the Lightweight Division belongs to me now and you’re just another trophy to NNNNGGGHHHH!”
Rather than let Carpenter end the hair pull, Olivia leaned into the brunette’s back and charged forward until Zoë was smudged against the ropes. Then she slammed a single fist into Scotty’s ribs and eased up on the Hammerlock just long enough to wrap Zoe’s arm over the top rope. Then she went right back to it, ‘Liv working a rope-augmented Hammerlock, only now she slipped her arm up through the triangle created by Scott’s forearm and bicep. That made it much easier for Dare to lock her hands once she laced her other arm around the shorter woman’s throat.
Yanking hard on the admittedly illegal version of the Crossface Chickenwing, Olivia put her lips to Zoe’s ear and whispered, “You want to prove you belong in FAWN, girl? Reach four without shrieking. Then she clamped down and wrenched back, the former champ doing her damndest to make Zoë wail before Al enforced the break.
Shocked at just how painful her position had gotten in such a short time, Zoë instinctively tried jerking back on her shoulders. But she only tried once, the bolt of agony that elicited from her twisted shoulder taught her quickly not to do it again! An involuntary scream escaped her throat even as she bit down, clamping her teeth together and trying her best to swallow the low growling moan which rose in pitch and intensity until the instant Carpenter shouted ‘FOUR!’
“Thought not” Olivia purred into the younger woman’s ear as she released, retreating a few steps with a satisfied smile on her face. There wasn’t much Zoë could do except slump forward, but at least the presence of the ropes gave her a bit of respite. As she looked up her assistant was there waiting.
The big blonde caught her employer’s eye and mouthed the three words that had been repeated over and over again by her coaches in training for this fight; “faster, fitter, smarter”. Much as she hated to acknowledge the opinion of anyone else, Zoe had to accept that the reminder was needed, which might be why she let her assistant’s correction go without admonishment and turned back to face Dare.
Inching forward so she wasn’t actually touching the ropes, Zoë fixed the Oncoming Storm with a mock-curious gaze. “Bel tells me you used to be something really special,” she smirked, putting a strong emphasis on the historical nature of her opponent’s prowess. “I get why you’re satisfied just being a gatekeeper these days, but it must make you sad to be such a serial loser…”
Eyes narrowing at yet another insult, Olivia briefly feinted forward, pleased to see her opponent dip back hastily against the ropes and click her fingers at Carpenter. “You can’t just stay in the ropes forever” he grumbled, but the Oil Baroness held up one finger to silence him without ever taking her eyes off Dare.
“Obviously Lemarchand humiliated you right there two years ago” Scott stepped juuuust away from the ropes again, pointing to a spot in the middle of the ring. “But before that it was Burlingame. Then there was that night spent with your nose wedged in Portia’s slobby ass. And, just last month, your old BFF left you crying without even needing to hit top gear.”
This time when Dare moved she did it for real, bristling up to flick out a boot which would have gutted the brunette if she hadn’t dipped back to the ropes again. But now Scott wasn’t demanding a break, she was using the strands as a springboard, pressing herself backwards and lifting both feet high over Olivia’s kick to bury her boots into the Englishwoman’s modest chest.
The impact was more of a push than a proper Dropkick, but it sent Dare staggering back, while Zoë pushed off to flip neatly over the ropes and onto the apron. As soon as she’d landed Olivia was dashing back in to take advantage of the vulnerable position, but Scott seemed to anticipate this, ducking down and firing her shoulder between the top and middle ropes
Her shoulder speared into Olivia’s onrushing tummy with a satisfying ‘splat’ noise, forcing the willowy Blackbird to double over around the blow. Quick to take advantage, Scott grabbed a handful of hair and yanked the gasping blonde forward until the second rope was directly below the hollow of her throat, then dropped to the floor, holding on so that the steel cabling TWANGED into Dare’s windpipe.
Carpenter’s protests and the audience boos drowned out the little retching noises Olivia was making, but Zoë focused in on them and quickly decided she wanted to hear more. She hopped back to the apron and draped one tanned leg over the back of the Englishwoman’s head, leaning her weight in and pressing down to crush the former champ’s neck. The low gurgle this produced would have been extremely satisfying if it wasn’t for the referee’s babbling in her ears.
“Get her out of the ropes right now Zoë, I mean it!” Carpenter started his count immediately and got to four before the Dubai Diva released the pressure. “I don’t respond well to orders, Alexander,” she snarled at him, “but in this case I’m minded to agree.”
With Dare’s head still hanging over the rope Zoë took a few light steps backward along the apron, then dashed forwards and THUDDED a stiff kick into the Brit’s temple. A sympathetic OOOOOO rose from the crowd as Olivia was sent sideways and upward to land in a damp, prone heap parallel to the ropes.
ROPE-HUNG PENALTY KICK:
Pleased with how much better her strategy was working in the last few minutes, Scott took the top rope in both hands and impulsively gave her grey-clad derriere a little wiggle, secretly pleased with the leering noises coming from the crowd behind her. Then she leaped forwards, using the rope as a pivot to flip over and crash the full weight of her right leg down across Dare’s wide open throat.
SOMERSAULT SLINGSHOT LEG DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YMd6DMNDmU
With the Oncoming Storm suitably flattened, Zoë scooted around to place both hands lightly on her chest as Carpenter somewhat unhappily dropped to count…
ONE
T…..
Despite the Dubai native’s offensive blitz Olivia Dare was far too strong to be taken down that quickly, and she proved it by bucking her hips and firing her body up off the canvas. In a jiffy she had scrambled around to take the fight to her opponent, only to realise that the younger woman had backed off again.
“As I was saying,” the brunette continued her earlier monologue from a few yards away, “You’ve become the person everyone goes to when they want a nice easy title defense. That’s what you were meant to be tonight too, except this idiot…”she waved dismissively at Carpenter “and that cheating little girl robbed me of the lightweight title that’s rightfully mine.”
An incredulous snort escaped Olivia’s lips. “All she did was beat you, luv, and she’d have done it a lot quicker if it wasn’t for your HANDLER over there.”
Scott let out a little snarl and took a step forward. “You must be going deaf in your old age, I already told you why Bel is here. If you’re struggling already it’s going to be much harder to hear when you’re taking a nap in my tits.”
“It’s going to be hard to talk so much when you’re under my arse,” Olivia retorted calmly. “And I’m a lot less innocent than little Chloe. If you’re really feeling so upset about what she did then you’re going to hate what happens nexTOO SLOW!”
Scott stepped forward swinging an impetuous slap and instantly regretted it when Dare snatched it out of the air before it could connect. Olivia moved with lethal fluidity, ducking underneath and twisting the captive limb into an efficient Arm Wringer then firing one boot neatly up into the exposed meat of Zoë’s armpit.
The swift kick produced a meaty THWAPP noise as it drove into the twisted limb, coinciding with an involuntary wail from the suddenly snared expat. She hurriedly brought her other hand around to defend the tied-up arm and thus left herself defenseless when Olivia’s foot flicked up again, nestling into her cheek just as the taller woman fell backwards to deliver an unwanted helping of Sole Food.
SOLE FOOD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9G_dk0ctjaQ
The signature move had been enough to put away plenty of opponents in the past, and the way that Scott’s head whiplashed out of the impact made the crowd think it was about to claim another victim. But Olivia had listened to a bit too much bile from the arrogant girl’s mouth and she decided that there were better ways to send her message. So instead of going for the pin Olivia shuffled her bum around to the stunned girl’s crown and threaded those oh-so-deadly legs either side of her face.
“Back in the good old days I finished a whole load of girls with this.” ‘Liv’s tone was conversational even as she bent one leg and tucked it into the pit of the opposite knee, cinching her legs closed. “I’ve got better weapons nowadays, but you do seem keen on history. Maybe you deserve a blast from the past.”
Scott’s eyes snapped open in horror as frighteningly strong gams crushed down on her noggin. She immediately reached out with both hands, waving them frantically in the hopes of reaching a rope and finding none. “No chance of that I’m afraid dear,” the Oncoming Storm chided, “you’ve spent quite enough time in the ropes already, what else have you got?”
Glancing desperately around, Scott had to concede that the former champ was right; this deep within the fleshy prison she couldn’t even turn her head to see the ropes, let alone grab them. What she could see was Al Carpenter, the lanky ref crouching over her and babbling something about surrender. She paid no attention to his words of course, but reached out a free hand to beckon him closer and then, when he moved in, grabbed a rough hold of his collar and gave a hard yank!
Taken by surprise, the lanky zebra was pulled off balance and flopped down next to Scott’s writhing body. In itself this didn’t get her any closer to freedom, but all she’d been trying to do was buy a distraction and she quickly realized it had worked when a strong hand grabbed her ankle. With Carpenter’s attention momentarily elsewhere, Isobel Lamont leaned under the strands and neatly pulled sideways on her employer’s leg until it was safely under the rope by the time the referee had turned back around.
“BBBbbbbrrrrrr” was the best request Zoë could make in the circumstances. Carpenter was clearly suspicious but could only call what he could see, so after a few moments he reluctantly began counting for a break. Olivia didn’t seem too upset by this, but she did lean down to talk quietly into the writhing brunette’s ear.
“Once again you rely on a big blonde to save your chubby arse,” Dare purred to the trapped socialite. “I’m not surprised, but I am a little disappointed at the lack of originality.” She popped her legs open right on Carpenter’s shout of “FOUR”, rolling away and calmly standing up as Zoë heaved in big gasping breaths to refill her aching lungs.
Clutching at the ropes for support as her respiration slowly returned to normal, Scott fought to one knee and glared a hole through Olivia, who returned the scorching eye contact with equal intensity. After a moment to purge the veteran’s disgusting musk from her nostrils, Zoë started to rise, but stopped when Bel said, “You’re taking her too lightly, Scotty. Dare regularly submits Destroyer class wrestlers with those legs of hers. She gets them around you in the middle of the ring, you’re gonna tap.”
The newcomer’s upper lip curled back in a hateful sneer that might’ve been intended for Dare OR Lamont. Without looking away from her opponent, she asked, “Why aren’t you keeping an eye on my things?”
The towering Texan sighed and returned to her post, leaving the Oil Baroness to tend to the Oncoming Storm all by her lonesome.
Watching Scott close in with a wry smile, Olivia opined, “You know, if I had the expertise of such an imposing woman at my disposal, I wouldn’t discard her advice simply because it stung my ego.”
Zoë made a minor adjustment to her briefs, being careful to stay out of reach in case the scrawny hag tried for another cheap shot. “I’m going to sting a lot more than your ego, scarecrow. I’m going to strip you down, light a match and torch your legacy in front of the whole world!” Dare would’ve snorted in derision if the newcomer hadn’t immediately pounced, Scotty’s curled hands dropping south out of lock-up territory for a wicked grip on the blonde’s modest bust. ‘Liv yowled, reared back for a slap that got short-circuited when Zoë narrowed her focus to a pair of pincers. “Hmmmh, maybe I won’t strip you after all.” Zoë mused as she tried to set Dare’s dials to K-TAP. “After all, what would be the UNNNGGHH!”
The Blackbird scuffed Scott’s mouth with a short Forearm, then paid for her insolence with a quick Kneelift to the belly. Abandoning the claw for something a bit more emphatic, the Dubai Diva went low, wrapped her arms around the Englishwoman’s upper thighs and went up on tiptoe to “EEERRRGGGHHHH!” More defiance from Olivia, this time in the form of an Elbow Strike that gouged into the crown of her brunette’s skull. Atomic Drop foiled, Scott dropped the blonde, shoved her away and shifted weight to her back foot for a quick shuffle-step and Super Kick aimed at the point of Dare’s--
Olivia caught Scotty’s ankle, tossed it down and doubled her over with a Toe Kick that landed just above the waistband of those designer togs. Turning her back on the brunette as Zoë leaned over, Olivia hooked her arms around the other woman’s biceps in a sort of Inverted Double Underhook that made everyone wonder about an homage to her more musically inclined partner. No Decrescendo this though, Dare twisted them both around so she was behind Scotty with her head wedged between the tyro’s bronzed gams. Then she bent her knees and stood up straight, the Briton draping Zoë down her back even as she laid claim to her foe’s ankles. Applause from fans of technical wrestling and tawdry spectacle alike as Olivia streeeeeeeeeeeetched Zoë with a textbook Inverted Gory Special.
INVERTED GORY SPECIAL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=56UO1OoQO0w
Well away from any security offered by the ropes, Olivia spun in a quick circle, both to keep the brunette disoriented and to show her off to all four sides of the ring. Stopping so she was pointed toward Isobel Lamont, Olivia pulled down on Scotty’s ankles, then asked, “Is the pay really worth the sort of smarmy self-entitled claptrap she levels at you?” she asked the big blonde. “I know Portia paid exceedingly well, but Vale never let her run her mouth like that.” Lamont didn’t respond with words, she did however nod ever so slightly. Olivia nodded in return. “You and I should talk when this is over. I know someOOOOOOWWWWW!”
Zoë’d been trying to sink her teeth into the obnoxious Brit and when that proved impossible she drew her head forward and snapped it back hard! The improvised Headbutt sent a painful jolt through Dare’s tailbone and while it didn’t free her, it loosened the confining hooks enough for Scotty to try it again. A second shot broke ‘Liv’s control over her feet and Zoë tumbled down the blonde’s back to land on one knee. It was hardly as nimble as say a Lily Burlingame or a Polly Lockwood, yet it still left her in perfect position to THWHUMP a Headbutt into Dare’s crotch when the Englishwoman rounded on her a heartbeat later!
“Hey, watch the trunks Zoë!” Al Carpenter barked as the former World Champion doubled over in agony.
Scotty paid him no mind, she was far too enthralled by the sound of her nails raaaaaaaaaaking from the small of Dare’s back to just south of her shoulders! Olivia shrieked, straightened up and promptly had her cheek pinked by a stiff backhand Bytch Slap from the brunette. A defensive clinch was swatted aside by a dismissive Scott, who tacked on a Forehand Slap, then followed it with a Goozle. The crowd buzzed as Zoë ‘got big’ on her bendy adversary, no one really quite believing the Dubai Diva could hit a Choke Slam, but that didn’t stop them from springing to their feet when Zoë snagged hold of her foe’s waistband. “Your relevance in FAWN ends tonight.” Scott cooed at the gasping blonde. “In fact your last milestone will be to serve as the first step in my ascendancy to greatness!” With that she dipped her knees and muscled Olivia high into the air! For a moment it looked like she would indeed hit a hellacious Choke Slam, but Zoë Scott was above such gaudy shows of power, so instead she dropped to one knee and brought the Englishwoman down crotch-first atop the posted joint!
GOOZLED INVERTED ATOMIC DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfG0H3hmmEg
Dare’s knees, already weakened, were almost knocking in the wake of the creative Atomic Drop and no one was really surprised when Scott took her to the deck with a no-frills Double Leg Takedown. Standing tall with Olivia sprawled at her feet, Scotty stretched her arms wide, tilted her head back and demanded, “ALL EYES ON ME!” The crowd didn’t like it one bit, yet the newcomer’s presence was impossible to ignore and so Zoë got her wish even as she pushed onto tiptoe and dropped forward and down to THWHOMP her forehead into Dare’s groin with another shot below the belt!
FALLING HEADBUTT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrDQHsYdLKM
“UUUNNNNNNGGGHHH!” Olivia groaned and started to sit up, so Zoë shoved her back down, then swung sideways and settled into a Crossbody, the Oil Baroness hooking the far leg nice and tight through…
ONE…
TWO…
Dare kicked loose at ‘TWO’ leaving Zoë to fix Al Carpenter with a rather unpleasant look. “Getting in my way again, Alfred?” she snapped. “Olivia’s going to suffer for your stupidity.”
Working her hands into Olivia’s hair, Scott pulled until the blonde yelped, then hauled her up and let loose just to SLAP her across the face one more time! Olivia snarled and answered with a looping Haymaker, alas Zoe was prepared for just such an occurrence and she hooked an arm around the Blackbird’s exposed bicep en route to ducking beneath the attack. Coming out on the other side with her other arm coiled around Olivia’s noggin, Scotty spun on through and laid out flat to THWHONK Dare down on the back of her skull with a gorgeous Arm-Trap Neckbreaker. Another pin followed, Zoë planting a knee between ‘Liv’s breasts while she trapped the near leg in a snug Half Matchbook good for…
ARM-TRAP NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrrcIbgMW4Y
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
“BYTCH!” Zoë pounded a fist against the mat as Dare denied her greatness again. Stifling the anger before Bel could offer another obnoxious suggestion. Scotty got to her feet, strutted to the nearest corner and settled in to await Olivia’s return to boot-leather. “C’mon hag, you’re so f*cking tough, don’t keep me waiting!” Zoë demanded as Dare rolled to her stomach, then slowly pushed to hands and knees.
“FINALLY.” Zoë groused, her voice thick with exasperation.
Bead drawn the instant her target started to move, Scotty exploded out of the corner, the gray-clad battler picking up a remarkable head of steam as she bore down on the weakened Brit. Ready to dim Dare’s lights for good with her Showstopper Palm Strike, Zoe drew back and--”WHOOOAAAAAANNNNNNGGGHHHHH!”
The Oncoming Storm got low, stuffed her palms into that taut tummy and launched her straight into the lights! Zoë went up, up, up and down, down, down, her return to terra firma made immeasurably more unpleasant when Olivia stepped in and THWHAPPED FAWN’s best European Uppercut to her chin! Scotty’s neck snapped backward and she tumbled over in mid-air, landing on her side in a drunken sprawl while a pale-faced Dare crumpled to all fours and tried to will away the pain in her center.
THUNDERBOLT UPPERCUT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jv5h-5b4QHk
The arena erupted with noise, most of the crowd on its feet at the spectacular brutality of Dare’s counter. The noise barely reached Zoë, her ears still full of ringing and rushing blood. But Olivia heard it and used that buzz of energy to propel herself back to vertical and over to Scott’s prone form. Kneeling over her, she grabbed a big handful of brunette tresses and yanked upward until the dazed girl was roughly sitting up.
“I must have been wrong about the competence your handler over there,” Dare SLAMMED an elbow into the jetsetter’s mouth but kept a tight hold of her tresses so she stayed upright. “Any scout worth their salt could have told you what happens when people try to work low with me.” To illustrate the point, the next elbow strike slammed not into the Oil Baroness’s face but into a spot just south of the lettered waistband of her trunks, earning a sob of horror from Scott.
“So we have two possibilities. One, the lovely Isobel over there is incompetent in the extreme…” Olivia rose to her feet and THWAPPED a short kick into Scott’s bountiful chest, drawing another gasp as the overflowing flesh was pancaked by her boot. “Or two, that you are so monumentally, narcissistically stupid...”Dare circled around so that the next soccer kick slammed into the Dubai Diva’s spine, causing her to arch forward “…that you knew what was going to happen and just did it anyway.”
Split between massaging her aching chest and her tenderized center, Zoë tried to do both and ended up not really doing either as Olivia jogged away and ran back to deliver a Low Dropkick which slammed the olive-skinned brunette down onto her back. The impact of boot on face left her seeing stars, but she had just enough awareness of her predicament to roll over onto her front and thus prevent her shoulders from being anywhere near the mat.
Pins seemed to be a long way from Olivia’s mind right now though. Instead she reached down and hooked both hands into the waistband of the moaning expat’s bottoms. Hauling upwards brought the dual benefits of forcing Scott back to her feet while also jamming her treacherous togs up into her undercarriage. A pained squeal escaped Zoë’s lips, only increasing in pitch as Dare carried on lifting up and stalling briefly in the 12 o’clock position to give an extra tug on the bottoms before dropping over in a beautifully augmented Suplex.
DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FWT4VsKL5c
Throbbing with pain in several places, the Oil Baroness sat up and was yanked back to vertical again, but even her dazed state wasn’t enough to stop the brunette’s mouth from running. “You nasty little bytch!” she moaned, “you’re going to be begging for forgiveness before the end of URGHHH!” Both of Scott’s hands were busy trying to reposition her briefs, leaving her defenseless when another European Uppercut snapped into her chin. Her head was sent reeling backwards, her body following and her feet dancing frantically to stay beneath her until a back-first collusion with the ropes helped them out.
The springy strands managed to hold Scott upright while she tried to blink the haze from her vision, but they were no help at all when Dare’s boot loomed up out of that fog and planted into her jaw, sending her tumbling over and down to the arena floor. Miraculously Zoë managed to land on her feet, although the drunken way she stumbled backwards from the landing made it clear that luck had played an extremely big part in her escape.
Unfortunately it seemed that her luck had changed as Olivia threaded smoothly through the ropes and stepped out onto the steel ring steps, perching there for a second until her prey turned to face her. Scott just had time to say 'nooooo' before her jaw was snapped shut again, the Oncoming Storm’s gorgeous dive sending her barreling backwards into the crowd barrier.
DIVING EUROPEAN UPPERCUT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjh12Mb242M
Scotty crashed down on her back and stayed there, while Olivia slid to a stop a few feet away. In an ideal world she would have stayed there for a few more seconds to catch her breath, but she had to move fast if she was going to avoid the negative consequences of taking things outside the ring. Sure enough Isobel Lamont was close, striding around the steps and approaching at a dangerous intercept angle despite Carpenter’s shouted warning for her to stay back.
It was possible that the referee’s words would be enough to head the big blonde off, but Olivia didn’t want to take any chances. She took out an insurance policy by scrabbled over to Scotty’s downed form and lifted her up into a loose front facelock, snaring one arm as she did so. Her eyes locked with Lamont’s baby blues and the threat of a Daredevil DDT onto the thinly-covered concrete was enough to get the Texan to stop in her tracks. She didn’t back off an inch though, and for several seconds the standoff was only punctuated by AL Carpenter, shouting "FOUR!” loudly over their heads.
It took till “SIX!” before either party showed any movement. “What are you going to do Isobel?” Dare asked quietly. Lamont flashed a glance up at Carpenter, who stared worriedly back, but Olivia answered the question for her. “I’ve hit this on enough girls to know she’s not getting back up, and you can’t get to me before I drop her. ‘Scotty’ here gets counted out or disqualified and either way the bell will ring long before you can do any real damage.”
A small smile crossed Lamont’s lips. “Darlin’, If I come for you I ain’t stopping because someone rings a bell,” she drawled, shifting forward slightly and freezing again when Dare tightened her grip. “Let her go right now, maybe you can get back up into the ring before something bad happens.”
Olivia’s mouth opened but whatever she wanted to say was supplanted by a yelp as Scott jerked free of her grasp and thumped a heartless uppercut up between her legs. With Dare’s grip disintegrating the vengeful expat shifted to her side, keeping her head tucked low and she reaching one arm around the Brit’s back. A tanned leg swung out in front of Zoe and then back again, sweeping the Blackbird’s legs and sending her into an enforced back somersault onto her neck.
DE-LISTER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9eG8CZ8lIJU
Under normal circumstances Zoë would have hung on for a pin, but being outside the ring she simply rolled through from her back and stood up, finally freeing herself from Dare’s wedgie. “Why didn't you do anything? Get her back into the ring” she snapped at Isobel, taking a few cautious steps of her own and then gingerly clambering back up to the apron. Olivia was ‘helped’ up behind her, Carpenter reluctantly deciding he’d rather let the big blonde do it than have to end a match by count out but keeping a close watch for shenanigans.
Slipping through the ropes, Scott beelined to the downed Blackbird and stomped down hard on her shoulder, earning a small groan for her efforts. “You think you’re so edgy just cos you got Lemarchand a bit wet one time.” The Oil Baroness’s overpriced sneaker raised up and dropped again, this time grinding into Dare’s décolletage. “You’d be screaming my name within minutes if we were in a penthouse, but instead I’ll just settle for ripping your tawdry arm off.”
Keen to illustrate her point the Dubai native flicked a short kick into her victim’s armpit, drawing another groan, then took hold of the isolated arm with both hands and yanked it up into a Hammerlock, using the twisted limb as a lever to get the blonde back to her feet. Dare immediately threw her free hand backwards, her elbow connecting with Scott’s cheekbone and loosening the Hammerlock a little bit. But Zoë powered a knee up into Olivia’s glutes to subdue her, then set her feet and hauled upwards, dropping heavily to her butt and taking her burden along for the ride..
HAMMERLOCK FALCON ARROW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cR6CbxIcIg
Dare landed with her arm sandwiched between her body and the mat, immediately pulling her wounded wing up and cradling it. Zoë yanked it out again, laying the arm out on the canvas and pressing her boot down over the elbow. “Any clever little threats now?” she screeched down at Olivia, who was far too concerned with pulling her arm away to respond. Despite her efforts she couldn’t shift Zoë’s bodyweight, but the Diva quickly got bored of watching her try. Instead she dropped to her knee, driving the bony joint into Dare’s hurt shoulder and enjoying the yowl it elicited.
Maintaining her high kneel over the downed Storm, Zoë curled one hand into a claw and dug it nastily into the soft flesh around Dare’s shoulder muscle. This fresh assault on an already tenderized joint was threatening enough that Olivia brought both hands around to pry the invading talons away. She was beginning to have some success with this when the Oil Baroness deployed her free hand, forming it into a spade and SMECKing it squarely into the older woman’s crotch!
“I TOLD YOU TO KEEP YOUR EYES ON ME!” Zoë roared to the crowd as the fresh wave of agony sent the former champ writhed in her clutches. “Tell me I’m the best!” she demanded to Olivia, “tell everyone who beat you and just maybe I’ll leave you to crawl away with a shred of dignity!” Dare had jammed her mouth shut in case any treacherous words escaped, but the expat’s twin holds were sending wracks of pain through her body and she couldn’t block that torture out forever.
“How’s it feel, hag?” Scott jeered as she continued bearing down on shoulder and undercarriage. “All those fans that used to chant your name are gonna flock to me in droves after I make your tired old ass tap UNGH!” Dare brought her left leg up quick, driving the point of her knee into the Dubai Diva’s backside. Zoë grimaced, answered with a tart slap between the Brit’s thighs before reapplying the crotch grip. “I’m through playing games with you, scarecrow.” she growled. “Scream my name in the next ten seconds or I’ll show all the whole world how the new school does old school FAWNGH! NGH! NGH! ERRRGGGGHHH!”
Olivia went to work with her knee again, the lithesome blonde aiming squarely for Scotty’s tailbone. The first few got nothing but glute, the fourth however struck home and sent a nearly electric jolt up the ingénue’s spine. Credit the tenacity of one Zoë Scott, she maintained her clamps through this show of resistance and may well have segued into another position if the Blackbird hadn’t lashed out with a free hand, Dare THWHACKING the heel of her palm into the brunette’s chin. That knocked Zoë from her perch, the newcomer sitting down hard as Dare rolled over and crawled away on all fours.
“Shake it off, Scotty!” Bel called from the outside. “You’ve got her on the run, get after her and finish this!”
Zoë heard and followed the Texan’s advice, not because Lamont told her to, but because it happened to coincide with her own plan. Scrambling to boot-leather in pursuit of the Englishwoman, Scott raced across the canvas and THWHUMPED a heavy Double Axehandle into that wounded shoulder half a heartbeat before Olivia would’ve grabbed the middle rope. “Where you goin’, scrawny?” Zoe teased as she draaaaaaaaaaagged her blonde back to the middle of the ring. “Don’t you want everyone to have a clear view of my first ‘Mania victOFFFHH!”
Olivia slammed a short Back Elbow into the Oil Baroness’s tummy, doubling her over. Dare hit her with another, reached back to catch Zoë’s noggin in a Three Quarters Facelock only to catch a short Kneelift to that damaged shoulder. “Rippin’ you apart now, bytch.” Scotty sounded quite matter of fact as she dragged Olivia up from behind and threaded her left leg around the veteran’s left thigh. In the same motion she slung Olivia’s wounded right arm across her shoulders and hooked her left arm across the vulnerable limb to CRAAAAAAAAAAAANK back on a perfect Abdominal Stretch. “Tell ‘em now, has been!” Zoe shouted in Olivia’s ear. “Tell ‘em how old and tired couldn’t handle next year’s model!” Dare ignored the brunette’s demands, her only response a quick ‘no’ for Carpenter when he asked if she wanted to submit. Infuriated by the denial, Zoë crooked her right hand into a talon and affixed it to Olivia’s undercarriage for another round of catty torture. “You want me to go under your trunks, is that it, scarecrow?” Zoë purred in her victim’s ear. “Your rags are a little thrift-shop chic for me, but it’s a special occasion so I can make an exceptNNNGGGHHHH!”
Olivia’s left hand, which had pushed at Scotty’s entwining leg for several seconds with no success, abruptly balled into a fist and caught the unsuspecting newcomer square on the jaw! The hooks at her shoulder and hip went slack and Dare could’ve escaped without issue so of course she whipped around behind the Dubai Diva and coiled her in an Abdominal Stretch of her own! Willing to endure pain to inflict that much more, Olivia pressed her right hand to the side of Zoë’s face and puuuuuuusssssssshed down, the former World Champion dropping into a near squat that damn near folded Scotty’s torso over the post of her right knee.
With her left hand free to wreak whatever vengeance it chose, Olivia let it spider up the brunette’s torso to the swell of her chest. “Your level of confidence is impressive,” Dare admitted just before treating Scott’s left breast to a hard squeeze. “Astounding even, for someone who feels the need to still have her name on her underwear.”
Zoë grimaced, flipped Carpenter the bird when he tried to check on her. “Go f*ck yourself, bytch. That’s there to make sure everyone knows who’s sitting on your fugly AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH BYYYYYYYTCCCCCHHH!”
Olivia pinched Zoë’s nipple through the thin lycra of her top, then clamped down and gave the vulnerable flesh a quick, savage twist! Bel shouted for her client to hold on, unfortunately it was promptly drowned out by the crowd who demanded Zoë ‘TAP!’ as quickly and emphatically as she could. Dare paid no mind to either external factor, she only leaned in close enough for her lips to brush against Scott’s ear. “Humiliation is a dangerous game to play with me, Zoë Scott.” She twisted her wrist a quarter turn, earning a hateful curse from the Dubai Diva. “Now would you like to surrender or shall I strip you to the waistTTEERRRRRGGGGHHH… Algernon, would you kindly ask this strumpet to release my hair!”
Scotty sneered and loosened Dare’s scalp with another vile pull. “Let me go, A-Cup.” the brunette threatened. “Or I’ll feed you your own NGH!” Olivia relinquished the Abdominal Stretch, grabbed Zoë by the shoulders and drilled a Headbutt into the base of her foe’s neck. Scotty caught her balance after a hard stumble, whipped around on her heel and CRAAAACKED the former World Champion across the cheek with the most spiteful Bytch Slap she could muster.
“GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD, CUNT!” the enraged expat roared as Olivia checked her lips for crimson. “I AM THE FUTURE AND YOU ARE THE--” THWHAP!
Olivia shut down that prophecy with a European Uppercut that ‘clacked’ Scotty’s teeth loud enough to make Bel wince the tiniest bit. Barely aware that she was staggering like a drunk, Zoë hit the ropes at a pretty good clip but rather than take a moment to steady herself she exploded out at full speed, her right arm already locked and loaded with a taste of the Spotlight that’d make Dare’s head sp-- Olivia ducked at the perfect moment, leaving the fuming tyro to whip around and fire off a high speed punt straight between Olivia’s thi--
Dare caught the Low Blow two-handed and yanked Zoë’s leg that much higher, forcing her to hop on one foot. “Enjoy this now, hag.” Zoë sniped as she tried to catch her adversary with several hard slaps. “Because when I get my foot back I’m going to stick it straight up your bony old ass.”
The Briton looked mildly concerned. “Oh dear. Perhaps it best I simply not return it at all.”
“Like you could ever keep anything the belonged to WHOAH HEEEEYYYY STAAAAAAHHHHPPP!”
Cheers from the crowd when Dare dipped and spun beneath the exposed left leg. She straightened up in the same breath, effectively wrenching Scotty’s gam up in a high standing cradle that made it all but impossible for the Oil Baroness to defend against the Front Facelock that followed. “GET OUTTA THERE ZOE!” Lamont hollered over the crowd. “DON’T LET HER HOOK--”
Too late.
Olivia dipped her knees and muscled the rookie all the way to high noon, then twisted in a quick circle and laid out flat to THAWHAM Zoë down on the back of her head and shoulders as the newest victim of the Quatermass Buster. Scott seemed to crumple in on herself before expanding in an exhausted starburst, a bit of which was quickly obscured when Olivia slid in and settled down on her forehead in a Reverse Face Sit. Very much enjoying the feel of Zoe’s features snugged against her briefs, Dare leaned forward, hooked Scott behind the knees and pulled her legs up and back, folding the Dubai Diva in a diaphragm-crushing Reverse Matchbook while Al and the FAWNatics counted off…
QUATERMASS BUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7L3Pt-G7o9U
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Olivia broke into a smile when the bell CLANGED, but she didn’t release the cover, choosing instead to patter out a nonsense patterns on those upturned buttocks while the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… OLIVIA DARE!”
Pushing Zoë’s stems aside with a little flourish, Olivia got up, planted a heel between the brunette’s décolletage and put one hand on her hip while the ref raised her other hand for the cheering throng. She was still basking in the warm glow of a ‘Mania victory (and good lord, it felt wonderful to win here again) when Isobel Lamont hopped onto the apron and climbed through the ropes. Polite enough to wait for the ‘oooooohhhh’s’ to die down, Bel said, “I’m going to have to ask you to take your foot off my client, Ms. Dare.”
Olivia didn’t so much as flinch, in fact she pressed her heel down a little bit harder and ground it back and forth. “Your client made some rather bold statements during this contest, Ms. Lamont. Promised humiliation, ruination and the end of my career, as I recall. Seeing as how I was already kind enough to remove my arse from her nose, surely you can’t begrudge me a little victory pose?”
Bel took off her Stetson and handed it to Al, who looked understandably nervous. “I begrudge you nothing, Ms. Dare. But I am paid an extraordinary amount to look after Scotty’s best interests and if that means going through you, then that is what I will do. Now I’m going to ask you one more time. Please take your foot off my client.”
Olivia deliberated for a moment, then shifted her position so that her boots were planted on either side of the expat’s head. Regarding the Texan with a keen eye, Dare said, “Tell me Ms. Lamont, do your ambitions reside outside the ropes or between them?”
Bel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, she hadn’t expected such a query from the veteran. “Can’t say it’s a thought that’s crossed my mind.”
Olivia didn’t quite scoff, but it was close. “Of course it has. But you’re a good employee and that is to be commended.” She looked to the ref for a moment. “Do you have a pen, Algernon?” The ref jammed a hand into one pocket and came out with a few coins, a half pack of Double Mint and yes, an old Bic. Dare took it with a murmur of thanks, then looked to Bel.
“Your hand, Ms. Lamont.” Bel shook her head ‘no’, reached into her hip pocket and pulled out a business card, which she offered to the Englishwoman. “Will this do?”
Olivia took it, motioned for Al to turn around, then put the little square between his shoulders and scribbled out a number. Then she handed it back to the blonde, who committed the digits to memory before tucking the card away again.
“Any hints?” she asked the bendyback.
“For when you want to branch out.” Olivia said simply. “Call that number and tell the woman who answers that you’d like to tour the facility.”
“Should I drop your name?”
“She’ll know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a victory lap waiting and your client could probably use several aspirin and a hot shower.” With that Olivia stepped back and tipped a nod to Lamont before strolling to the nearest corner.
Bel watched her just long enough to ensure there was no more trouble on the way. Once satisfied she dropped to one knee, scooped Zoë into her arms and slung her over one shoulder.
The sack of potatoes exit would infuriate Scotty to no end, but at the moment Lamont didn’t care. She was far more interested in the phone number burning a hole in her hip pocket. And just who might pick up when she decided to call.
ALL OF THE LIGHTS!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAfFfqiYLp0
True to form, every light in the building went dark except for the five pure white spotlights, which gradually converged on a point at the top of the ramp. Usually this would be the point at which the woman herself would swagger onto the stage, but this was Fawnamania and Zoë Scott was not shy of making a spectacle. It quickly became clear that she was intending to do just that.
Instead of the Dubai Diva strutting out under her own power, she was reclined on a large and ornately decorated mattress, carried like a palanquin at each corner by men wearing all-black dress suits and balaclavas. Scott’s reclined state maximized the lush curves of her body, her grey Calvin Klein-branded sports bra threatening to spill out and the matching bottoms showing plenty of honey-tanned flank.
It seemed obvious that Scott had expected to carry the Lightweight Title out as an accompaniment for her first ever Fawnamania, but having been denied back at Red White and Bruised she had simply bought her own more conventional belt instead, gold-plated and shining out under the intense light. She had forgone her usual jacket, but retained the designer shades, these ones in matching gold and with Chanel branding stamped on the arms. And her feet were similarly blinged in grey and gold trainers with Balenciaga branding.
ZOE SCOTT:
Pausing to take in the adulation (or otherwise) of the crowds, Scott reached one hand up high and clicked her fingers, just as the bass and drums in her entrance music kicked in. This was the signal for the building lights to strobe back on again, a frenzy of flashes with her spotlight the only consistent illumination as she was carried down to the ring. Her bearers placed the mattress down and then backed off silently up the ramp, but Scotty didn’t begin to get up from her reclined position until a different hand reached down to help her.
Isobel Lamont had apparently arrived at ringside too, the personal assistant having made the journey without ever stepping into her employer’s spotlight. She was dressed in her usual painted-on jeans and strappy black top, with a big Stetson shading her face. Reaching down and giving a firm hand to her boss, the big blonde helped Zoë up to standing and walked her over to the ring steps, waiting to receive those expensive sunglasses.
ISOBEL LAMONT:
It seemed that Scott wasn’t quite ready to give the accessories up just yet though, pulling her smartphone out and taking a few quick selfie snaps with the Fawnamania logo behind her. Once she was satisfied she handed the phone to her assistant along with her shades and then waved the big blonde away, turning to the nearest cameraman and impatiently beckoning him in close.
“This should have been my crowning as the greatest Lightweight Champion of all time!” Scott snarled into the lens. “Jealously is a terrible thing, and that’s why everyone is conspiring to hold me down. But don’t worry, because tonight I’m taking apart some has-been ‘legend’ in this ring, and tomorrow I’ll be demanding that this organization gives me what’s rightfully mine.” Message sent, she clicked her fingers, dismissing the cameraman and swanning through the ropes and over to her corner.
With Scotty talking to (or rather AT) Bel, the Announcer returned for the second half of his duties. “And introducing her opponent, hailing from Richmond, England in the United Kingdom, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and fifteen pounds. She is the Oncoming Storm, this is… OLIVIA DARE!"
Still on their feet from jeering Zoe, the capacity crowd still seemed to jolt into the air when the speakers produced the somnolently aggressive drumbeat of Hooverphonic’s ‘2Wicky’. Their throat-born thunder crashed all the louder when the lithesome Englishwoman appeared atop the stage to greet her fans with an index finger raised high overhead.
OLIVIA DARE:
For her return to the immense, dazzling stage that was ’Mania, the former World Champion wore a pair of stormy black bikini briefs edged with silver trim and cut high enough to offer the audience a tantalizing view of her sculpted hips, thighs and calves. The other half of her ensemble included a matching bustier, also done in black and edged with silver. Short black wrestling shoes and silver knee and elbow pads rounded out the rest of her outfit. Thusly greeted, the bendyback standard bearer started down the aisle, Olivia careful to keep her eyes trained on the towering Texan her opposition brought to ringside. She’d just slapped an outstretched palm when a sign caught her attention.
SCOTTY THINKS IT’S A SPOTLIGHT
IT’S ACTUALLY A LIGHTNING BOLT!
“Or possibly a freight train.” Dare agreed with a knowing smile. “Either way I fear Ms. Scott is far too foolish to get out of the way in time.”
Continuing her way to the squared circle, Olivia strode up the steps, glided out onto the apron and set her back to the strands. Gifting the whole of the arena with a grin as she draped her arms over the top rope, Olivia dipped her knees and tumbled backward to land on her feet as her anthem reached a crescendo. “Lovely to see you again, Algernon.” Dare said as Al Carpenter walked over to check her wrists and knees. “Tell me, is the charming Zoë packing any weapons in her undersized attire?”
“Nothing but some perfume that probably costs more than my rent.” the ref joked. “Oh, and she demanded that I tell Lenore she wants a match as soon as, and I quote, your weird, scrawny poetry-reading ass works up the nerve.”
Olivia worked very hard not to laugh aloud. “Oh… dear. And will you deliver that particular communiqué to your lady love?”
“Mood she’s in? Hell no, I like being alive. All clear here, ’Liv. Head to your corner and I’ll get things started.”
Dare murmured her thanks and did just that, her attention already honed in on the abrasive newcomer on the opposite side of the ring.
As excited and delighted as any other FAWN talent to be back on the grandest stage of the year, Olivia wanted to come out of her corner like a proverbial thunderhead when the bell sounded, yet that cool voice in the back of her head suggested it would be wiser (and potentially more entertaining) to let the younger woman take point, at least in terms of claiming the center of the ring. So rather than rush out, she propped her elbows against the top rope and crossed one ankle over the other all while keeping an interested, albeit dispassionate eye on Zoë Scott.
Over on the other side of town Zoë pushed off with the bell, the oil baroness seemingly unintimidated by performing in her first ‘Mania. She’d only made it a step or two when Lamont, just on the edge of earshot, called after her “Remember the plan Scotty.”
Zoë didn’t take her eyes off Dare, who’d hadn’t yet left her corner for some unfathomable reason. “I know the plan!” she snapped. “Shock and awe early on, then I can do whatever I want when she’s defenseless. Now stop reciting platitudes and go look after my things.”
“Girl’s dangerous, Zoë.” the big blonde put extra emphasis on the second word. “Get lazy or complacent tonight and she’ll tie you in knots.”
“She’ll be crying long before that ever happens. Now go!” She pointed swiftly to where her handbag was stowed and got on the move again, Scott quickly reaching the center, still unoccupied save for Al Carpenter. “Excuse me, excuse me, Olivia number two!” Zoë clicked her fingers at the former World Champion and looked mildly surprised when Dare did not snap to attention.
Smiling inwardly at the irritation she saw on the ingénue’s face, Olivia looked around, then pointed to herself and mouthed ‘me’? without bothering to leave the buckles.
The Dubai Diva rolled her eyes. “Yes YOU, unless there’s another poor bytch afflicted with your idiot name. Do be so kind as to step forward and receive your beating. I’m about to make what Lemarchand did to you look like the passable scrawlings of a mildly talented child.”
Dare’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly, but her tone was still polite when she answered. “Is that so? I wonder how you intend to accomplish such a feat from all the way over there?”
Scotty almost stepped forward, but stopped herself. “Am I too close? I’m more than happy to take a few steps back while you waddle your narrow ass out--”
She would’ve said ‘here’ if Olivia hadn’t raised an index finger. “Rule number one, little girl. Power doesn’t travel.”
Zoë bit her bottom lip, shook her head and looked over to Lamont. “Bel, please tell this poor loser what happens when people make me wait?”
The Texan didn’t get a chance to answer because Scott turned on a dime and raced at Dare’s corner! Leaving the canvas several feet removed from her target, Scotty drew back one arm for an Elbow Smash and-- Olivia twisted aside like a cool breeze, leaving the gray-clad battler to BWUUUNG her arm into the thinly-padded top turnbuckle!
Cursing the skinny bytch’s sneakiness, Scotty started to spin around only to let out an ‘OOOFFFHH!’ when the Blackbird shoved her against the top buckle. The impact itself was more startling than painful, the actual hurt arrived in the form of Dare’s left thigh, the broadside of which she THWHAPPED across the small of the newcomer’s back immediately thereafter. Zoë yelped, spun around and promptly buried her hands in the blonde’s hair. Giving Dare a rough shake, she growled, “You have no idea who you’re messing NNNNGGGHH!”
Olivia used the point of her knee this time, digging in deep just north of Scotty’s navel. Freeing her noggin with a single flick of her neck, Olivia hooked her right arm around the back of Scott’s neck, pulled her down and in and THWHACKED her across the chin with FAWN’s prettiest European Uppercut! Zoë staggered back, might’ve gone down on her butt if the corner wasn’t there to slow her down. Though every fiber was screaming for Dare’s blood under her nails, she threaded her right foot between the top and middle ropes and looked to the official. “Break. Get this cheating savage away from--”
‘OOOOHHHH’S’ and several ‘OH NO SHE DIN’T!’ from the sold out crowd when Olivia pressed her left hand to Scotty’s cheek and almost bloodied her bottom lip with a blatantly disrespectful Pie Face. “Didn’t run that Lenore crack by your handler, did you?” Olivia’s hands were raised and her voice was once again all sweetness and light as she acquiesced to the clean break. “If you had, I suspect she would’ve told you it was a remarkably bad idea.”
Zoë wasn’t sure what angered her more. The fact that this has-been bytch punked her out so casually or that she called Lamont her handler. “Bel’s my assistant, not my handler.” she purred to the blonde. “Though she may very well be required to prize me off after I’ve torn you to sobbing pieces.”
“You?” Dare scoffed. “Dear girl, you’re nothing but SPAM in a swimsuit. Or off-brand Portia with a very deep tan. We both know I’ll play with you until I get bored, then I’ll point your pert little arse to the lights for three or treat the crowd to the sound of your wailing surrender.” She paused, clearly enjoying the tyro’s bubbling fury. “Perhaps I’ll even sit on your face. It IS your first ‘Mania, after--”
Scott exploded out of the corner and swept her foe into something that was equal parts hair pull and Collar & Elbow Lock-Up. Flowing into a Side Headlock before the ref could offer a complaint, Zoë mashed Olivia’s cheek against her breasts, then doubled her over and grrrrrrrrrrooooooound the former champion’s temple against her hip. “You? YOU are going to sit on MY face?” she sneered amidst Dare’s grunting and groaning. “Oh princess, I was only going to humble you. Now I’m gonna BREAK you!”
Hardly concerned with the nattering referee or the booing fans, Scott halved the Headlock so she could fill the other hand with Olivia’s hair. Several good solid yanks earned a wail and a count, so Zoë returned to a more legal configuration. The instant Carpenter backed off she hooked her fingers into Olivia’s nostrils and pulled like she meant to turn the Briton’s nose inside out! The Oncoming Storm voiced an unpleasantly nasal shriek that delighted Scotty to no end. “Oh come on, how can you complain about that?” she chided Al. “It’s such a lovely soOOOWWWW DAMMIT!”
Olivia twisted loose of her attacker’s grasp, snatched hold of Zoë’s clawin’ wrist and folded it up between her shoulders with a stiff Hammerlock. Forced onto tiptoes to relieve the worst of the torque, Scott balled her free hand into a fist and launched a Back Elbow over her shoulder in search of Dare’s chin. It was close, but Dare felt it coming and drew back at just the right time. With the Dubai Diva momentarily off balance, ‘Liv crooked her free hand into a claw, laid it on the brunette’s honey-brown tummy and raaaaaaaaaaked from one side to the other!
Zoë cursed, scraped the heel of one boot down Dare’s shin and paid for it with a quick Kneelift to each glute. Totally unwilling to cede any skirmish to the veteran, Scotty reached back, grabbed Olivia’s hair and pulled like she meant to snatch her bald. “You can’t win this, bytch.” she growled. “Don’t care how many titles you’ve won, the Lightweight Division belongs to me now and you’re just another trophy to NNNNGGGHHHH!”
Rather than let Carpenter end the hair pull, Olivia leaned into the brunette’s back and charged forward until Zoë was smudged against the ropes. Then she slammed a single fist into Scotty’s ribs and eased up on the Hammerlock just long enough to wrap Zoe’s arm over the top rope. Then she went right back to it, ‘Liv working a rope-augmented Hammerlock, only now she slipped her arm up through the triangle created by Scott’s forearm and bicep. That made it much easier for Dare to lock her hands once she laced her other arm around the shorter woman’s throat.
Yanking hard on the admittedly illegal version of the Crossface Chickenwing, Olivia put her lips to Zoe’s ear and whispered, “You want to prove you belong in FAWN, girl? Reach four without shrieking. Then she clamped down and wrenched back, the former champ doing her damndest to make Zoë wail before Al enforced the break.
Shocked at just how painful her position had gotten in such a short time, Zoë instinctively tried jerking back on her shoulders. But she only tried once, the bolt of agony that elicited from her twisted shoulder taught her quickly not to do it again! An involuntary scream escaped her throat even as she bit down, clamping her teeth together and trying her best to swallow the low growling moan which rose in pitch and intensity until the instant Carpenter shouted ‘FOUR!’
“Thought not” Olivia purred into the younger woman’s ear as she released, retreating a few steps with a satisfied smile on her face. There wasn’t much Zoë could do except slump forward, but at least the presence of the ropes gave her a bit of respite. As she looked up her assistant was there waiting.
The big blonde caught her employer’s eye and mouthed the three words that had been repeated over and over again by her coaches in training for this fight; “faster, fitter, smarter”. Much as she hated to acknowledge the opinion of anyone else, Zoe had to accept that the reminder was needed, which might be why she let her assistant’s correction go without admonishment and turned back to face Dare.
Inching forward so she wasn’t actually touching the ropes, Zoë fixed the Oncoming Storm with a mock-curious gaze. “Bel tells me you used to be something really special,” she smirked, putting a strong emphasis on the historical nature of her opponent’s prowess. “I get why you’re satisfied just being a gatekeeper these days, but it must make you sad to be such a serial loser…”
Eyes narrowing at yet another insult, Olivia briefly feinted forward, pleased to see her opponent dip back hastily against the ropes and click her fingers at Carpenter. “You can’t just stay in the ropes forever” he grumbled, but the Oil Baroness held up one finger to silence him without ever taking her eyes off Dare.
“Obviously Lemarchand humiliated you right there two years ago” Scott stepped juuuust away from the ropes again, pointing to a spot in the middle of the ring. “But before that it was Burlingame. Then there was that night spent with your nose wedged in Portia’s slobby ass. And, just last month, your old BFF left you crying without even needing to hit top gear.”
This time when Dare moved she did it for real, bristling up to flick out a boot which would have gutted the brunette if she hadn’t dipped back to the ropes again. But now Scott wasn’t demanding a break, she was using the strands as a springboard, pressing herself backwards and lifting both feet high over Olivia’s kick to bury her boots into the Englishwoman’s modest chest.
The impact was more of a push than a proper Dropkick, but it sent Dare staggering back, while Zoë pushed off to flip neatly over the ropes and onto the apron. As soon as she’d landed Olivia was dashing back in to take advantage of the vulnerable position, but Scott seemed to anticipate this, ducking down and firing her shoulder between the top and middle ropes
Her shoulder speared into Olivia’s onrushing tummy with a satisfying ‘splat’ noise, forcing the willowy Blackbird to double over around the blow. Quick to take advantage, Scott grabbed a handful of hair and yanked the gasping blonde forward until the second rope was directly below the hollow of her throat, then dropped to the floor, holding on so that the steel cabling TWANGED into Dare’s windpipe.
Carpenter’s protests and the audience boos drowned out the little retching noises Olivia was making, but Zoë focused in on them and quickly decided she wanted to hear more. She hopped back to the apron and draped one tanned leg over the back of the Englishwoman’s head, leaning her weight in and pressing down to crush the former champ’s neck. The low gurgle this produced would have been extremely satisfying if it wasn’t for the referee’s babbling in her ears.
“Get her out of the ropes right now Zoë, I mean it!” Carpenter started his count immediately and got to four before the Dubai Diva released the pressure. “I don’t respond well to orders, Alexander,” she snarled at him, “but in this case I’m minded to agree.”
With Dare’s head still hanging over the rope Zoë took a few light steps backward along the apron, then dashed forwards and THUDDED a stiff kick into the Brit’s temple. A sympathetic OOOOOO rose from the crowd as Olivia was sent sideways and upward to land in a damp, prone heap parallel to the ropes.
ROPE-HUNG PENALTY KICK:
Pleased with how much better her strategy was working in the last few minutes, Scott took the top rope in both hands and impulsively gave her grey-clad derriere a little wiggle, secretly pleased with the leering noises coming from the crowd behind her. Then she leaped forwards, using the rope as a pivot to flip over and crash the full weight of her right leg down across Dare’s wide open throat.
SOMERSAULT SLINGSHOT LEG DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YMd6DMNDmU
With the Oncoming Storm suitably flattened, Zoë scooted around to place both hands lightly on her chest as Carpenter somewhat unhappily dropped to count…
ONE
T…..
Despite the Dubai native’s offensive blitz Olivia Dare was far too strong to be taken down that quickly, and she proved it by bucking her hips and firing her body up off the canvas. In a jiffy she had scrambled around to take the fight to her opponent, only to realise that the younger woman had backed off again.
“As I was saying,” the brunette continued her earlier monologue from a few yards away, “You’ve become the person everyone goes to when they want a nice easy title defense. That’s what you were meant to be tonight too, except this idiot…”she waved dismissively at Carpenter “and that cheating little girl robbed me of the lightweight title that’s rightfully mine.”
An incredulous snort escaped Olivia’s lips. “All she did was beat you, luv, and she’d have done it a lot quicker if it wasn’t for your HANDLER over there.”
Scott let out a little snarl and took a step forward. “You must be going deaf in your old age, I already told you why Bel is here. If you’re struggling already it’s going to be much harder to hear when you’re taking a nap in my tits.”
“It’s going to be hard to talk so much when you’re under my arse,” Olivia retorted calmly. “And I’m a lot less innocent than little Chloe. If you’re really feeling so upset about what she did then you’re going to hate what happens nexTOO SLOW!”
Scott stepped forward swinging an impetuous slap and instantly regretted it when Dare snatched it out of the air before it could connect. Olivia moved with lethal fluidity, ducking underneath and twisting the captive limb into an efficient Arm Wringer then firing one boot neatly up into the exposed meat of Zoë’s armpit.
The swift kick produced a meaty THWAPP noise as it drove into the twisted limb, coinciding with an involuntary wail from the suddenly snared expat. She hurriedly brought her other hand around to defend the tied-up arm and thus left herself defenseless when Olivia’s foot flicked up again, nestling into her cheek just as the taller woman fell backwards to deliver an unwanted helping of Sole Food.
SOLE FOOD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9G_dk0ctjaQ
The signature move had been enough to put away plenty of opponents in the past, and the way that Scott’s head whiplashed out of the impact made the crowd think it was about to claim another victim. But Olivia had listened to a bit too much bile from the arrogant girl’s mouth and she decided that there were better ways to send her message. So instead of going for the pin Olivia shuffled her bum around to the stunned girl’s crown and threaded those oh-so-deadly legs either side of her face.
“Back in the good old days I finished a whole load of girls with this.” ‘Liv’s tone was conversational even as she bent one leg and tucked it into the pit of the opposite knee, cinching her legs closed. “I’ve got better weapons nowadays, but you do seem keen on history. Maybe you deserve a blast from the past.”
Scott’s eyes snapped open in horror as frighteningly strong gams crushed down on her noggin. She immediately reached out with both hands, waving them frantically in the hopes of reaching a rope and finding none. “No chance of that I’m afraid dear,” the Oncoming Storm chided, “you’ve spent quite enough time in the ropes already, what else have you got?”
Glancing desperately around, Scott had to concede that the former champ was right; this deep within the fleshy prison she couldn’t even turn her head to see the ropes, let alone grab them. What she could see was Al Carpenter, the lanky ref crouching over her and babbling something about surrender. She paid no attention to his words of course, but reached out a free hand to beckon him closer and then, when he moved in, grabbed a rough hold of his collar and gave a hard yank!
Taken by surprise, the lanky zebra was pulled off balance and flopped down next to Scott’s writhing body. In itself this didn’t get her any closer to freedom, but all she’d been trying to do was buy a distraction and she quickly realized it had worked when a strong hand grabbed her ankle. With Carpenter’s attention momentarily elsewhere, Isobel Lamont leaned under the strands and neatly pulled sideways on her employer’s leg until it was safely under the rope by the time the referee had turned back around.
“BBBbbbbrrrrrr” was the best request Zoë could make in the circumstances. Carpenter was clearly suspicious but could only call what he could see, so after a few moments he reluctantly began counting for a break. Olivia didn’t seem too upset by this, but she did lean down to talk quietly into the writhing brunette’s ear.
“Once again you rely on a big blonde to save your chubby arse,” Dare purred to the trapped socialite. “I’m not surprised, but I am a little disappointed at the lack of originality.” She popped her legs open right on Carpenter’s shout of “FOUR”, rolling away and calmly standing up as Zoë heaved in big gasping breaths to refill her aching lungs.
Clutching at the ropes for support as her respiration slowly returned to normal, Scott fought to one knee and glared a hole through Olivia, who returned the scorching eye contact with equal intensity. After a moment to purge the veteran’s disgusting musk from her nostrils, Zoë started to rise, but stopped when Bel said, “You’re taking her too lightly, Scotty. Dare regularly submits Destroyer class wrestlers with those legs of hers. She gets them around you in the middle of the ring, you’re gonna tap.”
The newcomer’s upper lip curled back in a hateful sneer that might’ve been intended for Dare OR Lamont. Without looking away from her opponent, she asked, “Why aren’t you keeping an eye on my things?”
The towering Texan sighed and returned to her post, leaving the Oil Baroness to tend to the Oncoming Storm all by her lonesome.
Watching Scott close in with a wry smile, Olivia opined, “You know, if I had the expertise of such an imposing woman at my disposal, I wouldn’t discard her advice simply because it stung my ego.”
Zoë made a minor adjustment to her briefs, being careful to stay out of reach in case the scrawny hag tried for another cheap shot. “I’m going to sting a lot more than your ego, scarecrow. I’m going to strip you down, light a match and torch your legacy in front of the whole world!” Dare would’ve snorted in derision if the newcomer hadn’t immediately pounced, Scotty’s curled hands dropping south out of lock-up territory for a wicked grip on the blonde’s modest bust. ‘Liv yowled, reared back for a slap that got short-circuited when Zoë narrowed her focus to a pair of pincers. “Hmmmh, maybe I won’t strip you after all.” Zoë mused as she tried to set Dare’s dials to K-TAP. “After all, what would be the UNNNGGHH!”
The Blackbird scuffed Scott’s mouth with a short Forearm, then paid for her insolence with a quick Kneelift to the belly. Abandoning the claw for something a bit more emphatic, the Dubai Diva went low, wrapped her arms around the Englishwoman’s upper thighs and went up on tiptoe to “EEERRRGGGHHHH!” More defiance from Olivia, this time in the form of an Elbow Strike that gouged into the crown of her brunette’s skull. Atomic Drop foiled, Scott dropped the blonde, shoved her away and shifted weight to her back foot for a quick shuffle-step and Super Kick aimed at the point of Dare’s--
Olivia caught Scotty’s ankle, tossed it down and doubled her over with a Toe Kick that landed just above the waistband of those designer togs. Turning her back on the brunette as Zoë leaned over, Olivia hooked her arms around the other woman’s biceps in a sort of Inverted Double Underhook that made everyone wonder about an homage to her more musically inclined partner. No Decrescendo this though, Dare twisted them both around so she was behind Scotty with her head wedged between the tyro’s bronzed gams. Then she bent her knees and stood up straight, the Briton draping Zoë down her back even as she laid claim to her foe’s ankles. Applause from fans of technical wrestling and tawdry spectacle alike as Olivia streeeeeeeeeeeetched Zoë with a textbook Inverted Gory Special.
INVERTED GORY SPECIAL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=56UO1OoQO0w
Well away from any security offered by the ropes, Olivia spun in a quick circle, both to keep the brunette disoriented and to show her off to all four sides of the ring. Stopping so she was pointed toward Isobel Lamont, Olivia pulled down on Scotty’s ankles, then asked, “Is the pay really worth the sort of smarmy self-entitled claptrap she levels at you?” she asked the big blonde. “I know Portia paid exceedingly well, but Vale never let her run her mouth like that.” Lamont didn’t respond with words, she did however nod ever so slightly. Olivia nodded in return. “You and I should talk when this is over. I know someOOOOOOWWWWW!”
Zoë’d been trying to sink her teeth into the obnoxious Brit and when that proved impossible she drew her head forward and snapped it back hard! The improvised Headbutt sent a painful jolt through Dare’s tailbone and while it didn’t free her, it loosened the confining hooks enough for Scotty to try it again. A second shot broke ‘Liv’s control over her feet and Zoë tumbled down the blonde’s back to land on one knee. It was hardly as nimble as say a Lily Burlingame or a Polly Lockwood, yet it still left her in perfect position to THWHUMP a Headbutt into Dare’s crotch when the Englishwoman rounded on her a heartbeat later!
“Hey, watch the trunks Zoë!” Al Carpenter barked as the former World Champion doubled over in agony.
Scotty paid him no mind, she was far too enthralled by the sound of her nails raaaaaaaaaaking from the small of Dare’s back to just south of her shoulders! Olivia shrieked, straightened up and promptly had her cheek pinked by a stiff backhand Bytch Slap from the brunette. A defensive clinch was swatted aside by a dismissive Scott, who tacked on a Forehand Slap, then followed it with a Goozle. The crowd buzzed as Zoë ‘got big’ on her bendy adversary, no one really quite believing the Dubai Diva could hit a Choke Slam, but that didn’t stop them from springing to their feet when Zoë snagged hold of her foe’s waistband. “Your relevance in FAWN ends tonight.” Scott cooed at the gasping blonde. “In fact your last milestone will be to serve as the first step in my ascendancy to greatness!” With that she dipped her knees and muscled Olivia high into the air! For a moment it looked like she would indeed hit a hellacious Choke Slam, but Zoë Scott was above such gaudy shows of power, so instead she dropped to one knee and brought the Englishwoman down crotch-first atop the posted joint!
GOOZLED INVERTED ATOMIC DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfG0H3hmmEg
Dare’s knees, already weakened, were almost knocking in the wake of the creative Atomic Drop and no one was really surprised when Scott took her to the deck with a no-frills Double Leg Takedown. Standing tall with Olivia sprawled at her feet, Scotty stretched her arms wide, tilted her head back and demanded, “ALL EYES ON ME!” The crowd didn’t like it one bit, yet the newcomer’s presence was impossible to ignore and so Zoë got her wish even as she pushed onto tiptoe and dropped forward and down to THWHOMP her forehead into Dare’s groin with another shot below the belt!
FALLING HEADBUTT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrDQHsYdLKM
“UUUNNNNNNGGGHHH!” Olivia groaned and started to sit up, so Zoë shoved her back down, then swung sideways and settled into a Crossbody, the Oil Baroness hooking the far leg nice and tight through…
ONE…
TWO…
Dare kicked loose at ‘TWO’ leaving Zoë to fix Al Carpenter with a rather unpleasant look. “Getting in my way again, Alfred?” she snapped. “Olivia’s going to suffer for your stupidity.”
Working her hands into Olivia’s hair, Scott pulled until the blonde yelped, then hauled her up and let loose just to SLAP her across the face one more time! Olivia snarled and answered with a looping Haymaker, alas Zoe was prepared for just such an occurrence and she hooked an arm around the Blackbird’s exposed bicep en route to ducking beneath the attack. Coming out on the other side with her other arm coiled around Olivia’s noggin, Scotty spun on through and laid out flat to THWHONK Dare down on the back of her skull with a gorgeous Arm-Trap Neckbreaker. Another pin followed, Zoë planting a knee between ‘Liv’s breasts while she trapped the near leg in a snug Half Matchbook good for…
ARM-TRAP NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrrcIbgMW4Y
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
“BYTCH!” Zoë pounded a fist against the mat as Dare denied her greatness again. Stifling the anger before Bel could offer another obnoxious suggestion. Scotty got to her feet, strutted to the nearest corner and settled in to await Olivia’s return to boot-leather. “C’mon hag, you’re so f*cking tough, don’t keep me waiting!” Zoë demanded as Dare rolled to her stomach, then slowly pushed to hands and knees.
“FINALLY.” Zoë groused, her voice thick with exasperation.
Bead drawn the instant her target started to move, Scotty exploded out of the corner, the gray-clad battler picking up a remarkable head of steam as she bore down on the weakened Brit. Ready to dim Dare’s lights for good with her Showstopper Palm Strike, Zoe drew back and--”WHOOOAAAAAANNNNNNGGGHHHHH!”
The Oncoming Storm got low, stuffed her palms into that taut tummy and launched her straight into the lights! Zoë went up, up, up and down, down, down, her return to terra firma made immeasurably more unpleasant when Olivia stepped in and THWHAPPED FAWN’s best European Uppercut to her chin! Scotty’s neck snapped backward and she tumbled over in mid-air, landing on her side in a drunken sprawl while a pale-faced Dare crumpled to all fours and tried to will away the pain in her center.
THUNDERBOLT UPPERCUT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jv5h-5b4QHk
The arena erupted with noise, most of the crowd on its feet at the spectacular brutality of Dare’s counter. The noise barely reached Zoë, her ears still full of ringing and rushing blood. But Olivia heard it and used that buzz of energy to propel herself back to vertical and over to Scott’s prone form. Kneeling over her, she grabbed a big handful of brunette tresses and yanked upward until the dazed girl was roughly sitting up.
“I must have been wrong about the competence your handler over there,” Dare SLAMMED an elbow into the jetsetter’s mouth but kept a tight hold of her tresses so she stayed upright. “Any scout worth their salt could have told you what happens when people try to work low with me.” To illustrate the point, the next elbow strike slammed not into the Oil Baroness’s face but into a spot just south of the lettered waistband of her trunks, earning a sob of horror from Scott.
“So we have two possibilities. One, the lovely Isobel over there is incompetent in the extreme…” Olivia rose to her feet and THWAPPED a short kick into Scott’s bountiful chest, drawing another gasp as the overflowing flesh was pancaked by her boot. “Or two, that you are so monumentally, narcissistically stupid...”Dare circled around so that the next soccer kick slammed into the Dubai Diva’s spine, causing her to arch forward “…that you knew what was going to happen and just did it anyway.”
Split between massaging her aching chest and her tenderized center, Zoë tried to do both and ended up not really doing either as Olivia jogged away and ran back to deliver a Low Dropkick which slammed the olive-skinned brunette down onto her back. The impact of boot on face left her seeing stars, but she had just enough awareness of her predicament to roll over onto her front and thus prevent her shoulders from being anywhere near the mat.
Pins seemed to be a long way from Olivia’s mind right now though. Instead she reached down and hooked both hands into the waistband of the moaning expat’s bottoms. Hauling upwards brought the dual benefits of forcing Scott back to her feet while also jamming her treacherous togs up into her undercarriage. A pained squeal escaped Zoë’s lips, only increasing in pitch as Dare carried on lifting up and stalling briefly in the 12 o’clock position to give an extra tug on the bottoms before dropping over in a beautifully augmented Suplex.
DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FWT4VsKL5c
Throbbing with pain in several places, the Oil Baroness sat up and was yanked back to vertical again, but even her dazed state wasn’t enough to stop the brunette’s mouth from running. “You nasty little bytch!” she moaned, “you’re going to be begging for forgiveness before the end of URGHHH!” Both of Scott’s hands were busy trying to reposition her briefs, leaving her defenseless when another European Uppercut snapped into her chin. Her head was sent reeling backwards, her body following and her feet dancing frantically to stay beneath her until a back-first collusion with the ropes helped them out.
The springy strands managed to hold Scott upright while she tried to blink the haze from her vision, but they were no help at all when Dare’s boot loomed up out of that fog and planted into her jaw, sending her tumbling over and down to the arena floor. Miraculously Zoë managed to land on her feet, although the drunken way she stumbled backwards from the landing made it clear that luck had played an extremely big part in her escape.
Unfortunately it seemed that her luck had changed as Olivia threaded smoothly through the ropes and stepped out onto the steel ring steps, perching there for a second until her prey turned to face her. Scott just had time to say 'nooooo' before her jaw was snapped shut again, the Oncoming Storm’s gorgeous dive sending her barreling backwards into the crowd barrier.
DIVING EUROPEAN UPPERCUT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjh12Mb242M
Scotty crashed down on her back and stayed there, while Olivia slid to a stop a few feet away. In an ideal world she would have stayed there for a few more seconds to catch her breath, but she had to move fast if she was going to avoid the negative consequences of taking things outside the ring. Sure enough Isobel Lamont was close, striding around the steps and approaching at a dangerous intercept angle despite Carpenter’s shouted warning for her to stay back.
It was possible that the referee’s words would be enough to head the big blonde off, but Olivia didn’t want to take any chances. She took out an insurance policy by scrabbled over to Scotty’s downed form and lifted her up into a loose front facelock, snaring one arm as she did so. Her eyes locked with Lamont’s baby blues and the threat of a Daredevil DDT onto the thinly-covered concrete was enough to get the Texan to stop in her tracks. She didn’t back off an inch though, and for several seconds the standoff was only punctuated by AL Carpenter, shouting "FOUR!” loudly over their heads.
It took till “SIX!” before either party showed any movement. “What are you going to do Isobel?” Dare asked quietly. Lamont flashed a glance up at Carpenter, who stared worriedly back, but Olivia answered the question for her. “I’ve hit this on enough girls to know she’s not getting back up, and you can’t get to me before I drop her. ‘Scotty’ here gets counted out or disqualified and either way the bell will ring long before you can do any real damage.”
A small smile crossed Lamont’s lips. “Darlin’, If I come for you I ain’t stopping because someone rings a bell,” she drawled, shifting forward slightly and freezing again when Dare tightened her grip. “Let her go right now, maybe you can get back up into the ring before something bad happens.”
Olivia’s mouth opened but whatever she wanted to say was supplanted by a yelp as Scott jerked free of her grasp and thumped a heartless uppercut up between her legs. With Dare’s grip disintegrating the vengeful expat shifted to her side, keeping her head tucked low and she reaching one arm around the Brit’s back. A tanned leg swung out in front of Zoe and then back again, sweeping the Blackbird’s legs and sending her into an enforced back somersault onto her neck.
DE-LISTER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9eG8CZ8lIJU
Under normal circumstances Zoë would have hung on for a pin, but being outside the ring she simply rolled through from her back and stood up, finally freeing herself from Dare’s wedgie. “Why didn't you do anything? Get her back into the ring” she snapped at Isobel, taking a few cautious steps of her own and then gingerly clambering back up to the apron. Olivia was ‘helped’ up behind her, Carpenter reluctantly deciding he’d rather let the big blonde do it than have to end a match by count out but keeping a close watch for shenanigans.
Slipping through the ropes, Scott beelined to the downed Blackbird and stomped down hard on her shoulder, earning a small groan for her efforts. “You think you’re so edgy just cos you got Lemarchand a bit wet one time.” The Oil Baroness’s overpriced sneaker raised up and dropped again, this time grinding into Dare’s décolletage. “You’d be screaming my name within minutes if we were in a penthouse, but instead I’ll just settle for ripping your tawdry arm off.”
Keen to illustrate her point the Dubai native flicked a short kick into her victim’s armpit, drawing another groan, then took hold of the isolated arm with both hands and yanked it up into a Hammerlock, using the twisted limb as a lever to get the blonde back to her feet. Dare immediately threw her free hand backwards, her elbow connecting with Scott’s cheekbone and loosening the Hammerlock a little bit. But Zoë powered a knee up into Olivia’s glutes to subdue her, then set her feet and hauled upwards, dropping heavily to her butt and taking her burden along for the ride..
HAMMERLOCK FALCON ARROW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cR6CbxIcIg
Dare landed with her arm sandwiched between her body and the mat, immediately pulling her wounded wing up and cradling it. Zoë yanked it out again, laying the arm out on the canvas and pressing her boot down over the elbow. “Any clever little threats now?” she screeched down at Olivia, who was far too concerned with pulling her arm away to respond. Despite her efforts she couldn’t shift Zoë’s bodyweight, but the Diva quickly got bored of watching her try. Instead she dropped to her knee, driving the bony joint into Dare’s hurt shoulder and enjoying the yowl it elicited.
Maintaining her high kneel over the downed Storm, Zoë curled one hand into a claw and dug it nastily into the soft flesh around Dare’s shoulder muscle. This fresh assault on an already tenderized joint was threatening enough that Olivia brought both hands around to pry the invading talons away. She was beginning to have some success with this when the Oil Baroness deployed her free hand, forming it into a spade and SMECKing it squarely into the older woman’s crotch!
“I TOLD YOU TO KEEP YOUR EYES ON ME!” Zoë roared to the crowd as the fresh wave of agony sent the former champ writhed in her clutches. “Tell me I’m the best!” she demanded to Olivia, “tell everyone who beat you and just maybe I’ll leave you to crawl away with a shred of dignity!” Dare had jammed her mouth shut in case any treacherous words escaped, but the expat’s twin holds were sending wracks of pain through her body and she couldn’t block that torture out forever.
“How’s it feel, hag?” Scott jeered as she continued bearing down on shoulder and undercarriage. “All those fans that used to chant your name are gonna flock to me in droves after I make your tired old ass tap UNGH!” Dare brought her left leg up quick, driving the point of her knee into the Dubai Diva’s backside. Zoë grimaced, answered with a tart slap between the Brit’s thighs before reapplying the crotch grip. “I’m through playing games with you, scarecrow.” she growled. “Scream my name in the next ten seconds or I’ll show all the whole world how the new school does old school FAWNGH! NGH! NGH! ERRRGGGGHHH!”
Olivia went to work with her knee again, the lithesome blonde aiming squarely for Scotty’s tailbone. The first few got nothing but glute, the fourth however struck home and sent a nearly electric jolt up the ingénue’s spine. Credit the tenacity of one Zoë Scott, she maintained her clamps through this show of resistance and may well have segued into another position if the Blackbird hadn’t lashed out with a free hand, Dare THWHACKING the heel of her palm into the brunette’s chin. That knocked Zoë from her perch, the newcomer sitting down hard as Dare rolled over and crawled away on all fours.
“Shake it off, Scotty!” Bel called from the outside. “You’ve got her on the run, get after her and finish this!”
Zoë heard and followed the Texan’s advice, not because Lamont told her to, but because it happened to coincide with her own plan. Scrambling to boot-leather in pursuit of the Englishwoman, Scott raced across the canvas and THWHUMPED a heavy Double Axehandle into that wounded shoulder half a heartbeat before Olivia would’ve grabbed the middle rope. “Where you goin’, scrawny?” Zoe teased as she draaaaaaaaaaagged her blonde back to the middle of the ring. “Don’t you want everyone to have a clear view of my first ‘Mania victOFFFHH!”
Olivia slammed a short Back Elbow into the Oil Baroness’s tummy, doubling her over. Dare hit her with another, reached back to catch Zoë’s noggin in a Three Quarters Facelock only to catch a short Kneelift to that damaged shoulder. “Rippin’ you apart now, bytch.” Scotty sounded quite matter of fact as she dragged Olivia up from behind and threaded her left leg around the veteran’s left thigh. In the same motion she slung Olivia’s wounded right arm across her shoulders and hooked her left arm across the vulnerable limb to CRAAAAAAAAAAAANK back on a perfect Abdominal Stretch. “Tell ‘em now, has been!” Zoe shouted in Olivia’s ear. “Tell ‘em how old and tired couldn’t handle next year’s model!” Dare ignored the brunette’s demands, her only response a quick ‘no’ for Carpenter when he asked if she wanted to submit. Infuriated by the denial, Zoë crooked her right hand into a talon and affixed it to Olivia’s undercarriage for another round of catty torture. “You want me to go under your trunks, is that it, scarecrow?” Zoë purred in her victim’s ear. “Your rags are a little thrift-shop chic for me, but it’s a special occasion so I can make an exceptNNNGGGHHHH!”
Olivia’s left hand, which had pushed at Scotty’s entwining leg for several seconds with no success, abruptly balled into a fist and caught the unsuspecting newcomer square on the jaw! The hooks at her shoulder and hip went slack and Dare could’ve escaped without issue so of course she whipped around behind the Dubai Diva and coiled her in an Abdominal Stretch of her own! Willing to endure pain to inflict that much more, Olivia pressed her right hand to the side of Zoë’s face and puuuuuuusssssssshed down, the former World Champion dropping into a near squat that damn near folded Scotty’s torso over the post of her right knee.
With her left hand free to wreak whatever vengeance it chose, Olivia let it spider up the brunette’s torso to the swell of her chest. “Your level of confidence is impressive,” Dare admitted just before treating Scott’s left breast to a hard squeeze. “Astounding even, for someone who feels the need to still have her name on her underwear.”
Zoë grimaced, flipped Carpenter the bird when he tried to check on her. “Go f*ck yourself, bytch. That’s there to make sure everyone knows who’s sitting on your fugly AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH BYYYYYYYTCCCCCHHH!”
Olivia pinched Zoë’s nipple through the thin lycra of her top, then clamped down and gave the vulnerable flesh a quick, savage twist! Bel shouted for her client to hold on, unfortunately it was promptly drowned out by the crowd who demanded Zoë ‘TAP!’ as quickly and emphatically as she could. Dare paid no mind to either external factor, she only leaned in close enough for her lips to brush against Scott’s ear. “Humiliation is a dangerous game to play with me, Zoë Scott.” She twisted her wrist a quarter turn, earning a hateful curse from the Dubai Diva. “Now would you like to surrender or shall I strip you to the waistTTEERRRRRGGGGHHH… Algernon, would you kindly ask this strumpet to release my hair!”
Scotty sneered and loosened Dare’s scalp with another vile pull. “Let me go, A-Cup.” the brunette threatened. “Or I’ll feed you your own NGH!” Olivia relinquished the Abdominal Stretch, grabbed Zoë by the shoulders and drilled a Headbutt into the base of her foe’s neck. Scotty caught her balance after a hard stumble, whipped around on her heel and CRAAAACKED the former World Champion across the cheek with the most spiteful Bytch Slap she could muster.
“GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD, CUNT!” the enraged expat roared as Olivia checked her lips for crimson. “I AM THE FUTURE AND YOU ARE THE--” THWHAP!
Olivia shut down that prophecy with a European Uppercut that ‘clacked’ Scotty’s teeth loud enough to make Bel wince the tiniest bit. Barely aware that she was staggering like a drunk, Zoë hit the ropes at a pretty good clip but rather than take a moment to steady herself she exploded out at full speed, her right arm already locked and loaded with a taste of the Spotlight that’d make Dare’s head sp-- Olivia ducked at the perfect moment, leaving the fuming tyro to whip around and fire off a high speed punt straight between Olivia’s thi--
Dare caught the Low Blow two-handed and yanked Zoë’s leg that much higher, forcing her to hop on one foot. “Enjoy this now, hag.” Zoë sniped as she tried to catch her adversary with several hard slaps. “Because when I get my foot back I’m going to stick it straight up your bony old ass.”
The Briton looked mildly concerned. “Oh dear. Perhaps it best I simply not return it at all.”
“Like you could ever keep anything the belonged to WHOAH HEEEEYYYY STAAAAAAHHHHPPP!”
Cheers from the crowd when Dare dipped and spun beneath the exposed left leg. She straightened up in the same breath, effectively wrenching Scotty’s gam up in a high standing cradle that made it all but impossible for the Oil Baroness to defend against the Front Facelock that followed. “GET OUTTA THERE ZOE!” Lamont hollered over the crowd. “DON’T LET HER HOOK--”
Too late.
Olivia dipped her knees and muscled the rookie all the way to high noon, then twisted in a quick circle and laid out flat to THAWHAM Zoë down on the back of her head and shoulders as the newest victim of the Quatermass Buster. Scott seemed to crumple in on herself before expanding in an exhausted starburst, a bit of which was quickly obscured when Olivia slid in and settled down on her forehead in a Reverse Face Sit. Very much enjoying the feel of Zoe’s features snugged against her briefs, Dare leaned forward, hooked Scott behind the knees and pulled her legs up and back, folding the Dubai Diva in a diaphragm-crushing Reverse Matchbook while Al and the FAWNatics counted off…
QUATERMASS BUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7L3Pt-G7o9U
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Olivia broke into a smile when the bell CLANGED, but she didn’t release the cover, choosing instead to patter out a nonsense patterns on those upturned buttocks while the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… OLIVIA DARE!”
Pushing Zoë’s stems aside with a little flourish, Olivia got up, planted a heel between the brunette’s décolletage and put one hand on her hip while the ref raised her other hand for the cheering throng. She was still basking in the warm glow of a ‘Mania victory (and good lord, it felt wonderful to win here again) when Isobel Lamont hopped onto the apron and climbed through the ropes. Polite enough to wait for the ‘oooooohhhh’s’ to die down, Bel said, “I’m going to have to ask you to take your foot off my client, Ms. Dare.”
Olivia didn’t so much as flinch, in fact she pressed her heel down a little bit harder and ground it back and forth. “Your client made some rather bold statements during this contest, Ms. Lamont. Promised humiliation, ruination and the end of my career, as I recall. Seeing as how I was already kind enough to remove my arse from her nose, surely you can’t begrudge me a little victory pose?”
Bel took off her Stetson and handed it to Al, who looked understandably nervous. “I begrudge you nothing, Ms. Dare. But I am paid an extraordinary amount to look after Scotty’s best interests and if that means going through you, then that is what I will do. Now I’m going to ask you one more time. Please take your foot off my client.”
Olivia deliberated for a moment, then shifted her position so that her boots were planted on either side of the expat’s head. Regarding the Texan with a keen eye, Dare said, “Tell me Ms. Lamont, do your ambitions reside outside the ropes or between them?”
Bel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, she hadn’t expected such a query from the veteran. “Can’t say it’s a thought that’s crossed my mind.”
Olivia didn’t quite scoff, but it was close. “Of course it has. But you’re a good employee and that is to be commended.” She looked to the ref for a moment. “Do you have a pen, Algernon?” The ref jammed a hand into one pocket and came out with a few coins, a half pack of Double Mint and yes, an old Bic. Dare took it with a murmur of thanks, then looked to Bel.
“Your hand, Ms. Lamont.” Bel shook her head ‘no’, reached into her hip pocket and pulled out a business card, which she offered to the Englishwoman. “Will this do?”
Olivia took it, motioned for Al to turn around, then put the little square between his shoulders and scribbled out a number. Then she handed it back to the blonde, who committed the digits to memory before tucking the card away again.
“Any hints?” she asked the bendyback.
“For when you want to branch out.” Olivia said simply. “Call that number and tell the woman who answers that you’d like to tour the facility.”
“Should I drop your name?”
“She’ll know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a victory lap waiting and your client could probably use several aspirin and a hot shower.” With that Olivia stepped back and tipped a nod to Lamont before strolling to the nearest corner.
Bel watched her just long enough to ensure there was no more trouble on the way. Once satisfied she dropped to one knee, scooped Zoë into her arms and slung her over one shoulder.
The sack of potatoes exit would infuriate Scotty to no end, but at the moment Lamont didn’t care. She was far more interested in the phone number burning a hole in her hip pocket. And just who might pick up when she decided to call.