Post by walkindude on Jan 23, 2018 2:56:20 GMT
Friends,
Below is the much delayed next chapter of March of the Black Queen. Not gonna go into the obnoxious real world reasons for said delay, though I will note that at least one of them was a hurricane. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and rest assured that the last chapter will appear much faster, indeed it's on the top of my to do list for next month.
Oh, and I'd wager this isn't the last we've seen of Emily's latest adversary. What she lacks in experience she makes up for in sheer viciousness, as you'll soon see.
~RF
********
“Gonna give up soon?” the blonde up top asked the brunette down below as she forced the hulking swell of her décolletage over the protesting terrain of her opponent’s face. “Ohhhh, I know that look!” the blonde teased. “You wanna keep fighting but you’re running out of air? Is that it?” The captured brunette growled and bridged hard, but the blonde clung to her like an oil slick and she collapsed several seconds later, breath coming harder than ever against those encroaching swells. “Yeah, I think you’re just about done.” the domineering battler said with a coy smile. “But are you going to give me the pleasure of a surrender or am I going to have to watch those shiny cow’s eyes roll back in your fugly head?”
From the confines of a large three-sided tent no more than five yards from the action, another blonde sipped from a ridiculously expensive cocktail as the scene played itself. “Jesus.” Chrissy Daniel murmured almost to herself. “This thing’s a Round Robin. No one’s supposed to run the f*cking table on a Round Robin with eight wrestlers… BESIDES me, I mean. Definitely not some bitch who’s just busted out of her damned training bra.”
CHRISSY DANIEL:
Beside her, a man with the look of someone who made their money in something involving metrics, analytics or more esoteric form of heavy number crunching, nodded appreciatively. “A year ago you asked me to keep on the look out for a potential protégé. You can understand why she caught my attention.”
The Killer Imp nodded, flashed a brief smile as the blonde raised herself up, then dropped down in a miniature Splash to drive more air out of the hapless brunette’s lungs. “Oh HELL yeah. Remind me, what was her record coming into this thing?”
“Seventeen wins, no losses. All on California Beaches, all by submission.”
“And you’ve been backing her… out of the goodness of your heart? Or you getting’ something ELSE out of this arrangement? Tappin’ that ass after she makes bitches tap? Believe me, I know just how much kicking sand in some putz’s face can work up an appetite. So, are you just her patron, stud? Or her sugar daddy?”
Waite rolled his eyes. “Of course there’s an ‘else’, Chrissy, but nothing nearly so tawdry. Influence and suggestion is my stock & trade as you well know, and if the Brat gets as good as I think she’ll get, a favor or two could prove quite val--”
He was cut off as the bell sounded and the small crowd gathered to watch the finals broke into raucous applause as the blonde popped up off her gasping, greasy faced opposition. Elsewhere, an equally enthusiastic ombudsman stepped onto the sand and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission and the undisputed champion of this year’s Beach Cat Wrestling Tournament… Kat ‘the Brat’ Braddock!”
Feet planted on either side of her foe, Kat Braddock made a small show of dusting sand off her juggs, then she dropped into a deep crouch that THUMPED the medicine ball of her ass against the brunette’s conquered curves. “Don’t f*ck with me again, loser.” Braddock chirped as after she’d regained her feet.
Back in the VIP tent, Chrissy set her drink aside, got up and accepted the oversized check for fifty thousand dollars that she would in turn present to Kat Braddock. Tucking the gaudy thing under one arm, she turned to Waite and asked, “You were saying?”
Mr. Waite looked from Daniel to Braddock and back again. “Just go introduce yourself.” the numbers man replied. “I’m sure you’ll see what I mean.”
Intrigued, the Killer Imp turned and strode out of the tent just as the ombudsman introduced her to the crowd. Flashing them her best PR Department approved smile, Daniel strode across the sand to this year’s BCWT champ and presented the check to Kat Braddock. “Impressive work, Kat.” Chrissy told the ingénue once the photographer had snapped his requisite set. “Haven’t seen anyone ever come through this thing without a single loss.”
“That’s because no one in this thing’s ever been as good as me on the beach.” Braddock replied as she tucked the check under one arm. “Anyway, I gotta go. Thanks for the prize money Ms….” Kat trailed off and for a moment Chrissy thought the kid was trolling her.
KAT BRADDOCK:
Then she realized Braddock legitimately didn’t know who she was.
“Chrissy Daniel.” she extended her hand and Braddock took it, although somewhat reluctantly. “Three-time FAWN World Champion. The Killer Imp.” Still no reaction other than a polite dip of Kat’s head. “I’m the ‘Beach Cat’ this tournament is named after.”
Dim recognition flashed in Braddock’s dark eyes. “Right! My dad used to talk about you. Spent a lot of time beating up some hag from England, right? Shelby London?”
“Shea London.” Daniel corrected.
“Right. Right. Look, I gotta go Ms. Daniels. Thanks for the check, I’ll think of you when I’m putting the down payment on my first penthouse.” With that she turned and strode away, leaving Chrissy to look after her with the oddest mix of amusement and resentment.
Waite stepped into place beside her several seconds later. “Brusque, isn’t she?”
“Arrogant is more like it.” Daniel countered. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. You NEED a bit of arrogance to make it in this business. But it’s MY goddamned name on the goddamned tournament, is it too much to expect a little--”
“Recognition?”
“Deference.”
“Why didn’t you just slap some into her?”
“Poor form.” Chrissy watched until Kat was out of sight before turning her attention to the man. “You’re right Mr. Waite. Braddock is just the sort of talent I need in a protégé. She’s strong, smart and above all, she’s mean, but she’s also green and even worse, she’s never been beaten. Work this business long enough and you’ll come to understand there’s no one more arrogant than an unbeaten rookie.”
“I can believe that, but it still doesn’t tell me why you didn’t teach her to, how do they say it, put a little respect on your name?”
“If I beat her, if I, humble her, then I’ll become the Great White to her Captain Ahab. And I’ve had enough whale jokes from obnoxious blondes from Sheasy to last a lifetime. BUT, if someone else were to beat her, show ‘the Brat’ that her game isn’t as perfect as she thinks it is, all I’d have to do is be there in the aftermath to offer my assistance. Boom, instant protégé.”
“Clever. Assuming of course that her opponent doesn’t break her spirit in this proposed encounter. Of course there’s also the possibility that Braddock defeats her too. As she undoubtedly told you, she’s undefeated on the beach.”
“You’re right, she very well could win and I’m curious enough about this girl not to outright rig the fight against her. But little Nemo needs a taste of just where she fits out in the great big ocean.”
“And how do you propose we check it?”
“We’re going to take her out of her comfort zone.” Chrissy answered. “The beach and the penthouse are similar enough, but the differences can throw someone who’s only worked one or the other. Give Braddock a day or two to feel herself, then let her know that an anonymous donor is offering her one hundred thousand dollars to wrestle a genuine FAWN superstar in a penthouse overlooking this very beach.”
“An enticing offer, to be sure.” Mr. Waite murmured. “And what FAWN star should I say is opposing her?”
Chrissy broke into a wide smile. “You used to set up matches for Emily West back when she was in college, yeah?”
The numbers man nodded. “I did. Em’s and I go way back. You think she’ll be interested?
“A blonde like Kat Braddock? West wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to hang the first L on her.”
“Ok, I’ll make the call later today. Plan’s not without it’s risks though. Good as Em is, she could have an off night. Or Kat could prove to be even better on the carpet than she is on the sand.”
“I don’t see a downside, bucko. Either the Brat takes her first loss and I secure a protégé, or I have a front row seat while Emily West gets jugged out by a chick who can’t even celebrate knocking one back. Either way, I win.”
********
One week later…
Emily was in the midst of offering her own hypothesis on the fate of Miskatonic’s Pabodie-Lake Expedition when Ephraim Waite clinked a knife against his glass of champagne. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to take your seats, it’s time for our last contest of the evening. Introducing first, the lovely young woman in the black robe hails from Newport Beach, California, stands at five feet two inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and twenty-five pounds. She comes to us with an unblemished Beach Wrestling record of seventeen wins and zero losses and she is also this year’s winner of the Beach Cat Wrestling Invitational, she is Kat ‘the Brat’ Braddock!”
Polite applause and several appreciative murmurs as the fireplug blonde stepped forward and shrugged out of her robe to reveal a matched set of black lace bra & panties. Smiling boldly as she took command of the room, Braddock strolled out to the cleared section of carpet and put her hands on her hips, all while keeping her eyes locked on the older brunette.
Once the noise died down, Waite went on. “As for her opponent, she needs no introduction, but for anyone who might have just emerged from some sort of Doomsday bunker, the brilliant woman in the dark blue robe hails from Dunwich Massachusetts, stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty-seven pounds. She is a former FAWN World Champion and the Queen of the vaunted Black Court, ladies and gentlemen… Emily West!”
EMILY WEST:
The response wasn’t nearly so raucous as she’d receive at the FAWN arena, yet it was still a great deal louder than the ovation for the rookie and the gap got a little bit wider when Em doffed her robe to reveal her fightin’ attire of royal purple bra & panties done in crushed velvet. Answering Braddock’s evil eye with the ghost of a smile, West padded out to meet her opposition, though she made sure to maintain enough distance to avoid a sneak attack, just in case the Brat was foolish enough to breach penthouse etiquette.
Taking his place between the competitors, Eph launched into the last of his pre-match duties. “Ladies, as you both know this match is scheduled for a single fall, with a thirty minute time limit. Standard Apartment Wrestling rules apply, meaning submission or knockout is the only way to secure victory. Attacks to the eyes are not permitted, neither is single digit manipulation, i.e. the bending or twisting of an opponent’s fingers or toes. Other than that, you are free to do as you please. Any questions?”
“Just one.” Braddock sniffed as she treated Emily to a brazenly dismissive up n’ down glance. “Has this hag signed all the appropriate waivers? I don’t want to piss away my prize money fighting claims of elder abuse.” Kat smirked when the crowd chortled, though her pleasure was slightly diminished by the inconsequential snort she got out of Emily.
Placing a hand on Waite’s chest before he could muster a response, the Amazing Academic said, “I assure you Ms. Braddock, all the paperwork on my end is in the proper order. As for waivers, did you have to sign one as well? Or are they still calling it a permission slip at your age?”
Kat growled and closed in only to be stopped by Waite’s arm angled across her tummy. “You’re gonna pay for that, you old bytch.” the blonde threatened.
“This isn’t the schoolyard or the beach in case you haven’t noticed, little girl.” Emily noted as she took a step back from the fuming ingénue. “This is an actual penthouse, meaning there’s no place to run when you start to--”
CRAAACK! Braddock swatted Waite aside, darted in close and brought her palms whistling down on West’s cleavage! The first double slap was followed by another, Kat twisting her wrists around on the follow through to CRAAACK the brunette’s rack from the underside before helping herself to a greedy double handful. “Hmmmmhhh, not bad!” Braddock admitted even as she gouged her fingers into the other fighter’s curves. “Only minimal sag for a bytch that must be pushing, what, fifNNNNNGGHHHHH!”
West answered the mauling with some straight bludgeoning in the form of a stiff overhand Forearm Smash that THWHAPPED against the blonde’s tits. Kat staggered, put a protecting arm across her chest and thus left herself wide open for the viper-quick Bytch Slap that Emily brushed across her mouth. “I’m not some bored housewife or broke yoga instructor that’ll start to squeal the instant you grab hold, sweetheart.” West explained to the startled blonde. “If you want to contend with me you’re going to have to raise your eeerrrggghhhhh!”
The Brat closed again, snatched hold of Emily’s hair and yanked her head back at a savage angle. An answering slap flew for the FAWN star’s cheek, but West caught it in a white-knuckle grip with a few inches to spare. “You’re gonna learn your place, grandma.” Kat sneered as she tried to dislodge a great patch of the other catfighter’s scalp. “And these people are going to LOVE watching me teach youMMMMRRRPPPPHHHHHH!”
West spread her free hand wide, pressed it against Braddock’s unsuspecting face and clamped down hard! Wedging the flat of her palm against the blonde’s nose, West dug her thumb and pinky into the Brat’s temples and kept squeezing until Kat traded her hair-hold for a grip on the brunette’s wrist. “I do believe you’re the one destined to learn a few things tonight, Kitty. And they start right now.” Tossing Braddock’s wrist aside, Emily curled her hand into a fist and PAK-PAK-PAAAKED a trio of heavy punches into the younger woman’s flank. Immediately thereafter she grabbed hold of Kat’s waistband in hiked it up by several inches with a stiff wedgie. Braddock hissed into her attacker’s muffling palm but rather than expend energy fighting off the Iron Claw or the trunk tugging, she wrapped her arms around Emily’s waist, locked her hands and muscled her off the carpet for a surprise Bear Hug!
Groaning as the tyro compressed her ribs with a surprisingly strong squeeze, West bore down on her claw one more time, then let loose and managed a single quick SMACK to Kat’s upturned features before the blonde pressed the side of her face against Em’s own bounty to defend against future encroachment. “God, you’re disgusting.” Braddock taunted in the midst of forcing more breath from the older woman’s lungs. “It’s like I’m nuzzling up to a bra filled with cottage cheese.” She emphasized the point with another squeeze and several quick, hard bounces, each of forced a cry from her prey’s lips.
Quick to understand that Kat Braddock might very well overpower her in a head to head contest of strength, Emily buried her hands in the blonde’s locks and tried twisting her head into place for the first true smother of the evening. Alas, the Brat fought it every step of the way, going so far as to distract the veteran with a sharp wedgie of her own. “Don’t even think about it, hag.” she grunted. “I hate cottage cheese, but I’ll eat my fill if it means keeping away from those saggy OOOOFFHHHHHHHH!”
Emily relinquished the hold on her foe’s head, braced both hands against her shoulders and brought her legs up to ‘smeck’ a Scissors around Katrina’s waist. “I’d really advise keeping the trash talk to a minimum until you’re more in control of the situation.” West crossed her ankles, pushed up and squeeeeeeezed, the muscles in her legs shredding into shadowy relief as she made the blonde pay for her Hug. “Otherwise you’ll look more and more foolish every time I work my way out of WHOOAAAANNNNNNGGGHHHH!”
Braddock rose onto tiptoe, fell forward and released the Bear Hug an instant before she THWHUMPED West into the carpet with a makeshift Spinebuster. The Scissors around her waist loosened but didn’t quite give way, so Kat planted her palms against the carpet and jabbed hard knees into her opponent’s glutes until she was able to wriggle free. Snatching a double handful of hair the instant she was broke West’s grip, Braddock scrambled into a straddle, moved up and leaned forward and down, pressing her hulking curves into the FAWN star’s startled face!
“Feel that, you withered old bytch?” Kat teased amidst rolling her shoulders to exacerbate the stifling grind. “That’s the future coming for your tired tits! Now cry into my rack or I’ll eeeerrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhh!” Emily sank her claws into the blonde’s cheeks, scored ‘em with a quick rake, then finished off with a mean SMACK before repeating the process all over again. The Brat pursed her lips and leaned in a little harder, doing her best to bend grandma’s nose against her sternum. “Slap all you want, mummy tits. Won’t stop me from sitting on your stupid face once I’ve jugged you OOOOOOWWWWWW SHYT!”
Calm as she could be during a face-to-tits introduction with the most domineering new beach fighter on the California scene, West kept right on gouging and clawing at Kat’s buttocks, it made it that much easier for the breathless Queen to slide her legs in beneath Braddock’s stems and then wrench them wide in a Double-Leg Grapevine. It worked as she hoped, forcing the rookie to pull back far enough for Em to twist her head to one side. Unfortunately she was still buried beneath a brawny blonde avalanche and the sound of her gaping inhalation drew the Brat’s attention at once.
“Think you’re clever, huh?” Kat removed one hand from West’s dark hair, curled it into a spade and started digging into one cheek. “Think I won’t make you bleed before I put you back under, slut? You better hope your fake wrestling show takes you back after I’ve clawed your face raAAARRHH F*CK YOU, WHORE!”
The Amazing Academic provided proof of her catty credentials with her hardest wedgie yet, then took advantage of the blonde’s surprise by chomping down on those hateful raking fingers!
Bound and determined to finish the dusty ghost of Penthouses Past here and now, Braddock squirmed free of the Grapevine, pushed up on tiptoe and then drove her body down for a tummy on tummy Splash that THWHAPPED through the lushly appointed venue. West spat out the Brat’s digits with a loud wail, so Kat grabbed her by the wrists and pinned them high overhead. “You’re not even worth my tits!” she sneered at the FAWN star after a follow-up Splash earned a breathy grunt from the veteran. “But maybe, just maybe, if you submit in the next five seconds I’ll let you lick the sweat off after they announce me the winner.” She punctuated that delightfully generous offer with her third miniature Splash in perhaps fifteen seconds.
Beneath her, Emily opened her eyes and huffed, “Really, your Splash technique is atrocious. Even sloppier than Park’s, and you can’t even blame it on simmering nymphomania like she can.”
Not about to take that from some AARP reject she was grinding into the shag, Kat punished her foe’s chest with a quick cup on cup smash, then crouched down and launched herself into a near perfect handstand that ensured some real ‘ooomph’ behind the next-- “UUUUNNNNNNNGGGHHH!” The Brat cried out in breathless surprise when West kicked her legs up and locked them around the younger catfighter’s waist. Landing roughly on her knees, Braddock reached for the brunette’s crushing stems only to snarl her displeasure when Emily seized hold of her wrists. Kat kept her arms close against her chest in a defensive position West appreciated, although not enough to stop her from using it to haul herself to a seat practically in the newcomer’s lap.
Snugging in close enough to make Braddock feel the power of her curves, the Black Queen asked, “What’s wrong, dear? Not used to competition that’s anything less than awed by the contents of your bra?”
Kat snarled, tried to twist her wrists loose, but West’s proximity made it impossible. “You better hope you’re as good as you think you are.” she hissed to the smiling brunette. “Otherwise I’ll shred your nasty titties before I put you to sleNNNNNGGHH!”
Emily interrupted the Brat with a Headbutt to the bridge of the nose that startled everyone not named Chrissy Daniel. Braddock arms went loose on impact, allowing Emily to twist both limbs behind the catfighter’s back in a Double Hammerlock. In the same breath she leaned in close, relinquished her control over Kat’s wrists and cupped her elbows instead.
Hammerlock Bear Hug, Emily West to Kat Braddock.
“UUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Kat tossed her head back and groaned, the curvy powerhouse suffering her first real hurt of the night. “Problem, dear?” West cooed to her wriggling opposition. “Are those untested teats of yours not up for the challenge of real competition?” She squeeeeezed down on the Hug and added a none too subtle grind to Braddock’s growing list of hurts.
“Muuuuhhh…. mine are better and you know it.” Kat snarled. “That’s why you’ve got my arms locked up, you knew you couldn’t hang in a straight OOOOOOFFFFHHHHH!”
Applause and a few appreciative whistles as Emily bore down and the Scissors / Hug combination with enough force to send Braddock tumbling onto her side. Em tumbled along with her, not that the shift in angle seemed to bother her in the slightest. Indeed, she cinched the Hug a little tighter and alternately clenched and relaxed her stems, the former World Champion patiently forcing the air from her opponent’s lungs. “You want to know why I’ve trapped your arms behind your back, Kitty?” West teased. “I did it because you couldn’t stop me. I’d have thought a burgeoning tyrant like you would’ve understood such thinkNGH!”
Braddock shifted her weight and drove a knee into the brunette’s rump, then piled on three more in rapid succession. “Your ass is even more disgusting than your tits, grandma.” she growled. “It’s like cottage cheese on top and a sack of wet mice on bottAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH SHHHHHIIIIIITTT!”
Emily buried her muzzle against the side of Kat’s neck and set her teeth to the vulnerable flesh with a bite that would’ve made Adelaide Brewster proud. Drawing back after perhaps five seconds of the wicked gnawing, West abruptly abandoned the Bear Hug to once again claim the blonde’s wrists. Yanking those weakened arms over Braddock’s head in a single swift move, the Amazing Academic rolled onto her knees and once there transitioned from the Bodyscissors to a retaliatory Double Leg Grapevine. With Kat’s hands pinned to the carpet, Em rose up and came down with a trio of full body Splashes. Hers weren’t so rapid or forceful as her rival’s, but what they lacked in strength they made up for in pacing and angle, Emily timing her descents to drive the most oxygen from the blonde’s lungs.
“And here I thought ‘the Brat’ moniker was supposed to serve as a warning.” West sighed once she’d settled down to make the ingénue carry her weight. “Instead I find it little more than a label, proof that this purportedly ferocious fighter is nothing but a sniveling, snot-nosed, well… brat.”
“Eeeerrrrhhhhh…. you’re gonna pay for this, bytch.” Braddock promised after another attempt to free her wrists came to naught. “You’ll beg to worship my tits before I decide to let you MMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHH!”
Emily slid forward and pressed down, forcing her copious cleavage into the blonde’s startled face! “I fear you won’t have much say in when this contest comes to an end.” the Black Queen murmured to the flushed crescent of Braddock’s forehead. “Though I might give you the tiniest bit of control over the how, if I feel you’ve learned enough to make this little excursion worth the effort.” The Brat’s only answer was a furious hiss, a show of restraint met with silent applause by the FAWN star. Even so, Emily knew she had her blonde in a bad way, so she pinned Braddock’s wrists together and shifted control to one hand. With her right free to do its wicked work, the Insidious Intellectual reached below her own parted stems and treated the younger woman’s crotch to a dismissive swat.
“Give it up.” Em demanded in the wake of Kat’s indignant squeal. “You’re badly outclassed and everyone but you realizes it.” A second slap, this one a little harder than the first. “Submit now and leave the room with some dignity, or resist and wake up in twenty minutes with my sweat still damp on your upper lip.” West swatted her foe’s undercarriage a third time, then emphasized her control with a single strong squeeeeeeeze!” Braddock wailed and rocked her shoulders and hips, the sturdy little ingénue fighting hard to dislodge the domineering veteran. Emily feigned exasperation at the resistance, though in truth she was pleased to see the blonde maintaining even a modicum of composure. “You’re not really going to make me work the trunks, are you?” she did just that, punishing Katrina with a quick hard pinch that earned the loudest yelp yet. “Because I certainly will, if that’s what it takes. And a crowd this well funded will pay top dollar to see an unbeaten wunderkind humbled like an ordinary Hooter’s waitreSSSEEEEENNNNNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Braddock tore her hands from Emily’s grasp with a muffled roar and immediately pak-pak-PAAAKED a flurry of short, savage punches into her ribs. This was followed by a white-knuckle grasp around the older woman’s hips and a death roll so strong they switched places three times before coming to rest with Kat on top. Planting her knees, Braddock slid the Bear Hug up to just south of Emily’s chest and reared back to pull her brunette off the carpet in a sit-up made all the more uncomfortable because of the rookie’s perch on her thighs. “Oh, you’re f*cked now, bitch!” Kat promised as she crushed Em’s curves to her own. “I’m gonna finish the job that gravity started and I’m gonna do it ten years fasOOOOWWW!”
The Courtier’s thumb came out of nowhere to jab Braddock in the eye. “You really think you’ve got the skills to beat me?” West jammed her fingers between Kat’s elbows and her own torso and pushed down hard enough to slip her arms under the youngster’s encircling arms. Reapplying her own Hug with extra interest, Emily didn’t bother to hide a smile as she felt Braddock’s bounty giving way to hers. “You’re an arrogant, untrained child playing a game she barely understands. You should count it a blessing I’ve let you stay in the match this loAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BIDGNNNNNNGGGHHHH!”
Kat didn’t think, she simply twisted her head to one side and lunged forward to chomp down on her attacker’s nose! West shrieked, released her grip at once and went for a double handful of hair only for Braddock to spit out her nose in favor of a vile Headbutt between the eyes. The veteran slopped to her back in a stupor and would’ve stayed there for a good long while if Katrina hadn’t balled her hands into fists and just went to town on the vulnerable cartography of her foe’s tits.
Eyes narrowed to black slots, upper lip peeled back in a hateful snarl, Braddock put the full power of her brawny shoulders into a furious sideswiping lather that had West’s juggs sloshing so hard they threatened to overflow her cups. Lost in the mindless Valkyrie joy of breaking down an opponent’s resistance, the Brat kept at it hammer and tongs for the better part of fifteen seconds, only pausing to paste the brunette’s cheek with a spiteful SMACK when Emily tried to muster a guard. With that threat brusquely dismissed, Braddock filled her hands with the Brainiac’s bounty and went to work like a sculptor working some especially stiff clay.
“Did you really think these pathetic sacks were enough to beat me? HUH? ANSWER ME, HAG!” She released one claw, slapped Emily’s mouth, then pinched her cheeks between thumb and forefinger to inflict a humiliating fish-face all while keeping up her maniacal mauling. “What was that grandma, I can’t hear you!? You’ll have to speak up! What? You want me to pound these nasty tits even flatter? Whatever you say!” Kat abandoned both claws simultaneously, flattened her hands into paddles and returned to the task of rack ruination with a series of gaudy windmilling slaps that had Emily wailing in a matter of seconds.
From her seat safely removed from the action, Chrissy Daniel admired the blonde’s explosive strength even as she fought the urge to caution her against burning so much energy so fast. Of course there was nothing wrong with the occasional display of shock and awe to take control of or even end a fight, but conflicts on the carpet often turned into wars of attrition and she worried the blonde would punch herself out before-- ‘OOOOOOOOHHHHH!’ Groans of sympathy from the small audience as Braddock knotted her hands together in a single fist and THWHUMPED the heavy sledge into Emily’s tits one right after the other.
“Well, shows what the hell I know.” the Imp murmured as Em’s legs kicked into the air. “Kick her ass, kid.”
Kat didn’t hear this, all her attention was focused on the decimation of the old bag pinned beneath her. Catching the brunette’s wrists when West once again tried to protect her aching orbs, Braddock forced them overhead and slammed Emily’s forearms into the carpet no less than half a dozen times. From there she pushed up and eased forward, making sure to drop the full weight of her glutes on opposing tits en route to securing the Schoolgirl Pin. “Well, your tits make for terrible weapons, but they’re a pretty good seat.” Braddock snickered while wriggling her tush against the FAWN star’s smote rack. “Now, do you want to tell all these people that you’re done or do I have to slap the false teeth out of your mouth?”
“You really think this is over, dear brat?” Emily forced herself to respond at once, even though she was understandably sore in the aftermath of the tyro’s furious resurgence. “Look around this room, brat. Does anyone but you seem to think this match is ovEERMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHH!”
Infuriated by the has-been’s refusal to accept reality, Kat slid back and leaned down, all the better to engulf West’s face with her décolletage. Pressing her palms into the sides of Em’s skull to keep her head steady, Kat scraped her nails across the veteran’s scalp and sneered, “Oh no, I think your Polident is starting to fail, grandma!” Braddock giggled as she poured on the jugg. “Or maybe that’s just how you sound when you’ve got a mouthful of titEEERRHHHH BITCH!”
Em twined her fingers in the blonde’s hair and wrenched her head back at such an angle that her adversary was forced to create a little separation. “Good God, did no one EVER teach you proper technique?” the Black Queen gasped. “Free assessment, little girl. You’ve got an impressive set of tits, but they aren’t impressive enough to make up for such sloppy applicSHHUUMMMPPPPPPHHH!”
The Brat sat up, forced West to do the same and forced her into a snug Front Sleeper. Palming her own right elbow with her left hand while the right helped itself to a whole lot of Emily’s hair, Kat rest her cheek against the straining woman’s forehead and grunted, “You’re gonna talk to me about sloppy?” Katrina taunted. “I’m not the one with tits hanging past her kneeEEEERRRHHHH!” Em disrupted Braddock’s rhythm with an especially unpleasant wedgie, but the tenacious young fighter held on until the tugging gave way to weakened scrabbling against her lower back. “That all you got, bitch? Guess my technique isn’t so sloppy after AAHHHH OOOWWWW F*CKING SHIT!”
Braddock’s usual aggressiveness gave way to frantic wriggling as she tried to free her bounty from Em’s gnawing teeth. Halving the control over her opponent’s head, Kat flattened her loose hand into a paddle and smacked the brunette’s noggin half a dozen times, alas bulk of her own curves prevented her from landing any meaningful blows. After several more rounds of ineffective swatting, she abandoned the Front Sleeper entirely and forced the older woman away with an emphatic shove. On her feet in an instant, Braddock pressed a hand to her insulted cleavage and snarled, “You savage old whore, you’re going to wish you’d stuck to your fake, flippy bullshyt!”
West didn’t answer at once, rather she allowed herself a few precious seconds to steady her respiration. Eventually she flipped hair out of her face to train a seriously haughty smirk on the fuming blonde. “The only thing tackier than your threats is your outfit, dear. Tell me, do you come from money? Old money, perhaps? Because from everything I’ve seen from you, it’d take a rich, meddling parent to help you build this sort of undeserved repu--”
Kat came at her like a miniature freight train, the Brat going low for a Spear that would’ve spread Emily across about six feet of carpet if the brunette hadn’t rolled away at the last possible instant. The miss hurt Braddock’s pride more than anything else, though the sting of carpet burn on her knees was less than pleasant. She whirled around and popped to her feet, fully expecting to find the mouthy crone bearing down. Imagine her surprise then when she realized West was over on the far side of their arena setting a freshly drained glass of water on the tray of an immaculately dressed bartender. “Hey.” Braddock snapped. “Fight’s over here, hag.”
“Oh, is that what you call it?” Emily said with a sly little smile. “I thought I’d help myself to a little refreshment since it seemed you were practicing your pratfalls.”
The guests chuckled quietly but to Kat it sounded like a sold out house cheering on some insult comic’s latest zinger. “You think I’m funny, grandma? You think I’m a joke?” the blonde took a menacing step forward. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you a different kind of physical comedy.”
“Why Katrina, that was almost clever!” Emily chided. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you and this evening won’t be a colossal waste of my--”
Kat charged her flat out, both hands open and aimed directly for the brunette’s hair. She got damned close, in fact Braddock would’ve swore her fingers brushed their target so it was all the more infuriating when the Amazing Academic twisted aside, leaving her blonde to slam on the brakes or go headfirst into a local investment banker of some repute.
Smack!
Em tagged her opponent’s glutes with a cupped underhand slap that earned another laugh from those assembled.
“We playing tag now, bytch?” Kat growled when she whirled around and found West safely out of grabbin’ distance. “I’d have thought Old Maid more your speed.”
“Of course we’re not playing tag.” West replied with the same droll smile still on her mouth. “That would imply you had any chance of catching me. And for the record, I would beat your buttery little ass at Old Ma--”
The Brat let loose with a hateful shriek and went straight for her tormentor, Braddock’s fingers aimed at the FAWN star’s eyes. Emily bent her knees like she meant to engage, but instead she shifted to one side, hooked her right arm under the blonde’s left armpit and took her up n’ over with a textbook Hip Toss that dropped Kat to the carpet with a heavy THWHUMP! Pleased by the soft shiver of her attacker’s impact, West purred, “Tell me little girl, how does my fake, flippy bullshyt feel--”
“F*CK YOU!” Braddock rolled onto her belly and sprang to her feet so abruptly Emily backed off to maintain safe distance. No longer in any mood for the wrestler’s games, Katrina raised her hands and stalked after the retreating battler. “Don’t you dare run from me, mummy tits. You make me run, I’ll make you--”
CRAAACK!
The Black Queen darted forward to meet the youngster head on, but instead of a clench she dipped low and tagged Braddock’s exposed tummy with a single hard slap. “Is running really so taxing?” Emily asked now that she’d created some distance between herself and that Brat. “What a sad indictment of your training habits.”
No curse this time, only a roar of rage that Chrissy would’ve enjoyed a lot more if not for the realization that West might as well be paying rent for the space she occupied in Kat’s head. The incensed ingénue’s latest charge was faster than all her previous attempts, yet in the end it came to nothing. Worse than nothing actually, because Emily sank into a crouch and flicked her feet between Braddock’s churning legs. A single flex sent Kat tumbling to the shag in a heavy tits and tummy-first landing. Chrissy sighed when Braddock gasped. It might as well have been a bulls eye painted on her back and sure enough, West dropped down in a heavy seat just above the tyro’s knees.
“Your strategy of perpetual aggression is impressive, I can see how it made you so formidable on the beach in such relatively short order.” Emily curled the thumb and forefinger of her left hand into a long, slightly curved ‘C’ shape and wedged it into the deep crease the separated Kat’s right thigh from her buttock. “Such an approach would pay dividends on the sand, after all, those girls aren’t there for a chess game, they’re fighting for jewelry, pink slips, the keys to a condo or a month long stay in Cozumel and they want to win as quickly as possible.” She mirrored the long claw on her right hand and worked it in beneath the blonde’s left glute. “But where the sand is all about making your opponent look as bad as possible, as quickly as possible, the penthouse is focused on drawing your opponent out and slowly breaking her down until she’s unconscious or begging for mercy.”
“Screw you, bytch.” Braddock barked as she braced her hands against the carpet and tried to slide out from under the brunette. “I’ll never beg you for anyEEERRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!”
The Insidious Intellectual finally bore down on the Hammy Clamp, West using all ten fingers to put some serious hurt on the younger woman’s inner thighs. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that just yet.” West murmured after a well placed prod from her thumbs made the grounded blonde gasp. “Never is such a long time, especially for a willful child who’s never been truly tested. Of course it’s quite possible you could pass out from the pain at any moment. I’ve seen more than one self-proclaimed bad ass just whimper and slump to the carpet with no warning at all.”
Braced on her palms, Katrina pushed up as far as she could go, then shifted all her weight to her left hand so she could reach back with the right. She couldn’t get a hold of the hag’s hair, so she set her sites lower and clamped down on a West’s left wrist. “You like warnings do you, grandma? Here’s one of my own. Get your cheap-ass press on nails away from my legs or I’ll OOOOOOHHHHH OOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!”
Emily squeezed until her knuckles turned white, the pressure of it forcing Braddock to crumple onto her forearms. “You want your legs back, dear?” West asked once another long constriction forced a low moan from the trapped newcomer. “Then free yourself or admit you’re beaten. Because I have no desire to let you go.”
“Dammit crone, I am going to mess you up so BYTCH!”
Emily relinquished the Clamp, flattened her hands into paddles and spanked out a quick little salsa beat on her foe’s defenseless glutes. The impromptu Bittersweet Symphony got a murmur of applause from the guests, one that grew considerably louder when Emily slid forward into a heavy seat on the small of Kat’s back. “Your breathing appears quite labored, dear. Assuming tonight’s experience doesn’t send you scurrying back to the safety of the sand, I’d suggest finding someone to help improve your cardio.”
“Fuuuhhhh…. f*ck you.” Braddock didn’t like the wheeze in her response, but she couldn’t seem to do anything about it. “I don’t need to run a marathon to jugg you shyt, shyt, SHYTNNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
West seized the blonde’s biceps and wrenched them up and back, all the better to drape Kat’s arms over the strong curves of her thighs. With the Brat’s arms thusly neutralized, Em buried one hand in Kat’s hair and cupped the other over her chin. Then she pulled on the former and pushed on the latter, thus crimping the trapped wrestler’s neck at an extremely painful angle. “Perhaps not, but if you plan on facing the sorts of opponents that will make you famous outside your own zip code, you’ll make a more favorable impression if you’re not wheezing like an old lady when you put someone away.”
Katrina growled, smacked her hands against the sides of West’s legs and did a bit of clawing for good measure, not that it earned her much more than another painful jolt from the brunette’s Chinlock. “Yuuuhhh you’re talking to me about wheezing?” she snarled into Emily’s beatifically smiling features. “I’m not the one that has a f*cking AARP card tucked in her pantieSSSSRRRRRGGGGHHHH!”
The Amazing Academic released the Chinlock to cinch that arm across Braddock’s throat. Cupping her opposite bicep for additional leverage, Em transitioned from the hair-pull to a simple palming of the back of the blonde’s head. “You really should learn to watch your mouth when caught in such a vulnerable position.” West’s tone was cool, but a trained ear could sense the anger underneath. “And returning to the subject of conditioning, I do believe a comparison of our respective heart rates would confirm I’m faring much better than yourself. Now tell me, my dear little brat, do you surrender?”
Kat could barely move her head, the Sleeper was that snug, so she burned a little precious oxygen to bark, “No! Now get offa--” the end of her demand was cut off by a heavy ‘THUMP’ as Emily palmed her rival’s noggin and bounced her forehead against the shag. The aftermath left Braddock groaning and sullen on her belly, both brawny arms swaddling her head. She was still stumbling through a thick interior fog when the Insidious Intellectual laid claim to both wrists and got to her feet. Kat’s first instinct was to rise, a notion which cost her when West placed a foot between her shoulders and pressed down, forcing her flat to the carpet once more. Sliding that foot up to the base of her blonde’s neck, Emily jostled Braddock’s wrists and asked the room, “Those tits aren’t nearly so impressive when they’re grinding the floor, are they?”
Beneath her, Katrina bellowed and kicked her feet, both to very little effect. “Oh you’ve had it now, bytch! When I get out of here I’ll fuYAAMMMPPPPPRRRRGGGHHH!”
Em curled her toes in the Brat’s hair, forced her head down and punished her with a little shag scrub even as she tried to wrench her shoulders out of socket. “Is ‘bytch’ as deep as your well of insults run?” the Black Queen chided. “I’d have expected at least a ‘whore’ or a ‘slut’ thrown in for variety’s sake, even from swimsuit SPAM like you.”
“How about cunt?” Braddock rasped when she managed to twist her head to one side. “Does that work for you NNGGGHHH!”
Emily released Kat’s wrists and stamped down, driving her head and chest into the carpet with a quick Curbstomp. Pivoting to one side as Braddock flopped onto her back with arms stretched high overhead, Emily appraised the situation, then extended her left leg out straight and brought a gaudy pro-style Leg Drop SMECKING across the ingénue’s throat. The Brat flopped hard, but didn’t roll onto her belly, so West spun to one knee and got back to her feet. A Leg Drop barrage would’ve done the trick quite nicely, yet the FAWN star was hesitant to borrow from Sydney’s bag of tricks, so instead of repeating herself she sprang into the air, stretched out parallel to the carpet and TWHAPPED down atop the blonde’s hulking hooters! That got a loud round of applause from the jet-setters, even Chrissy, who’d always loved a good rack Splash.
Of course one person who didn’t love it was Kat Braddock, who barely had the energy to roll to one side after the hag tried to crush her. Very much aware of the ‘don’t hurt me’ vibes pouring off her vulnerable opposition, Emily grabbed a handful of hair and tugged the Brat’s head off the carpet. “You’re finished. Submit verbally and you’ll be allowed to leave of your own volition. Refuse and you won’t leave until I’m satisfied.”
Words were a little beyond Braddock’s capabilities at that point, so she raised a hand to answer the brunette with an index finger.
“Of course. How foolish of me to expect a well thought out response.”
Knocking the blonde’s hand aside with a dismissive slap, Emily went back to the double hair hold to peel Kat off the floor. The Brat stumbled into her tormentor for a weary clinch, but Em rebuked her with two cudgeling Forearm Smashes across the chest. With Braddock struggling to keep her balance, West slipped an arm through her legs, looped the other one over her shoulder and promptly scooped the youngster up like she was nothing more than a bag of leaves. In full control of the game now, Emily stomped over to the edge of an unoccupied love seat and promptly Body Slammed Braddock across the nearest arm!
Kat shrieked in breathy anguish and tumbled to the carpet, the formerly proud bombshell a jittery shadow of her former self after the wicked collision. Feeling no particular need to hurry, the Amazing Academic wedged a foot beneath Kat’s ribs and shoveled her onto her back. From there she stepped over, planting a foot beside either hip. The guests muttered in anticipation when West dropped to her knees, though they were respectful enough to keep it down until the former FAWN World Champ dragged her prey to a seat and welcomed her face into the Front Sleeper.
“No whimpering, now.” Em cooed as she strengthened the coil by gripping her bicep and palming the base of Braddock’s skull. “After all, I gave you a chance to surrender.”
Alas, that didn’t stop Kat from wailing the remnants of her air into the velvet furnace of West’s décolletage. And give the Brat credit, exhausted though she was, she scraped and clawed at Emily’s shoulders and flanks, pulled her hair, even managed to raise her waistband by a few inches. Yet in the end it did her no good. She was too tired and West’s seal far too tight. In less than sixty seconds she went from clawing to capitulation, the exhausted blonde swatting Emily’s lower back over and over again.
Emily kept her in the dark for another ten seconds, then loosened the Sleeper just enough to pull Braddock’s face into view. “You have something to share, Ms. Braddock?”
“Huuuuhhhh…. haaaaaaiii…. I give. I give, get the f*ck offa MMMMRRRRPPPPHHHH!”
Emily dragged her right back down and made sure to roll her shoulders, all the better to buff the blonde’s greasy face. “Are you certain? You were so defiant before, I’d hate for their to be any doubt afterward.”
Another ten seconds ticked off the clock before Braddock was allowed to taste air again.
“Goddammit bytch, I said I give.” she whined. “Get offa me!”
“Who’s tits beat you, brat?”
Kat frowned, but found her voice when West grabbed her hair. “Yours! Yours did!”
“I have a name.” the Black Queen said softly. “Emily!” Kat groaned. “Emily’s tits beat me.”
“Class dismissed, Ms. Braddock.” Emily sent the depleted rookie flopping onto her back with a dismissive shove, then stood up and planted a foot on conquered rack. She’d just slipped back into her robe (offered by a waiter who’d seemingly materialized from nowhere) when the ombudsman confirmed the obvious, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by submission… Emily West!”
“Thank you.” Em told the guests after her first sip of champagne. “The matches may be concluded, but there’s still plenty of celebrating left before us, so please, enjoy yourselves! One thing I must insist upon however, no one is to lay a finger on Katrina here. As far as I’m concerned, she’s nothing more than an art installation until she finds the energy to crawl out of this room.”
Edict set, the victorious Queen stepped off her pedestal and set out on a campaign of mingling that would eventually allow her to report some interesting findings to Chrissy Daniel.
Later…
“For f*ck’s sake, West. I asked you to scuff the kid up a little, not break her goddamned spirit!” Chrissy grunted after knocking back another shot of Jameson’s.
Curled up on a sofa on the far side of the now empty penthouse, Emily took a sip from her white wine. “Oh please, when did you get so melodramatic, Chrissy? The girl’s spirit is hardly broken, it’s simply a bit more malleable than previous. And really, if the young Ms. Braddock IS broken, then she’s hardly worth the time and energy you were willing to expend, now was she?”
The Imp frowned, poured herself another drink and nursed it so she wouldn’t have to cede West’s point. “You think she’s worth it? The time and money, I mean. Can she handle it in FAWN?”
“As of tonight, no, she’s not ready, at least not on any sort of regular basis. Oh, her looks, attitude and innate ferocity might carry her to a few low card wins, she MIGHT surprise a Nyssa Bloodwind or a Jaime London if they were having a particularly off night, but any lightweight worth her salt would run through her in ten minutes flat, perhaps less.”
“But the raw material’s there. Girl’s built like a fireplug and she hits hard, I saw that in your face more than once tonight.”
West dipped her head in acknowledgement of Chrissy’s point. “Absolutely. She could be a game changer in the vein of a Wendy Smith or a Lily Burlingame, however the key difference there is that Wendy and Lily both WANTED to be professional wrestlers. They wanted it more than anything. Katrina Braddock, at the moment, seems quite satisfied to jugg out the local gym rats.”
The same thought had crossed Chrissy’s mind. Hearing it come from West didn’t make it any less annoying. “Bottom line. What sort of time commitment am I looking at to make her a viable threat in FAWN?”
“In Orlando? A year, easily. In Bangor or Albuquerque? Half that, perhaps even less, if you went to management and agreed to appear alongside as either a manager or a tag partner. I’m not certain the Brat would react favorably to such an idea, though something tells me any training regiment spearheaded by Chrissy Daniel would involve enough ‘tough love’ to break her of such resistance. And if you did want to bring her to Orlando, I’m sure Giardi, Ellis or Vale could reinforce any lessons you’d imparted.”
“F*ck that, this girl’s my project.” Daniel replied. “If Kat Braddock succeeds it’ll be because I made something of all that raw talent. And if she flames out, it’ll be because I put her down.”
“Fair enough.” Emily conceded. “I’d only caution you against strapping too much of your own legacy to this girl’s admittedly strong back. Portia tried something similar with another willful young woman and… well, Alexis finally did what Shea never could.”
“Don’t you ever worry about Lemarchand doing the same to you? Bytch is skinny, but she’s tough and mean. And smart.”
West refilled her glass before answering. “Of course I do. But order is my legacy, Chrissy. Keeping FAWN from destroying itself back in those days when it seemed every week birthed a new faction looking ‘take over’ the place, that’s what I’ll point to when my career is over. And FAWN is quite stable these days, isn’t it? I certainly couldn’t have stepped away for so long if the board was about to fall apart.”
Something in the brunette’s words piqued Chrissy’s curiosity. “So now for the million dollar question. When are you coming back? ARE you coming back?”
The Black Queen shrugged. “I’ll probably make an appearance in the spring, if something interesting presents itself. But a one off against any of FAWN’s ‘New Era’ holds no appeal. You know me, Imp. I love campaigns. I love the long game. And right now the pieces for such an endeavor simply aren’t there. Shea’s gone. Portia’s ruined. Poor Lisa is doped up to her eyebrows and Kylie--”
“I hate that bytch.” Chrissy growled.
Emily made no move to correct her. “--Kylie sold her soul.” She smiled, rolled her eyes. “Who knows. Olivia Dare could lose her mind tomorrow morning and cause all sorts of problems, THAT’S the kind of cataclysm that I’d relish setting right, but it doesn’t seem likely, does it?”
Chrissy raised her glass. “To chaos.”
Emily did the same and they toasted from opposite sides of the room. Her phone trilled immediately thereafter. West pulled the gadget from a small clutch, punched in a ridiculously complex password and found a text message from Lenore:
Ems,
Got a heads up from Kent.
FAWN’s about to sign DD.
He thinks she’ll debut at March to War.
~L
The brunette’s smile caught Chrissy’s attention. “Got some chaos breaking out?”
“Nothing so dramatic as that I’m afraid.” Emily answered once the phone was safely tucked away. “Just a reminder that I need to introduce myself to one of our newest coworkers. Hardly a cataclysm, but the look on her face should be quite entertaining, nonetheless.”
Below is the much delayed next chapter of March of the Black Queen. Not gonna go into the obnoxious real world reasons for said delay, though I will note that at least one of them was a hurricane. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and rest assured that the last chapter will appear much faster, indeed it's on the top of my to do list for next month.
Oh, and I'd wager this isn't the last we've seen of Emily's latest adversary. What she lacks in experience she makes up for in sheer viciousness, as you'll soon see.
~RF
********
“Gonna give up soon?” the blonde up top asked the brunette down below as she forced the hulking swell of her décolletage over the protesting terrain of her opponent’s face. “Ohhhh, I know that look!” the blonde teased. “You wanna keep fighting but you’re running out of air? Is that it?” The captured brunette growled and bridged hard, but the blonde clung to her like an oil slick and she collapsed several seconds later, breath coming harder than ever against those encroaching swells. “Yeah, I think you’re just about done.” the domineering battler said with a coy smile. “But are you going to give me the pleasure of a surrender or am I going to have to watch those shiny cow’s eyes roll back in your fugly head?”
From the confines of a large three-sided tent no more than five yards from the action, another blonde sipped from a ridiculously expensive cocktail as the scene played itself. “Jesus.” Chrissy Daniel murmured almost to herself. “This thing’s a Round Robin. No one’s supposed to run the f*cking table on a Round Robin with eight wrestlers… BESIDES me, I mean. Definitely not some bitch who’s just busted out of her damned training bra.”
CHRISSY DANIEL:
Beside her, a man with the look of someone who made their money in something involving metrics, analytics or more esoteric form of heavy number crunching, nodded appreciatively. “A year ago you asked me to keep on the look out for a potential protégé. You can understand why she caught my attention.”
The Killer Imp nodded, flashed a brief smile as the blonde raised herself up, then dropped down in a miniature Splash to drive more air out of the hapless brunette’s lungs. “Oh HELL yeah. Remind me, what was her record coming into this thing?”
“Seventeen wins, no losses. All on California Beaches, all by submission.”
“And you’ve been backing her… out of the goodness of your heart? Or you getting’ something ELSE out of this arrangement? Tappin’ that ass after she makes bitches tap? Believe me, I know just how much kicking sand in some putz’s face can work up an appetite. So, are you just her patron, stud? Or her sugar daddy?”
Waite rolled his eyes. “Of course there’s an ‘else’, Chrissy, but nothing nearly so tawdry. Influence and suggestion is my stock & trade as you well know, and if the Brat gets as good as I think she’ll get, a favor or two could prove quite val--”
He was cut off as the bell sounded and the small crowd gathered to watch the finals broke into raucous applause as the blonde popped up off her gasping, greasy faced opposition. Elsewhere, an equally enthusiastic ombudsman stepped onto the sand and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission and the undisputed champion of this year’s Beach Cat Wrestling Tournament… Kat ‘the Brat’ Braddock!”
Feet planted on either side of her foe, Kat Braddock made a small show of dusting sand off her juggs, then she dropped into a deep crouch that THUMPED the medicine ball of her ass against the brunette’s conquered curves. “Don’t f*ck with me again, loser.” Braddock chirped as after she’d regained her feet.
Back in the VIP tent, Chrissy set her drink aside, got up and accepted the oversized check for fifty thousand dollars that she would in turn present to Kat Braddock. Tucking the gaudy thing under one arm, she turned to Waite and asked, “You were saying?”
Mr. Waite looked from Daniel to Braddock and back again. “Just go introduce yourself.” the numbers man replied. “I’m sure you’ll see what I mean.”
Intrigued, the Killer Imp turned and strode out of the tent just as the ombudsman introduced her to the crowd. Flashing them her best PR Department approved smile, Daniel strode across the sand to this year’s BCWT champ and presented the check to Kat Braddock. “Impressive work, Kat.” Chrissy told the ingénue once the photographer had snapped his requisite set. “Haven’t seen anyone ever come through this thing without a single loss.”
“That’s because no one in this thing’s ever been as good as me on the beach.” Braddock replied as she tucked the check under one arm. “Anyway, I gotta go. Thanks for the prize money Ms….” Kat trailed off and for a moment Chrissy thought the kid was trolling her.
KAT BRADDOCK:
Then she realized Braddock legitimately didn’t know who she was.
“Chrissy Daniel.” she extended her hand and Braddock took it, although somewhat reluctantly. “Three-time FAWN World Champion. The Killer Imp.” Still no reaction other than a polite dip of Kat’s head. “I’m the ‘Beach Cat’ this tournament is named after.”
Dim recognition flashed in Braddock’s dark eyes. “Right! My dad used to talk about you. Spent a lot of time beating up some hag from England, right? Shelby London?”
“Shea London.” Daniel corrected.
“Right. Right. Look, I gotta go Ms. Daniels. Thanks for the check, I’ll think of you when I’m putting the down payment on my first penthouse.” With that she turned and strode away, leaving Chrissy to look after her with the oddest mix of amusement and resentment.
Waite stepped into place beside her several seconds later. “Brusque, isn’t she?”
“Arrogant is more like it.” Daniel countered. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. You NEED a bit of arrogance to make it in this business. But it’s MY goddamned name on the goddamned tournament, is it too much to expect a little--”
“Recognition?”
“Deference.”
“Why didn’t you just slap some into her?”
“Poor form.” Chrissy watched until Kat was out of sight before turning her attention to the man. “You’re right Mr. Waite. Braddock is just the sort of talent I need in a protégé. She’s strong, smart and above all, she’s mean, but she’s also green and even worse, she’s never been beaten. Work this business long enough and you’ll come to understand there’s no one more arrogant than an unbeaten rookie.”
“I can believe that, but it still doesn’t tell me why you didn’t teach her to, how do they say it, put a little respect on your name?”
“If I beat her, if I, humble her, then I’ll become the Great White to her Captain Ahab. And I’ve had enough whale jokes from obnoxious blondes from Sheasy to last a lifetime. BUT, if someone else were to beat her, show ‘the Brat’ that her game isn’t as perfect as she thinks it is, all I’d have to do is be there in the aftermath to offer my assistance. Boom, instant protégé.”
“Clever. Assuming of course that her opponent doesn’t break her spirit in this proposed encounter. Of course there’s also the possibility that Braddock defeats her too. As she undoubtedly told you, she’s undefeated on the beach.”
“You’re right, she very well could win and I’m curious enough about this girl not to outright rig the fight against her. But little Nemo needs a taste of just where she fits out in the great big ocean.”
“And how do you propose we check it?”
“We’re going to take her out of her comfort zone.” Chrissy answered. “The beach and the penthouse are similar enough, but the differences can throw someone who’s only worked one or the other. Give Braddock a day or two to feel herself, then let her know that an anonymous donor is offering her one hundred thousand dollars to wrestle a genuine FAWN superstar in a penthouse overlooking this very beach.”
“An enticing offer, to be sure.” Mr. Waite murmured. “And what FAWN star should I say is opposing her?”
Chrissy broke into a wide smile. “You used to set up matches for Emily West back when she was in college, yeah?”
The numbers man nodded. “I did. Em’s and I go way back. You think she’ll be interested?
“A blonde like Kat Braddock? West wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to hang the first L on her.”
“Ok, I’ll make the call later today. Plan’s not without it’s risks though. Good as Em is, she could have an off night. Or Kat could prove to be even better on the carpet than she is on the sand.”
“I don’t see a downside, bucko. Either the Brat takes her first loss and I secure a protégé, or I have a front row seat while Emily West gets jugged out by a chick who can’t even celebrate knocking one back. Either way, I win.”
********
One week later…
Emily was in the midst of offering her own hypothesis on the fate of Miskatonic’s Pabodie-Lake Expedition when Ephraim Waite clinked a knife against his glass of champagne. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to take your seats, it’s time for our last contest of the evening. Introducing first, the lovely young woman in the black robe hails from Newport Beach, California, stands at five feet two inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and twenty-five pounds. She comes to us with an unblemished Beach Wrestling record of seventeen wins and zero losses and she is also this year’s winner of the Beach Cat Wrestling Invitational, she is Kat ‘the Brat’ Braddock!”
Polite applause and several appreciative murmurs as the fireplug blonde stepped forward and shrugged out of her robe to reveal a matched set of black lace bra & panties. Smiling boldly as she took command of the room, Braddock strolled out to the cleared section of carpet and put her hands on her hips, all while keeping her eyes locked on the older brunette.
Once the noise died down, Waite went on. “As for her opponent, she needs no introduction, but for anyone who might have just emerged from some sort of Doomsday bunker, the brilliant woman in the dark blue robe hails from Dunwich Massachusetts, stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty-seven pounds. She is a former FAWN World Champion and the Queen of the vaunted Black Court, ladies and gentlemen… Emily West!”
EMILY WEST:
The response wasn’t nearly so raucous as she’d receive at the FAWN arena, yet it was still a great deal louder than the ovation for the rookie and the gap got a little bit wider when Em doffed her robe to reveal her fightin’ attire of royal purple bra & panties done in crushed velvet. Answering Braddock’s evil eye with the ghost of a smile, West padded out to meet her opposition, though she made sure to maintain enough distance to avoid a sneak attack, just in case the Brat was foolish enough to breach penthouse etiquette.
Taking his place between the competitors, Eph launched into the last of his pre-match duties. “Ladies, as you both know this match is scheduled for a single fall, with a thirty minute time limit. Standard Apartment Wrestling rules apply, meaning submission or knockout is the only way to secure victory. Attacks to the eyes are not permitted, neither is single digit manipulation, i.e. the bending or twisting of an opponent’s fingers or toes. Other than that, you are free to do as you please. Any questions?”
“Just one.” Braddock sniffed as she treated Emily to a brazenly dismissive up n’ down glance. “Has this hag signed all the appropriate waivers? I don’t want to piss away my prize money fighting claims of elder abuse.” Kat smirked when the crowd chortled, though her pleasure was slightly diminished by the inconsequential snort she got out of Emily.
Placing a hand on Waite’s chest before he could muster a response, the Amazing Academic said, “I assure you Ms. Braddock, all the paperwork on my end is in the proper order. As for waivers, did you have to sign one as well? Or are they still calling it a permission slip at your age?”
Kat growled and closed in only to be stopped by Waite’s arm angled across her tummy. “You’re gonna pay for that, you old bytch.” the blonde threatened.
“This isn’t the schoolyard or the beach in case you haven’t noticed, little girl.” Emily noted as she took a step back from the fuming ingénue. “This is an actual penthouse, meaning there’s no place to run when you start to--”
CRAAACK! Braddock swatted Waite aside, darted in close and brought her palms whistling down on West’s cleavage! The first double slap was followed by another, Kat twisting her wrists around on the follow through to CRAAACK the brunette’s rack from the underside before helping herself to a greedy double handful. “Hmmmmhhh, not bad!” Braddock admitted even as she gouged her fingers into the other fighter’s curves. “Only minimal sag for a bytch that must be pushing, what, fifNNNNNGGHHHHH!”
West answered the mauling with some straight bludgeoning in the form of a stiff overhand Forearm Smash that THWHAPPED against the blonde’s tits. Kat staggered, put a protecting arm across her chest and thus left herself wide open for the viper-quick Bytch Slap that Emily brushed across her mouth. “I’m not some bored housewife or broke yoga instructor that’ll start to squeal the instant you grab hold, sweetheart.” West explained to the startled blonde. “If you want to contend with me you’re going to have to raise your eeerrrggghhhhh!”
The Brat closed again, snatched hold of Emily’s hair and yanked her head back at a savage angle. An answering slap flew for the FAWN star’s cheek, but West caught it in a white-knuckle grip with a few inches to spare. “You’re gonna learn your place, grandma.” Kat sneered as she tried to dislodge a great patch of the other catfighter’s scalp. “And these people are going to LOVE watching me teach youMMMMRRRPPPPHHHHHH!”
West spread her free hand wide, pressed it against Braddock’s unsuspecting face and clamped down hard! Wedging the flat of her palm against the blonde’s nose, West dug her thumb and pinky into the Brat’s temples and kept squeezing until Kat traded her hair-hold for a grip on the brunette’s wrist. “I do believe you’re the one destined to learn a few things tonight, Kitty. And they start right now.” Tossing Braddock’s wrist aside, Emily curled her hand into a fist and PAK-PAK-PAAAKED a trio of heavy punches into the younger woman’s flank. Immediately thereafter she grabbed hold of Kat’s waistband in hiked it up by several inches with a stiff wedgie. Braddock hissed into her attacker’s muffling palm but rather than expend energy fighting off the Iron Claw or the trunk tugging, she wrapped her arms around Emily’s waist, locked her hands and muscled her off the carpet for a surprise Bear Hug!
Groaning as the tyro compressed her ribs with a surprisingly strong squeeze, West bore down on her claw one more time, then let loose and managed a single quick SMACK to Kat’s upturned features before the blonde pressed the side of her face against Em’s own bounty to defend against future encroachment. “God, you’re disgusting.” Braddock taunted in the midst of forcing more breath from the older woman’s lungs. “It’s like I’m nuzzling up to a bra filled with cottage cheese.” She emphasized the point with another squeeze and several quick, hard bounces, each of forced a cry from her prey’s lips.
Quick to understand that Kat Braddock might very well overpower her in a head to head contest of strength, Emily buried her hands in the blonde’s locks and tried twisting her head into place for the first true smother of the evening. Alas, the Brat fought it every step of the way, going so far as to distract the veteran with a sharp wedgie of her own. “Don’t even think about it, hag.” she grunted. “I hate cottage cheese, but I’ll eat my fill if it means keeping away from those saggy OOOOFFHHHHHHHH!”
Emily relinquished the hold on her foe’s head, braced both hands against her shoulders and brought her legs up to ‘smeck’ a Scissors around Katrina’s waist. “I’d really advise keeping the trash talk to a minimum until you’re more in control of the situation.” West crossed her ankles, pushed up and squeeeeeeezed, the muscles in her legs shredding into shadowy relief as she made the blonde pay for her Hug. “Otherwise you’ll look more and more foolish every time I work my way out of WHOOAAAANNNNNNGGGHHHH!”
Braddock rose onto tiptoe, fell forward and released the Bear Hug an instant before she THWHUMPED West into the carpet with a makeshift Spinebuster. The Scissors around her waist loosened but didn’t quite give way, so Kat planted her palms against the carpet and jabbed hard knees into her opponent’s glutes until she was able to wriggle free. Snatching a double handful of hair the instant she was broke West’s grip, Braddock scrambled into a straddle, moved up and leaned forward and down, pressing her hulking curves into the FAWN star’s startled face!
“Feel that, you withered old bytch?” Kat teased amidst rolling her shoulders to exacerbate the stifling grind. “That’s the future coming for your tired tits! Now cry into my rack or I’ll eeeerrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhh!” Emily sank her claws into the blonde’s cheeks, scored ‘em with a quick rake, then finished off with a mean SMACK before repeating the process all over again. The Brat pursed her lips and leaned in a little harder, doing her best to bend grandma’s nose against her sternum. “Slap all you want, mummy tits. Won’t stop me from sitting on your stupid face once I’ve jugged you OOOOOOWWWWWW SHYT!”
Calm as she could be during a face-to-tits introduction with the most domineering new beach fighter on the California scene, West kept right on gouging and clawing at Kat’s buttocks, it made it that much easier for the breathless Queen to slide her legs in beneath Braddock’s stems and then wrench them wide in a Double-Leg Grapevine. It worked as she hoped, forcing the rookie to pull back far enough for Em to twist her head to one side. Unfortunately she was still buried beneath a brawny blonde avalanche and the sound of her gaping inhalation drew the Brat’s attention at once.
“Think you’re clever, huh?” Kat removed one hand from West’s dark hair, curled it into a spade and started digging into one cheek. “Think I won’t make you bleed before I put you back under, slut? You better hope your fake wrestling show takes you back after I’ve clawed your face raAAARRHH F*CK YOU, WHORE!”
The Amazing Academic provided proof of her catty credentials with her hardest wedgie yet, then took advantage of the blonde’s surprise by chomping down on those hateful raking fingers!
Bound and determined to finish the dusty ghost of Penthouses Past here and now, Braddock squirmed free of the Grapevine, pushed up on tiptoe and then drove her body down for a tummy on tummy Splash that THWHAPPED through the lushly appointed venue. West spat out the Brat’s digits with a loud wail, so Kat grabbed her by the wrists and pinned them high overhead. “You’re not even worth my tits!” she sneered at the FAWN star after a follow-up Splash earned a breathy grunt from the veteran. “But maybe, just maybe, if you submit in the next five seconds I’ll let you lick the sweat off after they announce me the winner.” She punctuated that delightfully generous offer with her third miniature Splash in perhaps fifteen seconds.
Beneath her, Emily opened her eyes and huffed, “Really, your Splash technique is atrocious. Even sloppier than Park’s, and you can’t even blame it on simmering nymphomania like she can.”
Not about to take that from some AARP reject she was grinding into the shag, Kat punished her foe’s chest with a quick cup on cup smash, then crouched down and launched herself into a near perfect handstand that ensured some real ‘ooomph’ behind the next-- “UUUUNNNNNNNGGGHHH!” The Brat cried out in breathless surprise when West kicked her legs up and locked them around the younger catfighter’s waist. Landing roughly on her knees, Braddock reached for the brunette’s crushing stems only to snarl her displeasure when Emily seized hold of her wrists. Kat kept her arms close against her chest in a defensive position West appreciated, although not enough to stop her from using it to haul herself to a seat practically in the newcomer’s lap.
Snugging in close enough to make Braddock feel the power of her curves, the Black Queen asked, “What’s wrong, dear? Not used to competition that’s anything less than awed by the contents of your bra?”
Kat snarled, tried to twist her wrists loose, but West’s proximity made it impossible. “You better hope you’re as good as you think you are.” she hissed to the smiling brunette. “Otherwise I’ll shred your nasty titties before I put you to sleNNNNNGGHH!”
Emily interrupted the Brat with a Headbutt to the bridge of the nose that startled everyone not named Chrissy Daniel. Braddock arms went loose on impact, allowing Emily to twist both limbs behind the catfighter’s back in a Double Hammerlock. In the same breath she leaned in close, relinquished her control over Kat’s wrists and cupped her elbows instead.
Hammerlock Bear Hug, Emily West to Kat Braddock.
“UUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Kat tossed her head back and groaned, the curvy powerhouse suffering her first real hurt of the night. “Problem, dear?” West cooed to her wriggling opposition. “Are those untested teats of yours not up for the challenge of real competition?” She squeeeeezed down on the Hug and added a none too subtle grind to Braddock’s growing list of hurts.
“Muuuuhhh…. mine are better and you know it.” Kat snarled. “That’s why you’ve got my arms locked up, you knew you couldn’t hang in a straight OOOOOOFFFFHHHHH!”
Applause and a few appreciative whistles as Emily bore down and the Scissors / Hug combination with enough force to send Braddock tumbling onto her side. Em tumbled along with her, not that the shift in angle seemed to bother her in the slightest. Indeed, she cinched the Hug a little tighter and alternately clenched and relaxed her stems, the former World Champion patiently forcing the air from her opponent’s lungs. “You want to know why I’ve trapped your arms behind your back, Kitty?” West teased. “I did it because you couldn’t stop me. I’d have thought a burgeoning tyrant like you would’ve understood such thinkNGH!”
Braddock shifted her weight and drove a knee into the brunette’s rump, then piled on three more in rapid succession. “Your ass is even more disgusting than your tits, grandma.” she growled. “It’s like cottage cheese on top and a sack of wet mice on bottAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH SHHHHHIIIIIITTT!”
Emily buried her muzzle against the side of Kat’s neck and set her teeth to the vulnerable flesh with a bite that would’ve made Adelaide Brewster proud. Drawing back after perhaps five seconds of the wicked gnawing, West abruptly abandoned the Bear Hug to once again claim the blonde’s wrists. Yanking those weakened arms over Braddock’s head in a single swift move, the Amazing Academic rolled onto her knees and once there transitioned from the Bodyscissors to a retaliatory Double Leg Grapevine. With Kat’s hands pinned to the carpet, Em rose up and came down with a trio of full body Splashes. Hers weren’t so rapid or forceful as her rival’s, but what they lacked in strength they made up for in pacing and angle, Emily timing her descents to drive the most oxygen from the blonde’s lungs.
“And here I thought ‘the Brat’ moniker was supposed to serve as a warning.” West sighed once she’d settled down to make the ingénue carry her weight. “Instead I find it little more than a label, proof that this purportedly ferocious fighter is nothing but a sniveling, snot-nosed, well… brat.”
“Eeeerrrrhhhhh…. you’re gonna pay for this, bytch.” Braddock promised after another attempt to free her wrists came to naught. “You’ll beg to worship my tits before I decide to let you MMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHH!”
Emily slid forward and pressed down, forcing her copious cleavage into the blonde’s startled face! “I fear you won’t have much say in when this contest comes to an end.” the Black Queen murmured to the flushed crescent of Braddock’s forehead. “Though I might give you the tiniest bit of control over the how, if I feel you’ve learned enough to make this little excursion worth the effort.” The Brat’s only answer was a furious hiss, a show of restraint met with silent applause by the FAWN star. Even so, Emily knew she had her blonde in a bad way, so she pinned Braddock’s wrists together and shifted control to one hand. With her right free to do its wicked work, the Insidious Intellectual reached below her own parted stems and treated the younger woman’s crotch to a dismissive swat.
“Give it up.” Em demanded in the wake of Kat’s indignant squeal. “You’re badly outclassed and everyone but you realizes it.” A second slap, this one a little harder than the first. “Submit now and leave the room with some dignity, or resist and wake up in twenty minutes with my sweat still damp on your upper lip.” West swatted her foe’s undercarriage a third time, then emphasized her control with a single strong squeeeeeeeze!” Braddock wailed and rocked her shoulders and hips, the sturdy little ingénue fighting hard to dislodge the domineering veteran. Emily feigned exasperation at the resistance, though in truth she was pleased to see the blonde maintaining even a modicum of composure. “You’re not really going to make me work the trunks, are you?” she did just that, punishing Katrina with a quick hard pinch that earned the loudest yelp yet. “Because I certainly will, if that’s what it takes. And a crowd this well funded will pay top dollar to see an unbeaten wunderkind humbled like an ordinary Hooter’s waitreSSSEEEEENNNNNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Braddock tore her hands from Emily’s grasp with a muffled roar and immediately pak-pak-PAAAKED a flurry of short, savage punches into her ribs. This was followed by a white-knuckle grasp around the older woman’s hips and a death roll so strong they switched places three times before coming to rest with Kat on top. Planting her knees, Braddock slid the Bear Hug up to just south of Emily’s chest and reared back to pull her brunette off the carpet in a sit-up made all the more uncomfortable because of the rookie’s perch on her thighs. “Oh, you’re f*cked now, bitch!” Kat promised as she crushed Em’s curves to her own. “I’m gonna finish the job that gravity started and I’m gonna do it ten years fasOOOOWWW!”
The Courtier’s thumb came out of nowhere to jab Braddock in the eye. “You really think you’ve got the skills to beat me?” West jammed her fingers between Kat’s elbows and her own torso and pushed down hard enough to slip her arms under the youngster’s encircling arms. Reapplying her own Hug with extra interest, Emily didn’t bother to hide a smile as she felt Braddock’s bounty giving way to hers. “You’re an arrogant, untrained child playing a game she barely understands. You should count it a blessing I’ve let you stay in the match this loAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BIDGNNNNNNGGGHHHH!”
Kat didn’t think, she simply twisted her head to one side and lunged forward to chomp down on her attacker’s nose! West shrieked, released her grip at once and went for a double handful of hair only for Braddock to spit out her nose in favor of a vile Headbutt between the eyes. The veteran slopped to her back in a stupor and would’ve stayed there for a good long while if Katrina hadn’t balled her hands into fists and just went to town on the vulnerable cartography of her foe’s tits.
Eyes narrowed to black slots, upper lip peeled back in a hateful snarl, Braddock put the full power of her brawny shoulders into a furious sideswiping lather that had West’s juggs sloshing so hard they threatened to overflow her cups. Lost in the mindless Valkyrie joy of breaking down an opponent’s resistance, the Brat kept at it hammer and tongs for the better part of fifteen seconds, only pausing to paste the brunette’s cheek with a spiteful SMACK when Emily tried to muster a guard. With that threat brusquely dismissed, Braddock filled her hands with the Brainiac’s bounty and went to work like a sculptor working some especially stiff clay.
“Did you really think these pathetic sacks were enough to beat me? HUH? ANSWER ME, HAG!” She released one claw, slapped Emily’s mouth, then pinched her cheeks between thumb and forefinger to inflict a humiliating fish-face all while keeping up her maniacal mauling. “What was that grandma, I can’t hear you!? You’ll have to speak up! What? You want me to pound these nasty tits even flatter? Whatever you say!” Kat abandoned both claws simultaneously, flattened her hands into paddles and returned to the task of rack ruination with a series of gaudy windmilling slaps that had Emily wailing in a matter of seconds.
From her seat safely removed from the action, Chrissy Daniel admired the blonde’s explosive strength even as she fought the urge to caution her against burning so much energy so fast. Of course there was nothing wrong with the occasional display of shock and awe to take control of or even end a fight, but conflicts on the carpet often turned into wars of attrition and she worried the blonde would punch herself out before-- ‘OOOOOOOOHHHHH!’ Groans of sympathy from the small audience as Braddock knotted her hands together in a single fist and THWHUMPED the heavy sledge into Emily’s tits one right after the other.
“Well, shows what the hell I know.” the Imp murmured as Em’s legs kicked into the air. “Kick her ass, kid.”
Kat didn’t hear this, all her attention was focused on the decimation of the old bag pinned beneath her. Catching the brunette’s wrists when West once again tried to protect her aching orbs, Braddock forced them overhead and slammed Emily’s forearms into the carpet no less than half a dozen times. From there she pushed up and eased forward, making sure to drop the full weight of her glutes on opposing tits en route to securing the Schoolgirl Pin. “Well, your tits make for terrible weapons, but they’re a pretty good seat.” Braddock snickered while wriggling her tush against the FAWN star’s smote rack. “Now, do you want to tell all these people that you’re done or do I have to slap the false teeth out of your mouth?”
“You really think this is over, dear brat?” Emily forced herself to respond at once, even though she was understandably sore in the aftermath of the tyro’s furious resurgence. “Look around this room, brat. Does anyone but you seem to think this match is ovEERMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHH!”
Infuriated by the has-been’s refusal to accept reality, Kat slid back and leaned down, all the better to engulf West’s face with her décolletage. Pressing her palms into the sides of Em’s skull to keep her head steady, Kat scraped her nails across the veteran’s scalp and sneered, “Oh no, I think your Polident is starting to fail, grandma!” Braddock giggled as she poured on the jugg. “Or maybe that’s just how you sound when you’ve got a mouthful of titEEERRHHHH BITCH!”
Em twined her fingers in the blonde’s hair and wrenched her head back at such an angle that her adversary was forced to create a little separation. “Good God, did no one EVER teach you proper technique?” the Black Queen gasped. “Free assessment, little girl. You’ve got an impressive set of tits, but they aren’t impressive enough to make up for such sloppy applicSHHUUMMMPPPPPPHHH!”
The Brat sat up, forced West to do the same and forced her into a snug Front Sleeper. Palming her own right elbow with her left hand while the right helped itself to a whole lot of Emily’s hair, Kat rest her cheek against the straining woman’s forehead and grunted, “You’re gonna talk to me about sloppy?” Katrina taunted. “I’m not the one with tits hanging past her kneeEEEERRRHHHH!” Em disrupted Braddock’s rhythm with an especially unpleasant wedgie, but the tenacious young fighter held on until the tugging gave way to weakened scrabbling against her lower back. “That all you got, bitch? Guess my technique isn’t so sloppy after AAHHHH OOOWWWW F*CKING SHIT!”
Braddock’s usual aggressiveness gave way to frantic wriggling as she tried to free her bounty from Em’s gnawing teeth. Halving the control over her opponent’s head, Kat flattened her loose hand into a paddle and smacked the brunette’s noggin half a dozen times, alas bulk of her own curves prevented her from landing any meaningful blows. After several more rounds of ineffective swatting, she abandoned the Front Sleeper entirely and forced the older woman away with an emphatic shove. On her feet in an instant, Braddock pressed a hand to her insulted cleavage and snarled, “You savage old whore, you’re going to wish you’d stuck to your fake, flippy bullshyt!”
West didn’t answer at once, rather she allowed herself a few precious seconds to steady her respiration. Eventually she flipped hair out of her face to train a seriously haughty smirk on the fuming blonde. “The only thing tackier than your threats is your outfit, dear. Tell me, do you come from money? Old money, perhaps? Because from everything I’ve seen from you, it’d take a rich, meddling parent to help you build this sort of undeserved repu--”
Kat came at her like a miniature freight train, the Brat going low for a Spear that would’ve spread Emily across about six feet of carpet if the brunette hadn’t rolled away at the last possible instant. The miss hurt Braddock’s pride more than anything else, though the sting of carpet burn on her knees was less than pleasant. She whirled around and popped to her feet, fully expecting to find the mouthy crone bearing down. Imagine her surprise then when she realized West was over on the far side of their arena setting a freshly drained glass of water on the tray of an immaculately dressed bartender. “Hey.” Braddock snapped. “Fight’s over here, hag.”
“Oh, is that what you call it?” Emily said with a sly little smile. “I thought I’d help myself to a little refreshment since it seemed you were practicing your pratfalls.”
The guests chuckled quietly but to Kat it sounded like a sold out house cheering on some insult comic’s latest zinger. “You think I’m funny, grandma? You think I’m a joke?” the blonde took a menacing step forward. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you a different kind of physical comedy.”
“Why Katrina, that was almost clever!” Emily chided. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you and this evening won’t be a colossal waste of my--”
Kat charged her flat out, both hands open and aimed directly for the brunette’s hair. She got damned close, in fact Braddock would’ve swore her fingers brushed their target so it was all the more infuriating when the Amazing Academic twisted aside, leaving her blonde to slam on the brakes or go headfirst into a local investment banker of some repute.
Smack!
Em tagged her opponent’s glutes with a cupped underhand slap that earned another laugh from those assembled.
“We playing tag now, bytch?” Kat growled when she whirled around and found West safely out of grabbin’ distance. “I’d have thought Old Maid more your speed.”
“Of course we’re not playing tag.” West replied with the same droll smile still on her mouth. “That would imply you had any chance of catching me. And for the record, I would beat your buttery little ass at Old Ma--”
The Brat let loose with a hateful shriek and went straight for her tormentor, Braddock’s fingers aimed at the FAWN star’s eyes. Emily bent her knees like she meant to engage, but instead she shifted to one side, hooked her right arm under the blonde’s left armpit and took her up n’ over with a textbook Hip Toss that dropped Kat to the carpet with a heavy THWHUMP! Pleased by the soft shiver of her attacker’s impact, West purred, “Tell me little girl, how does my fake, flippy bullshyt feel--”
“F*CK YOU!” Braddock rolled onto her belly and sprang to her feet so abruptly Emily backed off to maintain safe distance. No longer in any mood for the wrestler’s games, Katrina raised her hands and stalked after the retreating battler. “Don’t you dare run from me, mummy tits. You make me run, I’ll make you--”
CRAAACK!
The Black Queen darted forward to meet the youngster head on, but instead of a clench she dipped low and tagged Braddock’s exposed tummy with a single hard slap. “Is running really so taxing?” Emily asked now that she’d created some distance between herself and that Brat. “What a sad indictment of your training habits.”
No curse this time, only a roar of rage that Chrissy would’ve enjoyed a lot more if not for the realization that West might as well be paying rent for the space she occupied in Kat’s head. The incensed ingénue’s latest charge was faster than all her previous attempts, yet in the end it came to nothing. Worse than nothing actually, because Emily sank into a crouch and flicked her feet between Braddock’s churning legs. A single flex sent Kat tumbling to the shag in a heavy tits and tummy-first landing. Chrissy sighed when Braddock gasped. It might as well have been a bulls eye painted on her back and sure enough, West dropped down in a heavy seat just above the tyro’s knees.
“Your strategy of perpetual aggression is impressive, I can see how it made you so formidable on the beach in such relatively short order.” Emily curled the thumb and forefinger of her left hand into a long, slightly curved ‘C’ shape and wedged it into the deep crease the separated Kat’s right thigh from her buttock. “Such an approach would pay dividends on the sand, after all, those girls aren’t there for a chess game, they’re fighting for jewelry, pink slips, the keys to a condo or a month long stay in Cozumel and they want to win as quickly as possible.” She mirrored the long claw on her right hand and worked it in beneath the blonde’s left glute. “But where the sand is all about making your opponent look as bad as possible, as quickly as possible, the penthouse is focused on drawing your opponent out and slowly breaking her down until she’s unconscious or begging for mercy.”
“Screw you, bytch.” Braddock barked as she braced her hands against the carpet and tried to slide out from under the brunette. “I’ll never beg you for anyEEERRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!”
The Insidious Intellectual finally bore down on the Hammy Clamp, West using all ten fingers to put some serious hurt on the younger woman’s inner thighs. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that just yet.” West murmured after a well placed prod from her thumbs made the grounded blonde gasp. “Never is such a long time, especially for a willful child who’s never been truly tested. Of course it’s quite possible you could pass out from the pain at any moment. I’ve seen more than one self-proclaimed bad ass just whimper and slump to the carpet with no warning at all.”
Braced on her palms, Katrina pushed up as far as she could go, then shifted all her weight to her left hand so she could reach back with the right. She couldn’t get a hold of the hag’s hair, so she set her sites lower and clamped down on a West’s left wrist. “You like warnings do you, grandma? Here’s one of my own. Get your cheap-ass press on nails away from my legs or I’ll OOOOOOHHHHH OOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!”
Emily squeezed until her knuckles turned white, the pressure of it forcing Braddock to crumple onto her forearms. “You want your legs back, dear?” West asked once another long constriction forced a low moan from the trapped newcomer. “Then free yourself or admit you’re beaten. Because I have no desire to let you go.”
“Dammit crone, I am going to mess you up so BYTCH!”
Emily relinquished the Clamp, flattened her hands into paddles and spanked out a quick little salsa beat on her foe’s defenseless glutes. The impromptu Bittersweet Symphony got a murmur of applause from the guests, one that grew considerably louder when Emily slid forward into a heavy seat on the small of Kat’s back. “Your breathing appears quite labored, dear. Assuming tonight’s experience doesn’t send you scurrying back to the safety of the sand, I’d suggest finding someone to help improve your cardio.”
“Fuuuhhhh…. f*ck you.” Braddock didn’t like the wheeze in her response, but she couldn’t seem to do anything about it. “I don’t need to run a marathon to jugg you shyt, shyt, SHYTNNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
West seized the blonde’s biceps and wrenched them up and back, all the better to drape Kat’s arms over the strong curves of her thighs. With the Brat’s arms thusly neutralized, Em buried one hand in Kat’s hair and cupped the other over her chin. Then she pulled on the former and pushed on the latter, thus crimping the trapped wrestler’s neck at an extremely painful angle. “Perhaps not, but if you plan on facing the sorts of opponents that will make you famous outside your own zip code, you’ll make a more favorable impression if you’re not wheezing like an old lady when you put someone away.”
Katrina growled, smacked her hands against the sides of West’s legs and did a bit of clawing for good measure, not that it earned her much more than another painful jolt from the brunette’s Chinlock. “Yuuuhhh you’re talking to me about wheezing?” she snarled into Emily’s beatifically smiling features. “I’m not the one that has a f*cking AARP card tucked in her pantieSSSSRRRRRGGGGHHHH!”
The Amazing Academic released the Chinlock to cinch that arm across Braddock’s throat. Cupping her opposite bicep for additional leverage, Em transitioned from the hair-pull to a simple palming of the back of the blonde’s head. “You really should learn to watch your mouth when caught in such a vulnerable position.” West’s tone was cool, but a trained ear could sense the anger underneath. “And returning to the subject of conditioning, I do believe a comparison of our respective heart rates would confirm I’m faring much better than yourself. Now tell me, my dear little brat, do you surrender?”
Kat could barely move her head, the Sleeper was that snug, so she burned a little precious oxygen to bark, “No! Now get offa--” the end of her demand was cut off by a heavy ‘THUMP’ as Emily palmed her rival’s noggin and bounced her forehead against the shag. The aftermath left Braddock groaning and sullen on her belly, both brawny arms swaddling her head. She was still stumbling through a thick interior fog when the Insidious Intellectual laid claim to both wrists and got to her feet. Kat’s first instinct was to rise, a notion which cost her when West placed a foot between her shoulders and pressed down, forcing her flat to the carpet once more. Sliding that foot up to the base of her blonde’s neck, Emily jostled Braddock’s wrists and asked the room, “Those tits aren’t nearly so impressive when they’re grinding the floor, are they?”
Beneath her, Katrina bellowed and kicked her feet, both to very little effect. “Oh you’ve had it now, bytch! When I get out of here I’ll fuYAAMMMPPPPPRRRRGGGHHH!”
Em curled her toes in the Brat’s hair, forced her head down and punished her with a little shag scrub even as she tried to wrench her shoulders out of socket. “Is ‘bytch’ as deep as your well of insults run?” the Black Queen chided. “I’d have expected at least a ‘whore’ or a ‘slut’ thrown in for variety’s sake, even from swimsuit SPAM like you.”
“How about cunt?” Braddock rasped when she managed to twist her head to one side. “Does that work for you NNGGGHHH!”
Emily released Kat’s wrists and stamped down, driving her head and chest into the carpet with a quick Curbstomp. Pivoting to one side as Braddock flopped onto her back with arms stretched high overhead, Emily appraised the situation, then extended her left leg out straight and brought a gaudy pro-style Leg Drop SMECKING across the ingénue’s throat. The Brat flopped hard, but didn’t roll onto her belly, so West spun to one knee and got back to her feet. A Leg Drop barrage would’ve done the trick quite nicely, yet the FAWN star was hesitant to borrow from Sydney’s bag of tricks, so instead of repeating herself she sprang into the air, stretched out parallel to the carpet and TWHAPPED down atop the blonde’s hulking hooters! That got a loud round of applause from the jet-setters, even Chrissy, who’d always loved a good rack Splash.
Of course one person who didn’t love it was Kat Braddock, who barely had the energy to roll to one side after the hag tried to crush her. Very much aware of the ‘don’t hurt me’ vibes pouring off her vulnerable opposition, Emily grabbed a handful of hair and tugged the Brat’s head off the carpet. “You’re finished. Submit verbally and you’ll be allowed to leave of your own volition. Refuse and you won’t leave until I’m satisfied.”
Words were a little beyond Braddock’s capabilities at that point, so she raised a hand to answer the brunette with an index finger.
“Of course. How foolish of me to expect a well thought out response.”
Knocking the blonde’s hand aside with a dismissive slap, Emily went back to the double hair hold to peel Kat off the floor. The Brat stumbled into her tormentor for a weary clinch, but Em rebuked her with two cudgeling Forearm Smashes across the chest. With Braddock struggling to keep her balance, West slipped an arm through her legs, looped the other one over her shoulder and promptly scooped the youngster up like she was nothing more than a bag of leaves. In full control of the game now, Emily stomped over to the edge of an unoccupied love seat and promptly Body Slammed Braddock across the nearest arm!
Kat shrieked in breathy anguish and tumbled to the carpet, the formerly proud bombshell a jittery shadow of her former self after the wicked collision. Feeling no particular need to hurry, the Amazing Academic wedged a foot beneath Kat’s ribs and shoveled her onto her back. From there she stepped over, planting a foot beside either hip. The guests muttered in anticipation when West dropped to her knees, though they were respectful enough to keep it down until the former FAWN World Champ dragged her prey to a seat and welcomed her face into the Front Sleeper.
“No whimpering, now.” Em cooed as she strengthened the coil by gripping her bicep and palming the base of Braddock’s skull. “After all, I gave you a chance to surrender.”
Alas, that didn’t stop Kat from wailing the remnants of her air into the velvet furnace of West’s décolletage. And give the Brat credit, exhausted though she was, she scraped and clawed at Emily’s shoulders and flanks, pulled her hair, even managed to raise her waistband by a few inches. Yet in the end it did her no good. She was too tired and West’s seal far too tight. In less than sixty seconds she went from clawing to capitulation, the exhausted blonde swatting Emily’s lower back over and over again.
Emily kept her in the dark for another ten seconds, then loosened the Sleeper just enough to pull Braddock’s face into view. “You have something to share, Ms. Braddock?”
“Huuuuhhhh…. haaaaaaiii…. I give. I give, get the f*ck offa MMMMRRRRPPPPHHHH!”
Emily dragged her right back down and made sure to roll her shoulders, all the better to buff the blonde’s greasy face. “Are you certain? You were so defiant before, I’d hate for their to be any doubt afterward.”
Another ten seconds ticked off the clock before Braddock was allowed to taste air again.
“Goddammit bytch, I said I give.” she whined. “Get offa me!”
“Who’s tits beat you, brat?”
Kat frowned, but found her voice when West grabbed her hair. “Yours! Yours did!”
“I have a name.” the Black Queen said softly. “Emily!” Kat groaned. “Emily’s tits beat me.”
“Class dismissed, Ms. Braddock.” Emily sent the depleted rookie flopping onto her back with a dismissive shove, then stood up and planted a foot on conquered rack. She’d just slipped back into her robe (offered by a waiter who’d seemingly materialized from nowhere) when the ombudsman confirmed the obvious, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by submission… Emily West!”
“Thank you.” Em told the guests after her first sip of champagne. “The matches may be concluded, but there’s still plenty of celebrating left before us, so please, enjoy yourselves! One thing I must insist upon however, no one is to lay a finger on Katrina here. As far as I’m concerned, she’s nothing more than an art installation until she finds the energy to crawl out of this room.”
Edict set, the victorious Queen stepped off her pedestal and set out on a campaign of mingling that would eventually allow her to report some interesting findings to Chrissy Daniel.
Later…
“For f*ck’s sake, West. I asked you to scuff the kid up a little, not break her goddamned spirit!” Chrissy grunted after knocking back another shot of Jameson’s.
Curled up on a sofa on the far side of the now empty penthouse, Emily took a sip from her white wine. “Oh please, when did you get so melodramatic, Chrissy? The girl’s spirit is hardly broken, it’s simply a bit more malleable than previous. And really, if the young Ms. Braddock IS broken, then she’s hardly worth the time and energy you were willing to expend, now was she?”
The Imp frowned, poured herself another drink and nursed it so she wouldn’t have to cede West’s point. “You think she’s worth it? The time and money, I mean. Can she handle it in FAWN?”
“As of tonight, no, she’s not ready, at least not on any sort of regular basis. Oh, her looks, attitude and innate ferocity might carry her to a few low card wins, she MIGHT surprise a Nyssa Bloodwind or a Jaime London if they were having a particularly off night, but any lightweight worth her salt would run through her in ten minutes flat, perhaps less.”
“But the raw material’s there. Girl’s built like a fireplug and she hits hard, I saw that in your face more than once tonight.”
West dipped her head in acknowledgement of Chrissy’s point. “Absolutely. She could be a game changer in the vein of a Wendy Smith or a Lily Burlingame, however the key difference there is that Wendy and Lily both WANTED to be professional wrestlers. They wanted it more than anything. Katrina Braddock, at the moment, seems quite satisfied to jugg out the local gym rats.”
The same thought had crossed Chrissy’s mind. Hearing it come from West didn’t make it any less annoying. “Bottom line. What sort of time commitment am I looking at to make her a viable threat in FAWN?”
“In Orlando? A year, easily. In Bangor or Albuquerque? Half that, perhaps even less, if you went to management and agreed to appear alongside as either a manager or a tag partner. I’m not certain the Brat would react favorably to such an idea, though something tells me any training regiment spearheaded by Chrissy Daniel would involve enough ‘tough love’ to break her of such resistance. And if you did want to bring her to Orlando, I’m sure Giardi, Ellis or Vale could reinforce any lessons you’d imparted.”
“F*ck that, this girl’s my project.” Daniel replied. “If Kat Braddock succeeds it’ll be because I made something of all that raw talent. And if she flames out, it’ll be because I put her down.”
“Fair enough.” Emily conceded. “I’d only caution you against strapping too much of your own legacy to this girl’s admittedly strong back. Portia tried something similar with another willful young woman and… well, Alexis finally did what Shea never could.”
“Don’t you ever worry about Lemarchand doing the same to you? Bytch is skinny, but she’s tough and mean. And smart.”
West refilled her glass before answering. “Of course I do. But order is my legacy, Chrissy. Keeping FAWN from destroying itself back in those days when it seemed every week birthed a new faction looking ‘take over’ the place, that’s what I’ll point to when my career is over. And FAWN is quite stable these days, isn’t it? I certainly couldn’t have stepped away for so long if the board was about to fall apart.”
Something in the brunette’s words piqued Chrissy’s curiosity. “So now for the million dollar question. When are you coming back? ARE you coming back?”
The Black Queen shrugged. “I’ll probably make an appearance in the spring, if something interesting presents itself. But a one off against any of FAWN’s ‘New Era’ holds no appeal. You know me, Imp. I love campaigns. I love the long game. And right now the pieces for such an endeavor simply aren’t there. Shea’s gone. Portia’s ruined. Poor Lisa is doped up to her eyebrows and Kylie--”
“I hate that bytch.” Chrissy growled.
Emily made no move to correct her. “--Kylie sold her soul.” She smiled, rolled her eyes. “Who knows. Olivia Dare could lose her mind tomorrow morning and cause all sorts of problems, THAT’S the kind of cataclysm that I’d relish setting right, but it doesn’t seem likely, does it?”
Chrissy raised her glass. “To chaos.”
Emily did the same and they toasted from opposite sides of the room. Her phone trilled immediately thereafter. West pulled the gadget from a small clutch, punched in a ridiculously complex password and found a text message from Lenore:
Ems,
Got a heads up from Kent.
FAWN’s about to sign DD.
He thinks she’ll debut at March to War.
~L
The brunette’s smile caught Chrissy’s attention. “Got some chaos breaking out?”
“Nothing so dramatic as that I’m afraid.” Emily answered once the phone was safely tucked away. “Just a reminder that I need to introduce myself to one of our newest coworkers. Hardly a cataclysm, but the look on her face should be quite entertaining, nonetheless.”