Post by bigfan on Feb 5, 2018 21:44:47 GMT
CAITY MASON:
Thus far, Vegas had been good to Caity Mason. She’d eaten some great food, flirted with some hot waitstaff, and had a pitside seat for an epic mud wrestling match at the Venetian. All that was left was to deal with Candice Akeley.
The sane half of Caity’s personal gruesome twosome had not only come out of hiding at last, she’d walked right into a trap. Or more accurately was about to ride an elevator into a trap, because the venue for their much delayed catfight was high above the Strip.
FAWN had arranged for her entrance music to be piped into the car and Mason hummed along for the solo journey, lost in happy thoughts of what she could have done to Akeley if they’d only been allowed to settle things there in that cramped space. Too much easily breakable glass, so no deal, had been the ruling from on high.
Spoilsports.
Before long the doors slid open. Caity took a deep breath and walked into the penthouse, and the elevator reversed course to pick up Candice Akeley.
CANDICE AKELEY:
Cali was momentarily quiet, no doubt entranced by the elevator’s panel of buttons lighting in sequence as the car rose to the penthouse. It was destined to be a short reprieve, ending as soon as the ride did, if not a little sooner. Candice didn’t care, she used every bit of the quiet to map out her plan of domination and humiliation.
A catfight in Vegas wasn’t her first choice, she would’ve preferred a room at the Madhouse, something that had a lot of sharp angles and cool, flat surfaces. But a challenge was a challenge and a penthouse was just another arena to conquer.
The elevator glided to a stop and announced their arrival with a soft chime. Akeley took a deep breath and let it out slow, hoping it’d calm Calliope down. “She’s mine, Cali.” the green-haired woman whispered. “Bytch didn’t believe in me, so it’s only fair I get to shred that pert little ass.”
The door swung open, giving Candice a perfectly good reason for ignoring Cali’s murmur of dissent.
Stepping into the warm, mellow glow of the penthouse, Candice Akeley spared only the briefest of glances for the surroundings and special guest referee Libby James. The full weight of her attention fell heavy on Caity Mason, who returned her stare with a wicked smile she would’ve appreciated on just about anyone else.
LIBBY JAMES:
Caity winked at Libby, who was sat cross-legged on top of a rosewood sideboard, picking cubes of ice out of an empty tumbler and crunching them between her molars. Seeing the little exchange, Candice tensed up, sniffing collaboration. The Aussie blonde wrinkled her nose in exasperation and quickly swallowed a few last slivers. The traditional referee's striped shirt was knotted just under her breasts. Her suntanned stomach was flat as a board, barely bunching up even when she leaned forward to admonish Mason for the misbehavior.
“Knock it off, Cait, you arsehole. Candice, she's trying to fuck with you, and if you let her get into your head as easy as all that you deserve to get your face sat on.”
The Frightener didn't look entirely convinced, but she turned her attention back to Caity only to find Mason was suddenly all up in her face, intent on making Akeley feel the weighty press of her boobs.
“She's right, bitch. No special treatment. I got the only the advantage I need the second you agreed to this match.” Caity's hand shot out and found a hold in Candice's hair, round the back and close to the scalp. The Best Coaster was near to purring at how good it felt knowing she could leave it there the rest of the night and not get harassed by a count or threatened with a DQ.
Candice went rack with her first grip, filling her clawing hand with as much of Caity's generous bounty as she could and squeezing. They each took a moment to settle into the pain, listening to the other's breathing change. For Candice the problem was that maintaining eye contact like she wanted made the hair-pulling worse. She shifted her feet in the thick carpet and shot another quick glance at their ref, who was still watching intently from her perch.
“She stays there and we don't have a problem, bytch,” Candice growled.
CRACK!
CRACK!
They exchanged short, tart face slaps. By the time Akeley had blinked away any water Caity's left hand was on the crotch of her panties.
“You think you can draw a red line and have me not step over it, cunt?” Caity shook the Frightener by her hair before RAKING her nails slowly up Candice's belly, leaving her mark on those stretched taut abs before coming to journey's end by clamping a possessive claw grip on Akeley's left tit. “The only red lines in this fight are the ones I'm gonna carve on your doughy gut.”
Candice hissed at Mason's attempt to stake a claim on her flesh. She dropped her right hand to the back of Caity's sheer-paneled panties and pulled up hard on the waistband. Mason was quickly on her toes trying to alleviate the effect of the Wedgie, but Candice stopped once she'd made a thong out of the already revealing panties, switching to a back rake before snatching her own handful of black hair.
Now they were essentially mirroring each other they got down to some serious work, stomping around the penthouse lounge. “Sluts fight with their panties up their asses. You know that, slut,” Candice said. She briefly paused her squeezing to pull Caity's bra cup down, then reattached her grip to the bared, sweat-slick boobmeat.
The Cali Catfighter moaned, then took a deep breath to swallow and accept this new pain. “Haven't I got a great ass, Akeley?” she said, pleased with the even tone she'd found. “Message boards fill up with posts about my tits but you see it, don't you? Does it make you want to crawl back into your hole and let the crazy bytch deal with it?”
While she'd been talking Caity had also been pulling Akeley's breast out of it's silky holster. So now they matched again, stutter-stepping around the carpeted space bounded by the sofa and armchair and coffee table.
“No, bytch, it makes me wish the floors were wood, see if I could break your tailbone when I drop you on them.”
Mason offered her a genuine smile in spite of the other woman’s two-pronged attack. “Oh sweetie, you just wait and see what that carpet burn feels like before you go and ask for hardwood eeerrrrhhhhhh…”
Candice pulled back on her hair-grip to the point that Caity was looking straight up. In the same breath Akeley traced her thumb across Mason’s nipple, an oddly gentle precursor to the vicious pincer grip applied to that sensitive flesh. Though her own locks were still very much in Caity’s possession, Akeley endured the burn to lean in and trace the tip of her nose along the curve of her foe’s neck. “What’s the matter, Caity Kat?” she murmured in Mason’s ear. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Aren’t I everything you imagined?” She licked the lobe of Caity’s ear, took it between her teeth and nipped hard enough to make the catfighter stamp one foot against the floor.
Noting Mason’s body language from her place on the sideboard, Libby slid to the floor and strolled over to her charges. “You ok, Mason? Not thinking about calling it, are you?”
Akeley flicked a glance at the blonde official. “We both know she’s too proud to quit yet, don’t we, little zebra? What you just heard there was the sound of confidence starting to leak AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!”
Caity let loose of Candice’s hair, slid that hand around to the front of her face and jabbed a thumb in the Frightener’s eye! All perfectly legal in the confines of the penthouse, not that it didn’t stop Akeley from cursing up a storm, especially when Mason abandoned the Breast Claw to double down on the Hair-hold. The Best Coaster twisted her hips as soon her hooks were set, the sudden shift throwing Akeley into the low overstuffed couch to drop her to a rough seat. Caity swung with her, dropped down and buried a knee in the freak’s belly, a move she’d used against dozens of women in penthouses up and down the west coast. It proved no less effective this afternoon, as Akeley ‘oooofffffhed’ against her attacker’s belly, the subsequent inhalation all the more satisfying because it was stifled against Mason’s encroaching rack.
Settling into a true straddle after the Kneelift struck home, Mason looped her arms around the back of Candice’s head and drew her deep into the stultifying embrace of her décolletage. Gripping her own elbows for extra power, Caity rolled her shoulders and bit her bottom lip when she felt Akeley’s fugly little nose bend against her sternum. “Oh yes, that’s it, struggle bytch.” Mason ground her crotch against Candice’s fluttering tummy, the Cali Catfighter clearly hearing the cheers of a sold out crowd echoing in the back of her mind.
“Got her nose bent to the breaking point, Lib.” Caity cooed to the ref. “This trash fire’s gonna be out in thirty seconds, if I don’t let go.”
Libby somehow doubted it. She didn’t know much about Candice Akeley’s reputation in the squared circle, but she’d picked up a lot just watching her stroll through the penthouse and her instincts told her the green-haired battler wasn’t an easy out. Still, she’d suckled Caity’s juggs enough to know they could snuff a strong woman in short order, so she hurried around to the back of the couch and tapped Candice’s right shoulder with two fingers. “You done, Akeley? Need me to get her--” Akeley raised her right hand and held her index finger a few inches from Libby’s nose. “That answers that, then.” the blonde muttered with a smirk. “Looks like she’s not ready to go yet, Cait.”
Caity just blew her a kiss and ‘smecked’ her hips against her prey’s belly. “That’s what you think, baby? I can feel the quit pouring off her in waves. It smells like funnel cake and horse shyOOOOWW F*CKER!”
The reaction was so quick and so violent that Libby thought Akeley had to have grabbed a wedgie, but when she looked around behind Mason’s bottoms were right where they should’ve been. Well, not entirely. Turned out the Aussie was right, Candice had snagged a wedgie, only she’d slipped her left hand in between their tummies to collect some waistband from just below Mason’s navel.
Libby *almost* sympathized with her, as she’d endured similar tactics before. Almost was the operative word however, as she’d wrestled Caity enough to know the Best Coaster had no qualms fighting as dirty as the rules allowed. So instead of asking for a surrender, the blonde backed off and said, “Don’t let her get your panties in a twist, Cait. You got this.”
Mason focused on her at once, the Cali Catfighter’s eyes narrowed to black slots. “Damn right I do.” she huffed. “Tramp’s gonna floss with my panties before AAAAAAAAHHHH YOU HATEFUL WHORE!”
Akeley must’ve heard the floss threat because she grabbed the back of her attacker’s briefs and started to tug in time with the Inverted Wedgie. Forced higher and higher by the wicked sawing, Mason ultimately relinquished the Front Sleeper, though she quickly buried both hands in Akeley’s hair. Standing awkwardly on the couch, Caity bounced the Pitiless Pragmatist’s head against the back of the couch, then growled, “You crazy bytch, you’re going to let go right now or I’m going to split your f*cking head wide opWHOOOAAANNNNNNNGGGHHH!” Akeley did as bade, alas only to slip her hands between the Cali Catfighter’s legs. In the next breath she pushed up and over, a sloppy but ultimately effective Back Body Drop that sent Mason tumbling up, over and DOWN onto the heavy pile directly behind the couch.
The counter cost Candice a couple patches of hair, but oxygen was a bargain at twice the price and listening to Caity grunt and groan was only icing. Raking some hair off her forehead as her breathing returned to normal, Akeley clambered up and swung around so she was seated on the back of the couch looking down at Mason. “You really going to call this thing down the middle, Skipper?” she asked Libby.
“I said I would. Mason’s a friend, but I don’t throw away the job interview of a lifetime to help her win a match she can take on her own.”
Akeley nodded, then jabbed a heel into her opponent’s navel. “Good. Because you understand what’ll happen if you cross me?”
Libby nodded again, she was almost smiling. “I do. And it doesn’t concern me a bit, honey.”
Akeley’s answering smile was much more predatory. “It will. In time.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when the Ruthless Realist, pushed herself off the couch and came down with the full weight of her backside THWHUMPING into the pit of Mason’s stomach! Caity’ oooffffhhed’ and sat up, or at least tried to, the effort came to a painful end when Candice drilled a short Back Elbow into her chin. Pushing to her feet while the Best Coaster sprawled on the carpet, Akeley helped herself to Caity’s ankles and quickly draaaaaaaaaaaaagged her out to a more open stretch of carpet. “What was that you were saying about rug burn? It’s so easy to tune out all your whining. Is that how Sharpe’s managed to stay with you so long?”
“Fuuuhhhh… f*ck you, bytch.” Mason groaned. “She stays with me because HHUUURRRGGGHH!”
Candice stomped on her tummy, punctuated it with a nasty little twist of her heel that Libby couldn’t help admire. “Don’t actually care.” Akeley sighed as she circled around to the other brunette’s head. “I just wanted something to mull over when kicking your ass starts to bore me.”
She dropped to a seat, grabbed a double handful of hair and lifted Mason’s head off the carpet. From there she slid her thighs in against the Cali Catfighter’s ears, locked her ankles and started to bounce her heels against Caity’s crotch even as she tried to squeeze Mason’s head clean off her shoulders
Libby went to her knees, always interested in seeing a well applied Headscissors up close. She noted with approval the muscular definition in Candice's pale thigh. It wasn't often you saw that kind of strength brought to bear. As a result of it, Caity's face was already tomato colored, her lippy pout compacted by the punishing limbs.
“Hey Cait, slap the carpet if you're done in there, alright?” the Aussie asked mischievously. She got the same single digit response she'd got earlier from Candice. “See, you two do have something in common. A complete lack of respect for authority.”
Akeley grunted, propped on her elbows, her butt lifting up off the carpet as she poured her energy into those crushing thighs. She'd positioned her hands in front of her chest, ready to intercept any of Mason's attempts to snatch a trailing handful of hair, or claw at her face. But the Best Coaster had other ideas. She went low, seizing Candice's big toe between her fingers and bending it unnaturally away from its fellow digits.
“Bytch!” Akeley pursed her lips against this sudden new pain. There followed one of those brief flurries of violent activity so common on the carpet. First Candice reached down and buried her fingers right back in Caity's hair. Next Caity, finally able to turn her head, did so and immediately sank her teeth into the Pitiless Pragmatist's thigh. To free herself from the bite, Candice stomped her heel into Caity's gut, and the tableau ended with Mason sitting upright and hugging her belly while Candice inspected the salivary dental impression on the inside of her leg.
“Remember Stephanie Raymond, that Parisian whore who used to come over every month on her private jet?” Caity's voice was still a little bit chopped up by the gut shot but she turned her head to Libby James and the Australian referee-for-a-night wrinkled her nose at the reminder of one of her least favorite opponents.
“The French Stench? Shyt, I used to beg management to make her shower. I was never more pleased to get a cold.”
“Yeah, well...” Caity jabbed her thumb over her shoulder in Candice's direction.
“Don't turn your back to me, slut,” snapped the woman impugned, but Caity quite pointedly continued looking away. She was fixing her bra when Akeley came at her from the rear, the Ruthless Realist on her feet and angrily swiping for a fistful of the Cali Catfighter's glossy dark hair. That she swiped air instead was a result of Mason quickly flattening herself to the carpet. She lifted a shoving foot into Candice's butt on the tail end, sending Calliope's other half into a minor collision with the back of the sofa.
“They never think to check the mirrors.” Back on her feet, Caity gave the glass a glance to confirm that yes, she was still cartoonishly hot, before establishing taunting eye contact with Candice.
Libby folded her arms and watched the staredown like she had a bowl of popcorn and some 3D glasses. The tremble seemed to spread through their tensed frames, a furious but sensuous vibration reaching right to the tips of their fingers until….
CRACK!!
CRACK!!
The sizzling exchange of Bytch Slaps worked like a clear the air rainstorm. With one reddened cheek apiece Caity and Candice lunged for each other's hair and tried their best to sling the other against the wall.
“This is it, is it Mason?” Candice grunted. “Insults a five year old would be embarrassed by and twenty minutes spent trying to bald each otheAAAAHHHH BYTCH!”
Wrenched off balance by a particularly ferocious tug, Candice was slammed against the plaster and in a heartbeat Caity was pressed up against her, working to pin her to the wall.
“Pain.” Mason purred the word into Akeley's strained, hate-clenched face. “Pain is what I'm showing you. When I fight in the damn ring and someone threatens to wreck my knee for good if I don't give up, where's the shame in quitting then? But when you quit here it's not to save yourself from an injury. It's because you can't take another second of my fingers in your greasy hair, my palm on your cheek, my tits dominating yours. Pain is gonna make you quit, Akeley. Because you're a fucking pussy.”
For the length of that little mission statement Candice had been struggling to get her backside off the wainscot, which crested at a height that seemed designed specifically to make life uncomfortable. She finally reversed their positions and SLAMMED Caity into the wall by her hair. The follow up knee to the crotch would've had Mason slumping if Akeley's weight didn't hold her up.
“I could end your career in this room as quickly as I could back in Florida. Maybe I will.” Candice shook her head and Mason's talons slipped limply out of the Ruthless Realist's battle damp hair. She backed off far enough to make space to turn Caity round and lifted a jolting knee into the Cali Catfighter's pert butt cheeks. “I told you, bytch,” she snapped. “Sluts fight with their panties up their asses. So you leave them up there until you tell me we're done.”
Mason bit her lip at the Wedgie, but that was pain of the most familiar kind. Stretching her arm out, she caught hold of the heavy, midnight blue curtain, weighted down at its base and right now pulled back to allow for a view of the Strip glittering in the late afternoon light. While Candice focused on trying to saw her in half, Mason stutter-stepped her way along the wall until they were by the corner, then with a magician's flick of the wrist, she pulled the curtain around them, trapping them inside soft velvety darkness.
Libby looked up at a camera and shrugged. The curtain bulged and rippled, yielding up the smothered sound of panting, grunting, the occasional shrill yell.
The curtained campaign lasted for another thirty seconds or so, and no one, not Libby, not the unobtrusive cameramen and certainly not the viewers at home, had the slightest idea of who’d emerge from that curious cocoon with the advantage. The answer came abruptly, with no fanfare whatsoever. One second the drape held both women tight, the next it fell aside to reveal Mason snugged in beside Akeley, the former throttling the latter with a garrote made of her own green hair!
Teeth bared in a merciless smile, the Best Coaster drilled a quick Kneelift into her opponent’s buttocks, then shifted slightly and butted a shoulder into Candice’s upper back. “March, bytch.” Caity demanded as she marched / trudged Candice out into the open. “I want everyone to see the shame on your face when you quit!”
Quick to note the ugly pink flush suffusing the Frightener’s features, Libby cleared her throat and asked, “You need me to call it, Candice? Nod yes if you want out.”
Understandably preoccupied by her constricted windpipe, the Pitiless Pragmatist somehow found the energy to hone in on the Aussie newcomer. “Fuuuuhhk ooffffHHHHEERRRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Behind her, Mason abandoned the stranglehold for a more traditional grip on Candice’s hair, a grip that allowed her to spin the freak into a cringe-inducing hip check against the back of the couch. “Don’t run your mouth at her, f*ckface, she’s just trying to make sure you have a career after this match is over, which is a f*ck ton more than I carNNNGGGHHH!”
Akeley jabbed an elbow deep into the brunette’s belly, the force of the air leaving her lungs enough to puff Candice’s hair for just a moment. Pleased by the yield in Mason’s abs, Akeley gouged her again, then straightened up and “AAAUUUUUGGHHH BYTCH!” Candice rose onto tiptoes as Caity reached between her thighs and bore down with an underhanded claw grip.
“Yeah, that’s right, I’m a bytch.” Mason filled her other hand with Akeley’s hair, all the better to crank her head back. “And don’t you ever forget it, cunt.” The Ruthless Realist didn’t respond, but if the look on her face was any indication the catfighter’s words were already burned into her memory. Working her fingers like she meant to rake straight through her opponent’s briefs, Mason backed the pigeon-toed battler back from the couch only to bum’s rush her into a THWHUMPING tummy on upholstery impact. Akeley ‘OOOFFFFFFHHHED!’ and folded up around the furniture, so Caity slung an arm over her lower back to keep her in place while she shaped her other hand into a slightly scooped paddle.
“Want a swing, Libby?” Mason asked the referee. “This bony ass might not be good for much, but it spanks even better than the French Stench.”
James shook her head ‘no’. In truth she’d love to get her hands on Akeley (and a dozen other women on the FAWN roster) but she was no scavenger. When she got after Candice Akeley it would be just the two of them.
Caity shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Cra-cra-cra-CRAAAACK! The penthouse rang with half a dozen crisp impacts as the Cali Catfighter raised an immediate welt on her rival’s buttocks. Almost satisfied, she snatched a handful of Candice’s bottoms and repaid the wedgie with interest before using it to dump the green-haired over into a drunken seat on the couch. “Time we ended this shyt.” Mason grabbed Akeley’s biceps and pulled her up high enough to drape her arms over the back of the couch. “First I smother you out. Then I take your panties as a trophy. Finally I march your pathetic ass to the freight elevator and watch as the lights descend all the way to the f*cking service entrance.”
“Huuuuhhhh…. huuuuhhh… haven’t beaten me yet, you prissy little MMMMMMMRRRRRRPPPPPHHHHHH!”
Caity cupped Candice’s chin in both hands, bent her neck backward against the top of the couch and leaned down and in, burying the other woman’s protesting face in her considerable bounty. Strategically it wasn’t the ideal Breast Smother, but it was showy and dominant and Mason was clamped down on her prey’s elbows to eliminate the most immediate threat. “Worship me, freak.” Caity cooed as she ground her tits back n’ forth across Akeley’s squalling face. “Give ‘em a little kiss and maybe, just maybe you’ll be conscious when I’m walking you down that hallway.”
The fighter in Libby wanted to stand back and let nature take its course, the referee however (not to mention the woman that sought gainful full-time employment) knew she needed to check on the struggling woman. Sidling in beside Candice, James tapped her fluttering tummy twice and murmured, “You done? Stamp the carpet if you’re--” Akeley flipped her off, thus settling the issue for another few minutes. Libby nodded, patted Candice’s midriff again. “Tuff girl. Better get outta there soon.”
Caity frowned, bore down until the loser whined against her sternum. “Who’s side are you on, James?”
The ref got off the couch, regarding her blandly. “I’m just here to see a great fight, Mason. Now are you going to put this weirdo away or do I need to give you some advice on the Front Sleeper?”
The Best Coaster snorted, jostled her tits against Candice’s sweat-greasy face for emphasis. “Please, the second I need advice from you is the second I NNNNNGGGGGHHHH!”
Candice crunched in on herself, bringing both knees up to THWONK against the crown of Mason’s unsuspecting skull. Caity sagged but maintained the Smother, meaning her head was in the same place when Akeley rattled her brains with another pair of knees. Maintaining her jackknife after that second shot, the Pitiless Pragmatist opened her legs, then ‘smecked’ them shut around Caity’s neck. Braced against the couch for extra leverage, Candice pulled with everything she had and managed to flip the Cali Catfighter up, over and DOWN onto her butt directly in front of the couch.
Caity yowled and rose up at once, one hand braced on the carpet while the other rubbed her aching tailbone. She was in the midst of assessing this new pain when Candice slipped her legs around opposing neck and squeezed like she meant to bring her thighs together. “Go ahead and ask her.” Akeley told Libby a few seconds after she’d pulled the brunette’s arms out at her sides. “She’ll say no, but I want to hear her gurgle through the denial.”
James rolled her eyes, but did as bade. “What do you say, Cait? Need me to get you out of there?”
“Fuuuuuhhhhhh…..fahk no.” Mason growled. “This bytch can’t beat me in VegAAAARRRRRHHHHHH SLUT!”
Candice abandoned her control over the brunette’s wrists to fill her hands with Caity’s hair, which she promptly tried to liberate from her scalp. Painful though it was, Mason ignored the hair pull in favor of draaaaaaaaagging her nails across Akeley’s upper thighs in a bid for freedom. “That all you’ve got?” Candice gritted her teeth through the hurt even as she collected Mason’s hair in a sort of ragged top knot. “No wonder Sharpe likes hanging out with Eve and Calliope. Your fighting’s as bland as your personality.”
Caity stopped clawing just long enough to SLAP the freak’s legs. “F*ck you, asshole.” she spat. “Sharpe’s just got a weakness for charity cases, that’s allEEERRRGGGGGHHHH!”
Continuing her tug of war one handed, Candice reached down with her free hand and twisted Mason’s left nipple like she was looking for a station at the far end of the dial. “That’s where you’re wrong, cupcake.” the green-haired fighter teased. “Sharpe’s got a thing for people who don’t treat HER like a charity case. F*ck, Sammain’s been better for her career than you, and she tried to kick that chick’s teeth down her throat.” Akeley trailed off as she adjusted her grip on the Headscissors, hair-pull and pincer. “By the way, do you remember how long you lasted when Autumn sat on your face? I want to see if I can keep you around a little longer.”
Going back to what had worked before, Caity reached for Candice's big toe, but before she could grab it the Frightener lifted her foot and SLAMMED her heel down on Mason’s flat stomach, using the brunette’s navel as a target.
“AAAGGGHHH BIMMPPPHHHH!” Caity’s complaint was abruptly cut off when Akeley gave up both the nipple twist and hair pull to cover the Cali Catfighter’s airways with her palms. Candice smiled smugly at the feel of those panicked, sucking breaths against her skin.
“Does the job so much better than those f*cking ugly tits, right slut?” Akeley said. From behind the smothering digits Mason could only manage a snort, which Candice took as dissent. She gave up her twin holds to climb off the couch and scoop Caity up from the carpet. With the Best Coaster’s weight in her arms she looked at their referee for the evening and indicated the door to the bedroom. “Wanna prove you’re neutral in this? Do me a favor and pull that open. I’d do it myself but I’ve got my hands full of skank.”
Whatever Akeley’s suspicions, Lib was operating with no bias for either woman and she did as she was bidden, gesturing to the newly revealed space for Candice to explore. “All yours Candy Bar,” the Aussie said sweetly. “Your funeral if you want to fight Mason in there.”
“I asked you to open the door. Who said anything about going inside?” Akeley shuffled her burden slightly and DROVE Caity’s exposed back into the thin edge of the door. While the Cali Catfighter yowled and shouted her hurt for the mics to pick up and broadcast to the other side of the country, Candice did it twice, three times more, until she started to feel the burn in her shoulders from carrying the load. “Now we can go in,” she said, equally sweetly.
There wasn’t much there other than the enormous bed. Grunting a bit, her body slick now with perspiration, Akeley hefted Caity from her chest to her right shoulder. Mason’s disheveled locks swung gently as she hung limp. But her relative peace was shattered when the Pitiless Pragmatist pushed her up and over, so that her already abused back came down hard and fast on the polished cherry footboard.
“Shyt!” Libby couldn’t help herself from exclaiming at the brutal collision. Caity screamed, rolling to her side and reaching for the impact spot, her body curling up and her kicking feet making a mound of the bedding.
Candice slipped her thumbs inside the waistband of her panties and snapped them back into place before dragging Caity across the bed by her underarms so that the Frightener could stare down into her foe’s pain racked face. “I could break your back in a ring. I could break your back in a shytty hotel suite. I could break your back in a padded cell.”
“I’ll bow to your knowledge on that,” Mason gasped. “All the time you spent in theAAGGGHHH.”
The scream was because Akeley had reached down and pinched the Cali Catfighter’s lower lip between finger and thumb. With her other hand, Candice tore Caity’s bra most of the way off, then started to mockingly slap the exposed moneymakers. “Like I said, I could break your back. But you wanted it this way, tits up on the bed with your panties up your ass, so that’s what youUUNNGGGGHHH.”
The mystery of what Caity had been doing with her hands was solved when she clocked Akeley in the side of the head with a pillow. Not one that would have made for a comfortable night’s sleep either, as it was medicine ball hard. Put someone to sleep, maybe. Even delivered from such an awkward position the shot staggered Candice, who clutched the edge of the mattress for support.
Mason rolled to her knees, bra dangling from one shoulder, and swung again, bashing Akeley’s skull. “At least that brain was already broken, you fat ass bytch.” She beat Candice groggy, clambering off the bed to chase the stumbling Frightener round the room. The last THUDDING blow wrapped the pillow around Akeley’s face and swept her head into the plaster. She gave a smothered moan and slid down the wall to the carpet, her eyes letting the camera know there wasn’t anyone home right now.
Caity’s back burned like fire when she bent over to seize Candice’s ankles. Dragging the green haired dead weight across the floor, the Cali Catfighter stopped at the edge of the bed and placed the pillow over Akeley’s face before climbing onto the mattress.
“Hey Cait, you gonna fix your bra?” Libby said.
The thin scrap of fabric had shown admirable persistence and now hung from the crook of Mason’s elbow. But she straightened her arm and gave her shoulders a shimmy and it finally gave up the struggle and slid down her limb onto the bed.
Akeley had escaped Caity’s smother twice. She wouldn’t do it a third time. But first the Best Coaster had some payback in mind. “Don’t know if you saw it, Lib, but this slut thinks it’s funny to drop me on my ass. She won't be laughing when she figures out where I'm landing”
Taking one last glance to measure the distance, Mason bounced twice and leapt off the edge of the bed, her perfect backside aimed squarely at the pillow covering Candice’s face.
Caity Mason wasn’t the most technically adept member of the FAWN roster, indeed she caught more flak than most from those few internet wrestling nerds able to tear their eyes off her trunks long enough to put together a critical thought. Yet even her most fervent detractors couldn’t deny the Best Coaster’s flawless execution as she dove down on Akeley -- elbows just below chest level, legs kicked up and out with those flawless glutes leading the way in a devastating A-Bomb Drop. Such a shame then that Candice rolled clear at the last possible second, leaving the started catfighter to THWHUMP tailbone-first into the deep shag!
The floor shuddered and Libby joined it, the curvaceous blonde not daring to imagine the hurt shooting up n’ down the other woman’s spine in the wake of such an impact. “You ok, Mason?” Libby only dared ask once the brunette scrambled to her knees and got a steadying hand on the edge of the bed.
“Nothing’s broken.” Caity snarled through clenched teeth. “And I’ll be fine once this bytch is kissing it bettEEERRGGGHHHHH YOU DISGUSTING FREAK!”
Having eased up on Mason’s six a heartbeat prior, Candice Akeley put the tips of both index fingers in her mouth, then slid them out and jabbed both digits into her opponent’s ears! “WET WILLY, CAITY KAT!” Calliope cackled like a lunatic as she tormented the incredulous bombshell with the schoolyard staple. “BETCHA DIDN’T SEE THAT COMIN’, DID--”
Caity straightened up with an enraged scream and rounded on the Frightener, Mason swinging for the fences with a jaw-breaking Haymak--“UUUNNNNNGGGGHHH!”
Cali came in low, burying a spiteful counterpunch deep in the Californian’s flat tummy. “Guess you didn’t see that either, huh?” the green-haired battler said to the vulnerable curve of Mason’s back. Deciding she’d finally had enough of this mean-spirited kitty, the Queen of Outré Space grabbed her opponent’s dangling wrists, crossed them into a loose ‘X’ and jerked her into a modified Front Facelock. With Caity’s noggin tucked under her left arm, the Eclectic Eel shifted her grip so she could control Mason’s wrists with a single hand. This allowed her to slip the right between Caity’s thighs to grasp a whole lotta backside. The catfighter groaned and tried to squirm clear, but Calliope turned it into a wedgie and that combined with a strong upward hoist was more than enough to muscle the hapless beauty all the way to high noon. Alas, time passed far too quickly for Mason to formulate a counter, indeed she went from noon to twelve thirty in the blink of an eye when Cali laid out and THWHONKED the crown of her skull into the carpet with ‘Something Wicked’.
SOMETHING WICKED:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=D25gwKZ7b4w
Caity rose to a slouched seat, then stretched out flat, her hands held at up in an instinctive ‘don’t hurt me’ gesture while both legs settled into a slightly compressed ‘V’ Above her, Cali put a hand against the side of Mason’s face and pushed, forcing her to look toward the solitary cameraman. Glancing from the referee to her rival and back again, Calliope asked, “You want to count her down, pretty talking zebra?”
Libby had seen plenty in her years in Sin City, and pissed off, beaten women had called her all kinds of different animal names, but never had she been called a zebra, and never had she seen anything as bewildering as the quick change from Akeley to Calliope. Still, she shook her head ‘no’, like everything was still copasetic. “You know the rules. AHW only ends with a knock out or a submission.”
The Frightener grinned and clapped her hands. “Great! And here I thought you were gonna spoil my fun!” The blonde made no comment, so Cali grabbed a double handful of hair, dragged Caity to a seat and snuggled in behind. A Half Nelson on the brunette’s left arm opened her up for a single quick raaaaaake across the rack and a much slower pincer twist to Mason’s left nipple. Caity whined, reached for her attacker’s wrist, then descended into a choked gurgle when Cali seized her left wrist and drew it snug across her own throat! Leaning back as soon as the Pennywise Clutch was secure, the One Woman Freak Show slipped her legs around the brunette’s waist and treated her ribs to a colossal squeeeeeeeze!
The Best Coaster wheezed, kicked her feet and buried her free hand in her attacker’s hair, the sort of infraction that would’ve drawn an immediate warning from the official if it took place in the confines of the squared circle. Here in Vegas it earned nothing but an impressed murmur from Libby and a low snarl from Calliope. Ankles locked tight, she poured on another constriction and dropped onto her back, thus pulling Caity into her lap. Cali let her think about it for a moment, then popped her hips and rolled forward to THWHUMP Mason’s bum against the pile! The first Keister Bounce was followed by two more in rapid succession, each new THWHUMP drawing louder and louder wails from the crippled catfighter. Not that these vocalizations slowed Calliope’s butt-numbing assault, indeed she actually increased her pace, just thum-thum-thum-thum-THUMPING Caity’s bottom against the carpet until the weary bombshell reached up and swiped at her opponent’s thigh.
“Guuuuhhhh…give.” she rasped. “I giVUUUUNNNNNGH!”
Cali sat her down one more time, the green-haired grappler putting special emphasis on Mason’s surrender with the hardest Keister Bounce yet! Libby saw the fluttering hand and flicked a signal at the camera. Immediately thereafter there was a polite little ‘TING!’ and the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission… Candice Akeley!”
Still holding onto her brunette, the victrix rolled them onto their sides and wriggled against Caity’s back. “Who beat you, loser?” she cooed. “Go ahead and say her name.”
“Fuuuuhhhh…. f*ck you, freaEEEEEEAAAAAAAAH!”
Calliope went back to the nipple pincer, the Queen of Outré Space determined to humble her rival’s haughty rack once and for all. Cupping her left hand over the brunette’s forehead, Cali wrenched her head back at a sharp angle and repeated, “Say her name, kitty. Go ahead, tell everyone who beat you!” she punctuated with another tweak and a taunting kiss to Mason’s defenseless cheek.
“Candice.” Caity croaked. “Candice Akeley’s the shabby bytch that beat EEEEERRRRGGGHHHHH FAAAAAAAAAHHHHK!”
Calliope rolled her onto her belly, pushed to a seat and hooked Mason’s arms over her biceps before securing a double claw grip on those hulking hooters. “Candice is in the passenger seat right now, honey. WHO beat you?”
“CALLIOPE!” Caity wailed as the Frightener narrowed her focus to that gawdawful pincer once again. “CALLIOPE! NOW GET OFFA MMMMPPHHGHHH!”
Cali released the Clutch, shifted her weight and turned Mason onto her back. In the same instant she swung around in a half circle and planted her tush flush atop the Best Coaster’s flushed features. “Now,” Candice Akeley laced her fingers together and made a dramatic show of craaaaaaacking her knuckles. “Calliope might’ve been the one to beat you, but tell me Mason, who owns these tits?”
She lifted up just enough to let the weakened warrior draw a ragged breath.
“You’re dead, bytch.” Caity gulped. “You’re gonna regret the day you ever UUMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHH!”
Akeley sat down and started to grind, a series of taut, sweeping strokes meted out alongside a flurry of derisive swats to her perch’s teats. She kept it up for a good thirty seconds and could’ve gone far beyond that if Caity hadn’t started slapping at her thighs. “Yes?” Candice’s voice was poisoned honey when she lifted off the greasy-faced catfighter.
“Candice Akeley.” Mason sobbed.
“What about her?”
“She… owns my tits.”
Candice treated ’em to a single stiff overhand SMACK as proof of ownership, then sprang to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “Let that be a lesson to the rest of you norms.” she told the camera. “Pick a fight with one of us…” she blinked and Calliope opened her eyes. “…you better be prepared for war with both of us.”
Thus far, Vegas had been good to Caity Mason. She’d eaten some great food, flirted with some hot waitstaff, and had a pitside seat for an epic mud wrestling match at the Venetian. All that was left was to deal with Candice Akeley.
The sane half of Caity’s personal gruesome twosome had not only come out of hiding at last, she’d walked right into a trap. Or more accurately was about to ride an elevator into a trap, because the venue for their much delayed catfight was high above the Strip.
FAWN had arranged for her entrance music to be piped into the car and Mason hummed along for the solo journey, lost in happy thoughts of what she could have done to Akeley if they’d only been allowed to settle things there in that cramped space. Too much easily breakable glass, so no deal, had been the ruling from on high.
Spoilsports.
Before long the doors slid open. Caity took a deep breath and walked into the penthouse, and the elevator reversed course to pick up Candice Akeley.
CANDICE AKELEY:
Cali was momentarily quiet, no doubt entranced by the elevator’s panel of buttons lighting in sequence as the car rose to the penthouse. It was destined to be a short reprieve, ending as soon as the ride did, if not a little sooner. Candice didn’t care, she used every bit of the quiet to map out her plan of domination and humiliation.
A catfight in Vegas wasn’t her first choice, she would’ve preferred a room at the Madhouse, something that had a lot of sharp angles and cool, flat surfaces. But a challenge was a challenge and a penthouse was just another arena to conquer.
The elevator glided to a stop and announced their arrival with a soft chime. Akeley took a deep breath and let it out slow, hoping it’d calm Calliope down. “She’s mine, Cali.” the green-haired woman whispered. “Bytch didn’t believe in me, so it’s only fair I get to shred that pert little ass.”
The door swung open, giving Candice a perfectly good reason for ignoring Cali’s murmur of dissent.
Stepping into the warm, mellow glow of the penthouse, Candice Akeley spared only the briefest of glances for the surroundings and special guest referee Libby James. The full weight of her attention fell heavy on Caity Mason, who returned her stare with a wicked smile she would’ve appreciated on just about anyone else.
LIBBY JAMES:
Caity winked at Libby, who was sat cross-legged on top of a rosewood sideboard, picking cubes of ice out of an empty tumbler and crunching them between her molars. Seeing the little exchange, Candice tensed up, sniffing collaboration. The Aussie blonde wrinkled her nose in exasperation and quickly swallowed a few last slivers. The traditional referee's striped shirt was knotted just under her breasts. Her suntanned stomach was flat as a board, barely bunching up even when she leaned forward to admonish Mason for the misbehavior.
“Knock it off, Cait, you arsehole. Candice, she's trying to fuck with you, and if you let her get into your head as easy as all that you deserve to get your face sat on.”
The Frightener didn't look entirely convinced, but she turned her attention back to Caity only to find Mason was suddenly all up in her face, intent on making Akeley feel the weighty press of her boobs.
“She's right, bitch. No special treatment. I got the only the advantage I need the second you agreed to this match.” Caity's hand shot out and found a hold in Candice's hair, round the back and close to the scalp. The Best Coaster was near to purring at how good it felt knowing she could leave it there the rest of the night and not get harassed by a count or threatened with a DQ.
Candice went rack with her first grip, filling her clawing hand with as much of Caity's generous bounty as she could and squeezing. They each took a moment to settle into the pain, listening to the other's breathing change. For Candice the problem was that maintaining eye contact like she wanted made the hair-pulling worse. She shifted her feet in the thick carpet and shot another quick glance at their ref, who was still watching intently from her perch.
“She stays there and we don't have a problem, bytch,” Candice growled.
CRACK!
CRACK!
They exchanged short, tart face slaps. By the time Akeley had blinked away any water Caity's left hand was on the crotch of her panties.
“You think you can draw a red line and have me not step over it, cunt?” Caity shook the Frightener by her hair before RAKING her nails slowly up Candice's belly, leaving her mark on those stretched taut abs before coming to journey's end by clamping a possessive claw grip on Akeley's left tit. “The only red lines in this fight are the ones I'm gonna carve on your doughy gut.”
Candice hissed at Mason's attempt to stake a claim on her flesh. She dropped her right hand to the back of Caity's sheer-paneled panties and pulled up hard on the waistband. Mason was quickly on her toes trying to alleviate the effect of the Wedgie, but Candice stopped once she'd made a thong out of the already revealing panties, switching to a back rake before snatching her own handful of black hair.
Now they were essentially mirroring each other they got down to some serious work, stomping around the penthouse lounge. “Sluts fight with their panties up their asses. You know that, slut,” Candice said. She briefly paused her squeezing to pull Caity's bra cup down, then reattached her grip to the bared, sweat-slick boobmeat.
The Cali Catfighter moaned, then took a deep breath to swallow and accept this new pain. “Haven't I got a great ass, Akeley?” she said, pleased with the even tone she'd found. “Message boards fill up with posts about my tits but you see it, don't you? Does it make you want to crawl back into your hole and let the crazy bytch deal with it?”
While she'd been talking Caity had also been pulling Akeley's breast out of it's silky holster. So now they matched again, stutter-stepping around the carpeted space bounded by the sofa and armchair and coffee table.
“No, bytch, it makes me wish the floors were wood, see if I could break your tailbone when I drop you on them.”
Mason offered her a genuine smile in spite of the other woman’s two-pronged attack. “Oh sweetie, you just wait and see what that carpet burn feels like before you go and ask for hardwood eeerrrrhhhhhh…”
Candice pulled back on her hair-grip to the point that Caity was looking straight up. In the same breath Akeley traced her thumb across Mason’s nipple, an oddly gentle precursor to the vicious pincer grip applied to that sensitive flesh. Though her own locks were still very much in Caity’s possession, Akeley endured the burn to lean in and trace the tip of her nose along the curve of her foe’s neck. “What’s the matter, Caity Kat?” she murmured in Mason’s ear. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Aren’t I everything you imagined?” She licked the lobe of Caity’s ear, took it between her teeth and nipped hard enough to make the catfighter stamp one foot against the floor.
Noting Mason’s body language from her place on the sideboard, Libby slid to the floor and strolled over to her charges. “You ok, Mason? Not thinking about calling it, are you?”
Akeley flicked a glance at the blonde official. “We both know she’s too proud to quit yet, don’t we, little zebra? What you just heard there was the sound of confidence starting to leak AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!”
Caity let loose of Candice’s hair, slid that hand around to the front of her face and jabbed a thumb in the Frightener’s eye! All perfectly legal in the confines of the penthouse, not that it didn’t stop Akeley from cursing up a storm, especially when Mason abandoned the Breast Claw to double down on the Hair-hold. The Best Coaster twisted her hips as soon her hooks were set, the sudden shift throwing Akeley into the low overstuffed couch to drop her to a rough seat. Caity swung with her, dropped down and buried a knee in the freak’s belly, a move she’d used against dozens of women in penthouses up and down the west coast. It proved no less effective this afternoon, as Akeley ‘oooofffffhed’ against her attacker’s belly, the subsequent inhalation all the more satisfying because it was stifled against Mason’s encroaching rack.
Settling into a true straddle after the Kneelift struck home, Mason looped her arms around the back of Candice’s head and drew her deep into the stultifying embrace of her décolletage. Gripping her own elbows for extra power, Caity rolled her shoulders and bit her bottom lip when she felt Akeley’s fugly little nose bend against her sternum. “Oh yes, that’s it, struggle bytch.” Mason ground her crotch against Candice’s fluttering tummy, the Cali Catfighter clearly hearing the cheers of a sold out crowd echoing in the back of her mind.
“Got her nose bent to the breaking point, Lib.” Caity cooed to the ref. “This trash fire’s gonna be out in thirty seconds, if I don’t let go.”
Libby somehow doubted it. She didn’t know much about Candice Akeley’s reputation in the squared circle, but she’d picked up a lot just watching her stroll through the penthouse and her instincts told her the green-haired battler wasn’t an easy out. Still, she’d suckled Caity’s juggs enough to know they could snuff a strong woman in short order, so she hurried around to the back of the couch and tapped Candice’s right shoulder with two fingers. “You done, Akeley? Need me to get her--” Akeley raised her right hand and held her index finger a few inches from Libby’s nose. “That answers that, then.” the blonde muttered with a smirk. “Looks like she’s not ready to go yet, Cait.”
Caity just blew her a kiss and ‘smecked’ her hips against her prey’s belly. “That’s what you think, baby? I can feel the quit pouring off her in waves. It smells like funnel cake and horse shyOOOOWW F*CKER!”
The reaction was so quick and so violent that Libby thought Akeley had to have grabbed a wedgie, but when she looked around behind Mason’s bottoms were right where they should’ve been. Well, not entirely. Turned out the Aussie was right, Candice had snagged a wedgie, only she’d slipped her left hand in between their tummies to collect some waistband from just below Mason’s navel.
Libby *almost* sympathized with her, as she’d endured similar tactics before. Almost was the operative word however, as she’d wrestled Caity enough to know the Best Coaster had no qualms fighting as dirty as the rules allowed. So instead of asking for a surrender, the blonde backed off and said, “Don’t let her get your panties in a twist, Cait. You got this.”
Mason focused on her at once, the Cali Catfighter’s eyes narrowed to black slots. “Damn right I do.” she huffed. “Tramp’s gonna floss with my panties before AAAAAAAAHHHH YOU HATEFUL WHORE!”
Akeley must’ve heard the floss threat because she grabbed the back of her attacker’s briefs and started to tug in time with the Inverted Wedgie. Forced higher and higher by the wicked sawing, Mason ultimately relinquished the Front Sleeper, though she quickly buried both hands in Akeley’s hair. Standing awkwardly on the couch, Caity bounced the Pitiless Pragmatist’s head against the back of the couch, then growled, “You crazy bytch, you’re going to let go right now or I’m going to split your f*cking head wide opWHOOOAAANNNNNNNGGGHHH!” Akeley did as bade, alas only to slip her hands between the Cali Catfighter’s legs. In the next breath she pushed up and over, a sloppy but ultimately effective Back Body Drop that sent Mason tumbling up, over and DOWN onto the heavy pile directly behind the couch.
The counter cost Candice a couple patches of hair, but oxygen was a bargain at twice the price and listening to Caity grunt and groan was only icing. Raking some hair off her forehead as her breathing returned to normal, Akeley clambered up and swung around so she was seated on the back of the couch looking down at Mason. “You really going to call this thing down the middle, Skipper?” she asked Libby.
“I said I would. Mason’s a friend, but I don’t throw away the job interview of a lifetime to help her win a match she can take on her own.”
Akeley nodded, then jabbed a heel into her opponent’s navel. “Good. Because you understand what’ll happen if you cross me?”
Libby nodded again, she was almost smiling. “I do. And it doesn’t concern me a bit, honey.”
Akeley’s answering smile was much more predatory. “It will. In time.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when the Ruthless Realist, pushed herself off the couch and came down with the full weight of her backside THWHUMPING into the pit of Mason’s stomach! Caity’ oooffffhhed’ and sat up, or at least tried to, the effort came to a painful end when Candice drilled a short Back Elbow into her chin. Pushing to her feet while the Best Coaster sprawled on the carpet, Akeley helped herself to Caity’s ankles and quickly draaaaaaaaaaaaagged her out to a more open stretch of carpet. “What was that you were saying about rug burn? It’s so easy to tune out all your whining. Is that how Sharpe’s managed to stay with you so long?”
“Fuuuhhhh… f*ck you, bytch.” Mason groaned. “She stays with me because HHUUURRRGGGHH!”
Candice stomped on her tummy, punctuated it with a nasty little twist of her heel that Libby couldn’t help admire. “Don’t actually care.” Akeley sighed as she circled around to the other brunette’s head. “I just wanted something to mull over when kicking your ass starts to bore me.”
She dropped to a seat, grabbed a double handful of hair and lifted Mason’s head off the carpet. From there she slid her thighs in against the Cali Catfighter’s ears, locked her ankles and started to bounce her heels against Caity’s crotch even as she tried to squeeze Mason’s head clean off her shoulders
Libby went to her knees, always interested in seeing a well applied Headscissors up close. She noted with approval the muscular definition in Candice's pale thigh. It wasn't often you saw that kind of strength brought to bear. As a result of it, Caity's face was already tomato colored, her lippy pout compacted by the punishing limbs.
“Hey Cait, slap the carpet if you're done in there, alright?” the Aussie asked mischievously. She got the same single digit response she'd got earlier from Candice. “See, you two do have something in common. A complete lack of respect for authority.”
Akeley grunted, propped on her elbows, her butt lifting up off the carpet as she poured her energy into those crushing thighs. She'd positioned her hands in front of her chest, ready to intercept any of Mason's attempts to snatch a trailing handful of hair, or claw at her face. But the Best Coaster had other ideas. She went low, seizing Candice's big toe between her fingers and bending it unnaturally away from its fellow digits.
“Bytch!” Akeley pursed her lips against this sudden new pain. There followed one of those brief flurries of violent activity so common on the carpet. First Candice reached down and buried her fingers right back in Caity's hair. Next Caity, finally able to turn her head, did so and immediately sank her teeth into the Pitiless Pragmatist's thigh. To free herself from the bite, Candice stomped her heel into Caity's gut, and the tableau ended with Mason sitting upright and hugging her belly while Candice inspected the salivary dental impression on the inside of her leg.
“Remember Stephanie Raymond, that Parisian whore who used to come over every month on her private jet?” Caity's voice was still a little bit chopped up by the gut shot but she turned her head to Libby James and the Australian referee-for-a-night wrinkled her nose at the reminder of one of her least favorite opponents.
“The French Stench? Shyt, I used to beg management to make her shower. I was never more pleased to get a cold.”
“Yeah, well...” Caity jabbed her thumb over her shoulder in Candice's direction.
“Don't turn your back to me, slut,” snapped the woman impugned, but Caity quite pointedly continued looking away. She was fixing her bra when Akeley came at her from the rear, the Ruthless Realist on her feet and angrily swiping for a fistful of the Cali Catfighter's glossy dark hair. That she swiped air instead was a result of Mason quickly flattening herself to the carpet. She lifted a shoving foot into Candice's butt on the tail end, sending Calliope's other half into a minor collision with the back of the sofa.
“They never think to check the mirrors.” Back on her feet, Caity gave the glass a glance to confirm that yes, she was still cartoonishly hot, before establishing taunting eye contact with Candice.
Libby folded her arms and watched the staredown like she had a bowl of popcorn and some 3D glasses. The tremble seemed to spread through their tensed frames, a furious but sensuous vibration reaching right to the tips of their fingers until….
CRACK!!
CRACK!!
The sizzling exchange of Bytch Slaps worked like a clear the air rainstorm. With one reddened cheek apiece Caity and Candice lunged for each other's hair and tried their best to sling the other against the wall.
“This is it, is it Mason?” Candice grunted. “Insults a five year old would be embarrassed by and twenty minutes spent trying to bald each otheAAAAHHHH BYTCH!”
Wrenched off balance by a particularly ferocious tug, Candice was slammed against the plaster and in a heartbeat Caity was pressed up against her, working to pin her to the wall.
“Pain.” Mason purred the word into Akeley's strained, hate-clenched face. “Pain is what I'm showing you. When I fight in the damn ring and someone threatens to wreck my knee for good if I don't give up, where's the shame in quitting then? But when you quit here it's not to save yourself from an injury. It's because you can't take another second of my fingers in your greasy hair, my palm on your cheek, my tits dominating yours. Pain is gonna make you quit, Akeley. Because you're a fucking pussy.”
For the length of that little mission statement Candice had been struggling to get her backside off the wainscot, which crested at a height that seemed designed specifically to make life uncomfortable. She finally reversed their positions and SLAMMED Caity into the wall by her hair. The follow up knee to the crotch would've had Mason slumping if Akeley's weight didn't hold her up.
“I could end your career in this room as quickly as I could back in Florida. Maybe I will.” Candice shook her head and Mason's talons slipped limply out of the Ruthless Realist's battle damp hair. She backed off far enough to make space to turn Caity round and lifted a jolting knee into the Cali Catfighter's pert butt cheeks. “I told you, bytch,” she snapped. “Sluts fight with their panties up their asses. So you leave them up there until you tell me we're done.”
Mason bit her lip at the Wedgie, but that was pain of the most familiar kind. Stretching her arm out, she caught hold of the heavy, midnight blue curtain, weighted down at its base and right now pulled back to allow for a view of the Strip glittering in the late afternoon light. While Candice focused on trying to saw her in half, Mason stutter-stepped her way along the wall until they were by the corner, then with a magician's flick of the wrist, she pulled the curtain around them, trapping them inside soft velvety darkness.
Libby looked up at a camera and shrugged. The curtain bulged and rippled, yielding up the smothered sound of panting, grunting, the occasional shrill yell.
The curtained campaign lasted for another thirty seconds or so, and no one, not Libby, not the unobtrusive cameramen and certainly not the viewers at home, had the slightest idea of who’d emerge from that curious cocoon with the advantage. The answer came abruptly, with no fanfare whatsoever. One second the drape held both women tight, the next it fell aside to reveal Mason snugged in beside Akeley, the former throttling the latter with a garrote made of her own green hair!
Teeth bared in a merciless smile, the Best Coaster drilled a quick Kneelift into her opponent’s buttocks, then shifted slightly and butted a shoulder into Candice’s upper back. “March, bytch.” Caity demanded as she marched / trudged Candice out into the open. “I want everyone to see the shame on your face when you quit!”
Quick to note the ugly pink flush suffusing the Frightener’s features, Libby cleared her throat and asked, “You need me to call it, Candice? Nod yes if you want out.”
Understandably preoccupied by her constricted windpipe, the Pitiless Pragmatist somehow found the energy to hone in on the Aussie newcomer. “Fuuuuhhk ooffffHHHHEERRRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Behind her, Mason abandoned the stranglehold for a more traditional grip on Candice’s hair, a grip that allowed her to spin the freak into a cringe-inducing hip check against the back of the couch. “Don’t run your mouth at her, f*ckface, she’s just trying to make sure you have a career after this match is over, which is a f*ck ton more than I carNNNGGGHHH!”
Akeley jabbed an elbow deep into the brunette’s belly, the force of the air leaving her lungs enough to puff Candice’s hair for just a moment. Pleased by the yield in Mason’s abs, Akeley gouged her again, then straightened up and “AAAUUUUUGGHHH BYTCH!” Candice rose onto tiptoes as Caity reached between her thighs and bore down with an underhanded claw grip.
“Yeah, that’s right, I’m a bytch.” Mason filled her other hand with Akeley’s hair, all the better to crank her head back. “And don’t you ever forget it, cunt.” The Ruthless Realist didn’t respond, but if the look on her face was any indication the catfighter’s words were already burned into her memory. Working her fingers like she meant to rake straight through her opponent’s briefs, Mason backed the pigeon-toed battler back from the couch only to bum’s rush her into a THWHUMPING tummy on upholstery impact. Akeley ‘OOOFFFFFFHHHED!’ and folded up around the furniture, so Caity slung an arm over her lower back to keep her in place while she shaped her other hand into a slightly scooped paddle.
“Want a swing, Libby?” Mason asked the referee. “This bony ass might not be good for much, but it spanks even better than the French Stench.”
James shook her head ‘no’. In truth she’d love to get her hands on Akeley (and a dozen other women on the FAWN roster) but she was no scavenger. When she got after Candice Akeley it would be just the two of them.
Caity shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Cra-cra-cra-CRAAAACK! The penthouse rang with half a dozen crisp impacts as the Cali Catfighter raised an immediate welt on her rival’s buttocks. Almost satisfied, she snatched a handful of Candice’s bottoms and repaid the wedgie with interest before using it to dump the green-haired over into a drunken seat on the couch. “Time we ended this shyt.” Mason grabbed Akeley’s biceps and pulled her up high enough to drape her arms over the back of the couch. “First I smother you out. Then I take your panties as a trophy. Finally I march your pathetic ass to the freight elevator and watch as the lights descend all the way to the f*cking service entrance.”
“Huuuuhhhh…. huuuuhhh… haven’t beaten me yet, you prissy little MMMMMMMRRRRRRPPPPPHHHHHH!”
Caity cupped Candice’s chin in both hands, bent her neck backward against the top of the couch and leaned down and in, burying the other woman’s protesting face in her considerable bounty. Strategically it wasn’t the ideal Breast Smother, but it was showy and dominant and Mason was clamped down on her prey’s elbows to eliminate the most immediate threat. “Worship me, freak.” Caity cooed as she ground her tits back n’ forth across Akeley’s squalling face. “Give ‘em a little kiss and maybe, just maybe you’ll be conscious when I’m walking you down that hallway.”
The fighter in Libby wanted to stand back and let nature take its course, the referee however (not to mention the woman that sought gainful full-time employment) knew she needed to check on the struggling woman. Sidling in beside Candice, James tapped her fluttering tummy twice and murmured, “You done? Stamp the carpet if you’re--” Akeley flipped her off, thus settling the issue for another few minutes. Libby nodded, patted Candice’s midriff again. “Tuff girl. Better get outta there soon.”
Caity frowned, bore down until the loser whined against her sternum. “Who’s side are you on, James?”
The ref got off the couch, regarding her blandly. “I’m just here to see a great fight, Mason. Now are you going to put this weirdo away or do I need to give you some advice on the Front Sleeper?”
The Best Coaster snorted, jostled her tits against Candice’s sweat-greasy face for emphasis. “Please, the second I need advice from you is the second I NNNNNGGGGGHHHH!”
Candice crunched in on herself, bringing both knees up to THWONK against the crown of Mason’s unsuspecting skull. Caity sagged but maintained the Smother, meaning her head was in the same place when Akeley rattled her brains with another pair of knees. Maintaining her jackknife after that second shot, the Pitiless Pragmatist opened her legs, then ‘smecked’ them shut around Caity’s neck. Braced against the couch for extra leverage, Candice pulled with everything she had and managed to flip the Cali Catfighter up, over and DOWN onto her butt directly in front of the couch.
Caity yowled and rose up at once, one hand braced on the carpet while the other rubbed her aching tailbone. She was in the midst of assessing this new pain when Candice slipped her legs around opposing neck and squeezed like she meant to bring her thighs together. “Go ahead and ask her.” Akeley told Libby a few seconds after she’d pulled the brunette’s arms out at her sides. “She’ll say no, but I want to hear her gurgle through the denial.”
James rolled her eyes, but did as bade. “What do you say, Cait? Need me to get you out of there?”
“Fuuuuuhhhhhh…..fahk no.” Mason growled. “This bytch can’t beat me in VegAAAARRRRRHHHHHH SLUT!”
Candice abandoned her control over the brunette’s wrists to fill her hands with Caity’s hair, which she promptly tried to liberate from her scalp. Painful though it was, Mason ignored the hair pull in favor of draaaaaaaaagging her nails across Akeley’s upper thighs in a bid for freedom. “That all you’ve got?” Candice gritted her teeth through the hurt even as she collected Mason’s hair in a sort of ragged top knot. “No wonder Sharpe likes hanging out with Eve and Calliope. Your fighting’s as bland as your personality.”
Caity stopped clawing just long enough to SLAP the freak’s legs. “F*ck you, asshole.” she spat. “Sharpe’s just got a weakness for charity cases, that’s allEEERRRGGGGGHHHH!”
Continuing her tug of war one handed, Candice reached down with her free hand and twisted Mason’s left nipple like she was looking for a station at the far end of the dial. “That’s where you’re wrong, cupcake.” the green-haired fighter teased. “Sharpe’s got a thing for people who don’t treat HER like a charity case. F*ck, Sammain’s been better for her career than you, and she tried to kick that chick’s teeth down her throat.” Akeley trailed off as she adjusted her grip on the Headscissors, hair-pull and pincer. “By the way, do you remember how long you lasted when Autumn sat on your face? I want to see if I can keep you around a little longer.”
Going back to what had worked before, Caity reached for Candice's big toe, but before she could grab it the Frightener lifted her foot and SLAMMED her heel down on Mason’s flat stomach, using the brunette’s navel as a target.
“AAAGGGHHH BIMMPPPHHHH!” Caity’s complaint was abruptly cut off when Akeley gave up both the nipple twist and hair pull to cover the Cali Catfighter’s airways with her palms. Candice smiled smugly at the feel of those panicked, sucking breaths against her skin.
“Does the job so much better than those f*cking ugly tits, right slut?” Akeley said. From behind the smothering digits Mason could only manage a snort, which Candice took as dissent. She gave up her twin holds to climb off the couch and scoop Caity up from the carpet. With the Best Coaster’s weight in her arms she looked at their referee for the evening and indicated the door to the bedroom. “Wanna prove you’re neutral in this? Do me a favor and pull that open. I’d do it myself but I’ve got my hands full of skank.”
Whatever Akeley’s suspicions, Lib was operating with no bias for either woman and she did as she was bidden, gesturing to the newly revealed space for Candice to explore. “All yours Candy Bar,” the Aussie said sweetly. “Your funeral if you want to fight Mason in there.”
“I asked you to open the door. Who said anything about going inside?” Akeley shuffled her burden slightly and DROVE Caity’s exposed back into the thin edge of the door. While the Cali Catfighter yowled and shouted her hurt for the mics to pick up and broadcast to the other side of the country, Candice did it twice, three times more, until she started to feel the burn in her shoulders from carrying the load. “Now we can go in,” she said, equally sweetly.
There wasn’t much there other than the enormous bed. Grunting a bit, her body slick now with perspiration, Akeley hefted Caity from her chest to her right shoulder. Mason’s disheveled locks swung gently as she hung limp. But her relative peace was shattered when the Pitiless Pragmatist pushed her up and over, so that her already abused back came down hard and fast on the polished cherry footboard.
“Shyt!” Libby couldn’t help herself from exclaiming at the brutal collision. Caity screamed, rolling to her side and reaching for the impact spot, her body curling up and her kicking feet making a mound of the bedding.
Candice slipped her thumbs inside the waistband of her panties and snapped them back into place before dragging Caity across the bed by her underarms so that the Frightener could stare down into her foe’s pain racked face. “I could break your back in a ring. I could break your back in a shytty hotel suite. I could break your back in a padded cell.”
“I’ll bow to your knowledge on that,” Mason gasped. “All the time you spent in theAAGGGHHH.”
The scream was because Akeley had reached down and pinched the Cali Catfighter’s lower lip between finger and thumb. With her other hand, Candice tore Caity’s bra most of the way off, then started to mockingly slap the exposed moneymakers. “Like I said, I could break your back. But you wanted it this way, tits up on the bed with your panties up your ass, so that’s what youUUNNGGGGHHH.”
The mystery of what Caity had been doing with her hands was solved when she clocked Akeley in the side of the head with a pillow. Not one that would have made for a comfortable night’s sleep either, as it was medicine ball hard. Put someone to sleep, maybe. Even delivered from such an awkward position the shot staggered Candice, who clutched the edge of the mattress for support.
Mason rolled to her knees, bra dangling from one shoulder, and swung again, bashing Akeley’s skull. “At least that brain was already broken, you fat ass bytch.” She beat Candice groggy, clambering off the bed to chase the stumbling Frightener round the room. The last THUDDING blow wrapped the pillow around Akeley’s face and swept her head into the plaster. She gave a smothered moan and slid down the wall to the carpet, her eyes letting the camera know there wasn’t anyone home right now.
Caity’s back burned like fire when she bent over to seize Candice’s ankles. Dragging the green haired dead weight across the floor, the Cali Catfighter stopped at the edge of the bed and placed the pillow over Akeley’s face before climbing onto the mattress.
“Hey Cait, you gonna fix your bra?” Libby said.
The thin scrap of fabric had shown admirable persistence and now hung from the crook of Mason’s elbow. But she straightened her arm and gave her shoulders a shimmy and it finally gave up the struggle and slid down her limb onto the bed.
Akeley had escaped Caity’s smother twice. She wouldn’t do it a third time. But first the Best Coaster had some payback in mind. “Don’t know if you saw it, Lib, but this slut thinks it’s funny to drop me on my ass. She won't be laughing when she figures out where I'm landing”
Taking one last glance to measure the distance, Mason bounced twice and leapt off the edge of the bed, her perfect backside aimed squarely at the pillow covering Candice’s face.
Caity Mason wasn’t the most technically adept member of the FAWN roster, indeed she caught more flak than most from those few internet wrestling nerds able to tear their eyes off her trunks long enough to put together a critical thought. Yet even her most fervent detractors couldn’t deny the Best Coaster’s flawless execution as she dove down on Akeley -- elbows just below chest level, legs kicked up and out with those flawless glutes leading the way in a devastating A-Bomb Drop. Such a shame then that Candice rolled clear at the last possible second, leaving the started catfighter to THWHUMP tailbone-first into the deep shag!
The floor shuddered and Libby joined it, the curvaceous blonde not daring to imagine the hurt shooting up n’ down the other woman’s spine in the wake of such an impact. “You ok, Mason?” Libby only dared ask once the brunette scrambled to her knees and got a steadying hand on the edge of the bed.
“Nothing’s broken.” Caity snarled through clenched teeth. “And I’ll be fine once this bytch is kissing it bettEEERRGGGHHHHH YOU DISGUSTING FREAK!”
Having eased up on Mason’s six a heartbeat prior, Candice Akeley put the tips of both index fingers in her mouth, then slid them out and jabbed both digits into her opponent’s ears! “WET WILLY, CAITY KAT!” Calliope cackled like a lunatic as she tormented the incredulous bombshell with the schoolyard staple. “BETCHA DIDN’T SEE THAT COMIN’, DID--”
Caity straightened up with an enraged scream and rounded on the Frightener, Mason swinging for the fences with a jaw-breaking Haymak--“UUUNNNNNGGGGHHH!”
Cali came in low, burying a spiteful counterpunch deep in the Californian’s flat tummy. “Guess you didn’t see that either, huh?” the green-haired battler said to the vulnerable curve of Mason’s back. Deciding she’d finally had enough of this mean-spirited kitty, the Queen of Outré Space grabbed her opponent’s dangling wrists, crossed them into a loose ‘X’ and jerked her into a modified Front Facelock. With Caity’s noggin tucked under her left arm, the Eclectic Eel shifted her grip so she could control Mason’s wrists with a single hand. This allowed her to slip the right between Caity’s thighs to grasp a whole lotta backside. The catfighter groaned and tried to squirm clear, but Calliope turned it into a wedgie and that combined with a strong upward hoist was more than enough to muscle the hapless beauty all the way to high noon. Alas, time passed far too quickly for Mason to formulate a counter, indeed she went from noon to twelve thirty in the blink of an eye when Cali laid out and THWHONKED the crown of her skull into the carpet with ‘Something Wicked’.
SOMETHING WICKED:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=D25gwKZ7b4w
Caity rose to a slouched seat, then stretched out flat, her hands held at up in an instinctive ‘don’t hurt me’ gesture while both legs settled into a slightly compressed ‘V’ Above her, Cali put a hand against the side of Mason’s face and pushed, forcing her to look toward the solitary cameraman. Glancing from the referee to her rival and back again, Calliope asked, “You want to count her down, pretty talking zebra?”
Libby had seen plenty in her years in Sin City, and pissed off, beaten women had called her all kinds of different animal names, but never had she been called a zebra, and never had she seen anything as bewildering as the quick change from Akeley to Calliope. Still, she shook her head ‘no’, like everything was still copasetic. “You know the rules. AHW only ends with a knock out or a submission.”
The Frightener grinned and clapped her hands. “Great! And here I thought you were gonna spoil my fun!” The blonde made no comment, so Cali grabbed a double handful of hair, dragged Caity to a seat and snuggled in behind. A Half Nelson on the brunette’s left arm opened her up for a single quick raaaaaake across the rack and a much slower pincer twist to Mason’s left nipple. Caity whined, reached for her attacker’s wrist, then descended into a choked gurgle when Cali seized her left wrist and drew it snug across her own throat! Leaning back as soon as the Pennywise Clutch was secure, the One Woman Freak Show slipped her legs around the brunette’s waist and treated her ribs to a colossal squeeeeeeeze!
The Best Coaster wheezed, kicked her feet and buried her free hand in her attacker’s hair, the sort of infraction that would’ve drawn an immediate warning from the official if it took place in the confines of the squared circle. Here in Vegas it earned nothing but an impressed murmur from Libby and a low snarl from Calliope. Ankles locked tight, she poured on another constriction and dropped onto her back, thus pulling Caity into her lap. Cali let her think about it for a moment, then popped her hips and rolled forward to THWHUMP Mason’s bum against the pile! The first Keister Bounce was followed by two more in rapid succession, each new THWHUMP drawing louder and louder wails from the crippled catfighter. Not that these vocalizations slowed Calliope’s butt-numbing assault, indeed she actually increased her pace, just thum-thum-thum-thum-THUMPING Caity’s bottom against the carpet until the weary bombshell reached up and swiped at her opponent’s thigh.
“Guuuuhhhh…give.” she rasped. “I giVUUUUNNNNNGH!”
Cali sat her down one more time, the green-haired grappler putting special emphasis on Mason’s surrender with the hardest Keister Bounce yet! Libby saw the fluttering hand and flicked a signal at the camera. Immediately thereafter there was a polite little ‘TING!’ and the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission… Candice Akeley!”
Still holding onto her brunette, the victrix rolled them onto their sides and wriggled against Caity’s back. “Who beat you, loser?” she cooed. “Go ahead and say her name.”
“Fuuuuhhhh…. f*ck you, freaEEEEEEAAAAAAAAH!”
Calliope went back to the nipple pincer, the Queen of Outré Space determined to humble her rival’s haughty rack once and for all. Cupping her left hand over the brunette’s forehead, Cali wrenched her head back at a sharp angle and repeated, “Say her name, kitty. Go ahead, tell everyone who beat you!” she punctuated with another tweak and a taunting kiss to Mason’s defenseless cheek.
“Candice.” Caity croaked. “Candice Akeley’s the shabby bytch that beat EEEEERRRRGGGHHHHH FAAAAAAAAAHHHHK!”
Calliope rolled her onto her belly, pushed to a seat and hooked Mason’s arms over her biceps before securing a double claw grip on those hulking hooters. “Candice is in the passenger seat right now, honey. WHO beat you?”
“CALLIOPE!” Caity wailed as the Frightener narrowed her focus to that gawdawful pincer once again. “CALLIOPE! NOW GET OFFA MMMMPPHHGHHH!”
Cali released the Clutch, shifted her weight and turned Mason onto her back. In the same instant she swung around in a half circle and planted her tush flush atop the Best Coaster’s flushed features. “Now,” Candice Akeley laced her fingers together and made a dramatic show of craaaaaaacking her knuckles. “Calliope might’ve been the one to beat you, but tell me Mason, who owns these tits?”
She lifted up just enough to let the weakened warrior draw a ragged breath.
“You’re dead, bytch.” Caity gulped. “You’re gonna regret the day you ever UUMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHH!”
Akeley sat down and started to grind, a series of taut, sweeping strokes meted out alongside a flurry of derisive swats to her perch’s teats. She kept it up for a good thirty seconds and could’ve gone far beyond that if Caity hadn’t started slapping at her thighs. “Yes?” Candice’s voice was poisoned honey when she lifted off the greasy-faced catfighter.
“Candice Akeley.” Mason sobbed.
“What about her?”
“She… owns my tits.”
Candice treated ’em to a single stiff overhand SMACK as proof of ownership, then sprang to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “Let that be a lesson to the rest of you norms.” she told the camera. “Pick a fight with one of us…” she blinked and Calliope opened her eyes. “…you better be prepared for war with both of us.”