Post by alyadmirer on May 15, 2018 2:10:38 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen, our next match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Winter Park, Florida… She stands five feet eight inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-four pounds, ladies and gentlemen, would you please welcome... ALLLLLLIIISSSOOONNN ADDDIIISSSOOONNN!!!!!”
PIPER SEXTON:
ALLISON ADDISON:
”THE NEIGHBOR”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJ-J0JsqBCQ
The speakers pumped out a heavy industrial beat, but one with a decided twinge of pop as Porcelain and the Tramps’ “The Neighbor” played over the sound system, and that’s the FAWNatics’ cue to get to their feet and jeer to their hearts’ content. Contrary to the ring announcer’s introduction, however, it’s Piper Sexton and Allison Addison who push through the curtains at the top of the entrance ramp. While normally this would be reason for the fans to double their displeasure, the crowd was silent save for a confused murmur rippling through the stands, because Allison was wearing a neck brace and sitting in a wheelchair pushed along by her Phi Theta Tappa sister.
Even so, the pale-skinned redhead wore her battle gear, a teal “one piece" that struggled to meet that designation. The bust area was surprisingly well-covered, denying even a hint of cleavage but perfectly accentuating her assets. The spandex bared her shoulders, but ran up to her neck, forming something of a collar. The garment similarly stretched downward in an arrow, exposing plenty of skin on her left and right flanks, before fanning out toward her hips to hug her hindquarters. Meanwhile, Piper was still wearing her clothes from earlier in the evening, a pair tight-fitting sweatpants and a hoodie emblazoned with the Phi Theta Tappa logo that was also featured on Allison’s rear end.
The sisters of Central Florida’s most despised sorority appeared gloomy and dour as they made their way to the ring, Allison going so far as to occasionally sniffle and scrub at the corners of her eyes. When a kind-hearted fan reached out and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, however, Addison showed her true colors.
“BACK OFF, INCEL!” she furiously screeched at the young man while violently recoiling and turning her head ninety degrees to the side. “YOUR DICK AIN’T TALL ENOUGH FOR THIS RIDE!”
Just like that, her ruse was exposed and the FAWNatics resumed their normal programming by showering the pair of young women with jeers. Not that it bothered Allison in the least as she immediately went back to playing up her fake-injury, which of course only incited the fans’ anger even more. After wheeling the redhead to the ring steps, Piper held the ropes open as Allison stepped through, determined to keep the charade up until the very last moment. Addison feebly gestured for Craig Long to bring her a microphone, and the referee did an admirable job maintaining his professionalism by holding in his sigh of dismay as he handed her the stick.
“I know many of you hypocritical cuck-lords were cheering when that DESPICABLE Honey Harris assaulted me…” the Mean Girl said in her best old-lady voice. “...and now you’re crying your delicious libtard snowflake tears now that she got what she deserved…”
Allison’s statement was predictably met with rage and scorn, though the microphone allowed her to scream over them, “KARMA’S A REAL MOTHERFUCKER, AIN’T IT?! THAT BASIC BITCH GOT HER ASS KICKED ‘CAUSE GOD HATES UGGOS!”
“You tell’em, Allie!” Piper shouted, the only person in the entire building willing to support the redhead.
“AND WHERE IS SHE NOW?! WHERE IS SHE NOW?!” Addison screamed. “I’M OUT HERE WITH A BROKEN FREAKIN’ NECK, AND SHE’S IN THE INFIRMARY GETTING A CLEVELAND STEAMER FROM VANNACUTT ALL BECAUSE OF A TEENSY, WEENSY BOO-BOO THAT SHE --”
Suddenly, the production team killed the signal from Allison’s microphone, and in its place came the opening notes of Michelle Branch’s “Best You Ever”.
”BEST YOU EVER”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lN_Lxfeed9A
HONEY HARRIS:
As the first chords of Michelle Branch’s “Best You Ever” began to pulse over the sound system, Honey grabbed the edges of the curtain on both sides and steps through, out onto the stage. For a moment, a VERY fleeting moment, the FAWNatics erupted in welcome for the company’s newest British import. But when the crowd caught sight of both the pained grimace on Honey’s face, and more importantly the expanse of athletic tape wrapped around her midsection, elation transformed into concern.
Even so, the young blonde pumped her right fist to the crowd, opening her mouth to shout, “C’MON, Luuuuhhhhhhh…”
Wincing, Harris’ left arm momentarily moved to embrace her aching ribs.
“C’mon, lets go!!!!” she managed to finish her sentiment, albeit in a softer, more restrained manner than usual.
Honey made her way toward the ring at a slower than usual pace, and similarly, while a number of fans still extended hands to meet the blonde, a greater number hesitated, some cautioning the youngster to turn around and head back to the trainer’s room. But regardless of her own physical distress, the British beauty accepted each offered hand with her own. The FAWN rookie’s well-shaped legs were left bared, gold bikini style bottoms (with black trim) left fully exposed in the absence of her customary gold tee, along with her gold bikini top trimmed in black.
Keeping her left arm wrapped protectively to her tummy, the valiant British beauty gingerly climbed her way up the stairs. Slipping through the ropes, and with a purpose belying the anguish she no doubt had to be experiencing, Honey marched with purpose toward the seemingly incredulous redhead. Tilting Allison’s stick toward her lips, Harris rasped four words…
“I’m… Right… HERE!”
Showing a bit of the temper that she usually kept locked away, Honey punctuated her words by suddenly grabbing Allison’s foam neck brace and tearing it away. Addison predictably reacted with indignant rage, and she blistered the blonde’s cheeks with a slap to the face. Honey immediately fired back with a Forearm Smash to the jawline that staggered the redhead, and when the Mean Girl tried to respond with another slap, Harris blocked with her left arm while continuing to hammer away with her right.
Unprepared for the fierce, withering barrage from someone who looked like she should be in the infirmary rather than in the ring, Allison was driven backwards into a corner to great approval from the fans. Piper screamed for the referee to take action, calling for Honey be ejected from the arena and then hanged at dawn for assaulting an “injured” wrestler, but Craig was deaf to her demands. The man simply gestured for the timekeeper to officially start the match, then made a tepid suggestion to Harris that she should perhaps consider not mauling her opponent in the ropes.
Ever the babyface, Honey didn’t wait for the official to start his count before she sent Allison running towards the diagonally opposite corner with an Irish Whip. Addison turned her back at the last moment to blunt the impact against the turnbuckles, but unfortunately for the Mean Girl, that left her in perfect position for her opponent’s follow-up attack. Harris pushed her aches and pains out of mind and sprinted across the ring as fast as her legs could carry her, then she leapt into the air and came crashing down on Addison with an Avalanche Splash straight out of Pandora’s playbook.
She didn’t have the sheer brawn of the Beach Colossus, so Honey decided to make up for quality with quantity. With Allison still frazzled and dazzled from the opening blitz, Honey sprinted back to the corner and then came barreling back with a repeat Avalanche Splash that left Addison nearly out on her feet as she stumbled out of the corner.
CORNER SPLASHES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9r4OtPpoK4
Allison drunkenly lunged for the blonde wrestler, perhaps looking to slow things down by tying her up in a collar-and-elbow lockup, but Harris deftly ducked under the redhead’s arms and launched herself into the ropes with a Front Handspring. Her boots rebounded off the uppermost steel cable halfway through the flip, putting her back onto her feet with greatly increased momentum, then in a single smooth motion, Honey threw herself backwards and slammed an elbow into Allison’s face just as the Mean Girl turned around.
HANDSPRING BACK ELBOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Su6c8tcY-2o
The Handspring Back Elbow absolutely leveled Addison, leaving her splayed out on her back and staring at the ceiling through glassy eyes. Honey knew she could not afford to fight a war of attrition after suffering a brutal pre-match mugging, so she immediately pounced on her opponent with a simple Crossbody pin. Craig dropped down to count out…
ONE!
TWO!
...before Piper reached into the ring, grabbed Harris by a boot, and dragged her out onto the floor. As soon as she found solid footing, Honey spun around to face the interloper with her fists raised, but Sexton was one step ahead of her.
“AAIIIIIIEEEE! MY EYES!” Piper shrieked as she flopped to the ground with her hands covering her face. “I’M BLIND! BLIIIIIIIIINNNNND!”
The sudden melodrama took the wind out of Honey’s sails as she just stood there flabbergasted, unsure of what exact was happening. A few seconds later, Long was at the standing at the edge of the ring, demanding to know what had transpired out on the floor while he had been delivering the count.
“SHE THREW ACID IN MY FACE!” Sexton wailed, a blatant lie that nonetheless left Harris horrified and stammering as she tried to defend herself while Craig sighed wearily.
“Honey, did you throw acid in her face?” Long deadpanned.
“No! No no no no no! I would never --”
“LOOK OUT! SHE’S GOT A GUN!” Piper screamed, leveling another accusation against the British wrestler and pivoting from one ridiculous falsehood to the next with presidential grace.
“WHAT?!”
“Honey, do you have a gun?” Craig groaned, this time unable to resist the urge to roll his eyes.
“N-No! Of… Of course not!” Honey stuttered. “I’m -- I’m from England…! We don’t --”
“CHECK HER GEAR!” Piper demanded. “YOU NEVER CHECKED HER GEAR!”
The referee was certain that pigs would fly before Honey Harris brought any kind of hidden weapon to the ring, let alone a firearm, but the Phi Theta Tappa sister was technically correct in that he had never performed that particular formality. Long beckoned Honey back into the ring and gave a quick glance over her waistband, pads, and boots, predictably coming up empty in his search for any guns or vials of acid. He turned towards Piper to inform her of such, and to his great surprise, Sexton was back on her feet and absentmindedly browsing on her phone, seemingly right as rain and without a care in the world.
“She… uhh… she doesn’t have any guns…”
“Well, duh…” Sexton snorted without looking up from her screen. “She’s from England, they haven’t invented guns yet. What kind of retard doesn’t know that?”
Craig’s eyes narrowed in irritation, then he sternly warned, “That’s enough, Piper. No more shenani --”
“UNNNNNnnnnngggghhh…” came a groan from behind followed immediately by a cascade of jeers from every corner of the building.
Long spun around towards the direction of the initial noise, and he saw Honey laying in the fetal position with both hands clasped between her thighs and Allison standing over her.
Craig raised a scolding finger toward the smirking redhead, opening his mouth to speak… but yet, saying nothing. Despite the reputation the officiating crew had with the FAWNatics, Long wasn’t stupid. He knew, just as well as any of the people who had actually SEEN Allison strike Honey, exactly what the Sadistic Sorority Sister had done… but he wasn’t among their number, and he could only officiate what he himself had personally witnessed.
And what he witnessed at the moment was Allison Addison stuffing short kick after short kick into the gauze wrapped across the British blonde’s back, each strike prompting a howl of anguish from Harris. But while those blows were certainly heartless and ethically questionable, they WERE legal. The best assistance he could offer Honey was simply ordering Allison to take the fight back where it belonged: in the ring.
“Yeah yeah,” Allison sighed, snatching up a handful of blonde locks and tugging Honey toward verticality. “Why am I not surprised you’ve never heard of foreplay?”
With Craig left stammering to find an answer to that particular charge, Addison took her foe’s wrist. But instead of guiding her opponent back toward the ring, the Mean Girl sent Harris charging away with a whip, the blonde’s legs carrying her at high speed toward the steel ring steps…
Reflex took over. Years of training and muscle memory compelled the British beauty to swivel her hips, turning her belly and chest away from the collision and presenting her back to meet the brutal impact. Neither option was ever ideal, but under normal circumstances, the back was better suited to taking such a jolt. Alas, circumstances tonight were FAR from normal. “Normal circumstances” would not normally encompass these two miscreants attacking her backstage and doing a vicious number on her back.
Honey’s spine struck the metal with enough force to dislodge the steps from their station, sending them skidding about a foot away from their moorings, and to instantly transform the Brit’s shapely gams to Jell-O, Harris sinking to her knees with a soul-churning wail. Even as painful as that impact had appeared, Honey’s cry seemed out of scale with it, demonstrating just how much damage had already been done to her back, even before the bell had ever rung.
“THAT’S ENOUGH, ALLISON!” referee Craig Long snapped. “Get it back in the ring. NOW!”
“We’re going, we’re going!” Allison snapped back, scraping Honey off the floor and muscling her up onto the apron. “Keep it in your pants!”
Sending the blonde rolling back into the ring with a shove, Allison climbed onto the apron herself and slipped through the ropes. While Long followed her, the Mean Girl stalked her prey, Honey having made it up as far as all fours and gingerly crawling toward the center of the ring. Lining up her shot, the lithe redhead took a step forward, planting her left foot and swinging her right upward from underneath the crawling Brit. Again, Allison’s boot met gauze, resulting in a somewhat more muted impact than one would normally expect when the kick connected juuuuuust underneath Honey’s bust…
… but again, that diminished audible impact was more than offset by the oversized moan that passed through Honey’s lips, the blonde’s eyes visibly welling with tears as she flopped over to her back—which resulted in another, though somewhat softer, whimper. Unable to tolerate even the touch of the canvas against her bandaged back, Harris forced herself to roll over—and in so doing, played directly into her rival’s hands. Moving to the Brit’s feet, Allison stuffed the blonde’s left boot against the pit of her right knee, then folding that leg in half to trap it there—and keeping the lock secured by her the back of her own calf pressing against Harris’ shin. Then, dropping to one knee, Addison reached back, claiming a handful of Honey’s locks before pushing back to her feet—pulling the British’s upper body up with her. Lifted almost all the way back to her knees, Honey managed to mewl out something that sounded suspiciously like “Fudgecicles” before the combination of the searing pain from her scalp and the screaming agony from the strain placed on her already traumatized spine rendered any other sound that came from Harris’ mouth unintelligible gibberish…
Unmoved by her opponent’s suffering, Allison held her in this position for a couple of seconds before planting a sole between Honey’s shoulderblades. And the Mean Girl held THAT position for a couple of seconds more, before finally administering something of a mule kick that send the Sweet Sensation plummeting to a savage, face first impact with the mat.
DEATHLOCK HAIRPULL CURBSTOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xztWGrQ5Dmk
Standing over the fallen with her back to the writhing Brit, Allison flexed her fingers, sending a few strands of flaxen locks that had not made the trip back to the canvas with Honey to finally fall away from her grip as well. Grabbing another helping of hair, the redhead led her crawling opponent over to the ropes, then turned Harris and forced her down to her backside, the blonde’s arms spilling over the middle rope. Sinking into a crouch, Addison grabbed the bottom rope and pulled it up, lifting the rubber coated steel above its sister in the middle position, finally allowing the cable to drop—and when it did, it fell across each of Honey’s biceps, binding the blonde’s arms. With a nudge from each boot, the Sadistic Sorority Sister forced Harris’ stems open into a wide ‘V’, Allison then stepping back and drawing back her right foot, seemingly ready to go back to her favorite well by sending a kick to Honey’s kitty…
… only instead, Allison shook her head and swiveled away from her bound adversary. “Naaaaaahhh!” the redhead sneered, slipping a finger into each of the leg holes on her so-called “one-piece” and guiding the garment upward, treating the FAWNatics to something of a self-administered wedgie. And as much as the crowd might despise her, their greater allegiance to bared flesh won out, her gesture met with a roar of approval from the capacity crowd. And even as she spun away from the beloved Brit and THRUST her hips backward, giving Honey’s features an enthusiastic buffeting, a number of the more blackhearted FAWNatics continued to give a lustful voice to their approval, even as a faction of jeers grew louder. With her arms bound, there was precious little Honey could do to counter, her open legs flailing as she attempted to twist her head from underneath Allison’s ass, frantically searching for an airway.
Eventually, the referee’s count forced Addison to relent, a wide-eyed and open-mouthed Honey letting out a loud gasp as the redhead stepped away. Reaching behind her, the Mean Girl’s fingers caressed her own glutes as she smiled and observed, “Bytch tears really ARE the best moisturizer.”
Before Craig could step in and free Honey, Allison spun back toward her adversary, bending down to gather and pull up on the Brit’s ankles. The British blonde found herself elevated until her back was parallel to the canvas, Harris’ weight supported between the vengeful Mean Girl and the ring rope vice constricting her arms. Separating Honey’s stems , the redhead launched a kick upward between them, no change of heart in store on this occasion. And though, to be fair, Allison’s boot meets a fair amount of the Brit’s tush, it also connects with something that rhymes, Harris letting out an agonized squeak as Addison released her ankles.
This time, before Allison could take any further liberties, Craig Long stepped between the two women and marched the Mean Girl back toward mid-ring. “She’s still in the ropes, Allison,” the ref scolded her. “You’ve GOT to let her OUT of them!”
But while Addison offered her rebuttal, out on the floor, Piper Sexton stealthily made her way to the still-bound Briton. And from behind, the American blonde reached in with both hands, around Honey’s noggin, and savagely DUUUUUUUG her talons into the eyes of the Sweet Sensation. Once more, the helpless Brit’s legs were sent into a desperate spasm of kicks, her arms straining against their constraints with no success. Immediately, the FAWNatics vociferously implored the official to turn around, but in a savage irony, their shouted demands combined with Allison’s continued protests to help drown out Honey’s own shrieks of torment.
With her sadistic sorority sister buying her time, Piper seized Honey’s right leg by the ankle, pulling the captured limb as far up and back as she could before tucking it behind Harris’ entangled right arm. Sexton repeated the same process with the other leg, and now with her ankles tied behind her ears and the sinews in her hamstrings and groin threatening to tear apart at any moment, Honey’s anguished wails finally reached a sufficient volume and pitch to gain Craig’s attention.
“PIPER!” the referee furiously snapped, though the dastardly perpetrator only responded by doing her best Skylar Mitchell imitation, folding her hands behind her back and whistling innocently as she gazed at the ceiling and rocked back and forth on her heels.
Before Long could eject Piper from ringside, however, Allison dashed past the official from behind. A psychotic, malicious smile stretched across her face as she closed in on her trapped opponent, and then a heartbeat later she fired an absolutely savage punt to Honey’s vulnerable undercarriage. With Addison’s forward momentum adding to the force of the blow, the impact lifted Harris a couple of inches off the mat, and that finally dislodged her from her bindings in the steel cables.
Honey fell into a heap and laid on her side with both hands clasped between her thighs, the persistent aching throb in her ribs and spine now replaced by a more urgent burn in her legs and crotch. Not wanting her fans to see her tortured expression, Honey rolled over onto her stomach, then she pressed her forehead against the canvas and began to cry.
Her parents had vehemently opposed the notion of Honey taking her talents to FAWN. This, they had warned, was the domain of the perverse and the lawless. A place where the good and the kind have their spirits tortured until they either swallowed by the sands of time as haunted husks of themselves, or they became just as embittered and cruel as their tormentors. Her father had reminded Honey of how she had been inconsolable for weeks after Kylie Sanders’ turn towards darkness, the Pleasant Valley Pariah forever serving as a solemn testament that even the most noble soul could be twisted and blackened. Meanwhile, Honey’s mother had been on the verge of tears when she spoke of the horrific ignominy that her baby girl might suffer at the hands of the federation’s most tawdry predators.
They had argued passionately -- and fruitlessly -- that she was too good for this sinful place, and now Honey was starting to realize that perhaps her parents were right. She was a superior wrestler to Allison Addison, of this much Harris was sure, and yet that didn’t seem to matter a jot when all of the Mean Girl’s underhanded tactics were met with tacit approval from the higher-ups. Honey had filed three -- THREE!!! -- formal complaints with Bethany Christian after her first match with Allison, and all Bethany had done was suggest that Harris take matter into her own hands and fight fire with fire.
None of it was fair.
None of it was even presenting the illusion of being fair.
The referee counted “SIX!” and with her body already in no condition to fight further, Honey stifled a soft, heartbroken sob as she contemplated staying down for a second humiliating loss to the sadistic redhead.
“Give the count in British!” Allison suddenly demanded, a request so bizarre that Craig nearly had a seizure from his confusion.
“Errrrrrrrrr… what...” Long said flatly.
“You heard her!” Piper chimed in from the floor. “We want this asshole counted down in her native language!”
“But… but… I am --”
“Ugh, look… I get that your mother probably drank a lot when she was pregnant, but try to keep up here…” Addison sighed as if she were explaining something to a small child. “You were counting in English. English is the language of America, and she’s NOT from America --”
“Just like Obama!” Sexton interjected.
“-- so English is NOT her mother tongue. So for her sake, give the count in BRITISH. I want her tiny, backwards brain to UNDERSTAND that she doesn’t belong here!”
“Sho shomting like dish...” Piper offered in a poor imitation of Sean Connery’s very dishtinctive way of shpeaking.
“No, Pipes,” Allison said with a shake of her head. “You’re speaking like a wife-beater, not a British person. You have to think like them! How would you speak if you spent your whole life eating mad cows while you failed at wrestling, soccer, dental care --”
“That is QUITE enough!” Honey roared, and a moment later, the crowd roared too, because the Sweet Sensation was back on her feet, hunched over at the waist and swaying unsteadily, but upright nonetheless.
It was one thing for Harris to suffer another personal defeat, but to hear the sisters of Phi Theta Tappa disparage her proud heritage was beyond the pale. Battered ribs and pulled hamstrings be damned, Honey would fight to the last and take her place among her idols, unbowed, unbent, and unbroken.
She staggered forward, and perhaps due to Allison’s surprise, Honey was able to rock the sorority sister with a Forearm Shiver to the collarbones, followed by another, then another, then another. Unfortunately for fans of sugar and spice and everything nice, the rally was short-lived. Harris’ myriad of ailments enervated her strikes, rendering her continued defiance symbolic rather than anything substantial. A rapid poke to the eyes curtailed Honey’s momentum, earning Addison a rebuke from the referee and another hearty round of boos from the FAWNatics, then the Mean Girl bent Harris over backwards and trapped her head under one arm in a standing Dragon Sleeper.
Back in control, Allison immediately went back to her favorite tactic of punishing Honey’s undercarriage. The Mean Girl reached down to grab a handful of elastic waistband with her free hand, then yanked those golden briefs into a hateful Front Wedgie that left Harris squealing into her armpit. Even so, the blonde wrestler continued to wave off the official every time he came to check for a submission, and after about ten seconds, Allison had grown impatient.
A particular vicious jerk on her trunks lifted Honey completely off the mat, her boots pointed nearly towards the ceiling, and then Allison laid out to drive the back of her head into the deck with a nasty Reverse DDT.
REVERSE DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWwI1yIMO9E
No preening or theatrics this time as the redhead immediately pivoted into a crossbody pin, and she pumped her fist in time with Craig counting…
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NNOOOO!
...before Harris somehow found the strength to rollover onto her stomach, breaking the pin and sending Addison spilling to the mat a couple of feet away. Allison’s hands shot to her hair, tugging at her fiery red locks in disbelief and looking like she’d seen a ghost while the audience gave voice to their jubilation with a thunderous peal of cheers. Despite it all -- the backstage ambush, the cheap shots, the double-teaming -- Honey was forcing herself up to hands and knees even after taking one of her opponent’s usual finishing maneuvers.
“You can’t break me, Allison Addison…” she muttered, more for her own benefit than anything else. “...you WON’T break me…”
The vicious redhead gave her head a bemused shake. “Are you REALLY that stupid an uggo virgin to get it? I already have broken you. Maybe the time difference means that message hasn’t reached your brain yet…”
Helping herself to Honey’s mane, Addison tugged the sweat-drenched, nearly flaccid blonde up as far as her knee, then traded her single-handed grip on the Briton’s locks for a hold on each of her wrists. The Mean Girl then began to pull back on Honey’s arms, until the Sweet Sensation’s spine began to arch, forcing her chest forward, the strain on her savaged back forcing her eyes to begin to water once more…
… and when Allison foot SLAMMED up between her thighs, those fresh tears began to POUR down Harris’ cheeks, a torrential downpour only intensifying as kick after kick after kick after kick ‘THWACK!’s in rapid-fire fashion against the blonde import’s defenseless flower. And through it all, Honey suffered in… well, not silence. She moaned. She whimpered. She sobbed. But what she did NOT do was beg, or plead, or above all, surrender.
FAWN could be, and often was, an EXCEEDINGLY lax environment when it came to rule enforcement—a clawhold applied to the crotch WAS a legal finishing maneuver around these parts, after all. But that was a singular, sustained hold. The torture it applied was a steady, constant build. This repeated underhanded—underfooted?—barrage, meanwhile, saw one blow intensify the one before it, in a way that Craig Long, at least, simply could not abide. He began his count, reaching “FOUR!” before Addison tossed her rival’s arms away, practically sneering in disgust as the doused British spitfire melted into a puddle of boneless flesh.
Circling her prey, the lithe redhead pulled Honey up to a seated position, stepping between the blonde’s parted stems as she faced her foe. With a handful of hair, Addison guided the Brit’s head between her thighs, then clamped on a TIGHT standing headscissors. Even if Harris’ body had still possessed the strength to, from her tush she did not have nearly the leverage necessary to try to counter the Sadistic Sorority Sister’s headscissors into a backdrop…
… which became MOST unfortunate for Harris when Allison’s fingers slipped inside the legs of her trunks, the redhead suddenly and VICIOUSLY yanking upward, Honey squealing as more and more of her togs disappeared between her cheeks thanks to Addison’s Risin’ Dirty.
“You, Honey Harris,” the redhead sighed, sounding almost disinterested, “you are, simply put, my BYTCH!” Even as she spoke, Addison continued to yank upward on the garment, Honey’s boots skidding across the mat as she tried frantically to find enough traction and leverage to do ANYTHING to alleviate the strain on her undercarriage. “All your ‘skill’, all your ‘training’… it doesn’t go for jack sh!t here! Want the ultimate proof that your cottage cheese ass doesn’t belong here? You may be my bytch, but you can’t even SAY that word, can you???”
Tightening her grip, the Mean Girl added a cruel sawing motion to her pulling. “Go on,” she demanded. “Say it. Say, ‘I’m Allison Addison’s bytch, and I give up!’ That’s the ONLY thing that YOU can do to get out of this…”
Whatever sounds emerged from Honey’s lips, they likely weren’t intended to be what Allison had ordered. But whatever their actual intended meaning might be could hardly be discerned by any observer.
True to her word, the end of the Sweet Sensations torment came not through any action of hers, but simply from Allison Addison giving in to boredom. Releasing the standing headscissors, the redhead slipped around behind her chew toy, slipping her hands underneath Honey’s arms to pull the blonde up onto leaden legs. Absorbing much of Harris’ weight against her own body, the Mean Girl reached around, digging her fingers into the yielding flesh of the Brit’s bosom. Allison then glanced briefly over her shoulder, and determining that her positioning was to her liking, she fell backward, launch Honey over her bridging body with her Push Up Plex.
Only instead of driving Harris’ back into the canvas, Honey’s flight is brought to an abrupt and abbreviated halt when her back SLAMS into the turnbuckles of the near corner.
PUSH UP PLEX INTO CORNER @0:47:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOoptKEpypg
One more ruthless blow to her spine ripped a tortured cry out of the Sweet Sensation, Honey spilling to her knees before pitching forward, coming to a rest in a shuddering, face down heap. Allison rolled to her knees, knowing that there was no rush to get back to her feet. After all, it took a good five seconds for her opponent to even begin to attempt pushing her way up to all fours…
… and, almost as soon as the attempt had begun, Honey’s limbs gave way, sending her collapsing to the mat again, Harris barely having enough strength to reach a hand back in a feeble effort to adjust her briefs and restore her modesty.
At last climbing up from her knees, the Mean Girl snatched a handful of hair, forcing the blonde Brit to crawl out of the corner and back toward the center of the ring. For a second time in less than as many minutes, Allison roughly shoved Honey’s noggin between her thighs, applying a standing headscissors—only this time, the redhead then wrapped her arms around her opponent’s waist, pulling her up to her feet. Addison’s hands then traveled a little further south, once more sneaking inside Harris’ bottoms at the legs. This latest wedgie forced the blonde to involuntarily rise up onto her tippy toes, making it all the easier for Allison to lift the Brit until the crown of her skull was virtually parallel to the canvas…
… at which point, the Sadistic Sorority Sister dropped to her backside, SPIKING Honey with a piledriver. Allison opened her legs after touching down, clearing a path for Harris to collapse between them. And although the Sweet Sensation’s body continued to spasm and twitch even after she settled back to earth, all voluntary signals from her brain to the rest of her body had ceased well before she hit the mat, Honey driven at last into merciful unconsciousness.
Addison rolled her foe over, draping herself across Honey’s chest and hooking the Brit’s far leg. And even Craig Long failed to notice, as her slid into position for the count, the redhead’s other hand slipping behind the blonde’s noggin…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Suddenly, Allison tossed Honey’s gam aside, sitting up and pulling the insensate blonde with her. “… the hell. Allison?” Craig scolded her. “You’ve made your point!”
“Oh, shut up and take a Midol,” Addison snapped back, rising and groaning as she pulled up the Brit’s nearly dead weight. Locking her left arm around Honey’s neck, she gripped the waistband of the blonde’s briefs with her right, and with a violent jerk she lifted the Sweet Sensation off her feet. While, once again, a fair portion of Harris’ bottoms were once again forced out of view as a corresponding portion of HER bottom WAS bared to the FAWNatics, the more pressing danger to the Brit came when her shins dropped across the top rope, leaving Honey suspended and helpless.
And there Allison held her for a moment, basking in the jeers and howls of the FAWNatics before kicking back her left leg. And as the redhead’s shapely stem reversed course, Addison fell to her back, absolutely DRILLING Honey’s skull into the mat with sickening force, the impact seeming to leave the Brit upended for an eternity before gravity pulled her down into an ungainly heap.
PUNK THE PERP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fl9PnFB2G4g
Climbing to her knees beside the splattered spitfire, Addison untangled the wreckage of Honey Harris to the point where her shoulders were pressed flat against the mat. At which point, the redhead held up her left hand, all five fingers spread out, while she simply pressed the index finger of her right hand against the cleft of Honey’s bosom. The crowd ROARED in disgust, their sentiment shared by the expression on Craig Long’s face, but he did his job, slapping off the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!
… that finally ended Honey Harris’ suffering for the evening. Craig turned toward the timekeeper’s table, raising a hand to signal…
“No.”
His hand froze, and he turned a disbelieving gaze toward Allison Addison.
“I said five,” the redhead stated simply. “And you’re going to give me five. Or I’m going to give this uggo virgin’s p*ssy the pounding it’s been so desperately craving.”
“You do,” Long countered, “and I’ll reverse this decision.”
“Go ahead,” Addison dared him. “She’ll get a win in the record book, but everyone will know who REALLY won tonight. And I’ll STILL leave her wrecked.”
Unable to bring himself to be responsible for more pain and anguish for the British beauty, even if only in Allison’s tortured reasoning, Craig sighed, his shoulders slumping as her checked Honey’s shoulders and added a perfunctory…
FOUR…
And FIVE!!!!!
And before the redhead could say another word to him, Long waved for the bell, the timekeeper obliging as the ring announcer declared the profoundly obvious.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pinfall… ALLLLLLIIISSSOOONNN ADDDDDDIIISSSOOONNN!!!!!”
Rising to her feet as the referee raised her hand, the Mean Girl looked down at her nemesis, giving Honey’s right cheek a nudge with the toes of her boot, before placing her sole there. “Take your ass back across the Pacific,” Allison purred. “Go home and eat spotted dick to your heart’s content.”
Raising her boot, the Mean Girl nudged Harris’ head again, guiding her to cast closed eyes up at the rafters before Addison slipped into a standing straddle of the blonde. Leaning over the Brit to look down at Honey’s slumbering features, Allison somehow managed to sink even lower.
She spat directly into Honey’s face.
“YOU. DON’T. BELONG. HERE!”
PIPER SEXTON:
ALLISON ADDISON:
”THE NEIGHBOR”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJ-J0JsqBCQ
The speakers pumped out a heavy industrial beat, but one with a decided twinge of pop as Porcelain and the Tramps’ “The Neighbor” played over the sound system, and that’s the FAWNatics’ cue to get to their feet and jeer to their hearts’ content. Contrary to the ring announcer’s introduction, however, it’s Piper Sexton and Allison Addison who push through the curtains at the top of the entrance ramp. While normally this would be reason for the fans to double their displeasure, the crowd was silent save for a confused murmur rippling through the stands, because Allison was wearing a neck brace and sitting in a wheelchair pushed along by her Phi Theta Tappa sister.
Even so, the pale-skinned redhead wore her battle gear, a teal “one piece" that struggled to meet that designation. The bust area was surprisingly well-covered, denying even a hint of cleavage but perfectly accentuating her assets. The spandex bared her shoulders, but ran up to her neck, forming something of a collar. The garment similarly stretched downward in an arrow, exposing plenty of skin on her left and right flanks, before fanning out toward her hips to hug her hindquarters. Meanwhile, Piper was still wearing her clothes from earlier in the evening, a pair tight-fitting sweatpants and a hoodie emblazoned with the Phi Theta Tappa logo that was also featured on Allison’s rear end.
The sisters of Central Florida’s most despised sorority appeared gloomy and dour as they made their way to the ring, Allison going so far as to occasionally sniffle and scrub at the corners of her eyes. When a kind-hearted fan reached out and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, however, Addison showed her true colors.
“BACK OFF, INCEL!” she furiously screeched at the young man while violently recoiling and turning her head ninety degrees to the side. “YOUR DICK AIN’T TALL ENOUGH FOR THIS RIDE!”
Just like that, her ruse was exposed and the FAWNatics resumed their normal programming by showering the pair of young women with jeers. Not that it bothered Allison in the least as she immediately went back to playing up her fake-injury, which of course only incited the fans’ anger even more. After wheeling the redhead to the ring steps, Piper held the ropes open as Allison stepped through, determined to keep the charade up until the very last moment. Addison feebly gestured for Craig Long to bring her a microphone, and the referee did an admirable job maintaining his professionalism by holding in his sigh of dismay as he handed her the stick.
“I know many of you hypocritical cuck-lords were cheering when that DESPICABLE Honey Harris assaulted me…” the Mean Girl said in her best old-lady voice. “...and now you’re crying your delicious libtard snowflake tears now that she got what she deserved…”
Allison’s statement was predictably met with rage and scorn, though the microphone allowed her to scream over them, “KARMA’S A REAL MOTHERFUCKER, AIN’T IT?! THAT BASIC BITCH GOT HER ASS KICKED ‘CAUSE GOD HATES UGGOS!”
“You tell’em, Allie!” Piper shouted, the only person in the entire building willing to support the redhead.
“AND WHERE IS SHE NOW?! WHERE IS SHE NOW?!” Addison screamed. “I’M OUT HERE WITH A BROKEN FREAKIN’ NECK, AND SHE’S IN THE INFIRMARY GETTING A CLEVELAND STEAMER FROM VANNACUTT ALL BECAUSE OF A TEENSY, WEENSY BOO-BOO THAT SHE --”
Suddenly, the production team killed the signal from Allison’s microphone, and in its place came the opening notes of Michelle Branch’s “Best You Ever”.
”BEST YOU EVER”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lN_Lxfeed9A
HONEY HARRIS:
As the first chords of Michelle Branch’s “Best You Ever” began to pulse over the sound system, Honey grabbed the edges of the curtain on both sides and steps through, out onto the stage. For a moment, a VERY fleeting moment, the FAWNatics erupted in welcome for the company’s newest British import. But when the crowd caught sight of both the pained grimace on Honey’s face, and more importantly the expanse of athletic tape wrapped around her midsection, elation transformed into concern.
Even so, the young blonde pumped her right fist to the crowd, opening her mouth to shout, “C’MON, Luuuuhhhhhhh…”
Wincing, Harris’ left arm momentarily moved to embrace her aching ribs.
“C’mon, lets go!!!!” she managed to finish her sentiment, albeit in a softer, more restrained manner than usual.
Honey made her way toward the ring at a slower than usual pace, and similarly, while a number of fans still extended hands to meet the blonde, a greater number hesitated, some cautioning the youngster to turn around and head back to the trainer’s room. But regardless of her own physical distress, the British beauty accepted each offered hand with her own. The FAWN rookie’s well-shaped legs were left bared, gold bikini style bottoms (with black trim) left fully exposed in the absence of her customary gold tee, along with her gold bikini top trimmed in black.
Keeping her left arm wrapped protectively to her tummy, the valiant British beauty gingerly climbed her way up the stairs. Slipping through the ropes, and with a purpose belying the anguish she no doubt had to be experiencing, Honey marched with purpose toward the seemingly incredulous redhead. Tilting Allison’s stick toward her lips, Harris rasped four words…
“I’m… Right… HERE!”
Showing a bit of the temper that she usually kept locked away, Honey punctuated her words by suddenly grabbing Allison’s foam neck brace and tearing it away. Addison predictably reacted with indignant rage, and she blistered the blonde’s cheeks with a slap to the face. Honey immediately fired back with a Forearm Smash to the jawline that staggered the redhead, and when the Mean Girl tried to respond with another slap, Harris blocked with her left arm while continuing to hammer away with her right.
Unprepared for the fierce, withering barrage from someone who looked like she should be in the infirmary rather than in the ring, Allison was driven backwards into a corner to great approval from the fans. Piper screamed for the referee to take action, calling for Honey be ejected from the arena and then hanged at dawn for assaulting an “injured” wrestler, but Craig was deaf to her demands. The man simply gestured for the timekeeper to officially start the match, then made a tepid suggestion to Harris that she should perhaps consider not mauling her opponent in the ropes.
Ever the babyface, Honey didn’t wait for the official to start his count before she sent Allison running towards the diagonally opposite corner with an Irish Whip. Addison turned her back at the last moment to blunt the impact against the turnbuckles, but unfortunately for the Mean Girl, that left her in perfect position for her opponent’s follow-up attack. Harris pushed her aches and pains out of mind and sprinted across the ring as fast as her legs could carry her, then she leapt into the air and came crashing down on Addison with an Avalanche Splash straight out of Pandora’s playbook.
She didn’t have the sheer brawn of the Beach Colossus, so Honey decided to make up for quality with quantity. With Allison still frazzled and dazzled from the opening blitz, Honey sprinted back to the corner and then came barreling back with a repeat Avalanche Splash that left Addison nearly out on her feet as she stumbled out of the corner.
CORNER SPLASHES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9r4OtPpoK4
Allison drunkenly lunged for the blonde wrestler, perhaps looking to slow things down by tying her up in a collar-and-elbow lockup, but Harris deftly ducked under the redhead’s arms and launched herself into the ropes with a Front Handspring. Her boots rebounded off the uppermost steel cable halfway through the flip, putting her back onto her feet with greatly increased momentum, then in a single smooth motion, Honey threw herself backwards and slammed an elbow into Allison’s face just as the Mean Girl turned around.
HANDSPRING BACK ELBOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Su6c8tcY-2o
The Handspring Back Elbow absolutely leveled Addison, leaving her splayed out on her back and staring at the ceiling through glassy eyes. Honey knew she could not afford to fight a war of attrition after suffering a brutal pre-match mugging, so she immediately pounced on her opponent with a simple Crossbody pin. Craig dropped down to count out…
ONE!
TWO!
...before Piper reached into the ring, grabbed Harris by a boot, and dragged her out onto the floor. As soon as she found solid footing, Honey spun around to face the interloper with her fists raised, but Sexton was one step ahead of her.
“AAIIIIIIEEEE! MY EYES!” Piper shrieked as she flopped to the ground with her hands covering her face. “I’M BLIND! BLIIIIIIIIINNNNND!”
The sudden melodrama took the wind out of Honey’s sails as she just stood there flabbergasted, unsure of what exact was happening. A few seconds later, Long was at the standing at the edge of the ring, demanding to know what had transpired out on the floor while he had been delivering the count.
“SHE THREW ACID IN MY FACE!” Sexton wailed, a blatant lie that nonetheless left Harris horrified and stammering as she tried to defend herself while Craig sighed wearily.
“Honey, did you throw acid in her face?” Long deadpanned.
“No! No no no no no! I would never --”
“LOOK OUT! SHE’S GOT A GUN!” Piper screamed, leveling another accusation against the British wrestler and pivoting from one ridiculous falsehood to the next with presidential grace.
“WHAT?!”
“Honey, do you have a gun?” Craig groaned, this time unable to resist the urge to roll his eyes.
“N-No! Of… Of course not!” Honey stuttered. “I’m -- I’m from England…! We don’t --”
“CHECK HER GEAR!” Piper demanded. “YOU NEVER CHECKED HER GEAR!”
The referee was certain that pigs would fly before Honey Harris brought any kind of hidden weapon to the ring, let alone a firearm, but the Phi Theta Tappa sister was technically correct in that he had never performed that particular formality. Long beckoned Honey back into the ring and gave a quick glance over her waistband, pads, and boots, predictably coming up empty in his search for any guns or vials of acid. He turned towards Piper to inform her of such, and to his great surprise, Sexton was back on her feet and absentmindedly browsing on her phone, seemingly right as rain and without a care in the world.
“She… uhh… she doesn’t have any guns…”
“Well, duh…” Sexton snorted without looking up from her screen. “She’s from England, they haven’t invented guns yet. What kind of retard doesn’t know that?”
Craig’s eyes narrowed in irritation, then he sternly warned, “That’s enough, Piper. No more shenani --”
“UNNNNNnnnnngggghhh…” came a groan from behind followed immediately by a cascade of jeers from every corner of the building.
Long spun around towards the direction of the initial noise, and he saw Honey laying in the fetal position with both hands clasped between her thighs and Allison standing over her.
Craig raised a scolding finger toward the smirking redhead, opening his mouth to speak… but yet, saying nothing. Despite the reputation the officiating crew had with the FAWNatics, Long wasn’t stupid. He knew, just as well as any of the people who had actually SEEN Allison strike Honey, exactly what the Sadistic Sorority Sister had done… but he wasn’t among their number, and he could only officiate what he himself had personally witnessed.
And what he witnessed at the moment was Allison Addison stuffing short kick after short kick into the gauze wrapped across the British blonde’s back, each strike prompting a howl of anguish from Harris. But while those blows were certainly heartless and ethically questionable, they WERE legal. The best assistance he could offer Honey was simply ordering Allison to take the fight back where it belonged: in the ring.
“Yeah yeah,” Allison sighed, snatching up a handful of blonde locks and tugging Honey toward verticality. “Why am I not surprised you’ve never heard of foreplay?”
With Craig left stammering to find an answer to that particular charge, Addison took her foe’s wrist. But instead of guiding her opponent back toward the ring, the Mean Girl sent Harris charging away with a whip, the blonde’s legs carrying her at high speed toward the steel ring steps…
Reflex took over. Years of training and muscle memory compelled the British beauty to swivel her hips, turning her belly and chest away from the collision and presenting her back to meet the brutal impact. Neither option was ever ideal, but under normal circumstances, the back was better suited to taking such a jolt. Alas, circumstances tonight were FAR from normal. “Normal circumstances” would not normally encompass these two miscreants attacking her backstage and doing a vicious number on her back.
Honey’s spine struck the metal with enough force to dislodge the steps from their station, sending them skidding about a foot away from their moorings, and to instantly transform the Brit’s shapely gams to Jell-O, Harris sinking to her knees with a soul-churning wail. Even as painful as that impact had appeared, Honey’s cry seemed out of scale with it, demonstrating just how much damage had already been done to her back, even before the bell had ever rung.
“THAT’S ENOUGH, ALLISON!” referee Craig Long snapped. “Get it back in the ring. NOW!”
“We’re going, we’re going!” Allison snapped back, scraping Honey off the floor and muscling her up onto the apron. “Keep it in your pants!”
Sending the blonde rolling back into the ring with a shove, Allison climbed onto the apron herself and slipped through the ropes. While Long followed her, the Mean Girl stalked her prey, Honey having made it up as far as all fours and gingerly crawling toward the center of the ring. Lining up her shot, the lithe redhead took a step forward, planting her left foot and swinging her right upward from underneath the crawling Brit. Again, Allison’s boot met gauze, resulting in a somewhat more muted impact than one would normally expect when the kick connected juuuuuust underneath Honey’s bust…
… but again, that diminished audible impact was more than offset by the oversized moan that passed through Honey’s lips, the blonde’s eyes visibly welling with tears as she flopped over to her back—which resulted in another, though somewhat softer, whimper. Unable to tolerate even the touch of the canvas against her bandaged back, Harris forced herself to roll over—and in so doing, played directly into her rival’s hands. Moving to the Brit’s feet, Allison stuffed the blonde’s left boot against the pit of her right knee, then folding that leg in half to trap it there—and keeping the lock secured by her the back of her own calf pressing against Harris’ shin. Then, dropping to one knee, Addison reached back, claiming a handful of Honey’s locks before pushing back to her feet—pulling the British’s upper body up with her. Lifted almost all the way back to her knees, Honey managed to mewl out something that sounded suspiciously like “Fudgecicles” before the combination of the searing pain from her scalp and the screaming agony from the strain placed on her already traumatized spine rendered any other sound that came from Harris’ mouth unintelligible gibberish…
Unmoved by her opponent’s suffering, Allison held her in this position for a couple of seconds before planting a sole between Honey’s shoulderblades. And the Mean Girl held THAT position for a couple of seconds more, before finally administering something of a mule kick that send the Sweet Sensation plummeting to a savage, face first impact with the mat.
DEATHLOCK HAIRPULL CURBSTOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xztWGrQ5Dmk
Standing over the fallen with her back to the writhing Brit, Allison flexed her fingers, sending a few strands of flaxen locks that had not made the trip back to the canvas with Honey to finally fall away from her grip as well. Grabbing another helping of hair, the redhead led her crawling opponent over to the ropes, then turned Harris and forced her down to her backside, the blonde’s arms spilling over the middle rope. Sinking into a crouch, Addison grabbed the bottom rope and pulled it up, lifting the rubber coated steel above its sister in the middle position, finally allowing the cable to drop—and when it did, it fell across each of Honey’s biceps, binding the blonde’s arms. With a nudge from each boot, the Sadistic Sorority Sister forced Harris’ stems open into a wide ‘V’, Allison then stepping back and drawing back her right foot, seemingly ready to go back to her favorite well by sending a kick to Honey’s kitty…
… only instead, Allison shook her head and swiveled away from her bound adversary. “Naaaaaahhh!” the redhead sneered, slipping a finger into each of the leg holes on her so-called “one-piece” and guiding the garment upward, treating the FAWNatics to something of a self-administered wedgie. And as much as the crowd might despise her, their greater allegiance to bared flesh won out, her gesture met with a roar of approval from the capacity crowd. And even as she spun away from the beloved Brit and THRUST her hips backward, giving Honey’s features an enthusiastic buffeting, a number of the more blackhearted FAWNatics continued to give a lustful voice to their approval, even as a faction of jeers grew louder. With her arms bound, there was precious little Honey could do to counter, her open legs flailing as she attempted to twist her head from underneath Allison’s ass, frantically searching for an airway.
Eventually, the referee’s count forced Addison to relent, a wide-eyed and open-mouthed Honey letting out a loud gasp as the redhead stepped away. Reaching behind her, the Mean Girl’s fingers caressed her own glutes as she smiled and observed, “Bytch tears really ARE the best moisturizer.”
Before Craig could step in and free Honey, Allison spun back toward her adversary, bending down to gather and pull up on the Brit’s ankles. The British blonde found herself elevated until her back was parallel to the canvas, Harris’ weight supported between the vengeful Mean Girl and the ring rope vice constricting her arms. Separating Honey’s stems , the redhead launched a kick upward between them, no change of heart in store on this occasion. And though, to be fair, Allison’s boot meets a fair amount of the Brit’s tush, it also connects with something that rhymes, Harris letting out an agonized squeak as Addison released her ankles.
This time, before Allison could take any further liberties, Craig Long stepped between the two women and marched the Mean Girl back toward mid-ring. “She’s still in the ropes, Allison,” the ref scolded her. “You’ve GOT to let her OUT of them!”
But while Addison offered her rebuttal, out on the floor, Piper Sexton stealthily made her way to the still-bound Briton. And from behind, the American blonde reached in with both hands, around Honey’s noggin, and savagely DUUUUUUUG her talons into the eyes of the Sweet Sensation. Once more, the helpless Brit’s legs were sent into a desperate spasm of kicks, her arms straining against their constraints with no success. Immediately, the FAWNatics vociferously implored the official to turn around, but in a savage irony, their shouted demands combined with Allison’s continued protests to help drown out Honey’s own shrieks of torment.
With her sadistic sorority sister buying her time, Piper seized Honey’s right leg by the ankle, pulling the captured limb as far up and back as she could before tucking it behind Harris’ entangled right arm. Sexton repeated the same process with the other leg, and now with her ankles tied behind her ears and the sinews in her hamstrings and groin threatening to tear apart at any moment, Honey’s anguished wails finally reached a sufficient volume and pitch to gain Craig’s attention.
“PIPER!” the referee furiously snapped, though the dastardly perpetrator only responded by doing her best Skylar Mitchell imitation, folding her hands behind her back and whistling innocently as she gazed at the ceiling and rocked back and forth on her heels.
Before Long could eject Piper from ringside, however, Allison dashed past the official from behind. A psychotic, malicious smile stretched across her face as she closed in on her trapped opponent, and then a heartbeat later she fired an absolutely savage punt to Honey’s vulnerable undercarriage. With Addison’s forward momentum adding to the force of the blow, the impact lifted Harris a couple of inches off the mat, and that finally dislodged her from her bindings in the steel cables.
Honey fell into a heap and laid on her side with both hands clasped between her thighs, the persistent aching throb in her ribs and spine now replaced by a more urgent burn in her legs and crotch. Not wanting her fans to see her tortured expression, Honey rolled over onto her stomach, then she pressed her forehead against the canvas and began to cry.
Her parents had vehemently opposed the notion of Honey taking her talents to FAWN. This, they had warned, was the domain of the perverse and the lawless. A place where the good and the kind have their spirits tortured until they either swallowed by the sands of time as haunted husks of themselves, or they became just as embittered and cruel as their tormentors. Her father had reminded Honey of how she had been inconsolable for weeks after Kylie Sanders’ turn towards darkness, the Pleasant Valley Pariah forever serving as a solemn testament that even the most noble soul could be twisted and blackened. Meanwhile, Honey’s mother had been on the verge of tears when she spoke of the horrific ignominy that her baby girl might suffer at the hands of the federation’s most tawdry predators.
They had argued passionately -- and fruitlessly -- that she was too good for this sinful place, and now Honey was starting to realize that perhaps her parents were right. She was a superior wrestler to Allison Addison, of this much Harris was sure, and yet that didn’t seem to matter a jot when all of the Mean Girl’s underhanded tactics were met with tacit approval from the higher-ups. Honey had filed three -- THREE!!! -- formal complaints with Bethany Christian after her first match with Allison, and all Bethany had done was suggest that Harris take matter into her own hands and fight fire with fire.
None of it was fair.
None of it was even presenting the illusion of being fair.
The referee counted “SIX!” and with her body already in no condition to fight further, Honey stifled a soft, heartbroken sob as she contemplated staying down for a second humiliating loss to the sadistic redhead.
“Give the count in British!” Allison suddenly demanded, a request so bizarre that Craig nearly had a seizure from his confusion.
“Errrrrrrrrr… what...” Long said flatly.
“You heard her!” Piper chimed in from the floor. “We want this asshole counted down in her native language!”
“But… but… I am --”
“Ugh, look… I get that your mother probably drank a lot when she was pregnant, but try to keep up here…” Addison sighed as if she were explaining something to a small child. “You were counting in English. English is the language of America, and she’s NOT from America --”
“Just like Obama!” Sexton interjected.
“-- so English is NOT her mother tongue. So for her sake, give the count in BRITISH. I want her tiny, backwards brain to UNDERSTAND that she doesn’t belong here!”
“Sho shomting like dish...” Piper offered in a poor imitation of Sean Connery’s very dishtinctive way of shpeaking.
“No, Pipes,” Allison said with a shake of her head. “You’re speaking like a wife-beater, not a British person. You have to think like them! How would you speak if you spent your whole life eating mad cows while you failed at wrestling, soccer, dental care --”
“That is QUITE enough!” Honey roared, and a moment later, the crowd roared too, because the Sweet Sensation was back on her feet, hunched over at the waist and swaying unsteadily, but upright nonetheless.
It was one thing for Harris to suffer another personal defeat, but to hear the sisters of Phi Theta Tappa disparage her proud heritage was beyond the pale. Battered ribs and pulled hamstrings be damned, Honey would fight to the last and take her place among her idols, unbowed, unbent, and unbroken.
She staggered forward, and perhaps due to Allison’s surprise, Honey was able to rock the sorority sister with a Forearm Shiver to the collarbones, followed by another, then another, then another. Unfortunately for fans of sugar and spice and everything nice, the rally was short-lived. Harris’ myriad of ailments enervated her strikes, rendering her continued defiance symbolic rather than anything substantial. A rapid poke to the eyes curtailed Honey’s momentum, earning Addison a rebuke from the referee and another hearty round of boos from the FAWNatics, then the Mean Girl bent Harris over backwards and trapped her head under one arm in a standing Dragon Sleeper.
Back in control, Allison immediately went back to her favorite tactic of punishing Honey’s undercarriage. The Mean Girl reached down to grab a handful of elastic waistband with her free hand, then yanked those golden briefs into a hateful Front Wedgie that left Harris squealing into her armpit. Even so, the blonde wrestler continued to wave off the official every time he came to check for a submission, and after about ten seconds, Allison had grown impatient.
A particular vicious jerk on her trunks lifted Honey completely off the mat, her boots pointed nearly towards the ceiling, and then Allison laid out to drive the back of her head into the deck with a nasty Reverse DDT.
REVERSE DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWwI1yIMO9E
No preening or theatrics this time as the redhead immediately pivoted into a crossbody pin, and she pumped her fist in time with Craig counting…
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NNOOOO!
...before Harris somehow found the strength to rollover onto her stomach, breaking the pin and sending Addison spilling to the mat a couple of feet away. Allison’s hands shot to her hair, tugging at her fiery red locks in disbelief and looking like she’d seen a ghost while the audience gave voice to their jubilation with a thunderous peal of cheers. Despite it all -- the backstage ambush, the cheap shots, the double-teaming -- Honey was forcing herself up to hands and knees even after taking one of her opponent’s usual finishing maneuvers.
“You can’t break me, Allison Addison…” she muttered, more for her own benefit than anything else. “...you WON’T break me…”
The vicious redhead gave her head a bemused shake. “Are you REALLY that stupid an uggo virgin to get it? I already have broken you. Maybe the time difference means that message hasn’t reached your brain yet…”
Helping herself to Honey’s mane, Addison tugged the sweat-drenched, nearly flaccid blonde up as far as her knee, then traded her single-handed grip on the Briton’s locks for a hold on each of her wrists. The Mean Girl then began to pull back on Honey’s arms, until the Sweet Sensation’s spine began to arch, forcing her chest forward, the strain on her savaged back forcing her eyes to begin to water once more…
… and when Allison foot SLAMMED up between her thighs, those fresh tears began to POUR down Harris’ cheeks, a torrential downpour only intensifying as kick after kick after kick after kick ‘THWACK!’s in rapid-fire fashion against the blonde import’s defenseless flower. And through it all, Honey suffered in… well, not silence. She moaned. She whimpered. She sobbed. But what she did NOT do was beg, or plead, or above all, surrender.
FAWN could be, and often was, an EXCEEDINGLY lax environment when it came to rule enforcement—a clawhold applied to the crotch WAS a legal finishing maneuver around these parts, after all. But that was a singular, sustained hold. The torture it applied was a steady, constant build. This repeated underhanded—underfooted?—barrage, meanwhile, saw one blow intensify the one before it, in a way that Craig Long, at least, simply could not abide. He began his count, reaching “FOUR!” before Addison tossed her rival’s arms away, practically sneering in disgust as the doused British spitfire melted into a puddle of boneless flesh.
Circling her prey, the lithe redhead pulled Honey up to a seated position, stepping between the blonde’s parted stems as she faced her foe. With a handful of hair, Addison guided the Brit’s head between her thighs, then clamped on a TIGHT standing headscissors. Even if Harris’ body had still possessed the strength to, from her tush she did not have nearly the leverage necessary to try to counter the Sadistic Sorority Sister’s headscissors into a backdrop…
… which became MOST unfortunate for Harris when Allison’s fingers slipped inside the legs of her trunks, the redhead suddenly and VICIOUSLY yanking upward, Honey squealing as more and more of her togs disappeared between her cheeks thanks to Addison’s Risin’ Dirty.
“You, Honey Harris,” the redhead sighed, sounding almost disinterested, “you are, simply put, my BYTCH!” Even as she spoke, Addison continued to yank upward on the garment, Honey’s boots skidding across the mat as she tried frantically to find enough traction and leverage to do ANYTHING to alleviate the strain on her undercarriage. “All your ‘skill’, all your ‘training’… it doesn’t go for jack sh!t here! Want the ultimate proof that your cottage cheese ass doesn’t belong here? You may be my bytch, but you can’t even SAY that word, can you???”
Tightening her grip, the Mean Girl added a cruel sawing motion to her pulling. “Go on,” she demanded. “Say it. Say, ‘I’m Allison Addison’s bytch, and I give up!’ That’s the ONLY thing that YOU can do to get out of this…”
Whatever sounds emerged from Honey’s lips, they likely weren’t intended to be what Allison had ordered. But whatever their actual intended meaning might be could hardly be discerned by any observer.
True to her word, the end of the Sweet Sensations torment came not through any action of hers, but simply from Allison Addison giving in to boredom. Releasing the standing headscissors, the redhead slipped around behind her chew toy, slipping her hands underneath Honey’s arms to pull the blonde up onto leaden legs. Absorbing much of Harris’ weight against her own body, the Mean Girl reached around, digging her fingers into the yielding flesh of the Brit’s bosom. Allison then glanced briefly over her shoulder, and determining that her positioning was to her liking, she fell backward, launch Honey over her bridging body with her Push Up Plex.
Only instead of driving Harris’ back into the canvas, Honey’s flight is brought to an abrupt and abbreviated halt when her back SLAMS into the turnbuckles of the near corner.
PUSH UP PLEX INTO CORNER @0:47:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOoptKEpypg
One more ruthless blow to her spine ripped a tortured cry out of the Sweet Sensation, Honey spilling to her knees before pitching forward, coming to a rest in a shuddering, face down heap. Allison rolled to her knees, knowing that there was no rush to get back to her feet. After all, it took a good five seconds for her opponent to even begin to attempt pushing her way up to all fours…
… and, almost as soon as the attempt had begun, Honey’s limbs gave way, sending her collapsing to the mat again, Harris barely having enough strength to reach a hand back in a feeble effort to adjust her briefs and restore her modesty.
At last climbing up from her knees, the Mean Girl snatched a handful of hair, forcing the blonde Brit to crawl out of the corner and back toward the center of the ring. For a second time in less than as many minutes, Allison roughly shoved Honey’s noggin between her thighs, applying a standing headscissors—only this time, the redhead then wrapped her arms around her opponent’s waist, pulling her up to her feet. Addison’s hands then traveled a little further south, once more sneaking inside Harris’ bottoms at the legs. This latest wedgie forced the blonde to involuntarily rise up onto her tippy toes, making it all the easier for Allison to lift the Brit until the crown of her skull was virtually parallel to the canvas…
… at which point, the Sadistic Sorority Sister dropped to her backside, SPIKING Honey with a piledriver. Allison opened her legs after touching down, clearing a path for Harris to collapse between them. And although the Sweet Sensation’s body continued to spasm and twitch even after she settled back to earth, all voluntary signals from her brain to the rest of her body had ceased well before she hit the mat, Honey driven at last into merciful unconsciousness.
Addison rolled her foe over, draping herself across Honey’s chest and hooking the Brit’s far leg. And even Craig Long failed to notice, as her slid into position for the count, the redhead’s other hand slipping behind the blonde’s noggin…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Suddenly, Allison tossed Honey’s gam aside, sitting up and pulling the insensate blonde with her. “… the hell. Allison?” Craig scolded her. “You’ve made your point!”
“Oh, shut up and take a Midol,” Addison snapped back, rising and groaning as she pulled up the Brit’s nearly dead weight. Locking her left arm around Honey’s neck, she gripped the waistband of the blonde’s briefs with her right, and with a violent jerk she lifted the Sweet Sensation off her feet. While, once again, a fair portion of Harris’ bottoms were once again forced out of view as a corresponding portion of HER bottom WAS bared to the FAWNatics, the more pressing danger to the Brit came when her shins dropped across the top rope, leaving Honey suspended and helpless.
And there Allison held her for a moment, basking in the jeers and howls of the FAWNatics before kicking back her left leg. And as the redhead’s shapely stem reversed course, Addison fell to her back, absolutely DRILLING Honey’s skull into the mat with sickening force, the impact seeming to leave the Brit upended for an eternity before gravity pulled her down into an ungainly heap.
PUNK THE PERP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fl9PnFB2G4g
Climbing to her knees beside the splattered spitfire, Addison untangled the wreckage of Honey Harris to the point where her shoulders were pressed flat against the mat. At which point, the redhead held up her left hand, all five fingers spread out, while she simply pressed the index finger of her right hand against the cleft of Honey’s bosom. The crowd ROARED in disgust, their sentiment shared by the expression on Craig Long’s face, but he did his job, slapping off the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!
… that finally ended Honey Harris’ suffering for the evening. Craig turned toward the timekeeper’s table, raising a hand to signal…
“No.”
His hand froze, and he turned a disbelieving gaze toward Allison Addison.
“I said five,” the redhead stated simply. “And you’re going to give me five. Or I’m going to give this uggo virgin’s p*ssy the pounding it’s been so desperately craving.”
“You do,” Long countered, “and I’ll reverse this decision.”
“Go ahead,” Addison dared him. “She’ll get a win in the record book, but everyone will know who REALLY won tonight. And I’ll STILL leave her wrecked.”
Unable to bring himself to be responsible for more pain and anguish for the British beauty, even if only in Allison’s tortured reasoning, Craig sighed, his shoulders slumping as her checked Honey’s shoulders and added a perfunctory…
FOUR…
And FIVE!!!!!
And before the redhead could say another word to him, Long waved for the bell, the timekeeper obliging as the ring announcer declared the profoundly obvious.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pinfall… ALLLLLLIIISSSOOONNN ADDDDDDIIISSSOOONNN!!!!!”
Rising to her feet as the referee raised her hand, the Mean Girl looked down at her nemesis, giving Honey’s right cheek a nudge with the toes of her boot, before placing her sole there. “Take your ass back across the Pacific,” Allison purred. “Go home and eat spotted dick to your heart’s content.”
Raising her boot, the Mean Girl nudged Harris’ head again, guiding her to cast closed eyes up at the rafters before Addison slipped into a standing straddle of the blonde. Leaning over the Brit to look down at Honey’s slumbering features, Allison somehow managed to sink even lower.
She spat directly into Honey’s face.
“YOU. DON’T. BELONG. HERE!”