FreeCatFights
General Category => Chat Fight Logs And Message Board Fights => Message Board Fights => Topic started by: BustyTiffany35 on January 12, 2018, 02:45:47 PM
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[The Hammerstein Ballroom in Manhattan, New York City]
The building is packed, floor seats are jammed, the balconies have fans practically hanging over its railings. Not a single seat is left unattended, but practically everyone's on their feet. It's main event time and the match that most everyone paid to see is just moments away - a Steel Cage match between the always alluring "Platinum Queen" and the always devious "Cuban Goddess". The mob that surrounds the caged ring is riled up to a boiling point, practically starved for the main event to commence and thirsty for all the violence that promises to ensue. Then, the lights go out, and this begins to play over the PA: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAb5SasJ2Y4
A flickering strobe light showers the stage while the music climbs in volume and intensity. Then I calmly, confidently saunter out, the crowds' voices booming like thunder. I pause at the top of the ramp while rolling waves of pale smoke crawl over the stage, surveying the audience and feeling a lil' amused as I sense a bit of bewilderment amongst them. Most of the fans notice something's a lil', different. The music ain't exactly what I'd normally walk out to, and the outfit that hugs my figure isn't the usual leopard print or hot pink that's become synonymous with my ring gear. Instead, I swapped that out for black and gold lycra booty shorts that look like they were practically painted on, with a matching styled bustier that hugs my flat tummy and ample chest like a second skin. A black choker wraps around the base of my neck, and fishnet stockings, black knee pads, and black knee-high boots adorn my tall, toned legs. Then, there's the jacket - a sleek black leather hooded jacket with a silver skull insignia printed on the back. Not a lot of fans have seen me wear this jacket before, and with the hood drawn over my head it takes a few of those fans a moment to even recognize me. But once I draw that hood back and they see the big, flowing platinum blonde hair and the irresistible smirk on my glossy lips, and I strike my signature pose, spreading my arms out to either side of me while tilting my head back, they're all cheers as they recognize their Queen. I move forward through the darkness of the arena, sauntering down the aisle while my eyes remain focused on the ring, never leaving the towering steel confines of that cage sitting in the centre of the Ballroom.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this, is your Main Event of the evening! This match is scheduled for one fall (ONE FALL!!) and it is a Steel Cage Match! The only way to win is by pinfall or submission! Coming to the ring at this time, fighting out of Las Vegas, Nevada. She is the "Platinum Queen". This, is, TIFFANY!"
I stand in the middle of the caged ring as the announcer's voice bellows over my music and the noise of the fans, arms spreading out once again to strike my trademark pose for the roaring crowds. In that moment I glance around the cage - fairly standard setup, tall unforgiving steel walls, with a ceiling on top to keep the action enclosed to the ring. Once that door shuts and they lock it up, there ain't no getting out, or in. No one to help that Crazy Cuban Wonder Woman. I smirk at the thought of that and remove my jacket, revealing a few more new details to my outfit: a long black sleeve on my right arm that extends from the shoulder down to my wrist, and a black elbow pad and black wrist tape equiping my left arm. I dash my jacket into a corner of the cage and lean back against the turnbuckles, eyes narrowed on that open door, patiently waiting for my "Cuban Goddess" to arrive..
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In my corner, I start to do some last minute stretches. I begin by stretching one leg after the other up against the top turnbuckle, then I set both feet down and spread my legs until they're shoulder-width apart. Bending forward at the waist, I extend my arms up until my fingers point to the rafters. After 'bout twenty seconds of holding that stretch, a few watchful fans at ringside start chanting "This is Awesome!". I turn my face to narrow my eyes at em' from over my shoulder, grinning wolfishly. I straighten myself up when the speakers start blaring "Fear to Change", and I smoothly lean back against my corner once more, nonchalantly watching my opponent and long time nemesis arrive while bobbing my head to her entrance theme. It's a pretty good track.
The throng of fans packed into the Hammerstein shower the Cuban Goddess with heavy boos and piercing cheers. Mixed reactions are always so much fun. This is the same kinda reaction that Reigns would get whenever so much as his name is flashed on the big screen. Except Eva here is getting more catcalls. Or, maybe Roman's the one who gets more catcalls. Tonight's cutting it real close.
I watch my lovely adversary strut down to the caged ring and climb those steel steps, her dark eyes glaring fiercely at me. I pucker my glossy lips and blow her a kiss. The hot Tramp is in her usual skimpy attire, low cut top with black leather briefs, the Cuban flag plastered all over both pieces of barely there clothing. I arch my brow and tilt my head to the side as I watch her bend over the middle rope, her cute ass wiggling for us all. This gal sure gets under my skin, but I do have to admit she certainly knows how to grab your attention.
My smirk deepens as I watch the gal lose her shit on the pervy ref, who gets a lil' overzealous in patting the Goddess down. Like I said, she's a real attention grabber, or is it more like attention grabs her? Whatever, the perv's making his way over to me now. He's already stepped into my personal space, both hands up, palms directly facing my breasts. I don't even flinch as I lean back in my corner, but the sardonic, darkly threatening look on my face just screams that trouble's all he's gonna find if he even thinks about trying that. He gets the hint, moves his hands away from chest level, instead he reaches down to lightly pat my boots. I roll my eyes as he steps away, and the buzzing anticipation heightens throughout the crowds. The door to the cage is padlocked and chained up - no one's getting in, no one's getting out until that second bell rings and a winner's declared. The ref turns to the timekeeper as I push off my corner, setting my sights on the Goddess.
"Alright, sugah," I holler out at Eva as I saunter into the center of the ring, my hands busy putting my flowing platinum mane into a tight ponytail. "It's time I properly whip that ass."
The bell rings loudly. I rush forward, going for a spear to tackle ya back into your corner - except, at the last second, I straighten up, and fire a rising, slicing knife-edge chop aimed right for the "TRAMPS" logo stamped in red over that Cuban Flag that's printed across your halter!
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I serve ya up some chops and your big breasts take em' up eagerly, and they like it so much they won't stop jiggling in that skimpy top ya got on! The stiff slap of my forearm to your chest is as loud as a gunshot, but even that stinging sound pales in comparison to your deafening, screeching voice as ya holler and scream at the ref. Ya whine about me going after those boobs, but he's a bit too busy staring at those boobs to really listen to your complaints, which sets ya off even more. I'm actually fearing you'll pop an eardrum by how loud you're screaming, when abruptly like the hot head that ya are, ya spin around and come charging toward me like a mad woman. I bite the corner of my lower lip and spring back a step as ya come after me.
"That's right, c'mon," I coo at you as ya come closer. "Eyes right here, sugah."
I notice you're covering your breasts as ya run at me, something that makes me laugh a bit. I don't know exactly what kinda move ya wanna pull off charging at me while shielding your tits - but I certainly got something else in mind. A couple of counters quickly start to run through my head: kick her in the head, forearm shimmy to the face, side step and KNEE to the tummy, superkick party, Spinebuster Arn Anderson style, drop toe hold, Spinebuster Ron Simmons style, hurricanranna-- But I notice I've backed up a good amount and the steel cage wall is now just about five or four steps behind me. I arch a brow and the smirk on my lips deepens. Well, might as well get this party started..
I do end up choosing Option 3, and that's sidestep just as ya come into range. Instead of hitting your stomach with that KNEE however I simply get outta your way, but my hand does reach up into your dark, silky hair from behind as I stand beside ya for the moment. Your momentum carries ya forward and you're moving way too fast and wildly to stop now or adjust your course, and now with my hand in your hair there ain't no stopping ya from running into the cage wall!
Well, I don't just send ya running into the wall, I send ya flying. I LAUNCH ya into the cage wall by your hair, still keeping my place on the mat while your face, boobs and upper torso just go soaring into that steel!
The crowds roar in unison as ya smack hard against the wall, and ya go bouncing off of it, landing on your shaky feet, legs all wobbly as ya struggle to regain your balance. Without missing a beat, I move in quick from behind and wrap my toned arms firmly around your waist, looking to snap back, pop my hips and lift and throw ya back with a snap german suplex!
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Eva bounces hard off the cage wall and stumbles back haphazardly, her awkward unbalanced steps bringing her right into my waiting arms. I clutch her tight, and that cute, firm butt of hers wiggles up into my crotch, making me hold her tighter and press my ample breasts into her upper back. Mmmh.. she's no Punky, but it sure as hell feels good to hold this gal in my arms.. Still, the moment of intimacy is brief, as I hoist her up off the canvas, popping my hips and SNAPPING back to German Suplex her into the mat behind us!
The canvas rumbles loudly as the Cuban Goddess crash lands dead centre into the middle of the ring. I'm already up, swirling around onto a foot and a knee, my platinum ponytail whipping around me as I turn to face ya. There's this look on my face, this chilling, icy stare that I've suddenly taken on that not a lot of fans have seen on me in quite sometime. I'm usually always so relaxed, so calm and poised in my matches, until ya rile me up and I get all hot and aggressive. This match though, that collectedness is certainly there - but also, it looks as if I'm a lot more, focused, than normal. Like, I'm fighting to prove something. That look that's on my face right now, it's ice cold, hard and determined, it's the same kind of expression that I'd normally wear in the early years of my career. For long time fans they'd recognize it. You'd see me sport that death glare during a time when I had absolutely nothing, when I worked to the bone to prove I was worth a damn, when winning championships, winning titles, just fucking winning were the most important things in my world, in my life. It was a look of a warrior queen ready to fight tooth and nail to earn her crown, ready to destroy everyone and everything in her path to take that crown. The look of a warrior queen who is ready to conquer all over again because she wants to reclaim her throne.
That look - it completely cracks apart as I see you're now laying face down, ass up, in the middle of the ring. I can't help myself, I start grinning big time when I see ya like that.
I get to my feet and saunter over to ya with my hands resting on my shapely hips while the fans share a good laugh at your expense. I stand beside ya and sigh loudly at your sorry state, before I whip my right forearm down in a slicing arc - SNAPPING the back of my hand into your lovely upturned ass cheek with a chop that would make Kenta Kobashi flinch.
As ya howl loudly from the stinging chop, I turn around, still standing beside ya but facing your feet now. I bend over and wrap my arms around your waist, taking a deep breath to jerk ya up off the mat. I take another breath and straighten up, hoisting your body up with me until you're dangling by my side with my arms around your waist. Most of the rowdy audience actually gasp and marvel at this, me lifting ya up with such ease. You're what, a solid 145? I've deadlifted 300 pounds on a regular, usually when I work out with Becky Lynch. So this, this ain't hard at all. Lifting ya up and throwing ya around is like ragdollin' a bag of feathers - if every one of those feathers could screech like a mad woman..
I don't just lift ya up off the canvas though - I flip ya around, until your legs now whip over my shoulder and your back is facing the mat. It's at this point that I'm ready to complete the deadlif gutwrench powerbomb and I start lean forward, getting ready to plant ya right down into the canvas!
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Damnit.
I shoulda kept my wrists clasped tighter around her waist when I lifted her over my shoulder - she'd have zero wiggle room if I had just kept my hands together a moment more before planting her into the canvas. But I loosened my grip on her waist too early and now the slippery Tramp managed to flip over my shoulder, slither down my back, and land behind me. A second later her arm whips up over my face and wraps tightly around my neck. I let out a gasp as she pulls on my head and takes me down with an Orton-style backbreaker - I lean back, my feet don't leave the canvas, but I still drop back until my back slams into her lower back and I kinda bounce off of her back to crash back-first into the mat and as I lay back flat on my back groaning miserably from her backbreaker, I realize I've said the word 'back' more times than I've ever had in my entire life. Come to think of it, I tried to get my chiropractor to do this exact same move to me after I came back from that East Coast tour. He didn't, so I gave him an RKO. No, I'm just kiddin'. I hit him with The Diamond Cutter.
Anyway, I'm staring up at the cage's ceiling, at the lights that shine down on me through all those lil' mesh openings, hurting just enough to keep me down for the moment, but not hurting enough to really take me outta the fight. I just need a breather, that's all. Eva's shapely figure looms over me though, so I guess she ain't gonna give me that moment's rest. She's towering across my prone figure and she soon mounts me with blood in her eyes and hands balled into fists. And I can't help but grin.
Looks like the goddess is finally ready to fight..
"Ngh! Ugh! OW!"
Ya rain punch after punch down onto me, but I quickly bring my forearms up to block your rapid fists. Some of your shots get through though, and they smack and slap the side of my head pretty stiffly. Gawd damn, sugah, ya sure can hit pretty hard when ya want to! But let's be honest -
those punches aren't THAT painful. I mean, they hurt, but this ain't Cris Cyborg dropping bombs on me right now. In fact, the ones that do land just start to piss me off.
Biting my lower lip, I SLAM my feet into the canvas and BUCK my hips up explosively to throw ya forward, off-balanced, lifting ya up off my tummy as ya go to rain a few more shots down into my head. Ya dip forward so your palms slap onto the canvas just above my head. I immediately reach up and grab your left wrist with both my hands and YANK it in tight, clutching it against my chest. I buck up again, and TURN hard into ya at the same time, looking to roll us over and mount YOU now!
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Hah! The shoe's now on the other table. Which is turned. Bitch!
I manage to buck Eva off of me, and as she topples onto her side with her left arm still clutched in my hands, I manage to roll on top of her until she's flat on her back and I'm mounting her now! I let out a sigh of relief as this sexy Tramp is no longer grounding and pounding me, instead she's on the bottom and I'm on top of her. I lick my lips which are smiling a wicked smile, my hands still clutching her left wrist in tight vice grip. She's already trying to cover up with her right hand, but with her left hand trapped, there's a nice big opening for me to just SLAP the left side of her face! I do so, and her head whips to the side and the fans go "OOOOHHHHHHH!" once again!
Ya manage to take your left hand back after I smacked the taste outta your mouth, and ya now properly cover up. Ya look like you're almost begging me to not hit ya the way you're holding your hands up. Smirking, I grab your left wrist once more, but this time I grasp your right wrist as well. I SHOVE both of 'em up over your head and SLAM your hands down into the canvas, pinning ya there. Those big luscious tits of yours thrust upward as I pin your arms down firmly, threatening to just pop outta your halter, while my own nipples start to tent the skimpy gold and black bustier that just barely conceals my exquisite breasts. I'm squeezing on your wrists and smirking in your face and glaring deep into your panicked eyes now as I have ya pinned to the mat, and the ref looks to make a count. I however have other intentions in mind.
"This is where you belong, Eva. Beneath me, pinned. Helpless. But as good as ya look down there, sugah.." I purr down at ya and give ya a wink, my smile getting increasingly darker, "I think you'd look better splattered all over the cage wall!"
With that, my fingers loosen around your wrists and I start to pull back. My crotch was buried against yours for the moment, rubbing hotly between your legs as I held ya down and pinned your hands above your head. Now, my lycra booty shorts peel off from your leather briefs and I stifle the softest of moans. I smoothy and hastily hop back to my feet, but not before my arms reach down and loop tight around your calves. I take a few steps back, dragging ya with me, until my back is closer to the cage wall, and at that point I lift your legs up vertically until I have ya virtually upside down. The length of your body forms a rigid line, the back of your head and shoulders resting at my feet on the canvas and now my knees start digging into your lower back. I pucker my lips and blow ya a kiss, before I tip back, my own straighten, rigid figure falling back with your legs still clutched tight until I've dropped to the canvas. At the same time, my knees push into your back, lifting your prone body up off the mat as I aim to SLINGSHOT ya face-first into the cage wall!
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The Slingshot worked great - I catapult ya off the canvas and send ya soaring right into the hard steel wall. The impact of your pretty face into the steel mesh causes the entire cage to shudder! I roll up onto my feet in one smooth motion, though once I slide to my feet it takes me a moment to get my bearings together. Those punches and slaps from earlier had a bit more of an effect on me than I initially expected, but you're a lot worse for wear. Ya bounced off the cage, and now you're shuffling back on wobbly legs, dazedly whirling around to walk right back to me. The first thing ya see is that wicked smile on my glossy lips. Then, my sultry voice, and two simple words.
"Going up?"
Left hand goes to your neck, fingers spreading across your throat. Then, those fingers TIGHTEN. Right hand grabs ya between your fishnet clad thighs, fingers spreading across those tight leather briefs. Then, those finger CLUTCH your sex. I take a deep breath, bend my knees, and LIFT. I hoist ya up into the air, high over my head, my toned arms extending upward, my lean biceps stiffening, smooth triceps tightening. I have ya up in a Military Press and the fans just go wild, applauding yet another show of pure strength from the Platinum Queen. I glance up at ya as I hold ya up in this position, smirking as I hear ya whimpering while squirming in my hands.
"Seems familiar, doesn't it sugah?" I coo up at ya, "didn't ya do this to Heidi?" I squeeze down on your briefs just a bit more, getting ya to holler out loudly. Holy hell, you are louder than Milena..
I face the cage wall that ya bounced off of just a moment ago. And I start to run toward it, looking to LAUNCH ya over the ring ropes and into the cage wall again!
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I hurl your sexy body into the steel wall with enough force to make the entire cage shake, and then I watch with delight as ya bounce off only to land crotch-first over the top rope!
"This just isn't your night, sweetheart," I purr with a laugh, just standing there for a few moments, watching one of my biggest rivals suffer in physical agony and burn in humiliation. Straddling that top rope with a pained expression written across your beautiful face, loud anguished moans erupting from your wide open mouth, I can't help but move up beside ya and grab hold of the top rope as well. I shoot ya a wicked look, and through your pitiful moaning ya plead for me to not do what we both know I'm gonna do.
Up and down the Cuban Goddess goes! I send her on a ride, shaking the top rope like a Warrior while she remains seated atop it, the cable just digging deeper into her throbbing kitty! I continue shaking the rope for a few agonizing moments, making ya bounce wildly before I let go and step back. I laugh loudly and watch as your body continue to bounce over the shaking cable, your cries and moans reaching a fever pitch. You're still seated precariously over the top rope looking more disheveled than ever, staring straight ahead at the set of ring ropes in front of ya, face twisted in pain, hands clutching the top rope, your pussy probably just burning right 'bout now, and I think to myself that my lil' Goddess has had enough of this ride. Time to get ya off, sugah.
As the fans laugh at your predicament, I turn and run to the ring ropes that you're facing. In one fluid motion, I leap up onto the top rope, the cable bending slightly as my boots plant themselves into it for a moment. Then, I spring off the ropes, leaping back high into the air, hurtling toward ya as ya remain stuck on the top rope! All that training with Mundo and Ricochet over the past two years is really starting to pay off, as I'm looking more like a natural when it comes to hitting aerials and springboard maneuvers. I mean, I won't be hitting Inverted Phoenix Splashes anytime soon (yet) but at least I got the basics down for now.
With my platinum ponytail whipping about behind my soaring body, I gracefully turn myself in mid-flight, whip my arm out, and aim to slam it into your chest with a twisting springboard closeline!
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The flying springboard closeline hits flush, and my arm slams into your chest with enough force to whip ya off the top rope and send ya crashing into the canvas! I myself have to watch out for my own landing, bracing for the impact to the mat as I fall into it. Landing after hitting a aerial wasn't ever my strong-suit, it's probably what deterred me from ever wanting to do these kinda moves in the first place. But as Ricochet would say: "just roll with it." Indeed, I try to do just that, but my body just kinda dumps into the mat and I roll about ridiculously for a few turns before coming to a complete stop. That was horrible advice, Puma. These landings don't ever get easier..
As bad as my landing was, I'm sure Eva's was worse. I groggily push myself up and look over, and immediately I let out a laugh. Eva's landing was definitely worse - she's now upside down, legs tangled up in the middle and top ropes, her luscious tits now fully exposed! The rowdy crowd is riled up good and proper now at the sight of the tousled Cuban Goddess now strung up and half naked. I saunter over to her and grab her halter top that finally came loose and is now bunched around her neck. I roughly pull it off to leave her upper body completely naked. Then, I kneel down beside her, grabbing at her arms.
"You and Carmen just loved tying me up, didn't y'all?" I purr down at ya as I YANK your arms behind your back and start to tie them together, at the wrists, using your own skimpy top. The knot I use isn't the tightest, and if ya struggle hard enough, ya could probably wiggle your wrists free. But I need your arms outta the way for the next couple of minutes and this should suffice. I then lean down, even further, until my lips hover over your ear. "Well sugah, I sure hope ya enjoy being tied up for a change.."
I grin wickedly before I give your lobe a lil' bite, and run my tongue from temple up along your smooth cheek. I then get to my feet, and get to running - vaulting across the ring, bouncing off the opposite ring ropes, coming back at ya at full speed! Half-way through I leap into the air, bringing my boots up so that I can send them crashing down into your exposed tits with a hesitation dropkick!
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This is just too much fun! Eva, with the help of her pesky sidekick Carmen, have been a real thorn in my side for years. The humiliations, the double-teams, the insults and ambushes, this gal has caused me a lot of grief. Until tonight, that is. Now, I finally am gonna repay her for all the trouble she's caused me. And I'm certainly gonna take my time in doing so.
I stare at ya with the look of an alpha cat as she stalks her helpless prey, even crawling on all fours as I glare hungrily at your helpless body. My hesitation dropkick leaves ya bouncing a bit in your precarious state, your legs still remain tangled in the ropes and your sweaty halter top still keeps your hands tied tight behind your back. Ya look absolutely delicious right now. I inch closer to ya, my right hand guiding my sharp claws gently along your shoulder, up along your chest, tracing around the curve of your ample tit. Toying with you now, knowing you're not going anywhere, can't even properly defend yourself. I gaze down at your naked breasts, almost as if I'm admiring them, and indeed, you've got a very nice rack. It's a bit reddened by the stomp of my flying dropkick and it must be throbbing right now. My poor baby Goddess. But that certainly doesn't mar the lusciousness of those fine tits. Real fine targets they make, all exposed and vulnerable and out in the open.
I CLAMP my sharp claws down onto both your nipples, squeezing and twisting them viciously.
By the way, sugah. My breasts are better.
After a few long, agonizing moments of twisting and pinching and tormenting your nips, I finally let go, and SLAP those 36Ds with authority. Loud gasps and shouts of "OHHHHH!" from the crowd ring throughout the Hammerstein as I leave ya a panting, whimpering, squirming mess. I regard ya with a satisfied grin, but the dark stare in my eyes suggest I've only just begun. Now, comes the fun part..
I slide up onto my feet and grab your ankles and begin working ya free from the ropes, untangling ya so your body just collapses onto the canvas. Sure enough, ya drop solidly into the mat, in quite the tenderized heap. I reach down and grab two handfuls of your dark, tousled hair, pulling ya up roughly until you're standing upright. You're still reeling from my nipple twisting/pinching/slapping/dropkicking, so it's easy to control ya and you just sway about in a blank, stunned state. I quickly push your head under the top rope and straighten ya up, readjusting your tied arms so they drape back and over the top rope. The middle rope presses against your waist and I settle in tight behind ya, breathing hotly into your ear. I got ya on display as if you were a trophy - my trophy. And the fans directly facing us burst into heavy applause as they get a real good look at your exposed tits.
With a hand still laced tight in your black shimmering hair, I leans in close until my breasts rub firmly into your upper back. I pull your head back sharply by your dark tresses until it rolls against my shoulder, and I breathe down harder against your ear, purring. "Oh you've been such a naughty...naughty gal... and do ya know what happens to naughty gals?"
I let the question linger in your head before i plant a warm kiss to your cheek. My free hand meanwhile slides up along your thigh, brushing against the fishnet stockings that wrap around it, before it parts from your hip and pulls back, only to SMACK viciously into your slightly upturned ass!
"I think ya have an idea, sugah."
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK!
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Damnit.
This has always been one of my biggest problems: getting too overconfident. Hell, y'all can call it arrogance, too. When things are going my way, I tend to forget all the strategies, all the meticulous planning, and all the 64 back-up plans in case any of my original plans didn't materialize, all of that which I'd come up with long before the actual match would take place. Instead, I'd relish in the moment, taking every opportunity I could muster to rub my superiority in the face of my downed opponent. And in the case of Eva, how could I not spend a lil' extra in humiliating her and making the moment even more miserable for her? I got this, things are going good, nothing could possibly go wrong, so I'm gonna take my time in embarrassing the crap outta this Tramp - except, something does go wrong. A boot, her boot, goes flying like a mule between my legs. That part certainly wasn't in the script.
"NGH."
To say this hurts is a vast understatement. A shot like that is fuckin' destabilizing. I back off of you, hands gingerly holding my throbbing crotch, shudders of pain wracking my doubled over body as my face twists in agony and dismay. I grind my teeth and my eyes just burn a death glare into your gorgeous body - which is now free unfortunately, and is approaching me quick. You've gotten your hands loose from your skimpy top tie, though the sweaty halter still hangs around your right wrist. And ya use those hands to tear my gold and black bustier apart at the top (WHAT THE HELL I REALLY LIKED THAT TOP!), causing my larger, luscious breasts to spill out. The Queen's been exposed. The audience goes wild.
I let out a HOWL of anguish as ya go and claw the hell outta my exposed, vulnerable breasts! My poor, exquisite tits know no mercy from the crazed Goddess as she sinks her sharp nails deeper and harder into em'! I toss my head back and let out a scream, my right hand grabbing at your left wrist in a futile attempt to loosen your grip on my breast, my left hand still between my legs, trying desperately to soothe my throbbing kitty. I stumble and stagger backward until I feel the ring ropes and cage wall at my back, with your claws still latched onto my tits. As I lean back on the ropes, with ya pressing into me, clutching and clawing my breasts with maddening aggression, I lift my head and glare defiantly into your eyes. Stifling a groan, I instead manage the softest of grins through all the searing, intensifying pain, and I breathlessly rasp at ya:
"Yeah.. yours.. are natural... Naturally...inferior..."
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I'm reeling too much to mount a counter, and your claws have sunk so deeply into my breasts that controlling me at this time takes lil' effort. Ya prove this by letting go of my tits for a moment, only to slide in behind me, wrapping me up in your arms. For a moment, I relish the closeness we share, sighing at the press of your ample breasts against my back, moaning softly as your slightly dampened briefs rub anxiously against my shapely ass. Nearly purring as ya whisper in my ear, your voice as soft as a lover's whisper. Instead of growing fearful of your threat, I rub my cheek anxiously against yours, and just melt into ya - maybe I'm slightly delirious from the pain, but this just feels so fucking good right now..
Then, ya grab my boobs again. Hard.
Any kind of pleasure I might have felt for that brief moment erupts in a blast of white-hot pain as ya actually manage to lift me up by my boobs and toss me backward! As I go sailing through the air, my boots kicking wildly, arms flailing about, a loud squeal escaping my gaping mouth, I can't help but think Joey Ryan's nodding his head in approval at the technique you've demonstrated here in this very moment. He'd be so proud of ya, sugah.
"NGHH!"
I collide with the steel cage wall. It hurts like freakin' hell, cause I don't bounce off of it - I just SMASH into the steel, then gravity kinda YANKS me downward and I slide against the wall. That part hurts the worse, it's just one step below having a cheese grater slice up my back. The back of my head even tapped against a metal support bar, throwing me in a loop. The worst however is my landing. I just have the worst luck with landings it seems.. Both of my arms slide over and behind the top rope, and my feet don't land solidly on the canvas. They scrape against the ground, throwing my body into more disarray. All my weight shifts to my upper body as I try to use the top rope to keep me balanced - instead, I just lean back, a lil' too much, over the top rope, as I try to pull my arms up, they inadvertently tangle with the middle rope!
My arms outstretched on either side of me, tangled and tied in the top and middle ropes, my ponytail coming loose so my big platinum blonde hair now cascades wildly around my flustered face, down around my bare shoulders to my waist. My feet slide beneath me, my legs buckle and bend, causing me to kneel despite my arms being tightly bound in the ropes. And my breasts, my large, firm, succulent breasts, reddened and slightly swollen already from this Goddess' vicious clawing, are completely exposed.
-
Gawd damnit.
Now this is a familiar picture: The powerful, vivacious and sensual Platinum Queen, all tied up and at the mercy of her gorgeous rival. It's become somewhat of a cliche. It's almost a given that in any match that I'm in, at some point I'll somehow end up trussed up in some way. My opponent would use something as simple as an article of clothing stripped off of me or herself, or probably a combination of both, to bind me. Or they'd sneak a pair of handcuffs into the match to secure me and render me helpless, or use some rope to hogtie me tight. I've been wrapped up in chains, shackled to ring posts, duct taped, and even been straitjacketed far too many times. I know Eva may call herself this from time to time, but with the amount of times I've been tied up over the course of my long career, I'm more of a Wonder Woman than she is, at least the Golden Age era Wonder Woman. It's really become my thing, like how Ric Flair would always get thrown off the top rope, or how Kurt Angle would pull down his straps before locking in the Ankle Lock, or how Sadie Davis can never win a match without the use of a crowbar. It's become a regular fixture in my matches, and as humiliating as it is, to be tied up and rendered helpless by my rival, I sorta kinda lo--
"Wow, you just love being tied up don't you - Tied Up Tiffany!!!" Eva says, laughing.
I raise my head up and glare hotly at her, my bangs curtaining my narrowed eyes, a bright red hue surfacing on my cheeks. I wanna retort, wanna snap something clever at ya, but the words just die in my throat. No witty comebacks, no sultry threats. I'm still a lil' loopy from being thrown into the cage wall, still catching my breath from having my breasts clawed and groped, still trying to get my bearings together and form some kinda escape plan. And through it all, I just can't ignore the familiar warmth that starts to crawl up from the pit of my stomach to spread all throughout my bound body. Subconsciously, I rub my thick, fishnet-clad thighs together, while straining mightily to escape the ring ropes.
And of course, there are plenty of times when my lovely adversary wouldn't even need restraints to secure me - I could just get wrapped up in the ring ropes. Like right now. The worst thing about getting tied in the ring ropes is how freakin' tight they get the more ya struggle to break free - again, like right now, I thrust and strain to pull my arms free, but the ropes won't budge, they just squeeze down even tighter around my arms, assuring me that I ain't going nowhere. I've been tied up with rope before that would do the same thing - struggle hard and the ropes would get tighter all over. But usually those kinda ropes are softer, smoother, they feel nice when they rub over your skin or tighten around ya. When these ring ropes squeeze down on your arms, they're fuckin' uncomfortable as all hell. If I stay perfectly still it wouldn't sting so bad, but I don't have that luxury at the moment. You're looming over me, taunting me, and from the looks of it you've got some wicked intentions swirling about inside that pretty head of yours..
"Ngh!"
I bite down on my lower lip to stifle a groan as your hands grab the rest of my top and roughly tear it from my body. I shake my head and hiss at ya defiantly, as that's all I can do. Ya succeed in tearing my lycra top right off my torso, exposing my lean, flat stomach and smooth, taut abs. Ya then close in and set to work, grabbing my ankles, hooking my already bent legs around the bottom rope, causing me to wince and groan as ya use my own top to bind my ankles in such a way that my legs are completely and utterly trapped, secured behind me to the middle rope. This is actually a wickedly genius bind you've got me in - I can barely move an inch, if I struggle too hard the ropes will squeeze down on my arms or an unpleasant amount of pressure would burden my knees. Gawd damn ya, you fuckin' sexy bitch.
You take a step back to survey your work, to look over me as it is now your turn to put me on display, your turn to show me off, your turn to torture and torment me in anyway ya want. And there ain't a thing I can do to stop ya. The mere thought of that, of being in your control all over again, it's making me shudder uncontrollably. I'm start to drown in my helplessness, in the searing humiliation. I lower my head, my big platinum blonde hair a disheveled mess, my face flustered, my limbs completely tied. My nipples blatantly, shamefully hard. I blush even harder.
"Tied up perfectly, just like you like... just like a Perfect Little Silk!!!"
I look up again, narrowing my eyes through the curtain of tangled silver blonde hair that sweeps over my face. Then, the faintest of smirks forms on my lips. I lick those smirking lips, then pucker em' up, and blow ya a kiss. The expression on my face darkens, promising ya world of agony and humiliation is waiting in the wings, just for you, my sweet, beautiful Cuban Goddess, once I get free. For now...I'm all yours.
I watch ya take off, blitzing toward the ropes on the far side of the ring, springing off of em' to come back at me, leaping high into the air to hit your own hesitation dropkick. Those boots slice through the air, honing in to collide with my vulnerable, exposed breasts, still throbbing from your earlier attacks. I shut my eyes tight, grit my teeth, and brace for impact--
"NNNNHHH!"
-
Strung up tight with no place to go, and my big, voluptuous breasts acting as two very large, unlikely to miss targets, all I can do is wait for the inevitable. And that "inevitable" is a hesitation dropkick that lands flush on my chest. Ya hit me so hard the wind is knocked right outta me, and the force of your kick sends my bound body swinging back on the ropes to smack against the steel cage wall behind me. I groan loudly, slumping in the ropes, my head hanging low, my breasts throbbing with such wretched, stinging agony. I'm still tightly secured in the ropes, still firmly in your control. An inviting chill shudders down my spine.
Ya start taunting me again, loud enough so all the fans standing front-row can hear ya. Your teasing just adds to my embarrassment and I just continue burning in the humiliation. I try to tune your voice out, as the more ya speak and tease me the more I'm reminded of how powerless I am, but I fail miserably at that. Your taunting words feeds right into my arousal, your sexy accent driving me wild. I bite down on my lower lip and turn my blushing face away, only to gasp and let out a shaky moan as I feel ya standing right above me - with your hands right on my skimpy gold and black booty shorts. More specifically, I feel your fingers roaming over my crotch, teasingly rubbing my moistening lips. Then, ya give my sex a firm squeeze, and I shudder uncontrollably, my breathing deep, hot and heavy. I tilt my head back and my wary, sheepish eyes glare fiercely.. wantonly.. up at ya. My face is twisted with anger, with shame, and blatant arousal. I don't know whether to boil with rage or melt with desire, so I just kneel there silently, tied up and helpless, getting more turned on as ya continue to torture me.
"What were you saying about yours being better?" Ya whisper to me. Your face is so close to mine now. I stare up quietly into your eyes, helpless but defiant. I hate ya so much, Eva, and I want ya so badly right now..
Your hands move up to my bare breasts, still throbbing from your abuse. I feel your fingers spread across my tortured tits and I shiver again. I bite my lower lip once more, breathing in deeply, anticipating the worst.
"They won't be when I am done!!!"
Ya give the worst alright, squeezing my tits so viciously while laughing maniacally in my face. I tilt my head back and let out a scream that rings loudly throughout the cage. I strain against the ropes but they don't let me go and my own top keeps my ankles firmly secured behind me. I'm trapped. I'm yours.
Your fingers, GAWD, they're squeezing my tits so tightly! They're crushing my breasts, claws digging deeper, making me squirm and writhe in my bonds. I tip my head forward in exhaustion, pain just clouding my mind, overwhelming my senses. My big tousled platinum blonde hair brushes against your lips as ya continue to taunt me in that fuckin' sexy voice, and your hands don't stop in wrecking my tits.
"NNnhh..nnnhhhh.."
I'm completely and utterly helpless, once again in your complete and total control. The fans boo the scene, the Goddess torturing her tied up rival, the Platinum Queen. It's an all too familiar scene, one that's played out multiple times in the past - whenever these two collide, the Goddess always manages to capture her gorgeous platinum blonde rival. It's almost maddening how familiar this scene is for me, but I could never beat ya, Eva. You've owned me for years, even if most of the time you've had help from Carmen, I still end up humiliated, bound and defeated. Maybe, this is my fate.. to be tied up and yours forever. To be owned by ya. My body, my soul..my ass.. my tits.. maybe it all belongs to you. Maybe, this is all I'll ever be: your submissive, your personal whippin' gal, your personal bitch.
I kneel there helplessly in the ropes, my screaming voice dulling to a..lusty moan..
"NNnnnhhhmmmmmm..."
And I smirk.
No, sugah.
Now, being a gorgeous Cuban Goddess' personal bitch for the rest of my life does sound pretty fuckin' HOT, and I will admit, being owned by ya for all these years was fuckin' incredibly hot. But that's all gonna change. Sorry baby, I know how much you'd love to keep owning me, but it's 'bout time we changed things up a bit.
That ain't gonna be my fate. Not anymore. Playtime's over, sweetheart. I came here tonight to work, I came here to fight and I came here to win.
"..mmmhheva.." I purr at ya, raising my face to yours. "...you're...gonna need... a, plastic surgeon..for that, nose..."
My soft, whispery words are only heard by ya, and I see a look of confusion cross your beautiful face. I abruptly, surprisingly lean forward, and steal a kiss, pressing my lips HARD against yours. Hungrily, I kiss ya, blocking out the pain of your squeezing hands on my hurting breasts. Gawd, ya taste wonderful. I manage to even slip my tongue into your mouth. It's almost too hard to peel my lips back from the kiss, but I do. I break the kiss, sneak a wolfish grin at ya, then tilt my head back --
AND SNAP MY HEAD FORWARD, HEADBUTTING YOU AS HARD AS I POSSIBLY CAN!
-
I hate headbutts.
I really do. They leave such a bad ringing in my head after I connect with one. I try to limit doing them whenever possible, but when desperate times call ya just gotta give em' head - erm, a headbutt. Anyway!
My vicious headbutt gets Eva off of me for the moment and she staggers back clutching the lower part of her face. Hate to mess up such a pretty face, hell a part of me even hopes my forehead didn't break her nose. Eva could get under my skin sometimes, a lot of times, but I never wanna hurt her THAT badly. Desperate times, though. I lift my wary head to gaze at her from across the ring, seeing her seething in her corner as she growls at me and holds her nose. Doesn't look like it's broken, but that headbutt banged her up pretty good. Good. Now, to get myself untied..
The ref does something useful for a change and helps to untangle the ring ropes from around my arms. I let out a sigh of relief and tumble forward onto the canvas, my hands held out and planting into the mat to prevent me from falling flat on my face, a slight tingling sensation running up my arms as those ropes were really starting to cut into my circulation. I take in some long, deep breaths, looking to regain my senses, to settle the intense throbbing in my head and the stinging burns that well up around my tits. I glance behind me, at my ankles which are both still tied to the middle rope by my own stretched out, ruined top. I turn my whole body around slightly, warily, and start to free both my boots from this makeshift bind. I fear that ya may jump me while my back's turned as I work to free my legs, but it looks like you're too concerned at the moment with your nose, fearing it may be broken.
In a few moments I'm standing up once again, disheveled and hurting, topless with my tits brightly reddened, battered and still throbbing from your torture. My head's aching, my body's already sore, but all those aches and pains seem distant now that I'm free and back on my feet. My big hair's a tousled mess, many long wild strands brushing across my flustered face, but I take what remains of my tattered bustier and use it to tie my platinum mane back into a tight ponytail. That fire that burned so brightly before you tied me up rekindles again in my sheepish eyes, and I stare coldly at you with such a piercing glare it suddenly feels like the temperature dropped by a few degrees.
"Sugah, I ain't no slut," I purr at ya, lowering my arms from my hair, moving toward ya with a brisk, determined pace. The level of noise in the Ballroom from the crowds rises quickly as I get closer. "And I ain't your bitch anymore, either!"
With that, I pump my legs like pistons, charging at ya quickly, aiming to slam my right forearm into the side of your face!
-
The forearm shot drills ya right in the side of your head, causing ya to snap your face to the side and stagger back into the corner. As if your nose wasn't already bothering ya, now you've most likely got to contend with a ringing in your head from that stiff shot. Your bare 36Ds jiggle a bit as ya slump back against the turnbuckles in the corner, your arms draped over the top ring ropes, seemingly the only thing that's keeping ya upright at the moment. Poor lil' Goddess is in for it now - and I've only hit ya with a warm-up shot.
Just as ya slump into the turnbuckles, I charge in after ya at full speed, spinning around to crush ya against the corner! I turn just as we collide to slam my back into your ample chest, my right elbow also swinging up at the same instance to smash into your face! I put all my weight into that corner splash/back elbow that I even bounce off of your body upon impact, taking a step or two forward while you're reeling heavy against the padding. Then, in one smooth motion, I jump up - spinning to my left, both feet leaving the canvas, my right leg swinging in a wide arc to slice through the air so my right boot can kick ya stiffly on the back of your head! The fans erupt with an "OOOOOHHHH!" as my CCS Enzuigiri rocks ya hard!
-
Once again, your round ass, tightly embraced by those skimpy leather briefs, sticks up in the air as ya collapse to the mat in a hot wrecked heap. I slowly and calmly slide up to my feet, staring at your upturned bottom as it wiggles a bit due to the spasms that shudder throughout your body. I grin darkly, running a hand along those curvy cheeks, taking in how smooth your backside feels. Then, my palm SLAPS your left cheek so stingingly hard a loud SMACK erupts from within the cage! The sound of the smack was almost as loud as the kick to the back of your head, and the fans cheer wildly. That same hand travels along the length of your body to sink into your dark, sweaty hair.
"C'mon, sugah, it's time I took ya for a walk.." I purr down at ya as I begin to saunter to the center of the ring, pulling ya along by your hair, making ya crawl beside me on all-fours. You're too stunned and wary to resist and ya pad along beside me on your hands and knees, trying to keep up as I tug ya along. Laughter and whistles can be heard from the raucous crowds as I mockingly walk ya around.
Once in the middle of the ring, I drag ya up onto your feet using only your hair, your whole body swaying beside me in loose lil' circles, looking as if you're on the losing side of the final round in a Mortal Kombat game. Don't worry sweetheart, ya won't be on your feet for long. I step in front of ya keeping my grip on your hair intact, my arm wrapped across my throat and reaching over my shoulder to maintain that grip. I can feel your forehead resting against the back of my shoulder and I lace my free hand into your tousled hair as well, getting a real firm grip on ya. Then, I drop to one knee. Simultaneous, I snap both my arms forward, hands dragging HARD on your hair, pulling ya over my shoulder and flipping ya into the mat with a "Hairmare" takeover. Ya land firmly on your butt, in a seated position, big bare breasts jiggling as ya land, still quite out of it as ya sit there and look dazedly ahead at the ring ropes and cage wall ten feet away in front of ya. I let go of your hair, straighten up, and quickly hop over your head, running toward those ropes.
The fans start to "OOOHHH" again as I bounce off of the ropes and dash back toward ya. About five feet away from my seated Goddess, I jump into the air, my body turning at an angle until the left side of my flying figure is parallel with the canvas. My right arm, sheathed in black, is cocked all the way behind me as I fly down toward ya at a breakneck pace, my ponytail whipping about behind me in the air, right hand balled into a tight fist, eyes locked onto those 36D tits. I snap my right arm forward just as I collide with ya, smashing my forearm right into those big, already battered, bare breasts!
-
"Hmmmm...Legs spread and flat on your back," I purr down at ya as I circle around your prone body, hand on my hip, looking relaxed and confident as ever. I crouch down beside your head, tilting my own as I gaze thoughtfully at your flustered, stunned face, offering ya a teasing grin. "Seems like the usual position for ya, doesn't it, sugah?"
My eyes drift down your luscious body, drinking in your dazed state. Your ragged breathing causes those lovely tits to rise and fall, they're red by my constant strikes and a lil' swollen from the beating I've dished out. I notice your briefs have ridden up considerably on your smooth, shapely hips, the dark leather must be wedged tight between your ass cheeks by now. Your fishnet clad legs are spread temptingly, as they often are. I turn my face back to glance down at your head, the ref hovering about moving into position as if I'm gonna pin ya. I smirk to myself. That'll be too easy.
Let's have some fun first..
In a moment you're on your front courtesy of my boot nudging into your side, causing ya to roll over. With your back and that gorgeous ass now pointing up at me, I step over ya until both my boots are planted on either side of your hips. I lick my lips slowly, then crouch down. My own shapely ass bounces atop your bubble butt and I just sit there for a moment. You do make a comfy seat. I reach forward and my fingers sink into the tangle of your dark, sweaty hair, and I YANK your head up off the mat, pulling back on your tousled tresses. I slide my ass up along your lower back now, still clutching your hair and pulling on it until your upper body is peeled off the canvas. I quickly scoop up your left arm and place it over my left thigh, releasing your hair to do the same with your right arm. With both your arms now curved haplessly over my thick thighs, I settle my backside even deeper against your lower back, wiggling my hips to plant myself more firmly over ya. I grab your hair again and with a rough TUG I force your head back, causing ya to THRUST those redden but still lush tits out to the rowdy audience. They cheer and holler in turn, eagerly showing their appreciation. Your back is bent at a bad angle as I continue to sit on top of ya, both your arms useless now as they remain locked over my toned, fishnet-clad thighs. I laugh, and lean forward a bit so I can whisper into your ear.
"Look at all your fans, Goddess.." I purr with a sly grin forming on my lips, "you're givin' em' quite a show.."
My right hand leaves your tousled tresses and moves along your shoulder, down over your chest, to gently cup your right tit. Teasingly gentle with my grip, I hold your lush, heavy tit in my right hand, fingers anxiously caressing the smooth underside with care and affection. You aren't expecting such tenderness, especially since I've spent the past 15 minutes pounding the hell outta your beautiful breasts. But even my rivals deserve a little bit of pleasure from all the pain I give em'. My left hand slowly crawls over your shoulder as well and does the exact same thing with your left breast. In mere moments, both my hands begin a sensuous caress of your fine, ample tits, and I spend a few more moments just fondling and caressing your 36Ds. Ya really do have I kiss ya on the back of your head, then turn my face to press my cheek against yours.
"But I think.. you can give em' an even better performance.."
My hands suddenly become Rusev, and my mind might as well be Lana. And the Ravishing Russian is screaming to CRUSH. My hands do just that - fingers clamping down and squeezing at your breasts, palms mashing into your nips, sharp nails biting into your smooth, reddened, curvy flesh, raking and scratching madly, sinking in deep as I ravage your perfect 36Ds. I keep my face pressed up against the side of your face as I start to feel that electric agony just shudder through ya. And as I wreck those lush tits of yours, all the while my lower regions begin a sensuous, slow grind against your lower back.
As I crush those tits and grind my crotch into your distorted back, I glance up at the ref, who's staring gawk-eyed and slack jawed at us. It's as if he's never seen a hot platinum blonde trap a gorgeous Cuban Goddess in a Camel Boob Clutch before. I roll my eyes and sigh.
"Not gonna ask her if she quits or not, darlin'?" I call out to him as he's obviously preoccupied by the sight of the tormented Eva to do his job properly. I think he may have a crush on ya, Eva..
"That's fine by me. I can do this all night.."
-
I may very well end up going deaf by the end of this match. But gawd, hearing ya scream like that is a definite turn-on. You refuse to submit as my fingers continue to crush your tits, and I merely chuckle at that crazed, fiery defiance. I lean in close to your ear again, and purr warmly, "I really wasn't expectin' ya to give up, sugah. Not yet, at least."
With that, I plant my lips to your temple, and kiss ya there firmly for a brief moment.
One last tight squeeze, just to get ya to scream a lil' louder. Then, my fingers finally lighten their grip on both your succulent breasts. My hands travel downward and lock together just underneath your ample chest as I rise up, abruptly, from sitting on your lower back. Your arms fall from my around my once curled legs to hang uselessly by your sides as I start to stand up, muscling ya up to your feet, holding ya in a reverse waist-lock. You're mostly deadweight right now as you're still reeling from the Camel Clutch, swaying a bit on wobbly legs with me being the only thing that's keeping ya upright. For the moment, that is.
I quickly duck my head underneath your left arm and I instantly feel your weight lean down over the back of my neck. My left hand slides under your left thigh, right arm curling around your waist from behind to grip your right hip, and after taking a deep breath, I lift ya high into the air.
Your body goes horizontal for a second as I hoist ya up, balancing ya over my right shoulder, your fishnet-sheathed legs kicking out and hovering about six feet above the canvas. I could go for a crisp Belly-to-Back Suplex at this point, or, and this may be a lil' tricky, I could flip ya completely over my shoulder and plant ya face first into the canvas with a Reverse Exploder.
Instead of going for either move, I go Phenomenal. I quickly pull down on your left thigh with my left hand, right arm now hooking around your right thigh. And at that very moment, I whip your body forward, off of my shoulder, both your legs swinging around until your calves rush up underneath both my arms. At the same time, in one smooth motion, I sit down on the canvas, and I slam ya viciously, face/chest first, right into the canvas between my spread fishnet-clad legs!
Some call the move a Belly-to-Back Gordbuster, others a Sitdown Facebuster. Me? I just call it Whiplash.
-
I land solidly onto the mat - silver ponytail flailing about behind my head, teeth gritted tight, 38Ds bouncing wildly. I've even moved my right palm so that it pushes down on that curvy ass, giving ya an extra shove into the mat as I slam ya with authority. And gawd damn, the way your body reacts to the Whiplash is a thing of beauty.
The impact of your breasts slamming into the canvas between my legs is so hard, you're sprung into the air following that collision by at least a few feet! I watch as gravity drags ya back down to the mat, and ya collapse onto the canvas in a hot sweaty heap, spread-eagle, flat on your back, and completely stunned. The fans are still "AWWOOOHHH"ing as you're all laid out in front of me in the perfect pinning predicament, except, I don't wanna pin ya just yet - I wanna punish ya some more.
[Through the mesh of the cage wall, the camera focuses in on Tiffany's bare, toned back. Her back fills up the left portion of the screen as she sits there in the middle of the ring, her platinum blonde mane, tied into a ponytail by the remains of her black/gold lycra bustier, forms a wavy trail that runs down between her shoulder blades. Her shoulders rise and fall with every breath, her head bowed low as she takes a few seconds to contemplate her next course of action. Then, her head tilts up, and her taut, golden skin and silver platinum hair blurs. To the right of the screen, the corner turnbuckles which face her from across the ring, come into sharp focus. The Platinum Queen starts to get up.]
"C'mon, Goddess.." I coo down at ya, sliding up to my feet as I take a few steps beside your prone, semi-conscious body. I reach down and grab a handful of unkempt hair and muscle ya up to your feet. You are so groggy right now, it's getting easier to bully ya around.
I shove ya back, HARD, into the turnbuckles, smirking as I watch your breasts jiggle about. The hard slam into the pads seems to have woken ya up a bit as ya groan loudly and start to stir in the corner, but I figure you're too stunned and hurt to really mount a counterattack right now. I quickly bend forward and press my shoulder into your tummy, grabbing hold of your legs, lifting ya up with one mighty lift until you're seated on the top rope. I take a half-step back and look up at ya--
-
-- and your BOOT rushes into my face, smacking into my forehead! My head snaps back, eyes shutting tight, teeth grinding hard, wincing all over as your sudden surprise kick sends me stumbling back a few steps. I rub my forehead and nose, startled that ya had any fight left in ya. Sure enough, ya prove that ya do got some left in the tank, as I hear ya screaming at me from the top. Your voice rings loudly throughout the cage, catching my attention easily as I turn back to glare up at ya, hands still rubbing my scowling face. Some fight? Try plenty, you're now fully upright on the top rope, perched on the turnbuckles, ready to fly.
And ya take flight, leaping recklessly into the air, your hot battered body outstretched and tilting at an angle. Those luscious bare tits and flat tummy advancing on me at full speed. You're ready to flatten me with that crossbody block - and I'm ready to catch ya. My eyes narrow darkly, hands lowered from my stinging, flustered face. I raise my arms into position, watching ya fly closer and closer to me as I brace for your sexy body to collide with mine while also figuring my timing out. She's a second away from colliding with me, and in that second, I take a step back.
And catch her.
Rather then her crashing full-force into me, having taken a step back took a whole foot away from her momentum. Her body instead bumps against my bare chest, my arms catching her readily, my legs planting firmly into the canvas to maintain my balance. I remain standing, with a sexy yet wearied Cuban Tramp Goddess hanging sideways in my arms. The fans let out a cheer, applauding the catch, many actually laughing at your futile attempt to bounce back into this match. I readjust my grip on ya, sliding my left arm between your legs to hook your left thigh tight, my left hand lewdly clutching an asscheek. My right arm curved around your neck, fingers spread into your upper back, pressing our bare upper bodies closely together. My arms flex as they curl around either side of your dangling body, my lush breasts rubbing anxiously against your tummy and the undersides of those 36Ds, my lips curving into a mighty wide grin. I got ya now and ya ain't going nowhere, sweetheart. Well, not yet at least. I start to saunter around the ring, carrying ya like this.
[The camera follows Tiffany as she sashays about the caged ring while carrying Eva in her arms. She takes a lap around the ring as the fans cheer loudly, before she stands in the center, directly facing the camera now. While her left hand grips those patent leather briefs, her right arm sorta goes slack, hanging loosely by her side for a moment. A smug half-grin appears on her lips as she glances down at Eva, then up at the noisy crowd, as if to ask "is this Tramp for real?" The Platinum Queen winks at the camera. Then, her right arm slides back into place under Eva's neck, and in one swift motion, Tiffany hoists Eva up into the air - turning her body around so her tummy rests across her left shoulder, legs dangling behind her, head pointed forward. But that's only for the briefest of moments - because just as Eva's stomach lands on her shoulder, Tiffany DROPS down to the mat and SNAPS Eva forward, SLAMMING her remorselessly into the canvas! The ring shudders upon impact, a sound close to clashing thunder reverberates throughout the Ballroom, and even the camera jolts as it watches the Queen deliver that punishing Powerslam!]
-
The Powerslam leaves ya splayed out, spread-eagled and spasming for a few long seconds. Your hot battered body probably dented the canvas. I kneel over ya for a moment, catching my breath and amusing myself by watching those big tits of yours jiggle from your spasms. Brushing back my tousled platinum mane over my bare shoulder, I shuffle along your side and lay down on top of ya. I reach for your left thigh, fingers locking around it as I pull back on your limp leg. I roll a bit over on top of ya and hook your leg tight as the ref slides into position to count the pin.
"ONE!"
-
"TWO!!"
I arch a brow as ya manage to get a shoulder up to break up the count at two (Sweeeet!). I let go of your leg, hearing it just crumble to the mat, and I kinda just sit there, leaning against your half-turned body, your tummy cushioning my lower back. I glance over at the ref who's holding up two fingers to me. I'm looking a lil' impressed that ya managed to get that shoulder up, but nevertheless I nod my head and pull myself to my feet.
"And here I thought ya had enough of me whippin' your ass," I sigh softly as I rise to my feet, looking fresh and rejuvenated, while you still lay at my feet, resembling a fly splattered across some speeding driver's windshield. "Well sugah, I've only just begun with ya.."
I reach down for that tangled damp mess of hair and haul your dead weight up to your knees. I get ya kneeling in front of me, and the satisfaction I feel as I tower above ya is tremendous. I have you now, Eva. I stand above ya, a hand tightly gripping your hair to keep ya upright on your knees, looking real confident that I have the Goddess all wrapped up and ready to be put away for the evening. But why rush things? Like I said earlier, I wanna take my time with this delicious Tramp, and really punish her for all the grief she's caused me.
With my legs slightly spread and planted firmly on the canvas, and my other hand tightly clutching her hair, I take my free hand and bring it to my mouth. My tongue peeks out from my mouth,
and I slowly lick my palm until it's nice and wet and shiny. I extend my arm up back with a wicked grin, ready to smack the taste outta this Cuban Goddess' mouth--
-
And everything seemed to be going so well...
"!!!!!"
--I don't even make a sound. My face just freezes, eyes bulging, mouth shaped like a big 'O'. An explosion of white hot pain erupts in my nether regions, and it ripples to every inch of my suddenly tensed up body. The color in my face drains and my hands quickly shoot down to my throbbing sex, which ya perfectly struck, tiny lil' shudders wracking my buxom frame as I just stand there frozen in shock and agony. I barely even notice your fingers curling around my wrist, your other hand tightening around my shoulder. I feel my feet peddling on their own as I'm sent running into the corner, courtesy of your forceful Irish Whip. I turn at the very last moment and slam violently into the turnbuckles, my body bucking against the pads, a gust of air erupting volcanically from my gaping mouth. The impact was hard enough to shake the corner and rattle this portion of the cage, and more than a few fans would have gasped at the viciousness of that impact had they not been so busy gawking at my bountiful bare breasts jiggling about wildly. I slump back into the corner, arms hooking over the top ropes to keep me upright, my crotch stinging so madly that all I could do at the moment is take big, deep breaths and breathe through the pain. Maybe Eva will be too banged up to follow up and I'll have enough time to recover and oh fuckin' hell for the love of-
"UGHHHHMMMPHHH!"
Now, normally, I'm not opposed to having a pair of lush 36Ds shoved into my face. I've paid a real nice gal at the Crazy Horse back home to do just that to me with her own lovely 36Ds, enough times that I've probably got her through Law School. Or was it Med School? In any case, this is not the time or place to enjoy another woman's delectable bosom, especially since that other woman's using her big tits as twin battering rams to slam into and smother my face! It's a tad bit, distressing, though, I really can't deny that as ya continue to rub your breasts all over my face, my nipples have gotten pretty damn hard-ANYWAY. I let out a moan that's muffled by your ample chest as the rest of your body just crushes me into the corner, and your titanic leaping splash knocks the wind right outta me. And suddenly, the Goddess is back in this fight.
Hoo-rah.
My face remains trapped between your breasts and my body is firmly pinned by yours, and again, under different circumstances I wouldn't even entertain the thought of throwing your hot body off of me if ya got on top of me like how y'are right now. But since you're cutting off my oxygen while making me feel like I'm being squashed inside a trash compactor, the only thought that's runnin' through my mind is I really wanna throw your fucking hot body the fuck off of me.
'Cept I can't, at least, not right now. I'm still aching bad between my legs, my back's now hurting a ton, and I got lil' to no air coming my way as ya smother those heavenly tits all over my face and flatten my body against the turnbuckles. I squirm and writhe against ya and even manage a few blind scant slaps at your shoulders and arms, but it's all a futile effort. I can't breathe, can't move, can't fight back properly, can't even think straight cause I'm hurting all over.
Everything absolutely was going so well..
-
I'm drowning in your tits. They're all over my face and I haven't got the strength to shove ya off of me. I can barely even move to get enough leverage so I can at least fuckin' breathe. But that's the point afterall. Ya want me in this position, weakened, hurting, sapped of strength, drained of energy, robbed of air. I can barely see the lights of the Ballroom anymore, they peek out in tiny blots and thin lines of white from the edges of the curvy smooth darkness that presses against my face. The ring starts to feel like it's moving beneath my feet, I'm sinking a lil' deeper against the turnbuckles, head's becoming a lil' lighter. It's getting really hard to breathe--
--but Candy pulls back and smiles that lusty grin of hers, her crimson pigtails wavering under the dim lights of the private VIP room. I'm breathing hard, or at least trying to catch my breath as she spent a good minute or two smothering her naked breasts all over my face. Leaving me sitting there, flustered and aroused. Not just sitting - she's tied me up to the chair, shoved a big pink ball-gag into my mouth, and she's seated comfortably, sexily, on top of my lap. Just another typical Thursday visit. "Want another go, honey?" she purrs at me in that sweet, sensuous voice of hers. I nod eagerly, and she chuckles softly before she leans in tight again - those immaculate 36Ds closing in once more--
--until finally ya pull back, and the present day world chases that lovely hot memory away. And I'm left gasping wildly for air, sucking in as much oxygen as I can before I feel your hands on my shoulders, almost effortlessly shoving me down onto the canvas. I don't even fight back, I just sink onto the ground, too concerned with struggling to breathe, feeling all numb and tingly all over. Every thing feels so.. outta place, but in a strange way, calming. Distressful, but contenting. Whatever aches and pains were affecting me seemed to be in a far off place, not quite in a galaxy far, far away, but still pretty distant. No pain right now, no hurting. Just this numbing feeling that's making my head spin. I can't get my body to function properly, so I just sit here. And the next few moments are like a wonderful, waking coma, as if I'm navigating aimlessly through some shifting, spinning, warm and water-painted dreamscape. My wavering mind starts to wander, drifting away from the match, and into things that I want. I want, to shut down, to blank out, to fade away, and classify myself as Unavailable At the Moment. I want chocolate, or Gal Gadot. I want to go back to that wild party at the Chateau in Vegas with my Silks - we partied with Margot Robbie that night, I absolutely want her. I want to lay on some sandy sun-kissed beach somewhere hot and tropical, doing nothing but listen to the cerulean waves crawl lazily over the shoreline and tequila shots with Absolution and Liv Morgan all day long. I want to put Lisa Starr in a Camel Clutch, and Emily Layne in the Platinum Lock. I want that three-way dance with Ricochet and Mundo. I want to study Sadie in a lab. I want to do Yoga in an overwater shala in the Maldives. I want to see Red's face without the mask. I want to spank The California Doll. I want to drop an elbow across the galaxy with the Macho Man, fight dragons with King Tonga, get drunk with Tama, Fale, Princu Devittooo and the rest of Bullet Club in Osaka, fight Asuka forever, get hogtied by Rowan Chance, moonsault with the Golden Lovers, walk with Elias. I want Punky.
I want to beat Eva, I wanna whip her ass for all the humiliation and grief she's caused me over the years. For the humiliation she's causing me now. I want to make out with her, I want a Taste of Cuba - wait, what? Hold on. I want to beat her, first and foremost. I need to get my damn shit together though, above all else. I blink my eyes and start to come around, shaking the cobwebs off, clearing my cluttered, hazy mind. Well, trying to clear it. It's hard to focus, I can barely hear my own thoughts it's so damn loud in here all of a sudden. The fans are cheering, no, they're chanting loudly, wildly, chanting something, three words --
SHIT.
I snap my head up just in time to see your black patent leather briefs fly right into my face. Your barely, thinly covered sex smacks me right in the face and I let out a muffled moan right into your crotch. Exactly like your smothering breasts from only a few moments ago, your veiled crotch completely blocks my vision as it rubs unyieldingly, almost lustily, over my flustered, blushing face. I can fuckin' taste ya Eva, through your fuckin' leather briefs. That's how hard you're rubbing your gawd damn crotch into my face, while bouncing on my bare, abused tits. And much like with your breasts, I find myself torn between wanting to resist this lewd, perverse humiliation and, well, simply wanting ya to continue this lewd, perverse humiliation.
I sorta don't have any choice really but to, um, "endure" this devastating maneuver..so..mmh..
Ya buck fast and rub your crotch hard over my chest and face, and for a few very long moments, ya just ride me, flattening my tits with every bounce of your pretty ass over my bosom. The bouncing is punching me deeper into the canvas, drilling me harder into the bottom turnbuckle, and I'm completely helpless to do anything but take your Taste of Cuba. It's not like the move is causing that much damage, but it's certainly riling me up in another way.. Finally, mercilessly ya start to slow your pace, until your savory ass bounces one last time, making me breathe hotly, heavily, against your crotch. Ya slide your crotch firmly against my reddened face as slowly as ya possibly can, leaving me groaning and with the scent of leather and your sex in your wake. And I do everything I possibly can to keep my tongue inside my mouth, resisting the shameful urge to just start lapping at your briefs.. I prevail, just barely - you've given me that Taste of Cuba and now I just wanna devour the whole country.
I blink my weary eyes and shake my head, again desperately attempting to catch my breath and get back into the fight. Then, the sound of your hands slapping your own ass rings in my ears, and I warily manage to raise my head, and my eyes widen as I see the Cuban flag staring right at me. A Cuban flag, on a thong, which is worn on a very shapely, very curvy, very biteable ass. You've pulled down your briefs, and you're bent over in front of me now, and you're stepping back, ever so slowly. I don't even try to resist at this point - I'm too tired, too hurt, and too fuckin' turned on to even think about that. At this point, I just close my eyes, and curl my arms around the middle rope, and wait for the Main Course..
"MMmmpphhhhhh..."
-
That spankable, biteable, delectable ass keeps rubbing all across my face, and I just sit there in a disheveled heap, looking like a hot, steamy mess as you have your wicked ways with me. And I'm allowing ya to. It ain't cause I'm too tired from being put through the ringer that I can no longer defend myself against ya. And it ain't cause secretly, shamefully, deep down I'm getting so hopelessly turned on by ya degrading me like this. No, the reason I'm not resisting, not fighting back, not even lifting so much as a finger to stop the Goddess from humiliating me, is because this is a move that lets me catch my breath.
A move like the "Main Course" can go two ways. It can break ya down, it can make ya feel insignificant, embarrassed, humiliated. Even if it's not particularly damaging in a physical way, it can still mess with your head cause it'll show ya just how weak and helpless you've become. Your bitch of an opponent is grinding her ass all over your face and you can't do ANYTHING to stop her? Yeah, sorry kiddo, but ya belong to HER now if the gal can pull this kinda move on ya.
But on the flipside, a move like this can really piss a woman off. And the longer that pissed off woman is trapped in this move, trapped against those grinding asscheeks, trapped and burning with sheer humiliation, the more time is given to her to recover. And that seething anger that that woman is certainly feeling will only help speed up that recovery. No matter how humiliating it may get for her, they get focused right away in that moment. Anger outweighs humiliation in this instance, and some women can get real fuckin' angry all cause of a move like this.
Full disclosure: I am not real fuckin' angry, I'm real fuckin' aroused.
Regardless, you grinding that thick, beautiful ass all over my face, as embarrassing as it may be, it has also given me plenty of time to rest and recover. And by the time you've peeled your butt off of my flushed face, I'm all rested and recovered. I've caught my breath and the ring stopped spinning. Any throbbing, stinging pains that you've inflicted on my body are but a dull ache at this point. Head's cleared, Fighting Spirit's all charged up. Sorry 'bout that lil' break, kiddos, but we're back now. And it's clobberin' time.
[The camera zooms in on Eva's enticing body as she does her little dance, her shapely hips swaying rhythmically, almost hypnotically, attracting all eyes to her. It captures every single shake of her shapely smooth ass, every turn of her hips, every tempting grind of her luscious figure. The camera stays on her completely, watching as she's left her busty, platinum-haired foe disposed of in the corner, confident that she's not going anywhere anytime soon, and just to taunt her longtime rival she dances sinfully in the center of the ring. Most fans cheer her on, others boo her ferociously as she's thoroughly degraded and humiliated their Queen. Those boos seem to distract Eva quite a bit, and she stomps off to the side of the caged ring to yell at them through the steel mesh.]
[Just then, a WAVE of cheers rise up from the crowd.]
[Eva hardly pays much attention to that though, instead she's raving madly at the fans at ringside. She's yelling at them for having the audacity to boo her, barely noticing that Tiffany has gripped the top rope with both hands and has pulled herself up to her feet and outta the corner! She's glaring fiercely at Eva from behind, who's back is completely turned to her and is still caught up with yelling at the ringside fans. Tiffany looks a bit worse for wear, her big platinum/silver blonde hair is tousled about but remains in its ponytail, her big bare breasts covered in red markings, her face agitated, blushing red. She may be a bit of a hot mess, but she certainly looks ready to rejoin the fight. Her lips curve into a smirk, while her eyes remain fierce, focused, and menacing. She licks those glossy smirking lips and steps forward, the cheers from the crowd reaching a fever pitch!]
[Eva FINALLY notices the volume of cheers has risen greatly, since she probably figured those cheers aren't for her. And she slowly, cautiously turns around to see what everyone's cheering about. The Platinum Queen charges at full speed, her right sheathed arm snapping up to BEHEAD the Cuban Goddess with one HELLACIOUS RUNNING LARIAT!]
-
That Lariat was a Rainmaker. It's a Lariat that came from Hell. Not quite as straight-up murderous as Stan Hansen's lariats, but definitely on a Nigel McGuinness-level. My arm just rips into your chest, sending ya spiralling chaotically into the stratosphere. The cheers from the fans turn to gasps as they witness your luscious form become this spinning ball of flailing limbs and jiggling boobs, but the moment ya crash land into the canvas their gasps quickly become thunderous cheers!
[The camera closes in on Tiffany coming down off the lariat. She slides onto one knee, hunched forward, platinum ponytail whipping around her crouched body. Her attacking arm swings 'round her front so that she could rest her fist down onto the canvas before her and steadies herself. Her other arm hangs high up in the air behind her head. The camera stays on her for a moment--]
Okay, so I may not be the best at landing after pulling an aerial..HOWEVER! I can certainly do a damn good Superhero Landing when I want to.
[--and just over Tiff's extended arm, the camera spots gravity YANKING Eva's twisting body down into the canvas, the mat shuddering loudly upon impact! She lands hard on her chest, but bounces up and flops over onto her back before she just lays there, motionless, arms and legs spread wide, a dazed Cuban heap. Just beyond that, blurred somewhat in the far background, the ref watches in awe of this spectacular car wreck, but is quickly startled as Eva's black leather briefs have somehow whipped off of her legs and go sailing through the air before they're caught in his grubby hands. The Platinum Queen lowers her arm and glances coldly over her shoulder, arching a brow at her fallen rival as the fans go wild.]
"Yeeeesh.." I sigh as I look down at ya. You've definitely seen better days, sugah. In fact, almost every time we've met in a ring or in some kinda encounter, you've ALWAYS had the better day. Flashes of all those humiliating, embarrassing...utterly arousing and exhilarating... times ya tied me up and owned me start to rush through my head, and I play each feverish memory out, one by one, until goosebumps crawl over my skin and my nipples harden to become as stiff as bullets. Yeah, as much as I hated being owned by ya, Eva.. I loved every single, shameful, sinful moment of it, too, ya gorgeous bitch. Tonight though, tonight ain't 'bout that. Tonight's not about indulging in my fetishistic fantasies of bondage and domination. Tonight's not about me getting owned. That's happened too often, and people are starting to write me off as this old yet really smokin' hot jobber that everyone ties up and humiliates and fucks all night long after a hard-hitting match. I can't deny that losing feels good sometimes, most of the time. Being owned and tied up and dominated in a wrestling ring, in a hotel room, in some private wherever, it's fuckin' orgasmic. But, no, that ain't all I'm about, that isn't all that I am. I'm more than just that. I'm a competitor, I'm a fighter, I'm a professional wrestler, and a gawd damn good one at that. Most everyone seemed to have forgotten that, a lot of bookers across the wrestling scene, a lot of managers and agents more interested in using me for their next fetish DVD project or erotic iPPV streaming event. I'll always have my faithful fanbase, but there's plenty of fans that don't think much of me anymore as well. And, I hate to think like this, but lately I feel most of my peers think that way about me, too.
Well, fuck y'all. I'ma 'bout to show y'all - remind you all - exactly how fuckin' great I am.
[The hard camera follows Tiffany now getting up to her feet, nudging Eva over onto her stomach once again by the toe of her boot. The Goddess rolls over, slumping unresistingly onto her front. Completely deadweight. Tiff stands at her head now, her boots on either side of the woman's temples. She takes a deep breath and bends over quickly, going all the way down until she loops her arms around and beneath Eva's waist, and locks her wrists tight just under her belly. Flexing her arms, Tiffany begins to straighten up, LIFTING Eva's deadweight body right up off the canvas!]
[The Hammerstein crowd ROARS as they witness Tiffany hoist Eva up off the mat, looking to go for a Deadlift Powerbomb. The camera zooms on the Goddess as her legs flop over Tiffany's shoulders, dangling behind her upper back. Tiff however doesn't slam her just yet - she keeps her up in this position, Eva slumped and sitting on her tall, busty blonde rival's shoulders. The Goddess just sits there, unmoving, completely stunned, at least six feet above the ring, with the fans cheering and hollering reaching a fever pitch, and then, Tiffany starts to move.]
[The crowd GASPS as Tiffany runs to the CAGE WALL and SLAMS Eva's back into it! The sound of Eva's back smacking into the steel mesh echoes loudly throughout the ring! But, Tiffany isn't done yet - she holds onto Eva's thighs! She keeps her squarely atop her shoulders, displaying her impressive strength and balance as she takes a step back. Then, in one smooth motion, Tiffany SPINS around to face the ring, only to DROP down onto her knees, SNAPPING Eva off of her shoulders! Another roar erupts from the fans as the Platinum Queen DRILLS the Goddess right into the canvas with a KNEELING POWERBOMB!]
-
The crowd at the Hammerstein isn't a quiet one. It never is. People who show up to wrestling at the Hammerstein are genetically incapable of being fucking quiet. This is GOD-DAMN NEW YORK, BABY, and while I might be a West Coast girl with my spiritual home in fuckin' Philly, I gotta lotta love for New York, even full of shit and itself as it is. And this crowd is on FIRE, especially the contingent that seems to be able to come up with quick little chants each and every time Eva does anything. I swear to god, her fans (and the haters that follow her just to chant at her) have a more rigid set of callback lines than a fucking Rocky Horror Picture Show Crowd.
But there's one sound that goes over ALL of them, over all the catcalls and wolf-whistles and chants and roars and cheers and gasps, one sound the rips over the Hammerstein like a fucking CHAINSAW when Tiffany unleashes the god-damn Rainmaker and then busts out a fucking one-woman Supercollider Powerbomb. And that's me, bitches, fucking yelling all the way across the god-damn ballroom from my front row seat where I'm six beers deep, with two chairs emptied on either side of me by my violent cheers and protests, thrashing my steel-skull cane against the railing with a relentless fury.
"YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY-BEH! DRILL THAT FUCKING BITCH!"
-
The HOLY SHIT chants and echoing groans of the rabid crowds ring loudly throughout the Ballroom following that devastating cage-assisted kneeling Supercollider Powerbomb. But one sound cuts through all that noise like a burning chainsaw through butter, a voice so powerful and commanding ya just can't help but stop what you're doing and look over in that mad siren's direction. I look over, as I kneel in the center of the ring, Eva currently laid out in front of me doing her best impression of a folded up accordion, my stern face softening, unable to stop the grin from forming on my lips. The sound of her steel cane slamming violently into the guardrail accompanies her earsplitting hollers, and I get all warm and tingly just knowing she's got a front row seat watching me dismantle a longtime rival, screaming encouragement at the top of her lungs. Gawd I love that gal.
"Ooh, yes ma'am.."
I pucker my lips and blow Punky a kiss, before I turn my gaze back onto Eva. My, what a lovely sight. She's folded up into a pitiful ball, legs tossed so far back that her toes are touching the canvas just above her head. Arms splayed out, all her weight resting on her upper back, head and neck. Her crotch nearly presses into her own flustered face, that Cuba-themed thong nearly disappearing between her juicy lips. For a long moment, I just stare at your shapely round ass, sticking up for me as you're rolled up in such an exposing manner. I lick my lips and slide up to my feet, SLAPPING an asscheek viciously hard along the way, the stinging sound of my palm smacking against your firm, curvy flesh ringing out nearly as loudly as Megan's ringside hollerin'. I get to my feet and reach all the way down to grab your hair once again, pulling ya up roughly to your own own wobbly feet.
It takes a bit of effort to lift ya to your own feet, seeing as how your legs are made of rubber right now and there ain't a coherent thought running through your head at the moment. Your whole body is limp weight, and you're shifting about constantly. You're obviously feeling the rattling effects of the Supercollider, so you're not gonna be able to put up much of a fight. Like some sexy marionette (do those even exist?) I could make ya do a lil' dance for all of us, but instead I'm gonna do something a lot more simple. I clutch your left wrist with my right, and with my other hand still gripping your hair, I turn around in a semi-circle and WHIP ya into the turnbuckles. HARD.
Ya BOUNCE off the corner pads, dazedly staggering a few steps forward upon colliding with them! I rush in just as ya stumble outta the corner, grab your hair and wrist again, and drag ya back to the center of the ring. I turn, shift my hips, pull on your sweaty hair and wrist, and WHIP ya violently into the corner behind me! BOOM.
Ya SMASH into those turnbuckles and much like the first time, ya stagger almost drunkenly outta that corner. And I'm right there to grab ya, one more time, clutching your hair from behind your head, gripping your wrist to walk ya back to the center. Only, I pick up my pace, peddling my feet, turning with a bit of SNAP so that this time, I can just DRILL ya into those corner turnbuckle pads. I don't just drill ya tho, I LAUNCH ya. And the force of the third Irish Whip is so damn strong you'd probably go flipping all over that corner upon impact!
-
There's something about seeing Eva, topless, hung upside down in the Tree of Woe that fills me with such joy - like watching the Golden Lovers finally reunite, or that Shin and Asuka are going to Wrestlemania. I'm fucking ECSTATIC! Standing in the center of the ring, hands on my shapely hips, looking poised and relaxed and totally in control, I admire the way her tattered body hangs there helplessly in the corner, gently swaying in disgrace as she's hung up to dry with no where to go. All mine.. I think to myself, a wicked grin appearing on my lips as I saunter closer to my helpless rival.
[The Ballroom is as noisy as ever as Eva hangs in the Tree of Woe, unable to free herself as she dangles above the ring. Her dark, tousled hair collects into a pool underneath her head, arms splayed out uselessly on either side of her, her lush tits hang loose, her juicy pussy lips threatening to devour her Cuba-themed thong whole the longer she stays in this position. And it just gets worse for her, as Tiffany approaches. The camera zooms in on Tiff's face, sinful pleasure inflaming her eyes, an impish grin settling on her lips, as she towers over her abused rival. She just stands there, admiring Eva's helplessness for a long moment, just taking in the sight of a woman who's humiliated her for years now finally on the receiving end. Then, Tiff's fingers grasp the waistband of Eva's thong! Eva stirs, shuddering helplessly in the corner! Tiff glances down at the camera, her face in full frame. She winks, and then YANKS VICIOUSLY DOWN on Eva's thong! The camera catches a shot of the Goddess from the side of her head as it hangs beside Tiffany's boot, screaming, hollering and crying out for the Queen to stop!]
The front of Eva's thong just continues to disappear between her glistening lips, and I merrily continue pulling down on it. I wedging the thong deeper into her, mainly to punish the arrogant Tramp, but also partly to see just how much longer I can yank down on this before it completely tears apart. I add a few twists to the material, making ya shudder and wince, noticing how you're now shaking wildly against me the more I keep ya in this torturous wedgie. I could keep holding on like this well until at least Wrestle Kingdom 13, but I got other ways to punish ya in mind.
[Tiffany finally releases her hold on the thong, which is now stretched out and firmly wedged inside of her tormented Tramp. The camera watches as Tiff reaches down and collects a handful of Eva's tangled tresses, straightening up while clutching the girl's hair in hand. She takes a step back as Eva's back now hangs parallel to the canvas, Tiffany's grip on her hair keeping her laid out straight with her legs still tangled over the top rope. Then, stiffly, Tiff begins KICKING the back of Eva! She begins firing sharp, stiff kicks into Eva's spine and kidneys, the first few shots resonating loudly as her boot just SNAPS Eva's bare back! Tiffany delivers at least half a dozen, the Hammerstein crowds groaning with each violent kick. Then, the Platinum Queen turns slightly to the side, lifts her left hand high up into the air, and brings it down HARD across across Eva's chest with an earsplitting SMACK!]
At the same instance, my right hand releases your hair, letting your body swing backward following my stinging left-handed slap, and your body falls, like a pendulum that swings back against the turnbuckles. Ya bounce off the pads but continue to hang there, dangling, helplessly and pittifully, spasming slightly. I stare at your tortured body, sizzling with pain and humiliation, and then I turn my eyes to glance over my shoulder to the far corner of the ring. The most devilish of grins forms on my lips and I turn and saunter to that side. I stand in the opposite corner, the fans while still noisy and loud are wondering what I've got planned next. With as much dramatic flare as I could muster, I turn around slowly, and the fans start to really get loud.
[The camera zooms in on Tiffany from behind. Tiffany's back fills the frame as her face turns and looks off-camera, and her right arm uncoils, slowly, extending outward so that her hand, shaped like a gun, points across the ring, pointing to Eva's dangling, prone body, still hung-up in the opposing corner. Then, Tiffany fires the shot-]
"BANG!!"
[-and the fans roar.]
[Cuts to the other camera that was in the corner that Eva was stuck in. This camera is positioned behind her at a slight angle, so her upside down body takes up the left portion of the frame, while Tiffany can be seen to the right, far off in the distance standing in the background, on the other end of the ring, ready to burst out of the gate - and she BURSTS alright! Tiffany SPRINTS at Eva, her charging body running closer to the camera, closer to her helpless rival, mere seconds away from unleashing all HELL onto the Goddess! The fans' wildly escalating cheers reaches a crescendo as the Platinum Queen reaches Eva - she leaps a foot into the air, right knee snapping up at the very last second so it can SMASH into Eva's CROTCH!]
[S-TRIGGER! S-TRIGGER! Tiffany hits her S-TRIGGER -- to EVA'S CAMEL TOE!!]
-
A shockwave of pain sets off within your body, wrecking havoc across your system as my S-Trigger lands flush between your legs! The roar from the fans washes over the caged ring in huge titanic waves as I hop back from crushing your cxnt, bouncing lightly on my heels after I land. I watch as ya hang there, sobbing and groaning miserably, eyes shut tight, hands cupping your aching kitty. Not much a Goddess now, are ya, sugah..
I allow ya a moment's rest, letting ya catch just a tiny sliver of your breath before I move in again. But I ain't gonna unwrap ya from the top rope so ya could ooze into the canvas and allow me to get the pin. Oh no no, it's too early to go for a pinfall! And honey, I'm only just beginning to unload the heavy artillery on your sweet ass..
How 'bout we go with.. The Hard Goodbye. Full version, setup and all.
I grab your shoulders, hoisting ya back up again, but this time I keep pushing ya up from behind until you're seated on the top rope. Your ankles go uncrossed, essentially unhooking ya from the top rope, leaving ya free to move off the top turnbuckle - if ya could. No, rather it leaves me free to move ya off the top, and I certainly intend to. I get in nice and close behind ya, letting my big, bare breasts and solid stiff nipples rub anxiously at your smooth, damp back. I breathe steamily against your ear for a moment, murmuring softly against your wet hair, letting my rasping breath wash over your skin. Then, I pull my left arm around and over your face, until my underarm pushes against your forehead. I lean back, and your head leans back, and I hook your left arm under my right. I take a step back, getting your body to hang horizontally once again from the top rope, but this time I have ya in a reverse front-facelock. I look around at the audience, they're waiting to see what I'm about to do. Let's not waste anymore time, shall we?
First, the Setup. Up and At Them!
[Tiffany breathes in deep, then HOISTS Eva up off the top rope while still trapping her in the inverted facelock. Tiff manages to lift Eva up into the air until she's upside down again, this time free from the top rope. But Tiffany leans back, all the way, until she falls backward into the canvas! Eva body arcs through the air before she SPLATS heavily, chest and belly first, onto the canvas! Reverse Suplex! But Tiffany isn't done just - in one smooth motion, she kicks her legs up into the air as she lays on her back, and then she rolls] back, over and on top of Eva's head and shoulder blades, until she's crouching over Eva's lower back, a foot landing smoothly on either side of her downed opponent's shapely hips. Tiffany licks her lips, wraps her arms now around Eva's waist, and breathes in deep.]
Now, the Big, Fat, Kill.
[She stands up first, muscling Eva onto her wobbly legs a moment later. The platinum haired powerhouse ducks her head beneath the Goddess' right arm, her left arm wrapped around Eva's waist from behind, her free hand cupping her between her legs. Without missing a beat, Tiffany LIFTS Eva high up off her feet, until her legs and arms are thrown UP into the air! Moving swiftly beneath Eva's elevated body so she now faces her side, Tiffany quickly moves her left hand up to grab Eva's shoulder, her right hand still grasping Eva's crotch in tightening fingers. In one fell breath, Tiffany falls to the mat, back-first, knees drawn up - and she RIPS Eva downward, pulling on her rival's crotch and shoulder so the Goddess' back IMPACTS WICKEDLY over BOTH of Tiffany's knees/shins! The Cuban Goddess goes FLYING wildly off of the Platinum Queen's bent knees, flailing about crazily in mid-air, while the fans let out one of the loudest "OOOOHHHH"'s of the night!]
-
Sometimes, saying Goodbye is 'bout as Hard as getting a lumbar check.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DWP_twPh3o
See? That was pretty hard.
Eva flew about as high into the air as LaRae - probably went even higher than Mrs. Wrestling. Her lower back slammed brutally into my bundled knees, the stiff collision blasting Eva high above the ring in a flailing screaming wreck before gravity does its thing and yanks her down harshly into the canvas. The entire ring trembles upon her smashing into it, and the fans are just screaming in wild appreciation, and I'm already on my feet, striding forward with a cold look in my deep green eyes. Your luscious yet battered body, laying in a spasming, shuddering heap, is dead in my sights, and I approach ya like a fucking Terminator relentlessly stalking its target.
Come with me if ya want to DIE.
...I am so glad I just thought that and not actually said it. It'd probably sound so lame had I actually said it..
The fans in the ballroom are really enjoying you getting your ass whipped like this, judging by how batshit crazy they're all going. All that noise is not JUST all coming from Punky either, who's six or seven beers deep and screaming her gorgeous face off with every move I hit (gawd, she looks fuckin' great tonight..). Though a lot of the noise she is responsible for, this ENTIRE crowd is hot for your destruction, and I sure as hell am going to destroy ya, sugah..
[Tiffany's fingers lace into Eva's hair and she pulls up the semi-conscious woman. Some rough tugging later and Eva is up on her feet, but she's leaning heavily against Tiff, barely even aware at this point in time of what's going on. The ref is now asking Tiffany to put an end to this beating, and Tiffany cuts him an unimpressed look. She replies to his pleas by yanking on Eva's tight top which has bunched up around her shoulder until it's completely off of her. She reaches down and firmly wipes the shirt between its owner's legs, getting a few whistles from the fans as she does so, and then nonchalantly Tiffany whips the shirt at the ref's face! He backs off, leaving Tiff to continue messing with her half-conscious foe - her hand returns to Eva's crotch, grabbing the thong that's still wedged deeply inside her. With a vicious YANK, Tiffany TEARS the thong right off of Eva! It snaps and breaks loose, exposing Eva's savoury pussy and her lush ass in the nude. The fans ROAR!]
[Taking the remnants of Eva's thong in her free hand, Tiffany saunters around in a complete circle, dragging Eva along with her by her hair, putting her aching yet mesmerizing body on full display for the entire Hammerstein crowd to see. Then, Tiffany stops in her tracks, turns sharply to Eva, who's still stumbling about after her in a daze, and SHOVES her rival's own torn thong deep into her mouth!]
[The camera zooms in on Eva's flustered face as her own Cuba-themed thong is forced deep past her lips, catching Tiff's hand curling just beneath her chin, fingers wrapping tight around her throat. The camera zooms out, pulling back to reveal Tiffany's other hand is now clutching Eva's naked sex, fingers squeezing it, cupping it, getting a firm grasp of her. A moment later, Tiffany LIFTS Eva up into the air, holding her high above her head in a Military Press! Much like earlier in the match, though Tiff isn't looking to hurl Eva into the cage this time around. Another round of raucous cheers rise up from the fans as Tiffany effortlessly holds Eva above her, then right in front of the hard camera, she starts to press Eva over her head! Five, six, seven times she presses her, much to the fans' delight!]
[At long last Tiffany puts an end to her own show of strength - she moves her hand from below Eva's throat to wrap it around the back of the Goddess' neck. She PULLS down on Eva's neck, while turning her body so that both women now face the same direction. Only Eva is dipping forward, as if she's gonna crash into the canvas in front of Tiffany - which is EXACTLY what Tiff wants to happen! Guiding Eva's rapidly falling body by the back of her neck, the Platinum Queen quickly sits down onto the mat - PLANTING the back of Eva's head/neck into the canvas between her spread apart legs! Military Press into a Samoan Driver!]
Or, as I'd like to call it - The Killswitch.
I'm in perfect position for the pin. Your body's curled up in front of me, between my spread legs, your shoulders pinned firmly to the mat, and I'm currently hooking your right leg back after planting ya with the Killswitch. The ref hurriedly slides onto his side to make the count - but I'm not pinning ya just yet, in fact, I'm already on my feet, pulling ya up by your hair..
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Your feet struggles to keep up with the rest of your body as I muscle ya up off the mat and drag ya toward a corner. Then by your tangled hair I spin ya around and SHOVE ya bodily into the turnbuckles, hearing ya groan out as ya practically sink into the corner pads. I take a moment to look over your battered form - it's actually pretty remarkable how ya can still even be standing after all the abuse you've endured, though standing is probably the only thing ya can do at this point, and ya really can't do that properly at the moment. Ya sag deeper into the corner and I'm thinking you're probably gonna end up passing out from the pain I've inflicted already before I put ya down with the Big Finish. Then, I look at ya, I just, look at you. My eyes crawl slowly over your luscious, aching, throbbing, agonized frame, hunkered down against the turnbuckles, arms outstretched lifelessly on either side of ya, hooked over the top ropes to keep ya upright, head bowed forward, hair a tousled matted mess as it drapes over your wearied face, big swollen, scratched up and reddened tits heaving, your juicy, savoury pussy quivering as shocks of pain still spark between your legs from my S-Trigger. You're one fucking hot mess, Eva, and just lookin' at ya is giving me the most wickedest idea of what to do with ya next..
I'm rollin' out the big guns to finish off one of my most troublesome adversaries. The Whiplash, S-Trigger, The Hard Goodbye, Killswitch. These are the moves that end most of my matches, done in succession and they could potentially end careers. Alright alright, I'll stop being so full of myself. Maybe not careers, but they'll put a bitch out on the shelf for at least a couple of months. And you Eva, ya look like ya could be out of wrestling action until that stupid Han Solo movie that no one ever asked for is released in theatres. You're ripe for the pin, hell, I could cover ya right now and the ref could count to 100 and ya wouldn't even flinch until deep into next week. But I wanna finish ya off in style, and I've got three options in mind. Despite the near comatose condition you're in, with that trademark hard-headed Latin stubbornness that ya possess, I actually kinda doubt that you'll tap to my Platinum Lock. I could wow the Hammerstein Ballroom with the Queen's Crossbow, but I think I'll save that move for another match. That only leaves my prime finisher. However, I don't wanna just hit ya with it and move on. Oh HELL nah! I have FOUR YEARS worth of owed payback to reign down on your sexy ass. Which means sweetheart, we're gonna do something special - we're gonna go up for the Big Finish. Wait, wait. I'm getting ahead of myself. First, that wicked idea.
My hands grab your left leg, and I roughly pull it over the middle rope until it dangles there loosely. I do the same with your right leg, propping ya up in the corner, spreading those fine, fishnet-clad legs apart, that tantalizing pussy on full display as well. I stare at that pussy, that glistening, dampened pussy. And I tilt my head, arching a brow and stifling a laugh. You're wet?? You're gettin' OFF on all this?? OH! This is fuckin' rich. OOoh Eva, my love, my Goddess, you are one bad,--
My hand SMACKS your inner left thigh.
Bad
My hand SMACKS your inner right thigh.
BAD
My hand SMACKS your moist pussy.
Tramp.
My palm now glistens with your juices. Ya let out a whimpering scream that could probably be a lusty moan, actually, and I turn around and saunter away from ya, my hips swaying enticingly from side to side, bare breasts jiggling with every step, my platinum ponytail swinging from left to right, gently swatting at my shapely ass. I give my palm a lick. Mmm.. tastes like defeat. I turn around, nice and slow, licking my lips, the look of cold, focused intensity now surfacing across my features. I line ya up, you're right in my crosshairs, your head lolling about as if it were on a swivel, your gasps and moans becoming more feverish, your whole body trembling in fear and anticipation. My hands slide up my body, over my bountiful chest, fingers dragging over my bare breasts, nails flicking over my stiff nips. I breathe in deep, and as I draw in a long sweeping breath of air, I move forward, peddling my heels, breaking into quick lil' strides before I SNAP a FIERCE KICK right between your outstretched thighs!
"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhh!" groans the Hammerstein Ballroom before they all burst into thunderous applause.
Now, that ain't exactly a move I typically do. But I am most certainly a Silk afterall - and Silks do break hearts and shatter dreams..
-
The dream shatterin' cxnt kick lands flush, leaving ya moaning and gasping for air. The brightest smile lights up my face as I step back from demolishing your pussy, looking over your destruction as ya hang there limply in the ropes. I take a look around, the fans of the ballroom all cheering and hollerin' loudly, excitedly, just beyond those cage walls. I glance up at the space above ya, at the corner of the steel cage that towers behind ya. My smile deepens, knowing that it's time to finish ya off. I step forward.
[The hard camera watches Tiffany approach the ragged Eva still hooked up and hanging in the corner. The topless platinum blonde bombshell takes her time unhooking Eva's arms from over the top rope, allowing her rival to lean forward, but before she rival can ooze down and spill all over the canvas, Tiff crouches low and turns to her side. This way, Eva slumps onto and across Tiffany's shoulders. Tiff grasps Eva's right arm, and hooks her right leg tightly. She straightens up, then turns around so her back is to the corner, then takes a step on the bottom rope. The fans, if they haven't already, are all standing now.]
Going up..
[Balancing Eva over her shoulders in a Fireman's Carry, Tiffany slowly ascends the ropes. She gets to the second rope with a bit of effort, and would usually stop there. But she keeps going, climbing up to the very top rope. She takes a moment to steady herself with her arch-nemesis cradled over her shoulders, her arm now moving from clutching the woman's right arm to wrapping over the back of Eva's neck. The other arm is gripping Eva's dangling, lifeless right leg. Tiffany is poised and ready to deliver a move many fans are very familiar with, setting up for a top rope variant of her finishing maneuver. The Hammerstein crowds now are deafening.]
Oh, and "WHAT A MANEUVER!" it is...
Here is that 'something special' I was talkin' about earlier. Here is Option #3. The Royal Flush. The Big Finish.
The camera watches Tiffany LAUNCH herself off the top rope, with Eva still on her shoulders! Soaring through the air, in one smooth, almost blurring motion, Tiffany begins to execute her super finisher! She releases Eva's right leg and pushes the woman's inner thigh forward, causing Eva's body to swing around her front! Eva's body leaves Tiff's shoulders, turns in mid-flight, legs sweep up beside the platinum blonde's diving body, her back now facing the ring! Gravity now does its part, PULLING the two women down to the canvas just as Tiffany gets Eva into position! The momentum of the swing adds more force to her finisher, and with her arm still draped across Eva's chest, the Platinum Queen PLANTS the Cuban Goddess DEAD into the center of the ring! FLATLINER! FLATLINER! Tiffany actually managed to hit a top-rope, SUPER FLATLINER!
Even I bounce off the mat after hitting Eva with the top rope Flatliner. I get a lil' bit of hang time on that bounce as well, and land at least two or three feet away from my flattened, destroyed Goddess. I land in a heap, knees mostly burning, chest heaving. Like I've said earlier, landings aren't my strong suit. But, that pop. That fuckin' pop. The BOOM from the crowd, the absolute explosion of noise and sound from the audience, that shakes the very foundations of the Hammerstein Ballroom the second my Super Flatliner hits - it sends the right kind of chills down my spine. I'm elated by that reaction. But what comes next, pinning my longtime nemesis right in the middle of the ring, the middle of Manhattan, the middle of the whole fuckin' universe, is gawd damn euphoric.
After a few long moments I push myself up onto all fours, the madness hollering around the ballroom turning into chants of "PLAT-NUM-QUEEN! PLAT-NUM-QUEEN! PLAT-NUM-QUEEN!". It brings a smile to this old gal's face and I look over at you - what's left of ya. You're a ravaged heap, laying motionless, moaning softly, spasming here and there. Tits still look delicious, though. I crawl over to ya, and lazily I toss my left leg over your body, and just rest my body over your waist, my big ample bosom mushrooming your tits at first, then dragging across your breasts as I lay down heavily across ya. Soon, my 38Ds cover your face, smothering ya firmly. I grab your wrists, and pin your motionless arms down to the canvas, trapping your hands tight above your head. And I just sink down into ya, curling my body so my gold and black lycra booty shorts really grip my ass - and making sure my shapely, curvy bottom points directly at Punky.
I take a moment to plant a long kiss to your forehead, and a memory plays out in my mind. A memory of a time when ya owned me in the Tramp Mansion. You had just finished tying me to a chair, using a bundle of rope to secure me and render me helpless. You were sitting on my lap, rubbing your sexy, mostly nude body against my mostly clothed body as ya went about tying me up, like all our previous encounters. And I was just reeling from the arousal, from the excitement, from the humiliation. Ya owned me, yet again, and that time you didn't even need Carmen's help - ya captured me all on your lonesome. And after you were done tying me up, ya gagged me tight, taunted me some more, and kissed me on my forehead. Ya slipped off my lap and left me alone in that room, your laughter echoing after ya, leaving me helplessly bound and gagged and humiliated. Up until that moment I believed I would never escape this fate - I was going to be your bitch forever, you'd always own me and keep me tied up, keep me as all yours. Later that night, the Tramps all joined in on punishing and humiliating me before they gang banged me. But, I'll always remember that kiss ya planted on my forehead..
Times have changed, haven't they, Goddess?
I finish planting my kiss on your forehead, before I glance up at the ref and give him a look, and he slides to the mat and slaps the canvas once..
ONE!
-
I could probably stay here on top of ya all night.
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
The Hammerstein erupts. The roar of the crowd just blares in my ears, thundering loudly around the ballroom. I remain on top of ya, sprawled across your prone body for a few lingering moments. I zone in on ya, everything else becoming far away, distant. I can feel the heat just radiating off your skin, the smoothness of your abused tits rising gently into my waist, can hear the soft, dull moans that float upward from your parted lips. I can smell your defeat as I savour my victory. Then, I peel off of ya, getting onto my knees, eyes hooded by heavy lids, a ghost of a smile touching my mouth, crawling slowly over your tormented, nude body. I slowly lick my lips and get to my feet, a boot planted on either side of your waist, towering over my defeated, conquered rival. My hand is raised by the ref, his grubby paw on my wrist, lifting it up to declare me the winner. The fuckin' winner. I don't move from my spot, I don't dare step away from my place over ya. I just continue posing over your ruined carcass, a sheepish, satisfied grin on my lips, my hand raised up in victory.
"HERE IS YOUR WINNER! THE PLATINUM QUEEN! TIFFANYYY!!!"
[Tiffany's hand is raised high in victory and she relishes in the moment, when suddenly, she grabs the ref, draws him in close while crouching low, draping him up almost too effortlessly onto her shoulders! The fans' stop their cheering for a brief moment, going from wild cheers to bewildered gasps - only to cheer LOUDER as Tiffany steps away from the down Cuban Goddess with the zebra balanced over her shoulders! And then, Tiffany PLANTS the ref with the FLATLINER!]
Don't need this zebra getting in my way for what's comin' next. Having driven the ref down hard into the canvas, I slide up to my feet and saunter over to Eva's deadweight, reaching down to grab a handful of her matted, tangled and sweaty hair. I hoist her up to her feet, she sways and leans against me heavily. She's still very much KO'd from the Super Flatliner, making it all the more easier for what I've got planned for her. I duck my head down low to push it underneath her left arm, grabbing hold of her left leg, hooking it firmly in my grasp, pushing my shoulder into her lower back. A deep breath later I straighten up and LIFT Eva onto my shoulders! I have the Latin beauty laying precariously on her back over my shoulders, pulling my left hand down over her face, while my right hand - is clawing harshly between her legs!
It may seem like I was going for a simple Torture Rack, but no no. This is, afterall, a grudge match and I'm fixin' on burying this grudge in the most fitting way - by burying my own fucking hand deep within this bitch's cxnt. By using her own fucking finishing move on her. The "Cuba Libra" as you'd like to call it, sugah. My fingers just claw and scrape and squeeze at your crotch, and despite your peril my hand feels like its getting just pretty moist from your juices. Figures. You've been getting so wet with every slam I hit on ya throughout this match. You're practically gushing now. I take a bit of a lap around the ring, with the slightest of effort I carry ya around the ring and display ya like a treasured catch, like my desired trophy. That's all that I've reduced ya to, Eva. A trophy. I continue pulling down on your face and crotch, bending that back over my shoulders, causing your tits to thrust upward and your crotch to dampen. Then, I stop,
and drop.
I drop to my side, releasing your crotch in mid-fall, letting the momentum of the fall carry your body off of my shoulders - so your head just SMASHES into the canvas! Your body folds up and then collapses into a crumbled heap beside me. Another round of deafening cheers makes it way around the ballroom, and just like when I pinned ya a moment ago, I take a few to soak these cheers up. I get to my feet after a bit of relishing, sauntering over to my corner where I had discarded my jacket into before the match started. I reach over the top rope and grab the slim, black leather hooded jacket, tossing it on, zipping up the front to conceal my breasts. The crowds, understandably, boo this. Voraciously, I should add, even if I've left ample cleavage. I roll my eyes and walk back to Eva.
[The cage door has been unshackled by a ring attendant, and it's kicked open by Tiffany, who climbs through it while roughly dragging the destroyed Tramp along with her. Tiffany sets foot on the floor mat surrounding the caged ring and untangles her hand from Eva's hair so that her rival's luscious yet beaten body can pour outta the cage, through the door and onto the mat. Tiffany grabs hold of Eva after she's spilled over the ground, and pulls her upright, her unconscious body hauled onto lifeless feet. The weary, unconscious Tramp is half-carried, half-dragged around the cage, until finally she's pressed up against the steel mesh wall, right in the middle. Tiffany keeps her right hand firmly on Eva's chest to keep her upright, and reaches into her left jacket pocket with her free hand to grab a pair of clinking shiny handcuffs. Another loud roar bursts from the fans as Tiffany snaps the cuff around Eva's right wrist, then shoves the battered woman's arm up against the cage wall until it fully extends outward, away from her body. Tiff locks the other metallic cuff to the wall, effectively cuffing Eva's right wrist to the cage. Once her arm's secured, Tiffany reaches again into her jacket, this time into her right pocket, and retrieves another pair of cuffs. She snaps one of the cuffs onto Eva's left wrist, pulls her arm up and away from her body and attaches the other cuff to the cage wall. Eva is now strung up, tied to the cage with handcuffs, her arms spread apart in a crucifix position. And the Platinum Queen smiles broadly.]
I just stare at ya for a long, long moment, taking in the sight of my arch-nemesis, beaten and bound. This moment I keep locked away in my heart, just relishing in the sight of ya finally humiliated, finally tied up, finally destroyed. Finally, owned by me. "Finally. Fuckin' FINALLY. I have ya. You're mine now, Eva. I own you.." I purr at ya softly, quietly, sinfully. Only you can hear my wicked whispery taunting voice, even if you're knocked the fuck out. I take your face in my hands, pulling your head back until it smacks against the cage wall. I gaze into your flustered, wearied face, and I tilt my head forward, my face pushing against yours, my lips crushing your lips in a domineering, lingering kiss. I rub up anxiously against your body as my tongue pushes its way past your parted lips, to explore the warm interior of your mouth, wrestling roughly with your hot, wet tongue. Then, finally, I pull out, peeling away from your face with a gasp, with a great big smile and a satisfied look on my face. I release your face, letting your head loll forward, letting ya hang there, tied up and cuffed to the cage, nude, and absolutely helpless.
One down..
My killer theme ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAb5SasJ2Y4 ) strikes up over the PA again as vast waves of applause rain down over the ringside area. I turn away from Eva, my vanquished rival, my captured Goddess, and my eyes find Megan standing behind the rail from her ringside seat with that big drunken grin on her beautiful face. My heart flutters a bit as I look her over. I thought she'd flown back home already, after the Red/Jenny Dare match a few weeks ago. I never expected her to show up here. A slow smile forms on my face as I look at her, wordlessly stepping up to the rail to gaze at her pretty face. She reeks of alcohol. I don't care. I steal a steamy hot kiss, but a few tantalizing moments later my hand reaches into her hand, to grab at the half empty cup of beer. I pull away from her mouth and breezily whisper, "your seventh?" Before this enticing, purple haired imp could answer, I give her a sly grin, take a step back and finish the rest of her drink. That probably could spell disastrous ramifications for me at a later time (ya never steal beer from Punky!) but I'm feelin' too good right now to think 'bout that. I toss the empty cup over my shoulder and wink at her, before I throw the hood of my jacket over my head and turn away, marching up the ramp..
Sorry, gorgeous. I needed one for the road, and the road ahead's a long one...
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Who doesn't love a steel cage battle! Thank you both for posting this!