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  #751  
Old 04-Apr-21, 21:21
TheChallengeMaster TheChallengeMaster is offline
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Default Re: Tales of the Sex Fighting League

Lots of neat lil things happening lately so gonna give some of my reaction to them.

The Magnum match was a fun one. The guy look like he has potentail if he can get out of his own head for a bit and just focus on the wrestling and his skills. Having Chelsea with him will help until she's had enough, but I hope they stay together a bit and that he actually get a bt better from it.

While I'm not sure for OP how good it was for his character to lose a round to someone who's been seen as a jobber, seeing some fighting spirit in miss Stelle and making her out to be someone who has the potential to get out of her slump is nice. She didnt go down easily and might be a fun person to see more matches of in the future. Obviously her one dimensional offence with her leg might make ehr struggle more.

Chelsea herself was fun in that part. Full of energy, a total tease for Magum, fully in his head, enjoying the pain of others like no one else could and sexually benefiting from it. She's always a blast to have around.

In case I had not talked about The Dan and machien match, fun lil'thing, kinda surprised a former pornstar didnt had more sexual resiliance however, kind of feel like she was easy to beat. Sure Dan fingers are supposed to be good but we're talking about a woman whos life before this was getting fucked. But strong look for her and its cool to see her introduced this way before having her career continue on another project.

Jane match was entertaining she is a bit more of the cruel type of fighter who enjoy playing with her prey, was nice to see some offence from Alex but at the end of the day one of the problem I've had is some people dont always look as strong as they should, so I think he had the perfect amount of resistance against a much better stronger opponent who deserves that kind of victories.

I continue to like the Mel and Keiji friendship, he dosent shine with personality but he has enough to be appreciated and combined with her they work. Will be a fun match of hers to read and I liked the mindgames by Nikky.

The last segment was good for sure but I f was good and I like the idea of th eel this is where I have a bit more nitpicks. While the trading of words was good and I enjoy the idea of the locker room giving Dan a look and having their ideas in mind, I do have one bigger poitn against it and one very veyr minor thing.

For the big one, I kind of feel like once again Charlotte is not fully reaching the potential that the character has. With her personality, her introduction, it feel like she could really be a big villain, someone who cause a lot of problems . Yet everytime they have a verbal exchange, she loses and loses BADLY. SHe got made to squirt in their match meaning she started her career with a loss, her only win we've seen is again a guy we havent really seen do much as he lost both time we saw him (funilly enough in single competition even tho him and his wife are clearly a duo) and she only got out of facing said wife by attackign abckstage. And if you compare to the other villains, Nikky has Beast, Katy,Jenny, somewhat Ashley too, Chelsea has Mantaur who's a colossal man and magnum OP who's maybe not the best but he does have power and a mean streak. Charlotte failed to recruit good talented wrestlers more than once, to the point where she's now with Kenny G-String. I know the readers like her and believe me, I do too, she's fun, energetic, a total brat (I love that) and she has lots of attitude, but she really feel like a...filler villain? Like Nikky is Joker, Katy is Two Face, Jenny is Bane, Chelsea is The Riddler while Charlotte is...Firefly?Calendar Man? Like she just lack a bit of that sucess that could make her feel as big as it seems she could be. Still a very fun character, still lots of enjoyable moments, I just wish there was a bit more with it.

And the very minor thing, I'm super glad to see Silva, she had a really fun match in that story and I'm SO READY to see more of her. But I kind of feel like her beating the same guy Maryse did somewhat take away from Maryse? I felt like it was cool that she defeated a real SFL member, that she showed ''oh maybe she is dangerous'' but since the guy now seem to be a jobber, it kind of make Maryse look like,well,nothing. She defeated a nobody, no reason to care really. But that is pretty minor.

So really, it's a fun story. Even the thing I had the most negative things to say about his related to a character I find very fun, just that she might be missing a bit the mark on where she could/should be. Hope you're still having fun with this story!
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  #752  
Old 05-Apr-21, 10:04
TZA TZA is offline
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Default Re: Tales of the Sex Fighting League

There's been so much action lately (and so much more to come) that I thought it was good to have a section like this to really let the story breathe. Stuff can get so fast and furious, with many characters coming and going, that it's nice to really ground the story back with its main character. We get Dan's thoughts on his match, and get to see the continuously changing way the League perceives him. Obviously, his interaction with Charlotte formed the largest part of the chapter, but Dan feeling all the eyes on him was really cool.

Regarding Charlotte, I always think it's interesting just how much Daniel's in her head. I get it, of course, she holds herself up on the highest pedestal, and Dan was the one guy to stand up to her and ruin her debut. But this is now a couple of times that she's sought him out of her own accord, just to run him down and try to get him to admit that she's an equal. The argument between Charlotte and Daniel has been really the same ever since they first met (lineage/heredity/prestige vs. hard work/grit) but you gave it a different dimension this time, I think. Not only did he make her so flustered that she could barely respond, but he did it in front of numerous other sexfighters, most of whom probably side with Dan. I wonder if, in that moment, she realizes that no amount of screeching about her family name will get her the respect she so obviously craves. If she wants respect, she's eventually going to have to do it the same way everyone does it in the SFL: by fighting and fucking your way to the top. This is just my own speculation, but I think she'll eventually find her way into the IC Title Tournament, and if so, scenes like this are really good ways to push her into something that her character originally wouldn't want to do.

Lastly, I thought the ending with Daniel and Jane was pretty effective too. Not that he didn't already know it, but it gives Dan an even more concrete picture of the waters he'll be swimming in come tournament time. Assuming he makes it through the gauntlet, of course.
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  #753  
Old 08-Apr-21, 14:51
batman4life batman4life is offline
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Default Tales of the Sex Fighting League: Marking The Territory

Kendra was unsurprisingly low-key as she traveled through the winding hallway that led back to her locker room.

Wearing a loose robe that covered her chest and just enough below the waist, her relatively reserved demeanor was of course intentional.

Conserving energy after a match, especially one that was especially physically trying upon her wiry frame, was a necessity to ensure she could still perform well behind closed doors.

And tonight, she would be entertaining a very eager bloke in her dressing room.

Ever since her misguided attempt to marry professional with personal through her tag team with the Guardsman, the Duchess elected to do away with those conflicting goals entirely and focus on the bare essentials.

Her pleasure.

It shouldn’t matter who it was that delivered it to her, as long as he (or she) was up for the task.

And surely this lad would do just fi-

“Oh Kendra, Kendra!”

The slim Brit stopped mid-thought, knowing already what this was all about.

She barely had to turn much from her current direction to see none other than Missy Robinson practically racing up her rear, moving quickly with flats on.

Whipping her hair back as the interviewer’s accompanying cameraman took up position in front of them, the former Intercontinental Champion kept her face reasonably guarded.

“Kendra, I know you just came back from a match, but if you could-”

“One minute, luv.” The Englishwoman may have been in a rush to get to where she was going, but a hint of common courtesy here and there wouldn’t go amiss. “That’s all you get me for.”

Nodding feverishly at the sexfighter’s curt response, Missy signaled the cameraman to begin filming and then proceeded on, “You just prevailed in a very physical matchup against the Thriller, which comes one week after you qualified for the Intercontinental Title Tournament. Afterwards, many fans couldn’t help but notice a bit of a staredown between you and the Swann. To new viewers who may not be aware, your participation in the last official tournament- the Ruler of the Ring, was unceremoniously ended when Jane defeated you in the quarterfinals to advance on and became the overall runner up. So at that moment, when you two locked eyes again, maybe give the fans a bit of a snapshot into what you were thinking? Feeling?”

“Jane is an….interesting little bird, isn’t she?” the brunette woman started off. “She is good at what she does, her record speaks to that. But good as she may be, we both know it only takes one mistake to take you from the victory table right into the boiling pot. Last time we shared that ring, I made a mistake, well, maybe more than just one, and so ended my journey. Fortunately, I don’t make a habit of making the same mistake again. As to why I stared on the ramp-”

“Blah blah blah….”

Once more, Kendra was interrupted in her stride.

And by the two people she most loathed in this place.

Fresh from a pair of showers, Mandy and Kim were wearing bright, well, everything.

Bright matching pink heels.

Pink formfitting dresses with sleeveless arms and polka-dot designs decorated throughout.

Even a blind man from ten miles away couldn’t miss them.

“Missy, you need to thank us,” the blonde Champion smiled out in her most insincere smile, the title belt over one shoulder garnering a look from its former owner.

With her sunglasses still on, she looked down at the short interviewer. “The second Mary Poppins opened her mouth, the ratings took a major nosedive. It’s just….wow, I can’t even.”

“So boring,” Kim chirped in her usual snide tone, in perfect tandem with the tall woman.

“But here we are, and lo and behold, people are tuning back in to see beautiful, successful women on their screens again,” she beamed, giving herself a self-congratulatory bounce in place. “And all is right with the world again. Right, bae?”

Her best friend gave a smiling reply in their shared valley-girl cadence. “Absolutely, bae.”

“Cunts,” Kendra greeted them both with an extremely not-friendly smile, one that made Missy take a step back.

Mandy made a pouty face, mimicking a patronizing tone while turning to the Assassin. “Awww, somebody’s upset things didn’t go their way last week.”

“Least she was still conscious when the show ended,” Kim taunted her, referring to the final image of the show broadcast.

An image that had plenty of replay value in the Brit’s mind.

“Kendra, cheer up, alright. You main-evented the show last week.” Cutthroat came off so excitable that her blonde ponytail bounced from left to right.

“That is like, a huge achievement. You should be so proud, buuuut….” She dragged out the last part of her statement, only to replace her tentative expression with a smug leer, “You should also be thanking us.”

“We did light that fire under your skinny ass in the first place,” Kim further added with a shrug.

“Don’t be modest, bae. It was more like a bonfire.” The Intercontinental Champion took a confident step towards the unimpressed Brit. “We gave you that go-getter attitude that you’ve been missing for weeks. Don’t we deserve props for that?”

“If I owe you two anything, it’ll be delivered handily in that ring with due time,” the Englishwoman replied coolly, staring right at Cutthroat. “A good arse kicking should never be rushed. For the fans, of course.”

“Oh, you mean like how you ‘kicked our arses’ last week?” Mandy cajoled at her, mocking an English accent for a second much to Km’s snickering amusement. “Not how we remember it.”

“As I said…” The Englishwoman’s expression was unwavering, set in stone. “All in good time.”

The American woman flashed her a smile, her polished facial features a subtle contrast to the slight bruising lining up Kendra’s face just from the match more than a half-hour ago.

Missy cued the cameraman to keep rolling with the two women, near identical in height, now practically nose-to-nose in a tense staredown.

The only thing separating them, not coincidentally, was the title.

Mandy sneered at her London-born rival cockily, “Alright, so real talk. Last week, I took it upon myself to make sure you got in the door. That wasn’t a courtesy to you, Miss Twiggy. It was just me being...strategic. Because that’s what champions do. They think ahead, and always come out on top. So believe you me, I know exactly how this story ends. Right down to the epilogue.”

“Oh yeah?” the Duchess was all ears now. “Do tell.”

Mandy clasped her fingers together. “Bottom line, I need you out of my hair, because you and me, it’s not meant to be. I am a legend in the making, one of the greatest to ever hold this title, and you…” She pretended to hold back a chuckle, before adopting a darker tone. “You are a cockroach. And no matter how many times I try to stomp you out, you always crawl back into my life. Again and again, it is just so annoying. But that’s cool…”

She kept on smiling at Kendra, “Because as much as I love squishing little bugs under my adorable heels, I also enjoy having other people doing it for me. Which is why you’re exactly where I need you to be.”

Kendra’s fists balled reflexively. “I trust you’ll get to the point soon?”

“Just before our match last week, I went to the Miz and uh, ‘amended’ the original deal you had with the Commish just a teensy bit. Champion’s discretion, something you obviously wouldn’t know about.” That little barb in the end only irritated Kendra further, but Cutthroat had more to say, “Now, you did ‘win’ the match, if you can call it that, so you’re in the brackets. I couldn’t mess with that bit even if I wanted. But let’s talk about what could- no, let’s face it, what will happen, when we get to tourney time in a couple of weeks.”

Mandy’s smile got even brighter, if that was even possible. “If and when you lose to anyone in the tournament- prelims, quarterfinals, semis, whatever, then you will never, ever, challenge for the Intercontinental Title again while I’m still champion.”

The Duchess was no longer smiling.

“No more going to the back of the line, no more whining to management for another golden ticket. If you lose in that tournament, you lose for realsies. And, again, just so there’s no confusion, you will never, ever get this close again to my golden child.” Mandy was relishing this reveal like she’d been waiting all week to deliver it, which she probably was. “And babe, we’re not talking weeks, or months here. I’m gonna be holding this shit down for years.”

Kendra’s expression had shifted, but not necessarily in the direction that either Cutthroat or her bestie probably expected.

It wasn’t disappointment, or even sadness, but rather, a begrudging acceptance.

“If I can't beat the very best to challenge for that title, then I don’t deserve the opportunity anyways,” she finally admitted.

Her concession seemed to evoke a different feeling for Mandy: pure bemusement.

“So honest, isn’t she bae?” she remarked, stepping back as her partner nodded in shared sentiment. “I like that, I like that a lot. Missy, where are you?”

The interviewer, who had been treated as almost invisible this whole time, perked back up. “Yes?”

Mandy gestured for the interviewer to get closer to her with the microphone before speaking again, “Kendra is such a good sport. So considerate, so humble, isn’t she?”

She looked at the European woman, then back at the champion. “Um yes, I would certainly agree with that.”

“Me too,” Kim smiled, leaning her head against the interviewer’s shoulder from the other side.

The blonde champion seemed content just stroking the title plate in front of Kendra, a move that ‘never, ever’ (to use some of the champ’s words), ceased to annoy her.

Crossing her arms, the Duchess sternly made her next statement, “Now that you’ve had your say, would it be rude of me to ask you two twats to bugger off, already?”

Mandy stopped caressing her title belt, only to look at her BFF.

Kim looked back at her with a smile.

The former champion remained at the ready.

She had fell victim to their little backstage ambush before.

Not again.

“I guess we should let you go. After all, we do have some business to take care of in the ring a little later on.” Mandy turned to the visibly cross yet ever-wary Brit with sudden remembrance in her eyes, “Oh, but before that, guess whose office we just walked out of? The Miz! Yeah, he was working on the card for next week, but, since he’s new to our elite roster, he was struggling a lot to really nail down the best fit for your next match. And since you were a little busy handling Greg, we decided for you, since we know you so well obviously….”

Kendra’s eyes narrowed.

Cutthroat kept on smiling with a knowing glow in her face. “It was just a teeny, tiny suggestion, but he ran with it. Loved it so, so much. It’s someone you don’t know yet, but boy, you two will be gal pals in a heartbeat. I just got a feeling.”

The slim Brit raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Who is it?”

“Me.”

The gruffness of that outside voice crept right up Kendra’s neck. Literally.

Instinctively, she turned to come face-to-face with well... a taller woman’s chest.

She was looking right at the black sports bra of none other than Elaine Adonis.

The American bodybuilder stared down at the Englishwoman with intense eyes, aggression palpable in every inch of her being.

Clenched fists. Tight abs.

The Duchess saw the slender yet muscular body in front of her, dressed in black from her workout gear to her shoes, and didn’t falter back.

She only smiled.

By this point, Missy had smartly taken a few steps back, though her cameraman continued to capture every moment of this unexpected standoff.

And yet, the Englishwoman didn’t budge an inch.

“Well….” Kendra took a deep breath, readying herself. “I don’t have all night, luv.”

Elaine scoffed at her, turning to look at Mandy over the shorter woman’s shoulder….

…. and then immediately nailed the Duchess with a sharp forearm right to the jaw.

Cracking the Englishwoman right in the cheek with a sucker punch, she grabbed a firm grip over the now reeling Brit’s hair.

Slamming a vicious knee right into her lean midriff, she delivered a second knee in the same stomach area before twisting her hip around and throwing Kendra headfirst into a fire extinguisher container on the wall.

Hitting the hard part of the metal door outlining the thin glass, the sudden impact dropped the dark-haired woman on her knees instantly.

Wincing out loudly, she crawled on all fours with the robe hanging very loosely to her torso, exposing skin by the frame.

Trailing her with a focused yet fierce look on her eyes, Elaine smirked.

“Blondie said you were tough. That you think you can break people,” the Amazonian woman growled out, going around the crawling woman only to deliver a cruel punt kick right to her midsection to keep her level with the cold floor.

Gasping out at the unforgiving impact, the Duchess couldn’t crawl anymore at that moment.

Elaine cracked her knuckles eagerly. “Sounds like competition to me.”

Bending down, she grabbed the former champion up with her bare hands, seemingly using just a small portion of her Amazonian strength to raise Kendra to a standing position.

Taking aim with a quick look over her shoulder, Adonis turned in that direction, informing Kendra’s next ‘destination’.

With a determined cry, the built woman hurled the Duchess stomachfirst into a medium-sized equipment crate.

Knees buckled and hair whipped forward as the slender woman slumped down from the rectangular container, clinging on to the latches and creases of the surface with her fingers.

Mandy watched on curiously, as if she were a neutral spectator in all this.

“Hey, hey knock it off!” Immediately, a nearby crew member tried to step in between them, waving his hands at Elaine to try and appeal to her better nature.

Only she had none.

“Get the fuck back!” Adonis yelled at him, feinting a lunge at him to force the smaller man out of her way.

She turned back to ward off more ringhands attempting to intervene, again ignoring their frantic pleas for mercy.

Turning back around to the European sexfighter, she reached one hand out to grab-

“Ugghh!” Mid-motion, a sudden kick from the resilient Brit managed to connect against her gut.

Finding a surprising rally through the pain, the Duchess pushed herself upwards while nailing another kick to almost stagger the tank-like woman.

Eventually standing up of her own accord, Kendra lunged and felt her forearm connect soundly against Elaine’s lower jaw.

Operating purely on a fighter’s instinct, she delivered another forearm to further send the bodybuilder back, closer to where Mandy and Kim still were.

Getting more of her wits back, Kendra, with her raven locks disheveled and her breasts on full display, lunged right back in to deliver a third blow.

But she was caught, trapped instantly in a bodylock with Elaine wrapping her arms around her wiry frame to press their bodies together.

She grunted out at the firmness of the bodybuilder’s covered breasts against her bare chest, but shouted out in horror as the muscular woman flipped her overhead with a deft pop of her hips.

Tossed like a pillow with the impromptu belly-to-belly suplex, she landed with a merciless thud right on the floor.

Crying out with no vocal restraint at all, the Duchess curled over on her side in complete agony, her spine wracked in even more searing discomfort with the abuse of her match with the Thriller coming back to haunt her.

Sitting up, Elaine rose like it was no trouble at all, leaving Kendra still writhing out on the ground, completely vulnerable.

Observing closely together, Mandy and Kim made no move to interfere, only feigning concern while playing spectators to what was now unfolding.

Wiping a smudge of blood off her lip, the gym enthusiast’s malevolent intentions were not deterred by even more ringhands coming out to shield the European woman from further harm.

Closing in around the foreign-born woman, she shoved them all out of the way one at a time, a lone predator staking her claim over her wounded prey.

And sensibly, they all chose to keep a distance, even as Elaine’s fist closed in around the writhing brunette’s hair once again.

Tugging her up like a dog on a leash, she kept the one-handed grip while guiding the Duchess onwards throughout the backstage area, followed by the cameraman.

“Oh, this looks fun.” Stopping suddenly, she threw Kendra head and chestfirst into a rack of metallic rods stacked up on a rolling cart.

She crashed and collapsed immediately as the poles used normally for curtain draping fell over on top of her in a loud symphony of clanging.

Very weakly, she tried to push off the metal rods, but her real problems seemed to be concentrated in a fresh headache sprouting up in her temple.

And that headache wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Towering above the fallen Duchess with purely predatory body language, Adonis grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her out of the metallic mess.

Again, the various workers tried to intervene, but Elaine was not to be stopped.

“Come here.” Snarling as she gripped the woman by the wrist, she easily dragged the Duchess across the floor.

Taking her non-resisting body a few more feet to the right, she bent down and grabbed the woman’s hair once they arrived at her chosen spot.

Kendra was suddenly forced headfirst between her attacker’s legs, kneeling groggily with her fingers clawing weakly at the bodybuilder’s thighs.

She felt those strong forearms come together under her stomach, and then, no longer felt the ground underneath her feet.

Flipping the brunette woman upwards and onto her shoulders in a single lifting motion, the bodybuilder hefted the leaner sexfighter up for a solid few seconds…

…. and then without hesitation powerbombed her backfirst against another equipment crate.

Crashing down with a deflating groan, Kendra grabbed painfully at the back of her head, her posture completely defenseless.

And Elaine just stared at her.

She stared...and smiled.

Calming her own breathing after those exhilarating motions, the woman warded off another attempt at intervention by the backstage workers with just a menacing stare.

Then, with her victim’s body still visibly racked in agony, she leaned in close.

“Next week, I do worse,” she growled intently at her grimacing face.

She stalked away from the former champion, leaving only the cameraman, Mandy and Kim, and various personnel that had gathered to witness this malicious mauling.

Sauntering next to the groaning brunette after Adonis had turned around a corner, Cutthroat’s expression changed from concerned to smug in an instant.

“I knew you two would hit it off,” she proclaimed with a smile, twirling around on her heel and strutting away with Kim ever so eager to follow. “Nice chatting with you again, babe!!”

Groaning and cursing intermittently, Kendra’s twisted grimace was fully on display as she was finally attended to.

_________________________________________


Nikky was a very hard woman to please.

And for good reason.

She was at the absolute apex of her career, the prime of her physical being, not to mention held in high favor by almost every man and woman that commanded the slightest pedigree of influence behind the scenes.

To the uninitiated, she was that bitch that wouldn’t go down to anyone- male or female, past, present, and future.

But to those in this line of work, she was much more than that.

She was the standard.

Everyone else, including the (extremely) handsome man in the ring now, well, they were just chasing perfection.

Approximately thirty seconds later to the exact moment after liftoff, Brad fell backwards to deliver a delayed vertical suplex to the already pain-laden Man-Eater.

The ring gave a sizable thud to accompany both of their bodies hitting its center at the same time.

Madison Keely’s back instinctively rose above the canvas in a painful arch, her attractive facial features scrunched up in a recurring mask of agony.

Then, she crumpled over to her side, a helpless gasp escaping her lips.

Bradley sat up calmly, barely a gleam of sweat on his upper body.

His overall musculature was every woman’s wet dream, and the sporadic high-pitched cries of the female spectators reflected that fact.

But they can scream all they want.

Brad knew exactly who he was going home with tonight.

Getting off the mat, the current tag champion looked down at the writhing woman before him, her bra naturally torn off her slender body leaving only her panties (for various reasons).

And one of those reasons was this.

Reaching down, he gripped the thong part of her waistband, his rough fingers slipping underneath that strip of fabric between her petite buttocks.

She moaned out in groggy acknowledgment, the effects of all that blood rushing up to her skull from the vertical delay still not fully processed.

With that one hand, he pulled her up off the mat like he was lifting up a dumbbell a quarter of her weight.

His forearm muscles rippled only slightly as Madison felt her entire body dangling just off the ground as an impromptu showcase of his pure strength.

Maybe for his own amusement, he started to curl his bicep up and down, simultaneously bringing the brunette up and down in the air at the same time for a little in-ring “exercise.”

Nikky watched on with a lustfully tinted smile, both title belts draped over each shoulder.

Madison continued to be strung along with absolutely no agency on her part, her legs swinging groggily up near Brad’s moderately focused face.

And then, seemingly on a whim, he let go of the thong, prompting the Man-Eater to eat the mat once more.

Collapsing like a sack of potatoes at his booted feet, she grabbed at her chest while the Beast stood over her.

Watching. Waiting. Relishing.

Grabbing her by the hair, he brought her back off the mat with a single yank, tucking her underneath his right armpit while the idea was apparently still fresh in his mind.

Securing a front facelock, he grabbed her leg with the opposite hand, and then lifted her off the mat.

Keeping her elevated at a vertical angle once more, he took his time with the delivery.

Turning from one corner to another, he marched around the ring almost too casually, given the hundred plus woman hefted up on purely the strength of his arms.

Whereas many male sexfighters would’ve already felt a subtle buckle in their legs or a waver in their forearms, the Beast held the Man-Eater up firmly, without any hint of falter.

Then, once the tag champ finished a round trip back to where he started, down he went.

Madison cried out yet again as the back of her head impacted the mat, followed a nanosecond later by the rest of her slender frame.

The mat proved once more how unforgiving it was as the fisherman suplex left its mark on the Man-Eater in agonizing detail.

Nikky had walked over from one side of the ring to one that gave a better view facing the petite Arkansas native.

Seconds after the landing, the pain was still illustrating her face, her eyes trying not to zone out and get lost within the disorienting daze of this nonstop punishment.

The Wildcat always enjoyed these small moments, one where her opponent is eventually coming to grips with how utterly fucked they really are.

It was why she preferred being at ringside when her man was scheduled to wreck a bitch and not at the commentary table.

And almost on cue, the two champions locked eyes with Bradley sitting up.

Just like always, not a word was spoken.

He already knew what to do.


***


“There are many ways that a match can go, but from experience, let me say: nobody- and I mean nobody, wants to have their downfall be long and drawn out. I’ll take a flashy superkick and a KO any day over this methodical, hard-hitting style that we’re seeing now from the Beast,” Kevin reported.

Only seconds after he spoke, Madison was dragged up to her feet and guided roughly over to a nearby corner.

“So then why, if I could ask, do you think he is drawing this out? I mean, we’re two falls in. The first fall was pretty much what we expected. She came hot out of the gates with those dropkicks, but he quickly shut that down. Keely tried for some aerial moves, but none of them seemed to take him off his feet. Finally, she went for that top rope blockbuster, but he caught her in mid-air- which, by the way, one of the damndest things I ever saw with my old eyes, and then planted her square in the middle with a muscle buster. From there, we had- whoa, that impact!” George paused mid-recollection of the first fall to wince out as Brad delivered a harsh shoulder thrust to Madison against the turnbuckle corner.

His upper body remained level with the middle ropes as he slammed into her petite form yet again, threatening to fold the young woman in half like a cheap chair while he reared back for a third.

“...anyways, as I was saying, he ended things right there with a chinlock submission. But here, it seems to me that his strategy seems to be seeing just how many moves he can pull out of his arsenal and get in before the timer runs. Not that that’s an ineffective strategy, but there are quicker ways to get where he’s going, right?”

Bradley speared his shoulder into the midriff of Madison for a fourth time, making her cry out while Nikky watched on expectantly.

Kevin posited a new perspective. “Maybe the answer to your question is in a word: audience. Who is Brad playing to, here? The fans? Maybe a little, but really, he’s doing whatever will make the Wildcat happy. And if physical destruction really makes her engine purr, then you can bet that’s exactly what he’s going to do. And it doesn’t matter how redundant it gets. What she wants, she gets. Plain and simple.”


***


Madison slumped back against the middle pad, posture still slumped while Brad stared down her bare back.

He had given her ten seconds grace after the last shoulder thrust, letting her slide down to her knees with her head facing towards the ringpost.

But the Beast was still restless, eyes bearing down on her with a palpable intensity.

It was ten seconds too long.

“Didn’t say you could rest yet.” Growling out while grabbing her from both sides, he easily hauled the Man-Eater up to her feet, her back pressed tightly against his chest.

A familiar and very dangerous position to be in.

Brad walked back a few steps, solidifying his grip over her….

… and then promptly hurled Keely across the ring with a vicious German suplex, tossing her with no care at all for where she landed.

Going from one end of the ring to another in a finger’s snap, the brunette crashed down in a groggy heap with her hair partially obscuring her true reaction.

But plenty could be inferred by the way she laid there on her belly, ass up somewhat in a provocative pose with her cheek to the canvas.

The crowd certainly made a note of her inadvertent positioning upon landing, but Brad could care less.

Up and walking with such purposeful single-mindedness that the referee smartly kept her distance, he had reached her a moment later.

One leg on either side of her prostate and pain-wracked body, the powerhouse half of the SFL Tag Champions once more tilted his focused glower down upon her.

Sensing the aura of vulnerability coming out of her writhing posture made him feel….unsatisfied.

Bending down slightly, he reached down to grab her face with one hand, pulling her towards his standing position.

Peeled off the ground, she barely even registered his arms slipping under her pits to give an additional boost off the mat.

Bringing her to an extremely wobbly stand, he pivoted with his hips and tossed her haphazardly into the corner behind them.

She was still in a slumped position, arms loosely looped around the top rope while he nearly went chest-to-chest with her.

Cupping her chin firmly, he made sure her eyes were on him, watching the lips come together to form his next statement.

“Bad news is you’re still on the hook for about five more minutes. I got shit to get in, and I always get my shit in,” he growled at her, his bearded expression downright scary even with his somewhat restrained tone.

“Good news….” That elicited a slight chuckle, which was even scarier. “Once I’m done beating you like a bitch, you’re gonna get fucked like one. And no one fucks like I do, so at least you’ll have that to be proud of.”

Letting go of her face, he roughly turned the Man-Eater around so her back was to him, the ideal setup for-

SMAACK! The meaty surface of his open palm slashed soundly across her shoulderblades in a knife edge chop, targeting her back instead of the chest this time.

A delayed Woooo! came from the crowd as Keely’s legs nearly gave her under her once again, making her sink right into that middle turnbuckle pad which somewhat muffled her most immediate reaction.

Once more kneeling in the opposite direction, she now sported a blistering streak just below the base of her neck to go with the various ‘souvenirs’ that the Beast had left on her front.

The official still kept out of the way as he reached down to grab her with another chuckle.

Sharing a bemused look with the Wildcat, he coincidentally let his eyes wander over the crowd and….

…. he paused, practically freezing in place.

Nikky, who was more than comfortable watching the ongoing onslaught, noticed this and followed his oral trajectory.

Turning, she combed through the cheering fans in the front rows, seeing no one in particular stand out until….some people did.

Casually walking right into two previously empty chairs, was a man with shaggy blonde hair in an army-style jacket and his female companion, an attractive blonde with bare legs, boots, booty shorts, and a black T-Shirt with a simple message stitched across her chest: Table for Two.

Bonnie and Brix.

Still holding on to the titles, she made her way over to where they were now standing, flanked on all sides by equally distracted fans.

And while the female tag champ sized them up with her experienced eyes, the enigmatic duo responded in like fashion.

By staring right back at her, and then, sitting down like any other fan.

Bonnie leisurely crossed one leg over the other while Brix leaned forward with his forearms resting on the barricade.

The built, shaggy-haired man matched her interest while his blonde partner seemed to focus more so on what was happening in the ring.

Very warily, Nikky turned back to Brad and signaled him with a nod to continue on with the match.

Reluctantly, he put his attention back on his opponent, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest once more.

Bringing her out of the corner with the rear waistlock, he fixed the apparently ‘neutral’ observers a threatening glare before bridging backwards for the release, German suplexing Madison once more across the ring.

He had already let go of her body when landing on his back, anticipating the thud of flesh against canvas behind his ears.

And the Man-Eater did land, but it wasn’t on her neck.

It was on her feet.

Backflipping in mid-air, she surprised nearly the entire arena by maneuvering her body so that she touched down on the mat on her heels with a slight stagger to gather her balance.

The pain had not entirely left her face, but there was apparently still enough in her tank to keep herself upright much to the surprise of the crowd.

Although, it took Brad slightly longer to realize this fact as he got up, taking a cue from Nikky’s slightly surprised face and then turning around to-

“Uggghh!” Out of nowhere, she clocked the Beast with a running forearm right to the jaw, elevating herself in mid-air once she was in range to get the most out of it.

And she certainly did, sending the man back a few solid steps until he righted himself.

Nikky showed some slight displeasure seeing her boyfriend and tag partner take such a sound blow from an undercarder, a glorified cum dumpster by any other name.

But he didn’t share that same feeling.

Once Brad was firm in his stance, he turned to Keely with a line of crimson running down his lips.

He was smiling. “Thanks for waking me up.”

Growling out in an animalistic fervor, he lunged at her with an arcing clothesline, going for the head but finding nothing but empty air in its place.

Ducking his aggressive move while launching into a focused sprint at the same time, she went back to the same corner, seemingly with no other place to go once he whirled around.

Seizing upon her instantly, he took off with another focused snarl, going for a splash, while simultaneously biting right down on her bait.

Once the Beast changed into range, she brought both legs up in a defensive kick, looking to connect right against his incoming face.

And maybe she would’ve if her opponent was anyone else.

But being the reigning champ with multiple title defenses under his belt, Brad was aware enough to halt his advance and grab her feet just before they could fully extend out towards him.

Stopping her counterattack cold turkey, he clicked his lips together disapprovingly and then swung them over the top rope…

…. not anticipating her covertly grabbing the rope with one hand and swinging her hips back around to catch him right in the face with a rebounding enziguri!

A sudden slap of flesh against flesh woke up the audience completely as the Beast stumbled back in groggy disbelief.

Going from confidently assured to visibly rocked, he even flailed his arms out in an unfocused attempt to gather his bearings.

And at that moment, seconds after kicking the tag champion square in the mouth, Madison realized three things: 1) her back still hurt like hell, 2) he was facing away from her, and 3) she was still on the top rope.

Raising herself up into a more traditional perch on top, she quickly rose up, prompting many in the crowd to do the same, and then took flight.

Launching herself off the turnbuckle, she captured his head in a headlock mid-dive, ultimately driving him facefirst into the mat while she landed in a sitting position.

It was that diving bulldog that finally brought the Beast level with the canvas for the first time in the match against his will.

And the fans recognized that rare accomplishment by cheering on the Man-Eater who rolled away from him to continue her own recovery at a relatively safe distance.

On all fours and still moving, she coiled one arm around the far side of the ropes and used the cables for support while Bradley did what he did best: he persisted.

Grabbing at his mouth, the male sexfighter nonetheless pulled himself up only a few seconds later with the impact obviously not as long-lasting as his petite opponent had hoped.

Cursing softly under his breath, he started to straighten his back out-

“Hah!” Darting into his blindside before he could think of raising his arms, Madison connected with a running dropkick right to the side of his head.

Another amazing stagger took hold of the Beast as he reeled backwards from the soles of her feet slamming into his cheekbone.

Nearly losing his balance, Brad just avoided an unceremonious faceplant by taking a knee on the mat instead.

Shaking his head like a wild animal obviously shaken from a violent tryst with a not-so-docile prey, he was now the one being stalked by the aggressor sexfighter.

Rising up with more sizable chunks of the fans behind her than ever before, she knew she had to keep this successful chain of offense going.

But more than anything, she really needed to assert herself.

A subtle swagger took to her hips now with every sashaying step towards the dazed Beast, working the crowd as well as probably annoying his girlfriend.

Speaking of...

“You think I would’ve learned my lesson after the last big person threw my ass around this ring like a basketball…” Referring back to her last match with Elaine Adonis, Madison threw back her hair, revealing a sultry gaze that dared to meet his dark eyes, “But maybe I like it rough.”

“...heh, then you’re in luck,” he growled out with a very dangerous smile. “I’ll fucking break you in half and you’ll still beg for my cock.”

“Oh, we haven’t played with that toy yet, have we?” Again going the seductive route, she tilted her eyes down his flexing chest muscles and washboard abs, right to the package between his legs. “No, I bet Nikky loves taking this out to-whoooaa!”

The Beast exploded into her the second she reached into his trunks and pulled out his manhood, stealing back the advantage before she even had time to properly savor it.

Knocking her off her feet and into his moving grip, Brad rammed her backfirst into the buckles, going right back to one of his tried-and-true techniques of physically wearing down his opponents.

Gripping the ropes, he let her slump forward over his shoulder and then violently sandwiched her between himself and the turnbuckle once more for his own take on the shoulder thrust.

Crying out before an inevitable collapse took hold, she would’ve fallen flat on her face, if not for Brad’s firm hand right on her throat halting the full descent.

Of course, it wasn’t for her benefit.

Kept somewhat upright with her grimacing face level with his waist, he inched forward so the Man-Eater could get a better idea of what he had in mind.

Maybe the most telling sign was his dick nearly slapping her in the face, her close proximity with his hanging appendage obviously not an accident.

“Suck,” he ordered her, his hands gripping her hair up in a makeshift ponytail so that there was no escape. “Or you can make it harder for yourself. I don’t give a shit.”

With no immediate option presenting it, Keely had no choice but to hastily open her lips and accept what was offered freely to her.

Taking his length right into her mouth, she stretched her lips around to fit the girth within her oral region.

Without warning, he started to pump his hips, feeding her cock by the second.

“Mmmmmmmmm….” Moaning around his manhood relentlessly plunging into her oral depths, she forced herself to keep up with him, even though her spine was still fairly messed up from the disorienting impact.

That didn’t stop Madison from sucking the Beast’s flesh earnestly, making him grunt out in relief with every dominating pump.

Lewd slurping was eventually rewarded by the slick feel of his precum leaking from his crown, wetting her lips as his cock assumed a more rigid shape.


***


“Newer fans may question Brad just giving what should be his most guarded body part over to his opponent, but the rationale here is purely psychological: making her pleasure you first, and then using that same energy to completely overwhelm her later on. He’s in complete control of this exchange, as you can see...” Kevin paused to note the male sexfighter freely facefucking her in the corner, much to the silent yet smiling approval of the Wildcat, and then finished up, “.... check out how his body is reacting here. We saw little chinks in his armor a minute or so ago, but that all seems to be patched up now that he’s had time to just stand still and not be in constant motion. So very smart play by one of our tag champs.”

“Couldn’t say any better myself. I do wonder how much, if any, of a role that those people behind the barricade- apparently free agents from what I’ve been told, could play in the remainder of this match.” George nodded to Bonnie and Brix casually watching the Beast’s sexual dominance. “Last time they were in this ring, somebody went through a table, if you’ll recall. Now, I don’t know if history will repeat itself, but let’s face it, they’re out here for a reason.”


***


Madison had sucked and sucked until she was at the root of his cock, nose just a few inches away from his happy trail.

She glided up and down just on his shaft some, ears subtly attuned to his growing sighs and pleased groans.

His hand remained steely as ever on her hair, but his dick was throbbing palpably in her mouth.

Battered as she may be, she would be a fool if she didn’t try and push her luck.

Pulling back some, she started polishing his tip with her tongue for added sensory stimulation when he (smartly) withdrew his cock from her warm oral cavern.

Only a thin line of saliva connected the two now before even that was severed by the Beast reasserting a choke grip over her.

“Not bad,” he grunted out, horny but just enough to keep his wits intact.

Yanking her off her kneeling position, he brought the Man-Eater towards the center of the ring.

The Wildcat couldn’t keep her eyes off of Bonnie and Brix for too long, but she did center her gaze back in the ring as her boyfriend whipped Keely into the ropes and then anticipated her rebound.

Riding that momentum without stopping, she was promptly collected by his outstretched hands which hooked both armpits and then flung her upwards in the air.

Grabbing around her legs just as she landed on his shoulders, the Beast fulfilled the popup aspect of his signature slam, and of course next came the-

“Uggghhhh….” Usually next would come the actual powerbomb itself, but Madison Keely had other plans, instead flipping him over with her legs wrapped tight around his shoulders in a headscissors formation.

Delivering a surprise hurricanrana out of nowhere, she landed smoothly enough on her belly while Brad was flung after her in a forced somersault, landing hard on his tailbone much to the delight of the crowd!

“Fuck!” Yelling out loudly, he went down on his back and kept rolling, pain now having its way with him as he ultimately took himself out of the ring altogether.

Craning her head back, Madison made a desperate lunge for the male sexfighter, but he had already rolled under the bottom rope and out of her range.

It was an unpopular but arguably necessary move for the more experienced man to compose himself outside the parameters of the squared circle.

He ignored the booing of the crowd, gave a reassuring nod to the Wildcat around the corner, and then climbed back up on the ring apron.

Standing up, he was expecting to see many things, but he didn’t quite anticipate the Man-Eater to suddenly spring off the adjacent ropes closest to him, launching herself towards him with her hips twisting around for a second enziguri that clocked him right behind the ear!

There was no adequate sound effect that could replicate the satisfying sound of her bare foot smacking against the side of his skull, stunning the Beast almost instantly.

His hands instinctively clung to the top rope but there was a visible dizziness in his eyes, his stance swaying more than normal in the immediate aftermath of the aerial kick.

Now, there was definitely cause for a little concern on Nikky’s face by the way her man was not exactly stable on the ring apron.

Peeling herself off the mat, Madison looked up at the groggy champ, almost in shock at his current state (and maybe more specifically how she managed to get him that way).

Her hair was a mess, her spine faring little better.

But then, she looked down…..and a saucy grin took to her lips.

The Wildcat’s chagrin levels rose considerably as she saw Keely present herself on all fours and then crawl towards her partner with a desirable swivel of her hips.

Moving at a sensual pace that gave the fans plenty of photo opportunity, she arrived right at the site of his (this time, unintentionally) unguarded manhood.

His dick, hanging down just above the middle rope, was free estate, and to that….

“Don’t mind if I do, stud,” she purred up at him, first nuzzling up against his ten inch plus cock.

Lashing out with her tongue, she teased along its veiny length, tracing the ridges underneath the head of his erect rod.

He registered all that preliminary stimulation with an unintelligible moan, low at first but growing in volume once she took the liberty of fondling his balls with her free hand.

That added touch down under seemed to really send a jolt of sexual realization up his spine, though his stance still on the ring apron remained sluggish from the head kick.

Just how she wanted.

Her tongue danced around his cocktip yet again, a serpentine curl that made the once so dominant Beast seem….less so.

“You like that, huh?” she noticed aloud, keeping her tongue right where it was, on the throbbing tip of his prick.

Tilting her head, she licked around his fleshy helmet even more, culminating it all in one sloppy kiss right where his precum was still leaking.

“Better hold on to those ropes, big boy….” Madison Keely cooed at him, emboldening eroticism taking root in her voice. “Because when I start sucking…”

Another kiss made him groan out even more, just before those lips widened.

“...I don’t stop until I feel your load shoot down my throat….and into the bottom of my stomach.”

Making good on that statement, Madison devoured the Beast whole.

Sliding him in deep with a soft moan, she really started to bring out those infamous head bobs to really bring out her best oral performance possible.

And right now, only the best could possibly hope to tame a current titleholder of SFL gold.

Working her lips to take more and more meat until his shaft was practically poking right at her uvula, she fought back a gagging reflex and let pure sexual drive and desire take over.

And those two elements were working perfectly in tandem to elicit the most favorable reaction.

First, that antagonistic grunting turned very gradually to reluctantly appreciative of her kneeling sex vice.

True to her word, she started to ramp things up to a fever pitch once his throbbing manhood heated up big time in her mouth.

Her wavy hair whipped from one side to the other as she deepened the oral impaling, going full throttle with nothing to lose.

And with a potential sexual fall over a champ, well, more than everything to gain.

Nikky’s concern became even more apparent now, even as she remained a certain distance away from her partner in continued erotic distress.

Shaking his head groggily, he was seemingly glued to the ring apron with the Man-Eater sucking him in deeper and deeper and deeper…

“Fuck...fuck…” The Beast was on wobbly legs, practically vibrating with sensual desperation against her cheeks.

Deepthroating him all the way to his base, she smiled with the impossible now somewhat becoming possible, the tensing up of his loins signaling one thing and one thing only…. resistance!

Completing going against the sway and shake of his hips against her bobbing head, Bradley tightened his fingers around her hair all the way down to the scalp and forcibly pulled her off his throbbing shaft.

In a move that surely required almost superhuman strength of will, the Beast freed his cock from the Man-Eater’s sultry lips, subsequently saving face in the eyes of not only his very observant girlfriend but the equally invested Bonnie and Brix.

Reclaiming his libido right at the brink of total eruption, he shoved Keely back with a somewhat desperate push against her temple.

The brunette tumbled backwards, regaining her balance with a well-timed roll over on one shoulder to reemerge back on her feet.

And once she was up, she was moving.

Racing right back to the Beast, Madison showed no fear the whole way, leaping up in the air for a flying forearm.

Throwing herself back into the fire, she nailed the mid-air launch….

…. but got burned right as contact was made.

Catching her around the throat with a single hand, he straightened himself up with the Man-Eater gasping out with vivid surprise painted across her face.

Wrapping his fingers in around her windpipe, he pulled the unsuspecting sexfighter in close, a different kind of fervor occupying his eyes now.

Though still stranded on the ring apron, he ‘requested’ her company by lifting Keely up and over the top rope with just the one arm, again demonstrating the Herculean strength that resided within him.

Hefting her entire weight like it was a minor inconvenience, he remained in the exact spot while Madison fell unceremoniously to the mat down below.

No time to really break her fall, she had to eat the padded floor completely on her chest and face.

Pulling off the move that was less a chokeslam and more an outright toss from Point A to Point B, Brad took a solid second to formally steady his breathing.

Then, he took hold of his cock, slick from all her seductive oral pampering, and started to stroke.


***


“Dang, that was close! Closer than most women have gotten, I must say,” George commented, a replay of Madison’s sensual blowjob with the tag champion on the JumboTron above him. “Judging by the way he’s looking at her though, I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. I’m gonna go with-”

“She’s dead,” Kevin deadpanned just to get right to the point. “No one gets Brad that close to completion without paying a price. Now Tiffany, she was that one in a hundred, maybe in a thousand. Man-Eater, if you want my opinion, she needs to start getting some distance and start praying. I don’t know if she quite understands who, or maybe what, she’s just awakened.”


***


On her hands and knees, Keely did indeed crawl with all the energy she could muster up.

Far, far away from the sound of Brad jumping down on the floor behind her.

She moved at a slightly sluggish pace, owing to the inherently violent manner in which she was taken out of the ring and dropped to the outside.

But, while she was crawling, the Beast was walking, and he was walking with malicious purpose.

Trailing her from behind, he stayed at her pace, still stroking himself for reasons only he knew, reasons that she would be better off not knowing.

But Keely did come to know something else, right as she started to get around a corner.

Two sneakered feet in front of her, leading up to a pair of jeans, a crude Rob Zombie T-Shirt, and of course, a pitying half-smirk.

Nikky didn’t have much pity for anyone, but certainly she felt a tinge of something looking down at the young, attractive woman.

On her knees, Madison never got a word out once Brad grabbed her from behind with one hand, a firm grip from which there would be no escape.

Forcing her on her feet well before she was ready, he clasped that same hand around the nape of her neck, holding her upright before yanking one of her arms towards him.

Hooking under her armpits, he launched her up into the air and then back down on his upper body, the Man-Eater landing in the powerbomb position with both legs on his shoulders and her crotch level with his determined face.

Taking a step towards the ring, he ignored her protesting cry, and then, right in front of his partner’s comfortably cold glare, slammed the Man-Eater backfirst into the ring apron!

A chilling effect swept through the crowd as the Beast delivered a much more sadistic version of his Beast Bomb on the hard stretch of canvas just under the bottom rope.

Her petite form underwent a ragdoll effect almost immediately, crumpling down to the ground with only a pained shout finding its way out of her grimacing lips.

The referee instantly exited the ring to check up on Madison, her body wracked in a fresh layer of suffering.

Suffering that only galvanized the Beast even more.

With both titles still shouldered over her, Nikky sauntered back a few steps, an alluring nonchalance in her swaying hips contrasting to the crowd’s more horrified and aghast reaction.

Trying to communicate with the brunette woman, she only received nodding confirmation that the female sexfighter was at least consciously aware of what was going on before Brad stepped in.

Grabbing her by her thong once again, he flexed up with his bicep, lifting up the Man-Eater with a literal curl of his muscled forearm.

Finding use for her bottoms even now, he put her upper body under the bottom rope and unsympathetically shoved the rest back inside the ring.

A second one-armed shove was sufficient enough to put her closer to the center, leaving just enough room for Brad to roll back in.

Keely groggily felt up the obviously bruised discs in her back, only dimly aware of his methodical footsteps approaching her rear.

Her chin was still to the mat as he kicked apart her legs, allowing him to kneel down and strip away her panties completely, baring her cheeks.

Very groggily, she squirmed out against the phallic shape touching down on her right thigh, the shape fully formed in its masculine extension.

Fully formed, and ready to-

“Uggghhh!” Madison gave an anguished moan out as he slammed his cock right into the back-entry of her pussy, hilting himself in one steamy, sheathing motion.

He was inside her, and quickly made his presence felt.

Leaning forward to collect her by the wrists, he pinned both arms down by her sides and thrusted roughly with his hips.

She grunted out, in almost gobsmacked realization at the penetrating pleasure spearing right into her core.

He thrusted again, prompting one of her legs to instinctively kick up.

Another thrust, and her eyes fully went glazed over.

Again and again and again, it didn’t even matter the number of times he thrusted into her.

Madison was already broken.

Slamming his cock in and out, in and out, of her glistening cunt, the Beast roared in menacing fashion as he sexually battered the young sexfighter.

He throttled her with the unrelenting bluntness of a jackhammer, visibly reverberating through every inch of her naked form.

Restraining physically, she had no choice but to whine and whimper, surrender utterly into his erotic pounding.

And that she did.

Not a full minute later, Madison unsurprisingly surrendered to his phallic invader, spasming out as her body came in pulsating waves around his thick girth.

The discharge seeping from her penetrated folds trickled down into the mat prompted the referee to call for the bell on what was already a foregone conclusion.

He gave one last mighty pump of his hips before dismounting the defeated woman, his chest gleaming with a victorious sheen of sweat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this contest with a forced orgasm via fuckpin….”

The crowd booed, but Bradley was not to be denied the formal gesture of having his arm be raised by the referee. “....SFL Tag Champion, THE BEAST!!!”

Sparing one last look at the blonde observers, Nikky strutted up the steps, taking her time entering the ring.

Turning to face her, he celebrated the singles win with a kiss to her before taking his belt and brandishing it up proudly in the center of the ring.

Nikky smiled of course at his quite aggressive celebratory poses, but someone else also demanded her attention.

Kneeling down, she cupped Madison by the chin and lifted the poor woman up into a kneel.

Waiting until she was somewhat back down to earth again after the orgasm had run its full course, the Wildcat kept the Man-Eater upright more or less out of her own amusement.

“Did you enjoy my man’s cock tonight?” she first questioned the brunette woman, who was just past the stage of practically drooling all over herself.

“.....”

“Yeah, it does leave one speechless at times. I totally agree.” Having fun with this one, Nikky suddenly snapped her fingers in his direction, signaling for her human battering ram to make his way over to them.

And he did, bringing with him that throbbing, dangling extension of man-meat that had yet to be properly relieved.

“The Man-Eater. Such a cute name. That is such a cute name, right Bradley?” She looked up at her boyfriend, and then, back at Madison who was wholly sex-drunk still.

Nikky’s smile widened as she took hold of Brad’s manhood, dominantly stroking it without even breaking eye contact with the groggy woman.

He shuddered in her ultracompetent grip, those fingers squeezing and teasing his flesh like no other.

“Be even cuter if you actually had some wins on your belt. But hey, we can’t all be champions in this place.” Her tone was mocking, though her touch on his flesh remained as sensual and attentive as ever.

“I am impressed though. You made Brad work for his pussy, and he loves that shit. Just as much as he loves doing this.” Abruptly pausing her handjob, she leaned out of the way. “Take it.”

“Fuck yes.” Grabbing the woman by the hair, he shoved his dick right into her mouth, sliding his cock all the way into his cock.

Her cheeks were hollowed out completely as he took the initiative, thrusting in and out while her tongue reflexively swirled around his twitching shaft.

She barely had to do anything at this point; the initiative came entirely from the Beast.

And he took his pleasure from her mouth with the same rough-and-tough aggressiveness he had used to nearly stretch her pussy lips into oblivion with that same beastly weapon.

Seconds later, he would buck and blow his load right into her mouth.

And when that was done, and he had unloaded all that he needed into her receiving throat, the Beast withdrew his cock with satisfaction.

Rising up, Nikky stepped over the now marked Man-Eater, an invisible chain prompting the Beast to follow after her with his belt slung triumphantly over his shoulder.

And with the tag champions’ backs to them, Brix made a move to get up, but Bonnie held him back with a hand on his shoulder.

Their eyes locked on, and then, all was understood.

Not yet.

________________________________


Author's Note: Another one in the can!

- Model for Madison 'The Man-Eater" Keely is Jillian Janson. Mary Kalisy for Nikky. I have yet to discover Brad's model, but I'll let you know if it pops up.

- Very game effort from Madison. We haven't seen her in a while, but certainly she's hopefully starting to make up for lost time.

- So yes, Bonnie and Brix have shown up before, specifically in a match that Brad had against Sara Steele a few shows back. Seems to be a common element there...

- Next week, it will indeed be Kendra "The Duchess" vs Elaine Adonis. Nothing on the line except pride!

- Thanks for reading, as always! Up next will be Southern Comfort in tag team action. And after that, I think we'll start getting to those matchups that many of you have wanted to see for some time. Appreciate the patience!!
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Last edited by batman4life; 10-Apr-21 at 14:49.
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Old 10-Apr-21, 09:14
TZA TZA is offline
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Default Re: Tales of the Sex Fighting League

Definitely liked how the match played out. Sometimes there are those fights that just scream "clean sweep," and going in, I thought this would be one of those, but you put such a fun wrinkle in this match. Not that I doubted the ending, but there was a moment where I thought, "Oh, is she actually going to steal a round?" Hell of an effort, but no dice. Madison did seem like she got him close enough that I was surprised Brad decided to fuck her for the win. There was at least some risk in that, when he could've just fingered or eaten her out for the win. It does seem in Brad's character though to just jackhammer away and not show any weakness, especially in front of potential future opponents.

Once she's finished licking her latest wounds, maybe Madison should petition for an easier opponent next time. Elaine Adonis and the Beast back-to-back is a pretty rough start to a career.
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Old 19-Apr-21, 06:18
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Default Tales of the Sex Fighting League: Southern Hospitality

“Gah! I cannot believe him!”

With another angry stomp, Charlotte West paced back around to retrace her steps, right in front of the shadow boxing Kenny G-String.

Fists balled tight enough to break pencils, the blonde second-generation sexfighter was certainly in a mood.

And in the hallway they inhabited for the present moment, her voice was being expressed so loudly it barely even needed a megaphone to be amplified.

Her vibrant and expensive dress flowed right with her upset body as she continued venting aloud, “I gave that disrespectful, underachieving little man yet another chance to acknowledge me, and he wastes it. And then he has the gall to humiliate me in front of all those other equally worthless peasants. Me, of all people!”

Pausing in his low-energy routine, the male athlete took this as his cue to try and calm the steaming blonde woman down, “Hey look, the guy’s a total tool, alright. From what I hear, all he does is just spam suplexes all the time. Yeah, dude’s got tricks, but who fucking cares if you can’t put the pipe to pussy, am I right?”

Charlotte paused mid-tantrum.

She looked at Kenny. “What did you just say?”

Forced on the spot to do a bit of mental rewinding, he told her, “Uh, I was just saying that the guy’s a total-”

“No I heard that. I mean about his fingers….?” Charlotte was perfectly content ignoring everything that he was saying in favor of getting out her totally validated frustrations, but there was the slightest nugget of interest there in the second half of his statement.

“Oh right.” Slapping his forehead, he chuckled, “So a few weeks back, I was talking with that hot as fuck Mermaid chick. Man, she was fine as hell. Could blind somebody with all that hotness, you know what I mean?!”

Charlotte wore an expression of someone who couldn’t care in the slightest. “Whatever.”

“Anyways, I was dropping one-liners like crazy. And not like the cheesy ones, but the good ones. Y’know, the ones I was telling you abou-”

“Kenny.” She held up a hand. “Stay on topic, please.”

“Right right. So anyways, she was telling me that Danger has got it going on with those hands. Like, he was strumming that clit like a harp, you know what I mean? She was making it out like it was some big thing, but I was no-selling it. Like, so what? Anyhow, then she said she had ‘plans’ or whatever, totally shot me down. But I’m not mad, because I got you.”

Smiling at the end, he looked at Charlotte who seemed deep in thought, barely paying him any mind.

But she did come around to focus on him again. “Interesting. And he beat Nia the same way, tonight. With his fingers, not his painfully below-average dick.”

“Is someone insecure or what?” The brunette man smirked at that connection now made.

“No, he’s smart. He’s hiding his weakness, just like how I suspected.” She took a step towards Kenny, still musing aloud, “But he’s not as smart as he thinks he is.”

“And you are so much smarter than he is,” Kenny complimented her, only to receive a dismissive scoff in reply, “Of course I am, Kenneth, but that’s beside the point.”

Grabbing his shoulders with both hands, she looked right into his eyes, practically into his soul.

“Forget about Daniel. Forget about everything that just happened,” she told him, her tone verging on motivational. “Your Princess needs your A-Game tonight. Just like how we talked about. Angelina doesn’t take you seriously. None of these peasants, here or out there, take you seriously. This is your chance to prove them all wrong. And an even better chance for you….”
Her hands moved in closer, caressing his neck almost tenderly. “...to prove me right.”

Charlotte finally reminded him in a sweetened tone, “You do this for me, in my family’s name, Kenneth, and I will be so, so appreciative. Remember what I told you, about me getting down on my knees in the middle of that ring, unbuckling those pants of yours, and putting my perfect lips on your good little soldier?”

He nodded in mouth-watering anticipation of that fantasy potentially coming into reality. “Hell yeah.”

“Beat La Dama, and I’ll also let you put that dick…” She suggested almost with innocent flattery, “In any hole in my body. Except my ass. We don’t have that good of a relationship.”

“Meh, 2 out of 3 ain’t bad.” He was still satisfied at the tantalizing prospects, nonetheless.

“Good boy.” She patted him on the cheek. “I need to talk with one of my associates now, so why don’t you finish warming up? Your big moment is coming so soon, Kenny.”

Nodding, he resumed his shadow boxing, conveniently turning his back to an eye roll from Charlotte West who then fished in her pocketbook for her cellphone.


***


The Beast was already halfway through draining a water jug with his slender partner sauntering at his side, both champions riding high after the triumphant showcase in the ring.

His bare chest certainly invited many female onlookers from the gathering area they were now entering, including many friendly and not-so-friendly faces.

But of course, there was one face that dared to accompany their stride back to their locker room.

And in that expected journalistic spirit, Missy Robinson sprinted up to the tag champs with her microphone in tow.

“Guys- guys, I hate to bother you- and this would only take a minute, but I would like to request a quick word if that’s possible?”

“Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” Stopping, Nikky turned to face the interviewer with a half-interested look as her boyfriend did the same, already lifting the water container back up to his lips yet again to hydrate his Herculean physique.

Cuing the cameraman, she aimed her first comment at the Beast, “Congratulations, first and foremost, Brad, on racking up another singles victory tonight.”

The Beast looked at the small woman for a second, and then, responded with a grunt and another swig of his water jug.

“He said thank you,” the Wildcat ‘translated’ in her typical brand of dry sarcasm.

“Yes, oh, and I wanted to ask you two about the appearance of those two free agents at ringside. Obviously, they’re not on the active roster, nor are they slated for the Miz’s Battle Royale next week for a possible full-time contract. But they do seem to have some kind of interest in what you both possess at this particular moment.”

“What, success?” Nikky first scoffed at her in a flippant manner.

Knowing that Missy would clarify herself, the Wildcat quickly got down to business. “All seriousness though, who doesn’t have gold on their mind, especially the kind that fits us so damn well? It’s not a surprise. Being on top for so long here, word gets out that we’re the two to beat, and like moths to a flame, here comes new blood to try their luck. And we always accept new challenges...”

But there was a catch, and Nikky was quick to follow it up. “...when they earn the privilege of being our distinguished challengers. Unfortunately, we don’t give handouts here for just buying a ticket to come watch the big boys and girls play. There’s a pecking order, and bush leaguers like them don’t get to cut in line.”

“So that’s your message to them, then?” Missy questioned her.

The brunette sexfighter shrugged her shoulders. “Our message is the same as it is to anyone here. We’ll gladly put the belts up for grabs, when a team rises above the bunch and calls their shot. But those two haven’t earned anything except- oh and speaking of bush leaguers!”

Nikky directed her glare to someone not covered by the frame she was in, prompting the cameraman to turn around to capture the two passing by sexfighters that the Wildcat had brought into the conversation.

Johnny and Tiffany Laurence.

“Well howdy there!” Briefly adopting a mock southern accent in her greeting, the female champion flashed a most (un)welcoming smile at the two Texans now standing on the opposite side of Missy Robinson.

“Champs,” Johnny curtsied them with another tip of his hat, straightening out his brown fringed suede jacket.

Tiffany gave a toss of her hair, noticing the Beast all of a sudden looking like a riled-up bull just waiting for the red flag to wave in front of him.

And that brought a grand smile to her face.

“Hey there, big boy…” she drawled out in a sensual drawl, cupping her breasts knowingly with both hands. “‘Member these? ‘Cuz they sure as hell remember you.”

Nikky predictably put a hand on Brad’s chest, calming him down somewhat.

But the intensity in his stare remained focused on Brandy, the sting from their singles match obviously not fully cleansed from his system.

That steadying hand on Brad’s pectoral muscle slowly traced downwards, easing down his abdomen while Nikky kept her eyes- always so cool and collected, on the step sibling duo.

“I’ve actually been thinking about you guys...” Those eyes switched to Johnny, “More specifically you, cowboy. I was just telling Bradley about how nice I’ve been lately, letting certain people off the hook for things I really shouldn’t be letting them off the hook for. For example, you kicking me in the face a few weeks back.”

Johnny had to have known that was coming.

And, in typical Whiskey fashion, he tried to play off the tension with a disarming smile. “Hell, all’s fair in love and fuckfighting, that’s what our coach used to say. If you’re mad about what happened-”

“Oh I’m not mad.” Nikky now displayed her own smile, one that shone with its own implications. “I appreciate it when people make things...memorable for me. My schedule is so busy nowadays, but when people do things like that, it makes it so easy for me to remember who I still owe attention to. And I’m never one to leave loose ends...loose.”

Johnny nearly gulped at that, despite his outwards grin, but Tiffany didn’t share at all in his slight trepidation.

“We heard you running ya yap about folks needing to step up and show they’re the real deal. And I couldn’t agree more. Folks do need to step up, and if nobody here won’t do it….” Brandy walked around Missy and nearly went face-to-face with the champ herself. “Then we will.”

Nikky was thoroughly nonplussed. “Don’t you have a tournament to go lose in first, dear?”

Tiffany smirked at her. “Who says I can’t have one belt and then come for yours if I feel like it?”

Johnny felt the tension as much as the interviewer did but interrupting his stepsister when she was in “I’m a bad bitch, don’t fuck with me” mode was historically never a good idea.

The Wildcat’s voice was sneeringly calm. “You’re awfully confident for a girl who just got here, what, like two months ago? Who’s had exactly one singles match, one tag match- which she lost quite handily to us, and now...she thinks she can go the distance. I think that’s hilarious.”

“I think I can do a lot of things.” Brandy wasn’t backing off, her eyes flickering briefly up to Nikky’s towering and glowering partner. “Folks said I couldn’t beat the Beast. I did. Who says I can’t walk into that whole deal, beat the shit out of anyone standing across from me, and rip that title away from Cutthroat’s arms?”

“Basic logic.” The Wildcat barely wasted a breath in her cool retort. “You’re going up against people who’ve had dozens upon dozens of matches in this company without someone to tag out to. That means they didn’t need cheerleaders like the Texas Ranger over here in their corner saying what a good job they're doing in the ring. So, you’re already out of your depth there. Not to mention the fact that I have personally been in the ring with most of the people that have qualified so far. And if I struggled- somewhat, to put them away in the end, then your chances of making it far are exactly less than zero fucking percent.”

The blonde woman balked at that prediction, but she couldn’t ignore what Nikky said next, “But I do wish you and your big bro luck. Not just tonight, but in the brackets if he can get past that triple threat I’m hearing about. Whiskey vs Brandy is one hell of a marquee match, especially…”

Her eyes flickered between the two step siblings, her lips curled in her signature smug expression as she fingered the nameplate on her title. “...especially once you both realize, that family’s one thing. But gold is everything.”

Brandy was struck, unable to shoot from the hip with a reply.

However, she never got a chance to because the entrance music of their opponents, the Beach Babes, started to bleed in backstage from the arena loudspeakers.

Johnny silently nudged his partner from behind. “Alright, we gotta go.”

“.....yeah.” She grudgingly acknowledged him, still staring down the Wildcat.

Smiling from corner to corner, Nikky turned her back to Tiffany, a statement in itself.

Looking over her shoulder, she remarked almost casually to the San Antonio native. “Be a real shame...”

Tiffany scoffed, brushing off Johnny’s hand on her shoulder. “Be a real shame about what, huh?”

Her back still to the blonde woman, Nikky continued on, “Oh, y’know, just that it would suck so much to come all this way, so far away from all your trailer park friends, and have this…” She traced her black painted fingertips down her championship belt, within grabbing distance of Brandy. “Be the closest you ever get to a real title.”

“I’ll show you close.” Biting down hard on that bait, Tiffany nearly lunged at the Wildcat but for her quick acting brother to hold her back by the arm.

The Beast smirked at how easily his girlfriend nearly provoked a reaction from the Texan, commenting in parting, “Doesn’t take much for you hicks, huh?”

“This hick’ll fuck you up again, big boy,” Tiffany vowed, determined eyes staring at him next while Whiskey did his part keeping them apart.

Again, the music continued to sound within the arena, the announcer’s voice starting to boom in to announce the start of the next match.

Downing another swig of his jug, Brad only smiled, pecs still flexing with violent desire.

“Hmmmm, so temperamental.” Nikky’s smugness was apparent with every movement she took, every word so saliently pronounced. “You should really work on that, Hannah Montana.”

“Don’t...don’t fucking call me that!” Tiffany could spit and snarl all she wanted, but the Wildcat and her Beast were already leaving, commanding a loosely gathered crowd of spectating sexfighters to part to the side as they ventured past them into a hallway.

“Save it for the ring.” His hand on her shoulder, Johnny started to lead her towards the sound of the music, to where the crowd were presumably cheering on their opponents now in the ring.

“I know, I know, I just….” Reluctantly tearing her eyes from the departing champions, Tiffany went along with her partner as a nearby ringhand ushered them towards the curtains area. “....got carried away.”

He shrugged, knowing her like he did. “Yeah, I figured. Like I said, we’ll show ‘em the business soon enough. Let’s do what we gotta do right now.”


***


Cindy Love and Lexi Lust were posing on opposite corners of the ring, blowing kisses to the crowd while the ring announcer remained in the middle of the ring.

The blue-haired sexfighter to his right was wearing a bra-and-panties design matching her dyed hair choice, even down to her nails sparking with an electric blue.

Lexi, on the other hand, wore a sparkling gold one-piece bodysuit (evoking her common moniker of the Golden Girl) with a seductive V-neck trailing all the way down to her belly button, lustfully shaping her cleavage with more than enough exposed skin in the middle while her limbs were otherwise bare.

Hopping down the ring at near the identical time, they high fived and then turned to the top of the ramp.

Watching, and waiting for-

“Light the fuse and run now brother ‘cause you ain't got a lot of time…”

Coming out of the curtains, Southern Comfort had the crowd on their feet from the second their southern rock theme hit.

And once it kicked into full musical gear, the cheers kept on coming.

Leading first with her big, bold, and beautiful rack clothed in proud Americana colors, Tiffany swung her hips to a quite raucous crowd ovation, perhaps one of the loudest in the night so far.

With one handle, she grasped the handle of a small white cooler, containing perhaps some of their favorite alcoholic beverages.

Bringing up her rear, the dark-haired Johnny got his lay of the land, moving from one end of the stage to another simply admiring the supportive roar of the fans in attendance.

And the roar was certainly loud even for their experienced, road-worn ears.

From novelty Stetson hats to signs displaying anything from Redneck and Proud or Throw Me a Beer, their fans were certainly visible and in high numbers.

Higher, perhaps, than even the commentators could’ve anticipated.


***


“You can look out at the signs, or listen to the people, but the evidence is everywhere, folks: The Lawrence duo is a very popular act here with the crowd. And even if you’re a first time watcher, it would be very hard to deny this connection and goodwill they seemed to have built with the crowd already.”

“I’d tip a hat to that as well.” Watching them near the base of the ramp, Kevin only had a few other additional observations to make. “In Johnny’s match against Achara, our colleague, Caroline, who frequently leads her guest analytics for select matches out of the bunch each week, brought up their background with the Southwest Sexfighting Association, which is of course based out of Texas. And even if you haven’t seen much of their tenure on the independents, she mentioned that there’s a lot carried over that you can identify here and now. For example, they work that hard-hitting style, go balls to the wall against just about anyone, but ultimately, they’re damn fun to watch. Tiffany seems to be all about throwing bodies around like it’s Happy Hour at my favorite bar, while Johnny can bring out that more sensitive, sensual side in just about anyone he’s in the ring with.”

Shimmying out of his jacket, Whiskey handed it to a nearby crew member and sprinted up the steps, followed by his stepsister once she cupped her breasts for a sultry photo-op with a few fans on the side barricade.

Wiping his boots off on the ring apron, he stepped in between the ropes with Cindy and Lexi watching with strategizing eyes.

The all-female duo were certainly eyeing up the only male member of their opposition with saucy eyes, perhaps a hint toward their true plan.

“So what else can you tell us about this team?”

“As I hinted at earlier, they both have something different to bring to the table, which is a crucial ingredient in every successful tag team. You want a diversity of styles, not two people being equally proficient at the same skillset. In this case, you’ve got a powerhouse with tits in Tiffany, someone who can physically handle just about any challenge- male or female, thrown in their path. That was evidenced with the Beast qualifying match we were all witness to some weeks ago. Then, you’ve got Johnny, who fills the high-flyer role very nicely from what we’ve seen. And also, he covers the martial arts base some if you watched that singles match he had with the Viper last week. And that little lady can kick a man’s soul right out of his body if her mind’s right.”

George also contributed his insight, “Indeed, Achara is a formidable foe, but she was only one woman, albeit highly capable and proficient in her craft. This is two-on-two, traditional tag team rules apply, so we’ll see just how well this rookie tag team can do on their second outing together in an SFL ring.”


***


The music died down once the main chorus started to loop back around, leaving the overall atmosphere of the match scored only by the crowd noise.

Johnny, already in the ring, jumped lightly in place to signify that he would be the legal participant to begin the contest.

On the other side, Lexi Lust finished up a rather seductive split legged pose on the mat, her tanned legs spread wide while Cindy was giving him plenty of ‘fuck me later’ eyes standing on the ring apron.

Luckily for her, he had plenty of ammo in the ol’ six (or seven) shooter to take care of that lusting.

But for now, he needed to focus on the blonde woman in the ring with him now, her equally sultry look seeming to hone in on the bulge in his-

“You better not let her get in ya head like the last one,” Tiffany snorted out right next to him, interrupting his mental focus for a second (again, per usual).

As the referee held the ropes open for the ring announcer to exit, Johnny had just a few seconds to grate out his response to her, “Ain’t gonna be like last time. My head’s screwed on straight.”

“She’s hot, though. Seems like a regular around these parts.” Tiffany was talking with complete casualness now, leaning against the ropes as he took off his hat. “Maybe she won’t leave you like Nakoma-”

“Tiff, I said I got this,” Johnny reiterated to his dear sister, rubbing around his neck some. “We’re gonna stick to the plan, alright?”

“Oh, you mean the one where you get your ass kicked for like five minutes and then you bail out to let me handle shit?” she shot back at him playfully.

He looked at her for a solid second, then ultimately shrugged. “Yeah, that one.”

“Attaboy.” She patted him encouragingly on the shoulder as the striped official called for the bell.

Pushing himself out of the corner and into the open battlefield, Johnny’s forward advance was met by Lexi bringing herself up to her feet and quickly matching his pace.

Staying close to the ropes, the ref watched the two circle around in the traditional opening revolutions, while the fans all around sat down.

Whiskey managed his movements with ease, lightly padding on the mat with his dark eyes closing in around the blonde woman.

Plenty of anticipation was being built up in them just darting in and out of range, making the crowd savor for the initial contact.

And all that anticipation had to have a blow off eventually...

“C’mon!” Signaling with his stance first, Johnny lunged in to close in the circle, Lexi having no choice but to react or retreat.

And she chose the latter option, clashing with him in a collar-and-elbow tie up.

Towering above her easily, there was little doubt that Whiskey held a physical advantage after the first test of her upper body strength against his own.

But Lexi tried the darndest to match him, digging her heels in to stave off the inevitable.

Unfortunately for her, the inevitable still came.

Slyly slipping one arm underneath her shoulder, he sharply twisted over to the mat, flipping over the golden-haired sexfighter in an arm drag mid-grapple.

On one knee, he had that same limb trapped under his armpit in a holding armlock, his muscled calf hovering just inches above her straining face.

He held her arm in a torqued shape for a moment, maybe longer, if only to get some fleeting amusement out of her legs kicking out helplessly in front of him.

Then, he grabbed her around the hair and led her back up to her feet, back to a similar grappling position that they started in.

Unequivocally in control now, he ensured that she had her feet under her before promptly throwing his weight down to the mat to hurl Lexi for a second consecutive arm drag.

She cried out yet again as the impact hit, her tailbone taking the brunt of that.

Only halfway through chaining sequences together, Johnny brought her up once more by the hair, leading her head under his armpit this time while he draped an arm over his shoulder.

Lifting her up into a vertical position above the air, he walked forward a few steps, dipped slightly in that same direction so that her torso could bounce off the top ring rope before using that same momentum to swing her back overhead and backwards to the mat.

Cindy nearly covered her eyes as her tag partner was driven back and shoulders-first into the canvas, courtesy of the slingshot suplex.

And Lexi felt even worse, arching her back painfully against the flat surface.

Sitting up, Johnny rotated around his left arm some, soaking in a bit of applause from that connected flurry of offense.

Then, without hesitation the Texan man floated over on top of Lexi, still flat on her back.

Slipping one arm under her neck, he pulled her into a side headlock, squeezing his biceps accordingly to apply pressure.

Her legs kicked out again, but Johnny just leaned into the hold, leveraging his weight against hers.

Going from pedaling an invisible bicycle in the air to trying to claw and paw at his face, there was definitely no shortage of options for the golden-haired member of the Beach Babes.

But no matter what she did to throw him off, he held onto that slender neck, wrenching around it with controlled squeezes of his forearm.

“Nice perfume,” he remarked, a natural comment to make given their close proximity.

This came right before she attempted to stick her fingers in any possible opening on his face, from his nose to his mouth, even his-

“Nope, can’t be having that, darling.” He easily shook off another desperate attempt to tug at his earlobes, his smile still withstanding her frantic efforts.

More resistance from her, most notably her bucking hips, eventually did force him to take things to a higher position.

Still keeping the headlock cinched in, he rose of his own accord, not letting her wriggle free while he tucked one leg under him.

“Come on Lexi…” Cindy stressed out her support from their corner of the ring, but those words were not immediately acted upon by the legal woman still held in his tight vice.

Both competitors were standing, but only one of them was in control.

Keeping her glued to his naked torso, Johnny had another quip ready to go but then a growing chant touched his ears: “Let’s go Whiskey!”

“....hell yeah.” The brunette man smiled out at the chants becoming louder and louder, right as she began peppering his sides with desperation punches.

The high flyer of the southern duo grunted out as more and more free hits landed on his unprotected abdomen, threatening to loosen his grip over her.

But that control was easily reinforced when he turned into her thrashing body, grabbing between her legs with one hand and then lifting her into the air in an upside-down position.

Everyone in the area knew what was coming, but it didn’t make it any less painful on Lexi when he dropped her backfirst with a swift scoop slam!

Her body slammed down on the mat, forcing a loud cry from the lips of the sprawled out blonde.

Standing up for a second, Johnny even bounced in place just to savor the full impact.

Tiffany offered some modest applause but mainly an eye roll at her stepbrother once more playing up his sense of showmanship.

Quickly guiding her up by the hair, he clasped one of her wrists and then shot the slender blonde off into the ropes, watching for the rebound.

While Lexi did hit the ropes, her arms instinctively looped around the cables to halt her momentum sharply, anchoring her to that side of the ring.

No longer anticipating her rebound, Johnny brought his offense to her instead, looking for a clothesline over the top as he ran…right into her raised foot.

Putting her other foot up on the bottom rope to make her strike level with his face, she managed to stagger the Texan with a solid blow right to the chin.

Cindy clapped on with delight at the dark-haired man retreating back a few steps towards the center, giving her partner enough time to push off the ropes and further her momentum.

Though groggy, his senses were still sharp, and he quickly moved like lightning to grab at her body just as she got close enough-

“See ya!” Lifting her entire body up just with his dominant shoulder, Whiskey sent Lexi flying overhead with a sizable back body drop, utilizing that same rush of momentum for his own use.

Arms and legs flailed wildly in the air, but gravity ultimately took the blonde woman down on the mat behind him, causing a slight shake under his booted feet.

He didn’t even have to turn around to imagine her face, the groaning sounds hitting his ears just now painting that picture perfectly well.

But he did turn around, sporting a wide grin to see the blonde rolling away from him, her back still arched as she set a brief reprise under the bottom rope.

“Still not as high as mine,” Tiffany jabbed at him from the ring apron, obviously noting the slight difference in altitude between their back body drops.

Noting that was an understatement, Johnny shrugged his shoulders, “Hey, I’m trying to win a match here, sis. Not send the woman to the moon.”

Brandy gave a flip of her hair. “Then win the match and stop showboating around. Those beers ain’t gonna drink themselves.”

Smirking at his partner’s infamously short fuse, he resumed his normal pace circling back around to Lexi now on the outside.

Climbing up on the apron using the ropes, she seemed pretty unsteady enough from the high elevation and subsequent high impact.

But as unsteady as she seemed…

“Gah!” She wasn’t unsteady enough to grab him around the neck in a three-quarter facelock as soon as he started to set up for another suplex, forcibly pulling his jaw into the top rope for a painful snapping effect.

The rope-assisted jawbreaker sent Whiskey stumbling back towards the center of the ring, grabbing at his mouth while Lexi now sat on the ring apron, buying herself more time to recover.

Tiffany nearly facepalmed as Johnny took a knee in the center, massaging his jaw some while the blonde woman slowly pulled herself up to a standing position.

Johnny could feel the irritable gaze of his step sister almost burning into one side of his face, but from the other side, he detected movement.

Both hands gripping the top rope, she threw back her hair, revealing a daring sparkle in her eyes.

Pulling back once he started to rise, she leveraged herself up into an upwards bounce, springboarding off the ropes and launching herself back into the ring, both arms over her head coming together to form an axe handle.

Each of their respective partners looked on as Lexi Lust landed hard…crotchfirst on his bended knee!

Dropping into a kneel at the last second, the Laurence step sibling lured the blonde woman right into an impromptu inverted atomic drop, barely needing to guide her descent at all since she practically fell right on his thigh.

From in the air to hopping off his thigh in an immediate turnaround, Lexi stumbled back with both hands tending to her groin area.

An amused chuckle rippled through the crowd just at her almost comical reaction, captured right up on the big screen.

But something else that was captured was Whiskey slowly rising up behind her, waiting and waiting for her to turn back around and receive-

“Woooooo!” The move patented and made famous by the Nature Boy was now performed to great effect by the Texan man, a knife edge chop crackling right across her chest.

Crying out, the move nearly left her completely wobbly just from the singular impact, barely able to balance herself on her heels.

And her sense of balance would be further pushed over the edge as he slapped another thunderous chop across her sternum to knock the blonde woman down to the mat.

Flopping over on her belly, she grabbed at her breast for a painful and not very pleasant second.

And there Johnny was, still standing over the female sexfighter with his normally optimistic grin.

Getting a read on the crowd, he suddenly pointed at Tiffany, which garnered an extremely positive reaction.

Deciding right then, he gathered his opponent up by the hair and marched her over to the ropes adjacent to their corner of the ring.

With an open hand, he offered it to his partner, who gladly took it.

“Tag!” The referee signaled the official change as Brandy stepped into the ring for the first time.

Smiling out at the very noticeable increase in noise at her now legal presence, the blonde woman stood at the ready while Johnny, fixing her with a slight smirk, took Lexi by the wrist and Irish whipped her into the opposite side of the ring.

The two southern sexfighters took up a familiar position with Tiffany behind Johnny, who was now standing near the center of the ring to anticipate the rebound.

Once Lexi bounced off the cables, he delivered a slightly slower-than-usual knife edge chop, giving the smaller woman just enough time to duck under…

… and get scooped off by Brandy as soon as she ducked his forearm.

With utmost ease, the bigger blonde woman pivoted sharply to the side and then slammed Lexi Lust squarely into the mat with a vicious spinebuster!

Going down to her knees just gave the proud Texan an even greater sense of the resounding impact now reverberating up Lexi’s spine and across her face.

Leaning back some, she smoothed out her blonde hair some and playfully shooed away her stepbrother with a hand wave.

“Glory hog.” With one last parting shot of sibling banter, he exited unto the ring apron, leaving just Tiffany and his opponent (a combination which historically doesn’t work out too well for the former).

Case in point…

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Cinderella.” Amidst all Lexi’s writhing and wincing, Tiffany’s tone was completely conversational. “My idiot brother, for whatever reason, thinks you’re kinda cute. I can tell ‘cuz he was going easy on your skinny behind. So, I’m just gonna mess up everything you got below the neck, try and leave that face as pretty as I found it. Reckon that’s a good deal, huh?”

Lexi’s full response was a sustained and audible, “Uggghhhhh….”

The Texan woman nodded in complete understanding. “Then we got a deal, unless you piss me off. Come on, I want to show ya something.”

On her feet already, Tiffany took control of one of Lexi’s ankles, dragging the one away from their corner and towards the neutral center.

From there, she had a hand full of hair dragging the smaller blonde up before she was even close to being ready.

Bringing her opponent’s face nearly level with her solid D-cup, Tiffany looked from right to left, then left to right, and finally….

“Here ya go!!” With one steadying hand on the back of Lexi’s head, Brandy submerged the blonde woman in the infamous crevice right between her tits.

The Texan swept the shorter woman up in her fleshy embrace, her hulking breasts covering Lexi’s face entirely, cutting off the air with a subtle veneer of aggression settling in.

Once those breasts concealed her vision like a solar eclipse, those familiar struggling efforts battled against the southern woman’s torso.

Tiffany made a comforting ‘shhhhh’ sound as she bore down with her heavy tits, squishing her face right within her plumb and perfectly shaped melons.

“Whatya think? Been trying to work on my technique since I got here, since apparently I’m not the only girl with blonde hair who likes to do this with her tits.” She playfully (yet powerfully) motorboated against Cindy’s squirming face, further consuming the trapped woman’s remaining oxygen supply.
“Appreciate you giving me a tap or two to tell me how effective it is, alright sug?”

Cindy did make contact, though it wasn’t the kind that the Laurence woman was expecting.

Petite fists immediately peppered against her bare midriff, trying to force a release but Tiffany made the Golden Girl work for it.

She made her work harder and harder…

“Nnnyyaah!” Then, with a frantic gasp, Lexi Lust was finally free.

A desperate shove was all that was needed to free herself from the cavernous prison, a move that sparked some negative feedback from the fans.

“Or you could do that.” Tiffany shrugged out as the blonde woman sought cover against the ropes, clinging on to them while refreshing up her face. “Fine, we can draw this out if you want.”

Making her way over, she reached out to grab on to some hair, but was met by a sudden gut kick instead from Lexi.

Cindy’s face lit up as her partner retaliated in quick succession with another kick to the abdomen while leaning against the cables.

Pushing off them, she managed to score a grazing forearm to Brandy’s jawline, which in turn provoked its own reaction, namely a very violent one.

Tiffany took exactly one step back before retaking that step and shooting her knee right into Cindy’s exposed midriff for a change.

Measuring her next strike after the knee thrust, she nearly crumpled the Golden Girl with a vicious European uppercut that put her right back against the ropes, both literally and figuratively.

Seeing the blonde woman somewhat calm down after that staggering blow, Tiffany was encouraged enough to whip her into the ropes for…exactly nothing because Lexi twisted out of it halfway through.

Able to slap away Tiffany’s leading forearm, she suddenly went up on her tiptoes, placing her shoulder under the Texan’s jaw with both hands interlocking behind her neck.

Holding the statuesque blonde in place for the briefest of seconds, Lexi suddenly fell into a sitting position, painfully driving her lower jaw right into that stretch of bone and flesh!

Tiffany’s head snapped back as the shoulder jawbreaker registered, even bringing her down to a knee while Lexi rolled out from under her.

She rolled and rolled, until finally making the tag to her partner before collapsing to tend to her aching body.

As soon as it was recognized, Cindy ducked under the middle rope and immediately made a beeline towards the half-kneeling Brandy.

Reaching the kneeling woman within seconds, she reached out with both hands to grab her, but at that exact moment, there was nothing to grab.

But Tiffany did grab her from behind with a lightning quick slip-and-sidestep.

Easily cinching in a rear waistlock, she swiftly bridged backwards and delivered a snap German suplex that immediately dropped the blue-haired woman right on her neck.

Almost instantaneously, Cindy Love went from on her feet and running to flat on her face and ass up.

The crowd loved that visual.

Even Johnny couldn’t exactly ignore the….interesting positioning that the formerly fresh woman was now sprawled out in, even if unintentionally.

“Whew, that’s what I’m talking about!” He offered some ‘supportive’ clapping for his step sister, who sat up and fixed in with a brief glower once she finished cradling her chin.

“Ah shut up…” Getting to her feet, the busty blonde looked at Lexi, barely able to stand out on the ring apron, and then, back down at the woman she just tagged in to share in the whipping.


***


“I hate to say she walked right into that one, but…..yeah, she walked right into that one.” George had to call a spade a spade there. “You see the snap off that throw, Kev? You could break a block of wood in half with that kind of force.”

Even now, Cindy was still facedown on the mat, stumped entirely by the surprise German out of nowhere.

But she wouldn’t remain there long, because Tiffany was already hauling her back up.

“Sure did. You could also break a woman’s spirit if you keep that kind of punishment up, and I’ve a feeling that’s exactly what that young lady is doing- oh wow, another one!” Kevin interrupted himself mid-sentence to witness Brandy delivering an exploder suplex for another thudding impact on the ring mat.

Once Cindy finished her initial yelp, he was able to continue, “And this is just a taste of what the other competitors in that tournament can look forward to if they draw her number. Pure physicality mixed in with that seductive southern charm, not unlike that of Jesse Belle.”

George nodded with Tiffany not letting Cindy much of a respite in between throws, dragging her off the mat yet again. “Yeah, many fans have undoubtedly noticed that there are a few similarities between the two. But besides the obvious geographical connection in that they’re both from the South, both ladies do bring something very different to the table. And you’ll see plenty of that distinction here tonight.”


***


One hand gripped onto her opponent’s vibrant locks, and the other wrapped around her belly to bring her up to a full stand.

Then, those two hands came together in an interlaced grip, pushing ever so gently Cindy Love right against her jutting breasts.

Now that they were belly-to-back, the ultimate outcome was inevitable…

… and just as painful for the colorfully haired sexfighter to endure as Tiffany delivered a German suplex once more, this time arching her back gracefully to concentrate the impact on her shoulders and neck.

On her feet now, Lexi grimaced out of sympathy as her partner hit the mat once more, and even worse, Brandy was still holding on to her waist.

Hoisting up the lighter-weighed woman with a grunting effort, the blonde Texan reaffirmed the waistlock, and then slammed Cindy overhead once again for a second consecutive German.

The thundering sound of flesh against met prompted different reactions from their respective partners: positive on the side of Southern Comfort, and less-so on the side of the SFL home-grown talent.

Johnny was already riling the fans up as Tiffany rolled back up to her feet, holding the blue-haired woman tight while she was looking to complete the trifecta.

He was halfway counting down the third consecutive German when Cindy suddenly lashed out with a desperate back elbow to force a break.

Though not deterred by this initial hit, a second one catching her right on the nose forced a bit of a falter in the Texan woman.

Still struggling to unlock herself from the clench, the blue-haired woman rattled Brandy with a third elbow shot, and then promptly cried out in pain as Tiffany now retaliated with a clubbing blow on the back of her neck once she was close to being free.

Regaining control of things in her usual violent way, the busty woman tucked her head underneath Cindy’s armpit, and lifted her up for a back suplex instead.

The lift was delivered succinctly enough, but the slender powerhouse’s control ended right in mid-air.

Maneuvering herself into a backflip instead of doing the flat bump, her opponent managed to land on her feet instead.

With a vengeful snarl, she grabbed hold of Tiffany’s flowing blonde locks, yanking back hard to slam Brandy on the mat.

Taken off her feet without warning, Brandy felt the hardness of the mat for the first time, and just like always, it was not a very pleasant feeling.

Even less pleasant was Cindy suddenly dragging her back up using her hair before she could reorient herself.

“Think you need a timeout, country girl…” Turning around, the pale woman smiled through her own grimace. “I want to play with tall, dark, and handsome over there.”

“Nggghh….he ain’t that hand-oh!” Mid-sentence, Brandy was suddenly thrown through the ropes and to the outside of the ring.

Landing without a clear eye on where she was going, the Laurence woman nearly faceplanted right on the floor, her grunting face capturing some of the cameraman’s attention before going back up to Cindy Love still inside the ring.

Having to go down to her knees just to toss the woman out, she slowly craned her head back over one shoulder to see Johnny Laurence, slightly concerned for his partner.

And that made her pout, because he wasn’t paying her any attention.

Seeking to remedy that, the blue-haired woman turned on her inner seductress, crawling like a dog in heat towards Whiskey.

Her hair matching with her attire only seemed to give her an almost fairy-like quality accompanying this stride across the ring, with Tiffany still making her way up on the ring apron.

And when she was able to look inside, well, she didn’t much like what she saw.

“...mmmmm, I do love a southern gentleman.” Slinking up to her feet, Cindy stood just inches away from Johnny now.

Her lips open in a desirable purr, she sensually teased out the firmness of her chest, the curves of her waistline right in front of him.

“Glad you think I’m gentle.” He offered a somewhat gracious smile with the woman still showing off in front of him.

“Oh, I think you’re a lot of things…” she continued to utter out with seductive relish, inching closer to him.

Johnny Laurence continued to smile….but it wasn’t aimed at her.

“Yeah, shame the girl behind you ain’t so gentle,” he suddenly said.

Cindy’s smile faded. “What do you-aaahhh!”

Latching on to those blue locks from behind, Tiffany wrenched her away from her stepbrother, forcing the squealing woman to come face-to-face with her incensed glare.

“Shoulda jumped on me when you had the chance, girlfriend. ‘Cuz now I’m just gonna beat the-”

Slap!

Breaking free of Tiffany’s grip, Cindy lashed out with an open-handed smack right to Tiffany’s cheek, briefly snapping the Texan’s head back.

The crowd gave a hushed reaction at her unplanned and instinctive move of resistance, but Whiskey’s groaning reaction was much more telling.

It was of genuine sympathy.

Shaking his head, he sighed out loud, “Shouldn’t have done that.”

Then, Tiffany twisted her head back to stare daggers right at Cindy Love.

Lexi’s shouts weren’t getting through to the absolutely shell-shocked woman…

… but Brandy’s sudden clothesline certainly did!

Springing right into action, her forearm nearly knocked the blue-haired sexfighter right out of her bra and panties.

Hitting the mat before she even knew what hit her, the pale woman barely knew which way was up and which was down as the blonde woman dragged her up just seconds after the fact.

With a loud snarl, she threw Cindy into the ropes with little pretense of form or technique behind it.

The woman didn’t have a choice but to run with the momentum, and so she did, bouncing off the ropes and only by sheer instinct ducked Brandy’s second clothesline.

Hitting the ropes again, she managed to avoid contact once more by ducking the southern woman’s knife chop, getting more speed on her heels as she came off the opposite set of ropes to then get all of Tiffany Laurence right in her face!

Knocking the slender woman to the mat with an emphatic Lou Thesz press, she rained down a hailstorm of punishment with hard rights and lefts…..absolutely pummeling the woman!

The crowd cheered on from all four directions as the hits kept on coming and coming, all landing soundly all over Cindy’s screaming, protesting face.

And certainly, their cheers were amplified by the fact that Tiffany’s breasts were jiggling ever so visibly against her patriotic bra as more and more shots poured down.

Johnny’s light applause accompanied the last burst of sustained punches to be inflicted upon the blue-haired woman before his partner finally got up, shaking out her bare knuckles some from the raw contact.

Her booted feet clicked all around the prone body of her opponent, walking a wide circle all around as the crowd had a chance to calm down from that flurry of fists.

Cindy, of course, was more preoccupied with the swelling in her cheekbones calming down, massaging her face some while her legs reflexively straightened and kicked out groggily.

Getting to a good stopping point, Tiffany looked at the crowd for a second, searching for their encouragement, and once it was found, she was in motion.

Snatching up Cindy Love’s vibrant locks, she gave a forceful tug to bring the sexfighter up to a stand.

Practically womanhandling her by this point, she grabbed a hand and promptly Irish whipped her in the ropes adjacent to the Beach Babes’ corner.

Lowering her head, Laurence prepped for an obvious back body setup... which quickly worked against her in the form of a countering soccer-style kick right to the bridge of the nose!

Narrowly previewing her impactful fate seconds ahead of time, she managed to snap her front leg right into Brandy’s face the second she reentered throwing range, staggering the bigger woman.

It was a loud smack from the relatively still groggy woman, who was still dealing with her own throbbing, well, everything, but it was a small advantage that she would take, nonetheless.

Going backwards to get a slight bounce from the ropes, the pale sexfighter then downed Brandy with a shotgun dropkick right to the sternum.

Both feet, bared and full of surprising power, nearly put a dent right into Tiffany Laurence’s bosom.

And just like a tipped over elephant, the proud Texan’s descent was quite a remarkable thing to see for such a well-built woman, her hands immediately going up to clutch her clothed orbs.

The dropkick put both women down, but while as the blonde woman was grabbing at her chest with subtle anguish, Cindy was somewhat more spirited in her recovery.

Johnny immediately offered his hand for a tag, but Brandy waved him off, working on getting back up without help.

The same was not true for her opponent, who was more than happy to claw and climb her way back to her corner.

Slapping Lexi’s open palm, she momentary relieved herself of duty while her blonde partner stepped up to take the burden.

Watching Tiffany gradually rise, the Golden Girl remained in a ready stance, subtly signaling to Cindy who used the turnbuckles to pull herself.

And once the Laurence woman was up, she turned to receive yet another kick- only this time, it was a side thrust kick right to her sternum.

Gasping out sharply, she dropped down to a knee, nearly hunched over at the unsuspecting blow right to her windbag….

…. putting her in prime position for Cindy Love, operating within the 30-second double team window, to sprint towards her.

Partially leapfrogging over Tiffany’s bent over form, she grabbed the blonde woman in a waistlock from above while her legs were under the busty sexfighter’s shoulders, giving herself a mid-move jump off the mat to roll into her signature sunset flip-

“Nnnggghh!” With a defiant grunt, Brandy suddenly straightened right out of the acrobatic move while it was still in progress, abruptly stonewalling her opponent now caught in mid-air.

Already prematurely celebrating the delivery of Cindy’s patented Code Blue, Lexi turned around to a completely different visual entirely: Tiffany Laurence standing straight with her partner held helplessly upside-down with her legs over her shoulders instead of under them, and two firm hands gripping on to the blue-haired woman’s thighs to keep her hoisted up.

“Shit!” Horror lingered for a second, before she sprang forward to take action….and ate a big boot right to the face!

Lexi immediately went flat as a pancake, eyes inheriting that glossy, faraway glint as soon as the leather taste of Tiffany’s shoe entered her mouth.

And all this, while Cindy Love was still held upside-down on her shoulders.

“Got ‘em!” Johnny was as much a spectator as everyone else in the arena by this point, watching on as his stepsister effortlessly kept the lightweight athlete over her shoulders still, looking down at the dazed blonde at her feet, and then….

“Hah!” Knocking out two birds with one stone, Tiffany snapped forwards on Cindy’s lower body, hurling the woman back-first onto her partner’s torso in an Alabama slam!

Both of her opponents each felt the pain in their own unique ways, with Lexi unquestionably taking the brunt of the full 270-degree rotation.

Rolling groggily off her bodysuit, the blue-haired woman was more or less a ragdoll as Tiffany promptly stepped over her and focused on the legal woman, who was deflated completely.

Going down to her knees, she draped the nearest leg of Lexi Lust over her shoulder and then lifted herself back up.

Using both arms to force the shin and thigh of the captive leg down, she began cranking down hard on the limb, forcing an immediate reaction from the already disoriented woman.

Coming alive only in excruciatingly animated movement, the blonde woman howled out as Tiffany Laurence applied the submission move that had forced many a proud man and woman before to tap…

… and now, would add Lexi to that long list as she frantically pounded the mat in surrender.

Within just seconds, and without even adding in the sexual element to the maneuver, it was over.

She promptly released the leg and stood up as the referee communicated her decision upon ringing of the bell.

“Damn straight.” Nodding proudly, she pumped one fist into the air triumphantly, leaving both women laid out next to each other in shared agony and disbelief.

Turning to the camera, Johnny Laurence simply gave a bemused What can you do? shrug once the official decision was sounded out by the announcer, “Winner of the first fall with her Pump Action stretch muffler submission…..BRANDY!!!”

Whatever the commentators were saying didn’t matter to Brandy at that moment; the only thing that did, was the roar of the crowd.

She lived for that.

“Ride ain’t through yet, ladies,” she winked at her sprawled-out opponents. “Get you a little breather, though. I’ll be back to brand both your asses a little later.”

Then, she sauntered back to Whiskey, leaving them in that state of physical and mental disarray.

Meeting his high five, she leaned back against the buckles.

He smirked at her, “Feel good?”

“I’d feel fucking fantastic if I coulda slapped the smug right off Wildcat’s face behind the curtain, but yeah….this was alright,” she told him candidly.

“Well alright then.” He rolled his head around some, feeling out her next response. “I’m starting the next round, aren’t I?”

“Damn straight you are.”

_______________________________________


AN: And we are still trucking along...

- This is a minor correction both retroactively and going forwards: Johnny's ring name is really Whiskey, not Tequila. Got those two mixed up with the Texans' previous appearances in this story, but suffice to say, his name will be Whiskey going forward (thanks @[Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]).

- Models: Tiffany Laurence (Jordan Carver), Johnny Laurence (Jason Douglas), Cindy Love (Jewelz Blu), Lexi Love (Sydney Cole).

- Hope you guys are still enjoying the continued developments, and hopefully what's still to come down the pipeline.
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Default Tales of the Sex Fighting League: Southern Hospitality

“The oven is turned back on, and we are cooking once again, folks. Johnny for Southern Comfort, starting off against Cindy Love, who seems to have shaken off the effects of that two-for-one human demolition derby that befell her and her tag partner last fall. Will be very interesting to see if the Beach Babes can even up the score table.”

“Interesting indeed. And just as a reminder, this match and so many more tonight is brought to you by…”


The plugging of the sponsors behind the show usually never ceased to amuse Melanie Taylor, but she wasn’t in her usual happy mood.

A good indication of that was the measured intensity in which she aimed her next volley of assorted kicks at the empty air in front of her.

Standing in one of the central hallways leading into the main staging area behind the curtain, she watched out of her periphery the tag match up on a hanging television monitor.

Ironically enough, Johnny seemed to be somewhat matching her stance as Cindy walked- or rather ran, right into a round kick to her hamstring, followed shortly by another one, and well, one gets the idea.

Her entrance jacket clinging on to her active body, she was fully immersed in yet another self-training kickboxing exercise with the time to her own match still counting down.

“Right.” Muttering softly, she went high with that leg.

“Then left.” Ignoring the high-pitched yelps from Whiskey’s opponent, she followed up with the other leg.

“Right again.” This time, a practiced knee thrust right into an imaginary person (preferably Chelsea’s) gut.

“Then le-”

“Good form.”

“Whoa!” Jolted out of her concentrated state, the petite blonde whirled around at the sound of the (seemingly) approving voice from behind.

Experience- very painful past experiences, should’ve taught her to always be on guard, but she was caught, surprised by none other than…

“....whoa.” This time, she spoke in a much more understated fashion, mere feet away from the Lady of Madrid herself.

Angelina Tomas was smiling at her (something that could either be very good or very bad), hands clasped behind her back in a courteous position.

The veteran with years of overseas tenure, who had kicked in the faces of hundreds of dudes with names she couldn’t even pretend to pronounce, was standing….right….there.

It took a solid second for Melanie to remember proper etiquette, fumbling to extend one hand, “Oh, hi, I’m-”

La Conejita,” Angelina shook her hand with a gracious smile. “Yes, La Dama knows who you are. And I have been impressed with what I have seen.”

Melanie took another second to register that….wait, was that a compliment?

“Wow, thanks. Yeah, I appreciate that so much.” She relaxed a little bit now.

“You are nerviosa- ah, nervous for tonight, aren’t you?” Angelina observed shrewdly.

How’s you guess? Though not repeating that exact language out loud, Mel confided somewhat cynically in the older, more traveled woman. “Just the healthy amount of crippling self-doubt, y’know. Everyone gets it eventually.”

“Ah, .” Angelina nodded, as if agreeing with her.

….. right.

Mel didn’t even want to broach the next logical question, but something about being in the presence of this powerful, almost regal woman, well, it almost put her at ease.

“Have you...you know, had doubt? Before a match?”

“Many times,” Tomas answered her calmly, not even hesitating. “And many times, I have won those matches. If you are not unsure of yourself, then you have not trained enough. I believe you Americans like to say something like, ah, ‘The butterflies in the stomach fly away when the bell rings.’ No?”

Kinda, but I’ll take it.

“Sure,” the blonde quickly agreed with her, her ears perking up at the faint yet distinct chants of Woooo! beyond the hallway walls correlating with Whiskey taking it to Cindy with knife chops on the screen.

Melanie knew that she shouldn’t be so open to this woman, given that they’re just a few weeks away from potentially kicking the crap out of one another, but….

“It’s funny.” Running a thumb along her forehead to push the hair out of her face, she confided in La Dama anyways, “Based on what everyone who I’ve talked to, this guy I’m facing tonight should be a total piece of cake. And I would love an easy win much as the next girl in line, but-”

“I made the mistake of underestimating a fighter here, once. El Gladiador,” Tomas interrupted and answered with a confession, a slight wrinkle in her attractive face as the memories from her PPV debut subtly came back up to the surface. “Did not end well for me, oh no. Such a mistake...I can never make again. Especially…” Her eyes were firmly on Melanie now. “Not in the tournament. Not against la competencia grande.”

Melanie blurted out without even thinking, “Me? Competition?”

La Dama tilted her head up at the monitor. “Not just you.”

Melanie turned towards the screen to see Tiffany Laurence on the ring apron, cheering on as her stepbrother clotheslined Cindy into the corner before whipping her into the opposite set of buckles.

“...oh right. Yeah, she’s gonna be real tough-” Melanie turned around to see Angelina gone, vanished out of her field of vision.

Caught with the next words still in her mouth, she looked from one side to the next, seeing only a light herd of sexfighters all lounging around to the right of her, where the Spanish woman presumably disappeared into.

But all because the woman was physically gone, didn’t mean that her words didn’t stick with the Miami woman.

“Nice chat...” Muttering to herself, she resumed her routine, only passively paying attention to the tag team match as Johnny played to the crowd even more, building up the anticipation for his next attack….

__________________________________________________ ___


The buckles gave yet another shake as Cindy collided backfirst against its structure, the uncomfortable vibration running up her spine and informing her already pained expression.

And even more unfortunate for her was the lean (and occasionally mean) wall of masculinity slamming right into her front, Johnny going all in with another clothesline to squish her against the corner.

One grunt later, she was already halfway collapsed with both arms clinging groggily to the ropes level with her face.

And at that same time, Whiskey was posing for the camera, teasingly rotating around the shoulder of the arm that he used to smash the blue-haired woman with.

But showmanship was only part of the game, and the Laurence man knew what came next.

Grabbing her dyed hair with the same hand, he took her out of the corner, turning her over so that her back was to him.

Putting himself partially on her blindside, he draped her left arm over his shoulder, clasped all ten fingers together under her crotch, and then went for liftoff.

Cindy went from barely steady off her feet to flailing and flying in the next second.

Launching her up in mid-air for his patented teardrop (Or Panty Dropper, as it was known back home) suplex, Johnny fell back and subsequently felt the vibration of the ring canvas as she was slammed down on the back of her head and shoulders.

After landing flat on her back, Cindy Love immediately writhed and turned over on her belly, legs painfully kicking against the mat with yet another suplex absorbed by her spinal column.

While she was dealing with all that, Whiskey sat up, barely a line of sweat on his forehead as his conditioning remained on-point, as always.

Floating across the ring to access her prone form, he took hold of both ankles while flipping her over on her back.

Lifting both legs away from her supine form, he bent one of them to put the shin behind the knee of the straight leg, swiftly securing the ankle of the straight leg against his armpit.

From there, he reached around the ankle and through the opening formed, locking both his hands together.

Then, it was only a matter of stepping over her, putting Cindy back on her back as if executing a Sharpshooter or Boston crab.

But this particular submission maneuver was neither of those things.

In some ways, it was worse.

“Fuck- fuuuuuck!” Cindy’s eyes went wide, and her mouth screamed out in hastily realized horror all at the same time as he crouched over her with the Texas cloverleaf locked in firmly.

The pain, acting fast, compressed her legs, agonizingly flexed her spine, and even more so torqued her lower abdomen.

All primarily sensitive areas for the blue-haired woman, especially after all the offense she had taken from both stepsiblings at various points in the match.

Within seconds, she was thrashing her upper body around in a frantic flurry of motion, trying to power out of the leglock.

But in her case, she wasn’t in the most advantageous position.

“Gonna sit on this one juuust a little bit.” Grinning some, Whiskey did exactly that, leveraging his crouched position to further put the pressure on her body.

Shaking her vibrant hair in a thrashing response, she quickly came to realize that a power reversal wasn’t in the cards for her.

That came only after he further cranked on the cloverleaf to draw out the excruciating abdomen stretch.

So what came next…

“Fuck- fuuck!” She tried reaching out to the ropes, but still couldn’t shake his anchoring presence.

Which of course only invited more wrenching down on her legs from him.

“FUCK!” Even more helpless grunting and growling.

“Oh come on now.” He playfully chastised her over his shoulder as she again kept scratching and clawing for the ropes. “Simmer down a little bit, alright Blueberry?”

Despite her current state of physical and mental anguish, Cindy yelled out, “My name’s not Blueberry!”

“Meh.” He shrugged his shoulders while still holding her legs, “It should be. ‘Blueberry Crush’, tell me that’s not one hell of an upgrade.”

“Don’t give her ideas, you idjit!” Tiffany scolded him from his corner.

He turned to his partner with a sheepish smirk, knowing that the blue-haired woman was still trapped under him. “Hey, just trying to break some conversation here before I-”

“Wait, watch out!”

The dark-haired man turned sharply against the sudden outburst of Brandy’s warning tone...precisely one second too late.

Coming off the ropes, Lexi made her uninvited presence known with a running kick right to his jaw, taking advantage of his crouched, unguarded position to break up the submission for her clearly distressed partner.

Still holding her legs with his response time already delayed, Whiskey had no choice but to eat the heel of her foot out of the corner of his mouth and feel the immediate aftermath that befell him.

And that included falling forward on his face, involuntarily relinquishing the cloverleaf just when Cindy seemed like she was nearing wit’s end.

While frowned upon by the referee, the interference was technically legal within the parameters of SFL tag rules, given the circumstances of her involvement.

But at the same time, her intervention prompted…

“Oh you fucked up now!” Ducking her head under the top rope, Tiffany brought herself into the proceedings with Lexi Lust rising up now to receive her wrath….

… or maybe not, as the smaller blonde managed to make Brandy swing and miss with her initial clothesline, ducking by the narrowest of margins.

Twirling around, Tiffany opened her mouth to curse but ended up only grunting out as the non-legal member of the Beach Babes delivered a spinning heel kick right to her gut.

Shooting her leg out into the Texan’s midriff with snapping precision, she threw her head back with a confident toss with the powerhouse forced to take a knee.

“Took the words right out of you, huh?” Lexi went on to mock her, continuing to ride high while seizing Brandy by the hair.

Moving with a skip and a victorious giggle, the SFL sexfighter went to toss Tiffany Laurence over the top rope, only to yelp out in surprise as the Southern woman reversed momentum mid-motion and wound up sending her sailing through to the ropes and to the outside!

Still yelling as she plummeted facefirst to the mats down below, the blonde woman quickly stirred and set herself on all fours, just as the bustier blonde slid under the bottom rope to join her.

Lexi crawled and crawled...but inevitably shrieked out as those firm, Southern-made fingers closed in around her locks.

With a vengeful yank, she was brought face-to-face with a very pissed off Brandy.

And then, she was brought up, higher and higher until she was looking down at the fans behind the barricade.

Hoisting the woman up in a military press, Tiffany barely broke her concentration as she turned towards the fans with her signature wholesome smile.

A smile that then turned to a focused grimace, once she started to drop Lexi torso first right into the-

“Ugghh…” The intended delivery never came, though, because there was something outside her control that did break through her mental shield.

Namely both of Cindy’s feet slamming into her lower back from inside the ring, disrupting the lift-and-carry spectacle and launching Tiffany chestfirst into the barrier instead!

Pulling off a very timely baseball slide to save her partner, the blue-haired woman kept one arm still tethered to the ropes while watching the loudmouthed Texan crumple to her knees with one hand clutching her ribs.

Lexi received a slightly less jarring landing, managing to right herself in mid-air to not take another faceplant.

It probably helped the recovery process that her partner slid under the ropes to assist her back up to her feet.

Good for them...decidedly less so for Brandy.

Without speaking, they exchanged a smiling nod, and then went about executing an impromptu yet mutually understood strategy.

Each woman grabbing Tiffany’s arms, the duo guided her up to her feet... only to violently slam her back against the barrier.

Crying out at the harsh impact, she slumped down on her side, clutching at-

“Bitch!” Acting more of emotion, Lexi stomped down on the downed woman’s torso, getting off one solid shot of her own before Cindy returned inside the ring.


***


“Isolate and incapacitate. We’ve seen countless examples of this in the past, but if you’re a new and burgeoning tag team wanting to see this concept in action, look no further than this scene. The Beach Babes obviously identified the serious threat that Tiffany posed and took measures to minimize that threat for the time being. Solid teamwork from two women who would love a second look on the tag team rankings.”

“Johnny might not appreciate hearing this in his current predicament, but this also forces the spotlight on him. Last fall was all Brandy in the end, but here and now, the ball is firmly in his hands. How far he runs with it may depend on a few things, including- wow, well that for a first!” George’s analytic speculation was interrupted by Cindy coming off the ropes, grabbing him in a one-armed front facelock as he pushed off the mat, before swinging in a semi-circular loop to deliver…


***


“Nnnggghh!” Johnny Laurence was driven right back down to the mat courtesy of a surprise swinging neckbreaker by his fully recovered opponent.

Face up and then back down in a snapshot of time, Whiskey momentarily slumped over into his side, grabbing at the base of his skull while the blue-haired woman leered over him.

Smiling from ear to ear, she sensually slinked over to the side where Johnny’s eyes were currently facing, a subtle lustful swagger in her all-fours approach.

“What was that you said earlier, handsome...?” Nudging him back over on his back with one hand, she half-straddled him to lean in close. “...Blueberry, right?”

Moving in before he could resist, she caressed his lips with her own, moaning hotly at the oral embrace.

Instinctively, he went to push her away with one hand, but just as easily she swatted it away to continue her seductive smooch.

Cindy kept up the liplock only to see Lexi climb back on the ring apron, informing her next move.

With one hand, she explored the muscled contours of his heaving chest, fingers gently raking against his pectoral muscles while searching for something lower….something hard-

“Nnnnphhh!” With a sudden cry of resistance, Johnny managed to lift with his upper body to send the blue-haired seductress off of him.

The abrupt detour from her planned incursion down his trunks didn’t deter the young woman much, though; within seconds, she was on fours again to regain control.

And step one of that included looping one arm under his neck when he attempted a situp, the rest of her body pressing against his back in immediate succession.

With both forearms soon wrapped around his head in a tightening knot of flesh and determination, Cindy’s smile shone through her dyed locks as the chinlock kept Johnny still grounded on the mat.

“You don’t need to play difficult, cowboy.” The blue-haired woman kept her stance at a semi crouch behind him with the vice grip attacking his oxygen. “We took care of your big sis outside, so it’s just us now. Just you, me, and that little six-shooter you’ve got tucked underneath those trunks. We’re gonna have lots of fun once you go sleepy bye for a little bit.”

Her surprisingly firm forearms muffled his initial response, but once he was able to get out a few unhindered breaths, Whiskey was unsurprisingly candid as he grunted out, “More of a seven-shooter, but hey, who’s got a ruler, right?”

“That’s cute.” Bracing the point of one knee against the small of her back, Cindy kept the Texan man anchored to her, far away from Tiffany who was still recovering on the outside.

The ropes were also away from his immediate reach, but he’d made do with less before.

And this wouldn’t be anything but a-

“Uggghhhh….” A louder grunt was forced out of Johnny as her interlaced hands wrenched back to further increase the pressure.

Jarring his thought process. Blearing up his eyes.

Deepening his resolve.

A growing chorus of clapping started to hit the ring from all sides, becoming more and more palpable to empower the man from San Antonio.

Squeezing his hands together, Whiskey eventually brought himself off the mat, defying Cindy’s rear chinlock.

Grunting out in frustration, she tried to keep him down, but there was no slowing down the Johnny Laurence train when it got going.

And she would bear witness to that fact immediately once he got an arm around her neck, and then yanked downwards to force a release.

Flung overhead via an improvised judo throw, she rolled over the mat, twirling around then to receive-

“Ugh!” Well first, she received a sudden kick right to the gut that nearly dropped her to a kneel.

But that was good enough for Johnny to suck his own wind back in, and lunge in for the follow up.

Pressing his body against her from a side angle, he locked his hands together under her crotch, gearing up for another teardrop suplex.

But this time, Cindy was ready.

Lashing out in sharp resistance the second her feet started to leave the ground, she brought down a volley of elbow strikes down on his lowered head, tucked underneath one armpit as part of the setup.

Again and again and again, each blow landed until he had to put her down, abandoning that approach…

… but succeeding with the next as he swept out her back leg with a sly kick at the same time!

Yelling in surprise, she landed flat on her back, prompting another quick-thinking response from her.

Throwing her body under the bottom rope, she successfully rolled out of the ring to safety as Johnny went to collect her, evading further contact.

Rubbing at the back of his head, he remained within the squared circle, staring intently as she looked to regain her bearings on the outside.

Soon enough, Lexi was there to accompany her recovery, the two tag partners looking to each other for support as they both rose up.

All the while, he waited some, and then grabbed the ropes, for something…

“Coming at ya!” Grunting out, Johnny launched himself over the top cable, somersaulting out onto the both of them in a surprising yet spectacular slingshot plancha!

Lexi and Cindy barely had time to brace themselves before his airborne form came down on them like a solid beam of lean masculinity.

Everyone on that particular side of the ring stood up in rapt applause as Whiskey rolled off of their flattened bodies.

Shock and surprise lingered on their faces, but the JumboTron also got plenty of Johnny’s exuberant expression as he stood up to high five some of said spectators.

And adding to that list of people admiring his show of high-flying prowess…


***


“Hell of a risk there with the springboard slingshot, but he stuck the landing quite nicely as Whiskey takes out both halves of the Beach Babes in one fell swoop. Very rare to see such athleticism from a man built like him, but as we talked about earlier, those two have been overdelivering with the surprises ever since they arrived in the SFL a little more than a month ago. We can only expect more of the same tonight and moving forward from both of the Laurence duo.”

“We can also expect an early finish to this match if he keeps pulling off this quality of offense,” Kevin contributed to George’s glowing commentary, looking on as Whiskey grabbed Cindy out of the bodily heap still on the floor and promptly deposited her back inside the ring.

One one-handed shove later, she was pushed over on her back closer towards the center.

From there, he pulled himself up on the ring apron, but quickly sought a higher perch, climbing up the turnbuckle pads with the familiar ease of a construction worker ascending a ladder…


***


That early finish that Kevin was alluding to was precisely what Johnny was thinking as he positioned himself on the top rope, looking down at the blue-haired babe before him with her limbs still sprawled out and her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Rising up slowly from his new perch, he looked to the crowd from the left, then to the right, and then, back down at Cindy.

Standing to full height, he patted the bottom of his right elbow, giving a heads up as to his next play.

Then, confirming his target, Johnny braced himself for laun-

“Nooo!” But then, there came Lexi Lust to intervene on her partner’s behalf.

Scrambling up the ring apron at that critical moment, she latched her desperate hands around his boot, preventing him from taking off.

Frustration quickly pushed out the focused calm that had taken to his face, forcing the Laurence man to act fast.

Switching his attention from the prone woman inside the ring to her standing teammate on the outside, he tried to shove the blonde woman off with one hand.

“Appreciate the gesture, but I’m gonna have to insist, miss…” Though he kept his chivalry somewhat, Whiskey was very much intending on delivering this elbow drop come hell or high water.

But she clung to his boot with both of hers, not detaching despite his efforts.

And now, her persistence paid off.

Dragging herself off the mat, Cindy staggered around for a moment until she saw what was none happening on the top rope.

Sudden initiative taking hold, the blue-haired sexfighter rushed forward as fast as her legs would carry her.

Bounding across the ring, she managed to scale up the turnbuckle while Johnny was still partially preoccupied, her body coming up to meet him in a-

“Mmmphh!” Quicker than he could anticipate, Cindy planted a second kiss on him, just as tantalizing as the first.

Her feet braced against the middle ropes with her arms draping around his neck, lips pressed to his with a driving passion.

Lexi still held his boot tight with her partner shouldering most of the sensual share of the work on top, engaging in something of a lover’s embrace with the Texan man.

And though equally proficient at both, he definitely preferred being more of a lover than a fighter at times.

Their mid-air tongue fencing certainly gave some weight to that statement, along with his hands instinctively going to wrap around her slender waistline to pull her to him, the two now chest-to-chest along with being mouth-to-mouth.

Cindy responded to his torso groping by exploring with her own hands, going lower though while he kept his hands at breast level.

A pleased purr graced her lips as her hands snuck inside his trunks, finding the hardness that had eluded her earlier.

Still kissing him, she wrapped her petite fingers around his flesh and started to stroke and squeeze his flesh into a workable shape.

An equally pleased grunt came from Johnny’s side as he felt her groping his dick, but he had another reason to be happy.

That reason, in fact, was the knot behind her bra now being undone by his own cunning digits.

Cindy had his manhood pulled right out of his trunks and was already tugging and twisting on the growing flesh when she suddenly froze up, mid-move.

But Johnny continued where she hesitated, quickly removing her bra and then, sensing her growing awareness of what was really going on….

“Nnnnn- down ya go!” Pushing with urgency against her freshly bared chest, Whiskey sent his opponent flailing back down to the canvas, freeing his lips, and giving his eyes a body to relock onto.

Subsequently knocking Lexi off of his side with a leggy push, he rose into a viable position while the woman with the bright blue hair staggered about with her modest bosom fully unveiled to the audience.

His eyes trained on her for a moment, a moment more, and then, he was off.

Finally launching himself into a jumping version of a martial arts kick, he maneuvered his body around mid-air so that he would be horizontal with her right as their bodies collided.

From up high to now right in her face and upper body, Johnny delivered a spinning wheel kick that connected the outside of his right leg to her collarbone and neck!

Like a bolt of lightning, the move struck Cindy down to the mat with Johnny narrowly able to control his own landing.

Rolling over on his backside, he looked at the immediate fallout of the tremendous kick through an over-the-shoulder perspective, cheers of the crowd coming through in each ear.

Knocked offbalance (to say the least), his opponent was in a much more exploitable position, what with her cheek to the mat and her ass slightly raised up.

One hand was sorely massaging under her chin while the rest of her body was still recovering from the attack, giving Whiskey the mental headstart to plan ahead.

First tucking his half-erect member back in his trunks, he flipped over on his belly and got a knee under him.

Then, digging the point of his other boot into the mat, he pushed upwards while Cindy was barely aware of her immediate surroundings.

Johnny Laurence, in expected contrast, was very aware of his surroundings, including someone else who would love to join in on the fun...

“Tiff, you awake back there?!” he suddenly called out for his partner, whilst slipping one hand underneath his opponent’s chin to bring her up as well.

Dragging her bare chest off the canvas, he remarked in playfully self-aggrandizing fashion, “Got a hot one coming your way. Peeled fresh off the mats, courtesy from your friendly neighborhood cow-”

“Just shut up and get over here,” Brandy groaned at him, reaching between the ropes to offer the tag out now that she was back on the ring apron.

Shrugging, he lined up Cindy once more for punishment, and then swiftly made good on that promise with yet another knife edge chop to the chest.

Able to strike cleanly against her bare flesh now, he let out a loud Woooo! himself as she faltered back with a pained yell.

Eventually going back-to-buckles with their team turnbuckle, the colorfully haired woman wasn’t allowed to slump down yet as Johnny reached forward to seize a handful of dyed locks.

Making the tag with his partner, he led Cindy back out of the corner as Tiffany ducked inside.

“Want her low or high?” Johnny questioned his partner, while backing up a few solid steps.

His partner stretched out her shoulders some, as she was preparing to receive a long pass at a football game. “Surprise me.”

“Wait…” The sexfighter shook her head some as Whiskey hooked his hands underneath her armpits. “Wait a min-whooaa!”

Suddenly launched right into the air by the dark-haired Texan, she was catapulted in unceremonious fashion upwards and backwards...right into Tiffany’s awaiting forearms.

Grabbing her in a rear waistlock in mid-air, Brandy subsequently fell backwards at the same time to direct Cindy Love’s spine towards the flat canvas in an assisted German suplex!

Once more dropped on her back, the double teamed sexfighter could only groan and grunt out as Tiffany continued to hold the bridge with her back still arched above the mat.

Besides serving as a reminder as to the blonde woman’s natural core strength, it also functioned as a necessary anchor for Johnny to then follow up.

And that he did, starting first by gripping behind both of her knees with his hands, and then flipping forward over her torso with both feet planting on either side of her head.

Showcasing a balancing flexibility to go with his partner’s strength, he bridged his own back to keep the jackknife cover maintained, capturing both of her legs just above her head whilst allowing Tiffany to unlock the waistlock and scoot back for a better position.

Moving with proficient smoothness and urgency within the 30-second window allowed, the blonde Texan seamlessly peeled back Cindy’s panties, baring the perfectly trimmed opening of folded flesh between her thighs.

With Johnny still holding the woman’s legs in the quite agile pinning position, his stepsister was relieved of that manual labor, and now, could dip her fingers right into the erotic hotness now laid before her.

“Mmmmm, let me get these things a little wet, babe, then we’ll take good care of you,” Tiffany promised the squirming woman, sensually lubricating the center three fingers of her right hand with her mouth and then, sliding them along the smooth flesh of her inner thighs…

…. and right into the honeypot!

Going knuckles deep within the first few digital plunges, Brandy exercised a very intermediate level of familiarity with her current sexual attack already.

And the intensity of the erotic exploration only heightened with every plunge of her digits deep within Cindy’s bare cunt.

Starting with one and then adding two to the mix, the blonde woman’s fingers formed a determined shape of driving feminine power that slithered enticingly within the blue-haired woman, making her stiffen at first, and then moan out.

Moan and squeal.

Then, squeal and shout.

Shout for more. And then-

“Arrrggghhh…” Quite unceremoniously yanked right out of her zone of focus, Tiffany Laurence felt a sudden tug against her neck as Lexi Lust’s intervening hands once again found themselves coiled around her flowing locks.

Materializing right in the nick of time for her partner’s sake, the Golden Girl yanked back with intent, freeing her partner from further arousing contact.

Seeing what was happening out of his periphery, Johnny relinquished the jackknife cover as his step sibling was dragged back towards the center of the ring.

Lexi kept a solid grip over the Texan, through and through, looking over her shoulder to picture an Irish whip back towards their corner before turning back to witness... and promptly receive a clubbing forearm right to the face!

Breaking free of the hair pull as soon as she came into full awareness of what was happening, Tiffany downed the blonde woman with a trusty swing of her dominant (and best drinking) arm.

Spinning around, Lexi had already plunged right into a full faceplant with her limbs spread like an angel across the canvas by the time Brandy shook her head to see the immediate fallout.

And what she saw, she liked.

“God damn, you just keep on coming, don’t ya? Coming back again and again to get walloped like some kind of Whack-A-Mole thing, huh?” Tiffany teasingly massaged up and down her toned forearms, her back to Cindy Love while her eyes squared down on the not-legal woman.

“...Tiff…”

“Yeah yeah, hold ya horses one sec.” Fixing upon the Golden Girl, she reached down to bring the groaning woman up into a sitting position.

“See, these cute little mittens ain’t just for beating ass, sweetie…” Her hands traveled down from Lexi’s neck and shoulders down to her skimpy bodysuit, teasing out the fabric that covered her lithe form. “They really know how to work girls up all kinds of good.”

After all the teasing, came the stripping, as the Texan powerhouse set about removing the one-piece that had adorned Lexi’s slightly busty frame.

Sooner than soon, the tanned woman was abruptly liberated of her clothing, faint struggles not stopping the San Antonio native in the slightest.

That was, until she suddenly felt a separate set of hands reaching around her neck from behind.

Without the slightest hint of notice, Tiffany suddenly fell backwards as Cindy Love did the same, only with her knees squarely braced up against the small of the Texan’s back.

The momentary rear chin lock was sufficient enough to expose Tiffany to an even greater dosage of pain as the blue-haired sexfighter unleashed her signature Beach Break backstabber.

From then on, there was only pain on her face with the double knees finding their sharp mark right against her spine, before her arching back flipped her over on her belly.

Lexi, free from her disrober, slinked back under the bottom rope and towards her team’s corner while Cindy rolled up on her knees, fully naked.

Naked, and horny.

The latter was indicated inasmuch by her plunging two fingers within her snatch, toggling with her libido levels until it was just….right…

“Babe, you good?” The blue-haired woman looked up at Lexi, once the object of Tiffany’s wrath, and now, her own free spirit once again.

“I’ll be better when you tag me in.” Her partner decided to finish what Brandy had started, slinking right out of the bodysuit so that she was fully in the nude as well.

“...coming right…” Cindy let out an aroused sigh with her fingers curling up deeper, and then, easing back out. “...up.”

Leaning forward, she sensually crawled around the writhing blonde, bare ass perked up in the air (not coincidentally in Johnny’s direction) while her limbs carried her around the powerhouse.

Then, she made the tag…


***


“I am impressed, I must say. Both teams have shown plenty of merit tonight, but the Beach Babes especially, have really been putting in some solid work in the ring here tonight. You wanna talk about underrated, underused- hell, even underappreciated, you look at those two women. Cindy’s last singles match with the Phenom didn’t exactly go her way. Their handicap match against Elaine Adonis, same story. But right now, I’m seeing that they’ve learned from their past shortcomings, and are really coming at this the way a tag team should: sacrificing the individual for the good of the team.”

“I concur completely.” George didn’t have much else to contribute to his partner’s expert analysis, his attention partially taken up by the two women leading Tiffany Laurence up by the arms. “If I’m Nikky or Brad right now, I’m watching this match with one eye on both teams at the same time. Our tag division is competitive as is, but who knows what a win might do for either pairing. And I know Southern Comfort would surely enjoy another shot at the champs, especially under higher stakes.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they would. But for now, they’re gonna have to get past- oh here we go!”


***


Johnny visibly winced as Lexi and Cindy, with their combined strength, Irish whipped Brandy chestfirst from the center of the ring into their team turnbuckle.

Hitting the buckles with plenty of forward momentum, his stepsister naturally grabbed at her bosom before ultimately faltering back...right into their hands once again.

Gripping her hair from both sides, the duo quite harshly slammed her to the mat, going down with her at the same time.

Now kneeling on either side of the blonde woman, they exchanged a knowing glance before proceeding to the next stage of the double team.

While Tiffany was still cradling the back of her head, all four of their hands were on her body, more specifically, her chest region.

They easily ripped away her bra much to the crowd’s audible delight, tearing away the red, white, blue, and now replacing it with the tanned bust of her ‘twin peaks’.

“Holy shit!” Cindy exclaimed, almost in awe of Tiffany’s very pronounced rack.

“Sister’s got some melons on her,” Lexi also agreed, almost in an awed tone. “Reminds me of Kenzie.”

“...sister’s gonna whoop both your asses in a minute once...gah...I get over this headache,” Tiffany responded to both of them.

Cindy only licked her lips, eyes darting briefly over to Whiskey, and then, focusing in on the Laurence woman. “Let’s see you get over this, cowgirl.”

Then, like a pair of ravenous animals, they were on her.

Lexi’s mouth went to her right breast, kissing its surface, working to the nipple to suck on it.

At the same time, Cindy worked the other, massaging it, thumb tracing circles around the nipple, teasing it....

“Wow fuuck!” Brandy gasped out, not expecting this sudden assault on her breasts.

Especially after the hard frontal collision with the turnbuckle, what they were now doing to her felt almost therapeutic.

And that same feeling of unrestrained pleasure kept washing over her face with both women relishing in their oral control over her chest.

“Mmmmmm….” Moaning and moving her mouth along, Cindy replaced her fingers with her lips, enfolding her left nipple within her oral grasp.

Then, giving it a playful nip with her teeth, she started to suck tenderly on the flesh, trapping the cap of her mountainous breast in pleasure.

And it was that same pleasure that got to Tiffany like a cattle prod right to the rear end, making her stiffen up and purr out...much to Johnny’s chagrin.

“C’mon, c’mon…” Rubbing against the back of his neck, he was brought back to a very familiar scene with his stepsister lying prone on the ground while two women sucked and kissed her breasts like they were trying to suck the silicon out of her.

And that same thread of history seemed determined to repeat itself with Brandy’s moans growing more and more while the double teaming continued, the mutual breast worship opening up an obvious erogenous zone for her.

“Fuck, fuck, get off my titties,” Tiffany moaned out, which very much worked against her in this instance.

The Beach Babes kept at it, worshiping her globes as the seconds ticked away, and her pussy grew even hotter.

Mid-suckle, the two sexfighters locked eyes again, which seemingly emboldened them both as Whiskey finally swung one leg inside the ring.

But before he could enter the ring, Cindy suddenly pulled out at the ref’s behest, sliding under the bottom rope to give her partner space to take over completely as the legal woman.

Straddling the sexfighter, Lexi asserted herself in rare dominant form, lavishing each breast with her traveling tongue while feeling the hardness of each globe caressing her cheeks.

“There you go, there you go…” The other half of the Beach Babes was watching intently from the ring apron as those oral attentions gradually began drifting down from Tiffany’s sensitive chest area, and now down towards her (ultra)sensitive lower areas.

Inch by inch, Lexi exhibited more and more of her seductive spirit as the tease down Brandy’s midriff finally ended in a tantalizing kiss against the fabric of the Texan woman’s panties.

After one last hearty squeeze of titflesh, Lexi hooked her fingers around the bottoms and pulled down to unveil Tiffany’s shaved peach.

“Now that you’re all nice and warmed up…” She pushed Brandy's legs apart some, giving her better access to what she was going to spend the next few moments pleasuring.

“Fuck...don’t you…” The Texan woman was suddenly missing that confident edge in her voice. “Don’t you da-ah fuck!”

Smiling sexily, Lexi dove in headfirst and went in on her opponent’s pussy!

Latching her tongue upon Brandy's naked cunt, she started devouring the woman's sexpot with lustful hunger, the already built-in tension from the mutual breast worship making her that much more determined to work her tongue in like a boat rudder and let it do its thing.

Tiffany's eyes widened as she felt her tongue focus right on her love pearl!

“Ohhhh fuck, my clit! Ohhhhh gawd...!” She cried out loudly, sitting up as her hips quivered in erotic shock!

Swirling that tongue around in fervent patterns, a huge observation became instantly apparent.

Lexi could feel Tiffany’s clit was large, almost the size of a marble, which made her a real threat in tribbing positions.

But it was also an easy target for foreplay-based attacks, as was now exhibited here.

“Ohhh....oh god....so good....” she groaned out in a softer voice, contrasting Lexi’s increased confident cooing along to the pussy worship.

Smiling, she continued to push her heightened advantage, drilling her tongue right in those pleasurably sensitive spots that had now exposed themselves as the perfect weak spots in the San Antonio woman’s armor.

Of course, the crowd was all about seeing and hearing Tiffany's writhing state of sexual unrest at the determined tongue of her opponent.

Circling that wet organ around her clit, the Golden Girl gave a few gentler yet insistent sucks upon it, sensing the weakness permeating her lower body grow more and more palpable.

“Fuuuuck….” Brandy tensed up, her legs starting to curl up against Lexi’s sides.

Her blonde foe continued to put on the heat, lavishing her way right towards….

“.....no!” A boot pushing against her shoulder ultimately prevailed, Tiffany narrowly managing to knock Lust off of her crotch.

Driven back on her side, the woman was quick to recover, repositioning herself on all fours while she watched Tiffany drag herself up into a kneeling form.

Her panties still down by her knees, her arousal was absolutely obvious as her pussy shone with wetness, and her large nipples looked hard enough to cut glass.

Even her clit was visibly hard, a pink nub the size of a small marble that the camera focused on and put on the big screen!

Panting and gasping, Tiffany began to move forwards, towards the outstretched hand of her stepbrother, though with her back still to a very active and eager Lexi Lust.

Lunging right after her, the Golden Girl quickly cut off that hopeful trail by grabbing on to Tiffany’s right arm.

Attempting to twist it back for a hammerlock, she began forcing the Laurence woman back in the opposite direction, but that was a no-go almost immediately.

Craning her head back around, Tiffany promptly gave the blonde woman a Not today! look before abruptly shooting her off into the ropes instead with the same arm.

Whipped around and then towards the cables, Lexi was propelled forwards off the amazing momentum conjured up purely through Brandy’s one-armed catapult.

And what was even more amazing, was that the Texan woman had an instant follow up.

Clambering to her feet, she bent down slightly to pick up Lexi’s running form over her shoulders in a fireman's carry position.

Then, turning clockwise, she suddenly fell backwards, driving the sexfighter down to the mat backfirst in a surprise Samoan drop!

Once both women hit near the center of the ring, a tremendous thud bouncing off all four corners.

However, due to her womanhood still throbbing with distracting euphoria, the busty blonde couldn’t properly capitalize.

The separation came instantly, Tiffany and Lexi both instinctively peeling away from one another and rolling back towards their respective corners.

Cindy silently cursed under her breath, kneeling down slightly to offer her hand towards her downed teammate.

Rolling at a more sluggish pace due to her taking the brunt of the impact, the Golden Girl started to make her way back towards her partner, while Tiffany did the same.

Dragging herself across the ring with a pussy already engorged with dripping desire, it was a task more difficult than usual just to cover the distance, but alas, she barely managed to pull it off.

Moving those final, critical strides, she finally had enough momentum to lunge forward and make the tag...just as Lexi did the same to Cindy!

Already hyped and ready to go, Johnny entered the ring with an energetic bounce, already running once Cindy Love brought herself into the fray.

With a toss of her blue hair, she ran directly into a clothesline by Whiskey, no real time to prepare or even initiate a counter thanks to his superior speed off the jump.

Knocked down but not kept down, she stumbled back up and was promptly seized and then shot off by the wrist in a smoothly connected Irish whip.

Launching her forward, Johnny struck with another clothesline with his leading arm, one that she unsurprisingly ducked under.

Twirling around for the rebound, he planted himself like a tree…

… and then caught Cindy’s attempted crossbody in mid-air with both arms as soon as she launched at him!

Spinning around some to go with her velocity, Johnny Laurence ended up facing his stepsis after a few rotations around.

Giving her his best Clint Eastwood smile, he subtly gestured back over his shoulder before falling backwards, tossing Cindy Love overhead in a swift and successful fallaway slam.

Thrown from one side of the ring to another, the slender sexfighter landed hard on the canvas, and this time, didn’t rise up so quickly.

Moaning and wincing with her face partially obscured against one forearm, her writhing spine put her over on her belly, presenting her naked curvature and round backside to the very thankful live audience.

Feet away, Johnny laid there on the ground, breathing in and out...

.. and then, kipped up with a Texas-friendly shout!

Using pure lower body strength from drawing back his legs to finally extending up with his hips, he brought himself into a standing position with the crowd also on their feet now.

Throwing up his hands, he hyped up the crowd appropriately, getting them all ready while going towards the corner opposite to Cindy’s current position.

Leaning back against the turnbuckle, he stared straight down the slowly recovering body of the woman about to wear his boot print right across her forehead.

“C’mon….” Measuring her up, he raised one leg up, knee level with his stomach, and then stomped it down on the canvas.

Seconds later, he repeated the stomp, and then, once more.

Like ceremonial drums beating to signal something, Whiskey was indeed signaling for something particularly noteworthy that was about to happen to the legal woman.

And again, he stomped down, watching intently as she started to rise up, arms reaching to the ropes for support.

Slightly out of his primary line of vision, however, Lexi rounded the metal ringpost to put herself on the same side of him.

Another stomp was accompanied by a loud clap by the spectators as Love was once again on her feet, albeit still favoring her back.

With one final stomp, Johnny pushed out of the corner, measuring her up with the anticipation firmly built up in his favor.

Then, as Cindy started to turn around to face the music, he began to close in on her with her patented, fully prepped-

“Nnggghh!” The stampede was abruptly halted mid-stride when Lexi Lust, leaning in over the ropes, grabbed at his dark locks from the ring apron.

Managing to snag his hair just in the nick of time, the resulting whiplash was quickly minimized by Whiskey turning with his body to face her.

One foot up on the bottom rope, the blonde woman yanked back desperately in an attempt to further unbalance the Texan man.

Grinning strategically as her maneuver forced Johnny to face her fully, thus giving up his back to the legal woman still in the ring, she braced her other foot up on the same cable, elevating her chest up to his chin…

“Surprise handsome!” Without pause, Lexi gleefully thrusted her bare breasts directly into Johnny’s faces, smothering him in her own fleshy prism with her hands wrapping around his neck to keep him there.

Balancing up on her tiptoes, she had the man trapped, and seemingly, already gasping for her as her well-shaped (though not outrageously enlarged) tits had concealed both eyes with his nose and mouth wedged in the slim space between them.

Having secured the element of surprise right when his focus was elsewhere, she had the initial advantage for those critical first moments before his reaction time finally and fully caught up.

And even then, it was more difficult than originally thought to pry her off.
Luckily, he had some assistance.

“C’mere!” Suddenly grabbing Lexi’s left ankle, Tiffany Laurence yanked down hard to tear the blonde woman away from her stepbrother’s face, bringing her back down to the outside proper.

Yelping with surprise with her breast smother halted, she found herself ripped off the ring apron with both feet back on the actual ground, and her eyes once again level with a pissed off Texan’s face.

Then, Lexi looked down a few inches, and a look of pure terror took to her pretty features.

With that terror, came a quickly smothered (and unanswered) cry of distress as Brandy’s hands went to the back of her head, forcing her face back between the blonde’s jutting breasts!

“Folks didn’t pay to see no cheap knockoff, sweetheart!” the San Antonio woman stated confidently while keeping the Golden Girl anchored to her chest area. “And I ain’t fixin’ to be outdone by nobody, ya hear?”

Locking in her much more renowned and polished application of the infamous body vice, the Laurence woman pushed trapped prey inwards and inwards until her tits were literally vibrating with Lexi’s anguished screams.

And then, with her forearms coiled around the smaller woman’s neck, she tightened the hold like a knot of rope, subsequently sealing up the oxygen supply.

Squirming, the Golden Girl let out a muffled and barely sustained “Fuccccck!” with Johnny finally rising back up to his full height, having recovered in the interim amount of time.

With his back still to Cindy Love.

Shaking his head clear, Whiskey didn’t have much time to cheer on his partner’s increasingly apparent triumph before the legal woman came at him from behind.

Bringing her knees up to his spine while grabbing at his shoulders to keep herself steady, she went for another backstabber.

And it would’ve been a very successful one, had Johnny’s ring awareness not prompted him to grip the ropes right in front of him just in time to counterbalance the maneuver.

Leaning onto the cables for support, he effectively bucked her off of him, flinging the blue-haired sexfighter to the mat while he was still standing.

Rolling backwards, Cindy stumbled her way up…

… and then ate Johnny’s leather sole right in the mouth!

Anticipating her rise before perhaps even she did, Whiskey laid out the woman with a clean and concise Stampede Superkick.

No theatrics. No taunting.

Just impact in its most sudden and satisfying form.

Flat on her back before he could even fully look over his shoulder, the referee loomed close by once Whiskey became aware that the kick had indeed connected.

And once the crowd noise started to pipe in, well, that bought a big, wide smile to his face.

Probably bigger than the last time he kicked someone-

“You gonna finish her already?” And there Tiff was again, already trying to ruin the moment.

One quick glance over the shoulder informed him that she was holding up a barely responding Lexi, the woman’s legs as stable as straws at this point with her facial features still covered by Tiffany’s titflesh.

Going down to his knees, he gripped one of her ankles, bringing her closer to him.

Then, with the other hand, he fished his cock out and started jerking it, hardening up his shaft within a handful of deft strokes.

Easing her over on her side, he brought himself hip-to-hip with Cindy, and then, carefully lined up her pussy with his cock….

“NnnnggghhhFFFFUUUCCK!” Yelling out with erotic realization, the blue-haired woman’s jaw started to droop open once he began to thrust into her.

His seven-inch cock, while large, and though certainly below the gold standard held by the Phenom or Apollo, was more than suitable to complete the task at hand.

Not due to his girth, but rather, because of his hips.

Angling his penetrating member at just the right angle, he fucked the woman with smooth, firm thrusts, pushing with his hips and then giving a circular swivel at the end of each thrust for better effect.

And with that, came the easy breaking of her mental dam to resist.

“Oh...God,” she moaned out in heightened ecstasy, lips practically glued to the mat now as he pounded her from behind at the tempo he was going at.

“Mmmm, taking the Lord’s name in vain and everything, huh?” he teased her gently, while keeping at that same smooth pace.

Her focus, already fractured by the superkick, was completely shattered by his fifth plunge.

Arousal levels for both of them were high, though for Cindy Love, considerably higher.

On her belly now, Cindy had no response at all to what he was giving her.

Nothing but moaning, more moaning, and then….

“FUUCK!!” With a loud, wordless cry, she surrendered to his combined stimulation and gushed her orgasm all around his plundering cock, causing her body to slacken up as she coated his cock in her defeat.

With her limbs still weak, she barely had enough strength to let out a shuddering sigh with drops of girl-cum oozing out of her vanquished pussy.

The referee saw all that she needed to, calling for the bell.

“Good game.” He patted her appreciatively on her right asscheek as the ring announcer prepared to make it official, prompting Tiffany to release Lexi, who at least physically was just as drained as her partner.

Crawling underneath the ropes, Brandy squeezed his shoulder as he slowly eased himself off of the defeated woman.

“Now we’re cooking.” She nodded approvingly as the crowd began to applaud for them, just as the ring announcer boomed out, “Winner of the third fall with a side straddle fucking, WHISKEY!!” The crowd popped big for that. “...and winners of the match, I present to you…”

“Ohhhhh me gustaaaa!”

First, the loud exclamation of a woman with a Hispanic accent cut the announcer off mid-sentence, and then, came a vibrant splash of Latin music, bursting through the loudspeakers and throughout the arena.

Both Tiffany and Johnny Laurence looked up at the top of the ramp with the music forming a very distinct and danceable beat from deep within the heart of the Latin American continent.

The sounds coming through and the images now popping up on the JumboTron were all so very...Brazilian.

“...the hell?” Johnny’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but to the crowd all around, there was no confusing what came next.

Ramon Ramirez and Maria danced out of the curtains like they just exited out of a ballroom.

The bearded sexfighter was a dashing gentleman wearing slick pants and a colorful jacket representing the colors of Brazil, while Maria was a totally different stuff.

Like a flamingo, she was simply exuberant, wearing a multicolored dress that left an appetizing V-neck and sleeveless arms with various jewelry decorating her forearms.

Sending his lover off into an elegant spin to further showcase her vibrant allure, Ramon reeled her back in with a smooth flourish of his arm, briefly dipping her head down towards the ground before holding her in a bridal embrace.

Not even bothering to put her bra back on, Tiffany snorted out as the music continued to play, her facial features not conveying the look of an impressed and/or intimidated woman.

Though Whiskey, however, couldn’t shake the lingering stare that Maria was giving him, even in the arms of her own muscled, well-groomed partner.

Of course, his eyes weren’t the only feature of note for him at that moment.

His dick was still hanging out of his trunks, throbbing slightly from being firmly hilted in the woman’s vagina now laid out before them.

“What are you thinking?” He tilted his head back towards Brandy, having some thoughts of his own.

And Brandy, naturally, shrugged her shoulders. “Line ‘em up, we’ll knock ‘em down. Just like back home.”

“Yeah…” Johnny rested his forearms against the ropes, eyeing down the other potential contenders for the coveted tag titles. “Just like back home.”


_______________________________________


Author's Note: Back in action once more!

- Longer wait than I anticipated getting this tag match done, but it's completed and I was very happy with how it ultimately turned out. Again, props are due to @[Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register] for again granting me access to his created characters (The Laurence duo), as well as polishing over the draft to make sure it reflected their free-wheeling, can-do-anything spirits.

- I always like to leave a tease for next time, so I will say, for the next show, there will definitely be conflict between the two teams of Southern Comfort and the two samba dancers in Ramon and Maria. It's a new match type that I think you all will particularly enjoy, and one that comes straight from the mind of @[Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]. So, that's all I'll say on that...for the current moment...

- Now that my final exams are completed, let's see about getting back into a semi regular routine with filling out the rest of this show, shall we? I reckon it can be done as long as my fingers don't have permanent cramps from so much typing lol.

- Next few matches will return us to some of those characters many of you have been requesting for some time now. Oh, and I'm catching up with alternate endings, so no need for any reminders on that.

- Be blessed, and feel free to leave feedback whenever possible! Every little bit, even if it's just a thumbs-up or a Thanks, really goes a long way in keeping this story alive and active for all to enjoy as long as I'm capable of writing.

Last edited by batman4life; 05-May-21 at 07:01.
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  #757  
Old 04-May-21, 07:08
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Default Re: Tales of the Sex Fighting League

Great to have you back B4L. Hope the exams went well.

Top notch stuff as always. I like it when you do the behind the scenes stuff while hinting that there is a match still going on. It makes it feel like a TV show or something happening in real time.

Also, is the model for Johnny HBK? Can't help but feel there was a bit of sweet chin music inspiration!
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Old 05-May-21, 09:52
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Default Re: Tales of the Sex Fighting League

Fun one here, for sure. Definitely another match where you could feel a clean sweep coming (Cindy/Lexi being at the level they're at), but the Beach Babes got their moves in and some shine too. Purely one-sided domination matches will always have their place, but I always prefer back-and-forth fights, even if its something like this, where the winner is never in doubt, but they're forced to work for the win, at least a bit. And you've written Southern Comfort in quite a few scenes now, so it doesn't surprise me that you're able to do it well and give them the same feel that they have in Valen's story.

Looking ahead, I'm looking forward to seeing what match they get into with Ramon & Maria. Definitely not a matchup I thought we'd see, but that's one of the great things about this series (and the universe as a whole); there's so many characters who have never interacted or fought with each other yet. Even with every match that's been written so far, there are still so many more we haven't seen...just thinking about the possibilities kind of gets you excited!
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Old 08-May-21, 06:20
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Default Tales of the Sex Fighting League: Plan A

The show officially returned from commercial break following Southern Comfort’s victory on the typical backstage interview set.

As usual, there was Missy Robinson, microphone in hand with her composure already collected from the chaotic events that transpired regarding her last impromptu interview.

“Ladies and gentlemen, making her official debut with the SFL as one half of the qualifying singles match later on tonight for a spot in the IC tournament, I present: from Vienna, Austria...”

The cameraman shifted over to the right to include her next guest, a very statuesque and very beautiful brunette woman standing at attention. “Yara ‘The Lioness’ Eggimann!”

She was wearing a tracksuit from neckdown, vibrant stripes of red and white running down her chest area and stretching down the sleeves of the jacket.

Down below her pants, as the camera lingered over her impressive form, she wore a shiny pair of boots with the official Austrian flag painted into the heel of each shoe to reflect the color scheme of the rest of her gear.

The globular shape of her breasts was evident, jutting out against her jacket.

A single ponytail draped over one shoulder, a piercing grey in her eyes looking down at the interviewer who now looked like an elf compared to Yara’s very athletic and physically impressive figure.

“Yara…” Robinson began in earnest, “Firstly, I’d like to extend an official welcome to you on behalf of the entire SFL family. We’re all so glad to have someone of your well-respected pedigree, especially over in Europe, now signed as part of our active roster here in the States. Tonight is your debut, but even though you’ve had a tremendous and decorated career abroad, it is also your first impression to many fans who have not followed your development in the European leagues. So, as a first question, what kind of first impression do you hope to leave on the audience, as well as on your opponent, Mastodon?”

The microphone was extended over to her.

Speaking in a professional tone, Yara’s Austrian roots were very obvious in her opening response, “I come here to do two things: 1) to win matches, and 2) to win championships. It matters not about the in-between of those two goals. It only matters that I prove that I am the best on this continent, as I proved I was the best in Europe.”

Missy nodded as Yara continued on, her hands clasped curtly behind her back. “As for my opponent tonight, I wish him nothing but luck. He will find that I do not break as easy as some of those uh, American ‘Barbie dolls’.” She spoke that last term with some degree of disdain, but continued on, “I am strong, and have brought stronger men down to their knees before me countless times. If he does not believe the truth in my words here and now, I will prove my point gladly in the ring when it is time for us to battle. Are there any other questions, little one?”

The interviewer of course had a follow up. “Yes, if you don’t mind. So, if you do advance on to officially qualify, you will be one of 16 other individuals set to compete for #1 Contendership against Cutthroat, our current Intercontinental Champion. I’m sure that the Miz has told you a little of what to expect from Mandy, but just from you personally, any thoughts on her or her reign so far if you have any?”

Yara nodded in her understanding of the question posed, and then turned to her own history in formulating a response. “As a child, my mother brought me these Barbie dolls to play with. You see, she did not approve that I wanted to be an athlete at an early age. She thought I was out of my element, trying too hard to succeed in a sport that only men seem to excel at. I loved my mother, Missy Robinson, but she was wrong. She was wrong because I was not broken of my ambition. I did not become frail like those dolls, so empty inside.”

With a smile, the Lioness now brought things around full circle, “This ‘Cutthroat’, she is like those Barbie dolls. Pretty, so pretty on the outside, but not a woman of substance, of true strength. If she were to enter that ring with me inside, she would not last long, I can tell you that now. But I will not worry about the future. As for tonight, we will see how long the Mastodon can last against me.”

On that note, the Austrian sexfighter turned on her heel and took her stroll off the set, leaving the interviewer to cue things back to the arena.

____________________________________


“The following contest is a best 2 out of 3 falls match with a contendership in the Intercontinental Title Tournament on the line. Standard rules apply, and there must be a winner. Introducing first…”

“¡Viva La Dama!”

Confidence tightly and slenderly envisioned within the hot body of Angelina Tomas strutted out of the curtains first to the booming voice of the man in the slick tuxedo.

Her hair as black as bat wigs, and her saunter the very envy of Las Vegas showgirls, the long-tenured sexfighter from Spain walked down the ramp with her usual focus and determined poise.

Wearing a standard dark robe that hugged her Latina features quite nicely (obviously just the precursor to her more iconic nightly-colored bra-and-panties design), the Lady of Madrid barely even paused to acknowledge the wild roar of the crowd from all angles.

The volume of it all would be overwhelming, but her ears had gotten used to their loud and at-times lustful adulation over the years.

Signs were also out in full, some in English, others in Spanish, but all of them, firmly in support of her.

It was a pleasant distraction, but her focus remained intact.

Stopping at the steel steps, she slipped off her heels, giving up only an inch or two of accentuated height, while also shimmying out of her robe.

The cameraman captured just her back for a moment, tracing over the slim curvature of her spine, then, the shapely roundness of her posterior outlined by the dark and slim cut panties that revealed just enough of her glutes to send one's imagination into overdrive.

And even then, it wasn’t enough.

The camera also captured her muscled thighs, trailing down to even more well-sculpted calf muscles.

With the mixture of various musical styles of the Hispanic influence still rocking the loudspeakers, La Dama stepped on the first step, then the second, keeping in that measured show of outward confidence and pure sex appeal.

Delicately caressing the top rope, she let her hand travel along with her feet on the ring apron before one leg swung inside the ring, carrying the rest of her inside of it.

Having almost blocked out the ring announcer’s introduction of her completely at that point, Tomas strutted past him and then the referee with her confidence again painted all over her seasoned features.

Putting her back against the ropes, she lightly bounced back and forth while waiting.

Waiting, and waiting some more…


***


“I can’t figure this out, Kev. I am completely lost here.”

“Well you’re lost on a lot of things, friend. Such are the joys of old age as we often talk about-”

“Shut up, that’s not what I meant. What I’m talking about...is about this matchup we’re about to see. For new listeners tuning in, here’s the progression: last week, Charlotte West, daughter of the legendary, incomparable Miss Handcock, said some words in that very ring. Obviously, some very inflammatory remarks by her, but that seems to be her M.O. as of late. Then, Angelina Tomas, a legend in many places and certainly one soon to be here in the states, comes out with some words of her own. Kenny G-String also comes out, takes a superkick to the chin, and then….here we are now.”

The former sexfighter nodded his head as his silver-haired partner concisely recounted all the events that led to this point. “Yep. And your confusion is in….what again?”

“Kenny, who just conducted an interview earlier in the night about how he doesn’t want to get kicked in the face again, is now going to have a match against La Dama where that same event is not only likely, but damn near guaranteed. I’m sure this second chance at securing a tournament spot is appealing, but I don’t know if that alone can justify the cost of dental work in this area.”

His partner replied matter-of-factly, “Men do stupidly brave things for pretty women, George. Case in point, your last marriage.”

“...low blow, but I take your point.” George settled back in his seat, twirling around a pencil as the opening riffs of Kenny G-String’s music hit.


***


Walking out to the engaging guitar licks of Pearl Jam’s Even Flow, the bare-chested, dark-haired man shadow boxed his way out to the top of the entrance ramp.

Torn jeans outfitted his lower half, while a jeans jacket took to his lean physique on top, and then, tennis shoes on his feet to complete his choice of ring gear.

Wearing a pair of navy-blue panties around his neck like a pair of dog tags, Kenny carried with him a surprising degree of confidence, with the ring announcer reading out his prerequisites next to Tomas, “...from Minneapolis, Minnesota, and weighing in at 150 lbs., he is the Titty-Master, and he is...”

“KENNY G-STRING!!” Smiling out cheekily, the young, early twenties man let the suit-wearing man’s enthusiastic introduction of him permeate through all the rows and rows of spectators.

Sporadic signs of Meet me after the show, Kenny and Master my titties, I just got them fresh were shown up on the big screen, all in his favor.

And yet, his apparent biggest supporter had yet to show up.

The real person of interest for the Lady of Madrid.

But alas, only Kenny sauntered down the ramp with his hands still pumping invisible punches out into the air.

Coming off the ropes, Angelina’s glare was the very picture of fierceness as the Titty-Master took his time climbing up on the ring apron before entering inside.

The music started to reach another guitar-screeching peak once he casually removed the panties adorning his neck, a smile of complete assurance still painted across his face.

Twiddling around the pair of women’s underwear, he showed no fear in boldly walking to the center of the ring, prompting the grunge classic to die down, leaving just him, her, and the ref.

La Dama studied his slightly cocky attitude with eyes rich with years of past experience.

Her eyes did the usual once-over, and then, her body came forward to meet him in the center.

“God….damn….” Kenny breathed out, injecting himself first into the expected verbal exchange. “Y’know, she told me not to stand this close to ya. Especially after….last week, but dang man, if you ain’t the spiciest dish of hot sauce walking in this place. I mean, the Titty-Master is a chick magnet, but sometimes that attraction goes both ways, you feel me?”

Tomas tilted her head to the side, again, studying him.

“Look, I know your English isn’t exactly, well, great, so I’ll just do a little pantomime for you, alright?” Not waiting for a response, he just went for it. “See, me…” the male sexfighter pointed at himself. “....am going to…” He lewdly thrusted his hips forward in her direction. “Fuck the shit out of you.”

“And then…” He cocked another wry grin, “I am going to take those delicious melons right out of the basket…” Again, he demonstrated by initiating some breast groping with his fingers closing in around empty air. “And I am going to-”

Then La Dama hushed him, literally.

With one finger suddenly pressed up against his bottom lip, the Lady of Madrid smiled at him, and spoke clearly, “No more talking, por favor. I want to see what you can do. Then, I will show you what I can do. And then...escucha lo que estoy diciendo, we will be understood. Yeah?”

He didn’t respond to that, so she followed up her own response by patronizing patting him on the cheek.

Then, La Dama sauntered back to her corner, again moving with the sensual grace of a woman well aware of her audience, both in and out of the ring.

Whatever Kenny had in his mouth to say, quickly went down his throat in a hurry, settling somewhat in his groin area as he tossed the ref the panties before backing up, doing away with his jacket as well.

Stretching out his arms some, the Titty-Master began to visibly psyche himself up while the commentators had some final words of pre match banter themselves…


***


“I’m...I’m still lost.” George turned to his partner with that incredulous look still on his face. “Please help this old man understand what exactly we’re about to witness.”

“Kenny wanted this match. He got what he wanted. And in a few seconds, we’re all gonna get what we want, and that’s La Dama back in action after some time away. Seems to me like it’s a win-win,” Kevin told the other man, right as the opening bell rang.

“Seems like, huh?” George cast one more glare up at the top of the entranceway, where there was yet to be a Charlotte West sighting.

Yet.


***


Launching like a rocket out of his corner, Kenny G-String was already buzzing with anticipation for contact (in more ways than one).

Angelina, somewhat shrewdly, walked out of her corner keeping at a somewhat cautionary pace, as if feeling him out first.

Keeping light on his feet, he clapped his hands together with the ref remaining at a neutral distance to witness them both come together.

Even now, with the match officially underway, Kenny seemed to be continually hyping himself up, wearing a bright and upfront smile that somehow didn’t seem as genuine as it would appear.

Apparently seeing all that needed to be seen, Tomas showed her true form.

Breaking into a spirited sprint, she graduated to a more feline pace, dancing from corner to corner.

The dark-haired American, again keeping a smiling face on the outside, employed an interesting strategy of shadow boxing even with the match officially underway.

She flirted with making contact first, but naturally let him use more energy in his attempts to 'ward' her off.

For example, she remained comfortably out of range when he threw a few air jabs at her.

“Careful, babe. Almost hit you with that 1-2-Mayweather there,” he teased her, which barely got a flicker of emotion from the focused female opposite him.

Once the preliminary movements had ceased, then came the collision.

They came together in a traditional tie up, going strength for strength as the opening exchange.

Heights near identical, there was a near even push/pull split for those initial seconds of power jockeying.

Kenny, focusing his stance some, utilized some considerable upper body strength in trying to keep the pendulum of momentum swinging in his favor.

And surprisingly...he was able to push and push, the Lady of Madrid back towards one corner.

Exciting himself at the prospect, he dug his heels in and kept at it, kept driving towards the goal in mind.

Angelina, for once, found herself giving more and more inches of mat to this male sexfighter, his youthful energy proving to be something of an effective counterbalance to her veteran (though somewhat underrated) grappling prowess.

But luckily for her, her grappling was underrated for a reason.

And that reason came to the fore right as he looked to push Tomas into a corner, only for her to quite nimbly extend one leg back behind her, the shapely limb curving through the air and bracing against the middle turnbuckle.

Using that same corner as effective leverage to halt his advance right there, she smiled at him through their interlocked forearms.

He stopped smiling, and then gasped out as she suddenly ducked under the collar-and-elbow grapple to manipulate his momentum to her advantage.

Stumbling into the turnbuckle instead, he turned himself quickly around to put his back to the buckles and his face to-

“Oh shit!” Kenny instinctively flinched the second he saw Angelina’s right hand raised in a striking manner, apparently aimed at his face.

He covered up with a double forearm shield, practically covering away from the Lady of Madrid who kept her hand poised...and her lips curled with a sly grin.

So when the male sexfighter did eventually peek through his protective shell, he was ‘attacked’ only by a playful pat on his right pec.

Muy bien,” La Dama purred at him, as if she was grading his quick response to the feint like a backstage trainer.

She turned around then and sauntered away.

Her ass swayed along to an imaginary rhythm, making Kenny’s mouth start visibly watering with hunger…

“Well?”

He looked up and saw a daring glint in both her dark eyes right as her neck craned over one shoulder.

“My panties are still on, Señor G-String. Ahora, what are you going to do about it?” she teased him, curls of hair framing that intense, expectant leer.

Fighting an immediate urge to shift his hands down to his crotch at that moment, Kenny kept them up and came out of the corner…

… right into another tie up!

They collided again in a clash of upper body strength, and soon therein, a triumph of strategic positioning as La Dama smoothly braced one knee against his chest while falling backwards.

Before even touching the mat, she had already launched him overhead in a monkey flip.

Sailing through the air as he was flipped over on his upper back and neck, the sequence ended with the European sensation rolling up to her feet with a two-handed grip on his right wrist.

With that grip, she pulled him up before even a breather could be had, forcing the Titty-Master to his feet and then immediately grunting out in pain as she twisted under the arm and applied a wristlock to the same limb.

Not breaking the chain of movement for a single second, the Latina woman wrenched some on the captive wrist to keep him practically tiptoeing in pain and discomfort.

“Fuck fuck fuck, easy ea-ow!” No such care was paid to him as she kept twisting on his wrist joint while they nearly spun for a full rotation close to the center.

Then, partially giving her back to him, she draped the same arm around her near shoulder, then judo flipped him to the mat.

Pulling off the snapping motion with relative ease, she hauled him up (again, with ease) to repeat the maneuver with the same degree of success.

Only once he landed on his tailbone for the second time, she followed up by coiling one arm under his jaw, squeezing tight with a rear chinlock.

Pressing the side of her lithe torso against his back, she interlaced both hands together and continued tightening.

And while she did that, his face nearly went red already with a few things.

Shame. Arousal. Asphyxiation.

Or maybe a mixture of the three.

“...aww pobrecito,” she taunted him, lips conveying her sarcastic version of sympathy. “Did your princesa leave you all alone for La Dama?”

He looked up at the ref for a second, and then, responded to her in a wincing gasp, “...fuck, you smell good.”

Tomas tilted her head, again very amused by this American’s antics even while under duress. “Muchas gracias. You had enough yet, mi amor?”

“Nnnggghh...the Titty-Master...knows...no bounds!” With that ‘rousing’ declaration, Kenny managed to power through the chinlock and force his way up.

La Dama went along with him, transitioning the chinlock into a side headlock to keep some semblance of control over the sexfighter of similar height.

A worthy endeavor, but one that saw immediate resistance once G-String got the wherewithal to start peppering her sides with quick elbow shots to the midriff.

Those shots did very little to deter the Lady of Madrid, but they did loosen up the hold just enough for him to reach up with one hand and slip his fingers up to feel up one of her breasts.

Making good on his ring moniker, the Titty-Master started to grope at the well-shaped globe of womanly flesh, his working intentions apparent from within her black bra.

The kneading of her titflesh wasn’t too distracting, but for La Dama, it did give her plenty of incentive to tighten the headlock around his neck.

Groaning out, he went backwards, slinging them both against the ropes while he placed a hand beneath her shoulderblades to shove her off into the opposite set of cables.

Launching her out of the side headlock and into a running start from one side of the ring to the next, he watched her bounce off the ropes and rushed forward to meet her.

He struck first with a clothesline, and she answered with a speedy counter in the form of a forward roll under his striking forearm.

“Whoa crap!” He spun around in a hurry, and for all that received a double shot of foot right in his face, courtesy of a near picturesque standing dropkick from her powerful legs addressed right to his gaping mouth.

The male sexfighter went down on his backside as the Latina sexfighter maneuvered herself into a controlled landing right on her side.

Looking over her shoulder while reassembling herself, La Dama watched the Minnesota man stumble up with one hand grabbing at his features.

Keeping at his periphery, she waited and watched for his turnaround and then lunged forward to deliver a Muay Thai-style high knee right to his gut.

Landing it just above his stomach region, the resulting impact doubled over the Titty-Master who just narrowly avoided dropping on all fours.

But he was brought down to a single knee, which in some ways, was even worse.

For many reasons, but perhaps most notably because she was now able to lift one leg up above his lowered head, and then like an executioner’s downward swing, prepare to bring it down…

… right, until Charlotte West’s music hit.

Eyes and ears all turned back to the top of the entrance ramp, away from the action.

The Pomp and Circumstance orchestral theme swelled, the ensuing chorus of strings bringing about the arrival of-

Esta perra,” Angelina growled out, not surprised but very angry as the second-generation star strutted out in her designer dress and expensive shoes.

The self-proclaimed crown jewel of the SFL walked a leisurely path down the rectangular metal walkway, the crowd booing her at seemingly every step.

But their jeers and boos were somewhat drowned out by the classical piece still playing.

Throwing her pampered blonde locks back over one shoulder, the Princess stopped right in front of the ring apron, a downright impish look adorning her polished features.

Contrasted of course by a stern, borderline seething glare from La Dama at this blatant show of disrespect.

Which, in her culture, meant-

“Hah!” Well, for one, it could often signal a sneak attack by her opponent, which was quite nearly the case here as Kenny went for a running clothesline to try and exploit her ‘distracted’ state.

But the Lady of Madrid always had an eye in the back of her head and responded accordingly by ducking his swinging forearm before it came anywhere near close to connecting.

Returning her focus on the Titty-Master, she snapped one leg up and thrusted her foot at him for-

“Whoa!” Barely, if by a shoestring, he threw himself backwards to avoid history repeating itself, hitting the mat in lieu of getting hit by a superkick.

Once he went down, he kept rolling until he was under the ropes and nearly faceplanting on the outside.

Frustration briefly took to her features with G-String (smartly) taking an unpopular retreat away from her immediate wrath.

And within walking range of the legacy star herself.

Rounding the corner, Charlotte wore a face of mainly annoyance with Kenny pounding the apron in frustration.

“Shit... shit, I thought you said that would work,” he complained to the well-dressed sexfighter at his side now, apparently referring to the failed distraction.

“What did I say in the back, Kenneth? I can only set things up, but you…” She gripped him by the chin, forcing the Titty-Master to meet her beautiful blue eyes. “Have to make it work. Now…”

Her expression tilted up ever resentfully to La Dama. “Go make it work.”

Kenny looked back at her, then back at Tomas.

“....that blowjob better be out-of-this-world good,” he reminded her with a huff, making his mind up by rolling back inside the ring.

Shaking out his arms some as to get back in the mode, Kenny went right back to type and charged the Lady of Madrid with determination (though not tactical restraint) abundant.

Leading with the same arm, he went for a clothesline- but was effectively reversed into an arm drag instead that tossed him to the mat faster than even he thought was possible.

Flipping over with him, Angelina rose up again with that feline quickness, watching him clamber up with comparatively clumsy movements.

He barely had time to make sure his jeans were still level with his waistline before getting winded by a side thrust kick right to the belly.

Nothing but bare skin and lean muscle to stop her foot from nearly cratering in his lower abdomen, the male sexfighter practically crumbled down to a knee.

Setting the pace now, the much more experienced athlete seized him by the hair, pausing only to fix Charlotte with a particularly meaningful glower.

Then, she took him on a short journey from that spot to a turnbuckle corner diagonal to them.

Kenny was led forward...and then smashed headfirst into the top pad.

Head snapping back, he ended up facing her again with a haze in his eyes, and a torso that was almost tragically unguarded- well, maybe not so tragic for her.

Adopting a kickboxing stance, she measured him up, and then slammed her shin into his sternum with a powerfully pointed roundhouse.

Gripping the adjacent rope, she reared back with the same leg and again imprinted the top of her foot against his abdomen.

“Fuck that hurt!” he wheezed out in a miserable tone, sliding down with his rear near level with the bottom turnbuckle.

Smiling, as if in appreciation of his admission, La Dama followed that up by taking her other leg and jamming it directly under his chin, choking him up against the corner.

Frantically gripping her dainty ankle, he started to grow a more visible shade of red given the firmness of her foot against his windpipe.

Not exerting much energy in pinning him to the corner, she continued to be amused by his almost comical slapping at her calf muscle.

Words became hoarser and grunting instead more prevalent for the Titty-Master with the referee forced to count the European sexfighter down…


***


“And did you just hear the impact on those kicks in the corner? Angelina was kicking that poor boy like he owed her money or something. And look here- ah, a foot choke to really rub in that lower body advantage she’s got.”

“Not for long, though.” Kevin noted as the Spanish woman relinquished the corner tactic as the referee threatened to count her down, turning on her heel while he could massage his throat some.

For a solid second, La Dama’s gaze flickered down to Charlotte West, which certainly opened up a new topic of conversation for the two commentators.

“Can’t imagine things are going exactly smashingly for the little miss at ringside. She comes out- moments after the bell had rung mind you, and so far her guy G-String has not been able to sustain any stretch of offense against his opponent. Given the considerable stakes at play here, that’s something he should want to change as soon as possible.”

Going back to Kenny once he had straightened himself against the buckles, Angelina briefly went chest-to-chest with him, even adding a subtle kiss along his neck for perhaps good luck in his immediate travels...


***


… and then Irish whipped him from one corner to its opposite twin.

However, he became aware enough of that destination to reverse the catapult mid-swing and now send La Dama into the buckles.

Launched off without resistance, she turned around to absorb the light impact once she got there, watching as Kenny stopped at the center of the ring to reassess the situation...which took approximately two seconds before he ran at her in another headlong charge.

Never slow on the defensive, Angelina highlighted that catlike agility again by swinging both legs over the middle rope adjacent to the turnbuckle and succinctly slipped out of the ring just as he was upon her.

Hitting the buckles chestfirst, he immediately reeled back from the stinging aftermath of the missed body splash.

On the ring apron now, she reached inside the ring to grab him by the hair, tethering herself to him while on the outside.

Charlotte’s expression was the exact opposite of pleased as she watched the agile veteran scale up the turnbuckle while still holding onto his head with one hand.

Once she was up top, that firm hair grab transitioned into her forcing him into a front facelock under her left arm.

Rising up from her sitting perch atop the top rope, she tossed back that fierce mane of black hair before kicking off into one of her more signature maneuvers.

Swinging around in a half-circle only to fall backwards with his tucked head going along with her, she performed a spinning tornado DDT much to the joy and amazement of the vast majority of fans present (and the growing chagrin of one Princess Charlotte).

Driven to the mat, he narrowly avoided a spike by his forehead bouncing off the mat with the rest of his body flipping over to the side.

Sitting up, the brunette woman smiled out at the instant gratification of the audience approval, letting that fill the air while she floated over to his supine, groaning form.

Moving his limbs somewhat groggily following the faceplant, Kenny at first saw the lights up high, but then, saw nothing but black.

The sheer black of La Dama’s panties settling down over his face, the athletic sexfighter pinning down his shoulders with her legs.

Bracing her palm against his temple, she started to grind ever so sensually on his mouth and nose while her words, dipped in her erotic native tongue, cascaded down over him, “Oh pobrecito…”

His groaning voice was picked up first by the ring mics, while the big screen captured a closeup of the growing tent within his blue jeans.

“Mmmm, nothing like fresh pussy to make a man come alive for La Dama, eh?” she inquired with playful curiosity, rubbing her scantily clad crotch against his stirring face while being keenly aware of the aristocratic set of eyes watching from outside the ropes.

Ah sí,” she cajoled down at him, feeling his desperate tongue trying to bypass the fabric of her panties and access her feminine treasure. “Dime, you want to please my pussy, eh? Make me scream loud for your little princesa?”

He joyously nodded in agreement at her arousing display, the growing boner further speaking to that.

“Pero no.” Her voice returned to a more familiar, grounded edge consistent with her hard-hitting persona, “No, this pussy knows the difference between el hombre muy fuerte y….” She pressed down with added pressure against his jaw. “Una puta, like you, señor. Lo siento, my apologies in advance.”

He was too busy trying to wriggle his tongue along the panty line separating his mouth from her crotch to realize that her hands were on his hair and pulling him off the ground.

Standing up while forcing him to do the same, Angelina webbed her fingers together behind his neck to forge another tether between them.

Holding him securely….as she then laid into his midsection with alternating knee thrusts taken straight from that Muay Thai background.

Sinking hard bone and flesh into his abdomen with every blow, she punished him until he staggered and then ultimately buckled against her grip.

Nearly going down to both knees, G-String needed to be physically hauled back up by La Dama with the same double-handed grip.

Guiding him away from the center, she positioned him with his back to the ropes, only to sink another high knee just under his pectoral muscles.

Taking control of his wrist while leaning into him again, she swung him into the opposite side of the ring, but Kenny did not let go.

Instead, he managed to twist under her arm in facilitating a sudden reversal, now pulling the Lady of Madrid towards him instead!

Swept right off the mat, Tomas found herself hoisted over his shoulders in the form of a standing fireman’s carry.

Grunting and holding in his stomach still from the Muay Thai knee strikes, G-String managed to pull off the lift right in front of Charlotte, whose eyes were seemingly rekindling with hope…

… right until Angelina promptly jammed the back of her elbow against the side of his head to break his concentration, subsequently snuffing out said hopeful flicker.

Slipping out of his arms, she daintily regained her footing while the male sexfighter stumbled forward and then around, eventually facing her.

Measuring him up once they were face-to-face, she pivoted with her hips and then sent another roundhouse hurtling towards his skull.

But he ducked, surprising the fans (and even La Dama to a degree) with the male sexfighter nearly going down on all fours just to evade a potential knockout, even if that response was triggered entirely by pure fear.

Even more surprising was the quickness in which he exploited a rare window of vulnerability form the European woman, lunging at her blindside when her back was partially to him.

Arms swooped around her armpits, bringing her close to him, and by proxy, of course…

“Got ‘em!” With a triumphant cry, Kenny started feeling up Angelina’s chest once more, his fingers going under her bra and groping each individual orb of flesh.

Back-to-belly with him now, she felt a strange tingling in her chest, a stirring feeling she had not felt since her second match with the Gladiator.

“Damn, you’ve got some good ones,” he continued to breathe out, his tone suggesting admiration while his fingers kneaded and pressed into her breasts.

Mashing and squishing her natural cups at the same time, the Titty-Master now started to live up to his name, to the delight of several in the audience (mainly female).

“...oh joder,” she cursed out under her breath, exhaling while his fingertips started to tease each nipple.

“Can’t fight the technique, babe. These hands are cheat codes….” Another groping squeeze elicited something of an audible gasp form her. “...and they’re gonna unlock the gateway to pussyville for yours truly. Fuck, that’s a total boss line. I’m recycling that one.”

Another relishing grab of her chest made Angelina go up on her tiptoes, her aroused breath going out while he grinned.

Grinned...and then yelped out in pain when La Dama suddenly stomped her heel down on his right foot.

Reeling back, he swore out as Tomas tore free from his kneading handling of her chest, eyes narrowed to suggest her noticeably less amused reaction at his free handling of her body.

And she demonstrated that displeasure pointedly by twirling around on her heel to deliver a spinning heel kick right to his ribcage.

Only it was caught, trapped by Kenny’s arm instinctively snapping around her ankles, which surprised both of them.

Angelina for obvious reasons, but for the Titty-Master….

“Shit!” he drew in a sharp breath, realizing his body’s instinctual reaction had kicked in by looking down at her caught leg, and then, back up at her.

“....shit, Charlotte, I fucking got her!” Surprise turned to excitement when he relayed the ‘good news’ to the blonde woman herself, who barely seemed a shade above indifferent.

Then, back at his opponent.

“Yeah…” Excitement then progressed to cockiness. “Yeah, you thought, bitch. You thought you could get one over on the Titty-Master, but guess what? Doesn’t work that wa-uggh!”

Then, La Dama promptly did get one over on him by jumping up and nailing him with her other foot, delivering a standing enziguri kick right to the side of his head.

Letting go, he staggered back in a drunken lurch, body language groggy and unsteady form head down.

Smoothly rising up off the mat after the sharp twist of her hips to pull off the athletic counter, she took a few measured steps back as Kenny was still unbalanced on his own two feet.

Arms swung in nearly every direction as he looked like an out-of-it boxer one solid hit away from outright collapse.

Seconds later, that final blow became a reality as La Dama, after a running start, exploded into him feetfirst with a momentous shotgun dropkick.

Launched backwards like he got shot out of a cannon, he lost all semblance of bodily stability once his back came in contact with the turnbuckle.

Sinking with his legs going first, the Titty-Master barely looked like the master of anything as the camera got a closeup of his youthful eyes doused in grogginess, and his bare, blistering chest reflecting the wrath that came from Angelina Tomas’ arsenal.

Adjusting her bra slightly, the Lady of Madrid’s ascent was as graceful as ever, not one motion wasted as she stood tall with Kenny slumped in the corner.

“¿Aún conmigo?” the female sexfighter called out to him in mock concern, sauntering towards his rather convenient sitting position.

Flickering her eyes to the side revealed Charlotte’s cross scowl, but little else coming from the second-generation sexfighter.

Kenny offered a groaning response, his boner still outlined against his jeans as La Dama was upon him.

Gripping the middle ropes, she flipped her hair back to reveal the fierceness of her dark eyes in their full unobstructed allure.

Lightly slapping his cheek with one hand, she turned to the referee with a shrug, as if to say, He’s still conscious at least, before turning all the way around.

Her back to the corner, and her rear level with his face.

The crowd realized what was about to happen before Kenny G-String, who was perhaps still daydreaming about mastering La Dama’s breasts when she thrusted backwards against his face!

His eyes went wide, his hands went to her hips, and yet Angelina kept her culo exactly where it was intended to be: pushing against and eventually capturing his face in her erotic dance.

Forcing him to move when she did, she swiveled with his hips, gyrating over every grimacing inch and wrinkle of his features.

Ahora...now we have fun, puta,” she laughed with lavish delight, wiggling and working her glutes all over him while he tried (and failed) to resist.

While his muffled protests carried over into her ears, she made sure to keep eye contact with the blonde sexfighter at ringside, her humiliating vice carrying plenty of meaning with every twerk and twist of her trained hips.

Not at all threatened by his fading attempts to free himself, the Spanish woman grinded and grinded some more, giving the Titty-Master so much ass, and at the same time, too much ass to handle.

He barely broke the twenty second mark before ultimately tapping out on her right thigh, having suffered more than enough of her twerking hips.

It was then made official, first by the referee’s call for the bell, and solidified even more by Charlotte’s clear facepalm.

Tomas lifted her tush off of him at last, sauntering back towards her corner without one look back at the dazed Titty-Master.

“....winner of the first fall with a stinkface submission…LA DAMA!!”


***


“I have to give Kenny some credit…”

“...for what, exactly?”

George had to scratch his head some on that one, eventually coming clean to his partner with a somewhat lacking response, “Well, he tried, you know. And what’s that saying, again? ‘If at first you don’t succeed…’”

“Try, try again until you get kicked in the head?” Kevin sarcastically supplied for him.

“His heart is in the right place, is all I’m saying. Maybe there’s a disconnect between that and reality, but he should be commended for at least sticking it out. What do you think his strategy should be now?”

As of now, the two combatants were separated for the mandatory rest period: Kenny, who was still trying to pull himself together in the same corner where he was submitted, and then there was Tomas, who was actually lounging out over the top rope, her legs crossed leisurely.

“Mr. uh, G-String’s strategy should be to bait La Dama to the outside and try and go for a count out win to even things up. That would be the sensible thing, when your opponent has the edge on experience and overall versatility in the ring, as she does. But somehow, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that, since Miss West is out here, for ‘moral support’ or what have you, common sense is not going to be his best friend tonight. He’s going to want to impress her, and unfortunately, it will probably be to his detriment. So his chances of uh, ‘mastering’ Angelina’s titties are very comfortably low.”

“For the best, perhaps. I mean, why focus on the upfront merchandise when he’s got plenty to work with on the back end? Been a while since these old eyes have been blessed with a stinkface out there, and let me tell you...”

“Yes, please do,” Kevin dryly cajoled him on, their conversation continuing on while the break finally bled into the next fall...


***


The referee went between their corners just for a cursory checkup before finally signaling for the timekeeper to resume the match.

Pulling himself up after a whispered (and presumably harsh) pep talk from Princess Charlotte, Kenny stood with his cheeks still red from all that ass in his face.

But alas, he was standing, and that in itself was a commendable feat considering who he was in the ring with.

And while he came out of the corner, La Dama was still lounging on the top rope, smiling like she would against any young, male luchador coming up for more.

Never one to deny anyone their opportunity, she lowered herself back down, both feet touching the mat.

A slight hint of trepidation clearly lingered with the Titty-Master, though, proved by him still staying close to the ropes and not going inward to meet her.

Tomas, with her hips swaying in that calculated sashay meant purely to capture the male gaze (a successful play given the cheers and chants directed to her), walked where he had stalled.

She slowed and eventually stopped, a separation of mere feet between them now.

Her head tilted slightly to the side, first examining the subtle hesitation on his face, and then, her veteran gaze moved over to Charlotte West.

Angelina, in yet another nonverbal message directed straight at the second-generation sexfighter, calmly unclipped her bra from behind and then, let the fabric drop from her flesh.

From everywhere at once, a sea of camera flashes was on her naked chest at once, the firm and fair shape of each breast presented before Kenny.

And at that very moment, his boner could’ve burned right through the jeans with the precum already showing itself.

With her pouty lips, Charlotte rolled her eyes and scoffed, but such a dismissive reaction was not shared by her surrogate sexfighter in the ring.

Seeing that he looked actually starstruck by her bared breasts, though, forced the blonde to bark up at him, “Kenneth- what the hell are you doing?”

“He likes what he sees,” La Dama purred out, her hands on her hips and her hips certainly as inviting as the rest of her upper body. “Don’t you, puta?”

Kenny G-String took a step forward finally, but then after looking at her chest with heightened interest, well, that was all he did.

“Are you serious?” With an angry stomp of her heels, she brought herself up on the ring apron, standing tall despite the referee’s immediate order for her to get off.

“You’re gonna let this overrated cunt disrespect me like this?” she ranted at him.

“Charlotte, you need to get down right no-”

“Hush peasant, I could have you reffing little league baseball in an instant,” the blonde woman quickly snapped at the referee with almost perfectly timed, privileged poise.

“Uh, Charlotte, I’ve got this,” he tried to assure her, though his boner nearly popping right through the zipper suggested otherwise.

“You’ve got it? Like how you had it when she had you in the corner?” Charlotte seethed at him.

Daintily kicking her discarded bra back behind her, Angelina further aroused his senses with a seductive interjection, “La princesa cannot give you what you need, Kenny. Only La Dama can do that.”

His face twitched and twisted with conflicting emotions, but one above the rest won out.

“Kenny, fuck her up, already,” Charlotte growled at him through gritted teeth, a petulant urgency laden in her words. “I am not going to repeat myself. Do it, now!”

“Yes Kenny…” La Dama slightly tweaked West’s words in her sensual, simple statement to him. “Come fuck me.”

“...damn…” He closed his eyes, their two voices almost echoing in his head in a mental tug-of-war.

“Fuck…...fuck!” Balling his fists, he finally charged forward at the Lady of Madrid with his mind apparently made up.

And his first action was to knock down La Dama with a clothesline, which made Charlotte West happy.

But then she ducked his forearm, waited for his turnaround, and then-

“Uggghhh!” The blurring side of her right foot nearly caved in his cheekbone, rocking his head from left to right.

He barely remained standing a second after the roundhouse had successfully landed.

Charlotte’s almost blood lusted eagerness turned to abject horror very, very quickly when she watched the Titty-Master go down like a trunkless tree in the middle of a forest.

Falling fast, and then, face down in the mat with La Dama standing over him with her posture not affected in the slightest.

Still confident, still in control.

And still staring at Charlotte West, who was struck still by what had just unfolded before her very eyes.

Kenny G-String did not move an inch from where he was felled.

Not when the referee knelt down beside him to rub at his shoulder, or when she raised his wrists in the air, only to see it flop down.

Once, twice-

“That’s it, he’s done!” Springing up, she called for the bell to end the match, bringing it all to an end.

Kneeling down, La Dama broke eye contact with the blonde still standing on the ring apron only to pat him somewhat respectfully on the back.

And then, her eyes were back on Charlotte, and away from the defeated man she was now stepping over.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has made a final decision and ordered an immediate stoppage to this contest…”

Charlotte finally broke out of that stupor, shaking her head as if in total disbelief.

But the announcer’s words were to be believed, “...winner of the second fall and the match, with a K.O., I give to you...” Angelina’s lips curled into a victorious smirk as he exclaimed, “LA DAMA!!!”


***


“Quick one, wasn’t it?” Kevin remarked, leaning back in his chair.

George weighed in, “In terms of his long-term health, maybe that was for the better. I can’t fault the kid for trying, but he bit down on that bait so hard the damn hook was sticking right out of his nostrils when she put him down with the head kick. He’ll be wearing that shiner proud to any titty bar in the area, that’s for sure. Now, I wonder: what next for Charlotte?”

“Next? Well, she has to find someone else to fight her battles for her. It’s either that, or take her chances against the former multi-time European champion, and given how impressively on-point and still sharp between the ropes La Dama has shown herself to be tonight, even with time off, I wouldn’t start betting my life savings on the latter. In terms of Angelina, though, I sure hope everyone in the tournament was watching this match with a pen and open notepad, because the moves that she was showing tonight will more than make her a credible- wait...” Kevin had to squint his eyes at what was happening in the area, “Someone’s coming through the crowd.”


***


The referee raised Angelina’s hand before tending to Kenny, helping him beneath the bottom rope where the otter medical personnel had gathered with smelling salts.

Angelina took a second to acknowledge her fans with a smile, but her attention remained on Charlotte.

The second-generation sexfighter had seen plenty of the Madrid native firsthand, and now, there was fear in her eyes at what indeed she saw.

Fear and hesitation.

Still braless, Tomas took one hand and gestured towards the open space between them, as if inviting the aristocratic woman in.

Lips pursed together, the American who had antagonized and personally insulted Angelina Tomas for at least a week straight, finally put one hand up on the top rope, and, tentatively, started to extend one of her legs inside the ring.

Anticipation amongst the spectators grew, but, perhaps against her usual ways, Charlotte almost seemed to give them what they wanted.

What La Dama wanted.

She then started to duck her head in between the cables….and then stopped.

Naturally scoffing, Angelina was about to speak, but then, for all of her years of experience, she paused, too.

Sensing a new presence, she turned and took a step-

“Uggghhhh!”

One step forwards, and then, nothing further of her free will as her back slammed to the canvas with the rest of her body nearly folded in half.

The shoulder of a much larger man nearly speared right through her midriff, knocking her down in what became a spread-eagled position right in front of Charlotte West.

Anticipation now morphed into shouting realization as the Herculean specimen got up off of La Dama.

Cracking his neck in a full rotation, he towered above the grimacing woman as the cameraman finally got a solid glimpse at his face.

Apollo.

Wearing gym pants and a white T-Shirt perfectly accentuating his chiseled sternum, Jake looked down at the sexfighter he just cut down with his signature move…

… and then promptly walked over to Charlotte West and held the ropes open for her.

Able to resume what she was doing, she entered the ring proper with the once-partner of the Goddess looking on with leering intent, particularly at her swinging hips.

Smoothing out her dress some, the pampered Princess stood with her heels pointed at Angelina’s agonizing features, where a fresh wave of heavy booing came down on both of them now after the initial shock wore off.

Looking down at the Hispanic sexfighter, she stretched out one hand off to the side, prompting Jake to stalk over and demand from the ring announcer the one thing that the privileged West desired more than anything.

Attention.

Taking his microphone, the six-foot man returned to his apparent ally, handing it to her and then stepping back while La Dama’s writhing form remained in the frame projected up on the big screen.

With her manicured fingers curling around the grip, she crouched down facing Tomas, and spoke to the veteran indirectly, “Respect me now, ‘puta’?”

Then, she dropped the mic and rose up.

Stepping one foot over the grimacing woman, she waited for Jake to hold the ropes open for her again before walking out on the apron and then down the steps, having exerted exactly as much effort and energy as she had planned before even coming out.

Casting one last disdainful glare at the dark-haired sexfighter still laid out at his feet, Apollo exited the ring right after the second-generation sexfighter.

The booing continued, but the sauntering Charlotte West was entirely immune to the easily ignored noise of all the masses all around.

Following up her rear, he smirked as another referee from the back rushed past them to check on Angelina's crumpled, curled up form.


***


“...the hell is going on?” George wanted to know, the visual of the two walking back up the ramp certainly giving the impression of an alliance. “Apollo- last we saw him was on the PPV, right after that tag with him and Kenzie versus then-rookies Dan Danger and Bux Bunny. Obviously, he did not exit the ring in the most flattering of lights, but now, he’s...he’s with Charlotte?!”

“Pretty sure we’re seeing now what that Miss West intended from the very start." Kevin tried to explain grimly, coming to his own understanding, "Maybe it wasn’t exactly set in motion last week, maybe it was more recent. But either way, I think it’s safe to say that Kenny G-String was just the fall guy in all this. A big, bright red herring, that hid the real Plan A. And that guy has plenty of reason to be pissed, and plenty of muscle to take it out on anyone he, or Charlotte, so chooses.”


***


But no matter what those two could theorize or think of, there were still plenty of questions left for the audience to themselves ponder.

… but for La Dama, there was nothing but pain still blossoming throughout her midsection.

Pain, and a growing fury in her eyes when she turned her head to see them leave up the ramp.


_____________________________________


Author's Note: @[Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register], this one's for you, bud!

- Been waiting a long, long time to finally pay off the little seeds of setup sprinkled in the lead-in to this match, so here it is.

- As Kevin (correctly) hypothesized, our boy Kenny G-String was indeed just a red herring to distract from the real heavy that Charlotte brought in to, let's say, 'humble' all those who won't humble themselves before her. I can imagine this has been in the works for quite a while now, though. Apollo has plenty of professional and even some personal reasons for wanting to get back in the game, and along the way, well, he met someone who could help accomplish both of those goals for him.

- For the purposes of rereading value for future and current readers, there are certainly some subtle hints that Charlotte really did have him in her designer purse all along. She makes mention of contacting an 'associate' at times, and she certainly wasn't lying in her conversation with Dan Danger when pointing out that Angelina would truly learn about disrespecting someone of her pedigree. For his sake, I hope he was watching.

- On another slightly related note, this match was really a lot of fun. In terms of match analysis, I will say that Kenny, despite his lack of sustained offense, did somewhat impress Angelina. Granted, not enough for her to blow him in the end or whatever, but enough for him to take a straight roundhouse to the dome, which...go figure. In terms of La Dama's performance, well, this match was only ever going to be as competitive as she wanted it to be. She had him physically outmatched, and once Charlotte came into play, well, that became just another advantage for her to wield against him, as you saw in the second and final fall.

- Models: Jacob Dooley for Kenny G-String, and Alexa Tomas for La Dama.

- @[Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]: the model for Johnny Laurence is Jason Douglas, but you're definitely right in that he does have some HBK influence in him.

- What happens next? Well, there is that Lioness/Mastodon qualifier, Keiji/Ariel Eckhart, Bux Bunny/Stallion, plus some hidden gems you might also find enjoyable that I'm wrapping on soon, along with more familiar characters.

- Thanks for all the support! Feedback always appreciated.
Attached Images
File Type: jpg LaDama2.jpg (98.8 KB, 208 views)
File Type: jpg KennyG4.jpg (66.0 KB, 37 views)

Last edited by batman4life; 10-May-21 at 03:15.
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Old 08-May-21, 20:47
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Default Re: Tales of the Sex Fighting League

I think that's the first knockout we've had, at least off of a strike. Interesting finish, and poor Kenny G just didn't stand a chance. I was amused at his comedy antics and failure.

This kind of reminds me of HnI, a boxing manga I like. There are always new chars and the matches still interest me all this time later. My favorite series on this forum right now for sure.
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