Untamed and Unforgiven: Cassandra Williams vs. Bengal

[Weonna]

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The lights in the arena dimmed.

Then—

BOOM!

A sudden burst of red and gold pyrotechnics exploded at the top of the ramp.

Spoiler

“Funkyla” by B-Jam dropped over the speakers, the same funky, bass-driven theme that usually heralded the arrival of Ruby Morrison. The crowd reacted instantly, rising to their feet, unsure of what was happening—until they saw her.

Cassandra Williams

Rhe Lioness of B.C.W., emerged from the curtain, her eyes fierce and focused, her lips tight with controlled fury.

Tonight, she wasn’t just here to fight. She was here for retribution.

Wearing her shiny orange singlet styled, Cassandra paused at the top of the ramp. The lighting bathed her in deep red as she lifted one arm high overhead—a silent but powerful salute to Ruby, and a warning to Bengal.

This wasn’t just a match. This was personal.

Cassandra began her descent, each step heavy with purpose. The music pulsed through the arena as she marched toward the ring, her eyes locked dead ahead, her expression unreadable beneath the storm building behind her gaze.

She climbed the steps slowly, deliberately, then ducked through the ropes. Once inside, she walked to the center of the ring. There, she planted her feet and threw both arms up in a bold, defiant stance—letting the world know:

The Lioness had come to hunt.

And this time… she wasn’t leaving without blood.

The music faded. The chants of the crowd echoed through the rafters.

Now, all that remained… was the Tiger.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

The booming bassline of B-Jam's jungle classic soon faded away, as a different entrance theme began to swell through the arena speakers. The dissonant guitars and furious drums of Meshuggah's "Combustion" confirmed what the fans already knew: Bengal was making her way to the ring!

The Blaze Tiger emerged from a cloud of smoke and sparks, and straight into a chorus of angry boos. The fans hadn't forgotten the way Bengal had disrespected Ruby during her last match, or the shocking way she'd bitten Cassandra when the Lioness had confronted her. But the Indian woman didn't seem to have a guilty conscience - or at least, if she did, it wasn't showing on her face. Her expression was relaxed, almost serene. As she stalked down the entrance ramp, fans on either side of the aisle screamed insults at her, but the Tiger wasn't falling for the bait. Her bright blue eyes remained fixed on her opponent, cold and unblinking, like a pair of distant stars.

Bengal, the Blaze Tiger

Spoiler

Bengal vaulted nimbly into the ring, then smirked at Cassandra, her gaze drifting to the bite-shaped bruise on the Lioness' muscular shoulder. She bared her teeth, then snapped them together with a low growl, as the ring announcer's voice boomed out:

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a No Disqualifications match, scheduled for one fall! Introducing first..." he gestured toward the other corner. "From Phoenix, Arizona...standing at a height of five feet, nine inches, and weighing in at 142 pounds...she is the Pride Leader of Big Cats Wrestling! THE LIONESS! CASSANDRA! WILLIAMS!" The crowd roared their approval.

"And her opponent," the announcer continued. "From Kolkata, India...standing at a height of five feet, seven inches, and weighing in at 140 pounds...THE BLAZE TIGER! BENGAL!" The jeers and catcalls from the audience were even louder than the cheers for Cassandra had been, but Bengal seemed to take this as a compliment. She blew a mocking kiss at the stands, then leaned back against the ropes, stretching her toned legs, getting ready to pounce.

She wouldn't have long to wait. The referee was already in the ring, looking back and forth between both wrestlers. "OK, ladies, let's have a good, clean match," she called out. Her tone was firm and even, but Bengal couldn't help but notice the way the official glanced at her as she said the last few words. The Tiger rolled her eyes at the empty threat. She had no intention of keeping her offense "clean", and thanks to the No-DQ stipulation, she wouldn't have to. That was why she'd insisted on this match type in the first place.

DING-DING-DING! The opening bell sounded, and the two feline fighters began to circle each other, searching for an opening. Cassandra was the first to step forward, arms raised, no doubt looking to lock up with her opponent and test her strength. Bengal made the same motion - but as her hands clenched onto the Lioness' brawny forearms, she suddenly drove up her knee, attempting to strike Cassandra between the legs! If her sneak attack was successful, the Tiger would follow up with an STO, stepping over her opponent's leg and throwing her to the canvas with a single, fluid motion.

[Weonna]

Cassandra surged forward, ready to grapple, determined to assert her strength early and shut Bengal down. Her eyes locked onto the Tiger’s, her arms raising to engage in the test of strength—one she was sure she'd win.

But in the instant their hands locked, pain exploded between her legs.

“NGGHH—!!”

Cassandra’s eyes went wide as Bengal’s knee drove mercilessly into her groin, her body jolting violently from the low blow. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp, knees buckling beneath her. The crowd erupted into boos as the Lioness collapsed forward, her toned frame weakened and exposed from the sudden, dirty strike.

Before she could even try to recover, Bengal moved with surgical precision.

The Blaze Tiger stepped in close, hooked a leg, and with a sharp twist of her hips, yanked Cassandra down in a STO!

SMACK!

Cassandra’s back and shoulders slammed into the mat, the momentum knocking the wind out of her lungs. Her arms flopped out wide, legs twitching slightly as she lay stunned, grimacing in pain.

The Lioness gasped for air, one hand instinctively covering the spot of impact, the other bracing weakly against the canvas.

The match had only just begun—and Bengal had already left her winded!

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Even though it wasn't advisable, Bengal couldn't help but take a moment to pose over her fallen opponent, hands planted triumphantly on her hips. "You look better on your back," she sneered, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously. "Just like your jobber friend!" She kicked Cassandra cruelly in the ribs, then backed up a few steps as the crowd howled with indignation.

For a moment, it seemed like the Tiger was being uncharacteristically merciful, giving the other fighter a chance to rise. Unfortunately, that wasn't her plan at all. She was only gaining enough distance for a running start. Moving with the confidence and poise of an Olympic gymnast, she dashed forward and sprang up high, kicking her legs in opposite directions. She seemed to hang in midair for a split-second, before she came crashing down across Cassandra's busty chest with a Split-Leg Drop! The Lioness' toned legs jerked up, and Bengal wasted no time hooking her arms behind her opponent's knees to prevent her from kicking out.

Bengal knew that the maneuver was unlikely to score a victory; Cassandra was still fresh, with plenty of energy to escape. But simply by going for a pin so early in the match, the Tiger was making a statement to her opponent: You're not worth my time. As her drop attack landed, she felt Cassandra's body spasm from the force of the impact, and she knew that the Lioness was getting her message loud and clear. Bengal raised a single, clawed finger in the air, preparing to count along with the referee as the official dropped down to her knees.

[Weonna]

Cassandra lay breathless on the mat, her body still aching from the low blow and the brutal STO. She heard Bengal’s words, the mocking tone curling around her like smoke—

Her brow twitched, but her body couldn’t respond—not yet.

The sudden kick to her ribs forced a sharp gasp from her lips, her back arching slightly from the sting. She winced, hand brushing her side, and as she rolled weakly onto her back, she could feel Bengal moving away. For a fleeting moment, she thought maybe—just maybe—the Tiger was giving her a breath.

Then she heard the thunder of boots pounding across the ring.

Cassandra opened her eyes just in time to see Bengal soar above her, legs splitting wide in a graceful arc—her silhouette framed against the arena lights for a perfect, devastating heartbeat—

Then she crashed down hard, hips and thighs slamming across Cassandra’s chest with a punishing Split-Leg Drop!

“Unnngghh—!”

The Lioness let out a breathy moan as her ample chest compressed under Bengal’s weight, the impact rocking her entire body. Her legs kicked upward instinctively—but the Tiger was ready.

Bengal hooked her arms around Cassandra’s thighs, folding them inward, pressing her tight, almost possessively. Their bodies were entwined now—flesh against flesh. Cassandra’s toned legs quivered slightly in Bengal’s grasp, her cheek flush against the canvas, lips parted in a dazed, breathy whimper.

The crowd leaned in as the referee slid beside them, slapping her hand to the mat:

ONE…!

Cassandra’s heart pounded. Her pulse fluttered against Bengal’s thigh.

TWO…!


Then—a sudden surge.

The Lioness twisted her hips and kicked out, her powerful legs forcing Bengal’s arms apart!

Cassandra’s body flopped sideways, her chest heaving, skin glistening beneath the lights as she lay curled, one arm draped protectively across her bruised front.

[Weonna]

Cassandra lay breathless on the mat, her body still aching from the low blow and the brutal STO. She heard Bengal’s words, the mocking tone curling around her like smoke—

Her brow twitched, but her body couldn’t respond—not yet.

The sudden kick to her ribs forced a sharp gasp from her lips, her back arching slightly from the sting. She winced, hand brushing her side, and as she rolled weakly onto her back, she could feel Bengal moving away. For a fleeting moment, she thought maybe—just maybe—the Tiger was giving her a breath.

Then she heard the thunder of boots pounding across the ring.

Cassandra opened her eyes just in time to see Bengal soar above her, legs splitting wide in a graceful arc—her silhouette framed against the arena lights for a perfect, devastating heartbeat—

Then she crashed down hard, hips and thighs slamming across Cassandra’s chest with a punishing Split-Leg Drop!

“Unnngghh—!”

The Lioness let out a breathy moan as her ample chest compressed under Bengal’s weight, the impact rocking her entire body. Her legs kicked upward instinctively—but the Tiger was ready.

Bengal hooked her arms around Cassandra’s thighs, folding them inward, pressing her tight, almost possessively. Their bodies were entwined now—flesh against flesh. Cassandra’s toned legs quivered slightly in Bengal’s grasp, her cheek flush against the canvas, lips parted in a dazed, breathy whimper.

The crowd leaned in as the referee slid beside them, slapping her hand to the mat:

ONE…!

Cassandra’s heart pounded. Her pulse fluttered against Bengal’s thigh.

TWO…!


Then—a sudden surge.

The Lioness twisted her hips and kicked out, her powerful legs forcing Bengal’s arms apart!

Cassandra’s body flopped sideways, her chest heaving, skin glistening beneath the lights as she lay curled, one arm draped protectively across her bruised front.

The crowd gave a small cheer, relief that the match didn't end too soon.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Cassandra kicked out just before the three-count, but the damage had already been done. A near-fall so early in the match had left the Lioness rattled. Even the cheers from the crowd seemed unusually subdued. Bengal rolled with the momentum as the orange-clad fighter shoved her away, swiftly rising to her feet as she clicked her tongue critically. "A two-count already?" she gasped, feigning surprise. "You know, for a Pride Leader, you don't have much to be proud of..."

The only response from the Lioness was a low moan. Bengal smiled deviously, then thrust both her arms beneath Cassandra's spine, flipping the other woman over like a side of beef on the grill. Straddling her prone opponent, the Tiger held up her painted nails to catch the overhead light, their honed edges gleaming. Then she began slashing at Cassandra's exposed back, shredding the thin, shiny fabric of her singlet to reveal the flushed, sweaty skin beneath. By the time she stopped, the Lioness' outfit was in ruins, and her back was a patchwork of cruel red scratches.

"Mmm, that feels good," Bengal purred, stretching out across her helpless opponent, as if she was about to lie down for a catnap. Extending a single finger, she prodded it into Cassandra's slack-jawed mouth, forcing the Lioness to gag. "You know, you make a better scratching post than your friend did," the Tiger continued, while the other woman stirred weakly underneath her. "She screamed too much...you're nice and quiet."

The Indian woman rose to her feet as she spoke, planting her heel in the small of Cassandra's back as she wrenched her opponent's arms behind her. "Let's make sure you stay that way!" she finished, a manic fire burning in her eyes. Then she drove her leg down like a piston, stomping Cassandra face-first into the canvas. Several fans in the front row winced and turned away, unable to stomach the Tiger's sheer brutality. Others kept stubbornly cheering for Cassandra, willing the Pride Leader to make a comeback.

[Weonna]

Cassandra’s body jolted as Bengal rolled her over like a discarded trophy, the Lioness groaning softly, her limbs heavy, her mind swimming in a haze of pain and humiliation.

The sudden sting of Bengal’s claws tore a sharp gasp from Cassandra’s lips—

“Ahhh… nghh…!”

—her back arching instinctively as the Tiger’s nails raked down her exposed skin. She could feel the thin fabric of her gear peeling away, feel the cool air hit the raw, reddened stripes now blazing across her back.

Her breath quickened, cheeks flushed, a delicate moan slipping past her parted lips as Bengal straddled her, the weight pressing her down into the mat. When she felt the Tiger’s finger slide arrogantly into her mouth, Cassandra gagged softly, her jaw flexing as she turned her head, muffled sounds vibrating in her throat.

But beneath the haze… something stirred.

As Bengal yanked her arms behind her, heel digging cruelly into her back, Cassandra clenched her teeth. Her body tensed. The moment Bengal’s foot stomped her head toward the canvas, Cassandra let it crash—but her hands immediately shot forward, palms slapping the mat.

The crowd gasped.

Slowly, deliberately, Cassandra began to crawl.

Fingertips scraped across the mat, elbows pulled tight, trembling thighs pressed into the canvas as she dragged herself toward the ropes. Her chest heaved, sweat dripping from her brow.

If Bengal were to turn, she would see Cassandra gripping the bottom rope, dragging herself upright inch by inch. Her hair was wild, cheeks flushed, and her singlet hung half-shredded across her shoulders, exposing the vivid scratches down her back.

But when Cassandra looked up… she was smiling.

With a hoarse, breathy chuckle, the Lioness planted one knee under herself, eyes blazing as they locked on Bengal’s.

“You’re gonna have to claw harder than that, kitty,”

Cassandra rasped, voice thick with defiance.

“I’m still standing.”

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal's stomp hadn't had quite the impact she hoped for. Not only was Cassandra able to crawl to the ropes and pull herself back to her feet, but she was smiling and joking as she did so. The Tiger tried to hide her annoyance with a feline grin of her own. Yet her azure eyes remained cold and merciless, somewhat giving her game away.

"Still standing? Barely," she fired back, eyeing the Lioness' wobbly legs and shredded singlet. "I'm glad you are, though. Makes it easier to do THIS!" With that, she sprang forward and seized onto her opponent's arm, digging her nails in for purchase on the sweat-slick skin. She yanked on the trapped limb as she shoved the other woman hard in the small of the back, sending her into the ropes with an Irish Whip!

As Cassandra rocketed toward the edge of the ring, Bengal started forward as well. She flexed her taut legs and raised one knee, preparing to hit the Lioness with a Big Boot on the inevitable rebound. As usual, the Tiger was three steps ahead of her opponent - at least, that's what she liked to tell herself.

[Weonna]

Cassandra hit the ropes with momentum burning in her veins, pain radiating through her body—but she used it, fed off it. As Bengal lunged with her leg raised for a Big Boot, Cassandra ducked low, the wind of the attack grazing over her head as she slipped underneath.

Her boots thundered against the mat as she rebounded off the opposite ropes. She spun on the return and flung her arm out, slamming into Bengal’s chest with a powerful clothesline that knocked the Tiger down hard. Cassandra staggered but didn’t stop.

She backed into the ropes again—her shoulder aching, her breath ragged—and came back with a second clothesline, knocking Bengal down once more. Her body screamed, but her pride roared louder.

The crowd was growing wild now, cheering her on and willing her to keep going.

"One more."

She gritted her teeth and charged forward, planting her feet and swinging with all her might for the third clothesline!