Trojan Horseplay – Storm’s Revenge

[hamish1024]

Continued from: https://law-rp.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=18&t=16929

Revenge. After Wendy Winston royally fucked up their first day in LAW, the newbie pair of Storm and Lyssa could think about little else. Their in-ring aspirations could wait – hell, Storm had been slammed on her back so hard that most of her first week was an enforced medical absence from wrestling, anyway – and their attentions turned to plotting payback on Wendy.

Lyssa, impatient as ever, had been itching for an immediate attack. She hadn’t actually met Wendy in the flesh – the smaller girl had just been taunted via facetime, while her partner Storm suffered alone – but was far the more vocal about their vengeance. Deep down, she felt a nagging sense of guilt about being absent when her ally was ambushed, and whilst she wasn’t going to do anything so self-reflective as apologise to Storm for not helping, Lyssa was still determined to make things right. Ideally, by swiftly kicking the crap out of the smug bitch who had ruined her first night.

Storm, meanwhile, had been brooding. The pain and the humiliation of being broken by Wendy had taken its toll, and the stoic Scot had been even more quiet and moody than usual for the past few days, as she dwelt upon her degradation – and how to make Wendy regret it. A quick and dirty assault in the locker room, as Lyssa wanted, wouldn’t quite cut it. Storm’s vengeance didn’t just need to be painful, it needed to be prolonged and punishing, it needed to send a real message that she was not to be pushed around. She’d managed to convince Lyssa to avoid going on the attack for now, with the promise that if they waited, they would get to bring a heap load more torture down on Wendy’s head.

Lyssa, usually the more openly vicious of the pair, loved it when Storm revealed her sadistic side, and was eager to see what evils the Scot was cooking up. She was less thrilled, though, when they met on a city bench around the corner from Wendy’s apartment, so that Storm could go over the details of her plan.

With a sly grin, Storm showed Lyssa the messages she had been sending to Wendy’s session wrestling website, under an assumed name. She was hoping to trick Wendy into letting Lyssa walk right through her front door… unsuspectingly, of course.

To: Mistress Wendy
Subject: Session Booking

Um, I’ve never done anything like this before and am SUPER nervous, but I was hoping I could book a session with you in the next couple of weeks? I love all your LAW matches and the videos on your site.

I am 20yo F, blonde, 5’7’’, 125lbs ish. I’m a huge fan of the videos where you work through some apartment wrestling moves and then the “loser” is dragged to the bedroom to take a facesitting forfeit. If we could arrange something like that, preferably for an evening session, it would be amazing. If we need to discuss anything else let me know, I am new to all of this (but excited to learn)! - S

To: SexySimp04
Subject: Re: Session Booking

Not a problem, honey! I'll be nice and gentle for your first time. 

Everything you're talking about is doable, no problem. Rate's simple: $300 for an hour, recording is $50 extra. Send me a $100 deposit and I'll set you up - how's this Saturday at noon sound?

To: Mistress Wendy
Subject: Re: Session Booking

Oh amazing!! Not TOO gentle I hope!! This Saturday is fine, and if I can get a recording too that would be awesome. I have sent you the deposit, looking forward to seeing you, I have been thinking about nothing else for days!!

Storm outlined the plan as Lyssa skim-read the messages.

“You want me to wear WHAT!?” spluttered Lyssa as she got up to speed with what Storm was suggesting.

“A wig. It’s just a blonde wig. If we cover your blue hair, she won’t recognise you,” Storm assured her.

“Hmph. I’m bait. You’re using me as bait!!” Lyssa sulked.

“Och, it’s just to get inside her apartment, sweetie,” Storm soothed, patting her parner on the knee. “Once you’re up there, you can let me in too, and we will take this bitch apart, together.”

Lyssa kept pouting as she reluctantly put the blonde wig on, long golden tresses now framing her face.

“I swear,” Lyssa sighed, “you’re doing this less for payback on her, and more to make me have to pretend to be a subbie!!”

Storm cackled at her friend’s irritation. “Aw, what’s the matter, you going to act like you don’t want a big, strong woman to wrestle you down and sit on your face??” she purred, playfully prodding her partner. “We could nip into the back alley and I could give you a quick stinkface, help you get into character?” she grinned.

“Er, no. Fuck you very much,” Lyssa scowled, clenching her jaw. She took a deep breath and stood up. “Right, should be about time for my booking. Make sure you’re ready to have my back.”

“Sure thing, simp,” Storm smirked, watching as her ally walked round the corner to the front door of Wendy’s flat. Lyssa really did look different in her long blonde wig, with her casual street clothes and nondescrpit jacket and bag, you would struggle to place her as the blue-haired punk of the ring.

Lyssa pressed the buzzer and waited to be let in. She tried to forget about Storm’s gentle gloating, and instead focused on making herself look nervous, shifting from foot to foot as she glanced at Wendy’s door camera.

[BlackAkuma]

Another day, another dollar.

As Wendy sat in front of her vanity mirror, she checked the clock once more - five minutes until her client arrived. She was cutting it close, but she had enough time to put the finishing touches on her get-up, and she looked over to ensure everything was just right. She’d thoroughly rinsed her hair, making sure it was nice, shiny, and shimmering, her trademark look. She’d opted for a black one-piece leotard to contrast it, and it did an excellent job of highlighting her breasts and her ass - the way it crept up between her cheeks? You couldn't ask for a better facesitting outfit. Some of her best clips had sold off this look, and while she didn’t know which ones her client had bought, it was a safe bet they’d seen this look before and drooled over it.

Wendy put the final touches on her nails, blew off the black polish, stepped away from the mirror, and made her way out of her bedroom into the main area, where everything was setup for an ideal session. The clean and pristine mats covered the floor where her furniture had been only a couple of hours ago, and the smell of Clorox still hung in the air. Not that she expected to spend too much time on them - no, from the sound of the person in this email, she was dealing with a total sub, the kind of guy that would get knocked over if a stray wind came their way. They would meet on the mats, she would be all smiles, she’d maybe let them get in a couple of moves so their egos weren’t totally cracked, then she’d get them on their back, drag them into the bedroom, and spend the next forty or fifty minutes planting her ass on their faces while they made stupid noises.

Boom, cut the check. Wendy loved her job, and she’d been loving it more than usual in the past few weeks. This new client had come at the best possible time, while Wendy was still vibing off the high she got from konking out Storm. Her backstage beatdowns always got her in the mood for some more intimate fun, and this was the best way to get her rocks off and make some bank in the process.

She chuckled to herself and made her way around the mats, taking care not to step on them early and get them any dirtier than need be, until she made her way to the kitchen counter, where her cell phone waited. After a few quick button presses, the Bluetooth stereo started up and a soft, lo-fi beat began to play over the apartment, something slow and rhythmic, the perfect thing to get her client in the mood. She’d been doing this long enough to know it all came down to setting the mood. You needed them relaxed, unafraid, collected. They needed to almost think of you like a friend, even if they’d only known you for a few minutes.

She needed them to forget that this was a business transaction and that she would get her money regardless of how they felt about the service. She’d had way too many clients try to flake out on her not to be wary of the bullshit. No, she was an up-front pay kind of girl these days.

Speaking of which…

Wendy lit up at the sound of her doorbell, took a quick swig of bottled water from the fridge, and skipped over to the door, only stopping when she was close enough for her footsteps to be heard. This was an important part - you wanted the subs to think you were in control of things, that they were on your time and not the other way around, but you didn’t want them to get scared and leave, either. After a healthy amount of waiting, ten or so seconds, she opened the door and let the cool night in, finding herself looking down at an unassuming little blonde twig.

Hands on hips, she brought her best vulpine smile and looked down at her prey, making sure to strike a perfect figure. ”Hey, there. Looking a little nervous.” She giggled under her breath and stepped aside, giving her client some space to enter. ”Come on in, sweetie.”

[hamish1024]

‘Come on… come on…. Take the fucking bait…' Lyssa muttered to herself as she waited for Wendy to open the door. She’d made sure to act the nervous sub, but some of the butterflies in her stomach were real – the next few moments were going to be crucial, if Storm’s mad plan was going to work. Not that Lyssa was scared, as such – you didn’t become a pro wrestler if you shied away from danger, and Lyssa had long ago learned to savour the sweet adrenal rush from anticipating something crazy. Still, if things went tits up here, she’d be trapped in the apartment of a big, angry domme, and that wasn’t exactly how Lyssa wanted to spend her afternoon. So, the normally reckless wrestler was really quite focused on pulling off her part of this plan, as smoothly as possible.

Finally, the door opened. ‘Into the lion’s den…’ she mused, as she looked up, stepped forward, and fixed Wendy with a shy smile. Lyssa’s brown eyes widened as she took in this woman, in the flesh for the first time.

“Ah, uh, hi Wendy! Hah, yeah, I think maybe I should be a little nervous, right?” Lyssa replied haltingly, trying to keep her usual accent as neutral as possible. She didn’t want to give Wendy any cues that would help her to place her identity prematurely. Lyssa meekly stepped into the space that Wendy had vacated, drawing her into the apartment.

“You look stunning, by the way,” she said breathily. No lie there, this woman was statuesque, a real imposing figure in the flesh. Lyssa hadn’t had all the details from Storm about how Wendy had managed to wrangle her into an ambush, but she suspected that those model-fine looks, coupled with that impressive show of cleavage, had probably played a part. The less-chesty Lyssa felt a brief pang of annoyance that her partner had dumbly fallen for a big pair of boobs, but now was not the time to dwell on that. With her sleek hair, black nails, and tight one piece, Wendy looked ready to dominate, reminding Lyssa that she could not get distracted from her mission here.

“Nice set up for the wrestling,” she stammered as she took in the antiseptic-scented mats, taking up much of the floor space in this shiny, open-plan apartment. Again, the smaller girl spoke truthfully, this living space was enviously chic. The subtle beats on the stereo were a nice touch, another sign she was dealing with a pro.

“A barefoot bout, right? I’ll get changed in a sec…” Lyssa was still in her street clothes, and she started to fiddle with the small backpack slung over her shoulder. “So, we agreed on a submission bout, with a smother forfeit, right? Mind, uh, showing me the bedroom where the smother toy gets taken?” she smiled coyly.

Sure, she was curious, but what she really needed was for Wendy to turn her back on her. Tucked inside her backpack was a brand new gadget she’d been itching to try – a sci-fi-looking Japanese stun rod, a pretty white thing, almost seemed like something you’d get in the Apple store, were it not for the vicious-looking prongs at the business end. Lyssa had been delighted at the crackle it had made when she’d first switched it on, and although the Japanese instructions had made no sense to her, she was pretty sure that sticking it into an enemy would be bad news for them.

Her fingertips brushed against the top of her backpack, like a duellist in a Western, waiting for the draw. ‘Turn your back, big girl,’ she willed silently, just waiting for the right moment to slip out her stun rod and jam the high-voltage weapon between Wendy’s shoulders.

[BlackAkuma]

There was a moment - a brief flash of a second - where something tipped up in the back of Wendy’s head. Call it intuition, call it a second sense, call it feeling funny, but something about this client lit a fire of remembrance. Something about that face and the voice that went along with it was familiar, and she couldn't quite place it. It stayed maddeningly on the edge of her recollection, irritatingly close to breaking the surface, so close she could almost make sense of it…

…but no. In the end, she couldn't quite connect the dots. Maybe they’d been at one of her matches, and the face had stuck with her. That was the only explanation she could come up with. She supposed it didn’t matter much - they were here, paying, about to get their faces smashed.

Her furrowed brow gave way to her usual relaxed gaze, as she gave her client a good look over. Not much meat on those bones. She’d have to be a little gentle. The last time she went all out on a paying customer, they’d wound up going to the hospital for broken ribs afterward, and that led to a whole Instagram fiasco. She was eventually able to convince everyone that the guy was full of shit, pretending like his ego was the only thing that had been bruised and that he’d skimped on the payment, but she wasn’t looking for a repeat.

When a compliment was thrown her way, she stepped back and gave them the full view of her body, even spinning in place for a quick turn so they could enjoy every angle. They’d be up close and personal soon enough, sure, but she wanted it to sink in first, wanted them to savor the look before things started getting wild. ”Why thank you, sweetie. You’re not bad on the eyes yourself.” They were 5 out of 10 at best, but it was always nice to give them a little treat, make them think you found them attractive, and that there might be a ghost of a chance of things getting more intimate than what they paid for. It’d never happen, but hope was a powerful thing.

She nodded along as they brought up the rules. ”Yup, barefoot. Leave your shoes at the door, don’t want dirt getting on the mat.” She might’ve been a country girl, but that didn’t mean she’d abide by an untidy living space. ”And yeah, smother forfeit. When-” She had a coy laugh. ”...if you lose, I’ll take you back here, where the real magic happens. Got a few surprises for you.”

She turned away and started to make her way towards the bedroom, making sure to give her hips an ample amount of shake with every step. Wendy had only begun to open her mouth, preparing another sly line to get them turned on, only for a scream to come through her lips instead as her back exploded with searing, indescribable pain. She fell forward, with the mats being her sole saving grace, and flopped about for a few seconds as the agony ran its course.

”What-” She blinked a few dozen times and feebly tried to push her way up, as her fragmented mind attempted to make sense of things. ”What just-”

[hamish1024]

“Ooh, I like surprises,” Lyssa cackled, a cruel edge creeping into her previously coy voice, as Wendy turned her back, providing the British girl with an ample target for her ambush. With deft fingers, she drew the stun rod from her pack, flipped the switch, and jammed it snugly into Wendy’s back.

ZAP. A satisfyingly explosive electric crackle, and an equally satisfying scream forced from Wendy’s mouth.

It was a smooth strke from Lyssa, but the impact on the victim was anything but, as the bigger woman spasmed and then fell gracelessly onto the mats with a solid thud.

“Aww, we got dirt on the mats, after all,” she sneered, taking a step toward her downed victim. “Oh, shit, you’re actually still concious? Congrats, I guess,” Lyssa added, matter-of-factly, before lifting up her boot and STAMPING it down onto the back of Wendy’s disoriented head. “Yeah, I might not go barefoot for this bout after all,” she smirked, bringing her foot up again and delivering another pacifying stamp, this time onto Wendy’s shoulders.

“You know, I thought I had that gizmo on the maximum setting,” Lyssa mused. “Ah well, maybe we can play aroung with it later and figure out what all the buttons do. That’ll be fun, won’t it?” With a sadistic grin, Lyssa delivered a third kick, to her victim’s ribs, and then turned to set the taser down on the nearby worktop.

“First things first though, eh?” Lyssa announced, briskly marching back to the apartment door and unlocking it from the inside, throwing it open. “STORM? YOU THERE? BITCH’S READY FOR YOU!” she yelled into the corridor, subtle as ever.

Storm had been hanging back, careful not to be noticed on any home security cameras Wendy might have. The big brunette had been wondering whether she had made the right play here, gambling with Lyssa and using her as bait. Her friend was an annoying walking headache, but Storm knew she’d feel awful if anything happened that was her fault. She gave a relieved grin when she heard the crass call from Lyssa. Needn’t have worried after all! Relief soon turned to relish – her long-awaited revenge was ON.

The tall Scot strode down the corridor and made her way to the open door, smiling at her partner, then entering and locking the door behind her. “Ooh, nice place,” she cooed as she looked around, before turning to the figure sprawled on the mats. “Hey Wendy, remember me?” Storm hissed, with barely-contained bitterness. “I think we have some unfinished business, don’t you??”

Storm ditched her jacket, leaving her clad in blue track pants and a tight vest top. As badly as she wanted to smash Wendy’s face in, she held back for now, interested to see how badly Lyssa had managed to incapacitate her. Her partner had instinctively circled round to the other side, so even if Wendy was able to get upright, she’d still be surrounded.

“Oh, can I finally take this dumb thing off?” Lyssa chimed, ripping away the blonde wig to reveal her short blue hair. “Itchy as fuck!!”

“Aye, only one dumb blonde around here,” Storm grinned, eyes locked on Wendy as she savoured this moment of sneaky payback. “And she’s about to get fucking pulverised…”

The Scot would help Wendy to her feet, by means of a rough hairpull, getting behind her to lock her in a standing full nelson hold, painful and controlling, but benign enough that Wendy could take a moment to consider how screwed she was.

[BlackAkuma]

”What…what the fuck…”

A thousand and one questions were going through Wendy’s mind at the moment, as her scrambled brain went into overtime, desperately trying to make sense of the wild situation. She was clearheaded enough to realize that she’d been shocked, likely with a stun gun of some kind. She actually had experience with that, one of her toys was a cattle prod, though it didn’t have anywhere near the same level of body-numbing voltage. This shock was enough to floor her and leave her stunned. Where the hell had it come from? Had someone snuck into her apartment after the client? But it sounded like they were talking now, and their voice had changed, and-

Oh. Oh, shit.

Wendy’s eyes widened in sheer panic as the realization set in and memory took hold, recalling where she’d heard that silly little voice from. It had been coming through a phone the last time she heard it, but now it was unmistakable. Storm’s friend. Lyssa. The snotty little bitch she’d called up and made watch the domination. She was here, she’d gotten the jump on her, which probably meant her partner wasn’t too far away.

Not good. Not good at all. It gave even more urgency to Wendy’s need of escape plan, but she was stopped before she could get too far by a boot to the head, slamming into her skull and driving her head into the mat. Another kick followed, this time in her back, but worst of all was the timing - she’d known Lyssa for all of one minute total, and she could already say this was one of the most annoying bitches she’d ever met.

”Fuck you, you fucking-” A kick in her side put an end to that tirade, leaving her to cough and wallow on the mat. She spied a small sliver of hope, however, when Lyssa left the shock device on a nearby table. She didn’t like her chances, but she had to go for it. Desperate, she pushed her way up to her knees, feebly reaching for it as Storm made her way into the apartment and closed the door behind her.

Closer…closer…closer...

The futile effort came to an abrupt end when Stormy grabbed her hair, forced her up, and seized her with the full nelson, pulling her into a tight hold. She sagged in the grip at first, before rage gave her new energy and she began to struggle, flailing and kicking her legs at Lyssa. ”Get the fuck off me, cunt!” She spat and jerked her head around, twisting and turning every which way as life returned to her body. ”Gonna fuck you both up!”

[hamish1024]

“Whoah, were you going for this?” Lyssa held up the stun rod and tutted. She’d been too busy removing her blonde wig to see the move from Wendy, so it was a good thing Storm had grabbed her when she did. “Naughty girl! We can play with it later if you’re so keen, but not now!” Lyssa went over to her discarded backpack and zipped the toy away, so as not to provide any further temptation for Wendy.

The resulting cascade of curse words, as Wendy writhed in the full nelson hold, made Lyssa cackle. “Oh, what a charmer!” she mocked, as the victim quickly showed her true colours by turning the air blue. “I can see why you were taken in by her, Storm,” Lyssa added impishly, prodding at her partner.

“Aye, well, the mask has slipped a lot fucking quicker this time around, hasn’t it?” Storm hissed into Wendy’s ear, as she grappled with the white-haired girl, reigning her in despite her squirms and her kicks. The Scot felt a faint twinge in her spine as she tightened up the hold on Wendy’s arms. Storm was annoyed that she still wasn’t at a hundred per cent, but she was confident that she had sufficient strength to cause her enemy a whole world of pain.

Storm stayed standing for now though, as Lyssa instinctively dodged Wendy’s wild kick, and responded by plucking her flailing foot out of the air, holding Wendy’s leg upright to leave her balanced awkwardly on one foot.

“She’ll learn some manners, soon enough,” grinned Lyssa, as she casually took Wendy’s bare foot in both hands and twisted it sideways, stressing the victim’s unprotected ankle. “Like, not to try and fucking kick me, for one.” Lyssa looked into her opponent’s eyes, smiling wickedly as she idly tortured her ankle. “You can manage that, yeah?” With her trademark short attention span, Lyssa soon dropped the hold, releasing her right arm… only to pull it back into a fist, and then drive a quick uppercut in between Wendy’s spread legs.

The smaller girl skipped away with a giggle, eyes lighting up as she spied Wendy’s phone on the kitchen counter. Meanwhile, Storm was enjoying the feel of Wendy suffering in her arms, but felt it was time to up the ante. She rallied her strength, and used the full nelson hold to hoist Wendy up into the air, before dropping to a seated position, slamming Wendy down hard onto her ass. Storm would then get to one knee and quickly regain control of Wendy’s arms, yanking them backwards whilst still sat on her backside, jamming her raised knee into Wendy’s shoulders, to trap her in a surfboard stretch.

“Bring the phone here, Lyssa,” grunted Storm as she started to apply pressure to her surfboard hold. “Let’s see if her face unlocks it, I want to see if we can’t get the match recording started...”

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy grunted out her annoyance as Lyssa continued to taunt her, playing with the rod and putting it back away. Right now, she would’ve traded anything to have that stun stick in her hand so she could ram it right in the little bitch’s face and shock the fuck out of her, get that stupid smile off her stupid face. While she’d only known this woman for a short amount of time, she was already getting to the point where she supremely hated the blue-haired bitch. She was one of those kinds of people - smart-ass little idiots who thought every sentence they spoke was hilarious and couldn't shut up for ten whole seconds. Wendy would’ve wanted to kick her ass if they’d met on principle alone, never mind the fact that she’d broken into her damn house.

For now, she would’ve settled for just kicking the bitch, but she was denied even that when Lyssa showed her quickness and snatched her leg out of the air, leaving Wendy to balance awkwardly on one foot while Storm kept her restrained. It would’ve been a pain enough by itself, but then Lyssa had to go and make it worse by twisting her ankle, throwing it out of whack while Wendy could only struggle and twitch in her grasp, gritting her teeth to endure the pain. She was close to the breaking point when it was finally released, but the damage had been done - by the time her foot was released, she wasn’t in any condition to stand on the damned thing for a while, making her already slim chances of escape far slimmer.

”You dirty little-” Her invectives were cut off with a sharp blow to the crotch, making her squawk and lurched forward as her pussy took the punishment. While taking damage to that particular area was never fun, it was far worse when delivered by a snot-nosed little bratty bitch, and she would’ve fallen flat if not for Storm’s steely grip on her.

As it turned out, though, she was going to the floor anyway, as Storm lifted her up, fell down, and drove her ass hard onto the mat, sending a shock throughout the apartment. The blow’s impact traveled up her spine and left the Backstage Bully tingling, a feeling that only grew worse when a knee was jammed into her middle.

”You goddamn, fucking-” Her curses devolved into guttural grunts and groans as she kicked her legs around, squirming about. ”You’re both dead, you hear me? You thought what I did was bad to you before, huh? Just wait, just fucking wait!”

[hamish1024]

Storm felt a slight tightening in her gut as Wendy spewed her vicious invective. She knew all too well that Wendy, if let off the leash, was more than capable of extreme violence. That’s why the Scot was pleased to have pulled off this trick, and have her firmly under control in this nicely lopsided scenario. Wendy was a bully, and Storm was determined to stand up to her. If that took the form of a prolonged humiliation session to teach her a lesson, then so be it. She dug her knee firmly into the victim’s back, and slowly cranked back on her arms, tightening the surfboard.

This left Wendy trapped in place, and perfect for Lyssa to approach with the phone, holding it up to the white-haired woman’s furious face to unlock the security. The smaller wrestler beamed, as she suddenly had access to her enemy’s apps.

“Hmm… let me see…. Yes, we can set off the web cams, no problem!” Lyssa beamed, tapping a few buttons and then putting the phone back on the side.

Storm glanced around at the cameras situated through the apartment, and nodded. “Right, then, bitch” she snarled from behind her captive. “Should be business as usual for you – a spot of mat wrestling, and an arse to the face for the loser, just like you agreed to, right?” A cruel grin was spreading on Storm’s normally stoic features, not that Wendy would be able to see it. “With just a couple of slight changes – firstly, as I think you can tell, it’s a two-on-one, and secondly, I think it’ll have to be an accepted submission match. Meaning… this isn’t over until we fucking tell you it’s over, okay?” Storm leant in to add the last declaration with real relish.

Meanwhile, Lyssa had returned from fiddling with the phone, to stand back in front of Wendy.

“I think she’ll do well in this match. She’s got spirit. I like her!” the blue-haired girl beamed sardonically. In truth, Lyssa was rather impressed at Wendy’s pure, undiluted rage, and was making mental notes about how to stoke it, play with it, use it to her advantage. One of those ideas in particular, made her smirk ominously.

“Oh, Storm, do we have to wait till the end of the match to give her an arse to the face? Cos she’s kinda well-placed for a stinkface now….” Lyssa grinned and rubbed her hips. She playfully turned and presented her rear towards Wendy, still clad in her blue denim jeans, but nonetheless a tight round backside considering her relatively short stature. Lyssa took a step back and swayed her rear teasingly, just inches from her victim’s face.

“Just say the word, girl, and we can give her a taste of what’s to come…” she smirked, milking the moment for all it was worth, but holding back until Storm gave the go-ahead, leaving Wendy in limbo. This was uncharacteristically restrained of Lyssa, but after all, it was Storm’s revenge, so it was only right that the bigger girl got first dibs on this. And if it left Wendy squirming as she suffered in the surfboard, all the better.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy kicked and squirmed and fought in the hellish hold, but it was all too clear that she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. She’d figured this woman was strong, it had been the main reason why she’d wanted to blindside her in their first meeting. Laying out the twigs was fun, sure, but laying waste to someone with actual stamina was a rare treat, and she’d relished the chance with Storm, who could take so much punishment and stay lucid through it all. But that power was a pain to be on the receiving end of - this bitch could actually fight.

It made this surfboard stretch, which wouldn’t have been much worse than a resthold for most woman, an agonizing affair, as Wendy was split down the middle and the knee dug further into her back. Her chest stuck out and her breasts threatened to slip free of their confines, as her flexibility was pushed to the limit, something she strongly suspected would be a running theme with the night. As if that wasn’t bad enough - and it was - she had to put up with Storm’s taunts on top of it, as the woman laid out of the program for tonight’s events.

”Two-on-one, huh?” She tried to turn her head just enough to see Storm over her shoulder, wanting to get a look at the woman’s face. ”Only way-” She hissed as her torturesses’ went even deeper, tickling the cartilage. ”You fucks! I’d break you bitches one on one, fucking wreck both of you!”

It was a transparent play to try and goad them into evening the odds, and she knew it wasn’t going to work - if the position were flipped, she damn sure wouldn’t go for it. But with options running thin, she had to try, especially as they got ready to kick things off. Wendy continued her fruitless struggles as Lyssa came around, shaking her butt with an obvious setup.

”If you don’t get your tiny ass out of my face…” Her words devolved into a growl as she shook her head about, trying to get it as far away from Lyssa’s backside as possible. In truth, it wasn’t all that tiny of butt, proportionally large for the woman it was attached to and just thick enough to be delectable. But Wendy wanted no part of it on her face, which was what she suspected this was leading to.

”Just try it, see what happens! I will bury you under the goddamn ring, you little tattertot!”