First Day Blues (complete)

[hamish1024]

Having a sly grope of Wendy’s near-perfect body was sweet. But seeing the scandalised look of shock on that pretty face, accompanied by a rasping, choking gasp, was much, much sweeter. For once, Wendy didn’t – couldn’t – give Storm any sass, as the Scot wrapped her hands around her neck and simply, bluntly, throttled her. You’re not the only one who can spring a trap, bitch.

The past few moments of the kissing, the comeback, and the chokehold were a brief oasis of light for Storm in an otherwise dismal encounter. Unfortunately, it was just that – brief. After overcoming her initial panic, Wendy struck back, quickly and fiercely. Too fast for Storm to get her out of arm’s reach, as she discovered to her cost, as she felt a hand snake into her brown tresses, giving her hair another painful, controlling tug.

She continued to choke the life from Wendy, as the warring women knelt across from each other, Storm desperate to earn herself some breathing room by, well, stopping Wendy from breathing. But the futility of this tactic was confirmed by the first angry punch that flew straight into Storm’s unprotected face.

That fist really fucking hurt. Big girl from the dirty South knows how to throw a punch, it turns out. Smashing into Storm’s already-sore features, the bruising blow rattled her aching head yet further. It was soon followed by another, and another. Storm moaned as she started to see stars, and it was only her grip on Wendy’s throat that was keeping her from being knocked on her back by these blows. Unable to defend herself, she was a sitting duck, a literal punching bag now. Any more of this punishment, and she’d be annihilated.

With an explosive headache threatening to engulf her, Storm reluctantly but necessarily released her hands from around Wendy’s neck. She formed fists and, on instinct, brought her arms up to defend her face, blocking any further blows from bludgeoning her bruised features. Knocking Wendy’s fist away, Storm summoned what was left of her own diminished strength, and fired a counter punch at she Southerner’s jaw.

As soon as she felt her blow land, Storm fled. She was savvy enough to know that a bout of tit-for-tat punching would be the end of her, given she was starting at such a brutal disadvantage. So, the Scot turned tail, scrambling to put some distance between her and Wendy. Problem was, she was wracked with pain, and as dizzy as a drunk. Too tired to stand, she crawled as fast as she could toward the ring apron, reaching up for the ropes as an assist in getting herself back up onto unsteady feet. She had to pray that her punch had earned her enough of a window that Wendy wouldn’t be right back on her, before Storm could get into a defensive stance.

[BlackAkuma]

On some level, deep in the recesses of her rage, Wendy knew that Storm’s resistance shouldn’t have pissed her off as much as it did. It was a pretty normal reaction to having someone jump you out of the blue. Fight or flight mechanisms, whatever they call it. If the positions were switched, she would’ve done the same - hell, worse. She would’ve gone for the eyes, fuck choking. All was fair.

But, well, no one ever accused Wendy Winston of being too logical, and with her throat being crushed, all she could see was red.

Her blows came out like clubs - nothing fancy, nothing pretty, just brutally hard strikes to the face from point-blank range. She wasn’t that fast of a puncher, but she didn't need to be at this range. They were coming out heavy, and each one hit precisely where she wanted it to, crashing into the side of Storm’s face, hammer her skull. She was surprised the woman stayed conscious after the first couple, but that shock didn’t make her slow down or weaken with them - quite the oppositie. She was more than happy to batter away until her neck was released.

And release it Storm did, letting Wendy’s neck go to shield herself. The Backstage Bully coughed out a laugh, as she sucked in her air, still hammering away at the woman without a shred of mercy. She was just rearing back for a hellish hook when the woman unleashed one of her own, smacking her clean on the jaw and dropping her flat on her back.

”Fucking shit!” Wendy winced and thrashed on the floor as she looked about, her vision blurred and head swimming. She brought her hands up, expecting Storm to pounce on her at any second, but that didn’t happen, and she learned why when she craned her neck up - the woman was making a break for it, hobbling her way to the apron, trying to make a stand.

Nope. No way.

Wendy threw herself forward onto her hands and knees, went into a mad crawl, then pushed her way up, almost running on all fours as she came at Storm from behind. She threw herself onto the woman just as she was making it up to her feet and rammed into her, throwing her full body across her back to smack her against the ring apron. But that was only the start - she also wrapped her arms around Storm’s waist, pulling her back tight against her chest in a familiar position.

”Fly, bitch!” She took a step away, arched her back, and sent Storm up, over, and down with a German Suplex, driving her hard into the mat. And she would hold onto her after she went down, too. Wendy was taking her for a ride.

[hamish1024]

Beleaguered Storm had a hard time clambering to the apron, but the sound of Wendy’s cursing behind her, as the Southerner reeled from the surprise punch, was at least some consolation. Still, Storm was aching all over, and her heart was in her mouth as she gambled desperately on getting upright, grabbing at the ring and heaving her hurting frame onto two unsteady feet. In her panic, she had half considered going for the door, which was too distant, or the shelves of S&M gear, but she wasn’t sure of a reliable weapon there, and didn’t fancy trying to fend Wendy off with a box of butt plugs. Instead, she kept it simple, hoping she could get back into a fighting stance in time to turn the tide of this thing.

She failed, completely. Frenzied footsteps behind her, and then a sudden wave of pain, as Wendy barrelled into her back at full tilt, crushing Storm against the ring apron. In that terrible moment, the Scot knew her gamble was a total loss. She howled in pain and spilled clumsily forward onto the ropes. All that effort, and all Storm had really done was set herself up for another attack from behind, just like how this sorry spar had started. And if Wendy was a handful before, now she seemed fucking furious.

Storm tried to grab at the ropes, but Wendy pulled her away easily, strong arms wrapping around the brunette’s body. Storm wiggled and thrust her hips back into Wendy’s crotch, but the Scot was weakened and her efforts to escape were futile. She was dead in the water, and both women knew it. With dismay, Storm understood that Wendy was just going to keep going now, and that she was powerless to stop whatever further punishment was coming her way.

It started with a flourish – Storm again shocked at the ease at which her large frame was hauled upwards by the equally-strong Wendy. Her world had already been spinning in pain, but now it went upside-down as the white-haired wrestler nailed her with a hard German Suplex, straight into the unforgiving floor.

“”Unghhh!!” Storm moaned as her shoulders slammed into the mats, brutally shaking her agonised body. Her sensitised spine flared up in fierce pain at yet more rough treatment. Storm’s legs flopped up over her shoulders, and she was left with her ass in the air, but she couldn’t summon an ounce of strength to try and get out of this position. She was stuck, glassy-eyed and groaning, all she could hope for was that this ordeal would be over soon.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy wasn’t known for her finesse, but she liked to think she had some of the best suplexes in LAW, at least when it came to pure power. Storm had a great body, but she was by no means ‘light’, with the two of them dead close to each other on the scales. It was rare for her to lift anyone near her own mass, typically preferring the lighter targets, the ones you could fling around and really have some fun with. Truth told, she wasn’t even sure she could get Storm up. Might just drop her and have to suffice for her kicking her head in. A little disappointing.

But, lo and behold, she pulled it off, driving her foe into the canvas with a shattering crash that left the entire room shaking. The impact made Wendy’s teeth shatter, and she couldn't even imagine how bad the Scot was feeling. Probably like she’d been hit by a bolt of lightning.

And it wasn’t over.

”Hey,” Wendy grunted and kicked her legs to the side, Storm over to her chest with her hold still clamped tight. ”Got this finisher, been meaning to try it out. No time like the present, right?”

Wendy stood up, pulling Storm in and forcing her to stand. As soon as she was up, she released her hold on the waist, only for her to reach around and trap her arms at the side in the next moment, holding them behind her back and clasping her fingers to secure the hold. She looked back to ensure there was nothing in their landing zone to block her, then she arched her back and brought Storm flying again, bringing her down with a thunderous Dragon Suplex.

And it still wasn’t over.

She rolled them over, stood up again, and pulled Storm in close, reaching around Storm, crossing her arms, and grabbing her by her wrist. She gave the woman a lick on the ear to make it extra dirty, then lifted her and let gravity be her partner for the final move in her trilogy: the X-Plex.

ChimeraPlex. Done and done.

[hamish1024]

Storm felt like she had been hit by a train, her resistance smashed by Wendy’s wicked suplex. She couldn’t take any more of this. As she lay there, though, she realised that Wendy wasn’t letting go. Through her groggy, disoriented daze, an urgent sense of dread began to creep. Wendy spoke casually about trying a finisher on her, and the dread turned into a full blown ball of panic in her stomach.

“No… no….” Storm murmured weakly as Wendy used her grip to haul her exhausted body upright. She swayed dizzily, her muscles barely able to support their own weight, as the sadistic Southerner adjusted her hold, yanking Storm’s arms and trapping them behind her back.

“Fuck! No!” Storm pleaded, quivering in the hold, with a horrible suspicion of what was about to happen to her. She already knew she would be feeling this beating for days, if not weeks, but Wendy was gleefully ploughing through the Scot’s comfort zone, eager to pile on more punishment.

Storm gave a hoarse cry of fear as she was flipped backwards yet again, this time in a Dragon Suplex. With her arms pinned, her neck and shoulders took the full brunt of the brutal smash into the hard floor. The vibration of the impact shook through her frame, hitting Storm’s body with fresh waves of pain, and forcing a deep, wounded moan from her lips. Lights and spots danced uncomfortably across her vision, and her spine felt like lava. Her tongue lolled. She had *really* had enough.

But, Wendy hadn’t. Poor Storm began to whimper in alarm, as her attacker evilly kept hold of her, and began to reposition her upright again for even more. Arms crossed, she felt utterly helpless. The brunette hadn’t bargained on this being a multi-part finisher, and now she felt like she was dangling precariously over an abyss of pain.

“Please. Please,” she quivered weakly, to no avail, as Wendy seductively licked her ear and then pulled the trigger on the X-Plex, plunging Storm into that abyss with relish.

Up again, and then down. Harder than before. Much harder. Crashing down at a sharp angle, her aching neck and shoulders brutally smashed into the mat with all Wendy’s strength, and all Storm’s weight. Her senses exploded with white hot pain. The impact was absolutely calamitous, sending Storm head-over heels, dumping her awkwardly and painfully onto her back. Yet another absolutely fucking ferocious suplex in that sadistic sequence.

There she lay, motionless. Vaguely aware of the ceiling lights. Had she blacked out briefly? Storm didn’t know. She almost didn’t want to interrogate her own body right now, the pain she knew she would find was too terrifying. Every inch of her ached. She could barely open her eyes. Her lips hang agape, and an intermittent moan emerged from them.

Wendy’s finisher had done just that. She was finished.

[BlackAkuma]

”Fuck yes.”

Had Wendy gone a little overboard with that? Maybe. Maybe.

Three suplexes in a row on the floor was a rough ride. She’d been working on that finisher for a while, getting the timing down, selecting which three suplexes to use, making sure her body could handle the strain of doing it in the first place. It was way easier to just jump off the top rope and let her ass do the work on someone’s chest, her other finisher, but there was something more satisfying about pulling this off. Something more dominating. It definitely helped that Storm made the experience better with her begging and pleading for her to stop, the exact opposite of the badass she would’ve been if the situation had reversed. The only downside was that Wendy couldn't see her victim’s face, couldn't drink in the fear, but her imagination did a decent job of filling in the blanks.

It was a great way to win a match, but when it came to these backstage beatdowns? She was trying to have fun and couldn't do that if her opponent was unconscious.

But Storm could take it, couldn't she? After Wendy released the Scot, she looked over and saw her lying there - hurt, utterly destroyed, but still awake, more or less. Her toy wasn’t entirely broken, which meant playtime was still on.

With Storm utterly decimated, Wendy could take her time, catch a breath. She whistled and ran a hand through her hair, then let out a pleased moan as she sat up and looked over her shoulder. ”Mm. Good for you as it was for me?” A little corny, but she couldn't resist. It was her victory lap.

She crawled over to Storm’s side and inspected her prize, watching as she looked up at the ceiling with this vague, vacant expression. Wendy had been in a similar place before, so utterly wrecked that your body was ignoring commands. It made her docile, a good thing, but she needed Storm a little more aware of her environment - hurt, yeah, but functional enough to protest and suffer. Thankfully, she knew exactly how to get her there.

Wendy threw her legs over Storm’s lap and laid atop her, chest to chest, face to face, eye to eye. Without fear of retaliation, she reached up and cradled the Scotswoman’s face like they were longtime lovers, running her hands through brown hair with a warm smile. ”In a minute, you’re gonna get a real close look at this fine ass you’ve been watching.” She gave her hips a wiggle for emphasis, grinding into Storm in the process. She didn't want to say what the exact plan was, but she knew her victim could fill in some blanks. Helped build up the fear. ”First thing, though. Need to finish what I started…”

Wendy licked her lips, leaned in and retook Storm’s mouth, this time with far less chance of getting choked. Slow and supple at first, then harder, then harder still, until she was furiously making out with her little toy, claiming her mouth as her own with rough, hungry kisses, moaning and growling and laughing down her victim’s throat.

[hamish1024]

Having finally come to the end of Wendy’s hellish suplex train, Storm tried to take stock. The battered brunette lay where she fell, unable to move. Her aching body felt so heavy, it was like she could sink into the floor. If only, she thought, bitterly pessimistic that her suffering would stop here. Or that she’d be able to do anything about it.

She had taken three massive power moves, all outside the ring, no canvas to cushion any of the blows. That was all on top of the one-sided beating leading up to that finish, too. Poor Storm felt like she was at absolute rock-bottom. The professional wrestler in her could maybe have managed some grudging respect for the impressive display from Wendy, but it was all washed away by bitterness at how it had come about, and the intense pain that being brutalised had caused her. Fucking bitch, was all her brain could muster.

Moments passed, Storm’s large chest moving up and down painfully as she rasped in air, the big Scot otherwise motionless. Her eyes fluttered open, and the dancing lights across her vision started to slow. Hell, things even started coming into focus. She still felt like utter shit, but at least Wendy had given her a little reprieve, and not jumped back on the punishment parade right away.

”Mm. Good for you as it was for me?”

Ugh, a lewd taunt. Wendy hadn’t gone anywhere. The sultry Southerner’s provocative, satisfied moan served as an unwelcome reminder at how keenly her attacker was mixing sex and sadism. It also brought home just how badly spent Storm was, in all the wrong ways.

Storm had no retort. Her mouth was dry, acidic. She wrinkled her nose in disapproval as Wendy slowly sidled into her view, but she couldn’t do a fucking thing. Her leaden limbs may as well have been glued to the ground. Storm winced as Wendy straddled her waist, blinking as the white-haired woman’s features became less of a blur, struggling to even manage eye contact, but keeping it locked when she finally did so. The Scot did her best to keep her face as an impassive scowl, though the cocktail of pain, hatred, and fear she felt for that smug bitch atop her, made it difficult.

A real close look at this fine ass… Storm gulped at the words, as Wendy wiggled those wide hips into her body. She tried not to think it, but it all but confirmed that Wendy was a face sitting sort, and that Storm could look forward to that round, heavy ass squatting on her features, cruelly smothering her as… yup, Storm had totally failed in not thinking about that. Ugh. The flicker in Wendy’s cold eyes confirmed that she had registered Storm’s dismay. So much for staying impassive.

The brunette cringed as Wendy came in closer, beginning with a gentle caress. Storm was waiting for the other boot to drop, waiting for more pain from those cruel hands, so she was surprised again at the gentle kiss. The floored woman gave a soft moan through her nostrils as her mouth was invaded, laying there and just taking Wendy’s tongue, even as it slowly but surely became less gentle. Wendy was an evil twisted psychopath, Storm was under no illusion about that, but she was also extremely pretty, so accepting a kiss from her wasn’t that much of an ordeal. Sure, it was undignified for the Scot to be in such a submissive position, but she told herself it was tactical, that she was securing a much needed rest.

It turned out to be quite the rest – Wendy using her total dominance for a prolonged makeout session, aggressive, hungry, possessive. It really didn’t bode well for Storm’s future that Wendy wanted to own her with such intensity. The brunette made little soft groans of protest, but her mouth remained emphatically full of tongue. Well, at least her lips weren’t feeling dry any more. She tried to flex what little agency she had here – pawing weakly at Wendy’s thighs, pushing back with her own tongue, but all it did was highlight how powerless she was.

Give in to her, a voice at the back of her mind urged. Focus on the beautiful woman nuzzling into you. It’ll take your mind off the pain.

Lips locked, breasts rubbing together, Storm gave another moan, longer and deeper this time, betraying a hint of that internal conflict. She was trying her best to stop Wendy from getting what she wanted from this, but it was going to be a colossal struggle.

[BlackAkuma]

It was quick, only a flicker, and Wendy might have missed it if she hadn't been looking out for it. But there was no mistaking it, in the end. She was too familiar with it to let it slip away, knew the telltale signs by heart. As she gave Storm some hints about what her fate would be, she saw that worrying flicker across her victim’s face, the flickering eyes, and the quickening pace…

Fear. Hello, again.

This was a mental process as much as a physical one, maybe even more so. Wendy could’ve just wailed on this woman the whole time, could’ve just battered her face into a bloody mess, but aside from that being a little too gross, it would get boring. She loved fighting, but there was only so much she could do with a barely moving body, only so much she could chew on. But fucking with someone’s head? Oh, as long as Storm was awake, Wendy could do that just fine. Hell, she excelled at it. As tough as the Scotswoman was, as proud as she was, everyone had their breaking point, and dragging to it was half the fun regarding backstage beatdowns.

Now that Storm was thoroughly pacified, Wendy decided it was an excellent time to enjoy the spoils, as she settled in and had her fill of this amazing body. The little struggles made it divine - every twitch made her go harder, and every attempt to push her off made her go harder. She paired the muffled moans with laughs, chuckling down her victim’s throat, staring her straight in the eyes and drinking in every reaction. The message couldn't have been clearer - Storm was her little toy to play with, however she wanted, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

And she’d only just started.

After a few heated seconds, Wendy finally pulled away, breaking a liplock so solid that there was an audible pop at the separation. She snickered, gave her a cheeky wink, then sat up to straddle Storm’s chest and take a good look at the damage she’d wrought. She put on a proud smile, glad with the work. There were hunters in her family, and while she’d never been into that kind of thing, she had to imagine this was what they felt like whenever they took down a prized buck. She could have a lot more fun with her kill, though.

Speaking of which… ”All right, Braveheart.” Braveheart was Scottish, right? Couldn't remember off the top of her head. Whatever. ”Let’s get to the fun stuff, huh?”

Wendy reached out, grabbed hold of Storm’s hair with both hands, and made her way back up to her feet, dragging the big bitch along for the ride,whether she wanted to go or not. She got her sitting up, then dipped down, wrapped her arms around the Scotswoman’s waist, and hauled her the rest of the way up, lifting her into a fireman’s carry. She let out an undignified grunt in the process, showing off the strain. Neither of them were light loads, but she wasn’t about to complain. This was worth the effort.

She took a moment to gain her balance, then marched forward with her trophy kill slung along her shoulders, making the trek to the ring. Once they were close enough, she tossed Storm onto the apron and shoved her into the ring, getting her on the canvas. It wasn’t 100% necessary at this point, kind of a formality, but she liked to do her beatdowns between the ropes whenever possible. Gave her more options.

Wendy slid in soon after, popped to her feet nearby, and approached Storm with a slow strut, savoring every second. ”Nothing left to say, Scottie? Come on, didn’t lie about that accent of yours, want to get some noise out of you.”

[hamish1024]

That cruel parody of a lover’s embrace, with Wendy kissing, caressing, and greedily groping the floored Storm, seemed to go on an age. The floored girl was kept in a dizzying limbo, half wanting to enjoy the reprieve, half wanting to tell this woman to go fuck herself. Storm’s wants were pretty academic at this point though; with Wendy’s weight atop her she was going nowhere and dictating nothing.

She could feel Wendy getting worked up, moaning lustfully, nipples hardening as they rubbed against Storm’s own upturned chest. The white-haired woman never lost control, though – her moans were mixed with malicious laughter, and Storm saw that Wendy’s pitiless blue eyes were on her the whole time. It made the makeout session feel more like an interrogation. The knot of worry in Storm’s stomach tightened, but she was determined not to show it. Despite feeling flustered at Wendy’s laviscious dominance, the Scot just about kept a lid on her emotions.

Finally, Wendy eased off the deep kiss, staring down with typical sass, as Storm lay back, flushed and panting as she tried to collect herself. The Scot honestly couldn’t remember being kissed like that, even in the throws of passion, so the fact that it had been forced on her in a teasing show of dominance made it rankle all the more.

“I... hate you...” the quivering Storm said, simply, as she looked back up at the cruel beauty atop her. The pause didn’t last long, and her reddened face turned into a grimace, as Wendy grabbed her hair in apparent eagerness to get to the ‘fun stuff’. It was Storm herself who had suggested that their fight could lead to some post match fun, but that was back when she thought this would be a match of equals rather than a hellish torture session, so this just rubbed her past naivety in her face.

She howled as her short tresses were tugged, forcing her into a sitting position, then was pretty much a dazed passenger as Wendy hauled her up, and dumped her into the ring. She lay leaden on the canvas, wrinkling her nose as the white-haired woman slowly approached her. She tried to choose her words carefully, in case there was some dim chance she could stave off whatever unpleasant fate was headed her way.

“I… I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop it. Please. You’ll regret it. I’ll make you regret it.”

This was the closest Storm could come to a calm approach to reason, given her circumstances. She didn’t think she’d be calm – or lucid – for all that much longer.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy had done this so many times, she was used to all the little phrases her victim said, so accustomed to them that it was almost a little game to keep track of them. ‘Don’t you dare!’ was one of the most common ones, typically before she plopped her ass on their face. ‘Please, stop!’ came up all the time, typically more towards the beginning of the beatdown, when their situation was just setting in. Every once in a while she’d get someone just asking ‘why’ on endless repeat, and it was always kind of fun to not say anything and keep them guessing.

But ‘I hate you’? That was a little new. It was enough to make Wendy pause - only for a second, but a pause all the same. There was something there she didn’t like. Not a problem, though. She could rub that little stain out. Just needed some time, and they had plenty.

With Storm in the ring, Wendy took her time, building up anticipation as she approached. She was glad when the woman spoke up and threw some spite her way, making all the predictable threats. She didn’t doubt that she meant them, either, at least at this point - oh, the thing she would do if she got the chance. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever.

”Oh, you know exactly what I’m doing, sweetheart.” She gave her hips a meaty smack as she took another step, closing the distance with commanding strides. ”And I bet you’ll try to get back at me. Try. I ain’t as easy a mark as you, though. Come at me, you’ll just get more of the same.” Her path came to end as she stood over Storm’s body, looking down at her with a wide smile. She reached down, grabbed her by the head, and dragged her a little ways to the corner, giving her a quick punch in the face as they went to make sure she was fully pacified. She forced her to sit up against the pads, erect, in perfect position. ”There we go.”

Wendy stood up, took a moment to appreciate the scene, then turned around so that her ass was hovering right in front of Storm’s face. She could’ve just let it fall like that, taken her breath away, but she wanted to give her a little show first and build up the anticipation. She knew the perfect way to do it, too.

Wendy grabbed the hem of her workout shorts and slid them down her legs, letting them fall away to reveal her bare ass underneath. Well, not completely bare. She wasn’t the type to go around commando, but it might not have been easy to spot the blue thong she was wearing at first, with her cheeks covering so much of it up, wedged in nice and tight. She didn’t wear stuff like this all the time, saving for days like this, when she knew someone would be her little bitch.

She let the short fall to her feet and worked them off from there, having a little difficulty getting them off with her shoes in the way. She’d take them off in a moment, but she didn’t want to waste more time than she had to. Timing was everything.

Wendy reached back, gripped Storm’s hair to ensure she didn’t move, then looked back and licked her lips. ”Deep breaths. One, two-”

She ended the count early and rammed her face hard into Storm’s face, thrusting back with full force and weight, totally engulfing her with fearsome thrusts as she hammered her skull into the turnbuckle. It was a merciless stinkface, and it only grew wilder with each passing second, as Wendy laughed and got more into the mood.