'Thunder' Storm MacIntosh vs. Wendy Winston - The War Below

[BlackAkuma]

In hindsight, this was a bad idea for Wendy. Not so much raking Storm’s eyes, that was funny, but choosing to do so at the exact moment when she was being held upside down? No, not smart. There was an alternate universe where Storm fell, dropped her square on her head, and the result was a crippling injury or even worse.

Thankfully, this was not that universe. This was the universe where Storm still wound up botching the vertical suplex because of her eyes getting ranked, but she just wound up falling in a way that still sucked, but wasn’t catastrophically wrong. From the feel of it, it seemed like Storm took some impact from it, too, which would’ve made Wendy smile, if not for her searing eyeballs.

She hit the canvas hard and rolled away immediately, flopping to the floor outside and stumbling about. As much as her back was hurting, her main priority was still getting her sight back, and she could see a hazy solution to that problem through the blurry slits of her eyelids.

”Taking this.” She reached out into the audience, snagged a water bottle from one of the fans, and poured it all over her face, letting it wash through her eyeballs. It wasn’t taking away all the pain, but it was a great start, helping her get them clear. Only problem was that she hadn't kept track of Storm as she did all that, a serious issue given how tough the woman was proving to be.

[hamish1024]

Botching the vertical suplex meant that Storm had been driven harshly to the canvas, with Wendy’s weight added to the fall. The impact was severe, even before factoring in the shock of the eye-rake, and Storm was in no position to do anything as Wendy urgently disentangled herself from the aftermath of the disastrous slam, and scurried out of the ring.

The crowd were bemused at this odd break in the battle. Storm, alone on the mats now, pushed up to her knees, grimacing as she rubbed her neck, and tried urgently to blink the stinging pain from her watery eyes, bracing herself for a counterattack that never came. As her sight returned, albeit blurrily, the brunette shot glances around, wondering where Wendy was, until she finally saw the Southerner, stood at the crowd barrier.

Storm blinked again as she watched Wendy pour the bottled water all over her upturned face. Tactically, it was a very smart move, washing away the toxic black gunk that had been sprayed on her features, but it wasn’t just the ring smarts that got Storm’s attention. The sight of the white-haired amazon allowing the water to run down her face and body, droplets coursing down between those big, bikini-clad breasts…

No. Focus. Storm’s inner stoic fought back whatever feelings of lust she had for Wendy right now. The woman was a hateful bully, and needed to be conquered, whatever the cost. Reminded of the cruel beatings that Wendy had casually dished out on her, Storm’s anger rose again. As sad as it was to interrupt Wendy’s impromptu shower scene, Storm would need to seize on the distraction.

Snarling, the Scot pushed to her feet. Simple and direct, she broke into a sprint, charging in a straight line towards Wendy, and leaping through the ropes, aiming to smack into the Southerner with a brutal suicide dive. If it worked, Wendy would be shockingly squashed by the flying Scotswoman. If it didn’t… well, Storm had been too riled up to think that far ahead.

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, god, the water made it burn worse, why did the water make it burn worse?

Wendy let out a long, hissing groan as she poured it over her face and rubbed her eyes, clearing the gunk free from her vision and hating every second of it. It was doing its job; she couldn't complain about that much, but the pain wasn’t going away as much as she would’ve liked. If she had to guess, she’d be dealing with that for the next couple of days, minimum. Lovely, fuckin lovely.

Sighing, she tossed the bottle back at the angered fan, waving off his yelling over her theft of an overpriced bottle of water. ”Fucking sell it on Ebay or some shit, could probably get a good price.” Lord knew there were more than a few freaks who would pay for it, too. Some of her best customers requested stuff like that.

With her vision returned, Wendy instinctively turned about and looked around the ringside area, expecting her opponent to have already made her way out to come after her. When she found that wasn’t the case, she went to look back inside the ring, just in time to see a flying Scotswoman coming straight for her at maximum velocity. ”Fuck-”

She brought her hands up to block, which accomplished precious little with all the momentum Storm had behind her. The two heavenly bodies crashed and Wendy was knocked clean off her feet, hitting the barricade with enough force to move it a few inches. She flopped back to the floor and came down hard on her side, eyes shut tight as she dealt with the pain.

And the crowd cheered. Assholes.

[hamish1024]

Typically, Storm was a measured, methodical, technical wrestler. Thinking about it, this might even be the first Suicide Dive she had pulled in her career. Crucially, though, Storm hadn’t been thinking about it – she’d been running on uncharacteristically high levels of emotion, fuelled by the intensity of her grudge with Wendy. Hell, in some ways, the hyperaggressive aerial attack was a tribute to the Backstage Bully, showing just how deeply she’d gotten under Storm’s skin. Yet, it would be doubtful that Wendy would be flattered by the compliment, as the reckless move connected, and the white haired woman got absolutely flattened.

The impact was sensationally brutal. Storm’s heart was in her mouth as she dove down toward the oblivious Southerner, but her leap of faith struck true, with Storm’s shoulder driving straight into Wendy’s body. The THWACK of colliding heavyweights made a few watchers wince, although the gasps were soon drowned out by raucous cheers of approval. Storm herself grunted in pain, with Wendy breaking her fall in not exactly the most comfortable of ways, before the brunette dropped onto the concrete. Still, the bruising sacrifice had a spectacular payoff. Wendy got launched, violently, into the hard, unforgiving barrier, crunching painfully into the steel and making the metal itself groan as it ground along the arena floor.

Storm rose, groggily, but with a grin on her face as the cheers filled her ears. She knew she was supposed to lean heel, now, but damn, the approval of the crowd felt good. Staggering round to survey her hardcore handiwork, she grinned and licked her lips. Wendy had been all but wiped out, a combination of wicked tricks, punishing power moves, and that final Suicide Dive leaving the Southerner struggling and slumped alongside the barricade.

For the first time in this fight, Storm saw Wendy as prey. The dark glint in her brown eyes reflected her thoughts – she had an opportunity to press the advantage here, and she was really going to enjoy it.

“Gettin’ up close to the fans, huh?” she snarled as she staggered over to Wendy’s sprawling form. “Well, let’s give ‘em a real show!” Kicking her opponent onto her back, Storm grabbed a handful of white hair and hauled Wendy into a seated position, propping her limp form up against the steel barricade. She ruthlessly stomped her bare heel into Wendy’s chest, winding her as best she could, wanting to eliminate all resistance to her next move. The Scot had something diabolical planned for her rival.

Storm would grab the seated wrestler’s wrists, pulling them up and back, to thread them though the gaps in the metal railing. Excited cheers and laughs rang through the crowd, as they realised the kind of move that Storm was setting up.

“Thanks for rinsing down that face of yours,” Storm gloated as she made sure Wendy’s arms were entangled in the barrier. She turned her back on the seated woman, and wiggled her hips provocatively. “Now it’s perfectly prepped for my fucking arse!!”

Storm would step backwards, looking to plant her scantily-clad posterior straight onto Wendy’s features, for a rough revenge stinkfacing!

[BlackAkuma]

Even as she lay there, wallowing in pain and misery, even as she reeled from the damage she’d just taken, even as she’d seen what had happened firsthand, it was still hard for Wendy to process what had just happened. Storm had actually flew at her. A goddamned suicide dive. She didn’t even think the bitch was physically capable of doing something like that, much less crazy enough to even try, but here she was, suffering indisputable results.

Kind of impressive, really. If Wendy didn’t hate Storm’s guts so much, she might have even applauded the effort. The bitch really wanted to get her, didn’t she? She was almost proud of herself for pissing off someone this damn much.

Unfortunatley, she had little time to pat herself on the back, as Storm was already coming over to capitalize on the window she’d made. Wendy had a decent idea what her next move would be and didn’t want to be on the receiving end, but there wasn’t much she could do to resist at the current moment. She had begun to sit up when the Scotswoman came over and greeted her with a rough kick to the side, forcing her over on her back and reaching down to seize her by hair. ”Get off, get off-”

Storm’s foot shot into her chest, hammering her against the barricade and knocking the wind clean out of her. She worked quick from there, using the iron bars to secure her arms, leaving her wide open and vulnerable for what was coming next. ”Fuck you!” Wendy spat as the woman’s wide load neared her features. ”Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuck-”

Her tirade was suddenly called off due to a profound lack of oxygen, as Storm’s ass spread over, covering her from chin to forehead, creating a flawless seal. Wendy growled, a long, hoarse noise, and tried to twist her head away, but it was no use. Storm was too big, and her buttocks were too spread to allow that. She was trapped, and all she could do was kick about as her air supplies steadily dwindled.

[hamish1024]

“No, no… fuck you,” Storm crowed happily as she shoved her ass backwards, silencing the protesting Southerner and wedging Wendy’s nose firmly between her butt cheeks! No stranger to dishing out a stinkface, Storm ground her broad hips with relish, really pushing her ass up against her victim’s features to trap her in a ruthless smother. She quickly reached back and gripped the railing, pulling on the hard steel to intensify the pressure, pinning Wendy in place between the metal and her fleshy derriere. In doing so, Storm had positioned her forearms to cruelly block any attempt by her opponent to pull her trapped arms back through the railing, leaving Wendy’s hands stuck behind the barrier and flailing helplessly. The hapless white-haired wrestler really had no choice but to just sit there and take Storm’s big, barely-clad ass, straight to her face!!

As she settled into the booty smother, Storm grinned, ecstatic in her dominance. She could scarcely believe how quickly she had managed to turn the tables in this match, but her impulsive, high-stakes gambits had paid off handsomely. Now she had time to reflect on her reckless aggression, and savour just how well the exchange had gone for her, with the feel of Wendy’s flustered face up against her thong, a pleasant reminder that this match was very much alive again.

“No, but seriously, thanks for washing your face, I’d have hated to get any of that toxic gunk in my nethers,” Storm chuckled as the smother progressed. The unconventional positioning meant that Storm couldn’t bounce or jiggle as much as she might have done if she’d pulled the move in the corner ropes – but what the out-of-ring stinkface lacked in showiness, it made up for in sheer sadism, with Wendy locked in hard against the unyielding barricade and that pretty face completely swallowed by Storm’s sweaty, hard-pressing bum. Not that the crowd were complaining – the up-close action was delighting the front-row fans, and in the occasional glance over her shoulder, Storm could see excited onlookers gather, cameraphones predicably looming. Yet more footage that would haunt the Backstage Bully for some time!

“Oh, if anything, this is better than that smother harness of yours, don’t you think?” Storm leered, reminding her rival of previous indignities, leaning back as she kept Wendy in the gruelling hold, and offering her opponent no reprieve or chance to reply. The Scotswoman was not messing about here – she wanted to claim a smother over Wendy, and she wanted it as quickly as possible. The ref girl – who had previously taken a very light touch with this match – started to scamper over. Storm assumed there wouldn’t be any issue in classing this unconventional ass smother as a ‘facesit’ for scoring purposes, and smugly beckoned the official over to check how the hapless victim behind her was doing.

[BlackAkuma]

As bad as this might have looked, Wendy didn’t panic at first. After all, she was something of an expert when it came to sitting on faces, and there was a reason she rarely used a stinkface when she was legitimately trying to put someone out with her ass. Unless they were severely winded, getting a perfect seal like this was nigh impossible. Having to crouch and leaned back made it awkward, you could never apply your total weight, and the bouncing pads were too easy to slip around. It was a good taunt and fun to do, but not a real way to win.

At least, that would’ve been the case most of the time. But getting stinkfaced against a metal barricade? That was a new thing. As Wendy was quickly learning as she tried to escape, it could make all the difference.

The metal had no give. When she twisted this way and that, she was met with pathetically insufficient results, especially with an ass as broad and encompassing as Storm’s. Her struggles grew more frequent and frantic with each passing second as she fought to get free, to steal even a single breath, but it seemed like every movement just brought her deeper into the crevice, creating an airtight seal. Wendy tried pushing at ter opponent’s thighs, but the weight was implacable, her stance was perfect. It simply was not happening.

Wendy’s thrashing reached a crescendo as she let out an enraged, mournful growl into Storm’s ass, echoing through her body, and it was only downhill from there. Her struggles grew weaker, her squirming grew slower. Spasms turned into twitches. The roar of the crowd was becoming distant, as if someone was turn the volume down, notch by notch, and her body went limp as the darkness gave way…

[hamish1024]

Storm’s body was starting to ache a little – the prolonged stinkface up against the barrier demanded that she keep her backside pushed out, whilst firmly gripping the railings and stopping Wendy from releasing her flailing arms. Still, the slight discomfort was more than worth it, as far as the Scot was concerned, given the glorious payoff, and putting her rival through a gruelling, embarrassing ordeal. Storm could feel Wendy’s stifled struggles, and desperate attempts to break her face free of the smother. The brunette was simply not going to let that happen, and stayed strongly focused on wedging Wendy’s features ever deeper into her sweat-slicked butt crack.

The crowd noise intensified as seconds turned to minutes, and it became increasingly clear that Storm had successfully turned a cheeky humiliation move into a ruthlessly effective show of dominance, by adding a hardcore twist and trapping poor Wendy in the fencing. The white-haired wrestler’s angry flailing slowly became less and less fierce, as being trapped in the big stinkface took its inevitable toll on her lungs. Storm didn’t let up, though, and kept her pert butt pushed backwards to deny her opponent any reprieve. The Scotswoman clearly intended to finish the bitch off.

With Wendy outright limp, the looming ref girl eventually intervened, checking the Southerner’s slumped wrist before signalling for the fall. Only then did the grinning Storm happily skip forwards, peeling her posterior from Wendy’s slumbering face, letting the seated girl slump forwards weakly.

Without looking back, the beaming Storm gave her generous backside a crowd-pleasing slap of satisfaction, and clambered back up into the ring. She settled into the nearest turnbuckle and leaned casually over the side, looking down on her unconscious opponent with amused interest, waiting to see her reaction. This battle was tied at one fall each, but levelling the score so quickly and so ruthlessly had boosted the brunette’s confidence, and she could feel the energy in the arena as the match momentum tipped her way. The next fall now would be absolutely crucial.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy didn’t come back into reality all at once, as if her brain had to reboot system by system. The crowd’s roar was the first thing that registered, with them cheering and hollering and making all kinds of stupid noises. Some of them were chanting something? Thunder? Blunder? Wonder? Something stupid, she was sure. Didn’t matter. Her feelings came back next, especially the sensations on her face. Her nose and mouth felt as if something had been pressing against them, and she had this slimy sensation on her cheek, like sweat, but not her own. There was the smell of flesh, a taste on her tongue, but she couldn't place it.

Wendy opened her eyes, shut them tight as the light flooded in, then slowly opened them again, peering up at the lights. And there, smiling down on her was, was a big, dumb, Scotswoman with the most pleased smile on her face.

Just like that, all the pieces came back. Just like that, she remembered where and what she was doing. Just like that, she was supremely pissed off.

”You-” Wendy made a hurried bid to stand up, only to flop back down on her knees, her body still not accustomed to the shift. She growled, punched the floor, and pushed her way back up against, slower this time.

”Fucking cheap bitch!” She stumbled back to the ring, slid inside and pushed her way up again, sparing a quick glance to the clock as she went.

14:33

Less than fifteen minutes. Not a lot of time. Whichever one of them scored the next knockout, it would be nearly impossible for the other woman to even the odds and get another point on top before the match was over. Not a problem; she just had to make that point went to her. ”Think you’re tough, huh? ‘Cause you got one damn point?” She slapped her chest and beckoned her on. ”Try that shit when I can see, bitch!”

[hamish1024]

Storm was a picture of smugness as she peered down at her slumbering opponent, slowly coming round from the stinkface. This turned into an outright snort of laughter as Wendy failed to find her feet at the first attempt, flopping embarrassingly onto her knees as she tried to readjust to consciousness. Storm almost felt bad for laughing, before remembering what a complete and utter bitch the self-proclaimed Bully really was. As far as the Scot was concerned, Wendy deserved everything that had come her way. And more!

Despite her obvious grin, Storm tried not to let the smugness tip into condescension or arrogance. She reminded herself that Wendy had overwhelmed her in the first fall, and it was only brazen cheating that had levelled the scores and left Storm with a chance in this match. She expected Wendy to be another furious ball of redneck rage, and was a little surprised when the onslaught she’d braced for never came, the Southerner instead spitting venom from her corner, and beckoning Storm on.

“Fucking gladly,” Storm retorted, beginning her advance across the ring and shaping for a grapple. A fair fight would make a change of pace for these serially backstabbing enemies! That said, Storm’s keenness to go woman-to-woman was fuelled by the thought that Wendy would still be struggling under a post-smother fog. Under the circumstances, the brunette was happy to lock up, and test how badly Wendy had been dulled by that butt to the face. Storm broke into a run, raising her arms and looking to smack bodily into Wendy for a high-intensity tie-up, imagining she could knock her opponent backwards and into the corner if she struck fiercely enough.