Storm v The Morrigan – Bar Brawl Hardcore Match

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Punching Morrigan in the ribs was about the only outlet Storm had; she thought she’d fired off a couple of decent body blows, feeling a satisfying smack with each one, but it wasn’t enough to dissuade her attacker.

Far from it, in fact. Morrigan was nothing if not ambitious, Storm soon discovered, as the Irish Amazon not only held into Storm’s sagging body, but pulled her back off the pillar and hoisted her up into the air.

“Fuck,” Storm exclaimed as she felt the stomach-lurching sensation of being held over Morrigan’s shoulder. She dangled helplessly. As a bigger wrestler, Storm wasn’t all that used to being uprooted like this; Morrigan’s muscles obviously weren’t just for show. A knot of dread formed in her gut, she knew the fallout from this position would be brutally painful for her.

They span, and fell. Fear turned to body-crunching agony.

“Unghh!!” Storm howled, as her heavyweight opponent slammed her spine-first into the floor. Bruising pain flowed down her back and into her flailing limbs. She’d braced herself for this to suck, but it was somehow worse than she’d imagined; she hadn’t factored in how badly the unyielding, hardwood floor of the bar would hurt her as the recipient of this ruthless move.

The crash of her body slam shook the room. Poor Storm was devastated, and she could only flop weakly, her limbs heavy from the blow.

Morrigan was living up to her deadly name and deadlier looks; this woman was not pussy-footing around. Already, it looked like Storm had a mountain to climb here, but she was stunned and groaning from that brutal power move which left her writhing on the dirty floor, and all she could do was pray for a moment to recover.