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

[BlackAkuma]

Rage was starting to give way to other sensations now as she continued to take her pound of flesh out of Storm’s carcass. While she wanted to utterly wreck the Scot for all she’d put her through, she also wanted to be creative about it - after all her and her little buddy had spent no small amount of time humiliating her in her own space, really going above and beyond with it, so she had to return the favor, right? She wasn’t just going to smother her once or twice and leave it at, no - she was going to do it all over this arena, make sure everybody got a good, long look at this bitch in every position she could think of.

”I’m going to fucking dismantle you, hear me?” She hissed into Storm’s face as she continued to haul her up. ”They’re not even going to recognize your face after I’ve-”

That was as far as Wendy got into her rant before she felt a sharp pain below her belt. She knew what it was without looking, but did so on pure reflex - yes, low blow, should’ve seen it coming. Hell, she should’ve been the first one to do it. Wendy let out a cry, a sharp note filled with surprise, anger, and no shortage of pain, as she let go of Storm’s hair and stumbled back. ”Bitch!” She spat back through clenched teeth. ”Cheap-shooting, sneaky, little-”

Storm, no surprise, didn’t much care about Wendy’s opinion on the matter, and she displayed that when she reached up, snagged her head under her arm, and proceeded to pull her back and drill her skull into the mat with a DDT, hammering the top of her head. The Backstage Bully bounced away from the impact, clutching the aching spot as she went, and only came to a rest on her back, a foot or two shy of the ropes. She stayed there for now, groaning while one of her leg idly kicked away at the mat, wanting to rise up, but being far too dazed to do so.

[hamish1024]

Spiking Wendy’s head into the canvas with a DDT felt good. Really good. Storm had endured a barrage of rough and heavy blows in the opening of this match, but had also endured a similar quantity of scandalised screeching from her enraged opponent, culminating in calling the Scot ‘cheap’ for reversing things with a crotch hit. Storm bristled at that, but as much as she would have loved to point out the hypocrisy, she loved smashing Wendy in the face even more. At least it shut her up. Storm had to stake a claim in this match, and let Wendy know that this wasn’t going to be one-way traffic, that Storm was no punching bag, that the abuse Wendy had gotten away with in her backstage ambush was a one-off fluke, resigned to history.

The brunette, then, was determined to capitalise on this opening. She rose quickly to her feet, swaying a little in pain – she couldn’t just brush off the heavy butt drop Wendy had dished out – but powering through, and staggering over to where Wendy lay sprawled. Storm looked down on her with cold, icy fury. Her scowling countenance had earned her the nickname ‘Thunder’, and the fans could see it now. Anger, contempt, and a determination to do something about it – Storm was clearly very pissed off.

“Sneaky? You’re calling ME sneaky?? Fuckin’ nerve...”

A quick stomp to disorient her foe, then Storm would stoop to grab Wendy’s hair, standing at her head and pulling her up from behind. She’d move this into a standing nelson lock as soon as possible, aiming to control Wendy’s arms, and leave the Southerner open to a brutal face-smashing against the adjacent turnbuckle.

[BlackAkuma]

In a way, getting hit with the DDT was a good thing. Wendy had a way of letting her anger get the better of her, and when she was furious, truly pissed off, it could be a little overwhelming, burning all of the fuel out of her tank at a rapid pace. As fun as it would’ve been just to smash Storm until she was a little Scottish stain on the canvas, that wasn’t in the cards. The two of them were pretty much equal in every way that mattered, so the difference would be mental.

It was an excellent idea in theory, but in practice, she was still hurting a little too much to get any traction on it. Storm wasn’t about to let her recover, either - she had just started to get her bearings when the bitch came over and dropped her size 10s right on her chest. ”Ah, fuck!” She croaked, then hissed as her hair as yanked, forcing her to stand up while she thrashed about. ”If you don’t let go of my fucking-”

Her threat was cut off as Storm wheeled her about, slid those meaty arms of hers in under her shoulders, and pulled Wendy up into a tight full nelson hold, forcing her chest to jut out and bobble around as she fought the hold. Not a good look, but worst of all was where it seemed like her foe was taking her: Straight to the corner, trying to ram her against the pads. ”Nope, no, no!”

Wendy brought up her foot as the neared the corner, planted it against the pads, and tried to push them both away towards the center of the ring, not really caring what came of it, so long as she could create some separation.

[hamish1024]

Storm was determined to show Wendy that she couldn’t win through brute force bullying, but in turn, might have been guilty of indulging her own bad habits. The Scot was so used to being the bigger wrestler in matches, it was an instinctive strategy for her to manhandle opponents into the corner and work them over whilst they were trapped.

This was not such a useful tactic on an equally big girl like Wendy, who would not be so easily caged. Storm got a sense of this when her squirming foe fought back against the nelson hold, and planted a firm boot on the turnbuckle to push both wrestlers back, stumbling toward the center of the ring.

With her arms committed to the full nelson, Storm’s balance wasn’t great, but she did her best to improvise, grunting as she tried to hoist Wendy up by her armpits, only to drop backwards in a sitting position, trying to slam Wendy ass-first to the canvas, in a sitout full nelson drop.

[BlackAkuma]

”Let me go, let me go, I swear to fucking god when I get out of this-”

Wendy muttered and cursed as she continued to struggle in the hold, twisting about this way and that, doing everything she could to make herself a pain in Storm’s big ass. With just about anyone lower on the scale, she could’ve fought her way out through sheer power. Even bigger women would’ve given up on it by now, not wanting to put up with the hassle of holding her down.

But Storm was the right mix of strong and stupidly stubborn to make it work. They were alike a lot in that way. Probably tons of other ways, too, but Wendy was a little too pissed off at the moment to be contemplative.

Regardless, Storm wasn’t going to keep her locked up like this forever, and the redhead clearly realized that, too, because she had an end goal in mind. All that thrashing around came to an end when Wendy was lifted up, and brought crashing down on her backside, her tailbone getting spiked hard into the canvas. She cried out at the impact, then slumped off to the side, hissing and writhing in her opponent’s grasp.

[hamish1024]

The sitout drop had been a slightly clumsy one, and Storm’s body shook too as both big wresters dropped to the mat, but it was clear that Wendy had taken the worst of it, her cry of pain reassuring Storm that the move had done its job. The Southerner had gotten slammed hard on her butt, and whilst there was a fair amount of padding on that backside (as Storm, to her chagrin, was all-too-familiar with), control of the match had stayed very much with Storm.

Her rocky start a distant memory now, the stocky Scotswoman felt her confidence rising, and decided it was time to get on top in this Facesit War. Wendy was still squirming in her grasp, seated in the full-nelson, so Storm moved up to her knees, transitioning the hold into a loose choke, before quickly slamming Wendy’s head straight down into the canvas by gripping her neck and hair.

“You’re not getting out of this,” Storm replied, flatly, as she left Wendy sprawled on her back. Wanting to capitalise, the short-haired wrestler would now swing a leg over her opponent’s floored head, ominously straddling her, facing her feet. Storm balled her fist and fired it downwards into Wendy’s upturned belly, hoping to cement her dominant position here.

[BlackAkuma]

27:55

As Wendy writhed about, she spied the clock on the big screen, watching as it ticked away. The match had only just begun, but even so, this wasn’t the way she wanted to kick things off, an ill-omen for the rest of the match. It was rare for her to bring out this level of aggression and not have it absolutely steamroll her opponent from the start, getting serious clapback instead of asserting dominance.

She writhed around as Storm started to transition out of the hold, seeing a brief opportunity to escape, only to have that door slam shut on her face when her opponent slammed her skull into the mat, bouncing it off the canvas and taking the fight out of her for a few seconds. It was all the time she needed to mount Wendy’s chest, giving her a great view of her ass - the same ass that had knocked her out not that long ago, taking up her entire field of view.

This did not improve her mood. ”If you don’t get the fuck off-”

Wendy’s threats were brought to an abrupt end when Storm plunged her fist deep into her stomach, taking her breath away and forcing her entire body to flop. She tensed up, then sunk under the Scotswoman, seething and wheezing.

[hamish1024]

The normally stoic Storm allowed herself a grin as her fist connected firmly with Wendy’s stomach. The way the strong figure of the white-haired wrester convulsed in pain, and then sprawled helplessly beneath her, was incredibly satisfying. Maybe bullies wouldn’t prosper here, after all. Storm had kept her head through a vicious initial assault, and it seemed to be paying off – one combatant looked like they would be the first to have their face plunged into ass, and it didn’t look like it would be Storm.

The crowd certainly sensed it – their raucous cheers intensified as the brunette took a dominant, straddling position, butt hovering ominously above Wendy’s head. Encouraging cries of ‘give it to her’ rang from the front row, as if Storm really needed any suggestions at this point.

The Scotswoman smiled again, and gave her backside a brisk slap, just to make sure she had everyone’s attention, Wendy included. She’d worn her skimpiest black thong for precisely this purpose, so even if she wasn’t the showiest wrestler, she was damn well sure going to take a second to enjoy this.

“Remind you of last week?” Storm enquired mischievously as she wiggled her rear.

Without waiting for an answer, the dominant wrestler would slam her derriere downwards, sudden and heavy, using her weight without mercy and looking to bury Wendy in a brutal reverse facesit.

[BlackAkuma]

Storm was smiling right now.

Wendy couldn't see it at the moment, what with her entire vision being dominated by ass-cheeks, but she knew the woman well enough to know that she was reveling in the moment. This was the second time - the second fucking time - that she’d gotten on top of her in preparation for a facesit, what this whole thing was about, and she’d be clamoring to get a second helping of the revenge she’d enjoyed at her apartment. Her thong seemed even skimpier than the last one, wedged in deep, perfect for smothering.

She winced at that slap, then growled through gritted teeth as Storm made her little quip. ’Fuck you-”

Wendy was only able to get out two syllables before Storm slammed her ass down hard, ramming her skull into the canvas as she settled in for a deep, enveloping facesit. Her screams of rage and anguish vibrated through her opponent’s body, but she wasn’t even sure if she could be heard over the sound of the braying crowd. They’d come for facesits, and they were getting what they’d paid for, not barely even two minutes in.

Good for them. Wendy wasn’t having it. She’d been in this position a week ago, but unlike a week ago, she wasn’t tied to a bed, outnumbered and haggard. Yeah, Storm had got the better of her, but she was a long way from done, and she was all about showing that. She endured the facesit for a few momentum, shaking her head and jerking about, but all the while she was tensing up with her lower body, waiting for the right moment…

When she sensed it, she went for it - curling up her lower body, she tried to bring her leg up fast and nail Storm with a kick. Preferably in the face, but she’d take anywhere from the chest up, really.

[hamish1024]

The butt drop connected firmly, and Storm felt her barely-clad butt cheeks slam straight into Wendy’s furious face, cutting off her cursing as abruptly as it squashed her skull against the canvas. The crowd cheered, and Storm couldn’t help but grin broadly as she started to settle herself atop Wendy’s face. The sensation of that Southern nose pressed up against her thong was starting to become familiar, she mused. Storm could almost feel sorry for the woman – key word being almost.

“Aw dearie, all that trash talk and you ended up down there again,” Storm cooed in mock sympathy, revelling in her dominance as she riled her hapless opponent. The brunette wiggled her hips to get nice and comfortable, when – THWACK – Wendy’s boot connected with her chin.

“Agh, fuck!!” Storm cried out, partly in pain, partly in frustration. Her fun was emphatically spoiled. The unexpected blow knocked her back, toppling her off her seat atop Wendy’s head. She fell onto her shoulders, sprawling, rubbing her jaw, cursing as she tried to get upright. If anything, Storm was more annoyed at herself, here – she’d botched the opening facesit, arrogantly trying to ass-smother Wendy before she was properly subdued. As it turned out, tall girls had a lot of reach, when they weren’t strapped to a bed.

Storm eyed her opponent coldly and harshly, vowing to give this woman a proper beating now.