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

[BlackAkuma]

”Wake up, bitch.” Wendy crooned as Storm returned to the land of the living, slowly rousing on the canvas. ”Wake up, wake up, wake up…”

She probably could’ve just rushed in and start battering the bitch, come to think of it. So far as she was aware, the only rule was that she had to attack while Storm was awake, but it didn’t say how awake she had to be. Wendy damn sure didn’t give a single shit about being sporting or any crap like that, so why hang back?

Honestly? She was in a good mood. Aside from getting her rocks off, she’d finally evened the score with the Scotswoman and put her back in her place, right where she belonged. That alone was enough to bring a smile to her face, and she felt as if she was back in control, but in her rightful place: Standing tall while her victim writhed below her.

So, for now, she hung back, the cat that got the cream, while Storm stumbled over to her corner for a bottle of water. ”Aw, bitch doesn’t like the taste.” She snickered and stretched back, giving her opponent a full view of her superior body when she turned around. Sure enough, it was enough to make Thunder thunder her way, and after a quick moment to discard her shoes, she was ready to lock horns again. Good.

Wendy threw a quick glance towards the clock - 23 minutes left, on the dot. More than enough time to get in two more facesits, maybe three if she was lucky. ”Damn straight.” She cracked her knuckles as she came out corner. ”And don’t worry, no more pussy for you, bitch. It’s all ass from here on out. You’re gonna see my goddamn cheeks in your sleep, fucking promise you.”

Words were just words, though, and Wendy immediately set out to make that a reality, throwing herself forward and locking up with Storm at full strength. She planted her feet and drove her hard towards the furthest corner, filling the ring with the sound of slapping flesh as she went.

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Storm snarled as Wendy taunted her about all the ass coming her way, but the Scot said nothing. She didn’t want a war of words; she just wanted a war, now, and she needed to focus. Storm saw Wendy shaping up for another aggressive opening – this time, looking for a grapple rather than a brawl. The brunette obliged, arms raised, readying herself for a test of strength.

Still, despite the preparation, the buxom Southerner hit hard, and Storm staggered back as she tried to weather the grapple. Predicably, Wendy was trying to bully her into the corner again. Storm, though, dug her heels in. She was done with being predictable.

The rules-light format of this facesit match meant that the officials had hardly been rigorous with their checks, and the move to barefoot wrestling had given Storm the perfect opportunity to sneak one of the more unorthodox weapons she had stashed in her boot. Wendy was blissfully unaware of the poison mist capsule waiting at the back of Storm’s mouth, but that was about to change.

Face to face with Wendy, holding her firm in the test of strength, Storm would bite the capsule open with her back tooth and then suddenly SPRAY the contents fiercely at her opponent’s face!! The poison mist was a special black mixture that Storm had experimented with, a particularly nasty signature move she had branded the Black Cloud. Swilling the water around her mouth would give the poison spray range and volume, so there wasn’t much chance of Wendy escaping a full face of the stinging gunk.

“Phhaawghh!!” Storm roared as she launched the underhand attack at her enemy, a desperate attempt to turn the tide of the match.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy couldn't help but chuckle as she and Storm locked horns, feeling a wave of nostalgia come over her. Now that the shoes were off and she was close to the buff, she was starting to feel her younger days coming on, reminded of the times when she used to throw down with her cousins on the trampoline. Good times, and it was when she started to get the taste for fighting. None of that fancy flipping shit, no intricate holds, just two big bitches locking horns and throwing down. Much as she hated to admit, she couldn't have asked for a better opponent than Storm with this kind of thing - the Scottish wild woman could give every bit as good as she got. Wendy wished she’d waited a bit before lowering the boom when they first met. The two of them could’ve had a little fun.

Oh, well. She was about to get off on her tonight, so it all worked out in the end.

”Yeah, there we go!” Wendy grunted as she and Storm vied for position, their bare feet hammering the canvas, their legs struggling to maintain a stance. She was sure she’d come out on top, though, and her grin widened with every foot they drew closer to the corner. ”Gimme some real fight, make me work for it!” She licked her lips. ”Gonna ride you all night-”

Then everything went black.

For a horrifying instant, Wendy thought she’d gone blind - one of her biggest fears. Her eyes were open, but there was nothing but pitch black, pure darkness..and then came the pain. The hot, searing pain, all along her eyeballs.

Rage, anguish, confusion - the shrill shriek that Wendy made was full of all those things, as she staggered back and clutched her face. It took her a moment to register what had just happened, but when it did, rage won out over the other three. ”Bitch!” She swung her arms around with wild swings, not caring who or what she hit. ”You total fucking bitch!”

[hamish1024]

Storm had seen Wendy’s grin in the test of strength, the white-haired wrestler coming alive at the battle of bodies. A part of her wanted to give her exactly that – the pure, physical, hard-hitting battle they were both more than capable of. But, a much bigger part of Storm wanted to avoid getting facesat again, and her inner ruthlessness won out.

The poison mist struck true, Wendy’s flawless features now spattered with stinging black gunk. It’s effects were instantaneous, with Wendy instantly recoiling in shock, pain, and anger. The crowd, and officials, were in uproar too, but not as much as the recipient of the mist, flailing blindly.

Storm gave a cruel half-grin as she surveyed the scene, and casually wiped her black-flacked lips with the back of her hand. Playing heel was fun. She didn’t feel much pity for the suffering, sightless wrestler – especially since the bitch had been threatening her with an ass-smothering all-nighter a few seconds prior. Nahh, this match was win-at-all-costs, and Wendy deserved pretty much every dirty trick in the book.

The gunk-faced wrestler would get her sight back in a few moments, Storm knew, even though the recipe had been tweaked for maximum irritation. Her sneakiness had earned her a huge opening, but she still had to use it. Storm, though, hardly needed much encouragement to launch a blunt, brutish assault on her nemesis.

“Aww, did I ruin your makeup?” the Scot laughed, part in mockery, part trying to give the blinded wrestler some indication of where she was standing. Storm would then swiftly circle round her wrong-footed opponent, grabbing her from the side, and gritting her teeth to pick the big Southerner up off her feet, aiming to carry her a few steps before shoving her down to the mat hard, in a rough Sidewalk Slam.

[BlackAkuma]

”Fuckfuckfuck-” Wendy stumbled and swung about with one hand while the other furiously flailed about, desperately trying to hit Storm, the referee, anything. ”Fucking dead, I swear to god, you’re fucking-”

God, Wendy felt like scratching her eyeballs out. She’d never been misted before, but she had once accidentally got some anesthetic spray in her eyes, and this felt about the same, a searing, blazing pain that bore through her retina. It wasn’t even so much the pain that was problem, but how it made her eyes want to shut automatically, bathing her in darkness. She would be able to get them open in a couple of minutes, she knew it, but until then, she was just a big sitting duck. Cheap bullshit, this was.

…she wished she’d done it herself. Fuck. She didn't know where to get this stuff, and it wasn’t like she could ask Storm…

Her growling came to an end when she heard Storm’s smarmy voice nearby, taunting her, teasing her. She realized, in the small part of her brain that wasn’t focused on righteous fury, that this was likely a trick and there was no way she’d catch Storm off guard like this, but rage overrode reason, and she came charging forwards, swinging and stumbling around in a drunken version of her Wendmill. The lariat missed because of course it did, and she felt Storm’s arms wrap around her in the next moment. ”No-”

Up she went and down she came, hitting the mat with a Sidewalk Slam, one that made enough noise to be worthy of Storm’s name. Wendy hit so hard that she bounced off and away from the impact, flopping over to her stomach while she hissed in pain. She didn’t stay that way for long, however, and started to crawl away towards…well, she had no idea where she was going. Presumably away from Storm, that would be nice.

[hamish1024]

Despite her mockery, Storm had to respect the way Wendy kept trying to fight on, even with a faceful of poison, swinging her fists madly in the general direction of the Scot. If she failed to press her advantage now, there was no doubt she would be made to regret it later.

Happily, then, Storm’s exploit of her opponent’s helplessness started strong, nimbly avoiding her foe and then nailing her with a slam. The move took effort – Wendy was a big girl, and not particularly easy to manhandle, even if she was blinded – but Storm was more than willing to expend her energy in punishing her enemy like this.

Skipping back up to her feet, she saw Wendy trying to do likewise, albeit reduced to a pained, oblivious crawl. Storm scoffed, both impressed and amused by her foe’s sheer bloody-mindedness.

“Where you going?” Storm teased, advancing on her target yet again. This time, she approached from behind, yanking Wendy upwards in a rough hairpull, whilst reaching between her legs to snatch one of her wrists. This would prime the platinum-haired wrester for a Pumphandle Slam, Storm keen to pulverise her opponent with two power moves in quick succession, showing off both her strength and her savagery.

[BlackAkuma]

Where was she? Where the hell was she?

Wendy had been swingign about like a woman possessed, trying to hit anything she could, desperate to land even one hit, but kept coming up short. She knew the ring was big, but damn it, it wasn’t that big, was it? It felt like she should’ve hit something by dumb luck by now. Worst of all was knowing that Storm had to be getting her second wind back by now, that she’d strike at any time, and there wouldn’t be a damn thing she could do to protect herself.

Now she was on the floor, hurting after getting the wind knocked out of her, and crawling away like a little bitch. It wasn’t the best position, but it was all she could think to do at the moment. She was too vulnerable, too crippled, her only recourse was to put as much space between them as possible and hope for the best results.

From the sound of the crowd, it seemed like she was making decent progress to the edge of the ring, but it all came to nought when her hair was snagged and she found herself getting yanked back up to her feet. She struggled as best as she could, but she might as well have been a little child fighting against her mother in the candy aisle - there was nothing she could do as the Scotswoman seized her wrists, pulled it between her legs, lifted her up and brought her crashing down hard on her back, drilling her into the canvas with a resonating impact. This time she stayed where she hit, arms and legs splayed out, breathing heavy, her sweaty chest rising and falling in steady succession.

[hamish1024]

Storm’s muscles simmered with the strain of slamming her heavyweight opponent down to the mat, but damn, it was worth it, seeing Wendy sprawled limp on the canvas, put down by the well-executed pumphandle. The Scot had sorely needed this confidence boost – losing the first fall to a prolonged, lascivious crotch grind had made the prospect of becoming Wendy’s plaything all too real – and there few things Storm loved better than showing off some dominating power moves. Ragdolling a bitch was fun; ragdolling a big bitch was quite the ego boost. And when the bitch in question was as deserving of punishment as Wendy was, the satisfaction was supreme. She’d gotten to pulverise Wendy before, of course, when she’d ambushed her in her apartment and turned her into a punching bag, but the cramped setting had meant that more elaborate slams and suplexes had been out of the question.

Not now, though. Storm was keen to make amends for that deficit, as well as avenge the power-move-laden Chimeraplex that Wendy had put her through on their first encounter. A determined glint shone in her eye as she surveyed her sprawled out foe.

“No. No time for a rest, dearie,” she scoffed, stooping to grab an arm, and a handful of hair, to ‘help’ Wendy upright yet again, looking to force the Southerner into a front facelock. From there, Storm would gather her strength to try and fire off another powerful throw, this time a heavy vertical suplex.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy opened her eyes, closed them, then opened them again, staring up at the ceiling through bleary eyes. She still couldn't see for shit, the world was nothing but a blur of lights and vague shapes, but it was still a far cry better than absolute blindness. The stinging wouldn’t stop anytime soon, and the tears would be a nuisance, but it was nothing she couldn't deal with.

She just needed time. Time she didn’t have.

Wendy hissed as Storm came in once again, gripping her by the air and arm and forcing her to stand again. Her head was shoved under the woman’s shoulder, the telltale sign for a vertical suplex, and she prepared herself to take a ride.

Sure enough, Storm displayed her brutal strength when she lifted Wendy upwards, hoisting her high, much to the audience’s amazement. It was going to suck regardless at this point, but the Backstage Bully was determined to make it suck for both of them - she waited until the apex of the move, then reached down and ran her fingers across her opponent’s face, giving her a hard rake across the eyes.

[hamish1024]

This was proving a real statement of intent from Storm, the crowd watching closely as the Scot had roared out of the blocks for this round, ruthlessly blinding her opponent with black mist and then following up aggressively with a parade of power moves. This would be the third now, the brunette heavyweight setting Wendy up in a front facelock, and stamping the mat before lifting her similarly-large foe up and over her head. This vertical suplex would be brutal on the Backstage Bully, and Storm was already plotting ways to capitalise on a concussed victim.

Then, the wildly unexpected occurred. With all her focus on hoisting Wendy over her head, Storm was suddenly struck by a blinding pain in her brown eyes and a scratch across her face.

“FUCK!” she yelped in pure shock. Storm instantly realised what had happened – Wendy digging into her own ample reservoir of dirty tricks had selected a perfectly apt payback on the Scot. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be mad at Wendy – Storm realised her own stupidity in fixing her foe in place with the grapple, removing the only advantage of fighting an unsighted opponent. Recriminations could follow later, though – right now, her control was gone.

Chaos ensued. The searing face-pain disrupted the flow of Storm’s suplex just as Wendy was over her head, and the burly Scot botched the landing. The white-haired wrestler still fell punishingly to the mat, but with a lot more verticality than Storm had intended, taking some of the impact herself. The scantily-clad amazons crashed down together in a ring-shaking smash.

That pain wasn’t the only thing they shared. Both were now struggling to see clearly. Storm rolled away from the point of impact, presumably giving herself some space, as she tended to her stinging, watering eyes. She would try to stagger upright, blinking heavily, casting round with one hand in an attempt to locate Wendy, as she rubbed her stinging face with the other, wondering what the crowd would make of this slightly bizarre turn of events.