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

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy struggled to suck in air, forcing her lungs to work despite all the pain that caused. She’d nearly gotten bisected there, or at least that was how it felt, and she was on the verge of puking her guts out. To make matters worse, dehydration was beginning to settle in. While she was in better shape than most thought, big girls like her and Storm were just not suited to long matches, and she was running close to empty. Stomach cramps chewed at her ab muscles like gnarly crabs, grinding her up underneath the skin.

Yet and still, she attempted to push her way up, using the hatred as an anesthetic. She could already feel the vibrations as Storm neared, knew the woman would let an opportunity like this pass her by. She rolled over to her back, gritted her teeth, began to pull up…

Too little, too late. Storm planted herself hard on her stomach, knocking out what little oxygen Wendy had managed to save up. At first, she thought her foe would go for a forward facesit, and that might very well be in the cards. But no - in the immediate, she had something more practical in mind.

”Fuck-”

Wendy was only able to get half of her curse out before Storm grabbed her hair, pulled her up, and began to rain down blows, battering her in the face with no compunction. One slammed against her cheek, one grazed the chin, another caught her clean on the eye. Desperate, she reached up and grabbed hold of Storm’s incoming wrist while her other hand grabbed the other, pulling her hair free, but that was a delaying tactic at best - Storm was still on top, and it was only a few seconds before she wrenched free and began to pummel again. Her legs weren’t in a good position for a kick, and their heads were too far for a headbutt. She was out of options. Good options, at least. So she had to settle for a bad one.

She jerked up, opened her mouth, and sank her teeth into Storm’s breast.

[hamish1024]

Successfully straddling her exhausted opponent, the sweat-soaked Storm allowed herself the briefest of smiles at her dominant position, before balling her fists and unleashing a flurry of punches. Storm considered herself a wrestler, not a brawler, but she had to admit, simply smacking Wendy in her smug fucking face was so, so satisfying. Storm did it again, and again, and again, with as much energy as she could muster from her tired arms. If anyone deserved to be on the receiving end of such straightforward savagery, it was the cold, callous bitch beneath her, Storm reasoned.

Hell, if she could soften Wendy up with this barrage, it’d be simple enough to slide forward into a winning facesit pin. Storm smiled again at that happy thought… before the floored girl lunged unexpectedly into action, and Storm’s left tit suddenly burned with the fierce pain of being bitten!

“AIEEE!!” Storm howled, the high-pitched shriek belying the shock and pain as Wendy sank her teeth into the sensitive flesh of her breast. Her skimpy outfit offered zero protection, and her rival’s mouth could clamp down hard on her soft, scantily-clad breast, agonisingly close to the nipple. The normally stoic Scot was suddenly not so silent!

“AGH! FUCK! You shitey, dog-faced, dirty fucking scumbag fuck!!” the quivering Storm spluttered, an extremely Scottish shower of expletives arising from her painful predicament. Calling her opponent ‘dirty’ was a bit much, considering Storm herself had utilised crotch punches and poison mist in this match without a second thought, but it showed how surprised the brunette was at Wendy’s latest underhand gambit.

Storm was wincing in pain now. She was a busty girl, and Wendy had gotten a hearty mouthful of her mammary. Storm was almost worried the skin would break, but had enough wits about her to lean into the bite, rather than away, to try and mitigate the damage. Still, her tit remained locked in a painful trap, and now the Scot was awkwardly hunched forwards over her foe. Storm rolled half to the side, carefully breaking the straddle, and keeping her breasts in Wendy’s face despite the searing pain in one of them. Using the space she’d created, Storm would switch back to punches, this time targeting Wendy’s upturned belly, hoping the blows would force Wendy to cough out that malicious mouthful of tit.

[BlackAkuma]

No, Wendy wasn’t exactly proud of resorting to tactics like this, but screw it. Her pride went out the window when Storm and Lyssa broke into her apartment and facesat her into oblivion in front of her own damn fanbase, and she was far past the point of caring about appearance. She was heat-seeking missile, with only one objective: Revenge. She was going to have her pound of flesh, figuratively or literally. Every trick in the book was on the table.

Besides, hearing that shriek from the Scotswoman’s lips was beyond satisfying. Wendy wished she could bottle that sound and save it for later. Soothed her soul.

Her fangs went in deep, and Storm’s tirade only encouraged her to dig in deeper, as the two of them rolled to the side, nearly knocking over the referee in the process. Her hold got the desired result…sort of. It stopped the punches to her face, but her foe just switched targets, through sharp shots to her stomach, sinking into the soft curves. Not pleasant, but far better than getting her skull rocked, and it gave her the best opening she could hope for.

Wendy opened her mouth and pulled back, letting Storm’s breast free and leaving her with a red mark that she hoped would be with her months. Storm wouldn’t be able to enjoy the release for long, though, as the Backstage Bully swung her arm around and tried to nail her with two quick elbows to the face, rapid fire.

Regardless of how they connected, her next move was to try and roll away, then scramble back to her feet with the help of the ropes. She was still reeling from the ground-and-pounding, needed a few seconds to get her shit back together.

[hamish1024]

Storm gave a gasp of relief as Wendy untethered her teeth from her tit. The immediate agony lessened, although the residual pain was very much there. Storm suspected her chest would be stinging for a long time to come.

Her relief was rudely cut short by two successive elbow smashes to the face, scrambling her senses, and sending her flat on her back, putting an emphatic stop to her brief period of dominance. Out the corner of her eye, she could see Wendy retreating to the ropes. Storm was in no mood to pursue. Instead, the chastened Scot slowly hauled herself up onto unsteady feet.

She looked down at her tender cleavage and grimaced. Her pale skin was now embroidered with an evil-looking set of red teeth marks, a cruel parody of a love bite nestled just above her nipple.

“Fucking animal bitch,” Storm snarled. Her already low opinion of Wendy had been soured further by the savage bite.

Storm was tired, aching, and groggy, but she couldn’t let such tactics go unanswered. She staggered angrily over to her slumped opponent.

“Like fighting dirty, huh?” she spat, before swinging her foot up between Wendy’s legs, in a heavy, uncomplicated crotch punt.

[BlackAkuma]

There it was. The look.

Wendy saw it on Thunder’s face, the same look she’d had on her face when she busted into her apartment with Lyssa’s bony ass. That gaze filled with contempt, looking down on her like she was so much better, like she had any right to take the moral high ground. Uppity, self-righteous, snobby little… ”Graaah!”

She was in the process of picking herself back up when Storm came in high and went low, shooting a fierce blow between her legs. The Backstage Bully let out an undignified squawk and fell to her knees, screeching from the pain, seething through her teeth.

And still, the bitch looked down on her. As if she was any better. ”Like. You. Don’t.”

Wendy wasn’t in a comfy position to strike back, but that didn’t stop her from trying. With a hand on the ropes for support, she pushed up and lashed out, throwring a wild punch at her opponent’s chest.

[hamish1024]

Storm gave a callous, humourless laugh as her foot connected with Wendy’s crotch. The Southerner’s wild screech of pain was immediately satisfying to the Scot. Shame she hadn’t been wearing boots to amplify the agony of the low blow, but at least Storm’s craving for instant payback had been satiated. Even better, the blow had crumpled Wendy to her knees.

Hatred and fatigue were souring the heavyweights’ technique; Storm was guilty of this as she advanced on her anguished opponent, only to have her wide-open stance exposed by a sharp retaliatory punch to the chest.

“GAHHGH!!” Storm spluttered, equal parts pained by the blow, and exasperated that Wendy kept targeting her battered, stinging chest. At this rate, her big cleavage would be a tapestry of purple bruises and red bitemarks, but that was a problem for tomorrow. She needed to fight through the pain, and put this feral bitch down.

Hurt, but staying on her feet, Storm advanced on the kneeling girl again, replying to the punch by grabbing a handful of Wendy’s white hair, and bringing a quick knee up to her temple, hoping to stun her with a sharp strike. If her opponent was sufficiently subdued, Storm would stoop to spin her around, and push her head downwards over the middle rope, looking for a fast choke to secure a tactical advantage.

“Oh, I like fighting dirty… when it’s you,” Storm sneered, wanting Wendy to know that she’d earned the evil treatment, and Storm wasn’t going to be shy about dishing more out.

[BlackAkuma]

11:01

Wendy quickly looked at the time clock, seeing what little time they had left. They hadn't reached the hopeless mark yet, but her current state was a poor omen for the way things would be going in the bottom third. She wanted to make some headway, and needed to take control, but it was achingly clear that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Her reserves were dwindling, and while she was still dealing out some damage to her foe, Storm was on the warpath. The woman just would not be stopped.

Her little rebellion earned her moment’s reprieve, but it wasn’t long before the Scotswoman was on her again, coming and lashing out with a rough knee. Wendy got her arm up and blocked it, but that only took out some of the sting. The blow still connected with her dome and sent her reeling, making her easy prey for Storm to manipulate.

Over the ropes. Wendy struggled, but there was little she could do when her opponent pulled her over them and started choking her, pushing down hard on her back. She gagged and gasped, fumbled about, but there was no way she could push her off.

That didn’t mean she was trapped, though. Far from it. She just wasn’t crazy about the only way she could see out, but this wasn’t the time for sheepishness. ”Fine by me.”

Wendy reached up over her head and grabbed Storm’s hair, getting a tight grip. At the same time, she pushed up, slid over the middle rope, and tried to fall out on the floor, keeping hold of Storm the whole way - she was either coming along for the rough ride or she was losing a clump of hair. Either or.

[hamish1024]

A kneeling, over-the-ropes choke was a staple of any good heel, and Storm felt a reassuring frisson of dominance as her victim flapped and flailed helplessly, spluttering for air. This throttling would soften Wendy up, leave her open for some power moves, maybe…

Or maybe, as it transpired, it was a bad idea to stoop to Wendy’s level. The Southerner, still fiercely defiant despite (or more likely, because of) Storm’s rough tactics, confounded expectations with a cruel and devious counter.

Storm was unprepared for the quick hair grab – her short brown locks were less of a target than for most other women wrestlers, but even so, Wendy got a good grip of her, by necessity right to the scalp. As Storm was yanked forward, she was even less prepared for the Bully’s next gambit – barreling forwards to filp through the ropes and over the apron.

“What the…” Storm gasped, wincingly, as she was tugged forwards and felt her centre of balance tipping dangerously toward the outside of the ring. “Shit!!” she squealed, as she failed to relinquish her hold on Wendy and got dragged along for the fall, flying over the middle rope.

Elegant, it was not. The two struggling, bikini-clad heavyweights crashed clumsily out of the ring together. Wendy, as the bottom girl, clanked painfully against the apron as they went, but this was hardly good news for Storm – as the uppermost wrestler, her arcing fall took her on a firmer and faster route to the concrete floor below.

“Ngahhh!!” she growled in disoriented pain, as her head and shoulders smacked into the dirty, unforgiving ground, and sent her sprawling. Rolling to her side, Storm moaned, cursing the unfortunate reversal, and sluggishly willing her tired body to move, as she had no idea how Wendy had fared in their mutually calamitous collapse.

[BlackAkuma]

This was going to suck, so much. Yeah, it would suck worse for Storm, that was the whole point, but that didn't erase the fact that it would still suck for Wendy, too. She braced herself, mentally prepared, worked out the landing in her head, but still…

Over they went, tumbling over the ropes, freefalling, completely in gravity’s whims. Wendy’s head was going straight for the edge of the ring, and she managed to twist out of the way at the last second, but that meant her shoulder was taking the bullet, instead. She hit hard, bounced off, and the canvas with an undignified splat, landing so close to her opponent’s impact that it was genuinely hard to tell who crashed first.

Not that it mattered, they were still utterly wrecked. For her part, Wendy felt like her shoulder was seriously considering a reprieve from the rest of her body, and she couldn't blame it. It felt like her entire arm was on fire - moveable, useable, but not without some pain. She’d need to check it later.

For now, though, she needed that arm, to make the most of the window she’d opened. She had a good idea on how to do that, too - she hadn't to come ringside just for the change in scenery.

Wendy reached under the ring apron and fumbled around, desperately searching through the shadows, until her hands found metal. With a relieved, ecstatic sigh, she pulled out a steel chair and used it like a crutch as she rose up to her feet, standing over her fallen foe. ”You thought I was dirty before, huh?” She straightened as best as possible, ignoring the fiery pain running down her spine. ”This is fuckin’ dirty, bitch.”

Without another word, not a moment of hesitation, Wendy raised the chair up high and swung it low, striking at her opponent’s midsection with the unforgiving metal.

[hamish1024]

Yet again, there was a brief pause in the action, as the battling heavyweights floundered, suffering in the aftermath of their literal fall from grace. A few fans winced as they watched the crashing collapse to the outside. The rest watched on, wondering which bikini-clad babe would be able to rouse herself first.

From the intensifying murmur of crowd noise, the sprawling, leaden-headed Storm assumed it was Wendy. Fuck. She didn’t realise how fucked she was, though, until she fought through the pain in her skull and opened her bleary eyes. Storm gulped as she saw Wendy standing over her, having had the better of the fall, and the good instincts to grab a chair. The brunette’s face fell, stomach churning in anticipation of the upcoming brutality. Storm could barely peel her shoulders off the concrete, and was all laid out in front of her arch enemy. She raised an arm, feebly trying to ward off Wendy’s vengeance.

“Oh, shit, no…. NNGHAGHHH!!” Storm groaned as Wendy absolutely walloped her gut with the steel chair. The heavy overhead swing smashed hard into her abdomen, a bruising blow that made her convulse in pain on the concrete floor. She whimpered and clutched at her aching stomach, splutteringly lost for words as Wendy made her violent point. Fortune had swung dizzyingly against Storm for the moment, and with her defences in tatters, things looked bleak for the Scot, who knew all too well what Wendy could do if given an opening to be brutal.