First Round Matches:
Match 1-Monica Keena vs. Alyson Hannigan
Match 2-Michelle Williams vs. Charisma Carpenter
Match 3-Brittany Daniel vs. Sarah Michelle Gellar
Match 4-Katie Holmes vs. Eliza Dushku
**
Match 1: Monica Keena vs. Alyson Hannigan by drufan
Monica Keena was nothing if not punctual!
When she'd first been approached by Katie Holmes about this idea-a
tournament between the stars of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Dawson's
Creek-to say she had been surprised would have been an understatement.
She was hardly a star, and had not been on the show too terribly
long. But she couldn't help but be flattered by her inclusion.
But to do battle with cast members of an action heavy show like Buffy? She kept fit, she knew she was in good shape, but they were involved in stage combat on a regular basis. Monica had been in the business long enough to know that stage combat did not truly equate to real fighting, but it was something to think about...
So she had arrived early-indeed, she was the first member of either team to arrive. She wanted the chance to get in a little exercise, and take the edge off her nerves. Learning she'd drawn probably the weakest link on the Buffy team helped in that regard.
Charisma Carpenter may not have gotten as many action scenes as Sarah Michelle Gellar or Eliza Dushku, but she was an imposing physical specimen, especially for someone as diminutive as Keena. But Charisma was Michelle's worry, not hers. Sarah had been drawn by Brittany Daniel-ironic, as those two had a history dating back to their teen years and a joint stint on a short lived teen soap opera, Swan's Crossing. Meanwhile, Katie was stuck with Eliza-much to her chagrin. All of which left Alyson Hannigan...
Monica couldn't have considered herself anymore fortunate. Next to Sarah, Alyson was the closest physical match up to her, and she knew Alyson lacked Sarah's martial arts training. She was probably quick, but hardly overpowering. And unlike her three cast mates, Alyson didn't intimidate Monica. She wasn't big, she wasn't bad, and she just seemed so... nice. Monica tugged on the top rope, stretching out her short, lean body clad in a dark blue one piece. She knew better than to judge books by their dust jackets-after all she was about as un-Abby as they came-but she couldn't help but think that Alyson was a touch out of place here as she waited for her to approach the ring.
Her wait came to an end as Alyson stepped through the curtains and approached the ring, her colleagues following close behind on their way to the reserved ringside seats. Alyson's gaze never wavered from the ring, or from Keena, as she descended the aisle. Nor did the smile ever leave her face. Monica gulped nervously. That wasn't the sort of smile she had expected to see. That wasn't a "Hi, how are you? Let's have a good time and hope no one gets hurt" smile. That was a grade A, one hundred percent "I hope your will was completed before you entered the ring" smile. Monica, not even aware of it, backed just a bit further into her corner as Alyson slid under the bottom rope. Her pale white skin was contrasted by the sheer blackness of her lace panties and matching bustier. Her skin, in turn, accentuated her short, flame red hair. Alyson stayed on all fours at first-her shapely legs parted slightly; her delectable rear elevated just a bit, teasingly; her round green eyes locked on Keena's. There was something about those eyes. Something not quite sane. Monica swallowed nervously again. This girl was proving herself to be a damned good actress. Either Willow was a testament to her range, in her ability to suppress her apparent lunacy, or this was all a front for strategic purposes. One thing was certain: Monica wasn't UN-intimidated anymore.
The referee called both women to the center of the ring, and Monica grudgingly consented to the request. He proceeded to go over the rules and instructions: the winner naturally advanced to the second round, and the loser naturally went home. And while each team was permitted to be at ringside, no member of either team was allowed to set a foot inside the ring to interfere. To do so would mean the disqualification of the team, and an end to the tournament itself. This was meant to be strictly one on one. Monica would have no help. And she was starting to believe Alyson didn't need any.
The ref instructed both women to go to their corners, but Monica had to be told a second time. Her focus was still solely on her opponent as Alyson backed away, licking her lips slowly. Uncertainly, Monica turned back towards her corner, looking to her teammates. Michelle and Brittany offered hearty encouragement, but Katie... Katie seemed disgusted. She had to know that the redhead had already gotten inside Keena's head. She could see the thoughts written on Katie's face: "Our best chance to win, and it's already out the fucking window." But Katie couldn't know what this was like. She wasn't in THIS ring, across from THIS freak show. She wouldn't be so...
Monica shook her head. Katie was right. She couldn't let this get to her. The match was still to be fought, and she certainly wasn't going to roll over and just let Alyson pin her. Or worse...
She heard the bell sound, and saw Alyson coming out of her corner. Monica took a deep breath. Time for her to prove just how good an actress SHE could be.
"You think you're bad, Red?" she taunted, cursing herself as she noticed the slight tremble in her voice. Maybe Alyson didn't catch it...
The smile returned, sending a chill down Keena's spine, "No, I think you're fresh meat."
And with that, the two locked up in a test of strength. And much to her surprise, Monica found herself gaining the upper hand. She relaxed slightly, enjoying the feel of Alyson's arms giving to the pressure she was applying. Maybe this wouldn't be so tough after-OOOOOPH!
She'd allowed herself to relax too much, as Alyson's knee crashed into her soft belly. Monica doubled over as the wind was driven from her body. Alyson then cranked more pressure into the test of strength, forcing Keena to her knees. Hannigan chuckled, looking down at her opponent. "I love having a beautiful girl on her knees in front of me. Get used to it."
Monica was low on options. Her hands were secured, and her legs weren't offensive weapons as long as she was on her knees. But the end wouldn't come nearly this quickly, she swore to herself. With a scream of rage, she slammed her head forward into Alyson's surprisingly firm abs. Alyson relinquished her grip on Keena's hands, staggering backwards, more from shock than any physical pain. Her gaze again settled on Keena's face, as she allowed Monica the opportunity to get to her feet.
"So you DO have some fight in you?" Alyson said softly. "Good to see."
This time the two starlets circled each other, both looking for an opening. Without warning, Alyson sent a well executed spin kick toward Keena's head, Monica ducking just in the nick of time. Her eyes widened, surprised by how well that kick had been done.
"What, didn't know I kick-box?" Alyson cooed.
Monica was starting to think she should have done a little more homework. Alyson lunged forward, and the two beauties locked up in a traditional collar-elbow tie up. After a few moments, Monica had gained the upper hand, turning Hannigan and locking her in a side headlock. Smiling with a newfound confidence, she tightened the pressure. In spite of her early jitters, she had for the most part controlled the match so far.
She felt Alyson's arms wrapping around her waist, and took it as her cue to apply just a bit more oomph to her hold. She felt Alyson's hand sliding down her stomach, and lower, towards... hey!
"What... do you think you're doing?" Monica asked, jerking Alyson's head, yet offering an involuntary gasp as the captive starlet's fingers danced across the fabric covering her sex.
"Getting a feel for my victim," came Alyson's mischievous reply, her fingers becoming a bit more inquisitive.
Monica felt her knees weakening.
"She's good," Keena thought. "Is it an act on the show?"
She knew though that she couldn't let Alyson continue this much longer. "Hate to disillusion you, Red, but I'm not that kind of girl." And with that, she ran forward before taking flight, driving Alyson's face into the mat with a bulldog.
Alyson's hands went to her head as she was sprawled face down, her left foot absently kicking the mat. Monica took a moment to brush a stray hair out of her eyes before looking over her shoulder at her downed opponent. Her confidence growing even greater, she climbed to her feet, stalking her immobile prey.
She sent a series of stomps into Hannigan's back, each blow causing her limbs to spasm. Tiring of this approach at around the twelfth stomp, she reached down, and pulled Alyson up to her knees by her hair. The look of insanity was gone from her eyes, replaced by vacancy.
"You may look frightening," Keena taunted. "But your bite's worse than your bark, isn't it?"
Alyson didn't answer in words-she didn't look capable of it-but she did answer. Her arm swung up between Monica's legs, and her fingers latched onto Keena's pubic mound. Monica's eyes widened in sudden agony, her mouth opening but no sound emerging. As her eyes returned to life, Keena dropped to her knees, desperately trying to pry Alyson's fingers away from her womanhood. But her talons were too securely cinched in. Alyson rose as her spirit returned to her eyes.
"You may get to know my bite later," she muttered. "But how's this for starters?"
Keena still couldn't find a way to vocalize her agony, though with every other part of herself she pleaded to be let go. With one final twist, the redhead relinquished her grip. Keena fell forward from her knees as her hands massaged her sore sex, her sweat and tears dripping onto the mat as her face was pressed against the canvas.
Methodically, Alyson pranced around Monica's body, teasing the audience with a provocative strut. She came to a stop facing Keena's ass, which was lifted off the mat as she tried to soothe the fire down below. It was simply too inviting a target for Hannigan to pass up, and she sent a swift punt right between the wickets.
This time, Monica squealed in unimaginable anguish-music to Alyson's depraved ears. Pulling the battered girl to her feet, she slung her towards the far ropes. Keena flew between the second and top cables, tumbling to the concrete below, coming to a rest at the feet of Eliza Dushku. At first, her body was still, the only signs of life being the occasional soft moan. Eventually, her hand gripped at Eliza's ankle-not even aware that was what she was grasping-as she tried unsuccessfully to pull herself up.
The raven haired beauty glanced from the broken girl at her feet, to the cold beer in her hand. She'd actually been somewhat impressed by Hannigan's fighting instinct, and felt she deserved better than a count-out victory. But Keena didn't seem together enough to get back into the ring on her own. However, Eliza thought she might just have a way to fix that.
Slowly, she tipped her plastic cup over Keena's body, grinning as the girl jumped when the alcohol made contact with her hair, face, and back. The assembled crowd roared in laughter, and so did Alyson back in the ring. Keena's teammates on the other side of the ring, on the hand, weren't amused. Nor did they plan to take the insult sitting down.
As Monica sputtered in shock, Eliza was blind-sided by Michelle Williams, and those two went tumbling to the floor. Sarah and Charisma started to go to Eliza's aid, but were intercepted by Brittany and Katie respectively. Inside the ring, Alyson turned to the official. "Can they DO that?" she asked, the childlike quality of her voice seemingly so different from the vixen who had wreaked such mayhem.
"Um..." the referee stammered, seemingly at a loss himself. "The only rule was no interference INSIDE the ring. I guess, anything outside of it is fair game."
"Just what I wanted to hear," Alyson said, smiling, as she slipped through the ropes and looked down at the melee. Brittany and Sarah were still trading blows, while Katie had managed to get the better of Charisma. She saw Eliza sprawled on the floor, and then noticed Michelle kneeling by Monica, trying to help her regain her wits. Unfortunately for Michelle, her back was to the apron, and she was unaware of Alyson's presence behind her.
That was, until she felt the double ax-handle crash into her spine, and she fell to the cold floor.
"Wait your turn, Goldilocks," Alyson goaded, grabbing Monica by an arm and slinging her back into the apron.
Monica groaned at the sharp impact to her spine, but had no time to recover. Swiftly, Alyson was rolling her back into the ring, and following her back inside.
Michelle was on her heels, and started to climb onto the apron, but the ref cut her off. She glared at the ref as he instructed her to get down, but she wasn't going to risk the tournament in the first match. Reluctantly, she hopped back down to the concrete. As much as she liked Monica, the girl was on her own.
On her own and in a world of hurt. Monica had not even attempted to get back to her feet since her less than graceful return to the ring. Alyson immediately sought to remedy that situation, grasping hold of her hair and lifting her to her feet. Spinning her around, Hannigan slipped her arms under Keena's, joining her hands behind Monica's neck. The full nelson applied, Alyson leaned her head close to Monica's, whispering into her ear.
"You know, you put up a good fight for... a couple of seconds," she mocked as Monica weakly strained her arms against their predicament. "And... you ARE kinda cute..."
Alyson's tongue lightly traced the outline of Monica's earlobe, causing a shiver of pleasure to run through her body.
"Give up now..." Alyson gently nibbled Keena's earlobe... "and things might go a bit easier for you."
Monica may have been beaten, but she was about to give her the satisfaction.
"Fuck off, dyke!" Monica spat.
Alyson made a soft tut-tutting noise against Monica's ear.
"You REALLY shouldn't have said that," she whispered. "That wasn't nice at all."
Showing a bit of strength, Alyson lifted Keena off the mat while still in the full nelson, before jumping off the mat herself. They both came crashing back to the canvass, Monica's shapely ass taking the brunt of the impact, Alyson's legs, straddling either side of her plaything. Wasting little time, she wrapped her gams around Keena's midsection and squeezed for all she was worth, and the same time pulling back on the full nelson. Monica's neck and shoulders were in agony, and now she was having trouble drawing breath on top of that. She put up a valiant-albeit futile-effort to extricate herself, her exertion only serving to hasten the effects of Hannigan's trap. As she started to feel lightheaded, she felt Alyson's tongue glide across her neck.
"Miller Lite..." Alyson muttered absently. "Surprising choice for Eliza."
Monica knew she had lost, but she still wasn't going to feed this monster's ego by letting Alyson hear her say "I quit", and Hannigan seemed to have no interest in a pinfall. The bitch was going to have to knock her out, if she wanted this match. And mercifully, it felt like that moment was soon approaching...
...when Alyson's legs released their grip on her torso, and her arms retreated from Keena's. Monica rolled over onto her back as Alyson climbed to her feet, starring at her opponent and the rafters with wide, confused eyes. "I gave you the chance to go out easy," Alyson said. "But you called me a bad name. I think you need to learn some manners, and I plan to be the one to teach them to you."
Alyson knelt by her foe's body, and began to pull her one piece down. Monica swatted her arms at Alyson, but a double ax-handle to the stomach quelled her resistance. Alyson pulled the fabric away from her breast, and down past her hips, not stopping until they had crossed the plane of her ankles. Keena now laid in the ring, naked, too weak to cover herself, the male crowd delighting in her glory, sweat dripping off her modest bosom and toned legs.
Finding a new use for the bathing suit, Alyson expertly tied one end around Monica's wrists. Pulling her towards the nearest corner, she fastened the other end to the bottom turnbuckle. "Just to make sure you don't try to skip today's lesson," Alyson purred, taking a seat on the mat just to the side of Keena's belly.
Her hands skillfully caressed Keena's skin. Monica had to give her this much-she had the hands of a pianist, and Monica's body was apparently a Steinway. Alyson gently stroked her sides, fondled each breast, and teasingly tugged on each nipple. Monica's body was trembling at Aly's expert ministrations.
"I'm quite good with my hands," Alyson gently whispered as her fingertips trailed between Keena's breasts and down her belly. "In way you like, apparently..." she continued as her hand slid between Monica's legs, finding the area more than a little moist.
"Please..." Monica whimpered. "Don't..."
"Don't what?" Alyson asked innocently. "This?"
Two fingers slid inside Monica's sex, gently probing and searching, causing the beaten girl to moan in both pleasure and humiliation. Suddenly, two more fingers drove into her, the gentleness of the first two replaced by violent jabs. Monica screamed, her sex on fire, as the rest of Alyson's hand threatened to force an entry.
"Or this?" Alyson asked, again her voice dripping with an unsettling and entirely out of place innocence.
"YOU WIN!" Monica wailed, tears streaming down her face as she tried as best she could to pull away from her tormentor. "I GIVE! JUST MAKE IT STOP..."
Alyson's fingers made a quick exit, and a small gasp of relief escaped Monica's lips.
Though still in great pain, things were finally over...but Alyson wasn't leaving her side. Monica gazed upward, to find her examining her hand, the arena lights glistening just a touch on the juices that covered it. Her expression was one of fascination, almost even enchantment.
Then, Alyson chuckled. It was the most unnerving sound Monica had ever heard.
And just as suddenly, she was silent. The spell apparently broken, she gazed down at the defeated Keena, her expression hardening.
"You made me get dirty," Alyson said, drawing out each word in a husky tone. She brought her hand, the same hand, to Monica's mouth, wiping it across her lips. Monica recoiled in disgust as much as her bonds allowed her.
"I should send you to bed without supper," Alyson continued.
Keena wasn't entirely sure of her meaning. As Alyson's lips slowly curled upward at the corners, she slowly turned around, draping one leg across Monica's face. Now straddling the bound starlet, she lowered her ass toward Keena's face with excruciatingly slowness. Again, Monica found herself begging and pleading for mercy.
And they proved just as ineffective as they'd been through the entire match.
Alyson settled her posterior across Monica's panic-stricken face, delighting in the feel of her struggles. Each muffled whimper or scream brought a rush of warm air that tickled at the sex beneath the lace of her panties. Each movement created more friction against her most sensitive of areas. Alyson almost squealed, grinding herself harder and harder, faster and faster, until finally there was only one course left for her body to take.
Her body shuddering, her skin reddening slightly, she exploded in a massive orgasm, juices seeping through her panties and onto the face of a now unconscious Keena. She rolled to the side, taking several moments to steady her breathing. Finally, she turned her head toward the corner.
"Good work, sweetie," Alyson whispered. "Maybe we can do that again sometime."
****
Match 2-Michelle Williams vs. Charisma Carpenter by Hawkeye
Michelle should have been worried about the task at hand, Charisma Carpenter bouncing a few feet away from her in a black bikini, her body tighter and taller than the petite, buxom blonde, the fine mesh of her top showing off her more modest assets to wonderful effect. Instead, all Michelle could think of was the humiliation. First, Katie was picked for the showcase match-up, yet another slap in the face in their ongoing battle, but to be placed second, behind only ex-bit player Monica Keena, that had to be Holmes' handiwork, and then be down 1-0. Michelle shook her head, no reason to run down Monica. She was totally out of her element and had shown all the green a rookie in battle for the first time normally would, but to be dominated by Alyson. Still, that wasn't any Hannigan she'd ever seen. What did it matter now? They were down and the pressure was squarely on her shoulders and if Carpenter held the same surprises as Alyson...
The blonde stretched as she stewed, staring a hole through Katie, firmly planted in the front row next to Brittany, Monica still in no condition - physically or mentally - to show herself. The bitch loved seeing her in the hot seat and currently the broiler was definitely on high.
Michelle's denim shorts clung to her cheeks, riding uncomfortably taut between her legs, as if she had been shoehorned into the cutoffs. She turned to Katie and proceeded with her routine, performing toe touches, her ass squarely pointed in Katie's direction, tight red-plaid top giving those on the opposite side of the ring a generous eyeful with its low cut, her midriff left bare. Pulling out of her stretch, Michelle reached between her legs pinching together a strip of the denim deep between her legs and drew it out with her thumb and index finger. These were booty huggers that could be better described as booty stranglers.
Charisma was just as preoccupied with her co-stars, but for far different reasons. Instead of showing them up, she was desperate to show off her abilities. The beautiful brunette had always thought herself to be a third wheel to Sarah and Eliza - a tag along - but now Aly had won and though she was happy for the petite redhead, this only ratcheted up the pressure even more. She glanced at Michelle bouncing against the ropes, testing their elasticity. Not an incredible physical specimen, she had a reasonable size advantage, but she could say the same with Sarah and Eliza and had always taken her lumps from them in sparring, but Michelle wasn't Sarah Michelle.
That said, the total indifference the blonde was showing Charisma made the brunette's nervousness rise to a peak, goosebumps covering most of her tanned skin.
Charisma moved to her corner, glancing over earnestly at her team, Sarah giving her a wink and Aly dragging her thumb across her throat from ear to ear. Eliza forced a grin, but was far more interested in grabbing the beer man at the end of the second row. The two had never been especially close, but at least the raven-haired girl had shown, that was encouraging.
Michelle stared apathetically at her from across the ring and Charisma had the distinct, uneasy feeling that her opponent knew something she didn't. She should at least be concerned. OK, maybe not intimidated, but something.
The bell rang and Charisma floated carefully out of her corner, but Michelle - determined to show herself a primetime performer - closed quickly, leveling a stiff shot to Charisma's chest, sending her reeling into the ropes, a grimace on her face. Charisma retreated a few steps, but the young blonde was already upon her.
THWAP
Another balled right hand landed hard against her cleavage, this time sending her into the corner with a painful yelp.
Again Michelle closed, but this time Charisma reacted more to Michelle than the pain and met her with a side kick to Michelle's open midriff that doubled her over, the blonde's eyes bugging in surprise and pain. The leggy brunette followed with a lightning scissors kick to the back of Michelle's head that sent her to the mat face first, Charisma quickly hiding a look of shock with one of pleasure. Some of the moves she had seen on the show and worked on with Sarah had obviously taken hold better than she thought.
Charisma picked Michelle up by the hair and sent her flying into the ropes. Catching her on the return, Charisma swung her right arm between Michelle's legs and using her momentum lifted the blonde up and planted her with an astonishing powerslam, Michelle bouncing a full six inches off the canvas, her body coming to rest spread-eagled, eyes wide.
Charisma leapt, pumping her fist in the air in celebration, as Michelle struggled to regain her breath. Sarah yelled instructions and hastily the brunette beauty was back to work, slipping her legs around Michelle's waist, locking her feet at the ankles, the pale, sweat-slick waist of Michelle enveloped by Charisma's thighs.
The long-legged beauty began her squeeze play, Michelle's back arching in pain as Charisma's legs tensed and held, the blonde's breathing labored, her chirpy moans, music to Charisma's ears. Michelle pried at her legs, but the effort was proving completely futile. Only Charisma's labors to snap Michelle up into a better grip offered her even the slightest relief and when finally accomplished, Charisma had pulled Michelle deep into her crushing thighs, the legs now flattening her ample bosom to her breastbone, the pain and pressure increased several fold.
Michelle frantically squirmed to free herself, but was only successful in partially wriggling out of her tartan top, her right breast popping free, much to the enjoyment of the crowd, Katie especially relishing in her teammate's embarrassment.
Unable to work herself loose, she was able to slide Charisma's legs up her body, eventually trapping her head between the brunette's sweaty thighs, her temples pounding from the pressure. Michelle, only now, realized the full danger in this mode of escape, Charisma's smooth, moist legs closing around her, cutting off not only air, but sight and sound, only the tactile feel of the skin and muscle pressing in around her. But with unrelenting effort, she finally slip free of Charisma's legs, the escape akin to a breech birth, Michelle's chances - at least momentarily - reborn.
Michelle choked and sputtered as she backed away, any thoughts of showing Katie up, long since replaced with an instinct merely to survive, if that were now possible. The blonde skidded back to a corner, pushing her breast back in place, the material covering the cleft of her bosom soaked in perspiration, as well as a pair of v-shaped swatches of moistness along the waist of both the front and back of her cutoffs. Working her way free of Charisma had expended a staggering amount of energy and Michelle desperately looked to slow down the action, sliding out underneath the bottom rope for a little recovery time. Unfortunately for the Dawson Dreamboat, she had chosen the wrong side of the ring and Sarah launched from her seat to grab Michelle by a handful of her golden locks and a belt loop of her cutoffs, unceremoniously hurling her back in the ring and simultaneously giving the blonde an atomic wedgie, the denim on the inside of her thighs forced up into her crotch, Michelle squealing and bouncing on her tiptoes after making it to her feet, desperately picking at the material as Charisma landed a clothesline that sent her heels over head to the mat. Michelle's hands momentarily fell to her sides from the stunning force of the impact, but impulsively found their way back to her crotch, even as her mind tried to clear itself from the blow.
Charisma closed on Michelle snatching a handful of hair and "helping" Michelle to her knees whereupon the blonde became deadweight in her arms.
"Close to the end, are we?" Charisma intoned, letting go of her grip, expecting Michelle to fall lifelessly to the mat.
However, Charisma was about to learn Michelle's greatest feature as a wrestler, her willingness to absorb punishment and keep on going until an opportunity presented itself. Not blessed with outstanding size, or speed, or even athletic ability, she would simply hang on long enough for the opening to materialize and so it had with Charisma, for instead of falling away to the canvas, she swung her fist up into Charisma's pussy, the leggy brunette freezing as if in caught in a snapshot of anguish, her face contorting, a gentle bleat escaping her lips, as she fell to a kneeling position alongside Michelle.
Taking but a moment to inhale an extra breath or two, the petite blonde followed with an elbow to the bridge of Carpenter's face that sent the her tumbling back, prone on the mat, a trickle of blood rolling from the corner of her nose.
Michelle struggled to her feet, remaining bow-legged to relieve the irritation from her tender cunt, wishing desperately that she had worn some nice LOOSE boxing trunks. But the past was the past and the present entailed an open invitation for destruction. It would simply be impolite not to accept.
Michelle swept a mat of soaked hair out of her eyes with a snap of her head - spraying the front row in the process - and focused on the writhing body in front of her. She had been overconfident and had paid the price, now... Michelle leapt into the air...
WHAAMM!
Both white Nikes settling atop Charisma's breasts, Michelle landing with arms outstretched like a gymnast sticking a vault. Charisma screamed in pain as Michelle twisted the treads of her soles into the brunette's tender mounds, her mammaries quickly reddening with the abrading turns of rubber on ultra-sensitive skin. Michelle then threw her feet in front of her and stuck a one-point landing, Michelle's derriere pushing hard and deep into Charisma's belly, the brunette's diaphragm collapsing from the weight, oxygen expelled from her lungs.
Michelle rolled off to the side of a gasping Charisma, the first hint of a smile creasing her full lips.
"Not bad for a second-string," Michelle goaded. "But not nearly good enough."
She paint-brushed Charisma then grabbed her by the hair, lifting her head up before smashing it back to the canvas, once, twice, thrice. Charisma eyes spun as she meekly pushed at Michelle's arms unable to detach the blonde's grip. Michelle again pulled Charisma's head up, turning it toward Sarah.
"Thanks for getting me into this," Michelle mocked in a high-pitched voice, moving Charisma's lips with her fingers.
Sarah sprang to her feet, ready to make Michelle's fun come to an immediate end, but the rules agreed upon by both sides meant entry into the ring was immediate disqualification not only from the match but the tournament as well and the Slayer held her ground at the ring's edge, screaming encouragement to her friend.
But Michelle was the only one in shape to take notice and she responded unfavorably, letting Charisma's head drop back to the canvas while rolling her onto to her chest, playfully untying her bikini top, all the while staring at Sarah in mock astonishment. The 'Slayer' unable to do anything but scowl in contempt.
"This is happening to you next," Michelle said, as she slipped the top off and threw it to Sarah.
She turned Charisma's body to face Sarah and sat astride her back, then reaching under her chin, drew Charisma back in a modified Camel Clutch, the brunette's headlights beaming directly at her teammate, her deep brown eyes appealing for Sarah to do something...anything, but Sarah held firm.
Michelle had made her point with the hold and released it, Carpenter falling limply to the mat. The blonde stood and forced Charisma on to her back with a kick to the kidney, the brunette covering her assets with an overlaid arm. Michelle grabbed her by it and pulled Charisma to her feet, whipping her into the turnbuckle. Her breasts gently undulated on impact, arms flopped over the ropes to keep her upright. Hastily, Michelle followed her quarry in. As a girl, she had always dreamed of being a professional boxer and, although nature had other things in mind, Michelle relished the infrequent opportunity to live out this childhood fantasy.
With surprising effectiveness, she landed a stiff left jab to Charisma's chest then chin, the brunette - already dazed - was ineffective in her attempts to block the rapid blows. A left to her ribs and another...up...down. Michelle smiled, all avenues were open; Charisma was a human punching bag. After the proper tenderizing, Michelle balled her right hand and gave it a little kiss.
But as she sent the coupe de grace, Charisma slid down and kicked one of her lethal legs deep into Michelle's belly. Working on adrenaline never before realized, Charisma raised Michelle out of her crouch with a chop to her chest, the reverberation echoing throughout the arena.
Charisma placed the tip of her index finger on Michelle's chin, took two precise steps back; measuring her blow, then connecting with a solid side kick just left of her bulls-eye. Michelle's head snapping back, her knees rubbery, but somehow she remained standing.
Michelle waved Charisma forward, like a drunk looking for a fight after closing time; unsteady, but unwilling to acknowledge anything was wrong. Now, it was Charisma's chance to survey. Instead of accepting Michelle's invitation, she offered one of her own.
"I might be second string to Sarah, but not to the likes of you."
Carpenter flexed her index finger and the blonde obliged, walking in well before her head had cleared. Michelle threw a wild right that Charisma easily ducked while simultaneously moving into Michelle's body, grabbing her around the waist and using her momentum to lift the smaller blonde, then depositing Williams squarely upon her extended knee. Michelle squealed as the intruding limb buried into her womanhood, the sheath of denim no protection, Charisma grinding a few seconds beyond impact before backing out.
Still, Michelle stood if only to deprive Katie of the satisfaction. Humped over, knees locked, a pained expression...hardly the picture of health, let alone a winner. But still she stood, even managing to throw a punch toward Charisma that might've been better described as a wayward handshake. Charisma accepted the diminutive digits and tossed her through the ropes into the waiting arms of Sarah.
"No rules out here, blondie," Sarah cooed as she wrapped Charisma's top around Michelle's neck; the blonde's hazel eyes bugging as she gagged, flopping fruitlessly in an effort to free herself.
Charisma rolled out in front of her, a devilish smile on her face.
"So we want to play strip tease, do we?"
Charisma snagged Michelle's top at the cleft of her breast and with Sarah's help, slid it up over her arms. Michelle was too busy sucking in a breath of air or two to worry about such trifles, but the crowd felt otherwise, as did Charisma who waved the tartan cloth like a captured flag as she turned to Michelle who was now bare to the waist, panting desperately for air, her breasts heaving.
As Sarah held Michelle's arms locked behind her, Charisma deftly went to work, snatching the soft, giving flesh with both hands and squeezing tightly. Michelle wailed for help from the other side of the ring, but Katie kept her mates in place, the newly arrived Monica fidgeting in her seat, all too familiar with the destruction that seemingly awaited Michelle.
The blonde's breasts were soon a blazing scarlet from Charisma's indelicate abuse, as she added slapping and nipple torture to the regimen. Michelle screamed incoherently as the brunette pulled her nipples away from her chest, shaking her golden tresses in front of her eyes, as if not being able to see the torment would diminish its effects on her.
Charisma finally released, allowing Michelle to resume some form of rational thought. She sniffed the precursor of some tears back into place, as her fingers wildly grasped for Charisma's own tanned bosom, but they remained tantalizingly inches out of her reach, Sarah making sure the Creek star remained helpless to Charisma's whim.
She motioned for Sarah to toss Michelle her way so she could return the favor. Spinning the blonde in place, Sarah shoved her off to Charisma who again pinned Michelle's arms behind her. Williams' face turned from one of pain to undiluted fear. Charisma had been bad enough, but Sarah - and behind her Eliza - were experts in the field of pain management.
The star of the Buffy team closed in slowly, snatching Michelle's face by the cheeks while simultaneously lifting her knee into Michelle's crotch, the blonde's face contorted from pain AND Sarah's tightening grip.
"Smile honey. I thought you liked fun and games. Let's see if we can't raise the stakes."
Sarah slipped her hand down along Michelle's neck, stopping for a few precious seconds to gently caress Michelle's stinging bosom. The soft touch on the battered breasts caused a chill to run down Michelle's spine, but the fingers continued on their voyage softly over the woman's trim belly to the button of her cutoffs. Sarah's agile fingers unfastened the button and slid the zipper down tooth by tooth, giving Michelle a flush of momentary relief even as a little peach fuzz at the upper limit of her thatch poked out between the metal and denim.
From behind Sarah, came a raspy growl. "Let me in there, let me have her," Eliza demanded.
Sarah sneaked a couple of fingers into the moistness, more playing with Michelle than anything. She could taste her fear and wanted more, yet it would be good for the team to get Eliza's spirits up. She had seemed distant and detached. Sarah looked deeply into Michelle's desperate hazel eyes and knew that tacking into Michelle would do wonders for the raven-haired beauty's attention deficit. She slid to the side and let Eliza take her place.
Michelle was showing more fight and Charisma struggled to keep her in place as Dushku measured her blow, winding up in an exaggerated fashion, finally releasing with a right that grazed Michelle's left cheek, but caught Charisma flush in the jaw. The brunette sprawled back wildly, ringpost slamming against her spinal column. She sank to the floor in a amalgam of shock and pain.
Michelle scrambled away and slid into the ring, the perspiration on her breasts leaving a trail where she had slipped in unheeded by Eliza, who flashed a momentary grin before becoming violently animated with Charisma.
"MORON. What the hell were you doing?" Eliza screamed, as Sarah and Alyson looked on in astonishment. "All you had to do was hold her and you can't even do that!"
"But I...I."
Eliza wasn't in the mood. Helping Charisma up, she brusquely shoved her into the ring.
"Go finish her off deadweight, so we can get to the real performers."
Charisma hustled to her feet, staring down at Eliza, unsure of what to make of her actions and unfortunately unsure of Michelle's actions altogether. The young blonde rushed Charisma catching her unaware and driving a shoulderblade into her waist, her breath expelling explosively along with a wad of saliva that landed a good eight feet from its launching point. Charisma managed to stay up with the help of the corner, but this proved to be an expensive crutch as Michelle had her stunned and in close quarters. Learning from her previous mistake, Michelle kept her body tightly against Charisma giving her no room to flash her destructive legs. She cobbled together a combination of forearm shiver to Charisma's chin, a couple of short left and right crosses to the sides of her shapely breasts and - with Charisma sagging under the assault - a brutal grasp of her crotch.
Michelle's fingers were like stilettos stabbing their way to her tender flesh. Throwing her left arm under Charisma's chin, Michelle worked her right into the thin layer of material that separated nails from skin. Her breasts hanging in seductive teardrops, she clutched at the material, stripping the small patch of black material away from the smaller still patch of chocolate brown shorthairs.
Michelle cocked her left elbow and drove it deep into Charisma's gut, giving her a few precious seconds to spin Charisma's g-string into a nothing more than a short twisted cord. Positioning it between the Carpenter's legs and grabbing both ends she jerked the strand up into Charisma's pussy. The brunette screamed as she raised onto her tiptoes in a vain attempt to diminish her torment with Michelle pinioning her in the corner, body on body.
Slowly, Michelle began to saw the tightly wound material back and forth between Charisma's legs grinding into her womanhood. A quick flash of pleasure on Charisma's face quickly turning to pain and squeals as Michelle increased the rapidity of her stroking AND THE FRICTION!
"Oh God, please, please stop," Charisma begged even as she threw desperate shots at Michelle.
The petite blonde deftly dodged as she continued her questionable labor. Charisma glanced down at Sarah through the blur of her tears and saw her return to her seat from her previous ringside perch, hers head shaking in disbelief at the turn of events.
The bitter pain of failure intertwined with the shockwaves emanating from Charisma's crotch and as Michelle gave one last excruciating, exiting tug of the g-string through her swollen lips and butt cheeks then let Charisma fell to the ground face first, not only a physical wreck, but an emotional one, as well. Weeping, as much from her effort to prove herself having been savagely stifled as the crotch pain, Charisma grasped in a futile effort to relieve her pain.
Michelle jumped astride Charisma's sinewy back, grabbing her head with both hands and slamming it into the mat, with each impact her eyes turning more from watery to glassy, progressively relieving her of the consciousness that plagued her. Feeling satisfied that Charisma had been effectively subdued, the young blonde rolled her onto her back, taking a moment to drink in Charisma's naked, panting form below her, pupils partially rolled above her lids. Michelle leisurely turned her head to Sarah and winked, then dropping down upon Charisma took a playful nibble of her neck, the irony not lost on Sarah, even if it was on the semiconscious Charisma, the blonde drawing off no more than a little of Charisma's salty perspiration.
"One good taste deserves another," Michelle said, licking her full, crimson lips.
Charisma was starting to return to the edge of consciousness and Michelle, far from minding, reveled in it. The 'Creek' star edged up Charisma's body, her knees trapping Carpenter's arms in a schoolgirl pin. The Jumbotron above the ring flashed a 1-2-3, the crowd and Michelle chanting in unison for the rather unorthodox, but official count-out. Michelle raised her arms in victory, her breasts responding with an invigoratingly natural jiggle, as she celebrated knotting the tournament at one win apiece.
Having claimed her initial prize, Michelle went about adding pleasure to business. Spinning 180 degrees, her tight, pale ass swallowed the brunette's world throwing her into darkness, but worse still, as Michelle made herself comfortable - squirming into place - she enveloped the remainder of Charisma's beautiful countenance in her sex, delighting in every nuance of the button nose, the soft pull of her mouth, Charisma desperate for a clear breath. Instead, her inhalation brought precious little air while increasing Michelle's breathing pattern. She leaned forward grabbing Charisma's legs and pulled them toward her, in so doing giving the brunette an opportunity to swallow a couple of enormous breaths, but within a second or two the blonde had resettled on her throne, Charisma's legs locked in a cradle, the ultimate seal of her doom. Her arms meekly clenched at Michelle's legs, her face writhing for escape, but only finding its way deeper into the crotch of the ingenue.
Michelle rocked in a slow steady motion using Charisma's legs to balance while using every nuance of her face to push herself toward ecstasy, low moans and sweeping movements gradually replaced by chirpy squeaks and staccato jerks, scarlet indentations placed in Charisma's thighs as Michelle fought to hold on, knowing that release would be bliss, but not wishing to be overwhelmed by the physical manifestation of pure joy the grinding of her victim was bringing her.
And finally, ironically, unable to hold out against Charisma any longer, Michelle shuddered one last time and released, her juices exploding on Charisma's face. Rising a few inches to enjoy the sight, she continued to drip on the reddened face of Charisma, as beautiful in somnolent defeat, as Michelle was in ecstatic victory.
She rolled off her victim and sat next to her, catching her breath even as Charisma struggled to do likewise, though certainly in altogether different circumstances.
The victor called for one of the blue and gold 'DC' robes from her teammates and Monica obligingly tossed one, Katie throwing a look of intense disgust in her direction.
Michelle covered herself, knotting the gold sash around her waist, and walked around her vanquished foe, deciding whether to give the slowly stirring Charisma a second course, but the young blonde was spent and the tournament was far from over.
As she looked over at Charisma's teammates waiting for her to exit so they could enter, Michelle realized this was only a first step and that she might soon be in Charisma's place without total concentration. Still, as she slid out of the ring, she gave herself one little reward for her performance. As she crossed Katie's path on the way to the showers, Michelle flipped her the bird with a little smirk thrown in for good measure. For now, life was good.
Continue to the next 1st rd matches