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Description
Author's Note: Veherzak and I started this collaboration way back in the early days of summer. Isa Armstrong is his character, and we took turns writing this -- astute readers might be able to pick out where my voice ends and his begins, or vice versa. Everyone enjoys the pictures, of course, but we do hope you enjoy the story below as well.

Previous: Stranger in a Strange Land III

"God, I hate this game..." Cosworth grumbled, though she knew that putting her body through such a gruelling test was the only way to ensure ring-worthiness. "Alright, Isa, get on your belly."

Isa clenched her jaw, hoping Camille wouldn't see her gulp hard now that it was her turn to take the pain. Nevertheless, she did as instructed, laying prone on the rubber mat as Cosworth had done a few minutes ago. Armstrong thought her partner might try to one-up her on the Camel Clutch, so it came as a bit of a surprise when she felt the soles of Camille's feet pressing down on her hamstrings.

The position was uncomfortable to be sure, and it got even more so when Isa had her own feet twisted and wedged against Cosworth's shins, immobilizing her entire lower body. Camille bent down and clapped her hands just below the sides of Isa's ribcage, and when the Romani girl yelped in pain and instinctively reached back towards the source of the stinging pain, Cosworth seized a wrist in each hand.

"You know, I would've given you my hands if you'd just asked," Armstrong groused.

"Yeah, sorry, force of habit..." Camille said, sounding mildly amused rather than apologetic. "Okay, Isa, sixty-two seconds is the time to beat. You ready?"

"Umm... I guess soooooOOOOOWWWW!" Isa shrieked when Camille pulled back on her arms, rolled to the mat, and hoisted her high up into a Romero Stretch.

Painfully bent over backwards, Armstrong started to thrash about only to find that Cosworth's control over all four of her limbs was ironclad, the athletic visitor having no trouble at all holding the larger wrestler airborne. While her legs could withstand the strain, the muscles in her abdomen and arms were already screaming in protest, stretched and twisted in a way she'd never thought possible until this very moment.

Isa turned her head to the side to glance at the clock, and to her despair, she was only now passing the ten second mark. Based on her current condition, she knew that her chances of enduring for a full minute were slim to none, therefore she could only hope that keeping her aloft in the Romero Hold would be too taxing for Camille to sustain.

Those hopes, however, were dashed almost immediately.

"Hey, you're pretty bendy for a big gal," Cosworth mused, sounding casual and betraying no signs of exertion in her voice. "Actually, scratch that, you're flexible for anyone."

"Th - Thanks..." Armstrong hissed through her teeth.

"Lemme guess, you were a dancer? Too big for ballet though..."

"P-P-P-Pole..."

"Pole dancing, huh? You have got to teach me some moves to impress my girlfriend."

Isa didn't respond this time as she was too focused on the clock. The thirty second mark had just ticked by, and Camille's bantering was actually doing a good job of taking her mind off the pain. She figured that if she could keep the conversation going, then she might actually outlast Cosworth's time.

"T-Tell me... about your g-g-g-giiiiirrrrrrrl..."

"Oh, well, she's a lot like you, actually. A great dancer that became an even better wrestler..." Camille said with an ease that belied the one hundred and fifty plus pounds she was holding in the air. "Freaky flexible, too. I can't get her to tap to the Romero until I start doing this."

With that said, Cosworth began pumping her legs up and down and up and down like she was working a leg press machine. Each thrust sent a vile bolt of agony through Isa's body that ran from fingertips to toes, and after a quartet, she'd had enough.

"Stop... stooooooop..." she croaked.

Cosworth rocked forward and set her down gently on her knees before releasing her arms, and then Isa to the mat.

"I hate this game too..." Armstrong moaned as she laid face-down and unmoving, echoing the other wrestler's sentiment from earlier. "How long did I last...?"

"Forty-seven seconds," Camille replied, giving Isa a couple of pats on the back. "That's pretty darn good, I'd say."

Still lying prone, Isa clenched a fist and pounded it into the mat, then immediately hissed and recoiled from the pain in her stiff shoulder. In her mind, that had been too easy for Cosworth, and by extension, that would have been too easy for Samiya Kusanagi as well. Hissing and groaning with the effort, Armstrong rolled over onto her back so that she could look Camille straight in the eyes.

"Let's go again," she said, her voice steely and determined. "You start."

Next: Stranger in a Strange Land V

Description
Author's Note: Veherzak and I started this collaboration way back in the early days of summer. Isa Armstrong is his character, and we took turns writing this -- astute readers might be able to pick out where my voice ends and his begins, or vice versa. Everyone enjoys the pictures, of course, but we do hope you enjoy the story below as well.

Previous: Stranger in a Strange Land III

"God, I hate this game..." Cosworth grumbled, though she knew that putting her body through such a gruelling test was the only way to ensure ring-worthiness. "Alright, Isa, get on your belly."

Isa clenched her jaw, hoping Camille wouldn't see her gulp hard now that it was her turn to take the pain. Nevertheless, she did as instructed, laying prone on the rubber mat as Cosworth had done a few minutes ago. Armstrong thought her partner might try to one-up her on the Camel Clutch, so it came as a bit of a surprise when she felt the soles of Camille's feet pressing down on her hamstrings.

The position was uncomfortable to be sure, and it got even more so when Isa had her own feet twisted and wedged against Cosworth's shins, immobilizing her entire lower body. Camille bent down and clapped her hands just below the sides of Isa's ribcage, and when the Romani girl yelped in pain and instinctively reached back towards the source of the stinging pain, Cosworth seized a wrist in each hand.

"You know, I would've given you my hands if you'd just asked," Armstrong groused.

"Yeah, sorry, force of habit..." Camille said, sounding mildly amused rather than apologetic. "Okay, Isa, sixty-two seconds is the time to beat. You ready?"

"Umm... I guess soooooOOOOOWWWW!" Isa shrieked when Camille pulled back on her arms, rolled to the mat, and hoisted her high up into a Romero Stretch.

Painfully bent over backwards, Armstrong started to thrash about only to find that Cosworth's control over all four of her limbs was ironclad, the athletic visitor having no trouble at all holding the larger wrestler airborne. While her legs could withstand the strain, the muscles in her abdomen and arms were already screaming in protest, stretched and twisted in a way she'd never thought possible until this very moment.

Isa turned her head to the side to glance at the clock, and to her despair, she was only now passing the ten second mark. Based on her current condition, she knew that her chances of enduring for a full minute were slim to none, therefore she could only hope that keeping her aloft in the Romero Hold would be too taxing for Camille to sustain.

Those hopes, however, were dashed almost immediately.

"Hey, you're pretty bendy for a big gal," Cosworth mused, sounding casual and betraying no signs of exertion in her voice. "Actually, scratch that, you're flexible for anyone."

"Th - Thanks..." Armstrong hissed through her teeth.

"Lemme guess, you were a dancer? Too big for ballet though..."

"P-P-P-Pole..."

"Pole dancing, huh? You have got to teach me some moves to impress my girlfriend."

Isa didn't respond this time as she was too focused on the clock. The thirty second mark had just ticked by, and Camille's bantering was actually doing a good job of taking her mind off the pain. She figured that if she could keep the conversation going, then she might actually outlast Cosworth's time.

"T-Tell me... about your g-g-g-giiiiirrrrrrrl..."

"Oh, well, she's a lot like you, actually. A great dancer that became an even better wrestler..." Camille said with an ease that belied the one hundred and fifty plus pounds she was holding in the air. "Freaky flexible, too. I can't get her to tap to the Romero until I start doing this."

With that said, Cosworth began pumping her legs up and down and up and down like she was working a leg press machine. Each thrust sent a vile bolt of agony through Isa's body that ran from fingertips to toes, and after a quartet, she'd had enough.

"Stop... stooooooop..." she croaked.

Cosworth rocked forward and set her down gently on her knees before releasing her arms, and then Isa to the mat.

"I hate this game too..." Armstrong moaned as she laid face-down and unmoving, echoing the other wrestler's sentiment from earlier. "How long did I last...?"

"Forty-seven seconds," Camille replied, giving Isa a couple of pats on the back. "That's pretty darn good, I'd say."

Still lying prone, Isa clenched a fist and pounded it into the mat, then immediately hissed and recoiled from the pain in her stiff shoulder. In her mind, that had been too easy for Cosworth, and by extension, that would have been too easy for Samiya Kusanagi as well. Hissing and groaning with the effort, Armstrong rolled over onto her back so that she could look Camille straight in the eyes.

"Let's go again," she said, her voice steely and determined. "You start."

Next: Stranger in a Strange Land V