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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 VI

For her part, Isa didn’t seem to be feeling much in the way of ill-effects as she rolled over, sitting up in turn and stretching her arms.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re giving up?” There was a distinctly pouty element to the look she threw over at Cam, “Don’t forget I need the practice too…”

Cosworth huffed a laugh, resting her elbows on her knees, legs extended in front of her. “Yeah, no. I think you’ve got this one, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you earn it. Give me your worst, Armstrong.”

Isa frowned for a moment then grinned. It was the grin of someone who’d just had a good idea and, in the context of their little contest, Cam reserved the right to be somewhat concerned.

“Just stay right there,” Was all Armstrong said before the dark-tanned brunette scooted around to take a seat behind the visiting wrestler with her legs on either side of Cosworth, leaving Camille momentarily confused about what was to come. That faded however when Isa gently but insistently grabbed her arms and started to tug them back towards her, behind Cosworth’s back.

“Full Nelson?” She asked, eyebrows arched questioningly, “You sure you want to go this way? That Samiya chick had some pretty impressive arms on her…”

“Well…” Isa drew out the word thoughtfully, “She does, so I need to do something about that. And you’re half right…”

“Huh?” Was Camille’s most eloquent response, at least until Isa’s legs snaked up and around her arms, her ankles hooking together smoothly at the base of Cosworth’s neck in the leg-centric variant of the Full Nelson most commonly called the Lotus Lock.

It was a hold Cosworth was well acquainted with, from the victim’s side of the equation, but that didn’t stop her wincing almost immediately as Armstrong’s gams went about wrenching her arms together with merciless efficiency. If Isa’s skill at applying the hold lacked the deft veteran’s touch of a Deschain, those dancer’s legs were every bit as powerful as they looked.

Unlike Sydney, Isa seemed content not to push down on the neck but she made up for that oversight by wrapping her arms around Cam’s to keep them straight and firmly under control. She had also, either through accident or design, found a position that bent the Girl of Tomorrow’s back at an awkward angle, further adding to the discomfort of the Lotus.

All of which combined to wrench a pained yelp from her lips soon followed by a second as Armstrong adjusted her position and tightened her leggy noose.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Maybe this game hadn’t been such a good idea.

“Any tips on this one?” Isa could have been gently mocking. Or she could have been genuinely asking.

“Nah, you’re good.” Trying for nonchalant and not really achieving it, Camille just tried to focus on the slow but steady tick of the clock instead of the steadily rising agony in her arms, shoulders and neck.

Steadily rising to match the steady increase in pressure – every time Cosworth felt sure Isa had topped out, the rookie seemed able to ratchet the strength of her hold up another notch.

“I dunno.” And she was doing it without any apparent effort too. There was a quiet amusement to Isa’s voice. She was feeling strong again and… If she was honest, she’d always taken a tiny bit of glee from introducing others to the power of her legs. Now, she wanted to see how fast she could make Camille tap. “I think I can do better. Maybe like-“

At which point, she let go of Camille’s arms, planted her own palms flat on the mat and bridged up hard.

“Like this?”

“I GIVE, I GIVE!” Almost immediately, Cosworth shouted her submission, suddenly quite sure that she’d had more than enough of this hold.

Luckily Isa was no sadist and a quick release from the torment followed, before Cosworth flopped onto her belly and groaned. She didn’t even want to know how long she’d lasted.

“I hate this game,” she groused into the mats.

Isa laid a comradely hand on her shoulder.

“You good to go again?” She asked after a moment.

"Gimme a minute while I regret some poor life choices..." Camille grumbled as she continued to lay facedown on the mats with her arms limply at her sides, doing a remarkable if unintentional imitation of a beached whale.

Next: Stranger in a Strange Land VII

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 VI

For her part, Isa didn’t seem to be feeling much in the way of ill-effects as she rolled over, sitting up in turn and stretching her arms.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re giving up?” There was a distinctly pouty element to the look she threw over at Cam, “Don’t forget I need the practice too…”

Cosworth huffed a laugh, resting her elbows on her knees, legs extended in front of her. “Yeah, no. I think you’ve got this one, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you earn it. Give me your worst, Armstrong.”

Isa frowned for a moment then grinned. It was the grin of someone who’d just had a good idea and, in the context of their little contest, Cam reserved the right to be somewhat concerned.

“Just stay right there,” Was all Armstrong said before the dark-tanned brunette scooted around to take a seat behind the visiting wrestler with her legs on either side of Cosworth, leaving Camille momentarily confused about what was to come. That faded however when Isa gently but insistently grabbed her arms and started to tug them back towards her, behind Cosworth’s back.

“Full Nelson?” She asked, eyebrows arched questioningly, “You sure you want to go this way? That Samiya chick had some pretty impressive arms on her…”

“Well…” Isa drew out the word thoughtfully, “She does, so I need to do something about that. And you’re half right…”

“Huh?” Was Camille’s most eloquent response, at least until Isa’s legs snaked up and around her arms, her ankles hooking together smoothly at the base of Cosworth’s neck in the leg-centric variant of the Full Nelson most commonly called the Lotus Lock.

It was a hold Cosworth was well acquainted with, from the victim’s side of the equation, but that didn’t stop her wincing almost immediately as Armstrong’s gams went about wrenching her arms together with merciless efficiency. If Isa’s skill at applying the hold lacked the deft veteran’s touch of a Deschain, those dancer’s legs were every bit as powerful as they looked.

Unlike Sydney, Isa seemed content not to push down on the neck but she made up for that oversight by wrapping her arms around Cam’s to keep them straight and firmly under control. She had also, either through accident or design, found a position that bent the Girl of Tomorrow’s back at an awkward angle, further adding to the discomfort of the Lotus.

All of which combined to wrench a pained yelp from her lips soon followed by a second as Armstrong adjusted her position and tightened her leggy noose.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Maybe this game hadn’t been such a good idea.

“Any tips on this one?” Isa could have been gently mocking. Or she could have been genuinely asking.

“Nah, you’re good.” Trying for nonchalant and not really achieving it, Camille just tried to focus on the slow but steady tick of the clock instead of the steadily rising agony in her arms, shoulders and neck.

Steadily rising to match the steady increase in pressure – every time Cosworth felt sure Isa had topped out, the rookie seemed able to ratchet the strength of her hold up another notch.

“I dunno.” And she was doing it without any apparent effort too. There was a quiet amusement to Isa’s voice. She was feeling strong again and… If she was honest, she’d always taken a tiny bit of glee from introducing others to the power of her legs. Now, she wanted to see how fast she could make Camille tap. “I think I can do better. Maybe like-“

At which point, she let go of Camille’s arms, planted her own palms flat on the mat and bridged up hard.

“Like this?”

“I GIVE, I GIVE!” Almost immediately, Cosworth shouted her submission, suddenly quite sure that she’d had more than enough of this hold.

Luckily Isa was no sadist and a quick release from the torment followed, before Cosworth flopped onto her belly and groaned. She didn’t even want to know how long she’d lasted.

“I hate this game,” she groused into the mats.

Isa laid a comradely hand on her shoulder.

“You good to go again?” She asked after a moment.

"Gimme a minute while I regret some poor life choices..." Camille grumbled as she continued to lay facedown on the mats with her arms limply at her sides, doing a remarkable if unintentional imitation of a beached whale.

Next: Stranger in a Strange Land VII