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Description
Original characters fighting for the gallery, and also, with extra story below directly from the commissioner! ^^

"The match was over.

The Nightmare vanquished.

By all rights, Isa Armstrong should have been stood centre ring, referee raising her hand high as she basked in the well-deserved applause of her loyal fans at her first victory.

And yet she wasn’t. Instead she was still sat astride Tasia Grimaldi’s shoulders, not high enough for it to be a smother or a pin but still too high for Tasia’s comfort, with Grimaldi’s arms firmly trapped by Isa’s legs.

For Josh the referee’s comfort too, it seemed at least judging by the nervous way he was shifting his weight. He was a younger man, somewhat new to his job, and authority was not something that came incredibly naturally to him.

Not when this situation was not exactly covered by the rulebooks.

“Uh, Ms Isa,” He had to fight the urge to swallow slightly when her gaze turned his way, “Don’t you think you ought to get off her?”

Isa frowned mock-thoughtfully before shaking her head, grinning. There was a mischievous glint to her eyes, not malicious but it was clear that she had something in mind.

“Not yet – mind being a dear and grabbing me a mic though?” When he hesitated, she half-shrugged, shifting her weight subtly across Tasia’s chest.

“Josh,” She prompted, only to be gratified as he shook himself back to reality and trotted off obediently to fetch what she’d requested. Adjusting her seat, Isa smiled, resting her hands on her hips. Beneath her, Tasia tried again to bridge her off but Isa just rode her struggles out with casual ease. Pinning was one of those things she’d taken to like a fish to water. And the Nightmare wasn’t going anywhere until she said so.

A thought occurred to her and she playfully reached off to slap at Tasia’s tummy.

“Don’t frown, Tasy, it’ll give you wrinkles.” She grinned, “Well, more than you already have, old lady.”

A moment later, Isa was accepting the microphone proffered her way and raising it to her lips.

“Hey, how’s it going everyone?” There was a roar of approval, “Good? Good! Y’know, this was my first win here. And it’s all thanks to Tasy here-“ Another playful slap at the belly, “-So mind giving her a round of applause too?”

The crowd clearly had no problems doing just that, prompting another round of thrashing from Grimaldi to no avail. Isa by contrast beamed around, clearly riding high on the adrenaline of her first win at the AWCC.

“Here’s the thing though. Last time Tasy and I rolled, she won but I had the temerity-“ She was interrupted by a roar from the crowd, Isa nodding in approval, “-The temerity to score a point. One whole point. But Tasy was so insecure that she beat up my best friend and challenged me to a rematch – she wanted to use me as a stepping stone basically.”

Boos. Lots of boos.

“I didn’t really like that. But, hey, I’m new to all this so I asked my dad. You all know who my dad is, right? ‘Bear’ Armstrong? Well, he said ‘Bel, being a good sport gets you a long way in this business. Be a good winner and a better loser, treat people the way you’d want to be treated and people’ll respect that.’”

She shrugged.

“But he also said ‘And sometimes, baby girl, you’ve got to put some heads on pikes so the competition knows not to screw with you.’”

As Isa had been speaking, she’d shifted her legs to free Tasia’s arms and the Nightmare – thinking herself on the verge of freedom – had lifted her head up. That now turned out to be a poor choice indeed because, with practised ease, Isa scooped Tasia’s head up with one leg, pulling it up high and tight between the newcomer’s thick thighs.

“I’m going to need a ten count please!”

With that, even as Tasia’s hands came up to tug futilely at Isa’s thighs, Isa let her have it full force. Crossing her ankles and kicking her legs out as far as she could, she bore down on Tasia’s trapped head with everything she had, her quads bulging, every curve of her limbs hard with solid muscle.

Caught in the iron vice of Isa’s reverse headscissors, Tasia would later swear that she’d never felt anything even remotely like it. Those thighs were like steel pillars, grinding together, feeling like they could break her skull. And if the hold before had been tight, this was on another order of magnitude. She was intimately aware of Isa’s big, powerful glutes centimetres from her face, could feel the surging power in her hamstrings as she tried futilely to pull them apart.

Tasia went into a bout of mindless, fruitless thrashing, but Isa planted her hands and held her ground, even squeezed tighter. Glancing back, she could just see the strain on her victim’s face as her inner thigh muscles bit into Tasia’s neck, choking off the blood and oxygen to her brain.

If there was one saving mercy, it didn’t last long, even if it felt a lot longer to the unfortunate Nightmare. Seconds after Isa put on the big squeeze, Tasia Grimaldi was out cold.

Well aware of the difference between a conscious opponent and an unconscious one, Isa released her almost instantly. Her eyes met a stunned Josh’s, and the wrestler gave him a crooked grin as she rose sinuously to her feet, all curves and hips and suddenly dangerous grace.

“Guess what, Josh. Nobody can handle my scissors.” A finger pressed to his lips cut off any spluttered protests he might have made as Isa raised her microphone back to her lips, “Not her. Not Stephanie. Not Alicia. Nobody. And I’m happy to prove that anytime and anywhere!”

Author's Note: Well, guess Isa has a meaner side to her after all. Tasia'll be remembering this for a long time that's for sure. So was this justified? Or was this too much?"

Commissioned by:

Description
Original characters fighting for the gallery, and also, with extra story below directly from the commissioner! ^^

"The match was over.

The Nightmare vanquished.

By all rights, Isa Armstrong should have been stood centre ring, referee raising her hand high as she basked in the well-deserved applause of her loyal fans at her first victory.

And yet she wasn’t. Instead she was still sat astride Tasia Grimaldi’s shoulders, not high enough for it to be a smother or a pin but still too high for Tasia’s comfort, with Grimaldi’s arms firmly trapped by Isa’s legs.

For Josh the referee’s comfort too, it seemed at least judging by the nervous way he was shifting his weight. He was a younger man, somewhat new to his job, and authority was not something that came incredibly naturally to him.

Not when this situation was not exactly covered by the rulebooks.

“Uh, Ms Isa,” He had to fight the urge to swallow slightly when her gaze turned his way, “Don’t you think you ought to get off her?”

Isa frowned mock-thoughtfully before shaking her head, grinning. There was a mischievous glint to her eyes, not malicious but it was clear that she had something in mind.

“Not yet – mind being a dear and grabbing me a mic though?” When he hesitated, she half-shrugged, shifting her weight subtly across Tasia’s chest.

“Josh,” She prompted, only to be gratified as he shook himself back to reality and trotted off obediently to fetch what she’d requested. Adjusting her seat, Isa smiled, resting her hands on her hips. Beneath her, Tasia tried again to bridge her off but Isa just rode her struggles out with casual ease. Pinning was one of those things she’d taken to like a fish to water. And the Nightmare wasn’t going anywhere until she said so.

A thought occurred to her and she playfully reached off to slap at Tasia’s tummy.

“Don’t frown, Tasy, it’ll give you wrinkles.” She grinned, “Well, more than you already have, old lady.”

A moment later, Isa was accepting the microphone proffered her way and raising it to her lips.

“Hey, how’s it going everyone?” There was a roar of approval, “Good? Good! Y’know, this was my first win here. And it’s all thanks to Tasy here-“ Another playful slap at the belly, “-So mind giving her a round of applause too?”

The crowd clearly had no problems doing just that, prompting another round of thrashing from Grimaldi to no avail. Isa by contrast beamed around, clearly riding high on the adrenaline of her first win at the AWCC.

“Here’s the thing though. Last time Tasy and I rolled, she won but I had the temerity-“ She was interrupted by a roar from the crowd, Isa nodding in approval, “-The temerity to score a point. One whole point. But Tasy was so insecure that she beat up my best friend and challenged me to a rematch – she wanted to use me as a stepping stone basically.”

Boos. Lots of boos.

“I didn’t really like that. But, hey, I’m new to all this so I asked my dad. You all know who my dad is, right? ‘Bear’ Armstrong? Well, he said ‘Bel, being a good sport gets you a long way in this business. Be a good winner and a better loser, treat people the way you’d want to be treated and people’ll respect that.’”

She shrugged.

“But he also said ‘And sometimes, baby girl, you’ve got to put some heads on pikes so the competition knows not to screw with you.’”

As Isa had been speaking, she’d shifted her legs to free Tasia’s arms and the Nightmare – thinking herself on the verge of freedom – had lifted her head up. That now turned out to be a poor choice indeed because, with practised ease, Isa scooped Tasia’s head up with one leg, pulling it up high and tight between the newcomer’s thick thighs.

“I’m going to need a ten count please!”

With that, even as Tasia’s hands came up to tug futilely at Isa’s thighs, Isa let her have it full force. Crossing her ankles and kicking her legs out as far as she could, she bore down on Tasia’s trapped head with everything she had, her quads bulging, every curve of her limbs hard with solid muscle.

Caught in the iron vice of Isa’s reverse headscissors, Tasia would later swear that she’d never felt anything even remotely like it. Those thighs were like steel pillars, grinding together, feeling like they could break her skull. And if the hold before had been tight, this was on another order of magnitude. She was intimately aware of Isa’s big, powerful glutes centimetres from her face, could feel the surging power in her hamstrings as she tried futilely to pull them apart.

Tasia went into a bout of mindless, fruitless thrashing, but Isa planted her hands and held her ground, even squeezed tighter. Glancing back, she could just see the strain on her victim’s face as her inner thigh muscles bit into Tasia’s neck, choking off the blood and oxygen to her brain.

If there was one saving mercy, it didn’t last long, even if it felt a lot longer to the unfortunate Nightmare. Seconds after Isa put on the big squeeze, Tasia Grimaldi was out cold.

Well aware of the difference between a conscious opponent and an unconscious one, Isa released her almost instantly. Her eyes met a stunned Josh’s, and the wrestler gave him a crooked grin as she rose sinuously to her feet, all curves and hips and suddenly dangerous grace.

“Guess what, Josh. Nobody can handle my scissors.” A finger pressed to his lips cut off any spluttered protests he might have made as Isa raised her microphone back to her lips, “Not her. Not Stephanie. Not Alicia. Nobody. And I’m happy to prove that anytime and anywhere!”

Author's Note: Well, guess Isa has a meaner side to her after all. Tasia'll be remembering this for a long time that's for sure. So was this justified? Or was this too much?"

Commissioned by: