NEW - NOIR EXTREME WRESTLING

The first match of the night is just about wrapped up; we're the second, way down on the undercard. That's alright; tonight isn't about settling scores or trying to flutter my way up the ranks, though I'd be lying if I said I didn't care at all. Tonight is about the start of something new, and I'm not talking about the new, romper-style one-piece I'm trying out, though that's sure to be a hit even if I do say so myself! No, tonight is about the girl standing next to me behind the curtain as we await our cue. I turn to you with a warm, tender smile and step close enough that she can sure smell the mix of scents, the gentle sweetness of my cleansed and moisturized skin, the cosmetic whiff of foundation feathered into the valley of my cleavage to add just that hint more shadow. I gotta wonder if she knows what she's getting into by joining the division. Sure, the glitz, stage lights, and glamour can be alluring, but when the music fades and the bell rings, are you ready for what the women of NEW can unleash? It's out of concern that I reach out, brushing my knuckles featherlike over your cheekbone, dear sweet flower girl, and step closer and speak soft enough the stagehands can't hear. "I'm so glad I got to share this with you... Your big debut". I say, and I mean it, but I mean what comes next, when my expression darkens. "The fans won’t accept hesitation and the other girls in the locker room?... But you can't hold back there... And neither can I". I plant a kiss on your cheek and then... It's time

I'm out first, to the familiar halo lights, thumping music, and roar of approval. A silhouette under the hues of purples and pinks that seem to paint themselves across my waiting figure. And when the lights sweep down the ramp and highlight my path, I'm strutting toward the waiting ring, where my own blood is stained into the thread of the canvas along with so many others. The sight never fails to stir my senses and make my heart flutter, even as I move with the practiced grace of a catwalk model. Soon I'm skipping up the steps and into the ring where I parade around till my music dies, then plant myself on the rope, pushing the middle band down with my boot to make an entrance way for the debutante. I can't help but wonder, will the little backyard brawler blossom under the lights? Or will you wilt?

Daisy Fletcher

My nail taps impatiently against each segment of my fingers, occupying itself by taking inventory of the rest of my body while my lungs pump themselves in a rotation, holding my breath threefold for every inhale. You'd think that being a big name in front of a small corner of the internet would prepare me to handle pressure like a diamond, but tonight, I felt like I might as well have the constitution of construction paper. My hair fell against my back and over my shoulder, seemingly melting into the shiny black top that blended well with the rest of my attire, a welcome gift from the head of the federation herself. The hem of the bottoms caressed both of my legs perfectly, slithering down my legs in a sheer net that extended into black boots that sounded with a domineering presence with each step, a stark contrast to my timid nerves now. I didn't even register that my darling opponent next to me was talking to me before I turned my cheek, unknowingly putting it in harm’s way of a cheeky peck! Luckily, I didn't need to hide the blush invading my cheeks as you walked down the ramp, silently hyping myself up to follow right after.

"Pfft...whatever...I can handle her..." I muttered under my breath as I crept up to the edge of the darkness, peering behind the curtains at the flashing lights and roaring fans. My eyes widened at the sight, taking in the views that made my backyard ring seem like a child's play area. I marched out along the metal ramp as the overhead beams spotlighted my entrance, a slight sway in my hips and hair as I waved to the adoring crowd with a wide grin. As I slid up to the edge of the canvas, I climbed up next to you and graciously ducked under the ropes, winking back at you with a passing glance. "...and I'd expect everything you got! Just try to keep up~" I purred as I held the rope from the other side, gesturing for you to follow me into the ring, all the while averting my eyes from the unsettling sights and stains already sewn into the ring itself.

Mina Anderson

We've been friends for some time, but right up until I see you sashaying down the ramp, I've been fretting about tonight. Now though, as you step through the ropes and return the favor with a cheeky wink and a cool, easy challenge, I can't help but grin a big, bright, and genuine grin. You've never looked better! Like you belong nowhere else! I can't help but wonder if this atmosphere affects you the same way it does me. The noise, the energy... It's empowering, tantalizing, even addictive! The decibels lift an octave higher when I squat low and feel tension creasing across the rear of my shiny white and pink one piece then reach out to delicately take your hand as I step inside the ring. "Hehe... Everything I got is too much for you to handle, Daisy Dukes!"

Formality takes over, with a little help from the ref, who ushers us to part ways into our respective corners. "THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL AND IS NO HOLD BARRED MATCH!". By now the ramps have dimmed into the ether and all spotlights are on the ring and on us. They're almost as hot as the Arizona Sun. A stifling dry heat that can sap you quickly if you're not in tip-top shape. But I can't remember starting a match feeling as good as I do right now... As comfortable, but also... As confident... After all, I'm a pro with my own merch line feeding right into a philanthropic model, while you... "When we're done, will you apologize to all your simps for me. They'll be upset that you're going to be outa action so long". I'm only half joking. I'd be doing you no real favors by making this a friendly fight. So, the moment the bell rings, I'm skipping forward with outstretched arms, looking to lock up in the center of the ring and let my momentum bully you back toward your corner...

Daisy Fletcher

As I sit back in my corner after the opening exchange, I can't help but peer out into the sea of blurred faces adorning the stands around us. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest, synchronizing with the pulse of the audience. I blew a few kisses to some lucky members standing right up at the barricades while I swished my hair back and forth in a dramatic wave motion, letting the silky midnight-shaded locks fly over my shoulder. Being in front of the camera and on everyone's feed had its fair share of boons, at least, as I still remembered a few tricks on how to soak up the spotlight when it was on me. Only when the loud bell echoed throughout the arena was I brought back to reality; exhaling a defiant huff I marched towards the center of the ring.

My fingers wiggled eagerly, ready for the intimate touch before an even friendlier battle. "Just because we're in the big leagues here doesn't mean I won't go easy on you..." I muttered as my arms slapped against yours, one arm clapping against the forearm of your counterpart while my other hand clamped against the back of your neck. "...and I'll apologize to them...but only for not playing with you more than I should have!" Despite the gusto in my words, my actions were telling a much different story. All the leverage and quick-witted taunting in the world could have prevented my actual backside, as I find myself conceding step after precious step in territory. Every lean forward into the push only solicited a counter step back to prevent myself from tripping over, but that did not last long before my back was reacquainted with the corner posts. "Guh...you're a... lot stronger...than you look..." I choked in between huffs, wrestling side to side but finding myself only moving backwards!

Mina Anderson

My gloved hands clasp around your forearms and lock in the tangle I'm peering over, through a couple of stray bangs of vivid pink hair, searching for any sign of hesitation or weakness. It's pleasing to find nothing but defiance, but I'm still taking the first steps of this dance. My tresses sway across my back and my thighs tense like coiled springs stealing step after ring-creaking step. "And you are…just as... easy as you look". I snipe as the lightly padded turnbuckle halts your retreat but not my insistent advance. I press myself tight against you, hip to hip and your bare stomach against the smooth, static-lite crinkle of my lycra suit, where the outline of hard-earned abs ripple against you. I'm trying to force your back to arch your body and then shove your arms up into the air so I can skip back and twist my body. Planting my one foot, I'll thrust my boot up in a steep side kick, trying to pin rather than strike, and plant my sole right under your chin and into your windpipe. From there, I'll grab the ropes in front of me, anchor in the position, and trap you in the foot choke...

Daisy Fletcher

The contours of my back deform against the staggered back stops, pressing further against them as my body tries to retreat into a refuge that doesn't exist. The body-to-body contact sends shivers down my spine, opposing the heat building from the friction of my soft belly being ground to dust against the hardened abs of my foe. My head starts tilting back, staring up at the blinding lights while the rest of my limbs wave around like a massive inflatable advertisement, hands clutching and clawing at the massive boot pressed right up against my chin. One arm just out to wave at the referee, hoping he can provide some form of grounded divine intervention while my foot impatiently stomps at the ground, having already tried standing on my toes to try and alleviate some of the pressure. "Gyyaack!....R-Ref....D-d-do something!" I choked as I could feel my eyes nearly popping out of their eye sockets, and even fluttered, kicking a few times as I was nearly lifted off my feet!

Mina Anderson

In a normal match, this opening gambit would be counted down and broken up after a few seconds but this, "No Holds Barred, Daisy", the ref answers in a matter-of-fact voice as he moves in closer. His job is simply to count a pin and announce a winner. Apart from that, he's just the fan with the best seat in the house to take in how my taut, gym-sculpted leg flexes as a low ache creeps through my hamstring and calf. Yet I keep you pinned back in that strewn arch as long as I can, trying to sap as much of your strength and breath as I can early on. Even if I could simply choke you out with this move, doing so, I realize, would be a disservice to us both, and the fans watching so eagerly. So, I arch my back and toss my head back in a flurry of bright pink curls so I can catch your eye for a moment, try and judge if the moment is right before finally, mercifully removing my boot. I'm still holding the top rope for support as I try to transition into a follow-up by hopping onto the bottom rope and letting the creaky tension springboard my trim body, twisting toward you. I try to catch you in a head scissors that'll bring my thighs clamping snug around your ears and thud my silky smooth, lycra coated hips snug into your face, blocking out your world for a split second while my body snaps back into a flip and completes a hurricanronta that will see you acquainted, face first with the historied canvas underneath us!

Daisy Fletcher

Everything below my chin starts ascending as my feet cling to the bottom rope, nearly lifting off the ground and just itching to keep the rest of me grounded from my pseudo-decapitation! The referee might have been nonexistent, offering no salvation nor pity as I choked back my next plea, feeling my words pile up in my throat just to cut off even more air. My hands wrench around your ankle, providing useless torque as the edges of my vision begin to fade into black patches before I feel a wave of relief wash over me, the incoming air tasting like precious ambrosia. I swallow a few deep gasps as I clutch the ropes for stability, only looking up to catch a short glimpse of a whirling body hurtling towards me. Before I can even bring my hands up, a massive trunk of a thigh clamps on either side of my head, clutching it in a tight vice as my arms swing up in response to try and pry myself free. "Mmmmmph! Hnnnnngh Hmmmmmmn!" The first few tugs barely make a dent before the final tug instead sends my full body flipping over itself into the canvas, slamming face first into the mat. My face explodes with pain, random shapes floating around my sight as I recoil off the ground like a fish out of water. I somehow managed to flip and roll my way to the opposite side, one arm clinging onto the rope to pull myself up while the other swats away at an imaginary foe, acting as a ward to try and buy myself some more precious recovery!

Mina Anderson

The move has a price even to me, the landing and the way the snapping torque echoes through my washboard abs. But gosh, what a rush! You, on the other hand, pay a much heavier price; I can feel it from the ripples spreading out under the creaky boards underneath me as I sit on my knees, romper-covered rear pinning my ankles. I puff my cheeks with a quick sigh and inhale, take a moment to adjust the neckline of my one-piece, ensuring it's snapped just so in place, and then start blowing kisses out into the thunderous crowd. Noise swirls around you in a disorienting wave, rising each time I pump my fists in the air. I'm feeding off it, letting it fill my limbs with restless energy and strength! And when I've had that moment to catch my breath, I roll back, helicopter my legs out, and flip back onto my feet. By now you’re pawing at the ropes and fighting off what I like to imagine as cute lil angels circling your head... From here, the position you’re in writes the script. It would be rude not to follow it. So, I skip forward, arching my run so I come up bounding behind you, leap forward and try to plant myself across the back of your head and guillotine your neck into the middle rope!

Daisy Fletcher

I manage to find some moments of respite against the ropes, clinging onto them like a life preserved amidst towering waves. The burning sensation in my lungs dies down as I manage to get some refreshing breaths despite taking another drastic impact straight to my forehead. The only remedy was the rapid blinking of my eyes as I fixated on the barrier across from me, feeling everything click back into place and come to a settling halt. "Guuh...alright, Fletcher...you're still in this!..." I huffed to myself as I placed both palms on the middle rope, gently lifting myself up. At half mast, I could feel small vibrations in the floorboards that picked up in intensity and pace, and without thinking I boosted myself off of the middle rope to try and tuck and roll awkwardly away, knowing when I'm in the path of a charging bull and knowing better than to try and stay my ground!

Mina Anderson

I promised to bring my all to this fight. You asked for it after all, and even if that means sweeping a dear friend aside in a tsunami of high-octane, high-risk offence, well then, so be it. I'm not about to lie and act like I don't enjoy the adrenaline pumping through my veins like some illicit drug or the confidence building as I work up a head of steam and rapidly bounce along speed. The fans love my high-energy style almost as much as the bright, vibrant smile that simply won’t be suppressed as I zero in on your body and leap up at... Nothing. One second, you're there, prone and at my mercy, and then, like a wisp of sparkle smoke, you’re gone, and I'm... "oh... shi... GyyyUUFFFFF!" My legs slip through the ropes as my stomach catches across the top rope, folding my body like a chair. I feel that hot friction burn bite and air leaving my lungs in a rasping wheeze while my body bounces on the bottom rope. It takes me a second or two to fully compute what just happened and just how I ended up sitting with my butt pushed out into the ring while my boots dangle from the apron. Somehow, I'm clutching the top rope, preventing me from falling back into the ring as I stare out in the sea of faces, all painted with the same "oooh" ing expression. In truth, my ego's much more bruised than my body, but all that hard-won momentum vanished just as quickly as you did... "Sneaky... little... Minx..."

Daisy Fletcher

A small tumbleweed in the shape of a pale, raven-haired girl rolls across the canvas before plopping onto her butt, as I feel the air rush over my head and narrowly avoid a swift end to an already swift match. I can finally reset and recalibrate, massaging both my sore bottom and raspy neck as I look back to watch you fly gracefully just to land clumsily against the ropes. "Y-you know...me...so w-w-well..." My breath still quivers from the rough housing my throat received in the corner, still taking to the cool air filtering through it. "Time...for a taste...of your own...medicine!" I growled as I stood up to my feet and stomped forward, trying to wrap my arm around your neck and pull your head back, tugging it back against my side to stare up at the lights and to pull you off of the ropes, marching us to the center in a standing dragon sleeper hold! My fingers interlock under your back to pull you ever so tightly, squishing your face and cheek between my elbow and my stomach. After a few good squeezes, my restraining arm braces itself in the dip of my body while I raise my other arm to flex, even kissing my bicep as I smirk mischievously out towards the crowd!

Mina Anderson

I manage to glance back when you reply and see you getting up to your feet and marching toward me. "Ugh, oh!" I gasp as I look back out to the crowd with impending panic etched on my face. I shake my head and wriggle my body, trying so frantically to shuffle my thighs and rear back from the middle rope, but all I manage to achieve is to beat my heels on the ring apron and flail my legs. "Medicine!? But I'm not even si-". My voice catches and trails off when you capture me in that hold and start to tug and pull. My hands tightened around the top rope, but after three good heave hoes, you manage to pull me free and slide my body free of its tangle. Instead, I'm spider-walked into the middle of the ring, arms flailing up at you while you lock me into that arched position, planted feet holding my hips high while smooth, shimmer bright lycra traces the ripe swell and firm ridged expanse stretched out before your flexing arm like an offering!

Daisy Fletcher

My arm waves and flows like a boat on the open sea, using the crests and dips of the roaring audience to dictate my movements and motions. "Are you not entertained?!" I shouted, reveling in the feel of a gladiatorial clash between two fierce friends and fierce rivals. My hand rises to the heavens as I mold it into a thumbs-up, waiting for the crowd to crescendo into roaring applause as my thumb tilts down and slides across my neck. Taking to a windmill motion, my free arm waves in a circular motion before hanging in the air like the blade of a guillotine. Time seems to slow down to a halt before every sound and every sensation rushes in at once as I bring my arm down, slamming both of our bodies against the canvas in one devastating fall!

Mina Anderson

It's nice that one of us is having fun, very much at my expense as I stare up at you with my features still smooshed up between arm and stomach, making a dumb looking duck face. My eyes follow your arm, acting as executioner and theatrical conductor at very same time. You direct every ebb and pitch from the crowd around us, every oh and ah. And all while I'm still squirming and twisting within your grasp. There’s more method to my struggles now at least, you can feel my hands prying and clawing at the arm vice around my throat, but that does little more than clear the stage for your show! "Daisy... you bsshhh... leffffggffff!!" I hiss but you and your mob simply will not be denied! Injury Follows insult as you crash me down under you, and I shudder at the very epicenter of the impact rippling through the canvas. Blotches of color flash across my field of vision as if carried up by the choked grunt as the air's driven from my rippling chest, leaving me stunned and winded and still stuck under the crook of your arm!

Daisy Fletcher

Cushioned by a pair of pillowy mounds, my bony elbow hits paydirt, centering right along your sternum, bouncing off harmlessly while my butt plops on the ground with a soft thumping that's drowned out by the loud crashing right next to me. Taking a moment to myself, and a mighty proud moment, might I add, I flip my hair over one shoulder before reaching down to cup both your cheeks into a duck face, mouthing gibberish. "Look at me! My name's Mina! And I'm Daisy's Biggest Jobber!" I giggled to myself before I pushed your cheek away dismissively. I brushed myself off and rose to my feet, waving to the crowd and even blowing a few kisses of my own before I stopped right at your legs, reaching down and hooking one under each arm as I nodded along with the crowd. I shuffled haphazardly forward, taking special care not to ruin any more of the goods as I knelt down into a seated position, cutting out a V shape between my legs that leaves just enough room for your head in a matchbook pin, desperately waving over the referee to start a count!

Mina Anderson

"uuuufff hwwfff dddfff yyppphhh sssiifffyyypphhh ddttsshhh!!!" I manage to mumble through pursed glossy pink lips at the pair of Daisy's blurring in and out of focus above me. Now it's insult to injury and injury, but before I can react to this embarrassment, you shove my cupped face to the mat, and the rest of my body follows languidly behind, tumbling in slow motion onto my side. Somewhere, far away, I can hear the crowd reacting to your showboating, but it's your words that are ringing in my ears. I am NOT your biggest jobber; I'm actually kind of on the petite side. You'd see that if you weren't such a skinny little bitch!! Somewhere along the way, my resentful inner monologue gets interrupted, and I'm on my back again, only now your scrawny ass is pushing down onto my chin!! "What the fffuufffFFFF!!" My eyes go wide, and I'm full in the moment. Not a moment too soon, because the ref is right there slapping a ONE count. I scramble to bring my knees in and plant my feet. TWO! I flex my thighs and pump my hips up in a sudden, forceful thrust, trying to tip you forward and throw you off my body before you can claim a sneaky win!

Daisy Fletcher

My arms wrap around your legs like vines, waggling my cheeks against your chest as I try to nestle into a firm pin. I can feel the crowd channeling their energy into the match, my body coiling even further into the pin and pumping outward with the first slap of the count. Amidst the pulse of the potential closer, the perspiration trickling down my shoulders and coating our bodies causes me to lose my grip on your legs, opting to double forward and instead plant my hands on your wrists to try and go for a top-heavy pin instead. "Hehe...you're also a lot weaker than I remember..." Feeling the second slap from the referee, I cheekily wink at the crowd and roll out my tongue for the cameras. "Time to say goo- Woooahh WHAAA-" But instead of a third count, my body catapults forward onto the mat and splats on the ground, feeling the rough landing broken up by my cushioning chest. Flattened and pancake on my chest, my hands massaged my sore cheeks and dizzy head, an arm flopping around searching for the bottom rope to help myself up!

Mina Anderson

I flop onto the ground and puff out a relieved sigh. That was a little closer for comfort. I'd never live it down if I lost to a backyard amateur in record time. A glance up, over the curve of my body to see you splat and clamber for the ropes only highlights that. So, I draw my knees in, rock my weight onto my shoulders, and SNAP my body up onto my feet in a stomach-torquing jackknife movement. "Time to say what, Daisy Cups?" I ask as I take a moment to look at you, pawing around by the edge of the ring. "I didn't quite catch that". Catching your feet, though, should prove a tad easier. I'll wait till you've found those elusive ropes first of course, then, if all comes according to my most intricate of plans, I'll pull your body taut, stretched out in the air between the ropes and me, and drive a sharp, snapping boot right into your tummy!

Daisy Fletcher

Course palms snatch onto the rough bottom rope as I slithered along the ground like a worm, already rubbing off the less than stellar landing when I felt something start pulling on my boots, lifting my ankles to the air as I took flight again. Now my hands no longer acted as grapple points to pull me further, but rather as anchor points to keep myself from being lifted into the air. "H-hey! Put me d-d-down!" My feet attempted a few kicks to escape, but with only so much room to work with, I just awkwardly bicycle-kicked in suspended animation, hopefully enough so that the crowd and my opponent couldn't see the rosy, flushed cheeks of embarrassment from below. Right as I felt my knees bend a little, I tried flexing my muscles in my legs for a powerful kick to eject myself from this precarious situation just to feel a foot snap straight to my tight stomach, cracking against it with a thunderous clap. "GYYYYYAAACCCKK" A choked cry descended into a coughing fit as I crumpled inward like a paper ball, arms clutching at my sore stomach as spit and saliva painted the canvas floor!

Mina Anderson

I feel my kick that all that pesky fight out of you for the moment. My moment! You crumple up, but I've still got your ankles, so I just yank you straight again, bridging the canvas between the ropes and my pretty pink boots. I start to rock on my heels, forward and back with a heave and a "Stupid". Another Heeeeave and a "Skinny"... Heeeeeeave... "HOE!!" I jump back, trying to break your grasp as I flick my legs forward and land on my ass, hoping you come down too, face first into the waiting ring!

Daisy Fletcher

My hands grab onto the ropes again like a lifeline, trying to escape more than fight back without the proper footing or even opening. My arms clung around it like a life preserver as I'm held straight out again, watching the rope creak back and forth as I'm pulled back and forth. On the last pump, my hands break from the rope and claw at the air trying to make their way back to safety! "WAIT NO N-" My cries are cut off by a hard smack against the canvas, my ankles still dangling under your arms while the rest of my body stretches out against the canvas, my muffled groan against the canvas smothered as I lay face down and stunned!

Mina Anderson

The ring shakes underneath us, bringing a cute little bounce to how I land on my rear with you flattened out so invitingly in front of me. A zillion possibilities blossom through my mind for just how to break the stem of this cute lil flower, starting with those skinny legs. Yet it's your scrawny ass that I find myself reaching for right away, so I can smack a Ba-Da-Be-Boom drum beat out in sharp slaps across your cheeks. "What was that, Daisy!? Maybe if you took the mat out of your mouth, I could hear you!" I giggle as I take your ankles and try to roll you over and onto your back, where I can slide out one leg and wind yours around it and into a figure four leg lock!

Daisy Fletcher

Dazed and downed, fighting back or even resisting my beating buttocks is the furthest thought from my mind as my groggy groan is swallowed by the canvas. The roaring crowd around us dulls into a buzzing whoosh in my head as my hands just slowly slap against the canvas, trying to lift myself up before pressing deep into the ground as my legs start to levitate above my head. It doesn't take long for a slow, simmering burn to rise in my core, my body almost bent into the shape of the letter C as I'm seemingly reawakened to my new perilous position! "Gahhhh wha! GYYYAAAHHH FUUUUUH!" One hand drags tufts of my hair out of my scalp, trying to take my mind off the numbing pain, while my other hand balls into a fist, rattling off the ground like a toddler mid-tantrum, while my legs try to kick, instead caught on each other in your grasp while my body tries to wedge itself out of the curve of your rear end!

Mina Anderson

I'm known for many things, but none of them are my submission wrestling. The hold's a little awkward to lock in, but once I'm straddled nice n' snug around your straight leg and my hands are gripped tight around your foot, the hold's working just as I hoped. I can tell by the way you thrash around like you're having a fit. "Awwwh, what's up, buttercup? Does this hurt, hehehe!!" I giggle as I let myself fall back and press harder, wrenching through your knee while I bridge my body elegantly under those beaming bright lights that catch every pearl of sweat gleaming on my skin like diamond dust. I'm still holding your foot as I feel you squirm against the nexus of my now squeezing, clamping thighs. Sweat makes it harder to hold you prisoner to the hold, though, and I feel your straightened leg starting to slowly, inch by inch, slip free

Daisy Fletcher

Tears swell in my eyes, gated behind eyelids squeezed shut in a vain attempt to push through the pain. A few droplets manage to leak out and draw streaks down my face, the black makeup around my eyes now drawing smudged lines down my cheeks. The pain starts to subside in my abdomen, the weight now being tied down against the canvas as my arms swim along the ground, gaining very little to no traction at all. Eventually, a wayward hand grips a solid hold, mistaking a shaky foot for the corner post as my other arm tries to swing over, as if attempting to clutch onto a pole for safety. My legs, now lubricated by copious amounts of perspiration from both the spotlights that beat down on my skin with the power of a thousand suns and the strenuous holds exerted, slightly move against their captors and I can feel my joints grinding against one another, waiting for the perfect moment to synchronize with my hands to coil inwards and collapse in on myself, using a balled-up position to try and shield myself from further harm and reset my position!

Mina Anderson

Every now and then I can lift my head and peek over the swell of my chest at the itsy-bitsy spider sprawling across the canvas. Could I grab a win like this!? The thought spurs me on to keep wrenching on those creaking joints by beating my shoulders into the mat, then popping up into the same sitting position. From here, I can see grey tracks seeping from your big doe eyes. But I can also see that desperation never quite fades into resignation. Instead, you catch my foot, you squirm, you slither, and you time it just right. "Damn it!" I exclaim when you peel out of my hold and roll away, leaving me to smack the canvas as I roll onto my side, then scoot my feet under my body and spring back up with a bounce and flutter. While you cower, I move, circling around to a safe position before I reach down for your raven locks and start to lift you slowly onto your feet, and more importantly onto that tormented leg...

Daisy Fletcher

In my mind, I imagined a spectacular roll out, where I'd stop on the smooth of my back and plant my hands, launching myself into a soaring flip where I'd land with a triumphant thump on my feet, with the backdrop of a roaring crowd and thunderous applause, much to your dismay. Instead, what I got in reality was a clumsy hobble and a roll off to the side, half-nursing my tweaked leg and the other attempting to catch myself before rolling all the way out of the ring. Just pulling myself up on the ropes felt like a herculean task, nearly stumbling back down to the ground after I tried putting weight on my injured leg. "Just you fucking wait..." I winced, hissing as my jet-black hair was tugged away from the ropes and back towards the center of the ring. The pain was too much as I ended up tripping to one knee in front of you, taking up a rather advantageous position, as despite my legs being roughed up, I still had a pair of working arms. "...just you wait for this, you bitch!" I growled as I swung my arm up like a pendulum, tensing it into a rod of focused fury aimed right between your legs!

Mina Anderson

It's about time I put you out for the one two three count. I'm leading you, by the black silk interlaced through my fingers, into the abyss that is the center of the ring, where you'll have nowhere to escape to. And yet, you manage to derail my plans first when your knee gives out and you drop to kneel in front of me. "Poor girl". I coo, still holding your hair even as I use the other hand to clear stray bangs from your face and look down at the tear-streaked face of a friend. I'm searching for a new exclamation point to put on this match from here while you wind up, I barely notice, though my brow does furrow when you call me a bitch. My lips push into a bemused little pout for a second before your arm lands between my legs like a crowbar. "aaaIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!". I lift up onto my tippy toes then spring on the balls of my feet a couple of times, jiggling and bouncing as my legs go weak, and both hands clutch my crotch. My body drops into a similar kneeling position as pain pulses through my pubic bone and tears swell up in my eyes and roll through the frosted pink glitter on my cheeks. "Aaawwww you... little....". You can hear my feet beating on the mat behind me as I slump forward till our brows meet and our eyes are locked. "I... I can't believe... you did that!"

Daisy Fletcher

"Oh...we are JUST....getting started!" I huffed, my shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath as my leg still dragged behind like an anchor caught on the reefs. My hands launched forward and cuffed around your pretty, little cheeks, running my thumbs against the smooth surfaces to swirl distorted makeup around. "And now...time for your comeuppance!" I barked, one arm arching up to create a small loop, the other hand guiding your head down by the back of your neck and sliding it into place before the guillotine of an arm snapped shut over it. The friction between my sweat-coated waist and the hot touch of your cheeks was electric. Holding you pinned against me in one arm, I raised the other around with a closed fist, pumping it into the air as if trying to establish the pulse for my comeback before throwing in a cheeky flex just for my own self-validation. "Here we go!" I shouted as I swung my legs out forward and pulled my back down, trying to slam your face straight into the canvas!

Mina Anderson

I'm still clutching my crotch while you clasp my face and push my lips into a puckered-up pout and smoosh my makeup around till specks of glitter film across your fingers and fall away from my cheeks. My eyes narrow and brow furrows into ridged creases; no matter what I do, I can't seem to keep you under my kitten-heeled boot for long, and now you have me reeling on my knees and folding into the side headlock. "My dumoffense?" I splutter as you snag me tight into your side as I flail my hands and thud my fists into your back, all the while squirming in a way that makes the back of my snug lil romper suit see-saw behind me. From our kneeling position, the DDT isn't as bad as some that I've taken in this very ring, but having my poor, beautiful face planted in the canvas is never a good thing. The impact rolls up my spine and spikes my ass high in the air while shiny pink heels flick into the air behind me and my feet beat on the mat in frustration. I am still aware of my situation as much as the pain shooting through my head, though, and my arms are still around you behind you, snaking up as I try to grab to handfuls of your hair and wriggle myself up your body while you under me so I can straddle your waist...

Daisy Fletcher

My gimp legs swing back and forth like a pendulum, picking up both momentum and height before flying out from under me at the last moment. My head and back tilt backwards, allowing gravity to take what’s left of me as we both catapult to the ground with a loud SMACK! The hard canvas still stings despite my best effort to brace for the blow, a thousand needles pricking every patch of skin. My hands still clutch onto your temples, sliding your face right into the canvas and further smearing it onto the floor, leaving as much of an angelic stain as I can. "Time to finish th- wait wha?" A follow-up submission hold would have been my next act, trying to roll over to lock my fingers under your chin, except mt roll only took me a few centimeters off the ground before rolling back. It didn't take long to realize you were slowly inching your way all over me! "G-get off me!" I squeaked as my hands shot down to try and repel your ascent, one hand clawing at the arms wrapped around my waist and hair while the other reached down to try pushing away at your makeup-strewn face, open palm against cheek, trying to push back on both fronts!

Mina Anderson

My head is spinning from the DDT, and a visage of my own face is staring back at me, plastered under the worn canvas in smudged makeup and flaked glitter. I'm acting on instinct more than any real plan or strategy. For a crowd used to practiced technicians and devastating warrioress showcasing their skills and ruthlessness, it's an almost farcical sightseeing me pulling on your hair and squirming my way up your body while the battle descends into a chaotic catfight. You claw at me and push against my face, hollowing my cheek as you turn my head and pucker my lips. That's when I see the big screen and the close-up of me straddling you, chest to chest and hip to hip. And I see my face staring back, lipstick all around my cheeks and chin, finger smudges smearing my blusher all over the place. I look like some prissy pink clown! That makes me recoil and lose all focus. My skin, where it peeks through all that messy warpaint, turns deep crimson with shame and embarrassment, and I just want the ring to swallow me whole. "My... my... Daisy... Look what you did to me!!!"

Daisy Fletcher

"You!?! Look at me?" I shrieked as my nails dug into the supple flesh of your cheeks, following your gaze to stare at the large screen showing my own disheveled state. My eyeliner now soaks down my face in dull streaks, like claw marks raking down the sides of my face. My lipstick covered a much larger surface area around my mouth as if I had cannibalized my own shadow. Still seated beneath your lithe body, I can feel the heat between our struggles radiating through my body as my hands slide down your face and around your waist, feeling the slick skin and settling in the crevices of your hips. "I SAID....GET OFF!" My wails echoed like a banshee as my claws dug into your skin, streaking across the tanned surfaces, leaving only red rows of fury and carnage as any attempt at finesse and technique flew out the window, pure survival being the only thing I was focused on now!

Mina Anderson

There we are, in 4K technicolor, an image of trashy chaos and smeared streaks. The cameraman shooting that feed's taking his sweet time panning up and down our interlocked, tightly pressed bodies while we jostle and pull for position. Eventually he comes back to our faces where my lips are puckered up, twisted and trembling as your nails press into my cheeks while I tighten my grip on your raven locks and keep on pulling. The other hand wanders down to your hip to help anchor my grinding, flushed body and keep my bronzed skin almost glued to your pale complexion. But the closeness does nothing to protect me and your hands are moving too. Your nails dig and rip against the flimsy lycra suit I'm wearing till you can rake and scratch across my skin. "aaaayynNNN you bitch!!" I hiss as I roll without bringing myself to realize you. You stumble onto me as I move sideways. Then you’re under me again. Then atop. We roll sideways across the ring till we slip under the bottom rope. I let out a gasp as I slip off the apron and peel away from you, finding the ground under my feet as my own momentum carries me into the guard rail and up close and personal with the fans...

Daisy Fletcher

The world seems to break free from its axis as we barrel roll our way out of the ring, hitting a vicious spin cycle that sends us flying in different directions as soon as we break free from the confines of the ring and into the greater arena. While you are sent to the edge of the pit, I find myself splatting against the cold concrete floor, face first with the grey pavement. My top dangles on one loose strap while the other is snapped in half. There are a few puncture holes in my bottom that give a speckled view of my rear end as I turn back towards the arena, crawling towards the flowing fabric underneath like a lifeline. My makeup is ruined, attire in near tatters, and pride in shambles, yet none of those are at the top of my mind as I manage to wrap my fingers just over the bend of the canvas into the ring, trying to find the last remnants of strength to just get me up and over into the ring, with the momentum of the match hopefully in tow.

Mina Anderson

Phone cameras click around me, a fan tapping my shoulder and urging me to keep going. It's all very embarrassing, but I've endured worse in this heady arena. Much worse when I turn and see you on all fours, with peep holes torn in those thrift store shorts and your top hanging off. I can't help but suck my bottom lip into a bite as I pivot and stalk toward you, slow and deliberate. I have to remind myself where I am, what kind of contest this is as I reach out. You’re pawing at the apron when I slide my arms under and trap your shoulders in a full nelson, then backstep, pulling you away from the ring and onto your feet with your arms locked outward at your sides. "hhmmm.. NO more messing around Daisy Cups." I coo into your ear, almost intimately. My back's arching enough to make you move with me and push your chest outwards, setting up a move I'm borrowing from Noah Ventura's playbook. "I gotta squash you". Suddenly I snap forward with all my weight, driving your chest first toward the ground in an in-case in-aptly named implant buster!

Daisy Fletcher

Managing to get to my feet, peering up at the massive screen just to see a massive, pink blob forming right behind me. "Wait...if she's rose there...and I'm there...then..." Suddenly my arms raise into an over-exaggerated wave, mimicking a scarecrow caught in a tornado before kicking furiously, being abducted from the safety of the ring. "H-hey! Put me down!" I shrieked, trying to duck my head forward and tossing it back for a headbutt, catching nothing but air before my body floats up into the air. My perky chest just goes outward while my belly curves and shimmers under the arena lights, coated in sweat from the war of attrition going on. "WAIT NOT LIKE-" My plea had fallen on deaf ears, but none of that would have mattered as the words also fell on the cold, hard floor of the arena. My face cracks against the ground, blasting my vision with another array of stars and birds as I just splatter against the ground, legs awkwardly caught on your thighs and arms outstretched against the ground as if trying to give the entire world one big hug!

Mina Anderson

I land straddled atop your body, cushioned from the cold slapping impact rippling through your body with my head draped over one of your shoulders so my hair mixes with yours in a blotchy puddle of bright pink and rich, inky darkness. "Yesssss Daisy Dukes... Just like... thisss". I hiss into your ear as I shift on you, letting my smooth, friction-soft bodysuit roll across your back as I shift and drag myself, my hips across your rear, and rise onto my knees. You feel my hand in your hair coiling around my palm so I can drag you up with me and onto your feet. You'll feel your shorts stretch and tighten as I feed a finger into one of the rips and take a snug grip on them. Then I turn and guide you like a puppet on my strings back onto the apron and roll under the bottom ring rope and onto the canvas. From there, I move to wrap this up. Skipping up the steps before scaling the turnbuckle to perch myself onto the top rope.

Daisy Fletcher

Trapped in a mind-numbing haze, my body acts to your accord as it rolls into the ring without a modicum of resistance, limbs dangling and feet dragging along the ground. "Gggguuuuhhh Meeeeennnaaa..." I groaned as I smeared against the ground and lay on the canvas. My makeup was smeared, giving me a ghoulish appearance while my wardrobe was going haywire beyond the most minor of malfunctions. The roar of the audience became nothing more than a dull buzz as I mustered the remnants of my strength into one final wind. One arm slowly raised to plant an open palm into the ground, fingers outstretched to anchor myself while the other hand slowly raised to follow suit. Knees shuffled under my battered body as I slowly staggered to my feet, mimicking the walking dead in both appearance and behavior. I managed a few shambles forward before almost tripping to the ground, catching myself on one knee with just enough strength to turn to face the floating pink blob in the corner of the ring!

Mina Anderson

My bodies littered in little aches and bruises, tension that slows my ascent up to the top corner. I've actually fought against my dear friend before today, and you've pushed me every step of the way; every time I thought I was on top, you flipped the script till I'm a clownish parody of myself with pink-hued makeup smeared in finger streaks across my face and around my mouth. We've fought, catfought, and show boated our way to this unsteady point. I'm swaying on the top rope, biting my lip as I watch you shamble and drop to your knee while your top struggles to stay on. It's time I go for the win or break myself trying. So, after a deep breath, I spring forward and flick my legs out, trying to straddle my thighs around your cheeks, plant my pelvis into your face, and drive the back of your head into the canvas under my weight!

Daisy Fletcher

The flame within flickers back to life, barely enough willpower to create the spark just to ignite it. Unfortunately, the small flame was easily snuffed out by your grand finale of a finishing move! The last thing I remember is the way your thighs clamped down on either side of my face, snapping around it like a bear trap with so much forward momentum; my body is launched backwards towards the ground. The back of my head slams against the canvas, juggling between a rock and a hard place or in this case, a set of iron hips and a rigid floorboard, as my brain rattles in my skull before coming to a standstill. The rest of my body follows suit, propelling down to the ground as my entire body is pancaked under your mass. My hair fans out against the canvas and my body is dotted and speckled with bruises and cuts, twitching slightly to ride out the last few electrical impulses my brain shoots out in a vain attempt to reboot my system. My only redeeming quality is the fact that my glossy, rolled-back eyes and crooked mouth are hidden under your glittery crotch, hiding my slammed-out lights from my roaring fans. Not even the strongest of wills could have saved me from the guillotine that put an end to my fight.

Mina Anderson

My hair whips like a brilliant streamer as I sail through the air, through the silence that comes with a collective gasp. It's as if that's holding me in the air as time slows down and for a moment, your glacial gaze meets with my smoldering sapphires. "*THUUUDDD!!** It happens in a heartbeat. My pelvis meets with your chin, and your head meets with the mat so hard the impact ripples up through me, catching my breath as I gasp into the glare of those brilliant overhead lights. When I look down and see your eyes glazed and staring into some unconscious abyss, I know the fight's over and my first win in NOIR's sealed, but this was never about winning and losing. It was about being there for a friend’s landmark and sharing it with you. So, I allow myself the little indulgence of cupping your cheek and brushing my thumb over the mess of caked makeup. "You fought well, Daisy". I coo, and I mean it; you've lost the fight but won over your share of fans. They're howling and hollering all around us, though how many will be willing to see you succeed, and how many will be waiting to see some of the other huntresses in the back get their claws into you? A little bite creases my smudged lip as I drape back across your body in an arch that stretches my body under those lights. Their warmth radiates through me as they light up the glitter-speckled spandex, sweat-dampened over every curve of my body. My weight shifted and anchored across into my hips, pinning your shoulders and neck while footsteps rippled across the boards. "One!" The Refs dropped beside us for the count. "TWO!". She slams her hand down again... I don't feel anything but your breathing under me. "THREE!" The bell rings, and I roll off you as my music erupts through the sound system as the spotlight turns to a brazen pink tint and follows me as I parade to each turnbuckle and salute the fans with raised arms. Soon it's time to clear out; back up the ramp with win under my bigger challenges, I know, waiting in the dreary corridors

Daisy Fletcher

Years seem to fly by as I slowly come to my senses, a throbbing pain piercing my skull in the back, slowly coaxing me back to consciousness as the dark silhouette of the referee loomed over me. It took a few steady hands from the medical team, now making their way to the ring to help me to my feet, splashing my face with a wet rag and making sure that I didn't suffer anything TOO serious. One of my cornermen took the rag and gently swished it around my cheeks and eyes, differentiating between any remaining cuts and bruises and messy makeup. Another held up a few ice packs that I reluctantly took, brushing them against my abs as I slowly rose to my feet, waving them off after dropping off the care package, as I wanted to make sure I left the ring on my own feet. I slowly slid out from between the ropes, hopping down to the ramp with my head hung low, but I still managed to look up and back at the crowd when I was halfway up the ramp, waving a triumphant fist in the air. Even if I lost, it was clear we achieved the pop needed to really make the match explode. The stat sheet may have recorded a loss, but I know this is only the start of me taking the big leagues by storm! With my head held high and chin up, I disappeared into the locker room, wondering where my future in the industry would take me...

To Be Continued...

Published: 2026-09-13, viewed 95 times.