Blood in the Water: Syd w/ Allie Parker vs. Gemma Faraday

The ref called for the bell, and the metallic sound of Gemma's salvation rang clearly through the arena. Syd sneered at Gemma with a mix of satisfaction and outrage, but she wasn't done.

"That's enough for her," she said, nodding at the ref. "I'm gonna need a little more."

In one smooth motion, she grabbed both of Gemma's ankles and pulled sharply back before stepping over her and tucking her legs under her arms in a textbook Boston crab. She pulled the Brit's hips up off the mat and spread her legs wide, and put all her weight into wrecking the girl's back, and her legs, and her spirit.

Once the bell rang, Allie squealed with delight and slipped into the ring, throwing her hands in the air like SHE had won the match. Well, with all her great advice, it was close enough. She ignored the boos. She didn't care. She might have even liked them. If they hated her, that meant they still couldn't look away. Besides, it wasn't like crummy 'ol Syd was going to want a piece of the crowd action.

Once Allie was finished basking in her own awesomeness, she turned and looked at Gemma locked in the crab.

"Hey!" She said as though Gemma would even looked at her. She poked the girl's boob with her foot and then gave it a hard, spiteful kick. "HEY!"

Allie knelt down and yanked at Gemma's braids and forced Gemma to look at her face to face. "Where's the snippy words now, you retarded bitch?" She growled. "Go and tell everyone you know that this is what happens to anyone that fucks with us."

Allie hopped up and kicked Gemma's tit again. "And fucking learn to speak American!"

"Aaaauuuuugggghhhhhhhhhh," Gemma moaned, as the sound of the ring bell sounded in her ears. She actually didn't stop tapping the mat, even after the bell sounded. It seemed as if the Brit wasn't even registering the bell. Completely on autopilot, her body continued to beg Syd for mercy, post-match. Syd hooked her ankles with no resistance, not even a dirty looked from the Brit as Syd sneered down, at her. The boston crab nearly folded Gemma in half, as she could only sob weakly in the hold. "Oh, God," she choked out, "please, stop ... By God, I'm begging you ..." It was humiliating enough to be dominated in front of the audience, but this was the first time an AFW crowd had seen Gemma's bare chest. This was something the Brit had been desperately hoping her career could avoid.

Gemma was utterly debased on the mat, powerless as she listened to the crowd either jeering Syd for brutalizing their favorite, or cheering her on as the busty young Brit had been stripped of half her clothes and left fumbling helplessly around in the ring. Honestly, neither was terribly helpful. Especially when Gemma saw Allie, simply reveling in Gemma's defeat. When Allie took hold of her braids, Gemma had no choice but to twist up to look at the orange-haired nuisance, and add pressure to Syd's expertly applied hold. Syd had completely defeated and humbled the Brit, at this point, but it seemed that the ridiculous little American wasn't going to let this moment go without getting her own jabs in.

Gemma was too weak to make an effort to cover herself now, no matter how badly she wanted to, so Allie's boot found a solid target in her exposed breast. The hold was drawing a long, loud moan from Gemma, but nothing compared to the shriek that came at the hard kick. Her body convulsing with sobs, Gemma was breaking down completely in Syd's hold. The Brit had been more than a little proud of her looks, before tonight, but now she wasn't so sure. Gemma had a cute face, but Syd had been chewing on her cheek and busting blood from her nose, all night. Gemma had long, powerful legs, but Syd had been breaking them down systematically, bit by bit. Gemma had even been rather proud of her impressive bustline, before Syd and Allie had taken turns stomping on her breasts, while the air raid siren lay helpless. And with her self-image, here, Gemma's will had also been broken. She had admitted Syd's superiority, after all. As much as it killed her, Gemma had even admitted Allie's superiority, by proxy. Was that the issue? Was that what they wanted to hear?

So, of course, Allie kicked her straight in the tit, again. "Aaaughh!" Gemma screamed, as Allie's foot pinched her soft, vulnerable breast against the mat once more. Gemma's hand flopped against the mat repeatedly, weaker and weaker each time. Despite the effectiveness of Syd's hold and the agony she put her through, it galled Gemma the most that her last conscious thoughts would be of Allie. The pain swelling in Gemma's bust grew stronger and stronger. Her tapping against the mat grew weaker and weaker, fainter and fainter. "You win, Syd ..." Gemma gasped, as she faded out again. "You win, Allie ... You're better ... please, you win ..." in moments, though Gemma was gone. Her tapping stopped against the mat, and the Brit was completely dead to the world.

Syd felt Gemma go limp in her arms, and offer no resistance against her Boston crab. She could do whatever she liked with her, but that sort of defeated the point. She could still have plenty of fun with her, but the ref was being an annoying little cunt again. She let the Brit flop down against the mat and shot a look at Allie while she stepped off of her.

She knelt down at Gemma's head and pulled her head up by a braid to show her vacant, unconscious face. She took a moment to admire it. She looked dead, and Syd killed her. It gave her a cold thrill, and she glanced at Allie again, this time with a slippery sneer on her lips. She leaned down and opened her mouth to lick Gemma's face, slowly dragging her tongue from the girl's jaw, up her cheek, to her eye. She greedily locked her lips over Gemma's in a careless, one-sided facsimile of a kiss, and then slammed her face back into the mat and stood up to receive the chorus of thunderous boos that came from all sides.

"Let's go," she said, as if it was her decision alone, and it was final. Without so much as a glance back at her "opponent". It wasn't a fair fight. That was part of the idea. People would see what she was capable of and what she was willing to do, and how little she cared about the stupid ideals and rules that other people seemed to love. She didn't care about anything, she just liked to hurt people, and before long people who didn't like that would come looking for her.

Allie watched as Syd inspected her victim. And then...

Allie curled her lip into a disgusted sneer. Syd was being gross and Allie knew she was just doing it but it FELT like she was just doing it specifically to piss Allie off.

She huffed when Syd decided on her own that it was time to go. She would have argued but she was pretty sure she was lucky Syd didn't turn on her.

She also wanted to pic up a mic but Gemma's unconscious body said enough. Allie put on a bright smile, puffed out her chest and marched proudly behind Syd.

Gemma lay still, as Syd squeezed the last bits of life, from her. The blonde Brit lay flat, spread-eagle, as Syd finally released her from that debillitating Boston Crab. Gemma's fans had gone silent, but there was still a steady roar from the crowd as Syd manipulated the Brit's limp body, yanking her up by the hair. The sight of Gemma's battered, unconscious face was rather grim. Lips spread in a perfect "o" shape, soft pink tongue poking out from between her teeth. There was no response from Gemma, as Syd's tongue slip up her fair cheek. When the red-eyed sadist planted a mocking kiss on Gemma's pouting lips, there was a rumble from the crowd that only served to highlight the steampunker's lack of response. When Syd finally released her, Gemma's head dropped hard to the canvas, the sound of her forehead against the mat drowned out by a steady chorus of boos as Syd and her manager took their leave of the ring. Behind them, they left the Brit, splayed out and utterly defeated, her unconscious body sprawled out in the center of the ring.

Eventually, after Syd and her manager made their way out of the arena, AFW medical staff would come out and escort Gemma from the ring. Firstly, they would tend to her wounds, to minimize the damage that Syd had done to the young woman's face still-bleeding face. They wrapped a small blanket over Gemma's chest, as various of members of the audience tried to sneak last-minute pics of her exposed breasts, shouldering the young woman to drag her backstage. Gemma had been more clearly and decisively beaten than she'd ever been, in her life. Not just once, tonight, but twice over. Over the course of the next few days, however, a new level of suffering would start, for the Brit. Gemma had suffered losses in the ring, before, but none as brutal as this. Already debating her future in professional wrestling, Gemma was going to have to be faced with reminders of this humiliation every time she fired up her computer, or tried to tune into an AFW broadcast. Until her scars and bruises healed, every glance in a mirror was going to carry a reminder of what Syd had put her through. Not to mention trying to own up to what the folks back home had seen from her, tonight. She'd been so bold, so cheeky, when she'd won her first match in the big leagues. She'd insisted everyone back home watch her every match, from here on out. What were the folks back in Blackpool thinking of the spunky hometown heroine, now?

Winner: Syd, via submission