Liberty vs Aisha

Liberty could feel the hot air of Aisha's angry, laboured breaths against her breasts, as the dancer's face was engulfed and smothered by Liberty's pale, bare cleavage.

"Suck on that, bitch!" the former champ taunted. "Let's see whose ass gets knocked out now, huh?" she crowed as she hugged Aisha's head tight against her body.

The crowd noise intensified, lots of whistles and catcalls; just like the spanking, this was fanservice for a lot of the audience. This actually irked Liberty a little bit - she wanted a fight, not foreplay. However, her hardcore image probably wouldn't suffer too much, provided that the smother worked... and from the feel of Aisha's struggles, it was definitely having an effect, robbing the hapless dancer of air.

The kicks and flailing arms of her victim became more intense, and harder to contain. Liberty knew that, even though she had control, being flat on her back was hardly the best position to be in, if Aisha were to escape. So, the black-haired woman decided to change things up. Grimacing through a particularly fierce barrage of Aisha's punches, she hugged her opponent's head and shoulders extra hard, then would try to rock their entwined bodies from side to side, aiming to roll over completely and end up on top of Aisha.

This couldn't get any worse. Aisha was sure of it.

Getting smothered in Liberty's twin zeppelins would've been bad enough all by itself, but the entire combined situation made everything all the more unnerving. Her head wasn't so far engulfed in tits that she couldn't hear the crowd's lecherous cries, as they got off her suffering and the sensual situation - Aisha could feel the momentum she'd built up with her strong start against Tiffany drifting away. This was simply not where she wanted to be.

She hammered down even harder with her blows, giving Liberty everything she had, but then the former hardcore champ had to go and prove her wrong about it not getting any worse - it did. Exponentially. Aisha let out a muffled shriek as she found herself on her back. Stuck. Smothered. Unable to even think about pushing Liberty's bulk off. All she could was kick her legs and flail her arms, hoping against hope that she might score a lucky strike.

It didn't happen. And the more Aisha struggled, the weaker her struggles become. Air was running low, energy was falling, and she started to fade....fade...fade...

A grunt of effort, a thud, and Liberty bumped down on top of Aisha, her weight pressing against her poor smothered victim, bare breasts pushing even harder into the dancer's face. Gravity making it all the easier for Liberty to starve her opponent of oxygen, burying her in cleavage.

"Ha, having fun down there?" Liberty quipped, fighting back against Aisha's struggles, noting them getting weaker and weaker. Having recently been choked herself, she knew how gruelling and horrible that would be. A few more moments laying on her front, and something else struck the impulsive black-haired woman too. "This is kinda boring..." she mused. "No way to end a hardcore match at all. Must be some better way I can fuck you up..."

Still laying on her front, keeping up the breast smother to the delight of everyone bar Aisha, Liberty's big grey eyes scanned the ring with interest. For the first time she could really take her 'hardcore hentai' options in.

"Hmm... whips... paddles... or would that just be copying you, Aisha?" Liberty said thoughtfully. "Enough sex toys to fill most of your holes, too..."

Liberty chuckled to herself as she teased her victim, but that last part was just in jest. It wasn't really her style, and besides, something else had caught her interest. The powerful punk pushed up, peeling her sweaty breasts out of Aisha's face, but immediately firing down a heavy fist against the floored woman's temple, in case she got any ideas about fighting back.

Liberty found her feet and began to drag the breathless Aisha toward the turnbuckle. On the way, she scooped up a pair of steel handcuffs. If she could strap her stunned opponent's wrists together behind the corner post, it would be all over for Aisha.

...fade...

Aisha was quickly going down the drain, and her thoughts were become a muddled mess. Mostly thoughts of hate, the things she would do to Liberty if she could just get out from under her bulk. Recounting the mistakes she'd made, including taking this match in the first place. Liberty was a beast, and she hadn't been properly prepared. Next time she would be ready. Next time-

All of the sudden she could breath again, but she wasn't allowed to enjoy it. Liberty's punch ensured that when it crash into the middle of her face, knocking out what little sense the Diva had left. She wasn't completely out of it, but she might as well have been. Couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Sure as hell couldn't fight. She was only dimly aware of being dragged along the canvas, and she felt something cold click around her wrist, but she wasn't able to do a damn thing about it

After a moment, she started to get her bearings back, and started to sit up...only to find out she couldn't. At all. She blinked and pulled at her arms, but only got a metallic clanging in response. She couldn't move her arms. Why couldn't she move her arms?

"What...?" She looked up at the handcuffs, then back at Liberty with widened eyes, knowing whatever was about to happen would suck for her. "What the fuck?!"

Whistles and cries of encouragement came from the crowd as Liberty dragged her dazed opponent across the ring, like some primitive hauling a woman back to a cave. Only this thug had handcuffs, too. Liberty's heart was racing as she knew she was on the edge of sealing this match. She chuckled with satisfaction and no little relief as the steel restraints clicked shut around Aisha's wrists.

"Gotcha..." she leered, stepping back for a second to admire her work. Hands on hips, she grinned as the blonde came to, only to find that her arms were trapped behind the middle rope and she was stuck in a seated position.

"Ahahaaa!! The look on your face! This is priceless!! Here, let me clarify..."

Liberty stepped forwards and delivered a quick hard kick to Aisha's stomach.

"You're fucked, honey. That's what's happened," Liberty smiled as she demonstrated her dominance. The big punk was feeling pretty good now. She held all the cards, and could do anything she damn well pleased. Hell, she could even indulge one of her nastiest habits... monologue.

"Pretty fitting, isn't it, Aisha? You come in here acting like a stripper, rather than a wrestler, and you end up tied to a pole, literally," she gloated, and gave her captive another kick. Brutal and unfair, it earned a couple of boos from the Aisha fans, but the look in Liberty's eyes was one that no-one was going to interfere with.

"Oh, sorry for the lack of solidarity, Sistah!" Liberty gave in mock apology, voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I think you need to learn, this is a bad place to be selling dance videos or whatever...."

There was an aerosol can on the adjacent apron. Liberty sauntered over to collect it, removing the lid and shaking the contents with mishcheivous intent.

"See, some of these AFW types were thoughtful enough to leave out some of my favorite green spraypaint. So while your famous diva face was busy in makeup, at least one of the suits was thinking it would be funny if I did... this..."

Liberty stepped forwards and jammed the nozzle down on the can, pitilessly spraying paint straight into her victim's features!!

Oh, goddamnit, here it came. Aisha groaned when she realized what was about to happen: Liberty was about to cut a promo in the middle of the fucking match. Then she groaned for real, when the bitch stomped her in the stomach. "Cunt!" She spat out as her body jerked on the floor.

By the time she'd started to get her breath back, Liberty just drove it out again with another brutal stomp, hammering her hard into the mat. Fucking bitch!" Aisha growled and thrashed around in her bonds, as if she were trying to find some give that would never be there. She actually did know how to pick a handcuff lock, but without something to do the deed with, that knowledge wasn't helping her. She was fucked. Maybe literally, since this was the AFW.

"Fuck you..." She replied when her breath came back enough for her to speak clear sentences. "After I beat your big ass, record sales'll go right up. Believe that shit. And..."

Her voice tappered off as she caught as glance at what Liberty was holding. Aisha was no stranger to a spray can - she'd done a little tagging in her wilder days - and she was savvy enough to know what was coming. "Don't you fucking dare, don't you fucking dare-"

Aisha closed her eyes and mouth shut as Liberty sprayed all over her face, covering everything from her chest up in a green mist. She had to fight the urge to scream and let any of the stuff in her mouth. All she could do was kick around like a wild animal, turning her from side to side in a failed effort to avoid it.

The crowd, of course, went wild.

One or two of the crowd might have been surprised at Liberty's harsh treatment of her captive, but the woman herself considered it fair game. Watching the beautifully made-up blonde have her glossy good looks utterly ruined by the generous spraying of green paint all across her face... oh, it was perfect. Such a sight, and statement of intent. Poor Aisha's side-to-side squirming simply meant that even more of her head and hair got gunked up by the aerosol spray. Cameras flashed across the crowd as they lapped up this extremely visual, and extremely cruel, attack.

Liberty liked to think she was making some kind of point about her opponent's vanity... maybe... although in reality, it was simply very, very funny to watch Aisha become a mortified green mess. Liberty's cackles could even be heard above the raucous fans.

"Yeah, don't fucking tell me what to do, because I dare, alright," she smirked, finally tossing the can aside after unloading quite heavily into Aisha's features.

"You got the message yet, princess? Chasing the stripper dollar not seeming so peachy now? Or do I need to drive it home?" Liberty had a wicked glint in her eye now. "Maybe with that big ass of mine?"

A final cocky smirk at her bound, green-splattered victim, and Liberty turned around. She lifted her short leather skirt, and bent forwards a little, revealing her white panties. With more than a little ceremony, she peeled the underwear down a little, freeing up her fleshy round buttocks.

"It's not that big, is it?" Liberty quipped, patting her rear to make sure she had everyone's attention. "You bitch, you'll give me body image issues, you know!"

Gripping the top rope for balance, the black-haired woman thrust her hips back, smashing her ass into Aisha's face for a classic stinkface maneuver. Made toxic by the spraypaint, Liberty was set on giving her handcuffed victim the full 'Skunkface' treatment. This wasn't going to be pretty!

Aisha very, very much wanted to reply to Liberty and say all sorts of things back at the dominating champion, tell her exactly how she felt about her little speech and the sudden high-and-mighty attitude she was taking on. She had a load of jokes to make about the big woman's outfit, her hair, her figure...the whole package.

But she couldn't. Speaking would've required her to open her mouth, and some of the pain would've leaked in. The smell was bad enough for her nose, as she was forced to inhale the noxious fumes, and she was just barely keeping her eyes shut enought to protect them. She couldn't see a thing Liberty was doing.

But she could hear, and what she heard pissed her off to no end. She growled through her closed mouth, making sure her rage was heard loud and clear. Maybe she was going to go out, but she wasn't going to quietly.

Her growls of rage turned to a noise of confusion when she heard the familiar slap of meaty ass, coming alarmingly close to her head. Even though her eyes weren't open, she could sense a shadow coming over her, and the gears started to turn. She had a bad feeling about what was going to happen, and when the heavy weight slammed in her face, she let out a scream of pure indignition, one that was quickly muffled by Liberty's oppressive body. The horrid realization ran through her mind like a knife: she was about to get knocked out by a stinkface. The ultimate humiliation.

She kicked her legs in a furious but futile fit, vainly trying to hit Liberty with a lucky shot. At the same time she focused on turning her head to the side and getting free, hoping for a single whiff of fresh air with her nose...not much, and she might've been delaying the inevitable, but there was no way she'd just lay back and accept this.

Aisha's scream was soon cut short, but the crowd noise did not let up as they watched Liberty go for the cruel humiliation move, which was hardly surprising. They'd loved watching the blonde getting a face full of spraypaint, so the sight of Aisha having it thoroughly rubbed in beneath Liberty's big bare ass had them in raptures.

Dignified, it wasn't. Liberty could feel her opponent's slimy, paint-splattered face push right up against her rear. Aisha was squirming and trying to escape from the stinging, slippery smother, but Liberty wasn't having any of that. The big black-haired girl thrust her hips back hard, firmly pinning Aisha's head against the turnbuckle, squashing her nose and mouth in between her ass cheeks.

Liberty's luscious pale rear was getting liberally smeared with green, but she clearly didn't give a damn.

"This is for tearing my top, you blonde bimbo bitch!!" Liberty crowed as she leaned back, putting extra effort into the slimy stinkface. Aisha was getting no mercy here, and was going down in supremely horrible fashion!

Aisha was no stranger to humiliation - she'd participated in quite a few matches that revolved around it in her time with the Rumble Roses. Any match with Anesthesia seemed to be one by default, and the other women often dabbled. Even though that had been years ago, you would think that she'd be able to weather the storm Liberty was raining down on her with the heinous stinkface.

But you'd be wrong. This was an entirely new level, far beyond anything she'd seen with the company. Even though Aisha couldn't see, the whole situation was utterly mortifying. She could hear the crowd laughing it all up, and knew that the arena was probably filling up with camera flashes. She was all over social media, and there would be much tweeting from her phone when this was over.

And it would be over soon, too. Aisha was rapidly running out of air. Every effort she made to get a fresh breath was thwarted, as Liberty's oppressive ass pushed down even harder. There was nowhere to go, no way to escape, and she wasted precious energy in the effort. Just like with the breast smother, she was starting to get weaker and weaker, becoming more still with each passing moment, until...

The referee, who'd been a ghost the entire match, finally had something to do. She moved in, looking over Aisha's motionless body. She was out, no question about it, and the bell was quickly called before she could suffer some serious injury.