Dixie Clemets vs. PHDoom! ~Tables Match!~

Doom was in the corner, and Dixie couldn't be happier. She was right where the Texan wanted her. At that moment, in Dixie's mind, there was no where else she would have wanted Doom. It was time for her to get a close, personal reminder of the cowgirl's strength and size.

With a loud 'whoop!' escaping her lips, Dixie suddenly went charging across the ring towards her bitter opponent. Like an angry bull, she charged forward at full speed. As she neared Doom, she jumped a few inches off of the mat, trying to slam into the punkish woman with a full body splash, trying to squash her between her own body and the turnbuckle!

Dixie's loud "whoop" seemed to wake Doom up, a bit, her eyes widening as she watched the cowgirl charge. "D-damnit!" Doom barely had time to get the word out, before Dixie's body came crashing down onto her.

In a flash of blonde and curves, Dixie's body splashed into Doom. The ropes shook and rocked as Doom's lean, muscular frame was smashed against the turnbuckle. Doom was rocked, head shaking. With a grimace of pain, the brawler shouldered her way past Dixie and out of the corner, only to fall face-down into the mat.

Doom's boot pounded against the mat, as her arms hugged her aching body. Doom's revenge was not going to plan, thus far. Cursing silently, the brawler's mind raced as she tried to push back her rage, and actually start thinking of ways to turn this match around.

Doom dropped to the mat, and Dixie found herself grinning widely at the sight. She had shut the brawler up and had taken her down, and everything seemed to be going just as she wanted it to go. All she had to do now was capitalize on things, and she didn't think that would be too hard to do. Her reckless charged had seemed to do a real number on Doom, so Dixie figured she had plenty of time to set her up for something a bit more punishing.

She stepped forward, stepping with one foot over Doom's body, turned to face her legs in the process. She leaned down, one hand going to grab each one, trying to lift them up into the air and bend them back, so that she could tuck them under her own arms. Dixie was trying to work Doom into a full Boston crab, and if she could pull her legs into the hold, she would lean back, trying to stretch and bend the brunette backwards with the simple hold.

For a long, dizzying moment, Doom's entire world was a frustrating blur of lights and sound. Impossible to orient herself and try to get right, Doom's only input from the real world was the feeling of strong hands, clasping down on her legs. Doom could feel herself getting bent over and pulled around, her lean body being twisted into some unnatural, awkward position ...

And then, the pain of Dixie's boston crab snapped the brawler back to reality! "D-damn!" Doom exclaimed, as the pain radiating through her entire spine began to wake her up. "Damn yooouu!" Doom's toned figure was getting stretched into a perfect "C" shape by Dixie's expert technique, leaving the loudmouthed brawled trapped underneath the cowgirl. "D-dammnnn ..." Doom growled, as her fingertips dug hard into the mat.

As beads of sweat began to form on Doom's brow, matting her hair and trickling down her nose, the young woman forced herself to open her eyes. She could feel Dixie's buxom bottom pressing into her lower back, laying on the pressure. Doom forced herself upward against that, until she could perch herself on her elbows. The hold was agonizing, but she hoped a higher position could give her the ground she needed as she flexed and pushed her legs outward. With all of her might, Doom pushed against Dixie's hold, trying to lift her center of balance, and force the cowgirl out of her seated position.

Dixie leaned back, keeping her hold tight, grinning at the chorus of Doom's 'damns.' She had the thuggish woman right where she wanted her, and she didn't plan on letting go until she had sapped every bit of strength out of the brute. She squatted down further, shoving her barely-covered bottom harder into Doom's back, keeping her bent in that perfect "C" shape. As far as Dixie was concerned, the match was decided right here. There was no way Doom was going to escape, right?

Or at least, that's what Dixie thought, before Doom began to push herself up, propping herself up onto her elbows. Dixie cursed under her breath, turning her head back to look at her foe, thinking herself to be quite silly at that moment for forgetting just how strong and resilient Doom really was. She could feel her hold starting to loosen, just little, as Doom pushed back against her, fighting the crab with everything she had.

Thinking quickly, Dixie decided to change her plan of attack. She released one of Doom's legs, and wrapped both of her arms around the other, cranking it back as hard as she could, trying to work Doom into a single-legged Boston crab instead, hoping she would be able to keep the woman under better control that way.

"Grrrrraaahhhhhhhd-DAMN IT!" Doom wailed, as beads of sweat dripped down the bridge of her nose and fell to the mat. She could feel Dixie's body on top of her, keeping her under control. Dixie's shapely bottom grinding against Doom's back, adding to the utter humiliation of Doom's entrapment. It all feuled the fire that drove Doom to resist, however, her fist pounding against the mat as she tried to focus on her hate over the pain.

Encouragingly, she could feel the cowgirl starting to falter, in her hold. Doom pushed up harder, flexed her legs to try and pry the cowgirl off of her. "Hhhnngh," Doom moaned, exhaling as she felt Dixie forced to drop her leg. Still, the cowgirl had a firm hold on her other leg- firmer, as she shifted both hands to keep Doom locked down.

"How- rrgh! How dare you!" Doom howled, in her usual melodramatics. Doom shifted her weight down, trying to roll over. She felt her hip dig between Dixie's thighs, as she tried to roll out from under the crab. Dixie was putting her through hell, and it was taking so much of Doom's strength to hold out. Flailing out, Doom tried to roll out of the hold, or at least get herself far enough to catch the ropes and force a break. Anything, to try and get herself out of this infuriatingly frustrating predicament!

Dixie leaned back, her grip tight on Doom's leg, cranking back on it as hard as she could. If she could just do enough damage to Doom now, if she could just disable the villain right here, it would be smooth sailing for the rest of the match. She closed her eyes, the cowgirl focusing, trying to maintain the hold despite Doom's struggling, and if the woman's cries were anything to go by, the submission was doing it's job quite well.

At least, Dixie thought as much, before Doom suddenly twisted to the side, trying to shift her weight over. Dixie could feel her grip loosening again, and as she tried to readjust it she could feel the brunette flailing about again, trying to roll even further to the side and towards the ropes. The blonde scowled, and decided to release the hold completely. It wouldn't be worth trying to fight Doom to lock it back in, but Dixie wasn't worried. She was in full control of things. She had this, and she had Doom.

She dropped her leg and stepped away from Doom, turning to face her again. "Come on!" She yelled, gesturing with one hand at foe. "Get the hell back up, girl!"

Doom scambled to the ropes, as soon as Dixie released the hold. Scowling and cursing heavily, Doom was flushed a deep crimson, with rage. Her leg was screaming at her, the buxom cowgirl having worked it over with more professional precision than Doom would ever had admitted. Clutching the ropes to pull herself up, Doom put her weight on her good leg, trying to choke back her rage. She'd waited for this moment far too long, to let the cowgirl humiliate her again ...

Doom bit her lip, as she glared at Dixie over her shoulder. She tried to remember if the cowgirl had always been so damnably strong? Not that Doom was in danger of tapping out just now, at least that's what she kept insisting to herself. Which wouldn't have made a difference in a tables match, of course ... Which got the wheels in Doom's head spinning.

When Dixie coaxed her away from the ropes, Doom complied. Keeping low, the brawler stumbled forward a bit, looking a bit weak ... right up until the moment she lunged forward, swinging a hard uppercut, right between Dixie's legs. A "cheap move," according to some. "Cowardly tactics," according to others. All of them losers, in Doom's eyes. As she swung her forearm between Dixie's strong thighs with all the strength she could muster, Doom could only think of how those "others" were beneath her, lacking the will to win ...

If there was one attack that Dixie hated more than any other, one move that always, always pissed her off, it was the low blow. It was a cheap, cowardly tactic, and every time that Dixie had been a victim to the attack (which had been more times then she wanted to admit in her career), the end result was always the cowgirl getting pissed off and angry about it.

At least, she always got angry after the initial attack, anyway.

When Doom's low blow hit home, Dixie went down, and she went down hard. She dropped to her knees, grasping at her crotch, then a moment later she fell forward, landing on the canvas. Her eyes were wide and her most private area was hurting, but all she could do for now was gasp for breath, staring forward with a shocked look on her face as she held herself between her legs.

The crowd's voices rose in a wave of disappointment, as they saw Doom plant her strike right between the cowgirl's legs.  Doom looked around the arena, sneering.  Surely, she thought, these fools couldn't be that surprised.  Really, she thought it would have been a welcome callback.  Even these plebians had to remember how Dixie's initial encounter with the PHDoom had ended, wouldn't they?

Getting up to a knee, Doom looked down at Dixie.  She relished the look of suffering on the cowgirl's face, taking in her suffering.   Oh, how she'd been waiting to see that look!  It wasn't enough, though, not yet.  Not until she saw tears in those wide blue eyes.  The anticipation of it was enough to almost make Doom forget the aches and bruises that Dixie had been inflicting on her own body, thus far.  Getting upright, the brawler took a moment to collect herself, then walked over Dixie.

Planting her boots wide on either side of Dixie's torso, Doom bent at the waist.  Reaching down, Doom took a fistful of the Texan's blonde locks, and pulled her head up.

"Is the busty cowgirl going to cry," Doom asked, with an almost audible sneer. "Well? Tears of a land-cow? Cry, cowgirl! Cry for Doom!" With her free hand, Doom began delivering stiff slaps to Dixie's face, harder and harder, until her own palm began to redden. Then, Doom would shove Dixie's head into the mat, and walk away for a moment to compose herself, and listen to the angry jeers of the crowded arena.