Culture Clash: British Bombshells vs. The Hoots (Debut Match)

Gemma gasped a sigh of relief, as the pressure came off of her. The punky Brit remained in the corner, dropping flat onto her bum! Sitting there spread eagel, chest heaving as she gasped for breath, the platinum-blonde bombshell looked around in wide-eyed bewilderment. The match had gotten so out of hand, so far past her ability to control or even follow along with it! Head lazily rolling side to side, disheveled hair going out in almost all directions, Gemma looked from wrestler to wrestler to referee, too stunned to make sense of anything happening. All she knew for certain was that the crowd was going wild for the spectacle, that Holly looked well and truly screwed, and that there was nothing she could do about it!

Holly was doing everything she could to keep herself upright, but that was about all she could accomplish. Exhausted, doubled over, the buxom Bombshell was struggling not to come spilling out of her ring gear as she struggled to catch her breath. "Nnnhh, nnuh," Holly panted, eyes and mouth hanging wide open. Panicking, Holly's mind was racing as she struggled to think of some way out of this dire predicament. Some way she could still turn this match around. But, a quick glance at her red-faced and bewildered partner told her that she was on her own. "Nooo," Holly gasped, "this can't be happening ..."

But it was. Holly squirmed as Cait and Haru wrapped her up in their arms. Holly could only offer token resistance, as they sandwiched the soft Bombshell's body between them. "R-release me!" she demanded, voice quivering as the Hoots marched her to the other side of the ring in their grip. Unfortunately, the Brit's protests were drowned out by the rampant cheers of the crowd, as Cait and Haru hoisted her onto display!

Holly squirmed and writhed in their grip, with the unfortunate side-effect of making her curvy figure jiggle and bounce against her ring gear. Holly could feel her ample chest brushing and rubbing against the Hoots' own generous bosoms, her thighs grinding against theirs as she failed to pry herself free. With every brush and bump, the Brit's body quivered, and she flushed a deeper and deeper shade of red.

When the crowd erupted in thunderous applause for the Bombshell's bouncing-yet-bound figure, that blush went deeper than it ever had in her life. Holly bowed her head, trying to bury her face in her own bosom to avoid being put on the spot. "How is it they never cheer my wrestling, like this!?" she whined, shaking her head in futile protest.

Before Holly knew it, however, the public display was coming to a quick and decisive finish! "Wh-what? Intro-?" Holly's questions were cut short, as the Hoots brought her crashing down to the mat with a perfectly tandem side Russian leg sweep! Holly's skull bounced off the mat hard, just before her body was folded over in a matchbook pin. Holly's legs folded over her body, helping the intertwined Hoots hold her against the mat, the Bombshell was left helpless. Worse, with her ring gear still in a horrible wedgie, Holly's bare bum was put on ample display one more time, right at her moment of defeat!

"TWO!"

After that blow, Holly had no strength to struggle. Her hands waved uselessly, her feet wiggled, but the Hoots had the pinfall locked in tight. All Holly accomplished with her desperate, yet futile, kick-out attempt was to make her curvaceous bottom jiggle and bounce one final time for the fans, as her fate was sealed.

"THREE!"

With each Hoot hooking one of Holly's legs and leveraging themselves entirely into the matchbook pin attempt, the posh Brit wasn't exactly granted much wiggle room to squirm her way free. Both of the Hoots extended their toned legs and simultaneously corralling Holly over herself and giving the audience yet another crowd pleasing eyeful of her thonged rump in the process. Cheers and whistles abounded from Holly's growing fanbase appreciating the bare bummed display, the posh Brit gaining more fans in ways she may not have exactly intended...

"THREE!!"

Both Hoots nodded along with each pin count until the deciding slap against the canvas signaled the end of the match, the bubbly tag team uncoiling their arms around Holly's legs and rising back to their feet to their catchy theme blaring from the speakers. Offering eachother a congratulatory hug over their first Friction win before easing back to place an arm around eachother's shoulders. The busty waitresses striking one of their practiced calendar poses with a hand on their hips and one of their legs slightly bent at the knee. Getting that first win made them smile that much brighter, and helped masked just how drained they were from keeping up that offensive tempo for so long.

"...*phew*...I think we'll need to adjust our training schedule if matches can get this exhausting in the blink of an eye..." Cait muttered with a weary smile towards Haru, the both of them having worked up quite the sweat despite never having been on the receiving end of too much damage this time around.

"Aw, come on...*pant*...it's our first win and you're already talking about putting in more work. I say we kick back and let our freak flag fly!! Besides, one of these gals has a bet she better not welsh on!!" Haru enthusiastically exclaimed before strutting over to the still cornered Gemma. The adrenaline from winning their first match making her exceedingly chipper as she bent down to offer Gemma a helping hand back up to her feet. "I know it wasn't as much fun for you as it was for us, but whaddya see we all walk away as buddies? That way we can all feel like we won something today!!"

"Up ya go..." Cait would stay right where she was before bending to offer Holly the same gesture after she had uncurled herself and finally unwedgied her bottom, heaving the posh Brit back upwards in one deft tug and slotting her neck under Holly's arm to help keep her vertical. "Hope we proved ourselves as more than just some kinky waitresses out to shill our product...but I guess we can talk all about that and more when we get you into that Hooters uniform and watch you chow down to some of that sauce-slathered, deep-fried food~..." Cait cheerfully said with a bright smile, tossing Holly's own words right back at her as she reminded Holly that her night wasn't over quite yet...

Holly let out a loub sob, when she heard that third and final count. Folded over, legs tucked up over her face, body pinned firmly to the mat, Holly hoped no one could see how red-faced and humiliated she felt. The big and exciting debut of the British Bombshells ended with her on her back, bare ass cheeks wiggling in the air for the entire crowd to leer at, as she was dominated by the two waitresses she'd thought so little of.

Gemma, meanwhile, could only watch helplessly from the sidelines. Her eyes had widened in horror, seeing her partner getting pinned to the mat with no chance of escape. Gemma was forced to simply watch her team lose their debut, too stunned from being squashed under two soft, curvy bodies to be of any help. The Brit shook her head in disbelief, knowing all too well that she had just as much culpability in this defeat as her pinned partner. "D-dammit," she sighed, once it was all finally, completely over.

Mercifully, the Hoots let Holly go pretty quickly, once they had the win. The Brit let her legs fall to the mat, and stared up at the ceiling lights. Still groggy from the force of Cait and Haru's combined side-Russian leg sweep, Holly nonetheless had the energy to throw a tiny tantrum on the mat. "Nooo~" Holly whined, pounding the ground weakly with her fists, kicking her feet slightly. All she really only managed, though, was to make her curvy body jiggle on the ground and highlight how weak she was, at the moment. Sighing, Holly realized that was one last bit of dignity, gone for the night. She covered her face in her hands, and wondered if shame could induce spontaneous human combusion. Was that a thing that was possible? Hopefully?

Meanwhile, the Hoots were celebrating over Holly's semi-conscious body, and things were about to get even worse. Head still swimming after being bounced off the mat, Holly had momentarily forgotten Gemma's cocky bet, earlier in the match. Which the two victors were more than keen to remind her of.

Gemma groaned, as she let Haru pull her up from the turnbuckle. She couldn't help but blush, thighs rubbing close together subconsciously, remembering how Haru had treated her earlier in the match. Holly, meanwhile, let out a loud sigh as Cait peeled her off the mat. Holly was grateful, at least, that Cait was helping to keep the Brit from falling right back down to the mat. She was less grateful, however, when Cait gleefully reminded her that in addition to the match, the British Bombshells had also lost their bet!

"I blame you for this!" Holly glared at Gemma.

Gemma shook her head. "I-I didn't expect you to get your bum kicked, like you did! I thought it would be motivation!"

"I got my- Rrrh! Unbelievable!" Holly pouted. "But ... a bet's a bet. I'm not going to be a loser and a coward, on the same night ..."

Gemma sighed, letting her head droop low. "It is kinda my fault," she sighed, "so, yeah, sign me up for a plate of neon orange faux-chicken and a top two sizes too small ..."

"I-I suppose nobody has to know, right?" Holly asked, hopefully.

"I'm already calling your boyfriend, and getting the camera out of my locker," Gemma said.

"You witch!" Holly hissed.

"You shouldn't have gotten pinned!" Gemma looked over to their two peppy, perky and promotionally-minded conquerors, for the evening. "Besides ... how bad for you can it really be? You two seem to love it, and- as much as it kills me to admit it- the Hoots kicked our asses. At least we have dinner settled on ..."

Being caught between the bickering Bombshells was starting to become a tad awkward, both Hoots darting their eyes from Holly to Gemma as they aired their little spat right there in the middle of the ring. They certainly hoped that one loss for their debut match wasn't already enough to cause the breakup of the British tag team. Though those worries were alleviated when they realized that the Bombshells' arguing was really just their own "unique" way of interacting with eachother and showing that they cared for one another as close friends...at least that was what the Hoots hoped.

"Alright, that's the spirit!! Gotta win as a team and lose as a team!! That's one of the things our coach Masumi always says when she isn't barkin orders at us!!" Haru chipperly said with a beaming smile when it looked like the Brits were all on board for their Hooters makeover. One of Haru's hands would shift down from Gema's shoulder down to her curvy rump, sneaking into her back pocket and giving her a teasing squeeze as well. "Just between us, I was gonna force ya ta take part in the Hooters dress-up right along with your partner. I wasn't kiddin when I said you'd look slammin in some Hooters hot pants..." Haru sensually whispered before nuzzling her own blushing cheek against Gemma's. The match may have been over, but Haru still couldn't help but cozy up to the sweaty, warm and increasingly cute Brit the more she hung out with her...

"...*giggle*...Owning up to your word shows shows alot of character and class, Holly. Thanks for giving Hooters a chance....buuut just in case~..." Cait would slyly apply a firm and exceptionally pressured headlock on the posh Brit, cinching it in tightly to deter any last minute mind changes or the desire to make a run for it. The side of Holly's head rubbing intently against the side of Cait's sumptous bosom as the grey-haired Hoot would begin marching out of the ring and back up the ramp with her wriggling captive in tow. "Trust me, the food's better than you think. We're starting up a new hot wing recipe you can try out for us. And don't worry, no one besides us is gonna see you dress up as a Hooters gal...except the whole restaurant, which is always kinda jam-packed on nights with wrestling tapings. Oh, and usually the stuff we do there gets uploaded to our official Hoots Facebook page and Twitter account too...Oh, and we could maybe use it for our calendar... Caitlyn would peter off as she raised an index finger to her cheek, pondering to herself and currently lost thought in trying to remember the myriad of ways this was going to be spread the world over...

Even with the match over, Holly's humiliation was far from complete. She still had a full night ahead of her, with short-shorts and neon orange chicken wings to look forwad to. Bickering with Gemma was only serving to distract her from that fact. Holly let out a long sigh, as Gemma patted her reassuringly on the head. "At least you won't be going through it alone, eh?" Gemma said, drawing both an eye-roll and a smile, from her forlorn partner.

"EEP!" Gemma let out a squeal, as Haru's fingers clamped around her firm bum and gave it a squeeze. Gemma's face flushed red, and she pretended not to have thought much of the sneaky hand, copping a feel. "W-well," she said, with a weak giggle, "can't let the little princess hog all the fun, now can I? Besides, you two clearly rock the look ... I just might have to see what I can do for it, with a few extra straps and some buttons, eh?" The steampunk girl's blush deepened, as Haru nuzzled against her cheek and walked the Brit out of the ring. Gemma let out a long sigh of her own, trying to act a bit more exasperated and put out than she really felt. As far as post-match encounters go, this was far from her most miserable.

Holly, meanwhile, felt a bit differently. When Cait quickly tucked her into the side headlock, there wasn't much Holly could do about it, but to flail her arms uselessly. "Ooh!" Holly groaned, her head sinking deep into Cait's warm, pillowy bosom. In truth, the Brit had no plans to try and escape. At this point, she wasn't sure that her body (let alone her dignity) could survive another brawl with the perky waitresses. Still, Holly's half-hearted squirming and struggling gave the fans in attendance one last view of her jiggling, bouncing backside, perhaps further enticing any that might still be on the fence about hitting up the chain resteraunt, after leaving the arena.

Holly looked more and more crestfallen, as her captor paraded her out of the ring. Cait looked so casual, as she listed off all the ways that the British Bombshell's upcoming embarrassment was going to be distributed and disseminated among the masses. Holly, meanwhile, was a disheveled and struggling mess. Still, maybe it wouldn't be all bad. "Wait, calendars?" she asked, after a moment. "So ... those come with royalties, right?" After all, losers weren't paid as much as winners, and there was no sense in leaving money on the table, right? Holly was still dreading the thought of squeezing her buxom frame into that too-tight uniform for a legion of gawkers (apparently the world over, no less), on a night that was going to stick with her for far too long. It was a more humiliating ending to their big debut match than the British Bombshells could have anticipated ... Still, at least there was some form of silver lining!

WINNERS: The Hoots, with the Perfect Bounce!