Clyde Gastin Vs. Gwendolyn DuPont Bettencourt

Whereas beforehand Gwendolyn couldn't fathom the reasoning as to why the scruffy-haired Texan was such a frequently challenged Tension mainstay, Gwendolyn was perhaps now seeing the genuine appeal of locking horns with the infamous Clyde T. Gastin. Having the uncouth ranchhand follow her around while like a lovesick mongrel practically brought goosebumps to her perfectly sublime skin. And it was that  very same sensation Gwendolyn was becoming quite intoxicated with as she brought the entranced Texan to one corner ringpost before quite literally putting the squeeze on him.

"Ah, latter option it is than~..." Gwen pridefully taunted from on high, the heiress now perched high atop the corner turnbuckle which she gleefully fantasized was a lavishly resplendent golden throne. Her civilized mannerisms and refined way of enunciating masking the overwhelming strength Gwendolyn had hidden behind her toned, supple thighs. A fact that Clyde was perhaps now well-familiar with as he clamped and pawed at his leggy imprisonment. The warmed over breaths against her inner thighs and brief peck of his lips against her blue-clothed muff brought an uncharacteristic blush to her smirking face...and nearly made her forget about Clyde's sudden uprising of rebellious movements.

"Nyu-uh-uh~...Down, boy~..." Gwen taunted with a sudden clenching flex of her leg muscles, her soft and sweaty skin bearing down on Clyde's blonde-haired head. An unintentional pelvic thrust from the renewed strengthening of the headscissors bringing her soft crotch in direct contact with Clyde's panting face...and was an arousing distraction that had Gwen flinch and cause her grip on the top ropes to loosen...

Gwendolyn was only than acknowledging that she may have been a tad...overzealous, in her bid to keep the scruffy-haired Texan subdued. Perhaps brought on by the undeniable thrill that came with rendering the rebellious ranch-hand totally inert and incapable of mustering even the slightest hint of rebellion form betwixt her immaculate leg muscles. Or perhaps she was too preoccupied in imagining all of the delightful ways she could make use of her new pool boy in ways that had little to do with pool maintenance.

Regardless, her fleeting concentration was stunted from what was the second consecutive time that Clyde's groaning face made direct and muffled contact into her royal-blue clad nethers. A sudden contact that sent chills up her spine and caused her taut frame to slacken ever so briefly while she stifled a mumbled coo from her soft lips. A lapse in concentration that would cost her dearly upon being suddenly unseated from her perch and hauled towards the middle of the ring atop the Texan's shoulders!!

"WaitWaitWait!!!" Gwendolyn stuttered and stammered in petrified shock as she fiercely clenched both of her gloved hands onto the back of Clyde's unkempt locks before being reacquainted with the ring canvas in as painful a way imaginable. Thunderous applause sounding off in tandem with the equally thunderous sit-down powerbomb, one that had Gwen's svelte legs stiffen skyward before flopping over Clyde's shoulders. Gwen now groaning softly with her resplendent golden curls splayed around her head...

The provocativeness of both Gwendolyn's and Clyde's positioning, was thankfully, entirely lost on the rattled heiress still struggling to ascertain where she even was at the moment. An unpleasant pattern now emerging in the frequency in which her opponents took great delight in power-bombing the dainty aristocrat into oblivion. The spiraling roof-lights glistening down above doing little to alleviate her discombobulated senses as her smooth legs remained draped over Clyde's shoulders and against his chiseled torso.

Which at the very least aided in getting a surge of blood-flow back to her disoriented mind, but it regrettably made her more cognizant of her surroundings. Including to the cheeky comments of the Texan Tension champion getting an appreciative eyeful of her svelte and voluptuous body splayed out before him. Her response being less than appreciative...and muttered through a groaning voice with wincing eyes glaring upward...

"...i...idiot."

Being yanked up to her feet before she regained her sense of balance meant that the posh heiress would be on wobbly legs thanks to Clyde's forceful upheaval. Her toned legs slightly buckling while her right hand palmed her forehead before her senses received their just due awakening by means of a meaty slap to her soft and plump backside!! Gwen stiffening ramrod straight on her tiptoes with her mouth agape in breathless shock, her frozen expression akin to a mix of sheer mortification and blushing indignation!! Hooting cheers sounding from fans witnessing the prim and proper aristocrat getting her ass spanked like some common harlot!!

Whichever Gwen's immediate and enraged reaction would be was than summarily snuffed from her being immediately hauled up and over Clyde's shoulders for a cinched in Torture Rack. Her scrunched up face stifling any pained groans from the back-bending submission, her blue-blooded pride refusing to be debased any further by the uncouth cowboy as she obstinately endured the shameful hold. Seconds passing with her limbs dangling loosely until her gloved right hand began to rise up and feel around for Clyde's face. Her posh fingers gently mapping his face with her gliding digits and her index finger even daintily brushing between his lips...before she clawed her hand and attempted a blinding eye rake.

Given that Gwendolyn's lifetime of ballet and gymnastics had afforded her a rather nimble frame with exceptional flexibility, enduring the back-bending submission was only half as grueling as coping with stinging embarrassment of still being at Clyde's mercy. The heiress scrunching her face from the shameful display of being being bent over Clyde's broad, sweaty shoulders with an ogling audience cheering on the cowboy's dominant resurgence.

Being manhandled was always one distinct and foreboding possibility given that this was Gwen's first time contending with, well...a man. But the vengeful heiress still had the fresh memory of getting her rear end spanked to fuel her desperate resistance. Though the elegant facial  massaging from her posh hand was indeed masterfully sensual, it was in fact, purely coincidental. All so she could find the cowboy's eyes and deliver a swift rake.

"Ahagh..." Gwen yelped but settled back down after her sudden release from the agonizing torture rack. A free fall that left her winded and panting laboriously into the canvas before she began shuffling up to her hands and knees. A teasing swivel to her sumptuous backside as she crawled toward the nearby turnbuckle with a wincing groan, her plans for now amounting to nothing more than simply climbing the padded turnbuckle and resting against the corner. All to the tune of a booing audience understandably displeased with her underhanded tactic...

Gwendolyn shirked off whatever contemptuous boos her underhanded ploy had generated from the audience, the posh noblewoman caring little for what these blithering commoners thought of her. For now, all she felt was immensely grateful that her eye-scratching gambit achieved the desired result.

Gwendolyn grimaced bitterly from Clyde's infernal words as she wearily tugged on the ropes in the corner turnbuckle to haul herself back to her unsteady legs. A part of her inwardly acknowledging that matters were indeed beginning to spiral out of her control, but as she turned in place to angrily refute his claim, her comeback was snuffed out by the dashing Clyde splashing into her at full speed.

"Huggh!!" The reviled aristocrat heaved out the air in her lungs and slumped over herself in a weary daze from having her soft, supple frame be squashed between the corner turnbuckle and the sweat-slickened Texan weighing her down. An...unbecoming, and suggestive position made even more so by her wincing head leaning against Clyde's shoulder with warm, delicate breathes felt against his neck.