Who's the Biggest Shill? | Morgan vs Noomi

Match Rules:

This was what Morgan liked and had hoped for when she decided that wrestling could be fun. Unique and unusual matches to prove herself. There was only so many ways of escaping from binds, boxes, and coffins that she could do before it got boring. A straight jacket could be defeated the same way every time. A box always had to have some type of vulnerability for her to safely navigate out of but again, no variety. All those contraptions had a way to beat them but when you added someone trying to prevent you... you never know what they will do. That's what made wrestling fun!

She might have done with a little more fanfare, however. There was no audience to dazzle and no crowd to interact with. It was just a production manager leading Morgan down the clean, modern hallway. The white marble tiled floors and the white walls made everything look sterile if not for the wood accents but even those looked ungodly polished to be clean. She couldn't help but stifle a chuckle as she thought about the future of entertainment and virtual anime girl livestreams seemed to be really popping off. Streaming in general as a matter of fact. Morgan hated streaming. There was nothing but a fake audience to interact with and no cheers or life. In fact, you might not even be live at all. When it came to the stage, it was all raw and real. Waaaaaay better than streaming so it was fitting that her opponent was going to be a streamer. The icing on the cake was the real stipulation of having the other shill for their opponent and there a number of ways that Morgan could think of to have someone shill for her. The Grand Prize, of course, was scoring the opponent for a live show to use however they pleased. That was well worth the time.

Lead to a double door, the production manager opened one of them and motioned Morgan inside. She stepped in, the room was a large motion capture studio albeit modified for live capture of their wrestling match. The emptiness was filled with lock boxes, a few couches, devices, weapons, tables with items scattered across, and even a bed with bedposts on the far wall. Meanwhile on either side of the door sat a wardrobe differing only in the markings they bore on the doors. The Pendragon Family Sigil for Morgan containing all manner of merchandise she sold at her shows as well as a few other eccentric items that she mused together in a list. The other had Noomi's streaming profile pic and inside whatever gawdy stuff she brought.

Showtime!:

Morgan tucked some hair from her face behind her ear and paced around the room before settling on one of the couches. She wasn't going to mind getting her hands dirty even though her card did say she was Face. That was true up until she decided to be a little cheeky and depending on the opponent, she'd get very cheeky if she thought they deserved it.

Noomi probably deserved everything that she was going to get coming to her.

“I hope you didn't run into any trouble getting here?” The cautious stagehand had said with an intonation turning the well-wish into more of a question. Noomi, was late, but late was fashionable. She had no real reason to care either. This whole production couldn’t really start without her, she was the main attraction after all. The streaming superstar’s sidelong glance of disinterest in the question flipped like a light switch to a doe-eyed smile, tilting her head to give a small giggle as if to play her tardiness off as an innocent mistake.

Noomi Holm:

“We got held up.” Tailing the two was a far more casually dressed woman in torn denim pants, combat boots, and a baggy hoodie that made her look drastically out of place. Valentina was here to play chaperone at the request of Let’s Play benefactor. When it had started as a bothersome chore for the quiet tinker, some time in the car drive over to the studio spent reading Morgan’s dossier had piqued her interest. She was cute, which helped, but Valtina’s primary interest was the other aspects of her career, primarily practical effects and stage illusions.

Valentina :

The documents had been intended for Noomi to read to prepare her for their match, but the young Swede didn’t care much for preparation. Instead, she had spent her time on her social media. Now as the three of them walked the corridor to the studio room, her attention had been turned to straightening her skirts and hiking her her bosom in her top to make sure she looked her best.

When the member of production opened the door, he was gifted with the tiniest of pecks on the cheek in gratitude from the streaming sensation. Valentina almost got one as well but leaned away at the last moment and got a cheeky grin back from her tag partner. She instead blew the other woman a kiss. “Enjoy the show, mwah~!”

With a bounce in her step, she slipped into the room, the door closing behind her and clicking shut as they were locked in. Bright blue eyes scanned the room, spotting Morgan almost immediately but rather than call attention to her, Noomi wandered in the opposite direction, running her fingers over the various decor. Eventually, she spoke out loud, turning to flash Morgan a surprisingly warm smile. “This is all pretty neat, huh?”

It hadn't been long, but it was just enough that Morgan found the pain of boredom creeping in. She rarely got nerves for public appearances and this was about as far as it came from being public. Her gaze lifted to the one of the cameras suspended on the rafters, its lens staring back at her. The production angle of this was curious from a stage perspective. Nearly every camera was suspended about ten feet off the ground having been a safe place to mount them. That meant the show and recording would have an elevated view as it would just be the two of them in here.

There were two exceptions, however.

One camera was positioned at waist level in front of the studio room where production worked on making sure sound and everything else was running fine. Perhaps the camera for the pair to engage with? The other camera that wasn't above had a more obvious purpose. Mounted on top of the bed headboard, it looked down on the bed to capture all the explicit detail should their night lead to there. Morgan turned, hearing the door open.

Typical, but sex sells.

Morgan sighed, shaking her head, before the noise of the door, the only entry point in or out, opened. In she walked, Noomi Holm.

In truth, Morgan didn't know much about Noomi. She liked surprises and by doing too much research that ruins the fun of discovery. What she did, however, was watch one of Noomi's streams and it was, predictable, about as basic as Morgan had thought.

That was unfair, Morgan thought, as she watched her opponent analyze the room, taking it all in before flashing that warm smile. The blonde smiled back, returning that smile. "Yeah, I think so!" Morgan rose to her feet. With the door sealed, the match was on and Morgan expected pretty much anything to happen. What she didn't anticipate was being disarmed with a mere smile as she walked over. "Guess we get the run of the show here, too.
Bit of a nice change of pace." Morgan said placing her hands on her hips, glancing around as she started to strategize where to begin first...

When a smile was returned to her, Noomi’s only grew with visible excitement. She took a few steps towards Morgan but stopped short, holding up her hands as if to apologise for potentially making the girl think she was just about to rush her down. Slowly, and carefully, she approached and made it very clear she had no ill will in mind, only the off of a hand. “Whew… sorry. I’m a little bit nervous. You’re my first. Well, not match, but woman I’m supposed to wrestle… I wasn’t expecting you to be so pretty.”

She had blurted out the last part, cheeks catching a hint of red. The streaming star wasn’t this coy or naive, but she peppered her innocent act with enough truth to make it all feel genuine. Morgan was her first female opponent and, she was rather attractive… just not as pretty as Noomi found herself to be. While other people in the league relied on their ringwork or muscle, Noomi was always about social engineering. Why fight hard when you can make things easier? Endearing herself to Morgan might go a long way.

“I um… I meant to say, I’m Noomi, hello!” The offer to shake hands remained if Morgan was so willing. If the blond took it, she would give a light squeeze and a no-strings-attached shake. No need for underhanded tactics, yet. “Yeah, it looks like we just… go when we’re ready.” Noomi flashed a small timid smile, turning her face as if this was slightly embarrassing. "Did you need to stretch or warm up or anything?"

Morgan was idly listening to the other girl, paying her half a mind until that admission came in. That caught the blonde's attention and her head snapped back around to catch Noomi's light blush in her otherwise pale skin. The Magician almost looked taken back, her brow furrowed as she cocked her head down. It was a measuring look, analyzing the act to see if anything was off.

As a stage performer especially in magic, she knew how to swindle or rather call those out because of course she never used her powers for her own gain. Nope, never.

Noomi was convincing though with the light blushing and innocent stuttering. Morgan took that offered hand with a shake. "You're sweet, thanks though!" Morgan nodded and smiled as her compliments didn't come so cheap. Noomi was cute, though. That was a plus and maybe if this was fun, the streamer would get to hear that.

Morgan, slipped her hand free and took a step back. She frowned, realizing what she had to do was wrestle this girl, sweet as she was. "No, I'm all set. Can't really stretch anyway because I'm just so use to stretching that it really isn't a warm-up, funny enough." She realized she was stalling so she dropped her head with a sigh and gave a shake. Raising her gaze she glanced blew air out of her mouth. "Guess I had the wrong impression of you from the beginning. Let this be a good match, okay?" Morgan nodded, sounding almost guilty about it all. But they were competitors and it would be super boring if they just sat around and made out.

Morgan leaned forward and stretched out one hand, grasping the air, and offering a lock-up. "Easy start, yeah?"

“You’re very kind to say so.” When the two parted hands, Noomi clasped hers in front of her skirts, mindful to keep them visible and to remain in a non-assuming pose. It was telling that Morgan didn’t seem to be trying to coax her into doing anything or trying to take a cheap shot at her. That was good. Maybe she was managing to make a connection. Some might argue it was a waste of time, but it could serve to help her later. After all, most people don’t want to punch a friend in the face, even if they are being paid to do it.

“Oh, wow! You must have been doing this sort of thing for quite a while then. I’ll try my best to keep up with you.” Noomi gave a girl nod and a determined sparkle in her eyes. The comment of having the wrong impression got a small cock of her head, inquisitive but nothing more. “I’ll try not to disappoint, everyone is expecting us to put on a good show.”

“Oh… sure!” Noomi took a step forward, staggering her stance. Hands raised, she slowly moved in to initiate a collar and elbow tie-up. For her end, she applied no real pressure, just positioned her hands if not stopped. “Maybe we should count down, then start? A good fair start.”

"Weeellll, not really that long..." Morgan confessed, reluctantly. She was pretty much an amateur when it came to wrestling, only getting in my merit of her fame. Noomi was likely in the same catagory so this probably wasn't going to the most rousing match for the technically inclined fan. Oh well, tough for them.

"Yea a proper countdown sounds good. There usually should be a bell."She nodded, moving in to match that collar and elbow tie-up, but her stance lacked. It had seemed Noomi's did too, but Morgan had no idea what to look for. "Alright. Three. Twooo... Morgan's muscles tensed, dragging out the count as she readied to try and muscle her opponent.

"...One!" Morgan began to push...

“Ding!” Noomi chirped at the count of one, leaning in to push with her weight. She put on a determined face that practically oozed adorable charm, squinted eyes and her tongue poking out between her lips. She had a decent handle on the tie-up, leaning counter to how Morgan may have tried to coax them, shuffling her feet to reposition if she needed to steady herself. “How’s this? Good?”

Noomi tried her best to meet Morgan's push for push, not being overtly aggressive past reciprocation. She was still trying to gauge things and feel it out. Playing too careful early on wasn’t really necessary given the nature of the match so she wasn’t too concerned just yet. For not, she was content to stay deadlocked, masking small things like her fingers stroking the back of Morgan’s neck or along her bicep as though she was just repositioning her hand in the tie-up. When she breathed out she did so purposeful and audible, letting her excitement be known.

If Morgan didn’t act though, Noomi eventually would, shifting her body forward and turning to try and hook an arm around the blond’s neck and pull her down into a side headlock. Not a particularly painful hold, but one that allowed the streamer to mash her opponent's face into the side of her bosom and squeeze it there. Plenty of people would pay for the privilege she was handing out for free and Morgan could stay as long as she liked so long as she didn’t try to escape the headlock.

Morgan leaned forward, pushing. It was a simple strategy, but she wanted to force her opponent back against the wall. From earlier scoping, she did see a stage curtain that hung on the wall. A curtain might not have meant much to others but Morgan, she loved the idea of using it for a little showmanship. It was either that or wrap Noomi in it, so she was a little cute snugbug. A fairly non-violent way of dealing with the little softie that Noomi was turning out to be.

"Yep! You're good!" Morgan cheerily replied as she took a step forward. It seemed the pair of them were both around the same strength which gave no side an advantage but the the size difference was mattering. Morgan was just barely over a hundred pounds and all smaller than her counterpart. She had to work to drive Noomi back but she'd get there eventually.

The little things were missed, like those fingers running along her flesh as Morgan focused on her sole goal. She might have had it, if she was paying a little more attention to her opponent who shifted with a turn. In her zealous drive forward, the blonde found herself leaned too far forward and practically fell into that side headlock!

Morgan did meet the side of Noomi's top, getting treated to a face full of the other woman. It wasn't unenjoyable but it was a minor nuisance as as Noomi's arms clasped and squeezed her in deeper, as if she'd get sucked in.

"Soorry Noomi!" Morgan hollered into Noomi's outfit. The only warning that she'd get before Morgan shot a hand up to grab one of those silver pigtails and give it a yank. The action working in conjunction with Morgan trying to slide back and out of the headlock, giving a light shove if she managed to escape.

Noomi didn’t bear down too hard, just a tight squeeze, maybe a little crank of the hold. Her goal wasn’t to win the match with a headlock after all, it was to make her opponent a bit more malleable for later. The hope was to make her enjoy part of being in the hold to lessen her want to escape. She hadn’t practiced this sort of thing with many other women, but so far all the men she had faced proved to be rather easily tamed.

“Hm~?” Noomi hummed curiously, fully expecting Morgan to be apologizing for being nuzzled against her breast. Blissfully unaware, she made no move to change course. So when the sharp pain came from her scalp, her yelp was one of genuine surprise. It proved to be a good strategy, allowing the blond to pull her head free. Before Noomi could even try to recapture it, she found herself being pushed.

The streamer fumbled her footing, caught mid-turn as she was pushed turning what was a small shove into her backpedaling to maintain her balance. She let out a started cry when her legs bumped into one of the couch ottoman and tent her tumbling backward in a cascade of platinum pigtails onto the floor with all the grace of a sack of potatoes.