Wells Quinn Vs. Axelle Holt

Wells was squished under Axelle's tiny body and groaned as she felt the small weight upon her. "Seduce!? Have I gained the next level of my lusty succubi powers?" She asked herself. Was she one? wasn't she one? it was hard to tell. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to think about it because Axelle began to employ her Tickle-fu!

"What? N-No... Ahahahahaha!" Wells began to squirm and wriggle under Axelle's torture. "No! no! No!" She groaned and tried to kick her feet. "I'll pee myself! And then when you try and tickle me with your tongue, it will really be pee!"

Axelle was happy to pay back her opponent in kind for all of the tickling she had been forced to endure throughout this match. Despite the wild struggling of her opponent beneath her, however, Axelle could not help but feel as if her tickling was not achieving the full desired effect. The French girl knew what the problem was: her opponentâ€s hoodie. If Wells squealed like that with her hoodie on, Axelle could only imagine how ticklish she must be without it!

“I donâ€t plan to…uh, tickle you with my tongue,” Axelle replied, her fingers ceasing to wiggle as they instead slid down Wellsâ€s sides, trying to grab onto the bottom of her pink hoodie. “But you are welcome to pee yourself if you want. The tickling will only be worse from here. You have made a terrible faux pas.”

Axelle would then try to yank Wellsâ€s hoodie off of her in one quick, fluid motion. If she could do that, she would then immediately resume tickling her pink-haired foeâ€s obviously sensitive sides.

"Awwww!" Wells almost seemed disappointed at Axelle's refusal to go tit for tat with Wells' tickling. Wells calmed down a bit from her fit of laughter after Axelle began to trail down her sides and grip her hoodie. She heard the French girl's words and shook her head. "I don't know what that means, but I'm pretty sure it had an X in it!" She said as though that mattered. "Waaaah!"

Wells cried as her hoodie was pulled off her, leaving her in a very thin, white boys t-shirt with a black bra clearly showing underneath. "Nooooo! Everyone will ask me why I wear a bra if the see!" Wells said, trying to cover up her chest while she kicked as much as she could with her feet to try and get Axelle off her. "Ahahahaha! Stoooop!"

Axelle was, once again, surprised by Wellsâ€s reaction to what she said. Did the girl actually want to be tickled like that? Did she really think that…that was tickling? If she got the chance, Axelle would have to question Wells about all of this after the match was over.

“I think you know more of my language than you are telling me, pinkie…” Axelle observed as Wells commented on her use of faux pas, as she quickly and efficiently slid Wellsâ€s hoodie off, exposing the thin white T-shirt she wore underneath—not to mention the black bra which could be clearly seen through the material of the top. Axelle saw it, and heard what Wells said about it as she bashfully covered her chest. The French girl smirked. “I understand,” she said sympathetically. “I wear one, too, when Iâ€m not in my costume. Weâ€re the same in that way. Not only are we both pinkies, but weâ€re both, uh, flatties, too.” She giggled a little bit. “We can make an even more exclusive club together.”

Axelleâ€s mood had softened a little, but she was not about to ease up on Wells, and, as she kept herself atop her fellow pinkie despite the girlâ€s thrashings, Axelle would reach a hand inside Wellsâ€s shirt and grab the back strap of Wellsâ€s bra. “You shouldnâ€t have worn one tonight, though, because it means I can do this!” With that, Axelle would pull on the strap, trying to stretch it as far as it would go, before releasing it, letting it snap back against Wellsâ€s back and hopefully give the girl an unexpected, somewhat painful shock.

Wells' eyes widened with each new word that spilled out of Axelle's mouth as she tied to keep herself from peeing her pants. But the words made her eyes bulge. There were more important things than that. "OH MY GOD YOu'RE MY CLONE!" Wells blurted out when Axelle was finished. It all made sense! They were EXACTLY alike . Down to every last detail. The Pink Hair, the Tickle-fu, the bras! How could she not have seen it before?!

This new revelation was so mind blowing to Wells, that she barely noticed when Axelle grabbed her bra strap.But when It was snapped, Wells shrieked painfully and then looked at Axelle panting. "Hah... hah... you better not do that again!" She said. "Since we're clones, whatever you do to me, you'll be doing to yourself. Just watch!" She then lifted her hand and pinched her nose. "Nahahn!" She said in a nasally tone. "Take THAT, CLOOOONE!"

The suggestion that the two of them were clones made Axelle giggle. Wells was quite charming in her naivety, even if it was sometimes also rather excruciating trying to convey some concept or another to her. Axelle felt like playing along now, so she added: “And donâ€t forget the ‘ell†in the middle of both of our names. Thatâ€s the best piece of evidence out of all of them, isnâ€t it?”

After she snapped the other pink-haired girlâ€s bra, Axelle expected Wells to fight back, but the manner in which she did was unexpected—although Axelle had come to expect the unexpected from Wells during their brief time in the ring together. Seeing Wells holding her own nose, however, trying to somehow telepathically transmit the effects onto Axelle, was just too much, and the French girl began laughing, harder and harder, until she had tiny tears rolling down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she looked down at Wells with a big smile on her face. “Oh, yeah?” she said in a nasally tone, as if Wellsâ€s attack had actually somehow been successful. “See how you like this, clone!”

Axelle would then reach one arm backwards and pinch her own rear end, squeaking a little as she did so. With a smirk, she would wait to see how Wells reacted to that.

"Oh no!" Wells gasped. "We're Wexelle Quolts!" Wells said. "Whatever you do, don't say our name backwards! We'll both die! I'm pretty sure that's how it works!" Wells said, not having a clue. it had to be true, after all, look at what she was doing to Axelle.

But Axelle figured things out quickly and left Wells in a bad situation. She watched as Axelle pinched her own bum. Wells eyes widened and she squealed and thrust her hips up hard in a reaction, slapping them against Axelle's body. "Eeeeeee!"

Wells gasped. "Nyaaaaah!" She groaned and grabbed her own hair and began yanking hard on it. "O-Owwwwie! Take that! Owwww!"

“I donâ€t think I could say that name—or, uh, our name—backwards,” Axelle observed, as she pinched her own bum, apparently giving Wells one heck of a pain in her own bottom, as the crazy pink-haired girl thrust her hips upwards into Axelleâ€s body, their crotches briefly touching together, for just long enough to turn the French girlâ€s face a brilliant shade of pink.

Axelle was wondering if the other girl had actually felt something. Could she have managed to condition herself psychologically to believe any notion that popped into her brain? It was curious…very curious. But it was too much fun not to play along. When Wells began yanking her own hair, groaning and squealing as she did so, Axelle would throw her own headful of pink hair back and forth, again and again, mirroring Wellsâ€s motions. “Owww!” Axelle whined. “Owwwwww! Stop that! You want to do this the hard way? Weâ€ll do this the hard way!” Axelle would open her mouth wide and stick two of her fingers inside, looking menacingly down at Wells.

“Surrender! Or Iâ€ll make us both throw up!” she threatened, wiggling the fingers inside her mouth, inching them a little closer towards the back of her throat, as if she would actually make good on the threat.

Wells tried to smile through the pain of having her hair tugged when she saw how much it destroyed her clone as well. She could achieve victory against Axelle, she knew it. After all, they were exactly alike. But then that thought occured to her. They WERE exactly alike! The only way this match could possibly end was in a tie! Wells looked horrified at the thought. But then, suddenly, Axelle had an even more devious scheme.

Wells watched as Axelle taunted her. She covered one hand with her mouth and puffed her cheeks out like a chipmunk. "MMNNNN!" She protested.

What could she do though? She couldn't beat her clone ina puke war! They'd... it'd be a draw! She had to act desperately. "I still have my..." Wells said, panting as she exhaled her big cheekfull of air. "My Tickle-fu!" Wells then shoved her hand down between their crotches and began to tickle her crotch with her fingers. But she didn't laugh about it. She just blushed and moaned softly, throwing her head back. "Ughhhuuu... damn you, clone! Take... nnn... this... hah..."

Axelle had thought that she had Wells backed into a corner on this one. The girl obviously believed that what happened to one happened to the other, and she certainly could not want to puke her guts out right here in front of thousands of people. The only option seemed to be for Wells to surrender.

…or, well, to strike back. Axelle couldnâ€t believe her opponentâ€s silliness had infected her to the point that she had temporarily forgotten that they could attack each other directly, as well. When Wellsâ€s fingers began wiggling over her already damp crotch once again, Axelle let out a surprised cry and tumbled off of her fellow pink-haired pugilist, laying down on her side on the mat facing the other girl. To her surprise, Wells wasnâ€t laughing and chatting like she had been before—her head was thrown back, and she was moaning softly, as if she was the one who was getting tickle-fingered. Axelle couldnâ€t help but get a little angry. “Y…y-you know this shouldnâ€t have an effect on you, d-donâ€t you!?” she stammered, trying to hold back her own moans. “Even if we…we were clones, you couldnâ€t feel…couldnâ€t feel—aah!—this!” She threw her own head back, sucked in a deep breath, then managed to once again level her gaze at Wells. “The only way for you to feel it is if I…”

She trailed off, but her actions would do the talking, as she would let her own hand sneak down to Wellsâ€s crotch to begin gently tickling her private parts. If this crazy girl wanted to feel what Axelle was feeling, the French girl was more than willing to oblige her.