Littlest Pet Shop of Horrors

Phoebe managed to pull Gemma into the cage with her, inadvertently slamming her opponentâ€s head against the cold metal edge of the opening, giving the British wrestler a little cut above her eyebrow. Phoebe hadnâ€t really intended to draw blood, but the collision between forehead and cage had disoriented Gemma, and so Phoebe didnâ€t really pay it any more mind. All she was focused on now—now that she had dragged her opponent into close quarters inside of the tiny cage—was delivering unto Gemma an almighty ass-whoopinâ€.

“Naughty, huh? How about you!” Phoebe shot at her foe, raising a hand and bringing it down hard on Gemmaâ€s wiggling bum. “Naughty! Naughty! Naughty!” She would deliver several more slaps to the other wrestlerâ€s rear end before, having enough of the light stuff, Phoebe would grab ahold of her foeâ€s bottoms and, using that handhold, would try to haul the British girlâ€s entire body inside of the cage, shutting it behind her if she could so that there would be no escape. “Time for your punishment!” she would call out, before launching a sharp kick at Gemmaâ€s stomach. While she was doing all of this, Phoebe wasnâ€t really paying attention to the leash in her opponentâ€s hand, however, and had no idea that Gemma was close to attaching it to her collar.

Gemma kept thrusting her legs, pumping at the waist to try and get herself out of this predicament, but to no avail. She couldn't help but think of her friends, family and fans, watching from home and in the arena, and how desperately she didn't want them to see her humbled here, tonight. More than anything, Gemma wanted to prove to everyone that she belonged in the big leagues ...

Unfortunately, pinned against Phoebe's forceful body, Gemma was in no sort of position to show off. She kept kicking, kept trying to buck free of the cowgirl, to no avail. With her situation increasingly frustrating and hopeless, Gemma could feel her face flushing red, tears threatening to burst from her eyes at any moment. Writhing against Phoebe's body defiantly, her ample chest thrusting down on Phoebe's forcefully and repeatedly, Gemma was desperate to assert some form of control in this exchange. If she could, Gemma would try to focus all of her will on affixing the clasp of the lead onto Phoebe's collar, Unfortunately, Phoebe's next move utterly crushed whatever focus Gemma would have managed to muster. If she even managed to put the lead on her foe, Gemma had no idea. All she could focus on was the stinging pain of Phoebe's hand coming down mercilessly, again and again, on Gemma's soft, yielding ass.

"N-No! No!"Gemma moaned, at the top of her lungs. A choking sound came from the base of Gemma's throat, as the tears she'd been fighting so hard to keep back came bursting forth. She keenly felt every strike of Phoebe's hand to her helpless ass, the sounds of the cowgirl's taunts combining with the loud slap of palm against flesh to fill Gemma's ears. "Sod you- uhnn! You-- nnh! Slag! Let, me-- ugn! Go!" she gasped, between choked breaths. Then, without warning, she felt Phoebe grab hold of her wrestling trunks, and yank on them mercilessly. Gemma felt the fabric of the shorts suddenly pulled forcefully into her own ass, a rough ripping sound accompanied by a loud sob escaping Gemma's throat as she was pulled forcefully into the cage in the most humiliating way possible. There was a flash, the toned pink skin of Gemma's ass visible to the audience, drawing a raucous applause just before she disappeared into the cage. She felt her toned tummy landing hard on Phoebe's kick, driving what little air was left in her lungs out of her body with a whimper. Weakened and battered, Gemma pulled on the lead with what meager strength she could, hoping she'd succeeded in affixing it to Phoebe's collar. Otherwise, things were looking quite grim for her, tonight ...

Everything had gone just how Phoebe had intended it. That earlier fall and tumble out of the ring had taken quite a toll on her, but Gemma had allowed her plenty of time for recovery, and now, still a little achey but feeling as alert and as focused as ever, Phoebe was ready to exact some revenge on her British foe. The spanking seemed to have a profound effect on the blonde, and the cowgirlâ€s attempt to haul her into the cage was a complete success—she had even ripped the girlâ€s trunks to reveal her tender, pink ass! Now that the two of them were trapped together in close quarters, surely Phoebe would dominate her opponent. She was just about to go to town on Gemma when the girl started crying.

It was seemingly out of nowhere, and it left the cowgirl dumbfounded. “H-hey! Shut up! Stop that!” Phoebe insisted. The crying bothered her—it made it feel like she was beating up a little kid. “Stop fucking crying and just…just fight!” She raised a hand, then brought it swiftly downwards, delivering a backhanded slap to Gemmaâ€s cheek. “Stop being such a whiny little crybaby, okay? If this is all too scary for you, you can give up! If not, try to fight back! Because otherwise Iâ€m gonna w—nnah!”

Phoebe was cut off mid-sentence as Gemma yanked on the leash that had somehow—Phoebe had no clue exactly when or how it happened—been attached to the cowgirlâ€s collar. Phoebeâ€s head was pulled painfully, awkwardly forward. She growled. “Give me that!” she demanded, her hands reaching down to try to pry the leash away from Gemma.

As she was pulled into the cage, Gemma couldn't help but wonder what it was about her ass that made it a focal point in each of her AFW matches, thus far. And she promised herself that if she made it out of the arena, tonight, she was going to track down and punish whatever awful DIY shop had sold her the fabric for these damned trunks ...

Gemma wasn't given much time to think about this, however, as her roughneck American foe dragged her unwillingly into the cage. Gemma choked, trying with futility to staunch the flow of tears from her eyes as Phoebe's mocking words stung in her ears. It was easy for Phoebe to talk about keeping it together- her bruised bottom wasn't the one being unwillingly flashed to the entire AFW audience. However, when Phoebe's stream of taunting was suddenly cut off by the collar suddenly tightening around her throat, Gemma realized she had her opening.

Hearing Phoebe's demands only gave Gemma strength, as she tightened her grip on the lead and yanked with all the strength she could muster. "Wh-what's scary now, you slag?" Gemma snapped, yanking on the lead as hard as she could. She could feel Phoebe's hands trying to pull the lead out of her hand, but Gemma knew she couldn't let go of this tenuous advantage. With no other advantage, Gemma continued to yank on the lead, hoping to choke out the cowgirl and draw a submission from her before she could regroup.

Phoebe hissed and growled as Gemma continued to pull on the leash, yanking the cowgirlâ€s upper body painfully back and forth. “Stop it,” Phoebe commanded. “Stop it! Iâ€ll fucking destroy you, bitch, if you donâ€t stop that right now!” She continued to pry at Gemmaâ€s hands, trying to loosen her hold on the leash, but the British girl seemed intent on keeping ahold of it and using it to keep Phoebe from continuing her brutal beating.

The cowgirl felt her airways begin to become constricted, and her breathing became more labored as the feeling of her collar being pulled by the leash began to take its toll. “Stop it right now…!” she demanded again, though even as she spoke, her body was beginning to shut down. She had to do something fast to try to save herself. Balling one hand up into a fist, Phoebe would throw a punch into Gemmaâ€s left tit, looking to hurt the girl in a sensitive spot and force her to put her mind on other matters.

Gemma smirked, regaining her confidence as she watched the lead beginning to wear down her foe. "Just say the words, you little twit, and it'll all be over ..." Gemma wasn't too proud of winning like this, all technique thrown out in a fit of shock, but she'd take it if she could get it. Aching, humiliated and still in fear of her ridiculous surroundings, tonight, Gemma was practically praying she could put this match away, and escape to the locker room any moment.

That focus, however, left her wide open to Phoebe's counter. Feeling the cowgirl's tight fist strike with a loud smack into her ample chest, Gemma let out a long, loud cry of pain. "Wank-tart!" she shouted, as she rolled away from Phoebe, her body pressing up tight against the confines of the cage. Completely taken off-task, Gemma released the lead, using both hands to try and massage the pain out of her chest. Clumsily and desperately, Gemma began pounding her foot against the cage door, hoping to break herself out and gain some distance between herself and her opponent. In far too much pain at the moment to form any sort of offense, Phoebe's close-quarters advantage had taken more out of Gemma than she would care to admit. She could only hope that the choking of the lead would weaken Phoebe enough to give her a chance to escape.

Phoebe was not about to give up. She had felt sort of sorry for Gemma when the girl started crying, but now? She was going to make this British cunt pay for trying to humiliate her. "Eat shit, you ugly limey slut!” she spat, as her fist slammed into the blonde girlâ€s tit. Her cry of pain was lovely to Phoebeâ€s ears, helping to shore up the cowgirlâ€s resolve after it had been severely shaken while being yanked about on that leash.

Seeing Gemma try to break out of the cage, Phoebe, despite her weakness, would throw herself forward into Gemma, trying to slam the British girl into the side of the cage and stun her a little. The impact would stun Phoebe a little, too, however, and she would pant heavily, trying to keep Gemma pinned with the assistance of gravity long enough so that she could recover from her choking episode and begin properly beating the girlâ€s ass. Phoebe wasnâ€t very confident that she would be able to hold her opponent down, however—not after being so weakened. She would do her best, however.

Gemma grimaced, a whimper escaping her tightened throat, as she listened to Phoebe's bitter invectives while trying to massage the stinging pain out of her tender, bruised chest. Still, by this point Gemma was hell-bent on escaping the cage, and putting some distance between herself and the sadist cowgirl that had been tormenting her.

Pressed against the cage, already reeling, Gemma was hardly prepared to feel Phoebe's muscular body slamming into her, banging her body helplessly against the cage wall, rattling the poor Brit nearly to the point of witlessness. The sound of Phoebe panting in her ear became Gemma's sole point of focus as she tried to gather her wits, the feeling of Phoebe's warm, sweat-sheened body pressed against Gemma's own, bringing her back to reality in spite of the pain. Focusing on that sensation, Gemma fought back, swinging an elbow hard behind herself to try and force some room between the girls. While she did this, Gemma's heavy steampunk boots would continue to bang against the cage wall, hoping to break it open and give her some hope of escape ...

Phoebe heard Gemmaâ€s whimper and could tell that she had the British girl in a very compromised position. Unfortunately for the cowgirl, she was just not quite energized enough to take advantage of it. She kept her body pressed hard into Gemmaâ€s, as if trying to dice the girl up into little chunks by pushing her through the lattice of the cage wall. At this point, she just needed to keep her opponent from escaping…but, when she heard one final loud bang, followed by a metallic clatter, Phoebe knew that the door to the cage was gone. And Gemma, in all likelihood, was going to be fighting like a she-devil to get out.

Phoebe took her opponentâ€s elbow right in the jaw, eliciting a pained grunt from the cowgirl that forced her to fall backwards. She would put herself in between Gemma and the only exit, however, and made a beckoning motion with her hand, indicating to her foe that, if she wanted to get out, she would have to fight her way out.

Gemma was in sheer agony, the thin metal links of the cage biting into bits of her exposed skin as Phoebe pressed her through the metal lattice mercilessly. Gemma could only moan in pain, knowing she didn't have a chance at surviving like this for long. She hated to admit it, but it was clear to her that Phoebe was stronger than her by far. She could feel the heat of the American woman's body, all tight muscles smelling just slightly of sweat and leather, forcing Gemma's softer and more giving frame against the cage wall, slowly crushing her will to continue.

All of this changed in an instant, however, as Gemma felt her boot finally crash through the cage door. The elbow she'd thrown found her target, and suddenly the momentum of the match seemed to shift yet again. Gemma scrambled to her hands and knees, ready to make good her escape. Seeing Phoebe regroup between her and the exit, she knew she had to take a different track than planned. Still, Gemma wasn't going to let this opportunity pass her by. She could still feel the audience's eyes, both in the arena and back home, on her. Gemma was desperate to redeem herself for all of the humiliation she'd been put through, tonight. She shifted back quickly, bracing herself back and pressing her hands firmly against the cage floor, before thrusting both of her powerful legs directly at Phoebe. She delivered the kick with all the strength she could muster, hoping to clear her opening by kicking her opponent out through the cage door.