Taylor Parker vs. Fallon Terrazas

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

Taylor paced to the middle of the ring and flashed a peace sign and a wink to the crowd while she kept Fallon draped across her shoulders. The girl was about as alert as she was clothed, but Taylor knew she'd be able to see this coming.

She bent her knees as if to squat her opponent, her back straight and butt out. Then she quickly shot upward and hopped Fallon up and off of her shoulders, into the air and over her head. She dropped down as Fallon plummeted in front of her, and she planted the girl's stomach, with all her weight and momentum and Taylor's assistance on the way down, across her knee.

“Fuck you,” Fallon hissed, spitting a mouthful of blood and saliva at Taylorâ€s shoulder as the blonde carried her over to the center of the ring. She had an idea of what her opponent was going to do to her, but, no matter how angry or disappointed she was, she was not going to let Taylor have the satisfaction of making her afraid.

Fallon did what she could to try to escape from Taylorâ€s grasp, but her body had long since passed the point of no return when it came to putting up effective resistance. As Taylor heaved her up in the air, Fallon would try to keep her face as expressionless as possible, though she could not help but let out a loud, pained, terrible scream as her foe brought her down belly-first onto that sharp knee.

"Didn't we talk about that already?"

Taylor shoved Fallon off of her knee and rolled her onto her back, and took a moment to play to the crowd. She pointed down at her beat up opponent with a lopsided, disapproving half-smile. This had gone on long enough.

She draped her body over the girl and kept her body up on her toes, her hips up slightly so that all of her weight bore down on Fallon's considerable, very squishy, and actually pretty comfortable chest. The noise from the crowd swelled as the ref dropped into place and slapped the mat for the one count, though the intimate position of the two wrestlers earned some cheers of it's own.

"One!" Cried the ref-girl.

Fallon snorted contemptuously as Taylor harkened back to her warning about the cursing. Even as broken and as bloodied as she was, she refused to treat such taunting from her opponent with anything but the most acute disrespect. If Fallon was going to lose this match, she was going to lose it with as much honor as she could muster. The belly punching stipulation would make that effort…difficult, to say the least. It was hard to look dignified when having your belly pounded upon.

When Taylor dropped down on top of her, the blonde girlâ€s hips putting all of her weight on Fallonâ€s ample chest, the brunette would wiggle feebly, making a last-ditch effort to escape, though she knew it would require a miracle for her to get out from beneath Taylor—let alone to win this match. As the referee girl began her count, Fallonâ€s struggles would begin to weaken, as she accepted the fact that she was not going to win this one. She heard the referee call out “Two!” She kept wiggling, though she knew it was futile. She gazed up at Taylor defiantly as the refereeâ€s count continued…

"Three!"

Taylor sprung off of Fallon and triumphantly threw her arms in the air. She knelt next to the girl's beaten and stretched out body, her knees spread wide apart, and flashed a bright, punky grin for the crowd that gleamed under the house lights. Then she put her hands on her hips and looked down at Fallon.

"A'right, babe, you know what comes next, right?" She said playfully. "I'm gonna need you to get up for this next part, though..."

She threw a leg over Fallon to straddle her on her knees and reached down to gently get a grip on the brunette's hair with one hand. As she stood up, she slowly brought Fallon up with her, but only halfway. She kept her bent over at waist-height while she led her to the corner, and softly pushed her up against the turnbuckles.

"You're all sweaty, man. Did you get a good workout?" She asked, tracing her fingers along Fallon's abs. "I think you're gonna enjoy this even more than me... Well, maybe not."

The refereeâ€s count reached three, and that was it for Fallon. She was disappointed that she had come up short when she had an opportunity to really make a splash by taking down an AFW veteran, but this experience had steeled her for the future. Taylor might have beaten her tonight, but, ultimately, the blonde woman was going to be just another rung in the ladder that led Fallon upwards to an AFW title! Fallon was already thinking of how she could beat Taylor the next time the two of them tussled. Of course, this match wasnâ€t quite finished yet—while the winner had been decided, there was still the matter of the belly punching stipulation.

Fallon allowed Taylor to pull her to her feet without resistance, though she did give the blonde an unappreciative grunt when her hair was pulled. She straightened up as Taylor pushed her into the corner, smirking as her victorious opponent taunted her and traced her fingers across Fallonâ€s abs. “Oh, Iâ€ll enjoy it…for sure.” She licked her lips, trying to hide her disappointment in losing beneath her anticipation of a brutal belly pounding. Of course, once it started, she probably wouldnâ€t be able to remain quite this composed, and so she wanted to be sure to get in any cheeky comments she might have either before Taylor started or during the first few punches.

Taylor put her palm against Fallon's chin and pushed her back, bending the scantily clad girl against the turnbuckle and making her body arch, exposing her unprotected belly for anything Taylor felt like doing to it.

"That's good, at least-" She stopped dead when Fallon licked her lips. "Dude. That's gross, quit it." She grimaced. "Okay, for real, you know I hit pretty hard, but I can go all night long, too. Just ask Johnny. Do I have to stop if you start puking blood or something? 'Cause I'd really like to see how much damage I can do before someone pulls me off..."

She pushed Fallon's arm over the top rope and then grabbed her wrist underneath and pulled it tight. She backed up a step and pulled one leg back, preparing to launch a knee... She paused, and wiggled her knee pad back and forth and pushed it down until her bare knee was exposed. Then she assumed the position...

But it wasn't even fun trying to mess with Fallon. She seemed more inconvenienced by the whole thing than she was afraid of the savagery Taylor could inflict upon her. And the way she just seemed put off by the end of the match made her wonder if she maybe didn't beat her up enough. Well, she won, that's what mattered.

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Taylor straightened up and ruffled Fallon's hair. "Better luck next time, huh?"

She didn't linger in the ring. She rolled down under the bottom rope and began her stroll back up the ramp, taking time to mingle with fans and pose for some pictures on the way up.

Fallon snickered when Taylor seemed unsettled by her suggestive body language. As much as she would have preferred winning, so long as she lost—and she couldnâ€t change the fact that she did lose—she didnâ€t want Taylor half-assing the belly punching. That just didnâ€t seem right, after all. Plus, Fallon enjoyed having her belly punched, and even though Taylor would probably hit her a little harder than she would have preferred, the Californian was confident that she could still derive a little bit of pleasure from her punishment. When the blonde veteran pulled her knee pad down and pulled her leg back, Fallon braced herself, tightening her abs in preparation for a brutal beating.

But the knee didnâ€t slam into her belly. She waited a few seconds. Taylor straightened up and, instead of starting the belly punching, the veteran just ruffled Fallonâ€s hair and hopped out of the ring. The belly loverâ€s cheeks burned deep red as she let go of the ropes and turned her head to watch Taylor walking up the ramp, chatting with fans and posing for pictures. That small act, ostensibly of mercy, pissed her off more than losing the match had. It was like Taylor was saying that Fallon wasnâ€t even worth her time. The brunetteâ€s composure dissolved completely.

“Hey! Get back here, you fucking bitch!” Fallon yelled. “You canâ€t just…you canâ€t just walk away now!”

She slipped through the ropes, wincing as they rubbed against her bruised, scantily-clad form. “Get back here!” She carefully climbed down from the ring and followed Taylor up the ramp. As sore as her whole body was, it was slow going, and she was limping a little, but she would do her best to catch up to Taylor before she could get away, tackling the blonde if she could.

As the limping loser of the match made her way out of the ring, two apparent members of the audience watched and waited. They were on opposite sides of the ramp standing behind the barricade inconspicuously. They were both wearing black clothing as if security of some sort. One of the them had green hair and nearly seemed to be kawaii material. The other was taller with blond hair. She already had her arms crossed as if waiting impatiently for something.

As Fallon passed them, they each put on separate masks and leaped over the barrier. The smaller of the two sprinted up and smacked the already injured girl in the back of the head with a double axe handle. She was much shorter than Fallon but ambushes had their advantages. The larger of the two casually waited at the bottom of the ramp with her head tilted a little. She bent her knees in preparation for what was about to come.

The shorter assailant grabbed Fallon by the hair and dragged the brunette to her feet. Then, with a fistful of her hair in one hand and her victim's wrist in the other, she forced Fallon back down the ramp in a half-sprint. They wouldn't have to go too far, as the taller assailant came sprinting up. At the last second, she drove her knee right up and into the brunette's already battered abdomen.

Almost got her, Fallon thought to herself, as she approached her blonde opponent. She was going to catch Taylor, and when she did, she would…well, she would make the woman punch her in the belly. I guess I look sort of stupid, Fallon admitted to herself. The way she was going after Taylor to try to force the girl to punch her probably made her look like some sort of pain slut, or a jobber who got off on her own misery. That wasnâ€t it at all, of course—it just wasnâ€t right that Taylor was walking away. By not exercising her right as winner to give Fallon a beating, it was like she was belittling Fallon, making the brunette feel small and insignificant. That was some serious psychological shit right there, and it was making Fallon angrier than even the most brutal of belly bashings could have.

Just before she could grab Taylor, something smashed hard into the back of her head. Fallon fell down onto her knees with a yelp. Her first thought was that someone had thrown something at her. This assumption was quickly proven incorrect, however, when she was dragged back up onto her feet by her hair. She glanced up at whoever had a hold on her. It was…just some little girl wearing a mask. “Ow, ow,” Fallon whimpered, trying to pull her head away from her assailant, but only making the hairpulling hurt even worse. “Let go of me!”

The kawaii-sized girl paid no mind to Fallonâ€s demands, and, instead, grabbed onto her wrist and ran towards the bottom of the ramp, half-dragging Fallon along as the brunette tripped over her own feet. At the bottom of the ramp waited another masked assailant. “Who the fuck are you people?” Fallon managed to get out, before the bigger girlâ€s knee slammed into her belly. Fallon let out a gurgling, pained shout before dropping to her knees, clutching at her stomach with her free hand.