She was tired, but she felt good about herself as she walked up the front steps leading into her house. Marisol was returning from the gym where she had just completed her last work-out prior to her championship match against Helen on the next night.
It was late afternoon and she didn't expect Hector to be home from work yet, but nevertheless she heard familiar noises coming from the den as she opened the front door. But rather than be alarmed by the noises coming from within her home, a wide smiled stretched across her face as she walked toward the den. She immediately recognized the grunts, groans and other sounds which gushed from the television, and even before she entered the room, she called out, "so which one are you watching today, the first one or the second?"
Marisol was referring to the video tapes of her two private wrestling matches against her next door neighbor, Maggie. They were Hector's favorite thing to watch and as Marisol entered the room, Hector turned to her and answered, "it's the second. But be quiet, the best part is coming up."
Marisol smiled as she watched herself slapping Maggie's bare breasts, the loud SMACK of each connection filling the room with sound. Marisol then turned her attention to her husband, who was squirming in his seat like a little kid watching his favorite television show.
"Here it comes..... watch Hon.......Hector's wishbone!!!!!"
Marisol walked over to her husband, gave him a kiss on the head, then turned and walked out of the room, Hector's eyes never leaving the screen. The image of the battered Maggie dangling form the ropes as Marisol stretched her apart led the contented man to clap his hands with delight. Upon the conclusion, he turned the VCR off, and then walked upstairs into their bedroom, where Marisol had stripped out of her sweaty work out clothing.
"Those were the best two presents anyone has ever given me. Have I told you that before?"
"Yes, a hundred times" Marisol replied laughingly.
"When I die, I want you to bury those tapes with me, understand? And if you ever want to make a third one, I have no objection, just so you know."
Marisol nodded her head in agreement. "I know you have no objection my love, but I think my dear friend Maggie might object to facing me again." Marisol replied sarcastically. She then walked into the bathroom, turned on the hot water in the shower, and proceeded to let it pour over her tired muscles. And within another minute, Hector had joined her as the two giggled while taking a shower together.
Meanwhile, the telephone in Helen's apartment seemed to ring every half hour on the button, but Helen ignored it, her thoughts focused solely on her upcoming match. Ever since she had become champion she vowed to spend the night before a match alone, plotting her strategy and preparing herself mentally. That meant no guests, no telephone, nothing.
But as the third ring ended, she heard the same familiar voice each time.
"Helen?......Hi it's me. Just wanted to talk to you for a minute and wish you luck tomorrow. Hope you wish me luck too. Are you there?......Did you get my other messages?.......Call me back, okay?"
It was Fire, and even though she was relentless in her attempts to speak with her, Helen never picked up the phone. It wasn't that she was trying to be mean, she just didn't want anything to disturb her, break her concentration. She actually would have liked to talk to Fire, wish her luck in the Queen of the Hill Tournament which was to take place right before Helen's match against Marisol. But Helen was a very disciplined woman, and once she set her mind to something, she stuck to it.
So even though Fire's calls grew more frequent, and more desperate, Helen simply ignored them. Nonetheless, Helen was surprised at how much she had grown to cherish her relationship with Fire. It was obvious that Fire was crazy about Helen, but Helen had never really had any meaningful long term relationships, especially with a woman. And even though it was hard to call their relationship long term, or even exclusive, Helen could not ignore her feelings. Yes, she still dated men on occasion, but Fire was by far the person she was most fond of.
Helen caught herself fantasizing about the two of them together, and quickly went about distracting herself. She started with calisthenics, then running through an aerobic boxing routine, and before she knew it, it was time to go to bed. Tomorrow was a big day. Her second defense of her title, and this time, against the toughest opponent the POWA had to offer.,/p>
Helen lie in bed thinking about the upcoming match. She knew it would be tough and she knew Marisol wanted to beat her. Though they had never faced each other in a singles match, they had met in the POWA's Battle Royale, which was eventually won by Helen, allowing her to compete for the title. Helen was the woman responsible for tossing Marisol from the ring, but she knew that was possible only because Fire had helped.
Fire had snuck up behind Marisol as she faced off against Helen, and rammed her elbow into Marisol's back, allowing Helen to gain the upper hand. And Helen took full advantage of that, giving Marisol a terrible beating before tossing her over the top rope. But this time, Helen would be on her own, and she knew Marisol wanted revenge.
Marisol lay awake as well, thinking about the same thing. Even though Helen had needed Fire's assistance to double team her and eventually toss her out of the ring in the Battle Royale, she still respected the champion. She knew Helen was a skilled wrestler and fierce competitor who would do anything to win, not unlike herself. But that was even more incentive for Marisol to once and for all claim her superiority by beating the best wrestler in the POWA other than her. And that wrestler was Helen.
The locker rooms in the POWA's arena were a madhouse before the start of the Queen of the Hill. The eight wrestlers who were competing in that tournament all were frantically preparing themselves. But there were two dressing rooms in which the doors remained closed and the atmosphere remained calm, and they belonged to Helen and Marisol.
Both women had arrived early and both were already suited up before the tournament even started. They each received updates of the tournament's progress, match by match. After the first match of the first round had concluded, Marisol was told that Maggie had been pummeled by the young, rookie called The Outlaw. She was beaten so badly in fact, that she had to be helped back to her locker room.
Marisol had hoped that Maggie would have at least made a decent showing in the tournament, not because she had a change of heart and wished Maggie well, but rather for her own personal benefit. Marisol had it all planned out. First she would beat Helen, thereby winning the POWA crown. And if Maggie had made a respectable showing in the tournament, it would have strengthened Marisol's case to let Maggie have the first match against the new champion. That would then give Marisol the opportunity to avenge the loss she suffered earlier, at Maggie's hands. It wold give her the opportunity to humiliate her old adversary in front of thousands of people.
But Maggie's poor showing in the tournament had virtually ruined any of Marisol's plans. So angered at the outcome, Marisol decided to go pay a visit to her old rival. She walked out of her dressing room and stormed into Maggie's, where she found her slumped over in a chair, sobbing. Feeling no remorse, Marisol walked over to her and angrily yelled at her.
"You are really pathetic! You can't even beat a green rookie. You know, after I win the crown tonight, I was going to give you the first title shot. I wanted to have the chance to humiliate you in front of all of these people. But you know what..... you don't need me to do that to you. You humiliate yourself every time you step into the ring. .....You're just pathetic......."
And with that, Marisol walked out of the room, leaving the humbled Maggie to continue her sobbing.
As the tournament went on, Helen was delighted to hear that Fire had advanced to the championship round, even though it had been a struggle for her to get that far. But she had also heard that the young, rookie was kicking everyone's butt, and was still relatively fresh going into the championship round. In fact, the report Helen got was that Fire probably didn't stand a chance against the awesome youngster.
She debated what to do, and finally, against her better judgement, she got up, opened the door to her dressing room and her made her way to the entrance to the arena. The crowd buzzed as she made her way down the aisle to the side of the ring. She received a loud ovation as she reached Fire, surprised at how battered her lover looked.
"You're doing great. Championship round! How do you feel?"
Fire paused for a second, and then replied in a whisper, "Tired."
Helen placed her hand on Fire's shoulder and massaged it softly, just as another burst of noise came from the crowd. Fire and Helen both looked up, only to see The Outlaw towering over both of them, standing ominously close to the crouched champ.,/p>
"What the hell you doin' here Helen? If you ain't gonna get in the ring and fight me, then get the hell outta here."
The expression on Helen's face slowly turned from a smile to a menacing sneer as she placed her hands on Fire's knees, pushed herself upright and then turned to face the rookie. Though several inches shorter, Helen stared her right in the eye, neither one of them backing down one bit. Before anything could happen however, several security guards ran over and came between the two women, separating them.
Fire stood up and watched as Helen was escorted away, not putting up much of a fight. Helen knew she had to save her energy for Marisol, and wasn't going to let a young kid distract her. But as she was being led away, Helen turned back and winked at Fire while mouthing the words, "Good luck".
The Outlaw was now hyped however, and began to scream and taunt Helen as she was led away.
"You watch and see what I do to your girl! Cause then.....I'm comin' to get you! You're next!!!"
Helen tried to ignore the rantings, but thought to herself, "Someone's got to teach her a lesson."
Sadly though, Helen realized that it would not be Fire. In fact, she knew that Fire was in for a rough time, and tried not to think about it.
Helen settled back into her locker room, just as Marisol had gotten word about the events which just took place. Marisol had to go and see this young rookie for herself, and so, she got up and made her way into the arena, just as Helen had done.
Marisol also received a loud ovation before brashly taking an empty seat at ringside to watch the action.
The Outlaw was obviously in control of the match at this point, with Fire laying helplessly beneath the ropes. The rookie turned her attention away from Fire however, and stared menacingly at Marisol. The rookie then took the opportunity to showboat.
"Want to see what the rookie got, eh?"
Marisol stared back, but did not respond. The Outlaw then placed her hands on her hips in a defiant pose. She animatedly turned her head to all sides of the arena, making sure she had everyone's attention. She then looked back at Marisol, who was amused at the display.
"Well then, watch this!" blurted the youngster.
To The Outlaw's surprise however, Fire had crawled beneath the ropes and gotten to her feet, standing on the ring apron and facing in toward the rookie. As The Outlaw turned to face her, expecting her to still be on the mat, Fire reached forward, grabbing the rookie by the hair with both hands and pulling her head
downward. The Outlaw was completely surprised and could not defend herself. She found her head dipping into the ropes, her throat forced against it as Fire pulled down on her head as hard as she could.
After what seemed like an eternity, Fire eased up on The Outlaw's hair momentarily, but then jumped out of the ring, causing the rookie's body to dip dangerously low, choking her severely. Fire then released the rookie's hair, launching the svelte youngster back into the ring and sending her tumbling onto her back. Marisol chuckled as the rookie rolled onto her side and grasped her throat with both hands, gagging for air as she kicked her legs in a frenzy.
The veteran Marisol couldn't help but be amused by the rookie's naiveté`. But as the match went on, and The Outlaw again assumed control, Marisol also couldn't help but notice the rookie's prowess. In fact, Marisol's presence at ringside only added to the amount of punishment the rookie was dishing out. It was obvious that the rookie was trying to show off in front of Marisol, and Fire was on the receiving end of the abuse.
Marisol watched as The Outlaw proceeded to obliterate Fire, until finally, everything came to a halt. The crowd jumped to their feet, The Outlaw momentarily stopped beating on Fire, and all eyes turned toward the aisle which lead from the locker rooms. Standing there, staring across at Marisol, was Helen. The two warriors exchanged cold stares, but before long, the rookie grew angry at having the spotlight turned away from her.
The incited youngster immediately turned, grabbed a handful of Fire's hair and hauled the devastated wrestler onto her feet. Fire was just about dead weight, but the rookie forced her onto her feet, Fire wobbly as she struggled to gain her balance. The Outlaw then slapped one hand between Fire's legs, the other between her breasts, and with a loud grunt, pressed the scantily clad wrestler up and over her head.
She had once again gotten the crowd's attention as they erupted, leaping to their feet at the show of strength and defiance from the rookie. Helen stood her ground, showing no emotion as she watched the spectacle. The Outlaw pressed Fire upward until her arms were fully extended over her head, her limbs gradually beginning to tremble from the strain. Anyone watching, including Helen and Marisol, had to admit that she was an impressive piece of sculpture, her glimmering body a masterpiece of strength and fitness.
The Outlaw then walked over toward the corner, and with a loud grunt, dropped Fire's back down onto of the corner ropes like a slab of beef, leaving her arms dangling off of one side, her legs dangling off of the other. She then climbed up onto the bottom ropes, standing ominously over her prey, staring at Helen
the entire time.
The crowd again roared as the two stared each other down. But then, showing no emotion, Helen turned and walked back to the locker room, choosing to see no more. As Helen reached the door at the end of the aisle however, she heard the rookie let out a loud grunt. The champion froze, but did not turn around. The Outlaw then leaped into the air, lifting her arms over her head as she descended, driving her combined fists into Fire's belly. The battered Fire groaned loudly as she rolled forward off of the ropes at and landed with a THUD at The Outlaw's feet.
But Helen did not turn to watch, she didn't need to. She heard the reaction, heard the landing, and then the roar of the crowd, which told her everything she did not see. So instead of watching, she pushed the door open and walked back into the locker room, unable to help her lover.
Marisol however remained at ringside and watched as the rookie pinned the debilitated Fire. She then got up quietly and walked back to the locker room, virtually unnoticed. It was time to get ready to face Helen in the championship match, but she had to admit that she was impressed with the showing of the youngster.
As she began to walk down the aisle, she passed by Hector and playfully ran her fingers through his hair. She kept moving however, and as she neared the doors, one of the fans asked her what she thought of the rookie. Marisol did not stop to chat, but offered her opinion as she walked away.
"Time will tell.....time will tell"
And with that, she left the arena and prepared to face her own challenge.
It took several minutes for all of the commotion to die down, but eventually the ring was cleared, the crowd quieted, and the cameras turned off. The two competitors for the featured match of the evening now began to ignore any of the numerous distractions, and soberly sat in front of the mirrors in their respective dressing rooms. The champion did not worry about Fire, or The Outlaw, but instead stared at herself, running through the possible situations in her upcoming match. Similarly, Marisol did not think about The Outlaw, or about Hector, or about Maggie. The only thought on her mind was Helen.
The silence was soon broken by a knock on the door however, and she was led to the entrance to the arena. The commercials had already aired and the cameras were once again rolling, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Marisol's thoughts were racing, and she was oblivious to what was happening around her. Before she knew it, she heard her name exclaimed over the PA system as the doors flung open.
Marisol trotted toward the arena, waving to the cheering fans as she jogged forward. She wore a yellow, waist length jacket, edged with rhinestones, which glittered under the bright lights as she bounced forward. The jacket was opened in front to reveal her taut body, only the private parts covered by a somewhat scant bikini. Marisol's skin was a reddish brown, which contrasted nicely to the bright yellow of her suit and matching boots. Her red hair had grown, and now flowed over her shoulders and halfway down her back.
Climbing into the ring, she walked toward her corner, where she took off her jacket and then began to bounce and stretch. She had an impressive body, marked with some minor scars from a long career of combat, but which did little to detract from the symmetrical fitness of her 40 year old body. As she would usually do, she looked out to where Hector was sitting, but to her surprise, his seat was empty. Marisol didn't think anything of it however, as Helen's introduction was already underway.
".....THE POWA CHAMPION.....HELEN!!!!!"
The crowd erupted into cheers which were similar in their decibel level to those which Marisol had received. Helen wore a long, flowing white robe, completely closed in front, as was her usual style.
She slapped no hands however, waling pointedly forward, her eyes fixed on the ring, and directed towards Marisol's corner.
She climbed up the steps and between the ropes, marching around the ring as her robe dragged behind her. And in dramatic style, she marched back tot he center of the ring, which the announcer had just vacated. She stood erect for a few moments, but then raised her hands and undid the buttons on her robe before letting it fall off of her shoulders.
She was clad in a skimpy, white one piece suit and looked incredible. It was made of pure white, silken material and hugged what little of her body it covered like a second skin, each dimple on her sensuous, taut body evident. The suit was cut daringly high on the thighs, and incredibly bare in both front and back.
The front was a simple "V" shape. From her crotch, two separate lengths of material ran up the front of her body, covering each of her large breasts, her hardened nipples protruding from beneath the suit. The two lengths of shiny, white material then met behind her neck. From behind she was completely backless, the only part of her body covered was her butt, and even that was barely covered at all.,
Helen's long, thick black hair seemed to shine like silk as it was tossed over her shoulders, against the milky whiteness of her skin and the shiny whiteness of her suit, it was quite beautiful. And with the intensity of her deep, brown eyes, Helen looked exotically beautiful.
Desiree then called the two women together, and they stood toe to toe as Desiree warned them about breaking the rules. No words were exchanged between them and surprisingly, no gestures or histrionics
either. The two warriors simply stared, emotionless until they were directed back to their respective corners, no handshakes or phony sportsmanship exchanged either.
The crowd erupted as the lights outside of the ring dimmed and the bell rang to mark the start of the war between these two respected warriors. Each moved out of their corners swiftly, with Helen darting across at Marisol and quickly clenching onto her forearm. Marisol countered by grabbing a handful of Helen's thick, black hair, but before she could make use of the grip, Helen had flipped her arm behind her and trapped her in a painful wrist lock.
Marisol hunched forward, her right arm bent behind her back as Helen twisted it further to increase the pressure on the joint. With Marisol moaning, Helen moved closer, wrapping her free arm up beneath Marisol's left armpit, and then around the back of her neck trapping her other arm in a half nelson.
Helen now had control over both of Marisol's arms in an impressive show of speed and dexterity. She began to attempt to put more pressure on both holds, but could not maneuver well with both of her own arms occupied as well. So in order to allow herself more freedom of movement, Helen released the wrist lock on Marisol's right arm, and focused on the left.
But once free, Marisol immediately rifled her elbow backward, driving it into the bare skin on Helen's stomach. Helen grunted as she pitched forward, only to have Marisol grab a handful of her hair and pull her across her shoulder. But rather than flip her over, Marisol quickly lifted herself up, carrying Helen across her right shoulder in the process.
The champion screamed and kicked as she was elevated, her body draped across Marisol's shoulder, but the challenger had control of her. Marisol paused for a second, but then charged forward two or three steps before dipping her shoulder and forcing Helen's legs to lift into the air as her back raced toward the mat. Marisol drove her weight down on top of Helen, competing a powerful Power slam, as she smashed Helen's back into the canvas while driving her own weight down on top of her.
The canvas bounced up and down from the impact of the forceful maneuver, and Helen felt her back throb after the landing. But Marisol wasted no time and quickly rolled onto her side, grabbing a handful of Helen's hair in the process. As Marisol got to her feet, she pulled Helen up along with her. The crowd was screaming at the quick action as both women were no on their feet, Marisol with the upper hand.
Marisol wrapped her arm around the head of the bowed champion, placing her in a side headlock as she prepared for her next moved. Helen, bent in half at Marisol's side, wrapped her arm around Marisol's back, trying to secure a grip as best she could. Marisol released the grip of Helen's hair, readying herself for a run for the corner, but by doing so, she allowed Helen enough room to lift her head while wrapping her free arm around the front of Marisol and lifting her in a quick, but forceful bearhug.
Marisol's back was now pressed tightly against Helen's front as the challenger's legs lifted into the air. Helen squeezed her arms tightly together, compressing Marisol's midsection in the process. But then Helen dropped to one knee, driving Marisol's body downward in the process. She drove Marisol toward the mat, her legs straddling Helen's outstretched knee until her crotch slammed down against it.
The crowd gasped as Marisol groaned from the painful impact, her arms falling limply at her sides as she sat perched on Helen's extended leg. The champion then pulled her leg in quickly toward her body, dropping Marisol to the canvas in a seated position.
Helen then gradually stood up behind Marisol, reaching down toward her neck with her two hands. But almost as if had use of a mirror to see behind her, Marisol reached up, snatched hold of Helen's wrists, and flipped her over her body, dragging her by the arms.
Helen flipped into the air before her magnificent body crashed to the mat, stretched out awkwardly. The crowd again roared as Marisol got to her feet gingerly, her groin still aching from the earlier crash. But Helen was still a bit dizzied by the toss, and so Marisol was able to get to her before Helen recovered her bearings.
Helen had rolled into a seated position as Marisol approached from behind. With Helen unable to get up, Marisol was able to reach down and cup her hands together beneath Helen's chin, pulling up on her head in the process. Helen frantically tried to loosen Marisol's grip, but to no avail, as the Puerto Rican beauty continued to yank painfully on Helen's chin.
The champion's face contorted from the hold, Marisol's hands now pressed tightly against her cheeks, the pressure in her neck becoming unbearable. Helen felt her butt lift off of the mat, all of her weight now being supported by her neck. She felt a shiver in her spine form the hold, her body trying to transfer some of the stress from her neck to her back. Helen knew this was trouble and that if she were unable to break the hold soon, she could be permanently injured.
Her arms were free, and she knew she had to figure out a way to break the hold, which was gradually making her numb. At first she tried to wrap her arms around the back of Marisol's legs, trying to force her off balance. But with her own butt elevated off of the mat, she had no leverage. By this time however, Helen was getting lightheaded.
"GGRRGGWWWHHH"
She mumbled and muttered, trying to scream in protest, but her jaw was clenched tightly together. Sprays of saliva spittered from her lips as she tried to scream, but was unable to do little else. Finally she reached up, and in a desperate effort, grabbed hold of each of Marisol's arms at about her elbow. She then dropped her feet to the floor, and with a frenetic effort, pulled forward with all of her strength.
Marisol resisted at first, but was finally unable to keep her balance, and was sent flipping across Helen's shoulder, and landing on her back in front of the groggy champion. Helen's face was beet red, her lips wet from her own saliva, but she was free of the torturous hold.
Marisol however was quick to her feet while the dazed Helen remained seated on the canvas. Marisol stormed over to Helen, and quickly reached for a handful of her hair. But Helen was aware enough to raise her arm, blocking the attempt, as she launched a straight punch with her other hand.
The blow connected into the lower portion of Marisol's tummy, an inch or so below her bellybutton, but with little force behind it. It was enough to back Marisol up a half step or so, but enough to prevent from immediately attacking again, which she did.
This time, Marisol reached forward with both hands, and though Helen tried to block the attempt, she could not stop it. Marisol placed both hands behind the seated champion's head, and with a quick jerk, pulled it forward while driving her knee upward. Helen's forehead met Marisol's knee with tremendous impact, as again the crowd gasped and Helen's eyes seemed to roll in back of her head before she toppled onto her side.
The crowd delighted in the brutal attack as Helen was knocked senseless and lay on her side. Marisol realized that the blow was quite effective and that Helen would be hazy for a few minutes, so she paused to take a deep breath and a quick glance out to Hector. Catching her breath, she was unable to find Hector in the crowd. She noticed an empty seat in the vicinity of where she thought he was sitting, but brushed it off by assuming she was not looking in the right place.
Marisol turned her attention back to Helen, who still lying on her side, holding her head. Reaching down, she grabbed a handful of Helen's long tresses, and began to yank her up and onto her feet. Helen rose reluctantly, a large, red mark apparent in the middle of forehead as she was pulled up. Marisol dropped to one knee while pulling her other leg out in front of her and pointing the toe of her boot up into the air. As her heel rested against the canvas. She pulled Helen's up so that she was now on her own knees, but then Marisol forcefully pushed down on Helen's head, driving her entire body back toward the mat.
Helen's arms stretched in front of her as she fell, but as she descended, she realized that the toe of Marisol's boot was directly under her stomach. But by now it was too late and the bare spot in Helen's midsection, directly between the two white straps on her suit, landed painfully and forcefully down onto the point of Marisol's yellow wrestling boot.
Helen's hair flew in all directions as she tumbled onto her side, gurgling in pain as she wrapped her arms around her wounded midsection. It was a skillful maneuver, and one which left the already dazed Helen in even more agony.
The crowd erupted however, cheering the clever maneuver as Marisol go to her feet, looking down at the flattened champion who was rolling into the fetal position. Marisol then reached down, grabbing hold of Helen's right wrist, not giving her a chance to recover as she plucked her off of the canvas. Helen's pained expression was a clear indication of the agony she was in, as she unwittingly was plucked onto her feet.
Marisol yanked her over to the side ropes, Helen's head bouncing from side to side as she protested the rough treatment. Marisol then ran forward, and pulled Helen ahead, using an Irish Whip to toss the beleaguered champion across the ring. Helen's hair blew wildly as she ran forward, turning and sinking into the ropes before bouncing off of them. But before she could take more than two full steps, she ran into an unyielding obstacle in the form of the sole of Marisol's boot.
Marisol had come over to the far side of the ring and stuck her leg up and straight out in front of her. As a result, the sole of boot landed right in the split of her suit, directly between Helen's breasts. Helen's large chest danced wildly from beneath her unsupportive suit as stumbled backward, almost as if in slow motion. Her head bowed forward, her mouth opening into an O shape as she sank back against the ropes. Marisol looked on for a second, again glancing out to find Hector, but still unable to see him.
Though in the middle of a match, she could not help but wonder where he was. Hector would never walk out of one of Marisol's matches, at least he had never before. Especially a match against a tough opponent, before such a large crowd. Marisol turned her attention back to the ailing Helen however, but Hector remained on her mind.
Marisol moved closer, and once again grabbed hold of Helen's wrist. This time she pulled her off of the ropes, while still looking out into the crowd. Helen looked quite different than she had to start the match. Her hair was strewn wildly about her head, and her silky skin was now red and marred with a few minor bruises. But the worst was not yet over.
Marisol once again used Helen's arm to fling her across the ring, this time aiming for the corner. Helen
Lumbered across the ring before her back smacked against the turnbuckles, her head snapping back upon impact. Marisol took her time, still searching in the crowd to find Hector. Finally, still unable to see him, she began to march across toward Helen.
The champion's body dangled out of the corner, her arms draped over the top rope on either side of her. But as Marisol reached her, Helen mustered the strength to thrust her legs up into the air, using the ropes as a means of leverage for her arms. Marisol was completely surprised as Helen's legs wrapped around her head in an effective head scissors.
But Helen had not yet finished the move. With her legs securely clamped around Marisol's head, she pushed her own body away from the ropes, which caused it to spin around Marisol, her head dropping to the floor. As Helen's shoulders hot the mat however, she thrust her legs upward, sending Marisol flipping across her body, and sending her sprawling to the mat.
The ovation was loud and boisterous, as the crowd cheered the heroic comeback of the champion. Marisol was a bit befuddled by the quick move, but recovered hastily and began to get to her feet. The reeling Helen also struggled to get to her feet, starting a race between the two women.
Marisol won, and as Helen got to both knees, Marisol had already gotten to her feet. The fiery Puerto Rican then charged at Helen, just as the champ got one foot on the mat, still kneeling on the other knee. Marsiol stormed up in front of her and reached down, grabbing a handful of Helen's hair. But the champ cocked her arm and delivered a straight right jab into the pit of Marisol's tummy, which was at eye level to the champ.
The punch backed Marisol up and she doubled over, but quickly recovered and again charged at Helen. This time however, Helen got her feet under her, and as Marisol reached down and grabbed her hair, Helen abruptly stood up, forcing her shoulders beneath Marisol and thereby lifting her up on them.
Marisol was shocked that she had been lifted off of the canvas, her body stretched across Helen's shoulders as the powerful brunette raised her arms and wrapped them around Marisol's body, securing her in place. It was a perfect Fireman's Carry and the crowd erupted at the achievement. Even Marisol was impressed by the move and the strength needed to pull it off. She had thought that Helen was weakened by the earlier attack, but she was proving why she was the champ.
Marisol kicked her legs and slapped her arm, trying to disrupt Helen's balance as much as possible, but the champion simply tightened her grip as she carried Marisol to the center of the ring. Helen then went into a pirouette, spinning herself around in order to dizzy her elevated prey. However after just a couple of revolutions, Helen found herself growing weary, and slowed to a halt before dumping Marisol off of her shoulders and dropping her to the canvas.
Marsiol landed with a loud THUD, her shoulder smashing painfully and awkwardly into the mat upon impact. Helen knew she could not give her adept adversary any time to recover however, and immediately reached down to resume her attack, grabbing hold of Marisol's right ankle. She then used it to roll Marisol onto her stomach, utilizing her control to buy herself some time to rest.
Helen was still suffering form Marisol's attack, even though she had fought through the pain to achieve the advantage she currently had. And so, while making sure she kept Marisol down, she also wanted to exert as little energy as possible in the process. So Helen positioned herself so that either foot was planted alongside the downed challenger. She still clutched tightly onto Marisol's ankle, pulling her leg up towards her. But then Helen reached down and grabbed Marisol's other ankle, and began to cross the trapped wrestler's legs, one over the other, before beginning to bend them back toward her body.
Marisol began to moan softly at first, but as Helen dropped down onto her back, bending her legs further in the process, the soft moans turned to harried squeals. Helen pushed down on Marisol's ankles, forcing her feet to descend down toward her butt and putting tremendous pressure on the challenger's knees and thigh muscles.
Marisol slapped the mat in front of her, unable to turn or break the hold. Helen had accomplished what she set out to do. Marisol was not only held down, but in a potential submission hold, and the champion had to exert very little strength to keep her that way. The crowd began to howl, realizing that Marisol could not hold on for long in such a painful hold, but Helen was very aware of adversary acumen, and was careful not to lose her edge.
Helen kept Marisol's legs curled in toward her for as long as she could. She realized however, that by sitting down on Marisol's feet, she could exert even more strain on Marisol's joints while exerting even less energy than she already was. So very carefully, she prepared to transfer the hold by repositioning her body.
She slid her rear end up from Marisol's back, slowly inching towards Marisol's feet. Then, satisfied that she was ready, Helen eased off on her grip just enough to slide her butt on top of Marisol's legs. But before she could plant her weight down, Marisol abruptly rolled her body onto it's side, knocking Helen off of her and freeing herself.
The crowd erupted at the resourceful escape, but Helen quickly rolled over and jumped to her feet before Marisol could react. Standing over the fallen Puerto Rican woman, Helen reached down and grabbed a handful of Marisol's long, red hair, yanking her violently up onto her feet. Marisol rose quickly, and just as she pulled erect, she whirled and sent a forearm smashing across the chest of the unsuspecting champion.
Helen stumbled back a step or two, startled by the quick and alert reprisal. But her expression quickly turned from shock to anger as she wound up and smashed her forearm into the crux of Marisol's neck, on the right side. Marisol's body pitched to the side slightly as Desiree looked on, but stood back form the action.
The beautiful referee was amazed at how clean the tactics of the two warriors had been up until this point. Desiree was usually as busy as the wrestlers whenever she worked one of Helen's matches, but she had not had to intervene at all, at least not until this point anyway. She looked on as the two seemed to have begun a sort of contest to see who could deliver the most powerful blow, and Marisol, still tipped to the side was not about to give up. She bent her right arm in toward her body and then, lunging herself upright, she sent a brutal Karate chop into Helen's ribs.
The champion bowed forward and snorted loudly, wrapping her arm around the wounded area. But as she covered her wounded ribs with one hand, she clenched her fingers together into a fist and then abruptly raised her arm into the air. Marisol looked up just as Helen began to drive her arm downward, aiming for Marisol's shoulder. But the impressive challenger quickly snatched hold of Helen's wrist, holding her arm up in the air as she delivered a quick but forceful chop into the champion's fully extended and previously wounded ribcage.
"AAAAAWWWWWWHHHHH"
Helen shrieked as her entire body folded in half and she instantly wrapped her arms around her chest. Marisol then raised her arms up, joined her hands into a fist, and delivered a powerful shot into Helen's back, knocking the champion to the mat. The crowd erupted, applauding the awesome display being put on by both wrestlers. But Helen was in serious trouble, and though Marisol paused momentarily to catch her breath, she knew it wouldn't be long before the challenger was on her again.
Marisol took a few deep breaths, once again scanning the crowd for any sign of Hector, but unsuccessful, she turned her attention back to Helen. Marisol scooped her off of the mat by the hair, a move which had become all too familiar to Helen. She then dragged the weary Helen into the corner, tossing her body back against the turnbuckles.
Both women were now completely exhausted, their bodies gleaming with perspiration. Marisol stared into Helen's eyes and the champion stared back, each noticing an unmistakable intensity in the other. Marisol then thrust her arm forward, placing the heel of her hand beneath Helen's chin, and powerfully forcing her head backward.
Helen's head began to dip backward as the challenger exerted more pressure, forcing Helen's back to arch. The strain on Helen's neck grew increasingly more unbearable with each second, her magnificent chest now jutting up into the air as she was curled backward. Helen grew desperate. She couldn't take much more, and knew she had to retaliate.
She quickly surveyed her options. She could probably thrust her fingers forward and try to scratch at Marisol's eyes, which would surely be an effective way to free herself. But incredibly, Helen did not want to win the match that way. She had come this far against the best the POWA had to offer, and she did not want to taint her crown by cheating in order to keep it.
So she decided to try and move her arm so that it was in position to deliver an uppercut into Marisol's gut, thereby allowing her to escape this torturous hold. So Helen moved her arm down to her side, but before she could deliver her punch, Marisol lifted her knee and drove it into the same spot on the left side of Helen's ribs which she had attacked several times earlier.
Helen's head shot forward as Marisol removed her hand from beneath the champion's chin.
"UUUUOOOOOHHHH"
Helen howled with pain as she dropped to one knee, bending in and covering her aching ribcage. Marisol moved in quickly however, grabbing hold of Helen's left wrist and pulling her arm up into the air. Helen kept her right arm wrapped around her ribs to protect them, but as Marisol yanked her right arm up higher, she could not protect herself anymore. And taking advantage of the opportunity, Marisol again drove her knee into the same spot, causing Helen to dip down again and cower together on one knee.
The crowd hooted and hollered, amazed at the amount of punishment the two women had exchanged to this point. Marsiol bent over and placed her hands on her knees, looking down at her abused opponent. She knew that the match was nearly over, and wanted to make sure that she put Helen away for good. So she took a few more moments to insure she was ready, and then went back to work.
She reached down and grabbed Helen's hair, pulling her up onto her feet again. She then walked her, almost like a dog, across the ring, pulling her along by the hair. Reaching the side ropes, Marisol forced Helen back against them, as the two now stood side to side. Both were breathing heavily, but before Helen could react, Marisol clutched onto Helen's wrists, ran forward, and then Irish Whipped Helen across the ring.
Helen mumbled across the ring, a bit wobbly, but still moving at a rapid pace. Marisol prepared to deliver a clothesline, but as Helen bounced off the ropes, she cupped her arms over the top one, and held herself back against them. Marisol was furious, and immediately stormed over to the dangling Helen, but the champion greeted her with a quick elbow to her own ribs.
The challenger was caught off guard, assuming Helen was finished, and not protecting herself as well as she should have. Nevertheless, she straightened up, only to have Helen again dig her knuckles into Marisol's ribs, just below her breast.
The crowd was not completely on their feet, cheering the epic battle. Marisol again straightened up, this time wrapping her arm over the top of Helen's head, and placing her in a front headlock. Helen wrapped one of her arms around Marisol's back, as she stood bent in front of her. Both women were now bowed forward and facing each other, Marisol on top of Helen, still holding her in the headlock.
Desiree ran over to check for a choke, but Helen's hair was covering her entire face, and it was impossible to see. So even though she suspected a choke, she decided to let the hold go, unable to confirm it. The match had been a clean one, and there was no reason for her to interfere at this point. The wrestlers should decide the outcome she decided.
The two gladiators remained in the clutch for quite awhile, each trying to recover before they moved on. Marisol did have her forearm wedged around Helen's throat, but she did not have the correct position to make the choke effective. Finally however, Helen gradually lifted her leg, and then forcefully stomped her boot down onto Marisol's knee, buckling the challenger's leg in the process.
Marisol squealed, further loosening her grip, but still not freeing Helen's head. Helen took a couple of quick breaths, but debated her next move. She knew what she wanted to do, but it was risky. If she were able to pull it off, she would win the match. But if not, she would surely lose.
She tried desperately to replenish the oxygen in her body as she debated what to do. Finally, she decided to go for it, win or lose. So she took a few more breaths and then held it before she continued. With one loud grunt, she again stomped down on Marisol's knee, and the challenger's leg bent inward, almost as if made of rubber. In turn, that forced Marisol to release the choke, thereby freeing Helen.
She lifted her head up just enough so that she was now looking down at Marisol's back, which was bent in front of her. Helen then wrapped her arms around Marisol's waist, and with a tribal scream, hoisted her opponent's body upward by pulling her arms in toward her body, compressing Marisol's midsection.
The crowd worked themselves into a frenzy as Marisol's feet lifted off of the canvas, her head and arms dropping toward the floor as Helen continued to heave her body upward. Helen was obviously struggling to keep her balance, and mustering every ounce of strength she had left, but she was finally able to lift Marisol completely upright, her body parallel to the mat and resting across Helen's right shoulder.
Marisol was completely confused and dizzied by the move as she stared up into the bright spotlights overhead. Her knee was throbbing terribly, but she had worse things to worry about right now. Helen wrapped her right arm up and around Marisol's waist, insuring that she remained where she wanted her.
She then began to slowly and awkwardly walk near the center of the ring, stumbling and struggling to maintain her balance.
It took a short while for Helen to shuffle the few feet, but she finally reached the center of the ring, Marisol still lying flatly across her shoulder. Helen then paused for a few moments, her awesome body trembling form the strain of holding Marisol horizontally. She steadied herself, keeping her balance and breathing to stay calm, as the crowd was anything but calm.
Helen then took one final breath, held it, and then jumped into the air. Marisol's eyes widened, realizing what was about to come. As Helen's feet landed on the mat, Marisol's sturdy body bent painfully in half, almost snapping in two. Her long, red hair danced about her head as her back arched in a frightful manner.
She was left dangling off of Helen's shoulder, her arms hanging limply off of her body, her legs motionless.
But Helen then slid Marisol forward, so that the crippled challenger's body slid down the front of her own, until Helen was able to wrap her own arms around Marisol's midsection, now holding her in an upended, vertical position. The crowd was uncontrollable, as they screamed, cheered, hollered and carried on. Helen jostled Marisol's inverted body while securing her grip, squeezing her arms tightly around Marisol's taut tummy.
The challenger was in agony, her back ablaze with pain as she stared in front of her at the upside down mass of cheering fans. But before she knew what hit her, she felt her body drop rapidly toward the canvas, and her head was driving painfully against it, as Helen completed the second phase of the maneuver, a powerful Pile Driver. Marisol tumbled over and fell flat against the mat, completely debilitated. The roars were deafening as Helen slowly stood erect and looked down at her conquered opposition.
Marisol was laying face down, her body twitching slightly, but no other movement obvious. Helen felt no remorse, but surprisingly, she felt no contempt, no animosity. Even though Marisol had hurt her and hurt her good, Helen realized that the war was now over.
She stepped closer to Marisol, and then using her foot, pushed her over onto her back. Marisol's eyes were open, and she was breathing heavily, but she did not move. Helen knelt down next to her and placed her hands on top of Marisol's shoulders as Desiree moved in and proceeded to count the challenger out.
The cheers grew louder with each number, but as Desiree reached ten, the entire arena was on their feet, cheering the incredible contest. Helen slowly pushed herself up onto her feet as Desiree grabbed her wrist and raised her hand over her head.
"I got to admit Helen, I don't like you very much. But that was some match!"
Desiree turned to see Helen's reaction to her remark, but Helen ignored it as she turned to all four sides of the ring, her majestic body on display, bruised but not beaten. Helen's celebration was subdued as she bent forward, placing her hands on her hips to catch her breath and savor the moment. While the crowd was going crazy, Helen was calm. She remained hunched over for a minute or so, and then thrust her arm into the air, only to feel a sharp pain form her bruised ribs.
She then walked over to where Marisol lay, looked down at her for a moment, and then put her hand out, offering to help her up. Marisol stared at Helen's hand for a moment, but then grasped it, accepting the assistance. The crowd cheered as the two gladiators stood next to each other, neither saying a word. Marisol then turned and walked toward the corner, leaving Helen in the center of the ring. She had no chance of finding Hector now she thought, as she looked out into the cheering throng before being helped back to the locker room.
Helen meanwhile savored the last of the cheers as Marisol was helped out of the ring. She then gave a last wave to the crowd before climbing out of the ring herself. She had won lots of new fans with her toughness and awesome display of wrestling prowess and determination tonight. But right now, the ony thing that interested her was checking on Fire to see if she was okay, and then dropping her aching muscles in a hot bubblebath!
