TheCrimsonRisk
Ryonani Teamster
- Joined
- Jun 10, 2010
It's about time I wrote something about Blair Dame, one of my favourite video game babes of all time. She's not well-known and if you asked someone to name 100 Street Fighter characters, she probably still wouldn't make the list. So that was some of the inspiration for this story.
What happens to the aspiring World Warriors who don't have what it takes to make it to the big show? And are too stubborn to give up?
Art by the incredible ColorVirus! Cannot recommend their work highly enough. Check out their very reasonable commission rates and treat yourself sometime
And make sure to follow them on DeviantArt.
Blair Dame - The Wannabe World Warrior
Sadly, Blair had gotten used to disappointment.
For years, she’d been trying to break into the major leagues, to join the ranks of The World Warriors that she so deeply admired. But even with the resources she’d inherited as the only child of a wealthy family and some of the best trainers in the world, time and time again Blair failed. Maybe it was mental. Maybe it was bad luck. Or maybe she just wasn’t good enough.
It definitely appeared to be the latter in her matchup with the infamous Black Widow, a star in the Capcom Wrestling Association. The two were squaring off in the opening round of a lower-level tournament, one of several that fighters like Blair had to go through to reach even the fringes of the World Warrior circuit. Widow only dabbled in street fighting, but even a part-timer like her was too much for Blair. Yes, Blair was at somewhat of a disadvantage having to fight Widow in a wrestling ring, but given how the contest unfolded, they could have met in Blair’s personal gym and the blue-haired beauty would still have been creamed.
From the moment the two women stepped into the ring, the crowd was in awe of Widow’s physique. There was a time when she had to perform in secret and disguise her gender with a full body suit, but ever since she’d revealed her true identity and been permitted to compete in the men’s division, she’d eschewed her former look for a simple black and red leotard with nothing to cover her incredible biceps and legs. The brunette’s arms rippled with every flex and her thighs looked like she was smuggling two tank cannon shells.
Blair drew plenty of eyeballs herself, especially from the men who ogled her in her skin-tight white one-piece outfit and long, dark blue gloves and stockings. But she had grown to resent that kind of attention, even though she knew that she oozed sex appeal. Whenever she read anything about herself online-what little there was to read anyway-it was typically comments from creepy fans talking about how hot she was as opposed to saying anything about her fighting skills. That wasn’t going to change with her poor performance against Widow.
Not only was the wrestler too strong for Blair, she somehow had a speed advantage too despite looking like she was at least 20-30 heavier. And when it came to skill, forget about it. Widow was two steps ahead of Blair in every exchange.
Blair threw a punch and Widow caught her arm and threw her hard to the canvas. Blair threw a kick and Widow easily swept her leg out from under her before pouncing on Blair and battering her with ground-and-pound punches. Blair tried to grapple and attack with submissions and Widow simply overpowered her. In one particularly nasty sequence, Widow countered a triangle choke attempt by lifting Blair into the air and cracking her over her knee with a backbreaker. It was an absolute massacre.
After the first five minutes, everyone but Blair could already see that her defeat was imminent. The wannabe World Warrior was on Bambi legs as she raised her fists up, her arms heavy as lead, a sitting duck for whatever Widow wanted to do next.
Blair’s beautiful ass stuck out behind her as Widow drilled her with a knee to the midsection, then bent her over to put her in position for a piledriver. There’d be no comeback for Blair if Widow managed to spike her skull straight into the mat. She knew she was in danger and had to act fast.
Acting purely on instinct, Blair tensed up as much as she could to make herself heavy and throw off Widow’s balance. Wrestling was not her specialty, but she’d seen enough of it to figure out a few basic counters. Blair figured her best shot here was to force Widow to gas out those muscles attempting to deadlift her and then maybe find a second wind to turn this around.
At first, it seemed to work. Widow’s muscles visibly strained as she tried to lift Blair up not once, but twice, neither time managing to do more than get Blair’s legs kicking a couple of feet off the ground. Blair braced herself for a third try, not realizing that Widow was about to change tactics and end her.
The wrestler’s powerful thighs suddenly bulged, indicating clearly to everyone watching that she was now putting the squeeze on her prey. Blair realized it right away too, she just couldn’t do anything about it.
“Oh no! No!” Blair said as her hands started to fight Widow’s legs, the loud smacking slapping just making Widow laugh.
“That’s right my little loser, fight, try to survive this,” Widow said. “I love it when they struggle.”
Widow brought her arms around Blair’s waist, curling her biceps to really crush whatever hope Blair had left. She eased up when she felt Blair going limp though, not wanting to knock her out so quickly. The sensation of Blair’s head grinding between her legs was pure ecstasy.
With Blair’s defeat all but assured, Widow decided she could afford to mess around. Keeping one arm coiled around Blair’s body, she reached forward with her free hand and began to playfully pluck the rear of the poor girl’s leotard. The material repeatedly rebounded with a satisfying smack as it clung desperately to Blair’s rear end, though Widow made sure to give it at least one good tug so that fans could be treated to the sight of the rich girl having to endure a humiliating forced wedgie.
Blair’s arms soon went limp, one stiffening up and falling dead under her trembling body, the other twisted as it rested lamely on Widow’s leg. Her boots had been kicking against the mat, but soon they also fell still, with only the occasional twitch serving to show that Blair was still vaguely conscious.
A cameraman made sure to move into position to get a perfect shot of Blair’s beautiful face, which was dim and dull as the last few puffs of air escaped from her nose. One eye was almost completely shut while the other pathetically flickered. The crowd cheered and jeered as they watched the image projected onto one of the large screens in the venue.
“mm… mnnnnnh…” Blair whimpered, unable to even offer a word of defiance.
The last thing Blair heard before she passed out was the sound of the crowd taunting her, careless voices laughing and saying things like “What a jobber!” It was a demeaning insult, one that Blair had done nothing to disprove.
Widow released the hold when the bell rang, though she took her time doing it, her fingers lingering on the spandex before finally letting Blair go free. It wasn’t much of a mercy as Blair was soon left alone in the ring, her drooling face resting on one cheek and her ass sticking up in the air behind her.
Blair’s slumber would eventually be interrupted by attendants entering the ring to scrape her from the canvas, but while she slept, she could at least enjoy a dream in which she actually became a respected World Warrior. A dream that had become all the more remote with this latest embarrassment.
What happens to the aspiring World Warriors who don't have what it takes to make it to the big show? And are too stubborn to give up?
Art by the incredible ColorVirus! Cannot recommend their work highly enough. Check out their very reasonable commission rates and treat yourself sometime
And make sure to follow them on DeviantArt.Blair Dame - The Wannabe World Warrior
Sadly, Blair had gotten used to disappointment.
For years, she’d been trying to break into the major leagues, to join the ranks of The World Warriors that she so deeply admired. But even with the resources she’d inherited as the only child of a wealthy family and some of the best trainers in the world, time and time again Blair failed. Maybe it was mental. Maybe it was bad luck. Or maybe she just wasn’t good enough.
It definitely appeared to be the latter in her matchup with the infamous Black Widow, a star in the Capcom Wrestling Association. The two were squaring off in the opening round of a lower-level tournament, one of several that fighters like Blair had to go through to reach even the fringes of the World Warrior circuit. Widow only dabbled in street fighting, but even a part-timer like her was too much for Blair. Yes, Blair was at somewhat of a disadvantage having to fight Widow in a wrestling ring, but given how the contest unfolded, they could have met in Blair’s personal gym and the blue-haired beauty would still have been creamed.
From the moment the two women stepped into the ring, the crowd was in awe of Widow’s physique. There was a time when she had to perform in secret and disguise her gender with a full body suit, but ever since she’d revealed her true identity and been permitted to compete in the men’s division, she’d eschewed her former look for a simple black and red leotard with nothing to cover her incredible biceps and legs. The brunette’s arms rippled with every flex and her thighs looked like she was smuggling two tank cannon shells.
Blair drew plenty of eyeballs herself, especially from the men who ogled her in her skin-tight white one-piece outfit and long, dark blue gloves and stockings. But she had grown to resent that kind of attention, even though she knew that she oozed sex appeal. Whenever she read anything about herself online-what little there was to read anyway-it was typically comments from creepy fans talking about how hot she was as opposed to saying anything about her fighting skills. That wasn’t going to change with her poor performance against Widow.
Not only was the wrestler too strong for Blair, she somehow had a speed advantage too despite looking like she was at least 20-30 heavier. And when it came to skill, forget about it. Widow was two steps ahead of Blair in every exchange.
Blair threw a punch and Widow caught her arm and threw her hard to the canvas. Blair threw a kick and Widow easily swept her leg out from under her before pouncing on Blair and battering her with ground-and-pound punches. Blair tried to grapple and attack with submissions and Widow simply overpowered her. In one particularly nasty sequence, Widow countered a triangle choke attempt by lifting Blair into the air and cracking her over her knee with a backbreaker. It was an absolute massacre.
After the first five minutes, everyone but Blair could already see that her defeat was imminent. The wannabe World Warrior was on Bambi legs as she raised her fists up, her arms heavy as lead, a sitting duck for whatever Widow wanted to do next.
Blair’s beautiful ass stuck out behind her as Widow drilled her with a knee to the midsection, then bent her over to put her in position for a piledriver. There’d be no comeback for Blair if Widow managed to spike her skull straight into the mat. She knew she was in danger and had to act fast.
Acting purely on instinct, Blair tensed up as much as she could to make herself heavy and throw off Widow’s balance. Wrestling was not her specialty, but she’d seen enough of it to figure out a few basic counters. Blair figured her best shot here was to force Widow to gas out those muscles attempting to deadlift her and then maybe find a second wind to turn this around.
At first, it seemed to work. Widow’s muscles visibly strained as she tried to lift Blair up not once, but twice, neither time managing to do more than get Blair’s legs kicking a couple of feet off the ground. Blair braced herself for a third try, not realizing that Widow was about to change tactics and end her.
The wrestler’s powerful thighs suddenly bulged, indicating clearly to everyone watching that she was now putting the squeeze on her prey. Blair realized it right away too, she just couldn’t do anything about it.
“Oh no! No!” Blair said as her hands started to fight Widow’s legs, the loud smacking slapping just making Widow laugh.
“That’s right my little loser, fight, try to survive this,” Widow said. “I love it when they struggle.”
Widow brought her arms around Blair’s waist, curling her biceps to really crush whatever hope Blair had left. She eased up when she felt Blair going limp though, not wanting to knock her out so quickly. The sensation of Blair’s head grinding between her legs was pure ecstasy.
With Blair’s defeat all but assured, Widow decided she could afford to mess around. Keeping one arm coiled around Blair’s body, she reached forward with her free hand and began to playfully pluck the rear of the poor girl’s leotard. The material repeatedly rebounded with a satisfying smack as it clung desperately to Blair’s rear end, though Widow made sure to give it at least one good tug so that fans could be treated to the sight of the rich girl having to endure a humiliating forced wedgie.
Blair’s arms soon went limp, one stiffening up and falling dead under her trembling body, the other twisted as it rested lamely on Widow’s leg. Her boots had been kicking against the mat, but soon they also fell still, with only the occasional twitch serving to show that Blair was still vaguely conscious.
A cameraman made sure to move into position to get a perfect shot of Blair’s beautiful face, which was dim and dull as the last few puffs of air escaped from her nose. One eye was almost completely shut while the other pathetically flickered. The crowd cheered and jeered as they watched the image projected onto one of the large screens in the venue.
“mm… mnnnnnh…” Blair whimpered, unable to even offer a word of defiance.
The last thing Blair heard before she passed out was the sound of the crowd taunting her, careless voices laughing and saying things like “What a jobber!” It was a demeaning insult, one that Blair had done nothing to disprove.
Widow released the hold when the bell rang, though she took her time doing it, her fingers lingering on the spandex before finally letting Blair go free. It wasn’t much of a mercy as Blair was soon left alone in the ring, her drooling face resting on one cheek and her ass sticking up in the air behind her.
Blair’s slumber would eventually be interrupted by attendants entering the ring to scrape her from the canvas, but while she slept, she could at least enjoy a dream in which she actually became a respected World Warrior. A dream that had become all the more remote with this latest embarrassment.
