TheCrimsonRisk
Ryonani Teamster
- Joined
- Jun 10, 2010
Tales From The Wrestling Lounge - Return of the Queen (Isabella vs. Rene)
Here's a little writing for you, just an homage to the old Wrestling Lounge website which went down ages ago and unfortunately, there does not appear to be an archive of their videos or pics. I've saved what I could and as I was going through old videos, there was one particular matchup that always appealed to me, Rene beating up Isabella. So here is my attempt to put words to this narrative I constructed in my head.
I'm thinking this will be the start of a series focusing on this rivalry, but I may end up writing about other girls if it tickles my fancy. Could also be a one-off, so let's just see how it goes, eh?
At the very least, there are some low-res screenshots for you to enjoy!
-----
They warned her not to take the match, but Isabella wouldn’t listen. She was always stubborn like that.
It had been four months since Isabella last competed at the Wrestling Lounge-a small, apartment-based company located in a corner of Paris-and she was eager to reassess the lay of the land. When she had left, she was the undisputed queen of the castle as it were, having pinned or submitted all of the other girls on multiple occasions. It was one of the reasons she’d taken a break. She was burnt out and she sought new challenges. At least that was the plan, anyway.
In reality, Isabella had not been in a single wrestling match since going on leave. Yes, she had stayed in fine form, running and cycling daily to keep her lovely body tight and sculpted. But as far as actual combat, she was out of practice, and the other wrestlers knew it. Most of them were her friends, even the ones she’d beaten, and the first thing they told her when she returned was not to cross Rene.
That was the new top girl at the Wrestling Lounge. A mean-spirited Frenchwoman, Rene had arrived shortly after Isabella’s departure and quickly ripped through the roster. It wasn’t just her size and strength, there was a sharpness to her movements, a dedication to inflicting pain that made her almost impossible to beat. She’d even injured a couple of her opponents, though she swore it was an accident.
Emile, the company’s producer, didn’t like to see his girls hurt, but Rene’s videos were selling well. She still hadn’t topped the numbers of Isabella, as the Italian beauty’s captivating dominance was unmatched, so he was thrilled when she came back and even more thrilled at the idea of matching the two wrestlers up. He knew it wouldn’t take much to stoke Isabella’s competitive fires and the mere mention of Rene having taken her throne in her absence had her demanding that the matchup be arranged.
And so it was that the two were booked to meet on a Saturday evening in the Wrestling Lounge room, a plain area with a bland gray carpet and white blinds to provide the most basic privacy. Plants and a black leather couch were pushed back against one of the walls to make room for the performers and one stationary camera. Another handheld camera was manned by Emile, who also acted as an unofficial referee, though typically the women were left to handle the resolution of the match themselves. As one could imagine, the potential for humiliation was high.
When Isabella went to change, she found her favourite green leotard was missing. It dawned upon her that Rene may have been responsible, which put a smirk on her face. If Rene was having to resort to childish tricks already, then maybe Isabella was in her head. She settled for a light blue one-piece that clung to her delicate, curvy frame, and dark blue wrestling shoes.
Isabella stepped out and did a quick twirl for the cameras, the spandex emphasizing her shapely rear, her shoulder-length brown hair drifting flirtatiously around her face. The barebones set up didn’t leave much room for showmanship, but she made do. The amateurish, intimate atmosphere was part of the appeal of these matches and she knew there were a lot of horny guys (and girls!) out there who would eat this up.
She’d seen pictures of Rene, but Isabella still found herself staring when the beautiful, but brawny wrestler entered the room. Rene wore white shoes and a red onesie that emphasized her thick thighs. Her black hair was tied into a loose ponytail, giving her a slightly more business-like look. An intricate tribal tattoo on her right arm also caught Isabella’s eye, a decoration that was in stark contrast to the cute pattern of stars that Isabella had on her inner thigh.
There was no official signal to lock up, the girls just knew when it was time. They met in the center of the room and immediately started to slap and grip at each other’s shoulders, neither giving an inch. Once Rene got a firm hold of Isabella’s triceps, Isabella could feel the Frenchwoman’s strength. It was greater than any of the other girls Isabella had wrestled and she tried not to show the strain that was already building up in her muscles.
“Quel est le problème?” Rene asked. “What’s wrong, Isabella? You are shaking.”
Isabella didn’t respond, only gritting her teeth and shifting her body weight to try to gain the advantage. It was like moving a boulder. Was Rene that much stronger? Had the months of inactivity robbed Isabella’s muscles of their explosiveness? It had never been this easy to overpower the other wrestlers. But it had never been this hard either.
They jockeyed for position for about a minute before Rene relaxed, which briefly threw Isabella off balance, then she tensed up again and twisted her hips to dump Isabella to the floor. It was not a position that Isabella was used to.
As she reached up to snatch at Rene, the larger girl took Isabella’s wrist and wrenched it awkwardly behind Isabella’s head, forcing her into a sitting position.
“Aaaah!” Isabella yelped. Again, this sound was something unfamiliar to her. It was usually her opponents who were awkwardly expressing their discomfort this early in the match. She reached back with her left arm to try and grab at her opponent, but Rene simply stepped over it and trapped it between her thigh and the back of her knee. Her foot came to a rest against the inside of Isabella’s left leg, causing Isabella to spread out slightly.
Emile made sure to get a good shot of this, his former star shouting in pain, her blue leotard starting to sneak up between her legs. Rene moved her hand onto Isabella’s elbow now, bending it an even more extreme angle and putting her victim into a modified abdominal stretch. The strain was felt in Isabella’s shoulder, neck, torso, and groin.
“AAAAAAAH!!!!” she screamed even louder as the hold was sunk in. When she stopped, the cameras would pick up the sound of Rene cackling at having taken control of Isabella so easily.
Not only was Isabella rusty, she had no concept of how to fight from behind. She was always the aggressor.
“Not so easy when they don’t just lie down for you, is it?” Rene taunted, seeming to sense Isabella’s growing doubt.
Rene was having fun, but she wanted to show that she could end this match whenever she wanted. Pin, submission, perhaps even a knockout. All the wicked possibilities ran through her mind. She released the elaborate stretch and wrapped her bicep around Isabella’s chin, cranking on her neck before lowering her arm down into a borderline choke.
Isabella gagged and flailed, reaching back aimlessly without any actual plan of how to escape. She could feel Rene’s hot breath on her neck as the girl leaned on her, keeping her planted on her ass. It wasn’t long before Isabella felt lightheaded, the chokehold working its magic.
As Isabella drifted into unconsciousness, Rene winked at Emile to let him know that she wasn’t going to end the punishment so soon. He tried not to smile, though his excitement was evident just by staring at the bulge in his pants. It wasn’t clear whether it was the sight of Isabella being tortured or how the sales of this clip would bolster his bank account that had him so aroused.
Isabella’s body was nearly limp when Rene shoved her off. The dazed Isabella fell face first onto the carpet, barely registering what was happening. She certainly wasn’t cognizant of the growing wedgie at her backside.
More giggling came from Rene’s mouth as she slithered along the rear of Isabella’s body before settling down into a seated position on her back.
“The other girls, they tell me you have never been put in this hold before,” Rene said as she reached forward to dig her fingers into Isabella’s shoulders and bend her body back. “I wonder, will you like the camel clutch as much when it is put on you?”
As Isabella’s senses came back to her, she realized what Rene was saying and started to struggle. It was too late. Her arms were positioned so that they were resting on Rene’s thighs and then Rene completed the spine-wrenching hold by clasping her hands under Isabella’s chin.
“UNNNNNNHHH!” Isabella’s screams were muffled now. Her back loudly groaned after being in the hold for a little more than 10 seconds and for the first time ever, she feared she might submit. Rene was having the time of her life, grinding her crotch into Isabella’s back and smothering her pretty mouth. She made sure to keep adjusting her grip, alternating between making it hard for Isabella to breathe and putting so much pressure on Isabella’s mouth that she feared her jaw might break.
“Do you give up?” Rene asked.
It was at this moment Isabella became acutely aware that they were being recorded. Normally, this was something she enjoyed as she was always the one in control; now, the thought of an anonymous audience basking in her destruction was almost enough to make her cry. With what pride she had left, she held on, not giving Rene the satisfaction of a submission even though she knew that this meant more footage of her suffering in the camel clutch.
Finally, Rene released the hold. Isabella’s sweaty, defeated body lay on the carpet, hardly moving. She hadn’t given up, but it was obvious she was done for.
“Comment finir?” Rene said. “So many possibilités…”
“Just… just you wait…” Isabella responded weakly. “Once I get my strength back, I’ll… I’ll…”
Rene didn’t wait for Isabella to finish. She turned Isabella over like a flopping fish and then grabbed her ankles before stepping over to her head, forcing Isabella to fold in half. A quick adjustment of her grip allowed Rene to have complete control, holding Isabella’s shoes by the side of her head.
“Stop… stop!” Isabella whined.
“Tu ne peux pax m’arrêter,” Rene said. “You can’t stop me. And this is only the beginning.”
Isabella wasn’t sure what Rene meant by that, but she was right. Rene was having her way with her. Making use of Isabella’s flexibility, Rene pushed down on her ankles so that she was folded even more, then she stepped over to trap Isabella’s legs behind her own. She then cruelly sat down, and leaned back, locking Isabella into an absurd and inescapable pinning predicament.
“No, no, no! Please!” Isabella begged. Not only was she pinned down, her already aching back was screaming from being bent unnaturally in the other direction. She blinked back warm tears, then winced as she saw that her face was nearly being stuffed into her own crotch.
“Un…deux…trois…quatre…” Rene started counting a pinfall in French before switching to English. “…five…six…seven…eight…nine…10…11…” The count went on and on. She could have counted to 100. Isabella wasn’t going anywhere.
The stationary camera was capturing all of this perfectly, but Emile made sure to step right in front of the wrestlers to get a close-up shot of the helpless Isabella. Her legs spread, her skintight leotard pinching her thighs, her ass up in the air, her face scrunched up in embarrassment. Emile was already imagining how leaking a shot of this would lead to unprecedented sales.
“No… no…” Isabella muttered as reality set in.
“Renoncez! Give up, stupid,” Rene said. “I am bored of this.”
Isabella could take the pain. She could accept being pinned. But being stuck in this position, with Rene laughing at her and Emile coldly filming her absolute destruction, it was too much. She weakly tapped at Rene’s legs and then uttered the fateful words that she hoped would end the contest.
“I give up. I give up, please, Rene,” Isabella said. “Please let me go.” Her voice cracked slightly as she shut her eyes and waited for the match to be over.
Rene only held on for a few more seconds before sliding off of Isabella, letting the girl’s body naturally settle down. It took some time until Isabella was flat on her back and even then, she willfully turned to her side and brought her knees to her chest in a fetal position. Rene did not even bother posing over her, instead turning to wink at the camera and departing. The footage ended there.
The next few moments were a blur for Isabella, who was helped to one of the washrooms by another wrestler. She was sore all over and was on auto-pilot as she undressed to step into the shower, which provided her little comfort. Being defeated so soundly, it was like a nightmare, an out-of-body experience. However, the tears and sweat being washed from her face and body were all too real, and she knew when she woke up the next morning, her body would remind her of the beating she had received at the hands of Rene.
Here's a little writing for you, just an homage to the old Wrestling Lounge website which went down ages ago and unfortunately, there does not appear to be an archive of their videos or pics. I've saved what I could and as I was going through old videos, there was one particular matchup that always appealed to me, Rene beating up Isabella. So here is my attempt to put words to this narrative I constructed in my head.
I'm thinking this will be the start of a series focusing on this rivalry, but I may end up writing about other girls if it tickles my fancy. Could also be a one-off, so let's just see how it goes, eh?
At the very least, there are some low-res screenshots for you to enjoy!
-----
They warned her not to take the match, but Isabella wouldn’t listen. She was always stubborn like that.
It had been four months since Isabella last competed at the Wrestling Lounge-a small, apartment-based company located in a corner of Paris-and she was eager to reassess the lay of the land. When she had left, she was the undisputed queen of the castle as it were, having pinned or submitted all of the other girls on multiple occasions. It was one of the reasons she’d taken a break. She was burnt out and she sought new challenges. At least that was the plan, anyway.
In reality, Isabella had not been in a single wrestling match since going on leave. Yes, she had stayed in fine form, running and cycling daily to keep her lovely body tight and sculpted. But as far as actual combat, she was out of practice, and the other wrestlers knew it. Most of them were her friends, even the ones she’d beaten, and the first thing they told her when she returned was not to cross Rene.
That was the new top girl at the Wrestling Lounge. A mean-spirited Frenchwoman, Rene had arrived shortly after Isabella’s departure and quickly ripped through the roster. It wasn’t just her size and strength, there was a sharpness to her movements, a dedication to inflicting pain that made her almost impossible to beat. She’d even injured a couple of her opponents, though she swore it was an accident.
Emile, the company’s producer, didn’t like to see his girls hurt, but Rene’s videos were selling well. She still hadn’t topped the numbers of Isabella, as the Italian beauty’s captivating dominance was unmatched, so he was thrilled when she came back and even more thrilled at the idea of matching the two wrestlers up. He knew it wouldn’t take much to stoke Isabella’s competitive fires and the mere mention of Rene having taken her throne in her absence had her demanding that the matchup be arranged.
And so it was that the two were booked to meet on a Saturday evening in the Wrestling Lounge room, a plain area with a bland gray carpet and white blinds to provide the most basic privacy. Plants and a black leather couch were pushed back against one of the walls to make room for the performers and one stationary camera. Another handheld camera was manned by Emile, who also acted as an unofficial referee, though typically the women were left to handle the resolution of the match themselves. As one could imagine, the potential for humiliation was high.
When Isabella went to change, she found her favourite green leotard was missing. It dawned upon her that Rene may have been responsible, which put a smirk on her face. If Rene was having to resort to childish tricks already, then maybe Isabella was in her head. She settled for a light blue one-piece that clung to her delicate, curvy frame, and dark blue wrestling shoes.
Isabella stepped out and did a quick twirl for the cameras, the spandex emphasizing her shapely rear, her shoulder-length brown hair drifting flirtatiously around her face. The barebones set up didn’t leave much room for showmanship, but she made do. The amateurish, intimate atmosphere was part of the appeal of these matches and she knew there were a lot of horny guys (and girls!) out there who would eat this up.
She’d seen pictures of Rene, but Isabella still found herself staring when the beautiful, but brawny wrestler entered the room. Rene wore white shoes and a red onesie that emphasized her thick thighs. Her black hair was tied into a loose ponytail, giving her a slightly more business-like look. An intricate tribal tattoo on her right arm also caught Isabella’s eye, a decoration that was in stark contrast to the cute pattern of stars that Isabella had on her inner thigh.
There was no official signal to lock up, the girls just knew when it was time. They met in the center of the room and immediately started to slap and grip at each other’s shoulders, neither giving an inch. Once Rene got a firm hold of Isabella’s triceps, Isabella could feel the Frenchwoman’s strength. It was greater than any of the other girls Isabella had wrestled and she tried not to show the strain that was already building up in her muscles.
“Quel est le problème?” Rene asked. “What’s wrong, Isabella? You are shaking.”
Isabella didn’t respond, only gritting her teeth and shifting her body weight to try to gain the advantage. It was like moving a boulder. Was Rene that much stronger? Had the months of inactivity robbed Isabella’s muscles of their explosiveness? It had never been this easy to overpower the other wrestlers. But it had never been this hard either.
They jockeyed for position for about a minute before Rene relaxed, which briefly threw Isabella off balance, then she tensed up again and twisted her hips to dump Isabella to the floor. It was not a position that Isabella was used to.
As she reached up to snatch at Rene, the larger girl took Isabella’s wrist and wrenched it awkwardly behind Isabella’s head, forcing her into a sitting position.
“Aaaah!” Isabella yelped. Again, this sound was something unfamiliar to her. It was usually her opponents who were awkwardly expressing their discomfort this early in the match. She reached back with her left arm to try and grab at her opponent, but Rene simply stepped over it and trapped it between her thigh and the back of her knee. Her foot came to a rest against the inside of Isabella’s left leg, causing Isabella to spread out slightly.
Emile made sure to get a good shot of this, his former star shouting in pain, her blue leotard starting to sneak up between her legs. Rene moved her hand onto Isabella’s elbow now, bending it an even more extreme angle and putting her victim into a modified abdominal stretch. The strain was felt in Isabella’s shoulder, neck, torso, and groin.
“AAAAAAAH!!!!” she screamed even louder as the hold was sunk in. When she stopped, the cameras would pick up the sound of Rene cackling at having taken control of Isabella so easily.
Not only was Isabella rusty, she had no concept of how to fight from behind. She was always the aggressor.
“Not so easy when they don’t just lie down for you, is it?” Rene taunted, seeming to sense Isabella’s growing doubt.
Rene was having fun, but she wanted to show that she could end this match whenever she wanted. Pin, submission, perhaps even a knockout. All the wicked possibilities ran through her mind. She released the elaborate stretch and wrapped her bicep around Isabella’s chin, cranking on her neck before lowering her arm down into a borderline choke.
Isabella gagged and flailed, reaching back aimlessly without any actual plan of how to escape. She could feel Rene’s hot breath on her neck as the girl leaned on her, keeping her planted on her ass. It wasn’t long before Isabella felt lightheaded, the chokehold working its magic.
As Isabella drifted into unconsciousness, Rene winked at Emile to let him know that she wasn’t going to end the punishment so soon. He tried not to smile, though his excitement was evident just by staring at the bulge in his pants. It wasn’t clear whether it was the sight of Isabella being tortured or how the sales of this clip would bolster his bank account that had him so aroused.
Isabella’s body was nearly limp when Rene shoved her off. The dazed Isabella fell face first onto the carpet, barely registering what was happening. She certainly wasn’t cognizant of the growing wedgie at her backside.
More giggling came from Rene’s mouth as she slithered along the rear of Isabella’s body before settling down into a seated position on her back.
“The other girls, they tell me you have never been put in this hold before,” Rene said as she reached forward to dig her fingers into Isabella’s shoulders and bend her body back. “I wonder, will you like the camel clutch as much when it is put on you?”
As Isabella’s senses came back to her, she realized what Rene was saying and started to struggle. It was too late. Her arms were positioned so that they were resting on Rene’s thighs and then Rene completed the spine-wrenching hold by clasping her hands under Isabella’s chin.
“UNNNNNNHHH!” Isabella’s screams were muffled now. Her back loudly groaned after being in the hold for a little more than 10 seconds and for the first time ever, she feared she might submit. Rene was having the time of her life, grinding her crotch into Isabella’s back and smothering her pretty mouth. She made sure to keep adjusting her grip, alternating between making it hard for Isabella to breathe and putting so much pressure on Isabella’s mouth that she feared her jaw might break.
“Do you give up?” Rene asked.
It was at this moment Isabella became acutely aware that they were being recorded. Normally, this was something she enjoyed as she was always the one in control; now, the thought of an anonymous audience basking in her destruction was almost enough to make her cry. With what pride she had left, she held on, not giving Rene the satisfaction of a submission even though she knew that this meant more footage of her suffering in the camel clutch.
Finally, Rene released the hold. Isabella’s sweaty, defeated body lay on the carpet, hardly moving. She hadn’t given up, but it was obvious she was done for.
“Comment finir?” Rene said. “So many possibilités…”
“Just… just you wait…” Isabella responded weakly. “Once I get my strength back, I’ll… I’ll…”
Rene didn’t wait for Isabella to finish. She turned Isabella over like a flopping fish and then grabbed her ankles before stepping over to her head, forcing Isabella to fold in half. A quick adjustment of her grip allowed Rene to have complete control, holding Isabella’s shoes by the side of her head.
“Stop… stop!” Isabella whined.
“Tu ne peux pax m’arrêter,” Rene said. “You can’t stop me. And this is only the beginning.”
Isabella wasn’t sure what Rene meant by that, but she was right. Rene was having her way with her. Making use of Isabella’s flexibility, Rene pushed down on her ankles so that she was folded even more, then she stepped over to trap Isabella’s legs behind her own. She then cruelly sat down, and leaned back, locking Isabella into an absurd and inescapable pinning predicament.
“No, no, no! Please!” Isabella begged. Not only was she pinned down, her already aching back was screaming from being bent unnaturally in the other direction. She blinked back warm tears, then winced as she saw that her face was nearly being stuffed into her own crotch.
“Un…deux…trois…quatre…” Rene started counting a pinfall in French before switching to English. “…five…six…seven…eight…nine…10…11…” The count went on and on. She could have counted to 100. Isabella wasn’t going anywhere.
The stationary camera was capturing all of this perfectly, but Emile made sure to step right in front of the wrestlers to get a close-up shot of the helpless Isabella. Her legs spread, her skintight leotard pinching her thighs, her ass up in the air, her face scrunched up in embarrassment. Emile was already imagining how leaking a shot of this would lead to unprecedented sales.
“No… no…” Isabella muttered as reality set in.
“Renoncez! Give up, stupid,” Rene said. “I am bored of this.”
Isabella could take the pain. She could accept being pinned. But being stuck in this position, with Rene laughing at her and Emile coldly filming her absolute destruction, it was too much. She weakly tapped at Rene’s legs and then uttered the fateful words that she hoped would end the contest.
“I give up. I give up, please, Rene,” Isabella said. “Please let me go.” Her voice cracked slightly as she shut her eyes and waited for the match to be over.
Rene only held on for a few more seconds before sliding off of Isabella, letting the girl’s body naturally settle down. It took some time until Isabella was flat on her back and even then, she willfully turned to her side and brought her knees to her chest in a fetal position. Rene did not even bother posing over her, instead turning to wink at the camera and departing. The footage ended there.
The next few moments were a blur for Isabella, who was helped to one of the washrooms by another wrestler. She was sore all over and was on auto-pilot as she undressed to step into the shower, which provided her little comfort. Being defeated so soundly, it was like a nightmare, an out-of-body experience. However, the tears and sweat being washed from her face and body were all too real, and she knew when she woke up the next morning, her body would remind her of the beating she had received at the hands of Rene.
