Post by Lookout! Boxing on Feb 28, 2024 19:46:36 GMT -6
Tale of the Tape (JMD):
Lucy Pinder (6-22-0, 6 KO)
5'5, 40 years old, 32H
Celebrity Wrestling Federation
vs.
Jordan Carver (3-17-0, 3 KO)
5'6, 37 years old, 30K
Black Eagle Boxing
(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)
Intro:
"Welcome to this fabulous JMD contest… “
“AND NOW! Making her 29th appearance in the FCBA. Please welcome the Hampshire, England native, standing 5 foot 5, weighing in at 125 pounds, LUCYYYYY PINNNNNDERRRR!!”
Outfits:
Lucy was scantily clad in a pale-white, sheer bikini that clung to her heavy H-cups as if it were painted on her skin. The thin-banded bandeau top did little to contain her natural, overflowing chest; her heaving orbs swelling as though they were fastened with a belt given the ample cleavage and underboob being shown. The Brit’s bronzed skin glimmered with a light sheen of perspiration; her satin, shoulder-length locks already soaked through and matted with sweat. Heavy, thick eye-liner coated her long lashes; the smoke from her mascara mixing with the flush of her rosy cheeks as she waved to throngs of fans. The biting floss of her string thong bottoms was lost to folds of flesh as it trailed between her plump ass cheeks, grinning ear-to-ear with a toothy smile as she slid lewdly into the ring.
Carver dawned an equally skimpy and provocative ring attire; a matte black, tiny triangular string top and matching thong bottoms. The brunette’s long hair trailed freely down her back, splitting her shoulder-blades as she leaned against the post in her corner. Jordan tucked her overflowing K-cups back behind the thin fabric, all-business and sick of losing to the CWF.
Round 1:
In the recent overseas expansion by the CWF, Carver was leaked to have been a heavily scouted name. Ultimately, the four chosen didn’t include Jordan; scorned in favor of the very woman across from her during the negotiation process. Carver was eager to show The Federation they’d made a dire mistake, but in the early goings she was perhaps TOO eager.
Floundering on her toes, Carver embarrassingly pinwheeled out of control in the first thirty seconds; twirling through hopeful jabs and hooks toward Pinder’s temples and making somewhat of a fool of herself with every consecutive miss. Left over the shoulder, right short of the chin, overhand whizzing into nothingness; eventually Pinder’s patience paid off as she slipped the brunette’s turnstile and rapped a gutting hook-uppercut off her navel. Carver gagged as she spilled gracelessly forward; roping a thoughtless left through the air before Lucy chugged another lot of punches into the underside of her heaving rack.
Swaddling her pulsing chest with both arms, Carver awkwardly blocked a cross with her forearm; opening up just as Lucy sawed a heavy left across her rack, sloshing one of her tits free. Her yelp was quickly silenced by a rising missile that rattled her jaw shut, lifting to her tippy toes before a slicing cross to the cheek twirled her into the ropes face-first. Pinder scampered to pursue, clubbing a pair of rights into the brunette’s turned back that popped loudly against her ribs. Carver huffed as she discarded Lucy at the bell, launching a smirking Pinder back to her corner with some visible frustration. Pinder shows the value of her new corner team, 10-8.
Round 2/3:
Somewhat shocking that two of the most popular Brits had never squared off in the BBU before now, Carver used that unfamiliarity to her advantage; tempting Pinder closer with a bit of gamesmanship before ambushing the unsuspecting brunette. Playing coy with just how damaged she was after the late flurry in the first, Carver sprung a trap on the stalking Pinder by slipping past an overhand labeled for her eye-socket. As Lucy followed through the miss, Carver pumped a piercing straight right through her sternum; Pinder’s guttural squelch drowning out the roar of the crowd and CRACK of flesh as she took the spike straight through her clavicles.
The Brit’s tear-dropping chest shook with fleshy reverberations, her thighs pinching shut as she wobbled off her mark. Carver scooped the sagging brunette up by the armpits and drove the small of her back into the steel post; whimpering as she postured straight up in a chesty clinch. Carver peeled off Pinder just when she felt her sprawl across the top rope; slicing a left across her tits, then a rabbit punch from the pocket, then two more. Hook, uppercut, hook, straight, hook-hook; Pinder twisted and squirmed across the ropes, her titanic H-cups mushrooming with each heartless hammer to her rack. Her thonged ass slid down the post as she hid desperately behind her walls, trying to pinch her elbows and seal off her chest from the rhythmic abuse. Carver finally threw the shielding brunette into the center of the ring with a crude hip-toss; hurling verbal abuse rather than physical for the last ten seconds as she pulled even.
Pinder managed to claw out of her foxhole in the third, but Carver’s relentless aggression continued to nip at her heels and push her around the ring. Without the same energy as her opening round, Pinder was tagged a few times more than she would have liked; conceding the round thanks to a late bit of pressure from Carver that strung her up along the ropes. Jordan takes the second 10-8 and the third 10-9, pulling ahead and putting her tail in the air.
Round 4:
Despite her age, 2023 had been arguably the best year of Lucy’s career. Finally beginning to believe in herself and with a Stable doing the same, Pinder came out for the fourth with a ferocious bit of bite and bark. Carver was heeled for the first time since the opener as Lucy flung a gargantuan cross into her chin; hissing venom in between colossal overhands to the opposing Brit’s guard until Jordan’s back rubbed the ropes.
Pinder chunked a partially-blocked right off Carver’s shoulder; relocating in a flash to sweep a hook-hook into both curves of her hips. Jordan swiveled between the concussive blows; rocking behind her arms as Lucy continued to strike from awkward angles. A creative screwdriver sunk into Carver’s solar-plexus, then a winding left-right-left concaved her abdomen from both sides; heaving as Pinder side-stepped and detonated a full-bodied overhand right against the Brit’s inviting K-cups. Carver squelched as her tits were pancaked to her sternum, trampolining into the ropes holding her bouncing chest. Jordan’s legs wobbled as she waded back out to sea on the rebound; her hands sagging just low enough for Pinder to crane to her toes and tuck a downward spiking right over Carver’s guard, clobbering her cheek. The wounded Brit dribbled her mouthpiece to the canvas, blubbering as Pinder swelled and lashed left, right, right, left, left across her bosom; the last of which finally puddled Carver to the mat.
1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… Carver hugged her knees as she folded into a graceless fetal position; rocking on her shins and elbows, swaddling her rack with both arms as Pinder erupted overtop of her.
“You wanted this spot, well now I’ve EARNED it…” Pinder barked.
7… 8… Jordan sagged lower, spreading into a split on her haunches as she buried her face against the mat, still unable to breathe as she sputtered and pant for air.
9… 10!!
"And your winner, by KO in Round 4, LUCCYYYYY PINNNNNDERRR!!!!"
Post Fight:
Pinder was already in the middle of discarding her gloves as the official hit ten; feeling no threat of Carver beating the count thanks to her early whimpers of resignation. Straddling the small of Jordan’s back, Lucy took a rough seat atop the Brit’s spine; flattening her out and mushrooming her swelling chest to the canvas. Carver wailed as she floundered spread eagle; her pedaling stems kicking out from beneath her as she furiously pant beneath Pinder’s weight. Trying to wiggle and squirm for pockets of air, Carver’s throaty grunting suddenly cranked to ‘11’; screeching as Lucy fish-hooked her chin from behind and ripped the mortified Brit’s skull straight back.
Carver’s tear-dropping chest arched off the mat as she was mercilessly curled into a cruel ‘C’; her spine twisting as she was contorted into a brutal Camel Clutch. Pinder planted her heels against the mat and ripped deeper; Carver’s squeals going hoarse as she stared at the rafters, shimmying in a brief protest before her eyes suddenly widened in disbelief. Pinder gleamed ear-to-ear as she dove forward and eclipsed the already desperate Brit’s rosy features with her hanging jugs; burying Carver with her H-cups from behind. Jordan’s shrill squeals were muffled as her lips were devoured by Lucy’s sweaty cleavage; pawing at the canvas in desperation as her twitching did little more than sink her deeper in the fleshy pool of quicksand. Pinder’s enormous, swelling jugs mushroomed as she shimmied her upper half; rocking Carver until she could cradle her against her sternum, burying the twisted Brit as her movements started to grow more sporadic. Carver gurgled from her fleshy tomb as she started to pitch and convulse; her arms giving out as she seized one final time in Pinder’s snake-like vice before sulking to a lifeless puddle on the mat.