Though the Dennehys, Kanes, and Curves are still nipping at their heels, the Mitchells, Luchas, and others a step or two behind them, the two teams facing off tonight have established themselves as the current state of the art in tag competition. Not surprisingly, the champs are one. Chrissy Daniel, the domineering face of FAWN and her nasty, flirty, fiery redheaded partner, Megan Lilly, are a gilded force of nature, bullying opponents into submission. The streaking, shooting star team of Shea London and Juliet Bloodwind seemhave caught lightning in a bottle, the two high flyers soaring past several veteran teams on their way to a shot at the ultimate tag prize. The crowd is abuzz in anticipation. They are about to see a FAWN title tilt and that always means fireworks a plenty.

The crowd comes to life as the PA system blasts the Def Leppard staple: 'Pour Some Sugar on Me'. Within moments, the British Bombshell and Tempe Temptress emerge atop the ramp, a thunderous ovation for both Shea London and Juliet Bloodwind.

The pigtailed Juliet struts down the steel toward the ring, slapping hands with the fans sitting along the ramp, her imitation deerskin string bikini and matching knee high boots leaving very little to the public's imagination, and receiving a rousing vocal endorsement. She gives a thumbs up to a fan holding aloft a sign that reads 'TV CHAMP + TAG CHAMP = JULIET'S VERY OWN DAILY DOUBLE!'

Shea follows alongside, all smiles, likewise slapping hands with the fans as she goes. Changing fashion gears ever so slightly, the gorgeous blonde wears a dark red sports bra and a pair of matching bikini briefs, the Union Jack in all its glory across Shea's brassiere, no mutiny for her bounty; the remainder of her outfit, a pair of stylish, red wrestling boots. London grins as she catches sight of one particular sign, a picture of Chrissy & Megan side by side, inscribed: 'TWO WOMEN, SIX BOOBS (COUNTING THE ONE ON TOP OF THEIR NECKS'.

At ringside, the pair makes a complete circuit around the ring, continuing to press the flesh with the assembled fans. Their lap completed, Shea and Juliet move quickly toward the ring, gracefully hopping onto the apron. With her back to the ropes, arms draped over the top rope, the nubile Native American gives a suggestive wiggle of her hips before leaning backward, flipping herself over the top rope and landing on her feet, inside the ring. While the crowd reacts appreciatively to Bloodwind's exhibition, their volume only increases as London follows her partner's lead right down to an uncharacteristic (but hardly unappealing) hip wiggle of her own, the beautiful Brit grinning as she lands on her feet, Bloodwind keeping her eyes on the ramp, making sure no funny business is afoot.

The lights dim, a hush falls over the crowd, but there is the unmistakable electrical buzz of excitement coursing through the spectators. Then, Van Halen's "Beautiful Girls" erupts from the sound system, the unmistakable sound of Eddie Van Halen's signature riff tearing through the air. Precisely as the drum roll thunders in, a shower of sparks explodes from above, showering the entire arena in momentarily blinding light. Then, at the top of the ramp, Chrissy Daniel and Megan Lilly appear; hands on their hips, smugly mischievous smirks on their lips. They strut down toward the ring, hips swiveling with every self-assured step. Chrissy is clad in a black leather bikini top, red bikini briefs, and black ankle boots, with her wrists taped up in red. Megan's ensemble is similar, but the mirror opposite. Where Chrissy's is red, Megan's is black, and vice versa.

One detail that is the same on both: the FAWN Tag team Championship belts, shining with reflected light from around their waists.

The voluptuous hellions make their way into the ring, all eyes on them, taking the stairs slowly, so as to savor the moment. They slip through the ropes in a manner that's almost seductive. Chrissy flips her lustrous hair back with her hand, then shadow boxes a couple of punches as she heads to her corner, while Megan places a foot on the bottom rope, leaning over to give her favorite broadcaster, Buck Ansome, a blown kiss... and a better look at her impressive cleavage, the redhead apparently no longer showing any ill effects from Cathy Dennehy's finger stroll through her carpet.

Mounting the middle ropes on either side of the ring post opposite Shea and Juliet, and looking out at the throng of spectators, they raise their arms in a sign of impending victory. The champs jump down and turn to face the ring, bouncing back and forth on the balls of their feet. The Killer Imp and the Prodigy are in the house and woe to all who dare oppose them!

Both teams huddle in their corner, discussing who will bat leadoff. Early momentum is always huge in such a title tilt and it's unsurprising when Chrissy and Shea emerge, current World Champion and former, bitterest of rivals moving toward the center as Megan and Juliet take their leave.

"Look, it's the crumpetmunching strumpet back to get her limey ass kicked again," Chrissy says. "Don't you EVER get tired of me beating you to a pulp, PUTZ?"

"It seems not," Shea replies coolly.

Chrissy HAD been VERY successful in their last encounter, but history tells Shea every match has a life unto itself and the Killer Imp's life as champion is ending tonight.

The two old foes tie up in a collar-and-elbow before the bell makes the start official. The ref tries to catch up, waving the match to order. DING. DING. DING.

The shorter Chrissy quickly demonstrates powerful things come in small packages. She uses her low center of gravity to force Shea in reverse then roughly shoves her the rest of the way to the corner. Now a few steps away from her target, Chrissy tries to press her advantage. Racing forward, she throws her fireplug body into a corner splash, but Juliet's quick thinking saves Shea from being sandwiched. Hooking under Shea's arms, she pulls her partner back and thereby up. The World Champ slows, but only enough for Shea to extend her legs, closing her thighs around the head of the Killer Imp. The Brit beauty locks her ankles and flexes her slender but sinewy legs for all their worth, Chrissy grunting softly. Juliet, showing off her wiles once more, lifts Shea's shoulderblades off the top buckle and tosses her body to the right, the result a spinning head scissors takedown of Daniel, whose sturdy powerhouse frame goes tumbling away.

A little dizzy, Chrissy pushes to her feet and is rewarded with a dropkick to the chest that staggers the champ. As Chrissy regains her balance, Shea reloads and hits another, but again she cannot force Daniel down, the Imp's arms pinwheeling, almost comically to keep her upright. Shea drops back to the ropes and surges forward, throwing a heavy clothesline across Chrissy's neck, but still Daniel is not toppled. The 'third time as the charm' is out the window, but London's determination was not. She just needed a bit more oomph. This time, Shea races to the far ropes, throws her nubile, tawny body into them and flies back for a big impact. She leaps toward Chrissy, but Daniel shortcircuits whatever idea is in mind by surging forward and grabbing Shea around the waist before full liftoff. The little powerhouse pivots and plants, Shea nearly thrown through the mat by a mat-thumping spinebuster.

Chrissy hops to her feet, staring down at her rival in red.

"And so it starts all over again," Chrissy says. "Gawd, what a putz. You're like some little mosquito buzzing around. A fuckin' nuisance that eventually gets squashed."

The blonde bug can only groan in response. When Chrissy hit high impact moves, people--or insects--stayed smushed. The dirty blonde brawler snatches London's left leg and focuses on the knee. Chrissy puts the boot to it, stomping inside, outside, and kneecap, apparently deciding the joint needs to be turned into dust. Shea reflexively shrieks out a plea for Daniel to stop, knowing full well the violent Riverdance will conclude on the champ's terms. Chrissy does end the trampling, only to pull Shea up by her ailing leg. Bending at the waist, she posts Shea's wounded limb behind her neck and straightens, clamping an arm down on either side of the screaming joint. London wails as the ingenious ligament stretch takes its toll, Shea own body weight cruelly used against her as she dangles in front of the champ, swaying and struggling.

When it comes to pain, and its application, Chrissy is usually more straightforward, but she can be clever as well. Shea doesn't need to be told OR SHOWN, but Chrissy seems more than happy to do so.

"NAHHHHOOO," Shea cries, grabbing a hold of Chrissy's legs to steady her pendulous motion.

Throwing convention to the wind, London interlocks her fingers and swings an axhandle up into Daniel's lockbox. Chrissy immediately groans in aguish and drops Shea to tend to her own problem. Not exactly clever, Shea thought, as she massages her aching knee, but very effective. The Brit beauty crawls on her three good wheels to her corner. In the other direction, a waddling bow-legged Chrissy does the same and each gives control of the match to their partner with a meaty 'thwap'.

Both newcomers to the match rocket toward each other. The Television Champ, with something specific in mind, starts to rise out of her crouch, but again, the speed and aggressiveness of the champions catch the challengers off guard. Trying to adjust on the fly, Juliet leaves herself open and Megan RSVPs the invitation, spearing Bloodwind in her flat, tawny midsection, the fringe on her faux deerskin boots flying as she's folded in two across the redhead's freckled shoulder. Instead of driving Juliet into the canvas for her punishment, the Prodigy carries her all the way to the corner, slamming her back harshly into the buckles, a violent and impressive return-to-sender that knocks Shea from her post, the Brit tumbling to the floor below.

Megan drapes the right leg of the stunned, wide-eyed Juliet over the middle rope, straddles the appendage, and drops down on it, straining the joint and its ligaments. The Native American/French beauty winces in pain, Megan's next similar leap forcing her to express herself verbally with a high-pitched expletive, her slender, glossy lower limb bending in a manner for which it is not designed.

Juliet pulls her leg free before Megan can make it a three-fer. She bounces on one leg until the redhead yanks her into a short clothesline that nearly decapitates her, Juliet's head slamming hard against the mat. Megan grabs Bloodwind by her injured leg and drags her to a neutral corner. With the right leg still in tow, she climbs to the middle buckle and leaps forward in a flip, snapping Juliet's hamstring as she tumbles over the top. Juliet howls in pain, grabbing at her leg as Megan rises with a contented grin, offering her mentor a wink and a nod.

Juliet limps to her feet, the raven-haired beauty beelining toward Shea. But the Prodigy intercepts, snatching Juliet by the hair. She exchanges the grip for one on the bad leg, a skipping Juliet rightfully nervous.

Bad enough for a vicious veteran like Chrissy to be smart enough to take your wheels, but a relative newcomer is systematically grounding her. Almost before Juliet can get the thought processed, the redhead spins into a dragon screw, violently buggywhipping said 'bad wheel' in wicked fashion. Megan then moves onto a single-leg Crab, torturing Juliet's silky gam, again pressuring the wounded knee, but adding a little spinal adjustment to the mix and Dr. Lilly is working without anesthetic, eliciting some mournful sobs from her victim.

Shea watches nervously. It is a display from Megan she could not have expected. The kid's growing by leaps and bounds, and, under Chrissy's tutelage, that's not good news. When Juliet's right hand rises and starts to waver over the mat, the left pulling on her own raven tresses, dark eyes welling, some serious action is necessary.

Leaping through the ropes, Shea dropkicks Megan in the back, sending her sprawling and allowing Juliet to flop, spreadeagled, to the mat. An enraged Megan hops to her feet as the ref ushers Shea back to her corner.

"She's all mine Shea-sy. Just like she was the other day," Megan shouts, the auburn-haired beauty escorting Shea and the ref. "And it could just as easily be you in here being knocked out and sexed up by the Champ. It'd give these fans and your face a cheap thrill."

Megan giggles as Shea tries to rip her way through the zebra, but the man is big and has an iron grip. The snickering redhead turns to her peglegged victim and is met with a boot to the bosom, Juliet throwing all she had into a one-legged dropkick. The effort startles Megan more than injures her.

Quickly, she's back in business, snatching the injued leg and posting it around her own left. The redhead spins in place to wrench it further still, but in so doing, offers her behind as an ample target. Using her good leg, Juliet pushes Megan off and to her corner, where an anxiously awaiting Shea blasts her with a forearm shiver that lives up to its name, Megan shuddering as she stumbles away from the thunderous impact. Having struggled to her feet, Juliet has enough to wrap her hands around the back of Megan's auburn mane and drop to her good knee, sending Lilly vaulting up and away with a nasty jawbreaker. The slinky, sensual, and freckled one can't change her direction in time and ends up with London once more.

Shea wraps her hands where Juliet had moments before. She guides Megan's head to the outside, then drops off the apron, sending Lilly's neck ramming into the top cable, her head snapping back fiercely as Shea's grip releases. In this volleying game of 'Pass the Champ', a ragdolled Megan drunkenly lurches back to Juliet. Bloodwind collects the redhead in a side headlock, gingerly heads to the ropes, placing a little weight on her right leg, springs into the ropes, courtesy of her left, and bounces back to a cranium-cracking bulldog that leaves a suddenly floundering Megan face down on the mat.

Hot and cold, Chrissy curses to herself in the corner. Typical rookie. At least Juliet isn't in a position to take advantage, Bloodwind pitifully hopping to the bouncing English putz.

"GET OVER HER," Chrissy demands of Megan.

Lilly raises her head, clearly unsure of her surroundings, but the challenging voice is very familiar. She pushes up to her elbows, only to have someone snatch her arms from behind and pull them straight back, her shoulders growing tight, then pained.

"AHHHH, DAMN IT."

"Ya don 'ave ta like it," Shea says. "But you'll 'ave ta take it."

The Bristish Bombshell drives a boot between Megan's shoulderblades and pulls back on the arms even further, the standing surfboard drawing a pitiful cry from the previously flirty and ferocious redhead.

"CHRISSSY," Megan wails.

Unfortunately for the World Champion, the ref has one eye on her at all times, sometimes half of the second, as well, and Megan's silly whimpering isn't going to help.

"FIGHT THROUGH IT, RED. YOU'RE A CHAMP!" Chrissy shouts.

Shea's boot moves from Megan's spine to the back of her head. Releasing her arms, Shea forces Lilly's face into the canvas... HARD.

"Yeah, Red," Shea mocks. "Ya tha champ, for a coupla more minutes."

With that, Shea bunnyhops in reverse, double-stomping Megan's shoulderblades, then her lower spine, then her ivory ass cheeks. She yanks the overwhelmed Prodigy to her feet and whips her chest-first to the buckles. The redhead stumbles back from the impact and the blonde Brit takes off in a sprint, spearing Megan from behind, her upper and lower body whiplashing arounbd the base of her spine from the blindside blow.

With the busty New Yorker's vertebrae being turned into vermicelli, Megan sags in Shea's grasp, her hand reaching to soothe her demolished backbone. With opportunity graciously presented by the faltering Lilly, Shea captures the redhead in a rear chinlock. FAWN's first champion jumps up, placing both knees against Megan's back. Both women fall backward to the mat, the collision forcing Shea's knees to push up into Megan's abused spinal column with incredible force, an 'oooh' elicited from the appreciative Omaha audience. Feeling Megan's body go limp in her grasp, incapacitated by the Lung Blower, Shea disengages and pushes Lilly to her chest.

"Ya don' seem ta be fightin' through," Shea chides, moving to a perpendicular kneel across the back of the auburn-haired beauty. "So let's end tis for ya."

Even in her state, Megan knows what's coming and squirms uselessly as Shea wraps an arm under her chin, folds her legs up with the other arm and sweeps the limb underneath.

"No," Megan gasps, understanding the bridge is being built.

Her partner understands as well and knows Megan would not be able to resist the torturous backbreaker. Quickly, Chrissy clambers to the top buckle. If the ref wanted to stop her, he'd have to catch her. Gathering her balance, she means to stop Shea before she can bring the London Bridge to full construction. Leaping, she throws herself at Shea head-first, ready to go Zidane on her ass, but as she soars toward impact, Shea rolls back, lifting her bridge and Megan in a curled incarceration. Chrissy's arms windmill, but even the FAWN World Champion cannot defy gravity and she impales the extended ivory belly of her partner. Megan convulses in pain, her midsection destroyed from both directions, Chrissy and Shea inadvertently teaming for a near-perfect tag team finisher. But the shock and awe of the move and Megan's semiconscious stupor delay her capitulation. Shea screams at the ref to check her arm instead. One lift of the Prodigy's limb brings one fall, but that is all, as an embarrassed and embittered Chrissy tears into Shea with boot after boot, the ravaged Megan flopping bonelessly out of London's grasp as she rolls into a fetal ball.

Taking a break from her mudstomp, Chrissy gives Megan a sharp slap, pulls her to her feet and pushes her to the team's corner. Partner dispensed with, she turns to a rising Shea, whom she 'helps' up into a tight front bearhug, the suddenly panicky Brit knowing this position all too well over the years.

"AHHHHHHUNNNNGHH"

The champ closes her embrace around the slender tawny midriff, the stocky little powerhouse proving why she's the state of the art in FAWN. London's back arches in anguish, head falling back, but Daniel has more in mind. Carrying Shea with her, the Brit's legs pumping like she's riding an invisible bike, Chrissy races toward the far buckles and plows into the corner. She sandwiches the unfortunate Shea in between, her body crushed between the buckles and the busty, bullying Imp, a still-ailing Megan having rolled out of the way, just in time.

Juliet, tired of the ref's impotent attempts to remove Chrissy from the ring and her partner, barrels across the squared circle and lays into Daniel with punch after punch to the back of head and shoulders. Chrissy absorbs the blows, keeping Shea pressed tightly in front of her, and soon, instead of trying to peel her off Shea, the ref is battling Juliet. The zebra has more success with Bloodwind than the low-slung and ultra-determined World Champion. As he forces the Tempe Temptress back to her corner, Juliet fighting all the way, Chrissy commands a recovering Megan to her feet.

She then, essentially, 'commands' Shea into her cleavage, forcing the drooping London forward into her barely contained D-cups. Though Shannen Dennehy's teats receive the most FAWN acclaim, Chrissy's might be just as big and dangerous. At the very least, they are way more than a handful to deal with, and, as Shea is finding out, way more than a mouthful, as well. Chrissy grins evilly as her bitter rival suckles, Shea trying to push free from the breathtaking bosom, but unable.

"Pathetic," Chrissy ridicules, turning to an open-armed Megan, ready to share her wealth. "It's almost like she enjoys it."

"Cause she knows what you're gonna do to her later, is well, not as... mmm... soothing," the redhead jokes.

Chrissy nods, pulling out a shiny-faced Shea from between her fleshy hillocks, London's eyes blinking wide as she gulps in air.

"You take her for awhile," Chrissy says, grabbing Shea by her dirty blonde mane and pushing her between the mountains of Megan's freckled flesh. Lilly's arms fold behind Shea's head forcing the British Bombshell under, London flailing uselessly, humming moans emerging from the moist satiny flesh encasing her.

"Mmmm. Not bad," Megan says with a sparkle in her eye.

"Gimme," barks Chrissy

Shea gets passed back like a joint at a party, but it's she who's dragging on the soft malleable flesh of her dominating foes, the champions having their way. Bored with her supremacy and Shea's deteriorating condition, Chrissy roughly spins Shea back to Megan and shoves her back to smother number two. Megan lovingly accepts the ragdolled Brit as though a mother ready to feed a wayward infant. Lilly's stifling embrace leaves London limp and a slap from a departing Chrissy on the buckle next to her ends the session. Megan pulls Shea free, eyes rolled white, arms limp at her side, and drapes her across the corner, chest-up, arms and legs dangling over either side. With a smack of hands, Chrissy is made legal and Megan steps out, much to the ref's relief. He finally has two legal combatants... and two alone.

Slipping an arm under and around the neck of the sacrifice, the other around her thighs, a crouching Chrissy gathers Shea up across her shoulders and lifts, London's body bending around the champ's shoulders, Daniel pulling down on either side. The Torture Rack living up to its name, Chrissy awakens Shea from her breast-induced stupor with a shake and a march around the ring, Shea crying out as her back is savagely twisted, the little busty fireplug showing off the strength that Shea couldn't match and, at the moment, couldn't counter.

"This crumpetmucnhing putz is SO predictable," Chrissy shouts, delighting in the futile squirms and pained sighs and groans of her rival. "Just like the end of our matches, coming soon to a ring near you."

Juliet, waiting in the corner with bitten lip and nervous clapping, can take Chrissy's parade no longer. She slips through the ropes, though a sharp whistle from Megan alerts her partner. Catching Juliet's approach from the corner of her eye, Chrissy shows off what makes her extra special, for she had power and grit, but also game, psychologically AND creatively. Using Shea as her weapon, Chrissy spins London in reverse, clocking the approaching, and apparently unsuspecting Juliet in the noggin, Shea's weakly flailing legs cracking her across the cheek and sending her stumbling away.

The bronzed Native lovely gathers her balance and rubs her jaw. With a look of determination, Bloodwind makes a frontal charge. Unfortunately for her, the Killer Imp makes it as successful as her rear assault, Chrissy 'unracking' Shea with a typical jaw-dropping power display from the 61-inch wonder.

Tossing London over her head like she's passing in a soccer ball, Chrissy sends the mewling British deadweight flying cross-body into the stampeding Native American/French beauty. The women collapse in a heap, for a brief moment, Shea appearing to pin her partner, Juliet's wind taken from her by the astonishing maneuver. A strutting Chrissy, looking all the dominating FAWN force she has become, saunters to Megan and tags the apprentice in.

"I've beaten that stupid Shea-sy nine different ways, including the rack tonight. She's yours. Consider it a gift."

Megan nods, licking her lips. Juliet, unknotting herself from the tangle of limbs, apparently remains Chrissy's, the champ helping her disengage from an arched and aching Shea with a tug of her raven tresses. Daniel backs Juliet to the ropes, forcing her there with a lift of the knee to her flat, tawny tummy. Leaning her against the strands, Chrissy winds up with an exaggerated bolo punch, but the crashing impact is anything but exaggerated, the monstrous uppercut from the Imp propelling Juliet over the top, the Television champ shown the door by the WORLD-sized version. Juliet clips the outside of the apron and tumbles to the floor below, landing on her still hobbled right leg. Chrissy slides out to seal the deal, leaving the two legal representatives in the ring.

Meanwhile, Megan approaches the Shea, the Brit on hands and knees. The busty redhead wraps her arms around the Sensational One's quivering midriff, the future Hall of Famer, once again, putty in her hands as she pulls Shea to her feet. Snatching her by the wrist, Lilly sends the blonde for the ride, waiting for her return mid-ring.

One problem. Shea maintains the fortitude of a champion and ducks Megan's clothesline effort. She throws herself into the opposite ropes, catches a belated second Lilly clothesline and spins around the back of Megan's body, using the proffered arm to move into crucifix position.

One more problem. The wily Megan shifts her weight and keeps Shea's momentum carrying her past the desired tipping point. Only when Megan drops Shea's spinning form crashing across bended knee in a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker does the trip come to a disastrous end. The flirty New Yorker of the bi-coastal champs throws Shea's body away like so much garbage, the Englishwoman arching in agony, soft whimpers escaping pursed lips as London reaches for what feels like a shattered spine.

But her curled form only sparks an idea for revenge, Megan capturing Shea in a standing surfboard, London's arms viciously pulled back, nearly out of their sockets. Lilly rides the waves, both boots planted just below Shea's protruding shoulderblades.

"UHHH. NUHHHHH," Shea cries, seemingly unable to stem the tide.

The torment only comes to an end nearly a minute later when Megan tires of Shea's stubbornness. It would take something more. Something special.

Letting her flop to the canvas, face down, Megan stands at the Brit's feet, directed away from the downed London. Skillfully, the redhead folds Shea's lithe lower limbs in an 'x', calves on top of thighs, locking the legs in place with her own left entwined between. Bridging, she falls back to find Shea, no doubt putting pressure on her own abused spine, but gritting her way through. Securing her interlocked hands under Shea's chin, the redhead pulls London's head and upper body back sharply into a perfectly-executed sickle hold. Megan, while locking in place her 'Initiation' finisher, simultaneously wins many hearts, if not loins, with the grand display of her upturned and somehow still overflowing bosom. Shea, however, is less pleased, her spine feeling as if it's sure to snap. She wails in agony as Megan keeps the hold tightly in place, Lilly occasionally adding a harsh yank, seemingly wishing to slip a disk out of alignment.

Shea screams for help from Juliet, but then, through the painful haze and squinting eyelids, she sees. On the outside, bronzed body pushed tightly against the guardrail in a seated position, Jules' face is nestled tightly within Chrissy's hulking mounds. The eyelids of the Tempe Temptress flutter then drop for good, one champion extinguishing another.

Megan, realizing Shea has lost some of the concentration on her own dire situation, jerks the Brit's head with yet more unyielding force.

She couldn't lose to this girl again, Shea screams in her thoughts. NOT AGAIN. But she couldn't wrestle with a broken neck or broken spine and the bitch seems more than happy to give her one or both. With hope dead and her body dying, she could do nothing else. Eyes welled, Shea screams out a muffled submission.

"I GUHHHVE... I GUHHVE UP... I QUGHHT."

She adds a staccato beating of the canvas and the ref calls for the bell, Megan surprisingly releasing almost instantly as the PA blares to life.

"YOUR WINNERS... AND STILLLLLL CHAMPIONS... CHRISSY DANIEL AND MEGAN LILLY."

Twisting over and kneeling next to Shea, Megan's mercy becomes something less when she slips out of her red bikini top, letting loose the jugs of mass destruction beneath. She twirls a still grimacing, aching Shea to her back and leaps atop her. Quickly, Megan's voluptuous, sweat-slickened bosom covers Shea's protesting features, London's head shaking from side to side, but unable to find more than a split-second's escape. The Brit pushes against the pale, freckled body coating her own, but Megan is unmovable, particularly in London's increasingly oxygen-deprived state.

"NMMMPPH."

The muted plea only brings a smile to the winner's arrogant, victorious countenance. Moving in, Megan gives Shea a kiss on the top of the head.

"Nighty night, sweetheart," Megan notes with the height of righteous arrogance. "You lose AGAIN. And this is where you become more than my victim, but my toy, too. But you knew the night would end like this."

A few muffled words puff into her breasts and Shea is unconscious. Hearing a thump, Megan turns to see Chrissy rolling a similarly sleepy Juliet in under the bottom rope.

"Putzes, don't know how to handle their milk."

Lining the nubile and demolished duo next to each other, each victor parks their tush atop the face of their conquered challenger, Chrissy in a front facesit of Juliet, Megan in a reverse with Shea. As if on cue, the champions start their ride, driving their thinly-covered sex across each delectable feature, listing and pushing into each ridge and crevice, soft breath from below enticing them; nose, lips...

'UHHH. UNNNGHHH. MMMMMPHHH. Unnnnghhaaaaaahhh.'

The victors explode in unison, honey soaking through, coating the features of Juliet and Shea.

"Free facials," Megan teases, between pleasured pants.

Chrissy rises off her mount ever-so-slightly, dripping into Juliet's parted lips.

"KICKIN ASS. GETTIN OFF. MAKIN MONEY. KEEPIN GOLD. Shit, I never get tired of beating the crap out of these pussies."

The champs share a high-five then each tend to their fillies, stripping them of their tops. Slowly, they rouse their mounts, rolling them across the mat and pushing them to the floor.

Consciousness returning, the topless Juliet and Shea are bridled with their faux deerskin and red spandex respectively. Tears of frustration and humiliation well in their eyes as they glance over their shoulders at their respective jockeys, Chrissy transferring to Shea and vice-versa, then at each other. The once AND STILL champions mount up, bringing their fillies to heel with a pair of vicious, DEEEP-digging wedgies, Juliet's deerskin going into hiding between her ass cheeks, Shea's red number doing the same between her sculpted satiny bum. Chrissy 'spurs' her mount with a slap of the ass.

"Get going or we put you in the VanBuren suite of the local hospital," Chissy growls.

Shea knows the threat is legit and she isn't willing to risk Juliet's title and career. Slowly, she places one 'hoof' in front of the other and a despondent Juliet does likewise, the perfect pearlies of both women on display as their bridles are pulled tight.

"Giddy-up," Megan shouts, laughing and turning to her fellow tag champ. "It's good to be the Queens".

Chirssy pulls Shea's wedgie tighter and deeper still, the topless Shea emitting a pained whimper as she continues on hands and knees up the aisle, Juliet and Megan alongside.

"Ya better believe it, Meggy," Chrissy responds, "but it's best of all when you still have time for the simple pleasures."

Shea sobs as she strains to keep her rider happy.

"And they don't get any simpler than Shea Freakin' London."

WINNERS, and STILL FAWN TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS: Chrissy Daniel & Megan Lilly