Sandy steals the show

Sandy balanced herself on her hands, suddenly leaning back to brace herself entirely on them. She slipped free from Tikka’s grasp, twirling her legs in a breakdance-like maneuver. Her legs twirled like a tornado, pummeling and slapping Tikka from all directions without losing momentum.

Tikka wasn’t the only one with an impressive style. Sandy balanced with a handstand in front of the battered Tikka, her face showing early bruises and an eye starting to swell. She wrapped her feet around her neck like a pair of **** hands, then jerked Tikka towards her with her toes.

She ducked to her elbows at the last moment, grabbing Tikka’s feet and lifting them upward, positively hurling Tikka over the ropes. She crashed onto the arena floor, moaning and trying to regain her composure as she held her face tenderly.

Sandy stood up straight, sighed cleansingly, and then flipped backward. She sailed over the ropes, somersaulting speedily before she stood stock upright at the end of it, her feet stamping violently into Tikka’s stomach. The Asian grunted heavily, turning to her side to gag and heave, drooling heavily as she felt ready to vomit from the impact.

Sandy **** Tikka to stand painfully. “Rise then… like a ‘warrior,’” Sandy mocked laughingly. She chucked her back into the ring, a pathetic heap. Sandy held onto the bottom rope, not so much climbing into the ring as swinging herself in under the bottom rope, slingshotting her feet into Tikka’s face yet again. The martial artist moaned loudly, but was unable to move from her severe beating.

Sandy stood on top of Tikka’s crotch, doing a slow, sensual, stylish dance on it as the pin was counted.

“A fine start to my reign over this league,” Sandy smirked down at her foe.