she does

“If you insist.” Miss H reached down for Tara’s crotch, but she readily clamped her thighs on Miss H’s wrist. She went for a counter, but Miss H had been counting on the leg clamp. She let the grip act like her own, using it to lift Tara off the mat and bodyslam her to the mat behind her.

Tara moaned and held her sore side, Miss H storming up behind her readily. She lifted up Tara by her legs, sitting her upright in her grip. She smashed her cunt on top of her knee, getting a wail of agony from the anti-bully held her sore crotch, hopping up and down slightly at the pain shooting through her pussy.

“Some tactician,” sneered Miss H. Tara was too distracted by the pain to sense Miss H rushing up behind her, grabbing her head and bashing it at high speed into the turnbuckle. “If you’re all about fighting smart, then you’ve picked the wrong foe, you pathetic little urchin.”