Erica is an old rival of mine and I would like to thank her for being lots of fun and also for her permission to post one of our recent encounters.
BRANDI:
The vast open air arena of Petco Park, San Diego is packed with not one of the 42000 seats to be had. The crowd sit expectantly, buzzing at the prospect of the main event, a Women’s World Title match. No less than twenty TV cameras are trained on the ring and the surrounding arena and two giant screens tower over the stadium to convey to the stadium crowd the very same pictures that the TV viewers will see in their homes. Two commentators, one male, one female, sit ready to describe the action to the watching millions on pay per view. They sit in the centre of what is normally the baseball field, adjacent to a pristine wrestling ring with bright red ropes and turnbuckle pads and a pale baby blue mat stands bathed in floodlights.
At present the giant screen is showing the video sequence being watched by the Tv audience, which provides the context to this title match. Firstly there are shots of you, the long standing undisputed champion winning match after match to defend your belt, putting away various big gals, small gals, white, black, Asian, you name it, you have finished them with one of your signature moves. Shots of you hooking legs and making pins, then shots of you tired, sweaty, but triumphant holding your belt aloft.
Then cut to my sequence, featuring me in action in smaller, different style arenas in the UK. Then I’m shown winning a couple of matches in the USA before the scene shifts to a big event battle royal. Lots of different gals, all kinds of sizes, all kinds of origins, all kinds of outfits. Each cut comes rapidly now. I tip a girl over the top rope. Another nearly rips me out but all out herself and I hang on. And so it goes until it is just me and a red haired Irish girl. She has me on the ropes trying to heave me up and over the top one, we are both exhausted, desperate. Suddenly I shift position, grab the neck, also the leg hole of her suit, heave her up and over in a clumsy suplex. She grabs for the top rope, I knock her hand away and she falls! Then shots of me, delighted as the ref holds my arm aloft as the triumphant winner with a huge caption across the screen: “Number One Contender!”
Then suddenly the arena lights dim, the long metal runway that has been erected from the locker rooms to the ring is lit up and a ripple of excitement runs thru the crowd:
The female ring announcer’s echoes around the vast arena: The following contest is set for one fall with no time limit and is for the Women’s World Championship. Introducing first, the challenger, from Manchester England, she stands 5’ 6” tall and weighs in and 140 pounds, Brannnnddeeeeee ‘Thuuurrr Hussstttllurrrrrrr, Willllllsuunnnnnnn!!!”
A spotlight picks me up as I stride down from the top of the ramp. My entrance music, “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet’ by Bachman Turner Overdrive blares out. I’m in my signature gear, black leather one piece with thong pack, spray on tight and chosen a size too small, dark fishnet hose and gold knee high wrestling boots with matching elbow pads. My straight dark hair is loose and down to my shoulders and my lilac themed make up is heavy and mean looking.
I lightly slap a couple of out stretched hands as I move towards the ring but the crowd are mostly fairly quiet, unsure though rather than plain hostile. I don’t expect anything else right now. I’m relatively unknown here in the US. It’s something of a surprise that I’m here for this title shot, but I’m confident that they will all be cheering for me at the end. I reach the ring and roll in under the bottom rope and keep going all the way to mid ring before coming smoothly and quickly up to my feet. I turn slowly giving an arm aloft to each side of the ring before going to the corner, mounting the middle rope, leaning out and shouting, “C’monnnn!” To no one in particular, just for a bit of impact for the tv cameras and to let them get a few good close up shots of me in my skimpy leather suit. Then I drop down, start shaking out me arms and legs, blowing out my cheeks a little, as I wait for you to bring my title belt to the ring.
ERICA:
I wait behind the curtain, watching a nearby monitor as it plays the intro video that the fans are watching on the big screens. My purple painted lips curl into a satisfied smile as I watch myself on the screen finishing off various victims. Until one of the scenes seems to zoom in and linger on a shot of me holding a handful of my opponent’s suit for illegal leverage during the pin. I hear a groan and boos from the crowd as they watch and I sneer “What the ...agh!” I look to the side and see a young production assistant and punch his arm as I point at the monitor “THAT wasn’t supposed to be in the video!” He cowers and sputters “I’m sorry Miss DeVille I didn’t do the video!” When the music changes abruptly to “The Bitch Is Back!” I turn my attention to the curtain again. Fluffing my hair and adjusting my suit as the announcer booms out AND HER OPPONENT SHE STANDS 5’9” 155 POUNDS...SHE IS THE QUEEN OF MEAN SHE IS THE REIGNING WOMENS CHAMPION SHE IS ERICA DE VILLLLLLLLE....Mtc
I burst thru the curtain and strike a pose only to be greeted by a chorus of booooos from at least 30,000 of the 40,000 thousand or more fans in the stadium. I sneer and taunt the crowd as I strut down the aisle toward the ring, feeling the bright lights as they shimmer off my body...wearing a purple one piece, thong cut in back, with black trim and a cursive EDV logo over the stomach section...shiny tan tights shimmer under the bright lights ...black calf boots with purple laces...my hair is loose for the match and streaked with purple and silver. Dramatic purple and black makeup is caked on my face. The shiny title belt hangs around my waist as my hips sway confidently with each step.
Some young fans lean over the railing holding out their hands as I pass. I step closer as if I’m going to slap their hands then JERK my hand away at the last second laughing “a-HA! Gotcha! Losers haha!” drawing more boos from nearby spectators...I climb the steps and stand on the apron looking at the ref and then the ropes then clearing my throat and arching my eyebrow as I look at him sternly and say “Well?!” until he gets there hint and holds the ropes open. I bend and slither thru the ropes wiggling my shiny ass playfully then sauntering to my corner, smirking as I look across at you and point at my belt “Like my belt, sweetie? You can look but don’t touch...hehe...only WINNERS get to touch the belt! Haha!”...I cackle as I get to my corner and spin to lean back against the thick red padded buckles, my hands resting on the top ropes casually as the ref moves over to check you in your corner....yt
BRANDI:
I watch as you cockily make your way to the ring. I’m struck by how virulently the crowd boo you. You really know how to work them too, revving them up into a fury of anger and frustration. But hey, maybe I can use this. I’m not normally the face in matches, hell I'm not exactly dressed that way, but that is the role I have been given so like the good pro that I am, that’s where I have to go.
As you humiliate the ref, making him hold the ropes open for you, I start a big derisive rhythmic hand clap, holding my hands high as they come together and stomping my right gold boot down onto the pale blue mat. The crowd respond. They fall into line so easily, just like me, wanting to show their disdain for your behaviour. CLAP....CLAP....CLAP......CLAP.....maybe as many as thirty thousand pairs of hands join in and I’m conducting them, working them so easily, turning this way and that to whip up more and more participation. It’s such a rush!
Then the clapping subsides just as soon as it began. The crowd watch tensely as you slide into the ring. It is a sexy display and they can’t help but stare. Then you start taunting me with your title belt. I smile slightly, shake my head, turn to the crowd and start clapping and stamping once more. In they come right on cue. The wave of derision for you fizzes up and then dies quickly but at least I’m working the crowd too as we both play out our expected roles.
Things settle down. The ref comes over to me to check me out. I smile at him sweetly and hold out my hands for him to check my nails. He pats me down and I give a mock look of surprised pleasure. Then I turn around, showing him my fishnet covered ass, smiling coyly at him over my shoulder. A quick pat down, a wipe of the soles of my boots with his hands and then he is off to check you out.
Meanwhile the commentators are in deep discussion:
MC: Well Bonnie, what’s your assessment of how this big title match is going to pan out here tonight?
FC: It’s a total no brainer, Jim. Erica will destroy Brandi. Heck, the Brit doesn’t even deserve to be here. She just got lucky in that rumble match. She might be all that back in the UK but it’s a different ball game playing with the big gals over here. Oh sure, she’ll try and get a quick shock win early on in the match, but Erica will be too savvy to let her. Then she’ll just grind Brandi down.
MC: Well I don’t think that’s entirely fair, Bonnie. Brandi has won all her matches since she has been in the US and she showed a heap of resilience to win her self a shot at the title in the rumble.
FC: Yeah well she’ll need plenty of resilience here tonight that’s for sure. The champion is all fired up and ready to go. Heck, even the ref is scared of her. He’s wondering if he dare go over to her corner to check her out! Ha ha!
ERICA:
As you get the crowd worked up clapping in unison I stomp around in my corner covering my ears and shaking my fist at the ref “make them shut UP!” He shrugs and mutters something about freedom of speech so I glare at him. I jab my finger in the air toward you “You’re going DOWN, bitch! HARD! Haha!” The ref takes the title belt and holds it up displaying it to the fans then passes by giving you a distant glance at it before he hangs it on a neutral corner ringpost.
Finally he gets to my corner again, standing in front of me warily and holds out his hands inviting me to hold out my hands. I smile slyly and hold out my hands letting him check me. Then I raise my arms and wiggle my hips slightly as he rubs his hands around my waist. He crouches and reaches for my right foot, and I dutifully raise it slightly letting him rub around my boot. As he reaches for my left foot I begin to raise it but then “accidentally” lose my balance and have to plant it again before he can check my boot. “Oopsie! Hehe!” He pauses then reaches for my left foot again and once again I raise it slightly but then lose my balance and have to plant my foot again before he can check it “Oh clumsy ME hehe!” I giggle as this time I stumble forward enough I have to rest my hands on his shoulders to support myself as my breast grazes against the side of his head. The fans erupt in boos and jeers and groans as they watch my antics and see the ref get so distracted he doesn’t try again to check my boot but instead he rises and sheepishly wanders around the ring a bit looking at the bell boy and the announcers table to make sure everyone is ready to start the match. Yt
BRANDI:
I watch your antics with the poor ref with growing concern. The sly look on your face tells me that this is more than just another cruel little joke at the ref’s expense. You are deliberately distracting him from that nasty gleaming black boot. There is something very wrong here.
“Check her left boot, ref! Her left boot! You didn’t check it, you idiot!” I turn to the crowd who are booing and jeering. But they don’t get it. The morons didn’t see what I saw. Nor did the TV commentators it appears.....
FC: What’s Wilson griping to the ref about now?
MC: She’s worried about Erica’s boots I think.
FC: Huh! The time she needs to worry about Erica’s boots is when they are stomping all over her stupid whinging Brit head! This is pro wrestling for pete’s sake, not.....not...er....not Ladies’ Croquet.
MC: Heh heh! Good analogy, Bonnie. I don’t think. Ladies’ Croquet......whatever that is.
MC: Shut up, Jim!
Meanwhile, I’ve left my corner to remonstrate with a confused looking ref. “You need to check that boot. There’s something on it or hidden in it. She just conned you! You need to go back and check it!”
But he isn’t looking at me. His attention is towards ringside as he nods and gestures. “It’s too late,” he mutters. “I’ve just called for the bell.”
“You’ve just called for the bell?” I yell in his face. “Oh isn’t that just great! You......”
SHIT!!!! He just called for the bell! Which was promptly rung. Panic rises in my belly. I spin around in wide eyed alarm, hoping against hope that I am going to see you stood in your corner, waiting nicely until I am ready to start. But somehow I doubt it. I really, really do. YT
ERICA:
I prance around in front of my corner, fluffing and flipping my dark streaked hair about arrogantly, my shiny hips swaying side to side dramatically. I giggle as I see you jaw with the ref obviously flustered. When some fans near my corner join your cause by yelling at me “CHEATER!” I suddenly STOP my prancing and turn my gaze to look over my shoulder and down toward them and cast an evil glare with my heavily made up eyes. They seem to hush quickly and some even seem to shrink back deeper into their folding seats as my purple lips curl into an evil sneer...Mtc
I hear the bell clang DINGGGGG
?...causing me to look across the ring to see you still jawing with the ref. Of course, a good sportswoman would wait until you finish pleading your case with the ref and have indicated readiness to compete...but I ain’t a good sport hehe and I’m creeping across the ring in a semi circle to stay behind you...quickening the pace...then RUSHING toward you, and by the time you turn to face center ring I’m right there in front of you, grabbing your shoulders and PULLING your upper body toward me as I bend to my left slightly and SLAM my shiny right knee up hard aiming it low in your belly a good 2-3 inches below the little indentation in your tight suit where the fabric covers your belly button. Yt
BRANDI:
As I spin around, eyes wide, mouth twisted tight with anxiety, there you are right in my personal space. The shock of finding you so close makes me jump, but I don’t have time to even react as you lay hands on me and pull me in. I can smell your perfume, feel the heat coming off your firm toned body.
Then up comes the knee.
BBBAWWWWHHHRRRER!!!!
Your shiny nylon clad knee sinks low into my gleaming leather clad belly. It penetrates right into my womanly vitals just above my crotch. My ass jerks up and back and my boots actually leave the mat slightly as my mouth gapes open and the air explodes from my lungs. I hear a few shocked gasps from the crowd at such a nasty violent move and I feel sick as I stagger a step forwards and then slump onto you, my arms wrapping around you to keep me upright, my face falling into the cleavage on show in your sexy low cut purple suit. My legs have momentarily gone and I cling onto you my body core shuddering as I gasp, “Ohmygawdd! You’ve hurt me!” into your already hot tits.
ERICA:
I hear a disappointed GROANNNNN from the crowd combined with loud BOOOOOOS and scattered shouts of LOW BLOW COME ON REF! I giggle as I see the expression of shock and pain on your face. As you slump forward and bury your face in my bosom I support you and giggle again as I wrap my left arm around your back and hold you firmly as my right hand grabs the hair along the back of your head to control your head then PUSH your face even deeper against my titties trying to briefly smother you for my amusement as I cackle to nearby fans “Hey look everybody she wanted a closer look at my boobies haha!” Yt
BRANDI:
“Ggrrrrrrrrr!” I growl with anger and frustration as you try to humiliate me in front of the huge crowd. I stamp my boots in fury as you grip me to you and my left hand gestures to the ref to point out the hair hold as he stands open mouthed and stares at the scene in front of him. Your boobs block some much needed air but I am driven by fury and shame. I slide my right hand up between your legs to grip your ass cheeks whilst my left arm goes under your right armpit and around your back. With a loud gasp of effort I try to hoist the big gal off her feet and then drop down into a backbreaker position hoping to bring you down sideways onto my out stretched thigh for a rib breaker. Yt
ERICA:
I laugh as I see your hand waving frantically but the ref seems mesmerized by the action. I start turning planning to display your predicament to different sections of the crowd. Suddenly I feel your arm snake between my legs and put upward pressure on my sex “Wha..what are you...whoaaa!” Before I know it I’m sideways and UP off the mat then falling “AGHHH!” burning pain flashes thru my side and ribs as I bounce off your knee and roll forward flopping to the mat with a thump as the fans erupt YESSSSS GET HER BRANDI! I roll to the nearby ropes and rub my ribs with one hand as my other hand grabs the rope and I pull myself up quickly snarling at you “You little bitch!” I hiss as I get to my feet and hurl myself toward you raising and extending my right arm and swinging it at your throat trying to rip your head off with a clothesline move! Yt
BRANDI:
I feel a surge of adrenaline as I manage to pull off the big move and you bounce off my knee violently. But you’re tough, resilient, and so fucking bouncy, going firstly to the ropes to get some space between us and then up to your feet real fast. I can see you’re mad now. And I can see how nasty and dangerous you are when you’re hurt. Cursing me you come at me with frightening pace, your big black boots pounding the mat and shuddering the ring boards under me. You are like a freight train and I’m in its path. Your arm extends, directed at my throat. I have no choice, I duck, hoping you’re gonna miss me so I can run on, bounce back off the far ropes and fashion some kind of counter move whilst you have lost your composure........yt
ERICA:
I swing angrily and hit nothing but a few wisps of your hair that FLIP upward as your head ducks down. The fans go OHHHH as I stumble off balance slightly from the big miss “Nhh shit!” I hiss as I regain my balance, hearing a BOING! noise from behind me. Oh shit that sounds like something bouncing off the ropes my mind races as I spin around toward center ring not knowing what to expect “Where’d you GO bitch?!” Yt
BRANDI:
I blow out my cheeks in sheer relief as your out stretched arm whistles over my head, ruffling nothing but a few strands of my hair. As planned I keep running, breaking into a giggle of relieved glee as I turn, take the pristine ropes to my back And use them to slingshot me right back at ya. I run hard, gold boots clattering madly on the firmly sprung ring floor before leaping up as I reach you, twisting in mid air, latching my lower legs around your head pivoting towards the mat, bringing you with me, hopefully completing a well executed Hurricanrana! YT
ERICA:
As I turn and step forward I don’t get more than a step before I see a BLUR of leather and gold boots FLYING at me “What the fuuu...whoaaa!” Before I know it the boots clamp around my head I go flipping forward and over and down “AIIEEE...UNGHH!” landing on my back with a BAM! that shakes the ring and draws another roar of delight from the fan YESSSS! My momentum causes me to roll sideways a bit taking me near the ropes. I realize I’m close to the ropes so I do another quick half roll to go under the ropes and step down to the ground to buy myself some time. I shuffle along ringside rubbing my lower back cursing and muttering. Fans nearby laugh and point yelling CHICKENNNNN! for me leaving the ring. Yt
BRANDI:
Another surge of adrenaline as I nail the move. It feels great to flip you and hear the crash on the ring boards as you hit them hard. I’m eager to follow up as I land on the mat and roll quickly up to my feet only to see you rolling out of the ring under the bottom rope! “NNOOOOO! GET HER BACK IN HERE!” I shriek at the ref, the excitement of the moment and this big occasion getting to me now. All the ref does is start a ponderous count. Is it twenty over here in the good ol US of A? Or thirty or whatever. Actually, I can’t be bothered thinking about it. I can’t contain myself anyway. I duck thru the ropes and stand on the ring apron, watching you as you move along the apron and then as you come into range I launch myself off! Arms extended, dark hair flying behind me I look to take you down with a big cross body from the apron to the arena floor......yt
ERICA:
The fans nearby are making raucous noise. Only a metal railing separates me from the unwashed masses and I can almost feel the heat of their breath as they give me hell verbally. I sneer and jaw with them “Shut UP you idiots!” Soon though they seem to be looking past me...and up...some of them so excited they even nudge their companions and point anxiously at something on the apron. My senses go on high alert as I realize you must have exited the ring. And the fans’ upward gaze tells me you’re on the apron and not the ground. So when I turn, I know where to look and what to look for. I turn slowly...not looking upward to give away the fact that I’m ready...turning a bit more...then when I see your form on the apron bathed in a silhouette of bright lights ...I wait until it begins to fly toward me...and then LUNGE down and to my left into a tight crouch against the side of the ring apron trying to duck under your aerial attack and cause you to flop roughly to the grass infield of the ball field. Yt
BRANDI:
It feels great to go airborne. I’m so confident of nailing you as you stagger around on the infield. I brace for impact with your big firm bod.....but it doesn’t come. You vanish and another impact replaces it a split second later. AAWWFFUUCCKKK! I growl as I hit and bounce and roll and come to rest by the metal guard rail at the feet of the shocked fans, where I lie, winded and hurt
MC: Oh my! Massive miscue from the Brandi there! Guess Erica was just too ring savvy for the challenger!
FC: Yeah, and now she’s outside the ring with Ms Deville.
MC: Not the place you want to be, eh Bonnie?”
FC: No siree! She loves to get down and dirty out there! Yt
ERICA:
I hear a GASP and groans of concern and frustration from the nearby fans. I glance up at one jumbo tron in time to see a short replay of you flying thru the air and crashing to the grassy surface. I rise and strut the short distance to where you ended up, my shiny hips swaying confidently, almost sensually with each step. I glance up to the ropes when I hear the ref leaning over them waving his hand slowly as he starts a new count since we’re both now out of the ring ...1!!!............I giggle as I pucker my purple lips and smack a playful kiss toward him then raise my right foot and STOMP the sole of my pretty black boot toward your side and ribs as you lie there next to the railing “Stupid bitch you’re not smart enough for ME HAHA!” Yt
BRANDI:
UUUHHHH! You nasty gleaming black boot thuds into my ribs, beating even more air out of me and leaving me breathless and hurt. I grip onto the metal rails next to me and feebly try to drag myself up. The last thing I want is for you to go to work on me with those boots of yours. My mouth gapes as I desperate try to haul myself up, dark hair now sweat soaked smeared across my face.
MC: Wilson’s in trouble!
FC: You better believe it! She made a huge mistake taking it outside the ring with Erica!
ERICA:
The commotion dislodges a section of the railing creating a slight opening. I hear the ref counting slowly yelling ...2......COME ON LADIES I DON’T WANT A TITLE MATCH DOUBLE COUBT OUT!....I slither thru the opening and grab her hand of a little old lady and PULL her up out of her seat “Outa my way granny! Haha!” With her out of the seat I push her away rudely and grab her now empty chair, folding it closed as I stalk thru the railing to the inside again, holding the legs of the files chair and cocking it behind my right shoulder, and as you hold the rail working your way to stand up...I unwind and SWING the chair around aiming the folded seat & back section straight for the middle of your back as the ref resumes his slow count ....3!!!!!.......Yt
BRANDI:
As my senses slowly restore themselves I become aware of my situation. And also what you are up to. Slowly but surely I get to my feet on wobbly legs and all the time I am aware of you busily ferreting around in the crowd. Sliding thru the gap in the fence, then sliding back......with a fucking chair!
I can see the faces of the crowd as they stare at me in my skimpy leather suit as it strains to preserve my modesty. I can sense their pity for me. Maybe I’m a better face than I thought! The faces of the crowd also tell me that you are about to do something bad. Really bad. I can see the dread in their eyes, one or two even gesture a warning with their hands.
But I don’t need it. I know where you are coming from here. In my peripheral vision I can see you holding the chair, bringing it up, bracing and then swinging it around. As you do I lean forwards on the guard rail letting it take some of my weight and I kick my sturdy fishnet covered right leg up and back, hoping that my gold boot meets the chair as it comes round at me and so blocking it, smashing it back into you, anything to try to avert a severe beating!
ERICA:
My lips are curled into a wicked smile as I swing the chair around expecting a horrific impact with your back. Out of nowhere I see a flash of gold shoot rearward and hear a loud CLANG as your boot absorbs the momentum of the chair. Luckily for me I’m swinging it roundhouse style so the recoil doesn’t send the chair straight back into my face but it does rebound into my right shoulder “AGHHH! Shit!” I hiss as the chair goes flying out of my grasp and clatters off to the side against the bottom of the railing. The fans cheer your counter move YESSSS! as I rub my shoulder instinctively and back up a step. My eyes glance down toward the chair, then at you, calculating whether I might be able to retrieve it before you could reach me. Doing some quick calculations I decide what I really need is to buy myself a little more time. I spin and slide under the ropes to break the ref’s count as to me, quickly shimmying at a diagonal angle and slithering under the ropes on the adjacent side of the ring and drop down to the ground there to put some distance between you and me as I smooth my hair and try to catch my breath. Yt
BRANDI:
The impact with the metal chair reverberates through my boot and down my leg right to my hip and into my body core. Heck, you were swinging that chair with some force. I’m so relieved it’s now lying on the floor. But as for you, you are gone. At first I think you are spotting back to the ring, which would suit me just fine. However, I realise you are just re starting the count as you slither out on the other side.
This match is getting serious now and the little lull in the action allows the tension to impact on the crowd who have fallen quiet and thoughtful. After the initial flurry of excitement and fury during the opening we are now both calculating strategy, preserving energy, assessing our opponents strengths and weaknesses in the light of experience.......basically doing the stuff that professional fighters do.
And right now I have a decision to make. You are regrouping over the other side, recovering your strength and composure. I could do the same by slowly returning to the ring and then waiting for you. Chances are you would run the count down before you came back in refreshed. In other words we would reset the values. On the other hand though, I could pursue you out of the ring. Keep us both running on part empty and see how that works out. Reset and play safe but allow the bigger experienced ringwise champion to restore all her advantages over me. Or I take a chance? What’ll it be Brandi hon?
Fuck it! I set off running around the ring.
Keeping low in the vain hope that you might not see me coming. Some hope, as the crowd start to bubble up. At least they like my spirit, my passion. Trouble is spirit and passion alone don’t win titles! I turn the corner of the ring to reach your side. I lower my head still further, drive hard with my big well muscles thighs and come at you with an angry growl, looking to take you to the floor with a spear........”GGGGGRRRRRRRRRR!!!”
ERICA:
As I huff and puff and try to regain my composure I hear a commotion from the fans. Something has them very excited. I turn to look and see you rounding the corner! “Oh SHIT!” I squeal as I spin to face the other direction and take off running at full speed, titties bouncing vigorously underneath the stretchy purple fabric of my suit. Not letting you get close enough to spear me to kick me or whatever else you might have in mind. When the fans see me take off in full flight they REALLY erupt into a chorus of excited cheers and laughter and shouts of GET HER BRANDI!...AND SHE’S GOT THE CHICKEN RUNNING SCARED NOW! I spring along one side, sharp turn then sprint again, another turn, glancing over my shoulder to see you still in pursuit. The ref is bewildered as he turns to watch us that he forgets his count for a bit. And finally chest heaving and winded I arrive back where we start d and see the little old lady ambling along trying to retrieve her chair. Unable to keep running I GRAB her by the arms and SPIN around to face you, holding her arms firmly as I hold her between us as a shield “STOP! Stop right THERE, bitch! Don’t come ANY closer! Haha!” I gulp in air as fans nearby erupt in angry boos at my tactics. Yt
BRANDI:
What I’m doing here is risky of course. A headlong run into the danger of a possible counter move from a crafty opponent.....a big boot to the face....a deft side step followed by a drop toehold. I need to be ready for anything. But what I’m absolutely, one hundred per cent not ready for is when you turn and run! I watch a little confused as you sprint off your big firm butt cheeks working from side to side, up and down, stretching the shiny purple suit to the maximum. The crowd are yelling at me to chase you and so I set off after you as I get carried away in the moment.
“Come back here, Erica, you coward!” I’m yelling after you as I run hard once more. Tits bouncing, thick thighs shuddering lightly under dark fishnet. I’m surprised at how quick you are. We have practically done a full circuit of the ring and I’m no closer to catching you. I put on an extra spurt of effort though and hurtle round the corner of the ring that has the ring steps and ......
Stop dead in my tracks.
You are stood there, gripping onto a little old lady who looks scared to hell. Now I am really confused. I was warned that you were the ultimate heel but I never imagined someone could stoop to this! I take a step back. Nodding in assent as you order me to back off, I spread my arms a little in appeal. “Okay, okay. Just let her go Erica. Just let her go and I’ll take her back to her seat, nice and safe.” I say calmly, trying to play the good girl here. “Cmon, let me show her back to her seat before she gets hurt.” I shift my gaze to the gap in the metal fence and then back to the old lady. “Please. Pax. What do ya say? Let me take her back to her seat and then you and me can get back to it.” I wait for your decision, the ball now firmly in your court.
ERICA:
I giggle wickedly as I see you stop suddenly in your tracks and I see the expression of shock on your face “Ha HA! That’s right stay back bitch!” The fans are enraged booing and screaming. I can feel the heat of their anger as they watch anxiously nearby. I twist the lady slightly jerking a bit to keep her unsteady and under control. Giggling again as I hear the ref yelling for me to turn her loose. “Just a minute sweetie I will hehe!” I step forward, pressing her closer to you as I smile and express my agreement to your request “ok...ok...you want her? Here you can HAVE her!” I punctuate my statement by PUSHING her toward you suddenly trying to shove her into your chest forcing you to catch and steady her so she won’t fall. And as soon as I see your bodies meet and steady each other I lunge and grab your left arm and hair as I SPIN and try to use my grip to turn you toward the ring and smash your face down onto the apron. Yt
BRANDI:
“Ok, ok, you want her? Here, you can HAVE her!” The crowd scream in shock as you fling the old lady into me. I have no choice but to catch her and keep her on her feet, holding her steady and reassuring her. “It’s okay, I gotcha.” I tell her. But no sooner do I have her stabilised than you come for me, grabbing my hair, my arm. It is all I can do to ease the old lady aside to safety before you spin me towards the apron.
UHHNN!!!!!
The pristine pale blue apron comes up to meet my face. My head erupts in pain and my vision blurs as I stagger back holding, my head with one hand before sinking down onto one knee before I fall down. “Oh god. Oh my god.” I gasp as the crowd screams at you in outrage and fury. One guy is almost hysterical leaning over the guardrail and yelling, “You dirty bitch, Erica! You dirty cheating bitch!”
ERICA:
The boos and screams are almost deafening even in an open air stadium setting as the fans are in a hot rage. The ref has renewed his effort to try to restore some order waving his hand over the ropes in a new count, this time a little quicker...1...2...I laugh wickedly as I hear your face thump on the apron and see you sag to one knee. When the irate fan leans over the railing screaming that I’m a cheat I glance over my shoulder toward him and slap my right hand on my shiny hosed ass cheek and chuckle “Kiss it, baby haha!” and smack a playful kiss toward him and with my purple painted lips which seems to just infuriate him even more. But my attention turns to you, grabbing your hair and arm to haul you up to your feet as the ref drones on....3....then shifting my grip to your hair and a handful of leather along the left leg hole of your suit, twisting it to wedgie you even more than the thong suit normally does, then use my grip on hair and suit to try to SLING you under the ropes and into the ring again “GET your sorry ass in there!” Yt
BRANDI:
As my head swirls I become aware of angry shouts from the crowd, your voice, cocky and provocative and the ref droning put yet another count. Of course, he doesn’t want this match to end in a count out, but he has to try to show some authority.
Fortunately for him, you are intent on taking the action back to the ring. I wince as you snatch hold of my hair, twisting my head to one side, your other hand gripping my suit so tightly and hauling my thong high and hard up into my ass cheeks so that I feel as if I am being violated. Unsurprisingly, I am pretty co-operative when you urge me to get my “sorry ass” back into the ring. You heave me in and I roll onto the rubberised pale blue mat. Then I keep going over once and then over again to try to get some distance between me and you.
I’m lay on my back in mid ring, one hand on my head, my chest heaving up and down madly in my low cut suit, belly pumping, one leg drawn up. The overhead TV camera zooms in for a big close up of the scantily clad, suffering challenger. I know what the director and the viewers want so I lay it on thick, writhing a little, mouth half open, eyes half closed, my laboured breath practically coming out as a series of soft moans. Win or lose, these guys are going to book me again for sure, but I’m in this too far now to lose!
ERICA:
I slink under the ropes as the ref’s count reaches ....6...then he stops the count and waves his hands together yelling “OK wrestle!” I crawl a short distance seductively and rise as I near your form in center ring....”Awww poor baby are you tired haha!” But I don’t wait for an answer, instead I hover to your right side, raise my right boot up and STOMP down hard aiming the sole of my pretty black boot low in your gut, a couple of inches below the slight indentation where the black leather fabric covers your belly button. Yt
BRANDI:
FC: There, see, just like I said. Wilson has run out of steam already. The champion is about to establish total control.
MC: Mm maybe so, Bonnie, but I’m really not too sure about that business with the old lady. How is that the behaviour of a champion?
FC: Ohhh, pullleeeasse! Jim, just grow a pair. Erica was just taking care of business. And that’s exactly the behaviour of a champion, and a great one at that. She always does what needs to be done. Like right now! Oohhhhh! Big boot stomp to the Brit girl’s belly. I told ya Brandi needed to worry about those boots!
I’ve tried to clear my swirling head, unscramble my poor brains but my vision has only cleared in time to see a purple clad figure looming over me.
“UUHHNN!” Again you go low into my belly, looking to damage my female vitals. My lower abs are intended, the heavy shiny black boot penetrating real deep. I flip onto my side, my hands pawing at the leather material of my suit and wretch loudly, saliva spraying from my mouth onto the pristine sky blue mat “ GGARRGHHH!”
I need to move but the pain and the breathlessness won’t let me so instead I lie on my side, body bleating as my chest pumps madly and my hand clutches my aching lower belly.
ERICA:
I laugh wickedly as I feel my boot sink deep into your womb and see your body thrash and flail on the mat. As the fans respond in a mixture of boos and shouts of encouragement for you COME ON BRANDI GET UP!...I strut around, circling you confidently like a lioness stalking a downed gazelle...my shiny hips swaying sensually with each step as I point at you and taunt the fans “Awww Look you fools I think she’s crying hehe!” I reach down and grab your hair with both hands and JERK your head to and fro to force you up into a sitting position in front of me. Then I drop to one knee behind you, my right knee on the mat, left foot on the mat with my legs opened wide enough to get close to your body. I snake my left arm around the front of your throat, then clasp my hands together behind your right ear and FLEX my arm muscles so I can SQUEEZE and try to compress my left bicep and forearm against the sides of your throat to compress your carotid arteries. “What do ya say about THAT, bitch?! Haha!” I savor the sensation of your upper body pulled snugly against my bosom, inhaling deeply as I breathe in the sweet but slightly sweaty scent of your hair. Yt
BRANDI:
The whole stadium erupts and gets to its feet when you slap the sleeper on me. There is a huge roar of initial instinctive and cruel excitement as they watch you maul me up to a seated position and then expertly snare your arms about my head, followed by a groan of dismay as they realise this is a finishing move and you could be about to retain your title once again.
FC: Sleeper! Sleeper hold! Ooh yesssss! This is it! Right here! This is it!
MC: Oh my! Poor Brandi!
FC: ‘ Poor Brandi’? Oh poo! She just wasn’t good enough. I told you she didn’t have the right to be in the same ring as Erica!”
MC: Yes but still. Erica didn’t exactly fight fair did she and this is such a nasty hold!
FC: Yeah, it is isn’t it. I love it!
My eyes bug out wide with panic as I realise you have me in a sleeper hold. Your firm muscled arms are clamped about my head, your forearm pressing neatly into my carotid artery cutting off the blood flow to my brain. I can feel your hot tits pressing into my back, your face nuzzled into my hair as you snuggle me in close to you in a deadly embrace. I can smell your perfume, your sweat, and I can hear your eager breathing as you scent the finish.
The ref kneels in front of us, looking at me anxiously, worryingly concerned for my welfare, as I sit there, legs splayed out, crotch barely covered by my thonged suit. He looks at me and I look back and he can see the fear in my eyes.
Oh my god! Is this it for me? Is my title shot over? Gotta do something, although even so soon my thought processes are starting to get sluggish.
My first response is to bring my right hand up and try to slide it in between your arm and my neck to try to ease the pressure and buy me some time.
My eyes are slipping in and out of focus, the absolute bedlam of noise from the crowd is beginning to fade and go fuzzy.
Focus, Brandi girl. Gotta act fast.
My next move is going to be to bring my legs together a little and then plant my boots to try to push back against you.
The ref is saying something to me. I can’t hear what he is saying and I stare at him blankly.
I try to say something to him but it is as if my mouth won’t work and tiny bit of drool escapes the corner and trickles onto my chin.
He looks shocked by this and immediately takes hold of the wrist of my free arm, raises it and let’s go. I’m horrified when it flops down to the mat! I’m scared now. What’s happening to me? Oh god, She’s putting me away!
Gotta go! Gotta go right now!
My hope is that as I push on you it will cause you to shove back on me to stop me forcing you backwards. If and when that happens, I’m gonna use the extra leverage of your counter shove to drive with my strong legs and try to force us both up, just a foot or so will do it. Then I have to risk taking my one working hand, the one wedged between your arm and my neck, and use it to grip your hair tightly, before I drop us down, hoping to drive your face into the top of my head and break the hold. It’s high risk. And it’s a long shot. But it’s all I got as the ref raises my other hand and it drops limply to the mat once more.
ERICA:
I work the hold, grinding your neck and savoring the feeling as your body struggles but clearly begins to wither in my grasp. When the ref raises your hand and releases it and it flops to the mat I cackle wicked “ha HA! She’s finished do it again! Do it!” I hiss with evil glee as the fans seem overwhelmed with shock and dread but some still shout COME ON BRANDI! I laugh again “You’re wasting your breath you idiooo...wha?!” I feel you push your back firmly against my body so I tighten my ass and leg muscles instinctively to try to stand my ground but that makes us both rise up off the mat slightly and I feel you grabbing my head “What the fuuu UNGHHH!” Before I know it you drop and my chin SMACKS against your shoulder. My head snaps back and my arms unravel from your throat as I flop back onto my ass with a THUMP that shakes the ring. The fans erupt YESSSSS GO BRANDI! I shake my head trying to clear the cobwebs “nhhh shit!” I hiss as I rub my chin and glare at you then realize I better get up so I roll onto my left hip and push up to one knee, pausing to shake my head again to finish clearing my thoughts, then put one hand on the mat and the other on my hosed thigh and PUSH to rise and stand then turn to my left to face you again hoping I beat you in the race to get to our feet “You little shit I’m gonna kick your ass!” Yt
BRANDI:
I drive hard with my legs, my thick thighs burning with the effort of forcing both of us up off the mat. But it works! It actually works. I was hoping that your natural aggression would cause you to resist me and that is exactly what you do. But as soon as we go up, down we go. Your face hits my shoulder with a little smack and we bounce apart.
The crowd go crazy. Certainly we are giving them what they want. Back and forth until we are both battered and bedraggled. The promoters and TV people will be pleased at least. Well most of the Tv people anyway.
MC: Yess. Great move! Great counter. Brandi isn’t out of this match yet!
FC: What? What? I don’t believe this! That should have been it. Why wasn’t that it?
It nearly was ‘it’. And it still could be. I’m feeling sick and dizzy and I’m not sure my legs are working well enough to allow me to stand and I can hear you spitting fury at me so you are sure to be swarming all over me very shortly.
Now it is my turn to turn chicken and exit the ring for a breather. I roll out under the nearest bottom rope and drop to the floor with a hefty thud. It hurts but I don’t care. I need time for the restored blood flow to kick in. I just hope I don’t throw up in front of all these fans in the meantime. Best keep on the move I tell myself in my befuddled little head. I reach up with my hands, grasp the edge of the apron, pull myself up and stagger away on spaghetti legs. I’m a bedraggled figure now. Sweat soaked, shiny little leather suit barely covering the essentials, dark hair damp and wild, fishnets tattered. The cameras love me and so do the fans as they lean over the guard rail to urge me on.
ERICA:
I turn to find you “where’d she ...hey! Where do you think YOU’RE GOING BITCH?!” I lurch toward you as I see you slipping under the ropes. The ref wants to discourage more outside the ring action and grabs my arm firmly but gently turning me away from the ropes. The fans are going wild with excitement. Waves of noise rain down toward the ring from all sections of the stadium. As I jaw with the ref I point at some fans near the far corner “Hey you better watch those fools they’re trying to throw stuff in the ring!” He glances and sees that some of the fans do seem very agitated and while they’re not throwing things he reflexively moves that way waving his hand to them trying to settle them down. As he turns from me I dip and slink thru the ropes to the apron, grab the clunky shiny title belt from the post and hop down off the apron and creep along ringside as you stagger along the railing where fans are yelling encouragement and the closest ones even reach across to pat you shoulder supportively. I hold the leather strap of the belt so the shiny metallic plaque section sticks out front as I draw it back behind my right shoulder and creep closer..closer...then SWING it around aiming to whack the metallic section of the belt across your upper back and neck. Yt
BRANDI:
I know that the ref will be anxious to get the action back in the ring as soon as possible, so I decide to walk around the corner of the ring and then roll in. I’m staggering a little still and trying to adjust my suit into order, tucking my boobs into the top of my suit snugly and easing my fingers into the leg holes to pull the leather material down as low as I can on my hips. My vision is clearing, I don’t feel as sick and the sounds of the arena are becoming sharp again.
I focus on a stupid looking spotty girl in the audience. She is screaming at me. What’s she say? What is she trying to tell me?
UHHHNNNN!
What the hell just hit me !?!? The heavy metallic thud in my back knocks the wind from my lungs and I am flung face first into the floor, my face in the short grass. I lie there, one gold boot kicking up weakly as a furious torrent of boos pour out at you. No need to tell me what that was. Yet another underhand move from you. I’m not sure how much of this I can take. My tank is running on empty and this onslaught from the queen of heels is relentless!
ERICA:
The fans are in a boiling rage, booing, screaming at the ref, pointing at me and the weapon in my hands. As the ref finally spins to look our way I lay the belt onto the apron slyly and raise both hands up gesturing innocently to the ref as I smile “What?! I’m just trying to help the clumsy bitch back into the ring ...she ..fell hehe!” The fans immediately cry out NO SHE’S LYING...SHE CHEATED...SHE HIT HER WITH THE BELT! But with so many people saying so many different things at once the ref seems unable to decipher any of it and waves for us to get back in the ring. I give him a thumbs up signal and reach down grabbing your hair and then twisting to my left as I pull you up by the hair and then SLING you, trying to literally throw you under the ropes and into the ring by the hair “GET IN THERE LOSER!” Yt
BRANDI:
I know you’ll be straight on me, keeping up the relentless pressure on your opponent. That is why you are the undisputed champion. That is why all those different girl wrestlers have fall to you before me. But at least your little bit of play acting with the ref gives me a brief time to recover.
Still when you grab my hair and heave me up, I don’t resist. But I’m shocked by what you do next. So are the crowd. With a little tearing sound some of my hair roots actually unzip as you fling me back into the ring under the bottom rope by my long dark tresses. The crowd let out a collective gasp at the violence of the move and a sharp eyed TV camera operator picks up several strands of dark hair that have actually been ripped from my scalp and are now lying on the ring apron.
My scalp is on fire, there is some slight blood too. But at least I’m ultra adrenalised now as I roll into the ring and come up onto one knee to toss my hair from my eyes and look for you. Where are ya, ya big bitch? Cos I’m ready for you. Or at least as ready as I’ll ever be!
ERICA:
I hear the fans gasp as I grab a rope with my left hand for support and HOP up onto the apron. I stand there luxuriously like I’m a ballerina holding the barre as I raise my right hand and look at it and see strands of hair tangled in my fingers. I laugh haughtily as I wiggle my fingers to send the hairs flittering away in the breeze “Mwahaha!” Then I dip and slink thru the ropes and into the ring, expecting you to be in a heap on the mat. But instead you’re already up to one knee with a look of fury on your face “How the fuck?!” I have to admit I’m shocked at your resilience and I begin to wonder what the hell it is going to take to put you away. I sneer “Stupid cxnt why won’t you stay DOWN?!” I hiss as I ball my right hand into a fist and lurch toward you, cocking my fist as I close the distance...first you wouldn’t just go the fuck to sleep in my sleeper then you wouldn’t just check out after I whacked you with the belt. I’m out of patience and yeah I’m a little flustered and yeah I know over a hundred damn wrestling moves but in my frustration and shock all that comes to mind right now is to try to knock your goddamn block off so I wind up big as I close the distance and swing a looping roundhouse punch toward that pretty little jaw “Eat it, cxnt!” Yt
BRANDI:
I watch as you ascend to the ring and stand on the apron. I think about rushing you as you take your time to preen and pose, but I don’t have enough left for that right now so I stay mid ring and wait for the champion to come to me. Then as to slip thru the ropes your mood changes. The fact that I’m up right still seems to get to you. Arrogance is replaced by fury and. Definite loss of composure, indicated by the foul abuse you hurl at me and the sudden rush as you come at me swinging.
I gotta be honest I’m terrified. Erica totally pissed off is not a nice thing. But at least fear enables me to react. I come to my feet as you reach me. I’m not gonna get hit down on one knee if I can help it. Fuck, I’m not gonna get hit at all if I can help it! Neither of us are razor sharp at this stage. You swing at me like a boxer in round 10. I duck under it. Use your momentum to spin you. I’m in around back now. My arms go around your waist. I force my body to yours, my hot tits momentarily pressed into your sweat soaked back. Then I fling my self backwards. Hoping to get the big gal up and over for a German Suplex!
ERICA:
My painted lips curled into a wicked sneer as I wind up and swing big, trying to literally knock your head clean off your neck if I can but there’s a blur of motion at the last split second as you duck and my fist hits nothing but air “Nhhh! Shit!” I hiss as my big miss causes me to stumble and spin. Before I know it you’re behind me and I feel something digging into my waist. Looking down i see it’s your arms. I reach for them as I feel them tighten “W-wait..no no NOOOO!” But before I can pry your arms loose I’m flying up and back and down “Whoaaaa....UNGHHH!” Letting out a big grunt as the ring BAM! rattles with the impact of the back of my neck and shoulders striking the mat harshly. My ass and legs flop up in the air and there’s sufficient moment to carry my feet and legs on past my upper body and I literally do a full rearward roll to end up face down on the mat above you. As I lie there kissing the canvas i hear the fans erupt YESSSSS GET HER BRANDI! I groan as I put my hands on the mat underneath my shoulders and push up off the mat, shaking my head trying to clear the haze as I curse and mutter “nhhh...fuckin...bitch...shhiii...” the fans sense some momentum and try to urge you on as large sections start clapping in unison chanting BRAN-DI! I push up and get to one knee pausing to suck in a gulp of air, one hand on the mat, the other hand on my hosed thigh, I PUSH to rise and stand and turn to find you to see if I’ve gotten to my feet first. “You sorry bitch...I’m ...I’m gonna kick your ass nhhh” Yt
BRANDI:
“AAWWWWWW!” With a soft moan I manage to heave you up and over to execute the suplex. Once I get you thru vertical, your own weight takes you and you flip right over. The crowd erupts. and although I say it myself, it’s a great move! I lie there, chest pumping up and down madly as I gulp down air. It took a big surge of intense effort to lift you and I need a few moments to recover in spite of the crowd frantically urging me to keep on you.
After what seems like an age, I roll over onto my front, push to my knees and then to my feet, wiping my lank dark hair from my eyes. As I do so, I’m looking for you anxious to see how much the suplex took out of you. To my dismay, you are clambering up also. Boiling mad as usual, your tinted hair wild, shiny purple suit stained dark with sweat. You’re gaining your feet, looking for me, a bit confused I bet from being dumped on your head just now.
I take three quick steps to meet you as you turn to find me. I’m desperate to maintain the momentum and know I’ve got to try to keep this fast and furious now. It’s my only chance against you. I leap up just as you turn and focus on me. Twisting in I’d air, I shoot my sturdy fishnet covered legs, hoping to nail you with both gleaming gold boots full in the chest for a flying drop kick!
BRANDI:
Turning ...a bewildered and bedraggled expression on my heavily made up face ...”wh-where’d the bitch go nhhh” but as I turn just a little more I learn the hard way where you are...as I’m greeted by shiny boots FLYING at me “Oh shiii UNGHHH!” One boot catches me squarely at the base of my sternum, the other nails my left titty as I’m turning. The fans go OOOOOHHHH with admiration for your surprising athleticism. I’m as shocked as the fans at how fucking HIGH you are able to get! My turning motion and the offset impact points cause me to spin as i recoil from the kick, spinning to my left and lurching forward. I flop to my knees near the side ropes, the impact rattling the ring, and the momentum causes my upper body to pitch forward into the lower ropes. As the fans erupt YESSSSS GET HER BRANDI!...FINISH THE BITCH!...I end up on my knees, leaning forward against the middle rope for support. My boobs rest atop the rope, the weight of my body sagging into that rope causing my purple spandex clad titties to bulge and swell against the stretchy fabric of my suit, giving the fans nearby an interesting view. My arms hang over the rope as I lean against it heavily. One of the cameras zooms for a close shot of my face to display on the big screens. An expression of weariness and dazed confusions on my face as I groan. My one perfect makeup is smeared and smudged and one of my fake eyelashes has come partially loose, now hanging by just one corner as it flitters and flutters comically each time I blink my eyes “nhhh..shiii...h-how the fuuuu...ohhh” The fans are going wild as 40,000 people watch with buzzing anticipation to see what you’ll do as they clap and stomp in unison chanting BRAN-DI!! BRAN-DI!! Yt
BRANDI:
My boots make good solid contact with you, the impact jolting up my legs to my hips. I am delighted that I am able to nail you with the big drop kick and even more delighted that the sole of my boot has crushed your big left tit. Shit! That must have really hurt ya! And I’m fucking glad!
As I fall away to land heavily on my hip and roll onto my front, I watch you stagger and the drop. I’m a bit dismayed that you are still vertical, at least after a fashion as you loll, punch drunk on the middle rope. From behind I can see your broad back glistening with a fine sheen of sweat and your butt, almost entirely exposed, your purple suit riding high up your ass. Whilst a quick glance up to the giant screen shows me your face, forlorn, weary, pain filled. Fuck, this cxnt is ripe for the taking!
But you draped over the ropes kind of messes up my usual finisher options. But maybe, just maybe you are presenting me with an opportunity.......I practised this in training but I’ve never dared to try and pull it off in a match. But here goes. Shit or fucking bust!
I quickly gain my feet and run to the ropes on the opposite side of the ring to you. I fall back into them, using their considerable springiness to catapult me across the ring. The turnbuckles creak violently as I come off the bright red ropes, and I run hard, boobs bouncing madly in my low cut leather suit, my gold boots clattering loudly on the well sprung ring boards. I arrive at the ropes alongside you to your left and stoop down a little. My right hand grasps the top rope, my left hand the middle rope, and I swing my legs through, pivoting on my rope grip and hoping to bring my legs through and around to nail ya with a 619 a la Rey Mysterio!
ERICA:
I groan as I hang there on the rope, knowing I need to move but my body burns with pain with each little movement...even breathing hurts. I hear the fans going wild urging you on oh I wish they would shut the fuck up. I glance up at one of the screens and see it transitions from showing a close up of me fuck I look bad!...to a wide shot of the ring with you flinging yourself vigorously into the far ropes the hurtling across the ring. Oh shit oh SHIT! I’ve got to do something. Anything! But while my weary brain is still trying to come up with options my eyes are drawn away from the big screen as your shiny boots suddenly come FLYING at me from the side then directly toward me “ohhhh fuuuu....UNGHHHHHHH!!!!!” Both boots smash straight into my face. I fly backwards like I’ve been shot out of a cannon. Flying all the way to center ring. As I fly thru the air it seems like a flash of light exploded inside my head and then darkness engulfs me from all sides as the arena lights above seem to flicker then go dark
By the time I land on my back with a BAM!!! I’m KO’d....eyes closed, nobody home...as my upper body lands my shiny legs fly up in the air dramatically and seem to hang there in a big V shape before gravity takes over and they begin to fall toward mat. 40,000 people almost unison SPRING out of their seats and thrust their hands in the air in an emotional release YESSSSSSSS!!!!! Yt
BRANDI:
My tummy churns as I swing around violently on the ropes, but my boots smack into your face full force, flinging you backwards into the ring. I just about manage to control the swing, coming to rest on the ring apron and going down onto one knee as I hold the middle rope with both hands now, looking into the ring, mouth gaping, breathing hard, but grinning in triumph. The crowd have gone wild and their noisy support electrifies me.
You look down and out for the count. You don’t move, your eyes are closed. Oh my god, I can finish this! I can finish this right here! But I want to put on a show. I want to be a high flying super star, my hugely spectacular move going viral on the web. I get to my feet, turn out to the crowd whilst standing on the apron still and I work them. The same rhythmic clap as at the start, only louder now, more urgent and imploring, wanting me to produce the big match finisher they crave.
I stomp along the apron to the corner and clamber up the ropes to the top turnbuckle. I carefully get to my feet, to stand on the top, looking out t the screaming fans. Camera flashes are going off from everywhere, the TV coverage is alternating between close ups of you splayed out on your back in the ring and me precariously balancing on the top rope. I look over my shoulder at you, measuring the distance I need to fly. Then I steady myself, one, two and three! I launch myself off the top backwards with a loud clank of the top turnbuckle, going for all the glory now, risking it all with an ultra high risk moonsault !
ERICA:
I lie there taking a little ring nap, not sure which planet I’m on. My mind is in a fog but I am lucid enough to realize my whole body is burning with pain. Loud clapping and stomping and shouting rouse me slightly, my eyes fluttering and opening. Everything is blurry but I keep my head steady not giving away that fact I’m trying to figure out where the hell i am. Out of the corner of my eye I see the ref’s striped shirt. Glancing the other way I see a shadowy form near the ropes, starting to ascend. I sigh lightly. My brain clearing enough to realize if she had gone for the pin I would be the “former champion” by now. But she’s climbing. I suck in deep gulps of air trying to help recover. Bending my leg nearest to you and putting my boot flat on the mat as my shiny knee sticks up. And then I wait....
The crowd noise tells me she’s close to the top...and then I turn my head just slightly and sneak a peek. There she is...rising high and tall in the bright lights. When the corner cables CREAK loudly I PUSH my planted foot hard into the mat for momentum and ROLL as hard and as fast as I can hoping my timing is good enough to get fully out of your landing zone before impact. Yt
BRANDI:
I leap off high, turning a graceful perfect backwards somersault over the ring, my black leather suit glistening under the bright ring lights, my dark hair flying up majestically. The move feels great. Possibly my best moonsault ever. And what a time to do it as I’m just about to take the world title! I’m looking forward to a nice soft landing on those big tits of yours. Hope you don’t have implants, bitch, because they are about to get burst if ya do! Ha ha!
I complete the three quarter somersault and I’m looking down at the mat as I drop like a stone. The mat? THE MAT
? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?!?
The perfectly pale blue mat comes up to meet me so quickly. I hit it hard, tits and belly taking the impact as I splash land with a loud THOOOOMMMM!
UUUNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!!!
I bounce. I actually bounce up like a tossed rag doll off the mat as a huge collective groan of disappointment goes up from the crowd who could see what was coming a split second before it happened. This is followed by a despondent silence, which seems to say, “We knew you were shit all along!” I roll over rapidly, clutching at myself with my arms, cradling my ruined tits and belly, my gold boots kicking out to try to express out some of the pain and bitter disappointment. I’ve blown it! Fuck! Fuck! I’ve blown the title! I’ve thrown it all away with my stupid show boating! I roll again in agony and then come to rest on my side, curling into a ball, drawing up by fishnet clad knees to me, my cheek resting on the cold smooth rubber mat. But the pain just keeps on coming.
“Oh my god!” I can’t stop myself from crying out. “OHMYYYGAWDD! I’m hurt! I’m fucking hurt!”
ERICA:
I hear a loud BAMMMM!!! and the ring shakes and continues to vibrate for what seems like an eternity. I also hear that sweet sound of excited fans deflating in an instant. I’m not in fine shape myself but I still manage a chuckle when I roll over to survey the damage. The carnage is obvious and i can’t suppress a wicked laugh. But I have business to tend to so can’t laugh long. I crawl over and grab your hip and shoulder and PULL toward me to roll you flat on your back and me to your right side. Where you were curled into a fetal position your legs are up as I roll you onto your back and that’s very considerate of you as it gives me something to hook my right arm around as I lay my chest across your belly and then ROLL upwards toward your head pulling your legs nice and high in the air. As the ref drops to the mat above your head for a shoulder check it’s not hard for me reach my right hand down subtly to grab the thong gusset of your suit and give it a nice TUG for some extra leverage to help keep your legs and ass up in the air. The fans sit and watch in shock as the ref slaps the mat yelling ONE!!!! Yt
BRANDI:
“Oh god noooo!” I moan in dread as you hungrily pounce on me as I lie the mat in distress. You swarm all over me now. I knew you would, rolling me over gleefully onto my back. I grunt, taking your weight as you lie on my leather clad belly. You hook my legs high into the air and lounge back on me, your weight shifting to my chest crushing my tits into my rib cage, your tinted sweaty hair trailing down in my face.
“Oh god, you fucking bitch!” I groan as I feel your hand grab the thong of my suit. You show no regard for my modesty as you show off my ass and crotch to everyone as you haul my fishnet clad ass high in the air. My legs stick up, gold boots in the air awkwardly. I feel sick, despondent and hurt. But I’m angry that you are still cheating your way to a win. A win that I presented to you on a a plate. If you’re gonna win this match and retain your belt, at least I want you to do it by your own actions and not mine.
TWO ! Shouts the ref as he slaps the mat for a second time.
With my last remains of strength I kick my legs as hard as I can and try to send my boots high into the air whilst at the same time bucking and twisting violently under you. My last shot at staying in this match.
BRANDI:
Several fans are yelling at the ref and pointing at my grip on your suit but the noise and confusion are too much and he can’t hear them. I’m already celebrating in my mind thinking about what I’m going to say backstage when one of the roving reporters sticks a microphone in front of my face “What the fuuu Aghh!” I’m taken totally by surprise when you kick out forcefully and I lose my grip on your legs and slide off your body. The fans were mostly stunned before but now you just reignited the flame as they erupt YESSSSS! I get to my feet yelling at the ref as I clap my hands three time: “You idiot that was 3!!!” But he holds up two fingers in front of my face then to the crowd and they surge again with another roar of approval which soon morphs into chanting BRAN-DI! as they clap and stomp in unison. I sneer at them “Shut UP!” But they just chant louder so I shake my fist at them and stalk over to you....
I’m extremely frustrated that you keep going right to the edge of defeat only to claw your way back into the match. And I’m not a patient person. I grab your sweaty hair and twist my fingers into it cruelly and start pulling you up roughly by the roots “Stupid cxnt you don’t know when to stay down! You want some more?! Huh?! Bitch!” Yt
BRANDI:
Uuhhhhhh! I grunt loudly as I manage to fling you off me. You’re frantic that you didn’t get the pin. The ref holds up two fingers apprehensively. He knows he is taking his life into his hands not granting you the pin but I’m grateful he did.
Still I don’t have a lot left as you pull me up by my hair and ask me if I “Want some more?” ‘More’ firstly equates to ‘more’ roots unzipping. It may have to have my hair especially cut after this match. I look at you with glazed eyes. I’m exhausted and I’ve taken too much during this match already. The crowd are chanting my name, willing me to find something from somewhere to go on the offensive once more. But I have nothing left. The kick out was my last ounce of energy. I stand there in my ripped fishnets and wrecked leather suit, my thong screwed up and lost between my butt cheeks......I’m yours for the taking.
ERICA:
I gaze into your eyes as I pull you up and see that familiar vacant beaten expression on the faces of so many of my victims. I giggle “That’s what i thought you’re done hehe!” With you on your feet I stuff your head against my pubic bone keeping you bent forward. Then I lean over your back, snaking my left arm to scoop and hook your right arm; then using my other arm to hook your left arm clenching your elbows inward behind your back so your hands stick out to each side and can’t be used to break your fall. Oh and there’s going to be a fall.
Some fans still think there’s hope as they shout encouragement COME ON BRANDI! But I laugh at them as I lock your arms. “She’s going DOWN you fools mwahaha!” I cackle then giggle to you “Pucker up, cxnt!” Then I jump and kick my feet out front legs spread in a wide V as I drop back and down to the mat in a sitting position trying to smash your face into the mat between my legs in my famous Canvas Kiss facebuster. Yt
BRANDI:
The crowd let out a collective gasp, a gasp of dread as you ram your dazed and weary opponent’s head between your big hungry thighs.
“Ohggawwd!” I moan as I feel the smooth shiny nylon of your hose on my cheeks and the dampness of your crotch pressing on the back of my neck. My poor befuddled brain ponders if it is damp from the exertions of the match or cruel excitement as you set me up in your nasty finisher. And, of course, once again you have my ass nicely on show for the crowd and cameras, my ripped hose and wrecked suit a testimony to the mauling you have given me.
My eyes are directed downwards as I bend over and I look down along your sturdy legs clad in the shiny hose to the gleaming black boots planted firmly on the mat. Funny, I think to myself as you roughly hook each of my arms locking them up my sweat soaked back, that left boot really didn’t have anything in it. And I could have sworn......
FC: Yes, yessss, this is it now! The Canvas Kiss! CANVASSSSS KIIISSSSSS!
MC: Yes, that’s right folks. Erica is going for her patented finisher, The Canvas Kiss. Things sure ain’t looking good for Brandi right now.
FC: No they sure as hell ain’t. Smash her Erica. Smash her ugly Brit face right into the mat!
MC: er, come on now, Bonnie. I think you are meant to maintain at least a veneer of neutrality.
FC: Neutrality? Oh fuck that! C’MON ERICA! SMASH DAT BEEOOIITTCHHH!
I actually have to choke back a sob when you hiss “Pucker up cxnt!” Then you execute the move perfectly, but hey, you’ve had plenty of practice. My head is driven into the mat with your full day weight behind it, transferred by your damp crotch and I actually hear a little squelch from between your thighs before my lights go out. I lie there between your legs, on my front, face turned to one side, cheek resting on the mat an inch from your crotch. I’m motionless apart from my fluttering eyelids and some intermittent spasms from my legs as my brain sends out it’s confused signals. Even some of your haters in the crowd actually applaud the move. It is absolutely fucking devastating!
ERICA:
I sit there for a bit, laughing wickedly as I smile to the crowd and draw my thumb across my throat in a “throat slit” gesture “Haha she’s finished!” Finally I curl my hands under your arms and rotate my hips to my left to roll you over onto your back near center ring. I crawl over you, moving in from above your head, slinking on all fours until I’m over your upper body. And then I sit down, putting my ass on your tits with my shins covering your shoulders.
I reach down and scoop up your left leg and PULL it up toward me, far enough that your other leg rises up and I can curl my arm around it too. I hug your fishnet clad legs snugly against each of my tits as I sit back and LEAN back getting comfy...my hosed ass cheeks mushrooming up firmly under your chin and your legs hooked up high enough to raise your ass off the mat as I go for a reverse school girl double leg hook pin.
The ref wastes no time dropping to the mat to check your shoulders and slap the canvas shouting ONE!!! Yt
BRANDI:
I’m only half conscious as you flip me over onto my back even after you gloat in the moment of having me splayed out between your legs. It is as if I am in some kind of nightmare as you mount me, planting your big fat ass roughly on my chest to crush my tits into my rib cage. Your heavy leather boots harshly pin my biceps to the mat and you hoist my legs up into your chest, my gold boots hovering high in the air above me.
All I can do is stare at you big half covered in purple Lycra ass with tears in my eyes as you pin me. I don’t try to kick, out, I don’t even struggle, I just bleat weakly. Your finisher has totally wasted me.
TWOOOOOO!!!
I choke back a big sob as I realise my title challenge has ended in bitter failure.
THREEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
And now the tears really come. Great big coughing sobs of bitter humiliation and disappointment as you sit on me, totally totally dominant.
ERICA:
I savor the sensation, your warm fishnets hugged snugly against my boobs, my ass and sex resting comfortably on your chest as my hosed ass cheeks tickle your chin. You’re limp. And I know I’ve GOT you, you sorry little cxnt! This will teach you not to go all fucking Rey Misterio and kick the goddamn QUEEN in the face!
As I lean back and enjoy the view of your ass on display for the crowd I hear some fans still shouting COME ON BRANDI GET UP! I turn and look their way and pucker my purple painted lips to smack a playful kiss toward them and laugh as he ref continues his count and finally reaches....
THREEEEEE!!!! SHE’S OUT!!!!!!
The bell clangs vigorously DING DING DING DINGGGGG...as I release your legs but continue to sit on you as I thrust my hands in the air triumphantly “YESSSS!!!!” as a wave of tingling excitement courses thru my body.
Yt
BRANDI:
The frantic clanging of the Bell kinda brings me back to my senses a little. I’m feeling your weight now. It’s hard for me to breath. Not that you care as you maintain your reverse chest mount, your arms thrust into the air in triumph. The crowd are booing you loudly but you don’t care, because it doesn’t matter. You won. The title, the win bonus, the endorsements, everything. The match really was winner takes all.
It feels like the end of the world for me right now and I’m bawling like a little kid. You just keep my legs high in the air for a that bit longer, emphasising your control, before flinging them to the mat like yesterday’s trash. My boots bounce up a little then my legs settle, spread apart, my dishevelled suit leaving nothing to the imagination. I look up at the ref and sob “Get her off me. Oh god, get this nasty bitch off me!” As the crowd launch into another wave of howling derision for you......YT
ERICA:
I don’t get in any hurry to dismount you. This is my moment of glory. Plus I’m worn the hell out. This match has taken a toll on both of us even the glorious winner. The ref frowns at me “Come on, Erica she’s had enough!” I smile playfully then extend my hand toward him wiggling my fingers “Well? Aren’t you going to help the lady up? Hehe!”
And whether it’s due to gentlemanly reflex or just a desire to get me off you quickly he takes my hand and pulls to help me rise. As I stand up to your right I swing my left leg across you dramatically and hover at your side, smoothing my hair and adjusting my suit like I’m getting ready to have my picture taken. Soon the ref returns holding the belt. I put my right foot on your belly and press the ball of my foot into your flesh just enough to make it uncomfortable as I look down at you and smile as I hold my arms out to the side slightly while the ref hooks the belt around my waist and clasps it in back ...”Gorgeous isn’t it? Hehe...like I said, losers get to look but not touch...only the WINNER gets to wear it hahahaha!” I cackle wickedly as fans nearby boo and the camera zooms in a close shot of me getting my belt hooked around my waist again. Yt
BRANDI:
I can’t believe the stupid ref is allowing you to still stand over me. You adjust your suit and preen and pose as I’m sobbing my heart out! That way you know you are keeping me in camera shot and the wold can see how badly I am taking this defeat.
Then you plant my boot on my belly. The title belt I coveted so much being flaunted in front of me. The crowd hate you for doing this but they can’t stop watching you. They look on, hushed, with something oddly close to love for you.
I shake my head, sob a little more and slap weakly at your big black boot with my hand, hoping the use less ref will do something but he is more preoccupied with trying to fasten the fucking belt around your fat fucking waist!
Then I’m rolled unceremoniously with the toe of your boot to the apron. I shake my head at you, my eyes pleading....but you shove me off. I crash to arena floor and lie there in a humiliated heap and some fans rush to my assistance. YT
ERICA:
The fans say BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! as I keep holding the ref’s hand long after he wants me to, making him lead me to all four sides of the ring with my hand held high and my shiny belt hanging on my waist...as we come full circle and I see some fans trying to help you I wave my hand and laugh “That’s it you little people be dears and help take the trash out HAHAHA...MWHAHAHAHA!” The camera zooms in on me laughing hysterically at my own joke as I climb up to the middle ropes in the nearby corner and thrust my hands in the air triumphantly...
The commentators mutter platitudes about the British chick putting forth a valiant effort and maybe she will bounce back from this and maybe the promoters will appreciate how close she was to taking Erica’s title and will let her earn a rematch...
But for now that’s all for tonight folks hope you enjoyed the show tune in next time....as the camera zooms in for a closeup of my face as I perch in the corner celebrating then fades to black.
