Trish warmed up for her match with some stretching and yoga. She positioned herself in downward dog, her toned ass pointing heavenward, then stepped forward into warrior pose, raising her arms up above heard.
She had allowed a small camera crew into the changing area to get some footage for the television broadcast. The cameraman zoomed in, surveying her toned, athletic body from head to toe. Her skintight black yoga pants hugged her muscular thighs and firm, round butt cheeks. A clingy white tank top offered a hint of her taut belly and showcased her ample cleavage. The thin fabric revealed the outline of her soft nipples from underneath.
Finally, the camera came to rest on her angelic face. She smiled, allowing the lens to drink in her breathtaking beauty. Her long blonde hair fell seductively across her shoulders. She was stunning.
On the surface, she looked ready, confident.
Underneath, she was a nervous wreck. She had been feuding with Victoria for several weeks, and the two were finally going to meet tonight in a no holds barred street fight, with Trish’s championship on the line. She looked over at the belt resting on a nearby bench and wondered if tonight was the last night she would call herself a champion.
She had known Victoria from several years before during their time as fitness models. Their interactions had been limited, so it surprised Trish to learn that Victoria harbored a fierce grudge against her. Since coming to the WWE, Victoria had staged several sneak attacks against Trish, repeatedly catching her off guard. This past week on Raw, Victoria had ambushed Trish, injuring her and planting seeds of doubt within the heart and psyche of the woman’s champion.
Trish had never faced an opponent like Victoria. She was vicious and cunning, athletic and powerful. Up until now, Trish had been the face of the woman’s division. But recently, she had wondered if perhaps her time as the preeminent female athlete in the WWE was coming to its end.
One way or another, she would find out tonight.
“All right, guys,” Trish said to the camera crew. “I need to get dressed for my match.”
She stepped off of her yoga mat and padded over to her locker on bare feet.
“Good luck tonight, Trish,” said the director. “We’re rooting for you.”
“Thanks, guys,” replied Trish. “I’m going to need all the luck I can--”
Before she could finish her sentence, Victoria appeared from out of nowhere, charging at Trish from behind and ramming her head first into the steel locker doors. Trish let out a startled cry as her forehead connected with a concussive CRACK. She felt sharp, blinding pain as she fell to the floor, dazed and disoriented.
Trish didn’t have time to process what was happening as Victoria was upon her, stomping on her torso with heavy black combat boots. Trish tried to cover up her thick, alluring body but was helpless against Victoria’s brutal assault.
Victoria reached down and grabbed a fistful of Trish’s blonde locks, dragging the diva back to her feet. She cupped Trish’s chin with her hand and pulled her face in close. Trish’s eyes rolled in their sockets. As they began to focus, she got her first good look at Victoria.
She was garbed in black from head to toe; sleek leather pants and a matching black top. She had the presence of a Valkyrie warrior. In contrast to Trish, she looked ready for war.
Victoria seethed, “I told you I would make you pay for what you did, Trish!”
She positioned Trish’s head in the doorway of the locker, then slammed the door repeatedly into Trish’s skull. The sickening sound of metal against bone and flesh echoed throughout the changing area. Trish screamed, her beautiful face contorted in an expression of anguish and fright.
Trish fell back to the ground, cradling her head. Victoria took advantage of her wounded opponent by grabbing the waistline of Trish’s black yoga pants and yanking them down, revealing a lacy white thong underneath.
“No!” cried Trish. “What are you--”
Trish tried to stop her from stripping her pants off but Victoria already had the garment halfway down the diva’s thick thighs. She continued pulling until the pants slid past Trish’s calves and ankles, and finally tore them off completely. Trish let out a squeal of embarrassment.
Victoria was hellbent on not only winning the championship, but humiliating Trish as much as humanly possible.
The camera crew continued filming the whole time. They zoomed in on Trish as she scrambled unsuccessfully to cover her exposed lower body with her hands.
Victoria, meanwhile, snatched Trish’s signature black jacket from a wall-mounted coat rack.
Trish rolled over onto her side, trying to get up.
Victoria bent over Trish’s body and wrapped the jacket around her neck. She pressed her knee into Trish’s spine and pulled up for leverage, choking her helpless opponent. Trish’s face turned a plum color and her eyes bulged. Her mouth opened wide, gasping for air. Her arms flailed uselessly. She thought she might pass out.
Finally, Victoria released the jacket and flung it aside. Trish coughed and gasped, struggling to catch her breath as oxygen flooded her lungs.
Amidst all the confusion and chaos, referee Charles Robinson arrived in the locker room. Trish assumed that he was there to restore order and separate the two women.
Suddenly, Victoria threw herself on Trish and went for a cover, hooking her leg. Robinson counted, “ONE! TWO!”
Instinctively, Trish kicked out.
“What the hell is happening?” she wondered. Had the match started?
Trish was used to having the deck stacked against her by the powers that be, but this was a new low. Allowing Victoria to sneak attack her before Trish had even changed into her ring gear was truly despicable.
Trish felt Victoria’s rough hands around her neck as the larger woman pulled her up to her feet. Trish stumbled about on wobbly legs. Her head was still ringing from being slammed into the metal locker doors.
She felt her scantily clad body dragged over to her makeup table and vanity mirror on the other side of the room. Victoria grabbed Trish’s mouth and shoved her face in front of the mirror.
“Look at yourself!” Victoria barked. “You’re pathetic!”
She snatched a tube of red lipstick from off of the table.
“Here,” she said. “Let me help you with your makeup.”
Trish moaned wearily. She had been knocked senseless from the initial assault. She felt something pressing against her forehead. Her eyes refocused, just in time to see her reflection.
Victoria had written the word ‘WHORE’ across Trish’s forehead. Victoria laughed sadistically.
Trish suddenly came to her senses. Enraged, she knocked the tube of lipstick from Victoria’s hand.
“You bitch!” Trish shrieked.
She grabbed Victoria’s hair and the two women tussled. Victoria was caught off guard. She thought that by getting the advantage on Trish early on that it would be an easy victory. She hadn’t expected the blonde to put up this much of a fight.
They exchanged strikes, brawling throughout the changing area, their skirmish spilling over into the adjacent bathroom.
Trish landed several fists, and for a moment, was in control. But Victoria landed a boot in Trish’s midsection and regained her dominance. She grabbed the back of Trish’s neck and viciously drove her headfirst into a metal paper towel dispenser that was hanging on the wall. Trish’s forehead bounced off of it with a loud THWACK!
Dazed, Trish stumbled and fell to the hard concrete floor. She cradled her aching head, writhing in pain. Victoria went for another pin. The referee, who had followed the action into the bathroom, slid into position and counted, “ONE! TWO!”
Again, Trish kicked out at two and a half. She had lost her momentary advantage.
Frustrated, Victoria stood up and grabbed Trish’s leg, then dragged her across the dirty bathroom floor. Trish’s exposed flesh scraped against the uneven tiles as her curvaceous body was pulled into the adjoining open shower area.
Trish was exhausted. Everything hurt. The match, if you could call it that, had only started a few moments ago and already she felt as though she had been through hell.
Victoria let go of Trish’s leg, then went over to a nearby shelf and grabbed a container of body wash.
Trish lay on the ground, still stunned, wearing only in her delicate white thong and tank top. She grabbed onto the center shower column and tried to pull herself up.
Before she could get to her feet, Victoria squirted the bottle of soap directly into Trish’s face. The body wash burned and stung her eyes, blinding her. Trish howled in agony. She tried to wipe the liquid out with her fingers, but that seemed to only make it worse.
“Aww, poor Trish,” taunted Victoria. “Does that hurt? Here, let me help wash it out.”
Victoria reached over to the shower column and turned on the faucet.
Freezing cold water came blasting out of the shower head and onto Trish’s half naked body, soaking her. Trish let out a startled shriek and tried to scurry away, but Victoria pressed her boot onto her chest, pinning her down to the floor. Trish’s arms and legs thrashed about uselessly. She was trapped. All she could do was lay there helplessly under the frigid water as it rained down upon her. The thin fabric of her tank top became transparent, revealing the outline of her magnificent tits.
Victoria turned the water off, leaving Trish on the floor, cold and wet, still blinded from the soap.
But still Victoria was not finished.
She reached down and took hold of Trish’s wet tank top and in one swift motion, tore the sopping wet fabric off of the diva’s body, exposing the champion’s succulent tits.
Trish let out a shrill scream and attempted to cover her bare chest with her arms. Never in her life had she been so humiliated. In that moment, she felt so weak and impotent. She wanted to cry.
The cameras continued recording everything. They homed in on Trish’s vulnerable body, capturing all of her shame and embarrassment.
Victoria reached down and grabbed a fistful of Trish’s wet hair, pulling her back to her feet. Trish, now wearing only her lacy white thong, floundered on her feet. Victoria grabbed her neck and throttled the angelic diva. Trish’s tits jiggled and shook as her almost naked body was manhandled by her savage opponent, tossed around like a broken marionette.
Victoria spun Trish about, using her momentum to send her reeling out into the hallway. The dazed champion collided with a nearby table, sending its contents flying to the floor.
Several wrestlers and crew members were gathered around, watching as the action spilled out for all to see.
Trish, still blinded by the soap in her eyes, couldn’t make out who was there, but she could hear their taunts and jeers.
“Looking good, Trish!” she heard someone say, followed by a chorus of laughter.
She struggled to orient herself but her eyes burned and her vision was blurry. She was totally defenseless and incapable of putting up a fight.
Victoria marched over to a catering rack and pulled out a metal baking sheet.
Trish’s vision began to clear. She steadied herself, using the table for balance. Her eyes still stung, but she could discern nearby objects and shapes. She looked up just in time to see--
Victoria, holding the baking sheet above her head, as she SLAMMED it down onto the top of Trish’s head. The metal object connected with a nauseating CRACK!
Trish fell backwards into the table, then slid down awkwardly onto the cold concrete floor, her arms and legs spread out in various directions.
The blow had nearly knocked Trish unconscious. She hovered on the border of oblivion. Somehow she remained awake.
Victoria looked at the baking sheet, admiring her handiwork. A large dent had appeared in the shape of Trish’s skull. She tossed the metal tray aside, then threw her body onto Trish, hooking her leg for the pin.
The referee slid into position and counted, “ONE! TWO!”
Trish just barely managed to roll her shoulder off of the floor before the three count. She was running on pure instinct, but for now, it was enough to keep her in the fight.
Victoria let out an irritated scream of frustration. “What is it going to take to put this bitch away?” she wondered. Trish was proving to be far more resilient than she anticipated.
Out of pure spite, Victoria reached down and grabbed a hold of Trish’s exposed nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and began pinching and twisting the delicate pink flesh. Trish let out a bloodcurdling scream. Victoria’s cruelty knew no bounds. The louder Trish screamed, the harder Victoria wrung the soft tissue between her fingers.
Finally, Victoria released her pincer-like grip. Trish whimpered pitifully, rubbing her aching tits with her hands, desperately trying to massage the pain away.
Annoyed, Victoria stormed over to two metal garbage cans. She removed the lids from each. Trish, knocked senseless, was trying to lift herself into a sitting position. As strong as she had proven herself to be, she was finding it more and more difficult to find the strength to not give up.
Victoria stalked over to her opponent’s stricken body holding the two trash can lids like some demented cymbal player in the world’s most deranged marching band. She knelt down over Trish’s abused body and CLANGED the two lids together around Trish’s ears.
Trish screamed again and collapsed back down to the ground. She wrapped her arms around her pounding head, writhing on the ground in agony. The sensation was like a large church bell clanging in her brain.
Victoria flung the lids aside. She grabbed hold of one of the garbage cans and lifted it up, turned it upside down, and dumped the contents down onto Trish’s prone figure. Half-eaten food and filthy debris fell onto Trish’s wet, almost naked body. The stench was enough to make one sick. Victoria dropped the emptied metal canister onto the floor.
Trish struggled to fight back tears. From the opening moments of the match, she had been dominated and brutalized, stripped of her clothing and tortured. Now she lay there, wearing only a skimpy thong, cold and wet, covered in foul-smelling garbage.
She rolled over onto her side and labored to get up. Every inch of her body hurt. It took all of her energy just to get to her hands and knees.
She looked up and saw Victoria as she grabbed the second trash can. The vicious vixen lifted the receptacle and prepared to dump its contents onto Trish.
Feeling a surge of adrenaline, Trish lifted herself to her feet. As Victoria raised the trash can over her head, Trish saw an opening. She reared back and kicked Victoria’s exposed abdomen. Trish’s bare foot found its target and Victoria doubled over in pain. She dropped the garbage can to the floor and clutched her stomach.
Finally, Trish had an opportunity. She grabbed Victoria’s hair with her left hand and delivered a series of rights.
Victoria staggered backward, confounded by the blonde diva’s unexpected toughness. Victoria had become too overconfident, and now her hubris threatened to be her downfall. She threw her hands up, covering her face and blocking several of Trish’s fists.
Victoria was reeling. She tried to shake the cobwebs from her head. Her confidence waned. She needed a moment to regroup.
Trish knew she had to capitalize on her opening. Desperate, she spun around and delivered a perfectly placed chick kick to Victoria’s chin, knocking her opponent to the ground.
Had Trish been wearing her wrestling boots, it would have surely been a knockout blow. Still, the kick had done its job. Trish had the chance to pin Victoria and put an end to the match.
She dove onto Victoria’s stunned body and hooked her left leg.
The referee slid into position and counted. “ONE! TWO!”
The ref’s hand was mere inches away from counting to three. But at the last possible second, Victoria kicked out.
“No!” Trish cried out in frustration. She felt her momentum slipping away. She had come so close.
Trish climbed back to her feet. She couldn’t give up. Not now, not when the finish line was within reach.
Trish surveyed her surroundings. She spotted a heavy duty storage case nearby. She hobbled over, leaning on it for support. She hoisted her aching body up on top of the case. Careful not to lose her balance, she stood up on its surface.
Victoria, steel reeling from the devastating kick, rose to her feet.
Trish waited for her moment, allowing Victoria to get into position. She would have to time this perfectly.
As Victoria turned around, Trish launched her almost naked body into the air, spreading her arms and legs out in a flying cross body position.
If she had been in a match with any ordinary opponent, the momentum of Trish’s body would have sent her body crashing to the floor.
But Victoria was no ordinary opponent.
The vicious vixen used her brute strength to catch Trish’s body in mid-air.
Trish couldn’t believe what was happening. She shook her head, a panicked expression washed over her face.
Victoria cradled Trish’s sultry body in her arms, one arm gripping the diva’s crotch, the other wrapped around her shoulder. Trish felt Victoria’s bony fingers slide up in between her toned butt cheeks.
“No!” she begged. “Please! Put me--”
Before she could finish her plea, Victoria delivered a savage backbreaker, slamming Trish’s spine across her knee.
Trish emitted a prolonged, tortured scream. It felt as if her body had broken in two. Pain exploded up and down her limbs and spine.
She lay there, her body arched precariously over Victoria’s thigh, her arms and legs dangling helplessly, her belly and chest completely exposed.
Victoria, once again in control, lifted her hands over her head in an axe-handle formation and slammed them down onto Trish’s toned stomach. Trish howled in agony. Her voluptuous tits jiggled and convulsed as Victoria reigned blow after blow down upon her tormented body.
Finally, Victoria dumped Trish’s body onto the floor. Trish curled up into a fetal position, hugging her punished midsection.
Victoria towered over her fallen rival. She bent down and wrapped her fingers around Trish’s throat, then dragged the drained diva up until Trish was on her knees.
“I’m not finished with you yet, bimbo!”
“No,” begged Trish. “No more. I can’t take it...”
Victoria gripped Trish’s hair and positioned her head in between her muscular thighs, squeezing her head like a vice.
“Time for a powerbomb, bitch.”
Trish couldn’t escape. She was locked in place, her head in between Victoria’s legs, her ass protruding outward.
Victoria wrapped her arms around Trish’s torso and using her incredible strength, lifted the blonde champion up and over her head. Trish, high in the air, eyes wide, her beautiful face stricken with terror.
There was nowhere to go but down.
Trish’s thick body CRASHED through the surface of a nearby table, splitting it in half, before landing hard on the unforgiving floor.
She lay there on her back, wearing only her panties, surrounded by the splintered remnants of the table. She was motionless, her arms and legs splayed in all directions. She looked like she had been in a car wreck. She showed no signs of life, save for the gentle rise and fall of her exposed chest.
Victoria looked down upon the carnage in front of her. She could have ended the match right there. In that moment, however, she decided that she was not finished. She didn’t just want the victory, or the championship belt. She wanted there to be no doubt as to who was the dominant woman.
She lifted Trish’s legs and pulled her away from the wreckage.
Trish stirred slightly and let out a soft, pathetic moan.
“You still with us, Trish?” taunted Victoria. “It’s time to end this.”
Victoria rolled Trish onto her stomach. She stood at her opponent’s feet, then arched her body backward in a bridging position, wrapped her arms around Trish’s neck, then pulled upward, locking in an excruciating submission chokehold.
Trish let out an agonized scream. Her back and neck contorted backwards in an unnatural shape. Bodies were not meant to bend like this. She had never felt suffering like what she was experiencing at this moment.
The camera zoomed in on her ravaged body. Her tits exposed, her face stricken with torment and pain.
Over her distressed cries, she heard the referee asking her if she wanted to submit. She tapped immediately, signaling to him, and the world, that she was surrendering to her superior opponent.
The ref motioned to Victoria to relinquish the hold, but the spiteful woman still was not satisfied. She refused to release her grip, squeezing her arms even tighter around Trish’s neck. Trish continued tapping, her cries becoming more garbled and strained. Her throat hurt from all the screaming.
The ref pleaded with Victoria to let go. Finally, several officials came to his aid and forced her off of Trish. She finally released her grip.
Trish’s body flopped down face first to the floor. The match, along with her championship reign, had ended.
Victoria stood over her fallen prey in triumph. She looked down at the broken blonde with a sneer on her face.
And yet, still she was not finished.
Victoria bent over, placed her fingers around the waistband of Trish’s panties, and peeled the damp fabric downward. Trish, barely clinging to consciousness, felt the wet thong slide down from in between her butt cheeks, over her muscular thighs, past her calves, and over her feet.
Trish was now completely naked, face down, breathing heavy, covered in sweat.
Victoria slid the toe of her boot underneath Trish’s bare torso and rolled her onto her back. Trish lay there, tits pointing up to the ceiling, spread eagled, her arms and legs laid out in all directions like some dead starfish washed up on the shore.
The cameras surveyed her body, scrutinizing every inch of her flesh, finally zooming in on the small patch of carefully maintained pubic hair between her legs.
Victoria stood over Trish’s mangled body, triumphant and proud. She had proven that Trish was an unworthy champion. Her brief title reign had ended with her beautiful body trampled under her boot. Not only had Trish lost her title, not only had she lost her clothing, she had lost every last scrap of her dignity. Her body was broken, her spirit crushed. Her reputation in the WWE would never be the same.
Victoria held Trish’s wet panties above her head for all to see. She rolled them into a ball and leaned over Trish’s fallen body. With her free hand, she parted Trish’s pillowy lips and shoved the damp fabric into her open mouth.
The referee handed Victoria her newly won championship title. She laid the belt across her shoulder and placed her heavy boot on Trish’s exposed tits, then raised her fist in victory.
Finally, Victoria stalked off, leaving the referees and medical staff to attend to Trish’s conquered body.
