[gameking]

OOC: A long time ago, I posted a series of stories in the celeb fight section like this. It was old stories, I just changed the gender from male to female. I’ve posted these stories on another forum and been writing this series for a decade. I’ve came to disagree with certain measures the other forum has taken to deal with bots and other issues. So, I’m bringing the series here and will post older stories along with newer ones and all new material.


I could take one helluva good beating or at-least make it look like I was taking a beating.

That’s why I’m here. Got a call, got in the car and drove over. The money gets transferred anonymously and NDA’s are signed.

Staring across from the ridiculously beautiful and sultry Ana De Armas. The Cuban woman who made being dressed in run-of-the-mill nurse clothing as a possible turn-on for many men. With piercing green eyes with a brown center, Ana was the type of woman that could make men melt into a puddle of nothingness with a glance. Lord knows I came close when she emerged from her changing room. The look was simple yet incredibly arousing.



A look like this is rather simple, but I’m a simple guy. The vibe of this being a spontaneous event with this impossibly hot girl you landed a date with and just happens to have a wrestling fetish. The look harkened back to an old photo of hers. White tank top, pair of brown bikini bottoms with her nipples erect through the top. Yes, she had been naked countless times but that picture was burnt into my mind. If I were to ever fight her, that’s the look I wanted. Being put through the paces by a dominant female who didn’t bother to don an intimidating get-up. As the sultry Cuban engaged in pre-match stretching, the feeling of dread was beginning to wash over me.

Ladies and gentlemen, dying time is here.

We met at the center of the strewn about blankets that served as the ring. The call was so spontaneous that finding gym mats was out of the question and again it added to the vibe I talked about earlier. I tried to keep my composer as small talk dominated the room but those eyes were melting me on the inside. Perhaps that was her plan as she stayed locked on me while I tried to look anywhere else. The rules were simple, first one to successfully knock out their opponent wins. Usually, I go for more of first submission wins but my anxiety levels were off the charts.

She called for a lock-up in that sultry accent of hers that just melted me on the inside.

Both of our arms were fully extended on our shoulders in a lock-up. We began pushing back and forth for position and I was too damn distracted staring into her that I never saw it coming. Her left knee shot up into my stomach, taking me off the ground for a moment, landing right below the navel. The air in my body proceeded to hastily exit like passengers escaping a drowning ship. I could do nothing in response as the knee dug in, my insides screaming out in anguish. All I could was dry heave as the actress threw one more debilitating knee to the same area, a “GODDAMNIT” and my moans of pain filled the room. This one doubled me over, my hands clutching my inflamed abdomen. On the surface area, the pain was red hot, the feeling off a thousand little knives stabbing it. My insides however, it felt more like a thousand Jason Voorhees swinging a thousand machetes  on the inside.

Ana backed as I called her every dirty word in my inner monologue, holding my stomach.  Not only was the pain unreal yet I couldn’t comprehend the situation at hand. It’s like the blows had short criticized my body and brain, I didn’t expect this level of an attack right out of the gate. My game plan went from being amazing on paper to jack and shit and jack just left town. Ana came forward as I turned around staring a hole into her. Anger was flowing through my body as I lunged at her. The actress side stepped the desperate lunge, this time using my momentum to force me onto the floor. Face down  on the floor, Ana pinned me to the floor with her left foot and dropped all her body weight on the middle of my back. All 120 or so (Google’s guess) came crashing down as I yelled out in pain. She grabbed one arm, forcing it around my throat while keeping the grip. Panic set in as I tried to play keep away with the other but she caught it and wrapped it around.

They called it the Japanese Strangle Hold on some sites, but this was more of a Japanese Strangle Clutch. The Camel Clutch sucks enough, a Full Nelson Clutch should be outlawed in all fifty states but Japanese Strangle Clutch might possibly be a Geneva Convention violation. The triple threat of Armas pushing her weight down while violently pulling me backwards while choking the life out of me was enough to reconsider this gig. Oh and the same stomach that received two brutal and violent knees were being pushed into the unforgiving floor. The knees had me dry heaving and regretting eating a hot dog for lunch. This had my windpipe slowly being crushed as I desperately fought to escape. I tried to get my knees up but I couldn’t. Ana was beginning to pull me up higher and higher my back bending at angle that medical science never intended to be accomplished. Ana, either out of mercy and cruelty let go of the hold as I remained flat on my stomach. My upper body was writhing in pain, as the seductive actress took a seat in front of me, grabbing my hair and forcing it into a figure figure head scissors. If I had to pic a scissors to go out in, this was it. The visuals of a male being put to sleep and cameras filming as the loser is fast asleep between their opponents thighs. Ana didn’t seem hell bent on putting me out when she could’ve used her force and end this right here, the feeling that she was drawing this out began screaming in my head. Ana had some serious power as she choked away, my throat becoming hoarse from heaving. Ana even pulled down on her free foot to increase pressure, my vision becoming blurry. The blood supply being cut left my body feeling lifeless, almost like I was floating in water. I was close to going out when Ana suddenly let go. It wasn’t out of mercy as she grabbed my hair, holding me in place. I could see her knees rear backwards as she quickly moved them forward, both knees smacking into my ears. One blow had me so disoriented it wasn’t funny, the Cuban knew what she was doing. My ears were ringing like someone had just shot a gun right by me.

This time, I was dragged to a standing position.  The impact of the double knee made getting up seemingly impossible. I almost went down to one knee and I knew Armas was pleased. I looked more like a Mortal Kombat fighter about to be the victim of a fatality and that comparison feels right in those situation. The look on Ana’s face was of an opponent running through ways to finish this opponent. Finally she settled on the finishing moves of most males, the dreaded bearhug. Ana locked her hand in the middle of my back, arms wrapped and began squeezing. One hand her knuckles digging into the same area as she dropped her full weight on as I could do NOTHING. Not even that, but she had me off the ground as I futilely looked for an escape. There was no escape, she had made sure to trap my arms. If my hands were free, I’d fight fire with fire with stereo slaps to the eardrums kicking of my comeback but I was COOKED. I could do nothing but groan and glance at Ana, smiling and content with her destruction.

Finally, I passed out. The pressure on my rib cage from the move had restricted full breathing and with the oxygen supply to my brain being cut off, it was a matter of time. Ana gently dropped me to the floor, one sock on my face, the  cotton and polyester grinding  into my face. and a biceps pose later, The Hollywood Jobber was back in business. The match had been a quick one sided affair, destruction on a level that hadn’t been seen since a Midnight Express squash at Techwood Drive.

[gameking]

Back before I became a profession “video victim”, I used to be a professional wrestler. My run didn’t amount to anything much, I’m not the biggest guy (Five-foot-eight) and I got about 150 pounds on a good day.  A friend of mine needed a fill-in for a video and I took the gig. The pay was a lot more than what I was making taking flat back bumps and being dumped on my head every weekend. It just became a solid side gig on top of a decent paying real world job. I’m very non-threatening to the human eye and I think that benefits me the most. It also helps that I’m not in a constant battle with “personal demons” or chemically enhanced that could ruin this lucrative gig. How did  I got from professional wrestler to professional “video victim” to the Hollywood Jobber? I just rubbed the right people the right way and got this gig. I keep it becuase I’m a professional and don’t try to get funny with my these women. I try to win, I have won but I also know that the endgame is staring up a them having conquered me in combat.

A few weeks had passed since the De Amas Drubbing, one of the very few matches with no jobber offense. Usually those matches are reserved for matches with professional wrestlers. I get it. I’m not there to get some shine, I’m there to take a drubbing and hopefully when I see a spot on TV that happened to me, it’s their little tribute. Guess what this week’s match is?

A match with a professional wrestler.

Not just any wrestler, but Trish Goddamn Stratus. Canada’s finest export (Sorry Letterkenny, Maple Syrup, Bret Hart, John Candy or Rick Moranis), Gods gift to horny teenage (and adult) wrestling fans. The very name echoes photos upon photos of blonde hair, tanned skin, tight clothing accentuating big breasts and a bubble butt that had us in a hammerlock. Or a body slam if you’re an out of touch sports writer.

I am blessed.

Trish the Dish.

Trish is turning heel and needs a body to ping pong around the ring. I wondered why not ask one of the dozens of gymnasts turned wrestlers whose ACL’s are turning to dust in that performance center you got? Then I saw the big picture. Trish hasn’t worked as a heel since 2004/5 and when you’ve gone that long being the babyface (or blue eye) a three day jaunt to a performance center will accomplish nothing. You need to feel like a heel, you need to get in there with some ham and egger and just beat the tar out of them. Protect them, but make them feel like you would send them to god if this was a real fight.

Luckily, I’m getting paid a handsome amount for this. And getting some offense!

Usually in these affairs, I’d wear my basic gear, the Sleeperkid Special. T-shirt and gym shorts with wrestling boots so I don’t get MRSA from wrestling barefoot. It almost happened to a friend of mine, looking at you Double Trouble. This time, I really wanted to play the role of sad sapp preliminary boy on the verge of a royal shit kicking. So, I hit Highspots and bought generic flame and dragon pleather pants that went out of style in 2001, a rash guard and the saddest looking pair of elbow and knee pads imaginable. Trish wore rather basic black unitard that showed off the still killer body she possesses at forty-seven years of age. With boots of course, but it was all black to portray her as the villain. And she looks very good in black, just ask any former teenage wrestling fan in the 2000s.

(Remember folks, this is a work.)

The match began with no lockup attempt at all, just Trish gutting my stomach with a swift knee and a quick body slam that had me writhing on the mat. We had a “referee” but that “referee” is more ceremonial than useful. I tried to get up and even made to all fours before she backed up and launched a field goal kick into my ribs, I wrapped my hands around them out of muscle memory. Which of course left me vulnerable. Trish grabbed my legs, spread them wide and then teased dropping another kick into my stomach. My eyes pleaded with her and pleaded even more when she hovered her black boot over my crotch. She nodded no and I let out a painful sigh of relief. Then she cruelly dropped her knee full force on my crotch! I wore a cup but you know what? IT STILL HURTS. I could’ve coughed up a testicle, that’s how painful it was. Trish forced me up and brutally whipped me into one corner, the cheap buckling doing little to protect me as she stalked towards me. I could do nothing as she whipped me across the ring and I took the buckle full first to the chest, the old Bret Hart special. I heard about how those took years off his career and I could see why, my entire chest felt aflame. I hugged it as Trish came up to me, lifted my head and slammed it repeatedly into the top buckle, five times my head bounced off the padding. Trish maneuvered me to be facing her, as the ropes was the only thing holding me up.

Trish was cackling at the site of this pathetic jobber, methodically stomping a mud hole in my stomach. I’m pretty sure the “ref” was checking his phone and was only there to make sure I didn’t get handsy or go off the agreement. Which makes sense because most refs aren’t 6’6 and look like they juggle refrigerators and yell back at cops in their spare time. Trish then made this ordeal a little bit more worthwhile by sticking her legendary breasts in my face, trying to “smother” me out with them. Hey, I didn’t ask it but I’m not complaining or objecting. I think it was a thank you for letting me a human pinball for ten or so minutes.

I had the best/worst job!

Anywho, that put me of dream street as she boosted me to the top turnbuckle. What came next was me coming to and her legs around my head as she got with me that headscissor throw that made everybody think “Goddamn she’d be a perfect Sonya Blade”. To which I agree but still being thrown off the top rope and hitting the ring still resulted in a few swears being groggily thrown out. Trish placed one boot on my chest as the ref counted and she of course took her foot off at one. What came next was finish time as she hit with the greatest hits of her female rivals finish blows. First she got me in a front face lock, leaped and planted me head first with a Mickie-DT (Mickie James). My head bounced off the mat like a basketball, Trish did her best to protect me. Second was another gut shot and another instance of her driving me head first into the mat with a pedigree (Stephanie McMahon). The type you’d see in the Smackdown games when Trips would drive the opponent head first before anything else hit the mat. I’m an idiot, I insisted on it. At this point, I was “coherent”, well coherent enough but I was feeling it. Trish again drilled me in the stomach and lifted me for The Widows Peak (Victoria). Having been the victim of the hangman submission, it might be my least favorite. The feeling of helplessness being lifted off the floor and being forced to stare up and your back get bent and you slowly pass out if some right. Trish me up in the air for a few seconds before driving me knees first and my neck bent backwards and jammed into her shoulder. That blow almost pit me out legit, when done right it can really shock somebody’s system. I think Trish knew I was about done because the Twist of Fate (Lita) was just about the safest move I could take and she protected me. My body was still ablaze in agony as she called for the end and forced me up. Trish pushed me against the ropes and when I bounced back she landed the most devastating Chick Kick she could. I think Mickie’s sell will always be the best but mine was pretty damn good. I stumbled backwards, then down to one knee and finally the other one before falling over.

Trish placed a boot on my chest with a bicep pose as the ref counted a swift three but she demanded a ten count. Which of course this being a paid-off ref obliged her.

Well..jobbers gonna job.

[gameking]

In the aftermath of the Stratus match, I developed a nasty cold with a fever on top. I had to cancel a booking or two to just recuperate. I hated to do that because the money is phenomenal but working in this state would be disastrous. I would be about as useful as an air conditioner in Antarctica. After about two weeks, I was beginning to feel better and put word out that I was available for bookings. I was coming home from a quick jog and I was feeling alright, not great but it was the best I had felt in a long time.

What didn't feel great was the stiff knee to the stomach that I walked into when I opened my damn door. I went down to one knee, huffing and puffing at the sudden shock of having my stomach caved in by this mystery person.

I turned around to find Aubrey Plaza standing over me with a smiled that could only mean disaster. She was wearing a black turtleneck leotard and fishnet stockings, the same attire from that sultry dance on the show Legion. She’s that weird mix of funny, quirky, sexy and with a tinge of weirdness that drives a person like me nuts. Like she might be down for that weird stuff and said weird stuff might be trying to cave my stomach in with her knee. I had arranged a match but had canceled twice because of my illness and I guess this was her way to taking the initiative. Staring up at her piercing brown eyes, I knew O was in for some weird shit

Where was I again?

Oh yeah, the knee to the stomach and the bra that was being placed over my throat. First, the bra was lace and that isn't the softest fabric and it felt like it hadn't been washed. Second, the pain in my stomach had subsided and I was gasping for air as Plaza used the bra as a modified garrote. As I wheezed and felt ready to pass out, Plaza suddenly let go and delivered a stiff kick to the back, sending me tumbling to the floor. I tried to crawl on instinct to the couch but Plaza ran and jumped right onto my back, sending me to the floor and elicited groans from me. Plaza sat on my back shushing me as she wrapped her hands around my chin and pulled me upwards in a vile camel clutch. I had been in this hold many times but Plaza was fighting dirty and placed her fingers in my mouth, fish hooking me. The pain was nauseating and it was even worse when she placed three fingers in my mouth and let go of my chin. I finally murmured an I submit and Plaza let go as she slinked off me, dragging her stocking across my face. Plaza obviously liked doing it, so she did it again and even dragged her shin across my face. I got up on one knee before Plaza grabbed my foot and pulling me back to the floor, straddling me. Plaza began to grind her fist between my shoulder blades, a move that didn't inflict that match pain but was enough to show that she was playing with me. She tried to grab my wrists but I refused and was met with a stiff rabbit punch that had me seeing double at this point. Plaza was free to grab my wrists my right with her left and my right with her left, putting me in a bad position. Plaza began to pull with sadistic glee as I began to scream my submission but Plaza was ignoring my submission. I started to think that she was going to do this until my shoulder blades popped out but she let go, giving me temporary relief. Plaza was simply playing with me as she grabbed my arms and jerked me forward in a vicious surfboard that had me screaming my submission in seconds. Plaza bent down and whispered...

"I'm going to f***ing break you," Plaza cooed into my ear.

Plaza forcibly took my shirt off, leaving me exposed to the world as she quickly rolled onto ass with myself in tow. I surely thought this was would lead to a scissor hold but I was wrong. It was leading to something much much worse. Plaza mockingly slapped my inner thighs before grabbing one of my ankles with a free hand, slowly raising it. The pain is something I've never felt as I felt my leg being stretched beyond its breaking point. Of course, Plaza did it with my other leg, slowly raising it to up the drama of the moment. I had one free hand as she tried to split me in half like the Thanksgiving wishbone before I screamed my submission.

"Louder," Plaza screamed.

I screamed loud enough but Plaza began to lay down, leaving my legs at its ultimate breaking point as she placed one of her legs over mine, leaving her to slap my inner thigh repeatedly and grind her knuckles into said spot. Plaza finally lets go for a moment but I knew what the f*** was coming next. Plaza went back to the seated position and put me on the wishbone once again, this time using my legs for a modified full nelson. I refused to scream but Plaza took that as a challenge to up the pain, my legs felt useless at this point and maybe this was her strategy. It would be perfect, I would be unable to defend myself against any attacks and would be on the floor mostly.

That thought horrified me.

Plaza rolled me over and grabbed ahold of my legs and locked in a figure-four leg lock, albeit without the flare of Flair. My left leg was being hyperextended as Plaza slowly pushed herself off the floor repeatedly to up the pain. The human knee and ankle should not be bent in such a way as I feared my meniscus would tear off the bone. I desperately tried to roll over Plaza had me dead to rights, pushing herself off the floor and biting her lower lip. I swatted at her and that just made her increase the pressure as I finally laid down, tears rolling down my eyes from the pain. I had given up hope and that's when Plaza let go of the hold and backed off. I tried to crawl towards the couch out of instinct and nearly got there but Plaza dragged me away at the last moment. I've never true desperation until this point, it became fight or die but my body had chosen to die. Plaza had me in the middle of the room and sat at my ankles and planted her feet in my face, smothering me. I could barely breathe as her stocking covered soles muddled my breath, but Plaza wasn't happy that I didn't fade into darkness with this move. Plaza took her feet off my face and straddled me once more and locked me in the Iron Claw of all moves. That doesn't hurt, right? Fuck yeah, it hurts. Plaza placed her right hand in the right spot, on the sides, above my eye sockets and began to squeeze hard. She increased the pain by pushing down with her other hand as I found myself passing out. Visualize an orange being slowly squeezed in a vice clamp until it explodes. That is how the iron claw feels when it's applied properly. I found myself fading in and out in this hold and Plaza finally let go and began to grind on my useless body. Don't get me wrong, it was incredibly hot and Aubrey is a very beautiful woman but I was out of it at this point. Even thrusting her crotch into mine in a show of dominance, turning me around and doing an unspeakable act. Plaza began aggressively dry humping my body and the feeling was incredible. I moaned as she thrusted her body into mine, Plaza letting my cries of pleasure fill the room. She even licked my ear a few times. I couldn't do much to resist but I felt a bulge growing in my pants and Plaza took notice as she did the unthinkable. I was rolled back over, my body feeling real warm on the inside. First, my shorts went off and were sent flying across the room.

She stuck her hand down my pants.

At first, she brought me out of her slumber with a brutal squeeze of my scrotum, squeezing until I howled in pain. Content, she wrapped one hand around my fully erect penis and began to move up and down. At first, it was sensual as she slowly rubbed the shaft up and down. I was stifling moans of pleasure, refusing to give the satisfaction. I could do nothing but just murmur my distaste and protest what she was doing but that caused her to roughly jerk it around, like she was trying to rip it off. I could feel myself climaxing when Plaza pinched the tip, denying the satisfaction, digging her nails in. I cried out in pain at her predicament, just wanting this to be over. She had thoroughly dominated my body  physically, mentally and sexually. Plaza relented and smiled as I came. I could see a wet spot on my boxers, I was I was ashamed as Plaza took her out and delivered one last insult. A cum soaked punch to the jaw put me out of the fight. Plaza had rubbed l cum on the cheek to add salt to the wounds. I wasn’t knocked but at this point, I knew better to try anything.  I just laid there, wallowing in my own pity and looked above at her. Plaza eventually moved her foot and told me to turn my head, placing her foot on the same cheek, digging her foot and the cum in. I didn’t say anything as she took her foot off and used my stomach to wipe it off her foot.

[gameking]

Oil wrestling is seen as a form of legitimate competition in Turkey and a tournament takes place in Edirne. Said tournament has been going on since 1346 and no, that isn't a typo. In America, oil wrestling is treated as more of a fetish so I'm not surprised that I'm competing in an oil wrestling match. Instead of olive oil, it's copious amounts of baby oil and it's not taking place on the grass but a rather large inflatable pool. Also, I'm not facing some burly dude who could toss me around with ease but I'm facing Aubrey Plaza. Yes, the same Aubrey Plaza that beat me, humiliated me and then knocked me out with a fist full of my own sperm. Why do I want a rematch after that match? Well, I didn't know if I wanted to fight anymore after what happened on that fateful day. In fact, I felt like a shell of my former shelf trying to get through every day. I sure as hell didn't give Plaza my consent to jack me off but it took a lot of courage to fight once more. I felt ready though as I stared down at the pool that was filled with a considerable amount of oil and then at Plaza who dousing herself with oil. She was wearing a flowered bikini combo and her body language oozed confidence but had she fallen into my trap? Actually, I don't know why or which one of us had picked an oil wrestling match but here we are. I was topless and wearing a pair of briefs, not my favorite style of men's wear but I'll survive as we stepped into the pool. We both wore looks of fierce determination as silence filled the room, not much trash talk on either side.

I didn't want to talk, all I wanted to do was fight.

It was already difficult to move around so I tried to take baby steps towards Plaza, but she made the first mistake. Plaza tried to throw a kick and I caught it right away and she had that "oh f***" look on her face as she lost her footing and slipped to the floor. I followed her down to the floor but found it to be difficult to get a grip around her waist as she rolled onto her stomach. I managed to snag a full nelson couldn't put much pressure on the hold since the oil was already playing a big factor as I could barely lock my fingers. Plaza slipped out again and tried to get back up using the pool for assistance and I saw that as my opening. I crawled towards her look an over-aggressive toddler and snagged a choke or at least tried to but Plaza slipped out. I could hear a faint sneer coming from Plaza as she turned her body and I found my opening, body locking her. She tried to get up to one knee but slipped and I used our momentum to take her to the ground. I tried to apply a grapevine but couldn't get it all the way and settled for a modified version. I locked my ankles around the back of her knees as Plaza struggled to move. I rested my head on her toned torso as she snagged her hand underneath. I tried to turn my head, preventing Plaza from rubbing oil in my eyes, nose and mouth.

Plaza noticed and aggressively attacked with the oil slicked hand, forcing me to release my pseudo grapevine. I went to a mounted position and tried an armlock but couldn't pin her arms down. She was still trying to swat at her oil infused hands so I did the smart thing and grabbed a hold of one. I began to turn her wrist in an unpleasant direction as she kicked the floor and stared daggers at me. I was having fun for the first time in years but didn't notice she'd other hand coming right across my eyes. The oil seeped into my eyes immediately and while it didn't blind me, it did cause quite a bit of irritation. Like an idiot, I got off Plaza to try and get the oil out. Plaza rose and snagged me in a standing one legged scissors. I tried to slip out of it as Plaza used one hand to stabilize herself against the pool and the other one to push her Achilles tendon into my throat. The pain was mild but it didn't help that baby oil was also making its way down my gullet and I worried about choking on it. I went to grab her ankle but I pivoted at the last second and grabbed her hand and pulled. Plaza maintained her balance but she had the hold locked in and was ratcheting the pressure on my throat. I managed the slip my head out (Thank lord I rubbed my neck with oil) and tripped Plaza. As she fell to the floor, I slammed my fist into her pelvis, eliciting anguished cries from Plaza, her face turning red and heaving.

I felt no sympathy for Plaza as I went to work, snagging a headscissor on her and squeezing. My leg power isn't much but we were both on our sides and I grabbed copious amounts of her hair. I could keep a grip on her hair in case she slipped out which she did. I know, it's a leg business when it comes to my line of work. I still had a hold of her hair and not afraid to catfight so I lit her up with a brutal slap that sent her reeling. Plaza was holding her jaw as she crawled away to the edge of the pool. I got to my feet and walked over but Plaza crawled away and once my back was to her.....LOW BLOW! I hit the floor right away as Plaza jumped on top of me and choked as I tried to break free of her grip. I finally decided to fight fire with baby oil fire and grabbed a handful of oil and smeared it into her eyes and mouth. It freed her hands from around my throat and went a different route and grabbed ahold of her bikini bottoms and pulled upwards. Never throught I’d use a wedgie but today has been a unique day. I could hear Plaza howl and dropped a few obscenities as I turned her bottoms into a g-string. Plaza got off me and while she adjusted herself, I jumped on her and forced Plaza onto her stomach and went for a camel clutch and failed. I couldn’t trap the arms or gain some footing so I settled for a rather crude version. It couldn’t pull back as far but Plaza was still in pain but I could feel her gnawing on my fingers like a rat. Finally she got her teeth on a chunk of palm and bit down hard. I screamed and she rolled onto her back and drove a series of punches into my kidneys. I fought by slugging her toned stomach but Plaza won out by smothering my nose and mouth with oil. The eye irritation was playing a serious factor and mixed the prospect of urinating blood, I had to get up. Plaza responded with a swift and brutal stomp aimed at the bottom of my ribs. Lawrence had made mince meat of them in a few encounters and they never healed up. Plaza drove one more knee into the ribs, taking a lot of me as Plaza undid her bikini top. She tried to wrap it around my throat but a battle ensued as I got to my knees. Plaza still tried to choke me but I managed to flip her over, our hands still battling for the top.

In all this, I just realized that she was naked but I was focused on redemption not her perky and beautiful breasts.

We were both on ours struggling over a piece of clothing as we both had the same idea. Drove your opponent to the floor and let your fantasies run wild, Choking? Bondage perhaps? I made a mistake a tried to rise up to one knee but I slipped and Plaza won. She mounted me and with a devilish grin began to choke me with the top. I was gasping for air and was starting to fade when she suddenly took the top off my throat. Plaza tied my hands up and I saw her hand going for my briefs. Nope, not happening as I swung for the fences with bound hands and smashed them into her nose. Plaza fell over, howling in pain as I freed my hands. I crawled over and pinned one of her hands under her knee and hooked an arm and pulled back in a modified stretch. Plaza was trapped and began to scream as I maneuvered the top around her eyes and pulled back. Plaza was struggling to break free and I stuffed the oil soaked top into her mouth. Plaza finally tapped with her free hand on my bicep as I let go.

I was on my knees and absolutely exhausted. My body was covered in a mixture of sweat and oil and I was drained mentally. All the doubt, the anguish and fear had been flushed away. I had obtained some form of redemption as I stared at Plaza who was barely moving. A few guttural moans escaped from her mouth as tears ran down my eyes.

Redemption.

I knew deep down in my heart this wasn’t over.

[gameking]

Trilogy: Plaza

I always enjoy the chance to wrap up a trilogy, even it's a clean sweep or getting the second and definitive win. Sometimes being able to squeak out of a win against an opponent that bested you twice is quite the victory. The thrill of being put into an all-or-nothing battle against an opponent you know? Inject that into my veins. The first Plaza match was an absolute slaughter, a brutal beatdown capped off by the first and only (Thus far) time a celebrity went over the line.

At first, she brought me out of her slumber with a brutal squeeze of my scrotum, squeezing until I howled in pain. Content, she wrapped one hand around my fully erect penis and began to move up and down. At first, it was sensual as she slowly rubbed the shaft up and down. I was stifling moans of pleasure, refusing to give the satisfaction. I could do nothing but just murmur my distaste and protest what she was doing but that caused her to roughly jerk it around, like she was trying to rip it off. I could feel myself climaxing when Plaza pinched the tip, denying the satisfaction, digging her nails in. I cried out in pain at her predicament, just wanting this to be over. She had thoroughly dominated my body  physically, mentally and sexually. Plaza relented and smiled as I came. I could see a wet spot on my boxers, I was I was ashamed as Plaza took her out and delivered one last insult. A cum soaked punch to the jaw put me out of the fight. Plaza had rubbed l cum on the cheek to add salt to the wounds. I wasn’t knocked but at this point, I knew better to try anything.  I just laid there, wallowing in my own pity and looked above at her. Plaza eventually moved her foot and told me to turn my head, placing her foot on the same cheek, digging her foot and the cum in. I didn’t say anything as she took her foot off and used my stomach to wipe it off her foot.

The shame of what happened coupled with the psychological trauma of being forcefully jacked off was almost the end of me. I tended to laugh off or roll my eyes at those stories of men being sexually assaulted by women. It wasn't a laughing matter and it turned me into a shell of a human being. I became a recluse, had groceries delivered and only went out to get mail and take the trash out. My shoot job had been understanding enough and when I laid out *some* of the details, I was giving all the time off I was needed. I finally overcame it and thanks to a counseling provided by my job, I found my way again. It took months, but I gathered up the courage to return to my normal life. I got a rematch against Plaza but was forced to compete in a foreign environment, that being an oil wrestling match.

We were both on our knees struggling over a piece of clothing as we both had the same idea. Drove your opponent to the floor and let your fantasies run wild, Choking? Bondage perhaps? I made a mistake a tried to rise up to one knee but I slipped and Plaza won. She mounted me and with a devilish grin began to choke me with the top. I was gasping for air and was starting to fade when she suddenly took the top off my throat. Plaza tied my hands up and I saw her hand going for my briefs. Nope, not happening as I swung for the fences with bound hands and smashed them into her nose. Plaza fell over, howling in pain as I freed my hands. I crawled over and pinned one of her hands under her knee and hooked an arm and pulled back in a modified stretch. Plaza was trapped and began to scream as I maneuvered the top around her eyes and pulled back. Plaza was struggling to break free and I stuffed the oil soaked top into her mouth. Plaza finally tapped with her free hand on my bicep as I let go.

I was on my knees and absolutely exhausted. My body was covered in a mixture of sweat and oil and I was drained mentally. Eight months of doubt, of anguish and fear had been flushed away. I had obtained some form of redemption as I stared at Plaza who was barely moving. A few guttural moans escaped from her mouth as tears ran down my eyes.

Redemption.

With how ugly and dirty the first two matches were, I knew some nasty terms would be laid down and I welcomed it. We agreed to a catfight style battle, a new frontier for me. Everything would be fair game.


-No punches to the face but slaps to the face are allowed.

-Punches, knees and kicks to the body was allowed.

-Attacking private and sensitive area was not only welcomed, but allowed.

-Hair pulling, allowed.

-Only means of victory is a verbal submission.

-The winner would be granted the privilege of "humiliating" the loser (No penetration) and would take the loser's attire as a trophy.

I had heard through the grapevine that I might be sucking down on a strap-on as Plaza found a little loophole. Myself? I don't know, I'll make her watch the first season of Parks & Recreation, a Clockwork Orange style. Zing!  I knew going in how nasty this could get, the rules set forth by Plaza was a straight-up challenge by her to fight dirty. We finally met a few weeks after the challenge had been laid down upon at a hotel that was outside of the hustle and bustle of Hollywood. I had nerves of steel and ice water running through my veins, I was honed in on winning this and taking the series. Plaza came out, looking tan and fit in a jaguar print two-piece. I wore a pair of white briefs (Not my call).

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Plaza said undoing her top to reveal her perky breasts. Damn, they are nice even after seeing them up close. I was topless already, so I knew what this meant. I took off my brief and showed Plaza my manhood. I'd love to say that I had a log of salami but the reality was I had more of an Oscar Mayer hot dog in my arsenal. But hey, a .357 Magnum has some incredible power. Fighting in the nude, this is new. Not that I had fantasized about this in the past, possibly with prime red-head Mutiny, but still. This is new.

Plaza came in aggressively and I took advantage of the slapping rule and lit her face right up. The smack echoed throughout the room as she turned her back and I pushed her to the ground. I took her back and wrapped her hair around my hand and yanked it up. I heard a cry of pain as I pulled back even more before letting go and going with some heavy slaps to the side of the head. I even boxed her ears with the palms of my hand, a totally legal move that would throw her off. I grabbed the hair again and yanked up and did one of those old hair-mares you'd see. It was more an ugly throw but I sent her tumbling to the floor. I waited until she got back up and I could see a look of shell shock on her face, like when a boxer gets hit hard and is on wobbly legs. I didn't care as I came forward and feinted a gut shot that she bite on lit her up with another vicious slap. I saw the stomach was open, grabbed her and unloaded with a brutal knee right in the belly button. I could her biting hard on that lip as she tried to stay up, so I tripped her to the floor and locked eyes with her. I looked down at her breasts, perked my eyebrows up and let loose with a left jab into her breast. She howled and called me a fucker so I unleased with a right breast shot. The howls of pain would have me feeling bad if it were any other celebrity, but my dominance was short lived.

She hocked a loogie at me, which I dodged but it distracted me enough and I left my genitals open for a quick knee from the bottom. I can count the number of times I've been hit in the crotch in combat on one hand, but I had a gut feeling it'd be two hands by the end of tonight. I screamed out as Plaza slid out from underneath and stood above me and slowly brought her hand down my body and gripped my testicles. Time for the old testicular claw as I screamed in pain as she contorted my sack at unholy angles. I refused to give as Plaza let go and now it was slap time for me. Plaza hit hard and my right cheek stung feeling her shots. I saw her kneecap open and I threw a vicious elbow at it, enough to let out a hellish cry from her. I grab her legs, opened them up, gave her the finger and dropped a knee right on her crotch. I could see the anguish on her face as she called me a fucker. I scooped her up and rammed her straight into the wall, I could hear the wind leaving her body. I followed with a straight up cxnt kick that put her in a seated position, the pain must've been immense at that point. I slapped her face a few more times before dragging her up by the hair, dropping a few solid gut shots for good measure. The "OOFS" leaving her mouth gave me immense satisfaction, but Plaza found an opening. This time, she went for the eyes and while she didn't rake them, it was enough to get her off the wall.

My vision wasn't wrecked, but it was blurred enough for Plaza to land a stiff blow to the stomach that had me backing up. Plaza grabbed my nipples and twisted, holding me still for a brutal kick to the crotch. I tried going down but that grip was vice like and she delivered another kick and finally, a retaliatory knee. That one sent me to the floor and Plaza followed up, seeing my stomach and chest open and just started stomping the shit of that area. I was doing my best to avoid them but my mind was still fixated on the pain in my nether regions, but I finally caught her foot and bit her toes. That resulted in a "SHIT" being dropped as she backed up and I charged her and walked right into a kick to the dick. I was hunched over as Plaza forced me against the wall, leaving my right side open to just get battered with knees and kicks. The bitch even chopped me on the right side of my neck! That put me down as Plaza put her foot on my neck and grinded down. I couldn't do much and I knew she wasn't going for the win. Plaza let go and dragged me up by the arm and took me to the center of the room. She let loose with a couple playful slaps as I tried to fight from underneath to no avail. Plaza wrenched the arm back, leaving me open for a brutal strike to the collarbone that put me down hard. Plaza saw my hand in the open and stomped down on it, trying to nullify my best weapon. I let out a scream as she stood above me, planted her foot right on her face and posed. It wasn't over by any means but she was asserting dominance. She let me back up and offered me a free one, so I went to a different well.

The Manhattan Drop.

I scooped her up and dropped her crotch first on my knee. Before she went down, I grabbed a hold of her nipples, electing a scream and I caused a bigger one with a series of knees to the stomach followed by one last parting knee to the crotch. I was back into the fight but I put my foot on her face and flexed for the imaginary camera. I could see scorn in her eyes so I let her get back up and made her come to me. She charged, I sidestepped and launched my shin straight into stomach, I love a great shin kick. The way she was folded over made me erect as was when I dragged her to a standing position, stood behind her and directly punted her in the crotch. The visual of her legs going inward, trying to stand up but they were almost wobbly. I pushed her down to the ground and decided to wedgie her and turn those bottoms into a goddamn G-string. This was more of a comedy move but her cries of anguish were hilarious. With Plaza on her knees at my mercy, I grabbed ahold of those breasts and clawed at them, pinching the nipples and doing my best to inflict as much pain as I could. Plaza had resorted to biting my forearm which hurt, but that just amplified my desire to twist and claw more. Plaza finally elbowed my stomach enough to force a break and turned before me on her knees.

Old school wrestling low blow!

I'm gonna need that four bag on frozen peas after this.

I went down in a heap and I was hoping that I'd be numb to the pain by now, but no dice. Plaza stared right at me she grabbed my penis and bit the tip, sending an incredible amount of pain throughout my body. Plaza mounted me and began some retaliatory nipple punishment, twisting and clawing at them, going to one nipple to unleash some brutal slaps that I was defenseless for before moving onto a facesit. Now, I've been smothered once or twice, but remember, this match can only be won by verbal submission. If this knocked me out, the match goes one and I would be ripe for punishment. On the other hand, Aubrey Plaza has a nice ass for a skinny white girl, so I was enjoying this. And Plaza knew, so that's why she attacked my crotch, my screams muffled underneath her ass. I was panicking when I saw her long hair flowing. It was my ticket out, so I grabbed and yanked as hard as possible. I pulled Plaza off in the Knick of time and kept a hold as I had her on both knees and let loose with a devastating knee to the chest. Going by the gasp of air leaving her body, I hit her with another one and I didn't care if I caved her chest in. I could see her already vulnerable breasts were opened and I kicked the shit out of them, sending her to the floor.

As this point, it was do or die. I do, she dies. She does, I do. I let loose with a stomp right in the belly button that had her in a ball, writhing in pain but I didn't see her grabbing her shoe top when I got her up. *THWAP* The shoe went straight into the side, sole first, causing a great deal of pain. You don't think getting hit with a shoe hurts? Go fight a desperate Hollywood actress in a NHB fight. I backed up as she charged with the shoe, but I caught her with a vicious knife edged chop, she tried to retreat but I got her arm and the shoe dropped. So did the chop, as I lit for her chest up with four more but Plaza again, went to the eyes, causing a break. She unleashed a series of chops on her own, each one sending a stinging pain to my chest. I countered with one low to to the thigh to get free, followed by some slap-style chops to her breast that had her reeling. I saw the opening. I slammed my radius right in-between her shoulder blades and she went down. I could see her will to win was fading, and I saw her bikini top nearby. I grabbed and tied her hands even with much squirming on her end. I tied her up and rolled her over and mounted her. She was completely defenseless, so I opened with more vicious slaps to the face. She could only flinch and take them. I asked if she wanted to give and she refused. I started mauling her stomach with punches but again, she refused to give, this was pride. Plaza took each blow without so much as letting out a scream, not giving me the satisfaction of her pain. So I went to the breasts, I was determined to her the same screams she ripped out of me from our first fight. Punches and slaps, shit I even bit and while she screamed, she didn't give. Finally I saw the high heeled shoe, as desperation reared it's ugly head. If she survived this and somehow got out, I just threw my best punches at her and it didn't do the job. She would have the mental edge over me, so I drove that heel into her right areola, pushing it in a she let out a curdling screaming. I could see tears welling up and her eyes told the whole story, she knew that I had broke her. I kept pushing it in before she finally screamed "I QUIT" "I QUIT".

I rolled off her an emotionally exhausted victor, I could see the amount of pain and anguish she was in. I absolutely felt like hell, my entire body was in pain and it felt like I had been given a vasectomy against my will down there. I got up, placed my foot on Plaza's breast, pushing in a little before rolling her over. Humiliation time. I forced that ass of hers up in the air, did a quick pose with my foot on her ass, before rolling her back over. I contemplated that being it, before I decided, why the hell not and jerked myself off, unloading a nice wad of sperm on her breasts. I thought about doing it on her face, but I just love those little breasts of hers. It hurt like hell all things considered but I didn't give a shit at that point. I had some on my hand and rubbed it in her hair for good measure. I could see that she was seething, but there wasn't much she could do. I took my trophy, I had earned it in a vicious battle, but I exercised one of my biggest demons.

All that mattered.

[gameking]

Alright, this is just an excuse to write a story about getting my ass kicked by Elvira. The Mistress of the Dark, horror legend and all around babe. Nor is this set in the current day or hell any timeline, this is just for fun! Because Halloween! This one is a short but brutal ass kicking.



So enjoy!

I stood across from Elvira? What the hell was I getting into? I don’t care, I’m standing across from Elvira! Big hair, big breasts, vampy campy pale makeup and she wanted to kick my ass! I could see her eyeing me up from afar in her living room. Full of Halloween schlock decorations, she was wearing her black dress costume with plunging neckline. White gym mats covered the floor, some having red stains.

“I hope that isn’t blood,” I said apprehensively.

“Darling, your not the first male or female I’ve had on the mats ?. Big boy, I am going to kick your butt and I’m going to have fun while doing it! And you’re going to have fun being my victim,” The Mistress of the Dark said confidently.

“Well, the beating can’t be only any worse than the reviews for your movie!” I snapped back which drew an eye roll.

Elvira slowly undid her dress revealing a…floral print bikini? The bright colors and flowers contrasted to the big black hair and pale makeup with dark stockings.

“This little number came from the Hawaiian shirt of the last man who tried to cross me. You can see his skeleton down in the dungeon, where you’ll be after I’m done with you,” Elvira said full of tongue and cheek.

We faced off, and Elvira went the dirty route, grabbing a handful of my crotch in the dreaded ball claw. Elvira’s black painted nails dug into my scrotum, the mistress wearing a smile of pure delight at my pained expression. With the other hand of my chest, she forced me against the wall. I had my hands wrapped around her ball hand, trying to force a release, leaving me vulnerable. The ball-free hand slammed into my exposed solar plexus three times, each blow sapping my core. My nerve endings had a burning sensation, this was not a good start. Elvira landed one last blow, a quick forearm shiver to the diaphragm that coincided with the ball claw being released. I squared down, trying to gain my breath. I damn near threw up my lunch from earlier upon impact of the shiver.


Elvira made her way to the middle of the room as I stumbled towards her like a zombie. I tried for a lockup but was easily denied as Elvira launched a rocket launcher of a knee into my stomach, bending me over. Before I could even react, she had her hands clasped around my waist. “Did you know that on every third full moon, I am possessed by the spirit of the late Tor Johnson? And tonight is the third full moon!” No clue what that meant but I highly doubt Tor Johnson was busting out gut wrench suplexes in the 1950’s with brutal precision. I crashed hard onto the mat, the padding barely doing its job of protection. I had arched my back, groaning as horrendous pain rained down upon my spinal cord, a stabbing sensation in my lower back. The Mistress of the Dark went for the old Rhea Ripley pin but I stupidly kicked out. Elvira looked happy as she dragged me up and this time, went for the Hangman’s choke. My body was elevated off the floor and the combination back/neck pain was excruciating.

Elvira also has her hands squeezing away at the carotid arteries making it a triple threat of pain. I think the worst thing about it was the utter feeling of helplessness as I faded away. If it was a bearhug, well at least I could get a good view before going out. This however, all I could do was stare at the ceiling and wait to pass out. My attempts to break the hold had been incredibly pitiful. It didn’t matter, I was cooked.

She then of course transitioned into a bearhug, squeezing my lifeless corpse with the fury of an actual bear. Big squeezes as my cries of pain filled the room, my legs jolting out, my head rolling around. Resistance wasn’t an option out of the fear of what she would do to me. The only upside was getting a front row seat and peaking a gander at her legendary breasts. She noticed and squeezed with all her might, putting me on dream street as my head fell backwards, eyes closed.


Eventually my arms dropped to my sides and I passed out from the pain. I remember being dropped onto the mats and waking up face first on the ground. Elvira wasn’t waiting, her shins were on my back, my feet were bundled together and I could she her black finger nails wrapping around my chin. I knew this was going to be the dreaded bow-and-arrow and tried to fight it. Much like my attempts to break the hangman, it was about as useful as an air conditioner in Antarctica. Elvira fell back and I was again elevated and staring at the ceiling. I groaned as my back was being bent over her shins as my groans gave way to full blown screams, mixed with cries of pain.

“Oh be quiet you sissy. I could very easily use a real bow and arrow on you!” Elvira said with cackling glee.

Good point.

I finally blurted out a submission and Elvira was willing to let go.

“One more for the road and I’ll send you off to the dungeon on a good note. You ever hear of the human torture rack?” Elvira asked as dread filled my pain stricken, back feeling like it had a thousand tiny daggers stabbing it simultaneously.

I was barely to my feet when Elvira hoisted my up into the torture rack. It was a slow bend at first, Elvira wanting to drive the point in that she had easily dominated me. I was outright screaming, like some poor soul who’d been put on a real torture rack. I had closed my eyes at this point, that’s the level of pain I was in. Elvira was walking me around the room, showing me off to the imaginary crowd, continuing to bend my body to her will. It was kinda hot, not gonna lie. Finally she walked towards the middle of the room and began to crank even harder. The more I screamed, the more she screamed. If I stopped screaming, well she cranked harder to elicit a scream. Finally, she dropped down to knees, really fast and I felt an insane jolt of pain going down to my already tender back. Not enough to knock me out, but enough to put me out of the fight for a good. My body was convulsing from the sudden blow to my spinal cord, Elvira cheerily demanding that I get back up. The Mistress of the Dark stared down at me, taking a good luck at the work she had done. My face was a twisted mask of agony from the ball claw, piston punches to the stomach and smorgasbord of back pain.

Elvira mounted my prone body, snagging a grapevine that I easily let her have. She wasn’t stretching my legs out, but she pinned my hands down with hers. Staring above at my pale faced dominator at she slowly lowered her legendary breasts over her face. A breast smother is still incredibly painful, your air supply is cut off as you slowly go to sleep. It didn’t help being out through back breaking hell but I came to embrace the calmness and serenity of the moment. Any tenseness in my body gave way and I felt like I was floating with my face up in the swimming pool.

I was out.

One foot on the face and victory pose later as she called her minions to drag my body out of the room. Total and utter domination by the Mistress of the Dark.

[gameking]

Another invitation to the Mistress of the Dark’s lair and you know what that means. A brutal one-sided ass kicking and my hope was to not die in the process. This time we weren’t in a dingy wrestling room with bloodstained mats but a pristine white room, the type of room that looks to be obsessively cleaned. Overly sterile if that’s humanly possible. That is actually creepier then the wrestling dungeon.

The Mistress of the Dark, Halloween Havoc pitchwoman entered the room, staring me down from afar. Elvira derobed and gone was the bright floral bikini she wore from the first match and now I’m worried. She was now wearing a tight probably a size too small black one piece swimsuit, a very low cut piece that most certainly accentuied…her assets. Cut enough to show a pair of legs that most certainly were going to wrapped around my body. Big hair, big breasts and a look on her face that screamed “ I am gonna send you to a deep, dark place and I am gonna have fun doing it!” For reference:

Did I just quote the Coen brothers in this hacky series? Yes. I have no shame.

I charged in, trying to take the center of the room. Elvira smirked, chuckled and met me in the middle of the room. We locked arms and I went for the big blow, a rocket launcher of a knee to that covered stomach. I could see a roll of the eyes from Elvira as she easily blocked it. I tried another but she blocked again and caught my leg. I was now on one leg at the mercy of Elvira. I threw a few jabs that she comically dodged even if they had little chance of connecting. I found myself tumbling to the floor and placed on the wishbone as the Mistress launched a knee of her own. This one landing right in my belly button eliciting a yell of pain. Elvira sat by my head no doubt preparing to choke the life out of me with her legs. Elvira hoisted me to a sitting position and wrapped her pale legs around my chest and began squeezing. I don’t know if she’s just overpowered when wrestling me but my god were my ribs screaming. I’ve taken scissors from Rapture and Rene and those felt like nothing compared to this. I was ready to scream out a useless submission when I suddenly found my arms wrapped my throat. The old Japanese Strangle Hold, I began sputtering out a tepid defeat as she constricted my throat with my arms. Finally she laid back, dragging me down and eventually placed her legs on my arms. This lady is scissoring my arms and driving them even further into my throat. I was feeling drowsy when she finally slithered off me. I could barely breathe much less mount an offensive attack.

I wasn’t cooked, I was one of those pieces of
 meat you smoke for like twelve hours. A brisket cooked in mayonnaise for a week levels of cooked. I tried to get back up, the Mistress of the Dark circling me and taunting me with horror based puns. I grabbed a pale leg to get back up and was immediately pulled upwards. Elvira grabbed my hand and flipped my over effortlessly with a judo throw. The floor was hard and I bounced off it upon impact, my lower back screaming in pain. I was dragged up for two more throws, this time my whole back was taking the brunt. Alright, maybe I’ll just die in this room and be free of this wretched job. I was dragged back up for an over-the-shoulder throw and she was certainly taking her time before throwing me. If I wanted to make a comeback, it was NOW OR NEVER. SO I GRABBED A REAR NAKED CHOKE AND BEGAN CHOKING THE LIFE FROM HER.

OR I THOUGHT I DID.

Because all that came out from her was some mocking coughs and pleas. My valiant attempt to change the course of my demise deflated faster than getting rejected for prom. I kept on squeezing but like a teenager trying to pop his first pimple, nothing was happening. UNTIL ELVIRA DECIDED THIS WAS THE NIPPON BUDOKAN AND SLIPPED BEHIND AND DRILLED ME HEAD FIRST WITH A BACKDROP DRIVER. The sound of my head hitting the hard floor was sickening as I just laid on the ground. If this was the Nippon Budokan, I would’ve popped up, screamed, drilled her with four elbows, a half nelson tiger suplex and finally a rolling lariat. I was doing that, in my head at least as cries of agony filled the room. Was I concussed? Yes. However, I got back up. And went right back down when Elvira slapped me to the ground with a simple backhand. I could see her checking her nails as I crawled towards, treating me like the nonchalant threat I was. I was up to my knees as she backed up, sizing me up. She backed up and charged towards me, I could do nothing but play the proverbial deer in the headlights. The KO knee was coming fast and I had to throw a Hail Mary. I barely ducked the knee and throws a full force punch…and hit thin air.

Shit.

*THWACK*

Instead of a knee to the face to loosen my teeth, I was instead the recipient of a full force shin-led kick to the occipital bone. I went down face first, the blow was devastating, my entire skull was screaming in pain. I rather would’ve taken the knee than a full force kick. I could see that The Mistress of the Dark was pleased with her assault and began the process of inducing more pain. I easily gave up my limbs for the dreaded Ceiling Hold, no kidney slaps were needed. I was in such a haze that I could barely see the pristine white ceiling. I remained up there for a torturous two full minutes as some she mastered the hold. Must’ve been all the El Santo films that played on her. My screams filled the room as my entire body was pushed to its limit. When she finally dragged me down, my body was completely knackered. I tried to get up but her pale foot pushed me down. Those pale hands with long black nails pulled me up between her legs as she grabbed a hold of my waist. I tried to sandbag what I thought was coming but it was useless. The Mistress of the Dark hoisted me into the air for a powerbomb. I could do nothing but stare up and into the eyes of my destructor. Elvira with a gleeful look slammed he full force into the hard floor with a brutal powerbomb. Driving all her weight into it, I was barely coherent. Another failed battle against the Mistress of the Dark resulted in a Rhea Ripley style folded pin as she ten counted me out.

I heard her call a group of hooded druids in who dragged me away like a ceremonial carcass as she said come again anytime I want another ass kicking.

Maybe, probably, yes.

I blame the Halloween Havoc ads dammnit!

[gameking]

The next day, I woke up in a haze, wondering if the matches against The Mistress of the Dark were fantasy or reality. My body felt fine but I also had vivid memories of the sheer destruction reigned down upon me. I checked my phone and saw a email:

I’ve sent a deposit for the match, looking forward to getting in the ring with you. My legs can crush diamonds by the way .

-Karen G

There was an attachment and I clicked on it. It was a photo from her modeling days:

I’m dead.

I arrived at the gym, got changed and walked to the ring to find my opponent already set for action. She was wearing a black one piece corset swimsuit that showed off an amazing pair of legs. I couldn't see her face since her back was to me, but she had long red hair and she was tall. Damn near my height almost. When she easily put her leg on the top rope to stretch it out, I gulped.

"Miss...Gillan?"

Gillan turned around and I matched eyes with a beautiful women. I was intimidated right off the bat. She shot a look at me, I tried to smile.


Gillan approached the ropes and looked straight at me.

"I hope you know what got yourself into mate. Who have you fought that makes you worthy of fighting me?"

"I’ve had a few fights in my day. Won some, lost plenty. I’m not afraid of a beanpole."

"Well, those girls are nothing compared to me. You're going to be worth bugger all in the morning after this. These legs have dominated so many poor lads. Plain and simple, I'm going to break you, take no offense. I do it to everybody I face. So are you going to step in the ring with me?"

Gillan walked back to her corner as I entered the ring as I didn't care honestly as I was determined to shut up Gillan after her overt cockiness. Gillan went into her stretching routing and most of it seemed to show off her legs. The splits, using every rope to show her legs and look at me while doing so. She said it was to loosen up, but I knew exactly what she was doing.

These babies are going to knock you out over and over again.

She was showing them off to me, not to get my seal of approval, but to show me what would bring forth my demise.

And it was working. I felt two feet tall in the room staring at her legs, knowing that I had very little to counter her legs. We were almost the same in terms of height and I knew if she cornered me, I was screwed.

Finally, the non-existent bell rang as I tried to put on my best game face, but I felt as though it was over before the fight began. We locked up temporarily as I managed to drive her into the ropes but she locked in a headlock. Surprising amount of arm strength from a leg based fighter. I grabbed her hair and pulled back hard. She let go as I had a strand or two of her hair and threw it back in her face. Bad idea as she launched a teep kick to the chest that sent me into the rope. I could feel pain flaring up but I shrugged it off. I came back at her as she hit me square in the stomach with a perfect spinning back kick that had me nearly doubled over. With my head down, she launched a vicious axe kick the connected to the back of my neck. I hit the mat hard, but I wasn't out. I was groggy but I was flat on my stomach when Gillan sat down on the middle of my back. Her longs legs shot outwards for a camel clutch, albeit more of a taunting maneuver. I've been in worse ones, but seeing those legs spread out was the main reason for the move. I pretty knew that tapping out was no good, but Gillan let go of the hold.

I knew it was torture time with those legs and I dreaded another broken rib or god knows what else. Gillan whispered this in my ear:

"Scissors city bitch. You can tap any time, but I'm just going to put you in another hold."

Gillan sat down in-front of me and locked in a basic, garden variety head scissors but the pain was astounding. Her legs were almost made of steel it felt like as they were clamped around the sides of my neck. She was squeezing with all her might as I groaned and she laughed at my peril. I was determined to not tap, but she was kind to let go of the hold and transition to a figure-four head scissor and now the pain was even worse. I had her calve putting copious amounts of pressure on the back of my neck and when I tried to make a rare counter by trying to stand up, that seemingly angered her and she tightened the hold even more. Finally, I gave in and tapped out after my neck felt like it was starting to break. She let go, all smiles as I held my neck. It seemed like she was giving me some breathing room before she decided that time was up. She approached me and put out her hand out and actually helped me out....

Before she dropped down and locked me into a body scissors, her legs crushing my sides. She also secured my writs so I had little to no way of getting free. I probably would have screamed that Matt Smith was terrible and tried to punch her in the stomach. Still though, my air was restricted and my breathing was labored as I felt like I had a python coiled around my waist. She was once again all smiles as she let go as my body fell closer. I realized what she had done as her legs once again became a figure four and now I was locked in a body scissors that calf of her's slowly putting pressure on my back. I arched backwards in a futile attempt to get at her ankle and realized her lankiness would be my downfall. Finally, I tapped the mat three times and she let go. I fell into her body, huffing and puffing after having my will to fight squeezed out of me.

"Sorry mate, I'm not the cuddling type."

Right now, I'd take some cuddling with a grizzly bear over this. Thus far, I'd been put into four scissor holds and had never felt this bad of pain. I'd been scissored by bodybuilder types on every steroid known to man and that pain PALED in comparison to the current level of pain. And these holds were being executed to perfection. Gillan had been nice enough to push me off her body and I was face down on the mat. I actually was granted the right to stand up and then promptly realized that it was a BAD BAD IDEA. After feeling Gillan's kicks for the first time, I actually shot in on her for a quick take down and was stuffed. I found myself on all fours with Gillan's leg around the sides of my neck. Her ankles were crossed with hands on her hips and I took comfort in that it wasn't a figure four one. Still the feeling of her calves clamping down on me made me quickly tap as she let go of the hold and I fell to the mat.

"I must have softened you up with those previous scissors for you to tap so fast. Little kicking action will help take away the sting from the scissors."

You know what, I'll take it.

Gillan used my head to get me standing position and pushed me against the ropes, and I stayed there. She tried launching a kick to the stomach but I was able to block with my arm. Gillan looked surprised that I still had some fight left in me and threw a kick to my right leg. I tried to catch it, but I realized that my stomach was wide open now for a brutal kick to the stomach, fibula first. I let out a large amount of air as I was seated on the middle rope and memories of what Hayek did to me came up. Instead, Gillan grabbed my head and snap mare'd me to the mat and kept me in a sitting position. She backed up like a kicker measuring and launched a brutal kick to the back that caused an echo in the room. I yelled out from the stinging pain that I felt in my back, which give Gillan incentive to launch another one. Same thing, scream in pain and that was followed up by a merciful last kick. The pain in-between my shoulder blades was awful as Gillan once again let me get to all fours before putting me on my knees. I saw Gillan walk in-front of me and I realized what was coming next. Gillan was aiming at my chest with her lead leg and:

(To the stomach)
*THWACK*
(To the chest)
*THWACK*
(Stomach)
*THWACK*
(Chest)
*THWACK*
(Stomach)
*THWACK*
(Stomach)
*THWACK*
(Stomach)
*THWACK*
(Chest)
*THWACK*
(Chest)
*THWACK*
(Stomach)
*THWACK*
(STOMACH)
*THWACK*
(Stomach)
*THWACK*
(Stomach)
*THWACK*
(Chest)
*THWACK*
(Chest)
*THWACK*
(TO THE HEAD)

Fifteen kicks to the stomach and chest area, each kick inflicting more pain than the last. I did my damnedest to block the kicks, but I knew they connected. My body had various imprints from the kicks, various shades of red was the color of the day. It honestly looked like I had engaged in a chopping contest with The Big Show. Gillan tried to launch a fancy head kick, thinking she was a red headed Cro Cop, but I ducked it. Gillan looked shocked again and she tried to throw another kick to the head, that I managed to duck miraculously. I was almost smiling at this point when I stood up, thinking I could catch a leg and maybe do some leg torture vi-

I just got booted in the face, Luke Haper style (For reference: http://i.imgur.com/4RG8Z3z.gif).

I fell flat on my back as Gillan stood over me and I believed that I had been knocked out. Seriously, I just got kicked full force in the face. I stumbled backwards into the corner, my head down and slumped down to the mat. I'm done, game over....

Apparently, I'm not.

Gillan turned around and looked at me.

"Up for another round Mary? I promise no more kicking."

I came out of the corner and was then stopped by Gillan who put her foot against her chest and pushed me back into the corner. While it was rather sexy to see her fully extended leg holding me there, what wasn't sexy was her foot being firmly planted on my throat. As she choked the life out of me via foot, I could only think that this was a new area for more pain to be inflicted upon. Gillan changed it up by using the other foot to choke me as I tried to gurgle out a verbal submission but finally tapped out. I really didn't know what else Gillan had in store for me, I had tapped about a few times and was seriously hoping this would end soon. It did not, however as Gillan got her left leg around my throat for a single-leg scissor and my throat once again found itself being crushed. I actually tried this time to escape and I actually loosened the hold to escape and I felt rather proud of myself. Holy shit, the sad state of affairs. Patting myself on the back for breaking out of a hold.  Gillan was already stalking me as I backed up against the ropes and I actually took her down when she tried to kick me in the leg. Right into a side goddamn body scissors and worst of all, I was facing my tormentor. Gillan's legs were one full display as I desperately tried to undo her ankle, but it was fruitless at this point as she crushed my stomach with her legs. After gritting my teeth to try and not scream, I finally tapped the mat three times and Gillan let go. She even began to look bored at this point.

"This isn't fun anymore, but I got a few tricks up my sleeve to liven things up."

Gillan rolled me onto my stomach and slipped one leg underneath my stomach and connected it underneath her knee. In the fetish world, this move is out there, it's a body lock commonly used in MMA to weaken opponents. With the right technique however, it can end fights and break ribs. Being flat on my stomach however made things worse for me since she had easy access to the upwards foot to exert pressure on my ribs. No doubt it took some finagling on her end to lock in properly and once it was locked in and she drove her hips forward....it was the worst pain that I have ever encountered. The pressure on my ribs and spine was at maximum level and yet something took over in me. I was refusing to tap despite my grimaces and damn near girlish screams. My breathing became constricted and dizziness took over as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I looked around at the world as my head hit the mat and I was officially knocked out. Gillan let go of the hold and went over to me, and almost seemed disappointed that I had succumbed to the darkness.

"Bloody Americans, always passing out in that hold. Shame, I had two moves that I wanted to show off. You ever hear of  The Splitter?"

Gillan once again rolled over to my back and positioned me in a sitting position. Gillan sat behind me, her legs right next to mine. I woke from my slumber to find myself locked in a full nelson, but she wasn't putting any pressure on the hold. I knew what she was doing, it was to hold me and make me see what was coming up next. Gillan manipulated her underneath her ankles, locking them together and then quickly split my legs part in a full split. It was fast too and the pain was damn near unbearable as I screamed. Nothing came from her since her legs were stretched out and let's be honest, she could handle the pain. On the other hand, I had sustained a brutal beating and my stretching consisted of what you did in elementary school gym class.

Essentially, she has the flexibility to pull off the hold with minimal pain on her end. I, on the other hand, lack it. Gillan seemed content to leave me...umm...split until she let go of the hold. I rolled over far away, holding my legs in pain as

"I must say Jobber, I'm impressed that you didn't pass out from that hold, having your legs stretched out that far is rather painful. You're quite tough. It's now time for the big finish, so I need you to get on up."

I groggily got up as Gillan stood in-front of me and did a handstand right into me, her legs locking around the sides of my leg, ankles crossed. It was a handstand standing head-scissors and I must praise Gillan for keeping it locked on. I slowly felt the sides of my neck being crushed by her sleek but powerful legs as I found myself wobbly, like a drunk trying to stay standing. My hands automatically shot up to try and break the hold, but I knew this was a futile effort at this point. I could the darkness overtaking me as I passed out in a lovely set of legs. Gillan let go of the hold once she realized I was out as I fell to the mat.

Karen took a seat at my side and propped her feet up on my chest, quite the inventive victory pose.

Those damn things could probably crush a diamond.

[gameking]

I walked into the rather spacious gymnasium, got changed into new gear: black grappling shorts and a rash guard. I thought that maybe a new wardrobe would help my confidence. I walked into the room Watson had reserved and already found her waiting and she was wearing almost the same thing, pink for the guard and black for the shorts. Sorry pervs, no thong or anything like that.

"I'll say this, I definitely look better."

"Right, mate. Any special rules? I heard No Rules have became quite popular for your bouts."

"Sorry Heromine, I'm kicking this old school. You're welcome to pursue any type of tactic to win...and I am allowed to do the same thing. The only exception is shots to the face, which are banned for protection. Submissions, and strikes to the body are legal, you or I can tap out any time to end this, or it ends in a knockout."

I did notice that one of the walls was essentially a giant mirror.

"I presume the wall with the giant mirror is intentional right?"

"I'm gonna knock you out and I'm gonna make you watch me as I do it"

Alright, this muggle is dead.

We also agreed that if the fight reached the mirrored wall, we would reset position in the middle of the mat. Don't want this turning into a death match.

We got into a traditional grappling face-off and I realized something. I'm 5’8 and 155 pounds and she is 5'5 and 115 pounds. So, I rushed Watson and put her against the wall. I had Watson against the wall, she was squirming about, trying to figure out her next move. Sh got her arms wrapped around my neck for a guillotine, but I quickly got out of the hold and backed off. We once again returned to the center of the mats and I again rushed her and placed her against the wall. This time, I had double under-hooks and tripped Watson to the ground. I could her a grunt as her back hit the thin mat. Automatically, her legs shot around my waist for a scissors, but I quickly shot up and walked away from Watson. I turned around and had a shit-eating grin on my face.

The swagger is back.

I could see Watson sitting up, miffed that I had taken her down with ease. Her hair was over her eyes and she blew at it, frustrated. I made the decision to walk over to her and offer my hand to help her up. In what can only be proof that English actresses are much nicer than their American counterparts, she accepted it and you know....didn't hit me.* We once again walked to the middle of the mats and faced off again. This time, Watson shot in on my right leg and got me to the ground with a single leg take down. I half-ass closed my legs, but what happened next shocked me. Watson hit me with an open hand slap to the face. I was genuinely confused until Watson stood up and walked away. When she turned around, she too had a shit-eating grin on her face. I got up myself (So much for my early theory about English actresses) and the moment Watson approached me, she quickly tried a double leg takedown, but I sprawled and I landed on her upper back of Watson. With a near dominant position, I quickly transitioned and got my arms locked in around her waist. Watson threw some elbows at my grip, trying to get out of her precarious position.

With all my strength, I lifted Watson off the ground and slammed her back down to the mat a foot away. Watson's head hit the mat with a *THUNK*, so I decided to get a little squeezing in around the petite waist.Watson began working on getting to a decent base by rolling around and at least trying to move into a sitting position. I have to give her credit, I upped the squeezing but she kept working and moved to a seated position. What she did next however, was smart. She grabbed me pinkie and twisted it outwards in an attempt to break the grip or break my pinkie. Eventually, the pain became unbearable and I let go of the grip. I thought about tending to the pinkie, but I knew Watson would try something and actually jumped on my back for a sleeper-hold and dragged me to the ground, with a scissors locked in for good measure. The scissors wasn't super tight, so I began to work on getting the sleeper loosened. That was tight. Finally, I was able to get the sleeper off me and was able to turn my body and was facing Watson. That's went I felt the scissors tighten in the dreaded figure-four, the same was Gillan did me in.

"Trapped you, mate."

I'm in-between Heromine Granger's legs....this is every perverted Potter fans dream!

I decided to reciprocate to the slap earlier with an open hand slap to the chest that caused a loud echo throughout the room. It stung because I saw Watson cringe and she automatically got control of my hands. It lacked the "OH MY GOD, SHE IS CRACKING MY SPINE WITH HER LEGS" level of pain, so it gave me a chance to work a reversal. I was laying flat on Watson's body, so I got my knees to a kneeling position and began to push forward, finally getting Watson to let go of my hands. I managed to clasp both hands behind her head and moving it upwards towards the chest. It's an old MMA move, the can opener and I happened to know how to apply it for max pain. Finally, I felt the pressure from around my stomach relax as Watson grunted as I kept the hold on. I got back up and once again offered my hand to Watson and right when she grabbed my hand, she launched her heel straight into my stomach. I was already bent over but the pain was still rather bad. My stomach hadn't exactly recovered from Gillan and her kicks, and this gave Watson ample time to set up her next move. I tried to clinch up with Watson out of extinct more than anything, and she managed to get a few good shots to the gut in. I blocked one or two of them with my hip as I shot in for a takedown and was stuffed by Watson, who dished out a few kidney punches. She went to throw a knee, but I caught it at the last second.

I fully extended the leg out, kicked the other one out from underneath her, putting her on the ground. I had a hold of one leg and I quickly turned Watson onto her stomach, crossed her legs and stuck mine in and leaned back. This might cause minimal pain, even more when I managed to lock my arm around her throat and clasped my hands together for a Muta Lock, even bridging for the hold. I could hear Watson grunting and groan because of the pressure on her throat, trying to get the submission victory. Once again, a desperate Watson reached into her bag of tricks and went for the the eyes as she raked them repeated.After numerous rakes, I finally let go of the hold as I checked my eyes to see if I could see. I managed to keep Watson on my stomach as I mounted her (That sounds awful) and locked in a basic hammerlock, but I wrenched the arm up as high as I could. Watson was squirming and her legs were kicking the floor, so I decided to up the arm pain by reaching into his own bag of tricks. I moved to Watson's left side, pinned it between his legs and then lifted the arm he'd work over up and hooked it. It was The Rings of Saturn, a move that is inescapable if used properly. I had the move locked in tight as Watson began to scream out in pain, as Watson did all she could to escape. Finally, I made a mistake and stretched her a big high and she rolled over. While I still had one arm trapped, Watson was able to slide it out and moved into a mounted position. She tried going for a kimura, but I was able to block it, frustrating her along the way. I was able to roll over onto my stomach and then I realized that it was a bad fricking idea. She could go with the body-lock that made me pass out or something worse. If that even exists. It does. Watson quickly moved into a figure four head scissors on her side, trapped my arm in-between her legs and manipulated me onto flaying around like a fish, flopping around from being on my side to flat on my stomach and held down my free arm. The pain was awful, bordering on excruciating when she would move her hips forward, thus forcing my head and neck forward. She also threw in the occasional punch to the gut and to my hip when I would try and block it. I was desperate for an escape and I actually stumbled onto one miraculously.

The next time, she brought me forward, I was able to get my trapped hand free and I PUNCHED HER IN THE TEMPLE! I broke my rules, but then again, she raked my eyes like five times, so fuck it. She quickly let go of the hold and rolled over to check her precious face as I rubbed my neck. I approached her, and she threw a wicked elbow to the liver that put me down. Bas Rutten would be happy, I am not though as my liver is in worse pain than 50 center beer and wings night. I gotta feeling the gloves are coming off and the whole respectful grappling part of the day is gone.* Watson spread my legs apart and I'm thinking that I'm getting Molly'd...She just headbutted me in the junk. Did I mention I was wearing a steel cup?Watson came up to one knee holding her head, so I launched both feet at her stomach and they made a nice little indentation in her stomach. I could hear a bit of air escape from her body followed by a loud grunt as I rolled over onto my stomach and got back up. Watson was fast on my trail as she approached and put hers fists up, and I did the same. The air in the room changed, gone was the feel of a traditional wrestling match and now it felt like a fistfight was coming.

I've felt that feeling before.

Watson threw a quick jab that I parried at my face and then I realized the rules had been thrown out the window. I tried to counter with a punch of my arm, but she caught my arm and hooked it, fully extending it out. Watson threw a few quick shots to the stomach, each one driving the air out of my stomach. These were little shots, as I noticed she wasn't exactly a heavy hitter. Still, the little shots do the damage over time and she launched two punches to the chest as I realized I was trapped. I kicked her leg out from underneath her and she tumbled to the ground, as did I. I dropped a thunderous punch to the stomach as her legs kicked up in the air and she moaned in pain. I brought down two or three punches from the same angle as she grunted with each blow. I dropped one more but Watson quickly rolled out of the way. We both up and engaged in a tight clinch as Watson threw a wicked knee and grabbing a hold of my rash guard and threw three wicked knees that to my gut, followed by a brutal one right to the jaw. She followed up with another as I was manipulated against the wall. Watson let go as I less than gracefully stumbled against the wall. Watson stood before me, cracking her knuckles.

First it was a left jab when I came at her, it put me against the wall again. She followed that up with a left cross, followed by a right hook as I tried to block the shots, but they were connecting right on the button. A left uppercut snapped my head backwards, leaving my face open by a brutal and what should have been fight ending right hook. I was still standing by some miracle, punch drunk even, so Watson grabbed my head in a Thai clinch. She reared back with a brutal knee to the head followed by one to the gut, another one to the gut and finally one last shot to the head. She let go as I crumpled to the floor. My jaw was stinging from the barrage of knees and punches and this would put me down. I saw Watson rearing back that knee and blew a goodnight kiss and threw the knee at my head. Her knee crashed against the hard wood wall as I saw her limping as I tackled her to the ground and locked in a knee bar, hyper-extending it as far as I could. I could Watson scream out in pain as she scrambled to find a way out. She threw a series of punches at the small of my back trying to inflict pain, but I was running on adrenaline. I was hoping to hear the sweet sound of hand tapping mat, but I was disappointed when she was still squirming. I didn't know that her gym bag was in a reach as she got a hold of her belt and she lashed my back about seven times before the pain was so great that I let go. Watson got up and lashed my back a few more times before dropping the belt. Note to self, make sure the rematch is a White Castle of Fear Match. Watson crawled onto my back and managed to lock her legs in for the body lock. She locked in precisely with the hips pressed forward and I was screaming in pain. I had theorized that escape had been impossible against Gillan because of her height. She suggested that if I could get my arms between my legs and began to push onto my side, I could buck her off. Well, I managed to get hands between her legs and managed to get to my side, but the fact that we were both sweaty resulted in me flat on my back. Watson had put her hand out to stop from falling over and reapplied the bodylock, albeit not as painful. I also realized that me being flat on my back and trapped was also not good. Watson just as easily punch me out from this position, but she leaned forward and..

Licked me?

While it was thoroughly erotic, dried saliva is weird and then she slapped me in the face. Then licked the other side of my face. Then slapped me in that side of the face. Rinse. Repeat. Humiliation. This is how it ends, doesn't it? Just seal my fate with a punch to the fa....

Just hit her in the stomach dummy.

I did that and while it affected her, I could see that it didn't help my plight. So, I hit her again and I could feel the grip loosen. Finally, a rocket launcher of a third one finally resulted in Watson stumbling my right side, opening her legs for me to escape. I put all my weight on top of her, and started to punch away at the stomach with everything I could. I could hear her groan as she covered up completely as I was not on my knees hitting her and eventually I stood and just threw punches at her side and anywhere, trying to connect with a heavy shot. It was like the frustration from the last two fights was finally released with these punches, almost like it was my JOBBER SMASH moment. The sound of punches hitting flesh filled the room as I stood up and quickly fell to the ground, like I had expended all my energy. I stumbled over the wall to keep myself up I saw Watson crawl over to the mirror as we both locked eyes when she got to a sitting position.

I nodded my head, she nodded her head in return.

After fifty five minutes of what could be described a war, the fight was hopefully reaching it's climax.

We both came out of our respective areas like two boxers in the final round. We were both exhausted with Watson's hair disheveled, both of our guards were covered in sweat, both of us breathing heavily. We both threw tepid jabs that dodged easily. I shot in for a takedown with everything I had left, but Watson dodged it and I went crashing shoulder first into the mirrored wall. It didn't hurt, but I was hoping to reset, but Watson was aggressive. I was holding my shoulder in pain as Watson grab my hair and drove my head straight into the mirror full force. It caused a small crack in the mirror and luckily, there was no blood loss. Watson grabbed my head and again, rammed it into the mirror again, causing the crack to grow. After a third one, I fell backwards to the floor, out of it. I can't blame her, the rules had been thrown out the window a long time ago and it was about the victory at this point. Watson stood over me and just as she promised, I was going to witness myself being knocked out and humiliatingly enough, it was a foot on the throat. I squirmed as her foot was brought down upon my throat, causing intense pressure as my legs flailed in the air. My hands tried to lift it off, but it gave Watson the incentive to up the pressure. I was out of time, and I was out of ideas....

So I hit her in the vagina.

I could see her eyes well up with tears as her foot immediately left my throat. She stumbled a bit and then fell backwards to the mat, holding her nether regions in pain. I felt guilty, but I knew that with the mirror shots, she had escalated the conflict. I was still on the ground, as I slowly made it to all fours, getting up wasn't easy. I thought about approaching her, but I knew better so I waited as she crawled towards me, and I crawled towards her. We were both on our knees and it almost felt like the first one to rise would pick at the bones of the other. Watson got on one knee as I tried to will my body to meet up, but she made a mistake. She threw a wild punch that I ducked and she fell to the ground. I kind of assisted her and held her down as I sat on her back. I snagged in a full nelson and slowly got my knees off the ground. I was going for a full nelson camel clutch, the inescapable death move that I had inflicted upon me by numerous celebrities. I pulled back with all my might and was using whatever energy I had left in me to pull back on the hold. No funny games, so that could bring up and back down like I went through, just get the fucking tap out. I could hear her screaming and I did her the honor of making sure she wouldn't have to see this via mirror. I continued to pull with all my might for almost a full minute in a half, and I could see Watson was fighting passing out. Almost begrudgingly, I heard music to my ears:

*TAPS OUT ON MY KNEE*
*TAPS OUT ON MY KNEE*
*TAPS OUT ON MY KNEE*

I let go automatically and fell backwards and rolled out Watson. My body was in immense pain as I tried to get up. It was tough, but I finally got up as I offered my hand to Watson who slapped it away. I'd explain what happened next, but for now, I'm done talking.

[gameking]

A dreary ride to a local wrestling school for yet another ring match. With the movie script about pro wrestling and this being another ring match, I suspected that I'd be going pro-style. Which is a nice step up from my last few rings matches of being slaughtered without remorse. This one is a bit different, first the opponent is:

What a woman. Just drop dead sexy from head to toe. She drove me wild watching the Agent Carter TV show wearing the wardrobe of the time. Apparently she was staring in a film about the first women’s pro wrestling that took place at the legendary Royal Albert Hall in 1987. Haley had the training and wanted to put it to good use in the ring. Of course I got the call but I wasn’t too keen on the pair of American flag skivvies I’d been sent by her people. I instead opted for the old Apollo Creed flag shorts, just without being murdered by Ivan Drago.

I walked into the gym, got changed and began to warm up, putting on boots this time to play up the pro wrestling theme. Apparently, Atwell was already in the building and she emerged in a form fitting and tight Union Jack one-piece swimsuit with red boots. It certainly accentuated her body as she entered with a dour look once she saw my gear.

"Really, no American flag gear? I told your boss that I wanted to go for an America vs England theme."

“I’m not wearing a banana hammock so this is the best you’re getting. Just don’t Ivan Drago me and we’re good.”

"That's great and all, but why are we partaking in a pro wrestling match? I’m hurt, I’m tired and I just want to go home."

"You didn't read the script didn't you?"

"I did not."

"Well, I'm partaking in some method acting, darling. I've done a few months training and I want to get a feel for actually having a match. I'm doing my own stunts for this movie."

"I'm not feeling it."

I began to leave but Atwell called me out.

"Were you feeling getting killed by Karen Gillan? Or how about being in an hour long brawl with Emma Watson? I'm offering you a chance to cut loose and have some fun! No excessive knockouts or having your noggin rammed into a mirror. Just a good old fashioned wrestling match, with you playing the villain and with me being the blue-eye. We start off competitive, you take over, I come back and get the win."

Take a dive? I wasn't thrilled with that idea, but dammit if this was an intriguing proposition. I agreed, under the usual conditions and that we would go all out until the finish. Atwell put her hair back into a ponytail as the ref motioned for us to our respective corners.

"So, do you have a preferred finishing move?"

"I like that Superkick move."

This time we actually had a bell as we left our corners and locked up. Old school collar elbow tie up as we both battled for position. Suddenly, Atwell let go and hit with me with a crisp arm-drag that even had me impressed. I hit the mat hard and saw Atwell with a cheeky grin on her face as we once again locked up. I threw Atwell into the ropes and dropped down, but at the last moment I raised myself up just a teeny bit to trip her up. She tumbled to the mat as she stared daggers at me as she rose, and I responded with a cheeky grin. We circled each other for a moment till she doubled me over with a stiff boot to the gut. She grabbed my head for a quick headlock and we moved over to the corner and I complained about Atwell grabbing what is left of my hair. Finally, the ref broke us up as I did the squiggly hands and even blew a kiss at her to taunt her. This set Atwell off as she pushed the ref away and threw a wild punch at me that I ducked. I pushed her back into the corner and stuck her with a stiff right hand to the gut. I took Atwell out of the corner and tried to scoop her up for a slam but that little minx reversed it into a small package that got a quick one count. Atwell once again tried a quick pin by rolling me up but I once again kicked out right away. I tried whipping her into the ropes, but she reversed and hit me with a knee to the gut that flipped me over when I came back. Atwell dropped an elbow right into my chest that stung as she clinched in an arm-lock and wrenched back as I tried to stand up. The pain wasn't that bad as I managed to get back up and we went against the ropes, as I sent her into the ropes across from us. I waited and I waited until the last minute when I pulled the ropes down and she went over the top rope and hit the outside mats hard. I tried to go outside and take the attack to Hayley but that low down shit of a ref ordered me away. I could see Atwell writhing in pain on the outside, so I finally shoved the ref outside and followed Atwell outside.

I'd later find out that she'd hit her head on the apron, knocking her senseless for thirty seconds or so.

I picked her up and almost rolled her into the ring, but I did the "No No" finger taunt to the ref. I got my hands around Atwell's waist and drove her back first into the metal apron. Atwell howled in pain as her fell back onto the mat. I maneuvered her away from the apron again and did the same producing the same howl of pain. The ref was yelling at me to get back into the ring, so I complied for a moment. I went back outside and assisted Atwell up, but didn't bring her back into the ring. I scooped her up into the air and slammed her onto the mat. She howled in pain when and her back arched into the air as I slid into the ring and I sat on the top rope, checking my fictional watch. I could see her slowly getting up and rolling into the ring, as she used the ropes to try and get up, her back to me. I turned her around, but Atwell was quick with an elbow to the head that stunned me. Atwell grabbed me and hit me with a quick snap suplex, that hurt her just as bad as it hurt me. She tried for a pin, but I quickly kicked out before the ref's hand slapped for the two count. I got back up before Atwell did as she was slow to rise, once again using the ropes to help herself up. She once again made the mistake of putting her back to me, as I approached her. I clasped my hands together and hit her with an ax handle to the back. She quickly one back down to one knee, so I brought her back up to a standing position and hit another ax handle to the back that sent her to the ground. I rolled her and went for a cocky pin with my foot on her chest but she kicked out at two. I rolled Atwell over, stuck my knee in her back and locked in a modified camel clutch. I wasn't inflicting that much pain or extorting any effort, it was mostly for me obnoxiously telling the ref to "ASK HER!" numerous times. Atwell reached the ropes but I wanted till damn near five to let go of the hold. I even screamed I have till five at the ref and argued with him as Atwell recovered.

Was I stalling? Yes.

I turned around to a crisp dropkick from Atwell (And a beauty as Monsoon would say) that put me down. I got back up and walked into another dropkick to the face as Atwell was building momentum. I tried to clothesline her but she but ducked under,grabbed my head and dropped me with a stiff neckbreaker, my neck snapping on her shoulder. Atwell went for a pin, but I kicked out at two as Atwell looked miffed. Atwell was eyeing up the top rope as she exited to the apron and began the climb to the top rope. She looked comfortable climbing the first two ropes, but she seemed a bit trepidatious when she went up to the top rope and was steadily balanced. I could see that in her eyes and gave at me that said "Get me out of this", so I looked at the ref and pushed him into the ropes. Atwell lost her balanced and crotched herself on the ropes, letting out a scream of pain. I approached Atwell, got my hand on her chest (Not that way you pervs) and with her on the top rope and threw her off the top rope and she crashed about a good seven or eight feet to the canvas. Atwell hit the canvas hard and rolled around in pain, holding her back. I looked at the ref, looked at Atwell and then stomped on her back a few times to make myself even more of a villain. I undid her ponytail letting those long brunette locks flow free. I always thought that was an underrated heel
move. I kept up the action by picking her up and hitting her with a back suplex, followed by another back suplex, a third back suplex a vertical suplex and finally a belly to bell suplex. Each one caused Atwell to yelp in pain as she the mat hard and I could see that her face was a mask of pain. I picked her up for a suplex, but I was a bit worried about hitting a German Suplex.

"(Whispering) Are you alright?"

"(Whispering) Of course mate. Just putting on a show."

Damn, I got behind her and put my hands around her waist and lifted her high in the air and dropped her with a* German Suplex as the ref intervened before I could do any more damage. I could see Atwell holding her neck in pain. I went over to inflict more damage but the ref got my in face.

"The ref tended to Atwell, asking if she could continue and Atwell gave the nod to continue. I pushed the ref out of the way as Atwell tried using my body to help herself up. I thought about clubbing her in the back or hitting her with a knee, but I decided to embrace heel Jobber. I taunted her to get up, even though I knew she was probably playing it up a bit (Hopefully) and I then planted a big smooch right on her lips. Her eyes widened as she went fully force with a punch to the gut followed by a second punch to the gut that doubled me over. She followed that up with three stiff knife-edge chops as she took off into the ropes, and she ducked a boot and jumped on my back for a piggyback sleeper. She clamped on the pressure as I stumbled around ring, trying to get her off me. I swung her on my back, grabbed the ref and I generally moved like I had a monkey on my back.

"(Whispering) Kiss too much?"

"(Whispering) No, it just shocked the hell out of me."

I finally moved to the center of the ring, kicked my legs out and brought all my weight down on Atwell, pancaking her between myself and the canvas. Atwell was down and out so I hooked her leg for a pin fall and almost had her for the three, but I cockily pulled her shoulder up at the last moment. The ref game a "really" look as I helped Atwell to my feet and mockingly danced with her in the ring before lifting her the in a bear-hug in the center of the ring, her boots off the ground. Atwell groaned and moaned and almost seemed to enthused to be having the life squeezed out of her. I can her eyes rolling into the back of the head and her head bobbing up and down. The ref lifted her arm up in the air, and it flopped onto my shoulder. The ref lifted the arm up for the second time and it flopped down upon my shoulder again. I thought she was out, but Atwell came back with a surge of energy and reversed the bearhug and turned it into a DDT. My head crashed into the mat as Atwell draped her arm over my body, but I kicked out in the nick of time. Atwell helped me to my feet and jumped up in the air for an old-school headscissors takedown that transitioned into an armbar and decided to mock me.

"ASK HIM REF!"

"Very original."

I was able to get my legs into the ropes and Atwell begrudgingly let go. Atwell launched me into the corner and rebounding with a jumping splash followed by a monkey flip that got a two count. I was hurting from her sudden burst of offense and Atwell put me down with a scoop slam near the turnbuckle. She once again climbed to the top rope and came off with a picture perfect splash, right on my stomach as my legs kicked up in the air comically. Atwell once again climbed to the top rope and was perched like a hawk as I slowly got back up. She came off the top rope with a perfect cross-body that brought us both down for a pin. I once again kicked out at two, and walked into a scoop slam. It hurt like hell and walked into another scoop slam and much like an idiot, I walked into a third one and I wormed my out of the hold. I turned Atwell around, hoping for a clothesline but she ducked and I almost ran into the ref. He moved to the side at the last moment, but I pulled him in-front of me at the last moment when Atwell tried to superkick me. Atwell has a shocked look on her face, even more when I stuck her in the gut with a knee. Atwell doubled over as I sent her into the ropes and hit her with the Pop Up Powerbomb. She folded over upon impact as I rolled her over for a pin. I did a mock three count as I walked over to the ref and demanded that he should get up.

So I kicked him a few times and turned my attention to Atwell who was slow to get to up.

"See? This is what happens when you superkick refs!"

I went over and kicked her in the back a few times and I resumed stomping the ref until he finally stirred. I continued to yell at the poor guy and didn't notice Atwell was up and poised to strike. I turned around to a perfect superkick from Atwell that rocked my world. My turned sideways and I stumbled, did a full 360, fell to knees and hit the floor. Atwell put all she had into the hold apparently as fell onto me as the ref made the count.

1


2


3!!!

Holy shit, that was fun. Atwell got back up as the ref raised her hand high in the air, as I slowly got back up. Atwell offered her hand to me and I walked away still playing a dick heel.


Sometimes being a dick can be fun.

[gameking]

I had faced plenty of professional wrestlers and wouldn’t you know it, I’ve had plenty of losses! The concept of besting a professional wrestler in combat is abhorrent. I did wrestle professionally for a few years before this, I took my bumps and learned to respect the business. I left that world for the even more imaginary world of fetish wrestling. I had one fantasy that I wanted to fufill.

Getting smashed by a bigger female opponent.

Bull Nakano.

Reggie Bennett.

Two bigger female opponents who still managed to be incredibly sexy to a weirdo like me. Imagine getting thrashed by Nakano, being beaten with any available plunder, even get choked with nunchucks. Imagine being placed in an inverted scorpion deathlock, your body hoisted above the mat and your body and bent to its maximum limit. Right when your ready to utter a cry of submission she lets go and drags you to the corner. From there you can only dread and do nothing as she climbs to the top rope. The crowd violently calling for your demise like this is the Roman Coliseum. Your body is so weakened and battered that rolling out of the way would require an act of God. You resign to this fate horrendous fate as she jumps off the top rope and drives her leg right on your throat with a guillotine leg drop. Breathing compromised to such a point it’s barely functioning as she mercifully ends with match with a pin.

Bennett bringing her full weight from the top rope, death from above. Her flesh colored stocks glisten against the bright lights from above. Do I have a thing for stockings? Maybe. But they also think I have a foot fetish because every celebrity on earth was told by Lawrence to pose that way. INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY! to your rib cage is more like it. After that? It’s a buffet of tosses and slams, each blow breaking your body down and turning your spinal cord into a fine powder one could season a steak with. You get sent into the corner as she runs full forces and barges you against the corner. Her massive shoulders slice through your core with each brutal bartering ram low. You can do nothing as she easily hoists you up on her shoulders. She parades you
around the ring like a hunter showing off his prized kill. To her, you weigh nothing and it will take nothing to break you in the human torture rack. Your back is back at an utmost painful angle as you can do nothing but scream in pain. Finally you give in a verbally call it quits. If your lucky, she’ll let go.

As you can see, I’m into this. So I found the perfect foil, this time I was venturing into the modeling world. My record is a crisp 0-1 thanks a brutal Kate Upton beating. My opponent would be the voluptuous and curvy Ashley Graham, that of the plus sized world. If I can choose the fort of my large destructor, might as well go top shelf.

I went into the karate getup and came to found out that Ms. Graham was game to dominate me pro-style. I’ve always enjoyed seeing some poor bastard in karate getup getting dominated by a pro wrestler. I might even write a story about it on a mixed wrestling forum with two sequels. She even took some rudimentary wrestling classes so she could toss me around the ring, albeit safely. I didn’t expect but it sure heightened my anticipated slaughter. Word got around and apparently Ana De Armas cautioned her to not completely obliterate me, but just leave just enough of me alive so she could finish me off.

Well, I guess we know the new big bad?

Graham arrived wearing white wrestling boots with tan stockings and a black one-piece swimsuit with her names written on the front in gold cursive. The outfit accentuated everything men drool over:

We had no ref as this was an agreed knockout only match and with me fallen under the knocked out rule, a ref wouldn’t do much. I knew what was coming, a barrage of slams, submissions and core destroying blows. Ashley seemed downright chipper at the prospect of destroying me and might I add that type of enthusiasm makes this a bit fun.

We locked up and I almost nabbed a headlock before she pushed me across the ring. I might have the weight advantage but she certainly has the body advantage. Graham did the fat bad guy bicep pose (The Ode to Earthquake), playing to the imaginary crowd. I approached again and locked back up again. This time there was no headlock attempt as Graham pushed me off with ease. This time she took the middle of the ring and taunted me to come at her. I approached pensively but instead went behind and tried a waist lock. Almost immediately Graham turned around and now I was facing her. I judged the predicament, my hands are wrapped up and I stupidly tried to drag her down.

I was cooked.

BOOM!

Her arms went high in the air and slammed down on my the sides of my neck. This wasn’t a knockout karate chop this was a knockout karate hammer fist. I went down to both knees, the shock of the blows had on my carotid artery and the vagus nerves had me dizzy and near punch drunk. Graham hoisted me up by the dogi and I was pushed into the corner. Much like the Stratus match the ropes were equal parts savior and sinner. Yes it kept me up right and being tossed to the floor was surely result in more damage. It also trapped me and left me open…for more damage. Graham was sizing me up before some *light* forearm shivers to the stomach. Not enough to do some real damage but enough to tenderize my stomach for the forthcoming blows. Graham put one hand on the top rope and the other on the middle and reared back. About five consecutive hip thrusts had me gasping for air and the sweet release of death. Each blow saw Graham take her time, driving the hip into the stomach after landing said blow. Breathing was a luxury and I had about a buck fifty in my pocket. Graham backed up and the visual of The Jobber slumped in the corner barely standing up trying to breathe was a pitiful sight. Graham backed up, charged and barged me in the corner full force, squashing me between her voluptuous body and the corner. Any oxygen left in my body was evaporated.

Graham again grabbed the dogi and sent me tumbling across the ring. I could barely stand as Graham locked me in a full Nelson. Not the sexiest of holds but when she has the strength to lift you off the ground and swing you around it’s quite sexy. I kept telling myself this is what I signed up as she wrenched my arms back and my head forced down at a painful angle. Finally Graham maneuvered me to the ropes and let go, pushing me against them. I bounced back and Graham landed a straight forearm to the middle back. I bowled in pain and went down to my knees. I slumped forward against the middle rope as Graham’s shin went across my neck and began choking me against the ropes. I gagged and tried to fight it off but it was no use. Graham eventually backed off but I was so sapped of energy that I could do nothing but stay there. Graham took off and nailed the old Kevin Nash leaping body guillotine my throat slamming into the steel cable. Graham sat on a bit before getting back up as I crumbled to the mat.

The rope based assault wasn’t over yet even as my throat felt like it had the worst sore throat in the history of sore throat’s. Graham laid me face first under the bottom rope. Both boots went on the bottom rope, her hands grasped on the top rope. My inflamed throat felt like it had just downed a bottle of whiskey mixed with ghost pepper hot sauce now as I could do nothing but feebly kick my legs on the mat. Graham eventually let one hand go but this wasn’t an act of mercy it was to grab my hair and pull my throat into the ropes even more. Finally she relented and dragged my broken carcass to the middle of the ring. I was pulled up into a seated position as she wrapped her thick beautiful legs around my wounded waist. I saw the legs wrap around in a figure four and dreaded the next series. Graham squeezed the life out of my body, never going 100 percent but just enough to establish me place in this match. To be crushed underneath her. I tried to free myself but my core was being crushed like a car in a compactor. Graham even pushed herself off the ground just to ratchet the pressure. I could feel myself going out but a voice whispered that it wasn’t time yet. Graham released the soul sapping scissors leaving in a pile of jobber. I was facing up at the lights trying to get my body to function normally.

In reality, I was stalling.

Finally Graham had enough of my stalling tactics and dropped a vicious elbow on my chest, her elbow smashing into my sternum. All I could was cry out in pain as Graham brought another down, this time targeting my oatmeal like stomach. This time she grinded that elbow into my stomach even pushing down with her free hand. I could do little but groan as Graham took off into the ropes and dropped the Andre the Giant hip drop from No Mercy. The auto knockout if done at the right moment, unfortunately it wasn’t as her hip crashed down into my throat. My legs again comically kicking up and down. Graham was ready for some more submission domination as she pulled me up. I had one hand on the rope to hold me up, from my hair to toe were inflamed. Graham planted a big boot straight into my belly button, but now my jacket had been undone completely. I now looked like a bruised broken fighter in over my head. I went to one knee and almost doubled over but Graham scooped me up and paraded me around the ring before stopping in the middle. I felt my lifeless body go up in the air and coke crashing down across her knee. *CRACK* *CRACK* echoed throughout the room as Graham grabbed my chin and pushed down.

I could do little except scream as the middle of my back was being bent over her knee. Graham eventually used her free arm, realizing a surprise kick out of nowhere was a joke. Graham’s first went high as she battered my stomach with a few punches. The backbreaker is a male wrestler special in those videos, the visual of a female in agony being bent over their knee. The camera getting the money shot of the female’s cleavage. Much like the Armas bearhug, this was a sign that the power dynamic was changing in these matches. Another move that producers love to have males put females in, the Over the Shoulder Backbreaker. Guess what so found myself in? You guessed it, the Over the Shoulder the Backbreaker! Graham paraded around the ring, pulling my annihilated back over her shoulder. My arms and legs were flailing about as I closed my eyes and that’s a true level of pain. Finally Graham went to one corner and took off towards the nearest diagonal corner. I could wince as I knew what was coming. Graham had lowered me just enough so that my battered body was perfectly even the corner. And then she charged

SLAM! My entire body was slammed against the corner and her 194 pound frame. I had been crushed and pulverized into a heap as Graham backed up as I slowly slid down the corner. Graham stalked and dragged me by the wrist over to the middle. I was hoisted up and sent into the ropes Graham pursuing and the moment my back hit the ropes, my chest was almost caved in with a lariato. If it was to the face it would’ve KO’d me immediately. Instead, I found myself seated on the middle rope, only being held up by my hands on the top rope. Graham approached smiling at the total domination she had brought upon me. More blows to my exposed chest, each boot echoing throughout the room. I had no resistance, my insides felt wrecked as she dragged me off and pushed me into the corner. Graham turned her back to me and beg and thrusting her behind into me, Andre the Giant style. Pulling her body forward for maximum force before slamming into my pitiful body. After about six of these, I could barely function and hoped this would soon. My body was in complete agony as Graham showed mercy.

To only be lifted into a bearhug.

Graham’s bearhug left me a quivering mess of a man as she squeezed and I screamed. Fighting back was absolutely futile as my feet left the floor, my body writhing in pain. Graham seemed content to not snap my spine in two and dropped me to the mat. My entire spinal cord was inflamed and three days laying on an electric blanket set to 100 and a king size bottle of Bayer wasn’t going to help. Graham stood above me, surveying her destruction as I saw her take off into the ropes. What could it be? A big splash? A seated senton? Why it just crush my damn ribs ready and puncture my lungs. What happened next was even worse. Having the leg dropped on you is bad, but having a large woman’s hip dropped on you? AGAIN? That’s worse. I barely turned my head in team to persevere my pearly whites. It didn’t matter because Graham’s hip smashed my face when into the mat, it felt like getting hit full force in the face with a bat. It also didn’t help that my ear took the brunt of the damage leaving me dazed, confused and other mid-1990’s Richard Linklater films. I could feel the indent her stockings left on my face, the things you do for this business.

Graham dragged me by the ankle to the corner and took a seat on the top rope. I knew what was coming and I was dreading it. Graham stood on the second rope, arms crossed ready to deliver some death from above. Yet, she spared me. That’s great right?

WRONG.

Yes she spared me from a second rope splash and instead moved up to the top rope, knees bent, hands hugging the ropes. She wasn’t going to stand up like a wrestler but I was having visions of Nakano and Bennet perched atop the top rope. The fans calling for them to reign down the pain, and I could no thing about it. My body was paralyzed in fear as Graham came off the top rope. The splash wasn’t pretty but it didn’t need to be. It need to induce the maximum amount of pain. And guess what? It did. I could feel myself deflating under her might, my feet kicking up in the air. Any oxygen left inside of me crashed and burned upon escape like the Hindenburg. Graham got off me as I curled into a fetal post it ion, clutching my stomach. Graham wasn’t done as few “get over it” boot stomps rained down upon me. Graham rolled me over and I was now facing the dirty mat. Graham again ascended to the top and again brought her 194 pound frame across my back. This resulted in a hellish scream on my end and I was done. My face came off the mat to scream but now I was facedown. I had zero energy left, the will to win was nowhere to be found. I didn’t even have the will to mount the meekest and saddest Saturday morning Jobber offense.

I knew the end was coming and I was paying for the sins of video makers of the past. Those that filmed males racking and hugging beautiful and well endowed women so they could get cleavage shots.

I was the ritual sacrifice, the olive branch to the other sex who was proving their newfound power based domination over men.

I was down to both knees as the dominant diva scooped me up, trapped my arms in the bearhug. I could barely murmur or function as she slowly crushed my ribs between her arms. I was forced up in the air and paraded around the ring, my head resting on her tan shoulders. I knew what was coming next as she boosted me up and dropped her full body weight on me. I was crushed between the hard mat and her 194 pound frame. I was basically a drooling zombie husk of myself but Graham was ready to take this beating home. I had never been so throughly beaten and dominated by an opponent like this. Yeah I took my bearings this was another of strategy and sadism. I was dragged back up my entire body in agony as she prepared to hoist me in the air.

The Human Torture Rack.

This time, the front of my body was facing away from her as I could only stare at the empty wrestling gym. I was oblivious to what was coming as she paraded me around the ring like a prized slab of raw meat. Finally she began to rack me, even grabbing my boots and neck, pulling me toward like she working out on a peck-deck. I could only do nothing but cry out in pain and made no attempt to escape. Finally I let out one last year of pain and I finally passed out, giving up the one sided battle. My body was completely limp, one helluva sell job as Graham marched to the middle of the ring. In one last screw you, she suddenly dropped to her knees leave me with one last jolt of back pain. I rolled off her and hit the mat in a heap finally landing face first. Graham got up and planted her boot on the back of my head in a victory pose.

Amazonian Dominance.

[gameking]

“I want the head of the Hollywood Jobber above my fireplace.”-Mandy Rose

That was the message being sent my way.

Mandy Rose, former WWE superstar, a white girl with Chun-Li thighs, an ass like the North Star and just a killer body. There’s some rumblings that Mandy wanted to jump into well, the seedier side of the wrestling business. The stuff I do, you know…”the underground”. It’s not a first, active pro wrestlers have done those videos while being involved with larger companies. There’s a bit of respect, they also did those weird empty arena customs. Mandy is trying to come in and bulldoze her way in and that had people worried. It’s like when that Bella girl did OF, it could tip the scales into the producers hands. The talent already has a tough hill to climb, we don’t need this fly-by-night carnie asshole throwing boulders at up from the top.

I took this seriously. This wasn’t a pro wrestler wants to iron out the kinks and the old Hollywood Jobber is here to be a sparring dummy. This was going to be a goddamn fight. The rules were simple: Everything was off table, pin or submission in a ring. You folks don’t give a damn about my gear unless I’m fighting a naked Aubrey Plaza and I’m naked, so just lust at this:

Wearing the America themed gear, Rose certainly looked amazing. Probably the best athlete I’ve ever faced next to Cargill, I knew the odds were stacked against me. I also knew she hadn’t wrestled in a while so the plan was to capitalize on that. We were called to the middle of the ring for some instructions as we both stared holes into our respective souls. No words were exchanged as we backed up before the bell metaphorical bell rang. When it did, I darted out and Rose charged looking for the kill with a bicycle knee. I dodged it, turned her around and lit that tanned chest of hers with a series of knife edged chops. I baked her up into the corner and landed two more, the sickening sound of flesh-on-flesh filling the empty room. She was crying out in pain from the blows as the ref came over to break it up. A glancing scowl killed that as I could a bit of shell shock on her eyes. I bent down and rammed my shoulder into her perfectly tanned and toned stomach, then another ram. The sound of air escaping her mouth had me feeling good and the third one had her knees buckling, she was trying to stay upright. I was SAVORING it as I went for a fourth one but  she jumped and hooked me for a sunset flip. This wasn’t  a pin attempt, it was quite simply an escape tactic.

I stayed on her as she got back up as I charged in but I ate a cruel lariat. Her perfectly muscular bicep bounced off my head and then my head bounced off that hard concrete with a mat over it 1990’s WWF ring. I don’t know how Bossman took all those steel cage superplexs, probably getting paid good money and getting the good pain pills probably. The pain was like when your not looking and get hit with a basketball, all you hear is ringing and throbbing head pain. Mandy got on top and started to throw elbows, not the type to slice eyebrows, these were teeth smashers. I blocked them as the ref finally got her off me, telling her to back off. I got back up and Rose was on the attack, this time forcing me against the corner. It was my time to eat those shoulder thrusts and boy mine suck compared to hell. Each one was delivered with precise brutality; right towards the middle while I was just aiming for anywhere. My feet were off the ground and I was wheezing after two of them. The third one had my knees feeling weak and the fourth one took me down, took my air and took my confidence in winning this. Rose pulled me up and began choking me with her white boot, giving me a glimpse of her toned legs, adorned in stockings. Oh right, she’s choking the life out of me and the ref isn’t doing JACK. I was gagging under the pressure as I could see a determined, terminator-esque look on her face. She finally relented but continued her corner assault. Now it was my turn for some chest related punishment as she nailed a series of pinpoint forearms, trying to cave my sternum in. The pain was hot like heartburn but heartburn isn’t trying to have your head above its fireplace. Finally she hooked me arm and effortlessly hip tossed me across the ring. If that was a taste of her strength then I was in trouble. I hit that concrete mat with my entire back taking the brunt. Pain was all over, up, down, left, right as I writhed on the mat. I got back up to only be pushed out of the ring by her.

Rose followed as she forced me up as I found myself in an awful predicament. Back against the apron as Rose grabbed me, pulled me forward and slammed my back against the apron. It is the hardest part of the ring. The upper area took the full brunt as I screamed out in pain. Rose backed up to savor her work, telling me to get back up. I was mercifully rolled into the ring and no pin attempt was made, she had said this was going to be long and drawn out. Mandy picked me up and tried a gut wrench but I blocked it, reversed it and LOCKED IN THE ABDOMINAL STRETCH! Of course I haven’t worked her over enough for the move to have any impact as she easily escaped and I was whipped hard into the corner, the thin padding doing little to ease it. Mandy got on the second rope and began choking me, the ref trying and failing to pull her off me. I managed a counter however, as I got my arms around her legs, took her off the ropes and dropped her with a stun gun. Rose took the brunt of it on her face and throat, stunning her as I went to work. I leveled off some boots to the head and these were hard shots. The ref NOW tried to break it up but I pushed that sumbitch aside as the former NXT champ was on all fours,  covering up. I dropped this little micro knees into her ribs as she yelled out. They weren’t heavy hitters, they’re micro for a reason but it got the job the done. I forced her up and the sight of the frustrated brunette, one hand on her head, other holding her ribs was a welcome sight. I sent her into the ropes, looking for a *VINCE MCMAHON VOICE BACK BODY DROP* but all I got was a boot to the face. My head popped up but it smacked Rose in the chin, sending her into the ropes. I charged and clotheslined her over the ropes, a little lariat payback just not you know…a lariat. She tumbled to the outside in a heap as I stepped onto the apron. I backed up, took off and landed the classic Cactus Jack elbow and realized that Mick Foley was a madman for doing this. My elbow made solid connection with Rose’s chest but my hip took the brunt of the damage. I could see that Rose was in predicament, clutching her chest as I tried to rise.

I shook the pain off and got her uptight and then my brain froze. I could not figure out a move and she took advantage of that. First a stiff elbow to the breadbasket doubled me over. Rose got me up in a bodylock and dropped me back first on the apron, my back bouncing off the hardest part of the ring([SIZE="1"]TM WWE COMMENTARY GUIDE [/SIZE]) and I the ground in serious pain, yelling out as the same area had been rammed before took the damage. Rose got me up and picked me up again for a back suplex and turned her gaze to the ring post. Rose carried me over and just casually tossed me crotch first into the post. I thought taking your girlfriend to Disney for a week was the best birth control but casually getting tossed dick first into a post is a better option. I howled in pain but the gifted goddess wasn’t done as she relived me of my fouls position to only scoop me up for a slam which was more of a taunt. She treating like a barbell as she lifted me up and down like it was nothing. This was just outright humiliation and finally rammed me spine first into the post. Rose then mockingly kicked invisible dirt onto my prime back as the middle section of my back was on fire, like have a million tiny pins being pricked into it. That were dipped in pig urine.

Rose dragged me into the ring, sat me up and began to wrap those muscular legs around my waist. It was a figure four as I desperately tried to break free, but the pain was immense. I couldn’t stand it and tapping out as result possibility. I felt like a paper cup between crashed between a garbage compactor as groans of pain escaped my mouth. This wasn’t the spot I wanted to be, I almost separated her legs but she just broke it and wrapped em back up. I finally got my feet ok the map and  pushed back enough to have her pinned to the mat. She panic and kicked out right away but it was a quick escape from a slow man whose in great pain. My upper body was aching as I got up to one knee and saw Rose back up and charging me, looking for that knee. I dodged it again, just barely. Rose turned around and ate a not-so picture perfect drop kick (I rest my case) to the face  that sent her down. I went for a pin and she predictably kicked out. I knew it wasn’t enough and I looked up at the rope and decided to take a risk. I haven’t climbed the ropes in decades so I had trouble finding my footing. I came up with a double axe handle and I never saw the knee. I didn’t have my arms closed up and my was face was an easy target for Kiss the Rose, her big flying knee finisher. My technique was sloppy and I sure as hell paid for it when that knee came crashing into my jaw.

I was down and using my tongue to feel around to make sure no teeth were hanging on by a thread. My face felt like it had taken a full on shotgun blast. Rose covered me and I just barely got my foot on the ropes, her angry protests filled the room. Mandy tried to force me up, but I turned into dead weight as a survival tactic. I did it enough to frustrate her as I slowly made my up, using the ropes for assistance. Rose charged, but I pulled the ropes down, hoping to send her over. It failed, she saw the desperation tactic coming from a mile away. She stopped and delivered three quick boots to the head, turning my head pain from subsiding to throbbing. Rose dragged me to the center of the room and hooked me for a suplex. I was hoisted up in a show of strength as Rose hit a massively delayed vertical suplex sending my body crashing into the canvas, pain all over my back. Rose did it again, letting the blood rush to my head and finally a third one. I blocked it and hit a swift knee and then I hooked her for a suplex. I lifted her off the ground and dropped her with a Brainbuster of in [SIZE="5"]BRAINBUSTAH [/SIZE] if this was taking place in Japan. Rose was down in pain as I barely got my arm on her shaving chest, hoping this last ditch move was the end.

She kicked out at two.

I had no clue what to throw at her, I was just exhausted. I got her back up but she met me with a stiff chest forearm that had me going backwards as she charged for the knee. It almost connected but at the last minute, I countered and dropped her with a folding Tenryu-style powerbomb that shook the ring (It didn’t). 1-2-NOT ENOUGH DAMMNIT and I barely avoided a Mandy Rose triangle choke attempt. My entire body was aching and I knew that I just threw my best weapons at her and I was goddamn frustrated. We were both drained, using each other to get back up. I saw her head was in primo-position and snatched her in a front face and DROVE HER HEAD INTO THE GROUND WITH A DDT. Her head bounced off the mat and she was face first as I rolled her over and went for the pin.

1

2

2.76

ROSE GETS THE SHOULDER UP.

I yelled out as I got her back up but she came to and connected with a gut punch. It was low enough that it looked like a low blow to the naked eye, but I digress. Rose grabbed a body lock, hooked me hand and tried to land a ripcord lariat. I ducked (barely) and grabbed her waist, trying for an O’Connor Roll but she held onto the ropes. Rose turned around and felt a charging Jobber damn near cave in her core with a knee. She was on her knees trying to find the Will to continue when I bent her over and placed her between my legs. What would it be? Another powerbomb? Yep. Well I tired but she was dead weighting me the whole time. I almost got her off the the ground but we crashed down to the mats. I still had a grip around her waist as I relentlessly clubbed the back of Rose. It was even a struggled to get her back up as she thrashed around and kept on sandbagging me. I got her back up and I could see her trying to slither the thick legs around my neck. I finally said fuck it and abandoned it and straight up dropped her on that stack of dimes she calls a neck with a piledriver. The former NXT champion looked to be on dream street, with her ass sticking up. I rolled her over and dapped my arm across her in the air. Please let this be it.

1

2

2.99

ROSE GETS THE SHOULDER UP.

GODFUCKINGDAMNNIT

Rose was barely cognitive after the driver but finally arose from her fog. We met in the center of the ring and started slugging it out, first I opened up the Hollywood Jobber Chophouse with some more knife edges, she countered with forearms to the face. It was the classic frat boy mentality, we hit each other until one goes down. We both finally grabbed a hand and went ham throwing forearms, no give, most certainly all take. Just total absorption until…

*CRACK* *CRUNCH*

My nose broke and I could see blood began to trickle out as all the adrenaline left my body. One final blow landed and I found myself slumped onto Rose as she backed up and I fell to the ground. It was over and Rose knew it as she pulled me up and took off and absolutely ANNIHILATED me with a spear. If this was Mandy’s First Spear she scored extra credit at that blow absolutely cut me core to pieces, it felt like if Superman just decide to fly right through somebody, cutting them in half I was holding my ribs in the fetal position as she pinned me. I just barely got the shoulder up before the ref counted three. Mandy let out a scream of anger at my attempt of survival.


What the hell was I thinking?

She grabbed my hair and forced me to look up at her, a devilish smile on her face. She waved night night and I told her to make it good as I hocked at loogie at her feet and extended the middle finger. She took off into the ropes bouncing back and forth to build anticipation. I could see the blood trickling down my nose and hitting my mouth, that hideous metallic taste. It was even hitting my white t-shirt. Then her knee smashed my head in her finisher, Kiss the Rose. The impact was immediate as I fell backwards barely cognitive. I wasn’t out and my body had number itself to the pain all over. I was frozen still as Rose took a seat on my chest looking down as she flexed the double biceps, grin wide as possible. I could only stare up at me, seething as the ref counted the very predictable 1-2-3. Rose placed her boot on my face, a post match humiliation as I could blood on the sole of her white boots, with another pose. I had thrown everything at her and it was simply not enough. I hated myself on the inside but I also felt like I had gave her far more of a fight than expected.

And she sure as shit didn’t take my head for her fireplace..

[gameking]

Miley Cyrus.

Miley made a challenge for a special rules match. A Three Falls Fight. No matter the score, 1-1 or 2-0, that third fall is happening. You're either winning the whole thing with a clean sweep slash on points or you're fighting for pride and preventing being swept. Admirable and I have to admit that I was doing 2-0, I'd be giving every ounce of energy to prevent a clean sweep. That's true domination right there to defeat somebody three straight times in the span of a match. Cyrus was an intriguing opponent in that I rarely faced musicians and you have to be in shape if you want to be elite. Look at Iggy Pop, that dude is just lean and mean. If I can look like Iggy at 50 and not like Chris Jericho, that would be nice. Won't happen. Miley seemed to be in phenomenal shape by all accounts, so this was going to be a challenge.

We didn't do this at her house but considering she's the type of rich that she can just buy a house and not have any inhabitants, that's where we agreed to fight. God that sounds weird. Is compete better? No, not really. Oh well, I got that nasal swab that everybody is getting and headed over. The house was nice and I met a handler I guess, who showed me around this house that maybe I could afford if I sold both kidneys. It was barren, obviously, nobody had been in there for a few years. Our "combat area" as she called it was the den and yep, they didn't think about having mats. No blankets around so it was this hardwood floor and I was happy that I decided against wearing flip-flops. The socks wouldn't be much but at least I wouldn't be sliding around the room. I headed upstairs, changed, and heard the door open with some whispering, then somebody coming up the stairs. I didn't bother to be a nosy neighbor, I was trying to loosen up. Finally, I got the knock and headed downstairs to the den. A couple of minutes later, I could hear Cyrus coming down the stairs as I mentally prepared myself. First, match back and I was nervous, hate to say it. Cyrus entered the room wearing something I would wear: A black t-shirt that said "YOU SUCK" in white lettering, socks, and a pair of high-waisted blue athletic shorts. You know, the ones from the 1970s that were suddenly en vogue these days. The shorts did off a killer lower body and it was obvious that she took working out quite seriously.

"What, you didn't expect for me to fight in a bikini or some crap?" Cyrus asked sarcastically as I shook her hand.


"Hey, you fight in what's comfortable for you. Hayley Atwell once expected me to fight in a pair of American flag skivvies. That did not happen," I responded.

A little bit of me was hoping for the FTW cheerleader outfit, but oh well.

"I know you've been gone for a while, but I'm not going easy on you. You better not go easy on me either," Cyrus said.

"Hell no, bring it Hannah Montana!" I said and that got an eye roll and a chuckle as we faced off.

The pleasantries were over.

Time to fight.

Round One

Cyrus came out first, aggressively throwing a punch that I ducked. I got behind and tried to lock in a rear-naked choke, going for the kill quite early but she slipped out. I threw a kick because she was coming close and that backed off her off; I wasn't throwing it with intent. Cyrus was the aggressor, darting towards me and trying to tackle me to the ground. I stopped it and got my hands wrapped around her stomach and lifted her off the ground. I could hear a "WTF" but I wasn't planning on doing anything, just an attempt to ward her off. I lowered her back down and she automatically broke off and now I came forward. I lunged and she side-stepped as she dug a kick into my kidney. I felt a sharp pain as Cyrus had struck first blood and turned around, holding my side to Cyrus going in for the kill. It was another kick, but I caught it. Cyrus launched a slap, and I tried to reach into the playbook for a dragon screw leg whip. Well, it's been a while since I tried that and Cyrus blocked it and she had me mounted. Cyrus tried to go for an armbar but I locked my hands, steadfast in my refusal to give it up. Cyrus, however, played it smart and lifted one leg up, and started driving it into my chest. Cyrus was giving my chest a solid clobbering and my grip was fading. I broke it and even before she could extend I had blocked the leg and forced her off the hold. I slipped out and got back up, and Cyrus tried to dive at my legs from off her knees. Well, Miley, I played a lot of No Mercy in my teen years and I saw this coming. You left your back open, and I jumped onto it, ruffling her short hair. I had little planned, I wanted to rile her up, and I accomplished that as she threw a wild elbow. I grabbed and locked in an armbar of my own, with enough pressure to make her wince. I didn't want to exert too much energy in the early going, remember this is my first match back and I have three falls to wrestle in. Cyrus was fast though, and she was back up on her feet in no time. But I still had it on. I transitioned to a hammerlock, but Cyrus saw it coming and landed a wicked elbow, right on the chin. I didn't see it, didn't expect it and I left myself totally wide open for this. It was a big mistake, and I was reeling as I stumbled backward, going into defensive mode. However, Cyrus was more calculated than before and lined me up before driving a killer knee into my stomach, doubling me over, and now I was panicking. I was trying to catch my breath as Cyrus hooked my arm and landed a straight punch to the collarbone. Nothing broke, but it stung like hell as Cyrus then went into the Lawrence playbook and busted out the dreaded neck chop. The hold isn't as devastating as some make it out to be and you have to a real deal martial artists to make it effective. However, if you hit the neck hard enough, it can damage your opponent. It did as I was getting groggy as Miley let go of my arm. My vision was blurry and all I can see was her silhouette aiming for my stomach with a kick. I sidestepped and I hate to admit this, I threw a lariat with all my might. My vision at the moment was about as good as Stan Hansen's. Might as well throw the lariat he perfected.

It connected.

Cyrus hit the ground and I could hear her groaning as she held her face and it was now or never. I forced her up and grabbed the leg with little resistance and I hit a dragon screw leg whip. I could see Cyrus's knee being wrenched, and that elicited a cry of pain as she held it. I grabbed it and she tried to push away as lifted the leg and kicked the back of the leg a few times, eliciting more cries. I held and stared at Cyrus whose face was a mixture of pain and anger as I twisted the leg around mine and I could see the panic in her face. I could try a figure four, but that was early. With her leg wrapped around mine, I dropped all my weight, again wrenching that knee. More cries, but Cyrus was fighting back as she grabbed my hair and hit me with the ulna side of her forearm. It was enough to get me off her knee as she kept throwing it, eventually throwing all her weight against my body and forcing me onto my stomach. Cyrus was on my back and she was in wild mode, throwing punches at my back and head as I did my best to cover up. My hand was close to the knee I had attacked, and I clawed at it. Cyrus cried in pain as the grip was pretty tight, giving me enough time to buck her off. I was feeling winded as I tried to lock in a basic front-face lock. I'll use rest holds if I have to, I'm enough of a coward to admit that. Cyrus however had no time and went dirty with a low blow. In my old age, I forgot to grab a cup, and the pain in my genitals was searing. I let go and went down to my knees as Cyrus got back up. I was holding my tender area, so I was open for an attack. First, I could see Cyrus's leg rearing back as she delivered an accurate knee to my chest, knocking the air out of me. My sternum was on fire as Cyrus placed her forearm on my right cheek. Cyrus was calling her shot as she launched a brutal forearm that had me reeling. The right side of my jaw was on fire and I nearly went down, but I steadied myself with my hand. Cyrus again taunted with the left cheek but I threw a forearm straight into the injured knee.

Cyrus was still standing, but she bent to the side, holding her knee as I got back up. I was groggy and my brain had some fog in it, so I wasn't able to capitalize and Cyrus knew that. Cyrus jumped on my back and tried a piggyback sleeper, new to her but that this was an old tactic to me. I was doing my best to relieve the pressure, and I knew she was scrambling to lock it in as I started walking towards the nearest wall. When in doubt, ram your opponent into the wall, it's just that simple folks? Cyrus smartened up as we came close and tried to block it, putting her feet against the wall, but remember she can't put much weight on it. The attempt failed and while I deciding against making Miley into the cream part of the Oreo; I wasn't leaving this without my pound of flesh. I went into the pro-wrestling playbook again, scooped her up, and dropped her across my knee is a brutal backbreaker. The look on her face was downright excruciating, as was the scream that almost brought the handler into the room. I hit the floor, monitoring Cyrus. This was the first fall and we already beat the ever-living shit out of each other. Two more falls? If I got this first fall, that would boost my confidence and inspire me to go for the clean sweep. Cyrus was on her stomach and I wasn't willing to give her any type of rest. Cyrus was on all fours trying to get up, and I could see that she was feeling the effect of the first round. I was aggressive, and I walked over to her, standing right above her. I slammed a forearm into her shoulder blades before wrapping her arms up for a Full Nelson and forced Miley back onto her stomach.

Full Nelson Camel Clutch.

Incredibly painful and no real escape, I pulled Cyrus up and began bending her back. The cries of pain filled the room and I could see that she was in terrible shape. I had the fingers locked in and I was damn near content with bending her backward if I had to.

"I GIVE, I GIVE, I GIVE!" Cyrus screamed at the top of her lungs as I automatically let go of the hold. I'm not like that as I helped her up, and I could see that we were both looking worse for wear. Her handler brought in a pair of stools and some water bottles for the both of us as we took a two-minute break. I was looking to go up 2-0 but knew I had to fight smart. Being overly aggressive and she could catch me, if I was conservative, that could cause Miley to get back into this. Miley had fought two other male wrestlers and had made mincemeat out of them. Good wrestlers too, but I was giving her the toughest fight she had.

"You know, I fought two guys who were in your field and I beat them with ease. This has been a fight," Cyrus said as she finished her water. "I didn't underestimate you, hope you didn't underestimate me either," She said,

"It's not every match that I have to bust out a lariat and a backbreaker," I said as I got off my stool. The handler came in and took our stools, and the moment she left, the fight was back on.

Ronund Two, Cyrus is down 1-0

Cyrus was fighting smart, leading off with her good leg as I came out of my corner with an ankle pick. Cyrus side-stepped it and tried to kick me, but backed off when she realized I had a clear shot at her bad leg. I was up and Cyrus grabbed a headlock at a pace that was radically different from the first round. The tanks weren't on empty, but the first round was fierce at an all-out sprint. This was shaping up to be a marathon. Cyrus wasn't paying attention, so I tripped her to the floor and got ahold of the bad leg. I could see the total panic in her eyes as I went for the kill. Figure four leg lock and I wasn't letting go until I heard the meniscus pop. However, I made the cardinal sin of being a bit too slow on the windup and Cyrus kicked me in the ass, breaking the hold and making me look like a stumbling fool. Cyrus was back up and limping a bit as she sent another kick into the same kidney she attacked earlier. The pain was dull as she connected with a basic 1-2 combination. A jab and a solid cross put me on my ass. Cyrus jumped at the opening and we finally saw our first scissors of the night. It was a solid figure four-head scissors that sent me scrambling, but I knew Cyrus had made a mistake. I think she knew too, as the bad knee meant she couldn't lock the hold in. Still, she had damn good scissors that me gasping for breath before I broke free. Grabbing the leg, I could get on top of Cyrus and went for a most unusual move. I wrapped my legs around the bad knee and just began squeezing. I don't know what they call the hold, but I'd classify it as pain hold as Cyrus was clearly squirming, trying to get out. Cyrus began using stiff palm strikes to the side of my head, enough to rattle me and eventually force me into breaking the hold.

Cyrus slid out and took my back and placed her shin on my neck and putting her weight on it. Cyrus might not pull off the scissors, but this hurt like hell as she grabbed my farthest arm and started pulling up. The technique was excellent as Cyrus kept me low to the ground, preventing me from slipping out. I finally got a good grip around her ankle and pulled it out, barely giving me enough room to escape. Cyrus was back up and I could see frustration over my escape. This time I tried to throw a punch, but Cyrus ducked it and got behind me. I figured another sleeper attempt, but she dragged me down to the ground as she kept the waist lock on. I think Miley was holding on to frustrate me, but I was content to wait this out. Because of the knee, she really couldn't do much and once we ended up seated, I was quick to grab the leg and start wrenching it. I could see her gritting through the pain and she was fighting back, throwing clubbing blows at my chest, but I was gritting through it. Finally, Cyrus got the choke on and pulled me back, which can make somebody vomit if you do it fast enough. Luckily, I had a light lunch, and no vomiting occurred. Pretty good because if that gets between the floorboards, good luck. I again attacked the knee, grinding my elbow into the side, eliciting a "FUCK" from Cyrus. I knew the pain was bad, and it was enough to force a break. I wasn't playing as I got back up and offered my hand to her in a rare moment of fair play.

And you know what she did?

Nothing!

No attack, which shocked the hell out of me. The knee was really affecting her as she came forward. I almost felt bad, but I knew she was fighting for that first fall, and I'd do the same if the roles were reversed. Cyrus launched a knife-edge chop that contacted my chest. The same area she had brutalized in the first fall. It definitely found its target, but I responded with one back. Cyrus winced but fought through it as I called out another one and she delivered a stinging response. This one really hurt, but I decided against selling. Cyrus returned the favor, calling for me to swing once more. I did, and this one had her reeling, yet I worried about her playing possum. I didn't charge in and I felt like she was disappointed as she darted towards me, albeit with a bit of wince because of the knee damage. Cyrus connected with a stiff knee, doubling me over as she pulled a Hockey move and pulled my shirt over my face. She was throwing punches and while some were finding their target, most were hitting air. However, one connected with my chin and it rocked me. Cyrus backed up, and I got my shirt back on to only have Miley dig another kick into the kidney she attacked before. The pain was no longer dull as Cyrus grabbed ahold of my shoulders, jumped up, and flipped me to the hard floor with a monkey flip. I didn't know she had it in her, and while she had excellent form; I was more worried about my back. Much like the backbreaker to Cyrus, I could see this was a desperate move, but Cyrus was right on-top, going old school UFC with a forearm choke. Cyrus was putting everything into it, and I gagged for air and realized that she had a grapevine around the legs. Cyrus wasn't spreading her legs, but it was to hold me in place. I finally tapped out, giving Cyrus the second fall.

Damn, I wanted that clean sweep.

Ronund Three, Both competitors are tied at 1-1

However, there was no rest for the weary, and remember that Cyrus was the one pulling the strings. She got up and demanded that I get back up for the third fall. I'll be honest, I was on the verge of passing out in that hold and Cyrus knew that as she rolled me onto my stomach and propped my body onto all fours, and hooked my arm back. This is the sidewinder, a painful Ring of Saturn variant you can't escape. Cyrus knew that as she wrenched back on the arm and I began worrying about my shoulder popping out. I was screaming in pain as Cyrus asked me if I was ready to tap. I was responding with a resounding "NO" as Cyrus let go of the hold after a few more wrenches. Cyrus was in thorough control as she dragged me off the floor and I tried to push her away. It didn't work as she launched a quick jab that I barely avoided but stumbling onto my ass. This was bad as Cyrus took pity on my poor ass and taunted me to get back up. I got back up and motioned for Cyrus to bring it, which she did. With a stiff stomach kick that put me down and this time, there was no mercy. Miley jumped on-top, achieved the full mount with little resistance, and went for.... a pubis choke?

Now, this has never happened in one of my fights, and being choked out this way while sounding hot could be quite humiliating. Cyrus knew that and while she was putting the pressure on, she was making a mistake. Cyrus was celebrating a bit too early and was mistakingly relieving the pressure on my throat. A couple of bicep poses, the tongue coming out, and I had the opening I needed as I threw my legs up and forced her off. It was a sunset flip almost, just without the jumping. I had Cyrus flat on her back and I grabbed ahold of the injured leg and went for the figure four leg lock. I didn't do the little dance or the "WOOO" I just locked the hold in right away. I could see the panic on Cyrus's face slowly fade into one of anguish as I applied pressure. The aim was the same the first time, I'm not letting go until she taps and if she wants to be tough, I'll keep it on the meniscus pops. Cyrus was desperately trying to fight her way out as the pain was becoming unbearable. She didn't know the old trick of forcing me onto my stomach, and I was lucky as she gave in to the pain and tapped out.

Like the gentleman I was, I let go and went to check on Miley, who gladly accepted my offer to help her up. I knew she was hurting and luckily, there was nothing torn. I gave Miley one helluva fight, and she gave one back.

[gameking]

Well, I’m on enough drugs to orbit Saturn right now after the Rose match. Yes, it was a work but my god did we beat the hell out of each other. My nose was not broken and the blood that came dripping out was a capsule because IT’S A WORK! Mandy was nice enough to put me in a nice suite as a make good for that. And launching me crotch first into the post. And for nearly cutting me in half like a botched saw trick with that spear. She was also nice enough to make sure nobody knew the location so I wouldn’t get Knightfalled for like the third time. What does Knightfalled mean? Well it’s when you let an opponent weaken themselves to such a point that they’re easy prey. So for now, enjoy what was my weird painkiller induced dream/hallucination/an excuse to write a story about 1990’s Lucy Lawless and Gillian Anderson beating the shit out of me.

Old Jobber (Or young) you certainly got yourself into a pickle with this. A two-on-one handicap match against Lucy Lawless and Gillian Anderson, the two primo sci-go queens of the 1990s. What is your record in handicap matches again? You never won one you buffoon. Every handicap match you’ve been in has been a complete bell-to-bell disaster.

I tried to advert my gaze as Lawless and Anderson warmed up. Lawless was wearing a black sports bra and black spandex workout pants, her Xena physique on fully display. Anderson was sporting a dark swimmers one piece with yellow stripes going down the side. I figured she was going to do the dirty work while Anderson would pick the bones dry. The idea of having tags was a bigger joke than Kevin Sorbo’s career post Hercules (HEY-O). I was hoping for some of decorum and civility but that’s like expecting the Government to hand out tax returns on time. My plan was to take the blows, get in what I can and hopefully force mistakes. Sow the seeds of dissection and they’d go at it, take each other out and even the odds. The two of them approached with a certain gleam in their eyes. I’m guessing they viewed as every annoying fanboy who ran their shows down.

This why my optimism was dead on arrival.

I found myself backed up against the wall. This was not going to end well, isn’t it? Both of their fists went flying into my navel decimating the air inside. One punch of thrown right can cause a person to throw up, two at the same time? Thank god I had a light lunch. I went down to both knees, dry heaving as Anderson grabbed me by the hair and I found myself back up. Anderson hooked my arms and held me there as the ferocious Lawless eyes my stomach up. Another blow to the stomach had me reeling and howling cries of pain. That was a punch, the next was a side kick as she dug her foot in. Lawless was pushing my organs in before backing up. My legs were wobbly as I thrashed back and forth to escape. I found myself slowly freeing my arms. As she went to throw the killing blow, I freed myself and a shocked Anderson ate a big knee. She stumbled backwards as the shock of the blow had her in a haze. I got behind her and used her a pseudo battering ram that knocked Lawless off her feet momentarily. I grabbed the shocked Anderson in a sleeper, crushing her windpipe, trying to force a tap or even a knockout. Anderson responded with a switched kick to the crotch. Even with a cup protection, it still felt like being hit with a bat. I went down immediately as a clearly perturbed Anderson kicked at my ribs.

The both grabbed and ankle and turned me into the human equivalent of a turkey wishbone that gets ripped in half on thanksgiving. I feared the plan was to immobilize my legs to such a point that I could barely move and just be a human submission dummy. Worst case scenario is that I die, best case scenario maybe Lawless breaks my neck with those legs of her. Which I felt and holy crap I regret that last sentence.

Lawless trapped me in a reverse head scissors, but not around the throat, but my jaw. It’s an old submission wrestling trick, a pain move that isn’t meant to force a knockout. It’s being done to just inflict as much pain as heavily possible. The ever confident and cocky Lawless even knocked out a quick set of push-ups with Anderson counting. The last one was slow but with maximum pressure around my jaw. She finally finished when I mercifully tapped the mat and she tagged Anderson in. The dastardly duo stood across from each other, synchronizing as they grabbed my arms and legs. Lifted off the ground and staring at the mat, I could do nothing but scream in pain as they tried to rip off my limbs. I resisted but finally yelled a tap out as they dropped me face first on the mat. I could only stay there and writhe as Anderson rolled me over and continued to torture. Ensuring her legs around mine, pinning my hands to the ground, I was powerless in the face of a powerful grapevine. I refuse to scream in a grapevine as the move always represented dull attempts to be realistic in our phony baloney industry. Anderson stretched my legs to its absolute breaking point before finally letting go, disappointed that I didn’t deliver the satisfaction of screaming. I ate a straight stomp to the gut for my troubles, forcing me into the fetal position. Lawless came in as they tried a double half crab and you know it was an awkward mess. Did it hurt? Hell yeah and I think they realized the root of their error as Lawless dropped my leg. I rallied and my hands were upright. Lawless took care of that by flattering me with a good old butt drop.

Lawless sat on my back and hooked my arms in for a Full Nelson. Dread, fear and anxiety washed over me as I knew a Full Nelson camel clutch was a death sentence. Lucy pulled backwards as I screamed out in pain, the Clutch/Crab combo is a brutal way to go it. I found myself off the ground in her powerful combo. I couldn’t take much as I had no way to submit other than verbally and the situation got worse but somehow better. Anderson let go of the crab but she was now pulling back on her arms, increasing the pain. I yelled out submission after the submission as the two stretched me to an absolute breaking point. They finally conceded and I fell to the mat, motionless. Lawless scooped me up and into a punishing bearhug as Anderson watched. I tried to break free but the more I resisted, the harder she squeezed. Lawless let go and pushed me over to Anderson who scooped me up in one of her own. Anderson’s bearhug was more tactical, she was looking for the right spot to squeeze. If I wasn’t out of it, I’d find a way to escape. Of course I’d probably walk into a Lawless bearhug. A floating feeling was surging through my body, makes sense since they were alternating cutting my oxygen off. Anderson let go and Wallace took her last turn, a violent series of squeezes that took me out rather fast. My body melted into her Amazonian body as she dropped my corpse to the mat. They gave little kicks to see if I alive as Gillian sat on my back, hooked my arms with her legs for a brutal Lotus Lock. I began screaming as Lucy must’ve decided that this looked fun and began stretching my legs out. I was becoming a human Stretch Armstrong as they made my limbs feel totally useless for thirty agonizing seconds. They felt like they’d been doused in gasoline and lit on fire. When they finally let got of my limbs, they felt totally useless.

It was now time for the grand finale.

Lawless picked me up like it was nothing and dropped my back across her knee. I screamed out as she began stretching me over her knee. They both took turns smashing my stomach in with punches putting up little resistance. Anderson even grabbed the dreaded stomach claw twisting the nerves in my abdomen. That hurt like hell and I felt lucky to not vomit on the mat. Lawless took her hands off my chin but it was opening for Anderson. The redhead locked in a Dragon Sleeper, tightening her grip around my throat. After having my back stretched to a breaking point and the inescapable choke, I finally blacked out from the hold. The two let go and slid my pitiful body over Lucy’s knees, content to place their feet on my stomach, content with the beatdown.

End Hallucinatory Episode.


It was around 1:30 AM when I came out of my haze thanks to a hand pounding on my door. The voice called out “Wellness check” which made no sense, which should’ve been the first red flag. The second red flag was the sultry Spanish accent that came through the door. I got up, flicked the lights on and stumbled the door. To my horror, I found ANA DE ARMAS standing in front of me, my comeback opponent who absolutely destroyed me in moments.

I stood there, frozen like a deer in the headlights. With no hesitation, a punch drilled my stomach as I feel to the ground. I was in no condition to fight Armas stood over me, cracking her knuckles, looking primed and ready to destroy me again.

I was getting Knightfalled. I only blame myself and myself only.

This is going to be a long night.

[gameking]

Armas was wearing the same white tank top I remember staring at while she mercilessly throttled me in our first encounter. I saw a pair of denim jeans and the tips of a pair of brown leather cowboy boots. I hate wrestling girls in jeans, the denim always rubs wrong against my face, my cheeks had a certain redness to them at the end of the day. I looked more like than a blushing schoolboy than a mean fighting machine. Armas fist had just penetrated my stomach wall and after a hard battle and a hearty room service meal, I worried about upchucking my meal. Another fist sliced through my stomach that Rose had damn near impaled with that nasty spear, I was using the dresser to hold myself up. The Cuban beauty noticed and smashed her fist on that hand, eliciting a scream. The people on either side thought this weirdo was having a night of rough sex, so I expected odd looks in the morning for breakfast. Now I was barely upright as I expected another blow but she instead throw some mocking blows with a chuckle. This is what she thought of me. I was just a plaything and I was tired of it. Armas lifted her cowboy boot to my chin, signaling a big headkick was coming my way. Ana backed up with a smug grin and threw with all her might but I smacked that leg down. I could see a mild flash of panic in her eyes as I threw a big, well I was aiming for a neck chop but it was more of a neck club. The clubbing blow connecting the left side of her vagus nerve as she let out a weird grunt and her knees went weak. Neck chops don't result in automatic knockouts unless you have years or experience or you just happen to make people getting knocked out with neck chops the main form of knockout in your series.

Armas wasn't on dream street but she was close as I grabbed hair and jean and threw her onto the bed. Off went the boots (I'm not a feet weirdo you weirdos) as I could see her grasping for straws. I stood above her put my elbow up and dropped a pinpoint blow in the middle. I could hear a gasp of air followed by moans of pain. I lifted that tank top up exposing her perfectly tanned stomach and launched another blow, these blows with being thrown with intentions of blunt force trauma. The window was limited considering my condition and my questionable consumption of pharmaceuticals. Armas went into the cliched fetal position as I continued the relentless assaults. That brutal knee that sealed my fate in the first match, the sign that this go-around wasn't be as easy as it used to be (It was never easy) looped through my mind. I heaved her up, redid the mock grapple stance and I could see the FEAR in her eyes. That smarmy toothy grin when she stood above me had been wiped off her face as I launched a knee that smashed into her belly button. Armas let out a "UGHWHW" as she slowly fell to her knees, I could see the pain in her eyes but I DID NOT CARE. Not one bit as I went to wrap her arms around that pretty throat of hers. The Japanese Strangle Hold was going to be applied but she thrashed her arms repeatedly and barely slipped out and crawled away. I stalked her like Michael Myers honing in on a panic teenager as crawled to the end of the bed. I hope I'm like Curse of Kills Michael who was super overpowered but I'm more in line with remake Michael since he was played by a wrestler I guess. I lunged and Armas used that to slip behind and ram me into the wall. My head bounced off and lemme tell you, it wasn't a thin walk like those roach motels, the thwunk echoed through the room. I stumbled into a sloppy judo throw that you should never try on a tempur-pedic or whatever mattress brand this is. I almost ended up on-top of her but landed more on my head and neck than back. I groaned as Ana rolled me over and took a seat on my chest, wrapping those legs around my neck for a seated scissors.

Armas wanted to stare into my eyes and see the lights go out as she squeezed away. The feeling of denim rubbing my skin is a feeling I despise as her body weight kept me from bridging out. I tried prying her legs off but I could see the fury in her eyes, she wanted this to be the killing blow. I could feel the squeeze on both sides and began to feel a bit too good, like I was floating on air. Just you know, while a girl tries to choke you out with her legs. I began punching at her knees and thighs hoping that sheer brute force was my ticket. Armas no sold the repeated blows but I began throwing them like I was a primate pounding a rival. Eventually the no selling made way for grunts as she finally loosened up as I slipped out, wheezing. Armas rolled off the bed with a questionable limp as I got a good look at the red marks on her knees and thighs. I followed and we both went for takedowns falling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs and hair. We were both throwing blows neither of them connecting as we rolled around like two catfighters, slapping and pulling hair. I got on top and dragged her up by her brown hair and went for the old hockey pullover. Before I could get in a punch, much less a peak at her brazier, the cowboy (or girl) boot came flying in and bounced off my temple. I staggered around much like how Ana was earlier. I could barely see as Ana was up and slammed the heavy bottom of that boot into my stomach like a slasher ramming an axe into a teenagers gut. I was breathing heavily and on one knee as Ana put her hand into the boot, propped me up with her free hand and slammed her boot wrapped fist into my stomach. I howled in pain as she mockingly pushed me to the ground. I could see the boot going back on as Ana with a devilish grin lifted her boot up and slammed into my chest about three times. I don't know if she want looking to break a bone or just being a cruel bitch, but the blows sent my chest aflame. She finally placed the boot on my throat, hands on the dresser to proper herself up and hand her some needed leverage. My legs kicked up and down as she tried to crush my windpipe as I desperately tried to rip that boot off. My throat was hoarse and I began to feel that feeling of passing out. Ana looked content and finally put her foot on the brakes. I was cough as Ana hauled me up and wrapped her arms around my throat for the dreaded sleeperhold. It wouldn't take much effort to put me out yet to she wanted to savor it, she didn't apply all the pressure that was needed. Ana's back was against the bed as I tried to fight my way out and then I remembered what happened in the Rose match. Sometimes you have to reach deep in the bag of tricks to try and get that win. If the BRAINBUSTAH doesn't work, you go for a DDT. If that doesn't you powerbomb a motherfucker. And when you try that and she tries to fight it YOU DROP HER ON THAT DAMN NECK OF HERS WITH A PILEDRIVER. GO FOR THE KILL.

I was barely upright and found a way to get my arm between between legs and got the other one around her head. I was already going to my knees as I squatted her up in a show of strength that I never knew I had. Call it adrenaline, call it an act of desperation as I had her up in the air. Ana screamed out as I DROPPED HER ON THE GODDAMN MATRESS WITH THE BURNING GODDMAN HAMMER. I apologize to Kenta Kobashi, the inventor of the move and a man who only used it a few times to win as this piss poor American went to that move. At least there wasn't going to be a kick out like most of the shithead American wrestlers that use it as a glorified spot to pop the crowd. Arma's head made solid contact with the mattress and I did my best to protect her. I don't want to be known as the Chris Benoit (Or Kevin Sullivan) of the Hollywood Jobber lineage. Ana was splayed out on the mattress, barely cognitive but that tough Cuban girl wasn't staying down. I could see her trying to get back up and I jumped on top of her, flatting her. I trapped a leg and locked her in a bulldog choke, the old Moxley special pulling her up, inflicting damage on her back. I began pulling her backwards in this weird flattened choke/clutch/leg trap as she frantically tapped out against my forearm. I got off of her and placed my foot on the small of her back, flexing my biceps that albeit have little definition. I rolled her over and stuck my foot in her stomach, pushing in a bit to elicit a groan of pain from her. I stared down into her wounded eyes, giving her the finger before a quick bicep flex. Ana responded with a middle finger of her own and I knew a third battle would a HATE FILLED WAR.