I also wanted to draw special attention to one additional brand new story for PPV 41. From the amazing jdo90, enjoy!
Stana Katic
Age: 39
Height: 5'9
Weight: 125 lbs
Bust: 32B
Hometown: Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Brooklyn Decker
Age: 30
Height: 5'9
Weight: 117 lbs
Bust: 36DD
Hometown: Kettering, Ohio
The digital holograms of Stana Katic and Brooklyn Decker warped onto the battlefield -- the Gladiatrix arena. Their lithe bodies are scarcely garbed in white togas. Just like the fighters, the arena was also digital, built entirely out of pixels. But that didn't make this match any less brutal for the competitors, all of whom felt as if they were actually standing on the hot, blood-stained sand covering the ground. Both women knew what was at stake -- the coveted golden belt -- the Flyweight Championship.
The CWF exec's apparently spent a good amount on producing a realistic setting for this inaugural event. The digital stadium didn't digitize to a new structure at the beginning of every fight. Instead, it reflects the previous battles that had taken place earlier in the day. Anytime a drop of blood was spilled, that blood drop wouldn't disappear at the start of the next fight. The battlefield, as well as the stone platform and columns within it, reflect the chaos of the fights beforehand.The massive stone columns that once stood erect, surrounding a raised stone platform, are now reduced to rubble, with exposed rebar jutting skyward. The stone steps leading to the platform are chipped and speckled with blood and clumps of hair. The coarse sand blanketing the stadium battleground is stained crimson and the weapons that were used by others now lay broken on the ground.
Katic, although the reigning, defending Champion, appeared timid, nervously shifting her bare feet, her wide expressive eyes nervously darting around, doing anything to avoid eye-contact with the blonde bombshell standing before her. Many people, professionals and fans alike, were betting for Brooklyn to demolish the lanky Champion and it's safe to say, after witnessing the opening minutes, their bets were safe. Katic, instead of facing her foe, made a beeline for the nearest intact weapon she could find. The reigning Champion's darting eyes land on the hilt of a sword protruding out of the sand. She sprints across the arena, her bare heels kicking up clouds of red-tinted sand with Brooklyn chasing behind. Stana, like a baseball player running for home plate, drops down and slides across the sand, her hand reaching out and snatching the hilt of the sword. But, to her dismay, they were all damaged beyond any use.
Once Brooklyn finally caught up with the cowardly Champ, things went downhill for Katic very quickly. Within minutes Stana was stripped nude and beaten to a pulp. Blood trickled from her forehead, down her nose and onto her exposed breasts, giving the Champion a gruesome crimson mask. Curling her fingers into a thick clump of blood-stained hair, Decker hauls the whimpering, wounded Champion to her bare feet and hauls her up the broken stone steps leading to the raised platform in the center of the ancient Colosseum. Brooklyn casually walks to the far edge of the platform, her eyes scanning the destroyed rubble beneath her. Concrete and stone lay 6 feet below her. Old, rusty exposed rebar juts out of the destroyed concrete, standing tall above the rubble, just like Brooklyn. The busty blonde drinks in the surging feeling of power coursing through her body. She breathes in the hot air, allowing this moment to wash over her -- in a few minutes she will be the new champion. But the hair wrapped around her fist suddenly pulls tight, followed by a pathetic squeal from Stana, turning Brooklyn's attention back to the task at hand.
"Where do you think you're going?" Brooklyn snaps as Stana tries to squirm away, pulling futilely against Decker's wrist. "Let goooo of meeeeee!" Katic whines, sounding less like a champion and more like a scared little girl. "You're PATHETIC!" Decker snarls, lifting her foe's chin, the two staring eye-to-eye. Stana's eyes were practically vacant, her mascara-smeared eyelashes trying to bat away the thick cobwebs trapping her body and mind. Tears well in Stana's eyes and slowly trickle down her swollen face. She can barely stand, drunkenly swaying, her bare feet slipping on the hot, sand-dusted stone as if the platform were made of ice. With her fist still wrapped tightly with Katic's hair, Decker slams her knee into Stana's belly, forcing Champion to hunch over at the waist. Her bronzed frame sags and wilts as Stana stares at the surface of the platform, sucking and wheezing for air.
Decker uses Stana's hair to jerk the brutalized brunette's skull between her towering tan thighs. Stana's sun-kissed legs wobble, her heels unsteadily skating apart causing her sweat-soaked labia to flirtatiously peek out from between her slender, spread thighs. Brooklyn bent over, resting her massive breasts on Katic's bent spine, and wrapped her arms around Stana's heaving, firm abdomen. The blonde bombshell roars as she rips the doubled-over brunette up by the waist and hoists the lanky brunette up over her shoulders! Brooklyn, mirroring a move she previously annihilated the Champion with, places Stana in a flawless Widow's Peak position. "Remember this position?" Decker smirks, "I told you, during the lumberjack match, that what I did was only a preview. Just wait until what I have in store for you this time, honey!" Brooklyn growls, carrying Stana like a backpack to the edge of the platform. Katic clumsily squirmed as her stark nude frame was arched against Decker's bowing spine; her chin blindly hooked and pointed skyward, her skull pinned against Brooklyn's shoulder, her split ankles resting on opposite sides of the blonde's hips.
Taking a deep breath, Brooklyn leaps off the platform, soaring through the sky, and lands ass-first on the blood-spattered ground. With stunning precision, Brooklyn dropped the mewling brunette into a crippling Widow's Peak; Stana's head slings forward as the back of her skull slammed against Brooklyn's shoulder. A sickening squelch erupted from between Stana's split thighs as Brooklyn impaled the sniveling brunette pussy-first onto the jagged rebar. Three feet of the rusted, thick, gnarled metal rod disappered, stabbing inside her tight slit, causing her labia to bulge out. Stana's kneecaps collided with the shattered stone and concrete below, rendering her legs useless, not that it even mattered at this point... she was done for. The brunette's arms flew outwards as her bare sternum violently convulsed. Katic's hazel eyes were popping out as tears streaked through the mascara and specks of blood smeared across her puffing cheeks. Her face was frozen in shock, reminiscent of Edvard Munch's masterpiece painting, "The Scream". Brooklyn, for her part, had painted a masterpiece herself, using Stana Katic as her canvas. Blood began trickling from the corners of Stana's gaping mouth and faint gurgling sounds bubbled from her throat.
Brooklyn rises up, brushing sand off her ass before turning around, and sees Stana brutally impaled on the rebar, her frame stuck in the reverse cowgirl position. Wanting to see the look in her foe's eyes, and wanting to cause as much pain as possible, Brooklyn grabs Stana by the shoulders and cruelly spins her around until they are face-to-face, twisting Stana on the gnarled metal as if she were threading a nut on a bolt.
Katic momentarily stiffened on her haunches before teetering backwards. As she leans back, the rebar is visibly outlined against her skin, showing that it tops out at her sternum. Stana lulls forward, her naked, impaled frame flexing with spasms and convulsions. The broken beauty remains propped up on her haunches with the paralyzing, deadly rebar shoved halfway up her insides. Katic's arms go completely limp, falling at her sides, her fingers sporadically twitching.
Stana's devastated frame eventually stops swaying and the gargling in Katic's throat transforms into sputtering clicks and rattles. Decker watches with sadistic glee as Stana's eyes stop blinking and stare, wide-eyed, ahead. Her hazel pools no longer sparkling with tears, dry and empty. Her lifeless body is propped up by the rusty metal filling her guts. "Fatality," Brooklyn quips, flicking her fingers against Stana's forehead before their surroundings disappear and their digital holograms fade away.
