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.
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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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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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.
QuoteWe 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.
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.
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:
(https://cdn.archonia.com/images/1-69656603-1-1-original1/elvira-shape-of-elvira-1-cvr-e-photo.jpg)
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!
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:
QuoteI've sent a deposit for the match, looking forward to getting in the ring with you. My legs can crush diamonds by the way ;).
There was an attachment and I clicked on it. It was a photo from her modeling days:
(https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CxLgjorVIAE15Qt.jpg)
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.
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.
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:
(https://suburbanmen.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/suburban-men-women-we-love-hayley-atwell-20230715-125.jpg)
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.
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:
(https://swimsuit.si.com/.image/t_share/MTY5MjQzMjUzNDA4ODY3NjE3/ashley-graham-2016-web-x160011_tk6_3927-rawwmfinal1920jpg.jpg)
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.
"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:
(https://media.tenor.com/KgTDAXybH18AAAAM/mandy-rose-mandy-rose-wwe.gif)
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...
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..
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.
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.
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.
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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.
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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.
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.
Trying something different, a more abridged story.
"I happened to know a friend of a friend who hooked me up with an invite to a party at Sydney Sweeney's place. It was a great time, the drinks were plentiful, the food was expensive and excellent but the friend told me that the real party would start after the party is over. I was told to stay because I was in for a treat. It was around midnight and Sydney brought the group into her workout room. It was quite big and mats were down as we sat down. There was maybe twenty people and a man walked in. He looked quite average, in decent shape and it was obvious by his attire (Gym shorts, t-shirt) that he wasn't an invited guest. Sydney had left the room and came back wearing a silk robe that she slowly took off. Sydney was wearing a blue and purple flowered bikini and looked amazing! I wondered what we were seeing but the friend said we were in for a treat. What type of treat are we talking about?
Well, this dude apparently goes around wrestling celebrities and the treat is that Sydney was going to put on a show for everybody. I realized that I was the only male in the room and realized that Zendaya had slipped into the room. The two were warming up and the guy didn't even see Zendaya sneak behind him and lock him in a sleeper! The dude was totally shocked and tried to break free but Sweeney slugged him in the stomach a few times. I could see that he was in pain as he fell to his knees as Zendaya kept the hold locked on. Syndney sat on the floor as the two were perfectly in-sync. The guy was out completely before she pushed him right down into Sweeney's crotch. I'd love to be that dude! Except for the fact that Sweeney clamped her legs around him and started choking the life out of him. It was quite amazing to see as she flexed her leg muscles as the dude groaned out a submission. Nothing could be done as Zendaya walked over to his legs and stood over his lower back. She grabbed his legs into a painful Boston Crab and Sweeney had raised herself off the floor. The guy was hollering at this point as his body was being bent at such as awkward angle.
Sweeney relented but Zendaya was methodically wrenching this poor guys back. She finally let go and they backed off letting this guy get back up, you could see that he was shell shocked but Zendaya wasted little time driving her foot into his stomach with a teep kick. The guy bent over as Sweeney grabbed him by the chin and dropped him with a brutal punch. He went down by Zendaya and she responded by grabbing his hair and sticking his head between her legs and squeezing the life out of him. The guy was on the farthest corner of dream street within seconds, as she lacked any emotion while sapping his life. Zendaya brought him back to life with some STIFF slaps, this fella looked like he had just been woken up out of a coma. Zendaya slithered those long legs of hers around his waist and began squeezing him. The guy was screaming in pain as Sydney kneeled down and grabbed him by the hair. She pulled his head up and we saw the look of agony on his face. He tapped the mat frantically as Zendaya let go. Sweeney dragged him up and demanded he kiss one of Zendaya's legs. He did out of fear, kinda pathetic. Sweeney scooped him rather easily into a bearhug, trapping his arms. Sweeney brought up giving him a first class view but if I have to go through that for this view, I'm not interested. The guy passed out as Zendaya walked by and pushed his face into her breasts. Sydney dropped the guy like a sack of potatoes and mock tagged Zendaya. She brought her foot up and debated where to stomp before settling on his crotch. You could see he was in real pain and the two gleefully posed over the dude but they weren't done.
Off came the shirt and he looked to be in decent shape. Zendaya stood over him as Sweeney mounted himand woke him up. First, she just let looose with a series of punches to the chest, each blow traveling through the room. Sweeney placed her beasts over him and stared smothering him with them but any pleasure was a moot point. Zendaya had mounted him and had her back to Sydney's antics. Her job was to inflict pain and she had a handful of crotch! Zendaya just seemed annoyed and woke him up and dragged the poor dude to his feet. He was barely standing as Zendaya SMASHED him with a left hook that had him stumbling and pushed him into Sydney's breasts. They both smiled as Sydney stepped back as he stumbled like the village drunk. Zendaya turned him around, slugged him hard in the stomach and he looked ready to vomit. He was bent over as Sydney stepped in-front of him, put his head between her legs (LUCKY) and wrapped her arms around him. With Zendaya's assistance, she hoisted him up and you could see the fear in this guys eyes. Zendaya held him by the hair as Sweeney went her knees, DRIVING THIS POOR BASTARD INTO THE MATS. He took the brunt of it on his neck and shoulders, the move was so powerful he flopped onto his stomach. His loud screams were snuffed out to whimpers, as he held his neck in pain. He must've passed out from the pain because he just went limp. Somebody called it a double powerbomb as the crowd just erupted into cheers as Sweeney counted him out.
Sweeney got up, walked over to her handler and took out a wad of crisp hundreds and stuffed it in his mouth. The duo put their feet on his face and posed for the crowd. What a show they had put on! I hope that dude was okay as the two posed for a variety of pics. The last had Sweeney sitting on him, with her ass near his throat, you could see that he was up but he didn't want to do anything as the dominant blonde flexed her biceps.
Helluva show!
Salma Hayek called me up and told me to bring the fight. Just because she's fifty-six years old and breaking the internet every time she posts a picture in a bikini, she doesn't want me to lay down for her. I had about two weeks to prepare and I treated this like a heavyweight title fight, eating right, getting a stable sleep schedule and exercising for hours on end. This was about proving to Hollywood and most importantly myself that I could still go.
Fight day arrived and I was ushered to a large empty room by Hayek. We exchanged pleasantries and it was hard to take my eyes off her. If she was playing head games before the match, it was certainly working. A tight low-cut t-shirt showing off her legendary cleavage and a pair of tight shorts to show off her underrated ass. Hayek wanted to spice things up, the match could only win via submission. Nothing new but the winner would have the pleasure of being able to put the loser to sleep with any submission they wanted. It seemed like a fun time so I agreed. To show how serious I was taking this, I put on a rash guard and a pair of Thai fighting shorts with blue tigers on them with ankle socks.
Hayek entered the room robed and quickly de-robed to show off her legendary body. I tried not to stare but got a few peaks in that drew a sly grin from her. She was wearing a barely covering bikini top with a string design in the middle that was barely holding on. It was a beautiful Aztec diamond design with a variety of colors: turquoise, white, black, yellow and red. The bottoms were the same design and quick turn from her showed off a thong leaving very little to the imagination. Every movement she had resulted in a suple part of her body bouncing and this was certainly a tactic.
We faced off in the middle of the room, slapping away attempts to initiate a lockup. Finally Hayek lunged for a headlock, the type that wrestlers used to do when people thought it was real. Less of a warm-up move and more of an attempt to rip somebody's head off. I struggled attempting to slip out but she reinforced her grip. I wasn't worried the thought of her transitioning to a Bulldog choke began rearing it's ugly head. I tried to push her off and we almost went to the floor, but she got back up. I didn't want to exert any energy trying to lift her off the ground so I went the cheap route. Selma didn't put her hair in a bun she I grabbed a hold of it and pulled down. I could hear a yelp and what I presume what a swear in Spanish but I broke out. Selma had her back to me for a split second and I grabbed her by the waist and dragged her down. I tried for a clutch but she quick to counter. Hayek was consistently trying to throw me off so trying a body lock or choke was difficult. I settled on paint brushing her hair and trying to push her head into the ground before getting up.
Hayek was back up and scowled at me as we circled. Every step she took her breasts jiggled a tactic of hers. Distract the white boy and then attack. This time we engaged in a test of strength, the old knuckle lock battle of the greeks. I easily overwhelmed her, even spewing some trash talk, bringing Hayek to her knees. Then I realized "Oh shit she's using her body to distract me." I took one look, lost my concentration and found my grip broken and punch veering towards me. I backed up and lost my footing, foolishly falling to the floor. Hayek pounced on me like a cougar (get it?) and took full mount. I blocked a grapevine attempt of two before I noticed Hayek's breasts were looming over me like those giant swinging axes you'd see in a horror film. Hayek was smiling in this attempt to psych me out and tried to pin my hands to the floor. From there it could be a grapevine and just stretch my legs out until I couldn't rise. I could see that she was setting up for an armlock but I fought out of it. I made enough room to turn over and she jumped at it, much like I had earlier. I slipped out but grabbed her ankle on the way out. I could see some panic as I climbed up her body, locked the ankle around my hands and took a seat on her back.
I began pulling back in a half crab, groans emitting from the trapped actress. I didn't want to exert too much and risk gassing out but I kept my foot on the pedal. I cranked back as Hayek attempted to push me off but I stayed upright. I got greedy, instead of keeping the half crab, I tried grabbing for the other leg and going full Boston. Hayek knew it and in the process got her hand around my ankle and toppled me. We were entangled and Hayek quickly got free. I was up and darted forward, grabbing a bearhug but she clapped my ears right away. I stumbled backwards as Hayek grabbed my arm, twisted underneath like she was trying for a fancy hammerlock and planted her bare foot square in my chest. I didn't go down but the shot hit hard and knocked me backwards. I could feel stinging pain as Hayek wasted little time. I could see her fists up as she threw a straight right I barely dodged. I shot a rather crappy double leg that she blocked easily and we ended up in sprawl. Hayek wrapped her legs around her my head, beginning to choke me with a scissors. My throat was protected but she has the sides of my head screaming like a dog outside during fireworks. I knew what was coming next, grip around the waist and forcing me to the floor, on my side preferably. I was battling her hands and finally managed to rise up after a struggle. The blinding pain around my head was gone as I rose enough to almost backdrop her off. I wasn't free though, she grabbed my ankle while escaping.
Hayek was up and dropped her elbow on the back of my right knee, something I've never nor never ever want to experience again. I tried to get back up and could see her charging to wipe me out with the old chop block. I barely side stepped it and went towards the wall to shake it off. I didn't want to be trapped against the wall and take a buffet of punched so I kept moving. Luckily, I lead with my left knee, I'm a southpaw at heart so she'd have to take some punishment to get to said knee. The fun and games were over, we both scowled as we circled. Hayek attempted a slap but I caught it and folks, I hate to say that I used the Crippler Crossface but I did. I don't like to use the move because of you know, Chris Benoit. I dragged her down, locked the arm between the legs and locked my hands around her chin. I began to pull upwards on her neck, crank it while stretching the locked arm. Her feet kicked up and down off the floor as I continued pulling back, hoping to emit a quick submission and possible apology.
I wonder if she has dogs where they are? Are they enclosed? Maybe in the pool area?
OH GOD I'M SORRY.
I tried to modify my grip, this time getting my hands around the mouth and nose, to uh...smother. I could see her knees rising trying to roll me off and maybe it was the implication but it worked. She rolled me off and got free before standing up and dropping a brutal full force elbow on my navel. The blow took the air right out of me, as Hayek drilled it in before getting up. I rose apprehensively expecting a flurry by Hayek. We grappled a bit before I noticed her stomach was in prime position. Much like the Armas Assault, I launched a full force knee into her stomach, the gasp on pain echoing through the empty room. Hayek didn't have a six pack nor was she flabby but the blow took her foot off the floor. Hayek was a sitting duck for another and that's what I did. Another brutal blow this time aiming for the upper section, right by the sternum. A scream of pain filled the room as she was barely upright, holding onto me. I could have pushed her off and watched her crumble but I called for one more blow. This got a resounding "FUCK YOU" in one last act of defiance. I didn't go for a knee but darted behind and landed a nasty shin kick across her lower back. Hayek yelled in pain before falling to the floor, not knowing what to nurse. The stomach that just received two RPGs or the lower back that just took a nuke. It could've been worse, I was thinking of a boot to the breasts.
I wasted little time grabbed Hayek and forcing her up to her knees. I locked my arms around her throat for an old school sleeper hold. Her nails were digging into my arms, attempting to break the hold. I didn't know how much fight she had left so I went all in, perhaps a mistake. I could feel her fading when suddenly she launched elbow after elbow into my sides. I finally broke the hold but the blows did their damage as she recovered. Hayek went all in trying a handstand scissors, the type that Gia Primo used to pull off. She isn't Gia Primo, but she did unleash hell on my throat. I could see her struggling to maintain the stand and began grabbing at her hands, attempting to break. We eventually fell into a puddle of humanity, barely escaping a figure four attempt by the actress. We had been battling in a warm room, sweat covering our bodies. Hayek's perfect body glistened and I presume this was another mind game. We locked up and I forced her against the wall, trying to tire her out against it. I wasn't exerting that much energy but I knew her escape attempts would wilt her gas tank.
I think she knew my plan and responded with trash talk in Spanish calling out my weak strategy. She tried to go down to take me down and I was a second away from catching a fight ending guillotine. Hayek scurried out from against the wall and jumped on my back for a piggyback sleeper. Big mistake. I stumbled backwards and then struggled to turn around, her back to the wall. Hayek knew what was coming and let out an "OH SHIT" as I crushed her frame against the wall. It broke the hold as I turned and began peppering her stomach with blows. I wanted to turn that core of hers from strong to mashed potatoes. Hayek was fighting back, my blows weren't these epic shots, these were speedbag blows. Every punch was countered with a stinging McMahon-style slap to the face from Hayek. I could see red marks developing on her stomach, I wanted to look like Anne Marie's stomach in a 2003 belly punching video for Sleeperkid. Hayek took them but I knew she was struggling so I went for a big kick. The type that he launched with the shin and she'd lay over it. I didn't go for the stomach.
I WENT FOR THE BREASTS.
My shin bounced off her legendary bust as her screams of pain filled the room. She went down to both knees, her hands massaging them. I stood over her and pulled her back up by the hair but was met with a vicious low blow that my cup barely protected. We were both on the ground, writhing in pain from the sensitive area blows. We both were up to our knees, staring daggers into each other, exchanging vicious slaps all over. We both grabbed hair in attempt to gain dominance. I could see Hayek balling up her fist but I dodged the big punch. Hayek dove in and I blocked it. I stood over her, grabbed her arms and pushed back with my feet. I was going for the standing surfboard, trying to force up. I sat down and locked both feet on her back and pushed up, the type of image that fetish sites would kill to use a selling point. This breasts of hers out at a maximum angle but my god she broke free. I got back up but she pushed me off before undoing her bikini top.
I got a good look before she threw the top at me and charged. I moved to the side and locked in a reverse bearhug. Remember the first rule, never go front bearhug, especially against a celeb that's endowed like Hayek. I lifted her off the ground and squeezed away, sensing the energy in her body fading away. Nudity was her Hail Mary but intercepted the pass. I held her high as her legs kicked up and down, groans filling the room. Finally I lowered her quickly switched a normal bearhug. I went full force, squeezing whatever will she had left in her body. I even shoot lifted her off the ground, my arms digging into her ribs. All she could do was scream in pain as she painfully passed out from the hold.
Right?
Right?
Of course not! Hayek launched a low blow and connected with a knee right to the crotch. Good lord I felt ready to throw up from the pain. I let go and was going to one knee when Hayek grabbed my chin and pulled my head up to face her. The sight of her was an incredible turn out, her eyes filled with rage, heavy breathing and the breasts heaving. Hayek launched another slap that had my right cheek feeling numb. Another slap, followed by a third one and I could barely keep my head up. I saw her hand being balled into a fist and knew the killing blow was coming. I just barely dodged it and tripped her to the ground.
I snared my legs around her exposed breasts and began pressing down on them in a painful body scissors variation. They're already quite big and now they looked comically large as she screaming in pain from the hold. Hayek was doing everything she could to escape, punching at my legs, digging her nails in and trying to bridge out. I had her trapped as I went full force with the hold as she finally screamed a submission. I let go of the hold right away as she held up her end of the bargain, telling me to put her out with whatever I wanted. Salma was on the ground still, tending to her wounded and no doubt sore breasts. I dragged her up and I could see that the fire in her eyes from earlier had disappeared. I decided to put her out the old fashioned way with a beathug. I lifted her off the ground and squeezed away, sensing the energy in her body fading away. Nudity was her Hail Mary but intercepted the pass. I held her high as her legs kicked up and down, groans filling the room. Finally I lowered her quickly switched a normal bearhug. I went full force, squeezing whatever will she had left in her body. I even shoot lifted her off the ground, my arms digging into her ribs. All she could do was scream in pain as she painfully passed out from the hold. The site of her exposed breasts heaving up and down while being locked in was a pleasant surprise. I also knew they were in serious pain from being pressed against my chest. Helluva turn-on Ill admit, as her head slumped against my shoulders, she had passed out from the hold. I gently let her down, I could see that she was completely knackered from the squeeze.
I put on foot on her legendary breasts, staring down as she slowly came to. She was staring up at me as I did a quick bicep flex over her defeated body.
I really need to stop picking fights with bigger women.
I am not a giantess killer.
I am somebody who gets killed by giantess's.
Why not go fight Jenna Ortega? Or Mia Goth? Or that new girl from Fallout with the Furby eyes that's the new queen of the internet. Just why in the blue hell did you accept a match against Hannah Waddingham from Ted Lasso? Curves for days, big legs, big bust and a big attitude. That vibe that she'll enjoy tossing me around before trying to pop my head between her legs like a teenager desperately trying to pop a pimple before prom. I could already feel the pain in my ribs from the inevitable rib crushing I was going to receive.
Thank god this wasn't in a ring, those rings seem to be like catnip for these celebrities. "Ooh it's just like that tv WrestleMania stuff, I can really toss this poor guy around!" I end up being bounced that ring for an eternity. Instead, it was a local gym that was kind enough to take a nice payday, close up shop and shut their mouthes. Make sure the mats are sanitized so we don't end up with a staph infection, you know the deal. The mats gave me little relief since I remember Anna Kendrick taking them off and slamming my knee into them. Speaking of that, why am I not fighting Anna Kendrick? SHE'S SHORT. Should I go fight her right now? Sounds great or even Dua Lipa. She's my height but skinny, we could have a fun SK vs Keri style ma-
Just get to the beating.
You don't care about what I wear stop feigning interest. You pervs only care about what the female is wearing and wowza she's a knockout. A tall glass of water wearing an bubblegum pink sports bra/pants combo that highlighted her long legs and curvy hourglass physique. You know maybe Christina Hendricks should represent the good old US of A and fight her instead of me. With a smile that lured me into her trap and flowing blonde hair, she certainly gave off a 1940's glamour vibe. We chit chatted and she seemed very enthusiastic and excited for all this and it was the complete opposite of the dread filling my brain.
And then the bell rang.
We circled a bit and I could see her smiling, baring her teeth. Beautiful teeth but it felt like staring at a smiling shark. I tried to grab but she slapped my hands away and dared me to come inside which is just a stupid idea. So I refused to and backed up, daring her to come to me. I could see a roll of the eyes and a look with a tinge of annoyance. Hannah pursued and I went for a leg to only get caught in your everyday garden variety headlock, brining the squeeze. One look up and I could see that she was enjoying herself as I tried to push my way out. I even tried to lift her up which got a laugh and an increase in pressure. Was I panicking? Absolutely not, I was panicking the moment this match was agreed to, now I was super panicking. There's a big difference. I went for a handful of hair and that just angered her and she took me to the ground. Now if this was a pro wrestling match, I would flatten myself out and let the ref count me out so I could escape but nope. Suffice to say, I wasn't starting to feel the hold, my held felt like it had a thousand gallons of water in it and my ears were burning. I could see her staking out her next hold.
She moved to a mounted position and tried to pin my arms down, I gave those up. However, I had my legs closed up and was refusing to fall victim to a grapevine. My hope was to annoy me way out of it and it did the trick, I laughed internally at her frustration. I wasn't laughing when she decided to use my chest as a bouncy house, bouncing up and down. Don't get me wrong the visual of her bouncing was quite hot but she was thumping my chest pretty hard and I took the chance to buck her off. That was a mistake as I did get her off for a millisecond but she stayed on-top and was now on my back. I could feel those legs wrap around my waist and then...pain. Hannah turned it into a bodylock and began constricting my abdomen. I found myself in a seated position, it was straight out of a python/prey video from Veve Lane. The males facial expression is one of anguish, mouth open wide, face turning red while the dominant feel smiles in the background. Guess what? There's more! Hannah grabbed a Full Nelson also to trap my hands leaving me with no escape. No escape, no choice to blurt out a quick submission. Hannah let go and slithered away as I held my abdomen in pain, I was so close to going out it was scary.
To say that I wanted this to be over after two moves is a massive understatement. Hannah was on her knees and motioned be over in that sexy voice of her. We faced out in a bearhug challenge and while my hold affected her, she just bullied me with her size. She won and I was subjected to another painful abdomen constriction. I tried to break free but Hannah used her position to put me on the mat. From there she easily maneuvered her body and took a seat on my throat. She very easily could've put me out with a pubis choke but instead wrapped her legs around my head and brought the pain with a mounted triangle choke. I had no real means of escape as she sat back and ratcheted the pressure. I tapped out as my neck felt like it was being snapped in half from the pressure.
Hannah stood up and was relentless, rolling me over and hook my legs. I knew what was coming, a Boston Crab and I hoped she stayed standing. She did for a moment and the pain was manageable. I feigned an escape attempt by grabbing at the ankles and tried to push up but it was futile. Finally she sat down and that's when the screaming began. She had brought her full 145 pound body onto my back nullifying any escape attempt. I howled as she pulled back on my legs as I finally tapped the mats like crazy. I felt like my back was being pushed to its absolute limit with that hold and I hoped this was the end.
It wasn't.
Hannah was up and crushed my body into the mats with a big splash. My head comically darted up as I unleashed cries of pain. I was rolled over and watched, nearly paralyzed in fear as she took and crushed my abdomen with a running splash. My legs comically kicked up in the air, no air left in my body. Hannah stared a mock count but pulled my arm up before the three. She dragged me up as I looked into her radiant eyes. I couldn't do much, I was only up because she pulled me up. I pushed her away and began to back up. I was I full panic mode when Hannah killed me with a boot to the gut, doubling me over. The blow worsened my already destroyed core as I was bent over, holding my stomach. She moved behind me and wrapped her arms around my throat for a sleeper. I've rarely been the victim of this but I began to panic, first a desperate escape. I began to scream as I felt very light-headed. I finally embraced that no escape was possible as my eyelids began to flutter and my vision blurred. Finally, I was out, my body almost melting into hers. Hannah brought me to my knees and let me down gently. My face felt the warm embrace of the mat and I could feel a little drool escape.
Is it bad that I liked this?
I got the email around 2:00 PM in the afternoon. Like right at two o'clock and that's when I realized the clandestine and precise nature of what this upcoming match would be. It was a very simple email, Taylor Swift wanted a match with me and the payoff was going to be very generous. My payoffs are nice, years of hustle and reliability had my payoffs in the high four figures and some in the low five figures. This was a high five figure payoff, with the payment going in right after I accepted. I began to realize how different this was from my usual matches. I'd just get in my car, drive to the agreed location and just have the match.
Not with Taylor.
Due to Taylor being the most popular musician and possibly public figure, everything was being done with a cloak and dagger mentality. I was even sent a burner phone for communication that would be incinerated after this. I was to be outside of my place at 4:00 AM on the dot to be picked up and driven to a private airfield. Very little conversation was had as I signed some last minute paperwork and went over instructions with a handler. The only rule was no blows to the face which I agreed to. It would be in a mma ring and the way to win was by submission or knockout. I flew on a private jet for the ninety minute flight to San Fransisco and I'll give her credit, everything was first class. I had the best Eggs Benedict I've ever tasted, had a few mimosas and just relaxed. We landed at another private airfield, drove to a private marina and took a yacht to a island off the coast of San Francisco. A private island. That she rented for a week. A level of wealth that I could never reach in five lifetimes, and the house that she rented was massive. There was a mother-in-law cottage that was my quarters for the next three days. I had full access to the gym and complimentary room service. Taylor was arriving that night and we'd have the match the next night. I worked out, ate some great food and slept. I did meet with her briefly and we had a few minutes of chit chat before she was ushered off to her place. She was very straightforward with what she expected out of me come match time. I was worried that her football player boyfriend was going to pop out from a room and beat me up if I won. That got a chuckle.
I spent most of the next day strategizing after a morning jog and a solid nap. Taylor had the height advantage by about three inches and had the legs to keep me at bay. To get in close was to be subjected to a buffet of kicks and knees and once the hit the ground, avoid getting those legs wrapped around me. I got the call to head to the main building around 9:00 PM. The room with the ring in its own building with large floor to ceiling windows, the views of the ocean were breathtaking. The building had smaller wide open windows and the cool California breeze filled the room. I went into a small changing and geared up, a pair of tight shorts and a black long sleeve shirt. I made my way to the ring to see Taylor already warming up, stretching those long legs of here. Taylor had her hair in a bun and wearing a shiny spandex one piece swimsuit/leotard combination. The swimsuit was a deep shade of purple and the leggings were dark blue. It most certainly accentuated her legs and tight body. If Hayley Atwell wore it, I would most certainly be distracted to a point of drooling a puddle.
The room was empty save for handlers and a bodybag who could probably kill me thirty-eight different ways with a Q-tip. The handlers and friends said nothing as they munched on popcorn and drank overpriced bottle water. I got in the ring and warmed up opposite of her. When she stepped to the middle of the ring, I came forward as a ref (No doubt well compensated) went over last minute instructions. We both shook hands and before we went back, Swift backed up a bit and lifted her right leg onto my shoulder. She kept it there for a few moments with a cheeky grin. I looked at it, sarcastically smiled and gave a a sarcastic golf clap as she took it down. This was a good old fashioned intimidation tactic and folks, it worked. We went back into our corners as the anticipation built to a crescendo and the bell (Well a YouTube video) finally rang.
I came out and Taylor flicked kick my way, I backed up. I didn't want to show fear of her legs as I sidestepped a quick one and caught a push kick. I walked forward and forced her against the ropes before backing up. I bluntly stated that I wasn't afraid of those long legs of hers. We reset in the middle as Swift went for a grab and I ducked under, snatching a hammerlock. I cranked it high and drew first blood with a grungy and a yell. I forced her stomach first against the ropes, keeping her there for a few seconds. The plan was to get her in the corner but those legs came into play when she extended her leg and blocked and pushed back. We stumbled but I locked in a choke and almost had her. It was a Bulldog variation and I planted my foot on the back of her knee to push it down. I had her down to one as an audible shock filled the room from her handlers and friends that it could be over. It wasn't as Swift was back up and drove me backwards into the corner. The corner was well padded so it had little impact but her body crashing into me took the air out from me. I figured Swift would tee off on a vulnerable jobber but I think she was a bit shell shocked and even winded. I know most musicians have intense workout regimens since their job is to perform every night but this was a new environment.
I grabbed a Full Nelson and even used the corner to my advantage. With both feet on the middle rope, I had the statuesque singer on her knees quickly and had her facedown on the mat. I was setting up to end this with the dreaded Full Nelson Clutch but she quickly escaped and almost landed a standing headscissors. I got my head out of the way and tried to pick her ankle for a low takedown. She stepped out of it and I got back up, resetting yet again. Taylor amped the aggression by a few levels throwing a few kicks, one that grazed my knee. I winced and backed up a bit and she darted towards but I grabbed the over-under and placed her against the ropes. She was squirming trying to find an escape and I was content to wall-and-stall for a bit. Let her expend some energy, let that has tank empty a bit as she tried to fight her way out. I tried to grab a leg and go for a takedown but she blocked it. I had my arms wrapped around one of her stems but it was futile. I made the mistake of trying a lifting takedown when a simple single leg would've been the answer and we crashed to the ground, an entangled mess of limbs.
A mad scrambled ensued with the two of us battling for a dominant position. I damn near had her up in a fireman's carry but Taylor dead-weighted me and now I was flattened out on my stomach. Bad. Bad. This is bad, get your knees up and get up.m, but Taylor had trapped one arm between her legs. I refused to give up my other arm as she began to squeeze and I felt the power of those legs. I could feel a numbing pain at first that slowly turned into a searing pain as Taylor placed her elbow in the side of my neck and began grinding it in. An unusual tactic but it did get result in some painful discomfort on my end. I finally snaked my arm out, got the knees up and managed to just barely hit a fireman's carry. It felt great but Taylor snaked those legs around my side so fast I stood up and backed up.
Taylor stayed on the floor, those long and luxurious legs wide open, daring me to come play. I tried to shake the numbness off as I approached the devil. Taylor had those legs up trying to push me away as I tried to go in. I wanted side control taking the legs completely out of the picture, but I settled for half guard even if she could squeeze a leg. I got into half guard after some gutsy maneuvering and felt great..until she swept me almost right away and now she was on top and took a mounted position. Taylor looked down and smiled at her plaything, trying to snag those long legs around mine for a grapevine. What ensued what the most painful game of footsy in human history as her legs slowly tore my legs open and snagged the dreaded grapevine. She slowly but even more slowly and surely begins the process of stretching my legs apart as she tried to turn them into jelly. I began to howl out and was also fighting to keep my hands from being held down. If that happened, she could very easily keep me there until the end of time but I won that battle and snatched a bottom bearhug.
It isn't half effective as a standing one but it did the job. As the battle of the stretch vs squeeze ensued, I could feel some much needed relief as her legs let mine go. My legs had that feeling when you try to sprint with your friends without stretching, a feeling of on fire that eventually subsided. I used the hug to roll her over like A COMPLETE IDIOT and realized she had me trapped. I blame the heat of the battle. I was in her guard and those legs I had desperately avoided? They were not wrapped around my waist. It was scissors time, population one dumbass Hollywood Jobber. I panicked and tried to brute force my way out of it but the tightness was real. Taylor was slowly constricted my sides like a boa constrictor and the worst part? Taylor's face was expressionless like an absolute psychopath taking no pleasure in killing. I tried to undo the ankles but that was a methodical process and time was not on my side. I was breathing heavily, the breathes were haggard and becoming harder and harder to come by. I even began driving my elbow into her knees hoping that was the trick. It gave me some needed relief but she just wrapped them around tighter. I felt a bit woozy, like a drinker feeling a light buzz except this wasn't a good feeling. I finally pressed the nuclear option as my breathing was being constricted.
I smashed a fist into the shiny one piece of hers. Swift let out a helluva yell and I felt some relief. My body wasn't released so I smashed a good forearm lifter into her stomach once more, another cry of pain. I launched two more and finally a double hammerfist and her legs were finally undone. Swift was hurt, I could see her hands wrapped around her stomach, and I wasn't any better. I was breathing hard but I was up when I grabbed a leg and wrapped mine and drove my body weight into it, planting that leg into the mat. Another cry, this one a hellacious one as I could see the h color left the handlers face. I imagine them being sent to the gulag being forced to watch that awful Lorax film if I lost. I wanted to crank back but Swift's lanky nature came into play again. She almost caught me dead to rights with a rear naked choke from the bottom that I just barely escaped. I kept her down though and grabbed her legs in a wishbone once more this time to play tribute to The Funker. I grabbed that wounded knee and went for the spinning toe hold and nailed it. I wrenched as she groaned but when I went to rotate again but Swift booted my behind when I was turning and I went careening into the corner. I stopped myself but backed up into Swift who tripped me to the ground and snagged those legs around my head.
No. No. Goddamnit. Swift went for a garden variety headscissors and went full force, hoping for a quick submission. Her legs were so far away that grabbing the ankles was hopeless and she snuffed out a bridge. I hadn't recovered from the body scissors and now that lightheaded feeling was taking over. I realized my only solution was to pound my way out. I began punching her legs, thighs and knees in hopes of breaking free. All meanwhile trying to stay awake and possibly alive depending upon her mood when this ends. I finally freed myself but unlike last time, I was in no hurry to get back up, I felt washed. Swift however was back up and on the attacking smelling blood in the air. Swift ripped me off the floor and forced me into the corner. Taylor undid the bun, letting her trademark long blonde strands free. It caused a murmur that feeling on "now it's torture time". A big knee sliced through my core, my feet jumping off the mat. Followed by another sharp blow just below my rib cage. Breathing was more a luxury and I had a wallet with expired Wendy's coupons in it. Two blows and my body was washed over with pain as Swift measured a landed a perfect shin kick into my stomach. My knees were buckling but these weren't full force kill-shots, she was holding back. This seemed more like a cruel tapas, a taste of what's to come, a couple more jackhammer stomps had me on the floor, Swift hauling me up. She extended that long leg in the money shot a video maker would cream his gym shorts over. Her foot was choking away and not since Stacy Keibler at No Mercy 2001 was the visual so impactful. My feet kicked off the ground as I choked on my saliva when the ref finally had enough and broke it up. Swift scowled but agreed and backed off leaving me a shell of a fighter in the corner. I finally got it together and I was barely out of the corner when she attacked again. Using the ropes to keep herself up, she jumped and wrapped those legs around my weakened waist but I fought back. Not with the stomach blows but by pulling those blondes strands of her. I began pulling like a violent cat fighter. It was finally enough to get her off me.
I could see eyes filled with anger as she kept me in the corner and this time decked me a left hook. My head flew backwards at this blatant rule violation as she climbed on the second rope and began to violently choke me. She even took her singlet strap and pulled a late 1980's Andre the Giant. The ref was trying to pry her off me after the blitz I had just endured. I was barely upright and barely alive when she went to the apron and tepidly climbed to the top rope, taking a seat. Her legs wrapped around my head but I WAS READY. I slipped out dragged her down, grabbed a body lock and lifted her high. I drove her down and we both hit the barely padded mat hard with a back body drop. Drastic times call for drastic measures, Swift was nearly unresponsive as she groaned. I took a good brunt of it but this was it. I had my opening. I rolled Taylor over as the blonde was quite loopy as I wrapped her shin around mine, grabbed her arms and lifted her off the ground for the dreaded ceiling hold. I had very little time as her frame made it shockingly difficult to keep her up. You think with how skinny she is it would be was easy but this move was all me. The ref was asking to see if she was ready to give and she called him well a word I can't say. Taylor was screaming in pain but I just couldn't keep her up there and brought her back down. If that was earlier, I would've been content to keep her up there forever but I just lacked the strength to do so. I hauled her up by those blonde locks and scooper her up and I mean this was shoot lift in the air for a bearhug. When you see Sleeperkid lifting a girl in the air she's going for the ride, but I was lifting her 122 pound frame high in the air. I also didn't have to worry about the legendary stare down at the cleavage and get distracted however the strength was wearing down. I brought her down as her anguished cries filled the room but she was rallying back. She clapped my ears twice and disoriented me enough to force an escape. Swift pushed me off the ropes and hoped to connect with a killing blow. I grabbed the leg though and left her hopping. I then hit the worst ever dragon screw leg whip, one so bad that if Hiroshi Tanashi the greatest wrestler to master the move saw this in person he'd leave the room in silence go home and go to his room and just sit at the edge of his bed for three days in complete silence.
It did the trick for me as Swift held that wounded leg of hers as I grabbed it and told her we're going to school. I locked in the figure four leg lock and had her dead to rights in the middle of the squared circle. I cranked as hard as possible hoping to hear her hand tap that mat or scream a submission. We were both sitting up as her reach AGAIN came into play, getting her hand around my throat to start strangling me. She even slapped me a few times to force a release. The blows stung and we were both up with feral looks in her face. Swift went for a kick but I caught it right away. I wanted to drag her down and stretch it out some more but in a show of dazzling athleticism, she leaped in the air and NAILED me with a beautiful enzuigiri. I crumbled to my knees, my head on fire from the head, my vision all distorted. I'd later find out the blow netted me a concussion and a migraine so horrendous that I wanted to die. I don't say that often as I found myself at Swift's knees. Swift began to undo the straps on her singlet, revealing a sports bra that cost the average Joe three months salary. If the hair going down was torture time this was a signal she was going for the kill. Swift forced me up and grabbed the dreaded Thai Plum. I was hopeless fighting to break free out of instinct.
Her knee went up and in, crushing my airflow with three or four impactful knees. I tried to block but it was like my body was signaling for me to give up the fourth and fifth blows saw Taylor letting go as I crumbled to the mat below her. Find the will to fight Jobber, you've down bad like this before and always found a way to win I kept telling myself as she hauled me up. I thought of a great quote from Rocky Balboa: "Italian food cooked up by a bunch of Mexicans doesn't sound so special to me, Rock." Wrong quote dammnit as she held me up and looked for the grand finale. She tried to do the old Gia Primo handstand scissors but she most certainly lacked Gia's legendary technique. Trust me, she could boast about having me out in the hold within a few squeezes. First the legs were too far apart and that gave me the opening I needed. I looped one arm around a leg and stopped her momentum, grabbing the other one, I was able to force her down into an elevated Boston crab. Her lanky figure was on full display and I even had my knee on her neck as I tried to break her in two. Taylor was screaming trying to figure a way out as I squeezed away, but her length came into play. Taylor contorted her body and she moved herself onto her shoulders, breaking the hold. I was not having it as I maneuvered her back in and began cranking hoping she would finally give in but she just as quickly found a way out. I didn't want or break my grip around her legs so I let her have with a few choice gut kicks my foot making a heavy indent on her toned abs. This time I went with the sit down crab hoping that I could keep down for good. If I had to, I was willing to bend her back so hard those feet of her touched the mat. This was a struggle as she got her hand around my ankle to push me off. I was fighting with her trying to keep my balance until I lost out and I both went tumbling to the mat. I cursed myself for being so wounded that she knocked me off. It had been a grueling thirty-five minute battle. We were both exhausted, Swift was back up and I dove for a takedown, it was sloppy and I left my head wide open.
Taylor snared a guillotine choke, getting the legs wrapped around me. I thrashed and tried to brute force my way out, the arm was in so that gave me a bit of relief. Taylor was digging it in and I found myself on the verge of passing out as she went on her side and she eventually had my back on the mat in a no-win situation. Taylor was trying to pull my head off and even snared a grapevine as I realized that escape was not on the menu. So I finally tapped the mat three times since I was on the verge of passing it. Swift let go showing she was a class act as she collapsed beside me. Her long blonde hair was a sweaty mess as she stomach heaved. I was half expecting some humiliating victory pose but she too was ok the verge of exhaustion. Swift was the first one back up and offered a hand. I was reluctant as I rose, expecting a surprise headkick or some other violent goodnight kiss. Instead it was a handshake and a look of respect from her. We were both two wounded warriors and respect had been forged in combat. I think Swift believed that this would be a quick night but I had my made her night hell. I later found out she came close to cracking a rib with some of her blows and scissors. Swift even held the ropes open for my when I went to exit the ring.
What is the real Height Weight of Taylor Swift and measurement?
For me she doesnt Look skinny
The Forbidden Door had been opened.
Standing before The Jobber warming up in their bikinis were the two opponents that stepped through said door. One, a short sexy Italian that..what was that Internet meme? Thicker than oatmeal? That's how The Jobber would describe Deonna Purrazzo, from AEW. Deonna was wearing a blue bikini with a flower pattern. The cut on the bottoms accentuated here powerful legs that the Jobber dreaded feeling the wrath of. It also helped that Deonna's bottoms were a thing showing off a rather plump ass.
The set of legs on her partner weren't no slouch either. One would say she had legs for days and a few weeks to spare. Others would say she was sex on legs and that it made her seem taller. At the height of 5'7, she neared the Jobber in that department and towered above other female wrestlers. It didn't help that the her blue and red-striped one-piece swimsuit was a high cut that showed them off. With that cut of clothing, her legs seemed like stilts compared to the normal female. This was Chelsea Green from the WWE and on top of the killer legs, Green was well-endowed in the ass department and her breast implants were phenomenal. They weren't comically large like some, they were the perfect fit for her frame.
This was a handicap match and the Jobber knew he was cooked. This wasn't a normal tag rules style of handicap match. The jobber could strategize and keep the match on his side. Also, this wasn't in a ring. All the jobber worried about was not being put against the wall. As the match (or slaughter to be precise) began, The jobber avoided the wall. Instead he found himself frozen and moving backwards from the two. The man was in a trance staring at his pursuers. The way Chelsea's moved towards him like a runaway model. Deonna's body was that perfect mix of soft and muscle. The Jobber considered diving at the closest one, but he stumbled backwards and fell on his ass.
Let the slaughter begin. Deonna offered a helping hand and like the idiot he is, The jobber took it. The man is, was and forever will be a fool because he took it and Chelsea grabbed the other hand. In one quick motion, the two grapplers had the man in stereo arm wringers. With the jobber immobilized, his eyes went wide. It wasn't the fact that both of his arms weren't being bent at an angle that the human anatomy never intend. The jobber knew what was coming as both wrestlers landed dual kicks to his unguarded abdomen. The jobber wanted to go down as his knees buckled, but he could not. Deonna's was right on the belly button and Green was right above her's. Which one hurt the worse? Green has the long legs but Deonna's felt like getting a cannonball to the gut. The jobber worried that another dual kick would pierce his core as he helplessly stood there. You know that old adage, what goes up must come down? Well, The jobber was going to find that out the hard way.
With one fluid motion, Chelsea and Deion's scooped the jobber up and body-slammed him onto the thin and unforgiving gym mat. This wasn't your basic scoop slam you'd see in most videos. The jobber wasn't held precariously a few feet above the ground before being dropped, he took a full force body slam. Besides the fact that whatever wind left in him from the kick taken out of him, his back felt like it'd been been thrown on a hot flattop. White hot pain up and down his back and going down the back of his leg. Deonna forced him up and locked him in a Full Nelson. The jobber worried about a stomach bashing but it was something far worse. You see, once the jobber found out these two fine ladies would be wrestling in swimwear, he agreed to work shirtless. It was very stupid move on his end once he realized these girls would chop his chest raw if they had the opportunity.
CHOP
CHOP
CHOP
CHOP
Four unforgiving knife-edge chops pierced the jobbers chest as he tried to kick Chelsea away between wails of pain. Followed by three more that had his chest turning beet red, he desperately tried to escape. Chelsea came in a bit too close for the killing blow, BOOT TO THE GUT! Chelsea stumbles backwards, Deonna is shocked and loosens her grip. The Jobber slips out, turns and takes her down with a double leg! To only had those powerful legs wrapped around his waist. Those legs, filled with the fury and anger of someone having just watched their friend get hit. Chelsea was back up and thanks to being ungodly tall, locked in a standing camel clutch. As Deonna crushed the jobbers ribs with her legs and Chelsea wrenching his spinal cord, the jobber was in hell. He could feel the oxygen being cut off and was on the verge of going under before mercifully tapping the mats. Deonna let go but now it was Chelsea's turn to play. Chelsea continued to pull back on the jobbers chin, twisting his back to its breaking point. It didn't help when Deonna decided to lock in a Boston Crab, bending the already tender and compromised spine to its max level. The jobber was full-on squealing and screaming to his opponents delight as the two had elevated the poor bastard off the ground. He finally muttered a submission before being dropped right on his face.
The clutch/crab accomplished its goal of pushing the jobbers spine to its absolute limit. The man became a human lowercase u and now the two females were plotting out further destruction. Each one grabbed an arm and cranked back on dual fujiwara armbars. The jobber screams filled the room as it felt like the vivacious duo were trying to rip his arms off. With the both elbows being hyperextended, the jobber painfully cried out a submission. Up next was a cruel one as they both laid beside the jobber, grabbed and leg and began pulling the jobber like two kids fighting over the wishbone. The jobber finally tapped the mats after what felt like an eternity. By the time the duo let go, the jobbers arms and legs felt like jelly.
Chelsea mounted him and locked in a punishing grapevine, as if his legs didn't hurt enough. Her stature made it impossible to escape but she failed to lock the hands. Well, Deonna was on the case using the jobbers arms to strangle the poor bastard into a deep sleep. In the many sleeps that the jobber has undergone against female competition, this might've been the most agonizing. With his limbs being restrained, he found himself violently fading into the void before going limp. The two dominant females released their respective holds and surveyed the damage they had inflicted on their pathetic opponent. Deonna developed a wicked smile and whispered into Chelsea's ear. The jobber was beyond oblivious to what was coming next but could feel his body being positioned, being rolled over. From a blurry corner of his eye, he could see Chelsea scooping Deonna up for a body slam Had they turned on each other?
Nope, Chelsea just body slammed Deonna's 165 pound frame onto the jobbers back. Deonna landed perfectly and took minimal damage but that couldn't be said for the man underneath her. It felt like the jobbers spine had been bent in half as his screams and cries of pain filled the room. The jobber was hauled up and could barely move, the damage done with the slam turned his lower half into mush, his knees buckling as he was moved to the wall. From there, he was subjected to a buffet of blows. More chops, the open hand and knife edge variety. Those echoed throughout the room and continued to turn the jobbers chest into dark shades of red. Then came the stomach blows, first some dual punches and knees from the duo. Hard enough that hot bile went up his throat, but alas nothing. Each individual blow from the duo had the jobber bouncing off the wall to only be pushed back. It was a chorus of groans as each blow pierced his flesh. Diana was going for the kill with big knees and hip blow to decimate his core and having his abdomen feel like mush. As her knee pushed into his organs, he could only feel the inflammation. Green was specializing in kicks using her long legs to pulverize the male. The classic stand at his side and letting her shin bone do the work. She also straight up booted the jobber in the stomach, keeping the foot in there. Chelsea even pelted the jobbers tender chest with those cheesy martial arts kicks that Sable used to perform. Except these hurt and it felt like the jobber was having his chest caved in. One final big kick to the chest had the jobber gasping for air and clutching his chest, which had begun to resemble the ground beef section of the super market. Deonna took the jobber off the wall signaling an end of this cruelty. Of course it wasn't as Chelsea grabbed the other arm and they whipped the jobber face first into the wall. The jobber hit it going fifty miles and hour and crumbled to the floor upon impact. The man wasn't knocked out as groaned and held his head as Chelsea dragged him to the middle of the room.
Chelsea laid by his head and slithered her long legs around his head. It was your garden variety headscissor as Chelsea enjoyed the visual of the jobber squirming. Green began elevating herself off the floor with her hands, increasing the pressure. It was a visual that any producer would've killed to have. Chelsea's long legs on full display, the jobbers face a mask of agony. The elevation showing off her breasts and the devious grin she wore. Blood was being cut off to the jobbers brain but it wasn't time to go out. Chelsea let go and tagged Deonna in. It was now Deonna's turn to choke the poor bastard silly. Deonna began squeezing harder than ever, the jobbers face turning a shade of red it was never meant to be. Deonna was flexing those thighs and quads of hers to increase the pressure tenfold as the jobber faded into oblivion.
The duo stood above the jobber eyeing up their work. His reddened chest, the red splotches on his bare abdomen from their blows, red marks from their legs choking the fight out of him. Most of all, just how would they waken him from his slumber? Was that drool? HOW DARE HE! In one cohesive move Deonna leaped while Chelsea everted a leg up and down they crashed on the jobber. Chelsea's leg right on the chest and again, the jobber felt the 165 pound fury of Deonna. This was the wake up from the eight-hundredth circle of hell and the jobber was jolted awake in pain. The view however of Chelsea's ass? A nice consolation prize. First prize? Well, that was a double snap suplex, that prize sucked.
The jobbers back had already been tenderized when his back smashed into those mats. A low dull groan escaped from his mouth as he laid on the mat, not moving at all. Chelsea went to pin him but according to senior referee Deonna Purrazzo, the jobbers should was just a bit off the ground so the punishment continue! Upon further review, the jobbers shoulder was done so let's chalk that up to biased refereeing. The jobber wanted to stay on the ground, if he got up, he was certainly in for a world of hurt.
Well, he was dragged up and walked to the center of the ring. DOUBLE DROPKICK sent the jobber stumbling onto the couch. Chelsea dragged the jobber off who was clutching his reddened chest as Deonna scooped him in a bearhug. Deonna squatted and squeezed the jobber as he cried out in pain, his already destroyed back taking more damage. What he didn't see was a charging Chelsea! HART ATTACK! CHELSEA NEARLY TOOK HIS HEAD OFF WITH THAT CLOTHESLINE! The jobbers head bounced on the mat like a basketball. There wasn't a moment to waste as Chelsea stretched the jobber over her knee. It was a backbreaker but luckily no backs were being broken. However with Deonna standing on the couch, he might wish for that. DEONNA OFF THE COUCH WITH A BIG ELBOW, DEMOLTION DECPAITIATON. The duo were in sync as the jobber had to recover being dragged back up and being bent over. Thank you ladies for not abusing his stomach any more, but A DOUBLE POWERBOMB? The jobber was high in the air and slammed down with fury on the mats. The man was clutching his neck, THATS MAN HAS A CAT DAMMNIT STOP THE DAMN MATCH. WHAT ARE YOU TWO JEZABELLS DOING, A SPIKE PILEDRIVER? Not just any as Deonna hauled him up and Chelsea jumped off the couch driving his head right into the mat. It was the Arn and Tully special as the jobber did the old Terry Funk seizure sell on impact before going out. Chelsea and Deonna took turns with mock pins with the other playing ref. Ultra close counts to mock the possibility of a comeback.
Finally, the massacre was over.
The door had been closed.
"Quite simply, she's not famous enough for me to face."
When a match with Kate Upton was pitched, those were my exact words. It might sound pretentious, but I was facing legit Hollywood stars! Lawrence! ScarJo! Alba! Not some model who might be relegated to the "used to be relevant" pool in two years. Boy, I was wrong and now, I'm going to take a well deserved ass kicking. My past had finally came to haunt me and I agreed to face her in a ring match. I don't know why since I've won three matches in a ring (Dennings, Portman Lawrence) and have lost more than I count. Mostly against woman that I am very overmatched against, like Jade Cargill. Not thinking much, I just wore normal gear and came into the ring barefoot. When I saw Upton, I had to stifle a chuckle. Yes, she looked incredible wearing a pink and black striped bikini, the top barely doing it's job of containing her legendary breasts. No doubt that would be a factor in distracting me and I was hoping for a match ending smother. What? I've been smothered by the following:
-Daddario
-Dennings
-Hendricks
-Sweeney
Besides that, she wore elbow and knee pads plus wrestling boots. Why? Well, I found out why when we locked up, no words were exchanged and I sneaked at her breasts. Upton saw, smiled and stomped her wrestling boot on my exposed toes. I'm not going to lie but the pain was quite awful as Upton slugged me with a big cross to the jaw. Now everything was going haywire, I stumbled backwards as Upton came after and pushed me against the ropes. I almost fell out on could've cracked my head on the apron or the mats below. Upton sized me up and faked that she was going to hit me in the stomach but instead drove her knee straight into my crotch. The same crotch that had taken a brutal beating in the Plaza match, and I did what any person would do and put my hands on my crotch. I was sitting on the middle rope, barely keeping my balance when I realized the grave mistake I had committed. It left me wide open for another cross that sent me tumbling out of the ring, I barely had enough time to land properly. I could see Upton standing above me and tried to get ahold of her ankle and pull her down but she dodged and stomped her foot on my hand. Yay! I was already woozy from the two punches, the knee and now my hand was hurting like hell. Upton came to the outside, scooped me up and slammed me on the mats.
First, that hurt. Second, who the hell taught her how to do a bodyslam? I'd later find out that she got some pro-style training just for this match, which is true dedication to holding a grudge. Of course, I highly doubt she paid for the training, being a celebrity and all. Upton pulled me back up and rolled me back into the ring, before coming back in and laying on my back. I could feel her breasts on my back and the prospect of a potential smother made all this just a bit worthwhile. I could feel her arms wrapping around my mine and she was locking in a full nelson. As she slowly gained position, I knew what was coming. The inescapable Full Nelson Camel Clutch. Sometimes an opponent will rear back and bring their foe down but Upton wasn't playing games. She pulled me back and kept pulling back, the pain in my lower back was excruciating. I finally screamed out a submission and Upton finally let go, but the damage had been done as I rolled over. The relentlessness continued as Upton stood above me and dropped all of her weight onto my stomach, deflating me comically. I never like those photos and videos when somebody gets hit and they comically puff their cheeks and act like that but this was legit. Upton stared down at me and put one finger out, then two and for some stupid reason, I put my shoulder up.
"Oh well, more pain for you," Upton said in a giddy tone. Upton grabbed my ankles, spread my legs and mercilessly stomped my crotch twice with her wrestling boot, I could do nothing but howl and curl into a fetal position. Upton wasn't done, not by a longshot. Upton dragged me to the ropes and slumped me on the middle ropes and whispered "That was my attempt at a mercy kill you dumb bitch," before taking off, leaping and full weight on my shoulder blades. That drew a scream as messed with my pain and even added a few paintbrush slaps. I was powerless in the face of her power as she got me up and forced me into the corner. First, she used the tag rope (I'm not even asking anymore) and choked me a bit with it. Not enough to put me out and thank god not enough to kill me, just enough to hinder me. Upton reared back her forearm and smashed it three times into my chest, while she lacked the chest caving power of Jade Cargill, she packed the quite the punch. I was holding my chest as Upton delivery a couple boots into my stomach, each one just as powerful as the last. I was on autopilot so the stomach pain wasn't registering in mind, or it was and I just forgot about it. I was barely standing at this point, knees were incredibly weak when Upton playfully slapped me back to reality. Then it finally happened.
The smother.
While I prefer a grapevine smother (If I absolutely have to), this was Upton grabbing my hair and forcing my face into her breasts. Exhilarating. While it lacked the build-up of some of them, having those things on my face? Man, that was amazing. Sure, I was losing air, but getting smothered by Kate Upton? Awesome. Finally, Upton relented, I wasn't going out until she said I was going out. Upton stepped out onto the apron, climbed up the ropes and was seated right above me. She wrapped her legs around my throat and began to violently squeeze with a figure-four headscissors. It was a slow agonizing session of pain as I found myself gagging on my own spittle. I could see that Upton was supporting herself with her hands, so she couldn't increase the pressure by grabbing her foot. I knew at the end of the day, she had thoroughly dominated me at this point and I had finally gone out.
The image looked like something you'd see on any mixed wrestling website. A vanquished male, passed out, a body language reading that he had been outclassed by his female opponent. Ensnared in the legs of the female conqueror, a voluptuous blonde woman, dressed skimpily, breasts barely contained by the fabric over them. The female warrior, flexing her biceps in a confident victory pose...
BUT IT WASN'T OVER YET!
"Fall one goes to me," Upton said while checking on me. I was out, as she got off the top turnbuckle. "Fall two was set to begin...RIGHT NOW!"
Upton said confidently as she smashed her knee into my stomach, waking me out of my slumber. I was slumped over her knee, trying to catch what little breath I had left in my body. I could feel Upton taking my shirt off, but I gave little to no resistance. Bad memories of what happened against Plaza began to flash but I couldn't linger on those as I saw Upton tying my hands up against the ropes. She was using the tag ropes! Upton also stomped on both feet, eliciting screams but it was a good tactic. It nullified me trying to block any blows as my stomach and chest took a buffet of kicks, shoulders punches and knees that hadn't been since Fayth took on Sleeperkid in Mixed Dreams: Losing Fayth. I could do nothing but take the blows, groaning as Upton drove the breath out of me with each strike. I knew that giving up couldn't do anything since the last time I did that, the match continued. Upton finally finished the barrage with you guessed it, a karate chop to the neck. While I may have overhyped the effects of the move, a precision strike to the side of the neck is still a bitch of a move to take. The restraints broke as I crashed to the mat, the areas of my body that hurt were just too many to count. Upton even did a mock boxing count before dragging me up at the count of nine, "saving the day". She dragged me to the middle of the ring, told me to put up my dukes and promptly brought down her bikini, telling me to hit her with one. While her breasts did look magnificent, it was a ruse as she bounced around, avoiding my sluggish and distracted punches. This was Kate having fun with me and the fun ended with another powerful cross that I was left open for. It sent me into the ropes and I had fallen onto the bottom rope. Upton walked over and place her boot on my throat. No pressure, just another show of dominance. Upton pushed me out of the ring and I hit the mat with a splat. Upton finally followed, waited till I was up and holding onto the apron and launched a wicked kick into my exposed stomach. By now it was putty, redder than a fire hydrant and the blow put me down right away. This was truly the worst pain I had felt as Upton stood above me, wearing a menacing grin. She grabbed my hand, dragged me to up and rolled me back into the ring. I got back back up and saw that Upton had taken off into the ropes and smashed me with a lariat, which is quite different from a clothesline, a clothesline is when you hold your arm out. A lariat is your opponent throwing their arm with all their might and I took it right in the face. I just fell to the canvas, holding my face as I felt the increasing pain in my mouth and nose. Upton paced around my body, telling me to get back up and finally lost patience and forced me and right into a match ending bearhug. All I could do was holler and groan, I was firmly in her control as she lifted me off the floor. The only consolation prize was staring at her breasts, a little bit of pain and pleasure she said. She dragged it out as she continued to squeeze whatever life I had left out of my body, I finally passed out on her shoulder. Upton wasn't satisfied with the drawn out dominance and kept the squeeze on for a bit more. She finally dropped me to the floor like a sack of potatoes and placed her boot directly on my face. I thought it was over but Upton lifted that boot up and smashed it into the side of my face. The pain was staggering, but she forced me up, looked in my eyes, unloaded one last boot that bent me over. She placed her legs over my head, got her hands around my waist, lifted me up and smashed me into the mat, head-first with a piledriver. Now, I was out. I did as much as humanly possible to protect my neck, but the move finally put me out of my misery. Upton seemed happy, kneeled down and lifted my arm three times for the 1,2,3. No pose, just her soaking in the dominance of an opponent who said she wasn't famous enough for a match.
1995.
The New Generation is running on Diesel power and I'm running to my phone when I got a beep on my beeper. My job is very interesting, some would say it's unique and others would so it's grotesque. My job, it to quite simply do the job. Celebrities, mostly females need a way to relive their stress, sometimes it's hitting a heavy bag and most of the time...I'm said heavy bag. The call was that Jennifer Connelly, star of Labyrinth and later adult and very attractive star of The Rocketeer, Of Love and Shadows, The Hot Spot and Career Opportunities wanted a "session". I wasn't going to deny the raven haired voluptuous beauty the opportunity.
I jumped in my car, went to her place and was welcomed in by my future destructor. Folks, I'm not hear to have a competitive match, I'm hear to get my ass kicked. Pin me, pay me, except I'm not getting pinned. After I'm knocked out or some form of a victory pose. Jennifer was pleasant enough, the first few minutes of chit chat and tour are always nice memories, it's usually the ensuing match I try to forget.
I ventured to a large empty room with gym mats already on the floor. It seems like a cliche that most celebrities have these, but then again this series is full of cliches. I wore what was comfortable so not spandex wrestling gear but a pair of shorts and a t-shirt with socks. Jennifer came in wearing a silk robe as she stood across from me as she disrobed. A black lace pair of bra and panties and when she bent over to pick her robe up, folks it was a thong (She has a nice posterior for a white girl in the 90s). I remember the picture of her in a magazine shoot, her bare breasts covered and pressed against a mirror, you know what I'm talking about.
You know, THAT PHOTO
(https://www.globalgoodsshopping.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/63180ebdc91e3755fe71b0c9-729x941.jpg)
I'm pretty sure I gave my computer the computer equivalent of a heart attack when I first downloaded that photo in all its glory. Now, I'm having a heart attack seeing this, my heart racing as I saw her hands reach behind. With one swift move, she had undone her bra and now, I was staring at a fully topless Connelly, a devilish grin on her face. As she stepped forward, I already knew the match was lost. The bounce had me entranced, even more as she warmed up staring at me the whole time. Yogi Berra once said: "Baseball is 90 percent mental. The other half is physical."
Yogi Berra never fought a topless Jennifer Connelly.
We began our little match and in the first few moment, I knew the match was lost. I tried to shoot in you know yo give the poor old Jobber some hope. It's an agreed upon ass whooping, but even the guys on TV get some offense. Well this wasn't that type of TV match, Connelly met my takedown attempt with a straight up knee to the head. Her knee connected with my forehead and I went down in a heap. I could hear an "OH SHIT" and I choose to believe it was an accident. In fact it was as she backed off and I desperately tried to gain my bearings. I could've faked getting really woozy, called it a day and walk the way with the memory of seeing Jennifer Connelly topless, but that's bad customer service. Instead, I got back up and shook it off. This is the 1990s dammnit! Concussions aren't real and only used as an excuse by lazy football players! We restarted again, this time I withheld the urge to dive in and again get a knee to the head. I could see a bit of apprehension on her face but I gave the I'm good signal.
I shouldn't have done that.
Connelly grabbed my wrist and threw me to the ground with a fancy wrist throw. I blame Judo Gene Lebell for that. Why couldn't he set up in Wisconsin and not California? I tried to brace myself but my back hit the mat hard, the padding was little, the pain was a lot. The lower end of my back took the brunt of the blow and little pockets of pain erupted. I got back up and that look of apprehension had dissipated. She grabbed a headlock and my face brushed against her breasts, a rather nice feeling compared to have my head squeezed like a grape. I was trying to break free when she transitioned to a hammerlock, using both hands to rip my arm to an angle that God never intended. I was trying to break outburst felt her foot on the back of my knee, pushing it to the ground, soon the other followed. I could feel my arms being wrapped around my throat for a strangle hold, a self serve of pain. I could feel my throat being slowly crushed my by own arms, Connelly pulling upwards to increase the pain. I valiantly and by valiantly I mean completely fail to get upright. I began to feel woozy, the blood being cut off to my brain, my eyelids feeling heavier than a sumo wrestler. Connelly had planted her foot in my back, digging into my back just to add more pain. I finally blurted out a submission as she let go, leaving me to try and soothe my burning throat.
I got back up and faced off with her, Connelly bouncing around with enthusiasm, using her body to disarm and distract and it certainly was working. Between the knee, the throw, the lock and the strangle hold this was turning into a spectacularly bad day. This time Jennifer took me down, a very low ankle pick and I now found myself staring upwards at her. She was wearing the "I thought you were put some effort into this" smirk as she took a seat at my side. Connelly grabbed my arm and locked in that old armbar before the UFC came around. You know, one foot at the end of each shoulder and you just pull on it. It doesn't hurt, at all just a mild strain if you can call it that. I no sold the hold, Jennifer no doubt cursing whatever huckster told her it would be a good hold, but I paid for it. I could see her measuring me and I was absolutely confused, just kill me already. Jennifer waited my stomach was fully expanded from breathing and dropped both knees on it. I almost threw up from the pain, that was a calculated and cruel move. My face was beet red and any attempt to ball up was snuffed out as Jennifer straightened me out, this time dropping that ass of hers on my chess. It didn't hurt like a Yokozuna bonzai drop as he has a few hundred pounds of her, but the impact on my chest still made breathing tough. The fact that she didn't land on her feet and her legs splayed out made the impact even worse. Full on impact on my chest. Connelly's beautiful legs wrapped around my head for a seated headscissors. It made the chest pain even worse as she planted herself on it, pushing down even more. Connelly leaned back as she any fight left in me was sapped out by her shockingly powerful legs. The only positive? I got to stare at her breasts as I slowly went out. You might wondering, why not just tap? Well that little minx grabbed my arms preventing it. I finally eked out a verbal submission, this time though she wasn't releasing. I went out.
It wasn't over yet. I was out for mere moment before I could feel myself being pulled up by her. I had felt my shirt being taken off and thrown on the floor. I was a bit fuzzy as you could guess as I found myself pinned against the wall. I could see her bra in one hand and saw a coat hook above me. The dread was building in my mind as my hands were tied up. Not being able to defend myself is quite the scary predicament, a nightmare scenario. Jennifer measured me for a swift kick to the stomach, one of those kicks you'd see on a video cover. The leg fully extended pushing into my stomach causing my insides to scream. Which caused me to scream. Connelly finally let go as I thrashed and tried to free myself, a useless endeavor. This time it was a buffet of blows to the stomach and chest attempts to block with my legs failed, but it annoyed her. She grabbed her robe and used that to tie my legs together leaving me completely defenseless. I was exposed watching her legs, knees and fist penetrate my body leaving a variety of red marks, each blow coinciding with cries of pain bellowing out. Any fight left in me was gone, dead and buried in some unmarked grave. I was hanging there like a piece of meat that just happened to be brutalized by Rocky Balboa. Jennifer stepped back and took it all in, my eyes staring down, I could barely keep them open. Pain racked throughout my entire body as she stepped towards me. Jennifer pinned me against the wall, like a rock and a hard place but the rock didn't place her breasts on my face. Unlike some smothers that have you feeling your on cloud nine, this was a painful smother. Maybe because of my bound predicament that I found my body fighting everything. I could see that Jennifer was enjoying it, perhaps this was the plan the whole time. After a painful smother session, my body and mind finally gave out and I mercifully passed out. The restraints were undone and I felt my body crashing to the floor to a seated position as Jennifer placed her foot on top of my head and flexed the biceps, looking down at a defeated and dominated jobber.
December 1978
George Lucas can go to hell.
Straight to hell.
If it weren't for the idiotic Star Wars Holiday Special, I wouldn't be staring down a pissed off Lynda Carter. The Ultimate Woman, a statuesque goddess in human form. Wonder Woman herself and I'm wondering if I'm going to survive this encounter. You see, the abomination of a television special, ninety-eight minutes of awfulness bumped Wonder Woman off her usual Friday night time slot. It also bumped The Incredible Hulk off but thank lord I didn't get a call from Lou Ferigno's people. I'd wager a guess that Lynda doesn't have the greatest television contract and losing a primo Friday night payday hurt her a bit in the pocketbook. George Lucas was writing a check that my body was going to have to cash.
So of course, I stopped at a t-shirt shop and paid through the nose for a shirt with the Star Wars logo on it.If I'm going down, I'm going down swinging. All the blood in my face drained when the liaison who set this match up dropped the bomb on me: Lynda wants this to be in ring. Those asshole LeBells who promote wrestling in LA are friendly with Lynda and even gave her some elementary wrestling lessons when asked. All they asked for was Lynda to appear ringside for a few cards at the Auditorium, no questions asked. Possibly film a promo putting the great wrestling over, Most certainly no questions asked about why her sudden interest either. I was hoping for a hotel session since I won't get thrown around and the room is mine for the rest of the night. As long as I don't run up a huge room service bill.
George Lucas had been promoted to being an egg sucking dog.
Both LaBell's are egg sucking dogs. Even if Gene could twist me into a pretzel with ease.
I'm fucked.
Apologies for the language.
I arrived at the boxing gym excepting the dank and scummy gym you'd see in any boxing film post Rocky. Instead, this was the cleanest gym I've been in, all the equipment looked first class and the ring looked top notch. I nervously joked to my liaison if Lynda was going to wear her costume on the phone and I got a response in the tone of "You make a box of rocks look sentient." I put on the Star Wars shirt knowing full well it was ensure a painful demise. At least it'll be at the hands of Lynda Carter, a fantasy most men (and some women) will openly talk about experiencing in fifty years. Carter was already in the ring and her gear most certainly showed off her body. I believe she wore it on the show: A plunging black one-piece swimsuit. When she moved, everything moved if you catch my drift.
We chit chatted and everything was amicable until she saw my t-shirt. The smile faded and a look of scorn came over her. I didn't even know the rules but with that look, I figured the rules were: It's over when she says it's over. We locked up in the center of the ring until Carter powered me into the ropes. Lynda had about three inches on me and she was willing to push me around. Carter broke the lockup, forced my chin back and *TWHAP* smashed her forearm into the chest. Right into the logo. The sound of flesh smashing flesh filled the chest as my chest felt like it was on fire. I clutched my chest in pain as Carter forced my chin back, barked to move the hands and smashed her forearm into my chest again. Another sickening sound, this one resulted in my breathing getting short circuited. Carter wasn't done, putting both hands on the ropes, rearing back and hip checking my stomach twice. Each blow had my feet in the air and the amount of wind left in me was in the negatives. I was hunched over, the ropes trapping me as I tried to stay upright. Carter hooked her arm around my neck and viciously snap-mared me to the mat. This wasn't some hum rum Moolah mare, this was the type of mare that sent you flying. I hit ass first and a stinging pain went up my tailbone. I used to laugh at the story of my grandpa breaking his tailbone and well, karma is mean mother.
Carter backed off as I got back up, rather slowly after her opening barrage. I could see her pacing in the corner like a caged animal. I walked to the center of the ring and she charged me. I envisioned the worst, my head getting knocked off with a clothesline but she instead scooped me up. The visuals made us look like a lowercase t as I expected to be slammed. Instead I was hauled up and dropped on my left arm, my full body weight crashing onto it. I felt a dull and numbing pain and instantly realized this wasn't a screwup, it was a tactic. Carter hauled me up and whipped me hard from corner to corner, she didn't just whip me from one corner. She walked me and then whipped me over so hard I went end-over-end before crashing down on the mat. Carter did this three more times, my body being sent crashing hard into the corner, going end-over-end. I know what you're thinking, an Irish Whip is the fakest wrestling move alive. Why am I going along with it? One, I'm getting paid a-lot of money for this. If she wants to Irish Whip me, I will go along with it. Two, if I don't go along with it that will just incentivize her to bring the pain. I don't need that, I'm in plenty of pain already.
I was so winded by the last one that I barely made it up. I stumbled out of the corner to only eat shoulder from a charging Carter. The blow sent me out of the ring and to the apron. I wanted to lay down and just die but Carer barked at me to get back up. I obliged as she hooked me up for a suplex? Absolutely not. I blocked it and well you know what? That just angered her, I ate a few blows across the shoulder blade to force the break as she hauled me up, walked me backwards and held me there. It was a delayed suplex and she held me up there for an eternity (or five seconds) before I crashed down on the mat. I laid there motionless, groaning as little eruptions of pain occurred all over my back. Carter pinned me and pulled my shoulder up right after she said one. Obviously the match wasn't done as she hauled me up, hooked me up for a suplex and this time dropped me gut first on the steel cables masquerading as ring ropes. I felt like throwing up my lunch upon impact as she demanded that I held myself up. I could see her in the corner, rearing back as she ran forward and planted a knee. I just barely blocked it but it sent me off the ropes and tumbling to the floor. I laid on the cold floor which soothed my aching back staring up at the ceiling. I could see Carter standing in the center, hand on her hips, legs spread out like a wrestling terminator. I rose and rolled into the ring, ready for another stanza in this poem of pain.
Carter grabbed me right away, scooped me up and slammed me to the mat. Any soothing work the cold floor did was wiped out. Carter picked me up and slammed me a second and then a rapid fire third slam. Each slam sapping the life out of me as I laid at her feet, my back on fire as this point. I could feel the spasms as she planted her foot on my chest, counting me out. This time, I got a two count before she broke the pin. Carter took off into the ropes, jumped high and planted me with a splash sucking any air out of me. My insides felt like they were being crushed in a compactor. Carter laid beside me and slinked those beautiful legs around my waist for a side scissors. The same stomach that just took the fury of her weight were now being crushed by a pair of powerful legs. I tried to break the hold and it infuriated me that she had this blase look on her face as I wore a mask of pain. Carter was cranking the hold and I gave up to only regret that.
Carter forced me up and to the ropes. I was shot in and off the rebound I was hauled up, twirled and dropped across her knee with a backbreaker. The sound of my back cracking on her knee was sickening. Carter could've bent me across her knee but she let me lay there, I was a symbol of her dominance. She pushed me off as I pathetically fell to the mat. I was back up on my feet in a complete daze, my body was running on muscle memory at this point. Carter forced me against the ropes again and this time trapped my arms between the top and middle rope. My knees were bent and I could feel my abdomen was bent a bit. My stomach was the perfect target for a brutal barrage of blows from her. The amount of strikes was in the double digits as knees, feet and fists flew in a fury. Each blow electing pain and my body spasming in response. I wanted to break free but the ropes were ultra-tight and I found myself bound and defenseless. The barrage ended and Carter walked away from the battered husk that I became. My abdomen was inflamed from the punishment, my head was down low and my feet were barely keeping me upright. The Miss USA winner wasn't done as she scooped me like I was nothing, walked me to the corner and dropped me face first on the buckle for a snake eyes. My head bounced off it and I felt sharp pains as I stumbled into Carter. She grabbed me by the hair to hold me in place, reared her arm back and killed me with a vicious lariat. The type to scramble brains and make Japanese wrestling announcers scream "LARIATO" repeatedly. The blow sent me to the mat and I was barely alive at this point, my nose and mouth had a stinging pain that didn't go away until an hour after this wrapped up. There was I was though, being hauled back up for more punishment. A stiff kick to the stomach bent me over and she put me between her legs. Any move in this position would be a match ender. This wasn't a move, it was another submission. I was hauled up into the "Canadian Backbreaker" as I found myself being bent over her shoulder. I felt the blood rushing to my head as I screamed out over the middle section of my back taking the damage. I couldn't do much but try to kick my legs up to escape and that ANGERED her. How dare I try to break free! My body was at the point of giving in until she decided it was enough and dropped me like a sack of potatoes. Right? WRONG. Carter instead turned it into a powerbomb and I took the full brunt of it on my neck and shoulders. I even did a little flip over to sell the sheer power. I was a ball of flesh and pain at her feet, wishing she would end this torture. Lynda was using these moves to show off her power over a pathetic male weakling who dared to challenge her. It was pretty hot actually, not going to lie.
What would be next on the wheel of torture?
A. Bearhug
B. Torture Rack
C. I'm at her will.
If you guessed C, then you get a cookie.
I was forced back up and she lifted me in the air for a military press. I was frozen in fear wondering about my landing. On my back? On my front? Was she going to press me out of the ring? Carter held me up there, the suspense building to a crescendo as she dropped me with a gorilla press. I crashed down face first in a fiery thud and at first I didn't feel anything. Then it hit and the pain was all over, nearly crippling me. I couldn't do much, I wouldn't do much and I think that was her plan the whole time. I laid there for an eternity as she looked down on her broken prey before finally dragging me up. I think she wanted to give me the sense it was finally over but it wasn't. Carter wrapped her arms (and trapped mine) around my body and scooped me up for a bearhug. I took my feet off the ground and bended my knees to sell her power. Powerless in the face of death is nothing compared to being powerless in the face of a Lynda Carter bearhug. Carter was going to break me in this hug, force me to the point of being unconscious and then take away the slight delight of this being over. I began screaming in the hold but those gave way to yells and eventually guttural moans as the predicament continued. Just as I suspected when my body was at the point of giving in she dropped me to the mat as I writhed in pain. I was immediately hauled up and placed on her shoulders in a torture rack, Carter violently racking my back as I screamed and stared at the ceiling. SHE SQUATTED ME LIKE IT WAS NOTHING. I was being walked around the ring like it was nothing, imagining there was a full crowd taking all this in. They would be laughing at my pain, in awe of her strength and the calls from the gallery for my execution. The mind was weak, the body was even and weaker and the soul of the fighter was at its weakest. I was went unconscious finally and when Carter saw my arm flailing, she dropped my battered and broke body to the mat.
It was finally over.
I laid there as she pinned and counted me out to a TEN COUNT to drive home her dominance.
Merry Christmas.