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Holly Walker vs Chantelle LaBelle

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Offline Jobber5000

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Holly Walker vs Chantelle LaBelle
« on: October 22, 2015, 02:16:41 AM »
Holly pulled her dyed blonde hair into a ponytail as she stood in the makeshift bathroom/dressing room before the match. She hadn't wrestled in front of a crowd since college when she had been 10 years younger and about 30 pounds lighter. She still had the same outfit, a light blue 2 piece that fit much more snugly now than she remembered. Looking at herself under the white light she became acutely aware of her fleshy body and noticed that even though her feminine shape could still turn heads, where she used to have definition she had grown softer. Her belly protruded in a soft wave over her tight bikini now and her alabaster thighs, almost translucent save the light red coursing through her pale, soft, white, rubbed together now and were dimpled with cellulite. Her once perky breasts, still large and shapely, were stuffed into her too small top and spilled out the sides and along with her arms, hips and butt, jiggled with every movement. When she wore her work clothes at the bar, normally short black shorts and a black tank top, she could hide some of what she had let slide but in her wrestling gear she felt entirely exposed. A couple times in the bar back mirror on a busy night she'd see her belly protruding or catch a lecherous glance at her ass and feel that same sense of vulnerability she felt now. She turned to view her profile and lightly slapped her belly and sighed.

She turned away from the mirror and went over to the metal folding chair the staff had left in the room for the girls and sat down. The din outside grew and with it the butterflies in her stomach. She bounced her leg, the soft under-thigh spreading and shaking with each drop to the chair when she looked to the mirror and saw her belly rolls fold on top of each other and over the top of her suit. The soft mounds looked like small rolls of bread dough. Her breasts rested atop her soft folds awkwardly, like a bladder filled with fluid on an uneven surface. She turned her gaze to her face. She had kept her fair skin out of the sun most of her life and never drank much or smoked which kept her skin looking youthful. Full lips, a button nose, big brown eyes, a dusty spread of freckles dotted her cheeks and nose. She had been called a soft beauty all her life. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them and continued looking at her reflection. The tile floor was cold on her bare feet and they stuck a little from some nervous perspiration. She lifted them and put them back down on their sides, then flat. She took another look at herself and sighed again as she ran her hands over her belly, the same thoughts she always had began to plague her. Paul had left her because he thought she had let herself go. He was fit himself and a generally good guy, but he never really cared for her the way she hoped. Their relationship started at the bar and she saw him as an escape. Moneyed, fit and pretty nice, but within 6 months he had started cheating on her with someone from the gym. She dumped him as soon as she found out. It was never going anywhere and even though she knew that, it still stung. She hated the bar. This extra cash was just going to be more in savings. More to get her out of this rut. More towards going back to school to finish her nursing degree, if that was what she really wanted. She just knew that if she kept socking it away, she could get away. She shook herself out of her thoughts and was looking at her fleshy figure again. She could at least get to a salon to fix her homemade dye job with this cash. Job, she thought. That's what this is. She stood up and went to her bag to get her phone when the door opened.

Chantelle entered with a black designer gym bag slung over her shoulder and her rich, black and purple streaked hair weave straight down her back. She was wearing tight black designer jeans painted onto her huge behind, a leather jacket and matching black motorcycle boots. She was typing on her phone, sent the text to her boyfriend and looked Holly up and down, smiled and slightly shook her head. Holly returned the smile and turned her attention back to her school bag.

Chantelle was quickly making a name for herself on the Indy wrestling circuit but still seemed to get saddled with these soft jobbers. She had her face on all the posters, had tons of online followers, had her matches posted on forums and her pictures downloaded thousands of times and still hadn't gotten any real shots at the other big names. Instead she always had the undercards against girls like she was looking at now: soft, fleshy, and weak. At least this girl was tall, but she had no muscle tone to her thighs. Her calves ran straight into her ankles. Her bent profile caused her cellulite dimpled belly to all but envelope her bikini bottom and there wasn't an ab in sight under the soft rolls. Her marbled arms weren't toned and even her baby face, cute in a white girl way, conveyed a sense of never having put her time in at the gym.

Mtc
Twitter: @jobber5000

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Offline Jobber5000

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Re: Holly Walker vs Chantelle LaBelle
« Reply #1 on: October 22, 2015, 03:15:32 AM »
Chantelle was quickly making a name for herself on the Indy wrestling circuit but still seemed to get saddled with these soft jobbers. She had her face on all the posters, had tons of online followers, had her matches posted on forums and her pictures downloaded thousands of times and still hadn't gotten any real shots at the other big names. Instead she always had the undercards against girls like she

She tossed her bag on the chair Holly had been sitting in and walked over to the mirror. She had applied her makeup in the car on the ride over. Dark red lips, dark almost purple eye shadow and some toner accentuated her high cheekbones. Her flawless and dark brown skin, her bright green eyes from her mother's side, and a long proud neck were all hers to flaunt in this industry where a unique look was half the battle. Where sexiness sold but selling a great finisher sold more. She could see her opponent in the reflection, now absorbed in her phone. She too had perfect skin, but the marked contrast in fitness and color made the match dynamic obvious. This big girl was in for a thrashing she wouldn't forget and the fans would love. Chantelle played it out in her mind and decided she would make an example of her. She would let Darren, the promoter, know she deserved a shot at the better fighters. She needed the fans to want her to fight the big girls, and she needed this girl to get there. She decided to feel her out and start this fight early. She turned and went to the chair to pull her boots off. Holly backed up a half step and met the cold painted cinderblock wall with a start.

"I'm Chantelle. I'm assuming we're fighting tonight?" she asked pulling off her first boot.

"Oh hey, yep I guess. I'm Holly" the other girl replied.

Holly hesitated, but then limply extended her small hand which Chantelle gripped tightly pulling Holly slightly off balance before releasing her. Holly hesitated again before stepping over to put her phone on the counter near the sink and rub her hand.

"So how long have you been wrestling?" Chantelle asked as she undid the straps of her other boot, sliding it off over the dark denim.

"Oh I did in college for fun but I've been out of it for a bit working here in town at a bar. Just figured I could use the cash. How about you?" Holly was directly opposite Chantelle and wasn't sure how to compose herself in the tight confines of the bathroom.

"A couple years now" she replied, standing and removing her jacket. The two girls were face to chin, with Holly standing about 4 inches taller than Chantelle.

She turned and reached into her bag and grabbed her the bikini bottom she'd been gifted by a fan, a black and purple high cut piece that was revealing but custom fit for her. She was gifted and cursed with small hips and a big ass that fans loved and bikini bottoms seemed to love escaping into. Most matches she was more worried about wedgies than she was her opponents. As she pulled her jeans off, Holly realized for the first time what she was up against. Chantelle's thighs were thick and toned. When she stood to slide her bottom on, her ass lifted on its own as if gravity had no rules over it. She snapped the bottom on and the fit was glorious. Holly's pace quickened as she became more and more aware of what she saw as her own inadequacies. She was obviously taller and heavier, but this bitch looked fit.

Chantelle say back down, removed a bottle of lotion from a gold zippered pocket on the bag and squirted it down her thighs and began to massage it in.

"You from around here?" Chantelle asked as she ran her hands down her toned calves, flexing every inch of the way, and back up behind her knees. Her bare foot brushing Holly who leaned against the counter, her fleshy bottom spreading beneath her.

"Oh yeah. I've been here all my life." She slid to the side to give the girl more room.

"Huh" Chantelle replied.

"And you?" Holly offered.

Chantelle pulled a knee high black and purple  leather boot from her bag, and began pulling it up her oiled leg.

"I was born and raised in New York and have traveled all over doing this. Been to Europe, Japan, Australia, LA - been living here for about a year. I met a guy but I'm only 24. You know how it is."

"Yeah." She didn't.

Chantelle then pulled her top off, her taut, perky breasts popping out beneath the tight shirt. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, taking a rubberband from around her wrist and looked up at Holly. She was staring at Chantelle's body, now barely covered in just her boots and bottom. Her flat stomach was toned but not overly muscled. Her breasts, somehow seemed to be the perfect size for her form. Big, but not fleshy. Perky and soft and the nipples, a shade darker than her skin, stood at attention. She shot more lotion onto her hand and oiled herself, knowing full well how this made her opponent feel.

"Mind getting my back" she asked, turning and holding the bottle out without waiting for an answer.

"Uhh, sure" Holly replied.

She squirted some lotion that smelled like coconuts onto her hand and began to timidly rub it onto Chantelle smooth skin. She could feel at once that the soft exterior belied a core strength that must have come from serious physical training. The muscles rippled beneath the even toned skin as Holly's clumsy, thick fingers wiped the last of the excess lotion up, leaving a thin film on her hands which she wiped on her inner thigh causing a sensation to ripple through her not unlike fear, but different.

Chantelle grabbed her top from her bag and pulled it on. A tight black and purple top counterpart to the bottom with small shiny rivets in a spiral pattern around the center. She clasped the back and pulled her hair out of the ponytail, running her hand through the long weave.

This girl lost before she even showed up, she thought. Her phone buzzed. It was Paul. He just got here with 2 of his buddies who apparently didn't believe he was dating a hot, black female wrestler.

"Small towns" she muttered as she replied "you shud c this girl I'm about 2 crush. Sum cow name Holly"

"Holly Walker?!?" came the immediate reply.

Chantelle grinned.

"You said your name was Holly? What's your stage name though" she said still looking at her phone.

Holly looked up from her own phone. "My last names Walker, so I guess just that? That's what I told the promoter anyway."

"Mmm" Chantelle murmured. This whole thing just got a lot better.

"K hun. I'll see you out there" smiled Chantelle and she picked up the leather bag and opened the door. The crowd had swelled by now and Holly's nerves kicked up to another degree she hadn't felt in years. Her heart raced, her pulse pounded and she began to feel pricks of sweat all over body. She turned again toward the mirror. She was taller and heavier than this little girl and she was going to need to use that to get advantage. She returned to her phone and saw that a few of the bar regulars and some coworkers checked in. This increased her nerves even more. All these people she knew were out there and then she froze. She knew she should have deleted him but she didn't and there he was. He had checked in just a minute after Chantelle walked out. She thought about leaving. She could just throw her jeans and tee back on and split. But the money, the chance to overpower and best this little fit brown girl, and show Paul and everyone else that she was more than just a soft beauty made her feel electric and just then Darren the promoter popped his Bluetooth outfitted head in the door after a quick knock.

"You ready Mary?"

"Holly"

"What?"

"My name is Holly."

"Right sorry. We didn't get intro music or anything for you do just head out. The ring announcer has your name. Good luck" and with that his head popped back out and she was alone with her reflection again.

She stepped out of the white glow of the dressing room and into the darkened staging area behind the seats. A heavy man with ruddy skin, a mottled nose, a gray bushy mustache and an old looking headset and microphone looked off into the middle distance but motioned to her to come over.

He put a heavy red hand with thick fingers on her bare shoulder while still listening to something from the headphones.

"You don't have a song or nothin" he asked, not unkindly.

"N-no. I didn't know I needed one" she replied, correcting her volume for the noise of the crowd.

"You don't but you should. You got a robe or jacket or anything" he replied.

"No, just what I came in."

"Ok then. Head on out and Sheila'll direct you to your corner."

"Sheila?"

"The ref hun."

"Right ok. Now?"

"Whenever you're ready."

As Holly exited the staging area she scanned the crowd looking for the familiar face she knew was out there. There were a lot more people than she expected. She started down the aisle and could feel eyes all over we body. She looked down as she tried to convey an air of confidence and saw her body jiggle and shake with each step. The pads beneath her bare feet were cold and squished in beneath her weight. Some of the kids in the audience came over to the low metal gate and extended their hands and smiles. Holly forgot about this aspect of it all. She was the one focused on her body in the skimpy bikini. To the crowd she was just another wrestler. As she passed the kids who had come out for a high five she saw her coworkers and regulars waving to her and yelling. The crowd was small enough that they could be clearly be heard yelling her name and hooting and hollering. She smiled and waved back as she reached the ring. Holly walked around the ring toward the stair when she crossed Paul. Their eyes met and he smirked and shrugged. Holly quickly turned her head and stepped up to the ring apron.

Bending over to climb between the top and middle rope, she once again became very aware of her body. The cool rubber rope sliding up the inside of her thigh, her belly exposed to her shouting friends and smirking ex. She was through and the ref directed her to the corner opposite Paul. She turned her back to the turnbuckle and rested her arms on the top rope. She had made it this far. The crowd was watching her and drinking beer and eating nachos and hot dogs. She could see men smiling and women nodding toward her when the lights went dark and a thumping beat began. The crowd erupted in cheers.

Chantelle ran down the aisle, her arm chopping through a thicket of excited outstretched hands as a spinning light fixture flashed colors across the crowd, ring and Holly. The girl in the ring watched as her opponent ran around the perimeter of the ring delivering high fives and, stopping at Paul, a big kiss. This elicited wild cheers from the crowd and congratulatory shoulder slaps and nudges from the guys around Paul. Holly felt like she could tear Chantelle in half at that moment. Chantelle then ran up the stairs to the apron and catapulted herself over the top rope, landing expertly on her feet. Her arms outstretched to her adoring, cheering fans.

When the lights came back on, Sheila the referee walked to the center of the ring. Sheila looked a little shorter than Holly and was probably about 140 pounds or so. She had long jet black hair-sprayed hair that she wore down over her tanned shoulders and wore a thick coat of makeup to mask a prematurely aging face. Her referee uniform consisted of a tight fitting black and white striped tank top and black boy shorts. She motioned to the ring announcer at the table.

"In this corner, wearing a baby blue bikini and weighing in at 165 pounds is Holly Walker!" The crackling mic spat out. The crowd clapped politely and Holly heard her friends hooting again. She should have lied about her weight, she thought.

"And in this corner, weighing in at just under 120 pounds is the beautiful, the dangerous, the altogether outrageous Ms. Chantelle LaBellllle" the man cried, dragging out the name to raucous cheers. Chantelle climbed up onto the turnbuckle, facing Paul now and outstretched her arms again. The crowd went wild with photo flashes and cheers.

Holly's hopes sank quickly and she once again felt nervous fear prick at her skin. She was practically naked and about to fight a professional wrestler in front of hundreds of people with her only preparation being a decade of infrequent jogs and staff meals at the restaurant. The white overhead lights, bright and hot, began to make her nervous sweat real sweat and she felt small rivulets coursing between her breasts and down her belly into the top of her bikini. Her armpits began a similar expression of fear, running sweat streams down the inside of her arms, now crossed beneath her breasts. She pushed her hair behind her ears and rubbed the side of her nose.

Chantelle, meanwhile, commanded an air of confidence that only came with the knowledge of a victory she already had in the bag. Her dark, even toned skin glistened beneath the oil she has applied and her muscles flexed beneath the cushion of her thighs and ass. She hopped back and forth on her feet, twisting her hips, throwing quick punches and tossing her long black and purple locks around. She knew a couple promoters were here tonight and she knew she had this big old jobber dead to rights. Holly was nervous and out of shape and that meant she was vulnerable. She knew not to underestimate an opponent, but she also knew a fish when she saw one.

The ref turned to Holly and pointed. She nodded. She then turned to Chantelle and did the same before turning to the announcer and the bell rang.

Chantelle stalked to the center of the ring as Holly, half on fear and half because of that kiss, ran to meet her. Chantelle seeing this opportunity easily ducked beneath the bigger girls clumsy grasp and, grabbing Holly's hand moved behind her, yanking her arm in an armbar up against her back. Holly doubled over in pain, reaching across her sweat streaked chest to grasp at the burning shoulder. Chantelle, seeing a chance for a little more psyching out, walked the jiggling mass of white girl toward corner, now right in front of Paul. Holly was still bent, rolls of her soft belly glistening with sweat twisted as she searched for a way to get her arm out when she felt a strong oiled leg slide across her thigh and wrap beneath her knee. Her captured arm still bent was released but before she could make sense of what was happening, Chantelle's smooth arm crossed Holly's throat, pulling her head back and exposing her soft white stomach to the audience - and the worst part was that Holly could see Paul enjoying it. As she struggled to move, wrapped up in the taut grip of the smaller girl, she met Paul's eyes. Another smirk and a shrug as he pulled out his phone and took a picture. More flashes lit up the scene with the smiling smaller black girl grapevined across the back of the grimacing larger blonde, her body flashing whiter with each camera flicker.

After another moment of torture, Chantelle released Holly, letting her own momentum drop her into the corner. The blonde, breathing heavily, dropped her arms limp over the rope and hung her head to catch her breath. She saw her pulsing belly, heaving with breath. Her right thigh and wrinkly knee, straight up and down while her left, the leg that had until recently played host to her opponents oiled leg, was aching around the knee. That was when she realized that she was still in a fight and that the crowd had once again started cheering. Holly turned around to see the voluptuous dark skinned girl just 2 steps away and at a full run leap chest first into her, smashing her outstretched into the turnbuckle and knocking the wind out of her. Chantelle hopped back nimbly and watched the lurching, jiggling girl lumber out from the corner, arms limp at her side, but before letting her collapse to the mat on a heap, Chantelle put her perfectly manicured hand against Holly's face, her mouth slightly agog and her eyes rolling and gently pushed her back into the corner. Holly fell back into the corner, arms draped over the ropes and breathing heavily. She knew she was in trouble but thought if she could just catch her breath she could get some of her strength back and at least throw a punch or two. Once again she tried pulling herself up but dropped her heavy arms back down from the effort.

As she slumped in the corner, head lolling, Chantelle climbed the turnbuckle and pulled her head back by her blonde hair. Oh shit, Holly thought. The smaller girl's body heat emanated from her and Holly could smell her sweat and oil. She knew what this looked like to the audience and could once again see the flicker of camera flashes as blow after blow rained down on her. The hits were open handed and didn't so much hurt as ring her bell, rattling her brain inside her head and leaving her dazed and punch drunk. Her view of Chantelle now was of a woman in control, her arm raised up for the final blow. Chantelle's view as she looked down at her prey was an open mouth and unfocused eyes. She had just taken 9 vicious blows to the head, after all. But as Chantelle prepared the final chop, Holly whispered up at her.

"Paul. You stole Paul."

"Honey, he was hitting on me for 3 months before I finally gave in. I'm only going to hit on you for 10 minutes. You need to take up that shit with him" she replied. She then dropped the final blow on to Holly's head causing her nearly limp body to flop again underneath the smaller girl. Chantelle again hopped back from the corner and this time let Holly step out and drop like a tree to the mat. Holly was a panting, sweating mess with her arms straight against her sides and her hair spread out from her head. Every part of her felt like dead weight. Like she couldn't lift a finger if she wanted to. Her legs weakly kicked as she vainly attempted to get some strength back.

Chantelle stepped over her and once again climbed the turnbuckle and threw up her arms.

Holly, using all her strength, rolled over onto her back to see the powerful woman silhouetted against the flash of the cameras, her own pale skin glistening with sweat under the lights. Her belly rose and fell with her heavy breathing, her thighs jiggling as her legs dropped to the mat under the weight of her inability to lift them. She tried rousing herself but found she needed another moment to catch her breath, letting her head drop back onto her blonde pile of hair on the mat.

After another couple breaths she felt Chantelle hop back down by the shaking of her body on the mat. The sweat was now in full force, pouring out of her and running across her body and pooling in her deep navel. She felt her head clear a little and rolled over onto her side and raised herself up onto her hands and knees. When she saw the black and purple boots on either side of her hands, she knew she made a mistake. But before she could start to rectify it, she felt strong arms lift her by her armpits, stuffing her head in between the thick black thighs and forcing her up onto her feet. She could hear the crowd  cheering and see more picture flashes as she realized she was basically putting her huge ass on display for Paul. She stamped her feet trying to escape but only succeeded in jiggling her ass to the crowds obvious satisfaction. The grip of Chantelle's strong thighs around her head muffled the cheers but the laughing and jeers were obvious. All this time Chantelle, mugging for the camera, hamming it up while throwing Hulk poses and victory stances, was thinking of how to end the match to best move her career up. She needed to do something that people would be talking about, and something they could post all over the Internet. She looked down at the wide, sweating back of this white girl and she almost felt sorry for her. She'd pay her back for tonight and do right by her, but for now she needed to use this doughy jobber for likes, favs and retweets. She needed her to be the guy in the basketball poster with his face in the stars crotch getting dunked on. She ran her hands past the small of Holly's sweating back to her sweat stained bikini bottom and yanked as she fell backwards. The impact, though softened by Chantelle's voluminous bottom, was enough to ring Holly's bell again, causing her to pop back up and dazedly collapse back into the turnbuckle, her long glistening legs splayed out in front of her. Holly once again felt she just needed a second to clear her head and catch her breath and she could mount some kind of last ditch effort, but remembered what happened last time and looked up just in time to see Chantelle's opened legs and big round butt smash right into her chest, and then to add a mortifying insult to injury, bounce up and down on her chest before coming to a stop and sitting on her. The humiliating move had knocked the wind out of her, leaving her weak and limp beneath the lithe wrestler, but she was still conscious. She could again smell the coco butter she had helped the girl apply earlier and the faint animal scent of sweat behind it. She once again heard the crowd cheer and saw the cameras flash. She knew Paul's was too but even that humiliation seemed pale in comparison to being powerless beneath this small girl and her big ass. To lying in a sweaty heap while a better girl whipped your ass and then sat on top of you. Her head was ringing, she was out of breath and her arms and legs just uselessly flopped in protest. This needed to end and after all that, Holly finally realized how.

"Just finish me already. Just end it. I, just, you win" she sighed. The heat of Chantelle's thighs and crotch were beginning to make her even more drowsy.

"It's coming honey, don't you worry" came the reply as Chantelle hid her communication beneath her long shining hair. She pushed Holly's hair back and looked her. She really was quite pretty. Her full cheeks were flushed and sweaty now, and her eyebrows could use a trim, but yeah - doe eyes, full pouting lips, a straight little button nose. She could have been a catalog model or some other mid-level gig like that. Not unique, but pretty.

Chantelle then hopped off Holly who remained slumped in the corner. Her breasts rising and falling on top of the small rolls of sweating stomach fat, which is where Chantelle placed her big black boot. Square between her heaving breasts and on the top rolls of her exposed, sweating belly she gave an overly exaggerated neck slice symbol which drew the crowd into hysterics. Holly, now completely defeated, just grimaced, realizing her place beneath the boot of this small, black phenom. She never stood a chance against this girl and that point was never driven home harder than right now - totally conscious and completely powerless. She felt the boot lift from her and allowed herself to slide out of the turnbuckle and onto her side, her gut splayed out and her head resting on her soft arms. Her thick legs slowly turned as her body twisted and one ended up hanging off the ring apron. She was the picture of defeat.

In the next instant she felt herself being pulled up by her sweaty blonde hair, now a nest on her head held together by the fist of this tiny black girl. She was on her feet now, bent slightly under the fist of Chantelle where she could see again the small paunch of her jiggling belly folding over her bikini bottom and twisting as she was pulled. Her jiggling thighs, drunkenly stepping toward the center of the ring as she followed a confident Chantelle like a dog on a leash, seemed to bounce even more beneath the sheen of sweat and that backdrop of the blue mat. Her arms hung limp in front of her swaying with each step. She was utterly under Chantelle's control.

This was exactly what Chantelle wanted. The white girl needed to be on her feet for her final move, LaBelle Ringer. She'd come off the rope and lay this big beauty spread eagled in the center of the ring and pin her with no more than a boot on her chest. It would be a picture worth a thousand tweets. She could hear the crowd starting to cheer, a sure sign they were ready for this to end too. Chantelle walked up to the swaying girl, basically out on her feet, and held her face by her chin. Holly murmured.

"What's that honey?"

"I said who's that" she sighed.

Just then, as the crowd cried out, Laika, another wrestler in the company, slid under the bottom rope carrying a folding chair. The referee whose back was turned, was the first to go down as Laika laid the chair across her back sending her face first to the mat. Laika then tossed the chair at Chantelle who caught it and then promptly ate it as Laika drop kicked the chair sending Chantelle and the chair tumbling backwards through the ropes. Laika, a tall, thick Latina wore a black shoulderless bikini clasped with interlocking gold hoops between the top and bottom. She stood nearly 6 feet tall and showed massive core strength though she didn't appear muscled. She finally seemed to notice the punch drunk girl standing barefoot and swaying in the ring after a moment.

She smiled as she climbed out of the ring and hoistedChantelle, unconscious after taking the chair to the face, back into the ring. She dragged the smaller girl by her arms and dropped her in front of Holly, who was just shaking the cobwebs out now. As Holly began to absorb what was happening in front of her, Laika lightly slapped the ref and roused her. As Sheila sat up, Laika grabbed Holly, now an unwitting player in this game, by the hair and power bombed her across the body of Chantelle knocking Holly out and leaving her on top of Chantelle. Laika then rolled out of the ring just as the ref turned to see the scene. Counting off the three, the crowd raged. Chantelle, coming to first, shoved to sweaty girl off of her leaving her spread eagle on the mat.

"Are you serious Sheila?? Does it look like that cow won? Did you see the whole match before you mysteriously got knocked out and woke up to see her pin me??"

The ref was now rousing Holly and just shrugged, to which Chantelle responded by grabbing her by the hair, pulling her up to stand and pulling her shirt up over her head. The tanned stomach was just begging for it now with Sheila's arms and head wrapped up in the tank top, do Chantelle landed blow after huge blow to her tan stomach doubling her over and allowing her to be walked over to Holly who was just coming to. Chantelle then took the Sheila's shirt off altogether and tossed it onto Holly's face before shoving Sheila's head down, gripping her around the waist and lifting her upside down and nailing her with a pile driver  right into Holly exposed belly. Holly let out a huge groan And writhed near Sheila who was out cold in a heap in the center of the ring.

"Laika, you're a dead woman. You messed up my record vs. this fish? I'm gonna kill you for that" and she dropped the mic, shot a pissed off look at Holly and stormed out as her music kicked on. Holly sat up after a moment and crawled over on her hands and knees to Sheila. She eventually roused the tan girl and as she stood, much to Holly's surprise, she raised her arm. Holly was shocked. She had no idea what happened but the purse for winning was $2000!

Maybe wrestling was something she could do after all...


Twitter: @jobber5000