[RedEnforcer]

*The intro graphics begin with a stirring original piece of music and random highlights of wrestling action throughout the years. Ending with a live shot of the crowd gathered and an eruption of pyro.  The camera then goes to the announce table where two men in suits are standing by.*

Bob Weaver:  LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, Welcome to FCF Unlimited!!!!

Johnny Caudle:  Bob, the fans here in the Greensboro Coliseum are hyped and ready for an amazing debut of a brand new form of wrestling!

BW: That's right fans, tonight you're going to see the best FCF wrestlers around competing against each other with no limits on weight class, age or even gender.

JC: And where most places kick things off with standard opening matches, tonight we are going to witness the crowning of the first FCF Unlimited Champion!

BW: We have two worthy contenders from different places across the globe and tonight they are going to fight it out for the belt!

JC: Belt?

BW: Just calling it a title is ridiculous when it's obviously a title belt.

JC: True.

BW: We have a newcomer to this area in "The Golden Dynamo" Kat Dahl taking on someone who might have a home field advantage in the Red Enforcer.

JC: Well he would if anyone here liked him. He's famous in these parts for being a complete @$$----

BW: Johnny!

JC: Fine fine. Personal feelings aside, we know what we're going to get with the Enforcer. Lots of cheating but not too sure what we'll get from The California Doll.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

As the announcers and production goes off I'm in the back in my locker room changing. Peeling off my Red's Gym t-shirt and stripping off my Wranglers.  I look in a mirror and grin.  Back at it again after some time off. And against a new challenger. I give a wistful glance to a post-it note on my locker with a message from my Angel. I sigh and wish she were around.

But then I see my mask and grab it. All other emotions besides intensity slip away.  I put it on and become a new man. Focused on one thing. Winning the title. 

I strip out of my boxers and grab my classic black wrestling trunks with Enforcer scrawled in red on them. I step through the leg holes and feel the familiar material sliding up my calves and my tensed thighs. My body seems as excited as my mind is as I grab my socks and put them on. Then my classic black boots go on, laced to the top with a stylish RE on both sides.  I get out the black tape and slowly wrap it around my wrists one at a time. 

I'm all set. Just waiting for them to call my name. But first, the new girl is going to be welcomed by the crowd. I wait to hear their reaction to see how they think she's going to be.

It's Showtime.

[jake1990]

Cool thread!

[Katherine The Great]

"If you're going to hang your hat somewhere, Kit-Kat, always make sure it's on the top peg!"

I can still hear Daddy telling me that....among other corny sayings he'd impart to me as I was growing up and training in the wrestling biz. I was never quite sure, exactly, what that one meant, but I guess it was "shoot for the top" or something like that. Well, that's my intention tonight. I've been at FCF for almost a year now..took on some winners and plenty of losers in my quest for the top tier and the championship. Then, word came down that the championship was totally up for grabs and I heard a loud noise in the distance.

The loud noise was opportunity.

And it was knocking.

No, scratch that...it was pounding the door with a battering ram. So, being the ambitious sort that I am, I answered...dodging the battering ram, by the way.

The challenge was thrown out and I caught it, not even caring that it was against a man who was built like a linebacker and outweighed me by fifty five pounds. That sort of thing never bothered me. My background in powerlifting left me stronger than most girl and a few guys. I also had some experience in the Family League, with my parents, where I'd throw grown men and women around the ring on a nightly basis. Wrestling guys never bothered me...provided they were in it for the match and not to get off by having a girl whip their ass. No, this "Red Enforcer" I had heard of and knew he wasn't in it for anything but the fight. All business in the ring and business was nasty. Word had it that he was a heel's heel and wasn't above doing whatever he needed to do to win.

That suited me just fine.

I've been seen as both a "face" and a "heel", though I just considered myself a brat. I did what I wanted to do and if you got in my way....you paid.

Tonight, I plan on making this hunk of muscle pay and I'm taking nothing but cash. Now is the time....no personal checks accepted.

I stand behind the thick, black, curtain, hopping on my toes and shaking my arms out. 36C-24-37 curves looking like they were poured into the shiny gold one piece I'm sporting for this main event. The front cut into a severe "V", down to my navel, laced with an "X" of string at my bountiful cleavage. Cut high on the hips, it curves over them and covers about one third of my firm, round, glutes. My thick thighs and legs encased in a fine, black, pair of fishnets with golden knee pads over my knees and golden mid calve boots completing my look. They have black soles, black laces and the word "DOLL" down the sides in fancy black script.

Tupac's California Love blasts from the old P.A. speakers and that's my cue. I burst through the curtains and jog down the ramp to the ring area, my aforementioned glutes and firm C cups lightly jiggling along. I even slap a few hands and give a few winks as I lap the ring while the announcer grabs the mic....

"Tonight's Main Event is for the FCF World Title. The challenger hails from the Bay Area and is the current Dahl Haus champion. She stands five foot three. She weighs...." I shoot him a warning look "...umm....one hundred and thirty pounds" I smile and nod  "The Battling Barbie.....The Princess of Punishment....The Golden Dynamo.....she's The Callllliforrrrrnia Dollllllll!!"

I grab the middle rope and tug it down, using the spring to leap up to the apron, stomping the black soles of my boots to the apron before ducking between the ropes and taking my corner. I fluff up my thick, mid back length golden blonde hair and flash the crowd my pearly whites before I lean back into the top and second buckles, examining my nails and yawning while I wait.

[Stacie t'Bean]

This is going to be fun!!!

I'm loving this new chat option....Stace

[RedEnforcer]

California Love, eh? So this youngin has a bit of sass to her. Very good.

I know that song may not play well here but it sure does for the viewing audience. She may be young but she has a mind for the business. 

I hear a knock and a familiar voice calling me to the Gorilla position. I move to get ready and stop at the sound guy. I tell him to play my alternate track. No, not An homage to Godzilla tonight. No tonight is serious business and I want my opponent to know I’m not here for anything short of victory.

The first strains start to play. A thumping drum beat and a haunting voice. Monster by Imagine Dragons. It takes the crowd off guard. They look a bit confused. This isn’t my usual entrance music. But when the chorus hits and I step out. They know exactly what to do and cascade boos down on me.

I stand on the stage and soak it in for a moment. I still haven’t looked at my opponent. All I see is the ring and I stride down the ramp with purpose. Avoiding fans reaching for a touch, eyes staring dead ahead at the ropes. It’s been too long since I’ve been on this stage and now that I’m back I won’t let anyone take it from me.

And her opponent, begins the announcer. I go up the steps, wipe my boots on the apron and enter the ring making a bee line to the announcer and putting my hand over the mic. “They know who I am.” I growl at him and he scurries out of the ring as quickly as he can.

Finally I look over to my opponent. A vision in gold. The suit looks like it was poured over her. Sexy fishnets cover her athletically toned legs. And she is showing just enough to get the crowd behind her. In another place at another time, I would react in a different way. I’m sure she’s used to getting a specific reaction from her opponents in this outfit. 

But tonight. It’s all about the belt. I can feel my mask tighten as I glare down at my opponent. After looking her up and down, I meet her eye to eye.  To her credit, she doesn’t flinch.

I walk over to her, not breaking eye contact. I get right in her face and stare her down.My mask just does brush against her skin. And I whisper to her, “Last chance to walk away. Stay and there will be pain.”

[Katherine The Great]

"The last thing people expect, Kit-Kat....is the unexpected."

Even though Daddy has a knack for stating the obvious....he's right. People have certain expectations in life. If you can keep them sticking to those expectations, it's simple to trip them up.

As Tupac and Dre finish telling the crowd about the "sunshine state where the bomb ass hemp be", your music start blaring from the green, paint chipped, loud speakers. The tune is...catchy...and a bit haunting. I'm not sure what a "mawnster" is, but the assembled crowd seems to get the meaning as you come marching down the ramp and straight up to the ring. The look on the announcer's face is more than priceless as you cut him off from your intro which is fine with me. His voice is annoying as hell.

You expect the crowd to know who you are. Again, it's all about expectations.

I mean, look at me. A "cute blonde" with the face of an angel and I'm about to square off against a reject from Lucha Underground. Not that I'm really complaining...I like the mask... a lot. Probably more than I should and probably more than my therapist would like hearing about, but I just can't help it. Back in the Family League, masks were our gimmick. Mom, Dad, and I wore them when we battled and I always had a feeling of...I don't know....power, I guess, when I wore one. The look on an opponent's face when they realize they can't quite read your expression or just think you're a whackjob. Either one gets you where they don't want you to be....in their head. So, when I see you stare me down, I don't even blink. I know the game and I know the results of letting you win that game. I continue my fake yawning and making sure I didn't get ripped off on this manicure as you approach.

Anyway, the 'expectation  here, I'm sure, is for me to suddenly cower in fear or let you intimidate me or both. Granted, you are a pretty imposing figure and, if I don't keep my head in this, I'm going to get hurt....badly.

Nope, can't think that way....gotta stay on a positive note...gotta push those feelings way down deep and use them for fuel. I'm going to need all the help I can get, I'm sure.

You stride over to me, bold as you please and, again, go for the mental game. My nostrils flare as I get a whiff of your manly, musky scent and I chew, a bit, at the corner of my mouth, right before it upturns into a smile.

The unexpected?  It's coming.

“Last chance to walk away. Stay and there will be pain.”, your gruff, Batman-esque, voice tells me as you lean in and whisper about my impending doom.

"Well, one thing is for sure", I grin, "you sure got that...RIGHT!" I shout as I try to hold your gaze and snap my right leg up and bend it. Aiming my gold padded knee right for that large bulge in your black trunks. Yeah, it's cheap and, yeah, it's a bit of a risk....but no risk means no reward...

.....and I'm looking for gold here.

[BustyTiffany35]

The ring introductions for the championship bout have taken place, and now the match itself is about to commence. As the crowds settle in, a tall, toned and busty platinum blonde in a skintight leopard print mini dress, silk fishnet thigh-high stockings, and black leather knee-high boots can be seen sitting front row centre. A black choker completes her attire and a pair of expensive sunglasses sits just atop her bangs. That voluminous mane of silver platinum hair tousling down around her bare shoulders to her lower back is distinctive enough so that anyone sitting behind her could tell just who she is. It looks as if the Platinum Queen herself has decided to take a front row seat to watch the Championship Match closely.

I lean back in my chair and cross my legs, watching eagerly as these two exchange words in the middle of the ring. My eyes slide back and forth between the spirited young brat and the menacing masked hunk, sizing both fighters up closely. I drink in every detail of Red's mask, and every sinful curve accentuated by that golden one-piece that adorns Doll's luscious figure. I'm not playing favourites here, I ain't cheering one on over the other. I like the sassy brat quite a bit, even if she's given me some, problems, lately.. and Red's been one of my favorites for quite sometime, despite also having given me some issues in the past. No, I ain't no one's cheering section tonight, I'm here strictly to get a close up view of who I may potentially face in the near future. And beat for that pretty gold title.

I lick my lips and grin anxiously as I'm eager for the match to erupt into chaos. Then, I spot Doll's gold-padded knee thrust up into the air, aiming it at that bulge in Red's tights. The crowds collectively gasp. I simply laugh.

[RedEnforcer]

No matter how hard you try, a pretty face, some boobs and a good butt distracts you. Always, you big ape.

I can hear my Angel's voice echoing in my head. I thought for sure I could look past things and focus on being the beast. But it looks like once again, I didn't look past the girl-next-door sweet and innocent candy shell and see the fierce competitor that earned her way in the indies to be invited to take me on for this new title.

I looked in her eyes and I didn't see fear, indecision or doubt. She gained my respect for that.

Then while waiting her response, there was a flash of light and electric pain and I'm down on one knee.  Now's she's gained my ire.

I can't say I blame her. This is her big stage. Her moment to climb the proverbial ladder and make herself famous. I know in my youth I did some crazy things. In fact Johnny Caudle the commentator took the brunt of my own race to the top.

That being said, I'm very pissed off right now. Gloves are now off. That's how she wants this to be. Honestly I don't know if the bell has even rung. What I do know is that I'm not letting this brat stroll in here and make a laughing stock of me.

I've been nut shotted before. Probably the worse was Punky with a kendo stick when she and Gemma were drinking and just "messing about" so I'm used to this pain. Just because I'm used to it doesn't mean I can no sell it. But it does mean I don't have to kneel here paralyzed by the pain. 

I can't really see too clearly, but we are close enough that I know she's still in front of me. Her first mistake. Even on one knee, I'm dangerous. And I'm about to show her that.

I dig my right boot into the mat quickly and push off as best I can with the throbbing pain in my groin. That pain and my sudden anger find voice in a growling snarl that erupts past my lips as I drive my body forward.

I can't really target anything, but I am hoping my right shoulder finds her sexy, gold clad flesh and slams as hard into her as I can.

If I can blast her into the corner, bonus for me.  Right now I just want her to feel a tenth of the pain I do and realize that more is to come.

Cocky brat.

[Katherine The Great]

"It's like I always say, Kit-Kat, the shortest distance between two points is..."

Yes, Daddy....I know.

A straight line.

The thing this mass of muscle that I just dropped with a cheap, nut shot just decided to take towards me!

I grin as my knee impacts your crotch, compressing that impressive package and dropping you like a rock. The delicious groan that passes your masked lips makes my nipples rock hard and puts a smile on my face. That smile quickly fades, though, as you.....growl?....then lunge at me. My eyes go wide and I know I should move, but there's nowhere to move.....except back.....which you gladly help me with.

"OOFFFFFFFF!!!" Now it's my turn to groan as I exhale loudly through my lush lips as my cheeks puff out. My body folds over yours as your shoulder rams into my toned tummy. My ass sticking out while my arms, legs, and hair fly forward until the abrupt stop at the nearby turnbuckles jerks my body while the ropes bounce wildly. My arms, instinctively, manage to hook over the top rope on either side of the metal ring post and my round rear slumps down to the second turnbuckle, desperate for support. "Uhhhhhh..." I groan, trying to catch my breath as my blonde mane hangs in my face and my chin tucks down into my chest. My thick legs spread wide and the knees wobbly as I fight for balance and trying to remain upright.

I shake my head and hear a bell ring. Whether it's the bell to start to the match of just in my head, I have no idea. All I know is that I can't breathe and I'm wheezing like as asthmatic who's lost her inhaler. A chorus of "boos" and a smattering of cheers sail up into the humid air as you manage to nail me hard.

You could have, at least, bought me dinner first.

[TaekwonGirl]

Gotta commend Kat on her aim to hit such a minuscule target 

[RedEnforcer]

There is nothing as satisfying in this business as the knowledge that however badly you are hurting, your opponent is hurting worse. 

Right now I’m behind on that score but I am motivated to catch up quickly.

I have hit many people with spears and felt all kinds of reactions. I admit that just on looks I expected my impact with you to be softer. But under that model quality good looking body there is a solid layer of muscle, again a reminder that you are much more than you seem.

My shoulder struck firm if unprepared abs and followed through. I may not be the largest male wrestler there, but with a head of steam I pack a punch and you absorbed much of it. The fact that you haven’t completely collapsed is a testament to your training. Again you gain more of my respect.

That being said you fucking kneed me in my balls and for that, you are going to have to pay.

Normally when I am leaning between the luscious legs of a stacked young woman and making her breathing ragged from a vicious pounding, it looks a bit different.

As the pain in my own body starts to subside so does the anger and sudden rush of adrenaline that allowed me to strike back so quickly.  When you slammed into the corner and I impacted you again, the groan I pulled from you brought a smile to my face.

I can feel you propped up by the buckles. Those fishnets are rubbing against my sides and again, another time and another place the pain would be passion instead. I know I can’t let you recover just yet or those thighs could be my downfall.

After spearing you my arms rested on those thighs and as I move my hands, the warmth and underlying strength of those thighs get traced back to your sides. Briefly my hands rest on your hips before they clench the middle rope.

There’s a bell I think. And a commanding female voice trying to get me to do something. I ignore it for now as my task is clear. Take advantage of the Doll being trapped in the corner and wear her out some.  With a firm grip on the middle rope on either side of your lovely curved bottom, I lean back and drive forward, intent on burying my shoulder into those abs of yours and even that belly button that you must be proud of since you are showing it off in that suit. There is a Ref counting, but I’m sure I can strike you a couple of times before I have to back off.

[Katherine The Great]

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, Kit-Kat...."

Never stand in the path of a moving train. Yeah, Daddy...I remember.

Though, being hung up in the corner with my thick legs spread and my arms coiled over the top ropes as the only thing keeping me up, I'm given limited options. If the Masked Mass of Muscle looks to stoke the fires of the engine and chug on in, I'm really not able to stop him.

Letting out another groan, my firm C cups still lightly jiggling under their shiny, gold casings, my nipples still tenting the thin material, I shake my head and wheeze again, looking to catch my breath and get my head back into this match. I feel your large hands pawing me up, gliding over fishnet clad thighs and to my waist. I'm still stuck as long as your hands are on me and my back is to the corner. I look down, shaking my head to get my thick, golden, hair from my face and see your muscled back flex while your arms spread, gripping the middle rope on either side of me. The bell is still ringing....yes, it's definitely the match bell...and I hear a female voice telling Mr. Freakshow to "Get her outta the corner!". Like that's going to work.

My options are limited....but I still have a few.

I could try to go up and try to slide down your back for a Sunset Flip variation, but that means fighting not only gravity, but my own sore midsection as well. I see you lean back, while your arms still hold the ropes and my eyes go wide again. When you have someone hurt, keep on the area....it's Wrestling 101, really. Hell, it's what I would do.

My wheezing becoming less pronounced as you take your sweet ass time setting me up. My only guess being you think you have the "little girl" hurt and/or shocked enough that she's just going to try to ride out the pain. I know I have to move and move now....if only to stop Daddy's voice from ringing in my head again, telling me what I should do. You lean back and it's now or never....I uncoil my arms from the top strands and simply drop down to my knees and curl up into a ball. Looking to let your shoulder ram into the steel pole, if possible, while I roll forward and out between your massive legs.

It's risky and I have to time it just right but, Jesus, anything to shut Daddy up.

[RedEnforcer]

You know if you don't speed things up, you're not gonna catch me!

I've never been fast. No matter how hard I've tried, this huge feet I have have impeded my attempts to be fast.  Kids in elementary school made fun of my "clown shoes" which along with the red hair and the popularity of McDonald's led to a whole host of unfortunate nicknames. 

Sadie, bless her heart, has tried her best to help me be faster using a variety of ahem "unique" training methods at my gym. But I just have never been fast. Agile, yes. Dextrous, yes. Just not fast. That's why I've focused on strength and being stronger than I look.  Most see my body type and think typical high flyer, but I'm not. I'm a bruiser, a brawler and a grappler.

So it comes to no surprise to me that I swing my shoulder forward and where I should hit flesh, I strike air. I could feel her bottom slide off the second turnbuckle and her sides slide against my hands.  She wasn't as hurt as it sounded.  I feel like the universe is trying to slam me over the head with a 2x4 and tell me this woman is not what she seems, but much much more and I keep failing to learn that.

I can't stop my forward momentum, but I can slow it. Even then I feel my chest sliding across the top of her hair and I tense up. My shoulder just smashes into the steel rail, not at full speed, but hard enough to send electric jolts of pain down all the way to my fingertips. Luckily for me it was my right shoulder and not my left. Even still, my body is jarred and I'm pretty beat up and the match is just starting. 

Before I can register exactly where she is, I can feel her sliding between my legs. My legs tense up feeling her thin golden suit brush against me. I think I may have even groaned a bit. I'm sure if I did, it was a reflexive sound of worry from the earlier crotch shot and not any sense of pleasure gained from feeling a warm, sexy body sliding against my bare naked muscles.

I have enough of my wits about me to try and reach back with my hands to grab her to stop her. My right hand can't make a grip as it's still recovering from the damage the post did. My left hand makes contact but not quickly enough. I'm sure to the fans it looked more like I just pushed her between my legs, although some other fans from the correct angle could see her bottom ripple from the impact of my slow attempt to stop her.

I move around as quickly as I can to keep myself from exposing my back to my opponent and when I whip around I see her there. That one million megawatt smile on her face as she gives me a cheeky wave.  And the crowd just eats it up.

Despite the pain she's inflicted and the focus I have on winning, I just can't help but smile under my mask. This cocky brat has some real brass to her.

It's going to be fun taking her down.

I move my neck from side to side and reach up to adjust my mask. I adopt a wary defensive stance, hands up and slowly move out of the corner.

Let's do this.

[Katherine The Great]

"Katherine. Move. Your. Ass!"

The only thing worse than having Daddy's pseudo-philosophy on wrestling rattling around in my brain is....you guessed it...Mom's "motivational" speeches. For years I've heard those four words, no matter how fast I moved. The woman is 5'9", 150lbs. and moves like a ballerina. I, on the other hand, "....have your Father's coordination." Gee, sorry I wan't raised by Mexican Luchadors like the almight Donna Matrix.

Well, you know what? Fuck you Mother!

I nimbly scramble between your legs and tuck into a forward somersault as I clear the muscled arch, winding up on my feet before standing tall. I quickly spin to face you about three seconds before you whip around, looking like a bull that still has the matador's sword stuck up it's ass. I give you a wide smile and wave, then blow you a kiss to really get the crowd going. My stomach still hurts like a bitch, but I'm not going to let you in on that. Gotta keep up the "young resilience" facade....until, at least, I can fully catch my breath.

"Always keep up the pressure, Katherine!"

God, would someone put a sock in her mouth? I know, I know and I'm moving! Flexing my thighs as I propel myself towards you, not wanting to give you any time to recover or plan, I get within striking distance and take a short hop in front of you. I stomp my left boot as I chamber my right leg back and feint a quick kick to your left knee cap. Instead of the kick, I spin on my left boot as my hands reach for your right wrist. Trying to lift the muscled limb high while I spin under it, I look to wind up on your right side with your right arm out wide and me levering your palm up towards the hot lights above. I go up to my toes, my fishnet encased thighs flexing while I try to twist to my right and just wring that arm.....hard. Hoping the pain in your right shoulder will give me groan from your yummy mask if I can manage all of this.

Take that and stuff up your lucha mask, Mother!

[RedEnforcer]

If you can't outquick somebody, slow ‘em down, doofus.

The wave was bad enough. But then you blow me a kiss. I can just feel the fans solidify their support behind you. But I couldn’t care less about that. (Couldn’t not could, proper grammar bitches! Use it.)

I’m a little flat footed when you start your intricate dance. I guess my brain is still a bit scrambled from your openin attack. As it is, I overcompensate and pay too much attention to your feet.

I must look like a giant masked sloth with how slowly I respond to your hummingbird like motions. Or someone with the agility of a zombie and the brains to match. Even when I figure out the kick is a feint, I shift incorrectly to guard my left side when you grab my right arm.  All too soon I feel a wrench on my still recovering right wing and serious pressure on my shoulder.

“Unnnnn fuuuuccckkk” slips past my lips just before I end up bent over. My left hand slaps my right shoulder to try and stimulate some blood flow and ease the sudden pain.

“Trained in Mexico, doll?” I wonder aloud seeing how you are working the right like luchadors are trained as opposed to the left. I have no choice but to dance like your monkey as you secure this hold. It does give me a chance to get a real good look at you. I can see you really exerting yourself to punish my arm.

Those athletic thighs (gymnast? Powerlifter?) so very tight under the fishnets as you stand on your toes to get added leverage. The thin fabric of your suit starting to really cling to your body as you begin to glisten with sweat.

“Unnnggghh” I can’t help but groan a bit more as you give the arm a small reminder twist. I’m trying to come up with a plan to get free when that Red hearing me groan decides to ask if I give. “Are you kidding me? Hell no!”

My eyes drift back over to your body. I know I’m starting to sweat myself under these hot lights so I know it’s not cold making your suit tent near your chest. You’re enjoying having me in control. Well that’s gonna change.

You’re using my own arm to keep distance between us. Smart.  If I were a fancy guy I’d do the flip forward, then back and roll escape.

But I’m not. So instead I grunt loudly and try my best to stand up. Working to shift the leverage. But mostly wanting you to keep working your hands up focusing on my arm.

As quickly as I can while semi upright, I lean away from you and lift my right boot up. My knee bends and cocks my boot back and I fire it out at you. This time I’m purposely aiming for that nicely defined tummy of yours.

If you can’t breathe you can’t dash about.
It’s time I stopped trying to match your quickness and just started hitting you.