Bar Brawl #2: Amanda Righetti (34yo, 5'8", 130#) v Charlize Theron (42yo, 5'10", 122#) by Ginny38
"Private Room Powerplay"
Charlize put everything she had into the kick and felt the shock of the impact shoot up her leg to her spine, sending ripples through her gluteus maximus. She staggered forward, on follow thru, almost tripping over Righetti's legs as the big redhead sprawled on her back. Theron's weary legs buckled and she fell to all fours. her head bowed; her once flawlessly coiffed hair a muddy, sweat matted, rats nest hiding her face from the howling mob of women on their feet at ringside.
FOUR HOURS EARLIER:
Only Blake Lively and Lindsay Pelas showed up to support Charlize against Righetti; her other 'friends' (Jeri Ryan, Jennifer Lawrence, Lindsay Lohan) had begged off at the last minute with one excuse or another. "Schedule conflict" Ryan and Lohan had said. Lawrence didn't even have an excuse, just admitted, "It's still too soon for me to go back to that place. The pain's too raw. But I'll be at your next fight, no matter where it is."
Theron should have called the whole thing off, but when her mind's made up nothing can deter her. So she, Blake and Lindsey went and arrived at the roadhouse just before sundown. The parking lot was full and the 'overflow lot' jammed, but an old codger with a shotgun leaning on the entry gate said they could park in his cow pasture - for $100! There were a dozen or more cars already there, so they paid - then walked the half mile to the roadhouse! Charlize - wanting to make a spectacular entrance - had foolishly worn expensive, handmade, Italian leather, sandals. Long before they arrived her feet were not only killing her, but reeked of manure and other 'natural' aromatics she'd picked up in the pasture.
So none of them were in a very good mood when they got to the front door only to learn "there's a $250 per head cover charge!" Charlize argued she was fighting and the 'door woman' looked her up and down, not commenting on her expensive designer outfit. But did point to her shoes and said, “You gotta take off yur 'shitty' shoes 'fore you go in.”
Charlize resisted, but Blake interrupted her. “Dammit Char, take 'em off! Suck it up for Christ's sake, you're the one wanted to do this! Fuck the Daniel Day Lewis' slippers and stop screwing around!” Blake grabbed Charlize's $3,500 sandals, handed them to Pelas, and pointed to a trash can at the corner of the building.
Lindsey tossed them in and as she came bouncing back, the woman - who'd had time to compare the way Lindsey and Blake were dressed compared to Charlize's designer duds, asked her, "You two here about the waitress jobs?"
Since neither Blake nor Lindsey had anywhere close to $250 for the cover charge, Pelas sagely asked, "If we say yes, do we get in free?" The woman laughed and jerked a thumb at the side of the building. "Employee entrance's 'round the corner." Lindsey winked at Charlize, then she and Blake headed in to their 'job interview' - saving them each $250!
Charlize grudgingly watched them disappear around the corner, wondering if she shouldn't have interviewed for a waitress job as well. She entered the roadhouse with bare feet, yelping and yipping each time she stepped on a broken peanut shell or something hard she didn't see as she picked her way across the sawdust covered floor to the bar.
Once there, she told Marge the bartender, "Well, I'm here to fight her...if Righetti even shows up.”
“Oh, Mandy's already here,” Marge said with a smirk. “Been here a coupla hours; warming up I guess. You got 'chur money?”
Charlize looked at her blankly. “Uhhhh...what money?”
“Everybody that fights puts up her share of the prize money. Headliner like you...that's $10,000.”
“WHAT!” Charlize protested. “Ten thous... that's insane!”
“I tole Big Rig you'd say that!” Marge laughed, giving a puddle on the bar a swipe with her rag, sending water droplets flying onto Charlize's one-of-a-kind dress. “Best way ta get outta ah fight you're 'fraid of is to not pay the fee.” Marge shrugged. “No skin offa my ass blondie. Door's thata way,” she said, nodding toward the front door Charlize had come through only two minutes before. “Don' let it hitcha that big ass on tha' way out, hon.”
“Now wait a second,” Charlize insisted. “Can't we work something out? I don't have that kind of money on me.”
Marge was no actress, but she tried real hard to look 'thoughtful' as she pretended to consider. Finally, she said, “Wellll... ya COULD put it on a credit card. I take 'em...but I am NOT paying no six percent fee just 'cause you cain't come up with real cash money. You wanta put... lemme see.... six percent of ten thou is... ummm....carry one...” she licked her pencil and rolled her eyes. Math is harder than it looks. “Ah fuck it. Let's say $10,750 and call it even.”
Charlize started to object to Marge's higher math skills, “Wait a sec. Six percent of ten thousand is only...” Then seeing the flash of real anger in Marge's narrowed eyes, she backed down. "Oh, never mind!”
Theron gave Marge her Platinum Card. “Put it on there. But I better not see any suspicious charges. This is the ONLY place I'm using it.” Marge looked hurt as she went to run the charge, trying not to laugh. When she returned a few minutes later, she had Lively and Pelas with her. Both were blushing and looking sheepish.
Marge shoved the two blondes behind the bar and growled, "Stay right there and keep yur traps shut!" She gave Charlize her credit card receipt and some forms to sign. Charlize started to read the fine print, but Marge interrupted. "It's a standard liability waiver... 'case ya get hurt.” Charlize again tried to read it, but Marge again interrupted her, this time to ask for ID. “Gotta know who you are....you know, compare signatures. And your two girlfriend's here are all gonna have to sign... there at the bottom, right below you. Lemme see both your drivers licenses, gals,” she said to Blake and Lindsey.
Charlize's face reddened and her temperature while Blake and Lindsey fumbled for their licenses. She signed the form, then passed it to Lively who signed and gave Marge her California drivers license. After Pelas signed and gave up her license, Marge studied all three intently and they waited as she scrutinized the photos and compared signatures to those on the form.
“Must be an old photo,” Marge told Charlize. “You've aged.” Charlize opened her mouth for a smart alec retort, but Blake put a hand on her arm to stop her. When Marge handed Charlize's back, she told her, “You oughta get a new photo taken soon.”
While Charlize was putting her license away, Marge ripped off the bottom copy of the signed form, folded it in half, then folded it again before she stuffed it in Charlize's purse. “That's your copy,” she said, caressing Charlize's expensive leather handbag. “Hmmmm, nice leather! Anyway... the fight's in about an hour. Ya wanna dressing room?"
Charlize shook her head. "I'll use the ladies rest room."
Marge laughed. "Not dressed like that," she said. "Ladies room had some 'plumbing issues' we had ta shut it down. Gals are usin' the porta-potty out back. I don't think you wanna go there in that designer frock... probably hafta burn it after."
Charlize pursed her lips, then felt Blake's hand on her arm to restrain her before she said something they'd all likely regret. "How about your office?" Charlize asked brightly. "I can change in there."
Marge shook her head. "I let you use my office, next thing, everyone'll wanna. I seen your movies, you ain't bashful... use the stage enda the bar. Change in public. Hell, our topless dancer don't get here 'til 8,” she snickered. "Gals'd enjoy a free show." She reached for the purse Charlize had just closed with her credit card in it. “That'll be another thousand for dressing room rental.”
“I guess I don't have much choice,” Charlize sighed, resignedly opening her purse to get her credit card out again.
"Now," Marge said, looking at Blake and Lindsey, "you two still wanna waitress job, or shall I put the $250 cover charges you tried to cheat me out of on her card too?"
“NO!” Charlize said, quickly grabbing her card back. She was near the limit her business manager set to protect against her natural inclination to spend crazily when shopping. “I've got cash... at least I think I have enough. Didn't know this'd be so damn expensive...” she muttered as she fumbled in her purse, coming up with $950.
Grudgingly, Blake 'loaned' Charlize another $50 (pointedly reminding her, 'it's loan') to cover the thousand for a dressing room. After she rang up the sale, Marge gave her a key. “Number 17 'inna back on the left; numbers on the door. You go on back while I 'interview' Miss Tiny Tits," she said, nodding at Lively, "and 'Bionic Boobs'," she leered at Pelas' bosom. "You gals think you can sneak in without paying the cover by lying to my bouncer 'bout wanting a job?" She gave Theron a gimlet-eyed glare and asked, "You want to front their covers, or shall I put 'em to work?"
"I'm tapped out," Charlize admitted sheepishly. She looked at Blake who shook her head, she too was flat broke. "Sorry," Charlize said, "I guess you two'll have to wait tables...or wait in the car. Here," she said, tossing Blake the keys. "I shouldn't be long."
Blake looked around hoping she didn't see any familiar faces, but sure enough, there was a table of women near the bar who'd been listening to the exchanges between Charlize and Marge. They were Hannah Ferguson, Missy Peregrym and Kate Upton and it looked like they were into their second pitcher of beer, pouring from one with another empty pitcher still on the table.
“Hey look everyone, it's Blake 'Lovely'. Hey, 'Lovely' can we take a selfie with you...one with your top on this time!” Hannah called out, then they all broke into rowdy laughter. Lively had lost most of her attire - and a boxing bout - to Hannah a year ago. Then six months later, she'd lost to Upton after which Kate forced her to sign a 'personal services' contract in exchange for not having her face buried by Upton's awesome cleavage. Blake's face blanched as she realized she still owed Kate for her agreement to 'satisfy' Upton. Pelas joined in the laughter - until she saw the bright red blush on Blake's face and stifled her giggling.
“This is bullshit!” Lively huffed. She grabbed Lindsey and dragged her back to the bar where she angrily told Marge, "OK, dammit, we'll wait on your tables. I don't want to be forced to skulk out with my tail between my legs. AND, I don't want to miss seeing Char flatten that big redhead Righetti."
Marge made it clear... "You wait tables... it includes being 'nice' to my customers... like posing for pictures - and whatever else it takes to keep selling alcohol and food! You think your precious pride can handle that?"
Charlize tried to stop them, but Lively refused to listen and stormed off in a huff, grudgingly posing with the three laughing women while they all took selfies with the blushing blonde. Then Marge took Blake and Lindsey back to her office to fill out the necessary employment forms, state and federal tax withholding forms, and to take a few photos, "just head shots for my files," she assured them.
While Blake and Linds went to Marge's office, Charlize went looking for her locker. She had to show the locker key to a woman who said she was “security” and wouldn't let her past until she'd gotten a “tip” - which took the last of Charlize's cash that she always kept in a hidden pocket in her purse "for emergencies." She kept reminding herself to stay focused, that she'd come to get payback for Jen, not bitch about a bartender overcharging her for a closet to change her clothes.
Rough wood doors numbered 1-20 lined both sides of the dingy hallway, and 17 was on the left, almost all the way at the end. Charlize used the key, but when she opened the door, she saw it was barely big enough for the door to swing, let alone more than a single full size woman. It was the size of a small walk-in closet with a rusty locker, a cracked wood bench and a sink in the corner. She turned the tap and was shocked at how cold the water was - no hot water at all! There would be room for two - if one straddled the bench...but even then she probably couldn't shut the door without standing on the bench!
Charlize left the door open as she took off her expensive designer dress and her silk and lace lingerie. She carefully hung everything in the locker, then squirmed and wriggled into her white Dior sports bra and matching shorts. She usually fought in her bare feet and hadn't thought to bring shoes, but after walking a half mile in European sandals and a bar floor littered with peanut shells and other debris, she wondered what the ring was like and wished she'd asked more questions before committing.
Just as she finished changing, Righetti showed up with four friends! Before she could react, they bulled inside and two pinned Charlize to the back wall. Nadia Bjorlin and Milena Govich held her there unable to move, while Righetti, Katrina Law and a teenager (Kira Kosarin) rifled her locker, joking as they held her clothes up in front of each other. "Who wears designer to a fight?" the teenager Kosarin asked, holding Theron's dress up in front of Righetti.
“You have no idea what you've gotten into Theron!” Amanda purred, running a finger over Charlize's chest and down in the shallow cleavage between the cups of her Dior bra. “Fights here are nothing like any you've seen, let alone done. Here's what's in store for you.
“Girls....” she said. Her friends grabbed Charlize, lifted her, and slammed her down on her back on the bench.
"STOP!" Charlize cried, but they ignored her. Kosarin straddled Theron's legs, Bjorlin pulled her arms back over her head so Law could sit on her them, pinning them to the bench. Theron squirmed sexily but nothing she did got her leverage she needed to break free.
Amanda took a thick, black, marker from her shirt and showed it to Charlize. “See this? Indelible ink. Just lay there and listen, this won't hurt... that part happens later. Here's how fights work,” Amanda explained as she slowly inched her crotch up under the back of Charlize's head. “On the wall above the ring is a video screen. Every so often, a random number is shown. Here's what it means....”
Amanda took the cap off her marker and made a thick, heavy, black, line by running the marker up and down several times in the crevice of the camel toe bulge of Theron's shorts. Charlize shivered at the sensation the marker made as it dug into her camel toe, spreading her labia. “That's number one,” Amanda said. Next, she drew a circle around Charlize's belly button from the waistband of her shorts to just under her ribs. “That's number two,” she said, writing a '2' on Theron's tight little 'innie'.
“You paying attention?” she asked and Charlize nodded mutely. “Three, and four...” Amanda said, leaning forward and grabbing Charlize's right breast in her fist, "are these nasty little numbers." She wrote '3' on the right cup of Theron's sports bra; then grabbed her left breast, closed her fist until it bulged up, and wrote '4' on that cup.
Righetti passed the marker to Kosarin who wrote '5' and '6' on each of Charlize's thighs. “Those are five and six,” Amanda said when Kira gave the marker back..
Finally, Amanda drew a straight line across Charlize's neck from shoulder to shoulder. “No strikes above the shoulders. Finally, most fights have a time limit. If a fighter doesn't submit or isn't knocked out; or if the referee doesn't stop it; judges decide the winner on points. Now when a number appears on the screen...?” she paused, waiting until Charlize nodded. “You punch, kick, knee...whatever, the body part corresponding to the number on the screen, you get a bonus. End of the time limit, the the high score wins.
"But...." she hesitated theatrically. “...if you hit me in the face or head, you'll be penalized. I get a 'free' shot at whatever the bonus body part is. I not only get the bonus point, but it's a clean shot - no flinching or protecting yourself. You get the full impact. I can tell you from experience, the points - and the pain - adds up fast. A kick in the thigh, for example, can make you limp the rest of the fight. So do NOT hit me in the head if you know what's good for you."
Amanda stepped back, turned and bowed to her audience of four. "And that, fans and supporters, concludes our 'friendly warning' for today..." Amanda said, flipping the marker at a pile of dusty trash in the corner. "So don't say you didn't know what you're in for when you go running back whining and sobbing to your friends tomorrow...or whenever,” Amanda added darkly, then grinned. “I hope you were paying attention!”
“HEY! What the hell's going on?” Blake Lively said when she appeared in the doorway and stopped short seeing the crowd in the room. Blake was wearing a thong under a short skirt and a cropped tee-shirt that left the lower half of her perky breasts bare. She tried to turn and run, but she got caught by the ponytail by Kira Kosarin and leg swept off her feet. Blake hit the cement floor on her back, the impact knocking the air out of her! There was a short, futile, struggle before the wiry teenager and Milena Govich subdued Lively, pinning her on the floor.
“Your girlfriend'll fill you in on what's going on,” Amanda told Lively as she and her friends took turns stepping over her as they marched off to get Righetti ready for her fight with Charlize.
As they disappeared down the hall one way, Lindsey Pelas arrived from the other. She was dressed the same as Blake and the two spent the next half hour trying to calm Charlize after Pelas told her, "This... uniform... costume... whatever... THIS is what we have to wear waiting tables!"
Charlize decided 'to hell with this crap' and stood up to change back into her street clothes. It took a while for them to convince her that walking out (it was a half mile back to the car) wouldn't only be unproductive, it'd be expensive - and futile...not to mention probably end up subjecting them to more severe punishment than Charlize would likely suffer in a 'fair fight'.
“Anyway, they've got about $13,000 of....MY...OUR....money,” Charlize sighed. “I can't leave before I get my...our...whoevers... money's worth of retribution from Righetti. And I suspect you'd love a chance to kick the ass of a few of her bitch friends, too. Right?” she asked the two women.
Blake seemed uncertain, but when she thought about how she'd been humiliated by Upton, Peregrym and Ferguson in the bar, she nodded and encouraged Charlize. Pelas sat quietly, biting her lip nervously; she didn't offer an opinion until, she finally said, “I guess I'd fight the bartender. The old bat didn't look so tough!”
“Yeah!” said Theron, her tone flat, emotionless. “A bartender! How tough could she be? She outweighs you by 50 pounds and everybody knows any bartender can fight like hell, am I right?”
“Look who's talking! If it wasn't for YOUR little protege Lawrence shooting off her mouth, we wouldn't be in this mess! You should've just kept quiet when she was whining about what happened. It was her own damn fault anyway,” Lively grumbled
* * * * * *
Twenty minutes later, a woman stuck her head in the door, looked at the three blondes and wondered aloud, “Is one of ya'll Blondie'?”
Charlize thought a second, then remembered the bartender had called HER Blondie. “You mean Righetti's opponent?” she asked hopefully.
The woman thought a second, then her eyes lit up. “Yeah. 'Big Rig' we call her! That her name, Rigatoni?” Charlize gave her a 'thumbs up', and nodded. "Well, then, you're up next," the woman told her and left satisfied.
Charlize took a couple of deep, calming, breaths, looked at Lively, then Pelas, and stood up. “OK. Let's do this."
They headed out, stopping short when it dawned on them they had no idea how to get to the ring. They started checking doors until Lively found one that opened into a hall where another 'security' woman was sitting in front of a door marked 'arena'. They walked down to her and stopped. “I'm up next,” Charlize said.
The woman looked her up and down; eyed the two 'waitresses' then shook her head sadly and muttered, “'S'your funeral. Tickets?”
They looked at one another in confusion. Nobody had said anything about tickets. Charlize said, “We're together. I paid Marge out front.”
The woman nodded as if that explained it, took out a walkie-talkie and paged Marge. After a muffled conversation - with lots of static - she shook her head. She poked Charlize in the tits, “You, can go in. You, and you," she said, jabbing a press-on nailed finger into Blake and then Lindsey's bosom, "either haul your asses out and wait tables inna bar...or buy yourselves some tickets. 'S'the only way either of ya's gittin' in, hon.”
“How much are the tickets?” Pelas asked nervously.
The 'Security' guard shrugged, “Beats me. I check if you got 'em and keep ya's out if ya doan'. Sellin's Marge's job, go talk at her.”
They went back to the bar...with Theron's brief attire hardly getting any attention compared to the lascivious looks Lively and Pelas' nearly nude bodies got from a trio of hard women shooting pool and two others throwing darts, one of whom almost missed the wall entirely when she got a look at Pelas' breasts. Most of those who'd been drinking all afternoon seemed more intent on getting wasted, but a few looked up to give one or the other a whistle, and one called to Pelas, "Hey cutie, why don't ya come over an sit on ma face!"
Charlize walked up to Marge who was in a heated conversation with Kate Upton. “What's this shit about tickets?" Charlize angrily interrupted them. "I paid you ten damn thousand dollars. That ought to include a couple of corner workers.”
Marge grinned. “We don't use corners here. You want your bimbo's ta git in? I got tickets for sale, but'cha better hurry. You and Red are the talk of the town an' I'm expecting a bus with, oh.... 20, maybe 25, horny dykes any minute. Should be sold out when they get here.”
“How much are the tickets?” Charlize sighed, knowing she wanted her friends at her back in case of trouble.
Marge grinned. “You're in luck. Special rate tonight." She eyed Lively and said, "Coupla good lookers like you two I got two ringside. Fifteen hundred each. Take 'em or leave 'em!”
Charlize started to reach for her Platinum Card, then realized it was in her locker...with her expensive European clothes, in her leather designer handbag. She looked at Lively who pointed to her waitress uniform and shook her head...she wasn't hiding ANYTHING, even a credit card in that outfit.
Kate Upton spoke up, "I'd hate to see you go into that room all by your lonesome with no one to cheer for you." After hesitating momentarily, Kate produced a credit card and handed it to Marge. “I'll loan you the money. There's more than enough on there to cover $3,000,” she told Marge, but didn't let go of the card. "On one condition..."
Marge waited, then smiled when Upton added, "I'm throwing a party for some friends Friday. If Lively," she jabbed Blake in the left breast so hard her nipple inverted back into the soft mound, "agrees to be our waitress I'll consider her $1500 loan paid in full. And you'll get plenty of tips wearing that get up!" she added.
As Blake was considering it, Kim Kardashian - who'd been standing nearby eavesdropping, piped up, "I'll match that offer. I'll front 'Puppies' there," she pointed to Pelas, "a loan for her ticket. The girls and I are throwing a Halloween party in the private party room Saturday. We'd love to have Lindsey service us. What say girl? You up for a night of fun 'n' games with the grown-ups?"
Blake and Lindsey exchanged glances, then Charlize sighed and said, "Come on; you already agreed to waitress for Marge. What's the problem? I've got a fight to win. Let's go..."
Putting their considerable reservations aside, Blake and Lindsey (reluctantly and with trepidation) agreed to Upton and KimK's offers. Marge rang up their tickets, putting $1500 on each of Kate and Kim's credit cards. She handed them the receipts and as they were signing, Marge wrote Blake and Lindsey's cellphone numbers (from their employment applications) on two of her business cards and gave them to Kate and Kim. "You can reach 'em at those numbers," Marge said. "'least, they're the ones they gave me. Let 'em know when and where you want 'em. I'll provide the uniforms," she said with a lecherous leer at the nearly naked young women. "I expect you will NOT damage MY property," Marge told Kate and Kim. "The t-shirts and thongs cost a small fortune. Had 'em imported from Asia special."
"What, no employee discount on the tickets?" Blake asked hopefully.
Marge shrugged. "You waitress the rest of tonight, I'll waive your covers. How about it shugah, you willing to work instead of watch your girlfriend get her sweet ol' ass kicked?" she asked.
Lively's eyes narrowed. "I came to support her and I will! Even if it costs me. No thanks!"
Marge shrugged and told Blake and Lindsey, "After her fight, you two come right back here. I'll put you on the floor for a while, make sure you know what you're doin'. Stop by my office and I'll give you the details and partner you with one of my experienced gals. Here's your tickets, better hurry," she said, handing Charlize two pasteboard ducats.
Tickets in hand, the three blondes hurried back to the ring. The security guard took her time checking their tickets before she stepped aside, opened the door to admit them. She patted Charlize's ass as she went through, pointing her to the left with a parting, “Good luck momma... you'll need it!” Then she told Blake and Lindsey, "I should check you both for hidden weapons, but it ain't necessary in those outfits. Y'all ain't hidin' NOTHIN' in there," she laughed as she gave Pelas' breasts a squeeze.
Charlize stepped inside and stopped, gaping in surprise! Instead of some rustic barn or a tin shed as she'd expected, the interior looked, more or less, like a real arena! It had a large pentagonal dirt floor with rows of theater-style seats on each of four sides; the fifth side open to allow spectators and fighters to enter and leave. Almost every seat was filled by well-dressed women, most wearing dresses...though a few were roughly dressed biker dykes who looked less like socialites than fight survivors.
Charlize did a quick calculation and guessed there were over a hundred seats, so at $1500 each (based on her deal with Marge) with her and Amanda each put up half the prize money, Marge would clear a small fortune if she sold all the hundred, or more, seats!
Amanda was already waiting for Charlize in the center of the dirt pentagon in a white 'wife beater t-shirt' (no bra, Charlize was glad to see), skin tight black leather shorts and black motorcycle boots. 'That's not good,' she thought when she saw the heavy boots on Amanda's feet.
There were no ropes, but a knee high dirt berm at each of the five sides separated the fighters from the fans. The first row of seats was set several feet back from the edge of the 5-sided 'ring' and Charlize made a mental note to avoid getting backed up into the spectators. They were met at the door by an usher who checked their tickets and showed Blake and Lindsey to front row ringside seats in Charlize's corner.
As Blake sat, a woman in the row behind her leaned over and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked around, shocked to find Righetti's entourage (Bjorlin, Law, Govich, and Kosarin) sitting behind her and Lindsey! They'd be on their backs at the first sign of trouble!
“Great seats,” Law said, reaching over Blake's shoulder and digging into her shirt...rubbing her breast a bit before pulling out her ticket. “How much was this?” she asked, holding up the stub.
“They're fifteen hundred each,” Blake answered. Then added proudly, "But I made a deal with the bartender. We got tickets in exchange for waitressing next weekend." She felt pretty good about herself, knowing that this week, at least, she wouldn't be short of grocery money again.
“Wow! Ours were only a thousand,” teenage Kosarin chuckled. “SUCKER!”
“Fuck!” Lively muttered, “The bitch screwed us...”
"You have no idea," laughed Katrina Law as she and Nadia Bjorlin hi-fived.
The house lights dimmed as Marge walked to the middle of the dirt fight area holding a microphone. “Good evening ladies,” she said, sounding lower, throatier, and sexier than she'd been in the bar. “You're about to see a special event. You may remember 'Big Rig', or 'Red' as she was known? Well, she's been away, but she's back to answer a challenge from 'Blondie.' If any of you recognize 'Blondie' don't give away her identity; she'd be mortified if anyone knew about her fight kink. We'll keep it under our hats, OK?”
The crowd answered in unison, "OH FUCKIN' KAY!" and burst into laughter.
“The fight will be according to the house strict no holds barred, but one, rules,” Marge said. It was met with enthusiastic applause and cries of “Get the fight started!” She pointed to Amanda, then to Charlize. “You both know and understand the rules?” she asked. Amanda nodded but Charlize looked confused. “I need you to acknowledge you understand the rules,” Marge told her. “Do you?” Charlize shook her head 'no.'
Marge blew out air in disgust, rolled her eyes and muttered, “Fuckin' dumb blonde bimbos!” She took a moment to explain: “First, there are no rules except no blows to the face or head; anything else goes. You fight until one can't...or doesn't want to... go on. That's easy enough even a blond oughta unnerstand.” She looked at Charlize who, with tightly clenched lips, nodded. “Tha' winner gets two prizes,” Marge said, staring at Charlize, forcing her to pay attention. “First the prize money, which tonight comes to $20,000. The second thing the winner gets is..... the loser!"
The crowd whopped and howled their approval as Charlize's head snapped up, wide-eyed. She opened her mouth to protest, but at the sight of the dark scowl on Marge's face she shut her mouth; determined that - no matter what - she would NOT lose...if only to spite the conniving bitch of a bartender.
“After the first fight, there'll be a short break to clean up, followed by several more fights,” Marge said and the crowd again roared their approval. Finally, Marge introduced a third woman. “and the referee for this bout... returning after being away for too long... Yvonne Strahovski!”
The crowd rose to applaud as Strahovski stepped from behind the curtain in skintight, short, black shorts and a striped top tied under her small, firm, perky, breasts. Her hair and figure were almost a mirror image of Theron and Lively and everyone in the room already knew Yvonne and Charlize were bitter, longtime rivals. Strahovski agreeing to referee this fight could only mean she wanted to be up close when Theron got a good working over - at a minimum - no matter who came out the winner. They all thought Yvonne would enjoy every minute of the fight!
Marge ended the preliminaries with one last bit of information. "And now that everyone's ready, let's make some MUD!"
Two 'waitresses' came out from each side dragging hoses. They laid the open end over the berm into the ring, then someone turned a crank in the back and water began to flow out onto the dirt ring. In a minute, the dirt began to turn to mud and after three minutes, the mud was a thick, gooey, mass six to eight inches deep. Charlize knew any advantage she had in speed or quickness had gone; the 'ring' was now a swamp! She could tell from the smirk on Righetti's face she'd known about this, and hadn't said anything so as not to spoil the 'surprise.'
The water was turned off, the hoses pulled back, and Yvonne called the two women together. She reminded them the only rule was no hitting above the shoulders, then signaled for the bell.
CLANG!
As soon as the fight began, Charlize backed away - luckily for her because Amanda tried a round kick at her left knee. Amanda's boots were still dry, not caked with the heavy mud - and Charlize barely avoided a potentially crippling blow! Charlize circled right as Righetti regained her balance, planted her left foot and again tried to sweep her right to Charlize's left knee. Theron couldn't avoid this one, but luckily her weight was on her right foot and her left leg moved with the impact which lessened her pain.
On instinct, Charlize stepped forward and snapped a jab just short of Righetti's nose! She'd forgotten the only rule was no punching the head, but she'd acted on pure instinct!! Fortunately, all it got her was a warning from Strahovski! "No blows to the head Theron... only warning!"
Realizing she needed to change the dynamic, Charlize feinted one way and stepped the other, getting Righetti off balance. Theron lowered her shoulder and slammed into Amanda's chest, bowling her over and knocking her in the mud on her back! Several in the crowd hooted or cheered the take-down, Blake loudest of all; but the majority sat silent, confirming what Theron suspected, she wasn't the crowd favorite!
Before Charlize could regain her footing and take advantage, the 'big rig' scrambled back to her feet and continued to press Charlize, forcing her back with a series of kicks aimed at her thighs or belly. A leg sweep connected that dropped Charlize on her butt, but like Amanda she quickly scrambled to her feet when Righetti's plant foot slid in the mud and she lost her footing.
They squared up and both landed knees; Theron's to Amanda's left thigh and at the same time Amanda kneed her right thigh. "Point!" one judge yelled. Both momentarily hobbling, Charlize tried to grab Righetti's shirt, but Amanda didn't miss this time and kicked Charlize's left thigh. Theron frantically turned away, trying to escape Righetti's ceaseless kicking which had, so far, kept her out of Theron's reach. Most of Righetti's kicks had missed, but the ones that did hit her slowed Charlize and hindered her for some time after.
After another minute of kicking Charlize's ass through the mud, Righetti changed tactics, she stopped kicking her legs and began punching Charlize's body. As Theron reeled back under a barrage of body blows, she saw several women in the crowd holding up 3 fingers. She realized the scoreboard must be showing number 3 but 'What did three mean again?' She was trying to remember when Amanda's heavy fist slammed into the middle of her chest. "Point!" two judges called in unison.
"UNNGH" Charlize grunted, her upper body shocked by the hard punch. She righted herself and fired a straight right that pancaked Righetti's left breast and she smiled at Amanda's bleat of pain as her knuckles sank deep in the flashy mound! Righetti shook her head as if to say 'it didn't hurt' but Charlize knew differently. She doubted her punch hurt Amanda's bigger breast nearly as much as Amanda's stung her, smaller, thinner, breasts.
Charlize tried to circle, but again, Righetti lashed out with her foot, buckling Theron's knee and leaving her unable to block the punch to her belly that doubled her over in breathless agony.
"Point!" one of the judges called again, Charlize's only clue the numbers must have changed. But what was the number on her belly button...she couldn't remember. She shrugged it off and slogged forward, fighting the resistance of the thick mud.
Righetti splashed to her right and stepped in, hammering a left hook under Charlize's left elbow that crushed her left breast again. "Point!" another judge ruled in Amanda's favor.
"Ohhhhhhh....." Charlize moaned as tears welled up from the pain.
"Point!" a second judge agreed with the first. Again, the numbers must have changed and now Righetti was taking advantage of having friends in the crowd signaling her while Charlize was too busy trying to stay on her feet and fight to even take a peek. Amanda, kicked a big gooey glob of mud up in Charlize's face, the thick dark muck blinding her. As she tried to wipe it away with her left hand, she flailed out wildly with her right and she felt her fist hit something hard!
"FOUL!" Yvonne cried, grabbing Charlize from behind, wrapping her arms around her chest to drag her away from Righetti who, despite the dirt on her left cheek from Charlize's hand was smirking.
"Nooooo....." Charlize protested. "It was an accident... it's her fault, she threw mud in my eyes, I couldn't see her!"
"Tough luck," Amanda said. "Just because you don't know what you're doing..." she shrugged and smiled as she rubbed her hands together eagerly. "I believe the number was one?" she asked Marge.
"One it was," Marge said. "Referee, hold her while Amanda takes a free shot at the bitches cooze!"
'Cooze?' Charlize thought. "WAIT!" she yelled as she realized that Amanda was going to punch her in the... [/i]"AAAAWWWWWHHHaaaaaaaaaaaa.........."[/i] Yvonne had been holding Charlize with her arms around her chest, trapping Theron's hands at her sides when Righetti bent, took a quick step forward as she drew back her fist, then swung as hard as she could... down, forward, up...up into the sweet nectar pot between Charlize's legs which she'd opened just enough while she was struggling with Strahovski to expose her succulent treasure to Amanda's well-timed and expertly delivered uppercut!
The punch lifted Charlize's hips and as Righetti followed through, she drove Theron back against Yvonne, pancaking the blonde's perky little puppies between them. Both blondes crashed backward and splashed in the mud, with Charlize on top still held firm in the breathless Strahovski's bearhug!
"Point! Point! Point!" all three judges said, a chorus of points for Amanda.
Since the rules were somewhat 'lax' and subject to re-interpretation at any time, no one worried too much about enforcement, so Amanda just kept rumbling forward, one foot after another... right foot into Theron's already painful groin, left foot on Theron's belly, right foot flattening Theron's left breast, her left heel stomping on Yvonne's right breast...
"Oops, sorry 'Von," Amanda muttered as she turned around, leaned over and grabbed two handfuls of Theron's mud-matted hair to pull the hurting and breathless blond off of Strahovski who - as soon as she was no longer pinned by Charlize's weight, rolled around holding her crushed breast in both hands; muttering Australian slang nobody recognized, though the emotion behind it was obvious!
Charlize windmilled her arms trying to break Righetti's grip on her hair, which turned out to be easier than expected since her hair was slathered with thick mud, making it nearly impossible to hold! Bent over and backing away, Theron's feet shot out from under her and she fell on her ass, SPLAT with her legs in the air. Righetti quickly grabbed her right ankle and gave a quick wrench to the side, which flipped Charlize over on her chest.
Amanda kicked her in the groin, then twice in the ass, driving her pelvis down into the mud, then she stomped the back of her left leg a couple of times too! Charlize tried to crawl to get away and catch her breath, but Amanda walked with her, stomping her ass and the backs of legs over and over to weaken her dangerous legs, but also for the pure joy of humiliating her!
Now that she had control of the fight, Amanda pulled off Charlize's top and began to torture her breasts, grabbing and crushing them; pinching her nipples and twisting them. She continued to work in close, hugging her around the chest with a bearhug while she kneed her groin, thighs, belly, any part she could. Theron tried to wriggle free, but her bare feet kept slipping and Righetti was able to tip her over backward and body slam her down in the mud on her back.
Amanda sat up straddling Charlize's hips, then after glancing up at the monitor and seeing "2" she drew back and began to pound both fists down into Theron's exposed belly...THUD, SMACK, SPLAT, THUNK....each time Amanda's fist slammed into her midsection, Charlize's head and shoulders, and her legs, would jerk up with the impact...then after a second, her whole body would go limp and she collapsed back down on her back again!
Charlize was dully aware of the cadence of calls that accompanied Amanda's breast bludgeoning, "Point! Point! Point! Point!" After several more point-scoring 'belly-busters', Righetti no longer felt resistance, so she kneed Theron's limp body over onto her belly and sat on the back of her legs to give the blonde's ass several spanks, loving the satisfying grunts and groans each time Theron's head lifted up out of the mud.
Then Righetti got busy pulling and tugging at Charlize's shorts, working them down one side, then the other, until her entire pale, unmuddied, bottom was bared and her shorts at her ankles. The crowd loved what they were seeing and rose to cheer Righetti, then jeer Theron after Amanda stood up and finished removing her shorts.
In their seats, Lively sat softly sobbing and shaking her head 'no' at the sight while Pelas was silent, open-mouthed in shock seeing her stable's biggest and most famous celebrity beaten and stripped by a minor TV actress whose name Lindsey couldn't even remember hearing before tonight! Yet Lindsey couldn't deny the big, powerful, redheaded warrior looked even more intimidating in action than she'd seemed before the bell.
Strahovski stood off to one side, watching Amanda strip Charlize of the last of her clothing - and her dignity. Suddenly, Yvonne had to duck when Righetti blindly threw Theron's wet, muddy, shorts aside, almost hitting her in the face! It took all the Aussie's will power not to catch them and throw them in Amanda's face, but Yvonne would rather enjoy a front row seat to Theron's humiliation than earn a front row view of the underside of Righetti's ass...one she'd probably have if she did anything so dumb!
Directly behind Yvonne when she ducked sat Lindsey Pelas. Too surprised to move until it was too late, Charlize's wet, muddy, shorts smacked her square in the face with a wet SPLAT! Pelas just sat there, the muddy cloth over her head and covering half her face; gooey wet mud dripping down her chin onto her thin t-shirt and running into her cleavage. When she slowly reached up and pulled the soggy mass from her face, she was blinded by the bright light of a cellphone camera. "Smile!" Kim Kardashian giggled as she recorded a video of Lindsey's erect nipples in her soaking wet t-shirt.
Meanwhile, Amanda had Charlize's left wrist and pulled her arm back and up, adding a painful twist to force the wincing blonde to scramble to her feet to ease the pain in her shoulder and elbow. Righetti held the arm straight, levering her shoulder, making Theron lean forward from the waist; her soft breasts free with mud running from her stiff, aroused, nipples as Righetti walked her in a circle, giving everyone in the room a good, long, look at the Oscar-winning actress.
Charlize wiped her eyes with the back of her right hand, brushing away tears, or just wiping away mud? Whatever, the sight was powerful evidence of her powerlessness under Amanda's stern control. To further illustrate her dominance, Righetti kicked Charlize's ass... several times. And each time the big redhead swung her foot, the impact sent tsunami-like ripples rolling thru the pale expanse of gluteus maximus....and mud flying into the crowd; drawing squeals and squawks of protest from those women foolish enough to have worn good clothes. The biker dykes, in their club leathers or rolled up plaid shirts and denim short-shorts, laughed at the 'straight society bitches' as they scrambled for higher ground.
Theron didn't care about the women in the audience being splattered with mud, she didn't even mind so much having her ass kicked... that was the least of her worries. She was naked; up to her ankles in gooey, slippery, mud; and having her arm nearly ripped off by a big, angry, redhead who'd like nothing more then to rip it off and beat her senseless with it. Her only "friend" - at least her only "protector" - was an Australian blond a few feet away who, if she had HER way, would've done even worse if she had a chance!
Amanda gave Charlize's arm another twist and Theron cried out in pain as she was forced to bend even lower, another hard foot in the ass sent her face first down into the mud on her belly. Amanda stepped over her body, sat down on the small of her back, and levered the trapped arm up in a hammerlock. When she added a fistful of muddy hair to the hold and pushed Charlize's face down in the mud and held it there!
Unable to turn her face to get air, Charlize kicked her legs frantically and pawed futilely at Righetti's hand in her hair. But the big redhead wouldn't release her grip and as Theron ran out of air, her struggling, squirming, and kicking slowed, then stopped. That was when Strahovski stepped in and tapped Righetti on the shoulder. "That's about long enough Amanda. I'm not going to stand here and let you kill her."
Amanda looked up with an expression of utter disdain on her face that showed she didn't care what Yvonne did, or didn't, want. "Fuck off you Aussie cxnt," Amanda snarled, "or your little tits and that flat ass will end up down here beside her. You don't tell me what you will, or won't, 'let' me do. This is MY show, you're just some cheap, bleached blonde who's the comic relief."
Righetti punctuated her 'dismissal' by letting go of Charlize's hair to scoop up a handful of mud and throw it in Yvonne's face! Which gave Charlize a chance to gulp a couple of mouthfuls of badly needed oxygen before Amanda grabbed her hair again and shoved her face back into the mud.
Strahovski just stood there staring as mud dripped off her cheek and chin onto the front of the striped referee shirt she had tied under her perky breasts. Her fists were clenched and everyone was holding their breath to see what she'd do. It looked like Yvonne was about to swing on Amanda when little Lindsey Pelas broke the tension by screaming at the top of her lungs, "KICK HER ASS, REF! DON'T TAKE THAT SHIT FROM THE BIG LUMMOX."
It was so unexpected, and delivered in such a hi-pitched, squeaky, voice, that everyone - even the motorcycle dykes - burst out laughing. It gave Strahovski time to get her temper under control, her fists relaxed and she took a step back. Righetti, knowing Yvonne was never a threat to her in the first place, smiled, puckered up and blew the ref a kiss. Strahovski, her face blushing bright red, kept backing away, knowing she'd been beaten... thanks to the fuckin' big-titted little busybody in a tiny little waitress' t-shirt!
Righetti hair-hauled Theron's limp body up and set her on her knees in front of her, wrapped her up in a Rear Naked Choke as she pressed her lips to Theron's ear. "You get the message, now? Submit and come with me and take what's coming to you; or keep annoying me and I'll make it hurt a whole lot more. THEN I'll take you to the back room and give you a long, hard, ride before I send you home with your tail between your legs...and maybe a few other things as well."
Charlize didn't answer because, at the moment, her mouth was full off mud and she couldn't speak if she wanted! Amanda gave Charlize's already painful neck a wrenching twist, “...if you hang on and suffer through all the pain and degradation I'll put you through, and the time runs out, then the judges will decide the winner. Whatever you do, you'll have 'suffered bravely' but all you'll have to show for it is more pain tonight, and tomorrow when you wake up and several days more after that. So tap out like the little bitch you are, and don't worry what your friends will think...”
She gave Charlize's arm another jerk, then wrenched her neck again flipping her on her back and mounting her straddling her waist, leaving her hammerlocked arm trapped under her in the mud beneath her. Righetti rose up on her knees, then slammed both her palms down on Theron's perky, firm, little, breasts. Then she closed her hands into fists, crushing the soft, tender, flesh which oozed out between her spread fingers as she bounced up and down, pulling and stretching the pliable breast meat until everyone in the arena was sure it was going to come away in her hands!
"Had enough?" Amanda hissed the question with a tightly clenched jaw as she continued to apply crushing pressure to Theron's small - and rapidly growing smaller each second - tits!
Charlize, her lips quivering; eyes filling with tears, shook her head and bit her lower lip; refusing to submit, fighting the pain. She suffered the pain and agony until she was afraid she'd pass out. But each time she saw the gray walls closing in, Righetti eased off, slackening the pressure enough to keep Theron on the edge of unconsciousness when it would have been more merciful to let her pass out. But that wasn't what Amanda, or the crowd...or Yvonne, either, for that matter... wanted.
Then Righetti decided she'd wasted enough time dealing with such a small "issue" (how she thought of Theron's breasts). She let go of Charlize's left breast, continuing to crush the right in her left hand, reached back behind her with her right hand and slapped it down on Theron's belly. Amanda leaned back slightly, her right hand slithered over Charlize's smooth, curved, belly toward the V between her limp legs. As Righetti's hand disappeared from sight between Charlize's thighs, Righetti suddenly rocked forward and fish-hooked three fingers into Theron's pussy and lifted her hips and ass right up out of the mud!
Charlize screamed and immediately started slapping the mud with her left hand! Amanda held her arched like that for a half a minute, grunting with an almost sexual delight at having taken her rival down with her surprise attack. As she tightened her grip, a rasping gargle escaped Charlize's throat. But before Theron could scream, her struggling stopped when she could no longer maintain her bridge and her butt settling back down into the muck.
Amanda gently lowered her to the floor, then turned and looked at Lively who sat, stunned, her mouth gaping in shock at the sight of her mentor and idol, limp and helpless. Yvonne walked in a wide circle around Righetti over to Marge who handed her a microphone. Her lips pursed grimly, Yvonne Strahovski announced, “The winner by knockout, at twenty seven minutes and twenty seconds, Amanda Righetti.”
Then she threw the microphone at Marge and stormed angrily away, looking mightily displeased. Everyone knew Yvonne had wanted to be the one to put 'The Golden Goddess' down, and it irked her that she not only hadn't done it herself, but she'd been force to oversee what would later be known as Amanda Righetti's greatest triumph!
Yvonne angrily kicked a woman's purse in the aisle as she stormed out of the arena, ignoring the squall of protest, “Watch where you're goin' bitch!” from an irate woman scrambling after her purse on her hands and knees.
* * * * *
While Righetti dragged the unconscious Theron by the hair through the mud and behind the curtain that separated the 'fighting area' from the 'play area', Marge came over and crooked her finger at Lively and Pelas. "Time to get your asses to my office so I can put you to work making me some money. Chop-Chop!" Then seeing Lindsey's muddy t-shirt, Marge laughed and added, "I'll have to get you a clean shirt, I've got one in my desk should fit."
Blake and Lindsey followed Marge back to the bar to begin their careers as waitresses while, at the same time, Charlize was entering the dimly lit dungeon. Amanda propped the dazed and groggy blonde against the wall, pinning her with her muscular body; her thigh grinding into Charlize's groin as she held her with a forearm across her bare breasts, her right fist clenched threateningly under the trembling blonde's bloody nose.
“Ready to listen, tiny tits?” Amanda grumbled, cruelly pinching one of Charlize's stiff, swollen, black and blue nipples to get her attention; then gave it a sharp twist when Charlize didn't answer.
“Yesssss!” Theron quickly whimpered. “What... whatever you want, I'll say... I'll do... I'll beg if you want. Just don't..." she paused, the humiliating words sticking in her throat. "....don't hurt me any more. I'll be good... I swear..." then recalling her training from years before, when she'd been a regular at Danni Ashe's 'Porn Star Fight Club', Charlize added the obligatory, "... Mistress Amanda.”
Righetti grinned; not because she was fooled by Theron's apparent submission, but because she knew even pretending to submit was the first step to actual submission. Once a sub spoke the words aloud, they'd given up hope and had no choice from that point. More importantly, Amanda didn't need, or want, her submission. She had more important things to do. She had a little over an hour with Charlize, but she already knew she'd accomplish what she needed to in less than that... then she'd enjoy another 'payday' - thanks to the sweetheart deal she'd made before the fight!
* * * *
Five minutes later, her body still covered with slowly drying and caking mud, Charlize was on her tip-toes, both arms stretched high overhead, her wrists handcuffed to the shower head of the rusty tin stall at the back of the dungeon - which also served as a changing room for winners and a punishment room for losers. There, winners took what they wanted from the losers, who - after submitting had no choice but to go along or suffer. 'Roadhouse Rules' were that (usually) winners got the losers - as long as both fighters had willingly signed the consent form agreeing to and accepting the stipulation before the fight.
Amanda pulled off her top and wiped mud from her breasts as she eyed Theron. Next to her, the blonde's tits didn't look so formidable, but they'd taken a lot of abuse... and Amanda didn't doubt they'd suffer more before the night was over. Still, standing there with her hand on Theron's mud caked breast; feeling the heat of her muddy flesh, Amanda thought the blondes nipples were about the finest, perkiest, and most resilient she'd ever seen... and she'd seen some of the most famous in the world during her visits to locker rooms, photo studios and in back rooms of clubs around the world in her travels as an actress and fighter. No, Charlize's weren't ordinary - but they weren't that formidable either... once you got your hands on them!
Amanda thought Charlie probably didn't have illusions about hers either, not if the stories she'd heard about her were close to being true. Most women knew their flaws... from what she'd seen firsthand, Righetti thought Charlize wasn't delusional enough to think she'd hold out long once Amanda got them in her hands. This wouldn't take very long at all.
“You were a pretty good leader for your stable,” Amanda said as she walked slowly around the hung up blonde as Theron's eyes tried to follow her. “But you haven't done much for several years. You're getting old; Ryan's already old; Bell was old years ago... now there's only Lawrence and Lively... and Lively's next on our list. Forget Lohan and Pelas, they're too small and can't fight nearly as well as they lick...I've been told.”
She lightly ran her fingertips over Theron's belly as she continued to circle , talking softly. “So here's a one-time offer,” she purred, caressing the inside of Charlize's thigh, her hand gliding upward. “I have you... your poor, pathetic, enslaved, body... for the rest of the night... all alone in this cell. And do you know why?” she asked.
Amanda smiled when Charlize nodded. “Right, because your ego couldn't accept your protege Lawrence lost a dumb, meaningless bar fight. And why can't you accept that? Because, she's your protege and if your protege loses, it's like a permanent black stain on YOUR record? Right? How stupid is that?” Amanda chuckled, giving Charlize's ass a SMACK that send a clump of damp mud splatting onto the shower wall behind her.
“You HAD to challenge me and try to 'redeem' Jenny's loss.” Amanda stopped to caress Charlize's matted hair, pulling it back and tucking it behind her ears. “But you were soooooooo eager, sooooooo sure of yourself. You and your gullible girlfriends never even read the 'contract' forms you signed. Now - because of your ego - you've all... and I mean this literally as you'll find out... have your tits in a wringer.”
As she said 'wringer' Amanda grabbed Theron's small, firm, breasts with both hands and squeezed as hard as she could... physically reinforcing the mental image of a wringer she'd planted in her mind.
"We're going to have a lot of fun with lovely little Jenny before we're done. She has no idea what's in store for her. She hasn't had life's hard experiences like you had when you were a naive young model in Europe... the stories they tell about you back then! Or those mean old 'the end of the line' ballerinas who did the 'indoctrination' sessions for the ingenues at the Joffre. And, of course, there were... what was it Charlize... five, six, ten? Twenty? 'casting couch interviews' before you - accidentally I've heard - got cast in what turned out to be your 'breakout' role?”
Theron tried to turn away, though it was next to impossible with her arms raised and her head trapped between them. Amanda grabbed her chin and forced her to look at her, “Don't go all modest, Charlize. I know there were AT LEAST five! You don't think people haven't been digging up dirt on you for years... waiting for the right time to expose your sordid past to the world? We know about all your sordid affairs: Sunny; Cat; Angelina... yes, Jen too... and Jeri... well, THAT didn't last long, did it? I don't have time to list all the others, I've only got tonight.
“Let's just say it's an impressive 'who's who' of Hollywood; actresses, directors, agents... people who do NOT want their past exposed any more than you do. Which is good for us both. I have no interest in exposing their foibles, and I'm sure you'll do anything... 'almost' anything... to keep your kinky secrets out of the media. Right?” Charlize tried to nod. At least, Amanda took it as agreement and sighed happily.
“Good. You my darling girl, have my word as long as you behave, that your secrets are safe with me. But, if you go back on your promise, yours won't be only reputation and career ruined... when we're done, Ryan, Bell, Aniston, Lawrence, Lively... and so many others careers will all be in the toilet bowl swirling around and going down right there with yours. We'll throw you all on the trash heap and never blink....”
Amanda stopped mid-sentence when there came a loud knocking at the door, someone banging a fist on the sheet metal. "Oh, great," Righetti chuckled, "your ride is here. Guess I better get you cleaned up." She reached behind and Charlize heard the squeal of metal on metal as she turned on the shower. Theron let out a yelp as ice cold water blasted out of the shower head onto her muddy, but otherwise naked, body! In seconds, she was shivering and shaking as the cold water poured down on her head, over her shoulders, down her back, carrying away the muddy residue.
As the mud ran down over and between her firm breasts, her smooth belly, her round, firm, ass, trickled between her thighs and streamed down her legs before disappearing in the floor drain; Charlize's teeth chattered and her lips turned blue. Amanda watched Theron's lithe body gradually reappear from beneath the mud, then she went to the door to admit her visitor. Charlize didn't couldn't lift her head, just let it hang limp as her core body temperature dropped from the ceaseless pounding of icy water that leached the warmth from her pours.
A hand reached around her to turn off the shower, but she didn't bother to open her eyes, just felt hands on her body, felt the handcuffs release from her wrists. Her numb legs couldn't support her and she slumped into the arms of two women - she could tell that much. They carried her to a table and laid her on her back, then four warm hands began to vigorously massage her frigid body, warming her as they restored her circulation.
She didn't open her eyes until she felt hands om the insides of her thighs go a little too high. When they reached their intended target her eyes popped open and a gasp caught in her throat. It couldn't be! No! Not her! At that instant, she finally knew the identity of the malevolent power behind the devious plan to destroy her and her stable...then she understood her dire situation and realized it was hopeless. No one - not even Angelina Jolie - would be able to stand up to this sneaky, conniving, wicked, heartless bitch!
"Nicely done," the woman told Righetti. "As we agreed; a cashier's check for $5,000... payable on delivery."
"Thanks," Amanda said, taking the check. "Next time you need rough work done, call me. I like these easy working conditions...and the pay's certainly right."
The woman held Charlize down while Amanda inserted a ball gag in her mouth, secured it behind her head and then handcuffed her hands behind her. The woman took a billowing black robe from a bag and pulled it over Charlize's naked body; fitted a Muslim veil over her face to hide the ball gag; and finished by putting a black head scarf on her to cover her eyes and hide her damp, matted, blond hair. Then the woman took Charlize's arm and pulled her to her feet.
Just then, the shower came on again and the woman stopped to ogle Amanda's muscular body naked under the icy shower as she scrubbed the mud from her body. When Righetti glanced over to take a last look at Charlize; the woman saw a brief smug grin on her face just as she picked Charlize up in her strong arms and held her to her big, firm, bosom; her hard, erect nipple jabbing Charlize in one eye. Theron closed her eyes and stopped struggling, letting herself be carried down the hall and out the back door to be tossed like a sack of dirty laundry into the back of a cargo van.
The woman who'd masterminded her kidnapping - if it even WAS kidnapping - Charlize wasn't sure. She'd signed Marge's contract agreeing to the stipulation, even though she'd been tricked into it. Did that make this a legal 'taking'? But the woman taking her wasn't one who'd beaten her! Can Amanda just 'give' her to somebody else? And what did Stephanie McMahon have in mind for her... because Charlize thought that whatever it was, it was almost but not quite - as important as what would happen to Ryan, Lawrence, Lively, Lohan and poor little Lindsey Pelas once she was out of the way!
Only after they were in the van did Stephanie speak to Charlize. "If you're wondering about that robe, it's a Burqa, Muslim women wear them. If you get out of the van and try to run...with the veil, headscarf and that dress, anyone would think you're a terrorist. And with a gag, you can't say otherwise... with your hands cuffed you can't write or signal. So for now, you're safe with me, but if you try to escape there's a good chance some patriotic redneck will shoot you on sight. So lay back and relax, you'll be at your new home in a couple of hours."
THE * * * * END * * * * FOR * * * * NOW
Bar Brawls #3 & 4 will be next (Lively and Pelas waitress to settle debts to Marge at two Halloween weekend parties)... followed, maybe, by a New Year's Eve party with a lot of my regulars!
Charlize's story will resume - with her still in the back of that van - in early 2018.
Feel free to message me with suggestions/ideas (I may, or may not, do anything other than read them... nothing ventured, nothing gained, and it's unlikely you'll get what you want if you don't ask!)
