Every Saturday night, Batista’s Pub was packed with many a fan of pro wrestling because they knew the former women’s champion Trish Stratus would be blowing through and usually taking on all comers.
Sure enough, it wasn’t even nine o’clock when the busty babe blew through the doors and marched right up to the six foot tall blonde at the bar and shoved her hard enough to go spilling into the patrons next to her. Stacy Keibler was almost lying in the lap of the husband and wife who usually came in to see their favorite female superstar. Stacy, who had been out dressed for a casual night, in a short black mini skirt, matching heels and a slinky white satin top, soon found her blood boiling as she didn’t hesitate to fling herself bodily at the petite Canadian.
Unfortunately, Trish had been dressed for a rumble as she stepped back, planted her sparkling pink boot in the middle of her foe’s abdomen and monkey flipped the amazon across the bar into a tall table. The patrons backed up as wolf whistles began to echo in the establishment while Trish got to her feet. Stacy convulsed in pain as she lay in the puddle of spilt drinks on the woods bar room floor amongst the wreckage of the stools and table.
She was helped up with a handful of her long blonde hair and was whipped over Trish’s shoulder as though she were a sack of potatoes. Stacy’s back made a loud smack against the hardwood floor as she gasped aloud in pain while her antagonist smiled before burying her boot in the back of the taller girl’s head. Stacy rolled over onto her stomach, clutching at her skull as Trish sat down on the taller woman’s back. She reared back in what would’ve been a camel clutch but instead used two fistfuls of Stacy’s blonde hair to bend the taller woman in half.
Trish grinned sadistically as Stacy’s screams were music to the Canadian’s ears. She finally released the amazon so her foe’s face smacked into the floor. As she was pulling Stacy to her feet by her hair again, the taller blonde rammed her elbow between the legs of Trish’s sparkling pink Lycra pants, nailing her hard in the crotch. As the Canadian backed off, Stacy growled like a savage animal and charged across the bar in her bare feet–her shoes having been knocked off after the hairmare–and leveled the shorter blonde with a Spartan kick to the face that left Trish crumpled on the floor.
Using the straps of Trish’s own sparkly pink tank top, Stacy wrapped them around the shorter girl’s windpipe. The amazon planted a foot in the Canadian’s lower back as she pulled on the strap with all of her might; choking the life out of the former women’s champion. Trish’s eyes bugged out as she gagged, trying to pry her own outfit from around her throat. The material finally tore as the crowd was delighted to see Trish’s D cups in all their glory, since her top was also supportive so she didn’t need to wear a bra beneath, while Stacy stumbled back.
“You’re going to pay for that, bitch,” Trish hissed, indicating to her torn attire. The former champ rose slowly, not even bothering to cover up, as she slowly circled her old rival.
“After I’m done wiping the floor with your sucker punching ass, I’ll just take what I owe you out of the money I’ll make pimping your skank ass out to everybody here. Although at your age, you’ll probably only go for a couple dollars, whore,” Stacy retorted and the two of them shrieked like she-cats before coming together to hammer at each other. Both grabbed the other by the hair and threw blind haymakers. Despite being shorter, Trish was a fitness model and had more power behind her blows as she backed the taller actress into the wall.
After winding Stacy with a gut punch that had the amazon bent over wheezing, Trish easily ripped the taller girl’s top down the middle as easily as if it were notebook paper.
“You’ve always been jealous you could never get a pair of real tits like me,” Trish snickered as her fingers traced around Stacy’s perky little nipples. She leaned forward and took Stacy’s left nipple in her mouth while Trish’s right hand slid between the blonde’s long legs.
“Ohh,” she moaned as Trish worked her way past the amazon’s thong and stuck two fingers into Stacy’s pussy.
“God you’re so wet, I knew you were a slut,” Trish said after removing her lips from Stacy’s breast.
“Tell me, how many of the boys in the locker room did you fuck, eh?” Trish interrogated as her wrist pumped in a blur. She gave a light slap to Stacy’s cheek as she bit down gently on the taller girl’s other nipple.
“Oh fuck, Five! Just five! N-not including Vince,” she cried out. Her body shook as Stacy was close to having an orgasm when Trish suddenly stopped, leaving her foe breathless.
“That’s all? Shit…,” Trish pulled her hand from between Stacy’s legs, her fingers slick with the girl’s juices, and started teeing off with karate style sidekicks, burying her boot into the tall blonde’s abdomen. After five or six, Stacy was bent over, gasping; almost genuflecting.
“Five?!” Trish asked incredulously as she took a step back and did her patented Chick-Kick; a roundhouse kick that leveled the other blonde. Trish wasn’t done yet, as she rolled the nearly unconscious Keibler onto her back; she straddled her stomach, taking an extra few shots at Stacy’s belly and small breasts before leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“I know you’ve always wanted a close up of my tits so enjoy it because this is the last time you ever get a real pair of breasts in your face again, cunt,” she hissed before wrapping her arms around Stacy’s head and pulling the blonde’s face into her impressive rack.
Stacy’s arms flailed as Trish mocked her by singing a lullaby.
“Go to sleep…Go to sleep…you’ll never wake up ah-gain…because from now…you’ll be tied…to the bathroom for life…and the men…will use you…as a hoo-man toyy-lettt.”
The Canadian’s head fell back in a loud witch-like cackle but as it looked like Stacy was fading she suddenly was able to grab a handful of Trish’s blonde hair and tug it back hard enough to escape the smother. She took a huge gasp of air before taking a bite out of her opponent’s mammary.
“Oww, fuck!” Trish screamed as her other breast was clawed up by Stacy’s nails. When she was finally able to pull free, Trish shrieked louder as she saw the big red mark from where Stacy had broken the skin.
“You bitch! You marked my breasts! I’m gonna kill you!” But her curses were cut short by the taller blonde as Stacy had gotten up and leveled the Canadian with a spin kick that left Trish spread eagle on the floor. Taking time to shred her foe’s sparkly pants with her nails, Stacy used the remains of Trish’s top to bind the former women’s champion’s wrists behind her back in such a way that it was wrapped around her throat like a leash.
Trish awoke from the pain of her pussy being clawed brought her back to the land of the living. Stacy had Trish in a grapevine; with her wrists immobilized behind her back, the Canadian couldn’t defend herself as the amazon alternated between scratching her opponent’s bare twat and gnawing on the blonde’s big breasts. After a few minutes of torture, Trish was sobbing for Stacy to stop. She helped Trish up onto her knees, using the Canadian’s top like a choke chain as she encouraged all the patrons to line up.
“The only way you’re getting out of this without me ripping those fake bags off your chest is if you satisfy every man and woman in here with that slutty mouth of yours,” Stacy laughed.
“So bitch, how many of ‘the boys’ did you take down your throat? Well let’s see if we can top that tonight, shall we?” Trish could only nod slightly as her face turned red from being hung by her top. As the first man unzipped his fly, Trish looked up to see it was Batista himself.
“Just like old times, right ‘ho?” he chuckled as his massive cock thwapped Trish in the face. “Better get started, bitch, you got a long line behind him,” Stacy cackled and the bar echoed with raucous laughter as the only sounds coming from the nude Canadian was her slobbering on cock.
The End