Image Credit
Natasha’s model (dark hair) is a wrestler for SleeperKidsWorld. You should go check their stuff out just because its super hot and wonderfully produced, but especially if the use of her model added anything to your enjoyment of this story. So, go do that!
Match 1 of 8
“Fox Hunter” Natasha Fox vs “The Blonde Bomber” Jennifer Jones
So the Hunt Begins
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! The Battle Los Angeles arena will be graced tonight by sixteen lovely ladies in all. These lovely competitors will be taking part in our company’s inaugural tournament to crown our first-ever Queen of the Ring.”
Excitement was in the air inside the former warehouse that now acted as the arena for the all-girl Battle Los Angeles professional wrestling promotion. The spectators in the stands had come tonight to watch the first round of the eagerly anticipated tournament to crown the inaugural singles’ champion of the newly established company.
“Every match in this tournament is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time limit, except the title match, which will have no time limit. A fall must be scored by either pin, submission, knockout, disqualification, or countout.”
The electronic theme for the first tournament contestant began to play over the crowd chatter, perfectly suited to stir the audience inside the arena. They had been waiting patiently for this exclusive event to get underway, and when they heard the slow buildup of Foxhunt’s Castlevania1, heads turned towards the black curtains where the first wrestler would enter, led by spotlights that trained themselves on the curtains. On the large LED screen above, a bright red silhouette of a fox appeared, the symbol of this contestant. As the electronic theme gradually picked up in tempo, the curtains suddenly parted to reveal a figure standing in a green Robin Hood-style hooded tunic with orange fox ears and a long fox tail dangling behind her. The werebeast’s right hand held a mock bow, while a quiver was strapped across her chest. The fox hunter’s face was hidden beneath the shadow of her hood while she struck a stylish pose with her bow by her side and her left hand on her left hip, which was thrust to the side. Pausing for a moment to bathe in applause from the crowd, the fox hunter took her time to stroll forward across the runway that stretched from the entrance to the ring apron, where she stopped again.
As the Fox logo faded away on the big screen, it was replaced by the words, Be the Hunter, Not the Hunted.
The music had reached an ebb at this point, but just as it started to pick up again, the hooded lady pulled her hood back in one motion to reveal a face well known to wrestling fans. As cheers rose from the stands, the sultry Natasha Fox stepped through the ropes into the ring, the first competitor to ever take center stage inside the Battle LA ring. The brunette slid her bow towards her corner, where it was quickly retrieved by an alert staffer, and started to work her fox hunter costume down her shoulders. Underneath her tunic, she wore a black one-piece swimsuit with red straps and side panels. The Adidas logo was printed in white above her left breast, and the Adidas three-stripe pattern ran diagonally down both sides of her body in white. Each step she took was made in a pair of white wrestling boots, also by Adidas, with the logo in black on each outward-facing side of her boots, and black laces to match. Either the Fox was a big fan of the brand, or she had picked up a corporate sponsor.
Natasha made an impression not only with her Castlevania Foxhunter gimmick, but also with the way she had worked the traditional colors of an English fox hunter into her ring appearance. The contrasting black and red of her outfit complemented her fair, porcelain white complexion, and her long, dark chocolate brown hair that hung slightly past her shoulders. Her well-groomed mane, parted on the left side of her crown, framed her lovely face. Her brown eyes were accented by a touch of gray eyeliner to enhance them. Her lips were a healthy and attractive natural shade of pink. Her cheeks were accentuated by a natural looking pink blush. A small but eye-catching temporary tattoo, featuring a bright red stylized fox silhouette, adorned her left upper arm, while a clip-on stainless steel bangle with pentahedral studs featured prominently on her right wrist, completing her look.
“First in our ring tonight, standing five feet and five inches tall, weighing one hundred and twenty pounds, hailing from the Peach State, Natashaaa… Foxxx!!!”
“That’s right, ladies and gents, the Fox has arrived,” Natasha (33-26-31 in) declared under her breath as she stopped in the center of the ring to strike a pose for the spotlights, tossing her fox tail costume behind her where it was quickly claimed for safekeeping. She first crossed her arms in front of her body before sweeping them upwards to flex both biceps like a bodybuilder might in competition. All the while, she flashed a smile that more resembled a smirk. Natasha was no bodybuilder, but she was proud of the work she put into her guns in the gym. Everyone could see that the Fox kept herself in shape and ring-ready, and drew cheers for her physique. She held the pose for a few seconds before lowering her arms, crossing them back in front of her body and pausing for a moment to let the cameras gobble her up.
With three years of pro-style experience in the Atlanta region already under her belt, Natasha was making the move to Battle LA after receiving a personal invitation from its general manager. Rough, unscripted all-girl action and the opportunity to be crowned the inaugural champion made the invitation too good to pass up. Finished with her posing, Natasha moved towards the edge of the ring furthest from the runway she had used to enter, latching on to the top rope with her left hand. She leaned backwards, turning her head around to smile at the crowd while flexing her right bicep, and held the pose while camera flashes continued to go off all around her. The Fox projected the aura of a seasoned veteran, a badass who did not need to earn her spot in the final. While her fans appreciated this, she did come across as a touch overconfident, even cocky about her chances.
Letting go of the top rope, Natasha dropped on all fours in a playful impersonation of the sleek, cunning predator that she had adopted as part of her name. She pushed herself up slowly with both palms on the canvas, smiling as she got up into a sitting position, keeping her legs together as she swung them to the left side of her body. At the same time, she leaned over to her right, keeping her upper body supported with her right arm as she ran her left hand slowly down her left thigh to her boot.
Pictures immediately went up on social media declaring the arrival at ringside of “Dat Foxy Lady”. Not that she was gunning for that moniker, but it could not hurt in the inevitable popularity race she was going to be running.
Gradually, letting the music guide her movements, she rose to her feet and strolled leisurely to her corner, which had blue turnbuckle pads. The opposing corner had red pads, while the neutral corners had black pads, which mimicked a Japanese-style ring setup.
As a programmer, Natasha spent most of her workday behind a screen and keyboard. She was a self-confessed nerd in many respects and a video game lover as well. When she was in the ring though, another personality started to emerge. Her colleagues at the office would probably have a difficult time recognizing the shy, introverted and geeky gamer as the brash, confident, and foxy heel, unafraid to show off her physique and command the attention of the audience.
“Perfect ten outta ten, Nat!” whispered the brunette to herself, pleased with the way she had made her first entrance into the Battle LA ring. That would be a difficult scene to forget, exactly her intention when she had composed it in her head. No way anyone’ll top that!
The crowd quieted itself as Castlevania died away. The screen display switched to show a new logo featuring blonde girl wearing a WWII-style leather aviator helmet and jacket over a black bodysuit or swimsuit sitting on a stylized wing with the words “Blonde Bomber” to her right. A more familiar theme pop theme, which the spectators in the arena recognized and responded to, began to play. The upbeat notes belonged to Kelly Clarkson’s Stronger, though the lyrics had been altered.
You think that you’re the best here
Ruling all alone
You think that you’re superior
And do the things you want
You think you got the best of me
Think you’ve had the last laugh
Bet you think that I’m just as good as gone
Think you left me broken down
Think that I’d go running back
Baby you don’t know me, ’cause you’re dead wrong
The spotlights played about on the high ceiling for a moment before training themselves again on the black curtains. When they parted a short while later, a voluptuous blonde beauty emerged, wearing a WWII-style bomber jacket made of brown leather. The same logo had flashed on the screen was sewn into the back of her jacket, which she wore over a skintight Speedo Aquablade swimsuit. The suit encased her delectably curvy figure in a sapphire blue shell with vertical panels that had a visually slimming and lengthening effect on her full figure. Her legs were encased in sheer pantyhose, giving them a deliciously smooth, shiny finish. Stopping to let the spotlights bathe her, Jenny lowered her chin and looked down to avoid their glare, allowing the eager photographers in the stands to get their shots. She struck an eye-catching pose with her right hand on her right hip, head tilted downwards towards her left, left arm hanging straight down behind her left thigh, left foot resting slightly forward while her right foot was parked slightly to her rear. Meanwhile, her soft, honey blonde curls fell in an apparently careless manner past her heart-shaped face and down over her chest on the left side of her body, and behind her back on the right side. She wore a minimum of makeup, mainly to cover up blemishes left behind by teenage acne. She did not need much else given her healthy, glowing complexion, lovely hazel eyes and perfectly proportioned pink lips.
“Ladies and gents, the second lovely lady to grace our ring tonight, standing five feet, six and a half inches tall, weighing one hundred and forty pounds… hailing from the Golden State… the Blonde… BOMBERRR… Jennifer Jooones!!!”
Just as the first verse came to an end, Jenny (35-28-38 in) lifted her chin as the spotlights lifted, her face lighting up as her lips formed into a radiant smile. Even without ruby red lipstick and mascara, her appearance exuded the nostalgic appeal of a blonde Hollywood bombshell, the type of glamor that had mostly been lost to time in America. As the chorus started, she raised both her hands into the air to clap to the beat and urged the crowd to sing along. The arena grew a bit more raucous as they did so, karaoke-style, the lyrics appear above her head on a big screen.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn’t mean you beat me ’cause I’m down!
What doesn’t kill you makes a fighter
Makes you that much mightier
Doesn’t mean I’m done just ’cause I’m down!
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, stronger
No, you won’t make me cry!
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn’t mean I’m done just ’cause I’m down!
Natasha looked miffed, perhaps even jealous, that the blonde making her way across the runway was able to rouse the crowd the way she did. Thick bitch, she thought to herself as she watched the Blonde Bomber do a spin halfway across the runway and wave at the audience in place. She blew a kiss to her fans on either side of the runway before continuing to make her way towards the ring, clapping to the beat of her song. The brunette stood with feet apart and fists resting on her hips, her impatience and irritation palpable from her expression. Her lips were curled to the left, and if her disdain for her opponent were not clear enough, she shook the top rope with her left hand while beckoning her opponent with her right.
“Hey! Stop wasting time and get in here already!” she shouted to no avail, drowned out by Jenny’s music and the crowd noise.
The Blonde Bomber held her arms out as she made her final approach, a brilliant smile on her face as she mimicked a plane flying along the ring apron to the red corner. Once there, she climbed the ropes so that her right boot was parked on the top turnbuckle, while her left boot was steady on the middle rope. From her perch, she held her right arm up, flashing a V for victory sign to cheers.
The Fox fumed, glaring at her opponent while wishing for her annoying music to stop playing. She gripped the top rope on either side of her corner angrily, shaking them to try and get Jenny’s attention. She recalled giving her honest opinion of the Blonde Bomber a week to the Japanese reporter who had interviewed her at the official press conference for this tournament.
“Do you think you have what it takes to be the inaugural singles’ champion of Battle Los Angeles?”
Natasha had given the reporter a wry smile before issuing her snarky reply, “Well, if you wanna be a champ, you better at least look the part.”
While it was not clear if Natasha was criticizing Jenny for being curvy or for being blonde and a touch ditzy, or perhaps for both, the intent of her words to sting was clear. Moreover, she had been spoken just loud enough for the blonde to hear them, adding an an eye roll for emphasis as she addressed the tall and attractive female reporter, who held a digital recorder in front of her. After speaking, she had glanced over at Jenny with folded arms and narrowed eyes. Jenny had chosen not to confront Natasha at the time, instead turning to answer the reporter’s question calmly when the Japanese lady approached her.
“Your opponent said you don’t look like champion. What do you think?”
Jenny pursed her lips for a moment. That was rude of Natasha, she thought, but she was not going to respond with the same kind of negativity. “I’m going into this tournament with every intention of becoming the inaugural champion. I don’t care if or how others judge me. As my mom used to tell me, you don’t judge a book by its cover. That’s foolish.” Jenny brushed a few strands of hair back from the left side of her face as she looked up at a slight angle to make sure she looked directly at the reporter’s face. Jenny had maintained a calm composure and sounded professional, but her muted rebuke instantly earned her a cold stare from Natasha.
“Hey, blondie!” the brunette had shot back hastily. “Got something to say to me?” When she got no response from the blonde, she had taken a few steps toward her assigned opponent. The screen behind them had a fighting game-style matchup screen with illustrated portraits of both competitors; the screen provided a suitable backdrop as the tension between the two women was amplified many-fold. Jenny turned to face Natasha as the brunette drew close. Neither lady was about to yield to the other, especially in front of the reporter. Paraxodically, the presence of a third party kept them from coming to blows right at that moment even as it kept them from backing down altogether.
“It’s okay, you bimbo. I’m gonna knock you right outta this tourney and back on to Malibu Beach were you belong,” Natasha declared confidently, placing both hands squarely on her hips.
The Blonde Bomber folded her arms in response, looking displeased with the Fox’s aggressive and arrogant tone. “You’re welcome to try, but you better be ready to back up that threat with more than just hot air when we get in the ring.”
Natasha had laughed at Jenny’s comeback, folding her arms as well as they stood facing each other, chests and noses bumping. A difference of a mere inch separated the two in height, so though Jenny had considerably more heft than the relatively slender Natasha, the brunette acted aggressive, leaning into her taller and bigger opponent while using a mocking tone to say, “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough, blondie. This Fox don’t play, especially not inside the ring.”
The Blonde Bomber had stared back into the Fox’s brown eyes with cool blue eyes, remaining impassive in the face of her cocky display. “Bring it, foxy. This blonde doesn’t back down from any challenge.”
The Fox had answered with a sly one-sided smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll give ya a challenge you won’t forget.”
While the interview had concluded without any overt fireworks, the tension in the air inside the arena seemed to rise as the Blonde Bomber now closed in on the ring. Nat gave Jenny a wry smile as she closed in on the ring, now walking briskly to finish her approach. The brunette beckoned the blonde into the ring with her left index finger.
“Hey, blondie, we ain’t got all day!” hissed Natasha, impatient to get the match started. Using her right hand to brush her hair back from her face, she walked towards the center of the ring with arms akimbo. She continued to glare at Jenny, who was still perched on the turnbuckle in her corner. As if she felt Natasha’s eyes on her, the blonde lowered her arms and parked her hands on her hips, lowering her gaze to meet her opponent’s.
“Hurry up and get down here, you!” the Fox yelled, not hiding her irritation
“Sounds to me like someone’s in a hurry to get squashed!” the Bomber shot back with a smile, loud enough for the nearby spectators in the stands to hear. They reacted with laughter and whistles, and shouts of “Jen-ny! Jen-ny!”
The brunette answered with a dirty look, her eyes narrowing as the cheerful blonde started to get under her skin. She rushed forward angrily towards her opponent, halting only when the referee blocked her from getting to the ropes. Unable to get past the ref, the fair-skinned Fox reached over the official’s left shoulder to give the rosy-complexioned Bomber a middle finger that summed up her feelings towards Jenny at the moment.
“Looks like someone’s scared of being squashed,” the brunette replied testily, putting her hands back on her hips.
Jenny made her way down to the ring apron on her own time, casually sliding her jacket down her shoulders and passing it to an assistant on the floor below before stepping through the ropes. “Let’s find out who’s gonna be the squasher and who’s gonna be the squashee!” she said as she casually rotated her right and her left arms a few times, warming herself up. Smiling at the scowling Natasha, the blonde interlocked her fingers and pushed her palms outwards to stretch her arms, strolling casually in the meantime towards the center of the ring.
The female referee, although an inch shorter than Natasha, looked fit and strong in her figure-hugging black and white-striped shirt and black athletic leggings. She wore a stony expression on her face that contrasted with the shock pink highlights running through her bunned up black mane. “Ladies, that’s enough for now. You’ll have your chance to mess each other up in a second. Now, listen up, cuz here are the rules. I will not hesitate to disqualify you if you fail to heed them. No punches to the face. No punches to the groin. No biting. No eye gouging. No weapons. If I see something I don’t like, I will call you out. If I start a five count, you better stop what you’re doing. Got it?”
Both the Foxhunter and the Blonde Bomber nodded.
“Good. Shake hands or not, I don’t care. But let’s see a good, clean first match, ladies. Set the standard for the other girls to follow, clear?”
Despite the earlier friction between them, Jenny extended her hand in a show of good sportsmanship. Natasha glanced downwards, contemplating it briefly before shaking it wordlessly with pursed lips. Both girls were confident of their ability, and were eager to overcome the first obstacle on their way to the championship. Standing in their respective corners, they composed themselves while eyeing each other, awaiting the opening bell.
The audience were also awaiting the same.
DING! DING!
Natasha, impatient to make an immediate impact, sprung forward from her corner towards Jenny, accelerating quickly into a run. Jenny was just starting to raise her hands defensively when the Fox threw her right arm forward. She aimed to catch the blonde with a lariat across her collarbone before she could get her guard up.
THWACK!!!
Natasha looked bewildered as she found herself stopped in her tracks. Her arm had made contact with her opponent’s chest, but had bounced off, painfully. She had expected to floor the Blonde Bomber, but Jenny remained standing, having only moved a full step back. Jenny’s slightly pained expression that she had felt the blow, but the Fox seemed to have emerged from that collision the worse for wear. The Fox clenched her teeth, wincing as she rubbed the spot on her right arm that had struck the Blonde Bomber earlier. Her mind was rapidly processing the situation and formulating a suitable response. Before the blonde could retaliate, the brunette quickly turned and ran for the ropes behind her before Jenny could grab hold of her, causing the Bomber to catch a handful of air. Using the rebound to build even more momentum, Natasha charged once more towards Jenny, this time with her left arm raised for a straight-armed clothesline across the collarbone.
Another loud smack was heard. Again, Jenny was left staggering back but she was definitely still standing. Natasha, on the other hand, was backing away from the Bomber, rubbing both her arms painfully. Once again, her attempted attack had done the Fox more damage than her target.
“God, that hurt!!!” the Fox blurted out, not pleased at all that her second attack had not done any better than her opener. She glared at the Blonde Bomber, who despite the added momentum of her attacker, had been knocked back only a step and a half this time.
Jenny rubbed her right hand across her collarbone, the searing sensation from Natasha’s two blows wearing off. “Oh, you don’t know hurt yet, honey,” the bombshell replied, her expression now dead serious.
Oh crap…
The Fox backed up while she tried to think of another move to use; Jenny, however, was determined to not give her any opportunity to attack again. The Bomber strode towards her opponent, her body language indicating confidence that the brunette could not stop her. Natasha took great offense at being dismissed like that. She had to quickly show the audience that she was a contender, or she would lose their support for good. As her opponent approached, the Fox aimed her right forearm at Jenny’s face; however, the Blonde Bomber ducked under the attempted strike, pushing Nat’s upper arm upwards and over her right shoulder while extending her left arm between the brunette’s legs. The Fox gasped in surprise as Jenny’s left arm hooked around her right thigh, clapping her left hand against her right butt cheek. The Bomber proceeded to scoop Natasha up from the mat with little apparent effort.
“WHOA!!!” the Fox yelped involuntarily as she felt her world turn upside down. Her attacker’s right forearm wrapped itself around her throat, her right hand clamped tightly against the base of Natasha’s neck. The Blonde Bomber proceeded to turn about in the ring, parading the Fox aloft at a precariously high angle, asserting her control over her foe while drawing raucous applause from the crowd for her display of dominance.
Dammit! Natasha cursed inside her head as Jenny paraded the Fox’s body like a paperweight. She had not expected the blonde to be this strong. “Lemme go! Lemme go you!!!” she protested nervously, her left hand pressing on her attacker’s right thigh while her right hand slapped and pushed on her back, trying to see if she could slip out of the blonde’s grasp.
The Bomber smiled as she took advantage of the opening that the Fox had given her. “Awww, how could I say no when you ask sooo nicely?” she quipped, a big smile on her face as she looked at the back of Natasha’s head. The blonde proceeded to draw a full breath into her lungs before pushing her opponent’s lower half over into the air and sending her slender body down to the mat, the Fox’s limbs trailing the arc that her body made.
“AAAGGGHHH!!!” screamed the Fox as she landed on her back from the ring-shaking slam. She was flat on her back for the moment, her arms lying stretched out while her legs were bent, boot soles planted on the canvas. “Ohhh… shiiit…” she groaned, stunned by the ease with which the Bomber had shrugged off her attacks and by her crushing response.
There was no doubt in the minds of those watching that the Blonde Bomber was currently in charge. She got up on her feet in a flash, even as Natasha groaned and struggled to move. When the Fox opened her eyes, they quickly widened in fear as their owner realized what was—incoming!.
BAM!
Jenny landed on top of Natasha’s midsection in the shape of a cross, pressing her flat against the canvas with the full weight of her voluptuous body. The brunette’s body jacknifed momentarily from the impact before her limbs returned to the canvas in no real order.
“Count it ref!” Jenny urged the business-like referee with a smile as she held the dazed Natasha down with her body weight, grabbing the Fox’s left arm with both hands while, at the same time, scissoring her right arm between her legs.
The ref was quick to oblige, raising her hand as she prepared to deliver the three-count.
“ONE!!!”
“TWO!!!”
Just before her hand could come down against the canvas a third time, however, the ref was interrupted by a loud cry of frustration. The pinned brunette bucked her opponent’s thick body upwards, expending a fair amount of effort to dislodge the heavier Jenny. The blonde was disappointed, but not surprised that her opponent was able to escape, for now at least.
Natasha groaned as she tried to turn to her right. Jenny kept her eyes on the brunette, and before she could get up, positioned herself to the right of the Fox. As soon as she managed to sit up, Jenny helped her up on to her feet by using her left hand to grip the brunette’s right upper arm. The still woozy Fox found herself standing upright before realizing that her attacker was standing right next to her. Panicked, she yanked her right arm free of Jenny’s grip before snapping her right elbow backwards towards the blonde’s face. The Bomber ducked by crouching forward, causing Natasha’s elbow to sail over her head while putting her in a perfect position to get her left arm around the Fox’s waist while hooking her right arm around the back of her opponent’s right thigh. Jenny made it look almost effortless as she scooped Natasha up from the mat once more.
“Oh m—whoaaa!!!” The Atlanta gal found herself being carried almost level with the mat by Jenny like a sack. “L-leggo, freaking leggo-a-meee!!!” she protested, holding on to the Blonde Bomber’s shoulders with both hands, well aware of what was about to happen but helpless to prevent it.
Jenny, on the other hand, took full advantage of another chance to show off her strength. She spun her victim about half a circle before leaning over to her left side and falling towards the mat, slamming Natasha back-first on to the canvas once more, but adding some of her body weight to the impact. Jenny’s ample bosom bounced inside her swimsuit following the perfect sidewalk slam, coming to a stop only as she hooked her right arm around the back of the brunette’s left knee and pulled her leg up for another quick pin attempt, signaling the referee by slapping at the canvas twice with her left hand.
The ref dropped to the mat to begin a new three-count.
“ONE!!!”
“TWO!!!”
Jenny barely looked disappointed when Natasha kicked out of the leghook pin. She had guessed that a wily veteran like the Fox would not go down that easily; the pin attempts had been intended to wear Natasha down rather than to win the match outright. Now with the brunette visibly straining to get herself up to a sitting position, the blonde could march up behind her to help her up.
“Come on, Nat, on your feet. I’m just getting warmed up.” Jenny gripped the Fox’s right elbow with her right hand and pulled the smaller brunette up, supporting the rest of her body weight by pulling on the red straps of her suit where they met behind her back. The resulting intrusion of spandex and tension on Natasha’s lower half convinced her to quickly try and support her own weight. Still dazed, the brunette could barely protest when the curvy blonde pressed her belly against her back, and crossed the Fox’s arms in front of her body. Jenny quickly wrapped both of her arms around Natasha’s crossed arms and her waist, hugging the Atlanta girl tight against her body. The brunette’s head spun left and right in panic, but before she could utter a word, the blonde effortlessly hoisted the brunette into the air. The Fox shook her head in protest, her feet trying to feel the mat but not finding it.
“W-wait!!! No, p-put me down! Put me down!!!”
“Oh honey, that’s just what I was about to do!” Jenny smiled, trying to get Natasha’s dark hair out of her mouth before suddenly arching her back while lifting her opponent’s body up and over. Nat crashed into the mat, her neck and upper back suffering the brunt of the impact. Even the Fox’s fans were not sure if she would be able to escape this time as the Blonde Bomber made her third pin attempt.
“ONE!!!”
“TWO!!!”
“THR—”
Once more, Natasha escaped, rolling out of the pin to the side, just before the referee’s hand hit the mat. This time she landed in a prone position, her face turned to the left, hair scattered messily on the canvas, her labored breaths moving the strands that lay across her face. Her left arm and leg were bent, lying on her side. Her right arm lay straight, at a 45 degree angle from her body, with palm facing up, while her right leg lay extended outward. Her suit had ridden partway up her butt cheeks, emphasizing her cute bottom; however, the last thing the Fox wanted was to be photographed in this position. She knew she was in trouble; what she did not know was how to halt Jenny’s relentless offensive.
“Uggghhh, goddammit…” groaned the brunette.
“C’mon, Foxy, you know the drill,” Jenny sighed. She had expected that her German suplex pin might end the match, but her opponent had escaped, making it necessary to work her some more. She clamped her left hand on the back of Natasha’s neck while latching her right hand on to the brunette’s right upper arm. The sweat on Natasha’s skin, however, was making the Fox a bit more slippery than before. Still a bit woozy, the Fox reacted on reflex, jerking her right arm away. The Blonde Bomber lost her grip momentarily, and though she tried to recapture her opponent, Natasha proved quicker than Jenny, quite literally beating the blonde to the punch.
The Atlanta girl threw her right elbow backwards as hard and fast as she could in a desperate attempt to regain a foothold in this match. She was rewarded by the sound of air gushing from Jenny’s open mouth as her elbow struck the blonde’s soft tummy. As the blonde doubled over, she received a second elbow to the chin that caused her head to snap backwards and made her let go of the brunette altogether. Natasha was still hurting, but she had earned herself a moment’s respite. The Bomber was forced to backpedal from the blow to her chin.
The Fox sought to catch her breath, but knew that she did not have much of a window before the momentarily stunned Bomber would come at her again. Jenny had managed to regain her footing, gripping her chin with her right hand while wrapping her left arm around her tummy. She was not amused by the two blows she had received in succession. Natasha held back, allowing Jenny to come at her first. The blonde swung her left forearm forward at the brunette’s face. Natasha raised her right arm to block the incoming blow, and used her left hand to deflect an attempt to grab her by Jenny’s right hand. This opened the California girl up to a counter, which her Atlanta opponent delivered with prejudice. Natasha demonstrated her striking prowess, using her right fist to punch her opponent in the belly, making her bend forward and lower her head for another blow to the chin, this time courtesy of a Euro uppercut that snapped her head back once more in a blur of blonde curls. As Jenny reeled from her opponent’s accurate strike to her chin, she stumbled backwards with her arms up, trying to maintain her balance.
This time, Natasha demonstrated her agility and speed, grabbing Jenny’s outstretched left arm by the wrist using her left hand as she turned to face the blonde’s left side. She snaked her right arm around her opponent’s jaw and grabbed the back of her head. The Bomber, still stunned, started to protest when the Fox jumped up from the mat, and allowed gravity to pull her and Jenny downwards. The blonde took yet another hit to the jaw as she crashed into her opponent’s shoulder, Natasha landing on her butt while Jenny was left teetering on her knees, clutching her aching jaw. The Fox spun about swiftly, rising on one knee as she did so. She was surprised to see her victim still on her knees, but quickly took care of the precarious situation by backhanding Jenny across her breasts. Unable to defend herself, the Blonde Bomber screamed while her girls jiggled about inside her suit from the impact of her attacker’s blow, stopping only when she wrapped her arms around her chest. Jenny’s fans protested this dishonorable attack loudly as Natasha held her hands out, challenging them to prove she had done anything wrong.
The referee issued a warning to Natasha but could do little else for now; boob shot were not expressly forbidden. As Jenny remained on her knees, supporting herself with the knuckles of her right hand while continuing to protect her chest with her left arm, the Fox came up from behind her to finish her offensive turn. Grabbing a handful of her opponent’s blonde tresses with her left hand, the brunette jerked the Bomber’s head backwards violently, giving everyone a good look at her expression of pain. A fleeting moment later, the Fox shoved her victim’s head forward as she went down on her left knee, smashing Jenny’s face into the canvas, bouncing it violently off the mat.
Fans of the Fox were delighted as this turn of events. Finally, Natasha had registered enough damage to make her bigger opponent hurt, and she was ecstatic. The Bomber lay face down at the moment, kicking weakly and scratching at the mat as she tried to get up. The brunette was displeased with this continued sign of resistance, and quickly stomped on her fallen opponent, first on her curvy butt and thereafter on her back. As Jenny grabbed at her back, emitting a shrill cry of pain, her fans booed to show their displeasure. Natasha was not pleased at their disapproval. She glared angrily at the stands and yelled at the Bomber’s fans, “Be quiet while I deal with this bimbo!!!”
The Fox dug into Jenny’s blonde mane to grab two handfuls of her beautiful tresses, and twisted them painfully, almost making the Bomber scream. Jenny had to bite her tongue as she grabbed at Natasha’s hands, trying to loosen her grip on her hair while getting her feet under her to reduce the tension on her scalp. The Fox thereby forced her opponent to her feet before kneeing her in the stomach to double her over.
“Guuuhhh!!!”
“That’s right, sing for me, you thick bitch,” Natasha grinned, jerking Jenny in roughly for a front facelock using her right arm while gripping her opponent’s right arm with her left hand.
“You… wish!” Jenny croaked in reply,
Natasha sniggered, tightening her grip against Jenny’s sore chin with her right ulna, wrenching her head upwards and making the facelock as uncomfortable as she could for the blonde bombshell. She was feeling confident that control of the match was now hers. Jenny tried to pull her right arm free but Natasha maintained her grip on it. Drawing in a full breath, she made her move before the Bomber could make another attempt at escape.
“Don’t worry, after this move, you will.” The Fox lifted her right foot from the canvas before bringing it down hard to stomp on the mat. As her weight transferred to her right foot, she spun her body about in a semicircle, forcing Jenny to turn with her, a modified arm trap swinging neckbreaker in motion. This was a move that Natasha had literally put her own spin on, stamping her own trademark on it. The move she dubbed Natashacide saw her pause briefly after the swing, with both wrestlers arched backwards, her right arm hooked around Jenny’s throat, the Blonde Bomber’s left arm still in her grip. The pressure on Jenny’s throat and the Fox allowed her victim to gasp in realization at what was happening before continuing with her finisher. Kicking her feet out, the Fox dropped quickly on to her seat. Jenny, in the process, was pulled down forcibly by her attacker’s weight, crashing to the mat on her back and shoulders.
The modified swinging neckbreaker left the Cali girl on her back, blinking through the pain, moaning softly. “Uhhh, what the heck…” Jenny found herself staring up at the ceiling, her right hand on her temple. She had to partly close her eyes, the lights were so darned bright.
“How’d ya like that, plus size? I call it Natashacide.”
Gotta get up. Now! “Ohhh….”
The Atlanta girl had snatched the initiative from her. She was not about to give it up either. The longer she was on her back—
“AAAHHH—!!!” Jenny squealed in shock. Once more she was being lifted by her hair, this time to a sitting position. Her attacker, having expended a good deal of energy, was seeking a more efficient way of subduing the Bomber. The Fox knew that the neckbreaker alone was not enough, but she also needed to rest; Jenny had done a lot of damage earlier on. Getting up on one knee behind Jenny, she hooked her left bicep around her victim’s jaw, her fox tattoo showing prominently as she flexed. Natasha gripped her left wrist tight while pulling it upwards to apply a tight chinlock. At the same time, she pressed her knee against Jenny’s back, even as she pulled back on her head. Hence, she was able to punish Jenny’s sore jaw, hurt her neck, and show off her totem animal in the process.
“Two birds, one stone,” the Fox muttered to herself with a self-satisfied grin. At first, she seemed to be hurting the Blonde Bomber; though partly obscured by her hair, honey blonde locks strewn messily over her face, Jenny’s expression clearly showed that she was suffering. She was slapping and grabbing at Natasha’s left bicep with her left hand as the Fox pulled her head backwards, displaying her prey to the crowd. “Why don’t we give them a better look at that rack, blondie???” cooed the brunette as she forced Jenny’s head to tilt even further back and looked into her eyes. With her knee against the Bomber’s back, she was forcing the blonde’s breasts to strain greatly against the confines of her skintight royal blue suit, her big, taut nipples poking through.
“Ackkk!!!” the blonde protested, her mouth wide open, her cheeks pink from being flustered. Escaping the chinlock, though was the only way out of this situation. She continued to tug at her attacker’s left arm while propping her upper body on her right hand to try and relieve some of the tension on her neck and shoulders. As Natasha maintained her punishing chinlock, Jenny was bringing her feet inwards and attempting to stand.
Her fans noticed this and started urging her on, to Natasha’s dismay. “Jen-ny! Jen-ny! Jen-ny!”
The cheers seemed to energize the blonde to the point where the chinlock seemed to do little other than restrain her. The brunette’s eyes widened in surprise, causing her to switch tactics. Abandoning the chinlock, she now tried to wrap her right arm around the Bomber’s throat and secure a chokehold by grabbing her left bicep. Jenny, realizing the danger, raised her right hand to grab Natasha’s right elbow, while her left hand pulled at her attacker’s left arm, preventing the Fox from securing the potential match ender. Natasha looked as furious as a wild animal with her teeth bared, brows arched, and nostrils flared. As much as she was exerting herself against Jenny, she could not overcome her opponent’s strength and resistance.
“Grrr!” growled Natasha in frustration at being denied. Twisting her left arm free of Jenny’s grip, she quickly clamped her left hand on to Jenny’s trapezius muscle instead. The blonde babyface cried out in pain, her left arm seeming to go limp. She reached back to grab Natasha’s hand, trying to pry her fingers off, while the brunette grabbed her left elbow with her now-free right hand to steady her shoulder claw. Although the Bomber was clearly suffering and slowed down, she gritted her teeth and powered through it, getting slowly up on her feet and forcing the Fox to do the same. Natasha was livid; her race was turning red, sweat ran down her forehead, and her glistening biceps bulged from exertion but Jenny refused to give in. It was clear to the audience that the smaller Fox lacked the strength necessary to make the Blonde Bomber submit.
“Just… give… up…. already!” Natasha commanded her foe through clenched teeth.
“Try… and… make… me!!!” Jenny shot back, stubbornly getting up on both feet
Unable to hold her opponent down, the quick-thinking Fox nimbly switched tactics. She used her grip on Jenny’s left shoulder to spin her around for a swift boot to the tummy once more. As her opponent groaned from the kick to her belly, the Fox pulled her in roughly by the hair for another front facelock. It was obvious what she intended to do next.
“Y… You… do realize… something about that name, don’t you?” Jenny was breathing hard in Natasha’s grip after getting the wind knocked out of her.
“Tell me after I knock you out in front of your fans, tubby!” replied the Fox as she started to windup for another Natashacide. As she started to swing again, Jenny, however, stuck her left leg out to block her attacker’s right, preventing her from spinning clockwise and completing the first part of her finisher. That, and a right-handed punch to the belly, caused Natasha to groan and release her opponent, leaving the Fox doubled over and vulnerable. Though still hurting, the Blonde Bomber gritted her teeth, and like the powerhouse she was known to be, immediately went on the offensive. The brunette found her head caught under Jenny’s right arm. Before she realized what the blonde intended to do, Jenny had caught her limp right arm, and was spinning her about in a suspiciously familiar move. When Natasha found herself looking up, her hair over her eyes and nose, back bent backwards with Jenny’s right arm hooked over her throat, all she could manage was a panicked whimper.
“Oh, s-shit!!!” blurted the brunette as she was struck by realization.
“Yup!” Jenny smiled cheerfully before dropping down on her seat, pulling her opponent down with her. The boards trembled under their combined weight as she laid Natasha out on the mat. After sitting up, turning her torso, and looked down at the barely conscious Fox, Jenny pinched her pink cheeks together with her right hand, and remarked mischievously, “As I was gonna say, Natashacide’s for putting down a Natasha, like how pesticide’s for putting down a pest!”
“Unhhh…” The brunette could only muster a low moan, shocked and hurt by her own signature move. What the hell…
Taking a brief moment to gather her strength, the Bomber kept her eyes on the sly Fox before continuing with her counteroffensive. The California girl forced the dazed Atlanta girl to her feet by turning her head and grabbing the back of her neck as well as her left arm. Natasha, still unable to fully comprehend what was going on, raised her right hand to the side of her head, trying to clear the wool. In the meantime, Jenny quickly ducked her head under her left arm, to the delight of the Blonde Bomber’s fans, who knew what was coming next. The Fox found herself being hoisted aloft on the Bomber’s shoulders, lying on her left side as Jenny pulled down on her head and her left thigh. The brunette kicked and flailed, panic starting to infect her mind, but the blonde remained calm and firmly in control. Moving her feet, she turned her victim slowly about the center of the ring, displaying the Fox for the entire arena to see in one variation of the move she dubbed the Bomb Rack.
“Arrrghhh!!! P-put me down, you!!! Put me down!!!” Natasha’s tortured screams could be heard far from the ring. Her struggling on the Bomber’s shoulders resembled the spasms of an animal in its death throes. In response, Jenny jacked her victim’s body upwards before pulling down on her head and thigh, and repeating this with little sign of fatigue on her part. “Aaaahhh!!! God, that hurtsss y-you bitch!!!”
“Now you’re hurting my feelings, Fox,” Jenny screwed up her lips, unhappy at the insult. “Do you give? Just tell the ref, and I’ll put you down.”
The referee was already close by to check if the Fox was ready to throw in the towel.
“N-no!” Natasha seemed to be close to sobbing at this point. Her spine was being stressed to the point where the pain was becoming unbearable, as were the muscles on the left side of her torso. “I-I won’t…”
Jenny bent her knees before jerking Natasha up and down once more, the brunette’s limbs flopping about like a rag doll’s. “It’s your choice,” she announced.
Submission seemed inevitable, and the crowd roared its approval. The Atlanta girl, however, was unwilling to give in just yet. She hadn’t come all this way to go out in the first round like some damned jobber. Her left arm swung upwards, her left hand latching on to the Bomber’s left breast, causing Jenny to gasp in surprise. In what was either a desperate and cruel act, or more likely, for the intelligent Fox, a calculated escape attempt, Natasha dug her nails into the soft tissue, gripping and twisting it painfully. The Blonde Bomber squealed loudly as the sensitive and nerve-rich part of her body was subject to excruciating punishment. The Fox, hearing her opponent’s response, pulled on and twisted her nipple forcefully before sinking her nails into the soft titflesh again. Stumbling a bit and teetering from this unexpected assault, it was not clear at first if Jenny would be able to sustain the Bomb Rack.
The blonde steeled herself to focus past the shock and pain of Natasha’s boob claw. Her features became set in a look of serious determination, determination to bring this match to its conclusion. “Let go, Foxy… before I make you!” warned the Bomber, her tone of voice making it clear that had no qualms carrying out her threat.
The Fox was just as determined, however, to make her escape. She could feel Jenny trembling under her, and kept up her boob claw. “G-go ahead then… make me!” she gasped defiantly.
Without further words, Jenny gritted her teeth and pumped Natasha’s body up and down, getting the crowd worked up for what her fans would come next. The Fox’s grip on her breast weakened, her back and left side until Jenny calmly uttered the words, “Bombs away.”
With that, she hopped upwards before dropping to one knee, converting her loaded Bomb Rack into a ring-shaking Bomb Drop. Natasha screamed in pain as her body broke across Jenny’s shoulders.
Cheers erupted from the stands following shouts of “KABOOM!” from the stands.
The blonde continued to carry her opponent on her shoulders. She looked grim, and was almost glowering. Lowering her head, she threw Natasha’s broken body down in front of her, letting the Fox spin a full turn before she crashed on to the mat.
More cheers followed. “Jen-ny! Jen-ny! Jen-ny!”
Still on one knee, Jenny threw her blonde mane back with a toss of her head. The blonde’s expression changed when her face returned to the front; she flashed a megawatt smile as she piled herself on top of the fallen Fox, flattening her chest again under her curvy body, and hooked the beaten brunette’s right leg skyward as a formality.
Even more cheers arose. “Pin—her! Pin—her! Pin—her!”
The referee quickly dropped into position to slap the mat and begin the three count. Again, the crowd could see that this was a mere formality, given the shape that Natasha was in. The brunette was whimpering, grabbing the left side of her body, unable to resist. Jenny’s fans counted along with the ref as she nodded her approval, flashing a V sign at the stands.
“ONE!!!”
“TWOOO!!!”
“THREEE!!!”
DING! DING! DING!
“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, by submission, and also, the first to move on to the second round of this tournament, the Blonde Bomberrr!!!”
The Fox looked an absolute mess, her teary eyes hidden under her dark brown tresses. She had come all the way from Atlanta for… this? A lousy first-round exit? She was stunned as she lay on the mat, trying to hide her face under her left arm, annoyed by the lights shining down on her as she was forced to listen to the crowd applaud her opponent.
Jenny on the other hand, looked ecstatic. The blonde stood up as the referee reached for her left hand and raised it in the air to formally declare her victory. She beamed for the cameras, delighted to acknowledge the cheers from the crowd with waves, smiles, and blown kisses. She also flexed her right bicep, parking her left boot lightly on her vanquished opponent’s black-clad chest to pose for her fans. Her theme song started to play again in the background. As happy as she was with the win, however, it was also important for the Bomber to do what she did next.
Once her hand had been lowered by the ref, Jenny stopped posing for her fans. Instead, walked over to her fallen opponent. What happened next surprised those who did not know her well. She bent over and offered her right hand to Natasha, who was straining to get up on her elbows. The Fox looked up, irritated by her opponent’s magnanimity. She was hesitant to accept the offer of help. The Blonde Bomber continued to hold out her hand as the Fox tried to ascertain her intention. Finally, a bit reluctantly, the Atlanta native accepted the California girl’s offer, and allowed the Bomber to pull her to feet. Jenny knew her opponent might not appreciate it, but she gave her a light hug and a pat on the shoulder.
“Good match, Nat.” Jenny rubbed her sore breast gingerly under her royal blue suit, which now bore several dark sweat stains. “Just leave these goods alone next time, okay?”
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…
Natasha narrowed her eyes, holding on to her aching back with her left hand. Stupid song, she thought to herself, as the winner’s theme began playing. Still, she had not seen anything wrong with her attempt to escape Jenny’s finisher. “I dunno, blondie. I might not be able to help myself,” Natasha replied with a faint smile as she swept her long brown hair back from where several strands had been plastered to her sweat-covered face, leaving the Blonde Bomber to puzzle over the double edged meaning of her words.
“Well,” Jenny pursed her lips, not sure what she should say at the moment, “you’re coming out for drinks with us later.” She snatched Natasha’s left hand and raised it aloft to cheers and applause. “For now, take a bow. You’ve earned it.”
The Fox gestured with her right hand at the winner, smirking faintly once again as she did a shallow sideways curtsy like a ballet dancer. “I dunno if bowing and sitting on hardback chairs are what the doctor would prescribe after that damn backbreaker you gave me, though. And… I am not forgiving you for that Natashacide you pulled off on me.”
“Well, I think I might be able to forgive you for that boob claw. How about mutual forgiveness in the near future?” Jenny laughed, shrugging as she sat on the middle rope to let Natasha out of the ring. “By the way, I’m sure I didn’t do it as well as you do, but y’know, I might call it the Propeller Swing or the Prop Start. Something like that to go with the Bomber gimmick.”
“Don’t. Just don’t,” Natasha bit her lip and frowned, holding her left palm out towards Jenny’s face, as if she were telling her to “talk to the hand”. Shortly after stepping through the ropes on to the ring apron, she pointed at the Bomber with her left index finger with a faint smile on her face, “Don’t make me come after you with a torture rack, blondie, cuz you know I can and I will.”
“Oh, as if you could!” Jenny pouted playfully. She stood up and made her way across the reconnected runway, which had earlier been disconnected from the ring apron.
“Oh you bet I can,” Natasha replied coolly as she followed behind, running her eyes up and down Jenny’s back while still clutching her own. “No, you know I can.” She was sure she could pay the Bomber back one day with her own finisher.
“More than welcome to try!” Jenny gave the Fox a friendly pat on her butt. The two made their way back to the black curtains to applause from a crowd that had had its expectations met, or exceeded, even, by an awesome beginning to what promised to be a thrilling tournament.
“At this time, we would like to remind all our fans to vote for the most photogenic of our sixteen contestants; one lucky winner will get access to the exclusive photo shoot we will organize for the top vote-getter among these lovely ladies of Battle LA…”
The End
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