FCBA After Dark (XXX) II

Tale of the Tape:

Stana Katic (46-9-0, 46 KO)

5'9, 46 years old

Celebrity Wrestling Federation

Former FCBA Lightweight Title Holder

Former Jaguar Title Holder (6 Defenses)

vs.

Tyra Banks (26-36-2, 19 KO)

5’10, 50 years old

Free Agent

Former FCBA Welterweight Title Holder

Former FCBA Middleweight Title Holder

(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)

Intro:

"AND NOW! Making her 56th appearance in the ring, fighting under the Celebrity Wrestling Federation flag. Please welcome the Hamilton, Ontario native, standing 5 foot 9, weighing in at 125 pounds, STANAAAAA KAAAAAATIC!!”

Katic's lithe, statuesque frame glistened with a light sheen of sweat under the heat of the overhead spotlights as she slid out of her satin robe and revealed every taut, delicate curve of her bronzed skin. Each athletic twist and shimmy of her upper half caused her modest bosom to swell, her teardropping B-cups mushrooming out the top and bottom of the thin-banded bandeau top belted around her sternum. Katic craned her long stems and dipped into a graceful crouching split, limbering in her corner to some last minute instruction from her corner. Her pale-white string thong was devoured by folds of flesh, finally rising and rearranging the twined, biting string bottoms by hiking them high up her curvy hips. Her hazel bulbs locked with the far corner as her opponent entered; heavy, smoky eye shadow and mascara coating her long lashes in a messy, alluring cat-eye look. Ending her corner show, the brunette arched her rib cage and pressed to her tippy toes against the ropes as she slid into her gloves; throwing her tightly-braided, auburn pony tail over her shoulder before pumping her gloved fists together.

Tyra Banks was one of the most physically and mentally imposing opponents Katic had faced to-date, even at the age of 50. The highly decorated model and runway star still had the goods; reviving the iconic look from her 2019 Sports Illustrated cover and dawning the same pale yellow micro bikini. Her towering, voluptuous frame looked as though it was fit enough to make a run at the Jaguar Title; and cutting down Katic would certainly make her a prime candidate. Banks’ glossy, caramel skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat, her bust overflowing out the top and sides of the thin triangular fabric of her microkini, her plump cheeks split by the bunched material of her cheeky thong. Her long, wavy locks were allowed to flow free; draped between her shoulder blades as she spent the first full minute of her time in the ring barking to get inside Stana’s head.

Round 1/2:

Katic had faced a murderer’s row of towering, physically gifted fighters over the last two years; Aisha Tyler, Palicki, Flair, Swift, Stuhlmann, Moore. Banks was as imposing and bullish as any; flashing her nuclear right hand on a number of occasions in the opener. Katic was largely dormant, but she had Tyra well-scouted. Connecting with the slippery Canadian was another chore entirely, but Banks let the judges know this wasn’t going to be a walkover early; taking the first on the back of some dangerous looking pressure and an overwhelming amount of leather thrown. 10-9 Banks.

After feeling out and clocking the Cali-native’s pace, Katic finally arrived. Banks seemed content to drop anchor mid-ring and let the chase come to her; whipping around like a hurricane any time Stana buzzed close enough to bother. Banks had nothing to lose and she was certainly swinging like it. Stana danced forward after a tepid first minute, ducking a ferocious overhand that spiked just over a rolling shoulder. Skittering back, she feigned again to untether Banks’ coiled right; disarming the unfettered model before slithering in and LACING a waspish one-two against Banks’ navel. Tyra scrunched forward and fell off her mark; grunting as she looped a head-high left over Stana’s ducking forehead. POP-POP; Tyra mewled as a sideways left crushed her ribs, then a brutal uppercut snaked between her cleavage and cracked against the bottom of her jaw. Katic straightened and began to walk Banks down; left to the rack, hook-hook to the hips, uppercut to the liver, sweeping hook to the cheek, STAMPING right to the lips. Banks swayed into the ropes and hid behind her arms; hook-hook-uppercut-hook chugging off her flexing abdomen in the last ten seconds before Katic was forced to abruptly end her flurry. Stana shows her class, but Banks holds on; 10-8 Katic.

Round 3/4:

Some gamesmanship from Banks in the third as the model found her antagonistic streak; spending more time jawing and grappling than boxing. Katic looked increasingly flustered as she was fed through a grinder; bound and pancaked against the ropes for the last minute and a half as Banks periodically pulled back to take a chunk out of her midsection from their twisted clinch.

Katic seemed to have lost her legs as she tried to force a reboot through her system early in the fourth; bouncing on her toes but looking dead-tired in doing so. Banks once again scooped up the lighter brunette by the armpit and flattened her with a busty clinch; pushing Katic into a backpedal until her spine rattled off the post with a gruff exhale. Stana twisted and squirmed as her legs started to slide out from underneath her; awkwardly pinned in the corner as Banks corked her midsection and RAKED a right side-hook off Katic’s flexing abdomen. The brunette hoarsely whimpered as one, two, three, FOUR venomous blades followed; clubbing her hip, slicing below the delicate curve of her rib cage, piercing her sideboob, and finally caving in her ribs with a bony CRUNCH. Katic gagged and buckled sideways; her slender sternum swelling with violent pants as Banks’ busty frame remained glued to her torso. The bound Canadian tried to untangle and force a powerless left-right into Tyra’s midsection, but the domineering model had her handcuffed; craning away and driving a PUNISHING left that mushroomed Stana’s tits and rattled her against the post. Katic mewled as her upper half was sprawled over the ropes; loose, sweat-matted locks strewn over her eyes as Banks lifted a SAVAGE right uppercut and detonated the nuke against the brunette’s chin. Katic squelched as her skull snapped straight back in a mist of sweat, her thighs melting together as she slid down the post and sloshed into Banks; getting a face-full of the model’s heavy rack before spiking messily to her knees. Banks pulled away and let the brunette puddle at her feet; teetering forward and collapsing on her belly with arms and legs spread-eagled at the base of the ropes.

1… 2… 3… 4… Katic’s upper half shook as she coughed and gagged face-down, slowly rising and falling with methodical pants for air as she remained motionless for a few anxious seconds. Her thonged ass perked and jiggled as Banks took a boisterous victory lap around her downed frame; shouting for her to stay down if she knew what was good for her. Finally the Canadian planted both fists at her sides and push-up pressed to all fours; groaning as she did so.

5… 6… 7… Scooping up her mouthpiece, she wobbled to her haunches; taking a graceless seat for another handful of seconds before staggering upright. The last few seconds of the round ticked away as she made it to her heels; cleared by the official just as the fourth expired. Banks makes an EMPHATIC statement, flooring the former Lightweight Champion and extending her lead.

Round 5/6:

With Banks resting on her laurels somewhat in the fifth, Katic was afforded a much needed mental and physical reset. Less bully-ball from Banks meant the Canadian’s speed and fitness could shine; once again plugging away at a largely stationary target and restoring some puncher’s rhythm to the fight.

Banks wouldn’t sit back forever, however; and in the sixth, she began to stalk. Tyra BURST out of her corner in a near-sprint, threatening with a holstered right hand just above her shoulder. Katic matched her pace in a seemingly trepid backpedal; quickly running out of real estate before balletically ducking out of the way and SKEWERING Banks’ navel with a bitter side-hook as she flew by. Tyra tramped past the brunette and wheeled to recover, but just as she turned her head, Katic SLICED a wicked left through her temple. Banks blubbered as her skull swiveled on her shoulders, her arms noodling at her sides as she clumsily careened into the near corner; tossing an elbow over the top rope to try and right the ship before spilling to her knees.

1… 2… 3… Banks was disoriented, but avoided going prostrate; sagging on her knees with a palm gripping the rope as Katic was forced to back away. Tyra huffed and puffed her way back to both feet in a flash; her eyes glazed over but still fixated on what she saw as a vulnerable Katic. Banks was still the aggressor, at least until she took her first step. Tyra barely lunged before Stana swarmed; vaulting in and rattling a machine-gun left-right-left off Banks’ hanging bust. The brunette gagged as her heart stopped, her corked right dissolving as she was buttoned by another hook-hook-uppercut spiking up her abdomen. Banks fell into the ropes in a stupor; a left drumming her hanging orbs and sloshing one of them free from her micro-bikini top, a right-left slicing through her jaw, a METEORIC uppercut crushing her chin. The mystified model folded into the arms of the official as he finally dove in, peeling Katic off and ending the onslaught.

"And your winner, by TKO in Round 6, STANNNAAAAA KAAAATTIC!!!!”

Post Fight:

Despite needing to be saved by the official, Banks was still somewhat coherent as she was dragged to the ground by Katic; the Canadian attempting to force home a surprise takedown and leg-hook pin before Tyra could pull herself together from the TKO. Tyra emphatically kicked out and threw Stana out of her lap, both exhausted fighters floundering to opposite hips as Tyra tried to tuck her freed breast back into her skin-tight micro bikini.

Katic was first to scurry to all fours, trying to crawl toward the far corner before being nabbed by Banks; the bloodthirsty Sports Illustrated model snagging the waistband of Stana’s bottoms and YANKING the lanky brunette back to the canvas. Katic let out a throaty squeal as she was dragged to her belly, the microscopic twine of her string thong twisting and sliding down her bony hips as Tyra roughly worked to disrobe her. A brutal hammer-fist to Katic’s lower back sent the brunette prostrate with a gruff exhale; gagging as Banks mounted her lower half and shred the remainder of her bottoms. Her sheer white bandeau bra was next; tearing at the belted material until she was able to yank it over the mortified Canadian’s shoulders, stripping her completely naked.

Katic clumsily kicked and pedaled as Banks suddenly rose and twisted her digits up in the brunette’s sweat-matted locks; lifting Stana to her knees with one merciless tug. Her bronzed frame arched as Banks pulled straight back on her scalp; her bare breasts softly tear-dropping, her caramel nipples stiffening in the cool arena air, her tight abdomen spasming with heavy contracting breaths as she let out a pleading whimper. Banks snarled as she pulled the protesting brunette all the way up; Katic gracelessly wobbling into a bow-legged split as she extended one hand to grab at Tyra’s wrist and the other to cup her exposed crotch, just barely covering the thick bush manicured above her cunt. Just as Banks circled and leaned in for the kiss of death, Katic THRUST her back heel into the model’s gut. Tyra hoarsely bleated as her grip dissolved, gagging up a mouthful of drool as she genuflect to one knee in the center of the ring.

Katic sprung across the ropes and mounted the corner turnbuckle like a lynx; steadying in a lewd crouch atop the steel post as Banks writhed in the dark below her. After just a quick second to regain her balance, Katic LEAPT, spring-boarding toward Banks’ kneeling frame; only to have the coy model turn and track her projectiling frame just as she left her feet. Banks athletically CAUGHT Katic in mid-air; clamping her vice-grip around the brunette’s slender throat just as Stana landed messily on her feet. Katic’s statuesque frame stretched to her ruby-painted toes as Tyra SQUEEEEEZED tighter; gagging on her own drool as the towering model composed herself in Chokeslam position. The veins in Katic’s neck and temples bulged as her hazel, mascara-smeared bulbs pooled; her flushed features twisting, tear-dropping chest rapidly swelling with anxious pants as Banks drank in the moment. With Katic hanging obediently from her grip, Banks snaked her off-hand around the brunette’s bare ass; sliding her fingers through the sweaty folds between her thighs. Katic softly cooed as Banks clawed deeper into tender, puddling flesh, pulling Stana crotch-to-crotch as she hooked her pelvis for added leverage.

In a split second, Katic was hoisted airborne; drool dripping from her bottom row of pearly white teeth as Banks held her suspended, then DETONATED her single-handed Chokeslam. Katic’s lithe frame EXPLODED spread-eagle as the back of her skull was SPIKED through the mat; squelching as her thighs kicked out into a lewd split as she was hammered through the canvas. The brunette’s hazel bulbs rolled lifelessly into the back of her head; her smoky lashes fluttering, her mouth stretched slack-jawed, her bare sternum violently quaking with a mix of exasperated pants and quick-twitch convulsions. Banks rolled to the Canadian’s hip and craned down to arrest her ankles, slowly tucking Stana’s bronzed thighs to her crunching tummy. Katic’s thick bush of public hair bristled as Banks traced her fingers just over her mound, her plump slit blossoming as she was tucked into a gaudy, obscene Matchbook pin. Banks draped herself carelessly over the folded brunette’s calves, Stana’s crunched frame rocking with short, swelling pants as rolls formed on her tight midsection; completely comatose as the 3-count rang out and ended her humiliation.

Tale of the Tape:

Amber Nova (7-1-0, 7 KO)

5'4, 32 years old

Celebrity Wrestling Federation

vs.

Paige VanZant (7-5-0, 7 KO)

5'4, 30 years old

Global Boxing Syndicate

(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)

Intro:

“AND NOW! Making her 9th appearance in the ring fighting under the Celebrity Wrestling Federation flag. Please welcome the South Carolina native, standing 5 foot 4, weighing in at 110 pounds, AMBERRRR NOOOOOVA!!”

Amber Nova’s chiseled frame was made for the skimpy CWF attire; her sleek, rippling abdomen tightly strung up in a thin-banded bandeau top that mushroomed her perky B-cups tightly to her sternum. Her slender hips were bit into by a high-waisted string thong that split her plump, bronzed cheeks; dark mascara coating her narrowing eyes as she shadow-boxed down the ramp and into the ring. Adapting her grandiose wrestling entrance into a much more modest display, Nova stretched and limbered as she settled into her corner and swept her long, high pony tail over a shoulder.

VanZant had fully embraced her career change; moving from the octagon to the modeling circuit, as evidenced by her strikingly skimpy attire. Clad in a sheer, matte black micro bikini top and string thong, Paige’s sculpted frame was every bit as jaw-dropping as Nova’s. The former MMA fighter was still remarkably fit; having added a ton of bulk and muscle to her formerly trim figure.

Round 1:

The blonde and redhead were an ideal contrast of figures and personalities to meet in the ring. McElhone had joked before the bout that this deserved to turn into a best-of-3; with professional wrestling and mixed martial arts contests to follow. For now, the two met in the ring most foreign to both of them. Nova had feasted on athletically gifted fighters in her short career; taking down a laundry list of former and current professional wrestlers on her way to an impressive 7-1 mark. After a 4-0 start to her post-MMA career in the FCBA, VanZant had fallen off the pace as of late; dropping four in a row in 2022 before winning her last.

Seeing another trim, professional athlete opposite her seemed to wake something dormant in the former MMA star. Even more than VanZant was a stellar grappler, she was oozing with raw power. Nova backtracked after a seesaw opening minute; her tight abdomen rippling once, TWICE as Paige rifled side-winding hooks into her ribs. A HEAVY left cut across her bust and pushed her into the ropes with a grimace; a right-left-right sawing through her crunching midsection before an uppercut crashed into the bottom of her swaying guard and pushed her deep into the corner. Nova wavers in the face of Paige’s early pressure, but does well not to crack. VanZant narrowly, 10-9.

Round 2/3:

Nova responded much like her namesake implied, with a supernova explosion of athleticism. Amber ducked a heavy, reckless overhand from Paige in the first twenty seconds and the burnout was on; cork-screwing through a scything left-right that caught Paige below the ribs on both sides. A tapered overhand to the heart pulsed the blonde’s chest; gagging as a blinding flurry jellied her knees and sent her staggering across the ring. Ribs, navel, hip, hook-hook, lips, CHIN, TEMPLE; the blonde fluttered as her curvy frame bowed into the ropes. Nova slipped a desperate lasso and cut an uppercut into the bottom of her chin; swatting away a grapple and going navel-underboob-JAW with a right handed hole-punch up VanZant’s torso. The blonde was fumbling after a textbook opener that felt light-years away; finally pulling the slender Nova into a muay thai clinch and locking the redhead up for the last thirty seconds.

The third would be no kinder to the Oregon native; whiffing on a huffing one-two-three strikeout before Nova stamped a blinding right fist into her nose. VanZant flickered and fell to her heels once again; a left from Nova tucked beneath her tear-dropping bust, hook-hook bobbing her skull on her shoulders, SHREDDING right-right tearing through her crunching midsection. The blonde looked like she’d gone three rounds in the octagon; breathing heavily, the spandex material of her micro top clinging to her bust with sweat. Nova continued her humiliating walk-down; Paige’s curvy hips swaying as Amber hooked looping shots off her plump waistline. A left sliced through the cartilage of her ribs, a right rocked her shoulder; clavicles, tits, cheek, chin, RIBS. VanZant wheezed and shoved off Nova with a groping palm to the chest; leaking blood behind her trail as she ran along the outskirts for the last fifteen to find the bell. Nova STUNS the blonde with a domineering pair of rounds, taking both 10-8.

Round 4:

The blonde embraced her inner bully in the fourth; intentionally eating a snappy one-two to the chops in order to entice Nova close enough to completely maul her. The chiseled redhead squealed as she was devoured by the curvy blonde; hulking scoop-hooks carving out Amber’s midsection as Paige bludgeoned her into the corner. Nova gagged as a wheelbarrow left-left-LEFT pierced her gut; drooling her mouthpiece down her chest as Paige shouldered her back up and PISTONED a merciless straight right into her perky rack. 

Nova deflated into the corner; an elbow hooking the top rope as VanZant snaked her left hand beneath the wrestler’s armpit and awkwardly hooked her chin from below. Nova stamped her heel as the fishhook was momentarily blinded from the official’s view; obscuring just long enough for Paige to rip a devious side-hook below the belt into Amber’s crotch. Nova throatily exhaled and melted halfway to the ground; pinching her thighs together before squirming out from between Paige and the post and escaping to center ring. Nova barked to the zebra in the last ten seconds, but her pleas went unheard. VanZant takes a bruising fourth and climbs back within a point.

Round 5:

Despite having less than ten fights beneath her belt, Nova responded like a vet; brushing off the missed infraction and emerging from her corner with a palpable calm. VanZant tried to rumble and wrestle, but Amber methodically dissected the blonde’s attack; first ducking a left to rattle a one-two off Paige’s belly, then slipping a clinch to rip an uppercut into her jaw. The blonde hung low as she continued to blindly stalk; sweeping an overhand well short, then missing with another wanting jab-jab. 

Nova’s timing and stamina was impeccable; sliding in for a hook to the hip, dipping out, rotating, then CRUNCHING a fadeaway right into VanZant’s ribs. Paige hoarsely bleated as she collapsed to that side; chicken-winging an elbow over her pulsing midsection and sidling away from Amber. Nova pushed at the behest of her corner; weaving through a defensive tap-tap-cross from Paige and vaulting through a right that CRASHED against the blonde’s temple. Paige pulled away wide-eyed, her arms falling away as she chomped down harder on her gum-shield; heels dragging as she clumsily floundered sideways. Nova swept a left across her chin, then a right, THEN A STIFF LEFT. The blonde swallowed Nova’s stumpy overhand with no chaser; her hands falling to her sides as her upper half went completely limp and teetered straight back. Her lower stems stiffening for half a second, VanZant’s bulbs rolled into the back of her head; her curvy upper half quaking with a quick shimmy before her legs went out from under her and she spilled drunkenly to her backside.

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… Paige blankly stared skyward as her arms messily flung above her head; her busty upper half rapidly rising with frenetic pants as she tried to reboot her systems. Nova let out a primal screech as she leapt to her corner; her rampant parading quaking the blonde’s motionless frame as she rocked on her backside.

6… 7… 8… The blonde removed her own mouthpiece to better suck wind; her heels kicking out from beneath her as she tried to find traction to sprawl and rise.

9… 10!! SHE’S OUT!

"And your winner, by KO in Round 5, AMBERRRR NOOOOOOOVAAA!!!!"

Post Fight:

Nova gained a mountain of expertise as the rules immediately shifted from boxing to professional wrestling; the CWF After Dark stipulations kicking in as VanZant was still groggily counting the lights in the rafters. Paige let out an enervated groan as Nova wasted no time scooping her right back up; a palm cupping the back of the blonde’s neck as Amber helped Paige to both feet. VanZant tried her hand at a quick reversal, grabbing the redhead’s wrist and attempting to sling her into the ropes for an Irish Whip; only for Nova to balletically parry and twist the blonde right back up in her grip.

VanZant gracelessly rolled up Amber’s arm as the redhead salsa-spun her prey deep into a sticky web; throwing her bicep over the blonde’s throat and wrapping Paige in a suffocating Reverse Headlock. VanZant’s curvy frame swelled with increasingly frenetic pants, once again staring at the ceiling as Nova curled her bowing frame lower. The blonde’s heels slid into a revealing split as Nova kept her tucked helplessly beneath her armpit; raising her off-hand and letting out a crowd-commanding shriek. In a flash the South Carolina native kicked out and dropped to her behind, YANKING down on VanZant’s neck and HAMMERING the back of her spine against the canvas with a lung-blowing Inverted DDT. Paige’s plump lower stems kicked into a ‘V’ as the back of her skull rammed the mat, her hands falling away from Nova’s forearm and sloshing to her sides. The blonde was motionless aside from the panting of her perky chest; Nova brushing over her sputtering frame to hook her opposite thigh and raising it to her chin for an uncontested, cross-body leg-hook pin.

Tale of the Tape:

Stacy Keibler (40-30-1, 33 KO)

5'11, 44 years old

Celebrity Wrestling Federation

Former (2x) FCBA Welterweight Title Holder (3 Defenses)

vs.

Kelly Brook (53-78-5, 42 KO)

5’8, 44 years old

This Is Glamour

Former (2x) FCBA Lightweight Title Holder

(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)

Intro:

"AND NOW! Making her 72nd appearance in the ring, fighting under the Celebrity Wrestling Federation flag. Please welcome the Baltimore, Maryland native, standing 5 foot 11, weighing in at 130 pounds, STACYYYY KEEEEEIBLERRRRR!!”

Keibler’s lithe, Amazonian frame was lewdly wrapped in a microscopic string bikini that left little to the imagination. The blonde’s sternum swelled with deep, calming breaths; her taut abdomen sculpted out of bronze, her perky tits delicately compacted by a thin-banded bandeau top that belted tightly around her mushrooming B-cups. As she hit the apron, Keibler craned her long stems and bent at the waist, playfully shimmying her hips at the base of her toe-touch as she ducked through the ropes and into the ring. Her pale-white string thong was devoured by folds of flesh, finally rising and rearranging the twined, biting string bottoms by hiking them high up her hips. Ending her old-school WWE entrance to raucous applause, the blonde arched and pressed to her tippy toes against the ropes, lifting to tie back her tightly-braided pony tail before pumping her gloved fists together.

Having fully embraced and even accentuated her stunning curves as she hit her 40’s, Brook still possessed the measurables to be an absolute menace at Jaguar. The buxom model still hit like a truck, and added plenty of weight to bully around some of the slimmer ladies stuck in her division. The lanky, lithe Keibler was undoubtedly ripe to be one of them; as Brook’s mammoth, overflowing H-cups mushroomed and enveloped the American’s subtle, teardropping pair as they pressed chest-to-chest. The Brit was practically spilling out of a sheer, black lace bra; her plump thighs split by a cheeky, high-waisted thong that inched up to just below her belly button.

Round 1:

Stacy was on a head-turning streak after temporarily retiring in late 2022; winning five in a row before falling to Jaguar Champion Adrianne Palicki. Brook was another recent challenger to the Jaguar throne; just losing out to Stacy’s Stablemate, Stana Katic, last year. Keibler was eager to start another winning streak as she soared out to a lead in the opener. Picking and probing, Stacy directed the curvy brunette around in circles with long, rangy jabs. For as lethal as her legs had been during her WWE career, her overhand right had pulled just about even. Few could match the lanky blonde’s elastic reach at 5’11, and like many Brook had no answer.

Tap-tap-crunch to the lips, snappy left to the jaw; Keibler’s feet shuffled in and out as Brook ate pounds of leather in the first few minutes. A hook to the ribs cut through the Brit’s midsection and broke up Stacy’s bobblehead rhythm; doubling the busty brunette at the waist before an ELECTRIC uppercut drummed against her hanging rack. Kelly gagged and spun out; holding her chest with both hands as she rolled across the ropes and floundered into the far corner. Stacy pursued, but the timer ran out before she could find another window to launch. Still, the blonde takes a poised opening round, 10-8.

Round 2/3:

Brook’s storied career had fallen on some lean times as of late, but this was still a world-class Champion with a rap-sheet a mile long. Keibler had one glaring weakness and it was hardly a secret; so when Brook busted through no-man’s-land and cozied up to the blonde, momentum switched on a dime. Keibler desperately tried to create separation to throw as the buxom Brit remained glued to her hip; ripping and tearing through the blonde’s taut midsection with a blinding flurry of lefts and rights. Stacy tried to scurry left, but Brook pulled her dance partner right back in with a tug on the hip; tried to slide right, but the Brit once again ate up space.

Keibler twisted and squelched as left, right, hook, cross, hook, right carved through her crunching, spasming abdomen. A thumping hook to the heart shook her perky bust, springing one of her golden orbs out the top of her sagging bandeau top with a throaty squeal. Brook cleaved another screwdriver through her ribs, then a bladed one-two-three zipper up her belly, then a PUNISHING uppercut that crushed her chin. Keibler gagged and teetered into the corner, sprawling her partially-bare upper half over the post while shielding her chest with an armbra. Her skull rattled as Brook lanced a straight right into her cheek, then an overhand to the temple, then a bladed one-two across her bloodied lips. Keibler finally dove forward and clogged up Brook’s airspace; alleviating some of the pressure as they twirled off the ropes back to center.

The intermission wouldn’t be nearly long enough as Keibler accomplished nothing more than a wardrobe remedy; with Brook continuing to bully and bludgeon the lighter blonde at will. With Keibler’s length stymied and handcuffed, Kelly had the leash and was domineering in her refusal to give it up. Brook takes an impressive pair back-to-back, 10-8, 10-8.

Round 4/5:

After a steadying fourth in which Stacy put her foot down and kept enough distance to fight off the Brit’s constant advances, Kelly put a renewed focus on holding the reins in the fifth. A couple devious bear-claws swatted at Stacy’s chest; toying with her belted bra and trying to force another glimpse of the blonde’s goods. Anything to get inside Keibler’s head and throw her off her game, and the vet had plenty of tricks. Keibler and her top held fast; cranking back with a zig-zagging trio of jabs and crosses that snapped against Brook’s chin. The Brit tried to shoulder through, but Keibler cut her off with a spiky left to the cheek; wobbling back half a step before two more lanky scythes lassoed into her gut.

Brook let out a guttural whimper and skittered to her heels; snapping over at the waist and sucking wind as Keibler postured and pushed. A ferocious overhand JUST whizzed past the brunette’s temple, spinning into the ropes as she wobbled back to full height in retreat. Keibler lifted to her toes for more leverage as she DROVE down on a shoulder-high right; skewering Brook’s heavy rack with a merciless overhand that bowed her into the ropes. Kelly’s thighs jellied and pinched shut, her curvy frame twisting and buckling as Keibler poured venomous hooks into her hip, ribs, sideboob, navel; finally snapping a WICKED cross against her temple. Brook squelched as she was slung 180 degrees; spilling to her knees against the base of the ropes with a wounded whimper.

1… 2… 3… 4… Brook gagged a mouthful of drool to the canvas as she curled up on all fours; sprawling somewhat as she desperately heaved for oxygen and slid to a seat on her haunches. Taking a moment before rising with the aid of the ropes, Kelly swept the sweat-matted locks from her eyes and rearranged her overflowing bust; making sure she was still tucked before nodding to the official that she was good to continue.

Keibler had a handful of javelins still locked and loaded; craning back and flinging a flaming overhand right that clobbered the brunette’s upper sternum. Kelly shimmied as she staggered back two steps; her balance shattered by the sheer weight of Keibler’s overhand. Then came another; CRASHING against her clavicles and sending her floundering into the near corner. The brunette’s busty upper half sagged forward at the waist, panting uncontrollably as Keibler waltzed up uncontested and swept hook after hook into her navel. Kelly crunched further forward with each bisecting blow; gagging up her mouthpiece before the official finally dove in and called off the blonde.

"And your winner, by TKO in Round 5, STACYYYYY KEIBBBBLERRRR!!!!”

Post Fight:

Keibler paraded as though she’d never left the WWE ring; sashaying her curvy hips with all the lewd showmanship of her younger years as Brook drunkenly wobbled into the same corner she’d been finished against. The blonde crouched as the brunette exhaustedly huffed and plopped to her backside; Keibler leaning forward and scrunching Kelly’s puffy cheeks, pulling her eye-to-eye in order to gauge how much fight was left in her hollow bulbs. The answer: very little.

Keibler pulled off and methodically retreated to the opposite side of the ring; pausing at the ropes to playfully loop her digits around the waistband of her string thong and hike the biting material up toward her ribs. The arena deafened as the twine of her bottoms slid through folds, disappearing between her plump cheeks and puffy lips; the blonde grinning ear-to-ear as she took a running start and RAMMED her hip into Brook’s face. The brunette let out a guttural grunt as her upper half was FLATTENED; the back of her skull hammering steel before she slid flat and splayed out across the canvas.

Keibler sensually rocked her hips with a rhythmic sashay, straddling Brook’s woozy frame before slowly lowering her backside over the Brit’s face. Kelly could hardly protest before her entire head was eclipsed; muffled whimpers escaping as the blonde took a sloppy seat atop her face and buried the brunette beneath her prize-winning ass. Keibler shook and shimmied her lower half until her reverse Schoolgirl Pin slid into place; Brook’s crumpled frame protesting with a light patter on her thighs and little more. Stacy grinned as she leaned forward and palmed the Brit’s enormous, swelling orbs; jiggling her rack as Kelly struggled to siphon even the smallest breath. After no more than a few seconds the brunette’s struggling gave way to violent convulsions; her curvy frame quaking as her arms fell away and she drifted into a lifeless, spread-eagled mess; succumbing to a needless 3-count as the blonde claimed her second victory of the night.

Tale of the Tape (JMDD):

Bethany Lily April (16-2-0, 16 KO)

5'5, 28 years old, 32H

Celebrity Wrestling Federation

vs.

Brianna Marie Dale (10-10-0, 10 KO)

5'5, 28 years old, 36DD

Odds & Ends Fight Studio

(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)

Intro:

"Welcome to this fabulous JMDD contest… “

"AND NOW! Making her 19th appearance in the ring. Please welcome the Essex, England native, standing 5 foot 5, weighing in at 130 pounds, BETHANNNNYY LILLLYYY APPPPPRIL!!"

Bethany was meticulously poured into a microscopic string bikini that clung to her heavy, sloshing chest with admirable effort; struggling to keep her contained as she  bounced down the ramp. The thin-banded bandeau top did little to contain her massive, overflowing H-cups; her heaving orbs swelling as though they were fastened with a belt. Her wide, voluptuous hips devoured her string thong bottoms, the biting floss disappearing between her plump cheeks and bronzed folds of flesh as she slid lewdly into the ring. The England native’s pale blue eyes gleamed through heavy, smoky eye shadow; her dirty-blonde locks tied back in a tightly braided pony tail that extended just past her shoulder-blades.

Dale was the perfect foil, the perfect antithesis to April’s porcelain frame. The tatted brunette matched the blonde’s killer curves with ease; all in the same diminutive Welterweight package. Her bronzed skin was carefully covered in just a few square inches of fabric; a matte black, micro bikini top that clung to her bust and matching string thong.

With the official calling the two together for some last minute instruction before the bell, the audience was blessed with stare-down nirvana. Dale seemingly had the blonde’s pre-fight comments burned into her retinas; staring daggers through April as their enormous, scantly-clad busts met. Bethany’s smirk was answered with an expressionless scowl from Dale; their H and DD-cups mushrooming as they leaned in almost nose-to-nose. April was first to ‘blink’; scoffing with an accompanying exhale as she started to back away. Brianna took exception to the bitchy eye-roll; barking as she planted both palms on the blonde’s rack and slung her across the ring with a chesty two-handed shove.

“Always a bridesmaid, never a bride…” April had infamously quoted in reference to Dale’s career accomplishments thus far. Brianna had already seen incredible success before the age of 30, earning her way to Ice Hotel, JMDD and Beach Championship opportunities, but narrowly falling to some legendary fighters. While most would view her involvement in such bouts as a tremendous accomplishment in and of itself, Bethany couldn’t help but jab when a reporter mentioned how much higher Dale was ranked than April.

Round 1/2:

Dale evidently was saving her pent-up aggression for the opening bell; running down April in just the first twenty seconds and rattling a left-right-left off her bony forearms. The Brit gruffly barked as a sinking hook slithered through and POUNDED her massive chest, rocking her bust and driving her to her heels. Wincing and opening up, Bethany coiled a left and twisted through; coming up short as Dale followed her miss and chugged one, two, THREE bouncing uppercuts off the blonde’s rack. April scowled and slunk away with a whimper, holding her mushrooming bust with a makeshift armbra as Dale sneered from afar with hands still raised. Brianna had her blinders on and her gaze transfixed on the blonde’s bouncy H-cups; ducking two slicing overhands from the Brit and pouring another flurry into her porcelain chest. Hook to the left breast, uppercut to the right; April gagged as Dale mixed in a teeth-rattling jab before piercing her heart with a bladed straight-right. April wobbled into the ropes as the ‘10-second’ call rapped against the apron; hook-jab-jab-cross battering her hands as her upper half desperately twisted and bucked. Dale continued well after the bell; drumming a handful of unhinged overhand rights into the blonde’s partially-shielded temple before the official could pry her off.

After Dale made her presence felt with a 10-8 opener, it was April’s turn to take the reins. Still working from her heels due to Dale’s eagerness to hunt, it wasn’t until Bethany landed a bitter jab-hook to the brunette’s chin that Brianna tapped the brakes on her pursuit. Suddenly Dale was floundering as April waltzed into a balletic left-right-left that zippered up the brunette’s side; chunking off her hip, slicing through her ribs, and finally sinking into her vulnerable sideboob to crunch her over at the waist. Dale grit her teeth and cocked a left at her shoulder; attempting to launch through the pain just as Bethany slid an uppercut into the bottom of her jaw. Dale’s skull bobbled on her shoulders as now she was drifting to her heels; wading away to the ropes and stalling out the last thirty seconds on unsteady feet. April answers with just as commanding an effort, leveling the fight with a 10-8 second.

Round 3/4:

Dale didn’t go toe-to-toe with Upton, Lively, Kostek and others without an ability to adapt, but after taking a somewhat subdued third by a score of 10-9, Brianna found herself in some trouble.

April wasn’t quite a household name, but the Brit could combo-craft. Feign low, strike high; Dale lowered her hands to swat at another hip-check from April, only to be kissed on the lips by a bitter sidewinding right. The Cali-native blubbered as she bared her bloody mouthpiece; biting down on her gum-shield as Bethany rapped another venomous jab-cross off her lips. Dale swiped a bear-claw across the blonde’s chest, doing little more than jiggling her bust before April boisterously replied with a REAL rack-attack. Dale was in between steps as the blonde burst forward, lacing a one-two across her tits and slinging an orb free. Gut-check to the navel, uppercut-hook to the curve of her ribs, THUMPING left-right-right to her bouncing orbs. Dale’s heart skipped a beat as she drunkenly fell into the corner in the last thirty; pinching her elbows together to block an overhand aimed at her cheek before a merciless crooked-left pancaked her freed tits from the side. The brunette wailed as she bowed against the ropes, her knees buckling inward as April flurried in the last few seconds of the round; spiking rights up and down her abdomen until she was hauled off by the referee. April DOMINATES, vaulting in front for the first time tonight with a 10-8 masterpiece.

Round 5:

There were virtually zero Welters who April could look down upon, but the hunched and sluggish Dale was one of them at the moment. Brianna had taken it on the chin in two of the last three rounds, looking increasingly ragged as the pair skipped yet another pre-round glove tap. April probed and tested with sharp jabs; batting glove-to-glove to see what sort of reaction Dale could muster. Looking to toy with her prey, Bethany extended a palm to grope and guide the brunette; pawing at Brianna’s rack and shoving her along the outskirts as though she had her on a leash. Dale swatted at Bethany’s glove, frustratedly huffing as April’s smug grin grew wider. Feeling the post at her back, Dale finally snapped; roughly chopping down on April’s wrist and coming over the top with a WICKED right.

“NNGGGOOHHHLL” April mewled, her head snapping straight back as Brianna detonated a blinding overhand against her flushed cheek. The blonde’s bulbs stretched wide as she sprawled into a half-split, arms suddenly hanging around her hips as the brunette found the front foot. A left looped into April’s ribs, a bony CRUNCH echoing before a shrill squeal from the blonde overtook it; Dale scything one-two-three punishing hooks into her tightly belted rack. April’s midsection concaved and folded forward as Dale hammered her bust; gagging as the brunette slid to the side and PISTONED a rising uppercut into the center of her swelling sternum. Bethany’s thighs quaked as her chest was FLATTENED, spilling out the top of her sagging bandeau top as she turned her back to Dale and slunk to the safety of the ropes. Just as Brianna kicked into gear to chase, the bell sounded; cut off by the official before she could run the blonde down. Dale fires back in this lubricious, seesaw affair; stealing the lead once again with a 10-8 fifth.

Round 6:

Both fighters were struggling to keep their failing tops intact after a handful of wardrobe malfunctions; a product of both their skimpy selections and the cattiness of the fight thus far. Dale found the wind to run her mouth for the first time in a while, barking at April through the intermission as the Brit somberly listened to instruction from her corner. Coming out for the second half of the fight, the pair seemed to come together in agreement for the very first time as they twisted up in a mutual, busty clinch center-ring.

Dale was the first to wiggle an arm free, pulling back and scooping a hunk of flesh from the blonde’s taut midsection with a gutting hook to the navel. April’s tippy toes lifted off the canvas as her thonged ass jut into the air, gagging as she hung from Brianna’s tightening grip. Dale squirmed and repositioned, THUMPING another right hand off the blonde’s teardropping bust from her side-clinch. April was hanging low now, still fidgeting with the brunette’s oppressive handcuffs before finally slithering free and RIPPING a left off Brianna’s ribs. Dale snapped over at the hip as her abdomen was skewered; wailing before one, two, THREE more hooks came through. Brianna breathlessly wheezed as Bethany snaked her left arm beneath her armpit and came over her shoulder, hooking her chin and blinding Dale as their twisted frames backed into the corner. Dale’s upper half swelled with rapid pants, her belly spasming as Bethany meticulously glued her to the corner and freed herself from the brunette’s tangled limbs. Dale sagged against the post as April slipped her right half free; rearing back and SPIKING a venomous side-hook into Brianna’s heavy rack. The brunette’s frame buckled as she let out a guttural grunt, her thighs buckling inward as her massive double-Ds were pancaked to her sternum. April coiled her torso and POUNDED another barbaric right into the brunette’s tear-dropping rack; Dale hoarsely mewling as she sulked lower, then lower still as a third ruthless hammer pierced her bust. Dale’s bound frame shook with aftershocks and spasms as April sunk shiv after shiv into her mushrooming tits; mercilessly hammering away until the brunette dissolved from her grip and puddled at her feet.

1… 2… 3… 4… Brianna spiked to her knees and floundered to all fours with a breathless gag; her belly violently spasming with abbreviated pants as both arms rushed to comfort her pulsing bust. The brunette throatily wailed as she laid out on her belly, burying her face against the canvas as she sucked wind.

5… 6… 7… April threw her hands into the air and let out a primal screech, looking bedraggled herself as her sheer white top barely clung to her heaving rack. Dale could muster little more than to shake her head in breathless protest as April planted a heel on her hip and rolled her over to her ass; still swaddling her chest as she sprawled to her backside.

8… 9… 10!! SHE IS DONE!

"And your winner, by KO in Round 6, BETHANYYY LILLLLYYY APPPPPRILL!!!!"

Post Fight:

Dale knew there was no weaseling out of her punishment after the bad blood that had accrued thus far; softly whimpering as April stood over her and methodically slipped out of her gloves. The victorious Brit savored the moment, drinking in the brunette’s soft coos for mercy as she sensually arched her sweat-drenched frame and re-tied her disheveled blonde locks into a neat pony tail.

“Kneel.” Bethany sternly commanded, bunching the brunette’s loose, sweat-soaked locks in her palm and helping to guide Dale to her knees.

The doe-eyed Dale whimpered as she heeled at April’s hip, squirming before the blonde roughly cradled the back of her neck and dropped to her knees. Before Dale could blink, the blonde twisted herself around the brunette like an anaconda, sliding into her lap and thrusting Brianna’s flushed features between her overflowing orbs. Dale twisted and shrieked as April hugged the back of her skull, crushing and devouring her entire face with flesh. Brianna squirmed on her knees for a few agonizing seconds before tipping straight back; April messily spilling on top of her and burying her deeper still. Dale’s heavy, sloshing orbs mushroomed out from their intertwined abdomens, shaking with desperate spasms as Bethany made sure to snake her free hand behind the brunette’s back and undo the drawstring of her bikini top. Dale’s heels skid and pedaled against the mat for a few more frenzied seconds, finally kicking out from underneath her and sliding lewdly spread-eagle. April kept her smothering constrictor cinched for a few more seconds before the brunette’s pleading hands fell away; spasming with convulsions beneath the Brit’s weight before she finally peeled off and left the twitching Dale.

April peeled off her slumbering, topless victim; looking down on Dale’s compact, curvy frame sloshing with convulsions and feeling as though a little cherry was due on top of her sundae. Bethany wobbled on the ropes as she sprung up the corner post like a cat; taking her time crouching on the turnbuckle and preparing to swan-dive atop the lifeless brunette with a full-body splash.

“GGOOOOHHHLLL” The blonde suddenly squelched; gagging as Dale sputtered halfway to life, caught a glimpse of the diving blonde, and RAISED her heels into April’s chest at the last possible second. The blonde violently catapult off Dale’s brutal double-heel kick, writhing on her belly as she floundered across the ring; hoarsely coughing as she tried to massage out the BRUTAL lung-blower to her tits from Dale. April’s natural H-cups unceremoniously spilled out the bottom of her skin-tight bandeau top as she rolled and swaddled her pulsing chest; finally flopping to her back as Dale climbed to her feet.

The blonde’s bulbs stretched wide as the topless, bedraggled brunette stood over her; her own bare chest quaking with heavy pants for oxygen as Brianna took a sloppy seat on her belly. Bethany cooed a soft, “no…” before Dale arrested both her wrists; crossing the blonde’s arms over her own throat and strangling her with her own limbs. Bethany’s titanic chest shook with spasms as her sternum shimmied in protest, gurgling before her world turned completely black. Dale was a cruel dominatrix, the blonde’s naked rack and rosy cheeks suddenly enveloped by the brunette’s own bust; her golden double-Ds devouring Bethany’s entire upper half as she lowered them over her skull. April’s muffled squeals and gurgles heightened as her legs pedaled for traction; her heels eventually kicking out into a full split as her thighs limply hammered the mat when oxygen ran out. The blonde’s slender midsection heaved with a final convulsing spasm; unable to siphon a breath through the fleshy Breast Smother stacked on top of a Cross-Armed Choke. Dale eventually peeled off her glossy, doe-eyed rag-doll; leaning back to hook one of April’s lanky thighs and scooping her calf beneath an armpit for the 3-count victory.

Tale of the Tape (JMD):

Lucy Pinder (7-23-0, 7 KO)

5'5, 40 years old, 32H

Celebrity Wrestling Federation

vs.

Leanna Decker (0-5-0)

5'4, 32 years old, 34E

Knockout Artist Productions

(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)

Intro:

"Welcome to this fabulous JMD contest… “

“AND NOW! Making her 31st appearance in the FCBA. Please welcome the Hampshire, England native, standing 5 foot 5, weighing in at 125 pounds, LUCYYYYY PINNNNNDERRRR!!”

Lucy was scantily clad in a pale-white, sheer bikini that clung to her heavy H-cups as if it were painted on her skin. The thin-banded bandeau top did little to contain her natural, overflowing chest; her heaving orbs swelling as though they were fastened with a belt given the ample cleavage and underboob being shown. The Brit’s bronzed skin glimmered with a light sheen of perspiration; her satin, shoulder-length locks already soaked through and matted with sweat. Heavy, thick eye-liner coated her long lashes; the smoke from her mascara mixing with the flush of her rosy cheeks as she waved to throngs of fans. The biting floss of her string thong bottoms was lost to folds of flesh as it trailed between her plump ass cheeks, grinning ear-to-ear with a toothy smile as she slid lewdly into the ring.

Leanna Decker was a relative newbie to the boxing ring, but she wasn’t a stranger to the Celebrity Wrestling Federation. Despite having only four career fights, three had come against the CWF in Pelas, Underwood and Nova. Decker was hoping the fourth time was the charm as she took on the newest CWF member; Lucy Pinder. Decker’s body was a picture of perfection; her porcelain frame sloshing in the tiny, pale blue slingshot monokini she chose to oppose Lucy’s getup.

Round 1/2:

Finally backed by a brand new Stable, Knockout Artist Productions, Leanna strut with an unseen confidence in her previous matchups with The Federation. While her training likely hadn’t yet been given a chance to bear fruit, her mentals were undoubtedly in a better place. The comparatively young filly exploded out of the gates; swathing over the buxom Brit with overhand-overhand to break her stride. Pinder winced as she was knocked back by the two titanic hammers to her guard; shucking her defenses and opening up her rack for a sinister hook-underhand-straight to PISTON against her hanging bust.

Lucy shrieked as Decker unveiled some of her new ‘coaching’; diving forward and palming the brunette’s globes with both hands. Pinder quickly scampered into a backpedal as Leanna rode her across the ring; twisting and groping her mushrooming rack until Lucy’s spine was forced against the bowing ropes. Leanna quickly discarded her fistful of assets and sliced a trio of venomous hooks across the Brit’s bouncing chest; demolishing her swaying bust before launching through a bladed uppercut that CRUNCHED against her jaw. Pinder’s thighs buckled and pinched inward as she fell into the redhead’s arms; balletically twisting off the ropes before breaking away from their embrace and floundering back toward her own corner. Pinder was already sucking wind, her mammoth chest swelling as she tried to tuck herself back into the sheer white bandeau top crookedly draped across her H-cups. Pinder looks to be caught somewhat off-guard by the redhead’s new tricks, as Decker takes the opener 10-8.

More of the same from Leanna in the second as she bullies and gropes her way to another domineering round. Lucy isn’t averse to playing dirty, but she seems far more reluctant to get her hands in the mud and play catty than the Kentucky native. The newly-signed Knockout Artist product is making a boisterous statement early, as she takes the second 10-9.

Round 3:

Pinder didn’t become a fan favorite by playing nice; and with Decker firmly holding the reins through the first two rounds, Lucy finally brought out her own restraints. The greenhorn had no trouble getting dirty, but when it came to mixing catty with technical, she couldn’t match Pinder’s expertise. After her opening volley was stymied by the Brit, Decker went to the well once again; lurching out and palming Pinder’s heaving rack and driving her toward the far corner. Lucy grimaced and gave ground, only to hook Leanna beneath the armpits at the last second and trade places; slinging the redhead into the post instead.

Decker barked and lost control, sagging into the corner as Pinder SLICED a left across her chin. Decker clumsily buckled and floundered to the side, hanging onto the top rope before Pinder unleashed a hurricane across her chest. Hook-hook-side uppercut; the redhead’s rack bounced and sprung as she helplessly squealed in the corner. Pinder broke up her rhythmic drumming by SWIPING a devilish left hand across Leanna’s chest; snagging the strap of her slingshot monokini and ripping it off her shoulder. The Kentucky native opened her mouth to protest as half her torso was bared, but just as she did so Pinder stuffed a stiff drink down her throat; buckling the redhead with a silencing overhand right. Decker’s thighs chicken-winged into the splits as she was spiked against the corner; her eyes crossing as she slid down the post into a lewd crouch. Narrowly avoiding taking a seat just as the bell sounded, Leanna gracelessly sprawled and hung from the ropes for dear life; just missing out on a knockdown as the third concluded. Pinder DOMINATES, 10-8.

Round 4:

The intermission could’ve been ten minutes long and it still wouldn’t have saved the redhead; Decker’s zombie-like shuffle unmistakable as the two trudged out for the fourth round. Leanna was a marionette with no strings; spinning and pinwheeling through a handful of desperate rights before Pinder finally put her out to pasture. The Brit slid left and laced a merciless left screwdriver through the redhead’s ribs; eliciting a wounded squeal as she tipped sideways and concaved around her abdomen. Decker whimpered as she valiantly circled back, a half-step slow as Pinder pulled out the defibrillator and spiked a pair of devastating shock-paddles off the model’s heavy rack. Leanna’s mouth fell open as she drunkenly wobbled and spun off; lawn-chaired at the waist as Lucy chased and BLUDGEONED a shoulder-high left off the redhead’s temple, knocking her out cold.

1… 2… 3… 4… Leanna crumpled to her belly with both arms caught up beneath her torso; her chin buried against the canvas as her mouthpiece eeked out from between her lips and dribbled to the mat. The once-fiery redhead was in a deep slumber, her comatose frame twitching with gentle convulsions as the official leaned in for a closer inspection.

5… 6… 7… 8… 9… 10!! SHE’S OUT! DECKER IS DONE!

"And your winner, by KO in Round 4, LUCCYYYYY PINNNNNDERRR!!!!"

Post Fight:

Lucy took her time making a savory victory lap around the ring; stopping to plant a heel atop the redhead’s porcelain, thong-clad ass as she shook beneath her heel. Decker throatily groaned as Lucy traced her toes along the curve of her hip, finally digging into folds of flesh and KICKING her over to her backside. Leanna lifelessly unraveled with arms and legs strewn to four corners, spread-eagled and once again spilling out of her displaced top as she continued to twitch with unconscious spasms.

Pinder had no objections to doling out overkill, and despite Leanna being in no state to protest, the brunette claimed her JMD prize. Decker’s supple E-cups quaked as Lucy knelt over her head and scooped her torso up by the armpits; dragging Leanna into her lap and resting the redhead’s shoulder-blades on her thighs. With a toothy, beaming smirk, Pinder shimmied her shoulders for the crowd and slowly eclipsed the Kentucky native’s twisted features; lowering her enormous, hanging tits over Leanna’s skull. It took a few seconds before the smother would register; Decker’s body jolting back to life as she desperately sputtered for oxygen from inside her fleshy tomb. Pinder meticulously hugged the redhead’s skull tighter; wrapping her arms around Leanna’s neck and burying her until she was lost completely between mountains of flesh. The redhead’s twitching and twisting lasted only a few more seconds before her heels slid to the mat and her lower half eased into a split; her own bare chest quaking for a few more breathless moments before she sagged flat to the canvas.

Pinder was likely dizzy from her parading; celebrating BOTH knockouts with a few Nascar laps around the outskirts before settling back on her prone target. With the busty Kentucky native coming to, Lucy quickly skid down to her knees and tried to sneak in yet another pin; this one to net her the official ‘second’ victory and earn her prize money. Instead, it was too late, Leanna bucking instinctively out of Lucy’s grasp and rolling to her side to kick the pin. Pinder was annoyed, but resolute; dragging the topless redhead to her feet and wringing her out against the ropes with a two-handed choke to the throat. Decker twisted and gurgled, still groggy from a pair of beatings but somehow hanging onto consciousness.

“NOOHHHHGGGHH” The brunette suddenly howled, her voice throaty and gruff as Leanna threw a blind knee toward Pinder’s midsection and caught her right between the thighs. Lucy’s grip deteriorated as she was thrust over at the waist; gagging up a mouthful of drool as she practically kissed her toes. Leanna’s naked chest swelled with defiant breaths, spilling out the sides of her displaced slingshot monokini as she looked down at Pinder with detest. With Pinder genuflecting to a knee holding her pulsing cunt, Leanna twisted her digits around the back of her bandeau bra; raising Lucy back to waist height and pulling the belted bra from her shoulder-blades to around her neck. The Brit’s swelling H-cups succumbed to gravity, sloshing out the bottom of her bandeau as Decker tucked her skull between her porcelain thighs.

Now it was Pinder who was squirming; the brunette’s perked ass devouring her string thong, her plump, pink lips peeking through her thighs as they eased further into a graceless standing-split. Summoning all she had left, Leanna craned forward and twisted Pinder upside down and vertical; rotating the blubbering brunette into position for a Tombstone Piledriver. Pinder’s stems wiggled and kicked, opening her mouth to shriek before the tip of her skull was DETONATED against the canvas. Lucy’s frame sickeningly buckled, her arms falling lifelessly away from Leanna’s waist, her stems PRYING into a lewd split. The Brit’s paralyzed frame quaked with convulsions as Decker let her spill out of her arms, floundering to her back. Pinder’s mouth was frozen slack-jawed, her mascara-smeared bulbs rolled into the back of her head, her naked chest shimmying with violent spasms as she sagged flat to the mat, tits up. Leanna breathlessly paused on her haunches before craning to all fours, straddling the spread-eagled model as Pinder continued to flounder. Decker plucked at the waistband of Lucy’s micro-thong bottoms, toying with the crotch until she was able to wedgie the biting spandex between the Brit’s lips and YANK it invasively up her slit. Hooking the inside of Lucy’s leg, Decker struck her pose; lifting Pinder’s thick, jiggling thigh and tucking it to her bare chest. Rolls of flesh formed on the brunette’s abdomen as she was folded in two; her upturned ass and partially bare kitty exposed to the rafters as Decker earned her emphatic 3-count win.

Tale of the Tape (JMD):

Melissa Debling (3-2-0, 3 KO)

5'5, 35 years old, 32G

Celebrity Wrestling Federation

vs.

Yoko Matsugane (4-11-0, 4 KO)

5'6, 41 years old, 37F

Front Street Japan

(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)

Intro:

"Welcome to this fabulous JMD contest… “

"AND NOW! Making her 6th appearance in the FCBA. Please welcome the Kent, England native, standing 5 foot 5, weighing in at 125 pounds, MELISSAAAAA DEBBBBBLING!!”

Melissa’s titanic G-cups struggled to stay fastened by the sweat-soaked, sheer bandeau top she was carefully tucked into; her teardropping chest swelling with anxious pants as she made her way down the ramp. Aging like a fine wine into her mid-30s, the curvy model was looking noticeably trim and tight since signing with her new Stable. Her plump backside jiggled as she rolled through the ropes, her pale white string thong lost between the folds of her cheeks. Her loose, golden locks draped gently over a shoulder; dark mascara coating her lashes as she listened to some last minute instruction from McElhone.

Yoko Matsugane barely made it down the ramp without sloshing out of her outfit; a pearl white, spandex slingshot monokini that was tight enough to fasten her massive F-cups to her chest for the time being. Matsugane effortlessly rivaled the blonde’s enormous G-cups as they went chin-to-chin; and while the punching prowess might not be Championship-caliber, this was one of the most mouth-watering and busty pairings imaginable.

Round 1:

Melissa Debling was aiming to make it 2-for-2 on her Front Street Japan circuit; already having defeated Stablemate Rio Natsume in a JMD battle earlier this year. She looked well on her way in the opener; blasting Matsugane in the chin just seconds after the glove tap. A slithery hook burrowed beneath the underside of Yoko’s heavy rack, a left-left puncturing her ribs, an overhand EXPLODING against her lips. Matsugane was launched backwards and bowed against the ropes, swarmed by the Brit; her top-heavy frame gnarled by a blinding flurry to her midsection.

Hook-uppercut-hook sprung her tits loose, sloshing out the sides of her slingshot monokini as Debling pounded away. A head-swiveling overhand broke up the jug mugging; Yoko hoarsely barking as she rolled along the ropes and careened into the corner post as the Brit gave chase. Her offense was nowhere to be found; curling up behind her hands for the last thirty seconds and limping to the break having almost been finished round one. Debling dominates, 10-8.

Round 2/3:

After a shellacking that had most of the arena questioning whether she belonged in the same ring as Debling, Matsugane clawed her way into the fight. It wasn’t nearly as overwhelming, but Yoko managed to steal the second with some late guile; leaving Debling frustrated she let it remain close enough to be taken from her.

The third began with the makings of another onslaught from the Brit; vaulting off her stool and walking the Japanese beauty down with HEAVY, drumming overhands. Matsugane gave ground, but didn’t buckle; taking one, two, three, FOUR wicked slap-shots off the forearms before craning to the side and slicing a rebuttal through the blonde’s navel. Debling gagged as her gut was flayed; frozen in place as alternating hooks RATTLED off her curvy hip and opposite rib cage. The blonde teetered to her heels, wounded but coiling a shoulder-high response just as Yoko slid in and STAMPED a jab on her lips.

Debling’s smoky lashes fluttered as she gutturally whimpered, drifting sideways and sprawling over the ropes. Her thick stems kicked out from underneath her and jellied, caught up on the ropes by her armpits. Yoko recklessly crashed into the splayed Brit and straightened her sagging frame; holding her up by the chin and scooping BRUTAL uppercuts into her waistline and belly button. Debling gagged as Matsugane buried one, two… five, six, seven gutting rights into her lower abdomen; drool dripping from her bottom lip as she folded forward at the waist. Hanging onto the ropes by her elbows, Debling’s tear-dropping chest was suddenly FLATTENED; hook-cross-hook-jab puncturing her rack from both sides as Matsugane put the ‘destruction’ in JMD. The blonde’s massive G-cups sloshed and bounced with each merciless hammer, finally spilling out the bottom of her belted bandeau top as it rode up around her clavicles. Running out of steam, Yoko scooped Melissa up by the armpit and swung her back to center-ring; the blonde gawkily sprawling to remain upright as she furiously pant for air. Finally the bell came, with Yoko sprinting into a shocking lead thanks to a 10-8 third.

Round 4:

The Brit was in a precarious state, but her cardio was noticeably improved since signing with the CWF. As evidenced by her stunning upset over Cougar Champion, Tina Louise, Debling had plenty of skill; all she needed was coaching. McElhone was in her ear the entire break, lifting the slouching blonde’s spirits and buoying her off the stool to start the fourth. Yoko wasn’t a total pushover, but her explosion in the previous two rounds was somewhat of a shocker. Debling looked to have taken the best she had and come out the other side, as she spent the first minute of the fourth dictating pace.

Matsugane’s success seemed to embolden her, perhaps to her own detriment as she took repeated barbs from the pressuring Brit but kept trying to foolishly answer. Overhand-jab-jab to Yoko’s cheek, left-right to the bust, swiping overhand to the temple; Matsugane was battered into the far corner but still felt she could damage the blonde. Yoko’s spine rattled off the post with nowhere to go; opting to open up and sling an ambitious combination toward Debling’s forehead that fell flat and well short. Melissa craned out of range, then deftly slid back in; PUMPING a heart-stopping straight right through Yoko’s left breast. The Japanese model squealed as her torso concaved; swaddling her jiggling chest with both arms as Debling snarled and SPIKED a bitter left through her cheek, downing her.

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… Matsugane crashed to her knees as her head snapped sideways, out on her feet before she puddled at Melissa’s. Yoko’s slender frame swelled with deep, slumbering pants; her arms and legs strewn out as she rocked flat on her chest.

7… 8… 9… 10!!

"And your winner, by KO in Round 4, MELISSSSSAAAAA DEBBBBBLINGGG!!!!"

Post Fight:

“HOW?!” Debling shrieked, absolutely stunned as the busty brunette miraculously kicked out of her makeshift leg-hook pin and cover.

The Brit had attempted to double dip on her knockout; Matsugane sloshing out from underneath her just as the official’s hand came down for the 3-count. Debling HAMMERED Yoko’s heavy chest in frustration; once, twice, a THIRD time, each shaking the prostrate model’s entire frame as she took the backhanded chops square in the sternum. Melissa dragged Matsugane up by the shoulder-straps of her slingshot monokini; the thin bands laced up her torso sliding off her orbs and giving the entire world a breathtaking view of her mammoth F-cups. Matsugane was a voiceless rag-doll as Melissa threw her across the ring; a clothesline off the spring of the ropes, a full-bodied splash to her downed frame, and ANOTHER spark of resilience as Yoko bucked free from a second cover attempt. Matsugane looked to be still orbiting the moon in a daze as Melissa turned her attention to the official; barking about his slow count as she sat center-ring completely inattentive toward her recovering prey.

Suddenly the canvas began to quake as the Japanese beauty screeched; careening across the ring and launching into a fully-sprawled drop-kick just as Debling turned around. There was a stomach-churning CRACK of bone and flesh as the blonde whipped around and ATE a pair of heels square in the cheek; her neck snapping half a revolution as her frame was gracelessly lawn-chaired and skid to a messy stop on her hip. Debling gurgled as she tipped flat to her belly, leaking crimson-tinted drool, the sporadic rise of her panting chest buoying her sternum atop her heaving G-cups. Matsugane looked to quickly climb ahead in the strip race; straddling Debling’s waist and peeling the Brit’s bandeau top over her head, leaving her face-down and completely topless. Debling’s lower half shook and rocked as the brunette then shimmied her string thong bottoms down her thighs; the sweat-matted material clinging to her skin before finally sliding free of her plump folds.

The starry-eyed blonde whimpered as Yoko stood over her lower half and dug her heels into the back of Debling’s thick thighs; next leaning forward and arresting her wrists from the back. Suddenly the Brit WAILED back to life, her curvy frame curling into an agonizing bow as Matsugane sat back and VAULTED Debling into a mangled Ceiling Hold. The blonde threw her head straight back as her naked frame was stretched to the rafters; her heavy chest quaking with spasms as she pant in excruciating pain, her thighs pried into a humiliating split that revealed her plump, shaved slit. Debling hoarsely screamed her submission, her thighs wiggling further apart as she sunk deeper into the unorthodox, unpolished hold; her agony only accentuated by the amateur applying it.

“You’re not going anywhere, cunt” Matsugane barked in Japanese, yet with a language-defying tone. Streaks of smoky mascara trailed down the blonde’s flushed cheeks as she howled and blubbered, collapsing in upon herself like a dying star until finally she floundered out of the hold and fleshily sloshed to her backside. Debling’s pancaked chest shook with jolting spasms, her sternum rocking with soft, deep sobs as she sprawled almost paralyzed on her back. Matsugane struggled for a moment herself, eventually tossing her torso over the Brit’s midsection with a cross-body pin. Debling’s mouth hung open in crippled shock, eyes glued to the lights as Matsugane added a leg-spread element to her pin; scooping up one of Melissa’s thick stems and tucking her thigh into a wrenching split as the 3-count drummed home.