Celebrity Wrestling

Night 4, Match 3

As the medical staff took Elisha Cuthbert to her dressing room, Brittney Spears sat in her dressing room. She had watched the match and was concerned over Cuthbert's health, but that concern quickly turned to hope. She found herself hoping that she would have a match with Elisha, thinking that it would surely guarantee her 15 points. She started to feel a little guilty for thinking that way as a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Before she could get out of her recliner, Josie Maran stepped into the room.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure I was clear about this plan of yours,” she said as Brittney approached her.

Meanwhile, Jessica Biel and Alba were ready to take off for the evening. Biel's match was over and as beat up as both of them were, they decided this would be a good night to get some rest. Biel was in a pair of tight, black workout shorts and a clingy white t-shirt that you didn't have to look too hard at to notice she wasn't wearing anything under it. Alba was still puttering around the dressing room, making sure they had cleaned everything up. She was wearing a grey pair of cotton shorts which barely covered her shapely ass with the waist folded down like it was. She also had on a baggy, red t-shirt with the name of a band on it that came down almost as far as the shorts.

“I'm going to go get the car started and get the A/C going,” Biel said. “I know this could take you a while.” She turned and started off chuckling a little. As she made it to the corner of the hall, she turned and ran into Brooke Burns. They both stumbled back a little, surprised at the minor collision.

“What? You're too good to watch where you're going?” Burns asked, sarcastically. Just because you won your first match everyone's just supposed to get out of your way?” Brooke had been walking in with her tag-team partner Kim Smith and was looking very irritated.

“Hey, I'm just leaving. I didn't know you were there,” Biel replied. “I had a tough match and I just want to go home.” Biel had been knocked into the wall and was facing Brooke while Kim, who'd continued to walk as the two bumped, was behind her. “Is it really necessary to get all bent out of shape?”

“I'll bend you out of shape you little tramp,” retorted Burns. “Maybe I'll just give you a little preview of Saturday. Kim and I are going to beat you silly. Consider it an educational beating if you want.”

“What is your malfunction? If you're so confident that you and ‘Bubbles' here are going to somehow win that match, why square off like this, now? I think you're just hoping that y'all can get me two on one and try to hurt me because you know that once we climb into that ring, you don't have a chance. I don't put your odds so great right now, come to think of it.”

As Brooke responds by getting directly up into Jessica's face, Kim looks down the hall from where Biel came. Jessica Alba is strolling down the hall, whistling. “Brooke, her twin is coming this way. Let's just get to the room, okay?”

“Saturday, whore. You get in the ring with me first and let's see how cocky you are then,” Brooke says as she backs away from Jessica.

“You're on. And I can't wait,” Jessica replies as she heads to the car.

In the ring, our next two competitors are preparing for battle. Sarah Foster, all 5'10 of her, stretches in her corner. Her blue string bikini and blue wrestling boots are covering little enough of her that the crowd is fixated on her every move. Susan Ward is in the other corner and she looks ready to go in her red bikini shorts and black sports bra. Black wrestling boots complete the outfit. Susan, again, finds herself at a distinct disadvantage in height, giving up a full half of a foot to her blonde counterpart.

The wrestlers meet, center-ring, as the match starts. As Sarah lifts her hand for a test of strength, Susan drives her shoulder into her gut and wraps her arms around her, lifting and dropping Foster to the mat, face-down. Ward comes down on top of her and straddles her back, sliding down and sitting on her buttocks. She starts driving fists into Sarah's kidneys, taking full advantage of her positioning. Sarah grunts in pain, unable to protect herself as Susan punches her repeatedly. 5 times. 6 times. She's not letting up as she continues to pummel the blonde beauty. After a minimum of twenty punches, Ward scoots back up Sarah's prone form, holding right over her lungs and continuing to sit on her. She grips Sarah's hair with her left hand, yanking her head off the floor. She then starts punching Foster's neck and shoulder with her right hand. Again, she cruelly continues beating her opponent, knowing that she has no hope of protecting herself or escaping. “You tall blondes are all alike,” Susan taunts as she continues to bludgeon Sarah. “Always thinking you run shit. Always playing to the crowd, showing off. Well, I'm gonna show you a thing or two. I don't even care about points. I'm just going to beat you and beat you and beat you.” As she speaks, her punches come harder and harder. Sarah is starting to lose feeling in her right arm.

Just as she's about to submit, her attacker relents. Susan gets to her feet, dragging Sarah up with her by the hair. Foster tries to ease the pain from the hair-pull with her left hand, but her right dangles uselessly. Ward wraps her arms around Foster's waist and lifts her in a brutal bear hug, barely getting her feet off the ground. Sarah instantly feels the power in Susan's arms and realizes the life is being squeezed right out of her. She submits, but Sarah persists. Maintaining the hold until the ref forces her to break it. Sarah collapses to the floor upon her release and tries to crawl away from Susan. At the restart, Susan grabs her fleeing foe's left ankle as she gets to the ropes. Sarah grabs the ropes, hoping for an extended break, but she's forcefully yanked right back out into the center.

“Every time you try to get away from me, this will happen to you,” Susan warns as she stomps Sarah in the crotch after dragging her to the center. “I know that blonde pride of yours hasn't grasped this yet, but I'm going to fuck you up. Don't try to stop it. You're too stupid to stop it.” Sarah screams and reaches for her wounded womanhood. Susan still has a hold of her left ankle and as she sits up, she's forced into a lean to the right. Her left rib cage is exposed and the opportunist in Susan just can't resist as she stomps Sarah. Sarah slides her elbow over for protection and Susan counters by driving her boot into the kidney area. Sarah tries to reach back and cover there, so Susan stomps again on the ribs. This dance continues for a bit, Susan driving 6 or 7 good, firm kicks to the kidneys and 3 or 4 solid stomps to the ribs.

She then shifts her focus and kicks Sarah's left thigh. She still has Sarah's ankle, so she can't move her leg. Sarah tries to reach for the thigh, but she can't support herself with her right arm (which she still can't feel very well). Instead, she finds herself a sitting duck, just absorbing kick after vicious kick from Susan, who seems to crank the power up with each blow. Susan is looking rabid now as she just tees off on Sarah's thigh. Tiring of this attack, she shifts again, lowering the leg a little and opening up on Sarah's left knee. After about ten kicks there, she bends down and grabs the right ankle, holding Foster's legs up in a “V”. She looks down at her helpless foe and sends another tremendous stomp into her pussy causing a convulsive lunge from Sarah's torso. She bends Sarah's knee and intertwines their legs before sitting into a figure four leg lock, cranking up the pain in her left knee. Quickly, Sarah submits again. She suffers through Susan's refusal to break as tears start to stream from her eyes.

At the restart, Susan again latches on a figure-four leg lock. Sarah is screaming in pain as she submits a third time. The ref states that no point is awarded, then starts the count and forcing the break. Susan releases the hold, then latches it on again. “Please make her stop!” Sarah screams as pain explodes in her knee. “Oh my God! You have to stop her!” The ref is trying to force a break of the hold, but Susan argues that she hasn't submitted. As they discuss the ruling and the ref explains that this is supposed to be a break period, she maintains the hold. “Ref, GET HER OFF OF ME!”

Susan mercifully releases the hold and Sarah grabs her knee. Her sobs have become audible now, making Susan smile. At the restart, Susan drags her battered opponent off the mat, scoops her up and parades around the ring, showing her to the fans. The crowd has reacted positively to her brutal attack and they are cheering loudly for her. She makes her way back to the center of the ring and executes a painful back-breaker, dropping Sarah over her knee. She allows Sarah to fall to the mat and drags her up by the hair again. She lifts Sarah up and brings her down again executing a sadistic back-breaker which sends Sarah bouncing to the floor again. She drapes herself across Sarah's chest, pinning her shoulders. As the ref counts, she emphasizes each slap of the mat with a twist of Sarah's left tit. Each slap, she twists a little further, drawing more screams from the beaten blonde. After three, she maintains her grip on Sarah's tit, forcing the ref to break the hold. She gets up and poses to the crowd, resting her foot on her battered foe's chest as she soaks up the adulation of the crowd. After a few minutes, she heads out, high-fiving supportive fans on the way out.