Cherry takes it outside.

You wipe globs of white foam from your eyes, the camera folk getting a real good close-up on your ridiculous state, as Cherry Bomb reaches down towards you. She manages to grab your golden locks through the mounds of foam and begins dragging you to your feet. Soon you are being led by your hair, like a disobedient dog, dragged around against your will. With your shorts still embarrassingly at your ankles, moving through the hallways proves difficult, but you manage to keep up with Cherry’s pace. The devilish redhead leads you through some double doors and out towards the parking lot. The scent of fresh rain and suffocating exhaust fill your nostrils, as you are brought over to the cars. Cherry throws you into your own car, foam flying in all directions, staining your vehicle with the white gunk. You shake droplets of foam, as you swing your head back and forth, finally relieving yourself of some of the weight. The condition of your car is of little consequence, your only concern being the avoidance of further debasement.

“What a crappy car. Perfect for a crappy wrestler like you Goldie.” Cherry belittles you some more, the mockery continuing to serve as an aphrodisiac, causing your knees to wobble while your loins tingle. You struggle to remain atop your feet, but that becomes a fleeting concern, as Cherry lifts you off of your feet. Sour Cherry uses her physical prowess to lift you into a military press position, holding you high for just a moment, before dropping you onto the hood of your car. The hood dents in as your entire weight is slammed onto it. You slowly roll off of the hood, falling onto the ground with a SPLAT!. The recent rainfall created a mud puddle right at the front of your car, which you unfortunately land right into. The white foam is supplanted with a fresh layer of mud, your entire front half now covered in thick and stinky muck. A wave of embarrassment washes over you, causing your body to heat up, and your skin to break out into a sweat. Cherry places a foot atop your body, putting enough pressure on you, to roll you back and forth in the mud.

It doesn’t take long for your entire body to be covered in mud, and when your tumultuous roll in the mud comes to an end, you look up to face Cherry Bomb. Your dumbfounded expression is met with a mudball to the face, your features now stained with a clump of dirt. Cherry runs her fingers through your hair, messing up your blonde locks, rubbing the mud into your once precious hair. “Ah Goldie, looks like you had a little accident. Let me get you out of those filthy clothes.” Cherry feigns sympathy as she starts clawing at your top. With the speed and expertise of a mature woman, Cherry Bomb whips your top off in seconds, before tossing it to the crowd of passerby that have now gathered. Cherry Bomb does the same for the rest of your outfit, relieving you of all pieces of clothing, exposing your natural beauty to all. Not even the mud and foam can hide your curvaceous form, earning cheers and whistles of approval from the folks that have come to watch your beatdown.