-WHAM!!!-

You never see the kick coming.

And you can barely see anything now. Your body completely ignores any commands you give it, and your feel more like an observer than a participant as your body drops to the mat, completely limp.

As rage filled your mind and you blindly charged at your curvy foe, she had reeled back one of her soft shapely legs into a deadly weapon, and unleashed it across your face as soon as you were in range.

You're vaguely aware of shooting pain through your jaw and neck, but all of your senses are so dulled you aren't sure if you're actually awake or not.

Stars dance across your vision, as you struggle to regain focus.

When did you roll onto your back?

You must have, since you're looking up at the lights now. Are those lights? Or is that just a concussion.

FOCUS!!

You furiously blink, fighting to regain control of your body.

You see her limp towards you, arms still tied behind her back with a portion of the insanely slutty attire she decided to fight in.

Her.

That fucking bitch who came into this ring both completely under-trained and completely under-dressed.

Who made a mockery of your ring with her slutty antics_. _Who cared so much more about looking sexy than learning how to wrestle.

Who was only here to feed her own vanity driven ego and deserved every single ounce of punishment you could humble her with.

And who currently has you barely hanging on to consciousness, fighting tooth-and-nail not to lose to this topless piece of jobber fuckdoll.

My wife stands directly over you know, her bare tits glistening in sweat under the overhead lights, her face contorted in pain, humiliation, and grit. You can just make out a **** beam of hope shining through her eyes as she moves to finish you off and escape this night.

You won't allow yourself to lose to this pathetic jobberslut who dared step into your ring, who dared lowblow you in front of your fans in your moment of triumph.

Her shapely leg pulls back one more time, aiming to put you out cold. Her dainty sole, still covered by the silk stocking, briefly takes up your groggy vision. You pour every ounce of will into shooting up, to dodge her attack and get your **** on the scantly clad wannabe.