Wendy the Witch

"Introducing first, from Salem, Massachusetts, the evil genius of the Brat Pack, the bewitching beauty herself, Wendy the Witch!"

A song by Marilyn Manson starts to play, you recognize his voice but not the song itself. Wendy's wearing her pointed witch hat and green eyeshadow, and a black lace dress. Her breasts are visible through it, but she's wearing a black thong. Also, thigh-high boots that look a lot like the ones you're wearing. You can't help notice how little trouble she seems to have balancing in them.

You try to think back about what you remember about Wendy. She's got a lot of tricks up her sleeve, but she's pretty solid all around. But those tricks... well hell, you're not going to let her get away with that stuff when you're refereeing.

Are you?

Wendy is one of Chichi's friends... well, stablemates... and you haven't decided not to go bad girl.

Wendy slinks into the ring and slowly rises to her feet, right in front of you. She takes half a step forward, her breasts pressing into yours, and then she looks you up and down.

"Another fucking blonde. We are gonna have so much fun with you."

You try looking bored. "That's what they all say at first."

"Really?" Wendy sneers. "And what do they say later?"

You lock eyes with her. "My name. As loud as they can scream it."

"You've got a big mouth for someone who can barely stand up." And before you can react, Wendy slips the heel of one of her boots underneath the heel of one of yours and kicks. You grab the ropes before you fall all the way down, but... well, so much for looking like a badass. She grabs you by the face with one hand. "Just gotta cream yet another uppity jock and then I'll deal with you."

Your second impulse is to run back to your room and burn this stupid dominatrix outfit.

Your first is to grab her by the hair and throw her on the ground.

You do neither. Wendy flounces across the ring and pushes Candy aside as she climbs up on the turnbuckle. Since she's facing away from you you don't see what she does to the fans, but they start booing even louder. Candy takes it in stride.

"And her opponent, making her SWF debut! The daughter of our very own soccer mom Tanya Stevens, but I think she plays lacrosse instead? Introducing, TRICIA STEVENS!"

If Tricia is at all shy of the crowd, she doesn't show it. Wearing a tiny pair of green jogging shorts and a white tank top with clearly nothing on under it, she jogs to the ring, slapping hands with the fans.

Since you're supposed to be the ref but this is about them, not you, you casually step in between them so Wendy doesn't try to attack her when she gets in the ring. Tricia rolls in and bounces to her feet - she's no bodybuilder, but she's definitely built like an athlete and when she jumps the muscles in her leg ripple. Keeping one eye on Wendy, she slowly raises one leg and puts it on the top rope, then leans forward to stretch.

You think back to what Tanya told you. Tricia's been introduced to combat sports but all she wanted to do was have sex with everyone. But how good did she get? Well, that's probably going to be either her problem or Wendy's, not yours.

"Hey Ref." Tricia says.

"What?"

"You gonna search me for foreign objects or what?"

You look her up and down.

"Here, put that leg up here..." You grab her ankle rough, but then gently put it on your shoulder. "And let's see here."

You run your hands down her leg, starting at her calf. Her skin is warm and soft, and she's wearing just a tiny bit of perfume. With a grin, she tightens the muscles in her thighs as you run your hands over them. Trying not to look impressed, you keep moving up to the jogging shorts, and, staring into her eyes, slide your right hand up the back of them and your left up the front.

She's already damp.

And although she's smiling and trying to act like she's cool, you feel the goosebumps on her skin.

You pull your hands out of her shorts and slide them up her stomach to her breasts. They're delightfully firm. Her nipples feel like they could cut diamonds. But there's nothing stashed in her shirt or between her breasts.

Nothing happens.

Now, since you checked one girl, you have to check the other...

Crap.

Wendy is not going to like this.

You walk towards her, somehow managing to not wobble in those stupid boots, and try to push her back into the corner.

"Don't even think about it." Wendy snarls at you.

Originally by ThaCat005