Zafta the Giraffe

Standing on the other side of the ring was the biggest person she ever saw. She was a towering giraffe. Blocky dark brown splotches covered most of her light brown body. The only parts free from the splotches were the tan portions of her fur which ran from her inner thighs all the way to her chin. Of course, being a giraffe, she had a long neck. Long flowing blond hair reached her shoulders. A short pair of horns and ears poked out from it. She had a heavy pear shape. Not to say her upper body was lacking. In fact, here heavy breast would put watermelons to shame. They strained her black sports bra to the limit and he arms had toned muscles on them, but they didn't hold a candle to her thighs and butt. Her athletic blue shorts were practically a thong on the verge of snapping from her otherworldly booty. Even if most of her body has a layer of chub, anyone could see her powerful muscles shift whenever she moved, especially her thighs and rear. They looked like they could crush steel. One couldn't help but imagine what they could do to a squishy law woman. A relatively short tail had a small tuft on the end. Her feet only had two hoofed toes as well. Texas was no stranger to massive foes, but this was something else. With every second that ticked by, the start of the match was approaching and her dread grew.

The giraffe paid her no mind. She was too busy stretching, showing off her body for the crowd. Under the bright lights, she was already starting to sweat, giving her body a light sheen. She has her back to her as she bent low, causing her butt to flex, nearly finishing off her shorts. Miraculously, they stayed in one piece. She turned her head around to look at Texas.

"You know, I almost feel sorry for you. Almost. Too bad for you, we had to replace another jobber who had an... early retirement. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don't worry though. As long as you bring in the ratings, management will make sure you're always ready for another round," she said, trying to sound supportive, but she only made Texas feel even worse. By now, she knew that trying to talk her way out of this was futile.

The speakers above sounded off with an electronic bell ringing.

"Good luck. You'll need it," she said with a genuine smile.

"We have a show for you tonight. Here we have an all-time favorite Zafta! At just over twenty-two feet and weighing fifteen hundred pounds, she's been the bane of Jobbers since her first match!" the announcer shouted over the speakers.

The crowd roared in approval. Zafta bowed to them, taking in the admiration.

"And in the other corner, we have our favorite sheriff, Texas! In her short time with us, she's been smashed, squashed, trampled, chewed out, and so much more! Let's see if she leaves the ring as a tattoo!"

The crowd roared again. This time, they shouted things like, "Get squashed! Stomp her flat, Zafta!"

It was clear who the crowd was rooting for, demoralizing Texas even further.

"And begin!"

The bell rang and Zafta made her move. She leaped forward, legs first like she was going to drop-kick her. Instead, she separated her thick legs and clamped them around Texas. Zafta and by extension Texas hit the ground. The entire ring shook from the impact. Zafta squeezed the former sheriff. Not enough to squash her flat, but more than enough to squeeze the air from her lungs. Only her head was free from the mighty pythons, but it would only take a flex to fix that. She could feel the steely muscles beneath the fat, ready to tense and squash her flat. Zafta paid her no mind. Instead, she was focused on the crowd.

"Well, what do think I should do to her?" She asked the crowd, flexing her thighs slightly, nearly flatting Texas with such a small move.

The crowd roared to life again, giving suggestions, each one worse than the last. Texas would have gulped if she could while she awaited Zafta's decision. It was all she could do, pinned between her thighs.