Prepare for Training

You have to admit something. This whole thing isn't just about making your dreams come true. Betsy's got dreams of her own and if she wants to be an erotic wrestler then you want to see to it she's the best damn erotic wrestler she can be. Besides, you're well-equipped to train her up for it. Despite your short and wiry physique, you're an accomplished martial artist having won a few mixed martial arts championships and having moonlit a few times as a masked professional wrestler. The two of you could take that league by storm. You look into Betsy's big hopeful eyes and grin.

"Let's do it," you say, "we'll not only get you in, we'll make a champ out of you."

Betsy whoops with joy as she hugs you against her, planting smooch after smooch all over your face in her excitement.

"I'll just need to make a phone call or two before we can start training," you say, "but that can wait until morning."

The two of you go to bed and "wrestle" each other to sexual exhaustion and sleep. In the morning, you rise early and call some of your wrestling friends to get access to what you need. You've already chosen a huge room, put in during the remodel by Animorph, as the gym and arrange for exercise equipment, a practice ring, and suchlike to be set up in there. You're delighted to find that a couple other wrestlers, including your tag-team parter, have also found themselves clients of Animorph and have animal-girls of their own, also in the league. Thoughts of a tag-team partner for Betsy or even the formation of a stable (a rather approprate term given the nature of the competitors) flash through your mind. Either way, as you're a friend of many in this business, they rise to the occasion and soon, all is arranged. Still, you keep things quiet until the gym is complete. You want to surprise Betsy. When they're setting things up, you take Betsy to the park where you and she relax together canoodling and designing her ring attire.

"I'll make you proud of me," says Betsy.

"You already do," you assure her, caressing her cheek.

Upon returning home, you guide Betsy to the gym room and, with some ceremony, throw wide the door. Betsy gasps and staggers back as she sees it set up completely. She turns to you, astonished.

"For me?" she manages as you both enter.

"Nothing but the best," you say with a grin.

You are suddenly swooped up in Betsy's arms as she bounces around the room in joy.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she says, "You're the best master in the world!"