E.B.W.W.

"Well since I've taken a leave of absence from The Sexboards, I thought I might as well post something on here. I've been busy trying to finish several stories and I needed some opinions on this one. This is only the first fall, there are more to come. Good luck in life and in writing."     — Stone


Sam Chase had loved the AWWE since it started over half a year ago; now he was finally going to get the chance to start his own federation. He knew it would never reach the heights that the AWWE had attained, but he was certain that the crowd would love the women just as much as the wrestling. He enjoyed the great technical wrestling along with the brutal savagery that had gone unmatched in any league. So instead of trying to make a federation where the women actually have talent—Lord knows the fans wouldn’t care—he concerned himself with making a league where he could sell tapes and make real money.

Sam had attempted a career in professional wrestling himself, but he severely injured his knee in a car accident a year ago, ending his career. He had a business degree to fall back on but made ends meet by working as a computer repairman. He received a gig as a bouncer for the local strip club and found that job more entertaining and enlightening than fixing some office worker’s printer. After several months of work he had caught the AWW matches when they turned extreme. Immediately, he was a huge fan.

He was completely professional, making sure the strippers were safe—there was never much trouble in the small town where he lived—and never tried to make any too obvious passes at the ladies themselves; although the same couldn’t be said for some of the more “loose” women. Some had even come out and revealed their love of professional wrestling and their desire to one day enter into the squared circle themselves. It was when the AWWE started bringing in new talent that the gears in Sam’s head started to grind. He knew a lot of the girls wanted to be in the ring but never had any legitimate training—besides the holds Sam showed them—or were simply too afraid to but their luscious bodies on the line in such an extreme league.

So after several weeks of arranging with the manager at the strip club—a relatively seedy man, but you wouldn’t expect a strip club owner to be a saint—to “borrow” some of his ladies, Sam had everything planned for his first professional comeback; only this time, he wasn’t going to wrestle, he was in charge. He had rented the ring from his old wrestling school for a very cheap price, gotten approval from Sykes, the strip club owner/manager, to hold the matches on a Monday night—when business was at its slowest—and even booked a card.

It was the February fifth, the first night of the E.B.B.W. He had even sold out the house, which was rare considering the only time the club ever filled up was for touring centerfolds. It had been kept very quiet, so as not to alert too many of the local prudes—there was enough trouble having a strip club, but a female wrestling league would send a lot of the prudes up in arms. The flyer that was passed out around the local college, bars, and even the strip club was so secretive that if you didn’t understand wrestling you wouldn’t know what the event was about.

On a small yellow sheet of paper, there was a picture of a ring with the letters “E.B.W.W.,” and underneath it read: “Where our puppies always are always exposed to the nicest conditions. 2-5-01, Sykes Pit, Midnight”

Sure enough, two weeks later on the fifth, scores of men, and even quite a few—good-looking—ladies showed up, filling every seat in the dank club. The stage and runway had been taken apart to make room for the ring. It had been given extra padding so some of the lesser-experienced ladies wouldn’t get hurt too badly. Sam had trained the women for nearly three months before releasing the flyers. He took a lot of the younger girls to his old wrestling school to be trained by some of the other females. The ones who had gone to the school before but never had been given the opportunity had rehearsed with Sam.

He had a total of eight women, three of which were proficient in the art of wrestling—among other skills. They knew how to sell, what moves are dangerous, how to take bumps, and so on. Sam had wagered on that he would pit a rookie against one of his more qualified girls. He knew the crowd didn’t care if the match was boring, but he was dead set against having cheesy strip matches. The day had come and the matches were booked; the crowd had paid the eighteen-dollar cover charge, along with the two-drink minimum, to watch his ladies compete.

He came out on the mike into the middle of the ring, the crowd’s cheers were deafening. At 6’4” and 239lbs., Sam was an impressive figure, and somewhat of a local hero. The ring area was roped off and extra security was added—most of which were off-duty police officers—to make sure nothing got out of hand and the ladies weren’t put in any danger. There were ten rows of seats on all three sides of the ring; the DJ controlled the bell and the time, along with the ring music. The stage was left behind the ring so the women could come out, strut, then get into the ring without having to get too close to the crowd. Sam was never quite gifted in the creative department—as obvious by his cheap promo he designed for the flyer—but the crowd still popped nonetheless.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to The E.B.W.W.” He smiles at the excited crowd response, “I can still get a pop out of ‘em,” he thinks to himself. “First off I would like to thank all of you for coming out tonight, especially at this hour; so how was Nitro?” He laughed at the chorus of boos and did an imitation of Mick Foley’s cheap pop, plugging the hometown, even though he lived there himself.

“Okay, seriously,” he continued, wiping a tear from his eye, “many of you don’t know what ‘E.B.W.W.’ stands for…and probably some of you don’t care as long as you get to see puppies.” This brought another large pop from the crowd and he laughed in spite of himself. “We all know that ‘The Big Three’ ain’t cutting it no more, their action is non-existent and so is there talent; personally I’m glad they fired that brutal, dirty, ugly, disgusting, bottom-feeding, trash bag ho, Pamela Paulshock.” And again the crowd cheered.

“But we all enjoy the AWWE and the wonderful ladies they have. But what about some of us who don’t like to see a hot piece of ass,” a couple guys in the audience howled, obviously having too much to drink already, “get her face cut off? Especially when we just want to see puppies!” This time the whole place cheered. “That is what the E.B.W.W. is all about. It stands for, ‘Extremely Busted Women Wrestling,’ and that’s what we got!” Everybody cheered; many catcalls could be heard. “So enjoy your evening and treat these girls nice, now let’s get it on!”

The crowd jumped to their feet as a techno/rave song started to play and they clapped with the beat. The curtain opened and a beautiful big-busted Asian woman stepped through. She had on a light blue floral print bikini that firmly held her 36DD’s. The DJ introduced her as Persian Kittie and the crowd cheered more as she started to gyrate on stage and even perform her signature pole dance, doing things that would make the Olympic team look amateur. Aside from her substantial chest, she was very lithe and, as demonstrated, quite limber. Her real name was Meena and she had moved to the town only a year ago with her boyfriend. She caught him sleeping with one of the other girls at the club and dumped the loser. But she still held some bitter hostility towards the skanky Mexican who fucked her man. Sam knew of this rivalry and set up a match between the two—nothing was better than legit heat in order to not only get crowd reaction, but also put on a great, if somewhat brutal, match.

There was a quiet pause while Kittie waited in the ring for her opponent, her focus now on the match instead of milking the fans for tips. Sam laughed as he heard Eddie Guerro’s music start to play and the crowd actually chanted “Latino heat.” The curtain opened and a Hispanic hottie, with beautiful, perfectly round 42F jugs, came strutting out. Her figure was quite stacked at 5'8" and 154lbs, a lot of it breast flesh—although another large portion was her expansive derrière. She stepped through the bottom ropes, pausing in-between to bounce her ass up and down in front of the audience. Her tiny gold thong bikini displayed at much as possible. She immediately dropped her warm façade when she saw Meena staring her down.

“C’mon, puta, let’s see what’chu got,” Angelina, otherwise known as Angel, exclaimed, as she made a "come-and-get-me" gesture. Angel had a very dark complexion, since she was a native Puerto Rican and had moved to the America with her family when she was child, when her father had to look for work in rural towns. Growing up she was always a troublemaker, not to mention she had a reputation for being very “loose.” It was her nature to often screw guys she knew to be in steady relationships for spite and as a subconscious way of marking her territory. She had gotten into many fights and only started stripping because she couldn’t find a steady job anywhere else. Angel had long hair equal to Meena’s, down to the middle of her back, with the only exception that hers was curly as opposed to the Asian girl’s silky fine hair—not to mention the blonde highlights.

There was immediate popularity for this match due to the public knowledge of Angel’s affair with Meena’s boyfriend. Many of the other women at ringside were also behind Kittie because the Spanish whore had also fucked their men and this was their chance at payback. There were a lot of catcalls from the fans at ringside and “Puppies!” chants were already beginning. Angel playfully cupped her enormous orbs and squeezed them together, further enhancing her bountiful bust. Angel had removed all of her body jewelry, save her tongue and clit studs. She had a tattoo of two lion paw prints on the top of her breasts and a small scorpion on her ankle. Meena gave her opponent the finger and tried to spear Angel. She had the foresight to telegraph Kittie’s attack and snapped the Asian girl’s head forward in a DDT. The crowd flew to their feet cheering; most still screaming for “Puppies!”

Meena was quick to recover, slowly getting to her knees, holding the front of her head. Angel was a lot faster; she grabbed the Persian Kittie by her long hair and dragged Meena into the corner. Angel started laying in stomps to Meena’s stomach and chest. She tried to cover up but the Latino bitch was too fast. Angel finally stopped and posed for the crowd. Everybody seemed to simultaneously chant, “Show your tits!” Angel teased the crowd by unhooking her top and holding the shiny gold material up with her hands. She was slowly starting to show her nipples when Meena attacked the Hispanic slut from behind.

Everyone’s attention was on the stripper that they failed to notice the smaller Asian girl sneaking up on Angel. Her mouth made a large “O” formation and she promptly dropped her bikini top on the canvas. Kittie had crawled up behind Angel and, when the opportunity arose, swiftly drove her right fist up into the crotch of her opponent. Angel dropped to her knees and Sam realized the match had already gone too far, but he was excited to see what would transpire—both women told him not to stop the match no matter what happened.

The Persian Kittie got to her feet and delivered a devastating dropkick to the back of Angel’s head, laying the Spanish girl out flat on her face. Grabbing a handful of Angel’s curly, brown hair, Meena started repeatedly slamming her headfirst into the mat. The crowd counted ten, then all the ladies—who had previous altercations with Angle—stood and applauded the Persian Kittie. When she was finished—Angel was too dizzy to even know what day it was—Meena flipped Angel over and locked her long, smooth legs around Angel’s stomach and squeezed. She thrashed around in the middle of the ring, her legs pounding up and down on the mat, as the air was expelled from her lithe body.

Sam knew that submission moves were a sure killer for any match. It slowed the pace down and took all the heat from the match. The only exception was for finishing moves or when the recipient of the submission powered out, usually with the crowd support. But neither of these girls were fan favorites, so he knew there was little hope for the match. But Sam also reasoned that this wasn’t supposed to be a scripted match, that both of these girls actually wanted to hurt the other. That was why he set up a cut table on the stage and an extra-padded chair—similar to the ones used on old WCW matches; hard plastic with a large cushion on the seat. “If the crowd sounds like they’re bored, take the fight out of the ring and make sure one of you go through the table; that’ll make ‘em happy.” Those words flew through his head like an echo and he unconsciously swallowed, afraid that the match could go far beyond his expectations.

Angel arched her back up, trying to ease the pressure from Meena’s body scissors. All the women in the audience were yelling at the Persian Kittie to: “rip her tits off!” Meena obligingly dug her sharp red nails into the Hispanic girl’s firm breasts. Angel screamed as her enormous mammaries were savagely attacked, she writhed in Kittie’s scissors, squealing in pain. “C’mon, bitch, scream for me!” Meena yelled, as she twisted Angel’s large orbs, sinking her talons in deeper. Sam smiled weakly, he enjoyed watching the dark-skinned slut scream, but didn’t want anybody to get too hurt.

Kittie firmly grasped Angel’s erect nipple and leaned back, pouring more pressure on her leg scissors and trying to rip Angel’s nipple from her chest. The Puerto Rican slut started howling for pain and finally retaliated. She pulled back her right hand and drove it into Kittie’s soft pelvic area. Meena grunted; the blow had struck between her abdomen and right above her pubic hair. She released her holds and curled up, trying to suck in air. Angel rolled over, trying to rub the pain out of her prize puppies. Angel crawled out of the ring and picked up the folding chair, she brought it in the ring with her. Meena was just getting to her feet; her opponent had completely caught her off guard with that punch. She didn’t even see the chair coming at her but the clang of the metal echoed in her head as she collapsed onto her back.

The crowd booed an obvious heel move, but Sam smiled, at least that part was rehearsed. Unfortunately he didn’t know that Angel had struck Meena with enough force to almost knock the hot Asian girl out, instead of just nicking her on the temple. Angel unfolded the chair and sat it down on the mat. She picked her opponent up, not wasting any time trying to milk the crowd; it was futile anyway considering the heat she already had with the town regardless of her performance in the match. Meena had a large red welt on her head but was not bleeding—yet. Angel locked in Kittie in and was about to go for a suplex; she had positioned the chair so Meena’s body would land across it. Kittie blocked the suplex; Angel tried again only to fail. Meena reversed it, holding the Spanish girl in the air, showing off her strength—it was obvious which one was the more experienced of the two in this match now—and fell front ways so Angel’s legs were straddling the back of the chair.

The crowd gave a resounding “Oh!” as did Angel whose nearly bare pussy had come crashing down on the cold metal of the chair. She was frozen, legs spread to either side of the chair. Kittie swiftly climbed out onto the apron and aimed for her opponent. With amazing skill, she leaped onto the top rope—Sam’s heart froze as he hoped to God Meena would not screw up such a high risk maneuver—and performed a springboard missle-dropkick, hitting Angel hard in the face—payback for the stiff chair shot she took earlier.

The crowd flew to their feet cheering the talent Asian fighter. Chants of “A-W-W” broke out and Meena posed for the crowd, jumping onto each turnbuckle—she was apparently proud that she didn’t screw up either. Angel lay on mat, hands between her legs, moaning. While Meena grandstanded, Angel crept to her knees and waited until the crowd started pointing behind Kittie. Meena got a confused look on her face and when she turned around her eyes shot open wide as the large Spanish girl came rushing at her. Angel spread Meena with all her might, folding her in two, she gored Kittie into the ropes and they both fell out of the ring onto the floor.

Security was quick to restrain some of the fans, Sam knew they crowd was civilized, but most of the women seemed the biggest threat, yelling curses at Angel. The mats spread around the ring prevented either from getting hurt, however Sam feared that they might do the most damage to each other and hell with the padding then. Angel quickly got to her feet while Persian Kittie got onto all fours. Angel screamed at the Asian girl to get up right before she kicked Meena hard in the gut, rolling the sexy Asian woman onto over her back.

Angel dragged Meena to her feet by her long black hair. She ran and slammed Meena’s face into the post. Sam was glad he had added a thick layer of foam around it for just such a case. However the impact with the solid post has been enough to daze Meena and she lean against the soft blue padding, holding her head. The Latino bitch was without remorse, she rammed Kittie’s head against the post one more time. Meena whimpered as her pretty face was being disfigured. Angel then focused on her opponent’s large tits. Even though they were smaller than her own, she wanted to put Meena up for a few weeks and she already knew how sensitive the Asian woman’s breasts were.

Angel grabbed each of Meena’s tits and moved them to either side of her body, so they weren’t being sandwiched between the post and Meena’s body. She walked in front of Kittie, on the other side of the post, and grabbed both of Meena’s arms. The crowd was on their feet they wanted to see what Angel had in store. She planted her foot on the post and leaned back, trying to pull the arms out of Meena’s sockets. She held this move for perhaps a minute while the Persian Kittie screamed. Angel then stopped, while still holding onto Meena’s arms, and delivered a vicious standing kick into the Asian girl’s large boobs, crushing Meena’s nipple between her foot and the post.

Kittie started screaming as Angel repeated this kick, flattening her firm ivory tits flat. Angel gave Meena’s breasts another kick then released her. Kittie lay against the post, sobbing and holding her injured mammaries. Angel reached in the ring for the chair that had been knocked over from the dropkick earlier. She folded it up and pulled back, intending on crushing Meena’s tit underneath the metal. She saw this coming in time fortunately and moved out of the way, just as the chair clanged against the post. The Persian Kittie quickly recovered and as Angel was about to swing again, Meena performed another dropkick, smashing Angel’s face against the other side of the steel chair.

The crowd cheered as their favorite made a comeback. Meena still cradled her right breast, red welts already forming. Angel stumbled around the ring, until she climbed on the stage. She saw the table and the gears in her evil head started to spin. Angel folded down one of the table legs and slid it into the ring, placing it against the turnbuckle. She climbed into the ring, checked it once more; satisfied with her work she turned around to find Kittie but she was already waiting for her. In a flash, Kittie jumped up on Angel’s shoulders and flipped the Spanish girl over in an amazing hurrican-rana. The crowd jumped to their feet and cheered Meena; they were all impressed with the Asian girl’s talent.

Kittie jumps to her feet and milks the crowd some more. Angel is still on the mat holding the back of her head while Meena showboats, shaking her tits for the audience. Sam flashes a light, giving Meena the signal to end the match; it’s almost the ten-minute mark. Kittie grabs Angel by her long hair, hoisting the Latino girl to her knees; she whispers to her, “Sam said time to end, say goodnight, bitch.” Angel shot a quick right hand into Meena’s gut, doubling the Asian girl over. Angel had told Sam, “I ain’t gonna job to that puta,” and she was serious enough to risk injuring Meena rather than put on a good show. This was about marking her territory, she was out to make name for herself.

Angel shot another right hand into Meena’s cunt, eliciting a squeal of pain from the Asian girl. Angel stood up and placed the smaller girl’s head between her legs. The crowd stood on their feet as Angel yelled out, “This is The Melting Pot, baby,” right before she picked Kittie up and performed a running powerbomb through the table. The crowd roared as the table shattered into splinters; a unanimous “OH!” echoed throughout the small club. Angel pulled Meena from the wrecked, covered her as the DJ counted three. The chorus of boos was so boisterous that Sam couldn’t hear the DJ announce Angel the winner. The “Latino Heat” music played as men threw money into the ring, Angel went around to collect tips, the security guards watching for any attackers.

Meena was helped out of the ring by some of the bouncers; a lot of the younger males were chanting, "E-C-Dub!" Even Sam couldn't believe how out of hand the match had gotten; he hoped Meena wasn't hurt too badly. Still he couldn't help but grin as he watched the energy the crowd had—they were a far cry from the sickos in the AWWE. He expected them to just sit like zombies until some girl got stripped, but they actually reacted like a bunch of well-trained marks.

— the end —

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