The appointed hour is near and the crowd - shoehorned into FAWN�s arena - mills, fidgets, and murmurs restlessly. The opening match of the card figured to be spectacular, pitting two women of both great athleticism and ring know-how, but also of great sensuality and sexuality. This was not going to be your matinee show and much of the electricity in the stands seemed generated by this knowledge.

Cameras pan the crowd, collecting intro shots for the �FAWN Unleashed� telecast. Included are a pod of frat boys, already drunk and causing a nuisance. Farther up the stands a sign flashes. �Danger: Flammable�Hot Body at work�. To the right, another. �Holly will ignite a five alarm all over Miriam�s ass�.

The cameraman struggles to find Miriam�s support, her fans more apt to bring their libido and little else, but finally red ink on white posterboard is found spelling out a lustful wish. �Holly�s punishment is our pleasure: Tip, Strip, and Dip.�

As Buck and Tammy highlight the card to the less fortunate fans watching through their boob tubes, the throng seems to gather in intensity, some moving to the edge of their seats, some straight to their feet.

A HUGE T&A pop resounds through the crowd as "Milkshake" by Kelis begins to play and Holly Hotbody steps from behind the curtains. Holly wears a red, satin, bra top, barely containing her ample cleavage, and red, low-cut, high-rise, satin, boy-cut shorts. On the back of the shorts are written the words "Caution: Extremely Hot". She completes the look with red, vinyl, knee-length, platform boots. Her auburn hair falls straight down her back. She surveys the crowd with a grin before sauntering to ringside.

Along the way, she slaps hands with the fans. She gingerly walks up the ringside steps before making a show of seductively entering the ring through the top and middle ropes, the crowd catcalling and whistling. With a hand on her hips, Holly blows a kiss to the fans, awaiting the entry of her second victim.

Without warning, the arena descends into blackness. For a moment, there is silence. Just a moment. And then the PA system explodes into life...

"Forfeit the game/Before somebody else/Takes you out of the frame/Puts your name to shame. Cover up your face/You can't run the race/The pace is too fast/You just won't last..."

As Linkin Park's "Points of Authority" fills the arena, the lights come back up, and a figure is visible at the top of the ramp. She is a beautiful girl, in an odd, ghostly sort of way. Her skin is pale, accentuating her unnaturally bright red hair and deep haunting green eyes. Her nails are painted blood red. A black vinyl "one piece" scarcely covers her breasts and crotch, the midsection left bare save a network of thin straps in a spider web pattern. The backside of the garment is open, save for the straps supporting the top half and the thong of the bottom. She accessorizes with matching fingerless, elbow-length gloves, black silk stockings with garters, and a black silk choker.

Miriam Gaiman makes her way down toward the ring, slowly at first, keeping to the middle of the aisle--assuring a healthy distance between her and any hands that might try to touch her. As she nears the ring, she picks up the pace, diving under the bottom rope as she reaches the apron, sliding to a halt on all fours, her tight backside elevated, drawing more than a few hoots and hollers, her eyes locking on her opponent's.

There's a manic glint to those eyes as she smiles unnervingly, appearing to almost hump the canvas a moment before backing herself into the nearest corner to await the bell. The crowd rises to a fever pitch with the overt sensual nature of every movement of the feline predator and the nearness of the hour when she might strike.

Holly peers at Miriam with an unimpressed smirk from the opposite corner, sending back a swivel of her shapely hips.

"Come on, honey. Give it up! You can't handle the FAWN sex sensation!" she shouts.

Miriam licks her lips and bounds to stocking feet. The deep blood-red of her painted kisser makes for easy reading.

�Oh, but I will handle you, hottie,� she mouths, before wrapping her tongue and lips around the tip of an index finger.

�DING. DING. DING.�

The two women circle, joining each other in a dance around the ring, both scanning for the smallest dip in concentration, but there is none. The rotations slowly bring Holly and Miriam together mid-ring, the auburn-haired beauty meeting Gaiman in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. The flaming redhead in vinyl and silk quickly interrupts the struggle for dominance. Breaking out, Miriam attempts to send Holly off to the far ropes with an Irish whip, but Holly nimbly reverses the situation and it is Gaiman�s sleek, pale body bounding into the ropes, whiplashing back to Holly who waits at mid-ring with a surprise.

The former stripper rotates into what could have been, what would have been, a destructive spin kick, but the cat-like reflexes of the redhead serve her well, Miriam ducking the effort. She catapults off the second set of ropes in her boomeranging journey and collapses Holly�s body amidship with a spear that catches Hotbody off-balance, the tawny beauty having spun to find Miriam after the swing and miss.

Miriam drives the air from Holly, her shoulder dipping deep into the solar plexus, then removing what little oxygen remains by spiking Holly into the mat with her follow-through, the double �uuuff� � �oooof�, beautiful music to Mir�s ears. Straddling Holly on all fours, her gleaming, ivory buns perched high, the redhead dips her face down to Holly�s neck and lays a big �lollypop lick� all the way to the tip of Holly�s chin.

�Are you Bethany�s tasty little gifty to me?�

Holly cannot offer a response more than a weak wiggle, her body too intent on sucking in as much O2 as possible. She offers little more as Miriam pops to the tips of her toes and yanks Hotbody to her feet via a handful of her long auburn locks.

Miriam draws her lips close to Holly�s ear, her warm breath caressing a lobe.

�If you love something, let it go.�

With that, Miriam whips the heavily ventilating Holly to the farthest corner, her back connecting with sufficient force to induce a pained grimace. Holly�s arms droop over the top rope to assist her balance. Miriam, positively beaming across the way, launches into a tumbling run criss-crossing the ring. The looks on the faces of the crowd are simply priceless as the pale S&M freak-ette bounds like Mary Lou Retton to a final handspring elbow, but the blow catches nothing but the air over the top buckle.

Holly ducks the pointed joint, instead collecting Miriam�s lower back with her shoulder, the redhead�s spine painfully arching around it. Moving away from the corner, Holly adds her arms to the vinyl straps that cross Miriam�s taut midriff. Lifting Miriam�s body off the canvas, the redhead�s stockinged toes tipping for the mat, she squeezes Gaiman like a bellows with a powerful reverse bearhug, treating her foe to a little oxygen deprivation of her own. Miriam coughs out a grunt that is multiplied several times when Holly drops to the mat, faceslamming the wide-eyed Gaiman to the canvas with a resounding thump.

Holly quickly moves to press her advantage, rolling Miriam to her back with the push of a knee-high red platform boot. Looking to the nearest buckle, she makes a quick decision and hustles to it, the crowd, already sensing acrobatic fireworks, roars its approval.

Those that frequented the best gentleman�s clubs across the 50 states knew that Holly never disappointed a crowd. Atop her perch, she renders a little shimmy shake-and-bake that sends her cleavage a bobbing, her hips a swiveling, not to mention not a few hearts a pounding. Having received her ovation, she blasts off from Canaveral, somersaulting in mid-air, her 360 splashdown aimed at the vinyl spiderweb across the ivory expanse of Miriam�s midriff. But mid-360, Miriam pulls her knees up and it is Holly�s gut that is impaled, the tawny abs giving way to Gaiman�s bony intrusion.

Holly rolls off and away, coughing and sputtering. Finally coming to rest, she rolls from side to side, holding her bruised belly and mumbling to herself inaudibly. Miriam pushes, with some effort, to her feet. Improvisation was always a strong point for Miriam in her �games� and this bailout was no different. But as Miriam closed with Holly from behind, the auburn-haired beauty rolling to her chest to protect her tummy, she was ready to bring this game to its next level.

Settling atop Holly�s back in a lowered catcher�s squat, Miriam pulls Hotbody�s arms behind her, locking them over her knees. She reaches forward and cups Holly�s chin with both palms then wrenches Holly�s delectable upper torso towards the ceiling in a spine-bending Camel Clutch. The erstwhile stripper�s teeth clench as Miriam joyfully proceeds with her taffy pull, Holly�s bosom pressing the limit of its red satin confinement, her cleavage heaving forward to the great delight of the front rows.

The ref slides in front of Holly�s pained visage and waits for a muffled grunt to ask if she�s had enough.

�Hell, nuh�uhhh,� she moans, Miriam�s emerald eyes dancing at this sign of defiance. The passionate redhead leans back even further, Holly�s face now pointed at the blinding lights above. Her eyelids squeeze shut from both the overpowering illumination and the ascending level of pain.

�Mmm�you�re hot alright,� Miriam coos, �and I get more bothered with each of those moans.� Miriam yanks harder to illicit another, but Holly fights her wishes and receives an unexpected reward.

�Bored now,� Gaiman notes, clearly jaded with the thrills of this move and ready to move on.

She disengages from Holly, allowing the auburn-haired beauty to flop forward, a little extra shove forcing Hotbody�s face into the mat with some �oomph�. Moving behind Holly, Miriam picks up her legs at the ankles and lifts her lower body off the mat, her sumptuous bosom left to support the bodyweight Miriam did not control.

Holly is blind to the proceedings, but as she feels her legs pulled up and wide and hears a giggle escape Mir�s lips, she can guess there is a loaded gun pointed at her privates. It only takes a split second for the muzzle to unload, Miriam driving a stomp into the middle of the wishbone, the tiny, red, satin boy-cut trunks providing scant protection as Gaiman�s foot invades to a guttural �oooh� from the crowd. Holly�s rosy lips part in a silent �O� as the shot hits home, a look of utter anguish mixed with doubt masks her drop dead gorgeous features.

Miriam rolls Holly to her back and leans in nose to nose, taking a playful nip of the tip. She sweeps away in a grand spin, moving to the corner. The blanched beauty hops up the buckles like a sadistic bunny, turns, and launches into a high-rising frogsplash that could rival anyone�s in height, Shea London included. The impact is equally as impressive, Holly aware of her impending arrival, but unable to force her body to respond to her commands, hands stuck between her legs.

Holly�s arms, ribs, and flat, tight belly take the brunt of the explosive force Miriam authors. The redhead acclimates for a moment, having been jarred herself. Seeing Holly�s half-pained, half-vacant hazel pools, she lays cross-body across Holly�s bulging bosom with her own modest pair on top. The ref slides next to the pinning combination and slaps�

ONCE�

TWICE�

Holly gets a shoulder up with a split second to spare, Miriam smiling down upon her.

�Goody gumdrops,� she says, beaming a 1000-watt smile, the grin not even wiped away by a reverberating smack of Holly�s open hand against her cheek. The smack seems to waken Miriam from a dream and she pops to her feet, picking up an unsteady Holly along with her. She immediately heaves Holly for the ride, but again the Lil Tre video star, showing an amazing resilience, reverses the Irish whip and it is Miriam�s pitter-pattering feet traipsing across the canvas, first away then back.

Holly leaps into the air upon her return and introduces her crotch to Miriam�s face, her muscular thighs like a vise around either ear. With great precision, she flips Miriam over with a hurricarana to the great relief and relish of the crowd. Miriam slides to the other side of the ring, a snail trail of perspiration greasing her way. Quickly, she�s back on her feet only to step into a clothesline that nearly decapitates the redhead, her charge finally slowed, green eyes blinking wide at Holly above her, smirk still not totally wiped from her face.

Holly hovers, gazing down with a smile of her own. Now, it is her turn to spread Miriam�s slender, stockinged legs wide, the small patch of black vinyl covering Mir�s mound an intoxicating target.

�Beg. Beg me to stop,� Holly shouts, but Gaiman slowly recovering her senses, instead motions Holly to give it her best shot, which she wholeheartedly does. Hotbody drops an elbow to Miriam�s sex, driving the point in hard and deep. The redhead yelps on impact, but the pain seems to quickly turn to stimulant, Miriam�s hips thrusting against the inserted joint.

Holly pulls away. This girl was no fake. She really was a freak. But it didn�t matter. All she had to do was beat her, not make her dislike it. Still, there was something about pulling a submission from this girl that intrigued her. Pushing Miriam to her chest, Holly plants her right foot between the redhead�s shoulderblades and grabs her arms, trapping her in a surfboard.

Pulling back, Holly screams what does not appear to be an idle threat.

�You want to keep your arms in place, I suggest letting Joe Blow here know about it.�

The ref slides in front of Miriam�s reddening face.

�What do you say? You had it?�

Miriam only snarls, wrenching her body one way then the other in a manner that would seem to yield more pain than any kind of an escape. Finally convinced she will receive no satisfaction, Holly releases Miriam from her bondage. She lets Miriam�s arms drop by her sides and backs away in subtle admiration. She slinks to the nearest set of turnbuckles and waits in the corner. As Gaiman flickers back to some meaningful progress, Holly climbs first to the middle buckle then to the top, just as the red-haired taskmistress makes her way to unsteady feet, searching for her adversary.

At the very second Miriam finds Holly, her emerald eyes open wide, Hotbody already mid-flight, her supple tawny legs encircling Gaiman�s head, but for a second, before sending Miriam somersaulting on her way across the ring with a flying headscissors.

The crowd erupts as Holly pumps her fist in the air, the auburn-haired beauty quickly to her feet and tracking down her quarry. Miriam makes it to a seated position, her head wobbling, eyes glassy. She tries to push up as Holly approaches, but is rewarded with a bruise on her keister as she falls back to the mat, eventually to a dizzied spreadeagle.

Holly could see, as she nudged Miriam with a red platform without substantial response, that victory over this peculiar, but dangerous enemy was within easy reach. One more wild ride would put her on TILT. The girl wouldn�t even know enough about her surroundings to feel pain, pleasure, anything. Not for three seconds.

Holly grabs Miriam by the wrist and heaves the redhead up next to her, Hotbody providing Miriam stability until she sends the redhead for one final ride to the ropes, Gaiman bouncing back, completely out of control.

Once again, her timing impeccable, Holly leaps to meet Miriam�s astonished face, capturing it within her thighs. However, this time the meeting is brought to a mat-shuddering end in an entirely different way, as Holly is brought to earth by the redhead�s hand, Miriam reversing the would-be finale of a hurricarana into a devastating powerbomb that leaves Holly�s body trembling well after impact, finally falling still next to that of her exhausted counterpart. The two women lie shoulder to shoulder on their backs, the only movement, the gentle roll of their chests and a barely perceptible sway of the mat. The apron oscillates slightly with the fevered stomps of the ecstatic, electrified crowd, the pitch growing more fiery as the ref begins his dual count.

At four, it is Miriam up, rolling first to her chest, then pushing to all fours. Slowly, wearily, she makes it to Holly, Hotbody staring vacantly up into the lights, only for her view to be replaced with Miriam�s glistening features, beads of sweat dropping from strands of her fire engine locks.

�Let�s give these people a little taste of your show.�

The words drip from Miriam�s face like poisoned honey. Lifting the upper torso of the dazed Holly slightly, she undoes the strap of her red satin bra, elevating it off her magnificent globes almost delicately, then tossing it away. Beaming at the sight, her hands return to Holly�s breasts, fondling the fleshy orbs, tweaking the tips of her nipples, giving each a gentle tug, the tits growing more full under Miriam�s caress. Holly emits a distracted chirp as she continues to try and shake the cobwebs free, but all lack of clarity is gone in an instant as Gaiman turns her feathery touch into one of squeezing, squashing talons. Sinking dual breast claws into Holly's abundance, the redhead puts the malleable meat through her own grinder; twisting, turning, flattening - as best she can - and digging into the flesh. Holly wails in protest, trying to pry Miriam�s hands free, but to no avail. Shock waves of pain send her body into tremors as the flesh of her bosom fills the gaps between Miriam�s compressing fingers like a delectable putty.

And just as Holly feels the anguish to be reaching the point of overwhelming her, Miriam�s digits release and begin traveling across her sweat-slickened skin like a pair of fragile spiders, one up her body, one down. The release from the breast claws is glorious beyond words, but her head still shakes out a �no�, realizing Miriam�s mind is fast at work.

The redhead�s �five-legged friends� settle on Holly�s chin and belly, resting but for a moment, before tucking into their new tasks, a curdling combo of mandible and stomach claws. Holly gurgles as Gaiman�s fingers sink into her maw and dig into her tenderized tummy. The tawny, auburn-haired lovely flails for a few precious moments, but cannot escape and falls still at Miriam�s side, the S&M specialist clearly disappointed for the first time in the match.

The ref, trying to end his portion of the festivities, if nothing else, slides down next to the pair. He is about to grab Holly�s arm for a lift-and-drop 3-count, but a growl from Miriam stops him in his tracks.

�I�ll tell you when you can count,� she hisses.

Gaiman slides atop Holly�s gently heaving mounds and rolls her over, the contrast of melanin in their skin eye-catching. She climbs atop Holly�s back, her immodestly-covered perky plums pushing into Hotbody�s shoulderblades, the open tract of skin that made up nearly the rest of her torso, soft and sticky against the remainder of Holly�s back. The tactile sensation of a fallen foe beneath her, though delightful to Miriam, was not enough. Holly had to feel, in whatever miniscule way she could at this point, �The Face of Death�, Gaiman�s crossface finisher.

But as Miriam reaches forward to slap it on, her face turns from one of sweet satisfaction to astonishment. In rolling Holly over to perform the coupe de grace, she had brought Hotbody within arm�s reach of the ropes and Holly, still with some wits about her, far more than Miriam had realized, snatches the opportunity.

�OFF. NOW,� the ref screams at Miriam, perhaps peeved at the redhead for extending this match in trying to extend Holly�s misery.

Miriam disregards the zebra�s whinny, applying the Face of Death to Holly, the auburn-haired beauty resuscitated to full consciousness by the bolts of anguish that spread like electricity through her back and neck.

�ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR.�

Not waiting for Miriam to release just before his five-count, FAWN�s appointed arbiter steps in, breaking the hold, pulling Miriam to her feet, and pushing her to the opposite side of the ring.

�I don�t care how crazy you are or you pretend to be. You will listen to me.�

Miriam smiles at the man, barely taller than her, if thirty to forty pounds more beefy, gray brushed back from his temples.

�For some reason, you think you�re part of this show�� Miriam notes calmly.

�I�m trying to do my job and see that you do yours within the rules. God knows we don�t expect much from you girls regarding that,� the ref interrupts.

Miriam continues like the man hadn�t said a word.

��and so I guess you are now.�

With shocking speed, against which the man couldn�t possibly defend, Miriam sends a stockinged foot between his pant legs, landing square in his package. The ref instantly doubles over and lurches forward, his face turning pink with certain nauseous overtones. But instead of something coming out of his mouth, Miriam sends something in, providing the ref with firsthand knowledge of her lethal mandible claw. Inside a split-second, the man is flailing within the redhead�s grasp, but the pain from his crotch dreadfully reduces the effort and all too quickly his arms fall to his side, his baby blues rolling back in his head. It is Miriam alone that keeps him upright, the man unconscious in her embrace. Quickly bored, she lets him drop to the canvas like a black-and-white sack of potatoes.

�Face of Death time for someone I know,� Miriam gleefully sing-songs, turning to find Holly.

But the topless battler is already charging toward her, planting a running spin kick into her flawless features, Gaiman toppling to the mat next to the recently dispatched official.

Almost immediately, Holly wearily lifts a squirming Miriam to her feet, pulls her forward into a locking grasp and buries her head in the canvas with a double-arm DDT. Miriam�s body spasms and falls still, the redhead on her face, legs spread wide, arms upturned at her side.

Holly slaps her on the top of the head.

�That is how you finish a job.�

She rises unsteadily and tends to the ref, shaking him and tapping his face lightly. Miriam had done her job far too well on this guy. He probably wouldn�t be around till tomorrow. Gently, she lays him back to the mat and turns to the ramp.

�Get me another one down here,� Holly shouts, waving wildly, her breasts heaving to and fro. She turns to Miriam who stirs, if only lightly.

�Damn it, hurry the hell up.�

There is a disturbance at the upper stage and then another zebra clambers down the ramp, this one a full-sized variety with glasses and a ponytail.

�Where do they get these guys,� Holly mumbles, even as she moves to the nearest set of buckles to Mir.

A mixture of relief and dread fill Holly as she leaps to the top buckle, steadies, and readies for another 360 splash. Even as she vaults through her flight plan, a little voice in the back of her head pleads that the redhead not have yet another counter up her non-existent sleeve.

SHE DOES�NOT.

A mildly rocking Miriam can manage nothing to protect herself, Holly landing heavily across the redhead�s midriff, ribs, and breasts. Miriam�s pale, slick body jackknifes in a spasm around Holly�s form, then settles like a soft gelatinous tapioca beneath her.

The replacement ref slides under the ropes in a rare moment of perfect timing by a FAWN adjudicator.

ONE

TWO

Before the hand can fall for the third and final time, the younger ref is pulled from whence he came by a yank of his ankle, one Ivy Belle Armstrong, in black halter and faded jeans, showing enormous strength to get the man moving without his own accord.

�There�s no way yur endin� this here match,� Ivy informs. � You ain�t supposed to be out here, so get back to the pen they keep you guys in.�

�Miss Armstrong, Bethany Christian sent me, so I�d advise��

As the �new� ref and Ivy continue to debate, Holly slaps the mat three times in disgust. This was unbelievable.

Holly stays pressed against Miriam. There was no way she was giving her up. Still, her attention turns to the raging argument and�HEY� the stunning blue-eyed blonde now standing behind Ivy in a gold bandeau top and khaki shorts. A smirk creases her lips.

Sandra St. James taps Ivy on the shoulder and the unsuspecting Armstrong turns into a perfectly-placed pump to her solar plexus, doubling the Southern Charmer over.

�WILL you shut up and let this man do his job?� Sandra shouts over the blaring din of the detonating crowd. Reaching forward, she captures Ivy�s drooping head and plants it to the base of the steel grating that starts the ramp on its upward trek. She roughly pushes Ivy to her back. Satisfied that the interloper is out cold, the blonde cheerfully motions Holly, who has already been joined in the ring by the fresh ref, to do her thing.

Holly pulls Miriam to her feet and obliges her friend, hitting a perfect Hot Spot stunner on the pale beauty. Hotbody turns her foe to her back and hooks a leg, pulling Miriam�s knee to her chin.

ONE

TWO

THREE.

Ecstatic at both surviving and defeating her napping adversary, Holly leaps off the mat and motions for Sandra to join her, the PA making things official as the blonde slides under the bottom rope.

�YOUR WINNER�HAWWWLLLY HAWWWTBAWWWDY.�

Sandra pushes the initial, still snoozing, ref out of the way of the celebration with a shove from a sculptured gam, the man�s face rolling atop Miriam�s vinyl-encased crotch. Sandra felt somewhat guilty, for he would surely pay for that somehow, but at the moment all she and Holly could do was laugh.

Slapping her friend on the back, Sandra sends Holly for her curtain call. The auburn-haired beauty mounts the second turnbuckle and performs a sexy shimmy, running her hands seductively across her body as the crowd cheers, no sense of discomfort registering over her state of topside undress. Dropping back to the mat, she embraces Sandra under a torrent of applause. Disengaging from the blonde beauty, Holly winks and blows kisses to the fans before sauntering out of the ring and up the ramp, shoulder to shoulder with Sandra.