Following the briefest of interludes to allow the ringside crew to clean the ring and prepare it for the next match, the FAWNtron comes to life once again. The nebulous, swirling patterns that had graced the screen soon transform into the smugly smiling visage of Bethany Christian, the appearance of the boss causing another raucous chorus of boos from the assembled fans.

The look of satisfaction remains firmly plastered across Christian�s beautiful features, the CEO allowing the crowd to get every ounce of their disdain and contempt out of their systems. Once things die down, Bethany finally speaks.

�Score one for the young wolves,� the brunette notes dryly, prompting another wave of jeers and catcalls. �Up next, we have a pair of lions gong into battle, one young, one� not so young. But, before we get to them, I want to say a few words about one of my least favorite,� Bethany pauses, before placing a little extra emphasis on the next word, �subjects: Jeanette Lansdale.�

The boo birds immediately change their tune.

�As the more attentive of you might have worked out by now, I have a few issues with Jeanette. And I�ve tried to find ways of taking care of them. But each time, someone lets me down. First it was Portia VanBuren, then Cricket Munro and Demetria Andrews together. And then, one of the women you�re about to see next, the Killer Imp herself, the ONE woman in FAWN I thought I could most rely on to kick Jeanette�s ass like she had every other time out, goes and screws the pooch. It doesn�t look like I can win, does it?�

For once, the crowd seems to agree with Bethany on that point. Christian merely sighs.

�I guess I have no choice, then,� the brunette says, her voice sounding almost sad. �It�s been said that a wise woman knows when to accept defeat. But do you know what else they say?�

Bethany�s expression changes from wistful to intense.

�If you want a job done properly��

Instantly, the crowd erupts as they grasp exactly what the boss is saying.

�Next week, for one night only, I will come out of retirement to personally take Jeanette Lansdale on a one way trip straight to hell. So be sure not to miss it, people. And now� on with the show!�

Bethany�s voice is quickly replaced by the sound of a dance remix of the Queen classic �Another One Bites the Dust�, and only moments after that, FAWN is graced with the presence of its newest superstar, Daniella Bryce. The statuesque blonde stands at the top of the ramp for a moment, beaming as the crowd gives her a healthy reception. A few had certainly seen her in action, and others still at least new of her. But for those that didn�t, her striking good looks ensured that she made a pretty good first impression. And those striking looks are showcased masterfully by a purple tank top that displays her toned midriff and matching hot pants that reveal as much of her impossibly long legs as anyone could possibly hope for.

Bryce saunters down to the ring, taking plenty of time to mingle with the fans on both sides of the aisle as she did so. Whatever she thought of the talent of the FAWN roster, Bryce had seen and heard enough to know the reputation that the promotion�s fans had: as some of the loudest, most dedicated and most supportive in the whole industry. And Daniella had not become one of the most beloved wrestlers in the international scene without learning how to work a crowd.

Reaching the ring, Bryce climbs onto the apron. Turning her back to the ropes, she leans against the steel cables, her arms draped across the top strand as she flashes the crowd her warmest smile. Then, turning away from the ropes, she advances toward the nearest corner, climbing to the middle rope and extending both arms into the air to an enthusiastic pop.

Hopping down, she slips between the ropes, lightly bouncing on her feet as she drifts toward the center of the ring.

The lights dim, a hush falling over the crowd, then Van Halen's "Beautiful Girls" erupts from the sound system, the unmistakable sound of Eddie Van Halen's signature guitar intro bursting into the arena. Precisely as the drum roll thunders in, a shower of sparks explodes from above, showering the entire arena in momentarily blinding light. Finally, as the rest of the band joins in, two flares go off on either side of the entry way at the top of the aisle and Chrissy Daniel, the Killer Imp, steps onto the ramp. There's a trace of erotic playfulness in her step, as her full, luscious lips curl into a mischievous smile. Her voluptuous body is on display as usual, with her full breasts covered by a black leather bikini top with small chrome studs. A matching black leather thong bestows on the crowd a look at one of the roundest asses on the planet. Black boots round out the Killer Imp's ensemble.

She strolls seductively down the rest of the aisle, her big chest bouncing, the crowd buzzing, as the nubile hellion makes her way down to the ring. The former FAWN champion gyrates slowly, the Cheshire grin still on her face. Egging the crowd on with her sexy body crackling with energy, she makes her way to the ring. She slowly climbs the stairs, allowing the crowd to take her in... a nice serving of sex garnished with some hateful glee, the aroma of violence filling the air. Standing mid-ring, she flips her thick lustrous hair back over her head, bouncing provocatively, shadowboxing a couple punches, big chest bouncing satisfyingly.

Mounting the bottom rope in her corner, she raises her arms. With a smile that would turn the knees of the devil himself into water, she steps down from the ropes, setting her large rack jiggling in the tight skimpy bikini top. As the music dies down, she settles back into her corner, her plushly sexy body hiding all the lust and havoc that could fit into such a small frame.

The referee summons the two combatants to the middle of the ring for his opening instructions, not that either paid him any attention. Both women had been in several matches in several promotions, each having claimed more than her fair share of success and glory. Daniella and Chrissy stand toe to toe, the eyes of each drilling into the soul of the other. And despite the substantial differential in their height, the Killer Imp fails to show even the slightest trace of intimidation.

The official instructs them back to their corners to wait for the bell, but Daniella has some parting words before she complies. �You may have looked good here against some snot nosed kids and overglorified strippers,� se whispers with a look of supreme confidence, �but you�re entering a whole new league facing me. For your sake, I hope you�re ready.�

Chrissy is hardly rattled, laughing off the comment dismissively. �In case you haven�t been paying attention, beanpole,� the Killer Imp replies, �I�ve got a pretty good track record when it comes to making Brits my bitches. You won�t be any different. Just� taller.�

A couple of moments later, the bell sounds, bringing both women out of their corners. Meeting in the center of the ring, they lock up, straining against each other for control. It is hardly surprising when Bryce begins to back Chrissy into a corner, although those few unfamiliar with Daniel�such as Bryce herself, perhaps�might have been surprised with just how challenging Chrissy makes her quest. But finally, their journey reaches an end, Daniella shoving Chrissy�s back firmly into the buckles, forcing the ash blonde�s head back as she does so. But this lasts only a moment, as the ref quickly steps in to order a break. Bryce complies, arms raised in innocence, and achieving a smattering of polite applause from the crowd for her show of sportsmanship: not the most common trait in this particular arena.

Backing into the center of the ring once again, Bryce flashes Daniel a satisfied wink before signaling Chrissy to join her. With a decidedly malicious wink of her own, the Killer Imp accepts the invitation, the two women locking up once again.

Had Daniella been surprised by Chrissy�s resistance to her earlier, she suddenly finds herself flat out stunned as she is forced to take one, then two, and then three steps backward. She knew Chrissy was strong for her size, but this was taking the cake. Try as she might, Daniella only succeeds in momentarily halting her forced retreat. Each time she managed to apply the breaks, however, Chrissy manages just a little more power to force her backward, until she meets the same fate Chrissy had moments ago.

As the Killer Imp�s left forearm presses against Daniella�s chest, her right palm shoves under Bryce�s chin, Chrissy pouring all 118 pounds of her sinful frame into her efforts. Again, the ref swiftly and dutifully intercedes, calling for a break. Again, his instructions are met with compliance, Daniel stepping back with raised arms of her own. For just a split second, Bryce relaxes�

�and that split second proves all that the Imp needs, as Chrissy thrusts her fingers practically through Daniella�s windpipe.

Daniella�s long left leg lifts off the mat, her upper body pitching forward as Chrissy�s dirty trick leaves her wheezing for air. The ash blonde takes full advantage of that, wasting no time in pivoting away from the platinum blonde, tucking Daniella�s head under her right arm. A few strides later, Chrissy�s shapely backside lands on the mat just before Bryce�s face slams into the unyielding canvas.

�Correction, putz,� Chrissy spits over her shoulder. �I haven�t moved up to a whole new league. You�ve stepped into mine. And you�re way over your inflated head.�

Back on her feet in almost the blink of an eye, the Killer Imp straddles the Brit�s back, one foot under each of Bryce�s arms. Settling into a crouch over her foe, Daniel lifts Daniella�s upper body off the mat, draping each of Bryce�s arms over one of Chrissy�s corresponding thighs. She completes the camel clutch by reaching for the blonde�s face, but rather than cupping her chin, her fingers slide inside Daniella�s mouth.

Bryce shrieks back to life, wailing as Chrissy�s talons tug and pull at the corners of her mouth, trying to widen her maw to unnatural proportions. But those piercing screams prove to be only the beginning. The Killer Imp manages to pull Daniella�s head back enough that she can almost look down directly into her captive�s eyes. And then Chrissy leans forward, clamping her teeth into the soft flesh of Bryce�s forehead.

Once more, the official interjects himself into the match. �Alright, Daniella, you want to give it up?�

�Yeah, Daniella?� Chrissy asks mockingly, bringing a merciful end to at least one front of her assault. �You wanna give it up? Not that you�re gonna have a choice, putz. I�m gonna MAKE you give it up. More than you even realize.�

Daniella shakes her head as much as Chrissy�s grasp will allow, crying out an emphatic�if somewhat garbled�refusal. Her FAWN career was only a handful of minutes old. There was no way she would allow herself to submit so soon.

Chrissy leans her head forward, her mouth centimeters from Daniella�s ear. �I was hoping you�d say that, blondie,� Daniel whispers with soft venom. �Because I�m just getting warmed up.�

With that, the Imp violently shoves Daniella away, sending Bryce crashing to the mat face first with a jarring thud. Chrissy follows quickly behind her, landing a crisp elbow to the back of Bryce�s head, causing the statuesque blonds to spasm before falling still.

Daniel rolls over onto her hands and knees, crawling to mount her rival�s back, taking a seat just under her shoulder blades, facing Bryce�s legs. Chuckling with an unnerving, almost childlike mirth, the Killer Imp slips her fingers inside the waistband of Bryce�s purple hot pants, finding a second�and far more slender�waistband underneath.

�Well lookie what I found!�

Chrissy then proceeds to show the fans exactly what she has found, pulling the black thong into view with a savage yank that causes an agonized wail from the stirring Brit, Daniella�s legs thrashing in a fruitless effort to ease the pressure on her womanhood.

The crowd seems an almost evenly split, the boo birds only just managing to drown out the jeering laugh of those enjoying Chrissy�s display. Though Chrissy had little regard for the fans, and even less for the rules and fair play, she was not without a sizable contingent of followers.

Eventually, the official begins his count.

ONE�

TWO�

THREE�

FOUR�

With a pout, the ash blonde releases the fabric, and Daniella exhales in sharp relief. Alas, for Bryce, the relief is only short lived, and the wedgie proves to have only been a precursor for what was to come. Chrissy holds her right hand aloft for just a moment, fingers formed in the shape of a claw, before sending those fingers tearing into Bryce�s crotch.

Daniella shrieks anew, her still throbbing sex exploding a new wave of agony, her hot pants offering scant protection. And after a moment, a new sensation joins the excruciating pain radiating from between her legs outward: panic, as she fails to hear the ref come to her rescue a second time. In every other fed she had worked, a crotch claw would have been cause for a disqualification. But in fawn, the crotch claw was a perfectly legal submission move. And Daniella had to find a way to escape, and do so quickly.

�Aggggggghhhhhhh, nooooooooooooooo,� Bryce groans through gritting teeth, her arms and legs straining in an effort to find the ropes, but coming up empty.

Chrissy looks up from her handiwork, noticing the platinum blonde�s flailing limbs. �Please,� the ash blonde scoffs. �I learned not to do these things too close to the ropes back in Ass-Kicking 101. But I�m starting to think you missed that class� until now.�

Daniella�s resistance continues to amount to little more than anguished mewls and moans, but to her credit, she does not whimper, does not sob, and does not plead. Even Chrissy seems a little impressed by her foe�s resolve� though it only appears to make her eager to do more.

Releasing the crotch claw, Chrissy Daniel rises to her feet, pulling Daniella up with her by a full handful of blonde locks. The Imp backs Daniella�s flagging body into a corner, and then takes hold of Bryce�s wrist. Sending the leggy blonde across the ring, Daniella crashes hard, back first into the opposite corner.

Seconds later, Daniella finds herself the filling in a Bryce Sandwich, Chrissy�s diminutive, power packed frame splashing against her. Daniella�s knees buckle as her arms flop over the top rope, Chrissy continuing to apply pressure to Bryce by pressing herself against the platinum blonde.

For a brief moment, the difference in their height takes on comedic undertones as Chrissy finds herself getting an eyeful of Daniella�s modest B cups. �Mosquito problems in Wales, blondie?� Chrissy taunts, and then starts climbing the ropes in front of the ailing blonde. With her feet planted on the middle cable, Bryce�s head lolls forward, coming to rest atop one of the Killer Imp�s impressive D cups. With a smirk, Daniel shoves Bryce�s head back, looking down into the blonde�s glassy eyes.

�Patience,� the Imp purrs. �You�ll be introduced soon enough.�

Chrissy raises her right arm into the air, making a dramatic show of clinching her fist, and allowing the crowd to grasp what she is about to do. And then, as one�both Chrissy lovers and haters�begin to count as Daniel starts landing punches.

�ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!�

But before they can reach seven, Daniella�s arms wrap around Chrissy�s thighs, lifting her from her perch. The crowd roars�some in surprise, others in delight�as Bryce takes a couple of unsteady strides out of the corner, carrying the Killer Imp along with her. Still, Chrissy fires away with her punches, with increased urgency. And perhaps they even hastened Daniella�s fall to the mat.

But unfortunately for Chrissy, Daniella only falls to one knee, sending Chrissy down harshly, crotch first, across her outstretched thigh. The ash blonde bounces away from the atomic drop on tippy toes, but Daniella doesn�t let her get too far away. Willing herself back to her feet, Bryce continues her offensive, scooping the Imp into her arms and holding Daniel pressed against her chest. Then, pivoting on one heel, Daniella sends her back to the canvas with a powerslam, coming to rest atop Chrissy�s ample chest and reaching to hook a leg.

ONE�

Strong kickout.

Bryce wipes a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes before getting back to her feet, helping Chrissy up with her. Bryce Irish whips the ash blonde into the ropes, ducking to deliver a backdrop. Chrissy has other ideas, however, as she leapfrogs her foe. Yet on her next rebound, she can find no escape as Daniella�s fingers wrap tightly around her throat.

Placing her left palm flat between Chrissy�s shoulder blades to steady her opponent, Bryce hoists the Killer Imp heavenward, holding Chrissy�s kicking and clawing form well over her head for roughly five seconds.

And then she THROWS back Chrissy to the mat with as much force as her battered frame can muster.

Daniel�s body bounces on impact, the back of her skull cracking off the canvas before she comes to rest, the gentle heave of her plentiful bounty her only signs of life. Slipping a blue boot under Chrissy�s back, Bryce rolls Daniel onto her stomach, and then steps on the back of the Imp�s thighs. Hooking the ash blonde�s feet around her calves, Daniella�s bends over. Dual slaps to each of Chrissy�s flanks cause her arms to jerk, and Daniella swiftly gets a firm grip on her wrists.

And then Daniella rocks backwards, raising Chrissy off the mat in the process, trapped in a ceiling hold.

Chrissy suddenly comes around, groaning in agony as Bryce�s longer than long legs and correspondingly impressive wingspan serve to make this particular torture technique even more effective. Chrissy shakes her head, her thick ash blonde hair flying wildly as the hold arches her back, and sends her breasts peaking even further skyward. But like Daniella earlier, Chrissy shows amazing restraint in refusing to give voice to her anguish.

�What do you say, Chrissy?� the ref asks. �You want to submit?�

Though her pain is etched on her cherubic features, and drips from her hoarse voice, her defiance remains plain. �You want me to pull your intestines out through your mouth, you fuckin� zebra?�

�Now, now,� Daniella chides her captive, flexing her legs and bringing another reluctant yelp from Chrissy�s lips. �Where are your manners, little girl?�

The hold was inescapable. All Daniella had to do was keep Chrissy ensnared in it long enough, and the Imp would have no choice other than to submit. But supporting her victim�s full weight was proving taxing, and Daniel herself was proving to be as stubborn as a mule. Daniella soon realizes that she wouldn�t be able to keep Chrissy trapped all night. The only question was could she keep her trapped long enough to wring a submission out of her.

A few moments later, she has her answer. And sadly, it is not the answer she was hoping for.

The strain growing too much for her own aching muscles, Daniella releases the ceiling hold, sending the ash blonde face first to the mat in a limp, sweaty heap. Rolling Daniel over, Bryce goes for another cover, hooking Chrissy�s right leg.

ONE�

TWO�

TH� kickout.

Daniella strikes the mat with her palms, her frustration showing, yet she also finds herself begrudgingly tipping her cap to her rival. She was tougher than Bryce had given her credit for. But Daniella had firmly established control. The end was only a matter of time now.

Climbing to her feet, Daniella pulls Chrissy up, and with practiced skill entwines her legs with Chrissy�s, snaking an arm around the Imp�s neck and trapping her in an abdominal stretch. Already tenderized from the ceiling hold, Chrissy�s back and stomach muscles are engulfed in pain once more, and the first crack appears in her armor: a half-swallowed squeal, and if Bryce had heard correctly, a choked off sob.

But she still does not submit. Indeed, she manages to do something that Daniella had been unable to do earlier, as her fingers wrap around the middle rope.

Daniella curses herself, the fifteen year veteran disgusted with herself for such a rookie mistake. Releasing the stretch, Daniella guides a stumbling Imp away from the sanctuary of the cables, ready to deny her that escape a second time as she hoists Chrissy up for a torture rack.

However, showing some of the resilience she had become famous for, Chrissy slips out the back door, landing on her feet behind Daniella. She winces as her landing sends a shockwave through her tortured back and stomach, but she ignores the pain as Bryce turns around, and in a blur of motion, her fingernails tear across Daniella�s eyes.

Bryce shrieks in pain, her hands flying to her face, and leaving torso open for the uppercut that plows up between the platinum blonde�s slightly parted legs, and drops Bryce to her knees.

Chrissy follows up with a swift, powerful boot to the midsection that forces Bryce forward, her right arm keeping her kneeling and preventing her from collapsing completely. With each passing second feeling more and more her confident, dominant self, the Killer Imp circles behind her prey. Quickly, she rips Daniella�s tank top from her body, the fabric tearing loudly before the ash blonde fashions the ruined garment into a single strand. Then, hooking it over Bryce�s head, Chrissy pulls back, intent on choking the life out of the platinum blonde jetsetter, and snuffing out her FAWN career at birth.

Daniella�s eyes bulge, her fingers frantically trying to slip under her former top, but Chrissy allows no slack. None, that is, other than the growing slackness of Daniella�s jaw, Bryce�s mouth gaping open for breath as her arms begin to plummet to her sides.

Still choking her opponent, Chrissy pulls Bryce onto once powerful legs that now trembled and quivered just to keep her upright. Smirking, the Killer Imp can smell her impending triumph. Only as she scoops Bryce into her arms does she allow the tattered and torn top to fall to the mat. Deftly maneuvering Daniella into position for an inverted tombstone, Chrissy then drops to her knees, slamming the crown of Bryce�s skull into the mat.

Unwrapping her arms from around Bryce�s waist, she allows the platinum blonde to tumble lifelessly to the mat. With a quick shimmy of her hips, Chrissy gives Daniella a proper welcome to the world of FAWN, settling herself in a seat astride the blonde�s face. The ref slides down beside them to administer the academic count.

ONE�

TWO�

THRE� shoulder up.

Neither the crowd, the ref, nor indeed the bucked off Chrissy Daniel could believe it. How had the bitch found the stamina or wherewithal to escape what had to have been an unfamiliar position for the pro veteran? No matter, Chrissy thought as Daniella weakly rolled onto her stomach. She was only buying herself a bigger ass kicking.

�Speaking of kicking�� Chrissy whispers to herself, rising from the canvas. Backing up a couple of strides to get a good running start, the Killer Imp unloads with a kick to Daniella�s groin that lifts the blonde a good foot or two off the canvas. Bryce lands on her knees, her bare chest pressed to the canvas as her hands seek to sooth the burning anguish between her legs, moisture welling in the corners of the platinum blonde�s eyes.

�They always cry in the end.�

With a loud heave, the Killer Imp hoists Daniella up over her shoulder, and carries her into the nearest corner. After another mighty and audible effort, Chrissy sits the blonde on the top turnbuckle, and begins to climb the corner as well. The crowd is electric, some urging Bryce to recover, but most now eagerly anticipating another victim succumbing to the Daniel Death.

With a foot on either side of Daniella on the top rope, Chrissy pulls Bryce into a side headlock. But before she can continue, a sudden uppercut to the gut buckles her knees. A second, stronger punch causes Daniel to sag against her foe, Bryce having to steady herself to keep both of them from tumbling to the concrete floor below.

Getting her feet under her, Daniella climbs up to the top rope herself. With both women balancing on the steel cable, Bryce tucks the Killer Imp�s head under her arm, grabbing a handful of tights, preparing for a front layout superplex. �You gave me a stiffer fight than I thought,� Daniella whispers. �I�ll give you that much.� Pulling on Chrissy�s bottoms, Bryce hoists upward.

�Your attitude still sucks, though.�

Daniella�s eyes widen in momentary shock as Chrissy blocks her. A second effort meets the same fate. Putting a little extra �oomph!� into the third, Daniella feels Chrissy rising into position�

�but she never sees the knee to the groin coming.

As Daniella�s knees buckle, Chrissy shifts her weight, and the two sail toward the mat. Chrissy lands on her back, Bryce on her head, the end result more or less what Chrissy had intended all along: the Daniel Death, albeit from even greater elevation than normal.

Though winded from the fall, Chrissy is in clearly better shape than the motionless, spread-eagled Daniella. Ignoring her own pain, Chrissy sits up, taking but a moment to undo her studded bikini top.

The crowd roars in delight, and Chrissy responds with a playful look of reproach.

Rolling Bryce�s insensate body over onto her back, Chrissy kneels just over Daniella�s head. But she doesn�t press her offensive. Instead, with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, the Killer Imp reaches forward, her fingertips delicately tracing and caressing Bryce�s nipples, trailing from left to right in leisurely figure 8�s, until the buds begin to harden, a soft gasp of a mewl puffing from between the platinum blonde�s lips.

And only then did Chrissy Daniel lower her breasts upon Daniella�s face.

Bryce�s legs can only manage to feebly kick, her arms little more than slapping at the Killer Imp�s arms as Chrissy�s moist bosom robs her of her oxygen and what minimal strength she had left. All too soon, even that pitiful amount of resistance ceases as Bryce�s limbs melt into the canvas.

�Oh ref?� Chrissy calls in sing-song fashion to the official, without bothering to rise from her prey. �Check her please, if you�d be so kind.�

Nodding dumbly, the official drops to his knees, lifting Daniella�s lifeless right arm once�

Twice�

Thrice.

DING! DING! DING!

Only once the bell sounds does Chrissy release Daniella�s slumbering face from its fleshy prison, a tiny sliver of saliva running down the platinum blonde�s cheek. The Killer Imp remains on her knees, resting on her haunches, with her hands on her hips. She was tired. She was bruised. And she had been through hell.

But she had also made her point. The women of FAWN were no joke, and herself least of all.

WINNER: Chrissy Daniel