So here it is, finally. The showdown between the #1 FAWN contender and the last BRA and current European champion. All of FAWN has been buzzing about this match. Chrissy has taken the "pride of FAWN" mantle for this match, promising to send the limey 'fraud champ' packing back where she came from, tail between her legs. This is FAWN and no bitch outsider is going to show her up. For her part, Cassie is confident that she has the skills and experience to defeat the Yankee upstart. Chubby bullies like Chrissy just need to be put in their place, and she was just the person to do it! Has Chrissy bitten off more than she can chew in the cherubic champ? Can Cassie handle the onslaught of the Killer Imp? We're about to find out as the war of words culminates in the showdown between Cassie Hopkins and Chrissy Daniel, the innocent versus 'anything but'.

The lights dim, a hush falls over the crowd, but there is the unmistakable electrical buzz of excitement coursing through the spectators. Then, Van Halen's "Beautiful Girls" erupts from the sound system, the unmistakable sound of Eddie Van Halen's signature riff tearing through the air. Precisely as the drum roll thunders in, a shower of sparks explodes from above, showering the entire arena in momentarily blinding light. Then, at the top of the ramp, Chrissy Daniel appears; hands on her hips, she turns her head to scan the crowd, the corners of her mouth upturned into a smugly mischievous smile. She then struts down toward the ring, hips swiveling with every self-assured step. She is clad in a black pleather bikini top, boycut red pleather hipster bikini briefs, and black ankle boots, with her wrists taped up in red. She is not wearing her tag team title belt, preferring to appear 'the underdog' to the European champion, who will surely enter with HER belt.

The voluptuous hellion makes her way into the ring, all eyes on her, Chrissy taking the stairs slowly so as to savor the moment. She slips through the ropes in a manner that's almost seductive, the red pleather caressing her succulent ass like a loving glove. She flips her lustrous hair back with her hand, then shadow boxes a couple of punches as she heads to her corner, setting her voluptuous assets a dance, to the delight of the crowd.

Mounting the middle ropes on either side of the ringpost and looking out at the throng of spectators, she raises her arms in a sign of impending victory, the waves of cheers cascading over her. She then jumps down and turns to face the ring, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet from the crackling energy of her dynamo body. The Killer Imp is in the house, and woe to all who oppose her!

As David Bowie's "New Killer Star" plays over the sound system, Cassie Hopkins enters the arena, clad in a baby blue sports bra, matching biker shorts, white boots, and the Royal Wrestling Association championship belt slung over her right shoulder. Making her way to the ring, she receives a warm recpetion, both from those won over by her charms and those who remember her from her tenure in Battling Ring Angels. Reaching the ring, she hops onto the apron, and then slips through the ropes and into the ring, taking a few moments to stretch in her corner before the start of the match.

The two women close on each other slowly, a swagger in the Imp's stride. Her face is adorned with its cherubic smirk as always. "Nice of you to bring your little bauble, peroxide head. It'll give me something to wipe my ass with before I shove it up yours."

Cassie glares back in reply. "You'll be singin' a dif'rent tune when I embarrass you, you roly poly little m'nchkin. The RWA tit'le is nothin' to be sneered at."

"RWA... that stand for Retarded Worthless Asswipes?" Chrissy mocks, smirking. "I hope Shea gave you a preview of things to come."

"Shut up and wrestle, Chrissy," the referee lectures as he watches the two.

Chrissy glances sideways at him. "Shove it, zebra boy. I just want to make sure poor little crumpet sucker knows what she's in for."

Quick as a flash, Cassie takes advantage of Chrissy's momentary distraction to lunge toward her. Momentarily they lock up, and quickly Cassie secures the Imp in a standing side headlock, pulling her head into the crook of her left elbow, securing her grip and squeezing hard. Chrissy twists at her side, right hand pawing Cassie's right hip, left tugging at the arm, slapping at the taller blonde's belly, to no avail. Taking a different tack, her right hand reaches up the blonde's back, aiming for some hair to pull. Managing to grab a handful of blonde tresses, Chrissy starts to tug. Cassie grimaces, tightening the vise on the Imp's head, educing fresh writhing from her captive, Daniel's curvy body squirming at her side, her hair-pull yanking harder. Head pulled back, Cassie suddenly twists her body, pulling the Imp unwillingly over her hip and hip-tossing her down to the mat with a thud, Chrissy's breasts cushioning the Brit's landing, Chrissy's breath exiting with a "huhhhh", headlock still in place. Both prone on the mat, Cassie continues to work the headlock, grinding Chrissy's head mercilessly. Hopkins grins. "I thought y' was short before, porky, but this is redic'lous." She emphasizes her jibe with a fresh grind of the Imp's head, eliciting a groan.

Chrissy kicks the mat in frustration. Left arm pinned to the canvas beneath her opponent, she starts searching the blonde for an opening with her right. Knowing her options are limited in her current position, she again grabs the first thing she can find - hair. Twisting her wrist around, she wraps a handful around her fist and yanks!

"Ssssssssssss," Cassie hisses as her head is suddenly yanked back violently. Fighting the pain, she ups the ante, working the headlock harder. The standoff lasts a few moments, with Chrissy realizing this is not going to gain her freedom, letting go of the blonde's hair. Instead, she arches her back, thighs powering her ass off the mat, trying to twist in Cassie's grip. Cassie shifts position, trying to constantly maintain the maximum pressure on the beach cat's squash. Feeling Cassie committing to a different pressure angle, Chrissy suddenly torques her torso and hips, twisting enough to get her knees under her, but wrenching her neck in the process, her head held in place. Hissing in pain, she manages to wrap her arm around Cassie's waist, improving her position from prone to just barely kneeling. Hopkins continues to work the headlock, rising to her knees as well. Another grind and Chrissy shudders, momentarily dipping toward the canvas again. Catching herself, Daniel stabilizes and starts to slowly power herself up to a full kneeling position, Cassie locked on her head like a lamprey. Wrapping her right arm around Cassie's bare waist, she plunges a left into her unguarded belly. A second time her fist lands. Feeling her foe's grip weakening slightly, Chrissy slowly powers herself to one knee, then fully standing again. The British champion's eyes widen as she struggles to keep her adversary under control.

Chrissy pants with the effort of regaining her feet from that awkward prone position, left hand resting on her knee, right resting on Cassie's hip. Getting her breath again, Chrissy suddenly slides her right arm between Cassie's thighs, locking it in her left, wrapping up the blonde's left thigh. Flexing slightly, she powers the taller girl off the mat, leaning back slightly, Cassie still holding her head in the vise. Twisting, the Imp shifts, tilts and falls backward to the mat, bringing Cassie with her, slamming the surprised girl's head, neck and shoulders to the mat. Instantly her head pops free of the headlock and she slowly rolls out of danger, Cassie stunned on the mat, blinking.

Slowly, Chrissy gets to her knees, then falteringly to her feet, a little unsteady. Cassie is stirring on the mat a few feet away, her bell clearly rung by the impact of head and mat. As she starts to rise, Chrissy slogs over to her, helping her to her feet with a handful of hair.

"Ahhhhhhhh," Cassie protests as she is pulled unwillingly up. A quick torque of Daniel's body and she swipes her face with a meaty upper arm smash, snapping the blonde's head to the side in a hail of blonde tresses. Cassie drops to one knee, shaking her head. A European Uppercut sends the blonde staggering back toward the ropes, the angry Imp stamping in pursuit. Stunned, Cassie manages to immediately stop the advance planting her boot into soft belly, doubling the Imp over. Grabbing her foe's head in a front facelock, she drops to the mat, the Imp landing face first beneath her. Stunned, Chrissy lay on the mat, arms and legs splayed. She does not resist as she is brought back to her feet and again corralled into a front facelock. This time Cassie twists around, spinning both women back to back, then falls to her butt, bringing the back of the Imp's head down onto her shoulder and releasing. Chrissy's head bounces violently off her rival's shoulder, propping her momentarily into a sitting position before teetering back first onto the mat. Cassie quickly gathers her in and hooks the leg, getting a one count before Chrissy kicks out.

Cassie gets to her feet, pulling the stunned Imp with her. Flinging her into the ropes, Chrissy bounces off, back toward her opponent. Cassie extends her arm and nails the beach cat a hard clothesline, sending her back to the mat, hair flying and boobs bouncing. Standing, Cassie catches her breath as she watches the Imp regain her awareness and start to roll to her side. Grabbing her by the hair, Cassie smiles. "'Ere. Let me 'elp ya," dragging her upwards by her voluminous hair. Her smirk is short-lived however as Chrissy stops the proceedings with a punch to the stomach.

"Guhhhhh." A second fist stops things, Cassie releasing Chrissy's hair. Chrissy rams the top of her head into Cassie's gut, knocking her back into the ropes, Chrissy staggering after her. As the blonde's back hits the ropes, arms stretched out along the top strand, Chrissy attacks her face, tearing into the cherubically innocent countenance. Cassie yelps as her eyes are dug at and her face is mauled. Losing her concentration, she lashes out, catching the Imp square on the forehead with a punch. Chrissy staggers back a couple steps, then drops to one knee, as Cassie covers her face, free of Chrissy's clawing digits. Chrissy shakes her head to clear the momentary cobwebs, then smirks.

Getting back to her feet, Chrissy again dives at her foe, clawed fingers seeking out the tender flesh of her foe's almost childlike face. Cassie cries out, trying to pull the Imp's claws off her face. Chrissy grits her teeth, fighting to keep up the facial attack, eventually raking her fingers along the blonde's visage. Cassie shudders, dropping to one knee at the ropes. Chrissy pulls her to her feet, and whips her toward the opposite ropes. Hopkins bounces off but manages to hook the ropes with her arm at the last moment. Seeing Chrissy bent forward to toss her over her back to the mat, she again lets her boots to the talking, swinging a sweep kick across the Imp's face, snapping her head violently to the side. Staggered, Daniel is helpless to stop Cassie from hooking her arm around her head and, running to the ropes, the Imp in tow, springing off the ropes and flattening her with a springboard bulldog. Dropping an elbow on the back of her head for good measure, Cassie secures Chrissy's left arm between her thighs and, grimacing with effort, locks in a crippler crossface, pulling back on the Imp's head. Chrissy groans, slapping the mat in anger and pain with her fist.

The referee drops to his knees beside her. "You wanna give, Chrissy?"

"Bite me!" Chrissy grates between clenched teeth, the cries out anew as Cassie tightens the hold, pulling back even harder on her face.

"I think y' should take 'is advice, blimpy. It's only gonna get worse fer ya." Cassie grins even as she works the hold.

"Go... blow... a bulldog... bit-aaaaaahhhh-shit!" A fresh wave of pain hits her back and neck. "I'll never... submit to... you, limey."

Cassie smiles. "That's what ya' said to Shea, too, just b'fore y' whined like a baby."

Fire shines in Chrissy's eyes at the reference. Her arm had been broken and the loser-bitch was still trying to permanently injure her at the time. That would never happen again. Not to a crumpet sucker! Immediately Chrissy writhes like a mackerel on a ship's deck, trying to squirm free. Realizing she's not going to wring a submission out of Chrissy, at least not yet, Cassie releases the hold. Pulling the Imp to her feet by the hair, she starts to pull her head under her arm again when Chrissy suddenly powers her back first into the turnbuckle, driving them both across the ring with her powerful thighs. Slamming her into the padded buckles, Chrissy pulls her head free and punches her in the face.

Cassie, reeling from the blow, still manages to backhand slap Chrissy across the face. Momentarily stopped, Chrissy gets quickly scooped up into an inverted position and body slammed to the canvas. Slowly getting up, she is greeted with a drop kick to her hulking chest and impish face, sending her flying back into the ropes. Bouncing off in a hail of hair and jiggling boobs, she stumbles to her knees, shaking her head.

Smiling, Cassie backs up a few steps, then charges the kneeling former champion. Just before she reaches her, however, Chrissy shifts her body abruptly, extending her leg, and trips her. With a fluid motion, she shoves Cassie into the middle buckle. Cassie hits face and tits first, arms hanging over the ropes on either side of the buckle, eyes glazed, suspended and hanging in the corner, facing the post, stunned. Chrissy manages to get to her feet surprisingly quickly, closing on the hung-up Brit. Pushing her harder into the buckle, flattening her foe's chest into the padding, Chrissy holds her in place. Pinning her into the corner, she slowly reaches her hand down between the blonde's thighs, giving her crotch a gentle, playful rub through her boy cut bottoms.

Hearing Cassie's gasp of surprise, Chrissy smiles. "Surely Shea didn't forget to mention this?" She couldn't see the wide eyed expression of surprise and bewilderment on the blonde's face, but she didn't need to see it - she knew it was there. A couple more quick rubs and she pulled her out of the corner, turning her around and seeing the confusion she knew would be there.

Cassie shakes it off, going on the attack again. Back and forth the advantage flows, Cassie getting control momentarily by scientific means, Chrissy breaking out and reversing the momentum, punishing Cassie with painful holds, a few even legal. But each time she has the advantage, Chrissy makes sure she toys with the blonde - a crotch rub here, a tit squeeze or caress there, confusing her young opponent.

Cassie throws Chrissy into the ropes, setting up a scoop slam, which Chrissy foils by hooking the top rope with her arm. Angered with Chrissy's continuing defiance, she charges her at the ropes. Sidestepping at the last second, the Imp deftly slides Cassie's torso through the ropes and pulls back on her chin, bending her backwards over the top rope. Succulent breasts thrust out toward the crowd, straining the material of her baby blue sports bra, Cassie is tied up on the ropes, her arms resting on the top strand as the Imp bends her back over the rope painfully. One hand under her chin, pulling back as hard as possible, applying maximum pressure on her neck and upper back, Chrissy smiles as she hears Cassie groan. "Oh, it's only gonna get better, sweetcheeks." With her free hand, Chrissy reaches around her captive's torso and cups her right breast, giving it a tender caress. Cassie's body shakes in confusion. The Imp takes advantage of her foe's uncertainty, licking her ear and whispering into it. "How's that feel? Hmmmmmm? You like that, don't you? Of course you do."

Cassie's eyes are wide as she fights the first ripples of panic in her chest. This isn't right. "What are you... doing?" she breathes.

"Winning," comes the reply. "You can quit now and save yourself a lot of pain, or... " Chrissy leaves the implied alternative lingering in the air, squeezing the young blonde's breast for emphasis. As Cassie thrashes in the ropes, Chrissy's hand snakes down her foe's protruding, heaving belly slipping her thumb into the waist band of the blonde's bottoms. Cassie thrashes harder, quelled moments later by a wicked slap to the top of her heaving breasts. Chrissy releases her chin, letting Cassie fall forward, bent at the waist over the middle rope. Pulling back on the stunned blonde's legs, she pulls her back until the Brit's breasts are lying atop the rope. Chrissy grabs the rope with both hands and presses her torso down onto Cassie's back, flattening the blonde's boobs onto the rope. Cassie's arms gyrate wildly as her breasts are mashed into the unforgiving cable. Pumping her foe downward onto the ropes a few times, Chrissy again relents, a smirk on her face, pulling on the blonde's legs again until her neck is on the rope. Kneeling, she presses the UK champ's throat into the cable, gagging her now desperate blonde, Cassie's arms still hanging forward over the rope, useless in their flailing. Her eyes going glassy from pain and lack of air, Cassie tries to feebly fight the hold. Chrissy lets up on the pressure of the rope choke, walking to the middle of the ring, but only after a teasing caress of Cassie's crotch along the seam of her bike shorts.

Cassie hangs a moment longer on the ropes, then rolls off, holding her neck. Her anger at the Imp is a bit diffused however, due to the confusion she is experiencing. Glaring over at the Imp, she sees her standing in the middle of the ring, smiling, fists on hips, flipping her hair, not appearing to have a care in the world, much less be involved in a match with the British Champion. This angers Hopkins, and she gets to her feet using the ropes for assistance. Collecting herself, she charges Chrissy who waits calmly in center ring. Extending her arm, Cassie tries to clothesline her foe, but Daniel avoids it and catches the arm, swinging her foe around to face her and planting a knee in her crotch. Cassie drops to her knees as if shot, gasping for breath, both hands in her crotch. Chrissy chuckles. "Now you get the idea."

Hauling the agonized blonde roughly to her feet by her hair, she pulls her forward into a front headlock, tucking her head under her armpit. Instead of DDTing her into the mat though, Chrissy walks her backward around the ring. Playing to the crowd, she raises a fist and smiles as she forces Cassie to go wherever she chooses. Cassie momentarily stops the parade, thrusting forward, driving her shoulder into Chrissy's belly, but Chrissy grinds her head hard again, bringing Cassie to one knee in pain. "That's right, crumpet girl. Fight it."

Cassie regains her feet, wrapping her arms around Chrissy's waist as she struggles to keep from being led around. Smirking, Chrissy reaches under her foe and caresses her breast through her sports bra. Cassie's knees buckle slightly as Chrissy toys with her tit. "Stop that," she breathes, fighting the rising panic in her belly.

"Make me," she purrs, smirking.

Cassie gets her legs back under her and drives forward, trying to back the Imp up, but Chrissy holds her ground. Cassie shoves her hands against Chrissy's hips, trying to get leverage but again, no luck. Another grind of the head and a squeeze of her breast and Cassie drops to one knee. Chrissy releases her breast, wraps Cassie's arm around her neck, grabs a handful of waistband and hauls the confused blonde into the air upside down. Holding her there, instead of supplexing her over, she moves forward to the ropes. Dropping her forward again, she jackknifes Hopkins over the top rope, the rope biting into her smooth belly above her shorts. Cassie cries out as Chrissy pulls her along the top of the ropes, abrading her belly on the cable. Legs flailing, Cassie finally flops off the ropes and head first onto the mat.

As she lies on her back stunned, she is helpless to resist as Chrissy rolls her over onto her stomach. "Tell you what, loser. Let's do something I haven't done since I did it to your limey lezzy lover." Spreading Cassie's supple thighs apart as wide as they can go, Chrissy kneels between them, her own thighs keeping them split. Cassie arches her back in pain as her crotch feels about to split up the middle. Chrissy helps her along by hooking her fingers in the British champ's nose like a bowling ball. "This is called the 7-10 split. Shea didn't like it much either, if I remember." She laughs mockingly as Cassie groans from the combination of crotch split, arched back and nose dig. "Only, let's add something this time." With a wicked gleam in her eye, Chrissy begins tenderly rubbing the seam of Cassie's crotch. Cassie is overwhelmed by conflicting sensations: pain, stimulation, and most of all confusion. This isn't... right. What do I... do? Sensing the confusion and building panic in her blonde opponent, Chrissy decides to kick things up a notch. Letting go of her nose, she lets Cassie flop to her face on the canvas, her legs still split, the Imp's hand still working her crotch expertly. In spite of herself, Cassie's hips start to thrust in rhythm to the Imp's urgings. Cassie's breathing gets heavier as she involuntarily succumbs to the attack.

"You're pathetic," Chrissy says, ceasing the attack and getting up. "Your fed must be embarrassed if you can't beat a little thing like me." She nudges the blonde's hip. "Pussy."

Cassie lies dazed on the mat, then slowly gathers herself, rising to her feet unsteadily. Disoriented, she is flush with anger at the taunting of this little pipsqueak. "You'll pay for that," she grates, though with some uncertainty in her voice.

"Come get me, wanker."

Cassie lunges at Chrissy. The Imp avoids the rather clumsy charge and slips behind her prey, wrapping an arm around her midsection to hold her in place as she caresses between her thighs again. Cassie's eyes glaze slightly as she is yet again assaulted in a way she is not used to in a ring. "Bitch," she groans.

"I think you've got that backwards, tea bag." Giving her a spank on her ass, she lets her go, Cassie staggering forward a step or two out. Shaking her head, blonde hair a-dance, she regroups at the ropes, then advances on the Imp again. Grabbing Chrissy's hair with both hands, she cannot defend against the lightening-quick double fist punch to her breasts and knee to her belly. Hopkins staggers back, the Imp's hair still in her grip. Chrissy charges, forcing her back to the ropes. Slamming her arms down on Cassie's, she breaks the hold on her hair. Mounting the bottom rope, legs on either side of Cassie, she grabs the blonde's hair and plants a violent kiss on her lips. Stunned, Cassie writhes under the Imp's attack. After working the kiss a few moments, Chrissy pulls back and smirks, seeing the utter and complete confusion in her foe's eyes. The eyes always tell the truth.

With Cassie leaning back on the ropes, completely unsure what to do, Chrissy loops her foe's arms between the top and middle ropes, securing her in place. "Wha... ?"

Chrissy tenderly caresses her foe's boobs. Cassie groans as her eyes roll back and head tilts back on her neck. "Pathetic," the Imp mocks. "So pathetic." After a few intense moments of breast manipulation, she traces her finger down Cassie's heaving, sweat-dampened torso. "And I wonder how you'll like... " she teases as her finger touches the waist band of her bike shorts "this." Slipping her hand inside, she smiles, seeing Cassie's eyes as wide as saucers. Rubbing her crotch inside the shorts for the first time, Chrissy is rewarded with a sound that's half groan and half whimper.

"Please. No."

A quick clamp on her crotch sends a shock wave of pain through the British champ, tied helplessly in the ropes. "This is too easy," the Imp pronounces. Looking out at the crowd, she calls out, "Shall we see what she's got left?" A loud shout of assent reverberates through the arena. Chrissy obliges as she unhooks the ropes holding Cassie's arms entangled, letting the blonde slide to her lovely ass on the mat. Standing in front of her, the Imp waits for her to rise.

Cassie, slowly pulls herself up by the ropes, panting and totally bewildered. She takes an awkward swing at Chrissy, who easily ducks and guts her with a right uppercut. Cassie staggers back and takes another swing, totally abandoning her scientific methods, goaded by the Imp's jibes. Again, Chrissy avoids it, catching Cassie in a full nelson. Cassie writhes in her grip, but the Imp is locked in and she can't go anywhere. Increasing the pressure, Chrissy drives her rival to her knees, hair hanging in her face, chest heaving.

Chrissy is not out just to win, she is bent on humiliating her opponent. Leaning toward the blonde's ear, she purrs, "Wassa matta baby? Can't get away?" Before she can answer, Chrissy releases the nelson and slips around in front of the kneeling Brit. Wrapping one arm around her neck, Chrissy clamps her other hand over Cassie's mouth and nose, grabbing her own wrist with the encircling arm to hold it firmly in place.

Cassie's eyes spring wide as she gives in to total panic! Desperately her hand tugs at Chrissy's arm, but she is too strong, the Imp smiling cruelly as her captive struggles frantically. Pulling, slapping, writhing, all are in vain as Chrissy suffocates the British champion. Chest and belly heaving in panic, Cassie's eyes start to flutter. Chrissy snarls, pumping the hold a few times, increasing Cassie's desperation, her frantic attempts to fight it useless. Chrissy inflates her chest, drawing energy from the hold, even as the blonde sinks further and further into panic. As Cassie sags on her knees, hands pushing uselessly against the Imp's torso or tug futilely at her arms, Chrissy pronounces sentence.

"You should never have come over here, you pathetic pile of pigshit." Another squeeze. "Some friend Shea is if she didn't warn you about what I'd do to you – what I've done to her." A useless wriggle. "Your belt is worthless. Your fed is worthless. You're a pathetic, worthless wanna be that can't play with the big girls." She chuckles. "Did I mention you were worthless?" Another squeeze. "Now, why don't you run home to mommy and have her wipe your ass for you. I'm about through kicking it."

Cassie's eyes flutter closed, then open a bit. Then close again as she succumbs to the inevitable. As she starts to slump badly, Chrissy releases the hold, letting the humbled British champion flop like a rag doll to the mat. "I want you awake for this, peroxide putz." Chrissy pulls the nearly passed out princess to her feet, supporting almost all of her weight. Picking her up in bodyslam position, she carries her to the nearest corner and hangs her upside down on the turnbuckle, legs hooked over the top rope on either side of the padding. Regarding her limp, nearly unconscious foe with pitiless eyes, she calls out to the crowd, "SO MUCH FOR BRITISH CHAMPIONS, HUH?" The crowd goes nuts as they wonder what the Imp will do now. "Loser bitch," she says, dismissing the challenge of her overmatched opponent. Sliding her fingers under the waistband of her foe's bottoms, she makes a show of peeling them down... or rather... up, over her hips and halfway down her thighs, stretching the fabric as tight as she could, barely hooking it over the top of the ringpost, exposing the humiliated British champ's crotch to the world. Giving it a few strokes, she smiles as Cassie moans, still almost completely out of it. Smirking, she moves her attention to the upper half of her challenger's body, peeling the sports bra off of her, pulling it off with a flourish of blonde hair and flopping arms, setting Cassie's large, succulent bared breasts a-bounce, now free to let gravity take control, to the delighted hooting of some of the crowd.

Weakly, Cassie finds the strength to whisper, "Please... don't."

Her plea falls on deaf ears. "Sorry, limey. You should have thought of that before you accepted the match." She smirks. "Besides, I'm not real good as putting these back on." She chuckles mockingly. Wrapping it around the blonde's wrists, she secures her arms behind her to the ringpost. Smirking, she playfully pats Cassie's cherubic cheek. "Now we know not to fuck with Chrissy Daniel, don't we?" she says as though speaking to an eight-year-old. "Have fun, sweetcheeks. Oh, and say ‘Hi' to London for me. OK?" She pats her cheek again, then stands.

Making a show of it, she extends her right arm in the air, flexing her fingers dramatically, almost excessively, and slowly lowers her hand to Cassie's wide-open crotch. Expertly, she starts toying with her foe's love canal, tenderly yet mercilessly stimulating her honey pot. Cassie shudders and moans helplessly as Chrissy lathers her up. Hips thrusting, breasts bouncing on her chest as her breathing deepens and quickens, Cassie is pitilessly and heartlessly driven towards release by the Imp's educated hand. "No... .. no... .. NO... .. OH M' GODDDDDDDD!" she finally cries out as her body convulses in a massive release. Finally she hangs limp in the corner.

Chrissy starts to wipe her hand on Cassie's thigh, but has a better target. Picking up Cassie's championship belt, she makes a show of wiping the champ's sticky discharge on the belt. Holding the belt aloft, she calls out, "THAT'S WHAT THIS IS WORTH! NEXT TIME DON'T SEND A PUSSY TO DO A WOMAN'S JOB!" Lowering the belt, she adds dismissively, "Some fucking federation." For good measure, she slides the belt between her legs a few times as though she was wiping her ass on it, then hooks it in place around the inverted champ's waist, a symbol of her conquest.

Raising her fist in the air to raucous cheers, she slips between the ropes and hops down from the ring, her mouthwatering melons a-bounce in her bikini top. Strutting seductively up the aisle, she revels in the crowd's reaction, leaving her trophy tied to the ringpost, dismissed in her mind.

Winner: Chrissy Daniel