The sweet, pixieish melody of "There She Goes" by Sixpence None The Richer breaks through the darkness, a white pin spotlight finding FAWN's favorite girl-next-door and even more former Television champion, Kylie Sanders.

The diminutive Kylie draws a solid ovation from the crowd, despite the torn allegiance of many Cyclones, Kylie's black bikini, trimmed in gold, starting to turn the crowd against her, from instinct, if nothing more. By her side is cousin Kristy in pink blouse and denim, the younger Sanders relishing the interplay with the crowd as much or more than a beaming Ky.

Kylie occasionally reaches from one side to the other to touch hands with the scattered members of the Kylie Corps, but it's apparent her thoughts are elsewhere. A motivated Kiora is threatening enough, but Miriam has to be nearby. Surely, the wretched redhead would have shared the story of Kylie's declaration, Sanders long ago proclaiming Miriam to be her best f*ck ever under the pressure of an unrelenting sexual assault by the S&M mistress. Kiora would no doubt be trying to top her lover and wring just such a declaration from FAWN's resident jobber and girl-toy.

Reaching the squared circle, a few more cheers are heard as she loosens her limbs, both upper and lower, but it's as much in tandem with ogling leers than any show of support, some of those in the front rows clearly dreaming of their chance to see what the exotic Asian would do to that taut, little ivory body, the Hawkeye cutie deflowered. Many a mind boggles at the delicious thought.

The erstwhile coed faces down a few troublemakers ringside, one carrying a placard pronouncing 'Kylie's sugary sweet, but at the end, Kiora's ass you'll eat.'

Kylie ignores that fan's verdict, as best she can, but quickly she stares wide-eyed at another poster held high. It is a full color spread of Kylie, on her back, hands buried in her crotch, pleading to a grinning Miriam, below in big red letters 'This sequel will be better than the original.'

The golden-haired beauty wisely decides to turn her gaze from further detractors and back to the ring. Kylie hops to the apron and the adorable blonde slides through the ropes.

Kylie circles, looking abundantly anxious, steeling herself with occasional glances at an encouraging Kristy. She skips in place, occasionally checking the tension of the ropes, eyes darting through the crowd and around the ring. She shadowboxes to burn off some nervous energy and waits for the inevitable fade of Six Pence and the arrival of her foe. She and Kristy had stemmed the losing tide with a wonderful tag victory, but winning on her own hadn't been accomplished in a lo-o-o-o-ng time. To prove herself under these physically, emotionally, and sexually intimidating circumstances could go a long way in rebuilding her self-esteem and her career. She had to fight. She had to win.

The crowd started to cheer in response, but this was cut short by a blast of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody". The crowd fell into silence as though on cue and into the darkness came the spotlight. It fell on a figure that now stood slouched at the head of the ramp.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!! KIORRRRAAA DONNNAAVVOOONN!!!"

Kiora wears a ripped and torn LED ZEPPELIN concert t-shirt and equally ill-used denim jean shorts. Grubby athletic shoes complete the ensemble. Yet disheveled as she looks, there's an undeniable exotic sexiness about the young woman. Suddenly, a second person joins Donavon--it was the redhead Miriam Gaiman. Miriam slides her arm seductively around Kiora's waist as the two nuzzle each other. Then, side by side they saunter down to the ring.

The bell brings both women out of their corners, each intently eyeing the other, but each one's eyes possessing a different sort of look. The hazel eyes of the Iowa coed are wary, waiting for Kiora to make a move--any move--so that she could react. Kiora's, on the other hand, are more lascivious, the enigmatic Asian beauty making no attempt to hide her mental undressing of Kylie. A quick smirk crosses her lips at the look of revulsion that passes for a moment across her blonde foe's face. "Miri's told me so much about you, sweet Kylie," Donavon purrs. "I can't wait to learn if you truly do taste as sweet as she says."

Kylie continues to keep her distance as Kiora circles her. "Sorry to disappoint you, but you're going to be waiting a long time for that one."

The exotic beauty allows herself a small pout. "Then I'll settle for letting you settle the bet Miri and I have between us: just which one of us is the Best Fuck in the World, her or me?"

The color drains from Kylie's face as that particular memory--and the consequences that had followed--come back to her. And that provides all the opening Kiora needs, the brunette covering the distance in a flash before sending a running kneelift into the blonde's midsection. With a loud "whoof!" the coed doubles over, taking a step back toward the ropes. Her journey into the cables is quickly facilitated by Kiora as she peppers Kylie's midsection with repeated swift kicks. Finally, Kylie's back hits the ropes, and Donavon ends the barrage, giving Kylie a second to attempt to recover the wind the Asian's educated feet had knocked out of her.

That second proves fleeting, however. Before Kylie can complete a gasp, Kiora delivers a vicious palm thrust directly into the blonde's windpipe. "GAWK!" Kylie sputters, turning away from her rival as she brings a hand up to massage her throat. But Kiora stays on her, grabbing the back of her opponent's head and pushing her down, pressing Kylie's eyes into the top rope.

Sanders shrieks as Kiora walks her toward the farthest corner, the rubber-coating steel cable burning her eyes. Reaching the corner, Donavon punctuates the trip by sending Kylie's forehead into the top turnbuckle, buckling the blonde's knees and rolling her eyes. Pushing the her Hawkeye enemy's (and the crowd's enemy Hawkeye) back into the corner, Donavon leans her body into Kylie's as she wraps her fingers tightly around the blonde's throat in a blatant choke.

Kylie's eyes begin to bulge as Kiora bears down, her more modest breasts rubbing against Kylie's as she throttles her adversary. "Stop lying to yourself, Kylie," Donavon says. "There's only one reason someone can lose as often and as spectacularly as you do: because, somewhere deep down, she likes being owned."

"Alright, Kiora," the ref barks. "Let her go. ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!"

Just before the ref can say the final five, Donavon relaxes her grip, Kylie gulping down air with a loud wheeze. But while she released her choke, Kiora uses her body--and her additional 20lbs--to keep Sanders pinned into the corner. She slips a leg between Kylie's and rubs her tattered denim clad thigh against the blonde's womanhood, Sanders too concerned with recovering her breath to object--but she was definitely growing increasingly aware of her exotic rival's efforts. "Miriam owns you already," Kiora whispers, gently running her tongue along the side of the blonde's necks, forcing an involuntarily moan from Kylie's lips. "Tonight, she transfers the deed to me."

Kiora buries her face into Kylie's neck, biting down on the tender flesh she had moments ago been squeezing, Kylie offering a plaintive yelp as she tries to shove Donavon away. Letting go with her teeth, Kiora takes a step back, licking her lips while Kylie slumps to a seat.

"Consider that your brand." Kiora chuckles.

Kylie shakes her head in an attempt to shake off Donavon's early success, and to focus her thoughts. Damn it, pull yourself together, she chides herself. You can do this. You can beat her. She's really quite good, isn't she?

Kylie frowns. Those last words hadn't been hers.

"Trust me, Kylie," Miriam Gaiman continues, standing just beside the blonde's seated position just outside the ring. "She really knows how to be in control. And I made sure to tell her which of your buttons she most wants to push."

Kylie turns her head to respond to the redhead's quips, but that proves to be a mistake. Before she can get the first word out, Kiora is back on her, scraping her grubby shoes repeatedly across Kylie's face, then backing up just enough to drive a running boot into the coed's elfin features, rocking the blonde's head back.

With a handful of Kylie's blonde hair, Donavon pulls her up to her feet. Taking her by the wrist, she sends Sanders into the opposite corner. Or rather, she tries to. Instead, the erstwhile coed puts on the breaks, reversing the whip, and sending Donavon into a vicious short clothesline that almost decapitates her and draws the loudest ovation a Hawkeye could ever hope to receive in Ames.

Feeding off that support from the Ames faithful, Kylie pushes herself back to her feet, and swiftly rolls Kiora into a Boston Crab. Kiora groans as Kylie's tight glutes hover just over Donavon's back. Kneeling beside her, the ref asks, "Had enough?"

Suddenly, that groan turns into a mocking laugh. "I'm sorry," Kiora mutters, "but is she doing something to me? Come on, Kylie. Sit back!"

Clearly shaken by her enigmatic adversary's response, Kylie still does as she's told. But instead of wringing a submission from her foe, Kiora seems almost lost in ecstacy. "Yes!" Donavon screams breathlessly. "YES! HARDER!"

Sanders shook her head. Kiora was taking a page out of the Miriam playbook. But it wasn't going to work. Not tonight. Not against her. Gritting her teeth, Kylie sits back even more in her crab, Kiora's moans of pleasure finally starting to possess a hint of pain.

There was no danger of Kiora submitting to this cheap of a hold, but yes, it was starting to hurt. And Kiora knew the crab would soften her up for other, more effective attacks if she didn't get out of it soon. Stretching out her arm, Donavon lunges for the bottom rope... and her fingers find it.

"Break it, Kylie," the ref orders. But Sanders, feeling a little vindictive, instead takes a couple of bounces up and down against Kiora's back.

"ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!"

Kylie finally complies, allowing Donavon's lower limbs to fall from her grasp and crash to the canvas. To her credit, Kiora quickly begins to pull herself up. But Kylie takes her right back with a drop toe hold, and has Kiora wailing when that drop toe hold quickly becomes an ankle lock.

"Who's owning who now?" Kylie shouts, giving Kiora's ankle a savage twist. Kiora pushes herself up onto her elbows as she is again forced to scamper for the ropes.

And with an assist from Miriam, Donavon's hand again finds the bottom rope.

"ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!"

Dragging the Asian up to her feet, Kylie shoves her back into the corner, and then unloads with a pair of chops to Kiora's pert bosom, one landing across the "Led" and the other across the "Zeppelin." Swinging her right arm at Kiora again, Sanders pulls her into a side headlock, and then takes her out of the corner with a bulldog that plants Kiora's face into the mat.

Wasting no time, Sanders rolls her over and hooks a leg.

ONE...

TWO...

Kickout.

Rising quickly, Kylie assists Kiora back up as well, but only to drive her back to the mat with a gutwrench suplex, Donavon arching her back off the canvas before falling back into a sprawled heap. Kipping back to her feet, Sanders moves to the ropes, slipping through them and climbing the buckles.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Miriam sing-songs below her.

Ignoring her, Kylie reaches the top turnbuckle.

"Everyone in the building knows you're going to miss," Miriam continues. "Seriously, it's like you sabotage yourself every time you have a victory locked up."

With a cold glare, Kylie looks down at Miriam, and then let's her know--to the crowd's delight--that she'll always be number one in Kylie's book. Then, turning her attention back to Donavon, the Hawkeye takes flight with a picture perfect frogsplash.

And contrary to the redhead's prediction, Kylie lands across Kiora's midsection with a 'THWUMP!' Kylie bounces atop her splattered foe, hooking a leg as she settles into a pinning predicament.

ONE...

TWO...

THR... shoulder up.

A groan runs through the assembled masses, Kylie herself cursing under her breath. But she stays on the attack, bounding back to her feet and standing over her Asian foe, straddling Kiora's waist as she prepares to pull her up.

But suddenly, Kiora roars back to life. And tragically for Kylie, that renewed life manifests itself in Kiora sitting upright, and in the process slamming her forehead into the coed's crotch.

As long as their had been Samoans in wrestling, the power of their headbutts had been legendary. And Kiora had certainly inherited that trait in her partial Islander heritage. Kylie's knees buckle and eyes cross, the Hawkeye staggering back a couple of steps, allowing Kiora to get to her knees. As soon as she does, the brunette's hand flashes forward, her talons digging into Kylie's tenderized groin. Following as it did on the heels of Kiora's headbutt, Donavon's probing digits prove nearly as agonizing as the one and only Cathy Dennehy's.

"AWWWWWWW FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKK!!!!!" the blonde screams, tears bursting from her closed eyes as Kiora gives her womanhood a twisting squeeze. "LEEEEGGGGOOOOOO!!!!"

With a cruel smile, Kiora slowly shakes her head, and another pulse of the claw drops Kylie to her knees just as Kiora regains her footing. Only then does Kiora release the claw, instead bringing both hands to grab Kylie's head. Holding the coed's noggin steady, the Asian delivers a series of repeated short kicks that snap Kylie's head back and forth within Donavon's grasp. Finally, she takes a step back, and then fires a punt that catches the blonde right under the chin and sends Kylie flopping spread-eagled onto her back. Leisurely, Kiora drapes herself atop the blonde, hooking a leg.

ONE...

Kiora's hand slips inside Kylie's bikini bottoms, her fingers tenderly gliding across the blonde's sex.

TWO...

Stifling a moan, Kylie still manages to keep enough of her wits to thrust a shoulder up.

Rising, Kiora drags Kylie over to the ropes, draping the blonde across the middle rope, the cable running just under her perfect bust. Then, digging her nails into Kylie's shoulder blades, Donavon rakes her claws all the way down to the curve of the coed's backside, her cries of pain delightful music to the brunette's ears. Crouching behind her foe, Donavon presses her tongue against one of the rapidly reddening welts, licking her way up the length of the wound, Kylie offering a sharp hiss every inch of the way.

Kiora's eyes lock with Miriam's, as if the two were engaging in some unspoken communication. Then, Kiora reaches forward, ripping Kylie's bikini top from her body and then using it to choke the life out of her. Gagging, Sanders tries to slip her fingers under the garment--her garment, now being used against her--but Kiora has pulled the noose too tight. Her feet pound and kick against the mat as she struggles for freedom, the ref finally stepping in to administer the count.

"ONE!"

"About damn time!" Kristy Sanders shouts from the other end of ringside.

"TWO!"

The junior Sanders watches as Kiora refuses to release her choke. "Come on, ref!" she screams pleadingly at the official.

"THREE!"

Her heart sinks as Kylie's thrashing and kicking legs begin to slow. "DAMMIT, REF!"

"FOUR!"

With a flourish, Kiora releases her garrote, slinging the bikini top into the sea of Cyclones as she backs away from the gurgling blonde. Looking over the official's shoulder, she looks down at Kristy with a sneer. "You were sounding so frustrated just then," the Asian notes. "You don't actually think you could do better. Do you?"

"Oh, I could totally kick your ass," Kristy responds. "But I'm not going to have to, because Kylie's going to do that in a few minutes."

"How precious," Kiora observes. "I may have to take both of you home with me tonight."

With that, Kristy climbed onto the apron. "Just come out here and try it, bitch."

Meanwhile, as the ref tried to keep an impromptu match from breaking out between Kiora and Kristy, Kylie continues to sag against the ropes, blinking her eyes and struggling for breath.

And, unfortunately, she wasn't alone.

Taking full advantage of the distraction provided across the ring, Miriam Gaiman reaches forward with both hands, pinching Kylie's nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and giving them a savage tug downward. Kylie starts to scream as Miriam rips at her nipples, the middle rope digging into the undersides of her breasts. But Gaiman quickly silences her by planting her lips against Kylie's, her tongue invading the coed's open mouth and exploring with relish.

Overwhelmed, Kylie struggles against Miriam's efforts, but without a plan, and without much hope. She only escapes when Miriam sees Kristy hop down from the arpon, prompting the redhead to let go of her plaything. Wide-eyed, Kylie rolls to her side, taking a seat with her back against the ropes, her left arm brought up to her throbbing breasts. Feeling she has matters firmly in hand, Kiora saunters back to the coed, hauling her up with the help of her blonde locks before tucking Kylie's head under her arm. Gripping the waistband of the blonde's bikini bottoms, she attempts to left Sanders up for a brainbuster...

... but out of nowhere, Sanders turns it into a small package.

ONE...

TWO...

THR... kickout.

Kiora's kickout sends Sanders flopping onto her back, Donavon immediately pushing up to her knees. Before the hawkeye can make another move, Kiora unleashes another claw, this one to the blonde's stomach with both hands. Kylie howls in agony, arms and legs thrashing into the Asian roughly rips her grasp away. Getting back to her feet, Kiora quickly sends a double stomp right to where here claw had been sunk, sending Kylie rolling into a ball on her side.

Bending down, Donavon begins to pull Kylie back up for what she intended to be a final time. But, acting purely on instinct, Sanders grabs Kiora's head, positions the brunette's jaw over the crown of her head, and then drops to her knees. The improvised jawbreaker sends Kiora crumbling to the canvas, rubbing her jaw while Kylie frantically tries to will herself back to her feet.

In a testament to her will, the blonde is the first up, wrapping her arms around a rising Kiora's waist and lifting her up into the air. Dropping to one knee, Kylie gets some payback for Kiora's repeated lower assaults with an inverted atomic drop that propels the Asian up onto her tippy toes. Riding the wave of adrenaline that was voertaking her, Kylie bounds to her feet, and then off them, a dropkick taking Kiora down.

Instead of rising, kylie crawls over to cover her.

ONE...

TWO...

Kickout.

Kylie and Kiora force themselves to rise on unsteady legs, Kiora swinging her right arm with her patented cup choi strike. But Kylie ducks the kung fu style haymaker, and uses the momentum of the brunette's follow through to slip behind her and lock in a cobra clutch. Instantly, Kiora's free arm is flailing, searching for anything--Kylie, the ropes, anything --that might assist her, but finding only air.

Seeing the tide turn, Miriam begins to climb onto the apron, a move that draws the ref's attention to her. But before she can do anything else, Miriam utters a surprising squawk as a pair of hands wrap around her ankle, Kristy Sanders pulling the redhead's feet out from under her, the apron clipping Miriam's chest and chin on her way down.

Feeling Kiora starting to go under, Kylie releases the clutch, wrapping her arms around the Asian's waist before she can collapse. Leaning back, Sanders pulls her off her feet and raises her overhead, slamming her shoulders and the back of her head into the mat, Kylie bridging to complete the Over and Done.

ONE...

TWO...

THREE...

FOUR...

FIVE...

"REF!!!!!!!" Kylie screams, without releasing the pin, her body quivering as she struggles to keep the bridge.

His attention drawn from the fracas outside the ring, the official slides into position.

ONE...

TWO...

THREE!

DING! DING! DING!

Kylie lets go, allowing Kiora's matchbooked body to fold into a face-down heap as Kylie herself sprawls out on her back, chest heaving, the arena lights glistening off her slick, exposed skin. She had done it. She had won a match she desperately needed to win, against the sort of woman she had to be able to beat. It hadn't been easy. It never had been, and it never would be in FAWN. But she had done it.

And that was an important first step.

WINNER: Kylie Sanders