Whitney Whipple stands alone in the ring, trying as hard as she can to betray none of the worry she's experiencing.

This is the biggest match of her career and perhaps her life. It's not against a superstar and it isn't for a title belt. Truly it'll be a long time, if ever, before Whitney Whipple matches for a title belt. But there is a prize at the end of this match and it's her pride, as well her poor partner's self respect.

Patricia Patterson, the FAWN executive who has made herself the bane of Whitney's existence, was very clear about the stakes in this one. If Whitney loses Meegan Jolly will be spanked, in the centre of the ring, by Patricia's secretary.Whitney hasn't spoken to Meegan at all in the past few days. It's as if Meegan is ignoring or avoiding her, and Whitney can't blame her best friend. If she were in Meegan's, ahem, pants she'd probably feel the same way. She left Meegan several messages, assuring her she'd give her best accounting of herself in the match, but she doubted Meegan had any faith left in her.

Whitney dresses in a simple electric blue bikini, doing wonders to show off her fit body. The string top covers just enough of her pert bosom to leave some to the imagination but do nothing to detract from her tight abdomen, toned biceps, sculpted shoulders and taught upper body. Underneath are simple string bottoms, tight across the buttocks accentuating firm cheeks and toned thighs. Her legs are tight and rounded, dimpled by white overstuffed kneepads and matching calf high wrestling boots.

Upon hearing her name, the cutie from Cleveland gives an enthusiastic wave to the fans. The athletic blonde relishes the crowd's returned attention, her body and looks doing wonders to attract the appreciation of the male fans. She blows them a cute kiss and returns to her corner awaiting the arrival of her next Fawn foe.

Whitney isn't shocked to see who Patricia had picked as her opponent tonight. When Andromeda walks down the aisle, her gold bikini and boots shimmering in the arena lights, her hair looking ravishing, Whitney accepts the fact Patricia has once again played her perfectly. With her closeness to Demetria Andrews, the first FAWN wrestler to ever face (and squash) Whitney, she didn't doubt for a second Andromeda had learned the secret everyone seemed to know...how to shred Whitney Whipple into hamburger meat.

Andromeda enters the ring and drops her gold jacket. She gives the fans a few shakes of her Atlanta born and bred body before casting one of her mean glances Whitney's way. It's a look Whitney knows well...the one that says "I own you." Anciline had it in spades. So did Demetria Andrews. Whitney shoots back a tough look of her own but she knows it doesn't fluster Andromeda for even a split second. There's no confidence behind Whitney's eyes and any wrestler can see that.

Whitney stretches in her corner, eyeing Andromeda more out of fear of a sneak attack than in anticipation of a fight. She doesn't see Andromeda as a foe, she sees her as an executioner, and that sums up Whitney Whipple's mindset before every match. A little confidence can give you an edge. A little apprehension can hurt your chances. A lot of fear makes you dead in the water.

The bell is about to sound and the energy in the arena is up, but it drops when a female voice comes from the back.

"Hold on! Hold on!"

Whitney recognizes the voice immediately. How couldn't she? It's the voice that's dogged her nightmares for the past two weeks. Patricia Patterson, her china white countenance and tightly pulled back hair staring down at Whitney from the arena's jumbotron, addresses the arena from an undisclosed location.

"Before we begin, I have a very important announcement. First off, for those who don't know me, I am Patricia Patterson...Vice President of Talent Relations for FAWN."

It's unclear why the fans boo Patricia, perhaps they know exactly who she is and resent her tormenting of Whitney, they dislike her for interrupting a match or they don't much care for her looks. Still Whitney is buoyed when the throng gives Patricia a rough greeting.

"Yes. Well then. As many of you know, tonight's match was to come with a very strict stipulation. If Ms. Whipple were to...or should I say: WHEN Ms. Whipple loses...her partner Meegan Jolly was to be spanked by my secretary for your amusement."

That brings a cheer from the crowd. Even FAWNsters who support the hapless Whitney enjoy the league's spectacle as much as they enjoy the combat itself. The concept of Meegan receiving a stringent punishment is half the selling point.

"Unfortunately Ms. Jolly thinks little of her responsibility to this company or you, the fans. She has failed to show for tonight's event, in breech of her contract. As such, she has indicated her desire to cease her duty to FAWN and terminate her employment immediately, per section D, paragraph 11 of her FAWN agreement."

Whitney's face drops. How could Meegan do this without speaking to her first? Meegan probably didn't want to add more worry to her best friend on the eve of a big match but couldn't endure another humiliation. She didn't blame Meegan for this but she needed to get the bottom of it as soon as possible.

"This doesn't, however, mean the stipulation in tonight's match is completely void. Since I assumed Ms. Jolly didn't have the bravery or faith in her partner to attend tonight's match, I included an additional stipulation. In the event Ms. Jolly fails to show, Ms. Whipple is required to take her place."

The crowd cheers as Whitney turns to the referee in protest. He offers nothing by way of answers but she keeps discussing her impending situation with him. Patricia's voice ends her complaints.

"So Whitney, I suggest you fight like your arse is on the line...because it is!"

Before Whitney can turn back to Andromeda, still in mid argument with the ref, the bell is rung. Whitney's next memory is Andromeda connecting with the back of her head and knocking her to the mat. Like a bag of wet cement, Whitney goes down, dazed and unsteady. She kneels on the mat, trying to recover.

Andromeda is not indecisive in the slightest. She grabs a copious handful of blonde locks and yanks Whitney up. With Whipple firmly in hand she slams the pretty blonde's pretty face into the top turnbuckle what seems like 7 or 8 times. After the 8th time Andromeda releases the young Clevelander and lets Whitney just hang, semi-lifeless, against the turnbuckle. If one didn't know better they might think Whitney's trying to shake off the attack and get herself back into the match...

Andromeda isn't done. Unlike Demetria, who badmouthed Whitney while beating her raw, Andromeda silently beats her raw. She flips Whitney around and, with the skills she learned fighting underground on the tough streets of Atlanta, she drives one hard fist after the other into Whitney's taught midsection. At first the blonde's rock hard Abdominals hold up against the attack but soon even they are worn down by Andromeda's heavy hands. Five punches into the onslaught, Whitney is doubled over, spitting out an "Oooomph" with each sledgehammer blow. Her legs spasm, involuntarily, drawing inward with each blow. She kneels down to the mat, trying to suck oxygen back into her battered lungs, but Andromeda doesn't give her the chance. She pulls Whitney back up and slams three more fists to her gut for good measure.

The referee finally does his job, informing Andromeda that the closed fist is a violation of wrestling's venerated rules and she needs to back off. This gives Whitney to chance to fall to the mat, come to all fours and cough the life out of her body. She's a mess and the match has barely begun. Andromeda moves in, forces Whitney face first to the mat, and scrubs her face against the canvass. She rubs back and forth, waxing both on and off, giving Whitney a pretty serious canvass burn across her cheek and adding some humiliation to her hurt.

She tires of embarrassing Whitney at the cost of hurting her and pulls the blonde back to her unsure feet. Lucky for Whitney she doesn't have to keep herself up for long, a short arm clothesline ending her trip to the standing position. She collides with the canvass on the way back down and pops up like a bouncing ball. Andromeda kicks her back down and goes in for an academic pin.

2! Only 2! And very close to three. So close, in fact, you could call it 2 and nine tenths. But Whitney, for the first time anyone can remember, manages to kick out from a protracted beating. It's not much of a kickout. Just enough to get her one shoulder off the mat, but it still sends a message: Whitney Whipple is not willing to go that quietly.

Andromeda registers disagreement with the referee's count before leaning down and giving a brief choke to the spent Whitney. Whitney's legs pump and kick wildly as her throat is crushed and her windpipe is assaulted. The referee calls Andromeda off, noting that the Atlantean is more about the brawl than the grapple. As if in response to his warning, Andromeda takes her cheating to the next level by leaning down and biting Whitney's forehead. She doesn't stop until she's drawn blood and the referee again orders her away.

Whitney rolls over, her head bleeding and her body aching. Andromeda takes the referee's warning about disqualification with a grain of salt as she waits for him to finish his admonishment before returning to work over the poor blonde.

Andromeda pulls the bleeding blonde to her feet and slaps Whitney clean across the face. Then she chops her a few times in the bosom for good measure. She ends these rugged yet rudimentary attacks with the most primal move of all...a headbutt. It connects flush and knocks Whitney back to the mat. Now her head is bleeding profusely and she looks like death warmed over. Blood streaking down her face and matting into her blonde locks. Whitney is in a bad way.

Andromeda drops down for a second count and this time manages 2 and nine tenths once again. But at the very last second Whitney manages a shoulder off the mat. The crowd pops in support. What's keeping FAWN's lovable loser fighting no one knows for sure. Andromeda again pounds the mat in disagreement. She holds three fingers up for the referee, to let him know once again she's pinned Whitney but for his slow count. He recommends she turn her attention back to the fight.

Andromeda doesn't stand Whitney up this time. Instead she pulls her to a seated position and places an arm around her neck. She places her well toned knee in the small of Whitney's back and starts to strangle. With Whitney trapped, Andromeda has a headlock firmly in place. She puts the pressure on, certain the tight hold is taking its toll on the bleeding blonde. Andromeda keeps the hold on for a few moments before standing and driving her elbow down on Whitney's head. She does it three times, making certain to open the gash on Whipple's forehead just a little more.

Andromeda pulls Whitney up and slides her arms around the blonde's neck. She doubles Whitney at the middle and rotates to and fro. Finally she has enough steam and goes all the way around, slamming Whitney hard to the mat with a swinging neck breaker that leaves Whipple lifeless on the mat. Andromeda slides over her for an arrogant cover.

1! 2! Again, 2 and mere centimeters from victory. But again Whitney gets her shoulder up off the mat. What keeps her going is unknown. It must be magic or miracle...but Whitney will not give up!

Whitney is once again pulled to her feet and this time she's whipped to the ropes. She stumbles to the ropes and slingshots back towards the waiting Andromeda. Her outstretched arm ready to connect with Whitney's body in a clothesline guaranteed to take the last of the wind out of the plucky blonde's sails. But to everyone's surprise Whitney ducks the attempt and collides with the ropes on the far side of the ring.

She comes back once again and this time manages a clothesline of her own, one that takes Andromeda down to canvass. Whitney falls down also, spent and beaten. She's bleeding and exhausted but she pushes herself to push through. Andromeda, more caught off guard than hurt, tries to shake off the effects of Whitney's desperate attack.

Both women struggle back to their feet, Andromeda winning the race. She launches a punch at the unsteady Whitney and finds, to her amazement, that Whitney has enough left in her to block to punch. Whipple uses Andromeda's perceivable shock to launch a punch of her own at the Atlanta tough. It connects, staggering Andromeda. Whitney follows it up with another and, after wiping some blood from her eyes, connects with a clothesline of her own.

Down goes Andromeda! The arena surges! Whitney Whipple, a girl written off as the best looking bad wrestler ever, has finally found something in herself. It only took her partner defaulting on her contract, a humiliating tongue lashing from her employer and getting beaten bloody. Whitney rests for a second, wiping more blood from her face and shaking off some of the pain, before dropping her knee flush on the chest of Andromeda. She follows it up with an elbow drop to the chest, and a leg drop. After the three impact moves Whitney tries for a cover of her own.

2! Whitney Whipple gets 2! For the first time in FAWN Whitney has pinned an opponent and scored a near fall. She rises, rejuvenated, and yanks Andromeda up with her. Whitney is starting to feel her oats and decides nows the time to shake the loser jacket. With one hand on the throat, and the other pressed against golden bikini bottoms, Whitney lifts Andromeda off the mat and slams her down. It's a short, pert, mid-impact body slam...and it's the biggest offensive move of Whitney's career.

With her blonde hair, blue bikini and tan skin covered in smears and streaks of blood, Whitney fights to keep going. She pushes to grab Andromeda and yank her off the mat. She irish whips Andromeda to the ropes, the dark haired beauty plodding along like a dazed victim, and when the gold clad grappler pops back Whitney nails her with an impressive drop kick. It connects, in text book fashion, with Andromeda's chin and drops the dark skinned stunner to the mat.

Andromeda rolls on the mat, the pain starting to set in. She can't believe it...she might go down to FAWN's biggest punch line. She tries to force herself up but her legs are about as stable as a newborn calf. She gets half way up and gets a bulldog for her efforts. Her nose and face connect with canvass and the ebony goddess lies on the mat.

Whitney senses blood in the water. It may be her own blood she's tasting but she's only moments from victory. She rolls Andromeda over and tries for a pin. She comes away with two before she realizes why the referee's stopped counting. In her haste, the blonde tried for a pin too close to the ropes and with a boot on the bottom strand Andromeda broke the count. Whitney curses her inexperience in this position for that rookie mistake.

"OK!" Thinks Whitney, as she clears some blood from her perfectly cute little face, "Maybe I can finish her off!" She hauls Andromeda up and sends her to the ropes. This is it!

Whitney has never had a chance to even try her "Wonderful Whip" finisher in FAWN. Truly she can count the number of times she's been able to use it in her career on one hand. She waits for Andromeda to stumble back to her, sizes up the beleaguered Atlanta girl and spins around. At the conclusion of her spin she connects, perfectly, with Andromeda's neckline. The Wonderful Whip has clotheslines Andromeda practically out of her golden boots.

Andromeda is out. She can't hear the fans jeer her for getting her ass tossed by the worst wrestler in the company, and probably best for her. She'll have plenty to answer for when she comes to. Whitney celebrates with the fans for a few seconds, pumping her fist and taking in their cheers. The smile on her face is beaming, even through her crimson mask.

She drops down and hooks Andromeda's leg. It's unnecessary, Andromeda's limb is just dead weight in her grasp. The man in charge drops down to count out the pin.

1

Whitney grits her teeth!

2

Andromeda isn't moving!

DING! DING!

That's it! Her first win! Whitney jumps up, letting Andromeda's well toned leg fall back to the mat limply. She looks down at the raven skinned beauty and thinks to herself..."I could do anything I want to her! Just like Demetria did to me!" But she decides against it. Being on the receiving end of the humiliation is enough to put Whitney off doing it to others.

She goes to the referee, awaiting her hand raised in victory. But he doesn't immediately do it. Instead he has a brief conversation with the time keeper and points to his wrist. Whitney tries to get a word in but he says nothing. Instead the official announcement confirms her suspicions.

"After 10 minutes of combat, the time limit has expired. This match is ruled a draw!"

Whitney buries her head in her hands. So close and yet so far away. Then she hears a single hand clapping. Again Patricia is on the big screen.

"Bravo! Very good, Whitney! Such a well fought, come from behind win. I don't envy Andromeda of the shame she'll feel knowing she was at your mercy. A hard fought and well deserved win. I mean draw."

Whitney still has to smile. She didn't lose. She gets a towel from a ring attendant and uses it to stop the bleeding as much as she can. Andromeda finally rises to a sitting position and drags herself out of the ring. She stumbles away, showers of boos and jeers raining down on her. One very loud voice, shouting "you suck" draws her attention. She immediately wishes she'd ignored it as it comes with a cast off cup of beer. Doused in stale beer, the stink of defeat as strong as the stink of the beverage, Andromeda wants nothing more than to go home and bury her face in her pillows for a week.

"Andromeda...I'm very displeased. You'll be hearing from me soon."

Andromeda knows exactly what that means. She had been given simple instructions: beat Whitney. It didn't need to be fancy or stylish, just serviceable and violent. Patricia wanted Whitney beaten to a bloody pulp before she meted out punishment. And Andromeda had managed part of her charge. Whitney was a bloody pulp. She just wasn't beaten.

"Back to you, Whitney. All you had to do to save your butt tonight was win. But unfortunately for you...a draw is not a win."

Whitney realizes what Patricia is talking about.

"To avoid corporal punishment you had to WIN. Normally I wouldn't even discuss this with you. We'd just skip right to the penalty phase. But...since you did manage to come back from oblivion in this match...I'm going to offer you a deal. You can take your punishment or you can put it off for a week. Which means next week I have a match for you...and it'll be twice as hard as this one."

Whitney appeals to the fans. Overwhelmingly they push her to take the next week offer. She's winning people over.

"You know what?" Whitney asks. "Set it up for next week! Bring it!"

TBC...