Monica took a hold of Kat's beige crochet bikini top, then with a single abrupt tug, tore the top from Katherine's sulking breasts, setting them a-knocking. Kat's head tilted back, lips curling back off her teeth, her closed eyes frowning in dim protest. Monica stood, weight on her right hip as she slowly wrapped Kat's bikini top around and around the knuckles of her right hand. Then she reached forward with her left, wrapping a fistful of blonde curls close to Katherine's scalp and using them to pull her head to the side, opening it up for the rain of right hands to follow.

Monica went to work righty - patient, pounding punches, delivered flush to the hairline as Kat wallowed in a stupor, soaking it up. Monica stomped with her bare right foot on tiles as she gave it to Katherine - her fist smacking off pate, curling it back to her chest as she kept her punches nice and tight. Monica’s expression never changed - her dark-lashed eyes flat and impassive as she drew her fist back to her shoulder, then plowed the next strike into her opponent's skull.

When Monica heard the commotion outside the glass door - heard those watching on closed-circuit clamor for the fight to be stopped - she stood, gazing down at Katherine's slumped body. Unwinding the sodden bikini top, she dropped it on Kath's left thigh with a moist splat, turned and headed for the door, her feet slapping on the wet tiles.

Katherine slumbered in a daze - head ringing. She was as badly beaten and completely used up as she’d ever been in her entire career.

That's how it all began with these two…
* * * *
Katherine’s wearing a red one piece tank suit; Monica's all in black.

Monica's shoulder takes Katherine heavy in the chest, forcing the air from the shell-shocked blonde. Kat groans, lips pursed, eyes shut tight, her arms draped over the top corner ropes of the pro-style ring. Monica lays in there for just a moment, her right shoulder pushed into Kathy, letting her feel the weight - Monica’s left hand with a secure grasp on the second rope. Shrugging up off of Kat - Monica's right hand gently cups the underside of Kathy's chin; tilting it up and back in preparation.

Another beefy forearm/shoulder block impact against the blonde's well cushioned bosom followed by another “WHUF” exhalation from Kat, her face grimacing in pain as she soaks it up. Monica takes it slow - straightening up off Kat, smoothing her long black hair behind her ears as she gazes into Kat's stricken face, then cupping her left hand behind Kathy's head to pull her forward. A short right cross pounds Kat between the eyes, rocking her back into the corner with a dull CRACK - Monica curling the fist back tight to her chest on follow through.

With her right hand, Monica cups Kathy under her chin, jerking her face-front again. Monica loads-and-releases, delivering a booming right hand slanted down into the breadbasket, Monica’s left riding gently at Kathy's right shoulder. Heigl's shout of pain is moist with hurt as she pitches forward, arms slithering off the top rope to hug her throbbing gut. Bellucci straightens, smoothes hair back behind her ears, then slowly reaches down under Kathy's arms, bodying up on the blonde to stack her against the turnbuckles. Heigl's in trouble - mouth open, eyes closed: she's taking yet another shellacking from Monica.

Hadn't started out that way tonight...
* * * *
Out of the very first collar-and-elbow lock up - Kat's legs had driven Monica back into her own corner, and Kathy had been able to get to Italian gut via thick right-thigh lifts. Kathy smiled at the sound of Monica’s groan, seeing her cramp up hurt: THAT was more like it! Taking Monica by her hair, Kat pulled the brunette along the ropes to a neutral corner, slamming Monica’s forehead into turnbuckle. A pair of right-thigh lifts to the lower back buckled Monica’s knees. It was a good start, and Kat planned to ride it to a glowing win. She stepped up the attack in the corner, ramming Monica a series of robust shoulder-blocks into the belly, doubling the Italian over in shock. When Kathy pulled Monica forward with the left hand behind the head, and rocked her with a looping European Uppercut, it was the best feeling in the world for Heigl.

Monica draped over the top rope, spellbound with punishment, eyes staring from the beefy receipt of Kat's rounded bicep under the chin.

Then the real fight started.
* * * *
In the corner, Kat would systematically smash away with meaty forearms to the chest and ribs, knee-lifts and shoulder-blocks to the gut in hopes of beating Monica down - but Monica would sponge it, reaching under Kathy's arms to muscle her around, putting Kat's butt in the turnbuckles for thudding payback. Monica started to land her own brawn - pounding thickly and methodically at blonde chest and tummy, smashing forearms across Kathy's back, picking her up via swinging European uppercuts. Kathy would clinch-and-reverse - jamming Monica back into the corner for punishment, and brawny reprisals would ensue - but this bludgeoning give-and-take was Monica’s fight. As the pace slowed, and attrition accrued to both battlers - Monica slowly but surely started to impose her will. It was simply mind-blowing for Kathy. The pro-ring was supposed to be the answer to Monica - her Achilles Heel. Instead, it was slowly but surely turning into another blonde Waterloo...

Monica with that little right hand under Kathy's chin - a pretty little touch to prep the blonde - then Monica lurches her weight forward, lifting her rounded left thigh up into the quivering thick of Kat's belly meat as Monica's arms reach around Kathy's shoulders to stabilize her. Sobbing groan from Kathy - she's all pressed flat - Monica letting her thigh linger against Heigl's tummy a moment before peeling it away from the blonde. Monica just working at her own pace - unhurried, methodical, conserving her energy. If it was up to her, she'd pound at Kathy all night like this.

Monica takes Kathy's right hand in her left, pulling the blonde's arm around and under the top rope - Kathy groggily shaking her head 'No', eyes pleading. Monica loads up a big Italian right, then slams a beefy Punch/Forearm Shiver to that heaving blonde rack; Monica exhaling through pursed lips on contact. Kathy bleats in pain - chin up as she cramps forward, her right foot jerking up off the canvas in pained reflex. Monica turns her back on Kathy, steps away all sultry - Italian drawing both hands through her hair to push the damp mass off her shoulders and down her back. Woozy Kat pitches forward in swoon, crashing chest-first to canvas, lying with her left cheek down, her arms crossed against her tummy as she sadly bangs her right foot repeatedly against the canvas. Monica glances back over her right shoulder, licks her lips: she shifts a little to the side, then leisurely drops backwards to drive her elbow into the small of Kathy's exposed lower back. Throaty groan from Kat: Monica sits up just off the blonde's left shoulder, adjusting the straps of her black tank suit.

Leaning to her right, Monica slides her arms in around Kathy's face, left hand gripping right wrist at Kathy's right cheek, twisting the blonde's head to the left. Kat groans, props up on her elbows as she lies on her stomach. Monica grinds it - those rounded shoulders and full biceps thick and smooth as she works from her seated position: never any wasted energy from Monica. Kat manages to get to her knees, crouching down on her haunches, her left arm around Monica's hip as Monica sits there squeezing, pouring the face/headlock to Kathy. It's all too reminiscent of their previous encounters - slow, sensual affairs fought on Monica’s terms for the most part. Kathy's getting too used to the feel of Monica's arms wrapped tightly about her head and ribcage.
* * * *
"It's too soon," Lynda Carter had said two days after Bellucci had pounded her way to victory over Katherine in the sauna. Carter and Kat reclined on deck-chairs on Lynda's patio by the pool. It was a bright, muggy, LA afternoon.

"I've already booked the tickets," Katherine said, sipping her Mojito, rubbing absently at her tanned, oily belly in the sun. "I'm goin' to Rio, baby."

"La Conquista is the LAST thing you should be thinking right now. It's what she wants you to do. Listen to me: the woman goes at you - at YOU - with breast-smothers in the sauna, and she gets it done on you - you're beat. Then, THEN, she pounds you senseless when she could have just gotten the pin. She's trying to goad you Kath - she's trying to press your buttons."

"Consider my buttons pushed."

"Kathy! Look, answer me this: would you challenge La Conquista with Monica if she hadn't worked you over the way she had? Huh?"

Kat paused, sipping, "Eventually."

"Yeah, eventually. But not now. She's gunning for you Kath - you shouldn't be playing her game. Let her bog down in Gena or Ali - put some mileage on her before you get back in with her. You're smarter than this."

"It's too late for smart," Kat said quietly. "How smart were you when it came to Susan Anton?"

That shut Lynda up for a moment. She pursed her lips and tilted her face to the sun. "That was different," Carter smiled.
"No, that was the same. She scissor-submitted you the first time you wrestled and it was front-page news. She put legs to you Lynda - to YOU - and it sucked, didn't it? Everyone thought she was the newer, bigger, better Lynda Carter. How 'smart' were you when you started hearing that crap from your agent?"

Lynda sipped her drink, cocked her head at her young protégé. "Fine. But while we're on the subject of Susan - do you know she beat me six straight times at the start? I had to work my ass off to close the gap on her and reel her in. Is that what you want with Monica? Is it? Because Monica’s not going away, and she's already slapped your face once. If you get into this with her like I did with Susan, just be prepared. It could be a lot longer than you think before you get satisfaction. If ever."
* * * *
From here, you get the gist of it…

I'd use the Pro-style bout as the here-and-now: those segments introducing flashbacks to their previous encounters…

- A La Conquista contest,

- an apartment battle,

- a DWW style submission-wrestling contest,

- as many competitions as you want formatted via separate past-tense flashbacks told in the body of the main wrestling bout.

To provide narrative suspense - we'd find out during the here-and-now pro wrestling bout that Lynda Carter had been working against Heigl all along. Lynda knew just how to coax Heigl into making rash decisions - at the start, simply by making it sound too dangerous to confront Monica, thereby engaging Katherine's considerable pride. Any injuries or weaknesses, or training details displayed by Heigl in the flashback sequences would have been reported (which readers would quickly grasp and be able to factor into Monica’s performance). Katherine is beaten by Monica not so much by force of arms alone, but because the groundwork had been laid by wiser, craftier, more experienced brunettes looking to take a buxom young blonde down a peg or three.

Ultimately, I think the story would have been itself 'part 1' of a 2 part engagement: the second part being Kat's effort to regroup, learn her lessons, get trustworthy people around her, then seek Bellucci out for payback. In the process, other big-women could have cameos as the Heigl/Bellucci conflict grows until it eventually encompasses the entire division.