Booty Battle: (Scent is the Greatest Sense Tied to Memory - Jenna Van Oy vs. Jessica Biel) by ASmotherFan

She was beaten... She was broken...naked... her face covered in Jennifer Lopez’ ass sweat and scent...but worst of all, she was still in the ring and no one was coming to help her! Sure, if she laid there long enough, the medical personnel would carry her out on a stretcher, but that would give Jenny too much satisfaction. No... to save what dignity she had left, Beyonce would HAVE to get up... and she would have to take that oh-so-humiliating walk back to the locker room, jeered the whole way by “goody two shoe” fans who just loved to see her get her face mashed by the Latina bitch’s big fat nasty ass! Oh God... she could still smell her...yet she had to get up and get out, if nothing else just to make it to the shower and wash off that humiliating scent!

And so she did... at first it was just heavy breathing, but soon her movements turned to more pronounced and deliberate maneuvers. Her head felt like it had been crushed by a boulder... no better yet... A COW! A BIG FAT PUERTO RICAN COW! Her body ached from her beautiful booty all the way down to her twinkling little toes. She dragged her beaten, naked carcass to the side of the ring and rolled out under the ropes, crashing in a fleshy heap of honey skin to the cold hard cement floor. This brought cheers from the almost riotous crowd as they ate up the pathetic crawling of the fallen ebony warrior, much like they would the sight of a wounded animal, crawling its way toward its own doom. Slowly she pressed herself back to her hands and knees, then shakily to her feet... stumbling slowly and pitifully back toward the locker room, tears visible on her face from one camera angle... her back shaking with sobs, although she did her best to hide both from view of the public.

Nobody enjoyed watching Beyonce crawl her way back to her locker room more than Jennifer Lopez who had just proven to the entire Celebrity Wrestling world that NO ONE was going to put J-Lo into early retirement! She still had what it takes to kick even a young strong beauty like Beyonce’s ass, which was evidenced by the tears streaming down Beyonce’s puffy, smothered, ridden, pounded, and heavily scented face! Jennifer had, for many years, taken on all challengers, from Mariah Carey to Britney Spears, to Carmen Electra, to Pam Anderson and she had beaten them all soundly and smothered them in her larger-than-life behind (all save one - Kate Winslet - who had defeated Jennifer early in her career, then never dared return to the arena). Jennifer’s ass was the best... and it was here to stay... but that surely would not go uncontested.
In the weeks following Hollywood’s biggest booty battle since Mariah vs. J-Lo in the heat of their late 90’s rivalry, much speculation and anticipation swirled about in the Celebrity Catfight media. Jennifer Lopez was once again Hollywood’s undisputed booty queen, but who would dare step up to challenge her? In the modern world, it was rarely acceptable to have a booty with any size to match Jennifer’s (with very few exceptions), and it would be more than an uphill battle for someone of Christina Aguilera’s stature... some said J-Lo’s Booty Queen days would then simply last forever.

The powers that be in the Celebrity catfight industry didn’t have time to acknowledge all the hype that surrounded the aftermath of the J-Lo vs. Beyonce fight... at least not at first. They had expected such a high profile fight to cause a stir, but nothing this large... this was bigger than they had ever imagined even something like Britney vs. Christina would be (even though that match had taken place several times... It was when the girls were just getting their starts, and no definitive better has ever been determined). The commissioner of the league had gotten phone calls from everyone from Pam Anderson, wondering when they were going to top list her return to fight for the Tit Queen title... to Kelly Clarkson... who was thinking about making a bid into the league and was volunteering to take on J-Lo as the next contender to which the commissioner had to reply “Honey... you’ve got the booty, but you’re new at this...she’ll take you apart!”

To complicate matters for the commissioner, Jennifer had decided to take a month off from the wrestling circuit (most likely to marry the author of this story... HEY! IT’S MY STORY DAMMIT!), but she had promised to return for the Holiday Season specials. What to do... what to do...

The Meeting:

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do!” the commissioner mused, sitting behind her desk, her long, flowing red hair cascading down the back of her business suit. In truth she had merely taken this job last year because she liked the way she looked in suits like this. Sometimes she was conceited like that. Besides she had lots of experience in catfighting and could easily deal with the moody... and sometimes altogether rude celebrities that burst into her office demanding this or whining about that. She could sympathize with them: She knew how high emotions could run, especially when you had had your fill of other girls racking your bones and shoving mostly unmentionable body parts into your face over and over again. It had happened to her more times then she would like to mention.

Now, however, she had been faced with a dilemma that was far beyond the scope of her normal range of problem solving. Now she had to find a way to please the League, its members, its viewers, and still allow J-Lo her month long hiatus from the sport; which must occur at all costs because she was the last person the league wanted to piss off. She held all the cards because she held the title, and with it, the ratings and the ticket sales.

“Why don’t you have a contender’s match?” Anna Nicole Smith spoke up from the other side of the commissioner’s office. She was sitting on the couch, staring at the commissioner’s back, sipping on her Jack and Water. “You know, like to see who’s gonna face Jen when she gets back?” Anna arched her back and raised one brow, looking for some response from the all too silent, flame-tressed executive.

Just as Anna was sure that her idea had been either ignored or totally dismissed, she heard that familiar petite and sexy voice come from behind the big leather chair, “Anna, we already thought of that... but the choices are just so slim... and we can’t make one without breaching anothers contract or pissing somebody off and then it’s just more headaches and bitching and moaning... Nothing ever gets done!” The redhead’s shoulders slouched as she let out a defeated sigh. “OK... so don’t pick any of them... dig deep... there’s gotta be somebody out there who is dying for a chance to prove herself... And all we need is one good contender’s match! So what if she’s inexperienced and gets slaughtered... that makes for good ratings anyway right?”

“You know Anna...” Eve Ellis smiled as she spun her big leather chair around, facing the much larger blonde, a smile creeping across her deep crimson lips, “... you might just be on to something!”
Jenna gets a Phone Call:

For Jenna it was that really beautiful... really peaceful time of year when sleep was so easy to come by. The summer was giving way to fall and the leaves on the big oak right outside her window were changing colors. She could sleep with the windows open, just as she had this night, and in fact liked to do so, especially when it stormed much like it had that evening.

She had sipped a final glass of expensive wine outside on her deck and then leisurely climbed into her large, luscious bed, the scent of wet leaves and grass wafting in from the big open window. She quickly fell asleep, and sleep was peaceful, just as she had expected it to be, although it really shouldn’t have been. The bills were starting to mount up, the way they do when you are a fairly unknown, out of work, former child star. If she didn’t find a new gig soon, she’d be out of luck and out of a house. But tonight that was the last thing on her mind. The scent of leaves brought her back to a time when she had been privy to a great amount of fame and fortune. You know... they say SCENT is the strongest sense tied to memory!

She slept like a baby that night and barely moved in her bed, so it was no surprise that she didn’t hear the phone ringing the first time... or the second... or even the third. Finally, the fourth phone call roused Jenna from her deep sleep and sent her scrambling across the floor in a half daze, searching for the telephone. She reached it just in time.

“Jenna? Did I wake you?” It was the voice of her long time agent, Becky.

“No... no... I was just watching TV!” She lied, quickly realizing that she had slept in and was semi-embarrassed of the fact.

“Well good honey! I’ve got some exciting news for you! I got a phone call from Eve Ellis last night! Do you remember Eve?”

Jenna, only half awake, and having only met the young, vibrant redhead once did not, “No... who’s that?”

“You met her at a Christmas party last year... I introduced you. We talked about some ‘business’ options! Remember?”

Suddenly the conversation came flooding back into Jenna’s mind... talk of Jenna joining some wrestling league... Eve saying she’d think about it. Jenna thinking it was all nickel and dime, until she heard the names of the women involved. “Oh yeah! The wrestler...” Jenna mused, “No... actually, the commissioner of the league... former wrestler!” Becky interrupted, “Anyway... she’s reconsidered our offer, and thinks that it is more than reasonable... She wants you to come in and see her in her Miami office... tomorrow!” The two remained on the phone for the remainder of the hour, working out the travel arrangements, then Jenna went to pack.
Beverly Mitchell had never seen a vase fly before. But then again, she had never seen her former costar Jessica Biel this angry. The vase slammed into a large picture mirror on the wall, smashing it into a million little reflective pieces that made a distorted mosaic of the two young beauties as the scattered across the floor. “Jessica... calm down!” Mitchell raised her arms up in the air, palms outstretched.

Beverly had tangled with Biel on more than one occasion and she had no intention of stepping in her way. Jessica was the first girl she had ever fought and to date, the one who had given her the worst beating. The first woman to smother her into unconsciousness was Biel (Not surprising considering Biel’s fascination with her own shapely hind quarters). She remembered the fight well, and did not care for a repeat performance. After all... didn’t we say SCENT was the strongest sense tied to memory?

“I’m not going to calm down... I don’t have to calm down! They screwed me over Bev! This is such bullshit!” Tears were welling in her pretty eyes, puffy from having cried for so long already.

She grabbed the remote and launched it at her TV, surprisingly, smashing the glass screen, causing even more slivers of shiny material to litter the floor.

“Jessica... It’s not like they are telling you that you can’t fight her... they just want a little preliminary battle!” Beverly said, trying her best to console the enraged warrior, while making sure she kept a safe distance.

“It’s not the fight that angers me... it’s the opponent! They’re putting me up against some no-name! like I’m not important enough to fight Jennifer or something. Do you know who this girl is? She was on ‘Blossom’! Fucking Blossom! You believe that?” Jessica made a ‘hmmmmphhh’ noise and crossed her arms, staring down at the floor.

“Actually... she didn’t play Blossom... she was Six... her friend!” Bev tried to inject some humor into the situation before Jessica boiled over, “Godddammmittt! I hate that carrot top bitch!” Jessica rammed her foot into the side of the broken TV, cursing the league’s new commissioner, causing it to tumble to the floor. “Listen, Jess... If she’s a nobody, with no talent, she should be easy pickins’ for you... right? You can make an example out of her, and then they’ve promised you a title shot!” Mitchell sat down on the couch, motioning for her friend.

“I suppose you’re right! Besides... I deserve a title shot at that Puerto Rican whore! My ass is MUCH better'n hers!”

Jessica finally broke into a small smile, taking a seat next to Beverly on the couch, “Well, I’ve never been under hers so I really can’t make an informed decision!” Beverly joked. Jessica responded with a playful pillow toss towards her former costar, “Thanks Bev... thanks for coming!” She reached her arms out towards her companion.
Commissioner Eve Ellis sat in her office, pondering the events of the last few days and how well she had handled herself. She leaned back in her chair as the clock over her head struck 11:00 PM, relaxing and thinking of how - when her limo returned from dropping Jenna Van Oy at the hotel that the league had so graciously booked for her - she could go home and celebrate avoiding one of the greatest disasters of modern catfighting history, and having turned a profit while doing it! Little did Eve know that, before midnight, she’d be in the hospital! Below in the street, Eve noticed a long black limo speeding into the parking lot of the office building. Good boy! She'd told him to hurry, but now that he arrived, she figured he could wait a few moments longer while she enjoyed her triumph a bit longer. Then her cell phone rang and Eve picked it up,

“Tony hun, I’ll be right down!” she lied.

“Umm, actually Miss Eve... I’m calling because we are stuck in could be a while; I haven’t even dropped Miss Van Oy off yet!”

Eve sat in her chair puzzled, “Mmmmm... Oh, OK Tony,;just hurry back! Got it?”

“Yes Ma’am!” and then ‘beep beep’ her phone was dying... she hit the ‘end’ button and went to press the nine button, to dial security... someone was in the parking lot who shouldn’t be there but just as she pressed 'nine', the screen went blank.

“Damn cheap Japanese pieces of junk!” she cursed as she slammed the dead phone on her desk, opting instead for her desk phone - which she would never reach! As her well manicured, alabaster hand crept across her desk toward the receiver, her office door swung wide, the handle smashing a hole in the plaster wall, leaving an indentation and holding the door fast against the partition. In the doorway stood none other than the young, confident Britney Spears, hands defiantly placed on hips, scowling in the way only someone as sweet and innocent looking as Britney can scowl.
“You whore!” Britney venomously spat between her tightly clenched lips.

Eve calmly slid back in her chair, propping her feet up, “Now isn’t that the pot calling the kettle a skank?” that same evil smile sliding delicately across Eve’s deep red lips.

“You knew I had a score to settle with both of those bitches!" Britney ranted. "I was next in line for a title shot! My contract says so!”

Britney, never one to be misinformed when it came to promoting herself as the center of attention (and that’s what it’s really about for her now, money is no longer a problem or motivation), took a few steps forward until she was actually standing in Eve’s plush office.

“Well, we had to alter your contract a little!” Eve smiled, rolling her eyes at the youngster’s naively.

“Why? Why did you have to do that?” Britney looked like she may be on the verge of tears,

“It’s better business bitch! You’re gonna have to sit this battle out till after the Holidays!” Eve took her long pantyhose covered legs off the desk, leaning forward, tilting her eyes up to Britney’s.

“No bitch... that’s where you’re wrong! The only thing I’m going to have to sit out... IS YOU!” Britney took three, increasingly larger, increasingly more menacing steps toward Eve, her young, shapely body, clad in a tight mini skirt and a tank top, looking more and more imposing with each passing step. She reached out her hand and Eve recoiled from Britney’s advance, but the hand was aimed at the executive’s phone, not her throat. Britney yanked the cord from the back of the black desk phone, holding it up to the side of her face and smiling like one of those actors from a soap commercial. “There, now I won’t be interrupted!”

“Listen Britney," Eve protested. "It doesn’t matter now, we’ve already...”

BAM! The redhead’s explanation was cut frighteningly short by the Pop diva’s small fist, colliding with her alabaster jaw. The force of the blow spun the commissioner’s big leather chair around and deposited the skirt wearing executive on her hands and knees, on the floor. The teeny-bopper advanced on the fallen beauty and swung a massive kick, afforded by a dancer’s leg, to the other side of Eve’s jaw, sending her straight into the air and straight back down onto her back. The dazed beauty’s eyes stared glassy and unmoving up at the ceiling. In fact, no part of her nubile body moved - save her breasts which were barelyu covered by her thin white blouse and thrust up and down with each ragged breath. Britney’s eyes lit up the way they always do when she knows that it’s her turn to play with her defenseless prey. Just like the proverbial cat toying with its captured, clawless mouse, Britney advanced on the red-haired executive, stepping one leg sexily over her heaving chest and sinking down until her firm round ass rested on Eve’s spasming tummy as, with mock compassion, she reached down to brush the hair away from Eve’s unresponsive face.

“Awwww... poor baby... Did big bad Brit hurt you? Well, it’s far from over honey... next time you’ll think twice about fucking me over!”

The arrogant pop sensation then reached down and smacked Eve’s face hard, snapping it to one side. Eve was aware, totally aware, yet there was absolutely nothing she could do…her body simply refused to respond to her commands. She hadn’t been ready for either of the blows she had just received, and she was in a state of near total shock. Her body reacted to her position, and the pain now burning in her jaw, in the only way it could. A single tear ran down her pallid cheek and splashed to the plush carpet.

It was the little things Britney had learned to appreciate in life and the single tear of a helpless... proud (or once proud) opponent was certainly one of those little things that she just “appreciated the hell out of.” She reached forward, taking her time to slowly undo the now coughing and squirming commissioner’s blouse, taking it one button at a time, as though she was making sure not to wrinkle the fabric. When she reached the final button, she splayed the shirt open, baring the ex-wrestler’s pale midriff and matching full breasts, barely contained by a very thin white bra. She then expertly, and without reservation rent the bra open with her claws, coaxing a surprised utterance from her victim’s ruby lips, now accented by a slight trickle of blood from the corner.

“Mmmmmm... Britney’s gonna have fun crushing these!” the Pop Queen purred; the light in her eyes shining.

Eve could only utter low moans while the younger girl slid off to her right side, forcing one of her toned, tan legs underneath of the executive’s lithe back, the other stretched across her tummy. Eve could not lift her head to see what was transpiring, but she recognized, all too well the feeling of two, soft, supple youthful thighs sliding, flesh against flesh up to, and over her breasts... the warmth of Britney’s crotch very apparent against her ribcage. She knew that next she would feel the squeeze. Britney knew exactly Eve was experiencing; in fact, she’d worn this skirt for precisely that reason. She knew the horror of feeling two bare thighs constricting around your prized (and in some cases expensive) breasts and she also knew the feeling of dominance and sexual power of two large, full breasts mushroomed against your naked thighs. That’s why she locked her ankles as her dancer-strong legs contracted, squeezing the commissioner’s large, supple breasts flat against her constricted ribs. Eve let out what air she had in her lungs in the form of a murderous scream, her eyes as big as golf balls, her hands clawing the carpet, uselessly.

“How’s it feel Eve? You feel real big and powerful now don’t you? Feel like the big executive that makes all the decisions? You sure don’t look like the big and powerful commissioner; you look like a scared little girl to me!” Britney was the master of psychology and everyone who’d ever faced her had to admit she knew precisely how to get inside your head, win... lose... or draw!

Eve was now privy to that same knowledge as Britney’s words struck like daggers at her heart. Maybe she did just like to dress up and pretend she was Ms. Hot Stuff. Maybe that’s why she took the job. Maybe she had become too drunk with power. She’d have plenty of time to think that over in the coming weeks, from her hospital bed. Britney continued to squeeze, now pulsing her legs... alternating between contracting and releasing, but the whole time making sure top keep her hated foe breathless. Interesting how a predator destroying her pray can be so beautiful... as if everything was working just the way it should be... even though the outcome is meant to be the eventual undoing of the oh-so-beautiful victim by the oh-so-sexy victor. She reached down, grabbing Eve’s arm and yanking it up between her breasts, using it for leverage as she smashed her tits flat against her chest, pushing the former wrestler’s rib cage to its max. Britney began to grunt with each pulse, sweat now forming on her brow, chest, and thighs as she crushed with all her might. She had not come to Eve’s office tonight with the intention of negotiating a new contract, nor with any hopes of getting signed for a title match. She came to hurt the woman responsible... and so far, she was doing a good job.

The redhead had fought many girls in her life time, and she had been scissored by some of the best, but never had she felt pressure like this between someone’s thighs. She tried to scream, nothing came out. She kicked her legs uselessly, trying to alleviate the pain, involuntarily arching her back... beginning to look more and more like a woman having a seizure than a powerful sports executive. She was desperate and appearances, which had been so important just five minutes earlier, were thrown to the wind as she did her best to accommodate the crushing pressure of the bitchy Pop Princesses powerful thighs. She had been fighting it for so long, not wanting to give the young girl the satisfaction of seeing her cry, but she could no longer hold it in as tears slowly began to stream down her face.

“That’s it bitch! Cry for me! Cry for Britney you ugly…fucking…copper top…lesbo!” Britney punctuated her words with more agonizing palpitations of her legs, the heat from between her legs nearly almost as unbearable as the devastating power of her thighs.

Britney was clearly excited by her dominating performance... and it was also clear that she would stop at nothing short of broken bones! Britney wrenched up hard on Eve’s arm, squeezing tight, using all the muscles below her waist as she did... her smooth thighs becoming bars of steel with the compression. Eve’s eyes bulged as the pressure on her ribs reached a level she thought for sure her body could not withstand, but unmercifully it did. So Britney relaxed her legs, preparing for another squeeze. Eve, fear burning deep in her eyes filling Britney’s very core with delight, looked deep into the pop star’s gaze... searching deep down for some sympathy... some compassion...

Eve silently mouthed two words, “Please no!”

But Britney heartlessly and coldly replied, “Hell YES!” as she repeated her massive python like maneuver, yanking hard on the commissioner’s arm and squeezing her thighs tight, smashing Eve’s once beautiful breasts flat against her chest again.

This time was different though... this time Britney held on seemingly forever, the muscles in her lower body tense, her side nearly up off the floor. She looked deep into Eve’s frightened eyes and gave it her final all, wondering how much abuse the ex-wrestler’s ribs could actually take when she suddenly heard a dull *POP* and her prey convulsed violently.

Immediately Britney released the broken warrior, allowing her to drop unceremoniously to the carpet as she disdainfully shoved the commissioner off of her leg. Eve erratically sucked in air as the pain in her ribs prevented her from taking in the deep breaths that her body so desperately needed. Britney could do nothing but smile as she looked down at the now helpless woman, who moments earlier had dangled her advantageous position in the diva’s face like so much raw meat. Meat that Britney had taken from her easily... meat that she now intended to shove right back down the cocky executive’s supple throat. Eve was squirming slightly, much like a fish out of water, doing her best to bring in much needed air and keep the pain in her ribs at a minimum. She tried to suppress the sobs that were naturally coming to her, because they were just too painful. Her breasts were red and swollen, her eyes blood shot, as one hand repetitiously clenched and unclenched against the carpeted floor.

Most women would have been done with the pathetic looking Eve at this point, but Britney was not most women. No... Britney was something else entirely. She was, at this moment, a machine of vengeance, hell bent on making Eve pay for excluding her from the upcoming contender’s battle. She strode quickly across the carpet in her now bare feet, over to the wall behind Eve’s desk. She retrieved the frame from the wall that contained Eve’s commissioner’s certificate. Sauntering back to the fallen redhead she again straddled her waist, this time holding the picture frame in front of the fallen woman’s face.

“You see this bitch! This is precisely what I think of this!” Britney hissed as she swung the frame at the corner of the cherry wood desk, smashing the glass and getting a small whimpering reaction from the barely conscious ex-fighter. Britney again held the frame in front of Eve’s face. “And here’s what I think of your so called authority!” She reached her hand around the frame... Eve let out a wounded, gurgling cry as Britney’s nails ripped the well matted piece of paper from its confines, feeling as though she had ripped Eve’s very heart from her chest. The executive twisted under the sexy, dominant beauty but was in no shape to make any real progress. “And this... is precisely what I think you can do with your DAMNED CONTRACT!”

Britney discarded the frame, suspending the piece of paper in the air, directly above Eve’s upturned face as she ripped it into two pieces long ways. Eve began to sob loudly, adding to the pain in her ribs as her whole body convulsed with her loud cries of agony and humiliation. Britney was tearing her life up, right in front of her face. Britney again ripped the paper in two... and then again.... Finally, grabbing her hated enemies face with one hand, and using the other to stuff the smaller pieces between her crimson lips, stuffing her mouth with the destroyed paper.

The Pop Princess got back to her feet and Eve, believing her torture was finally at an end, let her head slump to the side, not daring to spit out the pieces of her ruined certificate...and began to cry in earnest once again. But even with her eyes closed, Eve knew something was wrong when a shadow was once again cast across her face... maybe Britney wasn’t done!

When the redhead opened her eyes she was treated an up close and personal... up-skirt view of Britney’s arrogant ass as the pop diva slowly worked her young, sexy hips back and forth, coaxing her teal thong down her thighs. She high stepped once, bringing her foot down on the other side of Eve’s head and stepping out of her thong, sliding it saucily down to her high heeled ankle and off. Eve could only watch in frozen horror as the teen queen, facing her conquered foe’s feet, dropped to her knees slowly, savoring every moment of her rival’s fear and humiliation.

Britney stopped just short of touching down on Eve’s face, bringing her tan, round, supple ass into perfect view for the beaten beauty. Slowly she reached back and adjusted her skirt over Eve’s eyes, taking one last look at her tearful, pleading expression before it was covered by her expensive skirt. Spears slowly lowered her beautiful ass down... not bothering to use her hands to adjust Eve’s pretty face, rather searching her ass left and right until she was able to capture the commissioner’s nose between her haughty, self important, but well respected cheeks. Eve was learning what many others in the business were already too well aware of: A dancer’s ass is a dangerous ass...

Although Britney was famous for her tit smother, she was no slouch in the booty smothering department either (a skill she‘d secretly been developing since her Tit Smother Queen title had been abolished...indefinitely). There were few who could ass smother so completely, so humiliatingly, so condescendingly - and so egotistically - as Britney Spears. She spent long hours making her ass perfect and making her smothers even more so, practicing vainly in front of one of many walls covered with mirrors in her private gym...and she intended to let her opponents know both.

Eve’s nose slid effortlessly deeper into her tormentor’s ass. Under other circumstances she would have counted herself lucky to be mounted by such a prominent star... but at the moment, all she could think about was her humiliation, her pain, and the certificate that was still in her mouth. Her experience was deteriorating by the moment. Already she was having trouble drawing breath, her ribs being in their present state, but now her face was covered by the queen of pop’s smothering ass and she was unable to draw any breath at all. In her days as a wrestler, she had been in this position many times, but never had she been in this position with broken ribs, and she was unable to make any move to save herself.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, this was the easiest facesit Britney had ever performed, and one of the most fulfilling. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the battle... or rather one-sided beating her ass was perpetrating on Eve’s face. She worked her butt back and forth, up and down, all the while making sure that Eve’s snout stayed in its proper place.

“You like that commissioner? Was it worth it? Was it worth getting your ribs broken? Was it worth getting my ass rubbed all over your face? Well enjoy it bitch!” Britney taunted, rubbing in her easy victory quite literally, spreading her scent across Eve’s pale face. She stopped intermittently to relax her ass, allowing it to further engulf and humiliatingly surround the commissioner’s pretty face. Britney could feel the bridge of Eve’s nose butting up against her tailbone. It followed the curvature of that famous ass plunging deep between the two ambitious cheeks, the protruding end of her muzzle pressing humiliatingly deep into Britney’s conceited booty. “You should consider yourself lucky... lots of girls would kill to sniff my ass!” Britney laughed at her own unanswered barbs.

All the while, the teeny-bopper remained ever vigilant, knowing it would be much harder to tell, with Eve in her weakened condition, precisely when she passed out. The pop diva’s ass slowly overwhelmed and engulfed the pasty copper top’s embarrassed countenance, literally absorbing Eve’s identity in the warm, sweaty, musky prison of her dominant ass, turning her into nothing more then Britney’s own personal thong. Deliberately, Britney worked her well toned, well trained ass over her opponent’s face until finally, she was sure that Eve was out cold, smothered beneath her gorgeous behind. She pulled her sweat-slick ass off the defeated executives features, leaving her face marked with Britney’s unmistakable scent and a thin film of ass sweat.

“Don’t ever fuck with me again... or next time...” she reached down, grabbing Eve’s slack jaw. “…it’ll be worse! MUCH WORSE!”

In the height of her vanity, Britney disdainfully plucked a few pieces of Eve’s certificate off of her smooth, flawless ass, the twin mounds of sexy flesh jiggling as she did, and deposited them back on her face before leaving her out cold on the floor. Near her lifeless, scented face lay Britney’s discarded thong.
Crouching Winner... Hidden Face:
Jenna Van Oy was ready to nestle down for another one of those easy, restful sleeps, just as before. She sat in her plush hotel room (courtesy of the league), in a plush robe (courtesy of the hotel), and waited for room service to arrive (courtesy of jet lag and an early lunch). Soon, the bill collectors would stop calling, her name would be back in lights, and she could once again feel like the successful young woman she knew she was... but still, she was not quite at ease. Eve hadn’t wanted to discuss the particulars of the match, as Jenna had expected. The subjects they had discussed were fairly obvious and Jenna had expected most of them. She would be expected to wear a skimpy outfit. Her top probably wouldn’t remain on the whole time, and she would be facing a girl close to her age... a name she knew well: Jessica Biel!

What she didn’t know was how long she would have to fight... what was allowed and what was not... and how she was supposed to win. Was it a pinfall? Or a submission? She had seen such things in pro wrestling and she expected her bout to be similar, even if it was to be slightly more vulgar.

When she had made her concerns known to Eve, she had just smiled and said, “Let’s sign the paperwork tonight... we’ll worry about details tomorrow!”

Jenna knew that was bad business, but she was so desperate that she didn’t want to chance ruining her opportunity. Besides, it was probably mostly fake anyway... I mean... would big names like Britney Spears, Jennifer Lopez, Carmen Electra, Jessica Biel, and countless others really risk their careers and their pride for prize money? What Jenna didn’t realize was that it wasn’t about the money to them... it was about ego... and dominance... and excitement... and sex... And the answer was: YES they would risk all for that…as Jenna would soon learn.

While waiting for room service she made a quick call to her agent, expressing how uneasy she was with Eve’s cryptic question dodging.

“... And all I really wanted to ask was you know... when do she and I practice before hand... and does one of us give... or pin the other or...” a concerned voice began to explain things slowly, but realistically and coldly from the other end of the phone.

“But... what about...” Jenna’s face changed from it’s cute ‘six-like’ smile to that of a concerned young woman. Her mouth opened, but no intelligible sound came out. “Wait, wait... you mean like...” again her sentence stopped short of making any sense. “What do you mean…SMOTHER?!” Jenna’s eyes widened. “No... no... I know they aren’t paying me all that money for nothing but I didn’t know...” Jenna’s voice began to sound whiny. “No... no... I know I need the money. Yes... but I don’t want to be on the wrong end of that... that’s just disgusting. I need a trainer... need to get in shape... and I need to learn how to do... you know... THAT!”

And a trainer was exactly what she got... and train was exactly what she did. Jenna learned the ins and outs of physical fitness, wrestling, boxing, and a little plain ‘down and dirty’ street fighting. Yet, the most frightening part of her training, and possibly the most important came when Jenna’s doorbell rang one cold Saturday afternoon early in November. She had weighed her options when it came to learning exactly how she was to “use that booty” to win her upcoming match. She had spoken to several fighters from the ‘adult’ fighting industry. She had tried to contact current members of the league. She even made a few phone calls to a South American source that swore the availability of a veteran fighter that could come to America for a “small fee” and train her in the art of smothering.

But for Jenna that’s what it all came down to... the money. She didn’t have the money to pay for any of that, and her connections as an actress had slowly fizzled away thanks to her virtual inactivity in the entertainment community over the last few years. She knew she was in trouble... but as the human mind usually does, she’d convinced herself that it was “No big deal”. I mean... how hard could it be? If you got enough flesh back there (which she was sure she had), all you gotta do is drop it on there and wait till the bitch gets quiet... REAL QUIET!

The idea made her shiver. She had not wanted a ‘booty queen’ contender’s match... although the dollar signs were significantly more attractive then a regular exhibition. But was it worth the possibility of having a close encounter with Jessica Biel’s backside? And not only would it be the first time she had ever experienced something like that... she had seen tapes of Jessica’s matches. She knew how much pride Jessica took in her hind quarters, and Jenna was sure that she intended to make an example out of her inexperienced face. Again the shiver... and that’s when the bell rang. Jenna nearly jumped out of her flesh when it did... she quickly composed herself and opened her door, wearing that cute, innocent smile... and that quickly faded.

In her doorway stood the imposing figure of none other than the booty queen herself, Jennifer Lopez.

“Je...Jen...Jennifer... What are you doing here?” Jenna babbled, her voice starting to shake. Speak of the devil and she shall appear... and indeed... SHE HAD.

“I heard about your little Holiday sweeps match-up. You got set up hun... I took a vacation and you get to be the fall girl... I can’t let that happen. Those bitches will get what’s coming to them, but first thing is first... You’ve got a lot to learn!”

Jennifer stepped in Jenna’s house, god her ass looked scarily smothering up this close... Funny, Jenna had never thought to describe an ass as “smothering” or “not smothering” but since the epiphany of her fate, she found herself constantly rating other girl’s asses by those standards. That skinny little blonde at the pool: Not Smothering. That Latina girl in stretch pants that read “Cali…” on one cheek and “…fornia” on the other at the gym: Smothering. Jennifer tossed the duffel bag that she held on her shoulder into Jenna’s foyer, and disappeared into the shadow of her hall as the door closed. And so began the lesson... and the screaming... and the pain... and embarrassment... and anger... and passion... and rage. And so it was, day after day for the next few weeks: Jennifer would show up at 11:00 A.M. and she’d leave at 11:00 P.M. and in the mean time Jenna would be taught to smother... and be smothered by the best. She’d cry, and beg, and scream, and moan... but most importantly... she’d learn.

Jenna stared horrified at the television screen. She didn’t say a word, her mouth hung limply on its hinge. She had forgotten all those around her... All those she had invited for her little pre-fight party. She was aware of some noise in the room however, the sound of playful laughter maybe, but mostly she zeroed in on the voice coming from the TV set. On the screen was a topless Jessica Biel, down on her hands, much like she was doing a push up. In her right hand was a cluster of crimped hair. Attached to the end of that hair was the head of Jessica Alba, which was further attached (thankfully) to the rest of her beaten and bruised body that lie tits-down on the sweat covered mat. Her face was showing for the camera as well, thanks to Biel’s helping hand, and it was also covered with sweat, but only part of it was Alba’s. Her mug was red and swollen, having taken one of the hardest face-rides in the history of catfighting. The bridge of her nose appeared as though it were bruised and swelling. Mercifully her eyes were closed and she was out cold.

“See this Jenna?” The voice made Jenna actually jump. Not jump like you do when you are tickled, or when someone screams during a scary movie... jump like when your mother yells at you for breaking the vase... and that was exactly how Jenna responded, as though she was being scolded by her superior. She sat quietly and respectfully in front of the television like a good girl... “This is you bitch! But it’s gonna be worse... say good bye to your pretty face, and hello to my sexy ass!”

Jenna looked as though she was about to answer a timid ‘Yes Ma’am’ to the sweat soaked television diva. The room had grown all but totally silent.

“Ooooooohhh girl... she’s calling you out!” one of her friend’s did her best to lighten the situation. Everybody except for Jenna laughed in agreement.

“Jenna’s gonna have a stinky face!” Another piped in, again humorous to all except Jenna.

“Oh come on Jenna... we’re just teasing ya! It’s all fake anyway!” they laughed, but it wasn’t fake as Jenna knew all too well. If it had been fake, there’d have been no reason for Jennifer Lopez to play hide Jenna’s nose all over her face for the past three weeks. She’d never have had to learn what it meant to be deprived of air until your brain actually shuts down and you pass out, just to preserve life function. She’d never have had to learn what it is like to do that to another (of course, not; she’d hired somebody to be Jenna’s squatting post... but Jenna had the distinct honor of being J-Lo’s!)

Saturday Night Lights:

They passed several very nice doors on the way in. Some decorated, one adorned with a pink fuzzy bunny (she didn’t remember the name on that one), all with gold-plated metal signs that read, “Pamela Anderson”... and “Britney Spears”... and “Salma Hayek”... and “Charlize Theron”... and “Katherine Heigl”.... and on and on and on! But that hallway wasn’t for HER. She turned harshly at the end of the corridor and came to another, slightly narrower, much dingier, darker and damper hallway. It was adorned with the same colors and decorative flooring as the previous one, but the carpet was worn, the walls slightly shabby and the doors here were definitely less “important looking” yet still had engraved metal name markers with names like “Katie Holmes”... and “Laura Prepon”... etc. This hallway too wasn’t for Jenna. Finally she reached the end of this hall and passed through a set of swinging wooden doors, into a very white... very plain, hall with a few rooms that appeared to be access for maintenance crews. The lighting was bare and devoid of fixture. It was harsh and yellow and it cast an eerie glow on a small wooden door that, at first glance would have been shrugged off as the broom closet.

“Here we are!” the ever-so-gracious host piped up when they reached a fragile-looking wooden door with a small paper star taped to it and a strip of white tape with “Jenny Vanoy” scrawled in black magic marker.

“Don’t worry about it Jenna, I’m sure they just haven’t had a chance to make up your permanent one yet,” Becky, her ever-so-plucky agent noted cheerfully to her young talent.

Jenna knew that wasn’t true but just hearing someone say it somehow made it better. But who was she kidding; they’d misspelled her name TWICE!

Their host was an important looking young woman with her hair done up high and tight and a waistband stuffed with expensive toys; a beeper on one side, cell phone on the other and tucked down the ass of her pants was a small walkie-talkie receiver that ran to the headset and boom mic that covered her cute young mouth. She’d seemed very busy and hurried when she met Jenna and her agent at the back door, and now in keeping with that theme she scurried away hastily, nervous as an expectant mother cat.

Jenna started to get a feel for exactly how much the league “valued” her. She’d already guessed she wasn’t necessarily, shall we say, ‘a prime asset’ but it was becoming more and more obvious as she delved deeper and deeper into her new cash-cow. She pressed on the grainy, light, particle board door and it swung inward with a slight CREAAAK revealing a small cold room, with whitewashed brick walls and a bare, gray painted cement floor. The room smelled heavily of chlorine and soap, having all the appeal of a high school gym locker room but without the advantage of its size. She stepped hesitantly in and began to search the walls for a place to hang her clothes... and prepare.

Back in Jessica’s room the story was much different. She lay on her couch, feet propped up, covered by a cranberry personalized bath robe, her fight attire and duffel bag lying softly on the plush carpeted floor. The same young woman who showed Jenna to her room, a producer of some sort obviously, knocked at Jessica’s door and then in a swift fashion let herself into the room, too pressed for time to worry about pleasantry.

“OK Jess, here’s the deal... we announce you first; your pyros are ready, watch the left side of the entrance, gonna be hot... then we announce her, she doesn’t have any ring pyros so you’re cool...” the young eager woman didn’t bother to take a breath... but Jessica quickly cut her short.

“No, no, no... announce HER first... she’s the rookie, not me! I don’t’ wait for anyone!”

The producer’s brow furrowed, “Listen, I don’t have time to go back and tell her that...”

“I DON’T CARE! Announce HER first!” Jessica turned away from the producer, cutting off the conversation. Beverly Mitchell sat at Jessica’s side, her eyes pleading at the producer, as if to say, ‘Just make her happy... nobody wants to deal with her!’ And so it was...

Jenna waited nervously in her little cubbie hole. She wore a lime green two piece that accented her nicely. It was a half back... that settled nicely on the soft cheeks of her ass, perfect, she hoped, for covering one over confident actress’ pointy nose and big mouth. She had never been this nervous before. She had done live TV and live performance a lot in her life... but nothing like this. This night had the chance to turn her life around, start her career anew... or it could potentially be the most humiliating, most life-threatening situation she’d ever been in and she could end up in the hospital. Either way, nothing in her life was going to be the same when she left that ring tonight... or was carried out of it.

She spoke to Becky briefly about what she would do if she lost tonight. She told her that she intended to continue wrestling for the league and sign a new contract. She also told herself that, but she doubted that it was true. If they carried her out of that ring tonight... in pieces as it were... smothered by her opponents prized hind quarters, she doubted that she would ever return to public life again. How could she? She’d be the laughing stock of all Hollywood, and if she continued to wrestle her face might also be its humping post.

“Jenna?” the rickety worthless door creaked open. “It’s time honey!”

Jenna wasn’t sure if that was an invitation or a death sentence... but there was no backing down now. That front hall that had once been so bright and cheery was now dark and long, reminding Jenna of one of those long hospital halls at night that you see in horror flicks. How fitting, because if she didn’t perform well tonight, Jenna was sure that’s where she’d end up.

When they reached the curtain she received her final instruction from her only attending friend tonight, Becky, “Remember, just smile for them, and try your damnedest, all your troubles are over after tonight baby!”


Her music blared as she stepped through the curtains, mini-fireworks going off to her left and to her right. The bright flashes scared her a little. She spooked but quickly regained her composure and made her way into the huge arena. The place was packed. A roar had erupted among the crowd, they were cheering for her... and that made her at ease a little, she smiled and waved. Her walk gained an extra bounce as the camera focused on her ass, half lime green courtesy of a bikini that had ridden up a little as she walked. Jenna smiled all the way down the isle, but as her vantage point changed, she began to hear the drone underneath the high pitched cheering. They were boos... and not just a few... enough that they made a decent underscore to the riotous audience, hungry for fresh meat. And that’s exactly how she viewed them... vultures, and hers was the carcass. But she had been shown nothing but disrespect since she arrived here this evening, and she guessed they really didn’t have any reason to respect her... what had she proven to them? She hopped nimbly onto the ring apron and stepped thru the ropes; the broadness of her ‘Six-grown-up’ bottom apparent as it filled the Jumbo-tron screen.

‘Shame she’s so inexperienced, that booty is a definite contender!’ most thought.

Jenna was a cute girl. She wasn’t a drop dead gorgeous bomb-shell and she had a trace of puppy fat, but she was definitely the girl you could take home to mamma. Her auburn locks framed her face quite well and her cheeks pudged up when she smiled. She could easily become a crowd favorite if her career didn’t end tonight. She was on the shorter side, and nice and full in the hips, perfect to play up the whole ‘scrappy little gal’ angle. Yep... she was a cutie... but the smile was about to fall from her cherubic cheeks.

The lights that were keeping the arena bright suddenly dimmed all at once. “Wake Me Up Inside!” begin it’s first tinkling bars in the darkness. The Jumbo-tron began to glow red... at first only slightly and then increasingly brighter... a face taking shape deep under the crimson... Jenna was mesmerized. As the music picked up a little match footage began to play... and there were things on that big screen that scared Jenna... nasty, nasty things. At the first “WAKE ME UP!” a rain of fire cascaded down toward Jenna from the ring posts, genuinely frightening her a second time tonight as the beautiful, lithe and toned Jessica Biel stepped out from behind the curtains.

It was almost as if Jenna was watching in slow-motion as Jessica struck a pose in front of the entrance. One hand on one hip... Jenna was terrified, Jessica looked like she meant business. Face stone sober... hair pulled back in a tight, no-nonsense pony tail. As if on cue she began a deliberate and uneasily fast walk toward the ring, her narrowed eyes never leaving Jenna’s. She wore nearly mirror silver quarter back bikini bottoms, leaving most of her smooth ass flesh exposed... only a small bit in the middle covered by the mirror-like material. Her top was also mirror silver, barely containing her breasts. The second “WAKE ME UP!” refrain saw Jessica leaping onto the ring apron and then over the ropes, exhibiting the energy she had built up in her for this match. When the fervor calmed, there were only two things left in the whole arena; Jessica Biel and the only thing that stood in between her and the title shot she felt she so rightfully deserved, Jenna!

Jenna smiled at Biel, trying to break the tension a little...but Biel shot daggers back with her eyes as if saying, “I’m gonna knock those teeth down your cum-slut throat before I put my ass on your face bitch!”

Jenna had seen Jessica’s matches and she knew that her opponent was all business, but she really hadn’t expected such a vulgar... or threatening reply from her opponent... silly girl. Hesitantly and cautiously Jenna walked toward the middle of the ring... she put her arms up just like Jennifer Lopez had taught her... Biel finally broke into a slight smile as she approached, arms also extended.

“Listen Jess, I just want you to understand that this isn’t pers...” was all Jenna got out of her mouth before she was face down on the mat when Jessica leveled her with a backhand that sent the young girl diving nose deep in canvas.

“It won’t be personal when I make you sniff my ass!” Jessica retorted, reaching for the rookie’s auburn locks.

In the world of female fighting it’s fairly common to see a girl yanked up by her hair, but only after experiencing such a feeling, can one really appreciate the severity of the pain associated with it. Jenna accumulated that appreciation rather quickly as Jessica led her to her hands and knees, keeping her in that degrading position like a new pet. Hesitating and smiling for the crowd, Jessica exhibited just how cruel she can be, her facial expression never changing as she snapped her knee into Jenna’s jaw, rocking the young beauty’s head as if her jaw were attached by a spring. Jenna’s arms turned quickly to jelly. Unable to focus on anything at all, she sagged toward the mat, her hands lightly pawing the canvas, all her weight supported, momentarily by her hair, until Jessica let her collapse, callously, to the mat.

Jenna lay, mouth open, silent on her belly. The sweat and filth of the evening’s previous matches smeared across the side of her face, eyes glassy. Jessica had expected that the young girl would be an easy match, but not this easy. She wouldn’t let the league get away with degrading her this way. She intended on sending this little bitch home on a stretcher, if not in a body bag, and then maybe the officials that ran this company would start to respect her. Sexily, Jessica put one foot over Jenna’s back and took a seat on her lumbar region. She played her hands up the numb girl’s smooth white flesh and slid one sly finger under the back of her bikini top. Smiling devilishly she hooked her finger into a ‘come hither’ snare and violently and sharply yanked upward, snapping the thin but oh-so-structurally important back into two irreparable pieces, snapping them to either side of Jenna’s supple back. Pure wicked delight shone deep in Biel’s eyes as she snaked her right claw further up her newly found toy’s back and buried her fingers deep into her locks.

As an afterthought, the young starlet leaned forward, her eyes still bright, and whispered into Jenna’s ear, “Time to smile for the camera honey... America’s about to see your titties for the first time!”

Jenna had up until that moment been pretty much out of it, but at the mention of certain public humiliation, she realized what the sensations scrambling around her back had been just moments ago, and her eyes flashed open wide. Jessica, with all the relish of a good little girl opening Christmas presents, yanked back hard on her foes hair, bending her back to a horribly unusual angle. Slowly, Jenna’s full pale breasts were peeled off the grungy canvas mat, gradually revealing them to the camera as it watched hungrily, like a vulture from just outside the ring ropes.

Jenna screamed in a combination of humiliation and searing pain as she was detained at such an angle by her hair, her breasts expanding outward in an ironically proud looking display. She began to gurgle and her head began to involuntarily shake from side to side.

“You see that Eve, you bitch? She’s mine... and until the match is over... there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me! I’ll mail the pieces back to your office!” Jessica ranted directly into the camera, no longer focused on her inexperienced opponent, only interested in making an example for the commissioner.

Not prepared to stop yet, Jessica slithered her other claw around Jenna’s ribs, and sunk her talons into one succulent orb. A new wave of pain tore through Jenna’s body. She convulsed more violently and her babbling became more furious as white hot agony exploded in her left breast. Her entire body undulated and twisted, her cries melting into more of a whimper as her soft flesh yielded to the pressure from the well manicured nails that assaulted her. One of her arms, that had both been clinging tightly to her tormentor’s right hand in a vain attempt to ease the strain on her scalp, shot down to her left breast, prying helplessly at the instrument of torture that was Jessica’s hand. It seemed, to Jenna, to have molded into a steel grappling hook and the more she tugged, the tighter the grasp got until it felt as though her mauled breast would explode under the pressure that was being imposed.

Jessica finally released her hold on Jenna’s hair, only to place the liberated hand on her captive’s other tit. Jenna, throat finally released from the impossible angle at which it had been originally held, let out a full, blood curdling scream... a scream that had not left her lips since she was a child, primal and high pitched. Now she was hand for hand with Jessica, one claw on each of her breasts, her fingers frantically prying at them, looking for some release. Her tit flesh turned even whiter as Jessica squeezed the blood from them, her face turning red as it rushed there instead. The jumbo-tron alternated between a full frontal and rear facing shot as Jenna’s head tossed back and forth, tears now visible on her cheeks as her foe poured on the pressure, grunting with effort while she clamped down on the battered flesh. One moment Jenna’s hair covered her face... the next it was tossed back over her shoulder, a few pieces still in her eyes... then finally her head began to hang further and further forward... hair in her face... until her chin rested against her chest.

“Oh no, no, no... you’re not going out yet!” Jessica growled as she released her breast claw, allowing Jenna to fall face first to the canvas, flaccid. Her tits, flattening out over the mat, glowing bright red as the blood rushed back into them.

Jessica rolled the young starlet over and reclaimed her seat, this time on Jenna’s tummy. Two white hand prints were clearly visible and Jenna’s flushed breasts. Her eyes were even glassier then before. Her head lulled left and right nonsensically. If she had been capable of rational thought at this point, she would have realized that she didn’t sign on for anything like this, but as it were, she was capable of registering only one thing: PURE AGONY.

“Wanna taste some real titty?” Jessica smiled at her beaten foe. Reaching up over her own neck, Jessica’s expert fingers neatly untied the string of her bikini top and let it fall forward, taking her time, disrespectfully in no hurry as she undid the final tie holding the top around her chest. She tossed the top aside and cupped her full breasts as the crowd roared approval, “Mmmmmmm... Nice and sweaty already... Must be the lights!”

The cocky actress didn’t even bother to secure her plaything’s unmoving arms as she leaned forward. Pressing her hands on either side of her tits, she gingerly let them sink onto Jenna’s insensate face. She pressed forward, deeper and deeper, pressing her breasts together, making sure to fill Jenna’s face and breathing passages with flesh and tit-sweat.

Jenna would note later that she didn’t even remember this part of the match. Jessica smiled for the camera as she kept the slightly ajar mouth and cute button nose pressed firmly into her ample bosom, overtaking the beauty’s face with her womanly figure. The beaten beauty’s arms stirred slightly, but Jessica paid them no mind. She wanted to show that she had no reason to be concerned about those arms, and that if she wanted to put her tits in Jenna’s face, she wouldn’t put up a fight, and she was doing a good job. Not really interested in smothering the poor girl, Jessica lifted her tits, only to replace the double trouble smother with a single breast to the face, the camera getting a nice close up of Biel meticulously placing her thick excited nipple directly on the girl’s slightly parted lips before allowing the faintly scented flesh to swallow the glassy-eyed beauty’s entire face.

Biel was not one to quickly tire of abusing her opponent, and she allowed her to breathe again, dragging her nipple up across Jenna’s pretty, sweat covered face, shivering as it brushed all the soft parts. The overmatched girl unknowingly, and graciously sucked in air... the audible gasping all too satisfying for a very dominant and blood thirsty Biel. Finally tired of humiliating a girl who was too out of it to realize she was being humiliated, Jessica returned to an upright position, again contemptuously taking her time deciding how best to proceed with her foes systematic dissection.

Bored with her victim’s lack of response, Jessica simply backhanded the innocent looking face that lay before her and stood. She was most decidedly the dominant force in this “so-called match” however, she did not smile. How could she? She had been denied a title shot, a chance to prove her ass the Masterpiece that she knew it was, and had been side-tracked with this wannabe actress, who wasn’t even making a respectable showing. She was fed up... uninterested.

Reaching deep into the bag of mean nasty tricks that she could pull in order to entertain herself, Jessica once more yanked the pathetic looking former child star to her feet. Jenna’s magnificent breasts swung aimlessly, mimicking her own punch-drunk appearance, the red hand imprints beginning to fade, although they appeared as though they would leave a mark of irritation for some days to come. Her foes tits were a stark contrast, seeming to also mimic their owner in appearance, standing larger and proud, tan and slick, thick nipples protruding forcefully, ready to do battle. Jessica smiled, taking great pride in wrapping her toned arms around her foe, sliding them just under Jenna’s armpits. She leaned her face close to her enemies and smiled deeply, just before she squeezed. The muscles in her arms tensed and bulged and again Jenna was robbed of air, a theme that seemed prevalent to her during her ordeal so far. Her eye-lids shot fully open and she found herself staring deep into the wanton eyes of a predator, tenderizing its prey before the kill.

Jessica was able to lift the young starlet up and off her feet, toes dragging the mat as she raced her quickly backward, gaining as much momentum as she could before ramming the small of the beaten girl’s back into the top turnbuckle. Jenna let out a half scream half cry... her entire body rippling with the aftershocks of the impact, and before her arms and legs could settle, she was again forced into the unforgiving steel, causing less of a scream this time as she again begin to flirt with unconsciousness. Her head lulled, with force and purpose, from side to side, eyes closing a little more with each successive bounce/squeeze from her tormentor. Slowly, the lulling lost its purpose and became more and more lazy, Jenna’s mouth opening in a scream that wouldn’t come, producing instead, tiny fibrous strands of saliva stretched between the top and bottom rows of her teeth.

And just like that, Jessica released her, allowing her to collapse mercifully against the corner, her arms hooked over the ropes, head looking shamefully downward... hair covering her crying face. The sex-kitten of 7th Heaven fame turned towards the crowd, ignoring her deteriorating foe in favor of riling an already riotous crowd. She reached her fist skyward, pursing her lips in a look of total domination, sweat glistening from her clenched knuckles down over her drenched breasts and tummy, all the way to her twinkling little toes. The crowd soared into new heights of approval, truly Jessica was delivering the destruction they desired. Her hand began to form a flat plane, molding into a karate-chop like shape, palm out for the crowd to see. The sexy authoritarian nodded her head up and down, her eyes opening wide in a less-than-sane looking stare. Suddenly the beauty spun her upper body, lightning fast, hair whipping around her head as she brought the knife-edge of her right hand down across Jenna’s heaving and beaten chest. It sounded like fresh red meat slapping a cold kitchen floor.

Amazingly Jenna remained standing, although she shouldn’t have, because it only warranted another such blow, all those concerned with her safety hoping that she would collapse. To their pleasure she teetered forward, but much to their chagrin, she again remained resting on the ropes. The 3rd and final chop sent her rebounding up out of the corner and then mercifully deposited her on her cute, fleshy bottom, shoulder blades against the second turnbuckle.

Jessica reached down into the beaten beauty’s face. Jenna was barely aware of what was happening around her as her would-be executioner grabbed her chin, turning her face upward. She could see Jessica’s lips moving, but she couldn’t make out a word she was saying. Her ears were ringing from the blows and her head was light, the crowd, like the sound of rushing wind, filled her head.

“You are fucking pathetic, you little thong-faced cunt! I’m tired of playing with you... I think it’s time for your nap now!”

Jessica again turned to her beloved audience and smiled, patting her ass with the palms of her hands, ever so lightly. She shrugged her shoulder’s in a very ‘oh well’ sort of way and hooked her thumbs under the waistband of the sexy silver bottoms. She slid them down with excruciating sluggishness. The soft cloth that had been so sexily stretched tight against her ass sagged and slipped over her smooth flesh. The waistband expanded wider following the curve of her hips as the crack of her naked ass came into view. She stopped when the waistband nested snugly into the crevice created by the bottom of her cheeks and the backs of her legs. At this point it was mere formality as Jessica bent forward, her ass expanding wider as she did, the space between her sexy cheeks looking dark, deep, and imposing to a horrified Jenna Van Oy as Jessica backed up, awkwardly.

The crowd was on its feet and every camera angle trained directly on the action that was about to take place in the corner of the ring. There are a few things you never get used to no matter how many times you do them. Like taking exams, no matter how many times you take them, your heart still races every time you sit down with a pencil in hand... or riding a scary amusement park ride... or walking into a dark room...and having your nose stuffed deep in another woman’s ass crack with the intent of humiliating you and smothering you out is one of those things! No matter how many times it happened to Jenna during her training, nothing had prepared her for what she experienced in that corner! An entire live audience and TV audience watched in awe as Jessica Biel expertly slid her proud, protruding, sexy ass directly onto Jenna’s beaten face. She was frozen in terror and was unable to even make a move to change the direction her “cute button nose” was headed. As soon as Jessica’s ass touched down, however, and her senses flooded with the girl’s robust hind quarters, Jenna’s body reacted as though given a quick jolt from an electric chair. Her legs and arms flailed once... her head recoiled against the turn buckle... but there was nowhere to go.

She did her best not to take in the semi-familiar, yet definitely distinct scent of Jessica’s ass, but it was a vain attempt. She quickly shoved her hands up against the fleshy globes that covered her face, almost too disgusted to even push her own palms against them... but Jessica was no amateur and she was securely anchored against the ropes. She couldn’t help but giggle as her body lurched forward a bit and then her ass settled right back against the trapped nose of her humiliated foe. Jenna began to panic. Her head was too full. It was already cloudy from a vicious beating and now she could add the humiliation of her current situation, the fear of being smothered into unconsciousness, and the rather pungent aroma of a decidedly sexy actress’ sweaty behind. Jenna kicked her legs and pressed forcefully on the hind quarters that were mashing her pretty face, but to absolutely not avail. Musky heat and perspiration encompassed her nose and mouth, swamping her breathing passages and holding her breath hostage. Slowly her world began to spin....darker... her arms dropping to her sides...

Jessica noticed her foes arms collapsing. Up to this moment she had remained nearly perfectly still, enjoying the feeling of this perky little bitch’s perky little nose pressed DEEP against her asshole. At the moment her hands fell however, Jessica smiled a malevolent smile, and held her finger up to her lips in a hushing motion. She grabbed the ropes, securing herself tight and RAMMED her wide ass backwards scrubbing it left and right across Jenna’s face, bringing her “back into the fight” as it were, her arms moving back up, pressing against the offending body part, trying to alleviate pressure.

“I always keep my promises bitch! SMELL YOUR DEFEAT!” Jessica smiled; basking in the message that she felt she was sending the league corporate.

They would never again slight her as they have in this match. She had soundly defeated this girl and now she was making... WAIT! She hadn’t kept all of her promises. AND she had a better idea of how to send the league a message. Suddenly she stepped forward, no longer satisfied that she had made a sufficient example of Jenna who collapsed forward, her face brushing across the ass that had just pounded it before she slammed into the dirty mat, not sure which was more disgusting to be pressed against. She rubbed lightly at her face, with what strength she had, gasping for air and desperately (and vainly) trying to relieve herself of Jessica’s womanly scent.

Meanwhile Jessica sauntered over to the ringside table, calling for a mic, then turned to Jenna and spoke in excited tones, “Jenna... honey, I almost forgot! I promised I’d knock those filthy little teeth ‘down that cum-slut throat’ didn’t I?” she asked rhetorically. Jenna heard the comment but she was unable to respond. She simply lay crying and squirming face down on the canvas. “Well, as we all know, I ALWAYS keep my promises!”

Jessica placed a kick to Jenna’s side with one long sexy leg, depositing the young girl on her back. This last comment made even some of the crowd members uneasy. Surely she did not intend to really follow through. This was going just a little too far. But as Jessica took a seat on the beaten girl’s tummy, laying the mic next to her head, it became all too apparent that she wasn’t kidding. The dark beauty, now lusting for some way to permanently damage the young beauty, blinded by the need to feed her appetite for a title shot, wrapped her left hand in Jenna’s auburn hair, cocking her right fist high above her head. Jenna looked into Jessica’s eyes, but Jessica was no longer home... “Please Jess... n...n.. no...” She managed to get out but it was too late and down came Jessica fist, connecting squarely with the girl’s luscious lips, her head thudding the canvas from the blow.

Jenna coughed and turned her head. She spit a tiny bit of blood onto the canvas but thankfully, that was all. A quick check with her tongue confirmed that Jessica hadn’t fulfilled her promise, at least not yet. She had, however, succeeded in bloodying the poor girl’s lip slightly. “That’s it, spit ‘em up!” Jessica reached down and roughly probed Jenna’s mouth with her fingers, like she was selecting livestock for purchase, unhappy to find all of her teeth still intact. “Damn it...”

Jenna could still smell the crazed woman all over her face. But this time, the scent was useful. AS THEY SAY... SCENT IS THE MOST POWEFUL SENSE TIED TO MEMORY! And Jenna remembered her sessions with J-Lo... and the horrible smotherings she took... and all the dirty tactics she had been taught... ‘life savers’ Jennifer had called them. ‘TEETH SAVERS’ Jenna thought.

Jessica cocked her fist back up in the air... high... reaching down this time to spread Jenna’s lips open, baring her front teeth to make them an easy target. Jenna squirmed her head left and right. Jessica fought to hold her target still. By this time Jennifer Lopez had arrived ringside with interim commissioner Anna Nicole Smith in tow. Officials were there to hold them back, saying that nothing illegal had yet transpired.

“This is TOO MUCH! She’s gone TOO FAR! She’s crazy!” Anna yelled, the officials still barring them from the ring.

“NOW OR NEVER!” Jenna thought, in a desperate rage trying to maintain her looks and snap Jessica back to reality and that’s when she did it!

Jenna’s legs had been left unattended by a title lusting, egotistical, Jessica Biel. She lifted her knee up harder and faster than she ever imagined she could, right into Jessica’s thinly covered crotch. The THUD was audible in the microphone and reverberated around the arena. Jessica arched high into the air above Jenna and collapsed forward, her taught stomach landing over Jenna’s face. Jenna quickly shoved the girl off her and rolled away, spotting the blood off her lips with her hands. Jessica looked like she’d been shot! Her hands were squeezed TIGHT between her thighs and tears welled at the bottom lids of her eyes, threatening to burst the dams and become full fledged rivers down her lovely cheeks. Her legs thrashed intermittently as she writhed face down, rocking, rolling, whimpering, rubbing, and performing any other action that even held promise of relieving the pain in her nether regions.

Jenna, unfortunately, was not fairing much better. She had been rocked by blows to her face and body, a bearhug, a severe camel/clutch tit claw combo, a drowning tit smother, and a humiliating standing ass smother. Her lip was slightly bloody, her tits red with the after affects of the previous assault, her eyes glassy and face sweaty, breathing labored like she’d just run a marathon.

The former 7th heaven star was in too much pain to remove her hands from her pussy. She lurched, like a worm forward. Strangely smiling, cursing Jenna in some unintelligible way, inadvertently spitting on the canvas with her words. Jenna could hear her, as she made her way to the ropes, using them to make it to her shaky legs. It almost sounded like, whatever the curses were, that Biel was laughing painfully between her words. Still laughing!!! In that much pain and still confident... Jenna was incredulous.

As she reached her feet, and attempted to regain her legs beneath her, she noticed that Anna and Jennifer had come to ringside, presumably to her aide. Jenna’s mind flashed thousands of images from her memory: Her training, Jennifer Lopez’ many visits, her contract, even the events of the match thus far... and that usually sweet and innocent face twisted. Her eyes widened a bit. Her mouth became slightly ajar, in what could’ve been surprise. But Jennifer Lopez knew better! She’d seen that look many times on many different faces, and she knew when a look like that crossed a woman’s face, you’d better have a good plan to end it quick! It was the look of reckless abandon rage; of anger long bottled; of flesh covered hell unleashed by one to many blows, or jabs, or verbal abuses, or humiliations. She’d seen it on her sister’s face once when they were teens... and the next thing she saw was the ceiling, from the distinct vantage point of the floor, courtesy of five knuckles.

Jennifer whispered to Anna, and they stepped back, “Let’s see what this girl can do!”

Jenna turned to face her opponent, who was still lying in twisting agony on her stomach, bikini bottoms haphazardly drawn back up over her succulent ass. The very ass that had just unpleasantly graced her belittled face. The young starlet lost control, and abandoned her reason, falling back instead on instinct and robotic training. She let out a wild battle call scream and charged a still cussing and now crying Biel. Her foot slammed unmercifully into the unprotected jaw of the writhing beauty, her head punted like a football, whipping to one side, saliva spewing across the canvas, head coming to rest on the opposite cheek, eyes thoroughly glazed before a stunned silent crowd.

Jessica’s arms went limp, no longer clutching her womanhood. The “wrestler formerly known as Six” reached down knuckles deep in Biel’s ponytail, yanking her to her feet, the tie becoming partially undone, her once neatly sculpted pony tail now hanging half out. Jenna, no longer concerned with maintaining her good-girl image or sweet smile curled her face into a snarl and began peppering Biel with body and face blows. Jabs to the tits rocked her mammaries painfully, a hook to the jaw snapped her head to the side, a few shots to the belly followed by a jab to her beautiful eye, all the while Jessica stumbling backward toward the ring corner, the crowd on its feet.

Jessica was in trouble and not sure how she got there so quickly. She was sure she had inflicted more damage on this little bitch than what she was showing. Her arms hung limply at her sides as she took unanswered blows, too stunned to react, her mind slowly clouded by the smoke left behind from each firework that went off in her brain following the strike of knuckles with her breasts, belly, and face. When her bare back slapped the turnbuckle, she realized the severity of her situation.

Jenna continued to work an unresponsive Biel in the corner, fists smashing her beautiful, toned, tan tummy and supple, exposed breasts. Uppercuts seemed to be the weapon of choice when it came to the beauty’s boobs, each bouncing and rebounding, soft undersides battered and bruised. When Jenna finally rested her fists, her once haughty enemy hung lifeless in the corner. Her eyes were only half open, her mouth in the same condition. Her once proud, firm breasts hung softened from the beating they had endured and the rest of her body followed suit, sexy supple behind planted on the second turnbuckle.

The crowd couldn’t believe the turn of events! Jessica Biel, a veteran fighter had gone from victrix to victim in less than ten minutes, pounded into the corner by a rookie mistake and an even more rookie opponent. Fickle as crowds tend to be, their support slowly began to sway to the newcomer... No longer did they yearn for her education and slaughter, but her glory and perhaps a new beginning.... And Jenna could feel it.

Acting now more for the crowd than despite it, Jenna climbed to the second rope, her belly button now approximately level with the pounded brunette’s face, and once again took hold of the girl’s ponytail, which was now more a tuft of hair, loosely bound at the end, and directed her lethargic countenance upward into her small incoming fist. Again and again she brought her fist down into Jessica’s face, the crowd roaring its approval as their former hero’s face is pounded by the small fist of their new favorite.

When Jenna had finished her facial assault, Biel was barely conscious. Her left eye was swelling a little, her cheek red, maybe bruising, her bottom lip a little fat with the attack. Jenna hungrily reached down to Jessica, yanking her limp arm up and around her neck. She encircled her own arm around Jessica’s neck, tucking her head under her arm and slid one hand ever so gently along the curve of her hip until she reached her silver bottoms. She took special glee in yanking the waistband up, the bottoms wedging themselves in Biel’s scrumptious booty as the young starlet secured her hand hold. With no emotion on her face, Jenna fell faithfully backward off the ropes into the void. She seemed to fall in slow motion until her back and the top of her opponent’s head slammed the canvas simultaneously.

Jessica’s beaten body spasmed and then fell limply to the canvas. She lie on her back, baking under the hot lights, sweaty body motionless save her ragged breathing, swollen and now bruising breasts rising and falling shallowly. Jenna sat up, sweat now pouring off her body. She took the time to adjust her bottoms and look at the beaten girl next to her. She could hardly believe herself the events that had transpired in the last few minutes that had led to the current situation. The woman who had only moments earlier rubbed her proud sweaty naked bottom in her face was now somewhere between awake and out cold, bruised and beaten, a helpless mouse for one pissed off kitty.

Various celebs at ringside squirmed in their seats. Jessica Alba, a small bandage over her eye, face still showing a little swelling from her last confrontation with Biel, smiled at her former antagonists beating. Beverly Mitchell worried for her friend, but secretly, somewhere deep down, enjoyed seeing the spoiled bitch get her comeuppance. Jennifer and Anna whispered quietly back and forth to one another, a look of satisfaction on J-Lo’s face.

Jenna, hunger still not satiated, slipped onto her knees, butt sticking up in the air, tits swaying heavily left and right, the claw marks still visible. She buried her hands in Jessie’s dark locks and pulled the woman’s head to the ring apron. Jessica’s feet shuffled, but there was otherwise no response from the beaten girl. Jenna slid her plump body under the bottom rope, basking in her newfound glory before this crowd, and running on the pure adrenaline of revenge.

Chest heaving with exertion, Jenna reached for the announcer’s table at ringside and cleared the mess of books and papers and electronics from the slick wood grain. The nicely dressed female announcers slid back from the table, both wide eyed and unwilling to stand in this crazed, underestimated, disrespected rookie’s way. A woman possessed, she yanked the table violently from its original spot and slid it against the ring apron. All the insults fresh in Jenna’s mind... boiling her emotions and her intellect.... The sign on her dressing room door, the crowd booing her, the claw hold on her breasts... Jenna stretched across the table, yanking an insensate Jessica half way out of the ring, resting her head and upper body on the table.

The crowd is beginning to get the picture... and it’s a bloody one... and they love it. Jenna stepped on to the ring apron, hoisting her body to a vertical position facing the ring ropes, her succulent, lime green-covered ass jiggling in the crowd’s direction. With all the precision of a ballet dancer she raised her smooth, pale leg up and over her writhing opponent’s body placing it, with some deliberation on the other side of the veteran fighter’s chest. A smile crossed Jenna’s face as fantasy slowly became reality right before her very eyes. She leaned back with a gloating grin on her face and looked over her shoulder, at the barely open eyes that were peeking over the swell of proud ass cheeks. “Jessica... can you hear me honey?” Jenna spoke to her rival for the first time since the tides had turned in her favor.

Jessica silently cursed herself inside. She had this match in the bag, easily... but she had to be cocky... and it cost her. She was roused to the present by the cold table top under her bare back and the angel-sweet voice that was calling her name. When she opened her eyes fully and they focused, the wagging ass of her hated rookie rival came into view, her pretty eyes visible over each cheek like twin rising suns over twin planets... or maybe for Jessica, they were setting suns.

“Mmmmmm... glad to see you’re still awake, I wouldn’t want you to miss how this feels!” Jenna steadily stepped up on the bottom rope with each foot and sprung off backward.

The crowd went silent, as if they were listening for the crunch... The former Blossom star’s ass came crashing down from a significant height right on Biel’s already bruising face. The force of the blow was immense, nearly knocking Biel out, and easily should have broken the table that supported her. And had it broken the table, it would’ve at least provided some release for Biel, but unfortunately for her, it held, and her face took the brunt of the blow. If there were 11,000 people in the arena, 10,999 had a look of total shock on their faces. Those 10,999 included Jennifer Lopez, Anna Nicole Smith….and Jenna Van Oy! Shocked at the ferocity of this little girl, shocked at the turn of events, but most of all shocked at the strength of the particle board table that supported the two battling actresses. The only face that didn’t wear a look of surprise was that of Jessica Biel, instead it wore the sweaty, bikini clad ass of a despised rival. Jenna collected herself and wiggled her ass back and forth, really starting to enjoy her dominant position, relishing, if only briefly, the feeling of her foe’s nose forcing her bikini between her fleshy ass cheeks.

“Guess we’ll just have to try that again, Jessie!” The beaming actress playfully explained her next move to her prey. And shakily she stood on the table, placing her feet on the ropes, rocking all of her body weight down and then back up, springing into the air a second time. Her victim’s face didn’t even turn from its upright position as Jenna sent her beautiful ass barreling toward it again. This time, the SMACK of Jenna’s ass flesh on Jessica’s face was audible and the table held for just a second, a small, timeless pause, and then gave way sending both battler’s to the concrete floor in a heap of splintered wood and twisted steel.

Immediately the bell began ringing... there was no doubt that Biel was out cold, and she probably needed medical attention, but Jenna didn’t look like she was going anywhere except for a ride. Luck would have it that both battler’s had landed on the floor right in front of Jessica Alba’s ringside seat. The shamed battler watched with a satisfied grin on her face as Jenna sat triumphantly on the beaten beauty’s face, granting the unconscious woman reprieve only long enough to yank the back of her bikini bottoms down, baring the lily white cheeks of her ample behind.

Alba laughed aloud and actually clapped as Jenna shoved her now bare ass back into Biel’s face... grinding it down hard, pouring more humiliation and injury onto the helpless and defeated woman’s bruised and beaten face. Her nose disappeared in Jenna’s ass as the rookie reached back with her hands, spreading her cheeks to get a better seal. Biel’s eyes were both starting to blacken and her body spasmed slowly from the lack of air, although she was no longer awake to fight for it.

Jenna’s thrusts became more fervent, and violent, each swipe and circle of her hips becoming longer and more forceful, but the moves were in no way sexual. They were mean spirited, violent, full of hate and frustration. How dare this girl rub her ass in Jenna’s face... how dare she try to knock out her teeth... how dare she claw her breasts... try to make an example out of me? Well I’ll MAKE AN EXAMPLE OUT OF HER!

“DON’T FUCK WITH JENNA VAN OY!” The young girl screamed aloud just as she felt two sets of hands grab her arms and yank her up off the insensate woman’s face.

“Jesus amiga!” Jennifer Lopez exclaimed excitedly at the young girl struggling against her.

“You were gonna kill her!” Anna Nicole Smith added, holding the girl’s other arm as the two veteran fighters brought her into the ring.

“I’m sorry... I got... I got carried away... She just made me so... and then I...” Jenna stopped struggling and tried to explain herself as she was pulled to the center of the ring where the two women flanking her raised her arms in victory.

“It’s OK hun... I understand.” J-Lo whispered in her ear, letting the young actress bask in the glory of her first femfight win.

The announcer’s voice blared her name in the PA system. Flashes from cameras nearly blinded her and the roar of the crowd was deafening. She was back on top. No more bill collectors... no more problems... just lime-light. But then... it all went black...the house lights went down and all were in darkness. A single spotlight shone on the backstage curtain... and a familiar voice played out over the public address. Eve Ellis!!

“Congratulations Jenna... guess you got lucky!” Eve wheeled out from behind the purple curtain in a wheel chair, her chest bound with tight white bandages over her blouse. “And Jennifer... weren’t you supposed to be on vacation?” The chair bound executive questioned coyly. “Let’s see how you spent your vacation Jenny... shall we... maybe it was ‘on the block’ where we are all so annoyingly aware you are from!”

A black and white shot of Jennifer standing on Van Oy’s doorstep showed up on the jumbo-tron.

“Maybe it wasn’t luck after all eh Jenna? Oh God... Jenna, Jennifer, Jessica... you are all so damn confusing... time to put the word queen in front of some names that don’t begin with ‘J’...,” Eve chuckled. From behind the curtain stepped Shakira, moving to the left side of Eve’s wheel chair... then out came Mariah Carey...stepping up to the right side of Eve’s wheel chair. “I believe you ladies know each other...” Eve’s eyes got even brighter and her smile wider than before, “and now Jennifer, I’d like you to meet your replacement... Vida Guerra!”

From behind the curtain stepped a lovely young Latina in a pair of black leather/stretch pants and a matching tube top, revealing her bare midriff, from the looks of the width of her hips, she and J-Lo shared a wrestling specialty. She placed her hands on her hips and stared dead into Jennifer’s eyes. Jennifer had seen her share of newcomers come and go and she had fought her share of virtual unknowns with asses that ranged from tiny to extra-extra large... and soundly beaten and silenced them all... but there was something about this girl... something she didn’t like... a quiet viciousness.

Eve opened a magazine on her lap (funny, Jennifer hadn’t noticed it till now) and began to read out loud, “A fan favorite... young investment banker from New Jersey... frequents the Miami clubs and nightspots, always on the prowl for a booty battle... Move over J-Lo... Vida’s back!”

J-Lo’s eyes got huge... She remembered now. She’d seen this youngster fight before, at a nightclub in Miami. She’d been a vicious and technical fighter, dislocated her opponent’s knee... and she had made threats to Jennifer about being next, turning her thong covered ass to Jennifer and smacking one cheek... “You’ll end up sniffing a real ass puta!”

That was a year ago... what had she been up to between now and then.

“Sound familiar Jenny? Well I’ve granted her a title shot... a booty title shot... screw everyone else’s contracts. At our Hawaiian summer Per-pay-view... You are all hers!”

The trio of booty battler’s from J-Lo’s past, Mariah her old arch nemesis... Shakira, once a new comer just like this Vida girl that Jenny had dealt with roughly... and the newest challenger, Vida Guerra herself... made their way down the aisle as Eve’s cackling laughter echoed over the PA system and a shot of three large asses wiggling in unison as they walked to the ring filled the jumbo-tron.

“Jenna, get the fuck outta here!” J-Lo said, never taking her eyes off the triplet of terror advancing her way... Jenna didn’t answer, something was wrong. Jennifer turned to face the young girl as the house lights came back up, only to see her student crumpled in a sweaty heap on the mat. Anna Nicole was also nowhere in sight... until...

BOOM! The crowd had tried to warn her, but it was just garbled static to Jennifer. Anna Nicole brought the steel ring chair down on top of Jennifer’s head, driving her to the mat on her chest with her blue jean covered ass in the air; her white frilly top disheveled about her shoulders; the strap of her blue thong barely visible over the waistband of her pants. She should’ve known better than to trust Anna...Eve Ellis’ lackey; but she did... and for that mistake she would pay dearly.

The two girls that Jennifer had some previous wrestling experience with (and some bad blood to boot) made it to the ring first. They pulled the barely conscious diva to her knees and began ripping at her clothing. Her white top came off without much trouble, shredded by Mariah Carey’s long nails. Jennifer hadn’t worn a bra for the event, wanting to make a real show for her fans...big mistake! She was now topless, on her knees, long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, jeans and boots all that remained covering her. She flailed her arms quite ineffectively and aimlessly at her tormentors, missing her mark each time.

“Show me her wannabe Latina face!” Shakira demanded of her partner and Mariah got down on her knees behind J-Lo and sank her claws deep in Jennifer’s hair, pulling her head back as though baring her throat for the butcher’s block.

“OK bitch... it’s payback time!” Shakira actually spat in Jennifer’s face and placed a well aimed hook right on her left cheek. Mariah struggled to keep Jennifer’s face turned toward the blonde Spaniard as she followed up with a left hook, this one to her jaw, rocking Jennifer’s world. The Puerto Rican, remaining defiant in her helpless position, arms swinging limply at her sides, hands dragging on the mat, spat blood from a cut gum (thanks to that last hook) right onto Shakira’s belt buckle. “Oh you’re gonna pay for that!” The blonde girl raised her cocked fist above her head...

“NO! Not her nose... I want that in good working condition!” A voice Jennifer didn’t recognize saved her from a direct fist to her face. Her head was spinning... and aching. It lulled from side to side, rolling on the hinge of her neck. Voices and lights, and images intermittently interrupted her foggy, pain clouded brain. Vida had called for her minion to stop and indeed she had, she understood. Vida walked up to Jennifer, bending at the waist, her big ass expanding against it’s constraints as she placed her face right in Jenny’s. The image of Vida’s ass stuck out toward the crowd as she scolded the Booty Queen, who sat suppliant on her knees, looking almost obedient, would grace many periodicals that recounted the event. “It’s over for you Jennifer, your reign is at an end...” she whispered to the booty queen, combing her hand calmly over her dark hair, petting her. “Enjoy your belt while you can, I’m gonna take it from you... and everybody will forget you... and you’ll worship my ass, has-been... with your nose...” she kissed J-Lo on her nose, “and with you tongue...” She kissed her on the lips.

Jennifer made no move to recoil, her face blank. Vida stood up, turning away from the downed veteran, looking as though she was about to leave, but instead spun a roundhouse kick right into Jennifer’s jaw, depositing her face first on the canvas. The crowd began to ‘boo’ but made no real move to stop her, and Eve had made sure no staff interfered. Vida undid her belt buckle and dropped her leather/stretch pants, stepping slowly and sexily out of them as her underlings removed Jennifer’s jeans and boots, leaving her in a blue silk thong, most of her tan, smooth flesh exposed. Vida now down to a black thong and black tube top, showed equally tan and smooth skin, and what many would call an equal ass though Vida would call it better!

Anna Nicole opened the chair she had assaulted the diva with and placed it in the middle of the ring. Vida grabbed Jennifer by the hair and pulled her to her knees behind the chair.

“I’m about to show you exactly what my ass and I can do to you...” Vida placed Jennifer’s elbow on the back of the chair, stepping over the outstretched arm, wedging into between her thighs, against her crotch, the firm flesh of her fat ass resting on Jennifer’s shoulder, just inches from her face. Jennifer was too beaten to make any move to stop this torture, and Eve would allow no interference, she would be Vida’s plaything for as long as she chose. “... anytime I want!” As Vida finished her previous statement, she rose up on tip-toes and brought her big ass down on Jennifer’s shoulder HARD...putting all her weight behind it. Jennifer cried out in a low, almost grunting tone, thankfully hearing no pop, but a horrible grinding, twisting sound. Vida, no detectable emotion on her face at all, lifted her ass, and repeated the maneuver, this time pulling up on the elbow and grinding her ass down. Shakira and Mariah cackled at Jennifer’s pained face and flopping convulsive movements, Vida remained scarily cold. Then, just as Jennifer thought her left arm would be ripped from her body, Vida let go and J-Lo flopped face first to the canvas again; crying loudly and holding her shoulder, repeating some unintelligible cries over and over! The crowd was growing restless with this utterly disrespectful treatment of the champ.

“Put her back on her knees, where she belongs!” Vida said, reaching back, peeling her black thong out from between her ass cheeks. She twisted the thong in her hands until the “ass” of it strung out across her palm. Mariah and Shakira had wrestled Jennifer to her knees. Jennifer’s left arm hung useless at her left side, the other one held behind her back by Shakira, Mariah holding the diva’s head still by her hair. Tears ran down J-Lo’s face... but she was largely out of it now... the pain and beatings becoming too much. She struggled to keep herself awake, knowing that her consciousness alone might be her only way of protecting herself from permanent injury... but she was quickly losing the battle with the darkness at the edges of her vision. “I’m about to show these people your proper place... with your face in my young firm, sexy ass... Your saggy ass is finished in this business! You want a preview?” She held out the hand covered with her black thong... No answer from the barely aware Latina.

“Answer her!” Shakira slammed a fist into Jennifer’s kidney, causing her to arch her back uncomfortably... and then come to rest, sobbing again.

“No... it’s OK... She just isn’t ready to accept it yet, it takes time!” Vida again showing no emotion as she slowly cupped her thong covered hand closer and closer to Jennifer’s nose and mouth.

At first scent, Jennifer recoiled, but Vida slapped the covered hand on to her face tightly and Jennifer offered little resistance, forced disgustingly against the heavily scented material. “Let go of her other arm!” She commanded Shakira, and just as she suspected... it fell limp to her side. The booty queen drifted in and out of consciousness, breathing passages filled with her tormentor’s thong. Satisfied with her treatment of the champion so far, Vida let go of her face, standing up, a smile creeping across her face. “Let’s end this first meeting the right way...” Vida said calmly as she turned around, leaning forward a bit, reaching back and spreading her ass cheeks, waiting for her booty’s newest guest. “Jennifer, meet the instrument of your destruction. I was born to be your ‘Waterloo’... the end of your career!”

With much relish Mariah forced Jennifer’s unwilling nose deep in the crack of Vida’s ass. Nose and anal star meeting for the first time; filling Jennifer’s senses more deeply and completely than before with Vida’s lusty scent. Vida released her cheeks, letting them SLAP Jennifer’s red, humiliated face. Jennifer again began to drift in and out of consciousness and an artist couldn’t have painted a better picture of defeat; the glorious champion Jennifer Lopez buried face deep in the smooth ass of a younger challenger; on her knees, thighs spread wide, her sexy, infamous ass sitting helplessly on her calves. J-Lo pawed once or twice at her tormentor’s firm butt before her arms dropped limp and lifeless at her sides.

One camera caught the perfect shot, from just over Vida’s shoulder, her ass cheeks molding to Jennifer’s flushed face as the Queen’s eyes slowly closed and her beautiful body went completely slack. Vida watched the whole thing over her shoulder, as if her and her beautiful butt were two separate entities. She’d waited for this moment a long time...waited to feel Jennifer’s nose pressing into her feel her champions body go prove her ass the superior. And if you saw nothing but the last few moments, you’d believe that to be the absolute truth! Vida stepped forward and let her victim’s face slip from the musky valley of her large posterior. J-Lo was already out cold as she plunged forward, crashing face-first to the mat in a heap, defeated and totally embarrassed, sprawled on her famous bosom with her legs splayed in wanton sensuality.

“I’m done with her! Next time, your title’s mine old woman!” Vida said as she kicked Jennifer in the ribs, gathered her things and left the ring. Her friends opted to stay behind and have their way with the beaten beauty whom they rolled onto her back as Anna Nicole straddled the unconscious champion’s body.

“Ass Queen huh?” Anna snorted derisively before she jumped up and dropped her massive ass onto Jennifer’s chest with such a hard impact the whole ring shook! Anna got up and swept her ass back and forth on Jennifer’s slumbering face, but before it went any further….

…the celebrity fighters at ringside had seen enough! Britney Spears was the first to reach the ring, quickly followed by Jessica Alba... then Pam Anderson... Angelina Jolie... more coming... filling the ring...chasing the antagonists out of the ring, sending both they and the commissioner scurrying back to the refuge of their locker rooms as the paramedics finally reached the ring to tend the out cold Latina Booty Queen.