The four teams of wrestlers were all now back in their respective locker rooms after the conclusion of the first round of the tag team championship wrestling tournament. But while the losers, Barbie Doll/Fire and Christina/Marisa, licked their wounds before changing back into their street clothes, the winners were preparing for the championship match. There was a scheduled twenty minute break before the match was to begin, and the capacity crowd milled about while they waited. In the front row, Leona and Maggie discussed the events of the first round. Leona, a former professional wrestler, gave her daughter Maggie her opinion of the combatants. “That Marisol is definitely the class of the bunch” she explained, not aware of the bitter rivalry her daughter had with the Puerto Rican wrestler. Maggie smirked as her mother continued, “As for those Pretty Girls, any wrestler worth her weight could kick their butts. And that Christina, what a waste!”. Maggie shrugged her shoulders, seemingly annoyed at her mother’s pompous arrogance. “That Barbie Doll, with a little bit of coaching, she could be a nice little wrestler, but her partner, another waste!”. Maggie sat silently, listening to her mother go on. Although Leona knew that Maggie belonged to this federation, she had never seen her wrestle before. Maggie had graciously brought her mother to the tournament to show her where she wrestled and to see some of the action, but was not happy about her critiquing of the wrestlers. Meanwhile, back in the locker rooms, the activity level of the about-to-be opponents was quite different. Marisol and Jo rested, each sitting back in their seats as they waited to be called. Marisol was toweling off her neck as Jo sat with a smug smile on her face. Their fist match had been quick and easy, and neither exerted much energy. Even though Jo had taken a few brisk stomach punches, she was fully recovered and looking forward to the championship match. She looked over at Marisol, confident that her ruthless partner would help her make her wish come true, winning a championship.

Across in the locker room of the Pretty Girls however, the pace was furious. The second match had ended much more quickly than they had anticipated, and they were running out of time before the championship match was scheduled to begin. They didn’t have much time, so feverishly they each stripped out of their outfits before they debated what to wear for the championship bout. They had brought several outfits with them, in contrast to their opponents who simply kept the same suits on. Finally, running out of time, they agreed on matching, powder blue bikinis. What was interesting about not only this selection, but all of the outfits the Pretty girls wore was there modesty. Although both girls possessed very nice bodies and were very stylish, there suits were never daring or overly revealing. The always wore very chic, flashy, pretty bikinis, but they were also very conservatively cut. They each slipped on their new, full cut suits before prepping themselves further. Stacey, whose hair was tied up in a bun, undid it and let her frizzy, light-brown hair fall. It settled a few inches above her shoulders and she then diligently brushed it out before grabbing some make-up and fixing her face. Her partner Heather did not need to fix her make-up as she wore none, but nonetheless checked herself over carefully. She was a natural beauty, and unlike her partner, needed little work to look great. The loud, pulsating beat of the music they were playing flowed out to the other rooms, and the two defeated teams grew angry at the openly jovial, albeit hectic atmosphere of the young wrestlers. They were openly flaunting their victory even though they had another match to fight. Marisol heard the music and smiled wryly, confident that she and Jo would easily handle the younger women. Just then a knock came on the door of the Pretty Girls. A look of panic stretched across Stacey’s face as she dropped her make-up and grabbed a bottle of moisturizer from the table. The oil she had rubbed on her legs before the first match had all been wiped off, most of it on Fire’s face and body, and she was determined to restore the luster to her lengthy gams. She hastily rubbed the moisturizer on her long, curvy legs before wiping her hands off on a towel. Stacey knew that she needed to look her best when next to Heather, but her time had run out. She ran to catch up to Heather who was a few feet in front of her before they made their way to the entrance and took a deep breath before bursting through the doors and strutting toward the ring. They strode confidently forward, each shaking their assets to the cheers of the crowd. They climbed into the ring and began blowing kisses to the adoring crowd before their opponents entered the arena.

With much less fanfare, Marisol Jo and made their way toward the ring, Marisol’s face cold and intense. Jo smiled widely, waving to the crowd, but drawing little reaction. The sedate greeting however had no effect on her, as she was convinced of her team’s impending victory. the two veteran’s climbed into t he ring and immediately headed toward their corner, Jo following Marisol’s lead. They bypassed playing to the crowd and instead focused their attentions on their flamboyant foes. Finally the crowd settled back into their seats and Marisol climbed beneath the ropes, leaving Jo to start the match. Heather also stepped onto the ring apron, leaving Stacey to start the match for the Pretty Girls. Stacey kissed Heather on the cheek for lick, and then smirked across at her older foe. Jo was almost twice Stacey’s age, But she did not look intimidated. Standing in her corner, wearing her red, white and blue bikini, Jo was in good shape for a woman her age. Although her face and certain parts of her body had developed a few wrinkles, she was nonetheless lean and in pretty good shape. Her stomach was flat and her legs were muscle- toned, but her small chest drooped in front of her. She was not a beauty queen by any stretch of the imagination, but she a reasonably attractive 50 year old woman. Stacey, on the other hand, had certain striking features. She had a very nice body, long and thin, accentuated by her ever-stretching legs. Her chest was small but firm, and looked appealing in the powder blue cotton bikini top. Her amorphous face was enhanced by the clever use of cosmetics, and leaving her soft hair to flow freely softened her look. The two women stared each other down before, finally the bell rang to signal the start of the match.

Jo skipped quickly and confidently out of her corner as Stacey followed suit. Her long legs made her look as if she were gliding forward, but Jo cut her off with a quick lunge at her kneecaps. Jo wrapped her arms around the back of Stacey’s extensive appendages and then pulled her down to the mat. The surprised Stacey fell backward, her shoulders crashing against the mat, her arms falling helplessly over her head and her legs being held in the air. Jo was now kneeling, facing Stacey with her arms still wrapped around her elevated legs. She then unwound her arms, but before Stacey could pull her legs away, Jo thrust her hands forward. She grabbed hold of the inside of Stacey’s thighs, clenching the fingers on each of her hands around the thigh muscle on each of Stacey’s legs. She dug her fingers into the fleshy portion of Stacey’s legs, clamping onto her thigh muscles in a vise-like claw hold. Stacey began to scream, rolling her head from side to side and slamming her arms against the mat in agony. But Stacey’s cries of anguish only encouraged Jo to tighten her grip as her fingers became lost in Stacey’s meaty thighs. Jo picked her head up and smiled from ear to ear as the crowd booed loudly. Stacey was in tormenting pain, and her screams became ear-shattering before Jo finally eased her grip. She slid her hands up Stacey’s shiny legs and wrapped her hands around her ankles before pushing herself up onto her feet. Jo now stood over the crippled Stacey, still elevating her legs at a 90 degree angle to the rest of her body. Jo then propelled her leg forward, driving her kneecap into the back of Stacey’s right thigh. The first shot jarred Stacey, lifting her lower back off of the mat. Jo then rammed her knee into the same spot again, causing Stacey’s right leg to go numb as she moaned in pain. Jo then thrust her knee forward one last time, driving her hard knee into the soft, extended muscle in Stacey’s thigh. Stacey’s face went pale as she grimaced and groaned, her right leg paralyzed. Jo then released her grip of Stacey’s left leg, causing it to droop down toward her body while she wrapped her arms around Stacey’s injured right leg. She pulled it in close to her body, pulling it up further into the air in the process. She then began to spin around, plucking Stacey off of the canvas and sending her body twirling in a circle, orbiting around the rotating Jo. After a few full turns, Jo unwrapped her arms, sending Stacey’s flailing body soaring across the ring before crashing to the mat in a heap. Jo smiled again and then jogged toward the corner, slapping Marisol’s hand. Stacey attempted to crawl toward her own corner, but Marisol was approaching fast. Stacey reached her hand out, but she could not reach the extended arm of Heather before Marisol grabbed hold of her ankles. Marisol dragged her back toward the middle of the ring while Heather yelled in protest.

Marisol reached the center of the ring and dropped Stacey’s legs. She then walked up to her shoulders and reached down, grabbing a handful of Stacey’s hair. She plucked her off of the mat, violently pulling her by the hair. She walked her over to the corner opposite of where Heather stood, and then defiantly raced across the ring toward Heather, pulling the bewildered Stacey along with her. As they reached the corner, Marisol came to complete stop just a few feet away, but tossed the bowed Stacey forward, sending her head careening into the turnbuckle. Stacey’s head hit the turnbuckle at an alarmingly fast pace before ricocheting off of it and then tumbling backward. She plopped to the mat in a daze, Heather desperately reaching out to her. Stacey took a few seconds to focus her vision, but then saw Heather. She got up onto her knees and reached forward in desperation. Just as the Pretty Girl’s fingers were only inches apart however, Marisol ran up alongside Stacey and sent a vicious kick into her fully extended midsection. “MMMPPPPHHHH” moaned Stacey as she fell over onto her side, clutching her wounded midsection. The crowd was growing more vocal and jeered Marisol as she stood over the thunderstruck Stacey. But the jeers of the crowd only stimulated Marisol even more, and she reached down and grabbed another handful of Stacey’s hair. She lifted her off of the mat and then tossed her forward, sending her body racing toward Jo’s corner. Stacey’s back smacked against the turnbuckle and her arms fell listlessly over the top rope. Jo immediately reached forward and grabbed both of Stacey’s wrists as Marisol grabbed hold of her ankles. Marisol lifted Stacey’s legs up into the air, causing her body to now be parallel to the mat. Marisol then began to toss Stacey’s ankles up and down, causing her entire body to undulate as Jo maintained the grip of her wrists. She was fully extended inside the ring, her body wavering up and down from Marisol’s motion. Finally, Marisol and Jo joined in unison, timed to the dips and raises of Stacey’s body. “ONE.....TWO......THREE” and with that Jo released her grip on Stacey’s wrists as Marisol thrust her ankles up into the air before releasing them. Stacey’s outstretched body soared up into the air before rapidly descending, her back smacking against the mat with a loud THUD. Marisol walked toward her corner and arrogantly slapped hands with Jo, who eagerly climbed into the ring. Stacey slowly tried to roll over closer to Heather as Jo began to play with the taunting crowd. Slowly and tediously she made her way across the ring until she finally got close enough to barely tag her partner. Heather leaped over the top rope and into the ring, only to find Jo standing directly in front of her as she landed. Before Heather could react, Jo instantly wrapped her arm around Heather’s head and pulled it down, placing her in a headlock.

Although Heather had made a vibrant entrance into the ring, she was nonetheless outsmarted by her older, experienced opponent. Jo tightened her grip around the hunched Heather’s head and yanked her over to the side ropes while Heather flapped her arms while trying to escape the hold. Reaching the side of the ring., Jo backed Heather against them and then sent an uppercut with her free hand into Heather’s trapped face. Although not a powerful shot, it was enough to stun the pretty blonde and discourage her from squirming. Jo then took a deep breath and, facing the center of the ring, ran forward several steps, pulling the stooped over Heather with her. Jo then leaped into the air, stretching her legs out in front of her as she forced Heather’s head downward. Jo’s butt landed on the mat while at the same time she drove Heather’s face against it in a brutal Bulldog maneuver. Jo rolled over to the side and then pushed herself onto her feet, leaving the fully extended, bewildered blonde on the mat. Heather was muddled, her perfectly proportioned body laying face down on the mat, her long blonde hair covering the back of her shoulder blades. She laid motionless for several seconds, which caused the still ailing Stacey to panic. Standing in the far corner, Stacey yelled to her partner who gradually lifted her head and shook it back and forth. The soft, pastel- blue of her bikini, the peach color of her skin and the golden color of her hair contrasted to the deep blue color of the mat as her body remained outstretched against it. Jo then slowly strutted over to her corner and slapped Marisol’s hand before climbing beneath the ropes. Surprisingly she had single-handedly taken control of the match, and Marisol was now on mop up duty. As Heather pressed her hands down on the mat and lifted her upper body off of it, Marisol made her way over toward her. Just as Marisol reached alongside Heather, the pretty blonde had gotten herself up onto all fours. She shook her head back and forth again to clear it, but Marisol was in position to do some serious damage. She set herself alongside Heather and then kicked her boot up, smashing the top of it into Heather’s stomach. The statuesque blonde let out a loud groan before toppling onto her side and rolling toward her corner, clutching her bruised midsection. Heather, in tremendous pain, reached her arm out for Stacey, who was standing in the corner just a few feet away. Although still hobbled by her earlier assault, Stacey was still in better shape than the battered Heather. She extended her arm as far as she could and just barely tagged Heather.

Marisol charged over, realizing that a tag had taken place and immediately stomped her foot onto Heather’s back, knocking her back down to the canvas. She then raced over to Stacey’s corner and grabbed the brown-haired girl by the back of her head, forcing her upper body down onto the top rope. Marisol then pushed down forcefully on the back of Stacey’s head, forcing it to plunge downward as her body launched over the top rope and flipped into the air, heading into the ring. Heather painfully crawled to the corner and through the ropes just as Stacey slammed onto the canvas inside the ring. Her body sprawled across the canvas as she landed hard, her long legs flying in different directions. Marisol slowly sauntered over toward her, a hint of arrogance in her step. She approached Stacey’s feet, and then reached down and grabbed hold of her right ankle, lifting it into the air. Without warning, Marisol gave it a quick jerk, twisting it away from Stacey’s body. The forceful move sprained Stacey’s ankle and she let out a quick cry of pain. Marisol then dragged her body over to the side, dropping her injured ankle onto the middle rope. She then reached down and pulled the bottom rope up over Stacey’s ankle and dropped it, trapping the elevated leg of Stacey between the two wound cables. Stacey remained on her back, her right leg lifted a couple of feet of the canvas as she wriggled to free herself. Marisol then moved over and positioned herself alongside Stacey’s trapped leg before beginning a furious array of stomps down onto the trapped appendage. Stacey began to scream as Marisol stomped her foot down continually, driving the sole of her boot onto Stacey’s kneecap. Her long leg bent backward awkwardly and the grimace on Stacey’s face and the agony in her screams made it obvious that some serious damage was being done to the constrained joint. After landing several depraved kicks, Marisol stepped back and walked over to her corner. Jo had climbed onto the second rope, and stood waiting for Marisol to tag her. Once Marisol did, Jo launched herself into the air, sailing in the direction of Stacey. She landed her foot on Stacey’s leg, just above her knee, causing the glimmering limb to bend backward as if made of rubber. Jo rebounded off of Stacey and landed on her feet, right alongside the tortured Pretty Girl. Stacey was now whimpering as she lifted her shoulders off of the mat and tried to grab her wounded knee. Jo looked down in disgust at her ailing opponent, savoring her agony. Just then however, Heather snuck up behind her and landed a drop kick into Jo’s lower back. The kick sent Jo flying forward, knocking her into the ropes before rebounding off of them and falling backward. Heather quickly got to her feet and immediately untangled Stacey’s leg before turning to find Marisol charging toward her. Heather quickly stuck her leg up and landed her foot into the pit of Marisol’s stomach, stopping her in her tracks. The dormant crowd now jumped to there feet and cheered the heroics of the tall blonde while Stacey curled into a ball against the ropes, clutching her battered leg.

Heather face was etched with anger as she raced over to the slouched Marisol and slammed her joined fists into her lower back, knocking her to the mat. She then raced over to Jo, who was slowly getting to her feet, and grabbed her by the hair. She pulled her up onto her feet before tossing her body forward. Jo ran across the ring before smacking into the corner, Heather right behind her. Heather lowered her shoulder and rammed it into Jo’s unprotected midsection, causing her older adversary to fold in half over her. Heather then quickly stood upright, lifting Jo up onto her shoulder before tossing her body over it. Jo flipped through the air before landing violently against the mat, her head snapping back and slamming into the canvas. The crowd was going crazy, cheering and screaming for Heather. Stacey, meanwhile had begun to make her back to her corner, crawling on her hands and knees. As she reached it, she crawled through the ropes and then gradually used them to pull herself up onto her feet. She could put no pressure on her right leg, so she held tightly onto the ropes for support. Meanwhile, Heather was headed for Marisol to continue the attack. She grabbed the fiery Puerto Rican by her long, red hair and hauled her up and over to the side of the ring. She then leaned back against the ropes, pulling Marisol alongside her. She took a deep breath and then raced across the ring, towing Marisol along for the ride. Reaching the ropes, she stepped aside and launched Marisol forward, sending her body curling over the top rope and out of the ring. Marisol flipped over the top rope and plunged toward the ground, her back smacking against the ring apron on the way down. She landed hard on the concrete floor below the ring and rolled onto her side, clutching at her bruised back. Heather was in a frenzy, and the crowd was right with her, yelling their support. She made her way over to Jo, was by this time had almost gotten to her feet. She grabbed hold of Jo’s wrist and quickly tossed her toward the corner where Stacey was standing. Jo’s back smacked against the turnbuckles and her head jarred backward as she settled into the corner. As heather worked her way over, huffing and puffing from the furious pace, Stacey reached over the top rope and grabbed hold of Jo’s arms. Acting quickly, Jo lifted her leg and then shoved her foot backward, connecting with Stacey’s right knee. Stacey immediately released her hold of Jo’s arms and screamed, her body drooping down. She clenched the top rope with one hand to keep herself on the ring apron, but she was very shaky. Heather watched it all as she walked over, and immediately feared for her partner’s leg. But because she momentarily distracted, Jo took advantage of the opening. She stuck her arm out straight to her side and then ran forward, clotheslining the inattentive Heather. Jo’s arm slammed against Heather’s throat, knocking her backward. As Heather fell backward, her legs lifted into the air and she landed hard on her butt. Jo then immediately walked alongside her and quickly leaped into the air, pulling her knee out in front of her. She landed her bent knee square into the center of Heather’s taut tummy, causing the stunning blonde to fold in half, her upper body and legs shooting into the air. Jo smiled, realizing that she had again assumed control as she ground her knee into Heather’s belly.

The Pretty Girls were reeling. Even though Heather had made a gallant and convincing comeback, she was again at Jo’s mercy. To make matters worse, her partner Stacey was virtually crippled and of no help. Jo remained perched atop the blonde battler, driving her knee down into Heather’s intestines. Finally Jo pushed herself up, only to again drop her knee down into Heather’s midsection. Heather moaned loudly as Jo pressed more weight onto Heather. She then slid her leg across Heather’s stomach, sliding it up over chest and onto her shoulder. She moved her other knee across Heather’s body and planted that one on Heather’s other shoulder, pinning them both to the mat. Meanwhile, outside the ring, Marisol began to make her way silently around the outside of the ring toward Stacey. She crouched down so as not to be seen as the referee continued the count out of Heather. Just as he reached 10 and rang the bell, Marisol grabbed hold of Stacey’s right ankle and pulled her down from the corner, dropping her onto the floor. Stacey moaned and folded her injured leg in toward her body while rolling back and forth on her back. Jo stayed on top of Heather and raised her arms up over her head, celebrating her victory. The unhappy crowd booed, jeering the new champions as Marisol ran around the outside of the ring. She came to a stop directly in front of Maggie, and raised her hands over her head in triumph, gloating before her adversary. Maggie smirked at the display as Marisol looked down at her and smiled. She then climbed back into the ring as Jo lifted herself off of Heather. Marisol walked over to the ailing blonde and began to kick her, causing her to roll across the ring. They reached the side where Stacey was laying on the floor outside of the ring, and then Marisol gave her one last kick, knocking her body beneath the ropes and causing her to roll off of the ring apron and fall outside the ring. Heather landed in a heap alongside Stacey, and the Pretty Girls huddled together to share their grief. Meanwhile Marisol and Jo clasped hands and raised them over their heads. They were both exhausted and sweaty, but elated at having won the title. Maggie shook her head in disgust and realized that this latest development would cause her nothing but grief.
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