Aphrodite Lowell vs. Lady Lakota | A Debut | Opposite Skinny Jeans

Bathed in the glister of spotlights.

A working mic clasped delicately in her slender fingers.

A zealous army of fans to adore her.

Aphrodite Lowell reveled in it all.

The blond stood solitary in the center of the ring, needing no excuse to wear a bikini (especially not for her debut) and poised with a hand on her hip, ensuring the cameras captured her curves and porcelain skin from a flattering angle. The smirk she wore betrayed her confidence in being in front of so many in so little for the first time in her life - if she did not impress them in a bikini, she could not impress them at all - as well as her notion that she belonged and deserved this fanfare. The loud whistles and cat calls, breaking through the quizzical murmuring shared among the crowd as they studied the relative stranger in the ring boldly revealing herself to the world, reinforced this proud sense of privilege. She suspected that a number of them already knew who she was, smitten the moment they came across her photos or videos, and she would make sure, before her time in the limelight came to an end for this particular show, that the rest of them knew, as well. And as much as she enjoyed teasing them with anticipation, Aphrodite supposed she should get started introducing herself and setting this place on fire. Cutting her eyes slyly to the opposite side of the ring, Aphrodite brought her hand to her chin and blew a kiss.

"Heeeeey, AFW fans!," she sang into the mic, and her smirk tore into a wide, confident grin as the crowd cheered in response. Ugh, was this ever wonderful. Shifting to the opposite hip, Aphrodite paused to let the fans get their fill of screaming for her before she again raised the mic. "Ooooh, you don't disappoint. That is a greeting fit for a goddess. Hope you don't scream that loudly for any plain Jane who walks into the ring, or I might get jealous." She winked, trotting her way over to the ropes and tracing her fingertips absently along the top of them. "Surely, you're all asking, 'who is this lovely lady who just walked into our lives?' I've never been one for mysteries, so let me indulge you."

It was only for a moment that she closed her eyes. Right, Aphrodite. Sell it. Your first chance to introduce yourself to so, so many people.

They opened, and she posed with a foot propped on the ropes. "I am Aphrodite Lowell, but you can all call me whatever you want. I'm here for you, after all." The cheers resumed. Aphrodite soaked them in, letting her lids slide shut again but for a moment. She had dreamed of this kind of indulgence. Now it was her reality.

Again, the cheers slowly faded, providing her the opportunity to speak again - fantastic. "I know you've all enjoyed AFW for years now," she began, as she crossed the ring. "Tonight and every night in the future, you'll enjoy AFW a little bit more - learn to love it a little bit more - because I love you. After all, babes, you'll be seeing more of this..." She paused, her free hand gesturing from her shoulders to her thighs. The whistles increased, bringing the grin to her lips again. "And that's just the start of it. You'll be impressed by how good I look when I'm actually using this ring for its true purpose, too. Are you liking what you hear so far?"

By the affirmative sound of their howls and applause, they did. She sighed a pleasurable sigh. They were wrapped around her finger already.

Janet had to be honest—she had never heard the AFW crowd cheer for a new wrestler so riotously before. Her own introductory applause, two years in the past now, had been loud and very supportive, but it hadn't been anything like this. The former Entropy champion had been in the crowd that evening, and, when she saw the blonde come down the ramp and slide into the ring wearing nothing but an itsy bitsy bikini, Janet had to slide out of her seat and head backstage, standing at the top of the ramp to get a closer look.

As this girl—who quickly identified herself as one Aphrodite Lowell—continued to speak, Janet became more and more bemused by what she was hearing. She scoffed and rolled her eyes as she listened to the girl's pompous rhetoric and promises. Janet had heard all of this before, from dozens of other wannabe superstars who thought that they could come in and immediately be the queen of AFW. This girl wasn't the first, and she wouldn't be the last. Whatever bush league she came from, it was nothing compared to AFW. Every girl in AFW was a champion back home. The competition they encountered in the local leagues wasn't even close to being on an AFW level.

Every time one of these newbies came in proclaiming herself to be the new queen of all things AFW, a veteran stepped up and put her in her place. Now, perhaps it was time for Lady Lakota to step into that role and show this little arrogant blonde what was awaiting her here in Tokyo.

Back when she was a rookie, Janet hadn't been like this. She remembered her very first match—the Skinny Jeans Match she had fought with her sexy friend Racy Tracy. Neither of them had acted with anything but the utmost humility and respect as they stripped each other of those ultra-tight jeans. They had ended up clad in nothing but bikinis, but didn't make their first appearance in front of the AFW crowd wearing as little as possible, bouncing around, wiggling, showing off like this.

Slowly, Janet smiled. She had an idea for how she might put this Aphrodite in her place.

Before Aphrodite could say much more, Janet's war chant began to play in the arena, eliciting an immediate, wild roar from the audience as the popular former champion made her entrance. When she entered, the Lakota, like the blonde in the ring, was clad in nothing but a bikini: the black-with-green-trim bikini that she had worn as a key component of her costume since day one. She was going to teach this little girl a lesson in humility.

Janet lifted a microphone to her lips as she got into the ring. "Looks like this Jane just showed you up, sweetie. No matter how skimpy the clothing you wear and how much you jiggle and giggle and flaunt your body, you'll never get the sort of applause that comes with being a champion." She would take a step forward towards the blonde. "I'm sorry to spoil your party, but I'm here to tell you that you can't just walk in here and expect to own the arena. You've forgotten to pay your dues. You've got to earn a place here in the AFW pantheon. You might talk a big game, but looking at you, something tells me you might not be all you're cracking yourself up to be."

She smiled and took another step closer, before crooking a finger and beckoning for Aphrodite to join her in the center of the ring. "So I'm here to put you in your place, my little goddess. This is your baptism of fire."

It seemed the barbarians were invading.

Unpleasant music poured through the arena, muffling the crowd's appreciative chants. Though the interruption vexed her, Aphrodite forced a reasonably pleasant expression as she narrowed her eyes at the stage as a dark-haired figure emerged from backstage. From such a distance, Aphrodite could discern little about this rude intruder, only that she, too, had emerged in a bikini. The blonde nibbled at the inside of her cheek to keep from scowling. This pathetic woman was not only interrupting Aphrodite during an intimate chat with the fans during her designated ring time, but she was also so incredibly rude and apparently jealous of the response that Aphrodite's bikini was receiving that she dared try to imitate. She supposed she should not expect all female wrestlers at such a large company to be polite, but this first impression was far from favorable.

Then again, Aphrodite did have the woman's attention. Attention was what she wanted.

Aphrodite, returning her hand to her hip, remained composed as the woman approached the ring with a mic of her own, though there was mild temptation to wrap the ropes around the intruder's neck. Instead, she flashed the woman a sarcastic smile as they stood on opposite sides of the ring. Now that she could see could study the woman, Aphrodite found that she was not impressed. She was not ugly, but she was certainly no blonde bombshell. And that blandly-colored bikini that she did not fill quite as fully as Aphrodite did... If the intruder was truly jealous of Aphrodite, it would not come as a surprise. Unfortunately, the woman quickly became more unattractive when she started flapping her gums. The green trim on the woman's bikini was not enough to represent her envy - Aphrodite had been right. Was this what the common wrestlers did? Try to stifle star power with bad, bad words about "earning a place" and "big games"? If so, Aphrodite now saw why AFW needed someone with her particular wow factor. It only made her smile more self-assured.

Regardless of the monotony of the small speech, Aphrodite let the woman finish to show that she, as opposed to this upstart, was not rude enough to interrupt. When the woman finally quieted, Aphrodite calmly lifted the mic again. "Oh, you don't have to say you're sorry for spoiling my party, babe. This party was for the benefit of these fans..." The responsive cheer compelled her to turn to the seats and wink. "Maybe they're the ones who deserve the apology. We were having a blast." Oh, did Aphrodite know the value of catering to fans - she had always been sugary sweet to fans at live events, paid matches, and when she signed custom videos, and she had reaped the benefits. Fans were the ones who would be heaping praise on her while she remained with AFW. She wanted them on her side, and they had plenty of reason to love Aphrodite if this woman was representative of the average AFW girl's charm.

Despite loving the sight of the crowd, Aphrodite turned back to the woman across from her and stepped into the center of the ring. Despite the woman's greater height, Aphrodite always felt the tallest in whatever room she occupied. She stared the woman in the eyes, poised and more than a little giddy to have this chance to banter. "It sounds like you're a bit upset that a...." She glanced to the top of the arena's seats, as if counting. "...few thousand people like that I make a bold entrance. And that's okay, but do you really have to ruin our fun? I don't think a little cheering ever hurt anyone. Still, despite your preaching, Jane the Baptist," she quipped, poking the woman lightly above the bellybutton with her index finger, "I suppose you do have the right idea. You can help put me in my place."

Stepping back from the woman, Aphrodite lifted her hand as far above her head as she could stretch, smiling sweetly and imagining how much these people were going to adore her for saying what she was about to say. "Right at the top."

Janet was surprised that the blonde was not merely self-centered and arrogant, but also might be mildly delusional. Perhaps that was going too far, but the Lakota couldn't help but get the sense that this girl actually believed most of what she was saying. There were, of course, plenty of girls in AFW just like that—they were so confident in their own abilities and their own superiority that they completely deceived themselves.

More than that, it seemed that this girl wasn't familiar with AFW at all. Janet wasn't one to brag—unlike Aphrodite—but she had appeared in more than a dozen matches—including four Entropy title fights and a number one contendership match for the Hentai title—and this little blonde girl didn't seem to recognize her at all. It was one thing to assume you were better than all of the veterans and greats of AFW. It was another thing to come in acting as if they had never existed at all.

Janet smirked as her opponent prodded her, then stepped back proclaiming that her rightful place was at the top of AFW. "Once you've proven yourself, you can jockey for a place at the top. And once you've proven you're more than just a cute face and a pair of decent breasts, you'll deserve all the applause that you get. But if you were a real wrestler, you wouldn't want to be cheered like this. I'm calling your bluff, sweetie. I say you're all flash and glitter and no substance. Just try to prove me wrong. If you seriously don't know who I am, then you're in for a big, nasty surprise."

Janet would beckon for one of the AFW technicians outside the ring to hand her a small package, wrapped up and bound with a small cord. "When I first started here, I came straight from a little local league in Wisconsin. I assume you come from similar circumstances. I knew that I had to work my way up. I started here in a fun little fight called a Skinny Jeans Match—my opponent and I had to try to pull each other's jeans off while keeping our own on. I was thinking about that when I watched your entrance. You would just love a match like that, wouldn't you? You love to show off." She would chuckle and undo the cord on the package. It would immediately unravel, revealing four legs' worth of smooth blue denim. With little ceremony, Janet would toss one of the pairs of jeans to Aphrodite.

"So here's my challenge to you: for your debut match, it will be just the opposite of mine. Instead of stripping each other, we're going to try to cover each other up. Whoever can force her opponent into their jeans first—pull them all the way up to the waist, zip them, and button them so that the bikini bottoms can't be seen anymore—is the winner. What do you say, sweetie?"

Aphrodite failed to see the irony in her mental acknowledgement that some girls sure loved to hear themselves talk while she dropped the raised arm down to her side and listlessly peered at the windbag who appeared determined to make a crisis of nothing - of quality entertainment. Was this not an entertainment company? Was Aphrodite mistaken? Were all the women simply homely gladiators heaving axes to and from the ring? How brutish. She exaggerated, she knew, but the thought amused her and fed her sense of showmanship nonetheless. Much disdain as she had for this woman's interruption, it actually gave her more opportunity to work the crowd. They provided their oohs and aahs as the encounter progressed.

Still, the droning was boring Aphrodite. Blah real wrestler this, blah I'm so amazing that, blah I'm upset the new girl is popular and doesn't have to beat up other girls for people to like her. ...Aphrodite was tempted to use that last line, but she maintained her serenity, simply shifting her hips from side to side to keep as many eyes on her as possible even while the woman spoke. Aphrodite didn't need to be blabbering to hold people's attention, so she was perfectly content to wait her turn as long as the woman ceased her ranting within the next half hour. Oh yes, Aphrodite was the one obsessed with herself.

It was only once the woman gestured for the ring attendants to hand her a small package that Aphrodite actually took interest in what the woman might actually have in mind. Despite her curiosity, she still saw an opening to speak and instantly claimed it. "A nasty surprise? I'm afraid I don't know you well enough for you to be sharing any nasty surprises with me. AFW does have nurses." Aphrodite saw no need to add more, and the woman continued.

Unsurprisingly, the woman sounded as if she was working her way towards challenging Aphrodite to a match. She could have said so far earlier. Aphrodite had not planned to wrestle tonight - she had planned to enjoy her private interaction with her newest admirers - but as always, she was the consummate professional, prepared for anything. However, she wasn't sure why the woman was describing an old match. Aphrodite would partake in nothing old and therefore uninteresting.  

The woman elaborated. The blond quirked an eyebrow at the pair of admittedly fashionable skinny jeans that the woman tossed her and scrutinized them. The idea was...atrocious. No one in the crowd wanted to see Aphrodite covered in more clothing, and the Californian suspected that the woman had only come up with such an idea because she didn't want to lose all her fans to a beauty of Aphrodite's caliber. And yet, Aphrodite could not resist a challenge. After all, when she won, she would not be the one stuffed into a pair of skinny jeans. Holding the jeans before her, Aphrodite peered over them at the woman, smirking. "If you'll promise to wear them all night - and to bed - after I cram you into them, I suppose I can't say no, babe." The fanfare that rained down from the rafters was reward enough for agreeing. She gifted another wink to the cameras. "Don't worry, everyone! I'll still have plenty to show you when the match is over." On cue, the match crew hustled into positions. Aphrodite handed her pair of jeans to the referee entering the ring and, once she had gotten her fill of waving to fans as she sashayed to a corner, made quite the show of stretching - extending each leg slowly to the top of the turnbuckle, ensuring the front row had quite the view - as the match stipulations were read.

Nothing Janet said seemed to be getting through to this little blonde upstart. As a matter of fact, the Lakota got the sense that the girl wasn't listening to her at all. That did nothing to improve Janet's opinion of the girl. Not only did was she an attention-grabber, but she refused to listen to any voice that wasn't her own. Everything about her added up to one halfway delusional girl who could easily stir up trouble, for herself and for others, here at AFW. Really, Janet was trying to do the girl a favor, and save her from a more brutal beating at the hands of some fiery-tempered hardcore warrior. Not that Aphrodite would ever accept that.

At least the girl paid enough attention to understand the sort of match that Janet was suggesting. The Lakota was still smiling when the blonde accepted her challenge. "Once I've stuffed your fat butt into these, I don't think you'll even be able to get it out before bedtime. These are the skinniest skinny jeans you're ever going to see, and it's going to be oh so very rewarding to watch you squirm around in them once I've put them on you."

Janet would back up into the opposite corner and drape the jeans over the ropes, starting her own stretches. She didn't bother showing off for the crowd the way Aphrodite did. Despite what the delusional blonde seemed to believe, the AFW crowd could not be won over that easily. They would cheer any good-looking girl who bounced in, sure. And they would cheer good, solid wrestling action. But when it came to who their favorite was going to be...Janet didn't doubt for a second that she had them on her side. She was a well-respected champion, after all, and she was going to put this upstart newbie in her proper place.

There was nothing the AFW crowd loved more than a well-deserved ass kicking, and Janet was here to deliver what they craved.

The tactics of this match were going to be tricky. It would be a standard match, up until the time that the jeans came into play. Janet would have to weaken Aphrodite enough that she could get those jeans on her, and make sure that Aphrodite never had a chance to try to put her pair of jeans on Janet. The fact that the jeans were not just a winning stipulation, but a bona fide part of the match, would make it the perfect way to prove to this newcomer that she was not the cream of the crop mentally or physically.

Hopefully, it would be a wake-up call for Aphrodite. She could see just how conceited making an entrance like this had been.

Janet stretched her arms up to the sky, then started working out her legs, doing some high kicks, then grabbing onto it, pulling her foot up over her shoulder to show off her flexibility to her opponent. She then would turn around, reach down and touch her toes, thrusting her rear end out towards the other side of the ring. No, Janet didn't need to show off for the fans—but she would show off for her opponent, to give the girl a chance to realize just what she was getting herself into.

"Of course, hon," the blond sighed in apathetic response. Aphrodite would never know why people resorted to "insults" with no basis in reality. No one with reasonably keen eyesight would mistake "shapely" for "fat," and no one really believed such a simpleton could beat a woman of Aphrodite's skill and intelligence. In fact, while the woman continued her boorish tirade, Aphrodite realized how the jeans might cling to her curves appealingly, but, alas, she would not be the one wearing them. Perhaps, after Aphrodite won, she would slide into the skinny jeans for her own gratification. Besides, she didn't want to make her opponent feel too shamed; Aphrodite should thank her for all the dedicated attention, after all.

In her corner, as the crew made final preparations, Aphrodite proceed with her pandering - waving, smiling, and continuing to exhibit her legs before using arm stretches as an excuse to subtly thrust her chest towards the first row - but her mind dwelt on the circumstances that she currently faced. Contrary to her opponent's pretentious attitude, Aphrodite possessed a great deal of experience in shifting from model to entertainer to wrestler and back with regularity. In fact, it was quite evident that Aphrodite was better at balancing the aspects of showmanship than her opponent, who looked to be of one state of mind - bestial, wanting to interrupt good fun in favor of fighting for no genuinely good reason.

Continuing her stretches, the blonde slid to the floor, formed a V with her legs, and lightly reached for one set of toes and then the other, failing to notice her opponent's attempt to garner her attention. No, Aphrodite had quite thoroughly analyzed her opponent during their conversation, and unfortunately, Aphrodite did not find her as interesting as her opponent apparently did her. Clearly, the opponent considered Aphrodite inadequate simply because she was new and happened to be stunning and charismatic, meanwhile considering herself superior due to some past success to which she clung to ensure herself of her importance. Let the woman consider Aphrodite more glitter than substance if she so wished.

The Californian stood, taking one last opportunity to feed off the electricity of the crowd with a few gentle waves and a toothy grin as the ref got into position. Aphrodite finally turned with her back up against the turnbuckle, ensured her bikini was suitably fitted at her waist and chest, and stepped forward with cat-like strides to her half of the ring, ready for the bell to ring. "May the best woman win," Aphrodite succinctly commented, no doubt in her mind who that best woman could be.

The buildup to this match was very strange—it felt almost surreal, and Janet knew that was almost entirely due to the very strange demeanor of this girl. The Native American wrestler was still trying to fathom exactly what was going on inside the blonde's head, to cause her to react the way she did to what had been said. Everything she did seemed slightly off, somehow, and for that reason Janet was certain that the girl was at least mildly deranged.

Well, maybe getting her ass kicked and then shoved into a pair of too-tight skinny jeans would make the girl a little more sane. With the looks that she had, a personality to match—one that wasn't so insufferable—could actually make her a very popular wrestler here in Tokyo.

Janet finished stretching at about the same time as her opponent, and would give a little wave to the crowd before stepping forward towards the center of the ring. From the opposite corner, her opponent mirrored that movement. As the two of them approached each other, Janet glanced over her shoulder at the pair of skinny jeans in her corner, then looked back to her opponent, and smiled. "Yes, may the best woman win," she agreed, not doubting for a second who the best woman really was. The bell rang.

To start off, Janet wanted to see just what sort of girl she was facing off with here. She would bend her knees slightly and lift both arms, palms forward, offering a test of strength to Aphrodite to begin the fight. "Come on, let's see if you can impress me, sweetie. I'll give you a shot at it. You're going to need to impress people besides yourself if you're going to make a living here."