A Model Wrestler

Spider Kikuchi stood in the middle of the Friction training ring, pacing back in forth, a grim scowl on her face. This, by itself, wasn’t an unusual sight. In her time with the AFW, she’d became a fixture in the gym, often showing up in her purple gym shorts and top, sneering at anyone who dared to look her way, responding to any attempt at communication with biting sarcasm, making sure all the little dregs and wannabes knew that this was her territory and she wasn’t one to be crossed. She liked her space, liked to maximize her time, and she wasn’t about to waste it on the idiots. Not if she didn’t have to.

And there, alone, was the reason why she was particularly agitated today, of all days. Because, today, she had to waste her time.

It had all started with a call from one of the AFW’s representatives, some irritating thing with a squeaky voice who’d called her at 9 in the morning. It seemed that they had a new recruit - not a surprise, new recruits came to the AFW like roaches to a dumpster - but they’d found themselves with something of a problem. Traditionally, they asked one of the veteran wrestlers to help with her orientation, evaluating her skills in the ring with a practice match, but the usual people they selected for this, the most menial of tasks, weren’t available. In what had to be a profound lapse of judgment, they decided to use Spider for this.

Spider, naturally, told her to fuck off.

The mouse of woman said they really did need her help.

Spider told her to fuck off, again.

The mouse of a woman explained that this was, in fact, in her contract, and that failure to comply would result in repercussions, up to and including her termination.

Spider hung up, took ten minutes to read her contract and confirm this little tidbit, then called the mouse of a woman back and told her to fuck off, once more...and that she would be there in an hour.

So here she was, under protest. Stretching out as she paced around the ring. Maybe it wouldn’t be even be that bad? After all, messing up some newbie could be fun, a good way to try out her holds and get practice in with someone who didn’t have a way to just escape her. Eliminating potential competition. She only wished it was in front of an audience - here, in the gym, only a handful of people would ever know what would go down. But, oh well. Lemonade out of lemons.

Now, all she needed was the victim. What was her name, again? Some stupid American name. Susie or Sue or...

In an office at the Friction arena located not far from the gym, Susan was seated across the desk from the same “mouse” who had been cursed out multiple times over the phone this morning. She wore a fine, thick white coat on top of a short black silk dress, thigh-high stockings and a pair of high-heeled shoes. Her hair and makeup had been done especially nice this morning. It was a big day for her, after all.

Thanks to her extensive modeling portfolio and a good word from her wrestling coach who had connections in the Friction office, she was being interviewed for a spot on the roster here. It had gone quite well, and it seemed they were all but ready to conclude. “Alright, I think I’ve heard all I need to know. The only thing left is your test. I presume you’ve been made aware of it already?” the woman said, to which Susan nodded.

“Yes, of course. I’m already dressed for the photoshoot, so I’m ready to get right to it.” It wasn’t a typical part of the hiring process, but considering the amount of modeling Susan wanted to do for the company, they wanted to ensure they would be getting their money’s worth on that end too. There was just one problem...

“The photoshoot? Oh dear, I...hold on a moment…” the woman squeaked, then pulled up an email on her computer and read it before speaking again. “I see.. I-I’m sorry, but it seems we accidentally switched the dates here. The photoshoot is actually scheduled for tomorrow. Today is your practice match. Normally I’d be happy to reschedule, but...your opponent is already waiting in the gym, and...”

Susan’s brow twitched in a moment of annoyance, more at the knowledge of the hard work she put into her appearance going to waste than the news of the match, but quickly regained her composure. “That’s fine. Who am I wrestling?”

The woman hesitated before saying, “...Do you know who Spider Kikuchi is?”

The same brow that had twitched a second ago now raised in brief surprise, before a grin tugged at the model’s lips. “Yes, I certainly do. Well, we wouldn’t want to keep a woman like that waiting any longer, would we?” she asked, standing up and marching out the door. The other woman followed, almost having to job to match Susan’s strides. The redhead finally pushed the gym doors open and walked right in, heading toward the ring. Once next to the apron, she took off her coat and dress then kicked off her heels, leaving her only in a thin, black corset, panties and stockings as she climbed onto the apron and stepped into the ring.

Susan:

“A-are you sure you don’t want to change first-” the woman started to ask before Susan interrupted.

“I’m fine like this. Just sit back and watch.” She probably would’ve done so, but one glance at Spider Kikuchi robbed the woman of any courage she might have had for the task.

“Well...actually the referee will be a sufficient witness, so I’ll just be going. Good luck!” she said before scurrying off. When she was gone, Susan took a couple steps in Kikuchi’s direction.

“What a nice surprise this is. Beating someone like you will make for a pretty solid first impression, don’t you think?”

Spider Kikuchi hated Susan Howard on sight.

Granted, she was likely going to dislike her, anyway. This whole setup was a sham, just another excuse to waste Spider’s talents and keep her from being the dominant force she should have been in the AFW. They didn’t want to see a mature, experienced woman like herself succeeding. They wanted the younger crowd. The softer, weaker, sweeter girls. ‘Marketable’, they would call them. So she was simply being regulated to this, a waste of her talents, and that was going to color her perception of whoever stepped through those ropes.

But then she actually saw her opponent, and ‘dislike’ upgraded to ‘intense hatred’ in record time.

Spider Kikuchi had grown accustomed to the ridiculous fetish outfits that women wore in the AFW, often choosing style over substance. As ridiculous as they could often be, looking like rejects from a Halloween party, she had come to understand that such costumes were merely part of the game.

But what Susie wore? Over the line. It wasn’t a wrestling outfit in any sense of the word, would have been inappropriate attire for a catfight, and yet here she was, dolled out like she was getting ready for a photoshoot and not a wrestling match. Even for a simple spar, it wasn’t coming close to pass muster. The woman even had the nerve to approach her as if they were equals, as if she, a no-name rookie, would be able to win this with ease. It was a slap in the face to Spider’s profession, to her status, to her experience, to Spider herself, and there was only one was she could think to respond to it.

Spider slapped Susie in the face.

The hand struck Susan right on the cheek, forcefully turning her head with a loud smack that echoed through the gym. The next few seconds were filled with ominous silence. There weren’t many pairs of extra eyes in the gym, but all that were there turned to the model, wide with both shock and anticipation to see how she’d respond. Susan had been every bit as surprised as they were, though she probably shouldn’t have been. She’d come into this ring knowing about Spider Kikuchi’s reputation, and had walked right into range for that slap anyway. What else did she expect?

A very slight grin tugged at Susan’s rosey lips. She had already been eager to try to show this veteran up. But now she felt exponentially more motivated, not just to win this spar, but to pay Kikuchi back for what she just did.

In the blink of an eye the redhead suddenly whirled on Kikuchi, throwing an arm out toward her neck, while at the same time her right leg sought to shift behind the Spider’s left leg. Susan attempted to catch her foe in a headlock while tripping Kikuchi over her leg, hoping to bring her down to the mat while keeping her locked up in her tight hold!

Management had wanted this to be a learning experience, didn’t they? Well, it would be, and that slap was a way for Spider to give this woman the most valuable lesson of all: Don’t Fuck With Spider Kikuchi.

She had already taken far more abuse than a woman of her stature deserved in this company, maligned and mismanaged at every turn. There was no way she was going to take an insult from this glorified stripper, as well. She would show them why this was such a mistake when she returned their new little pet project back to them with broken limbs. If nothing else, the image of them having to pay hospital care for a woman that hadn’t even wrestled brought a smile to her face

But before she could enjoy the moment further, the little trollop had to go and ruin it by fighting back. An arm came around Spider’s neck in a flash, she was tripped up, and the next thing she knew, she was on the floor with this idiot on top of her, captured in a tight hold.

Grunting, reflexes took over, and she began to struggle, thrashing about, desperate to get free before this woman did...whatever she was attempting to do. Spider didn’t know or care.

Susan focused on maintaining her hold once Kikuchi began thrashing about in her clutches. It was a difficult and dangerous affair, and made her feel more like she was attempting to wrangle an angry gator than wrestle another woman. Knowing her foe’s reputation, letting up wasn’t an option. Now that she had her on the mat, she had to keep her down while breaking down her resistance.

And she had the perfect tools for the job.

After a few moments of squeezing her foe in the headlock, she shifted with Kikuchi’s bucking just until she had gotten her torso a few inches off the ground. Right then Susan released the headlock and threw her legs around her opponent’s waist and crossed them at the ankles to apply a side body scissor, one thigh pressing into the small of her back while the other bore down on her stomach.

Contrary to what Kikuchi likely thought of her, this wasn’t Susan’s first time mixing it up in a ring. On top of modeling, she’d spent a couple years as a traveling session wrestler, and had another year or so of independent in-ring experience. As a sessioner, Susan’s clients had been the perfect practice dummies to help her perfect her scissor holds, and her professional training after taught her how to incorporate them into a competitive style. Her legs were deadly weapons, and putting them to use like this seemed a good way to punish Kikuchi for disrespecting and underestimating her.

Was that snickering that Spider was hearing nearby? Were some of the little idiots around the gym daring to laugh? At her?

If Spider weren’t so busy at the moment, she would’ve loved to get a better look at exactly who thought this was so funny. She’d simply been taken by surprise, that was all. It was hardly like this little idiotic American had already won the match. So she had a fairly decent takedown in her arsenal. So what? This was the sort of move that most wrestling student learned in their first week. Child’s play.

She would just work her way out of the hold, and then-

Spider was in the process of making her escape when Susie abruptly changed things up, foregoing the headlock and bringing her legs around the waist. She didn’t think much of it, not at first. Yes, she could tell a scissorhold when she saw one, but most women didn’t have the power to really crush a well-toned abdomen like hers. She could take it.

But then the pressure came.

And came.

And kept coming.

And before she knew it, before she had any choice in the matter, she was kicking and screaming and squirming on the mat, gasping for breath as Susie’s thigh swelled and bore into her, threatening to cut her clean in half. She’d been in scissorholds before, but never like this, never so painful, never so damaging all at once.

Susan heard the snickering too, which caused a grin to tug at her lips. From her perspective, it was an exquisite addition to the atmosphere, but nothing could beat the central piece of it. She caught the Spider in her powerful legs, squeezed, and what came next was just too perfect. Kikuchi thrashed and screamed in her clutches, unable to hide the agony she was enduring. The redhead just sneered condescendingly at her while she suffered.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Susan taunted, swinging one hand to slap the trapped Spider right in the cheek, paying her back for the disrespect shown to her moments ago. Then, while keeping her legs firmly locked in place around Kikuchi’s midsection, she quickly shifted her torso back and out of striking reach, pompously propping her pretty head on a hand while the elbow rested on the mat.

Then to add further insult to injury, she periodically began to slightly rock Kikuchi back and forth between her deadly legs, occasionally easing up on the scissor just enough to let her take a breath, only to pour on the pressure again the moment she exhaled. She didn’t know if the Spider would be able to fight out of this or not. But the more air she sapped out of her with her crushing scissor hold now, the easier it would be to keep her under control.

Spider Kikuchi was going to rip Susie’s hair out. She was going to cut it off and feed it all to her, strand by strand. She was going to break her arms, break her legs, break fingers, break toes. Put her in holds so obscure that Wikipedia hadn’t even found names for them, yet. She would do it all without a shred of remorse or regret. In fact, she would smile all the time, knowing that she had done her part to protect the purity of wrestling.

...just as soon as she got out from between these damn thighs.

She gritted her teeth, clutched her fists tight, trying to endure the pain going through her body as the endless compression threatening to cave her in. Susie would ease up on the pressure every now and then, but that was far from mercy - each time, Spider would have to deal with the pain of her innards rapidly expanding, only to be crushed again when she turned the pressure on. It was excruciating, and the bitch had to go on and pile things on with that cocky look of hers.

”Get off me, you stupid, fat cow!” She spat Susie’s way, before making a mad crawl towards the ropes, desperate to grab them and get even a moment’s relief.

Susan openly laughed out at Kikuchi’s display of frustration and anger. Maybe not the most polite response, but she couldn’t help it. It was just so satisfying seeing the Spider who had moments ago looked oh so threatening, now writhing helplessly in clear agony between Susan’s deadly thighs. And while the model normally wouldn’t take kindly at all to being called a “fat cow,” she’d been in this situation plenty of times before. Insults like that were pretty common from people who’d realized they were trapped in her hold and couldn’t escape. It was like a desperate attempt to assert some level of control when all else was lost.

Aside from maintaining her painful squeeze on Kikuchi’s midsection, Susan didn’t do anything to interfere with her opponent’s crawl toward the ropes. In fact, she even encouraged it. “Come on, Spider! Just a bit further! You can do it!” she said in the most clearly patronizing voice she could muster, and with a wide, condescending grin on her face. And just when Kikuchi was within one last good stretch of grabbing the rope, Susan placed both palms on the mat and pushed herself up while squeezing down twice as hard on the scissor hold! If she was going to make it to the ropes, Susan wanted the last few seconds before then to be as painful as possible.