FAWNatics Feedback Thread (spoilers)

Alone in her dimly lit locker room, Cassandra Beckett throws back another long pull from her bottle of whiskey. Still dressed in her ring gear, a few hours removed from her victorious FAWN debut, she doesn’t much feel like a winner. She is hunched over in her chair, her mascara run down her face from crying, looking more like she’s returned from a funeral rather than a wrestling match. She looks up to see her reflection in the mirror across from her.



“The fuck you looking at?!” the former Queen Bitch growls at the face staring back at her. Slowly, she rises from her seat and makes her way over to the mirror, stumbling on drunken, unsteady legs. Bracing herself on the shelf below the mirror, she raises her head to look at her reflection through bloodshot, puffy eyes.



“This is all your fault, you know…” she mutters to the mirror. “You’re so damned fucked up in the head that this is all you have. Even when you try to be better, you just can’t help yourself, can you? Fuckin’...” she lowers her head and lets out a heaving sob before continuing, unable to look at herself any longer. “I hope you’re happy, mom...You managed to take one last thing from me when I left. Thanks to you, I can’t help but sabotage myself…”



Seeming to have suddenly lost all of her strength all at once, the Nebraskan slumps down, her arms across the shelf being the only thing keeping her standing. With her head down, she thinks back, and she remembers the happiest day of her life...



The last few tickets holders for tonight’s L.A.W show got to their seats for tonight’s action packed main-event; the late comers unfortunately missed Cassava Onika’s upbeat and pneumatically sexy entrance, The Superfan running the ropes to burn off some nervous energy. Ladies of Adventurous Wrestling had chosen tonight’s small but packed venue for its location, being between a rowdy but briable bar and a sex toy pavilion made for great potential for tonight’s Falls Count Anywhere stipulation.



Clad in a pink top with matching short-shorts, the young rookie finished her crowd pleasing warm ups and waited in the corner with her hands gripping the top ropes, staring down the entranceway.



OUTFIT SAME AS PICTURED MINUS JEWELRY AND WITH DYED BLOND AND PINK HAIR








Cassava's bare toes tapped a rhythm against the canvas as she waited for Bitch Beckett’s arrival. Onika had less than a handful matches under her belt before she faced the indie Queen of Phoenix, Cassandra Beckett. Everyone including Onika thought she was there to be chewed up and spit out, Beckett despite her young age was considered a veteran of the sport and known for her abusive style in and out the ring. However despite the vast difference in experience and love for violence Cassava rolled her up for the pinfall and victory. The glory of her biggest win for to date and for some time in the future was dashed as quickly as they rose, as a brutal, thorough, and very humiliating beatdown at the hands of Beckett ensued before the bell stopped ringing. The rematch was just as bad, no victory from the jaws of of defeat, only a lopsided ass whuppin not seen since The Hawkeye’s of 2007. Thinking the scales were balanced in Cassandra’s twisted mind, Onika thought she was safe.



How wrong she was.



Cassava was in the middle of an interview for L.A.W’s online show when Beckett slapped a folding chair(cloth and and hard plastic, they’re an independent, don’t judge) to the back of Onika’s head. Live Streamed to L.A.W-abiding fans was the soon to be trending footage of Cassandra tying Onika’s hands behind her back with her own top and giving a blistering spanking to her battle honed behind. Not stopping till both her hands were tired, Beckets finished her ambush with a DDT on the floor leaving Cassava head down, ass up, her haunches facing the camera. Onika’s fan gave numerous messages of love and support and tired to defend her against trolls but but jeers and edited videos still leaked through. Usually the audio changed so it sounded like Cassava was enjoying the abuse, some took a racist making her spout unrepeatable things that even Beckett took offense too. She was a bitch but that doesn’t mean she abided racism.



Beckett’s defense of her led Cassava to believe that her thirst for revenge was sated, and she could wait for their rubber match in peace.



That was a mistake.



Cassava was in the locker in the middle of changing after her match, her gold black shirt embroidered with a chibi anime Kylie sanders (custom made) was past her shoulders, covering her face Cassandra snuck in and slapped her hard on the ass! Cassava yelped in equal parts pain and surprise and turned intensively toward her attacker, Beckett grabbed the shirt, trapping Onika’s arms and gave a volley of knees to the Iowan’s navel, then ramming her bent over head into the nearest locker, After Onika crumbled to floor Cassandra quickly finished the downed women’s disrobing and stuffed her insensate form into her own locker. As she left Beckett snatched Cassava’s bag filled with her togs and person things and threw it in a dumpster outside the venue. When Cassava escaped her imprisonment and found it later, the bag was covered with beer and melted cheese. And in the time since there have been numerous other attacks, and tag matches against each other lead to the same embarrassing results.



(When I take her down tonight, she’s paying my cleaning bills. That was a VINTAGE Huggable and Crushable gym bag!) Cassava mentally seethed. Her thoughts of vengeance are interrupted by the beginning of Silversun Pickups’ “Cannibal”, signalling the arrival of her opponent, rival, and tormentor.



CANNIBAL: www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYjunrxUyAc



Cassandra Beckett strutted out from behind the curtain to a shower of boos from the small crowd, bringing a joyless smile to her face. For months, she had waged a campaign of terror on the ascended superfan, trying to run Cassava out of HER territory for the crime of embarrassing her in her third pro match ever. She saw tonight as her opportunity to finally be rid of the milk chocolate pest, once and for all. She had considered wearing her usual ring gear for this match, but she ultimately decided that since this was a street fight, she ought to look the part. So instead, she wore a low-cut crop top that simultaneously showed off a decent amount of cleavage as well as her well-toned abs. A pair of daisy dukes, spike-studded leather gloves, and black leather boots that go halfway up her shins completed the outfit.



The Nebraskan Terror licked her lips in anticipation of the abuse she was going to heap upon the poor bitch as she eyed her prey hungrily from outside the ring. Cassava, meanwhile, puts on a brave face, letting her outrage mask her jitters. She avoids eye contact with her would-be bully as she bounces up and down in place in her corner and does some stretching, trying to work off some of her nervous energy before the bell sounds to start the match. This doesn’t escape Cassandra’s notice as she climbs into the ring slowly, making a rare display of shaking her ass for the fans as she steps through the ropes.



“What’sa matter, sugar?” she called out to the Milk Chocolate Mauler as she settled into a corner to wait for the match to start, her voice smooth and sweet as honey. “Scared? You oughta be.”



“Go to hell, Beckett!” Cassava shouted back, “You’re gonna pay for what you did to my stuff! And I mean that literally as well as figuratively!”



“Ohh, baby, baby, baby…” Cassandra chuckled, “...stupid hoe still don’t know her place. I think you know by now what that just earned ya.” She grinned wide, eagerly anticipating the chance to lay hands on that fat chocolate ass again and turn it red. Cassava was about to retort, but she swallowed it when she saw the ring announcer climb into the ring.



“Ladies and gentlemen..” he began, “this is our main event, scheduled for one fall, and it is a STREET FIGHT!” He pauses to let the fans whoop and holler for a bit before continuing. “In a street fight, there are no disqualifications, no countouts, and pinfalls count anywhere in the city! First, from Pleasant Valley, Iowa...She stands five feet, two inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred twenty-five pounds. She is the Girl of 1,000 Hip Attacks...CASSAVA ONIKA!!”



Cassva shot out of her corner, arm raised as she finally locked eyes with Beckett and mouths, “You’re mine, bitch!” before returning to her corner.



“And her opponent...From Red Cloud, Nebraska...She stands five feet, six inches tall, and weighs in tonight at one hundred thirty-six pounds...The Queen Bitch...CASSANDRA BECKETT!!”



Cassandra took a few steps out of her corner, arms outstretched to soak in all of the fans’ vitriol. She nonetheless kept her eyes on her prey, answering her threat with one of her own mouthing, “That’s QUEEN Bitch to you, slut! That’s another spanking.” She chuckled as she returned to her corner. After making sure both women were ready, the poor sap assigned to officiate this match signaled for the timekeeper to ring the bell to start the match.



Cassandra smirked as she pushed out of her corner...or at least, she would’ve pushed out of her corner if Cassava wasn’t already there to meet her with a stiff forearm shot to the face, followed by a lot more in rapid succession. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! The Queen Bitch grunted and flailed with each hard forearm, taken off-guard as she was by Cassava’s suddenness and aggression. Cassava wasn’t one to burn the rulebook...but when there isn’t a rulebook to burn in the first place, well...Plus, she had to admit that it felt good to let loose on the woman that’s made her life hell for the last eight months, without having to worry about the ref stepping in to stop her.



“Not so bad when I don’t have my back to ya, huh, bitch?” Cassava taunted her foe in the midst of pummelling her. Suddenly, the forearms ceased as the Girl of 1,000 Hip Attacks gasped in shock, jaw agape and eyes wide with shock and pain. The reason for this quickly became clear, as Cassandra, finally managing to clear out the cobwebs, got herself out of her predicament with a vicious crotch claw.



“No rules works both ways, sweetheart.” Cassandra purred at her adversary. With a sneer, she then took a lap around the ring, dragging the howling-in-pain Cassava along with her, parading her around for the fans, her hand still firmly affixed to her groin despite Onika’s best efforts to get herself loose. “Just so we’re clear, Oinka,” Beckett growled, using her favored derisive nickname for her victim, purposefully juxtaposing the n and the i in Cassava’s last name to make her sound more porcine, “I’m bad no matter what the circumstance. I don’t attack you from behind because I need to...I do it because I like it!”



“AAAAAGHHH!!!” Cassava screamed and wailed in agony as her nethers continued to be mauled. “GODDAMMIT, LET ME GO!!”



Cassandra grinned wide as she completed the circuit around the ring. “Sure thing, sugar.” she cooed, releasing her grip and pushing the poor girl back against the ropes as she groaned and massaged her now aching kitty. “I’ve got more in store for you anyway.” With a wink, she then proceeded to show, rather than tell, unleashing a pair of vicious knife-edge chops across Onika’s chest that set her not-unimpressive boobs jiggling, and would’ve surely taken her off her feet entirely, were it not for the ropes holding her up. She then maliciously cupped the battered girl’s chin, squeezing hard enough to pull a yelp from Cassava’s full lips.With a sneer, she then paintbrushed Cassava with a pair of disrespectful slaps to the face that reddened her left cheek. The Nebraskan then sunk a knee deep into her tummy to make sure she didn’t go anywhere. The Milk Chocolate Mauler doubled over, coughing and groaning as Cassandra dashed into the opposite end of the ropes. On the rebound, she made for her target like a freight train, sending Onika, as well as Cassandra herself, up and over the top rope and tumbling down to the floor in a move commonly referred to as a Cactus Clothesline.



CACTUS CLOTHESLINE: www.youtube.com/watch?v=nH8n2oZosXI



Cassandra rises slowly from the fall amidst a storm of cheers and jeers, the controlled descent was not painless but it was a ride at Disneyland compared to Onika’s experience. Kylie’s Number One Fan was still writhing on the barely cushioned pavement ignorant of the approaching Beckett; Cassandra drags Onika to to feet, plants her own and goes to Irish whip her into the post, only for Cassava to reverse, sending Beckett’s noggin CLANGING of the post in a spot that the crowd “OOOH.”



A dazed Cassandra holds the steel post like a middle schooler having her first slow dance, the pillar the only thing keeping keeping Beckett upright. Cassandra starts to step away-BONK! As the Queen B mentally checked for a concussion, Onika gingerly but swiftly came up behind her, jumped up knees to chest, and dropkicked Cassandra in the back of head, a painful two-for-one as the force of the blow forces Beckett’s forehead against ringpost yet again, sending her to her knees. Both fighters are more or less immobile early in the fight, the audience forgiving of this, loving the zero-to sixty intensity of the match up.



“Oh, gawd dammit, who goes for the trunks in the first minute of the fight?” Cassava muttered to herself as she rolled onto her front and slowly got to all fours, the pain in her center still radiating throughout her body. Onika slowly got to a hunched form and charily walks to Cassandra who had crawled to the barricade and was using it as crutch to get on both feet. Gripping the top of the steel bar she looked across the barrier to a group of young male fans wearing a gold FAWN FINDS t-shirt, Onika’s online show that got her into the wrestling in the first place.



“Shouldn’t you be at home masterbating to an unboxing video of Japanese toys?” she sneered to to the booing group, “That first match was a fluke, you got that! A flaaAH! GUFF!”



Mid-beration Cassava snuck behind Beckett and scooped her up in a Fireman’s carry and dropped her stomach first onto the guardrail, the cold steel digging into her belly and driving the air out of her lungs. Onika shared a couple of quick high-fives with her fans as Cassandra pawed weakly for solid ground. Onika held her high-fiving hand in the air and yelled “Who wants to see her get a taste of her own medicine?!” The crowd was ecstatic in response, never having seen Cassava as the paddler, nor Beckett as the paddlee.



The dyed blonde reared her left hand back and cracked it against Cassandra’s firm left buttcheek. The brunette gasped and is shocked to stillness, as no one in years had been brave or foolish enough to attempt this. The spectators chanted “ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME!”



Cassava grinned like Harley Quinn and wound up her arm, as the audience cries build with each circle of her arm, climaxing when Onika smacks her hand against Cassandra right buttcheek! Cassandra was squirming like she’d been electrocuted, having had her full of this humiliation, but Onika was in no mood to stop. Keeping a hand at the small of the Bitch Breaker’s back, she went to town with the other. Right cheek, left cheek, up and down the middle and little of her thighs, Onika’s hand was a blur as she lost herself in the ecstasy of karmic revenge. Cassandra thrashed and protested and tried to free herself from the public flogging.



”I’m gonna get you for this!” SPANK! “You’re just making it worse for yourself!” SPANK!



Beckett’s slightly pale bottom quickly turned a nice shade of red by the time Cassava was done paddling. Finally finished taking Cassandra to the woodshed; she shook out her left hand and blew on it, she took an appraising look at Beckett’s abused and twitching ass, “Not bad Beckett.” Years of shaking what her momma gave her for battle has trained Cassava’s eye for spotting a great ass, “Still not as good as mine though.”



The callipygian combatant pulls Cassandra off the bar by the hair and backs up a step, Cassandra hugs her middle, a small welt dug across her navel. Onika pulls Cassandra’s head back enough that her ivory tits were pointing at the lights, Onika reverses direction looking to knock Beckett out on the guardrail only for to be blocked by Cassandra sticking her right boot out straight clinking against the barrier. With a grunt Cassandra digs her talons into Onika’s dyed tresses bangs her head against the railing, making the shorter women stumble backwards, holding her ringing skull. Cassandra quickly turns to the stunned woman and doubles her over with a toe kick, as Cassava’s arms wrap around her middle Beckett takes her by the hair and shakes her like a dog with a squirrel. Onika forced to stumble along to Beckett’s whim, shrieking and yelping with eah hard tug of of her blond and pink hair.



“Alright!” yells Cassandra to the audience, “Who wants to play catch the poseur?” The fans at ringside barely have time to comprend the question when Becketts rears back and tosses Cassava into the front row like a sexy haybale. Beckett takes a moment to dust the few strands hair that tore from Cassava’s scalp off her hands and steps over the steel barrier after her favorite victim.



Onika massaged her scalp for a moment after landing in the laps of three VERY grateful fans, giving her friendly ‘pats’ all along her legs, ass, and belly. One brave female fan in the second row dared to drag a finger tip along the edge of Onika’s breast, managing to get her grope in as the stunned Superfan struggled to get off their collective laps.



“All right, all right, you sad, lonely perverts…” Cassandra chided, swatting away the fans’ still wandering hands, “hands off! Christ, if I’d known you losers were so desperate to cop a feel, I’d’a just dragged her through the damn curtain! Oh, well...what’s done is done…” She then walked over to Cassava and hauled her up by her hair, whispering to her, “Sorry about that, Onika...Whatever you think of me, and whatever our differences, nobody deserves that kinda shit. I’m still gonna beat your ass, though…” With that, she Irish whipped the Milk Chocolate Mauler as hard as she could, even dropping to her knees on the follow-through, into another group of fans, these ones having the good sense to run for the hills, leaving Onika to crash at high velocity into the empty chairs.



“See! These fans follow proper wrestling ettique, you’re supposed to move the fuck on when the fight goes to seats,” Cassandra explains to to the fans at ringside as she collects the cafe-au-lait colored woman by the front of her pink top, removing her the wreckage of displaced chairs.Beckett switches her hold to a wrist, then dips down and pulls for another Irish whip but Cassava reverses! She plants her feets and send Beckett off-but Cassandra counters! She grabs hold of Cassava’s wrist just before take-off and pulls her close, lacing her fingers around the back of the Superfan’s head she pulls her into a knee to the breadbasket. Keeping the hold Cassandra swings her to a seated position on what she believed to empty chair, that was in fact occupied by a thin, Michael Cera type wearing a Chole Fields t-shirt.









Cassava gave no notice that she was aware of the involuntary lapdance as she squirmed to get out of the Nebraskan grip, the teenager below her was dead silent, afraid he’d stop the miracle that was occuring. His friends on either side recording the the highlight with their phones, voices halfway between playful mockery, and jubilation.



After failing to dislodge Beckett’s hands from her nape, Cassava started delivering punches up and down Beckett’s middle, but unfortunately, her position atop an exhilarated young man plus Cassandra's side-to-side shaking took away some of her blow’s power. Cassava switched tactics and clipped Beckett’s chin with an uppercut, making her break hold and and back up a couple of steps. Onika tried to rise from her seated position but an overhand chop from Cassandra set her back down with her breasts wobbling. With both hands Beckett set about lighting Onika’s jugs on fire, treating the online sensation’s chest like a game of whack-a-mole, each slap making Cassava yelp with increasing pitch and volume. As Onika thrashed under Beckett’s assault, the thin fan below her was treated to her gyrations, a memory he will carry fondly till his deathbed.



“Alright, this lapdance is over,” Cassandra grumbled. Grabbing the hem of Onika’s belly shirt, Beckett pulled just far enough to blind her opponent while trapping her arms, a move popular among hockey fans that in this case showed off Cassava’s breasts in a red bra to the pleased audience. Using the the shirt as a makeshift leash she yanked Cassava off of the male fan (who had fainted by this point) and pulled a resisting Onika down the aisle toward the exit, every few steps launching a knee into the Superfan’s quickly softening midsection. As they traveled, Onika realised why Cassandra would only accept the the match under Falls Count Anywhere. Most of Onika’s main moves required the ropes and buckles, either for power or for positioning the victim. With them gone her usual strategies are out the window, and Cassava is forced to improvise in unfamiliar territory, tipping the scales further in Beckett’s favor.



Finally nearing the door, Beckett playfully slapped Cassava’s underboob before swiftly tugging down the dyed blonde’s shirt, freeing the woman’s arms and head moments before Cassandra trapped her in a front facelock in prep for a DDT. Beckett went to send Onika on a short trip with a bad landing, but the Social Media Superstar bent a knee and blocked the attempt. Cassandra tried again but Onika grabbed her hips and sent Beckett up and over with a Northern lights Suplex!



NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX

www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIGXQzAhpNU



Cassandra cried out as her back hit the concrete floor hard, unable to arch her back to try and alleviate the pain due to Cassava keeping the bridge after the impact, Cassava going for a surprise pin reminiscent of the their first encounter. The ref (who had done an admirable job of staying invisible up to this point) went to the floor for the count.



ONE



TWO



THR- ”GGRGH!”



Beckett breaks the pin with a hard punch to Cassava’s kidney moments before a match ending third slap of the floor, jolting Kylie’s stalker off Cassandra and making her curl up in pain. Both combatants struggled to their feet, but Beckett moreso, her back still on fire from Cassava’s suplex, she only made it to her knees with one hand supporting her and the other massaging her spine.



Cassava rolled across the aisle till she hit the crowd partition, reaching up she grabbed one of the many hands offered to her and stood with the fan’s help. After pausing a moment for a thank you selfie with the helpful spectator, she walked over to the still genuflecting Cassandra and started softening her up for a final blow.



Sidling up to Beckett, Cassava takes the grimacing Indie legend by the dark locks and aims carefully with with her hip. Swinging her waist like a pendulum, the side of Onika’s rump roast collides with the entirety of the left side of Cassandra’s face, the force of the hit making Beckett’s hair fly out like it was caught on a windy day. Never breaking her grip on Cassandra’s scalp, Onika lines up another shot and connects again, and again, using Cassandra’s head like a ball in a Newton’s Cradle (Hip attack 8).



www.youtube.com/watch?v=0QF99-3jRbc&t=0s&index=215&list=PLeRPsdtvusXikFAlFp0SFvMOT6E8kSips



“She looks hungry!” Cassava shouts to audience, looking to field test a catchphrase she wrote, as she pulled Beckett up by the chin, “time to feed her some Upside Down CaAA!”

Mid-banter, Cassandra reached up and raked Onika eyes! Blinded, the ultimate FAWNatic steps away with her left arm wiping her watering eyes, the other swinging wildly, hoping to fend off her attacker. Beckett rises from the ground with a furious look, her anger at being shown up in a brawl by rookie overriding any backache. Snatching the dyed blonde’s flailing arm with arm Becketts sends a backhand with the other that cranks Cassava’s neck to to side. Slightly stunned by the pimp slap, Onika turns to her attacker only to be raked across the eyes again! Cassava cries out and covers her face and turns away as stumbles up the aisle.



“You’re still wrestling in the middle of a fight! You better get your head in the right game baby,” Cassandra states menacingly as she follows her favourite punching bag along the made path. Grabbing her chocolate delight by the shoulder and spun Onika around, the rookie was still blinking away tears when Cassandra unloaded an even harsher backhand that twisted Cassava 360 degrees and sent her to the ground, the “ooohh’ of the crowd overpowering Onika’s groan. Walking to just ahead of Cassava’s prone form, Beckett grabs a handful of blonde and pink hair and drags Onika cavewoman style in painful short bursts, each tug making the ASSassin scream and writhe as her belly drags on the cool concrete.



Finally at the door, as Cassandra bends down and pulls Onika to her knees, the pint sized pugilist fires off some right hands above Beckett’s waist line, halting the taller woman’s attack for moment, only for Beckett to retaliate by RAKING Cassava’s eyes a third time! She’s definitely seeing an optometrist after this match. Beckett goes to Cassava’s side and gets a handful of her top and waist, and pulls her parallel to floor, inadvertently giving onika a searing wedgie, that gritted her teeth.



Checking her unintended handiwork with a grin, Cassandra gives Onika the bum’s rush through the door, using the top of her head as a battering ram and and sending her rolling into the parking lot. Giving the fans a quick double bird before heading outside, the referee and a cameraman hot on her heels.



The harsh pavement of a nearly full parking area acting as a wake up call for the sole member of the Kylie Corps, quickly getting to her feet and tackling a nearing Beckett in the midsection, trying to drive her back through the double doors they just exited. Beckett plants her feet as they skid back, and drives a series of elbows between the rookie’s shoulders. After countless blows Cassava falls to one knee, scraping it a bit on the rough surface, Beckett lightly slaps her on the back of her head in a dismissive gesture as she takes Cassava’s wrist and pulls her up and close, for an Irish whip into a nearby bench.

“I’m going to tan your ass red after this match,” she whispers into Onika’s ear before she whips her toward the bench-wait! Cassava keeps hold of Beckett’s wrist and pulls her into a fireman’s carry, holding her by the arm instead of the head to stop Cassandra from firing elbows as she walked to the bench.



“Gonna be hard to do that from a hospitable bed,” Cassava grunts, carrying her deeper into lot next the questionably colored green and grey bench. Deciding a Pleasant valley Driver might be dangerous for both of them, Cassava optied for a FU, looking to compound on the damage to Beckett’s back by slamming it on the edge of bench. The possible Kylie clone bends her knees shoves Cassandra into the air for a devastating-wait! Cassandra kicks out her legs and arches her back with the momentum to land on the bench feet first!



www.youtube.com/watch?v=PoW5zLKqy3Q



High flying not being part of her stye, Cassandra is a little proud of herself for the landing… and the flying forearm she hit Cassava with moments after. Grabbing the staggering Cassava by the shoulder and arm, Beckett fulfills the receipt of the earlier Irish Whip by sending bouncing off the bumper of the nearest car… which was unfortunately Cassava’s Hawkeye Gold Nissan Leaf(an electric car, she cares about climate change).



After denting her own car, Cassava was too woozy to stop Beckett from pulling her to a standing position and taking her into the air for a Scoop Slam onto the hood of her car.



SCOOP SLAM

www.youtube.com/watch?v=F470QQVOzXI



“Aargh!” Cassava arches her back and shuts her eyes from the impact, the realization that her car was taking a beating would not take fruit in her mind till hours after the match. Cassandra takes a breath with her hands on her knees and looks at the she just hurled Onika on. “Piece of shit.”



Taking a deep breath Cassandra places a foot against the car uses it to launch into the air, sticking a leg out to hit Casava across the chest with a Guillotine Leg Drop, making her roll off the hood in a crumpled heap. Beckett exhaustedly pushes off the car to stand, accidentally breaking a rearview mirror in the process. Panting lightly she turns to the camera.



“I think we’re just about finished here.”



The Nebraskan Terror walks over and places a boot on Cassava’s tits, grinding her heel into one of her nipples as the ref counted.



ONE



TWO



TH-Cassava brings a shoulder up!



Cassandra looks a little steamed as she corrals Onika into a facelock as she pulls her to her knees, “You ruined a great moment rook, just stay down so I don’t have to hurt you too badLEE!”



As Beckett pulled her up, Onika gave a short punch between Beckett’s legs, making her shudder and loosen her grip, but Cassava was still too weak to break the grip, only to rise a little higher and fire another punch, this time into Beckett’s gut. Cassandra loses some wind, but tightens the noose around Cassava’s neck, and lifts her up and over in a snap suplex that had neither snap nor much power, but she did land on Cassava’s Nissan again, further denting the hood.



“I’ll say this for ya, Oinka…” the Queen Bitch muttered in between gulping breaths of air, looking at the Girl of 1,000 Hip Attacks - sprawled out on the hood of the car - almost as if she were looking at her in a new light, “...you ain’t got no quit in ya. But all that means is that I just get to beat on ya for that much longer, which suits me fine.” She then commenced to burying heavy right fists deep into Cassava’s belly, causing the exhausted Milk Chocolate Mauler to convulse and groan with each blow. Those groans turned into outright screams when Cassandra turned those belly punches into a cruel belly claw, digging her fingers as deep as they will go into Cassava’s tummy. While Cassava kicked and thrashed and screamed under Cassandra’s cruel grip, the four-time champion grinned sadistically, twisting the claw from side to side.



“Oooooh, baby!” Cassandra cooed as she pulled her hand away, allowing Cassava to curl up in a ball and massage her aching abs. “This is almost as satisfying as spanking that fat ass of yours raw, Oinka. Credit where it’s due, sugar…” she continued as she took off her infamous weapon of choice; her studded leather belt. “...you make a DAMN sexy victim!” She then folded the leather strap over twice and then mercilessly CLAPPED it across Cassava’s midriff four times in rapid succession, causing the Internet Sensation to yelp and squirm in agony with each lash of the leather. Finally satisfied, Beckett finally relented, letting the leader of Kylie Corps slide off the car and onto the gravel, groaning pitifully. The Nebraskan Terror yanked Onika to her knees via a handful of hair, then wrapped the belt around her fist, making sure that one of the spikes was set at the middle of her hand. She then went to town on the Iowan’s forehead with a series of vicious rabbit punches, opening up a small cut on the poor girl, letting a small trickle of blood stream down the side of her pretty face.



Soon enough, the punches stopped, letting Cassava internally breathe a sigh of relief. Unfortunately for her, the Queen Bitch was not finished with her favorite instrument of torture. Onika gasped for air as Beckett wrapped the belt tightly around her neck, making sure to fasten it. She then pulled and tugged on it for a bit to strangle the Milk Chocolate Mauler and make her a little more pliant, before leaning over and saying in a pleasant voice, “I don’t know about you, sugar, but I sure could use a drink.” And with that, using the belt as a leash, she dragged Cassava along with her to the bar next door. The cameraman was savvy enough to follow a couple feet behind to make sure fans got a good look at Cassava’s rear end jiggling as she was being dragged.



Cassava, to her credit, tried to keep up with her tormentor, lest she be choked into following her the hard way, struggling to her feet and stumbling behind the cruel brunette. Unfortunately, her energy reserves are all but spent at this point, and for most of the brief journey, she was being dragged along on her hands and knees like a dog, leaving nasty-looking scrapes on both of her knees, from the asphalt. Finally arriving at the front of the bar, Casandra unfastened the leash, but still held it tight around her neck. “Losers first!” she said sweetly before using the leverage of the belt as a catapult of sorts to send Onika crashing through the swinging double doors. Kylie’s Number One Fan rolled a few times after wiping out on the floor of the bar. While the patrons scrambled for safety, startled at the sudden intrusion, the bartender and waitresses, having been warned by L.A.W. officials beforehand of the possibility of just such a thing happening, were rather nonplussed by it.



“Don’t mind us, folks!” Cassandra calls out to the barflys as she pushes through the doors. “Just a couple’a wrestlers getting their aggressions out. Y’all just keep on enjoying yersel-OOOF!!” The Queen Bitch was cut off by a knee to the breadbasket by the now-somewhat-recovered Onika. She then decided to pay the bitch back for earlier, and hooked her right hand into a talon and tore and mauled Cassie’s crotch, leading to screams of pain from the Nebraskan. “YEEEAARRRGH!!! FUCKING BITCH!!”



“What’sa matter?” Cassava taunted, “The big bad “Queen Bitch” can’t stomach her own medicine?” She snarled at her bully as she led her by the crotch over to the bar. Grabbing Cassie’s ponytail and the waist of her Daisy Dukes, making a point to pull them up into her crack in a painful wedgie, like she’d done to her before. She then lived out her bar brawl fantasy with the cliche of taking her adversary and sliding her along the length of the bar and sending her crashing down the other side. While Cassandra groaned and massaged her nethers, Cassava sauntered behind the bar, getting a little bit of swagger back in her step. She grabbed a bottle of vodka and pulled her belly shirt up to expose her bra once again. As almost an afterthought, she took a moment to assure the bartender that she’d be paying for the alcohol before pouring it all over her boobs.



“You want a drink so badly, you fucking bitch?!” Cassava growls as she hauls Cassandra up by her hair, before shoving her face in between her vodka-soaked boobs, locking her hands behind the Nebraskan Terror’s head to keep it in place. “HERE!! HERE’S YOUR FUCKING DRINK!! HERE’S YOUR FUCKING DRINK, YOU FUCKING BITCH!!” she screamed at her as she smothered her. Cassandra flailed and slapped at Cassava’s back and butt ineffectively as she tried to free herself. Expecting the brunette brawler to resort to some kind of dirty tactic to get herself free, Cassava voluntarily gave up the titty smother before Beckett had the chance to do so. Beckett coughed and wheezed, trying to get proper airflow into her lungs again, only for Onika to grab a TIGHT handful of her hair and drag her over to one of the pool tables on the other end of the bar. “Time to go for a ride, you miserable cunt!” Cassava snarls, throwing one of Cassie’s arms over her head and hooked her shorts, preparing to suplex the brunette onto the pool table. However, when she bore down to lift her opponent up, Cassandra blocked the attempt. Another attempt, another block, and then Cassandra turned them around. Having recovered sufficiently, and Cassava’s strength seeming to run out again, very little resistance came as Cassie hoisted the Milk Chocolate Mauler up and dropped her unceremoniously onto the felt-lined table with a bone-rattling X-Plex!



X-PLEX: www.youtube.com/watch?v=qsUBfJQh4ek



Cassava landed with a THUD, and her cries of pain melded with the shocked “OHHHH!!”s from the patrons who were getting an unexpected free show, cracks spiderwebbed through the pooltable, just barely holding it’s form. Onika arched her back and rolled to her side a little to ease the pain however she could, Cassandra grabbed her hair and yanked and dragged her to a corner of the pool table, giving her a trifecta of clubbing forearms to her jiggling chest to try and persuade her to keep still. She then strolls over to the nearby rack and takes a pool cue and quickly chalks it up. She then sets the cue ball and the nearest billiard ball, and took aim.



“Eight ball in the meat pocket.” Cassandra called her shot, and then launched the cue ball into the eight ball as hard as she could, sending it careening into Cassava’s cooch with pinpoint accuracy at a very high speed. A sympathetic groan from the barflies again drowned out Onika’s howls of pain at having her crotch assaulted yet again. She didn’t have long to tend to her throbbing loins, though, as Cassandra followed up the creative attack by walking back over to her and smashing the cue over her head, breaking it in half upon impact. She wasn’t finished, though, unfortunately for the Internet Sensation, as she took the now jagged end of the cue stick and jammed it into Cassava’s throat. Cassava gasped and coughed at the stick’s impact, grasping at her throat, her eyes wide with shock at having her airways cut off, however temporarily.



Meanwhile, Cassandra licked her lips as she eyed Cassava’s prone body predatorily, considering her next move. Having gotten an idea, she begun to bite her lower lip, nodding to herself as she climbed up on the pool table. She decided to give the folks a show as she crawled her way sexily over to Cassava, and gave her a full-body press pin, pushing her whole body down onto Cassava’s, while the referee slapped the wooden edge of the table.



ONE!

TWO!!

THR-NOOOO!!



Cassava’s body shivered as her arm jerked off the table, her show of guts getting respectful applause and cheers from the bar patrons. Cassandra, likewise, had a bit of a twinkle in her eye, as she loomed over her rival. Cassava looked up at her apprehensively, waiting for the next hammer to fall. Instead of fists, Cassandra lowered herself to Cassava, looking her in the eye and smiling seductively, a look that did not escape the Milk Chocolate Mauler’s notice and made her skin crawl. The brunette beauty then pressed her lips to Cassava’s in a soft kiss that elicited a chorus of catcalls from the barflys, followed by a long lick of Cassava’s cheek that caused her to grimmace in revulsion.



“Not bad.” Cassandra commended her opponent, “You’re a lot tougher than I gave ya credit for.” She then climbed off of her and the pool table and purred in her ear, “Now, it’s time for your reward!”



Cassava blinked, “W-wha-?” she wearily answered, then yelped in shock and pain as the Queen Bitch roughly pulled her off the pool table by the hair, and then pulled her into a tight side headlock, and walked her around the bar, swatting away the random wandering hand, looking to cop a feel off of either of them. Finally arriving at her destination, Cassie then used Cassava’s head as a battering ram, figuratively kicking the door to the women’s restroom open and barging in with the ref and cameraman in tow.



“Scram!” The Queen Bitch barked at the two women at the bathroom sinks, retouching up their makeup, “The little lady and I need a moment or two!” The ladies needed no instruction, though, as they were already scrambling screaming for the door before the first word was out of Beckett’s mouth. After checking each stall to make sure they were alone, the Queen Bitch shoved Onika into one of the stalls and dunked her head in the (thankfully completely clean) toilet. Cassava flailed and thrashed as she tried to hold her breath underwater, until Cassandra let her up. Cassava gasped and wheezed, trying to get air back into her lungs when Cassandra gave her an open-handed SLAP right between her shoulder blades. “Hold still!” she barked before grabbing a tight handful of Onika’s now-wet hair to try and control the mocha-skinned beauty as she began to rhythmically smack her crotch against Onika’s bountiful backside!



Cassava squeaked in pitiful protest and squirmed when she realized what was happening, but that only earned her a sharp swat to her juicy and jiggling rear end, which drew a pained yelp from the leader of Kylie Corps. “Ain’t gonna lie,” Cassandra purred in Cassava’s ear as the dry humping continued unabated, “I’ve been waiting for this for a looooong damn time!” She kissed Cassava’s neck as her hands greedily wandered all over her voluptuous curves, squeezing and slapping her ass and boobs and caressing her soft, sexy tummy. “And you can’t tell me you ain’t enjoying yourself, with those noises you’re making.”



Cassava hated to admit it, but Beckett was right. Her whimpering and keening cries of pleasure betrayed her, making it unable to deny truthfully. It’s been SO LONG for the poor girl since she’s been touched by anything other than her right hand. Even this, through their clothes as it is, feels REALLY GOOD. (Maybe…) she thought as her moans got a little louder and Beckett continued to tug on her hair and spank her ass with abandon while the humping continued, (...I mean...She IS really hot...nnngh! Gawwwwd, this feels so good! Maybe...If I let her...maybe she’ll leave me alone? I mean...it wouldn’t be SO bad...right?)



“NO!!!” Cassava screamed, vocally rejecting her traitorous thoughts. Cassandra frowned (although she didn’t let it interrupt her sexual domination), and opened her mouth to reply. However, she was cut off by a thrust from Cassava’s powerful posterior. Generating much more force than Beckett thought was possible from her position, Onika created waves of tension starting from her toes and neck, and released them at the same time while popping her hips, bucking Cassandra off like a bull at a rodeo, she only had moments to process it before the back of her head smacked against the stall door hinge(hip attack 117).



Cassandra let out a pained groan as she cupped the back of her head, Onika flopped to a seat on the toilet, trying to catch her breath, one arm against the wall the other 3 limbs hanging off the porcelain seat. Cassandra shook her head angrily, which she instantly regretted as sparks went off behind her eyes.



“You wanna get rough? I can get rough, baby,” her voice halfway between a purr and a growl, and she prowled forward to resume her dominance, but it looked like the Superfan was playing possum as she sprung forward like a coiled trap, ensnaring Beckett in a guillotine choke!



GUILLOTINE CHOKE

www.youtube.com/watch?v=rd82iJSxIo8



The Nebraskan brunette gasped and gurgled as Onika cinched in the chokehold. (NO!) She screamed inwardly, her words being choked off. Cassandra had taken a fair amount of abuse, early on in the match - far more than she had anticipated taking - and while she’d been dominating for quite some time now, she could feel her second wind slipping away, sped along by this trap that the pesky rookie just sprung on her. She had to think quickly, or the match was lost. Summoning her last deep reserves of energy, the Queen Bitch locked her hands around Cassava’s torso and stood up, albeit rather slowly, bringing the Internet Sensation with her. She then commenced to twisting side to side frantically, slamming Cassava against the walls of the bathroom stall, trying desperately to jostle her loose. Onika grunted and groaned through gritted teeth with each slam, and her grip loosened a little, it wasn’t quite enough to shake her loose. After several unsuccessful attempts, Cassandra then tried lifting Cassava up a little higher, then bringing her crashing down, back-first, against the porcelain throne in a pseudo-power bomb. Again, the Girl of 1,000 Hip Attacks yelped in pain, but held fast, almost losing her grip on her foe, but not quite.



Beckett’s mind raced, desperately looking for a way out of this. As spots began forming in front of her, she knew she had one shot left; If this failed, it was all over. Summoning her last bit of strength, she again lifted Cassava up. Expecting another power bomb attempt, the Milk Chocolate Mauler bore down on the guillotine and braced herself for impact. Instead, Cassandra took a couple steps back, their bodies pushing the stall door open. Once she braced for impact herself, the four-time champion fell backward, hitting the tile floor at a high rate of speed. Cassava, however, got the worst of it, as the unexpected, sudden move led to her face slamming into the nearby sink!



“AAAAARGH!! FUCK!!” Cassava cried out as the chokehold was finally broken, the Iowan letting go and rolling aside, moaning in agony as she checked her nose and mouth for blood or missing teeth (thankfully, a “no” on both counts). Meanwhile, the Queen Bitch, finally freed, groaned in pain as she tried to work out the pain in her back, not to mention getting the air back into her lungs. Once that task had been accomplished, and she got her bearings, a red mist descended upon the cruel veteran. She came THIS CLOSE to letting this match slip through her fingers, all because she let her libido do the thinking for her! She growled animalistically as her gaze fell upon the object of her lust and rancor, and resolved that she would not get another chance to steal a win from her again. Luckily for her, Beckett realized that Onika was pretty much out of gas herself, and that chokehold was her last gasp. Being almost on empty herself, she realized that if Cassava had had anything left in her tank, that guillotine would’ve been the end. It was time to end this, she decided. But first, she was going to make her pay.



She slowly got to her feet and stalked her prey. Slowly, Onika became aware of Cassandra looming over her, and she tried to back away, an attempt to buy herself more time rather than a show of cowardice. Cassandra, while enraged, still had the presence of mind to see the stalling tactic for what it was and gave the pretty Sri Lankan girl no quarter, as she quickly grabbed one of Cassava’s ankles as she tried to kick at her to keep her back, and then the other one. She pulled her prey’s legs apart, letting the anticipation hang for a moment while Onika desperately shakes her head, pleading for Cassandra to not do whatever it was she was planning. She then dropped a knee square onto Cassava’s crotch, the tender nerves still alight from the dry humping earlier. The poor girl howled in agony as her tormentor sneered at her and took up position between her legs. She then unloaded on the leader of Kylie Corps, punching her, full force, in the groin over and over again, five times in total. Cassava wailed and sobbed and her body shuddered as her genitals were being mangled, each shot sending a convulsion through her frame . The cries doing nothing to sate her anger, the Nebraskan Terror then surged forward, her claws sinking deep into Onika’s C-cups, her bra doing very little to protect the tender flesh beneath. Cassava screamed and flailed and she grasped Cassandra’s wrists, trying to prise her off of her tits. However, with almost all of her strength gone, it was clear that this mauling wasn’t going to end until the Queen Bitch was good and ready to end it.



After another couple minutes, which must have seemed like an eternity to Onika, Cassandra finally relented, releasing her aching mammaries, and she then pulled her up to her feet by her hair and dragged her back out of the bathroom. “Alright, who wants ta see me knock this bitch around some more?” she called out to the patrons, who answered with a hearty cheer. “Then kindly clear out from the bar, so I can go to work!” The customers, whether out of wanting to see just what Beckett had in mind or simply a sense of self-preservation, all dismounted their bar stools and backed away. Smiling pleasantly for the crowd, Cassandra then threw Cassava, head-first, into the side of the bar, then dragged her back onto her feet again, not giving the spent Milk Chocolate Mauler any room to breathe. She then began slamming Onika’s head on the bar itself, bouncing her head along the length of the counter like a basketball. The callous crowd, not much caring which of them was the hero or villain, counted each slam of Onika’s head until they reached the end of the bar. Above the noise of the fight, the cameras picked up a conversation going on amongst the onlookers.



“See that?” a statuesque blonde said with a grin as she tapped her companion, a petite black girl with pink and purple hair, on the chest, “That’s gonna be us in six months, you watch.”



“The white girl,” the black girl replied, “or the black chick?”



“Both, honestly.” the blonde shrugged, “I mean, yeah, we’re gonna be handing out the beatings more often than not, but I’m not gonna lie; We’re gonna get our asses kicked a bunch, too.” the multicolored-haired girl nodded thoughtfully as the fighters reached the end of the bar.



Having used Onika’s head as a basketball down the entire length of the bar, Beckett let the rookie slump, groaning, to the floor as she walked round and behind the bar. After assuring the bartender that she wasn’t going to hurt him, and consulting him regarding the tap hoses, she chose one and proceeded to douse Cassava with the beer of her choice. The short girl screamed and protested and tried to block the shockingly powerful spray, but Beckett changing her target going up and down Onika’s body, from her face and mouth, to her breasts, then her soggy shorts and back up again.



“Guhf!... Stulp!... Blerg!”



“Wet t-shirt, bitch!” Cassandra taunted gleefully as her target shrieked in disgust at being covered with beer, “I know your dirty hoe ass knows all about that! Speaking of that luscious ass of yours…” she purred as she handed the hose back to the bartender with a pleasant “Thanks.” She then went back over to Cassava, again gripping her by the hair and dragging her, on her hands and knees like a dog, over to an empty chair. “It’s time you got your punishment for your sass! Come here!” She then sat down in the chair and pulled Onika across her lap. Licking her lips lustfully, she caressed Cassava’s massive derriere and, after YANKING her shorts into a painful wedgie that fully exposed her rear as well as drawing a pained yelp from Onika and a lewd cheer from the onlookers, she went to work on giving Cassava her promised spanking. Starting with a trifecta of sharp slaps to her right cheek, then her left, Cassandra delivered the spanking deliberately and methodically, making a point of rubbing the jiggling flesh after each volley. The small crowd cheered their encouragement at the corporal punishment, mesmerized by Cassava’s rippling ass cheeks. Conspicuous by their absence was the pair from minutes before, likely so turned on by the display that they ducked out to enjoy some carnal fun of their own in the nearby alleyway.



“Couldn’t just go with the flow, could ya?!” The Queen Bitch berated Onika as the public flogging continued unabated. “I was feeling good, you were feeling REALLY good, judging by the sounds you were making. Wasn’t that better than this, Oinka?” Cassava gave no answer, save for pained squeals with each meeting of palm to ass meat as she squirmed in Cassandra’s lap. Finally, although she was loathe to cease reddening Cassava’s behind, Cassandra pushed the Internet Sensation off her lap and slowly pulled her back up to a standing position by the back of her shirt. She then spun her around to face her, looked her right in the eyes, and flipped her the double bird before kicking her in the gut and delivering her signature finisher: The Bitch Breaker!



BITCH BREAKER: www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0B1mZbOY5U



Cassandra scrambled to her feet and posed for the small crowd and high-fived a couple of them before planting a boot on one of Cassava’s boobs for the academic pin to mercifully end this brutal match.



ONE!



TWO!!



THREE!!!



As the surprisingly competent ref lifted Beckett’s hand, flames licked along the curve of her spine and spread throughout her body. Trying to mask the hurt and only partly succeeding, she looked down at the humbled Cassava who only had the strength to turn onto her stomach, the bar floor’s rough surface stinging her abused bottom.



“You made me work for this one, baby. Now you’re gonna be my dessert.”



With that ominous statement, Cassandra shimmied Onika’s top off her weakened form, twisted it into a makeshift rope and used it to tightly bind her victim’s wrists behind her back. Taking the wet and dripping woman into her arms like a new bride, Cassandra sets her down on top of the bar somewhat gently. Cassava groaned weakly as she tried in vain to free her hands, her beer soaked breasts barely covered by a red bra, heaving to and fro. A smiling Beckett enjoys the show as she took off her belt and used it to bind Cassava’s feet, setting her up as a sacrifice to the goddess of jobbers.



Stepping behind the bar Cassandra pushed a concerned bartender out of the way while she grabbed a saltshaker. Pouring some into her leather gloved palm, Cassandra literally rubbed salt into the wound by grinding her palm into Onika’s forehead. The dyed blonde grit her teeth and squinted her eyes against the burning, the exposed nerves amplifying the pain, making her choke back a scream. The barflys watching have grown increasingly uncomfortable at the violence now that the match wass over.



Spotting a favorite brand of tequila Beckett grabbed the bottle with one hand and sprinkled a little salt on to Cassava’s navel. The Nebraskan Terror poured herself a shot and raised it to the people “For all of you,” she turned and pointed to the camera “and all of you watching this on whatever… Here’s to ya!



Beckett bent down and took a looong lick of Cassava tummy, enjoying the intoxicating mix of beer, sweat, and Onika’s skin a lot more than she thought she would. Quickly downing the shot, Cassandra basically slammed the glass on the bar counter.



“Whew! That really gives it a kick! Let’s get a second opinion.”



Taking the bottle of tequila she poured it directly onto the pit of Cassava’s stomach, then slowly slurped, licked, lapped, sucked, and kissed it up. Long after the alcohol was gone from Onika’s skin. A strange haze took over Beckett’s mind as she stared at Onika’s stirring chest and went for the bottle again, looking to repeat the process on the Online Sensation’s perky hills. Cassandra hooked a finger around the red strap-



”Stop!”



A strong but feminine voice with a slight German accent permeated the room, in the Doorway stood L.A.W’s top babyface and scourge of heels everywhere, Victoria the Valiant. Clad in halter top style paladin armor, she was the tallest person in the bar and an imposing sight, even more so with the posse of wrestlers from both heel and face camps.



“Aww, why dont’cha fuck off and mind yer own business, Vic!” Cassandra pouted as she looked up at the approaching wrestlers. “I ain’t hurtin’ her...Well...not anymore, I ain’t.”



“You’re practically committing sexual assault, Beckett,” the Valiant One remarked, “in a public place, no less.”



“Seriously!” one of the other girls exclaimed in exasperation as another wrestler approached them with a spare ringside robe to cover her up with. “What if one of these people called the damn cops! You have any idea the legal problems that’d cause Bobby? Not to mention the people that run this place!”



Beckett frowned and backed off, saying nothing because she knew they had a point. She had let herself get carried away, twice allowing her libido to override her common sense. So she stood there, behind the bar, and silently took the dressing down from Victoria while two of the other wrestlers helped the barely conscious Cassava off the bar.



“If you had pulled this garbage at the arena, that would - BARELY - be another matter. But you dragged his poor girl over here, and for what? To further humiliate her in public? Haven’t you done enough to her? And how much damage have you done to this place? Damage that Bobby is gonna have to foot the bill for!”



While Victoria berated the veteran, the other two wrestlers unbound Cassava’s feet and wrists. The one with the robe stood up, Cassandra’s belt in hand. “Here, take your fucking belt back!” She barked at her as she threw the belt at her. Cassandra glared at her as she caught it and held it at her side. “Seriously, do you ever think about anyone but yourself? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”



The other girl covered Cassava with the robe and helped her out of the bar, followed by th belt-thrower, who shot Cassandra one final look of disgust before leaving. “You need to take a good, hard look in the mirror, Beckett.” Victoria gave her some parting advice as she turned to leave, “You’ve always been a bitch...but this? This is something different entirely. You need to get a hold of your life, girl.” And with that, the Valiant One turned to leave, leaving the rest of the bar patrons to return to their business now that the excitement was over. Beckett just stood there, eyes on the door for a few minutes. Then, as she put her belt back on, a small smile stretched across her lips.



Cassandra smiled warmly as she took a final swig from her whiskey bottle before looking in the mirror again, her expression softening with the memory.



It was that night when everything changed, the voice in the back of her head whispered, when your animus for her became love...real love. The first time you’d actually felt it for another human being.



But, in the end...what does it matter? The sibilant voice turned sinister, taunting.



Cassava will never love you...and why SHOULD she, after everything you’ve done to her?



Hell, why should ANYBODY love you? Look at you!



“Stop it…”



You’re pathetic! And you try to mask your patheticness by being such a miserable slag of a bitch that nobody sane would want to be around you!



“Shut up!”



Mom was right about you all along. For all you’ve accomplished, you’re nothing! A piece of shit, white trash whore!



“I SAID SHUT UP!!” Cassandra shrieks as she swings the empty bottle at the mirror, smashing it into pieces, hoping that it’ll make the voice cease. She then slumps to her knees, sobbing pitifully. Then, she notices the small pool of blood on the floor, coming from her hand where the glass had cut her hand. “Shit…” she groans as she slowly pushes to her feet and shambles to the infirmary to see to her wound.