Post by boobytrap on Feb 4, 2019 1:39:05 GMT
A NEW DIVISON?
CASSAVA BLAZES A NEW PATH!
“HHEELLLOOO FAWNATICS!!!” she yells into a microphone, “It’s me! Your Milk Chocolate Mauler! The Woman of 1000 Hip Attacks! Cassava Onika!”
Tonight’s crowd popped huge for the young rookie wrestler and long-time internet personality. The die-hard, and most likely final, member of the Kylie Corps stood alone in the ring beside a table covered by a red satin cloth. Creating a tent from beneath the satin drape, a large rectangular object teased the spectators with its mystery.
“Welcome to the first live edition broadcast of FAWN Finds! We're coming to you live from the FAWN Arena in Orlando, Florida!!” The fans go wild for the admittedly cheap, but traditional, pop at the mention their town’s name. Cassava's long-time fans start a chant that the rest of the crowd soon picks up.
CA-SSA-VA!
CA-SSA-VA!
CA-SSA-VA!
The dyed pink and blonde haired woman smiles brightly at the chorus and dances in place a bit, swaying her shapely hips to the beat, the sensual effect intensified by the sleek black dress she wears instead of her usual sleeveless top and short-shorts ring attire.
Cassava's body is encased in a silhouette hugging black sequined dress with a plunging neckline that leaves her shoulders bare. Her perky and often overlooked bosom jiggled braless and free beneath the gown that ended mid-thigh, but had long fringe that continued down to her feet.
“Wooo! Thank you, guys. I love you!!”
She smiles brighter as smattering of “We love you too” echoed back.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m wearin' my Sunday best,” Cassava joked, running her hands down the front of the dress, smoothing the material to emphasize her bosom. Whistles and catcalls fill the air as she steps closer to the hard camera. “As most of you know, I’ve been doing my show for a long-time; basically since I could talk and work a webcam by myself (with parental supervision of course).”
She pauses, musing on how her passions and dedication shaped her life. “…as I was saying. I’ve interviewed a lot of people, not just wrestlers, but referees, cameramen, marketing consultants...even prop masters.” The short but voluptuous rookie waves an arm at her surroundings. “To make all this happen, it takes a lot of effort by a lot people...a lot that goes unseen or unappreciated. So, I always try to make sure they get the chance to shine every once in a while.”
This earned a respectable ovation from the fans, many of whom no doubt feel overlooked in their day-to-day lives and are extremely loyal to the curvaceous combatant for her displays of compassion.
Cassava nods her thanks to the applause, then continues. “I’m not saying this pat myself on the back or anything, but quite a few people I interviewed told me my show was a big help in getting their dreams to next level. That's something I’m proud of,” she says cheerfully.
“Apparently, a bunch of these people got together one day and decided to get me an unnecessary… but extremely thoughtful gift. One I decided to share with y'all. Drumroll please!”
A fast percussion rif played through the arena speakers, aided by thousands of people doing the hambone in FAWN tradition for a drumroll request. Onika bends and grabs the hem of the cloth covering, pausing to shake her ass to the beat for a few moments to build anticipation and raise the heart-rate of those watching. When the tension reaches its peak, the Online Sensation whipped off the sheet, revealing the mystery to a reaction from the assembly that nearly doubled as the camera zoomed in and the implication of the days ahead ran through the people’s minds.
On the table in a glass box was a beautiful, new championship belt; lustrous gold on rich black leather, the large center plate inscribed “Female Association of Wrestling Novas” in black letters in small Impact font at the top, bookended by buds of gleaming silver. Below the branding was a molding of the Earth...which on close inspection showed a small dot on America where Cassava’s home town of Pleasant Valley could be located. On the right and left sides of the Earth were the words BUNS and OF respectively while below the sphere, the curved word DESTRUCTION was scripted in the gold as both a promise and a threat. The smaller side plates of the belt had the acronym BMD chiselled in gold letters on black metal, the trio of letters would be the top trending hashtag on twitter for the next 48 hours.
“Isn’t it awesome?” gushed Onika, looking back and forth between the belt and the camera. “I cried for an hour after opening the box." Setting the microphone down, Cassava takes the belt out of the box and wraps it around her waist. Her adorably beautiful face, scrunches up in comical confusion, one eyebrow raised as she shifted from one foot to the other, trying to fit the title around her sequin covered waist, then Cassava slides the belt 180 degrees, cinching it tight. The dyed pink and blonde battler turns her back to the camera, showing the curve of the center plate resting comfortably on the shelf of her round booty.
The Iowan grabs the mic up from the table, holds it to her lips, and declares, “It fits great!” over her shoulder, slowly rolling her hips to the approving whistles of the crowd. Finishing the tease with a two second twerk, Cassava walks to center ring. “I want to thank everyone who contributed to this. I'm truly thankful and touched. I never thought my first title would be so well-suited my area of expertise,” she draws out the tease saying "expertise" as she pats the leather on her waist.
“I know most wrestlers when getting a custom belt would be content putting it on a shelf above the fireplace. But I CAN’T have a title and not defend the belt.” Cassava pauses as the crowd gives a cheer. “Yeah! Now this is not an ‘officially’ recognized title (yet), but every wrestler knows the importance of having gold to your name and elevating its importance in the industry. In the coming weeks I’ll be informing you of the rules this title will be defended by... and who the first of my many opponents will be. But rest assured, if you think you got the buns to take it from me, step right up and..."
The lights suddenly go out, plunging the arena into darkness!
The sound of someone being hit numerous times echo in the blackness.
The arena lights flash back on, and...
Everyone.
Starts.
Screaming.
Standing in the ring is FAWN’s original Booty Queen; a former world champion, the "Phenom from Fort Worth" and leader of the now defunct "Dangerous Curves" herself... Lakeisha Bates! She's dressed ready for a match in a gold bikini bottom with black edges and matching bandeau top and black boots.
The return of the "Girl from the Ghetto" alone would be enough make the fans go nuts, but the sight of the smirking Bates holding a disheveled Cassava in her patented Inverted Pedigree known as the "Rumpshaker" sent them over the edge! They drowned the Ebony heel with cheers or jeers as Lakeisha pulsed her thighs, forcing Cassava to involuntarily moan into her crotch. She held Onika’s wrists so her arms were useless except her frantically flexing fingers; her feet kicking wildly as Cassava tried in vain to buck the veteran off; but her strappy pumps couldn’t get purchase on the canvas and Bates seemed to be made of marble - judging by the ungodly pressure her thighs were applying to Onika’s noodle in her Headscissors.
After letting the suspense build to a fever pitch, Lakeisha suddenly dropped to her knees, smashing the Superfan’s face between her glamorous glutes and the mat!
“You thought Da Man could keep me away!” Bates growls as she grinds her dominant derriere on Cassava’s face as she screams out at the fans, “I BUILT THIS COMPANY!”
Treating the nearly unconscious rookie to a few more bumps of her undercarriage, Bates unclasps the belt from Onika’s waist and tosses it aside. Then as she dismounts, Lakeisha holds up her hand to show it to the crowd, then swings her arm down an gives a parting SLAP to the place where Onika’s legs meet. Cassave gives a shudder then drifts off with the taste of Bate’s nether regions on her lips.
Getting to her feet Lakeisha tears Cassava’s new, and formerly favorite, dress off her body, putting several long tears in the material before throwing it through the ropes out onto the arena floor, leaving Onika naked except for her custom-made Kylie Corps gold and black panties and the one shoe she hadn't lost when Lakeisha hit her finisher!
“You really thought you could make a booty belt and not immediately present it to the woman with the greatest ass in wrestling...no, scratch that... in the WORLD!?” Lakeisha arrogantly askes the sleeping rookie.
Lakeisha wedges a boot under Cassava's ribs, rolling her unresisting body over onto her stomach, her exposed breasts jiggling and rolling before settling on either side of her chest. Eagle-eyed fans noticed Bates' expression when she saw Cassava’s ass for the first time...her ever-present smirk faltering for just a moment before it was replaced by a mask of cool confidence. Bates picks up the discarded title belt and holds it overhead as she poses with her boot pressing down flattening Onika’s bare, upturned, booty while Lakeisha stares down at what, in her mind, are Onika's clearly inferior buns.
This is the money shot for the Gladiatrix photographers...the one moment both women will remember long after their careers come to an end. It's a seminal moment; the one defining act that puts all events that follow into context.
“I can take this belt from you any time I want, Oreo..." Lakeisha sneers dismissively, as if speaking to the unconscious Cassava, but in reality, her words are for the TV cameras and the crowd. Onika will only hear the words much later. "... but I want to beat you; take it from you and them make you strap it around my waist yourself.”
Lakeisha drops the belt on Cassava’s butt with a soft splat, then turns around and as she heads out of the ring she makes sure she steps on the rookie’s back as she heads to the steps where she flings a final insult over her shoulder, “Fake ass Nebraska.”
Bates’ walk up the ramp to the dressing rooms is serenaded by the loud and mixed reaction of the spectators. Most booed with all their heart, yet a good portion of the crowd chanted, “WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK!”
At the top of the ramp, Lakeisha turns to face the crowd. “It’s time FAWN remembers who the top draws really are!” Bates says before dramatically pulling the curtain aside then disappearing behind it, letting the curtain drop as she vanishes from sight.
Tonight’s crowd popped huge for the young rookie wrestler and long-time internet personality. The die-hard, and most likely final, member of the Kylie Corps stood alone in the ring beside a table covered by a red satin cloth. Creating a tent from beneath the satin drape, a large rectangular object teased the spectators with its mystery.
“Welcome to the first live edition broadcast of FAWN Finds! We're coming to you live from the FAWN Arena in Orlando, Florida!!” The fans go wild for the admittedly cheap, but traditional, pop at the mention their town’s name. Cassava's long-time fans start a chant that the rest of the crowd soon picks up.
CA-SSA-VA!
CA-SSA-VA!
CA-SSA-VA!
The dyed pink and blonde haired woman smiles brightly at the chorus and dances in place a bit, swaying her shapely hips to the beat, the sensual effect intensified by the sleek black dress she wears instead of her usual sleeveless top and short-shorts ring attire.
Cassava's body is encased in a silhouette hugging black sequined dress with a plunging neckline that leaves her shoulders bare. Her perky and often overlooked bosom jiggled braless and free beneath the gown that ended mid-thigh, but had long fringe that continued down to her feet.
“Wooo! Thank you, guys. I love you!!”
She smiles brighter as smattering of “We love you too” echoed back.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m wearin' my Sunday best,” Cassava joked, running her hands down the front of the dress, smoothing the material to emphasize her bosom. Whistles and catcalls fill the air as she steps closer to the hard camera. “As most of you know, I’ve been doing my show for a long-time; basically since I could talk and work a webcam by myself (with parental supervision of course).”
She pauses, musing on how her passions and dedication shaped her life. “…as I was saying. I’ve interviewed a lot of people, not just wrestlers, but referees, cameramen, marketing consultants...even prop masters.” The short but voluptuous rookie waves an arm at her surroundings. “To make all this happen, it takes a lot of effort by a lot people...a lot that goes unseen or unappreciated. So, I always try to make sure they get the chance to shine every once in a while.”
This earned a respectable ovation from the fans, many of whom no doubt feel overlooked in their day-to-day lives and are extremely loyal to the curvaceous combatant for her displays of compassion.
Cassava nods her thanks to the applause, then continues. “I’m not saying this pat myself on the back or anything, but quite a few people I interviewed told me my show was a big help in getting their dreams to next level. That's something I’m proud of,” she says cheerfully.
“Apparently, a bunch of these people got together one day and decided to get me an unnecessary… but extremely thoughtful gift. One I decided to share with y'all. Drumroll please!”
A fast percussion rif played through the arena speakers, aided by thousands of people doing the hambone in FAWN tradition for a drumroll request. Onika bends and grabs the hem of the cloth covering, pausing to shake her ass to the beat for a few moments to build anticipation and raise the heart-rate of those watching. When the tension reaches its peak, the Online Sensation whipped off the sheet, revealing the mystery to a reaction from the assembly that nearly doubled as the camera zoomed in and the implication of the days ahead ran through the people’s minds.
On the table in a glass box was a beautiful, new championship belt; lustrous gold on rich black leather, the large center plate inscribed “Female Association of Wrestling Novas” in black letters in small Impact font at the top, bookended by buds of gleaming silver. Below the branding was a molding of the Earth...which on close inspection showed a small dot on America where Cassava’s home town of Pleasant Valley could be located. On the right and left sides of the Earth were the words BUNS and OF respectively while below the sphere, the curved word DESTRUCTION was scripted in the gold as both a promise and a threat. The smaller side plates of the belt had the acronym BMD chiselled in gold letters on black metal, the trio of letters would be the top trending hashtag on twitter for the next 48 hours.
“Isn’t it awesome?” gushed Onika, looking back and forth between the belt and the camera. “I cried for an hour after opening the box." Setting the microphone down, Cassava takes the belt out of the box and wraps it around her waist. Her adorably beautiful face, scrunches up in comical confusion, one eyebrow raised as she shifted from one foot to the other, trying to fit the title around her sequin covered waist, then Cassava slides the belt 180 degrees, cinching it tight. The dyed pink and blonde battler turns her back to the camera, showing the curve of the center plate resting comfortably on the shelf of her round booty.
The Iowan grabs the mic up from the table, holds it to her lips, and declares, “It fits great!” over her shoulder, slowly rolling her hips to the approving whistles of the crowd. Finishing the tease with a two second twerk, Cassava walks to center ring. “I want to thank everyone who contributed to this. I'm truly thankful and touched. I never thought my first title would be so well-suited my area of expertise,” she draws out the tease saying "expertise" as she pats the leather on her waist.
“I know most wrestlers when getting a custom belt would be content putting it on a shelf above the fireplace. But I CAN’T have a title and not defend the belt.” Cassava pauses as the crowd gives a cheer. “Yeah! Now this is not an ‘officially’ recognized title (yet), but every wrestler knows the importance of having gold to your name and elevating its importance in the industry. In the coming weeks I’ll be informing you of the rules this title will be defended by... and who the first of my many opponents will be. But rest assured, if you think you got the buns to take it from me, step right up and..."
The lights suddenly go out, plunging the arena into darkness!
The sound of someone being hit numerous times echo in the blackness.
The arena lights flash back on, and...
Everyone.
Starts.
Screaming.
Standing in the ring is FAWN’s original Booty Queen; a former world champion, the "Phenom from Fort Worth" and leader of the now defunct "Dangerous Curves" herself... Lakeisha Bates! She's dressed ready for a match in a gold bikini bottom with black edges and matching bandeau top and black boots.
The return of the "Girl from the Ghetto" alone would be enough make the fans go nuts, but the sight of the smirking Bates holding a disheveled Cassava in her patented Inverted Pedigree known as the "Rumpshaker" sent them over the edge! They drowned the Ebony heel with cheers or jeers as Lakeisha pulsed her thighs, forcing Cassava to involuntarily moan into her crotch. She held Onika’s wrists so her arms were useless except her frantically flexing fingers; her feet kicking wildly as Cassava tried in vain to buck the veteran off; but her strappy pumps couldn’t get purchase on the canvas and Bates seemed to be made of marble - judging by the ungodly pressure her thighs were applying to Onika’s noodle in her Headscissors.
After letting the suspense build to a fever pitch, Lakeisha suddenly dropped to her knees, smashing the Superfan’s face between her glamorous glutes and the mat!
“You thought Da Man could keep me away!” Bates growls as she grinds her dominant derriere on Cassava’s face as she screams out at the fans, “I BUILT THIS COMPANY!”
Treating the nearly unconscious rookie to a few more bumps of her undercarriage, Bates unclasps the belt from Onika’s waist and tosses it aside. Then as she dismounts, Lakeisha holds up her hand to show it to the crowd, then swings her arm down an gives a parting SLAP to the place where Onika’s legs meet. Cassave gives a shudder then drifts off with the taste of Bate’s nether regions on her lips.
Getting to her feet Lakeisha tears Cassava’s new, and formerly favorite, dress off her body, putting several long tears in the material before throwing it through the ropes out onto the arena floor, leaving Onika naked except for her custom-made Kylie Corps gold and black panties and the one shoe she hadn't lost when Lakeisha hit her finisher!
“You really thought you could make a booty belt and not immediately present it to the woman with the greatest ass in wrestling...no, scratch that... in the WORLD!?” Lakeisha arrogantly askes the sleeping rookie.
Lakeisha wedges a boot under Cassava's ribs, rolling her unresisting body over onto her stomach, her exposed breasts jiggling and rolling before settling on either side of her chest. Eagle-eyed fans noticed Bates' expression when she saw Cassava’s ass for the first time...her ever-present smirk faltering for just a moment before it was replaced by a mask of cool confidence. Bates picks up the discarded title belt and holds it overhead as she poses with her boot pressing down flattening Onika’s bare, upturned, booty while Lakeisha stares down at what, in her mind, are Onika's clearly inferior buns.
This is the money shot for the Gladiatrix photographers...the one moment both women will remember long after their careers come to an end. It's a seminal moment; the one defining act that puts all events that follow into context.
“I can take this belt from you any time I want, Oreo..." Lakeisha sneers dismissively, as if speaking to the unconscious Cassava, but in reality, her words are for the TV cameras and the crowd. Onika will only hear the words much later. "... but I want to beat you; take it from you and them make you strap it around my waist yourself.”
Lakeisha drops the belt on Cassava’s butt with a soft splat, then turns around and as she heads out of the ring she makes sure she steps on the rookie’s back as she heads to the steps where she flings a final insult over her shoulder, “Fake ass Nebraska.”
Bates’ walk up the ramp to the dressing rooms is serenaded by the loud and mixed reaction of the spectators. Most booed with all their heart, yet a good portion of the crowd chanted, “WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK!”
At the top of the ramp, Lakeisha turns to face the crowd. “It’s time FAWN remembers who the top draws really are!” Bates says before dramatically pulling the curtain aside then disappearing behind it, letting the curtain drop as she vanishes from sight.