Trixie Decker Vs. Sunni Masters

“Laaaaaaadies and gentlemen,” the announcer begins, “our next match is a standard contest. First, hailing from Flint, Michigan and standing at five feet, three inches and one hundred thirteen pounds... TRIXIE “JINX” DECKER!”

TRIXIE “JINX” DECKER





It's been a long time since Trixie walked through the arena's curtained entrance and gazed upon the sea of FAWNatics. She'd been on the road, doing away shows and giving Kelli Love training she'd missed. It was nice to travel again but it felt good to be back.

The fans react with the usual mixed reaction. Some love the smaller brunette. Others have never forgiven her for “picking” on the likes of Katsumi Akiyama and Tulip Morrison and they make sure she knows it.

Trixie blows kisses to booing fans as she passes. “Love me, hate me – you're still giving me attention.” She strides to the ring and rolls under the ropes. She promptly races to her corner and raises her arms. Some cheer. Some heckle. It feels good to be back and part of something bigger. She hops down to the mat and lets the referee do his usual pre-match check.

"And her opponent," the announcer continues, "hailing from San Francisco, California, and standing at five feet, four inches at a weight of 120 pounds, INTRODUCING for her FAWN debut match... SUNNI MASTERS!!!"

SUNNI MASTERS:



And with that the lights drop to an inky blackness as her entrance music begins to pulse over the sound system.



A Spotlight falls on the entrance ramp curtain where the Asian American girl stands back to the ring. After a moment the rookie shows off her agility, performing an almost perfect series of backflips and handsprings, bounding down the ramp to the ring with grace and poise before settling at ringside with the traditional gymnast's dismount pose. With a pearly white smile and a slight pause to take a breath she slips through the ropes and enthusiastically slides under the ropes. The crowd, not sure what to make of her claps politely for the floor show demonstration, but aren't quite taking her seriously as a wrestler yet. Masters takes her corner and begins stretching in her tight, sparkling outfit that would probably look more at home on a figure skater than a wrestler.

Trixie sizes the new woman up. She's technically bigger than Decker, but she just seems little. Tiny, even. Maybe it's the air of innocence, the baby face. As the referee checks Sunni out, Trixie leaves her corner and approaches the rookie. As soon as the referee clears from her way, Trixie juts out an open hand for a shake.

“Hey, Sunni,” Trixie says. “Welcome to FAWN. I hope we have a great match today.”
Most FAWNatics seem pleased by this. Those who aren't are obviously annoyed because Trixie's history has shown she's not one of quick, dirty tactics – at least, she's not an instigator of them.

"Awww..." a slightly squeaky voice greets Trixie for the gesture. "Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me! Really. Thanks. I hear this company can be a little rough on newcomers. I'm glad I get a chance to meet one of the nice girls right away." She then, without hesitation reaches out her own hand and firmly shakes Trixie's, a slight shiver running through Masters body betrays her hidden nervousness in the ring.

Trixie's heart sinks a bit. Oh, no, she's a REAL rookie. It's not that Trixie thinks the match will be a cake walk. Far from it. Rookies are bundles of nerves. Nerves lead to accidents and injuries. And, despite what Trixie would ever admit, she remembers her early jitters – and that was in a match with just thirty people watching.

“Look, you'll be great,” Trixie mutters. “Just remember, you wouldn't be here if FAWN thought otherwise. Fight as hard as you can. I will, too. We've got to put on a great show. And we will.” Trixie gives a wink and pats Sunni on the shoulder. You'll be great.”

Trixie plods back to her corner, passing the ref.

“Getting soft, Decker!” the ref laughs.

“Choke on my vulvae,” Trixie replies.

Both women do stretches until the bell rings. The fighters advance to the middle of the mat and circle. Trixie sizes up Sunni's nervousness. If she were a bad person, she'd take advantage of this. In her mind, she plots out several ways she could wreck this young woman with just the right phrases. Part of her wonders if it would be a mercy. There's crueler women in FAWN who'd not spare her.

Finally, Trixie lunges, locking up with a surprised Sunni at the shoulders, and beings to push her back towards the ropes.

Sunni tenses up when Trixie makes her move, her heels digging into the mat, knees locking to try and stop Decker's advance and to everyone's surprise those brakes hold, leaving the two girl's in center ring, hands locked on each others' shoulders, neither giving an inch as they try to shove back and forth, trying with little luck to gain momentum.

Trixie grunts as she realizes the larger rookie is going nowhere. She looks Sunni in the eyes, smiles, and quickly moves her right arm from the newbie's shoulder, wrapping it under Sunni's armpit, and pivots to hiptoss Sunni. A surprised Masters spills to the mat, rolling over into a sitting position.

Perhaps it's the newness of everything, but Sunni sits, blinking at the fans, while Trixie bounds herself off the ropes behind Masters. She races across the ring and aims a missile dropkick square at Sunni's back.

"AGH!" Sunni shouts out in pain as Decker's boots slam flush into the the small of her back, folding the Asian American's body in half for a moment. Then with a groan Masters sits up again, her hand instinctively reaching for help in getting up. The only stable thing within reach at center ring happens to be Trixie standing beside her, so Sunni's hand grabs at Decker's waist finding only the bottom of Trixie's outfit as a grip. She pulls at the fabric for help up, almost pulling the Michigan native's bottoms down as she tries to get to her knees. The only thing keeping the FAWN crowd from getting more of a peepshow than a wrestling match this early is Trixie herself holding her outfit up.

Seeing Sunni desperate trying to pull herself up, and realizing she's basically helping the rookie but holding onto her bottoms, Trixie sighs and legs go. Her bottoms, and Sunni, promptly fall. A sea of cellphone camera flashes erupt. Trixie would be bothered but, frankly, it's no worse than what's happened in a few previous matches.

Sunni bounces on her butt and, with an “oof,” releases Trixie's bikini bottom. Trixie pulls her bottoms back up and walks around Masters. “Usually,” she says through forced humor, “the stripping comes after the match.” Decker pulls the unstable Sunni to her feet, wraps an arm around the rookie's head, and sends Sunni flying right back to the mat with a snapmare.

Sunni seems slightly dazed as Trixie drops to the mat behind her. Decker wraps her legs around Sunni's waist, locking them at the ankles, and begins a body scissor. “Get that personal again,” Trixie whispers into Sunni's ear, “and I'm gonna demand you buy me dinner. I'm a lady, after all.”

Masters gasps as her arms once again act on instinct, prying at Decker's thighs and knees in vain, the West Coast girl's own legs kicking the mat in frustration at her continued predicament. All she can do is plead with Trixie, "Stop." she squeaks, almost like a bath toy, "I can't breathe!"

The referee checks the hold and shakes his head. “She's not choking you. Do you submit?”

Sunni bites her lower lip and ponders how embarrassing it would be to lose her first match so quickly. “N-no... but I can't--”

Trixie flattens her palms against the mat and leans back, tightening the scissorhold. Sunni lets out a wounded howl. Masters slaps uselessly at Trixie's legs. “I thought you were nice,” she whimpers.

In one of the few times in her career, Trixie is unsure what to say. But she now realizes just how in over her head Sunni is. “Oh, God,” Decker moans. Instead of releasing the hold, though, Trixie pulls her hands up from the mat and slaps a full nelson onto Sunni. As she does, she speaks into Sunni's ear.

“This is a fight,” Trixie warns. “Compared to many of the women here, I am nice. A lot of them would have gone ballistic at the shorts grab. A lot of them won't care that you're new – in fact, they'll seize on it.” Trixie presses the full nelson, folding Sunni's neck down more. “You have to fight back,” Trixie says. “You have to show the crowd – and yourself – you're not going to give up.”

With that Trixie releases the nelson and scissors together, shoving Sunni to the mat before getting to her feet. As Masters shuffles on the mat, slowly getting to her knees Decker beckons the new girl, "Now stop pretending to fight me and fight me!"

Sunni grits her teeth before lunging at Trixie. All at once the San Francisco native is grateful and embarrassed for what Decker is doing for her. She dives at Trixie, who ducks under an obvious clothesline, but Masters bounds off the ropes like she was a rock in a slingshot and launches herself into a missile dropkick that catapults her back toward Decker.

Trixie takes the full impact of the dropkick and soars forward, rolling across the canvas. She pops up just as Sunni does, rubbing her back but smiling. “There you are, Miss Masters! Kind of you to join us.” Again, she offers a wink. “You've got some strong drumsticks on ya.”

Decker rushes to lock up with Sunni but the rookie, seeming to find her footing, robs Trixie of hers to with a drop toe hold, sending Trixie face-first to the mat.

DROP TOE HOLD


Wanting to keep up her momentum and see if she can gain some followers, Sunni bounds to her feet and tries to keep Trixie reeling, throwing a high kick up, showing off her past experience as a cheerleader as her leg goes fully vertical before dropping her body down atop Decker, her thigh aimed to come down across the back of Trixie's neck in a modified guillotine leg drop.

Sunni's leg slams across Trixie's throat and the goth shakes with the impact. Masters quickly grabs Trixie's legs and rolls her up for a pin.

ON--

The referee's hand doesn't even get all the way to the canvas before Trixie bucks Sunni off, shaking her cobwebs aside. Sunni hadn't expected Trixie to get out and almost seems unsure what to do as she watches Decker roll over to her hands and feet and start to push up.

Sunni suddenly checks back in and realizes she needs to take care of business. She hops up and rushes towards Trixie, slapping a headlock on Decker. Trixie, however, grabs Sunni's lower half and lifts her. The cheerleader flails with shock, her hold loosening. That's when Decker drops Sunni's tailbone into a waiting knee.

Sunni moans in pain from the impact. The Asian American manages to remain on her feet for a moment, squatting in front of Trixie with both hands rubbing her sore tailbone, but after a second Masters loses her balance and falling to the mat, right onto her sore posterior, more pained groans following as she rolls on the mat in agony, eventually settling in a most unflattering position; on her knees, her head bent down to meet the mat, her butt in the air as her hands massage the sore area.

Trixie looks at the round target before her and there's a temptation so send a kick right into Sunni's ass or, worse yet, right between her legs. But Sunni, for her inexperience, seems like a sweetheart. Instead, Decker walks to the front of Sunni and pulls her up to a crouch. Wrapping her arms around Masters's waist, she sends the rookie flying over backwards in a gutwrench suplex.

GUTWRENCH SUPLEX:


Sunni rolls onto her back and Trixie drops across her for a grapevine pin, stuffing Sunni's face into her cleavage.

Sunni struggles for a moment but her head lifts, her nose and mouth finding a gap in the smother enough to get a few gulps of air in. And just as the ref slides in for the count she uses her size advantage to throw her shoulder up authoritatively, not even letting the official slap the mat for a 1 count.

Instead, Masters rolls with Trixie on the mat for a moment, the Michigan girl losing the grapevine hold after a while and the two trade places, Sunni now on top of Decker. Not comfortable with on the mat maneuvers, Sunni tries to break away, throwing a few decent
hooks into Trixie's ribs before scrambling to her feet and distancing
herself from the more experienced wrestler.

'Masters!” the referee booms. “No closed fists!”

Sunni looks down at her clenched fists and back up at Trixie, who is rubbing her sides. On Decker's face she can see rage flashing. But the Jinx blinks, takes a breath, and calms down.

“I didn't--” Sunni starts.

“I've done it before,” Trixie cuts off, beginning to circle her. “It happens. Sometimes it's all you can do.” In the back of Trixie's brain, a voice pipes up. When did you get so damned understanding?

The two women circle eath other, finally locking up once more. Trixie doesn't try to make Sunni budge this time. Instead, she wrests control of the cheerleader's right arm and twists it behind her back. Sunni gapes as Decker slips behind her. The goth brings her knee up into the back of Sunni's, causing the Californian to stumble to a crouch. As Masters takes a knee, Trixie puts all her weight behind bending the captured arm upwards.

Finally showing some ring-sense, Sunni throws her free arm back, elbowing Trixie just below the ribs. As the Michigan girl loosens her hold on the bent arm, Masters twists and twirls herself, untangling the restricted arm until the two women come face to face. Then, Sunni throws a boot up into Decker's stomach, bending the more experienced girl at the waist. As Trixie sinks to her knees Masters backs away a step or two and rushes her opponent, wrapping her legs around Decker's face to deliver a mini Hurricanrana.

HURRICANRANA:


Trixie flops to the mat, shuddering from the slam. She blinks up at the lights, then sees the outline of Sunni coming down at her, elbow outstretched and aimed between her eyes.

Decker rolls out and the rookie slams her elbow smash into plywood and canvas, promptly shrieking and grabbing the joint. Both women stumble to their feet, Sunni retreating to the closest corner.

Trixie closes in on Sunni, who immediately panics. The cheerleader stands on pointe like a ballerina and sends a high kick at Trixie's face but Decker catches the foot and thrusts it away. But Sunni just spins 360 like a top and delivers the heel of her boot to the base of Trixie's skull. Decker stumbles forward, past a confused and startled Sunni, and goes face-first between the top and middle turnbuckle, her forehead eating ringpost.

Decker, stunned, goes limp. Sunni, confused, stares as her opponents body slumps to the mat. Nervously, Sunni rolls Trixie over and folds her up for a pin, her face plastered with a look of, “Am I doing this right?”

Sunni shakes nervously as she holds the limp leg of Decker folded against the goth girl's chest, the ref slapping the mat steadily with the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

The bell sounds and Masters' heart is in her throat as the ref lifts her hand in victory. But Sunni's spirits sink again when she's greeted by the FAWNatics with boos and jeers. Confused for a minute by the reaction, she tears up at her seeming rejection. But then the jeering crowd lets out a very telling chant, "YOU FUCKED UP! YOU FUCKED UP!" after another second of confusion Sunni realizes the bile from the audience isn't directed solely at her, but more at the odd way in which Decker almost defeated herself tonight with a clumsy header into the post.

Masters gets a little angry as her music blares over the speakers and her victory is announced. As soon as the ref releases her hand, she jumps up into a mid-air cheerleader-style split, her right thigh coming down onto Trixie's throat with the second guillotine legdrop of the night. But this time Sunni doesn't bounce up to her feet, this time she stays on the mat, pinning Decker to the mat with leg choking her opponent while she's down. "You! Your f--k up took away my win! The highlight of the match is gonna be you slamming face first into that post when it should have been my pinning you for the Three count! You made both of us look stupid!" she squeaks as she leans hard onto Trixie's throat.

The legdrop jolts Trixie back to life, her eyes blinking. She sputters and coughs. Sunni continues to lean her weight on, but the referee pipes up.

“That's enough, Sunni,” the zebra warns. “Don't make me reverse the win!”

Sunni swells with rage and horror. “You can't do that! This is all her fault! I shouldn't be punished because she's awful! I'm the good girl here! She's--”

“ONE!” the referee yells.

“I didn't--”

“TWO!” he continues.

Sunni's heart seizes. An authority figure is yelling at her. This never happens, she tells herself. She wants to protest but suddenly she finds herself on her back. Sunni blinks and looks over at a standing Trixie, having slid from her her captivity while she was distracted. That same Trixie now holds that same leg, pulling it up and pushing Sunni on her back.

Trixie eyes the leg and the mix of panic and confusion on Sunni's face. Sunni, however, sees a rage in Trixie's eyes that hadn't been there before. A billowing, burning contempt barely held back. Trixie looks at the leg, and other soft targets, and for a fleeting moment contemplates all the “congratulations” she could rain down on the victor.

Trixie lets go of Sunni's leg. You're not that kind of person, Trixie swears to herself. She steps back and addresses Masters. “I'm not pissed you won. That's how it goes. And I get it's not the kind of win you wanted. I'm pissed that I misread you. I thought you were a shy rookie who might be in over her head, but someone who could be an awesome wrestler. But now I know you're the sort of person who kicks someone when they're down. The sort of person who goes for a cheap shot on someone who's tried to give them a fair fight. That's was my mistake.”

Decker backs away, never taking her eyes off Sunni. “I won't make that mistake twice,” she warns as she slides through the ropes.

Sunni goes red while she gets to her feet. The rage visibly building in her face. Not only was she all but humiliated tonight, in more than one way, but she was also getting told off by the ref and her opponent, a girl she thought had her back earlier tonight. Seeing red, Masters waits for a moment. Then as Trixie slips under the top rope, the Asian American sprints toward Decker, dropping into a baseball slide under the bottom rope, extending her arms out to the side to sweep the goth girl's legs out from under her, sending Trixie falling face-first into the ring apron.

Trixie tumbles, slamming against the arena floor. Sunni, however, looks like she's just begun to vent her rage when the ref runs over.

“I warned you!” he snaps.

Sunni thrusts her hands up. “Nononononono, don't reverse it!” she begs. “It's... I lost my temper but I didn't-- please!”

The referee falters, staring at Sunni intently to see if she goes further. Masters starts to speak up but the booing intensifies. She looks at the fans, as if to agree with them about being disappointed in Trixie, but a fan front and center sounds over the rest.

“YOU SUCK, SUNNI!” he booms.

Sunni stammers. “What?! No, I--”

“Way to go cheap!” another heckles, seeming to enjoy the embarrassment on Sunni's face.

The rookie realizes the fans have turned their attention. No longer are they heckling Trixie for her clumsy ending. They see her as... a villain? Underhanded? Angry tears begin to well up Sunni's eyes.

She looks at Trixie, who's now on her feet. Trixie sees the tears starting to stream down Sunni's face. She sees Sunni realize the tears are there. And, since no one's pointing and laughing yet, Trixie realizes no one ELSE sees them. So, she reacts the only way she can.

“You f---ing c—t!” Trixie bellows and she barrels into Sunni, latching onto the Californian in a catfight-tastic, shoulder-to-shoulder hair grab, twisting her side to side. “I'll f---ing kill you!” Wide-eyes, Sunni can only accept it as it happens.

But once locked together, Trixie whispers into Sunni's ear, “Hold on to me and struggle – do NOT take any cheap shots or make this into a real brawl – and we are getting out of here together!” With that, Trixie begins “fighting” Sunni up the ramp, shaking her side to side, and shielding her tears from fans and camera.

Sunni follows Trixie's lead, selling the struggle by throwing up the occasional knee and forearm that slams into Decker's body, but still allows the goth to drag her past the curtain and away from the crowd.

The attitude of the fans changes. Now, both women are cheered as the claw, hit, and scratch up the ramp and back through the entrance. Glancing around, Trixie sees no cameras immediately – just production assistants and techs. She headlocks Sunni immediately, her hand moving across the cheerleader's eyes in an eye rake motion, as she barks at them. “This is between me and the bytch!” Her voice is venom, something never heard from Trixie before, and all the Pas and crew vanish.

Trixie releases the hold and lets Sunni stand up. “Like how I made it look like I was gouging your eyes when I was wiping them?” Trixie wipes the tears from her hand onto her bra top. “Yeah, high school theater and improv. Still got it.” It's only a moment of humor, then Trixie returns to expectation of something... attack, verbal abuse. She stares at Sunni.

Sunni shoves at Trixie's chest. "Shut up! What the hell was that?! I mean, I get that you're trying to be nice, but why?" she asks, grateful and confused in the same instant.

“That, my dear, was me giving you a goddamn out,” Trixie hisses. “You can't be seen crying. I don't give a shit if you are cunt-punted from the top of a cage into a pile of broken glass in a match on the evening you learn your cat died, you CAN'T cry!” The Jinx folds her arms and gives an exasperated sigh. “The fans will never respect you. FAWN's heads will see you as a problem to be dropped. Every psycho in this fed – hell, this field, and there are a LOT of them – will come looking at for you like a fat kid smelling his way to the Twinkie factory.

“And I may not like you that much, but you're just starting out.” The Jinx shook her head. “You don't need that hanging around your neck. 'Sides, listen. They're not booing now.” From the entrance, only wild, frenzied cheers and catcalls could be heard. “They just saw two hot women go apeshit on each other and vanish. They will forever remember your first match ending in a sexy, furious struggle that vanished up the ramp and straight into their imagination.”

Sunni's expression changes like a switch was flipped, a big grin on her face. "You're right, they loved it!" she jumps up and down in excitement, even hugging Decker close. After a second she stops and shoots Trixie a grin, "Shouldn't we give them a proper ending though?" she says with a devilish look in her eye. We left them with a cliffhanger, they want to know what happened, shouldn't we give them that?" her voice cracking with giddiness instead of nervousness now.

Trixie ponders for a second. “You went to college? You were in a sorority, right?”

Sunni tilts her head. “Uh, I don't see what that--”

Trixie unhooks her bra and shoves it into one of Sunni's hands. She takes Master's other hand, holds in in a claw and drags the Californian's nails along her breasts until they leave red streaks. She looks at Sunni. “This is going to hurt. Sorry.” Trixie rakes her claws across Sunni's bared midriff and, before the rookie can reply, snags a handful of Masters's hair and storms back out on the ramp.

Somehow, the fans intensify at seeing the scene of a topless Trixie hauling Sunni around by her hair. Decker hurls Sunni to the ramp, letting her slamp down on her hands and knees, before hopping on the cheerleader's back and flattening her out.

Trixie pulls Sunni back by her hair so all the fans can see her face, cupping her cheeks with one hand. “WELCOME TO FAWN, BYTCH!” Trixie screams before planting a long, open-mouthed kiss on a surprised Sunni. She pulls away, sneers, and slams Sunni down on her forearms. Standing, Trixie delivers a swat across Sunni's ass – her hand cupped so it sounds louder than the hit is.

People who, minutes earlier, were disgusted with Sunni, now rally behind her and jeer Trixie. The Jinx yanks her top from Sunni's hand, holds up her own middle fingers, and uses them to blow kisses before vanishing through the curtained entrance.

Sunni's eyes are wide for a second, but then she remembers she's trying to put on a show for the fans. Her eyes narrow and she bounds to her feet, rushing after Trixie just as she gets to the curtain again. The California girl revels in the crowd openly cheering her pursuit as she drags Decker out from the curtain one last time. "Lets give them a happy ending." she whispers to her new found friend as she grabs a handful of the goth girl's hair and forces her back to the ramp, throwing up a boot that plants firmly, but not fully into Trixie's stomach, bending the Michigan native at the waist.

Then, Masters grabs hold of Trixie's head with some effort, bends her the other way, so the black haired beauty is bent back, eyes looking up to the arena lights, the cheerleader then straddles Decker's neck in a standing neck scissors that she makes look good for the fans but leaves loose enough so Trixie can stay aware enough to keep up with my moves. "Keep up with me." she whispers to the goth girl, before hopping up, and sitting out, forcing Decker down to the hard ramp with a modified guillotine that looks devastating to the FAWNatics.

There is a loud thump as the move is executed – fans closest cringe at the impact. Most, however, cheer as Sunni raises her arms triumphantly as she stands and plants a boot on her opponent. After drinking in the adoration, Masters looks down at Trixie to see what show of struggle she's offering. To her disappointment, Decker is just laying there like she's asleep or... or....

Sunni gulps as she realizes her finishing move may have been a bit too on point. This opens an interesting new problem – Sunni wants to check on Trixie and make sure she's okay, but it's hard to do “in character.” She slowly, and as carefully as possible, rolls Trixie's head side to side with her foot while blowing kisses to the crowd. No blood, so that's a good sign. Nervously, she taps Trixie on the cheek.

The goth slowly stirs, blinks, and looks up at Sunni. A part of her says to twist Sunni's foot all the way around and give her a taste of the ramp – it might even be doing Sunni a favor. She seems naïve and innocent, a target in the making for some of FAWN's crueler fighters. Still, she's shining – and she did win. Trixie has had worst post-match humiliations.

“What do I do now?” Sunni asks Trixie through teeth clenched in a smile.

“Take your bow, walk back stage,” Decker explains as quietly as she can. “Ring attendants will check on me and 'help' me backstage as soon as you clear out. But most importantly, enjoy your first win a little.”

Sunni does just that, keeping a foot planted on Trixie's chest, she bows theatrically to the crowd, throwing her arms up in a pose and pauses a few seconds, letting the cameras flash. Then, she steps away, blowing kisses to the audience as she backs toward the curtain, bouncing peppily on the balls of her feet, a smile beaming from her face as she gives one final wave to her newly established fans