Post by bigfan on Apr 3, 2018 19:31:43 GMT
The ring announcer directed everyone’s attention to the FAWNtron as the gigantic plasma screen cut to a live feed of an extremely plush modern-looking penthouse, done out with a few pieces of minimal wooden furniture and a large luxurious cotton-sheeted bed. Craig Long stepped into the frame, his referee’s stripes looking somewhat out of place in this environment.
Speakers hidden in the apartment passed on the announcement from back in the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen, our next match will follow standard Apartment House rules and will be to one submission or knockout. Introducing first, from Gainsville, Florida…the Gold Standard…Mickey Gold!”
MICKEY GOLD
The former Jungle champion glided into shot from the left and flashed a 24 karat smile at the camera. Her lithe body was clad in nothing but a gorgeous set of champagne-coloured lingerie, a bustier giving a little extra lift to her already perky cleavage while the high-cut panties both hugged close to the curve of her derrière and exposed plenty of sunkissed and perfectly toned flank. The Floridian had tied her chestnut locks back into a sleek ponytail held with a champagne-coloured band, and in classic style her feet were bare on that plush carpet.
The audience sheers were amplified considerably as they took in just how gorgeous their favourite was looking tonight. The announcer had to let the chatter die down a little before he pressed on. “And her opponent, hailing from Dubai, the United Arab Emirates…the Ultimate Diva and…uh…ahem…the Best Thing that Ever Happened to FAWN…Zoe Scott!”
FAWN officials had explained at great lengths to Zoe that it was not possible for her to have her entrance music and lighting in the intimate penthouse setting. But Zoe Scott was a woman of exacting standards and had simply bought a large and heavily branded Beats Audio speaker set with her. She had made one concession to the context though; replacing her usual Kanye West banger with a much more serene Childish Gambino remix. This boomed out in the penthouse as Scott made her entrance.
Childish Gambino – Breakwww.youtube.com/watch?v=1-buh95_zRU
There was no denying that the Dubai girl looked stunning in this setting, her legendarily high maintenance apparently paying off. Zoe had opted for snow white lingerie which looked almost angelic against her tanned skin. A plunging bustier adding to her already buxom cleavage, while the lacy bottoms snugged close to the swell of her derriere. Unlike her opponent, Scott had opted to cover her legs in sheer white stockings linked by suspenders to her panties. Her hair had been left free to flow over her shoulders.
ZOE SCOTT
Attired as they were, neither lady required more than a cursory once-over from Craig Long, and he showed immense professionalism by turning away from the pair of lingerie-clad lovelies to shoo Scott’s sound engineer and his audio equipment away before the match start. Once the battlefield had been suitably cleared he gave a little signal, receiving the sound of a bell chiming through the apartment in response.
Both ladies seemed keen to appear nonchalant, Gold making a show of rolling her eyes and tutting at her opponent’s ostentatious display while Scott was concerned with smoothing away an invisible wrinkle in that straining bustier. After a few seconds the Diva had arranged her gurls to her satisfaction and started circling to the left, Mickey mirroring her movements until the two ladies were juuuust outside arms reach. stop with her hands on those champagne-clad hips.
“Last time I had to listen to that screechy voice of yours you were saying something about a no-holds-barred match in a ring.” Gold’s nose scrunched in mock confusion as she continued. “Not saying it won’t be fun to kick your ass in luxury, but I was really looking forward to winning in front of an audience again. How come you chickened out?”
Maintaining a business-like façade, Scott haughtily said “I chose to bring you here because this is where a real woman comes to solve her problems. But I know this apartment rents higher per week than you earn in a year, so I’m going to give you an up close and personal tour of every inch before I kick you out.”
Mickey looked thoughtful for a minute, then nodded as if in understanding. “I guess you’re right, this is a little out of my comfort zone. But it’s definitely well within yours, I hear you spend a lot of time on your back in a penthouse…”
Shock and outrage competed on the Diva’s face at the implication. “I’m sure you spend a lot of time on your knees in an alleyway behind a strip club, skank. Do not dare use that tone with mUNNGH!” Whatever words Scott had been about to say were literally slapped out of her mouth, Gold taking advantage of the moment’s distraction to step in and tag a big slap across Dubai jaw.
Zoe rocked back a little, head spun by the blow, and took a second to check her lip for blood. “You don’t tell me what to do rich girl” Gold told her from a few feet away. For a second the two women just glared at each other, hostilities immediately renewed after their previous match, but then Scott threw herself forwards. Mickey was driven several steps backwards, coming to a halt with the Oil Baroness’ body pressed into her own.
Unwilling to forgive any sleight, Zoe swung a hand up for a slap of her own. Her palm snapped into Gold’s jaw and turned her pretty face for an instant. Scott took advantage by reaching behind her and yanking on a big handful of chestnut ponytail, forcing her head to tilt up and backwards while her other hand went to the Floridian’s champagne-clad rack.
Grabbing a handful, Zoe squeezed down, black-lacquered nails digging into sensitive flesh. Gold immediately switched both hands to grip on that invading wrist, the Diva scowling at her and continuing her claw. “I’ll tell you whatever I want, has-been,” she hissed. “I’m the star in this room. It was my choice to bring you here and I’m the one in control.” To demonstrate this she pressed forwards again, using the claw grip and her hair hold to push Mickey the remaining distance until her back was pressed into the wall.
Although Mickey Gold was a relative veteran, her time spent in the Jungle hadn’t ever afforded her the opportunity to fight in a penthouse. Yes, she had been through wars with elite-level names like Treymane, Brewster and Mendoza, but all of those had been in a wrestling ring, and nothing could quite prepare a fighter for the apartment experience. And so when Mickey felt the hard press of a wall at her back instead of the far more familiar flexibility of the ropes, it took her a second to react.
On the other hand Zoe had spent a good part of her early adulthood stalking the penthouses of Dubai, and she knew just what to do when she had a bytch backed into the wall. One stocking-clad knee pistoled up and buried into Gold’s breadbox, the Floridian flexing forwards slightly then coming to a stop with a follicle-induced groan because Scott still had a grasp of her ponytail.
Mickey’s hands dropped to defend against another kneestrike so the Diva just switched tactics, bending forwards and driving forwards with her shoulder to crush Mickey’s ribs against the unforgiving wall once, twice, and three times in quick succession. A shove from Gold put a stop to the fourth attempt, Scott changing her point of attack again and driving a pair of short hooked punches into Floridian stomach.
A ‘whoulph’ noise accompanied the meaty thump of her fist, but Craig Long stepped forwards for the first time in the match. “Watch the closed fists Zoe, just because we’re on carpet doesn’t mean you…” Scott whirled around and jabbed a finger in his face. “Do not tell me what to do, Greg!” she snarled, “Just stay out of my way until she’s ready to begGRRUNH!”
Admittedly the last few minutes had been something of an apartment fighting lesson for Mickey, still a little out of sorts from that mugging against the wall. But she was far too high-class of a fighter to miss the opportunity presented by Scott’s turned back. Pressing away from the wallpaper, Gold leaped off one foot to clunk a forearm into the back of the oblivious heiress’ head and sent her stumbling forwards.
Finally given some space for the first time in a few minutes, the Gold standard made the most by jogging forwards and throwing herself into another leap. At the apex she looped an arm around Scott’s neck and raised her legs out in front, dropping to a slightly awkward landing on her hip. The splashdown was far worse for the other brunette though, Zoe’s face driven into the carpet so hard that her head bounced.
A yowl escaped Scott’s lips and both hands flew to her nose, checking for damage. Unfortunately for her it didn’t look like Mickey was going to give her that luxury, the Floridian swooping in to hook hold of one of her stockinged feet and then leaning forwards to grab the corresponding wrist. Zoe just about had time to snarl “Don’t you daaaaAARRRGH” as Gold put one foot on the base of her spine and pulled back on her twin grips.
Reclining back into the plush carpet, Mickey gave herself a second to admire her own handiwork. The Oil Baroness was spread out in front of her, body bent into a torturous ark with her limbs splayed backwards. Even more pleasing were the breathy grunts and groans emerging form the Emirati’s throat as her body was wracked by the ingeniously adapted Bow and Arrow hold. But she miraculously recovered her voce when Craig Long leaned down to as “What do you say Zoe, need me to call it?”
“nnNNOOOO GET AWAY FROM ME IDIOT!” Scott’s screech brought a cruel smile to the lips of the Gold Standard. “What’s the matter rich girl?” she purred, “I thought you were meant to be at home in a penthouse but it turns out you’re just as screechy here as you are anywhere elsOWW STOP IT!”
Scott had worked her free hand over her body so that she could reach around and dig her nails into the Floridian toes pressed to her back. Mickey responded by jerking back even further, bending the wailing brunette even further. This was enough to relieve the pressure for a second but Zoe was surprisingly determined, jabbing nails into the pad of Mickey’s foot and then pinching down on the skin between her toes.
“Grrr…Get your vile hooves off me or I’ll rRRRRRrrr…rip your toes off,” the Diva demanded through heavy breaths. Miraculously it seemed like the demand might have worked, one arm being released. But that relief was extremely short lived when a whole new level of pain flooded through her scalp.
“Hey Craig, there’s nothing to stop me from ripping her hair out here, right?” Mickey’s playful tone carried a thick layer of underlying menace, and she didn’t wait for him to respond before yanking back even harder, this time tugging on Scott’s brunette tresses and bending her neck to a hellacious angle. The groaning from the Dubai girl increased considerably in pitch and frequency, that free hand abandoning her attempts at foot torture to fight the waves of agony in her scalp.
Caught between trying to remove the talons from her hair and wriggle her leg free of Gold’s grip. Zoe tried to do both and ended up doing neither, her body trapped and wilting in the Floridian’s grasp. When she gave up and beckoned to Craig Long, the referee thought his night might be finished in record time. But it turned out that the Jetsetter wasn’t interested in surrendering, instead reaching hat free hand out to grab his collar and give a big tug.
Caught off balance, the referee slipped forwards and tumbled over, ending up in a pile on top of both wrestlers. Gold was taken by surprise but showed a veteran instinct to hang on to her grips. But in the end it was Scott’s choice to wear stockings that saved her, the sheer material splitting and coming free form her foot. Zoe yanked her leg away as quickly as possible, reluctantly sacrificing a clump of hair to pull herself free before Mickey had a chance to disentangle herself form the surprised zebra.
As soon as Scott had wriggled herself free she was back on the warpath, scrambling to her feet with a wince and storming back over to the pile of limbs. “Get the hell out of my way!” she demanded of Long, giving a big shove to the embarrassed man and then driving her recently-bared right foot down in a nasty stomp that landed flush into Gold’s trunks. Taken by surprise, the Gold Standard let out a single sob of pain, both hands flying to the pain in her center.
“That’s what happens Idiot.” Scott’s voice was menacing but her attitude was businesslike, hair-hauling the other brunette up to her knees and then ramming her forwards so that her head collided with the nearby wooden bedpost. Mickey’s skull rebounded off the solid wood with a nasty ‘clunk’ noise and she would’ve collapsed onto her front again if Zoe hadn’t lifted back up and done the exact same thing again!
“C’mon Scott, I can’t let you ah dammit!” Craig’s reprimand died away when the Diva glared at him for a second and then delivered another clunking slam to Florida noggin. With the referee suitably chastised Scott shovelled her woozy opponent up into a face-down heap on the bed and clambered up alongside her. She shuffled around until those honey-tanned legs framed the back of Gold’s head, leaning forwards to grab the back of her champagne-covered briefs.
Mickey started wriggling immediately, sensing that she needed to avoid whatever was about to happen, but the Diva simply pulled her knees together so that her thick thighs formed a fleshy clamp around the other brunette’s face-like features. But worse was to come for the Gold Standard, Scott giving a big heave on captive briefs so that Gold's peachy posterior was pulled up in the air, the whisper-thin lace cutting in to a brilliantly brutal twist on a grounded wedgie!
Cries muffled by the meaty prison of Dubai thighs, Mickey put both feet to the floor and tried to push her way out of the evil predicament. This would’ve worked fine in a ring, but mired amongst silk sheets and down comforters there was no traction for her bare feet, the Gold Standard left to scrabble desperately just to alleviate some of the pressure on her tortured center. The situation was not helped at all by the sound of Scott’s voice filtering down from above.
“That’s what trash like you gets when you try to take on the best!” she crowed at the twitching Floridian. Any response from Gold was lost in those golden-tanned thighs, another concerted escape attempt thwarted when Scott pulled back even harder on the wedgie. Zoe looked extremely pleased at just how well she’d made a penthouse bed into her own personal torture chamber. “But I'm a businesswoman, even if you aren’t, So here’s your deal. Tap out right now on my ass, and I’ll let you go without ripping those cheap panties right through you.
Gold's hand did actually move towards Dubai derrière, but instead of signalling surrender the brunette's fingers dug into a claw, tearing at taut flesh hard enough to elicit a yelp from Scott. The response was to lean back and pull Mickey’s wracked body to almost vertical, her legs flailing uselessly as her weight pulled those treacherous togs even deeper! Zoe only had strength to maintain the position for a few seconds but it was enough to cause Gold’s wailing to go so loud that even the fleshy clamp around her face couldn’t dampen it.
“Haha! That’s right trailer trash! No escape!” Scott crowed. “You can beg me for mercy shortly and maybe I’ll reconsider. In the meantime...” The Ultimate Dive halved her grip on Gold’s panties and fingerwalked the free hand up over that expanse of taut derrière. From there she slipped a finger under the strained satin and...”GRAGHHHNOOOOGUB!”
The sensation of the hateful talons invading her core was enough to draw a hoarse bellow from Mickey. Scott only smiles and squeezed down, but it seemed the new intensity of pain had galvanised the Gold Standard, Mickey showing a whole heap of improvised athleticism by managing a sort of no-hands somersault towards her tormentor. The frantic innovation seemed to surprise both girls, the Floridian flipping forwards and landing with that abused derrière directly over Zoe's features!
Ideally this position would be perfect for Mickey to secure a potentially table-turning facesit, but the only thought on her mind was relieving the searing wedgie-induced pain in her nethers. As such she scrambled right off Scott’s spluttering g features and staggered over to the nearest wall, desperately rearranging her bottoms into a more comfortable position. Behind her Zoe spluttered in revulsion and fury, scrambling to her feet and charging headlong at the discombobulated Gold Standard.
The previous few minutes could be seen as a lesson for Mickey in apartment wrestling. But if that was the case she passed the next test with flying colours, instinctively swooping out of Scott’s path at the last instant so that the Heiress’s headlong charge ended in very unforgiving wall. Gold slipped behind the stunned woman and hooked a smooth Hammerlock, using it to bodily mash Scott’s prodigious chest into the wallpaper.
“You disgusting excuse for a fighter.” Gold’s voice was low and menacing, all trace of cheerfulness driven out by the vile treatment her togs had received. “All that money and swag, all the talk about class and being a real woman, and you fight like a two dollar whore. Well I guess we’ll see if you slap like one toOOH CHEAP BYTCH!”
Too outraged to respond with words and too trapped to do much else, Scott took the easiest way out. That was to raise one foot and stamp hard on Gold’s bare toes, then mule flick her leg upwards to clunk between her thighs. The double cheapshot was enough to get Mickey to release, her fury matched by the Diva as she whirled around.
Forming her hand into a knife, Scott jabbed the point into the hollow of the taller brunette’s throat. “If you’re going to use such foul language then I’m shutting you up!” Sure enough that dagger jabbed the Floridian’s vulnerable windpipe, eliciting a small gasp and a wretching noise from the bigger woman as her air was cut off. Zoe looked pleased enough with the result to try her trick again, but Gold cut her off by blocking the shot and then THWAPPING a stiff forearm into that prodigious Dubai décolletage, driving her back a step.
Slipping to the heiress’ six, Mickey reached out with one hand and hooked onto the only handhold on the expanse of Scott’s back, which just happened to be the strap of that already strained bra. Zoe obviously felt the tension as her opponent yanked back on her brassiere, both hands flying up to cup her gurls and hold them in place. But she could do nothing but stumble backwards as Gold yanked back on the straining strap and then THUNK!
A Golden forearm slammed into the back of the Diva’s head, sending her drunkenly forwards again. Mickey kept hold of that bra strap and readied for a second yank. “That was for the comment about strip clubs,” she growled, tugging the Dubai girl backwards again. Scott’s arms came up to protect her head, but the Gold Standard had a different target in mind, driving a vicious knee up to bury into the taut flesh of Zoe’s glutes.
“That was for the mugging on the bed.” Scott stumbled away again, moaning and clutching at her bruised bottom, but still the Gold Standard had more things to avenge. She gave one last pull on that bra strap, the garment making a small ripping noise but somehow managing to maintain most of it’s structural integrity as it’s wearer was dragged backwards once more.
Finally Mickey released her grip on the lacy garment, needing both hands for what was to come. With the Oil Baroness still defenceless she ducked under one Emirati arm and lifted the wailing rich girl up, holding her at the apex for a second then dropping to one knee when gravity pulled her burden back down. Scott’s wickets were split by an Inverted Atomic Drop right out of her own playbook, her white-clad undercarriage landing clean on that bony joint. Her mouth was formed into a silently appalled ‘O’ by the pain in her center, both hands flying between her legs.
“That one was for the wedgie, and this?” Mickey paused for a second to loop one bicep over Scott’s arm and neck while the corresponding leg threaded between the Diva’s. “Well this is just because you are such a bytch.” Standing up and dragging the other brunette with her, Gold cinched in her beautifully-applied Abdominal Stretch and leaned back, set on tearing the mouthy rich girl in two.
Still damaged from the assault on all areas of her undercarriage, Scott could do little but moan at this fresh torture. To make matters worse for her Craig Long had stepped in front, bending to ask “I can end this if you need Zoe. Do you want to sub...” “NO!” the Diva cut him off before he could even finish, although her denial sounded more like a plea. When her voice was a little more under control she said “No…Greg…I’m going to get out of this and tear those cheap tits of heeeARRRRGH GOD!”
The sudden increase in volume had occurred because Mickey had curled her free hand into a claw and used it to raaaaaaake her nails across the already hurting meat of Zoe’s stomach, spending a little extra time on the sensitive pit of her belly button. “Hey Craig,” She chirped brightly over the moans of the Oil Baroness, “I think she said something about tits, how about you ask her again once I do this…”
Given her relative lack of catfight experience Gold had quickly demonstrated an aptitude for the form, as evidenced by the expert way she squirmed one hand into the other brunette’s bra and dug down into that bountiful flesh. The decibel level of Scott’s roars increased significantly, but it seemed to have given the Gold Standard some further inspiration, an extremely malicious looking smile crossing her pretty face.
“I guess those tits do have advantages. There must be so much silicone in there that you can barely feel.” The sounds coming from Zoe’s mouth in response to the mailing suggested otherwise, but Gold carried on her thesis anyway: “There’s barely anything left of you that’s real. Horrible fake weave...”
Mickey demonstrated by moving her hand to give a big yank on Scott’s chestnut locks. “...plastic face...” Gold switched her grip to painfully pinch the Diva's nose. “...silicone ass...” This time the Gold Standard’s hand wandered down to curvy Dubai derrière, clawing into those sensitive cheeks to draw a fresh roar from Scott “...and the trashiest boob implants I’ve ever seen. I guess your surgeon must be richer than you.”
Taken aback by the viciousness shown by someone who usually fought so clean, Long held back until he was sure Gold had finished her tirade. He slipped in and fucked his head close to Zoe’s, wincing a little at the volume and pitch of the so-called Ultimate Diva’s cries. “I can end this Zoe!” he yelled over the hubbub. “What do you say?”
“Nnnn...nahNOOOO!” The words were barely distinguishable amidst her other cries, but they were there, Long nodding and backing off to save his eardrums. Mickey’s somewhat frustrated reaction was lost in the din but her words reached Scott’s ears. “Fine. Then I’m going to end this my way.”
Keen to act on her words, Gold broke half of the Abdominal stretch and braced her legs, reaching down and hauling the discombobulated Diva to her waist. Then she simply lifted up as far as she could and let go, Scott plummeting out of her clutches. The move could barely be classed as 'wrestling', but it proved to be very effective when Zoe dropped from several feet and landed square on her face and chest.
A quick glance was enough to assure Gold that the vile woman wasn’t going anywhere for the moment, so she backed off, grabbing a nearby coffee table and dragging it closer. Long stood by with a confused look on his face, but things became clearer when the Gold Standard perched on the table and waited for Scott to stir. As soon as the Oil Baroness had pushed herself up onto her elbows Mickey launched off, slamming down on the Dubai girl's beleaguered torso with a passable version of her own signature Gold Stamp move!
Exploding into a prone, boneless starfish, it looked like Scott’s night was almost over, her lights almost dimmed. But it seemed that Mickey had one more trick to play before she was ready to end things. To do this she dragged Zoe up to her jelly legs then hopped up to the bed.
“This should’ve finished things last time, you cheating brat!” Gold declared to the insensate Emirati. “I don’t care that this an apartment instead of a ring, I’m still going to beat you like I should have done months ago!” With that the brunette took a deep breath and launched into the air.
Spinning as she flew, it was clear that Mickey was trying for a diving version of her Gold Big finisher, the move that had earned most of her important wins in the ring. Her spin and reach to hook a facelock was textbook, but it seemed that the apartment setting wasn’t quite the right place for such technical wrestling. This was proved when Scott reached up and gave an extra shove to the flying Floridian, the extra momentum sending her sailing past her intended target! Instead she smashed down over the solid wooden coffee table, the back of her neck whiplashing brutally over the table edge.
Craig Longs hands flew to his head, concerned that one of his charges may just have had a serious injury. But Zoe Scott showed no such concern. Instead she stomped over to Gold's decimated body, reached down, and fired out a version of her own Showstopper palm strike directly into the other brunette’s face. Mickey’s head bounced hideously off the solid oak, earning a yell from Long.
“JESUS CHRIST ZOE! Get off her, she might be seriously...” The Diva swished over to him and stopped with her face only a few inches from his. “For every word you say between now and announcing my victory, I’ll do that to her again. So shut up and stay out of my way until I say otherwise.”
Dismissing him with a wave of the hand, Zoe turned back to her semi-conscious opponent and dragged her by the legs until she was in some space. Mickey barely moved, limp on her back with eyes closed and breathing shallow. The Oil Baroness had no problem reaching down to tear at her bra top, ripping until the Floridian’s modest chest was fully exposed. Then she sat beside her and wormed her legs around, tugging both Gold's arms behind her back and then trapping them between her own thighs.
Glancing down at her own shredded bra, Scott gave a brief tug so that her own overflowing gurls were also freed, then reached forwards to hook both hands behind Mickey’s head. A sudden yank back was enough to cinch in the finisher known as 'Spotlight' in a FAWN ring, bringing brutal pressure to bear on Gold's trapped neck and shoulders.
Searing pain through her upper body was enough to corral what remained of the Gold Standard's senses, those green eyes snapping open in horror as she realised her predicament. A loud yelp of protest came to her lips, but over the rush of blood in her ears she could still hear what the vengeful Dubai Diva said next.
“Look at me, trash.” Zoe’s eyes were locked on the Floridian’s, although Mickey’s lids were drooping significantly. I’d let you tap out right now, but all my fans are watching my victory and I don’t want them to have to see your horrible blotchy face.
Any potential response from the Gold Standard was rendered moot when Scott leaned forwards and buried her features in pillowy, golden-tanned flesh. Mickey had no defence as her world darkened, reduced to sucking short, nipping breaths of sweaty air as the prison of Dubai décolletage robbed her of sir and life. But it seemed that Scott still want quite satisfied.
After about twenty seconds, when she could feel that life was almost gone from the squirming brunette, Zoe shifted her shoulders slightly, grinding Gold’s nose against her sternum and allowing in just a modicum of sweat-soaked air. Another shift did the same, keeping the jugg-shocked Gold Standard trapped agonisingly on the very edge of consciousness as she made her last demand.
“Give up, trash.” Scott’s voice was juuuust loud enough to reach through the satiny prison surrounding Gold's ears. “Submit right now. Because I control you now, and if you don’t admit that I’m not letting you wake up until the hospital.
Abused, oxygen starved and potentially concussed as she was, Mickey Gold was still a high class fighter. And that was why her hand wavered for almost fifteen seconds before swatting lightly at the carpet. The submission brought a release in other ways, the Floridian’s body finally drifting into unconsciousness. Scott held on anyway though, giving those snoozing features an extra twenty seconds of jostling before dropping the girl like a bag of potatoes and clambering gingerly to her feet.
Long had already signalled the timekeeper back in the area, to a chorus of boos at the outcome. Now he stepped over towards Scott and reached out for...
“Get my robe and play my music.”
A confused look crossed the senior official's face. “You said I had to announce the...”
The look Scott gave him could have curdled milk. “Mr robe, and my music. Now.” For a long moment Craig considered telling her where to shove this demand, coming as it did on top of everything in the last half hour, hell the last 18 months she’d been in FAWN. But everyone knew Zoe Scott was 'friends' with the company brass, and besides he was too tired to argue.
It took a second to gather the robe and signal the sound man, Scott slipping the garment on and turning to face ‘her’ public. She placed one foot on Gold’s gulping tummy just as the sound kicked in, Craig Long silently raising her hand and then leaving her to preen in her spotlight.
Speakers hidden in the apartment passed on the announcement from back in the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen, our next match will follow standard Apartment House rules and will be to one submission or knockout. Introducing first, from Gainsville, Florida…the Gold Standard…Mickey Gold!”
MICKEY GOLD
The former Jungle champion glided into shot from the left and flashed a 24 karat smile at the camera. Her lithe body was clad in nothing but a gorgeous set of champagne-coloured lingerie, a bustier giving a little extra lift to her already perky cleavage while the high-cut panties both hugged close to the curve of her derrière and exposed plenty of sunkissed and perfectly toned flank. The Floridian had tied her chestnut locks back into a sleek ponytail held with a champagne-coloured band, and in classic style her feet were bare on that plush carpet.
The audience sheers were amplified considerably as they took in just how gorgeous their favourite was looking tonight. The announcer had to let the chatter die down a little before he pressed on. “And her opponent, hailing from Dubai, the United Arab Emirates…the Ultimate Diva and…uh…ahem…the Best Thing that Ever Happened to FAWN…Zoe Scott!”
FAWN officials had explained at great lengths to Zoe that it was not possible for her to have her entrance music and lighting in the intimate penthouse setting. But Zoe Scott was a woman of exacting standards and had simply bought a large and heavily branded Beats Audio speaker set with her. She had made one concession to the context though; replacing her usual Kanye West banger with a much more serene Childish Gambino remix. This boomed out in the penthouse as Scott made her entrance.
Childish Gambino – Breakwww.youtube.com/watch?v=1-buh95_zRU
There was no denying that the Dubai girl looked stunning in this setting, her legendarily high maintenance apparently paying off. Zoe had opted for snow white lingerie which looked almost angelic against her tanned skin. A plunging bustier adding to her already buxom cleavage, while the lacy bottoms snugged close to the swell of her derriere. Unlike her opponent, Scott had opted to cover her legs in sheer white stockings linked by suspenders to her panties. Her hair had been left free to flow over her shoulders.
ZOE SCOTT
Attired as they were, neither lady required more than a cursory once-over from Craig Long, and he showed immense professionalism by turning away from the pair of lingerie-clad lovelies to shoo Scott’s sound engineer and his audio equipment away before the match start. Once the battlefield had been suitably cleared he gave a little signal, receiving the sound of a bell chiming through the apartment in response.
Both ladies seemed keen to appear nonchalant, Gold making a show of rolling her eyes and tutting at her opponent’s ostentatious display while Scott was concerned with smoothing away an invisible wrinkle in that straining bustier. After a few seconds the Diva had arranged her gurls to her satisfaction and started circling to the left, Mickey mirroring her movements until the two ladies were juuuust outside arms reach. stop with her hands on those champagne-clad hips.
“Last time I had to listen to that screechy voice of yours you were saying something about a no-holds-barred match in a ring.” Gold’s nose scrunched in mock confusion as she continued. “Not saying it won’t be fun to kick your ass in luxury, but I was really looking forward to winning in front of an audience again. How come you chickened out?”
Maintaining a business-like façade, Scott haughtily said “I chose to bring you here because this is where a real woman comes to solve her problems. But I know this apartment rents higher per week than you earn in a year, so I’m going to give you an up close and personal tour of every inch before I kick you out.”
Mickey looked thoughtful for a minute, then nodded as if in understanding. “I guess you’re right, this is a little out of my comfort zone. But it’s definitely well within yours, I hear you spend a lot of time on your back in a penthouse…”
Shock and outrage competed on the Diva’s face at the implication. “I’m sure you spend a lot of time on your knees in an alleyway behind a strip club, skank. Do not dare use that tone with mUNNGH!” Whatever words Scott had been about to say were literally slapped out of her mouth, Gold taking advantage of the moment’s distraction to step in and tag a big slap across Dubai jaw.
Zoe rocked back a little, head spun by the blow, and took a second to check her lip for blood. “You don’t tell me what to do rich girl” Gold told her from a few feet away. For a second the two women just glared at each other, hostilities immediately renewed after their previous match, but then Scott threw herself forwards. Mickey was driven several steps backwards, coming to a halt with the Oil Baroness’ body pressed into her own.
Unwilling to forgive any sleight, Zoe swung a hand up for a slap of her own. Her palm snapped into Gold’s jaw and turned her pretty face for an instant. Scott took advantage by reaching behind her and yanking on a big handful of chestnut ponytail, forcing her head to tilt up and backwards while her other hand went to the Floridian’s champagne-clad rack.
Grabbing a handful, Zoe squeezed down, black-lacquered nails digging into sensitive flesh. Gold immediately switched both hands to grip on that invading wrist, the Diva scowling at her and continuing her claw. “I’ll tell you whatever I want, has-been,” she hissed. “I’m the star in this room. It was my choice to bring you here and I’m the one in control.” To demonstrate this she pressed forwards again, using the claw grip and her hair hold to push Mickey the remaining distance until her back was pressed into the wall.
Although Mickey Gold was a relative veteran, her time spent in the Jungle hadn’t ever afforded her the opportunity to fight in a penthouse. Yes, she had been through wars with elite-level names like Treymane, Brewster and Mendoza, but all of those had been in a wrestling ring, and nothing could quite prepare a fighter for the apartment experience. And so when Mickey felt the hard press of a wall at her back instead of the far more familiar flexibility of the ropes, it took her a second to react.
On the other hand Zoe had spent a good part of her early adulthood stalking the penthouses of Dubai, and she knew just what to do when she had a bytch backed into the wall. One stocking-clad knee pistoled up and buried into Gold’s breadbox, the Floridian flexing forwards slightly then coming to a stop with a follicle-induced groan because Scott still had a grasp of her ponytail.
Mickey’s hands dropped to defend against another kneestrike so the Diva just switched tactics, bending forwards and driving forwards with her shoulder to crush Mickey’s ribs against the unforgiving wall once, twice, and three times in quick succession. A shove from Gold put a stop to the fourth attempt, Scott changing her point of attack again and driving a pair of short hooked punches into Floridian stomach.
A ‘whoulph’ noise accompanied the meaty thump of her fist, but Craig Long stepped forwards for the first time in the match. “Watch the closed fists Zoe, just because we’re on carpet doesn’t mean you…” Scott whirled around and jabbed a finger in his face. “Do not tell me what to do, Greg!” she snarled, “Just stay out of my way until she’s ready to begGRRUNH!”
Admittedly the last few minutes had been something of an apartment fighting lesson for Mickey, still a little out of sorts from that mugging against the wall. But she was far too high-class of a fighter to miss the opportunity presented by Scott’s turned back. Pressing away from the wallpaper, Gold leaped off one foot to clunk a forearm into the back of the oblivious heiress’ head and sent her stumbling forwards.
Finally given some space for the first time in a few minutes, the Gold standard made the most by jogging forwards and throwing herself into another leap. At the apex she looped an arm around Scott’s neck and raised her legs out in front, dropping to a slightly awkward landing on her hip. The splashdown was far worse for the other brunette though, Zoe’s face driven into the carpet so hard that her head bounced.
A yowl escaped Scott’s lips and both hands flew to her nose, checking for damage. Unfortunately for her it didn’t look like Mickey was going to give her that luxury, the Floridian swooping in to hook hold of one of her stockinged feet and then leaning forwards to grab the corresponding wrist. Zoe just about had time to snarl “Don’t you daaaaAARRRGH” as Gold put one foot on the base of her spine and pulled back on her twin grips.
Reclining back into the plush carpet, Mickey gave herself a second to admire her own handiwork. The Oil Baroness was spread out in front of her, body bent into a torturous ark with her limbs splayed backwards. Even more pleasing were the breathy grunts and groans emerging form the Emirati’s throat as her body was wracked by the ingeniously adapted Bow and Arrow hold. But she miraculously recovered her voce when Craig Long leaned down to as “What do you say Zoe, need me to call it?”
“nnNNOOOO GET AWAY FROM ME IDIOT!” Scott’s screech brought a cruel smile to the lips of the Gold Standard. “What’s the matter rich girl?” she purred, “I thought you were meant to be at home in a penthouse but it turns out you’re just as screechy here as you are anywhere elsOWW STOP IT!”
Scott had worked her free hand over her body so that she could reach around and dig her nails into the Floridian toes pressed to her back. Mickey responded by jerking back even further, bending the wailing brunette even further. This was enough to relieve the pressure for a second but Zoe was surprisingly determined, jabbing nails into the pad of Mickey’s foot and then pinching down on the skin between her toes.
“Grrr…Get your vile hooves off me or I’ll rRRRRRrrr…rip your toes off,” the Diva demanded through heavy breaths. Miraculously it seemed like the demand might have worked, one arm being released. But that relief was extremely short lived when a whole new level of pain flooded through her scalp.
“Hey Craig, there’s nothing to stop me from ripping her hair out here, right?” Mickey’s playful tone carried a thick layer of underlying menace, and she didn’t wait for him to respond before yanking back even harder, this time tugging on Scott’s brunette tresses and bending her neck to a hellacious angle. The groaning from the Dubai girl increased considerably in pitch and frequency, that free hand abandoning her attempts at foot torture to fight the waves of agony in her scalp.
Caught between trying to remove the talons from her hair and wriggle her leg free of Gold’s grip. Zoe tried to do both and ended up doing neither, her body trapped and wilting in the Floridian’s grasp. When she gave up and beckoned to Craig Long, the referee thought his night might be finished in record time. But it turned out that the Jetsetter wasn’t interested in surrendering, instead reaching hat free hand out to grab his collar and give a big tug.
Caught off balance, the referee slipped forwards and tumbled over, ending up in a pile on top of both wrestlers. Gold was taken by surprise but showed a veteran instinct to hang on to her grips. But in the end it was Scott’s choice to wear stockings that saved her, the sheer material splitting and coming free form her foot. Zoe yanked her leg away as quickly as possible, reluctantly sacrificing a clump of hair to pull herself free before Mickey had a chance to disentangle herself form the surprised zebra.
As soon as Scott had wriggled herself free she was back on the warpath, scrambling to her feet with a wince and storming back over to the pile of limbs. “Get the hell out of my way!” she demanded of Long, giving a big shove to the embarrassed man and then driving her recently-bared right foot down in a nasty stomp that landed flush into Gold’s trunks. Taken by surprise, the Gold Standard let out a single sob of pain, both hands flying to the pain in her center.
“That’s what happens Idiot.” Scott’s voice was menacing but her attitude was businesslike, hair-hauling the other brunette up to her knees and then ramming her forwards so that her head collided with the nearby wooden bedpost. Mickey’s skull rebounded off the solid wood with a nasty ‘clunk’ noise and she would’ve collapsed onto her front again if Zoe hadn’t lifted back up and done the exact same thing again!
“C’mon Scott, I can’t let you ah dammit!” Craig’s reprimand died away when the Diva glared at him for a second and then delivered another clunking slam to Florida noggin. With the referee suitably chastised Scott shovelled her woozy opponent up into a face-down heap on the bed and clambered up alongside her. She shuffled around until those honey-tanned legs framed the back of Gold’s head, leaning forwards to grab the back of her champagne-covered briefs.
Mickey started wriggling immediately, sensing that she needed to avoid whatever was about to happen, but the Diva simply pulled her knees together so that her thick thighs formed a fleshy clamp around the other brunette’s face-like features. But worse was to come for the Gold Standard, Scott giving a big heave on captive briefs so that Gold's peachy posterior was pulled up in the air, the whisper-thin lace cutting in to a brilliantly brutal twist on a grounded wedgie!
Cries muffled by the meaty prison of Dubai thighs, Mickey put both feet to the floor and tried to push her way out of the evil predicament. This would’ve worked fine in a ring, but mired amongst silk sheets and down comforters there was no traction for her bare feet, the Gold Standard left to scrabble desperately just to alleviate some of the pressure on her tortured center. The situation was not helped at all by the sound of Scott’s voice filtering down from above.
“That’s what trash like you gets when you try to take on the best!” she crowed at the twitching Floridian. Any response from Gold was lost in those golden-tanned thighs, another concerted escape attempt thwarted when Scott pulled back even harder on the wedgie. Zoe looked extremely pleased at just how well she’d made a penthouse bed into her own personal torture chamber. “But I'm a businesswoman, even if you aren’t, So here’s your deal. Tap out right now on my ass, and I’ll let you go without ripping those cheap panties right through you.
Gold's hand did actually move towards Dubai derrière, but instead of signalling surrender the brunette's fingers dug into a claw, tearing at taut flesh hard enough to elicit a yelp from Scott. The response was to lean back and pull Mickey’s wracked body to almost vertical, her legs flailing uselessly as her weight pulled those treacherous togs even deeper! Zoe only had strength to maintain the position for a few seconds but it was enough to cause Gold’s wailing to go so loud that even the fleshy clamp around her face couldn’t dampen it.
“Haha! That’s right trailer trash! No escape!” Scott crowed. “You can beg me for mercy shortly and maybe I’ll reconsider. In the meantime...” The Ultimate Dive halved her grip on Gold’s panties and fingerwalked the free hand up over that expanse of taut derrière. From there she slipped a finger under the strained satin and...”GRAGHHHNOOOOGUB!”
The sensation of the hateful talons invading her core was enough to draw a hoarse bellow from Mickey. Scott only smiles and squeezed down, but it seemed the new intensity of pain had galvanised the Gold Standard, Mickey showing a whole heap of improvised athleticism by managing a sort of no-hands somersault towards her tormentor. The frantic innovation seemed to surprise both girls, the Floridian flipping forwards and landing with that abused derrière directly over Zoe's features!
Ideally this position would be perfect for Mickey to secure a potentially table-turning facesit, but the only thought on her mind was relieving the searing wedgie-induced pain in her nethers. As such she scrambled right off Scott’s spluttering g features and staggered over to the nearest wall, desperately rearranging her bottoms into a more comfortable position. Behind her Zoe spluttered in revulsion and fury, scrambling to her feet and charging headlong at the discombobulated Gold Standard.
The previous few minutes could be seen as a lesson for Mickey in apartment wrestling. But if that was the case she passed the next test with flying colours, instinctively swooping out of Scott’s path at the last instant so that the Heiress’s headlong charge ended in very unforgiving wall. Gold slipped behind the stunned woman and hooked a smooth Hammerlock, using it to bodily mash Scott’s prodigious chest into the wallpaper.
“You disgusting excuse for a fighter.” Gold’s voice was low and menacing, all trace of cheerfulness driven out by the vile treatment her togs had received. “All that money and swag, all the talk about class and being a real woman, and you fight like a two dollar whore. Well I guess we’ll see if you slap like one toOOH CHEAP BYTCH!”
Too outraged to respond with words and too trapped to do much else, Scott took the easiest way out. That was to raise one foot and stamp hard on Gold’s bare toes, then mule flick her leg upwards to clunk between her thighs. The double cheapshot was enough to get Mickey to release, her fury matched by the Diva as she whirled around.
Forming her hand into a knife, Scott jabbed the point into the hollow of the taller brunette’s throat. “If you’re going to use such foul language then I’m shutting you up!” Sure enough that dagger jabbed the Floridian’s vulnerable windpipe, eliciting a small gasp and a wretching noise from the bigger woman as her air was cut off. Zoe looked pleased enough with the result to try her trick again, but Gold cut her off by blocking the shot and then THWAPPING a stiff forearm into that prodigious Dubai décolletage, driving her back a step.
Slipping to the heiress’ six, Mickey reached out with one hand and hooked onto the only handhold on the expanse of Scott’s back, which just happened to be the strap of that already strained bra. Zoe obviously felt the tension as her opponent yanked back on her brassiere, both hands flying up to cup her gurls and hold them in place. But she could do nothing but stumble backwards as Gold yanked back on the straining strap and then THUNK!
A Golden forearm slammed into the back of the Diva’s head, sending her drunkenly forwards again. Mickey kept hold of that bra strap and readied for a second yank. “That was for the comment about strip clubs,” she growled, tugging the Dubai girl backwards again. Scott’s arms came up to protect her head, but the Gold Standard had a different target in mind, driving a vicious knee up to bury into the taut flesh of Zoe’s glutes.
“That was for the mugging on the bed.” Scott stumbled away again, moaning and clutching at her bruised bottom, but still the Gold Standard had more things to avenge. She gave one last pull on that bra strap, the garment making a small ripping noise but somehow managing to maintain most of it’s structural integrity as it’s wearer was dragged backwards once more.
Finally Mickey released her grip on the lacy garment, needing both hands for what was to come. With the Oil Baroness still defenceless she ducked under one Emirati arm and lifted the wailing rich girl up, holding her at the apex for a second then dropping to one knee when gravity pulled her burden back down. Scott’s wickets were split by an Inverted Atomic Drop right out of her own playbook, her white-clad undercarriage landing clean on that bony joint. Her mouth was formed into a silently appalled ‘O’ by the pain in her center, both hands flying between her legs.
“That one was for the wedgie, and this?” Mickey paused for a second to loop one bicep over Scott’s arm and neck while the corresponding leg threaded between the Diva’s. “Well this is just because you are such a bytch.” Standing up and dragging the other brunette with her, Gold cinched in her beautifully-applied Abdominal Stretch and leaned back, set on tearing the mouthy rich girl in two.
Still damaged from the assault on all areas of her undercarriage, Scott could do little but moan at this fresh torture. To make matters worse for her Craig Long had stepped in front, bending to ask “I can end this if you need Zoe. Do you want to sub...” “NO!” the Diva cut him off before he could even finish, although her denial sounded more like a plea. When her voice was a little more under control she said “No…Greg…I’m going to get out of this and tear those cheap tits of heeeARRRRGH GOD!”
The sudden increase in volume had occurred because Mickey had curled her free hand into a claw and used it to raaaaaaake her nails across the already hurting meat of Zoe’s stomach, spending a little extra time on the sensitive pit of her belly button. “Hey Craig,” She chirped brightly over the moans of the Oil Baroness, “I think she said something about tits, how about you ask her again once I do this…”
Given her relative lack of catfight experience Gold had quickly demonstrated an aptitude for the form, as evidenced by the expert way she squirmed one hand into the other brunette’s bra and dug down into that bountiful flesh. The decibel level of Scott’s roars increased significantly, but it seemed to have given the Gold Standard some further inspiration, an extremely malicious looking smile crossing her pretty face.
“I guess those tits do have advantages. There must be so much silicone in there that you can barely feel.” The sounds coming from Zoe’s mouth in response to the mailing suggested otherwise, but Gold carried on her thesis anyway: “There’s barely anything left of you that’s real. Horrible fake weave...”
Mickey demonstrated by moving her hand to give a big yank on Scott’s chestnut locks. “...plastic face...” Gold switched her grip to painfully pinch the Diva's nose. “...silicone ass...” This time the Gold Standard’s hand wandered down to curvy Dubai derrière, clawing into those sensitive cheeks to draw a fresh roar from Scott “...and the trashiest boob implants I’ve ever seen. I guess your surgeon must be richer than you.”
Taken aback by the viciousness shown by someone who usually fought so clean, Long held back until he was sure Gold had finished her tirade. He slipped in and fucked his head close to Zoe’s, wincing a little at the volume and pitch of the so-called Ultimate Diva’s cries. “I can end this Zoe!” he yelled over the hubbub. “What do you say?”
“Nnnn...nahNOOOO!” The words were barely distinguishable amidst her other cries, but they were there, Long nodding and backing off to save his eardrums. Mickey’s somewhat frustrated reaction was lost in the din but her words reached Scott’s ears. “Fine. Then I’m going to end this my way.”
Keen to act on her words, Gold broke half of the Abdominal stretch and braced her legs, reaching down and hauling the discombobulated Diva to her waist. Then she simply lifted up as far as she could and let go, Scott plummeting out of her clutches. The move could barely be classed as 'wrestling', but it proved to be very effective when Zoe dropped from several feet and landed square on her face and chest.
A quick glance was enough to assure Gold that the vile woman wasn’t going anywhere for the moment, so she backed off, grabbing a nearby coffee table and dragging it closer. Long stood by with a confused look on his face, but things became clearer when the Gold Standard perched on the table and waited for Scott to stir. As soon as the Oil Baroness had pushed herself up onto her elbows Mickey launched off, slamming down on the Dubai girl's beleaguered torso with a passable version of her own signature Gold Stamp move!
Exploding into a prone, boneless starfish, it looked like Scott’s night was almost over, her lights almost dimmed. But it seemed that Mickey had one more trick to play before she was ready to end things. To do this she dragged Zoe up to her jelly legs then hopped up to the bed.
“This should’ve finished things last time, you cheating brat!” Gold declared to the insensate Emirati. “I don’t care that this an apartment instead of a ring, I’m still going to beat you like I should have done months ago!” With that the brunette took a deep breath and launched into the air.
Spinning as she flew, it was clear that Mickey was trying for a diving version of her Gold Big finisher, the move that had earned most of her important wins in the ring. Her spin and reach to hook a facelock was textbook, but it seemed that the apartment setting wasn’t quite the right place for such technical wrestling. This was proved when Scott reached up and gave an extra shove to the flying Floridian, the extra momentum sending her sailing past her intended target! Instead she smashed down over the solid wooden coffee table, the back of her neck whiplashing brutally over the table edge.
Craig Longs hands flew to his head, concerned that one of his charges may just have had a serious injury. But Zoe Scott showed no such concern. Instead she stomped over to Gold's decimated body, reached down, and fired out a version of her own Showstopper palm strike directly into the other brunette’s face. Mickey’s head bounced hideously off the solid oak, earning a yell from Long.
“JESUS CHRIST ZOE! Get off her, she might be seriously...” The Diva swished over to him and stopped with her face only a few inches from his. “For every word you say between now and announcing my victory, I’ll do that to her again. So shut up and stay out of my way until I say otherwise.”
Dismissing him with a wave of the hand, Zoe turned back to her semi-conscious opponent and dragged her by the legs until she was in some space. Mickey barely moved, limp on her back with eyes closed and breathing shallow. The Oil Baroness had no problem reaching down to tear at her bra top, ripping until the Floridian’s modest chest was fully exposed. Then she sat beside her and wormed her legs around, tugging both Gold's arms behind her back and then trapping them between her own thighs.
Glancing down at her own shredded bra, Scott gave a brief tug so that her own overflowing gurls were also freed, then reached forwards to hook both hands behind Mickey’s head. A sudden yank back was enough to cinch in the finisher known as 'Spotlight' in a FAWN ring, bringing brutal pressure to bear on Gold's trapped neck and shoulders.
Searing pain through her upper body was enough to corral what remained of the Gold Standard's senses, those green eyes snapping open in horror as she realised her predicament. A loud yelp of protest came to her lips, but over the rush of blood in her ears she could still hear what the vengeful Dubai Diva said next.
“Look at me, trash.” Zoe’s eyes were locked on the Floridian’s, although Mickey’s lids were drooping significantly. I’d let you tap out right now, but all my fans are watching my victory and I don’t want them to have to see your horrible blotchy face.
Any potential response from the Gold Standard was rendered moot when Scott leaned forwards and buried her features in pillowy, golden-tanned flesh. Mickey had no defence as her world darkened, reduced to sucking short, nipping breaths of sweaty air as the prison of Dubai décolletage robbed her of sir and life. But it seemed that Scott still want quite satisfied.
After about twenty seconds, when she could feel that life was almost gone from the squirming brunette, Zoe shifted her shoulders slightly, grinding Gold’s nose against her sternum and allowing in just a modicum of sweat-soaked air. Another shift did the same, keeping the jugg-shocked Gold Standard trapped agonisingly on the very edge of consciousness as she made her last demand.
“Give up, trash.” Scott’s voice was juuuust loud enough to reach through the satiny prison surrounding Gold's ears. “Submit right now. Because I control you now, and if you don’t admit that I’m not letting you wake up until the hospital.
Abused, oxygen starved and potentially concussed as she was, Mickey Gold was still a high class fighter. And that was why her hand wavered for almost fifteen seconds before swatting lightly at the carpet. The submission brought a release in other ways, the Floridian’s body finally drifting into unconsciousness. Scott held on anyway though, giving those snoozing features an extra twenty seconds of jostling before dropping the girl like a bag of potatoes and clambering gingerly to her feet.
Long had already signalled the timekeeper back in the area, to a chorus of boos at the outcome. Now he stepped over towards Scott and reached out for...
“Get my robe and play my music.”
A confused look crossed the senior official's face. “You said I had to announce the...”
The look Scott gave him could have curdled milk. “Mr robe, and my music. Now.” For a long moment Craig considered telling her where to shove this demand, coming as it did on top of everything in the last half hour, hell the last 18 months she’d been in FAWN. But everyone knew Zoe Scott was 'friends' with the company brass, and besides he was too tired to argue.
It took a second to gather the robe and signal the sound man, Scott slipping the garment on and turning to face ‘her’ public. She placed one foot on Gold’s gulping tummy just as the sound kicked in, Craig Long silently raising her hand and then leaving her to preen in her spotlight.