CBAD: Stacy Keibler vs. Torrie Wilson

Tale of the Tape:

Stacy Keibler (39-29-1, 31 KO)
5'11, 44 years old
Celebrity Wrestling Federation
Former (2x) FCBA Welterweight Title Holder (3 Defenses)

vs.

Torrie Wilson (34-46-0, 25 KO)
5’9, 48 years old
Free Agent
Former FCBA Middleweight Title Holder
Former FCBA Welterweight Title Holder

(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)

Intro:
"AND NOW! Making her 70th appearance in the ring, fighting under the Celebrity Wrestling Federation flag. Please welcome the Baltimore, Maryland native, standing 5 foot 11, weighing in at 130 pounds, STACYYYY KEEEEEIBLERRRRR!!”

Outfits:
Keibler’s lithe, Amazonian frame was lewdly wrapped in a microscopic string bikini that left little to the imagination. The blonde’s sternum swelled with deep, calming breaths; her taut abdomen sculpted out of bronze, her perky tits delicately compacted by a thin-banded bandeau top that belted tightly around her mushrooming B-cups. As she hit the apron, Keibler craned her long stems and bent at the waist, playfully shimmying her hips at the base of her toe-touch as she ducked through the ropes and into the ring. Her pale-white string thong was devoured by folds of flesh, finally rising and rearranging the twined, biting string bottoms by hiking them high up her hips. Ending her old-school WWE entrance to raucous applause, the blonde arched and pressed to her tippy toes against the ropes, lifting to tie back her tightly-braided pony tail before pumping her gloved fists together.

Despite creeping toward her 50’s, Torrie Wilson still maintained the spirit, fitness level, and borderline-lewd showmanship of her younger years in the WWE. As if she were going to reenact her Wet and Wild match with Candice Michelle, Wilson was also clad in a sheer white top; her cutoff tank top dangling just below the curve of her bust as she arched her buxom upper half and readied in her corner. The chiseled blonde tugged on the hips of her high-waisted thong, flashing a wink toward her long-time rival across the ring.

Round 1:
Keibler was 1-2 against Wilson in her boxing career; their last meeting coming in 2017 with Torrie coming out on top. Looking to draw even and turn their rivalry into an eventual best-of-5, Stacy emerged from her corner with an uncharacteristic eruption of offense. The leggy blonde tore into Wilson with unfettered, sweeping hooks as she walked her down with pace; a left to the ribs, right to the cheek, left-right cutting into her hip, uppercut to the solar-plexus. Wilson swatted at Keibler’s advances before a colossal overhand rattled off her teeth, buckling Wilson for a split second before she sulked into the corner and hid behind her forearms. A torrid left-left-RIGHT batted the windswept blonde’s forehead; snapping her skull straight back before narrowly ducking a shoulder-high scythe from the Baltimore native.

With an exerting grunt, Wilson buried her shoulder into Stacy’s gut and drove the sweltering blonde to her heels; churning her rippling lower half until she bucked the sinewy Keibler clean off her mark and escaped the early onslaught. Keibler wryly smirked as the crowd roared their approval; appreciative of the early action as Torrie tried to make sense of the avalanche from her opponent. An impressive first from the younger Diva, 10-8 Keibler.

Round 2/3:
Despite the knowledge that Keibler had taken this fight as a warm-up for her upcoming Jaguar Title fight with Palicki, Wilson had no intention of serving as her training dummy. At least not willingly. The second round saw the seesaw tip right back on Keibler’s head; as Wilson flashed her age-defying muscle and completely overwhelmed the slender beauty with ring-shaking power. Ribs, gut, tits, hip, ribs, liver; Keibler was caught up in a twister of body-shots as Wilson looked to make breathing a living hell. Strung out across the top rope, Keibler bleated as Torrie held her chin with an outstretched palm and CLUBBED her chest with a heart-stopping overhand; concaving the blonde’s sternum and nearly slinging her straight through the ropes. Wilson shows exactly why she’s in such high demand as a Free Agent, she’s still got plenty of pop to test even the top Welterweights.

Limping back out for the third after a troubling 8-10 second, Keibler took a leap of faith and ended up flat on her face. After a disgruntled glove-tap in the opening seconds, Keibler corked and exploded through a trebuchet-right; spinning clumsily through the miss and being brutally skewered in the navel on the follow. The blonde sputtered and gagged her mouthpiece to the canvas as Wilson buried a suffocating uppercut into her waistline; her smoky bulbs bugging as she planted a palm on the mat to avoid spilling to all fours. Wilson stalked with a right hand cocked at her ear; trailing just long enough for Keibler to catch her balance and wheel to face her before SPIKING the crunchy fist against Keibler’s flushed-red cheek. Keibler’s neck snapped through a violent half-rotation; sloshing gracelessly to her belly as the kiss goodnight from Wilson sent her lifelessly blubbering to the canvas.

1… 2… 3… 4… Stacy squirmed and crawled toward the near ropes with a whimper as Wilson preened above her; reveling in the sight of the blonde’s perked ass as she extended a hand for the bottom rope. Her bicep shook as she pawed for the rubber; slowly using the springy ladder to pull herself up to her knees.

5… 6… 7… Pausing on her haunches as she tucked and shimmied her bandeau top back into proper position, Keibler rose in the far corner; shaking her fuzzy head as Wilson taunted with an extended right fist from afar. With just thirty seconds left in the round, Wilson found some of her showmanship-form; shaking her hips for the crowd and toying with the lead-footed Keibler. A closing flurry stamped an exclamation point on Wilson’s round as she slung a meaty left-left-uppercut through Stacy’s jaw at the bell; a mist of blood staining both blondes’ sheer-white tops as the third ends with a bang. Another 10-8 drubbing from Wilson.

Round 4/5:
Always a crowd favorite, Wilson spent the fourth garnering more and more fans through her raunchy spectacle; parading around the ring as though she were taking a victory lap as Keibler tried to run her down from well behind. The momentary punching siesta cost Wilson a narrow 10-9 fourth round on the scorecard, but she put the thrusters right back on to start the fifth.

In the first ten, Torrie flipped the switch right back on; blistering Keibler with a machine-gun left-left-right-left-right. Keibler’s lanky frame buckled as her upper half was punctured by the blinding meteor shower; hook to the underside of her rack, overhand to the eye-socket, cleaver to the rib cage, tap-tap to the hips. The blonde bent and sprawled in slow motion as Wilson brutally sawed through her; finally punctuating with a heart-stopping straight that flattened Stacy’s bouncing chest. Keibler gagged as she pitched forward; wailing as she stumbled forward for a hopeful clinch, only to be turnstiled and launched into the corner.

A flick of sweat and blood stained the canvas as Wilson slid in and ripped a left hook across her lips; gutting the blonde with a pair of wheelbarrow uppercuts to her flexing navel. Exasperated, Keibler’s taut belly spasmed with sharp pants as Torrie craned into her and drummed rhythmic rights through her tummy and solar-plexus; drawing the whimpering Diva against the ropes. Miraculously Keibler kept her footing; flattened by a blinding percussion of heavy right hands for a full minute before she could scamper away. Wilson shows unbelievable punching stamina and completely flatlines Stacy’s offensive game; taking the fifth with a commanding 10-0 shutout.

Round 6:
In just the first twenty seconds of the sixth, the crowd hit their feet; roaring as one blonde was forced into an overwhelmed backpedal. Jab-cross to the forehead, side-hook to the liver, scoop-left to the cheek, straight-jab to the lips; the aggressor’s braided, blonde pony tail springing as she tamped the spirits of her backpedaling opponent with hit-after-hit. Ribs, hip, ribs, rack, chin; in the blink of an eye it was WILSON who was being collapsed upon. The mountain of momentum she had built was tumbling down around her; hoarsely grunting as Keibler arched her sinewy frame and twisted through a BRUTAL right-handed dart to Torrie’s tits.

Wilson’s midsection rippled with muscle as Stacy’s fist rattled off her sternum; sputtering as though her engine was malfunctioning as she tried to sidle away from the suddenly invigorated Baltimore native. Wilson squealed and curled around a right that slid beneath the curve of her rib cage; only to be abruptly cut off by a rising left that was poured down her throat. Her head snapping straight back, Wilson spilled spine-first into the corner; arms sprawled over the top rope as Keibler rushed in. Loading a right, Stacy was JUST intercepted by the official; the bell ringing right before she took a stride to unload on the dazed blonde. Somehow, Keibler pulled herself off the literal and proverbial mat and flipped this fight on its head; striking right back with an unimaginable shutout round of her own. Back-to-back 0-10, 10-0 rounds and Stacy is right back in the mix.

Round 7:
Undeterred by having the rug pulled out from beneath her potential knockout blow to close the last round, Stacy picked right back up with their frenetic waltz; walking Wilson out of the center of the ring and back into the same coffin-corner. Left-hook-jab-right-right; Wilson bounced and twisted against the ropes as Keibler speed-bagged her bobbing upper half. A crunchy left to the clavicles and Wilson’s concerned expression twisted into one of agonized shock; throatily exhaling as another pair of right uppercuts punctured her ribs on the other side. Wilson teetered over at the waist as she was side-swiped by another gutting rib-shot; wailing as Keibler then ripped a rocket-right that exploded through her chin. Wilson lifted to her tippy toes as her head snapped straight back; gutturally squelching as her knees pinched inward and folded lifelessly to the canvas in a puddle.

1… 2… 3… The lawn-chaired blonde gracelessly sprawled to all fours; pawing at the canvas as she spit out her mouthpiece and slid out on her chest. Taking a moment to bury her pulsing skull in her hands, Wilson slowly shook away the fuzz and pressed back to her knees.

4… 5… Keibler smirked as Torrie wobbled back to her heels, feeling meteorically confident at having completely ERASED a knockdown and a shutout in just two rounds. Wilson shook out the cobwebs and took her time in the corner; only choosing to engage with a few shaky rabbit-punches as the round dwindled down. The last two rounds could not have gone worse for Wilson, but at least she was still standing. Keibler SOARS in front with a 10-8 seventh.

Round 8/9:
After a slow, but table-setting eighth that saw Wilson tie things on the card, both fighters looked to steal what might become the deciding ninth round. Looking to get her tail in the air to play keep-a-way in the final round, Keibler tried to wrangle the blonde in the opening thirty seconds of the ninth. A looping lasso fell short, then a hopeful one-two did the same; opening Keibler up to be rushed by the heavier Diva. A left tore through her slender ribs as her midsection was exposed on the whiff; freezing Stacy for another bitter jab-jab-RIGHT to come through. Keibler gagged as Wilson’s torrid right pancaked her chest; her legs going numb as she wobbled in place. A rush of hot air burst from her lungs before she managed to slither away; her heels dragging as she escaped to the comfort of the ropes at her back.

Wilson was dogged, skipping forward and torching the retreating blonde with a pair of overhand rights; each crashing against her forearms and following through to her cheek. A flushed Keibler whittled away with a lazy retort, only inciting Torrie to dive head-first into her with a brutal screwdriver-left to her waistline. Keibler’s toned belly spasmed with frenzied pants, struggling to buffer the blonde’s pressure as Torrie started to seize the reins. Left to the ribs, left to the rack, THUMPING right to the shoulder; Keibler whimpered as her clam-shell was cracked wide open. Hook-jab-cross-hook; Keibler’s statuesque frame buckled and winced as Wilson zippered hellacious bombs up her torso, finally slipping a left through to her mouth. In the last ten, Wilson backed off, content to take a 10-8 round and a significant lead to the final round.

Round 10:
The stage was set; a tumultuous affair coming down to a two point lead for Wilson on the scorecard. Keibler might not know it precisely, but her corner sure seemed to think she needed a knockdown or better. McElhone beamed with pride as she scooped Keibler up by the neck and gave her a hug before shoving her off the stool; seemingly telling the blonde how appreciative she was of her heart, win or lose.

The first two minutes were a showcase of exhaustion; Keibler scooting along hot on the trail of Wilson as Torrie made sure to stay away from the bear-traps laid across the ring. Keibler was front-footed now as her corner shouted to signal the last minute; barreling down on Wilson along the ropes. A left overhand whizzes by, Keibler falling into the ropes before rebounding after Wilson. Another left comes up short, a hook doing the same, running out of time and stamina to complete the comeback. Wilson wades into the far corner in the last fifty, pawing out at Keibler with a distancing left. Keibler pushes to make contact, giving Wilson what she wants, allowing the blonde to grab hold of her shoulder and feel a sense of control. Just as Wilson leans into Stacy, the blonde springs her trap; CHOPPING down on Wilson’s wrist to break her grip and steal her balance. Wilson stumbles somewhat to her side, just as the Baltimore native RIPS a slicing left through her ribs.

“HNNNNGGGOHHH” Wilson reels, crunching over at the waist as Keibler OPENS UP. Left to the rack, right to bobble her chin, left-right that stamps her taut navel. Wilson is in deep waters and Keibler is dragging her lower; hook-hook to the hip, jab to the nose, THUNDERING uppercut to her slack-jaw. Torrie falters and GOES DOWN!

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… Wilson folds over her own lower half and gracelessly flounders to her backside; her arms strewn above her head as she unravels spread-eagle at Stacy’s feet. Stacy goes down to an exhausted crouch right behind Wilson, barely standing as Torrie’s mascara-smeared bulbs roll into the back of her head. Her sweat-drenched rack jostles with convulsions as her upper half swells with deep, sporadic breaths; unable to budge an inch before the official gets halfway done.

6… 7… 8… 9… 10! SHE’S OUT!!

"And your winner, by KO in Round 10, STACYYYYY KEIBBBBLERRRR!!!!”