Post by caspian on Mar 15, 2017 5:57:28 GMT -6
Pre-Event: Tight-fitting
(feat. Emily Ratajkowski, McKenna Berkley)
Emily:
McKenna:
Emily Ratajkowski slowly re-building a solid reputation for herself these past few months, clawing her way back into the spotlight with recent wins over Free Agent Saoirse Ronan and the SIRENs’ Diana Korkunova. Whether it’s her recent successes getting into her head or otherwise, the Vixen has been gaining a bit of a reputation of behaving like a little diva backstage, especially in the hours leading up to her fight this evening.
Emily stared at her own reflection in the full-length mirror and shook her head, deciding that the micro-yellow and orange bikini did not particularly accentuate her curvy figure sufficiently, and she certainly would never head out to the ring with a thousand fans’ eyes trained on this ensemble. Frowning, she bellowed out to noone in particular, “THIS IS F*CKKK. GET ME ANOTHER!” This pattern would repeat itself another ten times, Emily stripping down and flinging an old swimsuit out and hitting the dressing room stall. Like clockwork, another outfit would be rotated in timidly via an anonymous hand through the curtain, the entire staff unwilling to face the wrath of a young woman unable to find her perfect outfit.
Emily sighed to herself. ‘These imbeciles are gonna get it from me,’ she decided for the upteenth time as she began undressing again from this latest fashion disaster. Suddenly though: a flash of movement behind she barely noticed, Emily’s eyes trained downwards as she snaked the string-bikini off her legs. When she stood up again though, there was an unfamiliar face standing behind her with a cheeky grin and her orange-blended hair.
“Hiya, Emily,” McKenna Berkley grins as she shoves the surprised Vixen forward, slamming her forehead into the glass wall. Emily lets out a pained GASP as her opponent later in the evening twists her arm behind her back and pins her to the cold glass. “WHAT THE F*CK??” Emily spouts wildly, her lips pressed into the glistening mirror making it hard for her to form coherent words. McKenna presses her own lips to Emily’s ear and hisses back, “I heard this was your favourite place, so I wanted to pay you a visit before our match,” the redhead chuckles as she pulls on Emily’s hair and thunks her face repeatedly into the glass, relishing the painful groans from the brunette’s lips.
Emily struggles as best she can, of course, flailing her free arm and leg backwards, but McKenna’s close proximity makes it difficult to dislodge her completely. McKenna showing her expert wrestling skills,, licks her lips as she plunges her free hand into the small of Emily’s back over and over again, clearly taking advantage of the full extent of Ratajkowski’s body afforded to her. Emily now resorting to screaming vulgarities as she grows desperate in the small confines of the dressing room, cursing out, “F*CK YOU, YOU LITTLE WH*RE!!” and “GET THE F*CK OFF ME B*TCH!?!”, later wondering why no-one else from the backstage staff noticed McKenna’s intrusion of the private changing chambers, but the staff later professing innocence when they assumed that Emily had simply been ranting about the latest fashion disaster to herself, and that the cursing and swearing from the Vixen’s lips was really nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, Emily would later catch the hidden smirks as the staff turned to gossip and snicker, suspecting that they had secretly allowed McKenna to get inside all along.
But it didn’t matter for now - she had to get out of this predicament immediately and show this rookie b*tch who was boss. With a roar, Emily lurched her body backwards, putting all her weight into the move shoving backwards - a last-ditch effort to dislodge McKenna… and it worked - the redhead concentrating so hard on sinking her fists into Emily’s lithe body that the sudden push threw her off balance, sending both girls tumbling backwards, through the curtain and out of the tiny stall. There were gasps of shock as the various make-up artists and costume designers in the room immediately jumped up in surprise and went to call for help. Emily took the lull in between the madness to straddle her foe, landing SLAP after SLAP into her reddened face. McKenna’s turn to squeal and squirm, trapped beneath, her shoulders pinned to the ground by Ratajkowski’s thighs.
Soon enough, security rushes into the room and pries both girls apart, kicking, screaming and promising vengeance in the ring later that evening. McKenna, rookie as she may be, certainly has proven her boldness (or reckless) behaviour here, a devilishly smile plastered on her face as she’s led out of the VIX locker room, leaving a distraught Emily Ratajkowski knelt down on the carpeted floor, picking up the remnants of her tattered bikini.
(feat. Emily Ratajkowski, McKenna Berkley)
Emily:
McKenna:
Emily Ratajkowski slowly re-building a solid reputation for herself these past few months, clawing her way back into the spotlight with recent wins over Free Agent Saoirse Ronan and the SIRENs’ Diana Korkunova. Whether it’s her recent successes getting into her head or otherwise, the Vixen has been gaining a bit of a reputation of behaving like a little diva backstage, especially in the hours leading up to her fight this evening.
Emily stared at her own reflection in the full-length mirror and shook her head, deciding that the micro-yellow and orange bikini did not particularly accentuate her curvy figure sufficiently, and she certainly would never head out to the ring with a thousand fans’ eyes trained on this ensemble. Frowning, she bellowed out to noone in particular, “THIS IS F*CKKK. GET ME ANOTHER!” This pattern would repeat itself another ten times, Emily stripping down and flinging an old swimsuit out and hitting the dressing room stall. Like clockwork, another outfit would be rotated in timidly via an anonymous hand through the curtain, the entire staff unwilling to face the wrath of a young woman unable to find her perfect outfit.
Emily sighed to herself. ‘These imbeciles are gonna get it from me,’ she decided for the upteenth time as she began undressing again from this latest fashion disaster. Suddenly though: a flash of movement behind she barely noticed, Emily’s eyes trained downwards as she snaked the string-bikini off her legs. When she stood up again though, there was an unfamiliar face standing behind her with a cheeky grin and her orange-blended hair.
“Hiya, Emily,” McKenna Berkley grins as she shoves the surprised Vixen forward, slamming her forehead into the glass wall. Emily lets out a pained GASP as her opponent later in the evening twists her arm behind her back and pins her to the cold glass. “WHAT THE F*CK??” Emily spouts wildly, her lips pressed into the glistening mirror making it hard for her to form coherent words. McKenna presses her own lips to Emily’s ear and hisses back, “I heard this was your favourite place, so I wanted to pay you a visit before our match,” the redhead chuckles as she pulls on Emily’s hair and thunks her face repeatedly into the glass, relishing the painful groans from the brunette’s lips.
Emily struggles as best she can, of course, flailing her free arm and leg backwards, but McKenna’s close proximity makes it difficult to dislodge her completely. McKenna showing her expert wrestling skills,, licks her lips as she plunges her free hand into the small of Emily’s back over and over again, clearly taking advantage of the full extent of Ratajkowski’s body afforded to her. Emily now resorting to screaming vulgarities as she grows desperate in the small confines of the dressing room, cursing out, “F*CK YOU, YOU LITTLE WH*RE!!” and “GET THE F*CK OFF ME B*TCH!?!”, later wondering why no-one else from the backstage staff noticed McKenna’s intrusion of the private changing chambers, but the staff later professing innocence when they assumed that Emily had simply been ranting about the latest fashion disaster to herself, and that the cursing and swearing from the Vixen’s lips was really nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, Emily would later catch the hidden smirks as the staff turned to gossip and snicker, suspecting that they had secretly allowed McKenna to get inside all along.
But it didn’t matter for now - she had to get out of this predicament immediately and show this rookie b*tch who was boss. With a roar, Emily lurched her body backwards, putting all her weight into the move shoving backwards - a last-ditch effort to dislodge McKenna… and it worked - the redhead concentrating so hard on sinking her fists into Emily’s lithe body that the sudden push threw her off balance, sending both girls tumbling backwards, through the curtain and out of the tiny stall. There were gasps of shock as the various make-up artists and costume designers in the room immediately jumped up in surprise and went to call for help. Emily took the lull in between the madness to straddle her foe, landing SLAP after SLAP into her reddened face. McKenna’s turn to squeal and squirm, trapped beneath, her shoulders pinned to the ground by Ratajkowski’s thighs.
Soon enough, security rushes into the room and pries both girls apart, kicking, screaming and promising vengeance in the ring later that evening. McKenna, rookie as she may be, certainly has proven her boldness (or reckless) behaviour here, a devilishly smile plastered on her face as she’s led out of the VIX locker room, leaving a distraught Emily Ratajkowski knelt down on the carpeted floor, picking up the remnants of her tattered bikini.