Jobber in Training Parts 1-8

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It was the day before the Championship fight. The peak of KayCee's career. She'd been close several times, but this time she had made it. And about time. In the past, there had always been an excuse. She wasn't ready yet. It was someone else's turn. The promoters wanted to bring on a rising star, not for her to win but just to give her more exposure and a boost to her career. KayCee had no illusions. She knew these decisions weren't based on the merit of the wrestlers; they were business decisions, taken in favour of the bottom line in the accounts.



This time, though, the time was right. And she was ready. She had never been fitter, or stronger, or more skilled as a fighter. She was up against the reigning Champ, Diana. But she had had her day. Everyone was agreed on that. The bookmakers especially. They were laying odds in KayCee's favour. It would be a tough fight, certainly not a walk over. But, barring mishaps, tomorrow would be the night when KayCee finally held the Champtionship Belt high in the air as she received the applause of the crowd.



Right now, she was waiting to be called into her agent's office, fully expecting to hear about the plans for her future, for her career as Champion.



Viv was a former fighter. Tall, muscular, strong, her body still toned although she had not fought for at least a decade. She emerged from her office and strode over to shake KayCee firmly by the hand. Dressed for attention, bare legged, short leather skirt, and a dazzling white satin blouse.



'KayCee, thanks for coming, good to see you. Let's go into my office.'



She led the way, treating KayCee to a view of her tight ass.



Settled into their chairs on either side of the wide desk, the pair checked each other out before Viv came, as she always did, straight to the point.



'I asked you to pop in because I knew you'd want to hear about tomorrow's fight and your future.'



'Yes, you're right, it will be an exciting day tomorrow and I'd love to hear about the fights you have lined up for me.'



'Right, that's my girl, of course. The plan is tomorrow is the first day of your new career. You will get off to a good start, but by the third round Viv's experience will tell and she will steadily take control of the fight. You will lose the fight, but your performance will set you on your new career,' Viv paused.



'Sorry, did you say I am going to lose?' Where the hell had that idea come from? 'And starting a new career? Just what does that mean exactly?'



'It means,' Viv paused again for effect, 'it means that you are going to become a jobber.'

 

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'What the fuck?' OK, so that wasn't very articulate, but it was the best she could do on the spur of the moment. 'Who came up with that stupid idea?'



'Actually, sweetie, I did.' Viv's voice was cold.



'You can't be serious, Viv. Really. I mean, I've worked hard for this shot at the Belt. You know that. I deserve it – I deserve to win.'



'Yes,' Viv had an air of being patient with a difficult child, 'you have worked hard, but you don't deserve to win, you don't deserve anything. You get what the promoters are willing to give you. That's the bottom line.'



'Please, Viv,' KayCee hated to beg, but shecould see no alternative, 'let me win this fight, and then I'll retire, at the top, please.'



'That's just it, you see I knew you'd understand.'



What? Really?



'You're going to have to explain that to me, Viv.'



'Right, OK. Like you say, win the Belt and that's your last fight. The end of your career. At your age, you have nowhere to go. Worked hard, put in the time, give a chance and won the Belt. End of narrative. End of career. You've reached your peak as a plausible fighter. There are others who are younger, fitter, more hungry than you have been for success. You won't be able to compete.'



KayCee had to concede, to herself mind you, not to anyone else, that Viv might have a point. But Viv was not finished.



'Transitioning to a jobber is a good move for you. A new narrative for the promoters. And you'll be great for the role.'



'How so?'



'Well for a start you're successful. Audiences like seeing someone brought down, humbled. And you're still fit – that's a turn on for many, seeing someone like that dominated by someone smaller. And, let's not forget that you're sexy. You've got a fantastic body and that's a big market. The sexier the girl, the better. Guys – and some girls too – get themselves off at the sight of someone like you getting the shit kicked out of them.'



'Great.' So that was to be my future. Proving clips for someone to wank over. And this was all Viv's idea. 'Thanks, Viv.'



'I knew you'd see it my way.'



'So what happens tomorrow?'



'You'll start strong, knocking Diana all over the place. Then, in the third, she'll turn on you. Go along with whatever she does. Don't just take it. Fight back, make it look good, but don't do her any damage. The betting is for her to get the first fall in the sixth and then a knockout at the end of the eighth.'



'Is that what you're betting on?'



'Of course,' Viv grinned. 'Shall I put something on for you as well?'



Well, after all, why not?



'Great,' Viv was reaching for her phone, a sure sign that the meeting was over. 'Oh and by the way,' she called as KayCee reached the door, 'if you could slip in a dirty move in the seventh, that would be great too.'

 

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The Big Day came. Well what had been going to be The Big Day. Now, it was just the day and it tasted sour to KayCee. All the ritual preparation felt empty, because they were. There was no anticipation, no excitement.



She had to put on a show. She knew that, like the seasoned pro that she was, she put on a good one. Made up to look her best, in a sparkling pink outfit, smiles all round as she walked to the ring, acknowledging the cheers of the crowd, her sexiest pose as she did a circuit of the ring. Gamely applauding the reining Champion Diana as she arrived, wearing the belt, the one that KayCee would never wear.



In her mind she knew she would have to stagger from the ring, supported by her trainer, a few cheers and boos and catcalls to signal her failure. But she would not go down without a fight. Diana would have to pay for her victory.



The bell for the first round. So it began, the opening moves of the final fight of her career. Of this career.



She sprinted across the ring towards her opponent. A flurry of forearm jabs pushed Diana back into her corner, until the ref dragged KayCee off and sent her back to the centre of the ring. Diana showed no sign of concern, but was met by a flying drop kick that landed her on her ass with a thud. She took her time to get back onto her feet, but before she was barely upright, KayCee had charged into her, knocking her onto her back. As she landed, KayCee grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her legs up over the head to try for the first fall. Gasps of surprise and cheers for the challenger drifted away as Diana shook her off like a fly.



On social media, fans of both fighters were already posting their views on how the fight would pan out. One view was that Diana had had her day and had no answer to the attacks. Another was that KayCee knew Diana was the better fighter with more stamina and had to take her out early if she was to have a chance of winning. A third was that KayCee was showing her inexperience by using up too much energy too soon. A fourth was that Diana was deliberately letting her opponent wear herself out and was just absorbing her attacks. A fifth remarked that this had all the hallmarks of a fix.



While this was going on, the fighters were flying back and forth across the ring as each managed to throw the other into the ropes. Even they were losing interest in this when the whole course of the fight changed. KayCee was just bouncing off the ropes when Diana chanced a quick drop kick. By all rights, it should have sent KayCee through the ropes and out of the ring. By a fluke, her footing slipped and she fell, leaving Diana to sail over her to crotch herself on the middle rope. As the cheers rang out, KayCee managed to reach out for the rope and shake her opponent out of the ring, to bounce off the apron and land almost in the laps of the front row of the audience. She stumbled to her feet, holding her lower back. As she clambered into the ring, her knees buckled and she doubled over her crotch.



She was as social media announced unanimously fortunate to be saved by the bell for the end of the first round.



The general opinion in the arena, even among her fans, was that she had only herself to blame. No one, especially those who could see her pale face and winces of pain, suggested that this was an act. As one wag put it, even if she managed to retain her title, her post-fight celebrations would be seriously curtailed.

 

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Diana slumped onto the stool thoughtfully provided by her trainer. Took a swig from the water bottle, swilled her mouth and spat into the bucket.



'Bitch, damn her to hell and back.'



Finally she gave in and double over her crotch, cursing that the cameras around the ring would pick it up.



Her trainer was not sympathetic.



'It's your fault. You didn't need to do it. All you had to do was let her wear herself out. You're going to win. It's all arranged.'



Diana groaned but managed to stop herself doubling up again.



'I don't want that bitch to look good for a second.'



'Well, she's certainly looking better than you are right now.'



'She's hurt my frigging back. That wasn't part of the plan.'



'No and throwing yourself out of the ring wasn't part of the plan either.'



Diana cursed again.



'She's spoilt it, damn her.'



'No, she hasn't spoilt it. It just changes the narrative. Instead of: skillful professional prevails. Now: skillful professional prevails despite her injury.'



'She'll go for my back. You wait, you'll see. A rank beginner would do that.'



'Have faith, luv, go out there and give her hell.'



As he finished speaking, the bell rang for the second round.



Both fighters approached the centre of the ring cautiously. Until – a sudden burst of speed, ending with KayCee dropping and rolling under Diana's feet, to know her onto the canvas. A loud grunt as she landed on her back, was matched by the loud groan from her supports as KayCee swiftly flicked her opponent onto her back and dropped her knee directly on the site of her pain. Seconds later, she had crasped Diana's arms and was arching her back into an excruciating surfboard.



'ARGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH'



No doubt that was genuine. No play acting. No trick to give KayCee a false sense that she had the upper hand.



Social media was clear: Champ in TROUBLE.



But if that was trouble, it was nothing to compare with what followed. KayCee released Diana's arms, locked her feet behind her knees, grabbed her arms again and began rocking, rocking, until finally she hoist Diana into a ceiling hold.

 

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The ref was by Diana's ear instantly. 'Submit?'



'Fuck off.' She knew the ref had to do it, just to show he was useful and, of course, to build up some tension. Tension for the spectators, obviously.



Diana was furious. KayCee had to put on a show, Diana understood that, but this was too much. She knew Diana had to win and she knew she was injured, so she could afford to take it easy on her opponent. It wasn't like she was going to actually try to win. Surely not. That would be career breaking for her. And for Diana for that matter.



KayCee was hoisting her opponent up and letting her drop before hoisting her again. Pushing her legs wide, displaying her crotch for the cameras.



'No.' Diana's shout was loud enough to be heard without the mics planted around the ring. Was it in response to the ref's insistent question? A question that sounded more and more like he was inviting her to submit and move the fight along. Or was it to KayCee telling her to release the hold? Maybe even pleading with her? No, definitely, no that was not something a reigning champion would ever do.



The cameras were picking up Diana's face. Every wince and flinch of pain – pain from the agony in her shoulders – pain from the pain in her back and side. Every grimace as she caught sight of herself stretched out, legs wide, inviting. Worst of all, worse than the pain, the embarrassment, humiliation at finding herself in this position.



'Go on, dyke, show them that fat pussy.' KayCee was starting to enjoy herself, tormenting her opponent.



'Fuck off, bitch,' Diana was sensitive to claims that she was gay. OK, she did look butch, there was nothing she could do about that, but she was not gay, not attracted to the women she wrestled, not even (like some) aroused by the bodily contact.



'Maybe I'll strip you off so everyone can get a close look at what you've got tucked away.'



'No,' in answer to the ref, although it could have been just as well an answer to KayCee's threat.



'Some say you've actually got a set of balls.'



Diana began to struggle furiously, desperate to release herself, but only managed to cause herself more pain. Her shoulders were weakening. Even if she lasted until the bell, her shoulders were weaker now, as was her back.



It was at that moment, she caught sight of the time clock on one of screens. The round was only have way gone. It was time to make a decision.

 

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In the end, it was the best thing to do. However much courage it took, it was for the best, in the long run. She was due a fall in the next round. And then a knockout in the eighth. Damn, that would be good, seeing this bitch out for the count and carried from the ring as Diana held her championship belt high in the air to receive the applause of her fans.



'Submit?'



The ref was at her side again.



'Yes,' breathed Diana, barely a whisper.



'What was that?'



Was the ref really so hard of hearing or was he just making her suffer longer – some enjoyed that – they liked the power.



'Yes, I said yes, you faggot. I submit, just get this bitch to put me down.'



The ref raised his hand and signaled to the timekeeper to ring the bell.



'Put her down,' he ordered KayCee over the sound of the bell. But she did not obey. She was enjoying this too much. She pushed her opponent high into the air, held her, lowered her, pushed her again. Then down slowly, before a swift power heave, releasing her at the very top and tossing her to the side.



'ARRRGGHHHHHHHHH – FUCK-K-K-K-K-K' Diana crashed onto the canvas onto her sore back.



And then, the final indignity, a sharp slap on her ass.



BITCH – this fucking bitch would pay for that.

 

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Diana's second rushed over to massage her aching muscles and help her back to her corner.

The crowd was humming. There were as many opinions as there were paying customers.

Back in their corner, the second was applying an ice pack to Diana's back.

Social media was alive with speculation. This was humiliation for the champ. Or just a clever ploy to disarm her opponent. She couldn't come back now, not with so serious an injury. Unless, of course, she was putting it on. This was just a cunning plan to make Diana look good in what was bound to be her last fight.

'Fucking bitch,' Diana spat the words out with the water she had rinsed her mouth with.

'Keep calm,' her second advised, 'don't let her get to you. She is just putting on a good show before you get your fall in the next round. Remember, there is only one ending to this fight, and that is with you lifting that belt aloft.

'She called me a dyke. How dare she do that, how fucking dare she.'

The second, just for a brief moment, wondered if she might actually lose the fight. That would upset the promoter and a lot of bookmakers who would lose huge sums if that were to happen. Not to mention the money men (and a few women) who stood to rake in a fortune if the match went to plan. But no – that could not happen – it did not bear thinking about.

The more thoughtful commentators on the sports channels were analysing what might be happening.

'Folks,' one former female wrestler, now a lingerie model and sometime film star, was being interviewed. 'Folks,' she said, 'there's been a rumour doing the rounds that KayCee was going to lose and transition into a jobber. But the way it looks right now, Diana is the one who looks like she is rehearsing for that role.'

'Are you suggesting-,' the interviewer began, but was interrupted by the bell for the third round.

Diana approached the centre of the ring. She had had a plan for the first fall. It was a chancy move, but she could afford to take the risk with the result a foregone conclusion. But now she was not so sure it was. And she could not afford conceding another fall – that would lost her the match.

These thoughts were still spinning in her brain when KayCee whisked her off her feet and over her shoulders, spinning her around and around until she tossed the champion into the air and onto the top rope.

 

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Diana was stuck, swaying back and forth as KayCee gently swung the rope. All she could hear were the gasps and laughter from the crowd. Despite struggling, she could not shake herself free, try as she might, despite knowing she could injure herself self again as she landed.

Nothing could be worse.

That's what she told herself, until she felt her opponents hand on the waist band of her wrestling trunks.

With one swift tug, they were clear of her buttocks and round her thighs.

Like all wrestlers, Diana wore a thong in case of mishaps or wardrobe malfunctions. So the cameras and the crowd could see not her bare ass, but a thin red back strap between her buttocks.

'What the fuck,' Diana screamed, 'just wrestler fuck you.'

But KayCee was not interested in wrestling, not just yet. She beg to slap her opponents buttocks, like a naughty child. Soon the crowd were clapping along to the rhythm.

 

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Diana fought to stay calm. She knew it was useless to struggle. She was trapped on the ropes and could not escape. Trying to do so would just make her look ridiculous. She was exposed, her buttocks were bare and felt as if they were glowing redder with each slap that landed on them. She had only a thin strip of cotton to cover her asshole and labia. All she could do was to ride this out, with as much dignity as she could muster. KayCee would have to stop eventually. The crowd were enjoying this for the moment, but they would soon get bored. And prolonging her opponent's humiliation would get Diana nowhere. She had to let Diana win. That was the game plan.



Wasn't it?



Surely, the promoter had not double-crossed her and was setting up KayCee as the new champion. Surely, KayCee was not planning to renege on her promise and take the fight. No, that could not be, huge sums of money would be lost and big money losers would not take kindly to that, definitely not, no way.



Then, suddenly, while Diana was trying to work out the permutations of double, double, triple cross and bluffs, the spanking stopped, the top rope shook, and Diana was deposited on the canvas with a thud. KayCee was standing a few steps away, grinning. Diana eyes her warily. Rolling onto her knees to pull up her trunks.



Still cautious, Diana began to rise to her feet, expecting KayCee to launch some kind of attack, probably when she was most vulnerable.



And it came, just as Diana had expected, when she was half way to her feet, still slightly unstable. KayCee's suddenly accelerated into a quick flying drop kick aimed to catch Diana off balance and knock her through the ropes.



But Diana read the move, ducked below it, grabbed her opponent's legs, spun her round and dropped her onto the canvas, lifting her legs and throwing her full weight to fold her in half and crush her shoulders onto the canvas.



Winded, KayCee had barely realised what had happened before the count had reached TWO and had no time to collect herself before the ref had called the fall and Diana was strutting back to her corner.