The Midas Touch, Episode 10: Trick or Treat

[SuckerPunch]

Theme

(Start at 1:21 for replays)

The sudden pounding of music brought with it lights that flared in time with the beat. The song was instantly recognizable. Music that had become synonymous with the League's Self-proclaimed Ace! Every pump of bass brought on another flicker of gold stage lighting. And with it another brief vision of the Venomous Vixen herself!

And when the beat dropped, the gold-toned lights flared fully to life! Gold confetti rained ceremoniously down from the ceiling. It refracted the light in a dazzling display of gaudy gold. And at the top of the stage stood the Lightweight Champion!

Spoiler

Rose Gold once again stood at the top of the ramp... Radiant. Her trademark golden hair was tipped with brilliant pink. Her lips were painted as black as her intentions, highlighting her alabaster skin and the soft blush upon her cheeks. Her eyes were swept with black liner, angular and sharp. It made her honey-gold orbs glitter, 24kt.

A spade shaped hairband made of her namesake, rose gold, pulled her hair back and exposed her face. Her attire was more complex. Sleeves and Leggings were both speckled with shiny rose gold highlights. A collared top with a window that exposed the valley between her firm, perky breasts. Like her hairband, this too was cut to the shape of a spade, though this one was inverted. Both symbolic of her status as Ace.

Her bottoms were practically lingerie. Barely there at all. So high-cut were they that the muscles of her kissable inner thigh were bare to the world. A centimeter or two from indecency. The back was cut like a thong, allowing her round, athletic backside to bounce with every step she took. Every aspect of her femininity was accentuated. One look at her was enough to make even the most vigilant of opponent feel their heart beat hasten.

And lastly, she carried the symbol of her reign. The crown that made her Queen. The Lightweight Title. It hung over her shoulder, clutched by one hand. It's face was showing, her name embroidered prominently upon it.
--

The LAW Arena was dressed differently on this special night. The Halloween edition of the show brought with it a number of spooky decorative flourishes. From the spider webs that decorated the ramp to the bats and ghosts that were added to the home broadcast via unconvincing digital effects.

Perhaps the most notable difference came in the form of the audience. Cosplay wasn't only allowed, but encouraged. Weapons and masks were, of course, confiscated at the door, but barring that, everything was fair game. The audience was packed with sexy nurses, sexy nuns, sexy zombies, and (at least according to herself) less sexy Rose Golds. She was far from the only wrestler with representation. In fact, she was far outnumbered by sexy vampires and sexy maids. But somehow, she only seemed to notice her own tributaries.

She marched towards the ring with a microphone in her other hand. It was brought to her painted lips with a wry smirk. She mounted the apron and slipped into the ring. With a flourish she turned to face the ramp and her expression then curled into a dark smile as she put her lithe, sensual body on display for the audience.

She brought the microphone to her lips. "LAW!" She demanded attention! "Welcome your ACE!" She threw the hand that held the title skyward and allowed the lights to shine upon it! They were orange tonight. Spooooky.

"I'm sure some of you expected to see me in some ridiculous costume. I'd expect nothing less of you slavering mongrels." She chirped the insult into the microphone as if it was a compliment. The crowd erupted. Degenerates...

"I can understand the appeal for you sub-humans. This is the one night of the year you get to pretend to be something better than yourself. But for a woman like me; your Queen. Your goddess. Your... ACE! There is nothing -better-!" She grinned wide as she flourished. A pose that allowed the world to take her in. Her deceptively angelic face. Her pert, perky breasts. Her flat, athletic tummy. The curve of her full hips. Even her exposed inner thighs.

"I am what you sub-humans -pretend- to be!" She continued without a hint of shame.

"Speaking of pretenders." Her lips curled into a wry, serpentine smirk. "Please, welcome tonight's guest. Brooke Betancourt, come and receive The Midas Touch!"

[FreestylePoet]

Brooke hadn't been a part of LAW for very long yet, but even in her short time here, she'd gotten the lay of the land. More specifically, she'd gotten a sense of who her "coworkers" were. LAW was home to no small number of women who were beautiful and deadly in equal spades. Above them all, though, was Rose Gold -- her opponent for the evening. As she stood at the mouth of the entrance ramp, Brooke couldn't help but let her eyes rove over Rose Gold's barely-covered form. Her meticulously-crafted curves earned through proud victories and displayed just as proudly. Her venomous gaze, simultaneously daring Brooke forward and seeking to scare her away.

Even from this distance, anybody who cared to notice could plainly see just how enticing all that was to Brooke. Beautiful women had always been a passion of Brooke's, and as threatening an aura as Rose Gold presented, she was no exception. Everything about the Lightweight Champion promised nothing but more, in all its hedonistic glory: More fighting, more fucking, more fame, more fortune. As a backstage assistant waved her on, Brooke couldn't help but wonder whether that promise of more was meant for her or for Rose Gold herself.

... But her entrance music didn't play. Instead, a picture of Brooke herself appeared on the big screen -- no, it was a video. A video... of an old interview she'd given? She recognized the outfit as one from her earlier shoots, back when she was just starting out.

"Well, gosh, I've only been modeling for Babes and Ballistics for about a month now, but it's so much fun!" Brooke cringed at hearing her own voice, as back then, she felt the need to ham up her Texan accent for the cameras. To put forward an inauthentic version of herself, just to satisfy the whims of selfish producers. This definitely wasn't her normal intro, and it wasn't something that her manager Christina would have set up... How did this make its way onto the Titantron?

"Yeah! Of course I'm excited for the big industry show in Houston! I'm looking forward to seeing the sights." Suddenly, the screen shifted to an interview she'd given around a year into her former career. At that point, she'd already lost her appetite for meeting others' expectations. The industry's effects on her were blatantly obvious by now. Her eyes weren't as bright as in the first clip, and her accent was now at its natural, light level. It was painfully obvious by now that this wasn't an accident; this was designed.

"I'm... leaving the industry. I just feel like I need to find my own way, figure myself out, y'know?" And now a press conference, specifically the one where she announced her retirement. Her accent was totally gone by now, long since hidden beneath layers of spite and ambition. As tired as she'd looked on screen, she also seemed weirdly... hopeful. Was this Rose Gold's doing? Why would she want to draw attention to how Brooke got here?

"And for all you LAW fans out there that don't know me yet: Expect to be hearing from me real soon! The Downrange Diva's got it all in her sights!" This last clip was the most recent, having been filmed about a month ago, before even her debut. She was wearing her exercise clothes, fresh from a training session at Team Stanza's private gym. Her demeanor was chipper and optimistic, more than it had been in a while. But the use of her moniker in the video made it all suddenly click for Brooke.

"... Pretender." She mouthed the epithet, almost imperceptibly, remembering how derisively Rose Gold had used it earlier. Despite herself, her teeth ground themselves together as she started to march towards the ring. Her eyes flickered with the same embers of defiance that glowed in some of the later interviews. That expression was a sharp contrast to her rather festive appearance: A lingerie set designed to look like a black cat. In any other context, it would have been considered equal parts cute and sexy, but right now, all Brooke could hope for was that it would bring her opponent tonight some bad luck.

Brooke Betancourt, the Downrange Diva

"What's your game with this, Rose Gold? I'm not going to be intimidated by you. I'm just as 'real' a wrestler as anyone here, and if you don't believe me..." She hopped up onto the apron and quickly swung below the ropes, fixing Rose Gold with as hardened a stare as she could muster.

"I'll show you."

[SuckerPunch]

"That's enough!" Rose's voice echoed over the end of Brooke's video. A call to the production crew to cut it off at just the tip of Brooke's pre-recorded declaration. Rose wasn't willing to share the spotlight, even in a segment she had designed.

And the selection of clips left no room for interpretation. She had, in fact, designed it. They were handpicked to show Brooke's bright-eyed, but misleading introduction to her past industry. Her disillusionment and fall from grace. And then the exact same energy for her arrival in LAW. It was unsubtle. A blow to Brooke's morale and identity before she'd even brought the microphone to her own lips. Sowing seeds of doubt deep into her heart to make her spirit brittle. Breakable.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath after Brooke spoke. The way a teacher might do after an interaction with the class clown. She brought the microphone up to her lips before opening those honeyed amber orbs, and spoke.

"Thank you for joining me on The Midas Touch." She opened her eyes then, casting a look upon the woman that would make her feel seen. More exposed than if she was wearing nothing at all, which, wasn't too far from the truth. "My game? I think you've misunderstood me. But worry not, I'm not insulted. I'm aware that models tend to require explanations for even the simplest things." Her voice was saccharine sweet, even as she used it to cut the other woman. Incense her.

"Don't you all love her costume by the way. It's almost convincing. And she even cut a cute little promo! Isn't she precious?" She turned her back to Brooke to appeal to the audience, speaking around Brooke rather than to her. Degrading her in front of the live audience, in the arena and at home. When she was done she turned back to Brooke and gave her a knowing and wry smirk. She doubted it'd take much more to trap her.

"The game, as you put it. Is Professional Wrestling. And I'm the Queen, the Goddess, the ACE! of this league!" She lofted her title on high, provoking another cheap pop from the audience. Boos and cheers rained down upon them in an oppressive wall of sound. A show of power.

"And as such, I have a responsibility to this Lightweight Division. To make it stronger! To ensure that it is shared by the best and brightest. I'm here, Brooke, to help you realize your potential! To offer you an opportunity to be more than just a two page spread sullied by some rednecks seed. To share the ring with the most important woman in this business! I'm not here to hurt you, Brooke Betancourt. I'm here to make you shine!" She stepped towards the other woman. She stopped just shy of touching her. She was close enough that Brooke could smell the strawberry of her lip gloss.

"I'm here to offer you a chance none of the men who've run your life ever have. Management here would have you rolling around in mud, or pillow fighting, because that's all they think a lingerie model like you is good for. Instead, I offer you a Submission Match. Winner take all." She held the belt up then, dangling it in both of their peripherals. "A title shot. A chance at the throne. An opportunity to show the world that you're -more- than a centerfold. An opportunity -noone- in this world, other than me, thinks you deserve!" Her final sentence was hissed out through clenched teeth. It was different from the rest of the words. There was soul in it. Self-reflection. A malicious empathy that was easy to confuse for compassion and kinship.

[FreestylePoet]

Brooke's molars gnashed together, the grinding of her teeth shifting from one side to the other as if she were chewing on Rose Gold's words. Whenever she thought she might get a word in edgewise, Rose would launch into another tirade or flourish to the crowd. Brooke opened her mouth, hoping to respond. But again she was cut off by the sound of Rose Gold approaching her.

And despite herself, Brooke looked, because she always looked.

Her eyes couldn't keep the champion's honey gold gaze for long, a reaction that most would write off as sheer nerves. But a more trained eye would find a whole story in the margins of Brooke's tic: Her eyes chose to stay on Rose Gold, even if Brooke couldn't quite meet her stare. Her lungs hitched with a caught breath as she took in the sights of the blonde's curves, her attention lingering a bit where Rose's outfit hugged her chest. Her bronzed skin flushed with a slight pink that could be easily confused for outrage. Subtle signs of a subconscious attraction, overpowering the sheer disdain that Brooke felt in this moment. Imperceptible to most, but likely as noticeable to Rose Gold as blood in the water to a shark. Brooke cursed herself for always being weak to a pretty face, even if for just a fleeting moment.

"I..." When she finally got a chance to retort, to say something to stand up for herself, Brooke found herself at a loss for words. How could she fire back when everything that Rose Gold was saying... just felt right? She'd heard it all before, thought it all before. From the fate of her old magazine covers to the match types that LAW management had initially offered her to the fact that, even now, she felt like just another girl playing dress-up on Halloween. It was an trap laid across two fronts: Rose saw right through her, even as she displayed herself so that Brooke could see whatever she wanted.

But at the end of the day, Rose was just like everyone she'd left modeling to escape, beauty and body be damned. Brooke knew the champion's reputation. She'd built her entire career up by tearing others down. All she was missing was a tie around her neck and a pair of balls between her legs. Brooke closed her eyes. When she opened them, it wasn't Rose Gold in front of her anymore. It was her whole career, and she was going to step forward and take it.

"Y'know, for someone who hates models so much -- and I get it, I really do -- you sure do like to preen in front of the camera." Very few wrestlers in this league, she imagined, would ever dare to insult the Lightweight Champion to her face, and even fewer got away with it. Brooke wasn't delusional, though; she didn't have any ideas in her head that she might "get away with it." In fact, she'd probably lose horribly. But like a day-one inmate stepping up to the biggest guy in the yard, she wanted to use this next half-hour or so to show that she was for real in this league.

She needed to show that she was for real in this league.

"But I accept. Bend me however you want. I won't break." The seriousness of her words must have sounded odd given her reedy voice, but she needed to be serious -- not only for Rose or for the crowd, but for her own self-confidence. "Not to a bully like you."

[SuckerPunch]

Rose Gold watched as her words penetrated the model. She watched the uncertainty swim over her features. She was likely used to the fans and the bright lights. But this ring was different from the modeling world. It wasn't about your agent. Or who you knew.

At the end of the day, the checks you wrote with your charisma, were cashed with your lifespan. Every bump took a portion of your future. Some longer than others. And for Brooke, a woman who'd only barely made it to the present... The weight must have been terrible.

At least, that was Rose thought. Until she noticed the girl struggling under a second and different kind of weight entirely. It put a smirk on her lips, even as the woman stammered. She didn't need words. Her body language had already told her everything she needed to know. Tonight's meal was going to be... Decadent. She just needed to come to the table!

"Go on, you can do it." She encouraged her. Pushing her forward in her moment of thought. She needed to hear the words... She needed her to sign the accord.

But when Brooke did finally speak, her words caused Rose Gold's smirk to transform into an irritated snarl. A flashing of her canines. A brief break in her facade that was accompanied by a balling of her fist. Her knuckles turned white. And then softened as Brooke accepted.

She didn't wait for the rest of the statement. She lashed out with her right hand, slapping the microphone out of Brooke's grip. Her eyes caught Brooke's, as they had since she'd entered the ring. And three words were written clearly in her expression. "How. Dare. You."

The look and the slap, both of them, were misdirects. A double-dose of stimulation to pull her attention away from Rose Gold's true focus was. The toe of her boot driving itself directly between the line of her thighs! Crashing into her sensitive, vulnerable; and judging by the temperature of her blush, aroused lingerie-veiled cunt.

"Ring the bell!" She demanded, whether Brooke was wise to the low blow or not!

[FreestylePoet]

Brooke allowed her lips to curl into a slight, smug grin, the first embers of rebellion starting to fully catch within her heart. The job wasn't done yet, though -- far from it. She'd told Rose Gold that she meant business. Declared her intentions to the rest of the LAW universe. But she still had to show them that she could walk that walk. Neither Rose's glare nor her strike at the microphone took Brooke's eyes off of that all-important goal. But what came next-

"HYEEEEHHHHH!" -forced a grotesque squeal from Brooke's lungs! A sudden pain stabbed up from that sensitive spot between her legs all the way to her core. Rose's toe lingered crushingly against her crotch for one second... two seconds... three. Three long seconds filled with nothing but a whine from Brooke, a distant ring of a bell, and a ruckus from the crowd. Tears prickled at Brooke's eyes like splinters. A curtain was drawn around her early show of defiance, a mere warm-up act for whatever the Lightweight Champion had in store for tonight. And the Downrange Diva crumpled to her knees, a puppet cut from her strings.

But to be a puppet was to be controlled, wasn't it? To have so little agency over her own life that she could only be mentioned in the same breath as whatever master stood behind her. Those strings, those chains represented exactly what Brooke had come here to shrug off. She was done being the compliant girl who just smiled and nodded along at whatever empty promises were made to her. Done being the one to always grin and bear it. Done being a centerfold or a billboard or, God forbid, a puppet. Her strings were in her own hands now. And Rose Gold's low blow was the one little pluck she needed to pop them free altogether.

What better way to show that than with an homage to the woman who had made it all possible? A spinoff more than a true encore, given that Brooke still didn't have it in her to rise to her feet. A second verse, a reprise, a throwback, even if to just a few seconds ago.

"Back at ya, bitch!"

A wild, flailing uppercut right to Rose Gold's own barely-covered groin!

[SuckerPunch]

Rose Gold's only regret at the time was the thickness of her boot. The rubber sole made it impossible to truly feel the other woman's plump lower lips as they were crushed against her pubic bone. But she could still taste the delicious agony of the othef girl's wails.

"Mmmn. That's better. You look good on your knees honey. I can tell you practice!" She grinned as stepped forward, pressing herself against Brooke's head. A hand entangled itself in her hair and gave it a firm jerk, forcing her to press her nose against her mons.

She shuddered and closed her eyes as she basked in the sensation of her whimpering against her body. It wasn't quite against her sex, but just above it. Penetrating into her womb.

"Nnn tonight is going to be- BEUGH!" Her self-celebratory statement was cut off as Brooke's knuckles buried themselves within her folds!

Her vision went white and her ears rang. She had left herself defenseless in her arrogance. And now she felt the same thing Brooke had. A terrible rippling pain that went all the way up her spine!

It cut the light from her eyes and the strength from her legs! They bowed inwards, before collapsing. Bringing her to her knees in front of Brooke! Her mouth hung agape in shock as saliva ran down one corner. Unable to support herself, she fell forward, leaning forehead to forehead with Brooke.

The pain took her breath hostage, forcing her to gag on her dismay! Her lips trembling inches from Brooke's.

"Y-you'll p-pay!!" She stammered out through the mind numbing fog the throbbing in her pussy had created.

[FreestylePoet]

To be fair, even Brooke herself was surprised at her low blow. Generally, she was a nice girl, if a little spunky. Punching someone in the crotch was beyond out of character for her. But in hindsight, she had two good reasons for doing what she did. First: She wasn't a character anymore. Not a modernized Southern belle, not a bedroom wrestling lightweight. Just Brooke Betancourt.

Second: Rose Gold was a bitch.

This wasn't the way Brooke normally ended up buried knuckle-deep inside another woman, but the situation certainly called for it. When in Rome and all that. And make no mistake, she was still very much in Rome. Despite how Rose was crumpled on the mat and forehead-to-forehead with Brooke, the pair of them looking more like lovers than opponents, the Downrange Diva wasn't anywhere close to safe. As new as she was to LAW, she'd learned early on that even a grounded opponent was dangerous. And none more so than the Lightweight Champ.

When in Rome.

"I'm sure I will..." she whispered at Rose, her breath ghosting over her rival's lips. "But for now? Might as well get my money's worth." With one hand still positioned at Rose's crotch, Brooke flared three fingers out. She hooked them upwards, hoping to savagely claw both her digits and Rose Gold's uniform right into the Champion's core!

[SuckerPunch]

Her ears rang and her hips thrummed with a dull ache from the impact between them. She'd been arrogant in believing her hand-picked opponent would be weakened by a single low blow. She'd assumed the woman had never truly been struck and that she would shatter like a mirror. Instead, her glass was tempered.

"Ngh!" She grit her teeth and growled, her nose exhaling hot breath on Brooke's face as she had the gall to whisper to her. To talk back. Her fists balled and her temper flared. Enraged, she became engrossed in how she was going to punish the other woman as soon as the muscles in her thighs stopped spasming!

"You wouldn't-!" Her face contorted into a twisted mask of pain. A soft sound of shock forced its way out of her lips the moment she felt Brooke's fingers dig into the meat of her pussy. Her attire separated them, but served only to lightly pad her already sensitive and brutalized sex. And when she raked them across her plump slit she screamed!

"NYOOOOH~ G-GOD!" It was a shrieking howl that came from her upper lips as Brooke pulled her nails across her lower lips! She felt her precious and sought-after labia erupt in narrow lines of fire in the wake of Brooke's fingers! Her back arched as Brooke's middle finger spread her open and grazed her entrance and passed over a hardened bud at the top, making her vision go white!

She fell backwards, jettisoned by her reflexively activated legs as her hands shot to cover her black fabric-covered privates. She held herself and rolled back and forth as tears crept out of the corner of her eyes. She sobbed quietly as she pawed at the burning between her legs.

She was going to break her! She was going to make her pay! Those thoughts repeated in mind, but did little to soothe her agony.

[FreestylePoet]

"Ouch, that looked like it hurt! You okay down there, Champ?" Brooke allowed herself a self-satisfied sigh as she knelt before Rose Gold. She was still rubbing her crotch, soothing the last dregs of pain away. It must have looked like she was touching herself in glee at her pain-wracked opponent. Really, that wasn't too far from the truth. While Rose's brutal low blow had ensured that she wouldn't be very aroused any time soon, Brooke had already accomplished far more than she thought herself capable of.

In the opening moments of their match, Brooke had matched the Lightweight Champion word for word, dirty blow for dirty blow. She'd dipped her fingers into Rose's most prized and private asset, something very few of the women in LAW could say they'd done of their own volition. More than evening the score after taking a punt between the legs. It was as clear a signal as any that she had enough guts to get along in this league, no matter how the rest of the match went.

But Brooke wasn't just here to show that she could stand here. She wanted to show that she could succeed here. And while Rose was the perfect canvas, painting that picture was going to be another battle entirely. On the mats, the Lightweight Champ was dangerous in about a thousand different ways. Half by pain and half by pleasure. But that was the trap of a submission match. The road to victory led right through the mouth of the lion.

"No? How about I give you something else to focus on, then?" Brooke sat out, hooking her legs towards one of Rose's thrashing ones. If allowed to lock her legs into a figure-four, the Downrange Diva would start to apply as much torque as she could to Rose's knee. An amateurish, impromptu kneebar, but a kneebar nonetheless!

For reference, but with Rose on her back