Sheila Morgan vs. Kenzie Kraze II - Pleasure in the Pain

[DropKix]

The screech of plastic colliding with flesh and the hollow thud of the food tray hitting its mark echoed through the backstage area, a savage cadence punctuating Kenzie's shrill cackles. Each swing was fueled by manic glee, each impact feeding her frenzied sense of domination as she unloaded her wrath on Sheila. But as frantic as they wre, Kenzie's attack was far more delirious then it was debilitating. Kenzie felt a sudden grounding force as Sheila’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Her wild swings faltered, her manic grin flickering into something more uncertain as her feet left the floor, her food-clad frame hauled skyward. There was a heart-stopping moment of suspension before gravity came crashing down, quite literally.

Pain, sharp and explosive, tore up her spine as Sheila’s knee drove into the base of Kenzie’s tailbone with devastating force. A strangled cry tore from her lips, her body jolting forward on reflex. Her head snapped back, her pastel locks whipping through the air as her face contorted in a grotesque blend of pain and disbelief. Kenzie staggered forward, her legs trembling, hips swaying unsteadily in an involuntary motion that bordered on unsettling—her petite frame caught in an erratic, desperate rhythm of movement as she tried to reclaim her footing.

For once in this hellish debacle, her tongue failed her. Her breath came in desperate, stuttering gasps, each inhale sharp and ragged. Her vivid locks, streaked with remnants of food and sauce, whipped around her face as she staggered forward, her movements as unsteady as her footing. But even as pain threatened to overwhelm her, the fire in her wild eyes refused to dim. She stumbled into a nearby rolling equipment case stacked high with spare wires, microphones, and other heavy props, her hands slamming down on its edge to steady herself. Her pale fingers, smeared with ranch dressing and tinged with desperation, tightened their grip as a new spark of mischief ignited behind her crooked grin.

"Nice shot, Sheils! I think you dislocated my spine, lemme check... Eh nope, I'm still walking bitch!" Kenzie hissed, her voice rasping with a blend of mockery and malice. "Too bad you hit like a... what was that you called me? A drongo? Yeah, that!"

Kenzie pivoted with surprising speed, her boots skidding slightly on the scattered debris of the catering table. With a frenzied cackle, she charged forward, shoving the wheeled case with all her might, sending it careening toward Sheila. The metal sides rattled violently, the impact potential clear in every bone-shaking inch it covered. Kenzie sprinted behind it, her manic energy unrelenting, clearly intending to use the moment to ram into her opponent and sandwich Sheila against the wall!

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila didn’t often use ‘power moves’ when she wrestled, preferring to stick with the brawling style that suited her best. While she knew a few, the sad fact was that about 90% of the roster was too big for her to be lifting up. She was strong for her size, but that didn’t say too much, really, and there was no sense in picking up an opponent and breaking her back when a couple of good shots to the face would have the same - or better - effect.

Lucky her, then, that she and Kenzei were practically body doubles, close enough that they could swapped clothes if she’d wanted to - not that she would ever want to wear that crazy goth shit, but the option was there. It allowed her to dig deeper into her bag than she typically would’ve, and she would be so again before this night was through.

The Atomic Drop brought Kenzie down hard, and Sheila could feel the impact through her knee - that one hurt her, big time. She pushed her way up and laughed at Kenzie's expense as she stumbled away. ”What’s wrong?” She snickered and wiped her eyes clear. ”Figured you’d like taking one up the ass.”

Sheila moved in, looking to close the gap before Kenzie had a chance to retaliate, but she only realized that window had closed when her opponent spun about and came rushing at her with the cart. With her body still feeling the effects of the earlier beating, she wasn’t fast enough by half to avoid it - the crate slammed into her hips, pushed her back hard, and sent her crashing into the drywall behind her, hitting it hard enough to leave cracks all around her and getting a startled shriek from whoever was on the other side.

It hurt, but that wasn’t the most distressing thing: Sheila was pinned, couldn't move, and that was a really bad thing with someone like Kenzie. Knowing her time was short and her opportunities were scant, Sheila reached out and tried to grab her foe by the hair again, hoping to get a grip and slam her face against the crate for a moment’s respite.

[DropKix]

Kenzie stood amid the chaos she’d conjured, a tempest of frayed wires, dented steel, and splintered drywall swirling around her. Her lips curled into a Cheshire grin, teeth bared in unrestrained delight, as she loomed over her prey with a predatory glint in her eyes. Suddenly Sheila’s strength surged, attempting to slam her skull into the cart!

With a crazed, guttural snarl, Kenzie’s hand shot up with serpentine speed, clamping onto Sheila’s wrist mid-air as her fingernails dug into her skin. "Oi, oi, oi! Hands off the merchandise, you crusty bogan!" she mused in a mock Aussie accent, her voice both manic and malicious. She pushed forward with her entire body weight, slamming the cart even deeper into Sheila’s abdomen, forcing a strained grunt from her rival’s lips. Kenzie’s grin widened maniacally, her breath hot against Sheila’s cheek as she leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart.

"Ooooh, I see why ya brought us back here now. You wanted me to buttfuck you somewhere a little more private, was that it? Well TOO LATE SHEILA! That ship has loooong since sailed. No more juicy puss-puss for you, well not until you've learned your lesson that is, which should be right about... NOW!"

With a savage burst of energy, Kenzie yanked Sheila forward, reversing the attacking slamming her face down onto the dented surface of the cart, leaving Sheila’s body crumpled momentarily, sprawled over the cart like discarded refuse. "Oh, don’t go all limp on me now, Sheils! The fun’s just gettin’ started!" Kenzie didn’t let up for a moment, She tugged Sheila’s dazed body fully onto the cart, her slender arms deceptively strong as she positioned her rival ontop like a ragdoll. The camera crew scrambled to keep up, their lenses capturing every moment of Kenzie’s madness as she wheeled the cart past the gorilla position doors and deeper into the backstage labyrinth.

Kenzie’s boots clattered against the concrete as she picked up speed, her cackles echoing like the cries of a deranged banshee. "All aboard the Krazy Train!" she hollered, throwing her head back in manic delight as the cart hurtled forward with Sheila splayed helplessly on top. Ahead, a hapless group of backstage crew members stood frozen in wide-eyed terror, their arms laden with cables and sound equipment. "Outta the way, nerds! Freight train comin’ through!" Kenzie screeched, giving the cart one final, violent shove. The wheels screeched against the concrete as it careened toward its unwitting targets!

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, god. Of all the terrible things Kenzie had ever done, all the lewd and lascivious acts, butchering her accent had to be the absolute worst. Sheila swore there was no worse sound in all the world than an American trying to mimic and Australian. Perhaps she should’ve counted her blessings - at least the woman didn’t make a ‘Shrimp On The Barbie’ joke. ”You sound like a shite tourist.”

A more-than-fair assessment in Sheila’s experience, though it didn’t seem like Kenzie agreed, as she responded by hammering her up against the wall again, even harder this time, summoning more of her psycho strength. Sheila gritted and groaned as she was ground against the wall, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

She feebly tried to push her way out as Kenzei spoke frenzied words into her ear, whispering her way like a serpent, and all her efforts got her was more beatings - her face was slammed into the crate, hard, hitting with a sickening thud that even made the nearby cameraman wince. Didn’t stop him from getting a better angle on the action.

The move left Sheila dizzied and dazed, and by the time she recovered all of her senses, she was already in motion. She lifted her head up just in time to see that she was careering forward, headless and heedless, barreling towards a group of unsuspecting passerbys who’d pick the exact worst moment to pass by.

”Ah, fuck-”

It was like a bowling ball hitting the pins. Only with six people into of the usual ten. And the pins were carrying a bunch of stuff. And instead of getting blown away, they all collapsed together and created an amorphous mass of wires, human flesh, and suffering, one with her on the bottom, struggling to push her way up. Sucked for them, all of them, but Sheila knew she didn't have time to languish. Kenzie would be hot on her heels, and she only had moments to do something about that.

As always, she did the best she could with what was at hand. In this case, that was a bunch of wires. As she worked her way back up to her knees, she waited for Kenzie to close in and lashed out, swinging one of the cables at her opponent’s face like a whip, trying to slash her with the prongs.

[DropKix]

Kenzie was out of breath. Not because she’d been struck, nor because dragging her 120-pound plaything across the backstage had worn her down. No, she was out of breath because she was wheezing, howling, laughing—a cacophony of unhinged delight that echoed through the backstage corridors. Her head tipped back, pastel hair shimmering in the fluorescent lights as her shrill cackling mingled with the groans of the downed crew members.

"Blimey, what a bloody mess!" she sneered, Sheila's obvious frustration with her mockery only spurring Kenzie to abuse the accent further. She twirled a lock of pastel hair around her finger as she casually kicked aside the limp bodies of stagehands, treating them with all the regard of discarded trash. Her wide, toothy grin stretched even further as her gaze swept the wreckage, finally landing on Sheila, tangled in the pile of humanity like a hapless insect in a web.

"And there you are, my little kangaroo roadkill! Feeling a bit tied up, are we?"” Her tongue clicked against her teeth as she crouched low, her pupils blown wide with manic glee. "Don’t tell me a few pesky cords are enough to snuff out that big, bad brawlin’ ego of yours! C'mon, get up… I said GET UP!"

Kenzie surged forward, predatory and relentless, her hands outstretched like claws ready to seize her prey. But just as she reached the writhing heap, Sheila lashed out, her arm jerking forward in a desperate strike. The cable snapped through the air, the metallic prongs whipping toward Kenzie’s face with a vicious crack. Instinctively, she jerked her head back, but not fast enough. The prongs kissed her cheek, carving a shallow line into her pale skin, leaving a vivid streak of crimson behind. Kenzie froze, her hand lifting to brush the wound, her fingers painting a red smear across her skin. For a heartbeat, her expression was unreadable—then her lips parted, splitting into a monstrous grin that seemed to consume her face. She let out a guttural laugh, low and bubbling, before it erupted into a shrieking crescendo of manic glee.

"Oh, you cheeky little minx!" she hissed, her voice alive with venomous delight. "Babe, you’ve just made this sooo much more interesting!" She licked the blood from the corner of her lips, savoring its metallic tang. "Now the whole damn arena’s gonna get to hear your screams!"

Her eyes snapped to the boom mic clutched in the trembling hands of the sound tech filming the carnage. Without hesitation, Kenzie lunged. "Gimme that!" she barked, her manic intensity enough to make the poor tech recoil as she wrenched the mic free, ripping it from the pole with one swift, forceful tug. She brandished it with both hands as if wielding an execution's axe, heaving it high above her end. Then, with every ounce of her strength, she brought it crashing down toward Sheila, aiming for the back of her neck as though hammering the final nail into a coffin!

[BlackAkuma]

That laugh. That fucking laugh. Sheila swore, she was going to hear that laugh in her nightmare for years to come, long after she was done with Kenzie. It was going to haunt her for the rest of her life, coming to her when she was on the beach or working on her care or eating lunch or any one of a million scenarios, and the day she died and the lights dimmed forever, that stupid laugh would be there to carry her into the abyss.

She supposed in this one instance she should’ve been grateful for it, because if not for Kenzie’s manic cackling, she might not have even known where the bitch was. The backstage area wasn’t all that well lit, and after a hellish crash like that, Sheila’s sense of direction was well and truly fucked. Hearing her noise - along with the absolutely shitty Australian impressive - was a good way for her to center and focus on the bitch, and made what came next a little easier.

She lashed out, swung the cable at her target and hit…sort of. Sheila would’ve loved to hit her foe full on, but she still managed to do some real damage, slashing at her cheek, making the bright red flow on Kenzie’s pale skin. Was that first blood? She honestly wasn’t sure, it felt like her lip might’ve been busted at some point, but she didn’t much care, either way. It was good progress.

Not that it would stop Kenzie, of course. As with most things, the bitch just stopped long enough to appreciate the carnage, then went right back on the attack. Sheila was starting to sense a pattern.

Good thing, then - patterns were predictable. Sure enough, the psycho grabbed the nearest thing she could get her hands on and raised it up, looking to bash Sheila’s head in, probably thinking she was too hurt to move in time. Not a bad assumption, really, given how fucked up she was after that crash. But she was wrong.

Sheila rolled to the side just in time, letting boom mic come down and clobber the poor fucker she’d been lying on. She scrambled up to her feet and went into a dash, and for a moment it would look for all the world like she was trying to run away from Kenzie.

Not even close. She was merely creating space, and as soon as she was far enough away, she spun back and came racing towards Kenzie again, quickly picking up speed. She waited until she was close, then leaped forward, kicked her legs out, and tried to catch her opponent’s head with a three-quarter facelock as she fell, attempting to ram her chin against her shoulder with a Running Stunner - or, as she called it, the Kitchen Sink.

[DropKix]

The thunderous boom that echoed through the backstage area and into the arena speakers wasn’t what Kenzie had envisioned when she swung the boom mic down like a guillotine. Oh, no. The cacophony was there, alright, but instead of the satisfying crunch of Sheila’s skull beneath her swing, she felt the jarring reverberation of impact against something—or someone—else entirely. Her blue eyes darted downward, locking onto the now-slumped and utterly unfortunate crew member who had borne the brunt of her frustration. Blood dripped from her cheek onto the lifeless body below as she straightened, the streaks of crimson adding a new layer of madness to her already disheveled visage. “Oopsie-daisy!” Kenzie cackled, “Look at me rackin' up bodies babe! Sheila, love, you’re next!”

She turned, wild-eyed and jittery, just in time to see Sheila scrambling to her feet and making a break for it. Or so it seemed. Kenzie’s lips curled into a twisted smirk, her sharp canines peeking through like a predator scenting blood. “Where the fuckin ya goin’, hun? Afraid the Big Bad Kraze is gonna face-fuck you again?” she jeered, her voice cracking with glee. Her muscles coiled tight as she prepared to follow, the boom mic tossed haphazardly back to the camera crew, her other hand twitching in anticipation of finding something else to batter Sheila with. She took a single step forward when the sudden blur of movement hit her peripheral vision, snapping her instincts to high alert.

Sheila wasn’t running away. No, she was charging back in, like a goddamn freight train coming to derail Kenzie’s manic momentum. The air around them seemed to hum with kinetic energy as Sheila closed the gap, her figure barreling toward Kenzie with undeniable force. Kenzie’s heart thumped in her chest—not with fear, but with exhilaration. “Thaaaat's right girlie, keep it comin'. C'mon, hit me bitch. hit me - I SAID FUCKING HIT —”

The impact was glorious.

Kenzie barely had time to process the sensation of Sheila’s arm locking around her head in a brutal facelock, the force of the other woman’s momentum driving her backward. Her body followed helplessly, her legs flying out from under her as she was wrenched downward. And then came the impact—the sharp, jolting collision of Sheila’s shoulder smashing into Kenzie’s jaw like the bite of a steel trap. The crack of bone against bone resonated through her skull, her world tilting on its axis as the pain shot through her like electricity. Her body spasmed, the sheer brutality of the Stunner sending her crumpling to the ground in an undignified heap. For a moment, she lay there, twitching and groaning, her cheek pressed against the cold, hard floor.

But the smirk… it didn’t leave her face.

[BlackAkuma]

”Gotcha, bitch!”

There weren’t terribly many moves Sheila could do all that well - she’d never had the patience to really learn the complicated things. Submissions? She could do a decent Boston Crab, that was about it. Suplexes? German and Belly-to-Belly. Maybe a Northern Lights, if she was feeling extra spicy. She kept it simple, and 90% of her offense involved her either punching, kicking, or grabbing a blunt object to bash her opponent’s head. Sometimes, her skull was that blunt object.

But she could do a good fucking stunner. She’d perfected it after her first match in LAW, a weapon she used to surprise the crazy rich bitch she’d gone to war with way back when. She could hit the move from any angle, anytime, anywhere she wanted, so long as she could make a little space, and it paid off for her.

Case. In. Point.

Even through the wall, she could hear the crowd going wild after she nailed it. She rolled off to the side and stopped on her knees, where she could look over and see the fruits of her labor - Kenzie Kraze, flat on her ass, finally shutting the fuck up. Not unconscious, but she was still and unmoving for the first time since she’d met the psycho, a small accomplishment in itself. The referee, who’d been keeping a safe distance from the carnage, moved in like she expected a pinfall.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Sheila wasn’t even sure it would’ve worked if she tried, Kenzie was tough as fuck and didn’t seem to respond to pain like a normal human, but she couldn't have cared less, either way. It wasn’t time to pin her, not just yet. Not when she still had to balance the scale.

She stood up, stepping around the techs as they moved in to help their battered friend, and stumbled her way over to Kenzie’s battered form. Reaching down, she started to grab hold of Kenzie’s pigtails, prepared to drag her along for the little tour she had planned, when a better idea crossed her mind. She’d already yanked her around by the hair a lot, a little passe. But that choker around her neck gave her a few ideas…

Chewing her lip, Shiela stepped to the side and grabbed one of the cables from the techie’s equipment, finding a nice, strong, long one that probably connected to something big. With it in hand, she kneeled by Kenzie’s side, pulled the choker around so the ringlet was at the back of her neck, and looped the cord through it, tying it tight, turning her decoration into a substitute leash.

”Come on, bitch.” Sheila stood up and began walking down the halls, dragging Kenzie along by the neck. ”Let’s take a walk.”

[DropKix]

Kenzie’s body lay sprawled on the floor, a tangled, twitching mess of fading fury. Her head lolled to the side, strands of pink and black hair sticking to the sticky cocktail of blood, sweat, and backstage grime smeared across her face. Her chest rose and fell in labored gasps, each breath accompanied by a manic little giggle that gurgled wetly through the saliva pooling in the corner of her mouth.

She could barely see through the crimson haze and the pounding rhythm of her heartbeat in her ears, but she could feel everything. The ache radiating from her jaw where Sheila’s Stunner had exploded her world into stars. The roughness of the concrete against her skin, scraping her as she tried to shift. And now, the sharp, sudden yank of her pigtails, a familiar and almost comforting sensation amid the whirlwind of violence.

Kenzie’s laughter sparked up again, sharp and shrill, as Sheila’s fingers dug into her hair. "Ooooh, Sheils! Rougher, baby!" Suddenly, the tension released, and Kenzie’s head thudded back to the floor. Her smirk faltered, her glassy eyes rolling upward to track Sheila as the woman stepped away. “Awww what’s the matter, hun? I like it when you play with my hair!” Kenzie sneered, her lips curling into a grin too wide, too feral. She tried to push herself up, her arms trembling beneath her, but the sharp, choking pull of something around her neck cut her short.

Her hands flew to her neck, clawing at the thick cable now looped through the ring of her choker. The rough leather bit into her skin as Sheila yanked hard, dragging her forward like a disobedient dog on a leash. Kenzie’s nails scraped across the floor, leaving jagged streaks in the dust as she writhed and twisted in Sheila’s grasp.

"Oh you’re just full of surprises, Sheils!" Kenzie rasped, her voice strained but still dripping with manic delight. "A leash? A leash? Babe, you're even kinkier than I thought!" She let out a choking cackle, the sound broken but no less hysterical, her body writhing along the concrete floor as she uselessly flailed her legs and dug in her heels. Kenzie’s fingers toyed with the cord, tugging and twisting it against her neck, the skin around her choker deepening to a blotchy shade of pink. Even now, in her battered, humiliating state, there was an unsettling glint in Kenzie’s eyes—a simmering malice, an ember of chaos waiting for the right moment to ignite. Sheila might’ve had the leash for now, but soon or later, she'd show Sheila that a leash meant nothing when you couldn’t tame the beast at the end of it.

[BlackAkuma]

This had to be the craziest thing Dizzy had ever seen.

She hadn't come to the LAW arena for a match, just to get a quick workout in the gym. It was the best time to stop by, in her experience, at least if you wanted to avoid a crowd, since most of the wrestlers were either in matches themselves and getting ready or watching the show at home. Typically, her main purpose at the gym was to find someone to spend the night with, but today she wasn’t about that. Just a quick in and out. That was all she wanted.

She’d been watching the show on and off from the phone towards the end of her workout, and now, fresh out of the shower in the locker room, she could tell that she’d picked a good time to skip out. From the looks of things, the two wrestlers - a crazy Aussie and an even crazier-looking goth chick - were brawling in the backstage area, which was the last thing she wanted to get caught up in.

Not to worry, though; she was almost done and good to go. She’d just finished slipping on her blue jeans and boots, and was fiddling with her bra when she spared another glance at her phone, sitting nearby on the bench. From the looks of things, the two were still going at, and…fuck, the blonde was dragging the goth around by her damn neck. Stuff like that was why Dizzy listened to her mother when she told her to stay away from the hardcore stuff. She didn’t mind some pain - heck, she loved it when done right. But slung around by her throat across the floor? Nope, not her idea of a good time.

…huh. They were coming down one of the hallways, looked like—one of the closer ones from what she could tell. And, wait, was that them she heard outside right now? And-

Dizzy - and the other girls in the locker room, all in varying states of undress - all shrieked at once as the Aussie kicked the door open and came storming inside, her glaring at them all through her sweaty tresses. ”Bitches, out.”

Dizzy did not need to be told twice. She gathered her belongings, shoved her phone in her back pocket, and scampered out of the room lockerroom just as the Aussie was pulling the goth chick up by her hair and laying her out on the bench, face down. You like that shit, huh?” She pulled the cord off of her opponents neck and raised it up high. ”You’ll fucking love this.

Dizzy looked on as the psycho blond brought the cord down and proceeded to whip it across her opponent’s back, laying into her with wild swings and shrieks. Fuck all of that. She quickly put a healthy amount of distance between herself and this snuff film in the making.