Part 1:
Heeled, Stiffed and Jobbed Out
John Locke-- Johnny Lockdown to professional wrestling fans-- was a tall, lean and well muscled man. His dark hair was medium length, jagged-looking and seemingly messy, in an organized way. His blue eyes melted female wrestling fans and struck cold fear into everything else, except kids and cats.
He had well defined muscularity, a light but even skin tone and a well maintained five-o’clock shadow, which was a part of his in-ring persona. He had been well trained to charm people and overawe them at the same time and had worked his way to semi-stardom in the World Wrestling Organization.
On this particular evening, one that would not only stand out in John’s memory but the memories of wrestling fans everywhere. He had arrived to the show’s venue early, which was not his intention. He preferred to arrive around the same time as the other wrestlers. Only the tech crew and jobbers had arrived to set up the ring and prepare for the night’s event.
John remembered those days, but as a WWO marquis player he distanced himself from the grunt work, putting the ring together and hanging the lights on the high rafters. Then taking all of that shit down about four hours later. John had done his share. His dues had been paid.
Before he could think of finding a place to sleep for the night, Emily, one of the better-liked groupies had cornered him in the employee’s only corridors. She was a clean and sweet nineteen-year-old who adored the pro wrestling world.
She followed the organization from city to city, often by staying with one of the many pro wrestlers she had sex with. They were only too happy to put up with her, since she was only too happy to put out for them.
Emily dressed scantily, in a denim mini-skirt and a thin cotton halter top with “WWO Hardcore” printed across the front and a “Backstage Pass” sticker pressed onto it. As soon as she was close enough she threw her arms around John and began kissing him hungrily.
“I missed you in Chicago Johnny,” she said. “Let’s play some catch-up!”
She kissed his cheeks, his neck and when she tried for his lips he turned away. Under normal circumstances he would have pushed her skirt up around her waist, slid his cock inside her and fuck her through the wall at that moment, but he had to pass.
The owner of WWO, Vic Bass wanted to push his Johnny Lockdown character, and developed a storyline where the top female pro wrestler, Rita, would become his manager/girlfriend. Her popularity gave her temporary, but tremendous influence over her own storylines. Rita loathed groupies.
Vic Bass was certain that with Rita as his manager and love-interest they would both get over and make the multi-billion dollar organization richer still. He recognized that when they appeared together their chemistry was very real beneath the surface, and the audience was expecting them to hook up. Rita and John were flirting off camera also. Their rapport and attraction for each other was clear and incontrovertible. Vic Bass knew what he was doing.
The hitch was Rita insisted that if she were to bolster his image, he would have to promise not to consort with ring rats, the pro wrestling cognomen for groupies. She was such a ratings-winner that Vic would let her call her own shots, within reason, and did not think Rita’s standards unreasonable.
“I can’t,” he told Emily gently pushing her off of him.
“She isn’t here yet, you know.” Emily retorted, fully aware of the situation.
“It’s too important Emily. I can’t.”
Emily stepped away dejected and said “What the fuck is she to you?”
“My manager.” He answered.
“Ray’s manager, you mean!”
“Not after tonight.”
Emily could not help but remind him; Rita still belonged to his on-air rival, Ray Mallard. Backstage their relationship included weed, beers, and poker games-- in front of the cameras and spectators Mallard and Lockdown had been trading blows in the ring and trash-talk on the mic to build up a feud which would climax in the main event that evening.
The current angle was that Johnny worked his charm on Rita and was a hair away from stealing her from Mallard. In the last event Johnny seduced Rita into kissing him just in time for Mallard to walk in on them and start a brawl. It caused John to tweak his shoulder and miss a show in Chicago.
Rita had a private meeting, on camera, with Vic Bass and suggested a match where she would sign with the winner. In the “interest of honor” Vic set up the match. Of course, everybody knew that Rita had her mind made up. The whole pro wrestling world knew John was going to win.
Emily fumed. “This ‘Rita’ angle isn’t going to last! When it’s over don’t look for me backstage!”
“You shouldn’t be backstage!” Rita said belligerently as she rounded the corner. John and Emily jumped.
“Blow the Event Staff and stay the fuck out of here!” she added.
John wondered how long Rita was eavesdropping around the corner. He could not help but notice how good she looked.
The three-time WWO Female Champion Rita was an athletically built high-flyer. Unafraid of somersaults from the top rope, taking power-bombs through tables and dishing out bumps as good as she took them against male fighters. A former Judo champion, she had sharp grappling skills and was the most popular WWO Girl on the roster, but only partially for fighting prowess.
She was as sexy as she was aggressive, and as ruthless as she was sexy. Her svelte body had the muscle tone of a lioness; her breasts were full and genuine. Her hazel eyes, smooth tanned skin and sumptuous curves were captivating.
“Fuck you, Rita!” Emily fired back nervously. “I’ll go wherever the fuck I want. You can run Johnny, but you can’t run me! Don’t even talk to me!”
“I don’t talk to trash, bitch! I take it out!” Rita growled marching straight into Emily’s face. She threw her Kenneth Cole black leather duffel bag to the floor and shoved Emily roughly. “Fuck off, I said!”
The young groupie stumbled backwards. John stepped between them, but could not help but imagine Emily licking Rita’s wet clit, and Rita sucking his cock-- feeling her warm tongue on his shaft.
Rita’s grey velour warm-up suit brought out her angry hazel eyes. Her long amber hair was tied and even without makeup, her face was smooth and tan. He looked at her red lips and imagined them swallowing his dick. He wanted to feel it in her pussy, buried as deep as it could go.
Emily retreated quickly down the hall cursing at Rita and promising payback. When she was good and gone, Rita’s expression softened. She stood on her tip toes and causally kissed John on the cheek. He felt movement in his pants.
“You have fleas, Johnny.” She said pointing her thumb in the direction Emily had fled. “Too bad you missed Chicago. We were supposed to take our little romance to second base.”
Rita smiled slyly and took John’s arm. John walked with her.
“And then what?” He asked.
“Then Ray was supposed to catch us making out. I push you off and act like you were forcing yourself on me. You two throw down. I was supposed to yell at you both to stop, and a gang of referees pull you two off of each other.”
“Sorry I missed that.”
