What a difference a year can make, right? A year ago, with Wembley Stadium and the All In PPV, All-Elite Wrestling's biggest show ever on the horizon, Dr. Britt Baker, DMD was competing for the Women's World Championship in an all-star 4-way for the ages. Herself, a freshly "Timeless" Toni Storm, Hikaru Shida and, the eventual winner, Saraya, all went to war on the biggest stage possible, with the brightest of lights shining down on what, at the time, could've very easily been considered the biggest match in the history of AEW's women's division.
Now, after nearly a year away recovering from the toughest injury of her career, simply parading through the women's locker room was like night and day for Britt. Just looking out at the sea of bodies, things were almost unrecognizable. Not because she didn't recognize the "new" faces, the sought-after free agents acquired in her absence or, in her eyes, the shiny new toys to try and fail to "replace" The Docta. No, instead, because of how many there were, it made finding the exact person Britt was looking for more difficult than it needed to be. The fanciest, priciest, shiniest new toy of all! "The CEO", Mercedes MonΓ©, fresh off of debuting her new heater Kamille and leaving Britt a battered mess in the ring. Which...was exactly what Dr. Baker was looking to "speak" to Mercedes about.
Look high, look low, but she couldn't find The Money Maker anywhere, finding anyone BUT Mercedes and her brand new top, fresh from the National Wrestling Alliance. Though, Britt DID stumble on a particularly upsetting sight, one that forced her to stop and think about both the past and the present. And in the process, stare, and draw attention from the pair her eyes were glued to. A pair of women whom she shared quite the histories with.
"Look, Baker, I know you're really eager to get your ass fucked but...you're gonna have to wait your turn," Thicc, Italian Goddess Deonna Purrazzo, otherwise known as Britt's long-time good friend, joked, before reaching out and grabbing a handful of hair belonging to the woman whose asshole she was currently ramming her fat, strap-on cock inside, Thunder Rosa.
"Yeah...mmm-chingaaa... Basura Baker, wait your turn! Right now, until I beat this bitch and fuck her ass myself, Deonna is fucking MY culo, so butt out! Β‘Ella estΓ‘ jodiendo mi culo gordo ahora mismo! Si, AYYY-DIOS MIO!!!" Thunder began before, ultimately, getting silenced by a harsh smack to her fat, Mexican culo from The Virtuosa's free hand, the other still locked on those locks, her hips still slamming into Rosa's rear.
"Shut it, a real woman is talking, whore," Purrazzo growled as Britt watched on, a flurry of memories flooding her mind upon seeing Rosa's mistreatment. Memories that skewed both directions, with Britt in Deonna's position, pounding Thunder's cheeks into oblivion, as well as the opposite...Britt bent over for Rosa, getting her own cheeks clapped. And for some reason, the ones where she was bottoming were a bit more present than anything else. Probably because the most recent of these happenings was exactly that, Rosa finally taking Britt's title, beating her ass and then fucking it. Luckily, Britt's ego never really stopped running and thus, she was able to snap back into reality and fire a verbal jab of her own.
"Yeah, as if I'd ever bottom to someone as pathetic as you!" Britt yapped and Deonna rolled her eyes.
"Like this bitch?" She asked before slapping Thunder Rosa's ass again, La Mera Mera yelping but gladly welcoming the abuse to her ass as Deonna pumped in and out of that shit-pipe.
"Yeah, that was a long time ago? Who cares," Britt sassily reminded. "And I'm not looking for your sorry ass, anyway, so there! I'm looking for that BITCH and her top who thought they could get away with laying me out in the ring!"
"Mercedes and Kamille? They left already," Deonna announced. "So, if you're looking to get your ass fucked, you might as well just bend over next to your ex-Mistress here and hope that The Virtuosa has time for you."
Now, it was Britt who rolled her eyes. "First of all, this bitch was NEVER my mistress, okay? That's number one, number two is this: are you trying to get your ass fucked or something? Because all you're doing is pissing me off, as if I wasn't already pissed off enough from that little CE-Hoe running around, claiming that she's the face of MY division!"
"Look, Britt...you, Mercedes...doesn't matter. Both of you are just keeping that TBS warm for me. And I don't know who YOU think you're fucking talking to, but I think we both know that compared to The Virtuosa, you aren't shit."
Britt, gritting her teeth as she looked down at someone who, for a very long time, was one of her closest friends in the world, growled, "You're making me out to be a joke right now and I promise Deonna, you're NOT gonna like the fucking punchline."
"Oh, yeah?" Deonna was quick to fire back. "Ha...hahaha....you? Think you can take...me? The best technical wrestler in the world? Ha! Honey, please. Just go. Get out of my face before I stop joking around about fucking your ass and get serious about making it happen."
"The fuck? I am supposed to be scared of you, bitch?" Britt asked, insulted. "This is my fucking division! Always was and still is! I don't care how many silly little rest-holds you know, I can kick your ass any day of the week and uhh...since my schedule is especially empty this Saturday on Collision...why don't I prove it? Me and you, one-on-one!"
Deonna couldn't help but giggle a bit, knowing how vastly superior her wrestling acumen was, and knowing that without any backup in the form of a VERY SPECIFIC hot British PAWG, Britt was facing tough odds. Especially Deonna herself wouldn't be all alone. "Collision, huh? I'd love to go back-to-back jacks like a true Collision Cowgirl..." Deonna pondered, referencing her latest victory against Thunder, as well as the reason why the former World Champion was bent over in front of her. "Question.... ass-for-ass?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Britt assured. "I need to teach you a fucking lesson! All of you, really. You, Mercedes, everyone! The three most important letters in this company are still D! M! D! And I already have a date with that little wannabe boss's ass at Wembley Stadium, so why not squeeze in a little tune-up match against an old friend?"
Deonna just shook her head, displaying a similar amount of confidence with far less effort. "Saturday it is then, Baker. I'd recommend keeping yourself plugged until then," Purrazzo advised with her signature "finger purse" for special effects, finishing, "It'll make it a lot less painful when I destroy your fucking butt."
"Keep talking, bitch," Britt snapped back. "It's your thicc ass that's gonna have a cock in it." And with that, Baker stormed off, barely even thinking about the forthcoming match against Deonna on Collision with Wembley Stadium and a TBS Title match against MonΓ© on the horizon.
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