Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know or own Mickie James, Trish Stratus or any WWE stars for that matter. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
******
Trish Stratus had been riding high into Wrestlemania 22. She was a six time WWE women's champion, and had held the title for over a year now, solidifying herself as one of the greatest of all time. Which was especially impressive, given that when she arrived in the company about six years ago, she had no wrestling experience. But she had worked hard and slowly got better, earning the respective her peers in the process.
And now? Now no one could touch her. She'd beaten everybody there was to beat, including her opponent tonight. So she didn't even think for a second that she could lose that night... but she did. The mighty Trish Stratus got beat fair and square in the middle of the ring, which was by far the most devastating loss of her career. And not just because it was the end to her epic title reign.
She spent the rest of the night in a daze, replaying the match over and over in her head. Maybe she could claim it wasn't her fault? The fans had turned on her, and who could have seen that happening? Okay, so she had won plenty of matches while getting booed, and she did a better job at adapting to surprises before, but still. She'd made a bet, and while normally she didn't weasel her way out of such things, this was different.
This was... gay. Not that Trish had a problem with gay people, she just didn't want to have sex with one. But as the hours just ticked by, she just couldn't find a way out, and then all of a sudden, she found herself standing in front of a hotel room which wasn't her own, still making up her mind whether to knock on the door, or to run for the hills. For better or for worse, the decision was made for her, as it suddenly opened to reveal a grinning Mickie James.
"Trish! You made it!" Mickie exclaimed excitedly.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Trish grumbled sarcastically, just before the wind was knocked out of her with one of Mickie's patented way too tight hugs.
"Oh my Gosh Trish, you're here, you're really here!" Mickie exclaimed just as loudly, this time directly into Trish's ear, "I mean, of course you are. You're not the type to duck out on a bet. But it was getting late, and I was starting to worry
"Mickie! You're being too loud. Again." Trish scolded.
"I'm sorry..." Mickie apologized, lowering her voice, "I'm just so excited."
"I know." Trish grumbled, before pleading, "Just... not here, okay?"
Which caused Mickie to grin wickedly, and then because she couldn't resist, whispered directly into Trish's ear, "We're going to have so much fun together."
Which might have sounded innocent, if it wasn't for Mickie's tone of voice, and the way the bitch kissed her cheek, and then pulled back to give Trish a wicked grin. Understandably this had Trish itching to punch Mickie in her smug little face, but it also caused her to blush, as she couldn't help imagining what exactly that would entail.
Thankfully, there was no one in that corridor in that moment, probably because it was quite late at night. But still, Mickie was taking one hell of an unnecessary risk with both their lives in that moment. Luckily she then moved back, holding the door open for Trish, who quickly scurried in before anyone could see her, because God knows she didn't need any one asking why Trish Stratus would enter the hotel room of the woman who had just beaten her for her title.
Her WWE women's title, which was now laying on Mickie's bedside table, a taunting reminder of the humiliating defeat she'd just received, and the consequences of that defeat. Trish continued staring at her title for a few long seconds as the door was closed and locked behind her, sealing her into her fate.
She was then vaguely aware of Mickie staring at her, before walking around the room, and pouring a couple of drinks, before wordlessly handing one to Trish. Without a second thought Trish downed it in one, despite the fact that it was clearly a double. Something that was meant to be savoured, not immediately swallowed. And she kind of paid for it immediately, choking loudly and violently from the strength of the alcohol.
"What the hell was that?" Trish choked.
"Whiskey." Mickie said brightly, before explaining, "My grandpappy said it was a real drink, for real men. Not that we're men, but you know. It's strong and effective. Especially this stuff. It's not the namby-pamby cheap stuff, but the real deal. Because tonight is special, and we deserve to celebrate. And besides, only the best for my girl, right?"
"I'm not..." Trish began, before sighing deeply and grumbling, "Just give me another."
"What's the magic word?" Mickie sing-songed, before quickly doing as she was told after Trish gave her a warning look. There was an awkward silence, and then Mickie broke it by pointing out, "Sooooooo, great match, huh? I mean, it's always magical when we share the same ring, but you have to admit, that was something special, right?"
"I got booed!" Trish protested, "And you, my creepy stalker, got cheered."
"I don't think I'm creepy." Mickie pouted, before pointing out, "And they cared about the match. How many times have the women in this company wrestler to silence? Or been called, the bathroom break, match?"
Trish knew that Mickie had a point, but she downed her latest drink, and poured herself another to try and distract from that fact, and then grumbling, "You use my own moves to win, and you couldn't even get them right first time."
"Yeah, that was my bad." Mickie apologized, before quickly countering, "But I thought it was cute, the crowd seemed to love it, and it just proves how bad ass and effective you are."
Which made Trish glared at her opponent, and then she practically spat, "You took my title, and now you are forcing me to have sex with you."
