Women's Wrestling League: Chapter 1

“FRANCINE IS GONNA BREAK HER SPINE!” shouted the booming voice over the intercom.  The voice had to be loud to be heard above the screaming fans in this warehouse converted into a stadium.  People were cheering from all around, raising their fists in encouragement of what was happening in the wrestling ring before them.

And in the center of the grungy stadium, with lights pointed on it, was said ring.  It had black ropes and a big logo on the apron spelling WWL, which stood for Women’s Wrestling League, the most famous underground (now there’s an oxymoron) wrestling promotion in all of town.  It had a huge fanbase and the biggest stars on the planet.  No, not the most famous, but literally the biggest.  Fans of WWL came to see gigantic women wrestle, women who could crush a normal person, man or female, to death just by sitting on them.  ‘Only the Biggest’ was their tagline.

And there, dead center in the middle of the ring, was the champion.  She went by the name of Francine.  She had brown hair and a mean look on her face at all times.  She wore black bottoms that couldn’t even cover her whole ass, which was gigantic.  Her black top barely covered her enormous breasts, and her pale skin was on display for the stadium to see.  People loved watching her decimate people, and she was very good at it.  Easy to do when you weigh 700 pounds, with enough muscle to keep you standing comfortably.

It was easy to write these women off as fat, but actually they were athletes.  Yes, they had guts, and yes, it was difficult to make out any muscles on them, but they were all very strong.  Had to be to be successful in this business.  Actually, they didn’t ALL have to be.  In fact, the woman she was wrestling was anything but.  It was easy to miss her, considering Francine’s size, but she was indeed bearhugging another woman, a much smaller woman.  She was a twig, especially in comparison, weighing maybe 100 pounds.  In the embrace of Francine, all you could really see of her was her head and her dangling feet, which were losing strength fast.  She was completely powerless to get out of the grips of Francine.

Until the fat woman dropped her.

The skinny girl dropped to the ground and landed on her back, barely able to move, let alone scurry to the ropes.  Francine looked down at her with a big smirk on her face, like a spider looks at a fly caught in her web.  To say this was a mismatch was an understatement, but that’s what the fans liked.

“FRANCINE STARES DOWN HER OPPONENT, HOW WILL ALEXA GET OUT OF THIS ONE ALIVE?”

Francine approached Alexa confidently, with her mouthing “no no” but no air escaping.  The fat woman stood over Alexa’s chest, pointing at the crowd and doing a seductive dance for all to see.

“THE END IS NEAR!” the announcer called out.

And then she kicked out her legs and fell to the mat, hard.  Her immense ass slammed down on top of Alexa, covering her entire upper torso including her face.  Poor Alexa’s leg twitched once or twice, then stopped entirely.

“WELL,” the announcer said nervously but still loudly.  “FOLKS, THE SHOW IS OVER!  UM, DRIVE… SAFELY?”  The sound of sirens approaching grew louder as the crowd began to disperse.  Francine didn’t appear interested in getting up from her seated position, which admittedly looked like it would take a lot of effort to do anyways with the load she was carrying around.

-

“You’re letting me go!?” Clara asked anxiously, her brown hair flopping in front of her eyes, forcing her to bat it away.  The office she was sitting in was quaint and small, but she needed this job, bad.  She didn’t have the nicest clothes, as she was currently struggling to make ends meet, but she was certainly trying her best.

“Unfortunately, yes,” said the woman in front of her, who looked much more regal.  “We are having to make cuts, and it seems we have two file clerks, and we have decided we are going to be able to get by with just one.”

“But I’m twice as good as Rodney!” Clara argued.  “I get so much more done than him, he’s always on break anyways!”

“Yes well… he’s my son… so…” she replied, leaving an awkward silence between them.  Clara knew she had lost.  Her job was over, the job she so desperately needed.  She was already behind on bills, and the job market was pretty rough right now.  “I’m sorry, Clara.  Good luck in the future, okay?”

“Okay,” Clara said, standing up and leaving the room.  She shut the door behind her, wanting to slam it as hard as she could, but decided at the last minute to let it lightly close behind her with a click.

-

“I told you NOT to kill the other wrestlers!” yelled Ginny.  She was by no means a small woman.  At 500 pounds, she would be imposing to almost every other woman on the planet.  But she was yelling at Francine, who had about 200 pounds on her, and was taller.  She was, however, not intimidated by anyone or anything.  She had grown up in this business and was hardened by it.  She had seen people come and go, and even herself competed for years.  She was a true pioneer in this industry.

“Eh, there will be others,” Francine scoffed.

“Others?” asked Ginny.  “Where are the others?”  She used her hand as a visor and scanned around, pretending to look.  “Hmm, nope, don’t see a huge line of skinny women signing up to get killed by a giant retard who can’t stop sitting on the competition!”  Her beat red face was almost the color of her hair.

“Relax, relax, I’m the champion.  I’m supposed to hurt people.”

“Hurt!  HURT!  Does hurt mean kill?  Let me check my thesaurus.  While I’m at it, what’s another word for moron?  Oh, says it right here, Francine.  Hey that’s you!”

Francine headed for the door and opened it.  “I’ll need some new opponents, and soon.  The crowd likes seeing me destroy tiny girls, so that’s on you to get me some more fodder.”  She closed the door behind her.  Ginny crossed her big, flabby arms.  She would fire that bitch if she wasn’t such a draw.

-

Clara’s day wasn’t going great.  She had just lost her job and was sadly walking home.  She had to sell her car months ago to try to make ends meet.  This newest setback would be the hardest of them all.  She was very petite and short, weighing probably 90 pounds and being around 5 feet tall.  She was used to the world picking on her for being tiny, but now it just seemed too cruel a joke.

The walk home was a relatively long one, but it could be worse.  It took her about 40 minutes to get to her apartment, which meant she got her steps in every day.  Today it was raining pretty strongly, and of course she had forgotten her umbrella, so she was constantly ducking under the local awnings of businesses and trees from the surrounding parks.  It was so typical that today it would rain this hard, of all days, where she was miserable from her life falling apart.  She needed a chuckle, so she stopped about halfway and looked at her phone.

Now on the sidewalk, she flipped through her social media, realizing she followed way too many women for a non lesbian.  And they were all so hot, with voluptuous bodies that weren’t possible for a girl like her.  She sometimes wondered why it was that she even bothered to look at them; they were beautiful, but she didn’t want to have sex with them.  There was something weird rooted within her, and likely within the women around her, that made her this way.  Maybe it had to do with-

A car rushed by on the street, shooting a torrent of water into the air, and directly on to her.  In the commotion of the tidal wave, her phone escaped her hands and crashed to the concrete.  Once Clara fixed her eyes and got over being completely drenched by gross water, she looked down to see her phone smashed to pieces, and soaking wet to boot.  All of her contact to the outside world had evaporated in mere seconds.  Today was turning into the worst day of her life, and in a hurry.

-

“Oops,” Ginny said to herself.  She hated driving, and wasn’t used to it.  Her massive body barely fit into this rental car, and she accidentally just careened into a corner, shooting water everywhere.  She could barely see anything through the rain, so she felt like every turn could be her last.

“Dumb bitch, can’t stop killing other wrestlers,” she muttered under her breath.  She was in town looking for some candidates.  She needed a small girl, a tiny girl.  Someone who would look extremely small compared to her wrestlers, who were all at least 500 pounds.  Now obviously, most girls are much smaller than this, but it was visually appealing to see a woman who was significantly undersized.

She drove on and on around the city, looking at any woman she could see, but it was so blurry it was impossible.  She parked her car at a coffee shop and looked around on foot.  Carrying that much heft made it difficult to walk for too long; she was no longer in ring shape, so her knees struggled with the weight.

“This is hopeless…” she said to herself.

-

Clara finally made it home.  After the awful day she was having, she wanted nothing more than to lie down on her warm bed and go to sleep, maybe watch some TV.  She could just imagine crashing into the soft pillows and crawling under the blankets.  She could actually envision it right now, in front of her.  Then it struck her.  Much to her horror, she was literally seeing it in front of her.  As in actually on the lawn.  The realization quickly hit her.

The bills had been piling up.  Rent past due.  She was trying to get everything paid off… had she been… evicted?

She raced into the landlord’s office.

“What is my shit doing on the lawn?” she demanded.

“You haven’t paid rent in two months,” the old man behind the counter said.  “I got new renters coming in tomorrow, need your stuff out of here.  Tough luck kid.”