Don't Trust Anyone
The handwritten note from Mr. Big had read: “Don’t trust anyone.” It lay face up on Delilah DeLovely’s make-up table in her dressing room at the Queens Arena. The note had come with a dozen pink roses.
The Fabulous Vixen stared at her reflection in the mirror, reflecting on the past few days.
She’d been ordered by the Champ to face former promoter Dandy Dawson with her promoter position on the line. That had come out of nowhere. It didn’t make sense unless…unless Phillip had somehow gotten wind of her pact with the UltimateTop aka Mr. Big—her agreement to make sure Phillip was drugged before entering the squared circle, and her additional agreement to give Donald Livingston a title shot after BlackAlpha completed his successful comeback.
DeLovely had already put silver highlights in her eyebrows. Now she put the final touches on her ruby red lipstick. The TSWF promoter lifted her blonde wig from its nearby stand and arranged it on her bald head. The wig contrasted with her dark brown angular face.
Normally, the Fabulous Vixen wore 2” or 3” black heels, but tonight she wore knee high black leather boots with silver laces. This meant she would stand at 6’3” in the ring, still taller than that has-been Dandy Dawson who was only 6’1”.
DeLovely wanted to shock Dandy and the horny audience by dressing only in a black thong barely able to hold her 11” black spear of a cock. When Dawson had quit as promoter in humiliation, he had sucked on that massive meat as if it were a baby’s pacifier.
Above her thong she wore a cropped black tank top. She had stuffed her size 40D fake breasts inside it. She looked down to see the space between the bottom of her top and waistband of her thong. The cut ridges of her dark brown-colored abs formed a perfect eight pack.
“Five minutes, Miss DeLovely,” a stagehand shouted from outside her dressing room.
At that moment, the door swung open, and the Champ, Phillip the Philistine, strode inside with a smirk on his face. The Blonde Alpha Sadist was wearing his tight black leather Speedo, which already bulged in the zippered pouch, and matching black leather boots. His blonde hair with dark roots was especially messy this evening. It glistened with product.
In one hand, he held a pink water bottle with silver sparkles in the other.
The Devious Diva did a double take, then exclaimed with more than a hint of obsequiousness, “My Alpha Master!”
“You look fetching, my Sub,” Phillip said, “but are you ready?”
“Oh honey, I am so ready to defeat that silver-haired Bitch.” She continued, “I plowed him before, and I can’t wait to do it again.”
The Champ nodded, "You'll be happy to know I insisted on Dandy wearing that silver sequined jock strap with "DD's Bitch" on the front. Just wanted him humiliated from the start. Priming the pump for you."
"That's marvelous, Champ.” DeLovely said.
The Blonde Alpha Sadist adopted a concerned look. He held out the pink bottle, “I brought you ice cold water. It must be 105 degrees today. The auditorium is warm as fuck.”
“So thoughtful,” Delilah purred, as she snatched the pink bottle and felt it. “It is cold,” she agreed.
The stagehand was back outside the door. He knocked and barked, “Miss DeLovely, two minutes to curtain time!”
DeLovely looked at herself one more time in the mirror and smiled approvingly.
“Don’t you think you should take a few sips before your match?” Phillip suggested.
“I will. Don’t you worry!” she said, adding, “Now skedaddle so I can collect myself before my big introduction.”
Phillip hesitated—apparently waiting for DeLovely to take a drink. But then he turned and exited the dressing room.
Delilah looked at the water bottle Phillip had brought. “I smell a rat,” she said to herself, adding, “Dandy’s gotten to the Champ.”
The Devious Diva picked up the cold bottle and turned it around in her hand. “But maybe I’ll play along,” she said with a mischievous grin.
Just then, she heard clapping and the roar of the horny Queens fans. Veteran TSWF announcer Vern Wonder must have stepped into the ring.
Standing to retrieve her silver cape, DeLovely smiled again, “Maybe I’ll just fucking play along.”
(To be continued.)
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