Post by Admin on Mar 3, 2022 20:31:09 GMT
Veronica’s Ocean Front Condo
Key West, Florida
March 1st, 2022
(Off Camera)
Veronica Strader had been in total control since December 3rd, 2021, and unlike Victoria, she is very much a heterosexual woman. She held off on scratching that animalistic itch because of her guilt for violating Victoria’s body, but then she met Christian Cain, Outcast, and that was thrown to the wind. She wakes up in the king-size bed of hers in the Key West Ocean-Front Condo she bought last month and looks over to her left to see the back of the man that had popped a couple of Oxy’s and gave her the 60-minute Razzle Dazzle, not once, but twice. He was gentle, caring for the fact she had never been with a man before. What she doesn’t see in the darkness of the room, even with the night sky seeping through the window, is Victoria, arms crossed, watching her.
Victoria watches Veronica sit up in that post-coital glow, get up out of bed, head towards the bathroom, and all while she is walking on cloud nine. However, that wasn’t going to last much longer. The moon's light illuminates the bathroom, and she looks into the mirror, smiling. Victoria has followed her and watches herself (basically) stand in the bathroom in a purple lace bra and matching panties.
“Oh wow, I never imagined anything like that. He’s doing that again before we leave for Ireland,” she says to her reflection in the mirror. She reaches back to flip on the light switch and is surprised to see Victoria standing there. "What are you doing here?!”
“Oh, just catching a homemade porno movie,” Victoria fires back, but calmly and for the first time, Veronica is nervous.
“It’s not like I have spread my legs for everyone, like your ex. Christian is the only one I have been with, and besides, you willingly gave me control, Vee,” Veronica spits back.
“Point taken, but I have been starting to wonder just how willing I was when I let you take over. I think you manipulated me into self-doubt and not believing in myself,” she points out, with her arms crossed, glaring at her family’s affliction.
Veronica stares at her before shrugging.
“And so what if I did? Vee Strader is ten and zip and the TransAtlantic champion.”
“Of the belt that Betsy Granger never lost?”
Veronica shows she is starting to get impatient.
“She was purged. That was no one's fault but her own, and I am gonna make history with that championship!”
Victoria suddenly lunges at Veronica, grabs her by the hair, turns her around and throws her at the mirror. Glass shatters and flies all over the bathroom floor. Veronica tumbles right through it and finds herself no longer in her condo but in Vee’s mind palace, more specifically, near her locker and the secret memory room that belongs to Veronica. Her eyes go wide, the flames burning bright behind her glasz eyes. She looks around for Victoria but doesn't see her, but hears her over the P.A. system.
“Welcome to the other part of my palace: CCH. You may recognize the door in front of you. It’s something you did an abysmal job of trying to hide. Go ahead and open it.”
Veronica stands up and looks down at herself, realizing she’s not dressed for what feels inevitable. She closes her eyes, and when they open, she is dressed in her signature purple jeans, a pair of white running shoes, and an Outcast t-shirt tied up on the left side of her stomach.
“Dressed or not, you aren’t getting out of this.”
“What the fuck is this, Vee?” she yells, holding her arms up and out. “Huh?! What is this goddamnit! Answer me!”
Veronica feels something grab at the back of the waist of her jeans and the back of her neck as she is heaved through the janitorial closet door. Ronnie gathers her senses and her eyes go wide when she realizes where she is.
THWIP THWIP
She looks up to see herself killing Victoria’s grandfather, the infamous Scott Nash Strader. She doesn’t even have to look to her left to know Victoria is standing; eyes welled up with tears.
“He wasn’t the greatest man in the world, but he didn’t deserve to go out like this, Veronica,” Victoria says, quietly and sadly. “I’ll never find closure, and mom… how could you do that to her?”
“I was protecting you! That piece of shit —“
Veronica is cut off by Victoria, smacking her in the back of the head. Veronica has had enough and tackles Victoria, but she doesn’t go down and instead brings her forearms down on the upper back. Veronica pushes off, which sends Victoria back out into the school hallway. Veronica finds Victoria but finds Vee’s right fist to her face causing spit and blood to spray across the lockers. Veronica grunts in anger, files towards Victoria, and sends her own right fast to Victoria's face. The personalities take turns slugging it out. Left, right, left, uppercut from Victoria, thrust kick from Veronica, and both women let out a visceral roar.
“I AM TAKING MY BODY BACK!”
“OVER MY DEAD BODY! IT’S MY LIFE NOW! I JUST FOUND CHRISTIAN, AND YOU CAN’T TAKE HIM FROM ME!”
Victoria grabs Veronica by her hair and starts running her down the small sloped floor and tosses her into the glass wall into the cafeteria, and she lands on a grey plastic table and falls off the other side, knocked out. Victoria walks through the broken glass around the table and squats down beside her. With her left hand, she moves bloodied hair from Veronica’s face. She leans in and whispers into her ear.
“Enjoy it while you can because I am going to take my body and my life back. Bitch.”
Victoria stands back up, turns and walks out of the cafeteria, probably heading to the childhood home palace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outcast, also known as Christian Cain, had gotten up in the middle of the night for the traditional after sex piss when he found Veronica in the sexy purple lace unmentionables beaten up, cuts on her arms, face and chest. He checked the condo for any signs of forced entry, but nothing. He laid out blankets on her couch and laid her down there after cleaning up her cuts and washed as much blood as he could out of her hair. He sat down on the floor, just in his boxers and fell asleep sitting up, his head leaning back against her side.
She woke up after a bit, sore and disoriented for a few seconds. She sees she is on her couch and sees Outcast asleep. She turns onto her right side slowly, grimacing slightly. Veronica runs her left hand across a welt left by Plethora, and he wakes. He turns and smiles at her, which he isn't known for unless he’s laughing at a hurt Maurako.
“Darlin’, are you ok?” he asks quietly, obviously very concerned.
“I am now… you cleaned me up and brought me out here? Great lay and chivalrous. Full package,” she says with a wink and another grimace when they both chuckle.
“What happened, Ronnie? Who did this?”
“I don’t know if you’ll even believe me… just lay with me, and I will tell you everything, ok?” she asks softly. He nods, and she shifts over so he can lay down with her and hold her gently.
“Yeah, we can do that, darlin.”
Little did Veronica know, but the OCW Champion would understand what beating yourself up was like. She laid there feeling vulnerable for the first time in her existence, but in his arms, she felt content and at ease. Veronica, leaning to her left side into the armrest and rubs in a circular motion on the cushion beside her for Outcast to sit up beside her. He winces on his way up, puts his left arm around her shoulder and pulls her in gently to his chest as her hands fall to his inner thigh. She sighs with relief as she hears his heartbeat. His left-hand curves back over and moves a few loose strands of hair from her face, and she feels the tickle of goosebumps forming from his touch. A man so rough but capable of being gentle.
“You know a bit about who I am… I’ve been called an “affliction”. I share a trait with Matthew Knox, Supreme Machine and Queen Machine Jenny. That trait resulted in me being born with Victoria and her sister Cara. I have been alive as long as she has been, but I couldn’t take being trapped, held captive, watching life go by that wasn’t mine. Hood and others like to make fun of me, call me crazy, but I swear to you, Christian, I am as sane as anyone else in this industry. Unlike my father and cousins, I’m very aware of everything and not in constant battle with my other half,” she says, trailing off, her hands gently squeezing his thigh without realizing it. A level of comfort she never thought she could have. Now it was being threatened.
“Aye, until recently,” he says, but not in the form of a question. “I saw it at Access Denied and your matches since. She’s breaking free, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is. She saw us together tonight. Watched it all. I think it triggered her and gave her the strength to attack me and make me feel it… I know; it sounds insane. It is insane,” she says quietly. The words she hears next, well, surprise her.
“Last month, when I had that joke Maurako and Lurr to deal with, I was visited by the other part of me. It got brutal, Ronnie. It was Christian Cain versus Outcast when the smoke cleared right in my kitchen,” his rugged voice calms her as he lifts her head with the hand attached to the arm wrapped around her. He leans down, laying a kiss on her lips, and she feels the tightness in her shoulders released. He slowly pulls away, and her eyes slowly open to see a grin on his face, and he gives her a reassuring wink. “Do I think you are a bit crazy? Maybe, but that’s just one of the things I enjoy about you.”
“I haven’t run you away?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says firmly. He doesn’t have a chance to react as Veronica is up and swings her womanly leg over his lap to straddle him. The electricity was thriving between them; both were surprised to find this in their lives. His right arm wraps around, grabbing her behind; he lifts her with one arm, and her arms around his neck help hold her in place; the warmth of his breath on her neck makes her quiver in his embrace.
They would spend the rest of the evening in a sweaty embrace, the outcast of OCW and (his queen?) the purge survivor finding comfort and company in one another. The question is, what will happen when Victoria retakes control? Will Outcast fight to protect the woman that has been cheering his name since she first saw him wrestle?
Páirc Uí Chaoimh
Cork, Ireland
March 3rd, 2022
(On Camera)
Veronica was feeling a new pressure coming into March. Her pursuit of The Lost Stranger has brought her this far, but she wasn’t expecting to find tenderness with an older man like the OCW Champion and certainly didn’t think that Victoria would start fighting back. She was concerned she was now losing it for the first time since taking control.
“Focus, Ronnie. Focus. This is your life now. Yours. Not hers.”
Veronica was watching the OCW crew get the stadium ready for what would have been Victoria’s grandfather, Scott Nash Strader’s 57th birthday; as it turned out, he got to his 56th and was already past his expiration with his lifestyle. Usually, watching the crew put the ring together and set up the stage and ramp was relaxing, but it wasn’t there this time. She sits up in the stands in the first row, head held up with her palms supported by her elbows on the edge of the barrier in front of her. She leans back with her hands hanging onto her shoulders, and the weight of it reminds her of Outcast, causing her anxiety to melt away.
Anxiety. Everybody and their grandmothers have it, with it being way more common than we realized, but Veronica wasn’t one of them. That was Victoria, and that scared her. Did it mean Victoria was holding through on her threat? Veronica was locked up inside Victoria’s psyche her whole life and was self-aware; having to be content with watching something she couldn’t participate in would be an impossible ask of anyone. She could handle almost twenty-one years; Victoria should be fine after a mere ninety-one days.
Adjusting her Outcast hoodie, she wears her TransAtlantic Championship white leather belt like a sash, and her wavy dirty blonde hair falls neatly upon her shoulders. The flicker of flame was ever-present behind those glasz coloured eyes of hers.
“Carpe Noctem and the Great Illuminatus has come and gone, and it was a spectacle to behold. Watching the blood and guts of OCW come running in on tier one and by tier six, they could barely stand or kidnapped by Owl people.”
“Or casually murdered by Plethora.”
“I’m sure I surprised people by not participating inside the pyramid, but I would like to point out the former Craze Champion, PerZag, is now standing with nothing, a flash in the pan for MAYBE getting to the top to compete against Outcast. Instead of defending an OCW championship at Luck of the Violent, he doesn't have a match. No, I rather lose my baby one on one in the ring, or wherever, not by chance. Now I am defending my title in the match preceding the main event. I don’t regret staying out of the Pyramid. My Legacy? Starts right here,” she says, tapping her ‘top left’ that’s covered by the title faceplate.
“And there is only one man I want to go nose to nose with, to kick out of the dreaded Small Package, and that is The Lost Stranger. Somehow he was able to get by me since I laid eyes on him. I knew I had to get him between those ropes. There are men and women in this sport that just give off that vibe, and he is one of them.”
“So I had to leave the comfort of something new and an oh so warm tingly feeling to fly to Ireland to begin this PPV tour and wrestle another OCW lifer.”
Visibly, she is stifling a laugh. You are too.
“Clubbin’ Man. Iggy Hardy destroyed you, but the cocaine steroid abusing hooker lovin’ sonofagun would be an instant challenge for the first few moves when it should become predictable that he’s just raging. You need to outdance or get him so worked up his heart would pop right out of his chest.”
“Spoon or no spoon, you aren’t getting my eye, and you’ll be yet just another fly I swat out of the air. Another notch in the left column.”
“I have heard the Victoria fanboy, Smith, and a recent fan of mine, Hood, have spoken about us, and gentlemen, let me assure you it is only Ronnie in charge,” she says with a smirk. She sits up a little bit, and a coolness calms the flames behind those glasz eyes.
“But every once in a while…”
She slowly looks to the ground and exhales like she’s feeling it for the first time in ninety-one days.
“… you get to show everyone who’s really in charge. Clubbin’ Man, I will see you—-“
Her abrupt stop is a bit jarring, like she suddenly rerouted the power supply to a non-damaged source. Flames behind sad eyes were fading. She pulls herself together and just continues as nothing has happened.
“I will see you on my grandpa’s birthday, and I’ll even dedicate the match to him; he’d like that. Outside the whole sleeping with my ex, Mad Max, for a disturbing amount of time, he was really good to me. Total asshat for that. But, can’t change it,” she says with a shrug.
“On Monday Night Massacre… it'll be a notch for the good girl.”
Yes, but for how long? The sneer of her family creeps across her face.
“Thank you, fuck you, byyyyyye.”
Le fin.
