A Brutal Begining: Karla Reinhardt Vs Rareta St. Helen

Looking back on the meetings, Rareta was never sure how she got roped into doing these matches. Hentai was embarrassing but ultimately it was just a matter of making sure the footage never made it to the internet (and fortunately she had the tech team on hand to make sure that happened...the perks of being part of a very rich family). Unfortunately no amount of money was going to be able to protect her now. She had somehow gotten roped into doing another Debut and from little she could gather this woman liked it rough. She had not been able to find out exactly how rough, but it was rough, and that terrified her. That would not stop from trying to live up to the Ideals that her mentor kept inspiring in her, the ideals of the warrior.

The sound of her music woke her from her private revere and she scrambled to the entrance to the arena. This part at least she had gotten used to, if not the whole idea of people watching her. So she walked down to the ring, waving to a few people but her face still very red from her shyness around people. She climbed into the ring, showing of a small amount of her acrobatic skill and then settled into the far corner to await her opponent.

Shadows swallowed the ring. A barren chill sniped the air as seconds fizzled by with nothing but garbled voices and the flashes of phones. Ominous thumps dominated the soundscape, counted three before it exploded into a bass-heavy techno melody. The titantron stamped the words “K.R.R” in blood red, and spotlights flicked to life to shine upon the woman who emerged. A woman dressed in an oversized fluffy white coat, and underneath was an all-black skintight bodysuit. Leather hugged every curve from her toned legs, abdominals, chest, rear and sleeves, all reflectant in the light’s posture. Her features were sharp and donned flawless skin, polished by divine and crowned by a mane of velvet hair that draped to her hair, varnished with a curl that danced down her right eye.

Every step came with a sashay that threw her coat to one side and unveiled the hourglass frame she prized underneath.“Annnnd her opponent! From Hamburg, Germany.. Standing at 5 foot 2 and weighing in at one-hundred and nineteen poundssss! She is the debuting Karla “Ray” Reinhardtttt! K!! R!! R!!.”

Her hands threw open to draw a heap of whistles and loose cheers that all but swore fealty to her eye candy, yet paid them no mind as her high heels scaled the steps. A hand coursed the top rope and gripped it, where she craned her body back, padded a leather-clad hand onto her cherry lipstick and blew a kiss towards the front row. But when she straightened up, her glare found the referee to hypnotize their compliance. Her fingers snapped, pointed towards the ropes that beckoned them to sit. Once they obeyed, the Reinhardt threw her leg betwixt, weaved and put some bills down their shirt.

Inside the ring, she gave her opponent the same glare that struck daggers; focused as the predator slipped off her coat and unveiled her lithe but firm body shape. She’d occupy the ring’s centre, keen on killing them with her gaze alone.

Even if Rareta had not been scared before she was most certainly scared now. This woman's flagrant bribing of the ref to the way she seemed to stare right into the very core of the small pinkette, all of it made her firmly believe that should have been a match to have been fought by someone else. Still she was here, and she had her master's teaching to help her make it through this match. Also she had spent a little time with Master's husband, a man who was a master heel, he tried to keep his cheating on the downlow, Rareta firmly believed that this woman would not.

"Ummm...hi, how do you d-do. M-my name is R-Rareta, I hope we can have a g-good match." A she tried to sound pleasant, but her fear made her stutter and squeak, something about Karla just reminding her too much of a wolf, and herself, a little bunny that had been bound by that wolf.