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Another late night at the office, so to speak. It was getting late at the gym and the big tiger had just finished her workout for the evening. Tired, sweaty, a little sore, but still feeling rejuvenated, Rickie opened her locker to pull out what she needed to shower up and change into some relatively clean clothes. Her usual workout attire was her black and pink bra and shorts combo, and she was always the kind of person to wear her glasses when lifting some iron, no matter how sweaty she got. Most at the gym she frequents are pretty friendly, helpful, or just keep to themselves. Then there are those who always seem to be looking for trouble in some way or another - after all, many fighters from various skill levels and disciplines come here to get their numbers in.

A somewhat smaller, fleshy paw made a sad attempt to slam the locker door in front of the tiger's face. The culprit didn't seem to care that they only made the small, metal door swing and bang around a bit before Rickie caught it after being startled. She growled as she caught the door mid-swing and began to say something when this troublemaker opened her little pie hole.

"Oi! Putain!" Yelled a small, red-haired rat woman, not caring who else in the locker room heard her. She too had on what appeared to be similar workout clothes to Rickie's, yet they had a bit of jade coloring and patterns on them and looked a bit too shiny and tight for working out in. Was she wearing part of her wrestling gear, maybe?

Regardless, this bitch out of nowhere was starting to piss her off. "Ex-CUSE me!?" Rickie replied, clearly offended and bewildered.

"You heard me, petit chat!" She scolded again, pointing a skinny, pointy rat finger close to the tiger's nose. "I've seen how you 'wrestle' all your little lads and lasses, but those losers ain't got nothing on this bitch!" She yelled, pointed her thumb towards herself.

"Is that so, huh?" Rickie turned to face her, arms crossed over her clearly larger breasts and not at all cracking a smile.

The rat nodded, then pointed at Rickie again. "And I'm gonna prove it to you by pinning your stripy ass as soon as you step in the ring with me!"

"Okay," she replied with a shrug.

The rat was silent for a moment, unsure how to respond aside from "...what?"

"O-kay," she replied again but with more emphasis, "If you think you can pin me as soon as I step in the ring with you, then name any conditions you and whatnot and let's do this."

"Yeah! Let's!" Suddenly the rat backhanded the tiger across the face, causing her to jerk her head right into the edge of the opened locker door and ricochet off of it, knocking her glasses off in the process.

Rickie just glared at the lithe, red-haired rat, holding her stinging snout and growling low in rage. "Time and place, girl...time and place..." She reminded herself to keep from lashing out and causing more of a scene in a public locker room.

The rat bitch somehow procured a slip of paper with some writing on it. "My place. Tonight. 2200 hours. Sharp!" She ordered, slamming the slip of paper in the tiger's opened locker. She then got as close as she could to the tiger's face, making the height difference between them more clear. "That is if you're not a pussy~" She spoke softly, though still trying to show a sense of dominance and intimidation. She then gave Rickie a smooch on the paw that covered her snout to further try and tease the tiger. The rat then gave her a little wave with her tiny, naked paw as her naked tail swayed behind her as she walked her petite ass out of the locker room like she owned the place.

This wasn't the first time someone smaller than her wanted to challenge her to a fight, and she knew this won't be the last. Even before she realized she was trans, Rickie always noticed the smaller ones had the biggest egos, yet were also one of two types of fighters: the ones who are total jobbers and love being handled like her own, personal training dummy, and the ones who are ruthless and tough to simmer down. Usually Rickie could tell right away which type they were, though she wasn't quite sure of this random rat bitch out of nowhere.

She rubbed her stinging nose a bit and growled at how much it stung. "Fuck that hurt..." She quietly said to herself. With some slight hesitation, she removed her paw from her face, thankful there was no blood. Still, she would have to be careful for a while before having to go put a rat in her place. At least she still had a few hours until then.

"Are you okay, miss?" Asked a quiet, soft-spoken voice that sounded like it was from someone older.

"Hmm?" Rickie turned towards the speaker briefly and let out a nervous chuckle. "Oh yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry."

The older ferret woman reached for the tiger's bulky, grey and green bicep, giving it as firm of a squeeze as her little paws could muster. She then looked up at her, staring Rickie right in the eyes. "Kick her ass, tiger. That's no way to act in public, or at all for that matter." She then dropped her arm and slowly hobbled towards the showers with only a towel around her neck and nothing else.

Rickie watched the older ferret walk away, trying not to giggle as she took care of the rest of her belongings and closed up her locker. "Didn't know old women did the same thing in locker rooms as old men do..."

With a sigh and a slight sniffle, she too made her way out of the locker rooms, with the slip of paper with the rat bitch's address and their meeting time folded up in her bag. She just hoped she wouldn't encounter her before their little fight.

* * *

Almost immediately Rickie recognized the street name on the address when she looked at it before leaving her house - in fact, the address was one she's been to before many times. She knew she wasn't seeing things because she made sure to take a cat nap before this fight - after all, one does need to be sure they're well rested so they can defend their honor and smack a bitch around if need be. But no, she wasn't seeing things at all, especially after typing in the address on her phone to look it up.

"That...That's impossible," she said with a bit of a chuckle, "That address isn't even for a house or an apartment or even a homeless shelter." She clicked off the screen, put her phone in the back pocket of her track pants, grabbed her bag and other belongings, and made her way out the door.

"No point in setting the navigation to my arena..." She sighed after getting in her car. "At least no one will bother us, hopefully."

She pulled out of the driveway and made her way to the International Fighting Organization (IFO) arena that she owned. She knew there were no shows scheduled for tonight and, unless that bitch rat somehow cobbled together a crowd at the last minute, the place should be vacant tonight. On the one hand, Rickie was glad it'll just be her and the rat - on the other, she didn't mind the idea of humiliating that bitch in front of a crowd, especially after just assaulting her like that in the locker room.

Seriously? Who the fuck does that!?

* * *

Rickie was relieved that there were no cars in the parking lot save for a lone motorbike, which she assumed was Kaz's. As she stepped out of the car and went to grab her bag from the back seat, she paused to take a good look at the building in front of her.

"Can't believe I actually own this...." She muttered as she once again took in its refurbished exterior that still held up to this day. She made damn sure it looked as new and stylish as it did back in the 60's - none of this bland, square, modern shit she kept seeing everywhere. It wasn't a big arena by any means and was just the right size for typical, local big events for a moderately-sized city. Now, it's the home to the International Fighting Organization, made clear by the giant, orange and black furry fist logo emblazoned on all four sides of the building.

"And I can't believe I'm about to have a private sex fight with a rat here of all places...." She muttered again as she closed the door and headed towards the entrance.

Immediately she saw the rat leaning against the wall near the doors. She noticed she wore jade-colored, knee-high boots and fingerless gloves, though wasn't sure what else she wore underneath her zipped up leather jacket. Rickie also noticed the rat had a sucker in her mouth and glared at her as she approached, as if she's trying to give off that bad-ass biker bitch vibe. To be fair, the look fit her quite well.

"Bonne soirée petite chatte," she said in a sultry, intimidating tone. Rickie had to admit, this rat could play the heel role very damn well.

"You...do know this isn't where you live, right?" The tiger asked in response. As she approached the rat, she noticed that she also had on some simple eyeliner, lashes, and a little bit of red lipstick that popped against her light brown fur and matched her hair and eyebrows.

She popped the sucker from her mouth, it being a bright green color and very wet from her saliva. "Yeah it is. I own this place," she said, popping her hip out as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"No...I own it," Rickie replied, dumbfounded, "I mean, I know you don't have any proof soooo...."

"Oh, I have proof alright," she replied with a grin, pulling out a folded piece of paper.

Rickie scoffed and took it, unfolding it without any change in her expression. "This just says, 'MINE' in all caps."

"See! Proof!" She exclaimed, popping the sucker back in her mouth.

"Okay, smartass, then how come you're not inside already?"

"I was waiting for you, putain~"

Rickie then crossed her arms. "Really now..." She paused for a moment. "So go open the doors then," she said, nodding towards them.

With a sly grin, the rat went to fling the doors open, only to find them securely locked. "Merde..."

The tiger let out a sigh, "Let's get this over with..." she said as she pulled out her keys from her bag and unlocked one of the doors with ease, holding it open for her jobber-to-be.

"Awww, comme c'est gentil~" The rat cooed, popping the sucker from her mouth and jamming it into the tiger's before strutting off inside.

She took a second to register what happened, then glared as the rat made a show of her entrance into the building. As much of a bitch as she is, and doesn't seem the brightest, she did have a cute ass and just looked cute in general. She then popped the sucker out of her mouth. "Hmm, sour apple," she said before popping it back in, following the rat inside and making sure all the doors were locked behind them.

It was a bit of a trek to get to the locker rooms, passing through the ticket booths, passing by the closed food and merchendise vendor stalls, walking down long, wide corridors that went all the way around the periphery of the arena. At least it gave them time for some decent conversation...or that was Rickie's hope anyway.

"So..."Rickie started off rather awkwardly with the sucker still in her mouth, "What is your deal with me anyway?"

Kaz looked at her a tad skeptically, then chuckled. "You know how it is, putain. You cats have a natural instinct to hunt us rodents. I'm going to prove us rats can handle this~" As she said this, she swung her arm down to quickly and firmly grope the tiger's denim-clad ass cheek, getting her to yelp and blush a little.

Rickie growled angrily, biting down on the sucker in her mouth and breaking it off the stick, though her blush said otherwise. She looked ahead where they walked, pulling the wet paper stick out of her mouth and throwing it away in the nearest trash can.

The rat giggled at her reaction. "Besides, I don't like authority figures," she said, giving off a sly smirk towards the tiger.

Rickie was a little confused but also concerned what Kaz meant by that. "...What?"

"Oh, nothing~" the rat replied, "I can tell we'll have a fun time, mon amour~"

"You mean I will have a fun time beating your ass in the ring," the tiger replied with a smirk.

"Petit chat typique," Kaz replied, shaking her head, "Always with the big ego..."

Rickie raised an eyebrow at that. "Sorry, weren't you the one who started yelling at me out of nowhere in a public space and made me slam my face in a locker?"

"Yeah, and?"

She held back a scream as they both slowed their pace to a stop, but managed to calm herself down enough. "You are so lucky I didn't beat the piss out of you right then and there..." Rickie glared into the rat's eyes as she growled and bared her teeth a little.

While Kaz did get a little intimidated by this, she kept her cool. "Calme toi mon amour, you'll get your beating in the ring soon enough," she teased, giving the tiger a wink as she continued walking forward, not having the slightest clue where she's going.

After getting another good look at that cute, little rat ass in those tight shorts to calm her down, Rickie quickly caught up with her to give her direction. She didn't do so out of desire, but more to protect her establishment so that this rat bitch won't sabotage or vandalize anything. As they continued walking and both bantering with each other, Rickie wondered if Kaz is putting this "bad bitch" look and attitude just for show and is really hiding some insecurity - she could also be putting on this appearance because that's how she expresses herself and that's that.

Whatever the reason was, something about this rat attracted her. What that thing is exactly, she hadn't the slightest clue.

* * *

After some time, they made their way to the backstage area and in one of the locker rooms. Given the gender-inclusive nature of IFO, Rickie had the men's and women's locker rooms signs replaced with typical "all genders" signs and remodeled so that anyone of any gender identity could feel comfortable changing in them. Upon entering, one would think these are just typical locker rooms: a couple benches spaced out and a wall of lockers on one side right in front of them, a pair of sinks and three toilets to their direct left. But what makes it a bit unique is that, around behind the wall of lockers are four private showers with curtains and three private changing rooms. There was also another door directly across from where they stood at the entrance to the locker room that led into another hallway that led to more of the backstage area and the arena itself.

"Alrighty then," Rickie said, flopping her bag down on the bench then unzipping it, "Grab yourself a locker if you need. I'll be around the corner getting changed into my gear." She pulled out her signature orange leotard, with a bit of the triple pinstripe design showing in its folded-up state.

"And why can't you change in front of moi? Hmmm?" The rat teased, placing a hand on her hip.

"And spoil the fun?" Rickie asked, smirking as she grabbed her pads and stacked them on top of the leotard.

"Hmmm, that's fair~" She replied, watching the tiger walk away, tail raised and swaying gently behind her. She licked her lips as she ogled that thick, tough ass and those thunder thighs of the tiger - those fitted jeans only accented the tiger's legs. Kaz leaned back against a locker, unzipped her jacket, and started rubbing her pussy through her shiny shorts and fondled one of her breasts, gently held by a shiny sports bra.

"Oh merde~" The rat quietly moaned as she played with herself. She had to cut her private fun short as she quickly picked the first locker she saw, took off her jacket, and tossed it in - there will be time for fun later. Considering she was already wearing her gear on the way here, she impatiently waited for the tiger to change. She didn't have to wait for too long, however. Upon seeing the tiger in her wrestling gear, Kaz felt a pit in her stomach form and her bad bitch mentality fading away. She vaguely remembered how the tiger's body looked at the gym, but that shiny, orange leotard made all her muscles pop. Even though she wasn't that much taller than Kaz, it was clear she was built like a tank and she began having second thoughts on stepping in the ring with her.

"Mmmm, love wearing this thing~" Rickie cooed as she felt herself up a bit before tossing her street clothes in a locker. She then reached in her bag again and pulled out a small container and bottle. Not once did she take notice how much of her cleavage showed now or how speechless her rat jobber became all of a sudden. "Just let me pop in my contacts and we'll be all set!" As she walked back around the corner, it was more apparent how built the tiger's ass and thighs looked being more exposed. The leotard seemed to wedge up so much it almost looked like a thong than a cheeky bottom.

"Oui, mon amour~" The rat teased in response, trying to build up her bad bitch appearance again. She was about to play with herself again but didn't expect Rickie to return so soon, now without glasses.

"Alright, I should be all set now," she said, quickly putting her contact supplies back in the bag and shoving it in her locker.

"And here I thought you'd be more peculiar with everything."

"Yeah, not really." She slammed the locker closed and locked it out of habit, even if her and the rat were the only two in the building as far as she knew. When she went to guide her soon-to-be-jobber to the main arena, she was finally able to get a good look at her gear. She remembered seeing those jade-colored, knee-high boots and black fingerless gloves, though the rest of her gear made sense and complemented those well. She had on a pair of tight but shiny, black shorts with a jade trim and waistband and a sports bra made of the same material and similarly designed. Her gear also had some simple markings on the sides that were the same jade color. Rickie had to admit, the accents of her gear complemented the rat's emerald eyes quite well.

The trip to the hallway leading to the arena wasn't that far from the locker rooms. They passed through a set of double doors leading to a sort of anteroom before one would pass through a dark curtain into the arena itself. Once they got to this section, Rickie poked her head through the curtain to check on the main arena. Though it was quite dark as only security lights were on, she could see that the arena was already set for a wrestling match. However, she could've sworn she heard...something coming from the stands...it sounded like there were multitudes of whatever it was - it sounded like a quiet chittering noise.

"That better not be what I think it is..." She thought as she backed up into the ante room and turned to Kaz. "Alright wait here while I--"

Suddenly she heard the arena lights pop on row after row, making her stop and quickly turn around. Poking her head out from behind the curtain again, she was appalled at what she saw in the stands. Needless to say, it was a full house of rodents of all types: the majority of them consisted of rats, mice, squirrels, chipmunks, hamsters, though she did notice a few chinchillas, capybaras, and several other more exotic species that belonged to this order. All of them were dressed similarly to Kaz, giving off that punk anarchist mob vibe.

"And now I'm gonna have to call an exterminator," she thought as she backed up once again, though this time she reeled on Kaz and backed her against the wall, her fur and tail standing up on end.

"I thought this was going to be private!" She growled through gritted teeth and was ready to punch her head in.

"Maise mademoiselle putain! This is private! I just invited a few friends is all~"

"A few!?" Rickie went to grab the smaller rat by the throat to pin her there and was about to actually punch her head in when she heard a familiar voice that was feminine, but had an air of grit to it.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Those in between and those who aren't! We have a special match for you tonight!"

"No..." Rickie uttered as she saw her own referee, Chris, a small least weasel, donning their official uniform of a striped, referee shirt but without the black pants. In fact, they weren't wearing underwear either and letting their bottom half be exposed for all to ogle at.

"Tonight will prove once and for all you rodents aren't vermin! You shouldn't be hunted by these so-called 'predators' and their natural instincts!"

The crowd cheered and jeered in response.

"Tonight will prove that one of your kind can handle themselves and take down one of these predators single-handedly! That you will not stand for their tyranny or authority!"

As she heard Chris' voice booming through the loudspeakers, Rickie softened up and felt her heart sink as she let the rat go. "Why would one of my own referees agree to this? They aren't even a rodent!" She then stared daggers at Kaz.

"How?"

The rat just shrugged, giving the tiger a cocky, shit-eating grin.

Rickie growled, wanting to beat up the rat right then and there, but focused her attention back to Chris' speech. She had to admit, the kid can hype up a crowd.

"The rules for the match are simple: win by pinfall, submission, knockout, or orgasm however possible. Each wrestler will place a wager that they must follow through with, depending if they win or lose."

"Wait! This wasn't part of--"

"And now! For your first contender of the evening! The Aussy-Franco anarchist herself! Thrash!"

Immediately Thrash whipped through the curtains, basking in the glow of the audience whooping and hollering and cheering and the thrashing, French punk rock sound of "Djihad propaganda" blasting through the loudspeakers. Eventually they chanted her name all the way until she stepped through the black ropes, standing on the giant, fist paw logo in the middle of the ring over a blue canvas. She snatched the mic from Chris and silently told the crowd to simmer down.

"Bonne soirée mes amis rongeurs! As this handsome bloke said, I will prove to you all we are capable of single-handedly taking down these bigger predators! And what big predator than a 'scary' tiger!"

The crowd cheered and laughed in response, but quickly quieted down so Thrash could continue her speech.

"Not only is this putain a tiger, but she's the one who owns and operates this arena! We can't have that, now can we?"

Again, the crowd cheered, though many booed as well.

"Once I'm through with her, I'll take over as the new owner of the IFO arena and the organization! I mean, I even convinced one of her own referees to join me on this endeavor!" She smiled evilly at Chris, who in turn did the same back.

There was a multitude of _Ooooo_s in response.

"Just wait until you see what I'll do to that stripy CUNT!!!" And with that, she handed the mic back to Chris, basking more in the glow of the crowd cheering her on as she went to go wait in one of the corners, all of which had orange padding.

Chris looked at the rat for a moment, a bit appalled at what she called Rickie, but went on with what they agreed to. "And now! Her opponent for this evening! Owner of the International Fighting Organization! Thunder Tiger!"

Unlike Thrash, Thunder Tiger calmly walked out from behind the curtain to nothing but boos and jeers from the crowd. Thankfully, the adrenaline pumping metal sounds of "Drop Dead Cynical" blasting through the loudspeakers drowned out the crowd. Regardless if she could hear them or not, there were some who threw whatever they had in their paws towards her, though most were too far to even reach her or just landed by her feet. She paid no mind and kept her calm gait down the ramp and to the ring, way less energetic than she usually does coming down the ramp - her eyes were entirely focused on the rat bitch. Once she entered the ring, she too snatched the mic from Chris while silently making it clear to the weasel she was furious with their decision.

She was about to say something but the booing and jeering from the crowd continued as she just stood there with the mic in her paw. A few moments passed and the tiger just gave the mic back to the traitorous weasel, then stuck out her middle fingers as she backed away a bit, one towards Chris, the other towards Thrash. Of course, the crowd's boos became louder when she did that.

The weasel took a moment to process what their employer just did, though still unsure how much of this situation is all kayfabe and how much is real. Still, they were getting paid for this regardless.

"Well...now that we're all here. As you know, this is a no-holds-barred match, winning by pinfall, submission, knockout, or orgasm. Anything goes. However, you must be in the ring to win. Got it?"

They both nodded, too focused and impatient to tear at each other.

"You may also present a wager and you both must agree to it and follow through. Understand?"

Again, they both nodded. Thrash hopped on her toes a bit while Thunder Tiger shook her limbs loose to ease tension.

"Alright, Thrash. Whatcha got?" They said, pointing the microphone at the rat.

"If I win, which I will, this petite chatte is gonna choke on a fat strapon and I'll call her my little sea turtle as she chokes on plastic."

The crowd laughed and even Chris did as well. While Thunder Tiger wasn't too keen on this, it did turn her on a little.

"But that's not all. This petite chatte will also be wearing a humiliating costume while doing it! And..." She paused for a moment, mostly for dramatic effect. "You all get to witness this!"

Again the crowd cheered for their so-called champion. The tiger, however, wasn't all that thrilled, wincing at the idea of having to dress in a cheesy, slutty costume and being humiliated in front of everyone. She could feel her stomach start to sink and her heart ache, but still tried to keep her cool and intimidating appearance.

The weasel turned the mic back to themself. "Alright, well, that will be quite the sight to see if that happens," they said, chuckling nervously. They now pointed the mic towards the tiger. "And you, Thunder Tiger?"

"Simple. You spend a night on the town with me."

The crowd started to boo but quickly became more confused. Even Chris and Thrash showed their confusion.

"But..." She continued, "You have to wear a pretty, little cocktail dress!"

Everyone gasped.

"High heels!"

*GASP*

"A cute little purse!"

*GASP*

"All pink and pretty!"

Among the collective gasps, there was a sound of a few fainting in the crowd. Even Thrash was backing away at the thought of having to do this and second-guessing her decision.

"Oh! And the best part?"

There was a pause. Thunder Tiger waited until the crowd was in a complete hush before continuing.

"You have to wear makeup!"

Again, the crowd collectively gasped then booed and jeered again.

Chris turned the mic back to themselves once again and was silent for a moment. They then looked to Thrash, who was trying not to have a panic attack, then back to Thunder Tiger. "So...could you let me know where you two may be later if that happens?"

The tiger stifled a chuckle as she nodded while the crowd continued to boo, now turning against the weasel for their double betrayal. "I'll text ya!" She said, though not into the mic.

"Well, there you have it, folks!" The weasel announced, turning their attention to the crowd, despite the boos, "The wages are in! Let's get down and dirty, shall we?" With that, the weasel handed the mic to a random mouse, unknown to Thunder Tiger, who was immediately ringside and acted like they worked here. Chris quickly got back in the middle of the ring in case the two ladies go at each other before the starting bell.

"Ladies..." They said as they waved their arms to beckon them to come closer. "You know the rules. You know the wages. Have fun you lovebirds~" With that, Chris gave the signal to start the match.

*DING*

The bell rings and the two immediately go after each other in an intense standing grapple, which was then quickly followed by a combo of kicks and trips as they try to overpower each other. Given Thunder Tiger's background in kickboxing and wrestling, it was no surprise when she easily gained the upper hand when she delivered a powerful kick to the rat's calf.

Despite Thrash starting to buckle from that, she managed to slip an arm out of the tiger's grip and slam her forearm right between the tiger's legs. Immediately, the tiger let go of her from the grapple and went down on her knees while holding her crotch. This then allowed Thrash to steady herself as she gripped the tiger's hair and shoving her muzzle into her musky shorts.

"Gonna beep you like a barcode, bitch!" She taunted as she began to grind her musky rat crotch against Thunder Tiger's muzzle.

Almost immediately both of them seemed to be really getting into it. Thunder Tiger struggled to resist basking in the rat's scent and just throwing this match, while Thrash began to grind more and more, forcing the tiger's muzzle to dig deeper into her crotch. However, to Thrash's shock and surprise, the tiger goes to grip the front of the rat's shorts and tears them open to expose her pussy for all to see, and immediately starts eating her out while giving her labia and clit little nibbles here and there. This only got the rat to get into it even more as she began to moan a little while gripping the tiger's hair harder.

Unbeknownst to her, Thrash didn't notice the tiger subtly standing herself up as she continued to eat her out. She didn't register those large tiger paws gripping behind her knees either. But suddenly getting lifted and slammed on her back to the mat snapped her out of her lust drunk daze, staring face to face with the orange-clad tiger who had a firm grip on her legs hovering above her. Before she had a chance to react, Thunder Tiger suddenly flipped her over on her stomach and bent her lower half back into a Boston crab.

"Sorry, what was that you said earlier?" The tiger asked sarcastically.

The rat growled and muttered curses in French as she tried to make a reach for the ropes, but found they were too far away as they were both still in the middle of the ring. She then saw the yellow-furred face of the weasel right next to her.

Chris was a little surprised at how quick this match may end when he knelt down by the rat, but he still had a job to do.

"You give?" He asked.

"NON!" Thrash yelled, furiously shaking her head while clawing at the canvas. She cried out as Thunder Tiger kept up the pressure and pulled back a bit more, making her really feel the hold in her spine. Thrash starts to get really pissed now, her eyes changing from normal, emerald eyes, to a completely solid crimson red as she frantically tries to figure a way out of this. She then looked upwards and saw what was right above and behind her with a wicked grin on her face.

Meanwhile, Thunder Tiger squatted there comfortably with the rat's legs in her arms, enjoying the rat's frustration and waiting for her to submit. But she soon felt something sharp poke and scratch at her half-naked butt, making her suddenly let go and hop away from the rat.

"Ow! Hey!" She yelled, rubbing her butt and not paying attention to her opponent. She only noticed a little bit of blood on her paw pads but nothing concerning. "Fucking rat bitch..." She muttered.

With the tiger distracted, Thrash slowly gets up at first while holding her lower back, but quickly turns around and charges at the tiger in a fit of rage. She suddenly shoulder checks Thunder Tiger with all her might, sending her into the ropes with her back still turned. Thrash then kicks the back of one of Thunder Tiger's knees to buckle her and make her rest between the middle and top ropes, setting her up for her signature move "La Guillotine". She then immediately flips up and over the top rope and slams the back of her boot right into the tiger's face, but ends up falling out of the ring in the process, landing onto the padded concrete.

It didn't matter that much though, as Thunder Tiger was left quite dazed from that. She immediately reeled back out from the ropes while holding her muzzle, getting back on her feet and immediately went back to the side where Thrash fell off. However, she didn't see her at all. She then frantically checked all other sides of the ring to try and jump her, as she figured Thrash scurried beneath the ring.

And scurried away she did.

Thrash kept quiet under the ring, trying to gauge where Thunder Tiger was, which wasn't all that hard given her heavier build and footsteps. Quiet, silent, using what stealth skills she had from her past military experience, Thrash emerged from below on one side of the ring opposite of the tiger, wielding a wooden baseball bat. With the same techniques, Thrash tried to be sneaky and climb in the ring, hoping the tiger wouldn't notice.

While Thunder Tiger didn't notice Thrash climbing back in the ring, she did detect her footsteps. Her ears perked at the sound and the vibrations of the rat due to her seismic sense, turning on her heels in response and ready to keep fighting.

"I knew you'd tried to--SHIT!"

What she didn't expect was for a wooden bat to come at her face as fast as a right hook. Instinctively, she got her arms up as the bat came whistling through the air and slamming both of her forearms.

"Aghh! FUCK! FUCK! FU--"

*CRACK*

Another swing from the bat, this time landing on its intended target, knocking the tiger back and making her collapse on her knees. Her face and arms seared and stung with pain, both of which were possibly broken, as her nose bled even more now. She struggled to keep her paws up to cover her nose to stop the bleeding, but even that was too much of an effort given their current state.

Thrash tossed her weapon aside and approached the tiger.

"Now, where were we?"

She then grabs the tiger's head and shoves her into her exposed pussy, immediately beginning to grind exactly like before but with more vigor. Thrash took pleasure in the tiger's frustration and rage as she stuffed that bleeding muzzle into her crotch. Thinking about how easily she dominated and overpowered such a big tiger got her going, making her get lust drunk once again.

"Oh merde~" She moaned. "Take it you barcode bitch~"

It wasn't at all pleasurable this time with how much her muzzle stung and bled, let alone her other injuries keeping her mind occupied. But once she managed to get her head straight enough, especially since she wasn't all there by this point, she suddenly thrusted her claws into both the rat's thighs, digging into her flesh and muscle.

With a yelp followed by a growl, Thrash immediately stopped and stepped back as her legs burned a little from those claws. It didn't matter to her, though. In a fit of rage, she countered by kicking the tiger in the face with the bottom of her boot as she saw her slowly get back up, causing more damage to her muzzle. However, she was shocked with how much Thunder Tiger could take after seeing her still attempting to stand. She growled and threw a kick to the tiger's side, but didn't anticipate it to be grabbed by her just before contact.

"How..." She muttered in response as the tiger was getting up quick.

Suddenly, Thunder Tiger threw several hard kicks to the rat's calf and thigh, all while still holding her leg. Despite the pain and numbness in her arms, she barely managed to rotate herself to slam the elevated leg against a knee before letting go. Given Thrash's reaction to that, she figured she may have sprained or broken something. Good. That made it easier for her to grab one of the rat's arms and pull her inward and through an Irish whip right into one of the turnbuckles, even though Thrash tried to reverse it. Of course, this didn't help ease the pain in her arms at all, but she was determined to win by this point - her biggest investment and most prized possession was on the line. She wasn't going to let some puny punk steal it from her.

Right after she flung the rat into the turnbuckle, making her collapse in a sitting position, Thunder Tiger charged at her, spun around, and smashed her head in with her seated senton move known as the "Thunder Clap." After she thrashed Thrash's skull and neck with her fat ass, she started to rub her butt into the rat's face for an added humiliation - though knowing this bitch, she's most likely enjoying this.

And indeed she was. Thrash got lost in having such a nice, plump ass rubbing and crushing her face that she started to play with herself right there. While she got lost in this lust drunk state twice during this match already, the small, rational side of her reminded her she had a match to win. After all, with how the tiger has handled her so far and her tenacity and endurance, Thrash realized the big cat wasn't going down without a fight. And so, for the third time in this match, she suddenly threw her arm upwards and slammed it against Thunder Tiger's coochie as hard as she could.

Yet, unlike the last two times, this barely deterred the tiger at all.

While she did get some relief from being crushed between tiger ass and the hard ring post and padding, Thrash was quickly met with a series of blows via foot paw before she even had a chance to get up. Over and over Thunder Tiger smashed in her face, her chest, and her crotch in quick, powerful secession. She could barely defend herself against the onslaught, realizing by now she underestimated the tiger's power and speed. Now it was her turn to bleed.

Thunder Tiger wasn't done with her just yet. Even though Thrash finally got relief from those powerful, crushing paw pads, she was suddenly being dragged by her ears towards the center of the ring, kicking and screaming and clawing at those striped arms.

Thankfully, the rat was fairly light enough, so dragging her along wasn't as strenuous on her numb arms. It still stung enough, though. At least she didn't have to drag Thrash very far. Once she figured they were far enough away from the ropes, Thunder Tiger quickly got her legs around the rat's tiny neck in a scissor hold and fell to the side of her. Of course, the kicking and screaming and clawing from the rat bitch didn't stop, but at least one of her tiny arms was crushed by her weight. She then reached over to try and grab at Thrash's booted ankles.

"Gggghhh...let...me go!"

Got the right one.

"E-Espèce de chatte stupide!"

Got the left one.

"Non! Agghh!"

Using whatever strength she had left in her arms, Thunder Tiger pulled the rat's legs apart in a spladle-like maneuver as wide as she could in yet another signature move. This one was arguably her finisher, and for good reason.

"You're getting a Timeout!"

Thrash could barely squirm now as she slowly starts to lose consciousness, feeling somewhat humiliated that her wet pussy is wide open for all to see as her inner thighs burned in agony from the "Timeout." All she saw were the lights above her slowly starting to fade as she struggled to not get choked out from this. She barely registered the yellow weasel once again kneeling next to her and asking her the same thing earlier in the match.

"You give?"

Again, she furiously shakes her head, making the scissor hold crush her throat even more. "N-Non! Non! N...Non..." She protested.

In her fury, Thrash grabbed at the tiger's leg that crushed her throat. Realizing she still had an arm free and still having plenty of fight left in her, she clawed and scratched that leg deep. She'd make that leg go from the grey, green striped fur, to stripped, crimson flesh if that's what it took to get out of this. She'd expose the tiger's shin bone if she needed to.

While her furious scratching didn't go that far, Thrash did enough damage to force the tiger to break the hold. As Thunder Tiger let go, she kneed the rat's head before making another attempt to get up, struggling even more between her injured arms and now one of her legs. But it was getting to that point where she wasn't sure how much more she could take, now only able to make it to one knee. She never had a chance to even look up as a booted heel smashed the back of her head, slamming her back on the mat, prone, and starting to black out. She didn't register Chris completing the countdown for a KO, nor the bell ringing to signal the end of the match. She simply laid there, keeping her breathing steady enough to stay somewhat awake and letting her body rest for a moment. She barely heard Thrash giving some big speech and hurling more insults, but that didn't matter.

Something inside her stirred. Or simply awakened? Whatever it was, Thunder Tiger had a sudden burning rage. "You may have won this match, bitch, and sure I may have to wear some stupid costume or whatever...but this is MY arena, and that is MY referee!" Her eyes scanned the ring and laying there near the ring edge, covered in her blood, was that wooden bat. She then noticed Chris stood near her one paw and gently tugged on his pant leg to get his attention.

The weasel half glanced downward but knew exactly what to do. He then glanced upward at a large, silhouetted figure in the AV booth, subtly moving his index finger as if he was flicking off a light switch.

Thrash kept on with her speech, completely unaware what was going on. "We will revolutionize the--HEY!!"

The whole arena went dark.

The audience immediately began screaming and panicking. Murmurs exchanged among them on what just happened and why. Sudden power outage? Circuit breaker? Sabotage?

The whole arena lit back up as if nothing happened.

Nothing except a blood covered tiger, wooden bat in her paws, positioned right behind Thrash as if she was at bat for a baseball game.

The audience screamed in terror for Thrash to turn around, but it was too late.

*CRACK*

A powerful swing of the bat smashed her face in as if the tiger was going for a home run. Her limp body flung backwards in an unconscious, bloody mess as the mic flew from her tiny paw.

With the blood-soaked bat in one paw, Rickie went to grab the mic from the mat and checked if it was on.

"You all have ten FUCKING minutes to get the FUCK out of here or else I'm calling the cops!!!" With that, she then tossed the mic aside and motioned for Chris to follow her. There was no music or boos or jeers as she clumsily got out of the ring and hobbled back up the ramp back to the backstage area. She even confiscated the bat and took that with her too.

Everyone else frantically fled the arena. Rickie and Chris were backstage and heading to the locker room. All of them left Kaz laying on the bloody, blue canvas of the arena, completely knocked out and bleeding from her nose and mouth.

* * *

Not a word was shared between him and his manager when they got back to the locker room. All Chris did was help the battle-beaten tiger undress and make sure she didn't collapse on her way to the shower. When he made sure Rickie would be okay showering alone, and after the aforementioned ten minutes passed, the weasel went to check if everyone left the arena. Not a single rodent could be seen in the seats or hiding, as far as he could tell, and he had naturally strong eyesight and hearing. No one else was left in the arena except for him and...

"Oh boy..." He sighed when he saw Kaz's current state, walking at his usual gait at first but quickly broke into a sprint towards the ring. The rat punk was awake but struggled to get up, despite not being as beaten up as the tiger. Right away, however, Chris saw her face caked in a splatter of blood, and her compression shorts practically falling off after being shredded.

"Here, let me help you." Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the rat up to a standing position and, just like he did with Rickie, aided her out of the ring and all the way backstage. "Shit, she's really got a good swing, doesn't she?"

Kaz was too dazed to really think or speak, but she did manage a chuckle at that.

"She used to play little league as a cub, so...yeah," he said, simply trying to make some friendly conversation, as the majority of their walk was quiet. "You seem cool, Kaz. You've definitely got a stronger punk vibe and attitude than me," he chuckled.

She smiled, though winced at how much her face hurt. That didn't stop her from letting her tail curl around his shorter one as she held onto him a little tighter than necessary.

Chris was generally good at not showing a reaction to any form of affection, but something about this rat made it much harder for him to hide his feelings. Still, he did hide those from Kaz as they continued through the backstage area and into the locker room.

All that could be heard was the running of one of the showers as the steam from it nearly filled the whole locker room, overpowering the vent fans in the ceiling. Rickie's sweaty, bloody leotard and pads lay haphazardly over the bench and on the floor in front of her locker, and a small trail of blood led from that and around the other side of the locker room. Chris let out a sigh when he saw that mess, as he remembered he'll have to clean and sanitize the floors and ring as soon as possible, as per protocol. "Why can't that stupid bear clean up the messes for once? Why does it always have to be me or Hanna?"

As he stared at the mess in front of him, he hadn't noticed Kaz already stripped and left him, judging from the black and jade sports bra, ripped shorts, boots, and gloves laying in a pile on the floor. When he turned around, he growled a little as he went to the utility closet in the back of the locker room to get some cleaning supplies for the ring. "I ain't picking up your shit, alright!" He yelled as he left the locker room.

Rickie was never really cleaning up. She just stood there, letting the shower soak her hair and fur as the warm water soothed her aching muscles and washed out her wounds. The little trail of blood from her face led right into the stall she currently occupied, and she just let her nose bleed out until it couldn't anymore. The whole floor of the stall now had a thin puddle of crimson water that slowly seeped through the drain at her feet. Her whole body ached, and her arms were too injured to support her against the wall or even move to scrub her hair and fur. All she could do was lean on the tile wall against her shoulder.

Then that cheating, rotten, dirty rat bitch poked her head in from behind the curtain with a stupid, cheeky grin. She kept the rest of her body hidden, and most of her facial features were difficult to see, as she too had a face caked with blood.

"What...ack," the tiger growled, though winced when she tried to move, "What the fuck do you want with me now?"

"I figured you needed some help, madame," Kaz replied.

Rickie growled a little, though more at trying to keep herself upright on her own. It was now she noticed how much those strikes to her groin hurt without all that adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"I think you've 'helped' me enough," she scowled, immediately propping herself against a wall again by her shoulder. "Fucking bitch..."

"Hey! If I was a fucking bitch, why am I am here offering to help you right now?"

Rickie just stared down for a moment. She let her eyes wander around unfocused at the state of her body right now. It was here she also noted how roomy it was in one of these stalls - she did have to accommodate for as many body types as possible for the fighters, after all. There was room for one more - she could use the company anyway.

"Wellll...petit chatte~"

She sighed and nodded for the rat to join her.

In one, fluid motion, Kaz stepped over the small barrier between the shower stall and the locker room floor while swinging the curtain around her to reveal her nude body all at once. As Rickie imagined, she was fairly lithe and not all that muscular, and not as busty but just as curvy. However, she hadn't noticed the various scars all over the rat's small body before, and not the ones she gave her. Rickie also noticed the rat's left arm looked like it was burned all the way to her elbow - while she was curious about this, she felt it best not to ask.

Immediately Kaz started to caress and massage the tiger's biceps and shoulders. As battle-damaged as she was, they felt like they held a lot of power and were quite impressive. She then moved her tiny paws over the tiger's breasts, giving them a gentle caress and massage. When she looked up to see Rickie's reaction, she giggled a little at how blissful the tiger looked.

"Clearly you're enjoying this~"

"Mmhmm..."

"Just so I'm sure, madame," she said as she rubbed the tiger's obliques and small muscle gut, "You want me to help clean you up?"

She slowly nodded. "Just please be gentle. You really did a number on me back there."

Kaz blushed a little, though, again, it was hard to tell with that dried crimson smeared all over her face. Without a word, she dispensed a couple pumps from the shampoo dispenser in the stall into her paw and scrubbed the tiger down. As she did, she tried to balance how hard she scrubbed, depending on the area. She also took this time to worship those tiger muscles and physique, especially those massive thighs - it was here she realized how much Rickie was built like a tank, even if she didn't quite look it. For the most part, she could tell Rickie was enjoying this, even when she went over her more severed wounds and injuries. Though when she reached the groin area, she immediately stopped when the tiger growled at her and looked like she was going to swipe a claw.

"Désolée..."

Rickie let out a panicked breath. "Yeah, no...You've done enough damage down there tonight, missy!"

"Fair enough," she said with a shrug and continued to scrub, this time getting her muscular back. "You know, I've been thinking, mon amour...We're not so different, you and I. You do what it takes to win. So do I. You're a bonafide villain like me. Difference is..." She paused and got close to the tiger's ear, her voice getting quieter but also sultry and with a hypnotic flair. "I got the balls to admit that I am~" She then gave one last, playful scrub to the tiger's scalp and firm swat on her fat ass, getting a surprised yelp from her. "Think about it..."

Kaz rinsed off any suds on her and left behind the curtain to go dry off and change. As she did, however, Rickie quickly pulled the curtain back, hoping to catch her before she turned the corner.

"Hey rat!"

Kaz turned back around partially, not caring her full back and butt were facing the tiger. "Oui?"

"I, um, I don't think I caught your name. I mean, aside from your ring name, of course." She chuckled nervously.

The rat just smiled, turning herself around a bit more. "Friends call me Kaz. And you? Quel est ton nom?"

"Rickie," she replied. Even if she didn't understand French at all, she somewhat understood what all Kaz would say when she did speak in that tongue.

She chuckled. "Well, I hope we meet again, Rickie," she replied with a wink. She made sure the tiger got a good look at her backside before rounding the corner, leaving her soapy and wet and with a lot of confusing questions.