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Jhonkolons on FurAffinity has been kind enough to both me as an 'artist', as well as all of you readers, to commission a PART TWO to his previous Fox Vs. Wolf story... though you'll find this is somewhat a prequel-sequel.

Please go send him some thanks if you're a fan of this Fox Vs Wolf story, he's the whole reason you get to read it!

Now for some copy/pasted ooc stuff since I can't be bothered to write descriptions apparently LOL.

Before we get onto the story I want to clarify that, while sharing the same basic title "Fox McCloud (Starfox) Vs Wolf O'Donnell" as well as it's original nickname title, "Star-crossed Warriors", this story is actually NOT a sequel, or "Part 3" to my prior two Fox vs Wolf stories AKA 'universe one', viewable here https://www.furaffinity.net/view/34863055/ and here https://www.furaffinity.net/view/35038478/ . This is a sequel to universe two, aka https://www.furaffinity.net/view/43199569/ This is an original story taking place in the same fantasy arena I've created (Beast Wars Wrestling) and only shares the name "Star-crossed Warriors" as the first two stories because I'm hella proud of that and don't want to have to make a new creative title every time someone new commissions me for Fox vs Wolf stories.

Now without further ado, enjoy a (hopefully well written despite my rust) pro wrestling story featuring everyone's favorite masc twink fox, Fox McCloud, and everyone's favorite "Ex-Military Uncle" figure, Wolf O'Donnell! ;3

Oh! And fair warning, the commissioner requested a heavy focus on Wolf's ass, so if you don't like big, masc lupine bubble butts, there's the door! ^> You've been warned! Enjoy!

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Big. Mean. Angry.

Graceful. Sleek. Divine.

Forged from steel.

Sculpted by God himself.

Incomparable. Powerful. Untouchable.

These were the words and phrases used to describe the large, rock hard, grey-furred and often blue-covered set of gluteal muscles that belonged to Wolf O' Donnell throughout his career. However lately...

Squishy.

Soft.

Jiggly.

FAT.

The description of O' Donnell's gluteals had changed in the eyes of the Beast Wars Wrestling fanbase ever since his first loss to Fox McCloud about four months back.

While Fox had moved on from their rivalry after completely decimating Wolf in a rematch for his championship belt, O'Donell on the other hand had become stagnant in his career. It seemed that the harder he tried to climb the ranks and re-establish himself as top dog, the harder he fell.

At first the audience, while excited over the increasing nudity of the long reigning champion, reserved their applause in sympathy for the old lupine. Even if he was a heel, he had dedicated years of himself to the company after all, at least that's how most saw things. However after punishing loss after humiliating, punishing loss, even the wolf's most diehard fans began to lose interest and grow... unattached.

Before long, the proud, alpha-male warrior who had ruled the entire Beast Wars Wrestling federation with an iron fist for years...

was now just another forgotten member of the jobbers' bracket.

The lowest point of O'Donnell's career would come when he would be faced against another jobber for a makeshift belt, "The Ultimate Jobber Championship", which consisted of a thrift store bought black leather belt, with the word "TRASH" scrawled haphazardly in white tape wrapped around the center. The managers and promoters had initially been joking when they came up with the idea, really just wanted to punish the two ex-starwolf members for their bad attitudes backstage. However, once the audience caught wind of the match and got a look at the belt, the views for the jobbers division skyrocketed. For the first time in O'Donnells career since his losses to Fox McCloud, he was pulling main event numbers.

The night was ablaze with photography flashes as Wolf O' Donnell strolled down to the ring, glaring out from his uncovered eye, although the intimidated responses were completely absent from front-row crowd members, replaced now only with cat-calls and mocking laughter. A few rowdier fans even reached out to smack Wolf on his blue derriere, commenting with taunts that Wolf now heard far too often.

"You wearing your thong today?"

"Might as well switch your trunks to pink too!"

"This is the last title you're ever gonna win HAHAHA!!!"

Even in O'Donnell's arrogant mind, he had to wonder if the last remark, made by that sneering delinquent fan were true.

Leon was already waiting in the ring. Having never won a championship, and having only skated into the federation on O'Donnell's coattails, he had been considered the lowest of the low for as long as anyone could remember.

However, with a couple dings of the bell, an eye rake, a low blow and a roll up, all of those things changed forever.

O'Donnell was squashed, and in record time. Twenty two seconds flat. It was the fastest win of Leon's career; perhaps the fastest match in Beast Wars Wrestling history. Just another thing O'Donnell would be remembered for.

"Aaand your winner, with a stunning upset, the lowly lizard himself... LEON!!!" The announcer's deep voice rumbled with excitement throughout the arena, although crowd members were less than enthused. The audience had come expecting an epic match, though they were more than willing to share their disappointment through loud "BOO"s directed towards the two jobbers standing in the ring.

Wolf was already back on his feet, albeit now holding a sore blue bulge, as he stared in disbelief at his former subordinate. Then, as chants began to form into a coherent phrase, "THAT WAS AWFUL! THAT WAS AWFUL!" Leon merely shrugged, reaching a hand out to shake his old commander's hand. However, as O'Donnell would find himself reluctantly and begrudgingly lowering his own hand to accept, Leon would fake-out the gesture by running a hand through his own smooth scalp, before exiting the ring. The gesture was welcomed with cheers as the lizard made his way to the back, before the booing was promptly returned, directly now solely at O'Donnell.

It was the lowest point in Wolf O'Donnell's career. Low blowed and humiliated by his own subordinate, disowned by nearly, if not all of his entire former fanbase, and struggling to process all of this while loud "YOU'RE PA-THE-TIC! YOU'RE PA-THE-TIC!" chants shoved themselves down his ear canals. However the worst part wasn't over; not by a long shot.

"Aaand tonights REAL winner, the winner of the... oh my god are we really doing this? Poor guy." The announcers voice was only faintly picked up by the microphone as he struggled and failed to hide his sympathy for the old wolf. "The winner of the... World Jobbing Championship... Wolf! O! DONNELLLL!!!"

It was then that the referee was handed that ridiculous joke of a 'title belt', the same old black leather, thrift store belt buckle with white tape wrapped around the center, and the word "TRASH" scrawled haphazardly across said tape in red marker that Wolf had seen backstage when the other wrestlers had been making bets on who the biggest loser would be tonight. Wolf knew, in that very moment, with as much despair as he felt, he was also making the wallets of most of the wrestlers backstage very happy right now. The thought filled Wolf with rage, so much so blush could be seen visibly covering his face as the refereee secured the 'title belt' around his waist, paying no mind as he grazed the injured blue bulge of the old wolf, summoning a small yelp in response. "Sorry sweet cheeks." The referee apologized half-earnestly with a prompt smack on Wolf's fat blue bubble ass before finally pulling away and stepping back, allowing the audience to behold their new undisputed jobber champion.

If Beast Wars Wrestling allowed rotten food beyond the gates, O'Donnell's body would have likely been colored red from all the rotten tomatoes being thrown at him in that very moment.

Fortunately and unfortunately, that wasn't what happened. Instead, what happened next made O'Donnell's life turn into a living hell.

The music of Fox McCloud suddenly blasted throughout the arena, and before long, the loud "BOO"s of the crowd turned into thunderous cheers, as everyone's favorite vulpine champion appeared on the stage, arms crossed with a smug smirk plastered across his face.

"Braaavooo!" Fox practically sang into the microphone, before giving Wolf a slow, mock clap. "Looks like after all this time, you've finally gotten your hands on another championship Wolf. How... fitting." He said the last remark dryly, the disappointment in his voice perfectly matching that of the fans. Wolf had fallen so far, so much so that it was now painful to watch, even for his biggest haters.

"I mean it though. Bravo to you for pulling in some numbers. The guys in the back said this was the most in-demand jobber match of the decade! Can you believe that? Of course, you still managed to mess it up and put on a boring, short disgrace of match." Fox shrugged with another smirk.

Meanwhile Wolf stood in the ring, leaning against the ropes and absolutely bristling with rage. The lupine's teeth were grit almost hard enough to crack, before he was handed his own microphone by the ref who, of course, gave his fat blue ass another 'encouraging' slap.

"Listen here you insufferable pretty boy! Just because you got a couple lucky victories on me a few months ago doesn't mean you get to come out here and call me a god damn jobber. I am the KING of this company!" Wolf spat out the words in a growling rage, but even he knew them untrue.

"Right." Fox McCloud said, letting the palpable awkwardness of the lupines pathetic delusions hang in the air for a long moment, before Fox continued. "Look Wolf, ah... I don't really know how to say this but..." Fox was scratching the back of his head, looking as uncomfortable as a doctor delivering life-altering bad news. "I don't exactly think you're fit to compete in this ring... ah, anymore, I mean." The tone and expression on Fox's face was earnest and concerned, though Wolf knew it nothing more than a facade.

"You shut your pretty little mouth McCloud, before I come up that ramp and-"

"And do what?" Fox shot back, interrupting Wolf, challenging the old has-been in front of the all-too-informed crowd. Wolf was visibly taken aback by Fox's interruption, as the handsome young vulpine continued to hammer into him. "We all know that you're a washed up, thirty or forty, maybe even fifty-something has-been whose living in the past. You can't get over your glory days of being a champion, but we've all forgotten!" Fox gestured to the crowd, who all roared in agreement. Finally Fox's emerald green eyes locked onto Wolf's as he delivered his verbal coup de grace. "The only championship you have now is that pathetic, thrift-store belt currently having above that big, perky ass of yours."

Even before O'Donnell spoke, the growl rumbling from his throat could be heard, slowly raising in volume until he finally snapped out with a snarl. "ENOUGH! YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME MCCLOUD? I'M RIGHT HERE!" Wolf snarled as Fox responded with more laughter.

"HAHA, A piece of you? I'll take the whole damn cake! Just say the time and I'll meet you back in the showers!" Fox smirked. "But if you're talking in the ring? No. Notta. Zip. You're done. You're washed up, old timer." Fox said, stone faced, while clearing his throat to accentuate the awkward truth.

"YOU AND ME IN AN 'I QUIT' MATCH, NEXT WEEK MCCLOUD!" Then suddenly, just as quickly as his roaring outburst had come out, Wolf O' Donnell was recieving cheers for the first time in as long as he could remember. "YOUR MISERABLE LITTLE FLASH IN THE PAN CAREER VERSUS MY LEGACY. WE'LL SEE WHO OWNS WHO AFTER THAT!" Despite Wolf's blatantly furrowed, angry eyebrows, he was now sporting a carnivorous grin as he looked at the stunned and jaw dropped fox on the stage. "What do you say, pup? You got the eggs to put your money where your pretty little mouth is?"

"I... I don't know." Fox looked down, stunned and silent for a moment, as if deep in thought, perhaps even a little bit of panic. "If I were to accept, then that would mean..." He choked, gulping audibly into the microphone, as Wolf continued to grin inside the ring. "Then that would mean I wouldn't get to see your sweet, perky old ass stuffed inside those cute little navy blue trunks backstage anymore!" McCloud's signature smirk continued as Wolf's grin dropped. "But then again, maybe it's time our relationship evolved from professional... to something a little more..." Fox reached down to cup, and openly adjust his increasingly swollen, green bulge, to the swoon of the crowd. "Personal." Fox licked his lips and cleared his throat, puffing out his chest as he gave his answer.

"I accept, though let's make the match no-DQ, and enable pin-fall as well, just incase I accidentally knock you out. And hell! Since I'm champion, I'll even surrender the belt to you if you win!" Fox stated the fact with a wide, innocent smile, not an ounce of worry on his face. "See you next week, Wolf, oh, and please, do wear something pretty underneath your trunks for your final match? Oh, as if I have to tell you. I'm sure you'll wear something sparkly and bright pink, just the way Daddy McCloud likes it!" Fox thrust his hips out for added effect as he hollered with enthusiasm into the mic.

All the while Wolf stood in the ring with a jaw dropped, borderline sweaty face at the raw, fearless machismo being presented as a response to his match idea. "F... Fuck you McCloud." Wolf growled with a slight crack in his voice.

"Next week, Wolf." Fox responded with a lick of his chops. "Next week."

Then, before the Beast Wars Wrestling universe knew it, an entire week had passed, and the time of the match was upon them. The arena was lit up in spectacular fashion with an energy like nothing ever seen before. Truly, this would be a fitting night for Wolf O Donnell to either reclaim his championship belt, or retire trying.

The pre-match ensemble of groupies flooding the backstage areas was, to no one's surprise, heavily in McCloud's favor. In fact, while McCloud was busy signing autographs, taking pictures and talking strategy with his managers, O'Donnell sat alone in his dressing room, sipping a dry martini, and even becoming relaxed enough to take a quick nap. In fact, by the time he woke up, the groupies were gone, and he only had mere minutes before the grandest event of his life. Standing up and making his way to the mirror, O'Donnell gave himself a sleezy grin and double bicep flex, before adjusting those suddenly too-tight feeling trunks and jockstrap underneath. He'd decided to go out tonight plain and simple, with a white jockstrap that couldn't do him any further humiliation if it were exposed. He'd planned ahead and thought of everything it seemed... though he failed to notice the door to his dressing room had already been unlocked as he exited and made his way down to the ring.

The entrances came and went, and while spectacular, with the highest budgets either had spent to date on various fireworks, lighting effects and even excess camera work, every member of the audience was hoping they would hurry along and get to the claw-biting action.

Fox's entrance was a green, brightly lit show of heroics and optimism with an upbeat rock and roll theme song to boot, while Wolf O' Donnell's was a sharp contrast: dark purple lighting with heavy metal music that exuded an egocentric sense of pride and bloodlust, it seemed the personalities of the two mammals couldn't be anymore different. The audience wondered who would prevail in this battle that was practically heaven versus hell.

Then finally, came the time for the referee, a white rabbit who was fit in his own right, to step between the two dangerous, muscled up combatants and raise Fox's title belt for all to see. The roars from the audience were unlike anything BWW had seen in recent years, though the inside of the ring was filled with dead silence.

Wolf glared at Fox through his uncovered eye, and the gesture was returned. There was no smirking, no taunting, no mind games, just a simple understanding between two combatants that this was the match that would change their careers forever.

The lupine's attire was different this time around: Beneath his black leather "trash" jobber belt was a bright purple set of trunks with a white Starwolf logo on the ass, with matching purple knee pads, wristbands and boots. It seemed the old canid had finally learned to at least somewhat embrace his recently exposed femenine side, though the attire was still masculine overall, especially on his pumped up, fiendish old body. The referee came and removed his poor excuse for a "belt", setting it haphazardly in his corner, paying no mind as it slumped outside of the ring completely, a truly worthless "accolade" for a seemingly worthless, washed up, old fighter.

Meanwhile Fox had changed up his attire for the occasion as well: the younger man's glorious, bubble-shaped buttocks stuffed into a set of black leather trunks with an almost neon green starfox logo on the back, the words "PLAYTIME'S OVER" in matching, bold text underneath. Like wolf, he wore his own matching set of wristbands, knee pads and boots, all made of leather and black in color. It seemed his attire took heavy inspiration from O'Donnell, though whether it was to pay homage to or mock his opponent was anyone's guess.

Then finally, the silence was broken, as the sound of the bell ringing echoed throughout the arena, just barely audible above the roaring, screaming fans.

O'Donnell got low, squatting with his big, giant muscled lupine ass filling and stretching out those glossy bright purple Starwolf trunks as he waited to circle with McCloud, only for the stern faced vulpine to stay leaning in his corner, arms crossed, and glaring at Wolf with serious, green eyes. Finally, that signature smug grin came to the corner of his handsome tan furred lips. "You look good, Wolf. Not a day past your prime."

Wolf paused, uncrouching slightly, but only slightly, still on guard as he raised a bushy white eyebrow at his opponent.

"I'm going to bed you tonight." McCloud continued with those same, serious green eyes locked onto Wolf's. "I'm going to give you what you've been missing, and I'm going to make you my wife." He stated it so matter of factly, Wolf almost thought it wasn't trash talk.

Wolf's ears twitched as he rebuttled, a smirk of his own coming across his face. "Ain't that so?" He said in a deep, cool, calm and collected tone. "See, that's not really my style, pup!"Wolf licked his dry lips, his gaze lowering over the younger competitors smooth, toned body. "Ya see, I'm more the kind of man to bash your face in, take my title back, and use YOUR ass every night as I give you the honor of being one of my groupies, or maybe just the occasional late night booty call."

Fox stared back silently for a moment, unspeaking as he glanced again down at Wolf's body. He could see the feint outline of that green jockstrap poking out from Wolf's bright purple trunks, and the young vulpine couldn't help but reach down to adjust the crotch of his own leather trunks as they began to grow tight.

Then they were off! Fox finally removed his toned young back from the corner and quickly began to circle with Wolf in the ring. The tails of both men were wagging wildly in excitement in adrenaline, alongside the thousands of fans watching in attendance as the moment everyone had been waiting for finally commenced.

Quick as ever, the young vulpine shot forward, looking for an early rear waistlock around his opponent, perhaps looking to taunt the old wolf, only to have the old space pirate ram an elbow straight back into the younger man's temple, breaking the hold!

"You'll need to try better than that this time, pup. I'm not going to be going to get cocky and go easy on you like last time." O' Donnell sneered as he walked up, grabbing McCloud by the neck scruff,, and ramming his handsome face into the top turnbuckle once, twice, three times, before letting the young stud fall onto his knees, facing the corner.

"I'm gonna choke you out, hit you with the goddamn Wolf-Wiper and fuck your unconscious body so hard the straight guys in the audience are gonna be jealous." Wolf snorted with sincerity, grabbing McClouds neck scruff and placing his head over the second rope. The bigger competitor then raised one of his mighty silver furred legs up and pressed his knee into the back of McCloud's head, choking the younger competitor across the second rope.

The audience watched stunned, but not so much that they forgot to boo as they saw their hero being manhandled in clearly dirty fashion so early on in the match. However majority of the crowd wasn't worried, they knew it was commonplace for a baby face like McCloud to come back from a dirty assault and secure the victory, though this particular strangulation seemed to go on a bit too long.

McCloud's green eyes were soon turning red, along with the rest of his face as his oxygen levels fell short, and his struggling began too slow. Wolf shouted loud enough for the audience to hear. "Come on McCunt! Do that hero thing you like to do, where you come back at the last second! You can't let this be a TOTAL fucking squash!" And just like that, Wolf's signature gleaming grin was plastered back on his face, to the audience's horror.

"DISQUALIFY HIM REF! C'MON!!!" Some angry crowd members in the front shouted in vain, the ref having no real power in this no disqualification match. All the man could do was stand there and watch O' Donnell's big, powerful purple covered ass rest atop McCloud's perky, black leather covered ass as the latter began to slow its struggling.

Then, to the audience's astonishment and horror, it stopped completely.

"CHECK HIM REF! LOOKS LIKE FOXY BOY'S ALL TUCKERED OUT AND READY FOR DADDY TO PUT HIM TO BED!" If O'Donnell's uncovered eye could talk, it would speak volumes of pure pride and satisfaction as his grin grew even bigger, staring out into the sea of disappointed, borderline rioting fans who were watching their hero get beaten in a matter of five measly moves.

Doing as he was told, the ref walked over and grabbed McCloud's limp wrist, expecting the young main eventer to retaliate by smacking his hand away, only instead to be met with zero resistance.

The wrist was lifted.

"One!" The referee shouted, motioning to the crowd as that hand fell limply to the vulpine's side.

Once more, the rabbit grabbed the vulpine's wrist.

"TWO!!!" The rabbit barked somewhat aggressively as if he himself was trying to shout McCloud awake. His heart, like almost every member of the audiences', was racing in his chest in terror at the possibility that this would be it for his hero.

The rabbit reached down and lifted that wrist a third and final time, once more expecting that heroic resistance, a twitch of last second retaliation and adrenaline, or anything of the sort.

There was nothing.

"THR-"

The rabbit's words were cut off as his own mouth hung agape, having seen that hand fall limply, lifelessly, down near McCloud's side...

only to be caught mid-air by the ever cocky, grinning Wolf O' Donnell.

"Can't let you do that, Starfox." He sneered, pressing his knee into the back of the now purple-faced McCloud's neck one last time, before releasing him, and tossing his limp, borderline lifeless body backwards towards the center of the ring.

With his hands on his hips, Wolf strode towards his fallen rival, feeling the bulge in his shiny purple trunks at full mast, and slowly squat down, letting the bulge of those fat lupine nuts brush against the cold, barely breathing lips of McCloud.

"You know Foxy Boy, I admire you in a way." He reached down to grasp a handful of McCloud's headfur, causing a soft, breathless yelp to escape the unconscious young man. "So bright eyed and naive, you truly don't see any real danger ahead of yourself... until it's too late, of course. That confidence is your greatest strength..." Wolf propped McCloud up into that familiar seated position in the corner, before gripping the vulpine's unconscious chin and angling his face upward. Wolf then spun around and grabbed each of the top topes, towering his massive purple bubble butt above his rival's still reddened face and letting out a long, content sigh."And yet, it's also your biggest weakness." The bigger man grinned, before suddenly ramming that big, rock hard bubble backwards into the seated boy's face, immediately causing a gasp and whine of consciousness, soon followed by agonized, muffled whining, to escape the once proud and cocky champion's muzzle.

"Yeah! YEAH you like that, McCloud?" Wolf chimed, though it may have been impossible for his opponent to hear with those two massive silver furred ass mounds scraping around his face. "This new position suits you, Fox. Oh yeah..." He backed that ass up, further enveloping the young hero's face completely. "I'd say it's long overdue." Wolf let his tongue hang out in a sly, smug pant as he savored the ticklish sensation he felt pressed right up against his asshole.

"This is what you were born to do. THIS is the real reason destiny lead you into this company. This. Very. MOMENT." Wolf backed his ass up further with each word, until there was physically no more room between Fox's head and the turnbuckle pad.

"God I'm gonna love watching this on replay for years to come. I'm sure you'll learn to love watching it too, from the comfort of my dressing room couch." Wolf grinned, wrapping his tail around Fox's head with a tender brush that seemed downright loving, before he finally stepped away with his trunks ridden deep up that large, muscular bubble butt. The man then adjusted his bulging crotch while smirking out at the crowd with a raised eyebrow, a look that said it all.

After finishing his leisurely stroll around the ring, or a "victory lap" as many may have called it, Wolf finally walked over to Fox's motionless body in the corner. The bigger man then bent down at the waist, giving the camera a lens-full of large, purple manass, before grabbing a hold of the pup's booted ankle and yanking him towards the center of the ring.

Wolf then stood up straight and positioned his feet on either side of Fox's shoulders. Then, with one last, long look out into the crowd, dropped to his knees with his arms outstretched in an almost shrugging flex, grinning and sneering at the camera through his confident, unpatched eye. It was a look that said "What? You really doubted me?" Meanwhile those big purple cheeks had landed on and emcompassed the entirity of, his fallen opponent's face.

The referee began the count, as the arena was filled with silence and dread.

"One!" Wolf's tail wagged in excitement as his pearly white grin grew bigger.

"Two!" The elder lupine pumped his pecs, further showcasing the body this crowd had so foolishly doubted.

Then suddenly, all went black for Wolf, as the boots of McCloud suddenly swung up, wrapping around his head, and tugging it straight down to crash thunderously into the mat!!!

Fox took a deep, gasping breath as he rolled onto all fours, staring at the white ring floor with wide, adrenaline filled eyes as he took a moment to wipe the sweat, and ass-musk, off his brow.

The younger competitor then rose to stand on wobbly legs, and looked out into the crowd, needing to shield his face from the bright arena lights. How long had he been out? Fox wasn't sure, but he was counting his blessings that he had been woken up by the sound of the ref's loud counting.

The loud ringing in his ears was replaced by the sound of the crowd, and shortly afterwards, the low growl of his fallen opponent. Fox spun around just in time to dodge a clawed uppercut coming from his now enraged adversary. "Woah, watch the claws! They're illegial!" Fox warned, head still in a daze.

"This is a no disqualification match pup! Or did you forget when I sent you to dreamland?" Wolf snickered, before lunging his clawed hand at Fox's face even more suddenly than before.

"AH!!! G-GAH!" Fox gasped out as he suddenly felt his own eyebrow get slashed. Any closer and he would have had to start matching O' Donnell in the head accessory department, Fox thought to himself.

Then something even more unexpected happened!

With the satisfying 'schlink' of claws extending and grinding into each other, McCloud's own hand came up into a counter swing!

However, unlike O' Donnell's less successful attacks, Fox's managed to be right on the money. The younger competitor's claws swiftly dug into the silver fur covered flesh of the bigger man's face and completed the motion, sending droplets of blood splattering across the snow white ring floor! The younger man then took a step back, and wiped some of the blood leaking from his fingertips onto the back of his black leather trunks.

Meanwhile O' Donnell knelt on the ground, with that big, purple ass skyward, though the sight was hardly erotic. The big man was howling out in pure, agonizing pain as he clutched at his newly redecorated face, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, which was forming a small puddle on the mat.

"I told you. To watch. The claws. Wolf." Fox walked up behind the kneeling man while panting, his chest heaving, with a combination of sweat and blood still steadily dripping off his own body.

Then, before Wolf could recover, the older competitor would feel hot, steady hands gripping the back of his trunks, as well as the back of his neck, raising him to his feet!

"This is the beginning of the end for you, OLD MAN!" Fox hollared before he brought Wolf around, spinning, before sending him flying, shoulder-first into the cold, unforgiving steel corner pole. Then, with Wolf's body still bent at the waist, draped over the middle rope, Fox stomped up behind, the noise making the fur on Wolf's back raise in terror. "P... Please..." The old lupine hoarsely whispered out from behind a blood, and possibly tear stricken face.

However, there would be no solice, no comfort. Instead, the old in-ring-competitor's cries were met by sudden, loud, clawed SMACKS into that big bright purple ass! Fox made sure to leave claw marks, beginning to shred those trunks a bit, as well as a bring a bit of red dripping down Wolf's once proud and mencaing, now laughably abused ass.

However, Fox didn't stop after one.

As smack after loud, thunderous, clawed smack began to fill the arena, the only sounds to drown it out were Wolf's howls of pure, excrutiating pain, as well as the sound of the roaring crowd.

"Should've. Stayed. Gone. OLD MAN!" Fox hissed between each thunderous smack to that ass. By the time the vulpine was done, Wolf's trunks were torn to shreds, with the entirity of his brutalized, slashed up and ruined buttcheeks exposed, as well as his dark lupine ass crack nestled in-between.

"Pathetic." Fox spat as he adjusted his crotch, staring at his bent over opponent, before giving that ass a sudden hard, clawless slap, merely to show ownership.

"I'm gonna fuck you soon. And when I do, I want you to scream. I want you to scream out that you're retiring once and for all, and the great Starwolf legacy died out, not with a glorious bang, but with a pathetic bitch-like whimper. But first..."

Suddenly Fox exited the ring and, despite the beefed up creamsicle colored vulpine's sweat slick, battered and bruised body, showed impressive athleticism and energy as he strolled over to the ring announcer, snatched his microphone, and hopped up to stand on the crowd barricade, looking out into the sea of fans before bringing the microphone up to his panting mouth.

"Do you all want to see Wolf humiliated as much as I do?" The fox lowered his mic, staring out into the crowd with a feigned curiosity. Of course, he knew the answer long before that thunderous, "YES!!!" chant unonymously echoed back at him.

Fox simply held his signature smirk, before looking down, over his swollen green bulge at one of the vixens in the front row. The studly, sweaty alphamale then hopped down and walked over to her, asking if she had a pen or marker he could borrow, along with her phone.

Without hesitation the vixen practically squealed out "Yes!" before fishing into her purse and retrieving the items the star of the show had asked for. Fox shot her a wink before sliding back into the ring, and walking towards Wolf's still bent over, still somewhat bleeding, exposed ass, and squatted down with his face right behind it.

Then suddenly, Fox reached up to the waistband of O'Donnell's glossy, tattered purple trunks and yanked them down completely, all the way to his thighs, before pulling them down to his boots, and ultimately getting impatient as he shred them off altogether, tossing them to some "lucky" member of the crowd.

Fox grabbed the nearby microphone as he moved out of the way for the camera, big black leather ass still in a squat next to the unconscious victim. "Well well well Wolf! I didn't know you were such a FAN!" Fox grinned, ear to ear towards the camera, as his other hand came down to gently cup and squeeze O'Donnell's bruised, battered ass cheek, before slipping down to tug gently, playfully, on what appeared to be one of Starfox's own dark green jockstraps.

"I think deep down... you always knew you were MINE! Anyway, it's always good to see our fans buying our merch, even if you do give it a bad name." Fox sneered before reaching back up to squeeze, jiggle and play with that buttcheek, before giving it a harsh smack!

Fox then yanked up that tired, bristling, but ultimately defeated tail with one hand, before picking up and taking the lid off the marker with his mouth. The victorious vulpine then proceeded to write on that ass, before picking up the phone, and taking a picture.

"PROPERTY OF FOX MCCLOUD" was written in black, bold sharpie across those ruined ass cheeks as Fox sent himself a copy of the picture, before sliding out of the ring and returning the vixen's phone with a signature cocky grin and a "call me" hand sign, causing swoons and jealous huffs to resonate from the mouths of millions of viewers worldwide.

The alpha competitor then began to walk confidentally aorund the ring, gloating to the fans and nodding virgorously though his words couldn't be heard over their monsterous cheers. "I think it's time to end this!" Fox shouted with an exillerated look in his eyes, causing the crowd to roar even louder. The big smug, cocky fox then reached a hand down to his swollen, meaty green bulge and gave it an idle stroke, smirking devilishly out at the crowd before reaching inside, and pulling out a small pill which he then openly slipped into his own mouth.

The studly creamsicle furred fox then strolled over to his opponents finally waking body and yanked up up to his knees by that tattered white mohawk, before dragging the man to the center of his ring like a dog and holding him there, with McCloud's fat, black leather bulge obstructing the man's muzzle from camera view.

"Ugh, ughhh.... where am I..? What happ-" Wolf O Donnell' tried to grunt out, only to suddenly cry out and scream in panic and terror as Fox McCloud spat a thick, dark green mist straight down into O' Donne;;'s face, blinding the poor, aged wrestler, before Fox released him and went ringside to grab a towel to wipe off his green-stained mouth.

Fox took his time, circling the ring and even taking the time to give a few fans some autographs. All the while Wolf rolled around in the ring, clutching at his possibly ruined eyes, bare, clawed up ass in the air, and howling in pain louder than ever before.

Then finally, Wolf started to calm down, started to steady his breathing, as he managed to rub enough mist out of his eye to see a little. He just had to climb to the ropes, stand, and hit McCloud with one last, devastating clothesline, then he would make the other man quit once and for all! He could do this! He could come back!

These thoughts were abruptly cut off by the sudden harsh pain O'Donnell felt in his lower back, as Fox McCloud's big black leather buttcheeks slammed down into it. Instantly, Wolf was flattened onto his stomach with an exhausted whine. Grimacing, Wolf tried to roll over, tried to put up one last bit of fight, but even before those arms were draped over McCloud's knees in a camel clutch, the audience knew it was over.

"End of the line, Wolf. This is the end of your career. You see that camera in front of you? No, to the left. Yeah, right there." Fox was practically aiming Wolf's green face at the lens as he sat his ass comfortably atop his old rivals torn up, Starfox-jock-framed ass.

"I want you to look into it, and say, with earnest..." Fox grunted as he anked back on Wolf's chin, causing the old man's back to crack, and a soft whine to escape that ruined face. "That you quit. You are a quitter. This is what your whole career has lead you to, and you deserve it." Fox began to bounce his own large, rock hard black ass atop Wolf's creaking, cracking back as the bottom competitor began to openly cry out and squeal in pain towards the camera.

Fox allowed this for a few minutes, muscles still taut and flexed in case the old wolf tried anything, but the resistance never came. Then finally Fox lost patience, grabbing Wolf by his mohawk and yanking his head back roughly, hard enough to crack his neck in the jerking, twisting motion he used, before screaming in the old man's ear.

"SAY IT!!!"

Then finally, the bell tolled for the old wolf, as his jaw dropped, and after a soft, silent cry, he began to scream, right into the nearby camera and microphone.

"I.... QUUUUUUUUUIIIT!!!!!!!!!!!"

The sounds of O'Donnell's tear filled agony were immediately drown out by the thunderous, roaring cheers and applause of the fans, a noise that boomed so loud there were some audio issues for the viewers watching at home, not that they noticed due to their own cheering. It was the loudest, most iunified celebration in B.W.W. history, and it was all thanks to the heroic, determined, unstoppable, Fox McCloud.

Fox then sat atop Wolf's ass, having let go of the defeated man's chin, but still using his body as a makeshift chair, as both men stared out into the roaring sea of happy, greatful fans for a long moment. Fox then leaned down to whisper into Wolf's ear. "Meet me in my locker room after the show. You and I are going back to my place." Before planting a soft kiss atop the defeated wolf's head, obscured by Fox's own hands. Then the show continued, as Fox leaned to the side to pick up the fallen microphone, bringing it back to his lips.

"You know what Wolf? I think you WANTED THIS. You wanted to lose to the great Fox McCloud, become another notch on my belt, a mere chapter in my story, because you are, and have always been...

An EAGER TO SERVE. SUBMISSVE. BITCH!" Fox shouted into the microphone to the roaring approval of the audience, who was louder now in the arena than ever before in the history of BWW.

"SAY IT! ADMIT IT FOR THESE FANS. THEY PAID GOOD MONEY TO SEE YOU FALL, TO SEE THE REAL YOU!" Fox then glared down passionately, almost crazily, into Wolf's damaged, sweaty, tear and blood stricken face, the raw emotion in the air palpable during this long awaited moment.

Fox held the microphone up to Wolf's panting, lowly whining lips, screaming "SAY IT!!!" before Wolf finally whimpered, and whined out his last line ever spoken in a professional wrestling ring.

"I... I admit it... I'm... I'm a submissive b-bitch."

The mic was then immediately snatched back by McCloud, who in his victorious, testosterone fueled rage screamed back into the microphone, into the fallen ex-wrestler's face. "YOU'RE TRASH!!!" before slamming that fat down hard into the mat like a sack of potatoes, and standing to pose for the adoring fans as the ring lights focused down on his glorious, pumped up and sweaty body, and his music played.

It was a long celebration, ten minutes of McCloud posing, staring out into the crowd from the turnbuckle, and even going around the ring to sign autographs... before the music finally stopped, and the big creamsicle furred man stood in the center, microphone to his lips.

"Well folks. It's been one hell of a journey! And this great, epic moment wouldn't have been possible without any of you! So please, give yourselves a well deserved round of applause as I take Wolf out to his new home."

And with that, the arena burst into loud, echoing claps and cheers, as Fox rolled Wolf out of the ring and picked his limp, defeated body up to carry over his shoulder, currently ignoring the big, exposed grey furred ass next to his face as he, and the cameramen behind him, made their way up the ramp towards the backstage area.

The arena's titantron then shopwed a live feed of McCloud's broad, orange furred back as he hauled the carcass of a bruised and ruined O'Donnell back through numerous walk ways and parking lots, before finally stopping to stand on a street corner, next to a large, red, dumpster, and turning to face the camera.

"Well folks!" Fox said with that signature, not-at-all-worried smirk, as if he knew this would be the outcome from the very beginning. "Wolf has had a long, wild journey here in Beast Wars Wrestling! But all things must come to an end, both good, and pathetic." Fox smacked that ass, causing a low moan to escape Wolf's ips. "It's time for you to go home Wolf, where you belong." Fox said with cruel, sinister smugness before he suddenly grunted out, hoisting Wolf's body up into the air in a military press, and sent the screaming ex-wrestler diving straight down into that dumpster, hitting the bottom with a loud thud before falling silent, followed by Fox slamming the door shut, effectively ending the match, show, and Wolf O' Donnell's career.

Playtime was indeed over.

THE END!!!

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Bonus: Scrap idea summary I had in mind for the commission, but nerver got around to adding since I was already taking way too long to finish:

A dream sequence of o donnel completely destroying fox in the ring, winning, and taking him back to his apartment and buttfucking fox while it rains outside, have the rain get louder as the buttfucking continues until finally it becomes ear piercingly loud, and then o donnell wakes up, still in the match, to realize it was the sound of the crowd cheering fox on.

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Poor O'Donnell huh? Better luck next time! ... Oh wait.

THE END

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