Just after the bell tolls on the Mark Storey, Kotzebue Kid bout, the audience is transported backstage via the Titan Tron bursting into life. Brian Johnson's smiling face is presented in close-up, the image blurred slightly to begin with before coming into focus as the camera zooms out ever so slightly. His goofy smile seems plastered in place for a moment, his expression remaining still. The camera zooms out more, showing a little more of his backstage surroundings.

The loudmouthed Johnson stands with microphone in hand, poised and ready to push open an indescript white door. His mouth opens as the microphone raises towards his lips and he utters an introduction in a secretive voice not much louder than a whisper.

"I have been trying to track down the wherabouts of the new Number One contender for the Intercontinental Championship, Kasabian Stalker.

If the fact that he won the 'Survival of the Sickest' match in only his second outing in XWA was not enough, he was identified earlier tonight as one of Charlie Harris's clients. There is plenty to talk to Kasabian about.

The man is proving to be hard to find, but I have a reliable source that tells me he may be just behind this door… And I am game enough to find out.”

As Brian pushes open the door, he is met with a wall of steam that hides the contents of the room itself. From within the white abyss, the sound of female giggling can be heard. A second giggle joins the first as Brian Johnson bravely steps inside the steam-filled room, the camera following him inside.

For a moment, nothing is seen but a white screen. After a while, three figures are able to be made out amidst the wall of white, like shadows in the distance on a foggy day. As the steam clears through the now open door, Brian is greeted with quite an unexpected sight. He finds Kasabian, yes, but flanked on either side by unnaturally busty smiling blondes. The trio are seated in a Jacuzzi, the water bubbling up just high enough to keep the audience guessing about the possibility of attire amongst the bubbles. Both women appear naked, yet the bubbles themselves act as well placed censors. The two blondes giggle in tandem once more, over-exaggerating their pleasure over another one of Kasabian’s dirty jokes. Kasabian glances over in Johnson’s direction but does little to acknowledge the interviewer’s presence.

“Ahem…” Brian Johnson clears his throat, obviously in an attempt to garner Kasabian’s attention. “Mister Stalker. I just need to ask you a few questions about your title shot against Rob Chapman, you alliance with Charlie Harris. I've been trying to track you down all day and, well, it doesn't look like you are about to run away from here any time soon.”

Kasabian grins, looking to his left then his right. Finally, he looks back at the buzz-killing interviewer raising a hand to point at him.

“Right you are, bub.” He winks at Brian. “If you are expecting me to share, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

Both blondes giggle enthusiastically at this comment and both of Kasabian’s hands disappear underneath the bubbles once more, heading steadily for the directions of either girl’s lap.

“As far as my dealings with Harris, it is very simple. I want to take this business by storm. He is the man that can make that happen. He got me into the Survival of the Sickest match and I did the rest, which brings me to your second question. You want to know about Rob Chapman?” Kasabian continued, not fazed by his intrusion to his frisky bath. “I don’t have much to say about the guy. I don’t know him from a bar of soap; haven’t bumped into him backstage, haven’t slapped him on the butt in the showers… yet.

What I do know is that I took five of the best that XWA had to offer. Five legends, five other men who were at the peak of their games… Well, four men at their peaks and one cripple with a bum leg. I took all these men had to give. I took their abuse and I liked it. I felt the bruises, tasted my own blood. It gave me the buzz I needed to get up, climb that cage and defeat them.

I silenced everybody in the business. Shocked the world. I showed everybody just a glimpse of who Kasabian Stalker is. He’s not some joke who comes out and wrestles sex dolls. He’s a maniacal, sick bastard who will bulldoze this entire roster on his way to the top. This much is clear… Rob Chapman has no idea what he is in for.”

Kasabian lifts his hands once more, picking up a palm full of bubble mixture and blowing it in the direction of XWA’s cocky interviewer. Brian Johnson simply brushes the bubbles off his suit as they land on his lapel. He takes a step forward towards Kasabian, placing a hand on the side of the Jacuzzi.

“Do you think you are something special? I saw that match. A match where you let Xtreme Icon do all the work, then stole the briefcase while his foot was trapped in the ring ropes. Do you call that a victory?”

Kasabian simply smiles at the attempt to get under his skin. This time, it is his turn to lean forward. He places his arms on the side of the spa as well, covering Johnson’s hands with suds.

“A win is a win. Like my women, I will take them any way I can get them. You know what is true, my friend? At the end of the day…”

Kasabian stands, turning as he does so to expose a bare behind, glistening as soapy suds glistening off his pale skin as they slide from the small of his back down to the top of his thighs. Lifting his leg to step out of the spa, he gives an ‘inadvertent’ shot of the Stalker family jewels between his legs from behind as he climbs out. Freshly shaven like a pair of peaches, they are soon hidden once more by his body, leaving one wondering if they had in fact seen a little more of Kasabian than expected or not. He disappears behind a partial wall to where a row of lockers were located. As he disappears from view, the two blondes leap into action.

With breasts floating somewhat unnaturally in the Jacuzzi waters, one of the seemingly identical blonde dolls fishes about at the side of the spa for a moment before returning to face the camera. She holds up a makeshift sign that she had written with a marker on a piece of paper in Kasabian’s absence. Mouthing the words, ‘Help me’, to the camera, the blond directs attention to her sign by placing it just above the water level in front of her breasts.

The sign reads:
‘Help!
We are being held here against our will.
We have been chained by our ankles to the bottom of the hot tub and can't leave.’

She manages to hold the sign up for as long as possible before the rustling sounds from behind the wall suggest that Stalker is about return. A look of panic fills her face and she simply dunks the makeshift sign into the water, watching as it breaks up into several pieces. Both her and her busty blonde friend begin scooping up the pieces and stuffing them into their mouths. Both blondes swallow the evidence of their treason just as Kasabian returns, now holding the briefcase in front of his naked body. He smiles as he takes the first step to the Jacuzzi once more.

“At the end of the day… I still have this.” Kasabian continues his sentence from before he had departed, as if nothing had transpired in his absence. “I still have the briefcase and it proves my worth. Rob Chapman may not know who I am, he may not give me the time of day… He is going to find out the hard way just how much of a mistake that is against the likes of me.

I will win, at all costs. I don’t mind bending the rules, twisting the odd nipple here, tweaking the odd testicle there. That ring is my own little pleasure centre, my own little dungeon. Mister Champion will be taken to the limit like never before and I will enjoy every second of making him squirm.

Do you know why, Brian Johnson?”

Kasabian says the last line stepping forward towards Brian, getting his wet and naked white, fleshy body right inside Johnson’s personal space. With a whisper, just loud enough for the interviewer’s microphone to pick up, he gives the answer.

”I love the chase.
Man or woman, I don’t give a damn. I love the intimacy, the sexual tension. Mmmm, my body tingles just thinking about it.”

Brian Johnson backs away ever so slightly, just as Kasabian makes a playful attempt to nibble on his earlobe. From behind him, the two girls in the hot tub can be heard whispering to each other, their conversation unable to be made out by the naked ear. Kasabian spins around on his heels, once more exposing his bare behind to the world and glares at his pair of busty hot-tub guests.

“I'm not paying you to talk, am I? It’s always the same. You girls are always so damned sexy, up until you open your mouths… Then it’s a never ending trail of gossip and verbal diarrhoea. You make me sick, both of you.”

Kasabian’s outburst seems hardly warranted. It has an instant and profound effect on the girls, who retreat inside themselves and sink lower in the bubbles, falling silent as they do so. Their eyes burn with a look of hatred, all signs of fake jubilation devoid from them by now.

In silence, the room stand still. The air grows as thick with tension as the steam had been earlier. This is only cut through by a knock on the door. The knock is followed by a stern female’s voice calling out.

”Kasabian Stalker… Have you been a bad boy?”

Standing in the doorway is a third woman. She is taller than the blondes in the hot-tub, more voluptuous and curvy. Her black stiletto leather boots make loud clinking sounds on the tiled floor as her six inch heels tap their way across the room. The curvy intruder is dressed completely in leather, a dominatrix, complete with whip and duffel bag, undoubtedly filled with a vast array of punishment devices for the Pervert.

The dominatrix looks about the room as she enters. First, to the girls in the hot-tub, then to the film crew and interviewer still awkwardly standing in front of Kasabian. Kasabian himself is stark naked, his small briefcase the only thing hiding ‘Little Kasabian’ from the world. In the same stern, domineering voice, she addresses Stalker once more.

”Bisexual play is going to cost extra, I can give you a party rate. And it is going to cost you more if you want to film it, you naughty pervert.”
Kasabian opens his mouth to reply, but Brian Johnson beats him to the punch, turning and berating the woman himself.

”Who the hell are you? What are you doing here? Can’t you see I am conducting and interview?”

The woman bats barely an eyelid, giving a matter of fact response.

”I should ask you the same question… Kasabian has a match very soon andit is time for his pre-match rituals and preparations. I simply… aide him… in his preparations. And how dare you talk to me like that, you should be punished.”

The dominatrix cracks her whip, slapping Brian Johnson on the backside with it. He backs away, heading for the door as the leather-bound lady steps up to Kasabian, taking the briefcase away from him and tossing to the floor. She stands between him and the camera shot, hiding his features with her back. Looking Kasabian up and down, she makes an observation to begin her session.

”Looks to me like you have already started. Who told you that you were allowed to enjoy yourself yet?”

Kasabian smiles as he answers her.

”Nobody mistress. I will accept my punishment.”

She nods and grabs Kasabian by the hand, leading him back behind the partial wall to the locker section of the room. As Kasabian exits, Brian Johnson looks back at the camera, shaking his head.

”Err… There you have it. Rob Chapman had better start preparing, because I don’t think he’s ever faced the likes of this nutcase before. I just hope Charlie Harris knows what he has signed himself up for.”

The scene ends with Brian Johnson’s smiling face in the foreground and the frantic waving of Kasabian’s two busty blonde captives in the background, still nestled inside the hot tub.

Posted... Feel dirty now.
I think I need a shower.