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Rank：Diamond Member
- Score：643
- Posts：643
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From：Canada
- Register：12/07/2008 01:08 AM
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Date Posted：07/24/2016 14:58 PMCopy HTML
Last week on Adrenaline, the 4CW fans got quite a few surprises. I’m not going to touch on those because I don’t care. And they’re completely irrelevant to this whole thing. However, they did get a glimpse of a certain dark-haired beauty. In this small glimpse was Cyrus Riddle. He was… savagely attacked by the woman. She damaged him. And what did he do? Enjoyed it. That’s right… he enjoyed it. Every moment of it. The closeness, the skin to nail contact, the way she ran her finger gently down his chest. And that little trickle of blood that followed. Oh… is she supposed to be sorry that happened? Is she meant to apologize for that? Send her deepest sympathies to his girlfriend, who got to watch his face as the ecstasy of the moment overcame him? Sorry… not sorry.
So… who is this woman? Well as we heard, her name is Rorie Steele. But the 4CW universe didn’t hear too much about her. Other then the fact that she is into some pretty interesting stuff, of course. I mean, you should know who she is. She’s Rorie Fucking Steele. But some of you probably live in your own little worlds and don’t pay enough attention. Crawl out, dears. You’re in for some fun. Lets go into her story a little bit.
Rorie Steele was born. From that day, she was awesome. The end.
This is how things always start for Rorie. Her back story isn’t one of those bullshit “omg feel bad for me” stories. She wasn’t abused by daddy. Mommy didn’t call her names. They’re irrelevant to who Rorie is. She was always the type to take whatever she wanted. To steal the light from others and make everything about her. And she was fucking good at it. She still is, honestly.
The only thing you really need to know is that Rorie is very interested in men. Extremely. To the point where she will go out of her way more than normal to get one that she wants. She doesn’t care if he’s taken. Look at her actions on Adrenaline. She has no remorse for any of her actions. She doesn’t care who your girlfriend is or how badass she may be… She will have the thing she wants most. And she will shove it right into your face when she gets it. Then, of course, leave the guy behind to cry about what he’s done and beg for forgiveness. Because she’s a bitch like that. ☺
You’ll find out more about her as time goes on, surely. But talking about all that bullshit is a waste of time right now. So let’s just jump right in, shall we?
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Rorie Steele is seen entering a building. Despite the more frigid weather, Rorie decided to wear a short, thin black jacket that was loosely held around her frame and some extremely high heels. Her hair was curled and left down on her back. A pair of large sunglasses covered almost half of her face. As she walked into the building, a gust of wind shot towards her, sending a shiver up her spine and blowing the jacket up a tad, showing more skin. Her body shook for a short second, moving in the most perfect way. Even when she was cold, she looked sexy. A set of stairs were the first thing seen. She starts her ascent upwards in the poorly lit stairway. The camera stayed very focused on her swaying backside. Because everyone wants to see that, right?
She opened the door at the top of the stairs, walking into a low-lit studio. The only lights, really, were the two set up pointing towards a bed pushed up against a wall. White sheets were neatly placed on the bed, pillows placed in an almost uniform position. They looked so inviting, as if you could fall asleep right as your head hit the fabric. There were four posts coming up from each corner of the bed, all connected together at the top. The walls of the room were also painted white, sticking to the look of purity that the room had going.
Rorie stepped further into the room and stopped at the side of the bed. She dropped her hands from the edges of the jacket, letting it open a bit. She shrugged her shoulders down, letting it slip from her arms, down to the floor. The camera stayed on her from behind, showing off a black, lacey thong. Her hair cascaded down her back, hiding the straps of her black bra. She grabbed at her hair from the top, fixing it a little bit, shaking it against her body. Someone walked into the room, causing Rorie to turn towards the camera, showing her front. Her bra was black and white striped on the cups, with lace trim. She looked at the man, her red lips curling into a smirk. The camera moved behind the photographer, showing a man with a bald head. You could see the black thick-rimmed glasses he wore from the angle he was standing at.
Photographer: “Are you ready, love?"
She nodded towards him, not saying a word. She put both of her hands on the bed, crawling towards the center of the bed. She faced the photographer, putting her hands on her hips. The look she gave to the camera was filled with seduction. The man snapped a few quick photos. Rorie looked towards the camera man, who had slowly brought the camera closer to Rorie, eliminating the photographer from the shot all together. She fixed her face, a smirk coming on now.
Rorie Steele: “You know, Bryan… It’s extremely sweet that you took time out of your day to talk about me. To bring me up… what… twice? Maybe three times? I appreciate that you actually said things about me. I feel complete, I think.”
Rorie switches up her pose, putting her arms over her head, running a hand down her own arm.
Rorie Steele: “I came here thinking that you would be so easy for me to take down. That you would be a waste of my time. But it may be that I’m wrong. For the first time in a long time, I think I was wrong. You’ve made me realize that I don’t really belong here. That all the things I did in W2K were nothing compared to what people do here. You, sir, are my new inspiration. You… have shown me the way.”
She drops her arms down, running her hands along the side of her body. She bites her lip gently as she looks at the camera.
Rorie Steele: “I mean… look at you’re accomplishments. You have a beautiful girlfriend who loves you. You were a champion in W2K, among other titles over the years. You’re the tag team champion in two different federations.”
She get’s down on her hands and knees, glaring seductively at the photographer.
Rorie Steele: “Mind you, one partner fucking hates you and the other is about as useful as a priests cock.”
A smirk comes across her face as the top half of her body goes down on the bed, her ass up right in the air.
Rorie Steele: “You honestly think you are better than me? You think you have something on me? Bryan Williams… you are nothing compared to me. You are the pesky piece of gum that found itself on the bottom of my Louboutins. Yes… the ones I threw out last week after only having them for a day and a half. You are like those shoes, Bryan. You are nothing but garbage. You are expendable. You aren’t even close to my level, sugar.”
She pushes her body up again, turning so that her back was to the camera. She lifted her hair a bit, showing off the small of her back.
Rorie Steele: “Look at yourself. You have this whole ‘Pity Me, I’m Trying My Best‘ thing going on. You are so desperate to win and show how good you really are. But the fact is, sugar, you just… aren’t that good. You lose, Bryan. That is who you are now. That is all there is to know about you. You have been losing and will continue to lose your matches. Why? Because you’re worthless. You are exactly what you’ve always been scared of becoming.”
She turns her head towards the photographer, licking her red lips. Her eyes stayed down, looking to the floor.
Rorie Steele: “Consider the Bryan Williams of W2K. You were dominating in that place. But why? Why was Bryan Williams doing so well? Interesting fact… he was helped. He had the woman running the company pushing him because she enjoyed his tiny, little cock. He fucked her and in return, she handed him a title shot on a silver fucking platter. But hang on a second… what did Bryan do with that shot? He fucking choked. Like a dick stuck in his throat, he choked. That’s the Bryan Williams that isn’t talked about.”
She shrugged her shoulders, running her hands along her backside. Through every word she says, the photographer continues to snap photos.
Rorie Steele: “And now let’s take a look at me, hm? I am the epitome of fucking awesome. I dominated in W2K whenever I could. I was the Women’s Champion there and kept that title for a long time. Yes, Bryan… I stopped wrestling to become a commentator. Might as well bring that up before you do. I was done facing the same people over and over again. So I quit. What’s the point of beating those same people again and again? Monotony has never been my strong suit. Neither has monogamy, but that’s another story all together.”
She winked at the camera, which the photographer caught a snap of as well.
Rorie Steele: “You have more titles than me, sure… but the problem for you right now is, those titles actually mean nothing. And honestly… I’ll say so do mine. We’re going based on current events. You have two tag titles. Two championships based on working with another person. You were carried by someone else to get the titles you hold right now. You are the weight that someone else has to carry. You know how fucking sad that is? My title in BCW? My Vixen championship? I fucking earned that. I beat two other women to get that title. Alone. I had no help. Nobody to save my ass when things were going downhill. Mind you, I got the chance by showing my tits to the judges. But we all know that’s just how I do things. I earned my spot and I showed exactly why their choice was the best. You, Bryan… you can’t even compare yourself to me.”
She crawled towards the end of the bed that was pushed against the wall. She put her hands up against the wall, pushing her bottom out towards the camera. She dropped her head back, letting her hair fall along her curved spine.
Rorie Steele: “I am simply better than you, sweetheart. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Yeah… I slept with the big boss. But that’s not how I came to be a part of 4CW. I don’t need this place. I don’t need the fucking money. I’m provided with anything I need, whenever I need it by my devoted followers. And by followers, I mean exes looking to buy my affections back. Why not use that, right? But no…I came here because they saw my raw talent. They knew how much I was dominating in BCW. Perry could have just fucked off and never called again… Which is unlikely, since I’m addicting as fuck. But he sought me out and convinced me to join. I don’t need this place like you do. All I wanted was to come in here and kick ass. And who better to start that on than you?”
She turned her head back to the camera, moving her hair out of her face in the process, she smirks, looking directly at the photographer.
Rorie Steele: “I am the future of 4CW. I am the one that these people will flock to. And when they do, I will push them all down and claim my throne as their Queen. I will own them all. I will dictate their lives. Dictate every move they make. I will be their superior and they will all look up to me. Because I am a leader, Bryan. Something you know nothing about. You will never be the face of a company. You will never have that claim. I have been the face. Despite my interesting approach to things, I still have represented entire companies. I am worth having around. You… you aren’t worth shit.”
She moved again to face the camera. She ran her hands along her body, legs spread apart slightly in her kneeling position. She turned her head to the side, one of her hands caressing her own neck. The other over her stomach.
Rorie Steele: “Now let’s take a break quickly from me. I know you’re all sad about the idea of me not talking about myself, but just bare with me for a second. Psyche Devyne. Bryan’s little plaything. We may be friends… but honey I will never let friendship stop me from doing anything I want. You’ve got Bryan who has fallen for the most pathetic girl out there. The fact that this woman still wins some matches is a mystery to me. She’s terrible at wrestling and her losses far exceed her wins. Hence why you’re perfect for each other. You’re both losers. Mind you, she’s extremely hot. You don’t deserve that.”
She puts a finger into her mouth, biting it gently. Her other hand is pulling down the side of her thong a bit.
Rorie Steele: “But look at it this way… She’s English… What else could she possibly know further than the tiny dick he provides?”
The photographer stops his photo taking, clearing his throat loudly. He wasn’t too impressed by that line.
Rorie Steele: “My bad, sugar. Forgot you’re English. I’m sure you’d prove that theory wrong or whatever… I’m actually just saying that to make you feel better… I don’t really believe it.”
She winks at the photographer. The camera pans over to him a little bit, showing him shake his head but go back to taking photos.
Rorie Steele: “I know you want nothing to do with me, Bryan. I get that. I honestly feel the exact same way as you. I didn’t like you in W2K and I don’t like you now. You’re pathetic, your girlfriend is pathetic, and you’re a waste of my fucking time. For you to honestly sit there and pretend that you’re going to be better than me is laughable. I wouldn’t even let you go out and buy me a coffee. You’d probably fail at that, too.”
She laughed out loud, mocking him.
Rorie Steele: “But wait… I have more things to say about you, sugar. Based on the shitty monologue you spewed about Cyrus Riddle. Funny… I thought this was a match between us. You spent three fucking quarters of your promo talking about someone who has nothing to do with this match in any way. How is he relevant to me? How is he relevant to our match? I pretty much imagined him throat-fucking you during the promo. Honestly… I think you just have a massive boner for the guy and are frustrated that he doesn’t feel the same way.”
Another smirk danced across her face. She turns around again, getting a photo taken of her unclasping her bra.
Rorie Steele: “Focus, Bryan. That’s what you need. Of the remaining quarter of your promo, you talked about me for... what... about half of that? How do you think that makes me feel, Bryan? I’m hurt. I feel like you don’t like me.”
She slips off the bra, and faces the photographer. An arm is wrapped around her body, hiding any bits that should not be seen on TV. The other hand holds up the bra. Her face goes into a pout at her last words. But within seconds, it changes to a sadistic smile.
Rorie Steele: “Sugar… I fucking embrace that hate. I will end you, Bryan Williams. You will continue to throw yourself a pity party and whine and cry about how nobody takes you seriously and you’re letting people down. News flash, Bryan. You. Fucking. Are. Soon enough, your partners will see how much you let them down. Your girlfriend will see it. And that sickness will spread to the fans. They will see why Bryan Williams doesn’t deserve their love. He deserves to be hammered to a cross and left to fucking rot.”
The smile remained on her face as she stared at the camera. The photographer, still in the shot a bit, rips off his glasses suddenly. He grips them in his hand, snapping them in half. He whips them across the room at a wall. Rorie calmly turns her head towards him, watching. He throws the camera harshly at the ground, smashing it into a few pieces. The photographer turns his head to the camera, revealing himself and glaring at whoever was operating it.
Cyrus Riddle: “Get the fuck out of here, mate…”
He turns his attention back to Rorie, smirk on her face again. He stalks towards her, the camera cutting to black before anything more is seen. |
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