There's Something About Daffney Part 1
by Innovator Of Awesomeness

   Daffney Unger, despite her television role that called for a montage of
screaming and insane antics, was a pretty decent woman. In fact, the girl
from Atlanta, Georgia was downright irresistible to the men of WCW. She
hadn't used her sexual charm to lure a contract into her hands like the other
women of the company had. Daffney earned her contract with an acting ability
under her belt. Men found this quality somewhat intriguing. She had never
been stripped to her bra and panties like the other females. She wore the
same attire each night, leaving her male admirers to only imagine. With each
passing show, a male fell under Daffney's spell, allured over the enigma that
was forced to left to the imagination. "Take it off" chants filled the arenas
as Daffney walked out, but she would not obligee. She remained stationary in
her attire while others lost clothing. She angered some, but at the same
time, caused them to become even more intrigued into the "Goth goddess" and
her dirty little secrets.

   While intriguing men, however, with her rebel against shedding clothing,
Daffney angered the women of World Championship Wrestling. It was these women
that were forced to be stripped of their clothing each week, hoping to become
one with the crowd. The fact that Daffney had the male population in the palm
of her hand by seemingly doing nothing caused a death warrant to be placed
upon her head. Miss Hancock, a former Nitro Girl and regular on WCW
television, was the first to confront the multi-wigged diva.

   "I don't give a damn about the others," Miss Hancock said to herself,
strutting toward her intended destination.

   It was a long night for the WCW crew. Nitro and Thunder had just
completed their showings and everyone was tired; everyone except for Miss
Hancock, who had not been used on television for quite a while. It was to be
another diva's job to confront Daffney about her methods that night, but a
prior meeting between the remaining divas had concluded that Ms. Hancock's
apportion of energy, as a result of a lack of television time, locked her in
as the best to complete the job.

   "I wasn't chosen to do this job," Keibler lies to herself, "I was just
the only one that wanted to take control around here. She will be put to an
end... and then it will be MY ass that they're kissing."

   Ms. Hancock, Stacy Keibler, wanted something a lot more than retribution
on Daffney. She wanted respect. Ever since her monster push from a Nitro Girl
to an on-air talent, she felt as though the WCW women lost respect for her,
and it was only her dislike for Daffney that allowed her to remain with the
other divas during their discussions. Putting an end to Daffney would
certainly excel her position in the eyes of the divas.

   Miss Hancock continued to stroll along the empty arena until finally
coming to her destination. She stopped in front of a blue door, on it
reading, "DAFFNEY." Daffney's locker room was on the other side of the arena
at all shows, completely shrouding herself from the rest of the ladies. While
the women would have not allowed Daffney to be near them, it still angered
them that Daffney obscured herself from her own sex.

   Miss Hancock's hand raised, prepared to knock on Daffney's door. "What the
hell am I doing?" she asked herself. "I don't need to knock." Stacy proceeded
to barge into the room, shouting Daffney's name in a loud, violent tone.

   "I'm right here!" Daffney announces, raising her arm in the air. "What are
you doing here, Stacy? Wanna talk to me about something?"

   "Listen Shannon," Keibler declares, stepping in front of Daffney and
pointing her finger in her face. "This has to stop. All of this bullshit."

   "What are you talking about?" Daffney questions, taking a step back.

   It was at this time that Stacy noticed Daffney's apparel, or lack thereof.
Daffney stood in front of Miss Hancock in nothing but a pair of blue panties
and matching satin bra. Like the fans of WCW, she had never seen Daffney in
anything but her traditional tanktop and slacks. Normally, Daffney would
change in her locker room, then meet Stacy, or the lady she was working a
show with, in their locker room. Stacy marveled at Shannon's (Daffney's real
name) amazing body. Her dark haired trembled down the side of her head,
draping cleverly over her satin-covered chest. Daffney's chest had never
appeared to Stacy as being "large" until this point. Her T-shirt usually
concealed the size of her chest, leaving some to wonder. But, as Stacy
continued to stand still, gawking silently at the beauty before her, she knew
Daffney's secret. She now knew what the world wanted to see... and why the
world wanted to see it.

   "Hello?" Daffney asked, snapping her fingers in front of Miss Hancock's
astonished face.

   Stacy remained idle for a moment, finally responding, "It has to st..."
She couldn't complete her sentences. She continued to mumble, "All.. of...
this... this... this..."

   Daffney was astonished. She had met male admirers that were speechless
upon meeting her, but never had a woman had this type of reaction. 

   "Nevermind..." Stacy managed to bring forth. Her body rocked, her fingers
trembled, and feelings of lust clouded her thoughts. 

   With a quick, "okay," Daffney returned to her previous task of dressing
herself. She turned around and strolled back to her locker, shooting Stacy a
glimpse of her beautiful backside. It was perfect. Plump enough to squeeze,
but not enough to giggle. Currently, it was encased in a thong, leaving
Stacy's head to fill with thoughts similar to that of Daffney's male
admirers.

   At her locker, Daffney bends over to retrieve an article of clothing.
Stacy, still watching on, unbeknownst to Daffney, is sent into a frenzy. She
cannot believe it. She is overwhelmed with the feeling that has come over her
body; the feeling of lust for another woman. She had lusted after plenty of
guys, but for some unknown reason, Stacy felt incredibly attracted to
Daffney, the same woman she planned on destroying.

   Slowly, Stacy crept up behind Daffney, her shaking hand stretched out.
Her soft hand glides along the back of Daffney's underwear, gently drifting
between her divine cheeks. Stacy's gentle touch keeps Daffney filing through
her bag of clothes, completely unaware of Ms. Hancock's sexual advance. As
Daffney bends over further, Stacy explodes. Her gentle touch turns to a ruff,
rugged pull, forcing Daffney's panties to the side with sheer force. Daffney
tries to resist, but Stacy, despite her small stature, overpowers the dark-
haired goddess.

   Stacy wedges her index finger between Daffney's milky thighs, desperately
searching for an insertion point. She finds one and immediately, submerges
her finger into Daffney's pussy. Bypassing the Goth goddess' labial lips,
Stacy buries her forefinger deep within Daffney's moist box, bringing a groan
out from her ruby red lips.

   "Oooh..." Daffney moans aloud, clasping her hands around the open locker
door.

   Daffney develops a slow and steady pattern, rocking back and forth along
Ms. Hancock's finger, which serves as a pleasurable guideline. Her plump butt
consumes the remainder of Stacey's hand, holding it stationary as her finger
penetrates deeper within. Having herself steadied, Stacey's unconfined hand
endeavors further up Daffney's smooth, curvy body, fixating itself upon her
lace-laden breasts. Stacey teases her lover, running the palm of her hand
along Daffney's bra, then quickly removing it.

   "Please..." Daffney begs, placing her quivering hands behind her back,
"make me hard!"

   Adding incentive, Daffney removes her bra, allowing her prodigious globes
to swing free. Stacey gladly and eagerly obliges, rubbing the palm of her
hand along the unconfined breasts of her gothic lover.

   "Oooh..." Stacey whispers, leaning close and planting a kiss on the back
of Daffney's neck, "those feel great."

   Eventually, the pleasure is too much. Daffney's screams turn to silent,
pleasurable moans. She climaxes, coating Stacey's index finger with her
orgasmic juices.

   "Congratulations," Daffney announces between her rapidly decreasing moans,
"you've pleasured your first woman."

   Indeed, it was the first time Stacey had been with a woman and the
first time she had ever pleasured one. A sly grin grew over the face of Ms.
Hancock, but she was far from finished pleasuring her gothic lover. Stacey's
finger emerges from deep within Daffney's soaked lovebox, coated with the
sweet juices of the dark-haired goddess. She holds her coated finger inches
from her slightly parted lips, preparing to clean her own limb.

   "Wait!" Daffney screams, turning to face her eager lover, "coat me!"

   Daffney flashes a wicked grin, directing Stacey's finger toward her
breasts. Stacey smiles broadly, placing her saturated finger between
Daffney's enormous mammories. As if it were a male organ, Stacey glides her
finger vertically, tit-fucking the Goth goddess. 

   "Faster!" Daffney demands, extending her tongue in hopes for a quick taste
of her own orgasmic juices.

   Stacey steadies herself on Daffney's broad hips and quickens her pace. Her
finger punctures through the narrow passage between Daffney's merged breasts,
placing the coated tip inside her lover's awaiting mouth. Instinctively,
Daffney sucks on the exposed part of the finger as it comes between her lips,
clearing it of its contents. Ms. Hancock takes a final pass through Daffney's
breastworks before allowing the remainder of her finger to be placed inside
her wet and eager mouth. Daffney takes Stacey's entire finger deep into her
mouth and clears it of her own juices. With one quick swipe, Ms Hancock
relinquishes her forefinger and surveys it, smiling in approval.

   "It's my turn!" Daffney announces, shoving the delicate Stacey onto a
bench. She lands on her back, legs spread, in agony, but still awaits
Daffney's next advance with anticipation.

   Seductively, Daffney crawls between Stacey's thin legs, brushing her
thighs gently with her fingers. She continues to ascend north, her breasts
drooping down, nearly touching Stacey's shivering body. Stacey is visibly
scared, not knowing what Daffney could do, but at the same time, shows a sign
of pleasure. She could have never imagined feeling two opposing emotions at
the same time--much less with another woman. Daffney suddenly comes to a
halt, ceasing her sensual catwalk. She hovers over Stacey's chest, glaring
down at her breasts. They are much smaller than Daffney's, but great pieces
of skin nonetheless.

   "Want these?" Stacey asks playfully, reaching behind her back and
unsnapping her sports bra.

   Without words, Daffney tears away at the piece of clothing, tossing it
aside. Ms. Hancock's perky breasts stand erect--either from the coldness of
the room or the erotic tone--for Daffney's gazing eyes to see. She swoops
down, planting her cold lips on Stacey's. As Daffney's tongue mingles with
her, Stacey can feel Daffney's enormous breasts squashing her diminutive
ones. Daffney breaks from the kiss, slowly moving back down Stacey's lovely
body, sliding her tongue along the trail. She becomes fixated on Stacey's
chest once more, this time scooping her left breast into her hand and licking
it gently.

   "Like that?" Daffney asks seductively, glaring into Miss Hancock's
passion-filled pupils.

   "Ooo.." she responds, moaning, "yes!"

   Daffney kisses Stacey's forgotten breast cautiously, scooping it into her
hand before she does so.

   "Oh..." Stacey coos, wrapping her feeble arms around Daffney's body,
pinning her close. "Keep goin'!"

   Stacey's hands travel south, her fingers hooking beneath the waistband of
Daffney's panties. Using her remaining strength, she tugs the thong down,
exposing Daffney's magnificent plump backside. Stacey advances her hands in
a circular motion, stimulating the bare bottom of her Goth lover. Her index
fingers protrude Daffney's asshole, slightly buggering it.

   "Ooh..." Daffney moans, hauling herself from Ms. Hancock's chest for a
moment, "that feels great."

   Like a vulture seizing it's prey, Daffney descends downward, intriguing
Stacey's nipple with the edge of her sharp tongue. She licks the sensitive
nipple at a faster pace, desperately attempting to bring a rise out of
Stacey.

   "Ooh..." Stacey screams, wrapping her petty hands around Daffney's buttox,
"I'm about to...."

   Stacey can feel her orgasm building, ready to explode. Daffney cups her
hands around Stacey's breast, licking it at a brisk and dominant pace. 

   "I'm about to..." Stacey warns, endeavoring to resist orgasm. "Wait!"

   Daffney renounces her piercing tongue and glares at Stacey, halting her
actions.

   "Get on the ground," Stacey orders, but Daffney is not willing to budge.
"NOW!"

   Daffney had always been in favor of dominatrix, and Stacey's commands
excited her further. Willingly, she drops to the floor beside bench,
stretching her arms and legs to their full span. Stacey, holding in her
passionate explosion, regroups. She rises up, standing above a fallen
Daffney. As Daffney watches in approval, Ms. Hancock reverts to her old
methods, dancing sexually above the Goth goddesses face. Hands laced behind
her head, she grinds and gyrates her hips, lowering herself onto Daffney's
awaiting face. Immediately, the dark-haired vixen takes to Stacey's lower
extremities, tearing through her panties like an animal. Pushing the panties
aside savagely, Daffney endeavors for Stacey's soaked lovebox, impaling her
with her tongue.

   "That's it, Bitch!" Hancock barks, reaching back with her hand to caress
Daffney's enormous mammories. "Eat me!"

   Stacey's orders continue to come forth in a dominate manner; in such a
strong tone that Ms. Hancock herself believes each word. Daffney laces her
arms around Stacey's slim waist, pulling her close. As an extra incentive,
Stacey pivots her hips, grinding her soiled pussy along Daffney's tongue.

   "Ooo..." Stacey moans, feeling her previous orgasm build once more,
stronger than ever, "faster.... keep going... ooh!"

   Climaxing, Stacey's pivots come to a halt. She utilizes her hands to
further stimulate her own chest, bringing her orgasm to a finish. Her frame
rumbles, releasing her moist juices onto Daffney's lovely composure. Stacey
then tumbles to the side, obviously exhausted. Daffney sits up, slurping down
the remaining goo from her mouth.

   "So," Daffney says, calmly, "what was it that you wanted to talk to me
about?"

   "I forget," Stacey replies, resting her head on the cold tile floor.