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Raider · 08-31-2010, 03:19 PM

A short quick story......

Something wasn’t right here. I couldn’t understand why Cindy’s entourage were milling around like a lot of headless chickens in the hotel foyer. The schedule that had been released to the press said that there was to be a photo call in the sports annex, and mentioned that 22 year old Cindy, on her first visit to Japan, would be featuring the behemoth female wrestler Monster Ripper in her shoot. Ten minutes later and the lovely Miss Crawford was still missing. This was the late 1980s and modern communications just didn’t go wrong like this. I had my trusty Nikon, 10 rolls of 35mm film, and a pictorial to complete for the Daily News Sunday supplement magazine. I was expecting by now to be feasting my eyes on the mouth watering body of American supermodel Cindy Crawford, hopefully dressed in very little. Where was she!
I tried asking her crew, but they seemed confused. They thought that Ripper’s crew had picked Crawford up earlier and that they were going to set things up in the sports annex, but the sports annex doors were still securely locked. Clearly the language barrier and confusion as to who was in charge of the shoot had added to the chaos.
Leaving the other photographers and journalists in the foyer with Cindy’s management I went off in search of the sports annex, to investigate for myself. The doors were indeed locked, so I circled around the outside of the building, lithely leaping a brick wall in the process. This part of the complex was hidden from the main hotel. Nothing seemed unusual at first, until around the back of the building I saw a black limo parked neatly. There was a second door into the building which looked ajar from where I was standing.
I crept closer and blended in with the wall, sliding nearer to the door. I could plainly hear Japanese male voices, and over these I could hear raised female voices further away. I froze as one of the females emitted what sounded like a cry of pain. Then there were more male voices, and then again a female cry. Was it Cindy? What on earth was she doing? I slid through the door into a corridor and moved along to where I thought the sounds were coming from. Two Japanese guys passed by, with me tight up against the wall in the shadows. I came to a room with a closed door incorporating a small window and peeped through. My eyes opened wide, and I nearly dropped my F2.
Inside the room were a throng of Japanese press guys and photographers, all cramming round a wrestling or boxing ring. Inside the ring, Monster Ripper was posing, with what looked like a very dazed and dishevelled Cindy Crawford. She held Cindy by the hair, with Cindy in a one piece white costume half ripped off her, displaying her belly and most of her left breast. Cameras clicked as Ripper dragged the supermodel around the ring. I could not believe my eyes. Instinctively I raised my camera, but realised I need a better view. It didn’t worry me that Cindy had broken her agreement regarding the photo call, I just had to get shots of this set before the rest of the western journos figured out what was going on.
I found an air vent which crossed the room in which Ripper and Cindy were posing. Climbing up on a drinks machine I was able to slide into it and crawl along. There I worked on the mesh below me, and dislodged a ceiling tile, sliding it to one side. A clear view of the ring opened up and I hurriedly pointed my zoom lens at the scene below. Above the noise down there no one had heard a thing.
I fired of the motor drive as Ripper seemed to be bending Cindy in two over her thigh. What a pose! I hadn’t realised this was to be an actual wrestling match shoot! Cindy Crawford wrestling, that would sell like anything. Did she know she was flashing so much of her left breast? Anymore and we’d be treated to a nipple! Then as I watched, I realised something was definitely wrong. Cindy looked a mess. Her face and hair looked like she’d gone a round with Ali. She looked very dazed, and wobbled on her feet as Ripper positioned her for the next shot. Then in a quiet moment I heard the clear sound of Ripper’s fist striking Cindy Crawford’s body. The Japanese brute was really fighting! She was really hitting Cindy. No wonder Ripper’s team had spirited Cindy away and locked the doors. This was an illicit shoot. They were abusing Cindy, and tomorrow every paper and magazine in Japan would be carrying pictures of the American supermodel fighting Monster Ripper.
Ripper was shouting something in Japanese as she repeatedly pounded her fist into Cindy Crawford’s lower back and kidneys, holding the model tummy first against a ring post. Again the hair hold, and Ripper twisting Cindy’s head back, a muscular arm delivering further punches into Cindy’s gorgeous body. I carried on taking shots myself, aware of the scoop I was witnessing as suddenly Crawford’s C cup breasts sprung free from the shredding costume, and were immediately treated to some vicious looking punches. I watched as Ripper threw the topless supermodel into the post and worked her over with her fists. This wasn’t an ordinary wrestling match. I wasn’t a big fan, but I knew punching like this wasn’t usually allowed. Ripper was pummelling every part of Cindy Crawford’s much admired body, with Cindy barely conscious, mewling like a kitten as she was beaten. The Japanese surrounding the ring roared Ripper on to new heights, roaring as she lifted Cindy high (in a military press) and dropped her thong clad body on the mat. Now the monster Japanese wrestler was rag dolling Cindy around the ring, punching and kicking her at will. The journalists encouraged Ripper, delighting when she crushed the topless model in a bear hug, exulting when she turned her attention to Cindy’s belly and breasts. I was spellbound. Ripper was doling out the beating of her life to Cindy Crawford. Crawford’s face was struck repeatedly as cameras whirred. Close ups of breast claws, thigh wrenches, knees to the kidneys, punches to the stomach, were all captured, to be shared with the rest of Japan the following day. I got a beautiful shot of Cindy’s head being jolted back, eyes dimmed, while her breasts quivered, thick hard nipples in glorious focus. Eventually, after I had enough shots to work with, I just watched to satisfy my desire to see more destruction. I wasn’t disappointed. For over half an hour Monster Ripper worked on Cindy Crawford, repeatedly bringing her round with water splashed to the face. Each time the Monster would rip into some luscious part of Cindy Crawford’s delicious body. At the end Cindy was left in just a thong, splayed in the corner, and used as a punch bag. Each photographer was invited forward and given his own private opportunity to shoot Cindy Crawford and Monster Ripper. Ripper would beat Cindy wherever the journalist wanted. Most went for Cindy’s breasts or belly, some for her face, and one or two for her ass cheeks or thighs. When they had done, the journalists and most of the Ripper’s management left. Ripper’s two female trainers remained. The three of them revived Cindy Crawford, and in private, so they thought, they proceeded to abuse the supermodel for a further half an hour. Finished with her, and satiated, the three Japanese women left together leaving Cindy Crawford, naked and glistening, laying unconscious in the ring. When the coast was clear I dropped down into the room, and slid the bolt on the door. I placed my camera down and climbed into the ring, kneeling beside Cindy. I wondered what it must have felt like to punch her, pressing my knuckles against the flat of her tummy. She was astonishingly beautiful, even beaten up like this. I touched her cheek, and ran my fingers through her hair, she didn’t stir. What should I do with her?

08-31-2010, 03:19 PM	#1 (permalink)
Raider Heavy hitter Join Date: Jan 2010 Posts: 147	Cindy in Japan A short quick story...... Something wasn’t right here. I couldn’t understand why Cindy’s entourage were milling around like a lot of headless chickens in the hotel foyer. The schedule that had been released to the press said that there was to be a photo call in the sports annex, and mentioned that 22 year old Cindy, on her first visit to Japan, would be featuring the behemoth female wrestler Monster Ripper in her shoot. Ten minutes later and the lovely Miss Crawford was still missing. This was the late 1980s and modern communications just didn’t go wrong like this. I had my trusty Nikon, 10 rolls of 35mm film, and a pictorial to complete for the Daily News Sunday supplement magazine. I was expecting by now to be feasting my eyes on the mouth watering body of American supermodel Cindy Crawford, hopefully dressed in very little. Where was she! I tried asking her crew, but they seemed confused. They thought that Ripper’s crew had picked Crawford up earlier and that they were going to set things up in the sports annex, but the sports annex doors were still securely locked. Clearly the language barrier and confusion as to who was in charge of the shoot had added to the chaos. Leaving the other photographers and journalists in the foyer with Cindy’s management I went off in search of the sports annex, to investigate for myself. The doors were indeed locked, so I circled around the outside of the building, lithely leaping a brick wall in the process. This part of the complex was hidden from the main hotel. Nothing seemed unusual at first, until around the back of the building I saw a black limo parked neatly. There was a second door into the building which looked ajar from where I was standing. I crept closer and blended in with the wall, sliding nearer to the door. I could plainly hear Japanese male voices, and over these I could hear raised female voices further away. I froze as one of the females emitted what sounded like a cry of pain. Then there were more male voices, and then again a female cry. Was it Cindy? What on earth was she doing? I slid through the door into a corridor and moved along to where I thought the sounds were coming from. Two Japanese guys passed by, with me tight up against the wall in the shadows. I came to a room with a closed door incorporating a small window and peeped through. My eyes opened wide, and I nearly dropped my F2. Inside the room were a throng of Japanese press guys and photographers, all cramming round a wrestling or boxing ring. Inside the ring, Monster Ripper was posing, with what looked like a very dazed and dishevelled Cindy Crawford. She held Cindy by the hair, with Cindy in a one piece white costume half ripped off her, displaying her belly and most of her left breast. Cameras clicked as Ripper dragged the supermodel around the ring. I could not believe my eyes. Instinctively I raised my camera, but realised I need a better view. It didn’t worry me that Cindy had broken her agreement regarding the photo call, I just had to get shots of this set before the rest of the western journos figured out what was going on. I found an air vent which crossed the room in which Ripper and Cindy were posing. Climbing up on a drinks machine I was able to slide into it and crawl along. There I worked on the mesh below me, and dislodged a ceiling tile, sliding it to one side. A clear view of the ring opened up and I hurriedly pointed my zoom lens at the scene below. Above the noise down there no one had heard a thing. I fired of the motor drive as Ripper seemed to be bending Cindy in two over her thigh. What a pose! I hadn’t realised this was to be an actual wrestling match shoot! Cindy Crawford wrestling, that would sell like anything. Did she know she was flashing so much of her left breast? Anymore and we’d be treated to a nipple! Then as I watched, I realised something was definitely wrong. Cindy looked a mess. Her face and hair looked like she’d gone a round with Ali. She looked very dazed, and wobbled on her feet as Ripper positioned her for the next shot. Then in a quiet moment I heard the clear sound of Ripper’s fist striking Cindy Crawford’s body. The Japanese brute was really fighting! She was really hitting Cindy. No wonder Ripper’s team had spirited Cindy away and locked the doors. This was an illicit shoot. They were abusing Cindy, and tomorrow every paper and magazine in Japan would be carrying pictures of the American supermodel fighting Monster Ripper. Ripper was shouting something in Japanese as she repeatedly pounded her fist into Cindy Crawford’s lower back and kidneys, holding the model tummy first against a ring post. Again the hair hold, and Ripper twisting Cindy’s head back, a muscular arm delivering further punches into Cindy’s gorgeous body. I carried on taking shots myself, aware of the scoop I was witnessing as suddenly Crawford’s C cup breasts sprung free from the shredding costume, and were immediately treated to some vicious looking punches. I watched as Ripper threw the topless supermodel into the post and worked her over with her fists. This wasn’t an ordinary wrestling match. I wasn’t a big fan, but I knew punching like this wasn’t usually allowed. Ripper was pummelling every part of Cindy Crawford’s much admired body, with Cindy barely conscious, mewling like a kitten as she was beaten. The Japanese surrounding the ring roared Ripper on to new heights, roaring as she lifted Cindy high (in a military press) and dropped her thong clad body on the mat. Now the monster Japanese wrestler was rag dolling Cindy around the ring, punching and kicking her at will. The journalists encouraged Ripper, delighting when she crushed the topless model in a bear hug, exulting when she turned her attention to Cindy’s belly and breasts. I was spellbound. Ripper was doling out the beating of her life to Cindy Crawford. Crawford’s face was struck repeatedly as cameras whirred. Close ups of breast claws, thigh wrenches, knees to the kidneys, punches to the stomach, were all captured, to be shared with the rest of Japan the following day. I got a beautiful shot of Cindy’s head being jolted back, eyes dimmed, while her breasts quivered, thick hard nipples in glorious focus. Eventually, after I had enough shots to work with, I just watched to satisfy my desire to see more destruction. I wasn’t disappointed. For over half an hour Monster Ripper worked on Cindy Crawford, repeatedly bringing her round with water splashed to the face. Each time the Monster would rip into some luscious part of Cindy Crawford’s delicious body. At the end Cindy was left in just a thong, splayed in the corner, and used as a punch bag. Each photographer was invited forward and given his own private opportunity to shoot Cindy Crawford and Monster Ripper. Ripper would beat Cindy wherever the journalist wanted. Most went for Cindy’s breasts or belly, some for her face, and one or two for her ass cheeks or thighs. When they had done, the journalists and most of the Ripper’s management left. Ripper’s two female trainers remained. The three of them revived Cindy Crawford, and in private, so they thought, they proceeded to abuse the supermodel for a further half an hour. Finished with her, and satiated, the three Japanese women left together leaving Cindy Crawford, naked and glistening, laying unconscious in the ring. When the coast was clear I dropped down into the room, and slid the bolt on the door. I placed my camera down and climbed into the ring, kneeling beside Cindy. I wondered what it must have felt like to punch her, pressing my knuckles against the flat of her tummy. She was astonishingly beautiful, even beaten up like this. I touched her cheek, and ran my fingers through her hair, she didn’t stir. What should I do with her?