King of the Ring

FOR ROCK)

1999-

She was dead.

Debra was out of a job, creatively speaking. Jeff had gone to WCW- who was she supposed to manage now? She bit her lip, trying to not look like a nervous wreck backstage- but her hands gave it away. She fumbled with her short skirt, with her long hair, with her small change purse- anything that was in her limits she could fidget with she did.

"God damn it all." She paced. Jeff was in his right to go. Hell, he wasn't getting pushed. But her contract wasn't up yet, and she didn't feel like sitting on it either. There was a lot she could give, if someone would just give her a chance. Seeing as how though that she aligned herself with someone who had jumped ship, it was going to be hard.

She glanced up toward the monitor as the Rock had finished his match against the Undertaker. He lost. She winced. The Rock was on a bit of a loosing streak- which of course, was good for her. Men when they loose a major match begin to worry. Did they still have it? Could they regain it if they didn't? Well, of course the Rock still had it, but even gods in the ring were men once they left it.

And men always had doubts.

At least, that's what she was hoping for. Men hired women like Debra for insurance. To make sure they did well- and that's more than what she intended to do. She ran to the nearest mirror and freshened up her make up, fixing her long hair and skirt, and pushed the girls up to make them nice and visible. Glancing up again at the monitor, she had just enough time to get to the Rock's dressing room to wait for him.

Or rather- to pounce- but proper ladies didn't pounce.

She stood outside of his door, one long, elegant leg propped against the wall, her hand cocked elegantly on her hip as she examined her long nails on the other. She played the part of "cool" very well as she waited for her target to appear backstage.

The Rock was livid. He had just lost AGAIN, but this time it was for a tittle? The most electrification man in sports entertainment did NOT lose tittle matches, even against opponents liken The undertaker. Most people he passed as he stormed down the hall way were quick to move, even the other wrestlers. The Rock was not someone you wanted to be around when pissed.

His knee hurt, he always had problems with his knee and at the moment that was causing him to limp. He sneered at the thought of what the "Great One" looked like limping through the halls after getting whooped by the Dead man. He wasnt paying one little bit of attention to anyone else, he was focused completely on himself and what he had done wrong?

Was he losing his edge?

No, that couldn't be! Besides, Dewayne "The Rock" Johnson did NOT go around second guessing himself, he was the brahma bull, the peoples champ...
But even so he had just lost his king of the ring match.

The Rock was tugged out of his thoughts once he got to his private dressing room only to find the lovely Mrs.Debra waiting outside of it. He stopped around the corner, popping his neck and shrugging his shoulder. He had to be presentable in front of the ladies, especially one of such standards.

"Now what would the lovey Mrs.Debra Marshal want with the Rock? Doesn't she know he is in no mood to sign her an autograph?" Dewayne raised a brow at her. "Or is she not aware that The Rock can hear his bed calling his name from the motel and would like to get to it?"

Debra pushed slowly off the wall, walking slowly over the Rock. She circled him, her movements slow and deliberate- her hips swaying seductively from side to side. "Ms. Debra Marshall is in a bit of a pickle. Ms. Debra Marshall sees that the Rock is in a bit of a pickle as well." She drawled out, stopping in front of the tall, built man. She was tall for most women- and stood on the level with her best friend Jeff. But Rock over powered her for sure.

"So...I was jus' thinkin' that you an' me... we could help each other out. I need to manage someone. An'... ya'll could use an insurance policy out there in the ring, don't ya think darlin'?" She dragged her finger down his chest, looking up at him with those dangerous blue eyes.

"Someone who can make sure that your opponent is always down for the count. One. Two. Three." She smirked at him and pulled back a bit. "What do ya say, darlin'? Let me manage you an' ya'll will always remain on top."

The Rock raised he eye brow, letting himself think this over. He didn't need help, he was The Rock, of coarse he didn't need some womens help but....
The Rock might just get something out of this.
"Mrs.Debra, you should know The Rock will always be on top! I have climbed my way to the top by laying the smacketh down on everyone one here! But....I might need someone to get the millions of the thousands of my adoring fans stirred up before I put the Rock bottom on taker's Candy Ass next time."

He gave a charming smile, extending his hand.

"Mrs.Debra, You have yourself someone to manage." The Rock took her hand, winking as he placed a kiss to the back of it before letting it go.

"I am not tryin' to take away from your legacy Rockie honey- not one bit." She put her hands on his hips. "But everyone... falls sometimes. I'm glad ya'll have decided to take a hand up- only a fool would pass up a helpin' hand from a gorgeous gal like myself..." She winked playfully.

"An' my puppies here- they're crowd pleasers Rockie honey." She pointed toward her large breasts that were on a pleasing display- thanks to her earlier adjusting. "They'll get the crowd up on their feet ready for ya'll to knock im' right back down again." She smirked as he kissed her hand.

"Such a gentleman." She purred out. "I look forward to doin' this with you... But maybe I should let ya be. Ya'll mentioned that ya needed a shower an' a bed. Unless... ya'll wanted to get further acquainted." Debra dragged her graceful finger down the middle of his chest. "But ya'll will still have to shower first. Non-negotiable."

The Rock laughed aloud. "Of coarse. I wouldn't dream of being around such a classy lady as yourself like this...." Even though most girls wanted him either way no matter what he smelled like at the moment.

"Your "Puppies" might get me into from trouble in that ring. No offense but it is hard too look away once you have set eyes on them. He wouldn't deny that he had been looking at them, he was no ashamed of it one little bit.

The Rock was not worried about such a lady taking his legacy away, if anything he would be better know for it. The lovely Mrs.Debra Marshal to manage him. She had her work cut out for her that for guaranteed.

Debra snickered and shook her head. Jeff always would yell at her for that- for being too distracting to him in the ring. "I guess ya'll will have to deal with friendly fire there, Rocky honey. Then again, I could always... cover them up." She buttoned up the buttons on her blouse until the puppies were back in the dog house.

"Why don't ya'll get showered up. We'll go get a drink. My treat for my charge." She offered. "Gotta treat my most high profile client EVER to a good time. It's part of what I do as a gentlewoman. There's a bar at the hotel. Meet me there in an hour." She walked past him and swatted at his ass. "See ya then."

The Rock watched her go, his eyes trained on the swaying of her ass. Yes, Dewayne would have a good time with this. He stepped into his locker room, already unclothed before his door opened again and he hollered.
"I want the girls out to play!!!"

He packed up and went back to his hotel room, showered off, made sure to use the best smelling soap he had. He got out and went through his routine of putting on clothes and fixing his hair and brushing his teeth, making sure they were white as he could possible get them.

The handsome man checked himself in the mirror, flashing a smile at his reflection, winking to himself. He looked amazing and he knew that. That little face made him all the more dangerous.

Debra sat at the bar, her hair pulled back into long thick curls- her make up done up very well. She wore a plunging neckline top, her large breasts fully on view to the lucky bartender. Debra obeyed the 60-40 rule however and wore a pair of form fitting jeans. If you were going to flaunt the top, you hid the bottom. Not that her legs were ever something to hide.

But she saw Rock looking down at her breasts more than a few times. Figuring he was a breast man she dressed for the occasion.

She toyed with her jewelry, watching the door while her drinks sat around her. Many men were sending her glasses, which she didn't accept as they grouped around her like little trophies holding amber liquid. She glanced at the clock, knowing her date wouldn't pass up this opportunity. He was due to arrive in any minute now.

And The Rock was there only two minutes later, stepping into the bar with an air of confidence and catching the eye of almost every women in the joint. How could they not look? He was dressed in a shirt that hugged his body close, showing off the outline if his taught abs, the bulging triceps and biceps of his arms. His faded genes giving no room left to the imagination with the nice bulge in his pants, the curve of his hips, and muscular thighs. The man was a sex god, that was all their was to it.

He strolled to the bar, ordering himself a drink as he sat in the stool next to Debra, his eyes roaming her luscious body, pausing to pay extra attention to the ladies and and the lay those gene hugged her delicate hips.

"Evening Debra." He nodded to her, as if he hadn't been checking her out up and down only a second ago but of coarse, it was no secret he admired her gorgeous body.

"Evenin' Rockie honey." She smiled turning her head a bit to check out her male companion for rherself. Everything that he was worth selling was on view, and despite her claim a few other women were trying to buy him up too. She reached out and took his arm casting a look over her shoulder at the other women in the bar, letting them know this one was hers.

"Look at you, walkin' in here like ya'll own the place- lookin' so damn fine in your clothin'. I can almost see your future children, an' I like it. Nothing sexier than a man with confidence." She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "So lets get the whole unpleasantness of business outta the way, hmm?"

Debra sat back in her bar stool, grabbing up her drink and toying with the swizzle stick. "Ya'll are aware of my typical manager style. I come in, distract your opponent with my good looks- it never fails unless... well, friendly fire." She coughed into her fist in embarrassment. "But even then- I gotta couple a tricks up my sleeve. Depends on how dirty you want to make things." She put her drink down, sucking the alcohol off the stick between her plump lips slowly, seductively. "How do you feel about the use a foreign objects durin' your match? Ya'll wanna play our partnership as hardcore heels, or maybe ya'll wanna play it as me doin' all the dirty tricks while you remain oblivious? You're so over with the dang crowd it really doesn't matter to me."

Dewayne was more focused on her lips and that straw. "Your looking pretty damn good yourself Mrs.Marchall." He ordered himself a Jack Daniels before actually considering all of this manager stuff. He had never been someone to want or need alot of help. In fact he was not here for the business, he was here to see Debra just for the hell of it.

"Well....I like to play dirty." It suited him. "I don't give a damn what other people say and God know the Rock is not oblivious when some beautiful women is helping him win a match." He was so full of himself but he had the right to be with a body like he had. He didn't have to think about the foreign objects offer. "And about the 'foreign objects' as you called them, hell yes. If you haven't noticed Mrs.Debra I am one of the best heels to ever be and I do enjoy being bad." In more ways than just in the ring.

"I don't have alot of experience with managers and stuff but by the way your talking im sure going to enjoy having one." He looked her over again. "Especially one as fine as yourself if you don't mind me saying that is." He got his drink, taking a large gulp of it. He had been wanting a Jack Daniels for some time but this was his perfect excuse to get one, to get a manager, to get titles, and to catch a fine piece of ass like Debra.

"An' why would I mind hearin' somethin' like that, Rockie?" She smirked at him and leaned back in her chair. "I'm glad ya'll are on the same page with me then, so I'm guessin' with the business end of it outta the way, we should focus on the pleasure part hmm? Ya'll should know that I don't manage people unless I like im' on some level..." She purred slowly and reached out to run her hand up his arm.

"Ya'll gotta think that there's some benefit for me involved. Hangin' around the Great One is decent enough, but..." She trailed off, dragging her finger down his chest. "You know us girls, Rockie honey. We always want jus' a lil' bit more." She stopped her finger just above his belt buckle. She tugged on it playfully.

"I'm sure ya catch my drift."

Dewayne smirked, his eyes roaming her body. "Mame' you know the Rock is the same way, I do not associate with people who can't help me in some way. Not only are you helping me but there aren't many ladies with the sex appeal to rival yours Mrs.Marshall, if you don't mind me saying." His muscle rippled under her touch.

"Yes mame I do and I believe the Rock is drifting that way with you. Now the Rock is not a girl but management was not his sole reason for taking your offer." Dewayne licked his lips, his eyes glued to her large breast.

"The Rock things he might just want you to come home with him so we can get more acquainted if you don't mine Debra."

"Well, madam Marshall was hopin' the Rock wasn't a woman. That'd be odd." She teased lightly. "Annnnnd, a lil' flattery goes such a long way with a southern lady like myself..." She smirked and put her hands on her hips.

She watched his eyes travel down to her ample breasts and cocked a brow. "Oh... Oh, I get what ya'll are sayin'. Ya like my big, beautiful.... eyes." She grinned. "Sorry, couldn't help it. But darlin'... I understand what ya'll are gettin' at. A night with the Rock? Why, Ms. Marshall would be a fool for passin' that up." She got off her stool, grabbing her purse.

"So... what are ya'll waitin' for Rockie? Come on. Come take me home."