In the faraway realm of Osaka, Japan. A brilliant inventor by the name of Izanagi Hikaru, developed a prototype for a revolutionary concept in the terms of sexual gratification. The living pleasure slave. Created with enhanced stamina, endurance, durability, flexibility, agility, dexterity and an impenetrable immune system that ensured that sickness and diseases were never a factor. On top of that, wounds could heal themselves and the ability to become pregnant or menstruate was eliminated. Along with the capability of growing hair past the neck and appearing to mature beyond the age of twenty three. This female was forever willing, never questioning or argumentative and always there to obey. No matter what.
One could do whatever they pleased and their actions would never bode any negative consequences for them. However cruel, depraved, sadistic or monstrous, it made no difference. For in spite of being a living, breathing life form, she was fundamentally a thing that could be owned, like any other piece of property or possession and protested her wrongful and neglectful treatment much like a toaster would. Only this toaster had the ability to get you off. In the same exact fashion that a veteran porn star might, without the miles of wear and tear, the addiction to heroin and an assortment of sexually transmitted diseases. In short this was the perfect female. The woman that never said - no.
Not long after the prototype was constructed, Izanagi was propositioned by a wealthy yet mysterious entrepreneur, to begin mass production of the design. He was given a generous salary, a team of scientists and a massive factory, equipped with only the best and most advanced technology, as well as a cutting edge laboratory. The one condition was that he had to develop certain modifications for his design. These alterations, were to be sold as upgrades and they would incorporate every additional enhancement that a twisted mind could conceive. None of which particularly "enhanced" the life for the living doll. Each upgrade could be purchased separately and allowed the master the ability to really take the reigns and control the experience. In a way that could never be done; legally and without consent, to a regular human companion.
Production would commence without a hitch, on an almost assembly line level. The pleasure slaves, dubbed - Trixies, were grown to adulthood in the confines of stasis pods, within a matter of a few days, before they were processed, packaged and sent out, all over the world. All you needed was a credit card and an address and you too could become a proud owner of a Trixie. All purchases were final and shipments were handled, in a very discrete manner. It was a shameless operation, human trafficking without the mess of abduction and at the same time, it was also a thriving industry. Everyone wanted to get their hands on the next craze. With that hunger... that need, the business became extremely lucrative. Izanagi Hikaru had more wealth and power than he ever imagined. Nothing would destroy his empire and topple the mountain that was built upon the creation of the living sex doll.
However, fate had other ideas.
On a typical day in the factory, much like the many that passed before it and would continue on afterwards. A group of Trixies, freshly released from their incubation chambers, would open their eyes for the very first time, only this time an inconsistency was destined to occur. One of the Trixies came into consciousness unlike all the rest. Born with a keen sense of her surroundings, intelligence, total awareness, full comprehension and free will, she was instantly considered defective. Broken and sentenced to be repurposed and used for spare parts. Yet when Izanagi Hikaru came in contact with her, he could not destroy this truly unique, irregularity despite the demand for it. For when the wealthy entrepreneur caught wind of the oddity, he ordered Izanagi to dismantle her, immediately. An act that the inventor, could not bring himself to commit.
Instead, Izanagi chose to smuggle the misfit away from the factory and put her on a boat, destined for America. Her pockets lined with yen, the girl would arrive in New York and take on the identity - Rebel Star. Leaving all traces of her past and origin, behind. Rebel started her promising new life in Brooklyn, managed to get a job at a local restaurant that specialized in barbecue and eventually acquired an apartment. Over the first few years, she would devour books, watch movies and television shows and scour the internet as she learned and adapted to her new world. A feat that she accomplished swiftly, Rebel ultimately discovered the XWF, a wrestling federation that specialized in the extreme and obscene. Not long after that, Rebel Star acquired employment with the company, a career choice that seen her swiftly excel to the status of Queen. Crowned first of her kind. She unfortunately left the industry shortly after that, never to be heard from again.
Till Azrael Erebus... came in contact with her, in an almost serendipitous turn of events. Their union was one that was written in the stars and the love that developed burned with the fierce, fiery passion of the sun. Tragically, this affair to remember would be abruptly placed on hiatus, when Azrael locked himself away within the mind of a girl named Rocket. Lost, alone and utterly shattered as a result, Rebel sought solace in the one place that she abandoned, many moons ago. The XWF. Much to her surprise, she was welcomed back, with open arms and given a brand new contract on the spot. What would stem from this second chance... well that, remains to be seen...
"Tommy Wish. I knew you were a basket case before I heard the delusional ramblings that you felt the need to direct my way but damn dude, did you really have to try and push your limits there, with the same drive and ambition that you use every year at the special olympics? Wow. Talk about crackpot theories and unibomber manifestos, your shit really takes the cake. Stalking Lux? Really? Well, besides the fact that claim has zero proof and the accuracy of a ranting and raving schizophrenic off his meds, it's also highly baffling and absurd. Sure. I did what I had to do, in order to secure a possible future match but when that was done, so were our interactions. Which were almost identical to my encounters with Lacklan. Oh well, I guess I must be stalking her too. Right? I suppose everyone that attempts to catch another's attention in order to pursue a future fight, they're all crazy stalkers as well? Correct?"
"Oh poor, demented, brain addled, Thomas Wish. You are right about one thing, there is a psycho stalker in the federation but rather than pointing the finger at others in the pathetic hope of catching the deviant in the act, all you really need to do is take a glance in the mirror. There you will find all the creeper you need. The man that relentlessly and tirelessly, preys on ladies in wrestling. Biding his time and waiting to make an attack. Always seeming to be out of the clear blue but in reality, that's far from true. Isn't that right, Tommy? No, the truth is that you obsess and observe these ladies, anticipating when to strike. Not because you want to send a message or put them on notice but because blindsiding them is the closest way for you to feel a female against your body for free."
"Yeah, I'm straight up calling shenanigans on your video with that strip club 'waitress', that was an obvious hoax. Plain as day. Clearly you paid a prostitute to pretend like she was into you cause that's the only explanation that could be given for the way she acted. Like a woman of the night that was paid to memorize a script. Otherwise known as the only way Tommy Wish will ever achieve the full satisfaction of a woman's touch. Listen here you pervert after I beat you for the title, you best leave it at that. If I see you snooping around, lurking in the shadows, I will make sure that you never walk or stand of your own accord, ever again. Understand, you sick, freak of nature? Stop projecting your vile ways on others and seek help before someone like me, who has no qualms about snapping a twerp like you in half; much like Bane broke Batman's back... if Batman were a disgusting pervert that sniffed ladies' shoes opposed to fighting crime, ends you."
"This is your only warning. Consider yourself on fucking check."
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