Winners and Losers (Part 2)
Written by iluvwrestlegirls@gmail.com
Jamie competes in an athletic reality show

Directed by and dedicated to Jamie

The contestants were to spend the next week sharing a lavish Los Angeles mansion, which was 
also to be part of the winner's prize. It had 8 bedrooms, its own personal gym, cinema, bar, 
tennis courts, and infinity pool overlooking the Hollywood hills. The front double doors burst open 
and Jamie strode through, the first contestant to enter this magnificent work of modern 

architecture. She was wearing a revealing summer dress with Prada sunglasses, a pair of 
designer heels and she was pulling a small but expensive looking luggage bag on wheels behind 
her. She strolled casually through the entrance hallway, her gaze barely acknowledging the 
exclusive works of art hanging on the walls, or the trendy sculptures sitting atop pedestals. It was 
as if she was planning what to throw out in the trash once she had won it for herself fair and 
square.

In contrast, the guys made their entrance whooping and hollering. Some of them were from 
poorer backgrounds and could not contain their excitement at being invited to stay in the most 
luxurious setting they had ever seen. Even the richer college graduates were impressed, 
examining the artworks carefully. Jamie had climbed the staircase to find her room and turned to 
look down on her fellow competitors with a contemptuous snort. What a bunch of losers. Despite 
being the only female in the house she exuded supreme confidence, standing up high with her 
hands on her hips. She stayed up there eyeing the first few guys to begin climbing the stairs, but 
before they could talk to her, she whirled away to her room, slamming the door behind her.

This pattern continued through the week with Jamie distancing herself from the rest of the group. 
She kept her shades on a lot of the time, but the cameras around the house would sometimes 
catch her looking at the men with disgust, like she was watching a bunch of dirty animals, 
especially when they were eating. The rules of the house forbade anyone from bringing their 
mobile phones in, but for some reason Jamie seemed exempt from that rule. Instead of mingling 
with her fellow competitors she would sit and talk noisily on the phone for hours.

"Ya, it's ok here, I guess? But it's not as nice as back home. I miss my Porsche soooo bad, I'm 
totally stuck in this place with all these los -"

Jamie stopped mid-sentence, sensing someone was listening in on her conversation. She turned 
to find Chuck looking at her with an amused expression on his face. Jamie thought he looked like 
a typical meat-head. He was always asking the other guys "what do you bench, bro?" and just 
generally strutting around like his big arms actually made him a tough guy.

"Can I call you back in like 2 minutes, Sandra?" then she snapped her phone shut and turned 
angrily on Chuck.
"Well? What the hell do you want?" she spat. Chuck seemed shocked by her attitude but tried to 
play it cool.
"I was just wondering what you had to do to get a phone in here? I thought they were off limits."
Jamie seemed about to reply but then smirked, as if deciding speaking to Chuck wasn't worth her 
time.
"I don't have to answer to any of you. Now, I'm going to resume my phone call and if you 
interrupt me again I will make sure to get you thrown out of the competition. Don't you have 
anything else to do? Go give me some privacy."
Jamie was sat in the main lounge with her feet up on the couch, Chuck stood to her side. Her 
words clearly stung him but he stayed civil.
"Whatever game it is you're playing in here, I don't like it, girl. You may have done well at soccer 
but who cares about soccer, it's not even a real sport."
Jamie looked straight at him as she resumed her call. "-so like I was saying, I'm stuck in here 
with these losers. Ya, this one guy is giving me grief for talking on the phone, can you believe 
that?" Jamie listened to her friend, nodding. "Ya. Ya. Oh my god you're totally right, I totally 
should, maybe I will!"

As she descended into a fit of girlish giggling, Chuck decided he'd had enough and continued on 
his way to the kitchen. He had just finished lifting in the gym and needed to fix his protein shake. 
It seemed like if Jamie wasn't hogging the couch or working out for hours in the gym she was 
either at the end of the infinity pool, or lounging beside it in one of the wide range of beachwear 
outfits she had brought along, just casually browsing the internet on the phone she wasn't 
supposed to be using. The other guys could not help casting the occasional admiring glance in 
her direction as she performed her crunches or just simply soaked up the sun, but any time one 
of them was so bold as to approach her and try to make even the most polite small talk, she 
would cut them down just like she had Chuck. 

"Man, I would love to either give it to her in the bedroom, or put her in her place in the 
competition, either one would make me a very happy man," was the way Henry had put it one 
evening, out of her earshot.

Finally, the time had come for the next challenge. Ugly Chris had been following the 
developments in the house and now never missed an episode of the show. And he wasn't alone 
either. After what she had done in the soccer shoot-out, CBS' audience figures for 'Winners and 
Losers' had shot through the roof. The question on everyone's lips was; could she do it again?

The contestants were led out onto the mansion lawn. Jamie had opted for a similar outfit of 
sports bra and spandex shorts, this time in lime green and azure blue respectively. Combined 
with the bright white of her short socks and track sneakers, and her tan skin, she looked as 
radiant as ever. If her choice of color scheme was less provocative this time, the fact that her 
shorts were just that little bit shorter, and her bra cut just a little closer, made up for it. 

"Welcome, competitors!" echoed the reassuringly professional voice of Chip Chipperson. "Last 
week we tested your skill, but this week it is time to test your speed. Which of you are Porsche 
engine-Winners and which of you are the useless old clapped out Ford-Losers? What better way 
to decide than a series of 1-v-1, 100 meter sprint challenges? This is a one-shot deal, the loser 
will be OUT of the competition with no further notice. Are you ready to be a winner?!"

The guys all yelled, but somehow Jamie's girlish voice, clear and powerful as a bell, came 
through the clearest. "I am one already!" was all she said. She sounded angry at the fact that 
Chip would even ask such a question. When the guys looked over to the source of such a 
strongly made statement, she stared them down coldly. 

The races began, and passed with a total lack of interest from Ugly Chris. Even the camera 
seemed obsessed with Jamie, constantly cutting back to her (unimpressed) expression after 
every race. Then finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived. "Next up, Jamie and 
Pete!"

Jamie again made a point of walking ahead of her male rival for the interview with Chip.
"Jamie, after your perfect 3-0 score in the soccer last week expectations are high for you today. 
The situation in the house must also have put pressure on you, with everyone turning against 
you. How do you rate your chances today?"
Jamie smiled warmly before answering. "Great question, Chip. Yes expectations are high, 
because I expect great things from myself. I don't care what anyone else thinks, really. Not even 
you, Chip! There's no way this guy can beat me. I'm a great sprinter."
Chip's eyebrows raised, and the television executives back in the studio shot each other thumbs 
up as the ace up their sleeve, Jamie, once again performed as marvellously in front of camera as 
always.
"And Pete, I mean how do you respond to that? Do you think you can stop her, our only female 
competitor, from taking another man's pride on national television?"
Pete cleared his throat. He was a fairly short for a guy, at around 5'8, but he was in peak 
condition and had a clean-cut look, with a tidy centre-parting haircut.
"Look, Chip, I'm not going to be drawn into an emotional confrontation with Jamie, because I 
know that's her tactic." He looked to Jamie as he said this, but she ignored him, just showing him 
the tender young skin of her neck as she arched her face away from him.
"I know I'm a talented runner, and I know guys are faster than girls, so I'm going to win. It's as 
simple as that, Chip."
Jamie turned to Pete and decided to take over Chip's role as interviewer. "What kind of running 
do you do, Pete?" she asked in an honest tone.
"I run 1500m track and have competed in Ironman competitions too. I once ran 3 marathons in 3 
days so don't underestimate me."
Jamie's face suddenly lit up, a disturbingly manic grin twisting her beautiful features. "Oh! I see! 
So you run long distance! You don't have a chance in a sprint against me, and I'll bet I'd beat you 
over a mile too-"

Chip decided Jamie's antics had gone far enough, and as Pete's face lost its composure and he 
started squaring up to the smaller Jamie he intervened. "Ok, ok folks! It's time to get this show on 
the road. Competitors, please take your places on the starting blocks!"

Jamie had really fired herself up for the race with her trash talking antics. Unlike her relatively 
relaxed state back at the house, she was once again a vibrant ball of energy, bouncing back and 
forth on her feet, shaking her hands out, breathing deeply through her nose, a light sheen of 
sweat making her long smooth stomach glisten in the sunlight. Pete stretched out a little and 
looked over for a fraction of a second but when he saw that Jamie was staring straight ahead 
ignoring him, he too focussed on the track ahead. All he kept in his vision was the lane, and the 
finishing tape. He'd ran many races in his time, and now was maybe the most important of them 
all with pride, and a whole lot of money, on the line.

"On your marks!"

Jamie dropped into a crouch and looked very professional, like the sexiest Olympian athlete the 
world had ever seen. She kicked her feet out straight behind her as she settled into the blocks, 
aligning her fingers carefully on the starting line. Pete was more accustomed to races where you 
started standing and so seemed clumsy in comparison.

"Get set!"

When she popped up into her 'ready' position, Jamie really stuck her butt high up in the air. Ugly 
Chris almost came in his pants right there and then, sad fuck that he was. It was like she was 
saying "Here. Look at my perfect ass, losers." She had a butt that looked like you could break a 
ruler across it if you spanked it hard enough. Ugly Chris watched it many times in slow motion, 
the way it just jiggled slightly as she stuck it up, but then her entire body fixing in a rock-solid 
position as she awaited the starter pistol.

Pete looked much less elegant, his own posterior a whole lot lower than agile little Jamie. Pete 
couldn't see her, as he looked down at the starting line, but he could sense her next to him, 
hearing her breathing, and smelling her sexy perfume. The wait for the starter's gun seemed to 
take forever. Straining at the leash, ready to run, the tension got to Pete and he prematurely shot 
out of his blocks, committing a false start a clear half second before the sound of the starter's 

pistol. Jamie sprang from her crouch to bound after him, the two drawing level as they slowed to 
a halt to restart.

"What's the matter, Pete? You scared?" Jamie jibed, not resisting an opportunity to sadistically 
torment her rival.
"What the hell is your problem? I-I told you I don't normally run sprint, this is new territory for me."
"This is my territory, Pete," replied Jamie, both of them speaking softly as they walked back to 
the blocks to restart.
Pete cursed himself, realising he was being drawn into her games. He needed to stay focused. 
"If you don't knock it off I'll complain and -" he started to protest, but Jamie was already back 
down in her crouch, smiling to herself. Pete didn't like how quickly she had caught him after his 
false start. He had a quick flashback to poor Jake's destruction the previous week then shook his 
head and dropped to his crouch beside her.

"One more of those and you'll be Loser by default, Pete!" reminded Chip as he subtly ogled 
Jamie's delicious ass through his shades.

"On your marks!"
"Get set!"
Pete channelled all his experience. He may not specialize in short distances, but he was 
renowned for his sprint finishes in his long distance running. He had the rare ability of finding 
hidden reserves of willpower of a surprising depth when it mattered. As he raised himself in the 

blocks, he managed to clear his mind, to find that empty place where it was just him, his body, 
his heartbeat, and the sound of the starter's gun. He felt himself push at the exact instant the 
noise reached his ears. If he had 100 attempts he would never have been able to match the 
degree of fluidity and precision of execution of this start. He was up straight and sprinting in no 
time, executing every step to perfection.

Then, at around the 20 meter mark, he heard her voice.

"Come on, Ironman! Is this all you've got? Seriously?"

She was right alongside him, matching him step for step. In fact, her start had been better than 
his. Her petite body packed so much teenage power, she channelled that same athleticism she 
used to blast those three devastating penalty kicks past Jake, from her butt, her thighs, her 
calves, and even perfect upper body form, each pump of her arms, all of it combining to generate 
more raw power and speed than Pete could ever hope to match. Although she'd known it all 
along, it was only once he'd heard the tone of her voice drift across to him as they sprinted, that 
Pete realized the truth.

And now she was coasting right next to him, deliberately matching her pace to his, as he dug 
deep and tried to find that extra level he knew he possessed. He glanced over and saw she was 
actually pulling away from him a little. She even looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

"Come and get me, Ironman! Come ooonnn, show me what you've got!"

Pete kicked up a gear, he found that extra strength. His legs were burning up, his feet smacking 
against the ground loudly (while Jamie was light as a feather), but as ungainly as he seemed, he 
did markedly increase his speed. For a second he gained on her, but then she extended her 
stride, her silky tanned legs flowing in effortless co-ordination. Just when it seemed like she 
would leave him far behind and end the contest, she actually spun around, footwork as nimble as 
any dancer, and decided to trash talk him face-to-face mid-race.
"Comeon, pick those feet up Pete!" She wasn't even out of breath, her snobby face insulting him 
so directly, her perfect tits bouncing around as she actually ran backwards and held her lead for 
a moment. "Aw, you've got nothing left, are you empty now?"
Through gnashing teeth and animal desperation Pete finally caught up with her and took the lead 
for the briefest time before Jamie spun back around and drove hard for the line. In the end it 
wasn't even all that close. Pete gave it everything he had, but he was powerless to prevent 
Jamie pulling away from him with every step she took, once she had re-aligned herself. She 
seemed to take longer, yet also faster, strides than him.
He became transfixed by her incredible butt, so sexy and so strong, the fabric of her tight little 
spandex shorts seriously stretched by the power of her strides. He would fantasize about that 
powerful sexy little butt pulling away from him, and taking his 10 million dollars with them, for the 
rest of his days. And then Jamie raised her arms and leapt forward through the finishing tape. It 
drew tight across her body before being broken, yet another victim to fall before her. Pete, in 
contrast, virtually collapsed over the line over half a second later than Jamie.

He was down on one knee, staring at the ground, breathing so hard he felt like his lungs would 
collapse. It was only 100m, but for some reason it felt like he had run 50 marathons. He could 
hear that sexy little bitch celebrating, and he never felt like raising his head from the ground ever 
again, but then something solid bumped into his head sharply. It was her thigh. Her celebrations 
had brought her crashing over to him. He looked up her legs, up across the smooth skin of her 
lean stomach, up past her gravity-defying 19 year old tits and up, way up, into her beautiful 
face... which was set into such a mock sympathetic smile that the insincerity of her eyes cut right 
through his heart. She looked like she wanted to destroy him, to end all his hopes and dreams, 
and that she was happy to do so, because he just wasn't worthy. And then he felt the tears 
come, tears of a hundred sad memories all dragged up to the surface by Jamie's humiliation of 
him. He put the top of his head against her hard thigh and looked down to her feet, his tears 
spilling to the ground.
"J-Jamie is the winner, and I am the loser!"
Jamie patted his head and made a bicep pose with her other arm, smiling sweetly for the 
cameramen.