Wrestle-rape-mania

The following very dark story has themes of non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is erotic FICTION not meant as any sort of gender, political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and not meant to happen in reality. If you have issues with such kinks, please do not read.

"Shut up you, fat, ugly, red-neck pieces of garbage," I say into the microphone, aiming it at the crowd at this independent pro-wrestling event. As I say this, I walk around in the ring, making sure to look at the people on all four sides of the ring.

"I'm The Dominant Diva, the Head Bitch In Charge, Queen of All, and you are all damn lucky to see my beautiful ass in this po-dunk, smelly redneck MAGA wannabe hick-ville," I continue, doing my best to rile the people up as is my job.

It doesn't take much to get this low-class crowd upset, not that it is hard for me as I have something of a natural charm to piss people off. What makes it easier is that there are no kids in the audience, everyone here is an adult. So to piss off the men, I grab my top and start to pull it down as if I'm going to show my tits. Of course this gets them excited but then I stop at the last moment to point and laugh.

"Please, you fucking loser. I need someone with a dick I can feel when it goes in!" I taunt to a man that said he was going to fuck me. Right after I laugh cruelly as an "ohhhhh," sound echoes from the audience at the harsh statement.

I toss the microphone to the ring announcer, who nearly doesn't catch it. I laugh at him as he frantically tries to catch it, knowing he already feels pathetic since I ripped the microphone from him when I got out here.

"Oh, you want some too?" I taunt a rather heavy-set woman on a different side of the ring. She's yelling something at me, probably something about being able to kick my ass, which is a joke as she's so fat she has her own zip code.

"Please bitch. At least I only have two tits that are on my chest instead of a pack of them under my chin," I yell to her, my voice booming from my experience at having to speak loudly. Once again this gets everyone riled up to the point where barely anyone is sitting down. Thankfully there is a lot of security here that will block anyone from trying to rush the ring.

I wasn't sure about taking this booking, but I'm glad I did. This promotion and I had a run-in about six months ago, where they claimed I screwed them over, but I really didn't. It was just business and nothing personal. But they went all about, saying how I fucked them over and they would never work with me again.

Funny how this business works, as they have welcomed me back with open arms. They called me up a couple of weeks ago, saying how the history we have would sell a lot of tickets for this special event. They wanted me so bad they guaranteed a portion of the house.

This event is called "The Revenge," and the gimmick is that each match is one wrestler wanting revenge on their opponent for something they did. Not the most creative build, but at least it makes sense.

My match would be unique as it wouldn't be against one wrestler, but against the promotion. They supposedly promoted that my opponent would be a "mystery opponent" that would represent the promotion itself.

And I will admit, they have a packed house. This is just a VFW hall, but they have at least two hundred people packed in here. There's not an empty seat that I can see. True, the lights are off over the audience, but I can still see out. It's packed in here which is crazy as I didn't see any sort of promotion for the event online. It wasn't even listed on the VFW's calendar.

Smirking as I know this is going to be a nice payday, I know all these people are here because of me. The promotion, with my blessing, told a somewhat fictional version of what happened. The real story is that six months ago I had something of a drunk, drugged one-night stand with The Booker of this shit promotion. I did it because if you get in good with The Booker, you get pushed, which is what I need to get my name out there.

But... the bastard didn't book me at all. He released the matches for the next couple of months, and I wasn't in any of them. When I confronted him about it, he said how they need to finish their current storylines first. That after they were going to bring me in for a major storyline which would feature me on top.

That wasn't going to work for me, brother. I let the ugly son of a bitch put his cock in me, so I was going to get something out of it, NOW. I wasn't going to settle for some vague promise set in the future. So I did the only thing I could think of to make sure I got his attention. I took the championship belt.

Small promotions don't make a lot of money. They make enough to keep surviving and pay their people, but it isn't a million-dollar company with lots of spare funds. Replacing their championship belt can hurt a lot financially, not to mention the way it'll make the promotion look cheap for the time they don't have it. Most people don't realize that a championship belt really can cost a thousand dollars, easy.

The Booker said I held the belt hostage while I contend that I simply forgot where I put it until I was reminded. What reminded me is that they paid me as if I did work. Got a nice little payday out of it, to which I returned the belt unharmed. Well, mostly unharmed. As a joke I left it behind the building, covered in condoms that I made look used. It was hilarious.

Pulling a stunt like what I did is very dangerous, but I've done it before. I've burned bridges this way, but it also earns you a lot of respect. When people hear about how bold you are, it carries your name along. Makes people want to see you.

"And her opponent...," the ring announcer starts now that he has his microphone back. This causes the crowd to hush for a moment, waiting to see who it could be.

Playing my part, I look at the back curtain with a worried expression. Of course, I know who it is as I was told, but I need to look as if I don't.

"... from the depths of the darkest Hell, is Tyr!" the ring announcer says in an over-the-top manner. At this I throw my hands up as if this troubles me.

I then turn to look down the main aisle, wanting to see what Tyr looks like. I knew I was wrestling him, but the guy was late arriving so I wasn't able to meet him beforehand. Was told how the match would go from The Booker.

Tyr, who has a Viking gimmick steps out from behind the curtain to thunderous cheers. The people here cheer hard for the man, which I don't see why. He's just a fat, tall hairy guy. In fact, he reminds me of Thor from that God of War video game. But the people here go wild over the asshole as if he's every wrestling hero ever.

Shrugging, I go along with it, acting as if I'm scared of the guy, even if I don't understand the booking. I am five foot three feet of solid muscle who can kick ass, but there's no way it will be believable to have me go up against that huge brute. The moment he sells my attack, it'll look fake. Even if I hit him with a pair of brass knuckles, I don't think he would notice.

Oh well. If that is the booking they want, I'll do as I promised. Let them worry about how fake it'll look. After all, all that is going to happen is I'll give the fat bastard a couple of kicks, then my finishing move and pin him. That's what The Booker wanted.

Instead of playing to the crowd, Tyr walks straight to the ring while staring me down. I shake my head at this, as if he had any authentic experience he would know he should be interacting with the audience. He's clearly over with the people here and needs to acknowledge them. But instead, he stares me down as he does some psycho gimmick.

The closer the man gets to the ring, the larger he gets. From a distance I thought he was maybe five ten or so, but now he's closer, I see he has to be at least six three, and at least three hundred fifty pounds. Hell, he might even be four hundred as he's a big fucker.

The large man reaches the ring, still staring at me. He then grabs the middle rope from the ground, using it to pull himself onto the ring's apron. Then he slides his leg over the top rope to enter the ring.

I know it wasn't part of the plan, but I charge at him. To try and make this look believable, I'll attack him as he enters. Otherwise this match will look like garbage. Hitting him when he isn't expecting it is the best way to make this fight look believable.

"What the fuck?!" I grunt as before I can bring my forearm down on his head, he reaches out and grabs my throat. He's not even fully in the ring when he does this, grabbing me with his fat left hand and holding me.

"Oh shit," I yell out as the asshole easily lifts me in the air without me having to jump up for it. Since my hands are on his, it creates the perfect leverage for him to lift me high up. He is able to hoist me well over his head and hold me there, legit choking me.

Then he slams me on my back, hard. I take the bump but damn, it's nasty. Really nasty. I land as I should on my back, but the force makes me bounce off the mat like it was a trampoline. It's so hard the wind gets knocked out of me as I bounce, flipping over to my front.

Needing a moment to regroup and get my head straight, I roll over on my side. I roll a few times, planning on rolling out of the ring to the outside so I can take a breather. I need to catch my breath and shake the cobwebs out.

"What are you doing asshole?!" I yell to the big asshole when he grabs my ankle before I can roll out completely.

"HEY!" I yell as Tyr yanks on my ankle, making my body slide over the mat. With ease he pulls me back to the middle of the ring and lifts me in the air by the ankle.

The fat asshole starts to spin me around while holding my ankle. My small frame goes into the air as I'm spun around with no way to stop it. I can't even try to kick at him as the force of the spin disorients me.

A moment later, he lets go, dropping me onto the mat, face first. It's another hard landing, knocking me goofy. The world spins after I land, forcing me to realize that this asshole shouldn't be wrestling. He's far too dangerous and is going to end up hurting me. So the first chance I get, I'm kicking him in the balls and getting out of here.

With a growl, the bastard grabs my hair and yanks. His other hand grabs a handful of my tights, right at the waistband. This allows him to lift me off the ground again. But thankfully this time he lifts to stand me up, instead of doing something crazy like tossing me out of the ring.

"A-A-Asshole, what the fuck are you doing?" I scream at him, letting my hair cover my face to mask my words.

The brute lets me stand where he has to keep grabbing me or else I'm going to fall right over. The world is still spinning, not to mention everything hurts. The way I feel... I mean, I've wrestled hour long matches and didn't feel this worn out or hurt.

In what feels like slow motion, I feel the fat asshole grab a handful of my top. My top is backless, where it stays up via a strap that goes around my neck while another strap goes across my back.

This top is meant to accent my large breasts, making my overall appearance stand out. The look I try to have is that men want to have me, and women want to be me. That my body is perfect and the way I dress shows this.

My head still feels foggy from the blows, but I feel that something has happened. Like a sixth sense is informing me that something has changed. It's a strange feeling, one that is accented by the crowd erupting in cheers. They cheer in a thunderous wild way that is so loud it is literally deafening.

In a daze I look down to see my bare tits. They are fully exposed, standing firm and sticking out, looking overly lewd. For a moment I stare at them as if they are not mine as I can't seem to comprehend why my tits are exposed... during a match. I know they are mine despite the foggy fog in my head because of my nipple piercings.

Then I spot the brute tossing the remains of my top. He throws the fabric into the crowd as if it is some sort of collector's item. This finally causes my brain to whirl with the knowledge that he ripped my top off. Grabbed it and pulled, ripping it off... on purpose.

"WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT?!" I cry out, my arms going up to cross and cover my breasts.

All my senses return in a hurry as I am topless in the middle of a wrestling match. Much like taking a cold shower when horny, it brings me back to reality, fast. It makes my heart pound and stomach drop as I hold my loose tits while turning to get out of here.

Right as I am about to move through the ropes, the asshole grabs my hair and pulls me back. I struggle at this, even trying to kick him somewhere important as this isn't supposed to happen. He's gone into business for himself, and I know I am in trouble.

"No! STOP!" I yell as the brute easily spins me so he is behind me. He then yanks my arms down to expose my tits, again. He pins my arms to my sides by overpowering me, then wraps his own arms around to bear hug me. This makes it impossible for me to move my arms at all, where my tits are more than just exposed, they become targets.

Horrified, I face the audience. I look out to see all of them looking at my fully exposed breasts. This causes them to cheer and hoot, all of them loving what they are seeing, even the women.

What most people don't know is that the cheers or jeers of a large audience has a powerful effect. It only takes a single reaction to make you feel high and on top. It's so powerful that it can supercharge you not to feel pain.

And for me, a crowd's reaction to something I've done has always made me aroused. Something about it makes me feel hot and sexy, which is why I so often hook up with a wrestler after a show. Those cheers or jeers aimed at you makes you feel in control of the world.

In this moment, those cheers make my body betray me by causing the same arousal to start. Only my body doesn't seem to understand that the reaction isn't from wrestling, but at my humiliation. Where they cheer and jeer at seeing my exposed tits. It's this arousal that makes my nipples harden, and a familiar warmth to spread within me.

Then one of the audience throws a plastic beer cup at me, where it hits my right boob. It hits and bounces off, causing everyone to cheer again. Seeing this gives everyone on this side the same idea, and a moment later trash is launched at me, aimed for my bare tits. Empty Styrofoam cups, plastic beer cups, wads of paper and more come sailing at me from them. Item after item bounces off me, while a lot hits my face and stomach. I'm pummeled with it, all while the asshole holds me in place.

I winch and whimper as the trash becomes more and more painful as beer tops, quarters and more are starting to be thrown, with so much of it hitting my breasts. Already I see red marks across them where they were struck.

Humiliated to an extreme level, Tyr turns me so I face another side of the ring, giving the new side a chance at my bare tits. They too cheer and throw trash, loving what they see as I grow paler and paler. One of them, I don't even see who, throws his full beer at me, which splashes right over my bare breasts, coating them in cheap beer.

Groaning and looking horrified, the audience erupts at being coated in beer. I'm turned to the next side, where more beer and trash is thrown. Then, as if this is a carnival game, Tyr moves me side to side, making my tits swing so it is harder for the audience to hit.

"Stop, please!" I beg Tyr as he turns me to the original side, where I am drenched in beer, water and soda, feeling so very abused. All around me the ring has trash, making this all seem so surreal. The best I can say is at least it is clean trash. Paper and plastic cups with nothing gross. Not that it makes it any better.

The fat bastard then begins to shake me. With his arms still around me he does this with ease, causing my breasts to jiggle and bounce around, eliciting laughter from the audience. Laughter that cuts right through me as they laugh at my tits bouncing around comically.

The large man repeats this for each side, giving all a chance to laugh at me and my bouncing breasts. On the last side, he lifts me off the ground to bounce my entire body up and down, making my breasts follow suit.

"Stop... please," I beg, feeling overly humiliated and aroused by this horrid treatment.

"Hey, big man. Here," a male's voice calls out. Somehow, this voice cuts through everything, making me turn to look at who it could be.

Time seems to slow down as I see The Booker walking to ringside. It's the same man that I had sex with all those months ago. The same man that I spoke to earlier that arranged all this. The same man that told me how this match was supposed to go.

For the briefest of moments I think he's here to stop this. He has to know how poorly this is going to end. That there will be police and scandals, lawsuits and prison. The internet will burn this place to the ground, making sure any mention of the promotion is viewed as a sin.

Then I see the look on his face. The moment I see that look, I know he is the one behind this. ALL OF THIS.

The Booker tosses something to the brute from outside the ring, which I am unable to see. The brute is able to keep my arms pinned with a single arm while he catches the item with his other hand. He holds the object high up, making it so the crowd is able to see, and cheer for whatever it is.

The fat asshole then lowers his hand to right in front of my face, allowing me to see what the object is. Upon viewing it, my stomach drops and I groan. I then try to wiggle free, no longer caring if I am shaking my tits as I need to get out of here.

It's rubber bands. Large, thick rubber bands. That's what The Booker tossed to the fat bastard. And there's only one place they could go in this situation.

"Stop! Why are you doing this?" I scream loudly, hoping that someone, anyone will help me.

The large man holding me lets go only to snake his arms under mine, putting me in a full nelson hold. My much smaller arms go upward against my will where the fat bastard knows he can move them wherever he wants.

The next thing I know, he's put my upper body between the second and top ring rope. He pins me there, my hips pressing against the middle rope. I'm then let go, only for him to grab my arms. But instead of pulling them back through the middle rope, he pulls them over the top rope, making my body bend in an unnatural way as the top rope is behind my shoulders while the middle rope is in front of my hips and the bottom rope is behind my feet.

"You fucking limp dick!" I howl as The Booker walks up to me as I'm trapped.

The Booker smiles at the insult, then reaches up to grab my nipples. He pinches both pierced nipples hard, making me cry out. To show just how in control he is, he shakes my tits violently by the nipples, much to the crowd's delight. They cheer and start a chant for him to do it again.

Feeling the humiliation from this almost makes me miss that the brute is wrapping something around my wrists. He's tying them together with something, making sure I can't use my hands any longer.

"She's got some big tits, doesn't she?" The Booker calls out to the crowd. He does it very much like a carnival barker, riling them up on purpose.

"Bet it hurts to get hit with one," The Booker then says, and the crowd cheers again as if knowing what this means.

"Touch me and I will see you put in jail," I warn The Booker, knowing I can't really do anything as Tyr has finished tying my hands.

The Booker grabs my right boob. Grabs it from below and with a painful grip. Tyr then grabs my hair and forces my head down, hard. He presses my chin against my chest, making it feel like he's trying to snap my neck.

I'm then punched in the face... with my own boob. The Booker lifts my tit fast and hard, making the big orb run right into my face.

Laughter and cheers ring out at this, sending another wave of arousing humiliation. Only this time my head goes a bit fuzzy as it does feel like I was just punched. The cheering does make goosebumps pop up, then a wave of warmth that seems to settle between my legs.

The Booker repeats the move to hit me in the face with my own tit, but this time doesn't do it as hard. Instead of a punch, it feels more like being slapped. But he does it repeatedly, making my boob assault my face while the crowd laughs.

"Please... no more. You made your point," I beg as loud as I can to get him to stop.

"Come on, please! Don't," I beg as Tyr moves next to me, holding the rubber bands out for the audience to see.

A chant of "do it," starts to ring out, with nearly everyone chanting it. It becomes very powerful to the point it even makes the ring vibrate. The people very much want to see him use those things on me.

Knowing there's no point in trying to struggle, I am made to watch as Tyr stretches one of the thick rubber bands out and brings it towards my breasts. There I whimper as he slides it over my right boob, then stretches the band until both tits are wrapped in it. When he gets both tits in it, he pulls the band far onto the base of my breasts.

I start to pout as I feel the thick band pressing my tits together. They are smushed together in a humiliating manner, causing the audience to cheer again. My pouting gets worse as I see just how stupid my tits look now. The way they are pressed together but angled makes me think of a pair of eye balls looking in complete opposite directions.

The cheers get louder as another band is lowered and about to be put on my tits. I shake my head and try to move down the ropes, but it's pointless. All that this does is make my smushed tits bounce. A moment later, the new band is snapped into place, pressing my tits together even tighter.

"I counted on you being, well, you. Being too stupid to see what this really was. I mean, did you really think this was a real show?" The Booker says as he stands below me on the floor.

I look down at him, my face pleading to stop this. But then I have to let out a cry as a third band is put over my tits. This one makes them pulse, feeling my heartbeat in them.

"If you bothered to do a search, you would have found my promotion closed," The Booker informs me, making my stomach drop.

"This is what you call a private event, filled with friends and loyalists that want to watch you get what is coming to you," The Booker explains, making grand motions towards the crowd.

"We had to close... because of you. The money we paid you hurt us bad, and dug us into a hole we couldn't get out of," The Booker reveals with hate-filled eyes.

I nearly yell that it's not my fault they went under. He could have called the police on me. He didn't have to pay me shit, but that's what he choose. It's not my fault he decided to pay me. He could have lived with everyone knowing about the stolen championship. Even if it made the promotion looks like a joke because they couldn't get it back by force.

"No more!" I beg as the brute puts a fourth rubber band over my breasts. When it is put on, he steps back, allowing me to stand by myself and see my large breasts squished together comically.

Dark arousal moves over me as I stare at my tits, not believing they are my own. For my tits were made to be worshipped and reviled. I even had people say that they should be put on a pedestal as they are perfect. But looking at them now... they look stupid and pathetic. They look like toys to laugh at, which makes the dark arousal swirl within with intensity.

"How about we make a deal," The Booker says as he looks up at me, looking like a kid at Christmas as I said those same words to him after I stole the belt.

"Bounce for everyone. Bounce and make those titties move... and I'll think about letting your go," The Booker offers, again using my own words against me. When we were discussing me returning the belt, I told him to cut a promo on what a piece of garbage he was and I would think about returning the belt.

My mouth opens to tell him "FUCK YOU." That I've reached a point where I won't help them humiliate myself. But the words don't come out.

Instead, I keep looking at my breasts. I have never felt so helpless or humiliated. And something about that feels... darkly good. It makes me feel alive in a way I've not felt before. It makes me, well, want more, as horrible as that sounds.

Instead of cursing him out, my emotions tell me that I have to do what he wants. Tyr alone could kill me, and then there's the audience. So it's best to go along with what The Booker wants in hopes he calms down enough to talk to logically.

With a very red face, I move to my tiptoes and back down, causing my bound breasts to bounce. The crowd cheers at this but then one of them yells out, "Bounce bitch!" This causes more to join in as I keep trying to bounce. Soon each time my bound tits bounce, the crowd as a whole chants the word.

The loud, excited yelling hits me hard. Something about me humiliating myself like this causes more arousal to be unleashed. This time the rush is so powerful that it doesn't let me stop moving, even for a moment. I actually start to bounce even harder and faster.

Time seems to stop as The Booker reaches up again, but this time he doesn't go for my tits. I actually wish he would, just so they would hit and hopefully hurt him. He instead grabs the front of my tights, right below my belly button.

"NO!" I shout but it is already too late, he yanks my tights down. Yanks them down hard as possible with the fabric scraping against my skin. He pulls them as far as they will go, which is just above my ankles thanks to the bottom rope.

With my hands tied behind me and my tits exposed, I can't do anything as everyone sees my lacy black panties. Normally I would wear a thong, but I didn't because tonight wasn't supposed to be a long match. So I choose to wear a comfortable pair of panties.

"Wed-gie, wed-gie," The Booker begins to chant while motioning to the audience. He says this to start a chant, which the audience quickly picks up.

"Don't you dare!" I shout, stopping the bouncing and struggling to get free.

Tyr then walks up behind me. When I sense him, I struggle harder. This only gets people to laugh as he reaches down and grabs the waistband of my panties right in front. He then yanks upward, pulling on my panties hard.

I shriek loudly as the fabric of my panties bunches up right between my pussy lips. It stretches and bunches up right in my most sensitive spot, causing me to twist and turn from the uncomfortable feeling.

But the brute doesn't stop or let go, he keeps pulling. I look down to see my own panties stretching, with my pussy on display. With the fabric between my lips, all of my crotch can be seen, making me feel like some sort of BDSM whore.

"Stop! Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll pay it all back!" I beg, stomping my feet as the fabric presses against my clit in the most embarrassing and painful way possible.

Laughter erupts at my reaction. Laughter at my pussy being abused. Laughter at how my tits jiggle and swing as I struggle. Laughter at how helpless and pathetic I must look.

Finally, the brute lets go of my panties, giving me some relief. My panties are still shoved between my lips in an uncomfortable manner, but it is still a relief.

"What good would paying it back now do?" The Booker asks as I pant. In a daze I stare down, looking at my misshaped panties still sticking from between my pussy lips.

"The promotion's dead. All those wrestlers lost a place to work and learn their craft, thanks to you," The Booker tells me.

I then cry out as my panties are yanked up again, but this time not in front. The brute grabs the back of my panties and pulls up, giving me yet another wedgie. Again I stomp my feet, the pain and humiliation taking over, especially as the crowd chants "Wedgie" yet again.

My eyes widen as I hear the fabric of my panties tearing. The sharp pain of the fabric pressing against me makes me yelp as my panties are slowly ripped off of me. I then beg and plead for him to stop until the fabric tears completely, ripping my underwear off.

Now my bare womanhood is exposed, as is my ass. This causes the crowd to erupt as I am completely naked. Naked, helpless and vulnerable in ways that shouldn't be allowed.

I never knew that being naked in front of an audience would make me feel this way. I mean, I have thought about doing a stripper act just to see what it feels like, but this is different. This feels extremely intense, where I know I am on the verge of orgasming, even if I'm not having sex.

"Crotch her! Crotch her!" The Booker then starts to chant, moving back and forth ringside, trying to get the audience to chant it with him. Like before, this catches hold where the entire building starts to chant.

"Please, just tell me how to make it right," I beg as he continues to move along ringside.

"NOOO!" I scream as the brute easily lifts me. He pulls me out of the ring ropes with ease, literally military pressing me over his head.

I kick and move my legs, desperate to not let whatever they mean to do happen. But my shorts are still around my calves, preventing me from kicking or moving my legs too much. It effectively ties them together, not that I could really do anything. Tyr is far too strong. He could probably hold me like this with one hand.

Gasping, I feel Tyr grab my shorts and yank them off. He is as cruel and violent as ever when he does this, not caring how much it hurts. The asshole then tosses the torn and decorative tights and my panties into the audience, where I see multiple people trying to catch them like they are a trophy.

"What do you want me to do?!" I yell out as Tyr lifts me again.

The brute lifts me high but this time he does it with his hands under my arms. He lifts me much like you would a baby. Then he hoists me up as if throwing me into the air, positioning me over the top rope.

A loud groaning moan comes out of me as I land on the top rope, making time slow down. I land on it, where it seems to move right between my pussy and ass crack. I feel the hard rope spread me open and touch my sensitive insides, much to the crowds delight.

The brute makes sure to grab hold of me, not letting me fall over to get out of this. With nothing to step onto, I have to stay like this, the rope running between my legs.

Everything goes fuzzy and the air is knocked out of my lungs as I feel that something is wrong. My heart pounds hard and for a moment I think I might be dying. Then I realize what is making me feel this way. I'm cumming.

My mouth opens but no words come out as the orgasm hits me. Feeling very violent and aggressive, the orgasm hits making me feel like my body may catch fire. The waves of pleasure hit, causing me to physically twitch and jerk as if being electrocuted.

Shrill moans come out as the orgasm overwhelms me. Rippling waves move, causing me to hunch over. The dark orgasm is so intense that everything goes dark. I can still hear the audience and their cheers at what is being done to me, but no longer see anything.

The humiliation of how I must look, not to mention my expression, increases as Tyr starts to lift the top rope while I still sit on it. The rope moves upward, pressing against my pussy in a violating manner. Then my body weight makes me go back down, sitting on the rope harder. The asshole repeats this, making me bounce up and down as I ride the rope.

My orgasm increases when I hear everyone laughing. The waves make me throw my head back, drinking in all that I feel. It makes me feel so pathetic. It makes me feel so stupid. Makes me feel that they are right to laugh at me as I look and feel beyond pitiful.

"Yes! No! Yes!" I moan as the brute slides my body, making me ride the top rope as it moves between my legs.

This dark orgasm is so intense that the humiliation makes me squeeze my legs closed. My thighs grip the top rope, trying hard to stop this as feeling like I'm about to pass out. But the brute is too strong. My body is forced to ride the rope as he pushes me along, the rope burning my thighs and pressing between my pussy lips as I grip it with all my might.

Everything suddenly goes away. My vision, my sound, even the feeling of the rope all disappear. All that remains is the orgasmic waves of pleasure that bubble from deep in my gut. They pulse and throb, refusing to fade, filling me with fear that it'll never stop.

After several deep breaths, I find myself in the middle of the ring, on my side. I am still completely naked, my body still wet and on fire, my arms tied behind me. My body feels extremely tired. More so than having wrestled an hour long match. I feel like a huge pile of goo to be mopped up.

"How about a top rope move?!" The Booker yells out to the crowd, who cheer back. He rushes around the ring, getting the people increasingly amped up.

On the mat, I wonder what this means. At this point I wouldn't be surprised if it means Tyr is about to splash me from the top rope or that they mean to molest me with the top rope.

It occurs to me that the audience are people who wanted to see this happen to me. This isn't a group of horn-dog men, but adult men and women of various ages.

It hits extremely hard that I am so much of a bitch that hundreds of people showed up to see me be violated and abused. That none have tried to stop this nor called the police. It both makes me feel like a horrible human being... as well as immensely proud.

Smiling, I see how much heat I am able to produce for people to hate me this bad. They hate me to the point they organized all this. Who else would get sort of reaction?

The brute grabs me by the throat again where I keep smiling. He picks my naked body up, barely treating me like a human as he puts me over his shoulder. There he walks over to one of the corner turnbuckles, where the ring ropes meet.

I laugh. The dark realization that I'm the best fucking heel ever makes me do it. If I have driven them to this evil, then I've truly tapped into something primal. Where other promotions will no doubt want me for the heat I can draw. Assuming I survive all of this.

"You fucking fat retarded losers! You like this because you wish you were me, you cowardly, ugly cunts!" I yell out, embracing the character they believe me to be.

The deep humiliation and helplessness makes me feel like cumming again, as if it is something I can flip on and off. It becomes a part of me, fueling the deep arousal. This makes more insults spill out of me, causing everyone to boo me much louder. They wanted me to look scared and beg for this not to happen, but as Stone Cold would say, "uh, uh." I'm not going down like that.

I'm then slammed on a top turnbuckle by Tyr. My hips slam onto the turnbuckle hard, causing me to bend where my upper body hits the cables and harness that keeps the ropes connected to the ring post. My legs stick out but I am able to lower them to the middle rope.

I laugh as my head goes fuzzy from the blow. My laughter makes the crowd get even more riled. My laughter pisses the people off, which makes me laugh harder. I laugh and laugh, even if I can't do anything to stop this.

"Yeah, at least my tits don't sag to the floor!" I yell at the same fat woman that I saw earlier who curses at me.

"Well, at least she's not getting raped," The Booker comments, interjecting himself into the interaction as he walks around.

My heart pounds as I watch The Booker roll into the ring from under the bottom rope. He rolls in and out of my sight as I can't look behind me in this position.

"Don't you dare!" I demand as I feel The Booker climb the turnbuckles behind me. Once up on the middle rope, he presses his crotch against my bare ass. Rubs it against my ass, forcing me to feel his hard on inside his pants.

"Why not? I've had this loose pussy before," The Booker says and laughs. He then slaps my bare ass hard, making a crack sound echo. It causes my ass cheek to sting horribly.

"Rape her! Rape her!" The Booker begins to chant, wanting the audience to join. When he does, I feel him pump his fist each time he says it.

With my head being forced to look out, I see the fat woman looking for something on the ground. She picks whatever it is up and then eagerly runs towards the main aisle. The security posted there thankfully stops her from getting to ringside.

I then consider that the security guards must be wrestlers as big as they are. That would explain why they aren't trying to stop any of this. They are no doubt loyal to The Booker in hopes he'll put a good word elsewhere for them.

The security guard motions for the fat woman to return to her seat, but she waves something in his face and points at me. Instead she argues with the guy until he seems to give in. He then motions for her to go, even stepping aside so she can squeeze by while he pushes others that are trying to get to ringside back.

"Don't even think about it you fat, ugly bitch," I yell at the woman as she wobbles her fat ass towards me. Right as I say this, I feel The Booker pull down his pants. He pulls them down, where his hard cock pops out, brushing against my bare ass cheek.

With my concern moving to the man about to rape me, I try to turn my head but Tyr still blocks me. I then open my mouth to inform The Booker that I'm going to bite his manhood off the first moment I get, but then something is shoved in my mouth.

The fat woman is not just in front of me at ringside, she's putting something in my mouth. Her fat jiggly arm is lifted where she tries to stuff the item directly into my open mouth. With my mouth open to yell at The Booker it is easy for her to stuff the item in.

To my surprise I know what the item is, and thank goodness it isn't some piece of trash. It's my panties. My black ripped panties that where torn off me by Tyr earlier. He must have thrown them into the crowd at her feet.

My panties are being shoved into my mouth by the fat bitch. And she is trying to stuff all of them in too, using her fingers to push every thread and loose strand in. Before I can try to push them out, my eyes roll as The Booker positions his cock at my pussy and thrusts. He slides his cock inside my very wet womanhood, where I shudder from the feeling. The feeling of his dick pushing my insides open combined with being gagged makes me quiver as a rush of pleasure moves over me.

"Rape her! Rape her! Rape her!" more of the crowd chants as The Booker grabs hold of my hips and starts to fuck me. He fucks me while standing on the second turnbuckle, ensuring everyone can see what he is doing to me as I am still bent over the top.

My body rocks with each thrust as The Booker dominates me by fucking me in front of the crowd. He rams into me each time, being aggressive and forceful as he takes me. This makes my tits swing and wild squeals to come out of me. The cheering only amplifies this.

I orgasm almost at once. The waves of pleasure hit hard, making everything go fuzzy again. The intense feeling washes over me, causing me to have an almost out of body experience as so much sexual joy floods me. The waves are so powerful and strong that I swear they can be seen over my skin.

I feel as if I go into a sexual trance as I orgasm in front of everyone. All that I am feeling, from the friction of his cock in me, to the way my body rocks and bounces when he thrusts, makes the orgasm hit so ridiculously hard.

"Damn," The Booker grunts, right as I feel him cum. He cums in me, flooding my womanhood with his as he wasn't wearing a condom, which I'm sure is the point.

I gasp at this, surprised he didn't even last a minute, not that he needed that much time to make me cum. Stunned, I don't move as The Booker jumps down from the turnbuckles. Instead I stare forward, not even seeing anything as the remains of my orgasm linger.

"OHH," I moan as I feel an exceptionally large cock press against my pussy. It makes my eyes shoot open wide, bringing me back to reality from my daze.

That's Tyr's cock. In my daze I must not have noticed that he climbed onto the bottom rope to put himself at my level. The moan extends as he slides his huge member inside me, showing it is proportionate to his body size.

My moan gets extremely loud, even if gagged as he's the biggest cock I've ever felt. His dick stretches my pussy more than it's ever gone making my eyes water in both pleasure and pain. I feel my insides stretching in a way I've never felt.

"It's our turn to fuck you over now," The Booker tells me, laughing as Tyr's cock is in me.

I can't say any spiffy statement in retort, not that it matters as I'm gagged. Instead, all I can do is savor the feeling of the huge dick going in me. How it parts me open more than I thought a cock could. More than that, it goes further inside me than anyone has ever gone.

In a deep daze where the fuzzy white border around my vision gets stronger, Tyr grabs my hips and begins to fuck me over the turnbuckle. Bent over, my bound tits swinging, he fucks me fast and hard, having no want to be gentle. He fucks me so hard I feel the ring move.

Tyr is so huge that it feels like being fucked by a semitruck. His massive hips rock back and forth, ramming into me and crushing my hips and pussy against the turnbuckle. And it feels beyond great. I'm being crushed and destroyed but love it.

His huge cock rubs against every inch of my insides making me moan like crazy. All of my sex tingles and comes alive, making me want more from him. As hard as he goes, I want more. And since I'm used to the hard knock life of being a wrestler, I know I can take it.

"Fuck me harder you dumb brute," I try to tell him but my panties stop me. He still seems to understand me because the force of his thrusts get so hard that I hear the turnbuckles starting to squeak as they aren't used to this much movement. They are getting a beating, much like I am, to which I fear they may break.

My eyes flutter and I moan louder than the crowd as it feels like I'm being fucked for the first time in my life. My pussy comes alive and if I could rock my hips or push back I would. But Tyr is so forceful and fast that my much smaller body is pinned as he fucks me.

"Rape her! Rape her!" The Booker chants with the crowd, firing them up more as they watch me being raped.

And then I cum, again. This time my orgasm erupts from deep in my pussy which I've never felt before. Most of my orgasms feel like they start at my clit and shoot out but this one feels like it starts so much deeper. It makes it feel like my soul is cumming, not my body.

To call this orgasm overwhelming would not be doing it justice. My body goes out of control as if having a seizure from the sheer force of it. I twitch and jerk nonstop, not that it matters as the brute barely lets my body move by the way he pins me. This makes it feel like my soul leaving my body as the waves of pleasure are so intense that I scream as loud as I can.

Everything goes white as wave after wave of intense sexual freedom moves over me. I can't even hear the crowd chant for me to be raped as everything goes away. All I can feel is my orgasm. I can't even feel the turnbuckle underneath me or my crushed body.

Sometime later, I wake up. Not so much wake up, but regain consciousness. My eyes flutter where I see I am still on the turnbuckle with Tyr fucking me. I don't think much time has passed, but man, my pussy feels so raw. Like it's been fucked all day long.

Tyr then shoves a massive thrust to bury his cock in me. There I feel his cock go deep in me, where he unleashes his pent up orgasm. Unlike The Booker, Tyr truly floods my womanhood with his seed to the point I feel cum escaping out of me. Where any chance it wouldn't reach within me is gone as I'm quite sure his goal is to get me pregnant.

Like the whore they made me into, I don't move or say anything when he cums in me. I remain bent as I am, accepting that he owned me, my pussy being abused all to hell.

Tyr then pulls out of me, making me feel as if my pussy is ruined. He hops down and then walks away, leaving me where I am. After he does, The Booker returns, where he climbs back on the turnbuckle to between my legs.

"Up. The. Ass. Up. The. Ass!" The Booker yells out, trying to get the audience to chant this.

Hearing this I groan as I don't want it to happen, but don't have much choice. I keep groaning when I feel what must be lube get poured between my ass cheeks. This groan turns into a whimper as I feel him put his cock right against my most private place.

Feeling too tired to move, I continue whimpering as he starts to force his dick up my ass. He is rather aggressive while doing this, making it feel like he's going to get his cock in my ass or die trying. It forces me to relax or risk him hurting me, which I think is the point.

Having had anal sex before, I know what to expect and how it will feel. That's why I don't really struggle or do anything but whimper as he manages to push his cock into my ass. I feel the familiar violating feeling, the way it feels to have something go inside you that shouldn't. I don't even react once he manages to start moving back and forth, opening the tight hole for his cock.

The audience chants the lewd statement as I'm anally fucked. Where they watch me take it up the ass as if I am some porn whore. And the worst part about it, is that I cum from it. This orgasm isn't as intense as the others, but the familiar waves move over me, letting me drink them in. Where moans are yelled into my panties so all can see that I am orgasming.

"Take it up the ass like the stupid whore you are!" The fat woman from earlier shrieks. Right after there is a volley of other statements with the audience yelling that this is what I deserve for what I did. That all the wrestlers that worked here should get a chance on me.

"There we are. There's your deposit," The Booker laughs as he cums, again. This time he took much longer, fucking my ass for at least two minutes. But with his announcement I feel him pump my ass full of his seed. Upon doing so, he leaves his cock in me for a moment and slaps my ass repeatedly.

Finally he removes his cock out of my ass, making the tight hole feel ruined, much like my pussy. It feels sore and used, knowing it'll take weeks before the pain goes away.

Tyr then grabs me, putting my naked body back over his shoulder as if I am a sack of potatoes. He then walks to the center of the ring, standing next to The Booker with a microphone, clearly about to cut a promo.

"I want to thank you all for coming out tonight. If you feel even a fraction of the satisfaction of getting revenge on her that I do, you will be smiling for the next month," The Booker says as he clearly means to do some sort of good-bye speech. The crowd cheers and claps at this, showing their agreement.

The Booker continues to speak as I zone out. More than anything, I feel like sleeping. Just wanting to curl into a ball and pass out. My entire body is so sore and tired, to which I don't think I could fight anything to save my life.

I catch parts of The Booker's speech, such as him reminding everyone not to say what happened tonight. That if anyone does, all could end up in jail. But then he states how he knows no one will say what happened tonight, as they were all invited guests that each had a reason to see me get what was coming.

"As something of a thank you for coming out, when you leave here tonight, make sure you look at the flagpoles in the parking lot. With that, I'll give it over to Mark, who will give an update on where you can see your favorite wrestlers as they go on in their careers," The Booker exclaims, passing the microphone to the ring announcer.

"Take her," The Booker tells Tyr, who seems to know what that means because he begins to walk away. The large wrestler exits the ring and drops to the floor with me still on his shoulder, tied up and naked.

As Tyr walks to the back with me, the audience continues their abuse. They throw things, yell at me and even slap my ass. Through all this, I don't react. I let the trash bounce off me, don't react when beer is thrown, nor do I cry out at my ass getting hit.

The large wrestler walks to the back but never stops. Instead he walks to the back doors and steps out into the night. There we step out into the parking lot, where the light comes from the cheap overhead lights. The brute keeps walking, taking me who knows where.

Tyr finally puts me on my feet where I lean back against a flagpole. Looking around, we are at the side of the building where three flagpoles stand, the flags high up in the air. With ease Tyr rips my hands apart, freeing me from the bounds that kept them behind my back. But before I can rub some feeling back into my wrists, Tyr grabs my left hand and yanks it over until my body is in front of the middle flagpole.

I whine as he pulls my left arm out to make it reach to the first flagpole while my back is against the middle flagpole. There he wraps the flagpole rope around my wrist. I then bring my free hand up to try and remove the panties from my mouth, but Tyr grabs that hand before I can. He pulls my right hand the other way, stretching me out again as my left hand is tied to the first flagpole and now my right is being tied to the last flagpole.

In silence Tyr works, using bungie cords that were left out here to tie my legs to the flagpoles. He ties my legs to the same flagpoles as my arms, leaving me in a spread eagle stance.

Tyr then produces a flyer and waves it in front of my face. Looking at it I see that it is a flyer for the wrestling promotion. It's for some show they must have had, only across the top of it, there is a sticker that reads "Canceled."

A howl does come out of me as the brute rolls the flyer up and shoves it in my pussy. Just jams it in, forcing it to go deep. Thankfully there's no pain or anything from it, but it feels very, very uncomfortable, especially as I feel it sticking out of me.

Looking down at myself, I can't believe what I am seeing. My tits are still smushed together by the thick rubber bands in which they've turned a shade of reddish blue. And sticking out from between my legs is the flyer, making it look like some sort of sex toy.

To finish the scene off, the brute hangs a sign around my neck. A large sign that has a rope tied at the top so it can hang down from the back of my neck. Once it is on me, it hangs very low, where it goes down to my stomach, making sure not to cover my tits or pussy.

"Thanks for coming out!" is what the sign reads.

I sigh as I read it but then feel that I'm being lifted. Tyr is pulling on the first flagpole's rope, where my wrist is tied. This causes my wrist to go up with the rope, literally pulling me off the ground. He does this for a bit, then secures the flagpole before going to the other flagpole to do the same.

Moving between the two flagpoles, Tyr lifts my body higher and higher. First one side, then the other, where I'm hoisted up by my wrists. Since the bungie cords are wrapped around the flagpole and tied at my ankles, it forces my legs apart to make me look nice and lewd.

Soon I am very high in the air. High enough that none of the audience will be able to touch me. From this height I look around to see that Tyr left. Left me tied up and naked like this. And since this side of the building doesn't face the street, there's no way any stranger will see me and call for help. Just the people exiting will see me. They will see me as a parting gift to revel in what they've done.

A loud groan does escape me as I realize there's nothing to stop any of the audience from throwing stuff at me, or taking pictures. Hell, what's to say they won't bring me down and do who knows what do me? I'm starting to wonder if that's what The Booker wants by putting me out here.

Strung up with my naked, raped and abused body on display, I actually chuckle. My laughter turns into a wild, violent laughing fit, not that anyone hears with my panties still in my mouth.

I mean, how many wrestlers could say they've gotten this much heat?