Summer Breeze ducked underneath the middle rope and walked confidently toward the center of the ring where she faced the hard cam, flashing her radiant smile and waving to the crowd. Since joining the Midnight Wrestling Federation a few months back, she had become the most popular performer on the roster. She stood there in her skimpy two-piece bubblegum pink string bikini, a vision with perfectly tanned skin and golden blonde shoulder-length hair.
It didn’t matter that she hadn’t won a single match during her time with the MWF. The fans loved her no matter what. She was the perfect all-American girl next door. Her cherubic face and curvy body made her the envy of all the other girls backstage. She was slim and healthy, but at 22 years of age, still had an appealing layer of baby fat that she had not yet shed, giving her a softer, more inviting allure compared to the more toned and muscular women she competed against each week.
She was having the time of her life and it showed. She was making more money than ever. In addition, she felt her in-ring skills growing with each match. She had a good feeling about tonight and felt like she could even score her first victory if she played her cards right.
Her theme song, a bouncy electro-pop number, began to fade out. The referee, Billy Buckley, approached Summer. He seemed nervous and fidgety. He leaned in to tell her something.
“There’s been a change of plans,” he said.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“You’re not fighting Maryssa tonight,” he replied.
“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.
“They want you to go up against—“
A blast of speed metal began playing over the loudspeakers cutting him off. The lights cut out, plunging the arena into darkness. The crowd let out a deafening roar.
“What did you say?” Summer’s soft voice struggled to rise above the thrash music.
Billy repeated himself but still she couldn’t understand what he said. He turned away from her as if he was trying to avoid any further discussion on the matter.
Summer felt a cold shiver run down her spine. It suddenly felt as if the temperature in the building had dropped twenty degrees. She hugged her arms close to her body and turned her attention toward the entrance ramp.
Strobe lights flickered rapidly as a smoke machine flooded the entrance way with a dense cloud of fog. Above the ramp, the massive video screen flashed two words:
“MISTRESS”
“EXECUTIONER”
The crowd let out a collective roar of recognition. It was deafening. Summer had always taken pride in the response that she elicited from the fans. But this was on another level.
Who, or what, is Mistress Executioner? she wondered. She felt a sickening feeling in her stomach, a fear that she had never experienced.
She continued watching the entrance way. A figure appeared. The roar of the crowd somehow grew louder.
The strobe lights gave her opponent an almost supernatural quality. It was demonic, almost unreal.
Get a grip, Summer told herself. It’s just theatrics. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Before she could reflect on it too long, the shape at the top of the ramp began walking toward the ring.
Instinctively, Summer stepped backward. She felt her fleshy butt cheeks press up against the middle turnbuckle. She felt trapped, as if there was nowhere to go.
The shape continued making its way toward her. It moved slowly, deliberately. With intent.
As it grew closer, Summer began to get a better look.
My God, she thought. She’s huge! She must be six feet tall!
Summer felt a dryness in her mouth and throat. She tried to swallow but couldn’t. She shivered again and wished that she had worn something less revealing.
Mistress Executioner was now ringside. In one swift movement, she reached for the top rope and pulled herself up onto the apron, then stepped one leg, then the other, OVER the top rope.
Although the ring was still bathed in darkness, Summer was finally able to get a closer look at the mystery woman. It was clear now that she was well over six feet tall, closer to six and half feet tall by her estimation.
Mistress Executioner was dressed from head to toe in black leather pants and a matching bustier. She wore heavy combat boots on her feet, and studded gauntlets on her hands. She had greasy long black hair and her face was smeared with dark war paint.
She looked like she had arrived from the depths of hell.
Summer remained frozen in place. Her opponent was now only several feet away from her, and was staring intently, like an animal waiting to pounce on its prey.
The heavy metal music began to fade and slowly the lights came up, revealing the Mistress in full.
She looked ready for war.
Summer, meanwhile, looked like she was dressed for a day at the beach. She felt self-conscious and vulnerable. She wanted to run and hide but there was nowhere to go.
There must be some mistake, thought Summer. I was supposed to fight Maryssa! Surely, they can’t expect me to fight this…this…thing!
She looked around, hoping to find a familiar face, someone she could appeal to, someone who could put a stop to this.
But she was all alone.
She felt like she was having a nightmare that she couldn’t wake up from. She felt like she was the unwilling star of a horror film.
No, she thought. Not the star. The victim. The blonde who gets slaughtered before the opening credits.
She shivered once again and tried to chase the thought away.
Focus, she thought. It’s just a wrestling match. You just have to believe in yourself. You can do this!
She tried to remember her training but her mind went blank. The only thing she was aware of was the back of her bikini briefs, which had crawled up in between her butt cheeks. Without thinking, she used her index finger to free the spandex from its crevice.
It was then that she realized that the crowd had started chanting. At first, she couldn’t make out what they were saying, but as it continued, it became more and more clear.
“MISTRESS IS GOING TO KILL YOU! MISTRESS IS GOING TO KILL YOU!”
On and on went the chant, growing louder and louder with each refrain.
Summer felt a sting of betrayal. Only moments before, the crowd had been cheering for Summer, but now their allegiance had shifted to this…woman…across the ring from her. Her face could not hide the sense of sadness she felt in her heart. Her bottom lip quivered. She wanted to cry.
As the chant reached a fever pitch, the referee called out, “Ring the bell!”
DING DING!
And with that, the match was underway.
This is no dream, thought Summer. This is really happening!
Mistress did not move. A look of sadistic pleasure had spread across her face as she continued staring in Summer’s direction. She licked her lips in anticipation, as if preparing to dig into her favorite meal.
Move your feet, thought Summer. She’s big and she probably can’t move as fast as you. Just keep moving and look for an opening.
Summer began inching her way out of the corner, slowly shuffling her bare feet, remaining close to the ropes, all the while keeping an eye on Mistress Executioner. The towering woman remained in the center of the ring, never taking her eyes off of her opponent.
Summer felt a deepening pit of nausea in her stomach. She resisted the urge to vomit. She bit down on her lower lip to prevent it from trembling.
The audience had reached a fever pitch. They had simplified their chant and were now repeating two words over and over: “KILL HER! KILL HER! KILL HER!”
Summer’s instincts took over and she did the only sensible thing she could think of: she tried to run.
She turned away from her opponent and stepped one foot outside of the ropes.
But before she could get any further, she felt a sharp tug at the back of her head. She let out a pathetic squeal.
Mistress Executioner had grabbed a handful of Summer’s golden blonde hair and was pulling her back into the ring.
Summer was helpless to resist. She felt like a marionette under the control of a cruel puppeteer.
Mistress dragged Summer’s scantily clad body to the center of the ring. She spun the thick blonde around and thrust her arm out, grabbing her by the throat.
Summer let out a frightened gasp as she felt the larger woman’s massive hand around her neck. She shook her head frantically.
“No, please!” she begged.
Mistress wrapped her other hand around Summer’s throat and began to squeeze. Summer’s eyes widened with fear. She struggled to breathe.
With both hands gripping her neck like a vice, Summer felt her feet leave the mat as her opponent lifted her up into the air. She kicked her legs furiously and clawed ineffectually at the larger woman’s hands.
Summer tried to scream but her voice died in her throat. She thought she might black out but as her senses began to fade, Mistress thrust her young body directly into the corner.
Summer felt her back slam into the padded steel turnbuckles and let out a startled cry. She coughed and sputtered, trying to take in much needed oxygen into her lungs.
But before she could recover, Mistress was upon her, throttling Summer. The young blonde flailed about. She felt the much larger woman’s full weight bearing down upon her. She had never been so scared in her young life.
Mistress released her vice-like grip and began throwing punches. Lefts and rights, hooks and jabs, her sharp-knuckled fist hammering away at Summer’s soft, curvaceous body. Summer let out a series of shrieks and yelps as each blow blasted her stomach and rib cage:
“Oh! God! Please! Stop!”
Her tanned and tender flesh jiggled and shook as Mistress worked her over like a punching bag. Each strike landed like a cannonball fired at point blank range. Summer felt as though her internal organs were being pulverized into liquid. She lost count of how many times she had been struck as her opponent continued assaulting her with a barrage of merciless fists.
Finally, Mistress relented. She marched to the center of the ring and struck a victory pose, basking in the cheers and applause of the audience. They loved every moment.
Summer clutched her belly in agony. Her angelic face was now a mask of torment. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She had never experienced such pain before. She had never even imagined it was possible to feel such unrestrained brutality.
She struggled to catch her wind, but it hurt just to breathe. She looked around, hoping to find some way out, perhaps an ally who could help her escape this savagery. But all she saw were the faces of bloodthirsty fans, cheering on her abuser, shouting insults, and mocking her pain. She felt so lost and alone.
Before she could fully process her feelings, she turned back to face the ring just in time to see Mistress Executioner charging toward her at full steam. She had no time to react, did not even have time to scream. Mistress lunged her right knee directly into Summer’s midsection. The impact caused Summer to double over. She fell to her hands and knees, feeling as if her soul had separated from her body.
Mistress reared her leg back and delivered a vicious kick to Summer’s side. Summer felt the steel-toed boot as it connected with her rib cage and let out a tortured yowl. She rolled over onto her back, writhing around on the mat in anguish.
Mistress towered over her fallen victim, looking down on her with satisfaction, a sadistic smile spread across her face. She reached down with one hand and grabbed a fistful of Summer’s golden blonde hair and in one quick motion, pulled her back to her feet. Summer stumbled about on wobbly legs like a broken marionette.
Mistress spun Summer’s body around by her hair and delivered a rapid succession of concussive headbutts to the back of her head.
Summer felt the crack of each blast like a thunderbolt inside of her skull. Her body started to fall back down to the mat but Mistress held her upright, still clutching her by the hair with one hand.
Mistress grabbed the back of Summer’s bikini briefs and rammed her elbow several times into the base of the young blonde’s spine. Summer’s back arched reflexively as she screamed. Mistress followed up with several knee strikes into her round butt cheeks.
Summer’s scantily clad body tumbled forward into the ring ropes. She instinctively wrapped her arms around the top rope to keep her from falling and hung there for a moment, trying desperately to regain some semblance of balance.
But Mistress was relentless. From behind, she grabbed the waistline of the pink briefs and hiked them aggressively upward. Summer let out a startled yelp as she felt the spandex dig into her fleshy bottom, creating a thong-like effect and exposing Summer’s chubby butt cheeks.
Mistress stood back and drilled her elbow into the back of Summer’s head. The blow landed like a sledgehammer and sent the young blonde tumbling clumsily back down to the mat.
Summer landed hard, her arms and legs spread out in all directions. She lay there for a moment, completely still, then began to stir. She cradled her aching head, sobbing and moaning as she struggled to process the pain coursing throughout her ravaged body.
Why is this happening to me, she wondered. What did I do to deserve this?
She had no time to contemplate it any further. Mistress dropped to her knees, straddling Summer’s fallen body.
Summer held her palms up in a begging gesture.
“Please,” she sighed. “I can’t take anymore!”
Mistress laughed heartily. She ran her gloved fingers through Summer’s golden blonde locks.
“Poor thing,” she said, derisively. “I’m only getting started.”
Summer shook her head, terrified. Mistress cupped her hand over Summer’s mouth with one hand and with the other pinched her nostrils shut.
Summer couldn’t breathe. She thrashed about uselessly but there was nowhere to go. Her face turned a sickening plumb color and she feared she might pass out. But at the last possible second, the leather clad dominatrix released her grip.
Summer coughed and sputtered.
Mistress Executioner continued laughing at her exhausted victim. She was merely toying with her at this point. She had the babyfaced blonde right where she wanted. She began tracing her finger along the perimeter of Summer’s pink bikini top, highlighting the soft, plump tits underneath.
“Please,” mewled Summer.” Why are you doing this?”
Mistress smiled a wicked smile.
“I heard there was a shiny new toy in the MWF,” she purred. “And I couldn’t resist coming back to break her in.”
Slowly, Mistress began pulling on the stringy shoulder strap of Summer’s bikini top with her index finger. Summer shook her head frantically.
“No, stop! What are you—?”
But before she could even finish her question, the buxom blonde felt her top coming undone as Mistress continued lifting her finger upward. Summer tried to stop her but it was too late. She looked down at her chest just in time to see her top tear away from her tits.
The crowd let out a deafening roar as they watched the flimsy top separate from Summer’s body.
Summer screamed and tried to cover her exposed tits. But she was powerless to do anything.
Mistress raised the skimpy fabric over her head in triumph as the crowd hooted and hollered their approval.
“Hmm,” said Mistress, looking down at her helpless victim. “No tan lines!”
Summer burst into tears. Never had she felt such humiliation in all of her life.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered. “My family is watching!”
Mistress laughed.
“Well, we better give them a show then!”
The leather clad vixen stretched the bikini top with both hands and pressed it down across Summer’s throat, using the full weight of her muscular body to leverage herself down upon the hapless blonde.
Summer’s arms and legs thrashed about as she struggled to breathe. She could feel the fabric of the top digging into her neck, strangling her. She felt blinding fear, a feeling of helplessness, of loneliness, a feeling that there was nothing she could do to escape, and no one was coming to her aid. She lost track of the seconds as her eyes flooded with tears and she thought she might lose consciousness. She clawed at Mistress’s hands desperately.
Mistress smiled sadistically as she looked down at Summer’s floundering body. Just as it seemed as the innocent young blonde was about to pass out, Mistress released the top from across Summer’s throat.
Summer rolled onto her side, coughing and sputtering as the color returned to her face. She inhaled deeply, trying to get air back into her lungs. She reminded Mistress of a fish out of water.
The leather clad dominatrix gripped both of Summer’s wrists with one hand and pressed them down to the mat above her head, leaving her naked torso completely exposed.
“No,” pleaded Summer. “Don’t! No more…”
Mistress ignored her protests and began punching the blonde diva in her soft belly. Summer screamed in agony as each blow connected with her fleshy midsection. She felt each fist connect with her flesh like a wrecking ball.
Mistress released Summer’s wrists. Summer reflexively wrapped her arms around her tortured midsection. She moaned in agony.
The dominatrix looked down upon her victim with a mix of pity and contempt. She ran her gloved right hand softly up and down Summer’s beautiful tanned body, starting at her thick, fleshy thighs and gliding it seductively up along her torso, where it came to rest between Summer’s round, perfectly formed tits.
Summer recoiled at the touch of the powerful woman. She was so afraid. She bit her lip nervously.
Mistress began roughly massaging Summer’s tits with both hands, pressing and squeezing the fleshy orbs between her large fingers.
“Stop it!” whispered Summer, trying to push the hands away. “Get off of me!”
But Mistress only groped her even more forcefully. Summer’s curvy body squirmed and writhed on the mat, which only seemed to excite the larger woman. She took Summer’s soft pink nipples in between her pincer-like fingers and began twisting and tugging them about. Summer shrieked as the delicate tissue was manipulated and mishandled. Her back arched upward in response to the excruciating pain.
Summer felt Mistress’s grip loosen and her hands went instinctively to her tits. She tried desperately to massage the pain away. Tears continued streaming down her beautiful face.
Mistress leaned in close to Summer’s face and inhaled the young girl’s scent.
“I can smell you, Summer,” she said. “I can smell your fear. It’s…intoxicating. Now, let me taste you!”
Summer closed her eyes and tried to turn her head, wishing it would all go away. She felt Mistress’ slimy tongue run along her neck, up her jawline, and across her cheek.
“Oh God,” whimpered Summer. “Please…”
But Mistress continued dragging her tongue across Summer’s winsome face, until it rested on her mouth.
Summer felt the dominatrix’s powerful tongue as it forced its way between her soft pillowy lips and into her mouth.
Mistress, meanwhile, had slid her hand down in between Summer’s legs. Summer tensed up as she felt the larger woman’s fingers wrap around her crotch. Through the thin fabric of her pink bikini briefs, she could feel the bony, calloused fingers as they began rubbing up against her sensitive clit.
Summer moaned softly. She wanted to scream, but with Mistress’s long tongue jammed down her throat, she couldn’t.
The rubbing intensified. Faster, more aggressive. Summer’s heart pounded against her chest. Her skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat. She had never felt so violated, so victimized, in her young life.
Mistress removed her tongue from Summer’s mouth. She looked into the young girl’s eyes, her face less than inch away.
“What’s wrong, my love?” asked the leather clad warrior. “Are we not enjoying ourselves?”
Summer’s breathing intensified. She could feel Mistress’s fingers as they continued their exploration of her flowery feminine center.
“Please,” panted Summer. “I’m so…scared…Just…let me…go…I’ll do…anything…you want…”
“What I want, my dear,” answered Mistress, “is for you to suffer!”
Suddenly, Mistress removed her hand from Summer’s crotch and placed it on her midsection.
“No,” begged Summer. “What are you—?”
But before she could finish her sentence, Mistress clawed the soft layer of baby fat that surrounded Summer’s midsection.
Summer shrieked in agony. Her back arched upward off the mat. Never had she felt such torment.
Mistress placed her other hand across Summer’s forehead and began applying equal pressure to her temples.
Summer felt as though her skull were about to explode from the force that was being applied. Her head…her stomach…she could not decide which was more painful.
Mistress dug her fingernails deeper into Summer’s fleshy tummy. It felt like her organs were being twisted from inside out. Just when she thought it could not get any worse, Mistress gripped her fingers even tighter against her temples. Summer felt as if her head were trapped in an iron vice.
She lost all sense of time and place. Her body went rigid. The pain she felt was beyond comprehension.
Just as she thought she might pass out, Mistress released both hands. Summer rolled onto her side. She hugged her arms across her stomach and curled her body up into a fetal position. She sobbed uncontrollably. She could not understand how the match, if you could call it that, had gone on this long. It felt like she had been in the ring for an eternity. Little did she know, it had only been a few minutes since the bell rang.
Mistress grabbed a headful of Summer’s golden blonde hair and yanked her body upright into a sitting position. She straddled her body from behind, gripping her massive arm around her victim’s torso and spreading Summer’s legs into a V-like shape.
Mistress grabbed Summer’s pussy and began rubbing her hand against it, this time even more aggressively than before.
Summer could do nothing to resist. She whined pathetically as Mistress had her way with her. She felt the bony fingers through the thin fabric of her pink bikini briefs.
“Please, no,” she begged. “You’re hurting me. Oh, God…Oh, Jesus…Stop…no more…”
Her voice trailed off as Mistress continued her assault on her.
The cameras zoomed in on the young woman’s tortured face. Her bottom lip quivered and she inhaled sharply as Mistress continued rubbing Summer’s cxnt. She arched her head back. Her breath came in short bursts. It seemed to those watching that she might even be enjoying herself.
Despite all of the pain she had endured, Summer felt a twinge of pleasure spreading throughout her body.
How can this be? she wondered. Everything hurts but I can’t control myself. What’s wrong with me? I feel like…Oh, God…No, it can’t be…I feel like…like I’m going to…
“Oh, God!” Summer exclaimed. “Please, stop! I’m begging you! You can’t do this! You can’t…”
Mistress’s rubbing became more intense. She smiled rapturously as she watched Summer give in to her most forbidden impulses. She ran her other hand across Summer’s beautiful bare tits, massaging and squeezing them, then glided her hand down along the divine contours of Summer’s body.
“No,” Summer exhaled excitedly. “Please…God…stop…can’t…take…any…more…”
Mistress brushed Summer’s hair aside and stuck her long tongue inside of her ear.
“Oh,” panted Summer. “Oh…oh, God…oh, God! Oh, Jesus!”
This can’t be happening! thought Summer. How can I feel so much pain…and so much pleasure at the same time?
The answer came abruptly in the form of the most explosive orgasm Summer had ever experienced.
“Oh, God!” she screamed. “Don’t stop! Oh, fuck! Oh, Jesus! Oh! Oh! OH!”
She felt as if several thousand volts of electricity surged throughout her body. It was pure ecstasy. Celestial energy erupted up and down her spinal cord and coarsed through her limbs. A feeling of euphoria washed over her, replacing the pain she had felt only moments before. She had lost all control of herself. A warmth and wetness flooded her pussy. Her whole body convulsed from the pure rapturous bliss.
Mistress hugged Summer tightly to her own body as the young blonde continued to scream and hyperventilate. She felt pure exultation knowing that she was in complete control. She was the puppet master and she had Summer on a string. She looked at the innocent young girl, admiring her handiwork. She smiled, knowing that she could bend this shapely body in any way she desired.
Summer felt the orgasm slowly subside. Her convulsions settled into gentle tremors. It was like falling in slow motion from heaven back down to earth. Her eyes fluttered open. Her vision was blurry at first but soon she could focus. Gradually, she remembered where she was.
She was in a ring, stripped of almost all her clothes save for her skimpy pink bikini briefs. She was in the grip of a madwoman. And the world was watching.
The cameras zoomed in on her beautiful face. They had captured everything. Summer suddenly remembered that she was on live television. All of the pain, all of the humiliation had been witnessed not only by the audience in the arena, but by countless people watching from their homes all around the world. Her fans. Her friends. Her family. They had seen all of it.
Before she could process the full extent of her humiliation, Summer felt Mistress’s massive bicep grip tightly around her neck and squeeze, trapping her in a headlock. Mistress flexed her arm, tightening her hold.
Summer panicked. Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Her hands swatted ineptly at Mistress’s muscular arm.
Mistress smiled. She formed a fist with her free hand and raised her arm above her head.
Summer’s eyes widened. She tried to scream but with Mistress’s arm still gripping her neck, all she could muster was a feeble croak.
Mistress hammered her fist straight into Summer’s pussy. She loosened her chokehold, allowing Summer to let loose a blood curdling scream.
Summer’s face contorted into a mask of anguish and misery. Mistress raised her fist again and bought it down, bludgeoning Summer’s flowery feminine center.
Again Summer screamed. Her caterwauls were loud enough to raise the dead.
Mistress continued raining blows down onto Summer’s pussy. She lost track of how many strikes she inflicted upon the tormented blonde.
The louder Summer screamed, the greater the intensity of the assault. Over and over, Mistress rammed her fists down, targeting the crotch of Summer’s bubblegum pink bikini briefs.
Summer’s shrieks echoed throughout the arena. Even some of the bloodthirsty fans could no longer stand her anguished ululations and plugged their ears to block the sound. To Mistress, Summer’s cries were like a beautiful symphony of which she was the conductor.
After dozens of brutal blows, Mistress pushed Summer’s limp body aside and rose to her feet.
She stared down at the remains of her victim, admiring her handiwork. Summer was now curled up into a ball, her hands between her legs, writhing around in tortured agony. Her voice had died down to a sickly moan. She was no longer the vivacious and bubbly young woman she had been at the start of the match. She was a fallen angel, cast down from the heavens into the fiery pits of hell that Mistress presided over.
Summer lay there, just barely clinging to consciousness. Her breathing was labored. Her thick, sexy body was coated with perspiration. Her hair was matted to her forehead with sweat.
Mistress stepped out of the ring and onto the floor. Many of her fans cheered for her, but others thought she had taken things too far and showered her with boos and jeers. She didn’t care. She had work to do.
She lifted up the ring apron and reached her arm underneath, searching for something. When she found it, she smiled.
She removed a long, thick metal chain and held it aloft for all to see. At the end of it was a studded leather collar.
More cheers. More boos. It was all the same to her.
She rolled back into the ring.
Summer was now on her back, still trying to massage the pain from her tortured pussy. Her beautiful young face was wet with tears, stricken with anguish.
Mistress looked down upon her fallen opponent with contempt.
“Are you ready for your walk, little doggy?” she sneered.
Summer, still delirious from the pain, looked confused.
“What?” she asked. “What do you mean?”
Mistress grabbed Summer by the throat and in one powerful motion, lifted the young girl’s almost naked body to her feet. Summer stumbled about on wobbly legs.
“There, there, little doggy,” said Mistress, her voice dripping with disdain. “It will all be over soon.”
Summer felt an icy chill down her spine as the collar slid over her head and down around her neck.
“No,” she sobbed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because,” replied Mistress. “I want the world to see that you are my pet, and I am your master.”
Mistress tightened the collar around Summer’s neck. It constricted her throat, like a noose. Summer wanted to fight back but she knew it was useless to resist. She was at the mercy of this cruel woman, this sadist, this monster.
Mistress jerked the chain, pulling Summer closer to her, until their faces were inches apart.
“How does it feel,” whispered the icy dominatrix, “to be so helpless? To be so weak and exposed like the cheap little slut that you are?”
“Please,” implored Summer, her voice quivering. “I just want to go home.”
Mistress laughed contemptuously at the helpless girl. She wrapped part of the chain around her fist, then yanked Summer’s body forward and straight into her outstretched arm, leveling her with a patented Decapitator clothesline.
Summer’s body came crashing back down to the mat in a heap, her arms and legs sprawled out in various directions like some dead starfish washed up on the beach. The crowd exploded with cheers.
Summer lay there, not moving. The sudden blow had almost knocked her unconscious.
Mistress still gripped the end of the chain in her fist. She looked down at Summer’s lifeless body. She almost felt sorry for her. But she had gotten what she deserved.
Using the steel chain, she pulled Summer’s body back up to a sitting position. Summer was still dazed and groggy from the blow that almost taken her head off. She could barely open her eyelids.
“Now,” commanded Mistress. “Walk!”
Mistress pulled on the chain, forcing Summer onto her hands and knees. The cameras zoomed in on the blonde diva’s body, capturing her from all angles. On her perfect tits as they drooped downward toward the mat. Her thick thighs. Her round butt cheeks as they swallowed the fabric of her pink bikini briefs.
“Come, little doggy,” Mistress taunted Summer. “Time for our walk.”
Summer crawled on all fours as Mistress paraded her almost naked body around the ring. The crowd hooted and hollered, delighting in her humiliation. She was so weak that she almost collapsed down onto her face but Mistress jerked her back up with the chain.
Summer felt the collar constricting against her throat. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks. She had never felt such shame. She could not have ever imagined feeling so helpless. She thought of her family watching at home and tried to imagine what they must think of her, being treated like a dog in front of so many people. She wondered if she could ever face them again.
But before she could dwell too long on the matter, she felt the tug of the chain as Mistress pulled on it, forcing Summer up to her knees. Her back arched forward, thrusting her luscious tits so that they faced the television cameras.
Oh, God, thought Summer. I can’t take any more! I just want this to end!
Mistress pressed her knee into Summer’s back, bowing it even further into a C-like curve. The pain was excruciating. Summer’s face contorted into a mask of agony and suffering. She shook her head frantically back and forth, her golden blonde hair tousling wildly down across her shoulders.
Summer’s vocal cords were shredded but she let out one last howl, a desperate shriek of torment.
Finally, Mistress released her knee from Summer’s back. Summer slumped forward. Her head drooped down to her chest.
Mistress pulled the chain taut and looped it around Summer’s limp body, pinning her arms close to her torso.
“No,” whined Summer. “What are you doing? Stop it…please, I’m begging you…”
Mistress ignored her. She wrapped what was left of the chain around Summer’s neck and pulled it tight.
Summer felt the metal links press against her throat. But there was nothing she could do to stop it. Slowly, tortuously, she felt her throat constrict, her lungs working desperately to receive oxygen. Her face turned a sickly plum color. Her tongue protruded from her mouth. Her vocal cords emitted a pitiful rasping sound.
She could not breathe. Her eyes bulged from their sockets. She had never felt so scared. So alone. So helpless. Her vision blurred. Her consciousness began to fade. Her eyes closed.
Her head lolled downward to her chest. She was out.
Mistress released her grip on the chain and Summer’s body slumped forward face first onto the mat, her arms still bound to her side.
The match was over.
The referee called for the bell. The crowd erupted one last time.
Mistress unfurled the tightly wrapped chain from around Summer’s thick, comely body.
Summer lay there, face down, ass up. Her pink bikini briefs were still wedged firmly between her ample butt cheeks. It had been the ultimate humiliation. No wrestler in the MWF had ever faced such a brutal beatdown.
Mistress pressed the tip of her steel-toed boot into Summer’s ribcage and turned the young girl’s limp body over onto her back so that she lay there, her voluptuous tits and expressionless face turned upward toward the arena lights. The only sign that she was still alive was the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
Mistress Executioner faced the hard cam and smiled. As the referee held her hand aloft in victory, she lifted her boot and placed it on top of Summer’s chest.
The crowd continued applauding rapturously. She had given them exactly what they wanted.
She looked down at Summer’s lifeless body. There was only one thing left to do.
She bent over and reached for the waistline of Summer’s string bikini bottoms and began to pull them off. Slowly, she peeled the bubblegum pink fabric downward, revealing a honey blonde patch of soft, carefully groomed pubic hair. The crowd continued cheering rabidly.
Mistress continued sliding the briefs past Summer’s thick thighs, over her knees and down her calves, and finally pulled them completely off from around her ankles and feet.
Mistress held the flimsy fabric above her head in triumph. She balled the briefs up in her fist and pressed them to her face. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet, fragrant aroma. She breathed in the smell of pheromones, the smell offear, the smell of humiliation. It was more heavenly to her than the most expensive French perfume. She wished she could bottle it.
She inhaled one last time, then removed the fabric from her face. She looked down at her victim.
Summer lay there, now completely naked, her beautiful, soft body on display for all the world to see. A cameraman had climbed into the ring and panned the camera back and forth over her, conducting a sort of autopsy for the audience watching at home.
Summer looked at peace. Only moments before, her face had been filled with pain and torment. She had been pushed beyond all limits, used and degraded, humiliated and punished.
Mistress Executioner kneeled down beside the body of her fallen opponent. She parted the young girl’s pillowy lips, then took the balled up pink bikini briefs and pressed them into Summer’s inviting mouth.
The crowd cheered one last time. Mistress had given them everything they had wanted. She had taken something beautiful and destroyed it. Summer, so proud and confident at the start of the evening, was now humbled and debased, stripped of all her clothing, her dignity, and finally her consciousness.
Mistress rose to her feet and exited the ring. Several EMTs scrambled into the ring to attend to the fallen angel. The cameraman continued panning across her ravaged body before finally, mercifully fading to black.
