[Rowan Chance]

Landing on my back wasn't smart. I feel the electric jolt up and down my spine and I bite my lip to keep from screaming. But as hard as I land, you land harder.

The guy who invented the move was at Comic Con. I had the chance to talk to him for about ten minutes after telling him I was using the DDT as a finisher. I said, "I hate how the WWE has turned it into a transition hold." He gave his wide grin and told me a few secrets.Probably didn't hurt there was a pretty girl asking him about ring psychology and technique. And what he told me was goddamn gold.

That's why you're not moving right now, Tiff. That's why you can't feel anything. Why your arms and legs feel like they're made of cement. Because I gave a veteran the respect he deserved and he gave me ten minutes. And those ten minutes were all I needed. Those ten minutes were all he needed to turn a transition move back into one of the most dangerous finishers in the world.

And if I had pulled this move off on HER, she wouldn't just be wearing a knee brace right now. She'd be in a wheelchair.

I don't know if you got all the impact I wanted. I had to improvise. And I wasn't under complete control of the momentum. But that doesn't matter. I just take one look at you and I know it was enough to keep you down for three seconds.

That wicked grin of mine—the other thing I learned from Jake—spreads out on my lips.

Slowly, painfully, I crawl over to you. Throw my hips over your pretty face. Lean forward over your body and grab your knee. Then, I lean all the way, arching my back until the tip of my head almost hits the mat.

And that's how I pin you, Tiff. Legs on either side of your face, leaning back so my sex is thrust right over your nose and mouth, as I hook your right leg and arch my back. And you can smell and taste the sweat and steam and sex and leather. Just lay there. Just lay there. As the referee drops down.

I feel the impact of the first count in my knees on your shoulders. "ONE!"

The pain in my spine is screaming at me, but I refuse to listen. I've got a reputation. And when you've got a reputation, it's more important than the pain.

Another jolt as the ref's hand hits the canvas. "TWO!"

Just one more second. Just one more. And it's all over.

The referee's hand goes up and starts to fall...

[BustyTiffany35]

My eyes open. It's a struggle, but I managed to. And they open to darkness.

Not the cold, empty void that blanketed my mind when I was knocked out. No, the darkness I see is from having my vision totally obscured.. by pleather. Dark, black pleather pants. It completely masks my eyes and face, pressing down firmly over my mouth and nose. It feels so smooth against skin, so hot against my lips. I open my eyes a lil' wider, and take in a whiff of leather and the heat that's radiating from between your luscious legs. I realize you're sitting right on my fuckin' face, rubbing your crotch all over my lips. I can just taste your sweat.

An assault of sounds rain down on me from all angles. The canvas is shuddering, pounding loudly as something slams into it. The ringing in my ears has returned, in full force. I can hear your gasping breaths from above me somewhere. The furious roar of the crowds sound like they're shouting in tongues. I don't know if they're screaming for me to kick out or screaming obscenities at ya. I do hear a vast portion of them chanting out numbers. Numbers.. They're counting along. Counting... fuck.

You're pinning me.

It takes me but a fraction of a second to realize my body is rolled up, rather provocatively, while ya sit down on my flustered face, pinning me to the canvas. Ya even have my leg ensnared in your grasp, pulling on it tight, curling me into this helpless ball. My arms still feel like solid lead at my sides, both my feet still tingling. I can't, move.. But I have to! I must, I can't just let this fall apart now! I have to fight, have to break free. I've worked too hard, too long to get to this point! For it all to just, to just crumble like this!? No, I just won't let that happen! I just can't, i just can't.. I just can't...
 
I just can't move.

At all. I scream desperately for my shoulder to snap up, to push against your body, to kick out, to punch ya, to throw ya off of me. Something, anything! But, I just can't. Nothing's working, nothing's willing to work. I'm frozen, stuck there on the mat, pinned beneath ya with no chance of escape. My body won't budge, instead, it makes me a million apologies because it just can't move anymore, My strength is just not there, my will is depleted. That DDT really hurt me. It stung me, knocked me down for the count. My mind is fogged with pain and whatever's still alive and aware is screaming, pleading for an arm to dart up or for a leg to kick out. But my body just won't listen. I won't be able to call myself back from the brink. Not this time. Oblivion begins to wrap its inky black tendrils around me, wrapping me up and trussing me tightly in its grasp, making sure I won't escape, that I won't even move, overwhelming me in its enthralling darkness.. and I allow it to.

My eyes shut again, and I slump into the mat beneath ya. I take in one last, trembling breath, breathing in the heat of your sex as the ref's hand drops a third time to the canvas. The sound of his palm slamming into the canvas is earsplitting, 


"THREE!"



It's all over for the Platinum Queen as she lays there, just lays there, beaten, battered, conquered, and captured..

[Rowan Chance]

I commend you both for the awesome match, that's how a message board fight is done.

Thank you!

[Rowan Chance]

As soon as the referee counts "THREE!" I'm on the canvas, trying to breathe. All that stomach work you did has kept precious oxygen from my lungs for the better part of the night, and now, without having to worry about dodging, ducking or just sucking it up, I can lay back...and really breathe.

The boos from the crowd tell me I've done my job. I've kept them from getting what they wanted. Sure, there are a few cheers from the heel marks--all wearing my merch, of course--but they're few and far between. I just lay there for a long moment and let the ref raise my hand. On my back, right next to Tiffany...who still has not moved.

As they play my music, I eventually find my way to my feet--staggering all the way. I use the ropes to get up. The real pain hasn't started yet: that'll be in about an hour when all the adrenaline has worn off. That means I have enough time for some fun.

I limp over to my corner and grab the whip I brought with me. Remember that? And I yell at the ringboy (no goddamn way I'm calling them "Young Lions") to grab the bag I stashed under the ring before the match. He does what he's told, either because he's afraid of me or he thinks doing what he's told will win him some kind of favor. I crack the whip and the crowd goes wild: heel and face marks alike. They want to see what comes next.

Little perverts.

Though, I can't say I blame them.

The whip crack should get Tiff's attention. I put my finger across my throat, telling the sound guy to cut my music. He obliges.

That's when I open the bag and take something out. I toss it at Tiff.

It's a leather collar.

"Put it on," I say, my voice dark and poisonous. I know you can hear me, Tiff. And I've given you enough time to move.

Now do as I say...or there will be consequences.

[BustyTiffany35]

*CRACK!*

I could have sworn a gunshot went off in the Viceroy. It takes me a moment to realize that wasn't a gun going off, it was a whip. Your whip.

I blink my tired eyes rapidly, opening them to the blinding lights shining up in the Viceroy's ceiling. At first, the pounding in my head feels like a jackhammer is rumbling away without supervision within my skull, but that thankfully begins to subside. The ring beneath me at first feels like its rotating on an axis, but that stops after a few moments. The rest of me feels like it's been slammed by a speeding truck, and unfortunately, that feeling doesn't seem to wanna pass anytime soon. I mentally check for any possible injuries, and manage a slight sigh of relief as it doesn't feel like I'm seriously hurt. Just plenty of aching, and throbbing, and soreness from the top of my head down to the tip of my toes. I suppose that's something to be thankful about.

I lost.

Now that I'm fully awake, it all begins to sink in. The cold, unbearable realization that I lost one of the most important matches in my career.. that I've been beaten in one of the hardest fights of my life.. starts to bleed into my mind. After an entire year's worth of beating anyone and everyone set in my path.. a whole fuckin' year.. My streak's been snapped, all that work, all that time and effort. Gone. It turns my stomach, it's suddenly really hard to breathe. Emotions of every kind begin to bubble up beneath my skin. Any physical ache or pain is quickly forgotten. Nothing seems to matter now, nothing but the shame, the devastation of losing here tonight. It's so raw, so intense, I can't help but think of anything, feel anything, but that. I lost, I failed. I truly am nothing..

Something lands on my chest.

It feels round and rigid, and a piece of it jingles as it lands atop my ample breasts. I finally move my head, wincing as my neck's still real sore and my head almost immediately continues its gruesome inner-pounding. But still, I manage to lift my head anyway, propping myself onto elbows to cast my wary eyes down onto what was tossed to me. Sitting there on my chest, is a black leather collar.

And again, all the aches and pains dissipate, fading into the background as I stare silently at this black collar. I take in a trembling breath as my mind returns to the shame that bled into soul, the shame that's suffocating me from the inside. My cheeks glow warmly and my eyes have a distant, sheepish look to them. I swallow hard, and sit up, catching the leather black collar in my hands, staring down at at it wordlessly. Breathlessly. This is familiar.  I spent a year trying to make everyone remember who the Platinum Queen was, that I myself can still go, can still fight and conquer --



And now, just look at you!

After all that work, all that time, look at you now!

Conquered.

You can't hang with any of em' anymore, you old slut!

That collar, is what you truly deserve...

Failure.

You're not good enough!

That's what you've always deserved, honey!




"Put it on." I hear ya say those words. They sound like poison, dark and commanding. Yet, there's a sensuality to it, a richness in your voice that I can't deny. Despite myself, I shudder..

I look up at ya, slowly. It's the first time I laid eyes on you since the pinfall, since you've beaten me. There's a hint of defiance in my glaring eyes, but that itself is fleeting as I look at ya. Ya stand there, so assertive and dominant, in those wicked black domme boots, brandishing that whip with sinful intent. Standing there with all the arrogance in the world over a woman you've just captured. I can't even muster up enough anger toward ya.. You, ya look so... exquisite,,

Do as she says..

I shut my eyes, trembling - no, shaking - all over. I unhook the leather collar from its metallic clasps and rise up onto my knees in front of ya. I slip it on, covering the black choker that already covers the base of my throat - a choker with a lil' skull insignia printed on the front of it - and I put on your collar, locking it tightly behind the back of my neck. Slowly, I lower my arms until they rest a lil' behind me, and continue to glare up at ya, cheeks hot red, eyes burning with shame and submission..

You're hers now, honey.

[Rowan Chance]

I step forward slowly, putting each foot in front of the other, crossing my long legs as I walk toward you. Whip in one hand, heavy bag in the other.

When I get close enough, I snap the whip so it curls around my waist, then I put the handle behind me and up, so it dangles over my shoulder. Reaching into the bag, with my eyes on you kneeling in front of me, I take a long, black climbing cord from the bag. Then, I let it fall with a heavy thunk.

I bend the cord until I find the halfway point, then tuck that through the little metal ring on the collar. I pull the cord through the ring while stepping behind you, my domme boots almost clicking on the canvas. And when I get behind you, I slowly tie the cord around each of your wrists, making a double column tie.

I make it tight, Tiff. Just tight enough so you can feel it, but not so tight it cuts off your circulation. Because I know what I'm doing.

Then, I tug your wrists up behind your back and kick you with my boot, sending you face down to the canvas. Then, I grab your ankles and wrap them up with the same knot. Wrapping the cord around both ankles, then pulling the cord up around the middle, hitching it up.

My little hog tied blonde bomber.

I pull you up by the hair so you're up on your knees again. And I look down into your face as I tug on those blonde tresses. My wicked grin. My shining eyes. I bite your lower lip hard. Then, I whisper,

"Who do you belong to, baby?"

[BustyTiffany35]

"Who do you belong to, baby?"

I'm sinking and spiralling farther and deeper in my own shame that I barely even notice Rowan approaching. The sharp stinging snap of her whip breaks me outta my own loathing thoughts, and I raise my wary eyes to watch her sleek, snake-like whip coil around her tempestuous figure. It moves with such effortless grace, and she handles it flawlessly, it's almost as if that wicked weapon were an extension of herself. It also possesses the scream of a thunderstorm, it hollers so loudly whenever she cracks it. But that earsplitting snap of her whip ain't but a faint whisper in comparison to my own breaths that feverishly escape my quivering lips. My desperate, gasping breaths is all I can hear, repeating loudly in my ears, as I stare quietly, blushingly, at what you've pulled free from your ominous bag.

Long, black climbing rope.

I shiver.

"Ngh."

Amid my heavy breathing, I hear the soft click of your domme boots as ya start to bind me with your rope. The collar fastened around my throat, a collar that I fastened myself with little reluctance, bites into my neck as ya pass your black cord through the shiny metallic ring and drag the rope down to my wrists. It's sinfully ingenious how you're tying me, making sure that if I struggle too hard, not only would I end up strangling myself, but any tug or pull of these ropes will tug and pull on my collar. Reminding me of my place. In a matter of seconds, ya bind my hands behind me, rendering me helpless, using expert knots to truss me up into a double column tie. My breathing trembles, I arch my lower back a bit and my ample breasts push up against my skimpy silver corset. Nipples hardening, tenting the shimmering material. It may have taken ya but a few moments to tie me up, but in my mind, a hot eternity's worth of time passes. Slowly slipping into a calming reverie, I retreat into the furthest depths of my depraved thoughts as your cord caresses my skin and cinches my wrists tightly together. It's getting very, very hard to breathe.

"Ngh!"

Ya tighten the ropes. Ya make it tight enough that I flinch, I gasp out, I moan. Ya make it tight to get the message across, to brand it into my soul: I'm not going anywhere. There ain't no escape for me, now. Then, I feel your domme boot at my back, kicking me, sending me so cruelly into the canvas. The kick is enough to rip me back from subspace, and I'm just now realizing what's happening as the ring floor rushes up to meet my face.

My hands are tied behind me, so nothing prevents me from slamming into the canvas, nothing softens the rigid kiss of the ring against my face and breasts. I land on the boards chest-first before my face follows through a second later, but aside from the sharp flash of pain that bites my stiffened nipples and aching breasts and flustered face - there's really lil' pain at all. Only, humiliation. I'm being ragdolled, tossed about insolently, treated like a toy, with barely a care in the world Collared and bound, I lay there there, and softly, I whimper. It's not at all the kinda sound a warrior would make, rather it belongs to a helpless prisoner. A Queen turned captive. Your captive.

Ya bind my ankles together, tightly together, and ya cinch my bound ankles to my tied wrists. Hogtying me. My head is spinning, and I realize that I haven't taken a breath in a long while. The ropes, the bondage, the humiliation - it's causing my arousal to redline. I shudder, a lil' too hard, against the canvas.

"Mmmhp.."

The next sound that erupts from my lips ain't exactly a whimper. As ya sink your fingers deep into my big, tousled, platinum blonde hair, and drag me slowly up onto my knees, the sound that explodes from my mouth is more of a lustful, depraved moan. And as ya glare down at me, with those shiny eyes, with that wicked grin, as I kneel before ya all helplessly, hotly tied up, and collared, and beaten, with my big disheveled platinum mane and heaving ample tits barely concealed in my skimpy corset, I'm drawn back - torn back I should say - into that blissful reverie. Can barely move, barely even breathe right now.

Ya bend forward, and bite my lower lip. I shake all over, uncontrollably against my stringent, inescapable bondage.

Now, I can barely even think straight.

I'm losing my mind, losing every fuckin' bit of it to my shameful, wicked arousal. Letting myself plummet freely to the deepest reaches of my depravity, embracing your dominance, submitting to--


"You," I whisper, breathlessly, against your lips.

[Rowan Chance]

I hear you whisper your answer and my grin turns poisonous.

I use my pointer finger to hook the collar around your neck, pulling your face toward mine.

"Time to make the Platinum Queen humble," I whisper into your ear.

And slowly, I begin removing each piece of your gear. Your top. Your wrist bands. Even your bottoms. Until all you're wearing is your tall wrestling boots. I let you leave those on. But otherwise, you tied up and naked in the center of the ring for all the world to see. Wearing nothing but your boots and my collar. Or, should I say, your collar.

Then, I hook the collar again with my finger as the crowd whistles and shouts out to you. "Let's go mighty queen. Time for you to serve me."

And I lift you, carrying you out from the ring, down that long aisle, toward the back.

Where all the fanboys can just imagine what a woman like me is going to do to a woman like you...

[BustyTiffany35]

That grin.. It's not so much the actual smile that shapes your smooth, kissable lips right now that sends such wicked thrills to course through my system. It's the intent behind that grin, the sinful promises that you're bound to deliver that gets me shaking in anticipation. That grin, it'll stay with me for a long, long while..

"Nnh.."

I grit my teeth as ya pull me closer to ya, your finger hooked in my collar, dragging me steamily close so that ya can purr into my ear. Gawd, that voice.. I shudder again, intensely, straining a bit in my bonds, finding it real difficult to keep hold of my breath. And then, breathlessly, helplessly, I watch as ya strip me.. piece by piece, ya remove my shiny, skimpy silver outfit, along with the other pieces of my form-fitting ring gear.. It takes a bit of work on your part, as I'm securely tied and all. Ya even start to rip and tear my clothing from my buxom, bound body and all I can do is sway on my knees and shiver in my bonds. In no time you've got me naked, save for my tall boots, my fishnet thigh-high stockings, and your collar. My collar. My face is glowing red.

The sounds in the Viceroy have heightened to a fever pitch as ya have me mostly nude for all to see. The catcalls, the whistles, the voices that were eagerly encouraging me to kick your ass earlier in our match have suddenly turned on me. They're deafening, and it all deepens the humiliation, making this moment sink deeper into my soul. My voluptuous breasts are completely bare, nipples hardened. My lean, toned abs slick with sweat, my neatly trimmed bush leading everyone's gaze down to my savory moist lips.. My big, platinum blonde is a wild tangled mess, contrasting starkly with the dark ropes that you've used to tie me up. I've lost one of the most important matches in my career, and now I kneel there in the center of the ring, bound helplessly, stripped naked, and collared, all by a ferocious, gorgeous rival.. just the way the Platinum Queen should be.. a part of me wants to just crawl into a hole and never come out.

The other part of me...well..

"Nnhh!" I groan again as ya yank by the collar, still deviously grinning. I peer sheepishly into your eyes, seeing the lust that boils in them as ya stare at me.. lust, and the power that ya have over me now.. and the promise that I will fulfill every one of your dark, devious desires tonight. I tremble in my ropes, my bare naked breasts rising and falling with every shuddering gasp.

"Oohh.." I let out the softest whimper as ya wrap your arms around me and hoist me up onto your shoulder. I hate being carried, especially like this. Especially when a slightly smaller gal is doing the carrying.. it drives me nuts, and yet, that humiliation also shamefully feeds right into my lust. Ya can feel me already shaking over your shoulder as ya prepare to leave. My disheveled platinum mane sways over your back as ya balance me over your shoulder, carrying me right outta the ring and down that long aisle. All I can do is shudder and moan over your shoulder, as ya carry me away. This is the most fitting way to deal with me now - you've dominated me throughout the match, beaten me, proved you're the better woman. You've reduced me to nothing more than a trophy, a spoil of war to be savored and ravished. The ropes seemingly tighten around my wrists and ankles, the collar feels like it's strangling me now. The humiliation is suffocating. I shut my eyes, bite my lower lip, and quiver over your shoulder..

"Mmph."

I slump over your shoulder after a hot moment, moaning warily in total, absolute submission. I tried to beat the Unbreakable Rowan Chance.. and instead, Rowan. Ya ended up capturing the Platinum Queen...


You ended up capturing me..



(Gawd, I'm sorry this took so long! I wanted to do a proper ending to this fantastic match, but life kinda got in the way. Anyway! I wanna take this moment to thank my lovely, insanely talented, and ridiculously sexy opponent, Rowan, for giving me one of my all-time favorite matches! Thank ya, sugah! You are so freakin' great!! I loved facing ya, and I'm always up to facing ya again in the future!

And I'd like to thank everyone who's been following along! Thanks for reading, I sincerely hope we entertained y'all )