DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Nothing in this story is realistic. Nothing in this story is supposed to happen to anyone real. This story is set in a dimension where the laws of physics and biology are completely different. I am NOT responsible for anyone trying to perform any acts in this story. I am NOT responsible for damages when the real laws of physics and biology punish you for what you did.
CONTENTS: If you are over 18 and not about to go trying things on real people, here's what you'll find in here: Super heroines in peril, demasking, tentacle rape, forced climaxing, and a gang bang at the end for good measure. (I've always wished authors would post that with stories.)
SPECIAL THANKS: Mr. X for creating Ms. Americana and allowing random people to use her in stories. Dark One for inspiring me to write a short story. The Playstation 2 game Rumble Roses for the idea that humiliation translates to actual damage in a wrestling match.
CONTACT: Feedback is welcome. Please be gentle, it’s my first story. Contact The Green Goblin.
Ms. Americana gracefully leapt from rooftop to rooftop watching over the safety of Mistie Flemming, the hottest megastar of the Delta Wrestling Federation. Mistie had won a beauty pageant with her stunning good looks, fiery red hair and attitude, winning smile, flawless skin, muscular and flexible legs, toned arms, overlarge breasts, and a willingness to wiggle and display them on national television. The prize was a job with the DWF, though her professional wrestling skills alone were probably enough to get her the job without the contest. She was exactly the kind of girl that had been disappearing without a trace from even the most impregnable of strongholds, and Ms. Americana was determined to put a stop to it.
It was difficult for Ms. Americana to put herself fully behind this mission. She was exceptionally disappointed in Mistie for, in Ms. Americana's opinion, wasting her gifts on legions of unworthy men. (Being men made them unworthy.) Mistie is one of the world's most beautiful athletes. As a wrestler, her job is to execute choreographed moves with fluid grace and unmatched charisma. Ms. Americana had determined this girl should be in the highest class of dancers. Instead, she lifts other girls over her head and arches her slender back in a German Suplex so a cameraman can zoom a lens right between her defenseless legs. For all her talent, she only displayed a thin piece of green spandex covering her most intimate regions. Every time Ms. Americana thought of the way Mistie's plentiful chest heaved and wiggled inside a too-small-too-tight sports bra when she bravely "escaped" a full-nelson hold, she fought her own arousal to allow anger to bubble forward.
In the end, Ms. Americana realized a greater threat to women was at work here. Furthermore, Mistie might see the light upon being rescued. It was only a matter of time before whatever was taking these women would manifest. She would make her move. Sure, the phenomenon bested the best of the best security forces, but they were men. While Ms. Americana was reasoning that her femininity would somehow give her foresight and ability beyond all humanity, a small, white fissure in space-time opened up beneath Mistie's feet and gravity pulled her right into it. Ms. Americana had to recover from the shock that being a woman was no help here.
Where being a woman failed, being quick, athletic, arrogant, and having your legs powered by a magical belt were of great use in launching herself into the fissure before it closed. Rather than the truth, she preferred to think it was her feminine intuition that made her think to investigate this fissure while men were incompetent and just didn't notice. The truth was that the fissure’s creator left it open for her.
Ms. Americana landed nimbly on her feet in a display of pride-inducing agility. She placed her fists on her hips and struck an imposing pose on any miscreants that were sure to be lurking here in enemy territory. After five seconds, she realized she was trying to intimidate an empty locker room. After another five seconds, a somewhat more imposing figure walked in to greet the newest arrival to the Dimension.
"Release Mistie and the other girls at once," said Ms. Americana without bothering to take in any details about her adversary.
"I'll do no such thing. Strike me until you're ready to listen."
Ms. Americana launched a roundhouse kick directly into the expensive suit covering his rib cage. He was a few inches taller than the Amazon, so kicking that place forced her leg to angle high enough for the hidden camera to get an excellent shot of her bikini bottoms that barely covered her pussy. Her hatred of Mistie's antics were now officially hypocritical. As if that weren't bad enough, her own 44DD's swung about wildly as she put first her right fist and then her left through her opponent's face.
The actions that were empowering to her quickly became entertainment for anyone watching. With so much of her body exposed, there was almost no movement she could make that didn't remind anyone of sex. Her opponent's body was made completely of shadow, and while solid enough to provide resistance there was no way she could damage it. If she punched, her breasts would nearly fly out of her top. If she ran in quickened her breath, forcing her chest to heave even at rest. Her hair mussed about and became tangled in the struggle. A kick would only serve to open her legs for further invasion from the camera. Grabbing him only flattened her ample chest against him, and her pulling, grunting, and panting may have aroused the audience but it did not budge her shadowy opponent. She was a sexual plaything, but for once she was unaware of it.
As she clenched his collar with her left fist and readied a punch with her right, she suddenly gasped. As the gasp dashed out of her red, sexy, parted lips it took most of her power with it. It was as if something were filling her with embarrassment by striking her G-spot. Arousal and humiliation already had a "chicken and egg" kind of relationship with her, but this was different. It was as if the lusty could stimulate her with a line of sight. She suddenly felt two, shadowy eyes abusing her breasts. She covered them with her arms, but they were inadequate against the torrent of sexuality her body so naturally gave off. The inadequacy humiliated her more, which caused her cheeks to flush a brighter red. The humiliation made her too warm between her legs, and she knew she was in trouble.
"Wh- what have you done to me?" She hoped her puffy mouth could stall for time and take her mind off of her clit.
"Ah, my newest star is ready to listen." The voice sounded nothing like something that was just beaten for five straight minutes by a woman with the strength of ten women.
"I'll..neg- ahh!" She nearly dropped to her knees as she felt his stare on the triangle covered by such an inadequate amount of cloth. She brought one arm down to cover her crotch area but it just wasn't enough. Her breathing was now ragged, but she tried to stand strong.
"I'll negotiate with you for the re...release of...the girls."
"Fine then. I, The Commissioner, shall negotiate with you." Though the routine was exactly the same, The Commissioner felt it would be quickest to let her feel like she was negotiating.
"Good. First...I demand you stop what you're doing to me." Her heavy breathing and shaking knees made it clear she had no power to back up demands.
"I'm not doing anything to you. I'm here to explain the rules of this dimension, and I'll start with what you're feeling now. Raise your arms."
"I'll do no such--” Her retort was interrupted when the shadowy figure, now known to Ms. Americana to be invulnerable to her strikes, grabbed both her arms and raised them above her head. One of his shadowy hands molded around both of her wrists leaving his other arm free to do as it wished with her.
The effect worsened her situation. Normally it didn't affect her when people stared at her body. Usually she relied on it but with the little protection her arms provided now removed, whatever was affecting her could now do so unhindered. Her nipples clearly hardened under the bikini top. Her legs kicked and kneed at him wildly until she felt a wetness between them, and promptly squeezed them shut. The material between her legs was clearly darker from moisture.
A shadowy tendril snaked down from her wrist restraints and flowed into her mouth until her jaw was as far open as it would get before causing extreme discomfort. The shadow was translucent, so the viewers could see everything. Mostly, the way her lips wrapped around the shaft and how her tongue was forced to entertain the blob in her mouth. Smaller tendrils were pushing it around. As he had his way with her mouth, he began the lesson.
"What you feel is humiliation. It is one of the two things about this dimension radically different from your own."
Ms. Americana moaned around her shadowy gag. They turned into squeals of delight and desperation. She couldn't free her arms, and she didn't dare try to move her legs again. Her ass and thighs already felt like there were a thousand gently rubbing hands stimulating the entire area, and somehow she knew any movement would make it worse.
"In this world humiliation sets in when you realize that your physique, your prowess, and all of your power are merely on display for our sexual entertainment. Whenever it is made clear to you that you are a busty plaything for our entertainment and NOT a warrior, you become humiliated."
As he drove this point home the tendril flowed down her throat, showing all that she could take ten or even twelve inches down her experienced throat.
"Humiliation requires you to be watched, but you don't have to realize it. Right now those cameras are filming everything."
The tentacle directed her head like she was a rag doll. All she could do was moan as she had to stare at one, two, three...at least four cameras. Something that sounded like "nooooo" tried to escape her mouth. This increased the warmth between her legs, and her sexy ass was now squirming under the guise of escape but it wanted attention.
"What you feel is the desire of everyone looking at you. It is transmitted by sight. You feel what they feel, and you feel it most in the parts of your body that cause it most."
That was why her nipples were standing up. That was why her ass and thighs were tingling and by now teased to the point where they craved a real touch. That was why she dare not kick--those sensations on her pussy and clit might make her cum in her bonds right there. That would cause her power belt to be ineffective--if it had any effect here to begin with.
"In this world, MY world, you will wrestle other women for entertainment. Mostly mine, but I've created an audience for this dimension as well. Some are here to add to your humiliation, some are here as a reward for their gifts to me in your world."
His free arm extended past his sleeve to reach behind her back where it formed into two hands to untie her bikini top. In her current state, she couldn't deal with having her breasts exposed. In a panic she began kicking him, exposing her vulnerable pussy, exposing the juices that ran down her thighs, exposing what she was desperately hiding from view, exposing her greatest weakness to thousands of eyes that could strike it. Once the shadowy hands began playing with her breasts, she regretted her decision. She stopped kicking, but bringing her legs together all the way felt too good now. Solid but shadowy hands were lifting and caressing her breasts. Special fingers protruded from the shadow to play with her erect nipples without disturbing the expert massage from the hands. She couldn't keep her legs open from the stares. She couldn't squeeze them shut because she feared the pressure would drive her over the edge. Her eyes rolled back into her head from the pleasure and she breathed furiously through her nose.
"You seem to have trouble concentrating. Maybe you need a little release."
"mmmmmph...mmmmph..." was all she could moan around her shadowy gag. She was in great danger now. No longer was she aroused by the magic of this new world, but her breasts were being manipulated and that sent shocks of pleasure straight to her clit.
"How about a little natural humiliation from your own world. That would at least double the effects, don't you think?"
Double?! She couldn't take single! Her thin, soaked bikini bottoms were all that stood between her and a mind-blowing, power-sapping orgasm. If she were humiliated to cum in front of the audience, would that make her cum again? A defeat here could reduce her to a mindless sex-slave within her first 30 minutes of entering a new world. The thought was...oh god...humiliating.
"I shall remove..."
Her panicked mind took an instant to plead "not my panties, not my panties..."
"...your mask."
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH!!!" Was all she could manage. Her legs moved to struggle, but she managed to hold them in place, save the quaking with desire. She couldn't move her arms. Her body was being played with. All she could do was plead with her eyes. Her moans took a slightly less pleasurable tone and began to sound like pleas. Ms. Americana, the Maid of Might, with the strength of ten women could now only save herself by begging. She was a wet plaything being used for her big tits, and all she could do was blink her heavy eyelids and mew at him through a giant cock. It was her attempt at begging, but it only made her look like a wanton slut.
Another tendril grew from the one in her mouth and slipped under her mask by her right eye. She tried to shake her head but the large one controlling her mouth and head just moved with her. She looked much sexier thrashing about unable to escape compared to just held there getting pounded. Her weak pleas grew quicker. Her now slutty eyes managed to convey begging, but it looked more like she was begging for cock. She was utterly helpless and about to be unmasked on camera. The vibrations from her increasingly rapid pleas served to stimulate the cock in her mouth. When the mask was half-off, it began to inject a white fluid into her mouth.
The translucence of the shadow let everyone see that she was now swallowing cum. Her last defenses were being stripped away, and she could do nothing but swallow cum. It began to fill her mouth to quickly for her to swallow. She could feel everyone hoping it would run out of the sides of her mouth. When it finally did, the humiliation of being used finally hit her. No matter what she wanted, she had given them what they wanted. Once she thought that would be what drove her over the edge, she felt her mask ripped right off.
Ms. Americana spasmed uncontrollably. Her arms were high above her head, so when the orgasm forced her back to arch her breasts jutted out proudly and shook as she pulsated in ultimate pleasure. It was the pleasure of defeat. Her powers were gone. Her body was so stimulated that her next orgasm would come easily. As her body shook she was dimly aware of being lowered to her knees. All the tendrils retreated from her body, leaving her panting, breathless, powerless, on her hands and knees, with cum dripping out of her mouth.
"Stand up when you're ready to hear more about the rules of this place. Stay down there if you want to get used as a fucktoy some more."
The words "...used as a fuck toy..." burned into her senses just as they were coming back to her. Clearly, this shadow creature was the one of the two of them that could make good on threats. The one good thing was that she wasn't in a continuous orgasm. It was almost as if cumming protected her from the humiliation effects. She wondered how long that would last as she toplessly got to her feet.
Once she stood up, The Commissioner slapped her across the face. As she brought a hand up to her face in shock, she felt a knee drive into her abdomen and double her over. He quickly grabbed a handful of her raven black mane and used it to drive her head into the lockers. Dazed, Ms. Americana slumped to her knees. Though her senses were dimmed, she felt the next occurrence was odd. He grabbed her head with both hands and she just stood up. He wanted her up and she cooperated, in spite of the damage. He then put a hand between her legs and another on her shoulder. She was hoisted up and body slammed on the cold floor of the locker room. Again, once his hands found her head she just stood up. She was scooped up the same way, but then flipped over and pile driven into the floor. A question floated down to her as she lay there.
"Why isn't your neck broken?"
"uuhhnnn...."
The Commissioner touched her head with both hands and again, instead of a broken neck she was allowing her body to be positioned as he desired. In this case, standing straight.
"Damage works differently in this universe also. Your body, except for a little blood for entertainment purposes, is completely invulnerable."
He landed a jumping spin kick that sent Ms. America spinning through the air on her way down, her head hitting the bench on the way to the floor.
"You still feel pain as normal."
He stood her up again, this time enjoying the view of her large, 44DD breasts and the arms that could no longer find strength to cover them. To make matters worse, she began to feel lusty eyes all over her body again.
"Rather than break your body, damage in this world breaks your will. The harder you get beat on, the less able you are to prevent others from doing as they please with your body."
As he said this, he interlocked his arms with hers in a manner so complicated it was clear no willful opponent would ever cooperate with being set up. He then lifted her so she flipped upside down and he held her there in an innovative double-arm vertical suplex. She could feel her arousal growing on top of what was left from the last orgasm. As if that weren't bad enough, her breasts were now sinking into her face. He spun around in his spot to give all the cameras a view of her ass, thighs, breasts, and the helplessness of her position. Finally, he dropped her powerfully to the floor. Her whole body bounced, and her breasts continued to bounce for some time after until she finally lay there unable to move.
"That was a Finishing Move. I've beaten you so badly that you can't stop me from positioning your body as I wish. In a match you'd be quite easy to pin. But this isn't a match, and there are other things I want to do to your body."
Brenda Wade was in trouble. She had already been taken once and he didn't even have to touch the area covered by her soaked bikini bottoms. Her will to prevent others from positioning her body was smashed. She could once again feel eyes all over her body. Views were tracing their way up and down her thighs to the source of the moisture. Thousands of stares played with her breasts as they heaved up and down under her heavy breathing. Even her arms felt stimulated. It was as if someone wanted to place gentle kisses up and down every inch of her slender arms until he discovered an erogenous zone she didn't know was there. There was a similar feeling along her neck; someone in the audience desired this part of her above all else. She also felt a tingling in the area once covered by her mask. This was a weakness unique to her in this dimension--she was humiliated to have her secret identity stared at. As if that weren't bad enough by itself, even her eyes were now a plaything. They certainly had fans after the show they gave while she was sucking the shadow tentacle. As her desperate pants for air again turned into moans, The Commissioner abandoned his unnecessary suit and stood over her in all his shadowy glory.
"You work for me now. Welcome to the company."
"You'll never get away with this! I will recover and find a way to --"
She was interrupted as he stepped between her legs and pushed her bikini bottoms aside. Her pussy was open and waiting. Indeed, even that was in the position he willed it to be in. She weakly pushed against his chest, but he powerfully pushed against hers. She had already succumbed to his manipulation of her breasts, only this time she was weaker. A tiny, shadow vine snaked out of his pelvis and stimulated her erect clit. Again, Brenda wanted to believe is wasn't her fault, that he was willing her to be this way--squirming and panting on her back with her legs open, unable to push her aggressor away.
"What shall I put in your opening, Brenda?"
She was alarmed that he knew her true name. It struck a chord, making her feel weaker...wetter. Though he'd surely figure it out, she didn't want to let on that being tamed was such a turn on for her.
His chest area formed a shadowy 9" dildo with studs all over.
"Would you like this inside you?"
"No...please...don't put that inside me," she pleaded through her moans. As her head rolled back and forth from the pleasure, she caught a glimpse of the camera and realized she was being watched by many. That brought her attention to her humiliation, which only excited her more.
"How about this?"
The shape was now a 10" dildo with larger studs, and some sections of it seemed to be rotating.
"Not that...its too big...never fit..." She bit her lower lip to try to prevent herself from orgasming before he even stuffed her pussy. The humiliation of saying these words was boring into her. She had to do something. Finding strength, she reached out and tried to punch the shadowy face before her.
Her punch connected, but it was met with a slap across the face followed by a backhand. He did it again. Her head was knocked back and forth, tossing her black hair all over the place. Finally, her arms drooped to her sides, and he placed them over her head to expose her chest just a little more. She had recovered enough will to move her arms, and he slapped it right out of her.
"So, you want to be a little bitch do you? Does the slut like to get bitchslapped until she's nothing but a defenseless fucktoy?"
He made sure to use words like "bitch" and "slut" to humiliate her further. It was clearly working. She twitched a little as he said each derogatory term.
"Maybe the bitch needs a bitch tamer. Does the slut know what the bitch tamer does? It reduces you to a tame little bitch."
He showed her a 12" shadowcock complete with a clit stimulator, rotating heads, and lots of tiny studs that just promised to mimic a lumpy tongue going over every inch of the inside of her dripping cunt.
Brenda was turned on beyond intelligible speech, but she managed a weak "Noooooo..."
"If you want the bitch tamer, cum first. Bitch."
He slapped her prone body as a final humiliation. First she would come without even being entered, again, and then he would take her. She was already turned on to the point of insanity for the second time today, proving again that he didn't NEED the bitch tamer to have his way with her. She was his plaything anyway. The bitch tamer was just for fun because she was his bitch. As that last slap drove this point home for her, she began to wiggle and quiver her way through an orgasm that would tame her on any world.
Once her hips stopped gyrating, The Commissioner stuck the bitch tamer into her slowly. Even in the real world, orgasms broke her will. Combined with this world's new laws, she was far too weak to resist him. Her eyes went wide, and the shock of being stretched by something so huge helped her find words again, but her pleas turned into screams as he pushed inch after inch of bitch tamer into her control center. When it was finally in place, it began to wiggle and pulsate. Her screams turned into moans. After all the teasing and manipulating of funny rules, she was finally on her back getting a good old fashioned fuck. She could only moan as the expert hand used her breasts for what they were for.
All the stimulation with no actual touching had left her craving to be filled like never before. Once the pain of being stretched was drowned by the pleasure, she began to unabashedly ascend towards her third orgasm. With two tendrils now playing at her clit, she lasted all of 20 seconds before her toes curled up and her back arched with nearly enough force to throw off The Commissioner. All it did was push the bitch tamer six inches out, and it was promptly rammed six inches back in. She could no more stop it from going up there than she could a camera shot.
After her fifth forced climax, The Commissioner decided he wanted to see something again. He formed another tentacle to stuff in her mouth as he did before. Since she was laying down, he slid it up between her breasts. He wanted her to see a cock thrusting up at her face through her tits over and over again. He wanted her to associate this with great pleasure. He wanted her to come while looking at it. He got what he wanted. At this point, Brenda hardly knew where one orgasm began and one ended.
The cock between her breasts extended and went down her throat again. Brenda's thoughts only had a few seconds after an orgasm before they all transformed to thoughts of the next, powerful one building between her thighs. After her sixth one, the thought was "the cock between my tits is going in my mouth. No choice...I have to suck it again."
After her eighth orgasm, Brenda's thoughts were removed from the pleasure long enough to realize her mask had been replaced, and that she was stood up. The bitch tamer was still in place and doing its job, but her bikini bottoms were finally torn off. He stopped thrusting the bitch tamer, and after another orgasm coherence returned to Ms. Americana. She knew she was dizzy. Shadowy arms held hers out to the sides, and another tendril still pumped between her breasts. There were two or three loads of jizm on her breasts already
"You will be taken many times in this dimension, but I get all your holes first. This ends when you beg me to take your ass."
"I...can't..." she breathed heavily.
"You can't survive this much longer. It's simple. You're either my brainless little fucktoy for the next few hours, or I drive you so mad with pleasure your mind never recovers, and you're EVERYONE'S brainless little fucktoy forever. What do you say to that?"
He was right. She knew she was standing there supported only by the huge, studded, now stationary cock between her legs. He wiggled it slightly to remind her he meant business. The tentacle between her breasts was effectively playing with them, and it was already lubricated from the loads of cum deposited on her before. More tentacles moved to fill up her hands, and she was in such a sex trance already she knew instinctively to jerk them off. Maybe if they shot their loads on her body it would give her abused cunt and mouth a break. She hung her head in shame, her pouty lips right next to the cock between her breasts and knew exactly what to say to that.
"Please...fuck my ass..." She muttered quietly.
"What was that?"
Dammit. He wanted her to spell out how badly defeated she really was.
"Please...be the first to take my asshole. You can have any of my holes and others after you will have them. Stick one of your huge cocks in my ass!"
If she said any other humiliating things after that, she would have no memory of it. Her last memory was the intense pleasure of two cocks rubbing inside her, separated only by a relatively thin membrane. The tentacle pistoning in her ass pushed the sensitive flesh further against the bitch tamer, making her glad she begged for it. She did lots of begging and pleading, this time for cock. Only the cameras remembered it.
She had no memory of saying "I'm such a slut" as she let the cocks in her mouth and two hands spurt all over her face while being double penetrated.
She had no memory of saying "Please fuck Ms. Ameri-whore." as the bitch tamer shot another load inside her pussy and retracted to make room for another tentacle. The Commissioner made sure she saw at least two tentacles waiting by each hole.
She had no memory of saying "Show the world what a slut I am" as the tentacles pulled her onto her back and spread her legs straight up in a V to get a close up of two new tentacles taking her cunt and ass.
She had no memory of being turned over to several contest winners from the audience. By the time they got her she was a sex machine. No one knew she'd have reached this state in her own world as well. Her will was drowned in The Commissioner’s cum and now she was just given to any random guy...a door prize, a plaything. While her thought processes would return later, right now she could only think "I'm cumming...I'm cumming...I'm cumming" as groups of men tried to copy the tentacle positions.
Ms. Americana was straddling a man while a replacement cock went into her asshole. She came immediately after the double penetration was complete again. Her arms were so tired from jerking cocks, the men at her sides had to move her arms for her. What was once done by sight and humiliation was now done by hands all over her body. Her head would droop down from time to time, but there was always a cock there. Some of the men with longer dicks would use her tits also. They all seemed to get more turned on as she got covered in more and more cum. She seemed to get turned on as she got covered in more and more cum. Finally, she could take no more and lay there exhausted on the floor. The men that still hadn't had their fill jerked off over her heavily breathing body. As the spooge hit her sensitive skin, she orgasmed one last time and fell unconscious.
The cameras cut back to the announcer's table.
"Well there you have it, the amazing debut of Ms. Americana," exclaimed the one on the right.
"Yeah, a porn debut. I thought she was here to fight, K.T.," exclaimed the one on the left.
"Her fighting record was already proven in another dimension but boy let me tell you, that girl has STAMINA. Amazing young individual, and we can't wait to see her in real action."
"HOOOOO Yeah, K.T., if you thought that action was hot wait until next week for the match signed by our genius Commissioner."
"That's right, Bing. You heard it here first folks. NEXT WEEK: An 8-woman elimination tournament begins for the right to challenge the Champion. The first match in the tournament: It will be Ms. Americana vs. Mistie Flemming."
"OH MY GOD! I can't wait! To think that THE Mistie Flemming is going to wrestle HERE, NEXT WEEK!"
"That's all the time we have for tonight folks. I'm Ken Toss, this is Billy "Bing Bang" Boomer, singing off for the Sexy Wrestling Federation. Good night folks."
©Sexy Wrestling Entertainment, 2005
The Commissioner does vacation on Earth Realm. He makes powerful friends there and brings them to his Dimension for his “shows”. However, most of the audience members are his creations—he needs sets of eyes to power the humiliation factor.
It wasn’t relevant to this story, but there is another rule that governs this universe: If there is a stipulation in the match, the winner and loser MUST abide. That is, if Ms. Americana loses a Gangbang Match then the universe will not allow her body to move in a way that resists the gangbang.
If it is important, time flows infinitely slowly in the Sexy Wrestling Dimension (I wish I had a better name for it). The Commissioner can return anyone to her home dimension at any point in time after she left.