First Day Blues (complete)

[hamish1024]

In truth, Storm did have a pretty good idea of what Wendy was doing. The white-haired woman was a psychopathic sadist, out for the rush of ruining another’s day. She’d avoided calling Wendy a psycho to her face, in an effort at diplomacy, even though deep down she knew it was futile. No reasoning with a wolf when it had food in its mouth.

Storm had met plenty of those types – in an industry built on the pain of its competitors, it was pretty much a given that a few of these bullies would be stalking the corridors. Hell, her tag partner was doubtless cut from similar cloth. Storm herself was finding she wasn’t immune to the joys of casual cruelty, either. But crucially, it wasn’t much fun if she was the victim. The Scot was fuming that she had fallen for this, that she hadn’t seen the monster lurking beneath Wendy’s exceptionally beautiful exterior.

Her attacker taunted her in that southern lilt, and roughly dragged poor Storm across this ring.

“Try? Try to come at you? I’ll fucking succeed. I’ll make you suffer. I’ll – agh!!” The Scot’s anger began to bubble up, but was cut short by a ruthless punch to the face.

The numbing pain of that quick hit was an unneeded warning to Storm that she was indeed in a bad way. Wendy was effortlessly imposing her will, and was doing that by – dumping her in the corner? Shit.

Nothing good happened to dazed girls sitting on their ass in the turnbuckle.

“Oh, no,” Storm murmured weakly. Her expression darkened as Wendy contemptuously turned her back, leaving her big round ass looming ominously near Storm’s face. The Scot gulped, and instinctively leaned back into the turnbuckle, as if retreating a few inches would somehow help her. Whilst stinkfaces were often thrown around in Storm’s matches, she was usually the one dishing them out. Being on the receiving end, especially from someone as well built as Wendy, was not something to look forward to.

“No, no, fuck, no….” Storm squirmed miserably now as she watched her predicament get worse – Wendy making a wicked show of dropping her shorts, leaving her ass clad in nothing more than a floss-thin thong. The effect was to make Wendy’s backside look even bigger – those pale, lush cheeks looming large in Storm’s vision. Her hair was grabbed to make her fully compliant. This was going to fucking suck.

The brunette gave an unhappy whimper as Wendy started countdown – escalating into a muffled cry of scandalised dismay, as the bitch pulled the trigger early, and absolutely walloped her ass straight back into Storm’s protesting face!

It was rough. Taking an ass to the face was never exactly pleasant, but Wendy had started this stinkface with unparalleled vigour. Storm spend the first few seconds shocked and hurting, as her delicate head was squashed mercilessly hard against the corner post. Pain danced round her rattled skull, but that was really the least of her problems. Her nose and mouth had been plunged deep into Wendy’s ass crack, that blue thong offering almost no protection against the Southerner’s butt, so Storm’s face was all but welded to it.

The stinkface victim squirmed and moaned in what was effectively a full body cringe, the indignity of taking Wendy’s ass like this threatening to overwhelm her struggling emotions. Storm didn’t have the strength to fight back, and suffered the full force of the nasty, grinding smother. Gruelling seconds passed by, with Wendy gradually ramping up the intensity of this malicious move.

Her head hurt. Her face hurt. Her self-respect hurt, as Storm suffered this prolonged, all-too-personal introduction to Wendy’s ass. Her lungs started to hurt a little too – an unpleasant reminder that this ferocious stinkface was really dragging, and the pressure Wendy was applying meant that Storm only got brief snatches of fetid air.

She wasn’t at risk of passing out just yet, but her muffled cries would get more insistent as she squirmed, stuck miserably in this torrid predicament, as Wendy loudly, laughingly had her fun at Storm’s expense.

[BlackAkuma]

It might have seemed like she was doing some simple thing, but like with any skill, the greats could make it look easy. There was an art to facesitting, and Wendy had mastered it, through years of rigorous practice.

Amateurs thought it was easy - just move in, place your cheeks on someone’s face, and go to town. But there was a right way and wrong way to do, just like with anything. If you didn’t lean in with your weight, if you didn’t lock it in, they could just turn their head and get free. The smarter ones might even get their nose out, just enough to sneak in a few quick breaths and leave you thinking they had you. She’d seen skinny bitches trying it on Clips4Sale, just bouncing on some simps face while they made fake moans. No artistry. No appreciation for the craft.

Wendy, by comparison, had a technique. She made sure to pull her cheeks apart as she came in, making sure that Storm’s face got in deep, real deep, enough that she could barely peek over the curves and feeling the tailbone against her skull. She’d feel it every time her glutes clenched, and she’d have no choice but to follow along as her hips swayed from side to side. This freed the Backstage Bully up to grip the ropes and hold on for balance, letting her enjoy her throne to the fullest.

”God, you’ve got the best face for this…” She told no lies as she closed her eyes and let the moment take her. It was a perfect fit, an unbreakable seal like they were meant to go together. She wiggled her hips from side to side and drank up every moan that she made, loving the way her voice echoed through her body, getting a chill from the cries and groans and whimpers, loving that Storm was in utter hell and couldn't do a damn thing about it.

But she had to be careful. As fun as this was, she knew that it was more than possible to knock someone out with a stinkface, having won a couple of matches that way. That might be the way Wendy took her out in the end, but not right now - no, for the moment, she needed her awake, conscious, struggling.

She held out for a moment, letting Storm struggled, and waited for the weakness to set in, the first steps out getting knocked out. Just when it looked like she might be going down that road, Wendy pulled and shook her hips to pop her victim’s face free, letting her take in the fresh air she craved. ”You hanging in back there?” She gave Wendy a quick smack on the face with her butt cheek. ”Deep breath, deep breath, and-”

Right back into it. She rammed her ass back into Storm’s face, this time engulfing her enough to cover the eyes and leave her in hot, sweaty darkness.

[hamish1024]

It was, on balance, the worst stinkface that Storm had ever taken. Wendy had a big, wide ass, that she’d obviously worked on. Worked on her technique, too, wiggling her hips so that poor Storm was firmly wedged up there. Worse, Wendy had worked up quite the sweat from that frenzied suplex session, so the hapless brunette was paying for that twice – first with the original pain, and now from the additional ass sweat being slowly, thoroughly, deliberately ground into her helpless face. Never mind the numerous bruises, Storm feared she would be tasting this beating for several days.

Storm moaned in frustration as Wendy’s powder-blue g-string danced insultingly in front of her glazed eyes. She was in a dismal place and couldn’t do a damn thing about it. She weakly pushed and slapped at Wendy’s thighs, but it was like attacking a brick wall, the white-haired woman had firmly locked her in the butt-smother and had no intention of budging. The squirming Storm kicked her legs in anger. A stinkface was one of the biggest fuck-yous in wrestling, the ultimate in disrespect. In the arena they were usually quick humiliations, a cheap and easy source of heat. As a private torture, though… it was galling, it was gruelling, it was going on forever, and it felt like it was going to drive Storm mad, as minutes passed by under Wendy’s punishing butt cheeks. The Scot’s warrior soul was appalled at being reduced to taking an enemy’s ass like this. On top of the pain, the jetlag, the stretches, the indignities she had already suffered – this was excruciating, and Storm was sinking into a morass of muffled moans and angry squirms, which were doing nothing but making her predicament worse.

“GAHHHH!!” Storm gave a half-crazed gasp as Wendy pulled her butt away, freeing the brunette’s flustered face, giving her a reprieve from the approaching darkness. Hanging limply in the corner, she took a couple of seconds to suck air into her tingling lungs. Storm tried to take stock, though her nose wrinkled as Wendy teasingly bumped her with her bare ass cheek.

“I’m… gonna…. Killl…. Y-MPPPPHHH!!!!!!” Storm tried to make her anger known as she panted desperately, but was cut short, shoved right back into Wendy’s scantily-clad ass. The poor Scot HOWLED in smothered frustration as her face was enveloped and she was plunged right back into the deep butt crack of her enemy. Yet more misery as the sordid Stinkface cycle started all over again. Only this time, harder, harsher. Ass up to her ears, now, as her eyes were pressed shut, her entire face engulfed by hot, gyrating, grinding buttocks. Her fists gripped the rope and her ankles kicked the canvas helplessly, as her strung-out suffering in this sweaty, sadistic stinkface continued on and on and on.

[BlackAkuma]

As she continued to thrust into Storm’s face, Wendy decided to play a little game with herself. Whenever she let someone out of her ass for a quick breath, they inevitably wasted their time saying something, instead of just sucking in air like they really should’ve. She had no way of knowing which one the Scotswoman would choose, and it was a difficult pick. She seemed like more of the type to threaten, but she had done a little pleading earlier, so there was always the chance she might come back to that. It seemed like she’d gotten this woman good and pissed, though, so she was betting on the former…

Lift away, time for the big reveal, and…

Yup, a threat. A classic one, too. ”’I’m gonna kill you!’” Wendy mimicked Storm’s voice down to the Scottish brogue. Not the easiest thing to pull off with her Southern drawl, but she thought it wasn’t half bad. ”Sure, sure, honey.”

Wendy settled in, planted her feet, and got comfortable as she continued the smother, ensuring all her weight was pressing down on Storm’s face. She was going for the long haul, this time - no swinging her hips, no grinding, no dancing, just a relentless press to make her sink as far into the cheeks as possible. She wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon, either. No, she would take Storm to the edge of La La Land this time. ”Try and get a little more creative when you get out next time, all right?”

Wendy clenched her cheeks and waited as the seconds turned into a minute, looking for all the signs of someone slipping into unconsciousness. The falling limbs, the rattling body, the fading moans. She timed it right, waited until the last moment, then abruptly stepped out of the corner. Storm was wedged in so tight that her head followed along for a second, but it popped free and released her after a second, hurling her back into the waking world.

Wendy whistled and skipped away, lazily strolling across the ring, not a care in the world. She turned back to Storm after a few seconds and leaned forward, beaming with the same smile that had lured her victim in when they first met. ”Got anything better to say this time, honeybun?”

[hamish1024]

Not only was this the worst stinkface that Storm had ever suffered, it was without doubt the longest. Storm had no idea how long she had languished in this sweaty, stifling prison. She knew that it took a couple of minutes to start fully suffocating someone, and she had hit that point a few times now, but she kept managing to grab the odd sliver of greasy air, as Wendy wickedly allowed a little give in her gyrations, to keep Storm concious for the ordeal. Ten minutes? Twenty? Storm’s head was a messy swirl of asphyxiation, agony, and anger, so accurate timekeeping was pretty low down her list of priorities. To the suffering Scot, it felt like hours, and she had no idea how many rounds of stinkface-insult-stinkface Wendy was prepared to work through.

The seated stooge shook and quivered as she tried to endure this industrial quantity of butt to the face, but the gnawing fear in her stomach was growing, and she knew it would get the better of her eventually. There wasn’t an exact breaking point for the poor brunette, just a slow, grinding, sweaty decline in her sanity and pride. The fact that Wendy’s third phase of stinkfacing went hard, and focused on pure, punishing denial of air, probably sped up the process. Storm simply could not take any more of this. What remained of her defiance was slowly snuffed out by her enemy’s ass crack. As she moaned and squirmed her way to another near-blackout, she knew she would say anything Wendy wanted to avoid another cycle of this.

After being buried in ass for an age, the break and the air was almost a shock. Back from the brink. The reeling Scot sucked in air, grimacing at her dishevelled state, feeling her face smeared in hot sweat. She fucking despised Wendy for this, but she wasn’t going to say it. Defiance would ruin her. She would have to beg. Storm did her best to choke down the residual hot bile of anger she felt, and went submissive as possible. It fucking stung but it was all she could manage now.

“Please. No… no more. I’m begging. I can’t do that again. Anything but that,” she whimpered as she lolled in the corner, too ashamed to look her attacker in the eye.

[BlackAkuma]

As much as she hated to admit, Wendy wasn’t unfamiliar with what Storm was going through at the moment. While it wasn’t often that the tables got turned on her, that was the cost of doing business the way she did, and she had to pay it every now and then. Most recently, she’d gotten knocked out by Nha - or was it Sha? - when the twin Egyptians got the better of her and knocked her out in the gym. She could still remember what it was to have your lights turned out, to lose track of time, to fade into this black abyss, not knowing if you’d ever come out of it…

Scary stuff. She could see it on Storm’s face as she turned around, seeing the panic in her eyes, the terror, the desperate look for mercy. She was utterly fucked, with no way out of her predicament. That could do a lot to work on a woman’s pride, no doubting it. Sure enough, here came the begging, the pleading, the faint hope that this might end with some shred of dignity intact.

She’d get it. ”Relax, relax, baby girl.” She gave her cheeks a good smack as she continued to strut around the ring, giving Storm a moment to compose herself. ”No more stinkfaces for you.”

She couldn't read Storm’s mind, but she hoped she had a moment of relief off that. A little bright spot. Just a tiny spark, knowing there was a chance this torture might be over. If that flicker was there, it would be snuffed out the moment Wendy burst into action and ran across the ring, suddenly making her way to the opposite corner and turning around to face her victim - no, she wasn’t done yet. Not even close.

Wendy took a moment to take aim, looking for maximum effect, then she came dashing across the ring at full tilt, her white hair whipping about as she charged. She waited until the last second, then leaped up, grabbed the ropes, let her legs slip through the middle and bottom ropes, and rammed her crotch into Storm’s face with a bronco buster, shoving her most intimate place into the woman’s unwilling mouth. It wouldn’t stop there, either, as she grabbed the ropes and continued to thrust forward, smacking her over and over, working her, grinding, savoring every single second.

The best part? This position let her see the look on Storm’s face, enjoy every reaction. So satisfying.

[hamish1024]

Storm lay slumped in the corner, coughing and panting, squirming in embarrassment at having been forced to beg. As brutal as being ass-smothered was, the aftermath could be tough too. Your brain stopped panicking about sucking up enough air to survive, and started laying down memories about the ordeal you had just been through. Yes, you did just spend several minutes with your face embedded in that bitch’s ass. Yes, your nose was still sore from the grinding, squashing and clamping it was given by those twerking butt cheeks. Yes, the humid ass sweat coating your mouth, nostrils, face and hair was going to be clinging to you for a while, marking your total failure. It happened, and there was no way to undo it.

“Ughhh…..” Storm moaned with renewed disgust, wallowing in self-pity, head lolling to the side. She tried to spit, but her mouth was bitterly dry.

Wendy had given her a decent break this time though, which was something. Storm slowly turned her head to look back at her attacker, as she paced around the ring. Storm’s ears pricked up as she was promised ‘no more stinkfaces’.

That was… good? Right? Storm’s glassy eyes fixed quizzically on the Southerner. As a Scot, and a particularly stoic one at that, Storm was prone to assuming the worst. So her begging had apparently earned a reprieve from a further stinkfacing, but the catch was…. oh. Yeah, there’s a catch.

Storm started to twig when she saw the grin on the sadist’s face, Wendy shaping for a charge. Fuck, more pain incoming. Even if you rule out stinkfaces, that leaves a whole wide world of hurt and humiliation.

“Aw, bitch, no, NO!” the brunette pleaded to no avail as she tried to brace herself against the inevitable. She yelped in fear as Wendy dived into her, crotch-first, and then gave a hard moan of pain as the bronco buster landed on her face. The first slam into her bruised features was brutal, rattling her battered head all over again. But the bronco buster particularly sucked because the bitch could keep the bouncing going, using the ropes to smack Storm silly, over and over again. Ow, ow, FUCKING OW.

Pain. Anger. Storm’s brown eyes looked up from beneath Wendy’s crotch in a scandalised scowl, framed between those powerful creamy thighs. She couldn’t help but wince, though, as the initial buster broke down into a more languorous crotch grind. The Scot gave muffled moans as she suffered the energetic smother, her nose and mouth wedged back in Wendy’s nethers again. From drowning in booty, to being force-fed crotch. It wasn’t much of an improvement. There was quite the collection of scents in her nostrils now. Storm was seething, but beyond her growls of protest she was too weak to do anything. This white-haired demon was running rampant and she had to sit there and take it, the latest in this long line of humiliations. When would it fucking end!?

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy gripped the ropes tight, threw her head back, and enjoyed a full laugh as she threw her hips forward into Storm’s face, again and again, loving every single thrust. It wasn’t just the feeling of domination this time - though, oh, was there so much of that - but watching and hearing Storm’s reactions was genuinely funny. She was probably one of the best victims Wendy had ever had in that regard, from the pleading to the threats to her wailing right before she realized how screwed she was. It made the entire experience so much more enjoyable.

She could’ve done this all day and not got bored. Hell, she was tempted to give it a shot. Not like anyone was going to stop her.

”Yeah, bitch, yeah!” She enjoyed a full laugh as she doled out the punishment, her guffaws echoing around the room. Her thong was perfect for this, too, just thin and small enough to make every grind that much more pleasurable. Wendy had a lot of flesh, and Storm was sure to get a good taste of her with every pump. This was worse than the stinkface in so many ways, too - at least that had just been smothering more than anything. Here, Wendy kept smacking her in the face, keeping her lucid, giving her pain with absolutely nothing to give back.

After a few seconds of gleeful bouncing, Wendy planted her feet, gripped the ropes tight, and settled down for a slower grind, pressing her crotch against Storm’s face and applying a seal. She moaned as she gyrated, more than she needed to - while she was getting something out of this, she wanted to make Storm think it was more than it was, that she was using her like her own little pleasure toy.

”You got the perfect face for this, anybody ever tell you that?” Wendy looked down at Storm, winked, then got back to business. She threw back her head and smacked her lips, getting lost in the moment. ”You want to slip that tongue out and get to work, might go a little easy on you. Never know, never know.”

She wouldn’t. But she couldn't resist dangling the carrot, just in case.

[hamish1024]

Storm gave shrill, muffled squawks of indignation as Wendy’s pussy pounded her face, floundering in the corner as she took a hard dry-humping. The initial painful bounces eventually slowed, and the move transitioned into a mean, torrid smother. Once again, Storm felt the all-too-familiar panicked tingle in her lungs, as she struggled for snatches of sweaty air. Squirming, as ever, only made it worse.

The seated Scot was staring daggers up at her dominant attacker, but was gradually getting worn down by this new round of smothering. Wendy’s thinly-clad crotch was pressing heavily into her face, grinding her down into the corner, leaving her slumped, defeated, glassy-eyed. Her arms hung helplessly over the ropes as Wendy gyrated on her abused nose, clearly getting off on this.

Her attacker’s loud arousal at forcing her to take a face full of crotch was demeaning and degrading, but hardly surprising. Wendy had been mixing sex and violence throughout this sorry encounter, like an especially sadistic succubus, making no secret of the fact she wanted Storm’s body. The sad thing was, the brunette would would have loved the intimacy, if it hadn’t been coupled with an intense, infuriating beating.

And now she wanted tongue. Of course she did. To take this lustful smothering grind to the next level. Storm had suspected this direction, and whilst it added to her humiliation, she was prepared for it, and hopefully, surely, it would lessen her attacker’s cruel frenzy if she offered this heightened affection.

With another muffled moan, she softly nodded her head, and tentatively pushed her tongue out, towards the hem of Wendy’s thong. It didn’t take much to edge the thin, sweaty garment aside, giving Storm the chance to taste the Southerner’s pussy for the first time. Just a light caress of the lips, at first. It brought a quiver of self-loathing for the brunette as she displayed this ultimate submission.

Buried between Wendy’s thighs, Storm began to busy herself, gently edging her tongue into her enemy’s sex, bit by tentative bit. The white haired woman’s wanton grinding was doing a lot of the work, but Storm soon had quite a mouthful, giving careful, controlled licks as best she could, as she languished in the stifling hold. Suppressing her sense of self-worth, she endured Wendy’s leering moans and began to extend her tongue further, to-

BZZT. BZZT. BZZT.

Storm’s eyes widened and she froze awkwardly, mid lick. Her fucking phone! She’d dumped it by the doorway along with that useless little map, and now it was buzzing and ringing with incongruous enthusiasm. What fucking timing. Only one person could really be calling her- her partner Lyssa. Storm gulped as she worried how Wendy would react to the interruption.

[BlackAkuma]

Oh.

Oh, wow, Storm was actually doing it.

A shocked gasp escaped Wendy’s lips when she first felt the tongue slip out. At first she thought it was an accident - sometimes, when you smothered a person out, their body took on a mind of its own, and the tongue could be part of it. But no, no, this was definitely deliberate. The Scotswoman was working her over, pressing deep, going wild, no doubt hoping for some small amount of mercy, a good sign that she was thoroughly broken. Would be a shame if Wendy didn’t accept.

”Fuck, fuck yes…” Wendy’s whispers slipped out through her moans, as she slowed the pace down to a crawl and tried to enjoy every second of the intimate touches. She made sure to punctuate her thrusts and slide down far enough to give Storm some air, but it wasn’t an act of mercy - no, she wanted the woman wide awake for this, wanted her to be clear and conscious the moment she reached her peak.

Wendy reached over, gripped Storm’s luscious brown hair, and pulled her in tight to maximize the touch. She wasn’t quite there, not just yet, but she was rapidly making her way to the promised land, swept up in the moment. Right there, right there, and…

…the fuck was that noise?

Wendy tried not to pay attention to it at first, caught up in her mounting orgasm, but then it persisted and demanded her attention. The unmistakable sound of a phone ringing - wasn’t hers, she never put it on silent. She grunted and looked over her shoulder as she continued to rock her hips, seeing that the source was across the room. Must’ve been Storm’s phone, then. Didn’t even notice she’d dropped the thing. Wendy shrugged, and turned back, and went back to her business.

And then an idea popped in her head. An amazing idea. As much as she wanted an orgasm, she could get that later…but there was a golden opportunity ringing over there, one she might not get if she let it slip. The devil’s smile slid across her lips as she looked back to Storm, then she abruptly threw herself off the woman’s face and made a mad scramble across the ring.

Wendy rolled under the ropes, skipped over to the phone, and daintily picked it up off the phone. She took a moment to look at the screen and see the name, then hit the red button. Oh, and she hit Face Time, too. Definitely needed a visual component.

Whoever Lyssa was, the first thing she’d see on her screen was Wendy’s beaming face. ”Hey, there.”