The Prima Donna's Diary - Chapter 9: A Pair of Prima Donnas (vs Ophelia Van Der Meer (D))

[Misfit_Alien]

Ami could barely move her body, let alone fight back against someone like Ophelia. It wasn't fair...this wasn't fair. She did everything she could, and yet in the face of a woman like the 'Superior Star', Ami was simply inferior. As hard as she tried, she couldn't even tighten her fist, let alone fight Ophelia. She was dragged to her feet as her mind continued to spiral, a world of pain awaiting her as she was slumped in the corner, her body sinking against the turnbuckle as she nearly dropped back down to the mat in defeat. Unfortunately for the Prima Donna Darling, her tragic fate was far from over, as the pompous and now pissed-off Ophelia sprinted across the ring from the other corner, making a beeline STRAIGHT for Ami as she lifted her leg and SMASHED it into the petite brunette's jaw, sending a spray of saliva sailing through the air as Ami had the taste knocked out of her mouth, nearly falling unconscious from the impact alone.

She'd fall over the ropes, her body unable to keep herself upright without assistance, but as she felt the sensation of Ophelia's hulking frame behind her, she knew that this wasn't over just yet, as the Superior Star lifted her onto the top of the turnbuckle, preparing to finish her off with what could only be described as a public execution, disguised as a 'privilege', as stated by Ophelia.

The Helluva Kick...and everything before...placed Ami in her pint-sized coffin, but it was the Supreme Spike that certainly finished the job by hammering in the final nail. The moment Ami's head collided with the turnbuckle, it was lights out for the young rookie, her body going limp as her eyes rolled back up into her head. She fell to the canvas in the least graceful fashion possible, collapsing into a heap with nothing but shallow breaths to signal that she was okay...albeit barely. As for now, there was no more fight to be had as the Prima Donna Darling was left utterly decimated and demolished, lying in a heap of her fruitless efforts and crushed dreams, ripe for the taking as all Ophelia had to do was walk over and end this, once and for all...bookending the pathetic fantasies of the gnat who ruined what should have been her perfect debut.

[SweetHeart]

The moment Ami’s head cracked against the unforgiving steel of the turnbuckle, a sickening finality echoed through the ring. Her body, already a broken puppet from the Helluva Kick, went completely, utterly limp. Her eyes, wide and vacant, stared blankly at the arena lights, seeing nothing. A thin trail of saliva traced from the corner of her mouth. The fight, the fire, the daring hope—all of it was extinguished. Ophelia landed on her feet with the practiced ease of a professional, Ophelia raised her right boot and placed it squarely on the center of Ami’s chest. The sole pressed down, not with crushing force, but with absolute, demeaning authority, the force and weight of it made the lifeless Ami’s shallow, ragged breath hitch.

“Count,” Ophelia commanded the referee, her voice flat and bored.

The referee, wincing slightly, dropped to the mat and began the formality.

SLAP!

“One!” The referee’s hand struck the canvas beside Ami’s head. There was no movement, not even a flicker of awareness from the fallen rookie.

SLAP!

“Two!” Ophelia adjusted her stance slightly, leaning more weight onto her foot.

SLAP!

“Three!” The final slap was the period at the end of a brutal sentence.

DING DING DING!

The bell clanged, sharp and decisive. The match was over.

”Here is your winner… OPHILIA VAN DER MEER!”

The announcement was almost an afterthought. Ophelia didn’t wait for it. The instant the third count hit, she lifted her boot from Ami’s chest as if removing it from something unpleasant. Ophelia felt the simmering embers of her annoyance flare once more. This...commoner had dared to mar her debut. She had forced Ophelia to break a sweat, to feel a moment of doubt. That transgression could not be forgiven with a simple pinfall. No, this required a more...memorable lesson. A signature of Ophelia's.

A slow, wicked smile spread across Ophelia's lips as an idea, both cruel and perfectly theatrical, took hold. She turned from her posing, her starry-eyed gaze going down to her chest as she took out a tube of lipstick she kept tucked in her busty bosom. With Ami most certainly not moving, she simply grabbed her by the hair with a firm grasp, painting her lips with the ruby red tube of lipstick. With sharp, precise strokes, she applied the vibrant crimson lipstick to Ami's mouth, coloring over the small cuts and smears of her own saliva. When she was done, she released Ami’s face, letting it thud back to the mat, the garish red of her lips a stark, shocking contrast to her pale, unconscious features.

"Up," Ophelia commanded, though Ami couldn't hear her. She grabbed her wrists, and hauled her upright to Ami, whom was dead weight, dragging her until she was propped in a pathetic semblance of a kneeling sit, slumped forward. Then, Ophelia turned. She presented her back to the audience and to her vanquished foe, her hands coming to rest on her huge hips, drawing every eye to the curve of her rear, proudly showcased by her high-cut gear. "Behold, the privilege you have earned through your irritating persistence," she announced, her voice carrying a mocking, didactic tone. "You are the first. The inaugural inductee. Welcome, peasant, to my 'Kiss My Ass Club.' Consider it a promotion from being mere jobber, at least people will remember you."

She didn't wait for a reaction Ami couldn't give. Reaching back, Ophelia's hands locked like vices around Ami's forearms. With a powerful, steady pull, she drew the unconscious girl's arms forward, using them as levers to manipulate her entire body. At the same time, she pushed her hips back, as Ami's face, adorned with its forced lipstick, was driven directly into the center of Ophelia's rear. The impact was soft, yet profoundly demeaning. Ophelia let out a slow, satisfied sigh, not of exertion, but of contentment. "There. The seal is applied."

Now began the true smothering. Ophelia adjusted her stance, planting her feet firmly. She tightened her grip on Ami's arms, ensuring the rookie had no chance of pulling away even if she were conscious. Then, Ophelia began to move. It was a slow, deliberate, and utterly dominating grind. She rolled her hips in a small, circular motion, pressing the full, yielding flesh of her posterior against Ami's face and mouth. Each rotation was a calculated act of suffocation, the sequined fabric and her own skin forming an airtight seal.

"KKiss it, and breathe it in," Ophelia purred, her head tilted back as she addressed the ceiling, speaking to Ami as if she were a captive audience. "The scent of victory. The texture of superiority. This is the closest you will ever come to true greatness." She increased the pressure, flexing the powerful muscles of her glutes, rhythmically squeezing and releasing, mimicking a cruel, smothering pulse. Ami's body, held upright only by Ophelia's iron grip on her arms, offered no resistance. Her head lolled within its silken prison, trapped in the dark, perfumed valley between Ophelia's cheeks. The only signs of life were the faint, desperate tremors in her shoulders and the way her chest, pressed against Ophelia's lower back, hitched in shallow, futile attempts to find air. Ophelia closed her eyes, as a simple serene smile was painted on her face, savoring the complete and utter submission of the girl who had dared to challenge her. The "Kiss My Ass Club" had its first unwilling member, branded not just with lipstick, but with an experience of utter, smothering defeat.

[Misfit_Alien]

It was over. Completely and totally over.

There was no last-moment kick-out or second wind burst of adrenaline. Ami was just...defeated. The bell rang, and the match was called, Ophelia removing her boot from the petite brunette's chest, a look of annoyance and displeasure on her face, as if she wasted her time on this, as if it were supremely disappointing. And to Ophelia, it probably was. However, the Superior Star found a way to fix the state of things and commemorate her less-than-desirable debut's performance with a rather 'special' occasion. If the evening's main course wasn't up to par, then she'd simply have to bring out the dessert to cap off the night with a memorable bang.

And so, with a wicked smile of devilish intent plastered on her face, Ophelia dragged Ami back into her clutches, a fiendish idea stirring in her mind as she revealed her tube of ruby red lipstick from her cleavage. She was going to make Ami PAY for ruining her debut, soiling her reputation, and defiling her pristine figure by suffering the ultimate humiliation. The Prima Donna Darling's penance would be paid with the sacrifice of her dignity, in front of a wide audience. If the Superior Spike served as Ophelia's version of a public execution, the following scene would be a proper humiliation ritual, one that would leave the crowd with the memory of Ami's defeat and eradication as opposed to their memories lingering on the slight stain suffered by Ophelia's image.

Meanwhile, the Prima Donna Darling was struggling to pick herself together, having not found a semblance of consciousness quite yet as she remained limp in Ophelia's custody, her lips now sporting a bright red coat of lipstick after Ophelia dolled her opponent up for what was to come. Like an artist illustrating a beautiful picture on a canvas, Ophelia dotted, lined, and stroked Ami's lips with the makeup until everything was perfect, holding her in place as she tugged on her hair. With that, Ami was forced onto her knees, sat atop her legs as she wobbled and panted. Now that all her preparations were in place, Ophelia spoke, detailing how Ami would be 'honored' with becoming the first to be inducted into her newfound 'Kiss My Ass' Club, saying it nice and loud for the audience to hear, ensuring her words...and the moment that was soon to follow...would be etched into their brains, and the only thing talked about going forward. Whenever people spoke of Ophelia's name, it would be in reaction to her sheer dominance and overwhelming might, paired with her sinister and devious method of punishing those who crossed her.

As for Ami...she'd have this moment etched deep into her very soul, as Ophelia dragged her into her hips, engaging in a deep smother as she pressed her round, jiggly, tight ass into Ami's face, burying her between her cheeks. The pressure was immense, and so was the heat, as Ami was forced to apply a nice and firm kiss onto Ophelia's rear, the wet sounds of lips meeting flesh clear for those in the front row to hear as Ophelia indulged herself at the Prima Donna Darling's expense. Just when you'd think it was over, Ophelia dragged Ami RIGHT back in, the first half merely a 'coronation' of sorts as Ami 'pledged' herself to Ophelia's new club...and now, like a good member, it was time to pay her dues and participate in their ritual, providing a CLEAR demonstration for what a KMA Club membership entailed. Her face was smushed between those curvy, plump cheeks again as sweat dripped down Ophelia's backside. The dark-skinned hips of the Superior Star radiated a warmth that Ami couldn't bear, along with an intoxicating scent that stirred Ami from her daze, only to drag her into a lustful, drunken haze as she tasted and smelled nothing but Ophelia...every desperate gasp was plagued with her smell and taste, as any bit of air that Ami managed to suck in was soon blocked off by the soft skin of Ophelia's ass as it scrubbed across her face, over and over and over again.

Ami couldn't stand it...she was too weak to fight back, and so she was thrown to and fro the realm of consciousness and sleep, smothered into submission and defeat over and over, only to be awoken by the endless scent of Ophelia's perfumed backside and subsequently KO'd again by the increasing pressure until Ophelia finally had her fill~...and as a result, Ami eventually climaxed, a dampness spilling out of her that left her tight bikini sopping wet with clear fluid spilling out from the seams as she trembled, falling unconscious yet again as a muffled moan escaped her lips, her body twitching as she remained helpless, her nose and lips firmly wedged between the Superior Star's perfect ass.

[SweetHeart]

WINNER VIA PINFALL: OPHELIA VAN DER MEER