Martina Hingis had felt like she was at a low point of her life for a while. The Swiss tennis player had been through several fights recently with various rivals, all of them turning out to be losses. Her entire nipple had been ripped of by a claw hammer in her last fight, and her small breasts were scarred and saggy from all the damage she had taken.
Perhaps the one thing that had kept her from quitting everything altogether was her new boyfriend. After the fight at their signing and press conference, she had been helped out by one of the journalists. She stayed with him at his invitation, and even spent enough time together to find out that his name was Paul. The help in her vulnerable times was greatly appreciated, and she’d wanted to pay him back regardless of how much he insisted. Their relationship had grown from there, and soon they were making love almost every night.
They had a bit of a rhythm to their sex at this point. Warming up with oral, kissing over each others’ bodies. Paul knew how Martina always moaned and writhed when he lingered over her breasts. They were in agony when he’d first helped her, and while they were much better now, she seemed to enjoy the dull pain of his gentle touches and licks. Even when he sucked at the scar tissue where her one nipple had been, she gasped and thrust her chest out for him.
He finally sat back in the bed, pulling her onto his lap. Martina smiled at him with warm but hungry eyes, desperately wanting this sensual reassurance. “You’re beautiful,” he told her as he led her by the hand closer to him.
“You lie,” she replied, but with a giggle in her voice. It was a point of shame at first, but for how much he flattered her, it was more of a game by now. “I’m a scarred up loser, aren’t I?”
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, pulling her closer still until his cock pushed against her freshly healed pussy lips. “You’re my sexy little champ.”
Martina smiled wider, leaning in and kissing him as she properly mounted his cock. She started to grind up and down, twitching sharply when he seemed to hit just the right spot. Her groin had taken a lot of beating and clawing in the fight as well, and he still wasn’t sure how much of her reactions were from how sensitive it had become from all its suffering. Regardless, it clearly drove Martina wild, riding him as she grunted almost savagely. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he rubbed his hands up her sides before gently cupping her breasts.
“Squeeze them,” she whispered to him, her breath brushing over his lips. Paul knew she’d gotten used to their tenderness, and he gave it a firm squeeze. Any other person might have thought they would pop, but the soft muscle and flesh inside them oozed around under his touch. Martina gave a shrill shout, something that had made Paul stop and pull away the first few times it had happened. Now he just squeezed even harder, knowing it was less of a pain as it was overloading her sexual instincts. She humped him in slow, hard thrusts, and he could hear her loose and wet twat squish against her erection. As much as he loved the beautiful woman on top of him, hearing her almost pained responses to his fucking was an incredible rush.
“That’s it. That’s perfect,” Martina panted, riding him harder and faster by the minute. “Fuck your champ, baby. Give it to me hard. You know I can take it.” One of the Swiss tennis star’s hands ran over his chest, the other actually running through her hair and pulling on it. He had to wonder if Martina was always such a masochist in bed, or if the fight had traumatized her into this kind of mentality. Either way, she seemed to love it. He pulled on her nipple and kissed along her neck, even biting at the tender muscle. Martina panted and wailed desperately, finally shaking as she came on him. He felt the hot rush of her fluids as her loose lips tried to clench around his shaft. Even as he intensified his pumping, she rode him into a second orgasm before he even came in her once.
The two kissed as their husky screams went between their lips, emptying their fluids into each other before they slowed to a sweaty embrace. “You were amazing, Tina,” Paul flattered her, stroking a hand through her sweaty hair. “Scars and all.”
“Imagine what I was like before all the damage.” She smiled, sitting up a bit to arch her back and pose for him proudly.
“Well, I don’t care what they say in the magazines. You seem plenty in shape to me. You ever think of going back out there?”
Martina would have shuddered or cried at the idea a few weeks ago, but now she thought about it. “I think so,” she confirmed, slowly sliding off of Paul’s dick and laying next to him. He curled up against her, a head resting on her drooping breast. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to get back into tennis. Serena and them, they’d never let me be. I need something… different.”
“Please don’t say golf,” Paul sighed. “I hate covering golf.”
Martina laughed and gave him a harmless smack to the chest. “No, dummy. I want to fight again. I mean, I have a lot of matches under my belt. I may not have won, but I did some damage in there. Those girls didn’t exactly come out in mint condition themselves.”
“One of those ‘you should see the other girl’ fights,” Paul chuckled. “Well, if you’re interested, I have been hearing about someone scouting for some new talent. And if they’re taking in rookies, I’m sure they’d love to have a big name like you?”
“Really? Who is it?”
Paul made some calls on her behalf, and soon Martina had signed on with the WWE. The wrestling league was often striking deals with athletes and guest stars, so the owner Vince McMahon himself was quick to hurry through the process of getting Martina onboard. The tennis star was glad to play along. She imagined this would be a great stepping stone in her career. She’s play her way through a few staged fights, getting herself back on the map and showing she could still hold her own. She knew the fights were all scripted anyway, but she still respected them as athletes.
Vince McMahon didn’t quite see it that way himself. Martina may not have known his reputation as a notorious schemer, and he’d been among the wealthy few who had been able to witness (or at least obtain footage) from all of Martina’s fights. He knew a good target when he saw one, and Martina wouldn’t see it coming. Martina had signed on for a minimum of two matches in her contract, but he’d been sure to slip in a clause that he could determine which those matches were at any time.
You can imagine Martina’s surprise when she showed up the night of her show and was told it was going to be a mud wrestling match. Martina was briefly outraged, but decided to let it go. She felt like she had more experience than anyone in this league when it came to real fighting, so she’d have plenty to go off of. Plus, any real skill would count even less in such a silly sort of fight with little to no actual wrestling involved. She was put up against Trish Stratus, a former women’s champ that Martina vaguely knew about, and honestly considered a bit of a joke for how they treated the women’s division in this league. She felt like her point was a bit more valid as she put on the bikini they’d given her, a neon green two piece with the league’s big shiny W symbol on one of the breasts.
Martina went out waving to the crowd, playing up the lighthearted tone she was getting from the match. She wasn’t all the way into the oversized kiddy pool full of mud when Trish, in her glittery pink bikini, charged down the ramp, smashing both fists into Martina’s back and sending her falling over into the mud. Martina didn’t imagine that Trish had direct orders from Vince to put Martina through the wringer, mud match or no.
Trish absolutely destroyed Martina for the next five minutes. The tennis star never got a leg to stand on as Trish dunked her head into the mud, smearing it over her face until she was choking on it. Martina was fighting in a blind panic, something Trish could easily use to her advantage. She threw Martina around the pool by the hair, quickly coating her in the slick brown mess from head to toe. Martina scrambled to the edge of the pool, spitting out the stuff while trying to climb out. Trish just grabbed the back of her bikini bottoms and pulled up, lifting Martina off her feet with a wedgie from hell.
The whole fight went down as if Martina had come for mud wrestling, but Trish thought it was a title fight. She choked Martina with her hands and feet, raked her nails over her face, and ended up winning the fight after she grabbed Martina from behind and lifted her into a total of four atomic drops, destroying the newcomer’s pussy over her knee. Martina was a sobbing, choking mess in the middle of the pool by the time Trish was done with her. The pro wrestler ended up pinning the dazed and seemingly powerless Martina, then pulling off Martina’s muddy swimsuit off and throwing the pieces to the crowd before strutting backstage. Martina had to be helped backstage, and her only saving grace being that her naked body was entirely covered in mud, keeping the huge, cheering crowd from seeing anything too intimate. It wouldn’t help from how much pain her pussy had been through, leaving her unable to have sex for a week, and the ache still there for ages.
This wasn’t enough to keep Martina from being utterly furious about the setup. She went into McMahon’s office the next day, demanding to set up her next fight as soon as possible. Vince smiled and played along, even when she named her stakes and her opponent; his daughter, Stephanie McMahon, in an anything goes cage match. After the fight, the winner had an hour to do whatever they wished with the loser within the cage.
Martina was mad, but she wasn’t going into this making mistakes either. She was made a fool of by Trish, but she felt like it was all part of the politics of the league. Vince had told her to play hardball, and pulled his strings to get her to do so. But he wasn’t the only one who could pull that. She asked around a bit before she was led to Triple H, another big name pro in the league who happened to be Stephanie’s boyfriend. With a bit of sweet talking, they worked out a deal. After a bit of steamy kissing back in his dressing room, she went to her knees and sucked off the buff wrestler. After she swallowed his load, she wiped off her mouth and stood up, pointing at him sternly.
“So we’re clear?” she pressed.
HHH just smiled and nodded as he adjusted his pants. “I’ll get you the key to the cage an hour before the fight. And I’ll talk to the refs. They won’t search you for anything.”
“There’s a good boy,” she smiled, kissing him once more before she left, confident that this time the match was in the bag.
***
The following week, Martina was back in the ring, a steel cage lowered around it earlier in the show. A single door was on either side to let the women in, Martina secreting away a spare key in her sports bra. The ref had given a cursory pat down over Stephanie McMahon, even if it was played up as more of an excuse to show off her shapely implants. The management’s daughter received her share of boos, but many found it hard to hate the shapely young woman in her tanktop and tight jeans. Stephanie didn’t have any particular grudge with Martina herself, but she didn’t need one. The power-hungry girl felt reason enough to bring her down a peg for having the nerve to challenge her.
Martina had even less of a check, as they simply looked her over and let her into the cage without so much as touching her. Just as they had arranged. She wore a simple red white top and some longer shorts to the fight, leaving her plenty of space to store some nasty surprises. With that all out of the way and the cage locked, the bell rang and both women charged straight for each other.
Martina came out swinging, grabbing Stephanie by the hair and pounding her in the face. Steph was forced to take the blows as she was caught off guard, but she cut Martina off with a kick to the former athlete’s stomach. Martina doubled up and held her stomach while Stephanie grabbed her by the hair and shoved her backward, letting Martina topple off her feet. She landed on her ass with her shoulders rested against the ropes, Stephanie quickly storming after her.
The bratty wrestler stomped on Martina’s chest, getting a bit grunt from the Swiss tennis star as her breasts bounced beneath her top. Stephanie regained her footing before she drive her foot down onto Martina’s breast again, grinding her heel into it and pressing Martina’s back against both the ropes and the bars that were just an inch or two beyond them. Martina let out a pained wail, the crowd quickly starting to cheer for the breast-centric violence. But as Steph kept her foot locked in place against Martina’s tit, the athlete swung one of her legs and kicked Steph squarely in the crotch.
Steph quickly withdrew her leg, falling onto her side and crossing her legs as she kicked and thrashed from the sudden low blow. Martina rolled onto her knees, just to press one into Stephanie’s neck. The rich girl gagged and thrashed as the leg choked her out and trapped her against the mats.
“Too bad you got stuck going up against a REAL fighter, huh, you poser bitch?” Martina taunted the breathless Stephanie. She finally pulled her leg back, only to quickly rake her nails across Stephanie’s face as she rose. Steph shrieked and grabbed her face, rolling onto her knees to try to protect it. Martina smirked down at the blinded and hurting pro. This was going to be easier than she thought. She had been scared for nothing.
She forced Steph back to her feet by the hair, but before she could push her upright, Steph grabbed onto her thighs. Martina halted as the grip cut her off and Steph headbutted her in the groin. Martina grunted hard from the impact, making her easy pickings for Stephanie to scoop her up and flip Martina over her shoulders. Martina landed with a heavy thud behind Stephanie, but as soon as she was back upright, Steph fell back and landed an elbow drop straight into one of Martina’s tits.
“Who’s the real fighter now, you washed up cxnt!?” Steph shouted at the downed athlete, who was rolling to her side holding her breast. Steph forced Hingis back to her feet and whipped her into a corner. Martina crashed into the turnbuckle, but winching as she rubbed her chest once again. But as the McMahon heiress ran after her, Hingis pushed off the ropes and rolled aside, letting Stephanie crash into it in her place. A stunned Steph bounced off the ringpost, but Martina quickly grabbed her hair and hurled her back into it.
“I’ll show you, you poser brat,” Martina snarled, leaving Steph’s back against the corner catching her breath as she hung onto the ropes. Martina reached into her shorts, getting a few whistles and catcalls as the lewd gesture. Steph wasn’t sure what was happening, but she tried to rush Martina while her hands were busy. She was shocked when Martina’s hand came back out wearing the brass knuckles she had smuggled in her panties. The crowd popped for a moment just before Martina smashed the hard metal into Stephanie McMahon’s face.
Steph was hurled back as her body limply staggered into the corner by the weighted blow. Steph only stayed up by holding the ropes, making her easy prey for Martina. The brutal tennis player smashed a few more shots with the brass knuckles into Stephanie’s ribs, making her cornered enemy wince and try to curl up to protect herself. With her arms curled up trying to protect herself, Stephanie wasn’t prepared for when Martina grabbed her top and tore it upward. The fabric ripped in a few places before Martina pulled it completely over Stephanie’s head, getting another big cheer from the crowd as the bossy bitch’s tits were exposed to the world.
Steph’s fumbling arms moved up to try to cover her chest, humiliated from her chest being bared even more than Martina’s had the week before. There was no mud to hide all her flesh and curves, including the bruising growing around her midsection from Martina’s smuggled weapon. While she was too busy trying to maintain her modesty, Martina had no problem grabbing Steph by the hair and slamming her into the cage bars. Martina dragged Steph’s face across the cold steel, banging her head off of every rod on the way.
Martina started towards the cage’s door when Stephanie slammed a forearm into her back. The Swiss athlete staggered and just avoided falling to her knees, releasing Steph’s hair from her grasp. Martina turned to try to give her another metal-plated punch in the head, but Steph ducked down as she turned and delivered a punch of her own into Martina’s pussy.
Martina fell to her knees with her face showing nothing but agony. Stephanie stood back up, throwing kicks into the sides of Martina’s rack. Steph’s own big implants bounced whenever she gleefully struck the tennis player’s damaged breasts. Martina was still too out of it from the cheap shot to her twat to fight back, forced to take the rough boots to the tits. After a half dozen of those, Steph stepped back and gave a short sprint before smashing her sole into Martina’s face.
The pretty brunette fell hard to the mats, rolling slowly and clutching her face. Steph took a moment to grope at her breasts, as if making sure they were in order and that there wasn’t any good way to cover them after Martina had stretched and ruined her top. Failing to find any better solution, she put her hands behind her head to pose for the catcalling crowd. It was still embarrassing, but she tried to save face by owning it.
She moved in on Martina, who had taken her hand away from her face to realize she had a bloody lip from the last boot to the face. She was leaning on one arm trying to rise when Steph came up behind her and grabbed her by the hair, throwing her into the bars of the cage. Martina’s forehead bounced off the unforgiving steel, managing to hook her arms (mostly by coincidence) on the ropes to stay standing. Stephanie showed that she was far more familiar with the ring itself by pulling one of Martina’s arms free, just to bend it around the next rope at a backward angle that unnaturally bent Martina’s elbow.
Martina screamed, her mouth open wide as she kicked and thrashed against Stephanie’s twisted hold. “Gonna cry, cxnt!?” Stephanie shouted bitterly in Martina’s face. The manager’s daughter was already showing a dark bruise on her cheek from the brass knuckles. “I’m going to end your career right here, you washed up bitch!”
Martina started to pull her arm free, so Stephanie used a hand to shove Martina’s face and bang her face into the bars. Stephanie twisted her hand against her head, grinding the brunette’s face against the steel as it grated and ground against her cheeks and nose.
Steph seemed to be brutally in control of this match when Martina lifted a foot up sharply behind her, bashing Steph’s cxnt with her heel. The rich bitch jolted back clutching her pussy, Martina freeing up her arm and rubbing it gingerly as she followed her. Martina took Stephanie by the hair, forcing her to her knees and then bending her neck and body backward before putting her in a headlock. Steph reached out and grabbed for anything to right herself, but Martina kept her too far from the ropes to do anything about it. She slammed her forearm onto Steph’s naked chest, rocking her already strained body before she turned her attention higher. She raked her claws down Stephanie’s vulnerable face, leaving the rich girl screaming as she started to draw blood down her cheek.
Stephanie clawed at her back, but her awkward angle left her unable to reach anything vulnerable enough to make Martina let go. The best she managed was to catch Martina’s top by the collar, which she tore down on until it and her bra were ripped wide open down the front.
This made Martina recoil and try to cover herself. Stephanie’s humiliation as an executive was easily matched by Martina’s own shame, her hands folding over the injured breasts. The crowd still cheered and laughed, snapping pictures of her old injuries. Her small, sagging tits were beaten enough to look weak and scarred, and the missing nipple ripped off by Sharapova was a particular point of humiliation. She tried to grab and hopelessly fix her top, but Stephanie grabbed the other end and pulled. The brief tug of war left it torn into a useless strip of cloth not fit to cover even her own shrunken chest.
Martina was too caught up with overcoming her crushed ego when Stephanie tackled into her waist. She drove Martina back until her shoulders hit the turnbuckle, rattling the topless tennis player. Martina tried to gain her footing, but Stephanie grabbed the ropes and used them to shoot a knee into Martina’s belly just above her groin. Martina gave a sickly gasp, clutching her stomach and bending over. Steph just grabbed her hair and forced her back upright, this time splashing her entire upper body into her. Martina groaned as she was crushed by the far bigger breasts, Steph’s hard nipples gouging into her vulnerable chest.
“Feel that, bitch?!” Stephanie barked at her. “Those are the best tits money can buy! But here you are looking like you got your reconstruction done in a junkyard!” Steph backed off, letting Martina slump into the corner enough that she could shove her tits into her face, roughly motorboating her as she showed off just how superior her chest was to the broken tennis player’s.
Steph grabbed her arm to try to whip her into the opposite corner, this time tits first, but Martina planted her feet and grabbed the ropes to stop herself. When Steph turned back around confused, Martina raked her across the eyes with her nails. The young exec shrieked and held her face, eyes watering as she felt a trickle of blood coming from her forehead. She felt to her knees, trying to curl up protectively while she was momentarily blinded. Martina actually ignored her for the moment to head over to the remains of her top. She pulled out her tattered bra, fishing around until she produced the key to the cage. A mix of cheers and boos came up as her secret was revealed, but she turned back to Steph with the key clenched in her fist. She kneed Steph in the back, making her flop down to the mat face first.
Martina straddled Stephanie’s back, producing the key and holding it overhead as the other pulled on Stephanie’s hair. The witless and hurt-looking brat clawed at that mats, trying to squirm away, but Martina held her still as she dragged the tip of the key and its rough teeth to gouge a rough, bloody cut into Stephanie’s forehead. Stephanie screamed her breath away as Martina took out her fury through her small weapon, and soon an uneven wound was streaming blood into her face.
“This’ what happens when you fuck with me!” Martina shouted, both at the crying Stephanie and seemingly the rest of the crowd and fighters. Obsessed with restoring her ego, she held onto Steph’s hair and dragged her towards the edge of the cage. Martina shoved Stephanie’s big proud chest into the bars, dragging them across the metal bar after bar before Martina reached the door. Martina inserted her key and unlocked the gate, the crowd raising their voices in mixed excitement and outrage (thinking she was trying to escape). Martina turned out to have no such intention, and instead of leaving, she shoved Stephanie up to the open doorway.
“Hope those fakes of yours weren’t too expensive!” Martina shouted, just before she slammed the door shut around Stephanie’s breasts. The edge of the door crushed around her perky tits, getting a terrible scream out of Stephanie. Her weak attempts to pull herself free were halted by Martina’s handful of hair, allowing her to swing the door open and shut it on her again. Martina rode the momentum as she bashed it open and closed around Stephanie’s breasts, with one swing of the dense metal finally digging in deeper than the rest.
Steph let out a twisted cry of agony until drool poured out over her lips. The closer fans and the zooming cameras could see that her breast bent at a concerning angle in the spots where the cage had crushed the tender flesh. It was bruised and distorted, and as Martina pulled back the cage door again, they sagged weakly. Martina had broken her tits, busting the implants inside! Steph wailed and fell to her knees, clutching her broken breasts, but Martina swung her by the hair to bounce her bloody forehead off the door’s final bar.
Steph fell back, crying and hurt on the mats. She cupped at her chest, concerned with how soft and almost fluid they felt. Martina paraded proudly around the ring, raising her fists to the bloodthirsty crowd as they cheered on the topless lead in the match. She finally turned back and sat on Stephanie’s back, cupping her chin and bending her head upward sharply.
“Watch the screen, you weak little bitch,” Martina panted, shaking some sweaty hair from her face. “I think you’re gonna like this.” She signalled to the crew, and they started to roll the footage from HHH’s dressing room. Steph stared in utter horror as she was forced to watch her boyfriend kissing Martina instead of her, and him handing her the key. The crowd gave mixed boos for the dirty move and hoots for the erotic scene added to their violence. Out in the crowd, though, Martina’s new boyfriend was not nearly as amused. Steph was embarrassed, but the reporter stood up and left the arena.
Martina finally threw Stephanie back to the mats, letting her lay there hurt and humiliated. Martina took her moment of weakness to go back out the cage door, reaching under the ring and out a tennis racket. Steph hadn’t even gotten to her knees by the time Martina was armed and back inside the cage. Martina delivered a fierce and showy backhand to the sluggish Stephanie’s head, knocking her flat on her back.
Steph’s blood-spattered tits puffed up and down from her pained breathing, even in their semi-deflated state. Martina stood over her and brought the racket down across her tits, landing with a sharp whacking noise. Steph flopped and shrieked, trying to cover up her damaged chest. Martina just kicked her hands away, swatting her again and again with her “weapon” of choice.
Steph surprised everyone when she kicked Martina in the knee, suddenly tripping up the athlete. Steph rose to her knees and grabbed her by the hair, looking unsteady even as she swung several wild punches into Martina’s head. The blonde was severely rattled by Stephanie’s barrage, but she turned and flung the manager’s daughter into the ropes. Steph clumsily caught herself against them, but Martina pulled down on her pants and exposed her ass to the crowd. Stephanie shrieked and grabbed at the ropes, trying to pull herself out of Martina’s grip, but the tennis player pulled until the younger fighter’s lower half was lifted off the mats. Martina finally tore her pants off, leaving her naked body to splash out on the mats.
Martina put Stephanie against the ropes once again, draping her arms and tits over the middle ropes. Martina grabbed her racket once again, this time giving a power swing into Stephanie’s ass cheeks. The heavy blows not only flattened Steph’s ass, but rocked her body hard enough to jerk forward and bang her breasts against the cage’s bars for a double-sided attack.
Martina finally stopped to rest her arm, shaking her shoulders out and raising her fist triumphantly for the crowd. She pauses to look over the roaring fans, spotting the empty seat where her lover had been before. While she was busy looking for him, Stephanie was able to drag herself up on the ropes. As soon as Martina turned back to face her, she was charging and slammed her with a clothesline. The surprising blow floored Martina, and Steph fell to her knees to straddle Martina’s scarred chest and pummel her with furious slaps to the head.
Martina couldn’t even see straight under the sudden counter-attack, especially when Steph buried her nails in her hair and started to bang her skull against the mat. The crowd erupted at the sudden turn of events, Steph tearing into Martina until she was seeing stars. When Steph finally seemed content with her attack (but still furious), she shoved Martina’s head to the mat once more. “This is why you don’t fuck with the boss!” Stephanie shouted at her, getting a big cheer from the crowd as she stood back up.
Stephanie grabbed Martina by the ankle, dragging her sore tits across the mats and giving them a nasty burn. Martina wailed and clawed at the mat to try to stop herself, suddenly starting to regret going through with the match now that all her edges had not only failed to stop the bloodied Steph, but had pissed her off. Steph reached the edge of the ring and grabbed Martina by the waist of her shorts, pulling them off with her panties in one fell swoop.
Martina curled up to try to cover as much as her embarrassing nudity as she could, but Steph just positioned herself by her legs so she could kick her in the pussy. Martina howled out as the toes drove into her snatch, making the tennis star flop like a fish from the invasive pain. She was powerless to stop Steph as she dragged Martina over to the ropes. Steph spun her around her by one arm until she released Martina to fly face and tits first into the relentless steel bars of the cage.
Martina’s head bounced off with a clang, but her soft, small tits sticking to them with sweat as she leaned into them. The already misshapen breasts were smushed against the bars, which was only made worse when Stephanie started to kick her in the back. Martina screamed with each shot, as it not only hurt her spine but crushed her scarred and sensitive breasts into the bars again. Martina grabbed the bars to try to push herself back, but Stephanie balled up both of her fists into a single mass and swung into the back of her head. Martina’s eyes went wide and glassy, her face bashing into the bars again and falling over backward, blood running from her nose and lips over her chin and chest.
Martina’s vision was blurry, but she could hear the crowd getting excited for something. She looked up wearily and saw Stephanie looming over her, but she looked smaller and far away. She realized too late what was happening, trying to roll over and crawl away, but she was too tired and in too much pain. Stephanie had scaled to the top turnbuckle, jumping off and landing with her knees spiking into Martina’s ruined tits. Martina screamed with all her might as the landing was enough to squirt some blood out of the cheating tennis player’s nipple. Stephanie rolled off her, thrusting her fists in the air with a triumphant “YEA!”
While the crowd ate it up, it was clear that the sobbing, motionless Martina was out of the fight. Her feet shuffled in a desperate attempt to push herself to the exit of the cage, to flee from her mistake in challenging to such a brutal fight. She knew what was coming, and she didn’t want to imagine what kind of payback Stephanie had in mind. But it was too late. Steph kicked her in the jaw, and she blacked out just a moment after she heard the distant bell declaring her loss.
Martina came to with her hands zip-tied behind her back, still laying in the middle of the cage. Stephanie was still there, of course, but with a bright pink strapon and a sinister grin on her bloody face.
“Morning, you fucked up little poser!” Stephanie welcomed, immediately taking Martina by the hair. Martina whined pathetically, but was forced to her hands and knees and led over to the ropes. Steph shoved her face into the bars for another quick bang, sending another shock through Martina’s already spinning head.
“Now let’s see how bad that ruined cxnt of yours really is!” Stephanie demanded, reaching between Martina’s legs and forcing them apart.
“No… no. Please, stop,” Martina pleaded, but Stephanie ignored (or maybe savored) her cries. Steph thrust the strapon deep into her damaged pussy, and like the kicks to her back, it both abused her crotch and banged her face against the bars. It was obviously less intense on her head, but in her beaten state it didn’t take much to put her through hell. Her kicked and clawed crotch was sore and loose, with wet pumping noises sounding as Steph violated her. Her once lovely face now distorted her skin and smeared her blood over the bars, putting her on full view for the crowd as her sagging, small tits dangled from her ribs. Steph’s own busted implants wobbled with a similarly active and lopsided display.
Martina wailed and cried, but she started to hear another set of moaning voices. “Enjoy the show, you useless bitch!” Stephanie jeered, grabbing Martina by the hair and angling her head upward. Martina’s position had purposely left her facing the giant screens over the entrance ramp to the ring. There was a webcam’s view blinking “Live” in the corner, showing a nearby hotel room. Martina’s boyfriend was there in the bed, being ridden by Serena Williams. Both were naked, cursing and moaning loudly as if ignorant of the watching and whistling crowd.
Martina couldn’t believe it. She shook her head weakly, even as it dragged her cheeks over the bars.
“You think I wouldn’t know what you did?” Stephanie growled at her, twisting her handful of hair as she continued to stuff Martina full of the painfully hard rubber cock. “That you sucked my man and tried to rig the match? He told me all about it. I just didn’t pussy out like you did and try to cheat. I DID plan out some payback with your old friend Serena, though.”
The betraying couple moaned louder on the camera, as if sensing that Martina was watching. Serena bounced harder on Paul’s cock, taking his hands and forcing them to rub over her firm black breasts. “Come on, baby,” she grunted lustily. “Feel those titties. No more flabby little excuse for tits like your old girl. You’ve got a REAL woman now!”
Martina shuddered in despair, even as the strapon pounded her unwilling pussy into submission. It tensed as much as it could before squirting over the invading dildo, cumming in the middle of the ring and in front of hundreds of fans. The crowd laughed and jeered as Steph pulled out, turning to smack Martina across the face with the still sticky sex toy. Martina slumped weakly over the middle ropes, panting for air as Stephanie seemed to walk away. She just turned back, now with Martina’s tennis racket in hand.
“Can’t win a fight, can’t keep a man… I’d say go back to tennis, but you sucked at that too!” Steph shouted at her, turning the racket around and shoving the handle up Martina’s open ass. Martina screamed even louder, shaking weakly as each pump dug the tool of her trade deeper inside her rear. By the time Martina released it to check the timer, the handle of the racket was wedged almost halfway inside of her and wriggling like a comical tail.
Steph grinned up at the timer on one of the many smaller screens. “Looks like I’ve still got a half hour with you, Tina,” the younger fighter grinned. “But I’m the generous kind of boss. I think we could stand to share you a little.” She grabbed Martina by the hair and threw her out of the ring, proceeding to drag the bloody tennis star by the hair backstage. She shoved her into the men’s locker room, shouting in after her. “Enjoy it, boys! She’s on me!” before walking away laughing.
HHH and a number of other wrestlers grinned down at the defenseless athlete, Martina shaking her head fearfully. She was powerless to stop them as she was quickly groped and her every hole stuffed with cock to smother out her moans and cries, gangbanging the loser well after the time limit. After all, no one had told them about any timer.
The End