But Carlinda took one look at my panties and the expression on her face froze.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Before I could say anything, the woman disappeared into a door in the wall. I swear, there hadn’t been a door a moment earlier, but she pressed something, and suddenly a slot opened and she was gone.
Great. Now what? I stood in nothing but a pair of panties in a featureless white room. What was going on?
But soon Carlinda appeared again, this time bearing a silver platter.
“Here,” she said smoothly. “Please put these on these instead.”
I blinked because there was something on the platter, but it wasn’t more than the tiniest scrap of lace. Literally not more than two strings connected together with a tiny piece of fabric laced in between them.
“You must be kidding,” I breathed, staring at the tiny red cloth. “Who wears lingerie like that?”
Carlinda’s expression brooked no nonsense.
“You,” she said firmly. “And all the other girls who wrestle.”
With disbelieving fingers, I plucked the cloth from the platter.
“This?” I asked. “This is a postage stamp at best!”
Postage stamp wasn’t a metaphor. There couldn’t have been more than one square inch of material strung between two flimsy ties.
But Carlinda’s expression remained expressionless.
“Please put it on,” she said with a frozen smile. “And then we’ll proceed to the ring.”
I shook my head, contemplating my options. On the one hand, I could refuse and go home. I’d probably never see Shaft again, which meant that I’d descend into depression and my life would be ruined. Not to mention I’d lose my trust fund.
Or, I could put on this scrap of nothing and let myself go with the flow. This way, I’d feel Shaft’s hard cock in my pussy, the man’s penis jerking and twitching as he pumped his virile goodness into me. I could finally count myself as a woman, instead of a dumpy, awkward girl forced to go to the gym by her stepmom.
The choice was clear. With trembling hands, I stripped my tanga off and slowly stepped into the g-string. Oh god, it was so small. The postage stamp barely covered my clit, vag lips puffing out around the sides. And there was nothing but a string between my butt cheeks, disappearing into my crack before reappearing at waist level and connecting to another string around my hips.
Oh god. This was really happening, and yet I wanted it. I wanted Shaft to see me like this, and to lose control in front of others. I wanted him to be so big and horny that he couldn’t control his actions, burrowing that hot cock into my folds until I screamed.
So I took a deep breath and looked Carlinda in the eye.
“I’m ready,” came my tight voice.
She smiled like a Cheshire cat.
“Of course,” the woman said smoothly. “Put these on please, and then I’ll take you to the ring.”
Somehow, from somewhere, a pair of red stilettos had appeared, sky high and precarious.
“I’m going to wear those while wrestling?” I asked disbelievingly. “How does that work?”
Carlinda’s face was as smooth as a stone.
“You’ll be allowed to take them off once inside the ring,” she said. “But you’ll need these for the walk. It’s good marketing,” she said. “You’ll see.”
My head spinning, slowly I put them on. Everything felt different once the stilettos sheathed my feet. I was five inches taller for one. Not only that, but the heels forced my already enormous breasts out, the tips swaying this way and that as my hips were pulled in, my stomach sucking in on itself.
Carlinda eyed me critically before nodding with approval.
“Perfect,” she said. “Come along now.”
And pressing another invisible button, a door slid open in the wall, with a long hallway reaching into the darkness. Teetering, I followed the woman into the hallway.
“Carlinda,” I said hesitantly. But then my words stopped. Because the hallway wasn’t just any hallway. There were men on both sides, seated, laughing and talking as she proceeded to walk me through the tunnel. It was like walking down a runway as all around my form, handsome males drank liquor, smoked cigars, and eyed my naked body.
Because the truth of what I was doing crashed down once again. I was completely nude except for a tiny g-string and red stilettos, every single inch of my body nude and available. My curves swung lushly with every movement, nipples hard and tempting.
“Come on,” said Carlinda, turning and fixing me with a stare. “Come Lily.”
Slowly, I made my way into the hallway, taking one slow step after another. It wasn’t quite as bad as I expected. I thought the billionaires would leer like disgusting dogs, but instead they merely shot a couple glances my way, letting their eyes trail over my curves while continuing to drink and laugh.
I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes fixed forward even as my skin heated under those scorching looks. Because to my shame, I liked showing off my assets to these obviously powerful and wealthy men. I liked the way masculine eyes assessed my girls, how their gazes ran hungrily from my breasts to my cunt, and then back again.
And to my shame, my pussy began moistening under the g-string. Oh god, could they see? Was that postage stamp of fabric getting dark with my juices? I didn’t want to bend my head to look, but I could feel myself getting wet inside, the unmistakable aroma of hungry cunt filling the air.
And finally, the gauntlet was over. We walked for what felt like a mile, but was probably only a hundred feet.
“This is only a beginner’s crowd,” soothed Carlinda as she pressed another button. “This is nothing like the championship round.”
My cheeks flushed. What? Championship round? What was Battle Bang exactly? It clearly wasn’t some fly-by-night production in the basement of Petey’s gym. Instead, this was a world of wealth, power, and domination that I’d never imagined even in my dreams.
So taking one last deep breath, I stepped through the doorway and into a brightly lit ring. My eyes blinked, squinting against the glare. There were nets draped around the square space, plus a giant blue mat clearly meant for wrestling. Somehow, all the men who’d been into the hallway had migrated to surround the ring, sitting in plush recliners while continuing to smoke and drink.
But I didn’t care about them anymore because I had eyes only for one man.
Shaft.
He stood on the other side of the floor, arms folded across his chest, feet planted apart. And oh god, but he was delectable. The man’s muscles bulged, his skin gleaming under the lights. Those pecs were hard slabs of meat, his abs tight and taut. My alpha wore something that was a cross between a towel and shorts, pure white fabric swathed around his hips loosely with bulging thighs underneath.
And immediately, every fear flew out of my head. Because this was the moment I was born for. To belong to him. To be his. To submit to the hard male … while mewling with pleasure.
CHAPTER NINE
Shaft
Oh shit, she was gorgeous. Lily appeared in the doorway, and a hush fell over the crowd, she was that beautiful.
The tips of her breasts, a faint pinkish-rose, hard and tasty.
The way her boobs swayed as she walked, graceful and lush.
Her hips, wide as a house and yet delectable, topped with a giant rump in back.
And finally, that sweetness, hidden by the tiniest scrap of cloth. By the end of this match I was going to rip that from her and bury myself in tight.
It was gonna be fucking awesome, and I couldn’t wait.
Judging from the crowd, they couldn’t wait either. All around us, billionaire males sat around on plush recliners, lounging and drinking, chatting with one another as Lily was brought into the ring. But I saw how their eyes followed that female form, more than a couple dicks already hard from the visual.
Because she’s gorgeous, and this is what lights our fire. We don’t pummel each oth
er, bloody and bruised like some imaginary Fight Club. That’s fucking dumb. Instead, Battle Bang is a thousand times better. We wrestle juicy, curvy women, and then push our dongs into them in the end, the girls creaming hard as they get it good.
And we make it worthwhile for the females as well. The chickadees get paid well for their service, and quite a few ask to come back for second or even third rounds. The money’s enough to support their lifestyles for a year, so why not? One night of taking dong in front of a group of men, and then you’re set for another three hundred and sixty-five days.
Hell, I’d do it if I were a woman, and lucky enough to get picked for Battle Bang. In fact, I’d volunteer myself every night if possible because the money’s that good.
But Lily doesn’t know that there’s a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow because my girl is innocent and sweet, and money was never going to be her motivation. Instead, the bond we’ve built over these past couple weeks is what’s pulling her to this event. Lily thinks that we’re in love, and that’s what’s motivating her to come.
Love? What’s love? I have no idea what that is.
But frankly, I’m not sure what to think about our interactions anymore either. Because these last few weeks have been amazing. Seeing her twice a day at the gym. Coaching her as we work-out. Talking with her as we push her limits, both in bed and out of it. Tasting those sweet curves while listening to her moan.
So if love means being head over heels obsessed with a female to the point where you can’t imagine yourself with anyone else, then I’d say I’m in love. I don’t know though. I’ve been a bachelor for four decades now, and old habits die hard.
Incredibly though, feelings flood my chest as she teeters into the space. It’s a blue padded mat with a white circle painted in the middle, surrounded by high nets in case body parts go flying.
Fuck yeah, our games can get intense. You need those nets given what’s about to happen.
But the only thing that I can think about as Lily slowly slips off those high heels is how I want her to be happy. I want her to be comfortable and at ease, even during this incredible moment.
She shoots me a nervous look and as always, the world disappears until it’s only the two of us in a mind-meld, looking at each other through a narrow tunnel.
Relax sweetheart, I mouth. Everything’s going to be okay.
Lily smiles immediately, relief flooding her form. Hell yeah, she’s so responsive. But I can’t blame her for being nervous either because who wouldn’t be? There are bright lights all around and a dozen guys or so watching from the corners of their eyes. They’ll be scrutinizing us even more closely in a few moments, watching as I seize handfuls of tit before slowly spreading her thighs apart for the best ride of her life.
But right now, it’s just me and the girl, and I will her to let go of the stress. She smiles sweetly at me, nodding subtly, and suddenly the bell rings.
Ding, ding, ding!
The match is on.
Lily’s eyes grow wide as I dip my hands into a small platter of oil. Hell yeah, we’re doing this slippery and slick, and my first goal is to get her lubed up all over so that those curves gleam under the spotlight.
“Come here,” I say, as the guys draw closer, leaning forwards in their chairs. “Come to Daddy.”
She’s still like a doe, eyes wide, breasts heaving.
“Come here,” I command again, and slowly, we begin to circle each other.
Oh, she’s good. Some girls can’t even move when they’re brought into the ring, they’re so frightened. But Lily’s a natural, and she’s agile on her feet, thinking like a champion. She steps right and then left, her fists slightly raised, hands open like I taught her. Good girl.
Slowly, I circle her, my muscled body already oiled and gleaming from my pre-fight routine. Coconut oil is my favorite but recently, I’ve been using some all-natural stuff that has no scent. Lily’s eyes grow wide, seeing my hands slick and ready, the palms gleaming.
“Shaft,” she pants slightly, big boobs heaving. “Shaft.”
I nod, my eyes gleaming.
“Let’s wrestle sweetheart. Let’s give ‘em something to remember.”
But before I’ve even finished the sentence, she’s feinted left. The brunette ducks towards my right side, head down, trying to grab my calf and bring me down.
Oof! Shit, that was close.
I dance backwards and out of her grasp.
“Sweetheart, you’re aggressive, aren’t you? I didn’t expect that,” is my low murmur.
Meanwhile, behind me, one of my buddies calls out.
“She almost got you there, Shafty! You better be careful!”
Fuck you, Roman. You’re no better when you’re in the ring. But growling, I lower my head, eyes determined. Without any hesitation, I lunge forwards, seizing Lily around that narrow waist in an effort to pin her to the mat.
But it doesn’t work. My hands are so slippery from goop that she squirms right out of my grasp, oily handprints leaving slick tracks on her waist. Oh shit, her skin looks beautiful like that and I desperately want to get all of her lubed up and ready. But instead, my little girl has taken “Float like a butterfly and sting like a bee” literally because she’s light on her feet, staring at my core as I advance once more.
“Slowly sweetheart,” is my soothing murmur. “We’ll go about this the right way.”
But instead, she grabs my arm in a swift movement and twists it behind my torso until it’s pulled back and immobile. What the fuck? How can this tiny girl be showing me who’s boss in the ring?
A guy in the front row caws happily.
“Yo yo yo, you’re getting’ your ass beat Shaft!”
Shut up. Just shut the fuck up. And using pure muscle, I lean forwards, my arm still in Lily’s grasp. She’s literally lifted off her feet from the effort and with a sudden whump! I slam her to the mat in front of me, the girl landing on her back with a surprised gasp.
But before she can scramble to her feet, I’m on her once more, my hands all over those soft limbs.
“Fuck it,” I say hoarsely. “I’m getting you oiled up.”
Because that’s the first rule of Battle Bang. Obviously, the guys are about a hundred pounds more than our opponents. So to prolong the match, the first step is to oil up the females in the ring, and I’m doing that right now.
This time, I’m able to get big handfuls of boobie, trailing my fingers over her nipples so that they gleam, the sides of her girls getting slick and oily. Perfect. She’s struggling beneath me, gasping slightly as her feet kick.
“No kicking,” I say roughly. “Hold still.”
But does she listen? Hell no. This is a wrestling match and Lily’s not gonna go down easy. So she kicks again, one small foot landing on my shin and it fucking hurts. A shaft of pain lances up my leg and I let go involuntarily with an agonized roar.
That’s all she needs. The brunette manages to scramble away and get to her feet once more, breasts heaving. At least they’re good and oiled now. But I’m a tough motherfucker and I’m not giving up.
Without any hesitation, I charge at her from below. I don’t even bother to stand this time. Instead, one moment I’m cradling my shin and then the next, I’m lunging at her from across the mat. My arms circle her legs and she lands on her rump this time with a breathless oof!
“That’s it,” I growl, this time running my hands up and down those shapely calves and thighs. “Hold still as I get you oiled up.”
Lily’s eyes open wide as her thighs part imperceptibly. But then she gets a hold of her wits again and starts trying to roll away from me.
“Careful sweetie,” I grunt. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
She struggles even harder now as my hands run up and down those shapely legs toned from hours in the gym.
“Let me go,” she gasps.
“Naw sweetheart. This isn’t how the game works. I get you oiled up, we wrestle, and then there’s the climax. Remember?
” I pant. “Just like we talked about.”
I’m practically on the lower half of her body now, her legs pinned beneath my torso. And with swift, smooth strokes, I make sure to get the oil all over her thighs, moving up over those hips to caress her narrow waist.
“Perfect, sweetheart,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’ve got you in the perfect position for this.”
And with one swift movement, I’ve ripped that g-string right off. It didn’t take much, to be honest. That thing couldn’t have been more than a piece of fabric on floss because it snapped in my hand with no resistance, giving up my best girl.
And shit, but Lily’s beautiful underneath. Those fat pink lips are engorged, with the sweet aroma of female arousal rising from her cunt.
“Oh yeah, you want it, don’t you? You’re dying to be a part of Battle Bang.”
Her mouth opens in protest but then snaps shut because suddenly, one of the guys calls from the audience.
“Don’t forget to lube her up where it counts! It’s one of the best parts.”
Don’t worry motherfucker, I wasn’t going to forget. Because it’s not just one of your favorite parts, but one of mine as well. So my hands slide down from her waist, slippery and agile. And within moments, they’re stroking over her pussy, giving it the rub.
“Oh!” she gasps, looking at me with wild eyes while still pinned to the mat. “Oh god!”
“Oh god is right,” comes my rasp. “But sweetheart, it gets even better.” I move her thighs apart slightly, still keeping them pinned beneath my body weight. And slowly, my hands slide over her pussy once more, this time stopping to circle her clit a few times. The niggle gets her good and aroused, and this time the brunette bucks her hips while squealing.
But to no avail. I’m massive and literally double Lily’s weight. So she’s pinned in place as I get that pussy lubed. The folds are soft and plush, her female nectar running so hard that frankly, she doesn’t need the extra oil. But hey, these are the rules of Battle Bang, and who am I to question them?
Claiming His Virgin In the Ring: The Filthy Wrestling Club Page 7
