tagMind ControlCountermove Ch. 01

Countermove Ch. 01


Okay, to wrestlers and wrestling purists please accept my apologies for any mistakes or inaccuracies in this story. I am not a wrestler and can only work through visualization so I'm sure there are many glaring deficiencies.

To wrestlers and wrestling purists (and anyone else) who is under the age of 18, along with anyone offended by stories of a sexual nature or containing sexual situations or offended by the idea of mind control in any fashion, please do not read this story.

This story takes place in the fictional town of Chrystal Heights. This is not significant in any way other than I hope to continue creating stories involving this town.

The people and events in this story are fictional and do not represent anyone or anything from real life.

Synopsis: Shannon dominates her wrestling federation through a combination of kick-ass-iveness and mental persuasion, and her colleagues will attest that losing to Shannon usually means losing more than just the match. But what happens when Shannon faces an opponent with the same abilities?


The redhead landed on her back with a thud that shook the ring and brought the beer-soaked crowd to its feet. It was an impressive reversal and the redhead, visibly dazed, obviously hadn't been expecting it. Her dark-haired opponent kneeled down and cradled the redhead's legs, pinning her shoulders to the ground. The referee went to a knee and slapped the mat in 3 quick bursts, signaling a successful pin.

The crowd burst into a raucous cheer. They knew what would happen next.

The redhead- her name was Debbie, better known as Wildfire- shook her head as if to clear it, then slowly got to her feet. Her emerald green bikini complemented her lovely green eyes and contrasted nicely with her fiery red hair. The referee had already turned to her with his hand out knowing, as the crowd did, what the pin signified. Debbie sighed and untied the top of her bikini, slipping it off and handing it to the referee. Her now bare C-cup breasts were not unimpressive and they jiggled as the girl made her way back to the center of the ring to the cheers and catcalls of the crowd. She assumed her position opposite her opponent and prepared to resume the match. This was part of what drew the hundreds of spectators that filled the auditorium to standing room only- losing her top did not mean the end of the match. It was only the beginning.

Her opponent was Shannon, also known as Onyx, and she moved with an athletic grace and economy of motion that was befitting for the defending champion 3 years running. Shannon wore a black bikini that displayed her athletic body admirably. Everyone yearned to see what was underneath, but that almost never happened. That was why she was champion.

Debbie circled Shannon now, hands moving, searching for an opening. She reached in and gripped Shannon's wrist, attempting to control the champion's arm. To Debbie's dismay Shannon grabbed her wrist with her free hand, twisted around and flipped Debbie over her shoulder so that she once again slammed against the mat on her back with a thud. She felt Shannon twist her wrist then, forcing her to roll to her belly, and then Shannon was straddling her lower back but yanking both of Debbie's arms up above her head. She felt Shannon wrap her arms around Debbie's upper arms, pinning them above her head, and then Shannon simply leaned back, forcing Debbie's bared upper body to be freely revealed to the cheers of the crowd. Arms pinned above her head and stomach muscles stretched painfully, Debbie could only grit her teeth as the referee timed the hold. After an eternity the referee finally yelled, "Break! Submission hold pin! Black's point!"

Again Debbie got to her feet, the referee already standing with his hand out. Cheeks flaming, Debbie slid the bottom of her bikini over her hips and down her thighs, her bare feet finally stepping out of the bottoms. Her toenails were painted red. Bimbo red. She picked up her bikini bottom and handed it to the referee, blushing as she stood naked before the cheering crowd. Her sex was shaven completely smooth.

As she got into position she quickly perused her options. Wrestling naked was never easy, and wrestling Shannon- even when dressed- was even tougher. She couldn't afford another pin- that would mean the end of the match- so she needed a plan. Of course, Shannon would be expecting a trick, but what if she went with a classic hold instead? Buoyed by her plan, she launched herself at Shannon, knocking her to the mat. Moving quickly, she planted her foot between Shannon's thighs, grabbed the champion's ankle and twisted, then scissored her own leg over Shannon's now pinned ankle in a classic figure 4 leg lock. She felt a rush of exultation as she felt her legs take hold and she gripped with all her strength. But something was wrong. Too late she realized that she had been set up- Shannon had already begun the countermove by rolling to her side and then to her stomach. Debbie, now on her belly as well, felt the pressure shift and suddenly the pain in her locked legs was overwhelming. She gasped, eyes wide, and began squealing "Submit! Submit! I submit!" The referee was already spreading his flattened palms, indicating a submission and end of match. The MC announced into the microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen....the winner by submission....Onyx!"

And just like that the match was over. But only the match. The fun was just beginning.

Her legs finally released, Debbie stretched her limbs out tentatively. They seemed to be in working order. And that was good given that Shannon already stood over her with a thick strap-on toy locked to her hips. Debbie bit her lower lip nervously. She suspected this wasn't going to go well for her.

Shannon reached out and gripped Debbie's hair, pulling the redhead to her knees. Debbie blushed but wrapped her lips around that thick toy and began to slide her mouth up and down the shaft. Debbie, of course, had no choice- the winner of a match always got to choose how the loser got fucked. Her lips sealed tightly around the shaft, she glanced up at Shannon's eyes, hoping to receive a rare moment of mercy from Shannon. But Shannon's eyes held hers and suddenly Debbie couldn't look away. Something inside Debbie's head shifted fluidly and all Debbie could think about was sucking cock. Yes...she had to suck cock. Tonight. No, sooner. Damn, she needed a cock in her mouth. And cum. In her belly. Yes....sweet cum. Soon. Perhaps Marty would let her....


I finished my shower and walked to my locker as I towel-dried my black hair. I had to give Debbie credit for balls. That last maneuver would probably have worked against a less experienced wrestler. Still, Debbie should have known better than to try that shit with me. I know all the counter-moves. All of them. I can reverse anything thrown at me and Debbie knows that. That's why she now needed to suck cock like a slut in heat. I don't like being insulted. Still, I did respect her balls, so I had limited her cock-sucking obsession to a week.

I studied my 23 year-old body in the mirror for a moment before I got dressed. Black hair just past my tanned shoulders. Slim and athletic. Smallish B-cup breasts. Trimmed pubic hair. Just the way I liked it. None of those bimbo curves on me, thank you very much. That was for the losers.

I pulled on jeans and a black tank top and glanced around the locker room. Some of the other girls were in various stages of undress but I grinned at one thing they all had in common. Every one of them was shaved smooth. The only one who had any pussy hair was me- only me. A trademark of mine, if you will. When you lost to me you lost on several levels. Every girl also sported bimbo red fingernails and toenails as well, simply because I enjoyed making them look girly whether they liked it or not. Petty? Well, yes, but there you are. I don't apologize for it.

After I finished dressing, I walked down the hall and opened the door to Marty's office. No, I didn't knock, so don't bother asking. As I walked inside I could see Marty leaning back in his office chair, mouth open as a mass of red hair bobbed between his thighs. Debbie already at work, no doubt. I just crossed my arms and leaned against a file cabinet to wait.

I didn't have to wait long. I heard a muffled squeal of pleasure from under the desk- Debbie getting a mouthful, I surmised- and Marty started to shake soundlessly. This went on for several seconds and I could swear I heard Debbie slurping and gulping. Marty then sat back, obviously breathless, and finally took in my presence.

He scowled and said, "Jeez, Shannon, couldn't you have waited 'til I was finished to come barging in here?"

Marty was the manager of the wrestling show. Or, if you asked Marty, he was the president of our wrestling federation. You may have never met Marty, but if you've ever bought a car from a used car lot then you know him. He was barely my height- 5'8"- and he was a bit pudgy. Not really fat, but soft. His thin hair was just starting to recede and he had a grubby little mustache. He was a bit of a weasel, but not really a bad guy as long as you kept an eye on him. He had some brains, too. Not as much as he thought he did, but he could be clever at times. The wrestling show had been his idea, after all, and he was making good money from it. Well, we were making good money from it. That was the reason I was here to see him now.

I grinned at his comment. He was feeling too good from his blowjob to put any real heat into his words. Debbie stood up and wiped at her mouth self-consciously, cheeks blazing, and I only gave her a slight smirk as she made her way around the desk and passed me without a word. I waited until Debbie closed the door behind her before I turned back to Marty.

"You're welcome," I said.

He grunted. "Part of the deal. You hold me up for 30% of the gate, so I deserve a little side action from your...." He waved his hand in a vague manner. "...whatever it is you do."

"Mental persuasion, Marty," I explained yet again. It wasn't accurate, but it didn't matter. He had never been able to fully understand what it was I could do. Hell, I had no real idea what it was I did, but I wasn't going to let *him* know that. "I can mentally see their mind with my own and I can change their urges and drives and habits and even their orientation. I'm not adding anything, just rearranging what they already have."

He hitched up his pants and pulled up his zipper. "Yeah, but you give 'em blonde hair and big tits and stuff."

I gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, but I'm not growing them or changing their hair color myself. I'm just changing the cells and DNA that determine that stuff. No girls have ever left the ring with double D's after a match with me or suddenly had blonde hair. No, they went home and over the next week or so those changes took place. So I'm not giving them big tits; their body is growing big tits."

He pulled out a drawer and took out a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Jeez, you talk like a lawyer. If you're giving 'em big tits, just say you gave 'em big tits. Don't try to baffle me with that science shit."

I grinned at Marty's grumbling. His baffle remark was a reflection of his motto, "If you can't dazzle 'em with brilliance, baffle 'em with bullshit," and it was an accurate description of how he did business. He didn't dazzle all that often, but he could baffle with the best of them.

"Besides," I said with exaggerated patience, "I don't send them *all* home like that."

"No," he agreed, "Sometimes you do worse. Like that chick you made piss herself last week. In the ring."

I shrugged. "She kept calling me 'Little girl'. She looked like the little girl to me when she left." She wouldn't have bladder control for about a year either, but Marty didn't know about that part. No real point in telling him.

"And the bitch you made play with herself last month? In the ring?"

I shrugged again. "She called me a cunt. I didn't appreciate it." Marty hadn't been real happy about that one. I was still undefeated after 3 years and Marty had trouble setting up matches for me against the other girls because I had beaten them all several times. Losing against me cost each of them their pussy hair and they all had the aforementioned bimbo red fingernails and toenails. They didn't know how but they all knew I had done something to them to make them do it. Not that it mattered that they knew- they couldn't do anything about it and they would continue to shave themselves and paint their nails until I let them stop. Still, it had created match-up problems for Marty because he couldn't market his best wrestler if he didn't have opponents for her. He finally solved the problem in two ways- one, every girl was required to wrestle against me in turns, one per night on an alternating basis, and two, Marty opened up audience participation night. Any woman in the audience could face me for a potential five thousand dollar prize. Like I said, occasionally Marty came up with good ideas. Many had tried their luck but no one had collected the prize yet. It was this last idea that had really started packing the house lately; everyone wanted to see a non-professional humiliated in the ring after losing to me. Still, making that bitch finger herself in the ring had shook up the crowd; there were no more volunteers to fight me that night and Marty had worried- needlessly, in my opinion- about the effect it could have on future attendance. He always worried about the business angle.

"You're getting wild, Shannon. You're losing perspective. You're supposed to keep a low profile, remember? You want everyone to know what you can do? And what if you get too overconfident and lose a match? Your mystique ends once you lose, you know. And your 30% bank from the gate doesn't make you much if no one's paying to get in, does it?"

I laughed out loud. "Lose? Me? You worry too much, Marty. That's not gonna happen. And that 30% is why I'm here now. The crowds are getting bigger and you know damn well I'm the reason they're here. I want 40% now. And a quarter of the profits from the concession stands. And I mean all the concession stands....that includes the beer and souvenir stand as well."

Well, I have to say Marty couldn't have looked more surprised if I had hit him in the face with a wet cat. He actually sputtered for several seconds before he could speak. "40%?!? A quarter of the concessions?!? Are you out of your fucking mind?!?" he screamed.

I looked at him calmly. "This place is filling up every night, Marty. You're not gonna go broke. You're making a bunch of money off me and I just want my cut, that's all."

He screamed again. "But 40%?!? And a quarter of the concessions?!? That's fucking highway robbery!"

"No, it's not, Marty," Then I narrowed my eyes and made my voice hard. "And stop screaming at me. Now."

He opened his mouth to scream again, then apparently changed his mind. Instead his voice took on a wheedling note. "Aw, come on, Shannon, don't be like that. We've worked together now for 3 years. I've always treated you fair. I've got people I gotta report to, you know that; I can't just give you any fuck...um, anything you want without checking with them first!"

I spread my hands, palms down, like a referee indicating end of match. "This conversation is finished, Marty. 40% and a quarter of the concessions. That's a statement, not a discussion question. I already know you keep two sets of books so that the people you report to don't really know how much comes in, so quit trying to bullshit me, okay? And Marty...I have a good idea how much comes in, so don't try to play games with the numbers on me or you might find yourself with blonde hair and big tits giving 5 dollar blowjobs...capice?"

I grabbed the latina's bare hips as I pressed the strap-on toy into her tight ass. Conchita was a stuck-up little wench who had insisted she was going to hurt me, so I decided taking her ass was justified. Her wrists were cuffed behind her back and she was on her knees, her cheek against the mat, her ass high in the air. I heard Conchita gasp as her rear opening suddenly relaxed and the dildo slid in. I could tell she hadn't had it like that before. I slid the dildo all the way inside her and held it there, my lower belly against her ass. She was squirming, her ass wriggling, and I pushed my mind into hers. I could see her mind before me. I pictured the changes I was going to implement and I just pushed them into her consciousness. Conchita's eyes widened as she felt the fluid changes taking place in her head- she knew I had just done something to her but she had no idea what it was, although she would in a week or so. She was going to shave her pussy as soon as she got home, and she would continue to shave every other day from now on. Since she was so arrogant, I fixed her with a nice little anal addiction- little Conchita was going to need to have a thick cock up her ass at least once every couple days or so. And to help her in that regard, I fixed it so that Conchita would find her bony little ass growing for the next few days. She was going to have a fully-rounded bubble butt in about a week, similar to the ones that several of my wrestling colleagues now sported. And of course bimbo red fingernails and toenails. Little Conchita was learning that telling me she was going to hurt me was really a bad idea.

I stroked my fake cock into her ass until my five minutes were up. I pulled out finally and unstrapped, handing the harness to the referee. I patted Conchita's bare ass and left the ring to the overwhelming cheers of the crowd. Everybody loves a winner.

Marty stopped me on my way to the locker room. It had been nearly a month since our discussion. He was still angry but he made sure I got my money every night. Every penny, too....he didn't seem to be skimming me at all. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign, since I didn't think Marty knew how to give someone else money without skimming it in some way, but he wasn't stupid, either. He knew damn well what would happen if I caught him cheating me.

He nodded to me. "Nice match. You even gave it to the little chica in the ass. Not bad."

I nodded. "What do you need, Marty?"

He held up his hands. "Hey, just trying to be friendly, okay? Yeah, I'm still pissed about the money, but it's done, alright? You were kinda right anyway, tell ya the truth. You are filling up this joint every night, so I can't complain."

My eyes narrowed slightly. Marty was laying it on just a bit too thick. "Alright, Marty, what are you up to?"

His expression pleaded innocence. "Why do I have to be up to something? Jeez...." He shook his head at his perceived injustice. "The shit I have to put up with, I'm going straight to Heaven. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know we've got a real moneymaker coming up. I just finished setting it up tonight, so it's official. We're gonna have a real tournament here next month. Only the best wrestlers, including you, are invited. Twenty thousand dollar first prize. 8 chicks. All championship-caliber. It's gonna be good shit. You in or not?"

Yes, my eyes widened just a bit. Twenty thousand dollars! Hell, yes, I was in. I didn't mind kicking 7 different asses to win twenty thousand dollars and I told him so.

He shook his head. "Don't get cocky, Shannon. These chicks ain't these local bitches. It ain't even like fighting Debbie or any of the girls here. These chicks are all champions. You could get your ass handed to you."

I laughed. Me, lose? Right.

I squirmed as Bambi licked my pussy. Her full golden blonde hair bobbed as her tongue snaked over my clit. Damn, she was good.

Bambi was the ring girl. She carried the sign with the round number on it around the ring between rounds. She was incredible- long legs, full E-sized boobs, rounded bubble butt, flat belly, wide curved hips and a head full of golden blonde hair. She had been the champion when I arrived here 3 years ago. Now she was the ring girl. And my personal pussy licker. To the victor goes the spoils, right?

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