tagMind ControlCountermove Ch. 10

Countermove Ch. 10


Summary so far:

Day 1: Onyx vs. Tyger- Onyx loses for the first time ever and pays the price.

Day 2: Onyx vs. Jewel- Onyx defeats Jewel to stay alive in the tournament but realizes she is slowly changing into a bimbo.

Day 3: Onyx vs. Chaos- Onyx defeats Chaos to make it to the final 4 but discovers she has been set up.

Interlude: Onyx travels to Darkview to investigate Tyger.

Interlude- part 2: Onyx learns more about Tyger while coming to terms with being pierced and tattooed.

Interlude- part 3: Onyx trains under Diane.

Day 4: Onyx vs. Fury- Onyx defeats Fury. Viper agrees to give Onyx one hour of training.

Day 5- part 1: Onyx trains under Viper.

Day 5- part 2: Onyx buys a new bra. Onyx "defeats" Dominatrix to make it to the championship match.



"Hey, bimbo, wake up."

Bite me, I thought. "No. Go 'way. I'm sleeping."

A tug on one of my nipple rings forced me to open one eye and glare at Diane, my evil ex-bimbo and pussy licker and present evil mentor.

"Time to wake up, bimbo," she said.

I pushed her hand away and closed my eyes again. "Go 'way! Don't you have, wike, orphans to beat up or something? I'm sleeping!"

I heard rustling and suddenly Diane's weight was sitting on my substantial chest. My eyes popped open just in time to receive Diane's bare pussy pressed against my mouth.

"Mmmmpphh...!" I said.

"I'm sure you know what to do, bimbo," said Diane. "My morning just got better."

"Mmmmpphh!" I said.

"I know, bimbo," said Diane, "But you owe me for three years of forced service and you're making a down payment. Now."

Diane looked down her belly at me, my eyes the only visible part above her pussy. Thinking of Diane as Bambi had become nearly impossible since she had severed my influence on her mind by forcibly tattooing "Bimbo" on my ass. The gypsy-inked tattoo had properties preventing me from using my powers on her in any way. Diane had been champion when I arrived three years ago and she knew far more about wrestling than I did, so I couldn't even kick her ass. Diane was one of the few people I couldn't bully.

As if to punctuate that thought, Diane began to grind her pussy against my mouth. "Let's go, bimbo. I'm not getting off until I get off."

I didn't really have a choice and lack of air was becoming an issue. I slid my tongue into her heated slit and was rewarded with a hip wriggle that allowed me a breath. My arms were pinned beneath her knees, so I used my tongue to locate her clit. After finding it I began to lap at it with my tongue, then wrapped my swelled lips around it in an erotic kiss. I could feel her juices coating my cheeks but I continued to lick and suck at her button as she wriggled her hips in growing heat.

I don't know if it was Diane's scent or her heated responses to my licking but I suddenly realized I was becoming embarrassingly aroused. I was servicing with my mouth like a good plaything and my body was trying to reward me. I knew what was happening but I couldn't stop it. Diane shifted slightly, freeing my arms, so I slid my hands under her and cupped her rounded ass. I worked her clit with my lips and tongue until her back arched and with a sudden moan she came, wriggling and squirming on top of me. I licked through her climax until at last, with a final shudder, she slid off my chest and allowed me to sit up.

My cheeks were bright red and covered with Diane's juices, so I slipped off to the bathroom to discreetly clean up. I emerged freshly showered a short time later, trying to disregard just how aroused I was. Diane's smirk followed me around the room, distracting me as I dressed. I put on an adorable rose-colored halter-top and a flippy red mini-skirt and completed the outfit with a cute pair of strappy four-inch high heels.

We finished our coffee and headed down to Marty's office. My heels click-clacked as we made our way to his door. Just for old-times sake I walked in without knocking.

Marty jumped when I entered, then rolled his eyes. "Geez, Shannon, why can't you knock like everyone else?"

I giggled. "I'm just, wike, keeping you on your toes and stuff, you know?" I fumed inside. What came out of my mouth these days bore almost no resemblance to what I was actually trying to say.

"I don't need to be on my toes! My toes are fine!"

I giggled. "Awwwww, if I don't do it, who will?"

To my surprise, Marty actually looked away and mumbled, "I hope I don't find out," which was sweet, considering he was the one who had gotten me into this mess in the first place.

You got yourself in this mess, girl, said a voice in my head. I sighed, realizing the voice was right. I was getting wiser too late. I looked back to Marty.

"I've been, wike, totally distracted and stuff. How are the receipts and stuff from the tournament doing?" I asked.

Marty cringed and turned down the radio slightly. "Aw, geez, Shannon, I know it's not your fault, but do you have any idea how hard it is to talk business with you when you're talking like a frickin' space cadet?"

I actually giggled at Marty's discomfort. "Of course I know, silly! Why do you think I do it?" Besides not being able to stop for the life of me?

"To drive me fuckin' bonkers?"

I giggled. "Well, that too, wike."

He grunted and shuffled some papers. "Alright, here are the numbers for the entire tournament. That doesn't include the advance tickets sold for tonight, so there's more coming."

I nodded. "Totally awesome! Now let me see the other book."

"Awww, Shannon, I wouldn't try to..."

"Wike, now, buster!" Did he really think I had forgotten that he was a weasel of the highest magnitude?

Grumbling, he pulled out a book from some hidden drawer and grudgingly handed it to me. I flipped through it (at least, as well as my well-manicured nails would let me) and was surprised to find that nearly all the numbers were a perfect match.

I squealed in delight. "Why, Marty! You've kept the numbers for, wike, almost ten days and you didn't twy to cheat me? You've become, wike, a lesser weasel!"

Marty shuffled some more papers. "Yeah, yeah, not so loud. I got a rep to uphold, ya know? Anyway, the far column shows your forty percent cut."

I looked at the column. Lots of large numbers. But the problem was those numbers represented a lot of what the old me was doing wrong. I sighed again. This was going to hurt...but...

"Why don't we, wike, cut that down to, let's say, twenty percent." I said.

There was a moment of incredulous silence. Then Marty said, "Shannon? You do know that twenty is less than forty, right...?"

I giggled. "Yes, I know that, silly!"

"Tyger didn't make you goofy, did she?"


He looked at me with something- respect?- in his eyes, then nodded. "Alright, twenty, then. And Diane has kinda sorta helped a little...I suppose I should give her five percent of the..."

"You mean ten percent, wight?" I said.

Marty grumbled and shifted uncomfortably- getting him in the wallet always had that effect on him- but he finally nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I meant ten percent."

Diane finally spoke. "Thank you, Marty."

I opened my mouth to reply but nothing came out as I felt a fluid wave flow through my brain. I didn't worry about it, however, as I suddenly realized a very hot song was playing on the radio behind Marty's desk.

"Oh! Awesome! Turn that up!" I squealed. I jumped out of my chair, put my arms over my head and began to wriggle my hips as the words to "Touch Myself" filled the room. I did a half spin, then strutted across the office. I turned so my back was facing my audience, then slipped off my halter-top and tossed it to an open-jawed Marty. My firm heavy boobs jiggled as I shook my ass to the beat. I spun and made a show of sliding my thong over my hips and down my thighs. I twirled my panties on a fingertip for a moment before tossing them to a stunned Diane. I cross-stepped until I was standing in front of Diane, then turned around and gave my own ass a slap on my "Bimbo" tattoo. I bent over slowly until I was looking at Diane from between my knees, my skirt riding high on my bare bottom. I stood and gave a twirl so my skirt wind-milled above my waist, then high kicked and dropped into a split. I spun out of the split, arched my back, kicked again and then got to my feet.

I slipped off my skirt and kicked it into the corner. Now naked, I strutted over to Diane and straddled her lap, facing her. I put my hands behind my head and arched my back, pressing my boobs against hers. I gazed at Diane and ran my tongue across my upper lip, my eyes half-lidded, my hips making all sorts of lewd promises for the small price of a couple dollars in my garter belt...

Suddenly I was back in the office with the radio playing. I got off Diane's lap with a red-faced apology and quickly gathered my clothes. Time bomb, my battered psyche told me. Viper had warned me that Tyger had left a few gifts in my mind.

Tyger. That bitch.

A few hours later Diane returned and reported what I had feared. Tyger had indeed left several time bombs planted in my head. The spontaneous strip dance was only one of them. I had already discovered another when I had masturbated openly during my afternoon workout. Two other girls had been working out in the gym at the same time I was when that embarrassing situation occurred. They had watched in fascination as my fingers worked my clit without thought to my surroundings. Afterward I realized that one of the girls- a waitress with a blonde bob that looked familiar- had her thumb in her mouth the entire time. She had smirked openly at my blush.

"How did you get Viper to talk to you?" I asked.

"It must have been my overwhelming charm," said Diane. "There is some good news, however."


"Yeah," she said, "Most of the time bombs are triggered to go off when you lose the championship match."

I nodded. "Obviously there is, wike, some definition of good news that I'm not familiar with."

Diane shook her head. "Oh, you dense bimbo. You know how to make shields now to protect yourself from Tyger, but Tyger has already planted the time bombs in your head and your shields can't stop that. Viper said there are two sets of time bombs...one set tied to losing the match, and another set tied to you running away. Showing up will defuse the bombs based on your running away...the other set can only be defused by you beating Tyger."

I giggled, then bit my lower lip. "So, all the changes Tyger is going to make to me are tied to these time bombs in my head?"

Diane shook her head. "No. Changes of that magnitude will still have to come from Tyger herself. The time bombs are more for flashes...such as a spontaneous strip dance. But one of the time bombs is primed to disrupt any shields you may try to create. Apparently Tyger took into account the possibility someone may teach you shields."

"Soooo...what are you saying?"

Diane looked at me sympathetically. "You have to win, bimbo. If you lose the match, you belong to Tyger. Period."

The arena was packed. The sound and the smells were overwhelming, taking on an almost physical presence. The tournament championship match was tonight and everybody that could afford a ticket was here. Word had quietly spread that this wasn't an ordinary match and in Chrystal Heights that kind of hype usually means something interesting will happen. I stood in front of the full mirror in the locker room, gazing at Tyger's work while Diane tied my hair back. My hair was full and had grown down to my waist. It was gorgeous, but this mass of hair certainly wouldn't work for a wrestling match. The weight from a ponytail was a bit prohibitive so Diane was arranging my blonde mass into two matching pigtails, high on my head so I wouldn't inadvertently sit on them when on the mat. I suspected that Diane was also doing it because it was unbearably adorable but I couldn't fault her logic, so I let her do it. Okay, "let" was a relative description, since Diane was pretty much doing whatever she wanted with me these days.

My body bore little resemblance to what it had been two weeks ago. Then I had been a sleek, dark-haired athlete. Now I was a creature of heated need with lush curves and erotic promises. I was built for pleasure.

Diane finished the last pigtail and stepped back to study the effect critically. Finally she nodded in satisfaction. "That'll do."

I looked at the mirror. A bimbo stared back at me. "You didn't have to make it that cute. I'm not twying to impwess anybody!"

Diane gave me a firm look. "Yes, I did. Until Tyger takes you, I am responsible for you and no bimbo of mine is going to go out there looking anything less than adorable."

That wasn't even subtle. I could already see that even if I got past Tyger I was going to have to deal with a very determined Diane. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing. Diane was preferable to Tyger, obviously, and she had strengths I hadn't realized. I was beginning to realize I had been lucky to hold onto her for the three years I had managed to.

"Knock knock," said Marty's voice. I turned to see Marty and Cruiser entering the locker room. They looked like the traditional odd couple...Marty, the soft bean-counting weasel and Cruiser, the leather-wearing effeminate macho man. Still, it worked and it had taken a little of the edge off Marty's at times grating personality.

Marty gave me a once-over. "Damn, Shannon, what a fucking rack you got."

Okay, maybe Cruiser had more work to do. Grrrrr.

Diane snickered and patted my rounded ass, just over my "Bimbo" tattoo. "She's all set," she said to Marty.

Marty nodded. "Good. She's on in five minutes."

Cruiser said, "This is so exciting! I hope you win, sweetie. Go out there and be fierce!"

I giggled at his earnestness. "Thanks, Cwuiser."

Marty said, "One more thing, Shannon. There's no time limit for the prize round. If you do win, you can do whatever you want to the bitch for as long as you want."

"Or her to me. Got it, Marty," I said.

He paused for a second, then said, "Nice bikini. Is this a new look for you?"

I giggled. "It's part of my stwategy."

He didn't look convinced. "Oh. Well, good luck."

"Thanks, Marty."

Marty and Cruiser left. I turned to Diane. "A hug for good luck?"

Diane looked surprised for a moment, then pulled me in and let me wrap my arms around her. She must have felt my trembling because she stroked my hair soothingly. "It's alright, sweetie. It will all be alright."

Finally I stepped back. Shit. I was getting emotional too. Damn that Tyger. "Sowwy," I said.

Diane laughed. "Don't worry, bimbo. I still don't like you, if that's what you're worried about."

I grinned in spite of myself.

I made my way to the ring through the cheers of the crowd.They had adapted quickly to my new look and many whistles and catcalls could be heard over the cheers.

My appearance did have one new element. I had changed my black bikini for a hot pink bikini. Viper had said that I had the element of being underestimated on my side, and I wanted to make Tyger think I had fully integrated into bimbodom. Of course, the ridiculous color felt embarrassingly right, and Viper had told me to be what I was, so I wasn't sure which category this fell under.

I made sure my mental shields were firmly in place as I got into the ring. I could fight the best fight of my life, but it wouldn't matter if Tyger was able to get into my head. Satisfied they were set, I slipped between the ropes and walked to the center of the ring. Tyger was waiting for me.

The exotic gypsy was wearing her usual tiger-print bikini. Her cool smile was in place. We stood eye-to-eye. This is usually done just to give the audience a dramatic moment, but there was no mistaking the emotion emanating from this stare-down this time. The air practically crackled with tension.

Tyger made a show of looking me up and down. Then she said in her slightly accented voice, "I do such nice work. Are you ready to become Shani?"

I gave her a fierce look...well, as fierce a look as a bimbo can give, anyway. "Bwing it on, bitch."

Tyger laughed, a throaty exotic sound. "Defiant to the end. You are delicious, my little bimbo. I am going to enjoy the look of adoration on your face as I watch your intelligence just fade into the background. I will be your Mistress, but cock will be your master. You will live to please."

The referee stepped in then and sent us to our respective corners. I tried to quiet the butterflies in my belly as the announcer made the introductions.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The final match of the first annual Chrystal Heights Women's Wrestling Federation Tournament!"

"In this corner...at five feet, eight inches tall, weighing one hundred twenty-nine pounds...your hometown champion....Oooooooooonyx!"

"And her opponent...undefeated throughout the entire tournament...at five feet, nine inches tall, weighing one hundred twenty-six pounds...Tyyyyyyyger!"

The cheers were deafening. Chants of "On-yx! On-yx! On-yx!" could be heard, along with shouts of "Tyyyyyyyyyyy-ger!" The mat was vibrating in rhythm with the stomps.

The bell sounded. The hype was done. It was time to fight.

We met at center ring. Tyger had an almost casual air about her. I decided to change that. Without warning I swung my hand and slapped her straight across the face.

The crowd gasped. Tyger took two steps backward, her hand on her cheek, flushed with anger. The referee jumped in, then turned to me. "Warning for Onyx."

That was actually nice of the referee. I had expected to lose my top. Face striking was against the rules. The referee didn't like Tyger either, apparently. Maybe he even knew what I was trying to do.

Tyger advanced on me, her anger apparent. As much as I hated her, the point of the slap was to get Tyger mad. She wasn't as good when she was angry.

The games were over and the match was on. We grappled for a moment, then Tyger stepped back and elbowed me in the boobs. My arms flew up instinctively and Tyger leaped and dropkicked me. I stumbled backward several steps and then tumbled onto my ass. Tyger's full weight landed on me then and slammed me to the mat. I felt Tyger's hand press against my pussy and I tried to close my legs, but it was too late. I was too breathless to stop her and a bolt of pleasure shot through me. I tried to wriggle free and too late realized the referee had dropped and slapped the mat three times. Tyger had distracted me and I was a pin behind already.

I handed the referee my top. Tyger looked at my huge bare boobs and smiled infuriatingly. The bell sounded and immediately we began to grapple again. My strength just wasn't what it used to be and I could feel Tyger getting the advantage.

Flow around the obstacles said Diane's voice. Suddenly I released my hold on Tyger's shoulders. The sudden shift of resistance set her off-balance. I whirled around, letting her fall forward onto her belly on the mat. Then I straddled her lower back and gripped her hair, pulling back. With my free hand I began to smack her ass. The crowd counted out loud as I spanked her.

"One...! Two...! Three...! Four...!"

Furious, she rolled to the side, sending me tumbling. She got to her feet and walked over to where I lay, apparently dazed. She reached down to grab me but I came to life, reaching up and grabbing her wrist. I pulled down so she hit the mat face first, then rolled around and cradled her, her shoulders on the ground, her ass in the air. The referee slapped the mat three times and the crowd went berserk.

Tyger stalked away and stripped off her top, giving it to the referee. The crowd whistled appreciatively. Then she turned and glared at me. I was getting to her.

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