Maximum Top Models

It pained her to give in, to march over and, eventually, strap that gorgeous belt around her waist again, only to shame that precious piece of metal and leather. This is a wrestling championship, dammit! It has no inherent connection to anything that Rhea does outside of pro wrestling rings but, unfortunately, what Maxxine Dupri wants...she gets. That fact was undisputed.

Rhea certainly wasn't arguing, at least not audibly. More than being a self-respecting champion, Rhea valued Maxxine's cock and the pleasure it omitted, something all of the wrestlers would probably laugh at and fake fun of if they knew. They wouldn't understand though, nobody could truly understand how Rhea felt. These feelings that she can't ignore, no matter how many days pass. How, after every session, what should be a "breather period" away from all of this bottoming nonsense only leads to Maxxine invading her very thoughts until the next session. Nobody could truly understand her obsession except for her...and her Model Mistress.

"Good girl, that's it! I wanna see that ass!" Maxxine goaded as Rhea prepared to ride like the perfect backwards cowgirl. "Turn it-ooh good! Yep, turn that belt around so the camera, and your Model Mistress, can witness the shame you bring to it."

Rhea shook her head and did as instructed. Anything to please Maxxine.

"God, you're so pathetic, Rhea. To think, you're the one that so many have feared. It's so funny, to me. Just...just really take it in. Literally, hundreds of girls and guys would give up their right leg just to be dominated by you! People that don't even know that you practically used to dominate people for a living, wanted to be your plaything. Yet, here you are, completely and totally, my bitch. Isn't that ironic? How easily I made you my bitch?"

Maxxine emphasized her words with another slap to that bum, hoping to kickstart The Nightmare as she took her cock into her grasp. Rhea remained silent, waiting patiently for the bumming to commence again. After all of the crying and belt talk, Rhea was hoping to avoid any further extreme humiliation. But, apparently she forgot: in this little game of theirs, Maxxine makes the rules.

"Hello? Brawny Bimbo? I asked you a question. It's ironic how easily I made you my bitch, right?" Another slap, this time Rhea answering, "Yes, my Model Mistress," not because she meant it, but because she knew it was what Maxxine wanted to hear.

"So ironic. Easy too. I made this asshole mine so quickly. Just a few months and now, you can't live without me, can you? So, go ahead, Rhe. Go ahead and beg to ride my cock! Beg me for the privilege to bounce that big, grossly-fat ass on my dick!"

No hesitation necessary this time. Humiliating or not, Rhea Ripley had made her choice. "Please, may I ride your cock? Can I bounce my big, fat fucken arse on ya cock? Please, please, please let me ride you, Mistress!"

Steadying her camera, Maxxine ordered, "Do it, bitch! Put on a show for your Model Mistress! And, try to remember the golden rule, okay? The camera is always watching."

Rhea nodded, and reached back, taking that huge shaft into her hand, and lining it up with her bumhole. She took a deep breath and forcefully jammed that cock inside, letting off a soft, pathetic whimper as her hole was invaded, a sound Rhea couldn't imagine making, let alone for another woman. But, Maxxine wasn't just some random shiela, some nothing broad. Maxxine was her Model Mistress, the owner of her huge, disgustingly fat ass.

That huge, disgustingly fat ass found itself gobbling up more of Maxxine's cock, closing the distance between her big, pale cheeks and Maxx's tight, toned thighs, MTM's founder grinning wickedly as she filmed Rhea's performance. Mami took her time, her butthole showing that cock as much love as it could muster, before that special moment when, after several minutes of dragged-out stuffing, their skin collided, announcing to their audience of no-one that Rhea's bum had taken every inch once more.

With a hardy slap to that porcelain pair, Maxxine proclaimed, "There you go, Rhe-Rhe! You may be stupid, and uncoordinated and...well, just a terrible model in general. But, you really shine when you put this fat-fucking ass to use! Now throw it back. Throw it back, Mami." Another laugh, another smack to that rump, and another insulting speech from Maxxine Dupri as Rhea did as she was told, beginning to raise and lower her ass rhythmically.

"Hahahaha, God, that name's so ridiculous, isn't it? 'Mami'! What a joke! If anybody's the Mami around here, it's me! I'm your Mami, aren't I, Rhe-Rhe?"

"Y-You're my Mami!" Rhea boldly proclaimed as she threw her ass back intensely, the loud clapping of her huge butt slamming down into Maxx's lap echoing throughout the hotel room. "G-God, you're my Mami!"

"Fuck yeah I am! That's why I get to film, photograph, and fuck this ass whenever I want! On sight, bitch! On sight! Whenever and wherever, right?" Maxxine asked, struggling to stop herself from drooling, the combination of her own dominant-high and the sight of that big, fat ass commanding her field of vision making the moment almost as sensational for Dupri as it was for Ripley. Almost.

"Whenever and...God...wherever!" Rhea screamed, opting to work her hips a bit more on the way down and thus, doubling the intensity again. And as she continued to work her ass magic on that dick, a familiar feeling made its presence felt. The same feeling that she'd felt towards the end of every session with Maxxine. The same feeling she'd been craving since the last session.

"Wherever, bitch! Doesn't matter who's watching, right? Doesn't matter who's in attendance? Because, regardless, this ass is mine! Ahahaha! You're my fat-assed bitch, Rhea!"

"I'm ya fat-arsed bitch! I'm ya fat-arsed bitch wherever I am! At home! In the locker room! G-God, in the m-middle of the ring! I'd let ya bum me anywhere!"

"Let me?" Maxxine scoffed. "Ha, yeah, like it's your choice! I'll take and own my fuckhole whenever I please, and you'll gladly bend over for me and like it! Is that clear?"

"GOD YES!!!!" Rhea screamed as she reached her boiling point; this far in and this close to orgasm, Rhea was firing on all cylinders. She moved like a superhuman and her ass jiggled at near-light speed. The Nightmare was practically on autopilot by this point, blindly agreeing with anything and everything that Maxxine was saying, even if, with a bit more time to think, she might disagree with.

The Rhea Ripley that swaggered into the hotel room, title belt resting atop her broad shoulder and the current Rhea, mindless fuckpuppet wearing her belt around her waist, were the same person. They looked the same, they sounded the same; the only difference was their way of thinking. One carried insecurities and the other, didn't. That's it. And, while Rhea would likely live to regret everything she'd said and done since entering the room for...roughly, an hour or so after leaving, she'd soon find herself ready to pay an arm and a leg for another modeling gig.

Rinse and repeat, until you've taken the most physically imposing and dominant female wrestler in WWE history, and completely ruined her. For brief periods like right now, with Mami going to town on that dick, those two Rhea Ripleys became one in the same. No sarcasm, no flashes of fire and yes, admittedly, Rhea had shed that skin relatively early in the shoot, for the most part. But it was at her lowest, when she teetered on the edge of a mind-numbing climax, where Rhea truly looked broken, and when she begged for it, is when she appeared her most desperate.

"Ah fuck...ah fuck I'm gonna...M-Mistress, I gonna fucken cum!!!" Rhea screamed.

"You know the drill, bitch!" Maxxine reminded. "Beg for it! Beg your Model Mistress to let you cum like a fat-assed bitch! Do it, and while you're at it, go ahead and flex those big, useless muscles of yours too! Ooh yeah, show the camera that you're nothing but a delusional toughie, a fake, wannabe tough girl who loves cock up your fat bum! FUCKING GO, BITCH! DOUBLE-TIME!"

One more harsh slap to that huge bum sent Rhea spiraling into action. After all, she was mere seconds away from popping with or without permission; probably best to go ahead and get it. So, scrambling to put the last few functional brain cells she had left to use, Rhea raised her arms, which had been supporting her muscular body, and twisted them into a classic double-bicep pose. As she did so, The Nightmare offered another unapologetic round of begging.

"Let me c-cum! Please let this f-fake, wannabe tough girl cum! These muscles are j-just for show! I'm so weak! Soooo weak for my M-Model Mistress! I'm just a weak, fat-arsed bitch who wants to cccuuummmm-OOOOHHHHHH FFFFUUUUCCCCKKKKK!!!!!" Mid-soliloquy, Rhea was rewarded with a genuine, welcomed surprise. Maxxine went against her better judgment, and began pounding that asshole like a piece of meat again. But this time, with Rhea still throwing that ass back, Maxxine's thrusts were rougher and more brutal than ever before, and the effects were instantly felt.

"Fucking cum! FUCKING CUM! DO IT, RHEA!" DO IT!" Maxxine screamed, ensuring that her precious camcorder logged every juicy second of the footage. "Show the camera how good you cum! HOW YOU CUM LIKE A GOOD MAXIMUM TOP MODEL!"

With the pleasure more vivid and intense than anything Rhea had ever felt before, and permission finally in her possession, The Nightmare finally let go and came all over Maxxine's huge strap-on cock. Her muscles went numb, to the point where Rhea barely managed to keep her arms flexed, but she persisted, even as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her mind shut off. And, as it did, and one orgasm turned into two, and three, and...maybe a few more (Rhea wasn't really conscious by that point), one thought persisted: perhaps, she'd finally made some progress towards becoming Maxxine's favorite model. Maybe...just maybe.

The camera kept rolling, through Rhea's intense orgasms and the subsequent devastating anal buggery that pushed Mami into the greatest minute of her entire life. Pleasure stacked on pleasure and multiplied by ten times that pleasure, eventually brought her to an ultimate crescendo, knocking her out cold once her body couldn't take any more; even freak athletes like Rhea Ripley have their limits. It was only when The Nightmare finally collapsed forward, signaling a temporary end of her consciousness, that Maxxine finally stopped recording. The shoot was officially donezo.

Several minutes...hell, dozens of minutes passed before Rhea finally awoke from her slumber, her body sore and worn from her full-body anal workout. She sluggishly brought herself to a kneel, immediately noticing her Model Mistress lounging in a chair and scrolling through her phone, huge cock still equipped, dripping with a sweet nectar that brought Rhea's mouth to a drool. With barely any energy remaining in her typically powerful frame, Rhea crawled over to Maxxine and, upon arrival, attempted to take that shaft into her mouth. And, surprisingly, Maxxine didn't stop her.

Not a word was spoken between the two; Maxxine was preoccupied with her phone and Rhea made it very clear that she still had a score to settle, something to prove. Whether she could truly become Maxxine's favorite or not, she needed to show that she had what it takes to, eventually, get there. Which was why she tried, for a third time that night, to successfully deepthroat that cock. That pesky, fragile ego just couldn't be helped, could it.

"You're trying that again, huh?" Maxxine pointed out. Rhea ignored, inch after inch disappearing into her gullet. Before long, she'd swallowed it all; now just to keep it there.

Maxxine was happy to help in that department, lending a helping hand, literally, forcing Rhea's head down, leading to Maxx's most-reliable brawny bimbo coughing and hacking, just as she'd done during her other attempts. This time though, Rhea persisted. She may have pushed her gag reflex far past its limit, and sure, she hacked up enough spit to fill a full-size lube bottle, but Rhea Ripley kept that cock in her throat for tens of seconds. Nothing could stop her now. Except, you know, the plausibility of the situation.

Rhea made it roughly...twenty seconds...before finally calling it quits, and exchanging that cock for the crisp air conditioning. A mere twenty seconds was nothing for an experienced cock-sucker, but for Rhea Ripley, it was the biggest accomplishment of her life. Well...no, it was! It was bigger than winning the Women's World Championship! Bigger than winning the Royal Rumble from the number 1 spot! And thankfully, Maxxine saw it that way, too.

"Good job, bitch. You'll live up to your potential, I know it. But..." Maxxine's words trailed, just like the long strand of spit hanging from Rhea's lips. "You've still got a long way to go until you are worthy of being my favorite Maximum Top Model."

"I...I know," Rhea weakly admitted; Maxxine's eyes were still glued to her phone, as she seemed entranced by whatever she was looking at. "But I will. I'll prove that I'm the best model. Just wait! I'll prove that I deserve to be your favorite.

After a few tense, silent seconds, Maxxine raised an eyebrow and asked, "You like tattoos, don't you, Rhe-Rhe?"

"Y-Yeah...why?"

Maxxine smiled, leaned forward, and faced her phone screen outward, revealing the image that obstructed her focus. It was, essentially, another "apology" from Charlotte for her absence. A gorgeous high-definition pic of Flair's unfucked ass, plugged with the "QUEEN" encrusted booty cork that Maxxine had made especially for her. Yet somehow, something else was the star of the show. A freshly-inked tattoo on Charlotte's ass cheek which read "MTM". Branded like cattle, something that Maxxine sadly hadn't considered but now, couldn't get out of her head.

"You like tattoos, Rhe? You really want to show that you can be my favorite? Then, I think you need to make another appointment with your artist," Maxxine advised, and after a brief moment of consideration, Rhea sternly replied, "Yes, my Model Mistress."

After all, being a Maximum Top Model was what Rhea valued more than anything else. Sure, being the world champion and face of the Raw brand was great, but that wasn't built to last. Eventually, someone would beat her, and take her title. But, just like the ink that would soon grace her big, fat ass cheek, her status as an MTM would last forever.