Money Mella Makes Her Mark Ch. 03

Grinning with delight at how arrogant the great Sasha Banks actually was, Carmella suggested, "Well, I could do that, or...I could join in on the festivities. I mean, it is Legend's Night on Raw, right? Why not celebrate!"

"We are celebrating! Us. The A show people," Sasha reminded, blissfully oblivious to little Alexa pounding Mickie James' fat ass into nothingness, Trish's crazy stalker's arms and legs quaking and shaking just as much as her ridiculously juicy butt as the pleasure began to overwhelm her. Almost like she knew her time her was short, too, because just as Mickie began the cum, her apparent mistress was called out.

"Uhh, what about her?" Paige pointed out, either forgetting whose side she was on or just not caring, so deep was her focus on the Latin spinner attached to her cock, squeaking out cries of joy every time her cute little butt was throttled with all twelve inches of The Anti-Diva's man-made shaft, yet those cries could barely be heard over those of the illustrious Mickie James.

"Yeah, Sasha, what about her?" Mella cockily asked, doing her best to imitate Paige's English accent but ultimately failing to mask her thick Yankee twang.

Not wanting to look even dumber than she already did, Sasha reluctantly gave in. "Uhh...fine. You guys can stay, I guess. But Alexa, you need to leave! Take your bitch and go! We can't have that many SmackDown whores clogging up the middle!" As Mickie began to come down from her high, Alexa did as she was told, failing to put up a fight and leaving center stage, and eventually the locker room once she and James had redressed. Then, once they had, Sasha turned back to Carmella and reassured, "And you? Just stay out of my way, got it?"

"No, I don't 'got it', get it?" Carmella emphasized her words with cheeky little air quotes. "I need to be in your way so I can show everyone here that I'm the superior top between the two of us." Sasha promptly responded with a large, guttural belly laugh.

"Better than me? Ha, yeah, suuuuure you are. Hey Paige, I think we've got a comedian in the house! So, hun, care to elaborate on how you plan to show everyone how you're 'the superior top'?" Sasha, so wrapped up in her own overconfidence, was once again completely oblivious to the obviously evident.

"Well, I could just do my own thing, you know. Fuck one of these bitches..." she started, motioning to The Bellas. "But, I think it'd be more fun for us to have a little contest. Sort of a show before the show, if you know what I mean." Semi-understanding where things were headed, Sasha rolled her eyes and nodded her head as Carmella continued. "So, since tonight is Legend's Night, and we have a legend right there that I've been wanting for quite some time-"

"So, you're saying we share little AJ Lee?" Sasha cut in.

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" Mella loudly confirmed.

"Hmmm...lemme think...NOPE!" Sasha denied, cockily waving goodbye to The Fabulous Diva, turning away with a vibrant, purple hair flip. An answer that Carmella refused to accept, seizing The Boss's arm at the wrist and pulling the tiny woman back towards her. Then, realizing her move was a little out of line, Carmella lightened her grip, before letting go completely with a cheap, insincere smile.

"Don't be so hasty, Sasha. Why don't we let the little bitch decide, first?" Carmella suggested before turning her attention to AJ, who was still deeply impaled by Paige's cock. "AJ, hun, would you rather have three cocks or two? Huh, bitch? Power through all that dick in your ass and answer, slut!" A true master at her craft, Mella knew exactly how to word the question in order to get her way. For an apparently broken whore like AJ Lee, who's fallen far from her high standing since leaving WWE, the answer was obvious. The Black Widow was cock hungry, and while two would suffice, three was ideal.

Before AJ could answer, though, Sasha was quick to jump in with, "Who cares what that bitch wants? Her opinion doesn't mean shit!"

"True. But c'mon, Sash, this Legend's Night ™, this is big business! Let's honor those who paved the way by giving them the privilege of telling us how they'd like to be dishonored, yeah? We already kicked out Mickie, so we need to double-down on this cunt. I mean, really, what's the harm? Unless, of course, you think I'd show you up?" Mella knew that a little petty taunting would reel Banks in, hook, line, and sinker.

"Alright, hoe, fine! You wanna show your irrelevance that bad? Go for it! Whaddya say, AJ? You want three cocks tonight, bitch? You wanna get your little whore hole all fucked up by two real women and a joke wrestler who belongs in developmental? Tell us!" Unoriginal insult aside, Sasha pretty much asked the same question that Mella did. A question that AJ Lee had been desperate to answer.

"Oh-YES-fuck...YES PLEASE! Please give my slutty hole three dicks! Pass me around like a free-use slut!" AJ, at one time a confident, world-beating champion who wore her butterfly title just as proudly as she wore the Chuck Taylor's she became synonymous with, begged and pleaded to be destroyed beyond repair. Or, perhaps, she was already too damaged to fix to begin with? Carmella wasn't exactly sure how AJ had fallen so far. As far as she knew, Lee was never officially broken, and she certainly wasn't a buttslut to this dramatic degree. AJ was, for a time, the longest-reigning Divas Champion and, arguably, the alpha of all WWE female wrestlers.

Back in what many of the newer girls on the roster refer to as "The Dark Times", alphas kinda came and went at a moment's notice. AJ, Beth Phoenix, the now broken Nikki Bella, and several others all traded the alpha title back and forth, with things getting especially hairy after The Glamazon had been broken for good. Her record wasn't perfect, especially towards the end of her career, but all in all, AJ was the alpha for a time, no doubt about it. And, as far as Mella knew, alpha AJ was the AJ Lee that left the WWE just under a year and a half ago.

Rumors had run rampant about AJ's retirement. Why would a top-tier talent such as The Black Widow leave the industry in the middle of her prime? Some were cheeky enough to speculate that WWE's shoot-problems with her shoot-husband were enough to leave a sour taste in AJ's mouth. Others were pretty sure a serious injury was too much for her to overcome, and that she had no choice but to hang them up. But, those in WWE knew exactly why she left.

At the peak of her career, in the prime of her life, AJ made the grandest mistake one could do when they have everything to lose. She bet her ass, only for a night and to Nikki Bella of all people, but it didn't matter. AJ lost the bet, and though Nikki might've failed to get the job done, somebody had finished poor little AJ Lee off for good. Now she was broken, just as Mella and everyone else liked her. Just how AJ liked herself.

So many people had fucked her since she left, almost too many people to count. Losing that bet to Nikki wasn't the first time she gave up her ass, but something changed inside of her that night. A piece of her, something internally, was left severely damaged. Or, fixed, depending on who you ask. The person who broke her would definitely agree on that much, though it was still a mystery to all involved. Except for AJ, she knew all too well. Which is why she jumped at the chance to come back for Legend's Night.

Not to wrestle; God no, her days in the ring were long since done. Truthfully, AJ didn't even want to make an appearance. She came to meet up with the woman who broke her last year, a few months after she retired. A tall, blonde amazoness by the name of Charlotte Flair, who just before had beaten Nikki Bella for Divas title.

AJ caught wind of Charlotte's triumphant victory over her former rival and showed up backstage to congratulate the new champion. Needless to say, that night ended in a celebratory fashion, in more ways than one. What was just another conquest for Charlotte, another notch on her genetically superior belt, was an incredible, life-changing experience for The Black Widow. Surprisingly though, AJ didn't break right away; no, the official breaking came hours later, when her empty crater once referred to as an asshole ached for more attention from The Queen of WWE. When her cute little butthole was as wide around as her fist and about as empty as a helium balloon, and when that feeling made her absolutely sick. Hours after getting absolutely demolished by Charlotte Flair, AJ Lee realized that living without cock inside her ass wasn't a world she wanted to live in anymore.

Since then, getting a hold of tops to tear her rump apart was pretty difficult. Ideally, someone from the WWE, past or present, would do the deed, but finding someone who either wasn't busy or hadn't since broken was pretty hard to come by. Thank God for Paige, who'd mostly been on the sidelines nursing a neck injury. The Anti-Diva filled her asshole from time to time, but naturally, Paige's schedule was still a little too busy for AJ's needs. She tried some low-key, back-alley type dommes as well, people that she found on the internet, but bottoming to them never really gave the same thrill as bottoming to one of her former co-workers.

Hell, even bottoming to Paige had begun to grow stale. AJ needed more, preferably from the woman who broke her in the first place. But, since Charlotte was nowhere to be found, Sasha and Mella would easily suffice. They were clearly the most qualified, not counting Alexa, who obviously was still learning the ins and outs of being a true domme.

Nevertheless, the verdict was in. The three times Divas Champion was a hopeless anal-addicted whore, happy to present her holes to any and all comers. A present Mella planned to gleefully accept, taunting, "A free-use slut! Did you guys hear that? My, my, how the mighty have fallen, eh? And here I thought ol' AJ was one of the greats! A true trailblazer, uncredited for her contributions. Ahead of her time." The last of Carmella's words were spoken in an overly sarcastic tone, one which even managed to draw a reluctant grin from the most unhappy person in the room, Sasha Banks. "Talk about a let down, right, Banksy?"

"Banksy?" Sasha asked, so thrown off but Carmella's spontaneous new nickname that the question went completely unanswered.

"Yeah. Why not? It's uhh...it's cute," Carmella explained, shrugging her shoulders. "I could have a worse nickname for you, you know."

Not wanting to argue or fight any more than she had to, Sasha begrudgingly accepted the pet name. "Fair point," She agreed. "So, are we gonna fuck this bitch up or what?"

"You mean, worse than she already is? Because if that's the answer, then absolutely! B5?" Mella called, snapping her fingers as Brie Bella dropped to the floor and caressed her mistress's feet, an act that she'd been conditioned to enjoy. B5, or Broken Butt Bitch Brie Bella, promptly received a head smack for her troubles, or for wrongly interpreting what Money Mella desired. One or the other. "No, bitch, I need a strap-on! Go on, make yourself useful. Scour the room and find me something to fuck AJ with! NOW!"

"Yes, my Money Mistress! Right away, my Money Mistress!" Brie squeaked, jumping into action, praying that one day she'd be worthy enough to be fucked by her Money Mistress. Which, she still wasn't sure would ever happen. But by God, she would try. Weak and pathetic as her attempts may be, Brie has tried and will continue to try and prove her worth until the wheels fall off. How long would her tires tread though? That much remained to be seen.

As B5 looked high and low for a useful weapon, Mella undressed herself, slowly slipping out of her skin-tight, yellow satin dress and matching stilettos heels. Once removed, leaving The Fabulous One exposed save for her undergarments, which consisted of a completely transparent matching lavender-colored top and bottom set, Mella folded up her dress and set it on a nearby bench. It was an incredibly expensive dress, after all, handcrafted by a top-tier New York designer; tossing it aside like trash, left to rot on the dirty locker room floor would be in very poor taste.

Carmella's body was money, pun intended, the combination of several years of professional dancing and working out for professional wrestling keeping tight parts toned and rock hard, but managing to leave her enticing bits nice and plump. That round, juicy ass, so soft and supple like a pillow at a glance, but seemingly sculpted from stone upon further inspection. Those perfectly shaped breasts, a pair of tan, buxom globes tantalizing to anyone with a pulse. Already a work of art in her purple lingerie, Carmella's exquisite beauty engulfed the room once her bra and panties were removed.

The moon-walkin', trash-talkin' top was now completely naked, her sex bare for the world to observe. Soon after, Brie returned from her short adventure, her sleek, shoulder-length brown hair a disheveled mess. But regardless of her grievous appearance, Brie held in her hand exactly what her Money Mistress had commanded her to retrieve. A strap-on cock, one which Broken Butt Bitch Brie Bella had obviously fought tooth and nail through the crowd to obtain but, sadly, wasn't quite up to snuff with Mella's tastes.

The dildo was far too small, almost pathetically so, a size which Mella would never be caught dead wearing. It simply wouldn't do. Once again, Brie tried and failed to prove her worth, Mella snatching the strap-on offering and tossing it to the floor. "You think this puny cock is fit for someone of my stature, bitch?" Mella asked angrily.

"No, I-" Brie started, but was cut off by her ranting mistress.

"No, what? You obviously think I'd be willing to wear that shrimp, otherwise you wouldn't have fetched it. Am I wrong?"

"No, I just...No, my Money Mistress. I'm sorry, my Money Mistress." Arguing was a lost cause for Brie. Her failures had really piled up since being captured, so there really wasn't any point. Nothing she said would make Carmella change her mind.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, whore. Ya see, fuck ups like this are why you'll never get your slutty butt stuffed," Mella admonished before transferring Brie's task over to her more capable twin sister. "Nikki, be a dear and show your bitch sibling a thing or two about a thing or two. Please and thanks!" Always happy to oblige for her Money Mistress, Nicole jumped into action in search of a dildo befitting The Princess of Staten Island.

"She'll never get her slutty butt stuffed? What does that mean?" Sasha asked, realizing after how silly her question sounded.

"It means exactly what you think it means, Banksy," Mella brashly assured, pulling Brie in close, spinning the bitch around and grabbing a large handful BB's cute little butt. "This ass goes unfucked until Brie proves that she's earned it."

"Wow, that must be tough for you, huh Brie? Not getting your ass plowed since the night Carmella claimed you?" Sasha asked, which resulted in a laugh from The Money Mistress.

"Since the night I claimed her? Ha, that's funny. Truth be told I've never fucked this bitch. Not once!"

Sasha jumped back in surprise. "N-Never?" She stammered confusedly. "But how? She's completely subservient. How could you have submitted her without fucking her butt?"

"Because I'm the mother fucking real deal, Banksy, that's how," Mella boldly proclaimed, sending a chill down Sasha's spine as Nikki returned, leading to Brie being metaphorically tossed to the wayside in favor of her more popular and reliable sister. The Busty Bella took a knee, presenting The Princess of Staten Island with her weapon of mASS destruction before strapping the toy to the all-powerful top's waist.

Fourteen glorious inches in length and three in width, measurements that had both Nikki and Brie's mouths watering, and would've had their assholes quivering gleefully, if they weren't currently busy sucking on their booty corks. More than enough to wreak havoc on anyone's asshole, let alone a well-used target like AJ.

"The fucking truth, ladies! That's me, Money Mella! And now that I'm all strapped up, me thinks it's time I stopped tellin' and started showin'," Carmella announced, using her knee to nudge Nicole to the side as The Princess of Staten Island set her sights on the Latin spinner currently getting annihilated by The Glampire. Before Carmella could get too close, though, Sasha snatched her wrist, reminiscent of what Carmella had done to her just a few moments prior.

"Hold your horses there, truth. Just cause I agreed to let you join in on the fun doesn't mean you're not going to wait your turn," Sasha assured, no doubt in an attempt to piss off The Fabulous One. But Carmella was nothing if not composed. This close to a truly great experience, she'd never do anything to compromise it.

Backing off as Sasha let go of her wrist, Mella conceded, "Fair enough. You were balls deep in that bitch before I interrupted. Please, continue. But understand that I do grow impatient rather quickly." Stern but fair, just as any mistress should be. Just as Mella planned to be once Sasha was good and beaten.

But that was later, whenever their impending clash came to an end. Here and now, it was time to observe just what The Boss was capable of. Whether or not Carmella could acquire an accurate gauge of Sasha's skill was another thing entirely, seeing as though her target was damaged well beyond repair. But, I'd be enough to know if she was as big a threat as she claimed to be, regardless.

Paige brought her movements to a screeching halt, pulling her cock out and stepping aside as Sasha Banks, The Legit Mistress, approached. The Raw Women's Champion took her place on arrival with a deep, calming breath. "Pens and pads out, ladies," Sasha boasted, sporting a shit-eating grin. "Please, I implore you: take notes. 'Cause The Boss is about to show you how it's done. Ooh yeah, spread those tight little butt cheeks for me AJ, cause I'm gonna pipe you down so good, these other hoes won't even need a turn!"

With a weak, pathetic whimper, AJ reached back and slowly spread her firm, tan butt cheeks, offering only a small phrase to accompany her submissive response. "Please...fuck me," AJ squeaked, taking things a step further by burying her face into the locker room carpet and raising her ass as high as physically possible. AJ's fingernails dug deeply into the sun-kissed flesh of her toned booty, the clawing a desperate attempt to ensure that her current top had the best view possible of her already gaping, sloppy asshole in all its disgusting and tantalizing glory.

Best view possible was a pretty good way to describe what Sasha was seeing, at least from her point of view. The Boss could've sat there for hours, simply observing AJ's crater. How it winked every odd second in anticipation of its incoming treat. The slippery coating covering her out-stretched ring, no doubt caused by a combination of butt juice buildup and a series of reckless, inaccurate loogies. The way it remained in a constant state of "open", never fully closing no matter how long Sasha stared.

Which she did, frankly for as long humanly possible. The Boss hadn't gotten the chance to enjoy what AJ had to offer solo yet; the little bitch swaggered in here and Paige was quick to jump like a hungry lion attacking a gazelle. So, this was Sasha's first one-on-one time with a woman who, at one point, was somebody she considered an idol of hers.

Three years ago, when AJ was at her peak, Sasha was slumming it up on the indies, trying to get by with hard work, dedication, and a love for her craft and not the name of a certain cousin of hers. Eddie Guerrero and Lita were heroes of hers, people she grew up idolizing, but Banks would be lying if she said that AJ Lee wasn't in that ballpark, as well. Maybe not to the same extent, but that's neither here nor there. AJ, for all intents and purposes, was a lot like her.