Money Mella Makes Her Mark Ch. 04

Obviously, such mind alterations were done against her will, without her knowledge even. But, captivating the mind proved to be Carmella's greatest skill, exactly what Sasha had feared the most. Actually, it was the only aspect of Carmella that she feared. Banks had done her fair share of underestimating Mella in the lead up to their match, but after their first interaction, she couldn't help but be impressed with the way she operated.

Claiming a bitch without fucking her into submission was an incredible feat that, even at her most confident, Sasha found extraordinary and...impossible. How could it be possible? How could it be that such a nothing in the ring could be so skilled, so captivating, so...majestic, that she could claim a bitch without even bumming her? Even now, with several months of thought poured into the subject, Sasha couldn't wrap her head around it.

What she could wrap her head around though, was the fact that each time Mella's wonderful thunder thighs came crashing into her juicy butt cheeks, her bones rattled. It felt as though the Earth was shaking around her, trembling her entire body with a devastating quake. Sasha had never felt anything quite like it...never, not even in her wildest dreams. But somehow, the feeling wasn't completely foreign. And God, did Sasha hate every agonizing second.

Equally as agonizing was the air, of lack thereof, still struggling to fill her lungs at any given second. Even as the thrusts grew more intense, as Sasha's thin body shook underneath the overwhelming pressure of Carmella's massive cock barreling in and out of her hole, that iron grip never faltered. Every so often, Carmella would release slightly, just enough to keep Sasha conscious, but that was by design, purposeful; a way to keep the over-confident Legit Boss guessing at all times.

Sasha Banks' first foray into anal obliteration wasn't without excitement, that's for sure. The trio of butt sluts, one hungrier and more desperate for a backdoor blowout than the last, watching in awe and jealousy as they dreamed of taking The Boss's place. All the while, Sasha mentally begged to whatever higher power available to be literally anywhere else. Because as time progressed, as her defenses slowly began to lower, it became harder to argue.

Fuck her mind, fuck her stupid, stupid body for feeling the way it did! Sasha hated it so much that her stomach was in knots even considering the possibility but...a small part of her was getting off on Carmella's strong mitts wrapped around her throat, choking the life out of her. An even smaller, almost microscopic spec hardly worthy of making up her DNA...oh, God...liked(?) the feeling of getting hopelessly abused by The Staten Island Princess's positioning cock, throttling her tiny asshole, plunging into Sasha's deep, uncharted depths and hitting spots she wasn't even aware that assholes have.

Why? WHY!? Why did she have to feel like this? Why did Mella have to be so...perfect? A million questions just like those raced throughout her typically over-confident mind. But chief among those was the latter, forcing itself to be asked again and again. How could Mella be so perfect? Why was Mella so perfect? How did Mella get so perfect?

Sasha hated the thoughts spilling out of her mind in the form of wordless, pleasure-filled moans the likes of which she couldn't have imagined herself exhaling even a few minutes ago. She hated the tiniest sliver of Mella's beautiful face caught in her peripheral vision. Even the mere mention of her name was enough to get her toned tummy churning. Yet, coming to terms with the truth, the ultimate unholy confession, was getting easier and easier.

Just when Sasha thought she couldn't be more conflicted, Mella finally released her grip on, allowing the air to pass throughout Banks' body freely and, this time, for good. But, Carmella didn't leave her hands without a role in her "Boss Bumming" picture, instead wrapping them around the long, silky purple hair flowing free from Sasha's skull. Like an expert, Carmella used her grip on Sasha's hair to her advantage, pulling Banks' body into every thrust and maximizing the intensity and the pressure that Sasha's slim frame was placed under.

For those on the outside looking in, it probably appeared as though Carmella ramped up the pace in the traditional sense. Which wasn't necessarily out of question, seeing as though Banks' asshole was more than worn-out by now. But, truthfully, the reasoning behind Mella's actions was a little more complex, as was usually the case with the most fabulously-dominant woman in all of WWE.

What appeared shallow and thoughtless was as deep and complicated as an inescapable labyrinth, and equally as irritating as well, at least in Sasha's case. Carmella's change in approach came as a result of one desire: to hear the truth fall from The Boss's supple, full lips. Technically it already had, with moans and whines filling the room long ago but, frankly, that wasn't the kind of truth Mella wanted to hear. She already knew Sasha would be a buttslut; c'mon, it was like her sixth sense.

Instead, Carmella wanted to know for sure, once and for all, if this was truly Sasha's first time experiencing the greatness of an alpha-contender's cock. If all those rumors about her and Charlotte were just that. Rumors, and nothing more. Mella had a feeling the truth lied in the opposite direction, but she wanted to hear it from the source. And, as time progressed, the desire to hear it grew and grew.

Mella didn't just "want" to hear Sasha admit the truth about her bottoming history, she NEEDED it, even if it meant she didn't actually claim her first anal cherry. It was kind of a double-edged sword in a way, with plenty to lose but just as much to gain for both women, those of which were obvious for Mella, but for Sasha?

Banks still wasn't interested in spilling the beans, but that didn't stop her asshole from gripping Mella's cock somehow as tightly, maybe even tighter than her pussy would. Her anal ring had gotten quite good at contracting and constricting at a moment's notice over the course of the bumming sesh, depending on where the rod rammed up her rump was located. So far, her anal workout was going exactly how Carmella had geniusly envisioned, but The Staten Island Stunner had yet to fully squeeze the last bit of hope out of Sasha's gorgeous frame.

Deep down, contrary to the copious amounts of drool hazily falling from her lips and the moans that released in between, Sasha Banks was far from broken. Somehow, the thought of breaking had yet to even properly occur to her. She juggled the thoughts of Carmella's impressiveness and the exquisite euphoria she felt from the incessant pounding. But, never flat-out giving it all up in favor of a new life, a fact that bothered Carmella to no end! She couldn't abide it!

Sasha Banks and her silly little facade was pathetic, almost pathetic as the one Nikki Bella had worn before Money Mella set that anal-addicted whore straight. Her livelihood was a falsity; Sasha was a bottom playing pretend, a top by name but not in nature. She may have been able to convince everyone she was something special thanks to her success between the ropes, but the ugly truth was unavoidable. Sooner or later, it would come to bite her, Mella just knew it! And that sooner was right now! By hook or by crook, she was going to get her way!

"You wanna tell me now, Banksy?" Mella growled, huffing and puffing as Sasha's stamina proved to be every bit as impressive as her own. "Huh, bitch? You wanna tell me how Charlie bummed your hole over and over and over again, and that's why you take it so easy for me? Or...or, maybe you wanna tell your Money Mistress how you're a dirty, little, anal-addicted liar? Fuckin' tell me, Banksy! Tell the truth!"

Though the request was difficult to process, Sasha eventually succeeded, even eliciting her own desired response, a simple "No" in refusal. Which, naturally, angered Carmella to no end. After all the work she'd done, after all the careful planning, the wannabe was still fighting, even though it was painfully obvious that she was loving the attention her asshole was getting. Hell, she hadn't stopped moaning since the pain disappeared!

"You're a fucking liar, Banksy, I know it," Carmella reiterated, putting a little extra oomf into a serious of upward thrusts; safety was thrown out the window now. She was ready to tip The Boss apart. "But we'll play by your rules. If you don't wanna tell the truth, the I'll...I mean, WE'LL have to fuck it out of you."

Sasha's eyes widened obscenely. Suddenly, everything stopped feeling good, and a pit fell to the bottom of her stomach. Everyone in WWE had heard words just like those before, and the entire roster would've known what they meant. In reality, they meant the end of Sasha Banks, world-class athlete and fearless top.

"No, please, anything but that! I'm begging you! It'll...it'll rip me apart," Sasha tried to plead desperately, hoping that by including her well-being, she'd get some semblance of mercy in return. No luck, unfortunately.

"You think I give a fuck, whore? I wanna know if your hole is my very first cherry or not, and if you're not gonna tell me, then I'll go with the safe route. Either way, I'm taking something from you," Mella assured, slowly lowering her pace to help ease Sasha's mind, really letting her focus on answering the question.

Stammering, Sasha replied again, "T-This is my first t-time, I promise! You took my anal ch-cherry! It's yours, I swear."

"I don't believe you," Carmella growled back. "Especially since that's exactly what you would say to avoid two cocks slamming your butt. But, it sounds genuine enough..." Mella trailed as she leaned in, ensuring Sasha heard every bit of what she had to say, "for an average top."

"It's the truth, I-I promise," Sasha weakly responded again, but Carmella still wasn't buying what The Boss was selling.

"Yeah, so you say. Tell you what, Banksy. I'll give you one last chance to decide: tell me the truth or take two cocks in your asshole. Now!" Sasha's heart began to race; she wanted to repeat herself again, she wanted Carmella to believe her but she wouldn't. For whatever reason, The Princess Staten Island wouldn't accept an answer that she didn't want to hear, that didn't fall in line with her suspicions. And she was smart not to because, the truth was, Sasha Banks was a dirty little liar, just as she had predicted.

With a face full of sorrow, Sasha turned back and slowly, carefully told the truth. "Fine...the truth is...I've been fucked by Charlotte before. That's the honest truth, okay? No more questions! She only fucked me one time! And it was after we made our bet! That's it! One time, I swear to God!"

Carmella sighed big, finally relaxing as she removed her cock. "Damn! She just barely edged me out," She groaned, standing to her feet. "That sucks, guess I really will have to wait to claim my first solo butt cherry. Either way though, I'm glad you finally came clean, Banksy. It feels good doesn't it?"

Initially, Sasha was relieved, sighing even larger than Mella just had a few moments before. But then, she stopped to analyze what had actually been said. Then, her heart sank, just as it had before. "Umm, solo cherry?" Sasha asked weakly, turning back once again to notice that Carmella had disappeared from her immediate rear view; a quick scan found the leggy blonde off in the corner, the same place Nikki had retrieved the strap-on Mella was currently wearing earlier.

"Well, yeah. I'm still gonna double-fuck your butt, Banksy," Carmella casually explained, her easy-going demeanor contrasting greatly with the severity of the situation, as well as the second strap-on sitting gracefully in her right palm, the matching harness in her left.

Stuttering, Sasha argued, "That's- That's not fair! I told the truth, dammit! You- you promised!"

"Did I?" Mella asked confusedly. "I don't think I did, actually. I recall giving you a choice, but I don't recall saying I wouldn't double-bum you anyway. Ha, that was stupid of you, wasn't it? Shouldn't a top like you realize when you're being set up? I'll bet you feel pretty dumb right now, don't you?"

"You bitch! You've got some nerve calling me a liar!" Sasha spewed, rising to her feet and, subsequently, dropping to a knee as she realized that her lower body hadn't begun to recover from the anal pounding she just received, only the second of her short, promising life.

Throwing her hands up in defense, Carmella explained, "Hey, I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done, right? You withheld the truth? So did I. Hurts, doesn't it?"

"Fuck you! I'll make you pay, I swear! You'll never break me! Charlotte couldn't, and neither will you, and when you fail, I'll make sure that I get you back!" Sasha, in a blinding rage, nearly forgot that the woman she was spewing venom at would lead the double-anal onslaught she was about to receive.

"Heard it all before, love," Mella assured, drawing closer. "I'm not falling for it. You showed your true colors when you begged me to leave your DAP cherry alone. 'Please, I'll do anything, it'll rip me apart.' Sound familiar?"

"But that was-" Sasha started to defend, but was quickly shut down by Mella.

"Nope, I don't wanna hear it! You're a fake, Sasha. A fake who's about to learn why you don't go out of your way to piss people off. Nikki?" Mella's harsh scolding was followed by the beckoning of a familiar name, the owner of said name quickly hustling over to where her mistress stood and dropping to her knees.

Then, Carmella explained, "Nikki, stand up. You're gonna help me fuck Banksy's little asshole, okay? Does that sound like fun?"

"Yes, my Money Mistress," Nikki purred.

"Good, good. Now, I know it's gonna be hard for you, but I really need to draw out the old Nikki, if you can. We need to fuck this bitch up nice and good, so please, try and think of someone else's asshole for once. Can you do that for me?"

Nodding, Nikki answered, "For you, I can do anything."

"That's fucking delightful," Mella sarcastically complimented, handing the the dildo and harness over to her charge. Following her orders, Nikki quickly attached the two together before strapping it to her waist, marking the first time since breaking that she'd worn a strap-on, a moment that she hoped would never come again. But it wasn't so bad, merely a matter of circumstance and, even if it meant topping again, Nikki would do it, just to make Carmella happy. Such was her job as ace bitch to the Money Mistress. "Now, get on the floor and let that pathetic bitch ride you!"

Orders were given and followed in stride, just as Nikki always did. Super reliable unlike her sister, which was probably why she was the first to get Carmella's trademark dollar sign inked onto her ass cheek, and why poor little Brie only had an empty circle, just waiting to be filled. Subservient Nicole picked an empty spot on the floor and, against her own better judgment, Sasha followed her over. It's not like she could fight her way out of the situation or anything. Really, her only option was to throw on a brace face and try to survive. Therein lies the biggest problem though.

Surviving a double-bumming was far easier said than done. In the near twenty year history of WWE's hierarchy system, you could count on one hand how many have been able to walk out of a double-stuffing without their mind altered. And, even if they didn't break, they were often dealt the final blow the very next time they bottomed. So, Sasha was going to have her work cut out for her.

The prospect of a life-altering change from occurring didn't stop Sasha from moving her feet though, as she didn't want to risk any more excruciating punishment, or worse, humiliation. The initiation of a dual-dicking usually meant the beginning of the end; all Sasha had to do was survive and her horrendous, one-time-only affair as Carmella's bitch would be over. Behind her for good, with a chance for a new beginning.

That was later though, and first, Sasha would have to do the actual surviving part, starting with mounting the pathetic bitch tasked with being the bottom of their three-person tower. With all the enthusiasm of a great white shark etched across her face, Sasha Banks saddled up into cowgirl position, unknowingly doing exactly what Carmella wanted by facing Nikki, giving The Princess of Staten Island a look at the juicy, fat ass moments before it was stuffed full again.

Nikki took a deep breath, coming to terms with the fact that, one more time, she'd have to top someone. Having since realized that she was a pure bottom designed to be used by her mistress, Nikki Bella didn't have even any topping desire left in her luxurious body. Even as she took her cock in her hand and pressed it against Sasha's wet, loose opening, she had to throw on a brave face, for Carmella's sake.

Sasha whimpered pathetically as her hole was penetrated again, that butt quickly swallowing Nikki's smaller 9-inch dildo opposed to the grueling process she dealt with in taking Mella's python. Such was a process she'd soon relive but for now, Sasha settled with dropping her ass down until she reached the base, understanding her task and begrudgingly accepting as she then began to ride the worthless bottom attached to the cock.

Nikki also understood her role, not as a top but as a cog in the machine, a second cock to help break Sasha and nothing more. Even wearing the strap-on pained her, but as Sasha continued to ride, just sitting back and letting The Boss work became incredibly easy, especially after Nikki caught a glimpse of her Money Mistress approaching from the background.

Carmella gave Sasha a few minutes of relief, a momentary reprieve, a calm before the catastrophe that awaited. But soon enough, that time wound down, and Mella found herself ready to do what nobody else had been able to do. Not only claim The Legit Boss's double-anal cherry, but her mind as well. Sasha would break, just as Nikki, Brie, and AJ had done before her. Just like everyone else in WWE would, sooner or later. Eventually, they'd all realize.

For now though, Carmella had to settle for Sasha Banks, a prize worthy of settling for, I might add. As she drew in close, her cock glistening from a mixture of both The Boss's butt juices, as well as Nikki Bella's, a twistedly gorgeous concoction any of the weaker women in the room would love to sample. But that would come later, once the breaking had concluded. Later, after Mella grasped the middle of her rod and directed it towards Sasha's already filled hole.

Nikki, putting her wealth of bottoming knowledge to good use, took hold of Sasha's shoulders, using the leverage to stop Banks in her tracks and keeping her there long enough for her mistress to do the deal. "Deep breaths, Banksy," Mella advised as she lined up her cock. "Slow, deep breaths. Your little butthole is about to take more cock than you can imagine, so just try to stay relaxed, okay? The pain is only temporary, and on the other side lies a brand new life!"

Spitting in the face of Carmella's pseudo-supportive words, Sasha defiantly fired back one last, "Fuck you," as Mella shook her head in disapproval.

"Have it your way," Mella decreed, pressing her cock against Sasha Banks' anal ring. Naturally, that fully-stuffed hole resisted against the pressure, Mella using every bit of force she could muster to even budge it. Her anal ring slowly, painfully pulled apart even further, stretching to an obscene degree as Sasha wailed in agony. Stretching, stretching, stretching; Nikki turned into a marble statue to ensure that everything was still for her mistress.

Sasha's back nearly crumpled from the pressure, and tears streamed down her face from the intense pain and stress her asshole was under, as well as the incredible humiliation of being forced to take two cocks at once. After only taking one cock in her life prior to tonight, Sasha was certain that this moment, right here and now, was the worst moment of her life. Which, coincidentally, only lasted a few more brief seconds, as her asshole finally accepted its second offering. With a scream from The Boss and a guttural groan from The Staten Island Princess, Sasha Banks was officially double-stuffed.