Money Mella Makes Her Mark Ch. 05

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Still clutching Zelina's face softly, Mella leaned in again, sadistically tricking the younger, more impressionable woman into puckering her lips for round two. But, it was merely a ruse, nothing more than a sick lead-in game for Carmella to direct traffic. Mella seductively whispered into Zelina's ear, "C'mon, Zelina, let me show you the joys of belonging to me."

Carmella's demand was hardly a demand at all. It was more so a request, followed by an outstretched palm, a gateway to a realm filled with endless pleasure and euphoria. So close, all Zelina needed to do was reach out and grab it and, maybe in the heat of the moment, she wasn't thinking straight. Or, maybe Zelina should've thought a little longer before deciding but, she couldn't help herself. La Muñeca reached out and quietly laid her hand atop Carmella's, The Staten Island Princess snaring Zelina's hand as she promptly led them both down the hallway and soon, into the WWE hopeful's brand new life.

________________________________________

The rushing hadn't stopped, not since Carmella boldly pressed her lips against Zelina's. Mighty Minx was on cloud-nine all throughout their little voyage to the parking garage, as well as their ride back to the hotel. Those feelings persisted in the lobby, and they peaked as the pair waited inside the elevator. A sudden ding and the doors parted, Carmella and Zelina hurrying down the hallway like a pair of giddy teenagers trying to sneak off without their parents seeing.

Their final trip was short, just a few doors down from the let-off point. As they arrived at their destination, Mella pulled a key card from her purse and swiped it on the card reader attached to the door; a series of small beeps informed them the door was now unlocked, as well as the light above the reader mutating from red to green. Carmella turned the handle and they both slipped inside.

Now secluded from the outside world, Mella led them into the bedroom area, hand-to-hand with her new sub-to-be. Once inside, she returned her lips to Zelina's, the Puerto Rican Princess graciously accepting Money Mella's full, well-glossed, cherry flavored offer this time. Deep into heat, no reservations about what this could possibly mean for the future, or where it would lead even as far out as the next few minutes. With Carmella's lips pressed firmly against hers, the rest of the world melted away.

Zelina was so oblivious, in fact, so caught up in her lust that she was unaware that Carmella's hands had been traveling all throughout their embrace. Starting at her face, they slowly slipped down until eventually, they found a home, tightly gripping that fat ass bulging out of her workout gear. The prize, that peach, was what Carmella desired and now that she had it, nobody could stop her from taking it.

When Mella finally broke their kiss, Zelina finally noticed the firm grasp on her bottom, and turned her head to look back. Mella pulled a hand up, using it to seductively return Zelina's attention to where it belonged, face to face with her new mistress. In a soft, subtly commanding tone, Carmella ensured, "You're mine now, understand? I'm gonna show you what it means to belong to me. But this isn't slavery, and I'm not a rapist. So if you wanna leave? If me grabbing and squeezing your fat ass like this is too much for you? Then go, I'm not gonna stop you."

Zelina could feel her heart pumping even faster; she didn't know what to think, her head was spinning so fast. But, rest assured, she wouldn't dream of leaving. Not with so much to learn, with so much knowledge to be imparted with. So, instead of turning tail and taking Carmella on her limited-time offer, Vega puckered her lips as a way to say the opposite, only for The Princess of Staten Island to squish them between her thumb and forefinger.

"Nope, we're done with that now. We're treading new ground, understand?" Mella informed and Zelina slowly nodded her head subserviently. "Good. I'm glad. Now...another question: do you know where we go from here, Zelina?"

Zelina shook her head honestly. As a lifelong straight woman, she wasn't really sure if she had a good answer to that question. Which then prompted Carmella to answer for her, much to her own chagrin. "The answer is you remove those pesky clothes of yours and put on a little show for me. Sound like a plan?"

"O-Okay," Zelina meekly agreed as Carmella sashayed over to the bed and took a seat on the edge, untying and kicking off her green and black Jordan 1's on arrival. Zelina began to awkwardly fumble with the bottom of her T-shirt, but caught a glimpse of Money Mella wagging a finger in her peripheral vision.

"No, no, no. Come closer, give me a good look at your sexy little body," Carmella ordered and Zelina adhered, stepping forward until she was standing before The Staten Island Princess, mere feet away. There, she continued her performance, doing her best to try and act provocative whilst fighting against her nerves.

Thankfully, when it came to looking sexy as fuck, Zelina didn't have to try. Her large, well-rounded breasts, barely contained by the thin and breathable fabric of her workout top in the first place, flopped out, easily mesmerizing the Money Mistress. Then came the lower body, equally as enchanting and maybe even more so, Zelina bashfully bending over upon turning around and slowly pulling her skin-tight leggings down her toned legs, revealing that juicy booty in all of its glory.

"Stay there!" Mella suddenly commanded and Zelina obeyed. "Yeah, right there. Let me get a feel for that ass!" Leaving her post, Carmella took her natural place, behind a weak, insecure woman like Zelina. So straight? So certain that she wasn't interested in any "lesbian sex stuff"? So certainly a broken bitch already," Mella thought to herself as she reached out and got up close and personal with those fat, Rican cheeks. A pair of handfuls is all that was necessary, one for each meaty mound.

Caressing the smooth, tan skin. Shaking, jiggling, and patting at that gloriously large ass for a woman so small! But it was! Zelina's cake went on for days; just playing with it wasn't enough to hold Carmella off. Sure, that round, Latin butt was beautiful as is but...it was missing something, and after a little thinking, Money Mella decided that what was missing was a little...red coloration.

God, just watching those cheeks shake had Mella drooling, but she knew things COULD be taken to another level entirely, and all she needed to do was bend this little bitch over! Just the thought was driving her insane; Carmella knew that spanking the whore probably wasn't the best way to convince her that breaking was ideal but dammit, she couldn't help herself! A bubble booty like this just had to be beaten!

Mella stood tall, softly guiding Zelina back to a standing position as well. She kept one hand firmly attached to that ass, laying claim to it, ensuring that they were both aware of that fact. Then, as La Muñeca shivered, hardly an inch of space between them, Mella slowly wrapped a hand around her charge's throat, using that leverage to roughly position her over the foot of the bed. Ass sticking out, her gorgeous face swallowed by the thick, satin covers, completely unnoticeable; just how God intended.

Typically, Mella would usually take the time to verbally insult or inspire her bitch right before a spanking, really getting them in the mood for it. But, Zelina was supposedly new to all of this; she figured that everything was better off left unsaid until after the first attack, that way, Zelina could react naturally. So, instead of speaking, Carmella cocked her hand back and smacked it down on one-half of that delicious rump.

Such a sudden and vile form of affection received an unsurprising response from poor Zelina; screams of pain. Mella waited for the initial wails to die down, then she continued to direct traffic, "Shh, calm down. So, when I do this you count back to me. Every. Time. Understand?"

Sniveling, Zelina answered, "Y-Yes." Carmella was tempted to spank her again as punishment for failing to apply her official title of "Money Mistress" to the end of her confirmation, but that would defeat the purpose of her next question. So, she decided against it.

"So where are we?"

"O-One!"

Beaming, Mella complimented, "Good girl! How about now?" Following her question was another smack to that delicious cake, once again making the tiny brunette babe squeal and squirm pathetically. The palm strike was stiff, but hardly even impressive compared to those used against Sasha weeks ago on that fateful night. Which was probably why soon after receiving it, Zelina was able to count back, just as directed.

"Two!" Zelina yelped, swallowing hard as she awaited her third strike, which came a few moments later. Smack came Mella's hand, clattering against her brown skin, leaving the same kind of sickening evidence Carmella always loved to see. "Thr...ee!"

"Good, good! Now, what's this?" Mella asked, cocking her hand back and slamming it down again, Zelina promptly answering, "Four!" Then, Mella switched things up a bit by tossing out a wave of palm strikes instead of going one for one. Three big spanks, all of which were bigger than Zelina had experienced from one to four, but none of which were enough to throw her count off.

"F-Five...Six...S...Seven!" The counts continued to please The Money Mistress, who happily tossed out several more, all of which the little fuckdoll was seemingly happy to oblige in counting back. Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, the spanking seemed to go on forever and ever, and while Vivacious Vega never failed to call-in-response, it was obvious that the pain was beginning to overwhelm her.

The palm print on her right cheek had grown considerably large due to a mixture of Mella sending out stiffer and stiffer strikes, as well as the intentional targeting of the same spot, over and over again. Her legs were shaking and tears had fallen from her face, soaking into the bed sheets that housed her beautiful mug. Zelina was in a world of pain and yet, she never failed to perform her duties. Another slap to that juicy rump, another sign that La Muñeca was born for this.

"T-T...Twenty....two!" She struggled, practically choking on her tears but persevering nonetheless. Zelina wasn't sure why either. At any moment, she could, at the very least, say something or try to fight back. Hell, she should do, as anyone from back home in Queens would. But...submitting to Carmella, if that was the word for it? Something it just felt...right. It was as if her mind was telling her that by counting back, she was making the correct decision not only for the current situation, but for her future, too.

Plenty of opportunities for Zelina to falter came and went. Twenty-three and twenty-four crashed down and, once they had, Money Mella finally decided to show the left juicy butt cheeks the same love that she'd shown the right. And one by one, it slowly began to resemble its twin again.

Six quick attacks were used to start, a test of sorts to see if Vega would be able to keep count with that many at once. They weren't as strong, sure, but as with everything involving the powerful Princess of Staten Island, they still packed a wallop, and they came by quick enough to leave a stinging sensation. Even still though, like a PlayStation memory card, Zelina was able to keep track of her progress.

"Twenty-five, t-twenty-six, t...twenty-s- oh, God, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, AHH-twenty...nine...th-thirty!"

"Good girl! You're being such a well-behaved slut for me, Zelina. I love that!" Mella complimented, waiting patiently for that which should always follow a genuine, heartfelt kudos. Two simple words, sometimes three for the weak bitches of WWE and for Carmella's cast of whores it has always been four. Often spoken but never thought about. And maybe Zelina was in too much pain from her very first spanking. Maybe she was coming to terms with her new lease on life and was so distracted by her bright future below Carmella that she didn't hear her Money Mistress speaking. Whatever the case, Carmella was going to get her "thank you".

What followed as a form of motivation, if you will, was the biggest and toughest spank that poor, helpless Zelina had been subjected to thus far. Very stiff, so much so that her wails returned in spades, despite the fact that they had quelled considerably the longer the spanking went on. She turned to look back at Carmella, hoping for answers but only finding a cold scowl in return. But the answers she was seeking did come moments later.

"I gave you a compliment. What do you say?" Mella asked redundantly, cocking her hand back threateningly as Zelina scrambled to find a suitable answer.

"Thank you!" She cried, bracing for another smack that, thankfully, didn't come. Instead, Mella pressed her palm down on the dark red damage that she'd caused and began to rub and massage it.

As she firmly caressed that ass, hoping to ease La Muñeca's pain, Carmella replied, "You're learning so fast, Zelina. It's impressive, " before cocking her hand back and slamming it down once more, jolting the submissive little bitch forward. Naturally, she cried out the number in response, and did the same when Carmella's hand came in contact again.

Just as quickly as thirty-one and thirty-two came thirty-three through thirty-six, in punishing pairs of two, pushing Zelina towards the end goal. Lucky number fifty; that's what Carmella wanted to hit, and for a first-timer, getting in even this close was impressive. Zelina was proving every second that she really was born to do this. Though, it hadn't fully registered in her mind.

Even as she mindlessly cried out her counts of thirty-seven through forty, and then later forty-one through forty-five, Zelina wasn't fully sold on the idea of submission. Of course, by instantly adhering every time Mella's hand clapped her fat butt cheeks, adorning her smooth, brown skin with an ever-darkening shade of crimson, she had done just that. Submitted, even in the smallest regard, despite everything she'd said leading up to that magic moment where their lips touched.

It was all true, every word, every syllable. Zelina wasn't a lesbian, and had no interest being the subject of some sick female power fantasy centered around anal sex, enslavement, and acceptance of humiliation. Her problem lied in the fact that despite not being a lesbian, she wasn't so straight that she couldn't be turned by an alluring and captivating mistress like The Fabulous One. Just one look into Mella's beautiful brown eyes and one passionate embrace, and she was caught in the seductress's web of confusing feelings.

Zelina wasn't sure what to feel, or necessarily how she should feel it. All she knew was that there was something in her brain telling her to obey. That when the goddess standing behind her smacked her juicy Rican cheeks, she should count, just as she'd been told to. So she did, all the way up to that magic number. The crescendo of their little spanking session. Forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine...

"F-FIFTY!" Zelina screamed as she finally hit her mark, a strange, unexplainable sense of accomplishment passing over her.

"Ooh...good! I'm very impressed, Zelina!" Mella complimented, Vega quickly thanking her without hesitation this time. "You've done so well thus far. You really were born for this, huh? To be my little doll? You were made for me Zelina and I will prove it. But first...since you've done such a great job at obeying my every command on your very first time submitting, I suppose you've earned a little treat, haven't you?" She wasn't sure why, but Zelina's innate response was to nod back.

Carmella chuckled quietly to herself as she calmly backed away, drawing in Zelina's attention as the tiny brunette turned and dropped to her knees. Once she knew all eyes were on her, Mella tugged at the bottom of her shirt and began to seductively pull it up. The thin fabric, whose ascent originated at her hips, passed over her toned abs, Zelina's eyes locked onto The Princess of Staten Island, laser-focused on catching a glimpse at the gloriousness that must've been lurking behind. So close, so effortlessly close to revealing themselves but, just before Zelina's mind was blown, Carmella stopped, throwing a surprised, almost upset expression across La Muñeca's face.

Grinning, Mella prodded, "You look awfully bothered by the fact that I've stopped for someone who's not a lesbian. Isn't that funny? Tell me, Zelina: do you want to see my breasts? You do, don't you? You want to see my big, beautiful tits in all of their fabulous glory! Just the thought of them is making your pussy wet, I can tell!"

Mella was feeling a high like no other, one that was only ever replicated when easily manipulating weak bitches like Zelina. She cockily teased a little under-boob action, flaunting the end of her shirt this way and that before explaining, "Ah, but I don't just give this view out to anyone, ya know. I'm not a cheap slut! If women are works of art, crafted with the finest touch imaginable, the I'm a fuckin' Van Gogh, got me? So, if you wanna see this exhibit, you need to pay the price of admission!"

"O-Okay," Zelina agreed instinctively, unsure of anything outside of the fact that she needed to see Mella's breasts as much as she needed to breathe.

"Alrighty then, why don't you go ahead and beg for it? It won't be your last time begging tonight, so don't worry about trying to be clever. Just beg for what you so desperately crave! Beg me for the honor of seeing my wonderful body!" God, hearing those magic words never failed to give Carmella an adrenaline rush. She waited for a sign, a tell that would indicate to set the rush into motion. Luckily, she didn't have to wait long.

"Carmella, p-please-" Zelina began, but the impatient, butt-pummeling Princess of Staten Island quickly interjected.

"No, no, no! That's all wrong," She snapped, letting go of her shirt, Zelina groaning as it fell back down to Mella's waist, overlaying her tight-fitting designer jeans. "Firstly, if you're gonna be my bitch, then you need to address me by my proper title. I am your Money Mistress, so please, call me such, m'kay?"

Zelina couldn't remember officially agreeing to be Mella's bitch but, for whatever reason, some strange phenomena possessed her to respond in kind. "Yes my...my Money Mistress."

"Good," Carmella accepted. "Now, let's talk about your performance. When you beg, I really need to FEEL it, ya know? I need to see the passion in your eyes, the pathetic, helpless tone in your voice. I need to know that you'd really do anything to get what you desire from me. Does that make sense?"

"Ye-Yes, my Money Mistress."

"Awesome! Now, doll, give it another try," Carmella suggested, returning her hands to the bottom of shirt, pulling it up until the thin fabric rested just below the curve of her fabulously large breasts, a slight tease of the powder blue undergarment beneath peeking out. "From the top! One...two...go!"

Zelina took a second to think about her response and then gulped hard before letting it out. "Can I please see your gorgeous body m-m...my Money Mistress? I-I want it so bad...please?" Carmella smiled as she tightened her grip on the end of her shirt.

"Keep going," She purred, lifting up ever so slightly to tease just a bit, and encourage the little bimbo to beg on.

"Please show me your gorgeous body, Mistress!" Zelina cried, quickly wondering where that verbose enthusiasm had just come from. "I need it! Please!" Mella nodded her head in response. Such a plea was more than satisfactory, doubly so considering that there was no doubt in her mind that it was completely genuine. She stepped forward slowly, crossing one leg over the other as she toyed with the idea of giving the sexy little nymph her way. And she would, too. The bitch had earned as much; Mella just wanted to give her a better view.