No Holds Barred in London

'Don't call me "Vic",' Victoria said, moving away from the bed, towards an antique-looking chest of drawers. 'And don't say I'm "made-up". I'm as here and real as I've ever been. As you are about to find out.'

Trish wasn't horrified anymore, but she was seriously worried. The on-screen Victoria came across as a demented, sadistic villain. And there was no sign of her being better behaved in a bedroom. Often portrayed as a villain herself, Trish wondered what exactly lay ahead.

Ugh! Not a nice line of thought! A couple of pulls on her ropes proved that escape was impossible. As she already knew, the more she struggled, the tighter her hands were tied.

I've still got my legs. Maybe I can fend her off with them. Or get a grip on her . . .

When Victoria came back in sight she'd discarded the leather thong. In its place she was wearing a leather harness complete with an extra-large dildo . . . all in black, naturally. Somehow she was making the business end of the dildo twitch in anticipation.

'Oh no,' said Trish. 'If you think I'm taking that, you really are insane.'

'I don't think you're going to take it, my beautiful little Canuck bombshell, I know you're going to take it.'

'Victoria, listen, if you bring that thing any closer to me I'm going to yell rape.'

'No you're not.' Victoria's laugh really was crazy now. 'One: this room is soundproofed. I tested it last night with Sioux. It works.'

Trish could imagine only too well how they'd tested the soundproofing. And come to think about it, Sioux had made quite a racket earlier, without anyone coming to investigate.

'I can yell real loud,' she persisted. 'And even if nobody hears . . .'

'Two,' Victoria went on. 'You've too much to lose. They'd never preserve your anonymity if it came to court. And five million viewers know we've been itching to fuck each other. Any jury on earth will think I was just a bit more vigorous than you'd expected.'

'Victoria, watch my lips: I have not been itching to fuck you.'

'Not a problem. I'm doing all the fucking tonight. Now, do you want lube on this?'

'Victoria! Keep that fucking thing away from me!'

Victoria got onto the bed and knee-walked, taking no notice of her captive's protests, aiming for a position between her legs. Trish, close to panicking, tried to stop her with a clumsy sort of dropkick, but it had obviously been expected. Nimbly avoiding contact, Victoria grabbed Trish's ankles and forced them apart.

'No, no, no,' Trish cried. She'd forgotten how strong her rival was. She didn't just look big and full of muscles; she WAS big and full of muscles.

Laughing her crazy laugh, Victoria manoeuvred herself until they were groin to groin. Then, pinning Trish's right leg with her knee, she ran her free hand over her pussy.

'Still wet from Sioux?' she enquired sweetly. 'Or is this my doing?'

'You couldn't make me wet in a million years,' Trish snarled. 'Get the fuck off me.'

'Don't be like that. I'm trying to be considerate here.'

Victoria's version of "considerate" was using three fingers instead of four. Or so it seemed. She thrust them in without warning and, when Trish yelped, thrust again and again, each time going deeper and harder.

'Wetter and wetter,' she said in childish, sing-song tones. 'I think you want it after all.'

'Get the fuck off me,' Trish repeated. 'This is your last warning!'

Victoria removed her hand and ostentatiously licked it. 'Mmmm,' she went. 'So it's true. You can be sugar and spice and all things nice.'

Trish took a mighty breath and pulled herself together. 'Okay,' she began as reasonably as she could, wishing she wasn't so visibly shaking. 'I'm not in denial. You're going to fuck me. I know it and I have to accept it. But unfasten me first. Let's fuck the civilized way.'

'Was I born yesterday?' Victoria's laugh was louder and crazier than ever. 'Do I honestly think you won't try to fight your way out? Hmmm, make that a no.'

'Listen, I'm saying no as well. No you cannot fuck me tied up like this.'

'Oh yes I can. And here goes.'

Trish felt her eyes widening as the head of her arch rival's enormous cock pushed into her vagina. No, into her treacherously wet vagina. At first the angle wasn't quite right. Then, untroubled by her reflexive, evasive jerk, Victoria corrected and suddenly they really were groin to groin. Make that sloppily groin to groin.

Time for a management decision, Trish decided. Even unbound she might struggle to overcome the taller, heavier woman. Tied up as she was, she had no chance. So she was getting fucked whatever she did. Didn't it follow that resistance right now would result in pain and intimate injury?

Fuck knows what she'll do if I annoy her!

Trish used mind over matter, willing herself to be as submissive as she could. It wasn't easy. Her leg hurt where Victoria was pinning it. Her arms were under strain and beginning to ache. And as for her pussy . . .

It was strange, but her pussy felt okay. No, it felt much better than "okay", it was purring. Without her doing anything to contribute! She couldn't remember doing absolutely nothing before. Not absolutely, absolutely nothing. It must be Victoria's natural rhythm that was . . .

No, no, no, she thought, closer to panic than ever. She can fuck me, but I'm not letting her make me cum.

It was easier thought than done, though. Victoria was using the same sort of deep, hard technique she'd used with her fingers. And, minor aches and pains aside, Trish felt great. That is to say, that skimpily-clad body felt great as it moved on her. She found herself wishing her arms and legs were free, so she could . . .

No, no, no!

Even passive resistance was futile. Trish could feel a climax building and building. No way could she slow it, never mind stop it. And Victoria's stamina was undoubted. She wasn't just fit, fast and strong, she was able to go on forever. Leastways she was in the ring.

My God, what if she fucks me again and again? I'm going to struggle to live with myself as it is!

Trish's inevitable cum brought cackling laughter and even deeper, harder thrusts. Pelvic bones were slamming together time after time. A second climax quickly built up. And up and up. And . . .

Amazingly, Victoria came with her. She came hard, like a man, juddering and grunting, finishing in a series of diminishing lunges. Occupied with fireworks of her own, Trish still found a moment or two to be impressed. She almost expected to feel hot cum being spurted inside her.

'There,' Victoria said, withdrawing. 'Now tell me you weren't itching for it.'

Trish didn't want to consider the fact she'd been violated; she wanted out of there before Victoria got her second wind. 'I'll let you off the charge of rape.' She tried to shrug nonchalantly. 'That wasn't too bad after all. Next time try asking first, though. Or send chocolates and flowers.'

'Next time's coming right up. You'll have to wait for your candies.'

'Does that mean you're going to untie me?' The urge to escape was massive. At that moment Trish would have said or done anything to be free. Never mind Victoria's size and strength, she'd worry about that when it came to a fight. 'I'll be able to join in more if you untie me,' she said, fluttering her lashes. 'It'll be even better for both of us.'

'Avaunt thee, Satan.' The demented laughter had made a comeback. 'Shift up the bed a bit. This is as good as it's going to get.'

'You'll have to get off me.'

Victoria obliged without objection.

Puzzled, Trish wriggled until the ropes slackened. Victoria immediately unhooked one of them from its vertical upright and gave her a shove.

'Over on your front.'

'Uh-uh, 'said Trish.' Not a chance.'

But she was still up against a strong, untied woman. Before she knew it she was face-down with both arms secured again.

'Nice ass,' Victoria observed. 'But it's lacking colour. Here, try this.'

Trish buried her face in a pillow and endured a flurry of heavy slaps.

'There,' Victoria said finally. 'That's better. Now, do you want to know the rules from here-on?'

Trish bit back a sarcastic reply and let her continue.

'I'm going to fuck you for as long as I like. I'm going to make up for all the wrongs you've ever done me. But I'm not a heartless bitch. I'm not unreasonable. If you want me to stop you can say so. Just say, "I submit Victoria, you are superior and deserve my belt". Got that?'

It was Trish's turn to spit and snarl. Even without a referee present, she believed it was her duty to defend the belt 24/7. Submitting like that wasn't an option.

'No way!' she cried. 'I will never surrender.'

'What a cute little ass-hole.' Victoria was circling her fingers around Trish's anus. 'Bit tight, though,' she added, popping in a solitary digit. 'This calls for a smaller dildo.'

Trish buried her face in the pillow again. How had she ever ended up in a pickle like this? And how much was that black-haired bitch going to brag about it afterwards?

This time Victoria was only gone a matter of seconds. She paused before getting back on the bed.

'I know you're considering a mule kick. Trust me, Trishy Baby, I'm on the lookout. Try anything like that and I'll punish you. Be a good little bombshell and I'll give you a fun time. The choice is yours.'

Trish had been considering a mule kick, but not too seriously. Knowing her luck she'd get a knockout and what then? She'd still be tied to the bed in a soundproofed room. And Victoria would come round sooner or later, probably feeling like a bear with a sore head.

'Victoria,' she warned, 'this is not consensual. I do not want this. You do not have my permission.'

'Thank you,' the black-haired bitch trilled, 'you just made it twice as exciting.'

It was time for another management decision. Not much had changed. Trish was defenceless and about to be fucked against her will. She could struggle and get hurt, else take it and hate herself ever after.

Except now she had an out. Now she could submit verbally instead of physically . . .

'Lube,' she said out loud. 'I'm going to need lube.'

'I'm there before you, hon.'

Victoria splashed warmish fluid liberally over Trish's ass, getting the glowing cheeks of her bum as well as her bud-like anus.

'Better already,' she said. 'That's two fingers. Feels good, huh?'

'I don't want this,' Trish warned.

'Stop complaining. I've only got a tight-ass-hole-sized one on. Here goes.'

Trish almost wailed. She couldn't see whatever it was easing its way into her rectum, but it didn't feel tight-ass-hole-sized. Unsure how far she could trust Victoria . . . or if she could trust her at all . . . she stayed as still as possible, chewing a mouthful of pillow, hoping it would soon be over.

It wasn't. Victoria was showing off her staying power again, and her prowess. After a relatively gentle start she began steadily slamming in and out. Not to mention hard, deep and progressively faster. Yet again something very powerful started building up inside Trish; something way beyond control.

'Come on, Canuck,' Victoria urged, 'tell me you like it.'

'Nngg, nngg,' Trish mumbled into her pillow.

'Harder?' Victoria laughed madly. 'Okay, here goes. Take that! And that!! And that!!!'

The sudden cum took Trish completely by surprise. She'd thought she was still short of her plateau, but apparently she wasn't.

'Way to go, Trishy Baby! Take that! And that!! And that!!!'

Oh fuck, she was building up quicker than ever. Trish howled into her pillow, not willing to accept she was about to go off again.

'Nngg, nngg!'

'Harder?' Victoria grunted. 'My pleasure.'

They finished together once more, but this time Trish didn't marvel at the other girl's dramatic finale. She was too busy trying not to flake out.

This isn't fireworks, it's a rocket attack!

'Submit?' Victoria enquired, lifting herself off the bed.

'Never.'

'Okay, let's try super-sized.'

Trish had tears on her eyes as she waited for the renewed onslaught. She wasn't up on dildo sizes; her earlier assessment of "extra-large" had been a guess. It had been plenty large enough, though. The thought of having something so big up her ass . . .

Or something even bigger!

'Lift up,' Victoria commanded.

'Huh?'

'Lift your tail in the air. Unless you want a bit more anal.'

Hurting her arms in the process but eager to avoid a worse pain, Trish struggled onto her knees, head down and ass raised, no doubt invitingly. Victoria was behind her already, waiting. She shuffled closer and pressed something simply huge against her dripping wet lips.

'Are you ready to submit?' she rasped.

'Never!'

'Good, that means you want it.' Yet more deranged, witchy laughter filled the bedroom. 'And it means you think you can take it.'

'I can take it,' said Trish, more optimistically than she knew.

And that was as much foreplay as she was getting. Victoria pushed and Trish was aware of herself opening and engulfing. Although the sensation wasn't exactly comfortable she almost cheered. This was so much better than the alternative it wasn't true.

Not that it wasn't still violation. Not that she'd ever forgive and forget.

'Feels good, yeah?' Victoria must have also been on her knees, thrusting down from a slightly higher elevation. She was sticking to her deep and hard formula, surprising Trish not at all.

Oh my God, she thought, I'm going again. Big-time!

Trish tried to check her build-up without any noticeable success. Then, realizing she was building faster and higher than ever before, she experienced a flash of sheer terror. Her recent rocket attack already seemed squib-like. This was going to be thermonuclear.

And still she wouldn't submit. Still she couldn't submit.

Victoria was gasping and grunting now. She was not, however, showing any signs of flagging. In fact if anything, she was still speeding up.

'Take that and that and that!' she snarled. 'And that! And that!! And that!!!'

'Oh for fuck's sake, Vic. Oh fucking hell! Yes! Yes!! Yes!!!'

Trish screamed as she neared her latest cum. Then she went critical and the whole world flashed on and off in bloody reds and dazzling whites.

And then everything went black.

*****

Trish came round to find herself untethered, woozy and disorientated. And Victoria was hovering over her, smiling instead of snarling. That was peculiar, not to mention unsettling.

'Come on,' her black-haired nemesis said, 'let's get you in the shower. That'll bring you round.'

Not trusting her an inch, Trish allowed herself to be led along an internal corridor and into a very well-appointed bathroom.

'I like the black and chrome theme,' she said, trying to sound ballsy and tough. 'It's very you.'

'I'll take that as a compliment. How do you want the water? There's a choice of dozens of settings.'

'Cool but not cold,' Trish said after a moment's consideration.

Victoria set the shower going then removed her bra, boots and harness. She was still smiling and still hard to assess. Being naked with her was like setting up camp on top of a dormant volcano: pleasant views but laced with uncertainty. Who knew when she was going to erupt?

Trish eyed her suspiciously. 'Are you coming in with me?'

'Yes. I can't have you falling and banging your head, can I?'

They both laughed a little at that, thinking of the falls and bangs they'd inflicted on each other in and around the ring.

The shower area was, to say the least, sizeable. Trish reckoned it could have accommodated several tag teams. Victoria did, however, manage to make it seem crowded. And she insisted on doing all the washing and rinsing. Not that Trish complained. The girl seemed to have used up her aggression. In fact she suddenly seemed . . . well, almost affectionate.

God, the way she keeps brushing her tits against mine! She'll be kissing me next!! And I might even let her!!!

Before she got under the refreshingly cool water Trish had felt a little tender. Being hand-washed and rinsed was nice, though. So was that "accidental" brushing of body parts. Unable to stop herself, she moved closer and embraced Victoria. There was still no violent eruption. Encouraged, Trish slid her hands downwards and gripped two extremely muscular buns.

'You were right all along,' she said. 'I have been itching to fuck you.'

'It's supper you should be eating,' Victoria replied, 'not me. Come on; let's go show Chef our sincere appreciation.'

There was a built-in cupboard in the bathroom, seemingly full of robes. Victoria picked out a short, sky-blue one for Trish and an even shorter white one for herself.

'Can't always be predictable,' she said in response to Trish's raised eyebrow.

Room Service had visited the suite in their absence. They went into the dining area to find dome-covered plates and more Moet in an ice bucket.

'Salmon starters,' said Victoria, pointing to the silver domes.

'Don't say you're stealing Sioux's supper.'

'It never was Sioux's supper. And this never was her suite.' Victoria was still smiling. 'The invitation was from me all along. She just fronted it up, to make sure you accepted.'

It occurred to Trish that she could leave if she wanted to. Okay, she would have to recover her clothes from the bedroom floor, but that wouldn't take long. Victoria seemed too chilled to try to stop her. In fact she probably had no desire to try and stop her. She'd already had what she'd been after, hadn't she?

My ass on a plate!

Trish took a seat at the table and uncovered her plate. Mmmm, lots of rolls of pink salmon on a bed of salad.

I've earned my supper, she thought. I might as well enjoy it.

'By the way,' said Victoria as she popped the champagne cork, 'what did you promise Sioux?'

'What?'

'To make her come across.'

'I didn't have to promise her anything. She threw herself at me.'

'Huh! She told me you weren't her type.'

'She must have changed her mind then.' Trish paused to sip from her flute. 'What about you? What sort of a push have you given her?'

'I haven't done much, really. She doesn't need it yet. The plan is for her to challenge for my belt. Once I've taken it off you, that is.'

'In your dreams.'

Their conversation became more general as Chef arrived and grilled precisely to their specifications. Then, alone together again, Trish asked the sixty-four thousand dollar question.

'What sort of fallout do I get from tonight?'

'Nothing from me. And Sioux's sworn to silence. Unless you squeal yourself, it'll be our little secret.'

'Why should I believe you?'

'Because I might want to get you into bed again, sometime.'

'You'd better remember the chocolates and flowers, then. Oh, and here's a tip. You wine and dine a girl before you fuck her, not afterwards.'

'I thought the Brits did it the other way around.' Victoria topped up their glasses. 'When in London . . .'

'What about going ahead? Us, I mean. Do we suddenly become friends?'

'I think we keep the audience guessing. Maybe we go home from the UK and, although everyone can see something's changed, nobody knows what it is. Then maybe one of us saves the other, out of the blue.'

'The classic show of affection, eh?'

'It works, doesn't it?'

The top of Trish's robe fell open as she pushed away her empty plate. 'My God,' she said, staring at her tit, 'what's that?'

'Just a little hickey.' Victoria laughed lightly. 'The others are bigger.'

'Others!' Trish jumped to her feet. 'What others? For fuck's sake, Vic, I'm headlining on Saturday. I can't go out there covered in bites.'

Cursing as she went, she stomped into the bedroom. Usually she surrounded herself with mirrors while she washed, groomed and dressed. Victoria had taken care of her after the shower, however, towelling her dry and helping her into the robe. She hadn't spared herself a glance.