Reclamation - Becky Lynch's Return Ch. 05

Like a shark in a blood-filled pool, Flair attacked the champ with a series of ferocious strikes, each of which landing with full force. With momentum now fully in her favor, Charlotte took hold of Bex's right arm and started to work on it. A few stomps and knees came and went before the golden-haired Amazon furthered her assault by scissoring her long, muscular legs around the appendage.

Becky screeched in pain as the crowd booed tremendously. As always, the audience was firmly behind The Man and, quite similarly, they were against Slick Ric's daughter. The reaction didn't deter The Nature Girl though, who only seemed to deal more damage the noisier the fans got.

Charlotte was beaming, seeing HER plan take shape right before her eyes. She noticed Becky's hand sticking out, reaching for anything to try and break the hold. Always one to share the love of brutality, Charlotte took The Man's fingers into her grasp. In a move straight out of Pete bloody Dunne's playbook, opted for a bit of joint manipulation, yanking the middle-most fingers apart. Just like that, Becky's hopes of putting her oldest foe away were fading.

In a true display of her arrogance and ignorance, Charlotte released her hold, The Man immediately gripping at her injured hand. The pain in her upper arm was merely fractional compared to that of her fingers; if she could still lock in the Dis-Arm-Her before, she definitely couldn't now. Becky dragged herself into the corner as Charlotte posed and gloated to the crowd, once again letting her ego get the best of her. In such a dire situation, she didn't have the time for gloating but, since gloating is kinda what she does, Charlotte made the time. After all, this match was hers for the taking now that Becky was unable to perform her best move.

Still, Charlotte didn't get too carried away with her classic Flair shenanigans and showboating, jumping into action with a huge dropkick into the corner once she'd finished riling up the audience. Becky slumped onto the mat, still clutching at her injured arm. Things weren't looking good for The Irish Ace; she needed something to get out of this hole. But, said hole only seemed to grow deeper as The Queen went back on the offensive, flinging a volley of strikes to the same arm she'd so heavily damaged already.

Becky scrambled towards the ropes but was quickly caught and pulled back to the ring's center by her physically imposing enemy. Again the crowd jeered, only for all of their incessant hollering to quell once Charlotte locked in an armbar. The Man, WWE's fiercest competitor and the only woman to hold both world titles, sat in the middle of the ring, screaming her lungs out in sheer agony. Just a few seconds in and already Becky thought about calling it quits. Realistically, she didn't have to win tonight. Her ass and her momentum were safe. She could tap out now and live to top another day. But no!

Becky couldn't quit now, not when she's come so far! Tonight was the night, she promised herself as much! The Man would rid herself and the WWE of the self-entitled Queen, once and for. So, giving up was not an option, no matter how painful the hold was, no matter how close her arm got to snapping in half. Becky was not going to give up! All she needed was a way to break the submission.

Overpowering was out of the question, as well as reversing the move since she no longer had enough strength in her arm to do so. Her only option was to try and crawl as much as possible until her leg could reach the nearest rope. That way, the hold would be forced to break, at least temporarily. The only problem was that it would take everything she had left to drag her weight, as well as Charlotte's, halfway across the squared circle. But with no other choices left, Becky tried her best, gripping at what seemed like miles of the empty canvas next to her.

Becky tried adjusting her body, as well as kicking her legs out but to no avail. Nothing seemed to work! Their combined weight was too much for her to move in this position. But, when all hope appeared to be lost, Becky dipped into her hand deep into the metaphorical desperation jar and pulled out a last resort technique that was sure to tip the scales in her favor.

Putting every bit of her life energy into each movement, Becky Lynch aggressively wriggled and writhed her body until she slowly, but surely edged herself to the rope. Not quite to the rope, but just far enough to where she could reach the rope with an extended leg to force the break. The crowd went nuts, loving the first sign of life from their hero in the match thus far.

Only the tip of Lynch's boot barely scraped the bottom rope, but the referee began his count nonetheless. Charlotte, a scowl emblazoned on her face, held the hold until the count of four. Her brain was telling her to hold the count until five, to get herself disqualified. Disqualification victories of that sort had almost always been grounds to cancel a bet unless specifically stated otherwise. But, even with her ass on the line, Charlotte couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger.

Just as much as Becky did and arguably way more, Charlotte Flair needed to win this match. Once she did, then Becky 2 Cocks' little reunion tour could finally end and with it, her momentum as well. Then, The Queen of WWE, The Queen of Wrestling, and, most importantly, The Queen of The Hierarchy could strike and put an end to the one pest that had constantly bugged her throughout her glorious reign. Not only that, but she would repay every bit of disrespect in spades; the gloating, putting her hands on Charlotte's ass, and especially forcing her to call Becky mistress. Winning the match is all that matters to Charlotte, so long as in the long run, Becky's the one bent over, begging for cock.

Nevertheless, The Man was safe, for the moment at least. But, the break didn't keep Charlotte from launching another series of attacks which, luckily for Becky, she saw coming from a mile away. Catching her second wind, Lynch dodged her rival before answering back with a big dropkick, sending The Queen into the corner. In a moment of genius, Charlotte saw an opportunity to go for her signature big boot and took it, only to be countered again, this time with the Bex-ploder suplex. A one-armed Bex-ploder, no less.

The crowd's excitement ironically seemed to peak as both ladies were laid out on the canvas. The match's pace was at an all-time low and Charlotte's anger was at an all-time high. How, after all the damage she'd dealt, could Becky still pull off such a physically draining move. The fans would probably say something stupid like, "Well, she's a badass!", or, "She's got more heart than anyone!". But The Queen didn't believe in all of that bullshit. She was better, not because she was a badass or because she fought valiantly, but because she just was. Charlotte Flair's technique, physical prowess, and agility had yet to be matched by the inferior Becky Lynch and yet, she still couldn't beat her.

Why? Why, after so many attempts, had she been unable to find an answer to The Man. In the end, the answer was staring her right in the face the entire time. It was the people that cheered her on, the ones who supported her through thick and thin. Who stayed loyal to their hero, even as she disappeared for nine months to have a child. Her absence had only made their hearts grow fonder. Without a doubt, Becky Lynch was a champion of the people.

The diehard fans were responsible for her will to win, even if she didn't realize it. Charlotte hadn't noticed it because, since day one, the crowd had always been against her, jealous of her silver-plattered opportunity just because she's wrestling royalty. She'd never had to rely on a good crowd response to win, nor had they ever fueled her to victory. Charlotte was born and bred for success, a trait she's been vilified for since day one. Yet, Becky can run through the entire roster, and somehow, the fans only seem to love her more. An infuriating realization, to say the least.

Becky began to stir but unfortunately, she was beaten to the punch. Charlotte had already risen to one knee and before long, was on her feet again, sending Bex back down with a vicious stomp to the back. More stomps followed as Charlotte seemed to release every bit of pent-up frustration she'd bottled inside. Once again, the crowd audibly showed their displeasure and once again, The Nature Girl allowed the rambunctious audience to break her focus.

Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal but tonight, she needed to stay at the top of her game. The stakes had never been higher, and little missteps such as stopping her assault to taunt the crowd were the exact opposite of what she needed. But alas, she couldn't help herself. The crowd's evident disapproval only seemed to fuel her desire to taunt them further. Heading closer towards the hard cam, she leaned over the rope to further bask in the crowd's disgust. Blinded by her ego, she couldn't even notice her red-hot enemy creeping behind her.

Throwing The Queen completely off guard, Becky rolled up Charlotte, turning her inside out and giving The Man a golden opportunity to turn that into her signature submission maneuver, the Dis-Arm-Her. The crowd's energy flipped again and only grew as Becky reached for Charlotte's arm and pulled it back. And then, Charlotte's fool-proof plan finally paid off.

The RelentLass Raw Women's champ wrenched at her enemy's arm but was only able to use her good arm to do so. Her other arm was far too damaged and frail to use, so she relied solely on the strength of the one. In doing so, Charlotte was able to use her captured arm to flip Becky up and off her with relative ease. It didn't deal much damage, but that little throw was all the evidence Bex needed to see that if she was going to win this match, she'd have to do it without her best move, a fact Charlotte must've known too, seeing as she was laughing hysterically.

Enraged by her rival's amusement, Becky charged, only to be countered with a drop toehold. Seeing her best chance to put this match to bed, Charlotte took Becky's leg and, within seconds, went for the Figure-Four. But, she made the brutal mistake of forgetting, if only for that split-second, just how fired up and motivated Becky Lynch was to win this match. The Man, the reigning Raw Women's belt-holder, countered the hold by putting a boot to the ass that she planned to make her own. This sent Char into the ropes, leading her to bounce back and attempt a big boot on her seated opponent, exactly what Becky was hoping for.

She saw it coming from a mile away, making it easy for her to counter with what could only be described as the strongest move in all of WWE when performed this late into a match: the dreaded roll-up! Becky used one earlier, but that time, Charlotte had rolled through instinctively. The same couldn't be said this time.

Using the entirety of her body weight, Becky laid on a full-stack or "matchbook" cover, forcing Charlotte's legs up near her head. The ref began his count as WWE's alpha female squirmed and writhed under her title's greatest threat. What followed were the longest three seconds the incomparable Queen had ever lived through. As the ref's hand hit the mat, she witnessed her career as a top flash before her eyes. One, two, three, and her life as a top was over.

The bell rang and the crowd roared as a giant grin shot across Becky's face. The ref handed The Man her title and instead of gloating or pandering to the crowd, she quickly left, allowing her fallen foe to wallow in her defeat. She had more important matters to attend to, anyhow.

Charlotte laid in the ring, she hadn't moved a muscle since the three had been counted. Eight years. Eight long years spent building her legacy and protecting her ass, all down the drain in the blink of an eye. Gone was her dream of becoming the greatest alpha the company had ever seen, the only one since Chyna to retire on top, with her asshole untouched. As of tonight, she was officially Becky Lynch's bitch. Her anal virginity, something that even the biggest of dreamers could imagine themselves taking, was as good as gone, Charlotte's asshole quivering in fear from the mere thought being defiled. But it was happening, and she had nobody to blame but herself. Well, maybe Rhea, since her advice hadn't paid off. But other than that, Charlotte owned the bulk of the accountability.

The ref walked over to Charlotte, asking if the former alpha was okay. He wasn't aware of WWE's secret hierarchy, so obviously wasn't clued in on the circumstances behind Charlotte's mental breakdown. She finally rose to her feet, assuring the official that she wasn't injured, but was definitely NOT okay. Against her will, he hurried her along to the back, clearing the ring for the upcoming match.

The walk to the women's locker room was a long one, only lengthened by Charlotte's intentionally slow pace. She almost wished she could walk and walk forever, without reaching it. So long as she never arrived, she would remain an anal virgin and the alpha of WWE. But the halls of the arena were empty, and it became increasingly obvious that the whole roster had rushed to the locker room. As much as it pained Charlotte to do so, The Queen had no choice but to give her subjects what they desired. When she finally arrived at the door, Flair took a long, soul-leaving breath before she pressed the handle down and opened the door.

On entry, Charlotte took notice of three key things. All eyes were on her; not too out of the ordinary, it happened every time she entered the locker room. But, a second and unusual detail was that there wasn't a single woman topping or bottoming. They all appeared to be sitting around, waiting for her arrival. The third? Becky Lynch was sitting in a chair positioned in the middle of the floor, faithful sadomasochist by her side. Around her waist was the Raw Women's title and, to nobody's surprise, Becky was the one to break the tension first.

Standing up from her chair, Becky cleared her throat before beginning her speech, "Lasses, tonight's a special night! Tonight, we crown the new alpha of the hierarchy! As of now, I'm officially the alpha female of WWE. But, what does that make of our former alpha? Do ya know?"

The herd of mindless buttsluts ubiquitously responded, "Yes, Mistress", while the few souls who weren't completely hopeless stayed quiet.

"So, what are we gonna do about it, whores?" Becky asked redundantly and said whores quickly responded again.

"You're gonna fuck Charlotte Flair's virgin asshole!" They roared as Becky laughed and Charlotte's tan face blushed profusely. As much as she hated hearing these vermin speak of her most private hole in this manner, having all the eyes on her wasn't hurting her ego.

"Ya hear that? It's time, lass." Becky announced as she began to approach her prey. "Ohhh yes it's time!"

Becky got within reaching distance and, as she did, Charlotte spoke for the first time since arriving. "C'mon, Bex, please." She pleaded bashfully.

"C'mon what?"

"You know, just...please hurry up and get this over with." Charlotte hushedly elaborated, trying to avoid the humiliation of saying those dreaded words out loud.

Continuing to purposefully play dumb, Becky asked again, "Get what over with, Char? C'mon use yer words, lass."

"YOU KNOW, DAMMIT!" Charlotte fumed, unenthused by Becky's little taunts. But she'd forgotten just who was in charge now. Using her one good arm, Becky dragged Charlotte and threw her into a section of metal lockers, face first. Normally, The Queen would never allow a weakling like Becky to throw her around like this, but at the moment, she was walking on eggshells trying to avoid a worse reality without degrading herself.

Now caught in her life's most compromising position, Charlotte Flair was pressed up against the lockers, her tight, virgin ass facing outward, almost begging to be Man-handled. Becky teasingly hovered her hand over that muscular little booty, feigning a spanking session only to further the intimidation factor. But luckily, or sadly, Becky wasn't interested in spanking her greatest rival, not yet at least. No, she had the rest of her life to batter that butt, preferably on days where it wouldn't hurt her to so. For now, she just wanted to live in the moment and truly do what she'd always dreamed of doing. Something she could've done last month, but was forced to wait; luckily now seemed like as good a time as any to fulfill her fantasy.

So, Becky leaned in real close, her face barely an inch from Charlotte's. The Queen was breathing heavily, terrified by the fact that Becky had the right to whatever she wanted. The brand new alpha female of WWE took the former alpha's waistband into her grasp and yanked down. A few more similar gestures followed until her trunks sat firmly around her ankles.

Charlotte's bare ass, in all of its innocent glory, was on full display for everyone to see, The Queen's face turning beet red out of embarrassment. With no more fabric standing in her way, Becky began to aggressively grope her rival's butt before asking the same humiliating question as before.

"I'll ask ya again, Char, and really think about it, yeah? So, what time is it? Tell me what's about to happen?" Without hesitation, Charlotte jumped right back to her previous answer but before she could finish, Becky cut her off by amplifying the pressure at which she was forced into the locker.

"No, no, no! Wrong answer!" She proclaimed, opting to throw in at least one smack to that pristine bum for bad behavior, The Queen yelping in response. "Ladies, I think we got ourselves a regular Trish Stratus, huh? A regular Betty Phoenix? 'Cause, what we've got is a former alpha, unable to cope with her loss of power and refusing to accept her new role. Now, Char, you've been 'round the block for quite some time, so I'm sure yer aware of what happens when an ex-alpha female doesn't learn her place?"

Oh, Charlotte knew exactly what Becky was referring to. The same tactic she threatened to use when making her statement two months ago. The Locker Room Train, something that every top always avoided at all costs. She'd never suspected that she'd have to, considering her high positioning since day one. Yet, here she was, being threatened with what was always the worst possible outcome for the poor bottom it never failed to create.

Even now, with her destiny all but certain, Charlotte felt the need to deny herself that humiliation, even though, no matter what, there was no getting out of the incoming butt-fucking. Whether it was just Becky or the entire women's roster, it didn't matter, her asshole was going to get used and abused tonight. And the next night. And the night after that. Every day and every night, for the rest of her life, Charlotte would be Becky's fucktoy, nothing more than a cocksleeve to be used at the pleasure of her mistress. A grim reality for someone who just a few months ago was on track to become the greatest top WWE had ever seen.

That felt like a lifetime ago now. Hell, this morning felt like a lifetime ago because, though she'd already been pushed way farther than desired, at least she still had her dignity. She could still hold her head up high and say she was The Queen of WWE. There was nothing dignified about being forced around and dominated by a woman half her size or getting her prestigious butt played with. It was humiliating, only enhanced by the horde of onlookers who once worshipped her.

"Yes, I know," Charlotte finally answered, her statement jumbled due to her lips being smushed together.

"Yes what, bitch? We've been over this!" Becky shouted, simultaneously shoving harder and tightening her grip on Char's ass cheek.

"Ah fuck- Yes, mistress!" Charlotte budged, wincing in pain.