Reclamation - Becky Lynch's Return Ch. 06

The waiting game. A deadly, career-altering battle in certain instances. Normally, the waiting game is played mildly, at best. But in pro wrestling, it can be lethal to an athlete's chances of success. Let too much time pass before giving the fan-favorite a championship opportunity, and watch as your audience begins to stop caring. Debuts pretty much work the same way.

You can only play vignettes for so long until fans start to wonder if the wrestler will ever debut, or whether it will even matter at all when they do. It's a complex game, only made worse by the cherry-picking lot that is WWE. It's no secret that those they prefer or "have star potential, pal", are always granted the most opportunities. Lesser individuals are forced to wait in line, hoping and praying their opportunity ever even comes.

Someone in particular who'd been made to wait was someone who other management teams fast-tracked to superstardom. A tall, muscular and powerful blondish brunette from Adelaide, Australia; The Nightmare, Rhea Ripley. Everything about Rhea screamed "next big thing", from her unique punk look to her physique to her badass, take no shit attitude.

After finishing up in NXT several months ago, Rhea had been forced to play the waiting game. When will she debut on Raw? What kind of storylines will be set up for this can't miss talent? Or, my favorite, how will WWE mess this one up, too? Sadly, only one of those questions had been answered. The last one, just like most of her fellow NXT alumni. It was almost entirely because of Becky Lynch.

From the day that Lynch announced her pregnancy, WWE had been planning for her return. When it happened, they pushed everything else off the table, so they could focus on the division's biggest star. The merch machine! The most over thing in the business, whose popularity persisted through a near-year hiatus. Just like that, anything that management had for Rhea long-term was out of the window.

They still liked her and thought that she would be the face of the division someday. But, that sentiment meant little to Rhea, who was forced to sit back and watch as her push was taken by a bigger star. Big surprise since this never happens in WWE, but amazingly, a promising young star was shoved to the background to make room for a more established player. Naturally, Rhea found this unforgivable.

Not nearly as unforgivable as Charlotte stealing her butt cherry a year and a half ago, but still enough for her to be incredibly pissed. And, since she couldn't really take her anger out on the source, why not take her aggression out on the source's little pet?

Rhea aiming at Becky was hardly ground-breaking since the alpha spot was something she would've been competing for anyway. But now, it felt personal for her. The Nightmare felt as though she'd been wronged by the system. Whether WWE's intentions were malicious or not, she was upset about it and Becky would pay the price, a payment Rhea hoped to collect as soon as possible. Because, at long last, it was happening!

Rhea Ripley's main roster debut was scheduled for tonight, for the Monday Night Raw two weeks after the Backlash PPV. She's been off of television for a while now, having not been seen since the Royal Rumble earlier this year. Needless to say, The Purveyor of Brutality was incredibly excited to get back in the ring. But even more exciting was Charlotte Flair's training as Becky's new favorite bitch.

NXT doesn't have access to information on the main roster hierarchy; they're usually left out of the conversation since they're "developmental". But, since Charlotte had come to her, specifically asking for help, Rhea knew exactly what was on the table and watched the match closely. The result was a satisfying one, even if it was Becky that won the right to The Queen's virgin hole.

The prospect of how far Charlotte might've come in the last two weeks was interesting, to say the least. So interesting that as she walked down the hallway to the women's locker room, Rhea couldn't get it out of her head. The most ego-maniacal bitch on the roster, forced into a life of bottoming. A woman that had taken so many anal virginities, that doing so hardly even brought a thrill anymore. On paper, two weeks was far too short a time to teach such an old and stubborn dog some new tricks. But, this is Becky Lynch, easily one of the strongest and most convincing tops out there, so Rhea knew if there was anybody who could pull it off, it was her.

Regardless, all of her questions would be answered the moment she opened that door, which could finally be seen at the end of an incredibly well-lit corridor. With a smile on her face, Rhea rushed to the entrance, her big, full duffel bag flopping to her side. Upon arriving at the door, the familiar and relaxing sound of screaming anal whores could be heard, something that brought a small, idyllic smile to her face. Rhea turned the handle and opened the door and her mouth dropped.

What stood before her was shocking. Never, not in a million years could The Nightmare have imagined what she saw to be reality. In the middle of the room sat Charlotte Flair with her ass raised high and her cheeks spread apart. Behind her was Becky Lynch, sporting a wicked smile as her large strap-on cock impaled The Queen over and over again. And lastly, behind Becky, stood in wait every woman in WWE worth a fuck. Almost every top and switch, and just for the irony, Char's former lieutenant, Alexa Bliss positioned in the very back. Like the alphas from the past, the great trailblazers who'd come before her and paved the way, Charlotte was receiving HER Locker Room Train.

Running the Train on Charlotte had been a long time coming and, even though "breaking" the cunt hadn't been particularly hard, Becky would hate to break tradition. Especially since that first night with The Queen hadn't been quite as grandiose as Becky had imagined. Even now, with a cock gliding easily throughout her ass, Charlotte was stealing all the spotlight.

"Mmm, you- AHH- you always fuck my little ass so good, Bex!" Charlotte praised, bracing herself for the inevitable spanking that Becky would send her way. She did, and as always, Flair yelped from the stinging pain, a sensation she'd already grown accustomed to. A sensation, she'd already grown to love.

"Bitch, if I've told ya once, I've told ya a thousand times!" The Raw Women's champion bellowed, viciously beating that booty with everything she had. Her arm had long since healed up from their match, and Bex'd been training that ass ever since.

"Oh my God! You're right! I'm sorry, Bex!" Charlotte apologized, the reason for the spanking going completely over her head. Though her long-term learning curve needed work, another round of brutal butt beating was enough to get the once arrogant, now broken bitch to pipe up with, "Sorry, Mistress!" Normally, it took even longer than that to get The Queen to refer to her owner properly; Becky thought about that little tidbit with a smile on her face as she finally took notice of the large, butch woman standing at the entrance.

"Oh, Rhea! How the hell are ya, lass! Sorry, I didn't notice ya any sooner but, I'm a little busy here." Even after having a few moments to process it, Rhea still couldn't believe just how far Charlotte had fallen, especially so soon after breaking. To think, the woman who'd stolen her anal cherry was now nothing more than another buttslut to add to the list.

"I'm...good," Rhea informed succinctly, trying her best to formulate something cool to say, but almost completely at a loss for words. She never had this problem before in NXT; it was almost as if she was intimidated by the overwhelming confidence the alpha was displaying. Or, maybe she's still just in shock from seeing the former and longest-reigning alpha in such a compromising position. After all, Rhea had never seen an ex-top suffer the Train before. Only career bottoms, and only a few times throughout the years.

Rhea's thoughts were interrupted by Becky's sudden groan and subsequent removal of her cock. The pathetic sub that was Charlotte Flair whimpered like a dog desperate for a treat as The Man piped up again, "Alright, who's next? Sasha?" The Boss was, in fact, next; she'd been standing behind Becky, waiting for her first turn with one of her arch-rivals. As pissed as she was with her fiery-haired frenemy, Sasha wouldn't dream of missing out on this opportunity.

"My pleasure, Alpha," The Standard quipped, feigning a curtsy in an effort of brashness. Still trying to smooth things over, Becky let her impoliteness be, giving the alpha female of SmackDown access to her new favorite bitch's eager little asshole. "Whatdya say, Queen? Ready to get fucked by a REAL top? Mmm-FUCK! Are you ready for The Boss, Charlotte?"

Truthfully, she wasn't. Well, she did want to try another cock, but was far too proud to admit it. After all, Becky had every right to violate her butt, she'd earned it. Not just in one respect, but in several matches throughout their entire careers. But Sasha? She'd seldom been able to beat The Queen. The few times she had, Charlotte was able to get her to win back in short order, proving it to be nothing more than a fluke. Sasha Banks wasn't better than her, so why should she get to fuck her asshole?

But, she couldn't help herself, her bottom half was just too curious. Every top brings something different to the table, and the prospect of getting fucked by the SmackDown Women's champion got her juices flowing. But before Charlotte could beg for it, Sasha forced her cock up that gaping chute with one thrust.

Immediately, Flair could tell that Sasha's skills as a top were inferior to that of her mistress, from both the size of her cock, as well as the way she used it. However inadequate The Boss seemed, she had Charlotte moaning like a bitch regardless. "My, my, what a useless cockwhore you are! Loving my cock already and I've barely given you half of my strength. Ooh- Damn guys, am I good, or what?" Sasha preached, beginning her sodomization in the process.

"Or maybe her mistress has taught her well?" Becky chimed in, Sasha briefly waving her off in response before blessing the world with her gift for the gab again.

"Nah, that can't be it! Nope, she hardly even knows how to properly address you! Charlotte here, our precious little Queenie? She's just a natural-born bottom! A genetically superior one, at that!" Sasha assured, the last statement sending her into a quick laughing fit. Considering who's slut she was defiling, Banks was playing her cards poorly, but walking into bad situations was always kind of her thing, anyway. It's why she'd only managed to become a legitimate alpha contender over the last year, after being seen as nothing more than a switch for most of her career.

Now, she was enjoying a long run with the SmackDown title, as well as longer anal abstinence. A tremendous run that peaked at Money in the Bank, when she fucked Bianca Belair into submission. Unfortunately for WWE's Blueprint, that same night saw Becky do her best impression of Benedict Arnold, turn-coating and trying to steal The EST for herself. Becky had assured Sasha that wasn't the case, but she knew! Oh yes, she knew damn well and good! And to make matters worse, The Man hadn't even been able to finish the job!

While most of the roster was aware of what transpired that night, almost nobody, including Becky, was keyed in on what happened the following morning. When Bex had awoken, Bianca was nowhere to be found. She'd always just assumed that she returned to Sasha after waking, but that wasn't actually the case. It couldn't be; Sasha should know, she would've seen her. She would've fucked her.

Bianca never arrived at Banks' hotel room that morning, nor did she ever reach out to her supposed mistress for further instructions. There had never been any follow-up from that night, leading Sasha to believe that when Bianca had awoken the next morning, she'd undergone a change of heart. Naturally, nobody else had been able to contact Belair either, meaning there wasn't a single person who was aware of her true feelings. At least, not anybody that comes to mind.

Long story short, Sasha still had a huge bone to pick with her fellow Horsewoman. If she'd only let her take the reins, Bianca would've been truly broken, paving the way for a double-ass fucking to melt her brain for good. But the selfish, arrogant, and unbearable side of Becky Lynch reared its ugly head, leaving The EST with just enough time to recover, albeit without her anal virginity.

One person that Becky had managed to break was Charlotte, the dazed look on her face was enough evidence alone. Sasha started with full intensity and though her thrusts weren't quite as strong as the alpha's, they weren't weak, either. Far from it, actually; The Boss used every ounce of force her tiny frame could muster, giving that already worn-out hole everything she had. The line of people patiently waiting their turn stayed quiet, allowing the sounds of their contrasting flesh to echo throughout the otherwise empty room. Charlotte didn't stay quiet though, that would've been physically impossible.

Not with Sasha destroying her hole in such a manner, with a unique combination of thrusting pattern and speed leaving her entire lower half completely numb. Soon after, her upper body followed suit and before long, Charlotte was lying face down on the cold, hard floor, mere seconds away from cumming. An explosive, mind-altering orgasm was on the horizon, her first from another woman not named Becky Lynch. Flair's mind went blank, except for one thought: damn, was she wrong to doubt Sasha Banks!

During her time as a top, Charlotte had fucked just about everyone who wasn't still currently an anal virgin. So naturally, she'd had her way with Sasha countless times, especially before The Standard or The Blueprint ever picked up those monikers, before she was even The Boss. Sasha was pretty much Charlotte Flair's anal slut; not anyone else's, just The Queen's. So, the 11-time champ was surprised when that same woman, who not too long ago was scared to death of her, made her cum in record time.

With a long, guttural scream to the Heavens, Charlotte let go, cumming hard as she threw her ass back against her temporary top's lightning-fast thrusts. It was probably her lowest moment yet, the deepest look into her future form as a perfect bottom. Though she'd already been fucked dozens of times, Char had yet to feel the urge to hammer her ass back, but this time, she couldn't help herself. The Boss's cock was just too addictive, she had to have it beyond 100% strength.

That proved to be too much for her to handle though, and she couldn't help but detonate for the first time that night. Despite the limpness of Char's entire body, her asshole was still able to clamp down like a vice, proving that her butt had sadly yet to receive irreparable damage. The initial orgasm hit hard and fast, rocking Flair to her core, but staying long enough to allow an even stronger second climax to eek its way in. Then, a third followed, this one so powerful that she briefly blacked out; luckily her senses returned quickly enough to allow The Boss's massive monster to slip out of the tremendous abyss that was her asshole.

Charlotte, breathing irregularly, graciously accepted the weak, insignificant slaps to her battered butt that followed as punishment. Normally, Sasha would never allow a bottom to cum under their own volition, but allowing this worthless whore that privilege meant that she'd have some more ammunition to fire at her rival. Ammunition she gladly accepted.

"Ha, I knew it! You haven't taught her anything, bitch! Mmm, Charlotte has a lot to learn indeed. Hey, Char? How about we get a real top to teach you right?" Sasha's request went in one ear and out the other, as Charlotte was still reeling from what had easily been the strongest orgasm volley of her short, but eventful bottoming career. Hell, not only that, but it was the best fuck, as well. Her asshole was so dilated and open, that she could feel the cool AC passing in and out of her crater, something that made her read for some reason.

Someone who wasn't quite as happy was Becky, who refused to let the abrasive Boss have the last laugh. "Oh trust me, we'll get there, lass. And when we do, you won't be involved! Now, get out of my line!" Becky's petty demand sent shockwaves throughout the locker room, the inhabitants gasping at the real consequences of what was perceived as friendly banter.

Always the fiesty one, Sasha fired back, "What? You're kicking me out of The Train? You realize that to do a real train, you need real tops, right?" A valiant effort, but she'd pissed off The Man, the hierarchy's new alpha, and now she'd pay the price.

"Trust me, we've got 'em! Rhea!" Becky assured, calling out to the athletic awestruck Australian, who'd never really made it further than a few feet into the room. "Take Sasha's place! And Sasha, my dear friend... get the hell outta my locker room, before I have ya join yer ol' pal Char on the ground there!" Sasha abided, but not before flipping the bird to her former associate, as well as taking her sweet time to dress. In contrast, Rhea eagerly took her place, quickly undressed, and pulled out her biggest strap-on. Probably a little too eagerly; it kinda made her look like a child preparing to open a gift on Christmas morning, a far cry from her usual personality.

Nevertheless, Rhea joined the line of superstars, taking a place behind Alexa Bliss in the back.

Sasha left, allowing The Train to go on as planned, with The Princess of Staten Island herself, Carmella, up next. The former SmackDown Women's champion stroked her cock as she gawked at the sight before her. The gaping asshole of a woman who'd always been a thorn in her side. Like most of the roster, Carmella had a bone to pick with The Nature Girl and was ready and willing to unleash several years of pent-up frustration on that useless buttslut. Not that Charlotte would feel it anyway.

No, she was still collecting her bearings due to Sasha's vicious and delicious assault. But, though she was hardly even conscious, Flair knew that The Train had to proceed and, as a result, another lower-tier bitch would get to fuck her. So, she patiently waited for the fucking to begin. A wait time that was rudely lengthened by her mistress, almost serving as a punishment for cumming without permission and, subsequently, making The Man look bad.

"Alright Carmella, yer up next, care to say a few words before ya violate my whore?"

The Most Beautiful Woman in WWE, according to herself, immediately exclaimed, "Well, of course, I would!" Normally she wouldn't have been able to, given "power bottom" Charlotte's knack for running her mouth and believing control was hers. But, since the blonde, broad-shouldered, and buff brass-ring grabber was still recovering, Mella's little sermon went off without a hitch.

"Beckyyyy, thanks for including me guuuuurl! I mean, obvy that I'd be, like, selected and all that. Like, seriously, look at me, I'm gorgeous, annnnnnnd I fuck a mean butt! But, still, thanks hun, it means a lot!" Carmella exuberantly thanked before turning her attention to the hierarchy's newest bottom.

Asking with a few playful taps to the muscular bum below her, Carmella quizzed, "Char? Hey, Char? You 'wake, gurl?" No response, at least not one that could be interpreted. Merely the deep, jarring groans of a woman desperately trying to piece together her tattered mental state long enough to take another ass fucking.

"Don't bother. She's still strugglin' to recover from her first ass fuckin' from someone else. Just put yer cock in and she'll perk back up," Becky recommended, Mella shooting her an understanding grin and finger point in response. Taking the advice she'd been given, the sassy queen of Staten Island pressed her cock against Charlotte's dilated hole and watched as inch after inch was quickly swallowed up.