The Tigress Wrestling Club Ch. 05

"Whatever you want, sweetie."

She went up on my body and sat on my face. I caught a whiff of her sex as she rotated her hips and rubbed her pussy in my face. A few weak punches to her back were not enough to get her off me.

"Time!" The call came from the sidelines. Samantha got off of me and towered over me. One of the judges walked over and confirmed the result everyone already knew.

"And the winner is Samantha!" Usually girls beamed with pride after they won. There was no ebullience on Samantha's face- only the edge of her lips curled into a slight smile.

"Go get your strap-on. I am going to bring my own toy." With that, Samantha turned and went to her locker room. I did as I was told and retrieved my strap on. The walk seemed like an eternity with thoughts of degrading and painful sex filling my head. I got my toy and walked back, trying to be strong. I hadn't cum on the mat, at the very least. I opened the door to find Samantha right there, twirling a...

Oh shit. Twirling a collar. "On your knees." She snatched my strap-on out of my hand. I hit my knees and Samantha clamped the collar around my neck. It was leather and metal and was tight against my skin. We hadn't even truly started yet and already I was being humiliated. She pushed me down so I was on all fours. A small pedicured foot was right in front of my face and I looked up at her. "Lick it." She commanded. My face was flush with shame as I was forced to humble myself before Samantha. My tongue ran between her toes and all up and down her foot.

Samantha snickered and withdrew her foot. She bounced my strap-on up and down, with a few thrusts of her hips. "You're gonna suck it." I moved up to place my lips on the toy when she took a step back. I scooted forward and she took another step back. I heard her laughing with manic glee as she moved and made me work to suck my own strap-on. She finally let me catch her and thrust the toy into my mouth, hard.

I gagged but could not move back. She placed her hands on my head, forcing me to deep throat the purple toy. I kept trying to gag and spit but she would have my mouth on the toy getting it soaked and prepared to enter my sex. A long tumble of spit fell from my mouth and landed on my breast. After a while of nearly choking on the strap-on, she pushed me down to the mat. She folded my body so my feet were over my shoulders, lay on top of me, and entered me.

I moaned as she plunged the toy into my sex. My pussy was still dripping wet from the match and she pumped my sex sensually. Her face was right above mine and my verdant green eyes met Samantha's pale blues. Her face had an austere sort of intensity as she began to thrust into me, deeper and faster. I tried to maintain eye contact as much as I could, but soon I was lolling from the pleasure of it. Samantha was a love goddess with the toy; I was grabbing at the mat like a bedsheet trying to dig into it. I could feel waves of pleasure and submissiveness washing over me. My legs would have shaken with pleasure had Samantha not held them firmly in place.

Samantha's grunts and my loud moans echoed around the room only punctuated by the constant shlick-schlick-schlick of the toy entering me. Samantha's stare was constant even as I craned my neck and arched my back. My pleasure was obvious and Samantha knew it; they fact that I was trying to stave off an orgasm was obvious as well and Samantha responded with deeper and stronger thrusts.

The toy found my g-spot and I could not hold back my screams of pleasure. I squirted all over my belly and Samantha took a step back, admiring her handiwork as my legs flopped to the ground. I thought she would give me a moment's respite but the raven-haired woman had other plans. She stood over me and pulled my legs up. My own toy entered me again as she squatted and I let out a breathy moan. My body formed a C- I didn't even know what this position was called, but I knew it was degrading. She exited me and entered me again sending tingles down my spine. She began to work her hips so that she kept entering my sex and exiting it completely, giving me the first sensation over and over.

The position was so humiliating and painful that I wanted to just disappear. I was forced to watch myself get fucked and Samantha found a rhythm that had me groaning in ecstasy. Her thrusts were not light and put me in a considerable amount of pain. She let me flail my legs from the pleasure and seemed to take a sick satisfaction from what she was doing to me. Her intensity was sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body and she was skillfully building another orgasm very quickly.

"Say my name." Samantha demanded, going deeper than she had before.

All I could do was moan. Samantha had taken the proud fighter girl from me. I was just a doll for Samantha's perverse pleasure now.

Samantha removed the toy from me and held my legs up. "Say my name."

"Samantha!" I blurted out.

Samantha gave me one strong thrust and that was enough to give me an earth-shattering mind numbing orgasm. A deluge of my honey came from my sex, staining my face with shame. My wetness was making my freckles glow in the light of the gym and a fair bit got on the collar still clasped firmly around my neck. Samantha let my legs to the mat and put her foot on my chest. I was panting with exhaustion. My abs and legs and core were all hurting from the two mind blowing orgasms I had just received and Samantha was displaying her dominance over me with a foot on my chest.

It didn't look like Samantha's desires had been satiated, and she went back to working me. Without saying a word, Samantha put me doggy style. She spanked me tender ass a few times before entering my sex. A clump of my red hair was enough of a handle to pull my head back.

"Come zoom in on her face. It still has her own cum on it." She ordered the woman with the camera. The camerawoman moved closer to me and I remembered that many people online would witness my shame during the match and afterwards. Those thoughts were soon out of my mind, replaced with pure pleasure. I began mewling like some animal in heat as Samantha began to do her magic. My toes curled as she went deeper and deeper inside of me. Sweat dripped from my body as Samantha sent tingles of pleasure up my spine. My mouth was agape and I drooled all over the mat.

I felt a hand on my hip, guiding my body against her toy. Every muscle in my body tensed up as I prepared myself for the next orgasm. My legs shook violently and my chest quivered. My strap-on entered me deeply and my moans filled the room. My breaths were becoming shallow, almost nothing at all as I felt it coming on. My whole body was a dam that was about to burst until I felt Samantha enter me with one ultimate thrust. Three things happened at once: I felt the most intense sexual pleasure I had ever felt, more honey than I thought I had ran down my thigh, and I passed out.

I am not sure how much time had passed. When I woke up I nearly choked on the strap-on, which Samantha must have shoved in my mouth. I tried to get up only to collapse back down to the floor, a quivering heap of fucked-beyond-belief redhead. I removed the soaking wet strap-on from my mouth and looked around. The room was completely empty, save me. My second attempt to get up went better than the first, and I shuffled to my locker room strap-on in hand. Stretching and getting into my clothes was incredibly difficult. And when I pulled my shirt on, I felt the stretched leather and cold metal of the collar still around my neck and sighed.

I grabbed my stuff and did my best to hobble out of the gym. Progress was slow and grinding. I ran in to Rebecca who looked at me and held her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. I glared at her. How dare she laugh at my collar? I made my way out to my awful car and threw my stuff in the backseat with a huff. I jerked my car along the road back home and managed to get up the stairs to my apartment. All I wanted to do was sleep for a day and forget about everything that just happened to me. I took off my clothes and hopped in my bathroom and found the reason Rebecca was laughing at me.

Samantha had written 'Samantha's Pet' across my forehead in black marker. I discovered that she had written slut across my ass and written property of Samantha with an arrow pointing to my pussy across my belly. I stepped into the cold shower. All of Samantha's little proclamations took forever to scrub off.

I didn't feel like going to the gym for the rest of the weekend. I didn't want to show my face, didn't want to have to face down my humiliation on the mat. Instead I stayed at home trying to do a little research. The Tigress Wrestling Club was an incredibly easy site to find and was a lot more popular than I had imagined. It also had an impressive backlog with every match stretching back at least a few years. There was a way to find all of a certain wrestler's matches and Samantha's were incredibly popular. I looked through a few.

Not only had she won every match she had ever fought but she had won easy. A vast majority of the women she wrestled with hadn't scored a single pin or submission on her. Hell, no one except me managed to get her bikini top or bottom off, which I took a reserved sort of pride in. And she had found a hundred and one ways to fuck the women she defeated. Erin had brought one of her girlfriend's along to watch, and Samantha asked for a threeway if she won. Lo and behold Samantha trounced Erin and the girl squealed as she was fucked with two massive strap-ons. She collared every woman she beat and I ran my hand over my leather and metal collar, thinking of how to get it off.

And then I found Angel's match with Samantha. She seemed full of confidence before the match and demanded thirty minutes of round four. I looked on in horror as Samantha swept the floor with Angel. Samantha twisted Angel's limbs almost beyond recognition and played with her pussy until she had a loud heaving orgasm in the middle of the fight. In the bonus round Samantha collared her and pulled out a small makeshift pillory without the pole and slapped Angel in it. The strong Latina was face down ass up the whole time. Samantha ravaged her pussy and ass until Angel couldn't take it any more and passed out like I did. The raven-haired woman then wrote all sorts of embarrassing things on Angel's body.

I burned with indignation, for myself and for my friend. No one had even come close to putting Samantha in her place. She owned the gym and all of us. I paced around my apartment thinking of things to do. I worked up quite a bit of sweat trying to work out from home but I knew it wouldn't be enough. I needed strength and quickness, triple what I had now if I wanted to even try to beat Samantha. And that would require going to the gym. That, and I could ask her to take my collar off.

I pulled up to the Tigress on Monday. I didn't have my, err, sea legs at that point anymore and was walking like a decent human being. I found a shirt with a collar and turned it up, trying to conceal my real collar. My bag was slung over my shoulder and as I entered, the secretary smiled.

"Is Samantha here?" I asked.

The secretary gave a slight chuckle. "Why, of course she is. She is in her office."

I wanted to smack that smile right off her face. And she fed me that of course she is nonsense...ugh. I made my way to Samantha's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" came the reply.

I opened the door and glanced at Samantha. She was wearing a white blouse and a pencil skirt. A pair of glasses rested at the end of her nose and she was steepling her fingers. As much as I tried, I couldn't look her in the eye. The memories of the humiliating things she did to me came flooding back. I sat against the chair and tried to forget.

"Hello, Rachel." Her voice was smooth and bubbling with confidence. She remembered the humiliation as well.

My eyes were glued to the floor. "Can you get this collar off of me?" I mumbled. My shoulders were slumped and I clutched my bag.

Samantha crossed the desk and sat against it, almost on top of me. She caressed the side of my face and I looked up into her blue eyes. "Let me tell you something about women. There are two kinds of women in this world. The first kind, which is far more common, are submissives. They are weak and feeble. They aim to please and offer themselves up like a pig on a platter. Or a whore on a bed." I grimaced and she gave a slight chuckle. "The second kind, my kind, are dominant. Whatever we want, we take..." Samantha began to play with my red hair. I didn't stop her. "And wherever we are, we own. Dominants fuck, and submissives get fucked. Now, I am a dominant woman and you are a submissive who thinks she is a dominant." She put a finger on my lip, silencing any protest. "And I am here to correct that.

I collared you to show you what you are. A pathetic whore who deserves nothing more than the chance to please dominants, to lick our feet, so to speak. So I will take your collar off when you hit rock bottom. When you please me in such a way that is so demeaning, so humiliating that every fiber of your being will tell you not to do it out of pride. But you are submissive. And I will not tolerate pride out of you."

Samantha ran her hand down my neck and played with my collar.

"Or you can quit," she continued, "You can say you want out. Then I will take off your collar and banish you from this place. You will never be allowed here back again to wrestle or work out or anything. Most girls can't take the heat. Most girls don't realize that only by submitting completely can they begin to dominate completely. And most girls don't belong here. You must be built up from nothing, and I will be the sculptor. So the choice is yours. Do you want to submit? Or do you want to quit?"

I mulled over my two options in silence. The collar was humiliating and I wanted it off as soon as possible. And the easiest way to do that would be to quit and be done with it. But the money here was so good and I wouldn't have any opportunities like this ever again. I wouldn't be able to train my body or pin and fuck girls on the mat. And there was that stuff about being built like Samantha was also quite appealing...

"I will do it. I will submit." I said.

She patted me on the cheek. "I knew you would say that." She got off the desk and went back to her chair. "First of all, you may no longer address me as Samantha. Until you have your collar taken off, you will address me as Mistress. Second of all, while you are here, you will wear this." From one of the drawers in the desk, she produced the smallest pink bikini I had ever seen in my life. The top was little more than strings and the bottom had the word 'whore' in big white letters written across the booty.

I blanched at it. "You want me to wear that?"

"Yes," Samanta said in a mean tone, "That, or be naked, or quit. The choice is yours."

I looked down again, and grabbed my new clothes and stormed off. What sort of woman would do such a thing? I wanted to throw them right back in her face then and there but held back. I tried to regulate my breathing to calm myself. The changing room might as well have been a thousand miles away and the desire to turn back was always there. But I powered through it and changed into my awful bimbo bikini.

I had to hype myself up to enter out onto the gym floor. When I finally did, I earned a few stares. Some faces were sympathetic but most were mocking. I could hear everyone whispering what I assumed to be contumelious things to one another. Angel spotted me and walked up.

"So I figured out who your third loss was." I said.

Angel gave a small dark laugh at my joke. "All the girls that fought her went through with it. It is her own little way of making us all Tigresses."

"But is this," I motioned at my skimpy outfit, "really necessary?"

Angel shook her head. She had on a loose black shirt and was a ball of sweat but still looked stunningly beautiful. "It is her own perverse way of telling you that you should be confident, no matter what you are wearing."

"Yeah, cool, I heard they do these sorts of things at Buddhist temples."

Angel smiled. "I would have told you about it. But if someone tells beforehand, they get another match with Samantha, and another collar."

"You mean you didn't want to be a slave bimbo buddy with me?" I didn't mean to be so sarcastic. It just came out.

Angel gave another chuckle. "And sarcasm is helping?"

"We all have our coping mechanisms."

"Well," Angel led me by my arm to the weights, "Let's go cope. I will spot you."

I worked out harder than I ever had before. The weights went up and down with fury and Angel often looked like she was quite impressed. I lifted more, ran farther, squatted more, and biked farther. I was going to prove to Samantha that I had what it took to belong to the Tigress Wrestling Club, no matter what it took.

I appreciated the fact that I turned a few heads during my workout. I finished strong and headed to the showers. Angel was done and I hugged her good bye and headed to the locker room. I threw that odious pink bikini in my locker, wrapped a towel around myself and headed to the showers. My towel was hung over the curtain rod and I was enjoying ridding myself of the stink and bad feelings. And then I saw a mop of black hair over the shower curtain.

Sure enough Samantha threw open the shower curtain and stepped in. She was in the nude and looked like was created as a model for pure feminine beauty. Her hips had a supple curve and her head was high and proud. Her chest was as beautiful as it had been during our match and every muscle was perfection. She had a healthy bush, as dark as the hair on her head.

"Hello, Rachel." I tried to cover up, to hide my breasts and sex from her. She reached over and slapped me across the face. "I will see you." I held my hands at my sides, defeated. She closed the shower curtain behind her and looked at my body. I bit my lip and awaited her judgment.

It came in the form of a step forward and her arms wrapping me in an embrace. She was taller than me and bent her neck so slightly to kiss me. Her body pushed my body against the wall and she grabbed my leg and forced me to wrap it around her. I felt her slow hip thrusts, grinding me into a submissive redhead paste. I was disgusted with myself for getting turned on but I could not deny my body.

She introduced her tongue into my mouth and I tried to give her some tongue back. She withdrew and smacked me hard across the face. "I am kissing you. You are not kissing me."

"Y-yes mistress.." I stammered.

With that she went back to kissing me. I could feel her passion, her dominance. She withdrew again. "On your knees."

I hit my knees. If this is where she loved to have me, this is where I would be. She lifted one of her perfect legs up and hung it over my shoulder with her sex right in my face. "Eat."

I tried to turn my hatred at being submissive into passion and lust and the moans Samantha was giving informed me that I wasn't so wrong in doing so. I rolled my tongue over and over Samantha's clitoris and gave it a few sucks. The moans combined with the slurping of my mistress' sex were loud in the small confines of the shower. I was sure that girls in the other showers could hear me trying to please my domme and my face burned with humiliation. My tongue spelled the word submissive on Samantha's clit and across her pedals and Samantha liked it.

Samantha's leg tightened and I heard a soft laugh. She removed her leg from my shoulder and I looked up at her.

"Is this rock bottom?" I asked in a soft voice.

"Not even close."

I moved onto my butt, sitting on the floor of the small shower and looked up at Samantha. She put her hand on her chin as she searched me up and down.