No Holds Barred in Munich

As promised.

Steeling herself, she went inside.

It was actually an open-plan suite rather than a mere room. One wall was all glass, giving a view of the illuminated city below. She ignored the décor and the sights. Her attention was fixed on the woman she'd come to see.

Victoria slowly rose to her feet. She was dressed much as she'd dressed for the TV interview, although tonight's gypsy-style blouse was green rather than white.

'Well,' she said.

The Sioux took a pace towards her then dropped to her knees and crawled the rest of the way, kissing a pair of shiny black boots when she got there.

'I'm so sorry, Mistress,' she wailed. 'I've been a bad girl. Punish me. Please, please punish me.'

*****

'What debt?' Trish wondered, perplexed.

'The one you owe for imprisoning me in Colorado,' said Erin. 'I always get even. And the way I see it there are three of you who have to pay. I'm not counting that security bastard who wanted the sheriff to lock me up. Who is he, by the way?'

'I'm not telling you. You hold too many grudges.'

'Fair enough,' said Erin, grinning. 'Okay, so the plan was to sue the ass off you: that is you, the Commissioner and Mickie. And before you say it, I know the Commissioner wasn't involved. But it was his chalet and he's richer than you two, so why not?'

'I'd say because he wasn't there and doesn't even know about the handcuffs.'

'Relax, Trishy-baby. I know you're all protective about him but he's off the hook. I'm classing the scoops and the TV exposure as his payment in full. And Mickie's paid up as well, so don't worry about her either.'

'How did she pay?'

'Don't say she hasn't told you.'

'I haven't seen her since I set off for Boston.'

'Okay, this is between me and you, right? She fucked me six ways from Sunday. In fact she made me wonder why I've only been fucking men these last few years. You could say she gave me my appetite back.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' said Trish, 'but you shouldn't have been in Colorado anyway. I don't agree there's a debt to settle.'

'You mean you won't let me in on your training regime? Not even if I swear I'll keep schtum until after the fight? It'll add colour to my report, you know; the one that's going on every front page in the world when you win.'

'What do you mean by letting you in?'

'I want to come along and watch for a few days. I'll record all the blood, sweat and tears. And I'm not joking about adding colour; I'll use what I see to describe you as a superb athlete as well as a prime piece of ass.'

Trish couldn't see any harm in that. Publicity was always welcome. And she did feel slightly guilty about Colorado.

'That will make us quits, will it?' she said.

'Yes it'll make us quits . . . if you let me stay here and fuck you every night as well.'

Chapter Seven

The Sioux was on all-fours on Victoria's enormous bed. Her wrists were bound with bondage rope and attached to the bedhead by a second rope. Her ankles were bound too, but they hadn't been additionally attached to anything. She could have stretched out full-length but she didn't. Victoria wanted her to be in this submissive position, so in it she would stay.

I'm a bad girl, she thought, I deserve it.

And fuck me, don't I want it!

A blindfold and ball gag prevented her from seeing and speaking. She wondered where Vic was and what was taking her so long. She desperately wanted to be punished. Then again, being made to wait was a punishment in itself. She was as aroused and ready as she'd ever been.

A hand suddenly grasped her right tit, squeezing it hard. She yelped more in shock than pain. All that came out was a nasal whimper.

'So Honeybuns has come crawling home,' Vic said.

No, she's not "Vic" when she's punishing me, The Sioux reminded herself, she's very, very much "Victoria".

'Just look at you, Honeybuns, you're shaking. And you're ruining my bed-sheets. That's very bad of you. And as if you're not in enough trouble already!'

Victoria let go her tit and silence ensued. The Sioux listened intently but heard nothing. She must be barefoot on the deep-piled carpet. By now she could be anywhere.

The slap startled her, even though she'd been longing for it. Smack, right on the ass! It was soon followed by another in exactly the same place. And then another.

'I've a good mind to leave it at that,' Victoria said. 'Bad girls like you enjoy being smacked. They enjoy being flogged too.'

The Sioux felt something cool and hard running along her pussy. It had to be her special riding crop: the black leather one with a cat-o-nine tails on the end. She came convulsively at the very thought of it. That crop was best she had. And Victoria knew how to use it better than anyone; she had taken to it like a duck to water.

'Look at you,' Victoria repeated. 'You're ruining my bed, you naughty girl.'

The Sioux came again when all nine of the leather tails hit the other side of her ass. She couldn't help it; this was too good for words.

Dropping the dialogue, Victoria set to work, sometimes smacking, sometimes lashing. She did it as well as always, not too soft but never too hard. The build-up of pain was exquisite. The Sioux knew her backside must be glowing red. She also knew she'd soon reach the point where even the touch of a feather would bring instant agony.

God, this was so, so good!

*****

Trish was surprised how easily she'd agreed to Erin's demand; surprised but glad she had. They were in her bed, an hour's worth of pussy-eating under the reporter's belt, about to indulge in a bit of sixty-nine.

Not that she was knocking it. Erin claimed that, until Mickie had her, she'd long been abstentious as far as women were concerned. There was no obvious sign that that was true. The girl went at sex like a bull at a gate . . . but a very skilful bull; there was nothing at all clumsy about her.

And what was she at thinking of her as a "girl"? Erin had to be ten years older than she was.

It's her size, she thought. It's hard to think of her as a woman when she looks like she's not out of her teens.

Then the cynical part of her started to speculate.

She's dated lots and lots of men, famous ones, mostly. Maybe she's tiny down below, like she's tiny everywhere else. Men like tight little pussies, don't they? Maybe that's her secret. Maybe that is what keeps them coming for her . . . or cumming for her!

The opportunity to test the theory was right there, literally an inch in front of her face. Courtesy of her petiteness, Erin was on top, already busily munching away. Trish usually tended to mirror her lover's actions when doing this particular deed. Instead, she circled her tongue around Erin's opening before popping it inside.

Mmmm, she was right. How nice and very tight!

*****

Victoria finished her smacking and flogging session by fucking The Sioux long and hard with an extra-large strap-on. Now, unfastened, gag and blindfold removed, The Sioux smiled. She was cradled in Vic's arms, sucking her nipple and hadn't felt so good in ages. Okay, so her ass was on fire, but everything else was just fine.

She mentally chuckled. Victoria didn't do small when it came to strap-ons. No doubt she believed that if she'd been born as a bloke her dick would have been biggest. And knowing her, it probably would have been!

'Okay, Suzanne, what's the plan?'

Still sucking on Victoria's nipple, The Sioux flicked her eyes up to her face. Only her mother ever called her "Suzanne" and only then when she was in deep shit. Before WWE she'd always been "Sue" or (exclusively to lovers at college) "Suzy".

'I mean it looks to me you want it both ways,' Victoria went on. 'You've got the fairy tale princess but still want to be fucked by the wicked witch.'

The Sioux finally let go of the nipple. 'It's not like that, Mistress . . .'

'Yes it is. And drop that "Mistress" crap. You've had what you came for. Now fuck off out of here.'

The Sioux stared back at her. 'You don't mean that.'

'Don't I?' Victoria's laugh did sound witchlike. 'Do you think I don't have feelings?'

'I thought you liked our games,' The Sioux said carefully. 'And, seeing as I really have been a bad girl for once . . .'

'Stop talking baloney, Honeybuns. You're here because Princess Trish doesn't sing off your sheet and I do.'

'You're confusing how it is between me and Trish.'

'Am I? Am I confused when I think you'll be her valet in Sacramento? Am I confused when I think you'll be handing her the belt if she wins?' Victoria's latest laugh was even more of a cackle. 'You betrayed me, Honeybuns. I just fucked you out of sympathy. Now fuck off out of my sight.'

The Sioux got out of bed and dressed quickly, determined not to cry. She was halfway to the door when Victoria's voice rang out again.

'I photographed you, you know.'

Heart in mouth, The Sioux turned. 'You're making that up.'

Victoria waved a new-looking cell phone at her. 'It's state-of-the-art. And it has an option to show a date and time. That's why I was so keen on the blindfold. I got you at ten minute intervals.'

'But why would you do such a thing?'

'I don't know . . . yet. But I have a few ideas. Now fuck off or I'll send a couple of samples to Trish right away.'

*****

Trish was showing Erin her selection of toys when the doorbell went. She clicked on the intercom and asked who it was.

'It's me, Armand. Who else could it be?'

'Come on in,' she said. 'I'm about to shower. Help yourself to coffee. I won't be long.'

'Who's Armand?' asked Erin. 'Is he your secret lover?'

'He's keeping the secret very well if he is.' Trish chuckled. 'Come on, let's shower then go shock him with my sexuality.'

Trish's spare bathrobe totally engulfed Erin. Giggling together, the two of them made their way to the kitchen, finding their visitor refilling his cup.

'Armand, this is Erin from New York. Erin, this is my personal trainer, Armand.'

The bronzed god's eyes narrowed. 'I know you! You're Erin Brook, my favourite journalist of all time!'

'Pleased to meet ya,' said Erin. 'And excuse the gown; it's one of hers.'

'I don't believe it. I read everything you ever write. And my mother's your biggest fan. She's the one who introduced you to me, if you know what I mean.'

Trish sighed. Armand didn't seem to realize he'd caught them in flagrante. And she was meant to be the superstar in this household, not Erin.

'I'm glad you like my work,' the reporter said.

'I honestly, sincerely do. Is there anything big in the pipeline?'

'There's a gay baseball player coming out tomorrow. Otherwise it's the usual stuff.'

'A gay baseball player,' Armand cooed. 'You just have to tell me who he is.'

'I'm sorry, I can't. It's more of an exposé than an actual coming out.'

'You can't even give me his team?' Armand's eyes gleamed. 'I bet he plays for the Royals.'

Trish sighed again. 'Why does it matter if he's gay? And who cares what team he plays for?'

'It matters because there are one or two players I've got my eye on,' Armand said shamelessly, 'along with that beautiful big, black bodyguard of yours.'

'Do you mean Fred?' Erin grinned mischievously. 'Keep your hands off him, Armand. He's mine. He just doesn't know it yet.'

Trish laughed at the image of Erin writhing under the massive frame of the security guard. 'Hands off both of you,' she said.

They turned on her and spoke as one: 'Have you?'

'No!' she laughed. 'It would be unprofessional.'

'Maybe it would be for you,' Erin said, sharp as always, 'but not for us.'

Chapter Eight

A week had passed. The Sioux was back in England, in Newcastle this time. She was due in the ring with Mari-Lyn next day and was trying to have an early night. But sleep wasn't going to come easily; she'd been suffering from insomnia ever since Munich.

For the thousandth time she tried to put her thoughts in order. She loved Trish and, although no vows had been taken, she should have been faithful to her. Throwing herself at Victoria had been a big mistake. If she really had to be flogged, she should have hired a call girl instead. What was done was done, though. And at least it was all over with Victoria. She should just forget about her and get on with her life. In fact she would get on with her life . . . if it wasn't for those photos.

The Sioux wondered if a glass of wine would help her drop off. Her bout wasn't until late, so she wouldn't be breaking any rules.

At first she thought she'd imagined the knock on her door. Hotel security was excluding fans and it was getting late, anyway. Then the knock came again. Knowing it had to be a colleague from WWE she pulled on a dressing gown and answered it.

'Hello Honeybuns,' said Victoria as she swept into the room.

The Sioux closed the door and took a deep breath. This visit was unwanted as well as entirely unexpected.

Victoria was examining her surroundings. She was for once wearing a dress; a sexy red number that showed off her bare shoulders and legs as well as most of her tits.

'Nice room,' she said. 'And why aren't you on your knees?'

'I'm not playing that game anymore,' The Sioux said bravely. 'And you're not welcome here.'

'Get on your fucking knees, you slut.'

The Sioux shook her head but her heart sank. She wanted to be defiant but knew only too well what was coming.

'You will play any game I want you to play,' said Victoria. 'You know what'll happen if you don't.'

That clearly meant she'd use the photos in one horrible way or another. Wishing she'd toughed it out and told Trish (knowing she could never have done so), The Sioux slumped to her knees.

'There's a good girl. Follow me.'

Victoria strutted across the room and sat on a white leather settee, crossing her legs. The Sioux crawled after her.

'I think a little foot worship is in order.' Victoria smiled and pointed to her red stilettos. 'Come on, Honeybuns. Don't keep me waiting.'

The Sioux had kissed Victoria's boots before but never her feet. Repulsed by the idea but afraid of being exposed, she removed one of her heels. Vic's foot smelt of new shoe leather.

'Kiss it properly,' Victoria chided. 'I want you to shower it with kisses. That's better. Now, run your tongue over my sole. That's right. Do it again.' She giggled. 'That tickles but it feels good. Okay, now it's time to suck my toes. Do them one at a time. No, not like that; pretend you're sucking a cock. You should be good at that, shouldn't you, you fucking slut.'

She wasn't admitting it, but The Sioux had sucked a few cocks in her time. She actually liked the act and didn't find it at all demeaning. Doing it made her feel powerful. Perhaps she'd been lucky with her choice of men, but they'd all been submissive and grateful when she'd eaten them. And they'd all cum, of course, some of them more than once.

Victoria's toes weren't like cocks (obviously!). They didn't have zillions of nerve-endings for her to stimulate with her lips, teeth and tongue. They were, however, just as shapely as the rest of her, and the red nail varnish was glittery and sexy.

The Sioux felt a sudden rush of excitement. This wasn't so bad after all.

*****

Trish was letting Erin fuck her goodbye. Their time together had been enjoyable and the sex had kept getting better. It was a shame she couldn't stay a little longer but her office in New York had started sending out search parties. It was time to let go.

Well, it would be when she finished. No way was she letting go of her at this particular moment!

They were currently in the missionary position. Erin was wearing a strap-on and had already had her in twenty different, exciting ways. This one was for keepsies though. She was more bull-at-a-gate-ish than ever and they were both steadily getting ready to cum.

Trish wrapped her legs around the petite reporter's back and gripped her slender ass even tighter than she'd been gripping it before. Over the last week they'd become expert at making each other orgasm; absolutely expert. And more to the point, they'd become proficient in getting off mutually . . . like they were about to any minute now.

Here she goes, she thought.

'Not yet, not yet,' Erin grunted.

It was hard to tell if she was speaking to herself or to her lover. Trish hung on anyway, bringing her groin up to meet an increasing rapid series of thrusts. The dildo banged into her again and again, its progress marked by a sequence of hollow and squelchy thunks.

Then suddenly Trish was out of her body, looking down on a copulating couple. And Erin was up there with her. They had no physical being but were somehow entwined. And they were soaring higher and higher, the house disappearing beneath them as they reached the heavens.

And then they exploded in a golden shower, like thousands of fireworks on a New Year's Eve spectacular.

*****

The Sioux couldn't believe the night had ended like this. She could not fucking believe it!

How stupid she had been. She'd diligently sucked all ten of Victoria's toes, making "Mistress" purr with pleasure, making herself wet in the process. And then she'd stayed on her knees begging for a little more punishment. Yes she'd begged and begged and begged.

When Victoria ordered her to lie of her back she'd thought she was due a special treat. In other words she'd thought she was in for a pussy whipping. That was a pleasure she had only ever had once before, and then not at Victoria's hands. And not with her wonderful cat, come to that. She'd literally creamed herself while her wrists were being bound. And she certainly hadn't resisted the gag and blindfold.

She'd even laughed at the risk of more photos. She was photographically fucked as it was; what would a few more matter?

But Victoria hadn't whipped her anywhere. She climbed on board and taken her with another of her extra-large strap-ons; taken her even harder than she usually did, getting her own satisfaction but leaving her unfulfilled.

And then she'd left her altogether.

The Sioux was still tied, blinded and gagged. Victoria must have arrived around ten o'clock. She must have been toe-sucking for at least an hour. Tying her hadn't taken long and fucking her had only lasted a few minutes. And she'd heard the door close behind her mistress . . . say half an hour ago. What did that make it? Was it midnight yet?

She knew in her heart that Victoria wasn't coming back. She was stuck there on the bed, unable to call for help in any way. God only knew who would find her and when. Chances were it would be a WWE colleague and she'd never live it down. Or, worse, it would be a chambermaid; one who was underpaid and only too ready to sell the story.

The headlines were only too easy to imagine: "WWE DIVA IN STEAMY SEX ROMP".

But wait a minute, this was the UK. The press here had no respect for anything. Even the serious broadsheets had been known to go for the witty, attention-grabbing banner; and as for the red-top tabloids . . .

Well, she'd be lucky to get away with "diva" and "steamy".

And she'd never felt less lucky in her life.

*****

Falling back to earth was a slow, gentle experience, like feathers floating down from on high on a windless afternoon. Eventually Trish arrived back in the bedroom, catching a glimpse of her body still cumming violently with Erin's.

Then she was back inside herself, laughing and gasping for air.

'That was just amazing,' she said breathlessly.

'Yeah,' her lover agreed, 'I excelled myself there.'

'Did you . . .'

'Float away on the air? Yeah, I think I did.'

'Did you really?'

'I'm not going to swear it on oath but yeah, for a second there I really was floating.'

Trish stared up into Erin's face. 'That was a best-ever for me. Promise you'll do it again sometime soon.'

'I'm not going to do it again sometime soon,' Erin grinned at her, 'I'm going to do it again right now.'