The Arena

A teenager takes on the champion.


The time has finally arrived.

I stand in the arena, awaiting your entrance. The amphitheater is filled to
capacity and hundreds of thousands are watching on pay-per-view. I lean my
slender body back on the padded wall, shaking back my long blonde hair as I
adjust the straps on my red bikini top. The nipples on my smallish breasts,
hardening with anticipation, poke out from beneath the thin fabric.

I can hear the announcers' voices over the anxious buzz of the crowd. One is
amazed I actually showed up. Neither of them give me any chance whatsoever
against you. A nineteen year old, little more than a schoolgirl, half your
size and with only a fraction of your experience; their question is not if I
can win but how badly I will lose, how much punishment you will choose to
inflict upon me before you finish me off. I am obviously no match for you. I
saw you on TV weeks ago, laughing about how easy it was going to be to "shred
the skinny little bitch." You smiled that you'd wear your dancing shoes to the
fight since you'd be finished in plenty of time to hit the nightclubs.
Everyone laughed, amused by the thought of me being here. But here I stand,
waiting for you to come get me.

It's show time.

The crowd noise builds as the curtains part, becoming a loud roar as you step
through them and move down the ramp towards the arena. You're so big, so
muscular. You wear your thick, dark mane loosely over your big shoulders. Your
famous 6' 1" frame is barely covered with a tiny black string bikini. Your
large, firm breasts jiggle slightly as you strut slowly down the ramp, waving
at the admiring audience. True to your word, you wear a pair of 3" high heels
instead of your usual lace-up boots. They accentuate the huge, sinewy muscles
in your calves, thighs and buttocks. You continue to smile and wave, soaking
up the adoration of your countless fans.

You pause to strike a muscle pose, your left arm extended upward, your right
bent to show off your massive 18" bicep. Your lats flare out and the muscles
in your magnificent back rise, looking as if they were chiseled in granite.
You truly define the word Amazon. The crowd goes wild. They have seen it so
many times before, and watched in awe as you destroyed and humiliated much
worthier opponents than me. The anticipation has been building, and they're
ready to watch you toy with the skinny wimp who foolishly dared to challenge
their muscular goddess. They've been imagining for months how badly you will
batter me, what horrible degradations you will force me to suffer through.
They are anxious to find out.

You finish your show and stride closer as I come out to the center of the
arena to meet you. You tower over me, a good 10 inches taller in your heels
and 70 lbs. heavier. I look so insignificant standing close to you; so puny.
You look down at me calmly with a playful grin, but there is menace in your
dark eyes and in the power that seems to emanate from your hugely muscled
body. The announcers are speaking of how intimidated I must feel. They are
mistaken, it's not fear or intimidation that runs through me; it's excitement.
The public address announcer is listing the rules of the match, which are
basically that rules don't exist. The match is over when the victor decides
it's over; short of inflicting death, the loser is hers to do with as she
pleases. I shiver with sexual arousal at the thought. I have wanted nothing
more than to be where I stand right now, gazing up into your fierce, prideful
eyes.

The audience roars its approval as the word is given, "Begin!" I take a step
back and begin to slowly circle you, my hands up, trying to anticipate your
first move. You turn where you stand to continue facing me, your massive arms
at your sides, the grin still playing on your full, red lips. "Kill her!"
shouts a voice from the crowd, "Crush the skinny bitch!" comes another. I
continue circling and you continue turning, looking me up and down as if
choosing which part of my body to begin having your sadistic pleasure with.

Suddenly you reach towards my head, but I duck to one side and quickly slap
your hand away. You reach again, faster this time, but I'm still able to evade
your grasp and meet your wrist in mid air with my open palm. Your eyebrows
rise; you are surprised by my speed and the force of my blows, but your smile
just grows wider, your eyes brighter. We continue our dance as the world
watches, ready for you to begin your destruction of me.

You take a swing at my head, but I duck under it and bring my fist up hard
into the underside of your large breast. You gasp and step back, then try to
quickly repeat the move. The result is the same, my hand disappearing deep
into your soft flesh. With a grunt of pain you stagger back. The buzz in the
amphitheater quiets. The crowd is already becoming impatient. "C'mon!" cries a
voice, "take it to her!" You no longer look bemused. Your face flushes red
with anger.

You swing again, but you're simply too slow and I grab your huge arm with my
left hand and drive a knee into your chiseled midsection. You grunt in
frustration more than pain as you double over slightly, and before you can
react I whip your arm away and slam my right fist into your cheek in one
fluid, spinning motion. With a yelp of pain your head snaps to one side as you
stumble backward. I stay with you, grab the front of your bikini top and again
drive my knee into your rock hard abdomen, bringing a loud, collective moan
from the audience. I release my grip as your feet come out from under you,
sending you face first to the mat, your huge breasts mashed out beneath your
v-shaped back. I can hear the announcers begin talking about how ineffective
you seem against me. You can hear them too, and you slap the mat with both
hands in frustration.

Rising to one knee, you turn and try to get up as quickly as possible. While
you're still crouched low I step forward and drive my knee into your jaw,
snapping your head back sharply. Another loud moan fills the amphitheater. Now
you look stunned. I've actually hurt you. You look at me with murderous
hatred. "Bitch," you hiss as you shake your head, trying to clear the cobwebs.
My excitement grows even stronger.

I keep coming at you. I drive my fists into your high cheekbones, as hard as I
possibly can; one-two, one-two. I move too fast for you to stop me; you're
unable to defend yourself, your head totally wide open to my attack. It whips
back and forth on your broad shoulders as the sound of my knuckles meeting
your face echoes through the arena. I pause, imagining how embarrassed you
must feel as you slump to your side, still on your knees, propping yourself up
with one massive arm. The skin on your left cheek is split; a trickle of blood
is running down your face. I taunt you, "Is this all you got, big girl?" I
look down with a smile of satisfaction at the damage I've been able to inflict
upon you.

I move behind you as you struggle to shake it off and rise to your feet. You
manage to stand but your legs are unsteady, your senses still clouded. Before
you realize where I am I pounce on your back, wrapping my slender legs around
you and pinning your muscular arms at your sides. Crooking my left arm around
your neck, I begin pummeling your head with my right, over and over. Your
hulking body shudders with each blow. You stagger around the arena in your
high heels, your huge biceps bulging as you try with all your might to pry me
loose, but I cinch myself up farther on your back and tighten my hold. I keep
slamming my fist into your head, each punch now bringing a short squeal of
pain from you.

You begin to realize you're helpless. It's unthinkable; the muscle goddess
champion getting the shit knocked out of her by a skinny little teenaged girl,
in front of the entire world. As I press my hard little body against your
massive back I sense a strange feeling from you. Your defiance is ebbing. You
seem conflicted, as though a part of you is hesitant to stop me. I look down
over your brawny shoulders and see that your nipples are rock hard through
your flimsy bikini top. I smile as I wrap my legs around you even tighter and
put my mouth close to your ear. "Oooo ... does the big, bad Amazon like
getting her ass kicked in front of all these people?" I ask in a low, sexy
voice. I flick my tongue in your ear and feel you shudder. "Does it make you
hot?" You quickly turn your head away with disgust, more at yourself than at
me.

I grip the sides of your face with both hands and dig my fingers into the
corners of your mouth, then jerk your head back hard, like a mare with a bit
in her mouth. "Giddy up, big girl," I say with a smile. I pull your head to
the right and your upper body twists around with it, causing you to
instinctively stagger in that direction. A hard pull to the left causes you to
change course, almost tripping over your own feet as you move the other way.
How degrading for you! I guide you around the arena this way, riding you like
some magnificent beast. It arouses me so to control you this way. Feeling your
muscular body move beneath me, rubbing against my erect nipples and moist
crotch, just adds to my pleasure. Each hard pull on your aching lips causes
you to whimper in pain and humiliation. Your eyes are welling with tears. The
crowd is stunned into quiet murmurs witnessing your embarrassing predicament.

Your knees buckle and I ride you down to a kneeling position, releasing you
from my legs and standing behind you. I grab a handful of your thick, dark
hair to prevent you from falling forward. You kneel there at my feet, your
arms limp, gasping for breath. I dig the fingers of my other hand into your
hair and drive the ball of my foot into your kidneys. Then again; and again;
your back arches with each kick, the muscles in your chiseled ass contract as
it rises off your calves. Your powerful arms flail about as if made of rubber.
The audience moans loudly with each blow, shocked that their once invincible
champion seems so helpless against a little girl.

I bend down and again put my mouth to your ear. "Let's give 'em a real show,
'Miss Muscles'," I smile, thinking of the countless requests you've turned
down to pose nude; how much money has been offered for you to do something you
always said was beneath your dignity. I reach down your back; you feel the
skimpy bikini top loosen and you begin to tremble, moaning in a breathless
voice. "Noooo ... stop ... " you pant, but it's too late. Your big, naked
breasts spill out as I toss it away, then I reach down and untie the bottoms.

Frantically, instinctively, you turn back in an attempt to stop me. Your face
is met with my fist to your jaw, snapping you back around with a loud squeal.
I once again grip your hair as you try to pivot forward, and send two more
crushing blows to the back of your head. There is little fight left in you. In
fact, you no longer have any desire to fight back. You bring your arms up to
cover your naked chest, but I grab your right wrist and move it behind you,
twisting it painfully up your back. It feels lifeless, heavy. Despite its
enormous size I overpower it easily. I pull up on your hair and shove your
hand up your back as high as it will go. "Get up, now," I command, and you
have little choice, rising unsteadily to your feet, towering over me, the
bikini bottom falling away, exposing your shaved crotch. I reach around and
grab your other enfeebled arm, your back arching as I shove it up your spine
as high as the first one. You stand there naked in your high heels, your big
breasts pushed out, your famous body on display for the entire world.

I start to walk you around the arena, your breasts swinging back and forth as
you stagger forward. Your face is almost purple with embarrassment as the
tears stream down your cheeks. Whistles and cat calls come from the crowd. I
pause in front of the TV cameras, pushing up harder on your arms, really
sticking your chest out for the world to see. I look over at the monitors and
the sight arouses me even more; the big, muscular Amazon champion beaten and
humiliated by the skinny little teenager. I notice something else, as well:
the nipples on your naked breasts are now fully erect. How utterly horrifying
it must be for you to realize that you can't help it; being dominated in front
of everyone turns you on, makes you hot. The queen, the undefeated champion,
the most fearsome woman in the world, aroused at being publicly degraded by a
teen aged girl half her size. I was always sure that deep down you were weak
inside, but this is better than I could've ever hoped for. Not only have I
beaten you and humiliated you in front of the whole world, I've actually made
you like it.

Now I'm ready to show everyone just how much you like it. I march you to the
center of the arena and force you back to your knees. Your arms fall limp at
your sides when I release them and step around in front of you. You begin to
slump forward but I cup my hand under your jaw and hold you upright, kneeling
down to your level. I move my hand to the back of your head and pull your
massive body up against me, shuddering with pleasure as I rub myself against
your hard muscles. I pull your head back and look seductively into your tear
filled eyes. "Oooo," I purr with a mocking tone, "'Miss Muscles' really likes
being dominated by a little girl." I reach down and slide my finger into the
slit of your crotch, smiling as I feel how moist it's become. "Oh yeah," I
say, my voice becoming sultry, "makes the big girl wet, being degraded like
this in front of everyone." You begin panting. "You can't ... make me ... " I
run my finger up over your hardening clit, bringing a gasp of pleasure from
you. You shake your head nervously, a pleading look in your eyes. "No,
please," you whimper, cutting yourself off with a low moan as I gently stroke
it, making it even harder. I can feel your heart pounding, pressed up against
me, unconsciously rubbing your erect nipples against my body. I no longer hear
the shouts and whistles echoing through the amphitheater or the astonished
voices of the announcers, so completely am I enraptured by my physical and
sexual mastery of you.

You have lost all self control and press yourself further into me. Your
muscular body begins to quiver, your heart pounding even harder. I sense that
your orgasm is near. With an evil grin, I pull you away from me and slam my
fist into your unprotected breast with all my strength. You emit a loud
shriek, your body jerking violently in pain. I smile and watch as you come
down off your sexual high, gasping and choking in agony. I have never been so
turned on as I am at this moment, rendering you so helpless, degrading you so
horribly and punishing your big body at my whim. It's all I can do to not
throw you down and smother you with my own pussy; force you to make me come in
your face. But I'm not ready yet. I want to prolong my pleasure of toying with
you, of humiliating you in front of everyone. I draw you back toward me and
begin gently caressing the breast I just punished. "There, there, big girl," I
coo, "it's okay. It's all better, now." You emit short, high pitched little
whimpers as I move my hand back down to your crotch and resume fondling your
womanhood. The hardness returns quickly, and with it your gasps of pleasure.
Still, you try to resist. "Please," you pant, "don't do this to me." But
hearing yourself beg just adds to your humiliation, making you become even
more aroused. Again, your body begins to build toward orgasm.

I feel you're about to come, and again I pull you away and plow my fist into
the other breast as hard as I can. You let out a guttural moan, your powerful
but now useless arms flailing about as your huge upper body twitches
spasmodically. Another rush of sexual pleasure comes over me. I mindlessly
fondle my own hard nipple, running my tongue across my upper lip as I watch
the once invincible champion tremble in helpless agony. "It makes me so hot,
bitch," I say in a husky voice, "using you this way, hurting you; in front of
the whole world." I run my fingertips over the nipple on your aching breast
and smile as it begins to harden. "Mmmm ... makes you hot too, bitch." I
squeeze your hair more tightly, jerking your head from side to side. "Big, bad
muscle girl wants to come for me." There's nothing you can do to stop this
from happening to you. "Oh God," you gasp in a high pitched voice, "oh God ...
" I wait for the pain to subside before pulling you once again toward me and
returning my finger to its evil task. I stroke you, fondle you, swirl my
fingertip around on your stiff little knob. Again you become breathless, your
heart resumes its pounding. Soon you're once again pressing your immense body
against me, softly moaning with pleasure. But I continue my wicked little
game; as you near climax I yank you back and again slam my fist into your
breast, then watch with pleasure as you sputter and gasp in pain. Now I'm
confident you aren't capable of even the slightest pretense of resistance.

I rise and stand over you, my fingers still entwined in your thick hair,
holding you upright. Words cannot describe how turned on I am as I gaze down
at you, watching you shake with agony. In less than twenty minutes you've been
turned from the cocky, invincible Amazon goddess into a beaten, craven slut by
a little teenage girl. It's an incredible sight; your awesomely powerful,
naked body hanging there like a wet dishrag; bruised, bloody, your mammoth
chest heaving. Completely stripped of your dignity by me, a girl you should
have easily crushed. My nipples are so hard; the fabric covering my crotch is
completely soaked through. It has become so difficult for me to hold myself
back; I want to force your mouth on me so badly, but first I must finish
completely degrading you. Only then will I be satisfied.

A hush comes over the amphitheater as I begin to speak. "What a pathetic slut
you've turned out to be, 'Miss Muscles'," I say with disdain, "All that talk
about splattering me, then strutting in here all big and bad. Now look at
you." I yank on your hair, your limp body jiggling around as if made of
blubber. "Now you're my pussy bitch, aren't you big girl?" You start breathing
in short gasps as you look down at the mat; I watch your big nipples become
even more erect. But you remain silent. The crack of my backhand across your
face echoes across the arena. "Aren't you!?!" I bark as your body shakes with
pain. You gasp deeply, answering in a whining voice, "Y-yes." Your head jerks
to the side as the back of my hand hits your face again. "You want to come for
me, don't you?" I ask with an evil grin. You begin whimpering loudly, the
tears streaming down your face. "Oh God," you pant, "please ... " Your
hesitation earns you another wicked backhanded slap. "Don't you!?!" I demand,
pulling on your hair as hard as I can. Now your head nods quickly. "Yes," you
reply weakly, almost choking on the word. I pull your head back roughly,
forcing you to look up at me. "Then do it, slut," I say calmly, "get down on
all fours and make yourself come." I jerk your head forward and your massive
upper body comes with it, bringing you to your hands and knees, gasping in
submission at my feet.

You lift one hand off the mat slowly, then shake your head and put it back
down. I move to your side and throw the bridge of my foot hard into your
dangling breast, lifting both of your hands off the mat as you cry out in
pain. "Do it, pussy bitch!" I command sternly. "Make yourself come for me, or
I'll cripple your big, strong body." Hesitantly, your hand comes back off the
mat and moves down between your thighs. You are utterly defeated now; totally
powerless, in complete submission to me. You close your eyes and turn your
head away from me in humiliation, but your expression of lust betrays your
arousal. The huge muscles in your arm flex up and down as you stroke yourself,
slowly at first, then faster as the pleasure you want so desperately to
control comes over you. Your back arches and your ass moves upward as the
feeling intensifies, bringing you closer and closer. You throw your head back,
your mouth gaping, panting like a bitch in heat. The crowd is going crazy
watching you degrade yourself for their entertainment. I walk around your
kneeling form slowly, casually, smiling down at you as I watch the feeling
growing stronger against your will. You start to quiver all over,
instinctively spreading your thighs wider, working your hand up and down your
dripping wet slit with a furious passion. Your entire body jerks forward as
you finally start to come, letting out a series of short, loud moans as you
come harder than you ever have.

Totally spent, your big, muscular frame collapses to the mat. You lay there on
your side, curled into a fetal position as you sob softly in abject humility.
The crowd is buzzing loudly with excitement, the announcers shouting into
their microphones. I stand there gazing down at you, my excitement now over
the edge, my hand stroking my soaking wet crotch. I'm ready now. Ready to have
you, to force your mouth to satisfy the desire I can no longer control. To
finish you. I reach down and once again grip your hair, pulling your trembling
body upright on its knees. You're so meek, now; so docile. You kneel there
panting, tears pouring down your face. "Now, pussy bitch," I command, "I want
to hear you beg. Beg to worship me with your mouth. Beg to make me come in
your face." You still hesitate, but this time it is much shorter lived. The
audience murmurs its approval as they hear you speak. "Please," you gasp,
"please let me worship you. Please let me make you come. Oh ... please ... "
The hate and fear in your eyes as you obey my command makes my blood race. I
gesture toward my crotch, pulling hard on your hair as I bark at you, "Well,
what are you waiting for? Remove them, bitch!" Haltingly, you reach up and
slide my bikini bottom down my legs, exposing my steamy pussy. I step out of
them and move forward, nuzzling the side of your face against my wetness,
smearing my juices across your cheek. You offer no resistance. I shiver with
pleasure as I rub you against me.

I pull your head away and throw you to the mat flat on your back. You lay
there panting, looking up at me as I place my feet on either side of your
head, my dripping wet crotch directly over your face. Your eyes are full of
fear and loathing but your weakness betrays you. Instinctively, you lift your
head slightly and part your lips, flicking your tongue up at me. How pathetic
you've turned out to be. You actually yearn to service me now, to be used like
a whore in front of everyone, even though the thought still horrifies you. You
hate being humiliated like this, but at the same time can't stop yourself from
craving it. The once proud, undefeated Amazon champion has been completely
subjugated. Truly, you are now mine to use as I please.

I lower myself to my knees, pinning those massive arms beneath them, then
slowly ease my crotch down onto your face, wriggling my hips slightly,
nestling your mouth and nose into my moist slit. Your muffled whimpers of
protest send waves of sexual excitement through my slender body. I grab a
handful of dark hair and pull your face even more firmly into my wetness.
"Please me slut," I command in a breathy voice, "suck my pussy." I feel your
tongue obediently go to work even as you squirm in a feeble attempt to unseat
me. I move myself back and forth over your mouth, each flick of your tongue on
my hard little clit causing me to shudder with pleasure, making me force
myself down on you even harder. You grunt under the increased pressure, your
weak, useless effort to escape becomes more frantic. My knees dig painfully
into your mammoth biceps as the rhythm of my thrusts across your face
increases. Your tongue recedes, but I pull harder still on your hair,
reminding you sternly, "Please me." You quickly return it to its work; my back
arches as I drink in the thrill of feeling you submit to my whim.

I'm really working your face hard, now. Digging you into me, thrusting myself
down on you with a passion I've never before experienced. The feeling is
indescribable. I notice a change in your movements, and smile as I glance back
at you. You are no longer struggling to stop me; your hips are twisted to one
side, your big thighs rubbing together. I lift my knees slightly and your
hands swiftly move to your crotch as you moan with pleasure. What a sniveling
slut I've made of you; a slave to your own twisted desires. It pushes me past
my limits. I begin to savage your face with my pussy; pressing it down on you
with all my power, crushing you beneath it. I quickly build to climax as you
gasp for breath beneath me, spreading your legs wide, furiously working your
own crotch with both hands. Suddenly, an orgasm unlike any before comes over
me; an incredible feeling of sheer ecstasy shoots through me like a bolt of
lightning. My juices stream down your face as I jerk my crotch into it hard
enough to break bones. I ride the wave of pleasure, both hands now gripping
your hair as my body lurches forward, unaware for the moment of anything
except my own sexual satisfaction.

As the feelings recede I look back at your squirming form, smiling again as
your muscular ass rises off the mat, your body trembling as you bring yourself
to another climax. The crowd is going insane now, the television announcers
conveying their shock at my total domination of you. I rise up slowly and look
down at you with amusement. Your naked, muscular body lays powerless at my
feet, panting, quivering with fear, shame and sexual desire. My total
destruction of you is now complete. I strut triumphantly around the arena,
smiling and waving as the audience rises to its feet, cheering my victory over
the invincible champion.

I blow a kiss into the cameras, then pick up my discarded bikini bottoms and
stride over to where you lay on the mat. "Get up, pussy bitch," I order you,
"back on your knees." Your head and shoulders rise slightly then fall back in
exhaustion. With an impatient sigh I reach down and pinch your ear between my
thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting it. "I said on your knees, you
craven slut." Gasping with pain, you struggle to an upright kneeling position,
your shoulders slumped forward, your battered breasts bouncing off one
another. I toss the bottoms down onto them with disdain. "Dress me, pussy
bitch," I command. You turn down to them and then back up to me with a
pitiful, helpless look. A chant rises from the crowd: "Dress her! Dress her!"
With trembling hands you pull them off your big, heaving chest and hold them
out for me as I step into them, then obediently guide them up my legs and over
my firm little ass as the crowd screams its approval.

I grip your hair and force you back down on all fours. Turning away from you,
I smile back over my shoulder. "Follow me now, pussy bitch," I tell you
casually, "Heel for me." You begin crawling slowly, every last shred of
dignity and self respect ripped from you, reduced to nothing more than a
female dog following her new owner. I strut across the arena and move up the
ramp, your decimated body crawling along behind me while the audience chants
my name. Words can't describe the satisfaction I feel at having degraded you
so thoroughly. I have shown the world which of us is more woman and what a
weak, worthless slut you always really were. Your career is finished. Your
famously muscular body, once feared by so many, is now just a helpless
instrument of my pleasure.

From now on you will serve me in any way I desire, obeying my every whim,
wallowing in your lust and shame.