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Day of Event - ?
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Black. Pitch black. His vision was completely obscured. Nothing to see and nothing to observe. He would try and move, but alas, he was confined. He wasn't sure what to, but he did know that he was confined.
"Having trouble, Dwayne?" A deep voice made itself known, although it was quite a distance away from the Hollywood star. "Only coming back to your senses now, huh?" The low-pitched voice got more sinister as time progressed. "It's about time you paid for your sins Dwayne. Every petty insult you've used, and now it's all going to come back and bite you in the ass. You can undo the blindfold now."
Dwayne didn't know who the man was addressing, but he eventually did, once he caught sight of who towered above him. It was a slender female figure wearing a bustier, panties, gloves, stockings and high heels; all of which were in black. She even had a whip in her possession…although, something didn't look quite right. It looked as if there was more than one riding crop in front of him. Perhaps it was because he was still a little out of it.
"Remember me, Dwayne, honey?" That voice. That ever so slight Canadian twang. It was Trish Stratus…as a blonde…or was she a brunette? Dwayne couldn't identify the colour of her hair in his dazed condition. "Of course you do. I'm Trish Stratus. Seven time Women's Champion. I'm the girl with those big tits that you couldn't stop staring at." She whipped him. "I'm the girl who had to deal with your bullcrap about my ass." Another whip. "Do you know how annoyed I was? Do you know how many people commented on my tits because of you?" Another whip, but this one more lethal than the others. "Don't worry Dwayne. It's okay now. You've just got a dose of Stratusfaction." A final whip, but also a wink was sent his way, before Trish sashayed off. She had a nice ass too, Dwayne would notice, as the cheeks jiggled during Trish's little exit strut.
Another female stood behind her. A Hispanic woman in precisely the same gear as Trish. A woman who looked to be full of rage, scorn and disdain. After letting out a primal scream, it was clear as crystal who she was. "About time you got what you deserved!" Rock received another whip. A riding crop that was laced with venom and fury. "You tried to convince Johnny that I was a D-Lister. Me! Melina!" Another whip, which started to evidently redden his golden skin. "You are so full of shit!" Unlike Trish and her womanly grace, Melina stormed off with fury. She didn't want to be held accountable with the murder of Dwayne Johnson. She had too much of a reputation to uphold to go to jail and get her pretty face fucked up by some envious cunt.
As if those vengeful women weren't enough, Dwayne would have to deal with a third. Another woman he had past encounters with. Chyna. She looked a lot like she did in her prime…oddly enough. She also wore the same get-up that Trish and Melina also wore. It was like the woman hadn't aged a day. She still had her Amazonian beauty that she had twelve…thirteen…fourteen…maybe even fifteen years ago.
"It's been a long time, Rock." The ravenette smirked that classic smirk of hers. "A lot's changed about you, I see." Even though there was a high dose of nonchalance in her voice, it still didn't prevent her from applying full power when using the riding crop to damage Dwayne. A little bit of skin peeled off from Chyna's unbelievable strength. That was the impact of her brutality. "I still remember the days where you'd poke fun at me. How I wasn't pretty. How I looked like I had a penis. You changed your mind yet, Rock?" Yet another whip. This time with even more force. "You should. There's nothing stopping me from slinging your ass from wall to wall…but I won't. I'll leave that to the guys behind me." Another smirk was sent in his direction, before she left. Her presence was fading away.
There were now two standing together. Not just one. Both in the same gear as Trish, Melina and Chyna. Both with riding crops…but one didn't quite have that feminine look. One had a completely masculine appearance, sans the bustier, panties, stockings and high heels.
"Oh Dwayne…" The voice was familiar. It was masculine. Filled with sarcasm…but also desire and lust. "Pissing off women on a weekly basis, ehh? Ya know, I had a shit ton of Divas from past and present who wanted to do that to you…I just happen to chose four of the most domineering women."
"F-Four?" Dwayne finally spoke. He was still notably dazed, but he was starting to verbally express coherent sentences again. "I-I saw t-three." Emphasis on starting. Dwayne wasn't exactly fluent yet.
"Yep. You saw three. Guessin' you didn't notice the hot babe standing next to me, huh?" The man smirked. Dwayne eventually managed to understand what the voice referred to, after checking out the bust of the petite woman. Even when a little groggy, Dwayne still knew where the best places of a woman's body were.
Unfortunately for Dwayne, his gaze was too obvious. The woman slapped him out of disdain. "You don't get to look down there…bitch." She threw the last word in just to spite Dwayne. "You know…I didn't want to do this Dwayne, but you're making me go nasty." She whipped him. Whipped him with more aggression, power and expertise than the women prior to this one. "You won't like nasty Layla, and nasty Layla sure as hell ain't gonna like you!"
He found out the identity of one of the dominatrixes towering above him. He wasn't at all sure who the other one was. Unlike Layla, the other dominatrix didn't have as much of a bust. In fact, the other dominatrix didn't have a bust at all. Entirely flat-chested.
"You think you can get away with staring at my tits too?" The deep voice would express its disdain…but also its arousal. "Oh Dwayne. Boy, you just don't learn, do ya?" Rock would say something, but his train of thought vanished completely after seeing what the domineering figure had to show. The Samoan's jaw was left wide open, as he saw not a pussy, but a cock instead.
The man seized in the opportunity that so generously gave itself to him. He thrusted his manhood inside Dwayne's gaping mouth. The Hollywood star gagged purely out of shock…and also fright. He couldn't escape. His hands were cuffed, his legs were cuffed. He was trapped in a sex dungeon. There was no chance of escape.
"I'm the WWE Champion Rocky! Me!" The man would bellow endlessly. It was only when he uttered his name that the actual WWE Champion was able to identify the towering figure. "You like suckin' on this cock, don't ya? Best cock you've ever fucking sucked on!" Even with the condescending words and the malicious tone, Rock just still couldn't believe that CM Punk actually wore panties. He never knew of his rival to be a cross-dresser.
Speaking of the all-black attire, Layla was only just taking a part of hers off. Her bustier would get slung to the floor, whilst she kept on all the other black clothes. With riding crop in hand, Layla sashayed to the legend's rear-end. His ample rear-end. It was exposed; just for them.
With such desirable buttocks on display, it was only fitting for Layla to riding crop it. Those buttocks were just begging to get whipped anyway.
Rock was in a nightmare situation. He was kept as some type of slave. He was getting used and abused by both Layla and Punk. They were having their way with him without feeling a little remorse. They were heartless people, that was for sure.
Gradually, the feeling of sheer horror abated. It was at an agonisingly slow pace, but it would still abate nevertheless. Once all the horror and the shock fully subsided, he actually grew a little accustomed to the rough treatment. Of course, 'a little too accustomed' was too much for Layla and Punk. They wanted Rock to continually feel horror. To feel fear. To feel inferior, like he should do.
The position would change, and the dominant duo dearly hoped that Dwayne wouldn't grow accustomed to this position. Otherwise, they would not be held responsible for any blood that would seep from his potentially battered and bruised skin.
Punk shifted from the front of Dwayne to the back, whilst Layla shifted from the back of Dwayne to the front.
It was clear to the two supreme figures what would happen next, but Dwayne was still clueless. He just hoped that he didn't die during this.
Whilst still in a state of secretive panic, the champion was unaware of Punk's intentions. The Chicagoan threw his panties to the floor (much like how Layla slung her bustier) and proceeded to ram himself inside of Dwayne's heat.
"You're likin' that cock, aren't ya hon?" Layla licked her lips at the anguish evident on Rock's face. The pain expressed through the moans may have been music to her ears, but Punk looked like he wasn't as appreciative of the noises being made. Layla decided that to please Punk, she would do as he would want.
Thankfully, there was a ball gag within arm's reach. She grabbed it and rammed the piece of rubber inside Dwayne's oral cavity. His moans of torture were still present, but they were muffled, which did please Punk.
She did feel a little cold though. Her tits did anyway. She had such high hopes of feeling Dwayne's long tongue twirl around her dark nubs. Just the thought made them erect. She moaned ever so slightly, through the vivid imagery running heavily in her head. Her fingers toyed with her breasts as she got a good view of all the suffer Dwayne had to endure. She was a nasty bitch. She was proud of being a nasty bitch.
But, something didn't seem quite right to Layla. When Punk started to wrap his hands around Dwayne's neck, she did sense that something was a little off. She didn't say anything, but her lust subsided a little.
Punk was almost there. His phallus pulsated wildly inside the clamping hole of his arch-nemesis. Dwayne was such a tight ass slut. He either didn't spread his legs too often, or he was damn good at keeping his hole nice and tight. Judging by the horror articulated by Dwayne, Punk assumed that Rock rarely took dick inside of him. That just made the pleasure all the more better. Not only would he batter his enemy's hole, but he would gain the pleasure of choking that cocky son of a bitch without having to face the consequences.
Dwayne could feel his vision obscure slowly, but surely. Punk applied full force with his powerful palms. Although Rock had a near sky-high quantity of durability, even he could not maintain consciousness through the dominator's strength.
"Punk! You can…err…let go of him now." Layla said with a forced giggle. She started to secretly panic when she saw Dwayne's eyes slowly drift off. Punk didn't ease up on the strength, making the scenario all the more of a horror for her.
The Chicagoan ignored the Brit. He just cared about his climax, which soon came into transpiration. He got balls deep inside his bitch for the final time, before releasing his load deep inside the walls of Dwayne. Still, it was fun, getting to choke one of Vince's top sluts and not get screamed at. It seemed that Dwayne had finally fell unconscious, judging by his lack of reaction to the pain and anguish.
"Punk! He's…he's…unconscious! Please! Please do something!" Layla begged. Dominance faded away. She didn't mind being nasty and kinky, but this was just too much.
"Fuck off!" Punk yelled. "You couldn't even keep up the nasty act for more than fifteen minutes! You're about useless as good ol' Dwayne is." Deciding to keep the Samoan cuffed and gagged, he barged past Layla, knocking her to the floor. "Face it Layla. That bitch is dead." And then he left.
A little tear started to run past her cheek and onto the floor. She was a monster! She had the opportunity to save Dwayne, but she couldn't. Poor Dwayne! His skin still peeled off through the various whips he received, his hole was used and abused and now he was unconscious. She should have helped him when she had the chance. She shouldn't have encouraged Punk's domineering behaviour. The tears started to flow down Layla's face, as she knelt down to caress his cheek.
"Dwayne." Her tone was soft and gentle. Maybe he would respond through the sound of a delicate woman, rather than a dominant one. He had no response. "Dwayne." A little more frightened, but still calm, for the most part. Teardrops were now landing on Rock's forehead. "Dwayne!" She started to panic. She felt absolutely nothing from him. His body started to get faintly cold.
"Dwayne! Dwayne! Wake up Dwayne!" She was screaming at this point. She didn't want to be responsible for the death of an innocent person; especially a person who she idolised when growing up as a young woman.
Life started to become empty. The sands of time were quickly running out. There was nothing left for Dwayne to accomplish, as his heartbeat had finally stopped.
And then he woke up.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Well, this is a whole lot of BDSM from me! First chapter I believe that features cross-dressing, as well as the first to incorporate a dream into an entire chapter. I'm so proud!
Anyway, here's what's coming your way next:
~ Daniel Bryan (Bottom)/Justin Gabriel (Versatile)/Sheamus (Top)/Tamina Snuka (Top)/Tyson Kidd (Versatile) (Requested by KJ-Slashbug)
~ Alicia Fox (Versatile)/Justin Gabriel (Bottom)/Wade Barrett (Top) (Requested by miss wizard of oz)
~ Corey Graves (Top)/Jake Carter (Bottom)/Summer Rae (Versatile) (Requested by Enchanting Disaster)
~ AJ Lee (Versatile)/Daniel Bryan (Bottom)/Dolph Ziggler (Top) (Requested by MissConfused17)
~ Audrey Marie (Bottom)/Brad Maddox (Versatile)/Ted DiBiase (Top) (Requested by SEanimal)
~ Alberto Del Rio (Top)/Cody Rhodes (Versatile)/Kaitlyn (Bottom) (Requested by me)
~ Alex Riley (Bottom)/Cameron (Versatile)/Tensai (Top) (Requested by me)
As you can see, I've got a LOT of requests for now, so for the time being, no more requests will be accepted. Thank y'all.