Motherly Transformations: Battle Mode

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Motherly Transformations: Back In Business

A sequel to the bodyswap story where the boy ends up in the body of a chubby, motherly masseuse on an island full of slutty stereotypes. Unsure what to do, he pursues his new lifestyle as a shitty but successful massage specialist.

Shane went through most of the day exploring the island and making some spare sand dollars. He had a decent stash put together, since apparently just about anybody he dared to offer to feel up would gladly pay for his services. They trusted the chubby motherly figure absolutely, particularly the guests themselves. Shane had gone through a whole batch of college girls on spring break at once, and they had all moaned and screamed over a simple clumsy fingering. The Asian girl had even wailed so shrilly in broken English that he'd practically expected a "me so horny" out of her. He decided he could fit one last customer in before he would settle down for dinner and some more research.

"Yes! Yes! Right there! Just like that!"

Shane was still only massaging her lower back, but Amy was a very vocal customer. She was the scuba diving instructor, as made clear by her wearing her dive suit and goggles over her forehead all the time. She was laid out on the nearby picnic table, her huge boobs squashed enough that the black-wrapped mammaries spilled out to either side under her arms. If she was that enthusiastic about it, Shane went ahead and slid his hands the rest of the way into the back zipper of her suit. Amy's shrill gasps and whimpers grew louder as he grabbed and kneaded her tight ass, tugging it out of the suit so that her booty stuck out into the air. With her halfway out of the diving suit, she looked more like she was in a piece of bondage gear rather than her professional attire. Then again, they were getting harder to distinguish with some of the ladies Shane walked by today.

"Oh gosh! Deeper! Dive deeper!" Amy wailed, her short blonde hair shaking along with her head as she bit her lip.

"Anything you say, hon," Shane chuckled. Whatever was making the women here so thirsty, he was happy to be paid for helping them out. He dropped any pretense as he spanked Amy's ass and started thrusting his fingers into her from behind. Amy went from being eager to full blown fucked silly as she screamed, long and loud enough that she drooled over the table and gripped the wood to brace herself against his simple fingering. She thrust back at pornographic levels until he felt her squirt over his fingers, proceeding to rub the natural lubricant against Amy's clit. He was no expert before today, but he managed to milk a second gusher out of her before she finished relaxing from the first. It was probably a testament to their horniness rather than his skill, but it did his ego good all the same.

"Phew! Guess that's why they call it a wet suit!" Amy laughed, blushing as she sat up on the table. She zipped up her suit, and Shane had to wonder if she was somehow ignorant of her cum being left inside or if the resort's suits somehow planned for this kind of thing. She took her phone out and hit a few buttons, the familiar ping on Katherine's/Shane's phone notifying him of the big fat tip.

"Thanks for the business. Hope to see you again, dearie." Shane smiled at her and wondered if the dearie was too much as he heard a distant shriek. He looked over at the beach itself, seeing a strange but clearly feminine figure com marching out of the waves. She had blue skin, a few meager fins growing from her broad shoulders. She was tall and wore what looked like a primitive sling bikini made from seaweed and sea shells. A twiggy blonde with an over the top boob job was snatched off her surfboard, though she didn't seem to care about the fishy monstergirl until the blue woman had the blonde lifted over her head. Only then did she seem to start shrieking and flailing uselessly.

"Um... is that normal?" Shane asked, pointing at the water and the strange squabble. Amy looked back at him in confusion, and he had to point twice more before turning her to face the problem.

"Ohhhh her. Oh, that's the Tide Queen. She does this sometimes." Amy shrugged as the blue woman put her busty catch on the ground. Her fins spread a bit wider, and from somewhere behind them came a pair of thick, 6-foot long tentacles. Shane had seen enough hentais to know where this was going. "She comes out to find a bride once in awhile, but really she's just looking for a quick lay. She marks them as hers and then lets them go. Kind of a sexy version of catch and release."

"Are... they okay?" Shane muttered, looking between the diver and the molested blonde awkwardly. The tentacles started to vanish into their prey's swimsuit as expected, groping up her breasts and probing around the crotch. The surfer seemed to be rapidly getting into it, much like they did with Shane's massages as she started to gyrate and moan while Tide Queen gave a haughty laugh.

"That's right! Feel the power of the seaaaa!" the apparent supervillain gloated. A pair of girls walked by the scene without looking up from their phones, and a dark-skinned girl in a complete cheerleader outfit went on listening to her headphones until the Tide Queen grabbed her as well, turning one of her tentacles on her. It was hard to deny that they really didn't seem to mind it.

"Yea, we get monsters like that once in a while," Amy went on, as if the word "monsters" meant "light rain." The Mamataur, Bush Fire, The Hypno Gorgon... they do pesky stuff like turn girls into zombies or slime them or silly stuff like that. Frankly, I've had some pushy guests come by who are more annoying than they are."

Shane heard the screams reach a new peak, looking back to see the last of the beach girls entering some shaking that he had started to clearly recognize as the exaggerated orgasms of the island residents (lots of thrashing, shouting, and humping while their backs arched until their boobs threatened to pop out of any clothes they might have on). With that, Tide Queen gave a triumphant laugh and pushed them over as she reeled in her tentacles, pock marks left on the women's breasts and thighs. That must have been what Amy meant by "marking" her victims as hers. The monstergirl turned and strode confidently back into the water. "I have to go now. My home planet needs me," Shane muttered, shaking his head at the absurd scene. "Well, thanks for the info, Amy. I think I've got some research to do. Maybe grab a little dinner."

"More than a little, by the look of you," Amy giggled, poking Shane playfully in his soft belly. "But seriously, enjoy your stay."

Shane stopped off at a ramen shop, putting in a few orders on his phone (tv, some game systems, new clothes...) before starting to look over his phone. Sure enough, apparently every week or two there were some monstergirls showing up, harassing some of the locals before wandering off to wherever they came from. There were a few entries on the news for the island's logs. He tried contacting Miss Masters about it, but went through two secretaries just to get to a voicemail. She was a busy, tiny woman, apparently.

"Excuse me. Miss?" Shane looked up in surprise at the person who had approached her. For one thing, he had been initiating most of the conversations that day (which backed his "in a video game" theory), so being spoke to startled him a bit. Second, it was a man. Shane hadn't seen a single male since he'd come on the island (except maybe one of the horses or dolphins), and while he'd enjoyed himself drooling over the eye candy, it was assuring to see any other guy on the entire island. He was tall, and what Shane could imagine being called good looking. Dark straight hair, very thin beard that lined a strong jaw, and something of a tan he'd expect a person who lived on an island to have picked up. He had a strong build to him, despite wearing what looked to be a lab coat and simple shirt and slacks underneath it.

"Oh! Yea. Sorry. What's up... dearie?" Shane tried to salvage, forgetting his age for a moment.

"I'm sorry, but I had to come talk to  you. I've been looking for a woman just like you."

"You might be the only one," Shane scoffed, eying the pile of chicken wings he'd polished off (to no end of comments from his server whenever she refilled it). "But I'd be glad to help another level head."

"Yes, well, things are obviously a little strange around here..." the other man smiled awkwardly, looking over his shoulder at the waitress wearing an apron, thong, a maid headpiece and nothing else. "I'll admit that. But I was looking for someone more... mature. More experienced."

"Uh huh," Shane said with a noncommittal nod. "So did you see my rates on the website, or is this you trying to... get to know me better, let's say?"

"Oh! Well, I mean..." The man muttered, averting his eyes as if he'd just noticed that Shane had enormous tits and thighs that could swallow up his head. "No, I would... I'd love to know you better, but... ahem. Let me try again. I'm Dr. Robert Tokatsu. I run the research lab here on the resort."

"Oh. Good to meet you. I'm... Katherine." Shane caught himself quickly this time about the name, wiping his hands off on a napkin before shaking his hand. "What do you research? Don't tell me you're responsible for the... well." He held up his phone with the latest entry on a sexy green witch who attacked the island with her clothes-melting potion.

"No! No, but I'm glad you bring that up. I mostly do work with the police, or specifically, the security force that protects the island. Unfortunately, they're not properly equipped to deal with those kinds of threats. Not yet, anyway." He smiled and nodded away from the table. "Would you mind coming to the lab? I've got something I think would look perfect on you. I'll even pay your rates, if that'll convince you," he laughed playfully.

Shane did genuinely like the guy. He wasn't about to give him a happy ending, but he spoke a hell of a lot more clearly than everyone else, and had a decent head on his shoulders. If he was going to learn anything, it was probably from this guy. "Oh, I've got plenty of customers today. I'll humor you. I always wanted to be a scientist. Well, more of a video game tester, but still..."

Shane had a number of ideas what he had meant. It could have been an excuse to get him in sleazy lingerie, or test out some lust drug on her, or maybe even sic some Frankenboob monster on him, but he was apparently the good kind of eccentric scientist. The devices and chemicals he showed him were all innocent enough, if a bit silly. Healing serums, permanent suntan lotion, anti-mind control helmets, submersible robots, and vaguely hi tech things like that. When Dr. Tokatsu offered Shane a shiney, scifi watch, he put it on and found his real reason to be here.

There was a flash of red light, and when it faded, he was wrapped up in skintight spandex. It was a bright and flashy red one piece, some see-through orange visor floating in front of his eyes. He had a loose helmet stuck on top of his head, thin and not very well-secured but enough to let his hair hang out the back. Shane couldn't even see behind him at his size, but he could feel that the costume was a thong back from how it rode up on him. He felt the urge to adjust it, but it fit so comfortably. Even the big oval on his chest that showed enough cleavage to hint at areola gave him a surprisingly appreciated draft. The spiral pattern right on his nipples felt like a bit much, but he could have seen it going a lot worse.

"How do you like it?" Daniel asked proudly. "It's my Security Emergency Needs Tactical Autodefensive Intuitive suit. SENTAI suit, for short, naturally." Shane stopped checking himself out to frown over at him. "I know. I like puns. So why not? Fun with acronyms and all that. But despite how it looks, it provides a natural force field, enhances your strength to double it with reflexive nanofibers, and a bunch of other technical jargon I won't bore you with right now."

"That's amazing. But why don't you use this to fight the monsters?" Shane asked, hurrying back out into the hall to view himself properly in the full length mirror. Some of his curves poked out unflatteringly from the spandex's edges, and it drew a lot of attention to the nipples.

"Well, I'd like to. But... the word 'nano' there might be a bit misleading. It takes a lot of fabric to be able to house the tech needed to operate that many subsystems. None of the other officers are... built to fit inside this big of a suit."

Shane blushed as he realized the implication, but Dr. Dan avoided meeting his gaze. "So... that's what you meant by a 'woman like me?"

"Over... 150 pounds," Robert muttered. avoiding Shane's gaze and rubbing his arm awkwardly. "It's not my fault every other woman on this crazy island has a model's figure."

Shane would have said porn star (even the muscle beach chick, if you counted the fetishy videos), but that worked as well. "So... that's it? I have powers now?"

"To an extent," the doctor went on. "The main weapon will be in your mammarian glands. Your body's natural biology will produce a pacifying agent to sedate enemies until we can..."

Mamarian... it took Shane a while to remember that word. It didn't take as long to remember when he bumped into somebody on the street while they were looking at their phones, and the wet stain that had mysteriously appeared on his nipple. "So my breast milk makes people tired when I'm in this suit?"

"To... be blunt, I guess."

"Please do. I'm not real big on science words."

"Basically, when you're in costume, you'll be the one person strong and durable enough to face off with the monsters long enough to placate them, where our security officers can carry them off somewhere for safe keeping."

"But why?"

"Because of the suit. The built in skintight forcefield..."

"No, no, dummy," Shane cut off. "Why are you so dedicated to stoppping the monsters? Why not... I dunno... stop coming to the island where monsters keep attacking? This can't be worldwide."

Dr. Tokatsu frowned and nodded. "Well, they're a menace, for one. Always molesting, brainwashing, trashing property. It's a real blow to customer morale and the budget, if nothing else." Shane rolled his eyes, remembering the women's squealing orgasms on the beach. It sure didn't seem like THAT big of a problem to them. "Plus, it's kind of cool, right? All these inventions I've made to help out the resort, but this is my first one that can actually, legitimately fight crime." He smiled at Shane proudly, as if he weren't wearing the equivalant of a sling bikini. "You HAVE to agree that's cool, right?"

He had a point... this was kind of cool, even if kinky as shit. "Besides, I'm not expecting you to run a charity here. You can do your massage business, and when we'd need you, I can hail you on the watch and I'll pay you for stopping the monsters. You'll get 75% of anything Miss Masters pays me for it, plus a bonus whether you win or lose."

"I dunno," Shane muttered awkwardly. He looked down at his body, jiggling his boobs around for a quick test. He swore he could hear a wobbling noise mixed with a bit of splashing around. Curious to test, he squeezed around one of his nipples. There was a sharp sound of some kind of air pressure shifting as a little bullet of pure white milk shot across the room and hit the opposite wall 50 feet away. Shane raised his eyebrows at that. The guy wasn't kidding around.

The lights started flashing red and an alarm went off overhead. Dr. Tokatsu looked up at the ceiling before back at his guest. "Well? Willing to give it a test drive?"

Pain and Promotion 3: Pigpen vs Becky Blaque

((an old sequal I forgot about! had to post it here))


Becky stretched and readied herself in the ring, shining under the spotlights like the star she was supposed to be. Sammie getting into the league was a fluke, really, but no skin off her back. They weren't in the same boat, just the same ocean, and she was the one who was going to stay afloat. She was premiering in her first bout, and it was time to really make a splash and show these girls what a true sadistic heel could do. There were much bigger fish to fry now that she was in the big leagues, and Becky was confident that it was about time for this heel to make a real bad impression in her first match.
Becky came out in her usual black attire, her borderline S&M leather two-piece. The crowd responded loudly and positively at the sexy heel as she threw up her hands, urging on and soaking up the cheers.
"First up! Making her debut at EVL! This rookie is smart, beautiful and deadly, from Toronto, Canada! We bring you, Becky Blaque!" The newcomer heel was greeted in her entry, flexing her lean limbs before sliding into the ring and shaking out her hair readily.


Her opponent came down the runway, a behemoth of a woman. One of the bigger girls in the league, Patty “Pigpen” McKelly was said to be over 300 lbs, huge J cup tits hanging out over her big belly. She had long straight brown hair, going barefoot to the ring beneath her jeans and mostly unbuttoned shirt. A roll of fat hung out over her jeans, and the shirt was clearly unwashed, based on several stains of it. Something that looked like ketchup here and there, but Becky mainly noted the sweat. It stuck out on her pits and bits by her stomach, Patty having quite a reputation that was visible just by that glance as she squeezed her big figure into the ring.



Patty was a big farm girl, and there were rumors of her getting a title shot in the near future. But her bulk was only part of what made her dangerous. She was strong as well as fat, and famously unwashed. Even across the ring, Becky could catch a whiff of her foe’s musk when the air moved just right, and being locked up with her made Becky feel like she might gag.
“Hoo! You such a hick you don’t know what those pipey thingies do back there? They’re call showers. Didn’t your uncle-daddy teach you that much?” Becky called to her loudly, mixed laughs and boos from the crowd.
Patty grunted and eyed her up. “Talk all y'all want," she  grunted. "You don't look like much to me. You'll shut up yer sass when you're suckin' on ass."
"Poetic hillbilly. Nice angle," Becky scoffed, getting another glare for her efforts before the bell rang. Both girls circles, Becky with noticably lighter bounce in her step compared to Patty's lumbering frame.
Becky lunged in quickly when she had a decent opening, throwing up her arms into a classic collar and elbow lock-up. Patty was clearly glad to accept what looked like a pretty ridiculous attempt on an offense, quickly overpowering Becky and twisting her arm around behind her. Becky's face twisted from the shocking pain of the big pro's arm bar, forced into being steered by the fat farm girl. She ran Becky towards a turnbuckle, trying to flatten her between her bulk and the hard pole, but Becky saw it coming quite clearly. She raised a boot to plant on the middle turnbuckle, halting her charge and twisting to elbow Patty in the temple. She grunted heavily, stunned before taking a second one just like it.
It got Patty to stagger enough to let go, Becky grabbing her hair and swinging Patty head first into the ringpost with a clang. She stumbled again, almost falling back but Becky kept a grip on her hair, swinging her again and again into the metallic rod. "Stupid fatass! You don't try and eat the ring!" she cackled after a half dozen slams, letting her go with a vicious hair mare than left Patty hitting the mats with a thundering drop on her big back and ass.
She held her head, trying to roll and get back up as Blaque postured for the crowd before pursuing her dazed opponent. She stomped down on Pattys knee, making the heavy contender wince and grab at her leg to try and block the attack. “Like your huge gut hasn’t turned them to powder already anyway,” Blaque said venomously. She grabbed hold of

Patty dragged her up quickly with her thick limbs, breathing heavy so her thick tits and belly wobbled. She whipped Becky by one arm into the corner, making her turn just before her back hit the ringpost. She groaned and held her back, wincing and briefly paralyzed in place as Patty reached up to her cleavage and pulled at her top, sending the last few fastened buttons flying as she exposed her own tits and remains of her stomach before shedding the garment entirely. The more seasoned fans shouted excitedly (the rest just shouted for a view of her huge melons), knowing what this meant. Patty knew full well about her sweat and her stink, and with her shirt off, there was no more barrier between Becky and the strong smell of her opponent.
So as Becky was trying to stand herself up right and see straight, Patty charged in after her and gave a short hop before her huge body splashed into her, sandwiching the skinnier girl between her and the turnbuckle. Becky let out a huge groan as the wind was knocked out of her, leaning over Patty’s shoulder a bit before she slide backward slightly, letting Becky’s face slide down the front of her body. It smeared her face down the sweaty, unwashed redneck, trying to suck in fresh air but only rewarded with the sour smell of her sweat along her breasts and belly.
Patty grinned down at her as the nasty heel hit the mats on her ass, was twisted in disgust and stunned by the overwhelming body squash. Even her makeup was smeared from the flab and sweat contact. Patty turned and raised her fists proudly to the crowd at her power move, a flash of her unshaven pits getting a few cheers from her most dedicated (and strange) fans before smacking her jiggling belly, indicating she was ready for more action.
Patty rubbed at her chest during her showy display, partly for her sore bosom and partly to reach into her cleavage. There she secured her grip on the flat metal knucklers, and as soon as Patty turned back around she lunged forward, smashing her reinforced knucks into the veteran’s flopping belly. Patty’s face reacted instantly, doubling over and eyes and mouth hanging open wide, clutching at her hanging flabby tummy.
The position gave her the angle to look right into Becky’s face as she flashed a sinister toothy grin, slapping one of Patty’s hands away from her gut before slamming her again, making her entire flabby body jiggle as Patty felt like the brass was digging right into her very organs. She gagged and spit out onto the mat, looking ready to topple over when Becky ducked down low, swinging past her hands and driving the foreign object right up between her legs. Patty screamed out, as even this tank of a woman couldn’t handle that much punishment right to the pussy.
Patty fell to the mat, holding her groin and groaning as she laid on her side. The crowd reacted hugely, even if mostly boos. Becky flashed her knuckles for the crowd to see her evil genius, placing her wrestling boot on Patty’s cheek and grinding it there. “That’ll do, pig,” she taunted, kissing her trusty weapon. “Ugh! You got your bacon sweat on it, you ugly pig!” she said, making an exagerated gagging face at her weapon and daintily removing them with two fingers and throwing them from the ring. “Somebody burn those! With holy water! Or soap. It’s the same thing with her!”
Patty was too much in agony to really listen to her, her pelvic bone throbbing from the punishment she took, and her insides still feeling like they were settling even when her fat body was done wobbling. Becky took Patty by the hair, dragging her towards the ropes. She had to stop after a few short paces, starting to sweat herself and breathing heavy. The woman was big, and damn hard to move when she didn’t want to. She instead ran to the opposite ropes, rushing back at her and dropping down, performing something of a baseball slide double kick into Patty’s ribs.
The farm girl grunted loudly and rolled to the ropes instead. “Can’t walk, but you sure can roll, tons of fun,” Becky snapped, standing back up and stepping out of the ring. She went to her corner and grabbed her trusty bag of tricks, walking back over to where Patty laid utterly stunned in pain. She needed time, she knew, since even with her endurance she wasn’t unbreakable. Then there was a metallic clink, and she looked up in a groggy panic to see that Becky had latched handcuffs onto her wrist, and the other end to the bottom rope.
“There! Now you won’t have to worry about having to reach too far for rope breaks!” Becky said in a sugary sweet voice. “Not that I’ll care anyway.” She brandished her night stick, thanking again that her brother was a cop as she slid back into the ring. “Now I think it’s time to make you SQUEAL, piglet!” she chimed merrily.
“Eat shit, ya cheatin’ bitch,” Patty spat back, but only just managing to drag herself up to one elbow.
“I’m not interested in your cousin-fuckin’ family dinners, Billy Joe,” Blaque snarled back. “And let me remind you who’s in charge of this match now.” Becky stood up tall and slammed an elbow drop onto Patty, her sharp elbow spiking into her soft gut. Patty wobbled and huffed as the wind was knocked out of her, Becky grinning wickedly at the results as the fat woman jiggled. “I’ve fought jello molds that were stronger than you. Jiggled less, too.”
Becky straddled her fatter foe, having to spread her legs wide to be able to reach over her broad hips. “I’m gonna enjoy beating your brainless,” Becky grinned, raising the club high for a swing. Patty surprised her though, reaching up with her free hand to grab her by the hair. Becky screamed in surprise as her scalp felt on fire, Patty using it to push her head down towards hers. Becky was smashed cross-eyed when the headbutt connected, looking dizzy as she nearly fell off her foe.
Patty wrapped a strong flabby arm around her head, squeezing her against her soft breast. Becky was still seeing stars when Patty opened her mouth and bit into her forehead, suddenly waking her up with the splitting pain in her skull. Becky screamed and kicked at the mat, swinging wildly but at a horrible angle to land any hits with her long weapon. She shot a few elbows into Patty’s sternum between her heaving breasts, Patty’s face all rage and fury and ignoring the hits for the most part.
When that failed, Becky instead clenched her fist and jammed her thumb into Patty’s eye. She shouted in pain from the shot to the soft spot, covering her face instead of holding Becky’s head. Becky lashed out with the head of her club, striking Patty in the throat and making her gag as it briefly rammed her windpipe, leaving her choking and half blinded.
Becky stood up hurriedly, sweating and panting and looking every bit as furious as Patty had been in her wrathful counter attack. This was supposed to be HER debut! HER big impression! A strong, easy victory to win over her fans. And this fat, unwashed, shit-shoveling hillbilly was ruining it.
“I changed my mind,” Becky raged through clenched teeth. “Fuck this match. I’m gonna be in charge of this whole fucking LEAGUE before long! Even our boss O’Harra will answer to me once I’m done conquering this pathetic federation!”
Becky rained stomps down on the winded and stunned Patty, hammering every part of the sleazy girl she could see and not taking the time to aim, just to hit her hard and a lot. Patty was bruised and sore after nearly a half minute of vicious stomping, barely able to get her one free hand in the way of the pummeling. Becky leaned down on her knees, holding her baton in both hands on either side and leaning down on Patty, pressing the back of her neck over the ropes and the baton across her throat, leaving her gagging and drooling miserably.
“I wanna look in your eyes when you black out. I want to see you beg me not to slaughter you like the stupid stinking pig you are!”
Patty struggled to breathe, evident in her gasping and sputtering, clawing at the baton and her gut rising and falling rapidly. Her vision blurred a bit, but she saw something glint in the light. Tucked neatly into Becky’s gothy collar, hanging by a short chain, was a silver key. Patty’s eyes widened, seeing her last hope in winning this fight, but right next to her opponent’s head. And she was still heavily armed.
Patty slapped her hand rapidly and weakly on Becky’s thigh, gagging out something and indicating with her face it was urgent. Becky saw the fear and surrender in the vet’s face, loving it and wanting to savor it. She barely lifted up the baton to let her beg before wanting to press it back down harder.
“Your future queen allows you to speak, dirty peasent.”
Patty’s lips moved sourly, glaring daggers at Becky as she looked determined and focused on something.
“What is it? Trying to remember how to spell ‘give up?” Becky taunted her.
Patty parted her lips, but instead of an insult or a scream, she let out a loud “EUUUURRRBGH!” A belch from deep in her bottomless gut flew out into Becky’s face, nauseating her as she backed up holding her nose and staggering. “OH JEEZ! Tooth brush, Cletus! Invent one! Oh god, it’s in my eyes!” Becky staggered looking ready to throw up, barely noticing when the chain fell off her neck. She looked down to see the broken bit of metal, piecing it together as Patty finished using the key to unlock her cuffs.
She hardly got her hands ready to guard herself when Patty charged after her, swinging her meaty arm like a club and crashing right into Becky’s neck and chin, clotheslining her so hard she flipped her completely head over heels in a full reverse somesault before smashing down onto the mat on her tits.
Becky gasped and flopped on the mat rapidly, holding her throat as Patty threw the police baton from the ring, coughing and rubbing her neck but looking furious and ready to pay Becky back double. The big woman leapt up and dropped her knee right into Becky’s spine, making her arch her back and scream as she clawed the mat, kicking her feet in loud rapid thumping.
Patty rose up, grabbing Becky by her hair. She dragged her along, quite literally since Becky couldn’t muster the will to overcome her back pain and stand or even crawl. Her knees and tits scraped along the mat like Patty was a conquering caveman with a freshly clubbed wife.
Patty hoisted her up, shoving her against the corner post with her arms flopped over the top ropes for support, head lolling as her neck and back ached horribly when she even attempted to stand upright, after what the weighty cow had done to her. Patty wound up and threw a knife edge chop across her breasts, making Patty bounce and grunt loudly. Another struck with an echoing smack, Becky howling and starting to fall to her knees from that one. Patty wound up again, this time clubbing her fist down onto Becky’s chest so hard her own belly and tits jiggled tremendously from it, and the ring shook from her weight crashing back down through her feet.
Becky looked dead on her feet by now, her body just trying to drag itself to the ground so it could rest and recover. Patty gave a toothy grin, holding Becky up by one arm in her hair. She raised her other arm proudly again, but this time rather than posturing, turned and shoved her sweaty armpit into Becky’s face. She moved her body up and down, Becky finding the air and energy to scream. The bristly hairs of Patty’s barely shaven pits and the abundant sweat of the overworked fat girl made for a horrible experience, her every orphic stinging and stinking from what felt like an unwashed Brillo pad, or a brutalized loofah. Her makeup was utterly ruined by the invading stink and scrubbing and smearing sweaty hairs. She backed away and by the appalled and disgusted look on Becky’s face, Patty just had to let go of her hair. She was broken, and fell right to the mat, coughing pathetically and twitching on the mat from the smell that wracked her brain just trying to comprehend how many kinds of sweat, slime, and bacteria she’d just breathed in and… and oh god, yes, tasted!
With a knowing grin on her face, Patty marched to the turnbuckle, and hauled her hefty body up onto the first rope, then the second. Balancing there, she grabbed her denim hotpants and slid them down her legs. The farm girl wasn’t wearing any underwear, so her big round ass was now completely bared for all to see. It was certainly difficult to miss, with Patty’s voluptuous butt cheeks being the broadest and fleshiest in the league.
Down on the mat, Becky groggily stirred, to see that massive bare ass looming above her.
“Oh no…” she winced, willing her body to move out the way, but Becky was too winded and sore to take any evasive action.
Up on her perch, Patty cackled. Some of the fans were screaming for her ‘Mudhole Splash’, Patty’s signature move, and she was in no mood to disappoint. The large wrestler waved to the crowd, patted her big behind, and grinned broadly. She then leapt backwards off the corner post, bracing for a butt splash, plummeting down towards Becky’s head.
There was a HUGE crash as buxom Patty smashed right down onto her victim, her heavy ass crashing straight into Becky’s upturned face. The ring shook violently at the dramatic impact, and Becky’s limbs flailed in shock. It was a brutal move for the black-haired girl to endure, as painful as it was humiliating. The full weight of Patty’s chunky figure had dropped onto Becky’s head like a sack of bowling balls, crushing her skull against the canvas. This impact was cushioned only by the flesh of Patty’s broad buttocks, her naked ass engulfing Becky’s face like a heavy, sweat-soaked mattress. It was a match-ending blow, the crowd cheering, jeering and even groaning in sympathy for the smaller girl as she took the full force of that destructive derriere.
The weight of the Mudhole Splash was often enough to outright knock out a lot of Patty’s opponents. In truth, they were the lucky ones. As Becky’s body continued to jolt and writhe beneath the bigger girl’s butt, it was clear that there would be no such quick finish for the hapless rookie. Becky was still conscious, though her head was wracked with pain, and unfortunately now embedded under the big, bare ass of her opponent. ‘Pigpen’ Patty was in no hurry to move from this position, content to keep her anguished victim pinned beneath her plump rear.
Patty folded her arms like a patient Indian, her faint smirk showing her confidence that the fight was already won. Becky squirmed and thrashed, but weakly like she was in slow motion, clawing and pushing at Patty's big bare ass cheeks. It only served to smush the butt fat around. Her nose was still overwhelmed by not only the flab, but the stench of asshole and sweat tainted any air she could manage to get into her lungs, making her cough and spit it back out.
Patty shrugged off any clawing and squirming, Becky's resistance predictably fading and slowing in a way that made Patty actually yawn, even if it was a show for the crowd. Becky saw any light in her vision leave her, barely realizing the gurgling she made was half her own saliva, and half Patty’s stinking sweat in her mouth from her last conscious breath. Somewhere in the shadows and dulled noises beyond her ears padded by ass fat, a bell was sounding.

“Hey.” Becky looked up from her bench in the locker room, toweling off. She’d been in the shower for nearly half an hour, emptying shampoo and body wash bottles trying to get Patty’s stink off of her. It mostly worked.
There was the cute young star Sammie Saturn, the one she’d beat up in her old league to get to where she was now. The one who had made her debut tonight before her and got beaten up by the killer psycho clown girl.
“Hey,” Becky replied grimly, throwing the towel off of herself in a clearly bitter motion.
“How you liking this place so far?” Sammie pried, just in jeans and a t-shirt and jacket, about to head home.
“Full of rednecks and idiots,” Becky grunted dryly, but then grinned a bit. “I’ll be ruling this place in no time.”
Sammie nodded a bit sheepishly. “Good. I’m liking it too. It’s just… harder than I’d expected.”
“Yea. We’re not in the middle of Nowhere, New Jersey anymore,” Becky sighed.
“Guess we’re… sort of in the same boat together.”
Becky looked at her sarcastically, but managed a smile. “You and me? You enjoy your rowboat. My motorboat’s gonna make so many goddamn waves here they’ll think it’s the end of fuckin’ days.”
Sammie took the minor insult in stride, smiling a bit herself. “Right. Just cuz we’re new doesn’t mean we can’t um… make some waves.”
Becky sighed and grabbed her gym bag of weapons and wrestling clothes, starting to leave. “Whatever. Just don’t make us both look bad, and if you fight me again, be sure to lose with some goddamn style this time.”
Sammie hesitated as she walked to the door. “Good luck!” she called after her.
“Same,” Becky said dismissively back. It still made Sammie smile. If she couldn’t have a win tonight, she’d at least have her optimism.