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[center][u]Sizzle Slam - Encasement Belt Match[/u][/center]

“HELLO! And WELCOME! To the Wild World of Fettish Wrestling’s Sizzle Slam! The Summer Season's most Sexually Sensational Super Slut Showdown! I’m Taj “Raja of the Ring” Dhi, and with me tonight we have my friend and co-host, Charles “Big Bottom” Wadsworth the Third! Say hello to all the people at home Charles!”

The large white pig blushed gently as he gave a wave to the camera from behind the announcers desk. He was wearing a shiny blue vest over a crisp black shirt, and was sweating, well, like a pig. Next to him, a large paw on his co-hosts shoulder, claws clearly visible, was the “Raja of the Ring’, Taj Dhi, former heavyweight champion, current charismatic commentator. The bengal tiger was tall, wide, fit, and had a smile with enough teeth to give a submissive a nosebleed. He wore a red silk vest, and a matching leather cap. As he also waved to the camera, the cameraman panned up and around to show the folks at home just what it was like to be in the stadium during Sizzle Slam.

The stadium was filled with cheering fans, cosplayers, waving signs, and all sorts of pomp, paraphernalia, and branded merchandise. The camera panned up and over the fans in the stands, letting those at home see the wide range of those there to enjoy the event live. In particular it zoomed in on a group of horses wearing Battle Stallion masks and holding up signs. The camera then tilted down and flew over the crowd seated on folding chairs on the floor of the sports facility. It was a mix of the rich and connected, the superfans, and those who’d managed to earn a seat on the floor through ‘various means’.

The jumbotron, and the screens at home, cut to the animated opening for Sizzle Slam. The current face of the WWFW and holder of the ‘king of the ring’ crown, Zavis Hand gave a great big grin to the screen before throwing a beach ball up into the air and spiking it down onto the crowd of potential challengers for his belt, sending them scattering up into the air. The promo quickly ran through the various matches that were on the card for the night - a high flying Lucha match, two different tag team match, the encasement belt match between Drone 7 and Mistress Mercy, the Battle Stallion Legacy match, ‘Extreme match’, and the heavily anticipated match of Zavis defending his crown and title versus an unknown challenger, a surprise contender picked by the WWFW commissioner who would be revealed at some point tonight. It ended with the camera focused back on the two announcers.

“Well wrestling fans, it looks like we have an amazing night prepared for you. And it’s only going to get spicier after the sun goes down.” The Raj of the ring purred.

“That’s right Taj, we aren't the premiere fetish wrestling organization just because of our advertising.” Charles added, cheeks crimson as he shifted in his seat. “I for one am looking forward to seeing who the Commissioner picks to face the champion tonight. There have been all sorts of rumors, and several wrestlers have told me in confidence that they’re the one who’s getting the chance to unseat Zavis, but you know how it is here, nothing’s set in stone until that bell rings.

“Indeed, I know that very well. It’s hard to be at the top, but very rewarding as well. Speaking of Topping, let's go to Sarah backstage, who’s talking with one of the contenders in our first match of the night.”

[center] ~~~~Several matches later~~~ [/center]

“Welcome back versatile verses who like vs’s. As you can see, the sun is starting to get low, but we’re not quite out of daylight yet.”

“That’s right Taj, we’ve got one more match in us before it truly starts getting dark.” In the two intervening matches, Charles had lost his respectable outer clothes, and was currently wearing a blue rope harness which cut tight against his white and pink skin. His bottom half was still hidden behind the announcers table, but his movement and panting, along with occasional views during the match, confirmed that instead of sitting on a swivel or folding chair the portly porcine was lashed to a sybian.

“But now it’s time for the match that a lot of our material fans have been looking forward to, the Encasement Belt match!” Taj, for his part, had taken advantage of his Raj status, and had gotten intimately acquainted with several front row fans. In fact, at the moment, one could barely see the ear-tips of a lucky caracal head moving up and down, just out of sight of the cameras. But none of his three leather collars had been claimed from in front of him. Moving a hand up, he pushed the owner of the ears down further out of sight.

”We’re sending you over to Sarah now, live backstage with Ruddy and Drone 7, to hear how the latex legion feels tonight is going to go.” The tiger purred, waving the camera on to its other work.

~~~

Backstage Sarah the lioness was standing with the defender for this match. Drone 7. The big, latex encased orca drone was standing at attention, wearing only the trophy that was the encasement belt. He was seven feet of latex bound muscle, nice and shiny and squeaky, topped with the standard Latex Legion drone mask. Every part of him was -big-, from this thick tail to his tree trunk legs, to the big bulge up front sealed away behind a lightly glowing lock symbol. With him was his otter manager Ruddy Butt. He came up only to Drone 7’s pecs, but it was clear he was the one in charge of the drone.

“Thank you Taj. I’m here with Ruddy and Drone 7, who will be defending their belt tonight from Mistress Mercy of the leather twins. It has been a long time coming for -” . The lioness in the red dress was interrupted by the manager who pulled the microphone towards himself.

“It’s been too long in coming, you miserable ‘mistress’ Mercy. I am not going to let you and your brother’s underhanded tactics take what is rightfully ours. My boy, Drone 7, will show you, and show everybody that latex is, now and forever, the rightful champion of the encasement league.” The short otter in the latex three piece suit was fired up, and was shouting directly at the camera. For a moment the camera flicked to the side, looking up at the impassable being that was Drone 7, before the otter grabbed the camera to bring it back to him.

“My boy is indestructible, implacable, undistractible, unyielding, and is a mountainous mass of malleable marine mussel, and will positively pound your perverted pussy for the pin!” As if to demonstrate, Ruddy rubbed over the lock symbol emblazoned on the latex bound orcas crotch. There was a very muffled moan as the bulge swelled and fought against the restraint. The symbol glowed red as it held down the massive erection. “See that? When I release the beast he’s going to show you that you don’t belong anywhere except under a big dick, having your perverted, dangerous little brain fucked silly, just like every other woman.”

“Ahem …”

“Protest all you want Sarah, but I’ve seen where your eyes have been. Here, why don’t you give an example. Drone 7?”

The orca lunged and before she could react Sarah was held tight in a bear hug. Squeezed tight against those squeaky pec’s, her feet kicked helplessly as she was lifted off the ground. Her strappy high heels were thrown to the side and her microphone was dropped as she struggled. Her face was pressed against the drone’s muzzle and a thick pink tongue came out from it, pushing into her mouth. Despite her struggles she started moaning. Shifting to holding her with one arm, the drones dominant hand moved down and reached up under the woman’s skirt. The kicking slowly stopped as her moans deepened. Wet, schlicking sounds came from under her obscuring skirt as she was so physically dominated. The drone’s lock glowed an angry red as he ravished her, and in under thirty seconds Sarah began having a full body shake as she came. The drone then laid her down on the ground, and held his two wet, thick fingers up to the camera, before it cut back to the ringside hosts.

~~~

“Well, if that doesn’t make you want to watch the match, I don’t know what will. Exciting, isn’t it?” Taj said, Charles groaning. Both tiger hands were under the table, one holding down a feline head, the other seemingly stroking something on Charles' side, watching him with a careful eye. Pulling his hand back the boar groaned. Panting, he looked down at the papers in front of him, and then up at the camera.

“Ne, next we g-go tooo-ooh, to Peter who’s, who’s with the Mi-mi-mi-mistress.” He shivered, hunching over, before the camera cut away to the other team.

~~~

The camera cut from the two announcers to a mouse in thick glasses standing between a pair of hyena twins who dwarfed him. It was very hard for those who hadn’t seen the two before to figure out which one of the hyenas was ‘Mistress Mercy’, and who was “Master Manipulator”, as both of them were strikingly androgynous in an incredibly sexy way. Thin waists, curvy hips, thick chest, an undercut with hair that went to their shoulders, and an eye-catching bulge on both of them. Even their many piercings and their tight leather get-up’s were near identical - thigh high leather boots under leather short shorts, a leather coat over a matched, bust boosting corset, and leather gloves. Visually , there were only two things that differentiated them. The first which side the undercut was on and where their hair fell. The second was that the one on the right had sparkly green makeup, and the one on the left sparkly purple makeup, which matched the stitching and accents in their leather encasement.

“Good Evening! I am here with Mistress Mercy and Master Manipulator.” Pete the mouse reporter announced, pointing to his left then this right. Then his eyes went wide. “I mean, Mistress Mercy and Master Manipulator.” He corrected, gesturing to his right then his left. “Currently the only named members of the Leather Association of Wrestlers.” His eyes continued being wide, as each one of the siblings now had a hand on his shoulders, gently holding him in place. He looked slowly from one to the other, but it was hard to tell exactly what sort of smile they had behind those full faced leather masks. The one on the right gently squeezed him, and he obediently handed the microphone to Mistress Mercy.

“Thank you Peter. It’s so nice to see someone who understands proper manners and etiquette. Unlike -some- individuals we can name. My brother and I, and the entirety of the L.A.W., are looking forward to tonight’s match, and the justice that will come from it. After the unprovoked attacks against our family it’s only fitting that R.B. and his over-hyped outfits lose the only thing of value they have: The Encasement Belt. Tonight it’s coming home to a material that will give it the prestige and honor that it deserves, and which deserves it.”

As she talked, the broadcast cut to footage of the L.A.W. Offices being raided in the dead of night by a literal flood of the latex legion. Squeaky, slippery, and wet, the drones crashed through the doors and windows and upended chairs, tables, stands, and everything else that had been meticulously placed to create the proper atmosphere of organization, rank, and obedience. It also showed the ‘night guard-dog’ getting swallowed up in the latex wave and being carried off, their leather uniform being left behind in the wake of the legions destruction, before cutting back to Pete, who was now just with the hyena brother, Master Manipulator.

“Fair warning Ruddy. We’ve tried playing nice, and pursuing justice through the normal channels. But tonight’s a no rules match. While we don’t -like- being underhanded, but we’re not above using every means at our disposal to get fair and just compensation.” He held up a leather mask, fit for an otter face, painted up like a clown. “And if you don’t watch your back, you’ll find out exactly how upstarts get punished by their betters.” The camera panned from the mask to the mouse.

“Very bold words, by some very bold wrestlers. I for one wouldn’t bet against the L.A.W. woman bent on justice. Speaking of, I think I hear her entrance music starting up, back to you Taj.”

~~~

“Indeed, here she comes, Mistressssss Meeeercyyy!” Taj bellowed out as the spotlights in the stadium swiveled to highlight the east entrance to the ring. As her music played she appeared at the top of the ramp to raucous applause. The leather clad dominatrix marched down towards the ring, every step full of power and confidence. She was the leather, and the leather was her. Every move had the flexibility and control that her chosen encasement material did. As she looked out into the sea of faces, she could point, and the target of her attention would swoon or jump or just bask in the attention of Mistress Mercy. As she reached the bottom of the ramp, she walked past her ‘honor guard’ of two leather pups and leather stallions, who snapped to attention, saluting her as she walked past. She saluted them back, and each fell to their knees, bowing before their mistress.

Reaching the ring as the song reached a crescendo she gave a running jump and landed on the edge of the ring. Spinning around, holding onto the top rope with one arm, she raised her fist in the air and was greeted by a cheer from her fans. Slipping into the rings between the second and third rope, she went to each side, getting a cheer from each quarter of the arena, before reaching the center of the ring and striking her mistress pose as the song concluded. Legs spread, one arm down as if holding a leash, the other in the air, holding up a finger to show she was number one.

“What an entrance! It seems that she’s really got the favor of the crowd here tonight. In fact, I think I see fans of the Rubber Ring, the Spandex Squad, the Cuddle Crowd, and even the PVC PMC cheering her on. The Latex Legion sure has not been shy about offending every other encasement organization in the WWFW. It may only be a temporary alliance of convenience, but it looks like every one of them can’t wait to see the L.A.W. take them down.” Taj observed. Kneeling next to him, behind the table, was a caracal fan wearing one of his coveted, claiming collars.

“Indeed. One has to wonder what back room deals were made to secure Mistress Mercy this chance to put the Latex Legion in their place, but that’s something she’ll have to deal with another night. Right now, she’s got to make sure her heads in the game. For the moment, she’s bidding her underlings to leave - there may be no rules for tonight’s match, but the Commissioner has ordered that all encasement organization underlings not part of the match must be securely sequestered, for the safety of the building as a whole.” Charles added. Sweat was running down his body, soaking into the ropes that bound him. But he wasn’t as ‘distracted’ as he had been before. Although it hadn’t been commented on, there were two sacks on the table in front of him, one of leather, the other latex. It seemed the winning organization would get to add in a bit more to the commentators' distractions..

The lights swiveled down casting the arena into shadow before slowly lighting up as the Latex Legions music began playing. It had a deep, almost hypnotic voice repeating ‘Drone Seven’ in the background. The spotlights turned to the west entrance, as did Mistress Mercy’s gaze, but something was off. There was no Drone 7. There was no member of the latex legion. There wasn’t even Ruddy Butt. As the music continued on, the hyena's cocky confidence changed to a cautious worry. As she stood straight, she slowly began scanning the crowd, searching for the black, shiny, blank face of her enemy. As the music continued as he still hadn’t shown, she began moving around hastily, searching the ring, the camera crew, everywhere, looking for where her opponent might spring from. Finally, as the song reached its crescendo, she looked up, just in time to spot the orca falling from the lighting ring on top of her.

The large latex fighter fell onto his opponent, slamming her down into the mat as a hidden otter darted out from under the ring to strike the bell on the timekeeper's table. The crowd swelled at the spectacle of the underhanded tactic. Drone 7 was holding Mistress Mercy to the mat with his formidable bulk, while Ruddy was trying to drag the stunned referee into the ring for a count out. The crowd was booing happily, cheering on the trapped hyena as she struggled to regain her senses after the surprising stun.

“By God, what a surprise attack! This match might literally be over before it started! Charles, did Ruddy’s ringing of the bell really signify the start of the match?”

“It’s a no rules match Taj. Our judges are confirming, but it seems that means that anyone can start the match once both contestants are in the ring.”

The ram referee was stumbly pulled up the corner stairs into the ring. Though he was as shocked as everyone else by the aerial assault, he was getting his bearings about him, encouraged by the pulling of the pushy otter manager. As he dipped through the ropes there were some signs that Mistress Mercy had finally found her strength, but would it be enough? Dropping to the mat, the woolly officiant began the count. Mistress Mercy began to kick and elbow, upsetting the bulk of Drone 7, looking for a weakness, but was still stuck under him.

“One!”

The Hyena got a leg free, grinding her ass back against the locked latex bulge.

“Two!”

With a cry, the pinned challenger pushed back, using her legs to leverage herself under the Orcas tail. The sudden shift in weight gave her the opportunity she needed. With a cry she pulled free, knocking the drone to the side. The Ref jumped up, throwing his arms out.

“No pin!”

As Ruddy yelled at the Referee the Mistress quickly rolled backwards into a headstand, before flipping up onto her feet. The crowd cheered and began chanting. “Make them kneel! Make them kneel! Make them kneel!”

Mistress Mercy turned to her opponent, ready to make Drone 7 pay for that inglorious display. As the big guy struggled to regain his bearings, she quickly swooped in and put him into a headlock. Pulling him back she began to start spanking and slapping those big, jiggly, squeaky latex buns of his. With one final loud >Crack!< she let go and slipped away before he could turn the tables.

“Don’t just stand there, get her!” Ruddy shouted as Drone 7 turned around, his formerly black cheeks now tinged a slight red. The brute charged forward, barely missing Mercy as she jumped to the side. He hit the ropes, stretched them tight, then sailed back across the ring. As he did so he received yet another spank to his rear for his efforts. Mercy raised her arms for her fans, but her triumphant moment was interrupted as her ankles were grabbed by otter hands and yanked back. Her face hit the mat, a grinning Ruddy smirking haughtily behind her.

She turned her head to the side just in time to see Drone 7 coming back after another bounce off the ropes. With a leap he seemed to hang in the air, poised and ready for an incredibly painful elbow drop. But then, Mischief! Her beloved brother had snuck up behind Ruddy and, reaching past the manager, grabbed his sister's legs and pulled. She came sliding off of the mat, slamming crotch first into Ruddy’s surprised face, sending him to the floor. Giving her brother a thankful high five, she re-entered the ring.

Climbing the ropes like a ladder, the leather masked menace leaped onto the prone drones shoulders. Wrapping her legs around his thick neck she grabbed his legs in her arms. With the poise and strength of practice, she pulled him into one of the L.A.W.’s signature moves - the Cowgirl hogtie! Already the Referee was sliding in, landing on the mat next to Drone 7 to see if the latex mountain would tap out.

The brute struggled, twisted, and then found his arms under him.With a mighty shove he rocked back on his knees. Grabbing the ropes he pulled himself up. Stretching, straining his legs, he tried to break the hyena on his back like a rubber band. Finding retreat to be the better part of strategy, Mistress abandoned her leg hold and rolled down behind her opponent. Flipping up onto his legs she began to unleash a flurry of punches into her opponent's back before jumping away as he got to his feet. Fists up, she hopped back and forth from side to side, her loved leather holding her tight and secure.

She had survived his surprise attack and stood ready to give him a real fight. A tight, supple, musky fight.

Drone 7 walked forward, each of the combatants keeping their eyes on the other. They slowly circled until they were in the middle of the ring. 7 held out his fists. Mercy’s eyes flicked up to his face, then back down to his mitts. Quickly she tapped his fists with hers, and resumed her stance. The fight was on for real, and the audience cheered exuberantly!

Circling the center of the ring, searching the other for any openings or weaknesses, both combatants tested the waters, making several feints and exploratory thrusts. The crowd held their breath as the two titans of encasement felt each other out. Latex had the size and strength advantage, but Leather had speed and flexibility. So mismatched, and yet so even. Suddenly a cry rang out!

Mercy’s head snapped to the side where Ruddy had just shot Manipulator. The leather lad had one hand encased in sticky latex pinned to the barrier separating the ring from the audience. Her ears swiveled and her face dropped as she realized how completely she had left herself open, the ring shaking with the thunderous stomps of 7. She was unable to get out of the way as he hit her with a tailphoone, sending her flying into the ropes behind her. Now it was his turn to hold up his arms and receive the cheers of the audience! A small but dedicated group chanted “Surf’s Up! Surf’s Up! Surf’s Up!”

Then the cry of Master Manipulator cut though the air. He had vaulted the barrier, using it to block more shots from Ruddy’s latex launcher. With a kiss he had pulled a front row spectator right off their seat, and now that steel folding chair was flying through the air. It cleared almost the entire ring, passing behind 7, and landed next to Mercy.

Grabbing it she hauled herself to her feet and ran in, striking the drone over the head. It clanged loudly as it knocked him down, the chairs bottom forming to the back of that large head. As he fell she dropped the chair and ran towards the manically laughing, latex launching otter. She vaulted the ropes and came down on him, crumpling the manager into the ground. Ripping the latex launcher out of his hands she tossed it to the side and began whaling on the latex legion leader. With the air clear, Manipulator gave his mark another kiss and grope, and then pulled a vial of latex dissolver out of his utility belt. Removing his restraint, he too joined in on the otter beating. Ruddy begged for help, but Charles was already explaining how the manager had made himself a part of the match, and there was nothing the officials could do for him.

The two’s vengeance was interrupted by creak, a snap, and then two big latex hands. Ruddy’s boy had recovered and made his way to the corner of the ring where he had leaned so far out that he snapped the turnbuckle! Grabbing the leather twins by the back of their necks he threw his lord's attackers across the ring. They more than cleared that, and continued flying straight towards the announcers table. Taj, the Raja of the Ring, showing the reflexes, speed, and power that had elevated him to that position, leaped up onto the table and caught Mistress Mercy by her wrist and ankle. He pivoted on his back leg, spinning her in a half circle in one smooth motion. Releasing his hold,the stored momentum sent her sailing back up into the ring. He returned to his announcing duties, only a little winded.

Charles was on his back, the dazed Master Michfit laying atop him.

Meanwhile the battered Ruddy was gently picked up by his boy and put down on his feet. Glaring up at the woman in the ring he snarled and rolled up his sleeve. Turning to his fighter he pressed his hand to that angry red lock symbol. WIth a ring like the fight bell it turned green and unleashed the beast. A thick cock the length of the otter's arm, shiny and fully covered in latex, burst forth with enough force to throw the barrier in front of it backwards. Those sitting nearby were speckled with the shower of latex that had launched itself during the release.

“Get her.”

With a bellow Drone 7 rushed up onto stage like a crashing wave. He surged onto the winded mistress, hitting her so hard the entire ring bowed inward. Kneeling on top of her legs, his large, shiny cock sliding back and forth across her chest, he began to hit her. A hard right, a harder left, just haymakers one right after the other! When suddenly one hand was caught!

Mistress mercy had sprung back from a punch quicker than 7 could hit again, and as she ducked out of the way his fist got caught behind her head in the collar of her leather jacket. The supple material held onto that latex, causing 7 to pause in confusion. As he tried to figure out what had gone wrong, Mercy freed a fist and gave a quick jab to the base of the orca's cock. He yelped in pain, rearing up as his cock gave some rather unexpectedly showy throbs, giving her enough space to slide out. She had lost her jacket in the scuffle, but she had survived.

The freed ‘yeen danced back and forth, glancing about the arena. Spotting something, she grinned and then went on the attack. Weaving between the drones slower punches she got 7 in the jaw with an uppercut. The big guy stumbled backwards, slumping against one of the remaining turnbuckles. Mercy wasted no time, slipping in there and rubbing herself bodily against his cock. She got considerably more time than a normal punch would give her, but the two of them weren’t the only ones enjoying the show they were putting on. As she ground against that large latex member she was showing off just how deep it would go into her if she allowed it. She was grinning, 7 was dripping, and the audience was drooling. With one big kiss to that latex covered tip, she darted away. Running to the sturdiest of the turnbuckles she bent over, shaking her ass at the aroused orca.

“You’re gonna have to catch me!”

7 roared, surging forward to catch her, just missing as he slammed into the turnbuckle, giving a -very- good look of his member sliding out along the pole to the audience in front of him. He thrusted away impotently as his opponent dodged and weaved her way up towards the stands, always making sure to stay in his line of sight. With a very horny groan he shoved down the turnbuckle with a crack and gave chase, leaving the ring in shambles.

The two of them caused quite the commotion making their way through the arena floor. Heads were turned by the head L.A.W. woman, and then bodies were thrown by the rampage of the latex legionnaire. The mounted cameras near the ring could only keep track of them for so long. But thankfully there was no shortage of camera men running after the action. Sliding under bleachers, vaulting over railings, and weaving between the customers, those faithfull filmers followed the fight as it proceeded up off the arena floor and into the stands!

~~~

“Well now, who could have seen this Encasement Belt match getting so out of bounds!” Taj said, grinning straight at the camera, gently petting the kneeling caracal next to them. “Why don’t we share our thoughts with the audience at home while Mistress Mercy leads Drone 7 on a merry chase. What say you Charles?”

“I, oh, I had begun to hope that the table might survive the night.” his co-host panted out, having been righted at some point after his sudden introduction to Master Manipulators posterior. The table in front of him was clearly cracked, held together with some very hastily applied duct tape.

“Oh, come now, my side is perfectly intact. And you don’t look too upset about your brush with the L.A.W.” The femboy in question was nowhere to be found,, but he had left his mark with several pretty, perfectly placed purple kiss marks here and there on the tied up announcer.

“Perhaps … It has been a rather entertaining match so far, has it not? Both sides are really taking that ‘no rules’ rule to heart. These two fighters are giving the audience everything they want - smashes, crashes, and now, utter lewdity. We may yet see our first R rated fight of the night yet folks.”

“That’s right, and - Oh, it looks like something happening. We take you back to the scene, live!”

~~~

Up in the stands Drone 7 had finally caught up to Mistress Mercy as she was climbing the service ladder to reach the area above the skyboxes. A tossing rush forward had ended with him grabbing her by the legs, dragging her back down. The tomboy fought to hang on, but as the metal of the ladder began to creak they made a desperate move. Releasing the ladder with one hand they reached down and quickly pulled at the laces of their boots. The audience was on their feet, roaring as they struggled, Drone 7 shaking her like a dog with a toy, Mistress Mercy desperately trying to free herself from his clutches. Then, in one switch move, Drone 7 went crashing down into the (now empty) seats underneath him, and Mercy got away, sans her leather boots.

Her thighs were drenched, her body was covered in sweat, and the leather lady had never looked better. Catching her breath for a moment she paced to the edge, looking over the long fall to the stands below. A clang of metal signaled the end of her break as the squeaky black orca had followed her up onto the roof of the VIP rooms.

There they stood, facing one another again. Him, still covered head to toe in the clinging latex. Her, down to just ‘accessories’, the two of them staring each other down though their masks, their breath hot with the rush of the fight, and the needs of their bodies. Then, a burst of movement! A flash of pink from the Mistress, and the roar of the overly edged orca. He charged straight at her, feet thumping along on those roofs, threatening to cave them in with each thunderous stride. Just as he reached her, she fell backwards! It was too late for him to stop! Three hundred and fifty pounds of latex wrapped beefcake went flying off the edge. He stared in shock at Mercy, hanging from her brother's arms though the open window of a private box. The audience held their breath as he fell towards the cement floor below.

And landed in the large container of beach-balls from earlier in the show!

Mercy was lowered down towards the ball pit by Manipulator until he was hanging out of the window by his feet. She pulled up to give her brother a kiss, and then dropped back to let go, safely falling the few feet to the edge of the ball-pit. Balancing on it she turned around and held a fist in the air, and the crowd cheered. She watched as the WWFW crew removed the beach balls, then jumped down onto the flattened drone.

From the outside the cameras could catch the leather mistress rubbing her fat, barely covered by short-shorts bottom up and down along the top of 7’s latex shaft. She had his arms pinned to the floor, and was cradling his balls with her feet. Rhythmically she began to slide her ass up and down that monster, moaning with pleasure as she held him down, dominating him.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Shh, shh, no words. I know how much you're hurting. Just give in. Give up. Beg for Mercy, and you’ll get her.” She stage-whispered to him, leaning forward to let her leather corset glide against his latex pecs. He shivered under her, his cock dribbling the black, latex goo as she raised her ass, letting him feel the warmth of her pussy pressed so close to the tip, while at the same time driving her knee into his damaged thigh.

7 could do nothing but grunt in response, his cock squeaking against her fat cheeks. He laid there, half buried in inflatable balls, his own aching as much as his back did. It took a long minute for the referee to get to the two's location. There may be no rules, but they still needed an official to end the match. As he approached he found space as the crew continued to remove intact and deflated balls.

“Do you yield?”

“ …. Mmmmmfffn.”

“Tap the ground three times if you yield.”

The large hand came up and back down, tapping once.

“That’s it big guy.”

The large hand came up and back down a second time.”

“Fuck yeah!”

The large hand came up and -

“EAT WATER HUSSIE!”

Running out of the stage area behind them came Ruddy, carrying a firehose! Pulling back on the handle he hit Mistress Mercy square in the chest, sending her flying back into the audience.

“7, My boy! Don’t worry, I’m here!” Ruddy tossed the hose to the side, the still active torrent of water knocking down at least two camera men and causing a small stampede of viewers. The manager ran over to his fighter and gently helped him up, stroking his head. “You’re a champion, you hear me? You’re not going to let something like a thirty five foot fall foil you! You saw how much she wants your cock. No need to beg. Go! Make her take it!”

With renewed energy from his managers pep talk the orca peeled himself off the floor and pulled himself upright. He pounded on his chest and with a mighty trumpeting though his blowhole he chased after the blasted tease. With each step with his large, black, latex covered feet on the wet floor he seemed to absorb power from the water underneath him. With each step he gained speed. With each step he drew closer to his target. And with each step his cock throbbed mightily in front of him as he sought to turn the fire of the fight into something a lot more intimate.

Mistress Mercy had struggled her way back to the wrestling ring. She seemed to be suffering almost as badly from blue balls as she had made her opponent. While they had been out in the stands, stage ninjas had fixed the broken turnbuckles, which she began climbing up as soon as she reached the ring. But just as she stood on top of the post, her legs were grabbed and she was yanked backwards. Her chest slammed into the turnbuckle, knocking all the wind from her. Her legs were pulled apart and a -very- horny latex orca ripped her leather shorts off with his teeth and began to hungrily snack on ring-side pussy.

Drone 7 held on tight to the lady's lovely legs, spreading her thighs wide, holding her at mouth height. With cameramen swarming, angling to get a good shot, he put on a show for everyone watching. Pressing his big round nose between her cheeks, he spread her lower lips with his long, wet tongue. It showed off just how strong he was as it pressed against her, gathering all of the woman's excitement before pushing into her cunt. Mercy shook, trying to get breath back, fighting both against the metal pressing into her lungs, and her bodies needy, wanton moaning. He was dominating her, teasing her. A skilled tongue technique kept her on edge and just this side away from cumming. Because while it was very clear he could, it simply wouldn’t do to reward her that way for how she had treated him. No, now she needed to beg him first if she was going to give in.

Once again the ram ref had run to keep up with the two athletes. Giving a wide berth to Drone 7 they slid into the ring and approached Mercy, who was struggling to find any sort of leverage to push herself up or away from her attacker … or back into him. As the ref approach she growled at him. He paused, but then came forward anyway. He spoke loudly and clearly over the wet smacking, licking, sucking sounds coming from behind her.

“Do you yield?”

“Nnnnnngh, fuuuuuuuck.”

“Come on bitch, give in. Let my boy show you a good time. I bet you’ll love being my newest latex plaything.” Ruddy goaded gleefully

“Fuck Yooooooooouuuuuuhhhhh~” She dissolved into a moan, 7’s tongue pulling back to press into her ass.

“Do you yield?”

This time he was only answered by panting. Slowly, she let go of the rope and let her arm dangle, and held it over the turnbuckle. Suddenly 7 gave a very low thrum, vibrating his curved tongue against her clit. With a squeal she tapped the turnbuckle once. Then 7 pulled back. The audience was on their feet, chanting. “Fuck their ass! Fuck their ass! Fuck their ass!” It might have been a little unclear what their meaning was, but with the amount of leather masks and signs being waved, it was clear they didn’t want to see their hero go down.

But then the second tap came.

And then there was a loud screech. Drone 7 fell backwards, right onto Ruddy, revealing Manipulator under the skirt of the ring, taser in hand. With the small scorch mark and smoke from the orcas balls, it was fairly clear what had happened. Standing up, the Master helped the Mistress down off the turnbuckle. Then they turned to Ruddy, who was trying to rouse his drone. A left from the right, and a right from the left, and the otter went down.

“Why don’t you take him as a consolation prize, Manipulator. I’m ready to claim mine.”

“Sure thing. Can I get a bottle of lube from the announcers table?”

The tiger tossed him a bottle of bunny boi lube, and Master Manipulator dragged the protesting manager back under the ring to have his way with him, waving the clown mask and taking just a moment to hand the Mistress her riding crop.

“Now then, I think you and I were in the middle of something …” Mercy quipped as she walked over to where the Drone lay slumped against the barrier. Already a few of the braver members of the audience had gotten in close, daring to touch, to stroke the famous drone. But she weaved them all away with the crop. Then she traced it down his face. Pressing his hips with her knee she literally climbed the bigger man, sliding her hot, needy cunt against the top of his cock.

“Come on now, you know what you need to do …” She cooed to him, caressing his face with little kisses and nips, the crop stroking and striking along his big, smooth, bruised and beaten body. The big man tapped once … Tapped twice … and held for a moment, groaning under the pressure above and behind him. Finally, as Mistress Mercy mounted him and began to slide down, taking his cock inside of her he tapped a third time, and the bell rang.

“That’s it ladies and gentlemen and others! Mistress Mercy has won the Encasement belt! I’m sure she’ll have all sorts of issues to deal with for the deals she made to get here, but right now she seems a bit more preoccupied with the enemy within, then the enemy without, wouldn’t you say Charles?”

“In-indeed I would Taj. With the sun going down, we have our first on camera action of the night. And what action it is too! Just look at that stretch, and the control. Mistress Mercy sure knows how to ride a wild stallion, so to speak.”

“That is true! Now, the ring is going to be empty for a short bit while the ring is checked for safety for the next match, but don’t go anywhere! We’ve got all the hot Sizzle Slam action you could want!” As he talked, Taj began to get drowned out by the slapping, moaning, rutting sound of the two fighters enjoying Mercy’s victory.

[center][u]The End … For Now[/u][/center]

Summary: In the Encasement Belt match for Sizzle Slam, the Wild World of Fettish Wrestlings' premiere summer event, Mistress Mercy of the Leather Association of Wrestlers is challenging Drone 7 of the Latex Legion. It’s a ‘no rules’ match, so anything can happen, beyond the normal lewdity of the WWFW’s normal sexualized combat.

Tags: Sex Fight, Wrestling, Wrestling Match, Wrestling League, Feline, Tiger, Lion, Pig, Orca, Otter, Rodent, Mouse, Hyena, Ram, Alliteration, Latex, Leather, Mask, Masks, Encasement, Drone, Manager, Domination, Questionable Consent, Twins, Incests, Male on Female, Female on Male, Tomboy, Femboy, Dominant Female, Dominant Male, Falling Damage, Grapple, Steel Chair, Assault, Forced Stripping, Property Damage, Trickery, Teasing, Cunnilingius, Light CBT, Taser, Vaginal intercourse, Victory, Defeat.