Lily
Oh my god. This is really happening. This is not a dream.
I showed up at Petey’s, not knowing what to expect. The parking lot was empty, which surprised me. Weren’t we supposed to be performing in front of crowd?
So with a trembling hand, I opened the front door to the gym, bells tinkling.
“Hello?” I called, poking my head in. The gym was dark, but that was normal, seeing that it was 9 p.m. “Hello?” I called futilely.
Finally, a woman appeared dressed in a tiny cocktail dress. Her frame was thin and elegant, hair and make-up perfectly done. The fancy outfit looked completely out of place at the shabby gym, but at this point, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Welcome,” the woman said. “I’m Carlinda. Please follow me.”
Follow her? Where would we go? By now, I knew Petey’s as well as anyone else, and the grimy halls and used exercise equipment were as familiar as the back of my hand. But I nodded imperceptibly and Carlinda began to walk. To my surprise, she took me to the back where Petey’s office was.
“Wait, we can’t go in there,” I said. “That’s Petey’s private space.”
Too late. Carlinda had already opened the door, and to my surprise, it was unlocked.
“Follow me, please,” she said smoothly. I stepped into the office and it looked no different than the few times I’d seen it. Just a giant desk with stacks and stacks of paper on it, not to mention assorted shabby furniture that belonged at a rummage sale.
But Carlinda proceeded to a closet, one hand out. When she opened the door, I saw that it wasn’t a closet, but rather a gleaming steel elevator.
“Follow me, please,” came her pleasantly modulated voice.
Hesitantly, I moved into the silver chamber, the door swiftly sliding shut behind my form. We descended in silence for what felt like forever. How far were we below the surface of the earth? At least ten stories for sure.
But finally, the elevator glided to a halt and the door opened to reveal a gleaming white antechamber. It was futuristic and a little scary-looking.
“What?” I stammered. “Where are we?”
Carlinda shot me a knowing look.
“Battle Bang is a private club and values discretion,” she said smoothly. “All of our operations are conducted below ground so as not to attract curious eyes.”
I nodded dumbly. The room was featureless but obviously modern and high-tech. Bright lights illuminated our shadows, and Carlinda paused once we were outside.
“Because you’re new to Battle Bang, you will not be able to use the women’s locker room,” she said. “Please undress here, and I’ll lead you to the ring.”
I gaped.
“Wh-what? Here? But …?” The words died on my lips.
“But what?” she asked pleasantly like nothing was wrong.
I shook my head dumbly.
“But nothing,” was my subdued reply. “I’ll get ready here, no problem.” Because there wasn’t really any “getting ready” to do. Shaft had ordered me to wear my flimsiest panties, and I’d done so. So slowly, I looked around the room suspiciously, making sure there were no cameras, before slowly stripping off my clothes. And finally, I stood before Carlinda in nothing but a tiny pair of black tanga undies. The look was seductive, but not overly so because tangas provide full coverage without being granny-like. They covered my front adequately, and the leg holes were low enough to look sweet but not prudish.
But Carlinda took one look at my panties and the expression on her face froze.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Before I could say anything, the woman disappeared into a door in the wall. I swear, there hadn’t been a door a moment earlier, but she pressed something, and suddenly a slot opened and she was gone.
Great. Now what? I stood in nothing but a pair of panties in a featureless white room. What was going on?
But soon Carlinda appeared again, this time bearing a silver platter.
“Here,” she said smoothly. “Please put these on these instead.”
I blinked because there was something on the platter, but it wasn’t more than the tiniest scrap of lace. Literally not more than two strings connected together with a tiny piece of fabric laced in between them.
“You must be kidding,” I breathed, staring at the tiny red cloth. “Who wears lingerie like that?”
Carlinda’s expression brooked no nonsense.
“You,” she said firmly. “And all the other girls who wrestle.”
With disbelieving fingers, I plucked the cloth from the platter.
“This?” I asked. “This is a postage stamp at best!”
Postage stamp wasn’t a metaphor. There couldn’t have been more than one square inch of material strung between two flimsy ties.
But Carlinda’s expression remained expressionless.
“Please put it on,” she said with a frozen smile. “And then we’ll proceed to the ring.”
I shook my head, contemplating my options. On the one hand, I could refuse and go home. I’d probably never see Shaft again, which meant that I’d descend into depression and my life would be ruined. Not to mention I’d lose my trust fund.
Or, I could put on this scrap of nothing and let myself go with the flow. This way, I’d feel Shaft’s hard cock in my pussy, the man’s penis jerking and twitching as he pumped his virile goodness into me. I could finally count myself as a woman, instead of a dumpy, awkward girl forced to go to the gym by her stepmom.
The choice was clear. With trembling hands, I stripped my tanga off and slowly stepped into the g-string. Oh god, it was so small. The postage stamp barely covered my clit, vag lips puffing out around the sides. And there was nothing but a string between my butt cheeks, disappearing into my crack before reappearing at waist level and connecting to another string around my hips.
Oh god. This was really happening, and yet I wanted it. I wanted Shaft to see me like this, and to lose control in front of others. I wanted him to be so big and horny that he couldn’t control his actions, burrowing that hot cock into my folds until I screamed.
So I took a deep breath and looked Carlinda in the eye.
“I’m ready,” came my tight voice.
She smiled like a Cheshire cat.
“Of course,” the woman said smoothly. “Put these on please, and then I’ll take you to the ring.”
Somehow, from somewhere, a pair of red stilettos had appeared, sky high and precarious.
“I’m going to wear those while wrestling?” I asked disbelievingly. “How does that work?”
Carlinda’s face was as smooth as a stone.
“You’ll be allowed to take them off once inside the ring,” she said. “But you’ll need these for the walk. It’s good marketing,” she said. “You’ll see.”
My head spinning, slowly I put them on. Everything felt different once the stilettos sheathed my feet. I was five inches taller for one. Not only that, but the heels forced my already enormous breasts out, the tips swaying this way and that as my hips were pulled in, my stomach sucking in on itself.
Carlinda eyed me critically before nodding with approval.
“Perfect,” she said. “Come along now.”
And pressing another invisible button, a door slid open in the wall, with a long hallway reaching into the darkness. Teetering, I followed the woman into the hallway.
“Carlinda,” I said hesitantly. But then my words stopped. Because the hallway wasn’t just any hallway. There were men on both sides, seated, laughing and talking as she proceeded to walk me through the tunnel. It was like walking down a runway as all around my form, handsome males drank liquor, smoked cigars, and eyed my naked body.
Because the truth of what I was doing crashed down once again. I was completely nude except for a tiny g-string and red stilettos, every single inch of my body nude and available. My curves swung lushly with every movement, nipples hard and tempting.
“Come on,” said Carlinda, turning and fixing me with a stare. “Come Lily.”
Slowly, I made my way into the hallway, taking one slow step after another. It wasn’t quite as bad as I expected. I thought the billionaires would leer like disgusting dogs, but instead they merely shot a couple glances my way, letting their eyes trail over my curves while continuing to drink and laugh.
I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes fixed forward even as my skin heated under those scorching looks. Because to my shame, I liked showing off my assets to these obviously powerful and wealthy men. I liked the way masculine eyes assessed my girls, how their gazes ran hungrily from my breasts to my cunt, and then back again.
And to my shame, my pussy began moistening under the g-string. Oh god, could they see? Was that postage stamp of fabric getting dark with my juices? I didn’t want to bend my head to look, but I could feel myself getting wet inside, the unmistakable aroma of hungry cunt filling the air.
And finally, the gauntlet was over. We walked for what felt like a mile, but was probably only a hundred feet.
“This is only a beginner’s crowd,” soothed Carlinda as she pressed another button. “This is nothing like the championship round.”
My cheeks flushed. What? Championship round? What was Battle Bang exactly? It clearly wasn’t some fly-by-night production in the basement of Petey’s gym. Instead, this was a world of wealth, power, and domination that I’d never imagined even in my dreams.
So taking one last deep breath, I stepped through the doorway and into a brightly lit ring. My eyes blinked, squinting against the glare. There were nets draped around the square space, plus a giant blue mat clearly meant for wrestling. Somehow, all the men who’d been into the hallway had migrated to surround the ring, sitting in plush recliners while continuing to smoke and drink.
But I didn’t care about them anymore because I had eyes only for one man.
Shaft.
He stood on the other side of the floor, arms folded across his chest, feet planted apart. And oh god, but he was delectable. The man’s muscles bulged, his skin gleaming under the lights. Those pecs were hard slabs of meat, his abs tight and taut. My alpha wore something that was a cross between a towel and shorts, pure white fabric swathed around his hips loosely with bulging thighs underneath.
And immediately, every fear flew out of my head. Because this was the moment I was born for. To belong to him. To be his. To submit to the hard male … while mewling with pleasure.