DT Wrestling Arena

LaceyP: As the arena lights dim and the opening twang of "Sweet Home Alabama" echoes through the speakers, I step out onto the entrance ramp with my heart pounding, tipping the brim of my brown cowgirl hat to the roaring crowd while a spotlight catches me in all my tiny glory, 5'2" and barely 92 lbs, my white thigh high fishnet stockings shimmering under the glow, hugging my slender legs all the way down to my crisp white boots that click defiantly against the steel. I strut forward with as much swagger as I can muster, my minuscule daisy dukes riding scandalously high and crawling halfway up my pert little butt, the frayed denim edges teasing the audience as I sway my hips, my modest 32b chest rising and falling beneath the tight brown top tied off with a bold red bandana that flutters like a challenge flag. I blow a kiss to the fans cheering my underdog spirit, spinning once to let them drink in the full view of this pint sized cowgirl daring to face the amazon I get the unfortunate opportunity to face tonight, my hair whipping under the hat as I slide under the bottom rope and hop to my feet, raising my arms in a fearless pose even though I know Shanique's towering 6-foot, 186-pound frame is about to make me look like a snack tonight.

LaceyP:

LaceyP:

ShaniqueSupreme: I was informed last minute that I would be having a match together against some wannabe little cowgirl country bitch. No matter, I didn’t need time to prepare. I was there to put on a show, and make a statement. Always a statement. About what happens when someone dares to cross me or step into the ring with me. It didn’t matter who my opponent was, the goal was the same, their destruction. And I was VERY good at that. My music hits and I step out to the top of the stage next. With no fanfare, pure business, at 6’0 and nearly 190lbs of pure muscle, my opponent didn’t matter. But I saw you there, down in the ring, in all of your 5’2, 90lb glory. And a small grin adorned my lips. Oh the fun I was going to have tonight. As I walked calmly and confidently, with a stern smirk on my face as I hop up onto the apron, and bring my long leg up, over the top rope, showcasing flexibility on top of power, stepping over and into the ring. I glance around, amused. You were even smaller than I had expected. Poor little thing. I glare at you in your corner, “You’re going to regret climbing into this ring, white girl” I say coldly before taking to the far corner opposite you.

LaceyP: As the arena lights pulse and the heavy bass of Shanique's entrance music thumps through the speakers like a warning shot, I stand frozen in my corner, my white boots rooted to the mat while my heart slams against my ribs, watching in wide eyed awe as this absolute amazon emerges at the top of the stage, 6 feet tall and carved from nearly 190 lbs of pure, rippling muscle, towering over everyone and everything like a goddess of destruction. She moves with cold, deliberate confidence, no wasted motion, no acknowledgment of the cheering crowd, just that stern smirk curling her full lips as her eyes lock onto me, and I feel myself shrink even smaller in my tiny daisy dukes and fishnet stockings, suddenly hyper aware of how ridiculous my little cowgirl getup must look against her overwhelming presence. She hops effortlessly onto the apron and swings one endlessly long, powerful leg over the top rope, the motion slow and flexing every sculpted muscle in her thigh and calf, stepping down into the ring like she already owns it, and me. My breath catches when her dark eyes fix on me again, that small, predatory grin widening as she takes in my tiny frame, and I instinctively press back against the turnbuckle, my hands gripping the ropes while my gaze darts frantically around the ring, searching the crowd for sympathy that isn't coming, glancing at the referee as if he might call this off, eyeing the space under the bottom rope like a trapped animal wondering if I could just slide out and run, anything to escape the terrifying reality of what’s about to happen. Then her voice cuts through the air, low and icy “You’re going to regret climbing into this ring, white girl” and a cold shiver races down my spine, my bravado evaporating as I realize there’s no way out, no escape, just me and this unstoppable force in the opposite corner, waiting for the bell to seal my fate.

ShaniqueSupreme: I see the fear in your face, your demeanor. You already regret accepting the match, that much is clear. But as the bell rings, there is nothing you can do about it now. I just smirk. As I push off from my corner, and take a few long strides towards the center of the ring. Flexing and letting you see me and all my glory, that glory whose wrath is about to crash down onto you. I step towards the center of the ring, taking my stance, casual, not defensive. Clearly not taking you seriously in the slightest. I put my arm up and curl my fingers in a come bring it gesture. “Show’s started, white girl, let’s see what you got.” I taunt with a cold, emotionless tone

LaceyP: The bell clangs sharply through the arena, and the second it sounds, adrenaline surges through my tiny body like wildfire, drowning out the fear for just a moment, I can't just stand here and let her toy with me, I have to fight, have to show the crowd and myself that this little cowgirl has some fire. Shanique is already striding toward the center, her massive frame looming larger with every step, muscles rippling under the lights as she flexes shamelessly, that cold smirk never leaving her face while she raises one powerful arm and beckons me with a lazy curl of her fingers, her voice dripping with disdain as she calls me "white girl" again. My boots pound the mat as I explode out of my corner, hair whipping behind me, heart racing so hard I can barely breathe in my tight brown top, I dart straight at the giantess like a bullet, using every ounce of my speed and what little weight I have, leaping off the canvas with both legs extended in a desperate dropkick aimed square at those rock-hard abs she's so proudly displaying. For a split second airborne, the crowd roars in surprise at my boldness, my white fishnets flashing and daisy dukes riding even higher as I fly toward her midsection, praying against all odds that I can at least make her feel something, anything, before the inevitable storm hits me.

ShaniqueSupreme: I continue watching you with amusement as I take to the center of the ring, and wait. Beckoning you. You are nothing but another pathetic weak little white bitch to me, and you will learn that the hard way tonight. I smirk, encouraging you further, wanting to make you angry. And of course, it works. Despite your fear, you let it consume you, knowing you need to fight, despite the insurmountable odds, you want to go down swinging. How quaint. And just like a raging bull…well more like a raging chihuahua, you charge out of your corner after a few unceremonious stomps of your boots in a little temper tantrum. Racing towards me. My grin never wavers, and I watch as you charge. Leaping into the air. Such an amusing sight as I take a swift step to the side as you leap up, side-stepping out of the way with ease and letting you dropkick nothing but the air as you fall down to the canvas. “I expected better of you, white girl” I taunt coldly

LaceyP: My boots slam into empty air as Shanique sidesteps with infuriating ease, her massive frame moving like she’s swatting away a fly, and I crash chest first onto the hard canvas with a sharp thud that knocks the wind out of me for a split second, the impact jolting through my body, a stinging ache blooming across my ribs and breasts beneath my tight brown top, but I refuse to stay down. Gritting my teeth, I push up quickly, ignoring the dull pain radiating through my torso and the crowd’s mix of sympathetic gasps and excited murmurs, my cowgirl hat went flying off my head as I missed the droplick. Fire burns in my cheeks from her cold taunt “I expected better of you, white girl” and I shoot her a defiant glare through the strands of hair falling across my face, my legs scrambling beneath me as I surge back to my feet in one fluid, desperate motion. Without pausing to think, I charge again, boots pounding the mat like thunder in my ears, building as much speed as my short legs can manage before I leap high toward that towering amazon, extending my right arm in a wild clothesline aimed straight across her chest or neck, praying my momentum and the element of surprise might at least stagger her massive frame, my shorts riding up even higher with the effort, every eye in the arena locked on this tiny cowgirl throwing herself recklessly at the lioness once more.

ShaniqueSupreme: Again, I watch with an amused smirk at this little white girl. Watching you flail onto the canvas with a thud. Crashing down after your humiliating “dropkick”. Taunting you coldly, watching as you work your way back up to your feet. You were nothing to me but a toy. I could end you in a moment, but this was a show after all, and I wanted to have my fun. Seeing your hair flailing over your face. Your amusing resolve. You get up, and give that defiant glare. “Something wrong, white girl?” I taunt again when you start charging, little chihuahua. I plant my feet firm, knowing you won’t go for the dropkick again, watching, and biding my time as you take your little strides. Planting one leg back, and one leg forward. As you leap, your arm extending outwards as you jump into the air to try and deliver a little clothesline, I lower myself ever so slightly, and as your right arm comes up and approaches, I twist my body in a swift, powerful motion, in a quarter circle as I aim to drive my right shoulder and arm as hard as I can square into your little airborne frame as you connect

LaceyP: My boots barely touch the mat before I'm launching myself forward again, my hair snapping like a whip, cheeks burning with humiliation and fury as Shanique's mocking voice "Something wrong, white girl?" rings in my ears, her amused smirk fueling my reckless charge across the ring. I can feel the crowd's energy shift, some cheering for the tiny cowgirl still fighting, others already laughing at the mismatch, but all I see is her towering frame planted solidly in the center, legs braced like ancient oaks as she watches me come with that predatory patience. Desperate to land something, anything, I spring upward with everything my body has, extending my right arm in a clothesline aimed right across her broad chest, my fishnet stockings flashing and shorts hiking dangerously high mid-air for one fleeting heartbeat I think I might actually connect, might make this amazon feel me, but then her body twists like a coiled spring, dropping just low enough before exploding forward, and her massive right shoulder slams into my airborne midsection with devastating force. The impact hits like a freight train crashing into a doll, driving every ounce of air from my lungs in a sharp, pained gasp, folding my tiny frame brutally over her unyielding shoulder as pain explodes through my ribs and stomach, the world spinning violently while my brown top rides up from the sheer power of the collision, leaving me dazed and helpless in mid-air, knowing the brutal landing is only seconds away and I end landing with a THUD! I can only lay there with a drunken look in my eyes as I just breathe and unmoving.

ShaniqueSupreme: You rush forward and jump, and my shoulder twirls, crashing into you. A whirlwind of destruction as your little shriek echoes through the venue. The crowd agasp at the brutal display as your body crumbles onto the canvas, heaving. I stand over you, straightening myself up and looking down at you there on the mat. I smirk. Lifting my foot and placing it down on to your chest, letting you feel my weight as I grind it into you. Holding you against the canvas. With your shoulders down, the ref quickly slides and pounds his hand onto the mat “ONE…TWO…” I quickly remove my boot. “You’re not getting off that easy, white girl” I taunt coldly. “Get up.” I command

LaceyP: My desperate clothesline turns into a nightmare the instant Shanique's massive shoulder twists and spears directly into my midsection with bone crushing force, the impact ripping a high pitched shriek from my lips that echoes through the entire arena as my tiny body folds like paper around her unmovable frame, every bit of air exploding from my lungs while sharp, searing pain radiates through my ribs and stomach. I crumple to the canvas in a helpless heap, hair spilling across the mat as I gasp and heave for breath, my slender legs kicking weakly in their fishnet stockings while my shorts ride up embarrassingly high from the violent collision. The crowd's collective gasp barely registers as Shanique looms over me like a victorious goddess, her shadow swallowing my crumpled form, and then her boot comes down heavy on my heaving chest, pressing my modest 32b breasts flat beneath the sole, grinding her weight into me until my shoulders are pinned helplessly to the mat and I can feel every ounce of her dominance crushing down. The ref slides in fast, his hand slapping the canvas "ONE... TWO..." and for a terrifying second I think it's over already, but she lifts her foot just as quickly, releasing me with a cold taunt, "You're not getting off that easy, white girl", her voice dripping with menace as she commands me to get up. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes from the pain and humiliation, my body trembling as I clutch my aching midsection, but that stubborn spark inside refuses to die. Coughing and wheezing, I roll to my side and slowly push myself up on shaky arms, glaring up at the towering amazon through strands of disheveled hair, forcing my wobbly legs beneath me because no matter how much it hurts, I'm not done fighting yet.

ShaniqueSupreme: I look down on you with disdain. The disdain and vitriol I feel for all you inferior white girls. But there was nothing I enjoyed more than showing you just how much better I was than you. And that was on clear display right now, and your stubbornness, classic white girl, was also on display, playing right into my hands, my game. As you rolled over, and pushed yourself up slowly, my smirk never faltered, never wavered, just watched with amusement, waiting. Biding. “Let me show you how it’s done, white girl” I say with a sadistic flare, as you get back to your wobbling legs. I can see both fear and hatred in your eyes, a tear streaking down your cheek. How delicious. And just as soon as you rise to your shaking legs, my long legs take a swift stride forward as my own comes out and drives forward with full, unforgiving force as I try to blast a clothesline into your chest, as if trying to drive it straight through you with all my might

LaceyP: My chest heaves as I finally push myself up from the mat, legs trembling beneath me like a newborn foal, every muscle screaming in protest while hot tears blur my vision. one slipping traitorously down my cheek as I wipe it away with the back of a shaking hand, hating how weak I must look under Shanique's disgusted glare. She towers there, unmoved and merciless, her dark eyes gleaming with pure contempt for "inferior white girls" like me, that sadistic smirk widening as she drinks in my fear and fury, savoring the moment like it's her favorite part of the show. "Let me show you how it’s done, white girl," she purrs with venomous delight, and before I can even steady myself on my wobbly boots, her impossibly long leg strides forward in one explosive motion, her massive arm whipping across like a steel beam aimed straight at my chest. There's no time to duck, no time to move. I barely manage to throw my arms up in a feeble guard before her clothesline crashes into me with earth shattering force, the impact lifting my tiny body clean off the canvas and sending me flipping backward through the air in a blur of white fishnets and frayed daisy dukes. Pain explodes across my chest and arms like I've been hit by a truck, my breath stolen completely as I crash down hard onto the mat on my back, head bouncing off the canvas while stars burst behind my eyelids, my red bandana fluttering loose and my brown top twisted painfully, leaving me sprawled and gasping at her feet once again, the crowd roaring at the brutal display of power that just reminded everyone exactly why this amazon is untouchable.

ShaniqueSupreme: You go crashing down hard into the canvas, fluttering and twitching about. The crowd roaring at this obscene display of power and dominance, enjoying seeing the little white girl ragdolled around like nothing. I straddle over you, looking down at you with that cold disdain. “Your pain is just beginning, white girl” as I bend forward, reaching my arms down, letting my hands take your throat as you lie there, I give a squeeze as I set my grip. Then begin to pull my arms out, dragging your little body along the mat, sliding you out from under my legs as I begin to lift, with my hands on your throat, bringing my arms up and dragging you slowly back up to your feet. “Let’s go for a ride, white girl” I taunt with that sadistic smirk and cold emotionless tone as I keep one hand on your throat, and slide the other down towards your crotch, gripping as I lean down, then hoist you up, as if you were nothing, lifting you up into the air by your throat and crotch up over my head in a gorilla press. Extending my arms up high. I begin bending my elbows down and up down and up, doing reps with you above my head as I parade you around the ring, letting all the fans see

LaceyP: My world is nothing but agony and humiliation as Shanique's brutal clothesline flips me through the air and slams me onto the canvas, my back arching in pain while my legs kick weakly against the mat, chest burning like fire where her massive arm connected, leaving me sprawled and gasping like a broken doll at her feet amid the crowd's thunderous approval of her raw power. Before I can even think about rolling away or sucking in a full breath, her towering frame straddles over me, those endless muscular legs framing my tiny, twitching body as she looks down with icy contempt, her words "Your pain is just beginning, white girl" sending fresh terror through me just as her strong hands clamp around my slender throat, squeezing just enough to make my eyes bulge and my hands instinctively claw at her unbreakable grip. I choke out feeble gasps, my boots scraping uselessly against the mat as she drags me sliding across it like I'm weightless, hoisting me slowly upright until my wobbly legs barely support me, tears streaming freely now down my flushed cheeks while I stare up in wide eyed panic at her sadistic smirk. My heart sinks as one hand stays locked on my throat while the other slides shamelessly down between my thighs, gripping my crotch through the scandalously hiked daisy dukes, the intimate hold making me squirm in mortified helplessness before she leans down and explodes upward, effortlessly pressing my entire body high overhead in a gorilla press like I'm a featherweight barbell. mtc

LaceyP: The arena lights spin dizzyingly above me as she extends her arms fully, my limbs dangling limply, shorts riding even higher and exposing everything while my modest chest heaves desperately for air, the crowd roaring louder with every rep she pumps, down and up, down and up, parading me around the ring like a trophy of her superiority, my arms flopping weakly as I whimper and sob in utter defeat, knowing every second stretched out in this humiliating display only cements how completely owned I am by this unstoppable amazon.

ShaniqueSupreme: The crowd erupts in raucous laughter and cheering at this display of power and mercilessness. Seeing the little white girl put in her place. Didn’t matter that many of them were racist themselves, they came to enjoy destruction, and seeing that on display made them happy. This cute little “cowgirl” being utterly helpless against the behemoth with no care for her. I continue to parade you around the ring with a few more reps up and down before I make our way to a corner, turning so my shoulders are facing the turnbuckles and the center of the ring, with your head pointed to the center. I extend my arms up high, holding you there. “You know what my favorite game is?” I ask you coldly as you continue to sob and whimper in my grasp. I curl my elbows, lowering you down, holding you ever so slightly above my head, wanting to make sure you hear the answer. “It’s called ‘White Girl Toss’” My smirk widens as I suddenly thrust my arms up and out towards the center of the ring, finally releasing you and sending you twirling through the air across the ring trying to see just how far I can throw this pathetic little white girl

LaceyP: The arena spins wildly around me as Shanique parades my limp, sobbing body overhead like a worthless trophy, her powerful arms pumping me up and down with effortless reps that make my tiny frame jolt helplessly, my shorts wedged painfully high and exposing far too much while tears stream down my flushed face and my fishnet clad legs dangle uselessly, the crowd's mocking laughter and cheers burning in my ears as this merciless amazon proves her total superiority over yet another "pathetic little white girl." My choked whimpers grow weaker with every humiliating second stretched out high above the ring, until she finally carries me to the corner and holds me extended one last time, her cold voice cutting through my haze with that terrifying question, "You know what my favorite game is?", and before I can even gasp out a plea, she lowers me just enough for her sadistic words to sink in like knives. "It’s called ‘White Girl Toss’." Pure terror floods me as her smirk flashes wide, and then her arms explode forward in one brutal thrust, hurling my 92 lbs through the air like discarded trash, the world tumbling in a blur of lights and roaring fans while I flail and scream mid flight, knowing the crashing impact across the ring is going to shatter what's left of my battered little cowgirl pride when I slam into the canvas yet again. I bounce twice before coming to rest by the opposite corner...laying awkwardly as I just lay there twitching and drooling.

ShaniqueSupreme: My arms hurl forward and thrust you into the air. Launching you across the ring. Your little body goes sailing, much to my amusement, finally crashing down more than half way across the ring, bouncing and sliding to the opposite corner. Leaving you there in a twitching and drooling mess. Curled up like the heap of trash you are. I smirk, stalking forward. Closing the distance quickly as you lie there. My shadow casts down over you as I approach. I look down at you and press my foot against your head, rocking it a few times. Still conscious, good. I reach down, my hands sliding into your armpits and lifting, peeling you off the mat and picking you up like nothing, lifting you higher into the air and propping your scrawny white ass right down on the top turnbuckle, so you can look me in the eye. Balancing you there, my hand comes up and slaps your cheek, backhands you other cheek, and slaps your cheek again. Not hard, but firm, smacking you back and forth. “Stay with me, white girl. It’s not nap time yet.”

LaceyP: My vision blurs and spins from the brutal toss across the ring, every inch of my tiny body screaming in agony as I lay there in a twitching, drooling heap by the opposite corner, my white stockings torn in places and my daisy dukes wedged uncomfortably high, exposing my pale skin while my brown top clings sweat soaked to my heaving 32b chest, the red bandana long lost somewhere on the mat amid the crowd's cruel cheers that echo like distant thunder in my pounding head. I barely register Shanique's shadow engulfing me before her foot presses down on my skull, rocking it side to side with casual dominance that sends fresh waves of humiliation crashing through me, my whimpers weak and pathetic as she checks if I'm still conscious, then her powerful hands slide under my armpits, hoisting my limp 92 lbs frame off the canvas like I'm a discarded ragdoll, my boots dangling uselessly as she lifts me higher and props my scrawny ass onto the top turnbuckle, forcing me to sit there wobbling unsteadily while I stare into her cold, triumphant eyes through tear-streaked lashes, my hair matted and wild around my flushed face. Before I can even gasp for mercy or steady my trembling limbs, her hand cracks across my cheek in a firm slap that stings like fire, snapping my head to the side, then a backhand to the other cheek jolts me the opposite way, followed by another slap that leaves my skin burning and my ears ringing, her taunting words "Stay with me, white girl. It’s not nap time yet" cutting deeper than the impacts as I sob openly now, my hands clutching the ropes for balance while fear and defeat coil tight in my gut, knowing this amazon's game is far from over and I'm nothing but her plaything in this nightmare of pain and degradation.

LaceyP:

ShaniqueSupreme: My smirk widens as I look you square in the eyes, with full vitriol and disdain for this pathetic white girl that dared to step into my ring, into my domain, and now suffers the consequences. Your face rocks back and forth as I smack it, and your tears and sobs trickle. I can’t help but chuckle. “That’s it white girl, cry for me. It won’t help you.” Taking my hands to both sides of your face and brushing my thumbs along your cheeks wiping your flowing tears. I bring one thumb to my lips and give a swift little lick. “Nothing tastier than white girl tears, wouldn’t you say?” Taunting coldly at your helplessness as you sit atop the turnbuckle. “But all the way up there, white girl, I think might make you think you are my equal, and we can’t have that, can we?” I take a step back. “Let’s get you down from there.” And in one swift motion I suddenly bend forward, planting my hands onto the mat and lifting myself into a handstand displaying power, grace, and agility as my legs lean forward expertly, my thighs ensnaring your face with a tight vice grip. I steady myself on my hands as I grab your face with my legs. Then just as gracefully, and just as powerfully, I thrust my legs back, dragging your little frame with them as they twirl through the air back. My thighs release you halfway through the arc, hurling you back through the air from the top rope towards the center of the ring in a makeshift hurricanrana of sorts as my legs come back down, bringing me gracefully back to my feet as I turn around to look at the destruction with that same smirk

LaceyP: My world tilts violently as Shanique’s powerful thighs clamp around my head like a steel trap while she’s upside down in that impossible handstand, the thick, rippling muscles of her legs crushing my cheeks and squeezing the air from my lungs in a muffled scream, the scent of her sweat and skin overwhelming as my hands frantically claw at her unyielding quads, my fishnet clad legs kicking uselessly in the air while I’m perched helplessly on the top turnbuckle, my tiny body already trembling from the earlier slaps that still burn across my face and the endless parade of humiliation. In one terrifying instant she thrusts backward, ripping me off the turnbuckle and hurling me through the air in a dizzying arc, my shorts riding up painfully high and my sweat-soaked brown top twisting around my torso as the arena spins in a blur of lights and roaring faces. I fly head-over-heels toward the center of the ring, crashing down hard on my upper back and shoulders with a sickening thud that knocks every last bit of breath from my battered body, pain exploding through my spine and neck while I bounce once and roll limply onto my stomach, sprawled face-down in a twitching, drooling heap, my white boots scraping weakly against the canvas, torn stockings shredded further, hair plastered across my flushed and tear soaked face, my modest chest heaving desperately beneath me as broken sobs escape my lips, every ounce of fight drained from my 92 lbs frame while I lay there utterly destroyed at the feet of this merciless amazon, knowing I’m nothing more than a broken toy in her ring.

LaceyP:

ShaniqueSupreme: I land back on my feet, straightening myself up, brushing my hands through my hair as I turn around to see the chaos of your destruction. The echoing THUD and roar of the crowd enjoying this powerful display. You sob and twitch on the canvas, heaving, struggling. My favorite place to see a white girl, crying on the mat from the torment I’ve put them through. I take a few long strides towards you as you twitch on your stomach. I step over you, straddling over you back as I look down at your whimpering body. I smirk wide, sadistically. Bringing myself down onto my knees over your back. I reach my arms back and grab each of your ankles, pulling them towards me, stretching your legs and back as I secure your ankles in a vice between my biceps and my sides. Reaching down, I cup my massive hands under your tiny chin, pulling up, stretching your neck. “Time for you to scream for me, white girl” I say coldly as I begin to lift from my knees, bringing my feet back under me. Your legs hooked, my hands pulling at your chin, bending you in half between my legs as I stand up, lifting your little white frame from the mat, dangling above it now as I showcase pure power and domination locking in the hanging scorpion hold as if I were trying to break you in half

LaceyP: My body is a throbbing wreck of agony and humiliation as I lay facedown on the canvas, twitching and sobbing uncontrollably, drool pooling beneath my cheek while my torn fishnet stockings cling to my trembling legs and my shorts remain painfully wedged, exposing everything as my top twists around my heaving chest, every breath a ragged gasp after that devastating Hurricanrana hurled me like trash. The crowd’s roaring approval barely registers through the haze of pain until Shanique’s long strides echo closer, her shadow swallowing me whole before she straddles my back, her massive weight settling as she drops to her knees over me, making me whimper pathetically beneath her. Strong hands seize my ankles, yanking them backward and tucking them viciously into the crooks of her iron hard arms, the sudden stretch igniting fire along my thighs and lower back while I claw weakly at the mat, then her huge palms cup under my tiny chin and pull upward with merciless force, arching my neck until tears flood my eyes and a strangled cry escapes my lips. “Time for you to scream for me, white girl,” she hisses coldly, and as she rises to her full height, lifting my entire 92 lbs frame clear off the canvas, bending me backward in that brutal hanging scorpion hold, my spine screams in protest, feeling like it’s seconds from snapping while my body dangles helplessly between her legs, my arms flailing limply, my shorts riding even higher in this obscene position as raw, piercing screams finally rip from my throat, echoing through the arena while the amazon holds me aloft like a broken trophy, every muscle in my tiny frame stretched to its absolute limit in this excruciating display of her total, sadistic domination.

ShaniqueSupreme: I stand up, dangling you above the canvas, bending at stretching you to the brink. My smirk widens more and more with each passing moment. Your tears dripping onto the mat below you. You try to hold it in, but that doesn’t last long. After a few moments in this unforgiving hold, your agonizing scream begins echoing loudly through the venue. I can’t contain myself any longer as well, my sneering smirk erupting into a cackling, mocking laughter, as I hold you there, loving every single moment of your agonizing terror. “There you go, white girl!” I cheer you on. “Scream for me like the little white bitch you are.” My mocking laughter continues as I hold you there with ease. No escape for you. “Now now, white girl, just say the three magic words, and I’ll put you down.” My voice cold and stern again. As I tighten my grip just a bit more, stretching you even further in half, the soles of your feet pressing to the back of your head. “Black is better.”

LaceyP: My body feels like it's being torn apart in this merciless hanging scorpion hold, every vertebra in my spine screaming in agony as Shanique stands tall and unbending, hoisting my tiny frame high above the canvas like a ragdoll bent nearly in half, my legs hooked painfully in the crooks of her iron arms while her massive hands yank my chin upward, forcing my tear-streaked face toward the arena lights that blur through the flood of hot tears now dripping steadily onto the mat below. I fight desperately to hold back the screams, biting my trembling lip until I taste blood, but the excruciating stretch finally shatters my resolve and a raw, piercing wail rips from my throat, echoing through the entire venue as my battered little cowgirl body convulses in her unbreakable grip, my daisy dukes wedged humiliatingly high and my top clinging to my heaving chest while the crowd's cheers mix with Shanique's sudden eruption of cruel, mocking laughter that cuts deeper than the physical torment. "There you go, white girl!" she taunts triumphantly, "Scream for me like the little white bitch you are," and her cackling only intensifies my sobbing, my arms dangling limply as fresh waves of pain and degradation crash over me, until her voice turns ice-cold again, demanding those three devastating words "Black is better" while she tightens her hold even further, cruelly pressing the soles of my white boots against the back of my own head, forcing my spine to the absolute brink of breaking. The humiliation burns hotter than the agony, my pride crumbling as I realize there's no escape, no mercy, only this amazon's total domination, and in a broken, gasping whisper choked with tears and defeat, I finally sob out the words she wants to hear, "B-Black... is... better," praying she'll release me from this nightmare even as the admission seals my utter submission to her superiority.

ShaniqueSupreme: My grin turns back to that mocking laughter as you succumb. Through your pathetic little sobs, and through struggled gasps, finally manage to utter those beautiful words. “Black is better.” I laugh for a few moments, keeping you held above the canvas in my grasp. “Was that so hard to admit, white girl?” I taunt coldly. Unceremoniously, I suddenly release my hands from your chin and your legs from my arms, letting your frail broken little white body plop face first back down onto the mat. A broken pile of white trash at my feet, finally admitting my superiority. I muse as I stand over you. Stepping to your side, I place my boot to your ribs and nudge you onto your back. “For admitting your place, you’ve earned yourself a proper reward, white girl.” My grin widening again as I straddle over you, standing above your head, so you can look straight up at me, above you, you beneath me, where you belong. “For finally admitting that black is better…” My smirk turns to a snicker. “...Your Reward is the privilege of kissing my big superior black ass” My hands reach back, smacking each of my own cheeks twice before kicking my legs out from under me, falling into a controlled drop, crashing my ass straight down onto your face, smothering you beneath it. Shifting and wiggling slightly as I make myself comfortable on your face, leaving you with nothing to breathe but me. “Give in, white girl” I taunt again. “Dreams come true when you fall asleep under me”

LaceyP: My world is a suffocating, humiliating darkness as Shanique's massive, powerful ass crashes down onto my tear soaked face with devastating weight, her thick cheeks engulfing my entire head and pinning me flat on my back against the canvas, the heat and scent of her superior black skin overwhelming every desperate gasp I try to take while my tiny body twitches weakly beneath her, my torn stockings scraping uselessly against the mat and my shorts wedged painfully high from all the earlier torment, exposing my pale thighs as my modest chest heaves in futile panic, lungs burning for air that's now completely denied by her merciless facesit. The crowd's thunderous cheers and laughter ring in my muffled ears like a distant storm, celebrating this ultimate degradation of the broken little white cowgirl who just sobbed out "Black is better" in total submission, my arms flopping limply at my sides at first before instinct kicks in and my trembling hands weakly push against her unbreakable thighs, clawing feebly at the rippling muscle as stars burst behind my closed eyelids, my legs kicking sporadically in their shredded stockings while hot tears continue streaming down my flushed cheeks into her skin, my pride shattered beyond repair as her taunting words "Give in, white girl" and "Dreams come true when you fall asleep under me" vibrate through her body into mine, forcing me to realize there's no escape from this amazon's dominance, my struggles growing weaker and weaker with every denied breath until my vision fades to black, my battered 92lbs frame going limp beneath her in utter, defeated surrender, dreaming only of the superior black goddess who has completely owned and destroyed me tonight.

LaceyP:

ShaniqueSupreme: When it gets to this point, it never takes long. The bitch is broken, and I’m sitting atop her letting her knew exactly where she belongs, and what I think of her. Your squirms and struggles as you breathe me in, unable to find any semblance of air only add to amusement as I casually sit over you, pressing my weight down, smirking with your final struggles. Just biding my time until you give way, fall away into your dreams, or possibly nightmares. Of this Black Beauty who showed you what you truly were. A weak and worthless white bitch. You squirms and struggles ultimately come to a halt, as you pass out, going to dreamland beneath me. I stay there a few moments more. Enjoying the moment as the crowd erupts. Finally standing up. I look down at you, unconscious, and pathetic on the canvas. “Poor white girl” I muse with that sickening smirk as I simply plant my boot lightly on your forehead, almost uncaring, as I signal for the ref to provide an all but ceremonial “count” for your destruction and defeat. He obliges, sliding down as I “pin” you and slapping his hand down quickly for a one, two, three. I brush my hair back, and leave the ring, no fanfare or adulation. Exiting as calmly and confidently as I had entered, paying no mind to any of the cheering fans. Walking off, and leaving you there in the middle of the ring, unconscious for someone who cared to tend to you. Because that someone certainly wasn’t me.