James Wright vs. Madonna

James was out of it. His head was spinning with pain and her whole body demanded rest. The ace was expecting Madonna to hit him again and again until he could bear no more, but something far worse, in his estimation, happened. Two strong hands grabbed the elastic of his shorts, and his only clothing was pulled from him.

The purple haired boy groaned. He wasn't all the way erect, but he was somewhat turgid. His manhood was fully on display now and waves of humiliation came over him. This was only his debut and he was beginning to learn exactly what sort of league this was. His knees knocked together as he stayed on the ground.

Madonna laugh loud when she holds his short in her hands. “no big words left?”, she asked him before she walked over to the ringside and throw his shorts into the crowed. A now very happy female fan was able to get the shorts. Madonna turned back around to her opponent and took a closely look. “Not that bad I must say but I saw much better than this!”, she said while walking back to him.

When she was close enough, she tried to get a grab on his legs. She tried to turn her opponent on his stomach before sitting down on his back. Then Madonna tried to pull James leg´s up as far as possible. She wanted to catch him into a Boston crap, while holding both of her feed. She tried to pull his legs up so that his sex was up in the air and viewable for all of the fans.

Madonna's harsh laugh and derisive words rang hollow in his words. No insult could match her action. James' masculinity was long and thick, and hardening with every passing second. He couldn't honestly explain why in any appreciable sense, but it was just a fact of life. Just like the fact that Madonna grabbed his legs- there was nothing he could really do about it so he just had to accept it.

Soon, the ace was flipped over and pulled into a torturous Boston Crab. His engorged manhood dangled and a thousand people saw it. There was precious little he could do about it. His fists clenched as he tried to ride out the pain and humiliation.

Madonna pulled the legs a bit closer. “No words… no screaming oh man I am disappointed!”, she said quietly. She really wanted to leave some scars on the mind of the boy. She looked around in the arena. Some of the people where still booing her for her dirty playing tricks.
But some of the people started to laugh about the young ace and his nudity. That was what Madonna wanted to hear right now. She then let go of James and stood up. “Come on boy I am not finished yet!”

If Madonna wanted to imprint some mental scarring on him, she succeeded. The ace had never been assaulted like this, had never been humiliated like this, had never been beaten like this. The boy was too broken to scream or protest, and was glad to feel that his legs were finally let down. If he were honest with himself he just wanted the evening to end, and things looked like they were coming to a head.

Madonna backed off of him and James pulled himself together. Slowly, he pulled himself up. His body was slumping even as his priapism was standing erect. He wavered a bit to the right before balancing himself. He made no attempt to cover his manhood as he knew it would be pointless. He sloppily tried to make himself ready by raising his hands.

Madonna waited till her opponent was back on her feed. “What silly idea for you to come here… you should stay at the child league were you had come from!”, she screamed at him. She hoped she would meet some strong fighters in the AFW, but she come tougher with this little boy.

She tried to jump towards him putting one arm around him. She tried to press her body against his, then she would start to hit him reputedly into his side with her bar fist. With the arm around him she tried to keep him up she he would not fall to the ground.

James granted that maybe Madonna had a point. It felt like he had done nothing for the entirety of the match and was fighting off the back heel. His wits had been dulled by the unceasing pain and he could hardly react the first time. The second and third he couldn't react at all and grunted and winced as his ribcage lit up with pain. Madonna would not even give him the solace of collapsing backwards onto the mat and his useless body was beyond reacting.

"Christ!" He let out. Her could not forget that he had been stripped and embarrassed and his manhood wiggled with his whole body. Bruises had already begun to set in, and James dimly wondered if any of the punches would break a rib.

Suddenly Madonna stoops her attack on the boys rips. But she still holds his body thigh to her own. With her free hand she grabs his hair and pulled back his had. “Take a good look at me… the women you teach you!” With this words she took his head and pressed her lips against hers for a few moments.

Then Madonna tried to turn around James. She tried to put her hands around his neck and cut of his air. She got him in a sleeper hold. Then Madonna jumped up slinging her legs around his waist. Now she got her finisher the last sleep locked in. “let´s see how long you can stand this little man!”, she whispers in his ear. The crowed started to call out James name to cheer him up, so he would maybe fight back.

James was ready for the end, and as much as he would never admit it welcomed it. The ravages of the match played hell on his body and once again he was forced to stand up. His purple hair meant that his head was under Madonna's direct control. He expected to be torn down to the mat with some hellish slam. But instead the match took a turn for the sexy side as they locked lips. Madonna really wasn't James type and as he was stark naked the intent was clear: to humiliate the already degraded James.

He was too shocked to form a coherent response. The woman sidled in behind him and was met with no resistance. A harsh choke was applied and James saw the inky blackness coming in. His body was completely exposed to the audience and he hated it. He struggled against the woman to try and break out.

Madonna noticed that James was about to fight back but she only smiled about that. “No one ever break out of my last sleep little boy. No lay down and sleep well!”, she whispers in his ear, while putting her arm even tighter around his neck.

She did not lie to him. In all this years she was fighting, no one was able to break out of her last sleep. No Women no man. The last sleep always was the end of a matchup. She was luckily never caught in one herself.