The Best Day Ever

As Bubbles and Faheema had their fun, Mariah went about the somewhat serious task of selecting their toys for the evening. She was iffy about getting too wild - Faheema was clearly able to take a good deal of abuse, but the tricky thing would be knowing when too much was just too much. She favored a good whip, but would the Nubian get over her hangup for them? What about the shock play? Questions, questions, questions…

Bubbles was thinking much of the same thing, though she was having a bit of a harder time keeping her focus thanks to the heavenly worship that Faheema was bestowing upon. For someone who was so rough, so fierce, so feral in combat, Bubbles would’ve thought she’d be sloppier and more brazen about her task, but her dark-skinned worshiper was surprisingly thorough.

And playful. ”Be careful what you wish for.” Bubbles gave Faheema a quick, hard tug of the hair - not enough to rip anything out, but enough to make her nerves scream for a hot second. It was brief, but that was the point. Just a taste of what she would almost certainly be enduring later.

The naughty Nubian dared to slide her head in between Bubbles’ legs, clearly tempting the goddess’ wrath, and she decided to give her another taste to satisfy those budding masochistic tendencies. After Faheema asked her question, Bubbles crossed her ankles and clamped down on Faheema’s skull, hitting her with a brief burst of paralyzing pressure, before she eased up, giving her just enough force to keep her in place.

The question brought a soft smile to Bubbles’ face, and she looked over her shoulder to see the same on Mariah, as she peeked out from behind the luggage. ”That’s...that is a bit of story.” She sighed and took a break from her rummaging to sit back and wistfully look to the ceiling. ”When I first met Bubbles, she was kind of rough around the edges. Just getting into wrestling, stumbling through.”

”I sucked, is what she means to say. I had the body, but not the brains to use it.” As if the former point needed any emphasis, she gave Faheema’s head a quick flex, before returning back to her capturing level of pressure.

”You were passable.” Mariah waved it off. ”But I knew you could be great, not just good. I had the brains, but my body was out of whack, so we fit well. I wish I could say there was some moment where I just knew she was the one, but it wasn’t like that.” She folded her arms, pressing against her tight breasts. ”We worked well together, so we started hanging out with each other. Tried to keep it business at first, but we got a little physical. Hugs, the occasional playful kiss, then not-so playful kisses. Went for the friends-with-benefits thing. Then came dates, real dates. The more we were with each other, the more we wanted to be with each other. It was liek we were, you know…”

”Addicted.”

”Addicted.” She snapped her fingers after Bubbles filled in the blank. ”Sorry if that’s a little mundane, but that’s the way it is. No love at first sight, just a series of fortunate events that lead to, well…” She held up her hand and let her wedding ring glisten under the pale lights. ”...this.”

Now these were the sensations that lit a fire in Faheema's belly. Or in her scalp, for that matter. A loud cry left her lips when Bubbles grabbed those bushy tufts and really pulled them. Coming from most people, it would've been a cry of anguish, and nothing more, but the Nubian's vocals were passionate and drawn out, followed by a contented sigh. A lustful moan that left no doubt over the Virgin Killer's ability to pull her strings.

She didn't pass up the chance to woo Faheema yet again with her strength, either. When the question left the Nubian's lips, Bubbles strapped her in tight for the story to follow by closing her bulky thighs around her neck. The opening squeeze brought Faheema to attention, making her whimper as firm muscles coiled around her.

Soon, however, a tranquility came to Faheema as her Goddess found the right amount of pressure to hold her firmly but comfortably. Paradoxically for a woman of such passion, the simple act of being trapped in a firm embrace delighted her to the core. Her body couldn't hide it, even if her pride kept her from confessing directly.

“Oh, B-Bubbles, hnn...d-don't let me go,” she mewled, although she knew she would have to go free at some point, to finish tending to the rest of her captor's bronzed flesh. For now, she was happy to just close her eyes, kneel in submission, and listen to Mariah talk while her wife's legs dominated Faheema's head. The story was just as subduing to the Nubian as the muscles constricting her neck, and a deep sigh was the only noise she made when Bubbles tensed up her hold for a second time.

“Mmm, I can just imagine,” Faheema moaned, thinking about what their early days must have been like. Granted, it was easier to imagine while Bubbles was wrapped around her like a tight, warm scarf. “Did her sheer strength add to your intoxication, the way it has added to mine? Being trapped in another's grasp has never been this enchanting,” she sighed, as she stroked the woman's hips, caressing each curve, appreciating the time and effort that must have gone into sculpting them.

Her imagination stopped wandering when Mariah drew her attention to the ring on her finger. Eyes drifting open, she squinted to examine the shiny stone that signified their marriage. As beautiful as it was, it seemed like a waste to Faheema. Too expensive for too little decoration. Besides, diamond rings weren't common in Sudan. The culture where she had once lived was different than anything Bubbles and Mariah had experienced, and its weddings were as strange as anything else.

“I would tell you all about the roads I've walked looking for love, but I fear that my mouth will be too busy...right, Bubbles?” Faheema remarked in a playful tone, tilting her head up and down to tickle the giant's stomach with curls of her hair as it swung back and forth. At this point, she was just teasing while she waited for Bubbles to release her head so her worship could continue. The African woman was determined to learn more about her hosts while she played, however, so with an inquisitive frown, she asked another question...or three. “Wait, what happened to your body? Was it serious? Is that why Bubbles is so protective of you?”

A chill ran up Bubbles’ body as Faheema squealed, one her spicy little captive could no doubt feel through the legs around her head.  She couldn’t help herself - those noises she made were just too cute to resist, too sweet to ignore. Faheema’s accent gave them this rich, unique flavor that she’d never heard before. Like discovering a fine dish from a culture you’d never experienced before, this woman was sexy in way that were even new to the Virgin Killer.

Bubbles’ could’ve melted, couldn’t given into her lust, could’ve just tossed Faheema on the bed and fucked her wild and raw. She’d be lying if she said the thought didn’t cross her mind, but a quick glance towards Mariah reminded her of the plan. This wasn’t just for her to enjoy, but for all of them to take part. Patience was required. So she reigned it in, for now, and just sated herself with the feeling of a skull between her legs, pressing against it with her muscular thighs as if it were a giant stress ball.

Mariah had started to test out the electro gloves, fitting them with a battery, when Faheema threw that intriguing question her way. She opened her mouth, then yelped when she accidentally activated the charge, giving a sharp shock on the fingers. Nothing too painful, but an unwelcome surprise.

”Geez…” She sucked on her index finger a moment before turning her focus back to Faheema. ”Well, all those muscles certainly didn’t hurt, no.” She sighed and turned her head to the side, admiring the way Bubbles flexed, her muscles swelling against the Nubian’s neck. ”You could probably guess, but Bubbles’ has a fairly unique physique among wrestling women.”

”And men.” She brought up her arms and did a flex, pumping iron through her arms and making Mariah swoon.

”Too true.” She went back to ruffling through the luggage, getting the last of the toys out and setting them to the side. ”As for my injury, it was a stupid thing. Screwed up a baseball slide to the outside of the ring, hit the floor hard, got some fractures in my neck.” She rubbed it, the mere mention of the incident bringing up pain she’d love to forget. ”It’s the dumb things that take you out, nine times out of ten.”

Bubbles took it upon herself to answer the second question and test out how much Faheema liked the hairpulling at the same time. She opened her legs and freed her skull, only to reach around a grab a handful of those unruly curls. With rough, solid tugs, she yanked Faheema around to her front and pressed her face to her expansive chest, forcing the Nubian to look up at her from inside the cleft of her breasts. She was smiling, like usual, but her brow was furrowed in a serious glare. Playful, but with more than a little danger mixed in.

”I’m protective of Mariah because she’s my wife.” One hand gently ran through Faheema’s curls, while they other held her in an implacable grip. ”And I needed to make a point: my wife is off limits in matches. Things got a little hot in there, so I don’t blame you too much for trying...but, well, the next person who tries something like that? I won’t be so nice.”

Trapped in a submissive repose between Bubbles' bulging legs, Faheema felt the same rising tide of desire that she did. In an almost literal sense, her body was burning with anticipation, her mind filled with the same fantasies as her counterpart. She wanted Bubbles to drag her toward the bed, for Mariah and her to fuck Faheema as hard as they could. They were stuck waiting, however, for Mariah to finish setting up her tools. Tools that, judging from the zap and the cry across the room, involved an electric current.

“Did you just shock yourself?!” the Nubian called in exasperation, taking in the view of a glove that required batteries...for some reason. “What exotic torture implements do you have over there?!” Her excited curiosity was quite justified, for a woman who had never seen sex toys before, let alone owned any. Her past pleasure had come from strange places, including her street fights, the thrills of which had taken on a life of their own.

Hair pulling had been a common refrain in those fights, used against her with such predictability that it had stopped angering her and started amusing her. That didn't mean she ever let attackers off the hook for doing it, sending many home with broken fingers, but Bubbles and Mariah had long since won her blessing. Both of them were free and welcomed to explore her masochism without consequence. Trust, although hard-earned, went a long way with the young exile.

Hearing what had happened in Mariah's past, Faheema settled down for a moment. Even her ravenous lust retreated in favor of a moment of somber respect for the veteran, knowing that her career had almost certainly been ended by such an injury. Not a word left her lips in response, but her furrowed brow and glum expression offered condolences of their own. The moment came to an abrupt end, however, when Bubbles caught Faheema by the hair once more, using it like a leash to make her move where Bubbles wished her to be.

“Hyaah!” Faheema yelped, more from surprise than pain. Rearing back for a moment, the shocks rippling across her scalp ensured her compliance as she crawled on all fours toward the front of her towering Goddess. Moaning and groaning, Faheema slowly rose as the iron grip on her hair forced her to stand. Her face made contact with the moist skin of Bubbles' stomach, and along that surface, Faheema's face slid further up until it became lodged between her imposing mammaries. As Bubbles forced her to look up into her glimmering eyes, the face she was greeted with wore a giddy smile that only got wider as the stern woman gave her warning.

“Ooh, Bubbles, I do love it when you threaten to get rough with me,” Faheema said, wrapping her arms around Bubbles' midsection and clutching her close. “I was raised in a world where no one was off-limits in a fight, and Mariah entered the arena as your ally. Then again, the men who imparted that idea to me in my youth are wanted for war crimes. Not the best people to take pointers from.” Continuing the important task of pleasing her Goddess, Faheema buried her face in the giant's chest to start licking and kissing the sensitive flesh in between her breasts.

”No.” Mariah replied with faked irritation, right after she stuck her tongue out at Faheema - far more playful than the gesture she’d done during the match. Sharing orgasms had a way of diffusing tension, she was starting to learn. ”Just testing it out a little, was all. Making sure the settings are right. And not telling you anything, no.” She shook her head, then blew a few stray strands of hair out of her face. ”That would ruin the surprise.”

Speaking of surprises, Bubbles thought she was giving one to Faheema when she yanked the Nubian about and forced her to stand - and maybe she was. But it wasn’t an unpleasant surprise, really. When she looked down into Faheema’s sparkling eyes, she saw a woman enraptured with the thrill of it all, who wanted to be nowhere else than where she was currently standing. It wasn’t a look she had never seen before, but rarely mixed with such a ferocious, feral energy.

Faheema knew exactly what to say and do, as she went to work on Bubbles’ blossoming breasts. While it might not have been great for the perception of dominance, the Virgin Killer couldn’t keep herself from sigh and cooing along as she went about her task, always loving when her tits got the royal treatment. But there was one thing she loved even more than that.

Faheema wanted rough treatment, she’d get rough treatment, as Bubbles wrapped her arm around the Nubian’s skull without a single warning and forced her face in between the breasts, capturing her in a tight smother. It was sweaty, wet prison, but one with no air and no light, as her mammaries swallowed the head whole, trapping her in the relentless grip.

”Gotcha.” Bubbles chuckled, her rumbling laugh vibrating Faheema’s face. With half-lidded eyes, she looked over to Mariah. ”Almost finished?”

”Just about.” Mariah rose and ran a hand through her hair, before looking at the two’s embrace. The licking of lips said everything that needed to be said on her feelings about it. ”Are you?”

Bubbles bounced her eyebrows and yanked Faheema from side to side, continuing to wear down her prey. ”Almost. Just want to get her nice and dreamy, so we can have a fun time waking her back up…”

“Gnh,” Faheema growled at Mariah's refusal to give up her plans. “I don't much like surprises, you know,” she grumbled before turning her head back to continue smooching Bubbles' tits. Oh, she still trusted both women not to hurt her, and wouldn't have any hard feelings, but it went against her nature to cooperate with others that she knew were plotting against her. Plus, there was a whip lying on the bed, and if it wasn't already clear how she felt about the lash, the hastening, intense thunder of her heart against Bubbles' chest would make it clear. With God as her witness, the leather would not touch her skin.

Well...except for leather restraints. Bindings of any kind created a thrilling challenge for her, to try to escape the predicament, testing the abilities of whoever had tied her up. She would struggle and resist, but she would do so with joyful passion.

Speaking of restraint, Faheema squealed with horror as a hefty arm squeezed her head, pressing her so tightly into her captor's bosom that she was unable to move her face at all. Nor was she able to breathe, with her nose and lips drowning in the sticky moisture of her breast flesh. At first, she expected to be released for air like she had been before, but then she heard the dark chuckle that made Bubbles' entire body vibrate against her. Heard the two women discussing their intent to knock her out, presumably to have her wake up in a much more dire predicament. Felt her entire body being torqued from side to side as Bubbles shook the Nubian in her grip.

She wouldn't be released from the breast smother. Not while she was conscious, anyway.

“Hnn...hnn!” Faheema's muffled protests reverberated against the woman's cleavage, as Faheema braced herself against the titan's body and started pulling away. Simple struggling proved to be fruitless, as the Virgin Killer's powerful arms kept her firmly in place. Tension was beginning to build in her lungs, and if Faheema was going to escape, she didn't have long. Good thing she was resourceful in a fight. Maybe Bubbles needed to be reminded of that.

Without warning, Faheema hopped into the air and sunk both of her knees deep into the Virgin Killer's gut. Growling furiously into Bubbles' chest, the Nubian threw her weight backwards, trying to flip the larger woman up and over her. It bore resemblance to a wrestling move known as the monkey flip, but Faheema didn't know it as such, and didn't put too much force into it. She wanted to free herself from the smother, not hurt Bubbles or break hotel furniture.

Was it a bit much outside of the ring? Yes. Did Faheema regret trying it? Not at the moment, no. She was disobedient, now and always, and her instinct as a fighter wouldn't allow her to be knocked out without resistance. Certainly not with her apprehension fanning the flames. Still, she was hopeful that Bubbles and Mariah would see her defiance as part of the fun, not as a violation of their trust. An opportunity for Bubbles to wrestle her down and subdue her once more, to win her wife the chance to apply whatever erotic tortures she had planned.

Even beyond the all-too palpable sense of domination, Bubbles just loved the feel of Faheema’s body against her own. No doubt, it was her muscles that really enhanced the experience - Bubbles was equal opportunity, accepting any and all women from a variety of sizes and styles, but she didn’t get to play muscular bodies nearly enough for her tastes. Too often, her lovers were smaller women, weaker women, ones with shadows that rarely darkened the inside of a gym.

Not this one. Not Faheema. As their bodies slid against each other, Bubbles could feel curves that fit well with her own, supple yet strong and so enticing. The idea of having this body squirming in her grasp, of having to restrain that raw, sinewy power was just too much to bare. How was she supposed to not breast smother Faheema?

So she gave in and trapped the Nubian in between her bouncing globes, dominating her lungs. For a few moments, it was sheer bliss. Bubbles purred as she felt Faheema’s face working against her chest, with her skin molding about those rough features. There was a struggle, just as she expected, but she didn’t see it as a problem. Faheema was no weakling, but up close, in an already secured hold? The advantage was hers. Bubbles didn’t see anyway she could get loose.

That was a lack of imagination on her part, really, because Faheema could do that, and did, when she fell back and sent Bubbles’ larger frame flipping overhead - a move that took her by surprise and very much took Mariah by surprise, since she came flying towards her.

”Christ!” Mariah leaped out of the way just in time to avoid getting  rolled on - while she had no problems being under Bubbles and Faheema at the same time, she didn’t want it to be like that.

Bubbles, for her part, only had a moment to notice Mariah before she was flung off thanks to Faheema’s little trick. She rolled off her former foe and popped up to a single knee, looking over the Nubian with a mix of surprise and gritty determination, her lips curled into a taunting grin. So, it seemed like she hadn’t completely extinguished Faheema’s fire in the ring, that there’d need to be a little more smothering before she could full snuff out the flame.

Not a problem. ”Another lesson, then.” Bubbles crawled across the floor, bounding on all fours towards Faheema, attempting to bowl her over before she could get all the way up and pin her to the floor.

When Faheema successfully flipped Bubbles overhead to dislodge the smother, her heart soared, and a cheerful smile spread across her face. After the thorough beatdown she had received in their match, it did her good to remember that she could stand against the mighty woman, if she put her mind to it. Naturally, Bubbles took the unexpected counter as a challenge, mirroring the gleeful smile Faheema was wearing. Maybe now she would understand that no one attacked the Nubian Exile without consequence.

Speaking of consequences, however, Mariah's scream as Bubbles landed made Faheema apprehensive. Trying to hurt Mariah had resulted in some of the harsher punishments Bubbles had dealt during their match, and Faheema hadn't meant to endanger her wife a second time. Taking her eyes off of Bubbles, who was still getting up, the Nubian turned toward the pale-faced woman standing nearby.

“Are you okay?” she said, her voice just a little shaken, betraying real concern. She buried it quickly, however, furrowing her brow and flipping her smile to take on a tougher look. “Don't whip me,” the sternness in Faheema's voice made it clear that she wasn't joking. To surprise Mariah more pleasantly, however, Faheema examined the nearby surroundings, spotting the riding crop resting on the carpet where it had been thrown earlier. She picked it up and extended her arm, beckoning Mariah to take it.

“I think I can handle this one if you wish, but I do greatly prefer the deadly lash of your wife's own hand,” she remarked with a grin, pointing down to the red hand print still visible on her chest. Beside her, however, the shuffling of giant paws against the hotel carpet warned Faheema too late of the Virgin Killer's four-legged charge. Turning toward her, she tried to raise her arms in defense, only to be enveloped and pushed down by the much larger woman until her victim's back was digging into the carpet.

“Get off me, you camel!” Faheema spat, bringing her muscular legs up and wrapping them around her opponent's midsection. She squeezed hard enough to cause some real discomfort for the woman's diaphragm, but the true purpose was to stop her from maneuvering too easily while Faheema tried to keep Bubbles from capturing her wrists. Unlike their previous position, she didn't have any bright ideas to escape this one, especially if Mariah decided to join the fun on her wife's side.

Not that Bubbles needed the help. She was doing a great job of imposing her will on Faheema by herself.

While Mariah had been panicked for a moment - as any sane woman would be at the risk of being steamrolled by Bubbles - she didn’t hold any ill will to Faheema over the little incident. Though she’d only known the nubile Nubian for a short time, she could see how she rolled and why she fit so well with Bubbles. Both strong, both fierce, both competitive.

All the same, she appreciated the fig leaf Faheema was handing her in the form of the whip, and she graciously took it in as Bubbles reeled from their tussle. Her wife was many things, but rarely all that graceful. They had a moment.

Mariah used it to examine the whip, looking between it and Faheema, taking in her words and the way they were spoken. If the leather was that much of a thing for her, she’d gladly keep it away, not wanting to push Faheema’s limits too much too soon. They had other options…

Before she could bring any of those up, however, Bubbles went back on the attack, charging in with all the subtlety of a raging bull. The two bodies collided and momentum allowed the Virgin Killer to succeed in coming out on top - for what that was worth. She’d barely had a second to enjoy the position before two serpents slithered around her waist and clamped down, constricting her in a tight vise. Bubbles squawked at the sharp, cutting pressure - Faheema might have lacked the sheer size of her own legs, but that almost made her bodyscissor worse, gave it a more compact, tighter power that cut deeper.

The pain took Mariah by surprise, and she started to take her gloves and move in, ready to aid. She stopped short, though, when she saw the look in Bubbles eyes: hurting, of course, but ready to hurt back, with a manic glimmer and fierce grin. Faheema wanted it rough, clearly, and she was about to get it.

Instead of going for Faheema’s wrists, Bubbles simply reached under her body and pressed them together, hugging her ‘opponent’ close, chest to chest and face to face. From there, she brought her knees under her and started to stand up, lifting Faheema’s added weight along with her as she rose. Up, up, up she went, until she was standing tall and straight.

And then she fell forward, crashing into the floor, slamming Faheema into it with her substantial weight. A brutal, powerful move designed to knock the wind clean out of the Nubian all at once.

Disciplinary striking implements, like whips, had been a sore sight for Faheema since her teenage years, a hangup that hadn't faded with time. No doubt Mariah had already guessed that Faheema had some personal trauma relating to them, but their historical significance made her apprehensive as well. Whips had long represented cruelty and suffering that her people had been subject to, and her pride wouldn't allow one to be used against her without severe retaliation.

Anything else Mariah had up her sleeve, she was free to use. Tonight was all about new experiences, and even if there was pain in store, both Burste women knew by now that Faheema could handle it. Enjoy it, even.

What Bubbles was about to do, however, wouldn't be enjoyable in the slightest. Not for Faheema, anyway. Instead of fighting for control on the ground, Bubbles wrapped Faheema up in a tight embrace and then started getting back on her feet! It wasn't even the first time she had done something like this, but it always surprised Faheema when she managed to get up despite the weight of her opponent and the force of the legs wrapped around her. Last time, the impressive display had ended with Bubbles driving Faheema back-first into a turnbuckle, a memory that still inspired dread. To prevent this encounter from ending in a similar manner, the Nubian uncoiled her legs and tried to pull herself away.

To Faheema's horror, she couldn't. She kicked and writhed, but the arms coiled around her chest were as solid as steel. With their faces almost pressed together, Faheema stared into Bubbles' eyes, quivering in her grasp as she spoke in a hushed tone.

“Don't you dare...”

Then, her heart leapt into her throat as Bubbles fell, taking her unwilling passenger with her. Eyes wide with panic, Faheema barely had the time to straighten her back and brace before the entire weight of Bubbles crushed her against the floor. Hitting with a solid thunk, Faheema whimpered but didn't scream, as the painful impact paralyzed her body. Against a floor that wasn't designed to handle the impact of a pro wrestling slam, the resulting agony left Faheema helpless, lying limp beneath her tormentor.

She would be fine, of course. She always was. But for now, Bubbles had robbed Faheema of the strength, and even the will, to fight. The heavy-handed reminder of just how rough she could be had devastated her mind as much as her body, and it was all the exhausted woman could manage to stare up into the glowing pupils of her captor as her body ached and throbbed.