Queen’s Throne!

“Now that you’ve been softened up, I think now’s a good time to have myself a seat.” You can just barely hear Velveteen Queen’s words through the thick fat of her ass cheeks. Velveteen releases you from the deep chasm of an odorous stink, leaving you wheezing for air in the corner. She appeals to the crowd before returning her attention to you. Your arms dangles on the bottom rope and your feet twitch ever so slightly, as your body recovers from the brutal **** on your senses.

Velveteen grabs your feet and drags you off of the turnbuckle, your head smashing onto the ring mat. You can barely even move your fingers as you watch Velveteen climb up the corner. She makes it to the top turnbuckle and poses for the fans. The fans begin chanting, “Queen’s Throne! Queen’s Throne! Queen’s Throne!” Velveteen Queen drops off of the top turnbuckle, her ass pointed towards your stomach, as your heartbeat briefly halts.

BOOM!

The Queen’s booty plunges into your torso, concaving your stomach and squashing your insides. You feel the life squeeze out of you as Velveteen drops her entire body weight onto you. The pain sends shockwaves from your body through the rest of you. Your penis alights with mixed feelings of love and hurt, as you erupt in your speedo, coating the insides of your gear with your cum. The crowd hoot and holler upon the sight of your stained trunks, whistling and catcalling to your embarrassment.

You wheeze and whimper as your stamina is drained. Velveteen Queen looks down at you with contempt, “What a pathetic whelp you are. Getting aroused from a thing like this? I don’t get you perverts.” She brings her face close to yours as she remains seated atop your stomach. “All you’re good for is to be a seat beneath my ass.”

Velveteen's insults excite you further, reigniting your erection much to your chagrin. The crowd’s cheers cause Velveteen to become curious as she looks back. She sees your boner and audibly gasps. “You dirty little whore.” Velveteen looks back at you with disgust and spits in your face. “You need to be cleaned up!” She takes her thumbs and rubs the spit deep into your pores. You wince and wriggle underneath the beautiful woman’s buttocks.

The referee was caught up in all of the excitement and was reminded by the timekeeper to count the pin. One! Two! Three! Velveteen Queen is declared the winner, however she remains atop your body, rubbing her ass deeper into your tummy. You let out a long groan of discomfort, your body now in shambles, after this demoralizing squash match.