Surra De Bunda

Texas whimpered at the prospect of this being only the beginning.

"I already know what I want to do next. This is a fan favorite," Zafta said.

The former sheriff was no coward, but even she knew there was a time for fight and a time for flight. This was the time for the latter. She turned and made a run for the ropes, but like with every other escape attempt, she was met with total failure. Zafta swung one of her tree trunks she called legs. She was so tall, all it took was one kick to cover most of the ring. She caught Texas across her side. Texas was launched into one of the turnbuckles back first. She slumped down, stunned. Her arms slipped between the ropes, managing to keep her on her feet. She was already on her last legs, and that kick was more than enough to stun her.

"Bullseye!"

Zafta smiled, setting up Texas for the next move. In her dazed star, the former sheriff looked up to see her doom, but she was helpless to do anything about it. The giraffe squatted, her glutes threatening to rip apart her shorts.

"Get ready!"

Texas didn't even have the energy to muster a scream. Zafta lunged forward, twisting around so her rear was aimed right at her face. The giant blue shorts covered butt slammed into Texas, but her feet also caught onto the ropes coming from the turnbuckle, so the full **** of the over one-ton giantess didn't reduce her to paste immediately. The entire ring shook from the **** of the blow, but it didn't collapse yet. Her muscular arms held her up. She looked around her body, but couldn't catch sight of Texas around her butt.

"It's not over yet!"

Zafta lurched forward, briefly giving Texas a breather. She was terrified, but with a muscular leg on each side of her and one of the biggest butts she'd ever seen in front of her, she had nowhere to run. Zafta squatted and leaned back, slamming Texas again. And again. And again. Texas lost count of how many times that big blue butt slammed into her, but she managed to stay in a somewhat 3d shape. Zafta actually showed some restraint as she didn't use her full weight. Each time she was slammed, she was plunged into a rank, stuffy, sweaty crack. If she was coated with sweat before, she was drenched now. Every slam knocked any breath she had out of her lungs. As her ass got sweater and sweater with each slam, the sounds got squisher and squisher. Thankfully, those blue shorts provided a barrier between her and a bare ass, but it didn't look like that was going to last. Texas noticed that with every slam, more and more tears were beginning to show. They started as small tears, but they grew and grew, showing off more of her ass. The constant flexing of her muscles was quickly wearing them out. If Zafta noticed, she didn't give any indication. She smiled and enjoyed the sensation of squashing the weasel.

"You still with me, cowgirl? We're almost done! Time for my signature move, Surra De Bunda"

Zafta leaned further forward than before. Texas desperately tried to move, to put her hands in front of her, to do anything to get away, but her body refused to obey her. Instead, all she could muster was a whimper.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes!"

With one last might flex, her ass exploded the shorts she was wearing. Scraps of blue cloth rained around the now bare ass. It was like she was starring at a pair of furry wrecking balls. Wrecking balls that were a perfect blend of fat and muscle, and ready to wreck her. Again, Zafta didn't seem to notice. Those wrecking balls rocketed towards her, slamming into her, but again, just shy of turning her into a sticker, but Texas was too out of it to appreciate it. Zafta finally stepped away from the turnbuckle, letting Texas flop onto the ground. Texas managed to find the strength to flip herself onto her back, breathing heavily. She looked up to see Zafta's bare ass over her, hanging over her like an over one-ton squishy, squeezable anvil. It was so close, she could probably lick it. Her tail brushed the top of her head. it didn't stay that close for long. Zafta's legs launched her ups with more **** than a stick of dynamite. She sailed so high in the air, Texas lost track of her, her massive form blotted out by the ceiling lights. Seconds ticked by, but nothing happened. For a moment, Texas thought she might have imagined Zafta jumping up that high in her stupor. After all, it was impossible for something to jump that high. Then she heard a distant whistling sound. It got louder and louder. Texas realized all too late what that sound was. She opened her mouth to scream, but not a single sound managed to escape her lips.

Zafta landed squarely on the former sheriff, bare ass first. A deafening boom blasted from the ring. The crowd leaned back as the shockwave nearly blew them away. For a second, they were stunned into silence, but they quickly roared their approval. The ring collapsed the second those two wrecking balls impacted it. The wrestling mat covered a pile of flattened metal and pulverized wood. The concrete around the mat was cracked. It looked like a meteor had crashed into it, or a giant giraffe but. Zafta sat with a satisfied smile on her face but didn't make a move to get off. She was happy to stay seated for a little while longer. Texas, on the other hand, couldn't be more miserable. Over the years, the cowgirl had faced all manner of giant foes. She had been flattened more than she could count, but this was something else. She was flattened and spread out across the entirety of her rear. With every second, more and more sweat dripped onto her. By now, the giraffe was slathered with sweat. Finally, Zafta decided to get up but was stopped by the stickiness of Texas.

"Come on, cowgirl. I know I got a booty to die for, but you don't have to be so clingy."

Zafta tried to stand up again. This time, her muscular thighs were enough to stand up accompanied by the sound of velcro separating. Texas was beyond paper thin. Her face was frozen in pure terror. Her body was far bigger than it used to be, forcibly spread out to around the size of Zafta's rear. She was also somewhat shaped like her booty, like two wide disks. Zafta didn't pay any attention to Texas. Instead, she whistled as she looked around the destruction.

"Wow, this has got to be the first one for me. I'm sure management will talk my ear off for going too far. I'm not sure you'll ever recover from this. You're probably not even half a centimeter thick anymore, but they'll change their tunes once the ratings start rolling in. What do you think, cowgirl?'

Zafta turned her neck to glance back at the now pancake, once respected sheriff. Instead, she noticed that her ass was bear. "Oh, looks like my shorts finally gave up the ghost. Maybe I should cut back on my squats... or maybe it's all those sweets I've been eating lately." She turned her attention back to Texas. "Hey, you don't mind helping me out here, do you? You were a marshal or something before, right? I'm sure you don't mind."

The former did mind. In fact, she did mind a lot. It didn't stop any of her old enemies, and it wouldn't stop Zafta. Texas felt almost nostalgic about her old enemies. At least between fights, she got to rest, and most of the townspeople liked her. Now, she was almost constantly squashed and crowds of fans cheered her torment on. Most of the wrestlers here also put most of her old enemies to shame. Zafta reached down and successfully peeled Texas off in one go.

"Hey, I'm starting to get pretty good at peeling you off stuff. Let's see if I'm any good and weasel tailoring. Just got to fold you a few times. You're too thin to properly feel that signature weasel silky softness."

Unfortunately for Texas, Zafta proved to be a natural at molding smaller creatures. With her tongue pointing out the corner of her lips and a symphony of squishing sounds, the giraffe expertly folded and molded the former sheriff into a current pair of shorts. Her face was thankfully on the outside of her new tan and brown shorts body, not that it gave her much comfort. Her eyes were still capable of moving, but her mouth was frozen into a sad frown. She looked around desperately for anyone to help, but she was met with the cheering crowds, having a great time.

"Now let's give you a test run."

Zafta flexibly raised one of her legs high into the air. She slipped in one leg. She hopped around on that leg while she slipped on the other. Once both legs were through, she focused on the tough part. Getting her new weasel fur shorts up her thighs and ass. Texas had the misfortune of going through the experience of being panties several times. Usually, her tormenters only had problems once they reached their hips, but Zafta was having difficulties from the get-go at her monster thighs.

"Come on, cowgirl. Stretch! You can do it! I know you have it in you!"

The giraffe pulled and pulled. She was making slow but steady progress. With every tug, she traveled higher and higher and Texas grew more and more stretched. But Zafta was no quitter. Eventually, she successfully managed to get Texas past her thighs and over her perfect rear. She let go of Texas's waistband, letting her snap against her waist, causing her cheeks to jiggle. Texas's face was stretched across one of the biggest butts she ever came across, and the only way she was getting away was when Zafta peeled her off. Of course, the cherry on top of her torment was the buckets of sweat soaking into the very fabric of her being. Texas was a strong girl, but even she would admit she would have been sobbing if her flattened eyes could manage tears. The only light at the end of this dark crack was that management would make sure Zafta wouldn't make her a part of her wardrobe after this jaw-dropping show... she hoped.

"I think that was a good show, but a little on the short side. What do you think, cowgirl? I think they deserve a little more." Zafta slapped Texas, and by extension her ass. Both jiggled again, taking a solid few seconds before they stopped.

Zafta began to slowly and sensually stretch in the middle of the ruined ring. It was almost a dance to a tune only Zafta could hear. The cheers quickly transformed into hoots and catcalls. Of course, her flawless rear was the star attraction, and so was Texas by extension. She could feel the powerful muscles shift and tense at her back. A persistent fear at the back of her mind gnawed away at her. The fear that after one powerful flex, Zafta's glutes would tear her apart. Those cheeks would constantly chew on her fabric-like body. At the very least, Zafta would pull Texas out of her musky abyss, if only to keep Texas front and center to her own humiliation. As the dance went on, it became more and more focused on her blubbery rear. She would frequently shake it from side to side, like a maraca, hypnotizing anyone with its smooth swaying, but that wasn't the end of it. Soon enough, she squatted down, really putting Texas's durability to its limits. She popped her ass up and down in a rapidly increasing rhythm. Soon, nausea was added to the shame, pain, and misery she was feeling. Her view of the world was distorted as she moved with Zafta's tune. In contrast to the former sheriff, Zafta was having a great time. At first, she just wanted to extend the show, but she had fallen in love with the feeling of weasel fur against her plush rear. At first, she found the former sheriff to be tight and constructing, but now she found the constructing fabric to be like a full-bodied hug, and in a way, it was. While it was tight, her bountiful boot still had some room to shift and glided across weasel fur while she shook her booty, and it was like she was rubbing her rear in the world's most luxurious fabric. By the end of her dace, a pool of sweat had gathered at her feet, and droplets of it covered the wrecked ring. She had also thrown all modesty into the wind. Her dance was all focused on her jello booty. She shook it left and right, up and down, and Texas was **** to feel it all. She had also given up on pulling out her sheriff wedgie, allowing her crack to completely devour the unfortunate woman. By now, all she wore was a brown and tan thong. Once she had danced her heart out, she stood up straight, too exhausted to take care of her wedgie.

"Alright, folks, that's enough of a show for me. Remember to tip your waiters before you go," Zafta joked. A collective awe echoed from the crowd. "Sorry, but that's it for me tonight. But tune in next time for the best wrestling around."

Confident that she had given the crowd more than their money's worth, she walked down the aisles to the backstage. Even as she went, she couldn't resist giving them just a little more. As she walked, she swayed giggly booty from side to side in a heavily exaggerated sashay. Of course, Texas had the best seat in the house, feeling the all-encompassing cheeks around her keep chewing her up.