Texas Making an Ass of Herself (End)

Zafta kept up her sashay even after she left the crowd behind. More so to taunt her defeated opponent and to feel the luxurious weasel fur shift around within her crack than to show off to the crowd. The giraffe felt on top of the world. This was by no means a big match, but she had a blast. She would miss Texas when she would eventually let her go, so she was determined to make the most of her time with her. As expected, Texas felt the opposite. Her face, now entirely wedged up giraffe butt. She felt like she was in one squishy, blazing, and moist furnace. Those three sensations combined together to form a unity of torment for the poor weasel.

Soon, Zafta reached the hallways that led to every other part of the large building. The flow of sweat had slowed down, especially now that she was out of the room full of hundreds of screaming fans and bright, intense, lights. The gentle whir of the conditioner was the only sound around now, cooling her down. Unfortunately, none of that cool air managed to breach Zafta's hefty cheeks and she was already drenched in sweat, so Texas had no reprieve. Wrestlers had access to all kinds of luxuries offered by management. From luxurious treatments to state-of-the-art workout equipment. The only real rule was to not involve the non-wrestling staff. That's what the jobbers were there. Of course, they were also welcome to everything offered, if they could avoid being snatched up by the bigger wrestlers. Texas had never had a spare moment to try out anything herself. Instead, she enjoyed the wrestler's hospitality, which usually consisted of mangling her body into unnatural forms, squashing her flat, or shoving her inside tight and sweaty spaces. Sometimes, any combination of the three, like right now.

"Hey, cowgirl, looks like I'm going to have some one-on-one time with you after all? What do you want to hit up first? Mind be a good idea to head to my dressing room where I know we can be alone. I can always try going to the spa for a massage. My butt's been killing me recently for some reason," she said with a smile, punctuating her taunt with a smack to her right cheek with enough **** to leave a faint mark and jiggle both cheeks. She winced, immediately regretting that. "Ow! Okay, maybe a deep tissue massage won't be such a bad idea. I can't have any fun with a sore butt."

The giraffe continued to walk through the halls. She leaned her long neck every time the hall intersected with another. She'd rather hold onto the former sheriff for as long as possible. Luckily, the coast was clear. Not too long after, she reached a door with a simple stick figure lying on a massage table on a sign pinned to it. They were a few more doors beside it, each one smaller than the last. This wrestling division boasted a large, diverse roster of wrestlers of all sizes and weight classes. Ironically enough, there were also no weight class restrictions. One of the drawbacks to the roster was needing to have the smallest and biggest wrester in mind when it came to its construction. Zafta was proudly one of the largest. She opened the largest door and stepped inside. Again, she lucked out as there were no other wrestlers around, which was a rare sight in the massage room. Massage tables of all sizes were organized into neat rows. Only the companies employees were there. The spa employees wore long white coats and also had a diverse pool of employees. Another requirement when servicing wrestlers of all sizes. A large, burly moose stepped up to greet Zafta. She was only about half of Zafta's height, but her arms were strong enough to properly massage the bigger girl.

"Great show out there, Zafta," the moose greeted. The non-wrestling employees moved mostly without fear, but accidents did happen from time to time. "Probably one of your best. We were watching it in the break room. Hell, we felt the impact from here."

"Thanks, but that's why I'm here. I'd like to spend to alone time with the cowgirl in my dressing room, but that last butt dropped really left a number on me. I'm hoping you can help me out here."

The moose snorted. "Luckily for you, we did have something new set up in one of the spare rooms. Depending on feedback, it could be a new mainstay. It's called a hot rock massage. Great for sore muscles. Come on."

Zafta was led to another set of doors. She walked through the door and was hit with a blast of hot steamy air. She fanned her face and once again, she started sweating buckets. Being in the world's squishiest cell, Texas was just along for the ride. During the earlier conversation. she was sealed away in sweaty torment. And now, she was being assaulted with waves of fresh sweat. The heat also boosted Zafta's mighty cheek's already blazing body heat. Texas was almost liquefied within seconds of stepping inside the room. The giraffe looked around the room. Or at least tried to. Sweat was dripping across her face and the room was filled with hazy steam. Once her eyes adjusted, she was greeted with a similar layout to the last one with an added feature. Giant metal braisers dotted the room, the source of the steam. Buckets of water were placed beside them. Inside the braziers were black, smooth oval-shaped rocks. The moose woman walked in a few moments later with a rolling table full of massage supplies, including plenty of oil. She rolled it to one of the massive massage tables. She didn't bother putting any towels on it. Zafta would drench it with sweat no matter what she did. Some good foresight included making the cushioned surface removable.

"Lay down and relax, Zafta. Just need one more thing before we continue."

The giraffe nodded, but before she climbed on top of the table, an idea struck her. She looked down at her sheriff turned jobber turned shorts turned thong with a smile. "Buckle up, cowgirl, because you're in for one wild ride."

She reached down and gripped Texas by her waistband. She tugged them downward, but getting her off proved to be just as hard as putting her on. She tugged and tugged, but Texas refused to budge. Not that she wanted to stay in the increasingly sweaty crack. The giraffe's ass had an iron grip on her and refused to budge an inch.

"Come on! Give it up!"

Her well-toned arms bulged as she pulled, using all her might to pull Texas out. Little did she know, she was unconsciously flexing her thighs and butt, sabotaging her efforts. Texas felt like she was being torn in two. The pressure was unbearable, but she had no other choice but to take it. Finally, with a loud snap, Zafta managed to pull Texas down to her knees with one last mighty pull. Once again, her lower body was nude and again, Zafta wasn't very concerned. She stepped out of Texas and held her up in front of her face. She was stretched beyond belief and soaked to her flattened bones.

"Yeesh, looks like my cheeks did a number on you. Well, I can tell you they miss you already and I can tell you feel the same way. That's why I have a little something something cooked up for you."

Texa's eyes widened, dreading what was to come. Zafta looked over the bottles of oils as she draped Texas over her shoulder like a towel. Some of them were empty or half used. Perfect for what she had in mind. First, she popped the caps off of all of them. Then she divided up the oils so each bottle was half full. She looked around the braiser and found just what she needed. One of the bigger wooden steam ladles. She set it on the table for later. She pulled Texas off her shoulder and held her with both her hands. Texas tried to plead with Zafta with her eyes, but the giraffe was too preoccupied to notice. Instead, she wound her into a tight, not unlike someone turning a towel into a makeshift whip. Once Texas was tight enough, she flexed with all her might, squeezing every last drop of sweat from her. Texas was too tangled up to be grateful. Zafta wasted no time stuffing her into the ladle. It was a little small to fit all of the weasel, but all it took was a little elbow grease to get her in there. Texas was helpless to stop what happened to her or what happened next.

"Hope this doesn't burn the ladle," Zafta said as she held it with Texas over the pile of hot rocks. Just as Zafta hoped, the heat wasn't enough to burn the wood but was enough to melt some weasel. Within moments, Texas softened into bubbling tan and brown goo. Texas had been squashed, smashed, and everything in between, but this had to be a new one. As she had melted, she felt herself become more and more relaxed. It might have been pleasurable if it wasn't for the overbearing heat. If someone paid very close attention, they might be able to catch a glimpse of a pair of eyes swirling among the goo but they soon melted too. Once Zafta was sure there were no solid bits left of Texas, she pulled her away and leaned over the table of oils. She squatted down to get a better angle.

"I hope I don't spill any of you. Don't want to waste a drop."

Zafta carefully poured some melted weasel in to one of the oil bottles. The melted weasel had a thick, smooth texture. She dripped just enough to top it off. There was a clear portion of oil and weasel in the bottle. She nodded in approval before moving on and topping each and every bottle of oil with some of Texas. There was just enough to fill the last bottle. Not a drop of her was waisted. Being split up over several bottles was another new one for Texas. It was strange. Her conciseness had been split up between every bottle. She could feel every plastic surface and layer of oil below her and she could even see in an odd way. Things only got stranger when Zafta picked each bottle up and vigorously shook each one after recapping them. Water and oil may not mix, but melted weasel and massage oil on the other hand mixed very well. Now, each bottle was filled with a custom weasel extract massage oil mixture. Zafta had just enough time to lie down on the table before the moose returned, carrying a pair of metal tongs.

"Sorry, but we're still not completely set up. Had to unbox this thing. Wouldn't be much of a hot rock massage without a couple of hot rocks," she said as she stood at Zafta's side. She looked over the table of oil and frowned. "I could have sworn some of these were used." The heavy steam obscured her vision just enough for her not to notice the odd oil color.

"Must of have been your imagination," Zafta said, restraining a smile. "Do you mind using all of it? I really need to wind down."

"After that match? You need it."

The moose grabbed one of the bottles of weasel oil. Texas would have gulped if she wasn't just a few bottles of oil. She squeezed a generous glob of oil onto the palm of one hand. The oil was thicker than usual, but the moose shrugged it off. She rubbed her hands together to spread the oil and got to work. She started off by firmly grabbing onto one of Zafta's mighty cheeks. The giraffe's reaction was immediate. She purred in pleasure. She didn't know how the weasel would do to the oil, but as it turned out, it made the oil have the same velvety smoothness of weasel fur combined with the warm, soothing muscles relaxing properties of the oil. The best of both worlds. As an added bonus, the weasel oil also fixed her sore muscles very quickly. She closed her eyes as she let that moose masseuse do her work. The bottle of weasel oil didn't get her very far. She only managed to cover a relatively small portion of a single cheek.

If there was one thing Texas was certain about what was happening to her is that it was horrid. The heavy steam made Zafta sweat even more than she did in the rink. Regular oil didn't mix with water, but as it turned out weasel oil and sweat mixed together just fine. For her, it was like her entire being was rubbed and spread across the giraffe's squeezable buttocks. Only one bottle was used up, and Texas was already pushed beyond her limits. If someone was particularly observant they would notice the remaining bottles slosh in protest. Unfortunately, no one noticed, and even if they did, it was unlikely anyone would care. The moose grabbed another bottle and this time just dumped the entire bottle onto Zafta's cheek. She almost squealed in pleasure, practically melting on the table. Metaphorically, at least. The moose was now really invested in her work, using her entire body to massage and lather those cheeks with oil. Bottle after bottle was used up. It took half the bottles to completely soak one of the cheeks and the rest was used on the other. By the time the massage was done, both cheeks were left glistening with weasel oil. To top it off, she used the tongs to place a few hot rocks onto her back and butt. They sizzled slightly on the oil. Zafta had fallen asleep at some point. She had a smile on her face, snoring gently. The moose slapped one of the meaty cheeks, jiggling both of them. The giraffe didn't even stir.

"I'll let you sleep," the moose said, leaving the wrestler alone.

Or, not completely alone if you counted the layer of sentient oil rubbed Zafta's cheeks. There was only one upside, and that was that she was in one piece again. That did little to cheer her up. Texas had been spread across plenty of asses over her career as both a sheriff and a wrestler, but this was different. For one, she was mixed into a cocktail of oil and sweat. It was one thing to be soaked in sweat, but it was another to have it mixed into her body. At least without any substantial weight on her, she should start reforming now... any second now... just a little bit longer. With a growing sense of dread, she realized she wasn't recovering. This can't be happening! she thought to herself.

Zafta walked through the empty halls. She had woken up alone in the sauna with a puddle of sweat below her and her rear feel better than ever. Even hours after the massage, she still felt like she was in the middle of a massage with that wonderful weasel oil. All the employees had left for the night. She wasn't mad about it. In fact, she was a little glad to have some alone time. She headed to the locker room to get another pair of shorts and a shower. The weasel must have reformed at some point and slicked off. She entered the xl locker room. The locker room was just like any other. Just bigger. A few lockers against the wall and a bench before them. A tiled open shower block was built into the far side of the room. She immediately walked into it, took off her sports bra, showing off her hefty, but firm breast. She opened turned the valve to blast herself with warm water. Part of being a wrestler was getting down and dirty. She didn't mind it. She enjoyed it even, but even still it was nice to be clean. She let the water wash over her naked body, cleaning off her sweat. Once she was nice and fresh, she headed back to her locker. She popped it open to reveal some spare clothes. The interior of the door had a full body mirror. She took out her signature outfit, a black sports bra and shorts. She slipped on the bra easily enough, but as usual, the shorts would be an issue.

"Alright, time for the difficult part."

Zafta began her usual routine of hopping around, trying to squeeze her shorts around her thunder thighs and immense booty, jiggling her entire body. She sighed with her shorts halfway up her thighs. She had managed to turn so her rear faced the mirror during her hopping around. She noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She turned and her eyes widened at what she saw. Painted across her cheeks was none other than Texas's face, frozen in shock. The former sheriff's tan and brown pattern had overtaken Zafta's softer colors. Each mountainous cheek had half of Texas's face. Her tattoo looked back to her with sad eyes, unable to even twitch. Zafta didn't say anything at first. Instead, she slowly began to sway her butt from side to side, gently clapping her Texas covered cheeks. Zafta smiled.

"Looks like you really did fall head over heels for my booty. Don't blame you. Anyone would kill for a chance to be this close to it. Hey, now I can say I have a tattoo of Texas on my butt."

Texas would have pleaded for mercy if she had working lips. Instead, all she could do was jiggle along with those cheeks. It couldn't end like this! Management had to do something about this! She brought in ratings! Right?

Unfortunately, it didn't matter what anyone thought because Texas was permanently bonded to Zafta's perfect butt. No amount of pinching would ever manage to get a hold on her. She was just part of a greater wrestler. Zafta didn't mind at all. She loved her custom tattoo the moment she saw it. The soothing feeling of weasel oil never faded as an added bonus. Unfortunately, Texas had an early retirement **** on her, but that didn't stop her popularity. In fact, she seemed to be even more popular post-retirement. Any promotional poster for Zafta also had Texas front and center. Zafta even changed her outfit. She swapped out her shorts for a thin thong to have her partner proudly displayed. She had never been afraid of showing off her money maker, but with her new tattoo, she made sure Texas had more than her fair share of the limelight, shaking and jiggling her cheeks for all to see at every opportunity. A collector's DVD featuring a collection of Texas's fights was even released, including her last one of course. On the cover was Zafta mooning the viewer with nothing but Texas covering her cheeks. It was aptly named "The End." Texas's solo career might have been short-lived, but her partnership with Zafta was unbreakable and took her off to new heights of stardom.