A cushion to the (end)

Zoey feels Victoria’s weakening struggles. All of her time and effort spent gorging on snacks to grow her booty and her stink have paid off! All those years being everyone else’s fart sponge, being gassed out by so many bigger, smellier, more hypnotizing asses, she couldn’t take it anymore. This was the result of her hard work. She had earned this chance to dominate someone else, and she wasn’t about to let it slip away.

RUBRUBRUBRUBRUB

GRINDGRINDGRINDGRIND

SHAKESHAKESHAKESHAKE

Zoey savors the moment, moving her jiggly booty all over her opponent’s face. Sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. Sometimes gingerly, sometimes brutally. Vicky’s face is smushed into submission, being pushed and pulled around by the unnecessarily fat rear of the supposed jobber who was currently humiliating her. How could this happen to her? When will this **** end?

“Do you regret underestimating me yet? Do you think your tiny little brain will even work after I soak my stink into your pathetic nose? You thought you could out-muscle AND out-speed me? Get real. You’re slow, and you’re sloppy, and you lost to a poor little weakling like me. I’m never gonna let you forget this. As a matter of fact, I’m never gonna let you be anything but my butt cushion! How’s that sound, loser?” Zoey says.

A faint reply, something witty, probably, materialized in Vicky’s head. It vanished before she had the chance to speak it. Besides, her mouth was a little busy getting pressed into fat, stinky butt cheeks for her response to be heard anyway.

“Oh, looks like your time’s up, my little fart-huffer. I can’t wait to use you more, next time!”

BRRRRRRRPPPPPPTTTTTT

BRRRAPPPPPP

FfffssssHhHSssHHHHHSSSSHHHHHHHHH

Zoey’s final barrage bathes Vicky in stink, causing her world to fade to black.

Zoey never gave Vicky a chance for a rematch. She quickly dragged Victoria’s body to the locker room, where she proceeded to cut nasty fart after filthy poot all in Vicky’s face. Vicky would wake up tied to Zoey’s locker room bench, **** to inhale Zoey’s pre and post-match gas for each new fight Zoey had. Often, a sweaty, frustrated Zoey would let off her extra “steam” in Vicky’s face after losing to stronger, smellier wrestlers. Vicky came to love feeling useful to little Zoey, soaking up the jobber’s gas like the obedient cushion she was always meant to be.

“What would I do without you, Cushiontoria? No one sniffs up my gas like you do, and I mean no one. Like seriously, I just keep losing to everyone else. It’s a good thing you were even weaker than me, because that’s saying something. Oh well, see you after next match, and the next, and the next…”

BBBBBBRRRRRAAAAPPP

BRRFFFTTT

FFFFSSSSHHHHH

PRRRBBBTTT

GAME. OVER.