Money Mella Makes Her Mark Ch. 04

Mella bit down on her bottom lip in a childish fit of rage; so far, her plan to expose Sasha Banks as a useless little anal whore wasn't working. The bitch was putting up more of a fight than Carmella had initially expected. But, that didn't mean The Princess of Staten Island was all out of options. A top of her stature? Get real. Sasha Banks was going to yell, scream, hopefully even cry in pain, and Mella was going to revel in every single soundwave. And, she knew just how to pull out such a reaction.

With purpose in her eyes, Carmella dug her fingernails deep into the skin on Sasha's ass and held them there. Immediately, Banks reached back, attempting to push The Money Mistress's hand away but to no avail. Another rough spank, this one arguably more brutal than those before, forced Sasha's hand to retract, and the tiniest inkling of displeasure to escape her mouth.

Nothing more than an "ouch", but it was enough to justify Mella's actions, enough for the New Yorker to deliver another. Bang, bang, bang, three smacks in succession, all targeting the same ass cheek. Then, Carmella did the same to the other, before returning to the original with three more. Bang, bang, bang, like a sharp, cracking whip, tagging Sasha's gorgeous brown skin and infecting it with the disgusting pink hue, the evidence of a fate that no top should ever have to suffer from. And every time Mella's powerful palm struck The Boss's lovely little bottom, Sasha bawled and hollered just a teeny bit louder, mirroring the reaction of her seemingly adoring fans.

Brie, Nikki, and AJ, a trio of bottoms from a bygone era, watching on as their mistress, the all conquering Princess of Staten Island paddled Sasha's precious peach, cheering and jeering as crowds usually tend to in situations like this. Even laughing eventually, Sasha's pain and suffering hilarious to the unholy Trinity who'd risk life and limb to take her place. The way she squawked one second and growled the next, as if to show off her meaningless rage, the way she squirmed under Mistress Carmella's awesome might; watching Sasha Banks get her ass beaten like a good little bitch was a sight to behold, and the threesome of former Divas Champions ate up every second of it. They even offered a bit of sage advice to the less-experienced bottom.

Struggling to contain her laughter, Nikki suggested, "Just breathe, and try not to focus on how much it hurts, Sasha! Eventually, your body will give in and accept its place under Mistress Carmella!" As expected, little sis was never far behind.

AJ added, "We were all put on this Earth to serve her, Sasha, and that includes you. You belong to her just like we do, even if you don't see that yet." The last one stung particularly hard, to the point where even though she was desperately fighting through the pain of having her ass continuously spanked, Sasha felt the need to fire back.

"I'm not- OWW, GOD DAMMIT! I'm nothing like you three! I'm a top! I break bitches and- GAH!" Another series of spanks came The Boss's way, her ass practically red raw now as a result of the seemingly endless beating and with it, came a decree, right from the mouth of Princess.

"Nope. You're not a top. A top wouldn't be gettin' their ass beaten, would they? A top, like me, does the ass beating, ain't that right, girls?" A chorus of cheers and mindless ovation followed, Mella continuing on after receiving her desired reaction. "See? Face it, Banksy, you're a bottom. I just think it's a shame that I can't take credit for turning you. Ya know, since Charlotte already-"

"I told you before, Charlotte- FUCK!" Sasha tried to interject, tried to stay defiant, but another brutal slap shut The Boss up as quickly as possible.

"Didn't I tell you not to interrupt me? Gee, you really don't understand power dynamics, do you? You see, Banksy, I'm in control here, I have the say over every inch of you. This wonderful body of yours is mine to use and abuse and your mind? Mine to shape and corrupt. Annnnnd, that's exactly what I'm going to do, whether you fucking like it, or not! Hahahaha!"

Mella cackled with delight as she sent another volley of spankings down before continuing her spiel. "Tonight, you're merely a toy for my amusement. You're my prey, Banksy. And as these bitches know, I LOVE to play with my catch. Which uh, brings me to my next point. You're probably wondering why I'm still spanking your cute little ass instead of fucking and gaping it, as promised, aren't 'cha?"

Ever the defiant one, Sasha stayed silent, staring a teary-eyed hole through the borough-bred defiler. Which, naturally, Mella took as a sign to continue running her mouth. "That's okay, I understand you're in a lot of pain, so you don't have to answer. I'll explain anyway. You see, when I said earlier that I wanted to see you in that fancy lingerie I bought for ya? I meant it with every fiber of my being. Annnnnd, I always get what I want, Banksy."

With determination in her eyes, Carmella gave a heads-up nod to Nikki, who quickly scurried over to the farthest corner of the room. A few seconds later she returned, holding a shopping bag that she hadn't just been holding before. A rather large and eerily familiar bag that, once Sasha got a proper look at, recognized it immediately, as well as the reason why her torment had dragged on for this obscene amount of time. Same color, same design, the bag was identical to the one Nikki and Brie had handed her earlier, right down to the company's logo plastered on the front in bold black letters surrounded by the bright pink of the design's remainder. And unsurprisingly, so were its contents.

Nikki drew in close, ensuring Sasha had a clear view before pulling out the exact same lingerie set that The Boss had strategically left in her hotel room. It was a beautiful set, one she'd love to wear for her shoot-husband if given the chance, so she planned to take it home after returning from this hell hole, but outright refused to wear it during her torment. Sorta like when...nevermind! Not important.

More pressing was the look of disdain on Sasha's face as she was forced to come to terms with how truly outmatched she was in this mental game of chess. Carmella was thinking five, maybe ten moves ahead at all times, even going out of her way to spend hundreds of dollars on designer lingerie, buying an extra set just in-case Sasha tried something devious. Persistent, intelligent, and stern, three qualities that made up the fiber of Carmella's being, three qualities that Sasha was downright conflicted about.

On one hand, getting absolutely played like a fiddle was not only infuriating, but also incredibly embarrassing for the self-professed "Legit Boss of WWE". But on the other hand, it was hard not to admire the care and effort that Mella put into her craft. Resources upon resources exhausted, hours upon hours wasted planning and scheming, all to assure that when the time came, not only would victory be hers, but claiming her prize would be just as, if not more enjoyable. Obviously, Sasha wasn't rockin' and roarin' to either continue to get her ass spanked or suffer the humiliation of dressing up like a doll for a woman who cheated to beat her; it was more so a slow clap, acknowledging that she'd been one-upped but hating the result nonetheless.

"You like that, don't you, Banksy? How I planned ahead for your little act of insubordination? See, I thought you might try to fuck on me and ruin my night, so I bought a second set, just in-case," Mella explained, though Sasha had already been able to deduce the happenings of the situation. "I wasn't kidding when I said that I wanted you to wear this, Banksy, so you're gonna. Either put it on, or we sit here all night, spanking your cute little butt."

With disdain plastered over her face, Sasha defiantly barked, "I'm not wearing it", to which Carmella smugly responded, "Suit yourself", before delivering another brutal spank to The Boss's bubbly bottom. The tattered, raw flesh burned and pulsated, making the pain even worse to bear. Sasha was far removed from holding back the evidence of her suffering; the screams had been pouring from her mouth for quite some time, and her sparkling brown eyes allowed streams of tears to fall gracefully down her gorgeous face.

So painful, so dreadful, but yet, she refused to give in. Escaping this nightmare, the strong hand that once again clattered against her bum, bringing the less-battered cheek closer to mirror-matching its twin. Time after time, strike after strike, for what seemed to be hours on end, the once bright red marks, an amalgamation of claws and palm prints, had mutated into a darker, more twisted shade of crimson.

Such a pain should be unbearable, and some would say that walking around with wounds like this, the likes of which likely wouldn't heal for at least a week, was far more humiliating than simply putting on a lingerie set. But not for Sasha. For whatever reason, she couldn't abide the thought of dressing up for Carmella. Maybe it was the idea of devaluing herself, a multi-time champion, by looking pretty for a worthless rookie who's greatest victory occurred earlier tonight. Or maybe...it was something else? Nothing was certain, outside of the fact that Sasha Banks was as stubborn as she was pretty, and that Carmella was beginning to lose her temper. Which, sadly, meant that things were only going to get worse for the poor, helpless Legit Boss.

As time moved on, and Sasha continued to remain insubordinate, Carmella began to grow tired. Tired, not only of Sasha's pointless fighting, but of the spanking itself. Could she go on spanking Sasha's cute little butt forever? Yeah, but that would stop her from truly attaining her prize: The Boss's sweet, supposedly untouched asshole. So, after nearly an hour of spanking that ass, Carmella decided to put Sasha out of her misery.

She didn't stop spanking though; far from it actually. See, Banks was still going to wear the lingerie, Mella was just tired of giving her the option. So, instead of letting her off the hook or forcing her into the lace attire, The Fabulous Diva threw out a non-stop volley of strikes to that damaged, beaten bum. Hard, vicious spanks, as strong as any that she'd thrown throughout the session, one after another after another, giving Sasha little-to-no time to recover from the brutality.

The heinous assault forced a series of wails and screams from the mouth of the purple-haired protester, but did little to slow Carmella down. Beating that ass became second nature, just as common as Sasha's terror-filled screams, of the happy, enthusiastic jiggling of her butt everytime The Money Mistress made contact. No mercy, no remorse.

Seconds on the clock ticked by, Sasha begging her mind to give in, to stop the suffering. For whatever reason, her mind refused. It was such a pointless fight anyway, at least in Carmella's eyes. Just an excuse for Sasha to be stubborn and pretend to be stronger than she really is. All that commotion, just because she didn't want to wear the lingerie? Really? So stupid.

Nevertheless, after well over an hour of fighting, Sasha was finally ready to throw in the towel. Surviving was much easier when she had a few seconds to allow the stinging to pass, a luxury she hadn't been afforded for nearly ten minutes now. The pain had become completely unbearable, with the thought of having to try and sit for the next week, maybe even the next two or three weeks only making her decision easier. As much as she didn't want to wear the stupid fucking underwear and doll herself up, continuing to punish herself by prolonging the inevitable was even dumber. So, taking a nano-second in between spanks, Sasha made her decision, loud and clear.

"Fine! Fine! I'll wear it, okay! Just please stop!" Sasha begged, Mella continuing to slap that juicy rump red raw.

"What was that, Banksy? Did you say something? I couldn't hear it over the sound of me punishing your ass!" Mella cruelly asked, obviously hearing the glorious submission escape Sasha's mouth.

"Please stop spanking me! I'll put on the fucking lingerie, I promise! I'll do anything, just please, stop!" Finally, Carmella pulled her hand away, the palm of which burned and pulsated after a spanking session far longer than anyone should ever be subjected to.

"Okay, we're done," Mella abruptly conceded, pushing Sasha off and standing up, allowing poor, worthless Brie Bella to fall to the ground, her back in shambles after an hour of supporting more weight than it was designed to. She may have crumpled immediately, but Brie held up when it mattered most, a feat impressive enough to earn her a playful, complementary pat on the butt for her troubles, courtesy of her Money Mistress. A job well done, indeed.

Meanwhile, Sasha did her best to try and rub the pain away, briefly massaging her ass as Mella grabbed the bag from Nikki. With the shopping bag in her possession, Carmella walked over to Sasha and dropped the container at The Boss's feet. "Get to it, Banksy. I've wasted enough of my time already."

With her ass still incredibly sore and likely staying that way for the foreseeable future, Sasha rose to a knee and argued, "I still don't see why I have to wear it, anyway. You're just going to make me take it off", though she began changing nonetheless.

"Am I, though?" Mella asked, cheekily shrugging her shoulders. "You should know, Banksy, that I hate being predictable. So, I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Rolling her eyes, Sasha pulled the contents out one by one, ultimately ending up with a bra and matching panties, a pair of sheer stockings and a garter belt to them up. Just as she thought, the set was exactly the same as that which Brie had given her earlier. With a groan, Sasha removed the rather plain bra from her personal collection allowing her small but perky tits a brief moment of freedom before covering them with something a bit more flattering.

With her top half finished, Banks progressed lower, where the remainder of the outfit would reside. She pulled down her boring black underwear, remembering to make a show out of the ordeal midway through and turning around to give her temporary Money Mistress a better view. Sasha did her best to remove her panties without irritating the raw, tender skin on her ass cheeks. She was rather successful, doing away with the dran and replacing them with the lavender number that matched her top without any major inconveniences. Those would come later.

For now, Sasha relished in the ease as she picked up the garter belt and stepped through, eventually pulling it up to her waist. Which, of course, left her with the most difficult portion of her little game of dress-up. There was no avoiding it; if she was going to put the stockings on, just as Mella had demanded, then she had no choice but to sit on her battered cheeks. With a deep breath following an annoyed sign, Sasha Banks took a seat on the floor, immediately wincing in pain.

Her battered, bruised ass flared up; the muscles had already begun to swell from the abuse, and even the slightest touch would've been incredibly painful, let alone forcing her ass to support the entirety of her weight. But, as stubborn as ever, Sasha persisted, trying her best to shift herself into the most comfortable position possible as she picked up the first stocking.

God, this was so humiliating! All of Sasha's onlookers laughed and giggled as she struggled to pull the stocking up whilst dealing with the overwhelming pain and agony. Then suddenly, she had an epiphany! Sasha rolled onto her back like a turtle, taking the pressure off of her ass and making it much easier to bring the stocking up her long, toned leg, past her knee, and ultimately stopping at the middle of her thigh. Then the pain returned but only briefly as she returned to a sitting position to grab the other stocking. Only temporarily, Banks quickly fell backwards again and pulled the second stocking up with the greatest of ease, all while Mella groaned as she was deprived of The Boss's suffering.

With the entirety of the set now adorning her captivating form, Sasha Banks rose to her feet, putting the finishing touch on like a cherry on the top of a sundae by attaching the stockings to the garter belt. Her performance was complete; she'd given Mella exactly what she wanted and now, they could move on with the rest of their night. Fuck! Both figuratively and literally, mind you.

Now that all of the formalities were out of the way, nothing was stopping Carmella from claiming her prize. A prize that she was forced to sit back idly, lusting after for months on end. Now that Sasha Banks was properly dressed, Money Money could finally claim her ass. But, not before a little preparation, sadly.

Assuming that Sasha was telling the truth about being an anal virgin, prepping that hole for its very first defiling was only fair, right? And Carmella was nothing if not a reasonable mistress, who would dare jeopardize the chance to add the great Sasha Banks into her clique of missfit anal whores. Part of doing so would require The Boss to not only enjoy getting her ass stuffed, but to fall in love with it so much that she'd be willing to devote herself to The Fabulous One. Mella was confident in her abilities, and she was pretty certain she could crack even the toughest of nuts. But Sasha was a stubborn one, and providing the necessary preparation would make things much easier in the long run.

"Stand up, whore! I wanna get a good look at you," Mella barked, Sasha angrily firing back with, "I'm not a whore," as she begrudgingly rose to her feet. As expected, The Boss was a sight to behold, the lacy lavender outfit blending seamlessly with her silky smooth and supple brown skin. Both the top and bottom hugged her soft, subtle curves perfectly, accentuating her already gorgeous assents and taking them a step higher.

"Sure, just like I wasn't going to beat you, either," Mella recalled, drawing near.

Sassily plastering a hand to her hip, Sasha argued, "You cheated."

"Details, details, my fair Legit Boss. As we've already discussed, I don't care how I earned your asshole. Just that I did, just like Charlotte did!"

"Charlotte never 'earned' my asshole," Sasha snapped, reiterating herself for what felt like the hundredth time. "Why are you so fixated with me and Charlotte, anyway? Even if she has fucked my ass, it doesn't matter. She's fucked everyone's ass! Probably even yours." Initially, Sasha regretted firing her mouth off, but Carmella took what she'd said much better than anyone could've predicted.

With a tone far more serious than that of her typically jovial nature, Mella admitted, "You're right. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm not an anal virgin. But I'm not a seasoned veteran either. We all have our slip ups and mine? Mine happened when I hardly knew what I was getting into, with the woman who'd go on to become the alpha of WWE. But mind you, that was then, before I became the most fabulous chick in all of wrestling. It's thanks to that experience with Charlotte that I'm so money now!"

Continuing, Mella further explained, "That's why I'm not afraid to admit it, Banksy. But you hide from your truth, even after you claim how inconsequential it is. That's sad and pathetic, and that's why if you're not going to tell me the truth, then I'm going to fuck it out of you. So go on and get on all fours for me so I can boot up our little lie detector test."

Sasha gave Carmella her best puppy dog eyes but obviously, The Staten Island Princess wasn't buying it. So, dragging her feet as she did so, Banks walked over to the emptiest spot possible and knelt down, ultimately lowering her head as well. Face down, ass up, the perfect position for someone like Sasha Banks, as far as Carmella was concerned. A worthless, dirty, rotten bottom at her core, a pathetic representative of womankind.