The power dynamic of the WWE women’s hierarchy, be it the main roster or NXT, is a pretty simple concept to find out. Super powerful tops, often the larger and stronger women, over small, weak bottoms. A very understandable concept…typically. But, the second those words left Raquel González’s mouth, aimed directly at The Nightmare Rhea Ripley, that entirely simple concept became drastically more complex.

“You expect me to take a chance at losin’ my bum? Are ya having a laugh?” Rhea scoffed, almost caught off guard by someone she’d shared so many asses with in the past even suggesting something so ridiculous.

Raquel was flanked by her teammates for the upcoming Wargames match, Toni Storm, Dakota Kai, and Candice LaRae; all of the brutal bad guys that made up NXT’s stacked women’s division. “I’m being serious, Rhea,” Raquel assured in her thick Texas accent before reminding, “You’re the one who needs a fresh start after back to back major losses, first to Charlotte and then to your little ‘ally’ there.”

La Chingona was, of course, speaking of Shirai Io, the high-flying Genius of the Sky who pinned Rhea in a three-way for the NXT Championship, just a few months after Ripley suffered a humiliating defeat to Charlotte Flair at WrestleMania. “I’m just trying to help you out, you know? Get you on the right track.”

“Rhea’s fine!” A certain tatted-up, green-haired Ballsy Badass called Shotzi Blackheart interjected, the third member of Rhea’s team. “Don’t let her trick you, Rhea. She’s just trying to make you slip up before Wargames!”

Io was quick to slip in a “Hai!” to show her agreement, and the duo were soon joined by the final member of their team, Houston’s own War Goddess, Ember Moon, who reminded, “Raquel’s not someone you can trust! She’s teamed up with Dakota, after all!” That last remark received a scowl in response from The Captain of Team Kick, who merely stood by, allowing her trusted henchwoman to keep things under control.

“You’re one to talk, considering all you’ve blabbed about is winning the belt since you’ve come back. So much for teamwork, huh?” Raquel quipped, refocusing afterward. “But anyway, I need an answer, Rhea! Shotzi and I have a match tonight to decide who gets the Wargames advantage. I say, the winner also gets to cherry pick one ass from the other team. So, whaddya say?”

Rhea was primed to say no, she was ready to shut her one time friend down immediately. After all, there wasn’t a chance of Raquel picking anyone else, so a Shotzi loss was a guaranteed bumming for Rhea. Which a few months ago, would’ve been a price tag Rhea couldn’t afford. But after losing to Charlotte, in a match that was secretly contested under hierarchy rules, and losing her anal cherry, only to suffer a similar fate to Io, someone barely even considered a top to start with, it wasn’t a definite deal breaker.

The fact was, Rhea could afford to lose, especially if it meant Raquel losing her anal cherry ahead of their gigantic head-to-head collision. “Alright,” Rhea agreed, each powerhouse’s team gasping in unison. “Under one condition: when Shotzi wins, I get your ass. Not her.” Shotzi frowned; she was hoping that Rhea would agree so she could have Raquel’s ass for herself, and finally shake off the stigma of being a completely broken pain slut. But, there it wasn’t like she could argue with The Nightmare.

Big Mami Cool grinned. “Fine. And who knows, Rhea? Maybe I’ll take Io’s fat ass for a spin for the fiftieth time?” Raquel suggested as Io lowered her head in shame, disgusted by the dishonor her history brought to the prestigious title around her waist. “Or maybe Ember or Shotzi will entice me enough to draw me away from your big butt! Haha, who knows?”

Rhea knew there wasn’t a chance that would happen. Raquel hadn’t shut up about those aforementioned nights Rhea had suffered through; Ripley had done her best to try and convince former friend that nothing had occurred out of the normal. That those bets were only for the purposes of raising the stakes in the eye of the locker room, and that their asses had never been on the line to start with.

Raquel hadn’t bought though; she saw through the bullshit. No doubt, she wanted to witness what Charlotte and then Io had witnessed. What had to be a gorgeous, brutal sight: Rhea Ripley’s juicy fat ass, so round and perfect…too round and perfect for someone so strong and imposing. González wanted a taste for herself, that much was obvious.

“Well…may the best woman win,” Raquel settled, as the eight women went their separate methods, in preparation for the big match ahead.

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“Oh, Rhea, I just knew this big, fat ass of yours would be sooooo fun to squeeze,” Raquel giggled, kneading her hands into the fabric covering the Riptide Master’s juicy behind as the waited for the hotel elevator to ding and let them onto their floor.

“C-Can ya not, mate? I’d like to keep our indecency private, thanks,” Rhea groaned, boldly swatting La Chingona’s hand away and pointing at the video camera in the corner; sadly though, it did little to keep the muscle-bound Mami away from that ass, Raquel reaching back over immediately.

Latching her hand back onto the right of those meaty cheeks, Raquel replied, “Yeah, you’re welcome for that by the way. Way to show your appreciation and gratitude for my kind offering of allowing you to take the most vicious anal pounding of your life in solitude. You’re welcome!”

Rhea crossed her arms. “Thanks,” Ripley expressed unenthusiastically before adding in, “Though, it’s also the first of my life.” Struggling to tampen down her rage as those strong, powerful hands continued to grip and grope her delicious rump, Rhea was only seconds away from tearing her short, partially shaved blonde hair out before the ding of the elevator swooped in and rescued her.

Quite surprisingly, Rhea was quick to rush to the hotel room, the destination of her inevitable anal annihilation. Where most probably would take her actions as an obvious enthusiasm to have her bootyhole destroyed, Ripley was actually trying to avoid any potential onlookers who might see them together and think the worst. Sure, the entire locker room has witnessed their pre-match agreement, and yeah, everyone, including each member of their respective Wargames teams was in attendance for the shared departure from the locker room. But Rhea didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea; she wasn’t here under her own accord.

What if, by some miracle, one of the main rooster’s wrestlers was here, someone who didn’t know that Rhea was only here via a bet? A bet that she lost thanks to her weak, worthless teammate Shotzi Blackheart! Though, the loss wasn’t totally Shotzi’s fault. But, she should’ve just kept climbing dammit! She didn’t have to stop climbing when the iconic opening sting of Rhea’s theme hit, nor did she have to stand there like an idiot right up until Rhea and Raquel’s brawling sent the ladder, as well as Shotzi, crashing down to the mat. Dammit, it was all her fault, and Rhea didn’t want anyone thinking otherwise!

Nevertheless, The Nightmare hurried to the hotel room door, forgetting that her fellow bodybuilding brute carried the access-granting key card. So, she was forced to wait, Raquel taking her sweet time before finally arriving beside her cute little “Nightmare.”

“Someone’s eager,” Raquel smirked as she swiped the card, the red light on the handle turning green, then white, giving González the go-ahead to turn the handle.

“Fuck off,” Rhea barked, making sure to keep her composure despite how badly she wanted to wring Raquel’s neck out. But this back and forth, it was all part of the following proceedings, something she had choice but to suffer through.

“Oh, Rhea,” Raquel laughed off entering the room. “I couldn’t possibly do that.”

“Worth a shot, huh, mate?” Rhea shrugged, begrudgingly following her temporary top inside the dark, empty hotel room. “Though, there’s even less chance of that then there was for you to pick Io or Shotzi or Ember, huh?”

Giggling in a manner deceptive to her incredible stature, Raquel quipped, “Yeah, you really fell for that one, didn’t you? Fuck, Rhea, I’ve had those asses time and time again! But yours? A run with it is long overdue, even if I don’t get the pleasure of being your first.”

“S…Says who?” Rhea weakly asked, trying her best to build the illusion that those horrendous nights with Shirai and Charlotte had never happened.

“The last two champs, that’s who!” Raquel snapped before adding, “Rumor has it, Charlotte took it nice and slow on your butt. Really took her time until you were begging for a nice, hard bumming.” With the last few words, Big Mami Cool tried her best to imitate Rhea’s thick Aussie accent, much to her former friend’s chagrin.

“Whatever! Ya weren’t there, so ya don’t know what happened that night! And, what about Io, huh? How come she’s never mentioned bummin’ me once?”

Raquel laughed. “Shirai Io is your best defense? Seriously? She’s practically broken beyond repair! The only reason she tries to act like she’s not is because she’s some big name from Japan! Plus she’s the champ now, but none of that has stopped her from bending over every chance she gets! Face it Rhea, you bottomed to Charlotte and then, even worse, to a bottom!”

Raquel’s words were tough for Rhea to stomach; that’s why even though they were absolutely true, she refused to admit it, even now, in the solitude of a quiet hotel room with someone she used to trust. Coming to terms with it herself was an problem, so outright admitting it to a close friend turned bitter rival? That was out of the question, even after Raquel continued to prod, this time with a softer, more caring tone.

“Look, I know what you’re going through,” Raquel assured, flicking on the lights. “But honestly, Rhea, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. Don’t think of getting fucked in the ass as something bad, think of it as a testament to how strong you are. You survived a night with the main roster’s alpha! That’s impressive, babe.”

Rhea hated to admit it, but thinking about those experiences did help quell her worries about them. But, she still wasn’t eager to admit it, moving the subject along instead. “Can we just…can we please get this over with? I don’t want to be here all night, I’m already rooted as it is.”

“If you say so,” Raquel relented, dropping her bags on the floor, just beside the sofa; Rhea did the same, though she hoped she’d be picking them back up on her way out the door in no time. That was, of course, merely wishful thinking on her part, evidenced by the first order of the night Raquel uttered only moments later. “Little Miss Eager, go ahead and bend over the couch for me. You know the way, babe, ass all the way out, just like a good girl!”

Rhea balled her fists; if even for a moment, she contemplated taking her chances with a full scale attack. Of course, that was basically topping career suicide, and showing her face in the locker room again would result in getting forcefully passed around by every single member of the roster, tops and bottoms alike. Remembering that notion is what forced Rhea to unclench her hands and reluctantly trudge over to the sofa, bending over the arm, which sat low enough to put The Nightmare in perfect bitch position.

As she lay over the rolled arm of the sofa, Rhea defiantly quipped, “What, not gonna make me get all nuddy for ya? Shake my arse?” Though her tone let Raquel know Rhea was only joking, there was a twinge of genuity to it.

“I’m sure you’d like that,” Raquel fired back at Rhea’s apparent sarcasm. “But, I figure if I’ll let you have your way for tonight. I’ll have my fun and then let you go. If you find yourself obsessed with me and want to stay, that’s on you, but I’m more than satisfied with getting my fill and leaving room for dessert afterwards.” Raquel was of course referring to their inevitable clash inside Dusty Rhodes’ greatest creation, the double-ringed, single caged structure known as Wargames, where everyone’s asses would be up for grabs. “And, in any case, if we lose at TakeOver, I doubt you’d be able to break me, anyway.”

“What makes ya say that?” Rhea questioned as Raquel’s head disappeared into her large duffel bag, poofing back into existence moments later with a dildo in one hand and a harness in the other.

“Unlike you, Rhea, I’m not afraid of losing my anal virginity,” Raquel began to explain, removing her clothes before setting up the strap-on and securing it to her waist. “Because I know that there isn’t a single woman on this roster or any other tough enough to break me. But for some reason, you’re insecure about it. You worry more about taking cocks in your ass than you do servicing the assholes begging to be ravaged. That’s why I stopped hanging out with you, Rhea. I saw the writing on the wall.”

It was, in fact, Raquel that caused them to drift aside. What was once a pair of muscle-bound, butt-busting babes slowly drifted into a one woman show, Rhea so desperate to capture and then keep the NXT Women’s championship, their friendship and the topping that surrounded it began to play second fiddle. And though she tried to keep things fun, Raquel was ultimately the one who essentially ended their friendly relationship before developing something similar with Dakota Kai, which ended up doing wonders for her career in the long run.

Things had been very shaky between them since. Rhea was a “top guy” on NXT, and when they were still friends, Raquel was just a PC recruit. Now that Big Mami Cool was on the show, rapidly rising the ranks while The Nightmare had begun to drop dramatically, the tension was even thicker, the disdain and jealousy hitting an all-time high.

“I can’t break ya? Havin’ a laugh again, mate? Yer real fuckin’ golden, huh? Playin’ second fiddle to ol’ Kiwi Cocksucker? Real fuckin’ golden!” Rhea barked, her harsh words contrasting greatly to her compromising position, bent over a couch as a large, muscular woman approached with a monstrous 12-inch dildo protruding from her crotch.

Kneeling down behind her “mate”, Raquel took the sides of Rhea’s skin-tight, black cycling shorts into her grasp, slowly pulling them down to reveal that gorgeously plump, deliciously pale ass in all of its glory, the sight nearly making Raquel’s mouth water before she remembered that she had something to say. “Maybe I am, Rhea. Or maybe you’re delusional. Just as delusional as Dakota, who pays me a LOT of money to make people believe she’s a top. But, in reality, she spends most nights right where you are, moments away from a devastating ass fucking.” Such a revelation wasn’t really news, more so, it was confirmation of a well-believed, well-spread rumor.

With the waistband of the shorts now firmly around Rhea’s ankles, Raquel changed her target to that pesky black thong the tatted-up titaness was wearing. Her smooth, alabaster ass meat jiggled and wiggled from even the slightest touch, going mental as La Chingona struggled to pull the thin fabric down past Ripley’s lovely lower body, eventually succeeding in forcing those panties down to her ankles.

It was then that Rhea was faced with a horribly familiar feeling, one she’d only felt once before, but an experience she’d never forget nonetheless. The cold air passing over her exposed lower body, mixed with warm physical embrace of a large, powerful groping her bare ass. Even for someone as strong and imposing as Rhea Ripley, such a feeling elicited an immediately negative response in the form of a disgusting red hue staining her cheeks. Evidence of her embarrassment or, as Raquel preferred to view, her weakness. A weakness that Rhea was expecting her tormentor to verbally exploit.

Such a thing didn’t occur though. Instead of doing her best to humiliate The Nightmare, Raquel instead moved things along accordingly, kneeling down and spreading those juicy porcelain cheeks aside to give herself a quick view. Then, before Rhea even knew what hit her, Raquel dove in, tongue first for some good, old-fashioned anal preparation.

The soft, slippery touch of Raquel’s slimy muscle passing over that puckered anus sent a chill up Rhea’s spine. This was far from her first time getting rimmed; most tops usually subjected their bitches to such an act as a way to flex their dominance. But what Rhea wasn’t used to was the manner it occurred. Bent over a couch, no control over her ass cheeks; normally, Rhea would’ve reached back and shoved whoever’s head deep inside of her ass, holding it there for the duration of the oral exchange.

Everything though, from the speed at which Raquel wiggled her tongue to the fact that she wasted no time trying, and failing initially, to slip it inside of Rhea’s tight butt, was in Big Mami Cool’s hands. She was in control, not Rhea, which sent Ripley back to her second, far less horrible than the first bottoming experience with Io Shirai.

Despite her winning methods and world-traveled success, Io’s bottom status made losing to her of all people a blessing and a curse. Sure, giving up her ass to The Joshi Judas was humiliating, but once she got past that part, Rhea cruised through the experience. Io was hardly able to make her feel anything, outside of the rimjob, which was incredible due to her overwhelming experience bottoming out.

Similar feelings had already begun to occur with Raquel. It was surprising, to say the least, that an uber-powerful top like Raquel González had skill equal to, or possibly even exceeding that of a pro butt-muncher like Io Shirai. But she did! Goddamit she did; Raquel tongue felt amazing constantly licking her tight tunnel or circling around the edge. It felt so good, in fact, that Rhea got sort of lost in the pleasure, completely oblivious to Raquel’s second attempt at oral-anal invasion.

With her defenses down, Raquel was able to slide her tongue up that compact chute with relative ease, the warm, muscle-y walls immediately constricting around her tongue like a snake who caught its dinner. Rhea’s butt was so tight that, for a second, Raquel began to think that maybe her old pal was telling the truth about those nights with Io and Charlotte. Of course, she was aware that thinking such was foolish, so she quickly tossed the notion apart in favor of analyzing the flavor of The Nightmare’s supposedly untouched backdoor.

So strangely satisfying and, above all, incredibly tasty was Rhea Ripley’s butthole. Perhaps not quite as tasty as what Raquel was used to, that being Cap’n Kota’s cute little tush. God, Dakota just had the most-delectable shitpipe in existence! But, Rhea’s was a close second, or maybe third behind Toni Storm’s ridiculously fat ass. That’s neither here nor there though; the point remains that Rhea’s butt was one of the best, no doubt!

Running her tongue along the warm walls, feeling them constrict and contract and eventually relaxing altogether over the course of the rimjob was a real treat, which, combined with their history together made that munching on that hole even better. Digging her fingers into the plump, pale flesh of Rhea’s ass cheeks for leverage to dive even deeper inside was fun too, as was the way the former NXT Champ squirmed as the extended attention to her sensitive backdoor began to take its toll.

Rhea Ripley’s butt was a real treat, but what trumped the taste or the warm, cozy feeling inside of that ass were the soft, almost inaudible moans that began to escape The Nightmare’s mouth. Hearing someone she used to admire and look up to, a fellow alpha female moaning and almost whimpering under the weight of a pleasurable rimjob was simultaneously the most gorgeous and horrific thing Raquel had ever been subjected to.

“So much for the tough gal routine,” Raquel wondered to herself as growing the size of said moans and whimpers became her primary goal. It was easy to accomplish too; all it took was a little change in approach. Instead of simply wiggling her tongue around inside of that lovely Aussie bum, González began sucking and slurping, ensuring that as much spit from her own mouth found a new home inside Rhea Ripley’s big fat butt.