Thread: Alexa Bliss vs Daria May -- Your vote will determine the winner

Chantal was doing her best to quiet the scene. She'd already glanced down the hall once or twice to see figures catching a peek at her unfortunate situation and she didn't want to invite any more attention. She tried using both her hand and her mouth to make her work easier and satisfy him sooner, but he slapped her hand out of the way and cupped the back of her head, pushing down hard. She couldn't stop the shocked, muffled scream that undid all of her attempts to silence the event and, judging from the noises Anton himself was making, made it all the more enjoyable for him. She tried blinking up, making eye contact to plead past watery eyes for softer treatment, but he was staring straight up at the ceiling now, and he was forcing his way toward the back of her throat. She coughed as much as she could, spittle now dripping onto her thighs. 12 minutes, he lectured. You were supposed to lose, but I told you . . . make it last . . . at least twelve minutes. She had gone down in 7. At this point her punishment had already lasted twice as long as the fight itself. She squirmed, shifting her tongue to try to make more room, and Anton held her head down tight, no longer even letting her come up for air. If you can't put up a real fight, why even put you on the schedule. She grunted some kind of protest, both to her face fucking and the threat. The grunt sent Anton over the edge and he sighed in relief as he emptied himself into the back of Chanta's throat. Her grunts renewed their frustrated tone until her mouth was too full to continue. Daria was beaming. Someone had put a perfect blue and white get-up in her locker, and there were even flowers waiting for her. She knew they probably buttered up every new fighter like this, but she didn't mind. If they wanted to boost her ego, she'd gladly take the boost. She minded the two or three managers that had helped themselves to spectator seats right there in the women's locker room, making no attempt to hide their stares as they watched the girls change for their matches and photo ops, but if that's how this was all organized, she'd just have to muscle through it and put on a smiles. A couple of the wrestlers were checking their phones, giggling at something and occasionally flashing a glance at Daria with a sympathetic, Oh, oh sweetie, that was some kind of dumb arch of the eyebrow. She hadn't even stopped to consider that the video would be making the rounds that quickly, so she assumed it must just be that they were checking out her profile. She turned her face to a mirror, sitting in one of the seats with her back facing the other wrestlers to hide her blushing as much as she could. When she glanced up in the mirror again to see if anyone was watching her, she mistakenly made eye contact with one of the managers, who only answered with a wink. She let out a disgusted sigh, and then the chatter of the locker room was interrupted by slams and shouts in the backstage hallway outside. Daria joined two other wrestlers as they gathered there in the doorway. That's when she saw Alexa. It didn't even register. Hey, she whispered to the other two, I thought Alexa was taking a break from fighting? She was more than a little starstruck, truth be told.