Submit stories to: wowefastories@gmail(dot)com
with the title heading "WOWEFA Story Submission"

This story is fictional. I know it is because I'm writing it in the first
person and telling you it is fictional. Enjoying the story is fine, but
actually doing it is bad and probably illegal wherever you are. Warning
over, onto the story.

Dominating The Divas Part 2
by Underdog

Chyna was out cold.. or she was dead. I really needed to know which so I
decided to listen for a heartbeat. I placed my ear down on her breast to
listen and made two important discoveries. First, her breast felt really
good against my cheek. Second, although her skin was soft and smooth, her
breast was firm enough to support my head quite nicely. I don't know about
you, but I found those facts pretty cool. Never did find out about the
heartbeat though... and I spent awhile on that breast... uhm listening for
it. Yeah, that's it.

Anyways, that test was 'inconclusive', so it was on to the plan B. I laid
my body on top of hers, found her legs with mine and encircled them. Then
using her breasts as hand holders (and believe me, they were up to the task),
I pulled myself up her body, climbing the mountain that is Chyna. When my
head reached hers, I knelt in slowly. As our noses came close, my lips
brushed up to hers and I felt the faintest breeze against my skin. She was
breathing... my prize was alive and sleeping quite peacefully. I gave her a
quick peck on the lips and arrogantly sneered, "You're all mine now."

You probably think I took the bitch right there. I raped her in her own
home, in her own fucking bed and she didn't know what happened until the next
morning. Well it didn't happen that way because I wanted her conscious. So
how about this? I started to fuck her, her body started reacting and she
woke up. She fought like hell, determined that she would never be raped! But
cuffed as she was, she couldn't fight back effectively and she got fucked
hard, cursing every moment of it. I know I had those thoughts then. Hell, I
even had a grin thinking that after it was all over, she'd never be able to
look at her bed.. nevermind sleep in it.. the same again. That would have
been awesome! But sorry, that didn't happen either.

There's only one thing that stopped me from doing that. One thought that
not only stopped me, but was even able to pry me off her body right then.
That thought was the plan I really had in store for her. I wasn't going to
have an appetizer here and now and risk losing the entire dinner planned for
later! So I slide off the bed to get to back to work.

I stood up tall and then tore the sheets off in a manner that would do a
magician proud. Chyna needed to get ready for travel and I wanted to know
what the hell she'd been wearing anyways. Damn, she was full of surprises and
none of them disappointing. She was wearing a strapless, jet-black nightgown
made entirely of silk... must be from Victoria Secrets or something. This
thing cut tight around her breasts, and short at the legs. By short, I mean
it would barely reach her mid-thighs when stretched, and it wasn't stretched
right now. The girl obviously liked the touch of silk against her skin. In
fact, on closer inspection, she wasn't wearing any panties which suggests
she liked the touch of silk on 'other' places too. Miss Laurer was clearly a
kinky bitch and I planned to come back and do a more thorough examination of
her home wardrobe... later.

Right now, Chyna and I had places to go and things to do. First thing I
did was slap a second pair of handcuffs on her, these ones were attached to
her ankles. This would prevent her from running off if she woke up, stop any
knees from smashing into my more 'sensitive areas' and generally reduce her
effectiveness in a struggle to about that of a one-legged man in an
ass-kicking contest... or so I thought.

Next thing I did was pull off that silky nightgown of hers. Since it was
strapless, and she wore nothing underneath, it came off no problem despite
the ankle cuffs. Now she was naked. No, there was nothing dangerous about
clothing but I had something else in mind for it. I rubbed it softly over my
cheek for a moment and then started twisting it like you might a towel. Once
it was wounded up pretty good, I opened Chyna's mouth and placed it firmly
against the back of her jaw before tying it behind her head. As a make-shift
gag, it wasn't exactly ideal. It wouldn't keep her silent, but it would
muffle her somewhat and make her words unrecognizable to anyone not standing
next to her. Which was fine, I figured that if she woke up and had something
to say, I should be considerate enough to listen. Now it was time to go.

Every plan has an element of risk. There's one spot in every plan that is
the 'moment of truth'. Once you cross that, everything is smooth sailing. I
was at that point now. My victim was naked, helpless and unconscious on her
bed and somehow I had to get her from there to my van across the street.
Several potential problems awaited me. What if I couldn't carry her? What
if she woke up? What if someone saw us? These questions all had unpleasant
answers which stacked upon one another... and to be frank, I didn't have
contingencies for all of them. Sometimes it just comes down to luck,
sometimes good luck and sometimes bad. Best you can do is plan things out
tight and try to make your own luck, but in the end you never really know.

So tossing my doubt and questions aside, I got back on the bed and rolled
Chyna over to the edge of the bed like a log. From there, I went over and
crouched down next the bed and used both arms to roll her off and onto my
shoulder. She hit me like a ton of bricks, but she fell perfectly. Her waist
fell right on my shoulder, which I encircled both arms. Her legs fell in
front of me, and I felt her chest and arms slide down my back. I was
breathing deeply now, I wasn't sure if I would be able to lift her or not.
The way she fell, I figured she weighed about as much as I did and it's been
awhile since I visited the gym.

Two things had occurred to me for this, one that worked in my favor and
the other that worked against it. The first one was that muscle is much
denser and heavier than normal skin tissue. This worked against me because
it was Chyna who had all the muscle which was going to make lifting her a
*bitch*. There wasn't an inch of fat on her, and I had her wedged good on
my shoulder which was about the best I could hope. This leads into the
second thing which I hoped would offset the first. That being that the
strongest muscles in the human body for lifting things aren't in the arms
or back, they are in the legs. That's why your momma always told you to
bend down to pick things up and that's also why I had crouched down and let
Chyna land across my shoulder instead of trying to carry her in my arms like
some glorified superhero. All this Didn't mean that this was going to be
easy, but I was just hoping to make it fucking possible! It was time to find

I went from my kneeling position to one knee and slowly up to both feet.
If you ever see the movie 'Men Of Honor', think of me when you see Cuba
Gooding Jr. trying to stand and then walk the 12 steps, because that's the
kind of effort it felt like I went through here. I took my time so I got
used to her weight and to make sure she didn't slide off. When I finally
stood up, I was breathing fast but I was managing. I took one small step,
and then another and gradually started stretching the strides. I was doing
it! I was right too, it *wasn't* easy. It required a lot of concentration
and I had to be conscious of everything. How her body moved when I moved,
how far I could step without losing balance, everything between us and the
door... but damn, let's not forget the most *important* thing... I had
biggest, strongest Diva slung over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and
I was carrying her! That should make any male ego, proud! If I could pat
myself on the back, I would have. But since I couldn't, I turned to my side,
saw Chyna's naked ass next to me and gave it a small kiss instead as we
moved out of her bedroom towards her front door.

I peered through the drapes and looked out at the street in both
directions as far as I could. No cars. No lights anywhere. I waited an
eternity to see if things changed.. it turned out to be more like 20 seconds.
No change. Things weren't likely to be better than this, and my sleeping
beauty could have been waking up at any time, so I just opened her front door
and stepped outside.

Speaking of steps, Chyna didn't have any.. well, okay, there were two
small ones but essentially she lived on the ground floor and the pavement was
flat. I was very grateful for that because I didn't know if I could handle a
flight of stairs with her. I was even more grateful that she was out cold,
because I knew I'd drop her if she started struggling. I moved as quickly and
cautiously as I could. Sacrificing one for the other as needed. Cautious by
moving in the darkest shadows I could find, but moving quickly towards the
van in as close to a straight line as possible to get this over with before
she woke up.

As I got closer to the van, I activated the keyless entry for the van
which opened the doors for me. Not only had I factored in that I would have
my hands full at this moment, but I had also taken the precaution of turning
the internal lights off so that when I arrived so it would remain dark
outside when it opened instead of lighting me up like a target. Even so, as
I neared the van, I made what I consider to be my first mistake of the

Call it cockiness, horniness or even an unconscious reflex, I am not sure
which myself but I had rested one of my hands on Chyna's ass most of the walk
outside and I indulged in a firm squeeze as I neared the van. Not only did
this invoked a tiny sound within Chyna, but I could feel parts of her body
start to stir.. like she was thinking of rolling over in bed.

I was less than ten feet from my van so the time for subtlety was over. I
grabbed hold of her waist with both arms and broke out in a run towards the
van. I focused on three things... knowing when each of my feet was hitting
the concrete, making sure to balance and hold her body on my shoulder when
each foot fell and the van doors... My eyes remained locked on the open
entrance in front of me like the finish line of a marathon.

Chyna was coming awake too. Maybe she felt the difference between the
night air on her skin instead of her bed sheets. Maybe it was the fact that
she couldn't move her arms or legs, or get whatever the hell seemed stuck in
her throat out. But if it wasn't any of those things, it was probably the
fact that her body was being violently bounced up and down like basketball
which woke her up so fast. I felt a wiggling coming from her and her knees
rubbed up against my ribs like she was trying to stand up. But that's as far
as she got. As we reached the entranceway, I didn't slow down, my momentum
and her shifting made that impossible. Instead, I used the last bit of
strength I had to jump and hurl both our bodies into the van.

The van's interior is very sparse. I'd taken all the seats out before the
trip so we hit floor of the van and continued sliding together until we
slammed into the other side. We would have landed in a sprawled mess of limbs
if not for the fact that her limbs were tightly bound together. Her body
landed first, and mine landed on top of hers. The moment we stopped, I had
the presence of mind to shove myself off her. It was more a defense mechanism
to 'get the hell away' than anything else, but it did allow me to get out
unscathed and quickly close the doors from inside.

I didn't want to use the internal lights, so I climbed over to the front
seat and grabbed the flashlight out of my glove compartment and then shined
it towards the rear of the cargo van. Chyna was very awake now and had rolled
onto her stomach. Her bound legs and arms were struggling to free themselves
and she looked very much like a fish out of water, flapping helplessly.
Realizing she couldn't free herself but knowing she didn't want to stay, she
did two things I couldn't allow to continue.

The first thing she did, predictably, was to scream for help through the
gag. It echoed pretty loudly through the empty van, but I was fairly
confident that no one else could hear it unless they walked right next to the
van. The second thing she did was get on her side and use both feet in unison
to kick at the door. Now that was something that could be heard outside, and
the whole van was probably rocking a little bit from her violent motions. I
had to put a stop to it.

You are thinking the tazer again, aren't you? Not this time. It's
generally unhealthy to repeatedly shock someone like that and there was
something else in the van for situations like this. I moved cautiously into
the back again with Chyna, trying to be generally mindful of her feet in
case she changed direction. She thought I was coming for her, so she coiled
herself into a corner and kept kicking at the van.

Actually I went over to the other side of the van and removed a canister
which was bolted to the wall. It was actually one of four canisters, but
that's not important. For lack of a better term, the canister contains
sleeping gas. I could tell you how I got it, but let's just say that there
are certain medical specialties that require these types of gases to put
patients under before certain medical procedures can begin... one box has
been misplaced. More accurately, the full canisters were replaced with
empties and since they probably won't need that box for another 4 weeks,
it'll be awhile before it's even noticed. I'm not a heartless bastard though,
it is only their second to last box. They'll have time to place an emergency
order and be replenished. No one will have to miss their surgery over it. But
I am digressing again.

Chyna may not know what was going on, but she seemed very reluctant to
allow me to get close to her. She backed herself into that corner keeping her
feet forward for protection. When she saw the canister plus the face mask I
was holding and pointing her way... well she really knew she didn't want
*that*! I walked towards her cautiously, the analogy of a cornered animal
ready to strike seemed very appropriate at this moment.

And strike she did. When I came in close enough, she lashed out with both
legs to try to hurt me. I expected this, so when she did it, I lunged at them
and tried to grab them. I succeeded in grabbing hold of the chain binding her
ankles... which was probably not my finest moment. Let's call this mistake
#2. My plan was to hold her legs and use them to drag her out of that corner.
Instead of that happening, she pulled her legs back and the force of that
yanked my whole body into the corner with her. But hey, I'm nothing if not
flexible. It wasn't quite how I wanted it but being right on top of her, I
made sure to slide to one side of those feet and I wedged my little face
plate up against her. And so the battle began! And a battle it was!

She tried to turn her head but I did my best to move with her. She tried
to turn to get her feet in position to kick me, but each time she shifted
position I would shift with her. She would roll over, I would happily roll
over with her. She did everything she could to keep that mask from her nose
and mouth. In fact, I give her a lot of credit for her ingenuity and
effectiveness. But it merely delayed things, not prevented them.

Even if the mask was not over her nose and mouth properly, it was always
nearby. Near her forehead, her cheek, underneath her jaw... wherever I could
get it. She needed to breath, in fact she needed to breath more the longer
the struggle continued. And with it always near by... even if not affixed
properly... every time she sucked down a breath, she would suck down a little
of the gas too.

This contest went on for at least 10 minutes with her reactions slowing,
her actions not as dramatic, her shoves and pushes getting weaker. Yes, we
fought a long time but she was bound at the hands and feet, she couldn't get
away and there was an evil gas that kept robbing her of her strength piece
by piece. I readily admit, it was not a fair fight.

Early on, she gave up on kicking the doors for escape or help. She
realized that she was on her own and fighting for her life. She kicked, she
rolled, she butted heads, she did everything she could to fight me or keep
me off of her.. but then that faded too. Her kicks never connected, I stayed
to one side of them always so she gave that up. She had wasted that energy
for nothing. Next she stopped trying to toss me off. That took a lot of
energy too, and I always came right back. Always right back.

Her final act of defiance was to roll onto her stomach, trying to bury her
nose and mouth underneath her and against the van floor. It made it difficult
to shove the mask through, but even there I just pushed it along her cheek
and it forced her to turn the other way to avoid it. That was all she had
left to give. I rolled her over onto her back, just as I did back on her bed.
Staring down at her, I saw her eyes were glazed over and had lost almost all
of their focus. With no effort at all, I removed the makeshift gag-nightgown
and replaced it with the gasmask over her mouth and nose. Then, I pulled the
elastic strap over head to keep it in place. There was a soft pleading moan,
as if to let me know that she still wanted to struggle, but she just didn't
have anything left to give.

I adjusted the dosage down so she would go unconscious, but not drown in
the stuff. I also threw two blankets over her body so no one would know what
I had underneath and then I got back into the driver's seat. As I checked my
watch and compared it to the time before I stepped out of her doorway, less
than 20 minutes had passed and no cars came by. Of course, it was 4:15 in the
morning. I knew I wasn't out in the street more than a couple of minutes
which meant I'd spent more than the last 15 minutes rolling around the back
of my van with Chyna. Ain't that every teenager's fantasy!

I turned on some music and started the van up. Even if she wasn't out cold
yet, and I was convinced she was, the blanket would prevent her from seeing
anything and the music would prevent her from hearing anything on our little
journey. I knew that she wouldn't know where she was once we got there, and I
had now made sure she wouldn't even know how she got there either. She'd seen
my face, but I planned for that to happen soon anyways so no big deal there.
Yeah, I made a couple of mistakes on this trip, but we're still talking a
score of 97% out of 100 where anything past 75% is considered fantastic. In
fact, everything had gone as close to perfect as I had any right to hope for.

I turned the engine on, pulled the van out of park and started to drive.
Looking down at my watch for a moment, I smiled to myself. We'd be at the
lair in no time.

To be continued...

Support by joining for only $4.95
Shannen Doherty Fakes     |     Annika Sorenstam Fakes     |     Vanessa Angel Fakes     |     Women of Wrestling Fakes