Soda: Champion Futanari Sex Wrestler (Wrestling/pain/futa+f/cuckolding/futa+m)

There was no way she won all of those other fights legitimately. This 5'9" woman, maybe 140 lbs, had managed to defeat the best wrestlers in the world without so much as breaking a sweat, using a flurry of special moves that would be incredibly illegal in any other wrestling league. Even Big John Johnson, a hulking seven foot monstrosity that looked more bear than man was under her boot by the end of the match. Even the Terror Twins, a pair of the most ruthless cutthroats in all of professional wrestling ended their match between her thighs in what must have been the biggest two versus one upset of all time.

Some say she had mystical powers, mainly because there was no way a woman of that stature would even have a chance against men like that. There was another reason, though - it was the fact that, between her thighs, she housed what was measured as the biggest, thickest, longest cock ever to be written into human history. This monstrosity, nearly two feet long and as thick as a wine bottle, was her weapon of choice in defeating her enemies. with a pair of balls that would make apples jealous, she created a slew of crazy meanuevers impossible for anyone but her; her devices of her victory, and no one ever saw them coming.

But, deep down, I knew I could win.

See, I was no ordinary man. Unlike those fools in the pro-wrestling ranks, I was a trained black belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, a prize-winning boxer, and an undefeated MMA champion. THis match was mainly a publicity stunt assembled by my manager, after a million requests online for the two undefeated to "fight." While in my waiting room, though, I figured it would be the easiest fight of my life. Pro wrestling isn't real. It's fixed. And since nobody has come in and told me how to throw the fight, I assumed that I'd be the winner here.

My girlfriend, Janna, was sitting by my side as I stretched out in the green room. She was really just some girl I thought would be an easy pick-up one night, but she was so much more when I got to know her. We hadn't been together long, but it was good. She loved watching me get ready for a fight, mostly because I was huge and ripped - big, strong arms, a chiseled set of abs, and a chin that would make some girls cream themselves on the spot. ANd luckily, tonight, since this WAS the SWF, I was going to give them all a show by putting on a Speedo.

"Oh...I'm gonna have to take this, sweetie." she said as she picked up her phone and ran outside. She was going to miss the beginning of the fight, but oh well. She didn't really believe in fighting anyway, she thought it was all some machismo testosterone overload - but hey, she loved the results of my training.

The door opened, and a man in a tuxedo motioned for me to come with him. As he walked, he explained the rules of sex wrestling to me: 1. Any body part is fair game (which worked to my benefit, seeing as I could just choke her out) 2. The first person to orgasm was the decided loser. 3. The loser must endure the "victory celebration." Odd rules, but whatever, since there was no chance I was going to lose. The man in the tuxedo looked at me, gave me a strange look of shame and disbelief, and wished me the best of luck.

When I was brought out, there was a strange silence over the crowd. I'm normally used to quite a ruckus upon anyone entering the arena, but I guess this is a different sort of place anyway. In fact, the only thing I could hear was a little squelching sound and some heavy breathing, probably because over the top of the wrestling mat they use, there are a slew of microphones to pick up every slam and insult for the crowd. As I walked up, though, I finally saw her - though her back was to me.

Soda had jet black hair with bleached tips, cut in a pixie cut so that people couldn't use her hair against her in a fight. Her skin was a dark mocha colored, with obvious tan lines running down her shoulders and to her back. Those shoulders were strong and just a bit broad for a woman, trailing down to her wrestling outfit - a bright pink sports bra, and nothing more. As my eyes trailed down to her slim, toned waist, I noticed that her signature pink boy-shorts weren't ar

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