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Authoress' note: Thank you all so much for the reviews and comments! This is meant to be an intersection of story and sex, with "real" and meaningful characters, both "on-screen" and "backstage". Think of this like an episodic multimedia show, kind of like if WWE seamlessly blended Raw or Smackdown with Total Divas and a "reality" show backstage. It's not always going to be all wrestling, all the time. Yes, I'm smashing kayfabe with the "reality" stuff, while holding on to it with the "in the ring" and "on-camera" stuff. Nobody ever accused me of consistency. This is "using wrestling to tell kinky stories" rather than "wrestling as a kink itself" - but I'm going to weave a lot of kinks and wrestling in with the story, I promise.

Kink Warning ? watersports, pee-drinking, lactation, and incest-couples ? sisters as well as mother-daughter ? and shemale and herm characters are all going to be featured going forward. If you can handle those, I'll think about going kinkier. ¦

Bright light blares into the bedroom, bathing everything in warm radiance. It's the next morning, and I'm busy trying to wish it away when a pair of lips press against mine. Cinnamon-toothpaste-breath tingles my nostrils. "Nnnnnhhh," I complain, blinking up into Jess' blue-gray eyes.

"Come on, get up, Vanquished Vixen," she sits back and teases, tearing the covers from my naked body. The sunlight warms my pale skin ? I can almost feel it peeling, cracking, and charring. This isn't a vampire novel, but I'm probably the closest thing to one you'll find in this fictional universe: I stay up late, hate mornings, and the sunlight hates me ? just look at all the freckles! I even drink bodily fluids ? just, not blood - and for fun, not sustenance. Her hands shove on my side, "Let's go, Ness! We'll be late for work!"

Light barges in through my cracked eyelids. I blink a few more times. My mouth's dry, and there's a faint stretchy ache in my asshole. Faint salty and coppery flavors vie for dominance on my tongue ? what did we do la... oh, that's right.

Let's pause a moment. You're here for the sexings, I know. Can we maybe just do a "last night" montage for now as an appetizer? It's really too early for this, and montages are a thing now, right? Ok.

Cue Sabrina Carpenter ? "Almost Love". No. That's too slow. Um, Bea Miller - "S.L.U.T."? It's not bad but... let me pick through my YouTube music list. OH! PERFECT! AC/DC - "Thunderstruck", but covered by a bunch of hillbillies with a drumset, banjo, ukulele (? I think that's what that is), bass, and accordion. YES! That's perfect!

¦ So Denny's. The food does in fact taste like haggis ? or what I imagine haggis tasting like. Fiona's there, too. The little Scottish herm's sitting across from Jess and I ? Fi is literally tiny. Nobody ever believes that she's 22, despite having two photo IDs: a driver's license and Scottish passport with an E3 visa. Partly it's her style: cute t-shirts paired with a skirt or shorts, tube socks that vary between calf-high and thigh high, and sneakers. Always sneakers. You might get Fiona into a nice dress for a special occasion ? but you won't get her out of sneakers. Mostly it's just her: she's 4'9" and 90lbs, if you put a 5lb weight in her pocket, and has bright flame-red hair that's usually in twin ponytails; sparkling blue eyes and an oval elfin face that ends in a sharp-pointed chin complete the picture. She's tiny and gorgeous and has the most amazingly pornstar-ish cock on such a small frame. I heard that record scratch ? yes, she's a herm. Cock