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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 *quot;real*quot; and meaningful characters, both *quot;on-screen*quot; and *quot;backstage*quot;. Think of this like an episodic multimedia show, kind of like if WWE seamlessly blended Raw or Smackdown with Total Divas and a *quot;reality*quot; show backstage. It's not always going to be all wrestling, all the time. Yes, I'm smashing kayfabe with the *quot;reality*quot; stuff, while holding on to it with the *quot;in the ring*quot; and *quot;on-camera*quot; stuff. Nobody ever accused me of consistency. This is *quot;using wrestling to tell kinky stories*quot; rather than *quot;wrestling as a kink itself*quot; - 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. *quot;Nnnnnhhh,*quot; I complain, blinking up into Jess' blue-gray eyes.

*quot;Come on, get up, Vanquished Vixen,*quot; 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, *quot;Let's go, Ness! We'll be late for work!*quot;

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 *quot;last night*quot; montage for now as an appetizer? It's really too early for this, and montages are a thing now, right? Ok.

Cue Sabrina Carpenter ? *quot;Almost Love*quot;. No. That's too slow. Um, Bea Miller - *quot;S.L.U.T.*quot;? It's not bad but... let me pick through my YouTube music list. OH! PERFECT! AC/DC - *quot;Thunderstruck*quot;, 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*quot; 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