Title: Dirty Addiction
Disclaimer: I don't own any superstars or divas, they are all property of Vince McMahon and the WWE.
Summary: He was her drug, an addiction she just couldn't fight.
Stratusfaction guaranteed doesn't even begin to tell the story of Trish Stratus. When people look at the tiny blonde bombshell all they see is beauty and brains. They see a hard working young woman whose come a long way and earned her right to be record holding Women's Champion. Soft and fluff, the kind of woman young girls could look up to. She didn't carry on affairs in the locker room or have an ego. She was friends with everyone, and everyone loved her. To some Trish Stratus was angel, but he knew different. Trish was beautiful and talented. She liked to smile and sign autographs. She loved her fans and her life, but he was her escape. He knew how to bring out the woman inside. The woman who swears and drinks. The woman who liked to be taken charge of and held down. To everyone else in the WWE Trish was untouchable, but to him she tainted. No one else could touch her. She was the light among the filth. In front of the cameras and fans she was perfect and primped. Not a hair out of place or make up smudged. But late at night, she was wild.
She liked to be tied up and smacked. She liked to be called dirty things and scratch. Trish Stratus was a wildcat behind closed doors, and she was all his. It didn't matter that she never spoke a word to him during the day, or vowed a million times that it was over. But just like clock work she always came back. There wasn't much talking involved, just as long as she got what she wanted. It didn't matter that he treated her like a slut. She was his slut, and nothing would ever change that. Over the years in this business he'd been fined, slapped, and ignored for his disgusting treatment of women, but Trish thrived on it. She was perfection, but with him she was free. She was taken and used. Fucked out of her mind, and she could forget. He was her drug, an addiction she couldn't fight. And tonight would be no different.
RAW had gone off the air hours ago, and the hotel bar had emptied. Drunk superstars had staggered off to their rooms, leaving this hotel quiet. He'd long since drank himself into oblivion, and pissed off a concierge or two. He'd danced with every beautiful ring rat he could find, and received one of the best blow jobs of his life. Courtesy of a silicon enhanced brunette with a pair of Angelina Jolie lips. The sexy young woman had one of the best mouths and bodies he'd seen in a while, but it had ended so soon. Of course the bitch had had a boyfriend at the bar, and he'd almost had his ass handed to him. But it wasn't unusual for that incident to happen, so he always viewed it as an appetizer.
"The best is yet to come." He scoffed at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was somewhere around four am, but he was just now getting out the shower. His muscled tanned body dripping water all over the place. His own reflection told him it was enough to make any girl drool. The young man knew he was sexy and played it to the best of advantage. He'd been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for the last ten minutes, pretending not to hear the person moving around inside the room. He knew it was her. Just like clock work, she snuck into his room and probably his bed. His mouth began to water at the thought of what she might be wearing tonight. Maybe it would be the red teddy. Or the purple thong. Maybe nothing at all if he had his way. He smirked at himself once more in the mirror, and wrapped the hotel towel around his waist. It wasn't very secure, riding low on his hips. It really didn't matter, because it wouldn't be there long. He smiled once more at the man in the mirror and flung the door open. The room was dark except for the light of one candle burning on the bedside table. It smells like vanilla and ginger, but the smell he focuses on most is hers. She always smells like lilacs, and tonight is no difference. Her flowing blonde mane is the first thing he spots, as the rest of her body is hidden beneath the comforter. There's no sound, at least not yet. There's never any need for words. Just get what they want and nothing more. The towel falls from his waist as he kneels down to the bed. She turns over slowly, her hazel eyes blazing. The blonde bombshell knows what she wants. And he's more than willing to give it to her. Reaching for her wrists roughly, he pinned her down to the mattress. God she was a great kisser, he realized with pleasure, and he fell on her at once, driving his tongue into her mouth with an intensity that made him long for more to come. He ground his body into her with the same intensity and gripped her wrists tighter. She purred lowly in pain, but the feel of his erection set her writing so that the fell from the bed to the floor. He fell on top of her, but as suddenly as he'd fallen he moved. He withdrew his mouth from hers and roughly began sampling the rest of her beautiful tanned skin. Licking her face, neck, ears, and biting at her nipples was driving her wild. The Canadian diva was writing uncontrollably beneath him. He smiled with satisfaction. Slowly, he reached for her hair and yanked her back onto the mattress by it. She yelped, but didn't put up a fight. He threw her roughly onto the mattress and stood over her menacingly.
"Good slut. Now beg for it." He growled at her. Trish just stared up at him with those hazel eyes. For a moment, he saw a look of disgust in her eyes, but it was gone just as quickly. He tried to remember that this is what she wanted. With renewed vigor the blonde woman smiled.
"Please..." It was a purr from her lips, and he couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed the condom off of the side table. Tearing the package open, he seated himself quickly. Within in the moment he was inside her willing body. His movements were erratic, and Trish was screaming. He reached up covering her mouth, and felt her teeth bite into his flesh. He kept his movements harder and harder, feel her nails scratch his back. It would leave marks in the morning, but he could always blame it on a ring rat. The young man continued to roughly enter her with so much force she was sliding across the bed.
His back was bleeding from the scratches. Her wrists were turning black and blue from how tight he'd been holding them, but they couldn't stop. It felt like nothing he'd ever felt before. He had complete control of her, and she was his. He went over the edge at the same moment she did. Collapsing on top of the blonde, he found he couldn't move. No orgasm in his life had been that powerful. They lay there for a long time, and he eventually dozed.
He awoke a while later to find himself alone in bed. The alarm clock read ten am, and the blonde bombshell was no where to be found. But it really was no suprise. Trish never stayed all night. It would taint the image in the light of day. She was perfection, and the night would be forgotten. There would be more autographs and cameras. She'd slap on that smile and kick ass. Because she was true Stratusfaction. But once it turned dark,she'd follow her addiction. That addictio always led her right back into his hands. She could never beat the addiction. It was dirty and wrong. Just what she needed, and Randy Orton was more than willing to keep being her supplier.
Well I'm back at it again. I know this story is a little darker than my last one, but it came into my head after watching Cruel Intentions. Now this story has nothing to do with the movie, but obsession and addiction seemed like a good idea. So I hope my fans enjoy this and please review. I promise to update soon.