On the stormy, torrential night before The Art of War, something drastic changed in the relationship of Chris Extreme and Morgana. During the aftermath of losing the NEW World Title -- which he had affectionately dubbed 'Precious' -- Chris realized that he needed his long-time girlfriend emotionally, not just sexually, to achieve happiness. Morgana, on the same night, decided that her affections and loyalty ultimately belonged to Chris, and placed upon him after a blind date opened her eyes to the love they shared. However, could such newfound love and passion survive after Morgana won The Art of War Royal Rumble, accidentally eliminating Chris and defeating Kyle Rayner to win number one contendership to the NEW World Championship?

"Oh god, Chris, that feels good."

I guess so.

"Did I say you could speak?" Chris snapped as he pulled away from his girlfriend, struggling to make his deep voice sound stern. The couple lay tangled sensuously together on the silken blue sheets atop their king-size bed, Chris pressed down on top of Morgana. He wore only a pair of black silk boxers, his muscular body pinning Morgana's lithe, curvaceous one to the bed. Morgy herself was clad merely in an extremely tight beige corset with black lace embellishments, her large breasts pushed high by the form-fitting material that barely covered her thong-covered crotch. She wore black, knee-high fishnet stockings attached to racy black garters, with black, high-heeled stilettos on her petite feet. The creamy, tanned skin of her toned thighs was marred by thin pink and white welts that hinted she had been recently... punished.

"No, master," she giggled, unable to keep a straight face. "You're too good at this whole dominance thing. I think you've done it before; I'm going to have welts for days." Chris ignored her, bringing his lips to her smooth neck and kissing the soft flesh almost possessively. He sucked gently at her neck, nibbling it softly at first with his teeth, the pressure gradually increasing. Morgy moaned loudly, biting her bottom lip to contain it but unable to, feeling a familiar pang of longing between her legs.

"Chris, that feels so good," she sighed, her breath raspy and shallow. Chris pulled away from her, a domineering gleam evident in his icy blue eyes.

"I told you to be quiet. You're a bad girl, Morgy... I think you need to be punished again."

"I do," Morgy was quick to agree, a satisfied smile curving onto her full lips. She slowly ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, surreptitiously urging Chris to do his worst. Acknowledging Morgy's silent challenge, Chris rose up on his knees, seizing Morgy's much smaller wrists in his hands and pulling her up forcibly. Chris sat on the edge of the bed, twisting Morgy's wrists behind her back and causing her to squeal in a mixture of pain and delight as he flung her onto his lap. She landed in his lap, facing down at the plush, blue-carpeted floor, her long, dark hair touching the floor in thick, dangling locks. Morgy's crotch, stomach, and breasts were draped across Chris's lap, exposing her fully to him. Her breathing rapidly increased in anticipation, preparing herself for the first blow.

Chris raised his arm, bringing it down hard on Morgy's ass. A stab of pain shot up her legs and she felt the air rush from her lungs, blinding stars swimming in front of her eyes. Yet, amid the pain was the well-known longing for the next blow, and the craving for more punishment. Chris drew his hand back again, spanking Morgy harder, his large palm hitting her upper thigh as she moaned and writhed against him, shamelessly grinding her hips against his legs. Again and again he hit her, not so much as to actually hurt her as to put her in her place -- which she so badly needed and wanted. Panting heavily, Morgy twisted in Chris's lap, raising her hips to meet his hand, only to have them slammed back down by the force of his swift slaps.

Morgy struggled away from Chris, her ass and thighs burning and stinging from his smart slaps. She stumbled to her feet, throwing her arms around Chris's neck and imploring him with small, begging kisses on his lips. Hungrily he pushed his tongue into her mouth, caressing hers as he placed his hands on the small of her back, forcing her to sit and straddle him. Almost greedily his hands snaked up her back, trailing around to cup her breasts firmly. Morgy sucked very softly at Chris's lower lip, pulsing it teasingly with her tongue -- before brutally biting down, causing him to flinch in astonishment. Morgy drew her mouth away from Chris's, casting a satisfied smirk at the thin trail of blood coursing from his bottom lip. Chris offered his girlfriend the most sadistic of smiles before bringing his hands to her hair, lightly fingering the velvety strands. Morgy seemed almost shocked by the sudden tenderness -- before Chris seized her hair roughly, wrapping it around his hand. Pulling Morgy violently to her feet by the hair, Chris flung her onto the bed, and she landed hard on the tangled sheets.

Morgy smothered a shriek of surprise as her back slammed against the ornate mahogany headboard of the bed, dull pain coursing up her sides. She struggled to slide off the bed, but Chris was already rummaging through the nightstand beside her. Morgy slowly turned her head, her vision sluggish, barely comprehending that Chris had produced two small, silver pairs of handcuffs from the top compartment of the night stand. Thin beams of moonlight shafted in through the slightly parted black curtains covering the window, illuminating Morgy's small form as she slumped against the bed. The oddly beautiful silver stream provided the only light in the room, causing most objects not in direct path of the window to appear dark and obscured. Like all other rooms in the infamous white mansion of Chris Extreme and Morgana, their master bedroom was ridiculously large. Morgy could barely make out paintings on the walls, her vanity table mere feet away, or the entertainment system. All she could see was Chris bathed in the luminosity of the moon, an ethereal quality enchanting him as he apprehended her left wrist, then her right, chaining them to the best posts with the handcuffs. The cold metal bit into the sensitive flesh, but she didn't dare cry out or complain -- she couldn't, for now Chris was shoving a black satin scarf into her mouth, tying it around her head and retraining her tongue to act as a gag.

In his right hand Chris clutched a large leather cat o' nine tails whip -- Morgy's own whip, which she had imported from the sex shop she and Adora shared. Chris noticed the obvious recognition in Morgy's eyes, smiling almost cruelly as he tested the whip's nine tails on his arm. Each small leather section left a bright red line across his arm, and Morgy tensed in expectation. With a quick snap of his wrist, Chris brought the nine individual strands of the whip down on Morgy's thighs. Bright red lashes bloomed immediately on her tender skin, a perfect criss-cross of pain portrayed on her thighs. He hovered over her like a sentinel bringing both torment and fruition, a combination she had been trained to find irresistible.

Chris ran the tips of the whip up Morgy's legs achingly slowly, striking the tips of it across her legs. Moaning loudly against her gag, Morgy arched her back, almost urging Chris to hit her again. The whip struck her ass, aggravating the welts already formed there, and she arched her back higher brazenly.

To her utter surprise, the next blow never came. Morgy fell back against the bed, her legs trembling and her body glistening with perspiration. She sighed submissively, longing for relief, the sexual tension mounted within her unbearable. The room was eerily silent but for her own heavy breathing. A cloud had slipped over the moon, drowning the light and making the room totally dark.

"Chris?" she struggled to say against her gag. She heard nothing, and was vaguely aware of the scorching sensation of her welts. Suddenly, she felt the thin material of her black thong ripped from her body, and the thick handle of the cat o' nine tails whip was slid forcefully into her cunt.

Morgy uttered a high pitched squeal as the handle slipped inside her, filling her completely. A thin stream of hot fluid slid down the inside of her thigh, and Chris slowly began to pump the whip handle inside her. It didn't hurt so much as it made her painfully aware of his control over her, and almost unconsciously she began to rock her hips to match the motion of the whip. She strained against the handcuffs, the metal scraping along her skin and leaving faint scratches on her wrists, the gag in her mouth doing almost nothing to silence her increasingly loud moans.

The whip handle was forced violently into her, then pulled back and stabbed into her again. An intense feeling of pleasure grew as the slippery handle struck against her g-spot repeatedly, causing her to half scream, half cry out against the gag. She closed her eyes as she came, vaguely hissing out Chris's name before collapsing against the bed, crying softly.

Chris was quickly to remove the whip from her, laying by her side and showering her face with comforting kisses. Her gentle sobbing gradually faded as he kissed her tears over and over again, and she lay on the bed shaking.

"Are you okay?" Chris whispered, obviously very concerned. Morgy giggled, sniffing quietly.

"Of course. That was so hot, you twisted fuck." Chris laughed and sat up, searching for the keys to the handcuffs in the nightstand. The digital clock by the bed read merely 11:58 P.M., the vibrant red numbers contrasting heavily with the darkness of the room.

From somewhere within the room, the faint jingle of a cell phone ring could be heard, and considering that the ringtone was Sailor Moon's Moonlight Denetsu, it was easily recognized as Morgy's.

"For fuck's sake," she groaned, still chained to the bed. Chris ran for the phone, turning on lamps as he went, finding it in her purse, which had been discarded carelessly on the floor.

"If that's Adora, don't yell at her," Morgy pleaded. Chris didn't reply but picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he asked. He was silent for a moment, his face contorting in aggitation.

"What do you mean, Katie Winter is in the house for an interview? What does she do, stalk us? Jesus Christ." Silence.

"And mother always told me, be careful who you love -- be careful what you do, because that love becomes a drug, ah hey!~" Morgy sang to herself, unconcerned over the impending arrival of Katie. Chris hung up the phone, muttering under his breath and moving quickly back to Morgy.

"That was the butler calling. He just let Katie Winter in, so she is going to be here in a few minutes. I guess we have to get dressed and stuff." He unlocked the handcuffs, shoving them back into the night table.

"What's your ruuush, sweetheart?" Morgy asked, bouncing off the bed and drawing to her full height. She stood before Chris, slowly running her hand down his muscular chest, which she was barely at eye level with. She tilted her head up and smiled charmingly before dropping to her knees. "There's seven floors to this house -- it'll take her half an hour at least to get up here if she's by herself."

"Whoa!" Chris exclaimed as Morgy began to tug at the hem of his boxers with her teeth, grinning devilishly as she did so.

"KNOCK KNOCK!" the obnoxious voice of Katie Winter interrupted quite suddenly as she burst into the master bedroom, followed by a camera crew. She stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing Chris and Morgy in front of her, the camera crew almost bumping into her.

"A maid showed us to the elevator to save time. Now I wish we'd taken the long route." She smirked, her bright pink lips contrasting with her wan complexion. Morgy climbed to her feet, clearly annoyed. Ignoring katie, she ventured across the room and into the master bath, snatching a pink silk robe for herself and a black one for Chris. Katie snickered as the couple slipped them on, tapping the heel of her high-heeled sandals on the carpetted floor, smoothing the lines of her short white skirt. She looked Morgy over disapprovingly, noting her tousled hair and tear streaked cheeks, but said nothing. Instead, she motioned for the camera crew to begin filming.

"I'm here in the much talked about mansion of Chris Extreme and Morgana," Katie began, sounding eerily like a news broadcaster, "with the infamous couple. Chris Extreme, Morgana, last week you participated in the Art of War Royal Rumble, which Morgy was proclaimed as the victor. Have things changed in your relationship because of this?"

Morgy looked up at Chris before replying, smiling softly.

"I'd say things have changed for the better, Katie. The Art of War was the most incredible night of my wrestling career; not only did I outlast every member in the rumble, I was the first and only woman to do so. It was just Kyle Rayner and I in the ring at the very end, and I was incredibly exhausted, but I still somehow managed to eliminate the son of a bitch."

"With Chris's help," Katie pointed out, allowing her gaze to wander longingly to the expensive furniture in the room.

"Yeah, I did have a little bit of help -- so what? At least I have someone who loves me, unlike Kyle, who'll die a lonely, bitter man. Maybe if he wasn't such a fucking reject he'd have had someone to help him too, but we can't all be so lucky to have statues erected in your honour by the man who loves you."

"That's fucking creepy," Katie muttered, fingering the strap of her cropped black halter top.

"Is not!~" Morgy insisted, throwing her arms around Chris and clinging to his side. "It's sweet, damn it! Chris was happy for me for winning, so don't try to ruin it for us, you filthy skank."

"Yeah, whatever," Katie relented. "Since you're clearly so talkative tonight and see no shame in forcing your opinion on others like a scary Jehovah's Witness, do you have any early thoughts about One King?"

Morgy tucked a lock of her tangled hair behind her ear, chewing thoughtfully on her full bottom lip.

"You know," she answered honestly, "I haven't really thought about it. It's a month away, and although I have a World Title shot, I haven't really let it bother me. If I end up winning the title, it'll be for totally selfless reasons -- I just want Chris to have to precious, that's all. I haven't been here long, so having an opportunity to gain the World Title so soon is quite shocking. Even better, the world gets a preview of One King Queen at Breakout."

"That they do," Katie agreed. "As you know, you, Chris, and Corey Ashton are being teamed to fight against Kyle Rayner, Andrew Ashton, and Adam Cameron. While I know you and Chris enjoy working together, you've been pitted against Corey Ashton and Andrew Ashton as a team before and come out on top. How does it feel to be working with a man who you've defeated in the past?"

"Horrible," Morgy deadpanned, sighing in irritation. "Chris and I have already exposed the weaknesses of the Ashtons, and somehow we're still put against them almost every week. Now we have to team with Corey Ashton? This is ridiculous. There's an unfairness in this that makes me want to shred my own face, but I'm sure I'll deal with it. After all, as much as I can't stand Corey Ashton, my dislike of him pales in comparison to my hatred of Kyle Rayner."

"You and Kyle Rayner have quite a feud going on," Katie commented. "And I'm sure that after you eliminated him from the rumble with the help of Chris, he's going to be more than a little pissed off."

"True, but do I fucking care? I worked my ass off to win that rumble, and my hard work paid off. Kyle can be a bitter, whiny bitch all he wants, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm getting a title shot at One King and he isn't. He may have beaten me in a one-on-one match, but I won where it really mattered -- at the Art of War, where my fate was sealed. I have the opportunity to be the second woman to win the NEW World Championship (<33333 wifey!~), while Kyle can only say that a woman half his size soundly kicked his ass. How piteous for Kyle -- what a blow to his career! Many depicted him as someone who simply could not be beaten, but I proved them wrong. My record with Kyle is now 1-1 -- and I have a feeling that that's going to change after Breakout."

"Are you that confident?" Katie inquired, batting her sooty eyes.

"Why shouldn't I be? I've learned that Kyle Rayner is nothing to be feared. He's just a man, a pathetic, beatable man with all these agendas I couldn't give a damn about. If Kyle thinks that he's going to have me eliminated in this match up, he's sadly mistaken. I've already proven myself as a worthy competitor in elimination-style matches, and nothing can hold me back anymore."

"You make a good point," Katie replied, eyeing the tousled sheets on the king-size bed behind the couple with blatant distaste. "Andrew Ashton is also in the match. At The Art of War, Andrew faced Adam Cameron for the World Title, much as you will at One King. You and Chris have already battled and defeated Andrew Ashton when he teamed with Corey Ashton, so do you see him as a problem?"

"If by 'problem' you mean that I don't ever think about him or care at all, then yes, yes I do. I'd love to see how they work together after the beating Adam gave Andrew, because I know that I'd personally be a little pissed off. Yeah, I know they shook hands and were all sportsmanlike after the match and whatnot, but if there isn't at least some hostility there, then I'll be a bit surprised. At any rate, Andrew and Corey will most likely be going at it like rabid dogs anyway, so it's not like I even have to worry. Hopefully they'll tear eachother apart, and that will be the end of it."

"That would certainly make it easy for you," Katie commented, shifting her eyes between the couple. They looked oddly happy, with Morgy still practically glued to Chris's side as he idly stroked her hair. It almost unnerved her, but she said nothing.

"That it would, Katie, that it would -- plus, it would allow me to focus on Adam Cameron. You know, ever since joining NEW again, I've been involved with Adam a lot. He stole my child, for Christ's sake -- I had to. Now I have the chance at One King to dethrone him as the NEW World Champion, and loyal fans would get an opportunity to preview that tonight. I obviously know that Adam is an extremely talented opponent, but I also know that I am, too -- so I'm not worried. I clearly have the ability to win against him, for otherwise I couldn't have come out on top in the rumble. After managing not to be eliminated throughout the entire hazardous ordeal, I'll finally get the ultimate chance to shine at One King. But One King is a month away, however -- Breakout is in mere hours. In hours, Chris, Corey, and myself will be put against Kyle, Andrew, and Adam, and all hell will break loose. Revenge fantasies will finally be enacted, competitors will be eliminated... and much like The Art of War, someone will come out on top and claim a victory. As unpredictable as elimination matches are, our team has the clear advantage; Chris and I are the most powerful force in wrestling today, and with talent like Corey Ashton on our side, we could very well be momentarily invincible."

"Invincible?" Katie repeated skeptically.

"Well, I did say momentarily!~ My point is, this match is nothing new. We've defeated, outsmarted, and slaughtered these people before, and putting them together merely makes this an amusing spectacle of sorts. They're like animals put on display for the cheap thrills of drunk circus-goers, and we are their ring masters -- we control them, and we decide when the show is over. And guess what, Katie?"

"...It's over?" Katie contributed half-heartedly.

"My, you're a smart one! Kindly leave my home, so I can return to giving my boyfriend the most mind-blowing blowjob he's ever received."

"That's sick!" Katie screeched, shuddering at the suggestive leers passed between Morgy and Chris.

"Sick? I see nothing sick about it," Morgy snapped. Ever so slowly she turned, fingering the whip that Chris had left on the bed. She faced Katie again, the most innocent of gazes upon her exotic face.

"Are you into bondage, Katie?" she asked, snapping the nine tailed whip against the floor. Katie's eyes widened, her mouth agape.

"N-no, I'm not! I can't stand pain." She nervously backed away from Morgy, who advanced menacingly toward her. Chris snickered to himself as Morgy flicked her wrists hard and caught Katie across her bare, toned stomach with the whip. All nine tails struck her, leaving ghastly welts to form on the smooth, tanned skin. A blood curdling scream erupted from Katie's slender throat, and she stumbled backward, almost careening into a camera man. Morgy cackled loudly as Katie and her crew ran for the door, slamming it behind them.

"Now," she continued, her voice throaty and seductive as she sauntered to Chris, "where were we?"