Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

September, 2017

***

Busy, busy, busy! Regular, everyday people struggle with the “workaholic” mindset, that idiosyncratic obsession with keeping occupied. Some fill their schedules with various activities and hobbies. Others spend their days on the grind, tirelessly working for one reason or another. Naturally, when you're the biggest pop-superstar in the world, you rarely find time for anything but the latter.

Such is the case for Ariana Grande, large by name but not in stature. The petite pop and R&B princess’s schedule was hectic and grueling, especially during world tours. Days, weeks….MONTHS of performing every night, sleeping on buses that drive up and down the road until it was time to catch a flight to the next country or continent and do it all over again. Brutal, well and truly brutal. But, tours weren't meant to last forever, and luckily, little Ari found herself at the end of her most recent.

Finally, after months of living on the road, Ariana found her latest string of concerts coming to a close. What began in Los Angeles and spun off to Tokyo and London and everywhere in between now brought Grande to Orlando, Florida, the final stop of her Dangerous Woman Tour. At long last, she'd get some well-deserved time off. Ariana couldn't wait! She was so excited, she even asked her agent to book her the fanciest, most expensive hotel room in the city.

Before long, Ariana's performance had come to an end. A beyond capacity-crowd inside the Amway Center chanted and cheered before, during, and after the three sets that Ari graciously sang for her adoring fans. She gave the performance of a lifetime, a maximum effort show, so when all was said and done, she felt absolutely no shame in grabbing her things, rushing out of the arena, hopping into a limousine, and booking it to the hotel. Unfortunately, Ariana left so quickly, she didn't even bother to tell her agent, or any of her security team for that matter.

Ari didn't get too far before her phone started to ring, her agent’s name “Jen” lighting up the screen. With a sigh, Ariana answered the phone.

“Ugh, what do you want, Jen?” Ari opened the conversation, her bad attitude soaking every syllable.

“Sorry to bother you, Miss Grande…I know you hate it when I call you…” Jen apologized on the other side of the phone.

Ari sighed again and groaned, “So why do it?”

“It's just…” Jen began to explain. “I know you were looking forward to that alone time now that the tour is over. But…I kinda set up a meet and greet for you. Please don't be mad.”

Jen was a bit concerned, as several long seconds passed before her boss finally responded. Naturally, her concern proved more than justified.

“You did WHAT, Jen!?”

“I just, you know…kinda, sorta set-up a meet and greet for you,” Jen answered weakly.

“Well, I don't care. Tell them I'm sick or something! There's no fucking way I'm doing it!” Ariana cockily assured, taking a sip of wine straight from the bottle, one of the many luxuries of being a multi-millionaire who can afford to ride in limos.

“It pays $100,000,” Jen revealed, forcing Ari to spit out her sip, the wine spraying the mirroring seats.

“One-hundred grand for one little appearance? And I don't even have to sing, right? Who the fuck would pay that much?”

“Umm…” Jen stammered, seemingly attempting to pick her words very carefully. “I was told not to tell you. They wanted it to remain a secret but, I can say that it's just one person, and I've already taken the proper precautions to ensure that you'll be safe around them, too. There's just…uh, a few little caveats.”

“Like?” Ari cautiously asked, taking a few more swigs.

“Like the meeting is tonight. And also like it's happening inside of your hotel room,” Jen revealed to another round of coarse silence.

“Jen, I'm gonna stress this next question as much as HUMANLY possible. Did you, and I mean seriously, DID YOU… book me an escort gig? ‘Cause if you did, you're fired!”

“No, no, I swear! Just somebody with the means and the money to make a one-on-one with you happen, I promise!” Jen scrambled to a chorus of unenthused Ari noises before adding, “Please don't fire me again.”

“I'm gonna have to rethink our contract, Jen. This is fucking ridiculous!” Ari snapped, once again going to town on the bottle in her hand.

“I know, I'm sorry, Miss Grande. I just thought-”

“You know what, Jen? I don't pay you think! I pay you to do all of the shit I'm too talented to do!”

“I'm sorry, Miss Grande,” Jen apologized again.

“Whatever. You're just lucky that this little meeting you set up pays well,” Ari dismissed before asking, “When should I expect this whoever the fuck, anyway?”

“If the timing is right, it should be shortly after you arrive at the hotel room. I wasn't given an exact time. I would just be ready, Miss Grande,” Jen recommended.

Ariana took another drink from the bottle and assured, “Oh, I'll be ready alright,” and promptly hung up the phone.

*****

Sure enough, hardly ten minutes had passed following Ariana's arrival at the hotel before she received a call from the front desk, asking if she was “expecting company”, a standard practice when dealing with a star the magnitude of the biggest pop idol in the United States. For the first time ever, Ariana had to admit that she was, and was quickly assured that her “guest” would be up momentarily. Luckily, the alcohol she'd consumed on the ride over and during the wait helped calm her nerves considerably. Considering her small frame, it also brought her a lot closer to her limit than she would've liked to be, though it hardly mattered when the inevitable fat or ugly or old dude came waltzing up in just a few moments.

That being said, wearing the same outfit she performed in earlier still irked Miss Grande, anyway. The outfit in question was a long-sleeved, jet black top, matching belt and impossibly short skirt, so miniscule in length that it managed to leave a pretty sizable amount of her delicious thighs visible, despite the fact that her leather boots came well above her knees, and lastly, a pearl-diamond combo necklace. Naturally, to top off her attire, Ari’s hair was done-up in her signature high ponytail. Though it bothered her that she couldn't change, she knew it wouldn't matter to whoever sludged their way up to that door. They were paying very, very good money to meet their Goddess; hell, at least she was giving them a genuine Ariana outfit, she could've been wearing sweats.

Momentarily evolved into another ten minutes of wining as Ariana waited for her guest to knock. Ten whole minutes, enough for The Pop Princess to down another quarter-bottle. By the time that knock finally came, Ari was as loosey-goosey as it gets, a little tipsy to say the least but, ultimately, in a far better mood than she had been before. At least, until she heard the sound:

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Three knocks in succession; her guest had arrived.

Ariana, bottle-in-hand, made her way to the door. She took another swig before setting the bottle down on a nearby console table before sighing, throwing on her “famous” face, and opening the door. Though, much to her surprise, Ari’s guest wasn't exactly who or what she'd been expecting. In place of the fat, old, goblin Grande was anticipating was a woman. A very pretty blonde woman, though Ari would hardly suggest the mystery woman was as pretty as she was. That being said, she was much taller and far more muscular than Ariana, herself. Also notable was the woman's attire, far more casual than Ariana, a simple blue mini-dress and, of course, matching Air Jordan 13 Retro sneakers. Peculiar though, was what she held in her hand. A white briefcase with gold trim that read “Money in the Bank”.

With a bright, bold smile, the mystery woman said, “Hi, Ariana. Nice to meet you. I assume you've been expecting me?”

Stunned, Ariana replied, “Well, I was certainly expecting somebody.” Ari threw on the fakest warm smile she could muster, though it was obvious to her guest that The Pop Princess was quite surprised.

“You weren't exactly expecting me, were you?” The briefcase-bearing woman asked and Ari nodded in agreement, stepping aside and disingenuously welcoming her guest in. “Yeah, I'll bet. Considering the type of people I see at shows and in airports begging for autographs, I can basically picture the exact fanboy you were anticipating.”

Ari furrowed her brows. “Shows?”

Those questions lead to her guest doing a little brow-furrowing of her own. “Yeah, shows. I do them all the time,” She responded.

“What are you, some kind of model or something?” Ari asked, still unsure of who the woman was or what she did, but it was quite clear that those were apparently details she should've already known.

“Well thank you, but no. I mean…it should be quite obvious,” the woman said, holding up her briefcase, still failing to ring a bell. It was only when the woman pointed to the big logo emblazoned on the corner of the case did Ariana begin to piece the puzzle together.

“WWE? Oh, you must be one of those wrestlers…cool,” Ari tried her best to sound enthused but, honestly, it was hard. Wrestling was far from cool, and, let's face it, the wrestlers themselves weren't half as talented as the diminutive diva. Have they ever sold out stadiums single-handedly? Could they do consecutive triple encores in a row? Didn't think so.

“I am…I'm honestly a little surprised. You really don't recognize me?”

“Sorry,” Ari tried to make the apology sound genuine but, again, what was she really apologizing for? For not knowing who this nobody is? Get real.

Nevertheless, the “nobody” in question looked quite upset as she finally introduced herself. “Well, I'm Carmella. I'm relatively new but I'm makin’ some waves. Only been on the main shows for about a year now, but pretty soon, this little baby right here's gonna take me all the way to the top,” The woman, WWE's moon-walkin’, trash-talkin’ Princess of Staten Island Carmella assured, patting her briefcase.

“That's funny. I would've assumed that all that case was good for is holding my money. Some of it, at least,” Ariana slyly remarked as she traveled over to the kitchen, shooting out a quick, “Would you like a drink?”

Mella agreed, finding her way over to the couch before explaining, “The real value of this briefcase isn't what it can hold, but instead what I can exchange it for. Any time I want, anywhere I want it, I can get a championship match of my choosing.”

Ari returned with two glasses in hand, both filled with red wine. She passed one to Carmella and kept one for herself, naturally refusing to hesitate in sipping her own as Money Mella did the same. After another drink, Ariana asked, “A championship match? Is that like…something exciting? Or important?”

Carmella looked back at The Dangerous Woman with confusion; obviously to those in her profession, very few things were bigger than a chance to become a world champion. “Well yeah. Being a champ in WWE is huge. We get to represent the company. We make more money, and I love money! There's a bunch of other benefits, too.”

Ariana still wasn't sold.

“I can see that but…it's all fake, right? So does winning actually mean anything?”

Immediately, Carmella's tone changed. Ari kept sipping from her cup, completely oblivious to the dramatically different mood her guest developed. That was, until Mella stayed a little too silent for a little too long, turning an already awkward conversation even more sour.

Looking to cut the tension, Ari changed the subject, asking, “So, Carmella, was it? You must be a big fan, yeah? Were you at the concert tonight? I was great, right?”

“I was, and I'll admit that you were. But I'm not,” Mella stated bluntly, setting her glass down.

With a confused look adorning her immaculate visage, Ariana asked, “Not what?”

Mella shrugged and admitted, “Not a fan.”

“Of who? Me?” Ari asked with a giggle. “Haha…um, how could that be possible?”

“I'm not sure what you mean by that,” Mella informed, now just as confused as Grande.

“Well…let's say, by some weird, unexplainable phenomena that you, by chance, were the only person on Earth that doesn't love me. Why would you spend $100 grand to meet me? That's an awful lot of money from someone like you.”

Officially, Carmella looked offended.

“Someone like me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Mella snapped, standing up as she went off, showing every bit of that New York fire burning deep within her soul. “I'm a fuckin’ millionaire, hun. A hundred grand is chump change to Money Mella, capiche? I get paid very well to do what I do!”

“Fake fighting pays that well, huh?” Ari chirped, only furthering Carmella's fury; for someone so pint-sized, The Pop Princess sure did have a mouth on her. Perhaps it was just the wine talking, or maybe she really believed that The Staten Island Stunner was all bark and no bite. Either way, Mella was and very much is money, and nobody who said or thought otherwise would go unpunished.

“Ain't shit about what I do is fake, sweetie! That's a guarantee!”

“Yeah, sure. C'mon, you don't have to keep up the charade with me, you know? I'm not some little girl in the crowd. I know it's fake,” Ari assured, even standing up to prove that no matter how certain Carmella was, she wasn't backing down. Of course, physical confrontation wasn't exactly Ariana Grande’s element. All five measly feet of her looked small and pathetic next to Money Mella, even if her high-heeled boots brought them eye to eye. Ironically, she looked just like the little girl she'd described, and Carmella looked like a grown woman.

Ariana stood her ground, even as Mella drew in closer, getting right in her face. “Do you really think what I do is fake?” Mella asked, no doubt a loaded question that a loaded Ari couldn't help but answer improperly.

“I do,” Ariana answered honestly. “Sorry not sorry.”

Mella grinned an annoyed, sadistic expression as she suggested, “Would you like to test that theory?”

The definition of liquid confidence, Ari agreed, “Sure, why not?”, and began swaggering over to an empty, furniture-free spot. “Try one of those ‘real’ ‘techniques’ of yours.”

Carmella, at this point, couldn't help but roll her eyes at the bratty popstar. But at this point, you may as well humor the little bitch, right? Especially since Mella knew she wouldn't feel so confident when the inevitable occurs. Money Mella strutted her Jordans over to Ari, who cockily waited, her hands firmly on her hips for maximum sassiness.

“Go on, try it. Either I'm right and it's fake and I can get out, or you're right and I'll be trapped! Only one way to find out. So, go ahead, tough girl! Beat me up!” Ariana coaxed, so ballsy and so confident that she even dared to stick her arm out as a means to tempt the “supposed” fighter. Anything to prove herself right, especially under the influence, with her stubborn dial turned up past its peak. And truthfully, Mella should've stayed professional, should've taken another route to get to her end goal. To cash-in on the REAL reason why she'd drop $100,000 on a meet-and-greet with a popstar she's not particularly fond of musically. But, she didn't. Instead, she took the little bitch up on her offer.

Carmella seized Ari's tiny arm, hooking it and sneaking behind to apply a chicken wing hold. Ariana flopped and flailed, but it did little to help; she was, quite obviously, far too weak to fight out of Mella's grip. Lucky for her, Carmella wasn't exactly the most qualified WWE Superstar to be defending the company's honor with the application of her hold, nor was she really trying to hurt the popstar, either. Just enough to rough her up and teach her a lesson.

“C'mon, brat! Get out of it! I'm so fake, right? Wrestlers are fake, so you can definitely get out, right, bitch?” Carmella suggested, increasing the pressure a bit and, simultaneously forcing little Ari to struggle even more.

“Ugh…you bitch!” Ari groaned, pulling and shoving to no avail. Nothing worked, no matter how hard she tried. Even after she gave up the struggle and instead tried a cheap shot, an elbow to Carmella's side, she couldn’t escape, The Fabulous One adjusting her grip to block the attack and lock up that arm, as well.

With both arms hooked, Ariana Grande was truly out of options, a fact Carmella was keen on reminding her prey. “You know, I could do whatever I want to you right now? And guess what? There's not a damn thing you can do about it.”

“Ahh…so what?” Ariana foolishly asked, returning to her tried and true struggling and flailing. “S-Still doesn't prove anything!”

“No?” Mella asked, tightening her grip, relishing the sound of Ari squealing in pain.

“Ah- no!”

“Well, you're just a stubborn little thing, aren't you, Ari? Perhaps we should do something about that?” Mella suggested and, with that, began walking them back over to the couch. Maintaining her lock of both of Ariana's arms and upon arriving at the couch, Mella turned and sat, proceeding then to pull Grande down, laying her across her lap.

“W-Wait, what are you doing?” Ariana asked, worried, but her question fell on relatively deaf ears. Instead, Mella decided to take the conversation in a different direction.

“You know, Ari…ever since I've got here, you've been nothing but rude to me. You've offended me a number of ways but of course, insulting my profession? My livelihood? Well…that just takes the fuckin' cake, doesn't it, sweetie?”

“W-Well I'm sorry, okay? Is that w-what you want t-to hear?” Ariana squealed, but it was too late.

“It's certainly a start. But, words aren't how I'm going to make you apologize to me.”

“Huh?”

Carmella smiled and revealed, “You've been a real bitch, Ariana. So I'm gonna show you what I do to little bitches like you in my locker room when they fuckin' cross the most FABULOUS chick in WWE!” With that, Mella let one of Ari’s arms free, but as you can imagine, her torment was far from over. In fact, it was only just beginning.

To keep the bitch in line, Mella kept her other arm compromised, and with a free hand, now had access to the apple of her eye, the reason why she'd drop so much cheddar to meet Ariana Grande in the first place. Ari’s free hand flailed, but nothing could stop Mella from reaching over and pulling that short leather skirt up, revealing that tight little butt, unfortunately covered up by the same material as her shirt; apparently, it was a body suit.

Material or not, bare or otherwise, that didn't stop Mella from slapping that perky little peach as hard as physically possible. Her hand crashed down with the force of a thousand crackheads, sending shockwaves of pain throughout Ari’s tiny body, the popstar using that magical voice of hers not to sing or harmonize, but to squeal and scream.

“Oww! What the fuck…did you just…did you just spank me?” Ari asked, reaching back to rub her ass with her free hand, only to have it shoved aside so Carmella could slap that booty again.

“Wow, aren't you bright?” Mella sarcastically remarked. “I don't know, did it feel like I spanked you, Ari?”

Wincing, Ariana replied, “Well…yeah?!”

“Like this, right?” Mella asked, slapping that butt again, reveling in the hollers of the prime, pompous popstar.

“Oww-you bitch! Stop doing that!” Ariana demanded, but her defiance only earned her another vicious slap. And another. And another.

“Oh, Ari. You'll do good to learn that I'm the one giving orders around here, not you.” Mella assured, opting to slowly caress that booty for a brief change of pace.

Ariana worriedly looked back, trembling as she asked, “Wh-What do you mean?”

“Where I come from…in my ‘fake sport’, us girls do more than fight,” Carmella began, squeezing and groping that cute butt. “There's a hierarchy, with tops and bottoms and switches in-between.”

“Like a…like a lesbian…sex…thing? That's sick!” Ariana argued, but Carmella smacked that little peach again, silencing the sassy soprano, allowing The Fabulous Diva to finish her explanation.

“Yes, exactly like that. These?” Mella informed, emphasizing by groping and jiggling Ari's butt cheek. “Girl butts? Titles are important, but in women's wrestling, claiming another girl's ass is the ultimate prize. We make bets on the matches, ass for ass. Some girls belong to others. Some tops even form alliances with each other. It's a pretty in-depth system.”

Unable to stop her bottom lip from quivering as a result of the pain, Ariana groaned, “Sounds ridiculous.” Of course, that trademark sass from the bratty superstar only earned her another smack to that famously-tight, tanned rump, Carmella's strong hand clattering into her cheek with incredible force.

“Nooooo. It sounds like your future, Ari.”

“H-Huh?” Ariana asked cautiously.

THWACK!!!

Ari screamed and hollered in pain as Mella elaborated. “Oh, you can't put two and two together, can you? I guess I'll spell it out for you. I paid a hundred grand to bring me as close as possible to this cute little butt of yours.”

“No! No…this is wrong! You can't do this!” Ariana argued, struggling in Mella's lap again, but to no avail, her squirming only leading to another harsh smack to that butt.

Carmella grinned as she caressed away the stinging pain she'd just caused. “Why not? What's so wrong about teaching an overrated little brat a lesson?”

“Hold on…what did you just say?!” Ariana snapped. “I know Goddamn well you didn't just call ME overrated. You better watch your fucking-OWW!!!”

“No, bitch, you watch your fuckin' mouth when you talk to your Money Mistress!”

“My…Money…what?”

SMACK!!!

“I'm gonna teach you some manners, Ariana. I mean, somebody's gotta do it, right?” Carmella suggested, to which Ariana immediately replied, “No!”

“Well, agree to disagree. You think you're God's gift to this world-”

“I am-OWW FUCK!” Ari interrupted, only to be interrupted herself by another harsh smack to her delicious butt.

“Stop fuckin' interrupting me, whore! That's the last time I'm gonna tell you! Is that clear?” Carmella asked, then, when Ari stayed silent, Mella slapped Grande's booty again and reiterated, “I said: is that clear?”

“Yeah, okay? It's clear!” Ari whined.

“Say, ‘Yes, I understand, my Money Mistress’.” Carmella ordered, only for Ariana to stubbornly go quiet again, earning her another spanking for her deeds.

“Okay, okay…fine. I understand, my Money Mistress,” Ari finally succumbed, doing so with a whimper.

Carmella smiled, “Good girl! Good little Pop-Bitch! See, that wasn't so hard, was it?”

Bracing for the inevitable impact, Ariana squeaked out, “Maybe not for someone like you.” But much to her surprise, another smack didn't come. Instead, delayed by several seconds, was a sharp tug on Ariana's trademark ponytail, jolting America's most-famous face backwards forcefully, a pain that easily rivaled and possibly surpassed that of the spanking.

Mella tightened Grande's hair around her hand as she clarified, “Let's get one thing clear, Pop-Bitch: Money Mella lays down for noooooBODY. I don't take orders and I sure as fuck don't call any other skank “Mistress”. I'm the baddest bitch on the block, and ever since I got to WWE, I've been workin’ my way up, collecting asses one by one. There's a dozen girls in my locker room who'd kill to be in your shoes right now.”

Ariana desperately wanted to spit out another bratty one-liner in response to the fact that a dozen or more women in WWE would want to be her; she could probably think of a few hundred million more girls that wished the same thing, be it because of her looks, money, or talent, but not Carmella. But, this time, Ariana kept her sass to herself, mostly because the strain on her neck made it hard to breathe, let alone speak. This time, Ariana kept her mouth shut, allowing Carmella to continue.

“You're a lucky girl, Ariana. Beyond your wealth and fame, you've been given the privilege of calling me your Money Mistress. But with that privilege comes the task of learning how to be my bitch….” Finally, Mella released her stranglehold on Ari’s ponytail, The Dangerous Woman's head falling back to a more natural position.

“This…isn't right…you won't….get away with this….” Ariana squealed, now that she was free to do so.

“But I haven't done anything wrong yet,” Carmella argued, smacking Ariana's cute butt again. “I mean, unless you count the part where you dared me to put you in a wrestling hold. I mean, there's nothing illegal about that, nor is there for giving a naughty little brat a spanking? Right or wrong?”

Ari wouldn't dare admit it, but there was some sense to Mella's twisted logic. Truth, too. Between the two of them, Ari was far more intoxicated, and it was in that stupor that she practically begged Carmella to prove how real pro wrestling actually can be. She may be more rich and famous than Carmella, but she'd need an even better lawyer than already on the payroll to back her alibi.

“It's wrong, you…know it's wrong,” Ari repeated, earning herself another smack in response. But, this one didn't come alone. A volley this time, a never-ending volley, it seemed. One after another, each one crashing into her butt with as much force as the last. Left cheek, right cheek, the spanking wasn't bare so at times it was difficult to tell, though it hardly mattered. Carmella wasn't aiming, just destroying. And poor, helpless Ariana was feeling the effects.

Obviously she couldn't see it and, sadly, neither could Carmella, but the damage had been done. And everytime Mella's strong hand crashed into that tight little bottom, the pain grew more intense, the sting more acute. It wasn't long before Ariana couldn't take it anymore; until the tears began to fall down her eyes. Both from pain…and from pleasure.

When the flurry finally finished, Mella jumped back to massaging away the pain, but couldn't help but take note of the pop-star's pathetic whimpering. “Aww, what's wrong, Ari?” Carmella asked somewhat sympathetically, though the redundancy of her question did little to help ease the young superstar's troubles.

“W…What do you…. think?” Ari cried in response, hanging her head and wincing, the pain overwhelming.

“You want to know what I think?” Mella asked, yet another redundant question, this one failing to receive an answer. “I think you're an even better actress than you are a singer.”

Confused, Ariana asked with a sniffle, “Huh? Actress?”

“Yeah, Pop-Bitch. You're putting on one hell of show, pretending that you don't love every second of this punishment,” Mella revealed and, immediately, the Nickelodeon alum felt her cheeks begin to blush. Her face cheeks, not her ass cheeks, which had to have already been bright pink as it was.

“No way! W-Would I be crying if I liked it? It fucking hurts!” Ari assured with another sniffle.

“Oh, that's part of it for you, I'm sure. Trust me, babe, I know a pain slut when I see one,” Carmella confidently re-assured, and despite the fact that Ariana knew otherwise, she continued to play coy.

“Nuh-uh!” Grande childishly denied, no doubt the liquor coming into play again.

“No, huh? Well, then…” Carmella asked, moving her hand down to Ariana’s crotch, immediately feeling a dampness. “What's this?”

“It's not true! It's not true!” Ariana foolishly denied again.

“Oh, it couldn't be more true, Ari. Lie all you want, because your body will always tell Mama Mella the truth. And the truth is, your pussy is soaking wet,” Carmella confidently declared, spanking that butt for the umpteenth time.

Sniffling, Ari whined, “God…this can't be happening!”

“Trust me, Pop-Bitch, it's happenin’! I've seen it enough to know when a bitch realizes that their true purpose is to serve. Naturally, someone as fuckin’ money as me has that effect on women, you know?” Mella bragged.

“Please, just shut up!” Ari begged but Mella ignored the request, instead offering another round of three vicious slaps, as well as another round of verbal humiliation.

“You know, spanking this butt is great, but I know a way to make it even better!” Carmella exclaimed
and, before Ari could even respond, The Money Mistress grabbed the bottom of Ari’s bodysuit and forcefully yanked as the material slowly ripped apart. Ari squirmed again, but it was no use; Mella used her other hand to keep the little bitch in place until the bodysuit was ripped, revealing The Pop Princess's beaten butt, still covered by a pair of sheer tights, though a hole was quickly ripped in those as well; transparent or not, bare meant bare, full-stop.

“Still wanna deny that you love the attention your ass is getting?” Mella asked again and, surprisingly, Ari stayed silent, Carmella simply laughing in response as she cocked her hand back again and slammed it down on Ariana's exposed butt.

Grande screamed in pain, the sting so much more intense than before; it wasn't much, but the bodysuit provided a crash site that wasn't skin-on-skin, at the very least. Without that, the tiniest of reprieves, Ariana was stuck in pure agony. Unending torture, each smack that followed turning the bright pink hue of her tan cheeks a darker, far more sinister shade of crimson. Agony, the type that continued to force tears down her face until, eventually, there seemed to be no tears left to cry. Complete, utter agnoy…mostly.

Painful? Yes, God, more than anything she'd ever felt before. So why? Why was her untouched pussy leaking like a broken faucet? She didn't like it…right? No, definitely not! Yet, no matter how much time passed, no matter how much punishment she was forced to endure, her pussy stayed wet, a fact that Mella couldn't help but poke fun at.

“Ya know,” Mella began, giggling to herself. “For someone who doesn't like getting spanked, you sure do get wet from it. I'm honestly a little shocked.”

Ari shook her head in denial again, but try as she might, there was no convincing a professional top like Carmella. She knew what she was looking at, what Ariana truly was. That tight little body told the whole story, her leaking cunt singing like a canary, revealing Grande’s guilty pleasure. Another thwack, another whimper from the world-class songstress, and the more her little pussy continued to pour out lust.

“Ooh, it just hurts soooo good, doesn't it, Ari?” Mella asked, barely even holding The Pop Princess down anymore; whether she realized it or not, Ariana was lying along Carmella's lap via her own free will. “My strong hand crashing into your little butt? It hurts, but the sting makes it so much hotter, doesn't it?”

“No!” Ariana denied again with a whimper.

“Aww, you're still playing that game? C'mon, Ari, keep it real with your Money Mistress. I'm not stupid, hun, okay? I know you desperately want me to keep spanking you,” Carmella assured, doing exactly as she claimed that Ari wanted, smacking that ass again. And while Ariana’s reaction would say anything but, the way her body was behaving continued to say otherwise, naturally coercing Mella to continue the punishment.

Not that anything in the world was gonna stop her from spanking that gorgeously perky little pair of cheeks anyway! No, nothing was gonna keep her hand away from Ari’s butt, at least until it was time to move on to bigger and better adventures. For now though, Money Mella's attention was that booty that Ari always loved flaunting around on stage, wearing the smallest, tightest of outfits to accentuate her already gorgeous assets.

To Mella, nothing could replace the feeling of smacking another woman's ass. The rush of adrenaline from putting a bitch in her place, the total control and domination of a weaker hoe that even got her own pussy a little moist in the process. Fucking asses…yeah, an obvious number one. But spanking exists in a separate, equally important stratosphere. And considering just who she was spanking this time around, this was one for the record books. Truly a Kodak moment.

Carmella, in her time, had brushed with some pretty big stars here and there. Some of the biggest stars in the basketball and football world during her cheerleading days, the litany of celebs always showing up to WWE shows and, of course, all of her fellow superstars, as well. But, she'd never really had a one-on-one with a star the magnitude of Ariana Grande.

THE Ariana Grande, laying across her lap, helpless as an endless barrage of slaps rained upon the Italian beauty’s plump peach, those cheeks jiggling as much and as often as physically possible. A sight to behold, one that Carmella put a lot of work and, obviously, spent a lot of money to make happen. And to think, she originally thought the idea unfeasible! Unrealistic!

Mella truly showed herself! Getting some alone time with Ari cost a lot of dough, no doubt, but arranging the little rendezvous was far easier than she first thought. As simple as getting in touch with Ariana's agent and seducing her into making it happen. A little “convincing” from The Money Mistress was all it took for Ari’s agent Jen to set the rendezvous up; the money was just a formality to make sure things weren't strange heading in, and also to give closure and reason to the meeting if things hadn't gone as planned.

But they did! Boy did they ever! Good? Yeah, but nobody could've ever suspected that anybody was THAT good! Yet, here she was, spanking the biggest popstar in the world and, unsurprisingly, itching to take things a step further. The end goal was obvious; Carmella just needed a little justification to bring it all to life. And luckily, she knew just how to get it.

THWACK! Another brutal lashing, peppering that bum, and another pathetic whimper from Ariana, who, if was to be believed, would give anything to make her torment stop. A theory that Carmella was intent on testing.

Rubbing the most-recently beaten cheek, Mella asked, “Still hurts, huh?”

“Yessss-duh!” Ariana cried out, her face nearly as red as her bum from embarrassment; she could feel her pussy juice leaking onto Mella's thigh.

“Aww, I know it does. So, I'm gonna give you a chance to make it all go away. How does that sound?” Mella offered, only to receive vitriol for her benevolence.

“What, are you finally gonna let me go?” Ariana sassily asked, fully aware that the reality of her question was unlikely.

“Oh, Ari, don't be ridiculous. You want that as much as I do. Which is, obviously, not at all!” Mella laughed off before explaining, “But, I'm willing to stop spanking you if you agree to do something else for me.”

Worried, Ariana cautiously asked, “What do you want?”

“Well, I WANT a lot of things, Ariana. But, right now I think I'm willing to settle for that hot little mouth of yours wrapped around my box. How does that sound?”

“What? No! NO WAY! I'M NOT A LESBIAN!” Ariana shouted, failing to comply and, naturally, earning another swat to her tiny tush for her deeds, immediately forcing her to pipe back down.

“Correction, Pop-Bitch. You're not a lesbian…yet! And that's because you haven't been with a woman like me…yet! Think of it as a learning opportunity, as well as a chance to end your suffering.”

Ariana stayed silent, her dark brown eyes piercing a hole through Carmella. She shouldn't be in this position! Not someone as rich, famous, talented, or pretty as her. At least, that's what Ari’s head was telling her. She still couldn't figure out why her body was reacting the way it was. Why her cunt was so wet and why her pert little nipples were as hard as a rock were both unexplainable, at least to her naked, unfamiliar eye.

“Think about it,” Carmella began before promptly slamming her hand down again, this time with even more force than even she knew she was capable of mustering before continuing, “Anything has to be better than this, right?”

“I…I don't know,” Ari stammered, obviously still unsure. Nevertheless, Carmella was set on beating her booty until The Pop Princess made up her mind. So another, and another, and another came, each one as strong as possible. Only then, after giving that prime, popular butt one-for, did Carmella offer a final ultimatum.

“How ‘bout this, Ari?” One more smack for good measure before explaining, “You eat me out until I cum. And if you don't enjoy it, I'll give you the money I owe you and walk away.”

“Y-You have it here?” Ari asked weakly.

“I've got a check right here in my case,” Mella assured, patting on her beloved Money in the Bank briefcase. “And, I'll even do you one better, just to make things a bit more fair. If you don't like the taste of my cunt, then I'll even let you do whatever you want to me before I go, if you wish. Spank me, hit me, whatever.”

“You'd really do that? No bullshit?” Ariana asked skeptically.

“Well, I don't see why not? So long as you're completely, 100% honest about your feelings towards my box, then I don't see a reason we can't make things even stevens between us. And anyways, I don't really think you want another scandal getting out after that little donut-licking incident a few years ago. So, if you really aren't interested, it'll be a good way to sweep all of this under the rug.”

Ari pouted and assured, “You know I'd kick your ass in the courtroom, right?” Naturally, Ariana's bratty attitude earned her yet another smack to that gorgeously tight bum, putting the uppity popstar back in place.

“Yeah, yeah, you're more rich and famous than me. Whoo-hoo for you, but let's not forget: I can do whatever I want to you right now, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it,” Mella reminded before scantily adding in, “Not that you'd want to, anyway.”

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you I don't like getting spanked!” Ari snapped, once again letting her own ego push her towards another brutal swat.

“Man, you don't know when to shut up and take an offer, do ya?” Mella asked, slightly annoyed.

“Maybe I'm just not happy about being forced into lesbian sex stuff? Have you ever thought of that?” Ariana argued in a tone that heavily suggested that if she was standing up, and not sprawled across Carmella's lap, she would've had a hand placed firmly on her hip.

Mella rolled her eyes and moved to plan c, groaning, “God you're irritating…I knew I should've just trusted my gut and went with Taylor.”

Suddenly, Ariana's tone changed. “Who?” She asked, furrowing her brows and, unsurprisingly, perking a small grin from The Money Mistress.

“Taylor Swift. When I decided to test myself as a top and tackle a big name celebrity, T-Swizzle was my first option. But…you were performing a little closer to home.”

Ari’s jaw dropped. When she finally managed to pick it back up, she questioned, “Wait, wait…hold-up! So, you're telling me, Ariana Grande, that I WASN'T your first choice? Ha, you're kidding, right? Like, there's no way you were possibly considering Tay-Tay over me, obviously. Because I'm way better than her. Prettier. Vocalist. All of it.” Suddenly, Ariana was annoyed, unknowingly playing right into Carmella's hand.

“Well, not from where I'm standing. I think you fall a little uh…short in a few categories,” Mella argued, hoping and succeeding in flaring up Ari’s ego even more by poking fun at The Pop Princess's petite stature. “For starters, every rumor I hear about Taylor involves her ass being put to use. From what I hear, she's Hollywood's go-to closet lesbian. You've heard those rumors, right?”

Ari begrudgingly nodded her head in agreement with the sourest of expressions. “I’m pretty sure they're more than just rumors.”

“Right, exactly my point. Yet, here you are, the prude of the party,” Mella poked before scoffing and adding, “Taylor would NEVER.”

“I'm not a prude!” Ari childishly denied. “I'm just not a lesbian! And if I was, I'd be way better than Taylor! I mean, I'm already way hotter, and a better singer.”

“Ah yes, the rule of thirds. Of course, it means nothing if you don't prove it,” Mella assured before suggesting, “You know, if Taylor were here, I bet she'd prove it. She'd show why she's always been pop’s number one star and not number two….”

Ariana's expression soured again before completely devolving as Mella poked, adding in, “Like you.”

The room fell silent for several awkward seconds while Ariana processed what she'd just been told, before finally breaking the stillness and, unsurprisingly, freaking out in the process. “WHAT!?” She shouted, aghast at the mere suggestion that someone, anyone other than her could be the #1 pop-star in the world. Even if, in reality, Tay and Ari were 1A and 1B when it came to topping the charts, in Grande's mind, there was only her, high atop her pedestal while everyone else existed on a plane below.

“Nope! I didn't hear that. There's no way I heard it, because nobody would ever say that Taylor fucking-failed-country-sensation Swift is better than me? Me?!” Ari ranted, her egotistical, alcohol-fueled mind somehow removed from the fact she was still very much in the spanking position across Carmella's lap. Though this time, The Princess of Staten Island didn't punish the uppity little bitch. Instead, she offered a single suggestion, a chance to test her theory.

“Then, prove it.”

Just like that, Ariana had fallen for Mella's trap, caught hook, line, and sinker.

“Alright, fine!” She begrudgingly agreed, finally succumbing to The Fabulous Diva's will. “But, you better keep up your end of the bargain. I don't need to get revenge or anything like that. Just give me my money and get the fuck out of my room.”

Mella smiled, finally removing her hands from Ari's body, allowing the singer to crawl out of her lap. “Ditto, Pop-Bitch. I'll keep mine, so long as you keep yours.”

“And you can stop calling me, Pop-Bitch! I mean, hello, I'm Ariana? I have range? I can dominate every genre if I want to! And regardless, you know my name, so use it, just like all of my loyal worshipers. Goddess Grande, Mommy Ari, either will do,” Ari commanded sternly as she found her way to her knees, officially kneeling before the fastest-rising top in WWE history.

“Oh, shut up and lick my cunt already…Pop-Bitch!” Carmella growled, spreading her legs to reveal a pair of silky black undergarments, inconveniently guarding her sexy bits. Nothing to be too bothered by though, Mella hiking up her tight mini-dress. “What are you waiting for? Get to work.”

Ari scowled, both from the double-demand and the mention of Mella's pet-name for her. “God, I can't wait to prove you wrong,” She proclaimed before removing what was left of her bodysuit and the bra that laid underneath, revealing her perky little boobs. The incredibly high-heeled, thigh high boots were next and, once they were gone, Ariana hesitantly reached forward, taking each side of Mella's thong into her hands and slowly pulling them down those smooth, toned legs, past her Air Jordans and, eventually, off her body completely, giving Grande her first, up close look at another woman's pussy.

Grande stopped and stared momentarily, a combination of cautious, nervous and, subconsciously, a little excited. But that hesitation didn't go unnoticed by The Money Mistress, who rolled her eyes and ordered, “Hurry up and eat already!” To help emphasize her words, Carmella adjusted her seating position, relaxing back, slouching so drastically that she was practically laying on the couch cushions, and removing the need for Ariana to lean forward. There, mere inches away from her pretty face, was Carmella’s womanhood, far wetter than it had any right to be.

Still, Ariana hesitated, stopping to look up into Carmella's eyes. Those peepers burned with a ferocity that silently reiterated her previous demand and thus, left Ariana with nowhere to go but straight. Straight into that box, and straight into the unknown world of lesbian sex. There's gotta be some reason why dabbling in girl-on-girl action is so popular nowadays, right? Why all those rumors about Taylor, among other girls, had become ubiquitous. As she took a deep breath and stuck out her tongue, Pop-Bitch was about to get answers to both of those questions.

Several tense seconds passed in between the moment where Ari readied herself and her tongue finally came in contact with Mella's cunt, The Princess taking her own sweet time to take in the experience before getting her first taste of feminine flavor. Allowing the aroma to waft, watching how that slit reacted the closer she got. And when she finally did press her tongue against that box and got that inaugural taste, unsurprisingly, the first didn't act as the last for very longue.

Immediately, Ariana's senses became overwhelmed, bombarded and brutalized by the combination of the pungent smell and sweet taste. It was unlike anything she'd ever tasted before. A strange, quaint flavor; Ari just had to get another sample. She licked Carmella’s cunt again, The Money Mistress letting out the softest of moans. Nope, she wasn't dreaming, the second lick confirmed it! Much to her own surprise, Ariana didn't find herself hating the taste of Mella's pussy.

Now, would Ari admit to liking the taste, or even claim to tolerate it? No, of course not! Because in her precious little intoxicated mind, only she, Goddess Grande, holy deity of all pophead simps, could possibly be right. And even though her body wasn't complying, Ariana's consciousness was still focused on getting Mella the fuck out of her hotel room ASAP.

Hell, maybe if everything goes right, she could still salvage a nice rest period with the remainder of her break from touring. Obviously wishful thinking, considering Ariana would probably find herself thinking about this night and Carmella’s revelation about the girls from WWE for quite some time, even if she managed to win their little wager. Which, at the moment, already looked out of her hands.

Without noticing, Ariana had continued to softly lick Carmella's cat, slowly lapping away as her mind wandered. It wasn't until The Staten Island Princess spoke up that Grande snapped out of her pussy-induced trance. “Mmmm-you like my pussy don't y-you, Ari?” A simple question which, thanks to that thick New York accent bringing Ariana back to her senses, she was able to answer.

Ari pulled her face from that mound long enough to fire back, “Nuh-uh,” before hampering her own point by returning from once she came.

“Ah…ah, that's not w-what your tongue says…” Mella poked, the pleasure really beginning to sink in. Though, any and all forms of bliss came second to the high Carmella got from the simple fact that Ariana Grande…Ariana fucking Grande of all people, was growing more and more comfortable with eating her pussy. The Grammy award-winning, chart-topping superstar reduced to nothing more than a progressively enthusiastic rug-munching bitch. Knowing that she, the most-money female superstar in all of WWE, made it happen? There was no greater feeling.

That was, of course, until later. Later, with Ari bent over, pulling those perfectly tight ass cheeks apart for Mama Mella. Taking that booty would be second to none but for now, feeling one of the world's most-famous mouths going to work was hard to top. Especially considering that with each passing second, Ari grew more comfortable with her task. More comfortable and, in turn, more enthusiastic. With that comfortability and enthusiasm came an increase in speed, as well, Ari flicking her tongue up, down, and all around Money Mella's pretty kitty and, unsurprisingly, eliciting a FABULOUS reaction, too.

“Mmmm….mmm-fuck, you're n-not really convincin’ me, bitch,” Carmella pointed out and, honestly, it was an extremely valid assessment. Would Ariana really be so eagerly and enthusiastically tonguing that cunt if she didn't like it? Well, she'd already come to terms with the fact that another woman's pussy wasn't completely repulsive, for starters. But that was right out of the gate. Several minutes later? It was getting way harder to deny. Strange? A little, for sure, and definitely unfamiliar, but Ariana really slotted into a groove the longer she stayed between Mella's legs. And while she still had her reservations, it hardly had an effect on her overall performance because, all things considered, Ariana was putting on an oral show!

The Pop and R&B Princess was showing her mouth was good for more than just singing. Ari proved to be a great little rug-muncher, especially considering that this was her first at-bat, per se. The first time she'd ever pleasured another woman before and, unsurprisingly, she was hitting it out of the park. Now, Carmella just needed her to admit that she was enjoying herself.

“Go on, Ari…tell me,” Carmella lustfully ordered, the pleasure seeping into each of her muscles and tendons. “Why fight it? Y-You know you l-love my cunt!”

Popping her head up from Mella's crotch, Ari begged, “Please, shut up,” before licking her lips and diving back in for more. Denying it failed to both help her case or stop Mella from pressing forward. Especially since her reply was hardly a denial at all. Rather, it was her chances of winning offering up one final gambit, one last, desperate plea for mercy. But Mella wasn't exactly keen on mercy…not with this bitch’s ass so close to her grasp.

“Tell you what, Pop-Bitch…admit you love it and…love making me feel sooooooo good, and I'll make y-you feel even better!”

Even better? Was that even possible? Carmella was already squirming like an earthworm, evidence that The Fabulous Diva was experiencing a great deal of pleasure as it was. Needless to say, Ariana wasn't exactly sold on the idea that Carmella was capable of providing an even greater wealth of bliss. But, she was definitely interested…even if it meant finally admitting defeat.

Pulling her head from that crotch, Ari begrudgingly confessed, “Alright, fine. I like it, okay?”

“Mmmm…do you, now?” Carmella purred, stroking Ari's hair as her heart pumped. “Say it again. I wanna hear Ariana Grande say she loves my pussy again.”

Ariana scowled and shook her head. “I didn't want to say it once, I'm not saying it again,” Grande assured. Carmella was sure that, in time, Ari would jump at the chance to say whatever her Money Mistress wanted to hear but, now wasn't that time. This “piece of meat” still needed a bit of seasoning and that was okay. In time.

“Have it your way,” Carmella conceded before shoving Ari's face back into her crotch. “Now hurry up and make me cum!”

Ariana struggled against Mella's will but, just like during the spanking, her defiance was useless; Carmella was just too strong. With nowhere else to go, Ari succumbed to the small but incessant desire to keep eating that cunt. What had Carmella said: “make her cum?” Ariana wasn't sure if there was an exact science when it came to doing that or not, but what she'd been doing before seemed to work pretty well. So, why not go back to the well? bringing other girls to climax. Actually, she wasn't even sure if she'd been eating Mella's pussy “correctly”. But, Carmella seemed to be reacting well enough before so, why not go back to what was working?

So, Ariana started flicking her tongue again, while sucking and slurping that cunt like a madwoman. That, combined with The Money Mistress grinding her crotch into Grande's face quickly took Mella from the brink to up and over the edge. A few staggered breaths and guttural moans and voila! Mella was cumming her brains out, those “brains” immediately soaking one of the most famous and recognizable faces the world over.

Immediately, Ariana backed away, startled by her first taste of girlcum; what hadn't stained her face forced its way into her mouth. Mella was too deep to keep Ari held down, meaning instead of powering through what easily could've been two or maybe even three orgasms from the little rug munching prodigy would only be one. One, lone orgasm. Damn shame but, if all goes according to plan, Ari's first time servicing her Money Mistress wouldn't be her last.

“Y-You're lucky…I…let you go,” Carmella threatened, her breaths still short and heavy as she came down from high.

“I'm not lucky at all!” Ariana argued, aggressively cleansing her gorgeous face with her forearm. “If I was, I wouldn't be stuck in this hell!”

“What…hell?”

Ariana rolled her eyes. “Is that a serious question? Obviously all of this lesbian sex shit!”

“You mean…the thing you admitted liking?” Carmella asked, Ariana immediately covering her mouth in shock. “Oh yeah, you forgot about that little detail, didn't cha, Pop-Bitch?”

“Stop calling me Pop-Bitch!” Ari spurted out.

“Shut up and answer the question, Pop-Bitch!” Carmella quickly dismissed, testing herself by stirring, beginning the slow process of rising to her feet, cute little Ariana still on her knees.

After thinking for a second, Grande rebutted, “How do you know I wasn't lying, huh?” A fair assessment; Carmella couldn't really be sure if Ariana was telling the truth or just saying whatever The Fabulous One wanted to hear. But, there was one little wrench that Ariana, unfortunately, was throwing into her own argument.

“That,” Carmella responded, pointing to the ground below her, directly where Ariana had been kneeling throughout her first oral experience. A stain on the white carpet floor, the accumulation of The Dangerous Woman's growing lust. “Oh, by the way, you dropped all your pussy juice on the floor.”

“That's not funny,” Ariana blushed, turning her head in shame.

“Hey, hey, don't worry,” Carmella consoled, drawing closer. “There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's natural for a weak little bitch like you to get all wet when worshiping a superior woman like me.”

“Huh? Weak? I'm…I'm not weak,” Ariana attempted to argue but, unfortunately, didn’t seem very convincing, especially since she was still facing away, refusing to look Mella in the eye. Mella, looking to fix that issue by dropping to her knees, seized Ari's face, turning it and forcing their eyes to meet.

“You mean, like when I locked you up and no matter how hard you squirmed, you couldn't break free? Or, maybe laying across my lap and getting that adorable little butt of yours spanked over and over was a sign of how strong you really are. That's it, right? Or, was it when I talked you into licking my cunt and, in turn, had you desperate for the same treatment?”

Ariana stayed silent. She didn't argue, she didn't fight back. Hell, Ari didn't even try to push Mella’s hand away from her money-maker. All facts that Carmella absolutely reveled in.

“Yeah, my mistake. You're not weak,” Mella sarcastically confirmed. “You're a strong little bitch. So, why don't you show me how strong…you…ARE!” Mella’s final line coincided with a rough shove that forced pop's princess onto her back. And, in turn, had her scrambling for answers as The Money Mistress looked primed to make a move.

“Wha…what are you doing?!” Ari asked cautiously, unable to stop Mella in any way, shape, or form.

“Oh relax, already, Ari. I'm just doing what we already agreed on,” Carmella confirmed, but Ari was still skeptical.

“And what was that?”

“The part where I promised to make you feel just as good as you made me feel? That whole thing we went through? Is your brain really full of THAT MUCH hot air?”

Ari blushed again; she couldn't believe she'd forgotten something that had only been discussed a few moments ago. But, at least she had an excuse. “No, I've just had a little too much to drink! That's all!”

“Yeesh! Thank God you're not a blonde, you'd be even dumber,” Mella joked, caressing Ari's smooth, tan legs, the pair of stems gorgeously toned from her years of dancing despite her petite stature.

“B-But you're blonde,” Ariana pointed out.

“Yes, but I'm not dumb, now am I?” Carmella argued.

“Well, neither am I!” Ariana argued back, leading The Money Mistress to burst out laughing, something that Grande didn't take kindly to. “What? I'm not dumb! Seriously, I'm not!”

“Ahh…oh, you're dumb, alright,” Mella assured, coming out of her short laughing fit and taking hold of Pop-Bitch’s legs. “If you weren't, you'd drop the act and fully submit to me, already. But, rest assured, my precious little Pop-Bitch…you'll understand your place soon enough. For now….”

Mella's words trailed as she lifted Ari’s legs high, keeping them spread and, most importantly, giving herself access to that superstar cunt. “Just sit back and let Money Mella work her magic, m’kay?”

Ariana rolled her eyes but, ultimately, obeyed and kept her mouth shut. After all, this promised to be the least punishing task of the night, a silver lining of the smallest regard for a completely straight woman but, a silver lining nonetheless. Whatever the case, whatever the result of Carmella's promise, getting eaten out couldn't possibly be worse than getting her butt spanked over and over. Nor could the act of giving feel better than receiving. Regardless, this promised to be the most fun Ariana had since this “meet and greet” began.

“Oh yeah,” Mella added, interrupting Ari’s thought process. “Try not to cum too quickly. Got it?”

Ariana nonchalantly nodded in agreement and thus, Mella was off, The Staten Island Princess diving face-first into that billion-dollar pussy, her mouth frothing from The Dangerous Woman's heavenly, feminine scent. The smell, so delicious…exactly what Carmella had pictured Ari's womanhood would smell like. As eager as she was to devour that tiny cunt, she couldn't help but take a second and “smell the roses” per se; she was about to go down on one of the hottest, most-famous girls in the Western hemisphere, might as well take her time and enjoy this first experience, even if Carmella was confident it wouldn't be the last.

But eventually, Carmella's thirst needed to be quenched. Eventually, The Money Mistress just HAD to know if Ari’s pretty little pop-star pussy tastes as good as it looks and smells. So, sitting idly by just wouldn't cut it; she couldn't deliver in her promise by just watching like an extra. Mella needed to get proactive.

Calmly at first; a sample of Ariana's flavor was necessary first. Just something small, a single lick along the sides of her beautiful, soaking folds as Carmella's head drew close, the feeling of Fabu-Mella’s cold, wet tongue forcing a shiver from Grande's body. Mostly skin, not enough snatch; Mella needed a bolder sample. So, another singular lick, but this time, directed closer to the center of that opening…scrumptious!

The taste? Divine! Carmella's tongue slithered along Ari's inner core again for verification and…yep! Fucking delicious! So, so, so FUCKING delicious! Another lick followed, this one a little longer, starting at the bottom and working towards the top; still delicious. So sweet, so delectable. Ari’s cunt was so tasty, Carmella couldn't help but compliment.

Showing true willpower by somehow managing to pull herself away from that crotch, Carmella lauded, “You've got THE best tasting snatch I've ever had, Pop-Bitch.” A simple tribute, but one that, for all of her brattiness and arrogance, Ariana couldn't help but take in kind. Naturally, it was a compliment she'd never received from another woman. Men, obviously, sure, but never another girl. It was kind of sweet.

“T-Thanks, I guess,” Ari responded, her heart still beating and her body still trembling nervously.

“Welcome,” Mella quickly dismissed, refocusing on the task at hand by lengthening her stay between Miss Grande's thighs. From there, the objective was simple: gobble up that pussy like filet mignon. Money Mella wasn't fine wine-tasting anymore; it was time to EAT! And eat she did, using her lips and tongue to the best of her ability which, considering Carmella's deity-esque topping skills, was a sight to behold.

Lapping away was merely the beginning, the appetizer course, if you will. Something simple to properly introduce Ari to the pleasures of girl-on-girl. But giving is far different than receiving, and considering Ariana was already wetter than any straight girl should be simply from getting her butt spanked and then eating out her first pussy, it wouldn't take much to push her to that next level. So, Mella didn’t dawdle long before rushing out the main course, showing that bulbous, pulsating clit its well-deserved attention after a bit of teasing.

Immediately, Ariana's body jolted back, a reaction that coincided with a single, soft moan falling from her famously-full lips. The first of many, that lonesome moan immediately forcing pop's new princess to cover her mouth in shock. But before long, simply sticking a hand over her maw wasn't enough to stop that lust-filled sounds from flowing. The moans kept coming, getting louder and louder as the pleasure doubled every time Carmella's talented little tongue rubbed and slapped Ari’s sensitive bud.

Ariana's arm, the last grasp of her denial, fell to her side. More shockwaves, more incredible pleasure the likes of which her body and mind had never experienced and then…it clicked. Mella's performance was, fittingly, money. And similarly, her guarantee was right on the money, the promise to bestow upon Ari a first-time lesbian experience like no other, and make her feel even better than she'd made Carmella feel, was a promise kept.

The way Carmella lapped at her cunt, switching from soft like a sweet lover to aggressive like a starving animal was addictive, only slightly outpaced by the rush of having her cute little clit teased. Ariana's mind was pacing, her heart was racing, and in that moment, as everything seemed to crescendo, she remembered what Carmella had demanded of her, and how she so foolishly dismissed it: “Try not to cum too quickly”.

But how could she have known?! How could anyone not experienced truly understand the latent ability of a world-beater like Carmella? Most importantly, one question persisted above all others: how could Ariana have been so stupid as to doubt someone so unabashedly confident? Again, maybe it was the drink, or maybe her own ego previously couldn't accept her own, natural inferiority to a gal like Mella. Either way, even in her mostly-drunken haze, Ariana was done doubting Carmella and getting proven wrong…almost. There was still one little quirk that Ariana was unsure about.

How the hell was she supposed to stop herself from cumming?! Seriously, how?! It all felt so incredible. Her knees were like jelly, and her mound, pouring out lust, was throbbing as The Dangerous Woman desperately tried to fight back and hold on, like Money Mella had instructed. But, it was no use. Much like in seemingly every other facet, Carmella was too much for the pop’s brightest star. But, luckily for little Ari, Carmella was also smarter than her, as well, and understood that complying with that demand was almost physically impossible for such an obvious bottom. Therefore, The Money Mistress had a back-up plan to keep her new pet-in-progress going. Though, it required a bit of “advanced set-up”.

Simply continuing as they were, Ariana would burst any moment, a fact that Carmella, in her infinite topping wisdom, was well-aware of. So, a change of strategy needed to be made, and not a simple switching of tactics, either. No, the entire focus of The Fabulous One's attack needed to shift…shift exactly to Carmella's end goal. The reason she dropped so much money on this vile “meet and greet”. So shift she did, Carmella plucking her tongue from that piquant pussy and, pushing Ari’s legs back even farther, set her sights on the untouched hole that sat just below.

“Wait-what are you doing?” Ariana whimpered, the sudden disappearance of Carmella's warthm scarily concerning. Mella ignored, leading Ari to continue whining, “Hold on…that's not-ohhh.”

A single lick to her puckered asshole was enough to silence the bratty sensation in an instant. Ari’s pussy throbbed and continued to leak sex but she survived, coming down from her high just in the nick of time. Just in time for Carmella to continue the assault from that new, strange avenue. Though still confused, Ariana didn't try to fight back, but she did make another inquiry.

“I-Is that…my ass?” Ariana asked, her voice shaky as the combination of this weird new feeling combined with the lingering aftereffects of her little snatch’s first oral experience.

No verbal response, Carmella instead licking Ari’s little butthole again for verification.

“W-Why are you…licking my ass?”

No response.

“Tell me why you're licking my ass!” Ariana demanded.

No response.

“Tell me-”

“Will you shut the fuck up already?!” Carmella snapped, shooting up from Ari’s crotch, her eyes glaring down on the Italian beauty. “I'm trynin’ to help ya out!”

“Help me how?” Ari squeaked out, the liquor forcing her brain to “ignore” the obvious.

Carmella rubbed her forehead to try and calm her irritations as she mentioned, “You were gonna cum, right?”

Ariana meekly and childishly shook her head.

“Don’t lie to your Money Mistress,” Carmella demanded.

“I never agreed to have a ‘Money Mistress’,” Ariana fired back, still unwilling to admit her inferiority as a woman verbally.

“You agreed to eat my pussy and liked it. Then, you agreed to let me eat yours and…surprise, you liked it. You've been following my orders all night, whether you want to admit it or not. Certainly sounds like you're my bitch, now doesn't it?”

Suddenly, it was Ariana staying silent.

“Oh, nothing else to say, little bitch? Well, if you need me, I’ll be down here, eating your booty,” Mella informed, pointing to the action zone. But as she lowered her head, Ariana squeaked out one last response, just before Mella could continue her oral assault.

“Why my ass? Please answer that.”

Carmella rolled her eyes and sighed, “Why not your ass?”

Again, maybe it was the wine but Ariana looked confused. So, Carmella explained, “Did you forget what I said about how we do things in my profession?”

“No,” Ariana answered cautiously. “But that doesn't mean you have to do…you know…THAT with me.”

“Oh, but doesn't it, Pop-Bitch?” Carmella questioned, her eyes lighting up as they gazed upon that gloriously beautiful asshole once again.

“B-But I've never done anal before,” Ariana pleaded, failing to realize that confirming such a fact, while already suspected, only created a hungrier predator.

“Well of course not. But you never ate pussy before and you liked that, didn't you?”

Ari blushed, initially avoiding the question but, naturally, Mella shot her a stern look, forcing the bratty little popstar to nod in agreement.

“And you never had this little pussy of yours eaten by another girl before, and you liked that too, right?”

“I guess,” Ari agreed unenthusiastically, still blushing a bright red.

“So, that settles it. You're always nervous about trying new things because…drum roll…you have bad judgement! But, it's your lucky day! Why? You know why, don't you, Ari?” Mella asked, her tone switching from the more aggressive that Ariana had come to expect to something a bit more cheerful.

“I think I've got an idea,” Ariana replied unenthusiastically, the overwhelming evidence that she was, indeed, now a lesbian not really sitting right quite yet.

“Right! If we're on the same page, and you're thinkin’ what I'm thinkin’, then we're both thinkin’ that you don't need judgment! No, no, no, Pop-Bitch, you don't need to worry your pretty little head about a thing! Why? Because I am here! Me! Your Money Mistress! And trust me, babe, I know what's best for you. I made you love gettin' spanked, whether you wanna admit it or not, I made you love serving your Mistress and, hell, I made you love gettin' repaid for that service.”

As annoying and “aggressively New York” as Carmella sounded, Ariana couldn't help but concede her points as valid. And thus, Ariana didn't interrupt Carmella as The Staten Island Princess promptly finished her assurances with one simple phrase: “So what makes you think things will be any different when I take your butthole?”

Ariana looked back at Carmella, genuinely thinking of legitimate reasons why things could occur differently or why she might not enjoy having her virgin ass put to use. Could it hurt? Of course. Was all of this ridiculously strange considering she'd only just met Carmella? Sure. But…Mella had a point! Ari had loved everything that Mella said she would. So, now that Carmella seemed more excited than ever, why should anal be any different? Why would it be any different? Why wouldn't she love it?

“I'll take your silence as vindication that I've made my point?” Carmella asked cockily and, again, Ariana weakly nodded in agreement. “Cool, so it's settled then. I'm gonna take your asshole, Ari. I'm gonna show you ALL of the sights, and in turn…you're gonna cum like a good little anal bitch for me ON MY COMMAND. Sound like a plan?”

Though hesitant, Ariana's instinctive reaction was to nod again.

“Good,” Carmella dismissed. “Now shut up and let me…let me eat this fucking ass already.” With her business settled and her mouth watering, Mella returned to the richest prize any top in WWE had ever witnessed. Ariana Grande’s tiny, cute, puckered-up virgin butthole, which Mella had given a few warm-up licks to, but that was hardly enough to accomplish anything.

Those introductory licks weren't enough for Carmella to really grasp the taste of that butt, nor were they enough to help loosen it for what was to come. And boy…what was to come? Only what would surely be one of, if not THE greatest conquest of Money Mella's topping career! Ah yes, little Ariana Grande, pop-superstar the world over, was within minutes of getting her butt, among the tightest and cutest on all of God's green, completely fucking wrecked! Well, stretched first, then wrecked, of course after being licked…it was a whole process.

Carmella, as experienced as she is when it comes to breaking in brand new butts, wanted to be extra careful when it came to Ari’s virgin peach. The Staten Island Princess had done everything right, to the absolute T, all in the name of breaking this beautiful brat's booty in and awarding it a permanent place in her collection. A prized piece, worth putting in the effort for; Carmella could and would lube up that oh-so tiny little backdoor when the time came but, for now, using her mouth to loosen it up was the move.

Thankfully, Carmella's tongue was just as skilled at navigating anal canals as it was scaling pussy walls, sloppily slithering around the rim, lathering every inch of that opening in her sweet saliva. Ari, much to her surprise, found her comfort level returning to the place it had been during the early stages of her rug-munching, making it even easier for Carmella to gradually take things further once she was ready. Naturally, that meant seeing if that unpopped cherry could accommodate an entry-level object. Mella, after several minutes of mindless licking, attempted to push her tongue into that gloriously tight behind. Surprise, surprise, her attempt was money!

So money, in fact, that a little push was all Ari needed to accept that slippery devil into her delicious rump, a soft whimper emanating from the diminutive diva's famous mouth. Much like having her pussy eaten, for Ariana, feeling something slip into her butthole was new and strange but far from uncomfortable. The soft, muscle-y tissue that makes up the human tongue is far from rigid, the perfect tool for getting a new, unused butthole familiar with accepting things. Naturally the pressure was slight, and in turn, Ariana handled it well.

Of course it helped that Money Mella was very good at directing traffic. The dozens of licks she delivered helped sliding into that little pipe a breeze, and made wiggling around inside of it just as easy. And, of course, now that she was properly inside, Carmella could truly gauge the taste of The Dangerous Woman's asshole. Oh, God! Oh, God, was it good!

Great! Fan-fucking-tastic! Divine, somehow better than her pussy, something that Mella struggled to believe was even possible for a few moments before she remembered her love for cute buttholes trumps all. Absolutely scrumptious, and Mella lapped away inside that endless supply, her hands gripping those adorable Little Debbie cakes for leverage, the pop-star’s legs still back behind her pony-tailed head. And Grande, completely folded up like a high-end sex doll, didn't complain.

She didn't whine, she didn't-well…she DID moan, quite a lot, actually. Softly and sweetly though, a sign of more to come, as far as Mella was concerned. And more she was ready to give; rummaging around inside that butt wasn't just fun for Ari, after all. Hell, Money Mella could've kept her tongue rammed up that booty for days and days and honestly, wouldn't get tired of it. Key word: could've.

As tempting as it was to endlessly rim the salacious songstress, Mella knew that eventually, she'd have to pry her face from that hole. She'd have to find the courage to move on to the main event. And that's not to say Carmella was scared to ruin Ariana's little bootyhole no, no; that butt was just so great munch on, it made the thought of spending even a single second away from it a scary one. But, Mella persisted. She found that courage and, once she felt Ariana's backdoor muscles were nice and soft, removed her tongue.

Noticing the sudden change, Ariana whimpered, “Wh…why did you stop?”

Licking her lips as she backed away, allowing Ariana's toned legs to flutter down to the floor, Carmella answered, “Because it's time, Pop-Bitch.”

“No,” Ari initially defied, her voice weak and cracking, so naturally, a stern look back from Mella made Grande adjust her stance to, “I don't know if I'm ready.”

“You're as ready as you'll ever be, sweetheart. Trust me. I've fucked more butts than you have hits and I swear, this little booty?” Carmella emphasized, playfully slapping Ari's thigh. “It's beggin’ for cock.” In typical Ariana Grande-fashion, the Grammy winner pouted, unable to argue with Carmella's vile claim, but also not willing to admit the truth, either.

“Aww, why the long face, Ari? Still pretending that you're hating the process of becoming my bitch?” Mella joked as she rose to her feet.

Ariana childishly shook her head in response.

“So, what is it?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Ariana suggested sheepishly, and when Carmella looked confused, she explained, “It’s gonna hurt, duh? Not really something I'm looking forward to.”

Carmella sighed the hardiest of sighs. “Oh, here we go again! I already told you, I know what the fuck I'm doin’! Did you forget the part where I explained that?”

“No. But I'm still worried,” Ariana whined, her words still blatantly slurred.

“And I'm supposed to care about that…why, exactly?” Carmella fired back, her voice trailing as she disappeared into the room. Naturally, Mella's dismissive response didn't leave Ariana much room to work with, so she reverted back to pouting silently, leaving the floor to her Money Mistress-to-be.

“Listen, Pop-Bitch,” Mella began. “I've had just about enough of you doubting my abilities. I am your Money Mistress, whether you're smart or sober enough to admit it!” Carmella's words were brash and cocky, but spoken with a confidence that made them aggressively believable.

Returning before Ariana, Money in the Bank briefcase in-hand, Carmella continued, “I am Money Mella, God's gift to bottoms and buttholes, okay, hun? You're little butthole’s gonna have no problem fallin’ in love with my cock, I promise!”

Ariana furrowed her brows. “Cock? Wait, wait-hold on a second! I'm…no way I can be THAT drunk…”

“Oh, you're not,” Carmella confirmed, patting her briefcase as she explained, “My cock is of the artificial variety. Which is fine, naturally, because I guarantee it'll be WAY bigger and WAY better than any little shrimp dick you've had before.”

“I don't know how a fake dick can beat the real thing,” Ariana challenged, shrugging. “Especially some of the guys I've been with.”

Carmella tilted her head back and forth, pretending to concede that Ari had made a “good” point. “Well…let's just say that things work a bit differently when it's your asshole being put to use.” Mella dropped to a knee, set the case down and opened it.

Out of the briefcase came several items. First, a bottle of lube, no doubt for Ariana's virgin butthole, and black, leather harness followed, both items being sat on the floor beside the case as Mella freed both hands for the third and final item. Ari's eyes were immediately drawn to it as the slick, pink rubber exited the darkness of Mella's, WWE-branded briefcase. Her hands, far bigger than Ari’s own, struggled to contain its length and girth, nearly dropping the popstar's jaw in the process, and that was before Mella revealed a few more specific details.

“Ten inches long, Ari,” Carmella confirmed sternly, Ariana's mouth still agape. “Five inches thick. These are legit numbers, I promise. I don't care who you've been with, they're all just little boys when Mommy Mella comes to play! Hahahahaha!” As she got her jollies out, Carmella briefly returned to her feet to step into the harness and attach the monstrous weapon, which hung from her crotch like a sword, ready to slay any piece of ass it desired.

“I…I…” Ariana stammered, struggling to find the words as Carmella, bottle of lube in hand, got closer and closer. “I didn't even know they made those things that big.”

“Oh, they make them even bigger. In fact, I have a few that are. But, I figured you'd be a first-timer…probably best to take it easy on you,” Mella explained with a widespread grin.

“That’s easy!?” Ari cried, the intimidation of Carmella's massive cock striking fear and worry into every inch of the tiny superstar's little body. “That thing’s nearly as big as my forearm! I'll never be able to take that!”

“You can and you will, Pop-Bitch,” Carmella assured again. “This isn't your pussy, we're talking about. There's no limit to what your ass can take from somebody who knows what they're doing. Somebody like your Money Mistress.”

The Princess of Staten Island popped the cap off of the lube bottle and lathered her shaft in an oily glaze as she promised, “You'll be juuuuuust fine, so long as you stop yappin’ your fuckin’ trap and let me take complete control.”

“C-Complete…control?” Ariana parroted weakly as Carmella returned Grande’s legs to their proper resting place, behind her head, and brought the lube bottle's attention to that glorious, tight bumhole.

“Complete and total control, Ari. Give yourself to me, and everything will be fine,” Carmella promised, applying a healthy amount of lube to Ariana's butthole before tossing the bottle aside. Ari’s legs were trembling, her heart pumping as Carmella brought her massive cock to its target, millimeters from that backdoor.

“H…How do I do that?” Ariana asked worriedly after swallowing hard.

Mella rolled her eyes. “Didn't I tell you already? Shut the fuck up!”

“Okay, okay,” Ariana backed off, and, unsurprisingly, Carmella continued.

“Just…for once in your life, Ariana…shut the fuck up and relax! This little booty? It already belongs to me, okay? I don't need to fuck and gape it to know that,” Mella assured confidently, hoping her guarantee would calm the popstar's nerves. But…Ari gonna Ari.

“But-But how can you be so sure?” Ari asked, tempting fate by interrupting The Money Mistress seconds before claiming her latest piece of ass.

Mella sighed loudly, her cock in hand as she explained, “Because I'm fuckin’ Carmella, bitch, that's why! I fuckin' said it, didn't I?! I know a bitch hole when I see one? Well?!”

“Y-Yeah, I guess,” Ariana awkwardly agreed, but Mella was quick to jump back in.

“You guess? You fuckin’ heard me say that shit, slut!” Carmella barked, leaving Ariana no choice but to quickly apologize in an attempt to diffuse the situation, something that her spoiled and inebriated brain hadn't allowed her to do all night.

“I'm sorry, okay?” Ari pleaded, but it was already too late.

Angrily wagging a finger on her free hand, Carmella gruffly insisted, “No, no, no, ‘cause now you got me ALL fired up! You've been doubtin’ me all night, Pop-Bitch, and I'm pissed about it! Let's get something aBUNdantly clear, bitch: I am THE premier butt-fucker this side of Hell. There ain't a single woman in my line of work OR Tinseltown that can turn a broad into a bitch like me, capiche?”

“Yeah, I…I got it,” Ariana cautiously agreed.

“No, I don't think you do!” Carmella snapped back, bringing her cock to that tight little bootyhole and pressing the tip against it; notably, she didn't push forward. “You’ve been doubtin' me all night, you little fucking brat, and I asked you to cut it out! So I'm done asking now! And I'm fucking done playing nice! So now…I'm gonna fuck your ass now…and you're gonna sit there and take it like a good little cocksleeve. And I don't want to hear ONE peep! NOT ONE, until you're ready to admit how much you love it! And now…you say: yes, my Money Mistress.”

Ariana swallowed hard and responded, “Y-Yes…my Money Mistress.” For the first time all night, Ariana 100% believed the words coming out of Mella's mouth.

“Good. Good bitch. Gooooood little Pop-Bitch,” Carmella complimented, somehow managing to fold up Ari's tiny body even further as she centered her cock again. “Okay. Now that we've both got the proper understanding of what I am…let's hear you say it. Right from that pretty little mouth of yours…tell me what I'm about to do to you, Ari.”

Ariana knew the answer; thank God she knew the answer. Admitting it wasn't easy, though. Hell, she didn't even WANT to get fucked in the ass! Honestly, she didn't want anything to do with any of this topping and bottoming lesbian shit…mostly. There was that small part, that little section of Ariana's brain that was and had been loving every second of her trial run as Money Mella's newest pet. And that, mixed with the wine and the newfound fear and thus appreciation for The Staten Island Princess, helped push Miss Grande to respond exactly how her Money Mistress wanted.

“You're…” Ari gulped, half-ashamed and half-surprised to hear herself utter the words she was about to. “You're gonna fuck my ass.”

Carmella smiled, but quickly fired back. “That’s good. Again.”

“You're gonna fuck my ass.”

Ariana found the words a bit easier this time, something that didn't go unnoticed.

“Say it again.”

“You're gonna fuck my ass,” Ariana repeated for a third time, sounding even more confident in every syllable.

“Tell me again, Ari,” Carmella re-ordered, continuing the trend, Ariana barely letting a second pass as cried out her latest response.

“You're gonna fuck my ass!” The Popstar proclaimed, passion seeping from her words. Like the truest of predators, Carmella made the idea of becoming her prey alluring. The closer the big cock came to plunging into her little asshole, the more Ariana actually wanted it to.

“Fucking right. Now be a good girl and beg for it.” One last order, one that Ari never dreamed she'd find obeying so easy.

“Fuck my-” Ari began, fully swept up the heat of the moment, but not so swept that she couldn't realize that there was a better way to beg for Mella ram her bum. Of course, Mella's narrowing eyes helped matters, as well. “Will you…please fuck my ass?”

Carmella, after seeming to think over the response for a few seconds, issued a response of her own. “Needs work,” She assessed, but ultimately softened, “But it's a start. And, in turn, so will I.”

Ari, surprisingly, found herself grinning at this revelation which was…weird. This was all still very new for her. Nevertheless, Carmella continued.

“Get ready, Pop-Bitch! You're about to find out that God is a woman, and her name is Carmella! Hahahahahahaha!!!!” Carmella's maniacal laughter, a result of the rush she felt from being mere seconds away from defiling one of the world's biggest stars, was what helped propel her into a mental state capable of handling such pressure. The fate of Ariana Grande’s potential bottoming future rested on her shoulders, an enormous amount of responsibility for any top, but a responsibility only the greatest top could actually bear. Carmella was that top. The money-est of all mistresses, unironically, the only one capable of guiding Grande towards her new future as an anal bitch. And, without any further adieu, Mella put the training wheels on and began to teach her new bitch.

Quite literally, in fact. Even when Carmella finally pushed forward beginning the slow, torturous process of forcing that little booty to accept something it wasn't designed to, The Princess of Staten Island made sure to take things easy on The Princess of Pop, just as she'd promised. Sure, taking five inches of girth wasn't exactly the Webster definition of “easy”, but with the prior preparations, a little more lube, and Carmella's guidance, Ariana was more than fit to handle it. At least, once she got past the worst of things.

Naturally, that worst included her virgin, or rather formerly virgin, butthole opening up at least five inches just to fit that massive cock-head up her cute chute. Which was painful, mostly because of her lack of experience. But also, Ariana couldn't help but notice that it wasn't as painful as she first thought it would be. And maybe that was because of the adrenaline rush she was currently experiencing, or attributed to the freshly supply of lube that, with a bit more elbow grease, finally helped that tip pop into her backdoor. Either way, her expectations had not been met; a welcomed surprise. What was not surprising, however, was Carmella's reaction to officially plugging Ariana's booty, something she just HAD to brag about.

“Ooh fuck, how's that feel, Pop-Bitch? Huh? How's it feel to lose your butt cherry? ‘Cause, I know it feels pretty fucking great to take! Hahahahahahaha…yeah, there it is! Mine! All mine! I got Ariana Grande's asshole cherry! God, I can't wait to hear what my other bitches are gonna think! Some of them are really big fans of yours, Ari! Bet they'll love you even more after they find out you're a naughty little butt bitch, just like them!”

“W…Wait-fuuuuuck…y-you can't be serious…right? You can't tell a-anyone about…this,” Ari insisted, but with a cock officially up her ass, just itching to add some inches, her argument has very little ground to stand on. Especially when Mella had gotten her to comply so naturally.

“Oh, don't worry, hoe. I won't tell anyone who matters that I own the cutest fucking little butt in the world…at least not until I'm ready, anyway. Because if I-oh God, if I do that, then every top in the WWE’s gonna want to share this little booty, Ari! And I never, ever….EVER,” Mella barked, emphasizing the last EVER by slowly pressing on, continuing her folded missionary-fueled trek inside of that uncharted tunnel as she finished, “Wanna share your butt with anyone!”

Ariana was primed to respond, but that sharp thrust immediately reworked any sort of calmness inside of her bum into pure chaos, to the point where Grande wasn't able to yap back several moments after the fact, while Mella was still filling her up. “D-Don’t tell anyone…e-ever! N-Nobody can know a-about this,” Ari cried back, feeling more and more full with each passing second, naturally because Mella was working with such a large strap-on cock, but also because that cute little poop chute was just so, SO tight.

In retrospect, five inches of girth was probably far too challenging for such a tiny girl; Mella understood that much. But, Ariana was taking it well, or at least as well as she probably could given the circumstances. It was definitely painful, the worst of which was etched all over that famously gorgeous face of hers, but Mella continued to give, only for Ariana to hunker down and hold her own. In reality, Ari was more worried about the prospect of these shady and vile happenings getting out than anything else, a fact that probably helped make the pain as unnoticeable as possible.

Not completely silent, but nothing a bit more lube couldn't fix, Mella reaching for the bottle as she got about halfway in, bringing her hip motions to a brief stop to apply another heaping helping to the area of action, replying, “Did you forget that I can and will do whatever the fuck I want?”

Ari quickly looked away, obviously blushing, and answered softly, “No.”

“No…what?” Mella growled, tossing the lube bottle aside again, hoping that she wouldn't need it again. Several seconds passed for Ari realized that Mella was looking for a very specific response, and another several after the proper response actually worked its way into her diluted brain.

“No…my…Money Mistress,” Grande expressed, remembering that Mella wanted to be addressed that way going forward after her last big blow-up.

“Aww, good bitch! See, doesn't it feel good to submit to a real woman? Mmmmm….yeah, it just feels right, huh, Ari? You, giving up your little butt, calling me your Money Mistress? They almost feel as right as this…” Carmella lingered as Ari looked on, dazed and confused by what she meant by “this”. At least, until Money Mella elaborated.

“Yeah…that's every inch up your fucking asshole, Pop-Bitch! Every goddamn inch! Nothing feels as right as that! Hahahaha!!”

“H-Huh? E-Every inch?” Ariana croaked, her entire body weak and lifeless. “No way! No way!” Despite Mella's insistence, the shock and awe of experiencing first-hand how skillful The Staten Island Princess is with a strap-on left quite the effect on little Ari.

“Oh, yes way, bitch! Yes, mother-fucking way, all the way, right up your butt!” Mella gloaded, taking a victory lap of sorts as she soaked in the surreal sight of the immense mass of her cock buried into the deepest depths of Ariana Grande’s esteemed bowels. “See, bitch? I told you this hot lil’ booty of yours was made to be fucked!”

Grande whined and cried, and her face was a wincing mess despite its natural gorgeousness. But in reality, the ease at which her butthole welcomed that dick shouldn't have been a surprise. Noted several times throughout the night, both by Mella and herself, Ariana had found enjoyment every step of the way. Every new, vile act, each completely different with an unique set of reservations for Ariana to overcome, all conquered in the name of pleasure. And while having a ten-by-five monster jammed up her pooper wasn’t on the “OHMIGOD” end of the pleasure spectrum quite yet, Ariana’s pussy was still as wet as ever.

Grande was still leaking, still spewing sex like a garden hose because, truth was, she didn't hate it. The feeling was certainly new and strange, much like the previous ass-play, and definitely far from painless. But the smallest of pleasure seeds had already been planted, and based on Carmella's previous assessments, Ariana couldn't argue that the watering and growing of said seeds was inevitable. Now…admit that even the smallest part of her could possibly enjoy something as dirty as getting her asshole pounded? Hell-to-the-no!

Hell, if ever asked once all of the debauchery was over, Grande would still probably deny even admitting that she ACTUALLY begged Carmella to fuck her ass. You know, despite the fact that she literally begged Carmella to fuck her ass? But of course, what choice did she have, right? Money Mella was still fully in control and absolutely not taking no for an answer, right? It didn't matter that, in that moment, with that moon-walkin', trash-talkin' goddess's body on top of her's, keeping her folded like an accordion, Ariana was completely spellbound by the woman she so easily referred to as her “Money Mistress”. But again, if pressed, little Ari would deny the plausibility and genuineness of that, as well.

However all of her bratty attitude and childish delusions were bound to wash away eventually, especially when Carmella finally began to fulfill her destiny, slowly extracting that massive shaft and beginning the process of properly pounding Pop-Bitch’s pooper. Immediately, Ariana's trademark tune, or whatever was still left of it, became even harder to maintain as that stunning rod began to slither around a bit more consistently, pumping in and out of that delicious little butthole. Of course, Carmella was long-dick stroking from the jump; no, that would've been a rookie mistake.

For all of the talk about breaking bitches and making them fall in love with getting their asses wrecked, Carmella understood that taking care of an inexperienced butt was so incredibly important, partly because of etiquette but also, and especially, because an anal bitch prospect could quickly turn sour if things ever became too much. Mella was a generational top, no doubt, with all of stats in every category maxed to the gord. But it took more than just big talk and a big cock to make bitches swoon the way she has in the past. Usually.

Sure, Mella's broken a number of bitches with ruthless ass-fuckings, and even broken one of her most loyal bitches, Brie Bella, without even fucking her once! But, a skilled top would never expect such an inconsistent phenomena to become the norm, nor would they even risk attempting such a ridiculously incredible feat with a peach as prestigious as the one Carmella's hips were currently smacking into every few seconds.

This ass? That pair of beautiful, tanned cheeks, equal parts plump and perky on such a petite package? Absolute heaven on the eyes and heaven to fuck as well; Miss Grande's as sexy as she is vocally talented. The clout alone that Mella could potentially receive from owning Ari’s sweet Italian cheeks was worth all of the money and effort to get here, not to mention the high of turning such a famous babe into her personal sex doll, a high that already was working its way into Carmella's favorite topping moments ever.

And how could it not? Had Charlotte Flair ever fucked Ariana Grande? Had Ronda Rousey? Maybe a bit more likely for the latter, but according to Ari herself, the answer was still no. Truly, Carmella was the one and only woman to fuck Ariana Grande’s perfect little bubble booty. Nobody, not one of her co-workers or any potential undercover tops in Hollywood could lay claim to such an incredible distinction. And thus, getting overzealous and pummeling that cute peach from the start wasn't on Mella's cards.

No, if there's one thing Carmella is besides arrogant, it's money. So, so money in every aspect of her luxurious life. So pump she did with small, manageable strokes for that tight, unpracticed hole until the time was right. Seconds, minutes, several of both passed and it didn't matter. Mella didn't adjust her speed and she never gave Ariana more than half of her huge cock until she deemed the “Side to Side” singer ready for more. Until The Money Mistress received her verbal cue to proceed in the form of a single, soft, solitary moan slipping from that petite goddess’s plump, red lips.

Such a small sign was immediately gobbled up by the mighty Money Mistress, proof that her theory regarding Ari’s inevitable and permanent transformation from pop-star to Pop-Bitch was already taking shape. That lone moan, barely audible by itself, wouldn't even have been heard by a lesser top. Lesser tops would've needed more to follow, and luckily for them, if place-swapped with Mella, those moans did come shortly after. But, they acted independently and unnecessarily. Because Carmella wasn't a lesser top, she was THE top, THE best butt-fucker and bitch-maker the world over, and her well-trained ears found that small cry, that desperate plea for more like an expert detective finds a lead.

Ariana wanted more, she wanted every inch pumped into her perky peach pronto. Maybe she was too stupid, or proud, or drunk to admit it. To admit that someone who she deemed less famous, rich, and talented than her was fucking her asshole and she was absolutely loving it, but also knew that she needed more. A bitter pill to swallow for the diminutive diva but, thankfully, a bill she got to swallow in solitude, as Mella took the cues and began plunging more of that rubber rod into Ariana's backdoor. And naturally, she couldn't help but gloat.

“Theeeeeeere you go, Ari. There you fucking go, bitch! How's that, huh?” Mella pushed, hoping to hear a bit of enthusiasm beyond some uncontrollable moans, but Ari still wasn't budging. Which, of course, didn't stop Mella from trying again. “Oooh, you feel your Money Mistress, don't you, Ariana? All deep in your little butt? You take it SOOOOOO good for me, is this really your first time?”

That last line managed to get the type of response Mella was looking for.

“Y-Yes,” Ariana whimpered in between lustful groans, her big, brown eyes hazy, practically glazed over. “It's my…my…first…I swear.”

“You're first cock up your butt?” Mella purred rhetorically, dicking that perfect booty down the way only she could, with a stamina and vigor that plunged every inch deep into Ari's heavenly bowels in one fluid thrust, and removed them just as quickly, only to repeat the process again and again.

“Y-Yes,” Ari weakly agreed, hanging on every motion, completely and utterly putty, lost in Carmella's hungry, predatory gaze. And, surprisingly, the acclaimed pop and R&B superstar found that gaze coming closer and closer, Mella's pretty face drawing in until it sat mere inches away from Ari's. An easy feat thanks to how foldable and fuckable Ariana Grande actually was; a true sex doll come-to-life. And just as easy was what came next, Mella proving that every action she performs, every step she takes, has a purpose, The Money Mistress pressing her full lips down on Ariana's as she rammed her rod up that cute chute. And unsurprisingly, the Grammy award-winning artist immediately melted into the kiss.

No bratty attitude, no complaining or whining. Ariana welcomed those lips with open arms, the perfect distraction from all of the damage that Mella was causing her hip movements. Though, the damage wasn't on a physical level; it was purely mental. The mental toll that Carmella's expert ass-buggery was inflicting…it was incredible that Ariana had managed to endure as much as she has. But, the ease at which she welcomed Carmella's lips and offered her own in equal measures was proof that some cracks had already begun to form.

The kiss, a surprisingly passionate embrace from a pair of women who've spent their entire short, shared history at odds with one another. Passionate, until broken out of necessity, their lips briefly parting ways so Ariana could continue to moan as her asshole was stuffed. Before long, the process of kissing and breaking around Ari's lustful purrs became a recurring hit, a less-sordid sight to accompany the vulgarity on display as Carmella had her way with the chart-topper’s forbidden passage. They'd kiss, pressing their plump lips together and even allowing their tongues to mingle every now and again until a particularly sharp thrust into that tiny tush sent the little sex bomb reeling, before she'd undergo a brief recovery period and repeat the process all over again. Poetry in motion, the most comfortable either woman had felt all night, unironically in the roles they were both meant to play: Carmella on top, and Ariana at the very bottom. And honestly, that dynamic in and of itself was absolutely perfect.

But, for as fitting and glorious as it was to feel Ari’s tiny body beneath her, The Money Mistress knew she was depriving herself of the litany of other ways she planned on exploring Ariana's sexuality. There were still so many sights to see, so many ways to put that slim, tight and tan body to use. And naturally, Carmella already had a few in mind.

So, when Money Mella finally broke their kiss for the last time, the slow extraction of her cock followed, Grande so deep in the zone she didn't even realize that this time, there wouldn't be a thrust to accompany the removal. In fact, she didn't realize until that cock was completely out of her butt, the head popping out with aplomb, briefly leaving Ari’s bumhole as wide around as a golf ball before her relative anal inexperienced and youth helped it return to a more natural position.

After somewhat recovering from her high, Grande, a bit annoyed, whined, “Why d-did you stop?”

Smirking, her body still pressed against Ari's, Carmella ignored a long-winded answer and cut to the chase. “I want you to suck my cock.”

“Wha…huh? N-No way! That…” Ariana denied, still trying to fully catch her breath as her tone softened, as if she was ashamed at what was about to leave her mouth next, nearly whispering, “That was in my ass.”

Carmella, sighing, simply argued, “So?”

“So that's gross!”

“Uggghhh,” Mella groaned. “You only think it's gross because you haven't tried it yet…we've been over this.”

“No, I think it's gross because…you know…”

“That wasn't a problem for me when I was eatin’ right from the source,” Carmella pointed out. “Your butthole tastes incredible. And you sucking my cock clean of that incredible taste is a tradition for good little bitches. And you wanna be a good little bitch for your Money Mistress, don't you?”

A bold question, one that Carmella asked off of the back of Ari’s reaction to her first anal experience. It was obvious to anyone with a working brain: Ariana liked getting her butt fucked. But that question lingered, and what should've been an obvious answer never came as Ariana, too stubborn to fully admit defeat, refused to acknowledge her Money Mistress. But where Ariana made her greatest mistake is that she forgot the golden rule: Carmella still wasn't taking no for an answer. And yet another universal truth that slipped Ari’s mind? Her silence was just as unwelcome as a definite no.

So, instead of meandering around, waiting for verification, Carmella took matters into her own hands. Literally, by wrapping up Ariana's little body and holding her tight, before using those powerful dancer's legs of hers to propel Carmella up to her feet, Ari still in her grasp. Naturally, Ariana was taken aback by how casually Mella was able to lift both herself and Miss not-quite-so-literally Grande. Sure, it wasn't the first time Ari had been picked up during sex, her slight frame and stature making her a perennial spinner to the rappers and tough guys that made up a large portion of the “One Last Time” singer’s love and lust life. But, to be picked up so easily by another woman was definitely a new one, even their introductory interaction made their differences in size and strength very apparent.

Regardless of Ariana's shock, Mella continued her plot, carrying Grande over to the couch, the setting of their first two moments together as bottom and top. She promptly sat down on arrival, keeping Ari in her lap, all while the vocal vixen remained in awe at both Carmella's power as well as her determination, even with the massive cock poking into her gut. Now seated, Money Mella released her iron grip on Ari's petite body, allowing the glamorous popstar to take a more natural, cowgirl position, at least for the time being.

“So…so I'm guessing I don't have to suck your…umm…dick?” Ari awkwardly asked, not wanting to anger the woman she both feared and secretly lusted for.

“Oh, you will,” Carmella assured gruffly. “But I'll give it a bit of time. I'm not happy about it…but I'll do it. So, in the meantime, you're going to appease me by turning around and bouncing that little booty on my cock.”

Ariana, unsure of whether to be happy that she got out of tasting her butt for the time being or upset that the ball was now in her court, cautiously clarified, “Y-You want me to…to ride you?”

“Yep,” Carmella settled sternly. “Oh, and by the way…you don't get a choice on this one.”

“But…” Ari stammered, scared of taking control, scared of keeping her emotions in check. “What if I don't want to?”

“Didn't you hear what I just said?”

“I did but, it's like…I don't know…”

“What's the big deal?” Mella asked casually. “You were loving everything that I was doing to you just a few minutes ago, right?”

Again silence. Cold, unforgiving silence, Ari lowering her head in shame as she refused to give her honest answer. Because, how could she possibly admit that she liked something as dirty and embarrassing as having her butt fucked? But, unfortunately for Ari’s ego, Carmella wasn't done pushing yet. Not by a long shot.

Incensed by Ari’s silence, Mella suddenly slammed both hands down, each landing on one of Ariana's pert ass cheeks, still sore from the brutal spanking earlier. Grande whined in response, but didn't fight off Mella's advances, nor did she argue or complain, almost as if Ariana accepted the fact that she knew she deserved it.

“I wanted to see you go ass-to-mouth, Pop-Bitch, and you complained. So, I let you off the hook. I did you that favor. But you're not getting off this hook, I promise. You're gonna turn around, and you're gonna bounce on my dick like a good little bunny. Is that understood?”

“But-” Ariana attempted to interrupt, but was quickly cut off.

“Is that understood!?” Mella repeated, intensifying her tone. And thus, all the fight in Ariana disappeared once more. That aggression, that fear that Carmella instilled was too much for Ari to ignore. She understood that she had every right to say no, that every moral and physical law gave her that privilege. But that fact hardly mattered when the only real problem was her bratty little ego refusing to admit the truth. Ariana wasn't a victim, at least not in the traditional sense. She wanted Carmella to keep fucking her, wanted to feel that cock in her asshole again. Again, she simply didn't want anyone, even the person responsible for all these new, strange feelings, to know.

But, Mella's tone suggested that arguing and complaining was no longer an option, and by doing so, Ariana would be risking some potentially severe repercussions. Maybe even another long spanking session, the thought of which convinced Ariana to swallow her pride and adjust her sitting position until she no longer faced Carmella, her backside instead staring back at The Princess of Staten Island.

“Not good enough,” Carmella gruffly confirmed, forcing another small whine out from The Pop Princess. “I don't just want to see that you understand. I want to hear it, too.”

No other options, hell, maybe even less than before. Ariana lowered her head, as she admitted, “I understand…my Money Mistress. I'll ride you.”

Immediately, Carmella grinned with delight. “Now see? That's more like it! So, go ahead and perk up, Ari! I'm giving you control, so I'm expecting a lot of enthusiasm from your riding, okay? I really wanna see those cheeks fucking MOVE!”

Ariana shook her head in understanding, but wore the face of a woman who still had her reservations. Carmella briefly considered forcing her to, once again, acknowledge her Money Mistress, but decided against it, partially because Ariana's agreement seemed sincere enough, but mostly because she was itching to see that booty bounce and didn't want to wait a second longer. For a tiny gal without too much junk in her trunk, the overall plumpness and shape of Ariana's butt was a sight to behold, and the fact that Carmella had deprived herself of such a sight for as long as she had was an utter travesty. Sure, such a deprivation came as a result of getting her cunt licked to orgasm by the pop-superstar, doing her own oral performance on both of Ari's holes and then taking the bitch’s anal cherry. But, her enjoyment of any or all of those acts didn't change the fact that she hadn't seen those tanned cheeks in action since she was smacking them into next week. Far, far too long, and it was time to change that.

Ariana took a few seconds to steady herself, and enjoyed a couple long, deep breaths before she rose up, took hold of Mella's massive cock, and directed it towards her asshole. She slowly lowered her ass down, guided by Mella's hands on her hips as the stunning soprano impaled herself on that ridiculously huge cock, her draw dropping as her asshole swallowed up inch upon inch. With nowhere to go except down, Ariana didn't have much choice outside taking as much cock as she could handle in record time, a feat she performed with a level of skill reminiscent to her singing ability, but with vocal range replaced by butt sex skill. Truly an anal prodigy, but of course, Carmella already knew that.

After welcoming that dick with little more than a dropped jaw, Ari gave herself a few moments to catch her breath and regain her bearings. During that time, she was able to spread her legs a bit and position her arms on the couch, using them to help keep her balanced as she began her cock-riding performance. And boy, what a performance it was! While Ariana may have been an anal virgin before the night had begun, it was quite obvious that this cowgirl was far from unfamiliar with the rodeo.

Once she got going, Ariana proved herself to be an expert on top, raising and lowering herself with ease while moving her body in an alluring enough manner to ensure her audience would enjoy the view. The way Grande worked her hips, how easily that cock slid in and out of that butthole as if her cherry hadn't just been popped within the hour, the sassiness attached to her trademark high-ponytail bobbing back and forth during the booty werk…and yes, of course…the booty werk!

Clearly a pro pole hopper, Ari was well-versed when it came to putting on a show both in stadiums and in the bedroom. So naturally, when it came time for Mella to cast her god-like gaze upon the apple of her eyes…so MONEY! God, even more “money” than the rest of her experience topping Ari, which, in and of itself, was money! Carmella just knew that Ariana's booty would be magic in motion and sure enough, once the chart-topping sensation got to work, Money Mella couldn't take her eyes off of that precious, plump and perky peach.

Just…oh, the perfect amount of jiggle in each cheek, not to mention how gorgeous that butt really was. Obviously her tan and tasty skin was naturally flawless and blemish free, of course overruled by the extended spanking session she endured earlier, the evidence of which still boldy remained. But that Sting had faded away long ago and now, those marks only existed as a means to take Mella's obsession with the beautiful view in front of her to an entirely new level. All in all, the poetry in motion that was Ariana Grande rhythmically throwing that ass down was everything Carmella hoped it would be and then some.

And of course, much like a true top should, Carmella didn't take that for granted. In fact, her eyes were stuck to that caboose like white on rice; God, it nearly looked as good as it tasted. Which still, meant that little booty was well-worth the high praise Mella's eyes were dishing out, and so too was Grande's gleeful gyrating and hypnotic hip swiveling. Ariana's performance was second to none; for such a tiny girl, she really knew her way around a massive cock!

Which really wasn't too surprising, considering the type of guys she'd supposedly been with in the past. Obviously, their cocks all paled in comparison to Mella's, just as she'd assured and Ari's reaction to the sight of that beast confirmed. But it was quite obvious that riding big dicks wasn't a new task for Goddess Grande. Now fully comfortable, without all the worries that plagued her mind before she began, Ariana was back in her zone, back to loving every second of getting ramrodded by that ridiculous shaft, and back to moaning like a good little butt bitch for her Money Mistress. Truly, all was right in the world.

Ariana Grande was exercising her God-gifted ability as a human cocksleeve and Carmella was a few sharp thrusts away from breaking another tiny anal bitch in half. Honestly, she probably could break Ari in half, considering just how delectably dainty she was, and hell, maybe she would. For now though, Carmella allowed Ari to control the pace, to ride that dick at her leisure, a decision that quickly proved to be a blessing in disguise.

It didn't take long for Ariana to return to her natural state of enjoying the feeling of her asshole being split open. But unlike before when Mella was in control, jamming that rod up Ari's butt, the ball was in Grande's court. She could take her time, pick her spots, and dictate the pace to whatever suited her and whatever she found most pleasurable in that particular moment. If Ari wanted to speed up, she did, and if she wanted to slow things down, it was her decision. Such freedom for a first-timer was absolutely game changing.

It gave Ariana an avenue to enjoy the feeling of being dominated without actually feeling like she was being dominated and, thus, made the objectively submissive act of getting her asshole stretched open by another woman's strap-on cock feel infinitely less shameful. The change was night and day, evidenced by her ever-evolving enthusiasm and her moans, which seemed to grow by the decibel level, beginning to echo throughout the otherwise silent hotel room. For the first time, Ariana Grande was completely lost in anal bliss.

It was during that time, as Ariana's most wonderful, show-stopping performance of the night reached a fever pitch, that Carmella managed to pluck her eyes away from that gorgeous little booty-in-motion to reach out and coil her hand in that dangling, bobbing ponytail. The signature Ari “do”, a way for her to mask the years of hair-dying wear and tear on those brown locks and still look phenomenal, just so perfectly grab-able; Mella had already shown that ponytail a fair bit of attention earlier, during the spanking. But now, with Grande going off like the prettiest of fireworks, was as good of a time as any to take gold again like a horse's reins.

Fittingly, Carmella gripping Ariana's hair tightly didn't stop the award-winning artist from bouncing like a bunny, either slowly or at a breakneck pace, depending on how overwhelmed she was feeling. That bratty sensation was going ham on her hole with reckless abandon one minute, and tenderly sodomizing that chute the next, all in the name of boundless pleasure and the need to sapp up every ounce that Mella's massive, man-made meat-stick provided. And, as you can imagine, the sights and sounds could only mean one thing: Carmella was moments away from attaining her ultimate goal.

“Gonna keep denying it now?” Carmella pushed, placing a second hand, just above the other, on that long ponytail.

Maybe it was still Ari's ego coming into play, or maybe she was so lost in pleasure that she hadn't noticed the question being asked. But either way, Ari indeed used silence to deny the truth yet again. Not total silence, as mouth was still a moan factory, but silence by way of ignorance, Mella's question initially going unanswered but, this close to the finish line, there was no way she was going to give up now.

“Aww, that's cuuuuute! You think you get to keep playing this game forever, don't you, Pop-Bitch? Well it's done! Tell me what I want to hear, right fucking now! Tell me how much you love that cock!” Briefly, Ariana called that bluff, continuing her expert riding and ignoring the hard-hitting commands. But, a final demand, more fear-inducing than all of the others, sent a chill up the multi-platinum superstar's spine like nothing ever had before. One last call, straight from her Money Mistress's mouth. “Do it now, or else I'll take away my cock!” Immediately, Ariana felt her heart skip a beat, knocking her out of any pleasure-induced trance she might've been suffering from.

Mella wouldn't actually…do that, right? Surely she understood how big of a deal it was for Ariana to be grinding on her lap like a high-end stripper? Ari briefly looked back, just for a glimpse to see if Carmella's face matched her tone and, sure enough, it did. She was being dead serious, further clarified seconds later, when Mella's grip on that high pony began to tighten, not to a point of serious strain, but just enough to emphasize her previous words and ensure that now was make or break. That now, if Ariana wanted this incredible pleasure, the greatest pleasure she could ever remember to keep coming, then she needed to admit that it was exactly that. The greatest thing anyone had ever forced her to feel and that, above all, her asshole loved the taste of Carmella's massive girlcock. And, left only with the option to kiss that cock goodbye or lay her ego to rest, Ariana Grande, pop-superstar extraordinaire, opted to go with the only path that made sense.

“I…I love it,” Grande softly whimpered, the first admission as the shell around her frazzled mind began to crack. She swallowed hard, Carmella allowing her bitch a second to collect her thoughts as Ari put together a more powerful, heartfelt response. “I love your cock in my ass!”

“Yeaaaaah, that's it, bitch!” Carmella purred, grinning sadistically. “You love being a good little butt bitch for your Money Mistress!”

“I do!” Grande squealed.

“Say it, word for word, whore!” Carmella demanded with a single tug at Ari's hair to help keep the admissions coming.

“I love…love being a good little butt bitch for my Money Mistress!” Ariana cried out, the consistency of her gleeful bouncing out of the window, the tiny sexbomb hopping up and down that cock as quickly as she could, the amount of dopamine heading to her brain beginning to overflow.

Without another order to do so, Ari pathetically continued, “I’m in love with your cock…oh, God, I never thought I'd say that but…I love being a perfect little asshole bitch for you, my Money Mistress! I l-love it so fucking muuuuuch!!!!”

“So, I'll take it, you don't want me to take my cock away?” Carmella asked rhetorically, unable to help herself from grinning both at her sassy little remark, as well as how shamefully quick Anal Star Ari was to respond with another bit of honesty.

“Fuck-God no! Please…never do that! Please, please, please, don't EVER take that cock out of my fucking butt!!!!”

“Mmmm…what a dirty girl you are, Ari….did I call it or what, huh?” Carmella purred, and naturally, Ari was right behind her again.

“You did! Oh…oh fuck, you called it! You called it! Y-You said I would…ohmigod…I would love getting my butt fucked! And I don't! I d-don't just love it! I'm fucking addicted! It's…it's the best thing I've ever f…felt before!” Despite her spirited personal degradation, Ariana's breaths were short, and sweat began to drip down from her forehead. All the while, her asshole began to tighten up, telling Carmella that a climax was on the horizon.

“You're my fuckdoll, Ari,” Carmella declared, further tightening that ponytail around her hands.

“I'm your fuckdoll!” Ari shamelessly parroted back, a far cry from the ego-driven, bratty diva that she was when they first met, a transformation that Mella willed into existence the second she decided to put Ariana in her place.

“My newest pet.”

“I'm your newest pet!”

Then, Carmella brought her lips close to Ariana's ear, and whispered, “You're my Pop-Bitch.” And of course, little Ari responded in kind.

“Oh fuck, I'm your Pop-Bitch! Fuuuuck…I'm a little anal Pop-Bitch for my Money Mistress!!! I'm your butt-sex popstar! And I'm…I'm gonna…ohmigod, I wanna-”

“I know, bitch,” Carmella assured confidently. “You wanna cum, right?” Ariana nodded her head, looking back at Mella as she continued riding, albeit at a slower pace than before.

“Figures,” Carmella smugly assessed. “My little Pop-Bitch wants me to make her butt cum. Your first anal orgasm! That's so sweet, but you're gonna have to do something for me first.”

“What is it?! I'll…I'll do anything!” Ariana pathetically cried out.

“Two things: apologize and beg. Simple right? Apologize for being so rude, for behaving like such a royal bitch. And, of course, you have to beg for it, too! Beg your Money Mistress for her forgiveness, and then beg her to give you the highest of highs! Now, bitch, double-time!” Another small tug on her hair was delivered to get Ariana in gear but, really, it was nothing more than formality. Grande would've been quick to comply regardless.

“I'm so sorry! I'm so, so, SO sorry, my Money Mistress! I can't believe I a-acted like such a brat…just because you're not as rich or famous as me! I s-swear, I'll never do it again! So, please…please, forgive me, Money Mistress!”

Briefly, Carmella considered keeping the bitch on ice for that “rich and famous” line, but decided against it, mostly because Ari was about to pop any second, and she wanted to hear her newest pet beg for an orgasm before all was said and done. “Apology accepted, my little Pop-Bitch! Now, make me believe you've earned the right to cum.”

This was an easy one.

“May I…m-may I please cum, Mistress Mella?” Ariana began, not getting too far before Carmella cut her off.

“Ooh, proper Pop-Bitch? Fancy…but keep going.”

“Okay, okay,” Ariana sheepishly acknowledged before continuing, “Please…may I cum? I'm sorry I was such a bad girl! I'll be a good girl…f-from now on, okay? I'll be a good Pop-Bitch for my Money Mistress! So pretty please can I cum?”

“Okay,” Carmella agreed, Ariana squealing gleefully but, unfortunately, Money Mella wasn't done just yet. There was still a caveat she'd yet to reveal. “I'll let you cum…but when you're done, you're gonna suck every last fucking drop of butt cream off my cock! I want it absolutely fucking spotless! Deal?”

A massive oof, even in Ari’s current state. Being cock-drunk didn't really change Ariana's perception of how nasty it sounded to suck a dick that's been in her ass for the last half-an-hour, give or take. But, far worse, borderline terrifying, was the prospect of being denied an orgasm, her first anal orgasm. Ari had tried calling Mella's bluff before; Ariana knew that if she didn't agree to go ass-to-mouth, then Mella would be a woman of her word. Which, sure, meant that things would end and Ariana would get the $100,000 that Carmella owed her for this meet and greet gone right, but did that even matter any more? Did Ari even want this moment with Mella to end? Well…in a way, she did, with a climax so alluring and fitting that she'd sacrifice her own dignity to experience it, and perform an act as filthy as ATM to prevent herself from losing it.

“Okay, I'll do it!” Ariana caved. “I'll give you head after, I promise! I'll…taste my asshole for you!”

For a moment, it appeared as though Ariana's pleas fell on deaf ears. She even doubled-down afterward, whining, “Can I cum now?!”, hoping that would spur a verbal response from her Money Mistress. But, the words never came, at least not before The Princess of Staten Island finally put her long-standing stranglehold on that iconic Dangerous Woman high-pony, yanking down eternally, jolting Ariana's head back.

“Cum for me, Pop-Bitch,” Carmella growled as she began to roughly buck her hips, maximizing the pleasure as Ari still bounced up and down, feeling every single inch barrel into her bowels with complete and utter devastation. Mella's thighs crashing into her cute, bruised cheeks, the sound of skin-on-skin contact that Carmella had become accustomed to hearing when claiming a bitch missing for large portions throughout her conquest of Grande, but more than welcomed to the grand finale. And naturally, those slaps weren't the only noise occupying the space. Not only were Ariana's howls well-beyond out of control, but Carmella was far from done running her mouth.

“Fucking do it, whore! Cum for your Money Mistress! Show me…show me how you…hehe…how you pop, bitch! Hahahaha!!!” Carmella laughed, that jolly and joyful expression starkly contrasted by an uptick in the intensity of her thrusts, both girls giving their maximum effort as Ariana was brought over the edge.

“Ohhhhh my fuck I'm cumming!!!! I'm…FFFFFUUUCCCCKKKINGGGGG CUMMMMINNNNNGGGG FROM MY AAAAASSSSSSS!!!!” Ari screamed as her mind went blank, officially completing her transformation from pop-star to Pop-Bitch. Truly a magical moment, those big, brown eyes rolling to the back of her head while she continued to slam herself against Mommy Mella's motions even after her brain short-circuited a beautiful sight to behold.

Carmella certainly enjoyed the sight. Everything about forcing that petite cock-puppet to the strongest climax of her young life was magical; Mella swore that Ari hit a high note with orgasmic screams. Hell, the thrill of bringing such a euphoric experience into the world probably would've been enough to make Carmella cum herself, had she not already cum from Ari’s fantastic head game earlier.

Regardless, there was plenty to enjoy on Mella's end without the need for another orgasm of her own. Plenty of fun, at least until Ariana collapsed from exhaustion after nearly a full, minute-long orgasm, the pleasure waves bashing into every inch of her body before meeting up together in one specific area, spewing out of her pussy in the form of squirt, marking the end of her glorious high spot. Ariana came longer and harder than she ever had before and when she was finally done, the only thing keeping her limp, lifeless body upright was that ironclad grip on her famous, iconic ponytail.

Eventually, Ariana recovered, eventually she regained her bearings. But that was only after Carmella released that grip, nearly resulting in a Grande face-plant for the ages. Ari found herself face down, ass up regardless the perfect place for her freshly-fucked, gaping mess of an asshole to be properly observed; for Carmella to get a look at her handiwork. Again, Ari did recover, but only after several minutes of laying there, her naked body covered in sweat from head to toe. And, naturally, when she finally did, Ariana Grande followed the example her Money Mistress had set, and became a woman of her word, sucking every last drop of cum and ass cream off of that luxurious shaft and hating how she denied herself that gift earlier. Yet another act that Carmella made her love, Ariana using her tongue, lips and throat until she'd done the best possible job she could. Until the only way to get more was to repeat the process…all…over…again….

***

The Next Morning…

***

Stirring underneath the silk covers of the massive, master hotel bed, Ariana Grande awoke in a sea of lavender, the sound of her iPhone vibrating on the nightstand interrupting her well-deserved slumber after the rollercoaster of a night she'd experienced. Twists and turns and, above all, transformations that now, with her head pounding from all the wine she sucked down, her booty covered in tender bruises from the harsh spanking and her asshole sore and aching from her first anal experience, Ariana wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Before she could think about the previous night for too long, or how it even ended for that matter, Ari decided to check her phone and see what all the fuss was about. The reason behind the buzzing? A phone call, the third of which in the last ten minutes from her agent, Jen, i.e. the woman who set up the meet and greet between her and Mella in the first place. Ari promptly declined the call; she thought doing so was best, as she was so pissed with Jen that she just MAY consider firing the bitch again. The perfect way to avoid such an irrational reaction was to avoid Jen altogether.

Instead of entertaining the help, Grande slithered out of bed and attempted to walk towards the bathroom, immediately finding herself using a movement pattern that could only be described as Gumby-esque, thanks in no small part to how completely exhausted her little body still was. Eventually though, Ariana did make her way to the bathroom, and it wasn't long before she caught a look of herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, the make-up she'd worn last night still sat ruined on her face, and dried bits of girlcum and ass cream remained on her lips and around her mouth. And, just like that, everything came rushing back. Every. Single. Vile. Act.

The spanking. The pussy eating, from both ends. The rimming. The ass to mouth. And, of course, the incredible anal sex that, in the moment, was so fantastic that Ariana couldn't remember ever experiencing something so great, but now, felt as dirty and wrong as it had with the worst of her ego in the way. Dirty and wrong, and as such, Ariana quickly did her best to wash the stains of her lesbian sexcapades from her face.

Before long, Ariana returned to her room, a fresh and clean woman, looking to push the sins of the previous night behind her, only to be welcomed by a chorus of phone vibrations once again. After briefly considering ignoring these as well, assuming it was just Jen prodding, wondering whether she still had a job or not, Ari decided to check her phone, just out of curiosity. But what sat, staring back on the illuminated screen, wasn't a call or even a text from Jen. Instead, it was a text from a different contact. A contact that must've been put into her phone after her first orgasm, when things got especially hazy last night.

On her phone read the words:

From: My Money Mistress

“Check the couch.”

Ariana rolled her eyes; she legitimately didn't remember putting Carmella into her phone but…she had to have, considering her phone has a passcode that Money Mella couldn't have known otherwise. Nevertheless, Ariana, still naked, her gorgeous, perky breasts and tight, plump booty on full display for the audience of nobody, slowly made her way into the living quarters, her phone still in hand. Sure enough, on the couch, the home of some of her most-glorious and memorable moments last night, sat a small, white gift bag, decorated in green and gold dollar signs. Correctly assuming it to be a gift for her, possibly the $100,000 she'd been promised, as well as the fact that Carmella must've been hiding all of this inside of that damned briefcase of hers, Ariana grabbed the bag and rifled inside.

Past the tissue paper was a greeting card, sitting near the top. The front of the card was decorated similarly to the bag, with the only difference being instead of an actual, witty message on the front like greeting cards typically have, this one read, “In honor of your new life, beneath your Money Mistress…”

Ariana couldn't help but grin a bit, even if the cause was the completely outlandish idea of Carmella getting a greeting card custom made for this moment. It seemed ridiculous but…she definitely didn't get this one at Hallmark. Further proof of that lay inside, within the typed text opposite the side where the $100,000 check sat, which stated, “Enjoy this gift to you and your asshole. God is a woman and her name is Carmella, your eternal Money Mistress.”

As if the typed, prepared message wasn't enough, below it was a hand-written portion, obviously scribed by Mella herself. It read, “Thanks for a wonderful night, Pop-Bitch! Enjoy your payment, though I probably don't even need to leave it, considering how much you ACTUALLY enjoyed by cock. Let me know if you're ever inching to get put in your place again. I'd love to teach you another lesson. P.S. The money isn't your gift. Check the bag again. You'll find proof that you belong to me, then, now, and forever.”

Ariana sighed reading Carmella's personal note, especially gazing upon the name “Pop-Bitch”, such an aggravating and ill-fitting title for a woman of her talents. More nauseating, however, was reading how the check had been made out to “Ariana ‘Pop-Bitch’ Grande”, and how embarrassing it was gonna be to cash it. Normally, she had people, usually Jen, do the trivial shit for her but, she couldn't exactly let anyone in her inner circle see a piece of paper in which she's referred to by some psycho-domme’s pet name for her. Super duper not cool.

Ariana closed the card, check still inside, and returned to the bag; surely the other “gift” in question had to be deeper? Sure enough, past even more tissue sat a small box, again decorated similarly to the other custom-made items except accompanying the previous designs was a present bow made out of two $100 bills. Ariana unfolded the bills and sat them aside, obviously looking to pocket them later and add to her already exorbitant wealth before following suit and removing the box's lid. What she found inside was a bit…concerning to say the least.

The gift, Ariana's first time laying eyes on one in person, was quite clearly, a buttplug. Roughly five inches in length and a few wide. More notable, however, was its appearance. Gold, solid, 24-karat gold if Ariana's eyes weren't deceiving her, almost astounding as the green-jeweled base, which inside sat a golden microphone insignia, and naturally, the engraving of “Pop-Bitch” on the side. Ari put the box down and, surprisingly, found herself looking over the buttplug. And, as she did, memories of the previous night came rushing again. But this time, as the gold’s sheen twinged in her eyes, they were remembered a bit more fondly, to say the least.

And in that moment, as she stared at that buttplug…Pop-Bitch's buttplug…her buttplug…Ariana felt her asshole begin to ache. But, not because it was sore. No, no, no…it ached because it was hungry. Mouth-watering, Grande briefly popped the plug into her maw and suckled on it, getting it nice and wet before it inevitably entered its new forever home. But, before Ari could get too far, her phone, sitting on the couch beside the greeting card, began to buzz again.

Ariana groaned around her plug as she read the name on the screen, the name belonging to the woman she'd already declined a call from. Jen. As much as Ariana wanted to ignore this one, as well, she realized that Jen likely wasn't going to stop calling until Ari picked up; eventually, she'd have to answer. And now was as good of a time to get the bitch off of her back as any. So, Ariana spit out her saliva covered, beautiful golden buttplug into her left hand, picked up her phone, and swiped to answer.

“What the fuck do you want, Jen?” Ari growled, immediately greeting her faithful employee with vitriol.

“Sorry to bother you, Miss Grande…good morning,” Jen responded with nothing but kindness in her voice.

Sighing, Ariana repeated, “What do you want?”

“I'm just…checking in…wanted to see how that meet and greet turned out,” Jen clarified as Ariana, completely unbothered by her employee's babbling, returned her attention to the plug that she was about to shove up her starving little butthole before she was SO RUDELY interrupted. What better time than the present, right? So, Ari pressed the plug against her opening, feeling her butthole wrap around the cold titanium in a brief moment of unbridled, uncontrollable euphoria. And as the inches disappeared into her depths, Ariana let out a soft, almost inaudible moan, her heart immediately dropping as she realized that Jen may have heard her, The Pop Princess placing her hand over her mouth, though it didn't matter anymore. It was too late. Jen heard it, alright. It's just…lucky for Ariana that her faithful agent wasn't surprised to hear it.

“Sooooooo,” Jen dragged out on the other end, Ari's heart pumping fast. “I'm gonna assume everything with our Money Mistress went well?”

“Our…wait…” Ariana's heart rose back to its natural position, and then fell back down to the bottom of her chest again! “What!? WHAT!? You…you…knew? About…her?” Ariana asked, her words shaky and confused.

“Of course I knew, Miss Grande,” Jen confirmed calmly and warmly. “God is a woman and her name is Carmella, our eternal Money Mistress. You'd have to be stupid not to know that!”