WWE Raw
A week has passed and it’s time for Monday night Raw. At the end of Raw, Hell will have finished his punishment and will be a free man again. Cody and Hooks music hits. The lights go out. They walk out onto the entrance but their barely visible.
Hell, crawls out beside them, he on all fours, his collar is luminous, lighting him up so he is all that can be seen in the arena. He has an illuminous butt plug shaped like a dog tail. Cody and Hook starting walking Hell down to the ring pulling him by the leash.
Hell's heart hammers against his ribs, his humiliation amplified by the spotlight highlighting his shame. The collar and tail-plug glow like a beacon, announcing his degradation to the entire world. He crawls, his body trembling, his face burning. The air seems to vibrate with anticipation.
He can't believe this is happening. Not anymore. Not after everything he's endured. But he's trapped, forced to endure one final, agonizing march toward the ring. Every fibre of his being screams at him to resist, but what's the point?
He's been broken, reduced to a spectacle, a plaything for the amusement of others. Hook orders Hell to stand up as they get to the ring. The crowd roars as Hell does as he's told, the glowing dog tail twitching as if in defiance.
Hell rises unsteadily to his feet, the dog tail plug shifting inside him with every movement, a constant reminder of his dehumanization. His eyes burn with resentment as he meets the roar of the crowd. His jaw clenches so hard it aches, but he won't give them the satisfaction of seeing him buckle now.
Not after everything. He stands tall, shoulders back, trying to reclaim some shred of his dignity even as he's displayed like an object. His spirit is battered, but it still smoulders, refusing to be extinguished completely. One way or another, he'll make Cody and Hook pay for this. Somehow.
They climb into the ring, Hell rolling in knowing it will only expose his naked body to the crowd more as the lights come on. Cody picks up the mic "So Hell, how has it felt this last week, being a naked slave for us?" He asks.
Hell's breath hitches. He rolls onto his back, his eyes darting around the ring, searching for escape, but there's none. The bright lights pierce through his defences, illuminating every inch of his exposed, humiliated form.
The dog tail plug seems to pulse with every beat of his heart, a constant, mocking presence. He glares at Cody, his throat dry, his voice barely above a whisper. "A nightmare," he spits, his words laced with venom. "It's been a living hell."
He swallows hard, trying to maintain what little pride he has left. "But it's almost over." He locks eyes with Cody, willing him to hear the promise hidden beneath his words: You won't get away with this.
"Oh, I think it's just beginning for you." Hook says with a devilish grin, eliciting another round of cheers from the audience. Hell’s gut drops, dread creeping up his spine. Beginning? What more could they possibly do?
He’s already been stripped bare, forced onto all fours, treated like a pet, paraded around like a freak... No, he thinks, desperation creeping in. This can’t be happening. Not more. The crowd's screams ring in his ears, taunting him, fuelling his desperation.
He shakes his head, his voice cracking as he speaks, "No. No, it can't. It ends now. Today." He's pleading, even if he doesn't mean to. Cody smiles as he takes his phone out of his pocket "Did we tell you about the feature in the butt plug yet, it’s very interesting"
Cody says as he presses a button on it. Hells eyes go wide as he feels the butt plus resembling a dog tail vibrating. He feels it as it starts to edge him, bringing slowly closer to the orgasm in front of the entire audience. He tries to resist but he lets out a soft moan.
Oh gods, no. No, no, no. This...this isn't...Hell's entire body tenses, his muscles locking up. He shakes his head violently, his face burning brighter than a wildfire. The vibrations, he can't, He's aware of every single person watching, every single set of eyes trained on him, waiting for him to...to... His hands clench into fists, trembling with rage and something else, something worse.
He's being reduced to a mess, right here, right now. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, desperate to hold back, to deny them the satisfaction. The audience roars in delight, ravenous as they watch Hell struggle against the intense pleasure he's forced to feel.
Hell's eyes well up with tears of fury, his eyes wild and panicked. His breaths come short and ragged, his chest heaving. He's past the point of humiliation; this is pure torture. His body begins to betray him, treacherous and weak, as the vibrations push him closer and closer to the edge. He's hyper-aware of every tiny movement, every flutter of sensation, amplifying his shame. The room spins, a chaotic blur of noise and colour. He's lost control, and they're all watching.
He drops to his knees as the edging intensifies, he looks up at the big screen that his pointed at his now rock-hard dick, he can't believe he is hard, and it's being broadcast to the entire world. The crowd begins to laugh.
Helpless, humiliated tears roll down Hell's cheeks as he gazes up at the massive screen displaying his body's betrayal. His mind recoils, revolted by this violation of his very self. But his body doesn't care what he thinks - it's past the point of no return, throbbing and aching under the unrelenting stimulation.
The laughter of the crowd is a knife twisting in his gut, each mocking jeer and pointed finger shredding what little dignity he has left. He wants to curl up, disappear, escape this endless nightmare. But there's nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run.
He's trapped, exposed, and about to completely shatter in front of them all. Cody brings the mic to his lips again as Hook stands in front of Hell. "Tell you what, if you kiss both Hook's ass cheeks, I will turn of the vibrations" Hook rolls down his tights revealing his bare ass inches from Hell’s face.
Hell’s lips curl back, exposing his teeth. He’d rather die. But...but the damn thing won’t stop. It’s driving him insane. His pride screams at him to refuse, to endure whatever comes next rather than submit to such a demeaning act.
Yet...his body is shaking, sweat drips down his face, and his resistance is crumbling. He swallows hard, shame burning through him like acid. He glances up at Hook, then at Cody, who's clearly enjoying every second. The crowd's baying for submission, hungry for his complete surrender. And he...he's so close to breaking.
Hell drops his head resigned and brings his head forward, he kisses his left ass cheek and then his right. as the crowd starts to cheer 'ass kisser' The taste of Hook's skin lingers bitterly on Hell's lips. The crowd's chants of "ass kisser" ring out, echoing off the walls of his skull.
He feels sick, his stomach churning with disgust. He hangs his head, unable to bear looking up. He's never felt so small, so utterly defeated. Even as he hears Cody chuckle, he knows it's far from over. He waits, his heart pounding, for Cody to deactivate the wretched device.
Cody looks down at the phone "Well a deal is a deal" he says while pressing a button. To Hells shock and horror, the edging doesn't stop but the speed intensifies, edging him even harder and faster. "Oh, sorry wrong button" Cody says as him and Hook burst out laughing.
"No! No, you son of a—!" Hell gasps, his body jerking uncontrollably. The sudden surge of pleasure is almost too much, his mind reeling. The laughter—oh, God, the laughter—is like a thousand tiny needles pricking at his skin.
He groans, his fingers digging into the mat, his hips instinctively bucking forward. He's dizzy, overwhelmed, his brain fogging over. The vibrations are relentless, merciless, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He's shaking, panting, completely at their mercy. The word "why" barely escapes his lips, choked by his own despair.
His back arches, he lets out a massive moan and shoots his cum all over the mat, the orgasm is intense, he is catching his breath as he realises, that millions of people have just watched him cum, naked on his knees with a dog tail sticking out of his ass.
Hell collapses forward, forehead smacking against the canvas, his chest heaving. He can’t breathe. He can’t. His face is aflame, his mortification complete. Millions. Millions of people... saw that. Saw him like this. Reduced to a whimpering, writhing mess. A thing.
He squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could vanish, erase himself from existence. The dog tail plug seems to mock him, a constant reminder of his debasement. He curls his fingers into fists, nails digging painfully into his palms. He’s never felt so humiliated, so utterly broken.
As the aftershocks subside, Cody pulls Hell to his feet by the leash, forcing him to face the crowd once more. Their cheers are deafening as Hell stands before them, dripping, exposed, utterly spent. Helpless, Hell staggers upright, the leash digging into his neck.
His knees tremble beneath him, his legs weak and rubbery. He blinks, disoriented, struggling to focus on anything beyond the haze of embarrassment suffocating him. The cacophony of cheers and jeers is deafening, a crushing weight that threatens to crush him.
Every fibre of his being screams at him to hide, to cover himself, to escape. But he stands, numb, his eyes locked on some distant point beyond the sea of jeering faces. He's too exhausted, too shattered, to do anything but endure.
Hook announces "Ladies and Gentlemen, one final act of punishment awaits Hell tonight!" Hell feels a chill run down his spine, dreading what's to come next. One...final...act...?
Hell's heart plummets, his blood running cold. He swallows hard, trying to prepare himself, but there's nothing he can do. He's already been pushed past every boundary, shattered every shred of dignity. But there's more. There's always more.
His palms grow damp, his breaths quickening. He glances wildly around the arena, searching for some kind of escape, some way to avoid whatever Cody and Hook have in store. But it's no use. He's trapped. "W-what?" he whispers, barely audible. "What else could you possibly—?"
"Now as we think of the final punishment before the show ends and you get your freedom back, look at the mess you made" Hook says pointing to the puddle of cum on the mat. "Lick it up he orders" As him and Cody start to speak quietly to each other about his final punishment.
Horror dawns on Hell's features. No, no, no, anything but that. He can't—he won't— He opens his mouth, but only a strangled whimper emerges. His pride, what little remains, screams at him to resist. But they've broken him, worn him down.
He's tired, defeated, and the thought of going through anything else—anything—if he doesn't comply... Resigned, he slowly lowers himself to the mat, the cool surface a stark contrast to the burning heat of his cheeks.
His stomach churns as he hesitates, the stench of his own release filling his nostrils. With a shudder, he begins to lick the mat, his tongue moving mechanically, mechanically, trying to block out the revulsion. "Oh, don't be shy now, get it all!" Hook taunts.
The crowd cheering him on, delighted by this final humiliation. Hell squeezes his eyes shut, tears of humiliation leaking out as he forces himself to continue. He leaves the mat with his tongue again and again, the acrid taste coating his mouth.
Each pass is an exercise in self-loathing, his mind screaming at him to stop, to refuse, but his body betrays him, obeying Hook's cruel command. The cheers of the crowd are like whip cracks on his already raw nerves. He's degraded, debased, and degraded yet again.
He can't wait for this never-ending torment to be over. Just let him curl up and die already. Hook whispers into Cody’s ear, Cody Laughs. "That’s a great idea for his final humiliation" he says while pulling the naked Hell to his feet. Great idea? Great idea?!, Hell thinks.
Panic rises in Hell's throat, choking him. He swallows hard, trying to push past the lump, his eyes darting wildly between Cody and Hook. Their whispers, their laughter, it's all a cruel, sadistic game. And he's the target.
He pulls against the leash, instinctively trying to pull away, but it's no use. His strength's gone, worn down by the relentless assault on his dignity. He's a puppet on strings, dancing to their twisted tune.
"Alright Hell, ready for your final act?" Cody asks sarcastically. Hell looks at him, ready for anything at this point, just wanting this horrific nightmare to end. A silent nod. That's all he manages. His throat's dry, raw from suppressing sobs.
He's past protesting, past fighting. He's numb, hollow. Just...done. He'd agree to anything, do anything, if it means this endless torture ends. He steels himself, bracing for whatever fresh hell—irony not lost on him—Cody and Hook have cooked up.
He stands tall, shoulders squared, a fragile facade of defiance. Inside, he's a mess, a shattered reflection of the person he once was. Cue the suspenseful music as the lights dimmed, Hook and Cody step back, giving Hell centre stage.
A spotlight falls on him. A table with various... items is carried onto the stage. The sudden darkness, the spotlight's harsh glare, it all serves to isolate him further. His eyes lock onto the table, his imagination running wild. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
There's no telling what they've prepared. His imagination conjures up worst-case scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. He feels trapped, cornered, like a rat facing a snake. Whatever is coming, he knows he'll have no choice but to face it. His freedom hangs precariously in the balance.
On the table is two glasses and a dog bowl with dog food beside it. Cody brings the mic to his lips. "The first glass is filled with my piss, the second Hooks piss, and the dog bowl is filled with wet dog, food, you have to consume one of the three, we are going to be nice and let you choose what one you want to consume" Cody says chuckling.
Hell’s mind reels. His gut churns, threatening to revolt. He wants to scream, to lash out, but what good would it do? He’s paralyzed, frozen in a nightmare. Choose. They’re letting him choose. As if that makes it any better. As if that gives him control.
His gaze flicks between the glasses, the bowl, his stomach lurching. He'd rather eat dirt, drink battery acid, anything—but those options aren't on the table.
"W-which...which one would be less..." His voice barely croaks out. Less humiliating? Less vile? It doesn't matter. Every option is a loss. Every option is a degradation.
Hook smirks, "You better hurry up Hell, audience is waiting" Cody nudges him. "Pick one...or we pick for you" he says coldly. Pick one. Pick one. How can they even ask that? Hell trembles, his voice shaking uncontrollably. "I...I..."
He glances desperately at the options, his heart racing faster than ever. He's not given much time, no time to think properly. If he doesn't decide, they'll do it for him, and God knows what they'll choose.
He closes his eyes, his mind racing with the sickening possibilities. "Five seconds to choose one or you will be ordered to consume all three" Hook warns. Five seconds. Just five seconds to damn himself.
Hell's eyes snap open. Panic gives him a boost of adrenaline. With a choked gasp, he blurts out, "The...the dog food! I'll take the dog food!"
Anything but their...waste. He can't bring himself to say it. But the dog food, humiliating as it is, is the 'lesser' of the evils laid out before him. At least it's...food. Sort of. Gods, what have they turned him into...?
Hook and Cody share a cruel smile, pleased with his choice. They move aside and let Hell devour the dog food while the crowd jeers at him, some even throwing popcorn his way. Hell's face burns brighter than a supernova.
He can feel the weight of their amusement, their disgust, their sheer delight in his misery. His hands tremble, hovering above the dog bowl. He feels like an animal, forced to eat from a bowl, surrounded by people who see him as nothing more than a joke.
He crouches, his knees folding beneath him, and gingerly reaches for the dog food. It looks like...like something a real dog would eat. He hesitates, revolted. But the clock's ticking. They're watching. Waiting. The first bite is like lead in his mouth. He chokes, nearly gagging.
It tastes like cardboard and despair. He forces himself to swallow, tears welling up again. He's shovelling it in, trying to ignore the crunchy texture, the smell, the way it sticks to his tongue. He eats faster, just to get it over with.
Popcorn rains down around him, and he flinches, his whole body contracting. It'll be over soon. It has to be. As Hell finishes the disgusting food Cody again begins to speak.
"Three minutes left on Raw. Would you like a chance for redemption. A match, if you win Hook and me, will be your slave for a week, if you lose you will be our slave for the rest of your life. Do you agree to the terms Hell, you can get your sweet revenge" Cody asks.
Redemption... Revenge... Those words echo in his head like a mantra. A chance, however slim, to turn the tables. To make them suffer like he has. To make them bow before him.
Hell's head jerks up, determination burning through the humiliation. For the first time tonight, something other than fear grips him. He straightens his back, his fists clenching so tightly they ache. "Yes," he growls, his voice raw but firm. "I agree. I'll fight you both. And I'll win."
He sounds convincing, even to himself. Maybe, just maybe, all the humiliation, all the degradation, has fuelled something deep inside him – something primal, something fierce. Maybe this is exactly what he needs a chance to prove himself, to prove them wrong.
"I'll take the match." Cody looks around as the referee climbs into the ring. "Good" Cody says. Him and Hook steal a glance at each other. "My final order as your master, that you have to follow, is, lie down on your back and let me pin you" Cody orders to Hell’s shock.
No. No, please, not like this. Not now. Hell's eyes narrow, disbelief warring with despair. This can't be happening. Not after he agreed to the match, to the possibility of redemption.
But Cody's still his master, technically speaking, and that twisted command hangs in the air, suffocating him. "...fuck," Hell whispers, his pride shredded beyond recognition. He feels like he's drowning, sinking deeper into quicksand.
Slowly, mechanically, he lowers himself onto his back, his muscles protesting, his heart screaming. The mat feels cold, unforgiving. He's going to lose before the bell even rings. The shame is crushing him. Cody bends down over the naked Hell, he grabs his leg as the Referee, starts the three counts.
Helpless. That's all he is now. Helpless and humiliated beyond comprehension.
Hell lies there, numb, as Cody's hands grasp his leg, pinning him down. The referee's count echoes in his mind, each number a nail in his coffin. He can't even try to resist, not really. Not when victory was snatched from him so cruelly.
At "3" his eyes slam shut, tears seeping out. He's lost. It's over. The match hadn't even really begun. And now...now he belongs to them. Truly, irrevocably belongs to Cody and Hook. His freedom, his pride, everything - gone. Taken.
He swallows hard, trying to accept the nightmare that is his reality. He's a slave. Their slave. And the crowd devours his defeat hungrily.
The bell rings and the announcer stand up. "Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner, Cody Rhodes. And Hell, former WWE champion is now the property of his new Masters, Hook and Cody Rhodes for the rest of his life"
A roar of cheers and laughter fills the arena, drowning out the sound of Hell's shattered spirit. He can't move, can't breathe. The weight of those words forever crushes him.
His former life is over. The career he built, the respect he earned, all of it gone. He's just a possession now, a slave to their whims. He feels sick, his stomach churning with the reality of his situation.
The referee helps Cody to his feet, and Cody gives the crowd a triumphant grin. Hook saunters over, looking down at Hell with a smirk.
"Welcome to your new life, Hell."
