After the Slavery Laws took place, a lot of industries took advantage of the new laws. Television was no different. Nudity and televised humiliation became common place. The following is some TV programs that implemented the new laws into their product.
Chapter 1 WWE Backlash
It’s Monday night Raw, WWE’s flag ship wrestling show. Former world champion Hell has had an attitude problem since losing the title. He disrespects his fellow wrestlers and the fans of the WWE universe. Raw has started and the camera is rolling.
Hell is walking through the backstage, cameras showing him, he notices Hook and Cody Rhodes wearing just towels, looking at them self in the mirror. "Oh, hey Losers" he says as the camera focuses in.
Cody and Hook have their back to him, not really hearing him. Hell sneaks up and pulls their towels from their waists, leaving them naked in front of the camera, been broadcast to millions of viewers around the world.
Both Cody and Hook quickly spin around, their faces red with embarrassment and shock. They try to cover themselves up, but it’s too late. Hell just laughs, finding their reaction hilarious. He smirks at the camera, knowing he’s just caused a huge stir.
“What’s wrong, boys? It’s not like you’ve got anything to hide… or anything at all, for that matter.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You should see your faces right now. Priceless.”
Hook flips Hell off, before storming out of the room, still naked, trying to grab his towel off the floor, but failing, while Cody chases after him, his bare ass wiggling and caught on camera. "Damn Hell!" Cody yells as he follows.
Hell holds up the towel, smirking. "Oh, you're gonna need this? Sorry, too slow, Cody. Maybe if you're lucky, Hook will let you borrow his... well, actually, he stormed off without anything, huh? Sucks to be you both." He snickers, dangling the towel just out of Cody's reach.
"And don't think I'm done with you two yet. This is far from over." He winks at the camera, clearly enjoying every minute of this.
Later on, during the Raw event Hell comes out to give a promo, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the most talented wrestler on the roster is here" he boasts as the crowd boos. He grins, basking in the negative energy of the crowd.
“Ah, that’s right, folks. Boo all you want. At least I’m not the ones whose privates were broadcasted worldwide, huh?” chuckles darkly “I mean, poor Cody and Hook” leans in, voice dropping “Bet they’re still blushing. winks at the camera but hey, they should be grateful. They got more views than our ratings usually do.”
As Hell begins to speak again, Cody Rhodes and Hooks entrance Music plays. Hell’s eyes narrow, his grin faltering slightly. He tilts his head, confused, as the music hits. He glances around, realizing what’s about to happen. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. This should be interesting.
"Well, well, well. Look who's here. If it isn't the two nudists themselves, Hook and Cody Rhodes. Come to cause some more... commotion?" Hell smirks, clearly enjoying the tension. Hook confidently strides towards Hell, ready for a fight. Cody stops Hook with a hand on his arm.
"Hold up, Hook." Cody says calmly. Hell rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed. He crosses his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Oh, a calm one, huh? That's unexpected. You're not gonna let your buddy here punch me into oblivion? He looks pretty fired up. What's the plan, Cody? You gonna tell me to death?" He scoffs, leaning forward slightly. His eyes glitter dangerously.
"You're not scared, are you? You're not gonna back down like Hook did earlier, right? Right?" Cody walks down to the ring. He calmly gets into it and walks up to Hell. They are face to face. He picks up the mic.
"Do you know what Hell, you humiliated us, I'm not happy about that, so I am going to challenge you to a match, in front of the 60,000 here and the millions watching at home. The loser becomes the others slave for a week" Cody challenges.
Hell cracks his knuckles, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Oh, you're making this personal, Cody? Music to my ears. You really think you can take me down?" He laughs, shaking his head.
"You're on, Cody. I accept your little challenge. And when I win, you're gonna be my personal slave... for a whole week. Just imagine it... you scrubbing my feet, serving me drinks, doing my bidding." He chuckles darkly, clearly confident in his abilities.
"But hey, if you manage to pull off a miracle, then you and Hook here get to boss me around. Either way, this is gonna be fun." Hell finishes.
"Ok, next week at Backlash we will go one on one, with the others freedom on the line" Cody announces. Hell's smirk widens, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. He nods, his movements fluid, radiating confidence.
"Next week, Backlash. Got it. I'll be there, ready to crush you. And don't think I'll go easy on you just because... well, you know, you're already pretty vulnerable after earlier. Vulnerable is a good look for you, by the way." He shrugs, clearly enjoying the prospect of the match.
"Hey, Cody? Make sure you're warmed up. You don't want to embarrass yourself even more, right?" He sticks his tongue out playfully, knowing he's just added fuel to the fire.
One week later, Cody and Hell stand in front of each other in the ring waiting for the bell to ring, Hook has accompanied Cody to the ring and is stood outside. The referee nods to the official and the bell rings.
Hell, springs into action, charging straight at Cody. He doesn’t plan on wasting any time. His eyes blaze with competitiveness, and he’s determined to prove himself once again. He swings his fist, aiming for Cody’s jaw, his grin fierce.
"You're going down, Rhodes. And when I'm done, you'll be on your knees, begging to be my slave!" he shouts, his words echoing throughout the arena. Cody manages to dodge Hell's punch, quickly grabbing him and reversing the momentum to send Hell stumbling backwards.
Cody's agility and experience showing. Hell stumbles, caught off guard by Cody's speed and agility. He recovers quickly, however, his pride stung by being outmanoeuvred. His expression hardens, his lips curling into a snarl. He circles Cody warily, trying to gauge his next move.
"You're faster than I thought, Cody. But it'll take more than that." Hell, feints high, then drops down, attempting to sweep Cody's legs out from under him. His eyes burn with intensity, refusing to lose this match.
Hell avoids a clothesline from Cody and suplexs him, he picks him up and gives him a DDT, Cody is lying prone on the mat. Hell smirks, kneeling down beside Cody, who's struggling to get back up. He grabs Cody's hair, lifting his head up.
"You're not doing so hot, are ya, Cody? Maybe you should start thinking about... serving me." He hisses, making sure Cody hears him loud and clear. He releases Cody's hair, letting his head thump back onto the mat.
He glances over at Hook, who's watching anxiously outside the ring. Hell gives him a taunting thumb-up. As the referee is looking after Cody, Hook rolls into the ring and hits Hell with a steel chair knocking him to the ground, Hook quickly slides out of the ring before the referee notices.
Hell's eyes widen in shock, his vision blurring from the sudden impact. He hits the mat hard, chair-touched, his ear ringing. He groans, trying to shake off the dizziness. The crowd erupts, sensing an upset.
Hell's face twists with anger, realizing what just happened. He tries to sit up, but his head spins. He's momentarily stunned, completely caught off guard. Cody Rhodes walks over picks up Hell and delivers the Cross Rhodes, his finisher and pins Hell, the referee starts the three counts
Hell's eyes roll back as Cody delivers the decisive blow. He's too stunned, too disoriented to stop it. The force of the cross Rhodes sends him crashing down, his body limp. He barely feels the pin, only dimly aware of the ref's count.
One...
Two...
It's over. Hell lost. He's...he's going to be Cody's slave. The thought sends his mind reeling, even as the ref's hand slaps the mat for the third time.
Three.
Hook rolls into the ring and looks at Cody, they celebrate together and then look at down at Hell on the ground. The walk to his feet and start to unlace his boots and pull them off revealing his bare feet.
They then pull the shirt of his back and pull down his tights, he is left in just a jock strap, Hook then digs his fingers into the waist band and pulls the Jock strap off, leaving him naked in front of 60,000 people in the arena and millions watching at home
Hell lies motionless, his face burning with shame, humiliation, and disbelief. He tries to cover himself, instinctively curling into a ball, but Hook and Cody aren’t having it. They’ve won, and they’re going to rub it in. The crowd is deafening, laughing, jeering, and cheering all at once.
It’s a cacophony of cruelty, and Hell is its focal point. The realization slowly sets in, he’s naked, helpless, and about to be someone else’s property for an entire week. His fists clench, his teeth grind, but he can’t escape.
"Looks like someone can't handle the pressure when it matters most." Cody taunts Hell while the crowd continues to chant "SLAVE!”
Hell's face contorts, a red flush spreading across his cheeks. He grits his teeth, seething with fury. He's never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. The chanting of the crowd, the endless slave, slave, slave, it's like a knife twisting in his gut.
He glares up at Cody, his pride shattered, his arrogance stripped away. He wants to scream, yell, fight back, but he's paralyzed, frozen in this mortifying moment.
Hook barks out a laugh and pushes Hell onto his back, then stands on Hell's chest with one foot while keeping his other foot firmly on the ground. "This is the perfect view for your new slave.”
Hell gasps, feeling the pressure of Hook's weight bearing down on him. His face flushes bright red, his humiliation complete. The crowd loves it, screaming louder, feeding off his distress. He squeezes his eyes shut, unable to bear the thought of what's happening.
The weight of Hook's boot feels like a crushing weight, pinning him down, trapping him. He swallows hard, refusing to give them the satisfaction of tears or begging. He's trapped, powerless, and utterly defeated.
Hook bends down and removes his boots, he is stood barefoot over Hell, Hook looks at Cody who picks up the mic, "Lick Hooks sweaty feet clean" he orders. Hell's eyes snap open, wide with horror. He shakes his head frantically, his mouth dry, his heart pounding in his chest.
This is not what he signed up for. He's a wrestler, not some kind of...pet. But Cody's voice cuts through his protests, sharp and commanding. He hesitates, his pride screaming at him to resist, to fight back. But something in him knows he can't. Not anymore. He's a slave now. And slaves obey.
He reluctantly turns his head towards Hook's bare feet, his stomach churning. This isn't happening. This isn't real. Hell drags his tongue up Hook's big toe, a mix of revulsion and bitterness colouring his expression. The crowd eats it up, loud with each lick and groan.
Hook grins, clearly savouring every second of Hell's degradation. Each lick is like a punch to Hell's ego, each sound from the crowd like salt in his wounds. His tongue moves mechanically, trying to block out the sensation, the smell, the taste.
His eyes burn with hatred, but he keeps going, forced to clean every inch of Hook's sweaty feet. Every slurp, every flick of his tongue, every involuntary gag, is broadcast live to the entire world. He's never felt so dehumanized.
As he is licking Hooks foot, he feels a warm liquid splash on his head, he looks up and is blinded as Hook is pissing on his face. Hell recoils, blinded by the warm liquid, his mouth hanging open in shock. The stench hits him immediately, making him gag.
He tries to turn away, but Hook’s feet are still above him, trapping him beneath his humiliating onslaught. The crowd explodes, clearly delighted by the spectacle. Hell’s hands ball into tight fists, trembling with rage, shame, and disgust.
He’s being urinated on, like a dog, right in front of everyone. He closes his eyes, tears welling up despite himself. The humiliation finally stops when Hook finishes, he steps off of Hell and offers his hand to help him up, still grinning widely.
Hell, slowly opens his eyes, his face dripping, his dignity demolished. He swallows hard, his throat dry. He's lightheaded, his mind reeling from the utter violation. When Hook offers his hand, Hell stares at it warily, unsure if it's genuine or another cruel trick.
His chest heaves, anger and resentment simmering beneath the surface. But what choice does he have? He's not one to stay down forever. With reluctance, he reaches out, grasping Hook's hand, allowing himself to be pulled up.
His eyes never leave Hook's, blazing with defiance, yet tainted by his crushing defeat. "That's more like it." Hook says, still smiling smugly as he helps Hell to his feet. Hell stands tall, despite everything. His body stiff, his jaw clenched. He can't believe he's letting them treat him like this.
But he forces himself to nod, a tiny, stiff movement. Anything to save face. A muscle twitches in his cheek, betraying his fury. He won't forget this. Ever. His eyes narrow, burning holes into Hook's grin. "More like what?" he growls, his voice barely controlled.
"More like accepting your place," Hook replies, unbothered by Hell's anger, then motions Cody over to handcuff Hell's wrists together behind his back. Hell’s anger surges, but it’s nothing compared to the desperation clawing at his chest.
He tugs at the handcuffs, testing their grip, finding them secure. This is really happening, he realizes, his breaths coming faster. He glances around, searching for some way out, some escape. But there’s none. He’s trapped, cuffed, and completely at their mercy.
He turns back to Hook, his words laced with venom. “Place? You think this is my place?” He spits at Hook’s feet, a futile act of rebellion. The crowd’s amusement only fuels his rage. Cody shakes his head.
"You got spit on Hooks beautiful bare feet, guess your back to licking" he says as he pushes Hell to his knees, motioning for him to lick the spit of his feet. Hell's face contorts in disgust. He can't believe what he's being made to do. Again. He's trapped, forced to submit.
He glares at Cody, then at Hook, his anger simmering just below the surface. With slow, deliberate movements, he lowers himself, his tongue extending against his will. He closes his eyes, trying to disconnect from the degrading act, but every fibre of his being rebels.
This isn't right. He's not meant to be someone's foot slave. He's Hell, for crying out loud! Hook stands over Hell as he cleans the spit from his feet, placing a foot on Hell's shoulder for better leverage.
Hell's entire body tenses, his fingers digging into the palm of his cuffed hands. He's being treated like a disposable tool, forced to kneel and scrape like a servant. The foot on his shoulder feels like a weight crushing his spirit, reminding him of his powerlessness.
He swallows hard, humiliation burning through him like acid. Every second feels like an eternity, every lick a betrayal. He's trapped, stuck in this never-ending cycle of degradation. He's certain he's never hated anyone more than Hook, right now.
After several more degrading moments later, Hook finally steps back and addresses the crowd, "Who wants to see Hell learn some manners?" The crowd cheers and hollers, eager to see more.
Hell's ears burn, his face aflame with embarrassment. He feels sick, his stomach churning from the repeated humiliation. He wants to scream, to lash out, but he’s utterly helpless. The crowd’s cries ring in his ears, taunting him, revelling in his misery.
He hangs his head, his eyes burning holes into the ground. This can’t be happening, he thinks, over and over, refusing to accept the reality. He’s Hell, a fighter, a winner. He shouldn’t be on his knees, licking feet, being degraded for entertainment.
"Since you are on your knees licking, there is some of my piss still on the mat, lick it up" Hook orders him. A low growl escapes Hell's lips, his pride fragmented, shattered pieces scattering around him. His knees dig deeper into the mat, unwillingly obeying.
His tongue, already numb from the earlier torment, curls in revulsion. He can't believe this is his life now following commands, cleaning piss like a worthless serf. But he's cornered. Defeated. He hesitates, just for a second, before his tongue touches the mat.
He starts lapping, each movement a surrender, leaving behind any shred of defiance. The taste is vile, bitter, and he struggles not to retch. The crowd laughs, and Hell wants to die.
Once Hell had licked up the last bit of urine from the mat, Hook pulls out a dog collar and leash from his pocket and approaches Hell. "This is how slaves should look.” Hell's vision narrows, fixating on the dog collar. His mind goes blank, refusing to process what's happening.
A leash. For him. Like he's some kind of animal. The implication sends his mind reeling. He shakes his head wildly, backing away, the chain of the handcuffs rattling behind him. He opens his mouth to protest, but his voice cracks. He swallows hard, trying again.
"No. No way." His voice is barely above a whisper, shaking with fear and resistance. "I'm not...a dog." He won't be reduced to that. He can't. He's a wrestler, damn it! "Oh yes, you are." Hook grins, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face. "Now put it on." Hook orders, holding out the collar.
Hell seethes, his pride in shreds. He glares at Hook, hatred radiating from every pore. But the command echoes coldly in his mind. Put it on. He has no choice. His chin trembles, once, before he rips himself together.
But he can’t put it on with his hands cuffed behind his back. He looks at Hook who bursts into laughter. He reaches down and puts the leash around Hell’s neck. The cool metal feels vile against his skin as he buckles it around his neck.
Each click of the lock is a surrender, a defeat that echoes through him. The leash dangles, a constant reminder of his new station. He wants to scream, to tear free, but instead, he awaits Hook's next order, his soul heavy with bitter resignation.
Hook leads Hell out of the ring by the leash, the crowd going wild as Hell follows unwillingly, humiliated and defiant. Hell's face is a deep crimson, his eyes blazing with furious tears he refuses to let fall. He's forced to trail behind Hook like a pet, each step a fresh jab to his wounded ego.
His humiliated snarls and muttered curses are drowned out by the cacophony of the crowd, who seem to be relishing every second of his degradation. His fists clench, shaking violently, the dog collar digging into his skin like a symbol of his defeat.
He's never been so ashamed. So angry. So completely at someone else's mercy. Cody picks up the mic "Next week on Raw we will finish Hell’s humiliation" Cody says as he drops the mic, they pull Hell naked by the leash out of the arena as the crowd roars
Hell's face flames brighter, his humiliation complete. The roar of the crowd follows him like a living thing, echoing in his mind even after they've dragged him out. He's numb, disbelieving. This isn't how his story ends.
He's Hell. He's a champion. He's not some...some... pet being led around naked, waiting for more torment. Next week. They're already planning more. He tugs futilely at the leash, his chest constricting. He's trapped, and they're going to tear him apart, piece by piece.
