Anna Kournikova Vs The Detroit Redwings

Anna Kournikova vs. The Detroit Redwings

*That stupid Sergy!* Anna Kournikova fumed to herself as she
pushed her way past the security guards stationed in front of the
locker room doors.
"Hey, little lady, you can’t go back there!" one guard caught her
arm.
"You let go of me now, asshole!" Anna barked, her accent always
much thicker when she was angry. "Or I will have you fired from your
stupid job and begging on the streets."
"Listen, little lady, I don’t know who the hell you think you are
…"the
guard was getting angry now, too, and he tightened the grip on
the tennis teen-queen’s muscular arm.
"I am Anna Kournikova!" she snapped back, tearing her arm from
his grip and savagely kicking him in the balls. "Who are YOU?!" she
sneered as the guard buckled to the ground amid the shocked stares
of countless spectators and a whole host of security guards. "What
the fucking you are staring at?" her accent not only got thicker when
she lost her temper, but her grammar skills went to hell, too. "Fuck
you all on your mothers!" she shouted before storming past the last
bewildered guard and into the corridor that led to the Redwings’
locker room.
*How dare he!* she fumed. *How dare he let me be humiliated so!
The stupid oaf. He is only good for one thing. He is very famous and
he looks good as my boyfriend. But that is all. How dare he let me
be insulted so!* She kicked open the door at the end of the hall and
marched into the team’s locker room as if she owned it.
She was greeted by shocked stares, some of them embarrassed even.
Grown men stood around naked, their cocks hanging low and unfettered,
and the seventeen-year-old beauty that suddenly stormed into the
lockerroom put them momentarily at a loss. Her face was flushed and
her silkyblond hair was shimmering in the fluorescent lighting. She
was wearing a tight black top and a disturbingly short black tennis
skirt. Her entire magnificent, young body was bronzed with a deep
copper tan, the best money could buy. Her breasts were tucked inside
her tight, black, zipper-down top like silent storm clouds just before
it rained.
She was the sexiest, most beautiful vision of loveliness the
players had ever seen, and she was standing before their exposed
bodies looking like Venus, the goddess of love herself. Cocks started
springing to life in seconds, jutting out from the players’ crotches
like diving boards. A few made a move to cover their arousal, most did
not, some even yanked on their hard pricks trying to catch the little
slut’s eye, until they heard Number 91’s voice.
"Anna! What do you do here?" Sergei Federov burst through the
throng of players and stormed up to where Anna glared sharp, icy
daggers at him. "Anna you must leave now!"
"I’m not leaving until you buy me a pearl necklace!" Anna
screeched so everyone in the locker room could hear her. "That bitch
Martina was bragging to everyone today how her boyfriend gave her a
pearl necklace last night while they were in bed, and then that black
bitch Venus asks me: ‘Anna, does your Sergei give you pearl necklaces,
too?’ And when I say, ‘No,’ they all laugh at me .. at me, Anna
Kournikova. And all because you stupid Sergei will not give me pearl
necklace. I want pearl necklace … expensive pearl necklace … most
expensive money can buy, so that I can show bitches Martina and Venus
and all the other bitches. I want pearl necklace, and I want it now!
Do you hear me, stupid Sergy."
Brendan Shanahan, the team’s left wing, couldn’t help but snicker
as he heard the bratty, seventeen-year-old beauty demand a "pearl
necklace." His outburst uncorked a round of similar chortles which
suddenly erupted into a chorus of belly laughs when Bob Rouse raised
his voice into a girlish tone and mocked: "Come on, Sergggy, give me a
pearl necklace right now. I need one so bad I can taste it!"
"Fuck yourself off!" Anna snapped back at Rouse, as the team
laughed even harder at the teen queen’s awkward English and sharp
accent.
"You are embarrassing me," Sergei grabbed Anna by the arm and
tried to direct her towards the locker room door. "We will discuss
this later …"
"Now, stupid Sergy," she twisted herself out of his grasp and
slapped him square in the face … in front of everyone. "We will
talk about this now."
The guys all turned away uncomfortably now. What had been
amusing was now turning ugly and humiliating for their star center.
No man liked to see another man pussy whipped by his girlfriend,
especially when she was a seventeen-year-old bratty cunt like Anna
Kournikova. Sergei’s face burned with her egregious assault upon
his masculinity. Half of him wanted to cry like a baby, and the other
half wanted to take the little cunt by her blonde hair, throw her to
the ground and ram his cock down her teenage throat.
"So this is what you are now doing?" she berated him. "Standing
there like a stupid oaf. You will be saying you are sorry, Sergy.
Apologize to me for making me look so stupid in front of those bitches
and promise to get me my pearl necklace," she demanded, stamping her
foot for punctuation and thrusting out her perfectly-sculpted young
body to show him just what he would be casting aside if he failed to
comply with her ultimatum.
"Come on, Serg," Steve Yzerman suddenly interrupted from behind
one of the locker. "The lady wants a pearl necklace, so why don’t you
give her one .. right now." More men snickered and looked away,
afraid to meet Sergei’s eyes. The star center grinned darkly and
turned back
to Anna.
"Please, darling …" he began.
"What did you say?" Anna burst out, pushing past her Russian boy-
toy and confronting Yzerman directly.
"I told him to give you the necklace right now," Yzerman managed
to say with a straight face. "He’s got one waiting for you. Guys
here in the States always have ‘pearl necklaces’ ready to give their
pretty girlfriends. Sergy’s just been holding out on you, that’s all.
He probably wanted to surprise you when no one was around. Guys get
embarrassed displaying that kind of affection in public. You know,
it’s a ‘guy thing,’" he tried to keep a straight face.
"Is that true, Sergy?" Anna whirled back to her dumbfounded boy-
toy. "Do you have pearl necklace for me that you have not given me?"
She didn’t sound like she was going to take ‘No’ for an answer. "If
you do, you must give it to me, right now, in front of all your
friends and show them how much you love me."
"You don’t understand, Anna," Sergei tried to make her listen.
"The guys are kidding with you …"
"Are you kidding with me?" Anna snapped back at Yzerman.
"Honey, a guy would never kid about a thing like that. We all
got pearl necklaces just waiting to be given away. I got one right
now as a matter of fact."
"You do?" Anna’s blue-green eyes lit up like fireworks. "You
have pearl necklace you could give me right now?"
"Anna …" Sergei stepped forward, trying to quash the joke
before it went any further.
"Shut up, stupid Sergy," she snarled, cutting him off. "If you
do not have pearl necklace to give me. I will have to find new
boyfriend who does. Maybe this one?" she pointed to Yzerman and
flashed a smile that would halt a Panzer division.
"Hey, Anna, I’ve got me a pearl necklace I could give you, too,"
Rouse shot in. "And mine may be even bigger than Yzerman’s."
"I know for a fact mine is bigger," Aaron Ward piped up, "and
better. I’d love to give it to you if you’d be my girlfriend."
Seconds later, all the Redwings were volunteering to present Anna
with pearl necklaces befitting her royal status as the sports’ worlds
reigning beauty queen. She was positively basking in the glow of all
this male worship, and sadistically flaunting her young, coltish body
before the naked men, watching as her giggles and girlish gestures
made their thick meaty cocks rise in teasing torture.
"I don’t know who I can choose," she cooed as she admired all
the glistening naked bodies almost prostrating themselves before
her. "I will see who has the nicest, most valuable necklace, and he
can be my new boyfriend." She stuck out her tongue at Sergei, who
by this time had decided to let the arrogant adolescent learn her
lesson … the hard way.
"I have an idea," Yzerman smiled. "Why don’t you kneel on the
ground like a princess accepting her crown, and each guy can come up
and present you his necklace, you know, spread it around your .. neck
.. and then you can decide who has the best one after every guy has
gone. How does that sound?"
"I will do this," Anna giggled, kneeling to the floor and
sticking out her awesome chest in anticipation of the ceremony.
"Please go ahead," she ordered like she really was a princess and
these hung studs were her slavering subjects.
"Close your eyes, princess," Yzerman told her. "That way when
you see my necklace, it will really be a surprise." She did as she
was told, scrunching her eyes shut like a little girl blowing out
candles on a birthday cake. "Now open your mouth, too," Yzerman
instructed as he gripped his hard, eight-inch cock and began pumping
it inches from Anna’s unsuspecting face.
"Why do I open my mouth?" Anna asked in a puzzled voice.
"Don’t you know how to test pearls?" Yzerman quipped. "You rub
them against your teeth to see if their real. If they’re smooth,
they’re fake."
"Oh," she giggled and opened her mouth. "Please rub them across
my teeth so I can see if they’re real."
"Oh, they’re real all right," Yzerman could barely contain a
bellylaugh as he inched his bloated cock-head towards Anna’s perfect
white teeth and then rubbed the soft skin against her left incisor.
"What?!" the teen tennis cunt realized something was amiss
immediately. She opened her eyes and gasped in horror as Yzerman
guided the plum-sized helmet of his prick into her startled mouth.
She gagged instantly as the thick, serpent-like member slid along her
tongue. She tried to draw back, but his hand was placed firmly at the
back of her head holding her face a helpless hostage to the assault.
"Unnghhh" she grunted, trying to scream for help, but her only reply
was a chorus of cheers from the other guys in the locker room. In
vain, she sought out Sergei — *He will save me from this!* — but
when she found her boyfriend’s eyes they were as cold and
compassionless as the old statues of Lenin she used to gaze up at when
she was a small girl.
"You wanted your pearl necklace," Yzerman growled as he stuffed
even more if his cock into her weeping mouth. "Now your going to have
to earn it, you little cock-teasing, teenage cunt. Suck me, bitch.
Suck that thick hard cock until it sprays a pearl necklace all over
that pretty little stuck-up face of yours, you fucking slut."
Tears poured down Anna’s violated face as she strove to
accommodate the first cock she’d ever had thrust between her succulent
lips. Sergei had always wanted her to perform this lewd act, but she
had always refused. It was the act of a street whore, not a young
lady; but now she was performing exactly like the common street whores
she had always seen and looked down upon in her native land. She,
Anna Kournikova, the queen of sports starlets, was sucking a big fat
cock like the lowliest 20 ruble whore. To her horror, then she
noticed the rest of the team lined up behind Yzerman, each man
stroking his member in a seemingly endless procession of cocks growing
larger and more fearsome with every passing second.
"Here it comes, cunt!" Yzerman spat in her face as he withdrew
his enraged prick, pressed the quivering pisshole against her chin,
and then let loose with a stringy volley of hot spunk which he rubbed
across her neck. "There’s your pearl necklace, bitch. How do you
like that? Is it big enough and shiny enough for you?"
As she wept in shame, the guys all laughed, and she saw Sergei
smile sadistically. She knew now he would do nothing to save her from
being further violated, and she used the momentary lull to attempt an
escape. Strong hands appeared form nowhere, and wrestled her back down
to the floor, pinning her back to the cold tile and tearing away her
short black skirt and tight black top. More cheers erupted when the
savage team drank in the absolute perfection of her teenage tits
cupped inside the sweltering cups of a lacy black bra. The hook and
straps were quickly snapped into tatters, and her tanned, firm tits
became the playthings for what seemed a hundred rough, ruthless hands.
She tried to kick away, but her legs were immobilized by two
pairs of strong arms that lifted them off the floor while another
set of callused hands worked off her black silk panties. More hands
then found her silky, blonde pussy, and she squirmed like a she-wolf
caught in a bear-trap as countless fingers probed the most tender
confines of her tight teenage pussy and quivering ass-hole. Then the
cocks reappeared at her sobbing mouth, jabbing themselves down into
her gasping throat and choking the fight out of her hard, toned,
athletic body.
Anna barely put up a struggle as the minutes stretched into
infinity, feeling her sinewy thighs spread apart like a wishbone, her
helpless teenage pussy coaxed to wetness by skillful tongues, rough
fingers, and the sensation of hard cock-meat tickling her clit,
teasing her, forcing her to open herself to the invasion, to invite
the assault that suddenly blitzkreiged up her sopping-wet,
seventeen-year-old snatch. With one cock blazing inside her cunt,
another crammed up to her tonsils and countless hands molesting and
molding her rape-ravaged body like malleable, fleshy clay, she came to
the conclusion she could do nothing to stop the fuck storm that raged
outside and now inside her young, strong, utterly dominated body.
She bucked her hips up to meet the anonymous ten-inch cock
now skewering her hole; she sucked with wild abandon the fuck-stick
jabbing at her tonsils; she swooned with the sensation of yet another
hot, pearl necklace adorning her bronze neck and boobies. Maybe being
a whore wasn’t so bad after all …

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