Alexander "Alex" Ulrich: Going for the Gold
18 Jul 2023 2208 readers Score 9.7 (79 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt
Author's Note: This is the third of nine chapters of the story that The Face and I collaborated on together. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 3
Blackmailing A Pretty Boy
Alexander “Alex” Ulrich exited the Uber in front of the midtown Manhattan building. He was carrying an 8 x 11” manilla envelope containing a thick wad of enlarged photos. When he had received them, his first thought was that Wyle Connors was trying to avenge his humiliation at the recent Olympic trials. The photos showed Ulrich in a variety of holds from his down low underground wrestling matches. He had agreed to be squashed a few times and had let his opponent put him into some humiliating positions. One showed his ripped body tied up in the ropes. Another had him upside down with his calves hooked over the top ropes in a tree of woe. There was a pic of Alex’s face being scissored into another wrestler’s crotch. Still another had his legs rolled up and over and spread wide by an opponent in a spladle.
None of this would have bothered Alex except the photos he had received were photo-shopped so Alex and his opponents were naked. And Alex’s actual face had been superimposed on his masked face. In the scissors-to-crotch photo, Alex’s face was pressed into his opponent’s balls. In another, Alex was schoolboy pinned and his opponent’s long floppy cock lay on Alex’s pretty face. One photo had an opponent laying on Ulrich’s back appearing to be fucking Alex doggy style. That photo showed a glimpse of the opponent’s hard cock appearing to penetrate Alex’s hole. Several photos showed Ulrich’s cock—or someone’s cock—nestled in light brown pubic curls. Those pics suggested Alex had a good-sized cut dick, maybe 7 or 8”. The truth, Alex knew, was less impressive.
An anonymous note clipped to the photos had directed Ulrich to the 34th floor of this building. There was a threat the photos would be sent to the US Olympic Committee and released on social media sites if Alex failed to show up. As he took the elevator up, Ulrich prepared to confront the asshole who was apparently trying to embarrass him or worse have him removed from the team just a month before the Olympic games. The elevator door opened, and Ulrich saw the large sign in the hallway that read “Tri-State Wrestling Federation Executive Offices.” Alex had heard about the TSWF but had never wrestled for the organization. He knew most of the live matches ended in nudity and post-match ‘stakes.’ As a straight male, he had his limits and nudity not to mention blow jobs and fucking other males were well beyond them. But why, he wondered, had the TSWF sent him the package of photo-shopped pictures?
Ulrich entered a suite of offices with an empty receptionist desk. He saw that one office door was ajar. It bore the name “Dandy Dawson, Chief Executive.” He approached it and rapped hard. “Yes,” came a male voice inside, “Is that you, Mr. Ulrich?” Jesus, Ulrich thought, how did the guy know it was him? He hadn’t made an appointment. He had just shown up. But Alex hadn’t seen the camera in the lobby corner. “Yeah, it’s me,” Ulrich responded in perturbed voice. He opened the door and marched to the desk where a silver-haired man in his 50s leaned back in his chair. “What’s the fucking meaning of these?” demanded the Olympic wrestler, as he held out the manila envelope. “Ahhhh, I see you received our little package. I thought they might have…some persuasive effect,” said TSWF promoter Dandy Dawson. “Persuasive effect?” Alex almost spitted, “They’re fucking fakes. I’ve never wrested in the nude. You or someone working for you is trying to…trying to make it look like I did and cause a scandal just weeks away from the Olympics.” “Now, now, Mr. Ulrich, or can I call you Alex?” asked Dawson, “There’ll be no scandal if you’re willing to play ball. And I will make it very lucrative financially for you.” “Lucrative?” Alex said, somewhat in disbelief. “Yes, I’m willing to pay you a $50,000 fee in return for your agreement to wrestle as…I’ll think of a name for you…in a single TSWF match.”
Ulrich’s jaw dropped. $50,000 was a lot of money. He hadn’t made a fraction of that amount in all of his underground wrestling matches and modeling shoots. He asked “But why me? And why the sex-tortion…these fake photos?” “Carrot and stick, my boy. The fee is the carrot but the possible release of the photos on the eve of the Olympics is the stick.” Alex felt his bile rise. He wanted to throttle the silver-haired promoter. But he felt a bit trapped. And the fee was, well, generous. Alex thought, maybe, just maybe, he could wrestle in one match, collect his fee and keep everything under wraps before the Olympic games. He finally said “Ok, but only if we work out an agreement with clear limitations.”
Dawson had been studying Alex’s face and body. At 5’11, 205 pounds, the young alpha heel had that effect on men and women. They just couldn’t take their eyes off him. Today, he was wearing a white tank top and gray gym shorts. The tank revealed the valley between his smooth 48” pecs. The promoter imagined Alex double bi-flexing his 18” ceps. He admired Ulrich’s upper torso and how it tapered down in a perfect “V” shape to the young man’s 32” waist and his big muscled 33” quads. He resisted the strong impulse to ask Alex to turn around so he could observe the wrestler’s bubble butt and hamstrings.
“Most definitely, Alex,” said Dawson. He rose and walked around his desk to where Ulrich stood. “My name is Dawson…Dandy Dawson, the promoter of the Fed. Well, I guess, you know that.” He put his right hand on Alex’s left shoulder “Let’s get down to work, shall we?”
Two hours passed…. Sitting opposite each other at Dawson’s desk, the men hammered out an agreement with several requirements and restrictions. The deal provided for a clean match with normal wrestling rules. There would be no illegal holds or tactics; no choking; no twisting of fingers, arms, toes or feet; no striking of an opponent with an elbow or knee; no head butting; no pulling of hair; no pinching or biting. Any holds on the head, arms or legs, likely to cause injury to the vertebrae or joints were prohibited. No grabbing or twisting of any genitals was to be permitted. No foreign objects were allowed in the ring. The match would be decided by a pin fall, with both shoulders on the mat for a count of three, or a submission. Any attempt to knock out an opponent by a sleeper or otherwise would result in immediate disqualification. The match would not entail any sexual acts whatsoever. Any conduct that seemed sexual in nature would result in immediate disqualification. And, most importantly, there would be no post-match ‘stakes’, including neither blow jobs nor anal sex.
Somewhat brazenly, Ulrich had demanded a higher fee of $100,000, which Dawson had grudgingly agreed to pay on condition that, once the contract was signed, Alex would be subject to a penalty of 10 times his fee or $1,000,000, if he tried to back out of the deal.
In return for the higher fee and match rules, Alex had agreed to wear golden metallic squared trunks, along with gold wristbands, kneepads and boots. (To disguise his identity, he would wear a matching golden mask.) At Dawson’s insistence, Alex agreed that both he and his opponent, on the morning of the match, would undergo manscaping and grooming at a salon arranged for him by the TSWF. While Ulrich didn’t like the idea of some stranger shaving his body, he accepted the demand as long as the Fed footed the bill. He also agreed that a stylist could apply golden highlights to his curly brown hair. Reluctantly, Alex agreed to perform a pre-match posting routine for the spectators and, rather stupidly, to the ring being completely enclosed in a metal cage with a locked door and top panel preventing either wrestler from escaping. The cage requirement was expressly conditioned on the wrestling match being refereed by a “legitimate” and “impartial” bona fide referee.
Strangely, the one point not discussed was the identity of Alex’s opponent. Ulrich didn’t ask, and Dandy didn’t volunteer other than to mention the other wrestler would also be wearing a mask and be from approximately the same weight class as Ulrich.
When they had reached a “handshake” deal, Dawson promised to have the contract typed up and ready for signature in a few days’ time. The match would occur one week later in the Bay Ridge Arena. Dandy knew he needed at least one more week to make sure Wyle Connors was well-trained for the match. Alex rose from his chair opposite Dandy’s desk and said “I’ll send you my wiring instructions so you can send one-half of my fee to my bank account before the match.” “Of course, don’t worry,” replied the promoter, adding “Before you leave, I do have one final request, which I hope you’ll not find too presumptuous.”
Ulrich arched his brow—asking in a cocky tone of voice “What’s that Dandy….you don’t mind me calling you by your first name, I assume?” “No, not at all,” said the promoter. “I’ll need you to strip down and pose a bit so I can make sure your body matches what I’ve seen in the photos.” “Are you fucking kidding?” replied Ulrich, his suspicions aroused. He said incredulously “We just agreed there will be nothing of a sexual nature in the match, and right away you want me to strip down for you?” “Calm down, Alex, it’s no big deal. It’s no different from checking under the hood of a car before you buy it. Anyway, we both know you’re an exhibitionist of sorts. And underground wrestling—even if done in gear—isn’t exactly done for an audience of straight men. It’s kind of gay-for-pay for a straight guy such as yourself. You kind of get off making us gays feel like subs in awe of your physique.”
“Wow,” replied Alex, “You’ve really psychoanalyzed me, haven’t you?” Dawson smirked “No, I just know your type. You really do want to undress before me and make me feel inferior to you. You’d want to take it a step farther and humiliate me, wouldn’t you?” Ulrich snickered then said “Tell you what…if I strip down, you have to as well. I bet you’ll cream in your briefs, salivating over my milky white skin and muscled body.” Perfect, the promoter thought to himself. He had Alex exactly where he wanted him. Dawson hit a button underneath his desk so that the hidden cameras in his office would record what came next. He rose and came around the side of his desk. He unbuttoned his collared shirt and took it off, revealing his lean muscles and washboard abs. Within seconds, he had pulled off his slacks and sock and was dressed only in tight white briefs. The shape of his semi-hard 7.5” cut cock strained against the fabric. “Your turn,” the promoter said, as he settled into the chair Alex had inhabited. He leaned back, placing his arms behind his head and exposing his smooth armpits.
Ulrich took all this in and slowly pulled off his white tank top. He then yanked down his gray gym shorts revealing his red jock strap. “Hmmmmmmm,” Dawson hummed appreciatively. “Now show me your double bicep flex pose,” he said. Alex smirked and lifted both arms before flexing his 18” ceps. He was proud of the biceps’ peaks. He knew Dawson would be drooling at the sight of the veins along the ridge of the ceps and the light brown curls in his pits. He could see the promoter’s cock was rapidly hardening, with the mushroom head beginning to push into the waistband of his white briefs. “Like what you see, Dandy?” asked Alex. Dawson let out a soft moan and muttered “Keep going, Alex, show me more poses.”
Alex bent to his left while still flexing his ceps. The pose showed off his right obliques. Then he bent to his right so his left obliques were on display. He turned away from the silver-haired promoter and went into a rear lat spread. Dawson was amazed at his broad, muscled upper back and the “V” shape leading down to his 32” waist. And that bare ass was unbelievable. Dawson’s cock leaked pre-cum as he watched Alex’s bubble butt jiggle. Oh, the things he wanted to do to Ulrich’s hole, he sighed to himself. Alex could feel the promoter’s intense gaze upon him. He turned back around and saw a definite wet circle on Dawson’s white briefs near where the head of his hard cock had tented out the fabric.
“Yeah, you can’t control yourself, Dandy, can you? Or should I call you, Alex’s bitch?” Ulrich said with a grin that was cocky and bordering on malevolent. He began taunting the promoter, “You want to jerk off, don’t you? Fucking do it! Jerk off for your alpha heel!” As Alex went into another double bicep flex, Dawson dropped from the chair onto his knees and pulled out his thick cock and balls, hooking the latter just above his waistband. Staring up at the gorgeous wrestler with the bodybuilder physique, he began to stroke his cock, which was already lubricated with his pre-cum. Ulrich smirked and said “That’s right, beta bitch, stroke your dick!” As he said it, Alex could feel his own cock stiffening in his red jock.
Dawson saw the growing bulge in the jock’s pouch. He remembered what Wyle Connors had said about Ulrich’s sprouting an erection in the shower room while he humiliated Connors. The guy definitely got off on dominating other males. Alex looked down and saw that his cock was expanding to his full 5.5” length, pointing out the pouch of his red jock. He stepped forward until the tip of the pouch rubbed into Dawson’s face. He cupped the back of the promoter’s head and began rubbing his crotch all over his nose, cheeks and mouth.
“Ohhhhhhhh Fuuuucccckkkk!” moaned Dawson as he felt the hardness of Ulrich’s shaft and inhaled Ulrich’s alpha male scent. Alex felt his load starting to rise as he controlled the promoter’s face. He peered downwards and saw that Dandy had stopped stroking his cock. The mushroom head and shaft were throbbing and twitching. Suddenly, gobs of white cum spewed from his slit, untouched, as Dawson grunted into the pouch of the red jock. Alex went over the edge moments later. His body convulsed and he felt his release explode inside the jock. He continued to press his crotch, now warm and moist with wet cum, against Dandy’s face. “That’s what you wanted, faggot?” Ulrich sneered. Dandy nodded yes into the jock pouch, smelling the bleach-like aroma of Alex’s load. It was all he could do not to pull down the jock, swallow the cut cock whole and clean off Ulrich’s release.
Mission accomplished, Dandy thought to himself. Ulrich might think he was 100% straight but his cock had other thoughts. It was a bonus the hidden cameras had filmed the whole scene—Alex’s stripping, posing and orgasmic shuddering. Even if Alex could explain away the doctored nude pics, Dandy now had irrefutable evidence to prevent the alpha heel from trying to call off the whole match. Ulrich, unknowingly, had put a nail in his own coffin, helping to seal his fate. The irony was that cocky Alex felt he had dominated Dawson when the promoter had engineered the entire scene and forced Ulrich to cum in his jock strap. Dandy had bigger plans but this was the first step to enslaving and owning Alex Ulrich.
(To be continued.)