The following is fiction. It contains themes that some might find disturbing. Please check the tags and read at your own discretion. All characters are over the age of 18.
Playing With the Big Boys
Hello again dear reader,
I hope you didn't miss these opening words from me in my last entry. Frankly there wasn't much for me to say, I think the chapter spoke for itself. If angst and bitterness aren't to your taste in your smut... then I'm not sure how you've gotten this far. You can be sure there's more to come. But life cannot be spent entirely alone wrapped in a blanket burrito in a dark room so now we're back to the grind and on to the next challenge. Onwards and upwards! Upwards, in this case, ideally being in the direction of Hillbilly's prostate. But I get ahead of myself.
When I got back to my room after my, ahem, negotiations with Hill I found a message on my computer from Papa Bear. It just said "Check your calendar." When I did I found an appointment had been booked for me at 8:00 am tomorrow until 4:00 pm titled "Working Breakfast + Training." Up until now he had been more acting like a personal trainer than a coach, keeping me going on my cardio and making sure I was getting my reps in. It looked like my training with him was finally going to start in earnest.
This should be fun.
Breakfast was at Papa Bear's place, mostly to save my blushes but also because it had the set-up he needed. He was serious when he called it a working breakfast. We weren't meeting in his shared apartment but instead in one of the training rooms. See the mid-and-uppercarders get nice fancy digs with their own private rooms, not like us plebs at GenPop. When I arrived (early of course like the good little boy I am) I was greeted by a standard training ring, a conference table covered with scrambled eggs, French toast, other assorted breakfast foods, and a comprehensive montage of every one of my matches in the Ring playing on a flatscreen on the wall. Nothing works up an appetite like watching a video of yourself face-fucking a surfer boy. I'm not even joking, that shit gets my blood pumping something fierce.
Papa Bear greeted me dressed in a red wrestling singlet with matching headgear. His big, musclebear body was barely fitting into the tight get-up, his thick body hair spilling out of... well, everywhere. "Varsity! Welcome to your first real day of training."
"Thanks," I said nonplussed, "should I change?"
"Nah, I just figured dusting off the old gear might make you more comfortable. Gotta dress like a real coach, right?" Papa Bear said cheerily as he guided me to a seat. "I almost thought you wouldn't come."
"Not like I had much of a choice."
"Good to see you're still Mr. Sunshine." Leather Daddy (Papa Bear's tag partner/husband for those who forgot) said. He was sprawled across the couch with a loaded plate resting on his stomach. He was dressed more casually in shorts and an unzipped hoodie. God, talk about abs you could literally eat off of.
"Behave, Piggy. He's one of mine now." Papa Bear said and I can't lie, the way he said it made my stomach feel light. In a good way or a bad way? Who can say.
"For now." Leather Daddy said before chowing down on some bacon as he watched me spear tackle Octagon on tv.
"Ignore him." Papa Bear said. "We're still waiting on your sparring partners-"
"And you're gonna be waitin'." Leather Daddy cut in.
"-but that gives us time to talk about why I see a marathon match with Hillbilly just got added to your schedule."
My stomach did another flip like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. "What? There's no way-" My disbelief was cut off by a look at the calendar on Papa Bear's tablet. Sure enough, right at the end of August it said 'Varsity vs Hillbilly-Marathon Match (Pandemonium).' "There's no way! I was drunk!"
"How many times have I heard that?" Leather Daddy said.
"Shush," Papa Bear chided him before turning to me, "why don't you explain what happened?"
"I- We were watching the matches last night, Hill and I, I- we were drinking and..." It was hard to find the words to describe what followed. Or rather, it was hard to find the words that didn't make me sound like an idiot. "Things got heated and he challenged me to a match."
"And you agreed?" Papa Bear asked.
"...kinda."
"Were you watching in one of your rooms or in the common area?" Leather Daddy asked.
"Common a- wait, why does that matter?"
Leather Daddy grabbed the remote and I watched with growing horror as he navigated through a series of menus that ended with the three of us watching a video feed of the GenPop common area from last night. The camera angle almost perfectly captured Hill's head between my legs and the way my eyes fluttered half shut as I moaned like a slut. We all watched in silence as last night's event played out again. After it was done Papa Bear's only response was a maybe confused, maybe impressed "huh."
"Crafty little fucker." Leather Daddy said approvingly.
"Gotta admit, that's a new one." Papa Bear said.
"Ok, well, I was drunk so- can you stop?" I interrupted myself as Leather Daddy had been rewinding and replaying the moment I came all over myself on repeat.
"Y'just look so cute when you cum. Your nose crinkles up like a little pig."
In a moment of, in retrospect, ill considered skill I managed to snatch the remote from Leather Daddy's hand and turn the tv off. Papa Bear quickly interposed himself and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey hey hey, it's alright. No need to get embarrassed, we've all been baited into a fight at least once. Right Piggy?" Papa Bear said in a tone that somehow was calming and brooked no argument at the same time. Leather Daddy just grunted and lay back on the couch. "Anyways it's not so bad." Papa Bear said, "Good even!"
"Good? I don't even know what a marathon match is!"
"You're stuck in the ring with him for thirty minutes, whoever racks up the most money is the winner." Leather Daddy said.
"How is that good?!" I half-shouted.
"Think about it, you started out strong but your last few matches, well, they haven't been the most impressive. Entertaining! Definitely entertaining. But your only win has been against Frosh and, no offense to either of you, but he's not exactly a top contender. Now Hillbilly, he is a contender. This is a chance for you to reintroduce yourself to the patrons, show them you're more than a chump with a hot ass."
"We're just gonna skip over the way you're part of the reason they think I'm a chump?"
"Yep!" Papa Bear said. "Unless you really want to circle back to that. Piggy?"
"Already on it." Leather Daddy said, fiddling with the remote.
"Well- wait-" Luck, or so I thought, was on my side as a knock came at the door to the training room before I had to try and wrestle the remote away again. That would not have gone well for me.
"Finally!" Papa Bear threw his hands in the air in exasperation as he got up to open the door. "I told you 7:30, it's almost 9:00!"
"You're mad if you think I'm getting up at 7:00 for you anymore." A voice said.
"We showed up didn't we?" Another voice said. "Now where's the rookie at?"
Right, these guys. Reader, it's time for me to introduce you to a... complicated part of my life. We'll start with the sex pest.
Tomcat: You'd be surprised how many guys' gimmick in the Ring could be boiled down to sex pest. Actually, maybe that isn't so surprising. Anyways, Tommy was one of those guys. 6' 0" and 190 pounds, and he made good use of all of it. He had what I can only describe as a '90s pornstar look, including the bad spray tan and the 'stache. God, especially the 'stache. He had long brown hair that went down past his shoulders but he always kept it tied in a ponytail which personally I found to be a shame. He was, per his trainer's own words, Papa Bear's best student. To put it bluntly, he was here to teach me how to fuck. Also he's English, but not in a fancy way, in a sleazy way, if that makes sense. Like he says 'bruv' a lot.
Accompanying him was his... we'll call him a 'friend.'
Guido: Yes, that's his ring name, and he was exactly what you are probably imagining. Dark, slicked back hair. Clean shaven, square jaw. Aquiline nose. Yes, he was actually Italian, by which I mean he was from Long Island. Like Tomcat he was a few years older than me and the same height, 6' 1", but much, much broader. Every muscle on his body was lovingly crafted and cared for from his rock hard, rippling abs, to his boulder-like biceps, to his bulging traps. Dude could deadlift me and do a hundred reps but he couldn't scratch his back without a stick. He was Leather Daddy's trainee but Papa Bear had pulled him in so I could train against someone stronger than I was. He was still an undercarder like me but he mostly lived in the midcard dormitories thanks to Tomcat. Like I said, 'friend.'
With their arrival we all (except Leather Daddy) got in the ring with both of them shoulder to shoulder with me. There was an energy about them that took me back to my freshman year of college. When I was pledging, to be specific.
"How's it hanging little man?" Guido asked me.
"This is the guy everyone's making a fuss about?" Tomcat said skeptically. "You look smaller in person."
"Settle down boys." Papa Bear said. "We're here to work."
"Oh yeah, I'm ready to work." Guido said. "I've been waiting for a chance to throw this guy around."
"First things first we need to find his kink." Tomcat said. "My money's on the nips."
"Oh no, he's a pit dog for sure." Guido argued.
"What has gotten in to both of you?" Papa Bear asked bewildered.
"'s your fault for gettin' them up so early." Leather Daddy said. "Probably both coked up to high heaven."
"Ah we're just messing with the new guy." Guido said, pulling me into a headlock and mussing up my hair. I quickly shoved him away only to be pulled in by an arm around the shoulder by Tomcat.
"Yeah don't worry daddy we'll be gentle with him. Real gentle." Tomcat said, and winked at me.
Something about that wink lit a fire in me. "Oh I'll show you gentle." I tried to say menacingly.
"Promise?" Tomcat asked with a purse of his lips.
"Hey now little guy-" Guido interjected.
"Little? I could kick your ass dude."
"Aw, he's like one of those yappy dogs." Tomcat said.
"Keep it in your pants you three. At least for now." Papa Bear said, clearly fighting off a grin. "We all know you can hold your own Varsity, they're just playing with you. They can be blowhards but they're some of the best fighters I know. They'll get you in to prime condition in no time."
"Right, just need to give him a blowie and put a cockring on him, should do the trick." Tomcat said.
"Shut up." Papa Bear brushed him off. "Now, we need to work on your image. What are the patrons going to expect when the see you on the card for the night? More importantly, what gets them excited to see you on the card? As it is it's a bit of a mish-mash that I want to refine into a clear theme. There's a couple angles we could go with that I've identified after some research."
"He means he jerked off to all of your matches." Leather Daddy cut in.
"Why did I marry you again?" Papa Bear sighed.
Leather Daddy responded by reaching up and scratching his back, showing off a deep armpit filled with thick black hair.
"Right." Papa Bear said. "Anyways. Varsity." He turned back to me. "Let's start with the push management tried to give you at first, the All-American Face is how I like to call it. You started straying away from it almost immediately but I think now might be a good time to bring it back. You've had your dark night of the soul and come out the other side wanting to do better. You do things by the book now, play things straight. Well, heh, as straight as close to straight as you can get. No low blows, less striking, more of your collegiate wrestling skills. Maybe a spladle every now and then, but otherwise you'd be a good guy." To illustrate his point he pulled up a montage from some of my matches. It started with me doing a side headlock takeover on Hillbilly, me getting Long Haul to the mat with a gutwrench suplex (maybe one of my most impressive moments in the showcase if I do say so myself), and capping off with me finishing Octagon off in a rear naked choke.
The more he described it and the more I watched the more I felt a strange sort of excitement. Like the constant dread of the past few weeks was slipping away. Yeah, maybe this was it. Ever since I'd been forced into the Ring I'd been surviving by the skin of my teeth. I was doing whatever it took to win. But if I could show that that isn't who I really am maybe I could turn things around, maybe Gym would-
"Bit boring, innit?" Tomcat said.
"Yeah sounds like you want him to be a jobber." Guido said. "What's the good guy way of fucking somebody anyways?"
With a click Papa Bear pulled up a clip of me fucking C-Suite on his hands and knees. "Doggy style." Another click to me getting blown by Beach Bum. "Or a standing blowjob."
Both Tomcat and Guido were making skeptical noises but I shrugged. "I dunno, I kinda like it."
"Eh, you just like having an excuse to get fucked." Guido said, giving me a light shove. God he was starting to get on my nerves.
"Maybe I just don't want to be a freak like you two." I said.
"That," Papa Bear said, "is a great segue to option two, which I'm calling the All-American Heel." Now the screen was showing a shot of me from below, staring down my nose at a knocked out Beach Bum. God I looked like an asshole. "You're Varsity, right? You're elite, you're better than your opponent, better than the patrons, and you let everyone know that."
"No I don't!"
"Sure you do!" Papa Bear said cheerily. "Exhibit A," click a looping video of me lunging at Grunt and then laughing at him when he flinched, "exhibit B," click another video, this time of me rubbing my ass in Hillbilly's face, "exhibits C, D, E, F, & G" click click click click click, a slideshow of my match with Frosh, slapping the back of his head, giving him a noogie, kicking him while he's down, ugh, the fucking oil check. I slunk back from the ropes and could feel my cheeks turning red.
"Hey," Tommy said as he slung an arm over my shoulder, "nothing to be ashamed of, everyone loves a bully."
"I'm not a fucking bully, asshole!" I said, shoving him away.
"That'll show 'em." Guido said.
As I turned to him Papa Bear interjected. "And this last one I don't quite have a name for yet. For now let's just call it Angry V." With another click an image came up of me on screen, glaring into the camera. It didn't take many guesses to figure out which match this was from, the blood dripping from the gash on my forehead showed clear enough it was my debut. A trickle of red framed the right side of my face which, along with my wide eyes, gave me a look of unhinged rage. "Every now and then it's like a switch is flicked during your match and a whole 'nother beast comes out. I think we could build on that, though it might take some rejiggering of your image."
"'Rejiggering' how?"
"Y'know, grow out your hair a bit, get some stubble, just a hint of a wild side that you can let loose when the moment's right." One last click for one last montage. First me, in a rage, bodying Hillbilly into the corner and folding him in half before I fucked him, thrusting my dick into him with a violent force that lit a fire in me as I watched it. Then my match Grunt, right at the end when I forced my cum back in his mouth. I was almost at full mast when, like a bucket of cold water being dumped on me, the video cut to my match with Frosh. I had him pinned against the ropes, my teeth tearing into his forehead. I suddenly remembered the taste of his blood and a shiver ran up my spine.
"And of course you might-"
"No."
"No?"
"I'm not doing it, the Angry V thing."
Papa Bear looked at me quietly for a moment before nodding. "Alright then, we'll strike it."
"Probably a good idea." Guido said. "You don't got that beast in ya."
I rolled my eyes. "Fuck off."
"Yeah, what're you talking about mate?" Tomcat cut in. "He's definitely got that beast. Didn't you see the way he wrecked that twink?" My hackles were already up but Tomcat insisted on pushing. "Just need to see if he's got a beast that can take on a real man and not just some little punk." He finished off with a wink and before anyone could stop me I was up in his face, backing him into the corner.
"You wanna find out dude? Huh? I'll throw down right now!"
Papa Bear and Guido were trying to get between us but mostly were just getting in each others' way.
"What, a sparring match? You scared of the real thing?" Tomcat said with an infuriating grin.
"I don't give a fuck!" I shouted in his face. "You, me, in the ring. If you count as a 'real man.'"
Behind me Guido shouted "fuck!" and stomped the mat. Tomcat just pointed at him and laughed. "Hah! You owe me $100!"
"That's it." Papa Bear said. Before I knew what was happening he had me in a bearhug (hah!) from behind and, lifting me off my feet, spun me around into the middle of the ring. "All of you need to calm down and you two," he pointed to Guido and Tomcat, "better tell me what the hell is going on."
"Sounds like they made a bet." Leather Daddy said, munching on yet more bacon while he watched the drama. OK fine, comedy
"To see who could get a match with him first." Tomcat said. "He had to challenge first, obviously, no point otherwise. Sorry mate," he said to me, "had to get under your skin to make it work. No hard feelings, yeah?" He held out a hand for a shake but I just stared at it in a mixture of confusion, anger, and mortification.
Papa Bear just sighed. "I'm starting to understand Rodeo's pain."
"I get you next, buddy." Guido said.
"You forget you've got a match with me coming up?" Leather Daddy asked his trainee.
"Ey, first I beat him then I beat you. Gotta have the appetizer before the main course."
"You lunk." Leather Daddy said with a laugh.
Papa Bear pulled me aside to speak with me privately. "Hey bud, look, you don't need to go through with this match if you don't want to."
I bristled, I did a lot of that. "I'm not scared of him."
"Well first of all you should be, he's on another level than you. A higher one, to be clear." Papa Bear said. "Look, this wasn't part of my plan for you. I was hoping we'd start you off slow, get you some new wins under your belt first before putting you up against the big guns."
I looked over at Tomcat who puckered his lips at me and I turned back to Papa Bear. "I'm doing the match."
He sighed again. "Lord have mercy. Alright, but you gotta understand, people know you're my trainee now and that so was he. If they're gonna believe he didn't throw the match he's gonna have to go hard. And if you lose, well, your record's going to start to look pretty shabby. You sure you're ready for that?"
"Isn't that what you're for? To make me ready?" I asked.
He looked me up and down and, slowly, a grin spread across face. "I suppose it is."
Turns out, when they weren't trying to goad me into a fight, Tomcat and Guido were actually pretty cool guys once you got used to the groping. And there was a lot of that when you train with Papa Bear. We would do sparring, same as before, but this time if I ever missed a chance to grope an opponent I'd know it. Any time I missed a chance to rub my dick, ass, and/or armpit on an opponent Papa Bear would stop me and reset the match until I got it right. By the end of my first week of training I had learned more ways to open a guy's ass mid-fight than I could have guessed existed. And this was going against just one training partner.
Guido was every bit as strong as he looked, unlike Gym every muscle was there for use as much as it was for looks. And boy did he not hold back on using them. More than once I thought I had him locked down until he broke my hold like a paper doll and had me slamming so hard into the mat I'd get worried I'd never breathe again. He also taught me what I needed to do whenever I was in the ring against someone stronger than me.
First, admit that there were guys stronger than me. What can I say I was young, dumb, and full of... confidence. Second, take them to the mat as soon as possible. As a bonus this gives you plenty of chances to get in some dry humping for the patrons. Finally, go for the balls early, go for the balls often. It debilitates your opponent just as much as it pleases the patrons. The lessons I learned with Guido were going to take me far in the Ring, I just didn't know it yet.
At the same time as Guido was tossing me around the ring Tomcat was providing me lessons of a different kind. He was refusing to spar with me until after our match so I wouldn't learn his, quote unquote, "secrets" but that didn't mean he was uninvolved in my training altogether. Aside from his "helpful advice" on how to best violate my opponents he was also my first look into the workings of the Ring outside of the... er, the ring. Y'know, things like who hates who, who's fucking who, who's hatefucking who, that kinda stuff. Might sound like juvenile gossip (because it is) but I was quickly learning it was also key to advancing in the Ring. You never want to walk out of a match as the newest unwitting member of a hate-love-polycule. And then there's the wheeling and dealing that goes on behind the scenes between fighters and management, fighters and staff, or even between fighters themselves. Bribes, winnings splits, so, so, so much prostitution in all directions. Turns out that sometimes a blowjob was the key to a locked door.
But if I'm being honest it wasn't the training that helped me the most, nor the advice. No, these two guys saved me with parties. Over the past week I would have been a hermit but for cardio. I always dreaded the end of my runs because it meant running the gauntlet of my fellow undercarders who all hated my guts. It only ever amounted to harsh stares but honestly I might have preferred a punch over that by the end of the week. Now with Guido and Tomcat each day ended getting buzzed with the bros. The first time, at the end of that first day of training, I brushed their invitation off as a joke. It was not a joke. They proved as much as they nearly dragged me up to Tomcat's room once Papa Bear turned his back.
Now before you get any ideas it wasn't anything extravagant. Tomcat had a suite of his own on the second floor that was much smaller than Papa Bear & Leather Daddy's, just a living room and a bedroom, but it was enough to have fun. He had a couch, a tv, an Xbox, and a fridge full of beer, what else would we need? Some of his friends would also drop by which helped expand my social circle outside GenPop, you'll meet them later on but for now we'll call them Himbo Lumberjack, Special Agent Sex Pest, Romance Novel Cover Scottish Dude, and Harley, you remember Harley. The big, muscley biker guy. Turns out him, Guido, and Tomcat were friends from their start in the Ring. Him and Long Haul are a tag team now, what a world.
It was fun, those evenings just hanging out with some dudes again. And by fun I of course mean revitalizing to my will to live. I even stopped being afraid of the day ending and slinking off to hide in my room. If this was all a plan on Tomcat's part to psych me out it worked like a charm. See I had been jonesing for a social life, right? And here was one presented on a platter. All thanks to Tomcat. And now I have a match with him, I'm sure nothing will change if I end up beating him right? It's not like my actions in the ring could end up burning me in my social life, right? Well, read on.
Saturday did finally arrive, as that asshole always did. If you told me a year ago that Saturday would be my least favorite day I'd have called you a moron but here we are. There must have been some buzz about my match because Tomcat and I were first on the schedule.
"Great," I said when I found that out, "I can fuck everything up in record time."
"Piggy's right, we have got to work on your attitude." Papa Bear said as he escorted me to the entry room. "I'll be the first to tell you this situation could be better, but you're not hopeless."
"Got any hope then?"
"Look, Tommy's got more experience than you, that's just the plain truth."
"That's not sounding very hopeful."
"But he's not unbeatable, no one's unbeatable. Remember your training, try to put on a good show but focus on getting the win. I know we talked about building up your image but that'll be even more of an uphill battle if you end up getting sprayed in front of the patrons."
I stopped in my tracks. "Sprayed?"
"...right." Papa Bear said, clearly dreading the explanation. "So you know how he's called Tomcat...?"
"He's going to piss on me?!"
"Only if you let him hit you with the Cat's Cradle!"
"No," I shook my head, taking a step back, "nope, no way. I'm not doing this."
"Hey!" Papa Bear grabbed my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. "If you wanted out of this your chance was a week ago. You're on the schedule, your music's about to play, if you back out now there'll be hell to pay from management."
"So I'm just supposed to lay down and get pissed on?"
"Well you could try winning."
"Great, and then I'll have another guy that hates me."
Papa Bear gave me a pat on the back as he pushed me in the entry room. "Tommy's a big boy, he can handle some roughhousing." As the door to the entry room closed between us he hurried out a rushed, "Go for the balls! Don't hold back!"
In the silence I could hear my heart beating hard enough to break out of my chest, only broken when the attendant in charge of entrances spoke up. "Welcome back Varsity."
"Hey Jen, how've you been?" I said to her. Gatekeeper of woe and misery she might be, she'd been a reassuring presence all the same.
"Good, you?"
"Pretty fucking bad."
"Yeah," she sighed. "Thirty seconds." I silently watched the timer tick down on the screen over head, each second seeming to take me one step closer to another oblivion. It had nice having friends again while it lasted at least. When the timer reached ten I spoke up again. "It was good to see you Jen."
"It was good to see you too." She said with a cheer like we'd just stumbled across each other in the grocery store. "If it's any consolation," she said in what seemed like the spur of the moment, "I'm still rooting for you. I've never been a fan of Frosh."
I chuckled once, just from the surprise. "Thanks Jen, that helps."
"You're good to go."
The doors opened to the sound of my music and I made my way to the ring. As I walked down the ramp I could hear Papa Bear's voice in the back of my mind reminding me this was my chance to reintroduce myself to the patrons. Good guy, you're the good guy here, I thought to myself. To that end I tried putting on a broad smile. Watching it back in hindsight I looked like I was shitting myself, which to be fair I basically was. I waved to no one in particular once I got in the ring while the announcer and his guests this week speculated about my upcoming match.
"Varsity has a tough battle ahead of him tonight. Tomcat's been at this for five years now, that's half a decade of experience he has on Varsity. Varsity has the advantage in size, but will it be enough?" The announcer asked.
"With his recent record he knows he has to win this." Incubus, one half of the tag team champions Heaven & Hell, said.
"Yeah, if that doesn't give him the fighting spirit he needs then he should find a new job." Incubus' partner Archangel agreed. It might have been harsh but he was right. If I was serious about getting out of here, I mean really getting out of here, I had to win. Otherwise I'd be collecting scraps for the rest of my life.
A long note from a saxophone announced my opponent's entrance. Tomcat came dancing down the ramp in a way that's hard to describe, imagine if Rocky was a gogo dancer, lots of punching and thrusting. Also a succinct description of his fighting style. If I had to sum his outfit up in one word it would be 'gaudy'. If you asked for elaboration it would be 'leopard print'. He was wearing a leopard print jacket that matched his velvet leopard print trunks that matched his black and- well not yellow, there's gotta be a word for this color, hang on...
So Tomcat was dancing down to the ring in his black and cornsilk boots and I was starting to really regret my actions. As he hopped up to the apron he peeled off his jacket in the sluttiest way possible, humping the air as he did. Underneath he revealed a carpet of hair covering a muscular chest and abs. His biceps bulged as he flexed one for the cameras. See I'd missed this about Tommy, he was one of those guys with an impressive physique who was unfortunately friends with some absolute monsters that made him look small. Not that it bothered him one bit to be surrounded by hunks.
He must have seen me eyeing him because he flexed again, one hand behind his head and showing off a hairy pit while he and his porn 'stache smirked at me. "You ready for all of this bruv?"
No, no I was not. "Just bring it already." I said.
The bell rang.
Immediately we locked up in the center of the ring, both of us jockeying for control. It soon became clear that between my size and his skill we were close to evenly matched. I would get one of his arms locked and he would spin me around so he had me in a grapple from behind which I would manage to break out of and get him with an armbar which he would then turn around on me and pull me into a side-headlock which I would then power out of and get him in rear hammerlock. Tomcat put an end to the back and forth by snapmaring me over his shoulder onto my ass. He rattled me with two elbow strikes before locking on a rear choke while he kneeled behind me.
"Looks like skill's got the edge on strength." I heard the announcer say through the blood rushing in my ears.
I fought to free myself, trying first to pry his arm off me and then when that failed trying to slip his grip. I ended up on hands and knees trying to slip out and he just tut tut tutted at me, followed by a harsh yank that pulled me up and arched my back. "They're here for a show, bruv, gotta show'em what they want." Clearly feeling confident he peeled down one strap of my singlet a groped one of my pecs, bouncing it in his hand. "I do love me a piece of meat." To emphasize his point he nipped my ear. It was very light but I flinched away at it, well as much as I could in his headlock, making him laugh.
"Don't worry," he whispered in my ear, "I said I'd be gentle. Now lets see what we're working with." His hand traced down my chest and underneath my singlet. He briefly felt up my abs before continuing on down to my pubes. My cock was half hard just from his groping and only grew harder as his fingers danced across it. I struggled to escape his grip then but he only tightened it, making my head light. God if he choked me out in under minute my reputation would never recover. "Come on," he commanded as his hand gripped my cock and gave it a stroke, "get hard for me boy."
"Going for the dick this early in the match, now that's real dominance." The announcer said.
"This is the guy that had GenPop quaking in their boots?" Archangel asked.
"Wouldn't be the first overhyped rookie, won't be the last." Incubus said.
"Don't listen to them," Tomcat whispered in my ear as he stroked my cock to full mast. "I'll take care of you once this is over. You can even stay at my place if you like."
Don't get mad, I chided myself, you're the good guy, focus. Focus was the key word, I could feel myself drifting off in the haze of the choke and my growing dick.
"Here, this should speed things up." He briefly released the choke, yanking my head back. Just as I was about to get a gasp of fresh air he trapped my face in his pit, locking on a dragon sleeper. My cock jerked as my nose, no, my entire body was filled with his musky scent. He must have noticed because he laughed. "Looks like Guido's right. You're a little stink pig. Filthy little bitch."
That did not help the anger. Nor did his hand stopping the stroking to give my balls a squeeze. That didn't help at all. What had been groans into his hairy pit turned in to one continuous screaming roar as I used the burst of adrenaline from my balls getting touched to try and power my way out of his hold. I managed to slip my head free and he tried to secure it again with another rear choke. I was able to turn it around and flip him over my shoulder onto his back. From there I was on him, laying into him with a series of punches to his gut, finishing off with a slap. Just as my palm connected with his cheek I regained enough of my senses to remember, right, good guy. I'm supposed to be the good guy. Good guys don't usually slap their opponent.
Tomcat did not let my hesitation go to waste and landed a punch right to my solar plexus. The angle was against him so it wasn't a completely debilitating blow but it certainly knocked the wind out of my sails. I stumbled off of him and both of us scrambled to opposite corners to recuperate. While I was breathing heavy, pulling my loose singlet strap into place to try and center myself Tomcat was rubbing a hand over his mouth and checking for blood. What a fucking drama queen, I barely touched him.
"Gonna be like that then." He said, rolling his shoulder. "Alright."
"You can give up now if you're scared." I shot back.
Tomcat just smirked and took a fighting stance. I mirrored him and we locked up again. Now I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I'm not as big an idiot as this story might otherwise indicate, at least in the ring. I knew I was at a disadvantage both to Tomcat's experience and the fact he'd been watching me train this past week. Hell he could have rewatched my old matches to learn my style. Shit I probably should have done that. Maybe I am a dumbass.
Anyways.
Point is I knew what his game was when we locked up for a second time. He couldn't beat me when it was strength vs strength, but he was an expert at redirecting me. When I tried to get him in an armbar he spun me into a hammerlock, when I tried to power out of that he dropped low and swept a leg out from under me. I stumbled but managed to stay on my feet, though he was still on me. I realized I needed to learn from his example. He had me in a side headlock that I managed to shove my way out of. He used the momentum to bounce of the ropes, which is what I figured he'd do. As he went to hit me with a clothesline I ducked underneath. I wrapped my arms around his waist and heaved him up and over for a German suplex so snappy it might have given us both whiplash.
"Looks like there's a brain in that pretty head after all." Incubus said.
I wasted no time rolling us both over and heaving Tomcat up to hit him with another German suplex, quickly followed by a third. My plan was to make this one of my signature moves, it was impressive but more importantly it was as effective as it was clean. By the time Tomcat had hit the mat for the third time he was well and truly out of it. Good, because I needed to catch my breath. Leaning on the ropes I scanned the wall for any requests, what I saw made my stomach sink.
There were some that were obviously aimed at Tomcat like "Cum Slap" or "Back Scratch." Then there was the general stuff à la "Take Off Your Boots." Finally I found the requests that were aimed at me. "Noogie," "Wedgie," I even saw "Wet Willy" up there. The patrons were making it pretty fucking clear they wanted me to be a bully and to be honest, that made me want to be one even less. Not because of any moral reasons, I can just be a contrarian asshole sometimes. Although, I mean, wedgie was up to $250... No, no, that's not who I'm gonna be.
With nothing on the wall that I was willing to do I decided it was time to finish this. Papa Bear'd complain but fuck it, at least I could end this match without totally burning every bridge I had with Tomcat and Guido. Speaking of Tomcat, I stood over his supine form and hooked my fingers under the hem of his trunks. The velvet had held up surprisingly well through all the exertion and almost slipped through my fingers with how soft it was. I lifted his legs so that I could pull his trunks fully off but as I did he started to stir. Fuck, I'd wasted so much time dilly-dallying I'd given him a chance to recover. I tried to rip his trunks off but in my rushing I got them tangled around his boots.
He was fully awake now. I had to hold onto his legs as he started to thrash, shouting "no no no no no" as he tried to escape my grip. We struggled around the ring for a bit until he was able to pull me in and quickly kick with both of his legs into my chest, knocking me across the ring. He took the chance to crawl up the ropes to his feet and pull his trunks back on. "Well aren't you a randy little bugger." He said. "We've barely just started."
I wasn't going to make the mistake of hesitating again, so instead I made the new mistake of rushing. I charged at him and he immediately dropped to the mat, trapping my legs between his and causing to me fall flat on my face. "You really think it would be that easy bruv?" He asked as he stood over me. Suddenly my back was on fire from the shoulders down as Tomcat raked his fingernails down my skin. While I screamed the announcer let out a whoop.
"This cat's got claws!" Both Incubus and Archangel groaned.
Between my face hitting the mat and my back suddenly feeling like it was being branded I had quickly gone from being in charge to completely disoriented. I struggled to get on hands and knees and immediately fell back down as Tomcat stomped on my back, making the fire burning my skin burn even hotter. "C'mon," he said, lightly kicking my ribs more to mock than to hurt, "get up big guy. C'mon." Another kick. "Need some help?" He grabbed my hair and pulled up to hands and knees. I was forced to crawl across the ring until we had reached the corner where he pulled me up to my feet and slammed my head into the turnbuckle, further disorienting depositing me in the corner, my arms draped over the ropes, my back arched so that my stinging back wasn't pressing against the leather. My arching back, coincidentally, made my chest the perfect target for a chop from Tomcat, the smack echoing through the arena. I started to double over but Tomcat shoved me back into the corner, leaning in close to me, his hairy chest pressing me in to the corner, his lips almost touching mine.
"Now let's see if I was right." He said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. With one arm across my chest he trapped me in the corner while his other hand went tracing across my chest. He ran his fingers over my pec with his thumb rubbing over my nipple, sending a shock through me. Involuntarily I gasped and Tomcat's grin grew. "You like that?"
"No." I gasped. Tomcat just laughed and lightly pinched my nipple, tweaking it and getting my dick twitching in my jock.
"You sure about that?" He asked, giving my nipple a twist that forced out an 'ah!' from me. "I'll give 'em a suck if you promise to be good."
"Fuck you."
"Oh baby, that is not how this is going." He went back to massaging my nipple, his other arm pressing up against my neck. "It's alright, you bit off more than you could chew. Just go down easy and we can have a lot of fun."
I gave my answer by way of a failed headbutt. Tomcat laughed. "Alright, hard way it is." He knocked me across the head with a forearm, dazing me. "Once I'm done the whole Ring'll know you're mine." He climbed up to the middle rope, his bulging leopard print trunks right in my face. He held my head back so that I was staring up the length of his hairy abs and pecs, glistening with sweat. With a kiss to his knuckles he landed a punch to my forehead followed by another, another, another, another. I lost track after that, my head throbbing and my eyes bleary. I only knew he stopped when felt the sweaty velvet of his trunks rubbing against my face as he humped me in the corner. I, foolishly, opened my mouth to protest and instead got it filled with a velvet covered cock. He held me there for a moment, dry humping my mouth, his sweaty, musky crotch in my face. Just before I fully regained my senses he pulled out, my saliva covering the front of his trunks, and hit me with one last hard punch across the face that left me seeing stars.
Tomcat immediately followed up by lifting my right leg up so it was draped over the middle rope.
"Uh oh." The announcer said gleefully. "I think I know where this is going."
"We all know where this is going." Archangel said.
"Looks like Tomcat's on a mean streak." Incubus agreed.
Once he'd draped my left leg over the opposite rope he stepped back to admire his work, that being me strung up in the corner, my crotch wide open. I'd regained enough of my senses to realize what was happening.
"Wait," I begged, struggling to free a leg to defend myself. Tomcat took a step back with his right foot, a wicked grin across his face. "Wait, wait, wait!" I shouted as he ran up and gave me a penalty kick that crushed my balls right into my coccyx. Reader this was probably the worst pain I'd felt in my entire time in the Ring. I thought I was going to throw up right there. As I fell forward my head ended up leaning against Tomcat's hairy chest. He ran a hand through my hair as if he was soothing me.
"Sorry bruv, but you chose the hard way." Tomcat said almost apologetically but I could hear the grin on his face. He freed me from the ropes until I was sitting on my ass in the corner with my head resting on the middle turnbuckle. Stepping back again Tomcat admired his work for a moment, tilting his head as he looked me over. "Damn, should've asked for stakes for this." He said to himself. "Ah, well." And with that he ran back up to me, turning at the last minute to hit me with what is called a, quote unquote, 'hip attack.' Which is to say that he slammed his ass directly into my face while I sat in the corner. The impact rattled me but he wasn't done. He stayed there in the corner, rubbing his ass in my face. The velvet of his trunks had collected a lot of his sweat throughout the match and he was rubbing it in my face now. Through the pain I could feel my cheeks burning at the humiliation, my legs thrashing as I tried in vain to escape. His sweat and his musk filled my nose. Fuck he didn't need to spray me at the end of this, he'd already marked me with his scent plenty.
Through the humiliation and the pain I couldn't deny the way my stomach roiled as I breathed in the smell of Tomcat's ass in my face. To put it shortly I was harder than titanium. No joke I might have creamed myself then and there. Maybe it was the horniness cutting through the pain, maybe it was just my experience finally kicking in, but I realized that despite, again, the immense humiliation of having another man shove his sweaty ass in my face, this wasn't actually hurting me. Tomcat was happy to keep rubbing his ass in my face for as long as I let him which meant, strangely, that I was able to catch a breath. Well, so long as I was ok with that breath being filled with Tomcat's musk. Yeah, it was very hard for me. Really hard. Like rock hard.
I am hilarious.
Tomcat did eventually get tired of stripping away my manhood for a live audience. He stepped away and I finally got a breath of fresh air that wasn't filtered through his sweat soaked trunks. As he pulled me up I did my best to act woozy, barely fighting back. It was a risky plan that I had but I figured it was my best shot. At this point he must have thought he'd got the rookie beat. Sure enough he gave me a quick kiss on the lips and said, "Alright, time to finish this."
He pulled me to the center of the ring and spun me so that we were back-to-back, his arms hooked through mine.
"Uh oh," the announcer said, "Varsity better watch out or he'll end up in the Cat's Cradle!"
I didn't know what the move was but from the way we were positioned I could guess what it might involve. It helped that Tomcat was taking his time, flexing his arms so that my body was on full display for the camera. He was, if nothing else, a showman. Also a bit of a dick. Finally I felt him move to execute, one leg lifting up to give him momentum. Just as he started pulling me so that I would slam the back of my head into the mat I kicked off first, moving faster than he expected. I did a reverse somersault over his back and as I landed in front of him I grabbed his head and slammed it into my knee. He was out like a light.
The announcer was ranting and raving as I stalked over to Tomcat. I'd been collected, I'd been tactical, but I had not been calm or cool. Reader, I was fucking pissed. I stood over Tomcat, enjoying the sit of him writhing on the mat. But I needed him aware, in that moment I needed him to know what I was doing, so I slapped him across the face. When his bleary eyes focused I slapped him again just so he'd have one he remembered. "Who's the little guy now?" I asked. Before he could answer I stomped him in the gut, following up with a kick to the ribs that rolled him onto his stomach.
"Everyone loves a bully, right?" I asked, smacking the back of his head. "Right?!" I landed a knee right to the small of his back, pinning him to the mat. I grabbed the hem of his trunks and pulled hard, giving him a wedgie hard enough to rip him in half. "This is what you wanted! This is what you fucking wanted!" I spanked his exposed ass as I yanked on his trunks. He was scrambling on the mat, screaming out in pain and god did I love it. I loved it too much. Once both his cheeks were bright red I yanked his trunks down so that he his whole ass was exposed, finishing off with one last smack.
I repositioned so that I had him in a combined camel clutch and headlock. First, I gave him a noogie, rubbing my knuckle into his head while he groaned in pain, spittle spilling past his lips from the choke. That gave me an idea. I released the headlock and instead fish hooked his mouth, pulling back in the camel clutch while he cried out. Satisfied with the pain I'd caused him I kept a finger in his mouth while I hooked his nose. I swiped it across his tongue, collecting a gob of his saliva before pulling it out and giving him a wet willie with his own spit. I really could be inventive but no one ever gives me credit for it.
To finish up I repositioned again into a dragon sleeper, trapping Tomcat's face in my armpit and arching his back hard. "Time for you to choose asshole!" I shouted at him. "Submit to me now or I'll knock you out and fuck you raw! How's that for the hard way?!" As soon as I'd finished talking he was slapping the mat in submission. I cranked it on a few more times to make my point before letting him go, shoving him down to the mat. "Look at the big boy now." I said before shouting to an attendant. "Lube!"
As the lube was retrieved I rolled Tomcat into a spladle, which was quickly becoming my real signature move. What can I say, it's my moneymaker. With his asshole open and exposed I got work opening him up. By the time I had him three fingers open he was starting to struggle again. I only had one hand around his leg since I needed the other one to finger him. That combined with my one hand being covered in lube meant that I lost my grip on him. He was stumbling as he rolled to his feet though to be fair I wasn't 100% either at this point.
With lube dripping from his ass he took a stance for one final lock up. In one swift motion I pulled down the straps of my singlet and pounded my chest, challenging him to bring it on. He bounced off the ropes behind him and bounded across the ring. I ducked the clothesline he was aiming for and grabbed him around the torso. Lifting him up and spun around and slammed him down to the mat with a spinebuster. Kneeling between his legs I pounded my chest again as I screamed in his face. "That's right! That's fucking right! I'm the man here! I'm the man!"
I rolled him up so that his knees were almost touching his shoulders while with one hand I pulled out my rock hard cock and speared his asshole. The adrenaline from the struggle and the way he pressed against my hips in a vain attempt to stop me gave me a rush like nothing else. Not since my first match had I felt such a complete victory, and this time with none of the confusion or nerves to get in the way. As I fucked the shit out of Tomcat's ass all I could feel was pure, unadulterated pleasure. It was a testament to his skill that his ass was as tight as it was. Even as I fucked him he was still struggling to escape, still not giving up. I pressed down on the back of his legs until his knees truly were touching his shoulders. I pounded him over and over again while he cried out in pain and pleasure. Well, maybe it was pleasure, I didn't fucking care. If anything I hoped it was only pain after what he'd put me through.
My orgasm was quickly rising in me and with it another surge of lustful rage. "Fucking take it." I growled at him as I pounded him into the mat. "Look at you. Fucking pathetic. 'Sorry bruv,'" I said in a bad imitation of his accent, "'you chose the hard way.'" I plowed my cock full into his ass, slamming my pelvis into his ass while he let out a sound somewhere between a yelp and a scream. "Shut the fuck up." I said as I slammed a hand over his mouth. Feeling him writhe under my power was the last bit of aphrodisiac I needed as pleasure fully gripped my body. I emptied my nuts into his ass, pumping one, two, three, four times as a week's worth of cum filled him up. "You. Lose." I said as I stared down at him. Looking back up I saw that "Cum Slap" was still on the wall. I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face.
When I pulled out of him there was still a streak of cum across my throbbing dickhead. I wiped my hand over it and straddled Tomcat again. "I think this is your move." I said as I slapped him across the face, rubbing my cum over his cheeks. He covered his face with his hands and once I got off of him he rolled on to his side, the pain of the match clearly catching up with him.
Packing my dick back into my singlet I left the ring without a look back. Jen gave me an appreciative nod as I passed through the entry room to make my way to the showers. When the cold air conditioned air of the hallways hit my skin it was like all the energy from the match was sucked out of me, snuffed out like a candle's flame. The aches and pains that had been hidden by adrenaline rushed in, my neck was a mess of aches, my back was still on fire from the scratch, and my balls felt like they'd be sore forever.
Worse, as I walked in to the empty shower room I realized that I'd done it again, in record time. I'd made friends, become part of a group, and in one match I'd thrown it all away. I was, once again alone. I tried to take in a breath.
I couldn't.
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