Monday, March 9, 2015

The Cave 4: Big Trouble (Part 1)


I'm standing naked in front of the mirror in the locker room, checking myself out. Despite everything that happened today, I don't look too bad. My 60 tall, 215-lbs body is bruised, red and sore, but for the most part, Im physically okay. I flex my biceps, but I don't hold it. It seems like a ridiculous thing to do, showing off my muscles. They didn't do me much good in the ring earlier today and won't for the foreseeable future.


Cody (me)
So physically, I'm cool. Mentally? I'm a mess. I'm obsessing over how I got myself in this position. How did I think it was okay to mess with my best friends life so much? Am I kidding myself, thinking that Ryan will ever forgive me? Would I forgive me? Is he just using my guilt to find new ways to use, abuse and humiliate me?

Ryan, my now ex-best friend
Up until a few hours ago, I still thought Ryan was my best friend  the Alfred to my Bat. It turns out he hated me for months, maybe longer. Now, its all out in the open and he says that he's done with me. On the plus side, we own an adult wrestling video company together called The Cave, so he cant be completely done with me. I know he's not going to walk away from it and neither am I. In fact, there's actually a chance for me to use our business partnership to repair our personal relationship.

While I'm not completely sure what to do, I know that I want to regain his friendship. I still do love Ryan. I mean that in a platonic way, even though he's a very attractive muscle man. Weve just been through way too much for me to think about that right now. Anyway, Ryan has made it clear that he will only interact with me for Cave business and only then if he's in complete control. Since up to now, Ive only been lead talent, with him running everything else, I need to do what he says. The Cave doesnt exist without him. And since he thinks I'm completely narcissistic and self-absorbed, any resistance from me will just cement his opinion.

The fact is, I am sorry and I do regret what I did to him. So if the only way I can prove that is letting him call the shots for awhile, that's what I need to do.

As I stand here, I can't help but fixate on what happened today. How Ryan beat, fucked and exposed me in the ring, live over the internet. In his 6'4"/250-lbs alter ego of Bane, he thoroughly destroyed my alter ego, The Bat, and ended my reign as undefeated, undisputed star of our wrestling site.

Then I go over what came after all of that. I thought it was over. Ryan had unmasked himself and revealed his anger. I took all the blame and begged for forgiveness. I had no idea that there was a lot more to come.

Flashback: The Challenge

It was right after the match. Ryan/Bane had broken me down for probably an hour at least, just torturing every part of my body until, after a devastating over-the-knee backbreaker, I had no choice but to strip off my trunks and mask, handing him my identity and pride. After the cameras went off and I regained consciousness, Ryan revealed himself. Honestly, that did more damage than the fight. Mentally, at least. I was forced to confront my shameful behavior that had led to this moment.

Ryan was kicking me out of his life. He wanted me to relinquish my role in The Cave, but I refused. He tried to get me to put it up as stakes, but I refused. I told him I could change and be a better friend. That's when the whole ego discussion happened. He challenged me to prove I could change.

Anyway, Ryan/Bane was helped by this guy who filmed the squash while pretending to be Ryan/Cameraman. Well, as I try to talk to the real Ryan, Mr. Cameraman stepped in, like he was defending him. First, Ryan didn't exactly need defending, as he proved. Second, this was family business. Ryan and I had been friends for 18 years, since we were ten. Mr. Cameraman needed to step off.

Ryan then started defending Pete (Mr. Cameraman's real name). It became a huge debate and debacle and, more importantly, completely off-topic! However, one thing led to another and in the end, I ended up changing into a pair of skimpy white trunks and white pro boots, borrowed from our supply of gear that we keep for wrestlers without their own gear. There I was, walking through the curtain, headed to the ring, getting ready to face off in a stakes match with Pete.

Me
What? Yeah, that was my reaction. It was an emotional time. I don't remember how it all happened, but that's what happened.

Wrestling Pete

As I waited there, Pete finally came through the black curtain from the locker room. Whoa, I realized that how big he was, as he emerged wearing black trunks pulled up to his navel, black knee pads and black pro boots. He was definitely Ryan's henchman, as his trunks had the same symbol as Bane's mask on the front.

I shouldnt have been surprised by his size, but I was. Operating the camera, Pete was posing as fat Ryan, who was 6'4" (but always seemed shorter because he was slouching) and a soft 300-lbs before he transformed himself into a gorgeous muscle stud through the power of hate. Yes, another motivational success story for my day job as a personal trainer, but not one I'll share with potential clients.

I realized that Pete was actually a little shorter than Ryan, only 6'2" tall, but he was definitely at least 300-lbs. Hes probably more, but its not like he weighed in, so lets call him an even 300. He was round, pasty and hairy, but the fact that he had boots and trunks at the ready suggested he was not a novice. I knew the gear was his, because none of ours would fit around that 48 (total guess) waist and those 20" (another guess) calves.

Pete, Ryan's buddy
I had never wrestled a guy this big before, but I had watched enough wrestling to understand the basic concept. Size and my weakened condition were his advantages. Speed was mine. Looking at his arms, I thought I probably had more power, especially on the ground, but there wouldn't be any lifts or body scissors from me.

I watched Pete waddle up the aisle for a second then I turned to face the corner. I started stretching out my aching shoulders, using the ring ropes on either side of the corner and stretching back. My mistake, but I didnt really think that Pete would be able to get into the ring very fast. I heard Ryan ring the bell, but before I could even turn around, I heard heavy stomps coming up behind me.

Pete must have sprinted as soon as I turned. The big man took it to me as soon as he entered the ring. He charged at me in the corner, splashing into me before I could even turn. His 300-lbs literally crushed me, front first into the corner. I had never felt anything like that before. It was all I could do not to pass out from the impact. After everything Ryan did to me earlier, I had overestimated my stamina. One move and I was pretty much done.

Pete reached forward and grabbed my head. I was like a wet noodle in his grip. The big man slammed my face into the turnbuckle three times then let me sag down in the corner. He peppered my back with fists then lifted his big boot and stomped the middle of my back.

I heard Pete say, Ry, I cant believe you said this asshole was tough. Hes nothin.

I shook my head out, trying to stand and focus. I finally turned around after being attacked, as Pete actually waited for me. The fact that he felt no need to capitalize on his advantage was probably one of the most disrespectful things that he could have done to me as a man. It was up to me to prove him wrong, but I was completely wobbly.

Pete forced me into a lock up. I lifted my knee up into his gut, but it didn't affect him at all. Bane's henchman used his weight to overpower me into the ropes then bring a big forearm across my wide open pecs. Pete did it again then brought his knee into my white spandex-covered pouch. I tried to double over, but the big man held me firmly back.

"Shit, you got nothin, Punk. Nothin."

My beefy opponent grabbed my arm and whipped me across the ring. He leveled me with a shoulder block on the rebound, sending me crashing onto my back and shoulders. UNH!

Pete cried out, "WOO! You can't move this! You can't move this!" as I went down.

The big man slapped his huge chest with his fist, showing Ryan his power. I didn't even have time to move before he laid the boots to me, the soles of his black patent leather wrestling boots softening my torso up. My contribution to the banter was something like, "UH! UH! UH! UH!" as he stomped the crap out of me.

(Let me say that Ive been stomped many times, but when 300-lbs are behind it, its a whole new level of pain.)

"C'mon, boy, I got some more for you. Let's see what those muscles can take."

Pete grabbed my hair and forced me to my feet. I followed, compliant and submissive, face grimacing with the pain from this early abuse. Again, he whipped me across the rope and leveled me with a shoulder block, emphasizing that he was the man, the one with the power.

Using my hair, again, the massive mound of man forced me to my feet. Pete backed me into the corner, giving me a forearm to the side of my head. He whipped me hard into the opposite corner. I crashed in on my back, only to see Pete running at me full speed. He actually left his feet before splashing into me, crushing me between the irresistible force (his charging 300-lbs) and the immovable object (the ring corner). I sagged from the impact, but before I could fall, I was thrown across to the other corner, where I was splashed again!

The entire ring shook as Pete used his beef to its full advantage. When he stepped away, I sagged to my butt, helpless in the corner. The arrogant big man sauntered around the ring, opening his arms wide for Ryan, smiling and nodding. Ryan cheered his henchman on, encouraging him to abuse me more. He lifted his boot and planted it on my chest. Pete pressed down, forcing me against the bottom turnbuckle, breaking me down.

Pete bent over and slapped me hard across the face, demonstrating his complete dominance. He dragged me up by my hair then slapped me again, inviting me to strike back, but I just hung on the ropes, barely able to stand. Pete grabbed my hair and pulled me out from the corner. He reached down and effortlessly lifted me up across his chest. The big man carried me around the ring before turning and power slamming me into the mat, driving his full weight down on top of me. I couldn't even arch my back, because Pete was resting across my stomach.

"Is that all you got? Is that all you got, punk? That's all you are. A pathetic little punk."

Pete flexed his bicep for Ryan as he moved to straddle my waist. The massive mammoth slapped my face again. I reached up to grab his wrists, but he lifted his ass and brought it down hard. This simple action drove the air out of me. Pete slid back, crushing my spandex-covered crotch with his ass. The big dude started punching my abs and chest at will. I couldn't do anything but take it. I could tell that he was enjoying this, breaking down my hard-earned muscle with his fists.

Eventually, as I offered no resistance, Pete rose up, stomped me again and paused to show off for Ryan. I realized that he was preening for his boss, showing Bane that he was worthy. I tried to rise, but once again, the evil henchman grabbed my hair. I fired a fist into his stomach, but it did nothing but make him laugh.

The huge heel challenged me, "Try again!"

I didnt move, so Pete dragged me to my knees then stepped back. He put his hands on his hips. I fired another fist, but again he just laughed it off. I sent a third fist into his stomach, but I couldnt impact his giant gut. In return, he drove a fist across my face and sent me sprawling back to the mat. Pete planted a foot on my stomach and walked over me then did it again. It was an apt action, as I was just a doormat at that point.

The big dude said, "C'mon, I got lots more for you, jobber punk!"

To be continued ...

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