Route 69 S102: Baltimore MD (Part 1)

 “So, I guess now we’re allowing boyfriends to hang out in the ring. So much for old school.”

My name is Ben and that comment? It’s directed at me. Probably because I am not a wrestler, but I am standing in the ring. I was looking up at the lighting, making notes. Now, I’m looking at Terrence, the nearly-naked stud on the floor below who said it. Terrence is a handsome 6'1"/210-lbs black muscleman already packed into the orange trunks with the tiger stripe panel in front that he's planning to wear in the ring tonight.

Under different circumstances, I'd admire his good looks and chiseled body, but I don’t really have time for bullshit as I have a long list of pre-show items to check out in my role as … well, I’m not sure what my title would be. I’m 25 and was planning to drive around the country finding myself along with my best friend Jeff. However, plans can change. Two days into our trip, I suddenly became in charge of marketing and promotion for the tiny local pro wrestling federation known as CLAW (Championship League of American Wrestling).

We’ve got a show in a few hours, here in Baltimore, just 50 miles from Arlington County VA, where our stable of 20 or so aspiring pro wrestlers train and hold weekly (poorly attended) shows, alternating at local bars and community centers. This Baltimore show is an additional gig that I secured, my first effort at running something, so it’s going to be fucking perfect. I’ve taken it upon myself to get hands on with every aspect the public sees. To be successful, you have to pay attention to the details.

Before I can even respond to Terrence, he’s flanked by two other wrestlers. Jeff is one and the other is a new friend, Eddie. He wrestles as Eddie Kaine and is the unofficially adopted son of the owner of CLAW, Derek Kaine. Jeff joining the roster is the reason why I accepted this role, while Eddie is … an unexpected fringe benefit of the job.

 

Eddie asks angrily, “What the fuck did you just say? Was that a gay joke?”

Terrence feels threatened, as the two muscle studs surround him. Eddie, dressed in street clothes, is a solid 6'/210-lbs of all-American beefcake, while Jeff, tanned in his black wrestling trunks, is 6'2"/225-lbs of shredded muscle. Terrence holds up his hands, saying, “Re-fucking-lax, boys. It was not a gay joke. Just asking what happened to the rule about wrestlers only in the ring?”

Jeff jabs his finger into Terrence’s left pec, “We got this Baltimore show, 'cause of that guy. Fans are showin’ up, 'cause of that guy. You might get paid, 'cause of that guy. You don’t like it, why don’t I throw you out on your ass then you won’t have to worry about it.”

Terrence knocks Jeff’s hand away and both men look like they’re about to throw down, so I step in.

“Jeff, Eddie. Knock it off. Don’t you guys have moves to run through? You’re up first tonight. You’re setting the tone for the whole night, so be ready.” My two defenders go silent, but I can tell they’re seething. Terrence relaxes when Jeff stops touching him and takes a step back. I know they think they’re protecting me, but I'm also learning that’s not the way this world works. I need to defend myself.

“As for you, Terrence, I may not be on CLAW’s roster, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a wrestler.” To emphasize my point, I leap over the top rope and land perfectly on the floor in front of him, tensing my muscles. At 6'/205-lbs, I'm the smallest of the four of us, but not by much. And my muscles are as tough as any of theirs. Hell, I beat Eddie in the ring not too long ago.

I look Terrence in the eye, “If you want proof, I’d be happy to oblige. But not until after this fucking show tonight.”

Terrence actually backs off, saying he didn’t mean anything by it. He heads to the back without further incident. Jeff and Eddie slap me on the back, congratulating me for becoming a bad-ass. I tell them to get back to work and they sarcastically respond in unison, “Yes, sir!”

I finish up my checklist and report into Derek, who seems pleased and nervous. This is his baby. I’ve given him a prominent role in the show, using his star power as an 80’s wrestling icon in promotion. His son Mitchell is headlining the main event. At first, Derek opposed it, feeling like it looked like nepotism and Mitch wasn't ready. I fought back, reminding him that I just got our online presence up and my PR blitz has just begun.  I explained that “See the next generation of the Kaine family” is the strongest card we’ve got in our deck until we get more video up and build up the names of our other guys. Eddie Kaine leads off the show with a win over newcomer Jeff then Mitch Kaine closes with a match against the CLAW champ that devolves into a locker room clearing brawl of the whole roster that leaves Derek, Mitchell, Eddie and the other faces in the ring after driving the heels out.

When the time comes, we actually have some paying attendees. Hallelujah. Derek is the expert on what happens in the ring, so during the show, I’m backstage, sending the wrestlers out, making sure they’re ready and making sure they’re healthy when they return. After Terrence’s match, I’m checking on him, keeping things business, but the earlier encounter hangs there between us.

Terrence bridges the tension, saying, “I want you to know that I really didn’t mean anything bad about you being gay. I didn’t even realize it’d be taken that way. I only said that because you’re with Jeff and Derek makes a big deal about only wrestlers in the ring. It was out of line. Sorry, dude.”

I smile, relieved by the comment. I respond, “It’s okay, but I’m not with Jeff. We’re just friends.”

“Oh. Eddie?”

I sigh. “No, Derek hired me because I have good ideas, not because I’m dating anyone in the fed.”

Terrence hangs his head. He says, “Shit, either you’re too sensitive or I’m an idiot. I keep putting my foot in my mouth. Sorry again, dude. You’re doing a good job. Really good.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch or pull away, which I think is a good sign. I tell him, “I get it. But I’m single, I just happen to be good at making friends with hot guys.”

Terrence looks at me, “Huh. Okay. So what would you say if I said I do want proof.”

“What?”

“You said you’d prove you’re a wrestler after the show. So, I’m taking you up on your offer. Prove it to me.”

I nod. I agree to meet up after the show and give him all the proof he wants. When he walks away, I wonder what the hell I’m thinking. Oh well, when in Rome.

After the Show

Everything went really well. Using my fraternity friends and other personal connections, I got guys from a community newspaper and two local radio stations to show up. We’re old school, which fits right into the men’s movement theme covered by two local bloggers who attended. I even got a gay wrestling blogger based in Richmond to make the trip up. I gave everyone access to pics and interviews with any guy they wanted. Of course Derek was the most popular, followed by Mitch and Eddie. The newspaper guy even took a pic of the three of them showing off the Kaine Klaw move Derek’s father made famous. Four of the other guys, including Jeff, got some serious attention, which will hopefully result in coverage.

I’m stoked and so are the guys. Being interviewed was new for them, but exciting. They felt like stars. Derek even congratulates me, saying I’m justifying his faith in me. Everyone heads out for a beer, deciding to leave the ring intact until morning. Everyone except Terrence and me, that is. I didn’t forget and neither did he. I tell Jeff and Eddie, as I never lie to Jeff about anything and don’t plan to start lying to Eddie. They want to stay, but I say no. I need to do this myself.

When I walk in the back, Terrence is sitting on a folding chair in new trunks and boots. The trunks are white with animal print down the front. They’re hot and I can’t maintain a poker face. When he sees the look I give him, he gets a smirk on his face. Terrence slides his hand down his torso then scratches his balls. He says, “Man, I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

I raise an eyebrow at the move, “What’re the rules?”

“We’re wrestling.”

“Okay. And?”

Terrence slowly rises. He slides his hand into his trunks, adjusting his balls and cock. He moves in close to me, putting that same hand on my chest. He leans in and says, “Winner’s choice. If you’re feeling lucky.”

I respond, “Sure,” but I’ve not been this unsure about anything for awhile.

Getting Ready

In the back, I pull on a jock and a pair of my trunks. I brought a few pairs in case one of the guys had a wardrobe malfunction or something, but now they’ll come in handy. As I lace up my boots, I try to figure out what Terrence’s angle is. Was the ball thing just a guy adjusting himself or him sending me a message? And the boyfriend questions? Is he gay? On the DL? Hitting on me? Or just fucking with me? I wish I really did have gaydar.

Terrence walks in and bursts out laughing. “What the hell are those? Granny panties? Seriously?”

My face turns red. I respond, “Yeah, they’re a little big, but I brought them as a backup for the show. A family show. G-rated. A guy can’t wear a thong.”

“Shit, those are ridiculous. I can’t wrestle a guy wearing those. No, no, no. I’ve got a pair here. I’ve packed on a lot of muscle …” Terrence flexes for me, showing off, before continuing, “… so they’re too small for me, but they’ll fit you good. I’ll meet you in the ring. Oh man.”

Terrence tosses me a pair of black trunks from his bag and saunters out, still laughing. I pull the trunks on, noticing they have a zebra stripe panel in the front. I stretch them on and they are tight, hanging really low at the front. Still, they feel great and my pouch and ass look great in them. Okay, Terrence is clearly gay and we’re going to fuck when this is done. I think. Or I hope. Well, we’ll see.

Finally ready, I jog out to the ring area and see Terrence waiting in the ring. He’s standing on the middle turnbuckle, looking down at me. Fuck, he looks so good up there. He nods and points at the trunks, confirming that they’re much, much better.

With the gear debate settled, it’s time for the match.

Ben vs. Terrence

Terrence wrestled a fifteen-minute match earlier tonight, but he looks fresh. I warm up outside the ring, stretching and jogging in place to warm up my muscles. The muscular pro wrestler stares me down the entire time, checking me out as he turns in the corner, taking a seat on the top turnbuckle. I feel good, so I move to the ring and slide under the bottom rope. I want to test things out and get a good feeling for the squared circle, but Terrence has other ideas.

As I slide under the bottom rope, Terrence watches me carefully. With me lying on my stomach, he suddenly leaps in the air, splashing down on my back! BOOYAH! ARGH! I feel the air leave my body as he lands, crushing me under his weight. The black muscleman spins on top of me then locks up my arms in a full nelson, which crushes my face against the mat.

“See, a real pro wrestler wouldn’t have fallen for that.”

I feel Terrence’s cock against my ass as he straddles my waist. I moan as he pulls the nelson tighter and tighter. I suffer in the hold, unable to break free. Terrence keeps increasing the pressure, holding me down for a long time. Damn, it’s not a great start, but I’m not done, yet. I use my legs to roll us over, putting Terrence on his back under me. He uses the opening to wrap his legs around my waist, locking on a scissors. He squeezes me in his legs as he draws my arms closer and closer together

Terrence taunts me, “Bad move! You sure you’re a wrestler?”

I grunt, “I’m sure!”

I plant my feet and bridge up, driving my hips down. My ass slams into his package as he’s crushed between me and the canvas. I lift my hips and do it again, which distracts him enough that his legs open. I force my arms down in a sudden burst and break the nelson. Free, I roll over and pin Terrence’s arms down while wrapping my legs around his. I force his legs out wide, applying a hard grapevine, one of my favorite moves. With our bulges aligned, I subtly grind mine on top of his, trying not to be too obvious.

Terrence smiles up at me, “Nice move. UNGH!” The handsome stud presses up, trying to force my arms up, but I manage to keep him pinned.

I widen my legs, splitting the grapevine even farther. This time, he groans as he feels the stretch in his groin. I keep the pressure up, hoping to weaken him. In his pro matches, he’s a high-flyer, but I have no idea how he plans to wrestle me. As this is only my third time wrestling in a ring, I plan to keep us on the canvas, using submission tactics.

As I keep working my grapevine, Terrence shifts his arms outward. I force them down, but he manages to slip them out with a quick jerk inside. He shoots his free arms up around my head, clamping on a front facelock. The black musclestud really works it and I lose the power in my legs. Terrence slips his legs free and brings them up around my waist. Before he can lock them, I thrust my legs and hips up. I rise to a headstand then come down, slamming a knee into Terrence’s rock hard abs.

Upon impact, Terrence loses his grip and I pull my head up and out. He manages to push me off and we scramble to our feet. The two of us hand fight, each trying to get a controlling grip on the other.

Terrence asks, “So, you ever wrestled in a ring before?”

“Only twice,” I respond, before adding, “So try not to be too embarrassed when you lose.”

Terrence smirks and charges forward. He ducks low, reaching for my legs, while I reach over his back around his waist. I manage to spread my legs and keep him from toppling me before I lift his feet off the mat and flip him over in a takedown. WHAM! He lands hard on his back and I climb on top of him. I dig my knee into his inner thigh, pinning one leg while I grab his right arm, folding his hand in beside his head. I push up on his trapped arm and I’m rewarded by a grimace.

While under me, Terrence asks, “Where were these rings?”

I’m surprised he wants to chat, “What?”

“I want to know – UNH – how embarrassed I should be!”

“Pretty embarrassed … one is the CLAW facility in Arlington and the other was … WHOA!”

Terrence presses up and flips us over. He straddles my waist then forces his left forearm across my cheek and grabs my left wrist. I feel his weight pressing on my face as he holds me down. POW! He slugs my side repeatedly. Not all out, but not soft, either. I use my legs to try and free myself, but Terrence keeps countering me. I feel his bulge on mine and he’s definitely getting hard as we struggle. He feels my pec then peppers it with semi-hard punches.

“So where was this other one?”

“LA.”

“Really? Who’s ring?”

I try to remember the name of the indie federation who trains there, not wanting to admit I got there through a gay wrestling video company, but I can’t. When I don’t answer, he grabs my nipple and squeezes hard. “Tell me … or else!”

Fuck, the nipple pinch hurts, so I decide it’s better to just admit it. “Place called the Cave. You probably never heard –”

Terrence eases up. As he straddles my waist, he leans forward and puts his hands on my pecs. He looks down at me with a huge smile. “The Cave? You wrestled for THE fucking Cave? Who are you?” He looks up and down my body, “Mako?”

“No. It was just their ring, not on video. With the guys who run it.” POW! Terrence starts working over my pecs with light, playful punches.

“Shit, I thought you wrestled the guys, like on a video.”

“Well, the guys who run it are The Bat and Bane. Those are the two I wrestled.”

SMACK! Terrence hits my chest harder, saying, “Fuck off! You wrestled the fucking BAT and fucking BANE! Shut the fuck up! Oh man, dude, I am impressed. You’ve finally impressed me in this ring.”

“Good. Let’s see how you feel about this!”

I buck my hips and throw Terrence off me. As we roll, I move to sit on his chest. I extend my legs past his head then pull his face into my package and fall to the side. I quickly close my legs over his head, tightening them into a hard scissors. He moans and swings to punch my abs, but I grab his wrists. Terrence rolls us, putting me on my back. He moves to slip out, but I bring my feet down hard, driving him flat onto his stomach. I sit up as he breathes in my crotch musk.

I crush hard on the hold as Terrence’s hands run over my body. He punches at my abs and legs, but I don’t stop squeezing. Realizing he’s not getting anywhere, the pro wrestler plants his feet and lifts his hips. He pushes up, folding me in half, then launches off from his feet. Taking a page from my book, he flips over, his head squirting free as he falls to the side. I roll up and we kneel across from each other.

“You win?”

As he says it, Terrence springs forward from his knees, clotheslining me flat on my back. He hops up and comes down with an elbow across my chest. OOF! Lying across my chest, Terrence locks my left arm between his legs and wraps his left arm around my head. He pulls my face up into the side of his pec as he flexes his bicep against my temple.

“AH! Win what?”

“Against Bat and Bane.”

“UNH! You sure like to talk.”

“So you lost.”

I suffer as Terrence keeps talking, telling me how he actually sent an audition video to The Cave, wanting to make some extra cash, but they wouldn’t pay for him to travel to California. I grunt out that they’re a small organization and he tells me it’s all cool. Then he applies more pressure, cranking even harder.

My forehead is turning red as my neck is stretched. I realize that Terrence uses talking to distract, so I ignore his bullshit and slam my right fist into his back. I’m able to pry my left hand free then roll us over. Terrence keeps working the headlock as I push us up to our feet and hammer his back with kidney shots. POW! POW! POW! When Terrence doesn’t give up, I shove my arm between his legs and lift up.

Before he knows it Terrence is across my shoulders, hanging in a backbreaker. The pro wrestler moans as I crank on his head and leg, amping up the pressure on his back. For the first time, the only sound coming from Terrence is a low groan. I bounce him as I walk, trying to get a quick submission, but he’s tough. The pro wrestler suddenly thrusts his right arm and leg up. The force sends me forward as he rolls on my shoulders and neck. Before I know it, I’m stumbling to one knee and he’s grabbing the top rope. Terrence pulls himself free, falling to his feet.

From behind me, I hear, “Not bad, man. That mighta done it. Second time you’ve impressed me in this ring tonight.”

When I turn, I’m met with two boots to the chest, as Terrence delivers a standing drop kick. I stagger back, falling into the corner as he manages to land on his feet like a cat. Terrence moves in, leaping into a handstand right in front of me. I’m surprised and can’t think how to counter, giving him the chance to bring his feet over my shoulders and lock them behind my head. Terrence pulls forward, yanking me from the corner, flipping me over and onto my back. CRASH! I land hard, but then Terrence’s butt crashes onto my chest and I feel the air leave me. OOF!

“I get that you like the mat, but I like the air, dude.”

Like a spring, Terrence bounces up, feet straddling my waist. He jumps up and actually does a standing flip, circling 270-degrees, splashing down hard on top of my body. WHOOF! Terrence’s mouth keeps running as he grinds his pouch into mine. The black musclestud lies on top me for a moment, taking full advantage of our position then he rolls off me quickly. I’m still dazed when I feel his hand wrap around mine. Terrence helps me to my feet then runs back into the ropes. I see him coming at me, but he’s too fast. Before I know it, he’s in the air. The pro wrestler wraps his legs around my head then pulls me forward, flipping me over. I land hard on my back again, but this time I’m trapped in a head scissors.

Terrence is still talking non-stop as I moan in the hold. I’m disoriented from all the flipping and having my head squeezed isn’t helping. I sit up, but Terrence forces me back down on my back. I bridge, but Terrence reaches back and pounds on my stomach. FUCK! I drop back down, catching my breath, trying to fight the force of his incredibly muscular legs. The long-held hold is punishing me, but not getting a submission. I keep fighting, finally managing to turn to face his crotch.

We lie on our sides on the mat as I swing up my knee and slam it into his back. I do it again and his scissors weakens enough to slip my head out. I act fast, rolling over on top of the pro wrestler and straddling his back, facing his feet. I reach for his legs and manage to grab them. I fold his right ankle in front of the left one and pull back, lifting his hips up as I sit on him. I pull hard, going after his back again. Terrence lets out a soft groan as I work the hold.

I lean back to amp up the pressure, but I lean too far, giving Terrence the opportunity to reach back and wrap his arm over my throat. He wrenches me back as he kicks forward and I lose my hold. Terrence tries to lock me up, but I roll to the side. As he gets to hands and knees, I charge in, tackling him down. We roll on the mat, fighting for top position. I realize he might be stronger and he's definitely faster, but I manage to block him from getting a clear advantage.

It’s exhausting and we both start to fatigue. Terrence even stops talking. Despite my best efforts, he manages to finally mount me, but he can’t get a good hold. As I block his arms, I shoot my fists up into his pecs. They bounce off, but he pauses for a moment, giving me the time to throw him off. We both rise to our feet, adjusting our trunks and taking in deep breaths. We pace on opposite sides of the ring, checking each other out as we circle. I see a newfound respect in Terrence’s eyes as he nods at me.

“I liked that torture rack. That was nice. Yeah, yeah. So, was Eddie a good fuck?”

I’m surprised, which is exactly what Terrence wanted. While I’m thinking about his question, he’s lifting his boot right into my abs. I bend over and Terrence grabs my hair, forcing my head down between his legs. Before I know it, he’s hoisting me up and over his shoulder in his own backbreaker. I moan as he paces the ring with me hanging from his shoulder. Fuck! Terrence turns his head towards me and I hear him sniffing my flesh again. If I wasn’t in real pain, I might actually ask what's up with that.

Terrence bounces me on his shoulder as he says, “You never answered me. How was Eddie?”

“UNH!” I kick my feet, but Terrence keeps a tight grip.

Terrence says, “C’mon, tell me … you know I can make you answer.”

“UNH! Okay, okay, okay! He was great.” Terrence drops me to the canvas.

I rub my back, saying, “That wasn’t nice.”

Terrence says, “Yeah, you’re right. Okay, free shot.” He puts his hands behind his head and tenses his abs. He again invites me to punch him in the stomach. I wonder what the scam is, but he assures me I get a free shot because he took advantage of my "inexperience and gullibility." I’m slightly offended, but he says it with a really charming smile. I'm certainly not going to ignore this opening.

I walk up and look over his abs. I reach out and run my hand over the muscle, testing the ripped flesh. It feels nice. As I feel his abs, I see a wiggle in the front of his trunks. Deciding I found my spot, I pull back and slam my fist into his gut. Terrence staggers backwards one step, but his abs hold. He invites me to try again. This time, he grunts and takes two steps back. He offers me a third shot. I pull back, slamming into him even harder this time. Terrence grunts and steps back. He’s smiling as he drops his hands. I see some discoloration on his ebony skin, but he looks unfazed. I rub his abs again, realizing that I gave him three hard shots and he’s just fine.

I tell him, “Now it’s my turn to be impressed.”

“I can tell,” Terrence smiles.

The handsome hunk whips his hand out. It moves too fast for me to react as he flicks my engorged cock, which is seriously tenting out the front of the black and zebra trunks. The move doesn’t hurt, but it surprises me. I fall for the oldest trick in the book and look down at my bulge, but I’m one move behind. Terrence charges in and reaches between my legs. He hoists me up across his chest then slams me down. WHAM! ARGH!

Terrence circles me as I roll to hands and knees. I watch his feet and when he gets close enough, I reach out and grab his ankle then kick my foot as I pull. He topples over and I manage to keep hold of his leg. I twist on his lower leg, putting pressure on the knee. He rolls onto his stomach and I lock on a single leg crab. I lean back as he curses. Terrence moans in the hold, trying to power out, but I hold him securely. I decide it’s my turn to ask the questions.

“So you ever wrestled Eddie? Privately, I mean?”

Terrence doesn’t respond until I lean back even further. He blurts out, “No! I don’t think he even knows I’m gay. UNH! Fuck.”

“How come?" Pause, not response. I warn him, "You’re not the only one who can force answers.” I punch his hamstring hard.

Terrence grits his teeth, but another punch gets him talking. “Shit! Yeah, yeah. I figure it's not smart to fuck around with the boss’ son. Even if he’s not a real son, Derek’s loves that boy like he is.”

I agree, even realizing that's exactly what I'm doing. Once again, my mind wanders as I think about what Terrence is saying. UNH! The pro wrestler pushes up with his arms and kicks out, forcing me to release the crab as I stumble forward. He rolls to a seated position then looks up at me, smiling. I can tell he’s taking a minute, so I wait. As I stand there with my hands on my hips, I realize that I’m winded, too.

Terrence says, “You’re not bad. In fact, that’s twice you almost got me to submit. Almost.”

I smirk at him. “Closer than you’ve ever gotten.” I strike a sexy double bicep pose, thrusting my hips forward.

Terrence’s eyes narrow, but he has a smirk on his face. He pushes himself to his feet and shakes out his arms and legs. I feel pretty confident as we circle once again. This time, I think I’m ready for any distraction or bullshit he tries. When he moves in, Terrence kicks up with his right boot aimed straight for my abs. I grab his boot before it can connect, but Terrence surprises me. He leaps off his left foot and swings it up, slamming the boot into my right shoulder.

I topple into the ropes as Terrence falls to the mat. He spins onto his back, anticipating me. Terrence is right, as I bounce off right back at him. I crash into his feet slamming into my abs, kicking back into the ropes. Again I bounce off, this time with more force. I stumble back into his feet only to have him flip me overhead. CRACK! I land hard on my tailbone across the ring. 

By the time I’m back up, Terrence is on top of me. He grabs my wrist and pushes me into the ropes. Before I can react, he pulls me off, whipping me across the ring. I know I’m in trouble, as this happens so much faster than it looks on television. By the time I’ve figured out what to do, I’m bouncing off right into a cross body black. I try to grab Terrence’s muscular body, but his momentum and weight catch me off guard. WHAM! I crash down to the mat under him, crushed by his weight. My shoulders take the brunt of the impact, but his weight also empties my lungs.

The black musclestud rolls off me and runs to the corner. From the second turnbuckle, he leaps at me and splashes down, slamming into me with his 210-lbs of solid muscle. OOF! I try to curl up, but Terrence lies across my chest and holds me down flat. Before I can really react, he’s up again. As before, Terrence does a standing flip, crashing down on top of me for the fourth time in about 30 seconds.

I cough while the muscleman flips me over onto my stomach. Terrence rises up and moves over me down at my knees. He steps on the back of my legs then locks my ankles around the inside of his knees, securing them on his shins. I instinctively reach back, making his next move too easy – he grabs my wrists and pulls them up into a surfboard. I feel myself being rocked as Terrence pulls my torso up off the mat then lets me fall. On the third lift, he manages to get me all the way up. Terrence lies on his back as I hang there, looking up at the ceiling. My shoulders and knees ache then my back starts as I’m held up in the air, helpless in the cruel hold.

I refuse to submit, but it’s not easy. My ass sinks lower and lower, increasing the pressure and the pain, as I can’t maintain my position. I hang there for quite a while before Terrence rolls me to the left, allowing me to crash down onto the mat. I can’t move fast enough to avoid his next torture. He grabs a wrist and ankle, planting his foot into my back and pulling me back. I cry out as my back is stretched the wrong way as he bends my body to his will.

I can’t break free, powerless to break his grip. Still, though, I refuse to give. Terrence lets go again, kicking me onto my stomach. He rolls to his feet then runs to the ropes, bouncing off and splashing onto my back. WHAM! Every splash seems to hurt a little more. This one feels like he weighs 400-lbs. Terrence wastes no time rising to his feet. I try to crawl forward as he steps over me and straddles my hips.

Before I know it, Terrence forces my legs up, wedging them under his armpits and holding them aloft while he reaches down and grabs my wrists. Next thing I know, he’s lifting me up into a teardrop. The pain in my back is more intense than anything I’ve ever felt as I hang there, my arms and legs touching as I’m folded in two the wrong way. I swing in the hold, my head and chest just above the canvas. Gravity is a bitch as my own weight adds pressure. Sweat from Terrence and I mixes and runs down my body, rolling off my torso and face and pooling below us.

I moan, trying to hold out. This has got to be tough on Terrence, too, as he supports my full 205-lbs of muscle. I focus on that, willing myself to hold out longer than him, telling myself my muscles can outlast him. Terrence starts swinging me harder and faster. I cry out loudly, but refuse to submit, in spite of his repeated requests. As pain shoots through my body, I’m ready to give when Terrence lets go. I fly forward, crashing down, chest first. I lie in a heap as the muscular pro wrestler stands behind me, looking down at my broken body.

Terrence kicks my boot, asking if I’m okay. I respond in a groan, “Never better.”

I hear the hunky wrestler laugh as he steps forward and lowers himself between my legs. I hear him sniffing again as he moves up my body, from my ass to my head. Terrence plants his butt on my back. He grabs my arms and pulls them up, over his knees. He reaches under my chin and cinches in the camel clutch. I moan loudly, suffering once again as my back starts to tighten up. Terrence pulls back further and further, commanding me to give.

I refuse, but I don’t know how much more I can withstand. Terrence removes one hand from my chin, rubbing my sweaty hair playfully. Fuck, I want to break free, but I realize I can’t. When he brings his big hand back to my chin and moves me back another inch, I know I’m done. I submit to the camel clutch, forced to admit defeat.

“GIVE! GIVE! GIVE!”

Terrence releases my chin, letting me collapse down on the mat. He leans forward to check if I’m okay. When I confirm I am, he rubs my shoulders then slides off me.

Terrence’s Choice

After a few minutes of recovery, I’m still pissed that I lost. I roll onto my back to finish up post-match stretching. Terrence hasn’t said anything since my submission, so I’m a little worried about what’s to come. After I stop stretching and just lie there, Terrence moves in, rolling back on top me. He straddles my waist, resting his ass on my bulge. The hot wrestler wipes the sweat from his face then relaxes. We stare into each other’s eyes as his ass presses down on my manhood.

Terrence smiles as he looks down at me. He says, “Good match. I gotta admit, whatever you wanted to prove, you proved it, man. Good moves.”

I actually smile, “So, can I come in the ring?”

Terrence gets a weird look, “Fuck, you just put it right out there, don’t you? I’d love to play a little first, but yeah, I guess you can cum right away. Didn’t know you were that excited.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

I ask, “What are you – OH! No, I meant, C-O-M-E, as in enter the ring. You thought I meant … okay. Duh. But back to business, stud. Play sounds fun, but it’s winner’s choice. What did you win?”

Terrence smiles. He rubs my chest then leans down to start sucking my nipples. I grab his head as he tackles my chest like a pro. I shake as he works my nipples until I can’t avoid squirming under him. He finally breaks off, pushing off my chest and rising to his feet. Terrence circles me, checking out my body and nodding his approval. He orders me to roll over and checks out my backside. He leans down and squeezes my ass. I moan with encouragement, signaling that it’s his for the taking.

Terrence drops down and lies over my back. He dry humps me through our trunks. I feel his hot breath in my ear as he asks, “Ooh boy, you sure?” I respond with an approving moan and he rises off me. I roll over and kneel in front of him, staring at his stretched spandex trunks.

I look up his rippling torso saying, “Oh fuck, am I ever sure. A deal’s a deal.”

Terrence orders me to stand up. He makes me strip for him, pulling off my borrowed trunks, boots and jock, tossing them to him. He sniffs my gear, just like he sniffed me during the match. He comes in close and grabs my cock in his big hand, pulling on it as he stares deep into my eyes. I stiffen up immediately, my dick filling his tight grip. He smiles then lets go. Terrence circles behind me, checking out my naked ass. He runs his fingers over it, causing me to jerk from the ticklish touch. Terrence palms both cheeks like basketballs then starts squeezing them like melons. He lets go of my right cheek then pulls the left one the side. He forces his finger against my hole as I breathe in sharply.

“Oh yeah. You’re so fucking hot,” Terrence tells me as he leans in and kisses my neck. I hear him sniffing in my scent again as he releases my ass and comes around in front of me. "Your ass is ridiculous, dude. I wish I had something with me." I don't think to ask what he means, lost in the moment.

His inspection done, Terrence pushes me gently back to the ropes. He orders me onto my knees and I drop immediately. He steps in close, his erect cock slapping my face. I’m pushed back until my back hits the ropes. Terrence reaches down and hooks my arms over the top rope. He moves in tight, his hips and trimmed crotch right in my face as he leans over me and grabs the middle rope. He pulls it up and binds my arms in the ropes. I moan and my cock pulses as I’m trapped.

“Tell me if your arms go numb or anything.” I nod, but my cock tells him this position is just fine.

Terrence steps back then kneels down. He kisses me deeply, as we enjoy the long, sensuous liplock. He pulls back then stands up. His cock comes at my face again, this time at my lips. I open my mouth as the tip touches my mouth and slides inside. I groan as he slowly forces his cock into my mouth. I adjust and keep taking more and more. Terrence remains gentle and thoughtful as he takes it easy, making sure I can handle his long dick.

When I’m comfortable, Terrence starts pumping faster and faster, fucking my face as I hang there, tied up in the ropes. He works his cock, running his hands through my hair as I twist my head around to work his cock. I love the feeling of his rod inside my mouth. He starts talking, ordering me to suck his dick (which I’m already doing), saying how much I love it, talking about how hot I am and how he’s going to cum down my throat. I use my lips, tongue and cheeks to work him, tasting the salty flavor or his pre-cum in my mouth. Terrence keeps pumping, hitting the back of my throat.

I gag for a moment and he pulls out, checking on me. I tell him he can keep going, but let him know how much I want his big cock inside me, telling him how hot he is.

Terrence groans as he says, “Fuck, I want your ass, but I didn’t bring anything. I didn’t know –“

“Is that what you meant? Don’t worry, I did.”

“You did?”

“I always do. I never leave home without protection. They’re in my bag, front left pocket.”

Terrence grins, “Don’t go anywhere.” We both look at my bound arms with a smile. Terrence rubs my hair then hops out of the ring, running to get condoms from my bag.

As I hang there, waiting for Terrence to return, I hear a familiar voice.

“Ben? You ready to -- whoa. What the fuck?”

To be continued ...