The Cave 5: Meet the Pink Punk (sigh)

I'm half asleep when I hear Ryan's voice, "Wakey-wakey, jobber boy. The Pink Punk has another match in twenty minutes." I feel light slaps on my face then ice water splashing down on my naked crotch. Not the best way to wake up, but effective. I jolt up, feel dizzy and fall back to the mat. I bring a hand to my aching head and slowly open my eyes.

Me (Cody) in my new identity, The Pink Punk

I look up and see Ryan's handsome face looking down at me with a huge smirk. The lights are bright and my bed feels awfully hard. I'm only 28. I'm too young to feel this sore. Then it hits me. I'm in the ring. Oh yeah, I just had my first match as the Pink Punk. I was wrestling a ginormous, roided out bodybuilder with a green Mohawk and purple trunks ... The Bulk. He put me out for real after he beat on me for twenty minutes and fucked me for two with his tiny dick. How long have I been out? Does it matter? Apparently not, as I've only got twenty minutes to gather myself for another match.

So my ring name is currently the Pink Punk. My real name is Cody and I used to be the undefeated star of a wrestling video company called The Cave, which I half own. I used to wrestle as The Bat, a superhero wrestler, until a week ago when Ryan, my then-best friend, kicked my ass, humiliated me and unmasked me for the world (well, our hundreds of followers) to see.

Let me be clear, that event is not why he's my former best friend. No, if it were up to me, we would still be friends. He did what he did only after I did what I did. I admit it, I wasn't a good friend and Ryan found out. He's still super-pissed, probably because he harbored a grudge for months before confronting me in the ring, in disguise, as the villain Bane. Not a healthy approach and not conducive to a forgive-and-forget mentality.

Anyway, now I'm the Pink Punk, jobber boy extraordinaire of The Cave. In my new role, I wear a pink mask (with no top, so there can be lots of hair pulling), white boots, along with pink trunks and thong that are sure to get stripped off me. Yes, it's as humiliating as it sounds.

So why am I doing it? I'm accepting my new role as penance for my misdeeds in the hopes that Ryan will see how sorry I am, that I've learned my lesson and that I'm a new man and can be a better friend. One week after our confrontation and it's not looking good on the Ryan front. He's still pretty hostile and taking full advantage of my guilt to use and abuse me.

It's not a complete stretch for me for assume this new role. Even though I've never really jobbed, I know how to suffer, moan and take a bump as well as anyone. I remember as a kid watching the WWL and the AWL, liking the guys who sold the moves and made the stars, like Harry Borowitz, Brett Gunn and Vinny Vegas. They always lost, but they did it well and had personality. I’ve also watched a lot of YouTube, seeing the classic matches from the 80's with hot jobbers like Danny Chase and Rex Taylor. So I get what fans want and if it repairs a nearly twenty-year friendship that I ruined, it'll all be worth it.

Anyway, I roll myself out of the ring to get ready for the second match of my new phase. Ryan calls out to me. I turn, excited that's he's talking to me, but I just get hit in the face with my pink thong and trunks. Oh well, Rome wasn't built in a day.

Introducing Redbird

I'm back in the ring, getting ready. No fancy entrance for me any longer, just his buddy Pete taking some video (we've got two handheld cameras going at once now, operated by Ryan and Pete, in addition to the stationaries). Ryan has me in full jobber mode, awaiting the man who will crush me next. I know my place if I want to continue to have interactions with my former best friend. I wonder who this monster will be. Between Ryan (6'4"/250-lbs), his buddy Pete (6'2"/300-lbs) and then the Bulk (6'1"/275-lbs), being squashed by big men has become the norm for me.

Ryan announces my opponent as Redbird. From the back, in comes this kid, dressed in red trunks, black boots and a black domino mask. I say "kid" because he looks young and fresh-faced. He has smooth skin, baby-ish face and blond hair. He's not a literal kid, but he's maybe 20? Redbird’s on the shorter side (5’8”), but he looks cute with a nice little muscle body (175-lbs). Actually, his body is better than nice. The whole package is smoking hot, in fact.

Redbird, my younger opponent 

Redbird's red trunks have an "R" on them, an homage to my former identity's sidekick. Of course I see it now. The Bulk softens me up for this especially humiliating match. I will be wrestling a smaller guy who’s using a sidekick-inspired gimmick. Let's not be coy. I'm Batman, forced into an embarrassing identity, losing to Robin. I'll give Ryan credit. He's creative, that's for sure.

Redbird points at me. He says, in a surprisingly authoritative voice, "You're going down, Pink Punk." He lifts his arms in victory, even though we haven't wrestled a move. Of course, he can afford to be cocky ... he's young, strong, fresh and didn't just get crushed by a muscle monster less than thirty minutes ago.

The Pink Punk vs. Redbird

The first thing I do is flex, challenging Redbird to pose. His muscles are impressive, but he's more of a mini-me than a full-grown stud. After a bit of showing off, we get right into it. We start circling around the ring. Redbird is a ball of energy. He’s hopping, ducking and dodging. His tight red trunks are jam-packed and hard to look away from, especially as he turns away from me.

Enjoying the view 

I’m fixated on his big beautiful ass and thick legs, as he suddenly turns and moves in to engage. I look up and reach out for lock up, but he hops into a spinning kick. The sole of his black boot slams into my chest, toppling me into the ropes. I fall through them and land hard on the concrete floor.

As I rise up and turn to the ring, I see Redbird running at me. He dives between the middle and top rope, flying into me with a shoulder block tackle. We fall to the floor, with me taking the brunt of the impact. Redbird rises up and again raises his hands in mock victory. I roll to hands and knees, only to get a hard kick to my side. I struggle to rise, but Redbird keeps knocking me down with his fast feet. The next time I rise, he tries to kick me, but I grab his foot and twist, toppling him down hard.

I finally get back to my feet, but Redbird has already sprung back to his, too. He grabs my head and slams it into the ring apron. As my head springs back, he leaps and delivers a spin kick to the back of my head. I fall forward, my head and arms going between the bottom and middle ropes. I hang on the bottom rope, lodging it under my armpits, trying to regain my wits and crawl into the ring.

Redbird hops to the ring apron where he stomps between my shoulder blades. I try to sweep my arm to trip him, but the bottom rope is in the way. I can't reposition myself, because the stomps are coming too fast and too furious. To escape the assault, I try to crawl up into the ring. Redbird vaults over the top rope and lands driving a boot into the back of my head. My face slams into the canvas and I hang there limply, half in and half out of the ring. My ass is held up by the bottom rope as I moan and hold my head, making for a great shot, I'm sure.

This young stud isn't huge, but that move still really hurt. I’m unable to move before he decides to move me. The speedy sidekick grabs my mask and hair, dragging my butt into the ring, but not my legs. Redbird forces me up and drapes my arms over the top rope. I hang on them, my knees and feet still hanging behind the bottom rope. With me trapped, it’s time for another series of kicks to my wide open torso.

My bulging pecs draw a lot of Redbird’s attention. Kicks and punches rain down on them until they’re red, soft and sagging, no longer high and proud. Redbird uses me as a heavy bag for a series of punches. I cry out with each strike, unable to gather myself enough to free my arms and legs.

My younger tormentor vaults over the sagging top rope and locks on a rear naked choke. He doesn't tighten it enough to knock me out, but he probably could have. The hold definitely saps my strength, making me even more dazed and confused. Behind me, Redbird releases the choke, grabs my wrists and hops down to the floor. He pulls back on my arms, stretching me down over the top rope. My feet catch on the ring apron and my knees lift bottom rope. The top rope rolls into my lower back, creating the effect of a backbreaker as my shoulders are torn from their sockets.

I'm really moaning now. My shoulders are aching as he braces a foot on the ring apron, just pulling down even harder. My back is aching as I'm folded back over the top rope. I drop my head and I can see the sidekick heel (at least he's a heel to me at this point) smiling with pure joy. My knees slip from under the bottom rope, causing Redbird to slip and lose his grip. I'm sliding over the ropes, but my feet catch on the bottom rope, saving me from a nasty fall.

I spring up and forward, falling face first onto the canvas. I braced for impact a little, enabling me to climb to my feet for the first time in too long. I spin to face Redbird, but he's not there. I look down at the floor, but no little muscleman. I don't have my full wits, given all I've been through today, including the rear naked choke just moments ago, so I just stare at where he should be, instead of processing where he is.

"Hey, Punk." I hear the voice then turn. Redbird has scampered to the opposite side of the ring and climbed to the top rope. He is in midair, coming in for a cross body. Normally, I would catch him, but he's timed it perfectly, hitting me just as I realize what's happening.

We crash back, knocking the air and focus out of me. Redbird goes for a pin as he lies across my chest, "ONE!" Pause. "TWO!" Pause. I manage to lift a shoulder in time, avoiding the humiliating loss of the first fall for the moment. Redbird grabs my wrist and pulls me up with him. I slide my arm between his leg, lifting him up for a body slam, but as I'm lifting, he manages to spin and catches my head between his legs.

Standing in the ring, with this young muscle brat hanging from my head by his muscular legs, I can't seem to stop him as he twists. I feel myself being pulled down and over, as he uses his momentum to flip me over. My world spins and the next thing I know, I'm on my back in a head scissors. I admired his butt earlier, but it's attached to a pair of mighty thick legs.

I'm quickly learning that the smaller wrestler has bigger, stronger legs than me. His powerful thighs tighten up as he flexes them around my head. I struggle and suffer in the head scissors, trying everything I can to break out. I lift my hips, but he pounds me back down with a fist to my abs. I twist from side to side, but I just can’t seem to muster the strength to break out.

“ONE!” I realize Redbird’s counting a pin. I shoot my arm up, lifting my shoulder. After suffering for some length of time, I finally manage to turn away. I press up until I’m basically doing a handstand in the scissors, facing towards his feet. I press up, elevating my head about a foot off the canvas, but the sidekick wrestler won’t let go. Redbird actually pulls down and slams the top of my head into the mat.

I go limp, falling down on top of him. My head pops free and my butt hits on his face. I shake my head out as he wraps his arms around me. Showing surprising strength, Redbird bridges us up with me on top of him. He turns and I find myself bent over, head between his legs again.

I stand up, aiming to flip him over, but his thick legs hold fast and now I'm just standing with his hanging off me, draped down my back with his beefy legs pointing forward. I can't see anything but his smooth inner thighs and he's still applying the pressure to my head. In the scissors, my brain is working slowly. Before I can adjust, he plants a hand on my ass, pushes back then drives his other hand into my back. I fall to my knees, my head falls forward and we're back to square one - me down in a standing head scissors.

I try again to lift up to flip him over me, but this time he counters with fists to my back before I even get him off the ground. I drop back to one knee from the blows as he reaches forward and grabs my arms, locking them behind my back.

I struggle to free my head and arms, but it’s no use. I’m trapped, but not for long. Redbird falls back, driving my head into the canvas again. He opens his smooth, rock hard legs and releases my arms, leaving me a quivering mess on the mat. The dominant young stud grabs my wrist, flips me over and drags me to the center of the ring. He leaves me on my back and moves off.

I roll to my side and slowly stagger to my feet. I don’t realize it, but Redbird is hovering behind me, stalking me as I rise. As soon as I’m up, he sprints in behind me. The young guy leaps at my back, reaches around my neck and pulls me down in what I can only describe as a running neckbreaker or reverse bulldog. I crash down hard, surprised as my head collides with the canvas, accelerated by Redbird’s arm around my neck. I roll on the mat, legs spread wide, arms flopping. I’m moaning and helpless as Redbird climbs on top of me.

The sidekick plants his forearm across my face and hooks one of my legs. He counts the pin. “ONE!” Pause. “TWO!” Again, I manage to lift my shoulder before three. Redbird grabs my hair and rolls up, pulling me to my feet. He whips me into the corner. As I bounce off the hard turnbuckle, I stumble forward right as he’s moving at me.

I hear him shout, “SIDEKICK SUPERKICK!” Redbird lifts his foot and drives his boot into my chin. The impact snaps my head back and I topple down in a heap. The cocky youngster hops down, putting his shin across my face and his other shin over one of my arms. He flexes and counts again.

“ONE!” I don’t move at all. “TWO!” I moan and my leg bends up then falls right back down.

“THREE!” Redbird has successfully pinned me, knocking me senseless throughout this entire round and then delivering the coup de grace with his foot. The young stud stands up and plants a boot on my chest. He smiles for the camera and poses. Redbird circles me, looking down at me lying there, nearly unconscious.

Having won the first fall, Redbird decides to take a prize. He kicks me onto my stomach then bends down. I feel him sliding his hands into the waistband of my tight pink trunks. He casually strips them off, leaving me in my pink thong, exposing my bare ass. Redbird flips me onto my back again, revealing my stacked and packed pink pouch. I feel his boot rest on my manhood as he poses again.

When he’s done, Redbird tucks my trunks into the waistband of his tented red trunks like a trophy. He struts over to the corner, waiting for me to get up for round two. I'm flat on my back, blinking rapidly, trying to clear my mind and vision after the hard kick to the jaw. Redbird gets tired of waiting. He comes back to me and grabs my wrists. He drags me across the ring to the corner, propping me up in a seated position against the bottom turnbuckle. The cocky young stud goes to the opposite corner and waits.

I try to pull myself up, but the bell rings first. I'm still stuck in a seated position when I see Redbird running at me across the ring to start round two.

The Second Fall

Time moves slowly, but so do I as Redbird charges at me. He leaps up and drives his boots into my chest. My pecs are crushed by the soles of his boots. The younger wrestler wastes no time in rising and turning me over. He forces my chest onto the bottom turnbuckle. My head hangs beside the metal that attaches the turnbuckle to the ring post. My arms hang out on the ring apron. Redbird stands on the small of my back, bouncing up and down, breaking down the muscle. I grunt in pain as his boots dig into my back and the turnbuckle forces my upper body in the air.

After a minute of that torture, Redbird hops off. He lifts my legs up, bending me into a version of the boston crab. He folds my feet over the top rope, forcing one under the turnbuckle support. With my upper body elevated and my foot trapped, I’m folded into a new, but extremely painful position. The sidekick stud stands back then drives a hard fist into my lower abs.

I’m thrashing to get free from this position, but I'm locked in place for too long as he tortures my wide open torso. I finally manage to slide my torso back, so I’m just hanging there, but I’m still trapped. Redbird backs off, measures me up and charges, jumping and sending his boots deep into my softened abs. The impact dislodges me from the ropes and I collapse down in a heap. Redbird stomps me a few times then forces me up to my feet. He slaps me hard across the face, challenging me to fight back.

I take a swing at him, but miss. He ducks my clumsy punch, spins and kicks my ass. I go flying, falling into the ropes. Behind me, Redbird flexes, stalking me as I flail on the ropes. I finally rise and spin, only to be met with a boot to the abs and a swinging neckbreaker that flattens me. I grab my neck, kicking my feet up and down on the bottom rope.

Redbird grabs my foot and spins me into the ring. He grabs my wrist, plants his boot on my back and pulls, stretching me out in a bow and arrow. I cry out in pain, grunting as he tugs on my limbs. Normally, I could probably break free, but I’m way too beaten and weak. The super sidekick moves his boot and drags me to the center of the ring.

Redbird leaves me to writhe on the mat. I shake out my head, but this little man is still super-fast. Before I can even figure out what’s happening, he climbs the ropes again and lifts his arms in victory.

Redbird looking confident 

With skill and precision, he leaps off the top rope, hitting me hard with a flying elbow. He jumps off me and goes to the opposite corner. He leaps off and delivers another!

“ONE!” The flying elbows have really hurt me, but Redbird’s cover is lazy and overly confident. “TWO!” I summon all my strength and lift my shoulder, barely. While I’ve delayed his final victory, I need to do more than lift my shoulder to prevent it.

Within seconds, the speedy Redbird is atop the corner turnbuckle again. He faces out of the ring then launches back, doing a complete flip and splashing down on my torso. Even at only 175-lbs, it still drives the air from you when a guy leaps up ten feet and lands hard. I buck up, but his weight is enough to hold me down.

“ONE!” Pause. “TWO!” I manage to kickout.

Redbird rolls off me. The high flyer grabs my hair, lifts me to a seated position. The younger stud hops up and delivers a drop kick to my chin, sending me sprawling back to the mat, almost knocking me out. Even though I’m out of it, the young stud doesn’t go for the easy pin. Instead, he runs up the ropes again, climbing them like a spider monkey. This time, he poses on his perch a little longer. When the acrobatic stud leaps off, he does an amazing aerial somersault and crashes down on me.

Redbird is obviously feeling like he’s done enough by now, as I’m unmoving under him. He arrogantly plants his left middle finger on my chest. He holds up his right arm and lifts his fingers one at a time as he counts out loud.

"ONE!" Pause. "TWO!" Pause.

"THREE!"

Redbird leaps up and puts his feet on me, one on my chest, the other on my abs. He flexes while riding me like a surfboard. When he hops off, I roll onto my side and curl up into a ball. The sidekick grabs my pink thong and yanks it off me roughly, pulling and stretching it. My legs thrash and I'm pulled part way across the ring. Redbird doesn't bother trying to carefully work my thong off, just tugging it until it flies off me.

I roll back onto my back and get a foot on my face. It's done. The sidekick has defeated the bigger wrestler, an easy two straight falls victory.

Captured by a Sidekick

Redbird shoves me onto my stomach with his boot, showing no respect for me at all. The younger wrestler bends down and symbolically binds my hands, using my pink thong as handcuffs. He wraps them tightly, reinforcing that the sidekick has defeated and captured his prey. With my wrists bound, the young stud pulls me up to my knees. He stands behind me, flexing one arm while holding my hair with the other. He poses for the cameras, giving everyone a good look at both of us. I have to admit that it will make a good shot, Redbird still in his gear flexing with me stripped naked and looking pathetic in only white boots. I'm helplessly leaning against his tree trunk of a leg, held up by a tight grip on my hair.

When my defeat has been adequately filmed, the small sidekick unties one of my wrists. He uses his impressive strength to lift me up across his chest. As he carries me across the ring, I can't help but wonder where we're going. Redbird drapes me across the top turnbuckle sideways, propping me up. My legs and hands hang down on either side of the ropes coming from the corner. Redbird folds my feet together and draws them under me, bending my left foot to meet my right wrist. He uses my trunks to tie my ankle and wrist together, stretching the pink spandex until it's tight. He repeats this, using my pink thong to bind my left wrist to my right ankle. I'm effectively hogtied over the turnbuckle.

I'm hanging over the turnbuckle, desperately trying not to fall as Redbird steadies me. My head hangs down, looking at the ring entrance. My back is aching as my naked, muscular body is bent back like an over-the-knee backbreaker, my wrists and ankles expertly secured. It's a humiliating and painful position.

Redbird reaches down and grabs a bright red permanent marker from the corner (Ryan must have put it there). He uses it to write across my lower abs, just above my trimmed pubic hair, “Captured by your friendly neighborhood Redbird! PS. He’s not armed and not very dangerous!”

For good measure, Redbird fires a few parting fists into my open, displayed torso. My young tormentor climbs the rope to get a better angle, pounding each of my six-pack abs. When he's done, Redbird hops out of the ring, leaving me "for the police to find". From my uncomfortable and precarious perch, I watch him strut to the exit, arms raised in victory. Even upside down, with the blood rushing to my head, I admire the view. He's a hot little stud with an ass I'll dream about tonight. Damn, I wish this had gone the other way.

When Redbird exits through the black curtain, the cameras pan over my beaten and defaced body. Ryan makes sure to get a parting shot of the message scrawled above my package. With the cameras off, I start to work on freeing my wrists and ankles. Of course Ryan and Pete don't move to help me, just standing beside me, making sure I don't fall. And I'm sure that's only for insurance reasons. I finally free my limbs and roll into the ring.

I try to stretch out my back and limbs. I breathe deeply. Pete says, "Nice work today, jobber boy. You were never that convincing as a hero, but you're great as a useless piece-of-crap jobber." He laughs at me as he grabs Ryan's camera and goes to the office to download the files.

I slip out of the ring, holding my back. I ask Ryan, "So what did you think?"

Ryan pauses. He finally says, "You did fine, Cody."

"Thanks." I take what I can get. I start to continue the conversation, "You found really good opponents, with Bulk and Redbird. Great contrast. Amazing job recruiting." A nod, but no verbal reply. “Where did you find them?” Again, no reply, but not a death stare, either. “And going up to two handheld cameras is a great idea. What made you think of that?"

"It was obvious. I just never had someone reliable in my life before Pete."

Ouch. I ask, "How was your weekend?"

Nope, too far. Ryan has shut down. He breathes deeply and says, "I need to start recruiting your next opponents. Gotta keep this fresh. Be ready. I'll text you the details." With that he walks out.

Okay, well, it's progress, right? He complimented me and sort of accepted my compliment. Plus, he's been thinking about me all week and will keep thinking about me. That might help, even if it is just to find a guy or two who want to crush me.

Either way, I'm energized, despite my aches and pains. I see light at the end of the tunnel and, as much as I hate being a jobber, I'm a damn good one. Things could be worse.

The End