The Cave 10: Riddle's Return

BZZT! BZZT! As I’m pulling on my white bathrobe after a nice long shower, my phone rings. I’ve been waiting for a call back from a prospective wrestler, so even though I don’t recognize the number, I grab my phone, throw in my earpiece and answer the call, saying “Yo, it's Ryan.”

"Hey, you fucking piece of shit. It's Josh. Why the fuck did I get a check from The Cave signed by your little bitch Cody? What bullshit are you two assholes pulling now?" There’s a pause as I stand there in my bathroom, cursing myself for answering. Josh says angrily, “Hello? What the hell? I hear you fucking breathing.”

Composing myself, I answer, "Oh ... hey, Josh. Yeah, I'm here, just … adjusting the phone. Hey. Long time no talk. A check? Uh, that? That must be a bonus based on the sales for your match. The Cave sales have, uh, blown up, so we've been sending out bonus checks to the talent. You know, to make up for how little we used to pay. Kind of a thanks for being there in the early days. I guess Cody must’ve made yours out."

Long pause. "Really? You clowns can pay this much? Shit must've really exploded."

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, we're doing okay. Well, I should go. Uh, talk to you later."

Josh ignores me, "Fuck, I guess you're not so bush league any more. I figured you were trying to buy me off, since last time I saw you, you attacked me, fucked me and stole my money."

I tell myself to ignore it, but instead I reply, "Hey, you attacked me first. And you didn't live up to your end of our agreement."

"Why you motherfucking ..."

I cut him off, "Look, I'm not getting into this. Dude, I really am sorry about how out of control things got last time. I was in a bad place then, but, you know, that’s not an excuse. I totally, sincerely apologize. As for the check, look, you can deposit it or not. Your call. You've got six months to decide before it gets stale-dated."

To my surprise, Josh immediately calms down. “Yeah, you know, I could’ve handled things better, too. I sure as hell could have beat that loser, Cody. Fuck, I’m still pissed about that.” Another pause before he asks, "So you guys are really paying this much these days?"

"Why?" I ask cautiously.

Josh says, "Maybe it's time for Mr. Riddle's return. I’ve seen guys asking about him."

I'm floored. Thanks to his ridiculously ripped body and strong ring skills, a lot of fans have asked for him to come back. Josh is right about that, but I never thought it would happen. Mr. Riddle was Josh's alter ego when he wrestled his only match for The Cave, a gay-oriented wrestling site with a superhero theme that I co-own. I set the match up as part of my revenge against my business partner and friend Cody, aka The Bat, who at the time was the undefeated star of the site.

I specifically recruited Josh and paid him a lot of money to destroy Cody, arranging to have him beaten, fucked and exposed live online. It didn't work. When Josh lost, I didn't take it well and went overboard by assaulting him in the locker room, an act I'm ashamed of. I was just so angry back then. Again, not an excuse, just an explanation.

Of course, I never planned to see Josh again, much less send him a bonus, but, as part of mending our relationship, Cody has been handling more responsibility around The Cave, including accounting. Josh certainly deserves the money, as the match was so hot and so talked about that it helped catapult us to our current success.

Anyway, I'm always telling Cody that choosing talent shouldn't be personal, so I find myself agreeing to let him come back. Now the only question is, who should Mr. Riddle face? He has a very specific request from our roster, but I'm not sure it'll fly.

Recruiting Mr. Riddle's Opponent

The next weekend, Cody and I take a much deserved break, spending a few days alone together as we bond again. We're at a friend's cabin in the mountains to celebrate our 28th birthdays. We were born a month apart. At the time, I was avoiding Cody since I was so angry at him and was so close to launching my plot against him. I was afraid I'd either lose it and attack him or spoil my plans. Now, we're getting back to normal. It'll feel good, just hanging together as friends after so long of me holding a grudge.

After we’ve unpacked and started relaxing, I tell him about Josh’s impending return.

"What? You’re bringing back that fucker?" Cody is incredulous when he finds out, but sees it from the business side. "Fine, bring his ass back. I guess it makes sense."

Well, that was easy. I get lucky when Cody opens the door to our next hard conversation for me. He asks, "Shit, who's stupid enough to face him? Most of our guys are too small. It really should be someone big, over 200-lbs. I’d say let’s try Thunder, but I like Steve too much to put him through that. Skull doesn’t have the experience to make it a match. Oh, what about Sexy Beast?"

I say nothing. When Cody looks up from his tablet, I smile and bat my eyes. He quickly guesses my intention.

Cody immediately says, "Oh hell no! Once was enough! That asshole knocked me out of action for, like, two months. You fight him this time!"

I respond, "C'mon Cody, you know guys want a re-match. You’ve been looking to get into your Bat gear again, here's your chance. And, you know, since he's so hot, losing to him wouldn't be that bad, would it? Tell me you wouldn't enjoy being fucked by him. It’s not like you haven’t done worse."

Cody gets pissed. He says, "What? That piece of crap couldn't beat me after sandbagging me in a setup. What makes you think he could beat me in a fair fight?"

I say in a patronizing tone, “If you’re worried about The Bat returning to a loss, you could use your Pink Punk gear.”

Cody shakes his head, “I’m not worried. That’s not the point. I wrestled him. I won. I’m done.”

"Sure. Although, I seem to remember, you were going to quit after the first fall until you found out it was being live streamed. And it sure looked like there were a couple of times where he could've beaten you, but didn't go for the win. A lot of fans seem to think the ending was too fake. Oh well, I guess we'll never know."

Cody says, "Fuck that. I know I won. I could beat that ... oh. I get it. Nice try, Dr. Freud."

It's okay. I didn’t expect to get a yes right away, which is why this isolated cabin is perfect. It takes two more days of lobbying, but on the drive home, Cody finally relents. Josh jumps at the chance to avenge his loss, so the match is set for the Saturday after next. Like the first time, it’ll be a live cam show. Fans are ecstatic, blogs are blowing up and subscription sales spike. Hopefully it lives up to the hype, but either way, Mr. Riddle will, once again, be fighting The Bat.

Fifty's a Crowd

The air in the ring area is electric. Yes, electric. In addition to recording and live streaming, for the first time ever, we actually have a live audience. We film The Cave in a small local pro wrestling fed's ring, which can accommodate as many as 150 people, but we've never used the seats. Now, I'm holding an extra $1,550 and there's a whopping 47 masked guys sitting, standing and circling ringside.

It all started when more than a few of the other Cave wrestlers asked to attend in person. We said, sure. So we’ve got 14 of them hanging out in their gear, just wandering around looking sexy in their boots and tight trunks, briefs and thongs. Fortunately, Pete’s snapping some pics and video of the crowd, as they wait for the big event.

Then, we got pleading e-mails from Bart and Jon, a couple of the gay wrestling bloggers who've really promoted us. They begged to come and, after all they’ve done for us, we just couldn't say no. So they're here, positioned upfront at the announcers' table. A little prodding has them both shirtless, but they are in masks from our collection. We chose ones that match Jon’s green jeans and Bart’s jacket. Even though Jon has posted images of himself on his blog, we decided everyone watching needed to wear masks, too, given the explicit nature of the action. This is a best two-out-of-three, loser gets fucked match, so not for the faint of heart.

Now, those guys are all here for free, but then persistent local area fans begged to come. They offered to pay just to see this re-match go down live. I said no, but Cody and Josh felt that the more, the merrier at this point. So they're here, too, all 31 of them, masked (I had to tap into my personal collection) in street clothes and I’ve got their money.

The attending wrestlers have agreed to make sure nothing gets out of hand. Between them, cameraman Pete (a 300-lbs bruiser) and me, we should be okay. At least I hope so! For my part, I can’t wait to see the crowd shots and their reaction. The mix of nearly naked wrestling studs and masked regular Joes looks really hot.

We get some comments about who they think will win (the hero) and who they hope will win (the villain). We've opened the live streaming and the comments are already coming in faster than my helper and fellow cameraman, Pete, can handle them. I put Bart and Jon to work, so in addition to having the best seats in the house, they’re engaging the online community, adding their unique and colorful insights.

Phew. Everything is set, so I grab the mic and start the introductions. Everyone is going wild and I notice that a lot of the pants and trunks are obviously tented. Both Josh and Cody agreed to letting guys watch live, but I'm not sure they knew it would be quite this crazy.

The Intros

I introduce Josh first. Guys are clapping and hooting in anticipation. When Mr. Riddle actually comes out, the fans go nuts. Even I'm a little surprised, having only seen Josh arrive in clothes. I announce Mr. Riddle as 6'2" and 220-lbs, but I think he weighs a lot more, at least 230-lbs. The villain looks bigger and more muscular than last time, but still with an incredibly ripped body. I think he almost looks like two different guys put together, a big man's top and bottom, but a smaller man’s midsection. His one-of-a-kind physique shows huge shoulders, arms and chest lead to an impossibly trim waist before expanding into a round, perfect ass and thick, muscular legs.

The mega-heel is wearing a new green mask with black trim and a question mark on the forehead. The black laces hang over his right shoulder. The green trunks are small and impossibly low slung, with provocative black question marks front and center and also on the back. They reveal everything except his package, although the outline is obvious for those of us looking at it in person. And everyone in the arena is looking. I can tell Pete is zooming in, getting the perfect shots, the ones that sell videos.

The fans refuse to settle down, as the heel slowly circles in front of them. He plays his role perfectly, looking at them with contempt, but also letting them touch his arms and shoulders as he passes. He walks up to the announcers’ table, reaches out with both hands and grabs Bart and Jon by the throat. He doesn't tighten, but he does force the shocked bloggers to their feet, looking them each in the eye.

Mr. Riddle says, “Tell those online pussies that their favorite hero is going down!” When neither Bart or Jon move (except for the growing tent in their pants), the mighty heel yells, “TYPE!” Jon points to the grip on his throat. When the villain releases his grip, the two bloggers immediately and obediently start typing.

When Mr. Riddle finally climbs into the ring to wait for his opponent, I finally get to introduce the hero. I'm surprisingly excited. Cody is making his return to the ring, back for the first time in over a month, since the last time his jobber identity, the Pink Punk, was squashed. The Bat has been gone even longer, since he faced and lost to Bane, my one foray in front of The Cave cameras. It was only The Bat's second loss, but the first one posted and shared.

When I make the announcement, Cody comes out in his black Bat gear. The Bat enters to even wilder cheers from the faithful. He's the reason most of them took notice of our small startup and The Bat's absence has been disappointing. The hero poses dramatically, soaking it all in, wearing his stylized mask, long cape, pro boots and bulging trunks with a red bat symbol on it. I have to admit, The Bat looks majestic. A lot smaller and less ripped than Mr. Riddle, but so very hot. Cody is down about ten pounds in the past month, back to his normal fighting weight of 205-lbs. Cody admitted it was too hard to stay bigger, but I think he may wish he was still 215-lbs (or bigger) when he sees Mr. Riddle.

Like Mr. Riddle, The Bat passes by the crowd and plays his part well. The hero smiles at the fans, shakes hands and looks genuinely thrilled by their passion and energy. He gets rubbed and touched, but doesn't mind at all. The fans are loving it, even though most want to see him to get his ass kicked and fucked. One of the ironies about the gay wrestling community is that our hottest face wrestlers are often at their most popular when they lose. The Bat bucked the trend for a long while, but once fans got a taste of his defeat, they started clamoring for more. It's not because they don't like him, but because they love him.

The Bat climbs up to the ring apron, his back to the fans. He dramatically drops his cape, letting it float to the floor below. With his magnificent ass exposed, the assembled throng is driven into a frenzy. The hero doesn’t turn to acknowledge the cheers, though. After being sandbagged last time they met, he carefully watches Mr. Riddle instead. The villain doesn’t bother trying to attack him as he enters this time, knowing The Bat is ready.

As they stare each other down across the ring, the two musclemen start to flex for the crowd, showing off two amazing physiques. The Cave was built off the hotness of Cody's body, but the result of the posing is clear. In spite of The Bat’s massive popularity, the fans are clearly more impressed by Mr. Riddle and I can’t say I blame them. Score one for the villain, although it’s really a bigger score for the lucky folks in the ring area and watching online.

With the preliminaries over, I ring the bell and we’re ready for action.

Round One

It doesn’t take long before the two studs are locked up in a classic collar-and-elbow. Their muscles flex and pump as the two hunks strain against one another. The Bat does a good job of shifting his weight, but it quickly becomes clear who’s stronger. The new, bigger Mr. Riddle overpowers the smaller hero back towards the corner. I’m surprised The Bat thought he had a chance, given the size difference

When they’re almost at the corner, The Bat suddenly moves as though sitting down. He pulls the villain’s thick arms and shoulders down with him. The surprised heel’s momentum can’t be stopped and his arms are held down by the hero, making it impossible to brace himself. CLANG! He crashes face first into the top turnbuckle. The Bat slides between the stunned villain’s legs and stands up behind him. Now I see why Cody engaged in the test of strength and I’m impressed with the strategy.

Mr. Riddle stands up, shaking out his head. He looks pissed, probably more embarrassed than hurt. When he turns to face The Bat, a boot to his abs drives him back into the corner. STOMP! The hero stomps again then charges in with a hard knee. WHOMP! The hero moves back and drives forward again. Mr. Riddle grunts as all the hero’s weight crashes forward.

Mr. Riddle lifts his hands and pushes The Bat back, sending him back four steps. With some breathing room, the villain regroups. He moves out of the corner and the two men circle.

A voice breaks out of the crowd, “Fuck him up, Riddle! He’s nothing!” That opens the floodgate. Everyone starts everyone yelling, a few for the hero, most for Mr. Riddle.

Loud and clear, someone in the crowd yells, “C’mon Bat! Kick his ass!” This starts a flurry of comments that doesn’t abate for the entire match.

When the villain turns to tell the Bat-fan to shut up, the hero makes his next move. The Bat brings his shoulder down and charges. He slams into the distracted heel’s ripped midsection. The hero drives them across the ring, into the opposite corner. CLANG! The ring shakes from the impact, as The Bat grabs the middle ropes on either side of the villain’s hips.

WHOMP! WHOMP! WHOMP! The Bat slams in with shoulder block after shoulder block, holding nothing back. The muscle hero rises, turns and rams his back and ass into Mr. Riddle’s chest and abs. He then grabs the villain behind the head and flips him forward, in a classic snapmare takedown. As Mr. Riddle rolls up to a seated position, The Bat backs up to the corner. The hero charges forward, leaping over the villain, grabbing his head on the way past.

The muscular heel snaps forward then back until he's lying on his back, holding his head and neck. The Bat is quickly up and on top of him again, driving his boots into the heel’s abs. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The hero leaps up, coming down with his knee into the heel’s midsection, putting his 205-lbs of muscle behind it. Mr. Riddle grunts again as the hero rolls up to his feet. I notice a small hitch in The Bat’s step and I wonder if the villain’s 8-pack might be stronger than the hero’s knee.

As The Bat circles, the villain rolls onto his hands and knees then up to his feet. When he turns, the green-clad muscleman is met with a low dropkick. WHAM! The hero’s black soles connect with chest and abs, sending the heel back into the corner. The ripped stomach is red, but it looks just as solid as ever.

When The Bat rises, Mr. Riddle storms out of the corner. He charges at the hero, only to have The Bat duck and turn, sending the bigger muscle god over top with a hip toss. The villain lands hard on his tailbone. The hero drives two boots between his shoulder blades then reaches under the villain’s thick arms. The smaller hunk forces Mr. Riddle up to his feet then drives forward, using the villain’s spectacular body as a battering ram. The heel slams front first into the turnbuckle with 205-lbs of beefcake coming in behind to add to the impact.

As The Bat leans against Riddle’s muscular back, the villain suddenly swings his right elbow back. It connects hard against the hero’s temple, sending him flying back to the middle of the ring where he falls on his magnificent ass. The dazed muscle hero shakes out his cowled head as Mr. Riddle turns in the corner. The villain has a smile on his face as The Bat rolls into a crouch.

Mr. Riddle yells as he closes in, “You’re going after these abs? THESE ABS? You gotta be kidding, you stupid Bat-Bitch!”

From behind my camera, I have to agree and question the strategy. I know that Cody won a fall with an abdominal stretch last time, but this is not your father’s Mr. Riddle. In the months between matches, Mr. Riddle has changed. He was ripped before, but now his body is insane. I wonder if he hasn’t been doing non-stop crunches since he tore out of here that fateful afternoon.

Undeterred and unwilling to admit that the past 10 minutes of relentless ab assault may have been for nothing, The Bat waits until his opponent is close enough then drives a series of fast hard fists into the heel’s 8-pack. The punches don’t even move the bigger stud, who just laughs in response. WHAM! The unfazed Mr. Riddle brings his forearm down across the right side of the kneeling hero’s head and neck. The Bat collapses face first onto the canvas. He’s slow to rise onto his elbows, his eyes opening and closing rapidly.

The villain casually circles, casually wiping his hands down his undamaged midsection. When The Bat gets to hands and knees, the villain drives his boot up into his stomach. The hero flops over, propelled by the devastating kick. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Mr. Riddle brings the sole of his bright green boots down into The Bat’s rippled midsection. Cody’s got a good muscle body, but his abs start to jiggle by the fifth boot.

The ripped villain grabs a handful of cowl. He forces the hero up to his feet, pulling the black-clad superstud into a standing front facelock. The villain grabs the side of The Bat’s black trunks and lifts. The hero’s black boots fly into the air. It looks like a suplex until the villain turns. He brings The Bat down forward. The hero’s stomach hits on the top rope, which cuts into the muscles with force. The villain lets go and leaves The Bat hanging on the rope, coughing and moaning in pain.

Mr. Riddle strikes an amazing double bicep pose before moving in for a follow-up. He grabs his opponent’s black trunks and pulls, flipping the hero over onto the mat while wedging the tight spandex up the hero’s ass at the same time. The villain grabs The Bat’s wrist, forcing him to his feet. The hero has trouble standing up straight as he’s pushed into the ropes and flung across the ring. Instead of ricocheting off, The Bat grabs hold of the top rope and stops his momentum.

The villain moves in, but the hero lashes back with a kick that hits the charging big man’s thigh, stopping him dead in his tracks. The Bat drops down and sweeps his leg out, toppling Mr. Riddle to the canvas. The hero grabs hold of Mr. Riddle’s boot. Wasting no time, the hero drags the bigger muscleman to the center of the ring.

The Bat lifts both green boots into the air. Mr. Riddle starts kicking, but before he can get anything behind it, the hero steps between the legs and begins to wrap them up. The hero falls back, bringing his right leg over the villain’s ankle and locking on a figure-four leglock. Mr. Riddle starts screaming immediately. AARRRGGGHHHH!

The pain is intense and the heel's thrashing on the mat proves it. Fans move right to the ring apron to watch the big man suffer. The oversized bulge within his tiny trunks stands high and proud as he lies there, crying out. The villain tries to roll over, but the hero blocks every attempt. The hold goes on for some time, with both men struggling to counter the other’s strategy. Still, Mr. Riddle somehow refuses to submit.

Even though he’s been in the hold for a long time, Mr. Riddle stills outweighs The Bat and has a strength advantage. After a feint to the left, he finally manages to roll them over to the right. The men roll onto their stomachs, their mountainous asses rising majestically off the canvas. The hero has to quickly release the hold, as now it’s his legs feeling the pressure. They both crawl to the ropes on opposite sides on the ring.

Mr. Riddle is limping as he holds the ropes. The Bat charges in, ducking a slow fist from the villain. He brings his arm up behind the heel’s knee. When he lifts, Mr. Riddle topples to the mat. The hero grabs the green leather boot at the ankle, using it to flip the bigger muscle stud over onto his chest. With great effort, The Bat drags the villain to the center of the ring then cranks on an ankle lock. Mr. Riddle slaps the mat in pain and frustration.

Both men are covered in sweat, bodies red and faces strained. The Bat wasted a lot of energy and time going after the bigger muscle heel’s indestructible abs, but this second leg hold seems to be breaking through and working. Mr. Riddle pushes up, lifting his chest into the air, but that does nothing to get him free. He collapses back down, still locked in the submission hold.

Fans are split around the ring, some in front of the villain’s face, cheering for him to hold out, while others are behind the action, admiring The Bat’s straining back, wedged trunks and bare ass cheeks. All of them are straining to scream their encouragement and support of the action.

The Bat is tiring as no submission is coming. His sweaty hands struggle to hold the slick, wet leather boot. When the villain senses an opening, he presses up again, swiftly twisting. The hero is toppled to the side, losing his grip as he collides against the middle and bottom rope. Mr. Riddle struggles to rise, keeping the weight off his injured leg.

The hero waits until Mr. Riddle pulls himself up to his feet. When the powerful villain is in position, The Bat bounces off the ropes, flying up with a cross body block. Mr. Riddle tries to catch him, but with his wobbly legs, he can’t hold up. They crash down with the hero landing across the villain’s chest. The Bat starts a count. SLAP! ONE! He struggles to keep the villain’s shoulders down flat. SLAP! TWO! A two-count is good, but not good enough. UNH! Mr. Riddle bucks up, shooting The Bat off with authority.

The hero hops to his feet while the villain just lies on his back, trying to recuperate. With the leg torture paying dividends, The Bat moves in again, not wanting to lose his advantage. As he circles to grab Mr. Riddle’s boot again, he moves too close. The villain reaches out with his huge wingspan, grabbing the black leather boot and pulling. WHAM! The hero topples down, front first. He braces himself, barely, but the villain gets a spurt of adrenaline, rolling on top of the hero, pinning him with a forearm behind his head and 230-lbs of muscle straddling his hips.

The Bat, with handsome face squished against the canvas, struggles under the villain’s weight, trying to throw him off, but the bigger muscle stud keeps him down. The villain bucks up and swings his forearm down on the back of The Bat’s head. The hero goes limp for a moment, long enough for Mr. Riddle to rear up and slam down again. The smaller muscleman lets out a cry of pain and grabs the back of his head.

Mr. Riddle grabs The Bat’s wrists and sits up, positioning himself ass-to-ass and pulling on the hero’s wrists. The villain lifts the hero’s chest off the mat, bending his back as he forces Cody up. The pain would be similar to a camel clutch, but the hold is less secure. The Bat struggles, coming close to freeing his hands from the sweaty grip. Sensing the inevitable, the mighty heel moves to pre-empt his escape.

WHAM! Mr. Riddle drives forward, pushing The Bat crashing down into the canvas face first. By holding the hero’s arms back, he can’t brace as the weight of the villain’s huge torso lands on top of him.  I see The Bat go completely limp as he lies in the ring. A confident Mr. Riddle rolls off the dazed hero and gets to his feet. The bigger muscle hunk walks around, kicking out his legs, trying to work off the leg punishment. While he does this, the hero can only moan and hold his head.

Having worked out some of the leg damage, the villain reaches down into the wedged trunks of the hero. He also grabs the back of the cowl. With sudden force, the powerful muscle man lifts up, stretching the spandex and straining the seams. Just as quickly as he brings The Bat up, Mr. Riddle drops the hero stomach first for a gutbuster. OOF! The hero’s stomach crashes down onto the unforgiving thigh of the heel's good leg. The green-clad muscleman pushes The Bat off his leg with force, sending the ailing wrestler rolling towards the ropes.

Momentum has definitely shifted. I see The Bat struggling to regain focus, but the head attacks are still taking their toll. He uses the ropes to get to hands and knees, his other arm clutching his abs. Mr. Riddle moves in confidently. The kneeling muscle stud fires out a defensive fist, but it just bounces off the villain, who responds with a boot to Cody's softened abs. WHOMP!

The confident heel taunts, "This is how you punish abs, Bat-Bitch!"

With impressive speed, he grabs The Bat's cowl and wrist, forcing the black-clad beefcake to his feet and against the ropes. Mr. Riddle starts laying into the hero's torso with a vicious series of fast, powerful punches. The Bat's smooth midsection is treated like a heavy bag at the gym. Before he can fall, Mr. Riddle grabs him around the throat, holding him up against the ropes as he drives in with knee lifts from his good leg.

The devastation to the hero's abs is evident as he's whipped across the ring into the opposite ropes. He bounces off only to be met with a running shoulder block to the stomach. The villain's 230-lbs of indestructible muscle slams into him fast and hard. The men fly back, the hero landing hard on his tailbone as only the middle rope stops the two musclemen from going splat on the floor below.

The villain rises, leaving his coughing victim to collapse in a heap. He strikes a series of poses, emphasizing his power and physique. To the cheers of the assembled crowd, the heel moves in front of the hero. The villain forces The Bat’s cowl between his mighty legs, locking the hero's head in tightly. The heel bends over and grabs him around the waist. With impressive power, the bigger stud muscles the hero up into an upside down reverse bearhug!

Mr. Riddle shows no signs of a limp as he moves to the middle of the ring, holding The Bat aloft and upside down. He bounces the hero, adding to the incredible pressure of the hold. The villain’s ridiculously muscular arms flex and sink deeper into The Bat’s waist as he’s crushed in the python-like grip. The blood rushes to his head as he shaken like a ragdoll, arms dangling and flailing, legs hanging over the heel’s broad shoulders.

I hear The Bat muttering between pained cries, “Oh god! UNH!”

“YEAH! Hurts, doesn’t it? You’re not getting out of this one, Bat-Bitch!” I, for one, believe him. Mr. Riddle doesn’t seem to be tiring at all. His enlarged muscles only expand and his body looks more powerful as he continues to punish his opponent. Sweat glistens from both men, but The Bat can’t seem to slip free.

Finally, The Bat screams out, “I give, I GIVE! I GIVE!”

Mr. Riddle tosses the hero down. The Bat lands with force, crumpled in a ball. Meanwhile, Mr. Riddle looks spectacular in victory. The heel poses over the hero, showing off his muscles, which have reached epic proportions.

It was hard fought, but the heel is up a fall first. The damage to The Bat is apparent, while Mr. Riddle looks big, strong and fresh. Still, the heel won the first fall the last time they fought and it didn't stop the hero from storming back to take the next two. There’s still a lot of time to go, but looking at them now, it doesn’t look good for The Bat.

Round Two

For the entire five-minute break, Mr. Riddle is talking, alternating between mocking the crowd and taunting The Bat. The powerful heel obviously feels confident that he’s going to win. At one point, the big muscleman tells the hero that if he gets on his knees and licks his boots, they can move on to the fucking. Of course, the hero refuses.

One of the fans yells, “Bane already did that!” Mr. Riddle glares, a little embarrassed at his own apparent unoriginality, but I smile. Yes, I did do something similar (but far more humiliating and much sexier) to The Bat in a timed match, so it would be redundant. I love these fans and love that they're so into it.

The break is over. The Bat is stretched and recovered, at least as much as possible. Mr. Riddle is pumped and perfect, showing no ill effects of the ab or leg work from the prior round. The two men circle cautiously. Having been duped once in a lockup, Mr. Riddle tries to get the hero into a test of strength. The taller, heavier muscleman raises his arms and dares the hero, challenging his manhood.

To my shock, The Bat accepts, lifting his arms in acceptance. The two men open and close their raised hands rapidly then move in close. I notice that The Bat's hands are actually slightly bigger as he slides his fingers between the heel's. The villain clamps down as soon as the hero's hands are in place, ensuring he goes nowhere. The two are locked, the veins in their bodies already popping, their muscles already straining.

As soon as Mr. Riddle pushes down, The Bat falls down to his back, lifting the soles of his boots into the heel's tiny ripped midsection. Using his tight grip on the villain's hands, the hero pulls his opponent forward and flips him over. The bigger man's boots fly over his head then he crashes down on his back. The impact hurts, but more importantly, being suddenly flipped is disorienting, giving the hero a momentary advantage.

The Bat uses the momentum to roll right on top of the heel's broad shoulders.  The hero doesn't let go of the tight clutch on Mr. Riddle's hands, using the grip to smack the villain's face with the back of his own hands. The humiliating move is effective, as The Bat holds nothing back, making each punch count. With Mr. Riddle clearly dazed and limp, the hero sweeps his arms to the side, moving the heel's thick appendages out of the way.

With impressive speed, the hero releases his grip, grabs the green mask that lies between his legs and pulls up, planting Mr. Riddle's face in his black spandex-covered crotch. The Bat shifts his legs, sliding them under the head and neck of the villain. He rolls to the side and suddenly, he's got a tight figure four head scissors locked on. The hero squeezes hard and the villain thrashes as the pain rises exponentially. Mr. Riddle has built an amazing muscle body, but muscle doesn't help when it's your head under assault.

The villain moans as his head is crushed. He holds out against the pain, but the cries tell you he's suffering. The big man punches at The Bat's thighs, but they're tough and unmovable. The hero increases the pressure by lifting his body up and stretching. In desperation, the villain wildly reaches up, clawing and hitting, looking for some escape. The Bat drops back to the mat, defending his body.

This torture goes on for some time, the hero skillfully countering every move. However, just as with the leg lock, the unbelievable strength and determination of the villain amazes me. He manages to roll onto his hands and knees, positioning The Bat on his back. The villain reaches up and blindly punches with both hands. When the hero moves to block, Mr. Riddle seizes hold of his wrists.

The Bat tries to pull his arms free, but that's not the end game. The villain actually pushes upward from his knees. He get his feet under him and stands up, pulling the hero with him. Mr. Riddle shows off how ridiculously strong his neck is, as it supports most of 205-lbs of black-clad muscle. Using his grip on the hero's wrists, the powerful heel pulls The Bat's shoulders up. With the hero's back parallel to the mat, the villain drives down, slamming the hero into the canvas.

WHAM! The hero immediately loses the headlock. Finally free, the villain falls back onto his ass, sitting in the ring, with a hand over his masked face. The sustained head scissors took its toll on him and even that impressive display of resilience and adrenaline doesn't change that. The Bat is first to recover. From his position on the mat, the hero kicks out, slamming his boot into the back of Mr. Riddle's hand, which then drives into his face.

The villain topples back, dazed, rolling to his side and shaking his head out. The Bat gets to his feet, arches his back and moves in close. He drags Mr. Riddle to his feet, pushing him into the ropes. The hero slams a forearm into the green masked head of his opponent then whips him across the ring. The stunned villain stumbles into the opposite ropes. He bounces off to see a charging hero leaping up for another cross body.

This worked after the leg punishment, but this time, the heel's mighty muscles respond instinctively. The big brute catches the smaller hunk, holding him up. Mr. Riddle is still shaking out his head, but he holds The Bat aloft easily. 205-lbs of beef is nothing to him. After circling the ring, getting his bearings. The villain shows off a cruel smile. The Bat has been struggling and kicking, but his efforts accomplish nothing. He's like a child in a man's arms.

With a quick turn, Mr. Riddle suddenly bodyslams The Bat to the mat. BOOM! When the hero lifts his hips up, the heel stomps down on them hard. STOMP! STOMP! The villain grabs Cody by the mask, forcing him up. He grabs under the black trunks, hoisting his prey across his heaving chest. This time, he doesn't even hold him for a moment, immediately slamming the hero down again. BOOM! The Bat moans as the impact devastates his body. Inspired by his success, the villain grabs the aching muscle stud and powers him up for a third slam.

As The Bat goes down, he reaches around the back of the villain’s neck. Simultaneously, he grabs Mr. Riddle’s thick bicep between his legs. Instead of a slam, Mr. Riddle is pulled down to the mat on his head then rolled over onto his shoulders. The Bat manages to lock the villain’s legs and suddenly, the bigger stud is locked in a small package.

The Bat holds the struggling muscle heel in the pinning hold, carefully counting, ONE! Fans match his count, with those in front slapping the canvas. TWO! THREE! Mr. Riddle kicks out, but it’s too late and the second fall is decided. With The Bat scoring the quick pinfall, we’re tied up (from a score perspective).

“BULLSHIT! FAST FUCKING COUNT!” Mr. Riddle screams. He goes on an expletive filled tirade, but there’s no doubt. It was a fall.

The villain storms to the ropes, looking at me as I hold the camera. He pleads his case, unsuccessfully, while the fans scream at him to shut up. Even his supporters tell him it was a good count. Mr. Riddle slams his hands down on the top rope, still swearing up a storm. Behind him, The Bat has been waiting. He's crouched and I wonder what he's up to.

Mr. Riddle follows my stare, realizing I'm not looking at (or filming) him directly. When he turns, The Bat has him measured up then quickly lifts his boot. CRACK! The hero delivers a superkick right to the villain's jaw! The impact flattens Mr. Riddle. The musclehunk hero hops on the villain, hooks a leg tightly and immediately starts slapping the mat slowly.

ONE! TWO! THREE! The hero gets the pinfall then counts two more, just to prove he did it. SLAP! SLAP! The Bat releases the stunned heel’s leg and rolls off him. The crowd wonders if that was a second fall for The Bat, but it wasn't. The third round hadn't started. In my opinion, it was The Bat letting his emotions get the best of him and wasting a good move that Mr. Riddle will probably not fall for again.

An energized Bat leans over a surprised Riddle. He points a finger into the villain’s face and says, “Go ahead. Tell me that wasn’t a real pin. Bitch.” The bigger muscleman swats The Bat’s hand away, but doesn’t answer. This time, the five-minute break goes off quietly, as Mr. Riddle tests his jaw and The Bat stretches.

Round Three

The third round starts quietly, as both wrestlers focus on the task at hand. They’re wary, as neither man wants to end up on the losing end of this battle. They move out into the ring and circle. The Bat strikes a pose, flexing his arms in a double bicep pose. The crowd hoots and hollers as the sexy hero shows off his gym-built body. Across from him, the villain smirks. In response, he strikes his own pose.

Mr. Riddle’s muscles dwarf The Bat’s, but once again, the hero has a plan.  When the villain turns his head to admire his own bicep, the hero leaps forward. He launches into a handstand right in front of the flexing muscleman. The shocked heel brings his arms down, but it’s too late. The Bat wraps his knees and calves around the villain’s neck. He locks his feet and pulls down and forward.

The villain is flipped over fast, toppling to the canvas, hitting on his head and back. The Bat lands with his 205-lbs on the heel’s chest, his momentum carrying him all the way over until he's kneeling between the villain's legs. The hero reaches under the dazed heel’s knees and pushes forward, going for a quick pin. The villain is folded in two, The Bat’s arms pushing the heel’s knees towards his face. The hero pins his opponent’s shoulders flat and thrusts with his red bat bulge, pressing against the question mark on the back of the heel’s green spandex trunks.

ONE! TWO! Mr. Riddle rolls to the side, getting his right shoulder off the mat just in time. If Cody still had his extra 10-lbs, he might have won, but he doesn’t, so he didn’t. The match keeps going.

Both men scramble up, with the hero moving behind the villain. When Mr. Riddle turns, The Bat kicks up for another superkick. This time, the heel is ready, ducking the kick and charging forward with a massive clothesline. There's so much force that it causes the unbalanced hero to do a full aerial 360 before he crashes to the mat.

It takes a moment, but The Bat rises. Mr. Riddle is ready. He drives a boot up into the hero’s abs. OOF! As he bends forward, the villain slams a fist into the side of his head. The hero staggers a moment, only to be dropped as the heel jumps in the air and brings the back of his leg down across the back of the hero's neck. The Bat falls face first to the mat, momentarily stunned.

A series of stomps takes its toll, leaving The Bat in a crumpled heap. Mr. Riddle grabs the black mask and trunks and forces the hero to his feet. He throws the smaller wrestler into the corner, torso first. The Bat sags on the top rope as Mr. Riddle pounds fists up and down his back. The villain backs up and runs, slamming right into the hero’s back, crushing him in the corner. As The Bat starts to fall, the villain grabs his cowl and trunks again.

With a swift spin, Mr. Riddle throws The Bat out of the ring. The hero tumbles down to the concrete floor, landing hard at the feet of the crowd. He rolls onto his back, trying to catch his wind. The heel is on top of him in seconds, laying into the hero with hard stomps to his muscular torso. The ripped villain bends over and grabs the hero’s mask, wrenching him up to his knees. He fires two fists into the side of The Bat’s masked head. You can see his arms go limp as the blows knock him for a loop.

The heel moves in behind, reaching under the hero’s arms. He forces The Bat up, locking on a full nelson. The cruel villain cinches it in tightly, stretching out the hero’s hard torso. He shakes his prey like a cat playing with a mouse. The hard-bodied hero moans in pain, grunting as he struggles to break free. As hard as he tries, it’s no use. Mr. Riddle’s arms and shoulders are massive and even more pumped as he controls the smaller stud.

Guys are cheering, thrilled to be this close to the action. Mr. Riddle forces Cody forward into the crowd. He tells the nearby fans, “Go ahead, guys, see what a real live jobber bitch feels like!”

At first, guys are shy, but once the first guy starts feeling Cody up, they all join in and it’s chaos. It doesn’t take long before guys are fondling and molesting every inch of his stretched out body, including squeezing and pulling on the Bat’s huge package and nipples. I worry this might get out of hand, but Cody’s bulge is expanding and he’s moaning, so I assume he’s okay.

Mr. Riddle releases the Bat, letting him fall to his knees amongst the throng of fans. The heel strikes a double bicep pose as he stands over the re-grouping hero. Some fans immediately shift their attention, feeling Mr. Riddle’s muscles, caressing him. The villain basks in the attention as the hero crawls between legs to the back wall. I watch The Bat rise up slowly, turning to face the crowd, who are now fixated on Mr. Riddle.

In an authoritative voice, The Bat yells, “MOVE!”

The crowd turns just in time to see The Bat leaping off a chair. They duck allowing him to soar over their heads, right at the villain’s broad chest! The hero flies through air, his arm cocked for a hard fist. Unfortunately for The Bat, he didn’t realize that Mr. Riddle never lost his view of his prey, even during the muscle worship. The bigger muscle stud braces, catching the hero in a bearhug.

Mr. Riddle squeezes on the bearhug hard, sapping more life out of the hero. The Bat doesn't submit, but it's clear from his moans and limp arms that he's feeling exhausted at this point. His sweat-drenched carcass hangs in the punishing clutches of the oversized villain. Mr. Riddle milks the hold for as long as he can before letting up. He doesn't let the hero drop, though. Instead, he reaches down and lifts the hard-bodied hero up across his massive, heaving chest.

With The Bat helplessly held, the villain takes his time, walking over to the ringpost. He slams the hero’s back into the metal beam. BAM! BAM! BAM! After the third time, the hero hunk is noticeably sagging in the villain’s arms. Mr. Riddle turns and slams The Bat down onto the mats that line the ring. WHAM! Cody moans as he hits hard, his back taking the blow.

The Bat shifts on the floor, helplessly grunting as he tries to rise. Behind him, the villain raises his arms and stalks patiently. When the hero reaches hands and knees, Mr. Riddle pounces, latching on a hard full nelson. He drags the hero to his feet, immediately turning towards the ring. Before The Bat can react, the malevolent muscleman charges forward, slamming the hero's weakened abs into the ring apron. BOOM! The hero goes completely limp, as he’s pulled back for another go.

Mr. Riddle charges again, but the hero manages to lift his right boot, planting it on the side of the ring, stopping the charge. The villain is undeterred. He uses his tight grip to shake the smaller muscle stud. The move distracts the hero long enough that the villain charges and slams him again. The Bat can only whimper and cough, desperately trying to keep from throwing up. He's held up only by his opponent's tremendous power.

With a gladiator's scream, Mr. Riddle tightens the full nelson even more. In spite of the pressure, The Bat holds out, refusing to submit. Realizing it's not enough, Mr. Riddle releases the full nelson, throwing the weakened hunk into the crowd in frustration. With all the fans on their feet, The Bat falls onto a chair, clutching his midsection, slumped over. He’s patted on the back, given encouragement and helped to his feet by a couple of fans who savor the feeling of his arms, chest and magnificent ass.

The Bat is standing, with help, but unable to mount any challenge. Taking advantage of his opponent's condition, Mr. Riddle wastes no time. He moves in, picking up The Bat’s limp body. He holds him across his chest then carries his victim over to the announcing table. “MOVE THAT SHIT!” The bloggers grab the laptop and rest it on one of the chairs. Sorry, Internet fans, no more response or commentary from them. You’ll just have to watch and talk amongst yourselves.

With the surface cleared, the amazing muscle beast steps on the empty chair, climbing on top of the edge of the sturdy announcing table. Mr. Riddle towers over the audience, who have moved in close. The Bat meekly kicks as he’s held across the heel’s thick chest, but he’s not going anywhere. The villain shifts then bends down. WHAM!

Mr. Riddle slams The Bat down lengthwise on the table! There’s no give in the reinforced table, designed to withstand multiple 300-lbs pro wrestlers fighting on top of it. The hero rolls from side to side in pain, right in front of the standing crowd. The villain stands over the hero’s ailing body, looking very happy with himself.

The mighty muscle heel kicks open the hero’s legs then kneels down on the table between them. He fires fists into the hero’s wide-open stomach. The Bat tries to roll away, only to have the villain grab him by the balls to keep him steady. The smaller muscle stud’s moans rise an octave as the cruel muscle man squeezes his balls and continues to hammer down with more gut punishment.

The Bat goes limp, his once-hard stomach unable to endure any more abuse. The malevolent muscleman hops to floor. As he moves to the head of the table, he grabs the hero’s wrists and positions his hands over his cowled head. The heel uses The Bat’s wrists to drag his victim’s carcass up the table until his head hangs off the edge. Any attempt to move by the hero is met with pec punishment, as he hangs limp, head and arms hanging off the edge of the table.

Mr. Riddle steps over his muscular playtoy’s head. He reaches down to wedge the masked hero’s face right up under his sweaty crotch then locks it between his rock hard thighs in a tight head scissors. The Bat reaches up and fights to push Mr. Riddle off him, but it’s no use. The villain grabs a stunned Bart by the jacket. He orders the bloggers, “You two – take off the jobber’s trunks!”

Bart looks at Jon. Mr. Riddle says, “NOW!” The two bloggers immediately comply. Jon moves to the other side of the table as Mr. Riddle releases Bart’s jacket. The two men get into position and reach into the Bat’s waistband. In unison, they work the black trunks down his thick thighs. The two men pause, admiring Cody’s porn-star quality manhood. Behind them, the crowd is pushing in even tighter, watching the whole strip (and all wishing it was them). Pete's up in the ring, pointing his camera down while I've pushed my way in close. Bart and Jon finish the job, pulling the black trunks over the black boots and leaving the Bat’s crotch bare.

As Bart and Jon struggle to see who gets to keep the trunks, the crowd moves in to start feeling Cody up again. This time, there’s no shyness. Immediately, guys are grabbing at his balls and jerking his cock. Despite the humiliating and painful predicament, Cody’s manhood powers up until it’s big enough for three guys to touch and play with it at once. Other fans have to settle for nipples, but they don’t mind at all.

Mr. Riddle says with a laugh, “Men, take your time. This jobber’s going nowhere!”

The crowd cheers and it does settle them down. They start taking turns and behaving remarkably civilly. Once everyone has had their chance, two of the fans get an idea. They grab the Bat’s boots and lift his legs up, forcing his legs back over his head. Mr. Riddle grabs hold of the ankles, keeping the hero folded. Guys start fondling the hero’s amazing ass then spanking it until it turns red. The Bat’s grunts only encourage guys to get more bold. It doesn’t take long before a guy leans in and tongues the exposed asshole.

Mr. Riddle commands, “Yeah, get this bitch’s hole nice and wet for me! Oh yeah, that ass is all mine today!”

Two more fans have their turn before Mr. Riddle lets go of the Bat’s ankles. The crowd moves back as Mr. Riddle flexes his arms. Cody is flailing in the scissors, but otherwise powerless. The villain grabs the hero’s wrists, which were resting on the heel’s thick thighs. He forces the hero’s arms up. Bart won The Bat’s trunks, so Mr. Riddle tells Jon to grab Cody’s rock hard cock and hold it up. The blogger happily steps up.

“Well, guys, it’s time for the final submission!”

Mr. Riddle’s thighs tighten. The head scissors goes from uncomfortable to crushing. The Bat’s arms struggle against the villain’s tight grip for a few seconds then go limp. The heel keeps the pressure up for a few more seconds.

“ONE!” Mr. Riddle releases Cody’s left arm, which flops down onto the table. “TWO!” The right arm falls next, crashing down onto his torso then sliding onto the table beside him. “THREE!” The villain nods and Jon releases Cody’s softening cock. Pete zooms in, getting a great shot of the mighty dick toppling over onto the hero’s stomach.

Mr. Riddle spreads his legs and steps back, leaving the Bat’s unconscious body on the table, his head hanging down, pointing at the floor. The match is over and there’s no doubt who the winner is.

I announce, “And your winner of this best two-out-of-three contest is … Mr. Riddle!”

The crowd cheers as Mr. Riddle raises his arms high. He basks in the glory of victory. Even though he’s the villain, it’s clear he’s the fan’s choice. They love seeing (and touching) the unconscious and destroyed hero. And they know, as does Mr. Riddle, that losing comes at a price in The Cave.

Mr. Riddle says, “Stand back, boys. I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to. I should’ve gotten to do this months ago.”

The villain slowly strips off his green trunks. Guys hoot and holler as he works them down his hips, thighs, knees, boots then completely off. The muscle stud casually tosses his trunks to Jon, giving him a keepsake of his own, before he moves in. Bart immediately asks to trade, but the older blogger steadfastly refuses.

To the Riddle Goes the Spoils

Stripped of its spandex prison, the mighty Mr. Riddle's cock immediately grows to its mammoth proportions as he stretches his arms out and strikes a pose. The fans are begging him to fuck the hero hard, but the victorious muscle beast doesn’t need any direction or encouragement. He knows exactly what he wants to do. After some posing and a drink of water, the villain saunters back to The Bat's defeated carcass.

On the table, The Bat starts moaning, beginning to stir from his head scissors-induced slumber. The crushed hero's legs shift slightly and he brings his hands to his forehead. The sexy loser lifts his dangling head parallel to the floor for a moment, lets out a moan then falls limp again. I'm sure Cody's forehead is red after all the blood that must be rushing up there while he lies in this awkward position.

With the hero waking, the victorious heel carefully positions his thick purple head at the defeated stud's lips. It's time to take his prize for winning. The big man spreads his legs to get at the right height then leans forward, bracing his hands on the hero's pecs to keep him from rolling or shifting down to get his head on the table. The Bat smells the scent of Riddle's manhood standing over his nostrils. He feels the tip of the giant cock as it barely touches his lips. Instinctively, the hero's mouth parts slightly, opening for his master's cock.

Mr. Riddle swings his hips in a circle then pushes forward, forcing his giant steel rod into his victim's mouth. With his mouth invaded by the oversized cock, The Bat wakes up immediately, as he chokes on the giant piece of meat being forced down his throat. His hands instinctively reach back, bracing on the villain's hips. The heel actually slows down, giving the defeated man time to regain his senses as he wakes from being put out by the villain's powerful thighs.

For a moment, the hero squirms, but then he relaxes, adjusts and learns to accept the big cock in his mouth. Although humiliated by the loss, Cody knows the stakes and works to deal with the consequences. There was no trickery involved in this match, Mr. Riddle just dominated him, man to man. I know Cody's not happy, but I've never seen him welch on a bet.

With the hero calm, more alert and expertly nursing his cock, the villain begins to pump his hips, ramming his meat slowly in and out of the loser’s mouth. While The Bat was forced to suck this villain’s dick in their last match, it was after the first fall. There was still a chance for redemption. This time, the match is done. Both men know that this is just the warm-up for the main event. Mr. Riddle works his dick in and out, moving a little faster and a lot deeper.

In response to the powerful face fucking, the hero’s dick rises, powering up to show respect and acceptance as he embraces his deserved subservient position. The face fucking goes on, but there's a bigger prize looming. The bigger man slides out, his cock moist and rock hard. The veins visibly pump as the mighty muscle stud's huge dick slaps The Bat’s chin.

"Don't even think of moving, Bat-bitch," Mr. Riddle orders.

Mr. Riddle slowly moves to the other end of the table, admiring his devastated opponent's hard body. When he reaches the end of the table, the villain grabs The Bat’s black pro boots and flips the hero over onto his stomach. The hero stays compliant, looking down over the table's edge as he waits with anticipation and dread. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The muscle heel leaves red marks as he roughly spanks, grabs and fondles Cody's ass cheeks.

Smiling broadly, Mr. Riddle climbs onto the table, kneeling between The Bat's legs. He punches his victim in the back. Cody instinctively reaches for his back, which gives the villain the opportunity to grab his wrist. With another punch, the helpless hero swings his other arm back, giving Mr. Riddle the chance to grab it, as well. The villain locks on a hard double chicken wing, forcing The Bat's arms up his back.

Using the cord from the laptop, the villain binds Cody’s forearms behind his back. It's more symbolic than necessary, but the fans love every minute of it. With The Bat immobilized, the powerful heel seizes the hero's hips, roughly pulling his ass up and back. The dominant hunk shoves Cody into position, pushing his face to the edge of the table while lifting the musclebitch's ass level with his throbbing cock. Cody’s moans as he’s manhandled, unable to do anything but kneel there, his weight supported by his boots, knees and cowled face.

Satisfied, the big bad heel turns to the crowd. He scans for something, before settling his gaze on one group of five Cave wrestlers that have congregated together to watch the finale. The diabolical muscle heel stares down one particular stud wearing animal print mask and thong, a recent recruit who wrestles under the name Jaguar.

Mr. Riddle commands, “You. Get the fuck over here.”

Jaguar responds immediately, jogging up beside the sexy heel. Mr. Riddle grabs his mask, pulls his head back and deep throats the younger wrestler. The sexy kiss is immediately returned, as Jaguar lifts his hands to savor the mouth and chest of the dominant villain. The heel breaks the kiss. He says, “I need a man to gag this bitch. You up for it?”

Jaguar naively asks, “Sure. But gag him with what?” Mr. Riddle rolls his eyes in disappointment and looks away. Suddenly, the younger wrestler smiles as he figures it out. “Wait, I got it, man.”

The younger wrestler quickly moves in front of The Bat’s face before the heel can change his mind. Jaguar pulls down his animal print thong, wedging it under his ample balls. He grabs the hero’s cowl, using it to move Cody’s mouth into position. It doesn’t take more than a second for his thick cock to power up. He eagerly thrusts his cock into Cody’s waiting mouth, pumping slowly. Cody moans as his mouth is violated again. While this is going on, Mr. Riddle is sliding on a condom and getting himself into the perfect position.

Jaguar eagerly pounds his manmeat into The Bat’s mouth. When the villain starts sliding into his ass, the hero chokes and cries out. Cody’s certainly been fucked before, but I don’t know if he’s ever been fucked by a dick this big. Mr. Riddle is a match for any man in length and girth. The pain is evident on the hero's face, but Jaguar’s big dick muffles his cries.

The muscle beast takes it slow, but not easy. Mr. Riddle works his cock inside until he’s plunged all the way in, his hips pressed against my friend’s magnificent ass. Now, the real punishment starts. Mr. Riddle starts pounding the loser’s ass with force, riding him mercilessly. Cody is moaning, adjusting to the huge objects invading from both ends. He didn’t sign up to be face fucked by Jaguar, but it seems like he’s gotten used to the idea.

As he fucks him, Mr. Riddle mocks the bound and helpless hero. Jaguar joins in then some of the crowd start taunting The Bat. They love seeing the muscle stud hero accept his punishment. The physical and verbal abuse goes on, with the hero accepting it all as the price for failure.

“Oh shit man! I can’t hold back, dude!” Jaguar blurts out, as the whole scenario overwhelms him.

Mr. Riddle asks the crowd, “Men, in the Bat-Bitch’s face or down his throat!”

“FACE!” is the fast and popular response from the assembled crowd.

Just in time, Jaguar slides out, immediately exploding, firing his seed all over The Bat’s cowl, mouth and chin. He shoots a giant load, befitting the moment. Almost every wrestler in The Cave wants to dominate The Bat, even a newbie like Jaguar. He milks the last drops from his dick then slides it back in Cody’s mouth.

The young stud orders, “Clean it, Bat-Bitch!”

Behind Cody, Mr. Riddle starts moaning, breathing faster and faster. The big man pumps for another minute before letting out a loud guttural scream. He pulls out and quickly strips off the condom, climaxing with ropes and ropes of cum up and down the hero’s bare back. Cum shoots up over The Bat’s cowl, with two shots even hitting Jaguar’s stomach. Mr. Riddle pumps his cock, working it with everything he has. When he’s done, he sits back. Men pat his back and congratulate him.

Jaguar grabs Cody by the cowl and orders him to clean Mr. Riddle’s cum off his stomach before letting the bound hero’s head fall down. Mr. Riddle stands up, accepting the adoration of the fans. He grabs Jaguar by the arm. “You. Me. Shower.”

Jaguar smiles and follows eagerly through the curtain as they disappear to thunderous applause. I look at The Bat, curled up on the table. A couple of the fans are checking on him. Cody whispers something to them that I can’t hear. The fans roll him onto his back, with his arms still tied, trapping him. I move forward to end this, but the wrestler known as Skull looks at me and shakes his head. I wonder what’s up, but I trust him.

One of the masked bystanders starts pumping The Bat’s dick. Another rubs his chest, while a third kisses the fallen stud. The hero moans as he’s molested by the eager fans. It doesn’t take long before white hot cum shoots into the air like a geyser, flying up then falling, ropes streaking up the hero’s torso. The Bat moans as he’s milked dry and soft. The hero visibly collapses with a slight smile on his face. He catches my eye and winks.

I end the match, signing off the live feed and turning off the cameras. Two fans help Cody up, untying his forearms. He thanks them and I find out he whispered, “Want to finish me off? Roll me on my back.”

The crowd is still energized as Cody regains his focus. Guys tell me that it's the best experience of their lives. Bart declares he'll have to have his first-ever tie for champion of the "porn-guy division" on his blog and maybe have to create a Hall of Fame. The other wrestlers debate whether they want to try the same thing, but all of them desperately want to face Mr. Riddle and/or The Bat.

Meanwhile, Cody looks stunning in defeat, sitting on the table, covered in cum, smiling and engaging with the crowd. Although naked except for cowl and boots, Cody’s completely at ease. He soaks up the praise and attention, shaking hands. After a minute, he grabs one of the nearby towels and lets fans wipe the cum off his body and cowl. Cody poses for pictures, borrowing back his trunks (which he later returns to Bart) and throwing his cape back on.

In the back, I pay Josh - without incident this time. I even give him an extra $500 from the live audience. He wants to become a Cave regular and I can't say no. Not after this. When I return, guys are still there. I have to kick everyone out or they’d never leave. Eventually, only Bart and Jon remain, as we agreed to have dinner with them.

When Cody and I are alone in the locker room, I ask Cody how he feels. He responds, “Great. Sore, but it was fun. Fuck, his body was out of control. Shows me I really need to get back at this. Hard. Jobbing in all those matches as the Pink Punk has taken away my edge. And wow, having a crowd was ... interesting.”

“Yeah, you did good. Couple of strategy mistakes, but he really was a beast. I was shocked. And I have to admit that I was worried a few times about the crowd. The wrestlers did a great job keeping everything right, but I kept thinking that these guys could’ve been psychos. We probably didn't think that part through.”

Cody agrees, acknowledging the live crowd should not be a regular occurrence, but he does push for us to try it again sometime. He heads to the shower and I pack up. Pete has downloaded the files and written out his notes for editing, where he got a great shot, where he was out of position, etc.

I turn out the lights as Cody, Bart, Jon and I head out for an extravagant night of dinner and drinks, thanks to a cool $1,050 in my pocket.

The End