The Cave Undercard 2: Skull vs. Thunder

“Can we talk about Shawn now? Like I said, he’s beefy, strong and pretty athletic. Plus, he was really cool. Great guy. He's not working right now, so he's flexible on schedule. I worked him out a little. He could use a little seasoning, but –”

Ryan stops me, "How much seasoning?"

I pause to choose my words carefully. "I ran him through some moves. He's got good instincts."

Ryan, my friend and business partner, rolls his eyes at me, knowing I'm avoiding the question. "I know what that means. Cody, think with your head, not your heart. Or your dick. You know we don't have time to train from scratch."

Of course Ryan is right in what we can manage. We're young small business owners with full-time jobs and lives outside of The Cave, our gay adult wrestling venture. The Cave is definitely small - just him and me, with the occasional assist from his buddy (and my nemesis) Pete for filming. We're experienced wrestlers and qualified to train, but we've got no resources to run a full-fledged school.

I'm trying to pay attention as he continues to lecture me. He points out that we have a certain standard we're trying to maintain. We're committed to only putting out great action, equal to the gold standard of our kind of wrestling, CDSouth. Some of the other sites just use any hot guys, including ones that should never be there - talentless. awkward, clumsy, stiff. Others deliver cute china dolls in speedos who look afraid to be touched - embarrassing moves, bad acting and punches that miss by a mile. We never want to be that.

So we keep debating about Shawn. He's the same age as Ryan and me, 28. Shawn's rough-and-tough, a blue collar dude who currently makes cash doing odd jobs. He’s confident, but not overbearing. He's a big boy, 6'2" and 225-lbs, but not a bodybuilder. Hairy and pale, there's something real and genuine about Shawn, which is maybe why I sparked to him.

I think he's ridiculously sexy, but Ryan thinks he might be more of a 'specialty taste'. That's code for 'we pay less'. I nod, confirming I already knew that. Sure, we won't pay Shawn as much as some other guys, but it's still a few hundred bucks for 30 minutes in the ring. And if he surprises us and takes off, we'll make it up to him.

Ryan has handled recruiting longer than me, but that doesn't mean I can't recognize talent. Hell, I'm the talent The Cave was built off in my alter egos, The Bat and Pink Punk. I like Shawn. Ryan has overruled me on other guys, but I decide to exert myself here. Shawn definitely needs some training, but I fucking loved him. So this time, I do the overruling. He can have his guys, I want Shawn. Yes, he’s probably at the bottom of the experience level we can handle, but I’m willing to invest the time and energy.

Ryan relents. I call Shawn to welcome him to The Cave.

Introducing Skull

Shawn’s first match is the second of four we're filming today. Footage from the first match is being downloaded, cameras reset, the ring cleaned and we’re ready to go. I check on Shawn, happy he showed and is ready to go all the way through with this. He was a little disappointed with how little we're paying, but then surprised me by offering up a sex stakes match. We definitely pay more for that kind of action, because they sell a lot more. So now, he's happy and I'm happy.

I’ve worked a lot with Shawn over the past three weeks and he’s come a long way. I brought him to the gym I work at to build balance, flexibility, strength and stamina. I brought him to the ring to ground him in wrestling, even working him out with a few indie wrestlers. And, I worked with him one-on-one for hours. Outside of my day job, I feel like I've done nothing but train Shawn. Even with the bonus for some erotic action, the hairy stud isn't going to make much per hour on the first match, with all the time he's invested, but I know he'll perform well enough to get invited back for more matches.

Ryan came to the last practice to make sure Shawn was ready to face a guy without killing him and was impressed by his skills. They sparred a little and it went really well. Ryan had to admit that it looks like I was right, but reminded me that what Shawn does in front of the camera is what really matters.

Shawn decides at the last minute that he does want a mask. I should mention that we use a lot of masks and superhero alter egos. It’s kind of our thing. So it's no problem, although we didn’t train in a mask, so I’m a little worried about that. Still, I get it. Guys often change their mind when the reality of the camera enters the picture and they realize that this will be available for download and DVD. Even as small as we are, with a million disclaimers, some jerk will post the match on YouTube, rip it to DVD and sell it, or share it via Torrents. It's a threat to our existence, but it also means that there's an even bigger chance that someone might recognize you.

I give Shawn the identity of Skull, because it's gear we’ve got on hand, it has never been used and it suits him. Shawn looks good in the simple black squarecuts with a skull on the front and black pro boots. When he adds the mask, I'm sold.

I’ve got Shawn wrestling Steve. It’s not as easy to pair up these bigger guys, but at 5'11"/230-lbs, Steve’s a good match for Skull size-wise. Among his multiple victories in The Cave, he squashed me in my Pink Punk identity with a lot of low blows and crotch punishment. Despite that, I think he’s actually a cool guy. Plus, he’s adorably handsome and rocks a pair of trunks, which is always important.

Since our match, I’ve been working Steve out in my day job as a personal trainer. He’s been a good client, training and eating right. His body is a lot more ripped than it was just a few weeks ago. Steve's down ten pounds, but he's stronger and more muscular. This will be a tough challenge for a rookie like Shawn/Skull.

Steve wrestles as Thunder. He’s sweet as hell until he enters the ring then it’s like he flips a switch and becomes a cocky jerk. Today, he’s wearing his own gear – white patent leather boots, mauve trunks and mask with white lightning bolts on them. With his new tan, he looks awesome.

Even though Skull looks like a villain/heel and Thunder looks like a hero/face, we don't force guys to play traditional good guy/bad guy roles. These studs aren't actors, so we've found it's better to let them be natural. We also don't force villains to win and heroes to lose, even though that's a huge fetish of mine. Still, it's great to have a contrast and we have a nice one here  - smooth beefy muscle in mauve versus hairy beefy muscle in black.

Stakes are simple: it's best two out of three. Lose one fall, you suck your opponent's cock. Lose a second fall, you're fucked, literally.

Round One

The two studs get introduced and filmed entering the ring. Ryan does a great job with this. I’m off to the side, out of view, watching and a little nervous. Skull and Thunder get set. Not much flexing to start this match, just two big, macho studs circling each other in the ring. There’s a little jawing, with the ever-cocky Thunder taunting the rookie Skull, but they lock up pretty fast.

Thunder takes an early advantage, shoving Skull back into the corner. He breaks then tries for a gut punch, but Shawn's ready. He tightens his abs and takes the punch. Skull grunts, but immediately counters with a forearm club across the side of Thunder's head. It surprises and staggers the smooth beefy stud. Skull follows up with a knee to Thunder's abs, sending him back three steps.

As Thunder sets, Skull is already charging forward, leveling him with a hard clothesline. Both men go down, with the hairy rookie on top. When their 455-lbs of pure beef crashes down, the whole ring shakes. Shawn springs up, stomping Thunder's smooth abs. The smooth muscle stud successfully blocks the last stomp, but can't move out of the way fast enough when Skull leaps in the air, crashing across his stomach with a hard elbow.

Thunder tries to roll away, but Skull is pretty quick for a novice big man. When Thunder rolls onto his stomach, Skull rolls with him. The rookie lies on top of Thunder's back, quickly bringing his forearm down across the back of Thunder's neck then another. With his opponent stunned, my new protege smoothly slides forward, beside Thunder's head into a seated position on the mat. Skull locks on a side headlock, squeezing the moaning Thunder's head hard as he holds him face down on the mat.

Thunder grunts as his head is squeezed. He fires fists into Skull's back until the rookie is forced to let go. The men roll up. Thunder charges forward three steps with a shoulder block. THUD! Skull is able to brace and remain on his feet. The two men take a step back, eying each other. They collide again, bumping shoulders. THUD! Again, neither man is much moved, merely bouncing back a step. They nod, getting a feeling for the other, as they start to warily circle.

Thunder lifts his arms for a collar-and-elbow lockup. Skull moves in, but lifts his boot first, slamming it into the smooth muscled abs of his opponent. The hairy rookie plants his hands on the surprised Thunder's chest then forces him into the corner. SMACK! Skull deliver a hard chop across Thunder's heaving pecs. The smooth stud sags in the corner, but Skull forces him back up. SMACK! SMACK! Two more chops have the same impact.

With a tight grip on Thunder's mask, Skull pulls his opponent out of the corner, turning to position his back against his chest. Skull reaches back with his other hand and grabs behind Thunder's head. He kneels down then flips the smooth muscle hunk over his shoulder. Thunder flies over, down to the mat, landing butt first, in a perfectly executed snapmare takedown. The move disorients Thunder as Skull springs up behind him.

Standing behind the seated Thunder, Skull measures him up then drops to one knee, driving an elbow right on top of Thunder's head. The rookie wraps his arm around his beefy opponent's neck in a chinlock, using the hold to force him to his feet. Skull charges the two of them forward, running Thunder into the corner front first. Thunder's smooth torso collides with the turnbuckles hard. Skull roughly turns the moaning muscle man around, positioning his back against the corner.

Skull grabs the middle ropes, lowers his shoulder then fires three hard shoulder blocks into Thunder’s smooth abs. When Skull backs off, Thunder collapses down, sitting on the canvas. Skull lifts his big black boot and plants it on Thunder’s beefy pecs. Using the top ropes for leverage, he presses down hard on the thick muscles. Thunder grabs Skull’s ankle and tries to relieve some of the pressure as the big man bears down hard with the rough rubber sole of his boot.

Thunder moans in pain as Skull’s boot slides up his chest to his throat. Skull pushes, forcing Thunder back and over the bottom turnbuckle. The hard base of Skull’s boot drives under Thunder’s chin, pushing his head down onto the ring apron outside the ring as he hangs over the bottom turnbuckle, his hips and packed trunks elevated off the canvas. Skull reaches over the top rope and grabs hold of the middle rope, using it for even greater leverage. A surprised Thunder helplessly moans at the weight and force of the rookie's boot.

After a minute, Skull lifts his black boot, letting Thunder slide back to a seated position in the ring. The ring veteran coughs, but gets no break. Skull immediately bends down, grabs hold of Thunder's shiny white boot. He forcefully drags the smooth slab of beef back into the ring. Again showing surprising speed for a big rookie, Skull runs back, ricochets off the rope and leaps on the air, coming down with an elbow drop into Thunder's abs.

The dominant novice forces Thunder to his feet, spinning and pushing him back into the corner. Skull delivers another three shoulder blocks right into the surprised Thunder’s abs. He rises up and delivers a fast series of punches into the stomach, torturing Thunder before the smooth wrestler can even react.

The rookie is feeling confident as Thunder sags there, mounting no opposition. Skull chops across his opponent's smooth, heaving pecs. He eyes Thunder's big nipples as he chops the thick chest muscles again. Skull moves in front of Thunder, rubs the big pecs then locks on a tight nipple twister. Thunder cries out in ecstasy as Skull taunts him with the finger clamps, squeezing the tips of Thunder's big chest.

As Skull moves in closer, strengthening his grip to do more punishment, Thunder surprises the hairy opponent. He suddenly lifts his legs up and wraps them around Skull’s beefy waist. While hanging on the top rope, Thunder locks on a tight scissors on the standing Skull. The savvy ring veteran squeezes hard, taking sudden control over the novice. The power of the scissors is obvious, as Thunder's thick, muscular legs flex.

"Yeah, feel that! I'm going to crush you, fucking newbie jobber!"

Thunder really amps up the pressure, as Skull moans in pain. The rookie loses his ineffectual grip on Thunder's amazing chest. He arches back, trying to part the legs with his hands, but it's no use. Skull's arms are never going to overpower Thunder's legs. As Skull drops to a knee, his head drops. Thunder is feeling good, in control of the hairy beefcake that is failing in the scissors. Thunder hangs comfortably, resting with the top rope under his armpits. His legs look huge and unbreakable as the muscles pump and tighten.

Skull is a rookie, but he can see salvation. POW! POW! POW! Three hard punches into Thunder's abs are all it takes to distract the smooth muscle stud. The scissors loosened, Skull rises back up and delivers another series of ab punishment until Thunder's mighty legs fall apart, dropping to the canvas, helplessly. Realizing Thunder's chest is too strong, Skull focuses on the abs, moving in with a hard knee lift.

The rookie backs up then drags Thunder from the corner by his wrist, pulling him into another knee lift that slams into the weakening stomach. Skull wraps a bearhug around Thunder's waist, hoisting the big stud up and resting him on his thighs and shoulder. Thunder moans in pain, as Skull shows off his strength, bouncing Thunder in the hold. The smooth stud struggles as he hangs over Skull's left shoulder. Pain is etched on the smooth stud's face, his resistance leaving him.

WHAM! In desperation, Thunder slams his tricep into the back of Skull's mask. It's enough for him to drop to his feet and push free. Thunder takes a second to catch his breath, but it's a second too long. Skull charges forward, forcing Thunder into the ropes and firing away with a series of ab punches. The rookie then whips the stunned Thunder across the ring, into the ropes. As Thunder bounces off, he's met with a standing drop kick to his midsection that sends him flying back into the ropes then crashing down on his face to the canvas. Thunder clutches his abs as he lies there.

The smooth muscle stud is forced up and into an abdominal stretch by the rookie. Skull bends and locks Thunder's powerful body in the rough hold as he stretches him out. Skull adds in a series of hard forearms, slamming them into Thunder's wide open midsection. It's not long before Thunder is grunting then moaning as he's tortured. Skull demands a submission, but Thunder's not giving.

The more experienced Thunder starts shifting. Skull loses his balance, just a little, which in turn loosens his grip. With that small opening, Thunder manages to flip Skull over his hip, crashing him onto the mat. As Skull falls, Thunder staggers back into the ropes. He bounces off and drives a boot into the rising Skull's temple, toppling him across the ring.

"Fuck. I'm going to make you pay, rookie!"

Thunder marches up, but Skull's ready. He dives at Thunder's midsection slamming his shoulder into the wide open abs. The air leaves Thunder as Skull pulls back then from his knees, he pounds the standing Thunder's red stomach. Thunder topples down to the canvas, rolling onto his back. Skull moves beside his opponent, pinning Thunder's right arm with his knee. Another punch then Skull dives in with a double ab claw. You can actually see the smooth stud's abs lift in the tight grip, as Skull's long, thick fingers dig into the softened flesh.

Thunder kicks the mat in pain and frustration as his abs are torn apart. He suffers, but refuses to submit, even after a minute of this cruel torture. Skull releases the hold, rising to his feet then coming down with a double axe handle into the softened flesh. He returns to the ab claw, breaking Thunder down, but still no submission.

Skull releases the double ab claw again, this time grabbing a handful of hair and pulling the limp Thunder up. The rookie reaches between Thunder's legs, grabbing a tight grip on his big round ass. Skull lifts Thunder up and carries him to the corner, draping him across the top turnbuckle. He forces Thunder's left leg over the top rope, adjusting position until Skull is resting on top of the turnbuckle.

The hairy beefcake starts in with more cruel ab punishment. His strategy is obvious as he hammers down with elbows and fists. Thunder hangs there limply, unable to stop the amazing assault on his once-solid abs. Skull keeps up the pounding then locks on a claw for the third time. This time, he doesn't hold it, just uses it to drag Thunder off the top turnbuckle and into the ring by his stomach. Thunder collapses down, clutching his battered abs.

Skull is unrelenting. He moves in behind his opponent as Thunder lies there in the fetal position. The rookie beefcake grabs under Thunder's armpits, forcing him to his feet. He slaps on a full nelson, locking his fingers behind the mauve mask of the smooth muscle stud. Skull wrenches on the full nelson, really squeezing. Thunder's amazing body is stretched and displayed, his abs looking red and soft from all the abuse, his nipples still hard and standing out proudly.

Thunder is crying out in the submission hold, but not submitting. He fights to break free, but before he can, Skull runs them both forward. They race into the corner, with Skull lifting right before impact. Thunder's abs hit on the top turnbuckle, driving the air from his body. CLANG! Skull repeats the move, ramming Thunder into the other three corners. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! By the time he's done, the smooth muscle stud is hanging limply in the full nelson.

Skull tosses Thunder down to the mat, stomping his ruined abs before dropping down with a knee that sinks deep into the tortured flesh. Skull moves around and plants his ass on Thunder's face, pinning his shoulders with his knees and facing the smooth torso. Once again, he applies a claw, really bearing down. Thunder thrashes, but can't move in the pin.

Skull commands, "GIVE!"

"Oh, uh, givegivegive!" Thunder moans his submission, unable to bear any more ab abuse. Skull releases the claw then rises up to his feet, winning his first fall in his first match. Impressive.

Between Rounds

The victorious Skull holds his arms high as he looks down at Thunder lying on his back, massaging his abs. Shawn knows exactly what to do next. He knows exactly what winning the first fall entitles him to. Skull slowly peels his black squarecuts and jock down his thighs until his impressive cock and balls are hanging free. His rod is swollen, pointing straight out, showing his readiness and excitement at winning in The Cave.

Skull drops down beside Thunder's head. The hairy stud leans forward over his fallen opponent, planting his hands on the other side of Steve's shoulder. With his big package directly beside Thunder's face, Skull says, "C'mon, Thunder, time to pay up."

Thunder also knows the drill. He turns his head and accepts the big cock. Skull pumps his hips, face fucking Thunder as he lies on his back. There are moans from both parties, as Skull slowly thrusts his hips back-and-forth, forcing his cock into the unmoving Thunder's mouth. Skull's firm butt is tensed as he takes his prize.

I can see Thunder's trunks growing, his bulge getting more obvious as he lies there, his mouth paying off his body's submission. Skull sees it too, reaching down and roughly massaging the thick rod trapped inside the mauve spandex prison. The smooth muscle man rolls onto his side, taking a more active role, sucking Skull's magnificent manhood. Thunder bobs his head, turning it as he goes down deeper and deeper until his nose rests in Shawn's neatly trimmed bush.

Skull puts his head back, moaning as his dick is worked by a blow job master. I see his ass and back tense as Thunder picks up the pace. Shawn realizes he's getting close and mutters it. To his shock, Thunder pulls off, edging the rookie wrestler. When Skull looks down, disappointed he didn't cum, Thunder is lying on his side with a sly grin.

In his usual cocky tone, Thunder explains, "You gotta win a second fall to shoot, newbie." he rolls away and springs up, heading into his corner.

Skull's shoulders sag as he remembers it's best two out of three, having lost himself in the talent of Thunder's mouth. He tries to relax, but his cock is giant. He breathes deeply, and rises, moving to the corner, cock still standing at attention. The hairy stud calms down and his cock softens a little, but won't go all the way down. Still, it's enough that he can stuff it back inside the jock then the black gear as they get ready for the second fall.

Round Two

After his embarrassing loss to the rookie in the first round, Thunder looks pretty determined not to let it happen again. His usual cockiness is suppressed as he stares down Skull. To start the second fall, Thunder lifts his arms and Skull matches the move. They lock fingers, immediately pressing against each other. It’s a classic contest of strength, always a good start to a fall with the big boys.

Skull’s height and reach advantage help give him an immediate advantage, not to mention his freshness. Thunder presses up, holding his own, but you can still see his core isn't what it was. They’re grunting fast, as their muscles pump to meet the challenge. I can’t help but admire how cut Thunder’s arms are now, as his biceps and triceps grow, dwarfing the taller hunk’s. The smooth stud’s chest, shoulders and forearms all expand as he flexes to try to hold off Skull’s immediate dominance.

The grunts and moans are growing louder. Skull is impressing me, too. His muscles are smaller and less defined, but he’s more than holding his own against the more experienced muscle man. Skull’s beefy power and quick moves keep him on top. To turn the tide, Thunder pushes forward, slamming his smooth, heaving chest into Skull’s. The impact has some force, enough to distract the rookie. Suddenly, it's Thunder who's pressing down, assuming the advantage.

With Thunder in control, Skull’s grunting gets louder. I see his muscles working, but the veteran of the ring is ready for his every counter. The contest keeps going, each stud covered in sweat as they test their stamina. With another chest slam, Skull drops to one knee. He springs back up, but Thunder forces him lower and lower. Thunder rises to the balls of his feet, trying to win this power showdown.

WHOMP! Suddenly, Skull drives forward, driving his shoulder into Thunder’s battered midsection, surprising the ring veteran. The furry rookie rises up then sends his big black boot into his opponent’s bruised stomach, again attacking Thunder's abs. The smooth muscle man bends over while Skull reasserts control. He easily forces Thunder to his knees, towering over him and forcing Thunder’s bigger arms down and wrists back. The kneeling muscle stud is moaning as Skull moves in close and applies the pressure.

"Fuck!" Thunder moans as he kneels there, dominated by the rookie, his muscles tense and struggling. Surprisingly, he says, “Punk, I love your trunks.”

“What?” Skull asks in surprise, just as he has Thunder where he wants him.

Thunder says, “Yeah, that skull on the front? Perfect target!”

Before Skull can even process the words, Thunder headbutts Skull’s big pouch. The beefy rookie moans and loses concentration. Thunder rips his hands free from the contest of strength and thrusts forward, slamming his forearm across Skull’s black squarecuts, swiping across the prominent bulge. Skull gives a loud yelp in response, his legs buckling from the sudden shot of pain racing through his body.

The kneeling Thunder turns his arm and drives his elbow in hard, connecting with a third quick strike to Skull’s package. Skull bends over, eyes watering, falling right into the rising left fist of Thunder. CRACK! The blow to his chin topples Skull to the canvas, holding his aching pouch and shaking out his head.

Thunder rises up, looking a lot more confident now. The lengthy struggle has really pumped him up, as he looks twice as muscular as the start of the match. The low blows have reduced Skull to using his elbow to try to pull himself into the corner. Thunder isn’t going to wait. He grabs Skull’s boot, drags him to the middle of the ring. Skull lies helplessly on his back, unable to focus enough to do much. The rookie is still trying to regain his wits as Thunder stands there, holding Skull's leg in the air.

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Thunder kicks the back of the rookie’s leg with the sole of his boot. With the muscle softened, the smooth stud measures Skull up, turns then drops down with an elbow to the inside of Skull’s knee. He twists and turns the knee, wrenching it hard, trying to limit Skull’s mobility. Thunder uses his weight to pin the thigh down while lifting Skull's ankle. The hairy hunk suffers, rolling his torso and clutching his masked face as his knee is ravaged, bent the wrong way. I can hear the moans of pain, knowing exactly what he’s going through.

As a rookie, Skull doesn’t have the experience to free himself, so he resorts to ineffectual swats at Thunder’s thick shoulder and reaching for the back of the muscle stud’s mask. When Thunder does move, he doesn’t let go, instead just shifting position. WHOMP! WHOMP! Two knee drops crash down into the side of Skull’s punished leg joint. POW! POW! The knee drops are followed by two fists, where Thunder holds them for a moment, twisting his knuckles through the flesh and onto the bone. When the muscle stud rises off the beefy novice, Skull reaches down for his knee, his plaintive cries echoing through the arena.

Thunder has a strut in his step now, circling and jawing, trashtalking the fallen warrior below him. He reaches down and grabs hold of the suffering Skull’s mask. He pulls him forward and up to his feet, grabbing him between the legs and under his neck. The smooth muscle man easily lifts the 225-lbs beefy hunk off the mat, carrying him across his arms.

Thunder moves to the corner, hoists Skull upside down, and lowers him, head down to the mat and right knee over the top rope. The more experienced muscle man locks Skull’s right boot under the metal that holds the turnbuckle to the ringpost. Skull tries to swing his left boot over the top rope to help support his weight, but Thunder blocks the move, roughly forcing the boot under the top rope. All Skull's weight is supported by his right leg with most of the pressure on the right knee, just as Thunder wants it. It's clear what he's targeting this round.

With Skull trapped, hanging upside down and helpless, Thunder smiles broadly. The hirsute ring novice still struggles to free himself, but Thunder is quick to counter. He starts in with boots to Skull's torso, keeping his shoulders down on the canvas. Thunder puts one boot on his opponent's scruffy chin then starts with the real punishment. He hammers a few fists into Skull's knee that supports all his weight. POW! POW! POW! The blows keep coming, breaking down the joint.

Thunder climbs to the middle ropes. He lifts one boot and carefully plants it between Skull's legs. He pushes down, crushing the rookie's balls, but also adding even more weight onto his knee. Skull cries out in pain, thrashing like a fish out of water as he hangs in the corner, defenseless against the power of Thunder's boot. The smooth muscle stud finally hops down to the canvas.

"Oh yeah! C'mon, jobber! Show me how tough you are!"

Thunder lifts his arms in victory, with a proud smile on his face. With Thunder busy posing, Skull finally manages to free himself. He collapses in a heap. He breathes deeply, trying to summon some strength. He grabs the ropes and starts dragging himself up, keeping pressure off his leg. As he rises, Thunder moves in. He drops to a knee and casually sweeps his arm behind Skull's good leg. The furry beefcake topples down as Thunder rises, pointing and mocking his 'clumsiness'.

Thunder grabs his bulge, squeezing it at Skull. He taunts, "Hey newbie, if you want to save yourself more pain, you can just give now and suck my fat cock."

The rising Skull takes a wild swing at Thunder's pouch, but it's too slow. Thunder easily steps out of the way, laughing the whole time. The more experienced wrestler responds with a boot that sends Skull back to the canvas. Thunder quickly grabs Skull's boots, elevating them. He brings his boot between Skull's legs, stomping down onto his hairy stomach. After three stomps, Thunder lets go of Skull's left leg. He moves for a spinning toe hold, but then crosses Skull's leg back. Thunder falls back. It's a figure four and its perfect.

Skull thrashes wildly as he lies there, trapped in the deadly hold. The pressure on his already ravaged knee is intense. He's crying out, moaning and desperate to resist. Thunder is cranking, but the hold itself is doing enough damage. Skull puts his hands over his face, trying to summon some reserve ad hold on, but it's not happening.

Skull tries flipping over to reverse the hold, but Thunder's 230-lbs is set and not easily moved. Maybe if he was fresher, but he's not. The cries become shorter, higher-pitched and louder, echoing through the ring area. The big, tough blue collar dude is powerless as he lies there, trapped in Thunder's leg hold.

"GIVE! Oh god, GIVE!" Skull cries out his submission, unprompted.

"Damn right you do, jobber!" Thunder lets up on the pressure, but this is a slow hold to unravel, so Skull suffers for another few precious seconds until he finally feels the momentary relief of his submission.

Thunder rolls to his feet, flexing his arms and boasting in the ring. Skull lies at his feet, moaning and curling up, holding his knee. The smooth muscle stud comes through to even things up. Based on how destroyed Skull looks, I really wonder if he can mount a comeback.

After the Round

Thunder saunters up to his victim. The winner of the second fall grabs Skull's black squarecuts and pulls them down over the big black leather boots, leaving Skull bare-assed in his black jock. Thunder casually tucks the trunks into his white boot. He circles the fallen furry stud, smiling as he watches Skull suffer. The beefy rookie can't get up, at least not on his own. The leg punishment really took its toll.

Thunder orders, "C'mon, get up, newbie! You've got work to do! This cock ain't blowing itself, boy."

The smooth muscle stud gets impatient. He grabs Skull's arm and drags him across the canvas to the corner. Thunder places his arms under Skull's armpits and together, they get Skull to standing. The battered beefcake hops on one leg for a moment, before he works his leg back into action.

With his opponent finally able to stand on two feet, Thunder pushes Skull into the corner.  The anxious muscle man climbs up to the second rope, his bulging crotch in perfect position in front of the 6'2" newbie. Skull reaches up and carefully lowers the tight mauve trunks, exposing Thunder's ass and manhood. Skull carefully wedges the trunks below Thunder's balls, staring at the thick cock in his face. Thunder jerks himself a couple of times to full-on hard-on then leans forward down a bit, bringing his cock towards the ailing Skull's mouth.

"Open wide, loser. Suck that big dick."

Skull understands the stakes. He doesn't resist or whine. The beefy wrestler leans forward and skillfully engulfs Thunder's cock in his mouth. The smooth muscle stud lets out a moan as he's sucked slowly by Skull. The furry hunk does his best to handle Thunder's full-size cock, giving as well as he received earlier. Thunder's moans of joy tell him exactly how well he's doing.

"Yeah, work that dick, rook. Yeah, take it. That cock's headed straight for your ass next, boy."

As Skull sucks, you can see Thunder's body tense. Perched high on the ropes, the tanned muscle man savors the dominance as he towers over everything: the ring, the cameras, and most importantly, his victim. He keeps barking out instructions, making sure Skull knows exactly who's in charge.

Thunder is careful not to let himself get too far. He pulls out, slapping the hairy loser across the face with his dick. A line of wet streaks across the white of Skull's mask. The dominant muscle stud hops down off the ropes and backs up, arms spread wide in a cocky pose. He flexes for the camera before pulling his trunks up, carefully sliding his stiff cock inside his stretched out mauve spandex trunks.

The bare-assed Skull steps out of the corner, his leg seems fine. He adjusts his manhood in his jock, watching as Thunder picks up his black squarecuts. The beefy rookie stares Thunder down as he paces near his corner. He's fixated on his gear, as the sight of Thunder playing with his black skull-symbol trunks is embarrassing.

Thunder commands, "C'mon, newb, let's get going. I can't wait to fuck that sweet ass of yours."

Skull says, "You haven't won yet. You screamed like a bitch after the first fall. Let's hear you do that again."

The two big men circle the ring, ready for action. For his part, Thunder look awfully confident now, so it'll be interesting to see if Skull can come back.

Round Three

Like I said, out of the ring, Steve's a great guy. In the ring, Thunder plays the role of an arrogant son-of-a-bitch really well. He's taunting Skull, swinging the hairy stud's black squarecuts on his finger as they circle. With a fall under his belt, Thunder is feeling pretty sure of himself. Skull is looking at the trunks. I want to tell him to forget about them, but I'm just an invisible observer.

"Let's see how I'm gonna beat you this time." Thunder flings the stolen gear back at Skull, hitting him in the chest. "Hm, chest. Nice. I'm gonna wreck those hairy slabs of beef until you can't move. Did you want to keep those nipples?"

Skull ignores the verbal abuse, but holds the trunks when they hit him. I want to scream, "oh no, don't do it," at the top of my lungs, but I resist. I watch helplessly as Shawn unfolds the black spandex and moves to slip them back on. No sooner has he lifted a leg then his eyes leave Thunder to bring his boot through squarecuts. Trunks over boots is never easy, especially mid-match. Stupid rookie!

Of course, Thunder charges his distracted foe. With a foot off the mat and squarecuts tangled on his boot, Skull is a sitting duck. The ring veteran crashes into him, sending him flying into the corner, squashing his full 230-lbs on top of the unprepared rookie. He forces Skull's arms over the top turnbuckle. True to his word, he strikes Skull's hairy pecs, delivering a rough series of chops that echo through the ring area. Shawn sags in the corner, his white chest now a bright shade of red.

"I can't believe that worked! You're not too bright, are ya rook?"

Thunder moves out into the ring, giving his opponent a breather. Skull rises up, rubbing his chest. He kicks his square cuts off his boot. Ugh, not again. Has he never watched a wrestling match before? In the second it takes for him to look down, Thunder is charging again. He leaps high in the air, driving his knee into Shawn's left pec. The turnbuckle shakes as over 450-lbs of combined muscle men crashing together strain the ropes.

Skull sinks even lower into the corner this time, the wind really taken out of the hairy beast. Thunder bounces off. He lands on his feet then springs up. Shawn's eyes go wide as he sees two black soles coming at him. Thunder's leap turns into a perfectly executed drop kick, his feet hitting squarely on Skull's wide-open chest. I see a major bruise already starting on the left pec, just above his nipple.

The dominant muscle stud is back to his feet before Skull can summon the strength to move. Thunder grabs his weakened opponent by the arm. He pulls him out of the corner, tripping him to the canvas, face first. Skull takes the impact hard, barely able to brace his fall. Steve doesn't hesitate. He grabs the back of the rookie's mask, pulling him off the canvas. Thunder pulls Skull up to kneeling then bends him backwards, locking his arm over the black-clad stud's chin.

Thunder's dragon sleeper is locked on tight. Skull has no idea how to counter it, as he's bent back uncomfortably, stretching out his knees with pressure on his back. Not to mention that's it's a sleeper, the most obvious threat.

"Don't worry, jobber. I'm not gonna put you out. I could, but I promised chest punishment and Thunder keeps his promises."

With Skull trapped, his chest is wide open, ready for more abuse. Thunder starts slamming forearms across the thick slabs of beef, tenderizing them for whatever he has planned. The constant abuse is taking its toll. I see more purple on Shawn's left pec and the muscles don't look as hard as before. Skull is yelping with each blow now, his arms hanging down limply.

Thunder decides to move on. He release the hold, pushing Skull down, flat on his back on the mat. Shawn stretches out his legs, taking the pressure off his knees. While he's doing that, Thunder is already up. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! A few boots crash down on Shawn's chest. I don't know how much more he can take of this. As hot as it is, seeing him suffering, wearing only his jock, I want to see him to stage a comeback.

Skull rolls to the ropes, resting on his stomach. He takes a few stomps to his back, but the muscle holds. He pulls himself up. When Thunder moves in, Skull unleashes a hard right, driving into Thunder's pouch. Steve's eyes go wide as he's given a taste of his own medicine, his manhood crushed by the force of Shawn's fist. Skull opens his hand, clamping on a crotch claw.

Thunder folds over Skull's big hand, as it tightens around his package. The hairy stud rises, keeping his grip locked tight. Thunder is moaning uncontrollably as he feels the pain he loves to inflict on others. I'm silently cheering as they move to the middle of the ring. Skull takes his other hand and wraps it around Thunder's throat. With impressive power, he hoists the other big muscle man over his head, lifting him up high. Thunder's really crying out now, as he's held over seven feet in the air by his neck and pouch.

Skull can't hold him for long, mere seconds, but it's enough. He lowers one hand, flipping Thunder over, dropping him on his back. CRASH! Even without much added force, a body slam from that height makes an impact. Thunder immediately sits up, nursing his back. Skull drives his boot into the small of his opponent's muscular back, adding to the pain.

Back in the game, Skull grabs Thunder by the hair. He forces him to his feet then whips him into the corner with authority. BANG! Skull capitalizes on his first round work by holding the ropes and driving his boot into Thunder's abs, stomping the muscles fives times before grabbing Thunder's wrist. Skull drives his knee into Thunder's abs then pulls on his wrist to whip him across the ring.

Thunder hits, back first into the opposite turnbuckle. BANG! Skull follows up by running at the corner. He leaps into the air for a cross body. Unfortunately, his more experienced opponent sees it coming a mile away. Thunder ducks, letting Skull land hard on the turnbuckle. Skull's stomach takes the hit then he actually flips over the corner ropes, hitting on the ring apron, barely holding onto the ropes to avoid the fall to the concrete floor below.

Skull manages to steady himself, but Thunder isn't waiting. He's already there, grabbing the back of Skull's mask. He pulls up, forcing the beefy rookie to his feet, facing out of the ring. From behind, Thunder bends Skull over the top rope, exposing his hairy chest.another five forearms slam down hard. When Thunder lets go, the ropes ricochet Skull forward, sending him to the floor below.

The rookie takes the bump well, but he's still a little stunned. Thunder climbs out after him. He drags the dazed Skull to the ring apron, pushing him back first. Skull's back collides against the ring hard. As he arches his back, his chest rises. Thunder chops the left pec again until Skull manages to stagger to the side, desperate to escape. The smooth muscle man is unrelenting, though. He grabs the back of Skull's jock, stretches the waistband and uses it to pull his opponent into a waiting fist.

Skull drops to a knee from the kidney shot. Now it's Thunder's turn to show his strength. He circles around front. He slaps Skull across the face then bends down and lifts the big stud across his chest. With one hand between Skull's legs, fingers digging into his bare ass for support and the other on his lower shoulder, Thunder holds Shawn up, maintaining his control with ease.

Wit Skull up and helpless, Thunder moves to the ring post. He hits Shawn's back into the hard steel. Thunder does it again then holds it, pressing his weight forward, causing Skull to moan as his back is crushed against the unmoving pole. With Skull suitably softened up, Thunder rolls him under the bottom rope, until Skull is on his back, feet in the ring, head dangling outside the ring. Thunder grabs his opponent's mask and forces his head down.

Skull is helpless as he lies there, chest up and head outside the ring. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! Thunder delivers a series of elbows to Skull's pecs and the furry stud is crying out in pain. There's no resistance left in those pecs, the muscles broken down. Thunder must feel it too. He rubs his hands over the chest and squeezes, testing the muscles. It would look like a sensual massage, if I hadn't seen the abuse up to this point.

After caressing Skull's pecs, Thunder rolls into the ring. He grabs one of Skull's black boots and drags him inside the ring. He reaches down and grabs a firm grip on Skull's mask, forcing him up. UNH! Skull tries to defend himself with a fist to Thunder's abs, but I don't think the stud even felt it this time.

When Skull's on his feet, Thunder grabs him around the throat. With a sudden lift, he executes a devastating choke slam, almost knocking Skull out in the ring. The cocky dominator starts to count. ONE! TWO! Thunder arrogantly pulls the rookie up by his mask at two. Using the same grip, Thunder drags the limp Skull to his feet again. I'm impressed the hairy novice can stand after the choke slam.

SLAP! Thunder slaps Skull across the face then asks, "Had enough, boy? I think it's time to end this. I got that chest of yours all ready for something really special."

The huge purple welt on Skull's left pec makes a perfect bullseye for what's coming next. It's been a long match and the rookie's taken too much abuse in too short a time. I think that Thunder is just too strong for him at this point. The tanned muscle stud folds Skull's left arm up, forcing it past his ear, behind his head. The helpless hairy hunk lifts his right arm up, planting it on Thunder's smooth, solid pec. He tries to push Thunder back, but it's no use. 230-lbs may as well be 2,000 at this point.

Thunder taunts, "C'mon, rook, put some muscle into it!"

The cocky Thunder turns, forcing Skull to circle the ring, giving the cameras, both stationary and handheld, a perfect view of the furry stud's weakness against Thunder's now overwhelming power. The ring veteran is in no rush to end this. He knows what we all know - Skull is done. When they stop, a few hard punches into Skull's left pec sink deep as Thunder searches for exactly the right point.

When he finds it, he yells, "BOOM! It's Thunder Time!"

Thunder's fist flies forward, sinking deep into Skull's battered pec, connecting in just the right place. The dominant stud releases his victim's left arm just before contact, driving forward with all his weight behind the massive punch. POW! Thunder connects with his mighty heart punch, his fist slamming into Skull's hairy pec, sending a shockwave throughout his body. Skull flies back, stumbling into the ropes, bounces off then falls face down to the mat, completely out of it.

I see Skull's feet weakly kicking up and down. Thunder circles, arms raised. He uses his boot to kick Shawn over. He plants his foot on the side of the skull-patterned mask, pushing Shawn's face the side. He rests his white boot on top then holds his arm up in victory. When he counts to ten, it's merely for show.

"Now that's some Thunder, baby! WOO! Lift your shoulder, rook! I dare you!" Skull doesn't respond, his shoulders and body flat on the canvas. Thunder being the cocky stud he is, finds Pete's handheld camera in front of him and poses with each count.

ONE! Thunder starts with the classic double bicep pose, showing off our hard work at the gym.

TWO! He drops his arms down, puts his hands on his hips and does a lat spread.

THREE! Thunder bounces his pecs as he does a quarter turn, for a side chest flex.

FOUR! The smooth muscle stud puts his arms behind his back for a tricep flex.

FIVE! Thunder points to his leg resting on Skull's face, as he tenses his thigh muscles.

SIX! He lifts his hands behind his head and tenses his abs.

SEVEN! Thunder puts his left arm out and curls his right arm in an archer pose.

EIGHT! Next is his most muscular pose, bending forward, arms down, hands coming together, tensing every muscle in his body.

NINE! Fittingly, the dominant beefcake strikes his victory pose, both arms straight up.

TEN! Thunder sticks out his tongue for the camera, strikes the double bicep pose again and it's done.

When Thunder's ten-count finishes, uninterrupted, he lifts his boot. With posing already done, Steve moves to the corner, letting the cameras capture Skull's moaning carcass as he finally stirs. From outside the ring, Ryan smoothly tucks two condoms and some lube in Thunder's boot as the cameras focus on the suffering Skull.

Time for the stakes to be fulfilled.

Skull Feels the Thunder

In the ring, Skull has managed to roll onto his stomach. He struggles to rise, but Thunder's boot on the middle of his back keeps that from happening. Shawn knows the price of losing a second fall, so he relaxes, waiting for instructions. With his victim compliant, Thunder lifts his boot and circles.

Framed by the black jock, Shawn's ass is right there, ripe for the taking, but Thunder has some humiliation to dish out first. He stands with feet on either side of Skull's head, toes almost touching his shoulders.

"On your knees!"

Skull obediently rises to his knees, facing his conqueror. He stares at the thick bulge inside the ever-tightening trunks. Skull's already tasted what's inside once, but he knows it's time for another dose. Thunder closes the gap. He grabs Skull by the mask, pulling the loser's face into the stretched mauve trunks. He grinds his hips forward. Shawn eagerly opens his mouth, sucking on the bulge as his face is crushed against Thunder's steel rod.

"You like that, don't you, jobber boy?"

Skull moans his agreement, his will giving into Thunder's power, just as his body did. Steve lets the hairy stud work at his spandex-encased cock, both men clearly getting into the results. When Thunder pulls back, the wet spot from Skull's mouth is obvious. The dominant stud lets go of the mask, raises his hands behind his head and flexes his arms, thrusting his hips forward.

"Strip my trunks."

Skull once again follows orders without any reluctance. He reaches up sliding his hands over Thunder's embroidered name then inside the tight spandex prison. The defeated bear works the mauve trunks down, letting Thunder's thick cock spring free once again. Shawn slips the gear down and Steve steps out of them. Using his boot, Thunder deftly flips his trunks up into his left hand. He grabs behind Skull's mask again then shoves his moist trunks into Skull's mouth.

With the loser gagged, Thunder tightens his grip on the mask. He roughly pulls Skull forward, forcing him to hands and knees. The smooth muscle stud kneels in behind Skull, reaching up between his legs. He grabs Skull's jock-covered pouch. He squeezes and shakes it, causing Skull to grunt then moan in pain. When he fidgets, Thunder uses the opportunity to spank Shawn hard across the ass.

Thunder moves in tight. He doesn't bother stripping Skull of his jock, since he has access to everything he needs. Steve pulls out one of the condoms from his boot and slides it on, over his thick cock. He lubes up Shawn's waiting ass, taking his time, making the defeated hairy stud kneel there in anticipation.

Skull grunts as Thunder forces his dick inside his hole. I see Shawn close his eyes and bite his bottom lip, trying to relax. Thunder's cock isn't long, but he is thick. The hairy bottom takes it like a pro, as Thunder slides in all the way, pressing his hips against Skull's smooth ass. With his hands secure on Shawn's hips, Steve starts pumping, pounding the loser's hole with vigor. Shawn's moaning loudly now, but in pleasure, not pain.

Thunder's rhythmic thrusts start accelerating. Skull is really grunting now. I can see his black jock stretched to the limits. I see Skull's hand lift up, heading for his jock, but he's forced to plant it back down or topple forward from the force of Thunder's hard pounding.

Both men are grunting loudly, as Thunder is hammering Skull's ass with full force now. The smooth dominant stud withdraws, tears the condom off and stands up. He fires a massive load down onto Skull's back, coating it. White hot cum reaches Skull's black mask, with ropes streaming up and down the loser's spine. When Thunder's done, he bends over, reaches between Skull's legs then wipes his cum-coated hand on the front Skull's tenting jock. He stands and lifts his arms in victory again.

The victorious Thunder moves beside the still kneeling Skull. The hairy man in black has brought his hand to his jock, massaging his pouch to get off. When Thunder sees this, he stomps Skull's side, toppling him over. He delivers another three stomps, leaving a welt on the right side of Skull's torso.

"Hands off, rookie! You don't deserve to cum!"

Skull releases his cock, leaving it trapped in the black jock. He lies there, his cum-covered back on the mat as Thunder poses again. The winner grabs his trunks and Skull's before hopping out of the ring, moving to the locker room.

After the Match

I help Shawn out of the ring. He never did go back to jerking himself, but his cock's still semi-hard. Thunder’s punishment of his body is obvious, but if he’s sore, I can’t tell from his attitude. It’s not easy to lose, especially when it means being fucked, literally, in the middle of the ring, but Shawn seems to be taking it in stride. He's smiling, the bruises not diminishing his spirit one bit. He's actually really excited to see what the match all looks like on film. When Ryan comes over, Shawn is stretching. The loser asks Ryan how he did. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he just won the match from his happy attitude.

Ryan congratulates him on a great match. He immediately pushes for Shawn to film another one. To my surprise, Shawn doesn't hesitate to agree. We book him for two matches next week without even knowing if we have any opponents yet. If worst comes to worst, he can face The Bat coming out of retirement. Or maybe even the Pink Punk. I could handle jobbing for Skull.

Shawn asks if it’s okay if he pounds one out in the shower, as he’s super horny and didn't get to cum. I think about everything that’s happened in that communal shower room over the years and tell him to knock himself out. Of course, I want to follow and it seems like Shawn wants me to, as well, but we're staging two more matches today, so the show must go on. As a newly serious business dude, I reluctantly leave him to get cleaned up on his own. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Ryan and I go turn back to the ring area. "Well, Cody, congratulations. He was great, even if you had to spend every waking minute with him for the past three weeks to get him there. You know you can't do that with every guy, right?"

I'm a little embarrassed that Ryan knows how much time I invested in Shawn, but I decide to accept the compliment and be honest. "Thanks, buddy. Yes, I spent way too much time with him. Yes, I know this was a one-time thing. I have to admit, I worked this hard, not because it was Shawn, but because my recruits are not going to be disasters. I really want to be more than a handsome face and hot body around here."

Ryan nods then mocks my ability to bring up my looks in any conversation. More importantly, he tells me he appreciates my new attitude. I know he's glad to see me taking this seriously and living up to my promise to help out. He puts his arm over my shoulder and leans in close. He whispers, “You know, we’ve got a break before the next guys show. I can handle the downloading. If you want to, you know, check on Shawn, make sure he’s doing okay, you can. Just be back in twenty minutes to clean up the ring.”

I hesitate for a second, trying to be responsible, but at Ryan’s urging, I race down the hall, calling out to Shawn and planning to make the most of the next twenty minutes.

The End