Route 69: Bad Boys S105

"HEY! Get the fuck out of here!"

Yeah, that's meant for me. Name's Lou. I'm a pro wrestling promoter and manager here in the Chicagoland area. I'm talking to a guy I'm trying to recruit, schmoozing him hard. Thing is, I'm trying to recruit him while I'm at another federation's facility.

The guy who runs it, Mason, ain't too happy to see me. We've had some run-ins before. He thinks I'm a lying sleazebag. I think he's a self-righteous putz. We're both right.

Mason, the self-righteous putz

Mason's hopping outta the ring where he was running moves. He's still yelling at me, "What did I tell you about coming here, Lou? Get the fuck out of my gym before I throw you out!"



Normally, I'd go peacefully, but I see guys staring, including a few I wouldn't mind poaching. My shit ain't going so good right now. I ran my business for over a decade in New Jersey before things dried up. Here in Chicago, it's only been three years and word's starting to get around that maybe you gotta be careful with me.

I'm noticing it's getting tougher to recruit new talent and get young guys to give me money and sign contracts with me. Fucking social media.

Anyway, I need to find some new guys fast and, fuck, I gotta do right by them. I gotta pay them instead of them paying me and really try to help them. It sucks, but I need some guys who can actually wrestle and might make it, otherwise I won't be able to keep scamming money out of the idiots and losers with a dream.

Mason's got an eye for talent, so it's only natural I'd poach from him. I normally wouldn't be this direct, but you gotta do what you gotta do. And a fight with Mason is exactly what I gotta do. I move into Mason, bumping chests. We both wrestled pro before we got into promoting, so I know how this'll go down if I push it. And I'm pushing it.

Mason's in his mid-30's, but he looks younger, with a clean cut face like a Midwestern farm boy. He's white, brown hair, honest-looking, and kinda goofy with big ears. He's got a decent body, though. He's 6'1"/210-lbs with thick arms and torso. He's got pro boots on, with black gym shorts hanging low. I can see some red wrestling trunks peeking out at the waistband.

I'm a little older, ahem, like a decade older, but I'm still in decent shape. I'm big, 6'/245-lbs. When you do what I do, you gotta stay strong and be able to handle yourself. Physically, I'm practically his opposite. I got darker olive skin and black hair, except for the grey. His body is smooth, mine's hairy. I'm just beefier and thicker all over. He's a boy, I'm a man.

Mason pushes into me, not giving me an inch. He says, "You going to go out on your feet or your ass? Because one way or the other, I'm throwing you outta here."

I tell him, "Yeah? I'd love to see you try. Are you scared these guys are gonna hear from someone else? That they're gonna see the truth about YOU?"

Mason doesn't like that. He's gets physical, grabbing my shirt, "You're a fucking crook. I'm not going to let you steal from my guys and lock them into one of your fucking dirty contracts."

I snarl, "And what're you gonna do for them? You're a jobber. You're training these guys to be jobbers on the local circuit. I train champions. I get guys on TV. Big national federations. Like my boy Jeff Case, a guy I trained from when he was 16. He got a gig working for the AWL. Or Kyle White over in ROW. One of mine. And that's just recent guys. Any of your guys ever make it that big? What've you ever done for anyone?"

Mason can't say shit back to me. The jobber just tries moving me. Thanks to my name-dropping, I notice a few of these guys are real interested in what I got to say. My boy Logan has the iPad, showing a few of the better prospects pics of me with Jeff and Kyle, proving I trained 'em.

Instead of backing down, I hold my ground. Instead of letting Mason lead me out, I twist, grabbing him in a headlock.

"What you gonna do now, jobber?" Mason struggles, but I'm damn strong. I look at my boy Logan, "Get my stuff outta the car."

Mason hammers my back with his forearm and pushes free. I turn around, smirking while he looks fucking pissed. He comes at me to lock up. Stupid putz. I'm ready for him with a knee, low to the gut. When he bends forward, I lift my knee up into his gut again then drive my elbows down into his back. He drops to a knee, so I grab hold of his hair and drag him to his feet.

I grip the back of his shorts and trunks he's wearing under them. I drag him towards the ring. He fights to get loose from my grip. I let go of the shorts, but keep hold on the waistband of the trunks. When he tries to scramble away, I wedgie his trunks. He squeals when his junk gets crushed and walks away funny. Guys laugh.

I tell Mason, "Not a good sign when your boys laugh at you, jobber. Now what're you gonna do?"

Mason reaches into his shorts, fixing his trunks and swearing at me. Yeah, it's a schoolyard bully thing to do, but that's what I am. You think these muscleheads wanna be with a nice guy like him or a bully like me? I'm betting they want to work with a tough motherfucker with a proven track record.

The guy isn't a total wimp. He kicks out, hitting me square on the gut. OOF! I force myself to pretend like it was nothing, which ain't easy. Mason's face is red, he's so fucking pissed. We stare each other down. We both know where this is going. The ring. It's gone too far to end any other way. One of us has gotta prove he's the man.

Mason orders his guys to get back to work. They spread out, but keep watching. Logan comes jogging back with my shit.

I move in close, whispering, "Before I get changed, you know how I roll?"

Mason whispers back, "I've heard." Good, the straight boy knows I fuck the loser when I win.

I give him a chance to get out of this, "Back down, jobber. We do this, we do it my way, all the way. You really want that? Here, in front of your guys?"

Mason's too stupid and too proud to do what's smart. He says, "Fuck you. I'll take my chances, you dirty piece of shit."

"Okay, I wanna be real clear. You know how I roll. Last chance."

"Shut up and bring it on." Mason rolls into the ring, stripping off his shorts to show off his red trunks with a hammer logo in front. Funny. We'll see who the real hammer is.

The Show

I go slow, unbuttoning my shirt and letting Mason stew. I start talking up a couple of the studs I want, making nice while I get changed. The jobber tells me to hurry it up. I just smirk. The madder he is, the better it is for me. I don't even move to the locker room. Instead, I strip down naked, right there in the arena, letting the boys know I'm all-man.

Me, Lou

When I pull on my black trunks, pads and boots, I know I look damn scary. Compare a hairy, beefy beast like me to a smooth prettyboy like Mason and there's no contest. I roll into the ring and rise up. Mason is pacing across the ring, waiting for me like a little bitch. I'm in control and everyone, except him, knows it.

This loser just doesn't get it. This isn't about winning or losing some pissing contest. It's about the show. I could lose and a lot of the guys here would still want to work with me. I'm already winning and we haven't even locked up.

The Match

I circle the ring, letting every guy check me out. Mason moves in for a lock up. I meet him and immediately charge forward with everything I got. The jobber can't handle my bulk. I drive him into the corner hard. CLANG! I crush my body on top of his, flattening him. As I lean into him, I push his arms behind the ropes.

Mason struggles until I ram my knee up between his legs. CRUNCH! He squeals from the low blow, cursing me. I step back and bitchslap him across the face. WHACK! His head whips to the side and he sags, so I move in with an elbow to his temple. CRACK! The jobber shakes his head, already stunned.

I chop across the muscle jobber's chest hard. WHACK! I do it two more times. WHACK! WHACK! Red slashes mark his chest, branding the stud as mine. I grab his wrist then whip him across the ring. CLANG! I follow in behind him with a big splash, using all my hairy bulk to crush the jobber like a bug. He coughs and hangs on the ropes while I step back, lift my arms and show off for the guys.

When I turn back, Mason charges at me. He tackles me to the canvas with a stiff spear. OOF! The jobber leaps up then starts stomping me. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! I roll to the side, but he gets my wrist. He folds it up my back in a chicken wing then grabs the back of my black trunks. I get dragged up to my feet by my trunks and wrist.

Mason whips me into the corner, shoulder first. CLANG! He leaps up and does a drop kick into my other shoulder. WHOMP! I drop to a knee in the corner, rubbing my shoulder. He gets up fast, moving in right away. I hear his boys cheering him on. I dive at him, launching my 245-lbs of beef into him. There's nothing he can do to stop my shoulder block.

We land beside each other, rolling to opposite sides of the ring. We get to our feet then circle. I keep a cocky smirk on my face, reminding myself it's all about the show. We move in to lock up. I push through the collar-and-elbow lock up, grabbing Mason in a bearhug. I lift and spin, taking him down with a hard belly-to-belly suplex. WHAM! The jobber grunts as I lie on top of him.

I push off him then grab his hair. I start to drag him up, but from his knees, he tries a gut punch. POW! I shrug it off then club him on the shoulder. THUD! I drive my thigh into his face. WHACK! I shove his head between my legs, grab around his waist then pull him to his feet. I go to lift him for a piledriver, but he squats and flips me over with a back body drop. WHAM!

Mason turns then stomps my chest. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! I turn away, but he grabs my arm. The muscleman drops his knee into my side and slaps on an armbar. He really cranks it and I let out a moan. Fuck. He works it hard, even driving a couple of fists into my armpit. I push back, managing to get to my knees.

As I'm working my way up, Mason lifts my arm then snaps it down. ARGH! He does it twice more and my shoulder is aching. I push up to my feet, only to get flipped back to the mat by an arm drag takedown. WHAM! The muscle jobber stomps my shoulder hard. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! I roll away, smoothly getting into a crouch. The jobber ain't stupid. He hangs back, avoiding having me charge at him again.

Fuck, Mason is feeling cocky, saying, "See, that is how you isolate a body part. And see how Lou is holding his shoulder, moaning in pain? That's the kind of selling I want from you guys!"

I get to my feet. Mason is bouncing, feeling good. His guys are mouthing off at me. My boy Logan isn't even paying attention any more. He's on his fucking phone. This ain't good.

I tell them, "Yeah, I can sell anything, even your shit. Remember, guys, you gotta let even the biggest jobbers have their moment. It creates drama. It's all about the show."

Mason smirks as we move in. I wanna crush him, but I wanna be smart about it. The muscleman goes high. I move to meet him, but he shifts low at the last second. He grabs my leg, but I lean over his back and grab the back of his trunks. Before he can topple me, I pull them up for a hard wedgie. Mason lets out a high-pitched gasp.

I use his shoulder and trunks to lift him up, his bare ass hanging out. Smooth and whiter than a sheet of paper. Sweet. I drop him across my leg for a gutbuster then spank his cheeks. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I suck my thumb then lift it. I whip it down, driving it between Mason's meaty butt cheeks against his hole. POP!

Mason lifts his head and cries out. The guys let out a sympathetic cry, holding their heads at the humiliation I'm dishing out. I push the muscle jobber off my leg, jump up then come down with a big splash. SQUASH! He coughs as I sit back then slap his face hard. SLAP! The guys let out an, "OOHHHH!" I drag Mason up to his feet then dive forward with a clothesline. He goes down hard as I roll over and sit on his stomach.

I tell the guys, "Yeah, it's rough, but you gotta know how to heel like this. This is what gets my boys noticed by the big feds. Watch and learn, 'cause I know this jobber ain't taught you shit like this."

Under me, Mason is moaning and massaging his junk. I get up, dragging him with me by the hair. I scoop him up across my chest, showing off my strength. I carry him around the ring like he was nothing, my hands on his back and cupping his naked cheek.

I slam the muscle jobber to the mat hard. BOOM! He bounces then rolls onto his side, holding his back. I leap up and come down with a leg drop on his head. CRACK! I pull him up into a front facelock. Mason struggles, but I got his wedged trunks locked tight. I lift and flip him over with a killer suplex. WHAM! I roll over, planting my shin on his throat.

Under me, Mason flails, struggling to breathe. I flex, "It's all about the show, boys. Who you gonna remember? The jobber with the perfect armbar or the heel who does my kinda shit?"

I see some nodding. Good boys. I get up then stomp the jobber's pecs hard. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! He tries to get away, but I drop an elbow to the back of his head. I push him onto his stomach then roll onto his back. I press his face into the canvas, wiping the vinyl with his handsome features. "Yeah, that's right, jobber, kiss the mat!"

Mason shakes his head free, but I pull him into a camel clutch before he can do anything. I lean back, really punishing the hot stud. He's crying out. I lift one hand and flex my left bicep. All about the show. I force my fingers into the sides of his mouth and stretch them as I keep the hold on tight.

The muscle jobber ain't giving, but who gives a shit? I just wanna humiliate his sorry ass. I grab his big ears and use them to pull his head back. The guys laugh, starting to come around to my way of working. I release Mason from the camel. I kick him onto his back then sit down with my shins on his shoulders and my balls on his chin.

I smack Mason's head, taunting him to fight back. He squirms under me, but he can't shift me. I rise up then drop down, driving my ass into his chest. He gasps, coughing as my 245-lbs crushes his pecs and ribs. I get up then drag him to his feet.

I lift the muscle jobber into a bearhug, one of my specialties. I get his feet up off the ground and squeeze tight. He's moaning real loud now, his cries echoing in the arena. I bounce him, making sure his back really suffers. I've done a ton of damage already, so you know he's gotta be dying up there.

I work it, spinning him so his bare ass faces his crew while I destroy him in front of them. Wait until they see me fuck him. Yeah, this bitch is gonna be done. Mason is going limp in my arms, I'm feeling his dead weight hanging down. I adjust, but he was playing a little possum, the fucker. He clocks me across the temple. CRACK!

I lose the power behind my bearhug, shaking out my head. The muscle jobber clocks me again. CRACK! I let him go completely. Mason drops down in front of me. He rests on one knee, but I can't do shit. I'm too busy shaking cobwebs outta my head. Next thing I know, I feel his shoulder bury into my stomach. OOF! I'm pushed backwards in the spear, unable to stop us from moving.

Mason drives me into the corner. CLANG! Fuck! He drives his shoulder into my gut. THUD! THUD! THUD! I bend forward. My abs ain't what they used to be. The jobber kneels on one knee in front of me, getting his second wind. I know I gotta put an end to this rally. I club my arm down, but he blocks it with his forearm.

I put my hand out as he starts to rise. I move into him, turning my big body to shield us as I rake my hand over his eyes. He cries out, but no one gets why. I throw Mason onto his stomach then splash down on him again. SPLASH! He moans. The muscleman shakes his head, trying to get his vision back.

After I rise, I grab his ankles and lift him up into a Boston crab. I sit back and he moans. I bounce a little, really working his back. The muscle jobber fights me, but I keep him locked up tight. It's a battle of power and will, with me on top. Mason won't give, so I drop his legs, letting him out.

Mason squirms on the canvas, holding his back. He crawls up to his hands and knees. When I get close, he tries a surprise donkey kick, but I'm ready. I dodge the kick, coming around with a shin across the side of his head. CRACK! The muscle jobber drops like a sack of potatoes while I put my boot on his back and flex.

The guys are hooting and hollering, loving this fight. Good. Even Logan is paying attention again. I grab Mason and scoop him up for another body slam. WHAM! I do two more, knowing his back has to be wrecked by this point. WHAM! WHAM! The jobber just lies at my feet, rolling back and forth and groaning.

I pull Mason up and lift him across my shoulders in a torture rack. The muscle jobber moans, trying to escape, but I got him locked in tight. I parade him around the ring for a minute then drop him down hard. Mason's tough, I'll give him that. Even with all the punishment and all my dirty shit, he's fighting to get back to his feet.

Yeah, that ain't happening.

I pull him up then put my hand on his throat. Mason starts to struggle as I grab the back of his wedged trunks. I lift then dive forward with a strong chokeslam. WHAM! I shake my head then pull Mason's limp carcass up by his hair and wrist. I shove his head down between my legs. He tries for a back body drop, but his back can't get it done.

With his head trapped, I jump up and slam his face into the mat. CRACK! Mason goes limp. I kneel there, with his head trapped between my thighs, his unmoving carcass stretched out. I flex my biceps, reminding the guys that you gotta be a showman to get ahead.

"It used to be you could either be a clean cut face that people love or a son of a bitch that people hate. Nowadays, everyone's gotta be a son of a bitch, even the good guys. Any of you guys know how to be a real son of a bitch?"

The guys look like they're confused. Perfect. I spread my legs and move away from their unconscious boss. I don't say anything. I just let them think things over. I can see their minds thinking, "Yeah, which guy do I wanna be? Which guy do I respect right now?"

I move on top of Mason, sitting on his back. Fuck his ass looks awesome. I wanna fuck him so bad right now, but I hesitate. He starts to move just as I figure out my plan. I drag him up and move him to the corner. I take a seat on the top turnbuckle, keeping the groggy muscle jobber steady. I pull him between my knees, his back towards me.

I lock on a sleeper real tight. He wakes up enough to realize what's happening. He can see all his boys watching us. With my arms around his neck just right, I got the muscle jobber in big trouble and he knows it. He's holding my forearms and trying to adjust for position. Yeah, he's a jobber, but he might think of something, so I gotta work fast.

I whisper in his ear, "I beat your ass, boy. It's mine. I can take you, right here, in front of all your boys." Mason squirms. Good, he's afraid. "But, I'll offer you a deal. I can put you out then fuck you now or you can come to my motel - Shady Oaks, room 12 - and we finish there, in private. 9:00pm. You got three seconds to decide."

Mason shifts, but I tighten and he stops fighting. He whispers, "Okay. Motel."

"Good boy. Now, in exchange for me being so nice, you gotta give me two of your best."

The jobber has no choice, "Okay."

"Smartest decision you've made today. See ya tonight, boy."

I tighten the sleeper. Mason is surprised that I'm not just letting him up, misunderstanding our bargain. Just like I wanted him to. He fights, but it's way too late for that. The jobber goes out fast. I let him drop like a sack of potatoes then hope down and pose over him.

I move to the ropes, "So who wants to be a fucking son of a bitch?"

Back at the Motel

The knock comes at 9:00pm sharp. I check myself out. I look damn good, naked except for a towel. I open the door. It's Mason, just like I knew it'd be. He's shirtless in shorts. I admire his smooth beef in a new way, now that he's my bitch. Damn, he's kinda cute. Older than I like my boys, but he'll do.

"Right on time, boy. I like a punctual jobber. Shows respect."

Mason storms in. He says, "Let's get just this over with."

I close the door behind him, "Have it your way. Strip down, jobber. Naked and on your knees."

Mason looks over and sees Logan relaxing on the mattress. I put it on the floor, so that ... well, you'll see. My boy is buck naked and mindlessly playing with his huge cock in one hand and his iPhone in the other. Typical punk kid. His smooth, lean-muscled body looks flawless. I figure the fact that Mason doesn't just jump him confirms the muscleman is straight.

The hick promoter stops. I can tell he's about to question Logan's presence, but I'm not taking any shit. I grab Mason by the back of his neck, "He's with me. Now, we gonna have a problem?"

The smooth stud pauses then does what he's told. He knew the deal. I kinda wanted to fuck him in front of his boys, but I figured that'd actually turn some of them off. So I waited. Good thing is, Mason doesn't know why I'm keeping this private. He thinks I did him a favor, doing it here. He thinks he owes me. You never wanna owe me, because I'll always collect. In spades.

Them's the breaks. Honest guys like him always lose out in the end. He looks damn good, kneeling in front of me, no clothes. His dick is hanging limp. I guess he ain't into this. My towel's tenting. I am into this. So is Logan, who's on his side, watching now, working his big meat as he watches me dominate this jobber.

I ask, "Now, which boys you gonna give me?"

"I don't own my wrestlers. I'm not like you."

"No, you're not like me. That's why your on you fucking knees, getting ready to suck a real man's dick then get fucked. Now, I'm not gonna ask again. Don't make me get rough with you, boy."

Mason sighs, "All right. I can encourage a couple of guys to work with you, but no promises. Which ones do you want? Haynes? Delvecchio?

"Naw, I got those studs already. They agreed to join me while you were sleeping in the ring." I love the shocked look on his face. I tell him, "Gimme Treviso and Garcia."

Mason looks pissed. It's his four best studs and now they're all working for me. It leaves him with mostly garbage, but what can he do? I coulda fucked him in the ring and he'd have lost all his guys. He knows it, so he agrees. Now that our business is done, I peel the towel off and twist it up. I put it over his shoulders then use it to pull him into me. He opens his pretty mouth and takes my thick cock.

As soon as he starts, I know it's not his first time. Oh shit, this boy ain't all the way straight after all. I tell him, "Shit, looks like the jobber is on the down low. Yeah, you know how to treat a man, don't ya, jobber?"

Mason's mouth is too full for him to answer, but I know it's true. This changes shit. Fucking a straight boy is hot as a scene, but it's usually lousy as sex. Yeah, the first time can be rough, but if this guy ain't a virgin? Damn, I just got an invite to really wreck this jobber bitch and I'm accepting. I look over at Logan, who's suddenly real interested in what's going on. I lift my eyebrow at him and he nods back, excitedly. Yeah, Mason's night just got a lot longer.

As my boy starts stretching out, I focus back on the jobber. I pull my cock free then order, "Tell me about you being a fucking cocksucker."

Mason says, "I'm straight, you fucker."

I bitchslap him. SMACK! I tell him, "Don't lie to me, boy. I can tell you've sucked cock. What else you done? I'll know if you're lying."

Mason admits, "Fuck, okay. Yeah, I've been around, stakes and shit. I've sucked, topped and even bottomed a couple of times." I finally get why he wasn't fazed by my stakes. The muscleman says, "But it was nothing like this sick scene of yours. Just a little fun between buddies."

"Yeah? I like fun. And I'm your new buddy. It's your lucky night."

I smack Mason's face with my dick. He makes like he just sucked a lemon, scrunching it up. Nice, still reacting like a straight boy. I tell him to stick out his tongue. I slap my hard cock on it then shove my meat inside his mouth again. The muscleman works me right, but this is just the start.

I grab Mason the force him to his feet. I throw him onto the table. He goes down hard, chest first, ass up and out. I grab his hips as he squirms. I'm hard as a fucking rock, so I ram my cock in, fast, hard and dry. Mason screams in pain as I split him in two. Okay, he might not be a virgin, but he's not experienced, that's for sure. I coach him on taking a cock, pressing him onto the table hard.

I hold my cock inside him until he finally shuts the fuck up. Yeah, it's painful and cruel, but I want him to remember this. It's not a play date. This is a domination fuck and he needs to get it. He's my bitch. It'll make it easier when I come back demanding shit from him. And I will. This muscle jobber doesn't get it, yet, but i own him and his federation now.

When I pull out, Mason tries to rise, but I push him back down. I'm like, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you think this shit is over? You think I'm a 10-second fuck? I'll tell you when I'm done."

Logan tosses me lube and I drizzle it on my cock, working it all over. Now that I'm lubed, I drive into his ass again. It's a little easier. I start thrusting, driving my cock in deep. Mason just lies there and takes it like the jobber bitch he is. I ride him good and hard, stretching out his hole. I keep going for a long time, enjoying his little whimpers as I prove who the real man is.

I feel my load building. Shit, I wanted to make this last, but I'll seed the bitch now before I lose it. I push down on his back as I explode inside him, filling his ass with my seed. Fuck, it's a good load. My whole body shakes, "Take it, jobber! Oh yeah, take my cum!"

I keep pumping until I'm soft and drained. Mason squirms a little on the table while I fill him up, but I gotta say that he takes it all like a good boy. I pull out then grab a towel to clean my cock. I let the jobber think it's over, but Logan and me exchange another look and I know it's not.

You're Not Done

Mason goes to grab his shorts. I grab him by the neck then throw his naked ass onto the mattress with my boy Logan. I tell the jobber that he's gonna get another chance. He gets to wrestle with the 19-year old rookie in a stakes match. It's a chance to get his pride back.

My boy, Logan

The jobber protests, jumping to his feet and moving to leave. A fist to the gut puts him back on his knees. I toss him back onto the mattress where the twink is waiting like a hungry lion. He jumps on Mason's back and slaps on a sleeper. The bigger muscleman doesn't even get that he's in a fight until he's nearly unconscious.

When Mason starts to finally get what's going on, he struggles, twisting to avoid being put out. I grab my phone to make sure the two GoPro cameras I got focused on the mattress are getting this. Twink teen wrestler dominating beefy muscle jobber in a naked hotel match. Beautiful and it'll work to keep both of them in line.

The twink loses the sleeper, but it works pretty good. Mason is wobbly as he stands up, hand on his temple and shaking out the cobwebs. He stays on the mattress, not wanting to come too close to me. He points at me, saying this wasn't part of the deal. I just smile and shrug, "All you gotta do is win against a skinny teenager, tough guy."

Mason wants to keep jawing with me, forgetting about the guy behind him. Stupid fucker. Logan shows the results of my training. He comes in behind Mason and slams his arm up between his legs. SQUISH! The big old jobber drops to his knees, holding his junk. Logan grabs him by the hair and pulls him back.

My boy ties the stupid putz up fast in a dragon sleeper then caresses his meaty torso. The bigger stud moans and groans, helplessly suffering as he's molested and brought near unconsciousness again. Logan reaches down, smacking the straight muscle jobber's junk, humiliating him.

I mock the older wrestler, "Shit, Mason, it's like you don't even wanna win. If you wanna be fucked that bad, just give."

I hear a growl then Mason powers out. He spins then dives onto the leaner stud. The jobber shows some fight, mounting my boy, pinning his wrists down. The big jobber tells my boy to stop. He tries to sound intimidating, but he's red-faced and woozy, so ain't nobody scared by that shit.

In response, Logan yanks his right hand free. He chops Mason's neck to distract him then throws an elbow up that clips Mason across the jaw. CHOP! CRACK! Yeah, keep him from being able to focus, boy. The twink grabs the musclestud by the cock. ARGH! A squeeze, pull and twist is all it takes to get control back. I love how Logan's taken to being a heel.

The beefy hunk cries out and collapses off my boy. Logan moves in, but Mason's strong. They roll around, fighting for position. Mason overpowers the leaner teen stud, but the kid is slippery. He twists and slides free. The flexible twink uses dirty tactics when he needs to, but for the most part, he holds his own pretty good. I'm impressed, as he's become a legit wrestler.

Both guys are sweating, but Mason's really winded and unable to focus. The guy has never wrestled on a mattress, obviously, because he keeps fumbling and stumbling on the small, unstable surface. Me and Logan have done nothing but wrestle and fuck on mattresses for weeks. He gets it, the jobber doesn't.

The jobber gets the teen heel into a body scissors. Logan moans as he's crushed. His cock is getting hard as he's punished by the older muscleman. Fuck Logan, don't get all horny submissive on me now. Mason grabs the twink's long hair and tells him to just give. Logan refuses, holding on.

Mason releases the hold then rises. He uses Logan's hair to drag him up to his knees, but that's as far as it goes. The twink is ready. He dives into the muscleman, who topples backwards off the mattress into the wall. THUD! The teen heel grabs behind the muscle jobber's legs and pulls hard and fast. Mason falls onto his ass on the hard carpeted floor. PLOP! Pain shoots up his spine.

Logan drags Mason back onto the mattress by his ankles then drops with a head butt to the muscleman's crotch. SQUISH! Mason curses then holds his junk as he rolls onto his side. The twink locks on a figure four head scissors. The muscle jobber struggles, suddenly forgetting about his aching crotch.

Mason is rolled onto his back as he fights the hold. All his weight and strength advantage is useless now. I watch him writhe and squirm, his junk flip flopping around like a fish outta water. Hot. Logan smacks the jobber's red face, taunting him. The teen heel's monster cock grows, stretching out onto the helpless Mason's head.

Logan keeps the hold going. He could put Mason out, but I can tell he's loving this shit. The jobber finally manages to break free. He rolls off the mattress, holding his head. The muscleman looks wobbly. My boy sees it, too. He moves in low, sweeping the older guy's knee. Mason topples like a redwood, right into the wall, head first. CRACK! The beefy stud drops to a knee, dazed and confused.

With the big man stunned, Logan moves in behind. He reaches between Mason's legs and grabs hold of the low-hanging balls. The jobber squeals as he's forced to his feet by the claw. The teen heel pushes him face first into the wall. From his knees, Logan is perfectly positioned to force his finger inside the tight hole.

The teen heel laughs, "Fuck, that's tight. I didn't really want anything to do with a used up old jobber like you, but what a fucking smooth ass. It's pretty hot."

Mason can only whimper into the wall as he's manhandled by the teen heel, his manhood wrapped up in Logan's tight grip. My boy pulls his finger out and releases the hold on Mason's balls. He rises and spins the jobber around. Before the twink can do shit, the muscleman shows some life. He pushes Logan onto his back.

Logan lands on the mattress, bouncing slightly. Mason moves in, but runs right into a foot to his crotch. CRUNCH! URK! The jobber drops to his knees in front of a lying down Logan. From his back, Logan drags the kneeling Mason to all fours. He gets his legs into position as he pulls Mason's right arm forward.

Mason doesn't know what's happening and can't react fast enough. The twink wrestler applies a perfect triangle choke, locking it in tight. The MMA move is perfect for submitting big old jobbers. Mason struggles, but he can't do shit. He taps fast, admitting defeat.

When Logan lets him go, Mason falls onto his back. He holds his throat, massaging it. The muscle jobber is red from his pecs to his forehead. He reaches down and fluffs his balls and cock, wincing a little.

Logan just sits there, looking over the muscleman he just humiliated. His cock is bobbing as he watches Mason lie there. The teen heel rolls around then pushes a compliant Mason onto his stomach. He climbs onto the jobber and applies a camel clutch. The jobber doesn't even fight it until it's way too late.

The room is filled by muscle jobber moans as he's pulled back. Mason cries out his second submission. Fast this time, but I think he just wants this to be over. He knows he's gonna lose and get fucked, so I figure he's done fighting the inevitable.

Logan drops Mason, but he looks pissed as he sits on his ass. "I could submit you a thousand times and it wouldn't mean shit. Giving isn't enough. I want you to admit you're my bitch!"

Mason moans, "Fuck you, kid. You're nothing but a dirty cheater. You wouldn't last two seconds against me in a real fight."

The teen heel goes red as he sits on his victim. He clubs Mason in the back of the head to stun him. Logan grabs Mason's wrists, lifts then wraps his legs around the muscle jobber's arms. The bigger stud ain't going anywhere. Logan pushes forward. The move punishes the shoulders, but it's even better than that. The teen has his legs folded on the back of the jobber's head.

Mason struggles as his face is pushed down into the soft mattress. He tries to turn his head, but he can't with the force of Logan's legs and the way his arms are being pushed forward. I sit up, checking this out. The bigger wrestler is being smothered in the mattress. Oh fuck, this is hot. Mason's legs kick frantically and his beautiful ass jiggles as he's tortured.

Oh shit, Logan is gonna break the bigger stud. He grabs hold of Mason's hair and opens his legs. The dominant teen uses his grip to pull the struggling muscleman's face up, allowing him to breathe properly again. Mason coughs and gasps for air. Fuck, the twink is becoming a sadistic motherfucker. I love it.

Logan commands, "Admit you're my bitch and call me 'master', you pathetic old jobber!"

Mason is red-faced and breathing hard, but he's still got a little pride left, "No! Go to hell, you little punk!"

The twink stud forces the jobber's face back into the mattress. When Logan pulls him up again, Mason's attitude has changed. He starts begging for him to stop, "Fucking stop it! I can't breathe! You're gonna suffocate me!"

My boy says, "What a fucking whiner." Still, he lets Mason go. The naked teen moves around then locks on a sleeper. The jobber struggles, but he's so tired that even Logan's weight on his back is too much. Mason ain't going out, though. I gotta smile when I figure out that Logan is actually edging him on the brink of consciousness.

Logan works the sleeper tight then loose, just like I taught him. He likes to jerk off while I do that to him. Mason ain't jerking off to it, though. When the muscleman goes weak, the twink lets up then closes in again. Fuck, he's a cruel little brat. I'm so proud.

With Mason half-conscious, Logan lets go and rolls musclestud onto his back. The handsome jobber can't do shit as the twink stands over him. The leaner stud grabs Mason's right leg. He drags him closer to the mattress edge. The twink plants his feet on the grungy carpet, leaving the jobber's body on the mattress. Once he's in position, Logan steps over, flipping Mason into a single leg crab.

The jobber cries out as Logan sits back. My boy has great balance, standing on the floor, while Mason can't do shit. He's so out of it and the mattress is too unstable. When Logan adds a ball claw, it's all she wrote for the beefy musclestud.

"UNH! Stop! Please!"

Logan orders, "Call me 'master'! Admit you're my bitch!"

Mason whimpers in the hold, resisting, but he's done. Good thing about jobber's is that they suffer and hold out, but they have an innate sense for the right time to submit.

"Argh! My back! My balls! Okay! Okay! I'm your bitch! Master! Master! Master! FUCK!"

Logan releases the ball claw and crab, letting Mason collapse. He just lies there, not moving on the mattress. The jobber's legs are hanging off it, propping his ass up. Logan smiles at the smooth white mounds. He marvels, "Fuck, that's a big beautiful bubble butt."

I chime in, "And it's all yours, boy. But first, what do you say?"

Logan turns, sarcastically saying, "Thank you for the present, Daddy Lou."

I sit back and get ready for the show. If Mason thought I was a rough fuck, wait until he feels Logan's monster cock. I lean back with a beer in one hand, my cock in the other.

Stakes Again

It takes a while, but Mason finally moves. He doesn't resist or fight, knowing he's got no choice. Both of us kicked his ass and that was when he was in better shape than he is now. The jobber kneels in front of my boy, sucking my boy's big dick. What a fucking loser.

I tell him, "Look at that, Mason, you're less than a 19-year old rookie. You're really nothing. Just a bottom of barrel cocksucker."

Mason's got pride. He pulls off to say something at me, but Logan's not having it. My boy has been with me long enough to know how to deal with a reluctant bitch. He forces Mason back onto his monster cock then rams it deep until the older beefcake gags. The babyface promoter struggles. He could barely handle me, but Logan is a big boy, blessed with length and girth.

Logan face fucks the older stud until Mason knows his place. When the jobber's shoulders sag and he's completely limp and obedient, that's when my twink apprentice pulls out. He forces the defeated slab of beef to his left, lying him on the box spring, ass up and out. He lubes the hole up good, mocking the promoter as he finger fucks him.

I'm so proud how my boy trash talks him. Really raunchy shit. No wonder the loser's cock has shrunk. Logan puts the head of his cock at Mason's ass. He slides in slowly, but the jobber still moans in pain. He starts begging for my boy to stop, saying how he can't take it. The twink ignores him. I trained my boy right.

Mason is clutching a pillow so hard, his knuckles are white. He's biting on the pillow and burying his face, muffling his voice. The jobber alternates between whimpers and grunts as hangs on for dear life. Logan tells him, "Oh shut the fuck up! I'm already almost halfway in."

Mason's head pops up with eyes wide at that and he starts shaking his head. He says, "No, no. No. Oh god. You've gotta stop! Please! Oh fuuuuuuuck! Please! Stop! ARGH! I can't take it!"

Logan stops. He starts gently pumping without going any deeper as he opens the secret bottom boy up. Mason is still whining into the pillow. What a little bitch. He finally settles down and my apprentice has worked in some more. The twink keeps going, riding the supposed-straight stud like a champ.

I gotta admire how cold he's becoming. It's happening even faster than it was with my last boy, Kyle. Most guys wouldn't keep going when a guy is begging like Mason is, but the trim twink takes his time and plows until he's all the way in.

It doesn't take long before Logan starts shaking. He fires his load inside Mason, adding his cum on top of mine. Damn, it's a long eruption. When he finally pulls out, cum runs out and down Mason's leg. Logan grabs Mason and throws him from the box spring to the mattress. The straight stud lies on in his stomach, moaning quietly.

Logan comes over and gives me a kiss. He asks how he did and I tell him he did great. We look at Mason's ruined body and smile as we caress each other.

Until Next Time

I can tell Mason is wrecked. He just lies there on his stomach, not moving. His tight ass ain't so tight any more. It still looks hot, but it must be so torn up. I loosened him up good, but even experienced bottoms gotta struggle taking Logan.

But it's worse than that for him. It's the mental side. I can tell he's shell-shocked. In one day, dude basically went from happy, straight, tough guy running a wrestling promotion to a two-time jobber and gay fuck toy. I wonder which is worse, getting beaten and fucked by a guy you hate like me? Or by a 19-year old rookie who you'd normally wipe the floor with?

One day when I'm back and blackmailing him into blowing me, I'll have to ask him. Good thing is that now I have leverage, I can use Mason's fed as my very own developmental league. He can find the boys, earns their trust then I'll come in and take 'em.

Fuck, Mason still ain't moving. Okay, time for some tough love from daddy. I tell Logan to grab Mason's clothes. I grab the jobber and throw him over my shoulder, bare ass up. My boy finds Mason's keys. He opens the door. The cold air hits our naked bodies and feels good, coming from the stuffy motel room.

Yeah, the three of us are strutting naked across a parking lot. Yeah, I'm carrying a nude guy on my shoulder. Yeah, he could be dead for all anyone knows. Good thing about the shitholes I stay in? They're don't give a fuck about anything. This probably isn't even the weirdest shit they've seen today.

Logan unlocks Mason's car. I dump him in the back seat with his clothes and keys. He starts to move as I grab fifty bucks from his wallet. Why? Because I fucking can. I slam the door, telling the jobber to get lost. I put my arm over my boy's shoulder as we walk back into the room. I ask Logan if he had fun. Of course he did. The boy has really come around to my way of operating. He's loving it, asking what's next.

I rub his hair then close the door behind me. After a blue pill, some more wrestling and a hard fuck, Logan and me settle in for the rest of the night. I get a great night's sleep. My business is turning around. My big-dicked apprentice is all-in now and working out great. And I got to dominate, humiliate and violate a sanctimonious loser that I know control.

Damn, it's good to be Lou again.

The End