CLAW 3: Koke vs. Max ‘Big Daddy’ Dickens

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CLAW Ring: Practice Time

“Hey, I'm a big fan, Mr. Dickens.”

Ignoring my buddy’s hand, the masculine hunk sneers, “Of course you are. You got the ring all set up? I like the ropes real tight and you amateur crew usually leave 'em too loose.”

Koke looks back at the ring then at me then back at Max. He says, "I'm not crew. I'm a wrestler. Name's Koke."

Max lets out a snort, "A speedo and dreams don't make you a wrestler, kid." The indie pro star flexes his biceps, "Muscles, personality and talent makes you a wrestler. You don't have the first two, so I'm betting you don't have the skills either."

I grab Koke by the shoulder and squeeze before he responds, making sure he stays calm as he's insulted by Max “Big Daddy” Dickens. My name’s Kwame. My buddy and me are pro wrestlers for the Championship League of American Wrestling or CLAW for short. We're new to the game, but we're learning fast thanks to our boss, Ben.

My buddy Koke

Max Dickens is one of the hottest stars on the indie circuit. He's a big deal, so Ben brought him in for a few shows to get us attendance and attention. The guy is a master heel, backed up by a beefy 5’11”/240-lbs of muscle that he packs into tiny trunks. Today, they're simple black. Damn, the guy is a beast that oozes sex. I love how he always leaves the strings hanging down in front, deliberately drawing attention to his big bulge, which is even more impressive up close. No wonder he goes by Big Daddy Dickens.

While the veteran pro is only 30, he feels older with a shaved bald head, furry torso and deep voice. Big Daddy is all-man, full of tough guy masculinity and god-like arrogance. It's his character, but guys told us that it's also who he is backstage. The guy’s been an asshole to our buddies. Now, he's interrupting our practice session and acting like we're unworthy. Fuck him.

Max "Big Daddy" Dickens

The veteran pro says to Koke, “Go get me a bottle of water, kid, then get lost. I don't need groupies watching me train. If you're real good, maybe I'll let you watch Daddy shower.” He grabs his meaty package and squeezes it.

Koke shrugs my hand off his shoulder. Big Daddy is disrespecting him, so he needs to be free to defend himself. Even though he's only 20-years old and, at 5’11”/180-lbs, is giving up 60-lbs to the hairy stud, I know my buddy isn't going to get pushed around. I get it. I'd be fighting if he said this shit to me. We even talked about it. Once you let yourself get bullied, you're done in this business. Word gets around and you become everyone's bitch. Another lesson from Ben.

My buddy gets right in the amused star’s face, “Get your own damn water and learn to tell fucking time. Me and Kwame have this ring for another 30 minutes.”

Dickens laughs, “Ooh, kid thinks he's tough. Okay, you stood up for yourself, rookie. Be proud, you did what little rookie bitches are supposed to do. Congrats. Now, get me some fuckin’ water then get lost -” the hairy heel adjusts his bulge, “- before I get angry. You got a sweet ass, be a real shame if Daddy had to make you cry.”

Koke puts his hands on his hips and looks at the bigger hunk with a cocky glare, “Don't wave that thing at me. This isn't BIGBeast, Dino, and I'm not some twink wannabe off the street who gets paid to lie down for you.”

I let out an ‘oooooh’ as Koke brings up Dino Donato, Dickens’ underground identity for a wrestling video company called BIGBeast. He's a big heel there, with his macho badass swagger and indie pro skills. It's hot, but not exactly a real fight, which is what Dickens is headed for if he doesn't stop insulting my buddy.

My buddy continues, "I'm a trained pro wrestler working hard to make it, just like you were once. Show me the same fucking respect you wanted.”

The hairy hunk points at Koke’s face, “Watch your mouth, boy, or this thing -” Dickens grabs his bulge, “- will fucking tear you in half then I'll use your buddy here as my fucking cum rag.”

Me. Kwame.
Don't bring me into this, dude.

Koke doesn't flinch, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, bitch. I'm a fuckin’ sex god. You don't wanna feel my wrath. Now go get me my fuckin’ water, you little piece of rookie shit.” The master heel strikes a double bicep pose and sticks out his tongue, trying to intimidate Koke.

Dickens shows off his famous body.

Instead of being scared, my buddy whips out his hand, grabbing a big handful of meat with a crotch claw. We wrestle for CLAW, but claws are also one of our boss’s specialty. He learned from the best and he's taught the secrets to a few of us for just this kind of occasion. Ben told us that when you need to even the odds, the Kaine Klaw is a powerful weapon.

The hairy hunk’s arms drop and he hunches forward. His mouth opens up as he gasps in pain. Dickens moans loudly, his face etched with pain. Koke uses the claw to force the big bad ass against the ring apron. My cock stirs as I watch my buddy confidently humiliate this hairy he-man. There might be hell to pay later, but it's awesome now.

Koke lifts his free arm and flexes it. He commands, “Look at me!” A hard twist on the claw gets Dickens to obey. The beefy badass looks up at the peaking bicep as the rookie stud turns and kisses it, taunting the veteran hunk. The master heel tries to pry the hand off his manhood, but Koke suddenly drives his fist into the side of the hairy hunk’s bald head as he releases the claw. CRACK!

Big Daddy collapses to the floor, reaching for his bulge. He swears at Koke, threatening to break him for this. My buddy grabs the bigger hunk’s head and forces him up. He slams Dickens’ head into the ring apron. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The bigger bad boy is stunned, dropping to one knee. The smooth muscleman grabs Dickens’ bald head and pulls it into his bulge.

“I hope you're ready, because I'm the only who's getting a sweet piece of ass today.”

In the Ring

I grab my phone out of my bag as Koke reaches down and grabs hold of Dickens’ trunks in the back. I start filming as he pulls up hard and fast, forcing the master heel to rise. Koke uses them to push the beefy badass into the ring for more abuse. The skimpy gear wedges up his ass, but that's probably the least of the hairy hunk's worries at this point. I'm impressed with how confident Koke is, like this match is nothing to him.

Dickens rises to hands and knees, spitting out threats, but Koke is already there. My buddy charges in, clipping the side of the hairy heel’s head with his shin. CRACK! The bigger muscleman flies sideways, rolling all the way around onto his stomach. The smooth rookie measures him up then comes down with an elbow to the back of the big man’s head. WHACK!

Koke springs to his feet then leaps up, coming down with a leg drop to the back of Big Daddy’s head, smashing his face into the mat. Dickens goes limp, the head abuse stunning him. My buddy worked it all out. Surprise him then keep him from fighting back by keeping him dazed. No wonder he's so fucking confident. You'd think Koke was wrestling a twink off the street.

My buddy rolls Dickens over onto his back. He forces the thick arms to the side then straddles his hairy body in a schoolboy pin. Koke's thick legs pin the arms against Big Daddy's body as the smaller muscleman flexes his biceps. I laugh as the smooth rookie kisses the massive peaks. SMOOCH! SMOOCH! The master heel watches, still stunned.

When Koke lowers his arms, he brings his right hand down across the master heel’s face. SMACK! The stinging slap is followed up by choke as the smooth stud wraps his hands around the bigger muscleman’s throat. GAG! Dickens wakes up, thrashing and struggling under the smooth rookie.

Koke looks down, “You going to treat me with respect? Or you want to take this all the way?”

As a response, the powerful pro heel bucks up, tossing my buddy off. He rolls onto his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering. He shakes out his head then manages to focus. Dickens says, “You are so fucking dead. I’m gonna shove my cock so far up your ass that you -“ CRACK! Before the threat can be finished, Koke lashes out with his boot to the hairy hunk’s temple.

My buddy casually says, “Oh, shut up.”

Koke rises as Big Daddy writhes on his back. From the way he’s rapidly opening and closing his eyes, it’s obvious that the master heel is unable to focus. He’s a fighter, though. The smooth muscleman unleashes a series of hard boots to the amazing hairy torso of his opponent. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Dickens bounces and flops as he’s ruthlessly punished under foot.

My cock grows hard as Koke destroys the world-class heel. He puts his boot on Big Daddy’s bicep then kneels down. The muscle rookie grabs Dickens by the cheeks, squeezes then forces the bald beast to look up at him. Koke bounces his pecs then says, “Last chance. Apologize now or I’m going to beat your ass until you beg me to fucking stop then I’m going to fuck your flat old ass until you beg me to stop. Got it?”

Dickens blurts out a garbled, “Fuck you!”

The cocky rookie smiles, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Koke grabs Big Daddy by the ears. He lifts his head then slams it back down onto the mat. WHACK! He does it three more times until the hairy hunk is almost out of it. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The smooth stud rises then stomps the bicep he was kneeling on. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Dickens pulls his arm into his body, instinctively rolling onto his side, trying to protect the big bicep from being brutalized any more.

The smooth muscle stud moves slowly, but deliberately, knowing that he’s in complete control. With Dickens barely able to think, the beefy master heel is just a wrestling dummy as long as Koke keeps the pressure on. He steps over the hairy hunk then grabs his boots. My buddy lifts the legs up, forcing the bigger muscleman onto his stomach. Koke lifts and sits back, locking on a Boston crab. ARGH!

Big Daddy pounds the mat in pain as he’s bent in the wrong direction. Koke keeps the hold going folding the hairy hunk as much as he can while keeping his perfectly balanced squat. My buddy looks hot with his feet planted, knees bent and ass out. Dickens tries hitting the rookie’s ankles, but the blows have no effect through boot and sock.

Koke takes a step back and squats lower, pulling Dicken’s feet closer to his head. Big men usually don't bend this much and this one is no exception. He's moaning and cursing, desperately trying to escape. All the head work has him unable to focus, though and the muscle beast is helpless against a much smaller rookie. I zoom in on his face, capturing his suffering and humiliation.

Dickens is finally admitting defeat from the extended hold, “Okay, okay.” He starts to give, but Koke releases a leg, converting the hold to a single leg crab. The shift gives the master heel a break and he holds his submission. I smile, thinking what a mistake that is, but the arrogant superstar really thinks he might come back.

My buddy puts his free hand on the hairy heel’s package. That gets Big Daddy's attention. He warns him off, but the threats only encourage Koke. He says, “I'm just seeing what all the talk is about.” Koke fondles the hefty bulge, “Meh, I've felt better. Maybe you're a grower.” The cocky young stud grips the cock shaft in the black spandex and starts squeezing it.

Dickens moans as his dominator starts pumping his cock. He swears and threatens, but it's all mixed in with moans. Pleasure and pain have the beefy beast confused and whimpering. I think he's about to give again and Koke must, too, because he lets go, releasing the thick shaft and the crab. The master heel writhes on the mat, reaching under him to adjust his erection.

Koke sits down on the hairy hunk’s back. He reaches down and grabs the waistband of his trunks. Big Daddy says, “Don't even try it, you little bitch! Don't you - AHHHHH!” The smooth stud pulls up hard and fast, wedging the trunks into the big man’s crack. His hips rise as his trapped hard-on is painfully wrenched down underneath him.

The rookie gives the beast’s bare ass a few spanks. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! He laughs, “Flat, but it'll do.” He lets go of the trunks and rises. The hairy hunk immediately flops over. His tiny trunks are down to the base of his cock and his thick manhood is obvious and stretching to the side. Dickens grabs it and pulls his trunks up in front, easing the downward pressure.

While the master heel is focused on saving his famous dick, Koke is climbing the corner. Big Daddy finishes just as the rookie flies in above him. Dickens lets out an “Oh fuck!” just as the smooth stud splashes on top of him. SPLAT! The impact drives all the air from the big man. Koke bounces on impact then hooks a tree trunk leg for a pin.

ONE!

TWO!

Koke releases the leg as he pulls the indie superstar up by his bald head. He immediately turns and clotheslines the seated heel back to the mat. WHOMP! The smooth stud spins then locks on a side head scissors. He extends and flexes his powerful legs. Koke's legs are thick and strong. Plus, the more he works the head, the less likely Dickens can come back.

The hairy hunk fights to push the legs off him, but he can't open them. He tries to reach over the leg, aiming his hand for Koke’s bulge. My buddy blocks the shot and squeezes even harder as revenge. Dickens moans and writhes on the mat. He bridges his hips, thrusting his gorgeous manhood into the air. It's still huge from earlier. Fuck, the heel is an asshole, but he's a really hot asshole.

Koke releases the scissors, moving to his feet while Dickens rolls onto his side. The hairy hunk shakes out his head. The rookie grabs his head and pulls him up into a standing head scissors. As soon as it's locked, Koke reaches down and grabs the muscle beast around the waist. My eyes go wide as he lifts the 240-lbs of hairy beef into the air.

Three seconds later, Koke is falling back, slamming Dicken’s head into the mat with a piledriver. KA-BAM! The muscle beast falls limp to the side, landing on his back, legs and arms out to the side. My buddy slides on top, straddling his waist as he sits on the furry belly. He leans forward and slaps the mat by the master heel’s right ear.

SMACK! ONE! Dickens doesn't stir.

A slap by the left ear comes next. SMACK! TWO! Nothing.

Koke lifts his hand for the third and final pin.

It doesn't come. Instead, the rookie brings his hand behind the indie superstar’s head and pulls him up to a seated position. Dickens is groggy as Koke flexes his left bicep then pushes the hairy hunk’s lips into it. The master heel wakes up as he kisses the impressive peak. He squirms then pushes, pulling free. He coughs and gags, cursing his young dominator.

Koke flexes over the ailing master heel. I taunt Dickens, telling to get his flat ass up. The master heel shoots the finger in my direction, but he's too dazed to aim it right at me. He rolls onto his front. The young rookie moves in front of him, moving his boots in close. Big Daddy grabs the shiny leather ankles then pulls himself forward to get his knee under his body.

Dickens starts his climb of shame as I mock him. He lifts his right hand to the top of the boot. He pulls, but Koke stands his ground. The muscle beast lifts his left hand to the knee. He rises a little more. Hands to ass and hip enable him to rest on one knee with his face right at Koke’s tenting practice trunks. Koke demands he look up. When the hairy hunk lifts his ear, he stares up at a flexing young rookie.

The master heel has pride. You can see the wheels slowly moving in his addled brain that's he's not going to get punked by a smaller, younger rookie. Dickens lowers one arm then balls his fist. Before I can say anything, he throws it up between Koke’s legs. I wince then relax. I saw what was coming, but more importantly, so did Koke. As the arm goes up, he closed his legs, catching the arm between his legs.

Koke fires his fist into a shocked Dickens forehead. The beefy beast falls back, but his arm is still trapped. The young rookie says, “You're as predictable as you are pathetic, jobber.” The smooth stud suddenly and viciously twists his hips. The force wrenches the big man’s arm. When my buddy opens his legs, Big Daddy pulls his arm to his body. He flops around, holding his aching arm.

As the master heel moans like a jobber, Koke moves in. He drives his boots into the sore arm and shoulder. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! I'm impressed. I've never seen my buddy work smarter. From part to part, he's seizing every opening and wrecking the hairy hunk systematically. Big Daddy's an arrogant asshole, but he's also damn good. Koke's better today.

Dickens rolls onto his stomach, trying to crawl to safety. Uh uh. Koke's on him fast, knee on ass then grabbing the sore arm. He powers the weakened limb into a hammerlock, forcing it way up the muscle beast’s back. The smooth stud slides back, palming Big Daddy's bald head, driving the side of his face down into the mat. He stops sliding when his bulge meets ass.

Koke dry humps the helpless beast, thrusting his hips back and forth. He forces the hammerlock up even higher, getting the hairy hunk whimpering under him. Dickens squirms, trying to get free somehow. Normally he could easily power out and toss 200-lbs aside like it was nothing, but he is so fucking wrecked right now. It's awesome.

The supposedly master heel groans out a threat, “Get the fuck off me! I'm gonna split you in two, you rookie bitch!” I love his attitude, but here, it's actually weak and sad given his position.

Koke tells the heel, “You want me off? Beg me. Beg me to release you before I break your arm then fuck your flat ass.”

The rookie suddenly and sharply uses all his strength to power Big Daddy's wrist up even higher. The hairy hunk screams out. He's got no choice but to give the younger wrestler what he wants. “OKAY, OKAY! Please! Lemme go! ARGH! Please!”

Koke lets go then rolls to the side. Dickens rolls onto his back then shakes out his arm. The smooth young stud slides across the beefy bad boy’s body, sitting on his stomach in a schoolboy pin. The cocky rookie flexes his biceps, “Look at me, jobber.” When Big Daddy looks up, my buddy kisses his biceps. SMOOCH! SMOOCH! He puts his hand down on the hairy pecs, “Yeah, that's right. You just had to beg me to fucking spare you, bitch. Remember that.”

Dickens growls, “You fucking -“ SLAP!

A stinging back hand shuts the hairy heel up. The big muscle beast isn't in any shape to be mouthing off. Koke just nods, “Still haven't learned? Good.” He reaches back and claws the huge package behind him. Dickens thrashes under him, going wild as my buddy holds nothing back. When Koke lets go, Big Daddy is much more compliant.

Koke slides backwards, pinning the thick legs down. He reaches inside the leg hole of the black trunks. Dickens holds up his hands, pleading for him to stop. My buddy ignores him. He wraps his hand around the base of the bulge then pulls the huge mound out from the heel’s body. With his other hand, he grabs a dangling white string and smirks.

Dickens fights, but the smooth stud twists on the manhood and any thought of resistance is gone. Koke resumes his task, sliding the string around the base of the bulge and pulling tight. As the master heel whimpers, my buddy ties off the string as a vicious cock ring. He does the same with the other one then sits back. Koke smacks around the trussed up pouch, humiliating the heel by owning his famous manhood. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

The younger wrestler slides off then grabs a wrist. He forces the heel up. Dickens moves slowly as he adjusts to having his meat bound at the base. It leaves him wide open for a huge knee lift. THUD! The hairy hunk bends forward into a front facelock then an immediate DDT. CRACK! Dickens collapses on his back on the canvas, unconscious and spreadeagle again.

One finger on the hairy pecs then a slap of the mat. ONE! A long pause.

TWO!

THR - nope. Another false pin. Damn Koke is loving this. He obviously never wants this to end.

Koke tries to force Dickens up, but it's 240-lbs of dead weight. Instead, he just gets him to seated then chops his back. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The muscle beast coughs and wakes up, although still dazed. He shakes out his head as the rookie rises. The smooth stud steps over the big man’s shoulders. He reaches down then lifts a leg up for a stump puller.

Big Daddy moans as he's pulled up. His bound bulge sticks out prominently and I make sure to zoom in on it. Koke really stretches out the leg and Dickens has no choice. He begs for release, pleading like the little bitch he's become. When he begs, “Please lemme go! You're tearing my fucking hamstring,” Koke releases the leg, letting it fall.

“We can't have that. You need to be in the shows this weekend, right?”

The rookie keeps a standing head scissors on. He flexes and kisses his biceps for me then falls back, dragging the hairy hunk down with him. Koke tightens up on the scissors, really flexing his thick thighs as he extends his legs. He sits up and slaps bald head, which is red from the pressure. Dickens mouths off, telling him to stop. Hm, still a lot of attitude. Koke hears it, too.

Koke flexes his bicep over Big Daddy's face then bends forward. He pushes it against the struggling master heel's face, ordering his to kiss it or go out. The smooth stud reminds Dickens, “You're nothing to me. This is easier than practice for me, you fucking poser. Now I wanna hear a kiss or I'm knocking you out, jobber. Again.” SMOOCH! “Yeah, that's right, bitch.”

I swear Koke looks 20-lbs bigger he's so pumped. He releases the scissors. Dickens collapses and reaches for his head. He whines about a fucking headache as my buddy rolls around and straddles him in a schoolboy pin. Big Daddy pays no attention, rubbing his head and moaning. His bound bulge is still high and plump, but he's sweaty and weak looking.

Koke slides back, sitting on the package. The muscle beast moans as 200-lbs of muscleman presses down on it. The smaller stud starts pounding away on the master heel, pummeling his hairy chest and stomach. THUD! THUD! THUD! The beefy beast can only take it, his head throbbing and his body battered. THUD! THUD! THUD! I bet Dickens has never been destroyed like this. Welcome to CLAW, dude.

Big Daddy finally gets some focus. He throws his body to the right, toppling Koke off him. The rookie rises and circles behind the struggling heel. He waits patiently as Dickens fights to rise. The hairy beast tries to get onto his knees then falls onto his hip again. He reaches for his manhood, trying to adjust it before trying again.

The way Dickens is struggling, you'd think the ring was made of ice. He slips on the puddle of sweat, but finally gets to hands and knees. Koke has waited long enough. He steps over Big Daddy's back as the helpless hunk struggles to stay on hands and knees. The smooth stud jumps then slams his butt onto the broad back. WHOMP! SPLAT! Back down goes the master heel.

Koke lowers himself then drags Dickens up into a camel clutch. It's not easy, because the muscle beast is pretty much dead weight, but once locked in, he's totally trapped. The rookie slaps the bald head, trying to wake the hairy hunk up. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! It kind of works, but not enough, obviously, because my buddy reaches over the shoulder and puts his right hand on the right pec.

With a wicked smile, Koke pinches a couple of strands of chest hair. He plucks them. Dickens stirs, but he's helpless. The rookie feels for the nipple then grabs a couple of hairs right there. When he rips those off, Big Daddy lets out a cry. Yeah, that's got his attention. My buddy keeps plucking, threatening to pluck his name onto the beefy beast’s furry pecs.

Dickens moans for him to stop, “Fuck, you proved your fucking point. Sorry I treated you like shit, kid. C’mon, man. I get it. My head’s fuckin’ killing me. I can't see straight. My back’s fucking killing me. I'm giving, man. I'm giving!”

Koke says, “Good to hear.” PLUCK! “I'm kind of done with you anyway.” My buddy switches to a sleeper, “If I put you down now, we'll still have 15 minutes to get back to practice.”

Dickens cries out, “NO!” as Koke adds a sleeper to the camel.

The rookie tightens then eases up. Koke humiliates the heel even more as he edges the master heel in the sleeper, never going all the way. It's complete dominance. The hairy hunk is nothing but a plaything at this point. Koke was right. Big Daddy is nothing. My buddy finally lets Dickens out of the camel. The pro wrestling superstar collapses on the mat, moaning but unmoving.

Koke stands over him, arms folded, looking supremely confident. He looks at me, “Let’s see how big this Big Daddy really is.”

Koke wants more from the
so-called "master heel"

“I'm Not Satisfied.”

Koke kicks the nearly unconscious muscle beast over. He bends down and unties the strings, freeing the famous manhood. The rookie grabs the waistband of the trunks then inches them down slowly. When the base of the thick cock is exposed, Koke reaches under the 240-lbs of useless beef and pulls the trunks off the ass. He returns to the front, telling me to get in the ring.

I slide in and move over the hairy heel. Koke is right. We need to capture this moment. He peels the trunks down. A thick, cut cock pops free. Sweet. It's soft, but impressive. Koke grabs it and jerks it. It responds on its own, growing to impressive proportions from the firm, but loving grip. I zoom in, getting a great view. My buddy moves his hand and I pan up and down Dickens. Beautiful.

I mutter, “Too bad he's such an asshole. He's fucking hot as hell. Even better than advertised.”

Koke agrees with me. As he tucks Dickens trunks in the waistband of his own, my buddy says, “It’s awesome.” He sighs, ”But I'm not satisfied. I want more.”

I tell him to go for it and tuck my phone in my trunks, filming out. Together, we lift the 240-lbs of dead weight up by his arms. Dickens stumbles with us, confused and groggy. We force him to the corner where I use the turnbuckles to hold him up while Koke forces his legs over the middle ropes on either side. Koke slips out of the ring behind Dickens and takes over.

I back up and resume proper filming. Damn, what a sight. One of the meanest, baddest beasts in indie pro wrestling sitting on the middle turnbuckle, legs open, his famous junk fat and hanging free, my buddy with his arm around his throat in complete control. Fuck, I could shoot my load right now. Koke uses his free hand to smack Dickens cheek. TAP! TAP! TAP!

The hairy hunk wakes up a little more, realizing where he is. He tries to move his legs, but they're locked in. Koke forces his head down, making him look at his naked junk. Big Daddy mutters, “What the fuck? Where the fuck are my trunks? Lemme go!” My buddy forces his head back up and locks on a rear naked choke.

Koke says, “What? You said you were going to do all kinds of stuff to me with that dick. Even use Kwame as a cum rag. You backing out of stakes, jobber?”

“C’mon, man. That was just talk. I never woulda done it. Just my character.”

“Except we're not in front of an audience. No, I think you meant it if you won. But you lost. Bad. You know, I don't respect guys who back out on stakes. Kind of makes you a fraud, doesn't it?” I see the rookie’s arm tighten around the hairy hunk’s neck and his eyes roll back in his head. Koke eases up just in time.

“Please. Stop.”

“I do like making you beg. And call me sir.”

“Okay, okay. I don't wanna go out again. Please, sir. You win. You're the best. C’mon, be cool. Please don't fuck with me any more.”

“Hm, maybe it's your gravelly, manly voice. Or your heel attitude. But somehow, that sounds more like an order than a request.” Koke tightens up, “And your request is denied.”

The master heel tries to beg, but no words come out as Koke squeezes on the rear naked choke. It only takes a second and the big man is out. His arms fall limp behind the top rope, his stomach and chest sag as he's slowly knocked out again. The muscle beast fights it, coughing and spasming as he tries to remain awake, but it's a lost cause.

Dickens hangs in the ropes, unconscious. Koke holds him back with one arm then tests his opponent with the other. He lifts Big Daddy's arm over the top rope then lets it drop. It falls and swing in front of the hairy torso. The smooth stud lifts it again. Same results. He lifts a third try, but this time he flings it down, slamming it into the beefy beast’s drooping junk. WHACK! The heel spasms a little, but he's definitely out.

Koke lets the muscleman fall forward, crashing down to the mat, face first. SPLAT! His limp legs slide off the ropes slowly as he awkwardly collapses down into a heap. My buddy slides back into the ring. He grabs Dickens by the wrists then drags him to the middle of the ring, resting him on his back. He kicks the legs apart and puts the arms out to the side. I slide in to pan over the destroyed body of the hairy heel again.

When I'm done, Koke moves in. We silently look down at the naked hunk, taking in the glory of his manliness. Koke squats down to toy with the cock and balls. We agree it's really beautiful and that he's deserving of his reputation. Koke and I'll be jerking off to this video for a long time to come. I turn off my phone as Koke rises. I move to congratulate my buddy, but he stops me.

“You heard the guy. He wants water. Gotta give the guest what he wants.”

Koke hops out the ring then returns with a bottle of cold water. He holds it over the beefy beast’s hairy body then pours water down onto the defeated heel from his manhood to his face. The water wakes Big Daddy up from his forced nap. He sputters and rolls onto his side, coughing. The pro wrestling superstar moans as he tries to focus. It's not easy for him after the amount of abuse he's taken today. And all at the hands of a rookie.

With Dickens helpless and unfocused, Koke easily sits behind him and pulls the heel back. Big Daddy rests his head on Koke’s leg. He wipes his eyes then looks up at the smirking rookie. Recognition sets in and it all comes clear to the stunned stud. He starts to say something, but my buddy covers his mouth, “Shhhh. You owe me some stakes, big guy.”

With a comforting smile, Koke lulls the big beast calm. He then casually wraps his smooth, powerful legs around Dickens head in a figure-four headlock. The hairy hunk is wide awake now. He begs Koke not to knock him out again. He holds his hands up, “C’mon, dude, not again. Don't do it. I'm begging, just like you asked. What the fuck more do you want?”

The young stud replies, “You know what I really want? I want to see the great Big Daddy Dickens pound one out for me like a helpless jobber. While begging not to be put out again. Do a better job than you did last time and maybe I'll let you stay conscious.”

The master heel grips his thick cock and starts pumping it. He says, “See? I'm doing it. And I'm begging. Please, sir. Please don't put me out again, sir. I'm real sorry on got on your case, sir. You're the man, sir. See, I'm begging and jerking. Please.”

“Yeah, you're a real good boy now, aren't you? Coat that fur, jobber.” Koke grabs his ankle, flexes his legs and squeezes. “Pump harder!” Dickens gags, but he obeys, trying to please the cocky rookie. The hairy hunk works his tied up manhood, jerking his cock while being choked out by Koke’s powerful legs. I've felt my buddy’s scissors. Dickens could be put out at any time.

Koke sits up. He flexes for me. The smooth muscle stud leans forward, flexing his arm over Big Daddy. He mocks the helpless heel, telling him he's getting bored. Dickens begs for time, pumping even harder. When Koke grabs his ankle and pulls, the bigger hunk’s bald head goes red. The hairy beefcake bridges his hips, trying to force out a load.

Suddenly, Big Daddy Dickens shudders and shakes. Cum erupts from his monster cock, spraying all over his hairy torso. He aims his cock down, unleashing his load onto his chest and stomach. It's a huge load, the hot white seed sticking to his thick fur, soaking it. Koke demands he drain himself dry, forcing the master heel to squeeze out every drop until he's soft.

Dickens lowers his hips, collapsing on the mat. Koke pats his face, “Good boy.” The heel relaxes until the smooth stud squeezes. The hairy hunk thrashes then goes limp. My buddy opens his legs then rolls to his knees. He taps the indie star’s cheek. No response. Koke rises and I roll into the ring to join him.

We hug then Koke says, “Small load for so much fur. I think he needs more.” I smile and pull down my trunks. We stand over the fallen pro heel and jerk of over him. It doesn't take long before I'm coating Big Daddy Dickens’ furry torso with my seed. I line his torso then kneel down to wipe off on his bald head. “Who's the fucking cum rag now, bitch?”

Koke laughs then quickly adds his load on top of mine. By the time he's done, Dickens is well-covered. He'll remember this day next time he tries to bully a rookie.

The Aftermath

I tuck my cock back into my trunks then congratulate my buddy. As we're hugging, I see Ben standing against the wall. I gulp and spin Koke around. He whispers, “Oh shit.” We didn't know he was here. Now we're standing over the visiting heel. The guy Ben brought in to help CLAW. The guy who's now unconscious. Spreadeagle. Naked. Covered in three loads of cum. Oh shit.

Our boss silently slides into the ring. He kneels beside the unmoving carcass. Ben lifts an arm. He drops it. PLOP! He tests it two more times. PLOP! PLOP! Ben rises, nodding as he assesses the situation. When he looks at us, we force ourselves to roll our shoulders back and lift our heads. Even though he's naked, Koke confidently steps in front of me,

“I can explain, sir. See what happened is -”

Ben holds up a hand stopping Koke. He says, “What's to explain? Max tried to bully you. You stood up for yourself. That it?”

My buddy replies, “Well, yes, sir.”

Our boss moves up to us and grips Koke’s shoulder. He smiles, “I'm proud of you. Hit the showers. Jake and Nate will be here in a few minutes. They were supposed to spar with Big Daddy to get ready for the weekend, so they can figure out what to do with him.”

We reply in unison, “Yes, sir.”

We run into the back, not wanting Ben to change his mind. In the locker room, we burst out laughing then high-five and bro hug. When we break, Koke is bouncing off the walls, “Fuck! That was sick. I just squashed Max ‘Big Daddy’ Dickens! FUUUCCCKKKKK! I owned his fucking ass.”

I nod, “And Ben fucking loved it! He was so fucking proud of you. He's gonna reward you, buddy. Like something real good is gonna happen for you on this week’s show.”

“Ben was proud, wasn't he? Oh fuck, yes. I'm on such a fucking high right now.”

“It was amazing, Koke. I'm proud of you, too, dude. You're my new fucking hero.”

My buddy stops moving. His muscles are so pumped and his cock is huge and pointing right at me. I've never seen him look hotter. He asks, “Wanna prove it? I could seriously go again, man. Like my cock is hurting it's so hard. I could use a buddy right now.”

I open my arms out wide, “Hell, yeah. I'm all yours. Use me, giant-killer.”

The End