The Cave Undercard 26: Bird Boy vs. Monitor

The Cave Ring

Xaq and Cody

“A rookie? UH! You’re wasting my - AH! - time with a rookie? FUCK, THAT HURTS! C’mon, Cody, stop cheating!”

I calmly say, “Bending your fingers back in an armbar is not cheating, Xaq. If you don’t like the pain, do something about it.” I smirk, knowing he’s too distracted by my reveal of his next wrestling match to counter effectively. I’m such a bastard but he has to learn.


The muscle freak tries to power free. He fails. I adjust the grip on my simple but vicious submission hold. Not to make it easier or lighter but to make it hurt more. Xaq screams louder and at a higher-pitch. That’s how I know it’s working. He pounds the mat with his right hand which is connected to his right arm which is stretched out behind him, useless. My shin on the back of his head pushes his face into the mat while I casually control his left arm, hand and fingers. Elegant and simple. He’s butterflied and powerless.

Xaq gasps, “STOP!” I don’t. He again begs, “Let go! Not fair! C’mon, Cody!” I ignore him. His power is useless, so he whines, “You’re cheating!” I’m not. “This isn’t wrestling!” It is. He demands, “LET ME GO!” I won’t. “UNH! Fuck, I hate you.” He doesn’t. We both know he loves it when I’m in complete control. “OH FUCK!”

“Are you done? So, let me ask, how will you lift with broken fingers?”

Xaq growls but his right hand flops up and down, tapping the mat, “Okay, okay. I give.” Now that the 20-year old bodybuilder has finally whimpered a submission, I ease up without letting go completely. I keep his arm under control with one hand and my shin on his head. I reach down with my free hand and tousle his sweaty hair. He whines, “Don’t! Get off me.”

I praise him, “Good try. That’s a tough one to counter but we’ll work on how to avoid even getting into it. As for your next match, I think you’re ready for a new challenge. Your current position notwithstanding. Want to try to escape again?”

My young trainee-slash-sidekick tries to surprise me by powering his arm free but I’m ready. I simply shift my weight and hold on with both hands. He can only kick and pound the mat in frustration. Xaq is an insanely muscular and ridiculously cocky brat. I love tormenting him, but it's also an important lesson. He’s more muscular than me. He’s stronger than me. However, that doesn’t matter. I’ve got him as long as he forgets that he has legs. If he used them right, he could easily escape.

Yes, Xaq trusts his power too much but the bigger problem is that he loves being dominated. Not just by me but by any man. As much as he’s built his muscles to be unstoppable, any man who can control him can pretty much own him. And controlling him is made easy by his arrogance. He leaves himself open to be dominated. He’d deny all this but we both know it's true. When I do let him go, he’ll be hard as hell.

Xaq stops fighting for a moment, “You think any rookie is a challenge for me? What are you - OW! - talking about, Cody? I - UH! - I thought maybe you were going to - OH FUCK! - put me against Mr. Riddle now that he’s - UNH! UNH! - not so skinny. Or let me get revenge on Ram. OH FUCK, YOU SUCK! I GAVE! YOU SHOULD LET GO!”

I sigh. Xaq versus Mr. Riddle? Yeah, right. My training of Xaq is going well on a technical level but not that well. I've been working with him for a while and the muscle freak has finally started listening. I’m seeing improvement, but he thinks he’s ready to take on the world. He’s not. For example, it’s been over three minutes and he's no closer to escape than he was at the start.

As my sidekick starts to counter again, I explain, “The guy you’re facing will be a challenge for you. I mean, he’s like your twin. 19-years old. 5’11”. 200-lbs. Insane muscle freak. You’ve actually competed against him as a bodybuilder. Vincent Tran?”

The trapped muscle boy freezes, forgetting about getting free. He says, “WHAT? UNH! That lightweight loser kid?” I stifle a laugh. Vince is only one year younger, one inch shorter and five pounds lighter. Muscle twins. Xaq grunts through the pain, “I beat him every competition! He’s nothing! UNH! Figures he’s trying to - UNH! - follow me to The Cave!”

“Xaq. I want you to focus. I deliberately distracted you by talking about your next opponent. I took advantage of that distraction. I’m still distracting you. You’re still trapped. You’re suffering. I’m resting. Guys are going to talk at you. Call you names. Challenge your ego. Verbally excite and dominate you. You need to learn to ignore it. C’mon, you’re better than this.”

My young protege stops moaning. I know he’s thinking. He’s telegraphing that he’s about to counter. If this was a real match, I’d simply act before he does. Instead, I wait and let him take his time. He finally focuses on the hold. Xaq ‘suddenly’ (if you can call acting after four minutes and a submission suddenly) remembers his legs. He shifts them, getting his knees under him. He uses them to push up, simultaneously rolling his shoulder as he twists free. With a burst of power, he topples me, dives on top, and pins me down into a schoolboy pin.

Xaq slides his shins onto my shoulders. He flexes over me, “Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Sure enough, his green speedo is tenting. Oh well, some things might never change. I don’t need them to. I’m trying to allow him outlets to satisfy his inner jobber so when he’s in a match, he can hold out better. Whether it’s our training or his private matches, hopefully it’ll give him his fill. I don’t know if it’ll work but it’s the idea I’m going with. I let him savor the dominant position while I enjoy the view of his sweaty pumped muscles. He is a muscle freak.

Xaq leans forward and slaps the mat. He proudly counts, “ONE!”

I casually shift my arms under him, put one hand on his firm ass, put the other one around his ankle and bridge up, throwing him forward onto his stomach. I slide out from under him then grab both ankles. He squirms but I’m faster. I fold them together then force his heels into his bubble butt. He instinctively reaches back so I grab his wrists and pull.

My sidekick curses as I trap him. I keep his feet pinned to his mountainous ass with my leg as I pull back on his arms. His head and chest rise off the mat as I torture his shoulders, back and knees with one simple hold. The young bodybuilder tenses his muscles and pulls against my hold. He clenches his fists and flexes, trying to force his arms free. It doesn’t work.

I coach him, “Not a bad idea. My hands are way too big and strong for that but against most guys? You’d be free. What else you got?”

Xaq pauses then replies, “I’m not even close to giving. I could just wait you out.”

“Now you’re thinking. It’s work for me, holding you up like this. If you can take it, odds are good I’ll tire myself out and let go before you submit. Very strategic.” Xaq relaxes, letting the weight of his massive muscles wear me down. I ask, “So when I do let go, what then?”

I don’t wait for an answer. I let go and leap onto his back. He tries to rise but I’ve got my arms around his neck and head. I roll us over so he’s on top of me as I cinch in the sleeper. He pulls at my arms but I’m locked in. I wrap my legs around his body in a controlling scissors. He’s cursing again. I rub his head then tighten the choke.

Xaq struggles but as soon as I squeeze, he taps my forearm furiously. I release the sleeper but grab his hair. I use it to force his head to the side then bite his neck. He moans. I reach over his shoulder and rub his pec. I tweak his nipple and he melts. I suddenly squeeze the scissors tighter and he cries out. No way I’m really hurting him but he’s mentally submitting.

I whisper, “C’mon, boy. Give to daddy.” I run the heel of my shiny black pro wrestling boot along his shaft as I suckle on his neck and fondle his chest.

My muscle freak sidekick mindlessly whimpers, “I give, daddy. I give. Oh daddy.”

I sigh, reminding myself that I’m really hot, this situation is really hot and he’s a work-in-progress. I look at the clock. Perfect timing as we’re done. I open my legs then throw him off me. He rolls over to lie face down, whimpering on the sweat-soaked mat. His ass is up high thanks to the rock-hard cock he’s unsuccessfully trying to hide underneath him.

I pat his ass, “Good practice. Wipe down the ropes and turnbuckles. Mop the ring. Hit the showers. Think about what I said about focus because you need to be here Saturday at 2pm. It’s Bird Boy vs. Monitor.”

Saturday, 2:20pm. The Hallway Outside The Cave Locker Rooms

“Hey, Ry. Bird Boy is showered and almost dressed, but we have a problem with Vince.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty arrogant.”

“No, that’s not the problem. I don’t care about that. He’s wearing black lizard skin pattern gear, which we could switch out, but he’s already got a lizard temporary tattoo on.”

“I know. I applied it.”

“Oh. I thought he was playing a villain named Monitor.”

“He is.” At my blank stare, my best friend explains, “Monitor as in monitor lizard, Cody.”

“Oh. Wait, what? That’s a thing?” Ryan explains it’s like a mini-dragon. There are a lot of these things in Southeast Asia and since Vince’s family is Vietnamese, he chose something from there. I still don’t get it. Monitor Lizard, yes. Just Monitor? No. Still, I have to accept it, but say, “Ry, remember how your mom used to warn you that I was too clever by half?”

“Yeah.”

“I think this is the kind of thing she meant.”

“Trust me, it isn’t. But I do hear you. Look, we can always change it later. Name aside, what do you think?”

“Oh, he’s hot as fuck. A total bitch, but amazing looking. He’s literally a perfect match for Xaq. You done good, buddy.”

Ryan smiles at my compliment. Even after being friends for 19 years and equals for almost one of those now, he still gets so happy when I compliment him. I’m loving my buddy being more independent, but I hope that never changes. A happy Ryan makes me a happy Cody. Anyway, Ry grabs his camera and heads into the arena as I let the wrestlers know it’s time.

Monitor comes out of his locker room. He really is hot as fuck. Now that I know it’s intentional, I can admire the shiny black gear. The bodybuilder is poured into it. Black tights with slashes over his tree trunk thighs over a black thong. Black boots and domino mask around his eyes. And the tattoo on his massive left pec. Very villainous. Very sexy.

Bird Boy joins us in the hall. He looks great, too. He’s in green briefs, pro boots and short gloves, with a small black face mask and a “BB” tattoo on his left pec. His short yellow cape and gold belt get stripped before the action. He sneers at his competition, looking him up and down. Monitor does the same as they assess the other through wrestler eyes.

My sidekick says, “I didn’t realize you’d given up bodybuilding. Wow, puffy.”

Monitor smirks, “I figured I’d try to match you. Of course, mine is just water weight, not fat.”

Bird Boy growls, “Maybe I’ll pop those water balloons you call muscles.”

The villain slaps his legs as flexes them, “And maybe I’ll pop your water balloon brain.”

I break them up, “Boys, save it for the ring. And remember, this is a wrestling match not a bodybuilding competition. There’s a big difference.”

Monitor looks me up and down, “There must be a HUGE difference because I hear you’re good at wrestling.” I just roll my eyes at the insult. He says with snark, “But don’t worry, I’ll save all my posing until fat-ass here is laid out, flat on his back, unconscious in the ring.”

“You’ve never beaten me at anything.”

“Because I’ve got self-respect. You get off being the bitch of bodybuilding, but not me. Hope you have some new tricks because dropping to your knees on command obviously isn’t helping you win in the ring. What’s your record? 0-11?”

Bird Boy starts to talk, but I hold up a hand. I send Monitor through to the ring, so he can pose all he wants while Ryan and his obnoxious friend Pete film it. Alone, I calm Xaq down then psych him up. He says, “Don’t worry, Cody. I’m gonna make him pay for calling you old and fat.” He didn’t exactly say that, but I let it go. If it motivates my sidekick to focus, let it be.

I send the young muscle hero out to the ring then slip into the shadows to watch the match. Bird Boy poses, but as he does, the teen heel insults him. My sidekick loses his cool and they start trash talking again. Monitor knows exactly how to get under his opponent’s skin. Damn. Enough is enough. I don’t want my protégé distracted. I ring the bell to kick things off.

DING! DING! DING!

Round One

The two bodybuilders charge in. They bump chests hard. WHOMP! Both guys bounce off then come back for more. WHOMP! WHOMP! Their massive pecs are hard as granite. Neither guy gives an inch, but they start to tent down their trunks and tights. WHOMP! WHOMP! They finally stop, circling with sneers on their handsome faces.

The studs dive in for a lock up. Their muscles grow and tense as they strain and struggle for dominance. Neither guy tries any tricks. They want to show they’re legitimately stronger than their rival. Grunting fills the arena as they press and push. Finally, it’s Bird Boy who wins out, forcing Monitor back thanks to some subtle shifting techniques that I taught him. Nice.

Bird Boy drives Monitor all the way back to the corner. CLANG! The villain lifts his arms for a clean break. As the young hero pulls off, the villain brings his hands down fast and hard, chopping his opponent’s traps. THWAK! THWAK! He grabs the ropes on either side of the corner, pushing up and lifting himself higher, he throws his legs around the surprised sidekick’s waist. The teen heel squeezes hard as the hero cries out.

The muscle hero drops to his knees and throws his head and arms back as his trim midsection is crushed in the powerful scissors. Monitor uses the ropes for support as he extends his legs to increase the pressure. Bird Boy reaches inside the legs to try to pry the, apart, but that has no chance of success. Even through the slashed tights, you can see the muscular definition of the teen powerhouse’s mighty legs.

Monitor laughs as he squeezes, “On your knees already? I guess you really are a one-trick puppy, Bird Bitch.”

Bird Boy growls. He lifts his right leg to plant one foot. The villain tries to increase the pressure, but the young hero pushes with his leg, propelling himself backwards. Monitor is pulled off the ropes and out of the corner. He lands hard on the back of his neck, stunned by the impact. CRACK! My sidekick easily powers the legs from his waist now, rising to his feet.

The hero leaps up, coming down with a big elbow drop to the chest. WHOMP! He grabs the villain by the hair and drags him up with him. When he reaches on knee, Monitor fires a stiff fist into the chiseled abs. THUD! Bird Boy laughs it off. He throws his knee into the teen hunk’s meaty pecs. WHOMP! The force sends the heel flying backwards onto his back.

Bird Boy moves in with some boots to the villain’s rock-hard abs and core. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The villain takes them, only grunting, but that’s okay. This is the long game. My sidekick likes bearhugs and he’s good at them, so we’ve worked on the importance of wearing down his opponent’s core. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The teen powerhouse grunts louder.

Monitor’s had enough. He grabs Bird Boy’s boot, twisting hard as he puts his whole body into it. Bird Boy topples down to the mat, landing on his stomach. The villain keeps hold of the boot as he rolls around into a single leg crab. The young hero pounds the canvas as he’s bent the wrong way. The heel starts to speak, but my sidekick presses up and powers free.

Bird Boy leaps to his feet as Monitor does the same. They bash chests again only this time, the muscle hero grabs the villain around the waist. He lifts and spins, executing a fast belly-to-belly suplex. BOOM! The powerful sidekick fires his fists down into the heel’s chiseled midsection. THUD! POW! THUD! The amazing six-pack holds, but turns red.

Monitor brings his knee up, slamming it into Bird Boy’s side. The hero topples sideways and both guys rise. They lock up again. This time, as the slightly bigger stud pushes, the villain spins, flipping him over with an arm drag takedown. WHAM! The hero rolls and spins, but he’s met with a boot to the head. CRACK! That sends the hero onto his back.

The villain jumps up, coming down with a knee to the chest. THUD! Monitor grabs Bird Boy’s hair then uses it to drag him to a seated position. Instead of dragging him to his feet, he spins with a clothesline across the chest that sends the hero back down hard. WHOMP! WHACK! Bird Boy writhes in the ring, dazed from the sudden and powerful attack.

Monitor gets to his feet. He climbs to the middle turnbuckle then leaps off. He comes down with a big leg drop across the face. SPLAT! Bird Boy’s arms and legs flop up and down as his body twitches. The teen powerhouse smoothly grabs my sidekick by the hair and drags him over, forcing his face into the bulge in the villain’s black tights.

The dominant heel closes his legs around Bird Boy’s head, locking on a scissors. The helpless hero wakes up, but it’s too late. He flails and cries out, but the sound is muffled by the spandex-wrapped balls that effectively gag him. The young hero’s green pro boots kick up and down as his head is squeezed by the powerful legs.

Monitor laughs, “Give or I’ll pop it! I warned you I would!”

Bird Boy suddenly tenses and I hear a loud growl, even with his face trapped. My sidekick pushes up with his legs. His broad shoulders force the villain’s legs into the air. The rookie wrestler keeps the scissors, but he’s bent in half, his shoulders pinned. The muscle hero doesn’t even try to count the pin, instead grabbing behind Monitor’s head. He roars as he stands up, lifting the villain up with him.

The hero turns then drops forward, slamming the teen heel down onto the ring. BOOM! The impact stuns him. Bird Boy bounces backwards into the ropes, shaking out his head to try to re-focus. Monitor rises slowly, looking wobbly. I’m surprised he’s so hurt. Bird Boy better be - never mind. The hero charges at the villain, looking to seize the advantage. As I suspected, the heel was playing possum. He slides out of the way, tripping the hero. Bird Boy falls forward, his face slamming into the bottom turnbuckle. BANG!

Bird Boy moans as he lies in the corner, his arms draped over the bottom ropes and his head resting on the bottom turnbuckle like a pillow. He tries to rise, pulling himself forward so his chest is on the turnbuckle. The hero is too slow. Behind him, Monitor is in the opposite corner measuring his opponent up. The villain charges and leaps up, coming down with his butt on the broad back. PLOP! The impact of 200-lbs of muscle crushes my sidekick. Ouch.

Monitor grabs the top ropes and bounces up and down, turning the butt drop into a bronco buster on the back. He swirls one arm overhead like a cowboy with a lasso, enjoying his dominance. The villain slides backwards to sit on the hero’s lower back. He pulls Bird Boy up into a camel clutch, locking him in tight. The helpless hunk moans in pain.

The teen villain slaps the hero’s cheeks, “Bird Boy’s getting a new daddy today. Look at the bright side, Bird Bitch, at least I’m a lot fucking hotter than the guys you usually bend over for.”

I’m impressed that the rookie knows these moves. He’s good. Bird Boy underestimated him, but so did I a little. I really thought my sidekick would dominate. He’s got to focus. I watch helplessly as he tries to power out. He can’t. Luckily, he doesn’t give, either. Monitor pulls back as hard as he can, but all he gets is pained groans.

Monitor realizes he’s not getting a submission. He put his hand on the back of Bird Boy’s head then releases the hold. He pushes forward, driving my sidekick’s face into the bottom turnbuckle. CLANG! The villain rises then bends over and grabs the green pro boots. He drags the hero’s limp carcass to the middle of the ring. He drives his boots onto the unmoving hero. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

The teen powerhouse drops his knees down onto Bird Boy’s back. WHACK! He reaches down, grabbing the hero’s ankles, folding them together then pulling them towards him. He mounts my sidekick, kneeling on his back. The villain quickly grabs the sidekick under the chin and with his shins pressed on the back, he rocks then rolls the 205-lbs of muscle up into a bow and arrow.

Bird Boy groans as he hangs on the teen heel’s shins. His bulge rises high and I can see he’s already hard in the punishing hold. I try to will him to hold out, but his high-pitched gasping is a telltale sign that he’s in pain. And with his cock stretching his green trunks like that, he’s fighting the pain and his submissive inklings. Damn.

Monitor holds firm, not looking like a guy who’s going to give this hold up. Even from his angle, he can see the rock-hard cock. “Fuck, you’re such a bodybuilder bitch. You wanna shoot, boy? You gonna shoot your submission?”

“UNH! UNH! Fuck you. Oh fuck. UNH! Oohhhhh fuuuccccckkkkk! UNH!”

The whimpering defiance isn’t convincing. Monitor just laugh then he starts moving his legs, bouncing the helpless hero up and down. Bird Boy cries out as he suffers. His arms flail uselessly and I’m not sure he’s even trying to escape. He’s just lost in the moment. The villain continues to taunt him, calling him pathetic and weak. Instead of motivating the sidekick, it conquers him. He whimpers his submission.

“I give! I give!”

The villain releases the boot and chin, kicking the helpless hero off. Bird Boy rolls onto his stomach, twitching and moaning. Monitor rises then puts his boot on the young hero’s ass. He flexes, “Not bad for a rookie, right? Fuck, you’re terrible at this.”

The rookie's a stud.

Monitor circles around in front. He slides his boot under the hero’s face. “Kiss it.” My sidekick resists, but he’s too slow and weak. The villain lifts the toe of his shiny black boot against his lips, forcing contact. Bird Boy backs up, his mouth sliding on the smooth patent leather.

The villain smirks, “Good boy.”

A suddenly re-energized Bird Boy springs up to his feet, “I DID NOT KISS YOUR BOOT!”

“Yeah, you did, fatso. And you’re going to kiss a lot more than that before I’m done.”

“FUCK YOU!”

My sidekick continues to rant, but Monitor turns his back on him and walks to his corner. Damn. The villain is a rookie but he’s no newbie. He has a plan. He’s executing it. It’s working. Bird Boy stretches out his back. He needs to focus. I’m tempted to head to the ring but I don’t. I need him to figure it out. Am I a bad trainer or is he just untrainable?

Round Two

DING! DING! DING!

Bird Boy storms to the middle of the ring. The heel does the same. The bodybuilders bump chests again. My sidekick glares at Monitor, “I did NOT kiss your boot!”

“Are you still on that? Please. We all saw the wet spot.”

“BECAUSE YOU PUT YOUR BOOT AGAINST MY LIPS! THEY’RE JUST NATURALLY MOIST AND SHINY! THAT’S NOT A REAL KISS!”

Monitor smirks, “I meant the wet spot on your trunks. You’re getting hard just thinking about being my bitch. I can feel your pencil dick twitching against my soft but still way bigger bulge.”

The young hero steps back, “PENCIL DICK?”

“No wonder you’re such a bottom bitch. The only place you’re not fat is where it counts.”

“I’M NOT FAT! AND MY COCK IS BEAUTIFUL! WAY BIGGER THAN YOURS!”

Bird Boy looks down as he grabs his cock with his right hand. Ugh. Yes, he actually looks down. God dammit. Are you kidding me? Of course, the villain unwinds with a huge right forearm aimed at the distracted muscle freak’s head. BLOCK! Oh wait. The hero actually gets his left arm up and defends the shot with his forearm. The tricky sidekick dives in with his rising right elbow coming up hard under Monitor’s chin. CRACK! Suddenly, my shame shifts to pride.

The villain staggers backwards, looking stunned and wobbly. My muscular sidekick leaps up for a low dropkick, driving his boots into the heel’s ripped abs. KA-THUD! The force sends Monitor flying backwards into the ropes. He bounces off, stumbling into a double donkey kick to the stomach. THUMP! The villain falls backwards, landing on his ass as he lies on the bottom rope.

The energized Bird Boy springs up to his feet. He moves in fast. Monitor tries to surprise him by lifting his boot up at his midsection, but the muscle hero sees it coming. He grabs the boot then uses it to drag the villain to the middle of the ring. My sidekick steps on the teen heel’s other ankle, pinning it to the mat. He spreads the legs out wide, stretching the groin as he twists the leg to strain the knee and ankle.

Monitor groans and writhes on the mat. His pained gyrations are erotic. Even Bird Boy is hypnotized. Instead of amping up the pressure, my sidekick is watching, his green trunks tenting. The villain suddenly pulls his raised leg towards him. The hero is yanked off balance, allowing the teen powerhouse to kick out, sending Bird Boy flying off him.

The villain spins into a crouch. Bird Boy carelessly charges right into a leaping shoulder block to the stomach. WHOMP! The impact of 200-lbs of flying muscle flattens the hero onto his back. Monitor does a handstand (wow, cool) over his opponent’s body then brings his knee down right into the chiseled midsection. THUD! OOF! That breaks down the muscle wall.

Monitor digs his knee into the solid abs as he laughs, “Shit, half my leg has sunk into your pot belly.”

Bird Boy growls, “I DON’T HAVE A BELLY!” The hero throws the villain off him. As the young bodybuilders rise, he angrily says, “I’ll show you who has a belly!”

My muscular sidekick dives at Monitor, but it’s a sloppy (and stupid) move. He’s thrown off his game, enabling the rookie heel to easily lift his boot up into the ripped and red abs. THUD! OOF! Bird Boy stumbles forward, bent over and out of control. The villain easily catches him in a front facelock. The teen powerhouse grabs the side of the green trunks then suplexes the 205-lbs muscleman over onto his back. WHAM!

Monitor spins to rise. He grabs Bird Boy by the wrist, pulling him up with him. The villain suddenly unleashes a series of kicks to his opponent’s weakening abs. WHACK! BAM! THWAK! The hero bends forward, gasping from the ruthless assault on his core. The teen heel grabs him over the shoulder and between the legs. He lifts then drops my sidekick down onto his leg for a gutbuster. WHOMP! OOF!

“You can’t tell me that hurts. You’ve got so much padding.”

“I’m not - cough, cough - fat, you fucking bitch!”

The villain pushes the gagging good guy off his leg. Bird Boy rolls over, rising to hands and knees. He breathes in deeply, trying to focus. Too bad the rookie isn’t pausing to flex. No, Monitor is right there, moving in behind him. The teen heel grabs the hero around the waist then pulls him up into a reverse bearhug. OOF! UNH!

The hero struggle in the hold, but he can’t power out. He whimpers as he fights to pry the powerful arms from his waist. That’ll never work. One of his signature moves is bearhugs. In fact, Bird Boy might have the best bearhug in The Cave, even better than guys much bigger than him. It doesn’t, however, seem to be helping him figure out how to escape this one.

The teen powerhouse keeps tightening, contracting the hero’s body every time he takes a breath. He leans back, lifting the 205-lbs muscleman off the mat then lowering him. He keeps lifting and lowering, distracting Bird Boy. The longer this hold goes, the weaker my sidekick gets and the more confident the villain gets. Fuck.

Monitor squeezes on the reverse bear hug. He humps Bird Boy as he crushes the life from him. It’s humiliating enough that the villain is using the hero’s own best move to defeat him. And that it’s happening in just two falls. And to a rookie. Now, the grinding of the teen powerhouse’s bulge against my sidekick’s bubble butt is the icing on the shame cake.

The heel taunts, “You’re the bitch of the bodybuilding circuit and now you’re the bitch of the ring, too.”

My sidekick sags in the crushing vice. His legs bend and his arms hang limp in front of him. He gasps and moans as he's dry-humped, submitting to the dominance of his rival. In the battle of these two bodybuilder twins, Bird Boy is the clear beta. Monitor pulls the hero up and in, going for the kill. The young hero’s head flops weakly. I can barely stand to watch him as he shows no resistance at all.

Hm. Bird Boy tightens his fists. Not that they’ll do much in this position, but it’s a sign of life. The muscle hero’s legs tighten. Now I’m paying attention. Monitor can’t see any of this. The suffering bodybuilder staggers. It’s pathetic, except I can see that he’s lined the villain’s back up with the corner. I rise to my feet in the shadows. Please, please be doing what I think you’re doing. It’s all I can do to stay quiet.

Suddenly, my sidekick roars and pushes with his legs. He drives the shocked villain backwards, slamming the heel into the corner. CLANG! Bird Boy sandwiches the teen bodybuilder between the immovable turnbuckles and the irresistible force of his 205-lbs of muscle. SPLAT! Monitor loses the bearhug, his arms falling limp to the side.

Bird Boy take one step forward then slams his body backwards. CRUNCH! OOF! The villain sags in the corner, his mouth hanging open as he groans. The recovering hero spins with an elbow to the side of the teen powerhouse’s head. CRACK! My sidekick bends down grabbing neck and inner thigh. With a squat and a lift, Monitor is gorilla pressed into the air.

The villain cries out as he goes up. He screams when Bird Boy immediately flips him over, slamming him onto his back. KABOOM! Monitor bounces off the ring, twitching as the impact cripples him with pain. The young hero drags his prey up, scoping him across his chest. He body slams the teen heel down. BOOM! Again, the shocked and aching Monitor bounces.

My sidekick kicks Monitor over onto his stomach then unleashes his green pro boots on the back. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! He looks like a man possessed. I’m impressed that he’s being so relentless. No arrogance. No posing. Just focused back punishment. Bird Boy leaps into the air, coming down with a huge splash. SPLAT! The villain’s head flies up as he moans in pain.

Bird Boy grabs a handful of black hair, pulling the rookie up with him. The muscle hero lines his shoulders up against Monitor’s back and lifts the helpless heel into a torture rack. The cries of pain are immediate. The dominant bodybuilder handles the 200-lbs villain with ease. He probably squats double this, so he can easily handle Monitor on his shoulder.

The rookie groans as he’s punished. But he’s not submitting. He shows his savvy side as he slams his elbow into the side of my sidekick’s head. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Bird Boy loses the rack, dropping the villain down. Monitor rolls to the corner behind the hero, using the ropes to pulls himself up as Bird Boy shakes his head out.

When my sidekick turns to look for the teen powerhouse, Monitor runs out at him with a spear. I brace for impact. Just in time, Bird Boy spins to his left. The villain sails by him, running himself into the corner. He flies between the top and middle turnbuckles, his momentum carrying him all the way to the ring post where he hits shoulder first. CLANG!

Bird Boy moves in from behind. He grabs Monitor around the waist then lifts him up, throwing him backwards with a belly-to-back suplex. BOOM! The impact is huge, especially as my sidekick deliberately (I hope) leaned to his right so the teen heel would land more on his injured shoulder. The heel rolls onto his side, lying on his good shoulder to ease the pressure.

The muscle hero moves in behind him. He drops down, putting his shin on Monitor’s head and grabbing the injured arm. The villain fights, but Bird Boy is fast and determined. He knows exactly what he’s going for. My sidekick twists and locks on an armbar. He uses his other knee to push the villain’s body forward as he pulls back, hyperextending the damaged shoulder.

Monitor cries out in pain. His shiny black boots kick up and down. His good arm is trapped under and behind him, immobilizing it. Bird Boy locks the arm under his armpit for security then punches at the aching shoulder. THUD! POW! THUD! He cranks on the arm then does it again. POW! THUD! POW! The villain whimpers, unable to stand the pain.

“I give! I give! I give!”

Bird Boy lets go, “Damn right you do.”

The hero rises and flexes over the teen heel. He’s remarkably subdued. Almost like he’s focused. That sure would be nice. Bird Boy is pumped, his incredible body coated in sweat which shines under the bright lights. Monitor works out his shoulder, ignoring the display of muscle and power happening over him. Smart.

Okay, it’s all tied up. I breathe a little easier, but I’m not cocky. Monitor is surprisingly tough. My sidekick has actually outsmarted him more than outwrestled him, but he can’t count on the rookie falling for another ruse. Once they get to their corners, there’ll be a five-minute break. Hopefully that shoulder damage lingers. It’d be great to see Bird Boy with an advantage.

Round Three

“Ready to lose, loser?”

Monitor laughs, “Wow, did you really spend the last five minutes thinking that up? You really need to work on your body if you’re going to be that stupid.”

“Yeah? You need a bigger mask if you’re going to be that ugly!”

“I can’t wait to gag you with your own trunks just so I don’t have to listen to you.”

The villain moves in, forcing a lockup and mercifully ending the trashtalking session. The bodybuilders tie up in a classic collar-and-elbow. Bird Boy forces Monitor into a side headlock. He uses his gym-built muscles to squeeze the villain’s head. I can see the teen powerhouse’s head turning red. He grunts as he’s walked around the ring, dragged by his head.

Bird Boy pauses to crank the headlock, really applying the pressure. His bicep flexes into Monitor’s cheek, crushing his head against his rock-hard side. The hero savors his dominance, this simple display of power proving his superiority. Or not. The villain grabs him around the waist and behind the leg. He lifts the 205-lbs of muscle up and back, dropping my sidekick down with a side suplex. BOOM!

Monitor immediately grabs behind the hero’s leg and rolls him up into a cradle pin. The teen powerhouse slides his arm under Bird Boy’s head then locks his hands together. The muscle hero is locked up, his knee at his nose, his ass up and his free leg flailing uselessly. The rookie wrestler shifts, making sure his opponent’s shoulders are down and his grip is tight. He counts.

ONE!

TWO!

Bird Boy throws his body open, his leg tearing the villain’s hands apart as he stretches out and lifts a shoulder just in time. He wisely rolls away and out of reach as Monitor rises to a crouch. Both bodybuilders scramble to their feet. They face off pec to pec, bulge to bulge. Their foreheads touch as they growl at each other, their hot breath hitting their lips.

My sidekick says, “Figures you’d try a cheap win.”

“You’re the only cheap thing around here, bitch. Real $5 whore from what I hear.”

“Fuck you. Guys pay a ton to wrestle me.”

“You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah, well you - WHOA! ARGH!”

Monitor seizes the moment, grabbing the young hero into a bearhug. His shoulders and arms pump up with power as his veins pop out and every cut becomes a deep crevice. The shocked sidekick moans as he crushed in the devastating hold. Last time, he escaped by playing possum. This time, the villain won’t fall for that. Hopefully he can focus and counter.

Bird Boy writhes in the hold. He pushes on his opponent’s thick chest and shoulders, but he’s never escaping that way. He tries to power his arms between them, but the hold is too tight. He draws back his right arm for a head shot, but Monitor sees it coming a mile away. The teen powerhouse shakes his victim, ending the resistance as the pain saps Bird Boy’s strength and his arm falls down limp.

The villain goes for broke, shaking and squeezing as hard as he can. This time, he’s not going to be denied his victory. Bird Boy cries out as he’s manhandled by his physical twin, dominated in the simplest of holds. It’s a primal man vs man contest and my guy is losing. Monitor lifts the 205-lbs bodybuilder up off the mat and shakes him again. Wow.

I hear my sidekick cry out in high-pitched whimpers. That’s his submission sound. Oh fuck. Hold on. Bird Boy falls back, his chest rising up high as his head and arms dangle down limp behind him. He actually looks weak in the villain’s vice. Monitor bounces him, getting the most out of his hold. The hero gasps for breath. He whimpers, “No, no, no.”

Monitor smiles, “Yes, yes, yes. Submit. Submit and you’ll get everything you want.”

Bird Boy weakly rolls his head back and forth, silently denying the heel his win. He suddenly goes very limp. Oh crap. Is he knocked out? Monitor sees it, too. He shakes my sidekick from side to side. No sign of life. The villain is understandably wary of another trick. He bounces the crushed carcass. The action wakes the hero as he moans and cries again.

The teen powerhouse says, “You wanna go out? Just say you’re done and the fun can start.”

The muscle hero tries to raise his head, but he can barely do it. He starts to speak but then he lifts his left arm. They’re close enough that he can grab the top rope. Monitor roughly pulls him away from the rope, but Bird Boy holds on. The villain pulls harder. This time, my sidekick lets go. The extra force sends them flying to the side. Monitor loses his balance as the hero swings his left arm up, clubbing the heel across the head. WHACK!

It’s enough. Bird Boy falls to the canvas while Monitor shakes out his head. The muscle hero struggles to rise. He crawls to the ropes. Just as he grabs the middle rope, the villain is there, grabbing his boot. The teen powerhouse drags the weakened bodybuilder to the middle of the ring. He steps over the raised leg then grabs the other. Uh oh.

Sure enough, Monitor goes for a figure-four. It’s an advanced move, but he’s got the technique right. He spins around to cinch it in, but Bird Boy is able to use his boot to kick him off. Phew. The hero pushes up to rise, but the rookie heel is back with a boot to his injured side. WHOMP! Bird Boy flies to his left, rolling all the way to the ropes. He rolls up to one knee, using the middle rope for support.

Monitor moves in fast. Too fast. Bird Boy lashes out, lifting his right boot in the charging stud’s knee. WHACK! The teen powerhouse cries out and stumbles back. My sidekick pushes up to his feet. He looks wobbly, but at least he’s up. Neither bodybuilder races in. They’re wisely cautious, understanding the risk of making a mistake at this point.

The villain snarls, “Not looking so good, Bird Bitch. All the extra weight you’re carrying is wearing you down.”

“Fuck you. I always look amazing. But if you think I’m wearing down, prove it.”

Bird Boy lifts his right hand for a test of strength. Monitor lifts his left hand and they lock hands. They eagerly lock their other hands, their egos in overdrive. The bodybuilders charge in at each other, bashing chests as they strain against one another. They fight for control. Despite having suffered for the past few minutes and almost going out, my sidekick holds his own.

Monitor fights for control but I quickly realize that Bird Boy isn’t. He’s simply playing defense, countering everything. Using the exact same tricks I use on him to counter his strength. Oh my god. He’s using my training. Despite his power advantage, I can actually beat him in a test of strength with technique and now he’s trying that on the teen powerhouse. Sure enough, the villain is gasping and struggling while the hero is calmly recuperating.

The rookie heel fights, not realizing what’s happening. In fact, he’s emboldened by what he thinks is his dominance. He strains and struggles, using more and more of his strength. Monitor is drenched in sweat, his chiseled physique shining as he works for control. The villain finally gets it, driving Bird Boy down to one knee. PLOP!

Monitor smirks, “HA! I’m the strongest! Muscle beats fat, Bird Bitch!”

Bird Boy looks up, “No, you’re the dumbest. I wanted to be down here.”

Before the villain can process the response, my sidekick pushes forward, slamming his shoulder into Monitor’s abs. THUD! OOF! He pushes up, rising and flipping the surprised rookie over with a back body drop. The teen heel lands hard on his back. WHAM! Bird Boy drops back, slamming his bubble butt on top of the villain’s thick pecs. PLOP! OOF!

With the villain gasping for air, Bird Boy is free to push up then come down with his butt on top of chiseled abs. PLOP! OOF! Monitor moans, “So fat.” The hero growls but doesn’t let himself get distracted. He rises then drives his green pro boot into the washboard stomach. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The heel coughs as the boots finally break through the muscle wall.

Monitor rolls over, trying to escape. Unfortunately for him, he exposes his back to Bird Boy. The hero seizes the opening, grabbing the 200-lbs rookie around the waist and pulling him up into a reverse bearhug. Now we’ll see if Monitor is resilient enough to resist the power of the best bearhug in The Cave. The intensity is already high as the powerful sidekick collapses the teen bodybuilder’s body in the powerful vice.

Within seconds, the villain is gagging and coughing. He struggles to escape. He tries to stomp on the hero’s feet but misses the first try. Bird Boy lifts him up off the mat, making that impossible. Monitor squirms wildly but that only increases the pressure and force. He tries to throw his elbows back but doesn’t have the range to connect. Flailing kicks miss or just bounce off the hero’s legs.

Every second is obvious agony for the teen powerhouse. He gets visibly weaker and his breathing is labored. Bird Boy starts violently shaking him. My sidekick whips around the 200-lbs bodybuilder like he weighs nothing. His strength seems almost superhuman as he dominates his rival. Still, for all the power and domination, Monitor won’t give.

Bird Boy carries the bearhugged bodybuilder closer to the corner. He orders the villain to submit, but the teen heel won’t. Suddenly, the muscle hero twists and bends to the side. He slams Monitor’s head into the top turnbuckle. SMACK! That stuns the rookie stud. He does it again. BOING! Even though there’s padding, it’s not enough to make that not hurt.

The hero says, “Submit or ill knock you out the hard way!”

Monitor moans, “Don’t! Let me go! You wanna be my bitch!”

Bird Boy laughs, “No, I don’t.”

My sidekick slams the teen villain’s head onto the turnbuckle again. CLANG! Monitor bounces off, his body limp. Bird Boy shakes his prey awake, against demanding a submission. The teen heel moans, “I give, I give, I give.”

Bird Boy throws the collapsing carcass to the mat with contempt. The bodybuilder hero puts his boot on the unmoving loser’s dragon tattooed chest. He does a double bicep flex, counting the pin, even though he’s already won.

ONE! Double bicep flex.

TWO! Left bicep flex.

THREE! Right bicep flex with a kiss. SMOOCH!

FOUR! Front lat spread.

FIVE! Side chest.

SIX! Rear lat spread.

SEVEN! Side tricep.

EIGHT! Both arms up, crunching his abs.

NINE! One arm up, abs and thigh. Nice.

TEN! Most muscular with tongue out.

Bird Boy steps off and circles the loser. I’m so proud of him. Not just for winning, but for using some of what I taught him. I feel like this is a match where he could’ve been distracted. Unfocused. Submissive. Instead, he pushed through and won. Maybe part of that is his rivalry with Monitor, but I’m hoping it’s bigger than that.

Who's the Bitch?

“GET OVER HERE!”

Bird Boy waits with his hands on his trim hips. His chest is heaving, revealing how hard he had to work for this win. The aching villain crawls towards him with his head bowed. It’s a slow process because his core is so sore. Monitor reaches the young hero’s boots. My sidekick tells him to stop. He smirks, “Kiss them, bitch. Kiss my boots for real.”

Monitor leans down and plants his lips on the toe of the smooth green leather pro boots. SMOOCH! “Both of them. And you better leave a nice sloppy wet spot.” The teen muscleman tenses but he obeys. The rookie had the rules explained and he agreed to them. He lovingly worships the boot before pulling back. Bird Boy nods as he looks down as his boot.

“ON YOUR KNEES!”

The young muscle villain sits back onto his heels, his head still bowed. Bird Boy moves into his, placing his green-spandex bulge at his lips. “Yeah, you had a lot about kneeling and being a bitch. Guess we know who the real bitch is, don’t we?” Again, Monitor’s muscles twitch and tense. It’s his first time in The Cave and the stakes part is always rough at first when you lose.

“WORSHIP ME!”

Monitor looks up slowly. He sneers but extends his hands. He breathes in deeply as he caresses the thick, sculpted legs before him. His hands slide from the boots up the thighs all the way to the trunks. “Don’t just use your hands, bitch. Use your mouth.” The teen bodybuilder leans in and runs his tongue around the tear drop bulge over Bird Boy’s left knee.

My sidekick laughs, “Fuck, you’ve done that before, haven’t you? I meant for you to use your mouth to tell me how awesome my mighty muscles are. But you can do both. Use your tongue to taste greatness then use it to tell me how amazing I am.”

Monitor looks up and the two bodybuilders lock eyes. The villain hesitates, but he finally says in a monotone, “Oh, you’re so awesome. Your muscles taste delicious.”

The villain goes back to work. He finishes on the chiseled legs then grips Bird Boy’s butt. When Monitor leans in to put his mouth on the obvious hard-on, Bird Boy stops him, telling him that comes later. The young heel sighs, but he moves his mouth to the perfect midsection. He rubs and caresses the eight-pack abs, even tracing them with his tongue.

The loser says, “Your abs are great. Not covered in a layer of donuts at all.”

WHOMP! Bird Boy suddenly clubs the rising villain on his head. Monitor falls back onto his ass. My sidekick drives his boot down onto the shocked heel’s stomach. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The dominant young bodybuilder stops, the anger obvious on his face. He kneels down, grabs a handful of the scared rookie’s hair and pulls him back up.

“DO IT RIGHT, LOSER! MY ABS AREN’T GREAT! THEY’RE THE BEST! PERFECT! YOU WISH YOU HAD THEM!”

Monitor nods then drops to one knee. He worships the abs again, admitting how awesome Bird Boy’s midsection is. The villain rises then caresses the chest. This time, he’s vocal about how impressive the mighty pecs are. The loser gets into the worship, his entire demeanor changing. My sidekick flexes his biceps as the worship session satisfies both bodybuilders.

Monitor circles the winner. He does a great job on the back and shoulders to finish up with the ass. Very hot. I can tell that he has done this before, but I wonder if he’s ever been the worshipper before? I doubt it, but he’s hard as a rock. However, he’s still not accepting of his fate. As he fondles the perfect ass, he suddenly kisses Bird Boy’s neck.

My sidekick moans. The loser grabs his hair and pulls the winner’s head back. He slides his hand inside the green trunks and finds the young hero’s hole. Bird Boy melts as he goes from object of worship to plaything. He whimpers as he’s sexually dominated. Monitor releases the hair so he can reach around and caress the perfect pecs. Bird Boy cries out, “Oh fuck!”

Monitor whispers seductively, “You’re so hot. Your body is so perfect. You’re a god.” Bird Boy eats it up, moaning his agreement. “Allow me to honor your greatness. You just lie down and I’ll do everything.”

The villain leads my mighty but submissive sidekick to the mat. Oh well, at least he won the match. Monitor peels the green trunks off the ‘winner’. Bird Boy’s cock springs free, hard as a rock as it hovers over his abs, dripping pre-cum. The teen heel tosses the trunks aside then goes to work. He sucks the hero’s rock-hard rod, using his mouth and hand.

Bird Boy moans and writhes as he’s sucked. I’m sure it’s an awesome feeling, but his control is gone. Monitor has flipped the script. The villain goes faster and faster until he suddenly stops and pulls off. With just a few more jerks, the hero cries out and his powerful body visibly shakes. Cum erupts out and up as my sidekick is drained. Ropes of his seed splatter down onto his chiseled eight-pack abs as he’s milked.

Monitor squeezes and pulls until nothing comes out. Bird Boy collapses on the mat, exhausted. He lets out a satisfied moan. The villain just smirks as he wipes the cum off his hand on the muscle hero’s leg. The now-dominant loser slides his tights down off his ass then to the top of his boots. He wedges his thong under his balls so he can play with his cock.

The villain gets hard fast, silently sheathing his shaft as my sidekick relaxes in his post-shooting stupor. Monitor lifts Bird Boy’s legs into the air, sliding into position as he pushes the helpless hero’s legs apart. The heel presses his cock against his prey’s hole, ready to turn his wrestling loss into a sex stakes victory.

As the heel leans in, Bird Boy suddenly slams his boots together, crushing Monitor’s head. WHACK! My sidekick brings his boot forward and pushes the stunned villain away. Bird Boy rises onto his elbows. He smirks at the teen heel shaking out his head. I see his cock powering back up, like he’s ready to go again.

“You really thought you had me? Idiot. I played you. You’re dealing with a freaking genius, boy. I’m hotter, stronger AND smarter than you.” The hero spins onto his knees. He grabs a condom as he crawls to Monitor. “Get on your hands and knees, loser. I’m ready to go again.”

Monitor gulps but he obeys, rolling over onto his elbows and knees. The teen heel pounds the mat angrily as he thrusts his smooth ass up and back. He’s clearly upset at his reversal plan failing. It was a good idea and even I’m surprised that Bird Boy could turn things around. I smile as my sidekick spanks the supple bubble butt. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“You need more squats, but it’ll do. Get comfortable. I saved up for three days before this match. You sucking me off will make this part last even longer.”

Bird Boy forces his cock inside the loser. Monitor moans loudly as he’s penetrated. He buries his face in his forearms, grunting as the muscle hero thrusts in and out. The winner goes deeper and deeper until his pelvis slaps the loser’s smooth ass cheeks. Their muscles tense as the fucking gets faster and harder. They get louder with moans, cries and grunts.

True to his word, Bird Boy makes the fuck session last. He pounds the villain’s ass relentlessly. When he pulls out, it’s not to shoot, it’s to change positions. He drags Monitor up to his feet then flings him into the corner, front first. The villain supports himself on the ropes as my sidekick moves in behind him. The heel gasps as the hero drives inside him again.

Bird Boy fucks the loser harder. Monitor grabs the top turnbuckle, crying out as he’s sexually dominated. The victorious hero finally starts gasping. He grunts, his neck and face tensing. His mouth hangs open and his eyes twitch. I know that look. I’ve made him make it many times. He’s about to shoot. Sure enough, my sidekick pulls out, simultaneously pushing Monitor to the canvas.

The muscular hero tears off the condom. Cum explodes from his uncovered cock. It coats the villain’s body as he lies below the winner. Bird Boy milks himself dry then kneels beside Monitor. He roughly grabs the heel’s thick black hair, using it to force the villain to clean his head and shaft. I can see a look of satisfaction on my sidekick’s face.

Bird Boy pulls Monitor off his cock. He says, “Now you’re going to apologize to The Bat.”

The villain looks confused, “For what?”

“FOR CALLING HIM OLD AND FAT!” My sidekick forces the teen heel to his feet. He uses the hair to push the loser against the ropes, looking out in my direction. He doesn’t say anything as he stares into the shadows. Bird Boy wraps his arms around the villain’s head and neck in a rear naked choke. “I SAID APOLOGIZE FOR CALLING HIM OLD AND FAT!”

Oh great. I’m having Ryan edit that out somehow. If he can’t then we’ll claim audio trouble.

As my sidekick tightens the choke, Monitor gasps. He blurts out, “Sorry for calling you old and fat.”

Even though he apologized, Bird Boy still squeezes on the sleeper, knocking the villain out. He tosses the limp teen bodybuilder’s 200-lbs of muscle to the canvas. As my sidekick dusts his hands, “That’s better. Yeah, he may be closing in on retirement ...” Wait, I’m retiring? “... but until he passes the title to me, he still deserves respect. And I’m going to make sure he gets it.”

The victorious muscle freak flexes as he nods in my direction with a satisfied wink. I’m less satisfied. But let’s think big picture. My sidekick poses, his cock powering up as he savors the victory one last time. He finally hops out of the ring, strutting his way down the aisle after only his second win ever. Hey, it’s a start.

The Locker Room

When I get to the locker room, Pete’s paid him. Bird Boy is stripped down to be Xaq again, ready to hit the showers. I smile at my naked sidekick. He seems subdued, which surprises me. Almost like he’s mad at me. I can’t think why, but he is a moody guy. I ignore it.

“I’m so proud of you, Xaq. After a rough first round, you did an amazing job.”

At my praise, Xaq’s pecs involuntarily flutter as his chest pumps up, his shoulders roll back and his abs contract. He smiles for a split second and his cock bounces up and down. He quickly gets control and shrugs nonchalantly, “Big deal. That loser’s never beaten me at anything. It’s not like he’d be real challenge.”

I see through his act. He’s just as proud of himself as I am of him. I reach my right hand out and grab him behind the neck. I pull him towards me into a big hug, palming the back of his head. He actually hugs me back. Oof. Still strong. He nestles his face in my neck. I tell him that I’m proud of him again as I tousle his hair. That makes him pull away with a whiny, “Stop.”

My trainee shakes it off, getting control. He puts his hands on his trim hips and does a subtle lat spread. He angrily tells me, “I’m not a kid, Cody, and you’re not my dad. I’m all man and I can handle myself.”

I raise an eyebrow, “I don’t think you’re a kid at all, Xaq. Why would you say that?”

“When he was paying me, Pete just told me Valet called me out earlier.”

I shrug, “He did. So?”

“So, I look like a coward because you won’t let me face him. You’re making me look like I’m scared of that little punk.”

“But I want you to face him.”

That stops him. Xaq asks, “You do?”

“I do. I tried to arrange it weeks ago. Moneymaker wouldn’t let Valet take the match but after today, I don’t think it’s his call anymore.”

“Oh.” Xaq thinks then nods, “It was that jobber Moneymaker who was afraid of me.” Xaq smirks arrogantly and his chest rises again, “That makes waaayyy more sense.” He cheers up, happy to know it wasn’t me. Xaq asks, “When’s the match?”

“Well after seeing Valet beat Jamie today, I want him to win a couple more times first. It’ll mean more if he’s more established as a threat. After all, he’s a lightweight. You’re obviously not. But if he keeps kicking ass as a nasty little twink heel then people will believe that he can win. Ryan says that our David vs. Goliath stuff sells more when fans believe that David has a shot.”

Xaq smiles broadly, “Yeah, okay. I get that. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Otherwise guys’ll know it’s no contest. How could that wimp stand a chance against all this?” The young muscle freak flexes for me. I let him have his moment. He ends his routine, “You’re so right, Cody. It’ll be fun to let him run his mouth and beat on jobbers. Act like a tough guy. Act like he has a shot. I love it.”

“Good. You should.”

“But it can’t take too long. Guys gotta know I’m accepting the challenge. I’ve got a reputation as the toughest, most fearless fighter in The Cave, you know.”

I don’t know that at all. However, I ignore it and reply, “It won’t take long. I’m sure I can get him back weekly for the next couple of weeks then it’s your turn. In the meantime, we could film some workout footage of Bird Boy and have you respond. Put it out right after we release his match from today. Fans would love to see that.”

“Sweet.” My sidekick smiles and nods. He suddenly stops, as if taking it all in. I can’t read his face, which is weird because he’s usually not that complex a guy.

I ask, “What?”

Xaq looks at me as he quietly says, “It’s nothing. When Pete said that, I just thought maybe you were protecting me because you thought I’d lose or something stupid like that.”

“Well, now you know the truth. And that you should never listen to Pete. He’s a manipulative troublemaker who will only get your head screwed up then laugh about it.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?”

I hold back a laugh at the thought of Xaq against the 300-lbs beast Pete. I do appreciate the offer, though. I reply, “No, let’s focus on you. I know you’ll beat Valet. If we keep training.”

Xaq dramatically sighs, “Ugh, more training? Really?” I just stare at him. He immediately gives in to me, wanting to keep training, but unwilling to admit he wants it. “Okay. More training. Not that I need it but you’re my boss, I guess.”

“Yes, I am your boss. Don’t forget it.”

I let him hit the showers then head back to the ring area. I am actually proud of him and myself. I’m taking an undisciplined punk and turning him into something. From a muscle jobber to an actual wrestler. I just hope Cave fans don’t mind seeing Xaq win.

The End