Encounters: Model Roommates 2

This is a sequel to ENCOUNTERS: MODEL ROOMMATES 1

"I don't wanna do it. I HAVE to do it, Jordan.”

I hop out of my convertible, which I can’t afford (hey, it’s LA and we all need a cool car). I’m on the phone with my buddy Jordan. Other than my roommate Porter, Jordan’s the only other guy who knows I’m here. Where’s here? A low-budget motel, outside room 9. I just called to let him know I arrived. He questions my sanity.

I don't want to be a wrestler for hire.
I have to be a wrestler for hire.

I ask, “You gonna pay the shortfall in my rent? Cause that's what wrestling this guy is doing. One little play match and I'm back to square for the month. I walk away and I’m homeless.” I listen then say, “Porter’s not taking any more partial payments." He goes off on my roomie, but I tell him, “Be fair. Porter’s right. I’m short every month.” I listen, “I’m not moving. I’m doing this.”

My buddy keeps talking. I interrupt him, "I don't wanna fight about this again. I just called to tell you where I am. I made a deal with Porter and I need the money. What's so hard for you to get? Now I gotta get changed. I'll call you when I'm done. Bye."

I enter slowly. Everything looks okay. The bathroom is at the back of the room. The door is closed and I hear noises from inside. Okay, looks like we're on. The motel room isn’t bad. Clean, simple and torn up with two king mattresses on the floor. On the dresser, in addition to the TV is an iPad and an envelope. I go for the envelope and find my cash. Phew.

I look at the iPad, realizing that it's not showing the time. It's counting down. There are 14 minutes left on it. I put the money in my bag, setting it down on the desk chair. I put my phone on 'do not disturb'. I'm an aspiring model/actor, working to get a break. I'm 22. 6’2". 180-lbs. Broad shoulders and nice pecs. I've worked hard to look this good. It's not easy. Or cheap.

I’m here because I can't pay my rent. My roommate Porter is sending me out as a wrestler for hire. We fought, I lost and so I’m here. (For the whole story, see here.) If this goes well, I can continue to live with him in his beautiful beachfront apartment. I breathe in deeply, relaxing and shaking off all the negativity that led to this moment. All right, time to get my look and mind right.

My name's Travis, but while I'm here, I'm ‘Stunning’ Shane Tatum. I don't know much about what's happening. Porter handled everything. I've never even seen my opponent, but he's seen me and is willing to pay big to wrestle me.

See, I'm also a part-time pro wrestler. I realized pretty early that I didn't have the drive to make it to the top, but I still work a few indie shows to maintain access to their gym for free. I like free. So, I'm filler on the bottom of the card, but when you look like me, you get still noticed. Pics online. Blogs talking about me. I'm getting really known in the gay wrestling world and they don't even know I'm into guys. If they did, I'd probably be even more popular.

I strip naked then unzip my bag. I pull out my good pro wrestling gear. Part of the deal is for me to wear my real pro gear. The stuff I wear in the ring at indie shows and gets posted online. My shiny, sexy, slutty gear as the guy called it when he sent instructions to Porter. It is a sweet look, designed to make me stand out and it does.

While every other guy is wearing more, I’m wearing less. They’re rocking black and trying to be a badass punk. I'm an angel in white. Tight and tiny white wet look trunks over a white thong. Tall white patent leather boots that run all the way up to my shiny white knee pads. The trunks have 'STUNNING' on the front waistband, a gold star on my bulge and ‘TATUM’ on my ass. The guy even made sure I'd put on my white wrist tape, which I like to use as a weapon to choke guys a ton. See, I look like a prettyboy face, but I'm really a cocky jock heel.

The clock's down to four minutes when I'm dressed. I check myself out in the mirror. Damn, I look good in my official pro wrestling gear. No wonder this guy is paying so much. Fuck, I'd wanna wrestle me, too. I put a light coating of oil over my tanned skin. Almost perfect. I pump up my muscles with push-ups and squats then head back to the mirror. Two minutes.

Just one more thing and I'm ready to go. I stretch out the front of my trunks and reach in. I jerk my cock with my oiled-up hand as I look myself over. I'm kind of famous for my bulge which has a mind of its own. There pics of me tenting and bulging like crazy. I can't help it, but this guy is paying big money for the full effect. He's gonna fucking get it, even if I have to fake it.

As I work myself, I think about just how much he must want me to go to all this trouble. I'm so fucking hot. I'm stunning. A star. Yeah. I psych myself up, getting in character, my cock getting stiffer. Shane Tatum isn't shy or nervous. He owns the ring with his big package. Yeah. I lock on a white studded leather cock ring to keep everything semi-hard. It's not part of my official look, but I'm fucking Stunning Shane Tatum. I can do whatever the fuck I want.

All right, gotta get ready. Gotta get right.

Okay, I'm psyched. Porter told me that the guy's name is Bob. Or maybe it's not. How would I know? Porter said he seemed normal and he has a profile on some wrestling sites where guys meet up. My roommate checked him out and he's got good ratings from regular guys. And he's got some cash. The shiny black Maserati out front of this fleabag motel room confirms that.

I'm ready with seconds to spare. I turn to the side. Yeah, that's what gets me extra attention on the internet. A nice big bulge. Everyone fucking loves my bulge. Shane is pretty much a horny fucker who'll stick his dick in whatever hole he can. I get why my bulge gets talked about. It wasn't intentional at first. I got an accidental hard-on one match, but now I kind of feed into it by making sure I'm showing right every time. And Stunning Shane Tatum is showing perfect for Bob.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Oh fuck. It's time. I’m scared.

What About Bob?

The bathroom door opens and I hear music from the iPad on the dresser. Remote controlled. Nice. "America's Sweetheart" by Elle King. Interesting choice. An announcer's voice comes on over the music, "Introducing first, from Lubbock, Texas, weighing in at 200-lbs, the reigning United States Champion, Handsome Hart Mitchell!"

Crowd noise is added to the audio as Bob - sorry, Hart - emerges wearing two-color tights. Oh. Handsome Hart actually is a handsome guy. He’s African American with a thick black beard, hairy chest and solid body. Not sculpted like mine, but nicely shaped. Turns out I won’t have to fake being into this at all.

Okay, I can do this. Yum.

His tights are black down the left leg and hot pink down the right. There’s a pink heart over his bulge and four heart-shaped cutouts running down each side of his legs. He's got real pro boots - left pink and right black with contrasting laces. Hart has thin pink armbands cutting over his biceps and a shiny gold title belt is wrapped around his waist, resting on a good-sized package that sticks out under the belt. It's even more prominent than mine.

Hart struts out as the music plays, "I'm not America's sweetheart, but you love me anyway." He spins and I see a heart-shaped cutout on his right butt cheek. Nice. He shakes his ass at me then spreads his arms, basking in the fake crowd noise. I stand to the side, admiring the showmanship as Hart stands on the mattress. I smile, wishing we had a real crowd. He deserves it. My cock twitches. The 'champ' is getting hotter by the second. I knew from Porter that he was good looking, but he's way better than I expected. All dressed up and putting on a show, I'm actually getting attracted to him. The ass. Furry body. Attitude. I like it all.

Oh yeah, this definitely works.

The audio switches to LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It". My song, so I know it's my turn. I start bouncing and get in the mood. This isn't a motel room, it's an arena. There's a crowd and they love me. I glance at the mirror one last time, adjusting my bulge just like I usually do then wait for the announcer. Sure enough, the audio has my exact entrance audio with announcer and crowd noises over top.

I slowly move to the edge of the mattress, my arrogance high. I lift my arms and swivel my hips. I run my tongue along my bicep then take the role play to a new level. I step through imaginary ropes onto the mattress. Whoa, bouncy. I don't let the flooring ruffle me, keeping in character as I turn and wave my ass at the champ, topping his move. When the music dies down to a dull crowd noise, I turn and move in on the champ.

"Nice belt, but it needs to be worn by a stunning stud." I swivel my hips, swiping his big bulge with mine. He steps back, just like all my opponents do. Nice.

Hart smirks, replying with a deep raspy voice, "This here’s a man’s belt. It ain't goin' anywhere except back in my trophy case. Same place you'll end up if you keep waving that pouch and ass at me, little boy."

The champ reaches back and unfastens his belt. Hart props it up on the table, showing it off. Suddenly, my cock is really twitching. Oh shit. I want that belt. That fake, meaningless, motel room belt. I want it. Hart must see the lust in my eyes, because he says, "Keep dreamin', little boy. You'll have plenty of time after I put you to sleep."

I move to the middle of the mattress and he meets me. We press out bodies together tightly as we engage in a staredown. I look down at him, pressing up onto my toes to increase our height difference. Our bulges press together and I feel the not-so subtle challenge. His hot breath hits my neck and we wait. I’m not scared now. I’m excited.

The iPad suddenly unleashes a bell sound.

DING! DING! DING!

Handsome Hart Mitchell vs. Stunning Shane Tatum. For the Belt.

The crowd noise continues at a low rumble. So far, I've even heard two pro-Hart cheers, “I love you, Hart” and “You're the greatest, Hart” I've also heard two anti-me cheers from a different voice telling me I suck and I'm going down. I'm amazed at this guy’s level of commitment. Best thing is anyone next door will likely think our match is on television. That's how real it sounds.

It's a little distracting, though. My brain is half-thinking about the reality this guy has created as we move in to lock up. A male voice breaks in, “You suck, Stupid Shane Tatum!” I literally look at the iPad, so maybe I am stupid. I decide to act like it’s a real guy to cover my stupidity. I ignore Hart and move to the edge of the mattress. I point at the trashtalking tablet, telling it to shut up.

Handsome Hart Mitchell gets things started, coming in behind me. He grabs the back of my trunks, lifting and pulling to wedge them up my ass. I let out a squeal. The hairy hunk grabs my bicep and spins me around. The champ lifts his boot into my abs. THUD! OOF! I bend forward. Fuck! That voice might've been fake, but that boot sure as fuck wasn't.

The champ puts me in a front facelock. He suddenly falls back, slamming my head down in a DDT. BOOF! Soft. I moan as I playfully writhe on the mattress. Hart puts his shin on the back of my neck. I feel him grab my exposed ass. He fondles and squeezes it. Oh fuck, that feels nice. I writhe helplessly on the mattress, letting him have his fun. He is the client after all.

Hart says, “Small, but firm and round. It'll do.” SMACK! The stinging slap to my ass gets me writhing for real. SMACK! “Wake up, little boy!”

The champ grabs my hair then pulls me up to my feet. I reach to adjust my trunks, which leaves my abs wide open. I get a stiff forearm to my chiseled washboard. THUD! OOF! I lose my air as I struggle to understand the combination of fake like the DDT and real like these body blows. The champ steps over and around me, smoothly locking me into an ab stretch.

I groan as I'm bent sideways, my side obliques stretched out. He locks it in perfectly. Another real move. I'm feeling this. He suddenly adds in powerful forearms and fists, breaking down my abs. THUD! THUD! THUD! I grunt as I take the punishment, my body absorbing what it can, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling. THUD! THUD! THUD! I cry out for real this time.

Handsome Hart releases the ab stretch, but immediately pulls me into a reverse bearhug. I gasp as he crushes my midsection. I try to pry his arms apart, but the champ is really strong. He's crushing me. I feel him grind his cock against my ass. I let out a long moan at that move. He asks if I'm a slut and I can barely deny it. I mutter a threat, but he laughs it off.

The champ lowers his bearhug then grabs my bulge. I let out a higher-pitched whimper as he fondles my manhood with his right hand while grinding my ass. Hart grabs my hair and pulls my head back. He forces me to turn so we're facing the mirror. He puts his lips on my neck and I sink at the erotic attack. Oh fuck, the combination of pleasure and pain, submission and dominance has me weak in his arms.

Hart whispers in my ear, "Look at yourself, jobber."

I moan as Hart controls my head, making me to look at myself in the mirror. I normally love doing it, but now it feels different. It's like he owns me. Hart releases the claw on my manhood and his grip on my hair. He circles in front and rubs my pecs. I don't stop him, feeling surprisingly submissive after being thoroughly dominated so quickly.

Hart nods, "Yeah, nice muscles." Suddenly, he punches me in the gut. THUD! OOF! I bend forward. He grabs my hair and pulls my face up. The champ grabs my cheeks in one hand. He repeats, “Nice muscles.” Then he yells at me, "START USING THEM, BITCH!"

I need to get it together.

I look at him, stunned for a second. What the fuck? This is his game, not mine. He's the one who - oh. I suddenly realize that it IS me that’s the problem. I'm not living up to my end of the deal. Hart didn't pay for a prettyboy jobber. He can probably find those. He's paying for a tough match with a real-life pro wrestler. And not just any pro wrestler. Stunning Shane Tatum. I’d never act this way in the ring. I’d never go down like this.

I push hard against him, pulling free, I roll my shoulders back as I nod and scowl, getting mad, “Big mistake, champ. Now you’ve done it. You’ve awoken the beast. Your belt is mine.”

Hart sees it and smirks, “Better.”

I stare at him angrily, focusing on being Stunning Shane Tatum. I’m nobody’s bitch. This fucker wants me to use my muscles? He’s going to regret that.

The Battle for the Belt Begins. Again.

We circle and lockup. I match his power then push him to the side. I lift my knees into his abs. THUD! OOF! He bends forward, so I grab him in a front facelock. He grunts as I lift up, pressing my forearm into his windpipe. I reach my long arm out then slap him right on the heart-shaped cutout on his right cheek. SMACK! He grunts again. I drop back into a DDT. BOOF!

Hart acts dazed. I get it now. Real submission holds. Softened impact moves. You feel the holds and sell the moves. Getting him with the DDT gives me a free move. Yeah, okay, I’m in. Since he’s staying down, I drive my boots down onto his back. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! He bounces up and down with the impact, grunting with each shot. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

I put my boot on him then walk over him. He lets out a loud, long moan. Nice. He’s feeling it. I grab his thick black hair in my right hand and force him up to his knees. I grab him by the beard with my left hand then drag him around full circle. I release his hair, but keep the beard locked in while I swing my forearm down with a clubbing motion. WHOMP! Hart drops to one knee.

As I use his beard to drag him up to his feet, the champ grabs me around the waist. He runs me back into the wall. WHAM! I sag for a moment, leaving myself wide open for some vicious ab punches. POW! THUD! POW! I cry out as he hammers my six-pack. Fuck! THUD! POW! THUD! I’ve worked hard on my stomach, but I’m feeling these shots.

Hart must have some boxing because he’s working me over like a heavy bag. POW! THUD! POW! I try to block him, but he swats my arms away. THUD! POW! THUD! I try to push him back, but he’s got his legs bent for a low center of gravity. I slide lower on the wall. The handsome hunk backs off for a moment and I fall onto my ass, gasping for air. PLOP!

The champ grabs my boots and drags me across the carpet back onto the mattress. Even thought it was only a few feet, my back stings from rug burn. He lifts my legs then pushes them apart sharply. WRENCH! ARGH! Pain shoots out from my stretched groin. I try to close my legs, but Hart drops down with his boots across my thighs. He starts back in with fists to my abs. THUD! POW! THUD! My abs are red from the relentless abuse.

I force myself to sit up, quickly crunching up and driving my fist deep into his stomach. WHOMP! He grunts loudly and I succeed in slowing him down. I reach behind his head and pull him forward into a headlock. I’m able to pull him far enough that he’s off my legs, enabling me to bridge and flip us over. I keep control of his head while I slide my legs inside his, locking on a grapevine.

I say, “Let’s see how you like doing the splits!”

I spread his legs out wide and he groans. With my longer legs, I’m able to really pull him open. From the pained moans, it sounds like the champ is strong, but not flexible. He fires his fists into my sides. POW! I grunt, releasing his head. I grab hold of his wrists and pin them over his head. We struggle for control. He’s powerful, but I’ve got position.

As sweat drips from my face onto his, I calmly say, “One.” His eyes go wide as I pause then say, “Two.” I pause. Then, as I’m about to say three, he thrusts his left arm up, twisting with all his power. It’s enough to twist his shoulder up. I get his wrist again. I lean down and dig my elbows down onto his shoulders. “One.” Pause. “Two.” Again, he powers his shoulder up. Damn.

I fight to get him into an armlock, but now he’s fighting hard. I get pushed off. He tries to roll on top of me, but I roll all the way off the mattress into a crouch. He freezes and backs up, realizing the danger. Hart nods. He does a squat to test his groin. The way he springs back up tells me he’s just fine. Too bad. The pro wannabe is definitely not looking to be a jobber. Too bad.

Matching him, I squat and stand up, too. Yeah, I’m good. I reach in and adjust my bound junk. He smirks, “That ain’t gonna help you, little boy.”

“Nothing little about me, old man. After I take your belt, you’ll find out.”

Hart just raises an eyebrow. For the first time, he looks unsure. There are no stakes to this match, but the threat just came out. I couldn’t help myself. After I beat him, I bet he would go for being fucked. He’s hot and getting hotter. And his ass is definitely fuckable. However, neither of us say any more about it. He’s attracted to me, which is why he’s paying. I just never expected to be attracted to him. Stop. Keep focus, I roll my shoulders back. Wrestling first.

We step onto the mattress, moving in. He lifts his arm for a lock up. I kick my left boot up, but he’s ready for it. He whips his hands down and grabs my boot. Hart lifts my leg up high and fast. I lose my balance and topple onto my back. BOOF! Using my leg, the champ flips me over into a single leg crab. I cry out as I’m folded in half. He sits back and I really feel it.

I try to push him off but it’s hard to get enough power on the mattress. Hart taunts me, telling me to give. I refuse. He tells me it can get a lot worse. I tell him this is nothing. He laughs as I feel him adjust my leg, locking it tighter under his right armpit. His right hand grips my knee, pulling my foot closer to my head. I still don’t give. I try to twist free, but it hurts too much.

Hart slides his left hand down my leg seductively, caressing my smooth, shaved flesh. It tingles and I whimper. He laughs, “Little boy likes that?” His fingertips tickle my inner leg. I twitch and gasp. I’m in pain, but my mind is focused on the caress. I try to power out again, but I freeze when I feel his other hand cup my bulge. I moan, half suffering and half encouraging.

The grip on my pouch stays soft, even tentative. I notice that the crab eases a little, so I moan louder in an encouraging tone. He squeezes lightly and I moan louder and longer. I whimper in a sexy voice, “Oh, god. Oh, you fucking cheater. I’m going to make you pay for this.” Hart snickers and I know he reads me right. His hand goes to work, toying with my bound manhood.

The champ has me hot, but the crab is barely on. Hart intended the fondling to distract me, but my playing along has distracted him more. I enjoy the feeling a little longer then suddenly kick my leg and twist free under the handsome hunk. He’s surprised as I push on his ass (ooh, firm) and send him flying forward off me. He lands face down, half off the mattress as I scramble up.

Hart rises, turning to face me, but I move with him to stay behind him. I come up then force him into a full nelson. I stay off the mattress to keep my footing, but I hold the champ over it. He pushes off to try to drive me back, but the soft springs weaken his counter. I squeeze tighter then lean back, using my height advantage to suspend him in the nelson.

I lower him back down, but immediately shake him back and forth. The handsome hunk sags in the hold. I squeeze tighter to weaken him even more. Without warning, Hart throws his body forward. He’s powerful enough to pull me forward with him. I ride up onto his back, my feet leaving the floor. Hart spins and we topple onto the mattress. POOF! Even though the landing is soft, with Hart’s 200-lbs crashing down on top of me, I lose the nelson

Hart rolls away. We rise up fast. The heart on the front of his tights is distorted. He’s getting hard. Looks impressive. I adjust my bulge again, waving it in his direction. He smirks, “Dangerous game, little boy. We got rules. Better stick to ‘em.” I laugh his threat off, but I’m definitely turned on by the handsome, sweaty muscleman. I can’t wait to stand over him, wearing his belt, my boot on his hairy chest.

I tell him, “I can’t wait to flex over you. My new belt around my waist. My boot on your chest. Out with the old, in with the new.”

The champ snarls, “A lot talk for such a little boy. Not much else.”

Hart's still looking for more?
Get ready for more, 'champ'.

More Than Talk.

We charge into a lockup. No tricks this time, just man-on-man pressing and shifting. We fight for control. He tries to pull me down. I try to shift him left then right. We’re grunting and sweating, but not getting anywhere. I let him push me down to one knee. As soon as I kneel down, I use the spring of the mattress and all my strength to push up. I drive him into the wall. BAM!

I pin him to the wall with my forearm across his chest. I draw my hand back then drive it into his abs. THUD! THUD! THUD! He moves to push me off, but I grab his right arm and pull him away from the wall, using his own momentum. As he stumbles forward, I trip him. He falls face down onto the mattress. BOOF! I leap forward, slamming my butt onto his back. PLOP!

Hart squirms under me, but he can’t stop me from pulling him up into a camel clutch. I lock his arms over my thighs. We sink into the springing mattress, which bends him even more, raising his legs behind me the way a mat or ring never would. The champ moans loudly. I pull his head back then whisper in his ear, “How do you like my talk now, big man?”

The champ growls, “Fuck you!”

“I know you’d love to, but …” I tickle his ear with my tongue, “… first things first. Gimme your belt, big man, and we can talk about it.”

“UNH! There are a lot of prettyboys, but - UNH! - only one champ.”

I lean back, increasing the pressure. He moans loudly as I bend his powerful body more and more. The cries get louder and more desperate. I work the camel clutch as best as I can, but he’s a tough bastard. I release him from the hold, making sure I slam his face into the mattress as I do it. BOOF! I rise up, digging my boot onto his back.

I push down hard as I bend forward to grab his wrists. I lift his arms up into a surfboard, forcing them forward. Hart groans loudly as I punish his shoulders. I work him, enjoying the position of dominance as I wear him down. I’ve got to keep the pressure up, but I definitely feel good about things. I know I’m not getting a submission with his, so I let his arms fall.

Hart tries to crawl away, but I press down with my boot and flatten him again. SPLAT! I reach down, grabbing him by the hair. I force him up to face me then I whip my arms around his waist. I lock him in a bearhug. He moans as I tighten my grip. I crush him against my body. I grind my hips, distracting him with some light frottage. I already know he’s into it.

The champ moans as I torture his back harder while keeping him confused with sexual play. I squeeze him as hard as I can. He groans. I shake him back-and-forth. He grips my shoulders to steady himself. I feel his fingers dig in as he fights through the pain. I sense his hands slipping down, but he surprises me by whipping them up. Hart boxes my ears and I see stars.

I lose the bearhug, stumbling backwards. The handsome hunk moves in, grabbing me in a bearhug of his own. I cry out as he crushes my lean body. I feel it immediately. He’s strong and I’m not as solid in the midsection as he is. My body collapses under the pressure. I grunt and fight to focus. I feel his hard cock press up under my bound bulge. He bounces me up and down.

“You like games, little boy. Me too.”

Hart grinds on my manhood hard. His meat is so hard that he crushes my package. I’m paralyzed, leaving me helpless as he squeezes even harder as he crushes my spine. I struggle and fight. I regain my focus. The champ must sense it. He lifts me off the mattress to stop any counter of mine. I suffer in the suspended bearhug but then he throws me down. BOOF!

I writhe on the mattress. I wish I was acting, but my back is definitely feeling the impact of the abuse. We’ve been at this for a long time. I figured that was to my advantage, but somehow the older, bigger amateur looks fresh. I can’t believe I’m wearing down before him. Hart drives his boot into my abs. WHOMP! I wasn’t expecting it, so I lose all my air.

The handsome hunk grabs me by the hair. He pulls me up. When I reach one knee, I rise up fast, driving my shoulder into his abs. THUD! OOF! I force him backwards into the wall. WHAM! When I stand, I slam my forearm onto his chest. WHOMP! The champ shakes it off, but this was all just setup for my finishing combination. I spin around, pressing my back into him.

I grind my ass on top of his bulge. He moans. I taunt him, “Just a taste of what you’re never going to get. Time to find out why I’m the most stunning stud in wrestling!”

As he tries to reply, I reach back, grabbing his head in a side headlock. I run forward, bulldogging him onto the mattress. BOOF! He goes limp, which allows me to force him up to his feet. The mattress can protect him against a lot of moves, but not my finisher. I grab his head and pull it into a front face lock. I swing my hips seductively as I hold him tight.

On the third rotation of my hips, I thrust my bulge forward and yell, “Stunner, baby!”

I turn fast, snapping the champ around for my stunning neckbreaker. Only he leans against my pull. We’re sweaty and I’m careless. Hart slips free, stumbling backwards. His butt hits the wall as I land on the mattress with no champ. I scramble up only to get speared in the abs. THUD! OOF! As he hits me, the muscleman lifts then drives me down onto the mattress. BOOF!

I’m winded from the shoulder. Hart smacks my bulge. WHACK! I twitch and cry out. He mocks me, “Nice try, slut.” I try to roll away, but the champ grabs the back of my trunks. He drags me back and up by them. My trunks wedge up my ass again. He grabs my hair then pulls me back into a dragon sleeper. My arms hang down limp as his arm cuts off the blood to my brain.

I feel dazed as he reaches up and caresses my pecs. He says, “So pretty.” My cock twitches just as Hart drops down, slamming me down on the mattress. He immediately drags me up by my hair then locks me in a front facelock. He grabs the side of my wedged trunks. I’m suplexed over fast. BOOF! The champ somersaults back on top of me into a schoolboy pin.

I bridge up under the handsome hunk, throwing him off. We roll over, but he manages to grab my hair, pulling my face onto his sizable package. HIs powerful legs wrap around my head and he squeezes. I almost black out immediately as he tightens the scissors. Oh fuck, that hurts. I push up on him, but it’s too strong and I’m worn down.

Hart’s manly musk fills my nose and mouth. It’s not helping me focus. As I moan, my lips open and close over his balls like I’m suckling on them. Oh fuck, my crotch hurts. I shouldn’t have bound my meat. I didn’t need to, I’d be hard no matter what. The leather cock ring digs in as I get bigger. I’m tempted to tap. I’ve given this guy his money’s worth.

The champ takes the choice away from me. He opens his legs. I don’t move, my face just resting on his impressive manhood. I hear him laugh, “Pathetic.” The handsome hunk grabs my hair as he slides out from under me. I’m dragged to my feet. Handsome Hart Mitchell pulls me into a kiss on the lips. Mmmm. I go with it. He pulls away then taps my right cheek. TAP! TAP!

“You tried your finisher. Now try mine.”

The champ whips his arms around my head. He pulls me in close to him. As he grinds his meat on mine as he tightens his grip. I’m locked in a kiss of death sleeper hold. I realize what’s happening too late. I push on his solid body, pressing on his sides to try to break free. I can’t budge him. Hart tightens the sleeper and my arms fall to my side.

I feel him adjusting the pressure. Through my wavering focus, I realize he could put me out any time he wants. Hart is toying with me. I’m his toy. Bought and paid for. The champ is the man. I’m his little boy. No. Yes. My mind reels as I have these strange primal thoughts. I can’t control them as I fade in and out. My body is limp. My legs are barely able to keep me standing.

Hart whispers, “Thank you.”

Everything goes black.

Going Above and Beyond.

I wake up to see Hart on top of me. He's got me in a schoolboy pin, his big bulge on my chin. He's got the title belt back around his waist. The champ flexes then smiles at me, "Thanks, this was awesome. Slow start, but once you got into it, it was so worth it." Since the last thing I remember is being knocked out in his Kiss of Death sleeper, the change from Hart to Bob is sudden for me.

I don't like it.

The champ moves to rise, but I put my hands on his thighs and pull him back on top of me. He looks surprised but goes with it. Sex wasn't part of the deal, but I can't let Hart go yet. I lift my head and kiss his bulge under his title belt. His eyes go wide as I open my lips and suck on his massive pouch. He moans then whimpers as I suckle on his manhood through the thin spandex.

I lie back and look him in the eye, "I lost. And we both know that belt isn't all you won, champ. Handsome Hart Mitchell, you beat me. The stipulations of this league are that I'm all yours. Right here in the ring. In front of this crowd of horny men."

Bob's eyebrows rise. He hesitates, unsure if I really mean what I mean. I run my hands on his thighs, seductively, then reach around to grip his ass. I look him in the eye then come right out with it. “Looks like you get to add my ass to your trophy case after all, Mr. Mitchell. Sir. Just like you said you would.”

I see him nod then switch back to Hart-mode. He says, “That's right, little boy. I own you. Show me how much you love the champ.” Hart leans forward, giving me better access. The champ moves his hips, rubbing his package on my face. I moan with pleasure, my mouth open and my hands pulling his bulge into my face harder. Fuck, I want him to take me.

Hart slides off me. He heads to the iPad and restarts the crowd noise. Yeah, this is happening and it’s happening in the ring in front of everyone. He returns, reaching down to my trunks. The champ tentatively cups the front of my thong. I'm obviously semi-hard, stretching it out from my body. I lift my hips into his hand and moan, encouraging him to just go for it. The stud can't resist me, either. He peels my trunks and thong off, exposing my meat, still wrapped in the white leather cock ring. I hear him gasp.

The champ whispers, "It’s beautiful."

I smile, appreciating his awe. He grabs my cock then lowers his mouth. Hart slowly engulfs my shaft, tasting me. I hear him groan as he savors having my dick. I'm kind of a slut, so a lot of men have worshipped my manhood ever since I lost my virginity as a horny 15-year old. I've heard how great my cock is ever since, but right now Handsome Hart Mitchell's reaction means more to me than all the many others.

I writhe on the mattress as he owns my cock. I encourage him with moans and soft cries of 'yes' and 'oh god'. I grab his head, guiding him as he sucks my cock. I call him ‘sir’, ‘champ’ and even throw in a ‘master’ as he works my meat. He caresses my body with his hands. I don't need to guide him in that at all. Hart has me writhing under him, moaning helplessly. The crowd cheers.

The champ pulls off. My cock falls towards my stomach, but bounces back up, hovering high and proud. Hart rises then summons me with one finger. I obey, spinning to my knees. He orders me to polish his belt. I lean in and kiss it. I mouth it, worshipping the golden symbol of his dominance. Fuck. I must do a good job, because his rod is so hard that it pushes into my neck.

I get told to go lower. The tights are straining to hold his cock. I suck him through the single layer of thin, stretched spandex. I rub his legs and even squeeze his butt. I've got the front of his gear soaked and clinging to his cock. I can make out the vein in his shaft and the exact shape of his head. I want that cock. I trace it with my tongue then moan, “Oh god, it's a monster, sir.”

Hart laughs as he unfastens the belt then tosses it on his shoulder. He flexes one arm as I look up at him, helpless and obedient. I'm made to peel down his tights. I expose him and his huge cock flops free. The thick slab of beef beats mine in length and girth, if not in perfection. On command, I go to town on it. The champ groans encouragement as he holds my hair.

I deep throat it, pressing my nose into his trimmed black pubes. I fondle his balls with one hand as I grip his right butt cheek with the other. I work slowly, but expertly. Hart struggles to remain in control as I edge him. When I taste pre-cum and feel his cock pulsing, I slide off. He lets me, knowing that any more will drain him dry. We lock eyes and I nod, silently inviting him to take my ass. He nods back, so I crawl like a good dog to my bag, grabbing protection and lube.

When I return, the champ has his tights down to his ankles and his title belt back on. Oh fuck. I call him master as I prep him then I fall onto my back. I lift my white boots up into the air and he grips my leather-wrapped right calf. He uses his other hand to lube me up and I'm moaning loudly. Hart toys with my hole, getting me to actually gasp and twitch. Oh fuck, he's good. He's actually good.

Handsome Hart lifts my other leg and slides inside me. I gasp as he pounds my hole. I writhe as the champ owns my ass. He breeds me hard. The belt slaps against my flesh on every thrust, reminding me that he beat me. Easily. Despite him being the amateur and me being the pro, he's the better wrestler. The better man. This fact has me gasping and my cock throbbing.

My mind is fully into the roleplay as I beg him to add me to his trophy case. The sir and master stuff flows freely as I whimper like his cock is tearing me apart. I'm all-in on this as fantasy has become reality. My enthusiasm has him gasping, too. He’s calling me a poser and a loser, mocking me for ever challenging him. I apologize for ever thinking I was man enough to be in the same ring with him. That does it.

Hart pulls out. He rips off the condom and immediately shoots all over my balls and taint. His load is quickly drained as he gasps. I feel him press his head into my balls, wiping the final drops off on them. Oh fuck, I love that. I’m edged close, too. I need to explode. I go to grab my rod, but the champ stops me. I look up with shock. Come on, man!

The champ says, “I own that cock, little boy. It's too beautiful for me to miss out on.” I'm confused. He crawls to my bag, reaching into the same pocket I went into. He fishes around the pulls out protection. He tosses it onto my chest, “Hurry up, boy.”

I don't need to be told twice. Hart spins around onto hands and knees, presenting himself to me. I'm covered and at his hole in seconds. I lube him fast, feeling my load still pressing to escape. I slide inside him and the champ groans loudly. He stays in command, controlling me on pace and depth. I'm so close, but he's making me slow down. I beg him to let me finish, but he laughs, “No.”

Luckily, the winner is a nice guy. He relents seconds later, telling me to go faster. Hart orders me to cum inside him. Literally two seconds later, I gasp and erupt. I shake and shudder as I empty my massive load. Oh fuck, I'd been edged hard and now, my release won’t stop. I finally finish then slide out and collapse onto the mattress. My cock softens inside its full latex prison and I just lie there, unmoving.

Handsome Hart Mitchell rises and plants his boot on my chest. He flexes over me. “Little boy, you just earned a rematch. And now that I know you and what you’re into? Next time I'm coming prepared to really own you. You want that?”

I moan, “Yes, sir.” My cock powers up again. He laughs and kicks it around with his boot. I writhe as he toys with me. He shakes his head, ordering me to put the room back together. Once again, I can only say, “Yes, sir.”

As he struts to the bathroom to clean up, Hart turns and says, “If you work fast, you can join me in the shower.”

Back at Home.

When I get home, I find Porter decked out in shiny red squarecuts. Fuck, he's so irresistibly sexy. He turns to look at me as I toss the envelope with the money on the coffee table. Porter holds out his hand and signals me to hand it to him. I do.

Porter's waiting for me.

Like a good pimp, he counts it and nods, “Looks like we're finally square for this month. You going to be good for next month or should we start looking for opportunities?”

I shrug, playing it cool, “Whatever. I could go again. Get ahead of things.”

Porter nods, “Okay, I had a couple of more options. Not as much money as Bob, but decent. I can go over them with you, see what you want to do.” I just nod. He looks at me, “How'd it go?”

“Fine. It was a job. I wrestled the guy, just like you wanted. The client seemed happy.”

Porter looks at me without any expression. He says, “Bob called me.” My eyes flare, but I keep under control and don't say anything. My roommate breaks into a smile, “Yeah, don't play, T. I told you that you were worried for nothing.”

I refuse to give Porter any slack, which is hard because he’s so fucking hot in nothing but shiny red spandex squarecuts. “You got lucky.”

My roommate flexes in victory, “No, YOU got lucky because I did my homework. Real lucky.”

Porter thinks he's the man.

I fold my arms across my chest, pissed that Porter knows I had sex with the client when I didn't have to. And he might even know that I didn’t just have sex with Bob, I’m the one that started it. I begged for it. He already knows I'm a slut, but I didn't want him to know how much I liked this private match. It makes it seem like all my objections were based on nothing. And it cements our pimp-whore relationship when I want us to get back to being equals.

Porter moves in and grabs me. He pulls me closer. I look away, so he takes me by the chin. He looks into my eyes, “Look, I know things have been tense around here, but I'm on your side, T. You wanted to keep living here. Now you can. I care about you. I'd never ever put you at risk.”

I admit, “I know that.”

“Looks like you're stuck living here with me for another month, so how about a truce?”

I can't stay mad at him when he smirks at me like that, “Well, okay.”

“Good. You're going to like finally being ahead on bills.”

“Technically, I'm not ahead yet. Just caught up.”

“No, you're ahead. Bob zelled me a nice little bonus for you ‘going above and beyond’. And he said he's saving up for a rematch. At his place this time. He's hoping you're open to it?”

My manhood twitches, but I just shrug, “Maybe. If I need money.”

“Okay. I told him I'd give you his number and leave it up you guys to work out.”

“What? You’re trusting me to handle my own matches?”

“I'm out of the pimping business. From now on, I'll help you find guys, but you're in charge. I just wanted you to give it a chance so you could keep living here. And now you can.” I'm shocked. Porter leans forward and kisses me. He pulls back and says, “Yeah, you must've really been something special, buddy. How about you show me what ‘above and beyond’ means?”

I nod, unable to resist a flirty Porter. I pull him to my bedroom like the past week of tension never happened. I take my weight belt then slide it around his waist backwards. He looks confused but goes with it. I tell him that’s his title belt as I strip down then pull on trunks. As I lie down on the bed. I get him on me in a schoolboy pin with his bulge at my chin.

When we're in position, I say, “So, imagine you're the champ. You just knocked me out and this is me waking up.” Porter raises an eyebrow. “Just go with it. You wanted me to show you.”

I close my eyes then slowly open them I re-create my moment with Hart. It doesn't take long before we go off-script, getting romantic as ourselves. My roommate takes my ass then I take his before we end up cuddling on my bed, spooning with his back against my torso. I kiss his neck and he grips my forearm. We don't say anything, but we don't need to.

As we lie there, Porter telling me he cares about me is echoing in my head. I've wanted to get more serious with him for so long, but he wasn't interested. Now, here we are in a tender embrace after a long, sweaty fuck session. I'm surprised when Porter spends the night in my bed with me. I don't bring it up, because I don't want to jinx things. Maybe he's just tired.

In the morning, I wake up first and just lie there. I carefully pull the sheet towards me, revealing his perfect ass as he sleeps on his stomach. I relax and quietly enjoy the view. How the heck did being a wrestler for hire turn into having Porter in my bed? What does it say about me that I liked it? What does it say about him that it made him more into me? Does it say anything? Does it mean anything? I really wish I was smarter to figure this shit out.

Of course, I'm glad we're on good terms again, but I'd be lying if I said I understand exactly how good of terms.

The End