-----
THE CAVE. LOCKER ROOM.
NARRATOR: CHRIS/MASTER PEACE
“Plus one? I’m not your fucking date to a wedding, Chris.” My buddy asks, “Is that really what they call it?”
I shrug, “Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t know why I called it that. They don't call the guy standing at ringside anything specific. The twink you’re countering is called a valet.” Street makes a face. Yeah. He’s not a valet. I suggest, “Bodyguard? Manager? Enforcer? Equalizer?” None of it changes the look. “What would do you want to be?”
“Paid. That’s all I wanna be. It’s the only reason I’m going to stand around, dressed up in a mask and trunks, threatening some twink while you kick his man’s ass. Cody said they pay right after the match. You better, too.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’ll get paid as soon as it’s done and we’re back in the locker room.”
Street is a work buddy. That’s his last name. His first name is a family name that he hates. It’s treated like a secret. Eventually, we all learn it, seeing something where it’s printed but it’s never, ever said. He’ll kick your ass if you call him any variation of it. The guy is a beast. 34, 6’2” and 235-lbs. He’s built, spending his days working hard and his nights working out.
Today, I’m wrestling for The Cave. It’s good pay, too. And I like it. Been doing it for just over six months. Sweet gig. And it opens doors for my escort side. The Cave is a gay-oriented, superhero-themed wrestling video site. I wrestle as Master Peace. Guys find my escort profile pretty easily. Cave fans pay well and usually want things like roleplay where I can charge extra.
That’s where Street comes in. Part of the deal is that Moneymaker has this twink at ringside named Valet. He’s only 5’9” and 150-lbs. Who cares, right? Yeah, no. The kid is tricky as fuck. He distracts, interferes, and cheats. He’s like a Chihuahua - vicious, annoying, and will bite your ankles if you let him. Moneymaker can’t win without him, so I got Street to take him out. There’s nothing that little bitch Valet can do to him. And if Val tries, he’s gonna end up wrecked.
Luckily, Cody and Ryan, owners of The Cave know the deal, too. They let it go because the fans love it. That’s why they pay Valet when he’s ringside and they’ll pay for whoever’s with me. I don’t have a ton of friends who can kick ass and will spend an hour doing a gay porn shoot as my wingman. Street is my guy, and the cash was enough to get his interest.
Street lifts the large shiny metal helmet, “Do I really need to wear this?”
“You can wear whatever you want, but that’s a replica of Peacemaker’s helmet. I’m Master Peace. You hated my suggestion -”
“Do I look like a fucking Dove? Dove. That’s some bullshit.”
“- so I asked Cody to offer up a few options. I went with Agent Peace. Blue trunks. Red boots. Silver helmet.” Street slides the helmet on. I can tell he hates it. “If that sucks, Cody’s other options are in those lockers. Boots below. Just fucking pick one. You’re ringside, so the name will probably only appear on the website. You want a mask, right?”
“Not really, but I gotta fit in, right?” Street looks through the locker. He pulls out a red mask that’s like Spider-Man, but without the webbing. “This is cool.” He tries it on. “I can see, but it’s gonna be hot. And guys might think I’m hiding my face because I’m ugly.”
Street says, “Wait. What’s this?” He pulls out an upside-down baseball cap with little red trunks and a domino mask inside. “It’s a note from Cody. ‘My reco. Based off the DC hero ARSEnal’.” Street nods, “Yeah, this is more like it. He capitalized ARSE. Love this guy. Red’s sexier than blue. I rock trucker hats. Yeah, good call, Cody.” He holds up the tiny trunks, “I’m doing it.”
I don’t care. I nod, “Yeah, looks great. All I care about is you handling Valet. Cody said you were good in the ring.”
“That’s because I am.” Street starts to change. The trunks are a size too small. Maybe two. They ride up his mountainous ass and can barely contain his big package. My buddy replies, “Cody also said I might get humiliated and plowed.”
“You won’t.”
“You keep saying that, but he thinks I might. Even asked me if I’d ever been fucked.” I laugh at that. Street rolls his eyes, “Fuck off. I told him the truth. Told him how you set me up and that I’m a whore who gets fucked all the time. For money. Told him my bottoming rate and offered him a 10% discount. Even offered to waive my usual big dick surcharge.”
“Did he accept?”
“Naw, but I wasn’t really trying to get him. I felt his meat. Guy’s too big. I don’t wanna get a sloppy cunt.” I laugh. Street says, “Even knowing I’m a whore for hire, he still wouldn’t let me do this until I said I was cool with being treated like a bitch by these assholes if you lose. Guess he thinks I got an attitude that’s gonna be trouble.”
“You do.” Street laughs at my jab, but we know it’s true. I thought about it, too, but I need backup. Besides, I’m not gonna lose. I say, “You’re here, so you must’ve convinced him.”
“Yeah, I did. Cody and I think alike. We’re real simpatico. Once I told him you’re paying me extra outta your share if that happens, he knew I’d be a good boy.”
“Yeah, about that …”
Street scowls at me, “Don’t be trying back out.”
“I’m not.” I was, but I realize that it’s too late. Street will walk.
“Good. Besides, it’s your fault.”
“How so?”
“You didn’t warn me about Cody. I figured I was meeting some ugly loser who set this shit up to be near hot guys. Figured he was just trying to get off by feeling me up. I wasn’t ready to negotiate with a big-dicked alpha businessman. Guy’s a stud like me. If I’d known what I was facing, I’d have prepared better and gotten him to pay me. Instead, you gotta do it.”
I roll my eyes, “Cody was never going to pay you more.”
“We’ll never know.” Street pulls out a piece of paper and a magic marker, “Which side of me do you think will get the most screen time?”
“Why?”
“Cause you’re gonna write my deets on me. That way guys who’re jerking off to the match know how to find me.” Street hands me the marker, “Do chest AND back. To be safe.”
“I don’t think that’s allowed.”
“Ain’t no rule against it. I read all the shit they made me sign real carefully. This is a permanent marker, so it’ll take a couple of days to wash off. Nothing they can do, unless they wanna delay shooting and they still gotta pay me for today if they cancel.” I take the paper and marker. “Take your time. No mistakes. And do it big. In capital letters. Make it easy for the horny fucks.”
I look at the paper. There it is. His whore profile ID with the URL underneath. Cody might kill me for this, but I need Street at ringside. I’ve lost two matches in a row and was humiliated in a side video they released. My rep has taken a hit. I don’t wanna be known as a muscle jobber like Miguel. Okay, done. If Street is on camera at all, viewers will see the name.
I bounce around, waiting to be called.
“You look psyched, Miguel.”
“Damn right, Cody. I’m motivated for this one. Time to remind guys what Moneymaker can do.”
“Awesome. Great to see you Ike your old self again.” The Cave boss looks between me and my buddy Val. “You guys are ready early.”
It’s true. I’m in my heel-villain Moneymaker gear. My gold trunks with the black dollar sign on front are packed front and back. My gold boots are laced up tight. And I’ve even got my gold mask that covers my head with openings for my eyes and nose-mouth-chin on. I’m warmed up, as pumped and solid as ever. My solo career has been up and down, but I’m up for today.
Opposite me, Valerio is ready, too. He’s in matching gold with a smaller gold domino mask only around his eyes. Even my 19-year-old lightweight buddy looks tough, his smaller muscles popping. Val is a tricky twink, perfect as my henchman. He’ll take punishment and sacrifice himself for me, just like I would for him. He had an unconditional crush on me, but now, Val is my equal. Sometimes, he’s even like the real boss of our relationship.
I admit that I need a decisive win. After my impressive debut against my former tag partner-mentor-boyfriend, I got too cocky and too reliant on Valet’s interference. I struggled against guys I should beat and lost too many times. Fans still love me and Valet. Cody says I’m one of The Cave’s most popular wrestlers, but it stings that I’m not viewed as one of the best, too.
Cody tells me, “Glad to see you’re taking this so seriously. You know how to do it. You’ve got the size, power, … training.” I tense at that. The guy who trained me is my ex and an asshole. I destroyed him. I never want to think about Javier again. Now Cody’s put him in my head. “You said you weren’t ducking anyone. I guess this proves it.”
I just nod. I like Cody. I wish he hadn’t brought up Javi, but I like him.
I reply, “I know what you think. You know what I think. Cody’s fun, but who cares? C’mon, let’s hit the showers. I’m ready to go again. Worship and fuck while we clean up?”
Val purrs, “Lead the way.”
“Jae, can you go? I need to talk to Street. In private.”
Jae replies, “Yep, we’re all good. Pleasure doing business with you guys. I enjoyed filming you, Street.”
“Hold up, kid.” Street smirks, “Hope you got my good side.”
“I got all your sides, and they were great. Cody asked me to capture anything interesting that happened ringside, and you gave me a lot to work with.”
“Yeah? Cody did that? Gave me my own special cameraman? Damn, I like your boss, kid. He’s a smart man.”
Jae laughs, “Cody’s my boyfriend, not my boss. We live together.”
Street looks surprised, but then he nods. “Okay. I should’ve figured.” He growls, “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Street. Hope to see you again soon. You, too, Chris.”
Jae leaves. I pace. I’m not sure why I’m pissed at Street, but I’m pissed. Before I explode at him, I need to get my thoughts together. I know there’s something going on. He’s being way too cool about everything. He got outsmarted, tied up, humiliated, and fucked by a twink on camera. I’m out a big chunk of my pay. I just have a weird feeling that it’s not an accident.
Street strips down. He either doesn’t notice that I’m worked up or he just doesn’t care. Yeah, it’s the latter. I wish I had someone as loyal to me as Val is to Miguel. If I did, I wouldn’t have had to rely on a shark like Street. Okay, I’m ready to calmly ask him a few questions. Like how a twink got the drop on him. Why he doesn’t care that I lost. Why I should pay him for nothing.
The door opens. Cody comes in. Fuck.
Cody is probably here to chew Street out for the escort site shit I wrote on him. That can wait. I tell the boss, “Not a good time, Cody. Jae already handled the paperwork and gave us our money. Street and I need to talk. In private.”
Street steps toward Cody, his big dick swinging, “No, we don’t. Great to see you, Cody.”
“You, too, Street.” Cody replies to me, “Jae told me you wanted privacy, but I want to talk to your buddy. I’ll be quick.”
Street puts his hands on his hips, showing off for the Cave boss. “Hey, your boyfriend’s a hot little stud. I get it now.” Street and Cody are really friendly with each other, smiling. Like buddies. Is Cody not mad? Street says in a sexy growl, “Don’t need to pay for my ass when you got that ass at home. And that chest? Fuck, I’d almost do your man for free.”
“Wow, that’s quite the compliment. Jae’s a great guy. I’m a lucky man.” I guess Cody isn’t angry about my buddy’s self-promotion. He looks relaxed. If not that, why is he here? What’s so important? Cody says, “So, potentially some good news.”
My naked buddy bounces his pecs for Cody and adjusts his junk. He smirks. Is he fucking flirting? Street asks, “Yeah? I like good news. What do you wanna tell me?”
Cody smirks back, “I’m sure this will come as a complete surprise to you, -” Why does that sound so sarcastic? “- but Jae had a great idea after the match.”
Street replies in a really smug tone, like he knows exactly what Cody is about to say, “Oh, did he? What was your sexy boy’s great idea?”
Cody grins, “Apparently, my idea of having a third ringside cameraman worked out. Jae says he got some great stuff between Val and you. Sounds like it might make a good video on its own. Big vs small. Bondage. Sex. Chris and Miguel in the background. Looks like you could be the star of your own video after all. We’ll review and make the call if it’s good enough.”
My buddy seductively growls, “Oh, it will be. Sounds like Jae’s sexy, smart, and talented. Of course, I gave him a lot to work with.”
The Cave co-owner laughs, “He is all that and more. I have no doubt he’s right but give us a couple of days to confirm what we’ve got. And we’re using Blue Collar Beef as your name on the site. Unless you want Daddy Beef?”
“Blue Collar Beef. Makes it easy for everyone to use my whore ID as my hero ID.” Street asks, “What exactly does this mean? When you see that the action is good enough.”
Cody says, “It means you’ll get a fresh, bigger paycheck, plus a sales bonus.” He looks at me, “And you might get paid a little for being in the background, Chris.”
What the fuck? Street’s gonna get paid again for MY match? My buddy nods, “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Win-win. I knew you and me were simpatico, Cody.”
“Businessmen gotta business, right?” What does that mean? Cody winks - winks! - at Street, who laughs in response. What the fuck? These two have some kind of inside joke? They barely know each other. Cody runs his finger over the marker on my buddy’s chest, “Cute move. Ry’s gonna have a fit trying to blur it out. Might have to make a disclaimer that we’re not endorsing you or that site.”
Street smirks, “Always businessing. Shocked I’m the first guy to think of it. Tell the big guy to hire me for a night and I’ll prove he doesn’t need to worry about any disclaimer. I’m legit. Five-star rated. Blue Collar Beef leaves everyone fully satisfied.”
“I bet you do. Don’t worry. My best friend is smart. He’ll figure something out. After he amends our contracts.” Cody steps back. “Now I’ll leave you two alone. Thanks for a great afternoon, guys. Great job, Street. You did great, too, Chris.”
I reply, “Thanks, Cody.” The door closes behind him and I’m alone with my buddy again. I was pissed before. I’m fuming now. I forget what I wanted to ask and how I wanted to ask it. I blurt out, “What the fuck was that? What’s going on with you and Cody?”
“Going on? Nothing. Just friendly business. He gets me.” Street taps his temple with his index finger, “We think alike. Fuck, this day worked out great.”
I growl, “Sounds like you were making your own video while you were supposed to be watching my back. While you were playing with Valet, I was getting low blows. My eyes raked. Tied up in the ropes. Moneymaker cheated like fuck, and I had no backup.” I accuse, “Why did you sell me out?”
Street aggressively steps toward me. He replies in a low, calm, but threatening voice, “Slow down there, sparky. Watch what you say to me.”
I’m too tired for a physical fight. Even at my best, not sure I can handle Street. I don’t back up, but I calm my voice, “I just want to know what’s going on.”
“You brought me in to handle Valet. I handled him. Did he interfere at all?” When I don’t answer, Street asks more forcefully, “Did he?” I have to shake my head. “Did you pay me to fight the match for you?” I have to shake my head. “Right. You didn’t. I did my job. I delivered on our deal. So, don’t be accusing me of shit. You mad you‘re a loser? Be mad at yourself.”
“Yeah, but -”
“Stop. ‘But’ nothing. Yes or no. Did I do the job you hired me for?”
I have to admit, “Yes.”
“Did I do it good?”
“Yes.”
I stare at him. He’s not wrong. Fuck. I underestimated Miguel. Valet was a non-factor, which is all I said I wanted. I’m still pissed as hell, knowing that I’m missing something. I picked the wrong wingman. Now, there’s some deal between Street and Cody. It feels like I’m the only loser here, but there’s nothing for me to complain about. Nothing I can point my finger at.
“Got anything else to say to me, Chris?” I shake my head. “Not even after I took time outta my life to come down here to help you out? Not even after I took abuse from a twink for you? Got fucked by a twink for you? Maybe even got you some extra money. Seems like you’d have something to say to me. Rhymes with banks.”
I breathe in and out slowly before saying, “Oh, yeah.” I lie, “Sorry, man, I’m not thinking right. I’m still feeling the knockouts.” I have to suck it up, “Thanks, Street.”
A big victory grin crosses his face. “You’re welcome, buddy. Any time.” He stretches out his muscular body and grabs his towel. “Gotta clean up. Big night.”
To calm myself, I try small talk, “Oh yeah? What’re you doing?”
“Got one of my regulars. Get this. He has a private backyard. I squat in a loincloth as I tear into a big slab of ribs. He sucks the bones clean while jerking his dick. When I’m done, I wipe my hands on my pits and pecs. He licks me clean. I’ll sling him over my shoulder and carry him around, spanking his ass. Ends with me rough fucking him for an hour. Boom! Big money.”
I sigh, “Sounds great.”
“Yeah, it is. Freaks with cash rock. You should try it, instead of sticking with the vanilla top shit you do. I’ll get outta there by 10, clean up, hit the bars. You going out tonight?” I shake my head. “Yeah, you should rest.” Street moves in real close. I don’t move. He whispers, “Hope your head is clearing up. Just in case it’s not, you owe me for getting fucked by that twink.”
Aw shit. I was hoping he’d let it slide now that’s he’s getting more money from Cody for his video with Val. I should’ve known better. Street wouldn’t let his mother slide if she was starving. I agreed to it, so I have to answer, “I’ll do it right now.”
“That’s my buddy. Thanks for bringing me in on this deal. Think I’m gonna like The Cave.”
If you want to see what happened ringside between Street and Val, come back in SEVEN DAYS for a bonus story. Street narrates his experience from his tryout with Cody through the match and after. Street didn't even watch Master Peace vs. Moneymaker, so it's all-new, all-different action.
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THE CAVE. MONEYMAKER’S LOCKER ROOM.
NARRATOR: MIGUEL/MONEYMAKER
“Damn right, Cody. I’m motivated for this one. Time to remind guys what Moneymaker can do.”
“Awesome. Great to see you Ike your old self again.” The Cave boss looks between me and my buddy Val. “You guys are ready early.”
It’s true. I’m in my heel-villain Moneymaker gear. My gold trunks with the black dollar sign on front are packed front and back. My gold boots are laced up tight. And I’ve even got my gold mask that covers my head with openings for my eyes and nose-mouth-chin on. I’m warmed up, as pumped and solid as ever. My solo career has been up and down, but I’m up for today.
Opposite me, Valerio is ready, too. He’s in matching gold with a smaller gold domino mask only around his eyes. Even my 19-year-old lightweight buddy looks tough, his smaller muscles popping. Val is a tricky twink, perfect as my henchman. He’ll take punishment and sacrifice himself for me, just like I would for him. He had an unconditional crush on me, but now, Val is my equal. Sometimes, he’s even like the real boss of our relationship.
Cody tells me, “Glad to see you’re taking this so seriously. You know how to do it. You’ve got the size, power, … training.” I tense at that. The guy who trained me is my ex and an asshole. I destroyed him. I never want to think about Javier again. Now Cody’s put him in my head. “You said you weren’t ducking anyone. I guess this proves it.”
I just nod. I like Cody. I wish he hadn’t brought up Javi, but I like him.
Cody’s co-owner, but I consider him to be the boss. With his business partner Ryan, it’s just business, like scheduling. With Cody, it’s emotional. Yeah, he likes to dig at me, which drives Val nuts, but I know Cody is just trying to push me to do better. He’s a personal trainer in his day job, so it’s his nature. He gave the Val the advice that got me back on track. When Cody says it’s good to see me taking the match seriously, he means it. He’d love to see me be a dominant force in The Cave.
I let him know, “Yeah, just send us out and ring the bell.” I growl, “I can’t think of a better way to show fans that I’m back than to wreck Chris, that lying fucker.”
Cody looks surprised, which doesn’t happen very often. He admits, “I didn’t know that you guys knew each other that well. Chris never mentioned it when I set this up.”
I snort, “Yeah, because he’s an asshole. We met at practice. Muscle guys. Same size. We talked. You know we’re both in construction?” Cody nods. “Went for drinks. Just friendly, right? I told him that my job was wrapping up and I didn’t have anything lined up. He was bragging about how he’s like the foreman at his site. I asked if he could hook me up. He said yeah, but in exchange for my ass.”
“He actually said that?”
“In other words, but yeah, basically. I knew what he meant.”
Val chimes in, “When Miguel told me, I called up and checked him out. The guy isn’t even close to the hiring. He’s got no power.”
I growl, “Fucking scammer.”
Cody shakes his head, “Chris sure knows how to make enemies.” He sighs, “Based on what I saw with his ex, when he wants a guy’s ass, he’ll use any line or move he needs to. I’m glad you didn’t fall for it. Although sounds like I’ll need to monitor him at practice.”
Val asks, “So, who’s his backup?”
“Chris brought in a work friend. Guy named Street.”
Val laughs, “His Cave name is Street? Is he just gonna lie down and let me walk all over him?”
The boss smirks, “No, his Cave name is … TBD. Might be Agent Peace but I don’t know exactly what gear he’s chosen, yet. His real name is Street. It’s his last name.”
I ask, “What’s he like?”
Cody smiles, “Big. Slightly bigger than Chris or Miguel. 34. 6’2”. 235. Sexy. Rugged. Also works construction. Has some good moves. I’d like to add him to the roster after this.”
Val sneers, “Don’t count on that. Miguel’s gonna win, but I’m gonna do my thing, too. After I’m done making Street roadkill, he’ll be done with this place.”
Cody replies confidently, “Don’t you count on that. The guy is cool. He’s open to anything as long as he gets paid.”
I ask, “Is he a hooker like Chris?” Cody nods. “Yeah, that’s another line he tried. Said he’d teach me how. If I gave him my ass. For practice.” I look at Val, “Maybe there’s a way to use that to neutralize this Street guy. Keep him from interfering.”
Cody tells us in a very definite tone, “He’s not going to interfere in the match.” We look at him in surprise. The boss explains, “He’s ringside to stop Val from interfering. He won’t do anything more than that.”
Val snorts, “Yeah, right.”
“Hold up, Val. Cody wouldn’t say it if he didn’t believe it.” Val looks at me like I’m crazy, but one look at Cody’s smirk and I’m confident that I’m right. Cody is telling us something without telling us. I probe for more information, “What makes you so sure?”
Cody says, “Street is a transactional guy. He’s being paid to handle Val. That’s all he’ll do. If Chris wants him to interfere, he will have to pay him extra to do it.” Cody casually adds, “Chris already has to pay Street out of his own pocket if Street gets fucked by Val after the match.” My buddy’s eyes flare. “I’m sure Chris isn’t giving up any more cash to get the guy to wrestle.”
Val smiles big at the challenge and opportunity, “So, wait. Me fucking Street costs Chris money? Guess I know what I’ll be doing post-match.”
Cody adds, “Oh, I should let you know that Jae will be a third cameraman. Working ringside.”
I’m surprised. “Three? Won’t that be crowded?”
“No, he’ll be back, away from the ring. Ry and Pete are doing the ring. Jae’s only filming Street and Val. Capturing anything that happens between them.”
Val looks at Cody suspiciously, “So, you expect something to happen?”
Cody shrugs, “I just want to be ready in case it does. You never know. I’ve told Street, and now I’m telling you. If it’s hot enough, we might release it separately. Maybe on the fan site. Maybe as a video, Of course, if we do, you and Street would get paid for it.”
We exchange looks again. Cody is for sure telling us something and now we know what.
The boss ends the conversation, “All right guys, I’m going to send the Peace boys out first. Get them flexing. I’ll be back for you in a few minutes.”
In unison, we tell him, “We’ll be ready.”
Moneymaker’s looking hot. Damn, he was built to be a jobber. Built to bottom for me. I’m gonna go hard. Make short work of him to get to that ass. He’s been a tease since we met. Dangling that ass like it was the Powerball jackpot. Making me jump through hoops to get it, but never giving it up. Thing is, I know he wants to get fucked, so I can use that against him.
We move in, arms raised. We lock up in a classic collar-and-elbow. Fuck, he’s solid. We test strength, feel each other out. I put all I got into it. Run him back into the corner. CLANG! Yeah, I’m the fucking man. He’s nothing but a muscleboy jobber! Suddenly, Moneymaker pulls and turns. He reverses our position, putting in the corner, back-first. CLANG! What the heck?
The musclestud raises his arms and I match it. We break clean. As he steps back, I admire the thick Latino muscleman. That just made me want him even more. Outta nowhere, he turns sideways and dives in. He drives his 220-lbs into me and slams his elbow into the side of my head. SPLAT! CRACK! I’m seeing stars. Fuck him. It was supposed to be a clean break.
Moneymaker grabs hold of my hair and pulls me out. He scoops me up and bodyslams me down. BOOM! He goes for a stomp, but I roll away. He manages to avoid jamming his knee. Too bad. I rise up fast. We dive into another lockup. I guess he’s feistier than I expected. Really wants me to work for what’s mine. Fucker. I twist and power him into a standing side headlock.
I grunt, “Yeah, feel that? That’s real power.”
The musclestud groans as his right arm goes around my waist. His left feels up my leg. Good. Checking out my muscles will only make him more submissive. The muscle jobber is moaning from a simple headlock. Loser. Moneymaker’s moaning turns into grunting. Next thing I know, he’s lifting me. My boots leave the canvas, and he falls back, side suplexing me onto my shoulders. BOOM! UNH! I roll away again.
We both roll up. My muscles can take abuse, but I’m a little slower. When I reach my feet, Moneymaker is on me with a big clothesline that puts me back down. WHOMP! BAM! Damn, he’s more aggressive than I expected. He comes down with a big elbow drop to my chest. THUMP! OOF! Gotta turn this around. When he bounces off and sits up, I dive at his back. I grab him in a rear naked choke.
I don’t get it right. Moneymaker is struggling against me. He flips me over. I somersault over and up to my feet. We’re both up. I charge at him, putting him down with a clothesline. WHOMP! BAM! Yeah, that’s it! I move in, He surprises me with a kick to my gut. WHOMP! I bend forward and he swings his gold boot into my head. CRACK! I spin around. Fuck!
Moneymaker kicks the back of my knee. WHACK! I go down to one knee, barely managing to avoid falling. He jumps on my back and tackles me down. He rises with his shin across my throat. The musclestud fires big fists down into my gut. THUD! THUD! THUD! My ripped abs are harder than his jobber hands. I throw him off. I need a second. I get to one knee, but he grabs me in a reverse chinlock. Fuck!
I reach back and grab him. I throw him over my shoulder onto his back. SPLAT! Moneymaker starts to rise, but I dive at his knee, clipping it. He goes down again. I keep hold of his leg and stand up. I use his leg to flip him over and lock on a single leg crab. Yeah, that’s it. Time for a reset. The muscle jobber came out on fire, but I’m back where I belong. On top. In control.
Moneymaker suffers. I have my back to Valet, which normally would be a stupid thing to do. I’m grateful for Agent Peace being ringside. I feel Moneymaker reaching. Probably for his boy. Gotta trust my buddy. I crank harder, really bending his back. Moneymaker cries out in pain. He stops reaching. Good. I move to adjust the hold, but the muscle jobber does a push up and kicks, powering out.
I stumble two steps before I can stop. I turn and crouch. I want to see what’s happening ringside, but I should stay focused. It’ll be fine. I can sneak a peek to see what they’re up to. Valet isn’t even looking here. He’s looking at Agent Peace. Fuck, my buddy is actually doing it. He’s making this one-on-one. Now, it’s time for me to take care of business.
Moneymaker is up in the corner. I charge. He dodges my spear. Fuck! I fly past him, right into the corner where I slam into the middle turnbuckle shoulder-first. CLANG! I grab my shoulder and slide forward, resting my chest on the middle turnbuckle for a second. Suddenly, two boots slam into my ass. BOMP! The dropkick sends me flying shoulder-first into the ring post! CLANG! Fuck!
The muscle stud grabs me around the waist. He pulls me back into the ring, forcing me into a reverse bearhug. ARGH! Fuck, he’s strong. Moneymaker lifts me up. WHOA! I fly overhead in a belly-to-back suplex. BOOM! Oh, shit. I need a second. I roll right out of the ring. I realize I’m on the opposite side of Agent Peace and Valet. I look at my enforcer for help, but he’s not even looking at me. He's laser-focused on the twink.
At least I don’t have to worry about the twink. But some help on my side would be good right now. You’d think he’d care. If I go down, he goes down. I stand up. A shadow blocks the light. I look up to see Moneymaker overhead. Oh shit, while I was distracted, he was climbing to the top turnbuckle of the nearest corner. Now, he’s in the air! I have to -
Moneymaker crashes on top of me before I can even finish the thought. His 220-lbs slams down on me. BAM! I try to catch him, but we go down hard. SPLAT! I take all the impact on the mats that surround the ring. I moan under the muscle stud. Fuck, why’d he have to pick this match not to be a fucking jobber. I’ve never seen the guy be this good in the six months I’ve been here.
The muscleman grabs my wrist as he rises. He drags me up to my feet right into a scoop and bodyslam back onto the mats. BOOM! Need to get to Agent Peace. I desperately crawl under the ring. Before I can make it all the way, Moneymaker grabs my white boot. He drags me back by the ankle. I try to find something to grab, but there’s nothing under this side of the ring.
My clawing fingers slide along the smooth polished concrete until I’m back on the mat. Moneymaker drives his boots down onto my aching back. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! I have to lie here and take it. I’m struggling to resist the force of his gold boots. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! When he stops, I try to focus, but he’s giving me no time. I get dragged up and lifted across his chest.
I’m anticipating another big bodyslam, but Moneymaker just holds my 225-lbs of sculpted muscle. Making me think on it? How can I counter this? They probably taught that at one of the practices I skipped. The muscle stud carries me to the corner. He steps forward, slamming my back into the ring post three times! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! Oh fuck, the cold steel doesn’t give as my lower back is smashed into it.
Moneymaker turns and now gives me the bodyslam I was expecting. BOOM! My back screams out as I roll onto my side, whimpering. Oh fuck. He drags me up and forces me under the bottom rope, back into the ring. I roll to the middle of the ring. Cody always says that great champs have reserves. They find a way. I gotta figure out something. Some way. Think!
I can’t believe how intense Moneymaker is. Where’s the muscle jobber I expected? The one who barely beats lightweights? The one who needs a twink to save him? The one who got squashed and his head shaved by a rookie? WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT GUY? I find a way to handle his twink helper Valet only for Moneymaker to figure out how to fucking wrestle.
The muscle stud is looking confident as he moves toward me. I’m up to hands and knees. Gotta look weak. Submissive. When Moneymaker gets close enough, I throw myself at his legs. He wasn’t expecting that. WHACK! I bowl him down onto his side. I’m on his legs. I grab them and rise, forcing myself to move. I power him into a Boston crab. I sit and my back screams. Fuck it. I need this!
I ignore the pain and hold the Boston. Again, I have my back to Valet. Agent Peace has been useless as an enforcer, but he is handling the twink. Gotta focus on me and the muscle jobber. No distractions this time. One peek. Just to make sure. I turn. Ouch! My back doesn’t like that. Agent Peace has Valet in a full nelson. Sweet. I’m safe. Okay, one thing is going my way.
Alone, Moneymaker can’t do shit. Time for his jobber side to come out and play. I’m feeling better. Just need to hold this for another - Moneymaker gets a burst of energy. He fights me, pushing up. I resist, but he twists, and I lose it. We roll to the side. I keep my feet while he goes onto hands and knees. I charge at him, driving my padded knee into his big fat stupid head! CRACK! He goes down.
I need to do something simple. Boots. I drive my shiny white boots down onto his thick stomach and chest. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Red boot prints mark up his abs and pecs. I growl at him, my anger and frustration coming out, “Take that, you stupid jobber bitch!” STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! He just has to absorb my fury, helpless against my relentless attack.
I reach down and drag him up. When he reaches one knee, Moneymaker gives me a big gut punch. POW! OOF! I bend forward. He reaches between my legs and positions me across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The muscle stud flips me over, dropping me onto my back. SLAM! Pains shoots through me again. He drags me up to my knees and I can’t resist. Fuck.
Moneymaker shoves my head between his thighs. He squeezes on the standing head scissors. ARGH! His hands reach under me, around my torso. He lifts me so my feet are planted. I try to flip his 220-lbs of muscle over, but my back won’t cooperate. He lifts, flipping me over. My legs whip around onto his shoulders. Oh no! Moneymaker powerbombs me. KABOOM! I go limp, my arms and legs stretched out. Oh shit, that wrecked me.
I try to figure out what to do, but Moneymaker isn’t stopping to flex or anything. He grabs my head and drags me up and around. I have to follow, unable to stop him. My head goes back between his legs. I beg, “No! Please! Not another powerbomb!” I hear him just laugh. He grabs around my torso again. He lifts me up, but not for another powerbomb.
For something worse!
Much worse!
I’m upside down. My head is locked between his muscular legs. His arms holding me tightly. His chin at my butt. I’m in position for a piledriver!
Moneymaker laughs, “You wish is my command. Not another powerbomb.”
I groan, “NO!”
The muscle stud drops. THUNK! My head hits hard, jamming my neck. I’m barely conscious. When he lets go of my body, I fall down, limp and lifeless. I moan, the only sign of life I can manage. Am I knocked out? Maybe. It’s like an out-of-body experience as Moneymaker rolls me onto my back. He puts one finger - just one - between my pecs.
“ONE!”
I try to will my shoulder to rise. Nope. the left one won’t go.
“TWO!”
Maybe the right shoulder? It’s moving! I can feel it moving!
“THREE!”
It didn’t rise. Pinned. I lost. Easily. I can’t believe it. I was practically squashed. By a muscle jobber like Moneymaker. Without his annoying chihuahua biting my ankles. I thought losing to War Lord was humiliating. This might have been worse.
Motherfucker!
Across the ring, Master Peace looks a little shell shocked. He obviously underestimated me. Now, he’s nervous. I know the feeling. Our stories are pretty similar. He made a big splash. Undefeated for his first few matches. A real stud. Already thinking he’s one of the best. Started skipping practices for his slut hustle. Didn’t think he needed to put the work in.
Runs into The Bat. Lost. Same thing happened to me. Got humiliated next time out. I had a few rough matches before getting humiliated by Red Marvel. When it starts to get away from you, it happens fast. His confidence is shaky. I can see it in his face. Now, he’s down a fall to me. Valerio helped pull me out of my spiral, but his ‘valet’ is only interested in my Valet.
My guy confirmed Cody’s thinking. Valet says the guy isn’t gonna do shit to help his buddy. If they believe that, I believe it. I’ve got my business handled. Up a fall, I can take a risk. Do this on my own. Master Peace thought he was facing a muscle jobber. I can use that. I’ve told my boy he can have fun with the big bruiser this fall. Valet is young, but he’s clever. He’ll be okay.
DING! DING! DING!
Showtime.
I come out slow, make him come to me. When Cody told me that Chris never mentioned knowing me, I knew he wouldn’t be prepared. My grudge is my fuel. He thinks his game is tight, never thinking that what he’s doing is wrong. Master Peace hangs back, too. Cautious. More focused. Now, he might be getting it. But it’s too late. I’m dialed in on him. We lock up. Master Peace is more ripped than me, but I’m more solid. He’s all show; I’m all go. I can match his strength. And unlike him, my ex was my wrestling teacher. A complete asshole, but he knew his way around a ring. The lessons were hard, but they stuck with me. I can still hear Javi, “Don’t waste time! Don’t preen! When you’re up, keep on him! Never let up!”
I immediately turn hard and catch him off guard. I power him into a standing side headlock. UNH! Master Peace grunts in surprise, like he expected we’d test strength. I crank hard on the headlock. He whimpers. I don’t let him counter. I drag him around the ring by his head. He stumbles behind me. Yeah, follow me, bitch! I keep him off-balance, doing a full lap.
I stop use short. It takes him a second to steady himself. I pull hard and hip toss him over by his head. He flips over, landing on his upper shoulders, rolling flat on the canvas. SPLAT! I keep the headlock and land with my full 220 on top of his chest. WHAM! OOF! I crank on the hold, lifting his head up and wrenching his neck. He cries out like a little bitch. Fuck yeah!
Master Peace stomps his shiny white boots. CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP! With the arm that’s behind his head, I force him to suck the side of my pec. I reach the other one out and grab his white knee pad, I pull his leg to me, grabbing behind it. I roll him onto his shoulders in a cradle. My muscular body pins his shoulders, and my arms hold him in place. I decide to count.
“ONE!”
“TWO!”
The asshole kicks out, but I got a solid two-count in just over a minute. That’s gotta mess with his head. Master Peace scrambles up. I’m there, ramming my big gold boot into his ripped abs. THUD! OOF! He bends forward right into a front facelock. I pull forward for a DDT, but he pulls back, leaning into it. The prick blocks it. His head pops free and he stumbles back a few steps.
I give him another gut kick. WHOMP! He bends forward right into my front facelock again. This time, I grab the side of his white trunks. I lift him up. His white boots go up high in the air. I show off my power, holding his 225-lbs of muscle upside down. The blood rushes to his head. I laugh, “Thinking about what a jobber bitch you are? You’re nothing!” I don't want an answer.
I finally fall back, finishing the suplex. His back slams onto the ring. BOOM! Master Peace bounces on impact. He rolls onto his side, holding his back. I grab a handful of his hair. I drag him up to his feet. He fires off a gut punch. THUD! OOF! Wasn’t expecting that! I can hear my ex lecturing me on getting cocky. Fuck! He gives me another one. THUD! OOF! I bend forward.
The asshole follows up with a forearm under my chin. WHACK! I fly up and fall against the ropes. He gets up, but I bounce off the ropes and charge at him. Wasn’t expecting that, were you, Master Peace? I collide with him, hitting a big shoulder block. BAM! OOF! With the momentum from the ropes and my strength, I knock him right off his feet.
The muscleman flies back, landing hard. SPLAT! His legs come up on impact. I grab the left white boot. In seconds, I have him flipped over in a single leg crab. ARGH! After that suplex, this is a good hold. Torture his back. I find the camera and lift my free arm. Bicep flex. Give the viewers a thrill. Watching me dominate. I kiss my bulging bicep. When I look back at it, I wink and make a kiss at them.
I’m feeling playful. I really want to humiliate this loser. I bring my arm down and point at the white wrapped bulge hanging down. I make a pointing motion and look like I’m asking the fans what they think. With a smirking grin, I give the thumbs up like I heard them say ‘go for it.’ I slide my hand down to Master Peace’s balls. I make a production of it, opening my fingers.
The muscleman is fighting the crab. I clamp my hand on his balls. Yeah, that ends that. Master Peace screams out. I work the ball claw, pulling on his junk. He pounds the canvas and whimpers like a bitch. He calls me a few names. I add a twist and he goes wild. I tell him, “Shut the fuck up!” He moans and whines, begging me to stop. I laugh, “You giving already?”
“NO!”
Master Peace manages to kick out. I fall forward, but land perfectly. I spin and rise quickly. The muscle creep has crawled away to the ropes. I take a step at him, but I see he’s ready to counterattack me. I hold up, not wanting to be reckless. It’s all going my way. I plan to keep it that way. He’s rubbing his package as he stands up, using the ropes for support.
“Don’t try that again.”
I wanna ask, “Or what, you stupid muscle jobber?” Instead, I try to cool things down. Better to keep all the intensity on my side. I apologize, “Sorry, man. Your junk is just so hot, I couldn’t resist.” The idiot smiles. That’s the flattery. Now, I challenge his ego. “I didn’t go too hard for you, did I? I thought I was just playing. I tug Valet’s manhood like that all the time.”
Master Peace actually buys that shit. He can’t admit being softer than a twink. He stands up tall, “It’s cool. I’m fine. Just don’t do it again.”
“For sure. I won’t do it again.” As I’m saying it, my fingers are crossed behind my back. Another thing for the fans. Of course, I’m gonna do it again if I get the chance. The asshole is so proud of being ‘an amazing alpha top.’ Brags about it. It’s like he put a target on the front of his trunks. I ask real nice, “You need more time?”
“No. Let’s go.”
We lock up again. This time, Master Peace gets the advantage. Fuck! Instead of pushing into me, he pushes my head down. My momentum moves me right into a front facelock. Before I can react, he pulls my head around, wrenching my neck as we spin around. I’m pulled off my feet, doing a 180 in the swinging neckbreaker. ARGH! I land hard on my back. WHAM!
Fuck! Master Peace is up first. He kicks me onto my back. WHACK! The asshole drives his boots down on my pecs and abs. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The guy’s powerful. Javi’s in my head again. ‘Got too cocky, kid!’ Shut up! Focus! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Master Peace stops stomping me. Oh shit. He’s up in the air, coming in hot with a big leg drop to my chest. WHOMP! OOF! The impact knocks the air out of my body. The muscle creep spins and sits on my face, his shins pinning my shoulders. He wiggles his hips, rubbing his sweaty white spandex trunks over my nose and mouth. Master Peace starts in on me, pounding my thick torso. THUD! POW! THUD! I tighten up, but the boots broke down my pecs and abs enough that I feel his fists. POW! THUD! POW! I grunt into his ass.
Before I can throw him off, Master Peace rolls off. He grabs me around the head, forcing me to sit up. He jerks my neck and spins me around. I’m lifted up across his chest. The fucker is strong, manhandling my 220-lbs. He bodyslams me down. BOOM! I arch my back to ease the pain. He drives his big white boot onto my lower abs. STOMP! I drop back down.
Master Peace forces me up. He scoops me up and bodyslams me again. BOOM! I roll onto my side. Valet’s back is to me. As I’m dragged up again, I think I might have made a mistake letting him play. Master Peace scoops me up for a third time. This time, he drops me over his leg in an over-the-knee backbreaker. KRAKT! I go limp on impact. My spine is aching and back is seizing up.
The asshole mocks me, “Yeah, how’s that feel? GIVE!”
“NO!”
The muscleman pushes on my chin and knee, bending me as much as possible. My head is at the canvas. He eases up to club my abs with his forearm. BAM! BAM! BAM! I jerk and convulse as I hang on his leg. BAM! BAM! BAM! He bounces his leg, sending shockwaves of pain throughout my body. I moan louder. He digs his elbow into my stretched-out abs. ARGH!
I have to do something. Maybe give and get to round three. Better than suffering for a few more minutes and still submitting. It’s all on me. Fuck! I went from tag wrestler to solo wrestler with a helper. I have to submit. As I close my eyes, I see me ex Javi mocking me. ‘Can’t do it without me, can you, kid?’ Fuck you, Javi! I focus. I hear his voice again, but this time, it’s from training. How to escape an over-the-knee backbreaker!
I summon all I’ve got. I crunch up making it only parallel to the ring, but it’s enough. Master Peace wasn’t expecting that. I swing my arm up and grab his face. I club his head. WHACK! The blow stuns him. I whip my arm around again. He leans back so I can’t club him, but I can rake him across the eyes. SCRATCH! ARGH! Master Peace falls back, and I roll off. Free!
Master Peace is wiping his eyes. I draw my leg back and kick out. I hit him square in the jaw with the black rubber heel of my shiny gold boot. CRACK! He flies back, rolling around the canvas. I get up, summoning my adrenaline. Master Peace manages to rise, but he’s staggering and still blinking. Wide open. I’m laser-focused on those chiseled abs.
I run at him. He sees me too late. I spear his stomach with my shoulder, driving him all the way back into the corner. CLANG! I drop to one knee and lift my arm up between his legs with a vicious low blow. SQUISH! URK! Told you I’d do it. Master Peace grunts something, calling me a lying cheating bastard. Yeah, I guess I am. And I’m damn proud of it. I’m gonna win this.
I drive my shoulder into his abs three more times. Master Peace is crushed in the corner. After the third one, he falls onto my back. I stand up, lifting him with me. I bring him down in a reverse atomic drop, making sure he hits my leg balls first before jamming his spine. SQUISH! He collapses into the corner. I stand up tall, chest high as I look down at the muscle bitch.
Master Peace is rubbing his balls. I lift my knee up between his legs. Not hard, but even minimal force has him backing away. I guide his ass onto the middle turnbuckle. I grab his wrists and force them back and over the top rope. I grab his right leg. I pull it out and rest his ankle on the middle rope. I do it with his left, so he’s split wide open. I lift his chin, forcing him look me in the eye.
“Shouldn’t have tried your games on me, asshole.”
“What?”
“My ass isn’t for sale, fucker. And it’ll never be yours. But yours is about to be mine, jobber bitch.”
I start pounding his body. THUD! WHOMP! KAPOW! His legs are locked out wide, but any time he tries to move his arms over the top rope, I grab his wrists and pull down hard. ARGH! I step to the side, unleashing a series of brutal chops across his big pecs. THWAK! THWAK! THWAK! Red marks line his gorgeous chest, and his abs are red from my body punches.
Master Peace moans, “Agent Peace! Help!”
I grab his hair and aim his face at our backup. Valet’s back is to us, but his buddy is kneeling, his wrists zip-tied to the bottom rope. I laugh, “Looks like your man is a little tied up, loser. Looks like he’s my boy’s eager bitch now.”
Master Peace’s jaw drops, “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, no help for you, jobber bitch.” I grab his bulge. He cries out. I taunt him, “You really thought this was enough to top me?” I squeeze and he moans. “It’s not even a handful.”
I step back. I grab his wrists under the top rope and pull them forward. I put my boot on his abs and push. He moans. I kick his stomach multiple times. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! They’re short but effective. I lower my heel to his bulge. He shakes his head, “No! Please don’t!” I smile and pull it away. He relaxes. I walk away, flexing. His head sags, thinking the worst is over.
Yeah, no.
I run forward and kick under the middle turnbuckle. CLANG! AHHH! The impact sends pain radiating up through his bulge. The padding protects him a little, but not enough. I do it two more times. CLANG! CLANG! Master Peace is really whimpering now. Fuck, I love seeing this lying bitch suffer. I love it when I get to go real dirty with an asshole who deserves it.
Master Peace sags in the corner. He whimpers softly, “Please. No more.”
I slap his face, “WAKE UP!”
I roughly grab his head under my armpit. I pull him forward, working his arms over the top rope. I fall back, executing a beautiful DDT. His forehead hits the canvas, and his body goes limp. CRACK! Master Peace crumples in a heap. Bitch is knocked out. I grab his wrists and drag his massive carcass out of the corner. I slither on top of him, planting my crotch on his face.
I slap the canvas, “ONE!”
“TWO!”
“THREE!”
I flex my bicep and kiss it. Sweet victory. And I made it look so fucking easy. Two falls. This is what I can be if I’m motivated. This is what I will be. I look at the nearest camera, “Moneymaker is back, boys!”
I look over at Valet with a big smile. He looks happy for me. So does Master Peace’s buddy.
Interesting.
SPLASH!
What? I sit up. I’m wet. Oh fuck. Moneymaker knocked me out with that piledriver. Son of a bitch. I lost. I lift my knees. AH! My white trunks tighten on my balls. That hurt. They’re still tender. I reach down to rub them. Fuck, that sucks. The muscleman really brought it. I was not expecting him to be so intense, considering we’re friendly outside the ring. Practically buddies.
Speaking of buddies, where is mine? What happened to Street? He was supposed to be watching my back. Instead, he’s a no-show when I need him. From what I could see while I was wrestling, he was outsmarted by the twink. That’s gotta make him pissed. I told him Valet was dangerous. At least I’m not the only one who’ll be fucked by this loss.
“Looks like you’ll finally get what you wanted.” Moneymaker is standing over me with a big smile on his face. I’m confused. “You always wanted me to fuck you.” I’m even more confused. I never wanted that. The winner says, “No, wait. That’s right. You always to fuck me.” I frown. He’s making fun of me. “Yeah, bitch, you were never gonna get my ass. And you never will.”
I spit out, “Your loss.”
“Shut up. Only one loser in this ring. Take off your trunks, bitch.”
I moan as I slide them down my legs. I thought it would feel better, but my dangling junk actually hurts more without the support of the white spandex. I toss my trunks aside. Moneymaker orders, “Get on your knees.” I roll and slide around, facing his gold-wrapped package. My bare butt rests on my heels. He kicks my knee, “Spread them wider.”
I open up my legs. Ow. My aching junk hangs uncomfortably. I move to adjust it, but the winner says, “Nope.” I look him in the eye, silently asking why. He smirks, “They’ll be swinging around while I pound your ass, so might as well just let them stretch out on their own.” Damn. Moneymaker commands me, “Peel down my trunks. Nice and slow. Use your teeth.”
I lean in for the waistband. I bite down in front, pulling the stretchy spandex out a little. The white knot of the lace pops out. I look at it, figuring out which end is the right one. Grabbing the sweaty string with my front teeth, I pull, untying it. That’ll make life easier. I go back at it, working the trunks to find a place to bite down. Thousands of dollars on braces and professional whitening to use them as some muscleman’s bitch. Fuck.
Got them. My mouth fills up with the taste of his sweat. I start pulling. Moneymaker smacks my head. WHAP! I lose my bite on the gold spandex. Fuck. He growls, “I said nice and slow. You tear them up and I’ll tear you up. Got it?” I nod. Great, now I need to grab them again. I go from the side, hoping to get them over his mountainous ass. That’s the hardest thing to do.
Moneymaker lets me crawl around back. I work them down, finally getting them over and wedged under the muscular butt cheeks. Phew. I crawl back around and pick up in front. It takes me a lot of time, but I work them down over his bulge, freeing his hard cock. I duck the thick rod as it flops out. Moneymaker grabs me by the hair and pulls me into his crotch.
“What? You don’t want my dick touching your face? Pretty funny considering it’ll be deep down your throat in a minute. Here, get used to it.”
Moneymaker slaps my cheeks with his cock. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! He powers it into my mouth, going deep until I choke on it. He pulls out. I catch my breath. He drives back in, going even deeper. He pulls out. This goes on until he stays in my mouth and face fucks me like I’m a $2 whore. I’m way more expensive than that, but he’s rough, just hammering the back of my throat.
I do my best, but I’m usually the top. I only suck customers to finish them off and that’s easy work after I plow them. Moneymaker orders me to finish with his trunks. I get them down to his boots. He offers, “Kiss my boots and I’ll let you use your hands.” I move my lips to give the shiny gold leather a peck, but he anticipates me. “Kiss them right, bitch.”
I nod. I breathe in deeply then out slowly. I get to work, using my lips and tongue on the leather. I go slowly to make sure it counts. I move to the other one, spending just as much time and energy on it. When I sit up on my heels, I look up. He smirks, “Good job. You can use your hands.” Relieved that he’s not being a complete asshole, I work the trunks over his boots.
Moneymaker lies down. “Ride me, bitch. I wanna see your junk flopping around.” I grimace, knowing that’ll hurt. I crawl in. I jerk his cock with my hand then add my mouth to get him fully hard. He responds. I lube my hole and sheathe his cock. When I feel like I can do it, I squat over his cock and sit down. Oh fuck! I don’t bottom enough for this not to hurt. His brown uncut cock is thick as fuck, splitting me in two. I finally get all the way down.
More breathing. I start bouncing up and down, fucking myself on his fat cock. I pick up speed. My junk bounces and I cry out from both the thick meat tearing up my hole and the pain of my tortured manhood whipping around. The smile on Moneymaker’s face tells me how much he’s enjoying this. My back starts to ache, and I fall forward, bracing myself on his thick pecs.
“What the matter, bitch? Did I hurt you too much?” I’m not willing to admit that, but the muscle stud smirks, “Think carefully about your answer. Only one is right.”
I swallow and decide to be honest, “Yes. You hurt me. My back is seizing up.”
“So, I really wrecked you.”
“Yes.”
“The loser bitch can’t ride me any longer.”
“No, I can’t.” The muscle stud just waits. He can’t want … he does. I say, “Can we please change positions, Sir?”
A big smile and he throws me off him. Moneymaker grabs my hair and forces me to the ropes. He hangs me over the middle one. I try to keep a neutral spine as I wait. Moneymaker drives inside me, his body slamming into my muscular ass cheeks on the first go. Even though I’m open from riding him, I still cry out. Moneymaker likes that. He grabs my hips and just holds.
I adjust to him inside me, but the hammering starts quickly. Relentless slamming. I sway on the steel cable cutting across my pecs. I hold onto it for my life. The pounding is brutal. I don’t know whatever I did to piss the muscle stud off, but this is personal. I moan loud. Valet must be doing the same to Agent Peace, because I hear them, too. But I can’t think about that. I need to survive this.
My cock is rock hard. Moneymaker is destroying my hole, but he’s hitting me right as he does it. It’s doesn’t hurt any longer. It’s just pleasure. I’m leaking and my balls are contracting. My voice gets higher and my moans turning to gasping and whimpering. Oh fuck. I grab my head and close my eyes, just riding back and forth as the rope is tested by his powerful thrusts.
Moneymaker sounds like he’s going to cum. He pulls out and pulls me back off the rope. I turn and collapse on my back. As he straddles my chest, the muscle stud leans forward and aims his dick. I open my mouth and close my eyes. Just in time to earn a giant load on my face. Ropes of cum splash down, coating my handsome features with the winner’s seed.
When Moneymaker drains his rod, he forces it into my mouth for cleaning. I do my best, sucking on the softening rod. He pulls out. I open my eyes and look up as he majestically stands over me. He plants his boot on my chest and flexes for the camera. He looks at it, “Moneymaker is back, boys. This loser is just the start of my comeback!”
I wait out his posing and exit before rolling over. I see Ryan behind the camera. He makes a motion, encouraging me to jerk off. I look down. My cock is hard and throbbing. I reach down and grab it tentatively. I start pumping and close my eyes. After all I’ve been through, it’s humiliating. I normally feel pride in my manhood, but now, I don’t know how I feel.
Three humiliating losses. Am I a jobber?
My load answers for me, erupting, shooting out across the canvas. I give up my cum. My balls ache, but it’s a big load. A powerful load. My whole body tenses and I cry out. It’s a painful orgasm, but it feels great. I’m shocked, but I can’t stop. I milk my cock dry before collapsing onto my back. I see Ryan towering over me with his camera, capturing the whole thing.
Fuck.
“Great match, guys. You both did awesome.”
Naked in my gold boots, I flex for Cody. I’m still pumped with excitement. I’ve missed this winning feeling. I’m happy Val didn’t get the chance to do anything. I kicked Chris’ ass in two falls all on my own. “Thanks, Cody. Damn that felt good.”
The Cave boss hands Val the iPad with the post-match paperwork to sign. It’s the routine. Cody does a mental evaluation disguised as conversation and we give him a physical report. If all is good, we sign, getting our money immediately. I move to drop my arms, but Cody signals for me to keep my arms up in the double bicep flex. He moves in and feels up my biceps.
Being checked out by the hot, hunky boss of The Cave after a big win? This is the life.
Cody says, “Yeah, really good stuff.” He looks down at my cock. It’s hard again. “I knew you had it in you, Miguel. I’m going to say that it’s your best match since Moneymaker’s debut.” He moves his hands to my shoulders, squeezing them. “Anger seems to bring out your best.” He rubs my pecs. Oh, that’s nice. Cody smirks, “Who else do you have a grudge against?”
Valerio snarls, “You.”
Cody laughs, “I knew you’d say that. I was talking to Miguel.” He tweaks my nipple, “Is that true? Do we have a feud I’m not aware of?”
I lower my arms and take the iPad to complete my form. We’ve done it enough that we know the deal by heart. I answer honestly, “No, Cody, I don’t have a grudge against you. But I want a rematch against The Bat one day. And I owe that Buck guy for shaving my head. After destroying my asshole ex, I lost my edge. I didn’t give either of you my best.”
“Hey, it happens. We can definitely talk rematch. Anyone else?”
“Any guy. Any size. I’m not running from big men anymore, Cody. Give me Darius. Doug. Maybe that new kid Him I’m hearing about. Guys like that. I want fans to see what I can really do. Is Chris’ ex coming back? He’d be fucking awesome to wreck.”
“Not sure, but Ry and Pete are working on him. There are a lot of options around your size now. I’ll see what I can do.” Cody looks over at Val, “Congratulations, Valerio. I know you’re responsible for a lot of this new focus. The ringside stuff looked hot. You should know, I’m going to confirm with Jae, but if it’s as hot as it looked, could be released on its own.”
Val confidently replies, his cock stiff, “It was hot. I owned that big bitch.” My buddy looks at me then back at Cody. “If Street joins The Cave, let us know. I’d love to really wreck that musclebound moron. Either me or Miggy.”
Cody smirks, “Wow, he did make a good impression. You were closest to him, so I’m happy to hear that. You think we should hire him?”
My buddy always has an attitude with Cody, but his answer is obvious on his face. He likes Street. “Yeah, he’s okay. Huge, hot, and stupid, just like I like them.” Cody smirks and looks at me. Val realizes the joke the boss is about to make, so Val jumps in first, “By ‘them’, I mean our opponents. Don’t even try to make trouble between us, Cody.”
The boss laughs as he grabs the iPad from me, “Who me? I never make trouble. Of course, I’m also not the one who said he likes big, hot, dumb guys in front of my big, hot buddy.” Cody heads to the door as Val fumes. On his way out, he says, “Have fun, boys.”
Val frowns, “I hate that guy. I can’t believe you let him talk you into helping that idiot Xaq out.” Xaq is another guy Val hates. He's Cody's sidekick and trainee. I agreed to model in his upcoming fashion show. It'll be fun. When else is a big construction worker like me gonna get a chance to strut down a runway? Val doesn't approve, but I'm excited to do it. My buddy keeps ranting, "They're taking advantage of you."
Cody looks surprised, which doesn’t happen very often. He admits, “I didn’t know that you guys knew each other that well. Chris never mentioned it when I set this up.”
I snort, “Yeah, because he’s an asshole. We met at practice. Muscle guys. Same size. We talked. You know we’re both in construction?” Cody nods. “Went for drinks. Just friendly, right? I told him that my job was wrapping up and I didn’t have anything lined up. He was bragging about how he’s like the foreman at his site. I asked if he could hook me up. He said yeah, but in exchange for my ass.”
“He actually said that?”
“In other words, but yeah, basically. I knew what he meant.”
Val chimes in, “When Miguel told me, I called up and checked him out. The guy isn’t even close to the hiring. He’s got no power.”
I growl, “Fucking scammer.”
Cody shakes his head, “Chris sure knows how to make enemies.” He sighs, “Based on what I saw with his ex, when he wants a guy’s ass, he’ll use any line or move he needs to. I’m glad you didn’t fall for it. Although sounds like I’ll need to monitor him at practice.”
Val asks, “So, who’s his backup?”
“Chris brought in a work friend. Guy named Street.”
Val laughs, “His Cave name is Street? Is he just gonna lie down and let me walk all over him?”
The boss smirks, “No, his Cave name is … TBD. Might be Agent Peace but I don’t know exactly what gear he’s chosen, yet. His real name is Street. It’s his last name.”
I ask, “What’s he like?”
Cody smiles, “Big. Slightly bigger than Chris or Miguel. 34. 6’2”. 235. Sexy. Rugged. Also works construction. Has some good moves. I’d like to add him to the roster after this.”
Val sneers, “Don’t count on that. Miguel’s gonna win, but I’m gonna do my thing, too. After I’m done making Street roadkill, he’ll be done with this place.”
Cody replies confidently, “Don’t you count on that. The guy is cool. He’s open to anything as long as he gets paid.”
I ask, “Is he a hooker like Chris?” Cody nods. “Yeah, that’s another line he tried. Said he’d teach me how. If I gave him my ass. For practice.” I look at Val, “Maybe there’s a way to use that to neutralize this Street guy. Keep him from interfering.”
Cody tells us in a very definite tone, “He’s not going to interfere in the match.” We look at him in surprise. The boss explains, “He’s ringside to stop Val from interfering. He won’t do anything more than that.”
Val snorts, “Yeah, right.”
“Hold up, Val. Cody wouldn’t say it if he didn’t believe it.” Val looks at me like I’m crazy, but one look at Cody’s smirk and I’m confident that I’m right. Cody is telling us something without telling us. I probe for more information, “What makes you so sure?”
Cody says, “Street is a transactional guy. He’s being paid to handle Val. That’s all he’ll do. If Chris wants him to interfere, he will have to pay him extra to do it.” Cody casually adds, “Chris already has to pay Street out of his own pocket if Street gets fucked by Val after the match.” My buddy’s eyes flare. “I’m sure Chris isn’t giving up any more cash to get the guy to wrestle.”
Val smiles big at the challenge and opportunity, “So, wait. Me fucking Street costs Chris money? Guess I know what I’ll be doing post-match.”
Cody adds, “Oh, I should let you know that Jae will be a third cameraman. Working ringside.”
I’m surprised. “Three? Won’t that be crowded?”
“No, he’ll be back, away from the ring. Ry and Pete are doing the ring. Jae’s only filming Street and Val. Capturing anything that happens between them.”
Val looks at Cody suspiciously, “So, you expect something to happen?”
Cody shrugs, “I just want to be ready in case it does. You never know. I’ve told Street, and now I’m telling you. If it’s hot enough, we might release it separately. Maybe on the fan site. Maybe as a video, Of course, if we do, you and Street would get paid for it.”
We exchange looks again. Cody is for sure telling us something and now we know what.
The boss ends the conversation, “All right guys, I’m going to send the Peace boys out first. Get them flexing. I’ll be back for you in a few minutes.”
In unison, we tell him, “We’ll be ready.”
-----
ROUND ONE.
NARRATOR: MASTER PEACE
 |
| I'm Master Peace. |
We move in, arms raised. We lock up in a classic collar-and-elbow. Fuck, he’s solid. We test strength, feel each other out. I put all I got into it. Run him back into the corner. CLANG! Yeah, I’m the fucking man. He’s nothing but a muscleboy jobber! Suddenly, Moneymaker pulls and turns. He reverses our position, putting in the corner, back-first. CLANG! What the heck?
The musclestud raises his arms and I match it. We break clean. As he steps back, I admire the thick Latino muscleman. That just made me want him even more. Outta nowhere, he turns sideways and dives in. He drives his 220-lbs into me and slams his elbow into the side of my head. SPLAT! CRACK! I’m seeing stars. Fuck him. It was supposed to be a clean break.
Moneymaker grabs hold of my hair and pulls me out. He scoops me up and bodyslams me down. BOOM! He goes for a stomp, but I roll away. He manages to avoid jamming his knee. Too bad. I rise up fast. We dive into another lockup. I guess he’s feistier than I expected. Really wants me to work for what’s mine. Fucker. I twist and power him into a standing side headlock.
I grunt, “Yeah, feel that? That’s real power.”
The musclestud groans as his right arm goes around my waist. His left feels up my leg. Good. Checking out my muscles will only make him more submissive. The muscle jobber is moaning from a simple headlock. Loser. Moneymaker’s moaning turns into grunting. Next thing I know, he’s lifting me. My boots leave the canvas, and he falls back, side suplexing me onto my shoulders. BOOM! UNH! I roll away again.
We both roll up. My muscles can take abuse, but I’m a little slower. When I reach my feet, Moneymaker is on me with a big clothesline that puts me back down. WHOMP! BAM! Damn, he’s more aggressive than I expected. He comes down with a big elbow drop to my chest. THUMP! OOF! Gotta turn this around. When he bounces off and sits up, I dive at his back. I grab him in a rear naked choke.
I don’t get it right. Moneymaker is struggling against me. He flips me over. I somersault over and up to my feet. We’re both up. I charge at him, putting him down with a clothesline. WHOMP! BAM! Yeah, that’s it! I move in, He surprises me with a kick to my gut. WHOMP! I bend forward and he swings his gold boot into my head. CRACK! I spin around. Fuck!
Moneymaker kicks the back of my knee. WHACK! I go down to one knee, barely managing to avoid falling. He jumps on my back and tackles me down. He rises with his shin across my throat. The musclestud fires big fists down into my gut. THUD! THUD! THUD! My ripped abs are harder than his jobber hands. I throw him off. I need a second. I get to one knee, but he grabs me in a reverse chinlock. Fuck!
I reach back and grab him. I throw him over my shoulder onto his back. SPLAT! Moneymaker starts to rise, but I dive at his knee, clipping it. He goes down again. I keep hold of his leg and stand up. I use his leg to flip him over and lock on a single leg crab. Yeah, that’s it. Time for a reset. The muscle jobber came out on fire, but I’m back where I belong. On top. In control.
Moneymaker suffers. I have my back to Valet, which normally would be a stupid thing to do. I’m grateful for Agent Peace being ringside. I feel Moneymaker reaching. Probably for his boy. Gotta trust my buddy. I crank harder, really bending his back. Moneymaker cries out in pain. He stops reaching. Good. I move to adjust the hold, but the muscle jobber does a push up and kicks, powering out.
I stumble two steps before I can stop. I turn and crouch. I want to see what’s happening ringside, but I should stay focused. It’ll be fine. I can sneak a peek to see what they’re up to. Valet isn’t even looking here. He’s looking at Agent Peace. Fuck, my buddy is actually doing it. He’s making this one-on-one. Now, it’s time for me to take care of business.
Moneymaker is up in the corner. I charge. He dodges my spear. Fuck! I fly past him, right into the corner where I slam into the middle turnbuckle shoulder-first. CLANG! I grab my shoulder and slide forward, resting my chest on the middle turnbuckle for a second. Suddenly, two boots slam into my ass. BOMP! The dropkick sends me flying shoulder-first into the ring post! CLANG! Fuck!
The muscle stud grabs me around the waist. He pulls me back into the ring, forcing me into a reverse bearhug. ARGH! Fuck, he’s strong. Moneymaker lifts me up. WHOA! I fly overhead in a belly-to-back suplex. BOOM! Oh, shit. I need a second. I roll right out of the ring. I realize I’m on the opposite side of Agent Peace and Valet. I look at my enforcer for help, but he’s not even looking at me. He's laser-focused on the twink.
At least I don’t have to worry about the twink. But some help on my side would be good right now. You’d think he’d care. If I go down, he goes down. I stand up. A shadow blocks the light. I look up to see Moneymaker overhead. Oh shit, while I was distracted, he was climbing to the top turnbuckle of the nearest corner. Now, he’s in the air! I have to -
Moneymaker crashes on top of me before I can even finish the thought. His 220-lbs slams down on me. BAM! I try to catch him, but we go down hard. SPLAT! I take all the impact on the mats that surround the ring. I moan under the muscle stud. Fuck, why’d he have to pick this match not to be a fucking jobber. I’ve never seen the guy be this good in the six months I’ve been here.
The muscleman grabs my wrist as he rises. He drags me up to my feet right into a scoop and bodyslam back onto the mats. BOOM! Need to get to Agent Peace. I desperately crawl under the ring. Before I can make it all the way, Moneymaker grabs my white boot. He drags me back by the ankle. I try to find something to grab, but there’s nothing under this side of the ring.
My clawing fingers slide along the smooth polished concrete until I’m back on the mat. Moneymaker drives his boots down onto my aching back. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! I have to lie here and take it. I’m struggling to resist the force of his gold boots. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! When he stops, I try to focus, but he’s giving me no time. I get dragged up and lifted across his chest.
I’m anticipating another big bodyslam, but Moneymaker just holds my 225-lbs of sculpted muscle. Making me think on it? How can I counter this? They probably taught that at one of the practices I skipped. The muscle stud carries me to the corner. He steps forward, slamming my back into the ring post three times! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! Oh fuck, the cold steel doesn’t give as my lower back is smashed into it.
Moneymaker turns and now gives me the bodyslam I was expecting. BOOM! My back screams out as I roll onto my side, whimpering. Oh fuck. He drags me up and forces me under the bottom rope, back into the ring. I roll to the middle of the ring. Cody always says that great champs have reserves. They find a way. I gotta figure out something. Some way. Think!
I can’t believe how intense Moneymaker is. Where’s the muscle jobber I expected? The one who barely beats lightweights? The one who needs a twink to save him? The one who got squashed and his head shaved by a rookie? WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT GUY? I find a way to handle his twink helper Valet only for Moneymaker to figure out how to fucking wrestle.
The muscle stud is looking confident as he moves toward me. I’m up to hands and knees. Gotta look weak. Submissive. When Moneymaker gets close enough, I throw myself at his legs. He wasn’t expecting that. WHACK! I bowl him down onto his side. I’m on his legs. I grab them and rise, forcing myself to move. I power him into a Boston crab. I sit and my back screams. Fuck it. I need this!
I ignore the pain and hold the Boston. Again, I have my back to Valet. Agent Peace has been useless as an enforcer, but he is handling the twink. Gotta focus on me and the muscle jobber. No distractions this time. One peek. Just to make sure. I turn. Ouch! My back doesn’t like that. Agent Peace has Valet in a full nelson. Sweet. I’m safe. Okay, one thing is going my way.
Alone, Moneymaker can’t do shit. Time for his jobber side to come out and play. I’m feeling better. Just need to hold this for another - Moneymaker gets a burst of energy. He fights me, pushing up. I resist, but he twists, and I lose it. We roll to the side. I keep my feet while he goes onto hands and knees. I charge at him, driving my padded knee into his big fat stupid head! CRACK! He goes down.
I need to do something simple. Boots. I drive my shiny white boots down onto his thick stomach and chest. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Red boot prints mark up his abs and pecs. I growl at him, my anger and frustration coming out, “Take that, you stupid jobber bitch!” STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! He just has to absorb my fury, helpless against my relentless attack.
I reach down and drag him up. When he reaches one knee, Moneymaker gives me a big gut punch. POW! OOF! I bend forward. He reaches between my legs and positions me across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The muscle stud flips me over, dropping me onto my back. SLAM! Pains shoots through me again. He drags me up to my knees and I can’t resist. Fuck.
Moneymaker shoves my head between his thighs. He squeezes on the standing head scissors. ARGH! His hands reach under me, around my torso. He lifts me so my feet are planted. I try to flip his 220-lbs of muscle over, but my back won’t cooperate. He lifts, flipping me over. My legs whip around onto his shoulders. Oh no! Moneymaker powerbombs me. KABOOM! I go limp, my arms and legs stretched out. Oh shit, that wrecked me.
I try to figure out what to do, but Moneymaker isn’t stopping to flex or anything. He grabs my head and drags me up and around. I have to follow, unable to stop him. My head goes back between his legs. I beg, “No! Please! Not another powerbomb!” I hear him just laugh. He grabs around my torso again. He lifts me up, but not for another powerbomb.
For something worse!
Much worse!
I’m upside down. My head is locked between his muscular legs. His arms holding me tightly. His chin at my butt. I’m in position for a piledriver!
Moneymaker laughs, “You wish is my command. Not another powerbomb.”
I groan, “NO!”
The muscle stud drops. THUNK! My head hits hard, jamming my neck. I’m barely conscious. When he lets go of my body, I fall down, limp and lifeless. I moan, the only sign of life I can manage. Am I knocked out? Maybe. It’s like an out-of-body experience as Moneymaker rolls me onto my back. He puts one finger - just one - between my pecs.
“ONE!”
I try to will my shoulder to rise. Nope. the left one won’t go.
“TWO!”
Maybe the right shoulder? It’s moving! I can feel it moving!
“THREE!”
It didn’t rise. Pinned. I lost. Easily. I can’t believe it. I was practically squashed. By a muscle jobber like Moneymaker. Without his annoying chihuahua biting my ankles. I thought losing to War Lord was humiliating. This might have been worse.
Motherfucker!
-----
ROUND TWO.
NARRATOR: MONEYMAKER
 |
| Yeah, I'm the Moneymaker. |
Runs into The Bat. Lost. Same thing happened to me. Got humiliated next time out. I had a few rough matches before getting humiliated by Red Marvel. When it starts to get away from you, it happens fast. His confidence is shaky. I can see it in his face. Now, he’s down a fall to me. Valerio helped pull me out of my spiral, but his ‘valet’ is only interested in my Valet.
My guy confirmed Cody’s thinking. Valet says the guy isn’t gonna do shit to help his buddy. If they believe that, I believe it. I’ve got my business handled. Up a fall, I can take a risk. Do this on my own. Master Peace thought he was facing a muscle jobber. I can use that. I’ve told my boy he can have fun with the big bruiser this fall. Valet is young, but he’s clever. He’ll be okay.
DING! DING! DING!
Showtime.
I come out slow, make him come to me. When Cody told me that Chris never mentioned knowing me, I knew he wouldn’t be prepared. My grudge is my fuel. He thinks his game is tight, never thinking that what he’s doing is wrong. Master Peace hangs back, too. Cautious. More focused. Now, he might be getting it. But it’s too late. I’m dialed in on him. We lock up. Master Peace is more ripped than me, but I’m more solid. He’s all show; I’m all go. I can match his strength. And unlike him, my ex was my wrestling teacher. A complete asshole, but he knew his way around a ring. The lessons were hard, but they stuck with me. I can still hear Javi, “Don’t waste time! Don’t preen! When you’re up, keep on him! Never let up!”
I immediately turn hard and catch him off guard. I power him into a standing side headlock. UNH! Master Peace grunts in surprise, like he expected we’d test strength. I crank hard on the headlock. He whimpers. I don’t let him counter. I drag him around the ring by his head. He stumbles behind me. Yeah, follow me, bitch! I keep him off-balance, doing a full lap.
I stop use short. It takes him a second to steady himself. I pull hard and hip toss him over by his head. He flips over, landing on his upper shoulders, rolling flat on the canvas. SPLAT! I keep the headlock and land with my full 220 on top of his chest. WHAM! OOF! I crank on the hold, lifting his head up and wrenching his neck. He cries out like a little bitch. Fuck yeah!
Master Peace stomps his shiny white boots. CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP! With the arm that’s behind his head, I force him to suck the side of my pec. I reach the other one out and grab his white knee pad, I pull his leg to me, grabbing behind it. I roll him onto his shoulders in a cradle. My muscular body pins his shoulders, and my arms hold him in place. I decide to count.
“ONE!”
“TWO!”
The asshole kicks out, but I got a solid two-count in just over a minute. That’s gotta mess with his head. Master Peace scrambles up. I’m there, ramming my big gold boot into his ripped abs. THUD! OOF! He bends forward right into a front facelock. I pull forward for a DDT, but he pulls back, leaning into it. The prick blocks it. His head pops free and he stumbles back a few steps.
I give him another gut kick. WHOMP! He bends forward right into my front facelock again. This time, I grab the side of his white trunks. I lift him up. His white boots go up high in the air. I show off my power, holding his 225-lbs of muscle upside down. The blood rushes to his head. I laugh, “Thinking about what a jobber bitch you are? You’re nothing!” I don't want an answer.
I finally fall back, finishing the suplex. His back slams onto the ring. BOOM! Master Peace bounces on impact. He rolls onto his side, holding his back. I grab a handful of his hair. I drag him up to his feet. He fires off a gut punch. THUD! OOF! Wasn’t expecting that! I can hear my ex lecturing me on getting cocky. Fuck! He gives me another one. THUD! OOF! I bend forward.
The asshole follows up with a forearm under my chin. WHACK! I fly up and fall against the ropes. He gets up, but I bounce off the ropes and charge at him. Wasn’t expecting that, were you, Master Peace? I collide with him, hitting a big shoulder block. BAM! OOF! With the momentum from the ropes and my strength, I knock him right off his feet.
The muscleman flies back, landing hard. SPLAT! His legs come up on impact. I grab the left white boot. In seconds, I have him flipped over in a single leg crab. ARGH! After that suplex, this is a good hold. Torture his back. I find the camera and lift my free arm. Bicep flex. Give the viewers a thrill. Watching me dominate. I kiss my bulging bicep. When I look back at it, I wink and make a kiss at them.
I’m feeling playful. I really want to humiliate this loser. I bring my arm down and point at the white wrapped bulge hanging down. I make a pointing motion and look like I’m asking the fans what they think. With a smirking grin, I give the thumbs up like I heard them say ‘go for it.’ I slide my hand down to Master Peace’s balls. I make a production of it, opening my fingers.
The muscleman is fighting the crab. I clamp my hand on his balls. Yeah, that ends that. Master Peace screams out. I work the ball claw, pulling on his junk. He pounds the canvas and whimpers like a bitch. He calls me a few names. I add a twist and he goes wild. I tell him, “Shut the fuck up!” He moans and whines, begging me to stop. I laugh, “You giving already?”
“NO!”
Master Peace manages to kick out. I fall forward, but land perfectly. I spin and rise quickly. The muscle creep has crawled away to the ropes. I take a step at him, but I see he’s ready to counterattack me. I hold up, not wanting to be reckless. It’s all going my way. I plan to keep it that way. He’s rubbing his package as he stands up, using the ropes for support.
“Don’t try that again.”
I wanna ask, “Or what, you stupid muscle jobber?” Instead, I try to cool things down. Better to keep all the intensity on my side. I apologize, “Sorry, man. Your junk is just so hot, I couldn’t resist.” The idiot smiles. That’s the flattery. Now, I challenge his ego. “I didn’t go too hard for you, did I? I thought I was just playing. I tug Valet’s manhood like that all the time.”
Master Peace actually buys that shit. He can’t admit being softer than a twink. He stands up tall, “It’s cool. I’m fine. Just don’t do it again.”
“For sure. I won’t do it again.” As I’m saying it, my fingers are crossed behind my back. Another thing for the fans. Of course, I’m gonna do it again if I get the chance. The asshole is so proud of being ‘an amazing alpha top.’ Brags about it. It’s like he put a target on the front of his trunks. I ask real nice, “You need more time?”
“No. Let’s go.”
We lock up again. This time, Master Peace gets the advantage. Fuck! Instead of pushing into me, he pushes my head down. My momentum moves me right into a front facelock. Before I can react, he pulls my head around, wrenching my neck as we spin around. I’m pulled off my feet, doing a 180 in the swinging neckbreaker. ARGH! I land hard on my back. WHAM!
Fuck! Master Peace is up first. He kicks me onto my back. WHACK! The asshole drives his boots down on my pecs and abs. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The guy’s powerful. Javi’s in my head again. ‘Got too cocky, kid!’ Shut up! Focus! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Master Peace stops stomping me. Oh shit. He’s up in the air, coming in hot with a big leg drop to my chest. WHOMP! OOF! The impact knocks the air out of my body. The muscle creep spins and sits on my face, his shins pinning my shoulders. He wiggles his hips, rubbing his sweaty white spandex trunks over my nose and mouth. Master Peace starts in on me, pounding my thick torso. THUD! POW! THUD! I tighten up, but the boots broke down my pecs and abs enough that I feel his fists. POW! THUD! POW! I grunt into his ass.
Before I can throw him off, Master Peace rolls off. He grabs me around the head, forcing me to sit up. He jerks my neck and spins me around. I’m lifted up across his chest. The fucker is strong, manhandling my 220-lbs. He bodyslams me down. BOOM! I arch my back to ease the pain. He drives his big white boot onto my lower abs. STOMP! I drop back down.
Master Peace forces me up. He scoops me up and bodyslams me again. BOOM! I roll onto my side. Valet’s back is to me. As I’m dragged up again, I think I might have made a mistake letting him play. Master Peace scoops me up for a third time. This time, he drops me over his leg in an over-the-knee backbreaker. KRAKT! I go limp on impact. My spine is aching and back is seizing up.
The asshole mocks me, “Yeah, how’s that feel? GIVE!”
“NO!”
The muscleman pushes on my chin and knee, bending me as much as possible. My head is at the canvas. He eases up to club my abs with his forearm. BAM! BAM! BAM! I jerk and convulse as I hang on his leg. BAM! BAM! BAM! He bounces his leg, sending shockwaves of pain throughout my body. I moan louder. He digs his elbow into my stretched-out abs. ARGH!
I have to do something. Maybe give and get to round three. Better than suffering for a few more minutes and still submitting. It’s all on me. Fuck! I went from tag wrestler to solo wrestler with a helper. I have to submit. As I close my eyes, I see me ex Javi mocking me. ‘Can’t do it without me, can you, kid?’ Fuck you, Javi! I focus. I hear his voice again, but this time, it’s from training. How to escape an over-the-knee backbreaker!
I summon all I’ve got. I crunch up making it only parallel to the ring, but it’s enough. Master Peace wasn’t expecting that. I swing my arm up and grab his face. I club his head. WHACK! The blow stuns him. I whip my arm around again. He leans back so I can’t club him, but I can rake him across the eyes. SCRATCH! ARGH! Master Peace falls back, and I roll off. Free!
Master Peace is wiping his eyes. I draw my leg back and kick out. I hit him square in the jaw with the black rubber heel of my shiny gold boot. CRACK! He flies back, rolling around the canvas. I get up, summoning my adrenaline. Master Peace manages to rise, but he’s staggering and still blinking. Wide open. I’m laser-focused on those chiseled abs.
I run at him. He sees me too late. I spear his stomach with my shoulder, driving him all the way back into the corner. CLANG! I drop to one knee and lift my arm up between his legs with a vicious low blow. SQUISH! URK! Told you I’d do it. Master Peace grunts something, calling me a lying cheating bastard. Yeah, I guess I am. And I’m damn proud of it. I’m gonna win this.
I drive my shoulder into his abs three more times. Master Peace is crushed in the corner. After the third one, he falls onto my back. I stand up, lifting him with me. I bring him down in a reverse atomic drop, making sure he hits my leg balls first before jamming his spine. SQUISH! He collapses into the corner. I stand up tall, chest high as I look down at the muscle bitch.
Master Peace is rubbing his balls. I lift my knee up between his legs. Not hard, but even minimal force has him backing away. I guide his ass onto the middle turnbuckle. I grab his wrists and force them back and over the top rope. I grab his right leg. I pull it out and rest his ankle on the middle rope. I do it with his left, so he’s split wide open. I lift his chin, forcing him look me in the eye.
“Shouldn’t have tried your games on me, asshole.”
“What?”
“My ass isn’t for sale, fucker. And it’ll never be yours. But yours is about to be mine, jobber bitch.”
I start pounding his body. THUD! WHOMP! KAPOW! His legs are locked out wide, but any time he tries to move his arms over the top rope, I grab his wrists and pull down hard. ARGH! I step to the side, unleashing a series of brutal chops across his big pecs. THWAK! THWAK! THWAK! Red marks line his gorgeous chest, and his abs are red from my body punches.
Master Peace moans, “Agent Peace! Help!”
I grab his hair and aim his face at our backup. Valet’s back is to us, but his buddy is kneeling, his wrists zip-tied to the bottom rope. I laugh, “Looks like your man is a little tied up, loser. Looks like he’s my boy’s eager bitch now.”
Master Peace’s jaw drops, “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, no help for you, jobber bitch.” I grab his bulge. He cries out. I taunt him, “You really thought this was enough to top me?” I squeeze and he moans. “It’s not even a handful.”
I step back. I grab his wrists under the top rope and pull them forward. I put my boot on his abs and push. He moans. I kick his stomach multiple times. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! They’re short but effective. I lower my heel to his bulge. He shakes his head, “No! Please don’t!” I smile and pull it away. He relaxes. I walk away, flexing. His head sags, thinking the worst is over.
Yeah, no.
I run forward and kick under the middle turnbuckle. CLANG! AHHH! The impact sends pain radiating up through his bulge. The padding protects him a little, but not enough. I do it two more times. CLANG! CLANG! Master Peace is really whimpering now. Fuck, I love seeing this lying bitch suffer. I love it when I get to go real dirty with an asshole who deserves it.
Master Peace sags in the corner. He whimpers softly, “Please. No more.”
I slap his face, “WAKE UP!”
I roughly grab his head under my armpit. I pull him forward, working his arms over the top rope. I fall back, executing a beautiful DDT. His forehead hits the canvas, and his body goes limp. CRACK! Master Peace crumples in a heap. Bitch is knocked out. I grab his wrists and drag his massive carcass out of the corner. I slither on top of him, planting my crotch on his face.
I slap the canvas, “ONE!”
“TWO!”
“THREE!”
I flex my bicep and kiss it. Sweet victory. And I made it look so fucking easy. Two falls. This is what I can be if I’m motivated. This is what I will be. I look at the nearest camera, “Moneymaker is back, boys!”
I look over at Valet with a big smile. He looks happy for me. So does Master Peace’s buddy.
Interesting.
-----
THE MAIN MATCH STAKES.
NARRATOR: MASTER PEACE
 |
| Fuck! I lost to Moneymaker? |
What? I sit up. I’m wet. Oh fuck. Moneymaker knocked me out with that piledriver. Son of a bitch. I lost. I lift my knees. AH! My white trunks tighten on my balls. That hurt. They’re still tender. I reach down to rub them. Fuck, that sucks. The muscleman really brought it. I was not expecting him to be so intense, considering we’re friendly outside the ring. Practically buddies.
Speaking of buddies, where is mine? What happened to Street? He was supposed to be watching my back. Instead, he’s a no-show when I need him. From what I could see while I was wrestling, he was outsmarted by the twink. That’s gotta make him pissed. I told him Valet was dangerous. At least I’m not the only one who’ll be fucked by this loss.
“Looks like you’ll finally get what you wanted.” Moneymaker is standing over me with a big smile on his face. I’m confused. “You always wanted me to fuck you.” I’m even more confused. I never wanted that. The winner says, “No, wait. That’s right. You always to fuck me.” I frown. He’s making fun of me. “Yeah, bitch, you were never gonna get my ass. And you never will.”
I spit out, “Your loss.”
“Shut up. Only one loser in this ring. Take off your trunks, bitch.”
I moan as I slide them down my legs. I thought it would feel better, but my dangling junk actually hurts more without the support of the white spandex. I toss my trunks aside. Moneymaker orders, “Get on your knees.” I roll and slide around, facing his gold-wrapped package. My bare butt rests on my heels. He kicks my knee, “Spread them wider.”
I open up my legs. Ow. My aching junk hangs uncomfortably. I move to adjust it, but the winner says, “Nope.” I look him in the eye, silently asking why. He smirks, “They’ll be swinging around while I pound your ass, so might as well just let them stretch out on their own.” Damn. Moneymaker commands me, “Peel down my trunks. Nice and slow. Use your teeth.”
I lean in for the waistband. I bite down in front, pulling the stretchy spandex out a little. The white knot of the lace pops out. I look at it, figuring out which end is the right one. Grabbing the sweaty string with my front teeth, I pull, untying it. That’ll make life easier. I go back at it, working the trunks to find a place to bite down. Thousands of dollars on braces and professional whitening to use them as some muscleman’s bitch. Fuck.
Got them. My mouth fills up with the taste of his sweat. I start pulling. Moneymaker smacks my head. WHAP! I lose my bite on the gold spandex. Fuck. He growls, “I said nice and slow. You tear them up and I’ll tear you up. Got it?” I nod. Great, now I need to grab them again. I go from the side, hoping to get them over his mountainous ass. That’s the hardest thing to do.
Moneymaker lets me crawl around back. I work them down, finally getting them over and wedged under the muscular butt cheeks. Phew. I crawl back around and pick up in front. It takes me a lot of time, but I work them down over his bulge, freeing his hard cock. I duck the thick rod as it flops out. Moneymaker grabs me by the hair and pulls me into his crotch.
“What? You don’t want my dick touching your face? Pretty funny considering it’ll be deep down your throat in a minute. Here, get used to it.”
Moneymaker slaps my cheeks with his cock. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! He powers it into my mouth, going deep until I choke on it. He pulls out. I catch my breath. He drives back in, going even deeper. He pulls out. This goes on until he stays in my mouth and face fucks me like I’m a $2 whore. I’m way more expensive than that, but he’s rough, just hammering the back of my throat.
I do my best, but I’m usually the top. I only suck customers to finish them off and that’s easy work after I plow them. Moneymaker orders me to finish with his trunks. I get them down to his boots. He offers, “Kiss my boots and I’ll let you use your hands.” I move my lips to give the shiny gold leather a peck, but he anticipates me. “Kiss them right, bitch.”
I nod. I breathe in deeply then out slowly. I get to work, using my lips and tongue on the leather. I go slowly to make sure it counts. I move to the other one, spending just as much time and energy on it. When I sit up on my heels, I look up. He smirks, “Good job. You can use your hands.” Relieved that he’s not being a complete asshole, I work the trunks over his boots.
Moneymaker lies down. “Ride me, bitch. I wanna see your junk flopping around.” I grimace, knowing that’ll hurt. I crawl in. I jerk his cock with my hand then add my mouth to get him fully hard. He responds. I lube my hole and sheathe his cock. When I feel like I can do it, I squat over his cock and sit down. Oh fuck! I don’t bottom enough for this not to hurt. His brown uncut cock is thick as fuck, splitting me in two. I finally get all the way down.
More breathing. I start bouncing up and down, fucking myself on his fat cock. I pick up speed. My junk bounces and I cry out from both the thick meat tearing up my hole and the pain of my tortured manhood whipping around. The smile on Moneymaker’s face tells me how much he’s enjoying this. My back starts to ache, and I fall forward, bracing myself on his thick pecs.
“What the matter, bitch? Did I hurt you too much?” I’m not willing to admit that, but the muscle stud smirks, “Think carefully about your answer. Only one is right.”
I swallow and decide to be honest, “Yes. You hurt me. My back is seizing up.”
“So, I really wrecked you.”
“Yes.”
“The loser bitch can’t ride me any longer.”
“No, I can’t.” The muscle stud just waits. He can’t want … he does. I say, “Can we please change positions, Sir?”
A big smile and he throws me off him. Moneymaker grabs my hair and forces me to the ropes. He hangs me over the middle one. I try to keep a neutral spine as I wait. Moneymaker drives inside me, his body slamming into my muscular ass cheeks on the first go. Even though I’m open from riding him, I still cry out. Moneymaker likes that. He grabs my hips and just holds.
I adjust to him inside me, but the hammering starts quickly. Relentless slamming. I sway on the steel cable cutting across my pecs. I hold onto it for my life. The pounding is brutal. I don’t know whatever I did to piss the muscle stud off, but this is personal. I moan loud. Valet must be doing the same to Agent Peace, because I hear them, too. But I can’t think about that. I need to survive this.
My cock is rock hard. Moneymaker is destroying my hole, but he’s hitting me right as he does it. It’s doesn’t hurt any longer. It’s just pleasure. I’m leaking and my balls are contracting. My voice gets higher and my moans turning to gasping and whimpering. Oh fuck. I grab my head and close my eyes, just riding back and forth as the rope is tested by his powerful thrusts.
Moneymaker sounds like he’s going to cum. He pulls out and pulls me back off the rope. I turn and collapse on my back. As he straddles my chest, the muscle stud leans forward and aims his dick. I open my mouth and close my eyes. Just in time to earn a giant load on my face. Ropes of cum splash down, coating my handsome features with the winner’s seed.
When Moneymaker drains his rod, he forces it into my mouth for cleaning. I do my best, sucking on the softening rod. He pulls out. I open my eyes and look up as he majestically stands over me. He plants his boot on my chest and flexes for the camera. He looks at it, “Moneymaker is back, boys. This loser is just the start of my comeback!”
I wait out his posing and exit before rolling over. I see Ryan behind the camera. He makes a motion, encouraging me to jerk off. I look down. My cock is hard and throbbing. I reach down and grab it tentatively. I start pumping and close my eyes. After all I’ve been through, it’s humiliating. I normally feel pride in my manhood, but now, I don’t know how I feel.
Three humiliating losses. Am I a jobber?
My load answers for me, erupting, shooting out across the canvas. I give up my cum. My balls ache, but it’s a big load. A powerful load. My whole body tenses and I cry out. It’s a painful orgasm, but it feels great. I’m shocked, but I can’t stop. I milk my cock dry before collapsing onto my back. I see Ryan towering over me with his camera, capturing the whole thing.
Fuck.
-----
IN THE LOCKER ROOM.
NARRATOR: MIGUEL/MONEYMAKER
 |
| My comeback has started. |
Naked in my gold boots, I flex for Cody. I’m still pumped with excitement. I’ve missed this winning feeling. I’m happy Val didn’t get the chance to do anything. I kicked Chris’ ass in two falls all on my own. “Thanks, Cody. Damn that felt good.”
The Cave boss hands Val the iPad with the post-match paperwork to sign. It’s the routine. Cody does a mental evaluation disguised as conversation and we give him a physical report. If all is good, we sign, getting our money immediately. I move to drop my arms, but Cody signals for me to keep my arms up in the double bicep flex. He moves in and feels up my biceps.
Being checked out by the hot, hunky boss of The Cave after a big win? This is the life.
Cody says, “Yeah, really good stuff.” He looks down at my cock. It’s hard again. “I knew you had it in you, Miguel. I’m going to say that it’s your best match since Moneymaker’s debut.” He moves his hands to my shoulders, squeezing them. “Anger seems to bring out your best.” He rubs my pecs. Oh, that’s nice. Cody smirks, “Who else do you have a grudge against?”
Valerio snarls, “You.”
Cody laughs, “I knew you’d say that. I was talking to Miguel.” He tweaks my nipple, “Is that true? Do we have a feud I’m not aware of?”
I lower my arms and take the iPad to complete my form. We’ve done it enough that we know the deal by heart. I answer honestly, “No, Cody, I don’t have a grudge against you. But I want a rematch against The Bat one day. And I owe that Buck guy for shaving my head. After destroying my asshole ex, I lost my edge. I didn’t give either of you my best.”
“Hey, it happens. We can definitely talk rematch. Anyone else?”
“Any guy. Any size. I’m not running from big men anymore, Cody. Give me Darius. Doug. Maybe that new kid Him I’m hearing about. Guys like that. I want fans to see what I can really do. Is Chris’ ex coming back? He’d be fucking awesome to wreck.”
“Not sure, but Ry and Pete are working on him. There are a lot of options around your size now. I’ll see what I can do.” Cody looks over at Val, “Congratulations, Valerio. I know you’re responsible for a lot of this new focus. The ringside stuff looked hot. You should know, I’m going to confirm with Jae, but if it’s as hot as it looked, could be released on its own.”
Val confidently replies, his cock stiff, “It was hot. I owned that big bitch.” My buddy looks at me then back at Cody. “If Street joins The Cave, let us know. I’d love to really wreck that musclebound moron. Either me or Miggy.”
Cody smirks, “Wow, he did make a good impression. You were closest to him, so I’m happy to hear that. You think we should hire him?”
My buddy always has an attitude with Cody, but his answer is obvious on his face. He likes Street. “Yeah, he’s okay. Huge, hot, and stupid, just like I like them.” Cody smirks and looks at me. Val realizes the joke the boss is about to make, so Val jumps in first, “By ‘them’, I mean our opponents. Don’t even try to make trouble between us, Cody.”
The boss laughs as he grabs the iPad from me, “Who me? I never make trouble. Of course, I’m also not the one who said he likes big, hot, dumb guys in front of my big, hot buddy.” Cody heads to the door as Val fumes. On his way out, he says, “Have fun, boys.”
Val frowns, “I hate that guy. I can’t believe you let him talk you into helping that idiot Xaq out.” Xaq is another guy Val hates. He's Cody's sidekick and trainee. I agreed to model in his upcoming fashion show. It'll be fun. When else is a big construction worker like me gonna get a chance to strut down a runway? Val doesn't approve, but I'm excited to do it. My buddy keeps ranting, "They're taking advantage of you."
I reply, “I know what you think. You know what I think. Cody’s fun, but who cares? C’mon, let’s hit the showers. I’m ready to go again. Worship and fuck while we clean up?”
Val purrs, “Lead the way.”
-----
IN THE LOCKER ROOM.
NARRATOR: CHRIS/MASTER PEACE
 |
| There's gotta be a reason I lost. It can't be me. |
Jae replies, “Yep, we’re all good. Pleasure doing business with you guys. I enjoyed filming you, Street.”
“Hold up, kid.” Street smirks, “Hope you got my good side.”
“I got all your sides, and they were great. Cody asked me to capture anything interesting that happened ringside, and you gave me a lot to work with.”
“Yeah? Cody did that? Gave me my own special cameraman? Damn, I like your boss, kid. He’s a smart man.”
Jae laughs, “Cody’s my boyfriend, not my boss. We live together.”
“Thank you, Street. Hope to see you again soon. You, too, Chris.”
Jae leaves. I pace. I’m not sure why I’m pissed at Street, but I’m pissed. Before I explode at him, I need to get my thoughts together. I know there’s something going on. He’s being way too cool about everything. He got outsmarted, tied up, humiliated, and fucked by a twink on camera. I’m out a big chunk of my pay. I just have a weird feeling that it’s not an accident.
Street strips down. He either doesn’t notice that I’m worked up or he just doesn’t care. Yeah, it’s the latter. I wish I had someone as loyal to me as Val is to Miguel. If I did, I wouldn’t have had to rely on a shark like Street. Okay, I’m ready to calmly ask him a few questions. Like how a twink got the drop on him. Why he doesn’t care that I lost. Why I should pay him for nothing.
The door opens. Cody comes in. Fuck.
Cody is probably here to chew Street out for the escort site shit I wrote on him. That can wait. I tell the boss, “Not a good time, Cody. Jae already handled the paperwork and gave us our money. Street and I need to talk. In private.”
Street steps toward Cody, his big dick swinging, “No, we don’t. Great to see you, Cody.”
“You, too, Street.” Cody replies to me, “Jae told me you wanted privacy, but I want to talk to your buddy. I’ll be quick.”
Street puts his hands on his hips, showing off for the Cave boss. “Hey, your boyfriend’s a hot little stud. I get it now.” Street and Cody are really friendly with each other, smiling. Like buddies. Is Cody not mad? Street says in a sexy growl, “Don’t need to pay for my ass when you got that ass at home. And that chest? Fuck, I’d almost do your man for free.”
“Wow, that’s quite the compliment. Jae’s a great guy. I’m a lucky man.” I guess Cody isn’t angry about my buddy’s self-promotion. He looks relaxed. If not that, why is he here? What’s so important? Cody says, “So, potentially some good news.”
My naked buddy bounces his pecs for Cody and adjusts his junk. He smirks. Is he fucking flirting? Street asks, “Yeah? I like good news. What do you wanna tell me?”
Cody smirks back, “I’m sure this will come as a complete surprise to you, -” Why does that sound so sarcastic? “- but Jae had a great idea after the match.”
Street replies in a really smug tone, like he knows exactly what Cody is about to say, “Oh, did he? What was your sexy boy’s great idea?”
Cody grins, “Apparently, my idea of having a third ringside cameraman worked out. Jae says he got some great stuff between Val and you. Sounds like it might make a good video on its own. Big vs small. Bondage. Sex. Chris and Miguel in the background. Looks like you could be the star of your own video after all. We’ll review and make the call if it’s good enough.”
My buddy seductively growls, “Oh, it will be. Sounds like Jae’s sexy, smart, and talented. Of course, I gave him a lot to work with.”
The Cave co-owner laughs, “He is all that and more. I have no doubt he’s right but give us a couple of days to confirm what we’ve got. And we’re using Blue Collar Beef as your name on the site. Unless you want Daddy Beef?”
“Blue Collar Beef. Makes it easy for everyone to use my whore ID as my hero ID.” Street asks, “What exactly does this mean? When you see that the action is good enough.”
Cody says, “It means you’ll get a fresh, bigger paycheck, plus a sales bonus.” He looks at me, “And you might get paid a little for being in the background, Chris.”
What the fuck? Street’s gonna get paid again for MY match? My buddy nods, “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Win-win. I knew you and me were simpatico, Cody.”
“Businessmen gotta business, right?” What does that mean? Cody winks - winks! - at Street, who laughs in response. What the fuck? These two have some kind of inside joke? They barely know each other. Cody runs his finger over the marker on my buddy’s chest, “Cute move. Ry’s gonna have a fit trying to blur it out. Might have to make a disclaimer that we’re not endorsing you or that site.”
Street smirks, “Always businessing. Shocked I’m the first guy to think of it. Tell the big guy to hire me for a night and I’ll prove he doesn’t need to worry about any disclaimer. I’m legit. Five-star rated. Blue Collar Beef leaves everyone fully satisfied.”
“I bet you do. Don’t worry. My best friend is smart. He’ll figure something out. After he amends our contracts.” Cody steps back. “Now I’ll leave you two alone. Thanks for a great afternoon, guys. Great job, Street. You did great, too, Chris.”
I reply, “Thanks, Cody.” The door closes behind him and I’m alone with my buddy again. I was pissed before. I’m fuming now. I forget what I wanted to ask and how I wanted to ask it. I blurt out, “What the fuck was that? What’s going on with you and Cody?”
“Going on? Nothing. Just friendly business. He gets me.” Street taps his temple with his index finger, “We think alike. Fuck, this day worked out great.”
I growl, “Sounds like you were making your own video while you were supposed to be watching my back. While you were playing with Valet, I was getting low blows. My eyes raked. Tied up in the ropes. Moneymaker cheated like fuck, and I had no backup.” I accuse, “Why did you sell me out?”
Street aggressively steps toward me. He replies in a low, calm, but threatening voice, “Slow down there, sparky. Watch what you say to me.”
I’m too tired for a physical fight. Even at my best, not sure I can handle Street. I don’t back up, but I calm my voice, “I just want to know what’s going on.”
“You brought me in to handle Valet. I handled him. Did he interfere at all?” When I don’t answer, Street asks more forcefully, “Did he?” I have to shake my head. “Did you pay me to fight the match for you?” I have to shake my head. “Right. You didn’t. I did my job. I delivered on our deal. So, don’t be accusing me of shit. You mad you‘re a loser? Be mad at yourself.”
“Yeah, but -”
“Stop. ‘But’ nothing. Yes or no. Did I do the job you hired me for?”
I have to admit, “Yes.”
“Did I do it good?”
“Yes.”
I stare at him. He’s not wrong. Fuck. I underestimated Miguel. Valet was a non-factor, which is all I said I wanted. I’m still pissed as hell, knowing that I’m missing something. I picked the wrong wingman. Now, there’s some deal between Street and Cody. It feels like I’m the only loser here, but there’s nothing for me to complain about. Nothing I can point my finger at.
“Got anything else to say to me, Chris?” I shake my head. “Not even after I took time outta my life to come down here to help you out? Not even after I took abuse from a twink for you? Got fucked by a twink for you? Maybe even got you some extra money. Seems like you’d have something to say to me. Rhymes with banks.”
I breathe in and out slowly before saying, “Oh, yeah.” I lie, “Sorry, man, I’m not thinking right. I’m still feeling the knockouts.” I have to suck it up, “Thanks, Street.”
A big victory grin crosses his face. “You’re welcome, buddy. Any time.” He stretches out his muscular body and grabs his towel. “Gotta clean up. Big night.”
To calm myself, I try small talk, “Oh yeah? What’re you doing?”
“Got one of my regulars. Get this. He has a private backyard. I squat in a loincloth as I tear into a big slab of ribs. He sucks the bones clean while jerking his dick. When I’m done, I wipe my hands on my pits and pecs. He licks me clean. I’ll sling him over my shoulder and carry him around, spanking his ass. Ends with me rough fucking him for an hour. Boom! Big money.”
I sigh, “Sounds great.”
“Yeah, it is. Freaks with cash rock. You should try it, instead of sticking with the vanilla top shit you do. I’ll get outta there by 10, clean up, hit the bars. You going out tonight?” I shake my head. “Yeah, you should rest.” Street moves in real close. I don’t move. He whispers, “Hope your head is clearing up. Just in case it’s not, you owe me for getting fucked by that twink.”
Aw shit. I was hoping he’d let it slide now that’s he’s getting more money from Cody for his video with Val. I should’ve known better. Street wouldn’t let his mother slide if she was starving. I agreed to it, so I have to answer, “I’ll do it right now.”
“That’s my buddy. Thanks for bringing me in on this deal. Think I’m gonna like The Cave.”
THE END.
If you want to see what happened ringside between Street and Val, come back in SEVEN DAYS for a bonus story. Street narrates his experience from his tryout with Cody through the match and after. Street didn't even watch Master Peace vs. Moneymaker, so it's all-new, all-different action.
The Cave 40: Blue Collar Beef vs. Valet ... coming JULY 22, 2024!
Casting ...
Chris / Master Peace = Alessandro Cavagnola
Miguel / Moneymaker = Raul Lledo
Street / Agent Peace / Blue Collar Beef = Hank Meyer
Valet = Jon Cossu
Javi = Duny de la Cruz
Cody = Leighton Stultz
Jae = Mike Carr
Just when I was getting ready to tell you off, and call you a few unpleasant names, you redeem yourself by telling me I get the Val-Street story.
ReplyDeleteThe match between Moneymaker and Master Peace was hot. Glad that the non jobber Moneymaker is back. As you know, I love a good ballbash, and a good heel and he is one of my favorites. BUT I did miss the little guy getting involved. However, that was softened by Cody's "heel" side before the match.
As you know Valet is my favorite character in your world, so I was super excited to see he was in this story. Slightly disappointed he wasn't involved, but since you are going to make up for that I'll forgive you.
I LOVE your character development. And if it isn't said enough, thanks for continuing to write such hot stories. The 1st and 15 th are my favorite days of the month . And now, apparently, I have to add the 22nd to that list!! 😙😁
PS -- but not telling how Street ended up ziptied to the ring rope was just WRONG on so many levels.
DeleteHa! I knew that was cruel and I did it anyway. Gleefully. Guess I have a ‘heel’ side, too. Teasing Street and Valet then completely ignoring it was wrong on many levels, but will turn out right in the end.
DeleteYou almost had four narrators, but it was so long and complex, I had to split it in two. I was actually even more interested in the Street-Valet dynamic, so it almost became the primary story, but I didn’t want to spoil MM/MP. Since the S/V story is completely character-driven, spoiling it wasn’t a problem.
Its great to see MoneyMaker back again in action. And what a comeback. Huge. Absolutely stunning performance. Beats Master Peace in two rounds. This is like a completely new guy inside and outside the ring. Perhaps not new, but with a completely different perspective. Add to that you brought indirectly, Javier, with also a different view point. Definitely wondering the future for MoneyMaker and possible opponents. All of his ideas are great. I know some people like his Valet interactions but I think we need to see more of his true wrestling potential. Full throttle. Street was extremely well written. And where does this guy go from here. Because with a name like that, Im sure he is going to make one heck of a good wrestler. And his mindset doesnt hurt, he is someone that Cody can work with very well, inside and outside the ring. Master Peace has to deal with certain things. So I hope we see that in stories. But this was all about MoneyMaker and perhaps him showing us what he can really do. His mental interactions with Javier, were incredible. If anyone stopped reading your stories in the summer, they are definitely losing bigtime, because they have been, just excellent, back to back to back to back.
ReplyDeleteThanks! It’s been a while for us since Miguel mentally turned it around after his encounter with Pete, but yeah, he’s more focused now. We’ll see how he does against tougher competition.
DeleteStreet started out minor, but the more I wrote him, the more I really, really liked him. That’s he ended up with a spin-off story.
This was probably your most predictable story that I've read. From the part when Chris "hired" Street to protect himself from Val, I knew exactly how the rest of the story would go save for the stuff between Val and Street which we didn't really get to experience yet.
ReplyDeleteThat being said, I like how it sets up a more character driven story between Val and Street with what happened between them. You know I am a fan of Val, so anything where he is featured is going to be good and hot.
Definitely continue with the character development stuff, it's your best stuff currently.
I almost never set out to be unpredictable. It happens sometimes because anyone can beat anyone and readers might not know what’s in my head, but mostly my goal is to follow the setup in a logical and believable way.
DeleteVery hot story. Excited to read the spin-off story. This one was predictable given Street’s role to prevent Val from interfering but that didn’t make the outcome or the ‘stakes’ any less hot. The idea of beefy Street taking it from the little devil offstage just whet my appetite to read all about it.
ReplyDeletePoor Master Peace. He seems to be a confirmed jobber with tons of useless muscle. I’d love to see Moneymaker against Blue Collar Beef or the latter against Jae someday.
Thanks again! (I saved up these stories for vacation reading and am enjoying the feast!)
Thanks! Chris is definitely falling fast. He needs to get his head in the game. But guys can always bounce back. He’s got the body, just needs the brain.
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