CLAW 16: Gay Wrestling Weekend (Pt. 3 of 5)

HOLIDAY HOTEL & SUITES. GRAPEVINE TX.

CHECKING IN AT THE FRONT DESK.

“Enjoy your stay, Mr. Rekert.”

I nod, “Thanks. I hope to.” I pat the gold title belt around my waist, “With any luck, I’ll have two of these when I leave Monday morning.”

I sling my duffel bag over my shoulder. To get to my room, I need to cross the huge center area where the weekend’s wrestling action will take place. I pause and breathe. I’ve been wrestling for 15 years but I still get anxious before a big match. Being the East Texas Pro Wrestling heavyweight champion isn’t a big deal in the wrestling world but it gives me a title to show I’m legit.

Again.

I sigh. I’ve come so close to success so many times. There was the time when I -

Stop.

I’m not going to wallow in mistakes, missteps and missed opportunities. I’m 33, 6’1” and a muscular 220-lbs. I’m a happy, healthy and handsome bi guy with everything a man could want. A good body. Good day job that pays my bills and lets me wrestle on the side. Money in the bank. Nice home. Married to a great woman in an open relationship that works for us.

Pro wrestling is a crapshoot. I knew that. I know it. Luckily, I have my wife and she’s patient. Wrestling has been more of a hobby for the past couple of years. I’m not crisscrossing the country, driving all day for a show and all night to get home. Unless it’s a major opportunity, I stick within two hours and only on weekends. ETPW is perfect for me, even if it’s the smallest of the small time.

Still, a guy can dream. And being here at Wrestling Pride makes me dream. A bunch of gay and bi wrestling studs in one place, on one card. I’m gonna be wrestling the champion of another small fed tomorrow. Even smaller than ETPW. But there are promoters here from mid-size feds who are getting guys to the promised land. This a chance to be seen. Again.

I accepted the invite immediately and now, standing in the center dome where the ring will be, with tons of chairs to be set up and rooms overlooking the action, I know I did the right thing.

A hot young stud passes me. We lock eyes and nod. He has a cocky smirk and hungry look. He has the body to be a wrestler but he could be a fan. Fuck yeah. My dick twitches. Yeah, this is also a chance to screw around. A guys’ weekend full of horny gay wrestlers and horny gay ring rats looking to get fucked by a wrestler. Pretty much everyone will be putting out.

“REKS!”

I shake out of my daze and look over. Guys are starting the ring setup. Who called me? Oh shit, I know that guy. Champ! From Ring of Wrestling. I met him a few years back when they visited Texas. I was a local added to the low card. He was chasing the title. We hit it off. He fucked my ass in the parking lot. I’m normally a top, but I go all ways and he’s a major stud.

The former ROW champion is 32, 6’2” and 230-lbs of smoldering muscle. He looks gorgeous. Shirtless and supremely confident in just black trunks and sneakers. His smooth body is on display, announcing that he’s the man. Fuck. Champ is also handsome, with strong features, short dark hair and a tight beard. Everything about him is fucking hot.

Champ has to be the biggest star here. He’s a guy who’s really close to moving up. Shocked it hasn’t happened for him. Amazing ring work and on the mic. He recently lost the belt to a young guy, so I assumed it was to clear him for his exit but he’s still at ROW. None of my business. I’m just happy he remembers me. Dude is smiling as I close the gap. We lock hands and bro hug. He gives my back a slap and holds it.

The stud says, “Good to see you, man. I thought you retired until Jefe showed me the lineup.”

His hot breath tickles my ear and I swear he deliberately scratches his scruff on my neck. I flinch and he chuckles. When his free hand reaches around and cups my ass, I know this is all deliberate. He whispers, “Got my dick twitching when I got to your name.” I guess he really does remember me. We break and make small talk. He asks about my wife. I’m surprised he remembers.

I give him every signal that I’m free this weekend, stopping just short of stripping and bending over. The sudden growl in his voice and bulge in his jeans tells me that he’s getting what I’m putting down. Sweet.

I ask with a hint of surprise, “Are you setting up the ring?”

Champ nods, “Yep.” He asks, “What, you think I’m too good for it?”

I answer honestly, “I mean, yeah. I figured it’d be us scrubs doing it. I was shocked Jefe could get you. You’re the biggest star here this weekend.”

“I appreciate you saying that.” Champ looks past me at someone. He breathes in and out before smiling and pointing. “But there’s a bigger star here this weekend and he’s standing right behind you.”

From behind me, I hear, “What? You’re not talking about me!”

I turn and see a tall blond stud. 6’5”. 230-lbs. He’s shirtless in short shorts. Nice body. The kid (he’s 22) is smiling and chill. Damn, he looks just like his dad, uncle and grandfather. Jack Justice. The third man to wear that name into the ring. He’s the young wrestler who took the ROW belt off Champ. I was shocked he got a shot much less beat the main man.

Champ smiles and waves the kid to join us, “I sure am talking ‘bout you. You’re the face of ROW, man.”

“Stop. I’m a kid who got lucky. You’ll get this belt back. If you’re around. WWL is coming for you, Champ. I know it.”

I can’t help but smile. Seeing their camaraderie is warming. Champ is being so cool. I could see guys being bitter about dropping their belt to a young legacy wrestler. A kid with a famous name and every advantage. I probably would be. But they’re acting like buddies. And Jack is a sweet kid. The more we talk, the more I like him. He could be a cocky punk, but he’s not.

After quick intros, Jack reminds us, “Hey guys, this ring isn’t going to build itself.”

We turn to help but the other guys have it well in hand. Every wrestler here has done set up, so they don’t need us. We watch them haul the metal and wood into place.

I sigh, “I’m a little disappointed. I love getting that sweat and pump from hauling that shit.”

Jack grins, “You mean you get more pumped than this?” He reaches out and squeezes my bicep, “I figured you just got done with push-ups.” His big strong hand slides over my pecs. “I wish I was wrestling you this weekend. Title vs. title.”

I smile proudly as the kid worships me. I knew this weekend would be full of sex but I never expected one of my hookups to be the young ROW heavyweight champion.

Champ volunteers, “Could happen.” Jack’s hand falls away as we both look at my buddy. “Just saying, you each have sanctioned matches, but there’ll be lots of private matches happening, too. We’ve got a couple of hours to kill before the reception. The ring is under control.”

I nod, “True.” I look at Jack, trying not to seem too desperate to get a shot at his sweet young ass, “You open to that? A little private action?”

Jack beams at me, “Hell yeah! I’d love to wrestle you.”

Champ says, “What about a three-way?” We look at him, neither answering. He scowls, “Wait a minute guys. It was my idea. You can’t leave me out of my own idea.”

I grin, “Love to include you, Champ, you know that, but three of us on one bed?”

“Bed? Dude, didn’t they tell you? There are mats in the smaller conference rooms. All laid out for guys to stretch and do … whatever. Lots of room for the three of us to have a match. Titles and asses on the line. C’mon, men.”

Jack smiles, “Yeah, that sounds - wait a minute.” He frowns, “Am I getting hustled here? Is this you trying to get my belt off me? You two old friends lure me into a match and take my title?”

I’m surprised at the accusation, but I guess I can see it from his point-of-view. I reassure him, “No, no. This is totally unplanned. We’re not going to double team you.”

“Uh huh.” Jack seems skeptical. He rubs his crotch, “You guys have me horny, but lemme think on the title thing. I don’t wanna lose it this way.” Champ and I wait. He says to the older ROW stud, “You can’t win a belt. You don’t have one to lose, so you can’t win it.”

Champ frowns, “What do I win?”

I offer, “My ass?”

“I already have that, Reks. You were gonna give it to me before Jack showed up.” I can’t deny that. He looks at Jack, “Okay. I win, I want another title shot with you.” Back to me, “And one with you. If I can’t get a belt, I can at least set myself up for a couple of title shots.”

I accept immediately, knowing a match vs. Champ is a win for me no matter what. Anything he does is bound to get noticed and I could use the publicity. And he’s right. He was going to get my ass anyway. It’s a no lose situation for me. Jack, on the other hand? Jack is thinking long and hard about this. He goes through the angles, looking back and forth between us.

Jack finally agrees with a caveat for me, “Same deal for you, stud. My belt is off the table. Can’t lose my title before tomorrow. But you win, you get a shot at my title at an upcoming ROW show. Ratings always go up when I wrestle, so the boss will love a little side match with a local scrub - no offense - during my current feud.”

I nod, “Deal.” Wow, that’s a huge incentive. I don’t like being called a scrub, but it’s not inaccurate. This weekend just keeps getting better and better. I only arrived fifteen minutes ago and I’ve already got too hot studs, sex and an ROW title shot on the table. Fuck yeah.

—————

THE MAT ROOM

I'm wearing my practice trunks.

We’re stripped to trunks before you know it. I’m in brown trunks with a dinosaur scale pattern on them. For my big match, I’ll be in a skimpier version with a green scale pattern on it, but I brought a bunch of different colors for this weekend. Champ is in his usual black, while Jack is wearing jobber baby blue. Damn, he’s such a cutie. Looks like the kid’s a face out of the spotlight, too.

My main event gear.

We warmup separately. Jack is chatty, but Champ and I are focused on stretching. I answer him, not wanting to be rude, but I don’t start anything. I can’t believe this young buck beat Champ. It makes him dangerous. I get that. However, he’s just so young and naive. I almost feel bad, taking advantage of him. Until I think about the opportunity he’s offering. I’m good.

Champ demands to start against me. I wonder if he’s pissed about the kid horning in. Champ basically had my ass and now there’s a question about who’ll be fucking who. No, wait. It was his idea. The three-way. I know he blew his follow-up chance to win back his title. Maybe he saw an opportunity to use me to beat Jack and get a third try. I hope not, because I’m not going to gang up on the young stud. I promised I wouldn’t.

REKS VS. CHAMP!

I lock up with big muscle stud immediately. I’m ready to go. We push and strain against each other. He’s bigger and stronger but not by a ton. I’m still a big dude, so I hold my own. Our muscles pump up as we work. Champ manages to shift and trick me, feinting one way before twisting in the other. He locks on a side headlock and I grunt. I see stars as he cranks on it.

The big man is a powerhouse. I can’t wait. I grab his butt and behind his knee. I lift his 230-lbs up and fall back, bringing him down in a side suplex. BOOM! Champ lands hard on his back and shoulders. His legs fly up, giving me an easy opening. I roll him up into a cradle, folding him up and pinning his shoulders flat. I use my 220-lbs of power to hold him in place.

Jack says, “Nice move, Reks.”

“Thanks.”

The young stud laughs, “C’mon, Champ. You pinned already? You keep going down faster and faster, boy.”

The ‘boy’ taunt must sting because Champ replies with a roar. He pushes and extends his legs. It’s sudden and mighty. The muscle stud easily powers free, overcoming me with shocking ease. I roll off him and toward Jack who’s casually sitting with one knee up like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And he probably doesn’t. He’s mat side for two older hunks going at it.

I spin and move to one knee. I’m between them, so I turn and slide to make a triangle where I can see both of these studs. I don’t think Jack would attack from behind, but instincts are instincts. In three-way matches, never forget about the third man. I move into a three-point stance, one foot, one knee and one hand down. I can move fast if Champ comes at me.

The muscular hunk as he rolls around onto his feet, standing tall. He looks past me with clear anger in his red face, flush from being upside down. Champ stares down Jack, “I wasn’t even close to getting pinned.”

Jack smirks, looking proud at getting under his older ROW rival’s skin. There’s a lot of tension between these two. I’ll have fun rolling around with Champ a little while longer, but I have feeling that I’m going to have to sit out for a bit while these two settle things. Champ is staring at Jack so intently that he’s looking past me, not at me. Yeah, there’s something between them.

I dive forward, flying at Champ’s abs. WHOMP! I barrel him down onto the mat. SPLAT! The wind leaves his powerful body and I slither on top. I pin his wrists down beside his ears as I focus on wrapping up his legs. I get my feet flexed around his ankles and open him up into a grapevine. Champ grunts under me, getting his bearings and re-focusing on me.

Not like a veteran to make a rookie mistake, so I need to make the most of it. I release his wrists and apply a front facelock. I squeeze his head. Champ pushes on my body, but I’m too solid for that. Jack lets out a low whistle, “Sweet view. You gotta nice bulge, Reks. And the old boy there, well, I always love seeing up between his legs.” I ignore him, squeezing harder.

Jack keeps talking as a little cockiness comes through, “Looks like someone’s hungry for the big time. Better do something, old boy.”

The young stud is right. I am hungry for a return to TV and a shot at a real title. But Champ isn’t close to losing. Jack’s just taunting him, not showing him any respect. The muscle stud reacts. He punches my sides. POW! THUD! POW! My thick muscle walls hold firm. Champ growls and punches in my armpits. THUD! THUD! His fists sink into the soft flesh and I flinch as he thrashes his legs.

It’s all he needs to get one leg free. He plants his foot and pushes up while throwing his body to the right. We roll and I lose him. Champ throws me off with authority, As he does, I kick out, hitting him in the abs. WHOMP! He gasps and I swing my other leg, clipping him across the head. WHACK! Champ goes down, stunned. I dive on his back and lock on a half nelson.

Under me, Champ moans, “Fuck.”

It feels good to dominate him. Champ struggles under me. I try to control his legs as I push his face into the mat. The muscle stud is a lot of man. Too much to keep down for long. He bucks up and throws me off. As he scrambles up, I clip his knee. Champ goes back down onto his back. BOOM! I grab a leg and flip him over into a single leg crab. The powerhouse groans.

I torture his back as Jack moves to look at the muscle stud’s hanging pouch. The smirk tells me that the young stud is loving seeing it. We lock eyes and Jack actually looks impressed. Awesome. It’s weird, looking for respect and approval from a 22-year old but this one has a lot of power. His respect and approval could help re-start my wrestling career.

Under me, Champ suddenly kicks out. Damn, I let myself get lost in the kid’s stare. As soon as he’s free, the muscle hunk spins and dives over me at Jack, arm extended. I grab his ankle but I can’t pull him back fast enough. At 6’3”, Champ has range and he’s trying to tag a 6’5” kid. They can pretty much reach right across the mat to they both stretch out.

Jack accepts the tag.

SLAP!

TAG! REKS VS. JACK!

I get up, standing tall and proud of how I handled Champ. This is good. It’s my chance to wrestle with the Ring of Wrestling heavyweight champion. When will I have this opportunity again? Hopefully soon if I can prove myself.

Stop.

I need to get out of my head and just focus on my moves. I’m tall but the kid is taller. He rises up to his full height. He steps past Champ and gives the older ROW stud a little kick. WHACK! He says, “You could’ve at least softened him up for me. Geez.” A head shake and a smile at me, “I sure hope I can give you a challenge, Reks. You’ve been the man so far.” I smile at that.

I’m the biggest, toughest guy at ETPW. The smaller the indie fed, the smaller the talent. It’s been a while since I’ve faced anyone bigger or taller than me. Felt good, working with a solid stud like Champ. Now, I’ve got the kid who’s a big man, too. Jack grins at me. He’s young and hungry. And sexy. I take it all in. I love seeing his confidence. It suits him better than humility.

Jack asks, “You done admiring me? Should we go?”

“Yeah. Was just sizing you up.”

“Uh huh. Your big dick says you look what you see.”

I look down at my bulge. Jack charges, but I’m not fooled. I looked down so he’d do exactly this. I step to the side and trip him down. The young stud topples forward and lands hand on his face and chest. SPLAT! He’ll only be stunned for a moment, but that’s all I need. I jump on his back, coming down hard. SPLAT! I slap on a rear naked choke, looking to end this fast.

Experience 1. Youth 0.

I squeeze hard with every intention of knocking him out if I can. With a title shot on the line, I can’t afford to play around. Jack fights me. He grunts under me as he counters the hold by twisting and getting one hand in there. Damn. I work it and we struggle hard. He’s writhing under me, legs moving as I spread my knees out to brace myself and keep him down.

Champ growls, “Now I got the sweet view. Still love that ass, Reks.” Gotta ignore that. “Hole still as tight as it was that night in the parking lot?” What’s he doing? Trying to distract me? “Yeah, loved plowing that muscle ass against my car. Your bulge fucking dented the door I slammed you so hard.”

Nope. I need to focus. Jack’s gonna get free. I try to get ahead of him. I push off, dragging him with me. I roll us onto my back, keeping the choke. I wrap my legs around his body and squeezing. I still can’t put Jack out. He’s under control, but he’s a lot to handle. I have the choke locked for control and instead focus on the body scissors, squeezing hard.

I earn a grunt, but Champ says, “Stalemate, man. C’mon, you gotta try something else, Reks.”

I growl, “No, barely started on the scissors.”

Champ says, “Yeah, that’s never gonna do anything other than hug him.”

“Yeah? We’ll see.”

I surprise both of them by switching my failed choke for a full nelson. They were both focused on my legs and never saw it coming. Jack grunts, “Fuck!” I lock my hands and collapse his shoulders. Now, I gotta make it hurt. I stretch the young stud out, pulling down with my legs and up with the nelson. Jack moans louder, in obvious pain. I stretch his 6’5” with all I’ve got.

Jack’s tough. Young guys have that innate resilience where they don’t know when to quit. I work the holds hard, getting the right sounds, but no submission. Again, Champ is on me. “Good move, but he’s not giving, Reks.” In response, I amp up the pressure and go for it again. Jack lets out a high-pitched whine but he doesn’t give. Champ says, “Nice but no dice.”

I growl, “Fuck off!”

The young stud resolves it, using my divided focus to roll us. We flip twice and my grip loosens up enough that Jack can power out. He rises to hands and knees, but I’m still on top of him. I plant my feet, straddling his waist. I jump up and drive my ass down on his back. WHOMP! He goes down flat on his front. SPLAT! I put my knee in the center of his back and grab inside his elbows. I lift his arms up and back.

Jack tries to fight but I’m stronger than he is and I have position. He curses and kicks his legs in frustration. I extend his arms and slide my hands to grab his wrists. I point his hands to the ceiling and push forward. His shoulders stop me but the pained cries tell me it’s working. My 220-lbs of muscle digs into his back, keeping him pinned and helpless.

I push his arms another couple of inches forward and he cries out.

Jack gasps, “Tap my foot, bitch!”

I laugh, “Who are you calling bitch?”

I get my answer when I hear the weak slap of hand hitting foot behind me.

PAT!

What the fuck? Champ’s tagged in.

TAG! REKS VS CHAMP!

Fuck. Champ circles in front. I ask, “Why’d you tag him? He’s not worn down yet.”

I get a frown and I know I’m in trouble. I drop Jack’s arms but it’s too late. Champ runs in and clotheslines me. THWAK! The arm hits high and nearly takes my head off. I fly backward, landing hard on the mat five feet back. The bigger muscle stud is on me, driving his foot down on me. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The young champion joins in. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

My pecs and abs are crushed under their relentless assault. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The kid is swinging out his shoulders as they treat me like grapes in wine country. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! When they pause, I try to scramble out between them. I roll over and move, but they each grab an ankle. They use my legs to flip me over, switching legs. I look up in horror.

“Guys, don’t!”

Jack gives me a nasty grin, “Ah, the Make-a-Wish boy doesn’t want us to make a wish.” They each pull a leg outward, tearing my groin. I cry out and roll onto my side in the fetal position. The young punk says, “Handle him this time, bitch.”

What?

Champ replies, “Yes, Sir.”

WHAT?

The older (older than Jack not me) muscle stud kicks me hard onto my back. WHOMP! Champ is up in the air. I see the leg drop coming but I can’t move in time. His thick leg, backed up by 230-lbs of plummeting muscle, crashes down across my chest. WHAM! OOF! After all the stomps, my thickly-muscled pecs barely resist the impact. I’m still left coughing and hurting.

I’m also confused. Bitch. Sir. Double teaming. The kid calling the shots. There’s no time to question what I’ve gotten myself into. Champ is dragging me up by my right wrist. He forces me to my knees. On the way, I swing a big left into his abs. THUD! He grunts but immediately grabs my head. Champ rakes my eyes and I cry out. I spin around on my knees, blinking.

Champ has free reign now. He pulls me up fast, scooping me across his chest. The older ROW stud bodyslams me down. BOOM! I arch my back as pain shoots up my spine. He slams his foot into my pelvis. STOMP! I go down. Next thing I see is Champ leap up. I try to get my knees up but I’m too slow. He splashes on top of me. SPLAT! 230-lbs of muscle drives my air out of me.

The heavyweight muscle stud is relentless. He grabs my head as he slides off me. Champ pulls my face to his crotch while he sits back. He wraps his legs around my head and closes up with a figure-four head scissors. I’m smothered by his bulge and my head is crushed. I writhe in pain. Trying to stay conscious and get out of this. I push on his legs but he grabs my wrists.

I barely hear Jack’s voice. He’s laughing, “Look at that boy squirm. Good job presenting his ass to me, bitch.” Champ growls and squeezes. The young stud says, “Your Man just gave you a compliment.”

Champ growls, “Thanks, Sir.” He says, “I’m kind of busy here.” A long pause. “Sir.”

Jack says, “You hear that, loser? You getting the deal?” I ignore the mocking. Of course I’m getting the deal, but the deal is going to knock me out. Wait. Knock me out. That’s it. I collapse, going limp. The young stud yells, “You idiot? Did you put him out?”

The older ROW muscle stud says, “No! I’m just wearing him down. He’s playing possum.” Another pause. “Sir.”

A big paw grips my ass. “That right?” He wedges my trunks up my ass. I squirm As my balls are crushed by spandex. “Oh, yeah, he is playing dead.” A hand comes down on my bare right cheek. SMACK! The spank stings. I thrash. “Tricky boy. Next time you try something like that, I’ll use my belt. Tan your hide like my granddaddy Jack used to do to me.”

I settle down and go back to fighting to escape. The headlock is looser now at least. Jack is groping my ass, toying with my muscular cheeks. Ordering me to flex them. I obey, hoping it buys me an opening to get out of here. A finger slides inside and presses against my hole. I fight that. Wildly shifting, the finger follows me. Threatening me. Laughter and playful spanks.

“Good boy. I like you, Reks. Damn, do I like you. Keep fighting and you’ll get out of this with a sweet opportunity. Try another trick like you pulled and we’ll fuck you and leave you with nothing. Got it?” I fight harder. “Yeah, the boy gets it.” He tickles my hole. “Bitch, tighten up but be fucking careful. I want in.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Champ does as he’s ordered. The figure-four headlock tightens up and I see stars. I go limp, but I keep my arms and legs moving. The older ROW muscle stud opens up and slides away. He spins me around so I’m facing jack. I look up to see their two hands hit. Fuck.

SLAP!

TAG! REKS VS. JACK!

Jack says, “You’re such a stud, Reks. Better than I hoped. I mean, you’re gorgeous, but you’re small time. A nobody. Who knew you could actually hang with the big Men.”

I try to crawl forward. Jack sits on my back. He pulls me up into a camel clutch. Fuck! I fight his control, but I have no shot. Not after being edged with unconsciousness. His 220-lbs presses down on my ass, grinding my manhood into the mat. With the wedgie crushing my junk, I really feel it. Jack locks my arms and I’m trapped. Fuck! He playfully swats my head, taunting me.

“Yeah, you like being my boy?” I fight harder to power out, using every trick I know. He counters all of them. “You guys think all your experience matters against me. Bitch was the same way.” He forces me to look at Champ. I can’t read him, but I know he hates this. Jack says, “He’s not gonna help you. He’s mine. Just like you.”

I look Champ in the eye and he looks away. That tells me all I need to know.

Jack laughs, “Yeah, Bitch is embarrassed. He was gonna sneak off this weekend, be a big Man again. Lucky, I caught him. What you big macho guys never get is that I was trained by the all-time best since before I hit puberty. Grandpa Jack and Dad never went easy on me. Fuck, boy, I probably have more experience than you. I own guys like you.”

I run out of steam and tricks. Jack can feel my resignation. He pulls back harder, getting me to scream in pain. “Yeah, that’s what I wanna hear. Pretty flexible.”

I grunt, “Yoga.” It’s something my wife got me into. It helps but only to a point.

Jack wraps on a sleeper. “You like being edged, don’t you?”

I shake my head. Not again. I beg, “Please, Jack, don’t knock me out.”

The young stud tightens up and I go limp under him. “That’s nice, boy. But you don’t need to worry, I’m not knocking you out. When I end this, and it will be me ending it, it’s gonna be with you screaming a submission.” I struggle again. “Damn, I really like you, Reks. You’re a fighter.” He aims my face at a stoic Champ. “You’re already more of a Man than Bitch.”

I moan, “Lemme free and we can fight.”

In an affected meathead voice, Jack teases, “Uh, duh, okay, I’ll do that.” He snarls, “Did you really think that would work?”

The young champion doesn’t let me answer, instead fish hooking my mouth. His fingers slide inside my cheeks and pull outward. I moan as he stretches my lips to the max. All I can do is whimper and kick my feet. With a laugh, he releases the camel. “Damn, I love dominating you older guys. Look at you. Red ass. Writhing between my feet. You got me hard, boy.”

Jack follows up with three stiff knee drops to my lower back, right where the camel wore me down. THWAK! THWAK! THWAK! He drives his feet into my back, keeping me down. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Just brutally wearing me down. I pathetically reach out to tag Champ, hoping he has a change of heart. He can’t like being treated like this young punk’s bitch.

My former buddy shakes his head, “Sorry, man, but that ain’t happening.”

Jack drops down and rubs my face on the mat, scrunching my nose and lips into the vinyl and pulling side to side. It’s as humiliating as it sounds. He laughs, “Are you really not getting it? Bitch is my total bitch. He’s not gonna save you. He knew exactly what I had planned.”

The young punk forces me up to a seated position. He spins me so my back is to my former buddy. Jack sits behind me and wraps his long legs under my armpits and locks his feet behind my head in a leg nelson. I moan in pain. It’s a crushing hold. I’m forced to look down between my legs, whimpering and dripping sweat. I try to push back, but I can’t manage it.

“Lemme show you exactly who’s side Botch is on.”

I hear hands smack together.

SLAP!

TAG! REKS VS. CHAMP!

I’m trapped. Double teamed by two heavyweights from Ring of Wrestling. Yeah, I’m usually an optimistic person but right now? I’m not seeing a way outta this that doesn’t end up with me completely fucked.

Champ sits in front of me. He grabs my ankles and plants his big right foot against my bulge in my wedged trunks. I whimper and beg him not to do it, even though I know it’s a waste of time. But Jack can’t see how much pressure Champ is applying. Maybe I can get him to go easy on me. As soon as the older ROW muscle stud’s foot presses down, I go wild, selling it like crazy.

Jack laughs, “Oh shit, Bitch. Great job. He’s a fucking wild one. A fucking trapped animal. I love it. Go harder. I wanna hear the boy really scream.”

Champ pushes in a little more and I give Jack what he wants to hear. I don’t know if I fool Champ but he doesn’t completely crush my manhood. Jack is laughing behind me, loving the sounds of my cries. The pressure on my bulge is still painful though. I beg Champ to ease up. Jack warns him not to, but he does. I sell like he went the other way.

Jack says, “That’s probably five seconds.”

Yeah, right. More like 50 seconds.

The young punk releases leg nelson. Champ slides away. I collapse into the fetal position, holding my balls and crying in pain. Jack crouches down by my head, “Don’t give until I get back, boy. We won’t accept it. You can’t screw me over. Bitch knows he can’t win.”

I growl, “Fuck you.”

Stupid, I know but I need him to understand that he can beat on me. have Champ beat on me. Insult me. Fuck me. Double fuck me. I won’t be broken. I’ll never be his boy or bitch or whatever. I think he gets that because he forces my onto my front and spanks the crap outta my ass. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! It must be red as hell.

“That’s what happens to bad boys who don’t listen.”

Since I’m being stupid, I ask, “Is that what happened to you? Did Grandpa and Daddy Jack spank Little Jack?” I remember reading an interview where it was revealed that number three here was called that.

Little Jack unleashes hell on me, wildly raining forearms down on top of me. I weather it. My upper back is broad, thick and strong. When he tires out, he says to Champ, “Bitch tag me in immediately. I’m finishing this asshole.”

I don’t bother to look up. I just listen for the hands coming together.

SLAP!

TAG! REKS VS. JACK!

“You were being a good boy. You shouldn’t have set me off.”

I growl, “Thought you wanted a fighter.”

Jack actually laughs, “Yeah, but that was fighting dirty.”

“Dirty like using a buddy to set up a small-time guy and double team his ass.”

“Ooh, fuck, I do like you, boy.”

Jack drags me up by my head. I throw a punch at his abs. THUD! It bounces off. He gets me up and gives me a big knee to my gut. WHOMP! I bend forward and he locks me in a side headlock. Jack runs forward, pulling me with him. Oh no! He jumps and brings me down, slamming my head onto the mats. CRACK! The Justices are famous for their bulldogs.

Now, I know why.

I am out of it.

Jack sits on my back, facing down my body. His ass rests on the back of my head. He mocks me, “I own you.” The young stud pulls up on the wedgie. That wakes me up. I go nuts as my hips rise. I cry out and pound the mat, trying to throw him off me. Jack maintains his balance and gets my ass up high. Champ is close, watching my humiliation. I whip my hand out.

The older ROW stud barely dodges the tag. He scrambles back.

The young stud laughs, “Bitch, you are so lucky. Nice try, boy. Not that tagging would help you. But damn, you are one tough bull, aren’t you? Thinking you actually might not break.” Jack lets go of my trunks. He spins around and lies on top of me. His mouth is at my ear. “Still wanna hear you submit, boy.” I shake my head. “Nice.” A kiss to my ear, “Good boy.”

Jack grabs my head and the back of my trunks. He forces me up to my feet. He’s behind me. I’m so wobbly, I just stand in front of him like a jobber. He locks on a standing full nelson. Oh fuck. Jack shakes me from side to side. I’m like a rag doll. He leans back, using his height advantage to pull my feet off the mat. I dangle helplessly, my neck and shoulders screaming.

I won’t give though.

The young punk shakes me again. Left. Right. Left. Right. I’m not resisting. I can’t. But I’m not giving. I’d rather go out that give him the satisfaction. Jack throws me to the mat. SPLAT! I land and bounce, ending up on my back, arms and legs spread out. I blink as the fluorescent lights blind me. God, I hate fluorescent lights. Jack grabs my legs and lifts them. Oh fuck. What now?

I’m expecting a crab but it’s much, much worse. He steps around and over, being my left leg as he does. Oh no. My reactions are too slow. I crunch up to punch him to counter but my fists flies by hitting nothing but air. WHOOSH! I collapse back to the sound of soft laughter. It’s Jack. He says, “Fighting until the bitter end. Love it. You could learn from him, Bitch.”

Jack falls back and puts his leg over my left ankle, securing a perfect figure-four leg lock. The pain hits instantly. It’s a crippling hold from the first minute. I hate figure fours! I thrash and throw my upper body around. My screams are real and loud. I try to flip us over but he blocks it. I whimper and beg, but Jack says calmly, “You know what I want to hear, boy.”

I have no choice.

Fuck.

“I GIVE! YOU WIN! YOU WIN!”

Jack opens his legs, “Good boy.”

The young stud does in. He squats at my head, “Some guys would be mad about your stubbornness. Your refusal to admit defeat. But not me. I like working for my meal. I like knowing you’re a tough guy. I love breaking down guys like you. You’re my boy now.”

I’m pissed but I know I’m in no position to fight or challenge the young champion.

—————

SCREWED.

Fuck. These two played me. Jack, pretending like he was worried about double teamed to keep me from thinking the same. It’s lucky that there were no belts on the line. I strip down naked for stakes and stretch out. I can handle being fucked by the 22-year-old ROW heavyweight champion. I’ve been topped by a lot worse. I get loose and ready.

When I head over to my bag for lube, I notice my title belt is gone. I turn to see Champ securing it around Jack’s waist. The ROW champion has stripped his trunks. My belt hangs on his waist, resting on his hard cock. I remind him, “Belts were off the table, remember?”

The young punk tilts his head, “Sorry, sport, but belts were on the table. I took mine off. Did you take yours off? I didn’t hear you say your belt wasn’t on the line. Did you hear that, bitch?” The older ROW man shakes his head but he doesn’t look happy about being called a bitch. Jack asks me with a giant smirk, “Well? Do you remember saying your belt wasn’t on the line?”

I hesitate. No, I don’t think I did. I just assumed that when he took his belt off, it meant mine wasn’t. How could I be so stupid? Oh yeah, he offered me a title match. On TV. One that he knew he’d never have to deliver because they set me up. I was so distracted by that that I didn’t even think about it. FUCK! I really fucked up this time.

Jack smirks as he reads my face, “That’s right, you didn’t. At least you’re honest about it.”

“Look, Jack, c’mon, man -”

“Shut up. It’s time for stakes. I’ll talk about my reign as EP - E - what the fuck is the name of this?” I’m too stunned to answer, so he looks at the belt. “Oh, yeah. What a stupid name. Who makes their name a fucking tongue twister. Whatever. I’ll talk about being heavyweight champion of this place when I’m done with you.”

I nod, hoping he’ll be reasonable after a fuck. I can’t afford to piss him off. Champ’s a bitch. Literally. He’s the young punk’s bitch. I don’t get it, but the older ROW guy is backing him up. Now I wonder if he lost his title or if he gave it up. Another reason that I need to play along like a good boy. His stiff dick tells me that Jack gets off on older guys being subservient. I think he must’ve planned this, so he had his eyes set on me specifically. Why? I don’t know.

I march over and immediately lower myself to my knees in front of him. He likes that. I put the lube on the floor and bow my head, awaiting instructions. What else can I do? He’s holding all the cards. I feel a big paw on my head. Jack rubs my head, calling me a ‘good boy’, telling me to keep up the good work and that I’m going to love getting plowed by a real stud.

Jack forces my head up to look him in the eye, “The way you came running to get Champ’s dick up your ass? Like a thirsty dog finding a puddle.” He turns to smirk at Champ, “A pothole full of old, gross, dirty water, but no accounting for taste.” Back to me, “He swore he could get you but I didn’t think it’d be so fucking easy. Fuck yeah, you’re a slutty pup, aren’t you?”

I don’t think I’m a slut, but I nod, figuring it’s best to go along to get along. It confirms they set me up from the start. Fuck. I don’t know why Champ would do this to me, but I also never expected to see him be a young punk’s bitch like this, either. Did he fall into a trap, too? Get duped? I thought he threw his title because he was moving up. Was this the real reason?

I get pulled toward his cock. I open my mouth and take Jack. His cock is long but average thickness. I can go pretty deep but he wants to hear me gag. I get pulled past what I can handle. I choke on the 22-year-old’s meat. He holds me there and I instinctively panic a little. I hold it together until he pulls out. I cough and sputter, knowing my face is red.

“Yeah, you’re a real thirsty dog.” The young punk removes his hand, “Get to work, pup.”

I nod, happy to be able to control the blowjob. I lick the shaft, starting at the base and slowly moving to the head. When I reach it, I flick my tongue on the piss slit. Jack flinches. I engulf the tip and keep using my tongue. My hand grip his cock at the base, slowly pumping as I suck and lick the most sensitive part. Jack moans. I look up and we lock eyes. He nods.

“Fuck yeah. Keep looking at me.” I knew he’d like it. The young punk breaks the stare to look at Champ. “You could learn something from this pup, bitch.” Jack looks at me, “You sure know how to treat a man. Maybe I should get you into ROW. Have your mouth around all the time.” He looks away again, “I should have a stable. You and this one as my tag team enforcers.”

The idea of getting to ROW has me redoubling my efforts. Not the way I want to get there but what’s done is done. Jack has to grab my head for support. I go deeper, moving my hand down so I can choke on his cock. He’s groaning and cursing about how good it feels. My face is red but I time breathing through my nose with every time I pull back.

Suddenly, Jack gets distracted, “Don’t even think about touching that dick, bitch!”

I hear a soft, “Yes, Sir” from Champ. Wow, he’s sunk so far.

Back to me. “God damn, gotta keep on him all the time. Get off me, pup. I know you wanna drink a real man’s load, but it’s not going in that way and I’m not giving you two. There’re too many other fucks around here for that.” Jack steps back, “You ever top, pup?”

I nod, “Most of the time.”

Jack looks between my legs at my outstretched cock. It’s not as long as his but it’s at least an inch thicker. He nods, “Yeah, okay, I can see that.” A sinister look crosses his face. He looks at Champ, “Bend over that table, bitch.” My eyes go wide. I don’t dare turn to look at Champ but he must make a face or something because Jack gives him a death glare.

Having a 22-year-old give you a threatening stare to force complying is fucking humiliating. But it works. Champ passes by me. Jack slaps the bareassed muscleman just to add to the domination. SMACK! The older ROW stud bends over the table pushed against the wall. I get pulled to my feet by my chin. Jack pulls me in for a kiss. It’s sloppy and clumsy. I still moan like he knows what he’s doing, wanting to stay in his good graces.

“Pick up the lube, pup.” I nod. He grins, “You know what I got planned?” I nod. “Good. You got a choice. You can only lube one dick and one ass. Who’s it gonna be?”

I don’t even hesitate. Champ betrayed me. I say, “Your dick, my ass.”

Jack laughs, “I like you, boy. Get to it.”

I squat down and starting lubing up my ass. I get my fingers in deep. The young punk loves watching me do it, just another sign of my complete submission to him. I’m thinking he has daddy issues, given how much he enjoys humiliating Champ and me. Jack Justice II was probably an asshole to him. Yeah, we’re only 10-11 years older, but it’s symbolic.

As I work, I make sure to moan. Give the kid a show. When I stand, I squirt out more lube and give Jack a handjob. He pulls me in for another messy kiss. I let him control it, owning my mouth. If he does get me into ROW, I’ll have to teach him how to kiss. For now, I just want to get this over with so we can discuss me getting my belt back. Jack seems to like me so maybe he’ll be cool.

Yeah, I know I sound stupid but it’s all I got.

With us ready, Jack grabs me by the scruff of my neck. He pushes me to Champ. I stumble, making him feel more powerful. He positions me behind the major muscle hunk. “Make it hurt, pup.” I nod and line up my cock. I use my lubed hand to guide myself in. Not for Champ, but for my pleasure. If Jack notices, he doesn’t say anything. Which means he didn’t notice.

With my pre-cum and the lube residue, my cock is slick enough. It slips between Champ’s fat, muscular cheeks. They’re wonderfully smooth. Probably a Jack order. The older ROW stud moans as I push my tip in. I push past his ring and he gasps. I thought I’d get a bigger reaction but I realize that the young punk has been tapping this ass for a while now.

Emboldened, I drive in faster until I’m balls deep in his ass. Champ cries out, lifting his head and gripping the table. There it is. I hold inside him. Jack pats my ass, “Good job, pup. Match me.” I nod. The ROW champion slides his lubed cock inside me. I moan and whimper as he goes. He’s less gentle with me than I was with Champ, reminding me this isn’t about fun.

Jack grabs my shoulders. He starts driving in. We go slow, getting the rhythm down. Champ grunts as over 400-lbs of man slams into him. The 22-year-old stud hammers me and I hammer the 32-year-old hunk. I brace myself with one hand on the back of Champ’s neck and the other pressing down on his broad shoulder. Jack picks up the pace. I focus on me.

My cock is throbbing, staying rock hard as we work. Jack’s pounding me. He’s calling me ‘pup’ and trashtalking me, laying on the domination and dirty talk really thick. He mocks Champ, too, calling him ‘bitch’ as I ravage the helpless hunk’s ass. I’m entirely in on the scene. It’s hotter than getting fucked by Champ. I close my eyes and just enjoy the moment. Fuck!

I start in on Champ, “Take it, bitch. You feel that? You like your young punk master using me to fuck you? You like getting wrecked by his pup-dildo. Fucking traitor. No wonder Jack calls you ‘bitch’. That’s all you are! You are a fucking bitch. Can’t believe I ever thought you were ‘the man’. Take my dick! Jack’s cock feels so good inside me! So much better than yours, bitch!”

Behind me, Jack is laughing and grunting. He starts gasping, loving me humiliating his bitch. He growls, “Woof, the pup has claws. You hear that, bitch?” Champ moans. The young stud growls, “ANSWER ME!”

“Yes, Sir! I hear it!”

“Yeah, you’re the bottom of the barrel now, bitch. Fuck!”

Jack groans louder. He says, “You close, pup?”

I nod, “Close!”

“Fill his ass!”

As if on command, I unleash my load. Both men can feel it. Champ whimpers a soft, ‘no’ as he feels my hot seed paint his insides white. Jack grunts a determined, ‘yes’ as my ass clenches down on his cock as I shoot over and over. It’s a huge load. I came to this weekend primed, never expecting this. Even as I soften, I keep thrusting as Jack relentlessly pounds my ass.

Now, it’s time for the 22-year-old to let go. He erupts inside me with a howl. He loves owning my ass, telling me so as he breeds my ass. His fingers dig into my shoulders, crushing my traps as he empties himself. When he backs off, I miss him. Miss his cock. If not for the circumstances, this is exactly what I wanted this weekend. Fuck. I back off Champ.

Jack forces me to kiss him again before pushing me aside. He heads for the table with towels, grabbing himself one. I wait until he moves aside before doing the same. Champ follows me in. We wipe down our sweaty, pumped bodies in silence.

Okay, time to see if sex has softened the younger punk.

—————

SCREWED AGAIN.

It hasn’t.

After a few minutes of I pleading my case, Jack is intractable. I’m reduced to begging. “Please, Jack. Okay, you suckered the rube. You proved I’m a small-time loser and an idiot. But, c’mon, please just give me the belt back. It can’t mean anything to you, but it means a lot to me. Why would you even want to be ETPW heavyweight champ?”

“Because I can, pup. Enough of this. Yeah, you’re sexy as fuck and you got a great ass, but you really think that’s gonna change my mind? It’s why I wanted this set up. I won the title. It’s mine. As for what happens next, I’ll cut you some slack. I’ll let you ask your boss.”

I’m surprised and confused, “What?”

“Your boss. The promoter. The guy who owns the little dump you work for. Ask him if he wants to recognize me as champ. You bet the belt. It’s gone. A deal’s a deal. The fact that you ‘forgot’ to pull your title off the table when I pulled mine off? Too bad. This piece of junk couldn’t cost more than a few hundred bucks to replace. If y’all want to, I’ll let y’all ignore my win.”

The way he mockingly says ‘y’all’ with an affected drawl makes me want to punch him in the face, but I know that’d be a huge mistake. Just more proof of some family resentment. His granddaddy and father are proud southerners and kept their accents while he doesn’t have one anymore.

Jack smirks, “You ask him, pup. I’ll go along with whatever he decides. Does he refuse to recognize me and buy a new strap? Or, does he seize the chance to lift his nothing promotion up? Does he seize the opportunity to have the PETW -”

I instinctively correct him, “ETPW.”

“Whatever. Does he want his nothing title hanging on the shoulder of THE Jack Justice? Does he want THE Jack Justice, third generation superstar, defending the belt on one of his cards? ROW champ. Destined for the WWL. A guy who’s gonna carry the ETPW title onto national TV. A guy with over 100,000 followers. How many followers you got?” I frown. “That low, eh?”

“I’m a wrestler, not an influencer.”

“You’re nothing, pup. A nobody. You betting the title is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, but it’s the best thing that ever happened to that guy. If you play nice, it could work out for you, too. I’ll kick your ass in public. Lift you up. You wanna be on TV, boy? You wanna have people figure this is a work? An angle? Forbidden door shit? A deal instead of you being an idiot?”

I swallow my pride. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” I’m confused. Jack is more explicit. “You heard how respectful bitch is.”

Oh, I get it. I reply to the duplicitous 22-year old asshole, “Yes,” It catches in my throat but I get it out, “Sir.”

“Yes, sir. Doesn’t quite roll off your tongue. Yet. It’s okay. Took this one -” Jack points his thumb at a red-faced Champ, “- a minute to adjust, too. Work on it. I’ll expect you to have it down next time I see you. Got it, pup?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Fast learner. Keep it up and you’ll get the best opportunity you’ve ever had.” He steps into me, “If you fight me? I’ll leave you crushed in the little leagues.” Jack stares at me intensely. Satisfied I’m submitting to him, he turns, “C’mon, bitch. I gotta get ready for the reception. You gotta polish my belts. I want them extra-shiny when I show my double gold off tonight.”

Champ hangs his head and sighs, “Yes, Sir.” I suddenly feel more sorry for him than angry at him. However he did it, Jack got the hunky stud under his thumb and Champ’s going along unwillingly. I don’t intend to end up the same way but I need time to think it through. The sex was hot, but I don’t believe he’ll get me a spot on ROW, especially as a tag team with Champ.

My dick and my dreams got me into this, I have to use my brain to fix it. Somehow. Jack is letting me tell Lou, the promoter. Or making me do it. How am I going to explain this?

TO BE CONTINUED 5/1 …

The stories converge next chapter, but if you want to read more about what went on with Champ and Jack Justice III, check out Route 69: Bad Boys S104!

Champ also fought Jeff in Route 69 S202: Kansas City MO and Route 69 S208: Quincy MA!