Ode to Submission

He owned me, I knew it, he knew it.  The struggle at this point was really just for show. More for the audience and my own pointless sense of pride.  Going down without a fight was doubly humiliating with a room full of witnesses. His bicep was like a baseball mashed against my throat.

 Every flex of his arm restricting my air flow even more.  I dutifully made all the noises choking and sputtering, tugging at his arms and punching at him fighting the inevitable. My face turning red, the pouch in my trunks swelling as my ears start to ring.  I know the end is near.

He reaches his free hand down, putting the cherry on top choking me out with one arm.  His hand squeezes my growing bulge, massaging my, or rather his manhood. Squeezing his property nestled in my highcut bikini trunks.  A gasping choked moan escapes my constricted throat as he coaxes me further.  A race now to see which will take me first, the classic battle between orgasm and unconsciousness.   My eyes start to flutter as my organ fills out, taking away what little blood was still reaching my head.

My hands manage one last weak flail before falling limply to the mat.  My eyes roll back fluttering.  My defeat documented and witnessed.  The world goes black as my manhood erupts.   Put out cold and milked like a muscle bull that has discovered his hefty balls were in fact udders.  My cum smeared and seeping through my trunks, giving a soaked glaring declaration of who man and bitch were in the ring.   Carted off my back arched over my conqueror's shoulder like so much meat, destiny unknown backstage at the mercy of my new Master.  The crowd's sight zeroes in on the still semi erect tent in my cum smeared trunks.  Destroying any chance of denying that I was helpless and brought to humiliating orgasm in a crushing one sided beating that barely passed for a wrestling match. The last the crowd saw before the slam of the locker room door was my rag of poser trunks slapping the entry ramp, my discarded panties cementing to the walkway.

I was barely coming to, naked and bent over his shoulder, one look stopped any attempted interference.  I felt water hitting me and I realized he had carried me to the showers.  Before I could fully react pain exploded in my lower back and I was over his knee, looking up at his face.  He pushed my chin back, slid his free hand down my wet abs, getting a shiver as his palm brushed my sensitive organ, pushing my thigh down as well, arching my whole body in agony as pressure threatened to permanently damage my spine.  The fear he had put in the locker room kept anyone from looking in as I screamed; in further pain after the humiliating squash job in the ring.

Suddenly the pressure lessened on my chin and leg, and I moaned as the burn in my back sank into a harsh throb.  Then his hand slid between my thighs, stroking my balls that were starting to tingle feeling him taking liberty with my body, proving that he owned me body and mind when I didn't even protest; not that I could fight him off even if I wanted to, he'd already proven the better fighter. 

His fingers slid back, brushing at my entrance, a flinch of surprise and then his arm flexed and his two fingers pushed inside me.  In my gasp feeling him push, he grabbed my hair roughly snatching my head up, my face a breath away from his.  Holding me balanced on his knee as his fingers worked away at me.  His face was hard, cold, his jaw clenched to the point of vibrating as he just stared intensely.   My eyes couldn't move from his, boring deep into me, just like his fingers.  He broke in, getting a whimpering moan from me as the bolt of pleasure threatened to melt every muscle in my body.  He released my hair and grabbed my throat before my head could roll back.  Again he pulled my face close to his, by the vicegrip on my throat this time.

His face held the clenched blank expression that somehow aroused and terrified me in its laser focused intensity.  I felt his breath in sharp puffs against my mouth, my eyes locked with his.  Not wanting to leave his eyes but praying they would stop.  His fingers shift, sending a ripple through his bicep, his hand tightens choking off my moan.  He pulled my face even closer, our noses touching, his stubble scratching my jaw as he nuzzled into my neck, like an animal marking scent.

He shifted his grip on my throat, leaving his thumb tight under my Adam's Apple, not even allowing the illusion that I was going anywhere soon.  My moans came in hitching gasps as his teasing lips and rough chin left me tilting my head willingly, silently begging him to taste me again.  His jawline came in, sliding along mine and slid under, tilting my head back and drawing a low shuddering moan out of me as my neck showed his pathway in red.  The closest thing I'd seen to a smile threatened his mouth before he slid his hand back gripping my throat again.  His muscular arm spasmed, his fingers jerking quickly, spreading me, his choking grip tightened allowing the smallest squeak through my windpipe.  Showing the threat of his full strength he picked up a rhythm.  His fingers pushed in deep, hand tightening around my throat, nearly forcing my tongue past my lips in time with every ripple through his arm.  The vein wrapped over his bicep swelling in time with my arousal as I got harder, thicker, longer, and nearly delirious as I stared up trapped just as much by his gaze as his hands.  

Our eyes were locked; mine desperately pleading, his relentless, penetrating even deeper than his fingers were.  Beating down my resistances on all fronts, worked into an oxygen deprived fit of lust, contributing to the fiery web in his eyes.  My body and soul broke simultaneously, my cock throbbed so hard it audibly thumped my stomach sending a spasm through me.  A clear drop of precum leaked at the same time I shed a tear.  His hand had tightened so far in his relentless rhythm of pushing his fingers into me, massaging, prodding, coaxing, as his other hand worked to take air from me with every hum of mind numbing ecstasy.  Keeping me in constant flux.  More pre leaked on my stomach and my eyes watered more as I weakly pulled at his choking arm and managed to gasp out hoping to save myself, "P....lll.......please...please".      .  

    He released my throat instantly hearing a life saving gasp before snatching my hair up, forcing me to look at his bicep as it flexed and relaxed, each flex of that perfect round muscle sending waves of thick heat through my body.  He took a fuller grip of my hair, running his lips over the rim of my earlobe, breath hot, voice thick, "This,"  he flexed his bicep jabbing his fingers to a direct hit sending a shockwave up my spine.  My writhing wasn't tolerated for long, my hair quickly snatched again and jerked to look at his working bicep.  "Touch it" he commanded jerking my hair again for emphasis as his bicep rolled in time with the pleasure tide he had started. 

I gasped at the feeling with the next flex of muscle.  An invasion, his fingers pressing my sweet spot like a panic button, then through my hands the ripple of muscle under his skin traveled up his arm sending a tingle in my fingers just as the next ripple of pleasure was starting, and I never wanted it to stop.  My abs were burning from partially supporting myself over his knee as I rubbed his arm, feeling him fingerfuck me.  He released my hair, leaving me to keep myself up alone.  My abs were shredded to the max with the effort to flex and balance myself as I fought the urge to buck my hips and fuck myself against his heaven sent fingers.  

He flexed his free arm in front of my face.  Letting his bicep jump with every thrust inside me, "This is your pleasure, " I watched his arm flexing in front of me, again in time with each push inside, "taste it.", he growled. I eagerly worshipped his flexing muscle, kissing and running my tongue over every peak and valley.  Finally I hit the point of no return and I knew it.  I moaned between mouthfuls of rock hard muscle, "I submit, I submit I sub...I submit!" He pulled his fingers out getting a wretched sob of need as my body quivered.  He flung me off of his knee, I hit the wet tile hard unable to catch myself.  

Before I could even begin to rise, my cock painfully hard twitching for release as I moved to push myself up, he was on me, sliding my arms into a tight full nelson.  Torquing my neck down and my shoulders up, he flexed his arms lifting me slightly and I realized too late-I felt him push in, his fingers had just been the warm up.  He speared my ass, sliding in with barely any resistance after the beating he put on my hole in the backbreaker.  He started thrusting into me, getting harder, faster, my limp barely conscious body flailing helplessly.  He pounded in to the hilt and held there, my back pressed tight to his chest, whimpering in hopeful need.  then he pulled back and SLAMMED into me again.  I was done, my load came blasting out in a rocket stream straight up.  It smacked across my face and chest, so much so that I had to close my eyes to wipe it away.  My chest was smeared in the second load he'd gotten out of me tonight and I thought it would finally be over.  No such luck.

He growled as my load shot up and came back down over my shoulder.  Some landed on his arm and he yanked my head back by my hair to look at him.  His voice was dangerous and low "Clean your fucking mess!" and held up his mountainous bicep, my dribble of cum like snow on the mountaintop.  I leaned forward licking his bicep, moving around more I get my tongue into every nook and cranny of his steel arm muscle. "I think that's what you really wanted this whole time wasn't it?"  I can only moan plaintively because my mouth is full of rock hard pecs. Suddenly, he grabs my hair, jerks me around and mashes my face into the tile floor.  My head pinned down, with him keeping my ass propped up I can't even offer much resistance; any chance is obliterated when his tongue traced my rim.

He straddles my upturned ass, grinding his fat cock between my ass cheeks until I feel that unmistakeable warm splat against my back, shoulders and the rest smacking into my hair.  I groaned as he lifted me to my feet in a nelson again, my legs shaky at best after everything plus two mind blowing orgasms.  He released the full nelson only to rub that mighty bicep over my lips, then locking in a tightly sealed sleeper hold.  He walked me back into the main locker rooms, still fighting unconsciousness in his arms.

Without saying a word he steps into the middle of the locker room, dragging more than walking with me now, and stepped up on one of the benches.  Now supporting me in a hanging sleeper, my feet kicking wildly as he choked me out, he surveys the room as they watch him choke me out putting barely an ounce of effort in the task.  My struggles faded quickly, lessening to the odd weak slap at his arms, my sputtering and choking quiet into pitiful squeaks until finally, blackness takes me over.  He leaves my cum smeared body sprawled on the locker room bench, having made his message very clear.  Behind my fluttering eyelids all I saw were his arms flexing, rippling, bulging.  His voice, so seductive in my ear, "This is your pleasure" sent tremors through my whole body, locked in a spiral of my own thoughts, or maybe his thoughts.  Either way, he was the underlying thought in the back of my head at all times.

To this day I get agonizingly hard watching him flex his arms.  Owned.                  

J Squared: Twin Terrors

I helped Jake sit down and lie back on my bed.  We were in the process of moving Jake into my place since I had the bigger apartment.  We had asked for a few days off to get the rest of his things situated, Management had agreed to it without any argument which should have set off a warning flag in my head, but it seemed that a wrestling match wasn't the only time that we were clueless to an obvious attack.  We learned our last match before our time off was switched, instead of a singles match with Jake facing some kid fresh out of high school , we would be going up against the Terror Twins.

The Terror Twins were two brothers who were accompanied by their leather daddy trainer.  They had actually been banned from several feds after severely injuring wrestlers all over the country as well as gaining a reputation for overtly sexual conduct both in the ring and in the locker room.  When Management decided to open their Wrestlerotica Studios with our match against Adam Bomb they had begun searching for the most sadistic horny heels around who were more than eager to dick slap a few jobbers around.  We hadn't met the twins yet but Management had put them against another brother tag team.  They were Brandon and Robert Strukk, together they were StarStrukk.  The two were 6' tall, perpetually tan with golden wheat colored hair and eyes like sapphires.  To look at them you would assume they were twins as well but Brandon was two years older.  We had seen StarStrukk after facing the Twins, the two blond models were out cold, practically white washed in cum and Brandon was in a fit of muscle spasms.

When Kurt called us in his office for our new gear and told us we were facing the twins, Jake practically spit on Kurt's desk.  "Come on, seriously? they just fucked up Brandon and Rob not even a week ago, what happened to the schedule?"  Kurt snorted, "Management says fuck the schedule, you wanna write up a grievance?" Kurt raised an eyebrow dripping in sarcasm. I sighed, "Fuck off Kurt just give us our fucking trunks, what the hell are we wearing for this one?"  It was rare we got to wear our default ring gear anymore, Wrestlerotica was getting match requests like crazy.

We snatched our gear from Kurt's hand, it was two pair of glossy "shorts" that would have made Daisy

Duke blush. They unzipped on the sides and were in our traditional colors, Jake's red and mine purple.  When we slid the trunks on to break in the rubbery trunks it ended the debate we'd been having, I definitely had the bigger ass.  Jake's trunks let a considerable amount of cheek show, bubbling from the constricted leg holes; but mine was really just a conservative thong, scrunched up above my ass in a shiny bundle of purple skintight wedgie.  Duke came by the next night as we warmed up getting ready to approach the ring.  He snuck up behind us and groped both our asses, making us both moan out in shock...and some pleasure, Duke's constant ribbing seemed to hone his skill at finding my hole or pressing my taint just right even in quick passing.  "Heh heh Twins are gonna fuck you bitches crosseyed hahaha."  "You're a fuckin dick Masters!" I yelled out as he walked off laughing.  I wasn't sure what Duke even did anymore, I couldn't remember the last time he'd been in the ring and it seemed he just hung around the lockers to talk shit and generally make me miserable.

I heard from the front "...Gorgeous Gomez and Hot Shot Harris!"  We jogged out to the ramp and immediately became our ring personas; Jake jumping and flipping all over the place while I preened for the crowd and smoothing oil over my body, I even posed for a selfie with a group of twinks ringside.  Jake shocked me when we got to the ring apron, usually we climbed up, vaulted over on either side and posed standing on the turnbuckles.  This time as I climbed up he grabbed the front of my trunks and pulled me into a deep kiss, gripping a tight fistful of my hair as the crowd practically roared.  Our relationship was known in the locker room, wasn't much of a secret after Jack Twister had caught Jake sucking my neck one night in the showers. But we had never made anything apparent about our relationship to the fans, not counting the times we were forced to kiss or suck each other's cocks  by a sadistic heel.

Jake let go of my hair and winked at me before flipping back over the ropes.  I blinked for a second still shocked and willed my growing erection to calm down before stepping over the ropes. Jake walked up to me with an exaggerated swagger thrusting his hips at me.  Finally wrapped an arm around my waist, pressing his fingers deep in my barely covered ass crack kissing me hard enough to make me moan in his mouth. He swatted my ass as we broke the kiss and the Twins heavy metal entrance music started.

The Twins were both nicely built and defined with lightly furry chests, and thick wavy reddish brown hair.  Named  Flog and Flail the only difference in their appearance was different facial hair.  Flog had a goatee and Flail had long sideburns shaved to a point.  Their "trainer" was basically a taller version of the Terror Twins with a thick full beard.  All three were in leather chest holsters, The twins in black leather chaps and thongs, Flog's was traditional and Flail's a studded g-string.  They approached the ring, the Twins scowling at the two brightly colored jobbers in the ring, while their trainer, Bruce, smiled at us, and I found that more disturbing than the matching scowls.

Bruce twisted a nipple on each twin, making their eyes roll back showing white, Flail actually stumbled back before Bruce released them and swatted their asses motioning to get in the ring.  The Twins stepped up on the apron and Flail got in first.  We turned around back to our corner and instantly the bell rang and I felt a boot SLAM into my back.  Bruce pulled Jake out of the ring and gave him a hard backhand across the jaw that dropped Jake on his ass.  Jake was slowly getting up as Flail grabbed my hair from behind and walked me back to the center of the ring.  Flail stuffed my face in his armpit and showed off his namesake swinging his arm fully extended smacking his softball sized fist into my abs over and over and over.  Caving in my ab wall, raising bruises as I jerked and twitched, my back arched over Flail's knee.

It was getting hard to breathe as Flail just went to town on my gut with my face smothering in his pit.  Flail finally shoved me off his leg to collapse in a heap on the mat sobbing for air.  Flail just rolled his eyes and in his thick Australian accent scoffs "Bored" and yanking my already wedgied leather trunks hard he tossed me like so much garbage at my corner curled up at Jake's feet.  Flail waved his arms "Come on then Red, your turn." Jake looked down at me nursing my welted abs and growled "Son of a bitch!"  and hopped over the ropes charging Flail wildly.  Flail easily ducked his telegraphed tackle, quickly sidestepping and shoving Jake into the opposite turnbuckles.  In the enemy corner Flog wasted no time hooking Jake's neck over the bottom rope and mashing his face into the ring apron.  Jake thrashed helplessly until Flail pulled him off the rope by the hair standing Jake up on shaky feet.  I was sure Flail was trying to kill Jake when he grabbed the back of his head and ran them to the ropes hopping over the top rope, SMASHING Jake's neck over the top rope, sending him flying back into the ring thrashing on the mat gasping for ragged breaths.

By the time Jake could think clearly enough to crawl to our corner Flail had tagged Flog in and Flog dragged Jake back to the center of the ring.  Wedging Jake's trunks up into a thong Flog yanked him to his feet, snapping on a lightning quick full nelson that had Jake's feet barely grazing the mat.  As Flog cranked Jake's neck in the nelson pain warped his face as he grunted for air. Flog started high stepping behind Jake smashing his knees into Jake's ass and back as he pranced him around the ring.   Jake's body swung violently with every knee into his ass and I could see his face darkening as his fight for breath became more hopeless.

When his flailing arms slowed and started to droop Flog walked him over to our corner and in one smooth motion dropped Jake's groggy carcass and slapped me across the face.  Flog's hand was huge and covered the entire left side of my face, the bitchslap nearly knocked me senseless, dropping me to a knee only staying on the apron because of my grip on the top rope. I moved to reach between the ropes but Flog yanked Jake out of reach tossing him bodily to the center of the ring.   He looked back at me grinning "tough luck, no tag mate."  He winked at me before turning around and sending a savage kick to Jake's stomach,  Jake curled up in the fetal position at Flog's feet, his face pressed into the canvas.  I started pacing on the apron, pissed and wanting payback for that slap and the cheap shot Flog took at Jake.

I winced and started slapping the top turnbuckle in our corner shouting Jake's name for him to get up as Flog started stomping his head and kicking him in the back.  When it looked like Flog was going to just stomp Jake until he was unconscious, Jake pulled a sudden burst of energy out of nowhere and turned grabbing Flog's boot.  He shoved up and back, sending Flog falling back into Flail, knocking him off the edge of the ring.  I jumped up standing on the bottom rope leaning in for the tag "Yes! Jake! Tag! Tag me!"

The shitty part about this whole erotic wrestling fed was that considering the intended nature of these matches and the fact that they were expected to feature all manner of molestation and normally illegal tactics, was that there really wasn't a place for a referee to manage the action in any sense.  I was so focused on Jake and reaching in for the tag as he scrambled to reach me, that I didn't see that Bruce had made his way around to our side of the ring and had been standing behind me leaning against the crowd barrier for some time.  Just as Jake's hand was coming down for the tag, my trunks were yanked from behind and I fell from the ring apron, falling hard on the floor, my head missing the foam mats surrounding the ring, hitting the cement floor with a dull thud.

I lifted my head dazed just in time to see Flail palm Jake's face, hooking his fingers in his nostrils and pulling him away from our corner.  Before I could react further, my abs exploded in pain like I had never felt before.  I have been suplexed onto folding chairs, irish whipped into unpadded kneecaps, and folded over metal guard rails, these were nothing compared to the paralyzing pain from Bruce's diving punch to my stomach.  I tried to breathe, but expanding my abs sent shredding agony through my whole torso and I could only take short shallow gulps of air and fight not to burst into tears with every breath.  If there was such a thing as getting punched in your soul, this would be it.  I was totally incapacitated and seeing the grin on Bruce's face as he looked down at me, I knew that this match wasn't going to be about winning or losing, merely surviving this would be a victory.

Bruce looked back at the ring, then kneeled down next to me.  He SLAMMED his hand to my abs in a deep claw.  All concern with image was gone, I screamed like a tortured animal as his thick fingers dug in, gripping the wall of muscle in his palm and squeezing until I was sure he wouldn't stop until he punctured an organ.  He squeezed my busted abs harder and harder until my screams died off, my whole body caught in tremors of shock, in too much agony and too short of breath to scream anymore as he doubled his effort to pull the muscle out through my skin.  Bruce leaned in, his voice raspy, "You're a shitty team mate aren't you?  Pretty sure you're boy  could use some help in there eh?" I could only give a choked gurgle in response as I pitifully pulled at Bruce's forearm, which was thick enough to take both of my hands to completely circle it.  Bruce laughed and pulled me up by my hair, finally releasing his grip on my abs, leaving 5 distinct dark spots where his fingers had torn into me; I knew they would be horrible bruises the next day.

Bruce turned me toward the ring and shoved me, sneding me running toward the apron, too fast to stop I braced myself for the burst of pain that was coming when I hit the apron.  Just before I made contact, I felt my trunks yanked again, wedging even higher up my ass they acted like a slinsgshot that pulled me back and WHAM, my lower back hit Bruce's waiting fist.  I naturally arched back, which sent more bolts of white hot pain through my gut.  I fell to my knees once Bruce released my trunks with a stinging snap on my ass, in a total haze of pain.  Bruce laughed richly as he started slapping the back of my head "I was just fooling, but really now, pretty sure Red Hot could use a hand.  He pulled me to my feet by my trunks, and shoved me back to the ring, this time letting me hit the apron at full speed.

I felt the tears starting as I dragged myself up on the apron, every breath was torture and I didn't even have the presence of mind to fix the obscene wedgied trunks which were now all but invisible between my ass cheeks.  Jake wasn't doing any better than I was.  I had no idea what had gone on while Bruce destroyed my abs at ringside, but Jake's trunks were pulled down in back baring his meaty ass, and he showed an obvious hardon stretching his tiny trunks, which didn't match the glazed expression on his face.  I stood in our corner and watched helplessly as the Terror Twins went to town.  After tagging each other in back and forth taking turns punching, slapping, clawing and fondling Jake in their corner, they both entered the ring for a blatant double team, disregarding the honor system of a tag match and going for a blatant double team.  Flog pulled Jake out of the corner by his tented bulge, then stepped behind him and started to cup and massage Jake's full pecs which I noticed were practically neon red with two diamond point nipples.  Flog then dug a vicious claw into Jake's pec meat, ripping pleading moans out of my lover and tag partner as Flog growled, flexing his boulder sized arms lifting Jake's feet off the mat by the pec claw.

As Flog held Jake suspended in the pec claw, Flail dropped to his knees and started punching Jake's swollen bulge like a speedbag, sending the pendulous basket swinging with each sharp quick punch.  Jake was openly crying now, struggling to lift his legs to protect his manhood, only to get the fingers twisting even deeper under his pec shelf until his legs dropped and the pouch punches continued.  I had enough, if they could both be in the ring, then so could we.  I stepped through the ropes and charged at Flail, the two preoccupied with torturing Jake and didn't see me coming until I swung both fists out slamming both sides of Flail's head.  Flail fell to the side and I reached down, and yanked Flail's g string scrubbing the thin strap between his cheeks.  I started punching Flail between his shoulder blades and I saw Jake kicking back at Flog's legs struggling to escape the suspended pec claw.  our rally was short lived though, Flog flexed one more time lifting Jake even higher and then dropped to one knee, SLAMMING Jake's uncovered ass over his knee sending a shockwave right up Jake's spine.  Flail hunched down as I landed a punch to the back of his neck, and pushed himself back and up, effectively smashing his body weight into my destroyed ab wall which sent me backpedaling doubled over.

Flail stood and turned to face me, and it was even more humiliating that he looked genuinely confused that we had even attempted to fight back.  "What the fuck are you doing?" he asked and actually stood there as if waiting for an answer.  Jake was thrashing in Flog's grip in their tag corner; Flog had a grip on the back of Jake's trunks, now wedgied nearly as bad as mine, and was running Jake's face back and forth over the top rope.  Flail still stood there, as if waiting for a naughty child to explain himself.  My lip curled in rage and I charged Flail, raising my arm out to the side for a clothesline.  Flail rolled his eyes and sidestepped, catching my outstretched arm in one fluid movement .  His right hand caught me at the elbow, and his left palm hit the back of my shoulder joint, painfully locking my arm and stopping me in my tracks.

Flail pushed his hand harder into my shoulder making me stand on tiptoe before sinking to my knees as Flail kept his hand pressed into my shoulder threatening to pop it out of socket with a growl and increasing pressure with every attempt to pull out of his grip.  Flail bore down o my shoulder until I knew he was seconds away from popping it out of socket, Jake was folded over the ring post, his arms held by Bruce outside of the ring as Flog yanked his trunks even farther up his upturned ass and spanking the hell out of him.  Every loud echoing slap against his cheeks echoed in the arena and the crowd started the Ric Flair "WOOO" with every strike on Jake's ass and thighs that were already showing welts.  Jake's screams rose in pitch as Flog used one hand to form a claw on Jake's balls and taint, the other continued slapping his thighs and ass, each slap sending ripples through his muscular legs.

I looked back up at Flail who just pushed harder at my shoulder, and I knew the breaking point had come, "I submit! I submit!"  I screamed out, more than ready to take Jake home and lick our wounds.  Flail backhanded me hard, "Shut the fuck up, you're not even the legal man, he winked and nodded his head toward Flog and Jake, who was now hanging limp over the ring post, the only movement from the savage slaps against his thighs.  Flail released my arm letting it fall limp to my side, "C'mon Flog I'm bored already, and listening to these blubbering bitches is giving me a headache."  Flail stood in front of me, and I noticed his g string pouch was now a full tent stretched to the max and when he said headache, he flexed his hard cock in my face, the tip of his boner bouncing on my nose.

I heard a loud moan come from Jake, Flog had pulled Jake's trunks back down and now had his thumb planted in Jake's asshole rolling it in circles.  "So plug him up then Flail, act like you've dealt with a mouthy bitch before."  Flog twitched his thumb getting another sobbing moan out of Jake.  Flail slapped me hard across the face again before pulling his throbbing member out of the g string.  Before I could even protest Flail's cock was stuffed down my throat.  With a firm grip on my hair Flail started fucking my face at a furious speed, his pelvis smacking me hard in the face with every thrust.  I started to choke nearly gagging everytime his cock jabbed my throat which seemed to only turn Flail on even more.  His cock started to twitch and my eyes watered as Flail's cock smacked at the walls of my throat.  I didn't have any choice but to swallow as Flail threw his head back and blasted his load down my throat.  I had barely taken a breath after Flail drew his cock out of my mouth, drops of his load clinging to my lips before Flail smashed a boot to my chest knocking me back hard.  My head slammed the mat and I was all but out cold, my throat sore and burning with every cough that rattled my whole body.

I turned my head and saw Jake getting dragged from the corner by his hair.  He was dishrag limp, his eyes glazed over and unfocused.  Despite the pain he was obviously feeling, Jake's cock had grown rock hard and stuck out over his wrenched trunks, drooling precum streaking the mat as Flog dragged him to the center of the ring.  Flog finally dropped Jake's head with a dull thump and soccer kicked him in the ribs flipping Jake's limp carcass onto his back.  Jake's cock throbbed and strained against the last bit of his trunks that still held his cock down.

"I think this one likes getting his ass kicked, just look at that."  Flog laughed as he gas pedaled Jake's balls.  Jake could only twitch and groan squirming under Flog's boot.  "You like getting your ass kicked don't you bitch?"Jake moaned shaking his head back and forth.  "No?  That's the wrong answer bitch boy!" Flog STOMPED Jake's cock getting a strangled scream out of Jake.  Flog walked around to Jake's head, plopping his thonged ass down flush over Jake's face, wiggling hi ass as Jake weakly flailed under him.  I clenched my teeth and started to pull myself up with the ropes, but Flail caught me, pulling my arm up by the wrist and started shooting rapid punches into my chest and abs, I was quickly out of breath and every punch was like an explosion in my torso.  After what felt like 100 solid punches to my core I was raggedly gasping, unable to even beg him to stop.  Flail dropped my arm letting me melt to the mat arms crossed over my abs.  I couldn't even crawl toward Jake as Flog continued to smother him in his ass.

Flog put a hand to his chin as if he was thinking very hard, something I doubt he did often.  "I can't remember Flail, is it a 10 count pin?"  Flail kicked me in the head making my vision blurry as he answered back laughing, "I thought it was 30?"  Flog laughed deep and loud at that and looked back at the top of Jake's head, wiggling his ass again over Jake's face.  "What do you think Bitch boy?  10 or 30?"  Flog flexed his ass clamping it on Jake's face , Jake gave one last time his chest flaring in a desperate pull for air before he collapsed back to the mat, his arms flopped lifeless to the mat, finally his twitching cock was the only movement.  "Pussy, he's already out cold"  Flog clicked his tongue and slapped Jake's aching cock, "and here I was gonna let you cum too."

Flog and Flail left us in the ring, Jake out cold  spreadeagle on the mat his cock finally free of his trunks leaking precum in a steady sticky stream his abs spasming.  I crawled over to Jake making a sad attempt to wake him up.  Jake could barely open his eyes and moan before they rolled back in his head.  I finally dragged Jake to the ring apron and he came around enough to hook an arm over my shoulders, even if staying on his feet was a different story.  In lieu of going to the lockers and facing Duke, I half carried half dragged Jake straight to my car, somehow managing to tuck him back in his trunks.

I helped Jake sit down and lie back on the bed.  He moaned as I straddled his legs, our bulges brushing together.  I leaned forward and lightly kissed Jake's lips and whispered "Turn over."  Jake gave weak grin before wincing as he turned over.  I rubbed my hands over Jake's back, my cock growing as Jake moaned under my massage.  I kissed the back of his neck, slowly making my way down his spine.  My hands reached Jake's ass and I hooked my fingers in his trunks pulling them down.  Jake gave a brief pained cry as he raised his hips.  I instantly froze not wanting to aggravate any injuries.  Jake sighed as he lowered his hips back down, "don't stop."

I finished pulling Jake's trunks down, kissing the top of his ass, tracing Jake's bright thong tanline with my tongue down between his cheeks.  Jake raised his hips again and gave a breathy moan as I covered his hole in kisses, letting the tip of my tongue brush his ring.  Jake humped into the mattress his moans getting louder as I pushed my tongue even harder against his entrance, driving him to the edge and finally letting him release the buildup from Flog's erotic torture.  Jake sobbed as he arched up again pushing back as I tonguefucked him, my fingers massaging slow circles on his taint and gently rolling his churning balls.  Jake came with a sobbing whimper as he shot his load  grinding against the  bed.  I kissed my way back up Jake's back as I crawled back up on the bed beside him.  Jake curled up on reflex as the small spoon, pulling my arm over his chest.  Jake moaned low in his throat as I kissed his ear before lying on my side behind him.  Jake pushed himself back settling in flush against my chest.  My hard cock nestled between his ass cheeks, Jake flexed his ass around my cock making my breath catch in my throat.  Jake reached his hand back rubbing my leg as he milked my cock with his powerful glutes.  I couldn't even move, clutching Jake's pec as he worked my cock in his ass crack.  I sucked Jake's earlobe as I came blasting a hot rope up his back.  No sooner did I come down from the high of orgasm than we both felt our eyes getting heavy.  I tightened my arm around Jake's chest as we fell asleep, happy that we had time to recover from our latest match.                          

J Squared: Vanquished Vets

Gorgeous Gomez

My ring name is Johnny "Gorgeous" Gomez, I'm in a tag team with my best friend since High School Jake "Hot Shot" Harris.  We were called J Squared, and the joke in the locker rooms was that the J stood for jobber.  It was true I had to admit, 2 years without a single win and each loss was more humiliating than the last.  Management had put us in a match for the Women's Tag Belt as a joke to add insult to injury against Dirty Donna and Lady Rage; the match had pretty much just consisted of Jake and I taking low blows until we passed out cold.  Donna had punctuated the three count with spanking me with a dildo, then slapping Jake across the face with it for the cherry on top.

The humiliation of being put in the match in the first place, the total one sided fight with the ref paying no mind to all of Donna and Rage's rule breaking and Management using our air tight contract to use as comic relief had us both pretty depressed.  We stumbled back to the lockers holding our balls in pain.  As we got more losses our chosen gear became skimpier by the day, and the smaller our trunks got, the more fans seemed eager to see us get our asses kicked.  I couldn't even bother with fixing my trunks that had slid well past the top of my ass showing the bright green thong I had worn under them, and the crowd was relentlessly slapping Jake's bubble ass that was in full view thanks to the obscene wedgie Lady Rage had given him.

Hot Shot Harris

I didn't see Duke Masters, one of our more avid tormentors waiting by the door as we came into the locker room.  Just as the door shut behind me Duke grabbed my thong and snapped it painfully on my ass.  Just as I turned around he shoved us both back toward the benches.  Jake tripped over falling back on the hard tile floor, I landed on my ass.  Duke took a quick step grabbing my long hair and stuffing my face in the pouch of his dark blue trunks.  His ample basket smothered my mouth and nose as he rubbed my face back and forth in his bulge.  "Y'know usually The Danger Dames give me a little BJ after a match, but I guess two bitch jobbers like you will do in a pinch."  Duke laughed and I could feel his cock growing in his tight trunks as I tried to push my head back from his crotch.  Duke let go of my hair long enough to spike a knuckle to the top of my skull that made me see stars.  Dazed I was no trouble as Duke scrubbed his bulge with my face.

By now Jake had gotten up and fixed half of his wedgie, he pushed Duke's chest "Get the fuck off of him Duke!"  Duke's face twisted in a sneer, "Getting jealous I'm borrowing your bitch boyfriend?"  Duke palmed Jake's face like a basketball and effortlessly slammed him down gut first over the bench.  Jake gasped as his abs bashed into the unforgiving wood.  Duke reached down with his free hand and yanked Jake's wrenched trunks down leaving him bare assed in a metallic red thong and smirked, "Guess I have to teach you both some manners."  He started swatting Jake's ass with his ham sized hands, when Jake kept squirming, he pulled my face away from his crotch, and put me down for the count with one vicious punch to the jaw.  He grabbed Jake wedging his thong up his ass Jake couldn't get far with his trunks around his knees.  Duke sat down on the bench, putting Jake over his knee and went to town swatting his thonged ass until both cheeks were bright red.  Finally the Promoter decided to break things up making his presence known.  Duke shoved Jake to the floor, kicking us both as he went back into the showers.

When I woke up Jake told me the news, we had finally been given a break.  Management had decided we had suffered enough and gave us a handicapped match against a totally green rookie.  He only had three matches under his belt and hadn't really wowed Management.  If there was any such thing as a sure win this had to be it.  The next week dragged by as I counted the days down until Saturday, Jake and I training intensely every day.  Finally  the day came, Jake and I tore down the Interstate to the arena on our motorcycles, excited to finally get our first win in our wrestling career.  It might be a cheap win, but considering the amount of times we had been cheated in the ring I put it out of my mind, everybody gets their turn I guess.

We got to the ring and I opened my locker only to see my gear was gone.  Where usually there was white bikini trunks hung the tiniest purple string thong.  A triangle barely three fingers wide made the back, and the front was a sheer pouch that looked like it would barely hold one of my balls.  I stepped back from my locker, seeing my regular purple and white laced boots at the bottom.  I left my boots in the locker and walked toward the Equipment Office.  I heard Jake behind me as I passed his locker, "Are they fucking serious?"  I looked back and saw his gear was even smaller than mine, it was simply a red mesh pouch attached to an elastic ring.  I shook my head, "I don't know man, I'm about to find out what the fuck is going on."  Jake followed me to the office, The Equipment Manager looked up as we entered, "Come on Kurt what is the meaning of this?"  I said as we held up our shoestring gear.

Kurt just looked at us as if waiting on us to say what the problem was.  "Yeah that's your gear this match, Boss is trying out a new, uh, adult venue with some of our matches, what of it?"  "What the fuck do you mean what of it? What is this shit?"  Jake looked like he could chew glass, he had gotten more and more annoyed as our provided gear kept getting smaller and tighter, I was sure they had finally gone too far with the g string and cock pouch.  "Boss calls the shots, Boss picks the gear. Oh and, don't worry about those, they stretch to fit"  Kurt winked then looked back down at his newspaper.  Jake stormed out and shoved the office door so hard it banged against the wall, knocking Kurt's clock off the wall.  I just looked at my purple string and shuffled back out, this was already looking like more of Management's games.

We finally pulled on our scanty gear, Kurt was right about it stretching to fit, the microscopic pouch of my string easily accommodated the heft of my cock and balls in a snug bundle.  Jake still looked livid as we approached the ramp, Duke laughed hysterically as he made his way to the lockers looking at our skimpy gear and swatting Jake's bare ass.  "Smiles on"  Jake muttered as we stepped out.  I preened with my handheld mirror, playing up Gorgeous Gomez to the max, Jake ran down flexing and getting hype with the crowd.  I noticed that the crowd was almost 100% men and they were a lot more free with their hands groping and fondling us as we walked past them.

For all his angry complaining before, Jake seemed to genuinely love the attention the fans were giving him, shaking his bare ass and thrusting his red pouch in people's faces.  He had the biggest smile I think I had ever seen.  When we came back together in the middle of the ramp Jake whispered "Ok I'll admit, this is more fun than I thought it would be."  He laughed and gave my pouch a playful pat before we jumped up on the ring apron.  I couldn't hold back a grin as I pretended to fix my hair just so in my hand mirror, hamming up the Gorgeous Gomez character to the max.

I didn't see our opponent in the ring, which was odd since usually the new rookie was the first out to the ring without any fanfare or entrance ceremony.  But I didn't think of it as we entered the ring.  Jake climbed up on the turnbuckles and flexed his impressive physique to a big pop from the crowd.  I decided to turn around, giving a full view of my ass as I ran my hands over my body, turning back to face them as I groped my barely contained bulge.  Suddenly I saw a flash to my side and as I looked to see, a crushing pain exploded in my crotch.  A hand was crushing my pouch in an iron fist, another had a hold of Jake, the arm pulled back and Jake fell of the turnbuckles, his head banged off the corner post with a metallic ring and he melted into a puddle in the corner, out cold before the match even started.

I was still in the clutch of our mysterious opponent that was supposed to have been a cakewalk newbie just excited to have time in the ring, looked like Management had tricked us again.  My mouth was open in a silent scream as the hand pulled back making me hobble backward doubled over from the grip on my balls.  Finally he let go, and I fell to my knees holding my crotch.  The hands returned grabbing me by the hair, pulling me up to my feet from behind.  my balls still in pain I couldn't even fight back as he bent me backwards and stuffed my head under his arm.  I realized our opponent that had taken Jake out and was kicking my ass was practically a kid, no more than 130 pounds and a good deal shorter than my 6'2".  Before I could even react to the fact that a twink was kicking my ass, my face was mashed in his armpit and the back of my head SLAMMED into the mat.  He stepped over me and pulled me back up by my hair facing him this time, his hair was blond and his eyes pale blue, he grinned evilly just as he got me to shaky feet and BAM smashes my face into the mat.

Adam Bomb

I looked up in a haze as he turned to the crowd flexing his wiry frame, the crowd went nuts seeing this pint size brawler totally dominating two muscle boys with an unrivaled jobber reputation.  He wore brief white trunks with a red radioactive symbol across his ass, he shouted in a surprisingly deep voice "Adam BOOOMB"  to another cheer from the crowd.  I groaned as I started to get up, alerting Adam to my movement.  He turned around and Stomped my head flattening me back to the mat, this was shaping up to be even more embarrassing than our usual matches.  Adam grabbed my thong yanking it high up my ass and with a grip on my hair walked me to the corner opposite Jake's crumpled form.  Jake was slumped on the mat, his head hanging over the bottom rope, his body up on his knees propped up by his shoulder pressed against the corner post.  His legs were spread wide, giving a full view of his winking hole.  In my head trauma daze I was staring at Jake's hole as it opened and closed with his shallow breath, and his red pouch dangling between his muscular thighs I didn't have much time to stare as Adam quickly boxed my ears, and then began bashing the back of my head over the corner post BAMBAMBAM I could hear the crowd counting each sick thud of my head against the ringpost.  I slowly lost all sense my eyes glazing over and held up only by Adam's grip on my ears.

I was all but unconscious  and wobbling as Adam slapped my face a few times, satisfied with my barely lucid state, he dragged me basically limp along the mat until we reached Jake, he stuffed my face into Jake's ass, pressing my mouth against his hole rubbing my face in his upturned muscular ass.  I was humiliated and to my terror, getting turned on.  I had never let on just how much I wanted Jake to anyone, I hadn't even come out to Jake.  It was pretty apparent he wasn't homophobic in the least, but I couldn't let on that I felt shivers everytime we consoled each other after another crushing loss in the ring.  Now here I was, giving a forced rim job to Jake as he lay knocked out, and my cock kept growing in my tiny pouch even as I tried to think about anything besides the fact that a skinny kid was cramming my face in my best friend and tag partner's ass for a full horny audience.

One grace is that I was flat on the mat hiding the raging hardon I had as Adam taunted me in my ear, telling me to lick and kiss Jake's ass , then started pulling my head back and forth and calling it The Gorgeous Gomez Tonguefuck finisher. As hot as it was smothering in Jake's ass the keyword was smothering.  Bashes to the head and lack of air was taking its toll fast.  My struggles were getting weaker until my eyes were rolling, totally unfocused.  Adam stuffed my head deep between Jake's cheeks one more time, I heard Jake moan, but he was barely coming around, and still a non factor in this "match".  Adam pulled Jake's legs straight, my face still in his crack groaning.  I could feel Adam moving around, pulling at my feet and doing something to Jake, but moving my head just sent out new waves of dizzying pain.  I put a hand up to rub my aching head, and my arm was quickly snatched away, and Adam STOMPED my fingers until I screamed, muffled in Jake's ample ass.

Adam crossed Jake's legs behind my head, and arched his legs up like a boston crab, causing Jake's ass to flex clamping over my face, sealing off what little air I was getting.  I gulped, feeling my chest surging as I struggled for breath, Jake's ass twitching with every exhale puffing against his sphincter.  I saw later from the countless video uploads on the net that Adam had untied mine and Jake's bootlaces.  When he lifted up Jake's legs he tied them to the middle rope, lashing them securely with his own laces, locking me in a reverse headscissor/ass smother at the same time.  He lifted my legs up too, spreading them in a wide perfect split, my flexibility just making it easier to put me in this embarrassing position. Adam lifted me just enough that my crotch lifted off the mat, showing my throbbing boner in all it's glory, a sticky string of precum stretching to the canvas below me.  "I think he likes it boys!" Adam yelled out.  He tied my left foot to the ring post, the laces from my right boot knotted to the middle rope so that I hung suspended, my face mashed in Jake's ass and my legs spread wide exposed to Adam and the crowd.

I finally passed out cold smothered in Jake's ass as he came to, shocked at the predicament we were in, realizing that he had been out while I got my ass kicked.  behind us, Adam was going way beyond the limits of any other match in our fed. He pulled the tail strap of my thong aside, pushing his first two fingers deep inside my ass, my cock throbbed in response, milking another string of precum to drool out of my aching cock.  My whole body shuddered on instinct as he bashed my prostate with his long thin fingers, pressing my nub over and over, milking my unconscious body for a jobber load.  Jake was also showing impressive wood reacting to my unintended teasing of warm breath against his ass, straining his red pouch to the limit.  "What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?"  Jake kept yelling as Adam just continued finger drilling my ass, my limp body flopping between his piston pumping arm and Jake struggling in the ropes, jerking my head around as his ass flexed and moved. Realizing it was useless, Jake tried to submit the match but Adam just laughed, "You can't submit, I'm not even touching you, and besides, you've got the ropes."  Jake was furious realizing that there was no way he could technically end the match as Adam kept abusing my asshole and my face was trapped in Jake's ass with my head planted firmly in his muscled globe ass, I couldn't have submitted even if I wanted to.

Jake slapped the mat in frustration, "fuck man we submit! We Submit! Stop!"  Adam had added a third finger and was fucking my ass so hard Jake was feeling every thrust sending my head bumping against his tailbone.  The crowd was half laughing at us the humiliated jobbers and half turned on seeing this erotic domination, with the skinny underdog hardly breaking a sweat, which was mainly just from dragging my carcass around the ring.  Finally Jake and Adam felt my body shudder, and my cock blew my loser load leaking right through my mesh thong onto the mat.

Adam smiled big seeing my body hump in the air pumping out my load.  Deciding he had done enough, and claiming he was bored with the warm up session he untied my legs, pulling my face out of Jake's scissor.  He dragged me to ring center, my thong still pulled to one side, and flipped me over onto my back.  My cock was still tenting my thong and spitting more of my load through the thin mesh (this led to me being called Old Faithful for months).  Adam Bomb was hard by this point his cock pointing straight out like a missile caught in his white speedo.  He pushed his trunks down enough to let his throbbing monster free, a thick 8 inches that looked way too big to be on such a small body.  Adam flipped my legs over my head folding me up, turned his back to me straddling my upturned thighs, and pointing his thick cock straight down, slowly sat on my thighs, spearing my worked hole to the hilt.  My thighs quivered as he settled in, perched on me like so much raunchy furniture and held up his fingers, supported by the crowd as they yelled out ONE!  TWO! THREEEE! Signaling the official end of this two on one squash job.  Jake was frantically squirming trying to free himself and look back at what was happening, while Adam pumped his cock inside my upended ass a few more times before finally standing up, and making his way over to Jake who had barely managed to untie one foot.  He stood over Jake, stepping on his freed leg as he jerked himself off the rest of the way, blasting his victory cumshot up Jake's back and exiting the ring to hi fives from the crowd as he left the arena.

Jake was on his own getting himself free as everybody left with plenty of ribbing just making the whole situation worse.  Totally destroyed by a welterweight, without so much as throwing a single punch and now forced to care for ourselves as everybody watched.  I was still out like a light, my feet up by my head, body in after shocks.  He finally released himself and came over to me, carrying me back to the locker room that was thankfully empty by the time we got back there.  This was our worst loss to date, and to top it off I'd gotten fucked, milked and Jake cummed on, matches got risque at times, but had always been "Kid Safe" in the past.  This was well above and beyond that, and knowing Management there would be many more of these X rated matches for us in the future.

I finally came to when Jake turned on the shower in the locker room.  He was holding me up in front of him, his arm wrapped under my chest.  I looked back at him and I couldn't read his face for probably the first time since we'd become friends.  We were both silent for a long time, it wasn't anything new to shower together after matches (limited stalls at the arena), but this was different, this match had been worse than anything before.  I took a breath to say something but he spoke first, "I'm sorry...I really fucked this one up and you paid for it." He turned his head away and I felt his arm loosen.  I turned, still shaky on my feet but Jake steadied me, his eyes suddenly wide.  I don't know what I was thinking, or even if I was thinking but I just kissed Jake.  Right on the lips for a second before I realized what I had done and backed up, Jake stood there silent for a second, before pulling me back to him and kissing me back.  I let out a sigh as our mouths met. I felt Jake's still raging cock pressed against my hip, and looked down at it still straining against his tiny red pouch.  I quickly changed positions, holding his back to my chest letting the hot water wash over us as I reached down, pulling off the wet pouch.  Jake moaned out as I let the warm water pool in my hand cradling his thick cock and began stroking.  He clutched my arm gasping and moaning as I brought him to his full aching length, throbbing in my hand.  He turned his head back kissing me as he came, shooting high arcs splashing against the tile walls.

Jake turned kissing me, pinning me to the shower wall, planting both wrists above my head, holding them in one hand, he ripped my flimsy thong off, my cock getting hard again, finding it hard to believe that after all this time Jake had apparently wanted me too, this kind of astronomical luck just didn't happen to people.  Jake squirted a drop of the cold shower gel on my cock getting a shivering moan as he lathered my cock and balls, letting his fingers slide back under my ass but stopped just as he touched my hole, still sensitive from the fuck pin.  I winced slightly and Jake looked worried, "Is this...okay?"  I answered by grinding against his hand.  Jake fingerfucked me and kissed my throat.  I smiled as he pushed against my prostate sending a bolt of pleasure through me, "You know, this match sucked..mmm but this-ooooh, makes it not so bad."  Jake grinned as he sucked my earlobe, pressing his fingers deep, "Hmm, just imagine if we ever won a match."

So yeah, we might be the biggest pair of jobbers since the Armstrong brothers, but all things considered, it's not so bad.          

CJ Parker: A "soft" Jobber

I have made no secret of my appreciation for the gym shredded cocky jocks getting in the ring for a heaping plate of destruction and humiliation; however, there is certainly something to be said for the soft bellied baby-fat types that work just as hard if not harder to take their lumps in the ring and make their suffering look tantalizing.  I'm a sucker for the Chaz Taylors and Eddie Jackies of the world. 

Maybe it's the mindset of "hey I don't have the cover model body like a lot of these mat lickers that just flex and flop all over the ring and get the crowds drooling, so I have to step my game up and make every beating look phenomenal." Whatever it is I certainly appreciate it and can watch for hours.
Today I'm posting about one such jobber from BG East that had previously been under my pervy radar as I'll admit I was too busy drooling over Braden Charron's globular backside and Rio Garza's...everything and so on; CJ Parker.

CJ is what I call a plush twink, smooth body, fresh young face, but more hearty than the rail thin build of his stereotypical counterparts. He's not fat by any means but he's got just that right amount of baby jiggle that makes him gasping for breath sweaty and plastered on the BG mats a vision in my opinion. It doesn't hurt that the resident heels can't seem to resist yanking CJ's trunks a mile up his ass splitting his perky cheeks in humiliating wedgies that I like to call divine. Not to mention spanking the healthy backside until it's as red as the apple it resembles. I could watch CJ's shuddering, whimpering, squirming brand of jobbing for days and never get tired.

CJ gets a brief offensive on a bound Aryx

Aryx strips off the striped trunks

Aryx reminds his boy what was at stake

trussed up prize

Not even a full minute and CJ's trunks are a mile high

Best View Ever

Riptide: Troubled Superhero (1)

(Foreword: I know this isn't the usual wrestling content you find in my blog, but I also have a spot for jobbers in the comic book/superhero arena as well. Something hot about the iconic superhero image made to grovel.)

I'm what you might call a superhero.  I mean I have most of the requirements going for me:

1. Hot body; 6' 210lbs 30 inch waist, biceps like softballs and a cobblestone 8 pack set of abs.  Not to blow my own horn or anything but if you're going to run around in leather and spandex you gotta be a healthy specimen am I right? I live in Comber City and doing my best to keep the city safe and look damn good doing it ;-)

2. impressive powers; I have superhuman strength and telekinetic control over water but it takes a lot of energy and concentration so that often gets sketchy.  Can't breathe underwater though...that would have been  even cooler.

3. Flashy costume; to compliment #1.  I figured why not flaunt what i got, besides i need to be streamlined in the water, the less skin covered the better.  Knee high white boots, sea foam liquid latex brief over a matching thong leotard that takes the term "painted on" to a new level, fingerless white gloves and half mask shaped like two waves along my temples. 

4.  Weaknesses: Electricity, yeah sucks right? It's even more deadly to me while I'm "connected" and controlling water with my mind-it's like my body becomes an extension of the water itself and so much as a spark of static electricity from wool carpet can knock me flat on my ass.  I did the 9v battery trick as a kid, was basically comatose for 3 days.  I also get dehydrated fairly quickly and can't go more than a day or two without water, or I'm in pretty fucked shape. 

5.  Arch Enemies. Okay hokey title but you gotta stick with tradition sometimes.  The two biggest thorns in my side? X-Static and Sandstorm.  X-Static was actually a fairly happy employee at the local power plant but sank into bitter madness after an unfortunate accident at the plant after hours that put half the city out of power for a night and put Static (formerly Neil Menza) in the hospital for three weeks, he returned to work for less than a month before he finally quit and Neil was never seen again after leaving his office that last day. Now Neil is known as X-Static, he feeds off and can actively conduct electrical currents, and can actually use lightning bolts to sort of teleport himself anywhere he chooses, so fighting him during storms is basically suicide.  Shedding the thick glasses and lab coat of Neil, Static now terrorizes the city in a suit made of strategically placed white lightning bolts over his pecs and a sheer white brief with a solid bolt covering his crotch and center of his ass.

The other biggest threat to me in the city is Sandstorm.  Bastard is vicious and has nearly killed me on countless occasions.  I've actually never defeated him really-more of a Rocky kind of scenario where he just gets tired of kicking my ass and goes into hiding for a while.  A huge fucking bruiser with shoulders the size of my head, I've gotten my ass handed to me by this guy without even calling up his powers.  He can make gale force winds with his mind and he can turn shapeshift or turn his body into any quantity of sand.  I can't count how many times he's had me suffocating with that lovely combo.  The worst part about him is, I know what he looks like, but he almost never comes out in his natural form so I can be standing right next to him and never know it until it's too late.  In his natural state he's just a big bodybuilder looking blonde dude in a brown speedo and boots, no flair for fashion in that one.  His lackeys Dirt Devil and SunSpot are a force to be reckoned with as well.  Teen twin brother and sister they look fairly harmless, but they can have you begging for mercy in seconds.

The reason I said I'm what you might call a superhero is because I've only been doing this for about 4 years now and frankly so far I haven't been all that effective against my two major enemies and always find myself needing help from heroes in neighboring cities.  Lately it's gotten even worse and I find myself getting humiliated by even the most common convenience store thieves.  It started when Static finally made my weakness public, broadcasting a humiliating session after my latest beating and capture (which also happened mid day at the beach as if that hadn't been bad enough).  Every television in the city and neighboring county saw X-Static's lair suddenly appear interrupting all local broadcasts.

There I was, out cold, sprawled legs wide in a heavy duty metal chair, leaned back like a dental office, my briefs gone, showing my perfect smooth ass trench split by the thong leotard, my mask half ripped off and my gloves gone, hands cuffed in iron bands attached to the chair.  Then, X-Static appeared before the camera, writhing in front of the lens and sliding his hands up and down his cut torso, low voice with a thick rolling accent over the speakers "You've wanted this."  His hands slide inside his sheer brief "You've wanted this" and he starts doing an obscene pantomime of stroking off under the flimsy brief.  before turning around, his sheer lightning bolt covered ass filling up the screen before he walks toward my body in the chair, just starting to moan and come around..."Good you're awake, I didn't want you to miss anything"  X-Static grinned right in my face and just as my eyes opened and I could put up a fight I tried jerking my hands free, muscles in my shoulders bulging as I struggle to break the iron bands.  Viewers at home see X-Static slide a hand across my barely covered chest, catching my left nipple between his fingers.  My eyes roll back and I moan out my back arched and body rigid, what the home viewers don't know is that Static is sending the smallest jolts of electricity directly into my nipple which is like a horribly painful aphrodisiac, can't help growing in my leotard as he continues rolling my nipple.  

Static's hand slides lower, to my abs, lower, out of the camera view, and TV's all over Comber saw their local hero suddenly convulse and almost levitate out of the chair mouth open in a silent O.  Bastard was doing it on purpose-to everyone it looked like I was participating in an X-Rated public service announcement, when I was really in blinding agony to the point that I couldn't even scream.  My cock growing, still out of the camera frame, as he made his forearm visibly flex for the camera, rolling his fingers against my sensitive taint and barely covered ass for kicks, sending mild electric shocks through me.  Would be no more than an irritating tickle to the common man, but for me it was like a horrible ball of erotic massage and needles blasting through my crotch and ass....

  

Muscle Mashing

Anyone who really knows me knows that I have always been a jobber, and I especially like getting dominated on the mats/ring by opponents much smaller than myself in fantasy matches (very David and Goliath if you will)  not to say that I haven't been surprised by smaller guys in legit matches and gotten my ass kicked, but that's beside the point at the moment.  While I do enjoy a smaller guy dominating me, that's not to say I don't enjoy guys closer to my size (6', 220 lbs, 30w, 18"arms) or even big bodybuilder boys taking me down and dominating me.

Hottest real time match I've had to date was over the weekend.  I met this bodybuilder at a new gym, we'll call him Rex, and he actually recognized me from when I used to oil wrestle and dance back in California.  So we got to talking and he said how he had always wanted to get "Mark Muscles" to himself.  My cock practically throbbed as soon as he said it "Sure man! Anyday I'd love some time in a ring with you!" it was set up and I had no idea what I was in for this weekend.  I showed up to his house dressed as he requested; tight pink thong under loose sweatpants, and a black tanktop that was just a bit too small, I had a small overnight bag with a few choices of ring gear.  He opened the door in a pair of flimsy split green jogging shorts, and my jaw dropped looking this muscle god over not even able to hide my lust and awe.  Rex looked me over and grinned "I've wanted to do this for so long!"  with that his arms shot out and he got a
solid pinching grip on my already hard nipples, pulling me into his house by my nips.  My pecs jumping and I uselessly grabbed at his wrists as he pulled me in, kicked the door shut behind me and slammed my back into the door in one fluid motion keeping his grip on my nipples the whole time .  I couldn't believe how fast he was.

Before I could even complain about my nipples he leaned in and his mouth clamped on my neck and I was done for, I moaned out and my eyes slid shut and I was leaning my head giving my neck to him, instantly submitting as his larger frame pressed into mine.  I was hard almost right away and squirming in his grip as he controlled me by my nipple puppet strings.  I heard him raspy in my ear "Damn that was easy"  Just as my head started to clear and I started to ask what he was talking about, suddenly I was flipped around, my chest now pinned to the door and both arms hammer locked behind me "I thought you getting your ass kicked all those times was just for show, didn't think you really were a horny jobber slut."  I felt his free hand slide down my side to my ass, pushing my tanktop up a bit "And you even follow orders!" he laughed as he pulled my sweatpants down a couple inches letting the pink straps show over my hips.  I got angry as he just kept taunting me and I kicked back at his shin-I heard a sharp hiss of breath and suddenly my head was yanked back and BASHED into the heavy wooden door.  My legs buckled and I was nearly out from that one strike "Little bitch" he snarled and pulled my head back again, tucking it under his pit he dropped to one knee and SLAMMED my back over his knee and my arms fell limp at my sides.

Pulled back up to my feet, I felt his arms sliding along my back and then suddenly my feet were barely touching the floor.  My arms locked up in a tight full nelson, my sweats barely staying on my hips feeling him grinding that heavy bulge against my ass.  Walking me like a big puppet to the back of his house where there was an admittedly nice set up for a home ring/gym.  and dumped me to the floor by the ring steps.  My pants were snatched off and I was left in my tanktop and pink thong showing a growing bulge as this guy just dominates me ever since he opened the door.  I start to get to my feet and he immediately planted his foot in my pink pouch making me groan out as I crumpled back to the floor pulling at his huge foot.  From ankle to toe he covered my groin and navel under his impressive foot and as he slowly increased the weight pushing down on my crotch he asked "Do you like that boy?!" evil grin on his face.  I was practically sobbing at this point "No!" I screamed as I bucked under his foot, trying to gain some relief, and feeling my cock thicken in spite of the dangerous position I was in.

I was surprised to see him grin as I told him I didn't like his huge foot crushing my balls.  First he asked me "What are you going to do about it?" in a neutral tone, his eyes wide as if he was genuinely interested to discuss what I wanted to do about him destroying my manhood with one foot, the whole time increasing pressure on my cock and balls, forcing some pre out of me as my cock throbbed between two of his toes.  He grabbed the front of my shirt, snatching me up to my knees and before I could take any defense a hard stinging SLAP across my face only staying on my knees because of his hold on my t-shirt  "I asked you a question" SLAP backhand this time, cracking across my other cheek, both now stinging horribly and I could feel the blush rising in my cheeks at about the same place I could feel pressure rising in the pouch of my thong.  He started to just toy with me then "What!" SLAP "are" SLAP "you" SLAP "gonna" SLAP "do" SLAP "Bitch?" SLAP SLAP SLAP my whole face was red and burning hot, my eyes watering as I weakly put my arms in front of my face trying to beg off or at least deflect the next slap.  I flinched pathetically when he raised his arm again, only to laugh out loud watching this muscle bitch cower in front of him.

"I bet you drive all the heels wild don't you bitch" his voice practically a growl as he walked around my shivering frame, finally stopping behind me and grabbing a fistful of hair pulling me to my feet and forcing me to arch back and lock eyes with him as he toyed with my nipple.  I gasped and from the arched position, I was forced to press my ass against his crotch which he immediately tightened his grip in my hair and SCRUBBED against my barely covered ass making me moan out again.  I'll admit I wanted him bad, and although we had set this meeting with the pretense of wrestling, this was really just me being made a bitch...and I was loving every minute, not even attempting to fight back.  Rex leaned his head down and kissed me hard making me whimper against his lips, his hand slid from my nipple, it slid down my abs, stopping at the straining waistband of my thong making my abs roll as I strained to stroke my aching cock against his fingertips.  But he was no rookie, keeping his hand just out of reach as I moaned pleaded and whimpered for him to touch me.

"You're pathetic you know that" he whispered just before my head was pulled down, and I felt his arm lift up, my face JAMMED into his pit, even ru
bbing my face back and forth in his warm pit.  "See that boy, I fucking own you already and not a drop of sweat"  Which was even more humiliating as I was quivering, taking deep breaths and my chest covered in a sheen already.  Suddenly I screamed into his armpit feeling a huge SMACK across my pecs, and another SMACK right across my stomach, which I had only just relaxed.  Seeing my weakened core Rex SLAP SLAP SLAPPED my stomach, now on fire past the point of flexing to defend myself.  Then his arm rolled, cramming my face even tighter in his pit, shaved smooth, but starting to sweat now, filling my nose with his alpha sweat, could practically taste it as I struggled to break out of this standing dragon sleeper.  Then the end came in the form of Rex's Ham sized fist.  I stumbled as he jumped, still holding my head under his pit and BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM his fist blasted my abs, as he came down he dropped to a kneeling position.  My knees crumbled from the crippling shot to my gut, but I dodn't go far, my body cracked against Rex's bent leg. Immediately feel the palm of his hand rubbing circles over my aching crown, doesn't take long before my hips buck at his touch and my hot cum spills into the straining pink pouch.  Milked and smothered in his muscular arms my body starts to go limp, my arms falling lamely at my sides.

Lifted up, face freed from the armpit I hear "Pathetic" again, before my arms suddenly snap up, my face jerked down cranked hard in a half nelson-Rex traced a finger down my crack, pulling the tail strap of my thong over my bubble ass out of my crack, baring my bitchboy hole to the world, and his throbbing cock that had made its way out of his tiny shorts at some time.  Rex upgraded to a full nelson , pinning my face against the wall to his basement stairs.  Grinding his cock against me, making me moan out even as the nelson threatened to put me out cold.  My drained cock springing to life again as he forced my whole body to hump his wall and he teased my quivering ass.  "I think it's time we let you rest for a bit, that load took a lot out of you" he whispers in my ear, so hot and terrifying all at once.  suddenly turned so my back is to the wall, out of the nelson.  Rex bounced his cantaloupe pecs in my face, suddenly his hand wraps the back of my head, JAMS my face into pecs, FLEXXXXXING them catching my face.  My cock throbs leaking at the sexy humiliation he's decided to lay on my ass, crushing my face in his pecs, smothering me out good this time.  Helpless to do anything about it, punches at his pecs don't even phase him, and his pecs like rock slapbs, making a desperation pec claw futile.

Slowly feel myself fading out as he takes a step back, dragging me by the vice tight grip his pecs have squeezing my face, my legs finally giving out, KO, my cock THROBBING, hanging by the face grip between Rex's massive pecs.

We had many more sessions, with pec, bicep and even smother out sessions in his (BEAUTIFUL) ass!