Original fiction, inspired by the erotic wrestling hunks of BG East…
(Continued from Part 2)
Abruptly, he climbed to his feet and walked over to my corner, shoving a finger in my face. “Fuck you, Bard!” he shouted. “I’ve taken your shit online for over a year, and I’m not taking your shit one more day.” He shoved me in the chest, backing me into the corner. My adrenaline was pumping overtime in the heat of the Cheshire Cat’s intimidation offense. The heat of the moment made my cock swell, pressing uncomfortably inside my tight trousers. I glanced outside the ring at the Boss, wondering if this was one of the wheels within wheels that made sense of why I’d been invited to “guest referee”: to be on hand for Kid Leopard’s protege to work out a little retribution on an unsuspecting blogger in front of his mentor. Drake towered over me, staring down his nose as I felt my face flush with the rising impulse to fight back, despite my “neutral” assigned role.
Not that I needed to. Trey’s long fingers suddenly appeared between Drake’s powerful thighs and wrapped around the Cheshire Cat’s balls like a vise. Drake’s knees buckled and knocked together comically as he gasped for air, slack jawed. All that rage and ruin in his eyes glazed over as he duck-stepped backward under the control of his opponent’s crushing grasp from behind. Trey looked over Drake’s shoulder and gave me yet another conspiratorial wink. “You said I can twist his balls right off, right ref?” the bronzed beauty asked playfully..
“Fuck yes!” I replied a little more enthusiastically than the ref probably should. Trey’s face screwed up in concentration which, judging by the effect on Drake, signaled still more pressure being applied to crushing the Cheshire Cat’s testicles. Drake dropped hard to his knees, doubling over and clutching at the claw latched onto his balls. Like a felled tree, he slowly collapsed to his side. Trey yanked his hand free from between his opponent’s legs and smiled down as he watched Drake writhe and wriggle in the fetal position.
I stepped forward, but stayed a couple of feet away. “Are you ready to submit already, Drake?” I asked, not because I thought in a million years that he’d submit just yet, but just to rub it in that he was getting fucked over good right now. “Fuck you!” he snapped back, in exactly the raging, wounded tone I’d expected.
I stepped back out of the way as Trey bent forward and grabbed Drake by the ankles, rolling him to his back. Spreading his opponent’s legs wide apart, Trey drove his naked heel hard into Drake’s crotch. The air exploded out of Drake’s lungs. The blow was so savage even my balls felt just a twinge of sympathy pains. I backed all the way into the corner and leaned against the ropes as Trey yanked his opponent’s ankles wide apart again and stomped viciously into his lower abdomen. By the screech of agony, I guessed that the head of Drake’s cock took a glancing shot from the blow.
Smoothly, Trey rolled his opponent over, stepping his left foot over the back of Drake’s legs and hooking his ankles under his arms. Wrenching his opponent’s legs backward into a Boston crab, the golden boy squatted low, cranking Drake’s lower back into a sick, sick angle. Fuck, that’s gotta hurt, I was thinking a half second before Drake screamed, pounding his fist angrily to the mat.
“Was that a tap out, Drake?” I asked, hurrying forward and dropping to one knee next to his handsome face. “You calling it quits, Drake Marcos?!” I shouted when he didn’t immediately answer me.
“Fuck, you, Bard!” he spat furiously, sucking down the pain. I stood and shrugged, “Wrestle on, then.” Impressively, the Cheshire Cat pulled his upper body up to rest on his elbows. Trey struggled to keep his balance, which allowed just enough give in the hold for Drake to crawl a couple of feet forward on this elbows and grab a rope. He pulled on the rope, twisted his body, and kicked hard all at the same time. Trey tumbled forward, gracefully rolling up to one knee.
As Drake dragged himself up to his knees by the ropes, I couldn’t help but enjoy the observation that sweat was already dripping from his forehead. Trey’s yellow singlet was also sweat stained where the fabric plunged so intimately into his ass crack. From the pressure in my crotch, I was pretty sure I was also just a little “stained” myself, but that was a fleeting thought as all my attention was riveted on the action unfolding before me.
Trey charged forward, reaching down to grab his opponent’s ankles again. Smoothly, Drake swept his left leg hard into the back of the golden boy’s knees, dropping Trey unceremoniously to his ass. With an astonishing burst of energy, the Cheshire Cat dove on top of him, sliding wetly to his side and locking his long, powerful legs around Trey’s midsection. I knew exactly what Trey meant when he bit his lower lip and his face flushed beet red. Those fucking legs are sensationally strong. And Drake knows it. Slowly, Trey fell backward to his elbows, fighting against the pressure rearranging his internal organs. Drake lifted his torso up onto his right elbow to bear down that much harder. A groan of exquisite agony escaped reluctantly from Trey’s lips. Bending sideways, Drake reached down and latched his left claw onto his opponent’s balls in revenge. That groan churning out of Trey’s chest exploded into a scream of panicked pain.
Honestly, I swear, the whole scene was so sensationally hot that I completely forgot my job. “Fucking ref!” Drake snapped angrily at me. “Ask him if he’s done now, you bastard!” It took me a few seconds to come to my senses, but sure, I crossed the ring and leaned over Trey’s screwed up face. “Are you ready to submit, Trey?” I asked, most definitely not wanting to hear an affirmative answer. Biting his lower lip so hard I was afraid he’d bite right through, he shook his head violently side to side.
“No love, Drake. Wrestle on,” I said, backing toward a corner. Drake’s wrist twisted as he wrenched violently on the golden boy’s distended pouch, bulging between his clenched fingers. Trey screamed again, louder this time. “Ask him again, ref!” Drake demanded angrily. I ignored him. Trey knew how to make this all come to an abrupt end, and me asking him again wouldn’t change anything. “Ref!” Drake shouted at me again. “You fucker!”
A solid, pointed jab to Drake’s gut gave Trey enough room to suck down some air. Another flailing gut punch made the Cheshire Cat’s ankles pop open. Trey rolled to his side, freeing himself from those vile scissors. Drake quickly rolled up to his hands and knees, his left arm wrapped protectively across his tenderized lower abdomen.
Drake dove across the distance between them, but Trey rolled with the momentum. They tumbled across the mat until Trey came to a halt mounted atop his opponent’s chest. Swiftly sliding forward, he pulled on Drake’s head and rolled to the side, snapping his ankles together and bearing down in crotch-to-face headscissors. If I were watching this at home, I’d be preparing to push pause and rewind right around that moment. Drake’s lips pressed involuntarily against his opponent’s ample yellow pouch made me hard as granite. The golden boy pulling on his opponent’s hair, squeezing his flexed thighs in waves of skull crushing pressure was almost too arousing to resist unzipping my trousers then and there. Suddenly, I noticed The Boss’ camera trained on me, I’m pretty sure zoomed right in on my tented crotch. Watching him watching me watching them for someone else to watch us all. Fuck, this whole scenario just turned insanely meta.
Trey’s whimper of pain drew my eyes and The Boss’ camera back to the real story. No shit, Drake was biting his opponent’s balls! Trey’s legs popped open as he rolled to his back, the Cheshire Cat’s teeth still latched to his testicles through fabric of his singlet. I had no idea Drake had that level of rage bubbling up inside of him! Even as he let go of his mouthful of tasty agony, he hooked Trey’s knees with his shoulders and rolled the golden boy up. Prying his opponent’s legs apart and pinning Trey’s feet to the mat on either side of his head, Drake had the pretty boy pinned squarely to the mat.
“Count him out!” Drake snarled at me, but I was already dropping to my stomach, checking that, indeed Trey’s shoulders were square to the mat. “One!” I slapped the mat hard next to Trey’s head. “Two!” I barked. Suddenly Trey’s entire body coiled and uncoiled violently like a spring. Drake tumbled backward as the golden boy dragged himself to the nearby ropes to begin pulling himself off the mat. I had only reached my hand and knees when Drake charged into me, grabbing me by the throat with his right hand and dragging me to my feet. “What the fuck was that!?” he shouted into my face, spit flying. “You call that a count!?”