Blogger Reckoning: Part 5 – by Drake

In what I’m told is the penultimate chapter in Drake’s compositional response to my New Year’s piece of wresting fiction, I’m happy to see that I get some reasonable offense in before Drake’s blogger destruction, jobber retribution fantasy turns to my harsh punishment. For the record, if I’m going to get dominated by the Cheshire Cat, I can think of no other way I’d want it than to have his sensational legs wrapped around my ribs. And, fuck yes, I’d be sucking on that pain in order to work in some well-earned adoration of Drake’s hot, powerful thighs. Things don’t look good, dear readers, for my fate, but in a cliffhanger to rival the Walking Dead, I do like the sound of the ending of this chapter!

Blogger Reckoning – by Drake Marcos

Part 5

Drake does have lovely legs.

“Boys! Boys!” I heard Kid Leopard’s voice cheerily call out from ringside as I saw him moving swiftly, the camera brace on his shoulder, his finger ready to go on the [REC] button.

I smiled and turned, beaming beatifically at the boss, giving him a little double biceps flex. “Want to record this for posterity, huh? Little stinger for the client?” I smirked.

“But of course, you know I’m all about fan service and…seeing you beat on someone…well…that’s just got to be seen to be—ACTION!”

I saw the boss’s eyes widen and his finger click but it was way too late by that point as I felt more than saw the blue speedos getting pulled across my throat as my body was dragged back across the ring away from the boss and his whirring camera.

My eyes widened and I gagged and thrashed as I managed to regain my footing, Bard shaking me like a ragdoll as he tightened the blue speedos around my throat. I clawed at the spandex and felt my cock jump a bit as the lack of air creating a sense of sensual euphoria and groaned, my tongue sticking out as I rasped for breath.

“Never turn your back!” Bard laughed and yanked me from side to the side. I coughed and groaned and began to sag.

“Now…now this feels much more familiar…” Bard quipped as I dropped to one knee in the middle of the ring, my hands reaching out for the ropes as my vision started to fuzz over, my mind numbing as I was forced to stare into the blinking red light…the black lens of the camera that seemed to be growing ever wider, swallowing…swallowing me whole…savoring my humiliation.

I rocked back on my haunches as my lust for air went unsated and felt some firm resistance pressing into the back of my head and I remembered…Bard was naked…and winning.

“All that nice, new muscle doesn’t change a thing, jobber boy. It just makes it that much sweeter to feel you failing in the face of my strength.” He said, his voice sounding like poisoned honey dripping from his lips.

Not the first time Drake’s been choked!

My hand faltered in the air and came back to pull at the fabric. I let out a startled gasp, I’m sure my face was an alarming shade of red at this point as my brain started to threaten a full government shut down due to lack of blood flow.

Although the blood was flowing…just to all the wrong places…

As I saw the winks of the red recording light on the camera grow longer, and longer, my movements sluggish and weak, I found myself rocketing forward as Bard released the choke and kicked me between the shoulder blades, throwing me face first to the mat as I groaned, gagged, and retched crawling to the ropes.

I pulled myself up weakly, shaking my head, my eyes feeling like they were ready to pop out of my skull and rubbed my neck as I held an arm out behind me, holding the rope for balance and stability. I saw Bard pulling the baby blue speedos back on he had just employed to nearly unceremoniously choke me out.

I gave him a sneer, a withering glare that I’m sure ended up coming out more cute than threatening. That pitying, annoying fucking grin was enough proof. I made a wide, limping circle, staying out of reach, sucking down air, trying to buy time so I could renew my attack, and make it effective.

Old man river’s going to fucking pay!

He stopped mid-ring and held his hands aloft, cocking his head to the side.
“Now…NOW we’re on equal footing jobber boy…let’s try that again…” He smirked.

I hesitated, letting my eyes take him in for a moment…aside from a few red marks and sweat he didnt look like he had just been put through the ringer. Which he most certainly fucking had! …he seemed almost fresh as a daisy.

I swallowed hard, knowing that he was right…we were on equal footing…the camera was rolling…and the boss…was watching.

I raised my hands and crept in warily.

I could tell he wanted a test of strength but I came in low and locked up tight with him, forcing him into a collar and elbow, knowing I stood a better chance if I could use height and leverage and my full body weight more so than just arms and back. I shoved into him hard, my throbbing cock leading the way, distending the front of the trunks.

It was at this moment I was happy that he had put ont he trunks because if I had to do battle with a naked Bard…I would have been severely distracted.

We muscled and flexed and shoved against each other hard, my hairy chest grinding against his smooth pecs like a scouring pad, our jaws pressed against each other as we both widened our stances and battled for ground and dominance. I felt and saw my biceps pop and swell a bit as I growled and pulled my head back, looking him right in the eye and shifted my foot, giving him a few inches of ground, allowing me to bend my back knee and lunge forward as I shoved against his upper body with everything I had and managed to lift a knee only to land a glancing blow to his ribs. But it was enough.

He grunted and doubled up a bit and I lifted another knee to his gut, this time landing deep in his belly and he groaned and gasped, folding over more. I lifted an arm high in the air and growled and fired the point of my elbow deep between his shoulder blades. He cried out and dropped to his knees arching his back,  head hanging over my feet.

Right where he fucking belonged.

I stepped forward, lifting my knee and prodding his head with it. He looked up at me and it must have been a beautiful sight, his eyes traveling from my sweat soaked hairy quads to my bulging basket, my flat, defined stomach, my ever-developing pecs covered in that sweaty mat of signature fur and then finally to the grin that had won me my moniker from him. The only good thing he ever gave me besides free publicity.

He rubbed at his back for a moment and grabbing at my waistband and pressing one hand to my quads to balance himself as he rose a bit up off of his knees, I cocked back and gave him a stinging bitchslap right across the face, watching the spit fly from his mouth.
He looked back up at me with a mocking grin of determination as he lunged forward and buried his shoulder in my abdomen, knocking the wind out of me and taking me to the mat.

Drake can scissor for days.

I grunted loudly as we hit the canvas together, him scrambling on top of me for position, grabbing my arms and trying to pin them to the mat. I realized that I was beat in the test of strength on the ground and did the only thing I could at that moment. I growled and snapped my legs tight around his ribs. His grin evanesced and morphed into a grimace of pain as I growled and tightened my “bear-trap” around his ribs, him forgetting the test of strength as he reached to my quads, punching and pulling at them as I growled and flexed, shaking his body while he remained trapped.

He sat back on his haunches and battled ineffecutally with my legs as I smiled and laced my hands behind my head, staring down the length of my body at the squirming form of my trapped prey.

I felt his hands go to my thighs again, but this time, even though I could tell he was in pain, his hands turned to worshipful strokes my thighs.

I smirked.

“Yeah, boy, that’s right,” I smiled and unlaced my hands to give him a double bicep flex and flexed my whole body so he could see the newly earned muscle swelling all over my body.

“I learned a few things from you the last time we locked horns…I’m not making the same mistakes.”

I actually saw tears…Fucking tears! in his eyes so I eased up a bit, not being a TOTAL sadist and let him resume his worshipful stroking of my legs as I moved my arms behind my head again, letting my biceps bounce as I watched him drool all over my thighs.

The man has amazing hands, I’ve gotta say. Nice…and soft…like bitch hands…they felt great. So soft that my bulge began to swell in my pink pouch, stretching the zipper covering. He noticed and his hands moved to my bulge and began massaging with one hand, the other working my flexed thighs.

Then, my world exploded.

——- to be continued ——-

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