Producer’s Ring: Marciano vs. Roberts

—continued from The News Division: Match 1

The News Division: Match 2

Marciano vs. Roberts

by Bard

marcianoroberts.jpg

Following the match between Sam and Chris, Rob untied Chris’ bound wrists and Carter, Richard, and Thomas carried bloody, bruised and beaten Sam back up the steps to the house.  Chris silently walked upstairs to shower off, while the rest of the boys plopped down in the living room.  Sam was slowly clearing his head, stretching out on the couch still in his trunks and covered in sand, clutching his bruised ribs.

The plasma screen came on to reveal Eli Brody’s beaming face.

“What the fuck was that!?” Rob shouted at the screen.

“That, gentleman, was marketshare paydirt.  The word is already getting around, and you six are the biggest selling show on bandwidth right now.  Congratulations.  And I’m looking at the hits report for the live feed right now, and there is a very satisfied constituent of your audience watching Chris soaping up in the shower as we speak.”

“They could have killed each other!”  Rob shouted.

“That’s certainly not what I’m hoping for,” Eli replied, “but no one has really measured audience demand for celebrity death sport yet.  I imagine we would split the market if it came to that, which would require an adjustment to our marketing strategy.”

“This is nuts.  I’m not playing your game,” Rob growled.

“And Chris just earned a 2 year contract with his Titan at twice the pay any of you have ever earned,” Eli explained.

All five men suddenly came to full alert.  Chris was already one of the top paid News-Entertainment stars in the world.  Twice the pay would be more money than any of them had dared hope to earn even in their prime earning years.

“And so, Rob, our chatters have selected you for our next contest,” Eli said with a tempting smile.  “They seem to want to see if all of your righteous indignation can be channeled into securing a submission.  I daresay, they may want to see if a two year contract for twice your current pay may entice you to come out and play my game, despite yourself.  Tomorrow morning, you and Thomas are to be on the beach, dressed for combat, at 10 am.  Don’t disappoint your fans, now.”

————————-

The boys ate breakfast in silence the next morning.  Chris and a bruised Sam couldn’t look at each other.  Everyone was waiting to see if Rob and Thomas would show up for their scheduled bout.

At 10am, as Thomas waited with the rest of the boys at the top of the cliff stairs, Rob emerged shirtless from the house, wearing a red speedo.  Carter grinned.  “I thought you didn’t want to play with the rest of us,” he taunted.

“Shut the fuck up you little ass hole,” Rob growled as he intentionally shouldered Carter to the side.  The five remaining boys followed Rob down the cliff stairs to the beach below.

Rob didn’t pause at the bottom of the stairs.  He kept walking until he was halfway to the water.  He then turned around and saw Thomas approaching, also shirtless and wearing a black speedo.  Thomas was already tanned, and his muscles were big.  He was was bigger than Rob, with big pecs and thick arms.  He didn’t have the six-pack that Rob displayed, but Thomas midsection was thin.  His legs were tree trunks, and his bubble butt wasn’t quite contained in his tight black trunks.  His asscrack just showed over the top of his speedo.  Rob’s muscles were smaller, but he had a broad frame and tight gym muscles.  He carried less weight, but he also carried less body fat.

As Thomas stopped in front of Rob, the two sized each other up.  They had worked side by side for about a year now.  Thomas was openly gay, but that didn’t seem to come up much between them.  Rob liked Thomas.  He was a competent professional.  Whenever the two were paired on a broadcast, their ratings shot through the roof.  So they valued each other as colleagues on screen, and had developed a casual friendship off screen.

The horn sounded on the cliff above them, signaling the beginning of the competition.

“We don’t have to fight dirty,” Rob stated calmly to Thomas.  “I like you, and I don’t want to hurt you.  Let’s just wrestle cleanly and show that we aren’t the animals that Eli wants us to be.”

“May the best man win,” Thomas replied.  They shook hands and then began circling one another in the white sand.

The two opponents reached for one another as they circled, assuming a collar and elbow position.  They pressed and flexed against each others’ strength for a few moments, before pushing away from one another in a clean break, no advantage to either.  Suddenly Rob lunged forward with his right leg, his left knee bracing against the sand from behind.  Before Thomas could react, Rob reached between Thomas’ legs with his left hand and across Thomas’ left shoulder with his right hand, scooping him up into the air.  Rob stood for a moment, trying to decide what to do with his vulnerable opponent stretched sideways in his arms.  Finally, he lifted Thomas higher in the air and off his body, and slammed him down on his back in the sand.

Thomas hit the sand and winced in pain, arching his back into the air.  Rob danced from foot to foot, waiting for his opponent to get back to his feet.

Once Thomas climbed back to his feet, the two circled one another again in a collar and elbow lockup.  With lightening fast movement, Thomas suddenly twisted away from Rob, planting his feet and hooking Rob’s shoulder with his right arm.  He tossed Rob head first across his hip.  Rob landed solidly on his back, expelling a small groan of pain.

Thomas waited for Rob to get back to his feet, watching his stunned opponent gently rub his lower back before standing back up.

“Nice throw,” Rob said.  “Thanks,” Thomas responded, not taking his eyes from Rob’s face, waiting for him to telegraph his next move.

Rob lunged forward, driving his right shoulder into Thomas’ midsection and pushing him backward and off his feet, spiking him into the sand.

“Sorry, friend,” Rob said, as he climbed off his prone opponent and got to his feet.  “Like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” Thomas replied, rubbing his abs and smiling up at his opponent.  Suddenly, Thomas kicked his left leg into the back of Rob’s knees, dropping him to all fours on the sand.  Thomas climbed onto his opponents’ back, lacing his thick legs around Rob’s midsection and wrapping his arms around Rob’s windpipe.  “I never told you, though, that I’m sort of into inflicting pain.”

Thomas squeezed his legs around Rob’s torso and flexed his biceps into his windpipe.  Rob squirmed to get out of the hold, but could only manage to pull his chin down far enough to avoid being choked any further.  But to Thomas’ disappointment, he realized that Rob’s abs were too strong to do any damage with his body scissors.  No matter the pressure he applied, Rob’s breathing remained steady and he showed no signs of distress.

“You’re disappointing me Rob.  I want to see you in pain,” Thomas whispered in his opponents’ ear.

Quickly releasing his legs and spinning around on Rob’s sweaty back, Thomas straddled his opponent back to front.  Facing Rob’s feet, Thomas wrapped his arms around his midsection and squeezed, for a moment resting his chin on Rob’s round ass.

“You think you can squeeze me with your arms harder than you can with your legs?” Rob muttered with a laugh.

“No,” Thomas said simply, as he planted his feet on the sand to either side of his opponent and muscled Rob up in the air.  Rob’s legs dangled over his head, which was hanging precariously upside down.  Rob realized that he was in a dangerous position.  “No, no.  Please don’t!” he shouted.  Thomas smiled as he looked down at Rob’s red-clad ass pressed against his chest.  In once smooth motion, Thomas rose on the balls of his feet, drew Rob up as high in the air as he could in his reverse bearhug, and then spiked his opponent head first into the sand.  Thomas followed his own momentum down into a seated position, his legs straddling either side of Rob’s head, now lying face down in the sand just in front of Thomas’ crotch.

Thomas lifted Rob’s head and wiggled downward to rest Rob’s chin on his own hardening cock.  Squeezing his thighs gently around Rob’s head, Thomas leaned back on his elbows and looked down at his dazed opponent.  “No passing out now, Rob,” Thomas said commandingly.  “That’s not my turn on.”  Thomas gently slapped Rob’s face to rouse the stunned hunk.

Rob’s eyes shot open as he fully came-to.  “What the fuck!?” Rob began to shout, but his shout was muffled by Thomas’ massive thighs squeezing his head.  Rob’s face began to turn red from the pressure of Thomas’ powerful thighs.  The lower half of Rob’s face was now buried between Thomas’ contracting legs.  He was just able to breathe through his nose, but even that airway was starting to be constricted by Thomas’ swelling cock pressing against his face.

“Does it hurt, Rob?” Thomas asked conversationally, squeezing with his thighs and leaning back on his elbows.  When Rob didn’t reply, Thomas arched backward, lifting Rob’s head higher off the ground and squeezing even harder.

“Does it hurt, you mother fucker!?”  Thomas shouted.  Robs arms grabbed Thomas’ thighs, attempting to pry them apart.

Thomas’ leaned completely back on his elbows, straightening his body like and arrow and going completely rigid, engaging every muscle into concentrating his crushing hold his opponent’s head trapped between his thighs.  “I’m going to pop your head off like a grape, you mother fucking bastard, until I hear you scream in pain!”  Thomas shouted.

Rob’s arms shot out to the side, tapping his submission on the sand, but Thomas kept squeezing tighter and tighter.

“I’ll take your submission, after I hear you scream in pain!” Thomas screamed.  From deep in his crotch, a muffled cry escaped Rob’s mouth.  Thomas rolled them both over, maintaining his vice grip on Rob’s head, now crossing his ankles underneath Rob’s neck.  Thomas leaned backward in this position, mounted on top of his opponent’s head, maintaining his grip while drawing his erect cock away from Rob’s trapped mouth.

“Ah-ah-ah!!!” Rob screamed in pain.  “I give,” he shouted, breaking down into sobs of pain with tears pouring down his face.  “I give, I give, I give…” he wept, tapping the ground frantically.

“That’s all I wanted,” Thomas smiled, as he looked down at his vanquished opponent.  “That’s all I ever wanted, Rob,” he said lowly.  Releasing Rob’s head, Thomas pulled his ankles from beneath Rob’s neck, leaving him laying on his back in the sand, weeping and gasping for breath.  Thomas planted his hands on either side of Rob’s head and extended his feet to either side of Rob’s feet, stretching out in mirror image over his opponent’s prone body.  From that position, Thomas began doing push-ups over top of his opponent.  With each dip, muscles straining, Thomas slowed pressed his erect cock down on Rob’s.

“One,” Thomas said, pushing back up.  Then again, lowering his body onto his opponent’s, Thomas smiled as their cocks pressed together again.  “Two,” he said quietly.  Then one final time, lowering his body onto Rob’s, this time cradling Rob’s head between his forearms and grapevining his legs around Rob’s legs, resting his full weight on his victim’s body, Thomas said, “Three.”

Thomas rested there, exhilarated by his opponents’ destruction, feeling waves of pleasure course from his cock through the rest of his body.  Once Thomas climbed off of Rob’s still body, Thomas knelt on his knees next to his opponent, looked up at the cliff top, and flexed his double bicep pose.  Both men were covered in sand and sweat.

2 thoughts on “Producer’s Ring: Marciano vs. Roberts

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