gay-wrestling

Ese momento en el que tus padres y familia comienzan a juzgar a los homosexuales y tu no sabes si abofetearlos o huir.
Wrestlerotica: Pride & Punishment 2

I came around feeling something nudging my head and hearing all kinds of garbled voices and…laughing?  I finally got it together enough to open my eyes and realize the thing nudging me had been the asshole’s foot and the voices were his crowd of friends laughing as he made a fool out of me before our match had even started.  I sat up shoving his leg away and realized I was in my wrestling trunks, the shiny blue ones he had especially liked from my pictures I posted.  He turned to face me, “Oh look he decided he wanted to play after all!"  I was getting real sick of this punk’s mouth.

He licked his lips as I stood up obviously still groggy.  “Since this is gonna be a strip match,” the crowd cheered at that, “I took the liberty of helping you pick out some gear.”  He slid his hands along my waist and tugged at the waist of my trunks.  I looked down seeing he had put my tiny purple bikini on under my trunks.  He teased those too, pulling them up in a wedgie before letting my trunks snap back in place.  “Hope you don’t mind.”

I shoved him back scowling as he laughed at me.  “Fuck off, big man has to sucker punch to get an edge in a match?” He rolled his eyes posturing for the crowd miming a baby crying.  “Okay, okay, Jobber’s crying no fair, boo hoo.  So alright, I’ll even it up.”  He stripped his tiny trunks off and stood in just a jockstrap.  His swelling manhood already testing the mesh pouch.  “There, you’re halfway to victory. Call it even?”  

“Fine with me,” I shook my head as it started to clear, “just that much quicker I’ll kick your ass.”  He laughed at that as he eyed me circling on the mat, "You serious?  I already knocked your ass out cold and stripped you to skin-nice by the way- so technically, I already won the match, this is just a formality." 

“With a cheap shot!” He just shook his head, "That how you jobbers do it now? Cry you weren’t ready to get knocked on your ass and hope the other guy gets too tired to fight from hearing you bitch?” That was enough from this clown, I clenched my teeth and charged going for a quick takedown.  I learned that getting my ass kicked was going to be the only thing quick about this match.  He easily sidestepped me and before I could fully stop myself he turned wrapping his arm over my head and pulled me into a running bulldog SLAMMING my face into the mat.  Probably the worst thing that could happen after that KO punch.  My head immediately shattered in waving throbs through my whole skull.  I started to grit my teeth refusing to black out as I got back to my knees.    

He was on me before I even heard his footsteps, grabbing my hair and SLAMMING my face to the mat.  I started seeing spots and heard him laugh again.  “I guess I should have asked this before, have you actually wrestled before? Or did you just buy some pricey trunks and take some selfies in a ring?” I manage to moan out “Fuck you” finally opening my eyes.  He just shook his head, “Come on, now you’re just being rude.”  He yanked my purple briefs up making them a thong sitting high above my trunks making me arch my ass up grabbing at my pouch as he kept my bikini clenched in his fist grinding my balls in a spandex vice.

He kept pulling up as he stood up making me get up as well.  He released my undergear now showing a mile high whale tail.  I barely caught my breath before he BLASTED my gut with a fast knee, doubling me over.  He clenched the back of my neck keeping me bent over and grabbed my trunks with his left hand, wedging them in my ass in his fist letting my ass bubble out and showing more of my purple wedgie thong as he led me around the mat inches from the guys sitting on the bleachers; like a bad dog getting his face shoved in the carpet. 

“All these people came here for a show, and you’ve just been flopping around like a bitch this whole time!” guys in the first row kept slapping my wedgied ass as we walked by until he had taken me a full lap, busting my abs with another knee when I struggled or tried to push him off me.  We finally got back to the middle of the ring, my trunks so twisted that they were pointless, and my purple bikini all but invisible in my crack.  Little good the royal colors were doing me now.  He stood me up grabbing my jaw now, and slapping my face that was more insulting than painful, keeping me off balance. 

“Just because you’re a jobber, doesn’t mean you can’t have some self respect huh?” *slap, slap* “Gonna just come out here like a crash dummy?” *slap* “Bet you like an audience when you get that sexy ass kicked.” *slap, slap, slap* I suddenly roared out, pissed and frustrated.  I shoved him back slapping his pecs HARD making him stumble back, but he was smiling, “There he is!”  He groaned when I ducked charging in and wrapped my arms around his waist, lifting him up in a bearhug. “OH Fuck yeah, there is a man in there after all!”  He squirmed in my bearhug as I swung him back and forth, determined to wear him down and take that jock and the match from him.  I slid my hand over his ass, flexed it felt like a firm impossibly smooth cantaloupe.  I hooked my finger under the straps, yanking them up between his cheeks, “Turnabout you little bitch!” I snarled as I dug my chin against his neck.  His buddies had gotten noticeably quieter as I carried their idol around in a wedgied jock bearhug. 

Then I hear him laugh, a little breathlessly, “Ok jobber, you had your fun!”  I had a moment to register what he said, before his hand shot up, jamming a hard chop to my thorat and squeezing, choking me and the chop to my Adam’s apple made it 10x more effective.  His other hand clamped over my head in a nerve claw, digging into my temple so hard I was sure he was going to break through my skull.  I started to scream as my head exploded in pain, but he just squeezed my throat even harder cutting off air until all I could do was work my mouth letting out pathetic gasps.  I fell to my knees, my arms limply draped over his hips as I started to fade out. 

He loosened his grip enough to pull me back to my feet, my legs shaking threatening to buckle at any minute.  He raised his arm like a gladiator celebrating a sure victory.  “You ready for the fun part yet?!”  a resounding “Hell Yes!” echoed in the huge room.  He took a step back and I tried to croak out “I give” but he either didn’t hear me or he didn’t care.  His hand swung down like a wrecking ball, BASHING my crotch at the same time his hand squeezed my throat, taking breath from me again. 

My body just wanted to pass out at this point, I felt like my brain was trying its best to just shut off and resume function when the pain stopped.  I fought it, my arms waving lamely as he yanked my trunks again, setting me up for a DDT.  My vision faded in and out as he flexed his bicep against my throat and dropped down.  The mat rushed up to meet me, and then nothing.

I came around, my head splitting and I felt him teasing my bulge, my dick beginning to thicken under his fingers, he hooked my trunks, yanking them down my thighs.  I blinked, opening my eyes wide trying to make the room stop rocking as my legs flopped limply to the mat, stripped to my wrenched bikini plainly showing my chub in the thin briefs to the laughing crowd.  “Guess you like getting your ass kicked more than I thought huh?”  He shot a quick jab to my abs and dug in a deep claw. All I could do was put my hands in the way, trying to protect myself, squirming weakly on the mat. 

“Don’t worry jobber, it’s almost over, it’s almost over.”  He stroked my hair like he was talking to a scared toddler before pulling me to my useless feet.  He held me up from behind, both hands clenching my pecs in a claw as I sagged against his chest.  “Aw you’re all fucked up, come on boy.”  He shifted the pec claw to a full nelson and started walking me to the crowd again like a muscular marionette.  “One more lap for your fans!”

  There wasn’t any other word for it, I was being molested.  The lifting pouch on my bunched undergear just made an obvious target for this asshole’s buddies to fondle and grope as he walked me around the bleachers.  All of them were in the front now not wanting to miss a chance to add to this humiliation.  It was even worse because as each hand reached out and teased my pouch it got considerably bigger, thicker, swelling as each sadistic bastard added his own unique touch.  His mesh bulge pressed tight against my ass, throbbing with every twist and squirm as I tried to move out of reach; just to feel the nelson get tighter cranking my neck and shoulders as he jerked his hips forward, stuffing my briefs so far up I would need surgery to take them off again. 

By the time we passed the last bleacher I was hanging in the nelson, being dragged more than walked.  He brought me back to the center of the ring and arched back until my toes barely touched the floor, my arms held up flapping lifelessly as he stuffed my chin into my pecs.  My dick twitching in my briefs the only sign of life.  “I totally forgot guys! I know what the problem is!”  He shouted as he released the nelson.  I started to collapse but he caught me by my neck and pulled my wedgie up to make me stand.  He let me fall back into his chest as he slapped me awake again. 

“We didn’t let you pose! Muscle jobber like you can’t fight until he shows off the goods I should’ve known that.”  When I finally came fully aware he shoved me forward almost to the edge of the mat, “So come on, show off all the muscles I’m about to break down for everybody!” He stepped close behind me as I tried to fight off the fog, and pulled my head back whispering in my ear, “Make it good, or I’ll have to start hurting you.”  He slid his free hand over my heaving abs before squeezing my tented pouch before slapping my ass and taking a step back.He made a “go ahead” motion with his hand when I looked back at him, still too groggy to fully register what just happened.  I looked back at the crowd all staring at me expectantly

I warily turned my side to the crowd and began picking out the yards of spandex stuffed up my ass and flexed my abs, more in tensing for an expected attack eyeing him standing to the side arms crossed and that fucking cocky smirk.  I heard a couple of wolf whistles in the crowd, and he didn’t move from his spot.  So I faced the horny boys on the bleachers and hit a double bicep, which was agony after the full nelson.  I heard to my left “Fuckin unbelieveable” and then his arms were around my head in an iron clad sleeper. “How thick can you get jobber?”  He laughed in my ear as he dragged me back trying to struggle but way too weak at this point.  He jerked me back tightening the sleeper and taking us to the floor.

 

I started frantically tapping my submission on his arm after squirming to get free only tucked his forearm tighter against my neck.  I was already drifting when he said, “Okay jobber, how about you give me that double bi again?”  He jerked me to the left, crushing my head in a vice, “Come on, you got one more in you, and I’ll let you go.”

My arms flopped to the mat, getting so heavy.  I forced myself to lift my arms as he settled in, his bulge practically soldered to my back.  I hit a double bi, and groaned as pain spread through my skull and I began to drop my arms, “Did I tell you to stop flexing?!?” He screamed as he changed his grip, getting on his knees behind me.  I lifted my arms back up, swaying in his hold until I couldn’t keep the pose, one arm dropping to the mat.  He wrapped his legs around me, framing my aching pouch with his feet, spreading my thighs he arched the sleeper hold back.  I moaned out as he basically forced me to hump his feet, sensation driving me wild as he kept me right at barely conscious. 


Finally, a blessing, my body was done and I faded out, 3rd time was the charm and down for the count. I woke up sometime later, naked right where he left me.  A tiny white thong pinned to a stack of photographs on my chest.  The photo had a note on the back that said “Left you this for the rematch, your gear looks better on me anyway.” I turned it over and there was the most humiliating post match pictures of us. I was naked, dick rock hard in every picture as he posed over me in different pairs of my trunks and undergear.  Sitting on my face in my favorite thong, scissoring my bone with his toes as he flexed over me, even one that looked like I was sitting up jerking off while he flexed his bicep in my face, wearing the white briefs I came in!  I punched the mat HARD realizing my bag was indeed missing.  I slipped on the tiny thong and dreaded the drive home.

Part 1: http://thehomoscribe.tumblr.com/post/112532648464/wrestlerotica-pride-punishment-1