Choke out yeah!

22nd july 2017

I am having an absolute blast learning the skills of the side of pro wrestling I have a great guy to teach me and its an absolute pleasure to be thrown around the ring,,there is so much to learn but its worth it
I have also met great guys of all skills and levels who have encouraged and worked with me ,
I will say pro is like marmite you either hate it or love it ,but I have always liked marmite ,
if any of you guys would like to join me for a pro session id be happy to show you what I have learnt and what safe and fun it is, I'm also doing some boxing as well bit rusty but you soon get back into it .
I have my new pro boots and wow its great I feel on top of the world.

Choke out yeah

Welcome back, readers.

For those who haven’t read Parts 1 & 2, this story attempts to verbalise the lifelong rivalry I’ve shared with my cousin Tommaso, who is 1 year older than me but otherwise identical in most ways.

In Part 1 I described the first time one of our usual scraps for dominance became sexual.

In Part 2, ten years later, that spark was rekindled as we jostled over Tom’s fiancée, Fran – my school crush.

This entry picks up not long after that.

What a crazy six months it has been in the Marrone family.

If this blog entry seems more extreme than those previously shared, it’s in keeping with the real life events they are based off. As requested by some readers, I will specify when I’m deviating away from reality and into ‘what if’ territory.

It’s also going to be long, so get comfortable.

I can recall three distinct memories that flooded my mind as I mounted Fran. Yes, you read that correctly. I was sleeping with Tom’s girlfriend, a mere two weeks after they announced their engagement. I can say with a clear conscience that it wasn’t planned – she came back to my place having left some stuff here from the time they both crashed. We hadn’t spent any time alone together since being at the school we all attended, which only served to exacerbate that spark that hung in the air between us.

Now there was only that spark as we stood in the spare bedroom of my flat, inches apart in silence as the small talk died. It propelled me forward to kiss her, and she didn’t resist.

The first memory was of the original treachery. On a school trip to France, Fran and I had fooled around a bit – in that teenage way, a few kisses here and there. Now holding hands on the bus as she slept on my shoulder, my naïve 13 year old self had assumed we had some understanding. I found out a couple of weeks later that she was now with Tom, my cousin, and they remained together to this day. It stung because seeing them was like looking in a mirror – though our bodies have changed, Tom and I have always been facially identical. At the time I wondered if perhaps Fran had just got confused between us.

I left no room for confusion now, as I pinned Fran down on the bed and she gasped as I bit her exposed neck. It was stiflingly hot and her breasts were plastered to my chest, sweat creating a natural lubricant as I went in for the kill.

I know my audience so will spare you the sex details, but suffice to say that as I entered her (seemingly a perfect fit), the second flashback hit me.

Tom and I sharing a room in Italy on our annual family road trip, around 15 or so, lying next to eachother and wanking off while watching the Miss Italia swimsuit contests. Those weird bro moments that were somehow acceptable in our teens. Our arms were linked around eachother’s shoulders in a half-hug as the other hand furiously beat off our recently acquired 7 inches.

As we got closer, we naturally tightened our grip on eachother, so that on one side we were touching all the way down our bodies. I remember the sound of our cotton briefs rubbing together as we lay side by side. When he came, in his ecstasy he grabbed a handful of my fledgling right pec with his free hand, which made me shoot too, and writhing there in the moment I bit down on his shoulder. With both our eyes closed, our evenly sized cockheads glanced off eachother, just for a second. When I opened my eyes I noticed we had a thin string of cum hanging between the two still hard, glistening members. His or mine?

Now as I was thrusting in and out of his fiancée, the only sounds our moans and the slapping of our meshed loins, the experience felt similar. Looking at myself on top of her in the wall mirror, it was like seeing Tom, an act of double penetration in absentia, our warring cocks hitting eachother aside as we fought to get Fran to climax.

Which brings me to memory three, which is impossible to forget as it happened the previous week. The family, including our grandfather, the Don, had found out I was bi. I hadn’t seen Tom, but I knew he was the culprit. He was one of the only people in the world who knew that secret, and only then because he had caught me once with a guy. I was now on the receiving end of messages across the family, and the priest for that matter, and I was dreading the next family meal where I, the golden child in a culture where appearances and machismo are so important, would be subject to the Italian inquisition.

So yeah, while what happened with Fran wasn’t planned, in the moment there was a certain degree of smugness in revenge. Let him get cuckolded by the fag.

But once it was over and Fran had left, I realised that our rivalry had morphed, become heightened. This wasn’t a sports medal or promotion or some other act of petty one-upmanship. We’d always both loved and hated eachother – but now we were playing hardball with eachother’s lives.

There was bound to be a reckoning. As you can see from my latest pics I have gained some significant mass between then and now – this is no coincidence. I started working out every day for the first time in my life.

Cut to two weeks later. Tom and Fran had their engagement party, which I didn’t attend. It looked bad, but I was in hiding, and took it out on the weights. A couple of days after that, I got a message out of the blue from Tom.

'Hey cuz. Missed you at the party. Want to get a work out in tomo night? Your gym {muscle emoji]'

We rarely worked out together because it usually ended in someone trying to take too much weight and pulling a muscle. Something was up but I accepted and we set a time – 8pm.

The gym was practically empty save a few regulars, as I arrived in my lycra top and swimshorts that I had chosen because they accentuated every muscle. To that effect, I did a few sets of pushups while I waited for Tom to arrive.

I got up just in time to look natural when the door swung open, and Tom arrived with his brother, my other cousin Davide. Davide was nearly 10 years younger than us, the same age as my own brother, and so he didn’t really have a place in the ecosystem of our rivalry. He’s a good guy and I like him a lot.

Our curse of coordination continued as Tom was sporting an identical outfit, just a different colour top. I seethed as I saw that he filled it out perfectly – he always seemed to have the edge on me in physique no matter what I did. Ever the fat kid.

We exchanged pleasantaries under a veneer of normality, not hugging as usual but instead nodding as we stepped to eachother. There was clear tension in the air between us from the moment we were both in the same space.

Davide did a lot to pacify things, so I said everything I wanted to with my eyes as we began to work out. We were scoping eachother out from across the gym, upping our weights as we went from station to station and Davide ran on the treadmill, oblivious. Ridiculous for two adults, but there it was.

At one point we both reached for the same dumbbell and Tom grabbed my hand – I thought we might just go at it there and then, jacked up to our prime, everything unspoken but all understood. Instead he released my hand and grabbed the next weight up. Fucker.

Things continued like that for about an hour, until I called it and went to shower. Davide signalled he was going to run for a bit longer – no wonder that kid is so lanky.

I stripped off the lycra top with some difficulty, given the sweat levels, and headed for the shower cubicles. I caught myself in the mirror en route and flexed my pecs. Don’t you just love that post-gym pump? I turned on the water and still had my swimshorts on when I heard the lockerroom doors slam open.

It turns out that Fran had had a bout of catholic guilt, and revealed all about our night of passion on the day of the engagement party. That’s the hypocrisy of Italian relationships – the man can sleep around unrepentantly, but when his girlfriend cheats it’s a mark against his honour.

I barely had a moment to comprehend what was going on when Tom stormed into the cubicle and pulled the door shut behind him, the lock clicking into place. In the confined space we were nose to nose and, for the moment, alone, water running down my back.

“Nowhere to hide now, cunt” he said in Italian – using fica, which also means cunt-chaser. “I was ready to rip your fag balls off at the party.“

My blood was up and I hadn’t noticed that we were forehead to forehead, pressing against eachother. “What bro? what? what?" I found myself spitting into his mouth which was millimetres away from my own.

“I’ll fucking end you that’s what!” he scowled, grabbing me by the throat and pushing me back under the shower jet, hitting my head against the tile. He lay some thick punches to my abs with his free hand, as I reached to strangle him with both of mine, my large hands barely encompassing his chunky neck.

Releasing his hold he grabbed me by both of the pecs and somehow managed to lift me up against the wall and slam me against it repeatedly, him crying out in primal rage and exertion at lifting my 85KG in this way, and me crying out from the pain of his fistsful of my meaty chest. When he dropped me we clinched and exchanged body shots, knees and punches to the side in unison in the cramped space.

We said nothing, the only sounds were the water and the grunts it took to give and receive the blows, and the thwacking of fist on flesh. I noticed that my chest was bleeding from where he’d grabbed me, as it dripped and spun down the plughole. Although we were body to body, for once where was no tenting of the shorts from either of us. This was a nasty fight.

I pulled down on his shirt from the back of his neck to choke him with it, and it ripped a little from the force. He instinctively grabbed at it and stepped back a little. I followed this up with a headbutt, allowing me the chance to unlock the door and get out of there. I was a little dizzy from the blows and wanted out. But Tom was having none of that, as I paced away from the showers he ran after me and tackled me from behind at the crotch the ground.

We clinched on the ground to get face to face again, sliding along the tile floor. He bit down on my neck, and I roared fiercely, wrapping both arms around his midsection in a phenomenal bearhug squeeze. Using all the force I could muster I flipped us both over and we fell headlong down a flight of 5 tiled stairs that separated the shower room from the main lockers. 170kg of pure Italian anger landed in the lockerroom, where now there were a couple of onlookers returning from the gym. These guys were scrawny and probably couldn’t have broken us up if they wanted to. But they were content to watch, with the occasional “Fuck!” and “This is serious”.

Actually this section from a WWE match gives some nice flavour, skip to 10:12: http://dai.ly/x6ajgo

Tom was now mounting me and had his hands around my neck. I punched into his chest hard and he released and fell on top me with a smack, his ripped shirt exposing his perfectly sculpted pecs that were now pressing into mine. Both of us now had our hands over eachother’s mouths and noses, smothering and clawing.

After some time writhing like this, I managed to flip this giant hunk of meat that at that moment felt like my mortal enemy over again by pulling on his shorts, so I was on him, water dripping everywhere, with my forearm against his throat. He grabbed a handful of hair and I matched him, bringing another headbutt down and pressing my full weight down on his body. We used our free arm for punches to the side, as our powerful legs locked up to a stalemate position.

At this point Davide came into the locker room. “What the fuck?” I heard somewhere behind me, as he moved in to restore order. Sanity momentarily returned and we pushed away from eachother, Davide standing between us. “Guys, whatever this is, stop!”

“You got exactly what you deserved” I spat at Tom, past his brother. “And she loved it too”.

That was enough to kick things off again, with us both trying to circle around Davide and the onlookers who were now in the way, to connect with eachother again. Tom literally threw his brother to one side while I ran around and scrambled over the benches to get to him, and we crashed into eachother once more, both of us letting out a gasp at the force hitting us. He pushed me away, grabbed a handful of hair and slugged me hard, which took me aback, but I returned it with quick jabs to his face which made him stagger too. We looked at eachother as if in a mirror, realising we had given eachother a bloody nose. Neither one of us was going to submit, and neither cared. It was just a gratuitous, primal slugfest.

We were going for another clinch when Davide got up and was between us again. “Just stop it now, or I’ll call dad down here”.

That brought us back to reality and we realised the ridiculousness of what we were doing. “You’re fucking done, faggot” Tom scowled past his brother. Grabbing a towel, they both left the gym, leaving me panting for breath in the locker room. When he’d gone, I could suddenly hear how fast my heart was beating, and a low growl that I must have been emitting the whole time.

Believe it or not, this fight was only the start of a crazy period in our family.

Tom and I got into the habit of exchanging some brutal trash talk via whatsapp, getting very creative with the insults. We both wanted to have a final resolution to this feud, which we knew would inevitably be a clash of the titans face off in private somewhere.

In the interim, Davide had told his father, my uncle Alessandro what had happened. I realised that he put two and two together when a week later I found him knocking on my door in London.

My uncle Alessandro always cut an imposing figure. He is the Don’s first son, a gym bunny and had practised martial arts. Whenever I see him I’m reminded of a time when I was staying over at his house, and Tom and I were scrapping in bed late at night. I was straddling Tom and pinning his arms down over his head with what in those days was my superior weight (i.e. flab).

Sandro came in to tell us to shut up, he was trying to sleep. Like a true Italian, he slept in briefs. To my 10 year old self he looked huge, a bulging chest covered in dark hair, and thick heavy-set legs. When he saw that I was on top of his son, he strode over to the bed and threw me aside like a doll. “Think you’re the wrestling champion do you?” He replicated the move I was just doing, pinning down my arms with what felt like immeasurable force. I squirmed trying to get free, and remember my own briefs rubbing lamely against his huge dormant bulge. I kicked at his sides to no effect. “Accept defeat” he said, “and know that we are the top dogs in this family”. He meant it in a good natured way then, but given my golden child status with my grandparents I know he’s always hated my guts.

Standing face to face with him now 20 years later, he was greying but still a sight to behold. He occasionally worked out with my stepdad on top of his own regime. But in the meantime, I had grown too, and the fear of him thumping around Tom’s house that I used to feel was a distant memory.

“I need to have a word with you.”

We went into my living room, where I had a fire going. We remained standing as he began to lecture me, who did I think I was, I always thought I could get whatever I wanted, and so on. And then the line that struck me, “and I always knew you were a faggot”.

I was half tempted to reveal the gay-ass shit Tom and I had got up to when he last stayed in this very flat we were standing in, but I didn’t want to incriminate myself further.

I maintained that Tom struck first by outing me to the family, and he even attacked me first even though I had good cause to start some beef.

“Stealing someone’s woman is a whole other ballgame.” He said, and suddenly seemed to get much bigger. “It’s an insult to me as the head of the family”. Bitch please, it’ll be a sorry day when the Don passes away and that statement is actually true.

Getting quite pissed now, I said I’d heard enough and I think you’d better leave before you say something you truly regret.

“I don’t think you understand. You’ve insulted my family, and I’m here to remind you that we are the top dogs in this family, and we deserve respect”.

Now, what actually happened here is that from nowhere, my uncle laid a slap across my face that knocked me to the ground. He spat on me, dusted himself off, and left. This started a chain of events in my family that is still being borne out today.

However, for the sake of the story, let’s say he stayed. What would I have done? Of course it would be satisfying to turn the tables and kick his ass.

This blog has gone on long enough though, so I’ll just share some videos of how I imagine that going. If you’d like me to type it up into a story, just message me.

He’s still bigger than me, so I imagine a slightly uneven muscle off like the below:

http://www.bwnvideo.com/Catalog/Black%20Muscle%20Wrestling%20Series/Black%20Muscle%20Wrestling%203/blackmuscle3.htm

https:// youtu.be / _mr83Mk5BAY (separated to avoid weird formatting)

http://www.bwnvideo.com/Catalog/Exotic%20Wrestling%20Series/Exotic%20Wrestling%206/exoticwrestling6.htm

https:// www.youtube.com /watch?v=icviSFNDGOQ

https:// www.dailymotion.com /video/x1zd4m7

After the smackdown, things escalated between our families. When my stepdad, who’s English, heard about it, I knew he’d have words with my uncle. They’d had a failed business venture together and couldn’t stand eachother.

But, being family they still worked out together occasionally. I heard on the grapevine that there had been some sort of confrontation between them about what had happened, but I can’t confirm for sure if there was a fight. My stepdad wouldn’t tell me. For reference, my stepdad is huge. English guys tend to be stockier than Italians, and his manual work only exemplified that. I have often wondered who would win in a wrestle between them. Again if you’d like that to be explored, just message me.

In the interim, here’s a few videos of how it might go.

https:// www.dailymotion.com /video/xy62tj

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5905a3127be09

https://www.meetfighters.com/videos/Two_boxers_jfgfyadn_jfgfyadn

Once the rumours of this confrontation spread among the males of the family, even Davide and my little brother got involved. He told me that they'd got into an argument at school about it, and ended up scrapping on the walk home to defend each brother’s honour. I got some of the details, it sounded very scrappy – kinda Fightplace style. Apparently it blew up again at home when they were hanging out after school that day. Being half English, my brother has some of the stockiness of his dad, which would give him some advantage. It’s funny to think of another cousin rivalry spawned by the first.

Here’s some videos of how I imagine that fight could go between the lil scrappers:

https://youtu.be/IRhDHjHdLtI

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph58c0d0f2ab379&pkey=41601022

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5889715049d69

https://www.gayforit.eu/video/250068/Robbie-Cardenas-Erotic-Wrestling

As we approached April and my shared birthday with the Don, I knew it was going to come to a head.

A small number of family members were flying back to our village in Italy for the celebration – the Don’s 80th.

Sure enough, I got a message from Tom saying he’s booked us a room. “Only one of us leaves as a true Marrone”.

But for that explosive conclusion you’ll have to wait for Cousins, Rivals Part 4: Alpha Showdown!

If winning is everything, why is that that in any wrestling match there is only one winner? Basic math tells us that when it comes to wrestling, winning is only half the story. Two men start the match, both (assumingly) out to win; yet only one man prevails. 50% of combatants win; while the other half will lose. It's just a basic fact about our sport.

Take me...I've been a jock for most of my life. And though I'm into my 50's now, I still consider (and define) myself to be an athlete at heart. Winning is something that I was programmed to be focused on. I worked hard on my high school football team to be the best linebacker possible. With determination I fought to take my team to the state championship. I used this same determination as a short stop in baseball; never stopping short to play with all I had. Yet wrestling, as you know, (if you follow my blogs) was the sport that truly caught my passion and drove me to accept the fact that winning is everything. But, sadly, winning is only half the story.

In any sport there's a winner and there's a loser. Someone will always come out on top. One person has to accept the concept of the "agony of defeat". Despite all of my skills and drive to succeed, a loss for me was actually a learning experience. With a loss, I learned that somewhere in the match, I made a mistake. Perhaps I missed an opportunity. Maybe I left myself open for a move. My defenses were down. My offense fell short. In my analytical mind, I needed to find out WHY I lost. In a way, I accepted defeat as a natural option – yet I hated the thought of it. When I won a tough match, I never replayed it over and over thinking about what I did right. Yet, with a loss, it stayed fresh in my mind. I'd recall each move, each defense and replay the match over and over and over again until I could pinpoint that ONE moment where I let winning, slip through my hands. I'd dissect the match until I learned from my mistakes. (I'd obviously have to assume that I made a mistake since my ego didn't want to think that the other wrestler was actually better than me.) What this taught me was the while winning was everything; losing provided a much better way to learn the sport. It was through losing that I could make an honest assessment of skills and performance. I'd learn from my mistakes and come up with a game plan to correct it; and include it in my arsenal of moves and defenses. I learned to train harder and smarter to avoid the loss. With each win, I added another notch to my win column; but with each loss I added three and four times the skills I needed to win.

Fast forward to a now where I'm still the guy who has the passion and drive; but may be a bit slower (I'm giving myself some credit here). While I'm still the same competitive, driven guy I've always been, there are times when I get outsmarted and out-wrestled. I accept that loss; but then continue to make improvements. I'd like to think that I don't get beaten by the same man twice; but that depends on my ability to learn. One loss shouldn't define you. But on the flip side, don't wrestle solely for the purpose of winning. If you're winning all your matches, maybe you aren't taking on the tougher opponents. Challenge yourself. Maybe you're trying to over-compensate for another area of your life and your ego needs the win. Lighten up. No one likes a sore winner. Remember, winning is only half the story. See what losing can do for you.

Hey guys, hope everyone (in my hemisphere, anyway) is having a great summer! This is my first time experiencing summer with a body that's fitter and more able to take the heat... and I'm loving it.

Unfortunately, spending so much time running, biking and hiking has left less time for wrestling, and left me more sore. A few months ago while running, I even got a massive bruise when I tripped and fell on a root. And aside from my newfound love of the outdoors and sweating in the sun, special events for my job, visiting friends and weekend events (like Shakespeare in the Park this weekend) have kept me very busy (and, when I'm not, often tired and/or sore).

Long story short, I have slowed down wrestling a bit for now, and am sorry to my regular opponents for any frustration with it being harder to pin me down (cheesy pun intended). However, I am still working on improving my strength and skills, so rest assured we WILL meet on the mat again soon and I'll be putting up more of a fight than ever!

Enjoy your weekends, guys!

My first official match on Meet the Fighters pitted me against another sexagenarian of equal weight but with a wrestling background.  At the start of our three-hour match, MatureJOfan was kind enough to give me some pointers.  He pointed out ways I could escape from holds and score a pin.  I used these techniques against him during our match, and he did not seem to mind.

 As the match progressed though, it was every man for himself; but we both were careful not to injure the other.  Our encounter was about achieving control over your opponent, coming up with escapes and tiring the other man into a submission.  We didn’t have any tap outs.  There was no need.  The man on top knew when he had scored a pin and let the other guy go.  Since we were about evenly matched at least on weight and age, we were often at a stalemate and just broke the hold to start over.  This was tiring but invigorating also.  It was lots of fun, good exercise, learned some new tactics, and I met a really nice guy.

Everything considered, I was satisfied with my performance.  But MatureJOfan is a wrestling champ of many years ago and has stayed in very good shape. MatureJOfan was finally able to put me in his master signature namesake hold.  If you are tired, there is little chance of escape.  I succumbed first, which makes MatureJOfan the winner; although strangely, I felt victorious also.  We both sustained minor injuries; further proof perhaps that we had a good “mano a mano” struggle.  Besides learning more wrestling holds and escapes; I have to improve my cardio to better outlast opponents.

He knew that Davey could be rough. They had wrestled before and though basically he had always enjoyed the bouts, there had been moments when he really feared that Davey would completely finish him off. Davey was big. And he trained hard, simply to wrestle. One time he had lifted Andy off the mat and racked him until Andy could no longer even beg. Then he had dumped him via a devastating drop back breaker over the knee. Andy had been unable to breathe for what seemed like several minutes, but was probably only thirty seconds. Davey had simply stood over him with a light smile on his face, and when Andy had hauled himself up Davey had leaped on him and wrenched him into an excruciating camel that had Andy wondering whether it would be his back or his neck which would break first.
Davey was always a mean sadistic wrestler, and he had the muscle to completely control his opponent if he decided to. This time he looked serious. He also looked pumped in his dark blue speedos, and Andy noted the heavy swing of those massive thighs as Davey strode onto the mats. Davey looked bigger in the back and those triceps were as thick as ever. Andy could feel that strange leap in the pit of his stomach. Or was it lower. Andy knew that he was very resilient and could absorb punishment from just about any wrestler. He was fit and flexible too. He liked pain.....well, up to a point. But bouts with Davey were always unpredictable. Davey had certain holds that he always inflicted with ruthless concentration and seeming disregard for his opponents suffering. But quite often there would be something new too. Andy remembered ruefully when Davey had started adding the Sleeper hold to his wide vocabulary of submission moves. He had been gentle at first, but gradually had become wickedly efficient at clipping the hold on, with that big, hard-muscled arm sinuously snaked around Andy's neck, and then the other arm slipping down from the crown of Andy's head into the nape of his neck to clamp the hold on without mercy. Each time Andy thought he was dying as the pressure from Davey's hardening bicep bore into the side of his neck and he would quickly lose the sense of where he was, then peripheral vision would go and finally he would feel himself falling into blackness. Davey would let go a little of the pressure at that point just in order to apply it again. Death a thousand times. Anyway, that was some time back. There had been others. The Twister...Davey had been delighted with the way that stretched and arched his victim ....resulting in a neck crank, arm lock which ripped the chest muscles, a spinal twist that felt like you were being pulled apart, and with those powerful legs grapevining one of Andy's thighs generally it felt like Andy was trapped by some kind of alien muscle monster. Then Davey would gently stroke Andy's tautly stretched chest and abs and ask with a grin 'you wanna give yet?'. There was always an extra little bit of pressure added just before any hold was released. It was a hallmark of Davey's style, as if he was saying...'I could make it worse you know, but I won't, but remember this....'.
Anyhow here they were again. Andy closed in on Davey, who was difficult to read always at these opening moments. As Andy lifted his hands towards Davey's neck and left arm, with a rapid blur of movement Davey encircled Andy's neck in an iron hard grip and threw him from his hip, tossing Andy easily to the mat and hanging onto him so that Andy landed hard with Davey's 14+ stone on him, still held in a side headlock. Fuck. Fuck. Davey was so fucking strong. He was a bastard. He was a mean-son-of-a-bitch. Still holding Andy firmly in the side headlock, Davey grabbed Andy's free arm and thrust Andy's wrist into the waiting crooked knee, so that Andy's arm was at ninety degrees with the elbow being levered up under Davey's thick thigh thereby also cranking his shoulder. This was a hold-down move which Andy of course knew, but he could not resist the momentum of it. Davey was too strong. Davey's weight across his chest kept him firmly pinned whilst the bastard started working his shoulder and arm. To make matters worse Davey hauled on the headlock, pulling Andy's head towards him and doubling the effect of weight. Leverage. Simple really. Davey was an expert at leverage. Andy groaned and said 'no, never!' When Davey told him to quit. Davey shifted yet more weight onto Andy and started to crank on the holds. Andy's shoulder was already screaming with the torque being applied. But Davey, ever the sadist, took it just to the point which Andy could endure and then kept it there, pulsing the pressure a little. Andy took it as long as he could but it was too much within about forty seconds. He tapped on Davey's broadly muscled back. Nothing. Davey was not looking at him and did not respond. Well, he was looking at him, but just did not seem to register Andy's face at all or his tapping. 'Ok' Andy said, ' you got me, I submit.' Davey then focussed on Andy's face and said 'oh no lad, you have a long way to go yet before I let you out of this'. Oh shit. He's in one of those moods.
Davey kept Andy in this shoulder busting hold for maybe another whole minute whilst Andy yelled, moaned, cursed, and alternated between tapping and punching Davey's back. He soon gave up any punching as that was met with vicious pressure crudely applied to his already torn shoulder. Suddenly, Davey mounted Andy chest to chest, and Andy felt those awesome legs grapevine his own putting unbearable pressure on his trapped legs and knees. Jeez. Andy knew how heavy Davey was, but always forgot the reality of just how heavy he felt when it was all on top of him. Davey promptly enclosed the whole of Andy's neck and head in his arms, with his chest flexing in a way that did things to Andy which he could not control. Davey was smothering him and clearly enjoying doing it. Andy struggled and thrashed under the heavily muscled man. He could not breathe and every movement he made seemed to result in Davey being clamped more tightly on him. Andy bucked and writhed but it was useless. He started to plead for release. As usual he felt a rush of unbelievable electricity run through him at being forcibly subdued by this muscled brute, and also fear that he might actually be going beyond what he could endure.
The bout progressed. It was totally one sided. Andy felt exhausted. Davey had been inventively unremittingly plain mean. He had scissored Andy and had turned up the pressure long after Andy submitted, until Andy thought his entire rib cage would implode. Andy's ribs were sore after that....we would remember the sheer hardness of those hairy monsters which looked mountainously huge when he had been trapped in them. Then he had turned his legs over to work Andy's neck. He had pumped them until Andy had gone woozy and virtually passed out.
Now, this was the worst moment. Davey seemed to tower over him, his muscles glistening and swollen as he had Andy's ankles trapped firmly under his armpits. Only Andy's head and part of his shoulders was in touch with the mat. He was struggling violently, twisting his body up and from side to side. He tried to snatch hold of Davey's ankles, but it was useless. Fuck....Andy knew he must avoid being forced over onto his belly at all costs, but Davey already had one knee pushed hard into the small of Andy's back, starting to arch him mercilessly. Andy knew that Davey was playing with him. With the power of those legs and his torso Davey could flip him over whenever he wanted. Davey was nearly lifting him up entirely. 'Yeah.....you are gonna take it now boy...the most punishing hold ever devised in wrestling.....I am gonna ride you in my Crab, fucker.' Andy yelled defiantly, but he knew the inevitable would happen. This hold was Davey's absolute speciality. He always seemed to be able to manoeuvre an opponent into this, and when he did he would turn into a wicked pain machine, doling out spine breaking agony with ease. With a hideous surge, Andy was forced over onto his belly. Davey held him high, arched between Davey's wide stance. Andy could feel Davey tightening the grip on his legs and Davey's palms made contact with Andy's inner thighs, forcing them to spread wide. Slowly Davey sat into the saddle created by the bent lumbar zone of Andy's already-tortured back. He settled some of his weight onto Andy, which felt amazing to Andy....how could those muscled globes of Davey's ass be so hard? Davey tilted his hips into the hold and Andy yelled his immediate submission. But he knew there would be no release. Davey was never satisfied with just a simple submission from this hold.
It took twenty minutes before a totally wrecked Andy was allowed to escape from under an exultant Davey. Those who doubt the power of this hold, should try it. But take care, friend. It is the most feared hold in all promission for a good reason.

Ifonly: I end up entering the ring first...I'm loving this...the crowd roars as my name is called...I stop for a moment at the start of the path to the ring and soak it all in before I run up to the ring at full speed and jump through the rope and roll onto the Matt and then onto my feet...the crowd love it.

No Rules Brad: As my name gets called I come running into the arena... highfiving outstretched hands of the aisle and winking at the crowd.. I run up the stairs on the corner and climb the turnbuckle gesturing the crowd to cheer and they do.. I get down, adjusting my tight white boxers and look you up and down.

Ifonly: I see your tight white boxers and I think that they won't be the same colour when I'm done.I look at you up and down and have a little sigh...I then look towards a few firends in the crowd with wry smile and then launch my fists forward, punching you square in the jaw...I do this four times before I step back and run at you, I charge into your gut and you go flying....giving me the time I need to straddle you MMA style.

No Rules Brad::I see you sizing me up.. Unprepared for the quick start your fists slam me hard and daze me! I stagger for a bit but you charge me and I fall to the mat, getting straddled! I yell out and struggle, trying to break free as the crowd goes wild at the fast start!

Ifonly: I start to work on your chest...I'm using what my brother from another mother taught me and transfer as much of my weight as I can to your gut...making it hard for you to fight back...I punch again and again. All the while think of the next move and wonder how far I could punish you.
No Rules Brad: You keep wailing on my chest! I grit my teeth and try to break free but you are firm on my soft gut! I grunt with each punch as I stare up at you smiling sadistically "fuck you man!" I yell at you

Ifonly You wish" I yell...I'm still straddle on you when I motion for the mc to pass me the microphone...My voice blares out "hey everyone...he said fuck you...can you believe that." Those on my side...of which there are many because you are in my home town bitch, cheer and laugh. I then lean into your face and look you square in the eye "like you stand a fucking chance" I then swing the microphone at your head and throw it back to the MC. The leads to a huge cheer...the first of many

No Rules Brad:  You taunt me in front of the crows.. garnering laughter from most of the crowd as you show your dominance.. you strike me with the microphone and I'm left dazed as the crowd cheer for you yet again! "Oh fuck" I mumble to myself

Ifonly : I punch you a few more times...I note that the microphone caught a bit of your face and open your skin just slightly. I get off you and pull you up to your feet before I slam you face first into the mat and then pick you up...four times

No Rules Brad: You yank me up and I try to fight back but you have already slammed me face first into the mat! Then yanked up by my hair and slammed again.. you keep doing in until my nose bursts with blood!! You hold me tight by my hair as I cup my nose that is dripping with blood
Ifonly: I laugh...I'm tempted to forgo all the technical stuff and just punish you...I stand you up again and I look at your face...I smile and then place my hand behind your hair and hold your hair while I charge you head first into the corner of the ring...I then let you and you spring back...landing on your back

No Rules Brad:: I feel your grip on my hair again.. you rush me to the ring and let go, my body slams into it and my face smashes off of the turnbuckle.. my body bounces and I fall on my back.. staring up at the lights I can hear the crowd going wild.. I roll on my front and see your feet.. I grab your legs and try to pull myself up

Ifonly: I kick you in the chest for daring to even touch my feet and I yell out bitch at you...I then stomp you so many times I lost count...all along...you are trying in vain to stop me with your hands. I stomp down one more time because it feels so good. I then take a step back and enjoy the sight of your slowly rolling around gripping your chest in pain...blood is still pouring from your face and is going down to your chest...I wonder where I should attack next

No Rules Brad:: I can't resist as you start to stomp me over and over again!! My body bounces with each stomp as blood spatters on the mat and across my chest. You stop and I lay on my side holding my chest trying to breathe.. I see blood has even spattered on your leg and foot that did the stomping

Ifonly: Anyone with a heart would have called a stop there...but I don't have a heart. I see the blood on my leg and sigh...oh dear...you got it on my boots as well...they're new you know. I let myself out of the ring to pick up something from my friend in the front of the crowd...I hide it behind my back and watch from outside of the ring as you slowly roll around...I go up on to the turn buckle and crouch...while sticking a collar and chain into my trunks for the journey...when the timing is right...I launch...heading right for you

No Rules Brad:: I see you leave and plan to recover.. I try to get up but stumble back down falling on my chest...rolling again.. next thing I see you are on the turnbuckle adjusting your brief. Then you fly.. I can't even comprehend moving and your body slams into mine... your body splashes and winds me.. I lay on my back trying to catch my breathe "please.. please" I manage to say

Ifonly: I repeat this three times...each time the pain gets more and more instece and your eyes get heavier and heavier...it's one of the most fun things for me. I land so I can quickly pin you down by raising your leg...the bell rings are three for the techinal win...of course...life begins when the last bell is rang. They arena erupts is joy I attach the collar and chain to your neck and I then kick your side in a moniton for you to get up...I'm given the mic and I say..."look everyone...I've got a new pet." Much laughter is had...I then walk you...rather I pick you up and force you onto all fours..."I'm going to have fun with this little bitch now"

No Rules Brad:: You keep slamming me over and over and I can barely even see... all I know is you are enjoying it... you hook my leg up and I don't even consider struggling..the bell rings.. it's over.. Then I feel something around my neck. You kick my side and I go to all fours.. you speak to the crowd and I realise what is happening.. the crowd laugh and cheer, even my fans as you humiliate me, forced to walk on all fours

Ifonly: I lead you over to the other end of the ring and I lift you so you are sat down on the floor with your back propped against the turn buckle...I then ask for one of my best fiends to come to the ring and hold the chain from the outside...pulling your body up and making the collar...reduce but not cut off your oxygen supply...they fucking love it..I then ask the crowd..."this is the moment I take requests...did any one bring any toys with them." Loads of cheers happen and I have a look around before I take a wooden baseball bat with barb wires from one guy who I give a kiss too...just to play with the audience you all cheer again...I also take a strip light...the kind you find in offices and a laptop that no longer works...I then return to the ring with these new toys...I lay them out in front of you...all while you are still being held back by the chair and collar

No Rules Brad:: You walk me around and humiliate me further.. propped against the turnbuckle your friend yanks the chain.. I can barely breathe but I watch as you bekon the crowd,, you get a bat and a strip light, placing them infront of me with a grin.. I try to struggle but your friend yanks the chain and I am choked and stopped...

Ifonly: I then call for another friend to come and he's got rope...he ties your hands behind the turnbuckle and then I position you so you are on your knees and your heels are tied together. I then take the strip light first and I hit your chest with it...the whole thing shatteres and shards of glass are go every where...with some of the shards embedding themselves into your chest...a few of them start to draw blood which trickles down and stains those nice white trunks you have.
I then take the barbed wire bat and hit you again and again...the wire sticking into you each time and causing intense pain as I pull it away All while this is happening...the chain is being pulled
No Rules Brad:: Tied around the corner I can't move at all.. you pick up the light and I close my eyes. It smashes against my chest and shatters! I feel bits stick into my chest and blood starts to pour down my chest and gut, seeping into my boxers.. I pant in agony and then you pick up the bat "no! Please!" I am cut off as the chain is tanked tighter and I choke, you smash my body over and over again with the bat, as you pull it away
it tears at my skin.. more blood dripping and pouring.. I look down exhausted.. I notice my boxers are completely red and soaked ...

Ifonly: I hit you again and again...drawing more and more blood...the blood splatters everywhere and even over me...I then ram my boot into your chest...holding on to the rope...on the third stomp...I'm sure I heard something crack in your chest and you call out in pain...I stop and feel your torso...I check around the ribs and I've found that that blow broke a few of them...I think I can see tears down seeping out of your eyes..."do you want your mummy?" I ask

No Rules Brad:: In agony as the bat ruins me... then your thick boot stomps my chest! Then again.. then CRACK! "Ooooohhh fuck!" I wail in pain! You kneel down and poke at my ribs, I wince in pain, I'm crying even though I didn't realise.. you taunt me and I don't say anything as I'm choking on the collar and crying... I can't even look at you...

Ifonly: "My friends...this poor little bitch is crying." I sat into the mic while kneeling down. I feel down your chest and up your face...veining symphony. "I just wonder..." I say punching you in the face "shall we play a game?"

No Rules Brad:: You slam your fist into my face and my head jerks back hard.. you ask whether we should play a game and the crown chants YES YES YES! Over and over again as I shake my head, tears dripping down my face

Ifonly: "Of course you all want to play the game" and they cheer "but does little Brad want to play the game?" I ask delivering another punch to the head...a little more blood come out of your nose...I then pick up a shard of glass and I poke it into your left cheek...drawing blood as I drag it down..."do you want to play my game Brad?" I ask again

No Rules Brad:: You punch me again and my nose starts bleeding again.. my chain gets yanked! "Yes I will play!" I shout as you jab the shard in my cheek!

Ifonly: "Good boy" I say as I stand up..."I've a question for you...what is the name of your partner?...the one you love the most...we're going to play with them too"

No Rules Brad:: "Max?" I say as a question but give it away...you strut around grinning.. the crowd are loving every second of it..

Ifonly: "What a lovely name." I say and the crowd awws "Brad and Max...isn't that cute...it's just like my bf...we're Tom and Jon" "Now you may be worried as to why i asked you this question. Don't worry max is safe...I'm not going to lay a finger on him...

No Rules Brad:: "Thank you" I say in relief, crying again...leaning on the post battered and bloody..

Ifonly: "In fact...he's been helping me" I then raise my voice a little "Max...you there" the lights adjust and the massive screen held up on the wall in front of you slowly fires into life.
No Rules Brad:: I listen to your words but I barely hear them.. the screen flashes up bright blinding me as the crowd cheers loudly...

Ifonly:  Max is there...watching...he's in some unknown location...the face he pulls as his motioner also flashes up...the first thing he sees is you...tied up...blood pouring out of your face and every cut while tied up in the corner of the ring."How are you doing, Max?" I ask with the same voice a waiter or shop assistant would use...that sort of customer service face.

No Rules Brad:: The screen flashes up being and I'm temporarily blinded... my body battered and face bloodied as you stand looking smug.. then I see Max.. I blink and try to adjust my vision to make out the expression on his face..

Ifonly: I was good to my word and I didn't lay a finger on him. Max watches with pure horror. "Hi Max." I say, punching you in the face. "How are you today. Me and Brad have been getting on so well...oh wait, you can't see him from there, let me help." I untie you and drag you by the hair to middle off the ring, where you collapse on your knees. yt

No Rules Brad:: I see max looking in shock and confusion as you talk.. dazed as I watch the screen you grab me tight by the hair and yank me up.. you pull me to the centre and I fall to my knees! I hear max mutter oh my god.. I try to get upright as I feel you standing behind me..

Ifonly: I stand behind you and stand over your beaten body...taking in the roar of the croud...I pull you up by your hair with your knees still on the ground. I hold you close to my body, your head leaning agaisnt the budlge in my trunks. "ladies and gentleman" I say "sadly Max has the misfortune of choose someone who could barley stand up too little old me." the crowd laugh as I then stand you up, place one hand on your crotch and the other on the front of your neck, I then lift you far above my head with my arms stretched all the way...I gesture for the mic to be passed to me "look Max...I can feel how hard Brad is...i bet you didn't know he'd loved this."

No Rules Brad:: My hair tangled in your fingers as you hold me against your bulge.. I try to pull away but you yank me up and haul me above your head.. in your grasp grunting as you cup my balls! You taunt Max and he covers his mouth in horror "why?" He manages to get out as I dangle at your mercy..

Ifonly: "Because it's fun." I reply...I carry you around the ring for a while before spinning you around and throwing you directly up. I move out of the way and you land with huge crash the reverbates around the arena. The crowd are on their feet. I repeat the process of picking you up but this time I rest you on my shoulders and I put you into a back breaker

No Rules Brad:: You throw me up! I feel the air flash past me as I fall to the ground. I slam hard and cough up blood as I clutch at my back! "Please stop!" Max cries out as you scoop me up and put me in a back breaker! I yell as I bend over your back, gritting my teeth!
 No Rules Brad:: "Please stop it!" He shouts again looking as though he is trying to come through the screen.. but he can't.. is he tied up or? I can't tell as you bend me further

Ifonly: "Of course when I said I hadn't laid a finger on Max, I was telling the truth" I said though the microphone..."but to get him to co-operate, I did have to ask one my people to extend a hand of friendship...say hello Jack" another figure pops his head on screen and waves, quite happy to be there, in a sort of hi mom look at me kind of way. I swing you around so you can see the screen..."now I've not introduced you all to Jack yet...he's a good friend of mine, we known each other for quite a while...how long has it been Jack" I say as I pull your legs and neck further down, as if I'm trying to snap you in half. "About ten years now" this lets of a few cheers from the crowd.
"I would have introduced you to Jack sooner, but he's awfully shy." A few awws from the audience, and you can that the jack fan club is already starting. "Now you will all notice that Jack here, has tied up Max to the chair...this is so we can all play a game. I then let you go and you fall to the mat.

No Rules Brad:: You introduce jack who has a sadistic smile on his face.. the same one that you have had through most of this ordeal. The crowd watches intently on the edge of their seats as you drop me to the mat... I breathe a sigh of relief as the pain subsides... but look at the screen.. jack adjusts the camera so max is in full view, tied to a chair.. "max" I mumble and he starts calling for help.. Jack grabs his hair and yanks his head back "ain't nobody helping you here pretty boy" he spits and the crowd loses it... I get on all fours trying to stand as to walk around the ring beckoning your fans!

Ifonly: "Pretty boy he is" I start to rally up the crowd packing around the ring..."now about that game I mentioned" as I walk past you I kick you in the face. "I need someone to practice one, I've noticed that since doing all this pro-wrestling, I seem to have forgotten my roots from submission wrestling, so you Brad, are going to help me...the rules are simple...I will practice my moves on you, and if you tap the mat, my friend jack will...apply those taps, to Max, very quickly, in the form of a fist. So if I was to put a hold on you now and you tap the mat three times, three lovely taps shall be provided for our good friend Max...does that make sense Brad?"

No Rules Brad:: I reel from your kick and hold my jaw.. I stumble back up to my feet...listen to your sick game and look up to max "you are gonna be okay" I promise without believing it myself.. I nod at you and as you walk towards me with a smile I say. "You are a twisted fuck.." the crowd ooohhs as I push at your chest weakly... I see you practically laugh it off.. yt

Ifonly: "oh do that again. It felt so good." I say at your pittful attempt at fighting back..."Right my first move..." I push you back with two hands and you fall to the floor...I then roll you onto your front, with you trying, but me barly noticing the resistance you are putting up...I crouch down and lift your arms so they are resting on my knee...I then grab your chin and lean back so I'm just resting on the small of your back. I then pull more and more untill I find your point of maximum tolerance and I let off, just a little, still applying the hold. "I like this one."

No Rules Brad:: I yell out in agony as you pull my head back! I clench my fists as you keep pulling harder until I cannot be pulled any further back.. then you release a small amount.. I pant and drop with sweat as you hold me firmly and crank it again.. I pull my arm out and hover it over the mat.. I hesitate... then you crank it up harder and harder until the noises I make are no longer human.. I slam my hand down on the mat 1,2,3 times! The crowd going wild..

Ifonly: I let go..."I got that one right. Go me." I then pick you up by the air and make you face the screen..."jack, that was three taps, if you'd please." Y

No Rules Brad:: You pull me up by my hair and hold me facing the screen.. I try to look away but you tighten your grip on my hair and shake my head forcing me to look on! I look at the screen and he smiles as us and the crowd.. he grabs Max's shirt and tears it open revealing his slim smooth body! He starts to beg and I jerk forward only to be pulled back by your tight grasp..Jack flexes his arm for the crowd and they cheer, only for his fist to disappear into Max's gut! Max lurches forward but his head is yanked back by his hair.. jack holds him "that's one.." he then smashes a fist into his nose! "Two" he says blowing his knuckles and smashing his nose again!

Ifonly: I smile as Max's shirt gets ripped open..."yummy." I say out loud...You wince as at the first two blows hit max and I grip you even tighter as the last one lands in his gut again. "what a wonderful sight" I say. My next move is simple, I stand you up and crouch a little, wrapping my arms around your waist and lifting you up in a bear hug...squeezing you harder and harder...Not a normal submission hold but one i enjoy non-the less

No Rules Brad:: You get me in a bear hug as you hold me tight! I groan as I try to pull your arms away but I can't! "MAX! I'm sorry!" I yell as you flail me around in your grasp.. I pant and push at you... sweat drips off of me as my body breaks in your grip! I can't take it...
I tap on your arm over and over and stop suddenly without realising how many I had done.. I see your grin almost reach your ears...

Ifonly: I let go of you and you fall to the floor..."I nearly lost count there, I think there were six, hold on a second every one." I knell down at your body and you are holding your gut, I sit on top of you so your face would be buried in my ass and I hold your arms down with my leg..."let's see here, now if I was tapping loads of times, how would I tap" I then slap your abs ten times, tap tap tap tap, working out how many taps you would have done. "I think it was ten now I come to think about it" I stand up and kick you a few times in that gut as well. "Jack it was 10"

No Rules Brad:: You sit on my face and humiliate me.. slapping my abs and getting up swiftly.. "no.." I start to say getting on all fours.. you boot my gut.. I grab your legs trying to pull myself up but you boot me again.. I go back.. staring at the screen.. Jack laughs as max begs further! The smashes a fist into his face.. then another and another.. then a fist deep in his gut.. max spits up blood and takes another fist to his gut.. only halfway through

Ifonly: Jack then returns to the face for the final four blows, using what's left of Max's shirt to move him around. "That's ten, Tom" he says. "His pretty face is holding up quite well, perhaps he should be here instead" After I kick you away, I once again get being you and before your know it, my arms are under yours and my hands have clamped together to put you into a nelson hold

No Rules Brad:: The hardest hold to resist I'm instantly in agony! "Please man! Let it end. I will do anything!" I beg as you ruin me! I yell and cry and do anything I can, trying to struggle.. but I can't... I go to tap.. just 3 times... panting as sweat and blood drips from my face and body onto the mat...
"God please.." I mumble to myself..

Ifonly: I don't let go as you beg, I just grip a little more, turning it up. Loving the tears coming out of your eyes, to almost vacant look on Max's face and blood flows out of his nose and down his exposed chest. "Jack that was three times." I call out. I angle you so you can see jack punch max once in the face, once in the gut to wind him and then once down below, just out of frame, to make his wince and cough up some more blood as his face crunches in pain. Y

No Rules Brad:: I watch in terror as jack continues to punch the shit out of max! The punch bellow the screen makes max cry out loudly and his head droops.. blood just dripping onto his chest and lap.. I just look on in pain..

Ifonly: I kick you in the small of your back with my knee and you fall to the floor, "jack...would you wake up Max for us." Jack taps his face and his head comes up."Now there is one simple way to end this Brad...say out lout to us, that you submit...and say it like this...I submit to you sir. I hold up your head and have you face the screen.

No Rules Brad:: You hold me up as you hold my head and max wakes up.. desperate for the pain to end.. to save max.. no matter what it takes.. "yes sir!" I yell loudly.. "I submit to you sir!" I say even louder so the whole crowd can hear... some of them laughing at my shame..

Ifonly: "Good boy" I say "Jack, thank you, you can go now" he waves bye to the camera but not before showing off the blood on his fist "Now you're my pet" I say. "Get on your knees and bark for me boy." I grab that collar from before and place it back on you, "now bark boy"

No Rules Brad:: I get on all fours.. "yes sir" I say as you put the collar on me.. I start making barking noises and the crowd laughs and cheers.. you yank the chain and I bark more and louder for you.. getting walked around the ring like a dog...

No Rules Brad:: The crowd are loving it as I am humiliated and shamed like a bitch..

Ifonly: "Whose a good boy?" I say and you bark in return. I can only guess what is going through Max's mind as he watches this. I rip off your bloodied boxers and then come around your front and I take my dick out and order you to open wide, this is also the first chance I've had to examine the damage...I see your left eye is back and tie face is covered in open wounds, your nose appears to have been broken and blood that was pouring out has dried a little, your lips are swollen as well. You start to suck my cock and as I force right down the back of your throat, you choke a little. The audience laugh at you "can't you take it all" I say "is it too big for you?"

No Rules Brad:: You humiliate me further by stripping me naked, my 6" cock swings freely as you pull yours out and force it in my mouth, I suck it slowly until you force it down my neck and make me choke! I can't answer as you fuck my throat!

Ifonly: My 6" goes all the way down and you are pressed right against my sweaty body. You continue sucking me for a few minuets and I show offer. Posing around. I then pull my cock out of your mouth and wave at max...I then order you to turn around and I start to fuck you. Paying no attention to weather your uncomfortable or not...just take you as my price

No Rules Brad:: You keep fucking my mouth and eventually pull out.. I pant and cough trying to catch my breath as you force me to turn around... I do so and your cock forces its way inside of me! You start pounding me from behind and I let out grunts and cries as max watches in shock.. getting fucked as the crowd laughs and takes photos ..

Ifonly: I fuck you harder and harder, pulling up on the lead which pulls your neck up. I pound more and more...going further and further. And getting off to sounds of you crying in pain. I then force my cock in as far as it would go. You yelp out..."you sounded just like a dog. One of those little pathetic ones) and I lift you up...while I'm still in you and I place your body over the ropes so I'm now looking at Max. You've given up trying to resist.
No Rules Brad:: Still getting fucked silly as you pull on the lead and make me whimper like a bitch... you drape me over the rope as you fuck me senseless and stare at max.. I look up at him and he looks crushed... but I can barely see straight anymore as your cock fucks me out of my mind

Ifonly: I continue fucking you and I end up cumming in your ass. I groan with pleasure and the crowd roars. I then pull out and use your boxers to clean my self, before I pull you off the ropes and throw you on the floor, your almost out of it, so I come and lay down behind you so I can apply a sleeper hold via a headlock, I squess just enough to control you, I then reach around and start to jack you off

No Rules Brad:: You slam me and paint my insides white! You throw me down and start choking me whilst jacking off my hard cock! "Oh fuck" I mumble as you pump me hard! I'm about to blow!

Ifonly: I feel your cock explode as cum goes all over the mat and up your chest. Just as your cumming I squeeze hard enough to send you out, the last feeling you have is your orgasm before you fade off...I hold the choke a little longer then I should, making sure that you are completely out. I pull my arm away and stand up, I survey the pool of blood and cum that I've left you in while the audience is cheering...I then feel your neck for a pulse as you lay on your side before kicking you over so your on your back with your legs facing Max. I put my trunks back on and I throw yours on your face. I walk off to thunderous applause and cheering

No Rules Brad:: I lay flat on my back as I come to.. boxers on my face as you walk away and the crowd goes mad.. covered in blood bruises and cum... I get up and drip cum everywhere as I stagger away myself..the crowd laughing at me as I leave.. max not even looking at my beaten fucked useless body...

Wrestling has been a love of mine for a long time and recently I have come to rely on my hobby a lot more than usual.

Someone close to me is very unwell, and the situation is not improving sadly. At an already poor time of year, as I lost my father in July some years ago, I find myself yearning to wrestle. During the day I barely seem to function; not concentrating on work or friends/family but thinking of wrestling. A constant companion.

Is it a desire to escape? Is it the one place where I can leave the troubles of my current life away? And simply grapple with someone, and not think about anything else, other than a desire to stay awake and fight back.

Apparently an iron sea is a term when someone is facing an uncertain future and feels powerless to surface. At this time there has never been a better way to describe how I'm feeling and I am grateful for everyone, family, friends and Wrestlers who are helping me with my ascent.