Part 1
A few months had passed since Spenser Locke had joined up with Jake “The Alpha Wolf” in one of the most vicious tag teams on the erotic pro wretling circuit. Since then, Jake had been invited to Japan for a two-month long stint. Jake, who enjoyed conquering and dominating his jobbers, drooled at the thought of going international, though it meant leaving his beta pup alone for a little while.
Somewhere in a hotel room in Toronto, Spenser champed at the bit as he watched his master on the television, making it Big in Japan. Joined by the Samurai of Sexy from the “Muscle Tribe” heel stable, Jake dominated his opponent, a younger, Japanese no-name in black training trunks. The buff and bearded, ponytail sporting samurai signaled his signature move to the audience, tearing off his speedos and revealing a pink fundoshi, an old Japanese take on a thong. Spenser laughed, and was equally turned on, to see his older partner do the same. The Japanese leagues always had an affinity for raunchy, high-flying, campy antics. The Alpha wolf yanked his young opponent’s speedo into an atomic wedgie, hoisting up and shoving his head face first into the Samurai’s bulging pouch. The Samurai made an orgasmic expression, as Jake and the samurai worked together to invert the no-name for a killer piledriving move that the Samurai called “the wet rose”. Spenser assumed the name was an example of lost-in-translation Japanese. But in the Japanese gay muscle circle, bara, meant rose, and muscular gay gays were sometimes claled the Rose Tribe. This is how the Japanese heel table took their name.
Jake and the tanned, muscular Samurai drove their opponent’s head straight into the mat. Jake would later tell Spenser, with glee, that the Samurai had a particular fetish for driving his opponents that allowed him to get away with an obscene move, out of view of the conservative sensors. What the audience couldn’t see was the opponent’s face being shoved right into the Samurai's thick, uncut cock and balls. As their skull collided with the mat, creating just the right amount of friction inside the fundoshi, the Samurai would let loose and shoot off a load all over his unconscious opponent’s face. Which is why the cameras always cut away as the Samurai, blushing, removed his opponent’s head from his fundoshi.
Spenser jacked to this information, relayed over a phone call with the Alpha Wolf after the match.
“I miss my pup,” the Alpha, only sentimental with his younger protege, said after his release. “I feel like I should throw you a new chew toy, keep you tide over until I get back from Japan. Anything dirty you have in mind?”
It just so happened that Spenser recalled one of the matches The Alpha had subjected him during his heel re-programming, match where two beefy cowboys absolutely destroyed and humiliated the opponent. Truthfully, Spenser had been quite taken with the younger of the tag duo, 25-year-old Cornfed Boy Billy. Billy was a thick, spark plug of a guy, with a country boy face, cute but mischievous smile, and a pasty white complexion. He was thick in every sense of the word, and his ass was infamous in the world of erotic wrestling.
But Spenser knew his depth, and wasn’t experienced enough to go up against a team of muscle headed cowboys like that. So Jake “the Alpha” devised an ingenious and sadistic plan.
At the training arena, Spenser introduced himself to an up-and-comer named Danny “the dynamo” DiGregorio, an Italian-Mexican babyface who perfectly captured the look of the jobbers from the late 1980s. A dark-haired, boyish jobber with a soft cuteness to him, Spenser relished the idea of tearing into him. But he had a better idea instead. He introduced himself as a potential tag partner, and the Dynamo, ever friendly, eagerly warmed to the idea. Spenser even trained him a little, getting him excited for the match.
“Who are we going to be facing?” Danny asked Spenser after a sweaty training session.
Spenser played dumb and then said, “I think they’re called the Boyscouts? Just a few skinny twinks.”
Danny flexed his muscles and did his signature pose for Spenser. “Then we’ll absolutely crush them!”
What a chump, Spenser thought. But he still wanted to have a little fun with his opponent. He told Danny they would need to wear matching gear, and Spenser selected the skimpiest, pinkest, zebra print trunks from his collection. He watched in sadistic amusement as Danny tried on the skimpy pair of trunks, cupping his nice backside.
“These are...different,” the Dynamo said, turning a shade of red. “But anything to make you proud!”
“Sure thing,” Spenser said, wrapping his arm around his “new best friend.” “Anything for my partner!”
Part 2
That night was a packed house, and the matches that went down were intense and brutal, but nothing could have prepared the audience for the final match of the night.
Danny and Spenser came out to Spenser’s signature music. He had forced Danny to join him in a strip tease, in which they threw off their red velvet robes, gyrated for the audience, and then tore off their pants. Spenser’s fans at home loved watching the sexy stud shake his ass for the audience, and then bounce his hairy pecs for their enjoyment. In contrast, everyone could tell The Dynamo was less than dynamic. He was shy.
A rock and roll country song heralded the arrival of their two opponents. The Texan announcer was practically drooling during their introduction.
“These two big boys hail allll the way from down south. Hoo boy, these two little fellas in the ring aren’t going to know what hit them. All the way from the biggest, baddest, states, these two lone star studs are respected and feared in equal measure. At 270 pounds of pure Texas, beef, the cowboy king himself, Tyson the Texas Tiiiiger!”
The massive man that appeared from behind the arch set Spenser’s heart on fire, and made Danny the Dynamo gulp. He looked like the combination of wrestling Cowboy James Storm and porn star Trace Trainer. Bearded, beautiful, and bad, Tyson was ripped to the bone, with enormous, glistening pecs tucked between a cow-hide vest. He wore a pair of brown, leather chaps that looked glued to his tree trunks thighs, and the cow pattern speedo looked like it couldn’t contain what he was packing inside. His cowboy boots and hat completed the look, and it appeared they had been well-worn many times in the past. Slung across his shoulder was a a horse saddle, which he always found a way to use in the ring, much to the detriment of his opponents.
Behind him, on the screen, the Titantron showed his entrance video. Interspersed with wild horses and bulls being hog-tied by heroic cowboys, it was a bloodbath of Tyson scooping up and slamming, back breaking, and pile driving his opponents. Brutal, these clips were cut with closeups of his face. There was no hiding his handsomeness, even behind his giner-colored beard. His blue eyes sparkled, and his smile was legendary.
He was a “gentleman” heel, a rare breed. And he carried himself with a modest confidence, waving to the crowd as he strutted down the aisle, like a cowboy hero entering a saloon. When he jumped into the ring, he posed on the turnbuckle, offering his adoring crowd a double bicep flex. He held up his saddle as the crow popped, and gave Danny a hard, sly look before handing this saddle off to a ringside helper. Then, as he tore off his cowboy vest and tossed it, surprisingly, to Spenser
Spenser caught it with adoration, and gave it a sniff. Danny looked confused. “He’s just trying to intimidate us,” Spenser lied, as he barely concealed erection grew inside his trunks.
The cowboy strutted around the ring, and at the climax of his song, bent over. His rock-hard glutes, covered in cowprint, faced Danny. Tyson ripped off his leather trunks, letting his massive legs breathe at last.
Spenser and Danny both bit their lips, for different reasons.Guess everything really is bigger in texas, Spenser thought to himself.
The country song switched over to a more playful anthem, as the Texan ringside commentator announced Tyson’s tag partner.
“Entering the arena, at 190 pounds. This thick, badboy with a Sunday-school smile will make any jobber squeal like a piggy. And when he’s through with them, well, he’s going to introduce them to his biggest asset. The heartbrob who only drinks milk and eats beef, he’s the young bull himself, Cornfed Boy Billy!”
Spenser’s heart fluttered while his newest crush burst onto the scene. A red, cut-sleeve flannel could barely hide Billy’s big chest or his sexy, beefy stomach. He was the picture of a squat, football player build, and from the protrusion of his forest-green briefs, Spenser could tell he was packing a pair of bull balls inside those trunks. Though he was “all shucks on the outside,” Billy’s entrance video portrayed a different picture. Billy knew he was a thick boy and liked to throw his muscle-weight around, with slams and splashes knocking the wind off his opponents.
Danny couldn’t understand what was going on with the video, as some of it appeared to be censored between shots of close up of Billy’s opponents with their heads against the turnbuckle, looking horrified. These were intercut with shots lifted from rodeo accidents with bulls and stallions accidentally sitting down on cowboys. Danny couldn’t connect the shots together, but knew it meant nothing good.
When Billy got to the center of the ring, Tyson gave him a proud slap on the back as he tore off his flannel and threw it to the adoring crowd. Then, he turned around, revealing the biggest butt Danny had ever seen, with Billy’s speedo--emblazoned with “Cornfed”--swallowed up between the redneck wonder’s giant cheeks. Billy locked eyes with Danny, smiled, and then slapped his massive butt.
“These...these don’t look like boyscouts to me,” Danny whimpered.
Spenser shrugged. “We’ll still beat the pants off them.”
“I’m scared what might happen if their pants come off…”
The beel peeled, and Spenser started off first locking arms with Billy. The two went at it at a test of strength, smiling at each other as they locked eyes.
“You sure are purty,” Billy whispered to his struggling “opponent.”
“I’d like to see what that ass can do,” Spenser winked.
Billy laughed. “Aw shucks. Well, your little friend over there is gonna find out the hard way. You really want me to introduce him to Billy’s Big Bully?”
“Give him a taste of the Triple B,” Spenser said as he “allowed” Billy to put him in a headlock. Immediately he was drunk on his opponent’s odors. Danny was more in for a treat than anything.
The match continued, with Spenser holding his own, until Billy tagged in his partner, The Cowboy King. Evern Spenser was afraid of him, and after being thrown around the ropes a bit, reached for his partner’s hand.
“You can do it!” Spenser said with a fake smile. “I believe in you!”
Danny looked nauseous, but he tagged his partner and eagerly hopped inside the ring. Almost immediately, he was scooped up by the Cowboy King’s arms and delivered into a devastating backbreaker.
Spenser cringed as Danny shrieked. “That’s gotta hurt…” he said.
Danny was then racked and put on display for the audience to enjoy.
“This little pony need to be broken!” Tyson said in his southern twang. Spenser agreed, but pretended to look concerned.
Per their secret, pre-match agreement, Spenser jumped in “to save the day” with a drop kick that sent the cowboy reeling. Not really. Tyson knew he could snap the boy in two if he wanted to. But he played along, for the sake of it.
With the cowboy down, the hurt Dynamo was suddenly feeling a lot more confident. Spenser tagged him in and told him to do his finishing, Dynamic Dyamo move off the top ropes. Feeling confident, victorious, and on top of the world, Danny climbed up the turnbuck and struck a pose, ready to bring his weight down on the massive cowboy and claim victory!
That was, until, Spenser reached up and pulled down the back side of Danny’s speedo, revealing his butt to the world. The audience laughed, and before Danny could do anything, Spenser gave him a low blow.
“By gaw, what’s this!” The announcer said as Danny tumbled into the ring below. “What a wicked betrayal! That Spenser Locke has had it out for his tag partner this whole time! Oh no, we gotta get that poor kid out of the ring now!”
Danny grabbed his groin in pain, rolling around the ring like a beached fish gasping for air. Meanwhile, Billy jumped into the ring and pulled Danny up by his pretty hair. He threw the kid into the rope for an Irish Whip, and then smashed his face with a Clotheline. Danny, dizzy and disoriented, was unable to fend off the thick redneck. The Cornfed Kid threw Danny into the corner, turned around, flexed for Spenser, and then drove his giant ass into Danny’s chest, knocking the wind out of him.
That was it. Spenser immediately got rock hard, knowing what would come next. Danny Dynamo was about to find out why those clips from Billy’s entrance video were censored. In the corner, Tyson laughed, shook his head, and laughed. Come on, Cornfed boy! It’s dinner time for the Big Bully!
Playing innocent, the Cornfed Boy turned around and picked at his speedo. “Is it time?” he said to the eager crowd, who popped up in excitement.
The ringside announcer stammered. “Folks, if you have little ones watching, now may be the time to er….change the channel. We got paid off tonight by Mr. Z’s men so we are technically allowed to broadcast this, but I’ll be honest with you, it’s an absolute disgrace. I mean this move should be banned! It is impossibly grotesque, though I am told some in the audience with specific...erm...proclivities, get their rocks off of it. Well, in any case, I don’t think Danny Dynamo is going to be showing his face around the ring any time soon. That is, if he makes out of this alive! Because heeeere comes the Big Bully! Uh oh!”
Spenser almost felt bad, for once, as he watched his hapless opponent briefly glance over, giving him a look like, “I thought we were friends.” Spenser grinned and shrugged, as Tyson came over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, that sent Spenser’s heart soaring.
“Kid just had a mean workout session,” Tyson said, sucking on his teeth. “I feel realll sorry about what’s about to happen to your little friend.”
The Cornfed boy grinned, and turned his head slowly towards his unlucky victim in the turnbuckle. “Oh boy!” he said, slapping his giant ass cheeks, slowly and methodically pulling down his trunks, which could barely keep back the massive white muscle of his backside.
“N-n-no,” Danny sputtered, as the horror dawned on him. Spenser appeared behind him at the ringside, gave him a kiss on the cheeks, and forced his hands back so he couldn’t move, positioning his head for the finale.
Cornfed Boy slapped his cheeks and edged closer and closer to struggling Danny in the corner. “Time for the Big Bully to put his signature on another stupid face. GET READY!”
Up close, Danny had never seen something so anatomically massive before. It was almost obscene, how big and round and protruding Billy’s cheeks were. Billy let him look, one final bit of light before the darkness, before he brought all of that down and engulfed Danny Dynamo’s head straight up his butt.
As the audience went wild, Billy spread his cheeks, forcing Danny’s face into his hole. Acting dumb and innocent, Billy gyrated and backed his butt up against the turnbuckle, absolutely smothering Danny and driving him down into the mat. All anybody could see was Danny struggle against the girth, hands flailing and arms waving as he tried to push off the mass.
And only when Danny stopped, smothered and passed out, did the ref finally ring the bell.
“Awww,” Billy said in disappointment, as he took his Bully off Danny’s face. His eyes rolling in the back of his head, drooling on the canvas, Danny had passed out in the worst way possible, The Triple B had chewed him up and spat him out.
But Danny’s humiliation was far from over.
As Spenser strutted around the ring and flexed for Tyson, Billy and the Cornfed Boy presented Spenser with a cowboy hat. Spenser happily donned it, and planted a boot on his former opponent, waking him up. The three heels took each other’s hands and raised them high, and the ringside announcer declared victory. On the count of three, the victorious heels stripped off their speedos, giving an audience an eye-full of their massive cocks.
Tyson kneeled over and inspected the pathetic jobber, humiliated and destroyed. “Whew,” he said, waving his hand in front of his face. “You really left a scent on him, Billy boy!” Then, he massaged Danny’s traps and delivered a firm slap to the back of the jobber’s head, rudely awakening him to the mocking crowd.
Danny coughed and sputtered, reeling his face. “Why does it smell like I’ve just been in an orgy in a barn?” he said. Truthfully, Danny didn’t hate the masculine odor. It was obvious Billy had kept himself maintained and clean, aside from the natural scent of the gym.
“Shut up,” Tyson said, slamming Danny’s head into the mat. He motioned for Spenser, who, starry eyed, handed Tyson his horse saddle and a branding stick. The cowboy planted a firm boot on the boy’s back, and then with an ink-padded branding stick, stamped the pathetic jobber with a “Property of Tyson”. He then slammed the saddle on his back and pulled the jobber up into a painful camel clutch.
“I SUBMIT!” Danny sputtered, drool escaping his lips, as the bell went wild.
“Yee haw!” Billy said, as he waved his hat in the air and joined his partner, combing his weight, as they road Danny around the ring. The pure sadism, and the friction of their cowboy cocks rubbing against leather and muscle, caused the cowboys to spurt. Tyson, who hadn’t touched himself for a week, came hard, and his load ran all over Danny’s face as the jobber slipped into the mercy of unconsciousness due to the pain.
Breathless and sweaty, the cowboys let their drooling jobber drop to the mat and they flexed for their victory. Spenser, freely jacking off in the corner, watched them in admiration.
Then, smiling and strutting, Billy sauntered over to the side of the ring and planted a wet kiss on Spenser’s lips. He flicked Spenser’s pre-cum covered cock. “You need some help, cowboy?”
Spenser could barely articulate a word. “Y….yes…”
Billy knew how to finish him off. “Step inside the ring,” he said, jutting out his butt and spreading his cheeks. “Come give the Big Bully a kiss with your cock.”
Entranced, Spenser tembled in anticipation and slipped inside the ring. Security was already running down the aisle so this would have to be quick. But he knew he wouldn’t take long. As soon as he was swallowed up by Billy’s giant ass, it was all over.
“Yee haw!” Spenser cried out as he let load after load run down the Big Bully.
“That’s how I keep it big,” a sweaty Cornfed Boy said. “Some good ol’ protein.”
He cradled a delirious and drained Spenser against his chest. “Congrats, Spenser. You’re an honorary cowboy now.
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