Message from John Carter

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Friday, August 5, 2011


A golden moment in a wrestling match is that moment where you catch your opponent flat footed and pull him over, exposing his body to the mats.  He struggles, helpless in your grasp, sweat pouring from him, as he works to break free.  But it is all in vain.  No matter how he struggles, he cannot break your grip and you hold him, immobile, in front of his friends and other wrestlers, for all to see.  A loser.  Your victim.  Your boy. 

I have been the recipient of those types of holds as much as the giver.  More than once in my life have I been placed in a hold, made helpless, and forced to endure the taunts and sarcasm of my opponent.  I like to win, but I also like to lose, and it is this type of hold that I find most appealing.  I like to be rendered incapable of moving and to have my cock worked over, as I sweat it out and try, try to escape.

One time, several years ago, I wrestle this guy who came to town once in a great while.  He worked for the airlines so he was in and out on occasion.  I wrestled him one night in his hotel room and found out what it was like to be beaten and humiliated.  He wasn't so much bigger than me, and he wasn't so much stronger.  We were both about the same size, but he knew a lot more about wrestling than I did at that time, and he easily worked me over onto my back where he ground his cock into mine, working the sweat into a foam of lubrication that brought me to the brink of orgasm over and over.  Each time he'd wait until I was so close, and then relax the pressure, wearing me down and sapping my strength.

Then he rolled around and trapped my body by laying across my chest at an angle, his back to my head.  I was wrestling him in the nude and he began to work the head of my cock in his hand.  I tried to bridge him off me, to roll to my side, but I was trapped, unable to escape from his remorseless fondling and rubbing of my exposed and hard cock.  Like the wrestler above, I was utterly trapped and presented to the crowd as his bitch, his boy.  Then he spit into his hand and really went to work.  I begged him to stop.  I struggled, and fought, but eventually the pressure was too much.  I came again and again, and he rolled off.  I was spent in every sense of the word, and then...his slave.   

1 comment:

  1. I've serched wrestling sites such s Globalfight for a long time, looking for a good heel into old fashioned pro wrestling who also loves to dominate and humilate his opponent, but no luck. He must be out there somewhere, but has proven to be very elusive.