Friday, August 5, 2011
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.