BDSM - Beat, Dom and Shame Muscle

Ladies and Gentlemen! Prepare yourselves for our next bout, no time limit, victory by submission only. First up standing at 5”10 - 200 pounds of sexy muscle-you demanded his return, and tonight he’s back! Welcome Stacked Sky!

Stacked Sky:

Pushing back the curtain, the bright light hits my ripped body. My painted on singlet clings to me, no boots tonight, just pure agile muscle. I stop dead center. Let ‘em look. Just long enough to get the crowd hyped. I strut slow to the ring like I own the damn place. My meat swings with each step. Bitches in the front row practically drooling. Dudes Too. Don’t give a fuck. My body is a sculpted moving masterpiece, quads explode, flexing with every stride adding to my swagger. The fans are like crazed animals, howling like it's a WrestleMania.

I launch through those ropes like a missile. Stick the landing. Perfect. Flex for these thirsty bitches. "Who wants some?" I shout, pumping my arms. Crowd loses their shit. Blood's pumping hard now. I thrust my hips slow, giving 'em a preview of what I do to my opponents. Grind it like I'm balls deep in somebody's fantasy. Look at these pathetic fucks screaming. Already mine. Match ain't even started and I've conquered the whole damn arena.

Tyler Reign:

"And his opponent..." The announcer rings out, "...The STILL undefeated golden boy of wrestling himself! The one and only, TYLER REIGN!" The favoritism barely masked as my name reverberates around the arena to a batshit crowd of fans! The spotlight illuminates my cut, rock-hard body. I start strutting down the ramp wearing nothing but my orange wrestling trunks and black boots. Hands outstretched on either side of me, I let the people touch perfection, some of them screaming at the feeling of my hands high-fiving theirs.

I approach the edge of the ring, but instead of entering right away, I make my way to the right to greet the fans stationed there. Front row. Best view in the fucking house. A big group of my gym buddies. They love this shit. Watching me destroy some poor overconfident son of a bitch.

My fine-ass girlfriend. Just as always. There's nothing that gets her more excited than watching her man go out there and do what he does best. Fucking CONQUER. "Ready for the show, babe?" I say to her while she smiles bashfully. "Always!" She responds. I stand her up for a second and start making out with her right then and there. Spit swapping lips, my tongue down her throat. Fuck yea. Nothing gets my testosterone pumping harder. Our lips make a loud smack as they separate, and I gently sit her back down before diving underneath the bottom rope, sliding on my front before hopping up to my feet and flexing for the roaring arena! I turn to face you waiting in the corner.

"Hey." I acknowledge you with an upward tilt of my head. "You be a good boy and put on a nice show for my girl, huh? She likes it when they suffer." A shit-eating grin on my face as I speak down to you.

Stacked Sky:

You strut out, this orange trunked, flex-crazed cock-wagon, like you own every atom in the building. Your high-fiving every degenerate on the aisle, the losers lap it up falling over each other to touch your hand. You stop every five feet, posing, soaking up the waves of screams. You zero in on the front row like it’s the fucking VIP lounge at a meat market, there they sit, a row of your neanderthal gym bros, beefed up, bulging biceps, barely contained in tight stringers and short shorts all side-eyeing every chick that passes by.

You move to who I assume is your girl, some fucking Barbie Doll, she’s poured into this screaming red one-piece dress, so tight and tiny that her store-bought tits are making their own entrance. Sitting there, legs crossed, high-heels, a little gold purse in her lap. Fuck what street corner did she come from? She giggles like a porn star auditioning for the girl next door. Predictable. You just start making out with her, right there, full tongue.

You finally break free, give her tits a squeeze then drop to the floor, slide under the bottom rope giving me an arrogant tilt of your head, taunting me about a good show for your Lady. “Don’t worry she’s gonna get a show all right!” I bark back “Just hope she doesn’t leave you for the better man when it’s over.”

I lean into the ropes, stretching, making a show of my own. My quads flex, deep and cut, and the singlet rides up so every thirsty bitch gets a better look at my thick junk. I make sure you notice. I want you angry, off your game, overconfident and sloppy.

The ref calls us to the center, I don’t break eye contact. “Hope you kissed your girlfriend goodbye, Reign,” I say, low and just for you. “She’ll be leaving with a real man tonight.” The look on your face makes it all worth while.

DING DING DING

The bell rings. Showtime. I circle with you, eyes locked, every muscle itching for the first move…

Tyler Reign:

"Oh don't you worry. My girl ALWAYS leaves with the real man." I hear the bell ring, and we start to circle each other.

I never pay much attention to the worthless, beta, jobber-of-the-week bitch boys the organization "challenges" me with. The losers I slap around my ring for a while before eventually showing mercy by pinning their asses and ending the match. Their names? Their faces? Their reputation? It doesn't matter. They all end up in the same place. Under my fucking boot. So I'm sure the announcer mentioned your name to all kinds of pomp and circumstance as you made your way down to my ring, and I'm sure I caught it at the time, but honestly, I already forgot. Only reason I mention how little of a fuck I give about these guys is because I'm only now realizing, only now after finally granting you the generous courtesy of looking at you, that you're actually wearing the bullshit you're wearing! "Dude... what the fuck is that?" I say incredulously, your hefty bulge impossible not to notice in your grey singlet. "Go put some real fucking gear on if you're gonna fight me, mother fucker. I ain’t about to wrestle you like that." The disgust clear in my voice.

Stacked Sky:

We circle each other. Your mouth runs faster than your brain, just like every other jacked-up Hetero in this business. Your meathead fan club howls from the front row while you eyeball my singlet like it personally offends you.

"What's wrong, pretty boy? Jealous of what God gave me?" I smirk, watching your eyes dart away from my bulge. Always the same with you straight boy insecure types.

I’m fucking tired of your mouth, while your lips are still moving, I step back. Mid-sentence, as you’re about to drop another turd about my gear or whatever, I drive the ball of my foot into your abs. You step back, folding. I grab your neck with both hands, slip my head under your jaw, lock tight and drop to my knees. CRACK! your fucking teeth snap together. The jawbreaker echoes through the arena like a gunshot. Your eyes roll back, You fucking drop like a two-hundred-pound sack of meat, crashing to your back. Your hands clutch at your jaw. Before you can recover, I'm airborne, my knee missile-locked on your exposed gut.

Tyler Reign:

Mid fucking conversation and you decide it's a good idea to throw your bare foot my direction. Your heel smashes into my guts. Cheap piece of shit. Bent over now from the cowardly sucker-punch, you lock your arms around my neck and drop to your knees, bringing the weight of your heavy body down and forcing all that momentum directly into my jaw! My teeth clack together hard and I fall back. On the ground for only a moment before I see your frame in the air directly above me. Adrenaline spiking now from the intense start of the match, I easily roll to my side and hop to my feet with plenty of time to spare just as you land on nothing but mat. "You just dug your own fucking grave with that cheap shit, fucker."

Circling each other in a bit of a reset, now I'm ready for anything you might try to surprise me with. "Guess it's too late for you to change into real wrestling gear now. But you know what? I changed my mind. I'm gonna make you WISH you had more covering your shit when I use it against you" I say while making a lewd squeezing motion with my hand. "Hope you enjoyed that attack on me, because it's the only one I'm going to let you HAVE!" with my final word I rush you, sinking to my knees lower than you expect to wrap my muscular arms around your waist from a near kneeling position. Then planting my feet firmly into the mat, I flex my powerful legs and lift your body up off the ground, arc my back intensely, and release you mid air, sending your useless, ragdoll ass flying behind me!

Stacked Sky:

I drop like a goddamn missile, but you're already gone. My knee detonates on the mat, a wave of agony blasts up my leg. I snarl, roll away, slap the canvas, using the sting as a wake-up.

Back in each other's faces now, you're still bitching about my gear like it's your business. I catch you staring at my package while you make that squeezing motion with your fist. "Eyes up here, princess," I sneer, tapping my bulge. "What's wrong? Never seen a real man before? Don't worry, by the time I'm done with you tonight, this'll be burned into your spank bank forever. Might even let you take a selfie with it after I wreck you.”

I barely get the words out when you drop down, wrap your arms around my waist, drive up, heaving me over your head, I crash to the canvas, tumbling, rolling to my side, I stand staggering into the opposite corner.

I turn, to find you flexing for your muscleboy fan club. They're pounding the barrier like they’re beating their tiny dicks. "Tyler! Tyler!" chanting like brainless sheep. Your girl's tits are about to pop out of that dollar-store dress. "Crush him, baby!" she screams, her mouth wide enough to take a baseball. You eating this shit up, an attention whore, blowing kisses to Barbie while your boys feed on your stardom.

I lunge towards you, few steps, you’re too self absorbed flexing to see me coming. I slam my fists into your back like a sledgehammer. BOOM! You stumble forward, throat smashing the top rope. Hanging there like meat on a hook. I grab the rope, swing my leg over your head, and squeeze. Your windpipe crushes against cold steel. "How's that feel, superstar? Can't breathe? Your face turns purple."Better get used to choking, pretty boy. That's all you'll be doing tonight."

Tyler Reign:

I flex and showboat to the crowd, to my gym bros, to my girl. Fuck yea. Didn't take long to turn this match around. Not that I expected anything different from this overconfident shithead.

You're so far beneath me, so far from being a concern or a threat to me that I essentially ignore you like you don't exist while I put on a hard, sweaty gun show for the crowd. A solipsistic display of pure testosterone. The sudden shot of pain through my back, then my throat as I'm draped across the ropes like a wet towel, brings me back to the fight.

Before I can push myself back up, you've hooked your leg over the top of my head and started using your pelvis and your weight to choke me harder into the rope! "Get off me!" I shout through loud chokes. I can feel your fucking package somewhere along my upper back and neck…and disgust like that REALLY lights a fire under a fighter's ass!

I turn my head to the side, and drop down hard, pulling against the rope beneath me to help me slip downward and out of your compromising hold. I fall down against the ring floor onto my hands and knees. With your leg still hooked over the rope vulnerably, I dash backwards between your legs, leap to my feet, and throw on a brutal rear naked choke on you from behind, your balance and leverage severely limited with your leg still over the top rope! "See mother fucker?" I say calmly into your ear. "This is why you shouldn't bring your arrogant bullshit into MY ring. I'm about to make you look like such a fucking pussy." The cheers from my people egging me on harder. My girl is hollering now, tits bouncing up and down as she hops in excitement. "Get his ass, babe!" She shouts to me. And I give her a cocky smile, flex the rock-hard bicep of my free arm while choking you with my other. I turn my head, pucker my lips, and plant a little kiss on my own flexed peak for her to enjoy. Then turn my attention back to you. "You know If you tap now. I might just let you kiss this bicep too, bitch."

Stacked Sky:

Your choking and gagging puts a big fucking grin on my face. I look out at your Barbie doll girlfriend. Poor baby can't even watch her man get wrecked. Got her hand over her eyes and shit. Until she peeks through her fingers and catches me grinding my bulge against your skull. Then those eyes get real wide.

You writhe free beneath me, slipping away. I'm stranded, leg hooked over the top rope, my package crushed against unforgiving top cable. Shit burns.

Can't move fast enough. You're on me. Forearm like concrete crushes my throat. Can't breathe. Can't fucking think. Arms flailing, vision blurs. My feet find nothing but air. I'm hanging in your grip. Your plastic Barbie squeals at ringside like a pig getting fucked. Sweat pours down my chest, soaks my hair, my singlet. Lungs screaming for air. You whisper that tap-out bullshit in my ear. Big mistake, stud boy. Nobody makes me submit. Nobody.

Your grip loosens for a split second. All I need. I swing my leg back,WHAM, my hamstring crushes your nuts like ripe fruit. Your face twists into something beautiful. Pure agony. I do it again. HARDER. You scream like a bitch in heat. The crowd goes silent. Your boys stop chanting. Your girl covers her mouth. Everyone watching you break. You crumple, hands cupping what's left of your manhood. Pathetic. I spit on the mat. "Barbie's gonna need ice packs tonight. And a real man tomorrow."

I spin around, grab a fistful of your hair, drag your ass toward the turnbuckle. Your moaning. Those massive gym-rat legs of yours can't even keep up, stumbling, tripping, fucking useless. I slam your face into the padding. WHAM! Your head bounces back. WHAM! Again. WHAM! A third time. Each impact your skull ricocheting like I'm dribbling a goddamn basketball. Your head bouncing back, eyes unfocused, drool hanging from your bottom lip. “Not looking like a Champ now!” I bark.

I spin you around. You can't even stand straight, wobbling on those useless legs. I lock my arm around your neck, "Time to eat mat, stud boy." I strut forward, dragging your sorry ass with me, then drop driving your face into the canvas with a Bulldog. WHAM! Your face smashes first, then your body goes limp, arms and legs splayed. I spring up while you're still twitching, still kissing the mat, step over your pathetic body, grab a fist full of that perfect hair yank you up onto your knees.

Tyler Reign:

Your choking sounds are music to my ears. Only need one arm to keep you in check like a good boy. The other arm? Well, that one is for the entertainment of the people! I continue to flex it and make my bicep bounce around when suddenly, a gut-wrenching pain in my balls sucks all of the life out of me for a moment, and a follow up in the exact same spot makes my stomach feel like it's being tied up in knots. My eyes go wide as you easily slip from my grasp in this state. And the wailing from my mouth now, an absolute far cry from the gloating just a moment ago. I grab my junk hard through my orange shorts, trying to soothe the pain as best, and as quickly as I possibly can. When a sudden sting in my scalp and a hard yank up to my feet lets me know you've grabbed a firm fistful of my hair to lead me around.

You drag me quickly to a turnbuckle, and my tripping, wobbling legs can barely keep up still reeling from the pain in my aching balls. Then suddenly, the pain is almost numbed. *BAM* My face gets ruthlessly introduced to the corner turnbuckle padding 1, 2, 3 fucking times. My face is a drooping, slobbering, pathetic shadow of it's former glory, and as you hook your muscular arm around my head in a bulldog, I can barely put up an ounce of resistance. You leap forward, and my head is coming with you. *BOOM* With the full intensity of both our combined body weights, my face is the first thing to make impact with the mat! The mat rattles and shakes violently from your powerful display.

I'm splayed out on the mat now like a muscular throw-rug, a puddle of drool collecting around my mouth. An impact like that? It's a miracle I'm still conscious. My lips push against the mat unwillingly in this position, as if you're literally making me kiss it. Then suddenly, another sharp pain in my scalp, and I'm pulled upwards, now down on my knees in front of your powerful, sweaty frame for the world to see. My arms still dangling uselessly by my sides. Fuck…

Stacked Sky:

No trash talk now. Jaw slack. I drag you up. Zero fight left. Those show-off arms? Dead weight. I wrench your head back, lock eyes. You gurgle, drool streaming. Your swagger? Gone.

I yank your hair harder, forcing your face right into my package. "Can't take your eyes off it, can you? Well here's your close-up view, pretty boy," I snarl, ramming my hips forward. My bulge crushes against your face, stretching the fabric thin. Nine thick inches of me grinding all over your cheeks, your lips, your nose. You're breathing me in now. Pure fucking dominance. Your hands scratch at my thighs, fingers digging into nothing but rock-hard muscle. You ain't going nowhere.

I lock eyes with your Barbie doll girlfriend and shoot her a nasty wink while you're eating my package. Her jaw hits the fucking floor. Look at you now, Mr. Championship Belt. On your knees with your face buried in my junk like it's your last fucking meal. Not a sound in the whole damn arena except your pathetic mumbling and whimpers against the outline of my monster cock.

I drop low, snatch your limp wrist, and duck under. Just like that, your arm's hanging over my shoulder. I jam my hand between those thick thighs you're so fucking proud of. Up you go into my torture rack, all 220 pounds of you, dead weight on my back. Some champion you are. Nothing but garbage I'm hauling to the curb.

Your hung out to dry, just dangling, my one arm under you cradling your ass, fingers just reaching your crotch, my other yanking down over your mouth, your arms flopping, legs kicking. I don't just hold you there. I start to bounce. Deep, nasty squats, up and down, making your whole frame shudder and jolt.

Crowd's losing their shit now. Listen to 'em howl. Your meathead buddies pounding the barrier, begging for scraps of mercy I ain't serving today. I lock eyes with your Barbie doll girlfriend while I bend you backward like a fucking pretzel. Arch you deeper. Make it hurt. She's chewing those pink claws raw, black tears streaming down her face. Poor thing. Never seen her man-toy snapped in half before.

But then I feel it, the twitch in your crotch. You might be getting wrecked, but your dick is fucking loving it. I dig my hand into your orange gym shorts, no hesitation, and get a grip on your cock. It’s not even hard yet, but I start working it, slow at first, then with dirty, mechanical jerks. "You like that, don't you, tough guy?" I hiss, smothering you with one arm, jacking with the other.

The entire arena can see my fist moving, jacking under the orange shorts. You fucking swelling in my grip. Everyone seeing you grow. You try to beg, but it's just garbled bullshit and drool. The place goes fucking church quiet. Nothing but the wet sounds of me working your pathetic cock, with you whimpering like a bitch in heat…

Tyler Reign:

After a move like that, I'm barely conscious... but I'm conscious enough to know when another man has his entire fucking package in my face! Anger and shock flush through my body, but part of me is still counting sheep, still mentally recalibrating from taking a face-full of mat just a few seconds ago. Though a face-full of mat seems like mercy compared to the face-full of lycra covered barbarian bulge I'm getting familiarized with now! You thrust your hips, gyrate your pelvis, adjust my head left, right, up down, back forth... you take my face on a fucking TOUR of your hefty fucking package! And I finally regain just enough lucidity to remember something…my fucking girl is seeing this…

"...no..." quietly escapes from my lips before you scoop me up into a painful torture rack. The quiet of the arena is surreal, the shock palpable. A display of blatant disrespect like this has never been seen under this roof, and least of all to the fucking CHAMPION! But that display only gets worse... I feel your hand reach up the fucking leg of my shorts... and I start to scream and whimper muffled moans into your hand over my mouth as you jack me violently, my cock betraying me and jumping to attention…

no…fuck no…this can't be happening to me…

Stacked Sky:

I spin you around so your girl and those juice monkeys can see what's coming next. Then I just let go. BOOM! The whole fucking ring rattles under your dead weight.

I tower over you, watching your pathetic ass sprawled out. Your eyes locked on the ceiling lights like you're begging to be saved. That Barbie doll of yours screams from ringside, "Leave him alone!" Too fucking late for that. I just stand here, drinking it all in. The mighty champ reduced to garbage at my feet, dick tenting those orange shorts like a fucking flagpole.

Spotlight burns down on me like I'm God himself. I snap the singlet straps off my shoulders with a flick. They slide down past my waist. The crowd goes dead silent. My chest, all muscle, slick with sweat, covered in that perfect dusting of dark hair, glistening, a treasure trail runs straight down to where it matters. My monster cock strains, pushing my singlet down exposing my thick root where it all starts. Nine inches of pure man-meat stretching down my thigh like a third leg. The whole fucking arena's eyes glued to my package.

Your Barbie doll's jaw drops, like she's seeing a real man for the first time. Your juice-head buddies suddenly find the ceiling real interesting. But you? Can't tear your eyes away, can you, champ?

Two fucking steps is all it takes. I'm airborne. My massive thigh crashes down on your throat like a goddamn guillotine. WHAM! Your pretty-boy face goes purple. Body bucking, eyes bulging, That throat of yours is nothing more than my footstool.

I slide back, wrap my thick thighs around your neck…

Tyler Reign:

Everything feels as though it's all happening so quickly. About a minute ago I was choking your ass out, offering you the generous chance to surrender by simply agreeing to kiss my bicep in front of the entire arena. And now... I'm in completely unfamiliar, completely foreign territory... racked across your back in agony, the scent of your package still fresh in my nostrils from the face-full you fed me a few seconds prior, your hand bringing my fucking cock to attention in my shorts... what the fuck is happening?? I GOTTA TURN THIS FIGHT AROUND FAST.

Then, gravity makes me it's bitch. Still facing up, I'm descending. And my back slams into the mat with no cushioning whatsoever. *SLAM* "UGH!" A single guttural wheeze escapes my body. I plead internally with my own body to fucking move. Keeping an eye on you as you take your time strutting around me, standing in place, just basking in what you're doing to me. And when those straps of your singlet start coming down your broad shoulders and intimidating arms, THAT'S what starts to get my body moving slowly again. Scooching away from you on my back. Just need enough time to recover, just need to land something devastating on this piece of shit and I'll turn this embarrassing ordeal around!

Your cock points downwards through your singlet, and the fabric is being stretched to its limit. You reveal your threateningly powerful upper body, glistening with fresh sweat, and intentionally exposing just the very base of your cock to the arena as a sign of dominance. That's when the sound of my girl's voice pierces my ears. 'Leave him alone!' She screams! That's it. You're gonna try to pull this shit in front of my girl? You're gonna make her worry like that?? Then you're fucking done! "Don't worry, Babe!" I shout from the ring. "This fucker just made the biggest mistake of his life... he PISSED ME OFF!" I engage my triceps and begin to push myself upward, fully prepared to shake off the grogginess and FUCK YOU UP! "You're MINE BI- *CHOKE!!!*" Before I can make good on my promise to my girl, your thick, heavy thigh comes CRASHING down onto my throat!

"CCCHHHHKKKK!!!" Only an animalistic choking sound escapes my throat now! Worrying my girl even more! Then you adjust your positioning while my facial expression contorts in agony, and you casually drape that leg over my already aching throat, and pull my head between BOTH your thighs and start squeezing. HARD. "CCHHHHHKKKK!!! *CHOKE* *COUGH* CCCHCCCCCHHHKKKKK!!!! *COUGH* *COUGH* *GAG* CCCCCCCCHHHHHHKKKK!!!" I'm made to sound like an instrument of pure suffering, a beautiful sound to your ears no doubt, all while I fruitlessly slap my palms and claw around your legs, trying everything I can to pry you off of me!

Stacked Sky:

Your neck feels like a fucking twig between my thighs. I lock my legs around your head, hook my foot cinching the Fig 4 choke tight. You gasp, desperate for air that ain’t coming, boots kicking at the canvas while I own every inch of you.

I start pumping out pushups while your head's locked between my thighs. One. Two. Three. Crowd goes wild. Don't even break a sweat. "Watch a real fucking man work, bitch." Your face turns red, veins popping. Those famous twenty-inch pythons of yours claw at my legs, your fucking desperate. Useless. The crowd counts along while you're dying for air. Your girl can't look away. "Bet she never saw you owned like this before, huh champ?" Eight. Nine. Ten. I could go all night.

I squeeze harder, feeling your fucking pulse throb between my thighs. Your brain starving for oxygen while those baby-blues bulge. Your face finally turning that special shade of purple only choking bitches get. "What's it gonna be? Tap out like a bitch, or take a little nap right here in front of your silicone princess?" I flex my quads tighter, veins popping across my chest. "Clock's ticking, champ. Show these people what a fucking fraud you really are!"

Tyler Reign:

My loud, animalistic chokes continue to fill the arena air as you squeeze your legs harder around my throat. From the walking picture of calm, collected confidence, to the flailing weakling of pure desperation you've turned me into now, and displaying me to the entire audience... most of all my girl and my gym bros. This can't be fucking happening. I've never, NEVER wanted anything more than a breath of fresh air right now. Not even to dick down my girl after whooping some poor loser's sorry ass. Even THAT desire falls short of just how bad I want to breathe right now, of the unspeakable things I would do just draw a breath of fresh air!

And as you lock your legs tighter, and begin to do pushups since I'm clearly not enough of a workout for you. Panic, turns to true, emasculating fear of the strength of another man. A feeling I've NEVER been forced to deal with before. But here we are.

And the desperation is suddenly made clear for all the world to see... like I said... I would do ANYTHING to breath again... and that includes the single most humiliating thing I've ever done. The single most emasculating display my girl has ever seen from me. The single most 'we don't talk about that' story my gym bros have ever bore witness too...

I start to frantically, wildly, pathetically, and without a single hint of poise or dignity, slam my palms against your thighs in an unbelievable display of submission. I tap out like a bitch on your powerful legs. *TAP* *TAP* *TAP* *TAP* *TAP* *TAP* ...

Less than five minutes. It took you less than five minutes to take the champion and make him tap.

This is rock bottom...

Stacked Sky:

Whole arena gasps. The legend Tyler Reign, the self-appointed god king, is tapping out like a desperate bitch. My thighs crush your windpipe while you slap my legs, so fucking helpless. I feel your pulse fading between my muscles. Keep squeezing just to watch you suffer a few more seconds. When I finally release you, it's on my terms. I toss your head back, stand up smooth like nothing. Towering over your gasping broken ass like a fucking colossus. Your eyes tell the whole story, you're finished, you're mine, and everybody fucking knows it.

My name detonates through the speakers as the winner while your orange ass lies there, in a puddle of sweat, clutching at your neck like shattered pieces of your ego.

I don’t give a shit about your sad gold belt, or applause. I’m here to break, ruin, and erase.

I take my sweet time walking the ring. Each step a victory lap. Your Barbie doll girlfriend can't look away. I swagger to the ropes, eyeing your girl like she's next on the menu. My hand slides down the length of my bulge. Slow, Deliberate. Let her see what a real man's packing. "Like what you see, princess?" Her mouth hangs open. Speechless bitch. That slutty red dress crawls up her thighs as she spreads her legs wide. No panties. Typical. "Your boy's watching, sweetheart. Give him a good show while I finish breaking him."

I turn back and catch you dragging your sorry ass toward the ropes. Like some beaten mutt crawling back to its cage. That how champions move now? On all fours, gasping for breath? Keep crawling, bitch. Everyone's watching the great Tyler Reign.

Tyler Reign:

I'm tapping out without a single shred of dignity left in me. Wide-eyed, panicked, desperate, completely humbled between your powerful thighs. And you still won't let go. True fear creeps on my face before you finally release my head from between your legs, making me immediately erupt in an uncontrolled fit of gasps and coughs on the ground, while you tower over me. Standing up like this was barely a warm up for you.

The next few moments, a surreal few seconds made to feel like hours for me. YOUR name, not mine, blaring over the loudspeakers to the sound of your theme music and pyrotechnics erupting in the arena. A hoard of newly aligned fans cheering your name. YOU walking around the ring like you own it. Strutting your body for all to see. The body that conquered me in record time.

And finally, the last straw. YOU posing against the ropes, addressing MY girlfriend, intoxicating her with your raw masculinity…

FUCK THIS. NO. I DON'T FUCKING CARE IF THIS FIGHT IS OFFICIALLY OVER. YOU'RE FUCKING FINISHED.

"Nobody talks to my girl like that but me!" I shout to you through strained vocal cords as I pull myself back up to my feet against the ropes. "You're fucked now, Sky! You hear me?? You're FUCKED!!!" I lose all composure, and ignore all the rules... "I'm gonna fucking wipe that arrogant smile off your goddamn face!" I allow myself to fall back against the ropes, and use them to slingshot myself like an anger-fueled freight train hurdling towards you. Every muscle in my body flexed. Every last part of me ready to tear you to shreds for this unforgivable humiliation! I leap high into the air, both my booted feet coming off the mat, curling in towards my body, and then FIRING out like steel pistons in a deadly drop kick with the soles of both my boots aiming straight for that cocky, shit-eating face of yours! This fucker is going to PAY!

Stacked Sky:

I laugh as your ass jiggles with every move as you crawl away. Your threats are fucking jokes now. I spin around to your pathetic fanboys, drop a most muscular. My V-taper is insane, narrow waist, wide-ass lats spreading like wings. Not that bloated bullshit you call muscle. Your voice cracks when you scream. "You're fucked!" bounces off the walls.

I turn to see your pathetic dropkick coming a mile away. Fucking amateur hour. You launch those big dumb boots at my face like I'm some blind motherfucker. I sidestep your sorry ass and watch you sail past me like garbage in the wind. CRASH! Right into the ropes like the brainless bitch. Look at you now, champion. On your knees, arm draped over the middle rope, eyes glazed over. Can't even figure out which way is up anymore.

I back up, measuring the distance. Spin around like a fucking tornado. Every muscle in my body screams power as I charge. My knee launches straight at your pretty-boy face. CRACK! Your head snaps back. You slump against the ropes, drooling like the brain-dead bitch you are. Can't even hold your head up. That championship belt looking real fucking good from where I'm standing. Just like your girl will look underneath me when I'm done wrecking what's left of you.

I grab a fistful of your hair. "Time for a show boy." My voice cuts through the arena. One arm slides under your pit. I jerk you up. Slam you against the top rope. I yank the second rope high, trap your arms. Now you're mine. Spread-eagle…

Tyler Reign:

I fly with my feet extended out like goddamn javelins about to clobber the lights out of your useless fucking head. But with a simple, easy, and not even a very urgent adjustment of your body, you simply step to the side nonchalantly, and let me continue to fly forward hard. BOOM! The mat rattles loud as I land awkwardly right at the edge of it hard. Injuring my side and catching myself painfully against the ropes in the process. "AH! Fuck... Get your ass back here! You're not hiding from me!" And 'get your ass back here' is exactly what you decide to do. Still down awkwardly against the rope, you decide to return the favor and charge ME this time! Only difference is, I'm in no fucking position to dodge this!

*CRAAAACK!!!*

The sound that comes off your knee impacting my skull is enough to make the entire audience gasp! And if I thought getting my body to cooperate was difficult before... you've essentially made it impossible now. I'm slumped against the ropes... the display made all the more embarrassing considering how I was screaming and hollering about how I was going to fuck you up for talking to my girl the way you did. Instead, you simply pull me up to a standing position, and tie my arms between the top and middle ropes to hold me firmly in place. My body hanging off the ropes like a useless sack of shit. My head hanging down, drooling onto the mat. My girl... starting to spread her legs wider...

Stacked Sky:

I hop over the top rope like a fuckin' predator. Trap your head between my thighs. Got you in a death scissors now. Crowd goes wild when I bounce against the ropes, grinding my junk into your face. Fuck the look on your Barbie slut when I push my singlet lower. My fat cum tanks drop out tea bagging your mouth and nose, My thick shaft stretches past your forehead, leaking, baptizing you with my pre.

Your girl can't even fuckin' wait. Look at her sluttin' it up. Legs spread wide. One hand buried in her pussy, the other with fingers in her mouth. Bitch is practically screaming for it from the front row. Damn, she's already replaced you and I ain't even finished wrecking your sorry ass yet.

I feed the crowd what they want. Fuckin' look at these guns. Veins poppin' like I'm 'bout to burst. Your fans can't look away. Burn this shit into your memory, losers. This is what a real fuckin' champion looks like. Your hero? Just my cock cushion now.

I release your worthless face from between my thighs and jump back into the ring. Your pathetic gasps fills the arena.

I cut you loose from those ropes and watch you stumble like a drunk bitch. Perfect. One quick move and my arm's around your throat, cranking your head back in a Dragon Sleeper. Your face gets buried in my sweaty pit huffing my man stink while the whole arena watches. I flex harder, making that hold tight as fuck. I haul your sorry ass to center ring. Can't even walk right, can ya? Those beefy legs dragging behind you. Arms swinging wild, grabbing at nothing but air. Some fucking champion. Everyone sees who the real man is now.

I hear you begging into my sweaty pit, your lips brushing my skin. "Stop..." pleading like a fucking child. "Sure thing, Champ," I sneer, then slam my fist into your gut. BOOM! Again! My knuckles disappear into those so-called abs. Softened up I drop you hard across my knee. CRACK! Your spine bends like a fucking twig. Bounce you again. Harder. Your eyes roll back, spit running down your chin. One more time for these fans, Wham! You body spasms before I dump you onto the canvas…

Tyler Reign:

My body about as useful, about as powerful and threatening as a wet sack of shit as I hang from the ropes. But you decide to put a quick change to that. Hopping over the top ropes with your legs spread wide, catching my face in between your thighs as you land on the other side, you slowly, and methodically lower your singlet further and further down your cut, lightly hairy body, revealing more and more of your lower abs, waist, thick dick root, and eventually, the shocking magnitude of your entire cock and balls.

The fucking smell of the fabric of your singlet as it lowers towards my nose is almost too much to bear, but the smell of your freshly sweaty nutsack as it finds a comfortable resting place over my screaming mouth and nose... that's enough to make me scowl, wince, and gag! Your big, hefty dick comes to a rest over my face, the head above my forehead. I'm in a state of pure suffering now. And just like that, you've found a greater purpose for me. Your fucking cock cushion.

Suddenly you release me from the ropes, and my shocked, drooling face comes stumbling forward, directly into your deep, rank armpit! You stretch your arm around my head, force me into a dragon sleeper and walk my ass to the middle of the ring. The best view for the audience.

"hmm... s-stop... you... you fuckin win!" I shout muffled into your dripping wet armpit! Then BAM! My abs get broken down into paste by your rock hard fist, and you throw my body back into your iron knee, one, two, three fucking times! Ragdoll doesn't even begin to describe how my body looks as you toss my pathetic ass down onto the canvas, face up with you towering over me. "mmm... p-please... no more..." Intentionally quiet so only you can hear me. PRAYING my girl doesn't hear my like this.

Stacked Sky:

God damn, you ever see a slab of prime, grade-A beef reduced to a fucking dog toy? That’s your champion right here, Tyler Reign, the so-called king of the ring. On his back, collapsed on the canvas, arms limp, face shell-shocked from the blow I just delivered. He can’t even open his eyes, but his mouth…oh, that’s wide open, lips slack, jaw loose. The crowd’s still trying to make sense of it but most just standing up, phones out, desperate to see which piece of meat gets chewed up next.

Never seen a fuckin’ loser like this before. Pathetic turned up to a goddamn eleven. I’m standing over your carcass. I jam my foot on your face, pinning your head to the mat like I’m grinding a cigarette out. Your lips squish under my toes, jaw slack and trembling. I spread your slobber everywhere. Chin to cheek. Cheek to cheek. You just lay there. Taking it. "No more," you beg. Pathetic little bitch. Christ, you’re not even trying to fake pride. You’re just sucking down the humiliation, drowning in it. I jam my big toe between your lips. You open wide. Like a trained dog. Taking toe after toe. Mouth stretched around my foot. Then you shock me. You actually start sucking. Fucking humiliating yourself more than I ever could.

“DAMN, you got a kink for this don’cha?” I crackle. I pull my foot from your mouth, a string of drool hangs down your cheek. Fuck, the crowd’s loving it. I glance at your bitch. Legs spread wide. Fingers buried deep. Fucking herself stupid. Dripping wet. Can't wait for my cock. Look at her eyes. Fixed on me. Not you. Your girl's getting off watching me wreck you.

I snatch your hair. Yank hard. Force you to kneel. My singlet slides down. My monster cock springs free. Thick. Veiny. Already leaking. Victory's got me rock hard. I smack that fat meat across your face. Pre-cum streaks your cheek like war paint. "Open up, Champ. I’m gonna feed you something better than sweaty toes."

I jam my sweaty nuts against your nose. Ram my shaft against your lips. Your eyes water. Throat makes this pathetic little sound. Fucking music to my ears. The crowd goes wild. Your girl can't look away. Neither can your bros. This is your life now…

Tyler Reign:

"Fuck... Sky... No more... you fucking wi-*CHOKE* *COUGH*" I'm not even allowed to fucking finish my pathetic begging before your big toe is placed firmly in between my fucking lips! I wince and cough, turn my head to the side to escape this unspeakable emasculation! But as you simply shove more and more of your foot into my mouth, each toe greeting my tongue with a new filthy taste as they pass my lips and stuff my mouth, you're able to control my head a little more easily. You hold my head facing up... so that I HAVE to look directly into the eyes of the fucking GOD, the fucking DOG TRAINER that's destroying me right now! I suck down spit hard to keep from choking, struggling to breathe... and I start to moan loud and embarrassed as I realize that it's essentially forcing me to SUCK ON YOUR FUCKING TOES! A sensation that you're more than happy to point out, not allowing my mind a single shred of dignity!

You remove your foot from my mouth like the King Arthur removing the sword of Excalibur. Shiny, and shimmering. My drool still dripping down onto my own face before you put your bare foot back onto the mat, and grab a nice, thick, fistful of my hair, pulling me up hard to my knees. I kneel before you a punch-drunk bitch.

The next part almost seems to happen in slow motion. Your singlet travels far down your indomitable body once more... and like a sweaty fucking kielbasa, your big, fat, veiny horse-cock comes eagerly bouncing out of your clothing, your hefty nut-sack not far behind. I close my eyes and whimper as I'm forced to face pure, unbridled masculinity. What manhood REALLY fucking looks like, smells like. What is FEELS like as you grab it at the base, and slap that piping-hot meat straight across my distraut face like a night stick in the hands of a cop with a bad attitude.

"Sky... please... my girl's watching this..." I say as my body floods with insecurity. A small rope of pre connecting my cheek to the head of your intimidating cock. I lose all sense of pride and dignity as I make you an offer to spare my public humiliation. "Please... I'll do anything you want in the locker room... anything... just don't do this in front of my girl.... my fucking gym bros...". Submission like this is unheard of from the former fucking champion!

The taste of your sweaty fucking toes still fresh on my tongue, you look me in the eyes and promise to feed me a new, much better taste... and with that, you shove your sweaty ballsack against my nose, giving me a nice, smelly preview of the flavors in store for me very soon. Your rock hard shaft presses against my lips as your head towers above my forehead. My eyes travel up, up, up, the long, sweaty length of your shaft... fuck... there's no way I'm about to have to do this in front of everyone... there's... there's no fucking way all that can fit down my throat.

I'm trembling on my knees before you as you hold your boner against my face... making sure I take it all in before you grab your dick at the base, and point it directly at my mouth...

"...m...mercy..."

Stacked Sky:

You beg like a fucking bitch. “Please… my girl’s watching.” The words squeeze out from quaking lips, more whiny than even I expected. Pathetic doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I paint your face with my meat. Slap-slap. Left cheek. Right cheek. Pre-cum glazes you like a donut. My dick throbs against your skin. Thick. Hard. Ready. Champion-level equipment right here. My cock’s huge, leaking, mean. You get to wear it like a fucking badge. You're just another

conquest, motherfucker for my God-tier cock.

"Open up, Champ." I snarl and you fucking do. Perfect. I slam my rock-hard nine inches down your throat. No warning. No mercy. Balls Deep. Your eyes go wide. Snot runs. Tears flow. I feel your ruined muscles twitch against my thighs. Those useless biceps. Those thick pecs. For What? I push deeper. Your throat bulges obscenely. The crowd gasps. Phones up. Recording everything. The champ Tyler Reign, muscle god choking on my alpha meat. I pull back. Ram forward. Your spit bubbles around my shaft. "Take it all, Show muscle." Each thrust destroys you more. My fat sausage making itself at home. Your throat belongs to me. Every fucking inch.

I piston in and out, hand tight in your hair, fucking your face like it’s just another hole, because right now, that’s all you are. Just a glorified cock sleeve, a monument to wasted bulk and shattered ego.

I skull-fuck you raw. Zero pity. Watch your neck swell around my monster shaft. Feel your throat muscles squeeze me like a vice. Your useless tongue flutters under my dick. Bitch tears flood down. Snot leaks everywhere. I pull back slow. Just the tip stretching those pretty-boy lips. Then, WHAM, all the way in. Your throat gurgles like a backed-up toilet. Eyes rolling. Just whites now. Muscles spasming.

I establish a brutal rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. Each thrust harder than the last. Your throat muscles convulse, trying to reject me. Failing. Just like your wrestling career, like your pathetic life a fucking disgrace. My nuts draw up tight. The big finish coming, ready to unload. "Swallow it all, bitch." I bury myself balls deep. Lock your head against my pubes.

My nut explodes down your throat. Thick ropes. Hot lava. You're my personal cum dumpster now. I yank out and SPLAT…jizz rockets outta your face holes like a fuckin' geyser. Look at you. Champion? Nah. Just my bitch now. Wrecked. Owned. Finished. Game over. That's how a real fuckin' man ends a match. The perfect end to a perfect massacre.

And then I hear it.

From the corner of the ring, shrill and lusty, fucking Barbie girl is screaming, “Oh Skyler… Fuck me… I need you!” That slut’s red dress hiked up, fingers working overtime. She’s dripping wet, begging for my cock, lost in the spectacle. I see her eyes, fixed on me, not on Tyler. Not for a second, all she cares about is me.

I grab you by the hair, wrench your head up so you can see your girl, face twisted in lust, mascara streaked, mouth open wide. “See that?” I whisper, “She’s getting off harder than you ever made her.” I drag you around the ring on all fours by your hair, making sure every single person gets a look at what’s left of you…

Tyler Reign:

After the most emasculating sequence of please, cries, and beggings escape my lips, I have no other choice but to simply wait patiently for your response. Down on my knees, your cock slapping hard against my face several times. My eyes widen with horror as I witness, both with my eyes, and with the stiffening feeling against my face, that my begging has only served to get your dick even fucking harder! A tiny, pathetic, quivering "...fuck..." on the verge of tears is the last thing to leave my mouth before ALL. NINE. FUCKING. INCHES of your musky horse-cock are SHOVED down my throat! "CCHKK!!!" The choking sound that escapes me is almost inhuman!

And for the next several minutes... those loooong agonizing minutes... made to feel like hours... no... fucking DAYS from my perspective... I suck your raw fucking Clydesdale meat DEEP, HARD, and SLOPPY. In front of the hollering audience. In front of my gym bros…

In front of my fucking girl…

"GAWKGAWKGAWKGCCGCCHHHKKKK!!!!!" All the shit I was talking to you before the match... Now reduced to a choking, gurgling, drooling little cock-servant. My own fucking hubris, my uncontrolled cockiness tortures my mind. In between thoughts of the footage that's sure to go online soon, to the looks of shame my gym bros will be giving me from now on if they can even stomach to look at me, to the complete and total shame, disgust, and embarrassment my girl must be feeling just for being with me right now... In between all of that, my mind replays how I thought I'd be making you kiss my fucking bicep in submission by the end of the match... but instead... my biceps hang powerlessly at my sides while you're making me slobber all over your fat, sweaty, sausage like an all you can fucking eat buffet. My eyes start to roll back in my head while you make me give you the filthiest, sluttiest, sloppiest fucking wet-ass blow job anyone in the audience has ever fucking seen. Including me and my girlfriend! And she fucking KNOWS just how sloppy I like it!

A HORRENDOUS fucking concoction of my salivating drool, your intensely virile pre, your thick fucking cock-sweat, and your naturally greasy horse-cock begin to form inside my mouth. So much fucking raw, raunchy liquid gathering in my mouth that it begins to overflow from my trembling lips like a viscous mead brewed from the molten lava fucking juices that fill your herculean nut sack! The thick mead gathers all over your shaft, your pubes, dripping down your long cock, down my chin, down your heavy fucking balls and starting to form a puddle on the floor between your feet as I suck your fucking dick with no end in sight. This is my own personal hell. And based on the way your big sweaty schlong is responding to the insides of my mouth and throat... you're enjoying every. Fucking. Second of it.

Endless... it's fucking endless. My throat is sore, and quivering violently with each and every thrust as you find a brutal, face-fucking rhythm. My eyelids roll to the back of my head. My eyelids flutter uncontrollably. The sounds I'm making more like drowning than moaning at this point. Then... you start fucking faster and faster... until your balls tighten up, you grunt a loud, PRIMAL fucking roar... and you unload ALL of that fucking pent up tension... ALL of that barbaric fucking nut, DIRECTLY DOWN MY THROAT!

"CCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHKKKKK!!!" A loud choke, followed by several gags... then at last... you remove your cock from my mouth with a sloppy wet squelch... and the rest of what I was simply unable to swallow erupts from my mouth and nose, and onto the floor at your feet while I gasp and sputter, tears rolling down my beat-red cheeks.

And riiiiight when I'm at my absolute lowest...

'Oh Skyler... Fuck me... I need you...'

The statement ringing in my head over and over and over... there's no way I just heard what I think I heard... and from who I think it came from... But as you pull my hair and force me to finally look at my girl... my eyes go wide with shocking disbelief... My girl... she's fingerfucking herself like a needy slut... her dress pulled all the way up so her pussy is on full display... but not for me, for you... Her eyes are rolled in pleasure... her big tits heaving up and down at the uncontrolled pleasure... and as you allow me to understand that you've conquered not only me, but my girlfriend as well, you start slowly walking around the ring. Parading me on all fours. Crawling beside you like a useless fucking show pony. You're making an example of me to the world! You're DISPLAYING me as a fucking living, breathing, cum-guzzling trophy for EVERYONE to see from every angle! I crawl beside you for several minutes... whimpering the entire time... watching my girl fucking herself harder and harder every time we take a lap by her... thick globs of your cum still sliding down my chin and onto the mat.

Then... when we circle around my girl one final time, you make sure I'm facing her directly... before you stand in front of me, make me crawl forward slowly, guiding my head in between your legs now dripping with sweat, drool, and cum... and you fucking squeeze harder than you have this entire match to trap me in place. I scream like a fucking pussy, high and undignified now. And I have no choice but watch as my girl finger-blasts herself even fucking HARDER as she hears you promise to piledrive me straight into the end of my fucking career!

Stacked Sky:

Can this shit get any more pathetic? I mean, is there a word for this level of abject whimpering, world ending emasculation? Your scream hits a dog-whistle pitch. My sweaty quads crush your skull like a vise. Your meathead crew watches in horror. You're nothing but my personal fuck-puppet now. Twitching. Struggling. A muscle god dropped to the bottom of the food chain. They're witnessing your extinction. A champion becoming my bitch. My property. My conquest.

The air’s so thick with sweat and pheromones you could wring it out and get drunk off it. I lock eyes with your pathetic crew one by one. Those muscle-bound losers in their matching tank tops. The dumbasses who bet their rent money on you. The shit-talkers who swore you couldn't be beaten. I raise one finger. Wag it slow. Left. Right. Then slice it across my throat dropping the universal sign-you’re fucking dead meat. The crowd fucking erupts. Your boys go pale. Phones shoot up everywhere, screens glowing, all recording your obituary. You see it in their eyes. The exact moment they know you're done. Not just beaten. Not just humiliated. Fucking extinct. A dead man walking. Yesterday's news. Tyler Reign? More like Tyler Reigned.

But you don’t get it. Not yet. You’re twitching and flopping, desperate, thinking you got a chance. Fucking delusional. I grab a fistful of your hair, wrench your head up until we’re nose to nose. Your eyes roll back, unfocused, bloodshot as hell. "Look at me, bitch boy," I growl. "Stay conscious. This ain't the main event yet. Want you remembering this shit forever. Every fucking detail. Payback's a motherfucker." You open your cock-holster to speak. Nothing comes out but spit bubbles and whimpers. Sweet fucking music.

The crowd’s howling. Don’t give a fuck. Got work to do, focused on the task at hand. Wrap my sweaty, veined arms around your waist. Hoist you up like yesterday's garbage. Heavy motherfucker. All useless show muscle, no real power. Your pretty-boy face mashes hard into my throbbing junk. Legs kicking wildly in the air. Arms desperately clinging to my granite waist. Scared little bitch whimpering for mercy. I grab my sweat-soaked singlet with one calloused hand. Stretch that spandex wide open with a savage snap. Let your tear-streaked face slide right into my musky heat. My two massive alpha eggs forced brutally into your gasping mouth, half way down your throat now. You garble and gag pathetically for air, eyes bulging with panic. My fat, veiny rod leaks all over you. Mix of my juice and your spit everywhere. Breathing's tough now, ain't it, champ? Just my personal cock holster now.

I start my parade. Step by step, slow and deliberate, I carry your limp, shattered meat to the ropes. My trophy on display

Your face? Buried in my crotch. Your dignity? Gone forever. Slobber pours outta your cock-holster like a fuckin' faucet. Drenches my singlet. Makes you look pathetic. Your juice-head buddies can't look away. All got their phones out. Recording. Streaming. Posting. Every humiliating second going viral. Your career dying in real-time. My balls on your face. Your pride in the gutter. This shit's permanent now, immortalized, Internet never forgets. Neither will you. Neither will your girl. She's watching too. Getting wet for the real alpha. For me. Not you. Never you again.

I back into the corner. Climb the ropes like I fucking own them. Plant my feet on the bottom rope. Then the middle one. Your pathetic ass dangles upside down. Your head buried deep in my singlet. Choking on my sweaty sack. You swing like a broken pendulum. Helpless. Humiliated. My junk owns your face. “Say goodnight, Show Muscle!” I bark, I launch from the ropes and drop to my knees hard. The ring fucking explodes. The whiplash is nuclear, your head and neck CRACK! rips out of my singlet, shoulders crunching, spine jamming straight down into the mat. The THUD echoes through the entire arena. You flop over, face-down, arms splayed, ass in the air, twitching and drooling and not even pretending to be alive anymore. Your Barbie screams. She knows. Everyone knows. You're Done, Finished. Erased. Deleted. The golden boy just got turned to fuckin' trash. The crowd loses their minds. They wanted blood. I gave them a murder.

I roll you over with my foot, survey the disaster. Your face ruined, swelling and split skin, eyes barely open, lips puffed up. But I’m not done, not even fucking close. I reach down, grab a handful of your trunks, and haul your limp body toward the ropes. You’re just a sack of meat now, all that bravado and muscle shredded in front of everyone you ever tried to impress. I sling you over the top rope, leave you dangling like a sideshow exhibit, arms dead over the cable, head lolling, spit and blood stringing down to the apron. Your eyes flicker to the front row, to your gym bros, to your Barbie, I can literally taste the despair rolling off your body…

Tyler Reign:

Trapped between your crushing legs, you must REALLY be putting on a show for the people, because even with my ears being crushed against the side of my head, I can hear the undulating roars and cheers of the crowd... the endless clicks of cameras flashing... the annoyed, bitterly disappointed lamentations of my gym bros…

'Fuck I've been hyping this guy up this whole time for nothing?'

'Fuck this... this Tyler pussy just cost me a fucking grand goddammit!'

'I'm recording this shit. Gonna sell a front row view to make some money back. Fucking Tyler, what a goddamn loser.'

'Fuck, this Sky dude is alpha as fuck... Wonder if he'd work out with us?'

And I can't even begin to describe what I'm hearing from my girlfriend... your raw display of primal dominance has taken her mind and turned her into a screaming, moaning, wailing, pussy-fingering fuck priestess locked in a senseless, unrelenting state of the most intense heat the female body is capable of. A state I've never once seen her, or any other woman in before this.

I flail my body intensely in every direction I can to try and escape the fucking trash-compactor grip your quads have on my screaming skull. At least... I THINK I'm flailing intensely. The Sisyphean effort exploding through my body and the mind-rattling pain of the sharp strain on my already exhausted muscles make me truly believe I must be just a few more thrusts away from freedom! From escaping the braided steel strength of your iron quads! But looking out from between your legs and catching an ego-crushing view of myself on one of the arena's jumbotrons... and every last bit of my hope comes crashing down, shattering into a million pieces. All of this effort... and my body is barely fucking moving. A shining testament to just how badly you've exhausted me, taken me to my physical limit.... and now... as you loosen your quads, gather a fistful of my sweaty hair, and pull me up to a wobbling standing position, only able to remain upright thanks to the grip you have on my locks... you once again prepare to dog-walk my ass right up to the absolute zenith of my physical limit... and pull me far beyond it on a fucking leash.

Your hot breath invades my nostrils as you instruct me to stay conscious for what you're about to do to me... to hyper focus on every last fucking detail... to commit every moment to memory and lock it all in a vault to be replayed over and over and over. And something you say hits me a few moments later... 'this ain't even the main event yet.'

I open my mouth to beg... to ask you once again for mercy. Nothing but a high, moaning gurgle as your hot batch still clings to the inside of my mouth, bubbling slightly as I drool. Then, you flip me by my waist into a standing 69 position. The now all too familiar bulge in your singlet mashing into my face. The smell... a potent, eye-watering miasma of your post-nut glory. Then you decide to take it a step farther.

Your hand wedges in between my face and your fat Grey bulge to pull the wet spandex out and away from your body, allowing the odorous, piping-hot, pheromone-soaked stew you've been brewing down there to zombify my fucking mind...

invading my helpless nostrils... steaming up inside my nostrils as you drop my head down to marinate in your potently musky sauna... BAKING my entire fucking face against your slimy, post-fuck cock as I bask and cook inside your boiling oven of testosterone before you allow your singlet to snap back into place against your body, locking me inside my reeking-hot prison.

I'm so distracted by the new dark hell I'm living in that I don't even notice us moving. The sounds I'm making while gargling your balls inside your singlet enough to make the most stoic man laugh his ass off. The next thing I know, we're in the air... then it finally happens. *BOOOOOM* The echo reverberates around the entire arena as my skull, neck, shoulders, and spine seem to compress to a single point for a moment. And just like that... I'm taken from a rag doll, to a fucking pile of waste with no hint of resistance left.

Staying conscious just as you command, the very next thing I see is my girl, now with her tits out of her dress, pinching her nipples as she shoves 4 entire fingers in and out of her leaking pussy like a piston. And now, I find myself uselessly draped over the top rope.

Stacked Sky:

I strut around the ring like a fuckin' king. Chest out. Muscles glistening. Every eye locked on me. Crowd foaming at the mouth. Your girl's nipples poking through her top like fuckin' missiles. I grab those neon-blue shorts and YANK 'em down so hard the stitches pop. BOOM! Your pale, bruised ass cheeks hanging out for the whole arena. Cameras flashing. You squeal like a stuck pig. High-pitched. Broken. Those pathetic ass muscles quiver when you try to clench. Soft as baby shit. Fuckin' embarrassing. I snatch your ankles one by one. Peel those boots off slow. Toss 'em into the crowd. Your sorry meat sack dangles, dick shrivelled to nothing, balls tight against your body. I spread those cheeks wide with my thumbs. Hawk up a thick wad of spit. Watch it stretch from my lips before it lands dead center in your crack. Slides down slow like fuckin' molasses. You shudder. Moaning. No fucking idea the hell that's about to rain down.

You fuckin' whimper my name like a bitch. "S-Sky..." Tears and snot all over your pretty-boy face. Pathetic. "That's SIR to you, fuckboy!" I slam my palm across your ass so hard the front row jumps. CRACK! Your whole body jerks. Another red handprint for your collection. The crowd goes wild, phones out, capturing your shattered dignity.

I leave you hanging like the world’s saddest wind chime and hop down to the floor. Pathetic meat on a hook. The crowd parts like I'm Moses or some shit. Your Barbie's mascara running down her cheeks. Eyes glazed over. Hungry. I grab that bleach-blonde hair. Yank her head back till her throat's exposed. Slam my tongue so deep she feels it in her cunt. Shove my free hand up her dress, thumb on her clit, stretching, she bucks against my palm, slut’s dripping down my wrist, moaning so loud it drowns out the crowd.

I step back. "Strip me, bitch." My voice cuts like a blade. She yanks my soaked singlet down with trembling fingers. That shit hits the floor. My rock-hard nine inches springs free. Slaps against my abs. Pre-cum already beading. Your slut's eyes bulge. Jaw drops. Pussy dripping. I shove her ass back on that cheap plastic seat. Crowd roaring like animals. I spit on my shaft. Slap it between those fake tits. Silicon valley. Warm flesh squeezes my cock. I grab her melons. Mash them together. Create a tight, sweaty tunnel. Her nipples standing like thumbtacks. I thrust harder. Faster. Her tongue darts out. Desperate. Begging. Lapping at my purple crown with each push. Whining like a bitch in heat. Your woman. Your prize piece. Now just my fuck toy.

I pull back and let the world see her, ruined and leaking, slumped in her seat, begging for more.

I point at her, then at you, then back at her. “Watch what happens next,” I snarl, and her thighs go shaky as she gawks at your pathetic, suspended body. I turn back to the ring, my 9” angry as fuck, but not before making sure every single nerd in the front row is still streaming. I want this on every timeline on the planet. I want your humiliation on a loop for the next decade…

Tyler Reign:

Dangling over the ropes facing the crowd, I'm given a completely unobstructed view of the audience now. More phones than I can count. Camera flashes igniting the dark arena like gunfire. Members of production crew walking around the ring getting footage of the massacre, complete with extreme high-definition close-ups. A champion made into a bitch in 4K. I can see my gym bros in the front row. Some of them with their phones out too, some of them turning their heads in shame for a moment before turning back to keep looking, unable to resist the slow, methodical, ritualistic humiliation you're dragging me through. The puppet show you're putting on with my ruined body simply too entertaining to miss. My girl... she's barely human anymore. She's a concentrated pleasure machine, a marionette completely enslaved by the rancid lust you've filled her up with.

It all happens so fast after that. Your fingers around my waistband, then... *RRRRIP!* "uhnnggg... no... please..." I mutter through swelling, lightly bloody lips as I feel a sudden draft against my bare ass cheeks! A shriek from the crowd, followed by uncontrolled laughter. My cock dangles free, hanging down limply, lifeless, weak, and unimpressive after what you've been swinging around the ring tonight. I tremble in shame, and then I feel my legs being lifted before my boots and socks are removed one after the other and tossed into the crowd. Here I am. The former champion of the ring. The king. The fucking alpha male. Stripped naked and dangling from the ropes. I'm whimpering and protesting uselessly when my ass cheeks are suddenly spread apart...

...no... fuck no... not this...

A warm, wet sensation against my exposed crack as I hear the sound of you spitting. It slides down slow and coats my hole, now quivering, trembling, and winking in panic for you.

"Unngg... fuck... Sky.... please... you fucking win... *SMACK* AAAAAAAHHHHH!" An unrestrained spank on my completely exposed ass! I feel my cheek burning, a fire that makes my whole body contort weakly in pain. I look up to the jumbotron to see a close-up of the damage... my bobbling, sweaty ass displayed all over the arena, now branded and marked with the firm, reddening handprint of the man who's in the middle of destroying me. Like a fucking autograph. Like a god damn signature of ownership right on my bare ass! I can only continue to wail in pain in response to your next degree. For me, it's not Sky. It's Sir.

Finally... after the most brutal torment... the most merciless humiliation this arena has ever bore witness to, you hop out of the ring and onto the floor. Your bare feet smacking loudly against the concrete. I pray to whatever God or Devil was merciful enough to make you finally end the match. I hang there basking in defeat, and in your pheromones, your scent still lingering on me like a mask. When suddenly... my heart fucking drops to the bottom of my stomach. You don't make your way to the entrance ramp... no... you make your way towards my fucking girl.

"unngg... Sky... what are you..." Still not fully grasping the 'SIR' rule you just gave me. Then... I watch uselessly as you pull her hair back, and shove your tongue authoritatively straight down her throat, making out with her wet and sloppy before your hand shoots up between her legs to stroke her dripping wet cunt. No... this isn't even making out... you're tongue-fucking her mouth... and she's powerless to resist your raw display of masculine sexuality, leaking even more at the very chance to experience your physicality. Now I start to buck a little more in the ropes, still unable to free myself, but with a fresh, new desperation in my struggle, and something vaguely resembling a set of balls in my voice. "Sky! I'm gonna... kick your ass!" The hesitation and self-doubt clear as day in my voice. "Get off her! ...Fuck... Sky you're dead! Unngg... She's MINE!" You make direct eye contact with me for a moment while your tongue fills her moaning mouth, and you decide to put on an even better show for me.

'Strip me, bitch'

I hear your words over and over again in my mind. Last guy that called my girl a bitch ended up with a nice set of medical bills and a luxurious hospital room stay for a couple weeks. Even I couldn't get permission to use that word, despite telling her how much it would turn me on in the bedroom to degrade her like that. No. She was way too proud for that. So I expect her demeanour to shift when that word escapes your lips... but no... instead, she excitedly, and enthusiastically OBEYS you! Suddenly your powerful ass-cheeks, muscled like a marble carving of a Roman God come into view in front of me as my girl pulls your singlet down your sweaty legs. You step out of it, look back at me for a moment with a satisfied smile to make sure I'm watching, and you push her down into her seat, and mount her like you're about to give her a fucking lap dance. I can only see your naked backside from this position, but a single glance at the jumbotron lets me know exactly what's going on...

...You're titty-fucking my girl in front of everyone.

"SKY!" I shout desperately, unable to even follow it up with any kind of threat as I'm left in utter shock. I watch this go on for a few moments, until finally you dismount my girl, leaving her in the chair a thirsty, NEEDY mess of gasps and body fluids. And I hear you say, 'watch what happens next' ... then, my heart leaps from the pit of my stomach all the way into my throat as you slooowly turn around with the biggest, meanest, juiciest fucking boner I've ever seen, and you start making your way back towards the ring, eyes locked on me the entire time, every footstep like thunder in my ears as you get closer and closer with that fucking weapon between your legs at full mast. You may have forced me to get it rock hard... but the thrill of publicly macking on my girl in front of me... well clearly that's a whole new level of aroused for you.

My eyes go wide in panic as every step makes your fat, veiny, billy-club slap with an angry thud against your sweaty abs. Every movement of your body makes that throbbing horse-cock descend dramatically under its own weight to slap against your thighs before bouncing back up to slap your stomach. At this point... it sounds like you have THREE fucking footsteps!

Left... *SMACK* ...Right... *SMACK* ...Left... *SMACK* ...Right... *SMACK*

This was your fucking plan the entire time... use my girlfriend to give you the biggest, meanest, angriest fucking ass-destroyer of all time... and then make your way back to pay me a visit in the ring with it...

"...UNnggG... SKY! I..." Threatening you the way I was just a few moments ago? Disobeying your order to call you 'Sir' from now on? Well... it was a whole lot fucking easier before you started walking towards me with 9 insatiable inches of snarling, drooling, THROBBING thunder-cock slapping against your stomach. "I FUCKING SURRENDER! PLEASE!... S... S...

...SIIIRRRR!!!"

A final glance over to my girlfriend...

...she's huffing your dripping-wet singlet while she fucks herself knuckle-deep.

Stacked Sky:

I don’t rush the spectacle. Slide under the rope slow. Chin up. Chest out. Nine inches of hard, grave-digger cock swinging between my legs. Veins popping. Tip dripping, leaving a snail trail on the canvas. I stalk towards you, savouring the parade of humiliation. Make you wait for it. Make sure every fucking camera gets a good look at what's about to wreck you. This ring? Mine. This crowd? Mine. Your girl? Already mine. And you, bitch? Been mine since the bell rang.

Look at you. Still dangling over the rope, arms and head like fresh meat, arms and head limp, back arched like a street whore. Ass up pink and raw. You try to turn away as I approach, but your body won’t answer. Your ass just twitching, desperate to hide but with nowhere left. Sweat drips down your crack. You whimper, raw and guttural, so exposed and broken it makes my veiny cock throb harder against my abs. "Please, Sir, no, not like this, PLEASE!" The last word cracks like thin ice, your voice shot from screaming. The crowd loses their shit, howling like hungry wolves. They fucking love this. Big man Tyler. The peoples champ, the top dog gone full bitch.

I step behind you, my shadow swallowing your broken ass like an eclipse. “You think you’re still in the game?” I growl, low so it’s just for you. “You’re done, Reign.”

I spit on my fingers, once, twice, three times, slick ‘em up until they’re dripping, then line up and stuff two knuckles into your hole. You try to clench, boy pussy resisting, but all it does is make my fingers sink in even tighter. I piston them in and out, mean and steady, your ass taking my fingers like it’s hungry. I let the crowd see everything, working you like a fucking oil drill, twisting, pumping while you whimper and drool. You sob like a bitch. Phones everywhere. Every gym rat. Every ring slut. Every muscle-head, every fucking person capturing your destruction. Forever. Your career bleeds out while I finger-fuck you into oblivion.

Yank my digits from your hole, line my throbbing python up, spit on your hole. "Take it like the bitch you are." My cock throbs in my hand. I shove it in rough. You squirm. My chest slams against your back, slick with sweat. I wrap an arm around your throat. Squeezing. Those gym muscles? Useless now. I jerk your neck back. Bury my meat to the hilt. Your ass gives up. Opens for me. I drill you like the locker room slut you always were. Fans go wild. Kiss that belt goodbye, pretty boy. My balls slap your boy pussy with each thrust. You whimper and gag, nothing more than a goddamn joke.

My free hand swings around finding your dick. Fuck me. Hard as concrete. Twitching like crazy. Leaking like a faucet. Pulsing in my grip. "Look at this shit!" I holler, hoisting you up for the crowd. "Bitch is loving every second!" I pump you rough. Time it with my thrusts. My meat wrecks your boy pussy. My hand owns your junk. Every eye in the place watches you break.

My hand off your dick, “Fucker, finish yourself off for these nice folks” I shout, “Now!” I snatch your limp wrist. Force it down to your twitching dick. "Stroke that pathetic nub, bitch." My words slice through the arena. You hesitate. Wrong fucking move. My forearm crushes your windpipe. Squeeze till your tongue sticks out. Your face goes purple. Eyes nearly pop. "FUCKING DO IT NOW!" You can barely wheeze. But you get it. Your hand jerks frantically. Tears run down your cheeks. Snot bubbles from your nose. Your fist works your meat in perfect time with my savage pounding. Like your body knows its place. Like you were made to be my ring slut.

You let out a pathetic scream. Back arches. Eyes roll back. Your hips shove forward. Your hand a blur jerking, You shoot! Expecting a bull load of cum, but only a pathetic weak-ass load just puddles on the mat. Thin. Watery. Pitiful. Clear like piss. Front row points. Laughs. Your face burns red. Fucking priceless. You're done, that dick shrivelling up, but I ain't. I keep jackhammering that blown-out hole. My cock destroys you. Hammering. Pounding. Breaking. You collapse forward. Can't even hold yourself up. Weak bitch. Seeing you broken like this makes my dick throb harder. Nothing beats owning your ass completely.

My nut's coming. No mercy now. I drill you harder. Each thrust could snap your spine. My sack pounds your pussy raw. I'm breathing heavy. Sweat pours off my six-pack. Drips onto your pathetic shaking ass. This memory's permanent, bitch. Your career's fucking dead. I crank the choke tight. Wrench your head back. Make you watch the big screen. See that face? That's you. Broken. Ruined. Gasping. Everyone's watching you become my bitch forever.

I’m relentless with this moaning bitch, my horse dick battling with your boy pussy. My man tool taking over every inch of that sloppy hole. My chest heaves, balls churn, and face reddens as I let out a low, guttural moan. My body tenses, then starts to tremble, then goes rigid. In total ecstasy, I pull my hips back - SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. Rope after rope of my alpha load blasts inside of you. My mouth hangs open, gasping in pleasure. My grip around you tightens, you’re not going anywhere. I grin, and lean in for another thrust...

I collapse onto your back, cock pulsing inside of you as the crowd goes apeshit. I could stay lodged inside you for much longer, but the champion has duties to fulfill. I press on your back, drop the choke, pushing myself back, slowly pull out. SMACK! I give that sexy ass a spank and shuffle to the side.

I yank your pathetic ass off the ropes. Got a fistful of your hair. Down you go, bitch. CRACK! Knees hit canvas like fucking gunshots. My palm slams your face forward. Sweaty foot grinds your cheek into the mat. Can't move now, can ya?

Mic gets tossed my way. I catch it one-handed. Position it right by your wrecked hole. The arena goes dead silent. Every eye locked on your destroyed ass. That pink pucker twitches like it's begging for round two. My thick load starts seeping out. Just a trickle at first. Then, fuck!, a flood of my cream pours out. White globs slide down your sack. The speakers blast every wet, sloppy sound. Your ass talks more shit now than your mouth ever did. Drip. Gurgle. Pop. The ultimate fucking interview.

I whip around. Fuck me. Your meathead buddies all jacking it. Fists working their pathetic dicks. Eyes dead and hungry. Mouths wide open. "Sky! Sky! Sky!" The chant echoes. Some friends, huh? Yesterday's spotters. Today's dick-pullers. My new fanclub. My property. Just like your broken ass.

Your fucking Slut still ringside. Barbie doll. Platinum blonde with dick-sucking lips. Tits like watermelons straining that tiny top. Eyes glazed over. Pussy dripping down those fake-tanned thighs. She's huffing my sweaty singlet like it's fucking cocaine. Tongue flicking the crotch where my monster hung. Desperate bitch. "Girl, you wanna worship God's Gift?" I grab my thick python at the base. Veins bulging. Still slick with your shame. I windmill that meat hammer around and around. Slapping against my thighs. The crowd loses it. Fuck! Your girl can't take it. She scrambles into the ring like a heat-crazed animal. Dress ripped to shreds. Massive tits bouncing free. Nipples hard as diamonds. Nothing but a cock-hungry fucking whore.

Tylers Reign:

Every step you take, every thud of your feet against the floor as you stalk towards me with barbaric intentions, every audible slap of your fat, hard, dripping wet meat against your body as it throbs and dribbles, eager for the fucking of a lifetime, makes my heart pound in my chest harder and harder, until I feel like it's going to explode out of my body. "SKY! Fuck... no... SIR! PLEASE NO! ANYTHING BUT THIS, SIR! I'LL DO ANYTHING ELSE YOU WANT! PLEASE!!! YOU WIN!!! YOU FUCKING WIN!!!" My pleas do nothing to stop your slow, methodical death-march towards my trapped body. Before I realize what I'm even saying anymore, you've already disappeared behind me. Your domineering shadow and your palpable body heat behind me the only tell-tale signs that you're directly behind me. Well that, and the fingers you suddenly shove up my ass.

"AHHHH!!! NOOO!" You work those strong fingers in and out of my asshole with no regard for my humiliation... in fact... the humiliation is the entire point, and it's about to get worse than I could possibly imagine. With a sudden sensation of your wet spit directly on my exposed asshole, I feel the piping hot mushroom head of your dripping cock press up against my clenching hole for only a moment. Nothing more than a fleeting moment... before you shove your entire, thunderous cock into me while wrapping your bulging bicep around my throat to force me to arch my back so you can bury yourself ALL the way down to the fucking base.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! FFUUUUUUCCCKKKK!!!" In front of me are nothing but cameras, jeering faces, the shocking visage of my gym bros jerking off, and of course my girl... literally leaking all over the floor as she bites down on your heavily used singlet with her eyes rolling in the back of her head. And what exactly am I supposed to do in a situation like this? Well, you make sure to alleviate me of any confusion I have as you order me to jerk off to it! You force my hand around my own cock, pathetic in size compared to yours, as you yell at me to start stroking. I hesitate for only a moment, a moment too many. Your rock hard bicep flexes powerfully, bulging up into my neck until I can't breathe... until I feel my windpipe buckle and warp under your command. And that's all it takes. I, the fucking 'champion' Tyler Reign, start furiously jerking my hard cock at your command while you fuck my goddamn brains out.

After I finally cum a useless, dribbling load onto the floor directly outside of the ring, you show absolutely no signs of stopping your assault. I may be finished, but you've made it your mission to show me what real stamina looks, and FEELS like! This goes on for MINUTE, after MINUTE, after agonizing MINUTE... your skewering horse-dick an endless fucking piston, a well-oiled machine of pure virility, a perfect Godly design of sexual conquest. Until... after a goddamn lifetime of this torture…your perfect pace begins to pick up against the prostate that was already fucked into an absolute pulp half a fucking hour ago…and your body begins to seize while your grip around my throat tightens harder than ever before. I can't even scream as you start to unload your fucking volcanic cum into my asshole... by the time you've arrived, my mind has been locked in a state of drooling, zombified, fuck-drunk stupor for at least 10 fucking minutes. Even while fully lucid and aware of what's being done to me, to call me 'conscious' at this point would be generous. Is a fuck-toy conscious?

When you finally finish exploding your hot, viscous dominance up my conquered, quivering asshole, you stay lodged deep inside of me for at least an extra minute. Just because you can. Just to make sure every camera in that room gets what they need to make it clear what happened to the former champion tonight. All at the hands, and the cock, of the indomitable Sky. As you sloooowly pull your shimmering, glistening cock meat out of my flushed, bright-pink asshole, my drool reaches all the way down to the floor in front of my feet before your cock head finally squelches out with an audible *POP*. My ass cheek is lit on fire as your wail a cruel spank against it before throwing me down to the ground, ass up high for everyone to witness, and plant that sweaty, musky bare foot right on my cheek and spank me some more. Other than cries, whimpers, moans, and gurgles... I don't even bother begging GOD for mercy anymore. I know that whatever Sky wants, Sky takes.

One of the men at the announcer's table is just fucking DYING to know what depraved things are being said in the ring, so he takes his mic, waves to get your attention while you're stepping on my face, and tosses the mic inside the ring! My ass is slooooowwly leaking small trails of your load, and you know what's about to happen. A cruel smirk on your face, you put your finger up to your lips to hush the audience, and like God commanding his followers, the entire arena goes DEAD fucking silent. Enough to hear a pin drop. But a pin dropping is far from the audial treat you plan on giving your new fans. Instead, you hold the mic directly up to my trembling asshole for a few seconds... and I can't hold your load in anymore... Your thick, white, piping hot load starts to EXPLODE out of my asshole and dribble down my balls and legs with a loud squelch directly into the mic! And the audience ERUPTS in fucking laughter at the former champion! This footage will be on the fucking internet until the end of time and beyond. And just as I think I've reached the absolute peak of humiliation and emasculation... You hold the mic up to your grinning lips and speak: "Girl, you wanna worship God's Gift?" The laughing of the crowd shifts instantly to an ear shattering cacophony of 'WOOOS' and whistles as the arena realizes they really are being treated to the greatest show in entertainment history. I whimper on the floor beneath you, a visible puddle of your cum now accumulated between my knees on the mat directly under my ass. "Sir... please... not like this!" And with the mic still up to your lips you simply state with all the deserved arrogance of a GOD, "Thaaaaat's right..." As my girl stumbles into the ring like her life depends on it!

Stacked Sky:

I shout into the Mic “You think you know humiliation? Reign, you haven't even tasted the appetizer.”

I'm standing over your wrecked, broken body, foot planted on your cheek, making sure the entire goddamn arena sees their hero, their champion, their people's fucking king, split wide and leaking my juice like some dollar-store rent boy. They came to see a wrestling match, but what they're getting is a fucking sex crime in slow motion.

My foot's grinding your face into the mat, the stench of gym sweat and spunk overwhelming your senses. Your tongue lolls out, drool pooling on the canvas and mixing with your tears, your nose flattened and streaked with my pre. When I finally yank my foot off you, I don't give you a second to breathe. I slap your head and shout, "Fucking clean my feet!".  My toes fill your vision. I shove the Mic down to catch every pathetic sound. You open your mouth like a dog at dinner, and you go to fucking town. Sloppy, desperate, tongue working between my toes with more passion than I ever saw in you during the match. You lick sweat, you lap up blood, you even eat the cum that's stringing down my heel. Fucking nasty. You’re desperate for it. This is all you got left. Not even a man anymore. Just my personal doormat with a tongue.

The crowd? Forget it. They're animals. There's not a phone in the room that isn't recording you degrade yourself, not a single person whose jaw hasn't hit the floor. You hear the chants? "Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!" They know it. I know it. Deep down, you know it. This is the only way you get to exist now, under my foot.

But then it gets better. Or worse, depending on whose side you're on. Your girlfriend, your "ride or die," the girl you brought ringside to show off your win? She's crawling to me,  leaving a wet trail on the mat. Dress torn, tits swinging. She doesn't look up at you, not once. You're less than dirt to her now. All she wants, all she NEEDS, is my cock.

Barbie's hands are on it before I even have to ask, double-fisted, working my shaft like it’s the lever that will save her life. Her mouth is open, tongue out, pussy so wet it’s dripping down her thighs. She wraps two hands around my dick, still not enough, can't even close them. Not even close. Her eyes go wide. She gets it now. Gets what a real man feels like. Her shock? That shit's better than Viagra. I'm granite now. Diamond-hard. Ready to wreck her world while you watch.

Your nose is still mashed into the canvas, but your eyes are up, watching her work me like a pro. Look at Barbie struggle. My dick's too much for her. Her fuckin' neck swells up like a bullfrog. She's drowning in my meat. Spit dangles off her chin like wet spider webs. The slut can't get enough. She retches. Gags. Still comes back begging. Her eyes disappear into her skull. This bitch is in heaven while you watch in hell.

I look down, your tears only make me hornier. I press my big toe back onto your tongue and force you to keep licking, smearing the taste of both your shame and her spit all over your taste buds. "Not done yet, bitch," I snarl, just loud enough for the cameras to catch, and then I grab a handful of your Barbie's platinum hair so hard she squeals. "You call this a blowjob? My last fanboy sucked better than that."

She looks up at me, her bloodshot eyes beg harder than her mouth ever could. Spit connects her swollen lips to my shaft in glistening ropes. "Please," she fucking whimpers, voice cracking like she's thirteen again, "I want it. Need it. Wreck my throat with that monster." Her neck bulges, veins popping blue against her fake-tan skin. She's gagging, choking, drooling like a rabid bitch in heat. And still coming back for more. Tyler's girl. Not anymore.

I laugh, roll my hips, and slap my cockhead across her tongue, leaving a streak of pre-cum across her lips like a warpaint. I angle my hips so everyone can see her struggle, see her jaw unhinge and her mouth fill. She's not giving up. She can't. You can barely watch, but you can't look away, either. You're so fucking owned you don't even try to interrupt.

Meanwhile, your own dick is still half-hard, twitching on the canvas. The crowd notices. They zoom in, point, laugh at you while your girlfriend gets the real deal. "You see this, Reign? This is what a real man looks like. You lost, you bitch. You fucking lost everything." I push Barbie's head down, force-feed her inch after inch, until her nose is in my pubes and she's making these wild, animal choking sounds. For a second, she looks like she's going to puke, but she just drools even more. The crowd's gone silent. All anyone hears is her throat muscles fighting my dick and your pathetic whimpering. Like some sad-ass duet nobody paid to hear.

I pull out, wipe my cock-head on her cheek, and then flick the spit right onto you. "Boys, this is what happens to a loser," I shout, and the whole arena erupts. You hear your name, but not as a champion. As a punchline.

I look down at you, still face down, still licking, and start flexing my free arm, showing off for the crowd and the cameras. "Get up, pussy. Kiss the winner's cock." You're slow, broken, humiliated, but you do it. You crawl over, tongue out like a dog, and you worship the very thing that destroyed you.

Barbie's watching you now, her mouth open, her eyes crazed with lust and self-hate. She starts jacking me again, faster, tighter, using the spit and drool as lube, and you lock eyes with her as she does it. She leans in, kisses you, and feeds you a glob of my cum. You swallow it like fucking mother’s milk. You don't even spit it out. The crowd is chanting again, louder than ever.

I'm ready to finish this shit. I grab the back of your neck, push you into her, and make you both fight over who gets the next taste of me. You lap at my shaft, she tongues my balls, and the whole time I'm shouting, trashing you both, calling you every name in the book and inventing some new ones just for the hell of it.

Barbie's manicured fingers grip my shaft like it's her last lifeline. Her tongue flicks desperately against the veiny underside. You're on the opposite side, eyes bloodshot, face streaked with tears and sweat. Both your tongues meet at the tip. Fighting. Competing. Two broken bitches sharing one king. My pre-cum strings between your mouths like spider silk. The crowd howls. Cameras flash. Your reputation dies with each desperate lick. I grab both your heads. Smash them together. "Faster, sluts. Work for it." Your slobber mingles. Drips down my balls.

Barbie lunges first. Throat-deep on my cock. Gagging. Drooling. Then you shove her off. Take your turn. Your eyes water instantly. Can't handle it. Pathetic. She yanks your hair. Reclaims her prize. Back and forth. Two broken bitches. One king's dick. The crowd's going wild. Cameras catching everything. Your reputation? Dead. Your career? Over. Your girl? Mine now. You both fighting like starving dogs over the same bone. My bone. Neither worthy. Both desperate.

My nuts tighten like fists. Too full. Ready to burst. I feel it coming. Nut-cannon about to blow. Head snaps back. Teeth clenched. ARGH! I flood your Barbie's throat. One shot. Two. Three. Four. Five. Too much for her slut mouth. Jizz shoots from her nose. Foams between her lips. I rip out, still spurting. Aim at your bitch face. Glaze you like a donut. Cram my still-throbbing meat into your mouth. Force-feed you the last drops. Make you taste your girl on my dick. You swallow everything. Broken. Owned. Finished.

The crowd loses their shit as I strut away. My monster still swinging between my legs. Thick. Veiny. Still dripping. I grab my singlet. Don't even put it on. Just drape it over my shoulder. My abs glisten under the lights. Eight perfect blocks. Crowd can't get enough. I jump down from the ring. Your boys rush me. Not to fight. To worship. They're screaming my name now. Forget you ever existed. I'm their new god.

Published: 2026-04-10, viewed 156 times.