Forced Cum Federation

Riwam: The ring lights dim with the announcement "A no holds barred fight - Riwam vs Daisuke - its gonna be brutal . Let's have our fighters" The lights brighten up and the music plays

Daisuke_Sekimoto: The heavy bass beats vibrated through my eardrums as Korakuen Hall erupted in a deafening roar. As I emerged on the ramp, clad in my pitch-black gear, hands from the audience stretched out from every direction, desperate to touch my steel-like physique. I pushed through the vortex of frenzy, advancing down the aisle with each step firmly confirming the feel of the arena. "The treasure of the Japanese ring, the Muscle Monster, Daisuke Sekimoto has entered!!" With the announcer’s roar at my back, I grabbed the top rope and vaulted effortlessly into the ring. To overwhelm the spectators on all sides, I flexed my log-like biceps to their limit and displayed my massive thighs that seemed ready to burst through my black trunks. Slapping my knee pads to baring my fighting spirit, I waited with a cold, piercing gaze for the young beast, Riwam, to make his appearance.

Daisuke_Sekimoto:

Riwam: The lights dimmed suddenly—then cut to black. For a split second, the roaring crowd fell into a strange, electric silence… anticipation hanging thick in the air. Then— BOOM. A deep, distorted bassline hit like a shockwave, not just heard but felt, rattling the very bones of Korakuen Hall. The screen flickered to life with chaotic static before locking onto a single image: a pair of eyes… unblinking… feral. A low, almost inhuman growl echoed through the arena. Out of the darkness, I stepped onto the stage. No flashy pose. No wasted motion. Just presence. Clad in dark, battle-worn gear, my shoulders rolled forward slightly, neck loose, like a predator sizing up its territory. My gaze locked immediately onto the ring—onto you. No acknowledgment of the crowd, though their reaction surged anyway, a mix of awe and unease. Each step down the ramp was deliberate. Heavy. Controlled. Like I wasn’t entering a match… I was entering a hunt. I stopped halfway. Cracked my neck once to the side. Then continued. Sliding under the bottom rope, I rose slowly to my full height, never breaking eye contact. The air between us tightened instantly—your raw, seasoned power against my cold, coiled intensity. Circling once, I tested the canvas with the ball of my foot… then stopped dead center. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Sekimoto…” I muttered, voice low but cutting through the noise. I raised a hand— Not to greet. To beckon. “Show me why they call you a monster.” I dropped into stance, knees bent, arms loose but ready… the tension snapping into place like a loaded spring. The bell hadn’t even rung yet— —and already, it felt like the ring might not survive what was about to happen.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: Ding, ding, ding! The sharp ring of the bell signaled the start of a brutal physical war. I bounced my 120kg frame lightly, closing the distance toward the center of the ring. Beneath my pitch-black trunks, muscles prepped to slaughter my prey rippled with heavy-duty intensity. "Feel the power of a monster... and carve it into your soul...!" With a fearless smirk, I extended my log-like arms to initiate a collar-and-elbow tie-up. "They've locked up! The Muscle Monster vs. the Young Beast—whose power will reign supreme?!" As the announcer's roar echoed through the hall, the giant monitors replayed the ferocious entrance scenes of both men. The primal howls of the crowd surged like a tremor from beneath our feet as our raging bodies finally collided head-on.

Riwam: I grip your neck with a crushing force, my fingers digging into the muscle like iron claws, the weight of my palms pressing into your collarbone as if trying to split it. My body leans forward, the pressure of my hold tightening with every heartbeat, the crowd's roar a thunderous wave that reverberates through my bones, their voices a chaotic symphony of frenzy and lust. I bend you down, my back arching as I lower you to the mat, the feel of your skin against mine a slick, electrifying contrast, your breath hitching in your throat as my fingers pry against your spine, each movement a slow, deliberate act of domination. My legs shift, my knee rising like a pendulum, the impact of my thigh slamming into your skull a thunderclap that cracks through the air, the sound echoing in the arena like a signal for the war to begin. You stagger, your head dazing, your body trembling beneath the force of my strike, the crowd's primal howls swelling as if feeding off the raw energy of our clash. I step back, my chest heaving, my sweat dripping down my neck, the weight of the moment hanging in the charged atmosphere, the lights above flickering with the intensity of our struggle, the giant monitors capturing every detail of my rage, every ripple of my muscles, every breath I take as I wait for you to rise, to fight, to feel the power of the Young Beast press against your soul.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: A shock pierced my skull, sending sparks through my vision and a spray of saliva into the air. On the verge of collapsing, I held my ground with the sheer pride of a "Monster." Anchoring my hazy consciousness with pure aggression, I lunged from a low stance, driving my rock-hard shoulder forward and forcibly grabbing your powerful thighs. "......You're not getting away...!!" Transforming into a 120kg human tank, I crushed your crotch—bulging beneath your tight gear—directly from the front, using every ounce of my weight to plow you down onto the canvas.

Riwam: I stumble back and groan in pain - move my hands to my bulge. You skull driven hard into my crotch, clutching my balls I walk back and I throw my body back into the ropes and gain momentum. I fly mid run and come in kicking you in your chest , both my heels land, impacting your pecs and you back.I jump instantly get back up and walk to you. I grab on your ankles and spread your legs wide and smash my legs between your legs

Daisuke_Sekimoto: A powerful strike, fueled by the rope's momentum, pierced my chest, sending my 120kg frame flying helplessly onto my back. Before I could even recover from the impact, your powerful fingers gripped my ankles and ruthlessly pried my legs wide apart. "......Gah! A-aaaaaghh—!!" Your heel slammed directly into my vitals, driving the fabric of my black trunks deep and ravaging my crotch without mercy. The agony was so intense I clutched my groin with both hands, letting out a primal scream that echoed through the hall. "The Muscle Monster is in agony! Riwam’s heartless strike has perfectly captured the vitals!!" As the announcer roared, the giant monitors displayed the moment my trunks were crushed under your heel, replaying the devastation in vivid slow motion.

Riwam: I tease your dick, my fingers tracing its length with deliberate, slow strokes, the slickness of your skin a contrast to the roughness of my grip, my touch a mix of tenderness and cruelty, each movement a promise of more. I rub your balls, my palm pressing against their sensitive skin, the pressure building with every press, the sensation a primal, electric thrill that courses through my veins, my breath catching as I feel the weight of your vulnerability, your body trembling beneath my hands, your groan escaping your lips like a broken whisper. I lift you up, my arms wrapping around your waist, your legs dangling, your weight a heavy burden in my grasp, the arena's heat pressing against my skin as I carry you toward the corner, the crowd’s roar a deafening chant that swells with every step, their eyes locked on the spectacle of my strength, their lust a palpable force that thrashes against the air. I throw you into the turnbuckles, the impact a thunderous crack as your back hits the metal, your body arching, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the hall, the monitors capturing the moment in slow motion, your form a blur of pain and surrender, my hands gripping your shoulders as I lean in, my breath hot against your ear, the weight of my dominance a suffocating promise, the arena alive with the primal energy of our clash, the air thick with sweat and the scent of raw, unrelenting power.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: Riwam's powerful fingers toyed relentlessly with my crotch, and through the fabric of my black trunks, an inescapable pleasure threatened to burn through my brain. I gritted my teeth, desperately trying to suppress any unseemly cries, but the persistent touch against my vitals forced muffled, agonized moans—"......Ngh, mmm, nnuu...!!"—from the back of my throat, as if my very sanity were leaking out. In response to your dominance, my length swelled beneath my trunks, pushing the fabric up like a tent, becoming rock-hard and painfully thick. "The Muscle Monster screams in humiliation! Faced with Riwam’s technique, even Sekimoto can do nothing but arch his body in agony!!" As the announcer roared, I was pinned against the steel corner, finding myself in a desperate, absolute crisis right from the opening moments of the match.

Riwam: You let out a strangled gasp, your head snapping back against the padding. I pull back just enough to drive a series of rapid-fire, agonizingly short-range headbutts into your forehead. Crack. Crack. Crack. The world has to be spinning for you now, the overhead lights blurring into streaks of white. "Wake up, Sekimoto!" I grab your head, my fingers tangling in your hair to force you to look at me, then I suddenly drop. I hook my arms behind your massive thighs, lifting your 120kg frame with a primal roar of effort. I’m not throwing you—I’m driving you. I sprint across the ring, your weight heavy on my shoulders, and powerbomb you with soul-shattering force directly into the center of the canvas. The ring boards groan and flex, the sound like a gunshot. As you bounce off the mat, gasping for the air that's been forced from your lungs, I don't move away. I drop into a mount, my knees pinning your log-like biceps to the floor, and I look down at your ruined, beautiful face.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: A barrage of headbutts at point-blank range relentlessly crushed my forehead, sending countless stars exploding across my vision. The agony and the vibrations rattling my brain left me dazed, your cold face blurring and warping into double and triple images. As I buckled in a groggy stupor, you hooked my thighs, and my world flipped upside down. "......Gah, ...!!" The Powerbomb, delivered with a primal roar, buried my 120kg frame deep into the center of the canvas. The entire ring shrieked under the impact, a destructive force so great it felt as if the boards themselves warped for a split second, sending a shockwave through my spine. "Unbelievable power! Riwam's Powerbomb has warped the ring at Korakuen!!" As the announcer’s scream echoed, the giant monitors captured my mangled, semi-conscious face following the headbutts. The crowd, intoxicated by the beast's superhuman strength, erupted into a frenzy of primal howls.

AlexandriusTheEvilHeel: ALEX: YEAH CRUSH HIM, MY BOY RIWAM

Riwam: remain mounted over you, the heat from your body rising in waves, mixing with the scent of canvas and sweat. I reach down, my fingers cold and unforgiving as they hook beneath your black trunks. I find the heavy, solid weight of your balls and grip them with a crushing intensity, hauling them upward. I want you to feel every ounce of your vulnerability, the "Muscle Monster" anchored to the mat by his own flesh. "Eyes on me, Sekimoto," I growl, my voice a low vibration. I release my grip and explode upward, standing over your prone form. Before you can even roll away, I coil my leg and let fly a brutal, snap-kick. My boot laces connect flush with your chest—THWACK—the sound echoing like a whip crack through the silent pockets of the arena.As your body arches from the blow to your chest, your swelling, rock-hard dick straining against the fabric of your gear. I drive a heavy, flat-footed kick directly downward, stomping into your engorged dick. The air leaves you in a pathetic, high-pitched wheeze. On the giant monitors, the crowd sees your eyes roll back, your massive thighs twitching uncontrollably as the sheer, agonizing electricity of the strike radiates through your entire lower body. I loom over you, the overhead lights casting a long, dark shadow across your mangled face. "Is that all the treasure has to offer?" I ask, my lip curling. "Or are you starting to enjoy the ruin?"

Daisuke_Sekimoto: My 120kg frame buckled as a dull ache shot through me from having my balls yanked upward with raw force. But that was merely the gates of hell. The moment Riwam’s cold shadow loomed over me, a sharp kick gouged my chest, followed by the heavy sole of his boot stomping directly down onto my bursting, erect crotch. "……!! Ga-Ahhh..!!" All the air was snatched from my lungs, leaving only a pathetic, wheezing gasp. Through my black trunks, I felt the core of my engorged length creaking as it was crushed under the impact. Was it unbearable agony piercing my brain, or a forbidden ecstasy? My face on the giant monitors was a mask of "ruin"—eyes rolled back, caught in a blur of torment and pleasure. Your mocking question echoed in my fading consciousness. I crawled my fingers toward your ankle, flashing a defiant, oily grin. This destruction is exactly what leads a monster into the deeper abyss. The throbbing signs of a climax raging in my crotch felt as though they could no longer be stopped by anyone.

Riwam: I reach down and wind my fingers deep into your sweat-soaked hair, fisting the strands until my knuckles turn white. With a guttural snarl, I wrench your head upward, forcing your body to follow. I drag you toward the perimeter, your heavy boots scuffing the canvas until I have you draped precariously over the middle rope. Your chest hangs over the edge, your head dangling toward the concrete floor while your lower half remains tangled in the ring, exposing that ruined, throbbing crotch to the merciless glare of the spotlights. "Don't blink" I breathe into the roar of the crowd. I spring away, scale the turnbuckle in three blurred movements, and balance on the narrow top rope. For a heartbeat - Then, I launch. I cut through the air like a blade, my body horizontal as I drive both heavy soles directly into the side of your skull. The impact is sickening. Your head snaps back, the ropes groaning under the tension as the force of the dropkick tries to take your head clean off. On the giant monitors, the slow-motion replay shows the ripple of your neck muscles failing as your consciousness flickers. You slump against the cables

Daisuke_Sekimoto: The thread of my consciousness snapped with a violent crack. Riwam’s missile dropkick struck my temple with surgical precision, painting my vision in a bruised, obsidian darkness. With my neck caught on the second rope, my 120kg frame succumbed to gravity, spilling over the apron and hanging there, lifelessly suspended. "……!! Ga... ha...!!" An empty, wheezing gasp escaped the back of my throat. While my head dangled toward the concrete, my crotch—the very symbol of my pride encased in black trunks—pulsed pathetically and proudly beneath the spotlights. On the giant monitors, my mangled form, neck creaking and sanity shattered, was displayed in brutal detail. I no longer have the strength to move a single finger. Yet, at the end of this extreme despair and violation, my crotch felt ironically hot, throbbing and trembling for one final, desperate climax. As I felt the shadow of the Champion slowly approaching my defenseless vitals, my consciousness sank into a deep, deep abyss.

Riwam: I step onto the concrete floor, the heat of the arena lamps heavy on my back as I look at your broken form draped over the apron. The "Muscle Monster" is now just a mountain of still meat. I grab your thick ankles, the skin slick with sweat, and haul you along the edge of the ring until your crotch is centered perfectly with the cold, unyielding steel of the corner post. I hop down to the floor, planting my feet firmly. With a surge of cruel intent, I pry your heavy legs wide, exposing the massive, pulsing bulge of your trunks. I don't hesitate. I drive my weight forward, slamming your engorged, rock-hard length dick into the iron post. The sound of the impact is dull and heavy, followed by your muffled, agonizing groan as the steel crushes your pride. I don't stop there; I wrap my arms around your waist and pull backward with everything I have, grating your balls against the metal until you’re arching in a silent, soul-shattering scream. "Is this the climax you wanted, Sekimoto?" I hiss. I let go, leaving you slumped and trembling against the steel. I turn to the darkness beneath the ring apron. With a violent clatter, I begin tossing steel chairs into the ring—one, two, four—the metal clanging against the canvas like a funeral bell. Finally, I pull out a heavy wooden kendo stick, sliding it into the center of the squared circle.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: The impact against the steel post dyed my very core a stark white. As my bursting, erect cock was crushed into the cold metal by Riwam’s powerful arms, a mixture of searing agony and inescapable stimulation pierced my very marrow. "......!! Agh, ga, hah...!!" Inside my black trunks, a massive amount of pre-cum overflowed from my crushed vitals, soaking my inner thighs in a thick, hot mess. My hips buckled involuntarily from the pain of my balls being grated against the steel, and though my consciousness flickered, I hadn't given up yet. I reached out with trembling fingers, trying to grab the heel of your boot, but the lethal damage to my crotch left my legs powerless, leaving my 120kg frame crawling pathetically on the canvas. The kendo stick, the final object tossed into the ring, slid before my eyes with a dry clatter. Drenched in oily sweat and drool, shamelessly exposing my twitching, erect crotch, I glared up at you with clouded eyes, desperately searching for a chance to turn the tables.

Riwam: The sight of you crawling—a beast reduced to a desperate, trembling wreck—is more intoxicating than the roar of the crowd. I step back into the ring, the canvas sticking to my boots, and tower over your prone form. My eyes lock onto the dark, spreading dampness on your black trunks. The sheer volume of pre-cum soaking through the fabric tells the story of your body's betrayal; even as I ruin you, your body is screaming for a release it hasn't earned. I kneel beside you, my fingers tracing the outline of that hot, heavy stain. I don't just touch it—I work it, my thumb circling the tip of your crushed dick through the wet fabric, mocking the involuntary twitches of your hips. "Look at you," I whisper, my voice cutting through the arena's frenzy. "Dripping like a broken faucet while you try to find your feet." I pull my hand away, the slickness of your arousal glistening on my skin, and stand up as you scramble toward the center of the ring. You're searching for air, for space, for a way back into this fight. I reach down and snatch up one of the steel chairs, snapping it open with a violent clack. I hoist the chair high above my head, both arms extended......a silhouette of absolute dominance

Daisuke_Sekimoto: The weight of a desperate crisis, the cold weapon raised overhead. Riwam, you probably think you’ve finished me for good... but the Muscle Monster is at his most dangerous when he’s on the brink! "......Don't you underestimate me, GAH!!" Remaining on my back, I exploded with every ounce of muscle I had left, thrusting both legs upward. Even with my inner thighs drenched in pre-cum, my log-like legs kicked right through your crotch—slamming into that raging "28cm mass" with nowhere to run. A heavy, dull thud of flesh on flesh. Your face contorted in agony, and the chair wobbled in your weakening grip. I didn't miss the opening; I reached out with trembling hands, grabbed your ankle to pull you down, and snatched the steel chair as it slipped from your fingers. Grimacing from the searing pain in my own crotch, I let out a primal roar and swung that hunk of iron down with everything I had, ready to drag you back into hell with me.

Riwam: The impact of your boots against my crotch is a sickening, soul-shaking thud. The world goes white as your legs drive deep into my crotch, crushing with a force that feels like it’s trying to send my spine through the top of my head. The chair I was holding high clatters uselessly to the canvas as I double over, a jagged, high-pitched scream tearing from my throat. "GAHHHH—HAA!" I stumble backward, my hands clutching my mangled groin, my legs turning to water. I wander blindly around the ring, my face a mask of pure, unadulterated agony. The crowd is losing their minds, the monitors showing my eyes bulging and my mouth hanging open in a silent, pained gasp. I reach for the ropes, my fingers white-knuckled as I use them to keep me from collapsing entirely. But you’re not done. I feel your sweat-slicked fingers lock around my ankle like a trap. Before I can find my balance, you yank my leg out from under me. I hit the mat hard, the air driven from my lungs, but the pain in my groin is all I can feel. I look up just in time to see you looming over me, the very chair I brought into the ring now clutched in your massive hands. You let out a primal roar, and the steel swings down in a blurring arc of vengeance. The iron bites into my ribs with a deafening *CLANG*, and I can feel the metal warping against my flesh as I’m driven back into the abyss

Daisuke_Sekimoto: CLANG!! With a deafening shockwave, the chair I swung down captured Riwam’s ribs. Seeing your massive frame sink into the mat, face contorted in agony, a primal laughter bubbled up from the back of my throat. "......Hah, hah... I’m gonna show you hell with my own chair...!!" As the announcer screamed, "The Muscle Monster strikes back! The steel chair has crushed the Beast's ribs!!", I stood up on unsteady legs. Then, I mercilessly drove the corner of the chair into your crotch—into that very swell. "......Agh, ga, aaagh!!" Before you even had time to cry out, I threw my entire 120kg weight behind it, driving a ferocious elbow drop down onto the backrest of the chair. With a heavy, thudding impact, the corner of the chair dug deep into the core of your vitals, ruthlessly grinding them into the canvas. The coldness of the iron, and the searing pain of being crushed by my weight. On the giant monitors, the moment your body arched from the shock and your face twisted in agony was displayed in vivid slow motion.

Riwam: The steel chair becomes an instrument of absolute agony. As the sharp corner bites into the core of my swelling heat, the air is ripped from my lungs in a jagged, soundless gasp. Your massive weight behind the elbow drop drives the cold iron deeper, grinding my most sensitive flesh into the unforgiving canvas. The pain is electric, a blinding white flash that turns my world into a singular point of torment. I lash out, my palm slamming into the mat—*THWACK, THWACK, THWACK*—the rhythmic strike a desperate attempt to drown out the sensation of my pride being crushed beneath your iron. My body arches violently, my spine nearly snapping as I try to escape the pressure, but there is no exit. Through the haze of suffering, a forbidden, dark heat flares in my gut. On the monitors, my face is a portrait of total ruin: jaw unhinged, eyes rolled back, sweat pouring down my neck as I’m forced to endure your vengeful weight. I am the predator no longer; I am a wreck of twitching nerves and shattered dignity, pinned under the very metal I brought into the ring. You aren't just breaking my body—you're claiming my soul through this violation.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: I forcibly yanked your fading head toward me, buried it deep under my thick armpit, and locked in a Dragon Sleeper with my steel-like arms! Your massive frame arched violently, air leaking from your lungs. With my free hand, I reached for your crotch and pumped your explicitly raging cock with raw force. "Look at this! A hell of climax and suffocation!" I flexed my bulging biceps toward the crowd, showing them off for all they were worth. "The Muscle Monster delivers a merciless execution! He’s a true monster, toying with his opponent’s vitals while choking him out!!" As the announcer screamed, the monitors replayed the brutal footage of the pipe chair crushing your crotch, overlapping it with the current scene of violation.

AlexandriusTheEvilHeel: Alex: sadness burning into pure fury: "No no no, not my best friend, let him go right now, or I'll jump in myself.!"

Riwam: The pressure on my throat is absolute, your biceps squeezing like iron bands until my vision flickers with obsidian spots. My lungs scream for air, but all I can inhale is the overwhelming, salt-heavy scent of your sweat and the musk of your raw, dominant power. It’s intoxicating—a primal aroma that bypasses my brain and strikes straight at my **loins**. As you lock me in that suffocating embrace, your free hand finds my ruined **crotch**. The contrast is agonizing; the air is being choked out of me while my blood is forced toward my **dick and balls**, flooding my **groin** with a desperate, frantic heat. When you begin to pump my **dick** with that raw, punishing force, a jagged moan is trapped in my throat. Inside my tiny trunks, the fabric can no longer contain the reaction. My **cock** is rock-hard, **tenting** the dark material upward as it throbs in time with the pulses of pain in my neck. The friction is relentless—a brutal rhythm that coaxes a thick, hot smear of **precum** to leak out, soaking into the waistband and staining the gear. On the giant monitors, my face is a mask of blurred sanity: eyes glazed, mouth open in a silent plea for oxygen, while my body betrays me by hardening further under your merciless touch.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: Still locking you in the Dragon Sleeper, I forcibly dragged your raging cock out from the hem of your tiny trunks. From the base to the tip, I pumped it with a sticky, persistent motion, using the overflowing pre-cum as lubricant. "Spit it out... let it all blast out...!" I hissed the dominant command into your ear, hammering home an inescapable pleasure. "An unbelievable sight! Sekimoto is ruthlessly pumping the exposed cock! The execution has transformed into a lewd ritual!!" As the announcer went into a frenzy, the monitors displayed a vivid close-up of your cock being brutally and violently handled by my powerful arm.

Victor_Creed: Yeah! Fuckin' work that hunk!

Riwam: The world is a blur of red and black, but the sensation in my thighs and balls is screamingly vivid. As you wrench my cock free from my trunks, the cool air of the arena hits the heat of my skin for a split second before your hand—slick with the precum I've been leaking—engulfs me again. "Nnn-gh... AH! HAA...!" The friction is absolute, a sticky, persistent slide that turns my struggle for oxygen into a struggle against a shattering climax. I arch my spine violently, my body becoming a bow of strained muscle. I’m forced onto the very tips of my toes, my boots barely grazing the mat as you haul me upward in that suffocating sleeper. "MMMM-GH... NO! ...PLEASE... AHHH!" Involuntarily, my hips begin to thrust upward into your palm, my dick seeking . A strangled, wet sound escapes my throat as I lose control. My right leg kicks out wildly, hooking over the middle rope to find some kind of leverage against the sensory overload. "HHH-AAAGH... NNGH... YES...!" My ass cheeks are twitching and flexing with every heavy pump of your arm, a primal reaction to the violation of my **groin**. On the monitors, the crowd sees the "Beast" reduced to a quivering mess, my exposed cockbeing hammeredthat feels like it will tear my soul right out of my body.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: I grabbed your exposed cock firmly, as if blocking any escape, and pumped it with a sticky, powerful grip. With every heavy stroke from the base to the tip, I threw my entire weight into the violation. The lewd, wet sounds of friction were picked up by the mics, echoing through the hushed arena. "He's on the verge of falling! The Beast's dignity is being completely wrung out by Sekimoto’s powerful arm right now!!" As the announcer screamed, the giant monitors vividly displayed the sight of hot pre-cum overflowing endlessly from the tip of your over-swollen cock, a depiction of your total ruin.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: Like the scythe of a reaper, my thick right arm gouged deep into Riwam’s throat from behind. A Rear Naked Choke. I compress your carotid artery, inviting you into an inescapable, obsidian darkness. Through our pressed bodies, I can feel your desperate heartbeat and your body temperature, which has risen to its limit. "......Ngh, give it up. Go ahead and climax pathetically right here in my arms!!" I press my raging cock with all my might along the crack of your thick glutes, slamming my flesh's heat and hardness into you. My left hand, without rest, pumps your exposed cock from base to tip at a savage speed, scattering pre-cum everywhere. The agony of suffocation and the lewd pleasure of having your vitals ravaged—faced with that brutal contrast, your massive frame could do nothing but shudder uncontrollably in my arms, standing at the precipice between climax and blacking out.

Riwam: The obsidian darkness is closing in, my vision tunneling as your bicep crushes my windpipe. The world is nothing but the suffocating scent of your sweat and the electric, agonizing friction on my cock. Your dick slams against my glutes, a reminder of my absolute submission, while your hand hammers my dick and balls toward a ruinous peak. Nnn-gahhh... haa... haa...! My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird. I’m at the edge—my body is preparing to surrender, to blast my essence across the canvas in a pathetic display of defeat. But through the haze of pleasure and the fog of suffocation, a flicker of the hunt remains. With a sudden, violent surge of adrenaline, I stop fighting the choke and lean into it. I plant my left foot, find a sliver of leverage, and drive my right heel backward and upward with a desperate, snapping force. My boot connects flush with the side of your skull—crack—the impact jarring your teeth and loosening the iron grip around my throat. I lurch forward, gasping for a jagged lungful of air, my exposed cock still throbbing and slick with the precum you wrung from me. Before you can recover from the daze, I spin on my heels. I grab your head, pulling your face down as I drive my knee upward with soul-shattering velocity. My kneecap slams directly into your nose and jaw. The sound of cartilage breaking echoes

Daisuke_Sekimoto: A sudden, unexpected kick to the back caught my temple, sending violent sparks flying across my vision. My iron-like grip suddenly slackened, and the strength drained from my fingertips as the shock rattled my brain directly. "......Gah! A-aah...!!" My consciousness clouded, and my feet became unsteady. Then came the inescapable follow-up—a soul-shattering knee strike that blasted my face head-on. A sickening crunch of breaking cartilage echoed, and hot blood erupted from my nose like a geyser. My 120kg frame was slammed pathetically into the center of the canvas, surrendering to gravity. I lay there sprawled out in a daze, the overhead lights blurring into multiple layers as I fell into a complete stupor. Blood from my nose traced my cheeks and pooled into my ears, the taste of iron filling my mouth. My nerves felt paralyzed, refusing to move, and I could do nothing but pant vacantly within a vision stained crimson.

Riwam: I stand over your crumpled form, my chest heaving as I suck in the electric air of the arena. My own blood drips from my lip, but the adrenaline has turned me into something beyond human. I reach down and fist your hair, dragging your heavy, dazed body across the canvas toward the corner post. Your boots leave long, dark streaks through the blood and sweat as I prop you up against the turnbuckles. I pry your massive legs wide, exposing your defenseless groin to the hungry gaze of the cameras. My fingers trace a slow, agonizing path over your heavy balls and the slick heat of your dick, teasing the skin before sliding a hand back to feel the twitching muscle of your ass. The humiliation is thick in the air, a palpable weight. I pick up a steel chair and jam the edge of it directly into your junk, wedging it tight against your most sensitive flesh. Before I finish you, I take a moment for myself. I reach into my trunks, pulling the fabric taut to cover my own precum leaking dick, then reach back to wedge the sweat-soaked material out from between my ass cheeks. I want to feel every muscle move as I deliver the end. I snatch up a second chair, hoisting it high above my head. "Die with your treasure, Sekimoto!" With a guttural roar, I swing the iron down with everything I have. The steel hits the chair wedged in your crotch with a sound like a car crash. The vibration and force hammer directly into your balls

Daisuke_Sekimoto: CLANG!! A destructive sound that defied belief—the clashing of steel on steel—tore through the silence of Korakuen Hall. A pipe chair had been driven like a wedge into my crotch by Riwam as I lay there sprawled, nearly unconscious. Now, a second chair, swung down by the 120kg beast with his entire weight behind it, collided head-on with the first. The inescapable vibration of the iron crushed my vitals—my very pride—blasting my entire nervous system with a searing, white-hot electric shock. "......Gah, a... AAAAAAAAAGHHHH—!!" A wordless scream erupted from my mouth along with blood and drool. From the horrific impact to my groin, my body arched violently, shuddering so hard my spine threatened to sink into the turnbuckle hardware. Inside my trunks, amidst the agony of my crushed balls and the overwhelming mass grinding me into the steel, my cock pulsed insanely, splattering pre-cum everywhere. My vision shifted from crimson to a murky white, your merciless silhouette looking down at me like a king of hell. My pride as the "Treasure" was being completely ravaged by this single blow, forced into submission under your violent dominance.

Riwam: I scream at your body looking at your precum leaking dick , the we spot through the run "READY TO CUM LOSER?"

Daisuke_Sekimoto: "Gah... a-aah...!!" The soul-scraping vibration traveled through the steel chair wedged in my crotch. My vision turned a milky white, and my lungs panted hollowly, seeking only hot air. In the center of my trunks, the betrayal of my body—succumbing to your violent dominance—was pathetically highlighted by the dark, spreading stain of pre-cum. Any dignity as the "Treasure" had long since vanished. "READY TO CUM, LOSER?" Your cold declaration exploded in my ears like a brand of defeat. Independently of my will, my engorged cock pulsed for the final time, responding to your voice. With my eyes rolled back and veins bulging in my neck as I endured the scream, I was exposed on the giant monitors to the Korakuen Hall crowd and beyond as a sacrifice, utterly defeated. At the bottom of the abyss as my consciousness faded, I realized I could no longer stop the hot torrent of the climax surging from my core.

Riwam: I grab your chin pulling it up, my other hand grabs your balls shaking my hand over it. I bend down and kiss on your lips and then bit. "READY TU CUM LOSER?" i ask again

Daisuke_Sekimoto: My jaw was forced open, and I let out a muffled, desperate groan—"......Mmm, nnn-gh!"—as I was subjected to the humiliation of that forced kiss. When your hand ruthlessly crushed my balls, a searing agony shot through my skull, turning my vision white and contorting my face into a mask of pain. But even at the edge of consciousness, my soul wasn't dead yet. "......!! Hah, hah... I... won't lose...!!" In response to your question, I shook my head frantically and spat out a mixture of blood and saliva. Glaring at you from point-blank range, I barked with a trembling voice. "I will... absolutely... make you submit...!!" Though my body was broken and my crotch shamelessly exposed, a fierce, glinting light of rebellion still burned in my eyes.

Riwam: The defiance in your eyes is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen tonight—and the very thing I’m going to extinguish.

Daisuke_Sekimoto:

Riwam: "Still barking? Good. I’d hate for you to be silent when I finally break you." I don't pull away. Instead, I lean in until our foreheads are pressed together, forcing you to look at the cold, predatory hunger in my gaze. I reach down, my fingers slick with the sweat and ruin of our struggle, and grip your chin, forcing your jaw wide. I bite again on your lips.

Riwam: I suddenly release your chin and drive my forearm deep into your throat, pinning your head against the turnbuckle with crushing force. While you struggle to draw air, my other hand finds your heavy, pulsing dick and balls again. I don't just grip them this time; I begin to grind them against the edge of the steel chair still wedged in your crotch, using the metal to grate against your skin with every agonizing movement of my hips.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: "Gah... kah, geho...!!" The mass of your forearm driving into my throat completely severed my lifeline. My skull sank into the turnbuckle, and my vision flickered and strobed. As I writhed in despair, deprived of oxygen, you thrust a further hell into my crotch as if to mock me. On the guillotine known as a steel chair, my vitals were relentlessly and violently grated by your hand. The sharp corner of the iron peeled the skin of my heavy, swollen balls and ruthlessly gouged the underside of my cock. "Agh, ga, AGAAAAAAHHH!!" A wordless scream was crushed back down my throat by your arm. The raw sensation of iron on flesh, the inescapable pressure. Every time you thrust your hips, my "Treasure" was swallowed by a vortex of destructive pleasure and agony, splattering thick pre-cum as it was carved away at your whim. On the giant monitors, my face was no longer that of a national champion; it was merely that of a prey, surrendering its crotch to the edge of the steel and writhing in torment.

Riwam: I look at the screen focusing on you leaking dick. I shove your face to the screen "Look at that and tell me you dont wanna cum, that dick is begging to shoot" I bend down and bite on your nipple

Daisuke_Sekimoto: "......Gah, a... AAAH!!" Directed forcibly by your powerful arm, my gaze fell upon the giant monitor—where my own "Treasure" was displayed, ravaged beyond belief. A lump of flesh wedged into the corner of the chair, forced to pulse by your hand, dripping thick, endless pre-cum. The reality that this was a part of me shattered my pride from the inside out. "......Agh, ga, aaaah...!!" As if to deliver the final blow, your teeth ruthlessly pierced the nipple sitting atop my thick pectoral muscle. The stinging scent of your sweat and the sharp, piercing pain across my chest. My throat pinned by your forearm, my crotch grated by iron, and now my nipple bitten as if you meant to tear it away. What dominates my brain is no longer "victory or defeat." It is a craving, akin to terror, for that "begging cock" on the monitor to burst within your hand and vomit everything out. Rolling my eyes back and arching like a bow in your arms, I unleashed a scream of muddied shame and pleasure into the darkness of the arena.

Riwam: I release the pressure on your throat and chest, letting you slump forward for a fleeting heartbeat as you gasp for air. Before your vision can even clear, I seize you by the waist and haul your heavy, shuddering body toward the ropes. I step through to the outside, standing on the apron, and drag you halfway out of the ring so your back is draped over the bottom rope. You are suspended between the ring and the floor, your spine arching painfully over the cable. I step down onto the concrete floor, getting behind your hanging head. I reach up, grabbing your jaw and hair to pull your head back and down, wedging your face deep between my thighs. I force your nose and mouth into the sweat-soaked fabric of my gear, pinning you against my balls and ass. I begin to hump your face with a slow, grinding rhythm, forcing you to swallow the suffocating scent of my crotch as I crush you into my groin. "Taste it, Sekimoto," I growl, my voice a dark vibration against your skull. "Taste the beast that broke you." As I continue to smother you from behind, I lean over your chest, my shadow engulfing your trembling form. My hands find your thick thighs, prying them wide to expose your tenting trunks once more. I lower my head, and without a shred of mercy, I press my mouth directly against your crotch. Through the fabric of your black trunks, I use my lips and tongue to trace the hard, throbbing outline of your dick. Nnn-gh... haa... mmm...! Your muffled moans are swallowed by my own skin. I swirl my tongue over the damp spot where your precum has soaked through, teasing the very tip of your cock through the trunk

Daisuke_Sekimoto: "......Ngh, mmm... gah!!" The bottom rope bit into my spine, sending a shock through me as if my body were about to snap in half. But a far greater despair stripped me of my breath. The weight of Riwam’s sweat-soaked, hot crotch pressed down, sealing my nose and mouth. What flowed into my lungs wasn't oxygen, but the thick, predatory musk of the man who had broken me. As my vision strobed and my consciousness clouded, a searing heat flashed through my groin. You buried your face in my trunks and began to suck my cock directly through the fabric. "......Agh, ga, nnnnn-gh!!" The sound of your growls in my ear and the wet slurping of the fabric. Every time your tongue traced my tip, my vitals—which should have been shattered by the steel chair—leaped with a crazed, frantic joy. Trapped between suffocation from behind and your oral assault from the front, there was no escape. My 120kg frame bounced pathetically against the ropes, able only to repeat its violent, eye-rolling convulsions. My pride as the "Treasure" was being sucked away into the back of your throat, vanishing forever.

Riwam: draped over the cables, everything is reduced to the heat and salt of our skin. I pull back just enough to reach down and hook my fingers into the leg hole of your black trunks. With a sharp, cruel tug, I wrench your rock-hard dick out into the open air. It pulses, thick and slick with the moisture I’ve drawn out of you. I lean in and sink my teeth into the sensitive skin of your cock, a sharp, territorial bite that draws a muffled, soul-shattering scream from your throat. "You’re nothing but meat now, Sekimoto," I hiss against your skin. I stand up fully on the concrete, claiming my prize. I reach into my own trunks and pull out my raging cock, the air cooling it for only a second before I force it into your open, gasping mouth. I ram myself deep, sealing your lips around my shaft and turning your pleas into choked, wet gasps. While I use your mouth to find my own rhythm, my hands stay busy. I grab the waistband of your trunks and haul upward with violent force, giving you a brutal wedgie that prying the fabric deep into your ass cheeks and pining your balls against the rope of your trunk. I don't stop the assault; while I hammer into your throat, I reach down with one hand to guide the head of your dick to my lips. I engulf the tip of your cock, suctioning the sensitive head with a rhythmic, drowning pressure.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: "......Ngh, mmmmm-nnnn-gh!!" My body, folded in half over the bottom rope, was now being literally "dismantled" by the absolute predator named Riwam. Deep inside my mouth, your raging cock was driven home, the violation of my throat forcing tears and drool to overflow. But the inescapable hell didn't end there. My trunks were violently yanked upward, the fabric searing into the crack of my ass, while you simultaneously began to suck the tip of my exposed cock. "......Ngh, gah... mmm...!!" My throat from above, my crotch from below—swallowed simultaneously by your hot mouth in an inescapable sandwich of madness. The oxygen deprivation bordering on suffocation merged with the brain-scorching stimulation of your oral assault. On the giant monitors, the man once called the "Treasure of Japan" was displayed in a state of total ruin, face congested a deep red, forced to accept your dominance through every orifice. Even the pain of the rope biting into my spine felt distant now. My will was being melted away by the overwhelming "heat" and relentless "suction" emanating from your mouth, reduced to nothing more than a shuddering lump of flesh.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: My throat was sealed by the heat of your passion, leaving me unable to even scream; I could only let out a muffled, nasal moan—"Ngh, mmmmm-nnnn-gh!!"—as I writhed in agony. All the while, my crotch, being sucked by you, quickened its frantic pulsing toward a limit-breaking climax. "Look! The Treasure's balls are pulling up; he’s on the verge of exploding!!" The announcer screams. Right before your eyes, my testicles contracted violently, preparing to pump out the semen that was about to erupt. Realizing this, you drove even deeper into my throat while yanking my trunks even higher. The fabric seared into the deep crack of my ass, carving through the muscle, and my hips buckled and rose into the air, unable to withstand the overload of pleasure and pain. On the giant monitors, my mangled form was displayed in vivid detail: my mouth being violated by your massive heat from above, while my lower half shuddered under your persistent suction, overflowing with pre-cum as I was dragged into a total climax.

Riwam: I pull myself up and let your throbbing dick spring out of my mouth. I bend my face a little to your ears so you could hear me between my things. "READY TO CUM"?

Daisuke_Sekimoto: Shuddering with humiliation, I finally succumbed to the undeniable screams of my own flesh and nodded weakly. Tears spilled from my unfocused eyes as I gasped, my face still buried in your crotch, squeezing out a desperate plea. "......Ngh, haa... Please... I'm at my limit...!! Let me cum...!! Please...!!" Not a shred of my former pride as the "Treasure" remained; I was simply surrendering everything to your dominance, begging for the salvation known as climax.

Riwam: The atmosphere in Korakuen Hall has reached a fever pitch, the air thick with the scent of ozone, sweat, and the total breakdown of a legend. I look down at you—the Treasure of Japan—draped like a broken doll over the ropes, your face buried in my loins while I occupy your throat. Every muffled, nasal moan you release against my skin is a confession of your defeat. I ignore your pleas for a second longer, savoring the frantic vibration of your pulse against my dick. Then, I give you what you’re begging for. I increase the pace of my thrusts, burying myself deep into your throat with a rhythmic, bruising force that forces your head back even further. My hand finds your exposed cock, slick with an unbelievable amount of precum, and I begin to stroke it with a savage, unrelenting speed. My tongue flickers over the sensitive head, swirling and teasing the slit as I feel your balls tighten and pull up high against the rope. I suddenly pull my mouth away from your groin, leaving your dick glistening and pulsing in the air. I hoist my left fist high above my head, a shadow of impending doom. "Look at him!" I roar to the crowd, my voice echoing like thunder. "The Treasure is empty! **HERE HE CUMS!**" With a guttural snarl, I smash my fist downward with all my weight, slamming it directly into your tightly contracted balls. The shock of the impact is a spark. Your body arches in a soul-shattering convulsion, your legs prying wide as your hips thrust upward . Your dick, aimed at a 45-degree angle in my palm

Daisuke_Sekimoto: "Please, I’m at my limit! Break me... wring everything out of me with your own hands!!" What tore through the silence of Korakuen Hall was a pathetic "plea for climax" by the former absolute champion. My eyes rolled back, and forgetting even the pain of the rope biting into my spine, I clung to you, begging you to soothe the bursting heat in my crotch. My "Treasure," exposed from my trunks, was gripped in your hand, pre-cum overflowing endlessly from the tip. "Look! Sekimoto is crying and begging! He’s discarded his pride as a champion, barking pathetically for nothing but a climax!!" As the announcer’s scream echoed, the giant monitor showed my face distorted in humiliation—crushed against your crotch, even my nostrils filled with your predatory musk. "......Gah, AGAAAAAAAAAAAHHH—!!" In that instant, your merciless low blow struck my testicles, which were pulled to their absolute limit, head-on. My brain felt as if it had exploded, my vision staining with a white flash. Taking that as a signal, my body arched violently as if vomiting out my very soul, and I blasted thick semen in a heavy arc. One, two... in sync with the shock of your fist, the muddy white proof of my defeat stained your stomach and the canvas. I foamed at the mouth from the intensity of the climax, my entire body convulsing as I completely lost consciousness in your arms.

Riwam: The arena is a cacophony of stunned silence and feral cheering as the white streaks of your surrender paint the canvas and my own skin. I feel the final, weak tremors of your 120kg frame as the life leaves your muscles, replaced by the heavy, limp weight of a man who has been thoroughly hollowed out. I pull my cock from your slack jaw, watching a thread of silver saliva and spent pride trail from your lips. I don't just let you fall. I hold you there for a moment, draped over the ropes like a discarded trophy, letting the cameras zoom in on your glazed eyes and your ruined, exposed crotch. I step over your unconscious body, planting my boots firmly in the center of the ring, right in the pool of our mingled sweat and your defeat. I throw my head back and unleash a primal roar that shakes the rafters of Korakuen Hall. I hoist my arms high, my muscles bulging and glistening under the spotlights, my chest heaving with the adrenaline of the hunt. I am the only thing standing in the light. With one foot, I dismissively shove your limp shoulder, sending your head lolling back against the mat. I point a single, accusatory finger at the giant monitor displaying your ruined face.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: Riwam's roar, echoing as if to pierce the ceiling of Korakuen Hall, ruthlessly tore through the silence of the defeated. On the canvas, the thick semen wrung from my body was vividly splattered as a raw seal of your victory. The 120kg frame once called the "Treasure of Japan" was nowhere to be seen. Having been smothered by your crotch, violated in the throat, and finally sinking into a climax after my balls were shattered, I was rolled onto the mat as a mere lump of flesh, unconscious. My "Treasure," spilled from my trunks, lay limp and withered after being sucked dry and battered by you. "Did you see that?! The collapse of a legend! Who could have predicted Sekimoto would be so cruelly, so completely possessed!!" The announcer's voice echoed hollowly in my corpse-like ears. You pointed at the monitor while stomping toward my face, declaring to the world: what lies here is no longer a champion. It is merely "prey," its very soul wrung out by your overwhelming violence and lewd dominance. As you raised your cry of victory in the center of the radiant ring, I lay at your feet, sinking into a sea of my own semen and sweat, accepting total and absolute defeat.

Daisuke_Sekimoto: END ...

Riwam: THE END...