Wrestling Club Paradise

BIG LUCAS

The tour is going great. Last stop was Helsinki last night. Today I'm flying to Madrid. My book has been an incredible success, both in bookstores and online. The Red Ruby: Discovering the New Cup of Life. My theory is simple: the Holy Grail was never the cup that collected Christ's blood. It was a ruby, a gemstone with miraculous healing powers. Experts laugh at me. But I know I'm right. And so do my readers. The book has been translated into English, and the royalties have completely changed my life. Not long ago, I was a broke student. 

After a huge breakfast, I barely have time to hug the owners of ARKADIA bookstore before jumping into a taxi headed for the airport. My flight leaves at 4:25 PM. I've got two hours to spare and should be in Madrid shortly after 8 PM. I'm exhausted. The moment I sit in the cab, I fall asleep. The driver actually has to shake me awake when we arrive.

I jump out, grab my backpack, and head straight to check-in. I'm flying business class, which means priority security. The steward checking me in is gorgeous. Under his uniform, you can tell he's built like an athlete. We chat for a few minutes. I joke that it's a shame I didn't meet him earlier during my stay. He smiles, says something to a female colleague at the next counter. She laughs. I have no idea what they said. Then suddenly he stands up and walks around the desk. "You're a lucky man. I just ended my shift." 

A few minutes later, he leads me toward the disabled restroom near the Security. I won't go into details. What happens in Helsinki stays in Helsinki. Then I realize my flight leaves in twenty minutes. Shit. I rush toward security.

The priority lane is almost empty. I show my boarding pass on my phone. I've only got a backpack with me. Everything goes smoothly until I step through the body scanner. A guy with a thug's face walks over to me. He grabs my bag and tells me to follow him. I check my watch. Ten minutes left. 

No fucking way I'm following this asshole. If there's one thing I hate, it's people abusing tiny bits of authority. I ask him to search me right there and explain that I'm about to miss my flight. He shrugs. "Not my problem. Follow me." I stare at him. "If I miss my flight, it'll soon be your problem, you stupid orangutan." A couple of his coworkers burst out laughing. His face darkens instantly. Then he grabs my arm. 

Big mistake. I smash a left hook straight into his face. He drops like a rock. And I run. Gate 21. Five minutes left. I know I probably won't make it. Behind me I hear shouting, radios going off, people yelling. I don't care. I need that plane. I have to be in Madrid tonight.

 When I finally reach the gate, it's already too late. The display above the desk shows the next flight. The boarding door is closed. I practically beg the flight attendant. She gives me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing I can do. Boarding is closed."

 Then I hear voices behind me. I turn around. The asshole I punched is standing there. His nose is broken. Blood covers half his face. And he's not alone. Two other men are with him. My gaze immediately locks onto the biggest one. The obvious leader. A mountain of muscle. Broad shoulders and Powerful chest. Instantly, I forget about Madrid. He walks toward me. Placing a hand on my shoulder. And squeezes. Hard. His fingers dig into my flesh. I refuse to flinch. 

Behind him, the bleeding idiot points at me and shouts: "Take that motherfucker to our room, Alex! I'll deal with him myself!" His face is twisted with rage. But Alex remains perfectly calm. He looks me straight in the eye. Then says quietly: "Follow me, boy. You're in trouble."

DREAM BREAKER

 "Everyone else, get out of here. I've got this under control," I mutter in a low voice, closing the door behind me. My colleagues know my interrogation methods are a bit unorthodox but effective, so no one objects. My eyes scan you from head to toe, confirming what I saw earlier on the monitors: a muscular young guy with a nerdy look, a massive bulge between his legs, and a delicious bubble butt on the other side.

"Tell me in your own words, buddy, what happened. Why didn’t you want to open your bag?” I step in front of you, looking menacing, until our chests are almost rubbing against each other. “I’ve been watching you ever since you walked into the airport, so I know all about your little adventure in the accessible restroom.” I put my hand on your shoulder, pushing you to sit down on the wooden chair behind you. "Don’t even try to lie, or your trip ends right here."

BIG LUCAS

On the way to his office, deep in the back corridors of the airport, I have plenty of time to observe Alex. Everything about him feels animalistic. The smooth way he moves. The muscles shifting beneath his clothes. Even his scent. But what strikes me most is his confidence. People obey him without hesitation. Even the asshole whose face I rearranged walks behind us with his head down, not saying a word. A few moments later, I find myself alone with Alex in his office. He's talking to me, but I couldn't care less. My eyes roam around the room, trying to learn more about him—and maybe find a way out if things go worse. The office smells like him. Like a man. A pair of 35-kilogram dumbbells on the floor advertise his strength, though they might also make useful weapons if things get ugly. Near the radiator, a pair of Nike sneakers and some dirty socks give off a powerful smell. On the windowsill sit a deodorant stick and a cheap bottle of cologne

His chest is almost against mine. His breath smells faintly of gin. He's close enough that I could headbutt him and make a run for it. But I do nothing. Instead, I puff out my chest as much as possible, stretching my pecs beneath my T-shirt and jacket until they seem almost horizontal. I catch his eyes flicking briefly toward my muscular chest. Then his hand crushes down on my shoulder. I shiver. This guy has the grip of a wrestler. A second later, I crash down hard onto a  chair. My face is now level with his crotch. I look up at him with an insolent grin and slowly pronounce every word as if he were an idiot. "Talk about what, Grandpa? You already know everything about me. Or do you have Alzheimer's?" To underline my disrespect, I deliberately flex my chest beneath my T-shirt and jacket.

DREAM BREAKER

I’m listening to your pathetic attempts to annoy me, but I’ve seen and heard much worse in my career. Once, years ago, a young man had the brilliant idea of screaming, “Help, I’m being raped,” his face red with rage, as if anyone could hear his screams from a soundproofed room. The boy probably wanted it, so I raped him. He didn’t get on the plane either; he traveled nicely by ship.

Your long curly hair is a great place to grab hold of and turn your head back until your face is facing mine. “You should cut your hair; you look just like Shirley Temple,” I sneer as I open your black backpack with my other hand and start looking through what’s inside. “If you’re asked to open your bag, it’s not a request—it’s an order—and you do as you’re told.” I rummage through your backpack with my free hand, looking for anything that might have shown up on the X-ray. But I see nothing but an oval, long, metal case, the kind used to store expensive pens. The lid reads Mont Blanc.

BIG LUCAS

While this asshole is talking to me, I pull out my phone and open a ride-sharing app. A couple is leaving Helsinki for Madrid in three hours. I barely have time to send my booking request before you grab me by the hair and twist my face toward yours. Fuck, when are you going to understand that I don’t give a shit about you or your rules? And who the hell is Shirley Temple? One of your bimbos? You keep pulling on my curly mop while you search my bag. I feel my blood starting to boil. “What do you think you’re going to find in there, asshole? Apart from my dirty underwear and T-shirts stinking of sweat? That turns you on, huh?” Then you touch my Montblanc pen. Or rather, its case. A gift from my father. Another asshole your age who does nothing but lecture me. “Do this. Don’t do that.”

That’s too much. I reach out toward your crotch, right there in front of me, as if it’s mocking me. I grab your balls, heavy and solid, and squeeze with all my strength. My biceps swells inside the sleeve of my T-shirt, almost tearing the fabric. From the pain and the shock, you let go of me and drop the pen case onto the floor. I jump to my feet and grab one of the dumbbells. Without hesitation, I swing it sideways into the lower part of your face, trying to smash your jaw. Then I let the dumbbell fall. It lands hard on one of your feet. I grab my things and open the door. The corridor is empty. I start running without really knowing where I’m going. But one thing is certain. Now I’m really in deep shit.

DREAM BREAKER

The backpack in my hand falls to the ground, along with the metal pencil case that most likely caused the whole incident, as I feel a searing pain in my ribs. I open my mouth to scream, but you quickly muffle the sound with a dumbbell. Before I can gather my thoughts and recover from the worst of the pain, you’ve already disappeared out the door. “Fuck, I should’ve locked the door,” I curse to myself as I rub my bruised jaw. “That damn cherub monkey could’ve broken my jaw.” Luckily, my shoes are safety boots designed for our mission; their steel insoles protect against the worst blows but also turn them into a deadly weapon if necessary.

Limping slightly due to my sore balls, I rush after you. I have home-field advantage; I know the place and I know the only spot you can get to without an access card: the conveyor belt for arriving luggage. I open the door and see you looking around frantically, looking desperate. “Didn’t you want to catch your flight?” I chuckle a bit forcedly, still feeling the soreness in my ribs. I don’t give you a chance to answer as I lunge at you, grabbing a firm grip on your shoulder and shoving you with my full 140 kg against the pillar behind you, while my knee slams between your legs.

BIG LUCAS

Fuck, I really know how to get myself into the worst situations. Every door requires either an electronic keycard or an access code. With no other option, I follow the only path available and end up in a huge room where several conveyor belts carry luggage toward departing flights and arriving passengers. Panic starts to creep in. The orangutan is probably right behind me, and there isn't a single visible exit anywhere. I spot two guys talking as they walk toward a door. I try to follow them discreetly when suddenly I hear your voice. The next instant, I'm crushed against a pillar by a mountain of muscle. Pain explodes through my entire body, and all the air is driven from my lungs. It feels as if a truck has run me over..

You have every advantage in terms of size and weight, and I'm completely pinned. Still, I decide to rely on my charm. "Hey, man, sorry. We got off on the wrong foot. I've got an important meeting in Madrid tomorrow. I overreacted. I'm sorry. Be a good guy and let me catch the next flight." I feel you ease up slightly. That's all I was waiting for. I slam my forehead into your nose once, then a second time into your forehead. My fists crash into the sides of your head. I shove you away and sprint toward the door. Just my luck. It's protected by a keypad. Without hesitating, I jump onto a conveyor belt and, like a surfer riding a wave, let it carry me away toward what I hope is an exit that will finally get me rid of you

DREAM BREAKER

I rub my face where your blows landed, but I can’t help but smile when I see you jumping onto the conveyor belt that leads to the apron. You’re resourceful and persistent, I’ll give you that, but you’re also stupid, because you’ve driven yourself into a spot from which you have no way out except to the baggage handling room or the aircraft hold. At that moment, my radio crackles as Central Security reports a civilian intrusion into a restricted area. Two guards have been dispatched to apprehend the man. I know immediately who it is, and the smile on my face only widens. “This time, the boy’s in trouble and gets to feel firsthand what a grumpy Alex’s fist tastes like... or...", I squeeze my cock, which is getting hard in my pants, "maybe I’ll get to know that muscular golden-haired guy a little deeper—24 cm deep, to be exact," I think to myself as I head toward the apron. The guards have probably already caught him. "Can you hear me, apron guards?" I ask over the radio, but no one answers me. They’re most likely subduing the boy.

BIG LUCAS

I quickly slide through the maze of conveyor belts. Every now and then, I have to dodge suitcases coming from the left or the right. Then I notice the cameras. Fuck. This airport is protected better than the gold reserves of a national bank. A few moments later, I reach a larger area. There are baggage carts, stacks of suitcases, and, most importantly, an open doorway leading out onto the tarmac.

 I get ready to jump the five feet separating me from the ground when I hear crackling voices over a radio. Two guards farther ahead are talking with a third one, and from the looks of it, they're waiting for me. Their backs are turned and they haven't noticed me yet. My only goal is to get out of here and make it to my rideshare meeting for Madrid. I've got a little less than two hours left, but it's still doable.

I empty my backpack and stuff my passport, phone, and everything else I need into the pockets of my jacket. As I reach their position, I leap down, grab both them by the heads from the side, and slam them together. The thinner one drops unconscious. The heavier one tries to get back up, and I drive a vicious hook into his jaw. I see a tooth fly through the air before blood starts pouring from his mouth. Then I hear your voice crackling through a walkie-talkie. No time to waste. I know you'll be here soon. I start walking toward the welcome opening, then change my mind. I turn back and search one of the guards. I rip away the access card that controls the secured doors. Soon, all of this will be nothing more than a crazy story to make my friends laugh. I head toward the exit when suddenly a massive shadow blocks the doorway. Fuck. It's the orangutan... and he's furious.

DREAM BREAKER

"Hey, you little curly haired punk, where are you heading? Didn't you want to get on the flight after all? Come here and I'll make sure you get on the plane," I smile, but there isn't a trace of joy in my voice. A pack of other guards approaches you from behind, looking menacing. “You have two options: turn back and face those gorillas, or do as I say,” I continue, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer as my knee suddenly slams into your abs. I signal the guards behind you to stop as I drag you into a large hall in the middle of the conveyor belts. 

"If you fight and beat me, I’ll get you a seat on the next flight to Madrid in first class. If you lose, you won’t be flying first class. Do we have a deal?” I step back and spread my legs wide, taking a firm fighting stance on the ground, and raise my thick arms to hip height. “What’s your decision? The flight or the cell?”

BIG LUCAS

When I find myself pressed up against you, I feel a rush of conflicting emotions and i feel my cock gets hard. Your scent, your massively developed physique turn me on. I've always been drawn to men built like you. That's just the way I am. Muscles are my weakness. Then I glance behind me and see a herd of thick-headed bruisers waiting for your orders. They don't scare me. I'll deal with them if I have to. As for your offer, I don't even bother answering. That knee strike was a declaration of war. You're huge, a living Colossus of Rhodes made of flesh and bone. I charge straight at you. Just as I'm about to come within reach, I suddenly veer to the side and drive my fist hard into your crotch hurting your lower abdomen, cock and balls. Then I dart behind you to see the effect of my attack. "Asshole, get your credit card ready. That first-class seat is waiting for me."

DREAM BREAKER

I go down on one knee, rubbing my aching groin. "You Cherubini, you seem to have some kind of obsession with my cock and balls", I spit on you as I turn to face you. Without getting up onto my feet I shove my arm between your legs and crush your bulge with my 24" bicep, flattening your nuts against your pelvic bone, seeing you falling down onto your knees. "You have nice eyes behind those TV screens in your head. To your surprise I suddenly get up, grab you by your curly hair and shove my knee into your face.

BIG LUCAS

Suddenly, a horrible pain shoots through my lower stomach, climbing into my back and chest. "You bastard... AHHHHHHHHH! You're going to pay for th—" I don't even have time to finish the sentence before I drop to my knees. My head snaps violently to the side, and my vision immediately blurs. My mouth fills with blood. Fuck. There are two things I can't stand: people treating my balls like some kind of playground, and people messing with my handsome face. And why is it always old bastards your age who seem the most dedicated to doing both?

I collapse onto my side in a foetal position. I need time to recover from those hits. Damn, you're an old man, but you hit hard. Then I notice something. I reach out with my hand. A moment later, I force myself back onto my knees, right in front of you. I let out a weak chuckle, my voice broken by pain and ragged breathing. "Even... the Colossus... of Rhodes... eventually... fell..." I press the object forward on your crotch. It's the taser I took from one of the poor idiots I knocked out earlier. "That's... how I train orangutans... by the balls."

DREAM BREAKER

"Orangutan, are you calling me an orangutan?" I grab your wrist with a firm grip, twisting your arm and prying the nasty weapon in your hand away from your target. "What the fuck is your obsession with my dick? You must want it inside you, just admit it," I growl as I turn the Taser’s head toward your neck. "Just press the button if you want to use it." I lift my knee into the air and slam it hard into your face, sending your glasses flying to the ground. “Oh no, your glasses fell off,” I taunt you and step with my heavy weight onto your glasses, crushing them under the soles of my feet. “Oops, that was an accident,” I chuckle.

BIG LUCAS

What an asshole. Orangutan is too flattering for him. He has the intelligence of a chickpea. Just a mountain of muscles with no brain behind them. The taser is pressed against my neck, my glasses lie shattered on the floor, and blood is running down my face. Fuck. He must have broken my nose. I glance at a clock hanging on the wall. I have barely an hour and a half left to reach the couple who are supposed to drive me to Madrid. I try to get back up, grabbing the arm that's holding my wrist and pushing it upward. After a struggle, I finally manage to get to my feet. "I'm sorry for calling you an orangutan, man," I say. "I'd say you're more of a gorilla." I rise onto my tiptoes and slam my forehead into your face. At this point, I've got nothing left to lose. Might as well try everything. I wrench myself free from your grip and break into a run toward the exit leading to the tarmac. Almost immediately, I realize I'm staggering. Your punches weren't just for show.

DREAM BREAKER

Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain between your legs and fall to your knees on the hard ground. I stand behind you, pulling my reinforced boot away from your crotch and grabbing you by your curls, violently pulling your head back. "Why do you want to run away? I promised you that you’d get on the next flight to Madrid, and I always keep my promises." I slam your face into the ground with force and feel your body go limp, just enough for me to unbutton your tight jeans and pull them off your legs. "But you have to pay for your ticket first." A grin spreads across my face—perhaps not the most hospitable one.

BIG LUCAS

"Son of a bitch." The insult bursts out between my cries of pain. I throw one last glance toward the door to freedom. I realize I'm going to miss my rideshare, and that the worst is about to happen. I feel my jeans sliding over my skin, the cool air wrapping around my ass, still squeezed into a pair of Calvin Klein briefs. I try to crawl away from you, but I know it's ridiculous. The pain is making me numb, and I also know when I've lost. You promise to put me on a plane to Madrid. The game is worth the candle. And judging by the bulge in your pants, that's one hell of a candle

DREAM BREAKER

You’re still struggling, but I notice something’s changed—your resistance is weaker than before. I pull you backward by the waistband of your boxers, and with my other hand, I pull a thin utility knife out of my breast pocket. Its thin, sharp blade glides lightly over the crease between your buttocks, cutting your boxers open. “That’s better,” I chuckle and close the small knife, putting it back in my pocket. “You showed interest in my cock and balls, so maybe it’s time to get to know them,” I chuckle, unzipping my pants and pulling out my thick, stiff cock, crouching behind you. "Stay like that, on all fours," I command as I yank your curly hair back forcefully, and without any warning, I ram my cock into your ass, all the way to the hilt, with a single, brutal thrust. "Shhh... be a good girl, your journey is about to begin."

BIG LUCAS

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH "My scream fills the space. I don't know why, but images from a movie come back to me, where a guy dressed as a gorilla is locked in a cage with a male gorilla. I'm searching for the title, the actors' names. Yes, Eddie Murphy, Trading Places... What strange thoughts. They make me forget the pain and my humiliating position on all fours. My dick doesn't agree. It lengthens, gets comfortable, drips. I feel like you're going to scalp me, your grip on my curly hair is so painful. I hear bursts of laughter. I see the two guys I knocked out, taking their revenge. They're hysterical and jerking off. I try not to participate too much in your pleasure. But unconsciously I tighten my ass cheeks around your cock. I even start to moan. I'm shaken like a bitch in heat by your thrusts. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming with pleasure. I don't understand what's happening to me. Everything about you makes me lose my mind. Your strong male scent in rut, your firm muscles, your hand pressing one of my hips and especially your alpha brutality. Suddenly I scream your name "Alex, fuck me, fill me with you, Hannnnnn"

DREAM BREAKER

"You seem to be enjoying this. I knew it the moment I saw you fucking that check-in clerk." My long arm wraps around your hips and grips your thick cock. "Everything about you seems so sturdy," I murmur behind you as I adjust the angle of my cock and aim the head of my thick, mushroom-shaped cock at the lower wall of your tight opening, right behind your balls, slamming hard into your sweet spot. Your screams echo through the large hall, and I guess I’ve hit the right spot. “Don’t be shy, enjoy the moment before the flight. We wish everyone departing from Helsinki Smooth Traveling,” I chuckle as one of the guards in front of you shoots his load onto your face.

BIG LUCAS

Coming to Helsinki, I never would have imagined I'd end up taking part in an orgy in the airport's baggage handling area. My face is covered in cum. My cock is dripping with an endless stream of pre-cum, and deep inside me, your cock keeps forcing its way farther. When you grab my cock, a shiver runs through my entire body. Your massive cock completely fills me. I can feel my lower stomach churning. My balls feel heavy, even though I emptied them not long ago. I press myself against you as much as I can. Feeling those massively developed muscles against my body turns me on completely. I moan and pant loudly, and I release a massive load just as the second guard sends his own across my face. "Fuck, this has to stop. My face isn't an airport runway."

DREAM BREAKER

"Shhh... you can't count emergency landings," I chuckle as I continue the back-and-forth motion of my hips, pounding my throbbing cock into your yielding ass while my hand strokes your thick shaft. One of the guards cums on his partner’s shoes in embarrassment as I continue to tame you. “Don’t fight it, your flight is about to leave.”

BIG LUCAS

A smell of cum now mingles with the odours of motor oil, leather, sweat. My dick refuses to give up and stays hard as a steel bar. It's been a long time since I've felt such sexual excitement. Usually, I'm the one running the game. But here I'm your thing. You mark me with your sweat dripping on my back, with your breath blowing on my skin. I shiver with pleasure. I squeeze, move my glute muscles, to accompany your back-and-forth movements. I feel a new orgasm developing inside me, my lower belly and back catch fire and a new pleasure spread through my entire body. I release a second load, as powerful as the first. The last time this happened to me was on my campus, with a brutal professor who marked me in every way.

DREAM BREAKER

The heady mix of kerosene and fresh semen is intoxicating. The muscular boy with curly hair has lost all self-control and is grinding his ass around my cock like a turbine, milking my load deep inside him. I pull your head back as I erupt inside you like a conqueror, marking you as my prize. I don’t collapse on top of you, I don’t pant in exhaustion—instead, I calmly pull my cock out of your pulsing, cum-dripping ass, letting your body slump onto the dirty floor. I stand up and tuck my cock back into my pants. “You can go,” I tell the guards as I take a dog collar from the shelf at the very back of the room—one that has likely come loose from some poodle. I wrap it around your neck and lift you to your feet by your hair. “Come with me, your flight is waiting.”

BIG LUCAS

I collapse on the floor exhausted, reeking, dripping with sweat, my ass full of cum. You dismiss the guards and I'm alone with you. I'm still hungry for you. You're a force of nature and you're unaffected by our fight and our fucking. But you put your cock away and tell me my flight is waiting. I hear it almost with regret. Then I remember my carpooling appointment. Fuck. My conference tomorrow in Madrid. I'd gladly cancel it to stay with you, fuck all night long, feel your muscles, your strength. "Isn't there a morning flight tomorrow?" I ask. But instead of answering, you wrap a dog collar around my neck. A domination fantasy? An S&M urge? I don't know, but I don't protest. "Can I shower first?" But still only your silence;

DREAM BREAKER

I don’t answer you; instead, I drag you by your collar through the loading bay toward the vehicle, to which carts full of luggage are attached—like a train—to be transported to the aircraft. “I promised you special transport, and I never break my promises,” I chuckle, stroking your curly hair until I slap my palm against your bare ass. “Your flight leaves in 45 minutes; it’s time to board the plane,” I continue, still chuckling as I lean over you. "Remember to behave yourself during the flight so you don’t get thrown out of the plane," I laugh sarcastically and jab my elbow into your temple, twice to make sure you collapse to the ground unconscious. I must use a few zip ties to tie you on your side, still unconscious.

 In the corner lies a dog transport crate that hasn’t been used in years, which I carry over to you. It takes a bit of effort, but eventually I manage to stuff you into the large crate, whose doors I neatly secure with zip ties. 

The arrow stickers on the edge of the crate indicate which way the crate should be carried. I rip them off and smile as I write the manual tag “MAD - RUSH ITEM - PRIORITY” and make a note in the NOTOC document. On top of the crate, I stick a piece of paper showing the recipient’s name: “MAX MuscleMarine”—(To be picked up at destination). The freight handlers arrive right on time and agree to load the special shipment onto the plane first. “Do you know if the animal has drunk any water?” the load master asks me. I give him a wink and smile broadly. “It’s well hydrated. No need to worry”.

THE END OR...

Published: 2026-06-12, viewed 108 times.