THE HIGH TABLE

JASON LUNDQUIST:

It's been six months since my last fight with Alex. Six months of recovery. Six months of soul-searching. Six months of...people consoling me or ridiculing me or giving me advice or laughing at me after seeing the video of what happened. Of me, a high-level MMA fighter, a BJJ black belt, getting just rolled over, and then fucked, by a guy with far less training, but a lot more strength and mass. It's been hell. My legitimacy as a fighter is in question--even I question it. It's made it hard to attract fights in the underground orgs, at least major ones. And rumors of it are making their way into the mainstream. It could hurt my gym--the one my dad built that my brothers and I inherited. I'm the gym's champion. It's head instructor. My reputation is the gym's reputation. I need to make this right. And I need something to offset the memory of...being under you...being...unable to stop you...has haunted my nightmares. I've spent the time I wasn't recovering training with just one goal--defeating you. I have prepared myself. I have honed my skills to katana-sharpness. I have built a brutal and effective strategy. And I've challenged you to a rematch--same rules--but this time not a private gym match. This time a public, if underground, match in front of fans. I am now walking out to the cage, in the somewhat grungy venue hall we're fighting in. I'm not wearing my gi or my belt. I won't have earned them back until I beat you. Only my hoodie and slides set me apart from how I will be dressed in the cage. I doff my hoodie and slides at the cage entrance and climb into the cage, looking at no one. Visualizing victory. I wait for my opponent.

DREAM BREAKER:

"He must have lost his mind!" I look at the message I received again. "Jason is challenging me to a rematch, but this time in front of an audience! And he doesn’t realize that he’ll humiliate himself for good by losing again," I say to my gym buddy, who is rubbing my shoulders after just losing a wrestling match to me. "But he’ll get what he wants, and this time I’m going to punish the kid by beating him until he loses consciousness, But he’ll get what he wants, and this time I’m going to punish the kid by beating him until he loses consciousness, and if his brothers try to rush in to help, they’ll meet the same fate in front of the jerking crowd.”

I can hear the crowd roaring long before I step out of my dressing room into the hallway lit by spotlights that leads to the ring. Then I see you; you’ve recovered surprisingly well and look stronger, quite formidable. “Good thing—humiliating you will be twice as delicious,” I think to myself, adjusting the bulge in my red compression shorts as I finally step into the ring and lean casually, confidently against the ropes. “Just tell me, Jason, when you want to start. We’re ready, me and little Alex here,” I laugh sarcastically, pointing my finger at the outline of my cock through my shorts.

JASON LUNDQUIST:

A part of me shudders at your threats. But a bigger part of me rages. Fuck this guy, I think. Metaphorically and then literally. I put up my hands in a fighting stance--a Muay Thai long-guard, hands out ahead of me--and nod. We begin to circle a little. My strategy is different this time. Last time, I treated you like somebody in my weight class. Just came forward, used pure aggression. Your size and power mean I can't trade with you. I have to hit you a lot more and a lot more effectively than you hit me. So that's what I'm gonna do. I'm circling to my right, away from your power, until I shuffle back the other way at the last moment and pivot for a right leg spinning back kick--heel aimed for your Adam's Apple. It's a self-defense match--almost everything is legal. Let's see how you enjoy struggling to breathe.

DREAM BREAKER:

Your leg appears from nothing. I wasn't prepared to receive a sudden kick that is approaching my body with high speed. I try to snap a grab of it, but you are faster, and your hard kick lands probably a bit lower than you planned, on my upper chest. A few inches higher you would have reached my Adam's apple, and in the worst case the fight could have been over for me. I stumble backward until I hit my back against the rope fence behind me. You are playing hard and you are not shy to show it. Straightening my back again, I lower my shoulders slightly as I lunge forward, trying to spear you with my upper body, hoping that my massive bulk will work to my advantage in the collision when my shoulders hit your chest.

JASON LUNDQUIST:

I miss the throat but still do some good damage. I can see you're rattled--I think by the difference in intensity. I underestimated you before. I can't afford to do that again. You charge back at me, looking for the spear. Perfect. I sidestep at the last moment, catching your right wrist with my left, driving my right elbow into your right elbow and pivoting, shooting right leg across the line of your charge, dragging you further forward as I spin, tripping and launching you over my leg. and onto the canvas with a crash. Tai otoshi--my baby brother Johnny's favorite throw. Great for a smaller man fighting a bigger one. I consider holding onto the arm to hit the armbar after, but that would be a risk. Instead, I stomp you once in the ribs hard with my right heel and back up.

DREAM BREAKER:

I crash onto the canvas with a massive thud, my full weight causing the entire ring to shake violently. You stomp on my ribs, nearly breaking a few, until you pull back and I get a moment to recover. Something in you has changed over these past six months. You’re no longer the guy who tried little technical moves on me; you’ve moved on to heavier weapons. I get to my knees and look at you, suddenly lunging on top of you, wrapping my arms around your upper thighs, trying to use my weight to throw off your balance and make you fall to the ground with me.

JASON LUNDQUIST: Y

our lunge is quick, you manage to get your hands around my thighs before I can sprawl. So I drive my hips into the side of your head instead and start furiously dropping elbows on the back of your skull as you try to build posture to drop me, pushing my thighs backward as I go in the hopes that the strikes will stun you and you'll release your controls. Elbows like this aren't usually legal in MMA. But this isn't MMA, as your tactics in our last match proved.

DREAM BREAKER:

I didn’t expect such a near-illegal counterattack from you as your elbows pounded the back of my head, knocking me to the ground nearly unconscious. I lift my upper body and look at your triumphant face as the crowd chants your name. This can’t be real—you took me down right in the opening minutes of the fight. I see the bulge between your legs growing as you see me, for once, on the defensive, almost broken.

But I haven't given up yet. I get to my knees, brushing the stars from my head, and finally, slowly back onto my feet, glaring at you in my rage. “This isn’t over yet, boy!” I growl and lunge at you, wrapping my arms around your neck and pulling you closer to me. I stare into your eyes, slamming my forehead into your face and burying your face in the canyon between my pecs before you even have time to scream in pain. My knee rises, aiming for the space between your legs. This might be forbidden, but you just broke every rule.

JASON LUNDQUIST:

I see the damage do and I'm ecstatic. I even indulge in a little crowd work, which turns out to be a mistake. You're hurt--pretty bad even--but not out. And I'm not fast enough to stop you from getting your hands around my neck. As I'm fighting it you slam your head into my face, smashing my nose and stunning me. Then you drag me into a smother, and as I'm trying to squirm out I feel your knee smash into my junk. It's not right on the button, but it's enough that I scream into your chest, the pain so intense that it induces some nausea. My hands are free--I start to dig hard hooks into your body, but they're weak given the pain I'm in. I just can't leave you entirely able to focus on doing damage.

DREAM BREAKER:

I feel my confidence rising again as I see the immediate effect my strategy has on you. I was able to weaken you and finally restore the balance in our battle that is rightfully mine. The crowd gasps as they watch their favorite in trouble. I release my grip from around your neck, jabbing my knee between us and using it like a spring to throw your body backward toward the turnbuckles. I spread my shoulders, bounce my pecs as I flex my biceps, and strut for the crowd as I watch you in trouble. “Boy, welcome back to reality,” I chuckle tauntingly.

JASON LUNDQUIST:

My rage gets the better of me as you taunt me. Before I've even recovered I'm charging back at you with a flying knee. It connects--smashing into your collarbone and jaw. I'm sure it hurts. But you don't move as much as a normal person and I land awkwardly, off-balance, directly in front of you.

DREAM BREAKER:

I let out a little gasp and take a few wobbly steps as your kick lands its mark, but your kick didn’t have the power you were hoping for. Finally, you fall to the ground in front of me, just as I could have hoped. I turn my head downward. Our eyes meet as a wicked smile spreads across my face. “Jason, I expected more from you,” I taunt you as I grab your hair and lift your face off the ground. “You probably know what happens next,” I chuckle as I suddenly raise my knee into the air, aiming it straight at your face. "Sleep well, Jason!"

JASON LUNDQUIST:

I get my hands up in time but the knee blasts me to my back anyway, rocking me hard. Fuck. FUCK! The horror that I might lose again starts to seep into my stunned brain. I see the vague, fuzzy form of you descending on me, and I do something I never thought I'd do. I'm consoled by the fact that you've already done it to me this match, and that you fucking deserve it. I fire my right heel hard at your groin, trying to smash your nuts so hard they pop.

DREAM BREAKER:

I don't see it coming. I didn´t even expected you to be able to do it. And yet here it is! Your sole hits squarely between my two big stones crushing both of them in one single shot. My mouth drops wide open as I collapse on top of you, bury my face into your chest, drooling, screaming, completely unable to plan my next move. All I can do is to stay conscious. I feel sick; the pain spreads quickly from my lower abdomen throughout my entire body, causing me to convulse and double over as if having a seizure, while I roll away from you and eventually fall onto my side in the fetal position on the floor. I can’t move, I can’t even think as I slide my hand between my legs to tend to my aching balls, making sure they’re still in one piece in my sack.

JASON LUNDQUIST:

I get up as you're cradling your balls in the fetal position. I put my hand on your head like a setter for a place kicker and blast you in the face with a soccer kick, my shin hitting your head like a baseball bat. Even sounds almost the same, the lack of muscle between my shin and your skull generating a solid "crack" sound as my leg thunders into your temple. Never gotten to throw one of these before in a fight. Kicks to the head of a downed opponent are Illegal in MMA in the states. Gotta fight in Japan to get to do them.

DREAM BREAKER:

I see your kick coming, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it or dodge it, thanks to my crushed testicles. I feel my jawbone snap as my head flies violently to the side, nearly snapping my neck. My heavy body follows my head, flying onto my side as I nearly lose consciousness while rolling onto my stomach. My self-preservation instinct drives me to crawl forward, trying to put some distance between us. The crowd shouts your name as you move behind me.

JASON LUNDQUIST:

I sit on your back. I could choke you here. I could just...put you out, strip your shorts, and fuck you for the win. But the fucking...rage is possessing me. All the fucking humiliation I've endured the last months. All the pain you caused. My brothers--you sent the video to my brothers. Yeah, they were all consoling, but there's no way they see me the same anymore. They used to think I was fucking invincible, then... And the nightmares. You on top of me. Fucking me. My baby brother Johnny finding me the next day, beaten up, tied up, fucked in every hole. Fuck. FUCK! It all fucking boils over. I start firing down punch after punch, hammerfist after hammerfist, elbow after elbow, at your fucking head. I don't care how many of them hit the back. There are no fucking rules. The strikes are bouncing your head off the floor. Then when even that isn't enough I yank your head up, grab you by the chin with my right and by the temple with my left. One good, hard twist and you're dead--nobody could stop me. I want to. I want to so fucking bad. The crowd sees it. They're silent. "JASON!" I hear somebody screaming. Johnny. Johnny's voice. "DON'T!" he yells.

DREAM BREAKER:

I feel the strong grip of your hands around my head as your muscles tense. I just hope you succeed on your first try and that it will all be over—until you suddenly stop. Your brother’s panicked voice makes you pause to think, but will it make you change your mind? “Wimp, do it if you’re a man,” I mutter in pain, my voice full of contempt, as I try to struggle beneath you in vain. You hesitate. Are you showing weakness or wisdom? I’ll find out soon!

JASON LUNDQUIST:

No. I won't kill you in front of my brother. I've crossed some boundaries today, but not that one. I hear you goading me, but I can hear the fear behind it. I change my controls, snaking an RNC around your neck before you can react to me releasing your head. It's immediately tight, my chest driving your head forward and down into the strangle. All blood, no trachea. You're gonna go peacefully to sleep. When you wake up, I'll have fucked you and won. Or maybe be in the middle of it. I guess we'll see. I whisper in your ear. "You're not worth my soul, big man."

DREAM BREAKER:

Blessed unconsciousness takes me under its wing at some point. I don’t know how much time has passed or what has happened in the meantime when I suddenly jolt awake and feel you on top of me. Your thick, veiny cock is still inside me as I fill my lungs with air, and with what feels like a miracle’s strength, I strike with my elbow, aiming for your side while trying to slam the back of my head against your face. But I’m still dizzy, powerless, and I don’t know if my blow even comes close to its target.

JASON LUNDQUIST:

The crowd has just screamed "Six!" as I thrust into you for the sixth time when you wake up. You fire your head back but my posture is way too high. You try to elbow me but you can barely turn, because your left arm is bent, fist driven up your back, held by my left hand in a hammer lock so deep the leverage would stop you from escaping it even if you weren't so damaged and weak. It must feel like your elbow and shoulder are gonna break. I don't really care. "Here's the deal, Alex. We're at six. You're gonna count me the rest of the way or you're gonna leave here with several more broken bones." I make a shushing gesture to the crowd to get them to stop counting, stop screaming, stop cheering. We're all gonna hear you count the last four. I put my right hand on the back of your head smashing your face into the floor, then pull back a little and drive my meaty 8-incher myself deep back inside. "Count loud, Alex," I command, low and venomous.

DREAM BREAKER:

I struggle under your weight and try to pretend to be tough knowing deep inside I have lost the fight the most humiliated way possible. "FUCK YOU .. YOU WILL NEVER MAKE ME TO OBEY YOU!"

JASON LUNDQUIST:

I start to press harder on the hammerlock, but then I realize--you probably would let me break everything in your body to avoid submitting like that. Well. Almost everything. I take my right hand off your skull, reach back between your legs for your balls, pressed into the floor by your belly-down position. I grab them. Squeeze them. Then yank them to the end of your sack's flexibility, exposing them on the floor just behind your butt. Then I put my right knee on top of them. I return my right hand to your head. "I'm gonna fucking neuter you if you don't count, Alex." I start to press my knee down on your balls. "So what number was that again?"

DREAM BREAKER:

I can feel your weight growing on top of my balls, which are trapped between your thighs. I know you’re serious and could actually destroy those oval organs that make me a man. That would be worse than death. “SIX,” I scream in panic as you press your knee against my balls and thrust your throbbing cock even deeper into my aching ass. My cock is getting rock hard between my abs and the canvas as I feel you pulling out and thrust back again. "SEVEN", your cock head hits my joynut making my cock to leak precum while my nuts are getting more and more flattened under your weight.

JASON LUNDQUIST:

Fuck yeah. My cock gets diamond hard as you submit to my demands. I keep the pressure on your balls just enough, then slowly retract and drive myself back in again. 'Eight' you scream, the only sound in the room except for gasps and the wet sounds of fucking. Out. Back in. 'Nine' you cry, almost sobbing. I can feel my balls starting to churn. I can feel you starting to tense up too. I switch grips on the hammer lock. Lean forward. Grab your head. Pull it up, my fingers in your mouth - you're gonna have to work hard to make the last count heard. I drive my hips in one final time.

DREAM BREAKER:

My cock throbs wildly, uncontrollably beneath my abs as I erupt like some fucking volcano, spewing thick white lava beneath me while I scream "TEN" through your fingers, my voice almost breaking, just as I feel the hot surge slamming into me with force. Your thick seed fills my hungry, narrow tunnel as you pump load after load of your hot man juice inside me. I collapse onto my pool of cum, powerless, beaten, as the audience laughs at me and jerks off while watching you finish me off with your thick cock. Finally, my mind goes dark again and I’m left twitching on the canvas, nearly unconscious, feeling your hot cum slowly seep out of my crushed sphincter

JASON LUNDQUIST:

I ride you a little longer, until we both stop spasming, but instead of enjoying the afterglow, I withdraw from you with a little 'pop.' Some cum spills out of your ruined hole. I slide forward, securing a second RNC--you're almost unconscious anyway, but I'm gonna need a little time for what I have planned. In a few seconds I have you out. By the time you wake back up, you're secured in a pretty humiliating position. Back up against the turnbuckle. Knees triple-zip-tied to the second rope, pulled back to your chest. Hands secured behind your back and behind the post with two sets of flex cuffs. Your hole exposed. And there's a long line of people--many of whom you recognize, standing outside the ring. I'm still naked, but I'm holding both of our sets of shorts. I look at you as you swim back up to consciousness. "I don't want your body, Alex. Not gonna fuck you in all your holes. But there are some folks here who might, so I've passed my stakes onto them," I say with a smirk. The folks who have lined up are all people you've previously beaten and fucked. It's gonna be a rough night for you. But you're alive. In my book you got off easy. I leave the ring, leaving you to your fate.

DREAM BREAKER:

"NO! DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!" I scream at the top of my lungs when I realize what you've done. But you don't listen to me and disappear into your room. I feel a crowd of men forming behind me, all their cocks stiff with the desire to finally breed this big man. By the time the third man gets to me, I lose consciousness, and the rest is a blur.

I wake up hours later. The place is empty, and I’m untied. Shivering, I pull myself together and stagger to my locker room...

Published: 2026-05-22, viewed 96 times.