THE HIGH TABLE

The Muscle Sloth Lair was packed and buzzing with raw excitement. This was a best-of-three falls Cruiserweight Title match under standard pro wrestling rules — pins and submissions allowed. The crowd was split between the young champion’s athletic supporters and those rooting for the gritty veteran challenger.

David “The Ginger Stunner,” the 28-year-old defending champion, entered first. At 5’9” and 170 pounds of ripped muscle, he looked sharp and confident. His 48” chest, 16” biceps, and powerful 20” thighs flexed under the lights as he moved in tight black trunks. His short ginger hair shining under the lights, and the prominent bulge of his 9-inch cock and big balls was already noticeable.

Dan Freyr-Sullivan, the 45-year-old tournament winner, followed with heavy steps. The shaved-head brawler was a menacing sight at 5’9” and 186 pounds. His heavily tattooed, hairy body boasted a 49” chest, 18” biceps, and massive 28” thighs. His thick ginger moustache and beard framed a scarred, determined face, while his red trunks strained against his 9-inch uncut cock with its steel PA and low-hanging balls.

The two men moved to the center as they ref checked their gear then move back as the two warriors traded some pre-fight trash talk.

David smirked confidently, looking Dan up and down. “You’re a tough old bastard, I’ll give you that. But tonight you’re just a stepping stone. I’m faster, I’m better trained, and I’m gonna make you tap like the washed-up brawler you are.”

Dan chuckled deeply, stepping chest-to-chest with the younger man, their hard pecs nearly touching. “Big words for a pretty-boy technician. Ya got fancy moves and a tight little body, kid… but I been breakin boys like you for twenty years. I’m gonna drag ya into the dirt, wear that purty ginger ass down, and leave ya limpin out of here. That title’s comin home with me, boy.”

David laughed and gave Dan a light shove. “We’ll see if those big hairy thighs can keep up when I’m chaining holds on you. Try not to cum in your trunks when I school you.”

Dan grinned wickedly, adjusting his heavy bulge. “Keep talkin, Stunner. When I’m done ragdollin ya around this ring, I might just fuck that attitude right out of ya in front of all these people.”

The referee stepped between them as the tension crackled. The crowd was roaring.

The bell rang.

FALL ONE

The Ginger Stunner

The bell clangs, and the sound vibrates straight through the soles of my boots. This is my ring. My title.​ I circle you keeping my weight low and balanced on my powerful 20 inch thighs. I can feel the eyes of the entire Lair on us, split between my supporters and the old school crowd rooting for your gritty, washed up ass. I look at your heavy tattooed frame, your thick ginger beard, and the ridiculous steel PA straining against your red trunks. You think you're going to bully me. I’m going to humiliate you.​ We lock up, and the impact is a solid, sweaty slam of raw muscle. Our chests collide with a heavy smack. Immediately I feel your brute strength. Your 18 inch tattooed arms wrap around me, trying to bulldoze me straight into the turnbuckle using your extra weight. But I’m not some rookie you can just ragdoll. I go to drive my feet into the canvas, my tight black trunks brushing against yours as I hope to hold my ground, gritting my teeth. Hoping to say those immortal words to you ​"Is that all you got old man?" I grunt right into your hairy shoulder, making sure you hear the smirk in my voice., and waiting to see if you’re going to, ​instead answer, or you slip your arm under my chin as I anticipated and try to lock or something else, but I don't give you a chance as I’m too fast, too smart. ​I spot my opening. I go to place my hand right on your massive hip, hoping to push off with everything I've got, and whip you off into the ropes. Hoping you rebound as I go to drop low to the canvas. Expecting you to leap right over me, expecting a standard leapfrog.​ But when you turn back, I’m hoping to be already airborne. As I go to launch myself into a beautiful, lightning fast dropkick, hoping to plant both of my boots squarely into your massive 49 inch chest.​ Hoping the impact sends you crashing to the mat with a heavy, satisfying thud. As I hope to stand my ground with a cocky grin. ​"Come and get it Sullivan!"

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

The bell rings and we waste no time as our bodies collide in the center of the ring. Our heads against each other’s shoulders as I hear the smirk in that comment and growl back, “I got plenty more for you, title boy.” I slide that arm under yer chin and try and twist ya into a side headlock but yer havin none of that as ya grab my big thigh and WHIP me into the ropes from ya. I hit the ropes and rebound back fast about to push off my boots and try for a shoulder tackle but then next thing I see is them big black boots of yers as they SLAMMMMMMMMMM into my big chest! “UUUUUUUUFFFFFFFFF!!!!” I grunt out as I get knocked on my back and ass to the canvas! WHAMMMMM1!! The ring shakin from the impact. But we’re just gettin started and this was just foreplay as far as I’m concerned. I roll away and get back to my feet and CHARGE toward ya with my fists up. I swing my right arm up goin for a forearm smash to yer chest but it’s just a dodge as I suddenly GRAB yer shoulders and bring my right knee up and DRIVE it up into abs good and hard, then let yer shoulders go and bring my arms up as ya double over and SLAMMMM that double axe handle down across yer back! “How ya like me now ginger boy?” I snarl!

The Ginger Stunner

The knee to my abs knocks the breath right out of my lungs, and that heavy double axe handle across my spine sends a white hot shockwave of pain straight down to my boots. I stumble forward, dropping to one knee on the canvas, gasping for air as the Lair crowd gasps and cheers.​You stand over me, snarling your trash talk, looking down at me like you’ve already won.​But I’m 28 in the absolute prime of my life, and that pain only feeds my adrenaline. I wipe a streak of sweat from my forehead, looking up at you through my ginger hair with a sudden vicious grin.​"I’m still standing old man" I wheeze my voice dripping with pure venom. "And your breath smells like liver and onions."​Before you can even register the insult I explode off the canvas. As you step in to grab me again I dive low, slipping right under your massive hairy arms. I wrap my arms around your thick 28 inch thighs, drive my shoulder deep into your gut and lift.​With a roar of pure determination I hoist all 186 lbs of your tattooed body up onto my shoulders, taking you up high before driving you spine first down into the mat with a thunderous, rib cracking Spinebuster!​WHAAAAMMMM!!! The entire ring shakes the ropes violently trembling from the impact. The crowd goes absolutely wild.​But I’m not letting you breathe. I don't even stand up. I immediately scramble over your broad, hairy chest, pinning your massive shoulders down with my body weight. I press my forearm hard against your windpipe, grinding my elbow right into your scarred face, our sweaty bodies locked tight.​"How do you like the view from down there Dan?" I snarl right into your face my chest heaving against yours as I squeeze the breath out of you.

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

I do hear that comment but I’m already reachin for yer head with my big hands to grab it and see how hard I can rattle yer brain on the turnbuckle, but before I can, ya LAUNCH off the canvas grabbin my thighs in yer hands and DRIVIN that shoulder into my gut! “OOOOOOOOOOFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!” I yell out as IU get lifted up off my feet! I bring my fists up again for another double axe handle turn ya twist and SLAMMMMMMMMMM me down to the canvas in that spinebuster! The ring shakin so hard the front row of fans moves back in case it collapses as I HOWL out with a ROARRRRRRRRRRR! My head and back SLAMMMMMMMMEDDDDD into the canvas stunnin me hard and my arms and legs flyin in all directions! Ya don’t wait as ya straddle my hairy tatted chest and SHOVE that forearm across my throat, taunting me. My eyes glassy from that move as ya sit on top of me. I try to grab at that arm I try and clear my head but yer knees have my shoulders pinned down and I cain’t get my arms loose to grab at yer arm. My red boots kick at the canvas as I twist and struggle under ya. I start pumpin my big knees up and back SLAMMIN into yer muscled back over and over tryin to knock this big hot muscled stud off me before he chokes me out and ends me.

The Ginger Stunner

I feel the violent, desperate jolts of your massive, 28 inch thighs as you start pumping your knees up. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Your heavy knees smash repeatedly into my muscled lower back, and thighs sending jolts of agony through my spine. You’re trying to buck me off like a wild stallion, and with your weight advantage, the leverage is brutal. My teeth grit, and a harsh grunt escapes my throat as the sheer impact of your knees threatens to break my posture. But I am the champion for a reason. I refuse to let you throw me off. Instead of fighting the bucking motion I use your own momentum against you. As you pump your knees up once more to throw me forward, I suddenly release the choke, slide my weight down your chest, and hook my arms deep behind your thick knees. With a roar of effort I fold your massive, hairy legs back toward your ears stacking all of your 186 lb. frame onto your own neck and shoulders in a brutal crushing pin! “One!”............. the referee yells dropping to his hands and knees, slapping the canvas. I push my chest hard against your thick thighs, using every ounce of my weight to keep your shoulders pinned flat against the mat, staring straight down at your struggling bearded face. “Two!”.............. “Kick out of this old man!” I snarl my muscles screaming under the strain as I try to steal the very first fall right here!

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

This tough muscled hot grappler holdin me down as he keeps me trapped and under his control. I hear the “One!” and the slap of the ref’s hand on the canvas as I growl and grunt and twist as best I can. I hear the ref yell out and slap the canvas "Two!" and hear ya snarl "Kick out of this old man!" With a guttural, primal roar that echoes through the arena, I explode. My arms free I reach up and grab onto yer head twistin it to one side as my thick neck and traps bulge and I bridge with everythin I got, drivin my shoulders off the mat. I thrust my massive legs straight, usin every ounce of power I got hopin that’ll make yer grip slip just enough as I roll violently to the left, turnin my body like a tank, tryin to shift yer weight forward and make ya tumble over me. Hopin that this gets my legs free as I try and wrap my thighs around yer head and one arm to roll on top and try to reverse this into a side body triangle. "Get the fuck off me, boy..." I growl, sweat drippin from my beard onto yer face as I start twist and struggle against ya.

The Ginger Stunner

You bridge with a terrifying old man strength, your massive shoulders lifting off the mat as your sweaty hands grab my head. I gasp as you wrench my neck your brute power forcing my grip to slip just enough for you to roll violently to the left. CLANG! Our sweat slicked bodies roll together, and for a split second, I feel like I’m trying to hold down a turning tank. Your massive hairy thighs come swinging around my neck and arm, trying to clamp down into a suffocating side body triangle. The crowd is on its feet roaring at the sudden reversal. I can smell the stale sweat and beard oil on you as you growl right into my face “Get the fuck off me boy...” But you forgot one thing I’m faster than you, and I’m a submission specialist. Before you can fully lock your thick thighs around my head to squeeze I tuck my chin deep into my chest defending my airway. Using your rolling momentum I don’t resist the tumble I accelerate it. I slip my trapped arm free plant my palms on the canvas and use my explosive 20 inch thighs to spring completely over your shifting body. In a flash of ginger hair and black trunks I bypass your guard entirely. Before you can even realize I’m not on your chest anymore I drop my full weight right onto your back. I wrap my arms around your thick chin and hook my fingers behind your head, sinking in a lightning fast, bone deep Rear Naked Choke! I wrap my legs around your waist, locking in a body scissors with my powerful thighs to keep your 186 lb. frame completely anchored to the mat. “Who’s getting off who?” I hiss right into your ear squeezing my biceps together with everything I have left. “Tap out Dan! Tap out!”

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

That escape worked…kind of. But, then ya tuck yer chin under keepin me from getting my thighs around yer neck and before I can twist or roll out, yer on me again showin yer expertise with submission holds as ya SLAM on top of me and lock in that brutal Rear Naked Choke! I HOWL out in frustration as I’m gettin schooled here and tied up so fast, I cain’t think fast enough to fight back. But I know I gotta try at least. It might not work, but damnit, I gotta try. I feel the burn of yer bicep against my carotid and yer thighs slicin into my waist. Yer hot breath in my ear tellin me “Tap out Dan! Tap out!”

A deep, savage growl builds in my chest. I pull in as much air as I can before ya lock in that choke and clamp both my hands on yer chokin wrist and yank it down as hard as I can, tryin to create an inch of space to keep my air goin. I try and tuck my bearded jaw against yer forearm as I snarl, “Fuck…you…” through gritted teeth. I try to plant my boots into the canvas and bridge UP, liftin both of us off the canvas for a second as I try and roll to the left, hopin to break that scissors. Those muscled legs of yers cuttin into me like saws though. I keep tryin to roll, but yer arms SNAP back under my jaw so damn fast! If I could just roll enough to get one knee planted I could try and rise up off the canvas. My head is throbbin hard as yer arms press into my carotid and throat deeper. The pressure so intense that my nose starts drippin blood and I feel myself slippin away as my eyes get glassy and my breathin becomes more ragged. I push with whatever I have left tryin to fight back, but it’s not enough as I drop back down to the canvas, spit runnin out my mouth as I bring my right hand up and weakly tap against yer arm, signalin my submission before I go out cold in yer choke.

The Ginger Stunner

I feel every desperate, agonizing surge of your massive body as you try to bridge and break my grip. Your tatted shoulders rise your heavy boots dig into the canvas, and for a second, we're suspended in the air. But my 20 inch thighs are locked like iron around your waist, our sweat cementing us together.​I feel your hands desperately clawing at my wrist your bearded jaw grinding against my forearm as you spit out those last defiant words "Fuck!...you!..."​"Not tonight old man" I think gritting my teeth as the sheer adrenaline surges through my veins.​As we crash back down to the canvas I tighten the vise. I slide my choke arm even deeper locking my biceps and squeezing with every ounce of power I possess. I can feel your heart hammering frantically against my chest, the hot, ragged gasps of your breath slowing down, and the sudden, heavy limpness starting to take over your massive 186 lb. frame. Your head thrashes weakly, and I feel the warm smear of sweat and blood from your nose against my arm.​You're fading fast. I know it you know it, and the referee is leaning in close, checking your arm.​ Then I feel it. The weak desperate thud of your hand tapping against my bicep. Once. Twice. Three times.​ DING DING DING!​ The referee violently pulls me off you, waving his hands to signal the end of the first submission. I release the hold rolling off your broad, hairy back and collapsing onto the canvas for a brief second to catch my breath. My chest is heaving, my muscles are burning, but as I scramble back to my feet and look down at you recovering on the mat, a massive, arrogant smirk cuts across my face.​One submission to zero.​ I step over to the turnbuckle climbing the ropes to look out at the roaring crowd, throwing my hands up in the air. I look back down at you, wiping the sweat from my ginger hair. "That's one Dan! You ready to go to sleep again?"

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

The ref pulls ya off me as the bell rings signalin the end of the first fall. Ya let me go as I drop to the canvas on my back, heavin and gaspin and tryin to suck in air as fast as I can. My vision is cloudy but clearin as I see two of ya climb the ropes flexin for the crowd. The ref checkin me to make sure I can continue and I wave him off with one hand as I manage to sit up and roll over on all fours. My vision clear now as I slowly get to my feet and see ya look down at me, tauntin me. I move back to my corner as I work to catch my breath and for a moment, I think to myself what the hell made me think I could be a contender for this. But I push that thought away. I’ve come too far and worked too hard for this. I’ve got to come back in the next fall and show what I can do as I watch ya across the ring and hear the crowd cheerin yer name. I adjust my trunks and nod to the ref that I’m ready as he looks at me then at you and calls for the bell to start to the second fall.

WINNER FALL ONE: THE GINGER STUNNER

FALL TWO

The Ginger Stunner

The bell clangs to start the second fall, submission or knockout, and the Lair is practically shaking. I hop down from the turnbuckle feeling like an absolute god. My chest is heaving my muscles are pumped and slick with our combined sweat, but the adrenaline is keeping the fatigue at bay. I look across the ring at you. You’re slowly pulling yourself up wiping the blood from your nose, nodding to the ref that you’re ready to go. I can see the grit in your eyes, but I also see the toll that first fall took on you. You’re 45 and I just choked you half to sleep. I slowly walk toward the center of the ring, keeping my hands up, a smug, relaxed grin plastered on my face. “Should’ve stayed down Dan” I call out, my voice easily carrying over the roar of the crowd. “Your husband’s gonna have to push you home in a wheelchair if you keep this up.” I start circling you again my boots squeaking against the canvas. I’m expecting you to come out swinging like a wounded animal. You have to. You’re down a fall, and desperation is a dangerous thing in a brawler like you. I keep my distance just out of reach of those heavy, tattooed arms, waiting for you to make the first move, ready to dodge and exploit the opening when you overextend. “Show me what you’ve got left, old man.”

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

So that first fall taught me a lot and the biggest thing I learnt was that this hot muscled champion is definitely an expert at submission holds and has the speed to move from one to another quick and fast. Got to watch out for that and I can see the fire in yer eyes still. I wipe at the blood on my nose and lock my eyes on yers and grin. Then, I lick the blood on my hand off with my tongue as if I’m enjoyin it. I listen to yer mouth runnin as we start circlin again. The crowd cheerin and roarin but I ain’t payin that no attention. All my focus is on this match and you. Yer taunts are meant to throw me off and make me rush in, but this time I ain’t bitin. I reach down grippin my big bulge and snarl, “Oh I got plenty left for you, muscle boy. And yer gonna take it and like too, ya back alley Manchester slut dog.” I could charge in and try and tackle ya down, but I tried that and it din’t work. Need somethin to catch ya off guard with. Somethin yer not expectin. Suddenly, I come in fast, arms up and hands open to grab at yer shoulders. But, at the last moment, I DROP and grab yer ankles as I RAM my shoulders into yer muscled thighs knockin ya off yer feet onto yer back and don’t wait a moment. He wants fast combos and I got one for him. I twist yer legs by yer ankles flippin ya over on yer chest even before yer body finishes hittin the canvas and LEAP on top of ya, straddlin yer back as all 186 lbs. of me SLAMS down on top of yer back. Movin fast, I grab yer muscled arms and SHOVE em over my knees then LOCK my hands under yer chin and CRANK yer neck back as I execute a perfect camel clutch on yer ass and BENDDDDDDDDD yer spine back pullin yer head and neck up as my thighs SLICE into yer sides tight lockin the hold in as tight as I can. Lookin down into yer face, I grin and snarl, “Well, ya wanted speed and quick moves, boy…now ya got a brawler on yer back and I ain’t lettin go! Now what’s that trash mouth gotta say, huh?”

The Ginger Stunner

The sudden transition catches me completely off guard. One second I’m waiting for a strike, and the next, your heavy 186 lb. body slams down onto my back knocking the wind out of me as I face plant into the canvas. Before I can roll, you hook my arms over your thick knees and lock your hands under my chin, cranking my head back with agonizing torque. CRACK!.... My spine arches backward at a sickening angle. The pressure of your thighs slicing into my ribs is suffocating, and the Camel Clutch is locked in deep. “Well ya wanted speed and quick moves boy… now ya got a brawler on yer back and I ain’t letting go! Now what’s that trash mouth gotta say huh?” My neck is being pulled back so hard I can feel the blood rushing to my ears, but I’m not tapping out that easily. I grit my teeth a guttural groan ripping from my throat. I look down at my own body my powerful 20 inch thighs are flexing wildly, and the prominent, heavy 9 inch bulge of my cock and balls is straining visibly against the tight black fabric of my trunks as I wriggle and thrust my hips desperately searching for any leverage against the canvas. I manage to turn my head just enough to loosen the choke on my windpipe spitting a mix of sweat and saliva onto the mat. “Is this... all you got... grandpa?” I wheeze out my voice raspy but still dripping with pure arrogance. “My grandmother... hugs harder... than this!” I know I can’t just slide out of this hold; you’ve got me trapped. If I want to survive, I have to make this ugly. I have to turn this match into a flat out, back alley brawl. Instead of trying to peel your hands off, I start fighting dirty. I blindly reach back with my right hand, searching for your face, clawing my fingers toward your eyes and digging my nails into your scarred cheek. At the same time I violently thrust my hips upward aiming to throw your balance off.

I start firing blind backward elbows, aiming for your ribs, your thighs, anything I can reach to chip away at your resolve. I want you angry Dan. I want you to stop wrestling me and start trying to kill me, because that’s exactly when you’ll make a mistake.

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

With ya trapped like this under me and me workin yer head and neck and back brutally, I’m feelin that I got a little of my own self back. I’ve had big tough men submit in this hold and I’m submitted in this hold so I know what the pain and torture is like and I know that even though ya might not submit just yet, yer definitely realizin that I ain’t just big dumb muscle fucker ya can throw around for yer own pleasure. Yer muscled body flexin hard as I can feel my own uncut 9” cock throbbin against yer sweaty muscled back. Ya manage to twist yer head enough to loosen the choke…or did I let ya do that just to see what ya might do? Either way, I grin as that mouth runs again, raspy but still as arrogant as fuck. Good, yer still with me and still got plenty of spirit left. Then, ya do exactly what I hoped ya would. That hand blindly reaches back at my face. I growl, “Oh no, ya don’t boy. I ain’t gonna…” Suddenly yer clawin fingers find the scar of my face and RAKE it, tearin it open as blood drips down from it onto ya. I ROAR out from that but even more so as them elbows of yers start firin back hittin blindly but makin good contact. Now, we’re in my classroom and yer a damn good student. I let go of yer chin and head and shove yer elbows off my thighs lettin em drop, but I ain’t done yet as I get to my feet and STOMP my big right boot to yer lower back…BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Three hard stomps to it workin that spine of yer hard. I reach down with my left hand grabbin yer head up and twistin ya around by it so yer on yer knees facin me and just as I get ya turned around my right fist comes around like a cannonball and BAMMMMMMMMMMMMM…rocks right across yer jaw connectin with that purty face of yers and I grin watchin the sweat fly as I move back outta yer reach before ya can attack. My big fists up and a snarl across my bearded face, drippin with the blood from my scar as I growl, “WELCOME TO MY WORLD, BIG MAN! YA WANNA STREET FIGHT…BRING IT ON!”

The Ginger Stunner

BAMMM! Your fist connects with my jaw like a freight train, sending a spray of sweat and saliva flying into the air. My head snaps back, my vision flashing white as I stumble backward against the ropes. The Lair crowd is deafening, completely unglued by the sheer violence of this second fall. You stand there, your scarred face dripping with fresh blood, snarling ”WELCOME TO MY WORLD, BIG MAN! YA WANNA STREET FIGHT… BRING IT ON!” I spit a mouthful of blood onto the canvas, wiping my chin with the back of my hand. My jaw is throbbing, and my spine feels like it’s been run over by a truck, but the pain just makes me laugh. A wild manic grin spreads across my face as I stare back at you. My 9 inch bulge is straining hard against my black trunks, pumped up by the raw combative energy of this brawl. "You think a little blood scares me grandpa?” I roar back my voice dripping with pure adrenaline. “I’m going to paint this fucking ring with your old man blood!” Instead of backing away to recover I sprint off the ropes, using the rebound to launch myself forward with terrifying speed. You expect another punch another grapple, but I’m going for pure unadulterated violence. I launch my entire 170 lb. body through the air tucking my chin and drive the hard crown of my skull directly into your bloodied forehead in a devastating.......Flying Headbutt! CRACK!......... The sickening sound of our skulls colliding echoes through the arena. The impact rattles my own brain, but it hits you ten times harder. We both collapse to the mat, but I scramble up like a rabid dog, refusing to give you a single second to breathe. I throw myself back on top of your massive chest pinning you down. I’m not looking for a submission anymore I want a knockout. I start raining down brutal, closed fist right hands and heavy forearms directly into your bloodied, and bearded face. ......BOOM!....BOOM!....BOOM!....

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

I see ya stagger back from that shot and cain’t help but grin as this has turned into what we both were cravin…a brutal street fight and I can already see the beast in yer eyes as we glare at each other from across the ring. I got a feelin yer not gonna back down and ya prove me right as ya come chargin at me and I already know what yer gonna do. This is gonna hurt but fuck, I live for pain anyway! It fuckin turns me on! Right before ya make contact, I swing my right hand up and RAKE it down yer face over yer eyes nose and mouth draggin my fingernails down yer handsome face. That sick sound of skulls collidin in the ring as the blood sprays off both our faces and we DROP to the canvas as the crowd is on their feet! Both of us busted open now as ya scramble on top of me and start a ground and pound on my face! Now, THIS is what I call a match! Them fists keep rainin down on me as ya pin me down but I ain’t done yet as I plant my boots and bridge UP enough I can get my fists free and then I start FIRIN and SLUGGIN my fists back into yer face as the sweat spit and blood flies like crazy! Both of us snarlin and growlin as we slug and punch and batter each other’s bloody faces, tradin shots back and forth with signs of stoppin! I snarl back, “YA CALL THEM PUNCHES FUCKER? IVE HAD WORSE BUG BITES YA BIG MUSCLE STUD!” I bridge UP again as hard as I can to try and THROW ya off me as the fists keep comin and the blood just splatters off both of us!

The Ginger Stunner

The pain of your fingernails raking across my eyes is blinding, but the adrenaline pulsing through my veins completely overrides it. Blood from my forehead pours down stinging my eyes, mixing with the sweat and your own blood as we roll in a chaotic red streaked mess on the canvas.​I’m on top of you, raining down blows, but you’re a 186 lb. tank of a veteran. You bridge violently your massive tattooed chest lifting my weight, and suddenly your own heavy fists are firing back up at my face.​BAM!......CRACK!......SLAM!...... We are trading absolute bombs. There’s no technique left no flashy cruiserweight moves just two prideful, hard muscled ginger beasts battering each other's faces in a pool of sweat and crimson. Every time my fist connects with your jaw yours hits mine right back. Sweat, spit, and blood splatter off us with every impact painting our chests and trunks.​"YA CALL THEM PUNCHES FUCKER? I'VE HAD WORSE BUG BITES YA BIG MUSCLE STUD!" you snarl your bearded face a mask of crimson.​ I spit blood directly onto your chest, a wild, half crazed laugh escaping my throat as you bridge again trying to throw me off. Your massive thighs thrust upward shifting my center of gravity. ​"You talk too much for a guy who's about to go down!" I roar back my voice raw and hoarse.​ Instead of letting you buck me off I ride the momentum of your bridge. As my body is lifted I transition instantly. I plant my hands on your chest, vaulting my legs up and over, and in one fluid desperate motion, I hook my arm around your bloodied neck, leaping backward to drag you down with me.​TORNADO DDT!...... WHAAAAM!!!.......

I spike your head directly into the canvas with sickening force. The impact echoes through the entire Lair. We both sprawl out on the mat, completely spent, gasping for air as the referee frantically checks on both of our battered, bloody bodies. I roll over onto my stomach, my muscles twitching, my tight trunks soaked in sweat and blood, slowly dragging myself toward your limp arm to make the cover.

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

The crowd’s roars and cheers all around us now as we’ve become two feral ginger animals bent on beatin and punishin each other as much as we can in what’s become a wild brutal battle of beef and between us, we both can feel the attraction to one another. However this turns out, we both know there’s gonna be some hot action later in private…that is, if either one of us survives this! The blows flyin back and forth between us and I see ya spit that blood on my chest and damned if that don’t make my fuckin uncut cock THROB and LEAD precum in my sweaty, blood streaked trunks! I bridge UP as HIGH as I can and suddenly ya show yer expertise again as ya execute that perfect tornado DDT and SPIKE my head into the canvas! A loud SNAP can be heard as I hit and I ROAR out as my body DROPS to the canvas on my back. Somethin snapped or maybe broke on impact for sure. Both of us sprawled out on the mat and our faces bloody masks and nearly unrecognizable now! Sweat and blood runnin off both of us like water as the lay there heavin…gaspin…pantin…chests and guts risin and fallin…both stunned and dazed. The ref movin in to check on us and I see him grin as he notices BOTH of our bulges are tented hard as fuck.

I take a few moments…minutes? Who knows at this point but I lay there twitchin and shakin knowin yer gonna take yer time gettin to me. I try and raise my head and drop it back down with a grimace. Yup, somethin snapped in there but I can still feel my arms and legs so my neck ain’t broke. How I dunno, but I’ll take the luck. More like a ligament or muscle got torn or somethin. Lookin up as I manage to wipe the blood outta my eyes and the first thing I see is the scoreboard showin yer first fall win and that zero under my name.

I turn my neck slowly…the pain makin me wince again but I cain’t give up…somethin deep inside me just won’t lemme do that…no matter the cost now. Just as ya get closer to me I whisper, “holy fuck!”…yer in as bad a shape as me as I see the damage I done and know it’s as bad as what ya done to me. I feel yer hand touch my bloody arm and I know yer gonna try and go for a cover. Fuck, this is gonna hurt but I gotta try. I somehow manage to roll onto my side and reach out and grab yer bloody head and SLAMMMMMMMMMMM it down into the canvas as I use a knee to push against yer legs and roll ya over on yer back. Not waitin I let yer head go but cover yer bloody face with my sweaty pit as I drag my muscled sweaty blood-streaked body on top of yers coverin ya as best I can as the ref drop and counts, “ONE!” and SLAPS the mat. He pauses as I whisper, “f-f-fuck…st…st..stay down...man…” The ref counts “TWO!!” and SMACKS the mat again as the crowd’s voices are all around us as the ref raises his hand again.

The Ginger Stunner

The smell of your sweat, the copper sting of our mixed blood, and the crushing weight of your 186 lb. body press down on me. My face is buried right in your hot, muscled armpit as you smother me, pinning my shoulders to the mat. My head is spinning from the impact of that DDT, and my muscles are screaming, but my heart is pounding like a war drum. “ONE!” .......... The referee’s hand slaps the canvas, the sound echoing right in my ringing ears. Underneath you, my own 9 inch bulge is rock hard, pressing fiercely against the front of my black trunks, fully fired up by the primal, bloody intimacy of this absolute war. I can feel your massive, throbbing steel pierced heat pressing right back against me through our soaked trunks. We are destroying each other, and it is the most electric intoxicating feeling in the world. I hear you wheeze out “Ffffuuuuuuccccckkkk… st… st.. stay down... man…” “TWO!!” The canvas vibrates under us. The crowd is screaming, counting along, ready to erupt. I drive my powerful 20 inch thighs into the mat, desperately arching my back to throw you off, but your massive, tatted frame is like a lead weight. You shift your hips, locking your thighs tight and sinking your dead weight completely into my chest, suffocating my leverage.​I struggle, my body twitching, trying to fling my right shoulder up, but my muscles refuse to respond in time under your crushing hold.​“THREE!!!” ​DING DING DING! The arena explodes into an absolute frenzy as the referee signals the fall. You actually did it. You tied the score. ​The weight lifts slightly as you roll off me, both of us collapsed on the canvas, gasping for air in a pool of our own sweat and blood. I roll onto my side, clutching my ribs, staring up at the stadium lights through a red haze. My chest is heaving, my body is battered, but as I spit a mouthful of blood onto the mat, a wild, jagged grin tears across my face.​One to one. The next fall/ submission/ knockout decides it all.

FALL TWO WINNER: DAN FREYR- SULLIVAN

FALL THREE

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

Layin there sort of on top of ya as I hear somethin…then realize it’s the ring bell and it takes me a moment…I…wait…what? Suddenly I realize I’m on TOP of ya and that I won the fall! I hear the crowd explode and don’t need to look up to hear the scoreboard above change that zero to a one under my name. Right in this moment, I dunno if I oughta be happy I pinned ya or nervous about the next fall. My emotions are runnin so high right now and I know yers must be too. Our two big sweaty blood streaked bodies together, I move slowly to roll off ya but as I do, my hand brushes across yer bulgin sweaty trunks and it stops for a minute holdin yer throbbin cock that’s inside yer trunks. I think a small grin crossed my face as that boner of yers tells me yer just as fuckin horny and turned on as I am. I move my hand off of it as I lift off of ya and watch as ya roll painfully onto yer side next to me holdin yer ribs. I slide my nearest leg against yers and grin at ya thru the blood. The crowd’s too busy cheerin and yellin to hear anythin we say and I find my voice and whisper with a slight grin, “not…b…bad…for…an…old…grand…pa…bas…tard…huh?” Our eyes locked I see that slight smirk on yer face that would be a full throated laugh if we weren’t in so much pain right now. I give ya a fast wink that nobody else catches. I slowly start to raise up and say a little louder with a tauntin tone in my voice, “Third…fall…fucker. All…or…nothin. This…is…war…muscle…boy!”

I sit up shakin my head as the sweat and blood sprays. The ref comes over handin each of us a towel to wipe at the blood as I test my neck and wince a little. Yep, definitely a torn ligament or muscle but I’ll survive. That is, if I make it through the third fall. I wipe at my face cleanin the sweat and blood enough that I can see then get to my feet slowly and toss the rag out into crowd, knowin some horny fucker in the Lair will grab it for a souvenir. I keep my eyes on ya as I move back to my corner and collect myself and catch my breath and call out, “Well? Ya gonna just sit there and lemme charge over and pin ya or are ya gonna FINALLY fight me and show me what ya got?” This is more for the fans and the ref than for you, cause ya know it’s just trash talk and I throw ya another wink and quick grin as I wait for ya to get up and we go for the third and final fall.

The Ginger Stunner

Your hand brushing over my groin sends a jolt of pure, white hot adrenaline straight to my core. Under the thin, sweat soaked black fabric of my trunks, my 9 inch cock throbs and hardens into a rock solid steel bar, tenting the fabric so severely it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination of the screaming crowd. I catch your wink through the smear of crimson on your face, and my smirk widens. This isn't just a championship match anymore it's a mutual, brutal mating ritual in front of thousands of screaming fans and it has me completely wired. I take the towel from the ref, wiping the thick, copper tasting blood from my eyes and jaw. I don't throw it. I wring it out letting our mixed sweat and blood drip onto the canvas, before tossing the damp rag straight into the front row. I pull myself up to my feet using the ropes. My spine is screaming from that spine buster and the camel clutch, but my 20 inch thighs are fully loaded, and my chest is pumped to its absolute limit. I stand in my corner my hips thrust slightly forward, my massive, hard bulge straining fiercely against my trunks as I stare you down. "You think you survived the worst of it, Sullivan?" I call back my voice cutting through the arena's roar as I step out of my corner completely ignoring the pain. "You got lucky in the second. But look at you, you're held together by tape and stubbornness. I'm 28, I'm the champion, and I am about to put you out to pasture." The bell clangs for the third and final fall. I don't circle this time. I don't play tactical. I explode across the canvas like a ginger missile, my boots squeaking sharply. I charge straight at you, my eyes locked onto yours, completely intent on breaking whatever you have left and retaining my crown. "Let's finish this old man!" I roar throwing a massive, looping left forearm directly at your bloodied jaw to start the final war!

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

Both of us know what’s at stake here. Both of us want to win this and we both know only one us can walk away the champion. That is, if either of us are able to walk when this is over. I see ya catch my wink and I see that cocky smirk as ya stand in yer corner and our eyes are definitely seein our big bulges standin out hard as fuck. The tension of the fight and the need to win now mixed with an intense sexual attraction that neither of us can deny, even if we tried. I step outta my corner at the same time as ya taunt and trash talk me, but we both know it’s for the audience and we both know how to play this game damn well. The bell rings and there’s nothin holdin us back as we both charge at each other like the two horned up ruttin bulls we are. The ref decides he needs to move and he does just as we collide in the center. That wild loopin left SMASHIN across my jaw as blood and spit SPRAY outta my mouth and I ROAR out as a loud CRACK can be heard, the sound of bone breakin. But I don’t even feel it as I recoil and take a couple steps back and LUNGE swingin my big fight fist up for a HUGE European uppercut into yer jaw! My left hand reaches out grabbin onto the waistband of yer bulgin trunks and I feel ya grab onto mine as well as we both stagger and stumble but neither of us goin down as the brawl that started on the canvas continues with us on our feet, throwin wild punches and fists at each other’s faces and bodies, the howls and groans comin outta both of us only makin both of us more determined and more turned on. The sweat and blood and spit sprayin through the air now like a fine mist as the hand on yer trunks lets go and reaches up GRABBIN onto yer neck and closin down around yer throat as I pull ya in and growl, “ONE…OF…US…IS…GOIN…OUT…YA…SEXY…BEAST!” Holdin yer throat tight in my grip, I start SHOVIN ya backwards into the corner as I whisper, “fuckin hot sexy ginger stud, c’mon…fuckin break me if ya can!”

The Ginger Stunner

The grip of your massive, tattooed hand closes around my throat like a steel vise, cutting off my air as you shove me backward. My back slams hard against the turnbuckle the impact rattling my spine, but the proximity is intoxicating. Your heavy chest is pressed flush against mine, our massive rock hard bulges crushing together through the thin, sweat soaked fabric of our trunks.​ I hear your ragged whisper right against my ear sending a shudder of pure, primal lust straight down my spine “fuckin hot sexy ginger stud c’mon… fuckin break me if ya can!” ​My cock throbs violently against yours leaking precum into my trunks, but the champion in me refuses to go down. If you want me to break you Dan I'm going to oblige.​ I wrap both of my hands behind your thick hairy neck, pulling your head down toward mine with a sudden explosive strength. I don't try to peel your hand off my throat instead I arch my back and drive the hard crown of my skull directly into the bridge of your nose!​ CRACK!..........

The sickening crunch of cartilage echoes over the roar of the crowd. The impact sends a shockwave through my own jaw, but your grip on my throat instantly shatters as you stumble backward, clutching your shattered nose as fresh, dark crimson sprays down your chest and beard. ​I don't give you a single second to recover.​ As you reel from the headbutt I leap forward. I wrap my arm securely around your blood slicked neck, locking you into a tight front facelock.

With a feral roar I kick my legs back, launching both of us into the air, and drive your head straight down into the canvas with a brutal, high impact DDT! ​WHAAAM!!! Your head spikes violently into the canvas, the ring shaking from the weight of your 186 lb. frame crashing down. You roll onto your back completely dazed, your eyes glassy as a thick trail of blood pours from your nose.​ I collapse next to you my chest heaving, my muscles twitching with exhaustion and adrenaline as I stare at your battered beautiful face.

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

My choke tightenin even more cause I know if I let go even for a second yer gonna recover and attack fast and I’m proven right as ya raise up and SLAMMMMMMMMMM yer skull square into my nose as the bone and cartilage SNAP and BREAK as the sound echoes out along with the HOWL of pain as my nose explodes with blood sprayin down both our sweaty chests! I stumble back as bright lights flash in my eyes but they ain’t flashbulbs for damn sure! Ya don’t wait as ya grab me and lock me up in that front facelock. The pain and agony we’ve put each other through is showin on both our faces, well, if I have a face left that is after that.

As ya squeeze and lock that hold down, I start firin hard punches to yer ribs over and over, even diggin my fingers into yer sides like I’m gonna tear yer ribs outta yer body. The growls and snarls comin from both of us is drivin the fans wild as we stay locked in this brutal battle with each other. Somewhere down deep inside ya, ya find the strength to kick back and BOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!! Ya drop my head down into the canvas in that savage DDT! The ring shakin so violently it might come apart as ya spike my head into the canvas as blood EXPLODES out from my forehead and nose, splatterin both of us. My muscled sweaty body rolls over as my arms and legs flop at my sides. My body twitchin and shakin, my eyes glassy and threatenin to roll back in my skull. What used to be my face is masked in crimson as I cough and spit out a couple of bloody molars onto the canvas.

I’m just barely aware of ya next to me as ya collapse beside me. I try to move my jaw but it’s definitely cracked if not broken and I moan out in pain. My whole face feelin like somebody has run it through a meat grinder. My hand closest to ya finds one of yer forearms and grabs at it as I manage to croak out in a raspy tone, “f…fuckkk…fuckkkk…I…I…cain’t…go on…yer…yer…gonna…win…this…stud…I…got…nothin…left…go on…do…it…finish me…and…take…the…belt…” My dreams of winnin this and takin the title from ya disappearin like a feather on the breeze as I cough and shake and moan in agony and pain and a little shame, even though I know I did my best, But, ya deserve this win…we both gave each other our best and I can only hope someday I get another shot at yer title, but for now, this night is yers as I wait for ya to pin me or knock me out.

The Ginger Stunner

Your bloody hand clutches my forearm, your grip weak but heavy with the absolute exhaustion of a man who has given everything he has. Through the thick mask of crimson covering your face your eyes find mine, glassy and fading. Your cracked jaw twitches as you wheeze out those final raspy words. “f…fuckkk…fuckkkk…I…I…can’t…go on…yer…yer…gonna…win…this…stud…I…got…nothin…left…go on…do…it…finish me…and…take…the…belt…” Hearing you call me stud in that broken bloody voice sends a shiver of pure fire straight down to my groin. I look down at our bodies completely painted in each other’s sweat and blood. My 9 inch cock is throbbing so hard against the front of my black trunks it feels like it’s about to burst through the fabric, mirroring the massive, steel pierced bulge straining against your red trunks. We are two ruined, beautiful, primal beasts, and the raw, electric attraction between us is practically humming off our skin. You gave me your absolute best, Dan. You pushed the champion to the very edge of hell. And because I respect you more than any opponent I’ve ever faced, I’m not going to give you a cheap, lazy pin. I’m going to give you the warrior’s finish you deserve. “You’re a hell of a man Dan” I whisper back my own voice hoarse, dripping with a mixture of blood, sweat, and raw affection that only we can hear over the roaring crowd. “Now let’s put you to sleep.” With a grunt of pure effort I drag my battered body up. My 20 inch thighs shake, but they hold my weight as I stand over you. I pull your limp heavy 186 lb. frame up by the shoulders pulling you into a kneeling position. Your head hangs heavily your chest heaving, completely defenseless. I take two steps back, bounce off the ropes to gather the absolute last of my speed, and charge forward.

I launch my knee straight ahead, driving my hard kneecap directly into your bloodied jaw with a thunderous Kamigoye! CRACK!....BOOM!....The impact is absolute. Your head snaps back, and your body goes completely limp, crashing face first into the canvas like a felled redwood. Your eyes roll back your breathing goes shallow, and you are completely utterly out cold. The referee doesn’t even bother to count. He slides in, lifts your limp arm and lets it drop heavily to the mat. DING!.... DING!.... DING!.... “Here is your winner, and STILL the Muscle Sloth Lair Cruiserweight Champion... David The Ginger Stunner!” the ring announcer bellows over the PA system.

The crowd is in a state of absolute deafening hysteria. But I can barely hear them. I collapse onto my knees right next to you, my chest heaving, my head spinning. I don’t celebrate. I don’t climb the turnbuckle. Instead I lay my hand on your broad, tattooed, sweaty back, leaning down close to your ear as the medical staff starts to climb into the ring. “I’ll be waiting for you in the medical room big man” I whisper hotly against your neck, letting my hard bulge press against your hip one last time before the doctors push us apart. “We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do.”

Dan Freyr-Sullivan

All I can do is lay there as I try and steady my own breathin and hopin that ya finish me quick and fast. Ya lean in complimentin me…wait…yer complimentin me? I ain’t sure I heard ya right, but from the grin on yer bloody face I’m guessin I did hear ya right. Ya tell me yer gonna put me to sleep and somehow I got a feelin yer not just gonna do a standard sleeper hold on me…that ain’t yer style at all. I get pulled up into that kneelin position as my head drops against my chest, still spittin out blood and a couple more teeth as well. My jaw hurts like hell and I know it’s broken or at least cracked. I look up just as take them steps back and then ya come RUSHIN at me and my only thought is “where the fuck does he get the energy to move that fast?” That’s the last thought that goes through my brain as yer kneecap BLASTS into my jaw and my head ROCKS back violently as the sound of CRUSHIN bone can be heard…that blow shatterin my jaw so bad my mouth hangs open, droolin bloody spit as I DROP face first to the canvas and not movin at all…obviously knocked out cold!

The ref moves in and lifts one arm and lets it drop and calls for the bell. The announcer makes the call namin ya as the winner and still champion as the medics come in with a stretcher. I don’t hear yer words about waitin for me as the doctors ask ya to move back and they slowly rollin my unconscious sweaty blood streaked body over and lift me gently onto the stretcher and strap my body to it. The Lair crowd roarin and cheerin and callin yer name out over and over louder and louder as the medics lift me up and carry me outta the ring and up the aisle to tend to me as yer left alone in the ring to celebrate yer amazin and hard fought title defense and win.

The Ginger Stunner

The medics swarm the ring, their bright blue latex gloves quickly staining red as they tend to your limp, unconscious body. I slowly back away, leaning heavily against the turnbuckle as they strap you onto the stretcher, stabilizing your shattered jaw.​ My heart is still hammering against my ribs, and my own face is a swollen, throbbing mess of cuts and bruises, but as I watch them carry you up the aisle, my chest swells with pride. Not just because I kept my belt but because of the man I just shared that ring with.​The referee tries to hand me the gold, but my hands are shaking too hard to hold it. I drape the heavy Cruiserweight Championship belt over my shoulder instead the cool metal pressing against my hot blood streaked chest. The Lair crowd is an absolute wall of sound screaming my name, but my eyes stay locked on the double doors at the top of the ramp where they just wheeled your stretcher through. ​I spit one last mouthful of blood onto the canvas grab my championship belt tight and slowly climb down from the ring. My powerful thighs are trembling, and my tight trunks are still heavily tented with a throbbing, aching heat, but I push through the pain. I bypass the cameras and the reporters waiting at the curtain. I don't need the interviews tonight. I make a straight line down the cold concrete corridor toward the medical room the distant cheers of the Lair fading behind me.​ We threw everything we had at each other Dan. We broke bones, spilled blood, and tore the house down. But the real main event is about to happen behind closed doors.

WINNER OF THE MSL CRUISERWEIGHT BELT: DAVE “THE GINGER STUNNER!

Published: 6 days ago, viewed 97 times.