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Old 24-May-17, 01:00
Stone Stone is offline
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Default The New Belt (mixed, prostyle) new weekly story, whole thing

The New Belt
by Stone Kidman

When I was in my early twenties I competed in this local prostyle wrestling league; it had started as a backyard kind of thing with with a homemade ring along with other things we bought from a home depot. They still kept the same materials but used this old motor home as a locker room and showers that was a few feet from the ring. Long story short I was a total jobber so to build up my character I bought my own title belt. You can get them custom made online; I of course had it resemble the old Hulk Hogan eagle belt he had from the 80's. My first match defending my title, which I dubbed The Interstate Championship, was against this chick Wild Wendy Williams; she was nineteen, a couple years younger than me, but was this tall cowgirl themed broad. She's six feet tall, long dark brown hair that went just past her shoulders, kind of thick at around 134 pounds with her D cups pushing up out of her cow print halter top. She comes out to the ring with her matching cow print chaps over her black booty shorts and cowboy boots with a lasso curled around her wrist. My entrance attire consisted of an old Degeneration X tshirt which I used to ambush Wendy as she got up on the ring apron, waving to the crowd of fans who come to watch our matches; I had the shirt already in my hands and ran up behind Wendy, choking her with my shirt.

It only took her a moment to throw an elbow back, clocking me in the side of my head; making me see stars. The crowd booed of course--I never said I was a babyface jobber--as I staggered back, holding my head while Wendy stepped over the top ropes and grabbed me from behind with a handful of hair. She whipped me into the ropes, I had been surprised actually and by the time I turned so my back bounced off she was already in front of me so I was running face-first into that big boot of hers. It felt like I was already down for the count as Wendy didn't even waste time removing her chaps before hauling me up by my hair again. I didn't even have time to register where I was as she reached between my legs, giving my balls a painful squeeze through the black swim trunks I wrestle in (with "DX" painted on the side in white out), to scoop me up and body slam me in the center of the ring.

I was laid out flat, spread eagle; too sore from the impact onto the rock-hard wood; we used this old deck, it was like someone's back porch from one of the trailers in our neighborhood, as a mat with just a plastic tarp from a construction site to act as a canvas cover. It really had no give and was like landing on concrete; I mean you'd be lucky if you didn't step on a loose nail sticking out since you couldn't see it from the bright blue plastic sheet over it. She paused now to sexily remove her chaps, being sure to carefully place them over her corner; we had buried steel pipe into the back to act as ringposts, used sandbags as turnbuckles, and steel cables loosened so they'd have some slack to bounce off of as ring ropes. The whole thing was more like some makeshift torture chamber than a wrestling ring but that sadistic quality is what garnered us an audience in the first place.

I had rolled over onto all fours, to try and stand or something, when Wendy came over and punted the tip of her boot into my ribs. I inadvertently rolled out of the ring from the force of the impact; it felt like she had stabbed me in the side with her boot. The ring itself was only a couple feet off the ground so I was still on my feet when Wendy reached through the ropes and pulled me up onto the edge of the mat by my hair. It felt like my scalp was being ripped out as she bent my head backwards over the top rope, keeping me off balance since I was kind of a shrimp at 5'9", to slam forearms into my face before she lifted her right leg up high--still while holding my hair in her left hand--and did a sort of axe kick to my head which flipped me back into the ring.

Of course the crowd was cheering my destruction, before the match I had touted that women didn't belong in wrestling and that if any one of them could beat me I would have to change the name of my belt to the Intergender title and dress like a girl whenever I had to wrestle. So naturally I was eating my words as Wendy decimated me while the fans chanted: Fuck! Him! Up! Fuck! Him! Up!

I was already sort of upside down on the mat; I landed on the back of my neck with my legs kind of flumped over my face so I was sort of ass-up in the air. Wendy had no problem yanking off my swim trunks, pausing to give my ass a spanking--it wasn't playful too, it really stung--while holding me in place by tucking one of my legs under her arm, then finished the performance by grabbing onto my testicles with both hands and actually lifted me about a foot off the mat before slamming me back down. She later said she called that one the Scrotal-slam; I would've congratulated her on such a catchy name if I hadn't been unable to speak from the pain.

This was not the end of my misery though as I was curled in the fetal position on the mat, Wendy gave me a swift kick in the ribs with her boot. I flopped over onto my back, groaning in pain, before she reached down and dragged me across the mat by my pubes while I screamed like a little girl. I'm not sure what move she was attempting but Wendy positioned me upside down in the corner but due to my flailing at wanting to protect my family jewels I accidentally caught her in the temple with a wild kick. This seemed to daze her as she wobbled away, holding her forehead. After falling back to the mat I grabbed the title belt I had left in my corner--which was where she had brought me--, grabbing and holding it like a cudgel I waited for my opponent to turn around then I beaned her across the face with the metal belt.

The crowd began booing me again as I stood over her, the belt raised in the air like I had already won the match while panting; naked and sweaty. I stupidly dropped the belt in the center, hoping to maybe piledrive her on it, when Wendy low blowed me while I had been picking her up off the mat by her long dark hair. I was bent over when she put one hand around my throat and the other around my nuts, lifted me up like a chokeslam but brought me down, balls-first, on her knee in an inverted atomic drop. I fell to the mat sobbing as whe went and got the lasso she brought to the ring but had dropped on the floor after I had attacked her before the bell. I was down for the count, blubbering and feeling like I would be unable to walk again as I was summarily hogtied with an extra loop around my gonads.

She had put me in a sort of death trap with my ankles bound together but strung the lasso under and around the top rope before securing it around my balls. My hands were likewise tied behind my back leading to my feet so if I tried to lower my legs, or pull my hands free, the rope around my ballsack would pull taut so it felt like my family jewels were being ripped off. I was trying not to scream but my legs were getting tired as I had to hold them straight up in the air or the rope would tighten around my scrotum and pull them with the force of my own weight.

Wendy squatted down on my chest to get me in a sort of schoolgirl pin as her hand casually jerked me off.

"Mmm, does that feel good," she purred as her hand caressed my dick. I was enjoying it but the will to maintain my legs was taking all of my concentration and everytime she would slowly stroke me up to the head I would gasp a little then lose control of my legs; lowering them and ripping at my nuts. I'm not certain if she was just trying to tease me or break my will as this went on for about fifteen minutes. It was possible she was enjoying my predicament as I would alternate between my sighs of pleasure and shrieks of pain but if I tried to move at all I would feel the sharp tug on my bits while Wendy was grinding her crotch against my jaw.

It wasn't a facesit per se but her hand started beating me off faster as she neared her own orgasm. The thin material of her booty shorts was soon pressed into my mouth as she let go of my cock to grab my head with both hands as she used me to get herself off. The worst part was that, because she made herself cum, she technically won the match; leaving me still on the edge while bound, with my title belt under her arm as she left the ring.

Thankfully some of the other wrestlers help untie me, I had to suffer a couple of hard yanks to my nuts in the process as they tried to unwrap me, but by the end I was limping in the back with the thought I had just lost about a thousand bucks from buying that belt on top of the bet that I had to probably dress like a schoolgirl or something next time I came to the ring.

I had to hobble into the showers but was thankfully greeted by Trish; one of the ring rats that hung around backstage. She's eighteen and loves watching wrestling, for some reason a lot of these type of girls have a thing for jobbers so I didn't refuse her when she pushed me against the wall of the showers and dropped to her knees before taking me into her mouth. I was still hard from the whole match and just sighed as her lips worked their magic while I guided her head up and down by grabbing her light brown hair. The girl had a lot of piercings and that french tickler tongue ring was really working overtime as it swirled over the head like a wriggling snake. She used me like a lollipop before I finally erupted down her throat while she greedily swallowed. After she was done cleaning me off, Trish said she couldn't wait to see me in a dress next week and hoped I lost as good then.

I guess jobbers just get some girls wet, at least there was a bright side to being a loser.
[following pics inspired the story but mostly basing it off of character from rumble roses]
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File Type: jpg 2aca3cd34ecb3f398cfc9557bb320299.jpg (13.0 KB, 156 views)
File Type: jpg 5278521078_de4dfcbebd.jpg (86.4 KB, 115 views)
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