Both Russell and I were panting excitedly following the false pin attempt as I roughly pulled him off the floor and stood him back up “to dish out more punishment”. My near light-headed exhilaration was a bi-product of racing thoughts in my head which were a mix of fascination and physical joy. I couldn’t believe that this wonderfully cute man that I had met only a few months before was at that moment, allowing me to fulfill my fantasy of manhandling his petite, smooth body in a squash match scenario while seemingly into playing his role of over-matched, baby faced jobber! My mind (and by extension, penis) harkened back to what I felt as a teenager when I saw my first lover naked and was allowed for the very first time, to sensually touch another human body – both were unprecedented and blissful.
He stood in front of me ready to accept his fate (such a good little jobber) and my heel-like momentum immediately kicked in. Without hesitation, I easily scooped up his feather weight body high into a body slam cradle and drove him onto the bed. In rapid succession, I dropped two elbows across his chest, pulled him back up for another body slam, then with no time for him to process what was happening, I yanked him back up, slapped his face and executed a belly-to-belly suplex onto the bed. Upon landing, I spun my body while on top of him, hooked both his legs while planting my ass on his face and started a 3 count by smacking his tight, folded butt cheeks on each count, “One, two, thr…..oh come on! This is so humiliating for this youngster. Why doesn’t he end this?” I then looked down at his butt-crushed face and with a smirk said, “Not ending it yet rookie. You have to pay your dues, you know.”
I pulled him back to a standing position in humiliating fashion by grabbing two handfuls of his handsome face. At this point, I could tell he was turned-on as he let out soft gasps and moans while I roughly took control and put him through the paces.
(This was his first time being dominated and his expectations of what would be happening to him were only informed by what I had briefly described prior and from what he had seen on TV squash matches.)
I quickly forced his head between my legs and with him bent at the waist, we maneuvered in front of the full-length mirror. Looking at his vulnerable rear-end, I couldn’t resist yanking on the seat of his skimpy whities to wedgie his cute butt before pulling him up into a pile driver position. While he was inverted, I instructed him to support his weight by pushing on my thighs as I positioned his head above the height of my knees. I then dropped down with his head well away from the floor but with the definite optics of a devastating pile driver. His body fell frontward to the floor in a heap. Wasting no time, I grabbed and yanked the side of his whities to roughly roll his limp body onto his back. At that point, I yanked his head off the ground by the back of his hair, sitting him up and then while cradling him from behind, I vigorously slapped on a realistic sleeper hold. “This should do it. The young athlete is now trapped and due to a blockage of is carotid artery, he’ll be out soon”. From there, I thrashed him back and forth as he intuitively knew how to sell the move/situation. His struggling arms eventually went limp and after the requisite 3 arm checks with dead drops on each, I rang the bell. 😊
Of course, he needed to be woken up and that was handled by the my victorious heel character with a couple of demeaning slaps to his face and then sitting him up straight. I massaged his traps and the nape of his neck “to get the blood flowing” and then to his surprise, I delivered a loud, double-handed swat to his upper back. As he feigned recovery from unconsciousness while slumped against me, I stayed in character and grabbed his face while taunting him, “So you thought you would ‘try’ wrestling, huh boy? Well, that’s just a small sampling of what happens to pretty-boys and their cute little muscle-bods when getting in the ring with real men. You understand me boy?!” I forced his head to nod yes. “Good. Now, as my reward you are going into the bathroom and you will prepare the shower for me and after that, you WILL give me the massage that I deserve for working your sorry ass over just now.” Without any prompting, he meekly whimpered, “Yes sir…”
I pulled him to his feet by his head and arm and stood in front of him for a few moments, looking down at him in intimidating fashion. I then, unchallenged, pulled his skimpy underwear off, stuffed them into his mouth, gave him a hard smack on his cute little butt and commanded him to get going and leave the underwear gag in until I told him he could remove it. He immediately scurried away into the bathroom. After I heard the shower going, I walked into the bathroom where I found him dutifully standing next to the shower, head held low and holding a towel over his arm. I instructed him to place the towel on the counter and to take off my skimpy gear. He immediately obeyed. Both of us were hard. Our cocks brushed each other as I approached him and removed his underwear from his mouth, then gently hugged him and led him into the shower. He cleaned me head to toe as I did him, our soapy bodies gliding against each other, while making sure all body parts were tended to. Still in character but gentler now, I had him leave the shower to prepare the massage table back in the wrestling room for our “scheduled appointment” where a great massage, mutual touching and phenomenal happy ending capped an incredible evening.
The bottom line through all of this was that he trusted me to be in control (in the physical and behavioral sense) since we had known each other by this time and that I emphasized prior, that this would be a safe and sane exploration of fantasy. He knew that I would play the part of “bad guy” as realistic as possible in character and physicality and that taking advantage of our size and strength difference was key. In our post-match discussion during the massage, he shared that he was in ecstasy from his amazing experience and wasn’t at any time afraid because we had taken the time to talk about safety. All this understanding, like with the pros, allowed us to perform uninhibitedly which optimized the fantasy aspect and allowed me to push the envelope at times to test our limits. He said that he “couldn’t wait to do it again”, only he hoped that the next time would be longer and looked forward to seeing how creative I could be. I gleefully thought to myself while lying there, “Excuse me God, you’re kidding me here, right?” 😊
There were many such encounters in the years to come. Sometimes we treated ourselves to elongated hotel matches where we had more room and time to explore and play. It was an incredible relationship that had to end when I moved on to another city to take a job (damn economic collapse of 2009). Russell and I met a few times since when one of us would travel but nothing will ever match that long, ongoing streak of “Domination-Shower-Massage Encounters”.
With the exception of the name and the actual sequence of the moves and dialogue in the 1st encounter, all elements of this post are 100% percent true folks. :)
...would love to try that soon." Well, whatever excited stimulation I was already feeling lying face-down, nude on theat massage table was now off the charts.
*This is Part 1 of my encounter with my first MM heel/jobber partner..My Masseur!*
At the time, I had been seeing - let's just call him "Russell" - for about 3 or 4 sessions. He was a massage therapist that I found in the now defunct Yahoo Personals about 2 months earlier. He was (is) incredibly cute with a beautifully smooth, lean, tan, toned body - the sight of which, would cause me to spring an instant erection the moment he stripped down to his skimpy undies or jock strap at the start of our sensual massage sessions.
A hetero-sexual man, I was in my late 30s and was starting to explore different aspects of my sexuality and fetishes with a little more daring and pro-action. I had moved to another city for a job. I was new in town with no entanglements and had a lot of time to selectively make new friends and to do some self-examination while at the same time, the internet was in full swing with enormous access to view and/or participate in whatever your "thing" was.
As my profile shows, my thing is wrestling domination - particularly, one large man/woman over an outmatched opponent. I've mentioned in other blog posts that the Fvf, one-sided scenario was my entry into this "genre" but I soon realized that larger, stronger men dominating smaller, baby-face jobbers that used to be featured weekly in 80's and 90's WWF, NWA and AWA telecasts was just as much an exhilarating turn-on that somehow managed to sneak into the mainstream as 'family entertainment'. I'm sure these "squash" or "tune-up" matches that were then prevalent had a wide spectrum of allure for many different viewers...including those who harbored an S&M fetish or one of its variants (boy, did those promoters know what they were doing).
Russell was a true baby-face and at 5' 3", 135 lbs, I had fantasized from the first day I met him about what it would be like to take this cutie apart in a pro-wrestling heel/jobber squash match. You see, he was the first man I ever had sensual contact with courtesy of my first MM erotic massage encounter. Our first appointment was pure ecstasy that started as soon as I stripped naked in his candle lit room with the ambient music pulsing and then surrendered myself to letting let him do his thing. While on my stomach, he gave a wonderfully therapeutic massage while "brushing against" areas that got me excited. On the flip, he continued to deliver one of the best massages I ever had and then moved in for the happy ending. Immediately taken by the experience, I asked if I could touch him as well and without hesitating, he stripped off his bikini briefs and said "go for it." I had arrived in a new world.
Fast forward to the night he uttered the golden words in the title of this blog post - which was immediately after I had shared with him how I had always been turned on by one-sided wrestling domination and how as a teenager and into my 20s, I had explored this fetish with my first and long time gf who was 4' 10", 95lbs. I detailed how we would often role play with her as a trapped, helpless jobber in a MvF underground wrestling scenario with me being the heartless heel that would dominate her with power moves, overhead lifts, cruel, prolonged submission holds and humiliation with both of us clad in our underwear and eventually nude - the best part being that she was totally on-board and loved playing her role as much as I liked playing mine. It made for wonderful, safe-sane consensual foreplay too...yes, I was spoiled out of the gate.
When Russell said he wanted to try it, I couldn't wait. At our next massage appointment I came with a plan. He told me to lead the way. I said we would wrestle for about 30 minutes, then shower and then he would give me the one hour massage I was accustomed to. He agreed and my God, he was a natural born jobber who understood about selling the pain and allowed me to basically, do whatever I wanted to him.
We stripped to our skimpy undies (I asked him to wear white). He looked yummy as we "locked up" and I immediately delivered a knee to his gut and roughly spun him around into a full nelson. I was hard and got even harder as I was pressed up against his firm little bubble butt with him squirming vainly to escape. He felt my erection and pressed back onto it as he struggled. Then came a dragon sleeper where I posed his arched body in front of a wall mirror and marveled at how sexy his lean, stretched-out ab and pec muscles looked in comparison to my larger biceps and shoulders (I had about 7 inches and 60 lbs on him). It was everything I had fantasized about in a Big Vs Small squash. Next, I dropped him into an over the knee back breaker and held him in front of the mirror for a good while as I viewed our performance and really pushed him to his limit of pain he was willing to endure. From there, I picked him off my knee and hoisted him right up into a reverse fireman's carry and dropped him down shoulder first onto my knee for a real looking but controlled shoulder breaker which he sold to perfection. He was now supine on the floor and I went in for my first 2 count pin 1...2...."Oh come on! He pulled him up by the hair! That's not right, he has this young man beat. Come on ref get in there and stop this now!" - I provided that and other narration to his beat down and by the way, he found that incredibly hot.
You see where this is going....more later in part 2 of this post - the conclusion. Thanks for reading!
....what I one day would know to be “heel vs jobber squash domination ”, through a combination of experiences as a child.
One definite influence that shaped this (what is it? A “fetish” or “kink”? ) was coming across scenes of one woman or girl, bullying or dominating another in fights that were portrayed in film or magazines. I was born in the mid 60s and when I was 7 or 8, I saw the film “One Million Years BC” which, as many middle aged catfight enthusiasts know, has perhaps the seminal moment of FvF sexy combat history: The famous cave girl fight where the Uber sex goddess, Rachel Welch’s blond character, wins a grunting catfight over her beaten brunette opponent by straddling her with a schoolgirl pin and placing some kind of large animal horn across her neck. It didn’t hurt that the two beauties were clad in fur pelt bikinis and the fight that ended in a dominating pose finish, was HOT! Though at the time I didn’t know it was hot (at least in the way I would some day understand what “hot” meant) but regardless, my young brain was somehow transfixed by this type of scene long before I knew what sexual urges were.
So, around the same time in the early to mid 70s, me and my brothers and friends were all hooked on Saturday morning wrestling programs. This was when it was more about good guys versus bad guys and weekly “jobber squash matches“ had yet to become a part of the pro wrestling mosaic of storytelling. Naturally, purchasing wrestling magazines was part of being a fan. Then one day, “lo and behold what is that?“ In the corner picture on the cover of one of the mags there was a scene of two skimpy-bikini-clad women in a very sexy wrestling pose. Of course I’m taking about “Apartment House Wrestling”.
Turns out there was a whole Kayfabe fictional underground wrestling circuit that was really just models posing in photo sets that depicted bikini wrestling matches - inside, you guessed it, an apartment - with cheesy storyline copy accompanying them. These photos were purposely suggestive and had captions that were often very provocative. Sometimes matches wound up topless with black rectangles superimposed on the photos, redacting the “good stuff”.
Now you can see where this is going ...whatever that feeling was that I experienced witnessing the blond dominating the brunette in 1Million years BC, was now well on its way to being nurtured and was developing as the bikini wrestling spreads in the magazines started to tilt the story lines toward one sided, cruel beat downs of one hot girl over the other. These were the only storylines that held my interest.
This secret fetish didn’t have much material to feed on though. I would have to wait a month or two for the next edition of the “sports review wrestling” magazine to come out which always featured an AHW match. Then eventually there were magazines special editions completely dedicated to this sexy “sport”. Still though, having to purchase and then hide these treasures was difficult. So, I had to mainly hold these fantasies in my mind and shape them there.
I also started to look forward to the ladies matches that were occasionally featured on Sat wrestling shows. However, by this time I had started to know that I only wanted to see heel versus jobber matches where the pretty, innocent girl was “woman-handled” by the sadistic veteran bad girl. These were hard to come by in those days.
Then, the squash job era had arrived in pro wrestling. And I noticed that an all male, manhandling, humiliating squash match between a large heel over a smaller no name, rookie jobber was as, if not more of, a turn on to me. I think the main reason for that was because the men were so much stronger and could do more devastating power moves then the woman were able to. Plus their aggression made for more verbal cruelty.,By this time, I was around 11 or 12 and my lifelong fixation on this “scene“ was just beginning. There will be more stories detailing my evolution in this area as I got into my teens and 20s and even my adult years.
These will be reserved for future blog entries that I know you will enjoy. Thank you for reading!
Next Post: “My Hot Massuer Becomes My Hot Jobber”