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"Something I think she'll be good at," she said, smiling brightly. "She said she liked guns, right?"

He nodded slowly, clearly unsure of where she was going. "That's right."

"So I posted a few pictures of her, along with her contact information, to a site that's looking for a woman to go shooting."

"Shooting?"

Her smile turned even nastier. "I think that's what it said. Something about a woman going shooting with ten guys, and something about bangs. Guns go bang, right?" She paused, quirking her lips as she pressed her first finger to the side of her face, clearly thinking. "Wait, maybe it was asking for a woman to be involved in a gangbang porn shoot with ten guys." She began nodding. "Yeah, I think maybe that was it. Oops! My bad. Oh well. In any case, she'd probably be better at that anyway." Her smile became uglier still. "I think it's clear to everyone that she doesn't have what it takes to beat me!" Candy beamed and nodded at the crowd, encouraging them of as they cheered.

"I know you two don't like each other, but you shouldn't have done that."

Her face became hard as she turned her attention back to Steve. "She started it when she posted pictures and videos of me showering on the internet. If she doesn't like it, she knows where to find me."

While Steve allowed Candy to run her mouth, I wiped my face on a towel and took a drink from a bottle of water. It was still hotter than hell in the warehouse, which made for a good show, but it was damned uncomfortable for those of us that couldn't wait in our coach until our performance and then grab a shower right afterwards. I took another pull off my water bottle as Steve began wrapping up his interview. Beginning with the next match, I wasn't going to get another break until the end of the show.

As Candy flounced out of the ring, Steve caught site of a massive man standing at the back of the crowd. "Anaconda? You're back?" he asked as Antony entered the arena followed by his manager. As he came down the aisle between the chairs, Antony repeatedly raised his hands to encourage the crowd. He crawled into the ring. "Antony, Anaconda, Johnson, everyone," Steve said, introducing the performer.

Antony flexed, making his arms pop and pointing to the bulging muscles as he nodded his head vigorously while stomping around the ring. He was the shortest of my wrestlers, but what he lacked in height he made up for in bulk. His arms, what he called his Anacondas, were massive. I kept my camera trained on him as Greg closed in on his manager. Dena was dressed in a black power suit that strained to close across her ample breasts, framing a low-cut top white top that popped against her beautiful dark skin, and a short skirt that left plenty more tempting flesh on display. She would figure prominently later in the show and we wanted to foreshadow her.

"It's good to have you back in the ring, Anaconda. I thought you were still taking some 'R' and 'R,'" Steve said, tipping the mic to Antony.

"It's great to be back!" Antony roared, flinging his hands into the air again as he flexed and posed for the cheering crowd. He turned back to Steve and pulled the mic from his hand. "I finally found out what was wrong with me."

"There was something wrong with you?" Steve asked in surprise. "I thought you were just taking some time... after you and Shelby..."

Antony glared at the other man. "For the last six months, did you think I was wrestling to my potential? Did you think I was losing because I was washed up? Is that what you thought?"

"Well, no, but you've been on top for a long time, and..."

"And you thought I'd lost my edge?" Antony growled.

"No... I wouldn't say that..."

Antony walked away from Steve, the mic still in his hand, and began addressing the crowd. "I couldn't figure what was happening to me. I felt weak and without any fire, I was slowing down, and I didn't have the stamina I once had. No matter how hard I worked, I just kept getting weaker, and slower, like I was trying to run in quicksand. Then I lost my woman, and everything only got worse. Finally, I took a couple of weeks off to get right, to look inside myself for answers. And I've found them!" He paused as he glared at the crowd. "I've been being slowly poisoned by Amygdalin." He turned and glared at Steve as he approached the smaller man. "Do you know what Amygdalin is? What it does?" Steve shook his head. "It's related to cyanide, and it slowly drains you of vitality and makes you weak."

Steve took the mic. "Where could someone get such a thing? And why?"

"The where is easy," Antony rumbled. "You can buy it in any grocery store. Amygdalin comes from apple seeds."

"You were poisoning yourself by eating apple seeds?" Steve asked as his eyes opened wide.

"No," Antony sneered. "It wasn't me."

"What, then? Why?"

"Hey, Anaconda! Good to see you're—" another wrestler called as he entered the crowd.

"There's your answer right there!" Antony roared as he pointed to the back of the crowd where Mike and Shelby were entering the arena. "He took what was mine!"

"Shelby?" Steve asked, making sure the crowd could follow what was going on as the second wrestler and his manager approached the ring.

Antony nodded. "I loved her, but now..."

Mike crawled into the ring. "I didn't take her, man! I wouldn't do that to you! We're friends!"

"Were," Antony rumbled. "I can't believe I trusted you. I asked you to look after her and you stabbed me in the back!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I know," Antony rumbled, his normally open and friendly face darkening into something much more dangerous. "I know it all."

Mike paused, his face telegraphing alarm before fading into confusion. "I still don't know what you're talking about," he said, but his tone said something different.

"You wanted Shelby for yourself, so you began poisoning me. When I couldn't get it up anymore, she left me, left me to fall right into your arms," Antony said, stepping closer to Mike. Mike was a full inch taller than Antony, and while he wasn't quite as heavily muscled, he was still huge.

Mike's eyes narrowed. "That wasn't my doing. She came to me when you couldn't satisfy her... needs... anymore." Mike smiled, but there was no humor in it. "And you did ask me to take care of her."

Antony's eyes narrowed to match Mike's as he took another step closer. "That was when I didn't know what was wrong with me, when I didn't know if I was going to live or die, and when I thought you were my friend. But you knew what you were doing to me all along, didn't you?"

Mike stepped closer. The men were almost nose to nose. "I didn't do shit, and I don't know what you're talking about!"

Without looking away from Mike, Antony jerk his arm up, his fingers hooked, posing as if he were an ancient god calling down lightning. Dena squatted, reached under the ring skirt, and pulled out a large container before holding it aloft so the crowd could see. Around the outside of the small bucket we'd plastered a generic label with Big & Hard Protein Powder written on it in giant red letters, along with some simple graphics. We didn't want to get our asses sued off by implying somebody's protein drink was tainted.

"That's the protein powder you gave me, isn't it?" Antony rumbled as his arm slowly descended. "Didn't you say it was the best protein supplement you'd ever tried? You gave me a case of it, remember? Remember how I thanked you for it because I thought you were my friend?" Antony paused, his eyes narrow and hard. "Dena tried to tell me to watch my back, that she didn't trust Shelby... that she didn't trust you... but I wouldn't listen. I defended you! I knew you wanted the belt, but I thought you were an upstanding guy and would try to win the belt in an honest fight. When she told me she took a sample of the protein powder and had it tested, I told her she was crazy. I couldn't, wouldn't, believe you'd stab me in the back. Not until today, not until we received the results of the test. Want to guess what's in the powder?"

"Protein?" Mike sneered, his strong, handsome face twisting into an ugly mask of disdain.

"For almost a year you let me drink that shit, let me think I was losing my edge. But it was you. It was you all along."

"Sorry man, it wasn't me. If there's something wrong with the powder, you need to take it up with the company that made it."

Antony looked past Mike to Shelby. "Come back to me."

Shelby sneered. "I waited six months for you, but you wouldn't do anything about your problem except make promises. I'm a woman, and I have needs," she purred as she ran her hands over her body, but then shook her head. "No. I'm done waiting for you to get it up and keep it up. You're washed up. It's over." She paused, staring at Antony, her eyes cold and hard. "We're over," she added with a slash of her hand.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? He was poisoning me!"

Mike turned to Shelby with a sneer. "Do you hear that? He's blaming me for not being able to get his cock up." He glared back at Antony. "Be a man and don't blame others for your weakness."

"My only weakness is I trusted you," Antony growled, his voice low and dangerous.

"Why can't you own up to the fact you've lost your fire and admit you're not the man you were?" Shelby sneered from outside the ring.

"I didn't loose it! He tried to take it from me! He did it to steal you from me!"

"I didn't steal her!" Mike sneered. "She came back to me because you're no longer a man."

"Because you were poisoning me!"

Shelby's jerked her head in disdain. "I left you because you became a fucking loser with a limp cock, and a limp cock is useless to me." She paused a moment before a slow smile caressed her lips, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. "But, for old time's sake, prove to me you're man enough to not only fuck me, but to satisfy me again, and I'll consider it."

"No!" Dena screamed from the side of the ring. "It's a trick! It's only been two weeks!"

"You're on!" Antony snarled, his eyes hard as he glared at Mike.

"No!" Dena screamed again, slapping the ring floor. "You're not ready!" Dena crawled into the ring and grabbed the mic from Steve. "Antony! She's not worth it! You need more time to recover! It's only been two weeks since you stopped using the poisoned powder! Don't let her bait you into a fight you're not ready for!"

"I have to."

"Shelby was mine before you showed up, before you stole her from me! You think you can take her from me again?" Mike snarled. "Then come on! I fucked you up before, and I'll fuck you up again!"

"Get out of the ring," Antony ordered, glancing at Dena.

"No! You can't—"

"I said get out of the ring!" Antony roared, cutting her off.

Dena glared at Shelby. "I'll deal with you later!" she snarled before shoving the mic back into Steve's hand.

Antony and Mike backed to their corners. I stayed on Antony as Dena begged him to reconsider.

As Dena begged Antony, Greg captured Shelby crawling into the ring. Like Dena, she was dressed to impress, her light grey business suit with plunging bright red top and short skirt barely able to contain her lush, womanly, assets. She crawled all over Mike, grinding into him as they kissed lustily. She had to be careful with her grinding. Like all the costumes, Dena and Shelby's suits were designed to fail with little effort, and it'd been tricky to getting the suits to fit so snugly, and yet not spontaneously rip open.

"I'm the prize," Shelby cooed into Mike's ear, her lips close enough to the hidden mic that it could pick up her whispered words. "Winner, the best man with the best cock, take all... forever."

"I'm going to whip his ass."

Shelby purred. "Do it for me... and if you do, then you can whip mine later," she purred before sliding out of the ring.

As the two managers crawled out of the ring, Steve bought the mic to his lips. He pointed to Mike. "In this corner, wearing orange trunks and weighing in at six foot one and one-half inches, 244 pounds, Mike, The Driller, Diller!"

Mike turned to the crowd, cheering them on as they booed him. The villain had become clear.

Steve waited a moment before he turned his attention to Antony. "And in this corner, wearing silver trunks, weighing in at an even six foot, 247 pounds, Antony, Anaconda, Johnson!" he cried, reminding everyone of Antony's nickname. Antony again flexed and posed, pointing at his bulging arm to remind the audience of what we wanted them to think. We were setting up the crowd to think Anaconda was reference to Antony's arms, but they were going to find out Anaconda Johnson was called Anaconda for a reason less to do with his powerful arms and more to do with his johnson.

If you put a bunch of well-hung guys together, doing what we do, there was going to be some measuring. Mike was the smallest, though he was by no means small, at 8¾ inches. Justin and Dirk were next, at around 9¼ inches of man meat. Colt and I were neck and neck at just under 9½ inches, but Antony put us all to shame at a fraction over 10½ inches.

Besides paring Mike and Antony up to emphasis the huge size of Antony's cock, I also paired them up because they were both fucking huge, especially considering they didn't use steroids. In our line of work, we couldn't risk the potential erectile disfunction that sometimes came with the use of the drug. They were easily the most heavily muscled guys of our show, and while the two men weren't quite at the level of professional body builders at the peak of their sport, they were damned close. We often jokingly called Antony 'Fork' and Mike 'Lift' because of their massive strength. Despite their persona's in the ring, they were good friends and pushed each other hard in all manner of friendly competition.

Unlike Candy and Harlow, who used speed and agility in their match, because of their size, Mike's and Antony's match focused more on bruising punishment and tests of strength, allowing them plenty of opportunity to flex and stretch to show off their hard work.

As David entered the ring, Steve exited and once again settled at his table and made ready to do the play by play. David called the two men to the center of the ring, quietly made sure they were ready, and then backed away, pointing at Steve as the men returned to their corners.

After a moment, Steve rang the bell and the match began. From his corner Anaconda slowly came forward while holding his hands aloft, fingers splayed, clearly challenging Driller to a contest of strength.

"Come on you prick," Antony bellowed. "Try to prove you're the better man! Even after what you did, I'm going to kick your ass!"

Driller sneered, raising his hands to match Anaconda, but then hesitated, lowering and shaking his hands to loosen them up in preparation before raising them again. When the brawlers' hands were less than six inches apart, Driller lunged and grabbed Anaconda's hands. The men bellowed in pain, effort, or both, as their hands clamped down, their arms quaking with effort as they strained against each other. Their arms held high over their heads, the two men gradually drew closer together as Anaconda began to slowly overpower the taller man, their immense chests and arms bunching and twisting in effort. The crowd roared in approval as the massive men strained, their bodies stretched out so that every sinew stood in stark relief. Though they weren't hurting each other, because it didn't matter which of them won this battle, this was the only point in the match where the two men truly pitted themselves against each other in an unrestrained, if good natured, contest.

Driller began to bend over backwards as Anaconda slowly overpowered him. Bellowing in rage, Driller took a quick step back while jerking his hands down. Their huge forearms crashed against their thickly corded legs as their bodies slammed together. With a bellow, both men leaned back as if in great pain, fingers locked, roaring in effort as they continued to try to overpower the other, their giant cocks grinding together in an unnoticed battle of their own.

The first two matches were straight up wrestling. The only difference between my show and any other wrestling show was HWE had cocks and titties flopping around out in the open during the matches for everyone to see. Starting with this match, the bouts changed. Not only were there going to be cocks and tits on display, but the bouts were going to become ever more sexual.

With a bellow, Driller made a quick spinning move while disengaging, kicking Anaconda's foot out as he did so. Off balance from the kick, Anaconda fell to one knee. Taking advantage of the element of surprise, and with Anaconda slowed, Driller spun around behind Antony and pulled Anaconda's arms up and rearward while dragging Antony's back into his chest. With Anaconda's arms raised above his head, Driller locked his hands behind Antony's neck. Like in the previous bout, when Candy used this move to show off Harlow's incredible body, this move was in the routine for one reason, to stretch Antony out so he could show off the amazing cut of his physique and the massive cock tucked into his bright silver trunks.

Anaconda's dark skin glowing with sweat, he roared, his face twisting in agonizing effort as he tried to power out of Driller's hold. Mike bellowed in return, jerking on Antony's arms as if struggling to hold the powerful man, their huge muscles twisting and bulging, their faces selling the effort they seemed to be putting forth in their continued contest of strength. With inexorable force, Anaconda's massive arms started slowly coming down as the two men roared and bellowed in titanic effort.

Finally, Driller lost his grip and Anaconda's arms snapped down. Antony spun to face his opponent and drove a powerful fist into Driller's face, stamping his foot to increase the apparent force of the blow. Driller staggered back, his arms flailing until he sagged against the ropes. I couldn't help but smile. Anaconda was about to pull his party trick. Flexing and bellowing at Driller in rage, he snapped his arms up into the stereotypical muscle man pose and then slowly brought them down as if he were posing in a body building competition. As his arms came down, his cock went up.

As Driller stumbled back, one of his flailing hands had slapped Antony. What appeared to be Driller reacting to Antony's punch was actually Driller further weakening Anaconda's trunks. Antony reset to flex and bellow again as his cock finished ripping his trunks from his body. The crowd went nuts as Antony grabbed the trunks dangling from his enormous cock and threw them out of the ring.

The gag only worked with perfect timing. Antony's trunks were held together with Velcro and stick'em. Mike's flailing slap had ripped open the Velcro strips as Antony pressed his arm against his leg to pin the trunks to his skin with the strip of sticky. The stick'em was barely strong enough to work, and when he squatted with his flex, the sticky failed, and it appeared his massive cock had ripped his trunks away. Beverly had worked for weeks to get the gag right, but once she did, the crowd loved result.

As Greg was covering Anaconda ripping his trunks off with the power of his cock, I stayed on Driller. Shelby ran up behind him, reached between the ropes, and ripped his orange trunks off, revealing his own huge, if not quite as massive, cock.

"If you want me, get in there and whip his ass. Prove you're not a fucking loser and that your cock is as good as his!" she snarled before shoving him away from the ropes.

Driller, only partially recovered from being punched in the face, wasn't ready for Antony's attack. Anaconda crashed into his opponent and wrapped him up in a crushing Anaconda Squeeze. Greg and I were on opposite side of the ring to capture all the action.