Real Estate Entanglements Pt. 03

I started to sweat and it rolled down my neck and chest and he said "are you sweating from the action ... or fear?"

"I'm sweating because ... OW!!" he cut off what I was saying with a firm tightening of his arms.

"Submit, baby ... or I'll squeeze you so hard you won't take a deep breath for a week!"

I looked at him and shook my head -- trying to pry my way out of his arms with my hands but it was to no avail. He smiled at me and shook his head "no way you're escaping ... nobody escapes my bearhug ... that's why I saved it until last!" I should point out that on "escaping" and "bearhug" and "last" he tensed his arms until his muscles were literally bulging and squeezed me tight against him. Our chests were pressed together and my cock was rubbing against the silk-like fabric of his small garment. To say it was exciting was a lie ... it was driving me out of my fucking mind. My hands were clamped on his shoulders and all I could do was stand there as he continued to squeeze me.

After an amazing amount of time he decided to show me exactly what I was dealing with as far as his strength and with a roar he tightened the bearhug and lifted me up off the floor. My feet dangled and I screamed louder than I had during any of our matches. I held one hand up to the wall, pressing against it, hoping to somehow push me back down on the mat or at least relieve some of the pressure he was applying.

He looked up at me and with no humor in his tone and a steel-eyed look in his eyes he said "submit ... now!"

I wanted to. Oh, my God ... I wanted to just submit to him at that moment. The match, my body, anything he wanted ... he could have thrown me on the floor and done anything to me I was so aroused at that moment. I was sweating and panting and wearing a loincloth that was turned so that my cock and ass were exposed and I just wanted to grab my cock and stroke myself until I unloaded the tension that was desperate to be released ... and as these thoughts were swimming through my mind I felt my head begin to nod and I started nodding faster and Randy gave me a quick jerk of his arms before he released me and let me drop to the mat.

And drop to the mat I did. I landed on my feet and fell backwards, holding my back and moaning the whole time. Randy came over and stood on top of me, staring down at me and waiting until I opened my eyes to stare up at him before he said "that's one point for me, chump! Two more and the match is mine!"

"I can do math, you fucker!" I spat back at him. He moved to the bathroom and came back with two bottles of water and handed me one. I sat up and drank it and we took a break before starting again. The next round would be him trying to get me to submit from an "erotic hold" - which I still wasn't a hundred percent certain I understood.

We started wrestling again and Randy decided to try and see just how "masochistic" either of us could really be. I took him by surprise and lunged at him, knocking him backwards. He fell onto his side and landed on his knee so as he sat up he held it as if it were hurting.

"Damn! Damn it!" he cried as he held his knee. I stood there and stared him, my heart (and cock) deflating at the thought I had injured him and we were not going to be able to finish our match tonight ... or possibly ever.

"What's wrong?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"My fucking knee ... an old football injury ... it gives out now and then if I push myself too hard."

"Oh" I said. I thought about what I had done earlier with his legs and felt guilty ... maybe that had something to do with this. I realized our match was over and stepped away from him and towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm going to get dressed," I said. "We're obviously not going to wrestle anymore."

"Did I say 'computer?'" he asked with a smirk.

"We're not wrestling if your knee has given out!" I admit that I was angry with him for wanting to continue -- but I admired his determination.

"Some champion you are" he said, shaking his head sadly. "Your opponent's knee gives out and you just let him off the hook?"

Now ... I have never been into inflicting real injury on someone but ... as he sat there holding his knee and suggesting that I work it over like some sadistic heel ... exploiting his injury to just add more pain that he could bear ... I have to admit that it was making me feel aroused. I thought about those matches I had watched where a foolish wrestler steps into the ring with a brace around their knee and their opponent spends the entire match destroying the injured knee ... bending it and twisting it until there is nothing left for the victim to do but weakly admit his submission and hope the heel has inflicted enough pain. I thought about this a second but said "no, we're not going to wrestle if your knee is ..."

"My knee is fine" he said, rolling his eyes. "If I really hurt my knee I would have said our safe word. I thought you might want to see what it was like to be one of those monsters who takes advantage of his opponents injury?"

I was actually going to think about this for a moment when he held his knee again and repeated "it gives out now and then when I push myself too hard."

I moved up to him and took his "injured" leg and stretched it out and said "well ... I don't think we've worked it quite hard enough, yet."

"Wait! What are you doing? NO!" he yelled as he leaned back and looked up at me, wide-eyed with terror. I answered by dropping my knee down into his leg and bending his lower leg up. He screamed and flopped around on the mat as I stood up, still holding onto his leg, and dropped down on it with my knee a second ... a third ... a fourth time ... each time Randy would arch his back or try to sit up. By the fourth time he was almost crying ... his breathing fast and hard and he was shaking his head and waving his hands, begging me to stop.

"My knee! My knee!" he begged as he tried to crawl backwards and out of my grip but I wasn't letting him go. I stretched his "wounded" knee out and planted my foot on his other ankle -- spreading his legs apart. The view was amazing -- him laying on the mat writhing in agony with a tiny piece of fabric barely covering his cock and balls. He threw his arms over his eyes as I kept his injured leg straight and dug my fingers into his knee cap.

"FUCK! FUCK, I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP!" He slapped his hands on the mat, flapping his arms as if he were trying to fly.

"I ain't finished with you just yet," I said as I held his ankle against my shoulder and kept his leg straight -- spreading his legs a little wider. "I want to make sure you don't have as much fight left in you for the next round!"

This went on for a few more minutes. Me punching or clawing at his knee and Randy giving the performance of a lifetime as he rolled on the floor screaming his submission and begging me to accept it and "leave his poor knee alone!" At one point his "sock" slid off his rock hard cock and was barely secured to his cockhead.

I rolled him onto his stomach and planted my own knee on the back of his and bent his leg backwards. He pounded his fists into the mat as I leaned back.

"MY FUCKING KNEE! YOU'RE GONNA BREAK IT!" He screamed into the basement as I wrapped my leg around the top of it and secured it. I sat on his ass and held his leg bent, feeling him buck beneath me trying to get away. I would playfully slap at the side of his knee which would make him shriek and as I held him in this he gradually became less animated -- succumbing to the agony he was pretending to be in. I stood up, stretched his leg out straight and dropped me knee into the back of his knee repeatedly. He was now just laying there -- his hands limply slapping the mat. I picked his leg up by the ankle and drove his knee into the mat and let him go and he rolled away, holding his knee and desperately trying to get away from me ... but I moved over to him. I wasn't about to let my prey escape without a formal submission. I straightened his wounded leg out and he tried to sit up and push me away but I merely brushed his hands aside and drove my fingers into his knee. That was the end of it.

"I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP!" He screamed and with each submission he arched his back, his now exposed cock flopping from side to side. He kept screaming his submission until I finally dropped his leg and he slid across the mat as far away from me as he could get -- a wounded animal -- holding his knee as he whimpered and cried in the corner.

And I was certain if not for the sake of the other points we had to earn and if I hadn't stopped when I did and let him move away from me I was quite possibly going to coat the inside of his loincloth with so much cum he would probably need to throw it away after tonight. Watching him "suffer" so beautifully with me twisting his leg mercilessly ... had it been real he would certainly need to use a cane for the rest of his life, but I knew he was going to be okay. I went to get our waters and handed him one which he sat up and drank as I sat down on the mat next to him and drank mine.

"I think we have a problem here" he finally said when we were both calmer and the "agony" of his knee had passed.

"What?" I asked.

"We're only one point into this and I want to cum so badly my balls are aching."

"Me too" I said laughing a bit.

"Well ... then let's get to our second point before we don't need the third point for either of us to explode!"

We stood up and went to opposite corners of the mat -- getting ready to lock up for the second point we needed -- and erotic submission hold. Randy squeezed his cock and balls back into his tiny garment and I adjusted the loincloth to make sure it was -- at least -- in the position it was supposed to be even if it was no longer keeping my cock hidden, and moved towards each other ...