Wrestling, with a Fetish Ch. 10

Whenever I hear people say wrestling's fake, it almost fills me up with joy to reply no shit with a tone of surprise. Then I follow up and ask them if they knew Star Wars wasn't actually filmed in space. Fact of the matter is everyone knows it's fake. Or at least scripted. But that's the thing about wrestling matches. They're kind of like road trips. It's not really the finish or destination that matters. But rather the journey along the way to get there. And I've been on one helluva journey so far.

The last few weeks were going amazing with the planning for the match ahead. And not just the stuff happening in front of the cameras, but behind them as well. Very few knew this but Tyson Mel and myself spent several hours before and after each arena event training. Being knowledged in "Strong Style", Tyson really wanted to bring out the brawler in me. Or at least fake brawler.

He retaught me how to throw punches in the ring. Designed to look heavy and destructive like bare-knuckle boxers. He also showed me how to kick. Not in a martial arts manner, but more like a bar room brawler. All of which would improve my striking ability.

To be honest it wasn't a very pleasant experience. I first needed to learn how to do these things properly. Full strength contact. After quickly mastering that, then I had to learn how to pull my punches. At least by fifty percent. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst was having to be trained how to receive such assaults. Both half strength, and full strength. In the industry this is called "Working Stiff" and is very frowned upon when one wrestler does this against another in the ring. "Working Stiff" usually happens when someone becomes careless with their opponent, or actually wants to hurt them while claiming things are accidental. But Tyson and I agreed for the sake of the match; for it to look real, it had to feel real.

During my training we discussed things we wanted to happen for the match. This was the fun part. Though most moments tend to happen through spontaneous suggestion, others are very much planned in advance. Especially moments meant to make the fans jump from their seats. Both in the arena, and watching at home.

We discussed many moments. What would work. What wouldn't. Point and counterpoint. Suggestions and improvements. Looking back the majority of our ideas were flawless. Just needed a little streamlining.

The most important thing being the finish. I knew in advance I wasn't going to win the title. This rivalry was purely to advance my character for the company as well as another notch in Tyson's belt, title defense wise. But our parts were equally important. And we knew; in our hearts, we were going to put on a match that would have people talking for years.

Regarding Carmen and myself, our first night in Las Vegas was all pleasure. But our second night was meant to be all business. To do that, Carmen and I had to prepare in advance. By prepare meant me carefully worshiping Carmen's beautiful feet while she slept until she awakened. She woke up with a smile on her face, telling me good morning and she was enjoying what I was doing.

I moved around so I was sitting at the edge of the bed. My back to her. Very gently I took hold of her ankles and pulled her so her feet were much closer to the edge of the bed. I turned and looked back to her, returning her smile while looking into her eyes. Then the devil in me surfaced.

"Can I get uh... huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh." I groaned like some growling, heavy-metal rockstar.

I quickly wrapped my left arm around her ankles so she couldn't pull away. The fingers on my right hand immediately started playing guitar on her sensitive soles. The attack made her fully awake.

"What the-" she shrieked.

"Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh" I wailed louder, scratching her soles more aggressively.

"YOU BASTARD!" she shouted, desperately trying to pull her feet free.

"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!" I hollered louder.

Carmen's right foot broke away from my grip and started furiously kicking me in the back and the ribs. Thank God her feet were soft. Then she nailed me in the back of the head, her toenails almost cutting my scalp. The impact sent me off the edge of the bed, leading us to laugh extremely hard. This time no tickling.

"If you're gonna' touch my feet, then do it the right way. Asshole" Carmen spoke between snort-laughs.

"Yes ma'am." I replied as I knelt at the end of the bed.

I started by rubbing my hands around the balls and arches of her right foot first, working my way around the top and bottom of her sole. Squeezing the arch, placing pressure on each toe. Even sneaking in a few kisses and toe sucking. I was extra careful not to tickle, just putting enough pressure to relax and tingle the muscles and skin of her sole. I moved to the left foot and repeated the process, using both of my strong hands to relieve the tension and relax her muscles.

I slowly worked my way up her legs, caressing and massaging her perfect calves. Her skin was so smooth in my hands as I rubbed up and down her lower legs. I longed to feel the skin further up her body but I patiently waited as her pleasure was my focus.

I moved upwards, gently and lightly scratching her creamy, smooth, soft and inviting thighs. It was here I began to get lost. Do I massage the outside of her thighs and her hips first? Or lightly rub the inside and let the sensations near her sex begin to build?

I opted for the hips as I started moving further up her heavenly body. With my hands on her hips, I leaned in and kissed Carmen on her mons right above her pussy. I moved my head down and noticed her wetness began to shine against her sexy lips.

I smiled while I moved my hands on top of her body and rubbed her slender waist. Slowly and teasing my way inch by inch. I caressed the curve of her waist as it flared out to her womanly hips, hips I would invade in due time.

I reached her upper torso and began to scratch her full, milky, firm breasts. Applying forceful but indirect pressure on her hardening nipples. Her nipples respond from the hard pressure - pressure I could tell was starting to overwhelm her. Carmen's nipples hardened while I lightly tweaked each with my finger and she shivered with delight.

I continued onward, taking her closest arm and massaged the entire length from shoulder to fingertip. I took her hand and massaged every finger and every joint. I lightly scratched the sensitive areas on the inner portion of her forearm, then her bicep and triceps. I longed for her arms to circle me, surround me, hug, and guide me to pleasure her even more intensely.

I leaned down and lightly kissed her lips. I took her lower lip between mine and carefully sucked on it, controlling the kiss. Moving back down to her breasts, I kissed and teased each nipple separately with my warm lips. I moved my hands around the sides of her breast. Then her sexy waist. I lowered my head and gave her pussy a gentle blow with my breath and Carmen shuddered.

"Jesus, babe." Carmen panted "Just do it already or I'm going to explode."

My head lowered and kissed her already wet cunt. My tongue licked the edge of each lip of her pussy separately. I stuck one and then two fingers of my right hand into her passage. I felt her pussy grasp my fingers, pulling them in deeper. Carmen's warmth increased as I penetrated further inward. My left hand ventured up and teased and massaged her swollen breasts and hard nipples. My tongue danced around her clit, never quite licking the ever-so-sensitive area. My fingers curled up to rub her magic spot and applied pressure from inside. My tongue felt the flesh around her clit stick out further and become more excited and engorged. Her legs tensed. Her entire body squeezing and focusing on the pleasure and coming orgasms.

I could do this forever. Carmen tasted sweet at all times. Her hips rocked back and forth in erotic rhythm. Her breathing was erratic. Carmen's soft, sexy voice moaned with each movement of my fingers inside her and each swirl of my tongue around her clit. Her legs moved around uncontrollably as the desire strengthened within her core.

I heard her moans grow louder and more frequent. The positive feedback sent shivers through my own body. My cock jumping at the sound of her voice. I applied more pressure with my fingers within her pussy and licked with more fervor than before. Her juices dripped down my hand as Carmen neared orgasm. Her back arched and Carmen held her breath as the orgasm began to course through her body. She moaned loudly and sharply as it struck. Carmen's juices flowed along my fingers. Her clit pulsating more in my mouth. Her hips moved against my face. I continued to rub and lick as the orgasm overtook her body.

After she finished cumming, I move up her body. Kissing and caressing her nipples again with my mouth and tongue. I reached her mouth and this time I kissed Carmen passionately. Allowing my tongue to enter her mouth.

I reached down with my hand. Grabbing my rock-hard throbbing member, and guided it to her hot, wet, tight snatch. Carmen encouraged me by moving her hips towards my cock and moaning in anticipation. I slowly entered her sex. My cock welcomed by her inviting pussy. Filling and stretching her tightness. A moan of relief came from her lips just as I bottomed her out.

I rocked my hips back and forth in time with hers. I could feel her pussy squeeze around my member. Juices continuously coating my cock. I kissed her aching breasts and nipples while slowly fucking her wetness. Moans of pleasure continued from her mouth as I filled her insides.

I quickened the pace. I absolutely had to cum. The pressure was intense, caused by our sexiness and her erotic responses to my wicked acts. I wanted to fill her pussy with my hot cum. My balls ached to release inside of her. To cum with her. To shoot each intense rope forcefully deep inside her pussy as her core suffered a sexual meltdown.

Her tight pussy continued to massage the entire length of my cock. I began to feel the orgasm grow at the base of my shaft. I could feel the pressure from the cum desperately seeking release inside of Carmen. The pressure built and the orgasm arrived. I grabbed her hips so I could cum deep inside her. I pulled her closer. I couldn't let Carmen move. I desired to fill the deepest areas of her pussy. Carmen must have known what was happening to me within her pussy. This set off another orgasm throughout Carmen's erotic body. Her juices and my sperm melted together as I came hard within her. Her muscles clamped down, determined to not let my seed escape.

Both of us exhausted, I laid down next to Carmen and held her from behind, cradling her soft skin and her beauty. Our legs, arms, and bodies caressed and tingled together. I felt her soft skin everywhere I touched. I kissed her neck and held Carmen in my arms for what seemed like days while she sighed, relaxed, and basked in the glow of her orgasmic experience.

The bedsheets were a mess from our bodily fluids. It took a little convincing but Carmen and I covered our tracks by making a fresh pot of coffee and spilling small amounts of it onto places we left our juices behind. After that, we informed the front desk of our "coffee in bed accident" and they offered to send up a maid to replace our sheets after we stepped out. A childish trick I learned from a rather freaky exgirlfriend forever ago. Many hours later we cleansed ourselves, got dressed, and made the very short but very hot walk across the street to the MGM Grand.

Arriving at the arena felt like any other day. People were constantly moving about similar to ants after kicking over one of their hills. It was very busy and we needed to flow with the traffic to prevent from getting stomped on by a single-minded member of the production staff. After avoiding multiple collisions with the ring and stage crew, Carmen and I managed to get our first look at all of their hard work.

The ring itself looked very standard. But the gold ring ropes seemed to have a soft glow to them. I found out this was due to a special dye used on the ropes and barely noticeable black lights set above the ring. It was a very clever trick. The stage; however, was far more breathtaking.

The setup was designed to look like a giant, old fashioned slot machine. Our company logo; as well as various logos of different wrestlers, were at the top on pay table display. On the right side was an enormous pull-handle that was designed to actually rotate downward some ninety degrees before returning upright. When "pulled", the jumbotron would mimic the three spinning reels. Instead of images like cherries, bells, and bars; the display would spin the logos of individual wrestlers or tag teams. This in turn would setup the best part of the whole stage display. When certain logos aligned, those wrestlers would walk out onto what looked like a payout tray. Complete with blinking lights as glamourous as Las Vegas itself. The ramp was equally important. It was covered with a digital display able to be walked upon. Every time wrestlers walked to the ring, the images of gold coins would "fall" from the giant slot machine towards the ring. Without a doubt, the entirety of it was a magnificent sight to behold.

As more of the roster arrived, everyone started breaking off into their groups for their matches. Chi-Town, Ian, and Titan were off in catering with Stag Party. Anthony was making his rounds to make sure everyone was ready. And Carmen went her own way to speak with her opponent. I quickly sought out Tyson so we could discuss the main event.

He was just as eager to speak with me when we encountered each other. We spoke over our big moments in the match. But Tyson was adamant we spoke about the finish. He wanted to be sure it went absolutely as planned. So, we quickly ran through the routine of it again.

Once the ref signaled us to wrap up the match, we'd begin. Tyson would charge at me and connect with his signature flying knee attack. This would cause me to stagger backwards against the ring ropes. Using them to rebound back at Tyson, I would connect with a very exaggerated mixed martial arts style Superman Punch. Tyson dazed; I would set him up for my pinning finisher.

The finisher starts by placing the opponent in a standing arm triangle chokehold. From here I violently leap backwards, slightly spinning my body before takeoff and landing on my upper back and shoulders. This would cause my opponent's body to come off the mat, slightly rotate, and crash face first right after. In truth, they would use the forearm of their trapped limb to cushion the slam. The finisher is tricky, but it's quick. And it can come out of nowhere.

Back to the finish. Tyson; now loosely trapped in the hold, would use his snared arm to elbow me three times in the head or neck. On the fourth strike, I would out maneuver his elbow and bring him down onto the mat. Locking him up in my submission finisher like our first encounter. After about thirty seconds or so, Tyson would find a way to escape. From here he would once again attack me with his flying knee signature move. Then finally end the match with his pinning finisher.

We practiced the scenario for weeks. By the time we were ready, it was as well choreographed as a dance or a Hollywood fight scene. Content we were ready with how the match ended; we parted ways to get dressed for the occasion.

Over the course of my time with the company, my ring attire went through a number of changes. Starting out I looked very generic. Single colored trunks, kneepads, and boots. As I grew in popularity, my attire changed to long black and blue patterned tights and boots with shin pads. When my friends and I became a stable, I wrestled in street clothes such as slightly torn jeans, a shirt with our team logo, and black combat boots. After all of that, the people in wardrobe had a big surprise for me that night.

My newest ring attire was a composite of how I looked before and after my friends arrived. A pair of blue jeans were altered to include my black and blue ring tights. The pant legs were split in halves. The outside halves were still blue jean material. The inner halves were replaced with vinyl material made to look like my old black and blue ring tights. This design started just below the crotch and went to the very end of the pant legs. My left kneepad was a generic black color. My right kneepad was royal blue, with my wrestler logo stitched on top of it. As well as patriotic red, white, and blue tassels hanging on the right side of my knee. My combat boots were the same, except for my team logo etched onto the sides above the ankles. Lastly was a shirt baring my logo on it, designed for me to easily rip apart once the match started. But all of that was what I was wearing to the ring. The cosmetics were even more fun.

After dressing myself in my ring gear, Carmen came into my luxury locker room to apply the finishing touches. In one hand was a kit meant for applying paint onto flesh. In the other was a thick, permanent marker of black ink. Both of which were going to be used on my skin.

Carmen started with the marker. She instructed me to make a fist with my right hand. From here she slowly and carefully scribbled designs across my fingers, just beneath my knuckles. When finished, she told me to do the same with my left hand. After that I was commanded to keep my fists tight, not to bump into anything, and allowed the ink to dry onto my skin. After five minutes, the finished result was pretty slick.

On my right hand were the letters: SCRE. One letter on each finger. On my left hand were the letters: WYOU. The idea was for me to taunt Tyson at some point in our match. At the right moment, I would stretch my arms in front of me and make my fists connect at the index fingers and thumbs. As if holding an imaginary stick or the top of a steering wheel. From this angle, I'd be sending a message clearly written on my fingers from my right hand to my left: SCREWYOU.

Next came the paint kit. Carmen had a wicked idea that I thought was really cool. The right side of my face would be painted black. From here, she would use the rest of the paint to make a combination of lightning and blue fire designs on the black "canvas" of my face. I had to give it to her, the girl was very skilled with her hands. Certainly in more ways than one.

By the time Carmen was finished making me look bad ass, the pay-per-view already started. The first several matches definitely got the crowd in the mood for a great night. But the mid-way event was quickly approaching and I made a promise to my friends I'd be there with them at the Gorilla Position before their match.

Certain parts of the backstage area were not well ventilated, so I had to be careful not to rush and start sweating. Otherwise, Carmen's hard work would have been wasted. Carmen was a genius; however, having bought a battery powered fan from a gift shop within the casino hours in advance. While she got ready for her match, I made my way to see my friends.

They were also dressed in their Sundays finest. Max and Jeremy Stag were there as well. Each of us taking turns telling stories of our best and worst moments in the company. Through it all, I also had to duck and dodge my coworkers trying to touch my face. Each of them trying to smear Carmen's work like bratty children putting their hands into a beautiful birthday cake.

Soon they were given the signal to be ready for their match. I wished them all good luck and ventured back to my room. In the hallways, I could hear our team's theme music being played first. As well as the cheers of the fans. Next came Stag Party's theme music. Also followed by the boos of those in attendance.

I managed to reach my private locker room just as the match started. Carmen was ahead of me and put the thermostat at a reasonable setting that would keep me from sweating. I was also very cold. Thankfully we packed some thin jackets for our traveling and I was quick to put one on.