rangard's blog

I show up at this guy's place to wrestle. We met online and, by his picture, he looked like I could easily take him. He called himself "The Bronx Bomber," which is a lame-ass name if you ask me. Mine, Rangard the Destroyer isn't all that much better, but at least it's based in some truth...and I was going to destroy this "Bomber" guy.

It was a cold evening when I walked up to his front door. We had agreed to wrestle in briefs, so I was wearing them underneath my clothes.

We agreed that our match was to be the best of three falls, pro-style. The first pin would be the first fall. To win the second fall, you had to strip your opponent and then pin him again. Pinning him a second time without stripping him didn't count. If your opponent came at any point after being stripped, he would automatically lose. It was up to you, then, to decide when the match ended. You could have your way with your vanquished foe if that's the kind of guy you were. In the event either wrestler came before being stripped, it didn't count...they could keep wrestling. You didn't have to make the guy cum to win, only to pin them after being stripped. But if they came after being stripped, they were done.

I was pretty sure I'd pin this guy and then I'd strip him and have my way with him. I'd *destroy* him, in other words. A squash match...and he wouldn't have a chance. I was younger and stronger than this guy. It would be over for him the second I rang the doorbell....which I did.

He greeted me at the door right away. He was shorter than I'd imagined. "This is going to be easier than I thought," I chuckled to myself as I greeted the guy with a smile. He was warm and welcoming. "Shame I am going to mess him up," I mused. He asked me in.

The house was warm. There was an entryway that you stepped into and the wrestling area was off to the left. He'd moved his furniture out of the middle of the room and it looked pretty cool...he had a mat and everything. It was clear he'd done this before. I quickly glanced at the room. There was a couch that looked promising to use for some holds or for slamming his face into it, and a bell. He had a fucking bell!

Mr. Bomber had his clothes on but was in bare feet. He had on a black tank top (with narrow straps), loose-fitting jeans, and a yellow headband. We made some small talk as I started to take my hoodie off over my head.

Then things went black. I felt a blow to my head as he took my hoodie and forced me to bend over. I couldn't get free. He unleashed blow after blow to my back and he used my hoodie to hold me in place. My mind was reeling and I was starting to lose my wind. I was wildly trying to get loose, but his onslaught was relentless. Blow after blow without stopping. He finally pulled the hoodie off and pushed me against the wall of his entryway and started pounding my abs and chest. I was confused, dazed, trying to catch my breath.

After what seemed like an eternity of blows to my abs and chest, he stripped my T-shirt off and threw it off to the side. He turned me around and pushed me to the wall again, only this time he started pounding my back...alternately ramming his shoulder into my middle back pushing me up against the wall. He grabbed the waist of my pants and used it as a handle to smash my body, weak from the initial onslaught, up against the wall over and over again. I was dizzy by this point and completely disoriented.

"What the fuck?" I thought as he kept hammering away at my back and throwing me into the wall. I was supposed to kick this guy's ass and before the match has even started, he's in full control. Each slam into the wall sent flashes of pain through my body. He flipped me around (I had no way of stopping him now) and started hammering again on my chest and abs. But now he would also stop occasionally to caress my body, like he was measuring his shots...or like he was admiring the beauty of my body while destroying it just the same. It was as erotic as it was painful.

Then, without any warning, he pulled me in close to his body and started sucking my left nipple. How did he know this was a weakness of mine? Now, not only was I weakened by the previous pounding, but also by the pleasure of his hot breath on my nipple. He sucked long and hard while also continuing to work my abs. I was helpless to stop it which was probably his point. He was able to do whatever he wanted to whatever part of my body he wanted and I couldn't stop it. He sucked for a long time and I was growing hard.

He seemed to sense this and then flipped me around again, and from behind me he unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. He yanked my pants down to my knees and then used them to pull my feet out from under me. I was now on the ground, down to my briefs, my cock hard and against his floor...he was fully clothed, standing above me...and I was completely under his control.

He then started to stomp on my back. I writhed in pain with each jolt from his foot. It only seemed to make him stomp faster and harder. He then took a moment to pull my shoes off and take my pants off completely. I was stripped down to my wrestling gear now, nothing on but my briefs...face down on his entryway floor, moaning.

He lifts me to my bare feet and gets me in a bear hug. The blows he delivered to my abs had not only softened my midsection but were now sore as fuck and his bear hug...a lot stronger than I would have guessed...was killing me with pain. He shook me in the hold making my pain only escalate. I was groaning with each shake.

My bare-skinned body against his clothes made me feel even more vulnerable and humiliated...and turned on. He hugged tighter and tighter until I nearly blacked out and then he dropped me onto his knee. A sharp pain ran up my back from my tail bone (as well as my balls), but he didn't let me drop. He kept me there, and while I was perched and balanced on his leg, he delivered even more punches to my gut. I might have even heard him laughing about it, but I wasn't sure...I was so overwhelmed with pain, surprise, confusion, dizziness, and trying to breathe that I couldn't tell for sure what was going on. I was just trying to survive.

He dropped me to the floor on my back. As I lay on there, he pressed his foot against my crotch and said, "Okay...let's wrestle, 'destroyer.'" I'm pretty sure he was sarcastic about that, judging by his weird-ass maniacal super-villain-like laugh. He picked me up by my hair, and led me, staggering, onto the mat In the middle of the living room floor. He threw me to the floor, and as if to add insult to injury, did three body drops on my unprotected chest. It was over before it even began. I started to regret ringing that damn doorbell.

And just as I blacked out, I heard him ring his bell to start round 1. Jesus Christ...he had a fucking bell!

I drifted off and I could tell even then that this wasn't going to end well.

Next up: Round 1