SECW - SouthEast Championship Wrestling

Characters:

You are not logged in. - Madison Jones - Age: 28, 5'10", 198 lbs, 8" Uncut Cock

You are not logged in. - Lazlo Kohl - Age: 34, 6’10”, 184 lbs, 9” Cut

Madison Jones:
My last match of the SECW Southern Scream Tours is here in Memphis Tennessee, and on Halloween eve. In the back locker room of the location, I'm sitting around as the make-up artist works on my face paint for the night. This evening I'm going out there against Lazlo Kohl, a formidable person I've heard about, and somebody who, if I'm being honest, looks hot as hell. I'm actually already rocking a hard bulge while I'm thinking about the grappling holds we will be in out there as the artist is finishing up. It's around this time I notice you in the locker room as well and give a casual wave from the chair.

You are not logged in. - Wolf Face Paint

Lazlo Kohl:
Damn — this has been way too long. I joined up ages ago, but for this to be my debut in the fed…it’s almost sad. SECW extended southern hospitality to the fullest, but here I am booting up for the first time after making the long trip south from Milwaukee.
Lazlo Kohl: Still, I’m stoked. I’m excited to be taking on one of the fed’s biggest stars, Madison. He’s cute, a great wrestler, and I get him in a one-on-one submission match.

Lazlo Kohl:
I walk towards the exit and see you there, face paint. I bite my lip — of all things, you’re a wolf… oh this is going to be good. You wave and I just can’t help it; pop out my chest and — HooOOwl! I can tell you're surprised by my reaction, but I walk back to my locker for *one* more piece of gear for the match. It will make much more sense when you realize just how much experience I have in handling wolves.

You are not logged in. - Lazlo Kohl

Madison Jones:
"A doggy mask?" I ask to the annoyance of the makeup artist, her giving me a stern look. I cast my apologetic eyes at her as she sprays my face with something to help preserve the paint even when sweating. Once she is done I rise and look in the mirror, "Hope you don't mind me ripping that mask off you at the end. Always wanted to unmask a person in the ring." I give a toothy grin as the stagehand makes us away it's about time for me to head out. I wait a moment to see if there are any final comments from you.

Lazlo Kohl:
“Awe, says the poser in face paint.” I grab my bulge and shake it a bit. I chuckle as the artist applies fancy hairspray to your face to keep your paint from running when the sweat starts flowing. “You can try to rip whatever you want off stud, but I ain’t a luchador. I’m more than just a little too feral for you to handle.”

Announcer:
"Ladies and Gentleman, the following is scheduled for one fall by Submission, loser gets fucked! The first competitor, making his way to the ring for San Francisco California, standing at 5'10" and weighing in at 198 lbs. He is the rising star of the SECW! Madison Jones!"

Madison’s Music

Madison Jones:
An English cover of the song Alumina plays as I make my way there, the crowd cheering as I've gained a lot of fame as the man headed toward the championship here at SECW. I wave to the crowd as I strut down in my blue trunks, many of them taking pictures of me in the facepaint. Rolling into the ring under the bottom rope while the crowd is cheering, I rise to my feet and climb a turnbuckle. Raising both hands, a shower of lights from cameras flashes over me before I finally drop down to my corner looking for Lazlo Kohl to come and join me.

You are not logged in. - Madison Jones

Announcer:
"And Hailing from the Midwest, standing at 5'9" and 185 lbs is the former Underground sensation, LAZLO KOHL!"

Lazlo Kohl:
I strut to the ring and step through the rope, rocking my head from side to side with a crack. I stare you down. Yep — I don’t know how, but even sexier as a canine. I bounce on my heels and jog around you and lunge for the lock up.

Madison Jones:
You are eager to lock up already. I'm surprised as the bell hasn't rung yet, the Ref quickly getting into place while the crowd cheers. Bell rings as we lock up in the collar and elbow.

You are not logged in. - Collar & Elbow Lockup

I have about a 15 lbs weight advantage over you, but otherwise, we are the same size. Still, your quick lunge into the lock-up gets me off guard and I'm quickly being forced back. Instead of digging my heels in to fight it, I instead fall to my back after adjusting to line my back up with my corner, then throw my boot into your gut before kicking you over my shoulder with a monkey flip.

Lazlo Kohl:
We clash as the lackluster ref finally catches on that this is a match, not a spectacle. The bell rings as I start to drive you back; the initiative is a wonderful thing. 15lbs may not be a deal breaker, but it’s no paperweight to contend with either. I push the advantage, but your resistance seems…timid.

Quick adjustment and I realize you’re shifting in center of gravity too late. You pull back and launch me high with a monkey flip! I land on the canvas with a thud but I’m able to tuck and roll enough to come up to my knees gripping the rope and holding the small of my back.

Madison Jones:
I didn't hear the clatter I was looking for meaning that you either caught yourself or rolled out of it. I assume a roll as there is a lot of crossover between wrestling and martial arts, myself being a prime example of that. On my back, I bring my knees to my chest and kip up to standing turning your way after.

Having spent some energy getting up quickly, I then lunge at you in the corner trying to drive my shoulder into your gut and ram you in the corner in the process.

Lazlo Kohl:
You toss your legs over your head (not at all a bad view for me, I’ll admit) and spring up to standing. You lunge, shoulders down and I know I’m vulnerable to getting pinned in the corner from this position. As you get close, I make a diving roll to your far side toward the middle of the ring and sweep my arm under your knee as you charge, angling to send you stumbling face-first into that turnbuckle instead.

Rushing forward, you duck out of the way while I'm coming in at you, then go to trip me up. I stumble, but my hands come up and grab the middle ropes allowing me to catch myself sparing me a heavy impact with my head. I then jerk around looking at you, not happy at all with what just happened, then I step forward and try to stomp on your shoulder with you down there. Let's see how you respond...

Lazlo Kohl:
I make it to the middle, but you catch yourself. Damn. I'm not able to get to my feet fast enough before you're on me and send a boot quickly toward my shoulder. Without enough time to do anything else, I roll on my back to somersault backward just to gain some distance between us. It's a sloppy dodge, but at least I'm back on my feet.

Madison Jones:
With you back on your feet, my hands come up defensive as I start to circle with you. The crowd is beginning to heat up too, their cheers split between us. As You seem good at anticipating things... This time when I come toward you, I lift my left boot and try to kick it into your gut wanting to work that more and wear you down, but I'm also expecting you might match it. If you block the hit, I kick up and slam my right foot into the side of your head with a Step-Up Enziguri.

Lazlo Kohl:
You take a defensive stance before approaching me this time. Good, that means we're getting serious now and sandbagging is over. The crowd notices the change too and responds with anticipation. You drive a boot straight into my gut and I catch it. You switch balance in an instant and go for the Enziguri. I can toss your foot back to force you to swing but I can't block the oncoming kick from this side. I send you back to fall hard on a shoulder as I weave my head back to avoid your kick only to have my nose take the impact and I immediately taste blood as I cover my face trying to recover.

Madison Jones:
Falling to my back a little crooked landing on my shoulder, you hear a grunt of pain from me. I quickly roll away from you a full rotation, then kip-up again, spending energy to rise quickly. It's then I see a small trickle of blood from your nose under your dog mask. I feel a little bad, but blood sometimes happens in wrestling and neither of us is new to that. I then step forward reaching for your hand and try to Irish Whip you into a corner again.

Lazlo Kohl:
You spring up again and I notice a sheen of sweat forming on your skin, breathing heavily for it being early in the match. Apparently, the pretty wolf likes to show off a bit for the fans, noted. I wipe the blood from my chin straps away with my thumb as you come at me, reaching for an Irish whip. I let you take my hand without a fuss, but when you pull me back towards the turnbuckle, I lower my body and my heels on the canvas, using my slightly slighter frame to act as a counterbalance along with the force of your pull to twist the move around just before I make contact with the leather to give you the least amount of time possible to counter.

Madison Jones:
As I'm moving to Irish Whip you using your smaller frame to try and reverse the maneuver, and in turn, send me flying to a corner. I twist and land with my back hitting the buckle, arms spread over the top ropes. You're right that I'm sweating some, I'm spending a lot of energy here, and that face paint is starting to drip a little even with the spray that was applied to it. Upon impact I play up the pain, letting out a holler and staying there for a moment slumping. ...It's a trick. If you come my way, I throw up both of my boots with my arms holding the top ropes, and go to slam my feet into your gut as hard as I can.

Lazlo Kohl:
I send you into the turnbuckle and watch with a smirk hidden under my pup hood as you slump, arms over the top ropes for support. I cock my head in a very...doglike way...so the audience knows I'm liking what I see. I come in close and fast for a splash but you throw up your boots and catch me midair in the gut. I clench my abs but it's not nearly enough with all my body weight behind it. I double over in pain clutching my gut and back away as fast as I can.

Madison Jones:
With my boots colliding with your gut, I smile while rising, and back up as you back away. This wolf isn't letting my prey get away from me, I grab ahold of that dog mask of yours and tuck the back of your head under my arm while reaching back grabbing your shorts. With a grunt and a heave, I then go to lift your backside and try to slam your head down into the canvas face first with a DDT.

You are not logged in. - DDT

Lazlo Kohl:
My head hits the canvas from a mean DDT.

My head spikes the mat and I feel woozy as the room spins. I kick my feet in pain as I try to shake my head out from the daze. I lift my upper body and get to my hands and knees.

Madison Jones:
Landing on my back while you, to my surprise, fully flip over me, the crowd explodes with the success of the power move. I see you already recovering some, maybe that dog mask absorbing a little bit of the impact. Regardless, roll over onto my hand and knees and proceed to mount up behind you in the Referee's position.

You are not logged in. - Referee's Position

You can feel my hard cock pressing against your ass... I go to slip my arms under yours and clasp them into a Full Nelson. If it works, I then go to throw myself on my back dragging you with me, the clasp behind your neck releasing as I spread your arms wide. I try to lock you down in my Grounded Crucifix Nelson.

Lazlo Kohl:
You mount me for the referee's position as I try to collect my wits. By the feel of your cock though, maybe this should be called doggie... I try to pull away but you hook your arms under mine and go for the Nelson, I fight with sheer muscle and prevent you from locking your hands together

But as you throw yourself back I fall with you. You change tactics and pull my arms wide again for a crucifix instead. I dig my heels into the mat and PUSH myself up your body, my ass grinding up on your bulge as I smear the back of my sweaty shoulder against your smearing face paint and rub it against your eyes to blur your vision, "Let's see what kind of shift this paint is made out of!" SMEAR, SMEAR

Madison Jones:
I have to close my eyes while you start trying to smear the paint around on my face, me not wanting that in them at all. Clenching them tight, I manage to avoid getting any in my eyes for now... but I realize I need to do something to bring you under control. I hook my right leg around your thigh while you are humping up in the air, and then start to rub your bulge with my boot. Several members of the crowd start whistling at the action as I'm very well known for my erotic play. I don't talk while you struggle, but I do hold the nelson tight making sure your sweaty torso is well on display. After a moment of rubbing your cock, I then try to hook the rib of your shorts with my heel and try to pull it down to let your cock out.

Lazlo Kohl:
You toss your face from side to side as I rub. No yells of pain or screams of anguish but I can at least tell from your scrunched face pressed against my body that you're trying to keep the paint from running in your eyes. Your boot starts to rub my shaft through my gear and it responds on cue to the action as my torso is more than just a little exposed in this position. We work this game for a moment, but as the catcalls build, you start to push my shorts down, threatening to expose me even further. All the while I struggle up, forcing my shoulder back into your face. SMEAR, SMEAR

You get my waistband down to reveal a jock underneath my gear. Your own hard shaft is easy to feel through only your gear on my ass. I take advantage and rock my hips back and forth, teasing the tip of your head through your gear with sensations.

Madison Jones:
There are a few things that happen now, I'll start with my cock... As you begin to work your ass against it, you do feel it plenty hard in my blue trunks. What you don't know is that I'm uncut, and even for an uncut guy, I have a large amount of foreskin over it. The act of you working my cock like this is more painful than pleasurable, and I do give some grunts from it. Those grunts are masked by the pain I'm feeling as the sweat from my face, your back, and the smearing of paint are starting to get through even my clenched eyes. You start to hear me grunting, perhaps a small cry as the burning starts to set in. I make a mental note to check podcasts with the famous Sting or Finn Balor to see if he ever talked about preventing paint from getting paint in their eyes. I twist my body to the left slightly, then quickly to the right and throw you off me dropping my back to the canvas. I then roll away from you to the ropes getting to my knees, hands coming to wipe at my eyes.

Lazlo Kohl:
Pain, grunts, a loosening of your grip...it all adds up to a perfect storm. Your head thrashes and I work a little harder. SMEAR, SMEAR grind, grind (There's more than just what meets the eye under your gear based on what I'm feeling. Noted.) But now's not the time to get excited, that comes later. with a twist and a heave, you disengage and toss me off you. You roll away to the ropes and immediately wipe at your eyes to clear them. The white and black paint run together to make an ugly gray shade to your face. You'd almost look sickly if I didn't know better.

I need to capitalize and turn this around. I grab your hair and lift you just a bit, and run your face along the top rope to maximize the effect.

Madison Jones:
I'm focused enough trying to get this shit out of my eyes that you can come up to me without much trouble. Next thing I know, you are running my face along the ropes, a move that is generally frowned upon, but not illegal. I holler now as you do it, hands coming to fight the tension. I need to fight back if I'm going to get free. I bring my left elbow forward and slam it into your gut, a little lower than usual, that soft tissue below your navel and above your groin. I then bring my hands up to your head gripping that makes and fall to my ass dropping your head on the top rope as I get free. I then slide out of the ring needing to get a moment to recover.

Lazlo Kohl:
I grind you across the rope. The ref starts a count, "Yeah yeah, I know." but you reach behind your head to grab my hood and PULL my throat down over the top rope. I gasp and cough from the sudden movement and double over retreating for the center of the ring as you slide out of the ring still trying to clear the paint from your eyes. I take as deep a breath as I can under the circumstances and bounce against the far ropes as I run and launch myself feet first through the ropes, taking advantage of your impaired vision so you can only hear my plan as I hurdle toward you.

Madison Jones:
Outside of the ring, I think... I hope... I have a reprieve. Despite the wiping of my eyes, some of the paint has gotten into them thanks to the combination of sweat and tears. I hear you stumble away from the rope with the attack, and so I turn to pull myself to the barricade next to some fans. There is an act of kindness here, one of those fans of mine pulls off his shirt and uses his water to wash the paint away. As I'm holding the cloth tending to that, I'm completely oblivious to what you are doing. That fan tries to call out, but perhaps with me right next to him, he is a bit distracted. Suddenly your boots come crashing into my back as you come flying out of the ring with a baseball slide knocking me almost over the barricade. A loud grunt of pain comes from me with my ass up in the air as I'm winded, all while the Ref starts counting with us out of the ring. One... Two...

Lazlo Kohl:
I see a concerned fan helping you out, but that's fine -- your back is also to me as I leave the canvas aiming right for that sweet spot. BINGO! My boots hit their mark and you hit the barricade. Hard. The ref starts counting again, "Yeah yeah ref, we heard you the first time!" I made a rude (but not obscene) gesture) toward the ref before coughing again from the throat damage. I reach down to grab your hair

Three… Pull you up… Four… and make to toss you back under the ropes.

Madison Jones:
Tossed back inside the rope, I roll to the center of the ring gripping my gut and reeling from the impact against the barricade. I'm not faking this time, but I'm also far from out of this match. I push myself to my hands and knees, then to my feet. Hands coming up defensive, I gesture for you to come dance with you able to see my cleaned face now for the first time. My eyes are focused on you, a little watery, some red veins showing, but you can see a very serious look behind them. Wrestling is supposed to be fun, using my face paint against me like that, attacking me when I was trying to fix that... that makes me angry. I get ready to counter you if you come in for a grapple.

Lazlo Kohl:
After tossing you back under the bottom rope, I walk up the corner stairs — partially as an act of confidence and partially just to save energy. In a war of attrition, it’s best to play the long game. And make no mistake, this is war now. I step through the ropes as you’re getting to your feet. I take note of your protective arm around your gut, but when you brace yourself for the grapple, any indication of pain is replaced with firm resolve behind those bloodshot eyes. I raise my arms and move in fast, going for the collar & elbow grapple…

But as soon as I reach you I send a quick boot to your already tenderized gut and follow up with a stiff elbow to the small of your back.

Madison Jones:
You are coming in and seeing my defensive state ready to counter a grapple. You throw a boot to my gut to disrupt that, me letting out a grunt as you then press into another collar and elbow.

Struggle with me, normally my muscle mass would give me the advantage, but we are more on par now; the normal joys of the struggle start to turn into stress as my eyes are burning. I retaliate by ramming my knee into your gut as hard as I can adding another hit to your abs before flipping you over me here center of the ring in an Arm Drag. On your side, I hold you there with my knees resting on your ribs and head, working the joint of your arm while the crowd cheers.

Lazlo Kohl:
I give a toothy grin under my hood that no one can see as my boot connects — let’s just keep working that gut and see how long you last. But you stand up and pull me into another C&E with speed. We vie for the better position, but your size advantage isn’t as noticeable this time around. Even so, you send your knee to my gut and follow up with an arm drag, flipping me over onto my side and locking up my shoulder. This is not a good position for the lighter man to be in and I feel your knees in my rib cage and I know you’ll take full advantage if you can.

I let my grappling brain take over. I shoot one leg forward and keep the other where it is. I force my torso to rotate under your knees with a grimace but it’s just enough to unbalance you. Swing my leg back and up for maximum momentum and sending a knee into your temple.

Madison Jones:
Holding your arm with both hands, you start to shift so you can get into a better position throwing a kick up at my head. It hits, and my head slings to my side, but I'm still balanced on top of you and manage to keep my position with a growl. I then go to flip you over on your front mounting your backside while wrenching that arm behind your back into a grounder hammerlock.

You are not logged in. - Grounded Hammerlock

I then try to grab the other aiming to pull it back into a Grounded Double Hammerlock. Let's see if you can avoid it.

You are not logged in. - Grounded Double Hammerlock

Lazlo Kohl:
My knee connects but you use that weight advantage again to stay on top of me. Instead of getting free, you rotate my arm into a hammerlock, really manipulating my shoulder joint. It burns… you mount me from behind and reach for my other arm — I hoist my butt up under you and kick a leg up under my abs and HEAVE with everything I’ve got. We jerk forward as your reach and I rotate back — can feel the damage to my trapped shoulder this is going to cost me already — and send my elbow back into your ribs/abs with the full force of my scrabble to counter behind it. We rotate to the side together as I work to free myself.

Madison Jones:
With me sitting on your ass, the angle for the elbow is shit with it barely doing anything to me, but your bucking and struggling prevents me from securing your right arm. That's okay, while I usually use this move to be able to strip a person of their trunks similar to my dad, I have a different goal today. You are getting your knees up under your, but my free hand is coming to the back of your head, to the straps of your mask. I start to undo them while you are working yourself free. Finally, with the final strap undone, I reach forward over your mask sliding my fingers into the eye holes with my nails sliding over your temple... then I give a hard pull trying to demask you. You may be able to get me off you and get free, but it will cost you your dog mask.

Lazlo Kohl:
I struggle and can loosen your grip -- Yes! But you do something completely unexpected. I'm too busy trying to get out from under you to notice at first, but when you slide your hand up under my hood, I let out a frantic sound, something between a howl and a yip. It's too late. You pull the hood off in one quick motion as I slip away. I crawl away on all fours for some distance before pounding the mat to frustration and jumping to my feet in a rage.

You are not logged in. - Lazlo Unmasked

"If you wanted it so bad, you should have just said so from the beginning! But if the pup's gone, all you're gonna get is the DOG -- Bring it!"

You are not logged in. - Bring it!

Madison Jones:
There is that handsome face I've been looking forward to seeing. I rise to my feet while you are talking, holding the mask up high like a prize while the crowd cheers. "I've always wanted to unmask a person in the ring. Maybe I'll wear it when I'm fucking you." I toss it to my corner and bring my hands up, fingers wiggling. The rim of your shorts is still down a little to reveal your jockstrap under it, I still have a lot of stripping to do to you before I try and finish this. I hope I have the steam in me to complete that task. For now, I inch towards you defensively and throw a fake kick at your knee pulling it back quickly. If you fall for the feint, I grab your shoulders and pull you down into my knee as hard as I can aiming to break those bricks of yours more.

Lazlo Kohl:
You take my hood and parade around the ring with it. That taunt...my ears go red with rage but I take the time to breath and set my sights clearly on the goal -- I'm gonna make you pay for that. I'm going to make you PAY. You approach and I watch you with absolute focus, mad at myself for missing what your goal was all along in removing my hood. You approach slowly and make a kicking sweep at my legs, but your abs don't follow through. You have all my attention now, absolute focus, I'm not going to fall for a feint.

I dodge around your outstretched leg to your side and, using my superior speed compared to the big man's power he's been so keen to show off all match, I grab my arms around your waist and LIFT, going for a surprise facebuster!

Madison Jones:
Dodging under my arms showing your spryness, you get around behind me and wrap your arms around my waist. I start to panic, my hands coming down to press on yours, them pushing lower against my bulge as we do the usual song and dance to the cheers of the crowd. Just when I think I'm about to get free, you then lift me and slam me down face-first into the canvas. I let out a loud grunt upon impact bordering on a cry, my hands coming up to cushion my face some before impact. I lay there still for a moment stunned by the power move.

Lazlo Kohl:
It takes a moment with the struggle, but when we land, we land hard and the mat shakes. I know I need to press my advantage while you lay out dazed but I need to shake out my shoulder from the earlier joint work for just a moment. I roll my neck out as I crawl toward you and go for a loose side mount and send my knee into your ribcage. Then again. Over and over to keep attacking that midsection without letting up the intensity.

Madison Jones:
Starting to attack my ribs with your knee while in your side mount, I let out a grunt from the first one still groggy. The second impact rouses me more with a deep growl. I'm not used to somebody attacking my ribs like this, there is some worry creeping into me about you trying to bust a rib or at least maybe crack one. When you throw the third knee, I shift on my side and grab it with my arm, "Enough." I growl, my other hand pressing down hard to PUSH myself up my hands and knees causing you to topple off me. I then rise to my feet still holding your knee, and try to toss you over me with a Dragon Screw.

Lazlo Kohl:
I can feel your whole body wincing with my knee strikes, but you shift your body, clearly still in the game, and grab my leg as you push yourself up. I bounce on the other leg as you start to swing low. We've been battling long enough for me to know you're going for even more joint damage. Seeing no way out of this quick-paced drag down without damage, I launch myself forward as you swing your arm under my leg and swing my whole body back. My knee hits the mat at an awkward angle as I swing my back hard to land right on your ribs/torso again. I let out a yell as I feel my weight trap my knee poorly right after. I roll forward, holding my knee with my injured arm. I'm slow to get up, but I know this match is going to take everything I've got so I stand, babying my knee, shoulder, and ribs -- hell, one hold side is starting to go numb.

Madison Jones:
The landing isn't as perfect as I would have liked, and I curse myself for missing the opportunity to get ahold of you while your back lands on my chest. Would have been good for a Rear Naked... You get away from me while I bring my knees to my chest and kip up again, me burning some more stamina to take advantage while you tend to your knee. There is some anger showing in me, my left hand feeling my ribs, but then I rush at you throwing caution to the wind, and try to nail you with a short-range spear hoping to knock the wind out of you.

You are not logged in. - Spear

Lazlo Kohl:
You rise more quickly than I do and the anger on your face is obvious to everyone in the arena even though your smeared face paint — it distorts or otherwise handsome features. You charge with abandon and lower your shoulder. I have just enough time to rotate to my good side as you launch yourself at me. I hop up and back, flexing my abs as you connect. There’s no way to make a spear *not* hurt like hell, but you can reduce the damage if you can carry your momentum through in the same direction as the impact. I loop my forearm under your chin and we hit the mat. HARD. I groan but lock in that forearm under my other bicep and SQUEEZE in a front guillotine choke. I lift my legs around your torso, working hard to lock them together behind you to inflict even more damage on your midsection if I can.

Madison Jones:
Countering the Spear into a Guillotine we crash to the canvas with our nearly 400 lbs weight making a loud impact on the canvas. I am very familiar with this move. As you secure your arms around my neck, I'm already moving to break free, my first action being to hammer my fist into your ribs aiming to prevent a tight lock. I'm on my knees while you get your legs around my core, a grunt of pain from my ribs while you squeeze. I puss up on my knees and get to my feet, ass up into the air with your back on the canvas. My right hand gripping your left shoulder, thumb pressing into your armpit, my left hand coming down to grab your waistband for leverage, I then lift your 184 lbs frame off the canvas 2... 3... 3.5... feet, and slam your back down trying to break the hold.

Lazlo Kohl:
Panting and sweating hard, I can tell exhaustion is beginning to set in. But the big man shows off his muscle advantage again, rocking forward and raining fists down into my core. But my legs lock in and I can tell from the grunt and the expression on your face that all the effort I’ve put into damaging your core is paying off. You muscle through and push forward, rolling me up and grabbing my waistband for leverage — my ass pops over the band as you hoist me up, my ass on display for all to see — then BOOM! The canvas shakes as you slam me back down.

I take a deep breath after the air is knocked out of me but I twist my ankles together, my injured knee on fire now. It’s come down to this, I put my faith in my 24” quads and SQUEEZE your torso. I reach up and loop an arm around your neck and send forearms into your handsome, but paint-smeared face. I rock my body as I squeeze around you and my bulge tents against your abs. The aggression of the match brought us to intimately close quarters…this has been one hell of a match and my hormones propel me forward at this point.

Madison Jones:
The force of impact fails to break the hold, if anything you seem to double down on it. I'm losing steam from both my expenditure of energy and your squeezing on my core. I hate it. My pulling on your shorts has revealed your ass though... I was once fucked in a Guillotine... and I once fucked a person in one myself which didn't work out well for me. Having learned from the past, I release my grip on your shorts and jock and bring my fingers to your exposed cheeks. Taking my middle and index finger, I now PUSH them into your hole oil checking you and making it as uncomfortable as possible, a desperate act. It gets worst, digging into my reserve again with me still on my feet, I go to lift you off the canvas once more. I throw everything I can muster into it knowing you will likely choke me out if this fails. Rising to standing while holding you, I then rush and go to slam you back into a corner, me that this will break the hold and even stun or I am likely to go out.

Lazlo Kohl:
I’m all in at this point, and you…well, you go all in too. You take my exposed ass and finger me roughly. As aroused as I am right now, I wasn’t expecting *that*. I take a sharp intake of breath as you make sure I FEEL it. Another forearm, and another to your handsome face. You LIFT as I’m impaled on your fingers, you again use my gear for leverage and face the corner. Fully off the mat, I clamp down tight with everything I have going for the constriction to cut off your steam. But you charge the corner — 400 lbs of weight behind the impact as we hit the post. My back explodes with pain.

I lose my grip around your throat as I slump down. I swing my arms back over the ropes to keep myself from falling any farther and continue to squeeze your core. I said I was going to put my faith in my thighs and I meant it. It’s either a crushing win here or the end of the line.

Madison Jones:
The choke is free, but not your legs. I'm still oil-checking you... Having successfully thrown you into the corner, your arms are over the ropes while continuing to squeeze me, and getting you to the ropes was my plan in case the continued back abuse failed to break your hold. With my free hand, I reach up and grab the rope and utter a word. "Ro... Rope...." The ref hears it and then orders you to break the submission hold on the threat of disqualification. I have no doubt you will hold it as long as you can to torture me, but as soon as you do, I roll out of the ring to the thinly padded cement outside.

Lazlo Kohl:
It’s slow and agonizing for both of us as we hang in the corner. You grab the rope and the ref tells me to break off the hold. I ignore him and he starts the count. I use my triceps to lift myself and force as much pressure around you as I SQUEEZE my thighs together tight. Then I let you go and keep myself standing, back against the corner as you roll under the bottom rope.

Every part of my body hurts now. It feels good to breathe deep and rest in the corner, but I can feel the adrenaline coursing through me fade as soon as I do. I already knew it was now or never — you rolling out of the ring doesn’t change that. I follow you out of the ring with a leap over the top rope but I’m not aiming *for* you, that would just invite disaster at this point. I hit the pads on the concrete right behind you and I feel my knee almost give out. I take a step forward to come up behind you stepping to the outside… then wrapping my arm around your head and going for a crazy spinning DDT on the concrete.

Madison Jones:
As I roll out of the ring, I land on my hands and knees breathing deeply, hoping for a breather. You come out to join me by jumping over the top rope, it looks like your knee almost buckles. I am looking desperately as I turn towards you while you start to reach for my head. The moment you start to wrap your arm around my neck, I know what you are aiming to do, a DDT. Before you go jumping onto the apron, I slam my forearm up between your thighs with enough force to lift you an inch or two, a low blow that truly shows both how desperate I am and fear of what such a maneuver might do to me. If repeated back and ab abuse won't stun you, maybe this will.

With us outside the ring, the ref starts up his count. "One... Two..."

Lazlo Kohl:
I get my arm over your head and start to run, but you stop me dead in my tracks with a vicious low blow. I holler out in pain, double over, and drop to my knees as I hold my balls. I hear the ref start to count but it doesn’t really register. “I guess you’re really just a dog after all.” I spit through my teeth with agonized groans. I reach behind you and grab the back of your head as I ball up a fist and send it deep into your core with both of us still on our knees. I lean into your face as I hear you gasp and I *kiss* you, DEEP. Adrenaline isn’t the only hormone keeping me “upright” it seems…

Madison Jones:
With us on our knees, you lean forward to kiss on me after calling me a dog. That punch to core is weaker than you would like in part because just nailed you testicles hard enough that it would stun any man. I do not like low blows, but we are outside of the ring and a DDT would have been too much.

Hormones are flooding through me too, my trunks are tenting every bit as much as your cock is raging in your gear. I however have a specific goal to achieve before this match ends however it does... It's the same goal I always have. I push against your chest with both hands breaking the kiss, and wrap my arm around your head with you still reeling from the low blow. Rising to my feet, I reach back to grab the rim of your jockstrap above your ass, then I go to DDT you, possibly ripping the strap in the process.

You are not logged in. - DDT

The Ref keeps counting... "Three... Four..."

Lazlo Kohl:
I feel your hard cock against mine as we kiss. And for a moment, you kiss me back. Then you push against my pecs to break it off and wrap your arm around my head and I hear my jock *tearing* as you pull it forward and fall back in a DDT on the thin padding below us. My vision flashes with stars and white spots. The ref keeps counting…

I groan as the rest of me topples over and I land on the thin mat. I will my body to move, but just breathing seems to take concentration. My chest rises and falls but my body won’t obey me to do anything more.

Madison Jones:
The DDT lands and I let out a sigh of relief as I finally have an unhindered moment with you to myself. The strap of the jock is broken, but that doesn't matter much as I rise to my feet over you flipping you on your back to at last strip you naked. The crowd on the other side of the barricade cheer as I do so while I have nothing but a smile on my face despite the aches and pains.

Tossing the scraps of your jock and shorts to the crowd with a cheer, I then reach for your shoulder and ass pulling you up and tossing you back in the ring, me crawling back in a moment later. Hoping you are still out of it, I now try and put you in position for something pleasurable. I slide alongside you with us not too far from the ropes, my good ribs laying on your arm while I pull on your free arm trying to get it behind your head. If that works, I wrap my legs around your closest thigh trying to put you in the hold that I've so lovingly come to call, The Maddy Touch.

You are not logged in. - The Maddy Touch

Lazlo Kohl:
I’m staring up at the ceiling, dazed. You strip what’s left of my shredded jock off my body and all I can do is blink. I shake my head, knowing I *have* to snap out of this…but you grab my head and send me back into the ring under the ropes. Naked. You crawl in after me and grab my arm and toss them over my head. It’d almost be a pin, but your attention on my hard cock says it’s something else. I moan…

I lift my head off the mat and kiss you as you wrap your thigh around one of mine while my cock leaks with your touch.

Madison Jones:
I'm more than eager to kiss you back. My hand on your cock, fingers coiled around it pinky to index, I start to stroke you with my thumb on your cockhead moving in a circle catching whatever precum is there. I pull from the kiss as I think you might already be close to cumming, perhaps one of those types who enjoy both the pleasure and the pain of a match to get them over the edge. "Come on Lazlo, give it up." I wince from the aches in my side while I talk, but I'm certain that if I can make you cum, this match will be mine.

Lazlo Kohl:
We kiss and you work my cock…expertly. I spurt precum as you bring me close to the point of no return. Then you pull back and tell me to give it up. I drop my head back and for a moment, I think I’m going to lose my load to you right here and now. But when my head went back, my shoulders hit the mat too. It’s enough to snap me back to reality as I’m about to lose more than my load.

“Fuck!” I yell out and with a heave, I swing my free leg up and into your rib cage that I’ve been targeting all night and I break free of the pin just before I start to cum.

Madison Jones:
You are so close to cumming now. I can see it in your eyes. This is my favorite part of a match, the point at which I make them cum, make them give up their load, and see in their eyes the shift from dominant to submissive. The win, the sex, that's all... obligatory, not that I don't enjoy it; but this is the real thing I want, a hunger to bend a person and force that seed out of them and rub it over their abs, their chest... to lick it... consume it... Lost in thought as the Ref is counting, I lean against you forehead to forehead. "Come on, give it..."

I cry out with the knee strike, there is a crack. You see the joys of the moment fade from my eyes into pain, my fingers stopping their stroking holding your cock with you at the edge. I then roll to my back releasing you with me needing to get away, my hand coming up to check the injury with the hold being broken. Self-preservation is in play now, something inside of me telling me to go for the kill in the match, I lay there on my side with the ref starting to check on me.

Lazlo Kohl:
My cock twitches as I hear you cry out in pain — you already worked me up but my instinct to stay in the game has me just as aroused it seems. I shake my head to clear the last of the fog from the DDT on the concrete and rise as the ref checks you. I move as quickly as I can, fatigue is a real factor now as I fight with my own body telling it to move even though everything hurts, and grab your head, then your backside. I’m going for a gutbuster.

Madison Jones:
You come my way reaching for me, my hand on my ribs feeling them. I've never suffered an injury to them before, I don't know if this is a crack or a break... As you get close I try to move away but you seem to be running on instinct. Lifting me, you bring me down over your knee and I let out a deep gasp as the already shallow breaths rise and empty my lungs. The crowd gasps realizing I may be hurt, but I hang there on your knee now, my hands trying to push me off you weakly.

Lazlo Kohl:
I lift and SLAM you back down on my knee. I can tell you’re really hurting now as you use my knee for support. You try to push off to get away, but you’re way too dangerous for me to take even a moment to let you recover. As you try to get away, I grab you again for another gutbuster!

Madison Jones:
Pull off your knee only to have you come and lift me into another one, a loud cry as I slide off your knee this time on my side, keeping my weight off the injured ribs. You can see it, my blue trunks tenting, along with my body slick with sweat, only remnants of the facepaint remain. My eyes look up to yours with me seeing your hard leaking cock in my vision. It's clear I'm not fighting now. I start trying to push away, one hand lingering on your boot while the crowd goes quiet over your continued assault.

Lazlo Kohl:
You fall off my knee, injured. I stand up as you reach a hand out to my boot, a sticky thread of precum dripping from my cockhead. I stand over you panting as sweat rolls down my body. I reach down and TEAR your trunks off. It only seems fair considering what you did to my jock earlier. I grab your hair and move behind you, forcing your head to follow mine so we never break eye contact.

I straddle up behind your back and lean down to whisper in your ear, “Let’s settle who’s top dog here.” And I swing my legs around your core in a crushing scissors as I swing my pit over your face for a vicious rib-crushing dragon sleeper combo.

You are not logged in. - Dragon Scissors

Madison Jones:
Reaching down to strip me, I'm not in any condition to resist at this point. The act is simple, with more tearing of the fabric than I generally like, but fair is fair.

You straddle up behind me and start to apply a leg scissor, clear fear in my eyes while you start to apply it. Pulling me into the position, my cock springs up full... hard... a little bit of my tip showing from the foreskin.

You are not logged in. You are not logged in. You are not logged in. - Madison's Cock

You hold me in position with your arm over my neck. I'm stubborn, I hate going out like this, thoughts of all the expectations I've built up flooding through my mind. I raise my free arm and refuse to literally roll over and lose. I throw an elbow back into your arm, chest, ribs... whatever I can while you start to rob me of breath in the hold.

Lazlo Kohl:
You fight back — damn! Everything is on the line. Both of us have dug deep. I wince as your elbow connects but there’s nowhere for either of us to go except together. Your naked ass rubs against my still-leaking cock and I get another rush of testosterone in my body. I WANT this. I want this perfect ass. I feel struggling on top of me. I want this win. I want to claim and I want to breed. I want YOU, Maddy.

I flex my thighs and twist them together so your rib cage is the only thing saving your lungs. I hold one of your arms with mine and FLEX as I let your other arm flail, still wincing from every blow you land on my body. I shake you in the hold, forcing your neck to go in the opposite direction from your torso as I squeeze and flex and slide against your back door.

Madison Jones:
Tightening the hold, locking me down, my struggles weaken as pain takes hold. I kick my legs, trying to bridge, but it collapses almost immediately. The Ref looks concerned and for good reason, again asking if I give up. You feel me weaken more, going limp, then I finally start tapping my hand. I give up.

Lazlo Kohl:
I hold you there for a moment, just panting as you tap. The ref signals for the bell and this marathon match is finally over. Your taps start to get frantic and I’m convinced you do mean it now — it’s the end of the fight. I loosen my arm and let your neck out from under my arm. I loosen my legs but I don’t release you from the scissors. Instead, I pull your chin back, bring my arm up your tender abs and grab hold of your sweaty pec muscle. I hold you gently but firmly. “Can you manage if this top dog claims his prize now?” I rub up and down your body gently, letting you know I acknowledge how hard we went and that you may, in fact, be injured.

Madison Jones:
I'm breathing heavily of course, beaten, and covered with sweat. Your tone is maybe shifting, you clearly want sex... you are entitled to it. I wince as I lay there considering your question. It's not really a question I think we both know, you may even take your "prize" from me even if I said no. Determined to save face, to show strength as the rising star... the man likely to be given the belt here in a month or two, I roll over to my front and start to pull myself to my hands and knees.

I stay there, position my ass your away, spreading it. I don't speak, we both know what is coming and I'm not going to drag it out. I present myself to you for your taking.

You are not logged in. You are not logged in. You are not logged in. - Maddy's Perfect Ass

Lazlo Kohl:
My cock is at full attention. Goddamn — you are about as perfect as they come. You power through like a champ and rise to all fours. The submissive arch in your back is like an irresistible landing strip. I take one knee behind you and line my cock Ho with your perfect ass. Then I mount you, just like the theme of this match has been, doggie style.

Madison Jones:
You pull into me, a deep gasp as it happens while animalistic lust floods us. Feeling you push into me inch after inch. The experience is usually more pleasurable but given the injury, I have to grit my teeth and suffer through it. I once recall my dad telling me that getting fucked with broken ribs was the most painful thing he ever endured, and it seems I'm about to get a sample of that. I feel you hooking my mouth, pulling my head back as you start to thrust, and my cock swinging between my legs while the crowd takes pictures.

Lazlo Kohl:
I pant as I push in behind you. Your beautiful body is on display for everyone — even with the features of your handsome face distorted from the smudged face paint and my finger hooking into your mouth, I know exactly why the audience lights up with flashes. And right now, you’re all mine. My cock throbs at the thought of it and I surge forward. I pound inside of you. All your attention to my cock just a few minutes ago still has me close as I work into a frenzy.

Madison Jones:
You are taking me hard... harder than I like. I am known for my passionate fucks around here, but now with likely a busted rib you show your dominance, the "top dog" indeed... at least for right now. I slump forward while you are fucking me like this, each thrust of your pelvis causing extreme pain in the ribs. I REFUSE to cry. Teeth gritting as you fuck me, your nails siding over them, I grunt. I'm having to suppress something inside of me better not talked about... but it is a Struggle. I slump forward on the canvas with your hand on my mouth, my fingers coming up to unhook it for some relief, my other hand slamming down on the canvas to help deal with the pain I'm suffering.

Lazlo Kohl:
I can feel my load building as my balls tighten to my body. For a moment I lose myself as my seed churns in my balls and I BLOW inside you. Every muscle in my body flexes from the orgasm as I shoot thick ropes deep as I find your prostate. I hold you tight for a moment as my load drains inside you before cupping under your chin and pulling you to your knees as I pull out of that perfect ass.

“Shoot for me, Maddy.” I look down at your body, noticing bruises starting to form and I lean down behind you for a kiss and a more gentle touch now that my load is spent.

Madison Jones:
Erupting inside of me, you get an unintentional moan from me for there is at least some pleasure mixed in this pain you are putting me through. Having been pulled back to my hands and knees, the cameras again flash while you pull me up higher with my full naked torso on display some precum dripping from my tip. You order me to shoot my load and my hand comes down to my cock to pull back my foreskin. I start to stroke my cock as you ease up, me breathing deeply with every painful contraction of my ribcage.

Lazlo Kohl:
I bend low now, giving your chest and neck, and back attention with gentle caresses. I nuzzle your face from side to side, not as an act of domination, but with playful affection. I rub my scruff against your face and neck, down to your shoulders… I take a knee behind you again and wrap my arm around your collar and pull your glistening body against mine, my spent cock still dripping as it rests on top of your bubble butt. The cameras flash — the audience can’t seem to get enough of you right now. I place my other hand on your hip and cup your ass as you jerk yourself. I bite my lip and whisper, “The crowd can’t seem to get enough of you — I’m not sure I can either.” Then I pull you in for another kiss.

Madison Jones:
Lowering yourself while I'm doing the deed, I feel a more tender touch and the one of your wet cock behind me. With each jerk, my ass slides against your tip, and another moan as I'm struggling through the pain to force a load out of me. You lean in for another kiss, I wince and speak, "Fuck me... some more... Gentle..." I rub my ass against your tip faster while stroking and let out a moan as I come close to spraying the canvas now.

Lazlo Kohl:
I pull you in close, wrapping you up in my arms. I’m firm as I pull your hips back and my cock slides in between your cheeks again but I’m careful to avoid your injured areas. I nuzzle your neck as you rub the tip of my cock with your ass and I feel it leaking again. “Fuck Maddy, this is perfect.” I penetrate you again. Rather than thrusting forward, I *pull* you back onto my cock, guiding you with my hands on your hips.

I moan as I feel your hole again and I can’t help but buck a bit as I feel you slide back. But I wrap my arm around your collar again to hold you up as I nuzzle and kiss you.

Madison Jones:
And so with you sliding me back onto your dick, I let out a moan as I reach my limit. Stroking my cock, a rather large load begins to spray out while the crowd cheers as you finish me off.

4... 5.... Moaning... 6... Wincing.... 7..... A cry of pain..... 8...... Fuck... 9...... ropes spray out thick and full as though I haven't shot in days. Panting, I almost slump over suppressing a cry as your arms hold to keep me from falling face-first on the canvas. I stay there now, waiting for you to be done.

Lazlo Kohl:
I FEEL you go before I see it, but once I do, it’s incredible. Your ass clamps tightly around my cock almost the moment your ass touches my stomach and you’re all the way to the base. You shudder and SPURT an incredible load onto the canvas in front of you and, even through your cries of pain as you cum despite your injuries. You shoot so much that I think you must have been holding it for days. And your hole wraps tight around my cock the whole time. My body almost seems to go into overdrive as you cum. I can feel my first load inside you as I push deeper and your body shudders in rhythm with your roping cum shots and toss my head back as I lean back on my haunches, as your orgasm has you riding my cock.

You finally finish, panting. We’re both exhausted and cum spent, but as you finish, I push forward with one last, deep thrust, and CUM inside you again as I pull you in with my arm around your chest. I fall forward as you slump and I shoot out one arm to catch us. We’re both sweating, panting, and finished. “I guess I really couldn’t get enough.” I laugh with a pant as I pull out slowly, guiding you down to the canvas gently now as I hover above you on all fours.

Madison Jones:
There is a trembling in my arms as I'm on all fours again, my chest heaving from a combination of pain, exhaustion, and passion. I merely nod as you hover over me still inside, and then pull forward off you. I do like looking so weak in front of the crowd, and not so recently after my last loss, but it is part of the world we live in. I clench up and Force myself to my feet with a heaving chest.

"Come on... let's get this checked out." Holding my busted rib, and at this point, I'm sure it is broken, I go to make my way from the ring.

Lazlo Kohl:
You get up slowly, painfully and I know you might have lost this round but it could have easily gone another way. I toss a leg over the middle rope and lift the top one over my shoulder to make it easier for you to step through. “That’s a good idea.” I see you wincing as you move and it occurs to me you were just putting on a good face for the crowd, giving them what they wanted even at the cost of your own body. I feel a twinge of guilt, but I can’t help but admire your dedication. “Come on, I’ll take you.” Then I lean in close and let your wrap an arm over my shoulders for support as we make our way out.

Published: 2022-10-31, viewed 90 times.