Forged Steel's Wrestling Journal

Entry 10

It's painful to want to do something but you can't. Because of my concussion, I'm confined to my house. I cannot even go for a workout, because I have to rest. For days all I do is wake up, putter around the house, go to the doctor for a concussion panel, then putter around the house some more, then back to bed. For five days this goes on, though it feels like five years.

The panel tests are getting to me too. It also is the same thing every day, first a round of questions, next a written questionnaire, after that a hand-eye coordination test, then a reflex reaction test, then a quiz on some of the questions I was asked in the first part. All this I have to suffer for days, just because some drunk prick threw a battery at me.

Concussions have become a large cause for concern in all of sports over the past 10 years. According to the brochure I was handed, research has found that head trauma after one is already concussed can cause accelerated decay of the brain. This must be the 1000th time I've read this little thing. I don't know why I keep going back to it, perhaps just because there really isn't anything else to do.

According to the pamphlet, concussions can happen even when you don't lose consciousness. Any blow to the head is liable to cause one, which is why it says to see a doctor for the symptoms it lists. Allegedly it can manifest immediately, a few hours after, or sometimes a few days after the initial blow.

Wrestling continues to be very "cowboy" about concussions, each individual promotions make their own rules and most are lax. Many think that concussion tests are going to expose the business, but they're just old people. Not every blow to the head results in a concussion so I don't see what the problem is. Besides, it gives heels another way to get heat with that chair to the head. Quake is strict about any blow to the head, he says he's seen too many good people lose too much because they tried to tough it out.

So after six days of being a bump on a log, the doctor sends me to the gym with a nurse and has me do only cardio. At least I'm doing some sort of exercise, so I try to lighten up. I give a good hour of run/walk and stationary biking, enough that I get that solid, satisfying burn in the legs. After the cardio I go through the tests again. The doctor tells me to avoid all exercise until I see him tomorrow, so no dancing with Sister.

The next day, doctor has me go through my usual workout routine under the nurse's supervision. At the gym she scolds me for going too hard, but all the regulars set her straight, I really do go this intense every day. She backs off and it feels so good to do a full workout once again. Even their crappy gym showers feel good on my back. After I wash and get dressed, I go through the tests again. The nurse seems pleased with the results and leaves with the same instructions as before, nothing more unless the doctor gives the OK.

After I get back to home base, the doctor says things are looking good and I can finally go back to my normal day routine for tomorrow but to be sure to check back with him for a test. I tell Sister that we can resume dance tomorrow and she's overjoyed. I don't know whether to be happy or scared of this.

I finally get to feel normal for the first time in several days. I wake up, have breakfast, and then get to workout. Although I go by myself and it feels lonely, I'm not bothered because it's so relieving to feel like myself again. I get back to home base a couple hours later where Sister is waiting for me for our dance lessons, or what I thought would be lessons.

She has decided to give me a pop quiz on everything she's taught me so far. I try to worm my way out of it by saying that I haven't been able to practice in over a week. Sister is not so easily dissuaded, saying that I also had a week to think on what she's told me during our lessons, especially that I need to lead. I think to try and argue but for every bit as strong as I am physically, Sister is more strong in her resolve.

So I take her hands and not even 30 seconds in the scolding begins. She keeps ridiculing me for being so passive. Apparently being a walking slab of meat means I'm obligated to lead. That means I have to focus on the lady while also moving my legs in controlled, precise rotations. I normally only get this close to someone before I slam them to the mat. Or she's Zecora and we're about to get a lot closer... That was the thought that kept me from quitting in embarrassment. I'm not passive. I'm not supposed to be.

By the same token however, I feel I cannot lead being so rusty and sparsely trained to begin with. The longer I put off taking control, the more Sister nags, yells and screams at me. I feel my frustration building and starting to boil over, and then I notice her stop scolding me and her having a huge smile.

As my annoyance built up, I had unknowingly grabbed her tightly and was forcing her along in the direction I wanted to go. She squeals excitedly "That's it, Kovie" I hate when she calls me that and she knows it. "That's it right there, you have to take over because everything I just shouted at you is going to be said to you by your partner if you don't. She may not say it, or even whisper it, but you'll see her disappointment and disgust with you in her body language and in her eyes."

It all rings familiar of what Gryphus taught me about calling the match during training. I'm large and in charge. I know how to make the match work for me. I have to take over the match from the beginning. Don't even ask the guy to let me call it, just start when we lock up at the bell. I have to have this mentality on the dance floor.

By now Sister sees the clock and panics, it's already evening and she is now late to get back to make dinner for her and Rusty. I also forgot about my doctor's appointment, or I would have if Sister didn't nearly steamroll him running out the door. His house call isn't what surprises me the most, that would be who was waiting behind him, Caramel.

I invite them both in, Caramel says he was a bit worried about me seeing the doctor wait for so long outside my house as well as him not seeing me out and about for the past week. I tell him about the concussion and what brought it on, naturally it spooks him a bit. I tell him to sit in the kitchen for a bit while I go through the tests.

The panel starts the same as it has for the past week, rapid fire questions about myself and everything I know. It gets a bit more peculiar as the doctor continues his questions while I do the written form and even during the coordination and reaction tests. After he's satisfied, he lets me go to the kitchen to take a break.

I offer a drink to Caramel, and he declines. I don't think I've ever seen him drink. He starts talking about what's been happening on the apple groves, and I'm always oddly fascinated by it all. Farm work seems so backbreaking, which is funny to think about since my work can be literally backbreaking. It gives me a great appreciation of how Wineberry and North Star can do it every day for over 10 years now.

During our next break in conversation, the doctor starts asking me what the fourth, fifth, and six questions he asked me were. Now is the final part of the test, as he grills me to repeat back what he asked me over half an hour ago. The doctor then stops after a few minutes and says that I'm clear to return to wrestling. I struggle to contain my excitement at the news as he peels back the bandage. Before the doctor leaves he says to come by his office tomorrow after my workout and he'll remove the stitches. I now have a clean bill of health and can go back to causing riots again.

Obviously Caramel had to ask about why I had my bell rung, so I told him about being hit by a battery in the head and that I set the guy straight. He was a little upset that I did but he said he could understand why I went and thumped him. It dawns on him that there was a basketball game tonight and asks if I wanted to watch. I can't pass up an opportunity, so I ask him to put it on.

As the game plays, it becomes obvious Caramel was asking just to be nice but didn't know much about the game, so I take the chance to explain it to him. I start with positions, fouls, and simple things such as shot-and-one. By the second half he's got a good grasp so I go into some plays such as iso, horns, and into strategy such as when to switch defensively, when to go to zone and how to help yourself if mismatched. All the talk of the game makes me miss it and I keep a mental note to stay after at the gym and play in a game with some of the regulars.

After the game, I let him pick what to watch and am surprised that he chooses a classical music concert. Classical has always been a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. As he sits, eventually I notice that he's thinking of something, but wasn't sure if he should say it. I prod him about it but he refuses, so I leave it be.

As time goes on, I see it bothering him even more so I again ask. Caramel refuses again, but this time I tell him to tell me. He eventually says that he doesn't like women, at least as more than friends. That's fine with me, I've never had any problem with someone being gay. He then says "I mean you, I really like you."

This however catches me by surprise, and I sit silently in a bit of shock. This appears to be the wrong reaction as he looks away and weakly mutters an apology for bothering me. Caramel gasps sharply, nearly jumping out of his skin, as I slide over and put a hand on his shoulder. I ask him why he didn't just say something sooner. "Well, I saw you with Starlight and you mentioned a zebra back in your other town so I was certain you weren't into stallions."

Caramel has claimed down significantly by now, so I tell him to ask me what he really means. "Would you mind being more than friends?" I brush even this away by saying that depends on how much more. We've both put it out in the open, he doesn't need to be delicate or evasive with the question. What actually comes does genuinely surprise me.

"Would you want to be sex friends?"

This was all that he wanted, a body to admire. It's a very pleasant surprise for me because this way I don't have to break him when eventually do leave town. I do bring this up anyway, that as a wrestler I will have to leave and work somewhere else, not knowing when I'll come back. He says that it's fine by him, so I accept his offer.

Caramel now looks around the room a bit and weakly asks "So, when would you want to start?" It's been so long, so I turn off the TV and ask him how about now? He only nods, his cheeks burning a bright red and slides over to me. I was legitimately starting to think that my hands would be the only action I'd get out here, but now I have someone who only lives a few blocks away! This territory isn't so bad after all.

He sits on my lap and faces me, reaching for my shirt at first but stops. "May I undress you?" So polite, this means that I'm dominant again, I should probably get used to it with anyone but Zecora. I nod and help him by taking my shirt off with my own hands. His palms slide over my chest as he reaches for my pants but I stop him. I want him to undress first.

He hesitates, then slides back and lifts his shirt off and leans back in, but that's not enough. He only looks down, but slowly undoes the button on his pants and slides them off too. He wasn't wearing anything under, so now he's completely bare before me, his stallionhood already quite aroused. Now I let him, and he delicately opens my pants and slides them off, my underwear following right after.

As my erection is freed and slaps onto my stomach, he takes a bit of a gasp. He knew I had to be big, but no this much so. I of course remind him that he's no slouch either on size. He starts to lean in, bringing his muzzle close to mine but stops himself again. Before he can even get the question out, I tell him to go ahead and do it. With another submissive nod, he leans in and presses his mouth onto mine, a hot kiss which he gives a surprising bit of tongue to.

His leaning in presses our lengths together and I feel him shiver as they do. Wanting to tease him, I buck my hips slightly, making him jump suddenly and moan louder than he likely intended. As he pulls off from the kiss, I start to push his head down. Getting the idea, he slides back down my body, kneeling before me as he takes hold. His mouth opens and his tongue brushes along the underside of my cock, his heat now making me twitch.

Sensing he's already doing a good job he brushes his tongue over the length once more, but this time flicking it around the tip. Not one to leave well enough alone, he then pulls it towards him and slides his mouth down the length, making me gasp now. As he takes more of me into his mouth, his hands slide down the base and take hold of my balls. With his expert treatment, I have no problems reaching full arousal.

I shudder to say but as his head slides down and then back up my cock rhythmically, he looks almost cute as his eyes lock onto mine. Now he knows he has me under his spell, his head bobbing faster with a hand again at the base until he just stops. His mouth comes off with a pop, instead sliding down further to run his tongue over my balls while his hands squeeze and slide along my cock.

I try to compliment him on it but I'm so lost in pleasure that all I manage is a lewd grunt. He only giggles, getting a devilish idea as he sucks his finger and brushes it along my hole, the sensation making me nearly jump. Despite the shock, I still stay there, powerless in his grasp. I think this is what they mean when they say that the sub is often in control. I see his grin widen for an instant.

He gives my tip another lick as I feel his finger ease in. It's been so long since I've felt the sensation, it almost feeling foreign. He pushes his finger all the way in perfectly timed with his mouth taking me in further. He seems to be trying to get me to burst already, but I won't until I've had my fun. After fingering me for a moment he looks back up at me and I tell him it's my turn to enjoy him.

He looks around, but I'm always prepared, producing him with a rubber and lube. He slides the former onto me, then uses the latter to ready himself, asking how I want him, while he takes a position on his hands and knees. If he was wanting to guide me that way, he'll have to try harder next time, because I push him over onto his back to face me, brushing my wrapped up cock over his bare one while he gets it slick. I want him to know what he's gotten himself into.

His eyes go between my cock and me and he guides my length to his hole, as my left hand pushes onto his chest and my right on top of his head. He prods himself with my tip but I take control, easing the head in and causing him to gasp with a faint moan. Taking the opportunity, I pull his head up as I lean mine down, our mouths coming together again. I note that he really likes his tongue play as I feel his snaking around in my mouth again.

Holding the kiss I pop the tip in and out to tease him before pushing and slowly sliding in to the medial ring. My left hand has instinctively slid down his chest and taken hold of his erection, my filling him making it shiver wildly. As I start to fuck him, I stroke my hand along his cock in time with my hips. When our kiss breaks, he gives a lick of my muzzle.

I'm not sure why, but I never seem to last as long with other stallions as I do with mares. Maybe it's that I just don't do it that often, or that mares more often want to be in control, but I feel myself pushing the edge soon and it forces me to slow down. His rear legs wrap around me as he gets out his first coherent words in a while with a heavy whisper of “Fuck me...”

I fulfill his desire, pushing from tip to ring much quicker than before. When I hit the ring, I feel him try to push back, like he's trying to take all of me. I can't have that, there needs to be something to look forward to in later encounters. To prevent that, I stop short and let his hips force him the rest of the way to my ring with my inward thrusts. I see that needy look in his eyes, begging me to let him have all of me, but I remain strict about not going all the way.

A moment later I see in his eyes that he's given up on it. I figure I can at least throw him a bone, stopping one last time at the medial ring and whispering into his ear that I'm going to finish on his face. My words light up his eyes again, him nodding in lewd excitement. I push up to halfway one last time before pulling out and sliding the condom off.

With my cock over his head, he takes hold and sits up as he strokes quickly and firmly, giving a lick to the tip every so often to try and finish me. His work is rewarded as I feel myself well up again, this time not holding back as I shoot my seed, several hot bursts onto his exposed face and into his open mouth. Of course he swallows it, I knew I'd found a good one.

As I slump onto the couch beside him, he then looks down at his own aching cock, then back up at me. I agree to help him finish, but no oral. He nods and sits in my lap, my still hard cock sliding between his ass and over his hole. He starts to stroke himself quickly. I lend my hands, stroking quickly and firmly myself while also using his current position to lick and nibble along his neck. He doesn't take long, quickly finishing on his chest and stomach with a few strands cumming with enough power to hit his chin and lips.

He sighs one last heavy sigh, leaning back into me as he's fully spent. He's gotten more out of me for a first fuck than almost everyone else has, and I let him know. He thanks me and asks when we might do it all again. I don't say when, because I prefer things to be spontaneous, but also my busy life means that I can't know for sure. I also tell him this as well, and then we get cleaned up.

He was polite enough to want to shower separately, which I accommodated. With the both of us clean (or as clean as you can get after a dirty fuck) and dressed, he kisses my cheek and leaves, saying that he'll see me again soon enough. I look forward to it, go to my fridge for a beer and then call it a day. Work starts up again tomorrow, and I want to pick up right where I left off.