Forged Steel's Wrestling Journal

Entry 11

I haven't written in weeks because I've been busy and just repetition. There isn’t much interesting to talk about, and that’s the one thing I hate about working here. I would try to go to the dancing bars for practice on off nights, but all the dancing bars only play that horrendous “country” music. That and I’m heel, so there’s no guarantee I won’t end up getting stabbed a dozen times.

Between all the country music BS, the no nightlife, and fans trying to literally kill me at every turn, I feel that this territory has lost its charm. I don’t say it because I don’t want to upset Quake who runs a very good show night after night, as evidenced by how he fills every show to near capacity every night. Though I’m not saying it, many of the wrestlers can see that the doldrums is wearing on me and have said as much.

North Star and his family have started their racing venture, which I found by surprise when I saw his daughter’s name in a racing entrant list in the local newspaper. Since there really is nothing to do when Sister is busy and there’s no show to work, I decided to go watch Melody race. I was reminded that I really should watch more racing, despite not knowing much of the finer details I was captivated. I suppose my excitement was also a result of Melody running near the front the whole time.

She managed to win the race, her first win in shifter karts. As a way of congratulating her, I offered to get her lunch wherever she wanted. We had to take it back to home base though because I’m still heel. Melody obviously asked when I was going to be the good guy for a change, sometimes I wonder that myself. While I do have a lot of fun getting others angry being a villain and I’m very good at it, I feel sometimes that it’s taking years off of my career.

Of course I end up spending the most time talking with Little Dipper, and he explained the more complex details of what goes into making a kart fast. Though I didn’t understand most of it, because science was never my strongest suit, I was still enamored as he broke it all down. Though he said he’s only in it for science, I feel like he really enjoys racing for the sport, especially in the adversarial way he described his opponents.

Eventually they persuaded me to move the table and do some shoot wrestling with North. It’s easy to see even through his rust that he could have probably been a champion had he stayed in school. Early through our session I began to wish I could have him as a sparring partner, since he’s not afraid to hurt me. I run into this problem a lot with wrestling sparring partners a lot, many think that because I’m big that means I’m also fragile. Many take it too easy on me and it makes me concerned that I’m not getting the kind of workout that I desire.

The time flew between wrestling with North and talking with the family, and I made them dinner as well. Wine insisted on helping since she felt that she hadn’t done anything all day. I decided to pass on a traditional dinner, instead going with a lasagna. At dinner I talked about my time in this territory. This was where it became apparent that I wasn’t enjoying it all. While I enjoy being around Sister and the tight work, the boredom and downtime is clearly eating away at me. Shortly after dinner, the kids began to get tired so North and Wine left, telling me to not be such a stranger.

About an hour after they leave, Caramel shows up. He goes for small talk, myself not really feeling much for it. He then prods me by saying that even though we may be “friends with benefits” (as it’s called) we’re still friends. I relent and decide to open up about my dislike of the area, just how boring it all is with no nightlife to speak of unless you’re a cowboy wannabe, and even then the options are so few. I really don’t want to say it all around him because he’s native to the area and I’m afraid to offend him with my disdain for his “kind.”

Surprisingly he’s understanding, saying that the lack of things to do in downtime really eats away at him, which his why he has so many friends “like me.” He also dislikes all the wannabe “cowboy” types himself, though not as much as me, and also shares my outright disgust for how anti-gay and otherwise stuck in the past and uptight everyone here is socially. At least all the wrestlers here are fairly tolerant.

I keep going back to it, but I feel I can’t stress enough just how much the boredom is wearing on me. I relate to Caramel how I snapped and let everything boil over the other day. I had walked Sister back to her house, where Rusty was waiting for us. Them being lovers, they greet with a kiss, but apparently that’s “wrong” around here because some ass yells “Get a room, fucking dykes.”

Normally I let this go because Sister is a strong mare and I know she’s more than capable of handling herself, but something just came over me. Maybe it was all my frustration with this place, his stupid cowboy hat, or that you do not say certain things about Sister around me, but I lost it. I walked right over, swatted the hat off his head and threw him by his hair into the street. As he got up I delivered a running kick to his ribs, leaving him grabbing himself.

I then pulled him up by his hair and said I didn’t hear him the first time. Like a typical coward he screams that he was sorry. I told him he was damn right he was and dropped him flat on his face as his nose began to bloody. Seeing that Sister and Rusty were both aghast at the display, I apologized weakly and left without a further word. When I saw sister again today she tried to console me saying that he was constantly giving them shit and she’s quite honestly glad someone finally put him in his place.

As expected, Caramel is quite uneasy hearing the story but he has his arms around me saying that I should ask Quake for my release. While Caramel would hate to see me go, he says he’d hate even worse for me to end up in these medieval prisons out here because my patience ran out. I’m not so quick to agree because in-ring right here is probably the happiest I’ve been. He then asks me when was the last time I was a good guy. I don’t think I ever have been since my debut.

We then talk about me turning babyface. I say it’s not that simple, I can’t just all of a sudden lose all the heat I’ve built up, it wouldn’t make sense. He says why not at least try, at least I can work towards it. I then mention that means staying here, and this place is already wearing me down, and then awkward silence. After it lingers over us for what feels like several minutes, I eventually say that perhaps he was right in the first place. I need to go work somewhere else.

We finally come to agreement that I’ll be going somewhere else, and that Quake needs to shop me to a few promotions. I thank him for his help, which true to his form he says he didn’t help with anything. With another hug I lay back on the couch and let him choose what we’ll watch. He puts on a trivia game show, following along with it himself and knowing most of the answers. I suggest he try out for one, but he brushes it off saying that it’s much different on the set and that he gets stage fright.

After his game shows end I figure he’s going to leave for the night and start to sit up, but all of a sudden he’s in my lap. How did I forget this was coming? He starts to slide his hand into my waist, taking hold of my cock. I grin and say that I had something just a little different in mind tonight. Now it’s his turn to be surprised he looks at me to show him what I mean.

I slowly push him over onto his back, sliding his shorts off. With no underwear, he was definitely coming to me for a fuck. I slide my hands up his chest, removing his shirt, then lick down his body, kissing the tip of his cock and causing him to nearly jump in surprise. Lifting it up with one hand I open and take him all the way into my mouth.

I feel him get fully hard almost instantly, I guess he doesn’t receive much. I squeeze my tongue around his shaft as best I can manage, being quite out of practice on giving a blowjob. My large head (and mouth) means I have no problem treating his entire size, using one hand to caress his balls and another to try spread his legs for me. His hands first go to the top of my head, but slide clumsily down to my cheeks as I give a firm suck to make him squirm.

My eyes drift up his form, meeting his. He’s biting his lip and looking like he’s trying to hold back cumming already. I pop off, saying that he doesn’t need to hold back because I’m still going to get mine. My mouth returns to treating his length, but I also decide to cheat by sliding a finger into his hole. With a jump and squeak, I feel him already right on the brink. I decide to push myself all the way down and slide my tongue out to lick his sack. I’ve wanted to try doing this for years.

It’s apparently a hit because I feel him give way to his orgasm, cumming quite heavily into my mouth and down my throat. I forget how lewd and gratifying it is to feel another guy burst in my mouth. Despite it being quite a large load, he definitely hasn’t received in some time, I swallow it all, giving him a kiss right after where he surprisingly tries to lick up as much of his cream as he can.

Breaking the kiss, I tell him it’s his turn and lay back. He slides my shorts off and skips oral, kneeling over and taking the tip into his rear. He slides down to just the ring as usual and bounces to tease himself with it. I decide I’ll let him control pace for tonight, my hands resting along his sides.

He gets quicker as I start to get close, still not lasting as long with guys as I do with ladies. He then leans in and whispers, his voice dripping of lust “B-breed me… I want to feel you nut deep inside my ass.” I nod as I kiss his muzzle, pulling down on his hips. He gets even quicker as we both feel me on the brink, then I grip him firmly and hold him down, cumming deep inside his ass. He moans just as loud as before, a few small strands of his own cum leaking onto my stomach.

He slowly lifts off as I run a finger through his small deposit, licking it and then giving him a taste. As he slumps back on the couch, I sit up and do a little clean up. He looks like he wants to ask something, but feeling like I have a good idea what he wants to say, I ask if he would like to bathe with me. Curling his lips shyly, he nods and we have a bath.

Not much is said in the bath, him mostly just leaning back into me and enjoying the moment. With the both of us cleaned up and him dressed again, he leaves for the night. Having felt like I had a fairly decent day, I retire for the night.

The next day, I call Quake over and tell him everything that’s been going on. He’s very understanding, and says this territory isn’t for everyone. This means that his plans for giving me the regional championship are nixed, but he’s plenty gracious enough to shop me around to a few other promotions. Quake is even cool enough to keep between us why he’s doing this.

Sister was out managing a march so no dancing again today. I don’t mind too much because it’s a show day. Light workout, nap, wake up and get dressed. Quake arrives right on time and I’m waiting for him. With this ride being just us he says that already there’s a few promotions interested and runs them down. One is the Manehattan territory, but they want me in just a special attraction. The other to respond so quickly is Crystal Empire, and they want me as a babyface to work their program with the world champion.

Now obviously anyone would jump at the chance to work with the top wrestler, but I have to think about it. I would have literally the whole wrestling world watching me as well as I’d be working face for the first time ever. While working with the world champ doesn’t come often, it’s still a very tall order. The Manehattan shows aren’t a very enticing offer either, because they want me to work a largely immobile role, and I joke that I’d feel my body begin to atrophy after just one show. Quake laughs along and says he’ll wait to see if a few more offers come in.

We get to the show, usual routine of into the heel dressing room, stick to crosswords and watching everyone until my match comes up. I have the match and nothing out of the ordinary happens, cleanly beating a vastly improved Thunderbolt in a 15 minute match. The fans are more tame here, simply sticking to just throwing jeers and curses at me rather than objects. Back to the dressing room, undress, shower, wait for police escort after show. I give a breakdown to Quake on how Thunder’s improved and where he still needs some more work. He drops me off at home base and I tell him to find out more on the particulars of those two deals he already got for me.

With nothing much to do, I turn in for the night. Hopefully I can get out of this place sooner rather than later. I just need more things to do than loaf around the house and write. The repetition here is even hurting my ability to do these, since I’d mostly just be repeating myself.