Warning: This story is very sexually explicit, but is also very well written.

Copyright Notice:  These stories are copyrighted and may not be reprinted, copied, distributed, or altered without the express written consent of the author. Thank you.

The name is James. Not Jim, and certainly not Jimmy. Fact is, anyone calling me Jimmy will cop a quick reprimand, and, if they persist, something a good deal more serious. I’m very conscious of my image – and being James is an important part of it. People never pick me as a wrestler. I reckon it’s because I’m too good looking. They expect wrestlers, even at high school or college, to look like beaten up pugs. Well, I don’t look like a beaten up pug – far from it. I have what they call classic good looks. Blond hair of moderate length, with just the right amount of wave to it. Clear skin, deep blue eyes, almost aristocratic nose, perfect teeth (always wear a mouthguard on the mat). And the body’s not too bad either! 5’10", 170 pounds, smooth skin, no fat, well shaped ass (not exactly a bubble butt, but then I wouldn’t want one – a bubble butt just invites other guys to fantasise about fucking you) and, I have to say, great legs.

I usually win most of my bouts, because I train hard and am highly motivated. Because it’s part of my image, I play it strictly by the rules. Referees love me. I’m fairly popular in the team – winners usually are – but I tend to keep my distance. I don’t socialise with the guys all that much. The reason for that will become clear.

I have no trouble getting chicks. Fact is, sometimes I have to fight them off. Apart from the good looks, they like me because I’ve got good manners, can actually conduct a conversation on something other than wrestling or football, and I’m a good mover on the dance floor. Oh, and there is one other thing – I have a big dick. It’s funny how news of something like that gets around!

So yeah, I do fuck pussy from time to time – it’s somewhere to put my dick when it needs exercise, and it’s good for my image.

But I have to say, pussy is not where the real action is. The real action, I have to say, is very different. Fact is, part of the pleasure of maintaining the boy-next-door image is that it is a mask. Even my persona on the wrestling mat is a very careful construction and not the real me.

You see, there is a dark side to this James. A very dark side. Behind the mask there is one very evil fucker. I’m into rough trade. And my tastes are very specific. I like beating up guys who think they are tough and then fucking them. Right at the moment I’m very turned on by kickboxers. I like their lean frames and mean looking faces. I like the tatts they usually sport. I like the skinhead look some of them go in for. I like their tight asses. Shit, I’m getting a hard-on right now just describing them.

And there’s one other important consideration. I reckon a good wrestler can always beat a kickboxer. Like they say in the grappling mags, any fight on the street will always end up going to the ground, and there the kickboxer is helpless. So I look at these tough looking dudes and think – you poor dumb dickheads, you are ripe for the picking.

Sometimes I drop in on a gym where I know these kickboxers work out. I like seeing them do their stuff. There is this particular guy, Danny, whom I’ve noticed checking me out when he thinks I’m not looking. Danny is probably an inch taller than me, but a bit skinnier. He’s got tatts on both arms and on one shoulder. His hair is darker than mine, and longer, usually swept back into a short ponytail. I have a bit of a thing about ponytails. He wears a rather bored expression, never smiles, and chews a lot of gum. But he’s quite a good kickboxer, with excellent leg extension. The other guys seem to respect him. I feel that Danny would be a worthy opponent.

I get to talk to him one day. Well, it’s me doing the talking – Danny just gives the occasional grunt. I tell him I do a bit of wrestling. ‘I’d really like the opportunity of working out with a guy with your skills, if you know what I mean.’ Danny doesn’t seem to know what I mean, but he doesn’t terminate the conversation. I ramble on for a while before finally popping the question: ‘Say, would you like to drop over my place sometime – I’ve got a bit of a private gym there – how about it?’

Danny gives me a long hard look, like he can’t make me out. He even stops chewing his gum. Then quite unexpectedly he says quietly: ‘You got you own pad, huh?’

‘Sure.’

Danny is still looking at me hard. Then he nods slowly. ‘Okay.’

We arrange to meet the next day.

Afterwards I wonder –so what’s in it for him? Does he think this is just an opportunity to kick some butt? Or is curious about me and maybe even want to be buddies? But I’m already planning in my own mind how I’ll take care of Danny. And what I intend putting him through. For the next twenty-four hours it’s like I’ve got a permanent hard-on.

And there he is on my doorstep, with the same poker-faced expression. He’s wearing an old blue work singlet and cruddy jeans with dirty sneakers, no socks. He’s carrying an old canvas bag.

‘Glad you could make it,’ I tell him, ushering him into the hall.

Danny comes in and looks around, taking in the well furnished apartment. ‘You’re a bit of a silvertail, huh?’

‘I wouldn’t say that.’ There’s an awkward pause. ‘The gym is this way.’ I lead the way to the spacious room which is where I work out in private. The floor is covered with wrestling mats. A few sets of weights against one wall. Another wall has floor length mirrors. Otherwise the room is bare, except for a few posters on the wall of wrestling greats – Frank Gotch, Ed ‘Strangler’ Lewis, Dan Gable.

‘Make yourself at home,’ I grin, already starting to take off my sweats. I strip down to black trunks and black pro wrestling boots, no socks. There’s already a noticeable bulge in my crotch, and I casually stroke it, just to draw Danny’s attention to it.

I can see that Danny is just a little disconcerted by my eagerness to get down to business, but he’s trying not to show it. He takes off his singlet, kicks off his sneakers and eases out of his jeans, under which he is wearing a very frayed jockstrap. Ooh yes, I’m thinking, I sure want to get my hands on you, punk! I stand there watching as he fishes around in his bag, first of all producing a pair of black foot protectors which he slips on, and then a flashy looking pair of yellow boxing trunks. When he climbs into these I see that they feature a black snake which curls around from his ass, circumnavigating the hip, with the snake’s head, tongue extended, rearing up from the crotch. Infantile but kinda cute.

‘Okay,’ says Danny, leaning back against the wall. ‘So you want me to show you some kicks huh?’

‘Shit no,’ I laugh. ‘I don’t need a fuckin’ ballet lesson. I got you here you to do you over. I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy you, pussyboy.’

Because I’m smiling as I say this, Danny, though obviously taken aback by my sudden use of bad language, still kinda thinks I must be joking.

‘C’mon foot fairy,’ I taunt him, the first hint of a snarl entering my voice, ‘show me what ya got!’ And I shape up to him in wrestler stance, hands out as if beckoning him.

Danny takes a deep breath. ‘Okay pal, you asked for it.’ And he springs forward on the balls of his feet, testing the mat and circling me. The expression on his face is grim and – it would seem – totally confident. All the better, I tell myself: he’s in for one helluva surprise.

He snakes out his left leg and catches me behind the right knee. There’s a bit of a sting to it, but I don’t wince. Yep, I think, he’ll try a few more of those to get himself going and theoretically soften me up before he brings in the heavy artillery.

Sure enough as we circle each other out comes the left leg again aiming for the same sensitive spot, except that this time I’m ready for it and it barely registers.

‘C’mon dickhead,’ I chuckle. ‘You can do better than that!’

That gets to him, and he launches his right leg in a front kick aimed at my gut. But he’s not quite quick enough and I am able to grab his foot by the ankle. And there he is, hopping on one leg, trying to wrench his captured foot free. All the time I’m giving him the hard stare: I can see the sudden anxiety in his eyes as he realises his predicament. I give his ankle a nasty twist and he stumbles, which gives me the opportunity to step forward and trip him, so that he falls backward to the mat, with me coming down to one knee, still gripping his right ankle. I start to work it, bending it the way it’s not meant to go. Danny’s slightly anxious look has become one of real concern. He tries to kick me away with his other leg, but I hang on.

And yeah, the dark side of James is starting to click in now. Seeing that he is going to make another desperate bid to kick free, I quickly turn him over on to his stomach. I now have my knee pressing down on the back of his thigh as I resume working the ankle. ‘Consider your options, asshole,’ I snarl as I put the screws on.

And Danny utters his first squeal of protest. Nice! My cock responds immediately. I’ve got his ankle now all served up ready for submission. ‘Give it up, punk!’ And I go for broke.

‘Yeah!!’ Danny screams. ‘Hey lay off man!’

‘Say it proper,’ I insist, and bend the ankle again.

‘I give! I give!’

I can’t resist giving it one more vicious twist before releasing him and getting to my feet. Danny curls up holding his ankle. I look down at him with some interest and then, without warning, stomp his injured ankle once, twice, three times.

Oh boy, does that make Danny scream! ‘You fuckin’ bastard!’ he sobs.

‘C’mon now it’s not as bad as all that,’ I tell him, suddenly turning back into mister nice guy and helping him to his feet. ‘Sorry, buddy, if I got a bit carried away there. I’m sure you’ll do better this time. I just got lucky.’

Danny doesn’t know how to take this, but I give him a bit of time to get his act together. Meanwhile I’m doing some stretching exercises as if I still haven’t warmed up. ‘Okay let’s go,’ I grin at him when he’s more or less ready, ‘haven’t even got a sweat up yet’.

Danny’s ankle is giving him plenty trouble, and he’s hobbling. But he still manages to get another kick in to the back of my leg. Well, that’s all I need. I respond by sinking the boot into his ankle. He yelps and goes down to one knee. I’m on him like a flash, hoisting him to his feet and slamming him back into the wall. And immediately I start laying into his abs – punch after punch, for several minutes. He tries to push me off, but I just keep wading in. I stop only when my fists are starting to feel a bit sore. Then a not too gentle knee to the balls sits him on his butt.

‘Git up,’ I tell him, but Danny, who is nursing his privates, doesn’t seem to be hearing me. ‘I said, git up!’ and my boot gives him a reminder nudge to the base of his balls.

That’s the encouragement he needs: still trying to get his breath back from the ab pounding, he struggles to his feet, ready for me to scoop him up by the neck and crotch, banging him above my head into the ceiling and then dropping him, stomach downwards, onto my knee, crunch, before rolling him onto the mat. Immediately I apply a bodyscissors so that my knees are digging into his already worked-over abs. I lean back, intending to enjoy myself, measuring the pressure.

Danny grunts and groans and tries to lever my legs apart. But I’ve got strong legs and I’m fucking good with the scissors. As Danny is now finding out.

‘How’s that feel, fucker?’

‘Fuck you!’ growls Danny.

I grind my heels into his gut as a reprimand, and that extracts a satisfactory yelp of pain. Now he desperately starts to hammer my thigh with his fist in order to force me to release the scissors. ‘Gimme that fuckin’ arm,’ I snarl as I reach out to grab it. There’s a brief struggle, but after digging my heels in again to his abs I get hold of his fist and slowly drag his arm towards me, until I have it in an armbar. There’s no way now he’s gonna break the hold so I’m in a position to lean back and enjoy myself.

Realising that he has no room to manouver, Danny grunts: ‘Okay, okay, I give.’

‘Haven’t asked you yet, dickhead,’ and I move the scissors to just under his ribcage, while twisting his index finger back against the joint. ‘Think we might see about cracking a rib first.’

‘Aw fuck you!!’ screams Danny, seriously concerned about my intentions.

‘Oh no sweetheart,’ I reply with a snigger. ‘The boot’s on the other fucking foot. Now say it nice. Say I give sir.’

Danny seems to be giving this proposition his consideration. I put all the formidable power of my legs into a final, nasty squeeze, my knees crushing his ribcage. ‘I give – sir!’ pants Danny and I can hear the edge of panic in his voice. The excitement in my crotch is now intense.

Very slowly I release his arm and then the scissors, and get to my feet.

And that’s when Danny surprises me. I’m not too sure whether it’s having to call me sir, or the threat implied in my saying that the boot is on the other fucking foot, but he grabs me by the legs, topples me to the mat and climbs aboard with every intention of belting shit out of me. And he scores a few hits before I can take appropriate action. It’s an attack born of panic: he is in my guard and doesn’t realise that I can apply that good old bodyscissors again, this time from underneath.

His eyes open wide as my legs resume their punishment. I fend off his last few punches before I bring him sideways to the mat again. I give him hell for a minute or so, taking no notice of his grunts of protest. I don’t bother to demand a submission, but when I reckon I’ve taken the starch out of him, I give up the hold, get to my feet and start kneedropping his midsection. Someone’s gonna be fucking sore tomorrow!

When I’m satisfied that Danny boy has been rendered inoperative for a time, I leave off and go across to the mirror to check out my face after his attack, and discover that there is a graze on my cheek, which might possibly turn into a bruise. I am not pleased.

I return my attention to the offender, who is now on his hands and knees, whimpering pitifully and trying to get some breath into his lungs. ‘You’ve left your fucking mark on me, motherfucker,’ I spit at him, grabbing him by the waistband of his trunks. ‘You’re gonna pay for that.’

I pull him to his feet, getting a nice view of his ass with his trunks jammed into his crease, then take him by both ears and direct a headbutt at just above his left eyebrow. Headbutts are a new interest for me and I’m still experimenting. I deliver three in a row to the same spot. I’m pleased to see that they have caused an abrasion, with a hint of blood rising to the surface. Something to work on! And I’m pleased, too, that when I let go of his ears, he slumps forward onto his knees, groggy from the attack.

I kick him in the butt and send him sprawling forward on his face. Then I aim my boot deep into his asscrack and kick him again, keeping the toe of my boot there, making the point that he’s not only literally getting his ass kicked, but that I might have other ideas for that part of his anatomy.

But that’s for later. ‘C’mon kid, we still got a long way to go,’ I tell him, grabbing him by his ponytail and yanking him to his feet. ‘I knew a ponytail must have some fuckin’ use.’ And I start dragging him round the room, pulling him along backwards, forcing his head down over my shoulder with the grip I have on his ponytail. Having done a circuit, I drop him down onto my knee in a backbreaker, one hand still pulling his head back with the ponytail, the other hand grabbing his balls.

‘Now give it up, dickhead, before I do some serious damage,’ I spit at him.

‘I give!’ he sobs.

‘Say I give, Master!’ And I give his hair another yank.

‘I give – Master!’ he just manages to get out. ‘You fuckin’ bastard!’ he adds.

‘Looks like I’ll have to teach you some respect.’ I drop him to the mat on his back, and kneel down across his face, and then very carefully rub the laces of my boot to and fro over his eyes and nose. When I get to my feet I see that I have further irritated the bruise over his eye, bringing some blood to the surface. Nice!

‘Gonna get into the serious stuff now, boy. Now get up!’ But Danny’s still nursing his wounds. ‘I said get up fucker!’ And I deliver an admonishing kick to the side.

Very slowly Danny obeys. ‘Okay, you’ve done me like a dinner man,’ he croaks, trying to control the sobs. ‘But that’s enough, please.’

I’m smiling. ‘Not nearly enough, Danny. Like I said – the fun’s only just beginning. For me that is.’

Even as I speak I have moved behind him and have placed my right forearm under his chin, in preparation for the sleeper. As I position my left arm over his forehead and cinch the hold with my right hand grasping my left bicep, Danny starts to struggle – which is just as well, as I like my victim to put up a fight. There’s a gurgling sound coming from his mouth as I bring him down to his knees. He’s getting desperate now as he realises what is happening. But each time he tries to writhe free I give his head a savage twist sideways. ‘You’re going out, fucker,’ I breathe in his ear, ‘but nice and slow’.

The gurgle has become a breathy sob as his world starts to cave in. There’s a trail of dribble running down his chin. ‘You’re all mine now, Danny,’ I whisper as I give the sleeper the final twist and he slips into unconsciousness, his arms going limp, eyes half closing.

Even when I’m satisfied he’s gone under I’m reluctant to let him go. There’s something warm and cosy about a sleeper, cradling your spent opponent in your arms.

Finally I lay him out, face down. I kneel down and put my hand down his trunks, reaching through to take a handful of balls, while my thumb is poised over his hole. And now a moan and a movement of his body indicate he’s starting to come to. So the first thing he registers is my hand squeezing his balls and my thumb forcing its way into his ass. His ass is as tight as a nun’s cunt – just the way I like it.

For a moment, having realised his predicament, he tries to raise himself by his arms. I give his balls a nasty twist which extracts a high-pitched whimper. ‘I’ve gotcha by the balls, bitch. You try to make a move and I’ll rip ’em off. I kid you not.’

He concedes the point and sags back to the mat. My thumb is working his shithole, my fingers now taking hold of the base of his cock. And it’s not long before his body starts to get the message and his limp cock starts to toughen up. He’s whimpering pathetically now as he realises the true nature of his predicament. Almost against his will his pelvis starts to move in response to my intimate assault on his crotch.

When I’m satisfied with the progress of his cock I withdraw my hand and take hold of his trunks. ‘Time to get down to business, boy.’ And I peel them off. Then I roll him over onto his back. ‘Now let me show you what you’re up against.’ And I slowly ease my trunks down from the waist until my big prong finally springs free. Eight inches and thick, rock hard, ready to rumble!

‘Oh no, man – ’ Danny whines.

‘Yeah, you piece of shit,’ I chuckle, rubbing my cock just to emphasise the point. The piss slit is damp with pre-cum. I kneel down, straddling his chest, and point my loaded weapon at his face. The glistening knob is only inches away from his mouth. ‘You’re gonna suck on my cock.’

Danny gives a shudder. ‘No way!’

Only one thing for it – I slam my fist into the bruise above his eye. He gives a yelp of surprise as the blood spurts. Yeah, blood! I even surprise myself with the ferocity of that punch and my cock jumps appreciatively.

‘Do I have to tell you again?’ I lift his head up off the mat pushing it in the direction of my cock. ‘Now lick my meat!’ The blood is dribbling down onto my cock. It looks kinda pretty.

Danny licks. Tentatively at first. Then more luxuriantly. Maybe it’s not so bad he seems to be thinking. His tongue caresses my piss slit, tasting the pre-cum. That really tickles my fancy. ‘Now lick up that blood of yours.’ The boy licks. Maybe he’s scared of being biffed again. Finally I tell him to suck my cock. He’s not so keen on the idea, but I force my rod into his mouth. He gags – like they all do, because big is big – but I hold it there firmly till he relaxes his throat muscles and learns to accommodate my manhood. Danny is on a steep learning curve.

After I’ve broken him in as a cocksucker it’s time to escalate the action. I pull my cock out of his mouth, give him a friendly slap or two across the face, and turn him over. My hand goes in to his asscrack and starts working his hole again. ‘You been fucked before, bitch?’

‘Shit no,’ he groans. But he’s obviously resigned to his fate. Either that or that last punch busting him open has made clear the inevitability of his situation.

I give a dirty laugh. ‘Well this is going to hurt – and that’s a promise.’

My dick is still wet with Danny’s saliva, so I’m not giving him the benefit of any lube. I spread his neat, tight buns – kickboxers always have very muscle-toned asses – and line up my eager rod, nudging his furry little previously unfucked hole.

‘I’ll get you for this,’ he mutters, more to himself than me.

‘No cuntface, I’m getting you.’ And I start pushing in.

There’s a gasp of astonishment as he feels the force of my loaded weapon knocking on the backdoor. The sphincter muscles are resisting like crazy. I hold it there for a moment and then, after a long pause which might suggest I’m having second thoughts, suddenly grab him by the waist and apply maximum thrust. He gives a bloodcurdling scream as his sphincter muscles cave in to the pressure. I’m in! Now it’s just a matter of continuing the journey deep into his body. Yeah! He’s mine! All mine – this tight ass, gripping my cock and turning me on.

‘Oh no man, no!!!’ Danny protests.

Well that’s music to my ears, and when, at last, I’m in to the hilt, I hold it there, registering the triumph of having taken possession.

‘How does that feel that, huh?’ I demand. ‘Tell me how that fuckin’ feels!!’

‘My ass! My ass!!’ he groans. ‘You’re splitting me apart!’

‘Is that so?’ I can’t keep the snigger out of my voice. ‘Then feel this –’

And I pull back, this time holding him by the shoulders, before ramming it back in, full throttle.

‘Argghhhhh!!!!!!’

Wow – now that’s what I call a scream worthy of a horror movie! It’s always reassuring to know that my tool is having the desired effect. Now that I’ve busted his cherry, it’s a matter of establishing a rhythm, working my cock in and out, making his ass respect its master. But I have to be careful not to take myself too close to the edge, because I have plenty more in store for Dannyboy before dropping a load down his chute.

Five minutes see Danny starting to – well, not get used to it, but at least giving in to the inevitability of being fucked long and hard. So it’s time to vary the action.

‘Now get up, bitch – and if your ass loses my cock I’ll be giving you a second black eye.’

He takes the point, and as he slowly gets to his feet I match his movement, my dick still firmly plugged in. Now I cockwalk him to the mirror, shoving his face hard against the glass. I start working my rod again in his tight ass, while looking over his shoulder and checking the pain registering on his face. I’m now in a position to nibble the back of his neck. Tomorrow he’s gonna be sporting a necklace of lovebites.

I’m also keeping an eye on Danny’s cock. The piston action up his ass is rubbing his tubesteak against the glass, lubricated by the sweat now dripping off his hot body. I figure that, like me, Danny is being affected by the image of our bodies pressed against the glass. Not only has he never been fucked before, but he has never seen himself being fucked.

I reach around and take his nipples between my fingers. They quickly spring to attention. I start twisting them. And I’m still chewing on his neck. I can feel now that his ass is starting to loosen up. And yeah – his cock is definitely on the rise. Judging by the incoherent sounds coming from his mouth, Danny’s distress seems to be on the increase, but the cause is not just the pain I’m inflicting but the realisation that his body is responding to it.

So it’s time for the next stage. I wrap my hand around his cock, checking its growth. ‘Getting a taste for it, huh? Have to see about that.’ I pull my cock out suddenly and without warning: there’s a nice slurpy sound followed by a yelp of surprise from Danny.

I drag him away from the mirror and force him down on to the mat, on his back. I lift his legs up over my shoulders and reposition my cock in his now well greased asscrack. ‘Coming in, ready or not,’ and I ram my donger in, in one quick movement, surging in to the hilt. Danny’s scream comes on cue, because plunging in from this angle I’ve got extra purchase. ‘Thought you’d enjoy that.’ Now, when he opens his eyes, he has to look at me, which gives me added satisfaction. I can also check myself out in the mirror – oh yeah, there I am, good-looking James, blue eyes alight, pleasuring himself at the expense of a kickboxer, who is rolled up on the mat, ass up in the air, his feet pushed back framing his face.

I start working his ass again, but varying the tempo, and from time to time giving it a twist to take him by surprise and scrape the sides. I’m hot now and I’m aware of growling animal sounds coming from somewhere deep in my throat. And in a funny way I can tell that Danny is turned on by the dark side of James which is now in the ascendant. I grab his cock – yeah, it’s rock hard. He can’t move, can’t escape: he’s totally helpless, totally passive in a way that it is quite new to him, and even if he is hating it, his cock is having one helluva good time.

‘You’re gonna shoot when I tell you, boy!’ I spit at him.

Too late – clearly my hand on his manhood has already sent him toppling over the edge, because with a spasm which seizes his whole body and a childlike sob Danny is suddenly erupting into my hand – a great load of the stuff, rich and aromatic.

And just as his spasms start to subside I start to come. A ferocious roar fills the air as I pump the precious juice deep into his ass. Danny’s screaming too as I seem to be ruthlessly penetrating to the very center of his being. Between us we’re making a lot of noise!

I keep moving in his well fucked ass for some time before I call it a day. Finally I pull out, rub some of his own cum into his face and chest, and slowly get to my feet. Danny is lying there moaning. I place my foot on his chest. ‘Lick my boot, pussyboy.’

And Danny licks, almost appreciatively you’d have to say. First one boot then the other. Then I take hold of his ponytail again and pull him to his feet. He’s a bit shaky on his feet and he holds onto me. And that’s when I take him in my arms and kiss him. He’s shocked, I think, but hasn’t the strength to resist. And it’s the full French kiss, my tongue in his mouth finding it’s way around.

Then just as suddenly I push him away. ‘Now fuck off.’

Danny shakes his head disbelievingly and mumbles something I can’t hear.

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ I demand.

‘I would never have picked you,’ he says as he climbs into his jockstrap. ‘But you’re a fuckin’ monster, man.’

That’s the kind of testimonial I appreciate! I put my hand on my cock which is rising to the occasion again. Danny has put his singlet on and is struggling to get into his dirty jeans. I’m getting excited again just watching. Then his sneakers. He picks up his bag and looks around for his trunks.

‘I’m keeping those,’ I tell him.

‘Oh fuck, man, they’re the only ones I got – ’ he whines.

You heard me!’ That shuts him up. ‘Now come here.’

Looking distinctly concerned he shuffles up to me.

‘Now turn around.’

‘Oh no, you’re not going –’

‘Shut up!!’

For a moment I think he’s going to burst into tears but he obeys. I force his jeans down to his thighs. ‘Just want to check out this ass again. After all this is my piece of territory now, wouldn’t you say, boy?’

There’s no answer.

I take hold of those buns, digging my fingers in. ‘Answer me, boy!’

‘Yessir,’ he just manages to get out.

‘You came before I told you. There’s a penalty for that.’ Then I’m onto him, holding him round the waist while I shove my impatient donger into his wet hole. Oh it’s is nice ’n juicy now, filled to the brim with my premium quality juice, so my eight inches slide in as smooth as a knife into butter. And I have to say Dannyboy is taking it like a lamb. It’s not long before I’m making a second deposit, holding him so tight he can scarcely breathe while my pelvis unleashes its fury on his battered ass. And I can tell my nibbling on his neck is getting to him too.

When I’ve finished I tuck my dick back into my trunks and give his ass a friendly pat. ‘Now you really can fuck off.’

Before he goes I make it clear that he is to ring me in two days time for instructions. And if he fails to do so I shall drop in on his gym and publicly humiliate him in front of his kickboxing buddies.

On the doorstep I have a final word or two for him. Taking hold of his tits through his singlet I make him look at me. ‘When you get home you’ll be wondering whether this was all a fuckin’ dream. But that sore ass will be there to remind you. And you’ll jerk off just thinking about it. You know something, Danny? Life’s never gonna be the same for you.’

I steer him out the door and watch him shuffle down the street. An expert could tell, just by the way he’s walking, or trying to walk, a bit like a cowboy who’s just got off his horse, that this is a guy who has just been fucked very hard, and whose ass is brimful of hot juice.

Maybe, I’m already thinking, I’ll drop in on Danny’s gym anyway, because maybe there’s another kickboxer there I might feel tempted to introduce to the dark side of James.

But right now it’s time for nice guy James to take over again. I pick up my phone and dial.

‘Hi Mom!’

Email your comments to Mean Rick.

(c) 2003. Join WrestleMen.com. Over 7000 wrestlers, 1600 visitors a day!