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"Making his pro wrestling debut tonight, weighing 225 pounds, here is - Randy Towle!!"

Randy took a deep breath, then stepped through the curtain and walked up the aisle to the ring, trying to at least look confident. The small crowd cheered enthusiastically, and Randy put on a half hearted smile. In the back of his mind, he still thought this was a big mistake, but he really needed the money ever since the construction company he worked for folded. His kids were depending on him. He still didn’t know just what the promoter saw in him - he was 5 foot 11 inches, dark blond hair that, while still thick and full around the back and sides, was starting to thin out on top a bit, and a matching full mustache. He was just an ordinary man soon nearing middle age. He pulled himself through the ring ropes and felt his muscles tense. Yeah, there was a layer of muscle underneath the extra pounds of cushioning on his body - after all, he was a construction worker at one point. But that was weeks ago, and he was desperate.

Larry, the promoter of this small pro wrestling circuit, had overheard him talking to a friend of his at lunch, about how tight the money was and how he needed to find a way to feed his kids. Larry had offered him a good sum of money to try wrestling. He got a few lessons, learned a few basics, and Larry seemed eager to put him out right away. Randy was hesitant, but ultimately desperation overcame his doubt. He had no illusions about tonight. It was highly unlikely he would win. The payoff would be highest if he won, but if he at least made it to the 15 minute time limit, the purse for a draw was good enough. All he had to do was not submit or be counted out - if he gave up, he would forfeit half the money he would have received even for a loss, and he couldn’t afford that. Randy again tried to smile and acknowledge the audience as he waited for his opponent to come out. This would be tough, but he was tough too and would at least give his foe a good fight.

"And his opponent, weighing in at 290 pounds, here is - the Roughrider, Jack Henson!"

Randy saw his opponent emerge from the other curtain, and his heart sank. Jack was big - 2 or 3 inches taller and very husky. He was wearing black trunks with a red star on each side and black boots, a black leather biker’s jacket, and a short, almost manicured looking layer of fur covered his chest and stomach. Underneath that trimmed full beard it looked like he was sneering at Randy, and those dark eyes seemed to burn right through him. For a moment fear gripped Randy and he considered just giving it all up, just walking away right now and finding some other way to get the money he needed.

Then something in Jack’s features seemed to break, and his eyes sparkled at Randy. He flashed a huge friendly grin, raised his arms and tossed his head back to acknowledge the cheering crowd. Jack’s full head of thick, dark hair bounced lightly as he looked to both sides of him, acknowledging his fans. Randy relaxed a little - Larry was right after all, it was just an act. As Jack walked up to the ring, Randy noticed he seemed very relaxed and at ease. Larry had assured him that these wrestlers were trained not to hurt anyone too badly - after all, nobody would want to wrestle them again, right? As Jack stepped through the ropes, he glanced over at Randy, smiled, gave a friendly nod and flashed a quick thumbs up. Randy leaned back in the corner and felt his confidence returning. He’d give these people a good show at least. It would be just a fun scrap between two friends, and he’s been in a few friendly scuffles before.

Jack put on his "heel face", stepped through the curtain and looked across at the opponent Larry and set up for him. He wasn’t ready to believe what Larry had promised him, but as he looked out at Randy, he suddenly realized that Larry really had come through for him after all. Jack had been in the business for a long time, and it was getting harder to find competition that would take him on. He had earned a reputation for being particularly nasty and brutal, and only the experienced guys would take him on now. Instead of being able to pound down his opposition, he had to actually fight for his wins now, and it wasn’t as much fun. But now, after all these months of taking on these tough musclemen and highly talented pretty boys, Larry had somehow found the opponent he had wanted so badly these last few years. There he was, a regular man a bit older than he was, somewhat pale skin holding together several extra excess pounds of flab, packed into those white trunks he had seen in Larry’s office, the one with a light blue lightning bolt on one side. His light dusting of brown fuzzy fur across his soft chest contrasted with his lighter hair (thinning a bit, but still plenty to grab on to).

Jack then looked directly into Randy’s eye’s and saw the fear rising in him. He recognized the face of panic - if Randy bolted now, Jack new he would never get another opportunity like this. Thinking quickly, he changed tactics. He let the grim facade drop and put on his "face" face. He smiled at Randy, and instantly knew this was working. He started to work the crowd as he approached the ring, keeping his demeanor light and enthusiastic. The crowd had a pretty good idea was coming and was cheering enthusiastically. Out of the corner of his eye he say Randy relaxing. As he reached the ring and pulled himself in, he flashed him another smile and gave a quick little thumbs up before removing his jacket.

Randy was the perfect jobber meat he had always wanted. As Randy leaned back into his corner, Jack saw the flesh on his chest and gut quiver slightly. Randy’s nipples were slightly perky, and his whole chest was covered by a light, fuzzy dusting of light brown chest hair, from his pecs to his navel and below the trunkline. His face was soft and somewhat round, his mustache just slightly bushy but still trim, his face that of your average dad, a macho wannabe from some building or construction crew. He glanced down to the timekeeper’s table and saw Larry sitting there with a grin of triumph on his face. Larry winked at him and mouthed. "just for you". Jack struggled to keep his face intact. He could tell already that this man had no real training, and that he could finish this match in seconds if he wanted to. Instead, he was finally getting his dream - a match where he didn’t have to worry about any comebacks or run-ins. He could have his way, at his leisure.

Nicholas the referee called the two men together, and Jack tried to put on his most relaxed pose. He tried to stay casual and upbeat as he looked over Randy again, noticing in particular that soft gut of his, and the way the flesh on his pecs, chest and stomach quivered just slightly even when he walked. Jack wondered what it would feel like to grab the front of those trunks with one hand and pummel his gut with the other. The ref quickly went through his routine, though at one point when he looked at Jack, he winked. Jack smiled - the final piece was in place. Apparently Larry had taken care of this too.

Randy looked somewhat hesitant, but held a look somewhat between determination and desperation in his eyes. As the ref was winding up, Jack said to Randy, "Good luck, man. Hey, don’t worry about it - we’ll give the crowd and the cameras a good show. I’ll take care of you."

A slight smile spread on Randy’s lips. "Uh, thanks. I appreciate it. Means a lot to me".

Jack grinned and said "Sure thing, buddy." just as the referee stepped back and called for the bell. As it rang, he casually stuck out his hand. "You OK? All set, then?"

Randy took his hand, nodded and said "You got it."

Jack said "Good.", then yanked Randy’s hand forward and drove his knee deep within Randy’s exposed gut. A wave of pure pleasure passed through Jack, and he had to remind himself where he was and get to business. He could always indulge himself in the tapes afterwards.

As Randy climbed into the ring to wait for his opponent, Larry sat back in his chair and smiled to himself. Opportunities like this only came once or twice in a lifetime, and he thanked his lucky stars he was able to capitalize on this little "gift" he was given. Roughrider Jack was a big draw for the organization, and a good friend of his to boot. Larry had wanted to find a way to give Jack a good demolition match somehow, but wasn’t able to figure out how until he overheard this man talking about how desperate he was to get money for his kids. One look and Larry knew he had to at least try to seize this opportunity.

Fortunately, Randy was willing to listen. Larry arranged for him to come down to the gym that night to try out a few moves, see if he had the feel. Larry got there early and told some of the workers his plan. They agreed, and when Randy stepped through the door, he apparently never suspected the set up. Several of the guys worked with Roy, showed him a few moves, and worked themselves so that Randy ended looking like he actually had some talent. A few lessons later, along with a good cash advance, and Larry had Randy sign a contract for 8 matches. It was too perfect, and Larry had a feeling that if tonight went like he thought it would, the video sales alone would keep his organization going for a long time.

Jack had stepped through the ropes now, and looked down at Larry. Larry smiled and said softly, "Just for you". The huge grin of gratitude that crossed Jack’s face at that moment was gratitude enough, but still he hoped that the match would come out well on the video - everything had gone so perfectly so far, it might be too much to expect. It was at that moment, while Larry had a clear view of Randy’s face, that Jack pulled him forward and drove the knee home. Randy’s mouth exploded open in a combination of pain and shock, and his eyes bugged forward almost comically. The look was pure agony, and although he was doubled over, his head was still held up, and Larry knew the camera had just gotten the perfect view of the ultimate sneak attack. That one look would sell enough copies to make him quite comfortable. As Jack grabbed the hair on the back of Randy’s head and started to charge toward the corner, Larry let his worries float away as he settled back and watched the destruction unfold.

As the ref motioned them forward, Randy looked at the big man in front of him, trying to evaluate some semblance of a strategy. He noticed that the same layer of fur on his chest also covered his arms and legs in a very trim, rugged fashion. Jack was definitely strong, but not a bodybuilder at least. There was quite a bit of muscle there, but only some minimal definition, kind of like some of the construction guys he hung out with. His stomach had a few extra pounds on it - not many, but maybe enough to make it a target.

the referee finished up and stepped back. Jack smiled at Randy again and said "Good luck, man. Don’t worry about it - we’ll give the crowd and the cameras a good show. I’ll take care of you." At this, Randy relaxed a bit and offered his thanks. This would be tough, and he probably wouldn’t win, but at least he’d get his money out of this if he just hung in there tonight. Randy dimly was aware of the bell ringing as he briefly considered his next match - maybe next time he’d draw someone closer to his size, have a decent chance for the winning purse. His contract was for 8 matches, so he had to make sure he could stick with this - he couldn’t risk losing the money.

Jack offered his hand and Randy took it. Randy brought his attention back to the match and tried to think about strategy again, but suddenly he felt a tug on his arm and the next thing he knew a huge jolt of pain burst into his midsection and felt his breath rush out of his lungs. Stunned, Randy’s brain tried to comprehend what just happened, but couldn’t quite seem to connect. He felt a hand on the back of his head and suddenly he was moving forward. Randy saw the turnbuckle coming closer and tried to pull his thoughts together through the pain in his gut. He only partly succeeded, and before Randy could organize a conscious thought, his head rammed directly into the top turnbuckle with tremendous force.

Searing white pain lashed through Randy’s head, and he felt himself stagger. He’d never taken a hit that hard in training, Before Randy could shake the spots from his eyes, he felt a powerful force land on his back, driving him to this hands and knees. He shook his head, and a moment later he felt Jack’s boot driving firmly into his head, knocking him flat. A moment later he was being stomped all over his head, back, shoulders and arms. With each blow pain coursed through his body, and he his mind started to detach from the situation. This didn’t make sense, his training was never like this, and he had never felt this much pain before. His brain simply couldn’t relate and wouldn’t work.

Randy felt a force lifting him up by his head, and a moment later he was upright and staring uncomprehendingly at Jack. For a moment he stood there, and an evil grin crossed Jack’s face. Randy tried to get his body to react somehow, but it still wasn’t responding. a moment later Jack picked him up and slammed him hard into the mat. A loud groan passed through Randy’s lips as once again the air was forced from his lungs. He stared up and tried to focus his eyes as the huge form of Jack Henson hovered over him, flexing his biceps for the crowd. Randy tried to pull himself together, felt one of his legs move briefly, but that was all he could do. Then suddenly, before he knew what was happening, that large biceps looming above him suddenly dropped straight down and drove itself into Randy’s chest. Randy grunted loudly and felt his limbs convulse once. A dull haze started settling into Randy’s mind even as he dimly registered being picked up again by the big man. The haze never really went away over the course of the next 8 minutes, though to Randy it soon seemed like hours.

Even before hitting Randy with that devastating sneak attack into his vulnerable gut, Jack had a plan for how to run this match. This was a rare opportunity he had been given, and he needed to make sure he could take full advantage of it. After savoring the feeling of his knee deep within Randy’s gut, Jack grabbed Randy by the back of his head and quickly ran toward the corner, driving his head into the turnbuckle with all the force he could muster. As Randy staggered out of the corner blindly, Jack raised both of his arms, jumped up, and drove a double axe-handle into Randy’s back.

Jack knew he had to keep up the attack, get Randy completely dazed and disoriented as quickly as possible. If he wanted to enjoy himself later in the match, he had to make sure this jobber wasn’t going to be able to put up any resistance. Randy landed on his hands and knees, and Jack circled around. He caught a glimpse of the grimace on Randy’s face and smiled to himself. He lifted his leg and drove a savage blow into the side of Randy’s head. That finally knocked him flat, and Jack quickly pummeled his opponent with a series of brutal stomps to his upper body and head, watching his body jerk each time he connected.

Now came the first test. With most of the wrestlers he’d faced the last few years, it would take a lot more than a few stomps to wear someone out, but hopefully this was not going to be the case. He reached down, grabbed Randy’s head in both hands and lifted him to his feet. He looked into Randy’s eyes for a moment and saw only a dull, glassy stare. Good - this should work out just fine, but he needed to be sure He scooped Randy up and slammed him hard into the mat. He heard Nicholas, the referee, give a small gasp and looked over at him. He could tell Nicholas was struggling to keep up his facade as referee. As he stared at Nicholas, he saw him mouth, "God, do it".

Jack smiled again and positioned himself next to his fallen foe. He struck a double biceps pose and took in the cheers of the crowd. This would be the final test - he held the pose for a few seconds, long enough for most competitors to regain their wits and get out of the way. Even Nicholas seemed a little confused by what he was doing, but Jack had to be sure. In his peripheral vision he could just see Randy’s head moving just a little, but everything else just laid there flat. He knew he was in the right position, so after several seconds he dropped one arm to his side, then drove the other elbow directly down onto Randy’s chest. Randy never moved, and he connected squarely. He saw Randy’s flesh ripple as he rocked from the force of the blow. Jack paused a moment with his elbow upon Randy’s chest, feeling the laborious breathing of Randy’s lungs. This hadn’t taken long at all, and after just a little more solid abuse he could start having some real fun. As he leaned over to pick Randy up again, he whispered into his ear, "Man, this is going to be fun".

Jack picked Randy up off the mat and held the back of his head firmly as he walked toward the ropes, making sure the camera had a good clear view of Randy’s dazed face and slack jaw. He then draped Randy’s neck over the top rope and pressed down, choking him. Randy’s arms flailed weekly, mostly out of pure instinct. Nicholas came over and started a five count, but counted rather slowly. Jack could tell that Nick really didn’t want to have to call Jack off of any moves, but he had to at least pretend to do his job. After four, Jack raised his hands and heard Randy gasp in a few breaths of air. Immediately he dropped his huge hands onto Randy’s head and pressed again, starting another count from Nick. Looking at Nicholas, Jack saw the excitement in his eyes that his voice and posture didn’t betray. While Jack didn’t know Nicholas personally, Jack had worked several shows with Nicholas and he was always kind to him before and afterwards. Maybe there was a way to let Nicholas partake in a small portion of this beating, in his own way.

As Nicholas reached four again, Jack let go of Randy’s head, grabbed the top rope, pushed forward, then yanked it back violently. Randy flew back into the middle of the ring and landed on his back with a solid thump, He grunted loudly and rolled to one side, holding his throat with one hand while his feet kicked at the mat feebly. He stared Nicholas down, and Nick started to admonish him. Jack sneered, then softly said, "Get ready - go with me on this". Nick was a pro - he never flinched, and only Jack saw the subtle flick of his head in agreement.

Jack walked over to Randy and picked him up again, enjoying the agonizing grimace on his face. He scooped him up and slammed him down near the ropes in close proximity of the camera. Jack maneuvered himself so that he was standing near Randy’s head. Nicholas was facing him, but his view of Randy was mostly obstructed by Jacks large frame. Jack then started arguing with the referee, but not before placing his large black boot across Randy’s throat. He pressed carefully - just enough to restrict breathing but not cause any serious damage, yet. Nick caught on immediately and started shouting back at Jack, completely ignoring the thrashing form down by his feet. The crowd was going wild, but they both tuned them out and continued their argument. They kept this posturing going for over 15 seconds, working themselves into a near frenzy of shouts and eventually even shoving at each other. Jack let Nick give him the final shove and "stumbled" backward a step. Jack let Nick give him a few final admonishments while the camera spent some time on Randy’s beet red face as he gasped in lungsfulls of air for his oxygen starved muscles. Both hands grasped at his throat, and his eyes were squeezed shut in pain. Eventually one hand reached feebly for the ropes, and Jack realized it was time to get back to work.

Jack bent down and casually helped Randy up a little bit. As Randy reached the second rope, Jack draped his arms and neck over the ropes and patted his back gently, as if letting him take a short rest there. The camera had a clear shot of Randy’s face, his eyes gazing out uncomprehendingly. Jack ran his fingers casually through Randy’s hair once, then grabbed the top rope with both hands. With a shout, he leaped upwards and landed with his butt squarely across Randy’s upper back, driving his throat savagely into the rope. He bounced up and down lightly a few times, enjoying the weak flailing of Randy’s arms and the slight gurgling sound coming from his throat.

Nicholas came over and started verbally lashing at Jack, yelling at him to get off. Jack ignored him, planted his feet on the mat for moment to give Randy a quick breath, then jumped up even higher and crashed down on Randy’s upper back again. Nick started his tirade again, and Jack noticed this time that Nick was purposely holding off the count as long as he could get away with it. Eventually Nick started a slow count, and before he got to five Jack slowly pulled himself off of Roy into a full standing position. then he had an idea - a move he rarely got to do anymore with the current competition. He grabbed Randy by the hair and one arm, and lifted him up gently, just enough to drape him over the top rope again. he felt no resistance out of Randy - good. He held one hand up to the referee to show he was backing off, and with the other hand Randy a few gentle pats and rubbed his hand lightly on Randy’s upper back. Randy never flinched, so Jack new he was ready. He sneered, shoved Nicholas back a step, then ran for the opposite rope. He rebounded, got as much momentum as he could, then launched himself over Randy’s body. He placed his hands on Randy’s head to pivot his body around, then held on firmly as he dropped to the ring floor. The full weight of his massive body compressed R, he let go of Randy’s head just as his feet touched the ground in a perfect landing. Roy’s neck whipped back violently and his whole body launched itself all the way into the center of the ring. Randy landed on his upper back, and his feet continued their momentum over Randy’s head, flipping Randy over onto his stomach. Roy’s body turned slightly to one side and his arms instinctively crossed his upper chest and neck. His feet kicked at the mat in rapid jerks and his body convulsed a few times before. Soon the convulsions slowed down to just an occasional subtle twitch. Jack grabbed the rope and hauled himself in, completely tuning out the audience at this point. He was in his own world now, and it was time to finally have his real fun.

He strolled over to Randy’s prone form grabbed the sides of his head with both hands and slowly, gently lifted him up to his feet. Jack noticed with pleasure the subtle swaying motion of Randy’s body as he held his head in his firm grasp. Randy’s eyes were seemed unable to focus, and Jack thought about his pacing. He needed to make sure Randy would feel not just pain, but fear as well, so he better not do too much too fast. Gazing into Randy’s eyes, he let his hands slide down Randy’s face in a smooth, caressing manner. He repeated this motion three times, at which point he noticed a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. At that point, he grabbed Randy firmly underneath his jaw with his left hand and held his right hand upward, clenched in a mighty fist. That seemed to get a reaction from the crowd, but Jack was no longer paying attention to them. More importantly, he saw Randy’s eyes widen slightly and stare at his fist. His arms came up weakly, palms forward and moving side to side as in an appeal to hold off. At this, Jack grinned, drew back his fist (noticing with even more pleasure the sudden shock that appeared in Randy’s face at that moment), then swung his arm in a mighty arc, connecting his fist into the side of Randy’s head. Randy fell onto his back hard, then rolled onto his side clutching his head and kicking his feet to a quick beat on the mat.

Randy tried to focus his eyes. Everything seemed a blur, and for a moment he couldn’t figure out why, couldn’t remember where he was. He felt someone helping him to his feet, holding his head upright. Randy saw this massive form before him and his brain started to reconnect. Jack had been choking him on the rope, then there was a pause, then something happened, he wasn’t sure what, and he must have phased out for a moment. He thought felt some sort of gentle sensation on the sides of his face, but he wasn’t sure. As his eyes slowly focused, he started to realize the position he was in. Winning was not an option. Winning was never an option. His only hope was for Jack to just pin him and be done with it. He felt Jack’s hand grab him firmly under his chin and saw his right hand go up to his face, fist clenched, hovering around. Randy tried to raise his hands, both in protest and for protection, but they barely moved. Surely the referee would catch him before he threw such a blatant punch, maybe even disqualify him. Jack then pulled his fist all the way back, and Randy knew he was winding up for a huge blow. He started to panic - where was the referee, he had to stop this. Randy tried desperately to get his body to respond, but it was no use. Jack swung his arm in a great arc and Randy could only watch helplessly as that huge fist came around and connected with the side of his head. He felt his head snap back and his body collapse backward. He hit the mat hard on his upper back and neck, and he clutched his head desperately in pain. Maybe now the referee would call of the match? He had thought he was tough, but this man was sweeping the floor with him. Now he just wanted it to end, to make the pain stop.

Randy was dimly aware that Jack was shouting at him. He wasn’t sure what Jack was yelling about, didn’t really care. He tried to crawl away, tried to reach for the ropes for some support and to escape the onslaught for a while. As his fingers brushed against one of the ropes, he felt himself being manhandled up to his feet. He was turned around so his back was against the ropes, and he felt Jack’s enormous mass pressing him against the ropes, preventing him from moving. One of Jack’s hands pushed Randy’s head back, holding him firmly in place. Then he felt a massive blow land on his upper chest, Randy grunted loudly and felt his body start to collapse. His arms, draped outside of the ropes, kept him from falling to the mat, but a moment later Jack was propping him up again. Jack pressed his sweaty, hairy chest against Randy’s body and grabbed his left wrist firmly. He heard Jack say, "Get ready man, cause this is gonna hurt". At that moment, Jack stepped backwards and whipped Randy across the ring with savage force. Suddenly Randy’s mind began to panic and everything started becoming clear. He knew this man really could hurt him if he wanted to. As he reached the opposite rope, he tried to stop himself from what he knew was coming, but his body wouldn’t respond. As he rebounded off of the rope, he saw Jack’s outstretched arm coming straight toward him. Randy desperately tried to get his body to react, but it was too late. He felt a desperate plea of "No!" start to escape his lips, and then a moment later he ran right into that mighty arm, which had plenty of forward momentum of its own. It felt as if someone had just separated his head from his body - the world seemed to spin around, and he felt himself crash solidly to the mat, compounding his pain even further. He felt his eyes start to well up momentarily, and he tried to understand why he had agreed to this at all.

Disoriented as he was, he was barely even aware of Jacks body pressing down on him. As he heard the referee slap the mat, he mentally gave a sigh of relief. It was over, he could crawl out of here, get his money and try to forget this night.

A sharp pain in his head jolted him out of his thoughts. The world shifted again, and he tried to get his bearings. He was sitting up now, and now being helped to his feet. His eyes focused, and it was Jack. Jack was helping support him now that it was over, maybe out of respect. In the back of his mind, Randy registered the referee’s presence, still watching intently. He turned his attention back to Jack and saw him smile an evil grin. Then it registered - the match wasn’t over, Jack must have pulled him up from the pin. With that thought, Jack’s boot came up and slammed into Randy’s stomach. As Randy doubled over from the force of the blow, and a wave of despair washed over him, layered on top of the now ever present agony wracking his body. Why was this happening? When would it end?

Jack looked down at his smaller opponent, barely able to suppress his excitement now. He had lost his last match to some punk upstart kid who had been too fast for him to get a hold of, and he wanted to release all that frustration right now on this target. "Get up!" he yelled. "Get up, I’m not done with you yet! Get the hell up!" He watched as Randy stretched his arm out, trying to crawl away. As his arms reached the ropes, Jack bent down and picked Randy up roughly. He leaned Randy against the ropes and pushed his head way back, exposing his chest. Jack lifted his other arm and dropped his forearm heavily onto Randy’s chest, simultaneously releasing his other hand. There was a satisfying smack of flesh connecting to flesh, and Jack watched as Randy’s pecs quivered from the force of the blow. The force of the blow even caused Randy’s fleshy stomach to bounce lightly, and Jack made a mental note to get back to that later on.

Randy started to collapse, his arms barely holding himself up on the top rope. Jack lifted him fully upright. He leaned in, and whispered "Get ready man, cause this is gonna hurt". He wasn’t sure if Randy would register it, but he could always hope. He grabbed Randy’s wrist and whipped him firmly across the ring to the opposite ropes. He took a step back, and as Randy’s body turned and hit the opposing ropes. Jack raised his right arm to shoulder height and prepared to launch himself forward. It was then that he noticed the wild look in Randy’s eyes. He had heard the threat! With savage glee, Jack ran forward and caught Randy with a devastating clothesline. He thought he might have Randy shout a protest right before he connected, but that was probably in his head. All his weight and momentum combined with Randy’s own momentum caused Randy to spin head over heels in midair, but Jack didn’t see most of it as his own forward motion had taken him another step or two forward. A moment later, he heard Randy hit the mat with a solid thump behind him.

Jack looked down on Randy’s prone form lying face down on the mat, his legs slightly drawn inward. Impressive - that must have been some clothesline to cause him to flip completely in the air and land that way. He hoped the camera got a really good shot of that. Jack knelt down, rolled Randy onto his back without any resistance, and covered his shoulders for the pin. Nicholas actually paused for a moment, than got down to count the pin. He slapped the mat once and paused, looking at Jack. There seemed to be a trace of disappointment in Nick’s eyes. He slapped the mat again, raised his hand for the count of three. Before his hand came down again though, Jack grabbed Randy by the back of his head and pulled him up into a semi-sitting position. He noted with some pleasure that Randy’s arms seemed to just hang limp by his sides. He looked at Nick, grinned, and said "Gotcha!". Nicholas shook his head, rolled his eyes and gave a little smirk back. Jack slowly began to help Randy to his feet again. That was good - he even managed to put one over on Nick for a moment. Poor guy thought Jack was going to end his fun too early. Looking at Randy’s dazed face, he realized he could say the same thing about this rag doll too.

He held Randy upright, waiting for him to come around a bit. A moment later he kicked Randy in the stomach, the toe of his boot driving deep into his soft midsection. Randy doubled over, and Jack quickly wrapped one arm around his neck while grabbing Randy’s white trunks with the other. He paused for a moment, then with a huge grunt lifted Randy up into a suplex. Randy hung suspended in the air for a moment, then came crashing down hard to the mat with Jack. Randy groaned loudly, arched his back in pain, then flopped down to the mat again, still grimacing from the fall. Jack stood up, measured his opponent, then dropped his fist right onto Randy’s head. Randy let out a short scream, spasmed violently and sat up, clutching his head in pain. A moment later he collapsed to his side, still holding his head while his feet kicked at the mat.

Jack pushed himself up to a kneeling position and looked down at Randy’s body. All this punishment he was dishing out was certainly fun, but if he were to clamp on any sort of major submission hold now, Randy would almost certainly give in and it would all be over. He thought for a moment while Randy’s feet finally came to a stop. This might work once, but he’d need some help. As he reached over to grab Randy’s body, he softly called for Nick’s attention.

"I may need some help on this one - don’t let the match end, OK?" Nick nodded slightly in agreement as Jack finished hauling Randy to his feet. He held Randy up for a moment, spun him around so faced away from Jack, then in one move crouched down and lifted Randy up across his shoulders into a torture rack. With one hand he held Randy by his upper thigh (he wanted to reach higher, but this was a live audience so he had to make do), and with his other he clamped Randy firmly by the head, his hand just covering Randy’s mouth and cranking down on his neck.

Randy’s arms clutched desperately at Jack’s huge forearms, and he could feel Randy’s body feebly thrashing. He could actually feel Randy screaming through his hand, and the sensation sent shivers up Jack’s spine. Nicholas was right there, asking Randy if he wanted to keep going. Jack grinned as he adjusted the weight on his shoulders and clamped down harder. Normally Nick would ask if the wrestler wanted to give up. Randy was trying to nod his head and scream "I give", one of his arms flailing wildly for attention, but officially it looked like Randy wasn’t giving up. Jack adjusted his balance, then jumped up into the air and yanked down as he landed, arching Randy’s spine even further. He walked a few paces around the ring to let the camera and the audience get a good view from all angles, jumped once more, then casually shrugged Randy behind him off his shoulders. Randy fell to them mat with a sickening thump. Randy rolled onto his side and rocked back and forth lightly, moaning "O God, O God" over and over again.

Jack knew this couldn’t go on forever - there was a time limit on this match, unfortunately, and Randy could potentially regain enough composure to signal a stop to the match that even Nick couldn’t ignore. With his boot Jack rolled Randy onto his back. He looked down at his fallen prey’s chest, heaving as it gasped for air. He stared at that soft, hairy stomach for a few moments, watching it rise and fall. It was time to work his favorite section - tonight, Randy’s gut was going to pay the price.

Once again Jack helped Randy to his feet while pushing him back into the ropes. He whipped him quickly across the ring, and when he rebounded off the ropes Jack took two quick steps forward and raised his leg, driving his knee deep into Randy’s gut. Randy flipped over Jack’s leg and landed on the mat, clutching desperately at his damaged midsection. Jack followed up quickly by hauling him into the corner, draping his arms over the top ropes, then started driving his shoulder repeatedly in to Randy’s stomach. With each thrust he could feel the wind rushing out of Randy’s lungs, hear his feeble grunts of pain. After five massive thrusts, Randy started to sag in the corner. Jack backed off and with one hand under Randy’s chin lifted him back into a fully upright position. He then grabbed the front of Randy’s white trunks and pulled them toward him. He licked his lips and smiled as he took a quick peek down his packed trunks. A shame he couldn’t have fun with that package, but he had to keep this match on the level. Of course, with all the fun he was having, he had nothing to complain about.

He drew back his right hand, clenched his fist, and with a mighty blow drove his fist as fast and as far into Randy’s gut as he could. the force of the impact rippled up and back down Randy’s chest as his flesh bounced slightly in rhythm with the blow. Randy screamed in pain and started to double over, but his arms were still caught around the top ropes. Jack quickly pulled his trunks toward him again, and Randy’s body arched backward, his gut once more fully exposed and quivering slightly, almost as in anticipation. Jack leveled one more mighty blow, and this time Randy unhooked one of his arms. He clutched at his stomach and alternately gasped and howled in pain.

Jack wasted no time though and immediately whipped Randy into the opposite corner. Before Randy’s back connected with the turnbuckle, Jack was already in motion, charging at Randy’s vulnerable body. He ducked down, and at full speed drove his shoulder as deep into Randy’s midsection as he could. Randy tried to scream in pain, but could only gasp desperately for air.

Jack pulled Randy into he center of the ring and braced himself. Grabbing Randy firmly by the neck and his upper thigh, he squatted down slightly and with a mighty heave lifted Randy up to shoulder height. Then with another push, he raised Randy’s body up overhead in a gorilla press. He held Randy up there for nearly 3 full seconds, then suddenly pulled both of his hands away, letting Randy’s body fall like a sack of potatoes. At the same time, Jack knelt down onto one knee. The timing was perfect - Randy’ fell face first directly downward toward the mat, and his stomach landed directly on Jack’s outstretched leg.

Randy bounced off of Jack’s leg, let out an enormous shout of pain, and landed on the mat, his arms instinctively clutching his battered stomach, his body curled into a fetal position and twitching in a fast, spastic pulse. His face was a contortion of pure agony, and his moans sent a ripple of ecstasy through Jack’s body - he couldn’t take much more of this. Just thinking about watching the tape of this match was getting him excited. It was nearly time to finish him off. He went for a casual pin, just resting his stomach over Randy's upper chest and face, but once again picked him up by his hair on the count of two. Jack shook his head in denial and cradled Randy’s face against his own chest, caressing it gently as he reveled in the feeling of that unresisting dead weight against his body. He wasn’t sure if Randy was even aware of his surroundings anymore. He hoped so - despite all this pain and punishment, he really wanted Randy to be aware of the final devastation he had planned for him.

As Randy’s back connected with the hard turnbuckle, another jolt of pain ran up his spine. Oddly enough, he was starting to become acclimated to the constant pain, and was actually able to register the freight train that was Jack’s massive form charging in at him. Randy had already given up any pretense of even attempting to make a comeback, but he instinctively thought about trying to escape this savage onslaught. As usual though it was no use, and Jack’s huge shoulders rammed directly into Randy’s exposed midsection. For a moment he felt as if he had just been snapped in half as another intense burst of pain shot though his already battered stomach and all the air rushed out of his burning lungs. He tried to scream, but all that came out was a strangled gargle. He collapsed to the mat, desperately clutching at what was left of his abdominal area and trying to breathe again.

He felt Jack’s rough hands picking him up off the mat, and before he knew it his perspective of the ring suddenly shifted. He realized that jack had just lifted him up over his head, and was even now attempting to press him higher. Randy looked down at the mat - it seemed so far away. Another wave of fear washed over him - he knew Jack intended to drop or slam him to the mat, and it was going to hurt. Desperate, he tried to beg for mercy, though all he could manage was a few shakes of his head and a feeble "No...". Then the world dropped from underneath him and with a sickening lurch he felt himself falling. His mind managed to register that he at least wasn’t being slammed down forcefully, and he tried to brace himself for the impact. At least Jack wasn’t targeting his gut anymore.

He never even saw Jack’s knee. Suddenly Randy felt himself folded in half, and the few abdominal muscles Randy had no longer offered any protection after their recent beating the last few minutes. With a horrible scream Randy bounced off of Jack’s upturned knee and flopped to the mat. Everything went gray for a moment, and Randy felt no command over his body, only the indescribable agony within his destroyed, flaccid abs. Searing jolts of pain seemed to travel up and down his body, and he convulsed violently on the mat, unable to control himself.

A few moments later he felt Jack moving him onto his back and covering his shoulders with his broad chest and stomach. Finally, he thought, it’s over. Please God, just let this end I need the money so badly but it hurts so much. Just lie here, let the ref count me out, I don’t care just end this please...no...o god no he picked me up, no, why me, please no more no more no more, I can’t move, you win, please just finish it, I don’t want to hurt anymore, why are you doing this? Randy tried to plead, wanted to sob, but all that escaped his lips was a brief whimper. What’s he going to do to me, he thought, it just can’t be any worse, it just can’t...

Even before he started the count, Nick knew that Jack was going to pull him up. He could tell just by his body language that he wasn’t done toying with Randy just yet. Nick pounded two beats on the mat, and sure enough Jack pulled up Randy’s head before he could even begin to count three. Nick signaled the two count and quickly admonished Jack for his tactics, standard procedure. The crowd was really eating this up. Nick wasn’t sure at first how the crowd was going to react to this when his boss Larry had told him about the set up. Nick was very glad he wasn’t wearing a revealing tight set of trunks right now, because he was pretty sure everyone would know just how non-impartial he really was right now. He’d officiated at some rough matches before, but never had the chance to see such beautiful, perfect destruction like this, and probably never would again. As soon as this match was over, he was going to have to lock himself in the bathroom and take care of some urgent business.

He actually felt a small surge of jealousy as Jack lightly caressed the slack jawed, vacant eyed face in his hands. Nick suddenly felt a strong desire to inflict more pain on this man, make him cry out in anguish and helplessness. For a moment, he connected with Jack and truly understood what Jack felt, how much this meant to him. Jack looked back at Nicholas and caught his eye. He saw a grin cross Jack’s face, and as he very slowly started to maneuver Randy’s nearly dead weight body into a standing position again, Jack said softly, "I’ll give you a chance someday soon, in private, I promise. For now, remember when I talked about the Triple Threat Splash?"

An expression of shock and unbelief crossed Nick’s face for a moment before he suppressed it. Nick chastised himself mentally. It was probably too quick for anyone in the audience or on tape to have caught it unless they knew what to look for, but he had to maintain this facade until the end. And what an ending this was going to be.

Jack now had Randy’s form fully upright, but only barely - if he let go, Randy was just going to collapse on the spot. He held him there for a moment, showing his lifeless form to the audience, who roared in approval. The Triple Threat Splash - he had talked about it in passing to a few guys, including Nick, but just assumed he’d never get a chance to actually do it. Most any wrestler with enough skill to take him on would certainly be able to stop him, but he was certain there was no risk of that tonight with this man. Now he had his chance, and it would be the perfect climax to this little adventure.

Jack scooped up Randy and draped him over his shoulder. He took a few steps to get himself into position, then took three steps forward and planted Randy in the center of the ring with a giant power slam. Jack felt Randy’s flesh ripple slightly beneath him as he landed the move. He stood up, looking down at Randy’s outstretched form Only his left leg showed any sign of life as it lifted feebly into the air for a moment before dropping to the mat again. The positioning was perfect. He saw Nick get down on one knee just behind Randy’s head to check on him. He was out of the way now, so with that Jack stepped back to the ropes, then launched himself forward, jumping over Randy’s prone form. He hit the opposite ropes, then bounced back, running back and forth several times getting ready for the first splash.

Nick marveled at how Randy’s soft flesh shook with the force of the impact from that body slam. As Jack pushed himself up, his fingers sunk deep into the flesh of his fallen foe. Nick hoped the camera got a good close shot of that. He got down on one knee as Jack looked down in satisfaction at his work. Nick made a motion as if he was checking on Randy, but said "Oh man, I hope you can hear this. It’s the Triple Threat Splash, you’re in so much trouble. Three splashes, each worse than before".

At this point, Jack started his running back and forth across the ring, hurdling Randy’s body each time and gaining momentum. Before Nick stepped back, he said "Here comes number one. Hang on for the pain, he’s gonna let loose any time now". With that, Nick drew back and watched as the end came for Randy.

Randy was indeed aware of everything the ref had just said. He saw the massive form of Jack running back and forth over him as he stared up helplessly at the ceiling. He couldn’t move, and he didn’t even try now. All he could do was lie there and wait for whatever it was Jack had in store for him. Suddenly Jack stopped short and instead of jumping over Randy, jumped up instead. A moment later Randy saw the massive form of Jack descending upon him. Out of pure instinctive desperation his eyes widened in horror and he managed somehow a desperate plead of "No!", but that was all before Jack’s body crashed onto him, the force of it smashing Randy flat against the mat. A fresh wave of torment wracked his body. He tried to bellow in pain, but all he managed was a horse, guttural moan.

After landing the splash, Jack quickly pushed himself up to his knees to examine his handiwork. Randy’s face was a twisted caricature of agony, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his mouth slightly agape. Best of all, his entire body was convulsing on the mat, each contraction sending ripples through his flesh, his arms and legs quivering, his pecs and stomach bouncing in waves. In a sense, Jack started to regret it was ending so soon. He started thinking of all these other moves he could have done. He imagined giving Randy a Tombstone Piledriver, his arms wrapped tightly around that soft belly, holding him suspended as the blood rushed to his head and he looked down at impending doom a mere two feet away. Or trapping his arms within the ropes and then giving those slightly perky nipples of his a strong, violent twist. He probably would have gotten a good howl out of that. Or picking him up for a suplex and draping his gut over the top rope, watching him hang helplessly until he tumbled forward onto the mat. Or even doing it on the steel railing outside the ring.

As Randy’s seizure began to subside a bit, Jack placed his large hands on top of Randy’s chest. Nick counted to two, but again Jack raised his hands to stop the count. with the pressure off his chest, Randy gave a few more feeble convulses, his head lolling from side to side. Even as Nick started his usual tirade about his actions, Jack grabbed one of Randy’s arms and one of his legs and maneuvered him at an angle so that he was perpendicular and slightly closer to the nearest corner post. By the time he finished all this setup and executed the move, a lot of other wrestlers would have the time to recover and get out of the way or counter it. No chance here.

He bent down and patted Randy’s chest lightly. "Here’s number two," he said. He stood up and backed his way to the corner post. Placing both hands on the ropes, he pushed himself up into a seated position on the top turnbuckle, his feet resting on the second rope. Nick halfheartedly came over and started telling him to get down from the ropes, but delayed starting his count for a bit. Jack looked out at the crowd and raised his hands. The audience roared its approval. He looked down at Randy’s prone form, watched as a small shudder passed through his nearly motionless body.

With that, Jack stood up and balanced himself on the second rope, took a moment to judge the distance, then leaped into the air. He nailed the landing perfectly - 290 pounds of flesh crashing down from over five feet up, demolishing the poor jobber’s already battered body. He let himself lay there for a moment, relishing the feeling of Randy’s flesh pinned underneath his own. Nick took his time getting into position, and this time Jack pushed himself up after only a count of one. One of Randy’s legs was quivering slightly, but other than that he lay still and unmoving. After a moment even his leg stopped moving and lay like a fallen log.

Kneeling before his fallen victim, Randy took another moment to assess the crowd. He looked around, then patted his own somewhat massive midsection several times, slowly and dramatically, while nodding his head and smiling. He then pointed his finger down at Randy’s head. The crowd was going crazy - they were actually enjoying this act of destruction. He stood up, turned to the corner post and walked toward it, getting ready for the end. He knew he could keep this up, but after this last move, there really would be no point in going on and ruining such a dramatic climax.

Nick was ready. He took his time getting into position after the second splash and counted slowly, letting Jack enjoy his position as long as possible. Jack pulled away after only one, though. At this the crowd went into near hysterics, both cheering wildly and howling in outrage at the same time. Looking down at Randy, he could tell that under normal circumstances he would call the match right now and disqualify Randy for being unable to continue. Randy’s breathing was slow and laborious. upon close inspection, he noticed that Randy’s head was lolling ever so slightly from side to side. That was a good sign - it meant he still had just enough wits left about him to perhaps understand the final blow to come.

Head bowed so the audience couldn’t see what he was saying, he motioned as if checking on Randy one more time. "Man, this is great. It’s almost over now, just one more splash, this time from the top rope. Enjoy the pain, bud., I know he will." He paused. "Oh, by the way - did I mention that he’s going to land the splash on your face?" With that he stood up and noticed that Jack had just about made it to the top rope. He walked over to Jack as he stood and balanced himself on the top rope and began shouting orders for him to get down off the turnbuckle. He knew he would any moment now.

Every muscle in Randy’s body flared. Even the aches he felt after three of his hardest days of lifting at his old construction job didn’t compare to this. Nobody in his training had warned him of this level of suffering. He just wanted it to end, he didn’t care how at this point. He tried to lift his head, lift an arm, nothing. He never felt so helpless and humiliated in his life. He thought he actually had a chance at this, The ref was saying something to him now. One last splash? O god, it would hurt like hell, but maybe that would be it. Please let that be all, let that - what? What about my face? His eyes rolled over to where Jack was standing on the turnbuckle now, Jack’s body looked huge, even from this distance. So high up, my God he’s not really going to land on my face, is he? He’s looking right at me now - he’s going to do it, he’s really going to do it. No, o god no, I have to get out of here, please move, move, dammit! Somebody please help me, I don’t want to hurt like this, I can’t take it, no...o god no he’s jumping...

Time slowed to a crawl in Randy’s panic stricken head. Jack’s massive form seemed to suspend itself in midair almost directly over him. He could see Jack's’ huge at muscles flare as he spread his arms in front of him. Slowly his body descended. He could see the neat, even layer of fur on his massive chest, trailing down his enormous midsection and disappear into those black trunks. Closer now - he could see the way his slight extra layer of fat was still rippling in time to his leap. His navel loomed over him, growing larger at it neared it’s target. Utter horror gripped Randy’s brain as he tried to scream, but his body had ceased responding. Inches away now, Jack’s gut consumed all his vision.

A split second later, it was all over. Jack landed squarely on top of Randy’s head, smothering his face with his padded gut and crushing it beneath it’s weight. The mat boomed heavily as 295 pounds of solid flesh connected with it’s dead target. Pain beyond all imagining imploded through Randy’s head and body and his brain exploded in a world of white. Then, a second later, Randy finally got his wish as he finally slipped into blackness.

As Jack got his balance, he looked directly down at his victim far below. He locked eyes with Randy and smiled. He wasn’t sure, but he almost thought he saw a glimmer of recognition in those eyes. Probably not, but he could always fantasize about it in the future as he watched the tape in the privacy of his own home.

Time to put him out of his misery. He got his bearings, then with a mighty leap soared off the top rope. A moment later it was all over as he landed his solid form right on target and squashed the poor man beneath him. As he felt Randy’s face beneath his stomach, he struggled to keep his member from raging - keep it in control, deal with it later. It was tough - he was glad this was over now. He reluctantly pushed himself up. and looked down at his handiwork. Nick would probably disqualify Randy at this point, since there was no way he was getting up again. Still, let’s end this clean. He placed a single index finger on Randy’s navel and pressed down, deep. Nick made the count - very slowly, Jack noticed. After the three, he kept his finger in position. At this point everyone knew he could keep his finger there for the pin and count to a hundred. Randy was now just a destroyed rack of meat. Randy saw the stretcher coming, and his member was threatening to rise again, so he got up and walked about the ring, taking in the cheers of his fans. A lot more cheering than even he had imagined - what a night. He couldn’t wait to see the video of this one. He owed Larry a huge favor for setting this up for him.

Randy never moved as he was loaded on to the stretcher and carted out of the ring. Jack exited the ring on a side near the face entrance. Let’s give the fans one more pop, he thought. He walked toward his own entrance, passing both the stretcher and the announcer’s table on his way. With a mighty shout he suddenly threw his hands underneath the stretcher and heaved. the stretcher flipped up and over, and Randy landed right on the edge of the announcer’s table. He hung there suspended for a moment, then rolled off and dropped to the padded floor with a solid thump, his body convulsing violently, his limbs askew. Jack took a last look at Larry’s shocked expression - he even caught Larry by surprise with that one. Jack roared once more for the audience and stalked off to the showers. He noticed that Nick was literally racing for the door - he was pretty sure that when he went upstairs, Nick was going to be locked in one of the stalls taking care of business. Jack was probably going to have to follow him right away. Larry was going to make a fortune with this tape, and Jack was going to have many, many pleasurable evenings to come watching it.

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