15 July 2012

Chapter 28

Unlike the first time I was in the more intimate wrestling room, Miguel had to be dragged in and encouraged with a shove to crawl onto the oiled circular dais in the centre. His knees sank into the padding as his oiled body glistened under the overhead lights.

Like Jacob, I was naked this time, but feeling self-conscious despite the other two dozen onlookers stripped bare too. The middle-aged men salivated as they beheld the fallen black beauty before them, here for his final punishment, but all I could think of was Josh, hurt and alone. Jacob had refused to let me see him, assuring me that his dislocated shoulder was being cared for, but I wanted desperately to be by his side.  No amount of argument could persuade Jacob to let me visit though.

Seeing Miguel here now only compounded my distraction. These sick, salivating men hadn't seen Miguel after his beating, when his face was swollen and his back was covered in welts. Miguel's skin now hid all traces of that nightmare which would surely have made these rich bastards think twice about coming here again. It was all a fantasy to them. I wanted to shout out the truth, but Jacob's ever-looming presence kept me silent.

Miguel looked at me imploringly as Jacob stood for the fight's announcement.

"Hades!" Jacob snapped, motioning to Miguel. "My God of the Dead who died in the ring." The crowd tittered. "Tonight he faces his final punishment. Will he find his true strength? Or will he fall into the pits of your degenerate pleasure?"

The audience murmured their approval and shifted excitedly in their seats. Some were already licking their lips in anticipation, unaware that the outcome had already been decided.

"Only two men in this establishment would have the muscle to take down such a beast! One of them, none other than Ares, my champion!" Several people gasped, thrilled at the prospect of seeing the Tucker release his cruel streak on Miguel. "But he's already fought today," Jacob concluded.  He smiled at the smattering of disappointed cries, obviously an expert at milking his crowd, for both their money and their enjoyment.

"The other…" he said, pausing for dramatic effect.  "Is me."

Even I rose from my chair at the shock of the announcement.

"As Master of this establishment, it's only fitting that I dish the punishment to those who deserve it!"

The exclusive crowd erupted into cheers and applause, rivaling the volume reached in the main auditorium. To these men, the chance to see Jacob fight was rarer than an empty bank account. It was a breathtaking twist that would secure their patronage for a long time to come!

"No!" I said, grabbing Jacob's arm and looking desperately at Miguel.  "Don't do this, please!" but Jacob pushed me back into my seat.

"You don't have to worry," Jacob whispered, misinterpreting my panic. "He knows his place and how it has to end. And if he doesn't, I can handle myself."

Jacob strode fearlessly to the central dais and dove onto it, sliding across its length, letting his body oil up from the mat. He rolled onto his back, then rising to his knees, he wiped the excess oil from his torso, redistributing it to his arms and neck.

"I won't let you do this!" Miguel pleaded, looking just as terrified as the first time I'd met him.

Jacob simply smiled and glided across the mat towards him.  Miguel pounced, locking Jacob into a headlock and bringing him down to the mat. They slid over and over, one on top of the other until Miguel landed on top.  He pinned Jacobs hands to the mat.

"This is wrong," he said, as Jacob squirmed underneath him. "You can't do this!"

"If you don't want to be fucked," Jacob said, arching his back and sliding his feet up and down the length of Miguel's legs, "then you're going to have to fuck me instead."

"I won't!" Miguel snapped.

"Then you really are fucked," Jacob smiled. His biceps flexed but his arms didn't rise of the mat and it suddenly struck me as a little too reminiscent of my own erotic domination of him. The size of Jacob's biceps couldn't compare to Miguel's, but it was obvious, to me at least, that Jacob was simply playing with his food.

I held my breath, waiting for him to strike, but instead of breaking free, his arms slid up higher, stretching high above his head. Miguel's body slid down over him and suddenly Jacob was devouring Miguel's chest, licking and sucking noisily, with occasional grunts as though doing it against his will.  His legs had locked around Miguel's, discretely holding him in place and I saw how tightly their hands were clasped. Although on top, Miguel was the one pinned.

Miguel pulled back and Jacob released him, letting them separate.  As they rose to their knees, Jacob grinned and said "You're strong!" loud enough for all the punters to hear. They lunged at each other and Jacob fell onto all fours, letting Miguel get behind him and pull him to his knees in a full nelson.

"Argh!" Jacob gasped, a little too over-dramatically, and he wriggled about doing nothing to break free. The audience was lapping it up and unfortunately, so was Miguel.

Miguel flipped Jacob face down on the mat, maintaining the nelson. He tightened the hold by locking his fingers behind Jacob's neck.

"Why are you doing this?" Miguel said. "This is wrong! It's...sick."

Jacob's response was to raise his hips and glide his arse up and down against Miguel's groin. He made groaning and moaning noises and from the frantic masturbation of the onlookers, it must have seemed like it was Miguel doing the grinding.

Only I could see Jacob's face, squashed to the mat. He was looking at me and smiling.

"Last chance," Jacob said to Miguel. It was barely audible to me, probably not at all to the rest in the room. "You can take it like a man, or I can hurt you bad. Which is it going to be?"


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