07 October 2012

Chapter 34

There was no possible way to describe my relief that Saxon lived up to his promise. The pretty boy suffered beautifully at my hands, dominating me occasionally to keep the punters happy, but ultimately succumbing to my wiles.  Like all the guys here, he was the kind of perfection one hoped to find in a nightclub. His smooth skin felt like silk on my lips and the taste of his flesh made me hunger for more. My fingers craved to ride the seductive ridges of his definition, and when his legs wrapped around mine, I got lost in the comfort of his embrace.

Even with a fighting chance, I would have lost a real battle against the expert eroticism of Saxon's touch. The way he breathed on my neck; the way he traced the contours of my body with his fingers; the way he made our bodies one with each other… He made me melt and it was he who pulled me on top now and then to take control. If not for his promise, I would have simply dissolved in an orgasmic aura of enchantment.

Jacob accepted the results of the grapple at face value, and although obviously miffed at how much I had enjoyed it, he preferred to see me as a reflection of himself, dominating my opponent. He celebrated my victory, calling me his protégé and 'mini-me' and other favourable names that tied my win to him. He treated me to an early champagne dinner after I'd showered, where he smothered me with kisses and fed me tapas from his lips to reclaim me as his own.

As the evening wore on, we made our way to the main ring and he sat with his arm wrapped around my shoulders. I leaned on his shoulder and rested a hand on his stomach, absentmindedly twirling the my fingers through the hair. 

I'd only seen Colby in an erotic match against Saxon but even then I had to admire his well-proportioned physique. Unlike Miguel's shapely V-frame, Saxon's size and muscle was evenly distributed, making his waist look just as solid as his shoulders. He was model material with the Marilyn Munroe beauty spot on his cheek and a buzz cut on top, and when he entered, I fantasized briefly about what it would be like seeing him and Miguel in the erotic ring.

Miguel entered the pit, standing tall against a tidal wave of boos and jeers from the punters. I could tell from the way he looked up at me that he was well removed from the confidence he was trying to display. My fantasy evaporated on seeing him and I clenched my fist and held it out in a symbol of strength. He mimicked my gesture but there was little power behind it. I could see his fear, almost smell it.

The end of the announcements bypassed us as I offered my support with my eyes. Neither of us saw Colby approach until it was too late. Colby locked onto Miguel's shoulders, squeezing his pressure points. Miguel dropped to his knees with a grunt, contorting with pain.

Colby held him down, knowing that Miguel had nowhere to go and would weaken quickly under the torture of having his pressure points squeezed. Miguel reached up to clasp Colby's wrists, his biceps erupting over his arms as he tried to pull himself free. He was beginning to sink forward and Colby guided him down to the ground, sitting on Miguel's back and punching him between the shoulder blades.

Colby wrapped an arm around Miguel's throat, his bicep just as impressive as it pressed into the side of Miguel's face. I dropped back into my seat, and Jacob grabbed my knee and squeezed.

Miguel stopped trying to pull Colby's arm away and flattened his hands on the ground, pushing himself up. Colby's legs wrapped around his waist and he fell sideways, rolling Miguel over on top of him in a leg lock.  He hauled one of Miguel's arms back in a half-nelson.

Miguel tugged at the arm around his neck then reached back to claw at Colby's face but Colby released the choke snapped Miguel's free arm back, stretching him out between the full nelson and the leg lock.

Miguel's breath came in short, sharp pants as he tried to breath while being stretched so tightly. His stomach muscles rippled with the effort. It was a sight to behold, seeing him squirming in Colby's grasp and I pictured myself lying over him, smothering that taunt torso with kisses; massaging his pecs; and reaching down to caress his enormous cock. I pictured Colby beneath him, splaying Miguel out for my pleasure, exposing that beautiful chocolate skin to my every desire. I pictured Miguel responding to my touch, silently begging for more; no longer struggling to break free now that I was there to release his tension. I pictured our lips pressing into each other as I lay grinding myself on top of him. I pictured him whispering my name and wanting me never to stop.

"What are you doing?" Jacob asked, and I realised my hand had slipped to my groin.

"N-nothing," I said, "It's just an itch."


I turned back to the fight, embarrassed by my reverie and just a little surprised that visions of my erotic fight with Miguel should resurface now, when his life hung in the balance.

The volatile crowd was booing again, their vocal disapproval doing nothing to help Miguel's confidence. None were surprised to see him pinned so quickly again. Like his first time in the ring, Miguel had failed to get in a single shot against his opponent, and here he was locked in an inescapable hold again. 

He tried rocking side to side but Colby held him firm in the stretch, releasing the leg lock around Miguel's waist to wrap his ankles around Miguel's legs and splay them out wide, stopping any chance of rolling over.

Miguel's mouth opened in a silent cry and I begged him not to submit. His head raised and he looked directly at me. My fists were up by my mouth. I was leaning forward in my seat and I beseeched him with my eyes to fight back.

Miguel shook his head, eyes squeezing tight. He cried out again, raising me to my feet with the rest of the crowd. It was the same gesture he'd made just before he caved in to Tyson.

"Oh, no!" I moaned. I was sure I could feel my heart break as I clutched my chest and a horrible, sinking dismay lowered me back into my seat.


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