B&B versus The Masked Marauders
By
The Mangler
The commissioner of the Redneck Arena was sitting in his
office doing his least favorite thing – going over the financial stuff. Personally, he didn’t care about that. As long as he could put on matches and
manipulate the wrestlers, he was happy.
The investors, however, were always looking for profits, so, even though
the Arena was profitable, he had come up with a couple of ideas about how to
make more profit but wasn’t sure if he could pull it off.
He had told his assistant Harry (“who the hell named
their kid Harry”) that he wasn’t to be bothered until his meeting after
lunch. His quite was shattered when he
heard a big bang in the outer office followed by a loud voice screaming, “I
don’t fucking care what anyone told you.
We are here and we don’t fucking wait for anyone or anything. So, tell that dickwad you work for that we
are here.”
The commissioner walked over and opened his door to see
Harry pushed back against the wall and being held up about one foot off the
floor. The masked guy holding him had
him by the neck. The guy was much larger
than Harry, who was by no means small at 175 pounds. Harry’s nemesis stood 6’3” and weighed about
260. The commissioner was excellent at
guessing height and weight from years of practice.
“Would you mind putting my assistant down?” the commissioner asked.
The man turned toward him and said “You mean this little
pissant of a man?” With that he pulled
Harry away from the wall, shook him like a rag doll and then tossed him to the
floor. “I would think a wrestling commissioner
would have a more manly and capable assistant.”
The guy walked over until he was in front of the commissioner
who was standing in the open doorway. He
reached out, put his hands under each armpit and lifted the commissioner up and
then walked in the office with the commissioner being carried backward.
“What the fuck…” the commissioner began.
“You were in the way so I moved you. Just like I move all obstacles.”
He sat the commissioner down, walked around the desk, sat
in the comfortable chair, and put his feet up on the desk.
“Hey, get your damned feet off my desk and get out of my
chair.”
“Funny, looks like it’s mine. You have a damned problem with that? If so, you can come move me.” The guy was giving the commissioner the death
stare.
“No, I guess not.
You must be the Marauder. Our
appointment is for later today.” The commissioner
then sat in one of the visitor’s chairs.
“Well, obviously I am ONE of the Marauders. My partner should be here soon. And the appointment is when we damned well
say it is.”
From the outer office, there came a scream which was cut
off followed by something hitting the floor.
Another large man walked through the door also wearing a mask. He was 6’2” and 250 pounds. The commissioner could see Harry laying on
the floor in the reception room. The
look in his eyes was murderous.
“You need a better assistant if you expect him to keep
people out.”
He walked over and sat down in one of the guest chairs
and then propped his feet up on the desk.
“How much are you going to pay us for this event?” the
first Marauder asked.
“Well, I thought we could discuss ….”
“No fucking discussion.
We get $3000 each for the match.”
“What, $3000, that’s that’s outrageous.” The commissioner
spluttered.
“For one of your wimpy assed regular wrestlers
maybe. But not for us who are real
wrestlers and the best there is and we are THE MARAUDERS.”
“Well, you are good but….”
The second Marauder stood up and looked down at the commissioner. “No fucker we are not GOOD. We are the BEST. Our record speaks for
itself. 20 matches, 20 wins, 10
retirements and a couple of good humiliations.
The last faggot team had to be pulled naked from the ring in front of
their family and friends. You should
have seen the look on Grandma’s face. They tucked tail, ran, and haven’t been seen
or heard from again. Of course, everyone
saw a lot that night. That’s what you
are looking for and that’s what we will give you. While our matches were not always appreciated
at other venues, here at the Redneck, your fucking idiot fans will love it.”
“I don’t like the word faggot..”
“Oh, don’t get your politically correct panties in a
wad. There is a difference between a gay
guy and a faggot. Faggots like what we
do to them, even if they don’t know it.
So, about that money.”
“How about a meet and greet while….”
Both Marauders laughed.
“That shits for losers and wannabees.
We don’t give a fuck about those damned marks. As long as they drop their money and cheer
us, that’s all that matters. And they
don’t even have to cheer us. Most of
them are blue collar trash anyway and a waste of space.”
The commissioner just stared. He knew many wrestlers who felt that way, but
hadn’t heard such overt disrespect before from a wrestler looking for a job.
The second Marauder, looked over the commissioner’s
shoulder, smirked, stood up and walked around him and went over to the small
bar. He reached down and pulled out a
very expensive bottle of whisky. He
removed the top.
The commissioner started toward the bar. “Hey, what the
fuck are you doing. That is a very
expensive bottle and for special occasions.”
“It’s a bottle of piss water but it looks like the best
you can afford.” He poured two glasses
and walked back to the desk and handed one to his partner.
The commissioner just stared for second and then turned
to pour himself a glass. As he reached for the bottle, the Marauder walked back
over, reached around him and grabbed the bottle. “This may be only piss water but it still way
too good for the likes of you.”
He returned and plopped down on the chair. “So, we get $3000.00 each and we beat the
hell out of a couple of fucking losers.
I hear that we can get away with a lot more here. So, make sure that
nudity is allowed in the contract but no goddamned sex. That fagg….gay stuff WILL NOT occur around
us. Our opponents get beat up,
humiliated, striped, and probably retired.
You get your jollies off and we are all good. But tell you what, we will give you a
break. We’ll only charge you $2750.00
each if you give us those twink twins who think they are hot shit!”
“You mean B&B?”
“If you mean butthead and beavis, then yeah. It looks like they would be a hell of a lot
of fun to throw around. And being the
puny pieces of humanity that they are, they can be thrown a long way. Plus beating the fuck and piss out of one of
the fan’s favorites will let them know what a real tag team is.”
The two Marauders then stood, grabbed the whiskey bottle
and headed for the door. “Well, we got a
deal or not?”
“I’ll have to talk to…”
“Nah, we do it this Friday or you can look elsewhere.”
The commissioner just looked and as they shrugged their
shoulders and started to turn, he said “Wait, okay yeah this Friday.”
“Well, the price has gone back up to $300 because of the
disrespect”
The commissioner started to argue but realized that
wouldn’t help his case. “Fine this
Friday at 8:00.”
“We’ll be here at 8:55, the match starts at 9:00. Have
someone stationed at the back door so we don’t have to waste any more time in
this shithole than we have to. Our
manager will be here tomorrow for the fee, in cash. Oh, and we don’t sign shit and neither does
our manager.”
“We usually pay after the..” The commissioner started. But looking at the two Marauders raise their
eyebrows, he just said “fine”
The Marauders walked by Harry who shrank back while the commissioner
just dropped into a chair. “What a
fucking pair of pricks. But the fans
will eat it up watching B&B be squashed.”
The commissioner then reached down and rearranged his cock which had
started to harden thinking about the beatdown to come.
Harry stuck his head in the door and said “I want a
fucking raise.”
“Sure, sure,” the commissioner replied.
In the Ring on Friday Night
The fans were glad the first three matches were over
with. While they had been entertaining,
it was now time for the match all of them came for –B&B versus the
Marauders. While the fans loved B&B,
they loved a good beatdown even more.
And from what the fans knew, the Marauders specialized in good beatdowns,
even more so than B&B.
But what little most fans knew was from rumor as few had
seen them in action. What they did know was that they were undefeated. What they did know what that they liked to
beat the shit out of their opponents.
What they did know was that many of their opponents retired. They didn’t know much beyond that because the
Marauders never interacted directly with the fans. They preened for them, but never did a meet
and greet, a handshake, an interview, or any other interactions. The fans had heard that they came straight
from outside the arena into the ring before the match, and afterward went
straight from the ring outside. They
didn’t even interact with other wrestlers.
But none of that mattered to the fans. As long as they got to see B&B get a good
beatdown they would be happy – for now. The
growing anticipation in the crowd was palpable.
They were especially anxious for the match because it promised to be a
squash of epic proportions and there was one thing the Redneck Arena crowd
liked and that was a good beatdown.
“The first of our tag teams
tonight is already in the ring. They are
well known to you bastards. Here are
B&B, Braaaaad and Baaaarry.”
Brad and Barry, twin brothers
who were known as vicious fighters, were standing in their corner awaiting the
arrival of the Marauders. They were
dressed in identical purple wrestling trunks with a red stripe around the
waist. They stood 5’ 8” tall and weighed
a very muscular and cut 150 pounds, as they had been competitive gymnasts.
Taylor, the ref for tonight,
was dressed in standard ref attire:
black and white striped shirt, which appeared to be too big, black pants
and black sneakers. He was still fairly
new to refereeing in the Redneck Arena but was starting to better understand
the dynamics here. He had already
checked B&B for foreign objects and was very thorough in his search. He had checked all the normal hiding spots
and found nothing. But he was still on
alert.
“And their opponents for tonight,
fighting for the first time in the Redneck Arena, are The Maaaasked
Maaaraaauders.”
As the announcer finished, the
two Marauders entered the cage dressed in matching red singlets, white knee
pads and red wrestling boots. The two men were definitely impressive in their
size: 6’2” 250 and 6’3” 265. They were well muscled but not overly cut.
This match was obviously a
mismatch made in the commissioner’s vision of heaven (or hell). They all but ignored the crowd as they walked
down to the ring. They oozed arrogance
and conceit.
The Marauders jumped up onto
the ring apron, one on each side of their corner post. As they usually did, they each put one leg
between the top and the second rope with the thigh sitting on the rope while
the other leg was planted on the ring apron.
They turned and gave a double bicep pose to the crowd as they acknowledged
the audience for the first time. The
audience applauded and cheered. When the
audience cheered, both of the Marauders gave them a double middle finger while
they screamed “FUCK YOU.” This just
encouraged the crowd more.
This was the moment that
B&B had been waiting for. While the
fans may not know much about the Marauders, B&B had done extensive research
on their opponents and knew how they would enter the ring. They charged across the ring and each did a
baseball slide under the bottom rope near their opponents. As they slid under the rope, they each
grabbed the ankle of the leg inside the ring.
As they continued sliding out of the ring and to the floor, they rotated
so that when they hit the floor on their feet, they were facing into the ring
holding onto the ankle. As soon as their
feet hit the floor, they tightened their hold on the ankle and then wrenched
backwards as hard as they could. This
forced the Marauder’s thigh further into the ring and downward, causing their
bodies to drop down so that their balls impacted the second rope with full
force.
The Marauders dropped their
biceps pose as their hands reached for their nuts. As soon as the balls had impacted the ring
rope, Brad and Barry released one hand from the inner ankle and grabbed the
outer ankle. Then they charged backwards
down the ropes towards the other ring post while pulling down, dragging the
Marauders with them. This insured that
the Marauder’s balls were firmly against the middle rope, which was bowed
downward from the pressure, and as they were pulled along the rope, their balls
were subjected to friction and pressure causing a pain like they had never felt
before.
Once they impacted the
turnbuckle, Brad and Barry released both ankles, hopped up onto the ring apron,
secured the Marauder’s heads in a side headlock, and then dove off the apron
toward the floor, pulling the Marauders with them. B&B made sure that the Marauder’s heads
impacted on the hard floor stunning them.
Each twin pulled their opponents to their feet, a hard task as they were
almost dead weight, and then gave each Marauder a DDT. The match had not even officially begun and
the Marauders were in a world of hurt and were barely with it.
After the DDT, Brad stood and
charged around the ring to where Barry had pulled his Marauder into a sitting
position and locked on a sleeper. Brad
began slamming boots into the abs in a rapid-fire manner preventing Marauder #2
from effectively sucking in air. #2
quickly succumbed to the sleeper and was out.
Taylor had finally made it out
of the ring and was trying to break up the action. After Brad stopped kicking, he turned toward Taylor.
“What the hell are you babbling
about,” he demanded.
“I said stop this crap or I
will disqualify both of you.”
“You can’t disqualify us. The
match hasn’t been started yet, so you don’t have the ability to do so,” Brad
screamed.
Usually by now the commissioner
would have rung the bell to give official sanction to the start of the match,
but he was holding off because, although the match was not going the way he
intended, he was intrigued and wanted to see what was going to happen.
While Taylor was distracted,
Barry had begun to unlace #2’s mask.
Seeing what he was doing, the audience was anxiously awaiting to see who
the man was. But they were just going to
have to wait.
Once he had what he thought was
sufficient length of laces free, Barry called out to Brad. Brad stopped arguing with the ref and
sidestepped Taylor and walked over to #2.
He and Barry each grabbed under an armpit and pulled the Marauder to the
ring cage, where they pulled him to a sitting position and his masked head was
pushed back against the cage.
One of B&B’s friends,
standing outside the cage, threaded the laces from the mask through the fence
and pulled the laces tight. He then
began knotting the laces together until he had run out of lace. Marauder #2 was
now unconscious and tied to the cage by his mask.
Taylor was screaming at the fan
and at B&B to stop this. He even
reached between the cage and tried to pull the lace through so that he could
unknot it.
Once B&B realized that #2
was safely out of the way, they turned and ran around the ring in different
directions. They met where Marauder
#1was trying to push himself up and they delivered two knee drops across the
upper back, slamming him back down into the floor.
Next, they each grabbed an arm,
pulled him upright, and jerked him forward, propelling him head first into the
ring post. After the impact, #1 stumbled
back where Barry encircled his waist, lifted him, and fell backwards driving
#1’s head into the thin mats. He moaned
and just lay there.
B&B again each grabbed an
arm, lifted #1 up, pushed him into the ring, then hopped in after him. Barry looked over at the commissioner and
nodded, and the commissioner rang the bell, officially starting the match.
When Taylor heard the bell, he
turned in disbelief to look at the commissioner who just waved, shrugged his
shoulders and laughed. Taylor continued
to turn his head until he saw B&B in the ring, stomping the crap out of
Marauder #1. Realizing that he had a
choice to make, he dropped the laces and ran back to the ring sliding under the
bottom rope. As soon as he had dropped
the laces, the fan had grabbed them and re-knotted the few knots that had been
undone.
Security had started to move in
the direction of the fence, but the crowd, who had been specifically recruited
by B&B, had amassed at this area and was offering resistance as the guards
tried to get to the cage wall to assist #2.
They weren’t making much progress.
Brad grabbed one ankle, and
Barry grabbed the other. They stepped
into the “V” formed by splitting the
legs and pushed the ankles apart. Each
one then began to stomp and kick into the upper thigh muscles. Tiring of this, #1 was pulled into B&B’s
corner where he was forced to his feet.
His right leg was placed over the second rope as Barry exited the ring
to stand on the apron in his corner. He
placed his arm around #1’s throat to support him and apply a choke. Brad ran across the ring and bounced off the
ropes, before charging back into his corner and delivering a flying knee into
the upper thigh. He repeated the move once more. After the second knee, Barry removed his arm
from the throat, and #1 dropped to the mat.
Brad stepped on the left ankle, grabbed the right ankle and stretched
the legs apart. Barry was able to get
some kicks in from the apron.
Taylor has climbed back into
the ring and approached the corner. He
was pissed.
“Drop the legs and release the
man,” he demanded.
“Why? This is a legal hold,” Brad snapped back.
“Your brother was interfering
from outside the ring, so drop the damned legs or else.”
Brad dropped the leg and got
into Taylor’s face.
“What is the fucking matter
with you man. I’m trying to beat this
piece of shit, legally and you’re getting in my damned way.” As he was arguing, Brad moved around the ring
such that the ref was facing away from the corner.
Barry dropped from the ring
apron to the floor, reached under the ropes and grabbed #1’s right ankle. He partially pulled the wrestler out of the
ring before he began slamming the right thigh continuously into the turnbuckle.
Hearing the screams from the
Marauder, Taylor turned back to the corner to see Barry’s actions. He immediately demanded a break and then
began a count.
Before dropping the ankle,
Barry slammed the thigh into the ring post one final time and then pulled straight
out on the leg pulling Marauder’s balls into the ring post. While the move didn’t have full impact because of the short distance and only one leg, it still
had an effect. Barry then dropped the ankle, hopped back up onto the apron and
began to argue with Taylor. As he did so, Brad reached over the top rope and tagged in
Barry. He then began to deliver kicks to
the Marauder.
Taylor, again, got between Brad
and the Marauder and pushed him back into the ring threatening him with
disqualification. Barry dropped down on
the floor, walked to the corner, grabbed the Marauders legs and intertwined
them into his own. He had locked on a hanging figure four leg lock with him dangling down the ring post
to the floor. This had the effect of not
only putting pressure on the right knee, but also forcing the Marauder’s balls
tighter into the ring post.
When he heard the loud groan
coming from the Marauder, Taylor turned to see what was happening. Realizing what was going on, he moved toward
the corner and began his count. Brad
rushed back over and began to stomp at the chest. Taylor had to break his count to move Brad
out of the way, while Barry continued with the hold.
Once he had Brad back into the ring and out of his way, Taylor again
turned to the corner and began to count.
Brad simply moved back in and began to stomp away meaning Taylor again
had to push him back to the center of the ring and announced, “You touch him
one more time and this match is over with.”
Brad just smirked, raised his
hands and backed away. Taylor then
returned to the corner and began his count.
Barry disentangled himself from the legs and walked away before Taylor
hit the 5 count. He slid back into the
ring, ignoring the admonishments coming from Taylor. He walked over, grabbed an arm of his
opponent, and pulled him out of the corner and fully back into the ring.
Once he had #1 back the ring,
Barry got on his knees between the legs.
He placed one hand on the right knee, and the other in the lower
abdomen, then lifted up and slammed a knee into the right thigh. He did this repeatedly until tiring of the
move. He stood, reached over and tagged
his brother, who leapt over the top rope landing on the thigh.
B&B each grabbed an arm,
pulled the Marauder to his feet, where he had trouble standing on the right
leg, and drug him back into their corner, throwing his arms over the top
rope. Barry exited the ring while Brad
started to punch into the abs. Taylor
forced him away.
Outside on the ring apron,
Barry grabbed the Marauders right shoulder strap in the back and in the front
with his arm around the chest. He pulled
the strap backward and around the Marauder so that it was choking him and then wrapped the strap around the top of the ring
post. As Taylor turned back to the
corner, Barry was standing well away from the Marauder who was making choking sounds.
Before Taylor could truly
assess the situation, Brad was back in the corner and began slamming fists into the chest, abs and occasionally the
balls. After only a few hits the Marauder was beginning to sag. Brad broke before the count of five and
stepped back only long enough to convince Taylor to stop counting and then
returned to the fists.
Taylor pushed Brad back,
“That’s fucking it asshole. NO more
touching in the corner.”
Brad simply laughed, reached
out and tagged his brother then moved out of the ring. Barry entered the ring, approached the
Marauder in the corner and began a series of punches.
Taylor, livid at this point,
actually grabbed Barry and pulled him away from the corner.
“That’s fucking it. This match is over.”
“Why?”, Barry asks.
“I told you that if you touched
him again, that I was disqualifying your ass.”
“No, you told my brother that,
you didn’t say anything to me.”
Taylor wanted to stop the match
and end the charade, but he realized that Barry was correct. Instead, he issued the same warning to Barry.
Taylor turned back to the
corner to find that Brad was standing away from it. He walked over to #1 and finally figured out
what the issue was. Reaching behind the
wrestler, he was able to free the singlet strap. As soon as he did, #1 dropped face down to
the mat, all the while sucking in deep breaths.
Barry charged in with a knee
drop to the back. He then turned #1 over
so that he was on his back. He sat
across the chest and began delivering a series of open-handed jabs and thrusts
into the abs. Tiring of this, he then
locked on an abdominal claw, raised up, and put his full weight over his hands
to get the most effect.
The Marauder was trying to buck
and break the hold, but still hadn’t got much juice back yet. Barry reached over and tagged Brad who
climbed to the top rope and, just as Barry released the claw and leaned back,
Brad jumped off the rope coming down with both feet in the abs. The Marauder raised his knees up and tried to
sit up, but with Barry still on his chest he had no chance.
Barry then rolled off #1, and
under the ropes. With some difficulty,
Brad was able to pull the Marauder up and into an abdominal stretch. The Marauder was almost dead weight at this
time and difficult to hold up, so Brad dropped to the mat and converted the
hold into a guillotine. Once he had it
locked on, he stretched #1 as much as possible.
Occasionally he would release one hand and slam a fist or an open hand
into the gut. If Taylor wasn’t in the
line of sight, he would chop into the groin. The Marauder, while in a great deal of pain,
refused to submit when asked by the ref.
He was going to allow these two little punks to be their first loss in
the ring.
Brad finally released the hold,
reached out and tagged Barry. The two
wrestlers lifted Marauder #1 up in the air and dropped him abs-first across Barry’s outstretched knee. As Taylor escorted Brad out of the ring,
Barry repeated the abs buster twice more.
He then dropped the Marauder to
the ring chest first and grabbed the ankles, locked them under his arms and sat
on the lower back and pulled him into a Boston crab. The Marauder’s worked over abs were being
stretched to their limits. Occasionally
Barry would slam a fist into the right thigh, as well.
Security was finally able to
reach Marauder #2 who had become more alert.
He was screaming and cursing as he was trying to stand to go assist his
partner.
“Someone get me out of this
fucking mess,” he was screaming as he was desperately trying to free himself by
untying the knots.
“If you would get your
goddamned hands out of the way, we would help you, asshole,” one of the members
of security screamed. For as they were
trying to undo the knots, the Marauder reaching up and pulling and twisting was
getting in the way. Finally realizing
that he wasn’t helping, he dropped his hands down into his lap. However, he continued to scream, curse, and
defame the security guard’s family lineage.
Coming to the realization that
it was going to take forever to untie all the knots, the security guy pulled
out a knife and cut through both strands of the lace as it went around the cage
wire. Suddenly the entire length of knots came free from the mask.
Marauder #2 felt his head
suddenly move forward as he was freed from the cage. He regained his feet and
charged around the ring. Brad was
standing on the ring apron encouraging his brother when suddenly he felt
himself falling downward because Marauder #2 had grabbed his ankles and jerked
them off the apron.
As soon as he hit the floor, Brad
was spun around and received a right fist into the point of his chin, slamming
his head backward as he dropped to the floor.
#2 jumped onto the ring apron, leaped to the top rope and came off with
a drop kick to the back of Barry’s head, forcing him forward and slamming his
forehead into the mat. Of course, he
lost control of the crab on #1.
He began to slam stomps to the
back of Barry’s head and upper back. Taylor
was finally able to get him pushed back.
“What the fuck do you think you
are doing,” #2 screamed, spittle flying all over the place.
“Getting you out of the
action. You’re not the legal man so get
out of the ring and back to your corner.”
“But you have been letting them
get away with murder already. I’m going
to beat the ever-loving crap out of both of them
….” Marauder #2 had begun before he slammed forward into Taylor and took both
of them down to the mat because Brad had recovered from the punch and had
chosen to take a play from Marauder #2’s play book and deliver a dropkick off
the ropes.
This had the unfortunate effect
of slamming him forward, into the referee dropping both of them to the
mat. Well, unfortunate for Taylor who
had the full weight of #2 fall on him, and unfortunate for #2 who had not only
gotten a kick to the back of the head, but was also without Taylor’s protection
against B&B for however long it took Taylor to regain focus. And B&B
intended to take full advantage.
Brad began delivering a series
of stomps to the back of the head, neck and upper back of #2. Since he was laying on top of the ref, these kicks were also transferred to
him. #2 partially rolled off the
ref. Brad reached down and pulled him
over so that he was laying fully on his back.
He picked up both ankles, spread them and did a leg drop down into the
nuts.
Rising off the mat, he used the
mask and chin of #2 to pull him to his feet where #2’s head was placed between Brad’s thighs in
preparation for a pile driver. However,
#2 wasn’t as out of it as Brad had thought, and he began to push and
struggle. This ended when Barry
delivered a pump handle shot between the legs and into the balls.
Immediately after the ball
shot, Brad lifted #2 up and dropped down in a piledriver, driving the head down
into the mat. As soon as #2 had hit the
mat, Barry grabbed him by the mask and pulled him back to his feet. He felt the mask slip a little but didn’t
think much of it. He locked the head
under his right armpit and fell backward, again slamming #2’s head into the mat
as he executed the DDT.
Barry was on top of #2 and
again pulled him to his feet. He locked #2’s head into his left armpit, but his
time with the Marauder face up. #2 had
to spread his legs and bend his back to try to maintain some stability, but
after the two head shots it was hard to do.
It got even harder when Brad’s boot slammed up into his balls. #2 went somewhat limp and Barry let him drop
to the mat.
Brad came around and applied a
figure four headlock while Barry began to stomp, kick and elbow into the
abs. Tiring of this, B&B dropped the
holds and Barry reached down and grabbed the top of the mask to lift him
up. As he did so, the mask began to
slide up the face. #2 was barely able to
comprehend what was happening, but he managed to get his hands up and grab the
bottom of the mask to keep it from slipping off.
Brad and Barry just looked at
each other, and without saying a word came to the same conclusion. Time to unmask one of the Masked
Marauders. Brad dropped down between the
legs of the Marauder and began to deliver a series of punches in the lower abs
and the groin until finally the Marauder released his hold on the mask to drop
his hands down to try and protect himself.
Barry continued to pull until
the mask slipped off completely.
However, the Marauder was fast and managed to get his hands up to protect
his face. He suddenly found a great deal
of strength and encouragement, so he was able to bend his legs so that his feet
were flat on the mat, slide upward until he was clear of Brad and then rolled
out of the ring. He never moved his
hands from his face so he hit the mats full force. He still had the sense of mind to roll under
the ring.
Brad and Barry looked over the
ring rope, turned toward each other, high fived, and just shook their
heads. They turned back into the ring
where they saw that Marauder #1 had regained his feet, but Taylor had not. They charged as one across the ring and began
to pummel the Marauder with fists, forearms and elbows, until he again
collapsed to the mat.
Barry reapplied a figure four
headlock, while Brad went about untying and removing the trunks and the
jockstrap. He laughed because, at least
while soft, Marauder #1 had a small dick.
Brad nudged it with his toe and laughed again. “I’m so sorry dude. Didn’t realize that we were fighting boys,
and not men.”
Seeing that Taylor was trying
to get back to his feet, Brad tossed the trunks and the jockstrap against the
cage wall. As soon as they hit, hands
appeared through the mesh, grabbed the two items and pulled them out into the
audience. A skirmish broke out over the
items.
Brad then became solicitous and
helped Taylor back to his feet while
apologizing for the “inadvertent involvement of the ref.” In truth Brad had seen his opportunity and
took out both #2 and the ref with the same move. But he could always plausibly claim that the
ref was collateral damage.
Once he regained control, Taylor
turned toward the middle of the ring where he noticed that Marauder #1 was
naked and that Barry had him in a standing full nelson. Once Barry was aware that the ref was aware,
he started turning until he has Marauder #1 in a spinning full nelson. His cock and balls were flopping about.
As the Marauder had become
aware of his state, he had become mortified.
“I submit, I submit, I give, no
more, no more,” he cried with each phrase getting louder. Finally
Taylor became aware of the
submission and signaled for the bell. As
soon as he heard the bell, Barry released the
nelson and the force of the spinning caused the Marauder to hit the mat and
slide under the ropes and to the floor, where he lay dazed. He did have enough sense to try and cover his
crotch.
However, a chant arose in the
crowd of “Microdick, microdick” which soon morphed into Microdick Marauder – a
nickname that would stick if the Marauder was ever in the Redneck Arena
again. And he sincerely hoped that he
wasn’t.
Taylor raised Brad and Barry’s
hands to the cheers of “microdick”. They
just laughed and looked at one another.
Using his head, Brad signaled Barry to the edge of the ring where Marauder
#2 had disappeared. Barry got an evil
smirk across his face and nodded. They
both dropped the ref’s hands.
Taylor wasn’t really aware of
what all had occurred but did know to exit the ring to check on Marauder #1 who
was still shaky.
Brad and Barry exited the ring
on the other side, raised the cloth around the ring apron and disappeared under
the ring. Suddenly, there could be heard screaming, grunting, yells and clanging of
the ring structure. Finally, Barry and Brad appeared at the edge of the ring
each holding an ankle. They were trying
to pull Marauder #2 out from under the ring.
He had managed to grab a ring support to stop the action. Barry handed his ankle to Brad, reached up
and locked on a ball claw. The Marauder
screamed but finally released his hold on the ring support.
With Brad pulling, the Marauder
slipped out from under the ring.
However, his identity was still protected as he had his hands over his
face. Barry bulled the Marauder over to his
stomach and then he and Brad began to kick at the shoulders, and biceps. They then reached down, under the Marauder,
grabbed his wrists and pulled both hands out and then twisted them up his back
into a double arm bar. Brad held the
arms together while Barry stripped the wrestling gear from their opponent. They then started to pull the Marauder up.
“No, no. Please guys no.
Anything, anything you want, just don’t expose my face.”
Brad and Barry considered the
offer for about 1 microsecond then both said “nah, this was too good to pass
up.”
The Marauder was then pulled to
his feet facing the ring. The brother
cranked on the hammerlocks pushing the
forearms higher up the back forcing the Marauder to his toes. They slowly turned their opponent around to
face the crowd, which was initially stunned and then broke out into loud
laughter for there in front of their eyes was none other than Payton Harding
Williams the IV – a very prominent member of the high society Williams family,
and also the major star of a weekly family comedy.
Having no way to hide, his face
was exposed for all to see, as was his junk. Unlike his
partner, Payton’s cock and balls were very impressive even in their soft
state. While Brad and Barry would have
liked nothing better than to lead Payton to the cage edge so the fans could
grope him, the contract for this match contained a no sex clause which included
fan action. But Brad and Barry didn’t
remember seeing a no nudity clause.
Taylor was finally satisfied
that #1 was doing okay and had found his way to the other side of the ring to
an amazing spectacle. Marauder #2 being
paraded around in all his glory for the audience to see, while his face had
turned scarlet red. Taylor just stood
there and looked along with everyone else.
No wonder #2 wore a mask, seeing who he was.
Brad and Barry finally dropped
Payton who simply curled up into the fetal position. They wandered
over to Marauder #1 who had managed to get into a sitting position.
“Hey Brad, don’t you think it’s
time for us to see who this Marauder is??”
“Well of course, my brother
fair is fair.”
As they approached and began to
untie the mask, Marauder #1 began to plead and beg.
“No, guys, please, come
on. Don’t do this, anything, please
anything.” Marauder #1 was all but crying as he pleaded.
Barry reached out and stopped
Brad from untying the laces. He then
knelt down and cupped the Marauders chin and pulled his head up until he was
looking into Barry’s eyes. What the
Marauder saw portended no mercy.
Taylor reached this side of the
ring and started to step toward the group.
He then stopped, shrugged his shoulders and stepped back. The commissioner had set B&B up for a
beatdown and instead they had turned the tables. Let them have their glory. Looking over at the commissioner, Taylor
could see that he was enjoying this to no end.
The look on this face, and the tent in his pants, showed that, although
not what he had planned, this was exquisite joy to him.
“You know, Brad and I could use
a little help.”
“What, how,” a confused
Marauder replied.
“Well, a servant. A combination, maid, butler, dishwasher,
house cleaner, chauffeur, cook…well let’s just
call it what it is – a full time slave.
And just to make sure you get some outdoor activity, a valet for future
matches.”
“No, no, come on…” he began to
reply.
With a slight nod from Barry,
Brad began to untie the laces again.
“Okay, Okay I’ll do it,” the
defeated Marauder said. “Just don’t expose me now or ever. And I have responsibilities….”
“Okay, we have a deal. And we will let you fulfill your other obligations. And this deal will last until you decide to
end it.”
“What, how…” a confused
Marauder said.
“How will you decide to end it?” Barry asked, “By you
exposing who you are.”
Brad and Barry both just
laughed. The Marauder was stunned,
terrified and mortified. At all costs,
he couldn’t let himself be exposed. So,
he simply nodded and then just sagged.
All the fight had gone out of him.
Brad and Barry stood, pulled
the Marauder to his feet and pushed him in the direction of the ring exit. They walked by Payton still curled into a
ball. Marauder #1 kicked him in the butt
as he walked by. The group then left the
cage to the overwhelming roar of the audience and returned to the locker room
where Marauder #1, or Boy, as he was now
called, was to begin his duties.
Taylor came around and tried to
help Payton to his feet, but Payton resisted. “No, No, they can’t know who I
am.”
“Too late for that Einstein,
not only do they know who you are, they know that you are hung like a stallion,
not circumcised and have big balls.” Taylor
laughed.
Still Payton refused to
budge. Knowing that he could just leave
him, he thought what fun was that. So, Taylor
removed his shirt and draped it over Payton’s head. He then managed to get him to his feet with
his hands cradling and hiding his genitals.
Taylor led him out of the ring with one hand on his arm and one hand
squeezing his ass. Payton was too out of
it to care at this moment.
When Taylor had removed his
shirt, the commissioner almost swallowed his tongue. That was one fucking gorgeous torso on
display and you could practically see each individual muscle fiber. His mind immediately started working on ways
to make sure it was visible in the future.
Maybe seeing if Taylor wanted to wrestle. If not maybe painting the
stripes on the bare skin, or putting him in ref stripped shorts only, better
yet thongs or maybe…. The ideas were thundering through his head at an amazing
pace. None of the ideas boded well for Taylor. Taylor took Payton back to the ref’s locker
room to try and arrange some clothes.
Back in B&B’s locker room, Boy
helped them undress, stood by with their towels while they showered and then
dried them off. He helped them to dress,
all the while dressed in his wrestling attire.
When he noted that his clothes were in the car outside, they told him
don’t worry about it. He wasn’t changing
but they would pick his stuff up on the way out.
Barry suddenly looked over at
Brad and said “We need to find Payton anyway and put the fear of god, or
castration, into his mind.”
“Why,” Brad asked.
“Well, we don’t want him to out
Boy’s identity here.
If he does that, we lose our slave boy here.”
“He will not,” boy said.
“Why not. After being humiliated like that and exposed,
I sure as hell would,” Brad responded.
“When we started wrestling as
the Marauder’s we tried to make sure that we could not be exposed. Something that didn’t make it into this
contract, obviously. Knowing that one of
us could get exposed, we wanted to make sure that we wouldn’t expose the other
one, so we each gave the other information that would be extremely damaging if
it got out. What I have on Payton would
be a thousand times worse than what is coming
his way from just being exposed.”
Brad and Barry both
laughed. “You two are some weird ass
fuckers, boy.”
Boy just sighed. “We both like taking risks for the thrill of
it. This was going to be our final match
and then we were moving on.”
“Well, it didn’t work out that
way, now did it? And who are you?” Barry said
as he slapped boy on the ass. “Let’s
go.”
Marauder #1 sort of shrugged
and said “I am Boy, your boy.”
Brad and Barry just
laughed. Neither one noticed the slight
movement in boy’s crotch when he said that.
The fallout for Payton Harding
Williams the IV was intense and severe.
He was removed from all the family businesses and essentially shunned by
the family. He was disinvited from most
society functions and ignored by most of his former “friends”. His acting career came to a screeching halt
as he was replaced on his sitcom and no one else would hire him.
However, although his trust fund was more than enough to keep him living in a
high lifestyle, the newspaper, journals and dirt rags had a field day. The less reputable of them invented his new
nickname “Horsedick Payton” and used it quite frequently.
Initially he was despondent,
depressed and sad. He took a little
delight in Marauder #1’s plight but did not even consider exposing him as the
fallout from that would be many times worse.
However, eventually he realized that B&B may have done him a
favor. He was now free from all those
expectations and could be who he wanted to be.
He even knew that if he wanted to be back in society, he could
eventually buy his way back in.
But that isn’t what he
wanted. He wanted something else much
more delicious –revenge. And there was
nothing now to stop him. And so, he began to plot and plan. He promised himself that B&B, Marauder #1,
and the commissioner would never know what hit them.
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