B&B versus The Masked Marauders

 

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.