Marshall's Revenge

 [This story is a 'throw back' story.  It is in the style of some of the original Mangler stories and is thus more brutal and more intense than some of the newer stories.  Let me know if you like it or not.]

Marshall’s Revenge

By

The Mangler

Marshall Winston Gould, IV seemingly had it all.  Money (he was a trust fund baby), Smarts (top of class in high school and college), athletic ability (star quarterback Division I), looks (considered extremely handsome), and fitness.  He stood 5’11” tall, weighed 200 pounds, 4% body fat and shredded so that you could almost see every muscle fiber.  His abs were an 8 pack and rock hard. 

Wrestling was his chosen profession and he excelled at it.  That is until he came to the Universal Wrestling Association.  Here he had no wins in the 9 months that he had been here and was very frustrated.  How did he end up in this situation?

Marshall had been recruited to the association by his college teammate Wiley and the other faces in the league.  Over the last couple of years, a faction had developed known as the Heel Faction (why not call yourself what you are) and they were running rampant through the league and had essentially taken over.  They would use just about any trick or tactic to win.  Wiley knew that they needed some new blood, knew that Marshall was talented and knew he loved a good challenge so he was fairly easy to convince.  Marshall’s downfall had been his mouth and his confidence.

While normally a really nice guy, Marshall had decided to create some buzz to his joining the UWA.  He sent several tapes of himself talking about how he was going to come in and save the UWA, put the Heel Faction in its place and become the champion.  The crowds ate it up as they were looking for a champion and someone they could cheer for who could win.  Unfortunately for Marshall, it had enraged the Heel Faction, especially its leader The Executioner.

The group decided that Mr. Perfect was not going to win a single match.  This was accomplished by any methods necessary -- Interference in matches, pre match workover, bribing the ref, and even getting him disqualified.  He had to wrestling one tag team match alone, as his partner had been ambushed as he arrived and was never seen in the building.  His opponents, who weren’t Heel Faction members, nevertheless took advantage of the situation and did what it took to win.

Wiley and the faces in the league were helping Marshall put an end to the Heel Faction’s reign.  So far that had not been happening and everyone was getting very frustrated.  Marshall assured everyone that he could take care of the problem if the conditions were right. He had challenged The Executioner to a singles match.  Loser would no longer wrestle in the UWA without the winner’s consent.  Of course, the loser was free to go elsewhere.  One paper the match should have been equal as The Executioner was 5’10” and weighed 225 pounds.  However, unlike Marshall he was chunkier and not shredded.  However, looks can be deceiving and he was in very good shape and he was an excellent tactician. 

Having learned his lessons (along with the lessons of the other faces in the league), Marshall negotiated a special contract.  There were several conditions placed in the contract to defeat the Heel Factions tactics:

1)      No other Heel Faction members could be in the ring area or the dressing area before the match.

2)      For two days prior to the match, no member of the Heel Faction or any other wrestlers in the UWA could touch Marshall without his consent.

3)      ANY involvement from the Heel Faction would result in a forfeit.  Any official of the league who observed anything could call it.

4)      From the time he entered the building, Marshal would have security by his side to protect against any nefarious activities from other wrestlers or managers.

5)      After the match, security would escort Marshall home.

6)      At The Executioner’s insistence, Marshall had agreed that none of his wrestler friends would be in the dressing room prior to the match.

The Executioner had readily agreed to the contract.  This should have given Marshall some pause, but Marshall was ready to give The Executioner a lesson that he would never forget.

* * * * * *

Marshall was pushed through the door and into the arena as his name was announced.  He was a little off balance still but realized that he needed to quickly get it together.  The crowd was chanting his name and cheering as he entered.  He raised his arms and strutted before the crowd.  Just the motion of raising his arms caused his abs to scream and cramp.

“What the fuck is he wearing?” “Seriously??” were a couple of the comments that Marshall heard from the crowd as he walked down the aisle.  The Jumbotron showed him as he advanced to the ring.  At one point the camera operator focused on his skimpy speedo, whose color almost matched his skin, which highlighted his package and barely managed to contain it.  When Marshall looked up and saw this on the Jumbotron, he faltered in his steps and he flushed.  He hadn’t appreciated that this was the impression he was going to make.

Realizing that he needed to get on with it and get this done, he quickly recovered his bearings and continued down to the ring.  As he stood between the ring and the barrier separating the crowd with his arms held high and strutting, he slowly turned to face the crowd. This was his first mistake.

Inside the ring, The Executioner was smirking and paying close attention.  So far his plan was working perfectly.  As Marshall turned toward the audience, The Executioner charged across the ring, placed both hands on the top rope and vaulted over the rope delivering a dropkick to the upper shoulders and back of his opponent.

Marshall felt the pressure in his shoulders as he was forced forward and down. He landed with his upper chest across the barrier separating the audience from the ring.  The breath was knocked out of his body.  The Executioner picked Marshall up, upended him and dropped his right shoulder across the barrier in a shoulder breaker and dropped him to the mats around the ring.  The Executioner quickly pulled Marshall up, locked his right arm behind his back and then charged him toward the ring slamming his right shoulder into the corner ring post.  Marshall dropped to his knees where The Executioner drove a kick in between the shoulders dropping him to the floor.

The ref managed to get down onto the floor with the two wrestlers.

“Hey, back it up asshole, the match hasn’t started yet,” He screamed at The Executioner as he tried to push him back.

“Well then, let’s start the fucking match,” was the reply.  He sidestepped the ref, grabbed Marshall by a handful of hair and threw him under the bottom rope and into the ring.  He and the ref then slid into the ring.

As soon as the two of them were inside the ring, the bell rang signifying the official start of the match.  The ref shot the evil eye to the bell attendant who just smirked.  By ringing the bell as soon as both wrestlers were in the ring, he had earned himself a $500.00 bonus from The Executioner.

As soon as the bell rang, The Executioner slid back outside the ring, He grabbed Marshall by the right wrist, pulled Marshall so that his arm was almost completely outside the ring and began to slam the right bicep into the ring post.  He delivered a series of such slams before the ref started to count.  He continued right up to the count of four and then stepped back.  He rolled back into the ring, grabbed Marshall by his ankles and pulled him back into the center of the ring.  He grabbed a double handful of hair and pulled Marshall up.  He lifted him up in preparation for a body slam, but made sure to lock the right arm behind Marshall’s back so that when he hit the mat his arm was between him and the mat.  He repeated this slam twice more.  After the last slam. Marshall lay on his back and was having trouble moving his arm from his back.

The Executioner decided to help him, so he grabbed the wrist and yanked the arm out to the side getting a yelp out of Marshall.  The Executioner stood on the wrist with one leg while he began a series of stomps and kicks to the well-developed right bicep.  He stopped this and then did a handstand with his hands on the wrist and shoulder before dropping down with a knee into the bicep.  He again repeated this maneuver before standing up.

Marshall rolled away and used his left hand to massage his right shoulder and bicep.  The crowd was calling out encouragement to Marshall while booing The Executioner.

The Executioner pulled Marshall to a sitting position, dropped down behind him, placed his thighs around the midsection and locked his ankles.  The pressure exacerbated his already cramping and sore ab muscles.  He grabbed Marshall’s right wrist, pulled it over the left shoulder and pulled back driving Marshall’s hurting bicep into his own throat.  He was stretching out the shoulder and bicep while also impeding Marshall’s blood flow and breathing.

As Marshall tried to struggle, The Executioner took his left hand, slide it down the back of Marshall’s speedo and began to caress and stroke Marshall’s asshole.  Because of the close contact between Marshall and The Executioner this was not readily apparent to the ref or the crowd.

Marshall suddenly felt the finger on his ass delivering a pleasurable sensation.  To his horror, he felt his penis stir and begin to thicken. The shock caused him to wrench his right arm free and lean forward to try and unlock The Executioner’s ankles.

The Executioner just laughed, drove a series of three forearms across the upper back and head and pulled Marshall back up against him.  He was then able to grab he right wrist and reapply the hold.  He again slipped his left hand down the back of the speedos.

“Might as well get some enjoyment out of this, don’t you think?” he whispered into Marshall’s ear.  Marshall was mortified when he realized that his cock had hardened and the head now appeared above the top of the speedo.  The camera zoomed in close replaying the event on the jumbotron.

The crowd gasped and was unbelieving that Marshall was enjoying this – at least that is what it seemed to them.

“Fucking weirdo, getting off on being manhandled,” The Executioner screamed as he released the hold, stood up and pulled Marshall to his feet.  He pulled the right arm around to Marshall’s back as he spun him around the ring allowing fans on all 4 sides to see the cock head over the top of the speedo.  Many photos were taken.  He then charged Marshall across the ring, slamming the right shoulder through the ropes and into the ring post.

As Marshall staggered back, The Executioner again grabbed the arm, placed it over the top rope, grabbed the wrist, locked his legs around the waist and then dropped toward the mat, pulling the armpit onto the top rope and applying pressure.  Marshall left hand began hitting and rubbing the right shoulder.  The Executioner held the hold until the referee reached almost five on the count then released it dropping to the mat.  The top rope, which had been pulled downward, then rebound pulling Marshall slightly off his feet as the rope moved skyward and lifted the armpit.  Marshall screamed as the shoulder joint was impacted.

Not wasting a second of time, The Executioner hopped back to his feet, pushed Marshall back first into the rope and delivered a punter’s kick directly into his balls.  Marshall screamed, and clutched at his nuts as he dropped to the mat.

“Hey, watch the fucking low blows,” admonished the ref.

“Oops, sorry, I missed my target,” The Executioner smirked.

“Yeah, well don’t fucking “miss” again or the match is over,” the ref replied.

The Executioner grabbed both wrists, pulled Marshall to the center of the ring, placed his feet on the top of the shoulders, then fell backward pulling the arms above the head and placing stress on both shoulders.

Marshall moaned as his shoulders were strained.  Unfortunately, his abs were also screaming as all the action in the ring to some degree required the abs but being stretched out had placed added tension.  Tiring of the hold, The Executioner released the wrists, stood, pulled Marshall to his feet and then locked on an abdominal stretch making sure to also stretch out the right arm and shoulder. The advantage of the abdominal stretch was that it placed Marshall crotch and hard cock in excellent view. He delivered a series of fists and open hands to the abs.  He could tell when the blows landed, that Marshall’s normally rock-hard abs were softer than they should be.  His “security guards” had done their job and softened them up. 

* * * * * * * *

Marshall drove with Wiley to the arena.  Wiley had become his best friend in the UWA.  But as Wiley wasn’t allowed in the back, he headed to a different entrance.  As Marshall entered the building, he was met at the door by two security guards.  Both were shorter than him, but bulky and in good shape.  They both had close cropped heads.  They wore typical security guard uniforms, had no guns, but did have tasers and nightsticks if necessary.

“Hey, I am Adam and this is Don.  We are here to make sure the contract is adhered to and that the Heel Faction and the other wrestlers don’t interfere.  We want to make sure you are in prime shape for your upcoming match.” Adam had emphasized the word prime as he spoke.

“Thanks guys.  It’s nice to know that I’ll be able to teach The Execution the lesson he deserves,” Marshall replied.

“Oh, a lesson will be given tonight,” Don responded.  Marshall missed the smirk the two guards gave each other behind his back.

As they walked into the empty dressing room, Adam said “Your match is in a little over an hour, so why don’t you go ahead and get dressed out.  It will make it easier to keep a close eye on things.”

Marshall said sure and dressed out in his square cut trunks, white knee pads and white wrestling boots.  After placing all his stuff in the locker, He stood up and began stretching.

His hands were extended above his head and he was in full stretch when the taser was applied to his abdominal muscles.  He squeaked and dropped like a stone.  Wasting very little time, Adam and Don stripped off his square cut trunks and replaced them with a speedo that was about two sizes too small..  123.Prior to pulling the speedo up, they attached a tight ring around the base of his cock and balls with a light, but strong, chain dangling down which was passed between his legs.  When the speedo was pulled up the chain reached just the top of the speedos in the back. The speedo was almost the same color as his flesh and so he looked almost naked. His cock and balls were clearly outlined and barely contained.  Continuing to work, they placed a short chain between the two ankles over his wrestling boots. His hands were pulled behind his back and handcuffs were applied.  The chain from the cock ring, was attached to the chain of the handcuffs.  If Marshall pulled on them, he pulled his own cock and balls.  Finally, a ball gag was placed and wrapped around the head.

Marshall was pulled to a sitting position and a dog collar was placed around his neck with a leash attached.  Marshall had now regained most of his senses and started to struggle, but one pull on his balls halted that.

“Now stand up,” Adam said as he grabbed the leash.  “This will help us keep you close to us and out of danger from the other wrestlers.” Adam put an emphasis on the word wrestlers.  He then began walking out of the locker room via a back door, pulling Marshall along with Don bringing up the rear.  Due to the chain between his ankles he had to shuffle more than walk.  Any attempt to struggle was usually met with a gentle tap on his balls and a reminder that he was basically helpless.

The procession then proceeded down the hall.  They actually passed a UWA official, but when Adam and Don pointed out that they were following the contract and no wrestlers were involved, he just raised his shoulders and walked away.  None of the three saw the smirk on his face or noted the text he sent saying “mission underway.”

Marshall was then led to an area in the very back of the Arena at the top.  He could see down on the action and could watch whatever match was in progress but was in such a way that he couldn’t be seen by many of the fans. He was sat in a chair and then strapped down.  A guy who was dressed head to toe in leather walked over.  He then applied several patches to Marshall at various points along the abdomen.  The wires from the patches were attached to a box. 

Marshall wasn’t sure what was going on but he was soon to find out.  Suddenly he got a cramp across his abdominal muscles and tried to bend forward.  He then realized the box was a generator.  The cramp stopped as he forced air in and out through the gag.  The next cramp was much more intense.  For the next hour, Marshall’s abs were subjected to a very intense and painful electrical workout.  By the time he was released his abs were screaming in pain.  He was then led back down into a corridor leading into the Arena. There was no one else around.  The ankle chains were removed and at the last minute the ball gag and the handcuffs were removed.  The cock ring chain was pushed down and under the balls, so it wasn’t really visible even in the tight speedos.  Marshall was then pushed through the doors to the cheers of the crowd.

* * * * * * * *

Tiring of the hold, The Executioner delivered an elbow into the abs and then dropped Marshall to the mat.  He then walked around the ring showing off to the crowd and pointing out how much Marshall was enjoying this.  When he turned back to Marshall, Marshall sat up and delivered a right-hand punch into the abs. The Executioner exhaled and bent over slightly while Marshall delivered a second punch.  The Executioner staggered backward and dropped to his knees.  The crowd cheered their approval, but not as loud as when Marshall had entered.

Marshall struggled to his feet and took a step toward The Executioner who suddenly lunged forward and drove the top of his head into Marshall’s abs knocking him backward.  As he fell backward, Marshall whirl winded his arms to maintain his balance such that when he fell back into the ropes, he arms caught under the second rope bringing it up over the top rope, trapping Marshall by his arms.

The Executioner was immediately on his feet, as the two blows from Marshall where not nearly full strength and had done really any damage at all.  But The Executioner had suckered Marshall into thinking that they had.  Seeing that Marshall was trapped in the ropes, The Executioner began using his abs as a punching bag with rapid closed fists hammering into the abs. The ref was admonishing The Executioner who was ignoring him.  Finally realizing that he was prolonging the action, the ref began his five count.  The Executioner broke at 4 ½, stepped back and as soon as the ref turned to try and get Marshall out of the ropes, he stepped back in and began again.  He knew that each punch was more effective than the last as the famous abs of Marshall were being broken down.  Each punch sank just a little bit deeper.

“Step back now or this match is over,” the ref screamed at The Executioner.  123.

He stepped back and just smirk.  “Sure, I’ll give the pussy a break.”

The ref went and freed Marshall from the ropes, who then staggered back to his feet.  He wasn’t on them long, however, as The Executioner had charged across the ring executing a lariat forcing Marshall over the top rope and down to the ring floor.  As he flipped over the ropes, Marshall’s abs slammed into the ring edge and he then fell backward to the mats.  The Executioner leaped over the top ropes landing with both feet into the abs, causing Marshall to double up as spittle flew from his mouth.  Marshall had thought his abs were on fire before, but he now knew what real pain was.

The Executioner lifted Marshall up and delivered an across the knee abs breaker.  He then lifted him into a back breaker pulling down hard on the chin and the thighs applying pressure to the back and the abs.  When away from the ref, he was actually stroking the cock and balls, making sure that Marshall’s cock remained hard.

The fans were not sure why this was happening, but The Executioner was.  The Viagra which had been administered via the ball gag earlier was taking effect, much to Marshall’s detriment.

The Executioner dumped Marshall back under the ropes and hopped into the ring before the ref could reach the count of ten. Immediately upon re-entering the ring he delivered two stomps into the abs.  He then reached down, grabbed the right ankle and stepped on the left ankle.  With the legs spread wide, he began a series of stomps and kicks into the medial aspect of the thigh.  On the last kick, he aimed for the balls.

“Oops, looks like I slipped, again” The Executioner said.

“Yeah, right.  Watch the low blows,” was all the ref responded with.

The Executioner grabbed the left ankle, pulled the leg straight up in the air and fell backwards stretching the leg as far up towards Marshall’s head as he could.  This gave the ligaments a good stretch.

He repeated the move twice more.  He then delivered a series of stomps to the right knee.

Throughout all of this, Marshall’s attempts to move out of the way or sit up were ineffectual as his abs were simply screaming at him.

The Executioner made sure that he had Marshall in the middle of the ring.  He grabbed the legs in preparation for a figure four.  He hammed it up for the audience before starting to lock the hold. Marshall was able to get his left leg free and delivered a push/kick to the buttocks of his opponent.  This forced him to drop the leg and step away.  But The Executioner immediately walked back over and delivered a series of stomps to wherever he could land them, thighs, knee, abs, and chest.

He then immediately applied the figure four lock but with a variation, instead of locking his leg under the thigh, he left his feet in the groin of his opponent so that he could softly caress his balls.  In spite of the pain, this did cause some pleasure in Marshall.  So much so that he cockhead, riding above his speedos, would lift off his abs and then plop back down.  The cameraman made sure to get a good shot of this and it was relayed up to the jumbotron.

Once the audience saw this there was a lot of boos and insults hurled at Marshall, more so than before.

Laughing, The Executioner released the figure four and stood.  He smiled at Marshall laying on the mat. He rolled Marshall over onto his front, grabbed the ankle, bent the knee and lifted it in the air.  He placed his foot on the hollow behind the knee and stomped down forcing the knee into the mat.  He did this for a total of five times, each time elicited a scream from Marshall.

He pulled Marshall to his feet, where he had some difficulty standing.  He grabbed the leg, bent it back, wrapped his arm around the waist.  He then lifted Marshall up into the air and dropped the bent knee and leg down onto The Executioner’s knee.  He then grabbed Marshall in a bear hug, charged across the ring and slammed his back into the corner.  He then draped the arms over the top rope.  He grabbed the middle ropes and then began to drive his shoulder into the abs.

The ref began the count and at 5 The Executioner broke, stepped back and then began again.

“Break the fucking hold now, or that’s it,” screamed the ref.

The Executioner stepped back and just looked at the ref as he checked on Marshall.  He walked to the corner, grabbed Marshall in a headlock charged into the ring and drove Marshall’s forehead into the mat.  He then picked him up and positioned him for a what everyone thought was going to be a piledriver.  Instead, he charged into the ring corner again, then trapped the ankle over the top rope and under the turnbuckle placing Marshall in the tree of woe.

He then stepped back and began delivering a series of stomps into the abs.  Marshall’s abs, his pride and joy, where no longer providing much protection and were in extreme pain.  The Executioner had managed to break the rock-hard abs completely.  As the ref counted, he took his final opportunity and delivered a double tomahawk blow directly into Marshall’s nuts.  He only stopped when forced to by the referee.  While the ref could have called the match due to the frequent nuts shots, this was rarely ever done and the ref certainly wasn’t going to do it in this match as so much was one the line.  Plus, like the crowd, he was a little disgusted that Marshall seemed to be enjoying this.

The ref released Marshall from the Tree and he slumped to the mat.

The Executioner pulled Marshall to the middle of the ring, placed him on his stomach pulled his arms over his knees, placed his hands under the chin, sat back and pulled placing Marshall in a textbook camel clutch.  This applied pressure to the back and abs and pushed his hard cock into the mat.

The ref asked Marshall if he wanted to submit.  Marshall hesitated and was considering it.

The Executioner leaned forward and whispered into Marshall ear, “you submit without my permission asshole, and the Heel Faction will have to take out our aggression on your brother.  Don’t think his being in the lower leagues will protect him.”

Marshall moaned and shook his head no.  His younger brother, Theodore, was starting in pro wrestling but was still in a developmental league and had only been there for a short time.

When the ref asked again if he wanted to submit, Marshall responded with a no.

The Executioner then dropped the camel clutch.  “Time for the next indignity,” he whispered so only Marshall could hear.

He was pulled to his feet and locked into an abdominal stretch.  Standing on his one leg was painful, his back was in pain, his abs were in agony.  But his cock was still rock hard.

The Executioner slipped his hand down the back of the speedos, reached under and began to massage the perineum and the asshole.  In spite of the pain, Marshall was experiencing a wave of pleasure coursed through his body.  His cock began to respond.

“Please, no don’t do this, please…” Marshall began to plead as he realized what was happening.

The Executioner just laughed, “You are the one doing it, not me.”

Marshall tried to power out of the hold but could not.  His abs simply did not have the power at this point. The camera did a close up on the groin and suddenly without warning Marshall began to orgasm shooting a large amount of cum out of his cock.  The ref jumped back in surprise and the crowd began booing and hurling insults at Marshall.  There were few if any fans who were not joining in.

“What the goddamned fuck,” Wiley and the faces asked as they watched from the side.  “The son of a bitch is enjoying this??”

The Executioner just laughed. 

“Damn never had someone cum like that in the middle of the ring while getting the shit beat out of him,” The ref responded.

“Dude must like it,” was all The Executioner said.

He then dropped Marshall to the mat where he landed on his stomach.  The Executioner began to stomp into the lower back.  A deafening roar came from the crowd as they shouted “stomp, stomp” and clapped in rhythm.  As Marshall rolled around, he smeared the cum over his chest, abs and face.

The Executioner stopped, forced Marshall to his back and delivered several stomps to the abs.  Each blow felt like a cannon ball to Marshall.  The Executioner then stepped over Marshall reached down and locked a claw onto each pec with his fingers extending under the pecs in the armpits.  With a show of strength, he then lifted Marshall from the mat and lifted him in the air.  He then shook him back and forth like a dog with a bone.  He walked Marshall over to the ropes and dropped him down tying his arms between the top and middle rope.  He stepped back and began to chop and punch into the pec muscles.

The ref was exceedingly slow to get over to the pair.

“Come on man, let the man out of the ropes,” he intoned, but he made no attempt to assist Marshall or even to start a count.  The crowd was cheering with each punch.  When The Executioner stopped Marshall’s chest was reddened. 

His opponent then released him from the ropes and Marshall dropped to the mat.  The Executioner rolled him to his side, reached down and locked a double pec claw on the right pec.  He cinched down as hard as he could.

“Please man, no more, please no more,” Marshall stated.

“Is that submission?” the ref asked.

“Remember your brother,” The Executioner said to Marshall.

“No, no submission” Marshall sobbed.

The Executioner dropped the claw and stood up.  He looked down at a pitiful looking Marshall and got a sinister gleam in his eye.  The message had been delivered but some more fun was at hand.

The Executioner placed Marshall in a leg scissor around the waist, pulled both arms around the neck in a Japanese chock hold.  When Marshall appeared to be succumbing to the hold, The Executioner released one arm and reached down the back of Marshall speedo and began massaging again.  Marshall cock responded again to the jeers of the crowd.

The Executioner decided the time had come for a second humiliation.  He maneuvered Marshall into a flyer surfboard which stretched out his abs and put his groin and exposed cock in full view.  He pulled the chin down and wrapped one hand around it.  He used his other hand to reach up and manipulate Marshall nipple causing a pleasure pain sensation until Marshall ejaculated for the second time.  The Executioner rubbed his had in the cum and smeared it over Marshall’s face.  The crowd was going crazy demanded that The Executioner , “destroy him.” Any Marshall fans had now changed sides.

“Well recruiting him was fucking waste of time.  What a goddamned loser,” the faces said and they looked on is disgust.  Most of them turned and walked away, shaking their heads.  Wiley stayed.

Marshall was moaning and quietly pleading but refused to submit.  The Executioner dropped the hold.  For the next several minutes Marshall was placed into a Boston crab, a guillotine and then finally into a Boston crab.

“Want to be allowed to submit,” The Executioner asked.

“YES, YES,” Marshall screamed.

“Okay, you agree to answer a series of questions later tonight, no more than ten, and I will let you submit if you admit during you submission that I am superior, and you are an inferior man and a shitty wrestler.” As he said this, he motioned toward the announcer’s table.  One of the announcers realized what he wanted and walked to the ring with a live mike, placing it in front of Marshall.

Marshall tried to hold out, but finally reached his limit.  “I submit, sir to a superior man.  I am inferior in every way especially as a wrestler.  Please no more, I submit.”

“Fucking A.  You certainly are.  You’re a piece of shit.” And other phrases were screamed from the audience members.  There didn’t seem to be a single Marshall fan left.

The Executioner dropped the hold and had his hands raised as the winner.  The crowd applauded The Executioner and jeered Marshall.  The Executioner had managed to reverse the crowds’ cheers and jeers.  Something that the faces in the league would have thought impossible if they had not seen it themselves. 

Once the winner was announced, the security guards from earlier approached the ring.  The contract stated they had to escort him back home.  They each reached under the ropes, grabbed an ankle and jerked.  Unfortunately, they had each grabbed a leg on the opposite side of the ring post so that when they jerked, Marshall’s balls were slammed into the ring post full force.  As he wasn’t aware what was happening he had no chance to prepare.  When his balls impacted the post a high-pitched scream was heard.  In spite of the pain in his abs, Marshall had sat up and then dropped back down to the mat.  The crowd roared there loudest all night.  The two guards pantomimed horror at the turn of events but were really laughing.

They got both ankles on the same side of the ring post and reapplied the ankle chains from earlier.  He was then rolled over and the handcuffs were reapplied with the link from the cock ring coming out the back of the speedos and being attached.  A collar and leash were applied and Marshall was walked out of the arena to the loud jeers from the crowd.  They made sure to walk close enough so that fans could punch and fondle Marshall.  The crowd cheered and applauded as a restrained Marshall was led out.

When he entered the back, he was immediately confronted by Wiley.  “What the fuck dude?? You enjoyed the hell out of that? What sort of a sick fuck are you?  You were supposed to be helping us, no getting your goddamned rocks off.”

“Hey man, I was set…” Marshall started before Wiley gave him a hard slap across the face.

“Fuck off dude.  You embarrassed the hell out of all of us.  We all put our reputations on the line and you assured us our trust was well placed.  We all now look like idiots.  And we have no more trust in you.  Get home on your own.  And thank God you want be wrestling here anymore.  And probably not anywhere else except maybe some underground league.” He then turned and walked away. Marshall saw no more friendly faces in the back.

As Wiley turned, one of the security guards said “We have to escort him home, so he should be good.” Wiley just waved his hands and kept walking.  To himself Adam said “doesn’t say he has to go straight home.”

The 3 went back to the locker room where Marshall’s keys were picked up.  The remainder of his possession were locked back into the locker.  The procession of the two security guards and Marshall proceeded out the back door of the arena.

“Hey, I need to get dressed.  I can’t go walking around like this,” Marshall complained.

Adam turned and walked up to Marshall.  “Do I look like your goddamned valet? We were told to escort you home and that is what we are going to do.  I don’t want to have to spend any more time with your pathetic loser ass than I have too.  Besides, you’ve already shown everybody everything.  So shut the fuck up and let’s go.” He then tapped Marshall forcefully in the balls.

Marshall grunted.  Adam turned and began to walk.  Due to the ankle chains, their progress was slow.  They exited the alley onto the main street and began walking in the direction of Marshall’s apartment.  There were honking horns and cat calls out of car windows.  This isn’t a site you usually saw on this side of town.  Marshall was mortified.

When they were about half way to his apartment, the procession took a sharp turn down a dark alleyway.

“Hey, this isn’t the way home,” Marshall said.

“Don’t worry about it, just a short side trip,” Don laughed.

As they walked down the dark Alley, Marshall saw a pool of light cast by a single bulb over a door. When they got to the door, Adam rapped on it with his night stick.

Marshall looked at the faded sign on the door and it said “The Evil Wrestling Academy”.  The door was opened by an older in shape bald headed guy.  He looked family to Marshall but he couldn’t place him.

“Your late,” was his comment.

“Sorry Killer, but The Executioner had a little more fun than he anticipated.”

When Adam said the name Killer, it snapped into place that this was famed pro wrestler Killer Bulldog.  He had a long run as the top Heel in the UWA.

“What is going one here,” Marshall asked?

Killer turned, look at him and said “you’ll see in a minute.”

Shortly they walked through another door and Marshall found himself in a large gym with two wrestling rings set up.  There were several wrestlers in each ring.

One of the wrestlers yelled “Hey it is Mr Ejaculation himself.  Quite the performance in front of all those people and the internet.  Coming to get wrestler tips, creepo?”

Marshall moaned as he heard the word internet.  He had forgotten that the match was televised and knew there were many permanent recordings of it and his humiliation.

Killer laughed and responded “Not quite right.  He is here to help give you GUYS some wrestling experience.  He is here to show you how to apply holds properly.”

“What the fuck,” Marshall started before Killer spun around and drove a large fist into Marshall’s already hurting and deflated abs.  He bent and dropped to the floor.

Adam and Don removed the handcuffs and leg chains and took seats.  Killer reached down, grabbed Marshall by the hair, charged down toward the ring, and slung him under the bottom rope.  Marshall ended up in the middle of the ring.

Killer pointed at one of the student’s and said “You show me a Boston grab on this loser”.

Without any pause, the wrestler walked over, turned Marshall over and applied the Boston Crab.

Marshall began to demand to be let go.  His demands turned to pleas. 

Killer had entered the ring and walked over.  “No, NO, NO.  That is sloppy as hell.  Get the ankles higher up into your pits.  Sit back a little higher on his body and pull.” A scream erupted from Marshall.  “This gives you more leverage.  Now stand up a little, step toward his head and pull harder.” Marshall screamed again.  His abs were on fire and his back was strained.  “See this way you can get a bigger curve of the back, more pressure and some exposure of the abs.  Plus, if you have a tag team partner, he can do this.” Killer then kicked his boots into the abs.

Marshall begged to be let go.  His begging was ignored.  For the next five hours he taught the students how to apply proper holds.  Well, Killer taught them and Marshall demonstrated.  He was subjected to Boston crabs, Camel clutches, abdominal stretches, figure four locks, choke holds and anything else that Killer could think off.

At the end of the session the students were sent on their way.  Killer took a clipboard and walked over to Marshall who was sitting in the corner whimpering.

“Man, having you here was a great help.  So, I have a contract for you to come in 3 days a week to help teach.  Minimum wage, and you have to supply your own gear.” He laughed when he said “Teach” and Marshall knew what that meant.  “I just need to you sign here.” He pointed at a line.  Marshall shook his head no.

Killer just sighed.  His hand suddenly shot out and locked on a ball claw and he began to increase the pressure.  “I have no compulsion about flattening them on a freak like you.  So, sign the damned contract.”

Marshall held out until the pain became too much.  He then signed the contract.  It was then passed to two other people in the room, who signed as witnesses.  Killer released the claw, grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Marshall up.  He then delivered a power slam, and exited the ring.  Marshall was barely conscious.  Looking at the security guards he said “He’s all yours.  Take him home.”

Adam and Don laughed and walked up to the ring.  In a repeat of their earlier performance, they each grabbed an ankle and  yanked Marshall crotch first into the ring pole.  The pain helped revive him as he let out a scream.

“Damn man.  You’d think we would figure out how to do this properly,” Dan said to Adam.

Adam laughed, “Must be the couple of beers we had.  Come on let’s get this over with.”

The handcuffs and chains was reapplied and Marshall was shuffled home.  The early morning on their way to work crowd got quite the site.

Marshall sighed with relief when they approached the door of his apartment.  His sigh turned to fright when the door opened and The Executioner was standing there.  As he was led into the apartment, he noted two other members of the Heel Faction were there.

“No more, no more.  I’m done, please I’m done”, he begged.

The Executioner just tapped him on the check gently and said  “Don’t worry.  You just have to answer a few questions like you promised and we will be on our way.”

“Anything, anything, let’s just get this over with.”

Marshall was sat in a chair with the two Heel Faction members on each side.

“Okay first question: what is your email password?”

“I’m not giving you that,” Marshall replied.  One of the Heel Faction stepped over, grabbed the right arm, twisted it up Marshall’s back, putting pressure on his biceps and his balls via the chain attached and began a series of punches into the already bruised Biceps.  Marshall quickly shouted out the password.

Over the next half hour, Marshall revealed his username and password to twitter, Instagram, snapchat, and Tik Tok. The Executioner went in and modified each password, and where possible the username, to one that only he knew.

The Executioner then went into Twitter and redid Marshall’s photo ID and settings. On Twitter the photo was the one of him in the ring ejaculating as he was being punished.  It was a full body shot, face and all.  A short video of that was made his pinned twit so it would be the first thing anyone looking at his account would see.

His profile was changed to read:

Muscular masochist. Love to be dominated and humiliated.  The harder and more intense the better.  DM me to set up sessions.

Marshall was horrified when he saw that and even more so when he realized that he couldn’t change it.  And without control over his email, it was going to be hard to convince anyone that it was his account.  Within their limits, each of the other apps were changed too. Online Marshall Winston Gould, IV was fucked.  All his family and friends subscribed to those sites.

“Okay man you upheld your end of the bargain so we are good.  Oh, don’t even think of not honoring that contract you signed earlier or your brother Theodore will pay a price.  As well as you getting hit with the $1,000,000 dollar penalty for nonperformance.”

Marshall just looked at The Executioner and almost cried.  He said nothing.  They then released him from his bondage.

As the Heel Faction started to leave the apartment, The Executioner turned around and said,  “Hey, would you look at that.  It’s time for you to be at the Wrestling Academy to teach.  We’ll give you a ride.”

At the thought of what was going to happen, Marshall tried to back away. However, his resistance was squelched with a fist to the abs.  As he was being led out, tears ran down his face.  He knew that he was truly fucked.

After dropping Marshall, off at the Academy, The Executioner made a phone call.  “Hey, he is all set.  I’ve gotta say I liked that a lot and am sorry I didn’t think of anything other than humiliating him in the ring.”

“Yeah, that was bad enough, but I wanted to destroy him and we have.  He was always the golden boy, and could do no wrong.  But not so much now,” Marshall’s brother Theodore laughed.  “I owe you one.”

“Just remember that, boy,” The Executioner replied.  Even though he couldn’t see it, Theodore trembled with a little fear as he could hear the threat in the voice.