On our team, only Adam and I were left; Paola, Whitney and Helen were left for the women. Luckily the rules limited the match to only one fighter for each team in the ring at once, which at least limited their numbers advantage - but our opponents would always have two wrestlers in reserve to our one. They also would get a minute of double, er, triple teaming in their corner, while we'd only get 30 seconds in ours - a rule I didn't really understand the thinking behind, but there was nothing I could do about it anyway.
On the downside I was completely gassed, exhausted and sore from my match, in addition to my defeated opponent almost sucking my soul out via my dick. I was going to need a good long rest - Adam would be on his own to start off. He was already in the middle of the ring, playing to the crowd and taunting our opponents. The women conferred for a moment before sending out Paola to start, possibly because she was the freshest having won the first match of the night; she got between the ropes, wearing just her red bikini bottoms, facing off with Adam, stark naked and already erect. Our opponents hadn’t forgotten what he’d done to their teammate as Paola shook her finger at him, telling him she was going to teach him some manners while he just smirked at her. She stepped up to him and aimed a big slap, which Adam blocked with his forearm; this turned out to just be an opening distraction as she kneed him in the crotch. He covered his balls, slightly hunched over, and she gave him a wicked backhand; this looked painful, but maybe she should have gone with a punch or something more high-impact as Adam responded with his own knee to the crotch, a move Paola clearly wasn’t expecting, screaming in shock. Adam grabbed her shoulders, bending her over and slamming his knee into her stomach. He wrapped his arms around her, bearhugging her and lifting her off the mat, squeezing her and shaking her back and forth. She tried to escape by kicking him, but she couldn’t get any power into her kicks, and she slowly gave up on them; she couldn’t find an escape, her struggling becoming weaker and weaker until she leaned back in his grip and went limp. Adam gave her a few more shakes and then ran forwards a few steps, slamming Paola down to the mat, his body on top of hers, crushing her between himself and the canvas. He quickly pulled her back standing, shooting a smirk over his shoulder at her teammates before grabbing the sides of her bottoms, yanking them up and giving her a monster wedgie. This brought her around with a scream as she started dancing on her tiptoes trying to minimize the discomfort, apparently with little success. She tried pulling her bottoms back down, but Adam’s superior strength made this impossible for her; with a grunt he actually lifted her off the mat (I expected the bottoms to break, but they held her weight) and gave her an atomic drop, slamming her weight down on his outstretched knee.
Paola shrieked at the impact, rolling off Adam’s leg - he released her bottoms - and rolled onto her right side, gingerly picking her suit out of her ass and crotch as Adam played to the booing, jeering crowd.
“You having some trouble there, granny?” he shrieked at his opponent. He went over to her and pulled her bottoms off, stopping to sniff them like a creep before dismissively tossing them over his shoulder. He backed up a step and launched a kick into Paola’s stomach, hitting her with enough force to roll her over, gasping. He got two handfuls of her long hair and pulled her up to her knees, contemptuously smacking away the desperate, sloppy uppercut slap Paola aimed at his balls. In return he grabbed her ears and slammed his knee into her face. This move had worked great against Cyndi, and it seemed just as effective on Paola; he gave her a second one and I could see she couldn’t even stay vertical on her own power. Adam, gloating, switched to a two-handed grip on her neck, viciously choking her; Paola weakly grabbed his wrists but couldn’t come close to breaking the hold. I wished there was a ref to break this up as I was afraid Adam was really going to hurt his opponent badly, her eyes bugging out as she uselessly pulled at his arms. Adam, sniggering, lined his dick up with her face and started fucking her mouth. Paola drooled and choked on his cock, her head bouncing back and forth as Adam pistoned his cock between her lips. “You thought you’d get to suck me off, bitch?” Adam yelled at her. “How do you like this, huh?” She couldn’t answer, of course; she barely managed a gagging moan around his shaft.
For a second I was worried Adam was going to destroy himself by cumming in his opponent’s mouth, but he threw Paola down before that happened. She gagged for a second before coughing up a gob of spit, rubbing her neck - I could see big red marks where Adam had squeezed - as he circled. Paola got up to one knee and Adam charged her from behind, aiming a kick at the back of her head - Helen screamed a warning from her corner and at the last second Paola ducked out of the way, leaving Adam to miss his kick so hard he fell down. Paola started frantically crawling towards her corner, but she only made it halfway before Adam caught up with her, grabbing at her hips; she threw a blind donkey kick backwards, hitting Adam in the jaw, sending him flying backwards. A rising tide of excited cheers issued from the crowd as Paola made it to safety, slapping Whitney’s outstretched hand.
This seemed like a good time for us to switch as well; I’d managed to recover fairly well, and I didn’t want Adam to overdo it - he still looked a little wobbly after the kick he’d just eaten - so I called for a tag; Whitney, who’d climbed into the ring, answered me for Adam: “Forget it, kid! He’s not getting outta this ring alive!”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” Adam hissed as he circled Whitney. “I’m gonna break you with this white cock.”
“Oh, yeah? Come do it, pussy!” They closed; Adam had his fists up to box and started throwing punches at Whitney, but she backed up, using her long legs to start laying in kicks to Adam’s lower half, peppering his legs and hips with quick hits, keeping out of his punch range; her kicks didn’t look super hard, but as she kept unleashing them I could see Adam slowing; the kicks Whitney was landing to the sides and back of his knees in particular seemed to be hurting him pretty badly.
“Fuck!” Adam screamed after she got another one of these on his right knee. “You old fucking bitch! Stop running away and come fight me!”
“Make me,” Whitney laughed. With a scream Adam lunged at her, but she ducked back, jumping and landing a massive kick, her rising foot slamming into Adam’s chin, sending him flying backwards. He landed heavily on the mat and Whitney was right there, stomping on his knees; Adam yelled in pain, reaching down to cover his legs with his hands. Whitney simply switched targets and slammed a very painful-looking stomp into Adam’s face, leaving him laying flat, covering his nose and mouth with his hands. Whitney got his ankles and started dragging him across the ring - not to her corner, to my surprise, but to a neutral one - helping him to his feet, then shoving him into the corner back-first, hooking his arms over the top ropes. Whitney grabbed the middle ropes for balance and blasted him with a few hard kicks to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him, leaving Adam winded, only his arms resting over the top ropes to keep him standing.
“You gonna see some shit now!” Whitney promised me, releasing the middle rope as she started working Adam over with kicks. She unleashed every kind of kick I’d ever seen - side kicks into his ribs and legs, roundhouses that rocked his head, straight kicks into his crotch, the top of her foot smashing his balls up against his hips. At first I thought the roundhouses to the head would knock him out, but it looked like the real damage was the repeated crotch kicks; I could see Adam’s balls starting to swell up, and he went from yelling in pain to just whimpering whenever Whitney landed one of those. The few times he tried to come off the ropes she’d blast him with one of her crotch kicks, and he eventually gave up trying to get out at all; by the end he was just hanging off the ropes, a sweaty beaten mess, beyond any resistance.
Finally Whitney decided he was demolished and stepped up to my partner, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him off the ropes, throwing him down to the mat like a sack of garbage; Adam came to rest on his front, not moving. Whitney stopped to spit on him, then grabbed his ankles and dragged him over to her corner. Someone in the back must have done something, and a large digital clock started counting down from one minute (although with no ref to enforce this, I wondered what would happen if they just kept at him when it got to zero). All three women got into the ring; they pulled Adam up to his feet, Whitney bending him over with a kick to his stomach, then Helen pulled his head between her legs and lifted him up, his head pointed towards the mat and his feet sticking straight up; she backed up into the corner, Whitney jumping up to the top rope behind her, grabbing Adam’s feet; they were going to do a spike piledriver on him. The irony wasn’t lost on me that they were going to destroy him with an even more powerful version of the move he’d unleashed on Cyndi.
But instead of hitting the move, they just held him there as Paola came over. She grabbed his cock - it had gone limp during Whitney’s beating - and started getting him hard, making a ring with just her thumb and index finger and working her hand up and down his shaft. To my amazement he started getting hard again; there were still 52 seconds on the clock (it seemed to be running very slowly) when Paola took his cock into her mouth and started blowing him. I don’t know if Adam could have gotten out of this if he wanted to, but it was a moot point as he just hung there in Helen’s arms as Paola worked him over.
Could he beat the clock? I counted how long it took to go from :48 to :47 - one mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi, four mississippi, five mississippi, six mississippi - no, there was no way he could beat a clock that slow; her was toast. I looked back at Paola’s lips sliding up and down Adam’s rod; I guess there were worse ways to go. To my partner’s credit he made it to :22 before blowing his load; Paola wanted everyone to see it and pulled her mouth off his dick at the last second, sticking her tongue out and finishing him with a few quick strokes, catching most of his load on her face, although a few strands got into her hair. She released him and backed up a few steps, and her teammates hit the spike piledriver; Helen slammed Adam’s head down into the mat, while Whitney jumped off the top ropes, using his feet to add even more force. Adam flopped down in a boneless heap; he was finished, and the double-team clock went back to :00.
But they weren’t done with him yet, roughly pulling him up to his feet and stuffing him in the corner. Paola got outside the ring, trapping his arms against the ropes - or maybe just holding him up, I don’t know - while Whitney laid down on her back, lifting her legs up and catching Adam’s still-hard cock between the soles of her feet. Helen walked around the ring whipping up the crowd as Whitney worked Adam with a humiliating footjob. To my surprise, Helen ended up wandering over to where I was standing, leaning against the ringpost. She reached down and took my dick into her hand, casually jerking me off: “You enjoying the show?”
“Uh, not really,” I gasped.
“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. Well, won’t be long now, I don’t think. Then it’s your turn!” she chirped. “Now keep this nice and hard for me, you hear?” She released me and went back to her corner, watching Adam’s final destruction at Whitney’s feet. Helen’s prediction turned out to be pretty accurate; Whitney was applying the fastest footjob I’ve ever seen, her soles flying up and down Adam’s dick, and his night was finished as she forced him to cum, milking long spurts that fell on the mat, Whitney’s shorts, her legs, and some on her feet. After he was done she braced her left foot on his right thigh, then used her right foot to start kicking Adam in his swollen, bruised ballsack; he let out a pathetic scream, struggling helplessly against Paola’s arms holding him still. Whitney got in a half dozen kicks, the last few hitting his nuts so hard she forced out more cum; Adam’s body jumped with each kick, the first drawing a scream, then pained grunts, then nothing as he mercifully passed out. Paola released his arms and he slowly slid down the turnbuckle. Helen pushed him out of the ring with her foot, and he hit the mats lining the floor outside, laying there out cold.
Damn. I’ll admit to feeling afraid as Helen pointed at me with a smile: It was my turn. I got between the ropes to face her, praying whatever the women had in store for me was less brutal than my vanquished teammate.
Paola and Whitney got out of the ring, leaving me with Helen; we met in the center of the ring and my opponent offered me a lockup. I hesitated for a second; she was strong, but I doubted she was as strong as me, and I went for it, cautiously, suspecting a trap. Helen entwined her fingers with mine and we started pushing against each other. Sure enough, she was strong but I was stronger, and after a few minutes of us struggling against each other I started getting the advantage; I could see her arms quivering as I began to slowly force her hands down with a shout of triumph. That’s what Helen kicked me in the crotch, her cowboy boots smashing into my balls. I screamed and she easily pushed me down to the mat, sitting on my chest and smiling down at me: “Sorry, sweetie, but if you ain’t cheatin’, you ain’t tryin!” She reached back and cupped my aching nuts: “Hope I didn’t hurt your little apricots too bad!” She hopped off me, hauling me up to my feet with a “Up you go!” and threw me at the ropes. I bounced off and she aimed the same dropkick she’d hit Malik with at me (man, that felt like forever ago) - there was no way to stop in time, but I managed to duck while running and her feet flew over my head; she landed on her back with a thud, and I heard Whitney emit a bark of laughter at her partner. By the time I managed to chug to a stop and turn around Helen was back on her feet, and she didn’t seem amused. She waved me on and I closed with her cautiously; she was in a grappler’s stance, ready to grab me. I had some idea of copying Whitney’s technique against Adam, but using punches instead of kicks; I saw myself peppering Helen with jabs, dancing back away from her as she got sweaty chasing me around the ring until I knocked her out.
This was a nice dream, but I guess never that realistic. Whitney had probably been doing this longer than I’d been alive, and she had decades of experience to my hours; I did manage to nail Helen with a hard jab to the ribs, but she powered through it and grabbed me, her right arm going between my legs as she lifted me up, then slammed me back down to the mat. This wasn’t the most powerful move, but Helen used it to set me up for her next one as she ran backwards into the ropes and bounced off, charging at me. I rolled away from her, thinking she was trying to do a legrop and she’d miss and land on her butt; instead, she ducked into a summersault, then back to her feet, then hit me with a splash.
Now Helen didn’t weigh nearly as much as Sally, but she still had all of her momentum from the ropes, and this knocked the wind out of me; before I could even start getting up Helen leapt to her feet and started putting her boots to me. She really knew how to use these to inflict maximum damage with each stomp; she concentrated on my upper body, avoiding my head - I assume she didn’t want to knock out any teeth or break my nose - working over my shoulders, chest, and stomach. The one time I tried to get up she hovered her right boot over my balls, and that was enough to get me to lay back down and take my stomping. (Maybe she was bluffing; I couldn’t afford to find out.) Before I could try again she’d stomped the wind out of me - I’ve got strong abs, but they could only take so many full-force hits from the chunky heels on her boots - and after she saw that I was gasping, she worked on my shoulders more; by the time she laid off and let me stand up, they were hurting so bad I could barely get my hands up into a guard. I’d also lost quite a bit of speed as Helen came in on me, knocking my hands away, landing a short uppercut into my aching stomach that bent me over. She went around behind me and I felt her hands on my shoulders; what the hell was she doing? She leapt up on my back, scissoring her arms around my midsection, then grabbed my wrists and forced my arms up and back painfully. This was something called a rodeo hold - I’d seen it applied in training, but I’d forgotten if we’d been shown any escape for it; even if we had, I didn’t know if I’d have the strength for it; my arms and shoulders were on fire, and Helen’s scissors on my aching midsection was icing on the cake; I think she meant to punish me with this hold for a while, but I only made it about a minute and a half before I sank down to my knees, trying not to cry at the pain Helen was inflicting on me.
“Hey!” she yelled down at me. “Get up! We’re not at that part yet!” For some reason, I tried to do as she said, my legs shaking with effort; it was too much and I was too hurt, and although I managed to get up to one knee, I ran out of gas and fell straight forward, landing on my chest with Helen still on top of me. She rolled us over, pulling me up to a sitting position, with her sitting on the mat behind me; her arms switched to a simple but very effective sleeper, her right arm squeezing my neck, her legs still scissoring my midsection. Normally I’d have no problem just pulling her arm away from my neck, but she’d worn me down; I was out of breath and any force I tried to exert made my shoulders spike with pain. I swear I could hear her laughing as I helplessly tugged on her arm. My vision started going dark; I felt my hands fall away, down to the mat, and Helen applied one last burst of strength, crushing my midsection with her legs, bearing down on my neck with her arms.
She released me before I passed out, but I was beyond fighting back; I felt her dragging me over to her corner, then I felt six female hands on my body, pulling me up to all fours. I started slowly coming around, looking up to see Whitney standing over me and smiling. She bent down and patted me on the head: “We’re gonna finish you off now, kid. Make it easy on yourself, don’t try any dumb shit.”
Well, I couldn't even if I wanted to and just nodded. Whitney stepped forward and got me in a standing headscissors, wrapping her long, strong legs around my head. I grabbed her at the knees, honestly more to stabilize myself than anything else; I sure didn’t have the power to even try to escape, and I knew it was pointless anyway. To my intense relief, she only squeezed a little bit, enough to keep me where I was and give me a warning that she’d really put the hurt on if I tried to escape, but no more - she clearly wanted me to feel every second of what was coming next.
Helen was standing to my right, and I felt someone behind me gently easing my legs apart - must’ve been Paola - and gasped as she grabbed my cock in a two-handed grip. She started jerking me off me with fast, twisting strokes; all I could do was hang on to Whitney’s thighs as her partner milked me. “Yeah, he’s done, girl!” Whitney yelled over my back at her partner. Paola was supposed to be the oral specialist, but she was quite good at this too; I tried to hold on - I don’t know why, really, since they weren’t going to let me go until I came, wether that was ten seconds or ten minutes - but Paola’s long, quick, teasing strokes broke down my resistance quickly, and it wasn’t long before I started spurting on the mat, Paola working my cock through my climax. Her hands gradually slowed, but never completely stopped - she must’ve wanted to make sure I stayed hard for whatever they had planned next, which they started discussing - arguing about, really - over me while Whitney still had the headscissors and Paola was still holding my shaft. They agreed that they wanted to get me flat on my back, but after that:
“I’m the blowjob expert!” Paola yelled. “Let me do it!”
“Girl, you already made him squirt once! You still got his dick in your hand! And you’re not the only one who can suck a cock here! You wanted to blow him? You had your chance, it’s my turn!”
“Fine,” Paola pouted. “I get to sit on his face then.”
“Take your seat, girlfriend,” Whitney told her, finally releasing me. They flipped me over on my back - graciously not making me lay in the wet spot I’d deposited on the mat - and sure enough Paola came around to my head, squatting over my face with a big smile.
“You ready for this, sweetie?” she purred. I nodded as if my opinion meant anything (looking back I wonder what would have happened if I’d said no), then took a deep breath, bracing myself as she slowly lowered her wide hips over my head, until she sat on my face with a happy sigh, pressing her pussy into my mouth.
I couldn’t see what was happening, but I felt a warm pair of lips kiss the tip of my cock; this must’ve been Whitney, and I groaned into her partner’s snatch as she started sucking my cock, her mouth moving teasingly slowly down my shaft. At the same time Paola started moving her hips, grinding her crotch over my nose and mouth.
What I didn’t expect was another pair of hands pushing my buttcheeks apart; before I knew what was happening I felt what must have been Helen’s tongue start licking my asshole. it felt great, but also tickled in a way I hadn’t experienced before; I didn’t dare try to close my legs or kick, but I couldn’t help but squirm, so I reached up and grabbed Paola’s hips to steady myself as the women worked me over. The sensation was driving me crazy between Whitney’s slow sucking strokes and Helen’s tongue running around my hole, every so often darting into my ass; when she did this my waist jumped, bringing me deeper into Whitney’s mouth. Noticing this, she stopped for a moment, I think inviting me to fuck her mouth as she held still; at least I hope so as I accepted her invitation, giving her a half-dozen pumps before she put her hand on my thigh, stopping me from moving my hips and going back to sucking me off. Helen changed to pistoning her tongue in and out of my ass, raping me with her mouth; after a minute of this she forced her tongue all the way in, pressing it against my prostate. I don’t know of any man alive who could survive that, and I certainly didn’t, blowing a huge load in Whitney’s mouth, both women continuing to toy with me until my ejaculation finished, the power of my climax leaving me even more drained than usual. Then they climbed off me and I was too beat to even move; I was sure this was it, but to my disbelief they started discussing getting another cum out of me:
“What do you think, he can go again, right?” Helen asked, reaching down and cupping my balls.
“I’m sure,” Paola giggled. “He’s young, isn’t he? You have something in mind?”
“Please,” I interrupted, begging. “I can’t cum anymore!”
“Oh, pish,” Helen scoffed. “I know you got another one in the chamber for me. Whitney, why don’t you hold him down?”
“Sure,” Whitney purred, sitting on my stomach, leaning forward and getting me in a loose titsmother. I felt someone licking my cock - Paola or Helen I don’t know - getting me to full extension again; then I felt Helen lowering herself onto me, the tip of my cock against her entrance; I could see just enough to tell she was going to do me reverse cowgirl style, then I was moaning into Whitney’s tits as her partner slid all the way down on my cock. Having cum three times, my dick was getting a little numb, and Helen went right to slamfucking me from the word go, her hips flying up and down as she rode me. I reached up and wrapped my arms around Whitney’s torso, just holding on for the ride as Helen had her way with me. I don’t know how long I lay under there; I’d believe two minutes or two hours, but inevitably Helen got what she wanted as I felt my balls starting to tingle, my hips weakly thrusting up as she brought me close to the edge, then she pushed me over; I managed what felt like a few weak spurts into her pussy. She kept fucking me through my climax and then after, stopping only as I began to get a little soft and fell out of her pussy. Whitney released me and I found myself staring up at a smiling Helen: “See? I knew you had it in ya!” She was right as a single strand of cum slowly oozed out of her pussy, the sign of my ultimate defeat. The three women left me there and took a victory lap, striding around the ring, hands up in victory, whipping up the crowd; I tried to crawl out of the ring without them noticing, but Whitney saw me, walking over with a chuckle: “Where you going, kid? I’ll decide when you can leave!”
“Can I leave?” I whined pathetically.
“What do you think!” Whitney screamed at the audience. “Can this chump leave?!” The crowd roared a no, and Whitney put her foot on my chest, holding me there and beckoning over Helen, who picked me up, carried me over to the ropes like a baby, lifted me over her head and teased throwing me out of the ring from there; I breathed a sigh of relief as she brought me back down, lowered me to the mat, and pushed me out of the ring with her foot. I hit the ground on my back, barely having enough energy to use the ring apron to pull myself to my feet and make it back up the ramp, followed by the catcalls of my victorious opponents and the taunting jeers of the crowd.
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