Note: This is a continuation of the story that was started below.

PART 2

Danny’s life would never be the same after his night of humiliation at his old high school. He knew he couldn’t return there for many, many years. His mom tried calling a few times after the match, but he never picked up and she eventually stopped. Danny just couldn’t talk to her now, knowing she had witnessed him being dominated in the ring. For now, and for the next few years, he feared, his life belonged to Watson and Watson’s sadistic desires to see him humiliated on national TV and in high schools and arenas across the country.

Shortly after the high school debacle, Watson took Danny to a tanning salon, telling him he wanted his hot body to be tan and not farmer white. Danny didn’t mind this. As they entered the salon, an incredibly hot girl in her early 20s waited on them. She was perky, had huge tits, a great tan herself, and eager to help.

“Hey guys, what can I do for you?”

Before Danny could speak, Watson broke in. “Hi. Danny here needs to tan, and we’ll need a couple of sessions.”

“Ok,” the girl said, and she explained the pricing, though she thought it was kind of weird that the older man was doing all the talking while the cute young guy just stood there like a dummy.

“You can go into that booth,” she told Danny, who started walking toward the door.

“Wait, Danny,” Watson said. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” With that he reached into his gym bag and pulled out a skimpy floral Speedo. The girl giggled to herself and stared in wide-eyed wonderment as the older man held the ridiculous bikini in his fingers. Danny stood there stunned. The girl had no problem with gay guys, much of their clientele was gay, but the idea of this hot guy wearing that skimpy, girlish bikini, was too much for her. She couldn’t stop giggling. Maybe he was a crossdresser or something. Too bad he was “taken.” She would have enjoyed flirting with him whenever he would have visited the salon.

“It’s okay if he wears this right?” Watson asked the girl.

“Yeah, definitely,” she said. Danny grabbed it from him and, defeated, walked into the tanning salon. After the session, the girl said goodbye with a laugh. he returned several more times until he had a great tan. A great tan except for the complete whiteness where the bikini was.

“Now, everytime your wrestling trunks get grabbed Danny, it’ll be even more humiliating as the bikini tan will be so obvious.”

Danny knew it was true. The rest of his body was a great golden brown, but he was albino white around his butt, hips, and balls. And he had no doubt audiences across the country would see this newest humiliation.

Watson dictated Danny’s life in other ways. He was now in charge of the jobber boy’s haircuts, taking him for regular appointments to a barber he knew, who was a big pro wrestling fan…especially of jobbers. The old barber loved pinning the pink cape around Danny as he sat obediently in his chair and awaited his haircut. Watson kept the hair fairly long, so that the heels would always be able to control Danny by his boyish locks. Many of the heels loved manipulating the jobbers by their hair, and it always turned Watson on to see a heel with a handful of jobber locks.

Danny kept alternating between the WWF and WCW, meaning he was dominated on TV in front of different audiences and at the hands of a wide array of wrestlers. A TV taping against the Million Dollar Man Ted Dibiase was just another day in Danny’s new, degraded existence. Watson told Danny that he’d get to get a little action in again and not just be a tackling dummy, but Danny knew that any offense he put up in these matches would never result in a victory.

Danny waited in the ring as Dibiase was led to the squared circle by Virgil and was accompanied by Sherri Martel, his newest manager. The cocky Dibiase climbed into the ring and taunted the crowd while pointing at Danny, decked out in his pink trunks. Dibiase grabbed the microphone from the ring announcer and addressed his jobber boy opponent.

“Listen punk. I know that everyone has a price for the Million Dollar Man, and I think you’re no different. I’m going to offer you three hundred dollars to simply lay down before the match even starts and I’ll put a boot on you for a three-count. You won’t get hurt, you won’t get embarrassed, and you’ll make more money than you probably do in a week.”

The crowd booed at Dibiase’s blatant attempt to buy the jobber. Danny walked toward Dibiase and saw him holding the three hundred dollar bills. Danny took them in his hand as Dibiase told the crowd, “See. That’s it boy. Take the money, put it into your trunks for safekeeping and lay down.” Danny clutched the money in his hand, and obediently pulled the front of his trunks open and stuffed the three bills down the front, near his tiny jobber cock. He heard Dibiase laugh. “Now just lay down boy.” But instead of doing that, Danny attacked the heel, punching Dibiase, and then drilling the stunned Virgil with a right hand. Martel came from behind and hit Danny in the head, but it didn’t faze him. He didn’t believe in hitting women, but he grabbed Sherry by the back of her pants, gave her a little wedgie of her own, and slung her over the top rope. Seconds later, he deposited Virgil next to her and set his sights on Dibiase, who was still rolling on the mat after receiving Danny’s punch. Danny scooped Dibiase up into a body slam and dropped the veteran to the mat. Danny faced the crowd and urged them to cheer him on, which they obliged. THey hated Dibiase and his cocky ways.

He hip tossed Dibiase into a corner and as he stood up, came flying at him with a drop kick that sent Dibiase flying into the turnbuckle. He prepared to send Dibiase into the opposite corner, but Dibiaase reversed the youngster and sent him hurtling into the turnbuckle. A half second after Danny turned his back into the corner, Dibiase was flying into him with a devastating clothesline that connected right to Danny’s throat, sending him head over heels to the mat. Danny struggled to breathe as his windpipe felt like it’d been crushed. Dibiase, now pissed, delivered three kicks to the back of Danny’s head with his black boots. He stood the youngster up and took him to the center of the ring. He hooked Danny’s arm and latched onto the silky pink trunks. He held them for several seconds – on TV, announcer Gorilla Monsoon was telling the national audience, “Look at Dibiase cinch the suplex in. He’s really got ahold of the youngster’s tights” – letting Danny realize what was about to happen. Danny waited to be lifted up, and when it came he came crashing down on his back. Dibiase collected the pussy jobber and took ahold of the back of his trunks, sending him flying over the top rope, the same rope Danny had tossed Martel and Virgil over just minutes earlier.

Danny laid on his stomach, gasping for breath, just inches away from a jeering crowd that was now giggling at the sight of Danny’s trunks being lodged up his ass. In front of him he saw Sherri standing. “Where the hell is Virgil,” he wondered to himself. He then heard Dibiase yell from the ring, “Virgil, get that piece of garbage and throw him back in here.” Wait, where is Virgil, he again wondered. Behind me? Before he could look, he felt Vigil’s strong hands grabbing ahold of the top of Danny’s waistband and pulling up, utterly humiliating the jobber and forcing the pink trunks painfully in his ass. Danny grunted as the crowd cheered and flashbulbs went off. A young woman in the first row with a perfect view of the festivities yelled, “Cute tan, Dannyboy.”

Virgil held him in that position for several seconds, holding his prey. Little did Danny know that a cameraman was standing directly behind him, perfectly capturing a shot of the 21-year-old’s ass for the TV audience. Not to mention the obvious bikini tan the kid had. Virgil held him as Martel aproached. She slapped Danny in the face with a yell, and then kicked him in the gut. Danny started going to his knees, but Virgil held on to the trunks, furthering Danny’s wedgie and keeping the kid from falling. Virgil loved moments like this. He wasn’t happy with his role as Dibiase’s right-hand man – he felt he could be a contender as a solo wrestler – so he had to find amusement whenever he could. Dominating jobber boys like this was one of the times he enjoyed his role.

Virgil finally took ahold of Danny’s brown hair and stuffed him back under the bottom ring, where Dibiase awaited. Before Danny could adjust his trunks, Dibiase took him up and flung him into the ropes. Danny’s wedgied ass bounced off the ropes and he came running toward Dibiase, who caught him in a powerslam. Danny could feel the older heel’s hand on his nearly bare ass as he went flying through the air and crashing to the ground. He laid there for a few seconds before finally getting to his feet.

Dibiase crept behind his young victim and slapped the Million Dollar Dream on him, his version of the sleeper that always put jobber boys under. He swung the defeated jobber viciously as Danny felt his air constricting. There was no escape and Danny knew it. He felt himself going out and finally dropped to the ground after the ref had called for the bell.

He layed there on his back, trying to regain his bearings. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Virgil and Martel entering the ring as well. Dibiase yelled to his servant, “Virgil, get my money back.” Get his money back? Danny didn’t understand. The money was lodged in the front of his trunks. Virgil reached down and pulled the front of Danny’s trunks up. Danny felt his hand reaching down the front and feeling for the three bills. His cock was lightly touched as the valet grabbed the money and put Danny’s trunks back. The crowd was loving it.

“Here’s how you’re going to get your money boy,” Dibiase yelled. With that, he reached down and stuffed all three bills into Danny’s open mouth. Watching backstage, Watson jerked off as the veteran heel stuffed three bills into the jobber’s open mouth, and pushed them deeper down his mouth with his finger. There Danny laid. Prone, pink trunks wedged up his ass, money protruding ridiculously out of his jobber mouth. The same money that had been nestled against his cock just minutes earlier. Danny felt a tear running down his cheek, from the pain, and the humiliation. The cameraman zoomed in on that and captured it for the audience to see, along with the greenbacks stuffed into the kid’s mouth.

“Another victory for the Million Dollar Man,” Monsoon told the TV audience as the last shot before commercial was Danny’s money-stuffed face, “and another victim of the Million Dollar Dream

***

Danny was almost relieved as he stood in the lockerroom and listened to Watson tell him his opponent for that night would be against the Iron Sheik. He knew the Sheik was tough, but he’d seen several of his matches and noticed that the guy rarely grabbed his opponent’s trunks. Maybe, for one night at least, Danny would escape the humiliating wedgies and trunk pulls that had come to define his existence. Maybe he could just take quick beating and that’d be it.

He went through some stretches while standing in his trunks and white boots. His match was still an hour away. He was talking with some other jobbers and even a couple of the friendlier heels. All of a sudden the locker room door flew open and in stormed the Iron Sheik, already wearing his small red trunks and pointed, should-be-illegal boots. Danny felt his stomach rumble a bit. The sheik was bigger than he was expecting, and whether it was the bald head or the mustache, he was a bit more intimidating than he’d anticipated. The Sheik was yelling now, “WHERE’S DANNY ROGERS? WHERE’S DANNY ROGERS?”

What? Danny wondered to himself. What the hell does this guy want now? He slowly raised his hand as the Sheik walked toward him and said, “Danny Rogers. I’m here for my prematch workout.”

What the hell was he talking about?

“I don’t understand,” Danny said. The Sheik grinned as a crowd of other wrestlers gathered around the pair. “Before every match, I put you jobber pussies through some paces to get warmed up for the match. It helps me understand how much you weigh and gives me an idea of what I’ll have to do once we’re in the ring.”

“Come on, man,” Danny said. “We don’t have to do that.” The Sheik got up close to Danny’s face and Danny could smell alcohol on the Sheik’s breath. He’d obviously been drinking. Great. He looked at Tommy Angel who was standing nearby in his white trunks. “Sorry kid, the sheik does like to do this.”

Danny couldn’t believe it. He’d never heard of such a thing. And how were they supposed to do anything in the small confines of the locker room? Before he could think anymore, the Sheik’s pointed boot came up and drilled Danny in the stomach, doubling him over. The Sheik grabbed Danny by the head and rammed him face first into a locker like a high school bully picking on a nerd.

The other wrestlers were oohing, but one did say, “Come on Sheik, knock it off.” The Sheik completely ignored the request, and, holding Danny’s head in the locker, slammed the door on it. The Sheik then snapped a quick suplex on Danny, slamming his back onto the filthy locker room floor. He stood up and kicked Danny in the gut. He picked up a gasping Danny and effortlessly lifted for a bodyslam. Instead of dropping him, he carried him into the shower area where he slammed the jobber onto the floor as the other wrestlers trailed behind.

Finally two wrestlers stepped in and ushered the Sheik away. Tommy Angel helped Danny to his feet. “Sorry about that kid. THat guy’s a little crazy.” Danny readjusted his trunks that had been grabbed during the suplex and rubbed his throbbing head, which had been victimized by the Sheik and the locker.

45 minutes later, Danny was in the ring against the Sheik. The Sheik yelled his anti-American rants at the crowd and spit on the ground. Danny jumped up and down nervously, his beating from earlier still fresh in his mind. He had no doubt that the Sheik was still drunk and had no idea what the crazy man would do. The sight of Danny’s pink trunks seemed to simultaneously enrage and arouse the Sheik. The Sheik himself couldn’t wait to get his hands on Danny. The time in the locker room had not been enough. If he’d had his choice, he’d have ripped the tiny trunks off this kid and fucked him up the ass in front of the other wrestlers. He felt his large cock growing in his trunks as he looked at the fresh piece of jobber meat across the ring from him.

The two met in the center of the ring and Danny locked the bald Sheik into a headlock. He grinded it a bit, trying to get at least a shred of payback for the earlier lashing. Unfortunately for Danny, the Sheik was in no mood to mess around. With Danny holding for dear life to the headlock, the Sheik lifted him up backwards and dropped Danny on his head. He picked Danny up and walked to the turnbuckle, where he put his pointy boot and proceeded to ram Danny’s forehead into. The Sheik did it again in the other corner. Danny felt a trickle of blood on his forehead and wanted to know what in the hell was in the Sheik’s boot. The Sheik then slapped a devastating bearhug on the pink trunked jobber. The pain in Danny’s ribs was excruciating. He couldn’t breathe and he literally thought the Sheik was maybe trying to kill him. Just when he thought the pressure was easing, the Sheik would cinch it in some more.

Danny instinctively felt his legs lifting and wrapping around the Sheik, a ridiculous looking move that looked like Danny was a child wrapping around his daddy’s torso. The crowd gave a huge pop as Danny was lifted like this. Danny finally got his legs to drop but he was only standing because the Sheik held him firmly. Danny’s strength had been completely sapped and he was like a wet noodle in the Sheik’s powerful grip.

The Sheik held that position for several minutes, until he was satisfied the fight had been taken out of the jobber. Now he could truly have his way with this pansy. Danny could feel the sheik’s cock rubbing against his as they stood face to face. The Sheik then lifted Danny into a belly-to-belly suplex that further destroyed Danny’s back and ribs. Danny rolled around on the mat as the Sheik again stood up and shouted his anti-American rhetoric before spitting on Danny, who felt the saliva hit him in the chest.

Rising to his feet, Danny found himself being twisted into another painful submission hold, an abdominal stretch. Danny was stretched beyond belief as the Sheik cinched the hold in. When the ref wasn’t looking, the Sheik took ahold of the right side of Danny’s trunks and yanked up, giving him added leverage and adding to Danny’s embarrassment. Danny barely registered that the side of his trunks had been put up his ass and that his white rear was now on display. He was just trying not to cry out from the pain that was dominating his world. His entire side and stomach felt like it was being ripped apart. Again he could feel the sheik’s hard cock rubbing against him, this time on his back as he held the hold for several minutes. The ref asked Danny if he gave up, and Danny thought about doing it. But he also knew the match was not supposed to end like this. The crowd had come to see the Sheik’s clutch, and Watson had told Danny he’d have to endure it, no matter what pain led up to it.

Releasing the jobber boy, the Sheik went behind Danny and lifted him for a belly-to-back suplex. Danny landed awkwardly on his head, and the momentum from the throw sent him toppling over so he ended up on his stomach, the top half of his body under the ropes. The next thing he knew, the Sheik had grabbed both of his feet and was pulling him toward the center of the ring. Danny was helpless to stop it as his carcass was dragged against his will, his pink pantied cock being rubbed on the canvas. The Sheik dropped his feet as the crowd started cheering. Danny knew the dreaded camel clutch was coming. But he was helpless to escape. The sheik kicked danny’s legs apart. Again, the Sheik thought about how delicious it’d be to take this kid from behind in front of the crowd.

He lifted the jobber’s arms and draped them on his knees. He grabbed ahold of the jobber’s chin and yanked back. Danny’s back felt like it was breaking. He made eye contact with someone in the crowd who was taking a picture of Danny’s face, which was a portrait of misery. AFter about 20 seconds, Danny screamed out that he gave up and the ref rang the bell. But the Sheik held onto the hold for another 30 seconds, until finally releasing the defeated jobber.

The ring announcer climbed into the ring and announced the winner. The Sheik angrily grabbed the microphone.

“Iran No. 1,” he yelled, “USA, phooey,” and with that he again spit on the prone jobber. Finally, Danny began crawling toward the edge of the ring as the Iranian madman continued his rant. Finally he threw down the mic and posed in the center of the ring. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Danny slithering away. The Sheik wasn’t done. He marched over toward the ropes. Danny was nearly out, he’d crawled forward on his stomach until his head and top of his back were under the ropes. Suddenly, he felt the Sheik grabbing the top of his trunks and pulling them down, keeping the jobber in the ring and mooning the crowd. He released the trunks after the depantsing but they were now lodged halfway down Danny’s ass. THe crowd went wild as the jobber was exposed. Danny was aware of what had happened, but had no chance to fix them. The top half of his crack was now fully exposed as the trunks resided toward the bottom of his cheeks.

The Sheik again took Danny’s legs and dragged him to the center of the ring. The Sheik himself was now rock hard in his trunks, a fact that was obvious to more than a few audience members. The sight of this young jobber half naked – nearly entirely naked – in front of him, on his back, was too much. He again sat down on Danny, this time a little further down so that his hard cock was resting against the top of Danny’s exposed ass. Danny could feel it digging into him as the Sheik cinched the camel clutch in again, tearing Danny’s head back and holding him by the chin. The Sheik refused to release danny, even after several minutes. Finally, several other wrestlers from the locker room came running to the ring to pull the madman off. As they escored the drunk heel from the ring, Danny felt one of his fellow jobbers helpfully pulling his trunks up his ass to save him further embarrassment.

The punishment he took that night from the Sheik would put him out of action for a couple of weeks, as his back was simply too sore to compete. Watson missed having his favorite jobber humiliated each week, but he made sure he was always in his office, still being milked before the cards, still wearing his pink trunks so he wouldn’t forget how they felt.

***

Watson was introducing Sid Justice to the world and he loved his new monstrous heel. For all Watson knew the guy was loaded up on steroids, but he could really destroy his opponents, and the crowds were in awe of him. He wanted to put the vicious new wrestler in a handicap match. Except, unlike many handicap matches that were usually against two jobbers, Watson wanted to use three. And he definitely wanted Danny to be one of them.

So as he returned to the ring Danny found himself standing in the squared circle with two longtime veteran jobbers: Tommy Angel and Red Tyler. Angel was decked out in his small white trunks that had been abused throughout the years, while Tyler was wearing his lime green spandex ones that had once resided up his ass during a match against Mr. Perfect. THey all stood nervously in the ring as the music started and the giant Justice strolled to the ring, clad only in his black trunks. As Justice stepped over the top rope with ease and turned to the crowd with arms raised, the three jobbers stormed the big man, hoping to catch him offguard. They pounded on his back for 10 seconds as Justice ducked his head and took the beating. It had no effect. Finally he turned around and kicked Angel in the stomach, doubling him over. He blocked one of Tyler’s punched and hammered a huge head butt that sent him backward. Danny kept punching and Justice let him get a few more in to his stomach but he stood there, feeling nothing. Tired of the jobber’s attempts, he latched onto Danny’s throats with both hands and effortlessly lifted him by his neck, choking him as Danny’s feet dangled two feet off the ground. Justice dropped him and again roared to the crowd as the three jobbers in their small trunks rolled in their agonies in front of him. He grabbed Angel and Tyler and rammed their heads together. Justice then grabbed Danny and threw him with avengeance into the turnbuckle. Danny was planted there from the sheer force of the throw. Before he could move, Justice had scooped up Angel and was firing the blonde-haired, white-trunked pussy into the same turnbuckle as Danny. He turned at the last second and his back was planted into Danny’s chest. Finally, he grabbed Tyler and completed the tosses by firing Red into the corner. As Tyler richocheted into Angel, he stumbled forward two steps and fell facefirst. Angel then walked two steps and fell, followed inevitably by Danny.

Justice reached down and pulled Tyler up by his hair with just one hand, another example of his awesome strength. Using just the hand on the hair, he ran toward the ropes and flung Red over the top one as the jobber crashed onto the floor below. Angel was next, but Justice threw him over a different rope. Finally it was Danny’s turn. Danny landed against the concrete railing on the outside. He was motionless for a few seconds. As he lay prone, a middle-aged woman in the front row reached through the bars and ran her hand up the side of Danny’s pink trunks. He registered that her friends were laughing and complimenting her on “touching his panties,” but he couldn’t move away.

Justice had deposited the three jobbers on three sides of the ring. It was a nice touch, Watson thought to himself as he watched in the back. He regretted not sending a fourth jobber out there, could have had one on each side of the ring.

Justice climbed over the top rope and dropped down to the floor, first addressing Tommy Angel. He scooped up the small jobber and put him over his shoulder before sprinting into the steel corner of the ring, leveling Angel’s head against the barrier and dropping him to the floor, nearly unconscious. Danny could hear the crowd going nuts so he figured Justice was working over his partners, but he still found it tough to move. The landing on the floor had taken a lot out of him, not to mention the choking from before.

On the other side of the ring, Justice picked up Angel and scooped him up into a military press, clutching the bottom of the spandex white trunks and holding them above Angel’s ass. He did this with one arm and did a 360 degree turn in front of the crowd, giving all sides a view of his domination of the jobber. He then lifted Angel even higher over his head and tossed him like a sack over the top rope and back into the ring. The crowd was amazed the display of raw power. Tyler’s turn was next.

Justice methodically strolled to the side where Tyler had been sent flying. He backed the redhead up to the apron and delivered a devastating chop to the chest. Instantly, Tyler’s chest went red and he fell to his knees. Justice picked him up and rammed him head first into the rail, just like with Angel. What’s good for one is good for all, Justice thought to himself. By now the crowd knew what was coming next. They anticipated it as Justice brougt his hands under Red’s crotch and gripped the green trunks and lifted the jobber high above him. Again spinning in a 360, the crowd got another look at a jobber on display, his ass hanging out as the trunks wedgied up his ass. Justice threw him over the top rope and into the ring as the crowd went wild in awe.

Danny had finally staggered to his knees and was holding onto the mat under the bottom rope so he had a view of Tyler being thrown unceremoniously into the ring. He actually tried climbing in, not wanting to be subjected to the same humiliating military press that he’d experienced so many times already and that his partners had just been lifted into. But he was still aching so much from hitting the railing that he didn’t have the strength. He was still on his knees when Justice approached his side, his eyes flaring in roid rage. He took ahold of Danny by the side of the head, firmly grasping those wonderful brown locks, and yanked him up to his feet.

With his face just inches from Danny, Justice began yelling at the frightened, bewildered jobber. With each word, the spit flew into Danny’s face as he stared into the eyes of a man who could, if he really wanted, probably kill him right then and there.

The TV camera caught every word.

“LISTEN YOU LITTLE PUNK. HOW DARE YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SID JUSTICE. NO ONE CAN HANDLE ME. NO ONE. NO ONE IN THE WWF.”

For the third time, Justice put a jobber on his shoulder and sprinted toward the ring post. Totally unprotected, Danny could do nothing but close his eyes as his head approached the steel. Justice hammered him into it and Danny went down. When he looked up from his back, everything was dizzy. When someone did that move, they were supposed to ram their opponent shoulder first, not headfirst. But Justice apparently played by different rules. He was still dizzy and only half aware as Justice reached beneath him and hoisted him up effortlessly into the military press position. Justice lifted Danny’s pink trunks six inches above his ass. The entire crowd took pictures as they stared in wonderment. Danny could only see blurred faces because of his ringing head, and it was probably for the best. That way he didn’t have to see the smirking men, women and children who were reveling in his humiliation and the destruction of his fellow jobbers.

With a heave, Justice threw Danny into the ring with his fellow jobbers, who were all seeing stars. All three laid there with their trunks up both cheeks. None of them reached back to adjust the trunks because they were all too dazed to be fully cognizant of what was happening.

But Justice wasn’t done.

Going to Tyler, he picked up the jobber like a sack of potatoes, held him upright for a second, and then stuck his head between his legs, like he was going to give him a piledriver. But instead of lifting him for that move, Justice brought him up for a powerbomb, holding him up by his face for just a few seconds before slamming Tyler onto the back of his head, neck and back, knocking the jobber out.

Now it was Angel’s turn. Danny’s cobwebs were clearing slightly and he looked up to see Angel’s wedgied ass on display and his head stuck between Justice’s massive, sweating legs. Justice reached to Tommy’s gut and lifted him up. Danny cringed as Angel too was brought down in a powerbomb, also knocking him out. Danny feared for his safety now, but there was no escape. Not ever.

Justice grabbed him and shoved him between his legs. Danny was held in that position for a much longer time than his fellow pussy jobbers because this was the final act of Sid Justice. He wanted the crowd to remember what they’d just seen. So he held Danny in that position and manuevered him so that each side of the ring got a look at the bent over young jobber, and his pink tights. Justice finally picked Danny up. Danny felt himself being lifted and now he was up above Justice’s shoulders, but he knew it was a long way down, like anticipating a drop on a rollercoaster. Justice flung Danny down with anger. As Danny’s head hit, he instantly lost consciousness for a few seconds, just like his fellow jobbers.

It was now only time for the pin. But it wasn’t the end of the humiliations. Justice toook Angel by the arms and dragged him toward Tyler’s prone body. He laid Angel across Red’s groin, so that Angel’s lower back was resting on Tyler’s jobber cock. Their splayed bodies formed a T, Tyler lying vertically, Angel horizonatally across his partner’s midsection.

Watson watched in amazement. Even he hadn’t thought of this final touch. He’d have to give Justice a little bonus money.

Now Justice took Danny, but first flipped the boy onto his stomach. Only then did he take his arms and drag him over the jobber pile he had constructed in the middle of the ring. He positioned Danny right on top of Angel, but Danny was laid stomach down, so his cock was touching Angel’s through their trunks and his wedgied ass stuck up ludicrously. It looked like the two jobber boys were sleeping on top of each other, with Tyler bearing the weight of both on the bottom. Justice kneeled down and put a hand on Tyler’s chest, and the other on Danny’s bare ass cheek. The ref counted to three.

“COUNT TO NINE, THREE FOR EACH,” Justice screamed at the ref. The ref obliged, hitting the mat nine times before Justice finally stood up.

The KO’d jobbers were powerless to disentangle from the jobber meat mountain they’d formed in the center of the ring. After a few minutes, EMTs came to the ring, each bearing three stretchers. Carefully the jobbers were laid onto the stretchers. The female EMTs couldn’t help smiling to themselves as they worked with the jobbers, whose trunks were still firmly residing in their asses. They especially liked young Dannys’ look.

The jobbers were being taken back in single file formation like war wounded. Justice, who had been yelling at the fans and watching the injured jobbers being taken out on stretchers, suddenly ran down the walkway and knocked Angel off his stretcher, then Tyler and finally Danny. The EMTs scrambled away in fear as the wrestlers writhed on the blue mat covering the concrete. A WWF official tried getting between Justice and the jobbers, pushing his chest and telling him to get back to the locker room.

“That’s enough, Sid. Get out of here.”

Justice responded by shoving the official down. He yanked Angel up and effortlessly lifted him into a choke slam onto the blue mat. Tyler was next, followed again by Danny. Justice took all the stretchers and slammed them onto the jobbers, then jumped on them, stomping them with the stretchers that were supposed to take them to safety.

The official finally got off his back and pushed Justice back and told him he was going to be banned from the WWF if he didn’t return to the locker room. Justice finally relented and walked back, leaving destruction in his wake. Three jobbers in his wake. Three wedgied pussies in his wake. As Danny was carried back to the lockerroom by the EMTs, all he wanted to do was sleep for a week and escape the torture that Watson had delivered yet again.

***

Damn it, Danny thought to himself. He kept looking at his car’s clock, watching the minutes tick by. He was stuck in Atlanta traffic, and he was supposed to be at the WCW studio in less than 15 minutes. He’d overslept, but thought he’d still have time. That was before he saw this traffic. He called Watson in his office.

“Mr. Watson, it’s Danny. I just wanted to let you know I’m going to be a few minutes late for the taping.”

“I’d make it on time if I were you, Danny,” Watson cooly responded.

“But Mr. Watson, it’s the traffic, it’s terrible. I’ll do my best.”

“If you’re late, there will be consequences, Danny. Just remember that.”

Watson hung up and left Danny wondering what in the hell that cryptic comment would mean. What consequences could be worse than the degradations that he’d had to deal with as a jobber? He was certainly nervous for that night’s match. It was going to be a tag team battle against Arn Anderson and Barry Windham. The tiny TBS studio that filmed WCW meant the crowd was right on top of you and you could hear every insult, and Danny had heard them all as the pink-trunked pansy of the WCW. He knew Anderson and Windham both liked to grab the trunks. His only hope was that his partner, Brian Walsh, would get the worst of it.

Danny finally made it to the studio. 30 minutes late. As he ran in, he was met by Walsh, a fellow jobber.

“Danny, Watson is pissed. he had to push our match back and rearrange the schedule. Get to the locker room and get dressed.”

Danny did and was soon in his white boots and pink trunks. Watson came in.

“I told you there’d be consequences if you were late,” he said. “After your match, I want you and Walsh back in my office.” He walked out and left Danny wondering what was to come.

Fifteen minutes later Danny and Brian were jumping up and down waiting for the arrival of Arn and Barry. Brian was wearing red spandex trunks. He watched Danny out of the corner of his eye. he loved this young piece of meat and had jerked off many times to his humiliations. he’d gone through many of the same things, but nothing like Danny had had to endure. Tonight, Danny thought he might be escaping that, but Walsh knew better. Watson had told him that it would be Danny who would take the brunt of the punishment. Perfect, thought Walsh. I get paid the same amount and he takes all the pain and humiliation.

Watson watched from his office and knew that at that moment, in homes across the country, a certain niche of the wrestling fanbase was racing to hit record on their VCRs. WHen they saw two jobbers like Walsh and Rogers trotted out for destruction at the hands of known dominators like Windham and Anderson, that was a match that needed to be kept in the video library.

Walsh started off against the veteran, hairy Anderson, who’d long made a career out of slowly, methodically dominating young jobbers. And Windham was even better at it. The two locked up in the center of the ring aand exchanged a volley of headlocks, shoulder blocks, and hip tosses, with Walsh giving as good as he was taking. He actually gained the upper hand and tagged Danny in, who continued to work over the veteran. As Danny held a chinlock, the crowd actually began chanting, “Danny, Danny, Danny.” They were getting behind him. Danny was going to tag out in a minute. But Anderson stood him up and sent him flying into the ropes. Danny bounced off and came at Arn, who dropped to his stomach as Danny leaped over him. As Danny went into the opposite ropes – where Windahm was standing – he was brought to his knees as Windham lifted his leg and delivered a knee right to Danny’s lower back. That’d be the end of the offense, and even as he rubbed his back, Danny knew his partner Walsh would not be taking any punishment. it would be him. Like always.

Anderson tagged in Windham. The tall Texan slowly stepped into the ring with a smirk on his face. He already felt his cock stirring in his small black trunks. His dad, Blackjack Mulligan, had told him there was nothing more enjoyable than destroying young jobbers, and he’d discovered the same thing. yeah, wearing the WCW tag team belts was cool and got him a lot of women, but nothing was as satisfying as taking these sissies in their tiny trunks and showing them what real men are like.

Cockily chewing his gum as he walked toward Danny, Windam hauled him up and threw him back into the ropes. Danny bounced off like a rubber ball and was greeted with a back bodydrop. Windham put an extra oomph into it and Dany went way up in the sky before falling. Windahm scooped Danny up by the hair and sent him off the ropes for a third time. This time, instead of a body drop, he used Danny’s momentum, put his hands on the young jobber’s muscled, bare chest and lifted him off the ground, before he fell face first onto the mat. Danny landed awkwardly and hit his balls on the mat and curled into a ball.

Windham stood him up, clutched onto the rear waistband of the silky trunks and fired Danny over the top rope. As he landed, Danny went on his back and adjusted the trunks out of his butt, hoping that few would notice it since he did it while laying on his back. Anderson dropped down from the apron and kicked Danny right in the stomach, leaving him gasping and rolling. As he was on his stomach, Anderson mounted him and started slapping the back of Danny’s head. Once, twice, three times. The whole time he was taunting the kid, telling him there was much more to come. he then grabbed Danny’s head and rubbed his face on the concrete. The burn on Danny’s prettyboy face was excruciating. Anderson lifted Danny’s head up by the hair so Danny was looking into the near camera.

“Take a look, Dusty Rhodes,” Anderson yelled into the camera, calling out his most hated rival. “This is what’s going to happen to you at SuperClash.” with that he brought over a camear cord, wrapped it around Danny’s neck and started choking him.

The TV color announcer said, “Yeah, Dusty Rhodes will be there, Arn. You’re not going to beat him like you are this poor youngster. Stop the choke hold, ref!”

Danny felt himself blacking out as the pressure from the cord dug into his neck. Anderson finally let him go and lifted him up by the seat of his trunks and fired him back under the bottom rope, again giving Danny a wedgie. As Danny was taken in by Windham, he went to again adjust the wedgied trunks, but Windham actually slapped his hand away. As he backed Danny into the ring corner, he leaned in and whispered to the pussy, “Might as well leave those pink panties up your ass, boy, because they’re going to be there all night long.”

Danny understood. He understood his humiliation was far from over, and the trunk abuse would continue. Windham showed off his athleticism by firing danny into the ropes and hammering him with a drop kick. He tagged in Anderson as Danny checked to make sure all his teeth were still in. Arn strolled in and immediately went to work on the jobber’s arm. He locked in an arm bar that had Danny screaming in pain in the tiny studio, the sound reverberating throughout the arena and on TV. Holding the boy’s arm down, Anderson stood up and dropped his knee onto the kid’s elbow. With his ass exposed to the crowd, Danny heard a woman in the audience yell, “Pick your wedgie,” and many people laughed. But Windham’s warning was echoing in his head and he knew he couldn’t. He felt like Anderson was trying to break his arm. Maybe he should, he thought. That way I could sit out a few weeks. Anderson brought DAnny up and stuck the jobber’s arm behind his back and pinned it there. He reached down and lifted the jobber up for a slam, making sure the arm was still pinned to his back. Slamming him down to the mat, Danny’s arm took the full force of the blow as all of his weight came on it.

Anderson put him into an arm twist and walked over to the corner, where he tagged in Windham. The big Texan climbed to the second rope and brought down both fists on Danny’s arm, sending him to the ground clutching his aching, tortured limb. Now Windham went to work on Danny’s back. As Danny got to his knees, still holding his wounded arm, Windham reached down and grabbed Danny’s trunks by the back and pulled him up for an elbow to the back. The blonde bombshell heel then picked Danny up for a slam, clutching onto the pink fabric and showing off to the crowd. Instead of a slam, he dropped Danny’s carcass down on his knee for a painful backbreaker, draping Danny over his right knee. But he didn’t release him. Instead he held him there, bent over his knee. He put one hand on Danny’s thigh and another on his chin and pushed down on both sides, pushing Danny to the floor, and punishing the back even more. Then he’d release and Danny would eae up, before pushing back again, bringing cries from the jobber’s mouth. Windham admired the view. Even though the jobber had a tiny cock, in this exposed position, and in these trunks, the small dick was sticking up, a great sight for the TV audience and the studio. Windham kept him like that for the better part of two minutes. Pushing him down, then releasing him. Finally he shoved Danny off his knee with disdain.

Danny, rolling around with both sides of the trunks still up his ass, tried reaching over to Walsh for the tag, but Windham let him only get so close before picking him up by the hair and hooking his arm for a suplex. Windahm stood still for a few seconds as Danny waited for the heel’s hand to grip the side of his trunks for the inevitable suplex. Windahm finally did and lifted him up for a vertical drop. As he came down, he performed a manuever that he’d perfected. Instead of releasing the trunks, he held onto them and used that momentum to bring himself from his own back to his stomach so that he was in a position to cover the jobber. One side effect of holding onto the trunks like that? The crowd – both on TV and in the studio – usually got a look at the jobber’s groin, as the side of his trunks would be lifted up. So in this case, millions of people got a perfect look at the perfectly shaved groin of Danny Rogers, along with a glimpse of his left nut.

Windham could have easily gotten the pin, but what would be the fun of that. He lifted Danny up after a two count and shook his head at the crowd. As Danny was brought unwillingly back to his feet, he reached back and picked the left side of his trunks out of his ass.He didn’t care what Windham had said, he needed to regain some of his dignity.

“Ya gotta get the other side too, pussy,” yelled the woman who had taunted him earlier about his wedgie.

Windahm marched over and tagged in Arn. Danny had his arms locked in a full nelson position by Windham as Anderson came into the ring. With his stomach exposed, Arn reached into the front of Danny’s trunks and punched him right in the abs. Then again, and again, each time using the trunks to gain his advantage. Finally Windahm let him go and Danny fell.

Arn gathered up the youngster and slapped a DDT on him. Danny’s head bounced off the mat and he went limp, unable to fight, unable to try and tag his partner, unable to move. He prayed that Anderson would roll him over for the pin.

Instead he grabbed him and did a quick tag to Windham. It was time to put this kid out of his misery. Each man hooked an arm of Danny and both grabbed onto a good side of pink trunks. They counted to three and then lifted him up for a double face drop suplex. As he dropped, Windahm grabbed the side of Danny’s trunks to pull him over for a pin, but Anderson stopped him. He wanted to roll him over so he grabbed the other side. No, Windahm wanted him. They kept taking turns yanking Danny’s trunks before finally Windahm let Arn do the honors. As Danny laid on his back, each man hooked a leg of Danny’s for the pin, leaving Danny’s legs splayed, and his wedgied, cute, tight fuckable ass on display for everyone and in front of the camera.

“Another dominating win for the Four Horsemen,” the announcer said.

Finally Danny could reach back and properly adjust his trunks before Walsh helped him roll out of the ring and head back to the locker room. Before they got there, though, an assistant producer stopped them and said that Watson wanted them in his office. Now.

“Shit,” Danny said. “This is about me being late right? Do you think we’re in trouble.”

“I don’t think we’re in trouble,” Walsh replied. “I think you’re in trouble.”

Minutes later, Danny and Brian stood in front of Watson’s desk. He fiddled with some papers for a few minutes while the jobbers waited. Danny felt so nervous. he had no idea what this psycho would do.

“All right. Danny, you were 30 minutes late. That’s completely unacceptable in this organization. You let down Brian here, me, and everyone else in that locker room. You have to accept responsibility for your actions.”

“Yes sir,” Danny nearly whispered. “It’ll never happen again.”

“I have no doubt about that Danny,” Watson replied. “But I’m afraid we do have to address what did happen. And you have to be disciplined for it.”

Danny cringed inside. He figured that meant a fine or something, or maybe a week suspension. He was unprepared for what Watson said next.

“Come over here.”

Danny walked over to Watson who sat at the desk. Before Danny knew what happened, Watson had reached for Danny’s pink trunks and pulled them to his knees, and seemingly in the same motion, had grabbed Danny’s arms and dropped him over his lap, so he was in a perfect spanking position. Danny’s legs kicked helplessly and he yelled, “No, no.”

Watching, Walsh knew what was about to happen. In fact he’d been in this position many times himself. Like Danny, he’d been captured in Watson’s web and was now a jobber for life. At one point in time Brian had a very good looking wife and what he thought was a bright future in wrestling. That was until Watson started outfitting him in skimpy spandex trunks and having him humiliated on a weekly basis. Hiw wife questioned what the hell he was allowing himself to get into, but he couldn’t explain the hold Watson had taken on his life. The marriage finally ended when Jodi walked into Watson’s office one day and discovered the promoter fucking her husband who was bent over the desk, his green trunks around his knees. Watson had arranged for her to walk in on them but Walsh had no idea what was coming. He knew then his life as he knew it was over. The divorce papers came a day later.

But he’d made a pretty good living as a jobber. And younger guys like Danny were now the ones suffering the most humiliations. Watson even allowed Walsh to win a few matches now and then, soemthing Danny would never be allowed. Oh yes, he remembered being over Watson’s lap, and he knew Danny was going to be in for a long session.

“You ever been spanked Danny?” Watson asked the prone jobber who was stuck dangling over his lap, his hot jobber ass sticking up in the air.

“No, sir. My parents didn’t believe in it.”

“Well, I do, Danny. I think it reminds you of what you did and will maybe keep you from doing it again.”

Watson then reached into his top desk drawer and pulled out a small object, an old favorite. Danny heard a buzzing but didn’t yet register what it was. The next thing he knew Watson’s fingers were holding apart his butt cheeks and the vibrating object, a vibrating butt plug, was being carefully inserted into his bottom. Danny grunted and pleaded for Watson not to do it. But the object filled him and vibrated, and finally Danny’s ass accepted the intruder, giving Danny a sense of pleasure he had never experienced. It filled him and made his ass seem wide open. As he was still pondering this, Watson delivered three harsh and hard spanks to Danny’s cheeks, bringing cries from the helpless, humiliated jobber.

“Please sir no.” Watson ignored the cries and kept delivering spanks to each cheek. It was a pain Danny had never felt before. One time in college, with a girl who turned into a one-night stand, he had taken her over his knee for a spanking and he’d enjoyed himself as he spanked her pantied ass. He never imagined he’d be over someone’s knee, much less a man’s. But here he was and he could do nothing about it. What would that girl say if she saw Danny now? Danny kept crying out and reaching his arms back to try and keep the blows from raining down on his ass. Watson finally got fed up with the cries and the reaching back. He again reached into his desk drawer, and this time pulled out a pair of handcuffs and an old, used, dirty jockstrap. He stuffed the jock into Danny’s mouth, finally silencing the jobber, who could still taste the ball sweat that had been caked on there gor God knows how long. And then he cuffed the kid’s hands behind his back, giving Watson unfettered access.

The spanking continued off and on for 10 minutes, while Walsh watched. Watson would take time out to lecture Danny about punctuality and to tell him about future plans he had for him as a pink trunks wearing jobber. Danny was now utterly defeated. Cuffed, plugged, and stuffed, he couldn’t speak, and couldn’t provide any self defense to his butt, all the while feeling the vibrating butt plug that had penetrated him and given him a new reality.

Finally, mercifully, Watson rolled Danny off his lap and stood him up. He told him to stand in the corner near his desk.

“You’ll stand like that for 30 minutes, the same amount of time you were late. Think about what you did.”

He kept the plug in and Danny’s trunks at his ankles, but he pulled out the jockstrap, which was now coated with Danny’s jobber spit. He found another type of gag in his desk and showed it to Danny. It was a cock gag. Danny was horrified. Watson forced the rubber dick into his mouth and strapped it behind his head, enjoying the drool start to ooze out of the kid’s mouth.

“Just getting you ready for the real thing,” Watson said, before playfully slapping Danny’s aching, tender ass.

Walsh was excused and Danny stood like that for 30 minutes while Watson went about his work like everything was normal. And to him it was. He would occasionally lean over and readjust Danny’s vibrating plug. Eventually, Watson called his secretary and told her to come in “with the camera.” Danny dreaded what was to come. He didn’t mean the secretary, Karen, did he? The cute 30-year-old woman who handled Watson’s personal business. Was she coming in? His answer came when the door opened and he heard a beautiful feminine voice say, “Hi Mr. Watson.”

Karen walked toward Watson’s desk and took in the sight before her. Danny, the cute young jobber, standing nude save for his white boots, pink trunks at his ankles, a cock gag in his mouth, and a red ass from an obvious spanking. She’d seen a lot during her time with Watson and nothing surprised her anymore. She sort of felt bad sometimes for the jobbers who fell under his control, but she figured it was their own fault for getting into such a situation. It was evolution at work, predator and prey. She’d enjoyed watching Danny in his pink trunks get humiliated by the heels, and she was waiting for this day to come, when Watson would show Danny a bit more of the wrestling business, the sort of thing you don’t learn in wrestling school.

She’d actually seen Danny at the mall recently and watched as Danny walked through and a couple of cute young girls stopped and pointed at him. Danny stopped and smiled, but they pointed and giggled and guffawed and it was obvious they recognized him as the wedgied jobber they saw each week on TV. Danny just slunk away.

Karen started the video camera as Watson turned Danny around. He took out his cock gag and threw it to the floor. With Danny’s hands still cuffed behind him, he was powerless. Watson removed his own pants and revealed his hard, 8 inch cock. Danny recoiled. Part of him knew what was about to happen, but he tried to block it out. But it was inevitable, and a part of him probably had known it ever since Watson had first come into his life and first outfitted him in the sissy pink trunks. Watson sat down and forced Danny to kneel in front of him, the plug still vibrating in him. Holding the side of Danny’s head, he lowered the jobber boy’s mouth onto his cock. “Take it jobber, take it.”

Danny didn’t really know what to do, but he wrapped his mouth around the throbbing cock, and Watson took care of most of the work, giving him instructions or moving his head where he wanted it. Danny started tonguing it more as the tears came again and poured down his face.

Karen felt herself getting aroused as her boss orally raped the crying jobber. It was obvious the kid had never blown anyone before, but he must have received plenty from cute girls. This is what it’s like being on the other end, kid, she thought.

“You fucking faggot jobber,” Watson said as Danny went to town. “I’m going to make you into a jobber who will no nothing in life but humiliation.”

Danny sucked and sucked until finally Watson pulled out. Danny was confused at first, but only for a half second. Then, Watson came all over Danny’s face, shooting his load onto his cheeks, nose, eyes and forehead. Danny tried recoiling but he had to accept Watson’s seed, all the while Karen captured it on video, a video Watson would later force Danny to watch.

Finally drained, Watson thanked Karen and told her to leave. He stood the shaken Danny up, and removed the plug, which left Danny gasping, suddenly empty. He pulled Danny’s pink trunks back up and told him to go back to the lockerroom. He picked up the jock that had been Danny’s gag before and wiped the cum off the kid’s face. That crusty stain would still be there the next time the jock was forced into a jobber’s mouth. He left a few drops of cum on the side of Danny’s face and in his hair.

Danny walked through the offices and to the locker room with Watson’s juices decorating his face and head. He was marked as the jobber boy he was. And he accepted it.

*This is a fictional story I wrote. This captures all the jobber fantasies I’ve had over the years. I’ve always wanted to be a dominated, beaten in front of a TV audience and a live crowd in my pink trunks.

Danny Rogers stretched excitedly in the locker room. Finally, after
years of dreaming about it, he was going to make his television
wrestling debut on WWF’s Wrestling Superstars TV show. The 21-year-
old had been the star, three-sport athlete at his high school. At 6-
1, 210 pounds with brown hair, he was an athletic god in football,
basketball and baseball. He was muscular, but not a muscle-bound
freak. He had great leaping ability, which had helped him become an
all-state basketball player, and earned him a college scholarship.
He’d graduated a few months ago, finally giving him a chance to
follow a dream.

He didn’t know why, but he’d always wanted to be a pro wrestler. He
didn’t wrestle in high school, but he watched every Saturday as his
wrestling heroes were in action. After graduation, he went to a
wrestling school and quickly earned a reputation as an up and comer,
a potential future star. He had all the moves, and great leaping
ability, off the mat or the ropes.

Toward the end of his time in wrestling school, veteran promoter
Steven Watson had come to the school and asked specifically to talk
with Danny. The instructors told Danny this was his big break, that
Watson had made dozens of stars over the years.

Now, a few weeks later, Danny was prepared to make his debut as
Flying Danny Rogers. He was standing in the locker room in the
outfit that he had designed and Watson had approved. It was blue
tights, and a blue top, the same type of outfit worn by the Blue
Blazer, minus the mask. He was scheduled to face jobber Steve
Lombardi, and he was going to make a stunning debut. The crowd would
love his moves, his looks, his body, and his persona. To top it off,
his girlfriend of nine months, Katie, was in the crowd with two of
her girlfriends to watch his first match. He couldn’t wait to
impress her, then take her to his hotel that Watson had provided and
fuck her brains out.

Watson came into the lockeroom and told Danny to sit down.

“Got a little change of plans, Danny,” Watson said.

“What do you mean,” Danny wondered, and he thought that he must be
facing a different jobber tonight.

“Here are your real trunks, boy,” Watson said, and with that he
reached into a bag and pulled out a skimpy pair of wrestling trunks.
But these weren’t normal trunks. They were pink! What the hell was
Watson talking about?

“What are those?” Danny said.

“Danny, you’re not going to be Flying Danny. You’re going to be a
jobber. Don’t worry, it’s just for this match, so you can prove
yourself. But if you want to be Flying Danny, you’ll do this. And
you’ll wear these.”

Danny stared at the garment in horror. He’d seen jobbers growing up
who had to wear trunks like this – guys like Tommy Angel, Red Tyler,
Reno Riggins, and Bob Emery. Guys who got beat up and embarrassed
every week for the real talent. Guys who had to wear jobber gear
that told the crowd they were pansies. Danny always wondered how
those guys did it, how they put themselves through that.

“I can’t,” he finally said.

“You will, if you want any career in this sport, boy. Your match is
in 20 minutes. You’re going against Cowboy Bob Orton. Get ready.”

Danny was in shock as Watson exited. But what choice did he have? If
he wanted to be Flying Danny, he had to do this. He supposed every
wrestler had to pay his dues. He took off his blue tights, and
slowly climbed into the humiliating pink trunks. He couldn’t believe
what he was wearing. He saw himself in the mirror wearing them. His
body still looked good of course, but it now looked ridiculous as
well. Every time he moved they rode up slightly in his ass and he
had to reach back and adjust the pending wedgie. He saw another
wrestler watching him from the bench, and the guy was smirking.

A short time later, Danny was standing in the ring. The walk to the
ring was more embarrassing than he was anticipating. Almost
immediately, he heard a man yell, “Nice panties, tough guy.” Every
time he walked by a woman, he noticed them checking out his package
or his ass in the embarrassing trunks. Some even wolf whistled. As
he climbed into the ring he made eye contact with his girlfriend
Katie, who was in the front row. Her eyes were wide, and she put her
hands up as if to say, “What the hell?” He just shook his head and
concentrated on the ring and Orton’s entrance. He’d seen Orton
wrestle over the years and knew he was tough. This would be a long
match.

As soon as the bell sounded Orton attacked Danny, surprising the
rookie with the speed he was on top of him. He pummeled him in the
corner with kicks to the stomach and punches to the head. He then
grabbed the startled rookie jobber by the hair and pounded his head
into the turnbuckle. He took a hold of the hair and ran toward the
far turnbuckle, again slamming the jobber’s head into the
turnbuckle. By the time he was done with all four corners of the
ring, Danny’s head was spinning and he was writhing on the mat.

Orton bent down and slapped a reverse headlock on the youngster.
This is a good move to wear down a jobber, Orton thought. Take some
of the life out of him before the true pain and humiliation began.
Orton ground his arm under Danny’s chin. Danny couldn’t believe how
much pain was involved with this simple move. He struggled to
breathe, and he kicked his legs out a few times, but Orton simply
pressed his weight on his back and took the fight out of Danny.

With Danny weakened, Orton released the jobber and laid him flat on
the mat before dropping a padded knee on the kid’s forehead. The kid
looks so good in his pink trunks, Orton can no longer contain
himself. It’s time to start humiliating this kid.

Orton stood Danny up and hooked his head under his arm. With his
right hand, he grabbed a firm hold of Danny’s pink trunks and lifts
him high into the sky. Danny is frightened as he dangles seemingly
up in the lights. He hears the crowd oohing and aching at the
strength of Cowboy Bob. Danny is being held perfectly straight,
while Orton’s hands hold onto the skimpy pink trunks. How long can
he keep me up here, Danny wonders. The blood is rushing to his head
and he feels himself getting dizzy. Please take me down, he thinks.
But Orton just walks around a bit more with him, before eventually
falling backward in a devastating suplex. He goes for a half-hearted
pin but Danny kicks out of it. Later Danny would think to himself
that he should have just let himself be pinned.

There’s no way, though, that Danny can be prepared for what happens
next.

Orton drags Danny to his feet and reaches to his crotch. Danny feels
himself being grabbed by the rear of his trunks in a possible
bodyslam. But instead, Orton lifts Danny above his head, in a
military press. The crowd gives a huge pop as the jobber in pink is
now seven or eight feet above the ring, his trunks being held a good
five or six inches above his ass, sending the pink material into his
rear as Danny is humiliated beyond belief.

Not content to simply hold Danny up, Orton begins pressing him like
a barbell. Each time Orton pressed him, like the proverbial “sack of
flour,” the crowd cheered or murmured. Each time he pressed Danny,
the pink trunks went in his ass, then out as he was held above
Orton’s head, displayed like some type of prize won at a carnival.

At first, Danny tried kicking his legs, not wanting to be hoisted up
like this in such a humiliating fashion. But as he started kicking,
Orton lifted the trunks even further above his ass, giving him all
the leverage and leaving Danny helpless. Unbenownst to Danny, on the
TV broadcast, the color commentator was saying, “Look at how Orton
is holding the rookie’s trunks. In a military press, the higher the
trunks are above the man’s buttocks, the more leverage you have. And
those trunks are way above Danny and Orton has all the leverage.”

Realizing the futility of his actions, Danny accepted his fate,
eight feet above the mat as Orton toured the ring with his body
above his head, pressing him again and again. All the while he was
also holding Danny by the chin, forcing him to look at the crowd,
forcing him to see the faces of the people. In the first row, he saw
a family of four. The two kids were giggling like crazy, the wife
was staring in wonder and the husband was taking a picture of the
moment.

Finally Orton brought Danny down, delivering a devastating
backbreaker while still clutching the rear of his degraded foe’s
pink trunks. But he wasn’t done with this pathetic opponent. No,
after delivering the backbreaker he brought Danny back up above his
head, again displaying him, his trunks, and his now completely
wedgied ass. Again he brought him down for a backbreaker, and again
he brought him up for a press position. Finally, mercifully, he
delivered one final crushing backbreaker and released the jobber boy
from his clutches.

Danny was in pain, but was still aware of the pink trunks lodged up
his butt. While laying on his stomach he reached back and picked the
wedgie out of both sides, although it still left them slightly
riding up. He heard a murmur of laughter as this happened but was in
too much pain, and too humiliated to care. Orton covered him for the
pin and Danny was at least thankful that the ordeal was about to
end. He’d be pinned, and he could go back to the lockeroom.

The ref slapped the mat once, twice…but No! Orton yanks his young
foe up from the ground by the hair and yells to the crowd, “I’m not
done with him yet.”

Danny sits there, still struggling to breathe as his back and ribs
ache. Orton climbs on top of him, straddling him and starts
delivering punches to the top of his head. One, two, three, four of
them. Orton stands up. Danny looks up and sees Orton preparing to
deliver another knee drop to his head. Everything in him wants to
move out of the way. Screw the promoter. But he knows he can’t. He’s
stuck in this position. Besides that, he’s physically in no position
to move, having been beaten up.

Orton now drags Danny up to his feet and puts his hand on the back
waistband of Danny’s pink trunks. Before Danny knows what’s
happening, he’s being thrown between the top and second ropes out
onto the concrete floor, which is covered only by a small mat. But
worse, Orton has deposited him on the side of the ring that Katie is
sitting on. There he lies, four feet away from her and her friends,
and directly in front of the rest of the crowd. As he lays there
rubbing the small of his back, he sees two college aged girls
laughing and smirking at him and hears the one yell, “Cute trunks
pretty boy.” This causes everyone around to laugh, but as he catches
a glimpse of Katie, she’s just shaking her head. Her friends have
small grins on their faces, as if they’re still amazed that their
friend’s tough boyfriend, this stud, this hunk, is prone in front of
them in a pair of small pink wrestling trunks that look like a
slightly larger pair of girls panties.

Orton climbs out of the ring and is now approaching Danny. “Can’t
this guy just leave me alone,” Danny wonders. Orton picks him and
like he did in the ring, hooks Danny’s arm around his neck in
obvious preparation for a suplex. God, not on the concrete, Danny
thinks, as he feels Orton’s right hand take a firm grasp on the left
side of his pink trunks. Orton has positioned him so Danny’s ass is
facing his girlfriend. Danny can only wonder what Katie’s thinking
about now.

After Orton fiddles with his hold on the trunks for a few seconds,
making sure he has a good hold on the silky material, he hoists
Danny up in an apparent vertical suplex. But this time, instead of
crashing backward down to the concrete, Orton goes into a front face
drop. But instead of delivering a brainbuster, he drops Danny
stomach first on the ringside railing. Danny can’t believe the pain
as he goes abdomen first into the steel barrier. The wind is sucked
out of him, he struggles to breathe. Worse, he’s now draped
humiliatingly over the railing, his ass in the air. But not for
long. His momentum carries him down to the floor, but he comes to a
heap on the fan-side of the barrier. He’s now at the feet of an
obese woman, her ugly husband and their kid, not to mention the
pretty college girls and just a few feet away, his girlfriend. Danny
feels his back getting wet and sticky as he apparently landed in
some spilled soda. Then, the fat lady’s kid dumps her cup of popcorn
on Danny’s back. They’re treating him like a farm animal and are
obviously enjoying seeing him destroyed by the cocky heel.

As he makes his way to his feet, Orton reaches over and grabs Danny
by his brown locks, taking ahold on each side of his head. “Come on
over boy,” he yells. With that he walks backward and pulls Danny
over the railing. Danny lets out a yelp as he’s dragged over the
railing and again put on the floor. With his stomach, back, and now
hair all aching, Danny is powerless as Orton grabs ahold of the back
of his pink trunks and yanks upward, again giving him a huge wedgie
as he hears the crowd erupting in more laughter.
“WEDGIE” yells a girl in the crowd.

But instead of throwing his carcass back into the ring, Orton takes
grab of the trunks, and the back of Danny’s hair and begins marching
him around the ring, again displaying him like a prisoner being led
out of a courtroom, forcing the jobber boy to confront the reality,
that he’s a humiliated punk in pink trunks being paraded in front of
thousands of people. To Danny’s horror, Orton marches him right past
his girlfriend. He makes brief eye contact with Katie who again just
shakes her head. Her girlfriends have put their hands up to their
faces, in shocked silence, their eyes wide as they watch the
destruction of DAnny.

Orton frogmarches Orton completely around the ring. Danny is
helpless to stop it, being controlled as he is by his wedgied ass
and his hair. All four sides of the ring see him in this
embarrassing state. At each turn, he can see cameras flashing, as
the fans take pictures that will preserve his humiliation for
eternity. He yells as Orton gives an occasional tug up on the
trunks, further accentuating the wedgie, or gives an extra pull to
the hair, just because he can.

To Danny’s utter horror, there was something going on inside his
trunks as well. Whether it was because of how smooth the trunks
felt, or just the general jostling of the match, he’d gotten hard in
the trunks, and was now sporting a fairly obvious Hardon in the pink
material, which was helpfully pointed out by a fan who yelled “He’s
got a boner. Oh my god.”

AFter completing the circle around the ring, Orton fired Danny’s now
thonged ass back into the ring. As Danny rolled back into the center
of the ring, he instinctively again reached back to remove the
wedgie. However, he could only get one side out before Orton was on
top of him, kicking him in the midsection.

Orton took him and delivered a swinging neckbreaker. Now he was
having fun, the veteran said to himself. Danny was helpless as Orton
lifted him up and took him to a corner. Orton climbed to the second
rope as he turned Danny around so Orton was clinging to the back of
Danny’s head. Orton put his knee to the youngster’s head and fell
forward, putting Danny on his face and delivering all of his weight
on the back of his skull. Danny cried out in pain but couldn’t move.
The pain was so intense, the humiliation of the entire night so
great, that he felt paralyzed.

It ws time for Orton to finish this guy. He pulled Danny up and
again hooked him for a suplex. He gave a good yank on the trunks,
but instead of going for a suplex, he planted him on the top
turnbuckle, then gave Danny a couple of punches to soften him up.
Danny knew what was coming. He’d seen Orton’s superplex over the
years. As Cowboy Bob prepared to finish off the pink-trunked pussy
now securely lodged on the top turnbuckle, he again thought of how
much he loved what he did. Nothing like dismantling and humiliating
a cocky kid who thinks he’s going to take over the wrestling world.
Now here is in a pair of pink trunks in front of a capacity crowd,
helpless, hopeless. Watson had pointed out the kid’s girlfriend
beforehand and Orton made sure that many of Danny’s humiliations
took place right in front of her pretty face. Now the kid sat
obediently in the corner, his body aching, his ass probably sore
from the constant trunks abuse he’d undergone, his spirit utterly
shattered. Orton could do anything he wanted at this moment, and the
power was intoxicating. Orton climbed up to the rope and again
hooked Danny’s head and took a firm hold of the kid’s trunks. The
crowd stood as one as they waited for this jobber to be finished
off. They wanted their blood.

Danny felt helpless as Orton clutched his trunks. Suddenly, before
he was really prepared for it, he was being flipped backward and to
the mat, landing with a blow that crushed his back and robbed him of
breath. Orton climbed on top, his crotch over Danny’s face, and
hooked his leg for the inevitable pin. As Danny’s leg was lifted for
the pin, Orton hooked Danny’s other leg so that his ass was now
completely exposed for the pin.

The bell rang and the announcer named Orton the winner. Danny laid
there for a few minutes, adjusted his trunks, and with head bowed to
avoid the stares of the crowd, returned to the locker room.

He peeled his trunks off and got dressed, happy that he’d never have
to go through that again. He hadn’t seen Watson yet, but the
promoter had to have been impressed with his efforts and his abilit
to take punishment.

An hour after the match, Danny met Katie in the hallway. It was good
to see her. He needed a friendly face after what he’d been through.
He wanted to explain to her what had happened, and why, and how
everything was going to work out. He walked up to her and went to
give her a kiss on the cheek, but Katie stepped back a bit and shook
her head. Katie looked down at the floor, trying to gather her
thoughts.

“Danny, listen. You’re a great guy, but I don’t think this is going
to work out.”

This is not what Danny was expecting. “What the hell are you talking
about?”

“Danny, do you know what I just saw out there? I just watched as my
boyfriend got the crap beat out of him in front of 5,000 people and
god knows how many on television. And not only did he get the crap
beat out of him, he was wearing a pair of trunks that looked like a
large pair of pink panties. Do you know how humiliating it was for
me to have to sit there and hear the crowd taunting you? Do you know
how embarrassed I was to be sitting by Jessica and Julie as they
watached my boyfriend get treated like a sissy? What the hell are my
brothers going to say about this? I’m sorry. I can’t go out with
someone I don’t respect.”

“Katie, please, don’t,” Danny said, but she walked away, and toward
Jessica and Julie, who were standing about 30 feet away, also
shaking their heads.

Around the corner, Watson watched and listened to this scene with a
giant smile. He figured Danny’s girlfriend would eventually leave
him after she saw what he had turned him into, but even he didn’t
think it’d only take one match. He’d have to thank Orton for doing
his part, humiliating Danny right in front of the girl.

Watson went up to Danny who was now standing by himself in silence
and put an arm around him. Danny recoiled. “Get your hands off me,”
he said, and Watson could see the rookie was starting to tear up. “I
did what you wanted, now I want my old uniform back and Flying Danny
to premiere.”

“There is no Flying Danny, boy,” Watson said. “You’re Danny Rogers,
jobber.”

“But you said…”

“I lied,” Watson said, smiling broadly.

“Welcome to your new reality, Danny,” Watson told him. “Whatever
wrestling career you thought you were going to have ended the moment
you stepped into that ring in those pink trunks and proceeded to be
humiliated in front of a TV audience. No one will ever see you and
take you seriously again. From now on, you are a jobber. You will be
my jobber boy. You’ll usually wear these pink trunks, but sometimes
I’ll switch it. Maybe give you a yellow pair, perhaps a floral
pattern that will add to your humiliation. You can be sure of one
thing: every match you wrestle, you will be decked out in
humiliating trunks and those trunks will be grabbed, yanked, and
pulled up your ass, and you will get the crap beaten out of you in
every match. I’ve got a whole horde of heels lined up to take you
down. Guys like Kevin Sullivan, Barry Windham, Arn Anderson, the
Barbarian, Terry Funk, Nikolai Volkoff. I might even whore you out
to some other promoter friends who are always looking for new jobber
boys to get destroyed and get their talent over. I’ll probably send
you to some independent promotions as well. You think it’s
humiliating being destroyed in front of a large audience? Well, it’s
just as bad when there’s only 50 people in some rinky dink high
school gymnasium and every man, woman and child in that place can
see you being embarrassed and prancing around in your trunks. This
will be your life, Danny. Until I’m done with you.”

“I’ll just quit,” Danny blurted out. “You can’t make me do this.”

Watson again chuckled to himself. So naive, he thought.

“Danny, you have to read your contract better. It says that I have
complete power over your career and your character, I can do
whatever I want with you and you have to do it. I know you sunk your
life savings into going to our wrestling school. You have nothing
left. And the contract also says that if you quit before your five-
year stint is up, or if you don’t follow my ideas for your
character, you will owe me the money on your contract. Think about
that. You quit, you’ll be paying me off for the next 25 years.
You’re a jobber now Danny. That’s it.”

Watson left Danny standing there. The youngster didn’t know what to
do. He thought about calling his parents, but they’d been against
him becoming a pro wrestler from the beginning. What would they say
if they found out he’ quit and now actually owed money to the
promoters? He couldn’t believe he hadn’t read the contract better.
It’s just that he was so damn excited when Watson wandered into the
wrestling school and offered it to him on the spot.

He needed a drink. Danny eventually found himself at a small bar, a
place he knew the other wrestlers wouldn’t go to. He was nursing his
fifth beer of the night when he noticed two women about 30 years of
age at the other end of the bar staring at him. They were
attractive, and were whispering to each other and occasionally
giggling. In another life – a pre jobber life – Danny would have
tried to make a move. But not now. He just went back to his beer.
But a few minutes later the ladies were standing next to him,, still
giggling slightly to each other.

“Are you Danny Rogers?” the brunette asked.

“Yeah.”

They laughed again, and the brunette said, “We thought so. We were
at your match tonight.”

Oh god, Danny thought to himself. Why now. Where were they sitting?
It didn’t matter, they’d obviously seen him crushed and embarrassed
and wedgied in the ring.

“I thought you looked kind of cute in your pink trunks,” the lady
continued, “but my friend said you looked like a fag.”

With that the brunette and her blonde friend burst into laughter.
They were obviously drunk, and were enjoying themselves. Danny said
nothing, hoping they’d go away.

“Why do you wear those skimpy trunks,” the blonde finally asked.

Danny still said nothing. How could he explain what he’d been
through, what his life was going to be like. “I don’t know, the
promoter liked them on me.”

“He is a fag,” he heard the blonde whisper to the brunette, who
responded, “Shh, be nice. Well, listen Danny, all I can say is that
I can’t wait to see you in some more matches. Just be careful of
those wedgies, pantyboy.”

And with that both women burst into laughter and walked away from
him. Humiliated, Danny paid for his beer and hustled out of the bar.
He went back to his hotel and contemplated his future. His future as
a jobber boy.

A week later Danny was at the WCW wrestling studios in Atlanta,
which Watson also ran. The wrestling area was much smaller, the
crowd closer to the action. In the lockerroom, Danny sat nervously
on a bench. Some other wrestlers wandered by, but he was alone when
Watson, his tormentor, walked in.

“Got a good match for you today, boy. Kevin Sullivan.”

Danny recoiled inside a bit. He’d heard the stories about how mean
Sullivan really was in the ring. It wasn’t an act for this guy.

“Oooh, Kevin loves destroying jobbers like you,” Watson said, as if
he could read Danny’s mind. “Something about seeing a hot, well-
built young jobber in small trunks gets his ire up and he can’t wait
to make an example of you. But I’ll give you a little chance to show
something other than your ability to take humiliation. The match is
going to start with you on the offensive. I want you to put together
about two or three minutes of offensive wrestling. Show the crowd
those skills you thought you were going to use your whole career.
They’ll love it. They hate Sullivan. They’ll even be cheering for
the kid in pink. But then it’s going to go downhill for you and I’m
afraid it’ll be pretty painful. But here’s the best part. I’m not
going to tell Sullivan you’re going to take the initiative at the
start of the match. Your offense is going to take him completely by
surprise. Oh boy, is he going to be pissed. And you will pay for it.
And Kevin’s got a new manager, not sure if you know. Jacqueline. A
gorgeous, strong, black former bodybuilder. And she likes destroying
jobbers nearly as much as Kevin.”

Danny sat there in silence. He could already see his fate. There was
no way out of this.

“Now let’s get you into your trunks, boy,” Watson said.

Danny opened his gym bag and pulled out the clothing that had come
to define him. Every time he looked at them he recoiled, not quite
believing that thosuands of people were going to see him outfitted
in this. Watson watched as Danny took off his clothes and stepped
into the trunks, pulling them up his leg and fitting them over his
crotch and ass. Already they were riding up a bit in the back and he
reached back to adjust them, bringing an audible moan of pleasure
from Watson.

“We do have to address one more thing,” Watson said as Danny stood
in front of him in his fairy pink attire. “We can’t have you
sprouting hardons on national tv every time you’re out there getting
your ass kicked.”

Again Danny was silent. He didn’t think anyone had noticed. Well,
except for the girl in the crowd. And his girlfriend. Jesus, had
people on TV seen it too? His life couldn’t get any worse. “It was
an accident,” he blurted out, and Watson laughed.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “And your life is going to have a
lot more humiliation and ass kickings and trunk pullings and exposed
asses in the very near future, and it obviusly gets you going.”

Danny stared at him as Watson told him to follow him back to his
office. He had no idea what the promoter could be planning. They
stepped into Watson’s tiny office and the promoter went and sat down
behind his desk. He thought about all the good times he’d had in
this office. How many young punks like this he’d humiliated and
degraded over the years. He’d dressed up many jobbers in this very
office, put them into tiny trunks, or larger trunks depending on his
mood and the jobber’s look. He’d slapped around a few rookies in
here after they screwed up a match. He’d made a few of his jobbers
wear white panties underneath their trunks, panties that were of
course exposed the second one of his heels pulled their trunks. He
told the jobbers they were “athletic underwear,” but they knew. They
knew Watson ran their life. He’d made some of the jobbers sport butt
plugs during matches, the better to train their jobber pussies for
when he bent them over his desk after the matches. And many a jobber
had found himself on his knees in front of Watson, sucking him off
as they wore their skimpy gear before being sent out for another
round of debilitating humiliation.

But Danny Rogers might be his greatest creation. He’d taken an All-
American boy, a college basketball player, a stud who women wanted,
a kid who really could have been a star in wrestling, and turned him
into the pathetic jobber that stood nervously in front of him now,
decked out in white boots and pink trunks. He had only made a very
select few of his jobbers wear the pink trunks, as they were the
ultimate humiliation for the wrestlers, and the ultimate sign that
Watson himself truly wanted to see their total emasculation and
destruction.

“Pull down your trunks, boy. To your knees.”

Danny hesitated, before slowly pulling them down and standing in
front of Watson, who now had a perfect look at Danny’s small, but
suddenly hardening dick.

“Come here.”

With the pink trunks at his knees restricting his walking, Danny
hobbled over and around the desk. Watson felt his own cock growing
hard as he watched this sissy struggle to wander over to him.

“Now Danny. This is a part of wrestling you probably haven’t heard
about, but a lot of guys do it. They don’t wanna get hardons during
the match so they’ll jerk off before the match. But you’re lucky,
I’m going to be the one to drain you.”

With that Watson grabbed Danny and pulled him onto his lap so
Danny’s back was to him. Watson told Danny to lift his legs and rest
his feet on the desk. He then grabbed the jobber dick and began
pumping him, all the while telling him about the destruction he was
going to be facing in a short while at the hands of Sullivan and
Jacqueline.

The destroyed Danny tried to keep from getting hard, but it was
useless. He thought back to all the times he’d had a chick in a
similar position, on his lap, her panties at her knees, him playing
with her wet pussy. The image crushed him, as he knew he was now the
one being used and abused. After just a few minutes. Watson could
tell Danny was about to erupt. The jobber juice squirted out into
Watson’s hand as Danny moaned and writhed on the promoter’s lap.
Watson wiped his hand off and told Danny to stand up.

Danny looked down as Watson slowly pulled the pink trunks back up,
over his now flimsy cock. He snapped them with a flourish at the
waist and had Danny turn around so he could adjust the trunks on the
jobber’s butt cheeks.

“There we go,” Watson said. “These trunks are going to get quite the
workout tonight.”

With that he lightly patted Danny on the rump and sent him on his
way, telling him “Showtime’s in 60 minutes.”

Danny wandered out of the office in a haze, stunned by what had just
happened, and fearful of what was next.

An hour later, Danny stood in the squared circle, jumping up and
down nervously. Here came Sullivan, led to the ring by the muscular,
black Jacqueline, a woman who truly did put fear into men’s hearts.
Danny had seen her in action during one match and couldn’t believe
how she’d crushed an opponent of Sullivan’s who ended up outside the
ring. And look what she was wearing. Tight dark pants, a tight black
shirt. A hot, even masculine outfit, while he was sporting his
degrading pink trunks. But Danny had a plan. Since Watson gave him
the go ahead to put on some offensive moves, he was hoping, praying
even, that he could surprise Sullivan in the first minute and maybe
get a surprising pin. If he could just hit a dropkick, and then a
patented cross bodyblock from the top rope – the move that was going
to be his signature when he was going to be Flying Danny – he could
maybe get a quick one-two-three and get out of the ring. He knew
Watson would be pissed. But maybe it’d get the crowd behind him and
they’d see that he wasn’t just a sissy in pink trunks who was only
there to be beaten up and humiliated by stronger men. He could show
Watson that he could still be a big name in wrestling, that he
didn’t have to be sentenced to a lifetime of jobber hell. He only
hoped he’d get an opening.

As Sullivan climbed into the ring in his black trunks, Danny again
reached back to pick out the gradual wedgie. He did it almost
without thinking about it now, so engrained were the trunks in his
soul.

He knew Sullivan was expecting them to lock up in the center of the
ring – Watson had told Sullivan that, wanting Danny to surprise him -
and now Danny struck. Sprinting across the ring he delivered an
elbow to Sullivan’s face, landing it squarely. Sullivan fell back
into the corner and Danny pounced, kicking him in the gut three
times. With Sullivan obviously staggered, Danny stood on the rope
and climbed above Sullivan, who was trapped in the turnbuckle. He
punched him. Then again. Now the crowd was in it, and was on his
side, just as he knew they would if he got some offense going. They
picked up the chant now, one, two three, four, five, six punches.
Danny climbed down and flung Sullivan into the opposite corner. As
the short, powerful heel wandered back to the center of the ring,
Danny picked him up in a bodyslam. It felt good to finally be in
control. Sullivan let out a groan as his body came down on the
canvas.

Now it was time to go for the kill. He dragged Sullivan up and flung
him into the ropes. Sullivan came in and Danny delivered his
devastating drop kick, the one that had so impressed his instructors
at wrestling school, before Watson came into his life, before the
pink trunks, before the destruction, before the wedgies. With
Sullivan grabbing at his mouth – maybe I knocked a tooth out, Danny
thought – Danny climbed to the top rope. This was it. Flying body
drop and it would be a one, two, three. He waited for Sullivan’s fat
ass to rise, and then flew. He hammered Sullivan flush and he
crumbled to the mat. Danny was on him. One, two…but before the ref
could hit the mat a third time, Sullivan threw Danny off him.

Undeterred, Danny picked Sullivan up. He needed a few more moves,
then it would be over. He again threw Sullivan into a ring corner.
He went racing in him after him hoping to deliver a body block that
would soften Sullivan up again. But a moment before hitting
Sullivan, the heel’s boot rose up and kicked out, hitting Danny
right in the mouth. He crumbled, and let out a yell. His whole face
felt like it’d been blown up. The next words he heard let him know
it was all over, and that it had probably been a mistake to go after
Sullivan. As Sullivan yanked him up by the hair, he leaned in close
and whispered, “You’re going to pay now you little fucker.”

Danny could taste blood in his mouth. Sullivan walked him over the
ropes and acted like he was going to throw him to the other side of
the ropes, but he held on to Danny and as the jobber bounced off,
Sullivan caught him with a knee directly to the abdomen. But he held
him up. He walked over to the other ropes and did the same move,
completely robbing Danny of breath. He now threw him into the
turnbuckle and followed right behind, not waiting like Danny had
done, his crucial mistake. Sullivan gave him a crushing clothesline
that he made sure hit right on the jobber’s throat.

Sullivan was enraged. But he liked being enraged. This little pink
fairy had thought he could surprise the veteran, and now it was time
to make an example of him, in case a future jobber boy was watching.
As his prey flailed on the mat like a fish out of water, he picked
him up and clutched on to the back of the silky pink trunks.

It felt good to grab a jobber’s trunks, Sullivan thought to himself.
There was nothing quite as humbling as being controlled by your
trunks. He knew what kind of power he held being able to manipulate
a man like this, how embarrassing it was, and how it destroyed any
thoughts of a comeback in a jobber. And now he had Jacqueline to aid
him in his madness. She was almost the female equal of him. She
enjoyed humiliating jobbers as much as he did. And now she’d get her
chance.

With his hands full of trunks and hair, Sullivan took Danny and
prepared to throw him over the top rope. But right when he got
there, he pulled back and held Danny up.

“No, no, no,” Sullivan said. He then went to the other side and
prepared to throw him out. But again he held him up, forcing Danny’s
trunks further up his ass.

“No, no, no,” he repeated.

And by now the crowd knew what was coming. Sullivan was going to
throw him at Jacqueline’s feet, on her side of the ring.

Sullivan finally tossed Danny over the top rope and the youngster
landed with a thud on the floor, with Jacqueline standing about six
feet away. As Danny struggled to his feet – he didn’t want to spend
anymore time this close to the crowd as necessary – he turned and
was greeted by a running clothesline from Jacqueline, which sent him
crashing back to the floor. The crowd went nuts as Jacqueline looked
at her work with a satisfied smile.

“That bitch,” Danny thought to himself.

As Jacqueline pulled him up, Danny went to punch her. He wasn’t
going to take this from her, no matter what the promoter wanted, no
matter if she was a woman. But somehow Jacquline blocked the blow,
and delivered a right punch herself to his forehead, followed by a
kick to the stomach. With Danny bent over, Jacqueline hooked danny’s
head and arm and grabbed hold of the side of his pink trunks.

“Oh god no,” Danny thought, a split second before Jacquline snapped
him up and delivered a back-crushing suplex on the thin mat covering
the concrete.

“Kick his ass, Jacquline,” yelled a guy in the crowd.

“Yeah, kill him,” followed a woman’s voice, and it was now obvious
that any thought Danny had that he’d won over the crowd with his
early offense was foolish.

Sullivan climbed down to the floor and now took over the destruction
from Jacqueline. Standing behind Danny, who was sitting on his pink-
trunked ass, Sullivan put both hands into Danny’s mouth, grabbing a
side with each hand. He then walked backward, dragging the howling
jober on his back as the crowd watched in amazement. Sullivan
dragged his foe like a hunter pulling a deer out of the woods,
finally stopping after pulling him 15 feet on the mat. Danny kicked
his legs helplessly, wondering what could happen next.

Sullivan pulled him up, again by danny’s mouth, grabbed him by the
back of the head, and rammed him face first into the steel ring
corner. Danny didn’t get his hands up in time to properly cushion
the blow like he was taught, and the full force of the blow drilled
him, instantly causing him to go a bit blurry-eyed. Sullivan noticed
that the hapless boy hadn’t gotten his arms up in time, and he
couldn’t be happier. Now he was delivering real pain and
humiliation. Danny was rolling on his stomach, trying to regain his
bearings, as Sullivan climbed back into the ring. Jacqueline
wandered back over to Danny and slowly picked him up by clutching
the back of his pink trunks. The kid had a nice ass, she had to
admit, but nothing got her off like dominating men like this. She
loved the looks on the faces of the women in the crowd as she gave
an extra tug to Danny’s trunks and put them up his ass. She saw that
several pretty girls were wearing University of Georgia gymnastics
sweatsuits, and they especially seemed to be enjoying seeing this
guy their age get destroyed. They probably wanted Jacqueline to do
the same thing to their boyfriends.

She slowly walked him about five feet and then fired him back under
the bottom ring rope.

Both sides of the pink trunks were now lodged up Danny’s ass and a
buzz went through the crowd. Danny was vaguely aware of this, but
the blow to the head had done some damage. He still couldn’t really
see straight and the world was spinning. He had to get a second to
breathe, to clear his head, but Sullivan was immediately on him.
Sullivan sat on Danny’s chest and delivered punch after punch after
punch. Danny could feel the drool from Sullivvan spilling onto his
chest as well as each punch, which just added to his fuzzy head. In
that state, Danny didn’t even hear the eruptions of laughter that
went up from the crowd as Sullivan stood him up and Danny’s wedgied
ass was now on full display for the first time since he got tossed
back into the ring.

Sullivan felt a hardon growing in his own trunks as he held the
battered and bruised youngster up by the hair in the center of the
ring, debating whether to finish him off now or prolong the jobber
boy’s misery. The power he felt at this moment was unlike anything
else in life. Even fucking a woman wasn’t quite the same as this.
Then he remembered the sneak attack beginning, and the hatred for
this punk again filled him. There would be no quick finish for this
kid. He held him up by his hair for a few more seconds, giving the
stunned crowd a chance to hoot and holler and laugh a bit more. Now
moving back into action, Sullivan bent Danny over and stuck his head
between his legs in preparation for a piledriver. Instead of simply
locking his arms on Danny’s stomach and lifting him up for the
devastating manuever, Sullivan first took a hold of Danny’s trunks
and gave them a yank. The jobber boy was now completely humiliated,
bent over in front of the crowd and Jacqueline, trunks up his ass,
head lodged between Sullivan’s sweaty, disgusting legs. The pull on
the trunks seemed to wake Danny from his fog, and he regained a bit
of his senses. He was now fully aware of his position of servitude
in between Sullivan’s thighs. All he could hope for was that the
piledriver would be the end of the match and Sullivan would
mercifully cover him.

Sullivan pulled the kid up and held him vertically for a few
seconds, the jobber’s ass inches from his face. Instead of simply
falling to the ground, Sullivan leapt up before coming down, further
hurting Danny’s head and leaving him sprawled on the canvas. But
Sullivan had no interest in the pin. He wanted Jacqueline to have a
bit more fun. This time he spared the kid a trunk grabbing and
instead just flung him over the top rope with his hair, again
sending Danny to Jacqueline’s feet. The crowd in the first few rows
stood up to watch the destruction they knew was coming.

Jacquline gave a leather boot to Danny’s head, then another. She
then proceeded to bring her boot down all around his body, making a
circle, starting with his head, going to his shoulders, to his
stomach, to his legs, and then to the other side, ending back at the
jobber’s head.

Danny heard a girl yell out “pick your wedgie,” and laughter.

Sullivan again descended from the ring side. He grabbed Danny and
walked him over to the small podium that the television announcers
stood behind.

“What is this madman doing now,” the play by play man wondered as
Sullivan and his quarry came near the podium. One of the cameraman
was two feet away from Danny’s ass and panned down for a shot of it.
Watson had told him that the audience loved seeing shots like that
of humiliated jobbers.

Sullivan scooped up Danny’s helpless body in a bodyslam position. He
held him for a few extra seconds and gave an extra squeeze to
Danny’s balls, just to remind him who was in charge. With that he
slammed Danny onto the podium, crushing the flimsy structure as the
crowd cheered and the announcers yelled “What in the hell does
Sullivan think he’s doing?”

Danny was again out of it, the dizziness returning as he laid on the
pile of wood that used to be the TV stand. Briefly, in a flash
thought, he wished he had never entered the world of professional
wrestling. But that thought was eliminated as Sullivan took a piece
of the podium and slammed it onto Danny’s chest. Jacqueline wandered
over to the destruction and Sullivan motioned her to come near him.
They each used one hand to grab a piece of Danny’s hair and, like
Sullivan did earlier by his mouth, they dragged Danny back toward
the ring, like a caveman dragging his wife. They left him for dead
as Sullivan climbed into the ring. It was left to Jacqueline to get
the battered Danny back into the ring. Danny was still sprawled on
his back, unable, or unwilling to move or try and get up.

Impatiently, Jacqueline reached down and grabbed Danny by the front
waistband of his trunks and yanked up. Again the crowd ooohed. The
pressure of the trunks on danny’s balls was painful, but the
humiliation of being manhandled like a doll was worse. As Jacqueline
had yanked him up, she’d gotten a peak at his tiny dick and smiled.
Turning Danny around and grabbing now onto the back of his trunks,
Jacqueline leaned into his ear and said, “You’re a small-dicked
little faggot ain’t ya?” and threw him back into the ring. She’d
briefly thought of spanking the cute jobber’s white ass, but thought
better of it. That’d be too much even for her and Sullivan.

There Danny laid. Motionless. Powerless. Trunks lodged up his ass,
unable to do anything about it.

Sullivan was again on top of him, sitting on his chest, this time
clawing at Danny’s bare chest, again and again, leaving scratch
marks that would take days to heal. Danny cried, real tears this
time, as the announcers yelled, “The referee has to stop this.
Sullivan is maiming this young rookie.”

Danny’s body hurt everywhere. His head was still ringing and his
vision was still going out from the knock on the skull earlier. His
stomach was bruised from the punches, knees and kicks. His back had
absorbed punishment from Jacqueline’s humiliating suplex and
Sullivan dumping him on the TV podium. He could taste the blood that
had come after Sullivan kicked him. It still felt like he had all
his teeth, but who knows. Even his hair – his hair! – hurt from
being yanked and pulled inside and outside the ring.

As Sullivan pulled Danny to his feet again, Danny’s world was
spinning, but he managed to say to his tormentor, “Please stop,
please.”

Sullivan smiled and replied, “Not yet boy.”

The heel again reached down to Danny’s crotch and lifted him into a
bodyslam position. With Danny’s pink trunks residing permanently in
his ass, there wasn’t much material for Sullivan to hold onto so he
took ahold of the top of the waistband to gain leverage over the
rookie. He pulled the band down slightly, revealing just a bit of
the top of Danny’s crack and getting another good pop from the
crowd. Sullivan carried him around the ring like that for a good 30
seconds, making sure the crowd saw his complete domination of this
fool. He’d reduced a hot young guy to a quivering mass of pain, his
trunks used as a weapon against him, publicly humiliating him a way
that few people have ever experienced. As he was carried around the
ring like a child, Danny actually felt a few seconds of peace. For a
brief few seconds, the pain went away and he felt comfortable being
hauled around.

That ended as Sullivan sprinted with Danny’s body and drilled his
back into the corner turnbuckle, turned him upside down, and latched
his boots under the rope, trapping Danny upside down, like a
prisoner strung up by his feet, his wedgied, pink trunks and ass
facing the crowd, which knew, as well as Danny did, that Sullivan’s
famed and feared Tree of Woe was coming.

Perched upside down in his turnbuckle prison, Danny fought a bit
before discovering his locked feet kept him from going anywhere. The
blood rushed to his aching head and he again felt dizzy. He watched
with wide eyes as Sullivan sprinted from the opposite turnbuckle and
delivered a stomach busting knee. Danny felt like puking. Sullivan
went back to the corner and again sprinted toward Danny’s splayed
out body. This time he altered the knee slightly, bringing it
directly into Danny’s balls. The pain rippled up into Danny’s
stomach and he let out a cry. Again Sullivan backed up, and again he
crashed into Danny’s stomach. He did it a fourth time, which led the
ref to plead with the madman, “Come on Kevin, he’s had enough.”

The plea fell on deaf ears. As Sullivan went back for a fifth, body
crushing blow.

Danny was now sliding in and out of consciousness. He was completely
out of it by the time Sullivan delivered a sixth blow. He drifted
back to the land of the living in time to feel Sullivan finally
removing his leg from the corner and his body plummeting back to the
mat. He landed on his stomach, and wasn’t even aware of what
happened next until he saw it later on the TV replay. Sullivan
grabbed the side of Danny’s trunks and his leg and somersaulted him
onto his back, briefly exposing danny’s ass.

He was now centered in the ring, utterly hepless and defeated, his
labored breathing proof of the abuse he’d taken. He knew his trunks
were a mockery now, but he had no power to adjust them, no power to
fend off anything Sullivan wanted to do to him. He was at Sullivan’s
mercy.

Sullivan did one final run against the ropes and then jumped on
Danny’s stomach with both feet, staying there for a few seconds
before leaping off. He covered Danny with a boot as the ref slapped
the three-count.

The crowd and announcers were stunned by Sullivan’s brutality, and
the humiliation the young jobber had to endure. Danny laid
motionless on the mat for several minutes as the referee attended to
him, lightly slapping his cheek until Danny came to.

“Come on son, let’s get you out of here,” the veteran official said.
The ref had seen a lot of rookie destruction in his time, but he
didn’t know if he’d ever seen something like this. And the best
part: this jobber was incredibly hot. Good god, where did Watson
keep finding these boys to trout out in front of a huge crowd in
small trunks? This one might have been the best yet. He had half a
mind to take the youngster back to the lockerroom and rip these pink
panties off him and finish him off. Maybe someday, after Watson was
done with him.

For now he helped danny roll toward the edge of the mat and then
helped him climb out of the ring and get to his feet. He put his
neck under danny’s arm to help him back to the lockerroom. He
thought about telling the kid to reach back and pick the trunks out
of his ass but then decided to leave them. Let the pretty girls and
redneck guys get one more look at what happens to hot jobbers.

One guy in the crowd taunted Danny as he walked out “Nice match,
pantyfag,” but danny barely heard it.
The ref got him into the lockeroom and walked him past the other
wrestlers, who were smirking and shaking their heads at this piece
of rookie meat. Watson appeared, smiling, and told the ref to leave
the youngster on the bench to rest.

He was going to need it. His jobber career was just getting started.

About a month later, Watson waited for Danny to arrive to another TV
taping at their small Atlanta studio. Danny came into the locker
room and cringed a bit when he saw Watson waiting for him on a
bench. That could never be good.

Danny’s life had changed in such a way in 30 days that he hardly
remembered his previous existence, his life before Watson, before he
became a dominated, used wrestling jobber boy. His prematch
drainings of his jobber juice continued. Watson would do it while
forcing Danny to watch old jobber-heel squash matches on videotape.
He wanted to train the boy to understand that his only pleasure was
going to come from being a dominated, degraded jobber. Danny would
be mentally conditioned in a way that meant he’d eventually only get
sexually excited if he was being humiliated as a jobber. Watson
halfjokingly contemplated making Danny wear a chastity cage when he
was away from the arena so that his only release would be in a
jobber-heel context. What he didn’t know was that Danny was already
taking to the training. When he jerked off at home, Danny still
usually thought about women – thought about what it was like being
inside them, what it was like having his ex Katie go down on him -
but more and more, images of him being destroyed as a jobber and
memories of his matches in his pink trunks were invading his
thoughts, usually around the time he was climaxing. He dismissed
this as a fluke thing.

He’d suffered many more humiliations in the last few weeks, but he
tried to forget about them as soon as they happened and move on. But
last week’s TV taping was still sticking in his head. He’d gone
against Adorable Adrian Adonis, a completely out of shape,
borderline morbidly obese heel whose routine was that he was now a
flaming gay guy. He’d remembered Adrian as a tough wrestler when he
was a kid, and it was sort of sad to see him reduced to this role.
But at least he was still a heel. At least he still got to win. At
least he still got to kick some ass.
Against Adonis, Danny escaped having his trunks pulled or yanked.
The only time they were really clutched was when Adonis scooped him
up for a bodyslam and held onto the rear of the pink trunks for a
few seconds. But as the match was ending, Danny was grateful that
he’d escaped too much humiliation in the match. Unfortunately for
him, he didn’t know what Watson had dreamed up for Adonis to do to
him at the end of the match.

For his closer, Adonis got Danny into his patented sleeper move. All
of the 350-pounder’ s weight was on Danny’s back, and his chubby arms
were around his neck and top of his head. Danny could feel the
circulation being cut and he briefly tried fighting the effeminate
heel off. But it was no use. He felt himself drifting off as he
landed on his ass, but Adonis kept the pressure on. The ref lifted
Danny’s arm three times, and three times it fell, forcing the ref to
call the match

Adonis though kept the pressure on a few more seconds, not enough to
do any permanent damage to this simpering jobber, but enough to put
him out for a short time. He finally released him as his manager
climbed into the ring with a large mirror and a pink purse.

Adonis couldn’t stand how he’d been forced to become this prancing
character, but at least he was still able to degrade some young
jobber boys like this. It wasn’t the kid’s fault for what Adrian’s
career had turned into, but he was going to pay. With the rookie out
cold and flat on his back, Adonis dug into the large bag and pulled
out a pink, frilly dress. The crowd, which had been fairly bored up
to that point, went nuts as they realized what was about to happen.
Adonis’s manager picked Danny up from his prone position so he was
sitting. Adrian took the dress and put it over Danny’s head and
worked it down over his body. With his manager sitll holding onto
Danny, Adrian removed some lipstick from the purse and began
smearing it all over the jobber’s lips, not carefully, but smearing
it on, so Danny looked like some two-dollar she-male whore in Times
Square. Adrian grabbed Danny as the manager went to lift up the
mirror. Adrian slapped the boy a few times to get him to start
stirring. When he saw Danny finally coming to, he went behind him,
reached under his armpits and lifted the now feminized jobber to his
feet.

With Danny’s eyes fluttering open, Adrian held up the weakened
jobber by the back of his hair, while also reaching his hand under
the dress to hold onto the back of Danny’s pink trunks, which in his
current garb, certainly looked like a pair of panties. Adrian yanked
up on the trunks to make sure Danny didn’t fall down from the
effects of the sleeper, and the wedgie, coupled with the previous
slaps, brought him to total consciousness. When Danny opened his
eyes, his whole body jolted. He saw himself in the mirror. He saw
Danny Rogers in the mirror. He saw what the crowd and TV audience
saw. He saw his lips smeared with lipstick, he saw a pink dress
covering his body, ending at about his thighs. He felt himself being
held by Adonis and forced to look into the mirror, forced to
confront again what he had been turned into. Adonis and the manager
was cackling, as was the capacity crowd. What the crowd couldn’t
hear was Adonis whispering into danny’s ear, “look at yourself you
little fairy. Look at the little sissy you really are.” Danny
violently shook his head back and forth, but he couldn’t escape the
fatty’s clutches. He was forced to stand there for a good 30 seconds
as the mirror showed him what he’d become. When Adonis was done
showing him off, he turned Danny around, kicked him in the stomach
and delivered a post-match DDT, adding further pain to DAnny’s
incredible insult.

After that match Watson had of course been delighted. He told Danny
he’d jerked off while watching it.

Now, a week later in the locker room, Watson was telling him he was
going to let Danny atone for the previous humiliation. Somehow Danny
didn’t believe him.
“Danny, you ever meet Missy Hyatt?”

Danny said no, which was the truth, but he’d often thought about
Missy Hyatt. He’d had a crush on her since first seeing her on TV as
a teenager. She was such a beautiful woman. Great body, amazing
tits, flirtatious nature, Danny used to dream about maybe having
Missy as his manager one day. Maybe she’d even go out with him
sometime. He’d heard that she didn’t mind dating wrestlers. He’d
jerked off to the image of Missy’s blonde bombshell body many times
as a teenager.
“Well,” Watson continued, “today’s your lucky day.”

Watson laughed, and Danny knew that meant bad news for him. As Danny
sat on the bench next to Watson and listened to the promoter’s plan
for that day’s show, he felt a wave of nausea building up in his
stomach.

A few nights before, at one of the big-event, primetime shows the
promotion ran every few months, Missy’s wrestler, Jeff Jarrett, had
wrestled the veteran heel Terry Funk in a no-holds barred brawl.
Jarrett won the match, but after it was over, Funk viciously
attacked Jeff and Missy. Missy got knocked to the floor, but Jarrett
suffered more. Funk piledrived him into a steel chair, causing a
neck injury that was going to sideline Jarrett for about a month.

Danny had watched all of that from Watson’s office. He didn’t
wrestle at that event – this was a nonjobber event, only big stars -
but Watson had Danny watch it while decked out in his pink trunks,
tied to his office chair, a small butt plug securely lodged in his
bottom. Watson wanted Danny to see what it was he was never going to
get, while wearing the pink trunks that reinforced his jobber state
and wearing a plug that reinforced his submissiveness.

Watson’s plan was this: At the beginning of the regular weekend
taping today, Missy was going to come out to the television
announcers, and rant about Terry Funk. She was then going to offer a
sort of “bounty.” If any wrestler could challenge Terry Funk that
day, at that taping, and beat him, she would agree to go on a date
with that wrestler. And who would take her up on this? Danny, of
course. Danny would come out, say he was going ot take on Funk, and
he would then battle the rugged and mean cowboy. He would lose of
course.

That was the jist of the plan. Watson didn’t want to get into the
particulars about what he’d told funk and Missy about the plan. He
liked surprising Danny with many of the humiliations he dreamed up
for him.

Danny was nervous, and not just because he knew there would be
unanticipated beatings and embarrassments that would surely come his
way. No, he was nervous because he was going to finally meet Missy
Hyatt. Even though he knew he was going to lose, he thought that
maybe he’d impress her enough that she might want to talk to him
outside of the tv tapings, and who knows, maybe he could get a real
date sometime with her. His self-confidence with the ladies had been
severely damaged by his life as a jobber, not to mention the
debasing milkings Watson forced him to endure, but he still thought
there was a shred of his old charm left.

What Danny didn’t know was that Watson’s plan involved Danny finally
being stripped of all his self-esteem, of all his confidence.

“Oh, there won’t be any draining today, Danny, so you don’t have to
come back to the office,” Watson said as he stood up. He slapped him
on the back and told him to be ready in 20 minutes.

No draining? Danny was happy he wouldn’t have to endure that
humiliation, but he also knew it meant he was going to be horny as
hell when he first got to be up close and personal with Missy. Danny
got dressed in his white boots and pink trunks and waited for the
festivities.
A few minutes into the taping at the small TV studio – where there
were only about 6 rows of seating, leaving the fans able to see and
hear everything up close – Missy interrupted the announcers’
blathering. Danny was watching from behind a curtain, waiting for
his cue.

“Jim, Tony, I want to make an announcement to everyone,” Missy said
while wearing a tight white shirt that accentuated her tits, and
tight white pants. Danny thought she looked absolutely gorgeous and
felt a stirring in his groin that he prayed would stay down.

“You know how much I hate Terry Funk. And I will never forgive him
for hurting Jeff. But don’t you worry, Jeff will be back. But I have
an offer for all the wrestlers here today. If any of you can come
out today, and beat Terry Funk, I will go out on a date with you!”

The crowd erupted at this, and the announcers said, “A date? Really
Missy? All they have to do is beat Terry Funk?”

“That’s right, Jim. All they have to do is beat that old, fat, slow,
over the hill cowboy Terry Funk, and they can take me to a movie, to
dinner, to dessert, and maybe…well, who knows where the night will
end.” She giggled after that and the crowd cheered again.

“So if anyone can do this, they should come out right now.”

That was Danny’s cue. Taking a deep breath, he emerged from behind
the curtain and walked into the camera’s view. The crowd cheered,
though many of these people had been there in previous weeks as
Danny was tortured and destroyed. Danny walked up to the announcer’s
podium – a new podium since Sullivan had destroyed the old one with
Danny’s body – and addressed Missy and the broadcast crew.

“I’d like to take that challenge, Miss Hyatt,” Danny said.
“Well, well, well, who we got here,” Missy asked. “What’s your name,
soldier?”

“Danny Rogers, ma’am.”

“Well Danny Rogers. You’re certainly a very, very cute guy.”

Danny felt himself blushing despite himself. God damn Watson. He
really could have had a shot at Missy, but instead his life was
controlled by that maniac.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Call me Missy, Danny. Well, Danny, I think I could have a lot of
fun with you on a date.” With that Missy stepped back a bit and took
a long look at Danny’s body, gazing from top to bottom, and taking
an extra long look at Danny’s package. Poor, confused, boy, Missy
thought to herself. He actually is kind of cute. She sort of felt
sorry for the kid, knowing what was about to happen. But this was
wrestling, the strong survived. And this kid was obviously not
strong enough for Watson’s liking. Now she was back in character:

“Okay, Danny. I want you to take the microphone and challenge that
bastard Terry Funk.”

Danny walked over to the P.A. guy who was seated near ringside and
took the microphone. “Terry Funk, get your butt out here. I got a
whoopin to give you.”
The crowd cheered. They hated FUnk and would love to see someone
beat him – even this pretty boy in pink.

The crowd started chanting, “We want Funk. We want Funk. We want
Funk.” Danny led the cheers. Finally, after a few minutes, the man
himself came out. Terry Funk. Veteran tough guy, mean old SOB,
wearing his cowboy hat, chaps, and carrying his long lasso and
branding iron. Danny felt a twinge of fear when he first set eyes on
Funk. He’d been getting into his role as Missy’s savior, but now he
saw the heel and knew the fun was not going to last. And that
branding iron. Funk had started using it on his opponents at the end
of matches, labeling them on the chest with it after he’d disposed
of them. Danny was pretty sure he’d feel the sting of the iron at
the end of this match.

Funk stared at the crowd with contempt, looked at Danny with
disgust, and then walked to the announcers.

“Missy Hyatt. You saw what I did to your man Jeff. I want you to see
what I’m going to do to this kid now. This is on your hands.”

“He’s going to kick your ass, Terry,” Missy squealed.

Terry walked toward the ring and motioned for Danny to get in. “Get
in the ring, boy.” Danny said, “After you.”

As Funk climbed the steps to the ring, Danny pounced. He drilled him
in the back, forcing Funk to stagger to the concrete floor and
knocking off his ridiculous cowboy hat. Danny delivered a series of
punches to his jaw, and with Funk’s back against the canvas, three
swift chops to the chest that could be heard throughout the studio
and brought oohs and aahs from the audience. He then stuffed Funk
back in the ring under the ropes, but didn’t follow him, instead
racing to the corner and climbing to the top rope. As Funk stood up
and looked around for his opponent, he turned right in time to be
hit in the mouth by a flying dropkick off the top rope. He got a two-
count, and nearly three, before Funk threw him off.

Danny picked Funk up and threw him into the ropes. The young jobber
boy ducked his head in preparation for a back body drop. But as Funk
came off the ropes, he stopped in front of Danny and delivered a
swift kick up that caught Danny right in the chest, flooring the
jobber, turning the momentum of the match, and sealing Danny’s fate.

As Danny kicked around on the mat, in a way that Funk had seen a
thousand jobbers do in his time in the ring, Funk cleared the
cobwebs out of his head. The kid could deliver a dropkick, he
thought to himself. Too bad it was a usless skill for this punk.
Funk slowed Danny’s squirming by delivering a well-placed kneedrop
to Danny’s forhead. He hoisted Danny to his feet and gouged his
eyes, a favorite Funk trick. DAnny staggered backward toward the
turnbuckle, his eyes burning. Funk caught up with him and hooked him
in a headlock. But instead of holding onto it, he sprinted toward
the other corner with Danny in tow and delivered a crushing bulldog.
He turned Danny onto his back and could have got the pin, but
instead pulled him up by his cute brown hair and stopped the count.

He then looked toward Missy at the announcer’s podium and again
pointed at her and mouthed an obscenity. Funk took a hold of the
waistband of Danny’s trunks and fired him out the ring in the
direction of Missy and the other broadcasters. Danny went flying
through the ropes and landed only about five feet from the lovely
Missy. He knew the trunks had ridden up his ass and he knew he was
now facing his dream woman with a wedgie dominating her view of him.
On the air, Missy was saying, “Maybe this kid isn’t as tough as I
thought. I mean, if he can’t beat this old man.”

Funk slowly descended from the ring and picked Danny up by his hair.
Facing Missy, Funk locked Danny’s head between his legs and yelled
at Missy, “How do you like your boy now.” Danny felt himself being
lifted upward as Funk took ahold of each side of his trunks and
pulled up into a piledriver position. Funk landed on his ass while
Danny crashed down on his head onto the concrete. The crowd booed as
Danny flailed on the cement. Funk yelled at the crowd and spit on
Danny’s chest. As he lay there, Danny managed to discretely pick the
left side of his wedgie, but was unable to get the other side. Funk
picked him up, and flung him back into the ring by the side that was
already wedgied, further debasing the pussy jobber.

In the ring again, Funk dragged Danny over to the ropes that were
facing Missy and put the jobber’s head on the bottom rope. The
camera came in real close to Danny’s face, as Funk stood behind him
and held his hair, putting his face right into the camera.

“Take a look Hyatt. This is for you. You did this. This kid’s blood
is on your head.”
Funk then mashed Danny’s throat into the rope and left him with his
head dangling on the rope. Funk took off running against the
opposite ropes and came flying in, landing directly on the back of
Danny’s neck and forcing his throat again into the rope. With Danny
still stuck in that position, Funk repeated the move, robbing Danny
of all his breath. Finally releasing Danny’s head from the rope,
Funk picked up the ragdoll and locked a full nelson on him, swinging
Danny back and forth a bit and further robbing him of any will to
fight. With Danny slumping in his arms, Funk walked toward the rope
and held Danny’s displayed front part of his body up for Missy to
see.

“Take a look at him now, Hyatt. Look at your boy. Anyone else you
wanna send up here after me?”

Missy just shook her head and on air said, “Someone will beat Terry
Funk someday. I didn’t think a wimp would come out and try and do
it.”

Danny felt utterly humiliated being paraded around like this in
front of Missy. He could still see her tits from here, and he felt
his cock rising in his pink trunks. Damn it, he thought, why didn’t
Watson drain him?

Funk could ahve got a submission victory out of the move, but he
didn’t want that. He wanted to hurt this kid. He dropped Danny’s
crumpled body to the canvas and delivered a big boot to the head. He
again raised danny up and stuck his head between his legs. Securing
the jobber between his knees, and ensuring that Danny’s pink-trunked
ass was on full display for Missy, he again scooped up the pansy and
delivered a devastating piledriver. He heard Danny whimper, and knew
the kid really was suffering. No matter. He had to teach him a
lesson, and all the other wrestlers a lesson. For a third time, he
put danny between his legs and lifted him up, this time jumping up
and dropping Danny right on his head. With Danny nearly out of it,
Funk covered him, one hand on danny’s stomach, the other right on
Danny’s groin, pressing down on the jobber’s semihard cock, which
was encased in the pink spandex prison.

But he wasn’t done yet. Funk went and retrieved his rope and brand.
He turned Danny over onto his stomach, who by now, while in a lot of
pain, was completely aware of his surroundings. He suddenly felt
Funk tying his legs together with the rope.

WHAT IS GOING ON? he wondered. With Danny’s legs strung together,
Funk grabbed Danny’s arms and put them behind his back and then
laced them up with the same rope. he had hog tied the youngster like
a common calf. Danny’s half wedgied ass was on full display, and
with his arms stuck on the bottom of his back, Danny was unable to
reach back and pick it. He kicked and squirmed but could not release
himself of his roped shackles. He didn’t know what he had done to
deserve this. Why did everyone seem to make it their life goal to
humiliate him? He looked up into the crowd and saw many smiling
faces as they watched the veteran heel make a fool out of the
jobber. He was trussed up and there was nothing he could do about
it. he next felt Funk’s boot on the small of his back, limiting his
movement and holding him in place.

The next thing he felt was a burning sensation. To the shock of the
crowd, Funk had taken his branding iron and branded Danny on his
ass, on the side where the pink trunks had been forced up his ass,
exposing his right butt cheek. Funk laid the hot iron into Danny’s
flesh as the jobber screamed in real pain. He kept it there for five
seconds, ensuring a deep mark. The crowd was laughing now. Finally,
Funk walked out of the ring, but he left Danny there. Untie me,
Danny thought. Someone, untie me. He again fought to release his
hands but it was hopeless. Funk was an expert and had strung him up
in a way that meant any resistance was futile. Danny couldn’t even
roll over on his back, meaning he had to lay there with his wedgied,
branded butt in full display.

As Danny waited to be released from his shameful condition, the
crowd started cheering and Danny saw Missy climbing into the ring,
holding the PA microphone. Oh god no, he thought. The next thing he
knew Missy’s gorgeous body was circling around him. Missy stopped
while behind him and took a good long look at his ass. “Definitely a
cute ass,” she thought to herself. “Too bad he’s a jobber boy.”
She then spoke to the crowd, and to the fallen pussy in front of her.
“Danny Rogers. You are pathetic! Pathetic!”
Danny looked up like a wounded puppy, straining his neck to see up
to Missy. She continued, “Well, Ladies, what’s the moral of this
story? Never trust a man dressed in pink to do a man’s job.”
The crowd laughed. Danny made eye contact with some women in the
front row and saw them nodding their head in agreemtn. He put his
face down on the mat, not wanting to see the crowd agreeing with
Missy as she tore him apart for losing to Funk. But Missy bent down
and grabbed Danny by the hair so their faces were inches away. Danny
could smell her wonderful perfume, and it agqain reminded him how
much he adored Missy Hyatt. The feelings weren’t mutual. She
screamed now into the microphone, “You arre so disappointing Danny
Rogers. I should have known you were just a little wimp. Look at
you, tied up and nowhere to go. As far as I’m concerned, you deserve
this.” She sounded like a petulant teenager who had been told she
couldn’t have the car for the weekend. With that she threw the
microphone onto Danny’s head, and delivered a hard kick to his ribs,
a final degradation for the jobber.

She stormed out of the ring, and finally a few minutes later an
official came up and untied Danny. The first thing Danny did was
reach back to adjust his trunks on his ass, and this go tanother pop
from the crowd. He went back to the locker room, with his head
bowed, wondering what Watson could possibly have planned next.
***
Watson was proud of himself for what he’d dreamed of for the next
step in Danny’s total destruction, emasculation and humiliation. On
one of the promotion’s off days, he called Danny at his apartment
and told him he had to get on a plane for a match that would be
coming in a few days.

“It’s not a TV taping,” Watson explained, “but we’re going to do a
show at Lakeland High School in Ohio. We like to go to the smaller
towns and do cards to keep the wrestlers in the eyes of our true
fans. The people really appreciate it.”

“Lakeland?” Danny inquired. “Lakeland High School?”

“That’s right boy. Your hometown and former high school. What, you
don’t sound excited?” Watson laughed to himself, wishing he could be
there to see Danny’s defeated face as he learned the news. The
promotion was doing a card in Danny’s old hometown, and Watson
couldn’t wait to see his jobber boy humiliated and degraded in front
of the people he grew up with, in front of his ex girlfriends,
former teachers, old coaches, family, teammates, shopkeepers,
everyone. It would be Danny’s worst night ever. And that was saying
something.

Danny couldn’t believe the news. He’d hardly been home the last few
years because of his college basketball schedule. And since telling
his parents he was entering the world of professional wrestling,
they’d hardly talked to him. He still got occasional emails and
calls from his older sisters who still lived in Lakeland, but he
knew his folks were very disappointed in his decision and didn’t
understand. He couldn’t fathom that he would now have to wrestle in
his pink trunks at Lakeland High, in the gym where he had earned
recognition as an all-state basketball player. But he knew he didn’t
have a choice. Watson had him by the balls, literally and
figuratively.

“Who am I going to wrestle?”

“A good old heel,” Watson said. “Buzz Sawyer.”

Danny remembered watching Sawyer growing up. Like Sullivan, Sawyer
seemed to take special pleasure in destroying jobbers. He made them
hurt, yanked their trunks, tormented them, punished them, without
remorse. Danny never thought he’d have to be jobbing to the madman,
but now he knew his fate.
A week later Danny found himself sitting in his hotel room in his
hometown of Lakeland. His parents had heard he was going to be
there, and put out an olive branch and told him he should stay with
them. He hemmed and hawed and came up with an excuse that he needed
to prepare so he got the hotle room. Thankfully, no one in his
family really watched much wrestling so he knew they hadn’t seen any
of his televised humiliations. He also thought his parents wouldn’t
show up to the event at the school. But he knew so many others from
his past would be there.

Around town, he saw that Watson had printed promotional posters with
Danny’s face, reading, “Watch hometown hero Danny Rogers battle Buzz
Sawyer.” The promotional picture of Danny just pictured him from the
waist up. he was barechested, but the photo didn’t show what was
below: Danny in his sissy pink trunks. He guessed that Watson wanted
it to be a surprise for people when they showed up at the gym and
saw their prodigal son in the humiliating gear.

The day of the match, Danny went to the town’s Wal-Mart to pick up
some toiletries. He went unrecognized until the checkout. The pretty
girl looked at him and said, “Danny? Danny, it’s me, Jennifer
Woods.” Danny looked again at the girl and couldn’t believe his
eyes. The brown-haired beauty standing before him was one of the
best looking girls he’d seen in a long time. This was Jennifer
Woods?

More than four years ago, when Danny was a senior, Jennifer had a
huge crush on him, when she was a sophomore. At the time, she was a
bit chubby, though cute, but Danny didn’t have much time for chubby
sophomore girls, not when he could have any girl he wanted. He
brushed her off at a New Year’s party, but remained friendly with
her. But he hadn’t seen her since his high school graduation.
Jennifer must now be a sophomore or junior in college. And wow, had
she matured nicely.

“Hey Jennifer,” Danny finally said. “Great to see you.”

The two made small talk for a few minutes as no one else was in
line, and finally Jennifer said, “Me and my friends can’t wait for
your match tonight.” Danny felt sick.

“You guys are going?”

“Yeah, we can’t wait. It’s going to be fun watching you kick some
ass, Danny. A lot of people in town can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah, should be fun,” Danny said, and finally excused himself to
leave the store. Great, another person who was going to see him
humiliated and disgraced. He wanted to tell her not to come, but
that would be idiotic.

Hours later, Danny sat in the locker room at his old high school.
The same locker room he’d dressed in all those years as the top jock
in the school, in the entire town. Now he sat there looking at his
gym bag, dreading pulling out the pink trunks. A few minutes
earlier, he’d snuck up for a peek at the crowd. The LAkeland gym
wasn’t real big; about 12 rows of bleachers on both sides of the
basketball court – where the wrestling ring was set up – and then
they had added chairs around the ring. Almost everyone who walked
into the entrance, DAnny knew. He saw his old basketball coach, his
old football coach, he saw five of his old football teammates come
in together, he saw two of his ex girlfriends come in, he saw
Jennifer, the girl from Wal-Mart, come in with three of her very
cute friends, she saw people who ran businesses in town. And then he
saw…his parents! What are they doing here? He couldn’t believe it.
They were with his sisters. They looked pissed to be there, but
Danny figured they thought it was the right thing to do, to support
their son in his new endeavor.

There was one person Danny didn’t see who was now sitting in the
front row of chairs. Chris Smith. He was Danny’s age, but he knew
Danny probably hardly remembered him. Chris had been the biggest
nerd in his graduating class. Everyone always picked on him and his
slight frame, geeky glasses, and uncombed hair. In 11th grade, a
bunch of classmates had held him down after gym class and subjected
him to wedgies. Danny Rogers was one of the ones who gave a tug to
Chris’ tighty whities, as he begged them not to. Danny hadn’t
treated him as badly as many of his classmates, but that was a day
and an event he never forgot. So imagine his surprise years later
when he was watching a television taping of his favorite wrestling
promotion and he saw Danny Rogers introduced. At first he didn’t
think it was the same Danny, but it obviously was. And look what he
was wearing! Chris was stunned as he watched Danny, in skimpy pink
trunks, get destroyed and humiliated by Bob ORton. He’d then seen
his destruction at the hands of Kevin Sullivan. Chris had always had
something of a crush on Danny growing up, but he of course could
never acknowledge it or do anything about it. But he always snuck
peeks in the locker room and loved seeing Danny strutting around.
But seeing him decimated and degraded in those pink trunks was the
biggest turn on Chris had ever seen. His tormentor, on TV, now
receiving the type of wedgies and humiliation he had subjected Chris
to. When he heard Danny was going to be performing in Lakeland, he
knew he had to be there. He knew hardly anyone else in the town
would have watched those wrestling shows, so they didn’t know what
Danny had been turned into: a pink trunks wearing fairy. But they
would all see tonight.And Chris would have a perfect view of it.

Back in the lockerroom, Danny was approached by fellow jobber Kenny
Kendall, a veteran of the wrestling wars. Danny remembered watching
Kenny growing up, and remembered him losing often in tiny blue
trunks. These days Kenny wore long tights, and while still a jobber,
occasionally won a match, and never suffered the type of
humiliations that Danny had to endure. He was sort of a mentor to
Danny. A mentor in the world of jobbing. Kenny sat down next to
Danny and asked who he was wrestling.

“Buzz Sawyer.”

Kenny let out a little whistle.

“Buzz. It’s going to be a tough night, Danny. Just be prepared.”
Danny already knew that but he asked for details.

“Buzz likes hurting guys,” Kendall said. “He doesn’t care at all
about his own body, and even less about his opponents. He especially
likes high-impact moves: suplexes, slams, throwing himself off
ropes, throwing opponents off turnbuckles, action outside the ring,
that sort of thing. And he likes to grab the trunks.”

Danny knew that everyone who faced him couldn’t keep their hands off
his pink trunks so that didn’t surprise him, but it did reaffirm
that this night, in front of friends and fmily, was going to be
utterly humiliating. Kendall lingered on the bench as Danny stepped
into the pink trunks and situated them on his ass and hips.

“Danny, have you ever thought of wearing the athletic briefs that a
lot of guys wear under trunks? They can help with the rideup issues
I know you have with yours.”

Of course Danny had thought about it. He’d begged Watson to let him
wear something under them but the promoter just laughed.

“Watson likes me like this,” he said, and Kendall immediately
understood.

“Well, good luck against Buzz,” he said, walking away to get ready
for his own match.

Shortly after that, Watson appeared and told Danny he was up next.
Danny looked down at the floor as Watson did his inspection of Danny
from head to toe. He grabbed Danny’s balls through the spandex,
turned him around, felt his ass, grabbed his nipples, gave a tug up
on the back of his trunks, and delivered a final slap on the ass
before telling him he was ready to go. Buzz had already been
introduced as Danny heard the announcer – who had been his PA guy
when he was a basketball player at the school – tell the crowd, “And
his opponent. From Lakeland, ladies and gentlemen, your very
own…Danny Rogers!”

With that Danny came walking out of the locker room, and the first
thing he saw was the stunned looks on the faces of the first group
of people to see him. They applauded softly, but eveyrone was
staring at Danny’s pink trunks. Danny caught a glimpse of his old
basketball teammates, and saw that they were doubled over in
laughter, as if it was a complete joke. He saw an ex girlfriend, who
was hitting her friend in the shoulder, in shock. He saw Jennifer
from Wal-Mart and she was staring with her mouth slightly open, but
she continued cheering loudly. He saw his parents, sitting,
motionless, expressionless. Much of the crowd was cheering,
apparently not caring that their hometown hero was outfitted in pink
trunks.

Danny played the role of babyface to perfection though and kept
smiling as he climbed into the ring. He leaped over the ropes and
gave a double thumbs up to the crowd. The second he turned his back
to Buzz, though, the beefy heel came sprinting across the ring to
deliver an elbow Danny’s back, sending Danny to the turnbuckle.
Sawyer didn’t like wasting time with jobber boys, especially pansies
like this one. He wanted to humiliate and hurt them and the faster
he could get to the action, the better. He knew this was the kid’s
hometown, and he wanted to make sure it was a match no one would
forget. He took Danny and delivered a hip toss that threw the 210-
pound jobber halfway across the mat. Danny landed awkwardly on his
tailbone and he could feel the pain reverberating up his back.
Sawyer took a second to taunt the crowd before walking back over to
DAnny.

He went behind him and scooped him up for an atomic drop, which
further damaged Danny’s aching ass and tailbone. The crowd oohed and
aahed as the destruction of their hometown hero began. Buzz walked
over and with danny prone on his stomach, rubbing his bottom, picked
him up to his feet by his brown hair. Buzz loved controlling a boy
by his hair. It wasn’t quite as satsifying as humiliating a man
through his trunks – which Danny was going to experience in a very
short time – but he loved the sounds of pain a jobber delivered
whenever his hair was pulled. Buzz loved working all parts of a man,
from head to toe. To that end, he reached between Danny’s legs,
grabbed on to part of his balls and part of the kid’s inner thigh
and scooped him up. He held him in that position, with Danny
dangling above the mat, face down, for about five seconds and
dropoped the kid onto his knee for a devastating stomach buster.
Danny felt like puking as he rolled around on the mat. He heard
someone from the crowd yell, “YOU CAN DO IT DANNY,” the same type of
cheer he heard on the basketball court all those years. But now he
knew he couldn’t do it.

Buzz liked the feel of Danny’s balls so much he decided to deliver
another emasculating stomach drop. This time he stood Danny up and
made sure the crowd saw what he was doing, as he slowly reached
between the jobber boy’s legs, grabbed him this time fully by the
balls, and hoisted him up. He heard Danny let out a primal moan as
he was being manhandled by his balls. Buzz delivered another stomach
buster and Danny yelped in agony, clutching onto his stomach, adn
discretely trying to grab his balls.

Jennifer from Wal-Mart watched the action with wide eyes. How she
had once longed to grab Danny’s balls, but now she couldn’t believe
what she was witnessing. Part of it made her happy though. Danny had
hurt her with the rejection years ago, and she knew it was just
because she was a bit chubby. Now he was paying for whatever other
sins he had committed in the past. Buzz now thought it was time to
take the fun outside the ring.

He settled the writing jobber down by picking him up and grasping
firmly to the back of his hair and the back of his trunks, a
position Danny had grown all too familiar with. Buzz fired the kid
over the top rope and onto the basketball court below, where Danny
landed with a thud at the feet of Chris Smith. Danny was on his
stomach, his ass jsut feet from Chris, who stared at his now-wedgied
tormentor with a growing hardon. God, this was even better than he
expected. Watching his strong heel destroy Danny Rogers was the
greatest sexual experience of his life.

And he knew it was only going to get better. He leaned over to Danny
and said, “Hi Danny, it’s Chris.” In his pain, Danny managed to lok
up and see Chris Smith. He instantly recognized the kid and a second
later remembered the wedgie him and his friends had delivered to him
after that gym class. He knew Chris was now enjoying watching him
get this punishment.

Buzz was perched on the ring, waiting for Danny to get to his feet.
The second he did, he leaped from the canvas and came down on
Danny’s head with both hands clenched together, sending Danny
crashing. Buzz looked at the crowd and again yelled at them while
spitting on Danny’s heaving, hairless chest. Danny tried getting to
his feet but as he got to his knees, he found his face right in
Buzz’s hairy crotch, which was encased in his traditional black
trunks. Buzz grinned. He wouldn’t mind having the kid down there
after the match too, but now there was business to do. He picked up
the helpless boy and lifted him up for another apparent atomic drop.
But instead of dropping Danny on Buzz’s knee, the heel dropped him,
crotch first, right on the ringside railing! The crowd groaned with
Danny, whose balls had now received three straight punishments.

He was stuck there, nearly impaled on the ring, until Buzz grabbed
his hair and Danny plummeted back to the court. Sawyer picked Danny
up again and held him up horizontally, his hand pulling down the
back of Danny’s trunks, revealing to the crowd Danny’s crack. Chris
gasped slightly in the crowd. He had seen Danny’s ass plenty of
times in the locker room, but never shamefully displayed in this
manner. Sawyer held his captive like that for several seconds,
spinning around with him so all could see the jobber’s crack. Many
were pointing and laughing at their former hero. Buzz then sprinted
toward a ring post and rammed the bottom of Danny’s back into it,
before releasing him as he slumped to the floor in agony.

Danny’s pink trunks were mildly wedgied up his ass, but that changed
as Buzz grabbed ahold and marched him back to the ring. Danny saw
one of his ex girlfriends who started outright laughing as Buzz
pulled up on the back, forcing Danny to go to his tip toes as he was
paraded back to the ring. Buzz threw him under and danny was again
sporting a pink thong. There was a murmur going through the crowd,
sort of nervous, sort of giggling, sort of still cheering their
hero, who was being degraded and dominated in a way none of them
could have ever imagined.

Danny stood up and readjusted the trunks, though they still looked
ridiculous, they weren’t quite lodged up his ass anymore. Buzz came
running in and met Danny with a flying body block. He went for a pin
but Danny easily kicked out, as Buzz knew he would. He brought Danny
to his feet and hooked his arm over his head, preparing the
youngster for a suplex. Instead of grabbing the side of the trunks,
as most wrestlers did in a traditional vertical suplex, he took a
hold of the front and lifted up. Not only did this put some more
pressure on DAnny’s balls, but it gave Buzz a great look at the
jobber’s tiny cock as he held him up in the air. Cameras were again
flashing in the crowd as Danny was held high in the air. Buzz lost a
bit of control of Danny’s body, but by clutching the trunks a bit
more, gained control of him.

He finally dropped backward, completing the painful move. It was
time to work this kid’s back now. Buzz walked danny over to a
turnbuckle and lifted him up, again in the position of an atomic
drop. But this time he sat him down on the turnbuckle, so danny was
sitting on it, but facing the crowd. Danny had no idea what was
going to happen. He’d been perched up like this facing the opposite
way for Orton’s superplex, but who knew what Sawyer had planned.
Sawyer climbed to the second rope and took ahold of Danny, putting
his arm over his neck and grabbing onto his stomach. He fell
backward, dropping Danny from the top turnbuckle in a belly to back
suplex from six feet up. The force of the landing led Danny to
propel over and he ended up on his stomach. Buzz walked over and
delivered a pair of devastating kicks to danny’s head and back.

Ready to finish him off, Buzz picked him up and again reached in for
a slam, but this time he carried him over to the turnbuckle. Gently,
he laid danny down on the turnbuckle and the rope, so that his body
was laying on his side in the corner. Buzz climbed to the second
rope, and reached under danny’s ass to feel the silky pink material.
Danny suddenly felt himself being picked up and again military
pressed, this time above Sawyer’s head on the ropes. The crowd
couldn’t believe its eyes as Danny was displayed in the corner for
everyone to see, the pink trunks completely ldoging up his ass
again. Sawyer held him like that for five seconds, then leaped
backward, flinging Danny’s body across the way. Danny landed in a
heap and on his stomach, unable to move. Buzz went over, grabbed him
by the side of the trunks to pull him over and covered him for the
humiliating pin.

But he wasn’t done with this hometown stud. Buzz picked him up by
the hair and again threw him back over the ropes. Some of Danny’s
old teammates yelled at him, “Come on Rogers, you’re a pussy now.”
But Danny ignored them, just wishing that Buzz would leave him alone
so he could make the walk back to the locker room, and out of the
gym, and out of Lakeland. He looked up where his parents had been
sitting, but their seats were vacated. He couldn’t imagine what they
were thinking. Sawyer made his way down, and grabbed a chair from
someone sitting down, tossing them off it. He came over and as Danny
stood up, hammered him in the head with it. Danny went down like
he’d been shot, and he went dizzy. He tried reaching back to pick
out the massive wedgie in his ass, but before he could Buzz had
picked him up. Again Buzz reached down and scooped him up for a
military press, this time only feet from the crowd. Buzz held him up
like that for what seemed like an eternity, the crowd getting
perfect look at Danny’s pink trunks and the wedgie that had become a
permananent part of his life. Buzz dropped Danny down and delivered
a powerslam out of that position, and Danny wondered if his ribs had
been broken.

Sawyer started barking like a dog at the crowd as Danny laid there,
nearly unconscious. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he thought.

“Fight back, Danny,” some pathetic fan yelled, apparently not
realizing how out of it Danny was. But Danny summoned something deep
in his soul and managed to stand up as Buzz continued to taunt the
crowd. His back was now to Danny and Danny went to punch it. Buzz
turned around and Danny swung feebly…completely missing. His
momentum carried him forward and he fell over Buzz’s shoulder, who
scooped him up like a child. And there Danny was, all the power
drained out of him, trunks lodged up his ass, hanging over Buzz’s
soldier as Sawyer’s’s hand held Danny’s ass in place. Danny had no
more power and laid there limp. Buzz walked around the ring one more
time, giving the fans one final look at Danny. That would be the
final image Lakeland would have of their hometown hero on this
night, as Sawyer slowly walked back with Danny’s carcass to the
locker room.

Back in the locker room, Sawyer dumped him on the floor in front of
some other wrestlers, including Kendall. They all looked as the
madman just walked away and into his locker room. The wrestlers
cleared out, leaving Danny to lay there on the locker room floor,
his old floor. Beaten, destroyed, wedgied, humiliated, emasculated.
He knew he could never return home after this night. And he knew
that was exactly what Watson had planned all along. He was now
Watson’s jobber boy. Forever.

Hello. Hope you enjoy my stories and dreams about being a dominated jobber. Would love to hear from wrestling fans who enjoy squash jobs or anyone who wants to dominate me in the ring in the way I write about