A bit about how I got started in real life with being obsessed with being a jobber.
When I was in fifth grade, I playfully wrestled my best friend, who lived across the street. We always watched the Legends of World Class Championship Wrestling on ESPN. So one summer day we start wrestling around. At one point, he brought me between his knees. He wasn’t standing, just kneeling, so it was like a mini pile driver. But he lifted me up for a piledriver/suplex. But he did it by slapping both of my buttcheeks, grasping my shorts and pulling up harshly. I wasn’t expecting that and as I was lifted onto my head, my tight green briefs could be seen by him. And he said, “Nice panties.” I was so embarrassed, but was helpless, just standing on my head as he fell backward. It didn’t really hurt but I played it out, like a jobber would. He dominated the whole match. We somehow fell into jobber/heel roles even though we didn’t know what they were. He kept doing that move and I kept allowing it, each time feeling my green briefs on display. At one time he said he wanted to try a real suplex but I was scared to have the trunks grabbed even more and demurred. Not to mention it probably would have been impossible for him to pull off and he might have broken my neck.
And he was a heel, always getting into trouble, mischief, and later into trouble with the law. And I was the good kid, All-American boy. And a jobber. We had a few matches like that. Then, 8th grade. We watched a Clash of the champions and decided to wrestle again. By this time I knew I LOVED wrestling and jobbers and humiliation. So I wore shorts again and this time had a pair of Duke athletic underwear underneath. But they were a pair that had turned pink because my mom washed them with red clothes. I never wore them to school again obviously, but for this I wore them, knowing he’d probably yank my shorts again. And sure enough, he did.
This time he also pulled up on the waistband of the shorts, like Terry Funk used to or Barry Windham sometimes, and he could see the pink undies. Again he said, “Nice panties,” and dropped me. In any other context he would have laughed at me, but in this case he was a heel, but was also humiliating me for my garb. I kept allowing him to get me into that position. One time he completely ignored the shorts and just yanked on the pink undies, huge wedgie, and got me into position for the closing piledriver as I let him pin me.
As far as I know he’s not gay. In fact I walked in on him having sex with a girl I’d dated 9 months earlier when I was 20, but had never had sex with. So he sort of cuckolded me too, in addition to turning me into a jobber as a kid. We’ve never talked about those matches. The thing was, I was a superior athlete, even as a kid, and could have kicked his ass in a real fight. But I was such a submissive jobber boy, and he obviously liked embarrassing me, that I allowed myself to be used. Started a lifetime of jobber desires.