I’ve had the chance over the years to meet up with some heels and have had some amazing times. Yet so much of my jobber life — such as it is — remains in my head. And I realize it will probably always be that way. I have a real life and real responsibilities and family and significant others and on and on and on and the idea of being able to explore ALL of my jobber fantasies…well, I realize it’s probably not realistic. So be it. I still have these desires and at some point I would love to experience some of these things (or, of course, all of them). If there’s anyone who thinks they can make any of these happen, as always, feel free to email at firstname.lastname@example.org. Especially if you’re east of the Mississippi.
MILITARY PRESSED, BY BOTTOM OF MY TRUNKS
Anyone who’s read my stories probably could have guessed this one. Want to meet up with someone who’s strong enough to lift me above their head for a military press, by clutching my trunks and holding them above my ass. In the way Nikolai Volkoff used to do to his foes before dropping them into a backbreaker. Bob Orton was great at this. So was Hercules. If you want to drop me into a backbreaker, fine. Or just drop me to the mat. But I want to be hoisted up like a “sack of potatoes.” I want the heel to hold me by the neck or chin. I want to feel powerless as I’m pressed and the trunks wedgie up my ass while you put me on display, the drool going down my chin, my legs kicking helplessly as you hold me or press me a few times before dropping me to your knee or the mat.
WEARING REAL PRO WRESTLING TRUNKS, COMPLETE WITH FITTING
A few years ago, as you might have read on this here blog, I came very close to meeting up with a seamstress who was going to make me real pro wrestling trunks. I always wrestle in speedos. Feminine speedos or bikini bottoms that add to the humiliation but I’ve longed for real pro wrestling jobber trunks. Like Tommy Angel’s or Red Tyler’s. A great seamstress emailed with me and she was into the idea of making them pink or floral and having them ride up a bit in the ass to give me a wedgie which I love but unfortunately we were never able to followthrough. So this remains a dream. To meet a seamstress. To go in for a fitting with someone who knows I’m not just looking for pro wrestling trunks. No, I want jobber trunks. Revealing, embarrassing trunks. Measure me. Then make them for me, have me try on different pairs perhaps. And then maybe see me get destroyed in a match while wearing the trunks she designed!
A MATCH IN FRONT OF AN AUDIENCE
I’ve wrestled in front of selected audiences before. A female there to humiliate me while her man destroyed me. A horny old man playing the role of a ref. But never in front of a real audience. I picture, of course, a ratty old high school gym or a VFW somewhere or a bar and there I am, in my jobber trunks, facing a crowd of 20 or 30 or whatever, all there to see a jobber get hammered and humiliated. I want to be thrown in front of the crowd and land at the feet of the pretty high school girls in the front row who squeal when I pick my wedgie out of my ass. I want some drunk redneck to call me a fag as the heel slaps me silly. I want the crowd to snicker as I walk from the locker room to the ring, my fantasies finally becoming reality and me being terrified in the process. I want to be counted out 1 2 3 with my leg hooked as the audience takes pictures of my domination and degradation. T
TAG TEAM MATCH, ME TAKING BRUNT OF PUNISHMENT
This wouldn’t necessarily have to be in public. Private would be fine. But a tag team match where I’m the designated jobber who suffers at the hands of not one but two heels. After about a minute of my jobber partner getting a bit of offense and then some punishment, he tags me in and I climb into the ring to be worked over for like 7 minutes, a nice long squash match featuring brutal double teams, total humiliation. My partner in jobber crime can only watch helplessly as I’m sent through the ringer.
DESTROYED BY FEMALE WRESTLER
A woman who takes me on in mixed match and completely takes me apart and emasculates me. Think the way Jacquelyn used to tear through jobbers while working under Kevin Sullivan. Or a private pro wrestler who takes on men for a fee but is strong enough to, say, piledrive me by yanking up on my trunks. Or suplex me. Or body slam me, picking me up by reaching under my crotch and hoisting me up. Slaps me around, verbally humiliates me.
MEETING ONE OF MY JOBBER HEROES
Years ago I had the chance to exchange emails with Red Tyler and it was awesome — and informative! But I’d love to have coffee or lunch or a sitdown with a jobber from the past: Red, Tommy Angel, Emory, Trent Knight, Ron Cumberledge, so many. An even bigger fantasy? One of these jobbers offers to give me a private match where I get to play the role of jobber and they get to take out years of frustration.
Like I said, I realize most of these won’t ever happen but a guy can dream. So if anyone can help fulfill them, hit me up!