Wrestler's Revenge

When a VIP patron came into my inbox with a bit of inspiration, I knew exactly the story that I wanted to write. Check it out below, and VIP members, head over to the Discord to see all of the photos and videos that he shared to help me get focused.

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Hearing the locker door slam against the wall, we all knew exactly who had arrived- Trevor.

Everything he did was distinct- the way his Southern drawl slowly made its way through a story, the way he loudly entered every room, and unfortunately, the way he pinned men with ease in the wrestling ring. He’d moved up here about three months ago, and he’d been a burr in our sides ever since.

The other five men in the locker room shared a glance as Trevor came in, music spilling from his headphones, and we continued getting ready before the incessant small talk began. He was wearing loose sweats and a hoodie, and as he took those off, he was already dressed in his gear like usual. We had a theory that he had to look perfect, so his girlfriend helped him get dressed at home since he couldn’t do it himself.

But that wasn’t what really bugged us, and it wasn’t that he was an amazing wrestler either- we were all good. The problem is that he wouldn’t let himself be bad. None of us were good enough for the Olympics, so we knew that we weren’t wrestling for real. This was theater- everyone knew that except for Trevor. He wouldn’t let himself lose even when the manager threatened to fire him. After that night, he had a change of heart and decided to make Trevor the villainous character, the one who could easily handle any of us. He hadn’t been pinned in months, but that would hopefully change tonight.

As I finished lacing up my boots, I turned around to see Trevor about to tell me something, but I closed my locker and pretended not to notice. It was no big deal- he was already telling Marcus beside him instead about the sex he had last night with his girl.

“So there we were, out on the balcony with her in nothing but that little pink thong…”

Same story, different details- every single night.

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For the last hour, I’d been camped out behind the bleachers, tuning out the earlier matches with noise cancelling headphones. On my laptop in front of me, I had film of all of Trevor’s last matches, and I was studying them just as I had been for the last few nights. I was scheduled to fight him in the last bout of the night, and of course, because our manager was a fucking pushover, I was meant to lose. Not tonight though- not if I could actually beat him.

As I heard the ref call the current match, I stuffed my gear into my bag and headed towards the entrance. Trevor was already standing there, wearing his red leather vest and matching trunks that clung to his meaty ass, I was wearing basically the exact same outfit in blue. Looking down at me even though he was just an inch or two taller, Trevor smirked as we walked out into the ring.

There was no WWE budget here- we were in a college’s gym without pyrotechnics or lighting. The only thing we had was music blaring through the speakers before the announcer took over the mic. Once that flip was switched, I tuned him out and focused on what I needed to do. As the crowd started getting into it, I had to tune them out as well.

Now that the scripts always favored Trevor, he was completely fine following them which made this easier. I knew exactly what he’d do, and for the first part of the fight, he knew exactly what I’d do. He’d pin me and then hype up the crowd as I laid there catching my breath. I’d slowly get to my feet before doing the same thing again.

“Stay down, Davey. You can’t handle a real man like me!”

The third time should be when I stayed down for good, and he’d plant his foot on the side of my chest, pressing down just a bit too hard.

Instead, I got up a bit quicker, a bit sprier. Pulling off my vest, I threw it into the first few rows, baring my sweaty, hairless chest to everyone. Trevor turned around with a dumb look on his face, but he was too good to show it to the crowd. Tearing off his own vest, his hairy chest was revealed next, and as he spun around to face me, sweat sprayed off his hunky body. As I drank in the sight of him in front of me, I was very, very glad that these trunks were impossibly tight.

With a gruff yell, he charged at me, but I’d studied his real moves and knew just how to dive to the left to catch him off balance.

We tussled for a bit more, and it was tougher for him to catch me without my vest to grab onto. Moving faster than usual, I was evading him long enough to tire him out- just so that I could make my move. Finally, I had him, darting to my left again, I spun around and trapped him between me and the ropes still facing the other way. Hoping that his trunks weren’t as tight as mine, I pretended to trip and grab onto his waistband. Pulling with all of the force that I had, I fell to the ground.

Opening my eyes, I saw the red trunks still in my hand, and his ankles right in front of me. I quickly got to my feet again to prepare for my next move, but there was no need- he was frozen. Still standing in the exact same spot, I stood in shocked silence with the crowd before the laughter erupted.

When Trevor was talking about his girlfriend’s pink thong earlier, he neglected to mention that he was wearing a matching version tonight. Most wrestlers did in case of a wardrobe malfunction, but they were always the same color as their shorts… and without lace detailing.

Turning around, there was now true, unscripted rage in Trevor’s eyes as he lunged for me, but he tripped on his own shorts still bunched up around his feet. Falling flat onto the mat, his ass seemed to jiggle in slow motion. Mesmerized, I didn’t even see his arms grab onto my calves and yank me off my feet as well. Falling forward, my knees made contact with his head, and I face planted right between those massive, meaty globes of his ass. The smell of musk was dripping off of him, and in a stroke of genius, I knew exactly what to do as Trevor winced in pain.

Spinning around as the crowd got to their feet, I kept my face motorboating his butt until I’d rotated myself around. Now, I gripped my teeth onto the lacy material and began to pull it down while his hands were still wrapped around his head. He didn’t know what I was doing at first, but once he figured it out, it was too late. Trying to crawl out of reach, he helped me out by lifting up his weight, and the thong easily flew down his legs as I crawled back against the ropes.

Standing up, there were about two fateful seconds before he thought to cover himself, but that was all that was needed.

“Look at that little thing!”

“That’s the smallest dick I’ve ever seen!”

“Is it an innie?!”

Trevor’s cheeks were now as red as the trunks that I’d stolen, and he covered his dick with his hands too late to block the first wave of photos. He was obviously soft, but he couldn’t have been more than an inch or two down there as flashbulbs shined down on him from every angle. Staring daggers at me, I knew that he wanted to keep fighting, but there was no way that he could without showing off that tiny pecker of his again.

Accepting defeat, he ducked down between the ropes, showing off his sweaty pink hole to everyone in the process, before running out of the arena back to the locker rooms. Grabbing the discarded thong, I waved it around like a victory flag as chants of Tiny Trevor, Tiny Trevor roared out from the crowd.

My manager put me on two weeks of unpaid leave, so I was able to be in the crowd to see the newly monikered Tiny Trevor fight his next bout. He would lose this one, and it would be his last match here before moving again with his girlfriend and their extensive collection of thongs.

As for me, I was the new top dog now. With the pay increase, I kept winning and losing based on what the script told me- I didn’t care. The only thing that could have ruined it for me is if anyone found out that I still wore Trevor’s little thong under my trunks for good luck…