Marcus kissed me outside the dungeon.
“I want you to know, I just really love you,” he said. “I’m so glad we are here together.”
“Me too, sweetheart. I love you, too,” I said, resting my head against his neck. “Now, are you ready to get your ass kicked?”
“As if,” he laughed.
“You two are too much,” a trannie called from a bench, where she sat with her girlfriend.
“And you are too gorgeous,” Marcus replied. “Do you want to wrestle tonight?”
“No, baby, I’m one hundred percent a lady. But thanks anyway.”
A few people had already gathered for the evening’s match. Marcus’s Bi Men’s Wrestling Contest—inspired by our impromptu tussle that morning—had proved to be a popular attraction. It would kick off an evening full of events, leading into the Sex Idol Contest and the much-anticipated Garden of Carnal Delights.
I was facing it all on nearly no sleep. Marcus was no better rested, and he now found himself much on center stage as the coordinator of the match. He also planned to participate in the Sex Idol Contest by demonstrating his ability to insert his testicles into his ass, a practice he dubbed “shurgging.”
We also anticipated a tour of active duty in the Garden, as Lolita had promised to make things happen for us.
I found a chair and sat to rest for a moment.
Marcus and Barry began to debate the rules we would follow. As it happened, Barry had wrestled in high school and college.
A camp staffer was wiping down the mats in preparation.
“Okay,” Barry said. “So we’ll stay with a three count on two shoulders down. We’ll count one, two, three, and you’re pinned. Best two out of three sets wins a match.”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Marcus said. “But when they lose, they should have to say they submit.”
“And they should wrestle nude, right?” I asked.
“They can submit, I guess,” Barry allowed. “We can keep points. I can track that. Like, it’s two points on a takedown, one point on an escape, two points on a reversal . . .”
“No, no,” Marcus shook his head. “No scoring points. This is like an erotic show, not a real match. So when they submit, they should be required to do anything the winner wants—suck cock, whatever.”
“So they wrestle nude, right?” I asked.
“Yes, Jefferson, we wrestle nude,” Marcus said, wearily. “Now can you please take your mind out of the gutter and do something constructive?”
I opted to talk up potential wrestlers.
It was Saturday night, and the dungeon was already filling with doms and subs there to use the facilities.
At the entrance, one woman was blindfolded and restrained to a Saint Andrew's cross as her bare body was gently knifed. She was awfully pretty, I noticed, with her moist lips parted as she sighed.
Near the mats, a woman was suspended from a frame, also blindfolded as she was lightly flogged by a nude couple. The man took the front as the woman took the back. Their submissive’s mouth seemed frozen in a permanent smile.
Across the gym, a group of naked men jerked off as they surrounded a woman supported in a sling. The group was well into a gangbang; she sucked two cocks and grunted as she was briskly fucked.
Her noises eventually attracted Barry’s attention. He dropped his pants and walked over to inquire how long he would need to wait to have a go at her.
He was told it would be about forty minutes.
That being a long time to wait, Barry contented himself by doing pull-ups, nude in the center of the dungeon.
Music played lowly from a sound system. I caught part of Sarah McLachlan’s “Sweet Surrender.”
I asked one beefy fellow if he wanted to join the wrestlers. He declined.
I asked another young man. He looked to his girlfriend and demurred.
I expected such responses. Some fellows might be resistant to wrestling at all, much less as part of a something billed as a naked throw down among bi men.
“Come on,” I said. “If you don’t wrestle, I’ll have to, and believe me, no one wants to see that. I fight dirty and I cry like a girl.”
I cajoled, but I didn’t want to press the point. He seemed slight and kind of pasty. It’s possible he was worried about being trounced.
“We’re taking care to be sure everyone is evenly matched,” I offered as assurance.
“Go ahead,” his girlfriend nudged. “It’ll be fun.”
He looked at her, then at me. “Okay, sure,” he agreed. “Why not?”
I sent him to Marcus to get his match assignment.
“How’s it going?” Viviane asked. She had walked to the dungeon with Lolita and Selina following dinner.
“Not bad,” I said, looking around. “We’re getting a good crowd, right? And a few men are ready to take to the mats.”
“That’s nice.” She put her hand on my back. “Don’t hurt yourself, okay, sweetie?”
I kissed her hair. “Don’t worry. If I have to wrestle at all, it will be quick business. I’m nobody’s athlete.”
“Okay.” She lowered her voice. “Please don’t wrestle Barry.”
“Uh, not likely. That boy means business.”
Marcus signaled for me. I joined him and a handful of other men as he went over the rules.
“ . . . and if you are pinned, you have to say ‘submit,’ and do anything the winner asks of you.”
“What do you mean, anything?” my recruit asked.
“Let’s say it’s negotiable,” I suggested. “No one should do anything he’s not comfortable doing.”
“Fine, whatever,” Marcus said, impatient with debating fine points. “No one’s asking anyone to get his ass fucked. It’s a wrestling match, okay?”
First up were Barry and Will, a powerful-looking bear of an Aussie. They stripped their shirts and took positions.
Barry circled Will, squatting low to take advantage of his opponent’s height.
“I thought they were supposed to wrestle nude,” Viviane complained. “Judges!”
“Right, we’ll fix that in the next round,” Marcus said, just as Will hit the ground.
“Submit!” Barry commanded. “Submit!”
“Right, right, I submit, you strong bugger.”
Barry jumped back, rotating his arms and bouncing on his heels. “Yes!”
“Now what, I have to suck his cock?” Will asked.
“Yes, that would do,” Marcus said.
“Fine. I owe you a blowjob anyway, you bugger. Come here.” Will raised himself to kneel on the matt. Barry stood before him and lowered his shorts. Will took the victor’s cock in his mouth and pumped his head back and forth.
“Right,” he said. “That’s done. Now, let’s go again.”
Two more rounds, and Will was out three blowjobs.
“Awesome!” Barry said. “Who’s next?”
“Well, come on, we can’t keep throwing opponents at you,” Marcus said. “We’ll run out of men. Let’s do different matches and see who wins. Then we can match the winners.”
“You sure?” Barry asked. “Because eventually I’ll get tired. Someone could beat me.”
“I’m sure,” Marcus said indulgently. “All right, Jefferson . . . let’s match you with Switchme. Come here, guys.”
We huddled. “All right, look,” Switchme said. “This is all good fun, but I’m worried about my back. So let’s not get too rough.”
“That’s fine, I’m a wuss,” I said. “This is all for show. Which reminds me: we should be nude.”
“I have no problem with that,” Switchme said, lowering his shorts.
I tossed my shorts to Viviane.
Switchme and I took to the mat. We crouched as we circled one another, our arms poised for a good position. I was concerned about Switchme’s back, and mindful that he had about ten years on me.
We had to take it easy. Still, I wanted to put on good show. I bounced on my feet, circling him and talking trash.
Switchme lunged for my knees. I was down instantly.
He pinned me before I knew what had happened.
Barry pounded the mat three times. “Submit!” he ordered.
“Ugh,” I winced. “Submit!”
Switchme sat back and smiled. “Sorry about that, Jefferson,” he smiled. He took my cock in his hand and gave me a quick handjob.
I took the opportunity to stare up at the gym ceiling and catch my breath.
Switchme patted my hip and offered me a hand. He pulled me up. We were on for another go.
I focused as we got into position.
“Go for his legs, Jefferson,” Barry shouted. “His legs!”
Right. Go for his legs.
Maybe I should’ve asked for a few basics before agreeing to do this.
I reached for his legs. Switchme twirled and grabbed my thighs, knocking me down.
He pinned my shoulders. I struggled to pull one of them off the mat.
“Yes, yes!” Barry shouted. “Defense, man!”
A nearby dom shushed us.
I heard the sound of a cane hitting flesh, and instantly regretted that I had not made other plans for the evening.
I groaned as I twisted free.
Switchme was on me again.
I soon took another handjob. A third.
I shook his hand and retired to my seat near Viviane. “Well,” I panted. “That was quick work.”
“You’re a lover, sweetie,” she rubbed my shoulder. “Not a fighter.”
I sat back to wheeze and watch the next match. Marcus was taking on the pasty fellow I had recruited. As he stripped, I saw that Marcus’s opponent had very defined muscles.
I would later learn that he had wrestled in high school, not so long ago.
They squared off. They circled for only a few paces before lunging at one another. Marcus’s opponent grabbed him around the waist and lifted him from the ground.
“Shit!” Viviane said, covering her mouth.
Marcus landed, then grabbed for his opponent. He lifted him fast, turning so that they began to tumble. Marcus caught his fall on the mat.
His opponent took advantage of a momentary imbalance to lift Marcus again.
Marcus went up and came down hard. His sudden landing caused the mat to shift. Marcus fell, bringing his opponent down with him.
“Shit!” Marcus shouted, writhing on the mats. His face was contorted in pain. “My knee! Fuck—my knee!”