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Loserboy's day dream was shattered by an explosion of pain in his chest that jolted him backward. He glanced down to find a red welt across his chest. - ”What was that he gasped”, rubbing his stinging pecs. Lycravillain locked him in a steely stare and replied: - "Lesson number one, delivered by way of a pec chop. Always keep your attention focused on your opponent. He's out to get ya. Now lace my mask up." |
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Loserboy was cross examined concerning his wrestling experience. That was short because he didn't have very much. Outside of a little horse play with his buddies and trying a few pro holds on his friends, he was a green horn. That is lower than a rookie. He did add as an after thought that his two favorite holds were the Boston Crab, and the Camel Clutch, although he wasn't sure if he could pull them off in a real match. Lycravillain just shook his head in disgust and muttered under his breath about wasting his time. Loserboy panicked. - "Come on man, you promised you'd give me a chance, pleaseeeeeeeeeee." - "Yeah, yeah. Right. OK, already! Knock off with the sad puppy dog eyes. You’ll get yer chance. Just don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” Lycravillain gruffly replied. “Now Loserboy, there are three magic words that sum up submission wrestling: Heel, Jobber, and Pain. If that’s too much for ya, just remember the Pain.” Thus the first lesson had begun with Lycravillain explaining his own personal philosophy of wrestling. It was based on capturing, controlling and tormenting his opponent, mind and body, ever so slowly. Taunting and humiliating him until Lycravillain allowed him to submit. There was to be no question as to who was the “Man”. Jobbers were on the losing end, but more than just losing, they had to sell the pain to the crowd. It had to do more than look real, the suffering had to be real. Jobbers had to fight the inevitable submission until the pain stripped them of all human reason and reduced them to the level of a trapped animal whose only concern was survival at any price. That was the unwritten law that the jobber lived by. That’s what the crowd ate up. The pain and suffering. It had to be slow, deliberate, merciless and inescapable. The pain has to gradually become so intense that your opponent abandons any vestige of pride, or remnant of self respect. You use pain as a tool to beak him, make him crawl in the dirt at your feet, and beg for mercy. Mercy that will never be shown. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
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Loserboy was enthralled. He had never heard wrestling described like that before, but his two favorite holds were the Boston Crab and the Camel Clutch. He now saw them in a different light. Loserboy was spellbound. He drank in every word like the crops drank in the rain after a drought. He thought back to the matches that he had seen himself, the ones that had really excited him. He was beginning to see the connection. There was, however, one thing he didn't understand: - "What did you mean when you said--allowed your man to submit? When he's had enough he throws in the towel and it's over, right?" |
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Lycravillain looked at Loserboy as though he was a halfwit. He then explained all the ways to toy with your opponent so he couldn't call out his submission, or tap out. - "Ya see buddy, ya trap him, then tighten the screws real slow like, and ya rack him little by little: Ya know the muscles and joints and stuff like that. As soon as yer man masters that pain level, push him to the next one, and the one beyond that. When he stops screaming, begging and thrashing around, and starts spazing and moaning, he's done: ya wrung him dry. If yer really good ya can squeeze out the submission just as yer man passes out from the pain. The crowds love it." Lycravillain continued to explain how he looked for any weak area or limb, and concentrated his attack there,relentless, non stop and merciless. - "You keep up the attack until you hear something special in his voice and see it in his eyes" Loserboy was at the edge of his seat when he asked: - "What do you mean something special?" Lycravillain favored Loserboy with one of his cold mirthless reptilian smiles as he replied: - "Fear, ya want to see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice and smell him sweat it out of every pore. Fear, and you want to make sure he knows that yer the cause. After that, it's all over but the shouting." |
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Lycravillain confide that these things were hard to explain. A man had to experience them for himself before he could ever understand them. Loserboy blurted out: - "Man, that sounds awesome! When do we start?" - "Before we start, I want ya to know that ya can wimp out and quit at any time if this gets to intense for ya. I’ll understand. Like I said, this is a rough sport. Maybe ya just can’t cut it” Lycravillain saw Loserboy clench his fists, as he muttered through clenched teeth "I'm not a quitter”. "Bingo! Looks like I just pressed one of his buttons." Lycravillain thought as he realized he hit a nerve. Useful information he stored for later use against unsuspecting Loserboy. |
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They stepped into the workout room, the floor was covered by wrestling mats and one wall had a large ceiling to floor mirror. - ”What’s with the mirror?” Loserboy queried. - ”You’ll see”, and an evil smile was his only reply. “OK”, he snarled, “let's do this.” They both circled, Loserboy clumsily, Lycravillain with the grace of a cat. He was definitely the more experienced and had every intention of teaching Loserboy. The finer points of being a jobber. The thought ran through his mind, ”No pain, no gain” and he chuckled to himself. ”Well time to help Loserboy make some gains, big time. Time to start the torture fest.” |
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After circling a few times, Lycravillain captured Loserboy swinging him in a graceful arc that would terminate in a picture perfect body slam. BAM! The floor boards resounded to the impact. The air was forced out of Loserboy with an audible “Whooshhhhh!” A yelp of pain followed as soon as Loserboy could suck in some air. When he hit, his right elbow missed the mat and struck the floor. He was in a world of hurt, and they just started. As he rolled back and forth on the mats cradling his right arm he kept muttering “My arm, my arm!” Through the haze of pain Loserboy barely heard Lycravillain instructing him. - ”Look for any weak point or injury in yer enemy. Exploit it, and don’t give him a chance to rest or regroup. It’s him or you.”
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That said he rolled Loserboy onto his stomach, straddled his back, and captured the injured arm in a hammerlock - “Nooooooo!!!” wailed Loserboy in pain. The lesson continued: - ”Once yer man is under control, take yer time. Give him time to think about all the horrible things yer going to do to him, then just in case he doesn’t have much imagination, tell him. Get inside his head, mess with his mind.” That said, he proceeded to demonstrate: - “Don’t ya just wonder how far up we can ratchet this twig you call an arm, before it snaps?” as he cranks Loserboy’s arm up a notch extracting another shriek of agony. - ”AAARGH, no more! No more, please! You’re breaking my arm! Pleaseeee!” Lycravillain continues to torment Loserboy mentally as he cranks up on the hammer lock. - ”Yer arm won’t really break. What ye’ll feel is tendons tear as muscle separates from bone, and maybe a crunching like sound as the ligaments holding the bones together rip apart. If I lift up on yer elbow nice and slow I should be able to dislocate your shoulder. Sorta like this.” Laughing sadistically, as he grasps the hammer locked arm by the elbow, and deliberately lifts it away from Loserboy’s body. Loserboy has been pushed to limits of pain endurance he never knew he had: - ”I can’t take it! Pleaseeee stop! No more! *GASP* I submit! I submitttttttt! Aaaaaaghhhhhh!” Loserboy screamed as he kicked weakly at the mat with his feet, and mindlessly clawed the fiber with his free hand. Lycravillain glanced up at the mirror and drank in the devastation he was inflicting on Loserboy trapped beneath him. This was so much better than working with the canvas grappling dummy in the gym. This was just so freaking sweet. - ”Remember, don’t let up, keep up the assault, target an injury, don’t give yer man a chance to rest or regroup. It’s him or you!” Lycravillain released the hammer lock, stood up, grabbed Loserboy by the ankles and dragged him to the center of the mats. Since Loserboy was still in shock from the brutal hammer lock, he offered only token resistance as he was flipped onto his back. Suddenly, his field of vision erupted into starbursts of light. Precision knee drops on the bicep of his right arm were overloading his pain circuitry. The first knee drop produced a scream as his body bucked up from the mat, the second and third only rated a strangled moan as his body was wracked by spasms. Through the fog of his semi consciousness, Loserboy could hear Lycravillain taunting him. - ”Hey dude, this yer bicep? Naugh, can’t be. Must be a zit. I know, lets see if we can pop it. Ha! Ha! Ha!” The targeted right arm was being systematically trashed. Loserboy was fading fast. Time for the finisher. Again targeting the right arm, Lycravillain gripped the wrist with both of his hands. He then applied a leg scissors to the upper arm, locking his legs across Loserboy’s chest. As Lycravillain, leaned back to the mat he positioned Loserboy’s elbow over his thigh. By pulling back on Loserboy’s wrist, he could hyperextend the elbow and introduce Loserboy to a whole new dimension of pain. Loserboy’s body bridged, bucked then contorted in endless spasms of pain as his tormented shrieks rose an octave each time Lycravillain applied ever more increasing pressure to the arm bar. Eventually, black spots began to engulf Loserboy’s field of vision as he began to black out. - ”Too soon for that escape buddy”, so Lycravillain backed off the hold ever so slightly. The pain was almost bearable. Then the taunting resumed: - “Whadda ya say, ya ready to give it up?” as he reapplied a bit more pressure to the arm bar causing Loserboy to groan in torment. As he mumbled, ”Yes I submit.” Lycravillain cranked the hold up one last notch and laughed as he asked: - “Are you sure?” Loserboy was barely conscious as he groaned his plea. - Yes! Yes!! I submit! No more, pleaseeeee”, and the blackness engulfed him. Oblivion gathered him into it’s merciful embrace. His nervous system had crashed because of the pain overload. He was out like a light. Lycravillain released the hold, placed one foot on Loserboy’s chest and struck a double bicep pose for the mirror. He drank in every detail of the image in the mirror before him. There he was the alpha male supreme, flexing over the battered, mangled remains of his defeated opponent crushed beneath his foot. As he preened for the mirror, he muttered to himself. - ”Oh man, this is soooooooo freaken sweeeeeeeeeeeet, it just doesn’t get any better than this!”
| The last part of his capture plan was ready for implementation. Lycravillain was going to trick Loserboy into thinking that he was forcing Lycravillain to take him on as a student and practice partner. In reality, the villain was tricking Loserboy into becoming an animated grappling dummy, a torture toy for the sadistic Lycravillain. He was going to throw the next couple of rounds. He was going to play the roll of jobber for the unsuspecting Loserboy. Lycravillain congratulated himself on his diabolical deceitfulness as he went to the fridge for a couple of cans of cold drinks. He placed his to one side, and silently snuck up on Loserboy who was just coming to. Loserboy was as far as getting up on all fours in his groggy attempt to get to his feet. The villain sprung upon him. The villain took up a rear mount position, encircled Loserboy’s body with both arms, and drove both his hands deep into groggy Loserboy’s crotch. One hand grasped the top of the speedos pulling them open. The other hand drove the frosty can of beverage deep inside the crotch where the tight fabric held it securely in place.
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Loserboy’s manhood was being subjected to instant frostbite.
”Yipes!” he wailed as he was shocked into total wakefulness and tried bucking Lycravillain’s weight off his back. It was an epic struggle. Loserboy desperately trying to escape and remove the cold can, and Lycravillain doing his best to control him so he couldn’t escape the torment.
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Having started from the rear mount position he has the advantage and quickly locks up Loserboy in a half nelson and uses his free hand to slap a makeshift arm bar on his free arm.
| - Total control. Hey Loserboy, nothing like a nice frosty drink to cool ya down eh? Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. Oh man you oughta see yerself, yer a real scream”.
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Which incidentally was exactly what Loserboy was doing: screaming bloody murder. Lycravillain was so over come with laughing at Loserboy’s torment that Loserboy was able to buck him off at last. He jumped to his feet fished the cold drink out of his speedos’,and breathed a long sigh of relief. Lycravillain was still laughing when he informed Loserboy: - ”That’s a move I came up with on my own. I call it an Arctic Wedgie! Ha Ha Ha Ha!” Loserboy pondered: - “This heartless #*%@?!& puts a mean, cruel spin on everything he does, even something as simple as offering you a cold drink. ------ Man! That is so awesome! I want to be just like that. I gotta make him coach me and work out with me”.
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