Hit me with your best shot (written by BBustingFanboy)

This story was written by our reader BBustingFanboy.  It's another fantastic piece of fan fiction, a sequel to Low-blowing audition starring everybody's favorite wrestler Logan. I hope you like this story as much as I do! As always, your feedback is highly appreciated! :-))

Warning: Can contain traces of cum.

Featured in this story: Logan (click for pictures)

I see Logan chatting with the other wrestler and I can't suppress a grin. It's been a month since my Bartlet High wrestling team captain helped me nail a spot at this wrestling fed where they shoot really suggestive fights - and when I say helped, I mean get his nuts cracked for an entire audition match and then again for its taping - and he's finally followed me here.

The owner had really liked what Logan had to offer. Specifically, how he, and I quote here, "sold his pain". I think his insanely ripped bod and Hollywood blond good looks definitely helped. But Logan wasn't interested in jobbing permanently. The money was definitely good, and he did get paid for the one match he reluctantly did, but I don't think the idea of doing scripted matches continuously appealed to him much.

But the owner's a persuasive guy and he ran a pretty hard bargain. In the end, he and Logan struck a compromise. My buddy would get to do two matches at a time. The first would be unscripted, winner take all. The second would be scripted and Logan's role would depend on whether he wins or loses the first one.



And so, here we are. I've just finished shooting my latest escapades - I've settled in really well here, having already been a fan of the company's work - and I got told I could wait around to see what happens. Besides, Logan had offered to drive me home, so I'd need to wait for my ride anyway.

As the cameras get set up, I take a seat near the action. From where I'm at, I can hear my fellow stars. Okay, so maybe I'm not a star yet. But Logan's definitely gonna sell loads of matches. He has that charisma. And the other guy. Yeah, he's one of the fed's biggest assets. I'm a little surprised Logan agreed to fight him of all people. In fact, I'm hoping he did the smart thing and looked up the other guy's past work on their website.

For the moment, though, he's just being friendly.

"So Max, how long have you been doing this?" I hear Logan ask.

"Coupla years now. Pays good. Though, from what I understand, you're not completely sold on us yet."

Logan looks at him sheepishly. "The crew here have been really nice. And my friend over there-" points at me "-loves it here. I'm just not sure about preplanned matches."

"I get that." Max flashes a winning smile. "And this one's a free-for-all, so you can show off your chops."

Logan grins back. The two have clearly bonded in the past hour or so while they waited for my match to end. Which is nice enough I suppose. Just as long as Logan doesn't underestimate Max. For the record, he is a genuinely cool guy, but his persona in the ring isn't as fun to know.

With the cameras finally in place, the two opponents take their places on opposite ends outside the ring. A sign from the director and silence falls. We're officially rolling.

Max looks into the camera right next to him and smirks. "I'm Mad Max. You know I've not lost a match yet. This punk-" points to Logan "-was a blubbering mess by the end of his only one. And he thinks he can beat me. Hah!" With that, the 23-year-old stud walks into the ring and flexes. He's wearing tight white compression shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. He's a blondy, like Logan, and an inch shorter, but he's much, much bigger and his muscle show has me worried already.

If Logan's phased by Max's sudden change in persona and his showing off, he doesn't show it. Instead, the 18-year-old looks into the camera next to him and smiles back. "I'm Logan Kruger. And I'm here to prove that old matches mean squat when you've got the skill and the will to win." Logan's fighting in a green singlet. Like Max's shorts, they cling to his body like a second skin. It's actually hotter seeing his tight abs through a layer of fabric than outright. His package is pretty nice too!

Max gestures for Logan to join him in the ring. The high schooler nods and enters through the ropes - to be met by a kick to the nuts that is so hard he's actually lifted off his feet! Logan's mouth forms a surprised O in mid-air and his body begins to fold, but before he can fall to his knees, Max wraps his arms around him and executes a solid belly-to-belly suplex.

Oh crap. His back's gotta be hurting too, but Logan covers his crotch instead and whimpers. Max just smirks down at him. "Come on boy, up you get." He waits for Logan to get back on his feet before locking on a side headlock. It's impossible to see Logan's face, but I get the feeling he's gritting his teeth.

Logan fires a few punches into Max's side. I think he tries to aim for a more vulnerable area, but with his face being crushed into his opponent's torso, it's not easy to see where he's hitting. Max responds by giving his victim's head a tight squeeze.

Logan goes limp for a second and is allowed to drop to his knees, his legs landing wide open. Unfortunately, that frames his balls as a nice target, and Max goes ahead with another kick. This time, as Logan falls on to his back with a yelp, the older fighter follows through by falling on top of him, his knee crashing into Logan's crotch.

Logan is left screaming at the top of his lungs as Max's knee turns into a jackhammer, determined to turn his precious rocks into crushed pebbles. By the end of his shots, and I lose count of how many, I find myself covering my own junk out of sympathy. I think a few crew members do the same.

Max gets up and does some showboating as Logan is left squirming on the floor. He takes his sweet time, flexing and swivelling his hips. He doesn't even bother looking at Logan. "Pathetic boy. Pathetic. You really thought you could take thi- OOF!"

Logan had managed to get up behind Max and, ignored by his arrogant opponent, he shoots his arm out between his legs. Unfortunately, that doesn't have quite the desired effect. Max is winded, for sure, but he's not out.

"Still have some fight in you? Good." He leers at Logan, who is still on one knee, and grabs him by his hair. He lifts him up and swings him into the corner, back-first. Logan hits the turnbuckle hard and sags on to the floor, his legs splayed open.

Max takes a running jump at him and crushes him against the corner. With Logan dazed, Max takes the opportunity to tie up his hands in the middle and bottom ropes. He then stands up and begins to stomp down on Logan's chest, ripped abs and crotch. He makes sure to alternate his hits, but most of them land on Logan's balls. With his arms immobilized, all the rookie can do is moan at this point.

Max turns as if to walk away but suddenly grabs the top ropes with both his hands and uses them to jump high up. The slingshot effect brings both his feet crashing down on to Logan's nuts, the impact hard enough to actually let Logan's arms pop free from their restraints.

It's a good thing too, as he's left wailing on the floor in agony, desperately trying to cover his crotch. When Max pries his hands away, I notice Logan's face. I can't tell if it's really good acting or genuine fear, but having been worked over continuously from the start and only getting one shot in in return, I can understand if it is the latter.

Max looks at Logan's package and breaks into an evil grin. "Would you look at that? Someone's getting excited." Sure enough, Logan is definitely tenting and there is a distinct patch of pre-cum showing through. (I'm not entirely sure, but the fabric around his crotch seems tighter all round, as if his balls are swollen up. Again, wouldn't be surprised.)

Max coaxes Logan to his feet and offers him a free gut punch. "But remember boy. Only a gut punch. No funny business." Logan complies, putting what little strength he has left into a punch to his opponent's washboard stomach. "Aw. That was weak. Try again." Punch after punch falls harmlessly on Max's stomach.

I notice Logan look hesitantly at Max's pouch. Unfortunately, so does Max, so when the next punch sails south, he blocks it and promptly smashes his foot into Logan's nether regions instead. Logan lets out a cough and falls to his knees. Max tuts at him before hauling him up. And then firing another foot into his balls.

This treatment continues for a while, Logan being used like a yo-yo, being pulled up before being knocked by down by a shot to his balls. Sometimes a punch, sometimes a knee, sometimes a kick. But always the same two targets. By the end of it, his eyes are already slightly glazed over and his mouth is gaping open. I think he's drooling a little.

This time, Max doesn't hit his balls. Instead, he grabs them in a powerful claw, the veins in his arms beginning to stick out, and he actually lifts my captain off his feet! Logan's in a daze, but he still whimpers as he is carried across the ring by just that one grip, his bodyweight doing the work of crushing his balls between his pelvis and Max's iron grip.

His cock is throbbing at this point, but before anything can happen, Max drops him in a heap. I can tell he's setting up a big finish. Sure enough, he picks Logan up again, almost gently this time, before looking at the camera and saying, "Time to finish the pretty boy off."

With that ominous announcement, he wraps Logan in the corner in a tree of woe, his head on the floor, his legs draped over the top ropes. He slaps Logan's balls a few times to see if there is any response. When Logan stirs a little, Max nods and locks on his ball claw again. This time though, he uses both hands to mush Logan's balls into mash.

Logan lets out a guttural groan just as his cock erupts. The orgasm is so violent, it actually seeps through his singlet and down the front of his body. Max makes sure to force every last drop out and by the end, Logan looks like a lot of people have dumped their loads on him. It might have been impressive under different circumstances.

Max kneels down beside Logan's face - his eyes still hazy from the pain - and ruffles his hair, almost playfully. It ends up leaving his blond fuzz messy and a little cum stained. "Yep. It's over boy. I want to say you put up a good fight but my ma taught me not to lie."

Max unhooks Logan's legs from the ropes but instead of letting him fall to the ground, he picks him up in an upside-down bearhug and carries him to the middle of the ring. Oh. Right. The knockout. Max locks his thighs around Logan's head and, positioning his chin just above Logan's now-airborne crotch, he delivers a powerful piledriver.

The impact on his poor noggin, and his opponent's face crushing into his drained balls, is enough to make Logan slip into unconsciousness. Max flexes over the crumpled heap of muscle at his feet for a few extra shots. He then rips off Logan's singlet - thankfully, not actually Logan's, but the fed's - calls it his "little souvenir" and walks out of the ring.

"CUT!" The director calls it a perfect match, and Max is suddenly all smiles again. He decides not to bother Logan any more, but he does come up to me.

"Your friend did a good job. Needs to do a bit more talking next time, but he's a damn good performer. He might not believe that, but trust me, that shit is going to sell. Besides, most of us start off losing." His emphasis on the word most implies the exception and I am left shaking my head in amusement.

Max and the crew begin packing up. I go to the locker room to grab Logan's clothes and he's still out cold when I get back. Chuckling, I go to wake him up, also wondering if I should offer to drive while he nurses his balls on the ride back. Poor Logan. I'm not sure what he's going to hate more. Losing this fight fair and square, or knowing he'll have to lose the next one too. Still, Max is right. That was hot as hell.