Monday, May 1, 2017

My life as a nutcracker - part 11: The ambush (written by David Walker)

This is the eleventh part of a wonderful, epic story written by our reader David Walker. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Previous parts:
Cast of characters
Part 1: I learn how to fight
Part 2: My official introduction to ball busting
Part 3: Vince? OMG!
Part 4: The games people play
Part 5: Practicing the moves, sort of

Part 6: Wear my work boots?
Part 7: My first time at the club
Part 8: My first time in the ring
Part 9: I improve steadily

Part 10: Balls, dicks, and CJ

“Well, if it isn’t the pretty little fag boy.”


“Ain’t she sweet?”

Scott.  Oh fuckin’ joy.

“We thought you’d like to know some of our moves before the fight.  We’ll show you some of our best,” Corey said.

“They’re fuckin’ killer,” Scott chimed in.

I really should have known.  Vince and me had never been offered time to work in the ring before.  It wasn’t Charlie’s voice on the phone, so that kinda made me wonder.  The voice also said they’d been in touch with Vince and he was anxious to do it.  4 o’clock Wednesday.  Well, sure.  Vince wanted to try it out, so why shouldn’t I?  I texted him earlier and he didn’t reply.  It’s not like we didn’t know the ring from experience, though.  It just didn’t sound right.

And, of course, Vince was nowhere to be seen.  I hoped they hadn’t ambushed him before they got me.

“Yeah,” Corey said.  “Your fag friend couldn’t make it today.  We shoulda told you, I guess, but we didn’t.  Besides, that would’ve ruined the surprise.”

“Surprise!” Scott shouted out like it was some fuckin’ birthday party or something.

They were in the ring already, in gym shorts, sneaks, no shirts.  It didn’t look like they’d been hit or punched, so I figured Vince wasn’t around, which was OK…they didn’t ambush him first.

Both of them were in the ring, side by side, and I knew I’d be attacked the second I got on the apron of the ring.

“Let me take my shirt off,” I asked.

“Oooh.  Go right ahead,” Scott encouraged.  “I wanna see that little ol’ fag chest before it gets the shit pounded out of it.”

“Yeah,” Corey added.  “I wanna see what all the young queers are swooning over.”

I took my shirt off and threw it on a chair.  I kept thinking, “You can do this, just don’t get mad.  If nothin’ else, you make them sore, too.  Chill.  It’s OK.  Concentrate.”  It was a blend of all my friends.  Even CJ.  I wondered which of the two stud wannabes he’d fuck first.  That made me smile.

“Oh, the fun hasn’t started yet,” Corey assured me.  “My.  I bet all the boys want dates with you now.”  I hate trash talk, but oddly enough Corey didn’t have it down.

“Jealous?” I said as I straddled the middle rope and ducked under the top.  And I was right; they were…how did that go?...“they were all over me like a cheap suit.”

I could feel both of them landing elbow punches on my back and sometimes a fist to my gut.

“Well, this shit has to stop,” I muttered.  I hooked an arm around somebody’s knee and pulled it toward me.  Scott hit the mat with a really nice thud.  For a brief second, Corey stopped, I guess to see what happened to Scott.  It was just enough time for me to slug Corey in his gut and then push him.  He landed on top of Scott and involuntarily gave Scott an elbow to his chin.  I noticed this as I stood up.  I didn’t hurt much, but I knew that move wasn’t going to be the end of it.

“You fuckin’ cocksucker,” Corey blurted as he pushed forward to stand up.  I kicked him in the chest, which sent him sprawling on Scott again.

I’d forgotten I was wearing my work boots.  I didn’t have time to go home to change into my sneaks.  I saw part of the boot print on Corey’s chest.  It was still two against one, but I did have a little back-up.

Scott stood up.  “Smart motherfucker, huh?”  He grabbed at an arm, kneed me in the stomach, spun me around and threw me into a corner.  That was one of his favorites.  He got over to me, threw a punch into my stomach.  By that time Corey arrived.  They both grabbed an arm, pulled me forward and then pushed me hard against the turnbuckles.

“Hey!  That one worked,” Corey noted.  “Now get out there.” Corey grabbed a rope, jumped, and landed a shin across my abs while Scott retreated to about mid-ring and got into his tackle position.  He ran toward me.  Corey was standing kinda smug at the rope, waiting for his partner to ram my gut.  I got about a step away from the corner, grabbed Corey’s shoulder, and whipped him into the corner.  It wasn’t a “whip” so much as a “turned,” but the end result was the same:  Scott landed square into Corey’s guts.

“Fuck!” they yelled in unison.

I knew I should work on one of them, but I couldn’t figure which.  I decided on Scott.  I got behind him and landed a couple of fists between his shoulder blades and then farther down his back.  I threw a chop to the back of his neck.  He stopped moving for a moment.  Corey, still kind of bent over, tossed Scott out of the way and charged me.  As he did, I turned around and grabbed his head into a headlock.  His speed pushed me a head a little, but not much.  I jumped up and intended for him to land face first on the mat.  Instead, I’d got out of position a little and when I fell, his face smashed into my leg.  He was stunned.  I pushed him off my leg, stood up, grabbed his knees, which bent pretty easily, and pulled back.  It raised him fairly far off the mat.  I pulled up and threw him to the mat…flat on his back.

I’d lost track of Scott, though.  I felt two feet on my back and I went sprawling.  Scott followed me, turned me on my back, grabbed a leg, pulled, and fell back.  “Christ!” I yelled.  It felt like every muscle in my leg popped.

Scott got up, grabbed the leg again, and drove a fist into my thigh.  He didn’t let go and landed a couple more punches before I saw Corey standing beside me, fist clenched, and down he came.

“You like that, little boy?”  Oh, good god.  Scott stopped punching my leg but didn’t let go.  Corey got on his knees and unleashed a couple of hard punches.  Scott swooped down and grabbed my other leg.  I was officially spladled.

“Fuckin’ nut cracker, huh?” he sneered.  I had the feeling nuts were about to become fair game.

Scott landed his shin on my nuts.  Corey’s punches to my gut hurt more than that.  Scott always scored with that, so when I wasn’t squirming in pain, he was a little confused.

“I’m kinda like Vince that way,” I told Scott and kicked a foot free.  I decided on Scott first because it was only starting to dawn on him what was about to take place.  Work boot, meet nuts.  He clutched his nads and kinda staggered away and then dropped.  Good.  Again Corey’s attention shifted to Scott.

“The fuck?” Corey shouted to Scott.  “Get your ass over here!”

I rolled on my side just enough to grab Corey’s balls and squeeze and not let go.  “Feel familiar, fuck face?”  I asked.  And all of a sudden, I thought I might actually be able to do this, or at least die trying.  My leg hurt like fuck, but I bent my knee, hand firmly around Corey’s balls, and tried to stand.  I figured I had at least another good punch to my nuts before I’d start to feel it.  I stood, Corey desperately tearing at my fingers, trying to release my grip.

“Say ‘please,’ hot stuff.”  I felt his dick through the gym shorts.  If he’s still soft, which could be the case, I wondered what it wanted to be when it grew up.  If that was his hard-on, both CJ and Charlie had him pegged from the start.  He kept struggling as I made him stand.  I let go and hit him with a chop across his chest.  He was staggered, so I did it again.  He started to fall.  I decided “three’s the charm,” reached for his neck with one hand and whomped his chest as hard as I could.  It gave a satisfying moan as he fell.  It was a sound I wanted to hear him make for…like…ever.

I was having too much fun.  I knew Jackson would say that the second he saw me.  He’d be happy with what I was doing, but he’d know I wasn’t concentrating and I should be.  Really, because that’s when I felt Scott’s arms hook mine and lift me onto his back for a body stretch.  Fuck.  How in hell do you get outta this?  And how quick?  Those blows to my gut were hurtin’ like a bitch.  He rocked back and forth and that made it hurt all the more.  Then he threw me to the mat.  The pain was getting to me, but at least I was free.  He flipped me on my back, threw my arms off my body, jumped, and landed his knee right in the gut, where everything was already sore.  He grabbed the leg he’d worked on earlier, kicked it away from my body, and fell on it with his knee.  And again.  And again.  I was howling with each drop.

By that time a clearly winded Corey lumbered toward us.  “All-fuckin’-right,” he wheezed, liking what Scott was doing, enjoying my howls.  I was pretty much writhing in pain from the assault on my leg.  I could see Corey nod at Scott and the leg torture stopped.  Now what?  Scott grabbed my feet, Corey took my wrists, they lifted me, swung me, and threw me out of the ring.

A winded Corey lisped, “You can go home now, princess.  I think you got a good preview.”  They laughed.  Not quite, babies.  I wasn’t dead yet.  Not by a long shot.

I got up off the floor and yes I could feel everywhere I was hit or punched or smacked, I knew it was there, just like I knew they’d be all over me the second I got on the apron.  Scott grabbed my hair like he was gonna pull me over the top rope and into the ring.  He got as far as tugging and I gave him a lightning round of fists, knuckles first, into his balls.  He doubled over and I held his head and gave him a punch to his jaw.  I grabbed his gym shorts and pulled him toward me.  He fell against the ropes, hands at his sides, and sank to his knees.  I pounded his head a couple times, the last one really landing hard.  I kicked him back and he fell to the mat.  Scott was definitely out for a while.  One down.

I looked around for Corey.  He was outside the ring and pulled my legs.  I fell nuts first on the apron.  Corey didn’t do an immediate follow up, I guess so he could watch my agony.  It really didn’t do much to me at all.  This guy obviously never fought Jackson.  I pushed myself away from the apron and didn’t show a bit of pain.  I could tell Corey’s plan was in need of revision.  He turned to run and I grabbed his gym shorts, pulled him back, grabbed his head, and smashed it on the edge of the apron.  He yelled.  I took that as approval, lifted his head again, but this time kept my hands on it so I could drive it onto the apron even harder.  He fell to the floor.

“Get up, Mister Fuckin’ All-American Straight Guy,” I yelled at him.  “Get up!”  I kicked him.  “Come on!  Get up, you lousy sonuvabitch!”  My work boot found his belly to its liking.  I lifted him up to the apron and stood in front of him, got myself up, and stood in front of him.  I checked Scott…he was still on the mat and not moving.  I grabbed an arm, flipped him on his back, grabbed the back of his neck and his balls, lifted him, and flung him down on the top rope.  His shriek was perfection.  I’d seen a couple videos like this, so I stayed outside the ring and pulled up and down on the top rope, his weight pressing his balls against the rope.  I ducked in between the top and middle ropes.  I was surprised he hadn’t fallen off, but he hadn’t, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him off the rope.

“Bouncy, bouncy,” I said, although I suspected he wasn’t hearing real good.

His head was against my chest.  I gave him a big, loud kiss.  “That’s why you got me here today, wasn’t it, you fuckin’ closet case.”  The kiss awakened the frog and he struggled to get free.  I just let him drop.  He got on his knees.  He took a couple steps back and then ran toward him, jumping just in time so the work boots slammed him square in the chest.  He fell back.  I grabbed him by his hair and dragged him across the mat.  He managed to get both hands on my arm, to kind of ease some of the pain of being dragged.  We got to Scott.  I let go of Corey, kicked him in the stomach, and walked over to Scott.  He was totally out of it.  He gave no resistance when I got his hands away from his nuts, jumped up, and landed both boots on his balls.  Corey saw it and started to stand.

He very unsteadily stood on his feet.  “Fuck you, you fuckin’ trailer trash,” I yelled.  I tried to do one of those kickboxing kicks, but my boot wouldn’t spin.  He looked too inviting not to do something, though, so I stood in front of him and jammed my fists into his gut.  I ended that series with a good upper cut that landed on his chin.  He fell back on the ropes.

Vince told me I’d love to work the corners.  Let’s find out.  I put my hand behind the waistband of his gym shorts, pulled him away from the ropes, and landed a knuckle powered slug in the gut.  He fell back against the ropes, I grabbed the waistband again, pulled him forward, and slugged the fuck out of him.  I noticed my knuckles were starting to hurt.  He kinda leaned forward, so I grabbed a dangling arm.  I spun him around twice and let go as he flung himself into the corner.  His back met the turnbuckles with a thud.  I looked at Scott to make sure he wasn’t moving.  He wasn’t.  I walked toward Corey.

“Faggot, huh?”  And I threw a punch, knuckles first, into his guts.  He started leaning forward so I gave him an upper cut.  He fell back on the turnbuckles.  I grabbed his arms and tossed them over the top rope.  I pulled down his shorts.  His dick was hard, if unimpressive, especially for all his studly posing.  I fell to my knees and started to suck him off.  Not with any feeling, just a back and forth in my mouth.  I could hear him groan somewhere between pleasure and pain.

“First one’s free,” I said, looking up at him.  He looked down at me, kinda confused.  I jammed a fist in his nuts and started sucking again.  His brain was not processing this.  I looked up at him and said, “It’s what you always wanted from me but didn’t know how to ask.”  I punched his nuts again and resumed sucking.  And then the game video flashed to mind.  I stopped sucking, punched his balls, and stood.

“You’re gonna thank me for this in the morning,” I said as I grabbed one leg and placed it over the middle rope.  “Not just anybody can do this to a tough guy like you.”  I got his other leg over the middle rope.  I checked to make sure his arms were over the top rope.  I looked at Scott one more time.  Nothing.  Corey now had my full attention.

“Schooldays, schooldays,” I sang, grabbed his face and crushed a fist into his skull.  “Dear old golden rule days,” I sang as I backed up a bit.  Fist or boot?  Fist.  I always liked that feeling of one fist meeting a ball sac.  “Know what I learned in school, Corey baby sweetie?  I learned there were some people in this world that weren’t worth my fuckin’ spit.  And I learned how to deal with them.  Remember?”

He could tell someone was talkin’ at him, and he lifted his head and kinda looked around.  His eyes met mine.

“Hi,” I said.  “Remember me?”

And with that, I ran toward him, raised my fist from my side, and it landed perfectly.  His eyes went huge.  His mouth opened but nothing came out.  I didn’t think I needed to do anything more.  I did grab him by the hair and snapped his head against the turnbuckle so we could see each other.

“Thanks for the preview.”  I let his head drop.  I pulled it up again.  “And from now on, I’m Mister Faggot to you.”  I let go his head, turned around, noticed Scott was breathing, and started walking.

“See you guys Tuesday.”

As I grabbed my shirt and put it on, I heard the main doors open loudly.  Footsteps.  Seth and Vince ran into the club.

Seth grabbed my shoulders and stared at me, trying to see if I was hurt.   “You OK, little bro?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Vince said slowly, looking at the ring.

“They wanted to show me a preview of what we could expect Tuesday night,” I explained.  Seth was still looking at me.  “I’m OK, Seth.  I don’t know what got you here, but I’m OK and really glad to see you.”

By this time Seth saw the ring.  “The fuck?”

We sat.  I was a little winded.  I told them about how I got lured here and ambushed.  I didn’t really want to talk about the fight.  Besides, it was pretty apparent who walked out of the ring.

“I got your text,” Vince said, “but we’re not supposed to check our phones while we’re on duty.  So, I’m sorry, I forgot about it and then checked after I got home.  You said you’d see me later at the club.  That was news to me, so I called Seth and asked him about it.”

“I told Vince I hadn’t seen you all day.  And the thing about seeing Vince here…there was something wrong about that.  Jackson said you weren’t with him.  CJ was still at work.  So we decided there was a problem and we better check.  And you weren’t answering your phone.”

“This whole thing surprised the fuck out of me,” I confessed.  “After being tossed around and hit a lot, I just decided I’d had it.  I didn’t know if I could take them both, but I felt I could try.”  Seth still looked awfully concerned.  I gave him a kiss.  I looked at Vince, put my arm around him and kissed him, too.   “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“We weren’t here, remember” Seth said, kind of bemused.

“Oh, you were here, all right.  Jackson, too.  No way I coulda done this without you guys.”

Vince said, “Thanks.”  We started to leave.  I turned toward the ring.

“Hey, thanks again, guys. ’Night!”

Arm in arm in arm, we walked…a little slower than usual, but we walked together.

“Don’t you ever answer your fuckin’ phone?” asked Jackson.  “Ah, Jesus Christ.  What the fuck happened?”

“I think I passed your class,” I said to him.  He held out his arms and I pretty much collapsed on his chest.

“Corey still in there?” he asked.

“Corey and Scott,” Vince said.

“Those fuckin’ assholes,” Jackson said, shaking his head.

 “You think we should call the cops?” Seth asked.

“No,” Vince and I said together.

“I don’t think they’d appreciate Mayberry knowing that a fag whooped both their asses,” I said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Seth agreed.

“Over to my place, everybody.  We should try to patch this boy up.”  We started walking again.  “Did you drive?” Jackson asked me.


“Vince.  You came with Seth?  Why don’t you drive his car over to the barn?”  Jackson taking charge.  How cool is that?  “’cause you and me are gonna have a little chat.”

Oh, shit.

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