Rowdy Armstrong inspired me to write a wrestling story, so here's what I came up with:
It's been four weeks since Wes "The Country Boy" Camry won the KWF Intercontinental title, and in that time it's felt like everyone wants a piece of him. Everyone wanted to show they could take down the good ol' boy himself.
Tonight was no different a he found himself booked against Former Intercontinental champion Karl Weber. Wes had faced Karl before becoming champion and had barely come out on top, barely avoiding some of Karl's more... unorthodox tactics in the ring as well.
Tonight Karl was going to have another shot to get the title back and another chance to see if he could make Wes succumb in front of the crowd in ways he never had to another opponent.
The announcer stood in the center of the ring, wearing his black tuxedo, holding his microphone.
"The following is a on fall wrestling match, for the Kentucky Wrestling Federation Intercontinental Championship! Entering first, from Berlin, Germany, standing 6 feet tall, weighing 200 lbs, the European Ideal, KARL WEBER!"
"Warped Mind" by Dominic Glynn begins to blare over the speakers as the crowd boos, from the back steps Karl Weber. Wearing only a red, tight, lycra speedo, showing ever inch of his buldge. His size 11 feet bare, he smirks. He's oiled up but pale, his blonde hair styled in spikes on top of his head. Covering his hot, muscled arms and back is a black leather jacket, his pecs and six pack visible to the crowd as he dances towards the ring, being sure to gyrate his hips and crotch for the crowd.
Karl's look was a bit like Ivan Drago if Ivan hadn't been pumped full of steroids. Sculpted but not a monster, tall but not a giant. He slides between the ropes and into the ring, climbing the ropes and dragging his hands along his own body to show off for the crowd, before throwing his head back and dropping the jacket from his shoulder, holding it up by his biceps for a moment as he continues to dance on the middle ropes as the crowd boos. As he dances, breathing heavily, his head thrown back, his buldge grows a bit in his speedo.
"Getting it ready for your champion" he hisses out in his thick, German accent, before sliding his right index finger slowly up the shaft barely concealed by his speedo.
The crowd's boos began to die down with Karl's music as the announcer spoke once more.
"And introducing his opponent, standing 5'8" and weighing in at 140 lbs, he's the current KWF Intercontinental Champion, accompanied by Miss Maribelle, please welcome Wes 'The Country Boy' Camry!"
Stepping out from the back, wearing tight blue jeans with the IC title around his waist, his eyes covered by black sunglasses, his body tan and oiled. His hair black and wet as he bounces on the balls of his feet, pumped to wrestle in front of the crowd. At his side is Miss Maribelle, his valet and girlfriend. Clad in a long yellow dress that stops just below her bare feet, a silver crow sits atop her blonde hair. She's a few inches shorter than him at 5'6" and looks a bit like a local beauty contestant.
They make their way to the ring, climbing to the apron. Maribelle sits on the rope allowing Wes to slide through then climbs through after him. Unbuckling his championship belt she holds it up, showing it to the cheering crowd. The next step, normally, in their entrance would be for her to seductively remove his jeans revealing his red and blue speedo for the cheering crowd, but as she hands the belt off to the time keeper, and before the ref can signal the bell to start the match suddenly Karl Weber launches himself from the corner. The larger German wrestler slams his forearm into Wes's back, sending him down to all fours as the crowd boos.
The ref frantically signals the bell to start the match as Maribelle, nervous, exits the ring quickly to safety. The crowd booing the German as Wes pushes up from all fours to his knees. As he does, the German sends a hard kick to the small of Wes's back, the hit echoes through the arena as the crowd boos, the bell ringing to officially start the match with the champ in trouble already!
Country Boy's back is arched in pain as he screams out from the kick, his arms out wide as his shoulders go back. Karl grins to the crowd as they boo him, putting both arms under Country's armpits and lifting up, getting the smaller champ to his feet. He ducks his head under Wes's right arm and gives his ribs a kiss as he keeps his other hand on his opponent's ribs. His right hand going between Wes's legs, giving a squeeze as he lifts. Wes groans out, thankful for the barrier of denim that gives a little protection as his opponent lifts up.
Maribelle screams from outside the ring at Karl, calling him a cheater and a crook, slapping the ring apron along with the booing crowd. With that the big German drops back, landing both wrestlers on their back in a side suplex. Wes groans on the canvas, holding his neck and back in pain as Karl rolls to all fours and puts his chest on Wes's abs and chest, going for a pin, but the Country Boy has grabbed the bottom rope. The Ref pointing out that no pin can take place. The crowd cheering Country as he breaks the pin.
Karl pushes to his feet and places his foot on Wes's chest gyrating his hips, dancing over the champ as the crowd boos. Maribelle screaming at the ref to do something, but the ref doesn't have to interfere as the Country Boy grabs his opponent's foot and twists hard, sending Karl down to his butt on the canvas. Country then keeps rolling, still holding the ankle as he gets on his German opponent's back and begins to stretch the former champion out by continuing to pull his leg by the ankle.
Maribelle cheers, clapping with the crowd as they cheer on her man. Wes arches his back as he stretches Karl on the canvas, bending him by his leg as his free hand reaches out grasping the big German's chin, trying to pull them towards each other as Karl grits his teeth and claws at the canvas, his free foot kicking the canvas.
Wes grits his teeth trying to keep the hold on, but it's early and Karl has some size on the champ. Planting his hands on the canvas he starts pushing with his leg, the oil on their bodies causing Wes to slowly lose his grip. Knowing when to cut his losses, Wes rolls to the right, getting some distance as he releases the hold.
Wes uses his speed to get up quicker than his opponent. With Karl still on all fours, Country crouches, waiting, and as his opponent gets to all four the southern rassler takes off running, jumping and wrapping his head around Karl's head trying to slam him face down to the canvas to the cheers of the crowd.
The big German holds his face in pain, rolling to his back, kicking his feet as Wes stands back up. Maribelle is blowing a kiss to Wes as he runs to the ropes. Catching the kiss before grabbing the top rope with both hands, his feet bouncing off the bottom rope, launching him into the air as he spins his body aiming his abs for his opponent's abs and chest and....
The wind rushes out of the champ's body as Karl lifts his knees up, covering his own abs and catching Wes in his, Maribelle screaming from out side, covering her mouth in fear as the crowd boos. Wes falls to his back holding his abs in pain.
Karl rolls up to his knees, smirking to the crowd as he reaches down, and unsnaps the button to Wes's jeans. The crowd mostly booing, while a few cheer, wanting to see Wes in his usual speedos as Maribelle slaps the apron in frustration.
Karl pushes to his feet as he pulls the jeans from the country boy, leaving him in his red and blue speedos as he spills to the canvas on his belly, holding his abs. Karl holds the jeans up above his head like a trophy, before giving them a sniff and throwing them out of the ring.
Wes groans, pushing up to all fours, making his way towards the ropes as Maribelle claps and chants for him, but Karl is already on his feet. He steps forward and steps over Wes's back, straddling him, he reaches down, quickly, between Wes's legs and presses his fingers hard to the top of Wes's shaft before raking down hard, Some in the crowd, including Maribelle booing this tactic as Wes falls hard to the canvas, rolling to his back holding between his legs, screaming from the crotch rake.
Some in the crowd can't help but cheer as the lean muscleboy holds his crotch on the canvas as the big German looms over their hero. They hate his attitude, but have to admit he's attractive. Karl steps up to Wes as he lays on the canvas. Reaching down he grabs the country boy's ankles and lifts, looking like he's setting up a lowblow. He smirks as his thumbs massage the arch of the downed southerner. His bare foot lifts up and pushes Wes's hand from his crotch. The dazed wrestler groaning as his hands flop to the canvas.
Karl lifts his foot again and looks like he's going to drive it down into Wes's buldge but instead presses it down, rubbing and pumping, trying to get into the straight wrestler's head. Wes groans, rocking his head side to side. Karl laughs at his opponent. "Yes! I'll be the one to make you give in! You know you can't resist, admit who you are" the crowd is a mix of boos and cheers.
Karl's toes grip The Country Boy's waistband sliding the thin material down the southerner's shaft. The Country Boy struggles squirming beneath the sole. "SNAP OUT OF IT, WES!" shouts Maribelle! Wes's eyes open, he sucks in air, arching his back, before he reaches out for Karl's ankle, yanking hard as he twists, sending the big German hard to his back.
The big man lands hard, but he's still able to move faster. As Wes starts to sit up, the big German launches his sole towards Wes's face, sending the Country boy back to the canvas. Weber pushes to his feet.
Karl Weber reaches down, grabbing Wes by the hair, Maribelle screaming, slapping the apron trying to pump him back up. Wes's speedos are a bit low on him, showing the top of his crack and the top of his shaft as Karl grabs Country's head and tucks it between the big German's legs.
Karl trails his finger along Wes's back before trying to wrap his arms around the Country Boy's waist and lift him up. Trying to get Wes up on his shoulders for a power bomb position when suddenly the smaller, southern wrestler grabs the German's head with his left hand and begins throwing lefts down against Karl's forehead to daze him. Maribelle cheering him on at ringside as the German begins to stumble, falling back first against the corner buckle.
For his part, Wes stays on his opponent's shoulders in the corner, landing right handed fists against Karl's head to daze him, before wrapping his legs around Weber's head tight and throwing himself backwards, using the momentum to launch Karl from the corner and onto his back with a Frankensteiner as Wes rolls up to his knees nodding and smiling to the crowd as he adjusts his speedos and pushes up to his feet.
Wes goes into a crouch, tapping his bare foot on the ground his right hand resting on his right thigh, his left foot stretched out a little further as he watches his opponent. As Karl gets up to his feet Wes suddenly side steps launching himself forward as he lifts his left leg bringing it in and out and slapping his sole hard against the big German's chin for the Sweet Country Music!
Sweat and spit fly from Karl's face as he falls to his back, spread eagle on the canvas as the crowd goes wild. Wes runs forward and drops his knees to Karl's shoulders going for a school boy pin as the ref counts....
The crowd screaming with approval as the ref signals for the bell ending the match. Wes smiling, sore and having had a work out but victorious. He pushes to his bare feet and places his right foot dominantly on the face of the downed German before flexing to the crowd as they cheer him on, Maribelle entering the ring and holding his hand up victoriously, before kneeling in front of him and placing the belt around Wes's waist, giving the belt a seductive kiss to tease the crowd.