While cleaning the ring, Drake Marcos learns that no amount of scrubbing will cleanse the fact that both he and his boyfriend, Rocko Mortis, got their asses handed to them in the same day by the same man on these very mats. That man is Beau Jordan, who struts in in a disrespectfully sexy, low-riding singlet. Content to rub salt into the ever-fresh wound of loss that seems to perpetually follow Drake around, he mocks him for his loss and failure of his lover to defend his honor.
Drake begs him to give it a rest but knowing how easily distracted (and turned on) he can get, Beau shows off. Flexing and flaunting, he lets the frustrated cuck combatant take in the sights as well as cop a feel, after feel...after feel... and just like that: Drake gets seduced into another ill-fated match against Beau. Within minutes: Drake is tapping and humped into the mat, ass ridden into all-too-familiar territory against an all-too-familiar opponent. Around the time it sets in that we're about to witness another textbook squash of Drake Marcos... shit goes sideways.
Drake not only seizes control of Beau's bountiful basket, he seizes control of the entire encounter. Employing a special blend of pleasure, pain, and punishment, Drake sets about breaking Beau through means physical, mental...and sexual.
What follows is a methodical destruction and dissection of the Him-Beau who seems to have no answer to Drake's dominance and demands. Folded, beaten, stretched, and absolutely steamrolled, it seems that the weaker Beau becomes, the stronger (and meaner!) Drake gets.
Things go from bad to worse as his mouthwatering muscle is mauled and he is forced to beg for mercy while those pleas are mocked. Breaking out the nipple clamps, Drake makes it clear that he will not be satisfied by a tap, a pin, or a knockout. What Drake desires is the greatest, most humiliating submission of them all: "Call. Me. Daddy."
(A tale from the world of "The Jobber's Jobber")