|Description||"That's right there is a SEX GOD!" Guido proclaims as he pops his biceps in front of the mirror. Standing on the ring apron, Chet is his moonstruck audience, a longtime fan, anxious to learn the fine art of heelery at the feet of perhaps the most brutal and charismatic heel at BG East today. Chet Chastain caught everybody's attention earlier this year in a badboy-versus-badboy duel against Dolph Danner. He was indeed impressive. Then, again, what could be more perfect? He has the face and bod of a babyface and the soul of a cad! The kid has dreamed of becoming a pro-wrestling heel since kindergarten. Still, he's facing the Daddy of All Dirtbags in Guido Genatto, the man who famously introduced himself to sweet, young Kip Sorell last year by kicking him in the head. Consensus here at BGE is that young Mister Chastain is going to be taken to school in ways he cannot even imagine, and all in the name of hero-worship!
Guido orders the heel-in-training to perform a few squats. He wants to check out the guy's form. Nothing to complain about in that department. Straight back, firm buns, well-formed pecs and abs. Next Guido wants to see his pushups. Chet complies. Then, true to form, guileful Guido hops on the recruit's back and clutches his chin, mussing Chet's hundred-dollar haircut against his hairy chest. Genatto eases down into a riding position, his thickly muscled thighs flanking the smaller wrestler's ribcage. "Doesn't it feel good?" he asks suggestively, murmuring into Chet's ear. "No, it doesn't fuckin' feel good!" Chet spits out the words. "Spread those legs!" Guido demands in his velvetiest voice. He forces Chet's legs open with his knees. Guido's messing with the wannabe heel's head in a big way. Chet strains to push himself up, attempting to escape, but Guido is just too big to budge.
With a derisive laugh, Guido rises to his feet, commanding the flunky to get on his back. Again Chet unquestioningly complies. Guido stands on the toes of the rookie's boots. He wants to see some sit-ups. He admires the flexing abdominals before him. As if unable to stop himself, he lunges, sinking his fingers into the midsection. Guido iron-claws Chet's abs, pressing down with his full 235 pounds, his forearm braced against his victim's jaw. A double claw hold follows, then a couple of pincer-like plucks to the crotch. Guido knows his audience by now. Hell, the guy arrived at BG East knowing his audience like the back of his hand. Equally a master of painful holds and raunchy humiliations, in Fan Fantasy 3 Guido gives full rein to his talent for double entendre and double top wrist locks.
Trust us on this one: Few things are more enjoyable than to watch lithe Chet struggle and squirm in the grip of Guido's figure-four choke hold, which soon enough transitions to a luxuriously long head scissors. Chet coughs drily, his lips just inches from the daddy-heel's crotch. Ready to show his mettle, Chet reverses the scissors, seemingly with success, but then Guido casually peels the legs away like he's removing a winter scarf. Guido resumes choking the ambitious stud, bringing him back in line, bending the newcomer to his will. In a bold and frankly bizarre move, Guido lies on his back, spread-eagle, and orders Chet to squat down on his face! Chet is unnerved by Guido's sadistic laughter. He balks. He seems to know better but for some reason can't stop himself from stepping ... er, "squatting" --- into yet another of Genatto's cleverly laid traps.
"Look at us! Look at us together! We are going to be the best team ever!" Guido exults while admiring the tight, merciless leglock he binds Chet with, somewhat later in the match. If in fact Guido succeeds in whipping Chet into shape as a Grade-A bad-ass, these two will no doubt sizzle as daddy-and-son heels in future matches. (We can only hope and pray!) Ball grabbing, hair pulling, dry humping, extreme (like-you-wouldn't-believe) crab holds, and forced hip swiveling: this fantasy fight is bursting with malicious treats.
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