Daddy Vader (big Van Vader)

The blood quickly rushed to my head as I hung upside down. My arms wrapped around his big waist desperately trying to avoid being dropped on my head. Although, that was the ultimate end of a tombstone pile driver that I currently found myself held in. All it would take was him dropping to his knees, and I'd be finished. Luckily, this was only a practice session for Big Van Vader. Every Wednesday afternoon the big man, Harley Race, and myself would reserve some local gym (most of the time a boxing gym) wherever the current WCW tour happened to be. My head dangled between Vader's crotch and his knees - close enough to distinguish the pure man smell of his sweating bulge covered in black tights.

"Good! That was a quicker transition. Now you'd drive his head into the mat with a straight drop to your knees." The voice was from Harley Race who was Vader's manager but currently acting as his coach while Vader worked through his arsenal of moves. I was now in the service of Big Van Vader and was his practice dummy for such sessions.

"I like that second type of lift. Leave him to rest on my shoulder a bit before maneuvering him down into position." Vader and Mr. Race continued to have this conversation on what was the best technique for this new move. I hung upside down throughout. I knew they did this on purpose to humiliate me. They enjoyed toying with me and making me feel small and helpless. That seemed to be my purpose in this newly formed stable.

"Alright, put the boy down. Let's work on another move."

"What do you mean, boss? I think he likes it down there. You should have seen him last night. I had to physically pull his head out of my crotch. He's really developed an eager taste for my bull cock." The two bigger men laughed at this. There was some truth to that to be honest. While Vader commanded this form of service most nights and after his matches, I had turned into a very willing submissive. My secret pleasure in orally satisfying The Mastodon was not so secret anymore.

"Yes, I'm sure he does, but c'mon, we need to get some more work done. Sting and Flair aren't going to beat themselves."

"Alright, alright. We'll save the fun for later." My feet returned to the floor albeit in a less than graceful way. I was more dumped off Vader's shoulders than anything. I stumbled a few steps to catch my balance.

"Let's work the ropes and a few transitional moves." Mr. Race called out. I was still dizzy from being held upside down for so long, but Vader didn't wait on me to catch my balance. His big bear paw seized me tightly around the wrist, and I was flung into the ropes. I bounced back and slammed hard into the rock solid stomach of the oncoming 6'4, 400+ pound man. My back bounced off the mat with a great thud.

"Awesome power! Do that one again!" Mr. Race coached Vader from the floor below the ring.

Vader pulled me up viciously by the hair. My vision was hazy and coming in only in flashes like a picture flip book. The first image I processed was Vader in his patented red and black ankle length singlet; the second image was black ropes and the weight room situated just beyond the ring; and the third and final image was a charging growling Vader who collided into me with full force. My back hit the mat so hard I bounced in the air and ended up on my belly.

"C'mon little man! Get your ass up!" I felt his rough fingers slip inside the back of my wrestling trunks, grab the tied drawstring, and pull me to my feet. He flung me across the ring again but this time into the turnbuckle. My back slumped against the corner and my arms hung over the top rope. Vader took a running start and when he got close to me, jumped into the air spreading his arms out wide and landed on me with all his weight and momentum. He had sandwiched me between his body and the turnbuckle. I slumped to the floor and laid against the bottom turnbuckle.

"Ease up on the kid a bit, will ya? You're going to break him in half if you're not careful." Mr. Race pleaded on my behalf.

"How am I supposed to get a workout if it's not full go? Wonderboy, here, needs to toughen up a little bit anyway." Vader stayed in the corner with me as he argued with Mr. Race. He pressed himself all the way into the corner so my head was held in place by his crotch.

"I know big man, but lighten up a little bit. At least save some of his beating for your finishing moves."

Reluctantly, Vader agreed to ease up. He could have fooled me, though. Each successive move seemed to hit just as hard as the first. He pushed me away from his body while still holding me tight by the wrist, and then used that strong hold to sling shot me back towards him right into a clobbering short arm clothesline.

Vader prompted me to stand up grabbing a fistful of hair again. However, I must have been too slow because I received a short slap to the face on my way up. He then hoisted me up in a torture rack position. I felt so high in the air on top of Vader's mountainous shoulders. Vader then dropped straight to his back crashing us both hard into the mat. I squirmed around in pain while Vader got straight to his feet.

"Get up, boy!" I rolled over and got on all fours. I crawled towards Vader and stretched out my hands to use his body as a ladder to climb up to a standing position. My eyes were barely open, but I felt his left hand steady itself over my right collar bone, and his right hand reach down and grab me on the inside of the groin. I knew I was small in that department but being held like this in Vader's big meaty hands made me feel even smaller - like a true jobber boy. In one effortless motion he lifted me high above his head in a gorilla press. But, he didn't slam me right away. Instead, he paraded me around the ring showing off his strength to his audience of one. He even did a couple of shoulder presses with me.

"That's it Vader! You're a beast! You da' man! Ain't no one in that locker room as strong as you!"

I don't think Vader needed his ego to be fed any further, but Mr. Race was always there to build him up.

Vader growled, encouraged by this praise, and dumped my body over his head, so I landed directly on my back. I was seeing stars now but was able to make out the upside down figure of Big Daddy Vader staring down at me. He straddled my shoulders, squatted down, and pulled my legs towards him, so he could hook my ankles underneath his arm pits. His hands locked together around my waist. All I could see was his big spread backside that I had been forced to kiss so many times including in front of fans in the ring while I called him "Daddy." He swung me away from his body all the way up and over his head (my head and shoulders traveling in a huge arch like I was on a ferris wheel) until we both landed on our backs - me taking the full brunt of the move.

"Damn Champ! You are looking great today! Sting and Flair won't be able to touch you! Now, let's work on a few submission moves."

"You got it, boss," said Vader, now starting to breathe heavy.

Vader turned me over, lifted me up and hooked my arms over his thighs, grabbed me under the chin and sat back on my waist. It was a camel clutch. My neck strained against this force. Mr. Race stepped into the ring and helped Vader accomplish the proper technique to cause the most amount of pain.

Eventually, Vader let go of the hold and moved onto the next one. He kept me on the mat and put me in a brutal head scissors, making sure that my chin and nose were buried in his bulge. Anytime he could humiliate me, he did. He squeezed his massive thighs together until I tapped. He would lessen the squeeze until I recovered and then squeeze again. He did this over and over to his great amusement.

"Yeah boy, feel the strength in Daddy's legs. You haven't yet experienced their full power on that sweet ass of yours, but you will. Once Daddy wins the world championship he's going to celebrate by plowing you for the first time." I tapped again. Finally, Vader released the hold entirely.

Next, I was lifted into a bear hug. My legs were well above his waist and wrapped around his upper torso. I stared down in pain at the intimidating heel wearing a dark red leather mask. As he had done with the head scissors, Vader would squeeze until I gave up, lighten the hold until I could recover; and then squeeze again. However, instead of tapping out, I had to answer a question - a question Vader often screamed at his opponents during his matches.

"WHO'S DA MAN?" Vader yelled. I answered correctly each time. Soon this catchphrase became more personal. "WHO'S YOUR DADDY?" I now had to submit by calling Vader, "daddy." It was a name I had grown to love calling him, though I preferred to in less painful circumstances.

"Alright Daddy Vader, time to finish up. Let's do a few power bombs, then call it a day." I was grateful to hear the practice session was soon to be over, but I didn't look forward to receiving this alpha monster's most devastating move.

Vader released the bear hug. Amazingly, I was able to stay standing. He grabbed the sides of my head and forcefully thrust my head between his legs. It was an action that first made me attracted to Vader when I was an up and coming wrestler. I loved how he bent his jobbers over and pulled them into his body, humiliatingly placing their head just underneath his manhood. The hottest matches of him were when he would take his time and taunt to the audience while he held his opponent in this position. He wasn't worried about them escaping or countering. They had nowhere to go. They were trapped in between the strong thighs of this beast of a man. The best thing to do was to grab hold of Vader's calves and await your doom.

I, now, found myself in this position. I could feel his heavy sack resting on the back of my neck. Vader locked his bulky arms around my waist and lifted me in the air in one foul swoop before slamming me to the mat. The motion of the move made me dizzy, and the hard crash to the mat multiplied that feeling. He pulled my lifeless body up and powerbombed me two more times.

After this third and final time, and a call for mercy from Mr. Race, Vader put his size 15 boot on my chest and flexed over me. Mr. Race unnecessarily counted a pin fall. My body ached with pain, but as I squinted up at this big husky alpha, I couldn't help but admire the man. Who else in the world could manhandle me like this? I was proud to be the lackey to the most monstrous heel in professional wrestling.

"Time to hit the showers, champ." Mr. Race put a towel around Vader's shoulders, so he could wipe the sweat from his face. Vader stepped out of the ring and waited by the apron.

"You did good today, kid. You're really good at taking a beating." Mr. Race extended to me this condescending compliment as he rolled me toward the ropes. When I was close enough Vader reached in and yanked me out of the ring and draped me over his shoulders.

"Let's go, boy. You're going to help Daddy get all nice and clean." My senses slowly came back to me while I lay limp over Vader's shoulder. I watched his ass move back and forth with each step as we ventured through a swinging door and toward the locker room. I was carried down a short tiled hallway before finally being put down on a bench. Vader stripped me out of my wrestling gear and directed me to do the same to him. It took me a fair bit longer to do this as he was a much bigger man than me and his tights clung to his sweat covered body. I dropped to my knees to tug down his singlet. When I had managed to do this, I looked up at his hog of a cock hanging in front of me. His testosterone was already reeling from the workout, and he placed his hand on the back of my head to pull me closer. He didn't need to do this, however. I was already lunging forward with an open mouth. He held the back of my head and rocked back and forth gently fucking my mouth. He was completely naked except for his mask. He sighed heavily allowing his hulking muscles to finally relax after an intense session. He enjoyed this for about a minute before halting our fun.

"Alright boy, let's continue in the shower." He let me go and pulled off his mask. I followed his massive naked body into the showers next room over. The muscles in his back and arms glistened with sweat.

Once in the shower, Vader relaxed under the hot water while I went to work. I grabbed a bar of soap and began to wash every inch of his body. I started with his upper body, first his large chest and stomach, then his burly arms and back. I was having to use lots of soap!

Vader was not a fat man as many have mistaken. He was built of rock hard and solid muscle. I knew this all too well having experienced its brunt force in the ring and now soaping him down in the shower. There was no softness or give to him. He was a man - excuse me, DA' MAN! - amongst boys. After completing a few laps of his chest, stomach, and back, I dropped to my knees to wash his bottom half. I went all up and down his legs, giving his ass a few kisses also. Vader liked when I did this. It was a clear sign of respect and indicated the juxtaposition between us two.

I stood up, and he then began to wash me. I was always reminded how big his hands were at that moment. You'd think I would catch on to this but I was always surprised by their size and strength. He easily maneuvered me how he wanted me - turning me this way and that. He pressed me against the wall and made me spread my legs so he could wash my backside. He took the liberty of giving me a couple smacks on the ass. His sex drive was gearing up again.

I dropped to my knees again and washed the front of his legs and groin. It was at this point that I resumed his customary blow job. I had grown quite good at servicing the big man. I was proud when I heard him moan with pleasure.

"Mmm, that's it, boy. Get on your knees and suck your Daddy. Keep going boy, that's it." I steadied myself by placing my hands on his hips as I bobbed back and forth. I, also, always liked looking up at Daddy Vader and seeing his big bull body as I had a mouthful of cock. It turned me on in a way that nothing else could. Vader was quick this time around (he wasn't always), and I swallowed every drop of his seed. I washed his front one more time, and then jumped under another nozzle to rinse off before I went and dried Vader off with his oversized towel.

Finally, we dressed and headed out the door. I carried his bag and mine and followed him to the car where Mr. Race was waiting. I limped and my body ached, but I felt like the luckiest jobber in the world being under the wing of Big Daddy Vader.