Post by L. S. Hutchinson on Jun 18, 2012 21:24:46 GMT -5
Warning, this roleplay contains scenes of a sexual nature. I have changed the font in the sexual chapter to black in case anybody does not want to read it. For those who do wish to read the poorly written sex scene between Stytch and his wife, scroll over the black bit and read it that way. It wasn't written very well mostly because I didn't know how far I should go with the sex scene, so I tried to keep it as non-descriptive as possible. Hope you enjoy the roleplay none-the-less - L. S. Hutchinson
“The Note” by L. S. Hutchinson
Monday, 12:52 A.M.
I slowly awake from my not-so-lengthy slumber, arm dangling off of the bed as I lay their wearing nothing more than my striped dark blue, black and white boxer shorts. I take a deep breath, exhaling soon afterwards, realising that I had thrown the covers off of my body in my sleep. I tend to do that from time to time, it’s some form of letting out of stress that I my subconcious does every so often. Every time I’ve got a big match, my covers end up on the floor. One way ... or another.
I begin to open my bright blue eyes, almost being blinded by the sunlight peeking through the blinds directly in front of me. I let out a sigh as I start to pull myself up from the bed. I dangle my legs off of the side and sit on the side of the bed for a few moments as I wobble my head, wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush my fringe out of my eyes.
I stand myself up and take a look at a note left by Mary. She’s my wife, in case you didn’t already know. She’s a beautiful Scottish redhead that’s also the mother to two of my children. She got pregnant with Kyle when we were just stupid teenagers, although I’ve only known of Kyle’s existence for a year or so. Basically I got her pregnant, her father moved her away and I never found out until little over a year ago when she recognised me on TV. By that time I’d already gotten married and had two twin sons with my first wife. Catalina, my first wife, died not too long before I reunited with Mary. Our apartment exploded for no reason, killing her instantly. It’s still unknown what caused it. Anyways, now I’m married to Mary and we have four children we love. Kyle, Matt, Nick and Cody. The note Mary had left me was related to the kids.
The Note
“Wakey wakey sexy-pants, hehe. I’m taking the kids to school, doing some shopping. Might meet up with my sister and DeWayne later. I’ll be back in a few hours. Can you fix the computer and get some food? Love you, XXX.
”
I smirk to myself. Oh how I loved the way she would leave me notes like this all around the house. Other people might find it annoying but I just find it kinda funny. I loved these little notes. I remembered my oldest son, Kyle, will be out of school in three hours. Alright, it’s time to get busy.
I walk out of the bedroom and take a right, walking straight into the bathroom, making sure to lock it after me. I slowly step into the shower, pull off my boxer shorts, twist the dials on the shower to my preferred level of hotness and simply stand there closing my eyes and brushing my slightly greying medium length hair back, making sure to get my fringe out of my eyes and squirt some shower gel onto my body. After a few minute of cleaning my body, I step out of the shower and grab the nearest towel, drying my hair, then my body. I pull up a new pair of boxer shorts and make my way to the bathroom mirror.
I squirt some tooth paste onto a black and green battery powered toothbrush and proceed to brush my teeth until I accidentally make my gums bleed. I quickly spit out the blood and try to get the blood off of my teeth. After all is done with the brushing of teeth, I pick up my basic razor and a pair of beard trimming scissors, making sure to shave around the neck and outline of the beard, trimming my beard into a less prickely look with the scissors. After my beard trimming is done, I mess with my hair for about five minutes, making sure to style my fringe the way I like it. I try to spike the hair but soon change my mind and flatten it down. By spiking it up you would see the bald spots I was gaining, something that I found extremely mbarrassing.
After I had finished styling my hair, I unlock the bathroom door and make my way back to the bedroom. I open up the wardrobe me and Mary shared and took a good look inside. I was a man that valued looking the best I could as one of my top priorities, some may say I’m vain, but they’re probably all fat ugly wannabes. Nothing againt fat or ugly people. I stared at the inside of the wardrobe, pulling a “:L” face as I realised that Mary’s side of the wardrobe seemed to be squashing all of the clothes on my side up into the inside of the wardrobe. Great. Funny thing is that when she cleans up the wardrobe every few months, she throws out MY fucking clothes. :L
I sigh as I think this, deciding to take out a green long sleeved shirt, a dark grey suit vest, a stylish black suit jacket, dark blue jeans, black and grey trainers, a light brown belt, a black and white bracelet and a roman numeral ring. I had been wearing a brown and yellow pendant all this time. I slept in it, I showered in it and I basically never took it off. Haven’t taken it off for a few months, actually. I had gotten it as a gift for christmas when I was a kid. Lucky I found it.
I pull up the jeans, tie the belt, button up the shirt and the suit vest, placed my arms into the jacket but decided to leave it open, tied on the bracelet around my wrist, placed the ring on the index finger of my right hand, pulled up my socks and tied up my trainers. I then proceeded to pull out my pendant, placing it out of the shirt and letting it dangle to the bottom of my wide muscley chest.
After I had dressed myself in what has become my normal clothing, I sit my arse onto the banister of the stairs and slid my way to the bottom, picking up a newspaper on my way down and casually walking off towards the living room. I open up the newspaper and take a look straight at the star signs. I took a look at my star sign, reading it as I made my way to the computer that Mary had told me needs fixing. I read out the star sign out loud.
Stytch
“Aries, you find yourself in a hard situation. You don’t want to let anyone down at work but you might have to try your absolute hardest if you wish to get that big promotion. Also, your love life will get exceptionally better. Single? Then you’ll meet a person with the initials “B. A.”.”
I raise an eyebrow to the star sign. That was pretty accurate for a hokey pokey generic “phychic” writer.
Stytch (thinking)
“Even if this “psychic” writer was actually psychic, they’d have to make the star signs so generic that it would apply to all of the Aries, Sagittarians, Leos and so on. I wonder if all the aries but me moved out, would she call me by name in the star signs? Probably not.”
I quickly walk into my living room, throwing the paper onto the sofa as I take a look at the computer. I wasn’t exactly good with computers, but I knew what to do. It seems the person who had sold me the computer had failed to install a proper version of Windows, as such, I’ve run out of security and I might have to pay one hundred plus dollars for the proper Windows that SHOULD have come with the computer when I bought it. Damn you, cousin Scott! I don’t know what’s going on, it just keeps saying I don’t have a genuine Windows software or something.
After a few minutes of searching online for a definite answer for how to fix it, I decide to just leave it and to call in my brother’s best mate.
He’s kinda like a genius when it comes to computers, he obviously knows more than me, so I had decided to ask him to help with the computer rather than trying to fix it myself, in fear of fucking it up even more.
I remember the next thing on the note Mary left me: Get some food.
So I pick up my car and front door keys from the key bowl near the front door and leave the house for a little while. I lock the front door, get into my crappy black car and make my way to the local supermarket. This car might not be flashy and sexy like my previous car, a black 2010 Tesla Roadster, but I’ve got a family, with family comes the need for more than two seats.
After a three minute drive, I get to the supermarket, lock my car doors and head straight for the baskets. I always got the baskets instead of the trolleys, I just never really expect to get much but always end up with more food than I can carry, so I just end up kicking the basket around on the floor as people stare at me ... fuck them, the bastard thing’s heavy!
After about twenty minutes of searching through the supermarket, I end up with a basket of pasties, cans of soup and beans, sausages, cornettos, some fruit, some cans of energy drink, a cake, a wrestling magazine, some beef, chicken and fish, chips, burgers, curly fries, milkshake, sausage rolls, chicken nuggets and some other bits and bobs of food.
As I balance the basket on the side of the fridge thing and pick up some veggie burgers, I’m approached by two familiar faces. It was mere coincidence that we would bump into eachother. The man turned me around, pushed me against the fridges and began to squeeze his hands tight around my neck, looking me dead in the eyes as he tips over my basket slightly in his anger. This ... was Drake Hunter, soon followed by his little girlfriend, Electra. I thought this shit was done with.
Drake Hunter
“You fucking piece of shit!”
Electra attempts to pull him away from me.
Electra
“Drake, please, don’t do this. Not in public.”
Drake Hunter
“Why not? This prick RUINED my life!”
Electra
“Please ...”
Drake Hunter
“Jordan, we were supposed to be friends. How could you do this to me!?!?”
I push him away.
Stytch
“I didn’t do ANYTHING to you, Drake.”
Drake Hunter
“No point lying, Jordan. I found the mask in your locker room. I KNOQ it’s you!”
Drake runs up to me and proceeds to jab me in the jaw, slamming my face into the fridges and continuing to attack me with a frenzy of punches and kicks. I didn’t fight back, I didn’t want to. He’s still my best friend, even if he’s going a little crazy. Sadly, I lost my temper and retaliated.
I knocked Drake down to the floor, hitting his head as he fell. Electra quickly dropped down to him and helped him up. They both stared at me, seemingly shocked I retaliated.
Stytch
“Drake, we’ve known each other years, you know I wouldn’t do this. I literally couldn’t be H4ck3r. I was there when he tried to steal your belt, I scared him away with the others. Also, if you have the paintball mask, how did I get another exaclty like it for your and H4ck3r’s before-CA words? Huh?”
Drake thinks for a minute as Electra helps him to his feet. He looks over to me and pulls a disgusted facial expression.
Drake Hunter
“... Fine. But when I unmask H4ck3r .... if it’s you under that mask ... I swear I’ll tell Mary everything.”
Stytch
“Everything?”
Drake Hunter
“Don’t fuck with me, I know you cheated on Mary a while back with your “protoge” whilst she was pregnant. If you are H4ck3r ... I’ll tell her.”
Stytch
“And if I’m not H4ck3r ... what then?”
Drake Hunter
“... Then you, me, Electra and Mary will go out, maybe bowling or something?”
I smile.
Stytch
“Sounds like a plan.”
We shake hands and part ways as I pick up my basket and sigh.
Stytch
“The insane wanker deserves everything that’s coming to him.”
I look over to my right to see an old granny staring at me and tutting. I casually explain the fight.
Stytch
"He ... uh ... he thinks I run around on rooftops drugging girls and taking them back to my lair."
The old woman walks off rather quickly ... I probably could have explained that a bit better ...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Scenes Of A Sexual Nature” By L. S. Hutchinson
Monday, 02:30 P.M.
As I made my way back into the house after about an hour of shopping for food, I opened the door and begun to take my shoppibg bags into the house, leaving them on one of the sofas for the time being. I go back and forth from the car to the house, to the house to the car until I had taken all the bags into the living room. I lock up the car and shut the door behind me as I re-re-re-re-re entered my house.
I began to empty the bags one item at a time, going into the open area kitchen and stocking the numerous cupboards full with what food I had gotten. I kept on doing this for about two minutes until I realised there were no more room in the cupboards, fridge and freezer. Damn. I decided to simply leave the food on the counter, Mary’ll put it somewhere. She’s good at fitting things in tight spaces ... if you know what I mean. Heh.
I decide to crank open a can of Monster energy and mix it with a bit of WKD and scotch. Yes, I drink now. I had been against drinking for about a year but I recently decided to enjoy life and drink a litte, no harm in a little alcahol here and there. I never drunk a lot, just mix some alcahol in with some energy drinks once or twice a week. No harm in it. It’s not like I ever get drunk from it.
I gulp down the mixed drink, most people wouldn’t like the mix but I loved it. Yay for alcohol!
As I threw the empty can into the bin, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. My first reaction was “fuck, I just say a ghost” but as it turns out, it was just my pet dog, Bess. I’d had her about five years now. She was a tiny ginger staffie with white fur on her paws, chest and the end of her tail. I loved her like a part of the family. She was originally my sister’s dog as a puppy but she didn’t want to look after her anymore, so it was either I have her or she got sold. I love my little bessie, which will only make it harder for me when she eventually dies. That’ll be a sad day for me indeed. But she’s perfectly healthy now and she’s got a good few years left in her. Everybody thinks staffs are bad and evil just because a few staffs killed and mauled some kids back in Britain, but that’s not the case. The worst Bess will ever do to you would be to lick you to death. She’s such a well trained dog, honestly the most lovely animals I’ve ever known.
I began to walk to the windows, as that was where Bess was barking at. I took a look outside and smiled. It was Mary coming back from her sister’s. No doubt they’ve been talking about wedding plans for Chloe’s wedding. See, Chloe proposed to DeWayne, one of my best friends, and he accepted. Now they’re getting married pretty soon and Chloe’s stressing out about everything. Mary obviously got fed up and had decided to come home early after dropping the kids off at my parents’ house and at school.
As soon as she got into the house, she came to find me and gave me a big sensual loving kiss, wrapping her arms around me as I held one hand on her butt and slid the other down her panties. I was taken offguard by the kiss but I obviously knew what to do by now.
She smirked as we stopped kissing. Taking out a letter from her pocket and passing it to me.
Mary
“Here, some guy gave this to me on my way out this morning. Didn’t have time to go back inside and leave it for you.”
I cock an eyebrow up.
Stytch
“Hmm, I don’t get paid today, I was already paid on the seventh ...”
I rip open the letter, instantly drawing my eyes to whoever sent it.
Stytch (reading)
“From Mister Johnny Clash ...”
There seems to be a stain inside the elvelope ... a brown one. I instantly threw the letter away.
Stytch
“That’s fucking disgusting.”
Mary
“What?”
Stytch
“Johnny crapped in a letter and sent it to me ...”
Mary’s facial expression changes from a look of wonder and curiosity to a look of disgust.
Mary
“I’m gonna wash my hands ...”
Mary walked over to the taps, running the cold water and washing her tiny little hands. I was “in the mood”, so I cockily walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She smiled as I spun her around and kissed her gently. She looks down at me - because I’m a bit shorter - and smiles.
Mary
“I’ll never get used to how weird it is that I have to lean down to kiss you.”
I laugh, continuing to make out with my wife as we made our way out of the open kitchen and up to the bedroom. We remove bits of clothes as we make our journey to the bedroom, such as my suit jacket, her scarfy thing that Ghost wears in COD, my trainers and socks, her wristbands, my wristbands, ring, suit vest and shirt and her necklace.
Boom-chika-wah-woaw
By this time, we’re right next to our bedroom with clothes lying around all over the house, the dog wondering what the fuck is going on as Mary locks our door and shuts the curtains. We didn’t want any snooty photo-journalists taking any nasty shots of us doing it only for it to end up on one of those porn sites *caugh* Tulisa *caugh*.
We continued to kiss as she removed her jeans, jacket and top, revealing a "rocking" pale body. I smiled as she looked me straight in the eyes, grabbed the wrists and placing them onto her breasts. This only made me smile more, even though I'm more a an ass person than a boob person.
We kiss one more as I remove my hands from her breasts and allow her to remove her bra, revealing the familiar perky bust. She laughed a little as she pulled down her panties and stood there completely naked, allowing me to take a good look at her body for a moment.
I still think “wow” everytime I see her naked. Can’t believe my fucking luck. I love my wife.
She kissed me once more as she made her way down to my jeans, removing the tight belt and helping me rip them off. She gets on her knees, looks up to me, making eye contact and smiling before whipping out my "manhood". She gives me another smile, soon giving "it" a good hard tug for about a minute or so before jumping into bed and striking a pose.
Mary
“My body is ready.”
We laugh at the internet meme reference as I climb into bed and I begin to kiss her all over, down from her lips to her neck, to her neck to her chest and from her chest down to her belly. She takes in a deep nervous breath as I make my way down to her “ginger forrest” and go crazy down there, something which I claim to have mastered over our marriage.
I continue doing this for a few minutes before I reamerge and wipe my lips. I didn’t like the taste but I didn’t care. I seemed to be good at it. Evertime I did that, she would respond with a series of moans, getting louder and louder. It was like fiddling with the sound dial on a stereo. I did it for the shits and giggles.
I lift her up and position her against the wall to the right of our bed. She wraps her arms and legs around me as we proceed to kiss and have wild passionate unprotected sex for the next thirty minutes. What? I take a while ... don't judge me.
Our journey into pleasure always ended the same way ... with Mary wiping her lips clean. This time we continued a little bit more but I wasn't really in the mood anymore. I was exhausted but I still managed to "finish" once again.
As soon as I had “finished up”, I roll off of her, naked with my arse in the air as she throws the duvet over us and turns to face me. We were both pretty tuckered out. We hadn’t “done the deed” in about a week, we tend to go wild if we hadn’t done it in a while. I smile to myself as I wipe the mixture of mine and Mary's sweat from my chest. Mary just leans on her hand and crawls her fingers over me.
Mary
“Wanna go another round?”
Stytch
“I would but I’m too exhausted.”
Mary
“Awrh, shame. I was gonna let you do that thing you like.”
Stytch
“You mean the thing with the tennis balls?”
Mary smiles.
Mary
“No ... guess again.”
Stytch
“The spiderman thing?”
Mary
“No.”
Stytch
“Ah, you mean the thing with the sellotape?”
Mary nods and laughs.
Stytch
“I’ll get the lube.”
I jump out of bed, pull on my boxer shorts and run to our locked “sex box” as we call it as Mary smirks and brushes back her hair.
Mary
“I fucking love that man.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“The Rage” By L. S. Hutchinson
Monday, 12:30 P.M.
Years ago when I first started my wrestling career, I used quite a few different names, alter egos and gimmicks. My first gimmick was that of a serious monsterous individual that came to be known as “RAGE” due to me often losing my temper and basically just annihilating whoever was unfortunate enough to be in the same ring as me. I only had a few matches before I ditched the name and everything else, soon joining NCW and becoming “The Frightmare" Stytch/Stitch. I’ve changed so much since then. Since that RAGEful time in my career. I’ve become childish, jokey, rather capable in the ring and a much better speaker. I was too serious back then, way too serious. I’m glad I ditched the name and the costume that came with it ... but for some reason ... here it is.
I had awoken from a quick nap and found a large suit bag hanging on the staircase railing. It was around midnight, so my wife and kids were fast sleep by then. I'm a night owl though, never sleep at midnight, more of a "sleep in the morning" kinda guy. Out of curiosity, I looked inside. What I found was the very same mask I had worn years ago under the RAGE name, acompanied by the very same wrestling gear I had worn all those years ago. The black arm pads, the black and red MMA gloves, the black and red jeans, black belt with the white skull belt buckle and the black wrestling boots with the red skull design on the boot. Even the big red skull mask with the hole in the top for the mohawk... it was all the real genuine costume I had thrown away years ago when I ditched this serious persona and started wrestling under the Stytch name.
It couldn’t be ... how ... wha- ... why is this here?
As I grasp onto the blood-coloured skull mask, I felt a warm senseation on my shoulder. A sensation that felt an awkful lot like a hand. It wasn’t Mary’s. I know what her hands feel like on my skin ... they don’t feel like this. Once more I feel a sensation on my shoulder, albeit the opposite one with a more gentle, smaller touch. Two people were behind me ... I feared the worst ... I was being robbed. I quickly and harsh span my head around to see who it was.
Stytch
“What ... what’re you doing here?”
To my surprise, my not-so-friendly unwanted house guests turned out to be none other than the mysterious masked “destroyer of worlds” himself, H4ck3r, accompanied by a masked female.
I hadn’t seen her before, she quite frankly gave me the creeps. After my question, I was replied with a mechanical explanation and an interresting offering from H4ck3r.
H4ck3r
“Good day, Mister Sonispier. You’ll have to excuse our intrusion but I have a rather compelling offer for you, my good sir.”
Stytch
“What?”
H4ck3r
“Hmm ... let me speak down to you in a language that you can clearly understand.”
H4ck3r thinks for a moment.
H4ck3r
“You do something for me, I do something for you.”
My first reply is a joke.
Stytch
“Sorry, mate. I’m not into that kinda shit.”
I told you I became childish and jokey, even if the jokes are shit.
H4ck3r
“Hmm. Here’s the offer. Me and my ... associate ... will help you win the NYCCW world heavyweight championship ... if you help me defeat the vile Drake Hunter.”
Stytch
“And what’s the RAGE attire for?”
H4ck3r
“You were a lot more serious and aggressive when you wore that costume. You need to focus of getting into that persona, the costume will help. If you’re ever going to beat Johnny, Apostle Kried AND Rye Payne ... then you need to let out the RAGE, let out all the anger you hold so deep inside. LET IT OUT!”
I look on at H4ck3r, my head slowly turning down to the costume in my hands as I find myself gripping tight onto it. I look back up again, stand up and begin my reply to his offer.
Stytch
“How fucking dare you.”
I throw the RAGE costume into H4ck3r’s arms.
Stytch
“I’m a one time NCW Extreme champion, one time NCW Dungeon champion, one time NCW Blood and Beer champion, two time NCW tag team champion with Chris Storm, two time NCW Television champion, two time NCW North American champion, a three time NCW world heavyweight champion, a one time EAW tag team champion, a two time EAW television champion, a one time EAW extreme champion, a one time XWO tag team champion, a one time NWD tag team champion and the CURRENT NYCCW tag team champion. So FUCK you and your sad little fantasies. I’m not gonna just throw away everything I’ve accomplished both inside the ring and outside the ring just to win a stupid fucking title that’s already ruined by some suit-wearing slut-bumming old-man-fucking pukestain of champion. FUCK YOU you fucking abolute cumfaced wanker. PISS OFF!”
I throw H4ck3r and his masked female friend out of my house. I had no respect for the man or his companion, they’re both a pair of cunts as far as I’m concerned. I attempt to shut the door but H4ck3r jams his foot in the way, we talk through the few centimeter long gap in the door.
H4ck3r
“See, you’re already letting out your anger.”
H4ck3r passed me the rage mask.
H4ck3r
“Keep it.”
He then left, seeming to vanish into the darkness, the only evidence of his presence in the shadows being the lights that seemed to eluminate from the female’s gas mask, shining up on his attire.
I stared at them for a moment before taking a gander at the mask, staring into the dark meshed eye holes and smirking.
Stytch
“Maybe H4ck3r was right ... maybe I do need to let out the rage ...”
I turn around the mask so that the back is facing me, continuing to steadily pull the mask tight over my face and find myself smirking at how good it felt to be wearing this again. Even though the mask felt amazing, like a drug pumping through my veins, I had to quit it. I began having thoughts, dark thoughts, like I used to. Violent thoughts. At that moment I tore the mask off and threw it to the floor, actually finding myself scared of it.
I don’t know whether it was the mask reminding me of who I was or whether this mask just radiates evil ... but all the same, I don’t want it. I don’t want to wear it, I don’t want it in my house, I don’t want it near my family and I certainly don’t want to change. I’m fine the way I am. I don’t need to be all serious and dark and adult ... I’m fine being a rich eccentric slightly greying twenty five year old childish guy who just so happends to be married, a father of four and one of the best wrestlers in NYCCW. I’m fine with that. I don’t want to go back to the way I was. I can’t.
I’m sick of losing though. I’m sick of trying so hard to win something just to fail miserably. This time I’m not going to fail. I WILL NOT fail.
Punch me, I’ll punch back twice as hard. Kick me, I’ll kick you back twice as hard. Knock me out, I’ll get back up. Pin me, I’ll kick out. Try to put a submission on me, I’ll fight with every essence of my being to get out of it. Try to escape the cage, I’ll drag you right back in. I’m not going to lose.
Not anymore.
At Caged Aggression I face the world heavyweight champion Johnny Clash, the undefeated Apostle Kried and the luckiest rookie alive, Rye Payne. When all is said and done, I’ll be running out of that cage, into the fans and screaming at the top of my lungs as I hold that world heavyweight championship above my head, proud of my accomplishments just moments before. Defeating Johnny Clash, the so called best in NYCCW, becoming the man that broke Apostle Kried’s undefeated streak and having brutally beaten up a man I have never gotten along with, Rye Payne.
At Caged Aggression, I’ll walk out the NEW NYCCW world heavyweight champion BY MYSELF, head held high, wrist still wrapped in a cast, knee supporter wrapped around my knee and the world heavyweight championship strapped across my waist.
I.
WILL.
NOT.
FAIL.
“The Note” by L. S. Hutchinson
Monday, 12:52 A.M.
I slowly awake from my not-so-lengthy slumber, arm dangling off of the bed as I lay their wearing nothing more than my striped dark blue, black and white boxer shorts. I take a deep breath, exhaling soon afterwards, realising that I had thrown the covers off of my body in my sleep. I tend to do that from time to time, it’s some form of letting out of stress that I my subconcious does every so often. Every time I’ve got a big match, my covers end up on the floor. One way ... or another.
I begin to open my bright blue eyes, almost being blinded by the sunlight peeking through the blinds directly in front of me. I let out a sigh as I start to pull myself up from the bed. I dangle my legs off of the side and sit on the side of the bed for a few moments as I wobble my head, wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush my fringe out of my eyes.
I stand myself up and take a look at a note left by Mary. She’s my wife, in case you didn’t already know. She’s a beautiful Scottish redhead that’s also the mother to two of my children. She got pregnant with Kyle when we were just stupid teenagers, although I’ve only known of Kyle’s existence for a year or so. Basically I got her pregnant, her father moved her away and I never found out until little over a year ago when she recognised me on TV. By that time I’d already gotten married and had two twin sons with my first wife. Catalina, my first wife, died not too long before I reunited with Mary. Our apartment exploded for no reason, killing her instantly. It’s still unknown what caused it. Anyways, now I’m married to Mary and we have four children we love. Kyle, Matt, Nick and Cody. The note Mary had left me was related to the kids.
The Note
“Wakey wakey sexy-pants, hehe. I’m taking the kids to school, doing some shopping. Might meet up with my sister and DeWayne later. I’ll be back in a few hours. Can you fix the computer and get some food? Love you, XXX.
”I smirk to myself. Oh how I loved the way she would leave me notes like this all around the house. Other people might find it annoying but I just find it kinda funny. I loved these little notes. I remembered my oldest son, Kyle, will be out of school in three hours. Alright, it’s time to get busy.
I walk out of the bedroom and take a right, walking straight into the bathroom, making sure to lock it after me. I slowly step into the shower, pull off my boxer shorts, twist the dials on the shower to my preferred level of hotness and simply stand there closing my eyes and brushing my slightly greying medium length hair back, making sure to get my fringe out of my eyes and squirt some shower gel onto my body. After a few minute of cleaning my body, I step out of the shower and grab the nearest towel, drying my hair, then my body. I pull up a new pair of boxer shorts and make my way to the bathroom mirror.
I squirt some tooth paste onto a black and green battery powered toothbrush and proceed to brush my teeth until I accidentally make my gums bleed. I quickly spit out the blood and try to get the blood off of my teeth. After all is done with the brushing of teeth, I pick up my basic razor and a pair of beard trimming scissors, making sure to shave around the neck and outline of the beard, trimming my beard into a less prickely look with the scissors. After my beard trimming is done, I mess with my hair for about five minutes, making sure to style my fringe the way I like it. I try to spike the hair but soon change my mind and flatten it down. By spiking it up you would see the bald spots I was gaining, something that I found extremely mbarrassing.
After I had finished styling my hair, I unlock the bathroom door and make my way back to the bedroom. I open up the wardrobe me and Mary shared and took a good look inside. I was a man that valued looking the best I could as one of my top priorities, some may say I’m vain, but they’re probably all fat ugly wannabes. Nothing againt fat or ugly people. I stared at the inside of the wardrobe, pulling a “:L” face as I realised that Mary’s side of the wardrobe seemed to be squashing all of the clothes on my side up into the inside of the wardrobe. Great. Funny thing is that when she cleans up the wardrobe every few months, she throws out MY fucking clothes. :L
I sigh as I think this, deciding to take out a green long sleeved shirt, a dark grey suit vest, a stylish black suit jacket, dark blue jeans, black and grey trainers, a light brown belt, a black and white bracelet and a roman numeral ring. I had been wearing a brown and yellow pendant all this time. I slept in it, I showered in it and I basically never took it off. Haven’t taken it off for a few months, actually. I had gotten it as a gift for christmas when I was a kid. Lucky I found it.
I pull up the jeans, tie the belt, button up the shirt and the suit vest, placed my arms into the jacket but decided to leave it open, tied on the bracelet around my wrist, placed the ring on the index finger of my right hand, pulled up my socks and tied up my trainers. I then proceeded to pull out my pendant, placing it out of the shirt and letting it dangle to the bottom of my wide muscley chest.
After I had dressed myself in what has become my normal clothing, I sit my arse onto the banister of the stairs and slid my way to the bottom, picking up a newspaper on my way down and casually walking off towards the living room. I open up the newspaper and take a look straight at the star signs. I took a look at my star sign, reading it as I made my way to the computer that Mary had told me needs fixing. I read out the star sign out loud.
Stytch
“Aries, you find yourself in a hard situation. You don’t want to let anyone down at work but you might have to try your absolute hardest if you wish to get that big promotion. Also, your love life will get exceptionally better. Single? Then you’ll meet a person with the initials “B. A.”.”
I raise an eyebrow to the star sign. That was pretty accurate for a hokey pokey generic “phychic” writer.
Stytch (thinking)
“Even if this “psychic” writer was actually psychic, they’d have to make the star signs so generic that it would apply to all of the Aries, Sagittarians, Leos and so on. I wonder if all the aries but me moved out, would she call me by name in the star signs? Probably not.”
I quickly walk into my living room, throwing the paper onto the sofa as I take a look at the computer. I wasn’t exactly good with computers, but I knew what to do. It seems the person who had sold me the computer had failed to install a proper version of Windows, as such, I’ve run out of security and I might have to pay one hundred plus dollars for the proper Windows that SHOULD have come with the computer when I bought it. Damn you, cousin Scott! I don’t know what’s going on, it just keeps saying I don’t have a genuine Windows software or something.
After a few minutes of searching online for a definite answer for how to fix it, I decide to just leave it and to call in my brother’s best mate.
He’s kinda like a genius when it comes to computers, he obviously knows more than me, so I had decided to ask him to help with the computer rather than trying to fix it myself, in fear of fucking it up even more.
I remember the next thing on the note Mary left me: Get some food.
So I pick up my car and front door keys from the key bowl near the front door and leave the house for a little while. I lock the front door, get into my crappy black car and make my way to the local supermarket. This car might not be flashy and sexy like my previous car, a black 2010 Tesla Roadster, but I’ve got a family, with family comes the need for more than two seats.
After a three minute drive, I get to the supermarket, lock my car doors and head straight for the baskets. I always got the baskets instead of the trolleys, I just never really expect to get much but always end up with more food than I can carry, so I just end up kicking the basket around on the floor as people stare at me ... fuck them, the bastard thing’s heavy!
After about twenty minutes of searching through the supermarket, I end up with a basket of pasties, cans of soup and beans, sausages, cornettos, some fruit, some cans of energy drink, a cake, a wrestling magazine, some beef, chicken and fish, chips, burgers, curly fries, milkshake, sausage rolls, chicken nuggets and some other bits and bobs of food.
As I balance the basket on the side of the fridge thing and pick up some veggie burgers, I’m approached by two familiar faces. It was mere coincidence that we would bump into eachother. The man turned me around, pushed me against the fridges and began to squeeze his hands tight around my neck, looking me dead in the eyes as he tips over my basket slightly in his anger. This ... was Drake Hunter, soon followed by his little girlfriend, Electra. I thought this shit was done with.
Drake Hunter
“You fucking piece of shit!”
Electra attempts to pull him away from me.
Electra
“Drake, please, don’t do this. Not in public.”
Drake Hunter
“Why not? This prick RUINED my life!”
Electra
“Please ...”
Drake Hunter
“Jordan, we were supposed to be friends. How could you do this to me!?!?”
I push him away.
Stytch
“I didn’t do ANYTHING to you, Drake.”
Drake Hunter
“No point lying, Jordan. I found the mask in your locker room. I KNOQ it’s you!”
Drake runs up to me and proceeds to jab me in the jaw, slamming my face into the fridges and continuing to attack me with a frenzy of punches and kicks. I didn’t fight back, I didn’t want to. He’s still my best friend, even if he’s going a little crazy. Sadly, I lost my temper and retaliated.
I knocked Drake down to the floor, hitting his head as he fell. Electra quickly dropped down to him and helped him up. They both stared at me, seemingly shocked I retaliated.
Stytch
“Drake, we’ve known each other years, you know I wouldn’t do this. I literally couldn’t be H4ck3r. I was there when he tried to steal your belt, I scared him away with the others. Also, if you have the paintball mask, how did I get another exaclty like it for your and H4ck3r’s before-CA words? Huh?”
Drake thinks for a minute as Electra helps him to his feet. He looks over to me and pulls a disgusted facial expression.
Drake Hunter
“... Fine. But when I unmask H4ck3r .... if it’s you under that mask ... I swear I’ll tell Mary everything.”
Stytch
“Everything?”
Drake Hunter
“Don’t fuck with me, I know you cheated on Mary a while back with your “protoge” whilst she was pregnant. If you are H4ck3r ... I’ll tell her.”
Stytch
“And if I’m not H4ck3r ... what then?”
Drake Hunter
“... Then you, me, Electra and Mary will go out, maybe bowling or something?”
I smile.
Stytch
“Sounds like a plan.”
We shake hands and part ways as I pick up my basket and sigh.
Stytch
“The insane wanker deserves everything that’s coming to him.”
I look over to my right to see an old granny staring at me and tutting. I casually explain the fight.
Stytch
"He ... uh ... he thinks I run around on rooftops drugging girls and taking them back to my lair."
The old woman walks off rather quickly ... I probably could have explained that a bit better ...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Scenes Of A Sexual Nature” By L. S. Hutchinson
Monday, 02:30 P.M.
As I made my way back into the house after about an hour of shopping for food, I opened the door and begun to take my shoppibg bags into the house, leaving them on one of the sofas for the time being. I go back and forth from the car to the house, to the house to the car until I had taken all the bags into the living room. I lock up the car and shut the door behind me as I re-re-re-re-re entered my house.
I began to empty the bags one item at a time, going into the open area kitchen and stocking the numerous cupboards full with what food I had gotten. I kept on doing this for about two minutes until I realised there were no more room in the cupboards, fridge and freezer. Damn. I decided to simply leave the food on the counter, Mary’ll put it somewhere. She’s good at fitting things in tight spaces ... if you know what I mean. Heh.
I decide to crank open a can of Monster energy and mix it with a bit of WKD and scotch. Yes, I drink now. I had been against drinking for about a year but I recently decided to enjoy life and drink a litte, no harm in a little alcahol here and there. I never drunk a lot, just mix some alcahol in with some energy drinks once or twice a week. No harm in it. It’s not like I ever get drunk from it.
I gulp down the mixed drink, most people wouldn’t like the mix but I loved it. Yay for alcohol!
As I threw the empty can into the bin, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. My first reaction was “fuck, I just say a ghost” but as it turns out, it was just my pet dog, Bess. I’d had her about five years now. She was a tiny ginger staffie with white fur on her paws, chest and the end of her tail. I loved her like a part of the family. She was originally my sister’s dog as a puppy but she didn’t want to look after her anymore, so it was either I have her or she got sold. I love my little bessie, which will only make it harder for me when she eventually dies. That’ll be a sad day for me indeed. But she’s perfectly healthy now and she’s got a good few years left in her. Everybody thinks staffs are bad and evil just because a few staffs killed and mauled some kids back in Britain, but that’s not the case. The worst Bess will ever do to you would be to lick you to death. She’s such a well trained dog, honestly the most lovely animals I’ve ever known.
I began to walk to the windows, as that was where Bess was barking at. I took a look outside and smiled. It was Mary coming back from her sister’s. No doubt they’ve been talking about wedding plans for Chloe’s wedding. See, Chloe proposed to DeWayne, one of my best friends, and he accepted. Now they’re getting married pretty soon and Chloe’s stressing out about everything. Mary obviously got fed up and had decided to come home early after dropping the kids off at my parents’ house and at school.
As soon as she got into the house, she came to find me and gave me a big sensual loving kiss, wrapping her arms around me as I held one hand on her butt and slid the other down her panties. I was taken offguard by the kiss but I obviously knew what to do by now.
She smirked as we stopped kissing. Taking out a letter from her pocket and passing it to me.
Mary
“Here, some guy gave this to me on my way out this morning. Didn’t have time to go back inside and leave it for you.”
I cock an eyebrow up.
Stytch
“Hmm, I don’t get paid today, I was already paid on the seventh ...”
I rip open the letter, instantly drawing my eyes to whoever sent it.
Stytch (reading)
“From Mister Johnny Clash ...”
There seems to be a stain inside the elvelope ... a brown one. I instantly threw the letter away.
Stytch
“That’s fucking disgusting.”
Mary
“What?”
Stytch
“Johnny crapped in a letter and sent it to me ...”
Mary’s facial expression changes from a look of wonder and curiosity to a look of disgust.
Mary
“I’m gonna wash my hands ...”
Mary walked over to the taps, running the cold water and washing her tiny little hands. I was “in the mood”, so I cockily walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She smiled as I spun her around and kissed her gently. She looks down at me - because I’m a bit shorter - and smiles.
Mary
“I’ll never get used to how weird it is that I have to lean down to kiss you.”
I laugh, continuing to make out with my wife as we made our way out of the open kitchen and up to the bedroom. We remove bits of clothes as we make our journey to the bedroom, such as my suit jacket, her scarfy thing that Ghost wears in COD, my trainers and socks, her wristbands, my wristbands, ring, suit vest and shirt and her necklace.
Boom-chika-wah-woaw
By this time, we’re right next to our bedroom with clothes lying around all over the house, the dog wondering what the fuck is going on as Mary locks our door and shuts the curtains. We didn’t want any snooty photo-journalists taking any nasty shots of us doing it only for it to end up on one of those porn sites *caugh* Tulisa *caugh*.
We continued to kiss as she removed her jeans, jacket and top, revealing a "rocking" pale body. I smiled as she looked me straight in the eyes, grabbed the wrists and placing them onto her breasts. This only made me smile more, even though I'm more a an ass person than a boob person.
We kiss one more as I remove my hands from her breasts and allow her to remove her bra, revealing the familiar perky bust. She laughed a little as she pulled down her panties and stood there completely naked, allowing me to take a good look at her body for a moment.
I still think “wow” everytime I see her naked. Can’t believe my fucking luck. I love my wife.
She kissed me once more as she made her way down to my jeans, removing the tight belt and helping me rip them off. She gets on her knees, looks up to me, making eye contact and smiling before whipping out my "manhood". She gives me another smile, soon giving "it" a good hard tug for about a minute or so before jumping into bed and striking a pose.
Mary
“My body is ready.”
We laugh at the internet meme reference as I climb into bed and I begin to kiss her all over, down from her lips to her neck, to her neck to her chest and from her chest down to her belly. She takes in a deep nervous breath as I make my way down to her “ginger forrest” and go crazy down there, something which I claim to have mastered over our marriage.
I continue doing this for a few minutes before I reamerge and wipe my lips. I didn’t like the taste but I didn’t care. I seemed to be good at it. Evertime I did that, she would respond with a series of moans, getting louder and louder. It was like fiddling with the sound dial on a stereo. I did it for the shits and giggles.
I lift her up and position her against the wall to the right of our bed. She wraps her arms and legs around me as we proceed to kiss and have wild passionate unprotected sex for the next thirty minutes. What? I take a while ... don't judge me.
Our journey into pleasure always ended the same way ... with Mary wiping her lips clean. This time we continued a little bit more but I wasn't really in the mood anymore. I was exhausted but I still managed to "finish" once again.
As soon as I had “finished up”, I roll off of her, naked with my arse in the air as she throws the duvet over us and turns to face me. We were both pretty tuckered out. We hadn’t “done the deed” in about a week, we tend to go wild if we hadn’t done it in a while. I smile to myself as I wipe the mixture of mine and Mary's sweat from my chest. Mary just leans on her hand and crawls her fingers over me.
Mary
“Wanna go another round?”
Stytch
“I would but I’m too exhausted.”
Mary
“Awrh, shame. I was gonna let you do that thing you like.”
Stytch
“You mean the thing with the tennis balls?”
Mary smiles.
Mary
“No ... guess again.”
Stytch
“The spiderman thing?”
Mary
“No.”
Stytch
“Ah, you mean the thing with the sellotape?”
Mary nods and laughs.
Stytch
“I’ll get the lube.”
I jump out of bed, pull on my boxer shorts and run to our locked “sex box” as we call it as Mary smirks and brushes back her hair.
Mary
“I fucking love that man.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“The Rage” By L. S. Hutchinson
Monday, 12:30 P.M.
Years ago when I first started my wrestling career, I used quite a few different names, alter egos and gimmicks. My first gimmick was that of a serious monsterous individual that came to be known as “RAGE” due to me often losing my temper and basically just annihilating whoever was unfortunate enough to be in the same ring as me. I only had a few matches before I ditched the name and everything else, soon joining NCW and becoming “The Frightmare" Stytch/Stitch. I’ve changed so much since then. Since that RAGEful time in my career. I’ve become childish, jokey, rather capable in the ring and a much better speaker. I was too serious back then, way too serious. I’m glad I ditched the name and the costume that came with it ... but for some reason ... here it is.
I had awoken from a quick nap and found a large suit bag hanging on the staircase railing. It was around midnight, so my wife and kids were fast sleep by then. I'm a night owl though, never sleep at midnight, more of a "sleep in the morning" kinda guy. Out of curiosity, I looked inside. What I found was the very same mask I had worn years ago under the RAGE name, acompanied by the very same wrestling gear I had worn all those years ago. The black arm pads, the black and red MMA gloves, the black and red jeans, black belt with the white skull belt buckle and the black wrestling boots with the red skull design on the boot. Even the big red skull mask with the hole in the top for the mohawk... it was all the real genuine costume I had thrown away years ago when I ditched this serious persona and started wrestling under the Stytch name.
It couldn’t be ... how ... wha- ... why is this here?
As I grasp onto the blood-coloured skull mask, I felt a warm senseation on my shoulder. A sensation that felt an awkful lot like a hand. It wasn’t Mary’s. I know what her hands feel like on my skin ... they don’t feel like this. Once more I feel a sensation on my shoulder, albeit the opposite one with a more gentle, smaller touch. Two people were behind me ... I feared the worst ... I was being robbed. I quickly and harsh span my head around to see who it was.
Stytch
“What ... what’re you doing here?”
To my surprise, my not-so-friendly unwanted house guests turned out to be none other than the mysterious masked “destroyer of worlds” himself, H4ck3r, accompanied by a masked female.
I hadn’t seen her before, she quite frankly gave me the creeps. After my question, I was replied with a mechanical explanation and an interresting offering from H4ck3r.
H4ck3r
“Good day, Mister Sonispier. You’ll have to excuse our intrusion but I have a rather compelling offer for you, my good sir.”
Stytch
“What?”
H4ck3r
“Hmm ... let me speak down to you in a language that you can clearly understand.”
H4ck3r thinks for a moment.
H4ck3r
“You do something for me, I do something for you.”
My first reply is a joke.
Stytch
“Sorry, mate. I’m not into that kinda shit.”
I told you I became childish and jokey, even if the jokes are shit.
H4ck3r
“Hmm. Here’s the offer. Me and my ... associate ... will help you win the NYCCW world heavyweight championship ... if you help me defeat the vile Drake Hunter.”
Stytch
“And what’s the RAGE attire for?”
H4ck3r
“You were a lot more serious and aggressive when you wore that costume. You need to focus of getting into that persona, the costume will help. If you’re ever going to beat Johnny, Apostle Kried AND Rye Payne ... then you need to let out the RAGE, let out all the anger you hold so deep inside. LET IT OUT!”
I look on at H4ck3r, my head slowly turning down to the costume in my hands as I find myself gripping tight onto it. I look back up again, stand up and begin my reply to his offer.
Stytch
“How fucking dare you.”
I throw the RAGE costume into H4ck3r’s arms.
Stytch
“I’m a one time NCW Extreme champion, one time NCW Dungeon champion, one time NCW Blood and Beer champion, two time NCW tag team champion with Chris Storm, two time NCW Television champion, two time NCW North American champion, a three time NCW world heavyweight champion, a one time EAW tag team champion, a two time EAW television champion, a one time EAW extreme champion, a one time XWO tag team champion, a one time NWD tag team champion and the CURRENT NYCCW tag team champion. So FUCK you and your sad little fantasies. I’m not gonna just throw away everything I’ve accomplished both inside the ring and outside the ring just to win a stupid fucking title that’s already ruined by some suit-wearing slut-bumming old-man-fucking pukestain of champion. FUCK YOU you fucking abolute cumfaced wanker. PISS OFF!”
I throw H4ck3r and his masked female friend out of my house. I had no respect for the man or his companion, they’re both a pair of cunts as far as I’m concerned. I attempt to shut the door but H4ck3r jams his foot in the way, we talk through the few centimeter long gap in the door.
H4ck3r
“See, you’re already letting out your anger.”
H4ck3r passed me the rage mask.
H4ck3r
“Keep it.”
He then left, seeming to vanish into the darkness, the only evidence of his presence in the shadows being the lights that seemed to eluminate from the female’s gas mask, shining up on his attire.
I stared at them for a moment before taking a gander at the mask, staring into the dark meshed eye holes and smirking.
Stytch
“Maybe H4ck3r was right ... maybe I do need to let out the rage ...”
I turn around the mask so that the back is facing me, continuing to steadily pull the mask tight over my face and find myself smirking at how good it felt to be wearing this again. Even though the mask felt amazing, like a drug pumping through my veins, I had to quit it. I began having thoughts, dark thoughts, like I used to. Violent thoughts. At that moment I tore the mask off and threw it to the floor, actually finding myself scared of it.
I don’t know whether it was the mask reminding me of who I was or whether this mask just radiates evil ... but all the same, I don’t want it. I don’t want to wear it, I don’t want it in my house, I don’t want it near my family and I certainly don’t want to change. I’m fine the way I am. I don’t need to be all serious and dark and adult ... I’m fine being a rich eccentric slightly greying twenty five year old childish guy who just so happends to be married, a father of four and one of the best wrestlers in NYCCW. I’m fine with that. I don’t want to go back to the way I was. I can’t.
I’m sick of losing though. I’m sick of trying so hard to win something just to fail miserably. This time I’m not going to fail. I WILL NOT fail.
Punch me, I’ll punch back twice as hard. Kick me, I’ll kick you back twice as hard. Knock me out, I’ll get back up. Pin me, I’ll kick out. Try to put a submission on me, I’ll fight with every essence of my being to get out of it. Try to escape the cage, I’ll drag you right back in. I’m not going to lose.
Not anymore.
At Caged Aggression I face the world heavyweight champion Johnny Clash, the undefeated Apostle Kried and the luckiest rookie alive, Rye Payne. When all is said and done, I’ll be running out of that cage, into the fans and screaming at the top of my lungs as I hold that world heavyweight championship above my head, proud of my accomplishments just moments before. Defeating Johnny Clash, the so called best in NYCCW, becoming the man that broke Apostle Kried’s undefeated streak and having brutally beaten up a man I have never gotten along with, Rye Payne.
At Caged Aggression, I’ll walk out the NEW NYCCW world heavyweight champion BY MYSELF, head held high, wrist still wrapped in a cast, knee supporter wrapped around my knee and the world heavyweight championship strapped across my waist.
I.
WILL.
NOT.
FAIL.
