[BearFic] “Insert Dirty Title Here” (Stephen Lee)

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[The following screenshots of Stephen Lee are from Robocop 2.  Yes, this is a BearFic.  And, yes, it is very pathetic.  But the photos look so lonely by themselves that I just gotta do a bit of an ad-libbed fiction…]

Stephen Lee bearfic

Insert Dirty Title Here
-Stephen Lee BearFic-

Okay, so I’m a dirty cop.  Sue me.  Find me a clean one, and I’ll know yer lyin’.  Ain’t no clean cops around here no more.  Even the laundromats use coke as detergents in this forsaken city.

StephenLee013

And so what if I shoot concentrated Seduction7?  Got nothing to be happy for in this goddamn hellhole.  Plus, everyone’s doing it.  And it don’t matter that I’m wearing a pig uniform.  I always get the best seat in the strip joints.  Not to mention unlimited lap dances.  Just one of them perks but it’s nothing compared to the shit that goes on in this town.

StephenLee001

You know how bad this city’s become?  Listen, we gots robots doing our jobs for us.  You believe that?  Robots.  I don’t know who’s crazier — me or the loony dumbasses who thought this one up.  These robots…  I don’t like ’em.  They really fucking do their jobs……

StephenLee006

I was just at the arcades playing “Ikari Warriors” ™ when one of them freaking robot grabbed my neck.  He saw me buy some S7 from some punk kid of this district’s local gang.  Shoulda been more careful.  They got them supersonic vision shit.  Shit!

StephenLee059

Sonovabitch.  Damn freak almost cracked my ribcage.  Whoever the hell programmed this bastard is one sick fuck.  I feel like some lardass elephant sat on my chest.

StephenLee018“You are under arrest, Officer Dante.  Where are the drugs and who is the drug dealer?  Cooperation is your only option.”

What did he think?  I’m gonna tell him?  I know my rights, I — oof!…..

“Okay okay okay…..  Lester Freeman.  I got the drugs from Lester Freeman.  Freaking drugs behind that “Ikari Warriors” ™.  Thought you got some superhuman vision assho — OW!”

Damn metalhead’s gonna kill me.  And, aw. shit, Lester’s goons gonna get me too…..

It’s funny how the pigs get a handful of free passes from these robots.  Either the slammer’s filled or they’re running out of recruits.  For God’s sakes, that’s the least of my worries.  I’m a dead man.

StephenLee041

Well, it’s gotta end sooner or later.  So here I am in some cliched deserted building.  I remember being gagged while I was on my way to the hospital.  I knew it was Lester’s goons…..

StephenLee061

Ironic that on my final moments, I’m wrapped around with clean sheets.  Jezus, clean freakin’ sheets.  Guess I deserve this.

StephenLee063

I just hope that this goofy doc’s scalpel does its job freaking quick…..

StephenLee073

* * * * *

“…and in other news, notorious gang leader, Lester Freeman, was found dead four days ago from lethal poisoning.  Sources are unclear as to how Freeman and thirty-three other people, currently being associated with Freeman’s Double Dragon Gang, died from what forensics have been referring to a ‘mysterious airborne toxin.’  Channel 1990 will keep you up-to-date with any latest update on this news as it unfolds…  Now here’s a word from our sponsor…

‘Are you sick and tired of drinking your favorite soda with a straw?  Are you sick and tired of lifting your frosty caffeinated beverage with your hand?  Relax and worry no longer!  Discover the Inject-A-Drink ™!  One needle to your tongue and you’ll experience long-lasting paradise with any concentrated drink of your choice…”

Jesus, so Lester’s human after all.  Good night, sweet prick.

StephenLee005

Well, not a big loss anyway.  There are more rival gangs here than I could care to count.  Ah, speaking of which, time to enjoy some of this sweet, sweet S7, thanks to that Brazilian bonehead, Reinaldo.

Shirtless Bear With A Beeper Holding A Beer

3

shirtless-bear-with-beer-and-beeperGot this photo sometime in 2000 and not sure who he is…

This is quite possibly my most uncreative post title ever.  And with that, here’s a haiku in seven parts…

Big bear is shirtless
Beeper, beer, tattoos, and fur
Ejaculation

One-fourth of man’s head
Ruining this perfect pic
Can’t even get head

Shirtless, goateed bear
Staring at man’s one-fourth head
Says “No” to BJ

Arm with bear tattoos
A gecko crawls on his chest
Kneeling man, blue balls

Why can’t I get head
Snakeskin belt too tight, bear said
I kick his balls… missed!

Big bear removes belt
One-fourth head and blue balls smiles
Gets beat down instead

Beeper beeps and beeps
“Having fun with your blind date?”
Holymotherfu–

[BearFic] A Good Bear Is Hard To Find

1

[I haven’t written a BearFic in quite a while.  So, I decided to randomly mix up a couple of photos I’ve collected from my online journeys as well as photos from Renaissance Faires I had attended and create some semblance of story out of them.  Even if my story gets a thumbs down, I hope that I will have made it up by posting these loverly bearish images for your viewing pleasure…]

A Good Bear Is Hard To Find
-Random BearFic-

I’m not quite sure what day it is, nor month, nor even year.  All I know is that my head hurts like a mother and I seem to be in some sort of outdoor circus.  It’s a lovely day, that’s for sure, where I could taste the hickory flavor of burnt barbecues and get drunk from various mixtures of liquor and beer.  More than likely, I’m drunk and I just do not know it.

renaissance-faire-bear-01

A stocky and grizzly man stops me in my tracks.  “Halt!” he orders, while I stare at his golden brown locks.  “Join me in our festivities, young man and aid me in drowning my sorrows over a good cup of mead!”

Sure, why not? I tell myself.  I enter his tent and I watch him wrestle with his drunken self as he tries to sit cross-legged on the ground.  I assist him as I smell his sweat from wearing such ridiculous clothing that appears to be five layers thick.

“My liege,” (for I’m not quite sure what to call him) “methinks you should rest easy and remove thy pesky robes for it is hot and the tent is oh so cool.”  I believe I giggled.

He then falls on his back, spilling his mead all over his robe.  In an instant, he begins snoring.

I am tempted to disrobe him as I am painfully curious to see what was hidden beneath that heft.

But I decide against it and remove my shirt instead to clean the beautiful grizzly bear up.

And as I leave the tent and turn around, I see him completely naked and only completely dressed by his natural thick fur.  He walks up to me and gently kisses me on my right cheek.

“Thank you,” he says as he slowly disappears within a haze of smoke.

“That’s a bit strange,” I tell myself.  “Probably some sort of trick.”

renaissance-faire-bear-02

While walking out, a younger man of spectacular girth meets me.  “Fancy sparring with me?”

Sure, why not? I tell myself.  He gives me a pole with protective foams on both ends.  I believe I giggled.

Now, being twice as light as the young bear, I am quicker on my feet.  I hit him on his belly multiple times but I do not hit as hard.  He realizes this as he yells, “Harder, lad, harder!  Hit me with all of your might!”

I listen to him until he falls on his back.  The crowd around me screams for blood while the warrior bear lies helpless on the ground.

Again, my sex throbs in pain.  How I want to just dominate the large man and tear his costume apart.

But I decide against it and remove my pants so that I, too, am humiliated from the fight.

And as I walk away, equally beaten and shamed, I see him completely naked and only completely dressed by his natural thick fur.  He walks up to me and kisses me on my left cheek.

“Thank you,” he says as he slowly disappears within a haze of smoke.

“I must learn that clever trick,” I tell myself.

renaissance-faire-bear-03

Shirtless and pantless, I see a husky man entertaining the public with a toy catapult.  It costs 1 gold to play but as I have left my pants somewhere, I do not have any funds.

The husky bear calls me and offers that I play the game for free.  “There is a catch, though.” he says.  “You must completely soak me with these water balloons first.  It’s fairly easy as I will be standing about three feet away from you.  If you don’t hit me at least once, you will owe me a hundred gold.”

Sure, why not? I tell myself.  He gives me 100 water balloons.  I believe I giggled.

He then stands approximately three feet away from me as he extends his arms and legs apart.  “You may commence.”

I do commence but I do not hit him.  Instead, I drench the Gentle Ladies of Camelot, the Mosaic Bards of the Common West, and the Lost Tribes of Myceria.

And as I kneel in front of him to offer my service of servitude for I do not have a single gold, I see him completely naked and only completely dressed by his natural thick fur.  He walks up to me and kisses me on my lips.

“Thank you,” he says as he slowly disappears within a haze of smoke.

“This is getting stranger by the minute,” I tell myself.

classic-strongman

As I walk through the grassy knolls, a large bald man blocks my way.

“Am I too good for you?” he asks me demandingly.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“See these biceps?  Are they not to your liking?  See the fur on my chest?  Are they not furry enough?”

And the more I look at him as he flexes his muscles, I notice that he resembles the drunken grizzly bear.

bear-at-parade

My head aches even further so I run away until I can not run any further.

In my way is a mob of large men of varying sizes.  One, in particular, catches my eye.

He then sees me as he pushes away through the throng of bearish men.

“Am I too good for you?” he asks me demandingly.

“Are you ashamed of me?  Do I frighten you among these other people?”

And the more I look at him, I notice that he resembles the bear warrior.

bear-at-carnival

I refuse to answer his questions so I run away, my head hurting even more.

I then hit a large man who’s purchasing some drinks.  I cannot help but stare and admire his beautiful build.

“Why do you resist?  Why can’t you accept who you are?”

And the more I look at him, I notice that he resembles the husky bear with the catapult.

punch-belly

With my mind reeling, I run away.  I run until the moon is within my view.  All I see is darkness except for a small dot of light in the distance.

I walk towards it and see a lone arcade machine where a parody of a large and brutish man stands waiting to be punched in the belly.

I tear up, not knowing why, and proceed to punch it on the belly.

I punch and punch and punch until my fists are red.  And I punch some more until I briefly see this image:

wrestler-fever

* * * * *

“Hey there, wake up.”

I wake up shivering and soaking from sweat.  I look around me and it appears that I seem to be in some kind of hospital tent.

“Are you feeling better?” a nurse asks me.

“Yes.  Just had the weirdest dream.”

“No stomach pains?”

“No.”

“Good.  Good.  Here, drink some water.”

I drink the water and it refreshes me.  As my vision clears up, I notice that there are many female nurses in the tent.  Many.  Way too many.

They are whispering at each other while they stare at me.  I only hear bits and pieces, such as “He’ll do” and “I should go first” and “I hope we bear boys.”

I realize what’s going on.  What a cruel joke this is.  I call my nurse and request for a larger female first.

Also, a blindfold.

BearComicSlashFic (aka When A Blogger Ran Out Of Ideas)

1

I’m a big fan of bizarre and offbeat humor.  My favorite is/was The Perry Bible Fellowship (unfortunately the website’s gone now); however, a suitable replacement is the clever Married To The Sea and Superpoop which are created by a married couple, Drew and Natalie Dee.

One of my secret dreams is to be a cartoonist.  Unfortunately, I can’t even draw a straight line.  In the meantime, let’s do a little bit of metahumor by combining some Married To The Sea/Superpoop comics/photos with my collection of bearish/chubby screenshots/photos.  Did you get a headache/rolly-eyes yet with all of that forward slashes?  I hope you did and I’m calling this type of subgenre of BearFic as a BearComicSlashFic.  -_^

raywinstone-df-c13-0011

* * * * * * * * * *

time-bandits-blockbuster

* * * * * * * * * *

Like I said, I have a “very different” type of humor.  As I was inspired by Drew and Natalie Dee’s creations, here’s my attempt…  Please be nice.  😛

hercules-and-the-cherubs

[BearFic] The Statue Of Demuul (Mongolian Wrestler)

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[The following screenshots of the Statue of Demuul is from Marlboroma1n’s Flickr Page.  I love the photos so much that I’ve written a BearFic out of it.  Wait for it…  LOL.]

From Just Marc’s Flickr Page

The Statue Of Demuul
-Demuul BearFic-

I’ve always done crazy things.  I once thought that I could defy gravity and broke my right thumb while rolling down Nayramadin Peak when I was but a child.  Another time, I thought that I could sense moving objects while my eyes remained closed while crossing the busy streets of Ulaanbaatar.  I thought I was fearless, but my mother always reminded me that I was simply crazy like my father.  My father left my mother while I was in my youth.  She had never said it, but I knew that she blamed me for it.  Maybe I do blame myself which was why I did the things I did.  I wanted to know why I was alive.  Or maybe because I wanted to be with my father, wherever he was.

But I knew that I was really crazy when the Statue of Demuul spoke to me.

“Thank you,” it said.

I thought it was Batukhan playing another silly prank.  I always wondered if he knew that I would always pass a secretive glance at the beautiful Statue of Demuul.  I circled the statue and did not find Batukhan.

“Up here,” it said.

I faced the statue and it looked exactly like it had always been.  Solid, firm, and strong.  I could not stop gazing at its wide and bulky chest.

“I want to thank you, Bataar.”

“Thank me, for what?” I foolishly responded, trying to stop from laughing.

“For loving me.”

It suddenly did not become a joke.  I would find this joker and beat the living daylights out of him.

“You’re the only one who notices me.  I have sat here through decades and no one has looked at me the way you do.”

Not only was this strange, but I was even more angered at someone knowing about my deepest secrets.  I started to run away.

“Bataar!  Please!  Come back!”

There was something in its voice that prompted me to stop.  Its voice was very familiar.  it was the same aching voice I hear in my heart when I think of finding my father.

I was crazy anyway, I told myself, and returned to the statue.

“What exactly do you want me to say?” I asked.

“Through the long winters I was covered in ice but did not know what the cold felt like.  And in the short summers, I saw the sun, yet never knew the warmth of its beams.  But, Bataar, every time I saw you pass by, you would look at me and I would feel either coldness or warmth.  I could even hear the rustle of the distant trees and songs of the little birds nested within.  You have given me a gift.  And I want to thank you.”

I took it all in, as though I was talking to a real person.  There was an honesty to what it said and I could not help but feel sympathetic.

“But how can you be, well, alive?  You are a Khunbish.  You are not human!”

“I may not be human, but your love has given me life.”

“I am either insane or truly insane.”

“Perhaps.  But is it truly a bad thing?”

I proudly showed it my fractured thumb and the scar on my left hip that I got from a swerving motorcycle while crossing the streets of Ulaanbaatar with my eyes closed.  “Yes.  Yes, it is.”

The statue laughed and said, “I was actually there when they happened.  Look at my right thumb and left hip.”

I stared dumbfounded at its fractured thumb and scar.  “This cannot be real.”

“I never believed it myself.  I just know that you have given me life, and I want to thank you.”

“This is unfair.  What exactly do I do now?”  Suddenly, I now have that aching voice.

“There is always purpose, Bataar.  I now know why I am alive.”

I stared at its unmoving lips, waiting for it to explain.

“I am your pain vessel.  I store your pains.”

“That does not make any sense,” I replied.

“I am not sure of it myself.  I just know that that is my purpose.  Please.  Look into my eyes.”

I looked at its eyes and I felt an electrical surge going through my body, except that it did not hurt at all.  I saw a bright light and I thought that I saw my father.

“Look at your thumb.  It’s not fractured any longer.”  I looked at my thumb and it was indeed healed.  “Look at your scar and you will not find it.”  I did and was amazed at it being gone.  “Do not worry, my little Bataar.  I will protect you from all your pains…”

* * * * *

The doctor walked inside Room 405 and found the mother crying besides her son’s hospital bed.

“Doctor, will my son be okay?”

“Your son has suffered through a severe head concussion and he will be unconscious for quite some time.  The x-rays and police report have indeed verified that he was beaten multiple times on the head and was possibly thrown down a flight of stairs.  Mrs. Ali, you may want to talk to the police outside.  They need to know where your husband might be.”

A nurse assisted Mrs. Ali as they left Room 405.

What the doctor did not tell Mrs. Ali was that her son, Bataar, had only a few hours to live.  The doctor had learned to lie during traumatic moments such as these as honesty was sometimes a bitter pill to swallow.  A gust of wind then opened the windows as the doctor walked over to close them.  And as he closed the windows, he saw the mighty Statue of Demuul from a distance.

[BearFic] “Just Another Bad Day” (Unknown)

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[The following photos of this “daddy bear” were shared from the Brotherhood Of Bears Yahoo Group.  I have no idea who he is though.  However, he is definitely such a woofy material that I was inspired to write a story about him…]

Just Another Bad Day
-Unknown BearFic-

It was a long day at work today.  My boss told me that he’d be taking half of my paycheck this week to pay for the damaged door of my cab.  What the hell.  It’s not my fault my passenger was a tweaked out birdie who decided to kick the door wide open while I was driving 50 down Harrison.  Lucky it’s not your whole pathetic check.  Guess how much our insurance is gonna cough up for that Porsche you totaled?

Whatever.  I just wanted to go home, down a brewski, and watch some infomercials until I jacked myself off to sleep.  Yeah, sounded like a good plan.

However, I noticed that my door was partly open and that just completely pissed me off.  If there was someone inside, that sucker’s gonna know pain.

I peeked in and saw a big, hairy brute of a man who was only wearing tight blue underwear.  This housebreaker and thief was tying up a big box which was probably my useless junk.  Upon seeing his massive, sweaty body, I did not know if I was gonna get angry or excited.  Suddenly, both conflicting emotions took the best of me and I quickly rushed through the door, completely shocking the big man.  To my surprise, I managed to tackle him to the floor.

My right cheek felt his thick and furry belly while I smelled his manly scent.  He was completely lying on the floor with his arms outstretched.  I planted both my hands on both of his burly shoulders while I pushed myself up.

“Don’t you say a fucking word,” I commanded.  The daddy bear had no fear in him as he stared at me while I felt his heaving stomach on my crotch.

“Good.  You know, I’m sick and tired of getting pushed around.  There is no such thing as karma.”  I thought that last line was a good touch.  And with that, I grabbed his packing rope while I went behind the big man.  I placed my right knee on his back while I tightly tied his wrists.

When I knew that my knot was completely secured, I stood up and walked in front of him.  I felt a tinge of satisfaction seeing such a big man completely helpless and under my mercy.  His legs were spread apart and I could see his bulge in that skimpy underwear.  What a beautiful daddy, I thought to myself.

At that point, I wasn’t quite sure what to do.  I really did not want to call the pigs on him.  Probably just another junkie or some homeless dude and I did have a heart.  You know what?  I got no plans for the evening anyway. And with that, I noticed that there were quite a few more ropes left.

I helped the big bear to his feet as my forearms squeezed between his massive arms and chest.  He tried to resist but he knew that he could not do much.  I then pushed him to the table and he landed on his gut as he made a loud “Oof!”  Yeah, daddy, ‘woof’ indeed.

I then proceeded to tie his legs to his wrists.  Just like a luau. When I finished, I sat on the floor while I admired my work of art.  This was gonna be my entertainment for tonight and I was going to let him go in a few minutes.  Hell, I’m even gonna help him pack my junk.  Good riddance to them.

I then heard nervous mutterings of a Russian lady behind me.  It was definitely my neighbor, dear old Mrs. Sokolov.  I guess I’d better explain to her what’s happening.

“What did you do to my son, Oleg?”

I then looked around me and realized that it was not even my apartment.  Shit.  I guess it’s just another bad day.  I looked behind me and I noticed Oleg giving me a sly wink.

Or maybe it’s not such a bad day after all.

[Related Posts]

[BearFic] “Matevs & Katja” (Michael Gottli)

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[The following screenshots are of Michael Gottli from a film titled Tales From The Gimli Hospital. The accompanying fiction in this post is not from the film but from my bear-filled brain…  It is also a crossover-BearFic (lol) mentioned in the Primoz Petkovsek BearFic, “War & Sex.”]

Matevs & Katja
-Michael Gottli BearFic-

It happened during a time of wars and hate.  Some said it was a curse from the gods.  Others said that it was the beginning of the end of mankind’s reign on earth.  While a handful few knew what it was about and even knew what had caused it.  But they were all either dead, gone, or might as well be dead.  For knowing the truth would not prevent the inevitable.  But as all things came to pass, myths and legends arose.  They are far more interesting than the reality of such events.  So in spite of the darkness and madness, there was once such a story of love and hope.  It is the tale of handsome Matevs and beautiful Katja.

Matevs was a soldier.  He was the remaining soldier of Unit 859.  Henrik and he were the sole survivors of The Problem.  But Henrik found a woman begging for water in the shores of Golfo di Trieste.  Henrik, a good-hearted man, approached her and stayed a good distance away from her as he poured water on her parched lips.  The woman, grateful for such kindness, touched Henrik’s hand.  That was the last time Matevs saw Henrik.

Matevs had heard of an outpost where The Problem had not affected its community.  They called it “The Crossroads.”  It was a tall tale to keep the soldiers going, to keep them fighting an enemy they could never defeat.  Matevs was the only one who believed in it.  He longed for a woman’s touch and he knew that he will find this in The Crossroads.

So Matevs traveled on.  He barely slept as he did not want to come across The Women, both dead and living.  For months he trekked through valleys and fields, enduring the stench of human and animal decay.

* * * * *

Matevs woke up in what looked like a makeshift hospital room.  He did not remember what happened to him.  Perhaps he had fainted from the heat or hunger.  But who had brought him here?

As he wondered, he remembered having a vivid dream of an angelic woman helping him walk inside The Crossroads.  She was very beautiful and she took great care of him.  She cleaned his wounds and relieved his hungry stomach.  And she was able to touch him.

Matevs heard someone walk in his room.  To his surprise, it was the woman in his dreams.  Could it not be a dream?

Matevs demanded to know her name.  “I am, Katja,” she said.  She then looked at him and explained to Matevs that she found him lying near the river.  She and her fellow nurses brought him in to their hospice.  She called it “The Crossroads.”

“You have been resting for a good three weeks, my soldier,” Katja said.  “I’m glad to have seen you finally awake.  Now I can tell you stories and you can actually listen to them.”

Matevs could not believe his eyes.  A woman.  She had touched me and I lived.

Matevs begged her to touch him.  Katja then said, “I have touched you everyday and I long more than to touch you.  I want to feel your love.  I want to be part of you.”

With no doubts and no fear, Matevs and Katja exchanged a love that would echo through the end of human time.

My dear friends, that was the tale of “Matevs & Katja.”  It became a song for the soldiers after them.  They became the symbol of hope and of survival.

But like most things, myths are only just that: lies.

This is the true story of Matevs & Katja…

“I do not want to die,” Matevs pleaded.  “I don’t understand why you are able to touch me.”

“My soldier, let me show you why.”  Katja removed her gown and Matevs realized the truth.

“I did not mean to deceive you.  You were in pain and you needed medicine and care.”

Matevs stared at Katja with disgust.  An abomination.

Katja felt Matevs’ anger and humiliation.  But she longed for a man’s touch and she was willing to die for such a fleeting moment of affection.

And as the two embraced, Matevs plunged his knife on Katja’s belly.  Katja whispered to Matevs, “I forgive you.”

It was at that moment that Matevs realized what he had done.  All he could think of was that he had done a great deed.  I am still a soldier.  It had to be done.

And that, my dear friends, was how the real story ended.

[Related Posts – Primoz Petkovsek]

[BearBeat/Fic/Pit] JerBearMaine: When Fantasy And Reality Collide

2

It actually took me a full whole day to recuperate from JerBear‘s post about asking me if I would like to be in his wrestling videos.   Not only would that be a dream come true, but it will probably be the cause of my heart attack (or as I told JerBear, “hard attack” — er, um, “lol”?).

Honestly, I’m just not sure how to react when the very bears I lust over for actually respond to me.  My brain just can’t seem to calculate and analyze such repercussions.  But I am so glad that JerBear is so down-to-earth and such an all-around very nice bear and man that it makes talking to him all the much easier.

I’ve decided to share my “fantasy wrestling fiction” that I’ve sent to my Fantasy Idol.  And with it are pictorials of the ever woofy and sexy wrestling bear stud god, JerBear…

* * * * * * * * * *

The Twink Versus JerBear
-JerBearMaine BearFic-

The Twink shows up in the ring, excited at the upcoming match.  JerBear, who’s only wearing black wrestling briefs and revealing his sexy belly, walks in the ring with an extremely cocky demeanor.  He looks at the camera and flexes his oiled-up muscles.  Sweat and oil co-mingle as they roll down his glistening bearish physique.

JerBear has a few choice words against his twink opponent, and as he does so, he flexes his muscles at him.  The Twink responds by kicking JerBear multiple times on his belly.  JerBear “oofs” and “aahs” from the barrage of kicks.  He ends up trapped in the corner of the ring with his arms resting on the top ropes while The Twink unleashes a barrage of gut punches.  JerBear endures the punishment while his moans of pains grow into a hypnotic crescendo.

The Twink then ceases his gut-punching, while the weakened JerBear continues to hang and rest on the ring corner, his glistening sweat’s even more pronounced than ever.  The Twink then flexes in front of JerBear, mocking his massive opponent, kneels down then unleashes a flurry of rapid gut punches.  JerBear’s legs react as though he was sprinting, while we see his gut quickly jiggle from the furious punching.  The Twink tires out as he kneels down then lays his exhausted head on the weakened and tired belly of JerBear.  The Twink’s head moves in tandem with JerBear’s heaving, breathing stomach.

The Twink slowly climbs up the seemingly-defeated mountainous body of JerBear.  The Twink then puts his left hand on JerBear’s left chest then begins to use his right fist to gutpunch him.  The punches are lazier and slower, as The Twink was on the brink of complete exhaustion.  JerBear attempts to escape by moving his hips forward only to be brought back down by a slow and hard punch on the gut — which happens multiple times.

The Twink realizes that despite his unceasing attacks, JerBear appears to have some strength left. So he decides to kneel down again and headbutts JerBear on the groin.  JerBear moans in complete agony as he holds on to his groin while he slowly walks to the middle of the ring.  The Twink laughs then pushes JerBear from behind.  JerBear falls in the center ring, still holding on to his manhood, groaning in pain.  The Twink watches JerBear in glee as he circles his fallen opponent.  He then puts his right foot on JerBear’s belly.  JerBear could not even try to remove this smaller man’s foot away.  The Twink then steps from JerBear’s one side to the other side.  A loud “OOF!” comes out from JerBear’s mouth.  The Twink then does it again and again, stepping and moving from left to right and right to left, all the while mocking and laughing at him.  At this point, JerBear is just lying on the ring with his arms outstretched, his big belly heaving from exhaustion.

The Twink then stands between JerBear’s legs, kicking them in opposite directions so that he has enough room to kneel between them.  He starts to toy with JerBear’s crotch by massaging it at first then pretending to punch them repeatedly.  JerBear can barely move and the only movement he can make was occasionally lifting his head to see what’s going on.  The Twink then makes a disgusted look at the unresponsive JerBear. He then grabs both legs with each hand, lifts them up, and starts to threat JerBear with stomping on his groin.

JerBear, realizing what was at stake, lifts his arms out and starts to plead with his attacker.  “No, no, no, no, no,” he begs.  The Twink just smiles then unmercilessly stomps on JerBear’s gut repeatedly. The helpless JerBear cannot do anything else but respond in kind to each and every successive stomp.  As for The Twink’s finale, he lands a long stomp on JerBear’s big gut.  The Twink then smiles devilishly at JerBear, lifts up his right foot then land it on JerBear’s balls.  JerBear’s body reacts with his outstretched arms and shoulders going up about two inches from the mat while his face contorts from the sudden pain on his groin.  The Twink lets go of JerBear’s legs but they continue to stay up.  It’s as if a photo has been taken as the image of The Twink stepping on JerBear’s crotch has been frozen in time.

The Twink then steps in deeper on JerBear’s balls, weakening JerBear and finally making his body relax and dropping his full body on to the mat.  A resounding thud is heard as JerBear’s shoulders, arms, and legs fall.  The Twink, satisfied with his job of dominating this big bear of a man, sits on JerBear’s stomach, while his two thighs wrap around JerBear’s sweaty, heaving belly. The Twink begins to alternately punch JerBear’s left and right chest as he mocks his easily fallen opponent. The Twink then puts both of his palms on JerBear’s beefy chest and begins the count.

1…2…

* * * * * * * * * *

Well, okay, so my story does not really end.  But, really, would you want it to end?

And, also, for the record.  I tend to not imagine myself as the “beater of bears.”  I tend to be on the sidelines looking in.  I just don’t see myself even pretending to wrestle with a bearish man.  I’d definitely let him manhandle me though.  Lol.  The perfect death, I guess.  Anyway, I’d much rather hug and enjoy his body than beat it up (fantasy-wise, of course).  Still, I can’t deny the fact that seeing luscious bear men like JerBear getting dominated is definitely erotic and arousing.

Lol.  Will I one day be in his video?  I would love to, yet I’m nervous and scared at the same time.  Let’s see what happens.  -_^

[Related Posts]

[BearWTF?] BearMythology Tags Explained By Jim Greenleaf

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… [BearPit] … [BearBeat] … [BearFic] …

Now that I’ve finally written a Bear Fan Fiction, I can finally explain why I have certain posts with literal tags.  Those three [tags] are a bit more “special” to me as they relate to my intense fetishes and interests.  Though this is a personal blog, I still want to discuss my fetishes to a minimum.  BearMythology is first and foremost a celebration of bearish men — regardless of who and what they are.

Posts will be tasteful (subjective, of course) and non-explicit.  I want this to be read by those who are like me, and especially those who are just beginning to discover the strange and wonderful mystery of their unwavering attractions to our bearish kin.  You are not alone.  And being gay and being attracted to bears do not necessarily mean that you are always craving for sex and in a constant state of thinking “dirty thoughts.”  We love who we love and our attractions to them should be paid in kind with respect and dignity.  Yes, you can be as crass and as horny as you want, just as long as you know that there is also a time when you have to take a step back and realize that the god-like beings we worship are still human beings just like us…

That’s my personal belief that I try to impart; hopefully, they show up every time I post about a bearish man in this blog.

But here’s the rub.

As I have those three main [tags], I will be contradicting my personal belief.  Before I explain further, let me interject with a collage of Jim Greenleaf from a movie called — wait for it — Tag: The Assassination Game.

 jimgreenleaf001.jpg

[BearPit] – Armpits.  That’s it.  I still have no clue why I am so obssessed over a big man’s armpits.  The thing is, I feel that I am violating a bearish man’s dignity by posting photos/videos/stories about their armpits.  Maybe I’m just referring to the heterosexual bears.  Either way, I just feel awkward when I talk about this.  To me, it’s like discussing that same bearish man’s no-no body part — you know, the one between the knees?  <wink>

[BearBeat] – I may be overreacting over the armpits fetish; however, this one is different.  Seeing a big bear gets punched in the gut, busted in the groin area, and gets completely dominated are very “erotic” to me.  However, I’m not talking about actual physical pain.  I’m more referring to a role-playing type (which is why pro-wrestling and movies/television are my good friends).  Still, how can I talk about “respect” when I get excited seeing them get kicked on the gonads?  <blush>

[BearFic] – Well, if anything, writing geeky, semi-erotic fan fiction is often an insult in itself.  (I’m sure if the actor Joey Oglesby read through my fan fiction, he’ll be a bit disturbed.)  <that’s pretty much all I can say on that topic!>

So there you have it.  Consider my [tags] as a warning where I delve into non-respectful and explicit posts — a complete antithesis of my whole BearMythology philosophy.