Brian2012

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Chapter 1. Unleashing the Beast

As someone who finds college wrestlers sexy, I have spent a lot of time trying to understand what it is that draws me to them. At first glance, it might seem like a strange fascination. After all, why would someone be turned on by a group of young men dressed in wrestling singlets?



To me, the answer is fairly simple: it's all about the physicality. There is something incredibly attractive about a man who is able to take control of his body and use it to compete in a physical sport. College wrestlers are some of the most impressive physical specimens you will ever see - their muscles are toned and defined, their bodies lean and powerful. The way they move and contort during a match is mesmerizing to watch.



But there is something else about college wrestlers that is deeply attractive to me - their confidence. Wrestling is a sport that requires a lot of self-assuredness and belief in oneself. A wrestler needs to know that his body is capable of taking on another human being in a physical battle. When I see a wrestler step onto the mat, I am impressed not just by his physical appearance, but by the boldness that he embodies.



Of course, it doesn't hurt that wrestlers often wear singlets that cling tight to their bodies, accentuating every curve and muscle. It's hard not to be drawn in by the sight of a wrestler's chiseled abs, or the way his biceps bulge as he grapples with his opponent. But ultimately, what makes college wrestlers sexy to me is the combination of physical prowess and unshakable confidence that they bring to the mat.



As someone who has been around college wrestlers for a while, I have noticed that some of them could come across as incredibly cocky. Maybe it was because they were in such great shape, or because they were so good at what they did, but there's definitely a certain level of arrogance that can be hard to ignore. Of course, not all wrestlers were like this, and I have come across many who are humble and respectful. But some of them do seem to think that they're invincible and I so wished to teach them a lesson at times.



Growing up, I always admired wrestlers from afar, but I never dared to get too close. I was afraid that if I ever participated, my attraction towards my opponents would be revealed. Instead, I found my passion in writing and became a skilled journalist who covered wrestling. It’s been an incredible journey, and I have gained a lot of respect among wrestlers and their fans nationwide. I love interviewing wrestlers, profiling college wrestlers and learning about their training routines, and getting an inside scoop on their matches. My job also allowed me to be around the object of my desires, but it did come at a cost.



I have always wanted to hurt and have my wicked way with wrestlers, and I can’t count the number of times I just wanted to strangle one of the cocky jocks to death as I was interviewing them. I had managed to surprise my feelings for so long, so long all until that eventful day where my fantasies became a reality and since then I have to admit I have felt alive and awoken a dark beast inside of me.

I hadn’t realized everything before, but I was in a perfect position to ensure I lived out my darkest fantasies and played that fateful day over and over in my head.





I was ecstatic when my editor assigned me to interview one of the top wrestlers at Kent State University. As a sports journalist, I always took pride in covering college wrestlers and their stories, and this was a real opportunity to dig deeper and learn more about what it takes to become a top wrestler. I had been following this particular athlete's career and knew that he had recently won a national wrestling championship, which made the prospect of interviewing him even more exciting.



When I arrived at Kent State's sports center, I went to the wrestling office to confirm the interview and was surprised to find that the wrestler in question was no longer on the team. The coach informed me that the athlete had been dismissed from the team after pulling a prank that resulted in property damage. I was disheartened and frustrated that my interview had fallen through, especially since I had been preparing for it for weeks.



However, the coach suggested that I interview another wrestler from the team to make up for the lost interview. He mentioned a wrestler who had made a remarkable recovery after a significant injury and had recently returned to the mat, but I politely declined and told him I would watch their next match ups and chose someone myself.





As I sat in the stands and watched the next wrestling matches at the university, my eyes were glued to the athletes on the mat. As a sports journalist, I was always on the lookout for new talent and inspiring stories to share with my readers. And then I saw him.



Mason was a 19-year-old wrestler from Kent State University, and he was a machine on the mat. He moved with agility and power, taking down his opponents with confidence and ease. I was immediately impressed by his skills and watched him carefully throughout the match, trying to catch any sign of weakness or vulnerability.





But Mason was a force to be reckoned with. He moved with grace and precision, dominating his opponents and demonstrating a true mastery of the sport. As the match came to an end, I knew I had to talk to him. Mason was the kind of athlete that other top universities were reportedly sniffing around, and I was thrilled to catch him at such an exciting time in his career.





After the match, I approached Mason with trepidation, unsure of how he would react to my request for an interview. But he was incredibly gracious and agreed to speak with me about his background, his training, and his ambitions in the world of wrestling. The interview was a huge success, and I was grateful for the opportunity to speak with such an inspiring young athlete. Mason was truly a talent to watch, and I couldn't wait to share his story with my audience.





After the matches, I made my way down to the locker room where the athletes were winding down after the physically exhausting athletic display. The lights were dimmed, and everyone was exhausted and reflective after the night’s entertainment, but when I spotted Mason, I knew I had to approach him. As a journalist, I knew that this was my opportunity to capture the story of a future star; an athlete with the chance to make his mark in wrestling history.



I introduced myself, and to my surprise, Mason knew exactly who I was. He was frankly thrilled about the prospect of being interviewed, and I needed no introduction. I quickly informed him of my intentions for the interview and my plans to showcase his story to the wrestling world, highlighting his journey and accomplishments, making the experience as meaningful as possible. He was excited about the opportunity to tell his story and eager to share his insights and perspectives with an audience that respected hard-working student-athletes such as himself.



We agreed to meet the next day at my motel for the interview. Mason seemed very obliging, and I could sense his excitement for the opportunity to share his story with my audience.





Mason arrived at my motel exactly at noon, just as we had arranged. As soon as I opened the door to let him in, I couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked. His tall, muscular frame filled the doorway, and my heart raced at the sight of him. As a professional, I knew that I had to keep my physical attraction under control, but it was easier said than done.



As we sat down to conduct the interview, I struggled to focus on the task at hand. Mason was intelligent and charismatic, and I found myself drawn to him both intellectually and physically. I tried to keep my urges in check and stay professional, but it wasn't easy. I couldn't stop my thoughts from wandering, and I found myself imagining all sorts of things that I knew I shouldn't.





Despite my internal struggle, I focused my attention on Mason's story. He talked about his childhood, his parents' support, and how he got into wrestling. He spoke of the challenges he faced when deciding to pursue wrestling and how he had to balance his academic and athletic commitments while still maintaining a social life. Throughout the conversation, I couldn't help but admire his strength of character, and his determination to overcome the obstacles that had come his way.



I was also curious to learn about his ultimate goals and aspirations. Mason talked passionately about his dream to become a professional wrestler and his desire to represent the University on the national stage. I found myself agreeing with him and rooting for him to succeed. At one point in the interview, I asked him if he planned on staying at Kent State, to which he replied that he had long-term plans to establish his legacy at the university before he moved on to other things. His dedication to the university, his sport, and his ambitions further endeared him to me.





I sat across from Mason, silently marveling at his intelligence and his dedication to his sport. The interview was going smoothly, and my heart swelled with pride at the thought of sharing his story with the world.



But then my phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting our conversation. I glanced at the screen, and my heart sank as I read the message from my editor. The originally featured wrestler had been kicked off the course. The story was now dead. The interview was no longer of interest to the publication.



I struggled to keep my emotions in check. I had no intention of killing Mason, but at that moment, everything changed. I had the wrestler in my hotel room, and no one knew he was there. The realization dawned on me that this was going to be my last chance to do something meaningful with the moment and give him the publicity he deserved. Suddenly, a wave of madness crashed over me, and I quickly flung a ligature around Mason's neck and strangled him.



Mason’s eyes opened wide in shock.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The young wrestler managed to exclaim as I tightened my grip on the ligature, and he instinctively brought his hands up to try and pull my grip away.



“This is nothing personal Mason, just you happened to be the wrestler that drove me to my first kill.” I snarled as I looked him directly in the eyes.





Mason’s whimpering stops instantly as his air is cut off. His bloodshot eyes widen in fear–he finally understands that he’s going to die.

“Please stop. Please I don’t want to die.” Mason begged as he fought back, his twisting and turning as if was wrestling so he could try and throw me off.



Now I have to hold him tightly for a bit while I ride out his panicked thrashing. Mason bucked and thrashed about as if he was in a championship wrestling match.



I watched as Mason’s eyes started to bulge, changing to a deeper shade of red as pinpoint hemorrhages burst deep in the whites. The tears leaking from the corners ran across his face to blend with the snot oozing from his nose.



God, it felt good killing Mason as he writhed in terror and pain. His face is contorted into a rictus of agony, white froth erupting from the corners of his mouth, squeezing out past his purple, protruding tongue, as he shook his head wildly from side to side, still futilely seeking escape from the crushing pain in his neck and chest. I wonder if Mason knew by now that there was to be no escape; this will only end in his death, but the physical demands override logic. He has to fight; he can’t help it. And every moment of his struggle continued to turn me on.

As the life drained from his eyes, I felt a sense of relief washed over me. As I looked at the lifeless body sprawled on the chair next to me, I felt a sudden pang of remorse and regret. What had I done? I had taken an innocent life, all for the sake of my own twisted fantasies.





I sat next to Mason’s lifeless body, feeling sick to my stomach, trying to come to terms with what I've just done. I stared at his corpse, touching his lifeless body, and I realized that this is what I have been waiting for my whole life. I had always dreamed of killing a wrestler. It was an uncontrollable urge that had driven my every thought for years, and now, it had become a reality.



Mason's frantic fight for his life had turned me on in a way I couldn't explain. His desperate attempts to break my grip made my heart race, and I had felt a surge of adrenaline that I'd never experienced before. In an instant, I knew that this was what I had been waiting for.



I stripped him down to his underwear, before I touched and caressed his athletic body, feeling his firm muscles and his toned abs, taking in everything that made him the perfect specimen of an athlete. I felt a sense of joy and excitement, relishing the moment of having his body to myself, as I now indulged in my fantasies and fucked the young wrestler.





I searched Mason's bag, and found his singlet, and it hit me that he was scheduled to attend a wrestling practice that afternoon. I imagined the thrill he must have had when he was packing it, the excitement of a new practice in his future. It was his passion, and it showed me how driven and dedicated he was.



I dressed him in his skin-tight singlet and couldn't believe how sexy he looked firsthand. His muscular body was on full display, and I couldn't help but admire every inch of him. He was perfect in every sense of the word. It was everything I had ever wanted and more, and as I looked down at him, I felt a sense of lust and pleasure wash over me.





I took some pictures of Mason's body, and I played around with him as if he were alive. Imagining he was putting up a great fight before I pinned him down and counted to three. His muscles bulged and tensed, but I was stronger, and in the end, I had conquered him. The illusion of our wrestling match allowed me to indulge in an erotic dream, and the feeling was intoxicating.



As I collapsed on top of his lifeless body, I knew that my actions could never be undone, and my fate was sealed. I would never be the same person I was before this. I had taken Mason's life and satisfied my twisted fantasies, and for me, there would be no going back. This was something I loved, and now more wrestlers were going to die and with my job I could scout for suitable victims well in advance.



For a moment, it felt like the world had opened up to me; I had all the power, and there was nothing stopping me. But as reality set in and I realized what I had done, a sense of fear and uncertainty crept in as I wondered if I would get caught.



My thoughts turned to disposing of Mason's body, and I realized that I needed to do this quickly, before anyone became suspicious of his disappearance. I took his car keys and pressed the key fob to ensure that I knew which car belonged to him.



As night fell, I made my way to Mason's car, and opened the trunk. His lifeless body was still clad in his sexy singlet, and I take a moment to admire how good-looking he still appeared, even in death. I then lifted him gently and placed him in the trunk of his car.



I jumped behind the wheel, and I drove for a few hours, stopping by a remote swamp. I opened the trunk and dragged Mason's body that was still wearing the singlet that I found so appealing out. With no one around to see me, I rolled his lifeless body into the water, and I watched as it disappeared beneath the surface, swallowed by the swamp.



Feeling relieved that the body had been disposed of, I got back into car, relieved that no one saw me. I stopped a few blocks away from the university and parked his car on a quiet street. Now waiting to see if I would get away with murder or be caught.





The next few weeks after Mason's murder were the most nerve-wracking I had ever experienced. I was constantly on edge, nervous that at any moment someone would knock on my door, and the police would be there to arrest me. I know that what I did was wrong, and I might have to pay the price for my actions.



During this time, I learned that Mason had been reported missing, and the police had no leads. I tried to appear as casual as possible when his name came up in conversations, but every time I heard his name, my skin crawled. I know that my actions took away someone's life, and that thought was constantly at the forefront of my mind.



As time passed, however, I started to relax. Two weeks had gone by, and there had been no leads on Mason's disappearance. I even began to feel excited when my editor assigned me to cover the story of the young wrestler's disappearance. A part of me wanted to know what the police knew and what the public thought happened to him.



Although I knew that I was responsible for his disappearance, my journalistic instincts, mixed with a twisted excitement, pushed me to cover the story thoroughly.





Three weeks after murdering Mason, his badly decomposing body, still wearing his singlet, was found in the swamp by a local fisherman. The police announced it as a murder, and they were baffled as to why he was found wearing a singlet. They speculated that he must have been a wrestler or on his way to a wrestling match.



The discovery of Mason's body was a turning point in the investigation and brought the police's attention to the young wrestler's disappearance. However, with no leads or suspects, the case turned cold, and the murder remained unsolved. I was relieved that the authorities had not caught me for my crime.





I laughed to myself when I realized that my promise to make Mason famous had come true, although not in the way he had wished. He had dreamed of becoming a successful wrestler, but my actions had turned him into a victim and a headline for the newspapers and news outlets around the country.





As for me, a monster had been born that day and no wrestler was safe.
 
Chapter 2


For weeks I had been trying to battle myself and the urge to take another life. Killing Mason had been amazing and being around wrestlers had made the urge stir and want to come to the front.



Then one morning I woke and decided that to fight the urge was no use. I felt the best I had ever felt when I killed Mason and now, I knew I could feel like that permanently. I knew I was born to kill, and it was time to unleash the beast.



I already had my next target in mind and now prepared to take his life.

He was a freshmen at the college I had just been at. A handsome young wrestler with a slim toned build whom I had overheard discussing his love of golf. Golf courses were huge and there was a lot of spots to snatch attack and make my move, so I began to prepare for my next kill.





Gavyn was an extraordinary 18-year-old college freshman. With a towering build and an unwavering tenacity, Gavyn had wrestled his way through high school, leaving an indomitable mark on his opponents and capturing the hearts of wrestling enthusiasts.





Now, embarking on a new chapter of his life, Gavyn was ready to tackle the challenges that college had to offer. Little did he know, he would soon discover that life held more than just championship belts and takedowns.



Before bidding farewell to his small hometown, Gavyn's popularity reached new heights during his senior year of high school. With his charismatic nature and exceptional athletic skills, he found himself honored with the title of Homecoming King at the prom. The crown sat atop his head as a testament to his immense popularity amongst his peers. And amidst the cheers and applause, Gavyn found solace in the arms of his girlfriend, Kenzie. Their love story had blossomed on the sidelines of wrestling matches, with Kenzie cheering him on and offering unwavering support. Their bond was unbreakable, their love strong enough to endure any distance.





Beyond the wrestling mat, Gavyn was known for his vibrant personality and dedication as a loyal friend. His sense of humor was contagious, leaving everyone in stitches with his goofy antics. Whether it was pulling pranks on his buddies or lightening the mood during intense moments, Gavyn's laughter filled the air and brought joy to those around him. Adored by his family, he was the centerpiece of their lives, always enhancing their bonds with his radiant presence and infectious smile.



While wrestling was his passion, Gavyn harbored a surprising affinity for a sport seemingly opposite to it – golf. When he wasn't on the wrestling mat, he could be found meticulously analyzing golf swings and perfecting his own technique. The solitude provided by the golf course allowed Gavyn to escape the rigors of his intense athletic pursuit. It was a sacred escape, a tranquil sanctuary where he could temporarily set aside his wrestling persona and immerse himself in the beauty of the fairways.





As Gavyn ventured into the uncharted waters of college, he carried with him an amalgamation of experiences, an unyielding spirit, and an insatiable hunger for success. Wrestling may have defined him throughout his high school years, but now, he was ready to explore new passions and embrace the depths of his potential. And as the pages of his story unfolded, Gavyn's journey would be marked by an unexpected encounter that would make him a household name.





I’d spent a few days studying Gavyn, his movements and what he liked doing. I’d followed him to the golf course and prepared to make my move on him somewhere on the green.

The first thing I did when I arrived at the golf course was head to Gavyn’s old sedan car and pop the trunk of his car. After a quick rummage I grabbed the bag that contained his wrestling gear and put it in my car.



I then watched as Gavyn hung about with some friends and heard him tell them that he would play eight holes with them and then when they had finished, he would do the remaining eight hole by himself.





I watched as Gavyn, with his mischievous grin, was surrounded by a group of friends, their laughter echoing through the air. It was a scene straight out of a feel-good movie.



As I watched, Gavyn pulled his hoodie over his head, transforming himself into a comical character. His friends erupted into fits of laughter; their genuine joy contagious. With a twinkle in his eyes and mischief brewing in his heart, Gavyn seized a golf club and casually draped it around his shoulders, creating a whimsical image. It was as if the golf club magically blended with his carefree spirit, like an extension of his persona.





With the club resting effortlessly, Gavyn strutted about, parading his silliness. He playfully swung the club, pretending to hit imaginary golf balls. His friends, utterly enthralled by his antics, doubled over with laughter, clutching their sides in amusement. The golf club became a prop in his silly performance, a testament to his ability to find humor and entertainment in the simplest of things.



In that moment, I understood why Gavyn was such a magnet for positivity. His infectious energy and ability to find joy in everyday moments made him a beacon of light, drawing people towards him like moths to a flame.



As I reflected on Gavyn's goofy display, I couldn't help but admire the rare quality he possessed. In a world that often takes itself too seriously, Gavyn was a refreshing reminder to embrace the childlike wonder within us all. His ability to effortlessly let loose and be himself was a trait that endeared him to all who knew him if only for the short while he had left in the world.





I observed Gavyn and his friends setting out for a round of golf. Their camaraderie was palpable as they shared jokes and friendly banter, their bond evident in their easy laughter and genuine affection for one another.



As they reached the fourth hole, a picturesque spot with a breathtaking view, Gavyn's infectious energy took hold once again. Midway through his swing, he suddenly halted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Draping his arm around his friend's shoulder, Gavyn struck a pose, preserving the moment in a photograph. With a beaming smile, he held a golf club, its sleek shape complementing his vibrant personality.





The click of the camera captured the essence of their friendship, freezing the genuine camaraderie and shared experiences in a single frame. It was a picture that would forever remind them of this moment, the joyous laughter, and the memories made on the golf course.



As they resumed their game, Gavyn's infectious spirit continued to infuse the air. His swings were a harmonious blend of focus and playfulness, as if he danced with the club in sync with his soul. Even during serious rounds, his ability to find joy in the sport radiated through his every move.





As the group reached the eighth hole, the competitive spirit in Gavyn seemed to ignite. With a twinkle in his eye, he playfully turned towards his friends, a mischievous smirk adorning his face. In a jovial tone, he teased them, suggesting that maybe they should all practice a bit more, considering how he had just whooped their arses on the previous holes.





Laughter erupted from his friends, their mirth filling the air and intermingling with the sounds of nature. They playfully bantered back, retorting with humorous jabs of their own. It was a moment of friendly competition, where victory and defeat were embraced as mere elements of the game.



Gavyn, the natural entertainer that he was, reveled in the joyous chaos he had created. With a good-natured chuckle, he soaked in the vibrant energy, basking in the light-heartedness of the moment. It was as if time stood still, offering a glimpse into the everlasting bond these friends shared.



But as the laughter subsided, a brief pause followed. Gavyn remained standing alone, a thoughtful expression replacing his playful demeanor. The friends, sensing his need for solitude, fondly bid their goodbyes, leaving Gavyn to his own thoughts.



Alone on that peaceful green, Gavyn stood in silence, his eyes scanning the rolling landscape. He relished in the stillness, the serenity that enveloped him. It was during these solitary moments that his passion for golf truly came alive. With each swing of the club, he found solace—a moment of contemplation and self-reflection.



Although separated from his friends, Gavyn was content with his own company. The tranquil ambiance of the golf course became his companion, whispering secrets of patience and resilience. In this moment of separation, he could recharge his spirit, allowing his passion for the sport to grow deeper and intertwine with the fabric of his being.



And so, as the friends departed, leaving Gavyn to revel in the silence of the 8th hole, he cherished the solitude. It was a chance for him to connect with the game he loved, to tap into his own inner strength, and to reflect upon the memories they had forged together. However, Gavyn didn’t realize he was not alone and I was watching his every move waiting for the moment to strike.





As Gavyn reached the 12th hole, a sense of serenity seemed to envelop him. The once playful atmosphere now transformed into a calm and focused energy. With utmost determination, he stepped up to the tee, placing a ball delicately upon the grass.



Taking a deep breath, Gavyn aligned himself with the target, his muscles tense with anticipation. The cool breeze whispered through the trees, adding a touch of tranquility to the scene. The soft thud of the golf club meeting the ball echoed across the course as Gavyn struck it with precision.



The ball soared through the air, gracefully gliding across the green expanse. Gavyn followed its trajectory with unwavering concentration, his eyes fixed upon the tiny white dot as it descended towards the ground. It landed with a gentle bounce, closer to the intended target than he had hoped.



As each ball effortlessly soared through the air, a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment swept over Gavyn's face. Regardless of whether the shots were perfect or not, the sheer act of swinging his club and witnessing the flight of the ball brought him unparalleled joy.



As Gavyn looked out over the green, he had no idea I had grabbed a golf club and was now sneaking up behind him and brought the golf club crashing down on the back of his head. Gavyn let out an “oomph” as he fell to the floor as I continued to rain blows down on his head with the golf club. Blood splattered up after each blow and soon enough Gavyn lay lifeless on the floor, a pool of blood now forming around his head.





I knew I couldn’t leave Gavyn’s body out in the open and dragged him into the undergrowth before hiding his golf clubs and bringing the car near to the fence where I had hid Gavyn’s body. I then dragged the dead wrestler to my car and placed his body in the trunk.



I drove a couple of hundred miles until I reached the desert and pulled off down a dirt road. In this private and secluded spot, I removed Gavyn’s body from the trunk and undressed him down to his underwear.





I then took the bag I grabbed from Gavyn’s car and took out his wrestling gear. I then dressed my latest victim in his singlet and began to playfully wrestle his body before taking some shots of my latest victim and leaving him to decompose in the desert.







Killing and snuffing the lives out of attractive wrestlers was invigorating and turned me on. This was what I lived for now and looked forward to the next.





It wasn’t until four weeks later that Gavyn’s skeletal remains were found in the desert.



 
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Each story will contain its original pictures so nothing will be left out.

Please support this new venture if you can

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