ナチョリブレ の プロトタイプ

"Nacho Libre's Prototype"

By Timothy Bourbon Belmonte III

Nacho Libre was suiting up for his next cage match. He always got into his latex costume as slowly as possible, since he loved the feel of the smooth, slick material on his skin. It was especially arousing when it rubbed against his penis, and his libido increased just thinking about putting the suit on, meaning he was always completely erect during each of his wrestling matches. Today he was to fight a newcomer named Alex Mercer. "Ahhh, fresh gringo meat for my taco," he chuckled and licked his lips slowly. Sweat was already beginning to form on his double chin. "I can't wait to spray a full order of my special hot sauce all over his tortilla white face."

Alex stepped into the ring, his dusty gray hoodie blowing softly in the wind. Nacho was already waiting for him. "Lookin' goooood, hombre," he catcalled seductively.

Mercer grunted in response, barely acknowledging the large wrestler who stood before him. This guy's a fucking joke, he thought. Let's just get this over with so I can prove I'm the best already.

The cage rose ominously around the two combatants. The two experienced fighters began staring each other down mercilessly. "You look like you have beeeg cojones, amigo," Nacho said, attempting to catch Alex off-guard. "But are they big enough to satisfy me?"

"Asshole," Mercer shot back bluntly, still staring into the depths of Libre's soul.

"Maybe…" Nacho responded, trailing off. "Geet him, boys!" he yelled. Instantly, three US Army soldiers dropped from the sky into the center of the stadium. Alex's sharp claws instantly ripped through his jacket and impaled one of the troops through the face. As blood splattered all over Nacho's outfit, the other two soldiers grabbed each of Alex's arms, restraining him. Nacho sniffed the blood-covered latex gleefully. "Mmm," he breathed slowly, moving closer to Mercer. "That's right, my nasty little boy. This isn't a real wrestling match, it was just a plot for me get you in my clutches. Clever, no?" Alex gasped and tried to break free, but to no avail. "Now, I'm going to bend over. And when I do, I want you to shove your Hammer Fist all the way up my asshole. I want you to stretch it apart." He moved in closer and closer, before finally whispering in Mercer's ear, "I want you to break me, Alex Mercer-kun… Make my prostate bleed."

"Fu-fuck you, Nacho Libre-chan," Alex stuttered. One of the soldiers immediately slammed his rifle into the man's stomach, forcing him to cough up blood all over the floor.

"Don't struggle," Nacho told him. "Just do it." Alex Mercer didn't want to, but he knew it was useless to resist. He positioned his large, monster-like hand over Libre's ass, and began to rip the costume to shreds. "Yes! YES! Tear my border wall down!" Nacho screamed. Two slick tentacles slid quickly into Nacho's asshole and began to stretch it open. "That's one spicy quesadilla!" he cooed. His anus gaped wider and wider until it was roughly the size of his stomach and began to bleed ever-so-slightly. "STOP!" Nacho commanded. "Hammer time!" Holding his pooper open with the tentacles, Alex Mercer shoved his entire Hammer Fist in at once.

There was nothing he could do. The soldiers were personally trained by Arnold Schwarzenegger himself, making their rock hard grips too tight to escape from. His fist slid in and out of Nacho's asshole slowly at first, then faster and faster. "Dios Mio!" Libre exclaimed, nearing orgasm. "Yo quiero semen!" he screeched as his man-juice squirted all over the mat. Alex breathed a sigh of relief, hoping his torment was now over.

"Let me go," he pleaded.

"Baka, the fiesta's only beginning," Libre told him. "Now spread your lips like you're about to eat a chalupa."

"No, you sick son of a bit—" Alex Mercer was cut off by the soldiers grabbing his mouth and stretching it open.

Nacho ripped off the rest of his catsuit. "Now it's time for my ultimate technique," he announced. "Extra Special 99 Cent Bean Burrito Mouth Rape With Sour Cream!" Nacho slammed his entire manhood into Alex's mouth with the force of a 26 horse-power engine. The large Mexicano pene was too much for him, and ended up splitting his mouth in two. Blood squirted from the socket all over both soldiers as the top half of his head fell to the ground.

"Bueller to base," the older looking trooper said into his walkie talkie. "Virus eliminated. Over."

"Thanks for getting that bastard off our backs," the younger of the two soldiers said to Nacho Libre.

"Not at all," the wrestler responded. "Always a pleasure to serve our troops." He winked.