Ajax, the strongest man

I tower above most spectators, measuring in at 6'6" and tipping the scales at 330 pounds. Today I enter the arena wearing a gi and short trunks, like those worn by samboists. I raise my fists in the air as I enter and grin madly to the crowd. Truth be told I would despise most of these rich bastards but entertainers get invited back, and I want their money.

Today is my debut. I have trained for the last 9 years as a martial artist, traveling the world to sample and refine techniques from whatever far flung master would spar with me. Unfortunately I developed an unfortunate..... reputation.

As I travelled and enjoyed the thrill of victory again and again, the domination began to feel absolutely erotic. To have someone at your mercy, physically dominating them, and proving yourself to be the strongest produces an absolute euphoria. It began to be that as my opponents tapped out or felt their consciousness fade they could see or feel my stiffness, my desire.

While this made me a black sheep in many circles, it did lead me to here. While I was touring through the Luchadore training camps of Mexico, I was approached by a woman. She was smartly dressed in a suit more expensive than any car I've driven that accentuated her curves while exuding an air of power. As a journeyman fighter I had to recognize a wealthy promoter when I saw one, and every alarm in my head was ringing.

She told me of an organization based out of the cultural mecca that is Sin City willing to cater to a fighter of my skills and.... proclivities. I agreed, and she asked me a question that felt unimportant but I now realize would determine the rest of my life.