Hell yes!

“Ah, so that’s your type, huh?” The promoter mutters under his breath with a smattering of judgment. “Alright, lace up your boots and make your way to the ring. Go! Go! Go!” You finish tying up the laces on your bright white boots, and as you head towards the gorilla position the promoter slaps your ass. You shoot him a disapproving glance, but you can’t deny that deep down you kind of liked it. “Alright, go bust a nut!” The promoter shouts as you walk away.

The men and women in gorilla position are crowded around monitors and turn to ogle you as you pass by. Some cheesy saxophone music plays. This is apparently your entrance theme. You hear the deep and sexy voice of a female announcer shout your name, “And making their debut here tonight, It’s Rosy Boy!” Hearing such a velvety voice shout your ring name gives you a tingle in your loins. You burst through the curtains to the sound of raucous cheers and ravenous calls. They whistle and shout remarks complimenting your physique. You can’t help but blush whenever somebody praises you. You wave to the crowd as you jobber jog to the ring.

The arena is small and dingy, it’s poorly lit, and the crowd isn’t too large. There are about ninety people in total. It’s a niche promotion and advertising a wrestling company that encourages sexual **** can’t be easy. The crowd if made up of a variety of people. From creepy old men to attractive young women. All sorts make up the fan base. This makes you feel a little more at ease.