Tuesday, September 1, 2015

How MULE Got His Groove Back: MULE vs. THE GUIDO

How MULE Got His Groove Back: MULE vs. THE GUIDO

by Mule assisted by Stefan Kane,
 original art by Steve Reeves.

Homo guido muscularis: A variety of gymrat considered to be a pest and a nuisance by serious lifters.  Cf. also: Goombah

After Mule’s subjugation by Tyrone [See The Cock Contest Round Two:Dick-to-Dick ], he just wasn’t himself, and his new buddy Jamal was growing concerned.  Sure the now vulnerable Mule had been fun to seduce and have a few tumbles in the sack with, but he had grown to like him as a friend, and a dejected Mule just wasn’t the way he wanted his new workout and fuckbuddy to be.  So three weeks after Tyrone's Victory he texted Mule to meet him at Armburst Gym instead of the  usual Iron Warrior Gym, for a change of scenery that Jamal thought would do the Mule good.  Jamal was also planning a workout so intense that Mule's test levels and aggressive nature just HAD to rebound, or so at least he hoped it would.

While warming up and waiting for Mule, Jamal noted a handsome jacked Guido working out.

The Guido was the de facto king of the Armburst gym. His name was Tony. He stood 5'9'' tall and weighed 245 pounds of muscle. His shoulders were so wide; they dominated the gym. Huge cannonballs flowed down from traps that made his shirts bulge and even the best-built bodybuilders envious. His chest was thick and powerful. And his upper arms were 21 inches of competition-league meat, rippling with muscle fibers and his forearms were unbelievably thick and dense muscle. A thick short hairy powerhouse, a stocky ball of muscle.

The Guido moved more iron than anyone in the gym. The others just dropped their jaws as he did bench presses and curls with weight that was out of reach for even the most diehard guys there.

  Jamal got an instant woodie when he saw this fine specimen of a man, and drool welled in his mouth, but he soon went flaccid again when he began observing the Guido's behavior in the gym.  He definitely was exhibiting the emotional side effects of ‘roid use. The guy impatiently bullied others to hurry through their sets if he wanted to use the station—while he would stop and text on a machine, while others were waiting, growling at anyone who might dare to ask if he was done.  He also didn’t wipe a bench after he used it, leaving hair filled pools of gorilla sweat for others to deal with.  He didn’t re-stack weights, dropped weights with a clang, and grunted so loud that the lunk klaxons were set off at the Planet Fitness two miles away.  Jamal got impatient and went out to look for Mule's Jeep pulling into the parking lot.

Mule arrived…

Mule was wearing his jock, gym shorts and tank top, same as Jamal.  Together they sauntered into the gym ... each trying to psych the other out by showing off their bodies to their best advantage without actually posing.  As part of their warm up both musclemen rode stationary bicycles for twenty minutes ... even getting in some fierce competition to see who could peddle faster and longer.  Mule won. 

They moved to the weight bench.  Jamal let Mule go first in the bench press.  Mule piled on 225 pounds.  He look at Jamal proudly boasting, “These baby weights are just to warm up my pecs for the real work out.” 

Jamal was impressed but he didn’t show it.  “Yeah sure, Mule.  Just go ahead. I’ll spot ya.

Mule powdered his hands for a better grip on the bar before he lay down on the bench.  When he looked up Jamal was practically standing directly overhead.  Mule could see up his shorts to his well packed jock.   It made his mouth water.  He felt himself getting hard.   He had to force himself to concentrate on what he was doing, but it was difficult.

 He carefully placed his hands on the bar.  He drew a deep breath expanding his massive chest ... his pecs almost bursting through his tank top.   He lifted the weight up and pressed it ten times without effort before replacing the bar on the bench rack.  He jumped up ... swaggered over to Jamal ... flexed his pecs as he arrogantly asked, “So how much weight should we take off for you ...?

Jamal took the playful remark as an insult.  “Yeah right, Mule.  Pack on two more 45's and watch as a real man work out.”  With one hand he dramatically ripped off his tank top and tossed it directly at Mule’s face.  Mule caught it.  He threw it down on the gym floor after he wiped his crotch with it.  Jamal saw the gesture.  “Keep it Mule with my compliments. You may need a fuck rag for later on.

Jamal turned around and lay down on the bench.  He drew a deep breath expanding his great chest to its maximum.  As Mule watched Jamal he couldn’t help but pop a hardon. His jock began to pinch.  He reached down to readjust himself.  Jamal lifted the 315 lbs. bar.  He pressed it a cool six times before racking the weight.  He stood up to confront Mule.  He flexed and danced his pecs in his face. 
Mule brushed past him.  Mule  took off his top carefully laying it down on a nearby bench.  He added another fifty pounds to the bar.  He lay down ... took a deep breath ... he lifted ... he pressed the 365 pound weight four times ... held it up ... gritted his teeth ... grunted as he strained out another two lifts.  He racked the weight.  Stood up ... again flexed his pecs at Jamal.  “Just getting started, dude.
Not to be out done, Jamal added another forty pounds before reclining down on the bench.  As Mule looked on Jamal hoisted the weight.  He pressed the 405 bar six times ... he strained to add the last two before racking the weight.

Meanwhile the Guido headed off to the showers, looking annoyed at the Mule, perhaps feeling overshadowed by his presence in the gym.  Usually when he worked out, he was the center of attention in the gym, today the notice he got while still significant paled compared to the real star of the gym, Mule.

Your turn,” Jamal challenged.

As always Mule was impressed by Jamal’s body and phenomenal strength.  His cock had grown very hard ... achingly hard as it pulsated against the restraints of his jock as he watched Jamal working out and flexing.   But he wasn’t about to be shown up by him.  

Mule laid down, gritted his teeth and pressed the 405 lbs. bar eight times.  His face reddened as he grunted and strained to add the last two lifts.  He lay on the bench until he caught his breath. 
He stood up.  “You’re up, Jamal-boy,” he growled sarcastically.

Jamal was so impressed he popped a gigantic erection.  How he wanted to shove his cock all the way up into Mule at that very moment but there would be plenty of time for that later.

Well since we’re getting down to the nitty-gritty and working up a good sweat, I’m stripping down to my jock,” stated Jamal as he stepped out of his gym shorts.

 His erection was plainly visible. Unwittingly Mule followed suit, stripping off his shorts as well.  His hardon was also very noticeable pressing through his jock.

A male gym staffer came over to the pair of them as the gym erupted in whispers.  “You guys can’t do that in here, it is not allowed.”  Both Mule and Jamal mean-mugged him while they each flashed a double-bi to maximize the intimidation.  The staffer’s mouth gaped open, he tried to speak, but failed, and slunk off sheepishly his pants visibly tenting from a huge boner.  A half-dozen wannabes also stripped down to their jocks.  While the whisperings continued, nobody left the gym, but not much lifting and a lot of ‘miring was being done by much of the folks in the gym.

The jacked and ostentatiously macho gym manager came out to see what all the commotion was all about, spotted Mule and a few others in their jocks, decided discretion was the better part of valor with respect to the Mule and went back into his office to jerk off visions of Mule and Jamal’s spectacular bodies swirling in his head.

Jamal loaded on another thirty pounds. “Wow Jamal!  Who do you think you are, Superman?” Mule asked, admiring the 435 on the bar. Jamal had been secretly practicing for weeks for just an occasion like this.  He would yet show Mule he was his equal in strength and as well as his superior in bed. 
 Jamal lay down ... drew a very deep breath ... lifted the bar.  He pumped out four reps.  “Boy that felt real good,” he boasted as he thumped his chest with his fists.   Mule was most impressed.

This is where we start separating the men from the boys.” stated Mule.  He lay down, grabbed the 435 lbs. bar ... with great exertion he lifted the bar four times in succession ... paused ... then strained to add the last two.” 

This is where we start separating the men from the boys.” 

Jamal was most impressed.    Mule was strong ... super strong. 

Jamal contrasted the workout he and Mule were doing, with that of the Greasy Guido he had been lusting after earlier.  The 'Dago-with-Da-Dumbbells' was doing what was known as a Guido Workout.

He mentioned it to Mule.

"Sure he could bench press a car but despite his juiced up show muscle quads, from the way that Guido thinks the squat rack is for doing curls, I doubt that he  had the leg strength to carry even his magnum bottle of industrial hairspray or  his chest full of tacky jewelry." --snorted Mule derisively.

The ebony Adonis turned his attention back to Mule's heroic feats of strength. Jamal’s cock kept getting harder and harder as he thought about just how strong Mule really was.  It throbbed against his jock.  More and more he lusted after him, to sink his manmeat deep up into his musclebound body.  But that was for later. 

  “Let’s see, we’re up to 435...right?” asked Jamal.

Yeah ...for six reps… What of it?

I’m putting on another two dimes,” said Jamal as he packed the bar with two iron plates of 10. 

Jamal laid down on the bench. “Not that I need it, but spot me, will ya?

Yah,” replied Mule as he stood over Jamal's face.

Jamal looked up to see Mule’s monster cock pulsating inside his jock.  It strained so hard against the cloth that the elastic straps were near the breaking point.  He thought to himself he’d enjoy sucking off that piece of muscle meat. 

He grabbed the 455 lbs. bar ... he lifted the bar but was only able to press the weight twice before he was forced to rack it.   “Damn!” he shouted in disappointment as he stood up.

Mule strutted past him.  He pushed him aside saying, “Let a real man show ya how it’s done.”  He lay down ... drew a deep breath ... raised the bar and pressed it three times ... paused and added another three before replacing the bar on the rack.  Jamal was stunned.  He was left speechless by Mule’s phenomenal strength. 

Jamal's cock throbbed violently against his jock as he felt pre-cum flooding over his cockhead. 
Nothing but a paper weight," bragged Mule as he stood up and stroked his jock. He strolled right up and got into Jamal’s face.  He flexed his mighty biceps.  “Mightier than yours, Jamal-boy,” he gloated as he rubbed his throbbing jock against his rival’s.  He pressed in causing the beefy hunk to wince.  Jamal backed away.

What do ya say we work our arms next,” suggested Mule as he flexed his at Jamal.

Sure.  You go first.

Barbells or dumbbells?” asked Mule.

Your choice,” replied Jamal.

We’ll start with dummies,” he answered as he lifted two containing a hundred pounds apiece and cranked out a set of twelve.

Baby weights, huh,” said Jamal mockingly as he grabbed a pair of one hundred and twenty pound dumbbells and proceeded to pump out an even dozen. After replacing them he flexed his mighty guns for Mule to admire.

Big arms, dumb ass,” responded Mule as he lifted two, one hundred thirty pound pairs ten times, paused and huffed and puffed to get the last two.  “Now here’s a set of cannons to really worship,” he bragged as he flexed his biceps right in Jamal’s face.  “Go ahead and kiss ‘em if you want.  I do it all the time.

Yeah and I bet you have a blow up fuck doll of yourself under your bed as well.  Right Major Guns?”  Jamal turned his back on Mule and took a set of one hundred and fifty pound dumbbells off the rack.  With little effort he pumped out a set of twelve.  “Now these are muscle god arms to really worship,” he boasted as he again flexed, looking at himself in a nearby wall mirror as Mule looked on approvingly.

These aren’t pop guns I got big boy.”-- said Mule as he also flexed in the same mirror.  “It’s a good thing I’m here to show you how it’s done, Junior.”  He took a pair of one hundred eighty pounders and began to curl them ten times before replacing them.  He stepped back, shook out his arms and began to flex his biceps.  “Nice striations, don’t ya think,” he cooed as he admired himself in the mirror. He re-racked the dumbbells and posed his mighty arms.  “Now that’s impressive.”

Jamal vainly he attempted to curl the same weight but failed. In the battle of the guns, Jamal knew he’d lost.    He’d need to train harder.

Well, it would be nice to keep this up all night but it’s getting late,” said Mule.   “It was a good workout.  Congratulations.  I’m impressed by your strength.  You’ve really come a long ways, Jamal.  Very impressive.  I’m hitting the showers ... then taking off. "

Mule headed off in his sweaty jock to the locker room, leaving a manly aromatic trail of sweat, testosterone and pheromones in his wake.  Women moistened and men saluted him with their flagpoles suddenly at full mast when he passed by.  He was pleased with himself with how well he had performed with such an intense workout and when he hit the showers, he was smiling for the first time in weeks.  After Mule left the guys in their jocks put on their gym shorts over their jocks, knowing that the permissive atmosphere allowed by the sway of the Mule, had expired.

Jamal had lingered behind in the workout area, purportedly because he felt he needed to do some more cardio and wanted to hit the treadmills.  Mule when he looked over at the treadmills felt it had more to do with the handsome young jock exercising there.

Meanwhile Guido was fuming in the locker room at having been upstaged by Mule. Guido was used to being the center of attention at the gym.  He could not stand that Mule held the spotlight, when Guido normally was the king of this gym.  Who was this interloper?  This blond Bam Bam who was encroaching on his turf.

Every other time he worked out, it had been the women swooning over him!  He had never played second fiddle before.  When he worked out-all the wannabes fawned on him.  The staff looked the other way at his repugnant behavior and lack of gym etiquette, as he ruled this roost!  The female staffers had all been banged by him at one time or another and each secretly harbored ambitions to be more than a fuck buddy.  The male staffers all walked around with distinct boners and dreamed of him, dreamed they could BE him!

"Who is this Bam Bam?  This invader...coming in to MY gym and upstaging ME! Just who the fuck does he think he is!"--fumed Tony.

"Who is this Bam Bam? This invader...coming
in to MY gym and upstaging ME!"

But as the macho Guido began to flex and admire himself in the mirror, the anger and venom gave way to self- love.

"You are one gorgeous guy, Tony!"

The Guido said 'mirin' his reflection.

Mule noticed Guido narcissistically posing before the mirror with such pompous, pretentious and vainglorious orgy self-love that even Mule who was known for his extreme swaggering self-veneration, felt himself vomiting a little in his mouth.

"Hell, I'd hit that", cooed Guido flirtatiously with a 
broad wolfish grin aimed at his own reflection... 

"Hell, I'd hit that", cooed Guido flirtatiously with a broad wolfish grin aimed at his own  reflection.  His image grinned hungrily right back at him in a visual courtship between the flexing clones each preening like peacocks.

"I'd hit that with my FISTS!"--muttered Mule under his breath, and yet there was something to be said for his cocky assurance, his bulging muscles and his hyper-masculine virility. The Guido WAS breathtakingly attractive with a sheer animal magnetism, and a macho raw sexuality, which could not be denied.

"I'd hit that with my FISTS!"--muttered Mule

"Shit, look at that guy," Mule thought as he watched Guido's posedown.  "Holy fuck!
That guy is STACKED!"   The guy had huge, dark nipples planted on two slabs of hairy pec beef that made Mule's cock quicken just by looking at them. His thick chest, powerful pectoral muscles bordered on inhuman; broad and thick, the muscle bulged everywhere! And SHIT his upper arm was huge! In this position, Mule noticed just how developed his forearms were as well! Bigger than most men's biceps!

"Holy fuck on toast," Mule thought. "I just can't pass this one up. This macho muscled fuck is gettin' me boned just watching this. I got to get in on this posedown"

Mule joins the Posedown

Alpha versus alpha competition is all about the domination factor. The thrill of having two muscle studs who know they can defeat most anyone their size...and then putting that reputation on the line to see who can kick whose ass. You know the feeling when two muscle studs first meet: the initial stare-down, gazing at each other, some overt flexing and posing, then the sizing up of each other. Somewhere in the ritual, one dude challenges the other and the fight is on. After working out in the gym for hours, hitting the iron, you got that pumped up feeling of invincibility from all that testosterone raging in your balls; so it makes a perfect time for some alpha versus alpha fighting.
Guido noticed Mule's reflection in the mirror, and looked the blond he-man, up and down. 
Mule smiled back. His abs were two rows of brickwork, unsurpassed in their relief and definition. His waist was markedly narrower than Guido's, in spite of the fact that he was more massive than him.  Mule’s gargantuan pecs bounced in a gesture of intimidation and display.
"Shit! That guy is freakin' inhuman!"—the Guido thought.

When Mule studied his own muscular reflection, he had to admit that he was rather turned on by the hunk looking back at him.

Mule’s thick, muscular neck and broad powerful shoulders made his narrow waist seem even more ripped; that, coupled with two of the thickest, most rippling legs anywhere made Mule look like a god among mere mortals.

When Mule studied his muscular reflection, he had to admit that he was rather turned on by the hunk looking back at him

And let us not forget those arms!

And if this weren't enough, Mule's dimple-adorned face, with that killer confident grin, was enough to make you want to cry. So much muscle and so much beauty, all in one youthful, virile, confident package!  It just made Guido hate him even more, as he shook with envy and jealousy

Mule tightened his arms as they rested at his sides. They snapped to attention, hardening then relaxing with waves of muscle fibers.

Mule tightened his arms as they rested at his sides...

"Shiiiiit!!" --whispered Guido 

It thus came down to what it always does the alpha male versus the alpha male. Every guys has that male quality in him that makes him want to be the "top dawg".  He wants to prove to his counterparts that he is superior and that he rules the gym.  Most men enjoy being the leader, just some are more suited to actually being the leader than others. Mule and Guido entered into a posedown, like two silverback gorillas beating on their chests.

Mule was a master poser, showing off every shadow of muscle, every nuance of power. He slowly exhaled and the skin covering his abs dissolved into nothing, leaving only two columns of river rock, each individual stone a masterwork of perfection. The muscles bulged and bunched against each other; then as Mule slowly twisted his hips, they expanded and rolled. He watched Guido and raised his eyebrows in a devilish smile. Slowly, almost painfully, he lowered his arms.

He stepped toward, very closely. The two locked eyes. Then Guido’s eyes flicked down to study the cliff-like overhang of his pecs, his golden-tan nipples right in front of him.

Mule turned to Guido and stepped close. His warm, thick chest met Guido's face. He danced his huge pecs in front of Guido's eyes and they moved in waves, like two stingrays gliding over the ocean floor.

Guido locked eyes and spoke softly. "Shit, dude…” he felt himself both loathing and being powerfully attracted to the Mule simultaneously, the two passions slugging it out in his mind.
“You ain't got nothing on this, Guido! You must see something you like, huh dude?" –Mule said with a condescending air.

"You ain't got nothing on this, Guido!"

Guido turned and placed his hands behind his neck, flexing his magnificent back and tightened his powerful muscled glutes. Standing on his toes his calves bulged to a drool-worthy size. He turned back as Mule turned to pattern Guido's posing. His calves bulged as he stood on his toes and turning, he pumped up his awesome smooth chest displaying a slab of rock hard muscle. Guido pumped his chest out showing his bulging hairy pecs. He followed by flexing his hot quads bulging through a covering of hair that followed down his legs. Mule pumped his quads and they bulged. Both guys were well developed in ALL ways. Guido's huge balls hanging and acting as a pillow for his thick hunk of meat.  Both studs shot a double bicep at the other. Guido's cannonball biceps exploded at Mule who shot his equally huge biceps back in the crossfire. As if by signal, both guys' cocks grew with the urge to get it on with the other.

Mule was posturing, but inside he was not feeling the bravado he was feigning to awe the Guido.  He was still in a vulnerable state after the number Tyrone did on him.  He felt like he was still waiting for his testicles to re-descend.

Guido snapped out of awe for Mule by the taunt, and began to try and impress and intimidate Mule by flexing his own impressive musculature.

“Fuck you, Bam Bam!  Everyone at the gym is drooling over what I got going here!”

Guido took advantage of his thick powerhouse body, and his huge Italian salami to mind fuck Mule—and it was clear to Guido from the blonde’s slackening jaw, that it was having the desired effect. Mule might hate Guidos in general, but this one specimen, flexing in close proximity was sending fireworks of endorphins bursting in his brain as lustful thoughts exploded across his synapses. Over the next few minutes, Guido expertly took Mule through a muscle posing routine that had Mule lost in lust.  Guido had some great moves and poses and every one of them was designed to bring Mule further and further down the road toward full sexual stimulation. Mule, despite being a master poser, was losing this posedown.  Winning a posedown is as much mental as it is physical, and the Mule was getting mindfucked by the sizzling hot super masculine Italian stud.  The Guido gloated...  

"Fuck you Bam Bam!  Everyone at the gym is drooling over what I got going here!"

I think the more accurate question is….DO YOUR LIKE WHAT YOU SEE, BAM BAM! I can see this Italian muscle makes your cock shudder, Bam Bam…so I guess the answer is an emphatic YES!”, the Guido stated, his macho voice oozing confidence and testosterone. 

Mule felt himself emasculated by the display, and in his feeling of inadequacy and humiliation, his muscle cock went flaccid and seemed to shrink to the size it was when he was seven.  Mule was still reeling from the body and mind defeat Ty put on him, and became less bold and more mentally hesitant as the jacked Guido flared his muscles like a peacock in front of the mirror.  Dare Mule confront another alpha?  Would he just be defeated again?  Mule began to feel submissive. 

"I can see this Italian muscle makes your cock shudder, Bam Bam…so I guess the answer is an emphatic YES!"

“The mirror don't want nuthin' of what you got Bam Bam, not when it can drink in THIS Italian Stallion!” --Gloated the Guido, sensing Mule’s weakening resolve. Guido threw a few verbal punches Mule’s way:

Not feeling so cocky now, are we Blondie!! Guess Mr. White bread and Mayo isn’t quite the man he thought he was!” --the Goombah was on a roll. He was oozing masculinity and confidence from every hairy, greasy pore on his muscular fireplug of a body. The testosterone was embedded in his sweat causing to glisten with virility and raw animal sexuality. Mule's cock swelled once again.

Guido kept flexing his huge arms, moving his forearms out and then back-- very slowly.  The insane muscles bulged and flexed, taunting Mule.

Don’t you want to touch them?” Guido asked.

Mule couldn’t tell if that was an order or a request.  He hesitated, watching Guido continue his flexing. 

"The mirror don't want nuthin' of what you got Bam Bam, not when it can drink in THIS Italian Stallion!"

Nothing to say girlie man?  Your vagina got your tongue!

The Guido snorted and continued: “I am going to drag your ass back out into the gym, and let everyone see who the better man is. This is the muscle that is going to kick your ass Bam Bam!  I am going to give you such a beatdown and then display your broken carcass out on the gym floor, hanging over the  chin up bar, for all to see, and THEN I am going to make you my Girlfriend, pretty boy!"

This remark brought the fight back into Mule, who girded his loins and launched a few verbal jabs of his own.

The Guido snorted: "This is the muscle that is
 going to kick your ass Bam Bam!
...I am going to make you my Girlfriend, pretty boy!"

“I got REAL EARNED Muscles, not just injected muscle, Goombah!”-- Mule snarled.
Check out THESE muscles”—says Mule exhibiting a ‘crab’ pose and then bringing it up to a double bi. “These aren’t just for show, these are WORKING muscles, working them in feats of strength and in the bedroom, where my prodigious power is legendary.”

I am STILL the King of the gym and in the bed, and you ain’t shiiit compared to me, and you, your momma and your girlfriends all KNOW IT. “

"I got REAL EARNED Muscles, not just injected muscle, Goombah!"--Mule snarled

Mentioning Guido’s momma was more than the 'roided up Goombah could stomach, he had just about enough of Mule's taunting and throws a punch at him!  Right hook to the jaw but the blond ducks, spins on the ball of his foot and palm him on the bridge of the nose and make him double back in pain. He then recovers and comes in for a quick left jab and he catches Mule on the cuff on the chin, damn that guy can punch, ‘cuz Mule is seeing a constellation of stars.  The blond Adonis shakes it off, moving to make a left roundhouse to Guido's jutting jaw, but he blocks it, grabs Mule's arm swings him around like a rag into a stall door.   Before Mule can recover, that ‘roided bastard punches him straight in the face with his right, and then upper cuts Mule with the left in a 1-2 combo. Mule is stumbling back in a whiplash from the two concussive blows, and hitting the front of the shitter with the back of his muscular legs, slumps down on the seat of the crapper with an expression so glazed-- you expected to be hearing the sounds of cuckoos, as the blond jock’s clock really got cleaned this time.

Guido pulled Mule up only slightly to slam his knee in his face. Blood gushed from Mule's right eye as the blond hunk slumped back on the toilet.  The Mule received one hard kick to the stomach as the punishment continued unabated.  Then he kicked the blond muscleman in the head, when he seemed to be beginning to focus again. The mighty greaseball then hauled the punch-drunk Mule up to a near standing position, swung him around and then forced him down to his knees.  Guido lifted up the seat, and thrust Mule’s in to the bowl, which some douche had neglected to flush.  Mule’s face was being splashed around in the mixture of water and urine.  Guido made some repulsive joke about Mule “bobbing for turds”, then asked him: "See anything you like in there, Bam Bam?"   

"See anything you like in there, Bam Bam?"

Mule’s facial wounds stung from the urine with a cruel, caustic fire, which created such anger in Mule that a fires stirred in his belly.  The brute that held him was laughing hysterically. "What's the matter, Bam Bam? I guess you need to work out some more. Damn I am having so much fun here!  I love teaching Medigans a lesson in what Italian muscle can muster!  Maybe I should go work for the CIA 'cuz this is kinda like waterboarding, am I right, Bam Bam?"

"Maybe I should go work for the CIA, 'cause this is kinda like waterboarding, Am I right Bam Bam?"

The powerful Goombah was as unrelenting in his taunts as he was in dunking the blonde's handsome head into the filthy water. "What you sayin' Bam Bam?  Can't hear you over all that gurgling!"

"What you sayin' Bam Bam? Can't hear you over all that gurgling!"

Mule had been thrashed senseless by the victorious, powerful Wop.  Semi-conscious, his muscles throbbing with pain, he fought to regain his senses.  Gradually he became aware of water lapping at his face.   The cold water helped clear his head. Mule had had all he could take, and would stand it no more.  With all the energy he could muster forced his way up against Guido’s slack grip and kneed the Italian Bluto in the groin so hard, that when the Goombah groaned, it was in a pitch two octaves higher than his normal voice. 

Mule knees the Guido in the groin

Mule followed it up with a knee in the gut, and when the juice-monkey staggered back a couple steps, Mule spun and charged his opponent as they fell backwards out of the stall and were splayed across the tiles in the middle of the restroom, with the Mule in the commanding position of being on top.

"Shit's on Guido!  Shiiit is ONNNNNNN!!"

If you’re on the ground with your average drunk brawler, assuming you know some BJJ, you will own his soul and will get a submission easily. Non-grapplers do nothing on the ground except try to hit some panic punches which is exactly what the Goombah did. Then Mule began to crank that shit, using all his brawling skills.
Mule’s golden rules:
 A.) It's the other guy's fault for fucking with you, and
 B.) You need to neutralize the threat!   Best to put him to sleep and start soccer kicking his face.
 In most cases if it goes to the ground and you’re trained you’re going to be able to do whatever the hell you want to the guy unless he gets a lucky shot in.

Mule left the impact of his knuckles on Guido's face.
"This is going to hurt YOU, a lot more than it is going to hurt ME,  'Roider!"- Mule said through clinched teeth.

As the tiring Guido flailed ineffectually with his fists, Mule met him there and distributed the most gruesome punches in the face the  'roider had ever received.  Mule left the impact of his knuckles on all about the downed Italian’s face, following it up by putting his sledgehammer stamp on his pecs and abs.  He was unconscious at this point, but Mule wasn’t done with him, so he dragged Guido’s ass into the stall, and dunked his head in the toilet to revive him.
Mule got to thinking about how much delight he felt when he gets the upper-hand on his opponent.

"Now I have to admit that I enjoy brawling with guys of all shapes and sizes, but there is just a special feeling when you get the advantage over a guy who is your equal or close to it--and if it is a douchie Guido greaseball dirtbag-all the better." Mule thought.

The Goombah was sputtering in the toilet water, clearing coming to. Mule grabs his right wrist and pulls him back up to his weary feet, hold his arm back to behind his neck and hold it there with his left hand.  The blond warrior pulls on his chin to open his mouth and humiliates him by spitting in his mouth.

Fuckin’ loser, that’s nothing, the worst is about to come!!!!!”   Mule then employs one of his signature closure routines.  Mule used his tongue to mark a wet X on Guido's chest, right over his heart, then takes his right knuckle and gently grind it into where Guido’s heart is.

“Fuckin’ loser, that’s nothing, the worst is about to come!!!!!” 

Lights out dude” Mule bellows as he quickly give Guido three quick jabs with his fist over his heart then POUNDS him with a powerful fourth.   At the same time as the fourth pound Mule releases his hold on the juice-junkie  and watches the Guido fly out through the doorway of the stall and back on to the center tiles with a sickening thud, knocked out, convulsing from Mule’s classic master heart punch!!!!!

Mule paces around him, looking over the devastation. The Goombah is finished now, the dude is out, and there is no fuckin' way in hell he will get up from that.

The Goombah is finished now, the dude is out...

As Mule takes his victory laps around his fallen opponent he feels his mojo has returned, as if he sapped the strength and virility of his fallen foe bringing a restored luster to his own.

Mule gave an impromptu soliloquy to the unconscious Goombah as he strutted around him.

That felt so GREAT.  I enjoy a fight so much more when I have a quality opponent  ... it’s the challenge it represents. It is the athlete in me, once a jock, always a jock, I like to be challenged. I like to be pushed to my limits and come out on top. I like to have guys take the fight to me, and step away from the knowing I have beaten a worthy opponent.

Mule cracked his neck, and stepped out of the bathroom with a new swagger to his step.

[If you liked this part of the story, check out the story: Swirlie: Revenge of the Nerd  For more art inspired by the Posedown and Fight sequence see Posedown Fight  More Fight  Swirlie and Mule Triumphant pics. ] 


Mule walked out of the restroom, just as Jamal pocketing the phone number of the young jock from the treadmill, was heading for it.  The blond hunk clearly looked like he had just been in YET ANOTHER fight, and when he caught Jamal’s curious look, Mule hooked a thumb over his broad muscular shoulders and said: “You should see the other guy!”  Mule had clearly recovered his mojo and despite his lumps and bruises was clearly every inch the Alpha once more.  Jamal felt his fuckpole swell in silent salute to the restored grandeur as he watched the Mule walk away: looking as good going as he did coming.

"Well, well, well...
What do we have here?  A fallen Guido!"

Jamal turned his attention back to the men’s room.   Jamal entered the bathroom and saw the Italian stallion he had noticed earlier in the gym lying splayed naked on the tiles looking  like he had been run over by a freight train.  He drained his hose in the urinal. Then he looked over at the wreckage of a man, Mule had left in his wake.   "Well, well, well...What do we have here?  A fallen Guido!"--Jamal said as he studied the fallen stud.  Where others might just see the wreckage of a man, Jamal saw an opportunity and seized on it.  

Where others might just see the wreckage of a man,
 Jamal saw an opportunity...

 After he washed his hands, he took the towel from around his neck, Jamal soaked it with water and wringing it out over the head of the Guido, used it to splash water on the fallen muscleman bringing him back to consciousness.

What…huh?” The Guido sputtered.

Damn man, what the hell happened to you?” -- Jamal deceptively inquired, a look of feigned concern on his handsome face. “You look like you got the incredible hulk mad at you!

M-m-mMule” was all the still punch drunk Guido was able to stammer.

Oh Mule?  So I guess I WAS right about you feeling the wrath of the Incredible Hulk!  Let me help you up!” 

Jamal lifted him up to a standing position, but the Guido’s legs were rubbery.  With one muscular arm slung around the Italian’s neck and shoulder, he tied the damp towel around him and then tried to help the Guido walk out of the bathroom, but the olive-hued muscleman’s legs kept buckling from underneath him, so he his feet were dragging.  “This ain’t working!” noted Jamal, and he went ahead and slung the Guido over his shoulder, stopping for his bag, and then proceeding out through the gym to the parking lot with the slack bag-o-muscles, dressed only in a towel,  slung over him like a sack, as the other patrons gawked and gasped.

As Jamal carried him to his car he told Tony/Joey/Vinnie/Nick or whatever the hell the Guido was actually called: “Let’s get you home!” and laid him out on the back seat of his Cadillac.  What he didn’t say to this entree of succulent white meat was that the home the ebony Adonis was referring to was JAMAL’S.  Tony/Joey/Vinnie/Nick snoozed the whole trip, and Jamal carried the “take out” from the gym into his condo, all the way to the bedroom, and laid him out on the bed.

He then went and prepared his special concoction of various herbs and other ingredients that worked as a soothing salve for such a physical pummeling as Guido had suffered.  When he returned to the bedroom, Guido was sitting up on the edge of the bed looking groggy and confused.  Jamal explained the situation and the purpose of the salve.  “Let me get comfortable first, as this is going to take a while!” he explained to the still dumbfounded Italian as he stripped down to his skivvies.  “Let’s have you lose the towel too, as we need to tend to ALL of your injuries.

Jamal began applying the sweet smelling salve to the broad impressive pecs of the wounded muscleman.  The beaten man winced and tensed, not only from the sensitivities but from having another man touch him like that. “No homo” said Jamal with a reassuring smile.  “That’s good!  Because I ain’t no fucking faggot!  I hate faggots!

Of course you do buttercup!” thought Jamal but out loud he said “Just bros here, just bros.” While he sensually worked in the salve into the bulging muscles of the Guido, whose name he learned was Tony (but of course!). Jamal worked muscle group by muscle group, he could tell that the big Tony was beginning to enjoy his ministrations.  He then moved to the man’s cock and balls, offering a “No homo” as a convenient cover to the Guido Tony’s masculine pride. Ridiculous as the line was at this point, the hapless Tony clung to it like a lifebuoy.  “No homo” the Guido chanted repeatedly as a mantra as the Jamal’s handjob worked him into a state of blissful arousal.

No homo” echoed the smiling Jamal as he pushed Tony down on the bed straddling him. Increasing the intensity of his manipulation of the man’s penis.  He bent over and licked Guido’s neck and face, as the enraptured Italian’s eyes were shut in the slits of ecstasy.  He whispered “No homo” in the excited man’s ear, his breath tickling the hairs of his ear, only intensifying the arousal of the prone muscleman.  Jamal hopped forward simultaneously spinning around to face the other direction and pressed his big black cock to the lips of the man underneath him, lips the readily parted, all pretense now cast aside.  The pair then engaged in a warm up period of 69ing in preparation for the fuckfest that was to come. 

While Jamal genuinely bottomed for strong alpha males, he was versatile and liked to flip the situation even with males who were normally dominant in the relationship.  Unlike with other alpha males, he didn't have to work hard to get the top position with Guido Tony.  The Italian was such easy pickings that Jamal effortlessly assumed the top position. Jamal informed Tony: "I am going to show you sensations, pleasures and delights , like you have never experienced or even imagined ... it will hurt a bit, but as we say in the gym, NO PAIN-NO GAIN!"

 To spice things up, Jamal brought out his "special cufflinks", a set of bondage manacles and shackles that he always kept in his gym bag which was also his all-around 'go bag.'  Although many of his conquests came at the gym, with Jamal opportunity knocked just about anywhere.

When he was spent, he gave his new partner and opportunity to know his own ass, and the Guido Tony said “I can’t believe I have become a fucking homo, I hate fucking homos.

"I am going to show you sensations, pleasures and delights, like you have never experienced or even imagined..."

Suck it up cupcake” returned Jamal wiggling his muscular glutes invitingly before the protesting muscleman, who in the end gave up on his self-chastisement and enthusiastically moved in on Jamal’s gorgeous black ass.

After Tony was finally spent and snoring, Jamal lay on his back smoking a cigarette.  He thought of Mule and how Guido Tony’s efforts had fallen so short of the standard set by Mule.  “I guess not all hot, white musclemen are created equally!” he mused, as he played back his last tryst with the Mule as a movie in his mind